Chapter 14: Rita Skeeter
The next day Harry went down to the common room, his robes loose. He looked around, drinking a cup of tea courtesy of the house elves. He had found several books there, and from them had been able to piece together the history of the room.
Apparently the Chamber was a safe house for if Hogwarts ever went under siege. There was a dining area there, housing, a small room, and the Chamber, which was also the common room. Harry had talked to Dobby and some of the other elves, and they had agreed to fix up lighting in the room and clean it up. They had also agreed to talk to Hogwarts and see if she could turn the bathroom into a proper, warded entrance for the common room. House elves were amazing.
"We could stay here you know." Lyra commented as she took a seat on the couch next to him. "Only have to go back up for lessons."
"We could." Harry commented. "And I like it here. We're almost like another house of Hogwarts."
"Yeah." Luna laughed softly. "The unofficial house of Hogwarts."
"House Hedwig." Harry smirked.
"I'll make banners!" Dean piped up.
Harry goggled slightly as everyone took the fifth house idea seriously.
"You know I was joking right?" he brought up nervously.
"We know!" Ginny chirped as she explored the room. "But it sounds fun!"
Harry had thought that only the school would calm down after a while. He was wrong.
The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their chance for glory. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. Ron and Hermione weren't talking to him either. Harry thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House.
Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape were the only two professors who weren't acting as though they had a grudge against him. They had even talked Dumbledore into calling the Aurors to inspect the Goblet. Harry met Nymphadora Tonks there, a bright metamorphmagus Auror who Harry had met at the Ministry's Summer Gala that he attended with the Malfoys.
Eventually they found a confundus charm on the goblet, but they were unable to trace the magical signature.
"It's alright." Tonks said cheerily, her bright pink hair turning purple. "Even if the school hates you, your friends don't. That's what matters most."
"Who were you friends with?" Harry asked.
"Charlie Weasley was my best friend." she grinned. "Eventually he left for Romania cause he loves dragons, but we still keep in touch."
"Are you with anyone?" Harry asked, wanting to know more about the auror.
"No." she laughed. "I'm aromantic, which means that I don't really do romance."
"Oh." Harry replied, not really sure how to respond.
"Enough about me." she smirked. "Tell me about you! After all, I'll be stationed at the school for protection this year."
"The entire school hates me." he scoffed. "That enough?"
"They can't hate you." Tonks said doubtfully, trailing off.
"Well they do." he grouched. "I'm just glad my friends haven't abandoned me."
"So you guys live in the Chamber of Secrets now?" she commented after some more conversation.
"Yeah." Harry grinned. "We talked to the house elves and they cleaned the chamber up properly. I even got a couple million galleons for the basilisk corpse, and I got duelling robes made for all of the my friends with the extra hide. I'm getting graphorn ones made when I go to Diagon Alley, but I didn't have enough money to get graphorn ones for both."
"Wicked." she cooed in awe.
"We also figured out a way to set a password on the area in Parseltongue, so I've been teaching my friends some phrases that we can use as passwords."
"Blimey." she whispered. "Could you teach me some?"
"Sure." Harry grinned. "Come on."
He led her up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which had been warded by the elves to look like a plain wall now. Moaning Myrtle was their unofficial house ghost, and the twins had convinced Peeves to be their head of house. It was all quite a silly affair.
"Open" he hissed, watching as the door opened. The bathroom was now a large room, a waiting room of sorts, with the hole in the middle covered by a plethora of chairs.
"Try it." he told her. "The first part is like hocking a spitball, and the second part resembles a leaking pipe."
"Kittens." Tonks hissed, prompting Harry to stifle a giggle.
"Try hissing a little more guttural." he advised.
"Open." she hissed, watching in surprise as it opened.
Harry laughed as her dumbfounded expression and leaped down the pipe, sliding down the newly cleaned pipe to stand up straight.
"AAAAHH!" Tonk's voice came echoing down the pipe as she slid down, landing on her feet. She stood dizzily, taking in her surroundings.
The Chamber, after being cleaned, was quite beautiful. The entrance hall was lit by torches that illuminated long columns, all of which were adorned with marble snakes.
"It's beautiful." Tonks breathed as they walked through to the entrance, which could be opened without a password now.
"Welcome to the headquarters of House Hedwig." Harry grinned with a flourish of his arm. The hall was now beautifully lit by torches that were suspended around the hall and in the air. It was clean and organized. There was a cluster of chairs in the corner, along with five, towering bookshelves stuffed to the brim with all of their books.
Luna and Dean were reading in a corner, while Seamus was duelling Ginny.
"This is wicked." Tonks laughed as she looked around, before straightening up. A patronus was floating down the hall to her.
Tonks, you're needed. Ministry, ten minutes.
The unearthly voice of Minister Bones floated in, and before Harry could say anything Tonks was running back, going up the staircase that led to the main hall.
"Hmm." he said nothing, walking back up to the hall.
He was peacefully in his own thoughts when he was disturbed.
"Hey traitor." his old friend Ron sneered at him.
"Weasley." Harry replied icily, slipping his wand into his hand.
"Ready to beg forgiveness yet?" he mocked.
"Not on your life." Harry sneered.
Harry wasn't sure who started the first volley of spells among Ron, Hermione, and some other Gryffindors, but he fought back.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he yelled, silently stunning another girl and slamming a boy into a wall with another spell.
"Depulso!" Hermione's voice came from behind, and Harry spun around too late. He dodged the spell, but it hit his wand.
He watched in a detached sense as his wand went flying into the wall, snapping in half cleanly. There was silence in the hall as Harry scrambled to his wand, cradling the fragmented pieces in his shaking hands.
"No." Harry whispered, his voice strangled. He vaguely heard the Gryffindors running away but he was too concentrated on the fractured pieces of his wand.
Shaking slightly, he let two tears fall in mourning before he straightened up wiping his tears away and heading to the common room.
"What happened?" Lyra asked.
"Weasley and Granger broke my wand." Harry hissed, pulling out the fragments of his old wand.
"Those bastards." Draco snarled. Luna just sat next to him and held his hand in a comforting way. Ginny was screaming up a klunkstorm, and Fred, George, and Lee had retired to the Potions Corner and were plotting revenge.
"You're going with Flitwick tomorrow to Diagon Alley for the duelling robes, right?" Lyra asked. "You should get a new wand there too, and bring your old wand. Ollivander might be able to fix it."
"They broke his wand Lyra." Daphne snarled, looking more savage than ever. "They should pay."
"They won't." Astoria scoffed. "Not if Dumbledore has anything to say about it."
Harry just stayed quiet, holding the fractures of his old wand.
"You should keep it somewhere safe." Seamus told him.
"I have a mokeskin pouch that Blaise gave me last year." Harry shrugged, walking away to his dorm room to put his wand fragments away.
"Ready to go Harry?" Flitwick asked him the next day. They stood in the Forbidden Forest, outside the grounds of Hogwarts.
"Yeah." Harry replied, mustering up a small smile.
"Have you ever side-along apparated before?"
"Once." Harry replied, recalling the dizzy, stomach-lurching experience from last summer.
Without a warning they lurched away, landing in Diagon Alley a few seconds later.
"Do you think I could stop at Gringotts?" Harry asked.
Professor Flitwick nodded, and they set off for Gringotts. Half an hour later Harry walked out with a bag full of gold from his basilisk.
"Ready to go?" Flitwick asked.
Harry fidgeted, not wanting to tell the Professor his wand was broken. Can I trust him?
"Professor, I need to stop at Ollivanders. My wand broke."
The diminutive professor raised his bushy eyebrows.
"But who would commit such a crime?"
"Gryffindors." Harry scowled, holding no love towards his old house.
Professor Flitwick said nothing, giving him a sad smile before following him to the old man's wand shop. They entered to the musty smell of wands.
"Mr Ollivander?" Harry called.
"Hello Mr Potter." he appeared from within the wand-laden shelves. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Harry looked at him mutely, pulling the fragments of his wand out of his mokeskin pouch.
The white-haired man raised an eyebrow. "It is incredibly hard to find a second wand Mr Potter."
"Can you make me a second wand?" Harry asked. "Craft it to my needs?"
"That will cost more."
"I'll do it anyway." he replied, undeterred.
"Follow me Mr Potter. Not Filius, though."
With a grin at his Charms Professor Harry followed the man down long aisles of messily arranged wand boxes to a wooden table.
"Come here Mr Potter." Ollivander told him, bringing him to a wall that had nearly thirty different samples of wood hung up on a woven carpet. "I want you to extend your magic and find which wood works best with you."
Harry closed his eyes and pushed his magic forward, feeling for the wood that felt as warm in his hand as his holly wand used to. There! A tingle of magic rushed through his body and he touched two pieces of wood.
"Holly and Cypress wood." Ollivander whispered. "Follow me!" he whispered more urgently, as though something special was about to happen.
They were now facing another wall, this one with small shelves in it, all of which held wand cores in vials.
"You know what to do."
Harry shut his eyes again, feeling for the tingle in his magic. His hand shot out and he touched two things in the shelves, his other hand touching his old wand core.
"Basilisk Venom and centaur hair." Ollivander whispered, the light making him appear a ghoul. "Mixed with your old wand core of phoenix feather."
He said nothing, leading Harry back to the shop's entrance, where Flitwick was peacefully waiting.
"Come back in two hours Mr Potter." the wizened wizard told him, ushering the two out of the shop.
"Would you like to stop for lunch Mr Potter?" Flitwick asked. "I know an excellent sandwich shop down the alley."
They stopped there for lunch, and then headed to Knockturn Alley for duelling robes. Strictly speaking, Graphorn Robes were a valuable and expensive commodity, so one had to go into the darker parts of Knockturn to find the robe shop. Fortunately, Professor Flitwick was well versed in the alley, being half goblin.
"Ready Harry?" he asked.
Harry nodded, pulling his robe over his head so to cover his face. The boy-who-lived would not be welcome in the darker parts of Knockturn Alley.
They entered Raven's Robes and walked to the counter.
"I want graphorn duelling robes." Harry stated, his voice rougher and deeper than usual thanks to the charms that Flitwick had placed on him.
The man at the counter raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can afford them?"
"Would I ask for them if I couldn't?" Harry snarled in return.
The man gave an oily, insincere smile before whirling around and disappearing into the back of his shop.
One hour later, Harry had been fitted with graphorn duelling robes, and his pouch was lighter by nearly half a million galleons.
"Back to the wand shop." Flitwick told him. The professor had gone off during Harry's robe fitting and bought himself some books on darker charms, though none of them were pure dark magic.
They walked back, Harry eager to get a new wand. Ollivander was already waiting for them as they entered the dusty shop.
"You wand is ready Mister Potter." he stated, pulling a wand box out. He opened it to reveal the wand, and Harry stared in reverence.
It was long, nearly thirteen inches, and it had carvings of wolves etched onto it. The lighter brown of cypress wood was swirling around the dark holly.
"Phoenix feather with centaru hair wrapped around it, submerged in a solution of basilisk venom." Ollivander told him. "As this is your second wand, I also took the liberty of "forgetting" to add the ministry runes that allow them to track you magic."
Harry started, staring at the wizened man in surprise. "Thank you." he stated sincerely.
"Dark times are coming Mr Potter." he replied, melting into the shadows of his shop. "You need all the help you can get."
There was silence, before Professor Flitwick broke it. "Ready to go Harry?"
Harry slashed his new wand downwards, a stream of sparks emerging from the tip of his wand. It felt right, amazing even, to do magic with this wand.
"It's perfect." he murmured, finally breaking out of his trance. "Ready."
Flitwick held out his hand, and they apparated back to Hogwarts. The professor had been given permission to apparate in and out through the wards for the day by the headmaster.
"Thank you professor." Harry told him.
"My pleasure Harry. You are my duelling student, and I daresay that with these new robes we may be able to take our practice duels to new levels. I myself only have dragonskin duelling robes."
"Professor." Harry started, feeling as though he had to thanks him for teaching Harry. "I have some extra basilisk skin left over, and I could have a pair of duelling robes commissioned for you."
Flitwick raised a bushy eyebrow. "Nonsense Harry! I would not want you wasting money like that on me."
"No, I think I should.' Harry decided, confident in his decision. "I owe you something, Professor."
He smiled, lighting up his face. "Thank you Harry."
Harry grinned brightly, before going off to the chamber.
"Power." he hissed, the tube opening up. Every week he would teach them a new word in Parseltongue, and that would become their password.
"Harry!" a chorus of voices greeted him as he entered.
"Did you get your new and?" Dennis asked.
Harry laughed, flicking it out of his wand holster. "Cypress and Holly. Centaur hair wrapped around my old phoenix feather doused in basilisk venom."
"He has put your soul on the wand." Luna stated, fingering the wolf carvings.
Harry glanced at Lyra, both of them thinking the same thing. His animagus? Luna was a seer…
"Let's try a duel!" Draco cheered, pulling his wand out.
Harry grinned, getting into a duelling position in the vast Chamber of Secrets.
"Begin!" Astoria shouted, and Harry immediately let out a volley of spells that crashed against Draco's shield.
Damn. This wand was better at channeling magic than his old one; he would have to be careful.
"Incendio!" he shouted, sending a gout of fire at Draco while rolling out of the way of the bone-breaking hex sent his way.
Draco sent a flame back, and Harry made a shield of water.
"Fulgur!" he bellowed, a flash of lightning coming out of the edge of his wand. It hit Draco's shield, and after a small fight of magic broke through it and threw him to the ground.
"Allright?" Harry asked as he jogged over to his friend.
"Fine." Draco wheezed, allowing Susan to fix the hole in his shirt with a small spell.
"Where did you learn that spell?" Blaise asked.
"Books." Harry replied with a small smile. "I have to get to my duelling lesson now."
Harry passed the house crest that Dean had created for fun. It was Hedwig, with a basilisk coiled around her wing joints, sitting on a pile of books. The basilisk had a lightning bolt in his jaws.
"Ready Harry?" Flitwick asked in his office.
"Could we try something different today?" Harry asked.
Professor Flitwick motioned for him to continue.
"I lost in a duel to more than one opponent, and I want to practice duelling many people."
"I am only one person, so I cannot do such a thing. I suggest duelling your friends, two or three at a time."
"Ok." Harry shrugged. "Shall we begin?"
Without a preamble Professor Flitwick let out a volley of spells, which Harry shielded. The few that got through sparked harmlessly against his duelling robes. Harry grinned and let out the lightning spell again while creating a smokescreen and disillusioning himself.
Professor Flitwick just dodged the spell and screamed "Venti!" which let out a gust of air that dispelled his smokescreen.
"Aguamenti blattea!" Flitwick commanded, and a rain of purple water washed down on Harry, revealing his position.
Harry let out a string of curses before preparing for a bigger curse, trusting for his robes to repel all magic. That was his undoing, and before he knew what had happened he was rocketing across the room.
"That was an excellent duel Harry!" Professor Flitwick smiled, letting him down off the wall. "Can you point out your mistake?"
"I relied on the robes instead of my magic." Harry sighed, gulping down water.
"Good Harry. A shield charm would have been more appropriate."
"Thanks for the lesson Professor." Harry thanked him, before heading back.
Dear Sirius
I thought you should know that I was picked to compete in the Triwizard Tournament as the Hogwarts Champion. The entire school got really mad, and now my true friends and I (Not Ron and Hermione) are living in the Chamber of Secrets. Please don't come here, it would put you in danger. I am fine, and if you want to talk I can look at the fireplace in the chamber. Snape and Professor Flitwick are on my side though. Oh, and Tonks the auror. She's your cousin.
Love,
Harry
Harry sat in the potions lesson, brewing peacefully with Lyra. Hermione, no Granger, was noticeably absent since Draco had hexed her in a fight. Hermione had ragged on him for abandoning his house and consorting with dark wizards, and Draco, in anger, elongated her teeth. Unfortunately, Granger had let off a curse that fortunately hit Goyle, Nott's potion partner.
He ignored the Potter Stinks badge that Weasley flashed at him. Theo Nott had created the badges, and was marketing them for free. Ginny had taken his entire stock and burnt it all when the teachers weren't looking.
He smashed the raspberries into paste and gave them to Lyra, who spooned it into the cauldron while he stirred the potion. He was much better now that Snape wasn't breathing down his shoulder the entire time.
Just then, the door creaked open and Colin walked in. "Professor Snape, I need Harry for the tournament. Their doing some sort of Weighing of the Wands."
"Go Potter." Snape told him. "Nott, partner with the female Malfoy since your partner is missing."
Nott grinned and walked over, while Lyra sneered and pointedly scooted her chair away from him. Harry wasn't completely sure how he felt about Nott's obvious crush on Lyra.
"Bye." he told her quietly before following Colin out the dore.
"What's the weighing of the wands?" Colin asked.
Harry, having done his research, replied, "It's where they bring in a wandmaker to check the champions wands to make sure they are in top shape."
"But didn't you get a new wand?" Colin asked.
"It doesn't matter." he shrugged. "If anyone asks, a bunch of cowardly lions broke my wand in a seven on one fight."
Harry knocked on the door and entered, bidding Colin farewell.
He was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Four chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.
Viktor and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.
"Ah, everyone is here!" Bagman laughed. "Everyone, I want to introduce Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet. She'll be doing a small piece on the tournament."
Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.
"May I have a few word with the champions before we start?" she asked, eyeing Harry like a predator.
"Certainly!" Bagman exclaimed.
"Youngest first." she stated, going over to Harry and making to grab his arm.
"Do not touch me." Harry stated coldly. "If you want an interview, you do it on my terms."
"And what are those?"
"I will also give an interview to the Quibbler, the magazine my friend runs. You also can't twist any of my words out of proportion like in your other articles, or I'll sue you. All the other champions have to get equal time."
She stared surprised, before smirking. "You know how to play the game. Lovely."
After a short interview they went back up, and Rita went up for Viktor, then Fleur.
"Shall we weigh the wands now?" Dumbledore asked them all.
"Let us begin!" Bagman cheered.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
Harry looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. He had just visited the old wizard a few days ago for his new wand. Harry surreptitiously flicked it out, examining the polished surface discreetly.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmm..." he said.
He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully.
"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches...inflexible...rosewood...and containing...dear me..."
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."
So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry. That just proved his theory.
"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands...however, to each his own, and if this suits you..."
Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Krum, you next."
Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Viktor as he passed her.
Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.
"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I...however..."
He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.
"Yes...hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees...quite rigid...ten and a quarter inches...Avis!"
The hornbeam wand let off a blast hike a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.
"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Which leaves...Mr. Potter."
Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.
"Aah, what a beautiful piece. It's as though I just made it."
Harry smirked at the old wizard, who smiled secretively.
"Thirteen inches, I believe, with Holly and Cypress wood. Phoenix feather with centaur hair wrapped around it in a solution of basilisk venom."
"I had thought you wand was holly and phoenix feather Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying not to look impressed at the fact that Harry had a custom made wand with more than two cores. Three was rare, though not impossible.
"I was ambushed by six Gryffindors a week ago, and they broke my wand." Harry sneered. "Cowardly lions. I had to get a new wand during my trip with Professor Flitwick to purchase duelling robes."
"I had thought you were a Gryffindor?" Karkaroff sneered.
"They abandoned me." Harry snorted. "I am not one of them."
"What about your Gryffindor pride Dumbledore?" Karkaroff jeered.
"I am sure you are just blowing the situation up Mr Potter." Dumbledore attempted to placate him.
"No I'm not." Harry snorted. "Can we continue?"
Ollivander took his wand and created a wave of water with it, before proclaiming his wand prefect and sending him back.
"Pictures!" Skeeter trilled.
After ten minutes of pictures, in which they had to take group shots and singles, they were finally free to go.
"Ready to for the interview Harry?" Luna asked as she bounced into the common room.
"Yeah Lulu." he grinned, getting ready to talk.
Dennis and Colin had officially been pulled on as photographers for the Quibbler, and were paid five galleons per photo.
The article came out a few days later.
The Triwizard Tournament!
By Rita Skeeter
Hello readers, and aren't we all excited to know that the Triwizard Tournament is back! For those who do not know what it's, the Triwizard Tournament is a tournament with three schools and three tournaments, where the three compete for the Triwizard Cup!
This year's champions are Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker who caught the snitch this summer at the Quidditch Cup, from Durmstrang. Fleur Delacour, daughter of the famous politician Apolline Delacour, will be competing for Beauxbatons. Hogwarts, however, is represented by its very own Harry Potter!
Mister Potter is unaware as to how he was entered even though he is underage, and our hearts go out to him. After the Gryffindors kicked him out, accusing him to using dark magic to become a champion, Harry and his friends have been living in the Chamber of Secrets as the unofficial fifth house of Hogwarts, what they have playfully dubbed House Hedwig after Harry's owl.
"I didn't put my name in the cup." Harry says. "My friends and I think its a death eater plot, especially after what has happened the past few years."
For those who don't know, Mister Potter was attacked by Quirinus Quirrel, the DADA teacher in his first year, and in his second year he killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets so he could save his friend Ginevra Weasley.
"My 'eart goes out to 'arry. He is younger, an' he 'as been thrown in the deep end." Fleur Delacour says.
"Potter is an honourable opponent." Viktor Krum states. "I do not believe he put his name in the cup."
When asked who would win the tournament, all champions had a different response.
"I hope to win." Harry says honestly, "But the others are more experienced than I, and I just want to not put Hogwarts to shame. If my parents were alive I think they would be supporting me in my attempt to survive the tournament."
"Eet comes down to training. I have been learning the entire summer with tutors as part of the program my muzzer put me in." Fleur says. "I am confident in victory."
"I vill bring broom skills to competition." Krum says, refusing to elaborate.
So who will take the cup, glory, and one thousand galleons? Is it Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived and slayed basilisks? Is it gorgeous Fleur Delacour, with an affinity for fire and training. Or will it be Viktor Krum, the dashing Bulgarian seeker?
Harry grinned as he read the article. Rita Skeeter had not embellished too much, and her article was pretty tame. Luna, on the other hand, had decided to write an entire article about him and his adventures to back up the Daily Prophet, and another article about past tournaments.
Sirius had also responded, and his anger at the rest of Hogwarts had been palatable in the barely legible, slightly crumpled letter.
Dear Harry,
If the rest of Hogwarts doesn't want you they can go fuck themselves. I'm on your side pup, throughout it all. I have enclosed books handwritten by the marauders on how to become an animagus, and I think you should start your journey. Do you think you can meet me on the 22nd by floo for the Chamber? Around one in the morning. I'll need the floo code sent.
Love,
Sirius
Life settled for a while after that. Harry and his friends continued to train and practice fighting. Harry was getting better at using transfiguration in duels, though he still preferred charms and curses. They had an amazing Hogsmeade weekend, though Harry had been temporarily awestruck by Lyra's stunning silver tank shirt, black pants, and silver cuff bracelet.
Dean had laughed in private at him, causing Harry to send a small stinging jinx at him. He didn't like Lyra. Right? Harry honestly wasn't completely sure what if felt like to like someone. Was it butterflies, like the ones he got when Lyra was hugging him?
Harry crept through the forest under his invisibility cloak, following Hagrid. The half-giant had told him that since Harry was underage, he had no qualms about helping him, and taken him to the forest. Was it just him, or was it getting hotter?
A loud roar interrupted his thoughts and Harry spun around to see dragons.
Dragons.
His mind blanked out for a second and then he was diving behind a tree. Were the organizers of the tournament insane? Dear Merlin, he didn't know what he was going to do. A dragon shot a flame in his direction, and Harry identified the blue-purple shade of pure fire, one that only Hebridean Blacks sent out.
That was one.
He crept around and found another dragon, this one with spikes all over was only twenty feet long, and Harry identified a Peruvian Vipertooth. Dodging a gout of flame that nearly hit him to went a little further in, hoping to find the last dragon. He sighed when he saw the hard scaled of it.
A Norwegian Ridgeback.
He crept back to the castle, entering the Chamber for his floo call.
Sitting next to the fire, he started on the book he found about dragons in the library, since he had a lot of time before it was one.
Dragons are an incredibly rare species, and are housed in dragon reserves around the world. All dragons have weaknesses, and ways to be conquered. Females are more aggressive than their male counterparts, and there are ten purebred breeds of dragons.
Harry flipped to the section on Hungarian Horntails. It was nearly ten pages, though most of it was diagrams on the dragon and how it worked.
The Hungarian Horntail is one of the most dangerous dragons in existence. It has black scaled and is lizard-like in appearance. It also has yellow eyes and bronze horns/spikes that protrude from its long tail. It has one of the longest fire-breathing ranges (up to 50 feet), though if sprayed with water, it will back down. This is due to the fact that the Horntail is a creature of pure fire, and water will cool it and cause it pain. It's eggs are cement-coloured and hard shelled. The Horntail feeds on goats and sheeps, though it loves humans.
Harry hummed. If he got the horntail he would have to use a mass aguamenti and maybe freeze it in a shell on the dragon. That would take a lot of charm work. Next, the Hebridean Black.
The Hebridean Black is native to Great Britain, like the Welsh Green (see page 74). It requires a territory of nearly a hundred square miles per dragon, and is up to thirty feet in length. The Hebridean Black is rough scaled, with brilliant purple eyes and shallow but razor-sharp ridges along it's back. Its tail has an arrow like spike, and it has bat-like wings. This dragon breathes pure fire, a purple-blue color, and is jet black, hence its moniker. The Hebridean Black is prone to dizziness very easily, so on dragon reserves workers take to the air and soar around the dragon in circles, confusing it until if flops to the ground, docile and dizzy.
Harry grinned. This could be one of the best choices, because he could use his Firebolt for this. Hmm, he was only able to take his wand. A summoning charm would do the trick, and he could learn how to brew a fire-resistance potion. Now the Norwegian Ridgeback. Harry was reminded of Norberta, the Ridgeback and Harry and his old friends had smuggled to Romania in order to help Hagrid.
The Norwegian Ridgeback is the most dangerous dragon and resembles the Hungarian Horntail (see page 96), though instead of tail spikes it sports prominent black ridges along its back. This dragon, especially aggressive to its own kind, is a muddy green color and lined with hard scales that are nearly impossible to penetrate. It is a rarer breed, and its eggs are black. Though this dragon is strong, it is also easily distracted. A bait of sheep or cows will distract it from protecting its clutch of eggs.
Harry smiled. He would have to learn how to conjure an animal, or transfigure one. He was more for conjuring, since a transfigured animal would be weaker and not last as long.
"Psst, Harry." Sirius's voice came from the fireplace.
"Sirius!" Harry scrambled down, placing the book on the table. "It's so good to see you!"
And it was. Harry had no living relatives and Sirius was the only person he had, his godfather.
"Harry." Sirius laughed warmly in the fireplace. He looked different, with soot coating his hair. "Do you know what the first task is?"
"Dragons." Harry sighed. "I just found out a few hours ago."
Sirius let out a string of curses, none of which were appropriate. "Dragons?! What were they thinking?"
"I asked the same thing." Harry laughed slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. "They have a Hebridean Black, Hungarian Horntail, and Norwegian Ridgeback."
"You're going to have to refresh me on dragon knowledge Harry." Sirius told him.
"The horntail is sensitive to water, the hebridean gets dizzy easily, and the ridgeback is easily distracted by food."
"Well, do you know the aguamenti?" Sirius asked. "I suggest practicing mass water charms, and your flying skills when people are shooting spells at you. Also conjuring of food."
"We think so alike." Harry laughed.
Sirius grinned, and then his face turned serious. "There is more I have to warn you about. Karkaroff is a death eater."
"What?"
"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year - to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."
"Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly - his brain seemed to be struggling to absorb yet another piece of shocking information. "Why did they release him?"
"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Sirius bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names...he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place...He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."
"Okay, Viktor's pretty cool though," said Harry slowly. "But...are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."
"We know he's a good actor," said Sirius, "because he convinced the Ministry of Magic to set him free, didn't he?"
"Are you saying that Karkaroff put my name in the goblet to try to kill me?" Harry asked, his brain trying to piece the puzzle together.
"I've been hearing some very strange things," he said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark...and then - did you hear about that Ministry of Magic witch who's gone missing?"
"Bertha Jorkins?" said Harry.
"Exactly...she disappeared in Albania, and that's definitely where Voldemort was rumored to be last...and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"
"Yeah, but...it's not very likely she'd have walked straight into Voldemort, is it?" said Harry.
"Listen, I knew Bertha Jorkins," said Sirius grimly. "She was at Hogwarts when I was, a few years above your dad and me. And she was an idiot. Very nosy, but no brains, none at all. It's not a good combination, Harry. I'd say she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."
"So...so Voldemort could have found out about the tournament?" said Harry. "Is that what you mean? You think Karkaroff might be here on his orders?"
"I don't know," said Sirius slowly, "I just don't know...Karkaroff doesn't strike me as the type who'd go back to Voldemort unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason, and I can't help thinking the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it hook like an accident."
"Looks hike a really good plan from where I'm standing," said Harry grinning bleaky. "They'll just have to stand back and let the dragons do their stuff."
"I have to go!" Sirius said, peeking around his shoulder furtively. "I'm borrowing someone's house! Good luck Harry!" With a pop, he was gone.
Harry stared at the embers of the fireplace until they burnt out, thinking until he fell asleep right there.
"Ictus!" Lyra screamed, and Harry did a barrel roll to avoid the oncoming spell. They were in the Chamber, and Harry was flying around while the rest shot jinxes at him. The Chamber was big enough for this.
"Aagh!" he yelled as Astoria's well aimed jinx pushed him into the path of Hannah's stinger.
"Dead!" Ginny shouted, sitting on the Statue of Slytherin. "Fifteen minutes though!"
Harry panted, putting his broom to the side. "I'm gonna take a break, and then I want to practice the conjuring."
After a ten minutes break they went to conjuring, Harry doing his best to conjure a simple snail, as it had little to no bones.
"Cochlea sie!" Harry said, nothing happening.
"You have to envision it Harry." Fred told him.
"Imagine the snail appearing." George finished.
"Every single little part of it."
It took a while, but Harry was finally able to conjure a snail.
"You look exhausted; we should stop." Seamus told him.
"It was easy to conjure a rooster in second year." Harry muttered.
"That was partially fuelled by accidental magic though." Lee replied.
Harry sat in Moody's office, staring at the old man.
"Why do you need to know sir?" he asked. "I don't think you're supposed to help champions."
"You're younger Potter, and at a disadvantage. Krum and Delacour will already know; cheating is a part of the tournament."
"I have a plan." he replied firmly. "And it's none of your business."
With that, he left.
Chapter 15: Zarco the Norwegian Ridgeback
Harry sat in the tent, tapping his leg and waiting for Bagman to enter. He was in his duelling robes, and he had his wand. His firebolt was ready to be summoned and he had mastered the aguamenti even better than before.
So why was he so nervous?
Fleur Delacour was sitting in a corner on a how wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves.
Bagman entered, cheerful as usual.
"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too...ah, yes...your task is to collect the dragon egg!"
Dead silence was met with this words. Harry finally broke it.
"So you want us to go out, face a nesting mother dragon, and steal an egg from her clutch."
Bagman nodded, his pink face rather confused.
"You, and all tournament organizers, are idiots." he proclaimed, before going to sit down.
And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking...Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then - it seemed like about a second later to Harry - Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.
"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.
She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - Hebridean Black. It had the number two around its neck And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.
The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the Hungarian Horntail. It had a number one around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.
Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Norwegian Ridgeback, and the number three. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.
"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Krum, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now...Harry...could I have a quick word? Outside?"
"No." Harry replied flatly. "I'm busy."
With those cold words he turned around, subconsciously tracing the wand movements for the conjuring spell. If he could conjure some cows and pigs…
He heard the whistle and Krum stepped outside, his wand grippedi n white-knuckled hands.
He felt much more aware of his body than usual; very aware of the way his heart was pumping fast, and his fingers tingling with fear...yet at the same time, he seemed to be outside himself, seeing the walls of the tent, and hearing the crowd, as though from far away.
"Very daring!" Bagman was yelling, and Harry heard the Hungarian Horntail emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing - and - yes, he's got the egg!"
Applause shattered the wintery air like breaking glass; Krum had finished - it would be Fleur's turn any moment.
Fleur was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt more warmly toward her than he had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. He was left alone.
The same process started again..."Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh...nearly! Careful now...good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"
Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more...Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown...more clapping...then, for the third time, the whistle.
He stood up, noticing dimly that his legs seemed to be made of marshmallow. He waited. And then he heard the whistle blow. He walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside him. And now he was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.
He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Ridgeback, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her bright, green, eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, mud-green lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, heaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn't know or care. It was time to do what he had to do...to focus his mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was his only chance.
He raised his wand.
"Vaccas creo!" he said. "Porcos creo! Ovium creo!" In a burst six animals were conjured: two cows, pigs, and sheep.
At the same time he said a silent summoning charm to summon his invisibility cloak, which flew into his arm. The ridgeback flew at the animals, allowing Harry to drape the cloak around him and cast a silent scent-masking charm.
"And it looks like Mr Potter has distracted the dragon and disappeared from sight!"
Harry ran as fast as he could towards the eggs while keeping the cloak on, barely aware of anything else. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he reached the nest and carefully pulled out a beautiful egg. Then, to his horror, he heard the unmistakable stomping noise of a mother dragon right behind him.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned around, keeping the egg behind his back and doing his best to hide it in the invisibility cloak using one hand. He was faced with the sight of the mother dragon, her neck slightly above him, breathing heavily.
Harry froze, aware of every acute detail in front of him. He noticed the silence in the stands, the heavy breathing of the ridgeback, and the pink scar down the fleshy neck of the dragon. He felt a tug at his mind, an old memory long forgotten.
"Oh Look Harry!" Hagrid moaned softly. "Norbert gone and cut himself on the eggshell!"
"He's going to be left with a scar, isn't he?" Harry asked, petting the small dragon on the head. Norbert had bonded with him in an amazing way, just like with Hagrid.
But it couldn't be…
"How's Norbert?" Harry asked Charlie Weasley in his second year summer, wondering for the dragon.
"Norbert?" the robust boy asked in confusion. "Oh, you mean Norberta! She's doing fine."
"She's female?"
"Yeah. But you can't tell until she's about six months old."
"Norberta?" he breathed, looking up at the dragon.
Her head receded, until she was staring right at him. Harry steadily raised his shaking hand, making sure not to scare the Norwegian Ridgeback. She stared at him steadily, her green eyes matching the shade of his emerald orbs, until Harry had a hand rested on her scaled snout.
She snorted and let out a large tongue to give him a long lick. Harry was surprised and ended up with half of his hair sticking up as though he was in the cartoons.
"Hey Norberta." he soothed her, reminded of the task. "I need to go."
She cocked her head to the side, watching as he inched his way away from the nest, masking the scent of the egg with his own. She snorted and flumped towards him all of a sudden, her teeth snapping at him slightly. Harry, startled, dropped the cloak with the egg in it.
"I'm sorry." Harry said softly, raising his hand again.
She cocked her head, her long fangs inches away from his sweating head.
"Please." he continued, taking the fact that he wasn't dead yet for granted. "I need it, and I don't want to hurt you. I'll take care of him."
She breathed silently, glaring, before nuzzling her head into his hand, picking up the egg, and dropping it on the cloak. She licked him one last time and sat down.
"Thank you." Harry grinned broadly, petting her one last time before dashing off.
He didn't hear what Bagman said, all he knew was that Norberta had given him the egg!
"Harry!" Lyra screamed as she barrelled into him, wrapping him in a hug.
Harry laughed, hugging her back and greeting the rest of his friends.
"Blimey." Draco breathed. "It's a real dragon egg."
He loved dragons, like his namesake.
"Mr Potter!" Madame Pomfrey called him, hustling him into the tent. "Are you hurt?"
"No." Harry nodded. He noticed that Viktor had a scratch on his arm and Fleur had burn paste on her legs.
"'Ow did you get past the dragon weezout eet burning you?"
"I recognized the dragon." Harry shrugged. "I was there when she hatched, and we had a bond. I just reignited it and asked her to give me the egg."
He knew that the others might see it as cheating, but they didn't. There was just respect in their eyes.
"Come on, their announcing points!" Hannah told him, and they walked outside.
Dumbledore raised his wand and a nine shot out of the end. Madame Maxime gave him a ten, as did Bagman and Crouch. Karkaroff sneered before shooting out a five from the end of his wand.
"What?" Colin yelped. "He gave Krum a ten!"
"It doesn't matter!" Dennis cheered. "Harry's in first place!"
Harry had 44 points, putting him in the lead.
"Fleur used her veela magic to charm the dragon to sleep, but it let out a snort of fire that burnt her skirt." Ginny narrated. "Krum used his broom to fly around the Horntail and it crashed into a tower, giving him an opportunity to get an egg."
"Harry!" Harry heard the voice of Ron Weasley behind him.
"Wasn't it Potter a while ago?" Harry asked cooly.
He stopped short. "Well yeah, but I figured we're all right now, yeah?"
"Just 'cause I beat the dragon?" Harry sneered.
"Look, we're just trying to apologize." Granger came up behind Weasley.
"Well I don't want your apologies." Harry replied. "I have friends who didn't abandon me, and you're not one of them."
"Look, you're being incredibly ungrateful right now!" Granger grated on him, her voice loud.
"Sure." Harry laughed. "Come on." with that, they left.
"I can't believe we get to watch a dragon egg hatch." Draco whispered in the Chamber. They were sitting, the egg in a nest in the middle.
"I'm looking at spells and books, but it'll be really hard to take care of a baby Ridgeback for the first month or so. After that they become more independent." Fred stated.
"You'll need warming spells, and he or she will need a lot of meat. Dragon babies also drink milk." George said.
"I'll send a letter to father. He can have the supplies shipped to us." Draco replied, already scribbling on a piece of parchment.
"What do you think: he or she?" Lyra asked.
"It's a he." Luna stated.
"I'll never get how you always know that." Colin shook his head.
"She's a seer." Astoria stated. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Cool." Colin whispered, while Astoria rolled her eyes.
"It's hatching!" Hannah squealed, diverting their attention to the egg. True to her word, a thin line of cracks had appeared in the egg.
They all watched as the line spread further and further down the egg, before a small claw poked through the eggshell.
"Aaaww!" Daphne and Susan cooed as the dragon pushed itself out of the egg, flopping onto the ground with a purring noise.
Harry laughed quietly and fed the small dragon a piece of meat from his hand. Cooing, he used his talons to climb up Harry's arm and hide in his robes, his black scales blending with the black robes.
"What's his name?" Blaise asked.
"What about Zarco?" Harry asked.
"I like it." Lyra grinned.
Harry took Zarco with him everywhere, and it was clear to all that he was enamoured by the tiny dragon. Zarco was equally loyal to Harry, and even burnt Granger's robes when she snuck up on him. Zarco was growing bigger and bigger.
The group had also found a message in ancient runes hidden on the eggshell of the norwegian ridgeback. They already knew the task was on February 24, but that was all.
Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot go outside the dark,
And while you're searching ponder this;
We've stolen what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour, the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
Dragon riders heed our call,
Together work or you will fall.
"So what do you think it means?" Lyra asked from her perch in the tree. Luna and Draco were next to her.
"Well they've taken something I'm gonna miss, and I have an hour to find it. It's somewhere in the dark, and we have to ride our dragons to get it. To get the item, we'll have to work together or we'll fail."
"The problem is where the thing will be hidden." Draco said grimly.
"Somewhere in the dark." Lyra hummed. "Underground?"
"Dragon's can't fly there." Harry replied.
"They could built tunnels or something." Lyra offered.
"No." Harry shook his head. "There's something we're missing."
"You must search the Darkling." Luna told him.
"That's it!" he exclaimed. "I know that the Forbidden Forest used to be called the Darkling Woods in the time of Merlin, so it must be in the forest!"
"So some creatures hidden deep in the forest guard the things stolen." Draco surmised, flipping off of the tree.
"Which creatures?" Harry asked.
"We'll figure that out later." Lyra shrugged. "Come on, there's supposed to be an announcement, and Peeves is eavesdropping on the other houses!"=
"A dance?" Harry asked.
"Do I have to repeat myself." Peeves scowled.
"Come on Harrikins!" Fred cooed.
"It's just a dance!" George finished.
"Does anyone properly know how to dance?" Draco asked.
Surprisingly, only the Slytherins and Susan raised their hands.
"It's part of a pureblood upbringing, for balls." Susan shrugged.
"Let's have lessons!" Daphne squealed. "Come on, pair up!"
Harry grinned and turned to Lyra, smirking teasingly. "A dance, milady."
"Of course." she laughed, curtseying and taking his hand.
Peeves had snatched the record player from the Gryffindors and had a waltz set to it, so everyone started to dance in the chamber.
"Harry you fox." Lee smirked as he passed on Daphne Greengrass's arm, and Harry suddenly became infinitely aware of Lyra's hands on his shoulders, and her waist. He gulped, hoping no one noticed, and gave her what he hoped was a confident smile at her questioning look.
"You look like a bunch of sorry sods BEING CRUICIATED!" Susan bellowed. "FEET SHOULDER WIDTH!"
Yup, there was no doubt about it. He liked her, and now he didn't know what to do. Damn, now he was sweating. The dance ended and he dashed off without trying to appear weird, heading for Luna.
"Hey Luna." he smiled, doing his best to correct his footing as he nearly stepped on her foot.
"There are lots of wrackspurts around your head Harry." she stated, her blue eyes wide.
"It's nothing Luna." he replied.
"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF MY ASS ZABINI!" Ginny screeched.
There was silence, before Luna spoke up at the end of the dance. "She likes you too you know."
Before he could respond Susan barked, "OK, class over! We'll meet again next Saturday!"
"Why so flushed Harry?" Dean asked, nudging him with his elbow.
Blaise laughed. "Il povero zotico è innamorato."
"In english." Seamus said.
"The poor sod is in love." Draco translated, coming in from the shadows.
Harry stared, knowing that Draco would be protective of his sister even though she could kick his ass.
"Come on Harry." Draco said quietly. "I've been practicing my big brother talk since third year."
Harry took a sharp turn on his broom and hovered above the pitch. Damn, could Draco be scary with his threats. Saddest part was Draco didn't even threaten him.
He said he would let Lyra have her free way with him and Harry wouldn't get any help. He smirked. They both knew that if he hurt her, Draco's anger would be nothing on Lyra.
"I swear Harry, if you hurt her she will tie you up and beat your sorry ass to a pulp, and then start cursing you. I'm just not going to help you or stop her at all."
He shuddered. He knew exactly how scary she could be. Last time she got really mad at the twins and Lee, or as they called themselves the Mini-Marauders, there was hell to pay. They had been in the hospital wing for three days, and never crossed her again.
The last Hogsmeade trip had been quiet, to say the least. All the girls had gone off to shop for the Yule Ball, so the boys were left alone, seeing as all of them just had dress robes shipped from Madame Malkins.
The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter. Harry was glad of its fires and thick walls every time he passed the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the high winds, its black sails billowing against the dark skies. He thought the Beauxbatons caravan was likely to be pretty chilly too. Hagrid, he noticed, was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey.
Harry had gone even further in his usual gift of fabrics to the elves and had worked with the rest of his house to bake them brownies as thanks for their help in keeping House Hedwig fed.
Harry had been planning to check out the forest for threats, but was more distracted by the fact that he still didn't have a date for the Yule Ball. Luna was going with Draco, Daphne with Blaise, and Dean had even caught Seamus. They had decided that if they would be outcasts, they would do it their way.
Everyone in the house had cheered as Dean relented and agreed to go with Seamus to the ball. Susan and Hannah were going with Fred and George, and Lee with Ginny.
He sighed slightly and sat down on the Astronomy Tower, looking out at the sunset. He heard footsteps behind him, but he knew that it was Lyra.
"Hey." she murmured, looking out at the sunset with him.
"Tired?" he asked.
"Yeah." she smirked. "Nott tried to ask me to the ball, you know? I obviously turned him down."
"Do you even have a date?" Harry asked, turning to face her.
"No." she shrugged. "You?"
Harry was silent, wondering if he could have the guts to ask her. He gulped. He could do this, he could do this.
"WillyougototheYuleBallwithme?" he blurted out, wincing at the confused expression on her face.
"Slower Harry." she replied.
He gulped again, his throat dry. "Will you go to the Ball with me?"
He winced again, watching Lyra's face. To his relief, she smiled. "I'd love to."
"Oh thank Merlin." he sighed, flopping onto the ground. "You know how hard it was for me to ask you?"
"Well you needn't have worried." she laughed. "We should get back."
Harry looked out at the now dark sky and grinned that he had gotten to go with Lyra. Maybe the Ball wouldn't be so bad after all.
Harry sat in his bed, looking at the pile of presents. He could hardly remember a time when the Dursley's gifted him toothpicks, not with the gifts his friends gave him. His dress robes had arrived too, and he put them aside while popping a chocolate frog in his mouth. He had received a good number of books, a leather cuff, and candy.
Colin and Dennis had gotten together and sent him all the pictures they had taken that year to put in his photo album, and Dean had gone through Slytherin's books and made a painting for the entire room, one of the Salazar Slytherin. It had yet to wake up, because that would take a decade or so.
"Snowball fight?" Blaise asked from across the room.
Harry smiled widely. "Yeah."
"Three hours?" Seamus scoffed. "Why the hell do the girls need three hours to get ready? And why are Colin and Dennis with them?"
"They're helping out. The girls want a photoshoot done or something."
Meanwhile, in the Girl's Dorm
"WHERE'S THE BLOODY HAIRBRUSH?" Susan shrieked.