Chapter 18
Sirius stood in the middle of the Hogwarts trophy room, arms folded over his chest as Frank examined the Goblet of Fire. It irritated him that he could only stand and watch, but he had never been any great shakes at enchanting. He could only stare as Frank muttered incantations under his breath, causing multi-colored arcs of light to pulse from the ancient stone goblet.
After he checked his watch for the twelfth time in fifteen minutes, the door opened. Alastor Moody limped into the room, his wooden leg landing with a thunk every step he took while his fake eye spun in its socket. Amelia Bones trailed in after him, her auburn hair tied back in a tight bun and a monocle over her left eye.
Sirius relaxed his arms even as his nerves skyrocketed. He'd known both of them for years – worked with them on a number of cases – before fleeing Britain for America. He wasn't sure how they would react to seeing him again, especially under the circumstances.
"Black," Moody nodded as he stopped and leaned on his staff. "Good to see you in one piece."
"You too," Sirius smirked. "Unless you lost another body part while I was gone."
"No one's gotten that lucky yet," Moody replied.
Snorting, Sirius turned and gave Amelia his most charming smile.
"Amelia, you're looking as beautiful as ever," he said.
"Agent Black," Amelia nodded. "I've been asked by the Minister to offer our humblest apologies for this unforeseen complication."
"And did Fudge ask you to relay that before or after the president ripped him a new one for suggesting Harry somehow entered his own name?" Sirius asked.
The corners of Amelia's lips twitch the slightest amount.
"After," she replied with an amused lilt to her voice. "He also tasked me, personally, to oversee the investigation."
Sirius arched an eyebrow, "Really? That must have been one hell of an ass-chewing Fudge got."
"Officially, the Ministry is determined to get to the bottom of this," Amelia said.
"Unofficially, Fudge is shitting himself," Moody huffed. "Between Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup and this cock up, the whole Ministry looks incompetent."
"Have either of you found anything?" Sirius asked, tilting his head toward the Goblet.
"Other than the fact Crouch is an idiot for using the Goblet in the first place?" Moody grumbled. "We know whoever entered Potter's name used a powerful Confundus Charm. They tricked the Goblet into forgetting about Ilvermorny and submitted his name as the only entrant from a different school. They made certain he'd be chosen."
"I concur," Frank said, lowering his wand and joining them.
"Amelia, Alastor, this is my partner, Frank Rapaport," Sirius said by way of introduction. "Did you figure out if Harry's magic is at risk?"
"It's doubtful but still possible," Frank replied. "The underlying enchantments are so old it's hard to determine if they were affected by the Confundus Charm."
"That's what our Unspeakables thought as well," Amelia nodded.
Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Do you have any idea who's behind this?" he asked.
"Not yet," Amelia replied.
"It had to be someone inside the castle when the names were being entered," Moody said. "My bet is they're still here. Most likely one of the older students or someone on the staff."
"Great," Sirius muttered.
"Our job isn't meant to be easy, lad," Moody muttered. "Come on, we can discuss where to get started over at the Three Broomsticks. You still owe me a drink for saving your arse back in eighty-two."
Sirius let out a bark of laughter.
"I forgot about that," he smiled as they all headed toward the door.
Meanwhile, on the Ilvermorny Express, Harry followed Professor Turner down the aisle. The train had been heavily modified by charms, making it much more spacious on the inside than it looked from the outside. The normally open cars were now closed off and held four rooms on either side, each of which housed two students.
"As Champion, you'll have a room to yourself at the back of the train," Professor Turner said. "If you find Hogwarts lacks any resources you may need, let me know, and I'll do what I can to get them. There's also a Floo in my car if you need to talk with any of your professors."
"Thanks, professor," Harry smiled. "Do you have any idea what the tasks will be?"
"The organizers will give you that information," she replied. "I'm afraid I can't give you any specifics. You'll also be required to attend the Weighing of the Wands ceremony the day after tomorrow and the Yule Ball on Christmas."
"Alright," Harry nodded.
As they reached the end of the final car and stopped in front of the door, Professor Turner turned to him with a serious look.
"Mr. Potter, I know you didn't choose to enter this Tournament, but I have the utmost confidence you will do your school proud," she said, patting his arm. "You're one of the most gifted students I've ever had the pleasure of seeing come through Ilvermorny. Just… try and keep the destruction to a minimum."
"I'll do my best," Harry grinned.
Professor Turner sighed, "I suppose that's the best I can hope for," she smiled.
Grabbing the doorknob, she gave it a twist and pushed open the door. They both paused and watched amusedly as Dora, who didn't realize they were there, struggled to push her trunk in line with Harry's at the end of the bed. When she finally got it into place, she let out a sigh, wiped the sweat from her brow, and sat down on the trunk.
"Oh, hello," Dora smiled, waving brightly.
"Good evening," Professor Turner said before turning to Harry. "I take it you don't have any objection to Ms. Tonks' presence?"
"No, ma'am," Harry grinned.
"Then I'll leave you to get settled," she replied. "My car is at the front if you need anything."
Patting his arm, she turned and headed back toward the front of the train while Harry stepped inside his new room and closed the door behind him. Dora stood with a grin on her face, sauntered up to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck while Harry rested his hands on her hips.
"What do you think of the room?" Harry asked.
"It's not as nice as having an entire dorm all to ourselves, but it'll do," Dora shrugged and smiled. "Want to go test out the bed?"
Grinning, Harry slid his hands around to her ass and lifted her off of the ground. Dora squealed and laughed as he carried her over to the bed and tossed her onto the mattress.
The next morning, Harry and Dora made their way to the Great Hall with the rest of their classmates. Jenna was quieter than usual, and Harry thought she was nervous about starting their first full day of classes at a new school. Just as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table, Professor McGonagall appeared behind them.
"Good morning," she said, handing him, Dora, and Jenna a sheaf of parchment. "These are your timetables. Ms. Tonks, your classmates should be able to show you where your classes are by now. However, if you require assistance, you can ask Mr. Telford or Ms. Jennings."
Professor McGonagall gestured a few seats down, where two seventh years sat. When they noticed Dora looking in their direction, they smiled and gave her a friendly wave.
"Ms. Granger," McGonagall called loudly, crooking her finger.
A girl about Harry's age with thick, bushy brown hair quickly stood from her seat and rushed over to the professor.
"Mr. Potter, this is Hermione Granger," McGonagall said. "Since you're in a different year than the rest of your classmates, I've asked Ms. Granger to show you around the castle. Her schedule is identical to yours. As a Triwizard Champion, you're also granted unrestricted access to the library. And even though our schools are competing, if you have any questions regarding magic, our professors will provide you with any assistance you require. Ms. McKinnon, I've asked Ms. Weasley to show you to your classes."
She pointed to a thin redhead who looked away quickly and blushed heavily, pretending she hadn't been watching the entire time the moment Harry and Jenna looked at her.
"Thanks, professor," Harry smiled.
"You're welcome, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall replied. "Now, if you don't have any further questions, I need to go prepare for class."
"Actually," Harry called, "I did have one. Professor Turner said I could skip class to prepare for the tournament, and it wouldn't affect my grade. Is that true?"
McGonagall's lips thinned as she regarded him.
"Yes, that's true," she said. "However, I would suggest that you attend as many classes as you are able. The grades you earn here will still be reflected in your record when you return to Ilvermorny."
"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said.
McGonagall stared at him suspiciously for a moment before she nodded and left the hall. Hermione watched her leave and then glanced back at the table, looking unsure if she should stay or go.
"You can grab a seat," Harry offered, gesturing to the empty spot next to Jenna.
"Thank you," Hermione replied primly.
As if that was some sort of signal, several students descended on their section of the table and crowded into the seats directly across from them.
"Hi, Fred Weasley," A tall, gangly redhead said, extending his hand to shake Harry's. "This handsome bugger next to me is George."
The identical twin to his right grinned and waved.
"The ugly one next to him is Ron."
"Hey!" another redhead yelled indignantly.
"And one trying to hide in her cereal is Ginny," Fred finished with a smirk.
Ginny blushed again and tried to hide her face behind a curtain of copper-colored hair. A pretty blonde with a prominent bust flashed him a dazzling smile and tossed her long hair over her shoulder.
"I'm Lavender," she said.
Harry smiled politely and struggled to hold back a smirk when Dora scooted closer to him and wrapped her arm around his. He didn't need to look to know she was giving the girl a glare by the way Lavender's smile turned slightly nervous.
"I'm Parvati," the Indian girl next to her jumped in. "And this is Dean, Seamus, and Neville."
"Pleasure," Harry smiled. "Are you the welcoming crew?"
"You could say that," George grinned.
"We're in your year in Gryffindor. Well, they're not," Lavender said, smiling prettily as she jerked a thumb toward the twins. "We just thought we'd come over and introduce ourselves."
"And to thank you for the way you handled Malfoy," Ron added with a grin. "That was brilliant! I've wanted to hit that git for years."
Everyone around him nodded while Hermione pursed her lips disapprovingly.
"Glad I could be of service," Harry grinned.
"We told McGonagall you should be given an award for services to the school, but she didn't seem to like the idea very much," Fred said.
"Looked right miffed when we suggested it," George added.
"You might want to watch out for Professor Snape, though," Parvati said, glancing at the Head Table. "I don't think he'll be very happy with you."
"Oh, I know all about Snape," Harry smirked. "Probably more than he wants me to. My Godfather went to school with him."
As one, all of them leaned forward with interest sparkling in their eyes.
"Really now," Geroge said.
"Do tell," Fred smirked.
"Maybe later," Harry grinned. "We'll see if he can behave himself first."
Geroge scoffed loudly, "Fat chance of that."
"How come you have a weird accent?" Ron asked suddenly.
"What?" Harry blinked, tilting his head to the side curiously.
"You sound like an American," Ron said.
"Yeah…," Harry said, not sure where the redhead was going.
"But you were born in Britain," Ron said. "Shouldn't you sound, you know, British?"
Everyone looked at Ron like he was an idiot.
"Sorry about him," George said.
"We think Mum dropped him on his head when he was little," Fred whispered loudly.
"Oi!" Ron shouted.
"Accents aren't determined by where you're born," Hermione sighed. "They grew up in America. It's expected that they would sound American."
"Yeh daft git," Seamus said to Ron. "Did yeh expect him to sound like he's from Chippy Norton?"
"Speaking of accents, what the hell was that?" Harry asked, causing everyone but Seamus to snort with laughter. "I'm going to need a translator for that one."
"Oi!" Seamus yelled as the others laughed.
"I love the color of your hair," Parvati said to Dora. "Is it a charm or a potion?"
"Neither," Dora smirked. "This is all natural."
She shook her head, and her hair cycled through a rainbow of colors before settling back down on her preferred shade of purple.
"You're a Metamorphmagus!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Yep," Dora grinned.
"What's a Metamorphamajig?" Ron asked.
Harry nearly snorted pumpkin juice out of his nose at Ron's wording, and Dora snickered.
"It's just a big word for someone who can change their body at will," she explained.
Closing her eyes and scrunching up her face cutely, her nose flattened until it resembled a pig's. Just as the transformation finished, she covered her face and sneezed.
"Ugh, that one tickled my sinuses," she said.
When she uncovered her face, her nose was back to normal. Scrunching up her face again, Dora stuck out her tongue. The Gryffindors across from them watched in awe as it split in half, and she wiggled the tips before it sealed itself back together.
"Wicked," Fred and George said in unison.
"Can you change anything?" Seamus asked, his eyes glancing down at her chest.
Dora rolled her eyes, "Yes, but only Harry gets to see that."
"I wish I could do that," Lavender sighed wistfully.
"Yeah, it's pretty great," Dora smirked.
The light banter continued through the rest of breakfast until the bell rang. Gathering his bag, Harry slung it over his shoulder, gave Dora a kiss, and followed Hermione out of the hall.
"We only have Transfigurations and Charms before lunch," Hermione said. "Those are pretty easy to find. The Transfigurations classroom is on the second floor near the courtyard, and the Charms classroom is on the third floor. You just turn right, and it's at the end of the corridor."
"I feel like I need a map for this place," Harry said.
He spun as he spoke, taking in the meandering hallways and moving staircase.
"It's not that bad once you get used to it," Hermione assured him. "Didn't you have some trouble finding your way around Ilvermorny when you first got there?"
"A bit," Harry replied. "But this place seems like it was built to confuse people."
"It does feel like that sometimes," she admitted.
They reached the Transfigurations classroom and stepped inside. Half the desks were already occupied by students wearing yellow and black ties. Giving them a friendly wave when they looked up, Harry followed Hermione to the front of the class and sat at the same desk she did. The classroom filled up quickly as the rest of the Gryffindors entered and took their seats. Just as the bell rang, signaling the start of the lesson, McGonagall stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
"Good morning, class," she said, walking to the front of the room and standing with her hands folded in front of her. "Today, we'll be continuing our work on basic conjuring. Mr. Potter, have you started this at Ilvermorny?"
"Not yet," Harry replied. "Professor Banks had that planned for after Christmas break."
"Then you should be able to perform the spell," Professor McGonagall nodded. "If I go over something you haven't covered or don't understand, let me know, and I will set time aside to teach you. Now, you've all used specific spells to conjure specific items; however, today, we'll be using a universal conjuring spell Pario. This spell can be used to conjure a wide variety of objects, but remember, simple conjurations like these will only last a few hours at most. For today, we will be working on conjuring objects made of a single material, in this case, a wooden spool."
Professor McGonagall reached into her pocket, pulled out an empty spool of thread, and set it on her desk. Hermione sat up as straight as possible in her chair for a better look.
"You may begin," she said.
The sound of chairs scraping loudly filled the room as several students stood and walked to the front to examine the spool. Staying seated, Harry drew his wand and started lazily practicing the wand movement over his desk.
"Since you haven't studied this before, I think we should start by going over the theory," Hermione said. "The Pario spell was invented in 1432 by Juliette Blanchard. It uses a checkmark wand movement and is used to conjure simple objects made of only basic, natural materials such as wood, stone, and metal. It's important to focus on the-"
There was a soft pop and a puff of smoke as Harry attempted the spell. Before the smoke cleared, an empty spool fell onto his desk with a wooden thunk.
"Ha!" Harry cheered. "Got it."
"What?" Hermione gasped.
"Impressive," Professor McGonagall said as she approached their desk from behind, picked up the spool, and examined it closely. "I see you inherited your father's talent for Transfigurations."
Harry shrugged, "I do alright. I'm better at Charms."
McGonagall looked at him over the top of her wireframe glasses with a small smile and set the spool back down on the desk.
"A talent you share with your mother," she said softly.
"But you did even use the incantation," Hermione said, her brow furrowed in confusion.
Harry smiled and shrugged, "I used to steal my Godfather's wand as a kid, and it was easier to get away with it if I didn't shout incantations when I used it. Now, it's just easier for me not to use them most of the time."
Hermione narrowed her eyes in annoyance, and it very much reminded him of the way Michelle would glare at him when he showed off in class. When his only response was a grin, she huffed and turned away from him, drawing her wand.
"Very well, since you found this lesson so easy, perhaps you can try something harder," Professor McGonagall said.
Turning to her desk, she grabbed a sheaf of parchment and a quill and wrote something out quickly. A moment later, she put the quill back in its place and turned to set the parchment on the desk in front of him.
"Here's a list of objects I want you to try and conjure," she told him. "Let's see how many you can complete before the end of class."
Harry nodded as she turned away and glanced at the list.
Spool with thread
Metal thimble
Pincushion
Empty matchbox
Smiling to himself, Harry began trying to conjure each one. The spool with thread was simple, and he managed it on the first try, but the metal thimble gave him some trouble. It took half an hour and more than a dozen attempts before it had the proper shape and contours. When he finally got it right, he took a break to look over at Hermione.
"Pario," she said.
Her wand movement was perfect, but the spool that landed on her desk was lopsided and misshapen. With an angry huff, she swished her wand sharply.
"Evanesco," she said, causing it to vanish.
"Want some advice?" Harry asked.
Hermione turned to him sharply, almost angrily, and regarded him with suspicion. He thought for a moment that she was going to refuse his help, but after taking a deep breath, she nodded mutely.
"Pick an object in the room, any object," he told her.
Her eyes scanned the classroom for a moment before they landed on something behind Professor McGonagall's desk.
"Alright," she said.
"Your tongue knows what that feels like," Harry said.
Hermione turned to him with a bewildered expression on her face.
"What?" she asked incredulously.
Harry grinned, "It's true. Think about anything you've ever touched. Even if you haven't licked it, your tongue knows what it feels like."
Hermione furrowed her brow as she thought about his words before shaking her head.
"Okay, but how does that help with a spell?" she asked.
"Transfiguration is all about visualization, right?" he asked, receiving a nod in return. "Well, it's not just about what something looks like; you need to think about how it feels, too. The best way to do that is to imagine what it would be to lick it. Trust me. Give it a try."
Hermione gave him a dubious look and turned back to her desk. With a sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she tried the spell again.
"Pario," she said.
There was a familiar puff of smoke above the desk, and then a perfectly shaped wooden spool landed on her desk with a thunk.
"It worked!" she cheered, examining the spool closely. "I can't believe that actually worked."
"An unusual technique, but effective," Professor McGonagall said, appearing behind them. "Five points to Gryffindor, Ms. Granger. Why don't you share Mr. Potter's list and see how many you can complete before the end of class?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said with an excited smile.
Harry smiled at her enthusiasm and turned his attention back to his own work. It took him a couple of attempts to get the amount of stuffing in the pincushion right, and then he moved on to the matchbox. Once he'd finished with that, he watched Hermione silently for a while. Now that she had a better grasp of the spell, her conjurations came more quickly. By the end of class, she'd managed to conjure everything except the thimble.
"Well done, class," Professor McGonagall said, standing in front of her desk. "Next class, we'll be working on conjuring more complex objects. Continue to practice, and for homework, I want eight inches of parchment on the historical uses of the Pario spell."
Harry quickly gathered his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and joined the line to leave the classroom with Hermione. While they waited for the other students to file out of the room, McGonagall approached his desk and examined the objects left behind. When she picked up the matchbox to inspect the inside, she blinked in surprise. It was full of perfectly formed matches, complete with bright red tips. There was even a striking surface attached to the side of the box.
Looking up towards the door, she watched him slip from the classroom with a soft smile on her face.
Chapter 19
"Good morning, class," Professor Flitwick greeted.
The classroom full of fourth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws muttered a reply as Flitwick climbed the stack of books leading to his teaching platform.
"Now, then. Today, we will continue our review of the Banishing Charm," he said. "However, next week, we're going to move ahead a bit to basic enchanting. After all, it's not every day that we have a world-famous enchanter in our midst."
Smiling brightly, he nodded toward Harry.
"I prefer infamous," Harry grinned, causing the class to chuckle.
"I'm sure you are to some," Flitwick chuckled. "I heard the Firebolt Broom Company was quite upset you stole the crown for the world's fastest broom. Now, let's break into pairs and practice those Banishing Charms."
Waving his wand in an arc while wiggling the tip, he conjured dozens of cushions in various shapes, sizes, and colors that fell from the ceiling. The students laughed as they hopped out of their seats and tried to dodge out of the way.
"Do you want to partner up again?" Hermione asked.
"Sure," Harry shrugged.
Walking to the middle of the classroom, Hermione pointed her wand at a cushion sitting near her feet.
"Depulso," she called.
The cushion shot straight at Harry's chest, where he caught it easily with one hand.
"Nice," he said.
Tossing the cushion up in the air, he waited until it fell to chest height before wordlessly banishing it toward Hermione. She squealed and raised her arms as it lightly hit her.
"Can you teach me how to cast silently?" she asked, biting her lip cutely.
"It's not that hard," Harry said. "You just think the incantation instead of shouting it out loud. Here, give it a try."
"I just say it in my head?" Hermione asked. "That's it?"
"Yeah," Harry shrugged.
With a dubious look, she aimed her wand at the cushion. Her eyes narrowed in intense concentration, she jabbed her wand forward, but the cushion didn't move. With a silent huff, she tried again, and still, nothing happened.
"Come on, Hermione, it's easy," Harry said. "I learned this when I was eight."
Hermione directed a glare at him momentarily before turning her attention back to the cushion and jabbing her wand forward. The cushion slid a couple of inches across the floor, and he could see the mild success spark a fire in her eyes.
"Great jo-"
Hermione jabbed her wand forward again, and this time, the cushion shot away from her at high speed and hit him directly in the face. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands as his head snapped back and his glasses were knocked askew.
"I'm so sorry," she said quickly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Harry smiled. "I was trying to taunt you a bit, but I didn't think you get that angry."
Hermione blushed lightly, looking abashed. Chuckling, he flicked his wand, banishing another cushion that landed near her feet.
"How about a little competition?" Harry asked, causing her to perk up. "We banish our cushions at the same time. If you get the spell right, they stop each other. If you don't, you get hit in the face."
"How is that a competition?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.
"Well, if you're scared…," Harry said, leaving his sentence hanging.
She rolled her eyes, "Fine."
"On three," he grinned. "Ready? One… two… three!"
They both jabbed their wands forward and banished their cushions. Hermione's didn't have enough power, causing her cushion to fly under Harry's. It hit him lightly in the shins just as she raised her arms to block the cushion flying straight at her face.
"Close," Harry smirked. "But that's a point for me. Again?"
Hermione nodded determinedly. He counted to three again and they cast their charms. This time, they collided between them and fell to the floor.
"I did it!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Indeed," Flitwick said from behind Harry, startling him. "Excellently done! Ten points to Gryffindor! Mr. Potter, I regret we didn't think of a way to reward foreign students this year."
"That's alright," Harry smiled. "I usually lose more points than I gain, anyway."
"Yes, Professor Wilkinson did warn me about that," Flitwick grinned. "He specifically warned that I shouldn't let you get bored, and your little game with Ms. Granger has given me an idea. Class, if I can have everyone's attention!"
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to face the professor.
"Since Mr. Potter has shown such proficiency with the Banishing Charm, we're going to play a game to put his skills to the test," Flitwick announced. "All of you will banish your cushions at Mr. Potter. For each one that hits him, you'll earn your house a point. At the same time, Mr. Potter will try to banish them back at you. For each person he hits, you'll lose a point. That is if Mr. Potter is up for the challenge."
"Bring it on," Harry grinned, motioning with his hands toward the other students.
"Excellent!" Flitwick said enthusiastically. "You may begin in three…two… one… go!"
"DEPULSO!" the students shouted in unison.
Two dozen cushions took to the air. Fortunately, most of them missed their mark. Harry ducked out of the way of a group of three that sailed over his head. Quickly raising his wand, he banished one of the late arrivals back toward the group of students.
"That's a point from Ravenclaw, Mr. MacMillan!" Flitwick yelled.
Harry flashed Ernie a grin when he was suddenly hit in the side of the head by a cushion.
"Point for Gryffindor, Ms. Granger!" Flitwick shouted. "Well done!"
"Oh, now it's on," Harry grinned.
Hermione screamed and ducked out of the way as he banished three cushions at her in rapid succession. She managed to get out of the way in time, but the boy she hid behind, Ron, wasn't so lucky. One hit him in the chest, and another bounced off the top of his head.
"That's two points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley!" Flitwick yelled. "Banishing Charms only, Mr. Potter."
Harry grumbled as he dropped his Shield Charm and danced out of the way of another cushion. For the next ten minutes, cushions flew back and forth across the classroom. He got hit more times than he would have liked, but as far as points went, he thought they were pretty even.
"One more minute!" Flitwick called.
Harry was panting and sweaty but smiling as he rushed to the center of the classroom.
"Come on!" he taunted. "Give me your best shot!"
"DEPULSO!" the class shouted.
Grinning, Harry quickly dodged to the side, revealing Professor Flitwick behind him. The students gasped as the cascade of cushions barreled toward him. They got within a couple of feet of him when the professor suddenly waved his wand, and every cushion, even the ones still on the floor, changed direction and shot toward Harry. He had no hope of banishing that many and quickly found himself on the floor, buried under a pile of cushions.
"Cheater!" Harry yelled, his voice muffled.
The classroom burst into laughter.
"And that's time," Flitwick grinned. "I believe that's a total of two points for Gryffindor and one point for Ravenclaw. Excellently done! I'll let you all catch your breath for the last ten minutes. For next week, I want you all to read chapters twenty-three of your Charms book."
"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"I'm fine," he replied.
Pushing the cushions away from his face, he took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"That was fun but tiring," he smiled. "I think I'm going to take a nap here for a minute."
Hermione rolled her eyes as he laid back against the cushions and closed his eyes.
After lunch, Harry followed Hermione down to the dungeons to the Potions classroom. The dark, oppressive atmosphere made it feel like he was stepping into a completely different castle. As they stepped into the classroom and took their seats at one of the worktables, he noticed just how quiet everyone was being. It was like the Gryffindors were afraid to talk.
A couple of minutes before the start of class, the Slytherins arrived. They didn't seem to have the same reservations about talking loudly that the Gryffindors did. When Malfoy spotted Harry, he sneered at him with a glint of anticipation in his eyes.
As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, Snape swooped into the classroom, his cloak billowing behind him, and closed the door with a thunderous slam. In front of Harry, Neville flinched, his eyes downcast.
"Today, we'll be brewing the Shrinking Solution," Snape drawled, stopping in front of his desk. "Hopefully, your results won't be as abysmal as last week's Melancholy Draught. I expect you to be able to keep up with the work. No exceptions."
Giving Harry a pointed look, he turned and swiftly walked behind his desk.
"The instructions are on the board," he said, taking a seat and pulling a stack of parchment toward him. "Begin."
As Harry walked to the cabinet with Hermione to help her gather their ingredients, he glanced at Snape out of the corner of his eye. Given what Sirius had told him about the man, he was surprised he hadn't been singled out more. If being ignored was the worst Snape would do, he would return the favor.
Gathering the ingredients they needed, he returned to their table with Hermione and began brewing. Potions was one of Harry's worst subjects. He had no patience for the tedious process and often found his mind wandering between steps, leading to mistakes. Fortunately, Hermione was more focused, so he followed her lead.
Things were progressing nicely, if a bit too quietly for Harry's liking, when a dried newt's tail suddenly bounced off the side of their cauldron and landed on the table. Looking in the direction it had come from, he noticed Malfoy laughing with the two fat fucks he called friends.
"Just ignore him," Hermione whispered.
Harry narrowed his eyes at the suggestion and watched Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. Not even a minute later, he glanced toward Snape to make sure he wasn't looking and tossed another newt's tail in their direction. This one was aimed better and would have gone in if Harry hadn't slapped it out of the way. The scratching of Snape's quill paused, and he turned his head just enough to glance over without looking directly at them. A second later, he dipped his head back down over the parchment, and the scratching of his quill resumed.
Harry gritted his teeth in anger. Snape wasn't going to do anything directly to him, but apparently, he wasn't above letting his students do his dirty work for him.
"Sorry, but I think you'll have to finish this on your own," he whispered to Hermione.
Raising her head, she furrowed her brow and blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.
"What?" she asked. "Why?"
Before Harry could respond, Malfoy tossed another newt's tail at their cauldron. Snatching it out of the air, he turned and launched it as hard as he could. It landed in Malfoy's cauldron with a splash. A drop hit one of the fat kids' noses, causing it to shrink quickly. Meanwhile, the potion hissed and fizzed angrily around the floating newt's tail. Bright purple smoke billowed out of the cauldron, causing all three boys to cough, their voices steadily growing higher pitched.
"Potter!" Snape shouted, standing abruptly and vanishing the contaminated potion with a wave of his wand. "Two weeks detention for deliberately ruining another student's potion!"
"And you're just going to ignore the past five minutes where he tried to throw that in our cauldron?" Harry asked angrily.
"I saw nothing of the sort," Snape drawled.
"Bullshit!" Harry barked, causing the students around him to gasp. "I saw you look up the first time it happened."
With an angry sneer, Snape stalked toward him. Harry stepped out from behind his worktable to meet him.
"You might be used to special treatment where you're from, but you'll get none from me," Snape hissed, his face so close to Harry's that he could smell his sour breath. "You're nothing but a bully, just like your father. I bet Black never told you the truth about the wonderful James Potter."
"Oh, he did," Harry said. "He told me all about it. The difference is, my dad grew out of it. You're the one taking out a schoolyard grudge on students. That would make you the bully now, asshole. No wonder my mom chose him over you."
Snape's eyes widened furiously, and he snatched the front of Harry's robes with his fist. Harry responded by drawing his wand and pressing it firmly against Snape's scrotum. He looked down, his body shaking with suppressed rage, and paused for a long moment before letting go suddenly.
"Headmaster's office," he hissed. "Now."
"Gladly," Harry replied.
Stowing his wand in his pocket but keeping a grip on the handle, he grabbed his bag from the floor and stormed toward the door.
"Class dismissed!" Snape barked, following after him.
"I want him expelled!" Snaped raged as Andromeda stepped out of the Floo and into the Headmaster's office.
Harry and his headmistress were seated across from Dumbledore at his desk while Snape paced furiously back and forth.
"He's not a student here," Esmerelda reminded him calmly before taking a sip of her tea.
"Then I want him arrested!" Snape hissed.
"You certainly could try," she replied agreeably. "Of course, if that were to happen, I'm sure Harry would like to press charges as well."
Snape fumed silently, breathing heavily through his nose as a vein pulsed in his forehead. Walking back and forth like a caged animal, he spotted Andromeda and pinned her with a glare.
"Where's Black!?" he demanded.
Andromeda raised an eyebrow and deliberately made him wait for a response.
"Given the parties involved, I thought it was best if I attended this meeting," she told him. "What happened?"
"Potter tried to put one of my students in the hospital wing and then drew his wand on me when I confronted him," Snape snapped.
Harry snorted derisively and folded his arms over his chest.
"That's enough, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly before conjuring a chair for Andromeda. "Please, have a seat. Tea?"
"No, thank you," Andromeda replied, smoothing out her skirt as she sat.
"Now that we are all here and we've heard from Professor Snape, Harry, would you mind giving us your version of events?" Dumbledore asked.
"I was brewing my potion with Hermione, minding my own business," Harry paused and glared as Snape scoffed, "when Malfoy started throwing dried newt tails at our cauldron. I saw Snape look up when he did it the second time, but he didn't stop him, so the third time he did it, I caught it and threw it back."
"Mr. Malfoy did no such thing," Snape drawled.
"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said pointedly. "Please, continue, Harry."
"Snape tried to give me detention, and I called him out for letting it happen," he continued. "We got into an argument; he grabbed the front of my robes, and I pointed my wand at his balls."
Shrugging, Harry sat back in his seat.
"You put your hands on a student?" Andromeda asked, her eyes narrowed angrily.
"I do not tolerate disrespect in my class," Snape told her.
"I did call him an asshole," Harry admitted when she looked at him.
"That's still no excuse," she frowned.
"No, it is not," Dumbledore said, causing Snape to scowl. "Severus, can you explain the events from your point of view?"
"All I saw was Potter throw something into a cauldron that sent three students to the hospital wing," Snape sneered. "When I tried to punish him, he became belligerent and drew his wand on me."
"Do you deny putting your hands on him first?" Andromeda asked.
Snape glared at her but remained silent, giving her all the answers she needed.
"Perhaps we should let Harry get back to class while we finish discussing this," Andromeda suggested.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement after a moment.
"What about his punishment?" Snape demanded.
"You can inform him later if there is any," Andromeda said firmly before looking at Harry and nodding.
With a sigh, he got to his feet, shouldered his bag, and left the office. The moment the door was closed, Andromeda rounded on Snape.
"What the hell were you thinking putting your hands on Harry?" she demanded furiously. "Do you have any idea how fast I could have you arrested for that?"
Snape sneered and turned away from her, staring at the wall behind Dumbledore's desk.
"This needs to end," Andromeda said firmly as she turned back to Dumbledore. "This is the second time that Malfoy boy has deliberately gone out of his way to provoke Harry. And this isn't the first time he's done something like this. I've been talking to some of my old friends since I got back, and all of them have heard complaints from their children. It's an open secret that Snape lets his students get away with murder. That ends now. I will not tolerate Harry being bullied like that."
Turning to face Snape, she aimed an accusing finger at him.
"And you had best warn your students to stay away from my daughter and Jennifer," she said angrily. "Today was a warning. Need I remind you that Harry was raised by two Blacks? If he wanted to hurt your students, you would find them in the hospital wing without any evidence of who put them there?"
"Is that a threat?" Snape blustered.
"It's a warning," Andromeda said. "You're second of the day. Perhaps you should heed them. Neither of us will be kind enough to give you another."
Turning back to Dumbledore, she stood and slung her purse over her shoulder.
"I will not have Harry punished for defending himself," she said with a challenging glare. "If Snape can't control his students, they can face their own consequences. I suggest you do something about this bullying problem in your school, headmaster, before it gets out of hand."
With those parting words, she turned and strode from the office. She could hear Snape complaining as she closed the door, but she didn't pay any attention to his words. As she reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the hallway, she found Harry leaning back against the wall, waiting for her.
"How much detention do I have?" he asked.
"None," Andromeda replied, causing him to raise his eyebrows. "And I want you to owl me if they try to give you any. Like I just told Dumbledore, I won't allow you to be punished for defending yourself."
"Nice," Harry grinned. "Thanks, Aunt Andi."
Andromeda smiled and gave him a hug.
"You shouldn't have to pay for the mistakes Sirius and your father made when they were young," she said.
Letting go, they walked side-by-side down the hall. Looking around at the familiar walls, she sighed and ran a hand through her hair.
"This place brings back a lot of memories," she said.
"Good or bad?" Harry asked.
"Both," Andromeda replied before pointing to one of the entrances to the Transfiguration courtyard. "I met Ted right here in my second year. He was a first year, and he was being bullied by my sister and a few of her friends. They called him all sorts of horrid names."
"Bellatrix?" Harry asked, to which she nodded.
"Dumbledore lets students bully each other so much at this school," she sighed. "It's been going on for decades, and he's never done anything about it. I think even Sirius would admit they were allowed to get away with too much."
"But why?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," Andromeda admitted. "I think part of the reason he lets Snape get away with so much is to make up for how he was bullied as a student, but that's just making things worse, and Dumbledore's smart enough to know that. Or he should be."
Harry hummed in agreement, and they continued down the stairs in silence for a long moment.
"Could you get in touch with Madam Bones for me?" he asked suddenly.
Andromeda turned and raised an eyebrow.
"Do you want to press charges against Snape?" she asked.
"What? Oh, no. It's not about that," Harry said. "That would just be a waste of time. I want to do some test flights with my broom, and I'd rather not cause an incident. Again. Or get chased across England by fighter planes."
Andromeda sighed, "I wish you would stop making those death traps," she said. "Fine. I'll owl her tonight. Just promise me you'll be safe."
"I'll be fine," Harry assured her.
Chapter 20
Dora dropped into the seat next to Harry and across from Hermione at the Gryffindor table and gave her boyfriend a look.
"Why is there a rumor going around that you cursed Snape?" she asked.
The Weasley twins, sitting a couple of seats down, leaned forward excitedly.
"I didn't curse him," Harry said, rolling his eyes.
Quickly, he and Hermione explained what had happened during their Potions class. They all goggled when he got to the part about jamming his wand against Snape's testicles.
"I bet mom was livid," she said.
"I don't know what she said after I left, but she looked as mad as that time you pretended to be her so we could skip classes and go to Salem," Harry said.
Dora whistled.
"How much detention did you get?" one of the twins asked.
"None," Harry smirked.
"None!?" they chorused.
"None," he grinned.
"You're our hero," they said in awe.
Hermione rolled her eyes, huffed, and buried her nose in a book for a couple of seconds before Harry snatched it out of her hand.
"No reading at the dinner table," he said.
He moved to set the book next to his plate, out of her reach, paused mid-movement, and then handed the book back to her with a look of chagrin.
"Sorry," he said as she snatched it out of his hand angrily. "Habit."
Dora snickered.
"Do you normally steal books from defenseless little girls, Harry?" one of the twins asked.
"I'm not a little girl," Hermione huffed. "Or defenseless," she added.
"We have a friend at Ilvermorny who likes to study a lot," Dora explained. "Harry steals her books once in a while to make sure she has some fun."
Seemingly mollified, Hermione carefully marked her place with a worn Muggle bookmark and set the book down next to her. As she began piling food on her plate, Jenna arrived and plopped down on the bench next to Dora.
"How was class?" she asked.
"Good," Jenna smiled. "Herbology was fun. We trimmed leaves from Venomous Tentacula plants, and Care is taught by this huge guy named Hagrid. He looks really intimidating, but he's actually really nice. Oh, and I made a new friend. Ginny introduced us."
"That's good," Harry smiled. "You didn't have any problems, did you?"
"No," she said, shaking her head and turning to him curiously. "Why?"
"Just curious," he said.
Jenna narrowed her eyes.
"What did you do?" she asked.
"Who me?" he asked, pointing to himself with a perfectly innocent look that drew snickers from the twins.
"I'll tell you later," Dora promised.
They fell into casual conversation as they ate their dinner and were eventually joined by three girls the twins introduced as Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet. They were all on the Quidditch team together, and Angelina and Alicia were dating Fred and George, respectively. Once they were finished eating, they broke into groups and went their separate ways. The twins and their teammates headed back to the Gryffindor common room to get started on their homework while Hermione promised to show Harry, Tonks, and Jenna where the library was.
On their way, they ran into Fleur and a few of her classmates, who were heading in the same direction. They made it halfway down the hall on the first floor when they were interrupted.
"Potter!"
The voice was so high-pitched that, for a wild moment, Harry thought a chipmunk was shouting at him. Spinning around, he spotted Malfoy and his two lumbering friends marching angrily toward him. He noticed that the school Medi-witch had been able to fix the boy's nose, which had shrunk from the potion,but, apparently, hadn't been able to restore their voices.
Vaguely, he remembered hearing a warning about the dangers of overheating a potion and inhaling the fumes, but he hadn't been paying enough attention at the time to recall it.
"Yes?" Harry asked, not even attempting to hide the smile on his face.
"This is your fault!" Malfoy squeaked furiously.
"In all fairness, you deserved it," he replied.
"You'll pay for this, Potter," Malfoy hissed, his voice reaching a range that was difficult to hear.
"Tell you what," Harry said. "Why don't we take this outside and deal with this like men?"
Taking two steps away, he opened a heavy wooden door that led onto the front lawn of Hogwarts.
"After you," he said, making a sweeping gesture with his arm.
With an angry huff, Malfoy stormed outside. The two large boys cracked their knuckles menacingly and glared at Harry before following the blonde outside. As soon as the last one had stepped through, Harry slammed the door closed behind them and locked it with a flick of his wand.
"What an idiot," he exclaimed.
The girls dissolved into laughter around him. Behind them, the door handle rattled as they continued down the hall toward the library. Someone started pounding on the door a moment later, but by then, no one was around to hear it.
The next day, Harry was in the middle of Ancient Runes class when there was a knock at the door.
"Enter!" Professor Babbling shouted.
The door creaked open, and Professor Turner hobbled into the room.
"I apologize for the interruption, but Mr. Potter is needed for the Weighing of the Wands," she said.
"Of course," Professor Babbling nodded. "Mr. Potter, your homework tonight is to finish reading chapter thirty-two of your textbook. I'll be available after dinner all this week if you have any questions."
Harry gave her a cheery salute, stuffed his book and notes in his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. He closed the door behind him as he stepped out into the hall with Professor Turner and followed after her.
"So, what exactly is a Weighing of the Wands?" he asked.
"They need to ensure your wand is in proper working order," Professor Turner said. "I understand the press will also be there."
Harry glanced down at his uniform and quickly magicked away a bit of egg yolk on his lapel, tucked in his shirt, and straightened his tie.
"How's my hair?" he asked, pausing to check his reflection in a passing window.
"Presentable," Professor Turner said.
Frowning, Harry ran his fingers through his hair a few times until it had the proper 'just crawled out of bed' look.
"I've been an educator for more than sixty years," she said as they continued down the hall, "and in that time, I've learned a lot from my students. One thing that I fail to understand, however, is your fashion."
"Girls like bad boys," Harry shrugged.
"And having the hair of a homeless man gives that impression?"
"Yup," Harry smiled. "Make sense?"
"Not in the slightest," Professor Turner said. "In fact, I believe I understand less now than I did a moment ago."
Harry grinned as they reached the room where the Weighing of the Wards was being held. The door was already open, and he paused respectfully to allow his Headmistress to enter before he did.
They were the last to arrive. Cedric was there with his Head of House, and Madame Maxime towered over Fleur off in one corner. Dumbledore stood in the center of the room with an excentric-looking man with frazzled white hair and large, pale blue eyes.
Near them stood the press. There were two reporters. One of them was a blonde woman with bleach-blonde hair, garish makeup, and a lime green tweed jacket. The woman beside her was much younger, possibly in her early to mid-twenties. She had short brown hair, a plain, pale face, and wore a plain blue dress that wouldn't get her spotted from space.
Both of them had brought their photographers. They were both around the same age. One was a witch, the other a wizard, and neither was anything special, but it was easy to tell whose was whose based on the way they dressed.
"1910 called, and they want their cameraman back," Harry muttered.
Professor Turner gave him a pointed look even as a smile twitched at the corners of her lips.
"Ah, just in time," Professor Dumbledore said. "If everyone would gather around, we can begin."
Harry stepped into the center of the room, and Professor Turner stood just behind him. Fleur and Madame Maxime took up a similar position on his left, while Cedric and Professor Sprout took up a position on his right.
"What about interviews?" the blonde reporter asked.
She pinned Harry with a stare, and the predatory gleam in her eyes sent a shiver down her spine.
"Perhaps the Champions will answer a few questions afterward, Rita," Dumbledore said diplomatically. "Now then, this is Garrick Ollivander. He's a world-renowned wandmaker, and he'll be checking over your wands to make sure there are no defects. Garrick?"
"Thank you, Albus," Ollivander said. "I believe we'll start with ladies first. Ms. Delacour, if I may see your wand?"
Fleur strode forward confidently and placed her wand in the man's outstretched hand. Lifting his other hand, he held it lightly between his fingertips, turning this way and that as he examined it closely.
"Nine and a half inches long…," Ollivander murmured. "Rosewood and… dear me!"
"What?" Rita asked eagerly. "What's wrong with it?"
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong," Ollivander said. "It's the core. Most curious. Veela hair, I believe?"
"Oui," Fleur nodded. "One of my grandmuzzer's."
A notepad and an acid-green quill suddenly appeared over Rita's shoulder and began scratching away furiously.
"Remarkable," he said.
Waving the wand in an arc through the air, he produced a stream of purple butterflies that fluttered around the room before vanishing into puffs of purple dust the moment they landed.
"It's in fine working order," Ollivander said, handing it back to Fleur with a smile. "Now then, Mr. Potter."
Drawing his wand from the holster on his hip, Harry stepped forward and placed his wand in his hand.
"Oh my," Ollivander said, taking it between his fingertips.
Rita leaned forward eagerly, but when he didn't elaborate right away, her eyes narrowed.
"Well?" she asked impatiently.
"A Quintana wand, I believe?" he asked, and Harry nodded. "It's been many years since I've seen one of Miguel's creations. Let's see… ten inches… rather flexible…made from a most unusual Snakewood… and, is that a Thunderbird feather I detect?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
"From your familiar?" Ollivander asked.
"No, her mother," Harry said. "She landed right outside the wand shop and dropped it off."
"Fascinating," Ollivander murmured.
He examined the wand for another few seconds before raising it about his head. Nothing seemed to happen at first, and then there was a flash of lightning outside the window, followed by acrack of thunder that rattled the castle.
"A fine wand," he said, handing it back to Harry. "And, finally, Mr. Diggory."
Cedric stepped forward and handed his wand to Ollivander.
"As yes," he murmured, smiling softly. "One of my own. Twelve and a quarter inches… ash… pleasantly springy… and containing a single hair of a particularly fine unicorn. I remember it well. It nearly gored me when I plucked it. It's in fine condition… you treat it regularly?"
"Polished it just last night," Cedric smiled proudly.
Harry smirked and leaned toward Fleur.
"Sounds like we need to find him a girlfriend," he whispered.
Fleur covered her mouth daintily and giggled.
"I heard that, Potter," Cedric said as Ollivander waved his wand, producing a large quantity of white, billowing smoke that coalesced into a life-size unicorn that pranced about the room. "In case you missed it, my wand's bigger than yours."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest dramatically while Fleur renewed her giggles.
"It's not the size that matters; it's how you use it," he said.
Professor Truner poked him firmly in the back with her staff.
"If you two are quite finished with the innuendo?" Dumbledore asked, stepping back to the center of the room while Cedric retook his position on Harry's right. "I trust you're satisfied, Garrick?"
"All three wands are in fine working order," the wandmaker nodded.
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands. "Now then, the first task will be on the-"
"Photos, Dumbledore. Photos," Rita said with a patently fake smile.
"Of course," he said, smiling patiently.
"And perhaps a quick word from each of the Champions," Rita added.
The photographers maneuvered the Champions so that the window was behind them and asked them to scooch closer together. Fleur struck a serious, intimidating pose while Cedric went for something Harry thought was supposed to be heroic. With a grin, Harry slung his arms around their shoulders, ruining their posture. As they turned to glare at him, he gave the photographers an open-mouthed grin and two thumbs up just as they snapped a picture.
It took half an hour and dozens of more pictures before they were satisfied. All throughout that time, the reporters took turns asking questions. Rita, in particular, seemed determined to find some sort of scandal.
'How did you enter the tournament, Harry?' 'You and Ms. Delacour seem close. Are you an item?' 'As a boy of just fourteen, do you feel intimidated by your competition?' she asked.
Thankfully, the other reporter, who he learned was Mary from the Salem Harald, was much more professional. She asked questions of all the Champions, not just Harry. After Fleur saw the way the British press were handling the interviews, she pulled the American over to the side and quietly asked for a copy of her article to be sent to her parents so it could be re-printed in France.
During that time, Harry helpfully distracted Rita by giving her the most outlandish and outrageous answers to her questions that he could think of.
"Oh yeah," Harry nodded. "People duel in the streets all the time in America. It's like the wild west. I once saw an old lady kill a man for playing his music too loudly."
"How tragic," Rita said, lips her lips and smiling as the quill and note page floated next to her, writing furiously. "Have you ever killed anyone?"
"Only a couple," Harry shrugged.
"I believe that's enough for one day," Professor Turner said before Rita could ask her next question.
Frankly, Harry was surprised she let him go on as long as she had.
The reporters packed up and left, Ollivander said his goodbyes, and Harry was relieved to find he'd missed class entirely, and it was now time for lunch.
"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore said as he and the other Champions were about to leave. "Before I forget. Our Care of Magical Creatures professor, Hagrid, would like to know if you would allow his class a look at your Thunderbird."
"Sure," Harry shrugged. "I'll have to check with Levina, but I don't think it'll be a problem."
"I'm sure Hagrid would appreciate it," Dumbledore smiled.
Harry smiled back and left with Fleur and Cedric for the Great Hall. They arrived a little later than the rest of the students, and after a bit of cajoling, he convinced his fellow Champions to join him at the Gryffindor table. Harry was just about toask Dora if she wanted to skip class to go with him to Hagrid's hut when Fleur made a sour face.
"Eet's that boy again," she muttered disgustedly.
Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw Malfoy strutting towards their table with his two lumbering friends.
"This guy just can't take a hint," he sighed.
Dora reached over and patted his arm.
"Let me take care of him," she said.
An intense look of concentration appeared on her face as she closed her eyes. Her hair lengthened and turned black, her face became a bit more angular and aged, and the shape of her body shifted slightly, though it was hard to tell exactly how since she was sitting. Harry grinned when she opened her eyes, and he found himself looking at an exact replica of Narcissa Malfoy.
"Oh, I can't wait for this," he grinned.
"Hey, Potter," Malfoy called, his voice back to normal.
Suddenly, Dora whirled around in her seat with a withering glare. Malfoy was so shocked by the unexpected appearance of his mother that he stepped back, tripped on one of the fat kid's feet, and landed heavily on his ass.
"Listen, you annoying little shit," Dora said, her voice mismatched with her face. "Unless you want me to streak through the school wearing this face, fuck off. Got it?"
Realizing that the woman in front of him wasn't actually his mother, Malfoy furiously got to his feet and glared, his cheeks flushed with anger.
"You-"
He stopped talking suddenly when Dora reached up and undid the top two buttons of her blouse. The top of her black bra was just visible, and the twins leaned over exaggeratedly for a better look.
"I'll do it," she threatened. "Do you want the whole school to see your mom's saggy tits?"
Harry frowned, looked her over, reached around, and grabbed both of her breasts.
"No need to be mean, babe," he said. "These don't feel saggy."
"Potter-" Malfoy growled.
He stopped again when Dora quirked an eyebrow and reached for another button.
"One more word," she hissed.
"Come on, Malfoy," George said. "You're not just going to stand there and take that, are you?"
"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Speak up, man. Say something."
Malfoy glared furiously but kept his mouth shut. Smirking, Harry gave Dora's breasts one last squeeze before letting go.
"Good," Dora said, redoing the buttons of her blouse, which drew disappointed groans from the twins. "Now, fuck off back to your table and leave us alone. And the next time you run your mouth at Harry, I'll be running mine, with your mother's face, up and down his cock."
Malfoy fumed silently, his cheeks turning a shade darker before suddenly spinning on his heel. He tried to force his way past his friends, but they were much too large, and he came to an abrupt stop. They blinked slowly for a moment and then moved out of the way so he could storm away furiously.
"That was brilliant!" Fred exclaimed.
"Masterfully done," George clapped.
"Crude but effective," Hermione admitted.
Smiling, Dora changed back to her normal look. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist, drew her close, and kissed her passionately.
"Would you 'ave really done eet?" Fleur asked.
"The streaking?" Dora asked. "No. I might look like someone else, but it's still my body. Sucking Harry's cock while looking like her, absolutely."
"How did you even know what she looked like?" Hermione asked curiously.
"She's my aunt, unfortunately," Dora admitted with a sigh. "Mum showed me a picture of her."
"You're related to Malfoy?" Ron asked, aghast.
"Not by choice," Dora shrugged.
"We are too, Ron," George reminded his brother.
Ron made a sour face.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Harry said suddenly. "I need to go see Hagrid. Can you show me where his office is, Hermione?"
"He doesn't have an office," she told him. "He lives in the hut on the grounds."
"Really?" he asked, smirking as he turned to Dora. "Feel like skipping class?"
"What do you have in mind?" she asked, eyes sparkling.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Dora were soaring through the skies above Hogwarts on Levina's back. As they circled the castle, they spotted the nest she'd built atop Ravenclaw Tower. After a bit of a search, they found Hagrid's tiny hut near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"There," Harry said, pointing.
Levina followed his finger and dove down. Dora whooped, her arms tightening around Harry's waist as the wind whipped past.
"Let's give him a show, girl!" Harry yelled over the rushing wind. "Buzz the tower!"
Leveling out just a few feet above the ground, Levina banked, circling around the hut, and let out a piercing cry. Not a moment later, Hagrid came stumbling out of his hut, accidentally ripping the door off of the hinges in his excitement. Dropping the door, he stared up at the massive bird in awe as it circled around once more before coming into land.
Harry slipped off of Levina's back, helped Dora down, and grinned at the towering man.
"I heard you wanted to teach your class about Thunderbirds."
Chapter 21
"But being from America may be more of an advantage than many first thought," Hermione read. "Coming from a land where disagreements are regularly settled in deadly duels, often in horrendous public spectacles, means that Mr. Potter already has years of experience in dangerous situations over his competitors from more civilized countries. In fact, this reporter has it on good authority that Mr. Potter is already involved in two deaths resulting from duels. While MACUSA has yet to make an official response, rumor has it that one such duel occurred when a jealous husband confronted him after he was found in bed with the man's wife at the age of 16."
Hermione huffed and set down her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as the students around her laughed.
"This is ridiculous," she said. "How can anyone believe this tripe?"
"Oh, it gets better," George said, reading his own copy of the paper. "I then asked Mr. Potter what he would miss most about school in America. 'The brothels,' he answered. 'It's a great way to relieve stress between classes.'"
"Someone, please tell me it's true," Fred laughed.
Dora scoffed.
"Only if that's what you call Amanda's bed," she smirked.
Amanda gave her an offended look, reached around Harry, and smacked her on the shoulder.
"Are you calling me a whore?" she asked.
"How long did it take you to sneak that boy from Ravenclaw into your cabin?" Dora asked in return.
"Robert's a nice guy."
"His name's Roger."
Harry and the others listening couldn't contain their laughter any longer.
"Bonjour."
As the laughter died down, Harry glanced over his shoulder and smiled.
"Morning, Fleur," he said. "Grab a seat."
Fred and George, looking slightly addled by her Allure, eagerly slid down the bench to make room for her. They only stopped when they bumped into their girlfriends roughly, earning each of them an unimpressed glare. The twins looked at their girlfriends, turned to each other, and swallowed nervously.
"Merci," Fleur said, smiling at their antics as she took a seat between Harry and Fred.
"Did you read the paper?" Harry asked, lifting a copy of the Prophet.
She rolled her eyes.
"Oui," she said with audible disgust. "Eef you can call zat a paper. Where did she even get some of zose lies?"
"I might have gotten bored and made up a few things while you were talking to the reporter from America," Harry admitted.
"And she believed you?" Fleur asked incredulously.
Harry shrugged, "I'm not sure if she's that gullible or just that unethical."
Scoffing, she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and pulled a newspaper out of her pocket. It was a copy of the Salem Hareld, which she set in front of him. On the front page, above the fold, was a moving picture of the three champions. While Fleur and Cedric tried to look impressive, Harry gave them bunny ears, poked them in the side, and was generally being an annoyance. When they turned to glare at him, he struck an exaggerated pose of his own, leading to a bit of laughter before they tried again. Just below the picture sat the title of the article in bold black letters.
Triwizard Champions! A Closer Look at Diggory Delacour and Potter
What followed after that was a well-written article. It briefly discussed each of the Champions, speculated on the upcoming tasks, and discussed how each of them might perform.
"That one's definitely going in the scrapbook," Dora grinned, continuing when Fleur gave her an inquisitive look. "Sirius has a scrapbook he keeps of all the news articles Harry has been in."
"How many times has he been in the paper?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Quite a few," Dora said thoughtfully. "They did an article when he got spotted riding Levina over Reno; then there was the time he put a crater in a corn field in Iowa with his first broom; then they did one when he broke the sound barrier and got the contract with Lockheed; they did a full page in Dueling International when he won his first dueling tournament; oh, and then there was the whole kidnapping thing. So, yeah, he's been in the paper a lot."
"What can I say," Harry grinned when everyone turned to stare at him. "When you're good, you're good."
"You sound like Lockhart," Ron grumbled, wrinkling his nose.
"Who?" Harry asked.
"You can explain later," Hermione said before Ron could answer. "Class will be starting soon."
"I've been excused from morning classes," Harry grinned. "Hagrid wants me to show Levina to a couple of his classes."
"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, I'll give you a copy of my notes."
"Thanks," Harry said, then turned to Jenna. "Want a ride down to class?"
"Ride?" Jenna asked curiously.
"Gather round now, gather round," Hagrid said, beaming and rubbing his hands together excitedly as the class of third years congregated outside his hut. "I got a real treat fer yeh today."
The entire class jumped when a loud cry rent the air. Some of the girls hid behind their larger classmates as they all turned as one and looked to the sky. A massive white Thunderbird circled above them, and as it turned, they could make out two riders on its back. It swooped down, causing the students to duck and a few to scream, but it leveled out just above their heads and glided effortlessly around Hagrid's hut before flaring its wings and landing softly on the lawn.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Hagrid asked. "Come on then, don't be shy."
As Harry and Jenna slid off of the Thunderbird's back, he strode forward confidently while the class nervously edged closer.
"Sorry we're late," Harry said. "Jenna was a bit nervous about flying."
"Ah, don't mention it," Hagrid said, patting him on the shoulder.
Harry staggered under the light tap while Jenna rushed over to join Ginny and a blonde girl with large, pale blue eyes. He wondered if she was related to Ollivander.
"Now, then," Hagrid said, clapping his hands together. "This is Levina. She's a North American Thunderbird. Very rare and powerful creatures. They can control the weather to an extent, produce lightning, andabsolutely love fish."
Levina perked up and chirped softly.
"Ginny, open that barrel next to me hut."
Ginny rushed over and pulled off the lid. Levina shifted impatiently from one foot to the other when she spotted the fish packed inside.
"Easy, girl," Harry said, patting her chest.
"Fresh trout," Hagrid announced proudly. "Grab a couple and come on up. Let's see if she'll let yeh pet her."
Ginny looked at Levina, glanced back at Hagrid nervously, and then looked to Harry. Shrugging his shoulders, he sat down on the ground and leaned back against Levina's legs. She took a tentative step closer, then another, and another, until she was within arm's reach, and then held out one of the trout. Levina snatched it out of her hand, startling Ginny into snapping her hand back. As soon as Levina had swallowed the fish whole, she bent her head down and stared hungrily at the other one. Giggling, Ginny held it out for her to eat and gently reached out to stroke her feathers.
"Well done, Ginny," Hagrid said, grinning and clapping. "Well done."
The class gave her a brief round of applause as she rejoined them.
"Who's next?" Hagrid asked.
As several of the braver students rushed over to the barrel, Harry settled back and relaxed.
A day later, Harry had his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Moody. He and Hermione entered the classroom early and took seats at the front. Other Gryffindor and Slytherin students trickled in over the next few minutes. When Malfoy entered with his friends, he sneered at Harry and took a seat in the back corner of the room.
Just as the bell rang to signal the start of class, Moody limped into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.
"Alright, listen up," he barked, coming to stand at the front of the room and leaning on his staff. "Now that we've finally finished reviewing what lessons your teachers have managed to cram into your skulls over the last three years, it's time to move on. You've learned a lot about how to deal with magical beasts and beings, but now it's time you learned how to deal with dark witches and wizards."
The classes muttered and whispered excitedly, but Harry felt a bit disappointed. He was years ahead of his classmates when it came to dueling, and it was unlikely he'd learn anything new.
"Besides Potter, do any of you have experience dueling?" Moody asked.
Harry glanced over his shoulder. At first, no one reacted, then, with a smug smirk, Malfoy raised his hand.
"Funny, Malfoy, I don't remember reading about you taking part in any dueling competitions," Moody said.
Malfoy scowled as the Gryffindors snickered and lowered his hand.
"I didn't," he said. "But my father hired a former world champion to tutor me over the Summer."
"Did he now?" Moody asked. "Well then, why don't you come up here and give us a demonstration? You too, Potter. On your feet."
Harry stepped around his table and waited for Malfoy to make his way to the front. The blonde swaggered and sneered the entire way. Stopping across from him, he gripped his wand tightly and took an old-fashioned stance with his off-hand cocked behind and his head. Harry snorted and stood relaxed, his wand still seated in the holster on his hip.
"Right, on my signal," Moody said.
A couple of seconds later, he tapped his staff on the floor, and bright red sparks spewed from the tip. Malfoy flourished his wand in a wide arc.
"Stupi-"
Harry drew his wand in a flash, let loose a Disarming Hex, and had his wand back in his holster before Malfoy's had hit the ground. His cheeks went red as he retrieved his wand while the Gryffindors snickered.
"That wasn't fair," he complained. "You didn't say go."
"You think a dark wizard is going to wait for you to get in a silly little stance before he attacks?" Moody asked, causing Malfoy's cheeks to further darken.
"I want another duel," he growled.
Moody scoffed, "This is about determining your skill level, not how fast you can get your arse kicked. Potter's wand wasn't even in his hand when you started. You really think you can beat him?"
"Yes," Malfoy hissed through clenched teeth.
"Alright," Moody shrugged. "I'll even count to three for you this time."
Malfoy glared at Harry and got back into his stance, his muscles visibly tensed.
"One… two… three!"
Malfoy whipped his wand forward aggressively.
"Libe–"
Harry drew his wand and fired off a Bludgeoning Hex, the same spell Malfoy was trying to use on him. The blue spell slammed into the blonde's midsection, driving the air painfully from his lungs. He dropped to his hands and knees, his eyes bulging as he wheezed for breath. Harry twirled his wand around his finger with a smirk, blew across the tip, and stowed it back in its holster.
"Let this be a lesson to the rest of you," Moody said, unconcerned with the student gasping for breath. "The two things that will get you into trouble faster than anything else are stupidity and ego. Break up into pairs so I can see what I'm working with. Malfoy, do you need the Hospital Wing?"
"No," he grunted breathlessly, slowly climbing to his feet.
Moody reached down, grabbed a handful of his robes, and hauled him to his feet.
"Then get back to your desk," he said, shoving him lightly down the aisle.
Harry returned to Hermione just as Moody levitated the desks out of the way. Soon, the room was filled with dozens of voices shouting incantations.
"What's with the holster?" she asked, eyeing it curiously. "I've never seen anyone use something like that. Is it special for dueling?"
"Oh, this," Harry smiled. "Nah. It's a novelty. Sirius volunteered to play a sheriff at a wizarding Wild West park a couple of Summers ago."
"Then why do you wear it?" she asked.
"Gotta look out for my reputation," Harry smirked.
Hermione rolled her eyes even as her lips quirked up in a smile. For the rest of the class, he helped her with her dueling. She attempted to block a couple of his spells by casting a shield nonverbally, but after waking up on the floor for the second time, she agreed they needed more work. Moody hobbled around the room barking advice, but merely nodded approvingly when he passed them.
"Alright, that's enough!" he yelled near the end of class. "We've got a lot to work on and not a lot of time to do it. Read chapters five through seven in your textbooks. Next class, be prepared for a workout. You're dismissed. Potter, stick around."
"I'll see you in Charms," Hermione said.
Packing her bag quickly, she left the room while Harry took his time. Once the classroom was empty, he hopped up on the desk while Moody closed the door with his wand.
"How's your training for the Tournament going?" he asked.
Harry shrugged, "Alright. Not much I can really do since they won't tell us what the task is."
Moody grunted as he sat at his desk, the chair creaking as he leaned back.
"Well, you're talented with a wand, I'll give you that, but you're going to need to know more than stunners and bludgeoners if you want to win," he said, grabbing a sheaf of parchment and a quill.
"Shouldn't you be helping the Hogwarts Champion?" Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Diggory's a good lad, but he wasn't thrown into a deadly tournament against his will," Moody said, then his voice grew softer. "And Diggory's dad didn't save my life in seventy-nine. I couldn't return the favor to him, so I'm doing it for you."
Harry swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat and nodded.
"You're excused from class homework for the rest of the year," he continued in a stronger tone. "I'll be giving you different assignments. I want you to start by learning these spells."
Finishing with a flourish, he handed the parchment to Harry. Taking it, he looked it over and whistled.
"Some of these are pretty nasty… and advanced," he said.
"That going to be a problem?" Moody asked.
"No, sir," Harry grinned.
"Good. We'll see how long it takes you to learn those before we move on. Your other assignment is to find out what the First Task is."
Harry blinked and looked up from the list.
"You want me to cheat?" he asked incredulously.
"This isn't a game, lad," Moody growled. "Someone put your name in that Goblet for a reason,probably because they want you dead. Besides, Diggory's dad works at the Ministry for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Delacour's family is well-connected. Do you think they're not going to find out? If it bothers you that much, tell them. I don't care. My job is to keep you alive and find out who's behind this mess."
"Alright," Harry nodded. "I'll see what I can find."
Folding the parchment, he stuffed it in his pocket.
"Good," Moody grunted and jerked his thumb towards the door. "Get to class. Oh, and Potter, if you see anything odd, you let me know."
Giving him a cheeky salute, Harry left the classroom.