16/01/2025 : Added a chapter for the unopened wills arc.
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Harry felt the effects of the body-bind curse disappear as he found himself back inside the chamber of secrets damp atmosphere.
'You should be safe enough down here, child. I need some time for myself now, but fret not, I'll be there for you tomorrow,' Fawkes told Harry through their bond, as he nudged the boy's head with his soft wings.
Harry didn't get to reply as the majestic creature took flight and disappeared with a mournful trill.
'Sigh. I suppose that breaking such a long bond, even with Dumbledore, must be painful.'
With that thought, Harry got up and moved towards Salazar's stone mouth.
"Open," he hissed at it, prompting it to move as commanded.
That was a nice little ability that Salazar had granted him by keying him to the room's wards.
Apparently, Voldemort never bothered to go inside the chamber as Salazar didn't know him.
Previously, it was the basilisk that opened the door when called. Since it was now dead, Harry was now the only one able to access the room.
"Hello, Harry. How did the meeting with Dumbledore go? Did you win his phoenix over?" the elder man fired.
Before Harry could reply, Asmodeus made his presence known.
"SSo I have a big brother now huh?" he hissed, getting two puzzled looks. "I can sssense the new bond you ssshare with the chicken," he answered the unasked question.
"That is excellent news! Surviving the task shouldn't be a problem for you now."
The old man seemed pretty excited with the news if his smile was anything to go by.
"Now you only have to do the ritual and it'll be a walk in the park," he said, frowning as Harry's expression darkened.
"The ritual isn't enough anymore, Sal," he uttered slowly, causing the man's eyebrows to scrunch in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Harry proceeded to give the man a quick rundown of his encounter with the old fogey. Needless to say by the time he finished, Salazar was most displeased.
"I'm afraid that even in my time, prophecies were as much as an obscure subject as they are now. I don't think you should take it to heart, but also not downright dismiss it," he commented as his facial features tensed.
"Doesn't he know what'sss too much, that fucking back-sstabbing bastard? He'sss gone round the bend…"
Harry couldn't have agreed any more and wanted to add some creative insults of his own, but he couldn't lose his temper, not now. Time was of the essence.
"Sigh. You designed the ritual with only my survival in mind, right? Dumbledore, as you know, tried to alter my memories. He would have no doubt searched my mind for any answers he might have wanted, finding out about you and our plans. If we would have been caught so soon, it would have been really bad. Do you realise what that means? He wants, no he needs, to have control over me. He won't leave me alone unless he believes that I'm firmly thinking about his interests, and I doubt I'll be able to convince him of that with mere words. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"
"Yes, my heir. Your name getting out of the goblet was definitely someone's plan. Whether Dumbledore or Voldemort decided to put you in the tournament for whatever nefarious reason, it doesn't matter. The two strongest wizards of your time, have interests that concern you. One wants to control you, and the other continuously tries to kill you. Lastly, much sooner rather than later, you'll have to face one, if not both, of them in combat," Salazar said tiredly.
"Exactly and that's why survival isn't enough anymore. I need you to create another ritual for me, this time, with the most potential and destruction in mind," Harry said calmly, sending the man in deep thought.
'Are you going to be okay?' came Ash's concern in his thoughts.
He gave the snake an appreciative nod, his attention snapping to the elder man as he started talking.
"Enough potential and destruction to stand against magical powerhouses in the foreseeable future… We'll need a more powerful sacrifice, much more powerful. Hmmm… What else is there that we could use? Lifespan? While it could indeed offer much, it would require many years of his life. Fertility is definitely a no-no. I doubt that Harry will willingly sacrifice another human… A magical creature then? It'll need to be strong, very strong. Would Asmodeus do? No, he wouldn't be a good enough option, not for the likes of Voldemort and Dumbledore," the Slytherin mumbled out loud, going over any and all ideas that popped into his head.
"Wait, why wouldn't a thousand-year-old basilisk be a good option? He sounds like a fan-fucking-tastic option in my opinion," Harry cut Salazar's monologue.
"Oh, I was thinking out loud again, huh? Well, you slew him two years ago and have done nothing to prevent his magic from leaking out. Not only that, but as far as you've told me, you've not issued a right-to-conquest challenge before slaying him, thus you've not gained a right over his magic," informed the older man, giving Harry an idea.
"What if I had another powerful magical creature that I had slain after issuing the right of conquest challenge you've mentioned?"
"I can't see what creature are you thinking about," he said, looking Harry in the eye. "Don't tell me you are talking about Fawkes. I'm afraid he doesn't exactly fit the destruction criteria you've put as a phoenix and all. Not only that, how will you even go about killing the phoenix?"
"Are you insane? I'm not talking about Fawkes. I'm talking about a dragon," Harry cried, glaring at the man.
'Is he cruel enough to think of killing a phoenix? He did mention something about human sacrifices…'
Harry didn't continue that thought. He knew Salazar didn't have the same morals as him, and it wasn't the time to argue.
"You are not serious, are you? Have you finally gone mad? Until now, we were making plans for you simply survivingthe first task, and now you wish to slay a dragon?" inquired Salazar, in mild disbelief.
'Gryffindor,' he concluded with a single word.
"Can you humour me at least?" Harry asked, annoyed at the older man's show of trust in his skill.
"Sigh. Fine. I suppose the Hungarian Horntail will be a passable magical creature to use for the ritual. Its carcass together with the previously determined sacrifices, should do the job, albeit I'm not sure how well it would go along with Asmodeus' venom," he calculated, not noticing Harry's change of expression at the dragon's mention.
"Who said anything about the horntail?" he asked with a smile creeping on his lips.
"The Abyssal Reaver?" realised Salazar, speaking very slowly and with a clear incredulity.
'He's gone mental. All those occlumency lessons and these are the results? There's definitely something wrong with his head if he is still unable to think straight.'
While Salazar was trying to understand what was wrong with his heir, the said boy was looking at him impatiently.
"Earth to Sal? Are you there? What do you think, can you make the ritual?"
The elder man looked at the lad in front of him.
"Of course I can, I'm not sure if I should do so, though."
'I'm not sure if I should do so, huh?'
A pillar of annoyance was quickly building inside Harry before he crushed it.
"I know you don't think I can kill it, you don't have to worry though!" Harry said with mock cheerfulness.
"Just make a ritual and leave the rest to me," he said emotionlessly before turning and heading towards the bedroom.
Even though the day was still in its beginning phase, he felt extremely tired.
Harry became pallid with rage as his thoughts went back to his meeting with the headmaster.
'He has taken everything away from me and wishes to take more,' he thought, clenching his hands so hard that they almost leaked blood.
He stared down at the bathtub in front of him.
Were he to look at his face at the moment, he'd have been amazed that his eyes' pupils were like emerald disks of fire.
'Damn that lemon-flavoured brain of yours Dumbledore,' he cursed as he reached down and turned the tap on.
Salazar stood in his portrait speechless for some time before finally breaking out of his stupor, no thanks to himself.
"SStop ssstanding there and gawking old man," hissed Asmodeus.
"Did you underssstand what that human of yourss decided to do?" fired back the monkey-ish man.
"Yesss, and I can't say that I'm any more pleased than you are. However, if there'sss any that can constantly pull miracles out of his asssss, it'ss him," Asmodeus said sagely.
By the time Harry had made his way back to the humongous room, Salazar had already started working.
Harry's whole body was shining from the shower afterglow.
"Have you started working on the ritual then?" he asked, prompting the map to look up from the books under his portrait.
Harry was wearing some simple black shorts, forgoing a shirt, and had a white towel around his neck. It was left there after a half-hearted attempt at drying the bird nest he called hair.
"Yes," he simply answered, rolling his eyes while also not bothering to hide his annoyance at Harry's excellent plan.
"Sigh. If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears," Harry shot, not expecting the man to talk.
Salazar didn't disappoint as he let out a simple huff and continued to float the books around him.
"I never did come around to asking but considering I might not have another chance to do so, how the hell do you use magic? Aren't you a regular good ol' portrait?" Harry asked curiously.
He was pretty sure he knew the answer to his question since he knew of something that made Salazar different from a normal magical portrait.
"Finally thought to ask eh? If you simply used your mind, you might have found out… Remember how I mentioned that I tied my portrait to Asmodeus instead of a magical object such as Hogwarts? I didn't do that out of some sort of sentimentality, I'm not stupid, or I wasn't stupid to be exact. All you have to know is that the bond between a portrait and a magical creature isn't the same as the one with a magical object. We've not gone far into your enchantment studies, something I sincerely hope you'll change, so I will spare you the details."
'I was right then, good to know,' Harry mused.
"You didn't have to be a dick though, you know?" he said.
"Believe me, I'm not treating you any less than what you deserve," muttered Salazar wisely.
"Sure, if you think so… Do you want any help with the books? Won't using magic to levitate stuff around, make you go poof sooner?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Fret not, Harry. My portrait's magic doesn't work as one might expect, so no, I won't go poof any sooner than I'm supposed to," he drawled, throwing a quick glare at Harry before focusing back on his work.
"In a week's time then, right?"
Any previous emotion had disappeared from Harry's face, as it now sported his quickly becoming, signature, ice mask.
"That's quite good control of your emotions," Salazar commented without looking away from a parchment that had a familiar dragon's sketch drawn on it.
"You didn't even glance at me."
"No, but I heard you. Your voice was as steady as a calm lake, it didn't quiver even once, and to answer your question, yes I would have been gone by the next weekend," he simply stated, as if unbothered by his nearing demise.
"What do you mean 'would have been'? Has something changed?" Harry wondered hopefully.
"Yes, you have yourself to thank for that… I don't plan on outliving you, that's why I'll perform a minor ritual on myself tomorrow, giving you one more contingency. I'll go poof tomorrow," he stated humorlessly.
'Damn, I feel like a spoilt and ungrateful brat now…'
[BREAK]
Harry woke up with a start.
'Today's the day then, huh?'
In a few hours, he would be fighting to the death against the terrifying dragon he had seen two days prior…
He swiftly made his way off the bed and into the bathroom to take care of his morning rituals.
As he was brushing his teeth, Ash sneaked into the room and made his way onto his arm.
"Morning," he hissed.
'Good morning,' Harry said back through their bond.
Who would have guessed that the ability to talk through a bond would be a damn lifesaver while brushing one's teeth…
"How are you feeling? Are you getting cold feet yet?"
Ash, like Salazar, didn't appear to be a fan of Harry's plan.
'I'm feeling excellent, in case you can't tell. Also, since you'll come with me, we can talk about who has cold feet later, or scales in your case,' he barbed back without missing a beat.
When Harry had finally made his way to Salazar's not-so-small chamber, Ash was coiled around his neck.
He didn't seem too pleased…
"Morning, Sal. Is everything ready and what the hell, are you okay?" he asked, concern creeping into his tone.
Salazar Slytherin's portrait self was looking extremely tired.
'Can portraits even get tired or is it another display of Sal's distinctiveness?' he mused. 'Probably the latter.'
His once lively eyes seemed like they were barely being kept open and he also sported dark circles under them.
"My well-being won't matter for long now… Everything's good to go. The ritual, together with all its instructions, is on the main table. Let's say that if your brainwave succeeds, the results of the ritual would boggle your mind… There's only one thing left and that's for me to perform the ritual I mentioned yesterday," Salazar said and despite his appearance and condition, he managed to sound excited while talking about the new ritual he devised.
'An abyssal reaver, slain and claimed by magic, true phoenix tears, a thousand-year-old basilisk's venom and a Dark Lord's soul piece. Harry's also a Peverell... I wonder if there was ever a ritual designed with a bigger potential than this one. How I wish I was able to see the result of this whole ordeal and Harry's happily ever after. I'm sure the lad will survive, he's of my blood after all, and shine brighter than any before him…'
"What's your ritual going to do?" Harry asked curiously. The older man had stubbornly kept shut about it.
"It'll briefly gift you my ability of the Dragon tongue, long enough to cast a spell or maybe even two, depending on your choices. If the situation goes bad, it'll surely be enough to catch the dragon off guard and maybe even cause a serious blow."
Harry stilled.
He had read about the legendary tongue of the dragons in Salazar's books, where he mentioned that just like parseltongue, the dragon tongue was a magical language. However, despite Salazar's numerous attempts, he never managed to make it a genetic trait as his other infamous ability.
Harry's thoughts, allowed by his skill in occlumency, went back to the first time he found a mention of the feared language.
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'The dragon tongue, like parseltongue, is intrinsic to a speaker's very being. That is not where their familiarities end though as any child of mine who is able to converse with snakes will also be able to converse with dragons. Do not be foolish to think that the mentioned child will be speaking the tongue of the dragons, no! While the two languages may share the same dialect, they couldn't have been any different. Their difference lies in their very essence as the two magicallanguages, simply work based on different natures of magic. It is also needless to mention which one is the most powerful as dragons are generally much higher in the magical scale than snakes, thus making their tongue so much more potent.'
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Harry had learnt Salazar's books on dragon tongue by heart as they were that cool.
'I'll get a chance to finally cast the dragon spells I've been reading about!' he realised.
His previous attempts at casting the aforementioned spells were dull failures.
While he could pronounce the dragon spell chants correctly, just as Salazar had said, nothing would happen. There wouldn't even be any sparks.
He was moving towards Salazar's portrait to kiss him, again…
"Stop. I don't want any more kisses," the man threatened, and in the face of danger, his energy seemed to come back, making Harry stop in his tracks.
Harry, in a previous show of excitement, had smooched the elder man's portrait. Needless to say, Salazar wasn't impressed with the action and Harry had once again found himself in very close contact with a chair.
"Did you get the calamitas solution?" Salazar inquired.
Harry nodded as he reached into his pocket and took out a vial that stored a grey and somewhat transparent liquid inside it.
"Shall we start this then?" asked the Hogwarts founder.
Harry, once again nodded and moved onto the newly drawn circle in front of the portrait.
"I've got to say that I was surprised that you agreed to follow my plan. I thought that you'd try to make me follow a safer route," Harry said, keeping control of his emotions.
Those were the last moments he had with the man.
What was he supposed to say?
"Well, that was my initial reaction. I was going to try and do just that but then I remembered something. Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far can they go," he simply stated with a smile before starting to chant in a long-since-forgotten language.
Harry simply stared at the man as he went on with the ritual, sacrificing what little time he had left for a kid he didn't even know a month ago.
After a few minutes, the previously erratic magic started settling down together with Salazar's quietening chants.
"It is done. It was my utmost pleasure getting to know you, Harry. You've grown into a fine young man in our short time together. If you will do foolish things, remember to do them with enthusiasm!" he remarked with a sad smile.
A tear escaped Salazar's left eye and as it slowly moved down, it eventually froze.
"Sal?"
The elder man didn't answer.
He couldn't answer.
'He's a simple, mundane portrait now.'
Harry's tight control of his emotions waned as the situation dawned on him.
'I'm alone again,' he thought as tears fell from his eyes.
"Don't be ssstupid, you have me!" came a hiss from behind him.
Ash, who had left Harry's body during the ritual to not cause any mishaps, quickly slithered on his bonder, trying to provide whatever comfort he could.
'Ignore that barely overgrown lizard. You have me,' came another voice. Its tone was kind, devoid of any maliciousness, and old.
Fawkes appeared with a flash and flew right on Harry's head before letting out a mournful trill.
[BREAK] (Added on 16/01/25 for the new 'unopened wills' plot arc)
Fawkes's trill rang in Harry's ears a mere second before the world faded into brilliant gold light.
He stumbled, blinking away the sudden brightness, and when his vision cleared, he found himself standing on the bustling white steps of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.
The stately, towering marble columns rose on either side of its massive doors, and the streets of Diagon Alley were just beyond the wide flight of stairs.
"Bloody hell," Harry mumbled under his breath, not used to the fiery transitions that came whenever Fawkes flashed around.
Speaking of the fiery avian, it was currently perched regally on Harry's shoulder, the phoenix's feathers gleaming under the morning sun.
Pushing down his exasperation, Harry paused to recall Gornuk's letter, his "family bank manager," and the startling revelations about his parents' wills.
If it weren't for the Tri-Wizard Tournament and its blasted timing, he'd have come here much sooner.
He started up the steps, ignoring the quizzical looks from several witches and wizards who wondered what a teenage boy—with a phoenix—was doing sauntering into Gringotts so confidently.
In truth, Harry felt anything but confident and his stomach churned with unresolved anger and bitter questions.
'Dumbledore suppressed my parents' wills? And the Dursleys… could I really have lived with someone else all those years?'
He shook off the swirling thoughts as he approached the burnished bronze doors.
Fawkes emitted a soft, consoling trill, causing Harry to relax slightly.
The scene before him matched exactly the one he'd seen just before starting his first year at Hogwarts.
Gringotts's grand entrance hall loomed before Harry, filled with the echo of tapping quills and the clatter of scales.
Goblins scurried behind raised counters, weighing coins or stamping ledgers.
Spotting an official-looking goblin stationed at a tall podium, Harry stepped forward.
"I'm here to see Gornuk," he announced, his voice subdued yet firm.
The goblin eyed Fawkes with a passing flicker of interest before jerking its pointed chin down a corridor.
"Vault Manager Gornuk's office—third door on the left."
Harry obliged, passing under chandeliers of glittering crystal and past tall, severe-faced goblins who eyed him warily.
He finally reached the office marked with a small bronze plaque reading Gornuk—Potter Estate.
He rapped on the door with three sharp knocks.
"Come in," a raspy voice commanded from within.
Stepping inside, Harry found a dim, neat office with tall shelves stuffed with ledgers, ancient tomes, and scrolls.
A squat goblin with narrow, calculating eyes sat at a mahogany desk.
He peered at Harry over a pair of spectacles.
"Mr. Potter," Gornuk greeted, inclining his head. "I see you received my letter."
"I did," Harry said and nodded curtly. "I—uh—wanted to discuss my parents' wills."
Fawkes let out a low coo, drawing Gornuk's curious stare which quickly shifted back to business.
"So you finally come to hear the reading."
He pulled open a drawer and extracted two sealed envelopes adorned with the Potter crest.
"We at Gringotts have long awaited your decision to have these wills properly opened. However, certain… complications arose."
"Because of Dumbledore," Harry interrupted, trying to keep his temper in check.
"He was the person everyone looked up to during the last war and that allowed him to do whatever he wanted unquestioned—like bury my parents' wills for all these years."
Gornuk inclined his head in agreement.
"Indeed. His instructions prevented us from processing them. But with your… emancipation through the Tri-Wizard Tournament, you now hold the right to open them if you so desire."
Harry clenched his fists by his sides.
'What if the Goblet hadn't spat out my name? How long would I have stayed in the dark about all this?'
"Right," Harry muttered, eyeing the seals on both envelopes.
The restlessness in his chest flared.
"Let's do it."
Gornuk carefully slid each envelope across the desk.
As soon as Harry touched them, both came unsealed with a subtle pulse of magic.
Fawkes gave a soft, encouraging trill, and Harry inhaled shakily…
Taking one in his hands, he found it was his mother's.
Her handwriting was neat and slender, the lines full of love and sadness.
'Grow strong and kind, my little Harry… we love you so much.'
A lump formed in Harry's throat as he skimmed through the letter again.
She named Sirius Black as his intended guardian if anything should befall her and James—except that clearly never happened.
Dumbledore saw to that, Harry thought bitterly.
He pictured how different life might have been if he had grown up under Sirius's care, away from the Dursleys' constant abuse and disdain.
Then came James Potter's will, similarly heartfelt, with a few comedic jabs about not letting "Moony" and "Padfoot" spoil Harry rotten.
'If only he knew…'
Harry exhaled unsteadily, pressing the edges of the documents down to keep his hands from shaking.
Gornuk gazed at Harry, unblinking.
"It is as you see. Albus Dumbledore's decision took precedence over these documents, at least in the eyes of the Ministry and the magical society at that time. We goblins… do not interfere in wizarding politics unless it affects the handling of vaults."
Harry tightened his jaw.
"So, I spent ten years locked in a cupboard, starved, screamed at…"
A swirl of emotions—anger, regret, sorrow—nearly choked him.
'The Dursleys never wanted me, and my parents planned for me never to be with them. This was never supposed to happen.'
He set the parchment aside. "So, what changes now?"
Gornuk cleared his throat.
"According to goblin law, even though you are emancipated under wizard rules due to your status as a Tri-Wizard Champion, you cannot fully access the Potter family vaults until you reach your seventeenth birthday."
"What?" Harry shot upright, outrage flaring in his eyes. "But I'm legally an adult in wizarding terms—your letter even said so!"
Gornuk regarded Harry with a carefully measured look. "Emancipation may remove the restrictions from the Ministry's perspective, but Gringotts adheres to the goblin code. Certain hereditary vaults cannot be touched until the depositor comes of age by both wizard and goblin standards. The Potter main vault is one such vault."
Harry's frustration spiked.
He had come expecting to finally claim something of his parents' legacy.
But now, after all these years, another bureaucratic barrier reared its ugly head.
"So," he said through gritted teeth, "I can't do anything with the main vault. Nothing at all?"
Gornuk shook his head. "I'm afraid not. You have the trust vault at your disposal, as you have since you started at Hogwarts. That will suffice for day-to-day or even more considerable expenses. But the full estate—properties and heirlooms—remains locked until your seventeenth birthday. And no influence from humans or wizards can override goblin law in this matter."
Harry closed his eyes, trying not to let anger consume him.
Slowly, he inhaled, counting to five.
Fawkes's gentle weight on his shoulder felt like an anchor.
"Fine," he managed, voice tight. "I understand."
The goblin nodded, as though ticking a box in his mind. "I expected you might be displeased. But it is not the first time a young heir has had to wait, nor will it be the last."
He pushed a thick ledger forward. "If you wish, you may sign here to officially confirm you've opened and read the wills. They'll be filed into the Potter estate records. That's all we can do at present."
Harry dipped a quill into a pot of ink and stopped.
"Wait," Harry said, his voice steady. "The wills mentioned properties. Even if I can't access them yet, could you at least tell me what they are? What will I inherit when I turn seventeen?"
Gornuk flashed him a smirk and adjusted his spectacles, rifling through the ledger. "The Potter estate includes the ancestral manor in Godric's Hollow—though it requires extensive restoration—a summer cottage in Wales, and a townhouse here, in the Diagon Alley. There are also several parcels of land throughout Britain, though their exact locations will need to be verified when you come of age."
Harry absorbed the information, letting it sink in slowly.
Properties.
Real homes that had belonged to his family.
Places where his parents might have walked and lived…
The thought of the manor in Godric's Hollow brought a pang of nostalgia and sorrow, but he suppressed it.
He glanced at Gornuk, who was now meticulously noting the details of their conversation in a thick ledger.
'If Dumbledore learns that I've officially read my parents' wills, it could lead to unwanted complications. I don't need him monitoring my every move,' Harry thought, his unease growing.
"Mr. Gornuk. I'd rather not sign it right now," Harry decided, his voice firm. "It could affect my standing with Dumbledore."
Gornuk raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this response. "Are you refusing to sign, Mr. Potter?"
Harry met the goblin's gaze. "Yes. Who knows what else can the headmaster do?"
The goblin smiled sadly at that response. "Very well. You may choose not to sign at this time. Should you decide to formalise the reading, the records will be updated accordingly."
Harry nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension.
"Thank you, Gornuk," he said, managing a tight smile. "For everything."
With that, Harry made his way out of Gringotts.
[BREAK]
Harry followed the student body as they made their way to the arena.
Needless to say, he was under his father's invisibility cloak.
'We can't be seen by Dumbledore before we reach the tent. Who knows what the deranged man would do if given a chance?' he mused, still angry about the headmaster's unexpected attack.
'I don't like him,' Ash simply stated his opinion from his arm.
Harry peered at the moving students, trying and failing to discern Hermione.
'Whatever, it's not like I would have been able to talk with her without garnering attention. I'm sure she'll be at the stands,' he thought.
As both Hogwarts and foreign students reached the gladiator-like arena, Harry branched off towards the nearby tent.
Thanks to his newly acquired magical sense, he could feel Dumbledore's oppressing aura coming off from that direction.
'I hope that the other champions are there,' he thought as he neared the tent, still invisible.
"What the fuck," Harry let out as he noticed Hermione walking around the tent.
He immediately changed course and moved towards her.
"Don't mind if I do!" he exclaimed, positioning himself in her way.
Bump.
'What the hell just happened,' Hermione thought as she quickly started falling towards the ground.
She had just bumped into something invisible…
Suddenly, a familiar hand materialised out of thin air and grabbed her, saving her from a poor fate.
"Hello there, miss stalker," came Harry's mischievous voice as he took off his cloak and put it inside a small pouch on his waist.
The pouch didn't show any signs of getting full…
Hermione, who Harry was still holding, glared at her friend's smiling visage.
She had so many things she wanted to tell and ask him about.
She wanted to reprimand him for both skipping school and talking as he had to Professor Snape, albeit she wouldn't have meant the latter.
'Now's not the time for me. The idiot's already late as it is,' she quickly thought as she got on her feet.
"God knows I have a billion things to tell you, but the task is about to start and they are searching for you," she said, pointing to the tent.
"Yes, I'm well, thanks for asking! I've missed you too, Hermione," he said, earning a not-so-friendly punch to the arm.
"I'll see you later then."
Harry smiled at his friend before making his way into the tent, an icy mask forming over his face.
"Accio calamitas solution," he said as he pointed his holy wand inside his pouch.
'Gotta love those expanding charms.'
He grabbed the greyish potion that came out of the pouch's depths and uncorked it, taking a very small sip.
'This should last for about ten minutes,' he thought.
"Harry!" came a shout, prompting him to store the potion quickly.
'That's Bagman, right?' he mused as the shabby-looking man walked towards him.
'I couldn't know,' Ash said through their bond.
"You're finally here! We all started worrying that you wouldn't show up," he cried.
"I'm here now, so let's get this on," Harry stated.
"Definitely! Come with me," said the man, seemingly unbothered by Harry's attitude.
Harry followed the blond man deep inside the tent, passing by many dragon handlers and ministry employees.
'It's lively huh,' he threw to Ash.
'Of course, no one wants to lose their chance of seeing you becoming pork after all… I wonder how long it will take them to notice me,' he replied; he was still curled around Harry's arm.
'That's the only thing these robes are good for,' Harry thought back.
During the duo's friendly barb exchange, they reached their destination.
Harry, noticing that the man in front of him stopped walking, looked around him.
Victor Krum was inside a very small room with a bed, putting on a red robe and sporting his usual stoic expression.
His school's champion, Cedric Diggory, was standing still in the middle of the room while fumbling with his wand.
Lastly, the French beauty, Fleur Delacour, was sitting on a chair and showed no signs of anxiety on her beautiful face.
He had just managed to catch an attractive blonde woman leaving the room.
"I found him. I found Harry Potter!" exclaimed the man in front of him, garnering the attention of everyone in the room, the three champions, and the just departed woman.
That was unlucky…
The seventh years, broken out of their respective thoughts, glanced at the new presence.
Cedric was the first one to confirm Harry's identity and gave him a weak wave before going back to fumbling with his wand.
Krum, on the other hand, didn't seem to care about the appearance of the fourth champion.
'One's too anxious to give a fuck and the other underestimates the poor little fourth year.'
Harry's eyes landed on the last champion, not surprised at the calculative gaze she was sending him.
"Hey," he said, performing an infinitely better greeting than last time.
"'ello, little boy. 'ave you finally grown some backbone and decided to talk wiz me?" she teased him.
'Funny. Is she still mad about my little stalking?' he conjectured, unbothered by the breathtakingly beautiful witch's words.
"I was quite busy in our last encounter and I didn't have any time to catch up," he said, walking closer to her and fully ignoring the man who he assumed to be Bagman.
"Busy running away?" she asked, clearly not impressed with his reason.
"Busy catching up with my friend. She left me behind and was heading towards the castle," Harry said casually, noticing the slight scrunch of Fleur's eyebrows.
'What's up with that?' he wondered.
"You were busy chasing anozer witch?" she asked befuddled.
"Yes."
ROAR.
"It seems they pulled out the first dragon," Harry mumbled.
"You knew?" came the girl's surprised inquiry.
"Did you?" he fired back confused.
'Did she also sneak to the camp like me?' he mused.
"Good day champions, gather around, please. Now, you've waited, you've wondered and at last, the moment has arrived," Dumbledore said as he moved inside the room, losing some of his excitement as his eyes landed on Fleur and Harry.
'That's right you old fuck. I'm here,' he thought, putting all of his focus on managing his anger.
Fleur wasn't pleased with his sudden change of Harry's attention…
"Champions, please form a circle around me," barked Barty Crouch while grabbing every champion and shoving them into a circle.
That's what he tried to do at least.
While Cedric didn't seem to mind and Krum didn't offer any resistance except a deep scowl, Fleur slapped his hand away and moved by herself.
'I won't let any man touch me.'
Sadly, Crouch didn't try and pull Harry as well after the previous reaction, or else he might have been bitten.
"Youngsters first," the man said as he opened the purple pouch he was holding in front of Harry.
'Come on,' he thought as he slowly reached inside the pouch and grabbed a piece of paper before pulling it out.
4th, Abyssal Reaver.
That's what his card wrote.
'There it is, the power of liquid misfortune... Thankfully, it's not very potent so I'll probably live until the effect passes.'
Crouch threw him a pitying look before moving to the next champion.
"Mister Krum," he said, performing the same gesture three more times.
After the somewhat fixed draws, Harry moved towards a couch to wait until his turn came up.
'Cedric's going first against the Chinese fireball, Krum is going right after against the Hungarian Horntail, and lastly, Fleur will have to battle the Ukrainian Ironbelly. While it's more rotund and slower in flight than other dragons, it's also much bigger and its dragon fire is no joke,' he thought.
Nothing needed to be said about the Abyssal Reaver. It was simply a nightmare.
Fleur, seemingly unhappy about their talk's interruption, moved to sit on the couch in front of Harry.
No one noticed the small beetle walking around…
None except Asmodeus at least.