Chapter 5: The Triwizard Tournament
A/N
You lucky people get another chapter today!
I felt that the chapter I gave yesterday, though necessary, was lacking.
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It was a rather bittersweet feeling as she watched the Beauxbatons Palace begin to drift into the distance from her window within the carriage. For the past six years, the school had been her home away from home, the place she had come to love, and loath at times, in equal measure.
Her first year had been one of joy. She had made friends and had been enthralled by the practice of magic, had dedicated herself to her studies in a bid to become the best she could be. She was a Delacour and it was expected that she comported herself as such, committed herself to fulfil her potential and represent her family with grace and poise. She had done this, her maman and papa smiling proudly when their eldest daughter arrived home and told them of the year she'd had, the warm smile she wore pulling at her lips for days after the man stuck her grades on the door of his office at work.
Second year had proven to be even better than the first. She had continued to shine, had started to cultivate a reputation of being excellent, particularly in her charms work, a reputation that grew with each passing year, despite what else had changed.
It was when she arrived for her third term at the school that these changes started to show. It was rather strange for a thirteen-year-old girl to lose friends for no apparent reason. She had perhaps thought they didn't like that she did better than them in classes, though that proved to be false. She tried to hold back a little, but nothing changed, if anything it got worse.
It was not until a despondent girl returned home for Christmas that her mother sat her down and explained what was happening to her. She of course knew of her heritage, had been taught to be proud of what she was. Such a thing, however, proved much harder to do when faced with losing those you thought cared for you.
For some time, she hated what she was, wished nothing more for that part of her to go away so that she could have those friends back. Deep down, she knew it couldn't be. Magic was a wondrous thing, but it could not change who you were. Underneath any glamour, you were still very much what magic made you.
It took time, but she when returned for her fourth year, she had lost some of that naivety. She no longer wanted the friends she had lost. She could see that they had been no friend to her at all if such a trivial thing as her heritage could get in the way. So, she continued to shine, refused to allow the opinion of others effect who she was.
She ignored the gawking males and looks of jealousy from the insecure females as she carried on with her head held high. The majority believed she had become conceited, thought of herself more highly than any other or that she was better than them.
Perhaps that was true. Fleur Delacour would never have treated any of them any differently the way they had her, looked down her nose at them as she had been, and she would never have judged them the way they did.
Admittedly, she could be rather short with some, those that did not get the message that she was not interested or those girls she had heard whispering about her when they thought she couldn't hear, but they deserved it. Why should she have to be polite to those that did not grant her the same courtesy?
She sighed as she pulled her gaze from the window.
It was her that had thrived through it all. She had dedicated herself to her studies, no longer caring about other's opinions of her. She was a warm person, kind to those she held dear, but life had taught her these were now and would always be few. Her heritage would always be a factor, an issue for many who believed the nonsense spouted about her kind. She was a veela and a proud one at that and she didn't have the time to invest to change people's thoughts about what she was, nor did she care to. If she was judged by what blood ran through her veins, then those doing so were not worth the wasted breath in trying to correct them.
A gentle tapping on her door interrupted her musings. Opening it, she came face to face with the two girls she interacted with on any level, Fae and Marie, cousins from her father's side of the family. She liked them well enough. They had never passed comment about what she was having grown up with her and being aware from a young age about her veela heritage.
" Madame Maxime says we will arrive in a few minutes," Fae informed her.
Fleur nodded as she went to fetch her shawl. She had been warned that Scotland was a cold country at this time of year so had prepared accordingly.
" Have you decided if you are going to enter your name?"
" I'm going to," she replied with a nod, "Just being a champion will give me opportunities."
Fae snorted.
" I think you will win," she offered sincerely.
Fleur gave her a warm smile. Fae didn't say things she didn't mean. Her bluntness was one of the things she appreciated about the girl.
" I think so too," Marie assured her. "You've got more of a chance than anyone else here."
" Thank you, but I have to be selected first. It could be either of you."
And it very well could be. Although Fleur was excellent with charms, Marie and Fae both had their own areas of strength. The former was very proficient in runes and enchanting and the latter in transfiguration.
" WE ARE NOW ARRIVING AT HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY. PLEASE ENSURE THAT YOUR UNIFORM IS WORN AS EXPECTED."
The announcement spurred the three into checking that their dresses were correct before the carriage touched down with a gentle bump. As the door opened, they were met with their first gust of chilly wind and a what appeared to be every student of the school dressed in black with various coloured markings on their robes.
As Fleur exited, her eyes drifted up towards the castle. It didn't hold the show the same grandeur as the palace, but it was pleasing in its' own way, if a little dreary for her liking.
The twenty-seven students that had been chosen for the trip followed the headmistress and three other instructors as they made their way towards a rather eccentrically dressed, older man with a long white beard.
" Dumbledore," Fae whispered.
Fleur had heard of the man, doubted that there were very few in the wizarding world that had not. Not only had he defeated Grindelwald, bringing an end to his regime, he had contributed to studies in Alchemy, Transfiguration and as one of very few people known to have a phoenix for a familiar.
"Madame Maxime," he greeted the headmistress with a bow, "we are truly honoured to have yourself and your students joining us for this year. Please, head inside, I understand that it is colder here than you are accustomed to."
"Thank you, Dumbledore," the woman returned in accented English, ignoring the looks of wonderment from the Hogwarts students at her abnormally tall frame.
After a final bow from the man, Fleur followed her fellow students and entered the castle, enjoying the warmth as it washed over her. They were guided into a large hall with four tables and they took seats at one of the two in the middle.
What do you think?" Marie asked.
" It's different," Fleur commented, "It's nothing like Beauxbatons."
" I like it," Fae interjected. "It is rustic."
Fleur rolled her eyes at the girl.
" I do not like it very much," Stephan grumbled.
" You don't like anything that doesn't have your family name on it," Fae returned.
Stephan was the most unlikable boy at the school and complained about everything. It bothered Fleur that he was considered to be a brilliant duellist because of how cocky the reputation made him. He had no redeeming qualities other than the gold his family had accumulated.
" I could always give you my family name," he offered before shaking his head, "but then again, we only handle quality goods."
Marie had to hold the other girl in her seat to prevent her lashing out. It would not do well to make a scene so soon after they arrived. As such, Madame Maxime shot them a glare of warning as the hall began to fill up around them with both students from Hogwarts and Durmstrang who looked as though they had dressed for war.
" They are trying to intimidate the rest of us," Marie muttered.
Fleur couldn't help but agree as those donned in red military jackets sat amongst those with green trimming on their black robes whilst the Beauxbatons were joined by students sporting blue.
Immediately, she felt dozens of pairs of eyes on her and she shrunk into her seat as best she could. It was like this at her own school and had been since her third year. Thankfully, Dumbledore began to address the room before she became too uncomfortable.
"I would like to begin by welcoming the staff and students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and thank them for joining us here for the duration of the Triwizard tournament." A gentle round of applause sounded before he held up his hands for silence once more. "After the feast, there will be further announcements and the opportunity for our visitors to be taken on a tour of the castle so that you may become more familiar with it. Please, feel free to ask any students or staff questions you may have. I am certain they will be most happy to help."
With a clap of his hands, the tables filled with platters of food and the man took his seat at the centre of the head table.
" You wouldn't think that he defeated Grindelwald," Fae commented. "He seems too nice to fight anyone."
Fleur nodded her agreement, doing her best to ignore the stares of those around her. She always made a point to minimise her allure, particularly around strangers. Here, it seemed to help little.
She helped herself to some of the French offerings on the table, the English food much heavier than what she was used to.
"What are you staring at, Boot?" a male voice spoke, heard easily through the almost silent section of the table she was seated at.
She glanced upwards and found a boy with dark hair staring at her dumbly as another frowned at him. The other boys' eyes widened as he realised she was looking, and he gaped in her direction. The frowning boy turned to her also, his emerald eyes questioning and widening slightly before the frown returned and he slapped his friend on the back of the head.
"Bloody hell, Terry, if a beautiful girl is making you dribble like an infant you really are in trouble."
The boy now known as Terry shook himself and whispered to the other. She couldn't hear all what was said but the word 'Veela' was used.
The one with the penetrating green eyes looked at her once more and shrugged.
"Well, it's rude to stare and you're putting me off my food."
"It's not just me," Terry defended.
The other boy looked at those around them unimpressively as he coughed loudly, none paying attention to the sound. With a muttered curse, he flicked his wand and several goblets around the table tipped, emptying their contents into the laps of those they had been placed in front of. Those on the receiving end shot to their feet in shock, garnering the attention of the teachers seated at the front of the hall.
Fleur raised an eyebrow at the display of magic. The boy was clearly younger than herself but had demonstrated exceptional control in his casting.
"Is there a problem over here?" a very small man asked as he approached.
"Not at all, professor," the green-eyed boy denied, "I think some of my housemates forgot themselves."
The man frowned at the students as he nodded, his eyes finding her briefly as he gave an apologetic smile before he beckoned the boy to join him.
"Who is that?" Fleur questioned a girl sitting close by who was seemingly making a sculpture out of potatoes.
"Oh, that's Harry," she answered almost dreamily. "He's really nice, but you probably won't see him much. No one does," she finished cryptically.
"Why not?"
"Harry d-doesn't like p-people," Terry stuttered. "He keeps away m-most of the t-time."
Harry returned with a scowl marring his features as he retook his seat.
"Thanks, Terry," he said sarcastically, "because of you, I have to show this lot around," he added, jerking a thumb in the direction of the French students.
"We do speak English, you know?" Fae broke in.
Harry shrugged uncaringly.
"That's good. You'll probably need that here," he returned dryly.
Fae flared her nostrils at the boy who was unfazed by the gesture and continued eating.
Fleur watched him for a moment. He was quite a curious boy and seemed to be quite alert. His eyes darted around the room, often towards the staff table. He seemed rather uncomfortable in these surroundings, almost on edge. She followed his line of sight and could see that he was staring at the High-Master of Durmstrang in disdain. Perhaps they knew each other and had an unpleasant history. It mattered not to her and she shrugged indifferently before finishing her own meal.
Before long, the table was cleared, and Dumbledore stood once more.
"Now that we have been suitably fed and watered, it is time to explain how this year will be spent," he began. "As for the Triwizard tournament, only those of seventeen years old or above may submit their names."
A cacophony of disappointed groans could be heard at the revelation and the man waited for silence before he continued.
"The selection of the champions will be done by an unbiased third party, that being the Goblet of Fire. Mr. Filch, if you please."
Another, seemingly less pleasant man entered the hall pushing a large chest to the front and stepping away. With a wave of the headmaster's wand, it opened to reveal an intricate cup made of glass. With another gesture of his wand, the inside erupted with a blue flame and remained lit.
"To enter, you must write your name on a piece of parchment and place it in the goblet. Do so only if you have considered the implications. The tournament is not to be taken lightly. It is as dangerous as any wizarding competition, but to those that choose to, I wish you luck."
Whispering broke out at the ominous warning the man gave, but he remained his cheerful self, smiling at the students as though he had not just revealed that three would be in mortal peril in the coming months.
"Champions will be drawn tomorrow evening. Before we press on, I would like to introduce the final two judges of the tournament. Along with myself, Madame Maxime and High-Master Karkaroff, we Mr Ludo Bagman, the head of the department of magical sports and games and Mr Bartemius Crouch, head of the department of magical cooperation.
The men received a polite round of applause, the former more so than the latter. Bagman looked like an overgrown boy, his eyes alight with wonder. Crouch was the opposite. He did not appear at all happy to be here, his moustache twitching irritably as the clapping ensued.
"Now, moving on. Those of you visiting are welcome to attend any classes on offer here at Hogwarts. Timetables will be made available to you at breakfast in the morning and as an additional event, we will be holding a duelling tournament for any student in fourth year and above. This will also take place throughout the year. Champions can also sign up for this. There will be more information to due course. And finally, for the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, you will be asked to remain behind when the other students have been dismissed. You are to be given a tour around the castle and the grounds. Cassius Warrington of Slytherin house will show the Durmstrang Delegation around and Harry Potter from Ravenclaw will do the same for those from Beauxbatons."
Fleur turned sharply in the direction of the boy upon hearing his name. Even in France, the boy was famous, though he looked displeased by the sudden influx of attention he was receiving. Looking at him closely, she could see his scar just protruding through his hairline.
" Does he mean the Harry Potter?" Fae whispered.
" His scar is there," Fleur replied. "How many Harry Potter's can there be?"
"My name is exactly the same in French as it is in English," the boy pointed out irritably as the hall began to empty.
"So, it is you?"
"Murdered parents with only a scar to show for that night?" he bit back. "Yeah, that's me."
Fae's eyes widened as she stuttered an apology.
"Forget about it," Harry dismissed, "you're not the first and you won't be the last. How about we get this over with?"
He stood and left the hall, gesturing for them to follow.
" I didn't mean to," Fae said weakly.
" He'll get over it," Marie comforted.
They came upon him waiting impatiently just outside the hall.
"This is the Entrance Hall. There are the house point counters and the stairs over there lead to the dungeons," he explained pointing to the descending case. "I will take you there at the end. No doubt Warrington will be down there with the others. Come on, it's a big castle," he urged as he walked towards a staircase to his left with the group following him quickly to keep up.
"On the first floor, we have the Hospital Wing, the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the Muggle Studies Classroom and the History of Magic room," Harry explained. "Whatever you do, don't sneak around here. Moody will find you and if you startle him, you might well have need of the first room," he added as he led them towards a staircase that was moving of its' own accord.
"Here on the second floor, you'll mostly find offices and disused classrooms. There is however, one of the best bathrooms Hogwarts has to offer. If anyone has need of the facilities, girls can go in here and boys just a little further down," he informed them, indicating the two doors he had spoken of.
A few of the girls and boys peeled off to do so and Harry leaned up against the wall whilst he waited for them.
"Oh dear," he muttered. "Didn't I mention the ghost in the girls'?"
He almost looked amused as the screams started and he released a dramatic sigh.
"Wait here," he instructed them as he drew his and pushed the door open. "Myrtle, we don't scare guests. Now that wasn't very nice," he chastised as the sound of sloshing water and wailing could be heard.
The door opened shortly after and Harry emerged with a group of sodden and shaken girls.
"You have my apologies, ladies," he offered insincerely as he gave a wave of his wand, drying them off.
Fleur fought the grin that threatened to form as the boy did so, clearly having planned this part of the tour and taking rather a lot of enjoyment from it.
"Are there any other ghosts we should be aware of, 'Arry?" she asked.
"Several," the boy replied, "none like myrtle, but I would watch out for Peeves. He's a poltergeist and will do what he can to upset you."
"A poltergeist?" Marie questioned.
"He turns up occasionally," Harry shrugged as he began walking towards another set of ascending stairs.
"You did that on purpose, 'Arry," Fleur whispered, narrowing her eyes at the boy, though she could not hide her amusement.
Harry shrugged.
"Well, I wanted to get something out of this," he muttered.
"Why do it if you don't want to?" she asked, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow at him.
"The boy who was supposed to couldn't keep his eyes off you. Would have been a bad tour if he kept walking into walls and drooling. Flitwick thought it was best I do it and he blackmailed me."
"He blackmailed you?"
Harry nodded.
"He said that if I give you lot the tour, he'll let me off homework for the year."
"A whole year?"
"He said a month, but I haggled with him."
Fleur snorted slightly. It was strange to meet a male so young able to keep his composure around her. She had never come across a teen that didn't turn into a drooling mess. Her mother had explained that hormonal boys were the worst and that they developed better resistance when they matured. From her own experience, she was correct. Men would often stare but not lose themselves from her passive allure the same way younger ones did. It was a nice change.
"What do you know about veela?" she asked curiously.
"Not much," he answered honestly, "I know not to get on the wrong side of them. Angry bird ladies that throw fire around aren't an enemy I want," he finished with a smirk.
Fleur was taken aback by his candid answer and she paused in her steps. If she did not see the glint in his eye, she may have even been offended.
"Then do not upset me, 'Arry," she returned sweetly, sticking her nose up in the air.
He shook his head at her as he led them up another flight of stairs.
" Why are you flirting with him?" Fae asked.
" I was not," Fleur denied hotly. "He is young, closer to Gabrielle's age."
" He is good looking," Marie broke in.
Fleur frowned. She hadn't paid much attention to how he looked other than taking note of his eyes. He certainly wasn't bad looking, but he was at least two years younger than herself.
" How old is he anyway?" Fae pressed.
" Fourteen, I think," Marie answered.
Fleur ignored the pair as she continued to follow the boy who had come to a halt in the corridor just off the staircase.
"Up here, we have more disused classrooms on that side and the trophy room just here. On the other side is where you will find the Charms classroom and Professor Flitwick's office," he informed them as he approached another one of the seemingly endless in number staircases.
"On this floor, we have the library and not much else. There are a few nice places you can study down there that stay quiet," he added, pointing to a row of windows.
The rest of the tour continued in the same vain. He led them through the rest of the upper floors of the castle, explaining what classrooms were on each floor and any other places of interest. The inside portion of the tour ended in the dungeons that were as gloomy as one would expect from rooms that likely once held prisoners.
With the tour of the castle complete, he led them on to the grounds and towards the carriage they would be staying in for the duration.
"You'll want to use warming charms when you are out here," he advised. "Over there is the lake. There is a giant squid in there, but he's alright if you give him some food. The Herbology greenhouses are a little bit at the back of your carriage and the Forbidden Forest is over there," he sighed, pointing to a mass of trees in the distance. "Don't wander off into there, I don't think anyone knows all the creatures you could bump into, but there are acromantula and centaurs. Any questions?" he finished as they reached the carriage.
One of the girls raised her hand.
"Do you really live in a castle and hunt vampires?"
Fleur shook her head in disbelief.
"No. I was raised by muggles," Harry huffed. "Believe me, vampires would have been preferable. Anyone else?"
"How did you kill You-know-who?" Stephan asked.
"And that is the end of the questions," Harry snapped irritably. "I hope you enjoy your stay."
With his final words said, he stalked away from them, muttering under his breath.
" Well done, idiot," Fae growled. "Why would you mention that?"
Stephan grinned as he entered the carriage.
Fleur could only shake her head at the boy. He was always unpleasant, but he shouldn't have asked that.
She too entered the carriage and then her room. It had been a long day and she felt the fatigue starting to overcome her. Hogwarts wasn't as bad as she was expecting it to be. There was the staring, but it had been dealt with for this evening at the very least, thanks to Harry.
He was a rather strange person from what she had observed. He didn't tolerate rudeness and he clearly did not like being around people very much. He had been polite himself, for the most part and had not been fazed by her much at all.
It had been a strange experience but a welcome one, nonetheless.
Her thoughts turned towards the impending selection of the champions that would take place the very next evening. She would submit her name in the morning and hope for the best, hope that she was chosen above any other at her school. She would do well in the tournament, that she was sure of.
She just needed to be given the opportunity to prove it.
(BREAK)
" You're distracted," Tom broke into his thoughts.
Harry nodded as he put down his carving tool and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He couldn't deny it and his experience of the French students had left him rather irritated. He understood people took an interest in him, but it was not something he'd had to deal with for some time. Those at Hogwarts just saw him as 'Harry' for the most part, the quiet boy that kept himself to himself. He simply had not expected the blunt questioning.
"It's that time of year," he replied.
" Halloween," Tom clarified. "Well, forget about your runic work. You can't complete in when you are not focused. Why don't you ask Flitwick about going to Godric's Hollow? I'm sure he wouldn't begrudge you the opportunity."
Harry checked his watch. Flitwick's office would still be open for another fifteen minutes. He nodded as he stood, the need to get away from the castle for a while deciding his course of action.
With a wave of his wand, he packed a few things into a bag and made his way through the tower, pointedly ignoring his housemates as he exited the common room. He arrived at the office of the charms professor and knocked.
"Come in," the man squeaked after a moment's pause.
Harry pushed the door open to the familiar space. It was often he came here but he remembered it well enough.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"
"I'm just letting you know, professor, that I'm going to be away from the castle for the next day or so," Harry answered.
"Whatever for?" Flitwick asked.
"I just need some time," the teen sighed. "It's Halloween tomorrow and I want to go and visit my parents. I've never been before."
Flitwick gave him a sad smile of understanding.
"I can't give you permission to leave, Harry. However, I can forget that this conversation happened. Do you have somewhere to stay for a couple of nights?"
"I will stay at the Leakey Cauldron. I can get the Knight Bus there and I will make sure I'm back first thing Wednesday morning."
"Very well. I believe you have a busy day ahead of you so it is unlikely I will see you before Wednesday."
Harry gave the man a nod of gratitude as he took his leave, slipping his cloak on as he made his way up to the fifth floor. Reaching the statue of the one-eyed witch, he tapped it with his wand.
" Dissendium," he muttered.
The opening formed and he worked his way through the tunnel until he reached the trap door. Concentrating, he thought of the arrival point of Diagon Alley, turned on the spot and vanished with a crack.
" We will work on making it quieter," Tom assured him as they arrived.
Harry nodded, ignoring the sickness that had overcome him in favour of the feeling of relief he felt at being away from the castle.
(BREAK)
Fleur entered the Great Hall the next morning with the rest of the Beauxbatons entourage, all of whom would be submitting their names for consideration to the Goblet of Fire.
It ended up being a rather anticlimactic affair with the cup merely acknowledging the name of each prospective champion with a burst of blue flames. With her name added into the mix, she took a seat at the same table she had the previous night for breakfast.
" You should be used to ignoring them by now," Marie whispered a few minutes into the meal.
Fleur shrugged in response. She was accustomed to the staring, but it always made her feel uncomfortable. Part of her wished Harry was here to spill juice on his housemates again.
"He won't come," a voice broke into her thoughts.
It was the same blonde from the night before with the eerie voice. Instead of creating a sculpture from potatoes, she was arranging chunks of melon on her plate. Her tongue was stuck comically out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated.
"Excuse me?" Fleur questioned.
"Harry. He won't come," the girl reiterated, "especially not today. He's with his parents."
Fleur frowned in confusion as she shared a look with Marie and Fae who shook their heads.
"Aren't his parents…?"
"Oh, yes, but he's gone to them for the first time," the girl interrupted. "I'm glad. It might make him less sad," she finished as stood from the table and skipped from the hall.
"What a strange girl," Fleur commented.
"That's Loony for you," an Asian girl interrupted, staring at the retreating girls' back with distaste.
"Loony?"
"We call her that because she's nuts."
"Not when Harry's here you don't," Terry snorted from further down the table. "I thought you lot would have learned from last year."
"What happened last year?" Fleur asked as the Asian flushed.
Terry turned bright red as the girl questioned him.
"W-well, Harry caught them all picking on her in the common room. He put Davis over there in the Hospital Wing. Twice," he explained. "The rest of the house don't mess with Luna anymore."
"Harry did that?"
Terry nodded.
"He's quiet. I live with the guy and barely see him outside of class, but you don't want to get on the wrong side of him. In second year, we had a duelling club for a bit. Some sixth year at the time tried to get heavy with him and Harry put him in his place. If he enters the duelling this year, my galleons will be on him."
"A fourth year?" Fae interjected.
"He's bloody good with his wand," Terry shrugged as he turned his attention back to his own breakfast.
Fleur nodded thoughtfully.
From what she had seen of him so far, she wouldn't disagree. The control he had demonstrated at the table and the silent, mass drying charm would indicate truth in what Boot had said.
"So, he doesn't spend time with people? What does he do?" Marie asked.
Terry shrugged.
"I get on with him, have done since first year, but he doesn't socialise with us. We call him the lone raven. Harry doesn't have friends for some reason. He talks to a few of us but that's it. None of us know what he gets up to."
Fleur frowned at the explanation.
" Maybe he has friends outside of here," Fae offered.
" Or he thinks people only want to be his friend for his fame," Marie added.
Fleur couldn't be certain, but Harry Potter was turning out to be quite the enigma. He certainly was not what she would have expected from the-boy-who-lived and a far cry from the boy in the stories her sister enjoyed. He may be perhaps a little chivalrous, but he certainly didn't seem to live a life of luxury, not from the small amount that had been gleaned about him last night.
She shook her head. If he wasn't around much, then she was unlikely to understand the mystery that was Harry Potter.
She put the thoughts of the boy to the back of her mind. She needed to focus on the selection of the champions that would be taking place this evening. She deserved the opportunity; she had worked harder than any of her peers since she started school.
Once again, she found herself hoping that the Goblet would recognise this. She didn't know exactly how the artefact worked, but surely it must be able to make an accurate judgement of who deserves the spot?
(BREAK)
Harry looked up at the small cottage where he had spent the first part of his life, the words of the memorial left behind doing little to soothe his racing mind. It was here it had happened, here that Voldemort too it upon himself to end the lives of his parents and doom Harry to one of misery.
Ignoring the memorial, he pushed open the gate and walked the same path the man had done that fateful night, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. The front door clicked open at his touch and he entered the home to find much of it in disrepair, partly from the violent confrontation, partly from being left to seemingly rot.
Broken pieces of furniture were strewn across the floor, covered by a thick layer of dust. None had set foot here in many years, the last likely to be the aurors that investigated what happened, or perhaps those that had taken the bodies of his parents.
He swallowed deeply as he walked around the lower level finding nothing salvageable nor worth holding on to. As he stepped through what was once a living room, something cracked underfoot, and he frowned as he retrieved a broken picture frame. Shaking away the broken glass, he found himself staring at an image of two people with their foreheads pressed together, each of their lips on the cheek of a baby.
An unwitting tear broke free as he looked upon his parents for the first time, the resemblance between himself and the man similar in many ways, though he had clearly inherited the eyes of his mother.
" It's okay to be upset, Harry," Tom comforted.
Harry nodded as he wiped away another errant tear. It had always been easy to not think of them growing up. Petunia had forbidden any mention of them and by the time he had gone to Hogwarts, he was used to not thinking of them, wondering what kind of people they were or what they looked like. For his whole life, he had been detached from what had happened to them, had likely become someone he shouldn't have been because of it.
Now, he pondered the person he would be had they lived, had he been raised by the people he saw in that photo. It would be something he would have to lament. He was not what he imagined his parents would want in a son. He was cold unlike the warmth they exuded.
He wiped away a layer of dust from a mirror that had somehow survived the passing years and looked at himself. He could see shades of them both; the jawline and messy hair of his father, the more delicate nose of his mother and her own eyes as his own. Hers, however, were filled with love and kindness, and his, devoid of it. His were as vibrant as hers but lacked that happiness, his were empty in comparison. Was he unhappy? In many ways, he knew that he was. His life had been one trying experience after another. There had been no chance to experience joy for him.
He sighed as he pocketed the photo trying to remember one thing about them other than the pleading of his mother as she begged for his life. That memory no longer frightened him as it once had, it provoked a different emotion entirely.
He swept from the room and up the stairs to face the demon that had always taunted him, the laughter that had rung out in his dreams as his mother fell in front of her helpless son.
The room he found himself staring into was the worst in the house. A cot he had once slept in lay in pieces on the floor and the ceiling with a large hole punched all the way through, the evening sky visible from his place in the doorway.
It was here that Voldemort had taken her life and here he had tried to take his also. For whatever reason, he had failed, is own body having been destroyed instead.
It was magic that made that happen. He didn't understand how or why, but he had no doubt. Magic had spared him that night. But why?
" Magic is something we will never truly understand. It works in ways that we cannot comprehend," Tom broke in.
Harry could only nod as he left the home, no longer wishing to be within the walls that now housed only misery and loss.
He cast a warming charm on himself as the chill of night brushed against his cheeks. Winter was well and truly on its' way and he imagined these streets would be blanketed with snow in the coming months.
He began walking slowly towards the church he had seen upon his arrival on the Knight Bus. He had never been here before and did not want to apparate blindly into the unknown. The journey had been as unpleasant as the first, and he again vowed to never use it unless it was necessary.
He pushed open the kissing gates as he passed a few revellers indulging in the festivities of the evening and walked through the churchyard and into where the residents of the village would eventually be laid to rest.
It took him some time to locate the graves he sought, but he found them eventually, the final stop of his journey chilling him more than the October night.
"James and Lily Potter," he whispered. "They were barely twenty-one."
He could only stare at the names of them, the sight of the grounds they rested in burning into his memory just as vividly as the green flash of light that had plagued him for as long as he could remember. He felt it once more, that stab of fury that had once been terror flowing through his veins, the icy fear now an inferno of rage.
"I want him dead, Tom."
" He will be. I promise."
"I don't just want him to die, I want him to suffer. Does that make me a bad person?" he asked, unsure if it was himself he was questioning, Tom or the parents he stood before.
" No, Harry, it does not. It makes you human. You care about what happened to them. You care about what could have been and you care about all you have endured because of it. Were you a lesser person, you would not have made it to where you are now. You are strong, Harry, stronger than anyone knows."
"Because I have to be," Harry whispered. "To keep going I have to be, and for them," he added, nodding towards the resting place of his parents.
" For them," Tom agreed.
He didn't know how long he stood there lost in his thoughts, but they were intruded upon by the sound of light footsteps approaching.
"Hello, professor," Harry greeted the diminutive man.
"Harry," Flitwick returned. "I hate to interrupt but I need you to return to the castle. Something rather serious has happened."
Harry frowned as he turned to face him, his visage pale and grave.
"What's happened?"
The professor released a deep breath.
"There's no easy way of saying this, but your name has come out of the Goblet of Fire. You have been chosen as a champion."
"I didn't put my name in," Harry defended.
"I did not believe for one second you did," Flitwick responded. "It has caused quite the stir and your presence is required."
"And there it is," the teen muttered.
"There what is?"
"The part of my school, year where things go wrong," Harry replied before vanishing with a crack leaving behind a very bemused head of house.
(BREAK)
"There is no way around it, Albus, the boy will have to compete," Crouch grumbled as he entered the antechamber with the three headmasters, Ludo Bagman and an assortment of Hogwarts staff members.
"Surely there is a way out. It was stipulated in the rules that no student underage could take part," Professor McGonagall retorted.
"A measure put in place for safety reasons. His name has been selected, he must compete," Crouch returned unwaveringly.
"I think it best we wait for him to arrive," Dumbledore sighed. "It would be most out of character for him to enter himself."
"I agree, headmaster. Potter is very unlike his father and would not do so. He would sooner leave this castle permanently," Professor Snape interjected.
Fleur could only watch the back and forth between the organisers and staff in confusion, wondering what exactly they were discussing.
"I apologise for the delay," Dumbledore greeted the three chosen champions. There has been a rather unexpected development."
"What has happened?" Cedric Diggory, the Hogwarts champion asked.
"Another name has been chosen by the goblet. We are waiting for his arrival as we speak."
"Potter?" Diggory questioned, surprised by the revelation.
"It would appear so."
"The boy entered himself, Dumbledore. I want him punished for sabotaging the tournament," Karkaroff insisted.
It was the laughter of Alastor Moody that met the demand.
"Punished? For what, Karkaroff?"
"The boy clearly entered 'imself," Madame Maxime broke in angrily. "He is hoping that 'Ogwarts gets two chances to win."
"'Arry is in the tournament?" Fleur probed.
Madame Maxime nodded severely.
She found herself in a state of shock. The tournament was a dangerous thing to be a part of and she couldn't imagine it being something Harry would want to be included in, not from what she had learnt about him since she arrived.
A strained silence fell amongst those within the room, all seemingly lost in their own thoughts. The only person that did not seem disturbed by the development was Crouch, who remained as grim as ever.
Fleur didn't know what to think. A myriad of thoughts whirled through her mind whilst she waited for Harry to arrive and explain himself.
(BREAK)
Harry stalked towards the castle, his temper flaring at the latest transgression against him. He couldn't imagine experiencing anything worse than the murder scene of his parents, but he had been proven wrong. Yet again on Halloween, something had happened to throw his life in turmoil. Last year it had been the appearance of Sirius that had led to him combating a werewolf, the year before the chamber and the year before that, the troll incident that had culminated in a fight for his life with Voldemort.
" Be calm, Harry. We do not know the implications of this."
"It means that I will have to compete. Life isn't kind enough for it to be any other way."
A gentle popping from behind him announced the arrival of Professor Flitwick who hurried to catch him.
"Harry, I do not know what will happen, but I will support you as best I can," the man assured him.
Harry offered him a nod of gratitude as he entered the grounds.
"I will take you to where the other champions are," Flitwick declared as he walked head, surprising Harry with the speed with which he moved.
He followed the professor through the entrance hall and into the Great Hall where the eyes of the students within turned to him. Harry paid them no heed as he was escorted to the front of the room and through a door he had never seen. Inside, he found himself amongst a group consisting of the three heads of the schools, Crouch, Bagman, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape with Mad-eye Moody completing the group.
"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore greeted. "Has Professor Flitwick explained to you what has transpired?"
"He has," the teen confirmed.
"I must ask. Did you put your name in the goblet?"
Harry shook his head.
"Of course, he is lying," Karkaroff huffed, throwing his arms in the air dramatically.
Harry narrowed his eyes at him.
" Deal with him," Tom demanded.
"I will not be judged by a Death Eater," Harry hissed, "and certainly not a cowardly one like you."
The room froze at his unexpected outburst, the silence eventually broken by a barking laugh courtesy of Moody.
"Such a big man, Karkaroff, turning on your mates the first chance you get to save your own worthless life. Oh, I know all about you. You're nothing but a snivelling, bootlicking shit."
"Harry!" Dumbledore chastised.
"Go ahead, Karkaroff," Harry continued, ignoring the headmaster. "Let's see if you've got the balls to finish what your master couldn't do."
"Potter stop this madness," McGonagall demanded.
Harry snorted at the man.
"Pathetic," he mumbled before turning away. "I did not enter my name. I left the castle last night and have just returned. If you don't want to believe me, then that's fine."
"I don't believe you entered yourself," Flitwick reiterated.
"No one here truly believes you did," Snape added. "They would be foolish to."
"So, what now?"
"You must compete," Crouch answered. "It states clearly that any name drawn from the goblet must take part."
"But I didn't submit my name," Harry growled.
"No, but you must have written it on the piece of parchment," Dumbledore broke in as he held it out to the teen.
Harry took it and recognised his handwriting immediately. Where it came from, he didn't know. He had written his name on dozens of pieces of parchment since he had enrolled at the school.
"And what if I refuse?"
Dumbledore sighed at the question.
"The penalty would be decided by the goblet as the creator and enforcer of the magical contract. It could range from a mild sickness to loss of your magic."
Harry nodded his understanding.
"Fine," he conceded, unwilling to risk such a thing.
Dumbledore gestured for Crouch to explain the details of the first task the champions would face.
"Your first challenge will take place on the twenty-third of November. It has been designed to test your courage and response to an unknown danger. You will only be allowed your wand and any protective clothing you choose to wear. That is all," he finished lamely.
Harry took his leave immediately, not wanting to spend any longer in such close proximity to Karkaroff lest he could no longer fight the urge to curse the man.
"What do we do, Tom?" he whispered worriedly as he left the now empty Great Hall.
" We win, Harry. We do whatever it takes to emerge victorious as we always have."
Harry nodded determinedly.
" First, we take a trip into the chamber and then to the alley. I have an idea that can only benefit you. It is one I believe is long overdue."
Fleur watched the retreating form of the younger boy as he left the room, his furious outburst towards the Durmstrang High-Master explaining the look of loathing he had given the man.
" Come, Fleur," Madame Maxime instructed.
She followed the large woman from the room and out onto the grounds of the school.
" This changes things," Madame Maxime sighed. "With another champion, it lessens your chance of winning."
" He is only fourteen," Fleur pointed out.
" Age means nothing, you silly girl," the woman snapped as she came to a stop. "You cannot ignore that he survived a curse that has put an end to every other person that has encountered it nor how confidently he stood up to Igor."
" One of his housemates said the same," Fleur muttered.
Madame Maxime nodded thoughtfully.
" I will learn all I can of him. For now, it would be foolish to underestimate him."
Fleur nodded her understanding. She didn't know what was going on or how Harry's name ended up being selected, but ultimately, it didn't matter. She didn't believe he had submitted it himself and that concerned her. It meant that something else was afoot.
She glanced back towards the castle, a sad smile gracing her lips. She was worried for him in a way. The tournament was not designed for someone as young as him, was as dangerous as anything one could face.
She just hoped that he was as able as Terry had said. Although she would be competing against him, she didn't want him to get hurt.