"Harry Potter."
Harry's head snapped up as Dumbledore called his name.
"How?" Someone seated with him breathed, but Harry hardly heard them over the sudden buzzing of the students in the hall.
"Oh, fuckin' brill," Harry beamed and jumped to his feet.
"Harry, up here if you would," Dumbledore said. His eyes were hard and his tone was stern, but Harry didn't care.
He was in the Tournament.
Harry strode up to the staff door that the other champions went in with his head held high and an eager smile on his face. This was brilliant.
"Through there," McGonagall said with an interesting expression of disapproval, fear, and amusement in her face.
Harry glanced at Snape before he walked in the door and blanched at the dark eyed fury he had. Well he couldn't blame Harry. He'd watched as Harry lost 130 points and failed 13 times trying to enter the tournament.
Someone had done him a real favor.
He owed whoever it was a huge favor.
Which... he wasn't thrilled about. But being in the tournament was wicked! It was all he'd wanted since Snape first told him about it. So... hopefully whoever entered him just didn't want anything mad.
Harry went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Diggory was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.
"'Arry, yes?" she said with a kind smile. "What is it? Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
"Nope." Harry was all but bouncing in place as the other champions looked at him. "I'm in. I'm the fourth champion."
The other champions stared at him. Diggory looked rather nonplussed, which was insulting. But Krum gave Harry a bitter grin and shook his head.
"You did warn me," he grunted.
"I did," Harry grinned.
There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He grabbed Harry's arm and Harry, who already had a score to settle with Bagman, jerked his arm out of his hold.
"Don't touch me ever again," he hissed, his eyes bright and his mouth twisted up in anger.
"Sorry, got away from myself for a moment..." Bagman muttered, leaping away from Harry. "Uh, gentlemen and lady- may I introduce the fourth Triwizard Champion?"
Diggory and Krum both shook their heads, amusement pulling their lips up reluctantly. Fleur, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, gaping at Fleur in a way that had Harry's shoulders tightening in irritation. Fleur was a pretty girl, not a fuckin' prize to be stared after.
"No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said with a soft smile towards Harry. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young, 'e will be 'urt."
"Well... it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and looking down at Harry who sneered at him. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... It's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry will just have to do the best he —"
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Dumbledore, followed closely by Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, McGonagall, and Snape. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
Somewhere under Harry's coursing excitement he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy? Harry nearly bared his teeth at Fleur before remembering his mission from the Contessa to build allies with the French students.
Still though, what a fuckin thing to say.
He'd remind her of this when he won the tournament.
Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice.
"Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions — or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"
He gave a short and nasty laugh.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many sparkling rings was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
"I am aware of the oddity here," Dumbledore said calmly. He looked down at Harry, who met his gaze evenly. "Harry, were you successful in putting your name in the Goblet?"
"Nope," Harry stuck his hands in his pockets and surreptitiously held on to his dagger from Black. "Think everyone saw me bugger that up, didn't they?"
Dumbledore's beard twitched, as if he were fighting back a smile or laughter. Which irritated Harry. He wasn't here to entertain Dumbledore.
"He is lying!" Karkaroff roared. "He put his name in the goblet!"
"Yeah... I did it ten times, Sevvie tried once, that snake tried once, and Johnny did it once. Didn't work, did it?" Harry tilted his head to the side as he curiously studied Karkaroff. Everyone saw him enter the tournament thirteen times. Why wouldn't he take credit for it now if he had succeeded?
It's not like he had wanted to look like a failure in front of the entire fuckin' school.
"I do not believe you," Karkaroff sneered. "You have clearly found a way to enter despite the RULES!"
"Weird that you'd worry about a few fuckin' rules, yeah?" Harry smiled sharply, too many teeth showing to look anything resembling politeness.
McGonagall snorted before covering it with a light cough.
"Language," Snape murmured, coming to stand behind Harry and slowly placing a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, do you have any idea how your name came out of the Goblet?"
"None," Harry said honestly. "I'll take Veritaserum if you want me to."
"Yes!" Karkaroff said with a nasty look at Harry. "Interrogate him! He is lying!"
"I would also like 'im to be interrogated," Madame Maxine said. "If 'e did not do it then you would want the culprit caught, yes?"
"Harry cannot take Veritaserum due to an allergy," Snape said, his hand flexing tightly on Harry's shoulder for an odd moment. "Apologies."
"Convenient," Karkaroff sneered. "I've never heard of a wizard with an allergy to potions."
"Bet you've never heard of one surviving the killing curse either," Harry smirked.
"Enough," Dumbledore cut in. "I do not believe Harry entered himself in this tournament."
"Of course he didn't," McGonagall said with her arms tightly crossed. "I lost 40 Sickles to Pomona because he couldn't get across the line. We all saw it."
"You bet I'd make it in?" Harry asked her, oddly touched. "Ta Professor."
"I thought if anyone was idiotic and determined enough to break the rules it would be you," McGonagall said, her voice dry but her eyes sparkling.
Harry shrugged then stuck his chin out as the seven adults and three other champions in the room surveyed him.
"Mr. Crouch... Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice bitter, "you are our — er — objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round face with his handkerchief and looked at Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked creepy, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in a curt voice that made Harry flex his own hand tightly.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Ah, yet I believe as Harry is a minor and I am his guardian, he was unable to legally consent to a binding contract," Snape said smoothly. "And I certainly do not consent. He will not be competing."
Harry spun his head around to look at Snape with badly concealed betrayal.
"You can't do that!" he cried. He turned to Crouch, someone he'd rather not plead to but if Snape was going to try and pull him out he'd have to. "Can he?"
Crouch looked thoughtful before grimacing.
"I am unsure on the legalities here," he said tightly.
"Allow me to make it simple," Snape said. "Harry is a minor. The Goblet cannot accept a binding agreement from a minor. It is not legal. I am perfectly willing to call a barrister if needed."
"Well... Harry's name was chosen..." Bagman said hesitantly.
"Let me say this in a way that even an irredeemable moron like yourself can understand," Snape said calmly from behind Harry. "Potter. Will. Not. Be. Competing."
"Yes. Potter. Will." Harry said, grinding his teeth. Snape was ruining this.
"Over my dead body," Snape hissed, his hand tightening on Harry's shoulder. Harry ripped out of his grasp and spun so he could glare up at him.
"I was chosen. I'm competing."
"Why don't we all take a moment here and allow Severus to call on a barrister to sort this out?" Dumbledore suggested, stepping forward and holding his hands up calmly. "Miss Delaclour, Mister Krum, Cedric- why don't you retire for the evening? I'm sure your classmates will be eager to celebrate with you."
"Not so fast," Bagman said as Snape sent off a quick patronus.
To Malfoy.
Which was fine actually.
Harry liked Snape quite a bit, but Malfoy was bound to him.
"We have to give them instructions for the first task!" Bagman continued. "Barty, would you?"
Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes... the first task..."
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup. Harry hoped he had some horrible disease. It would serve him right for arresting Snape.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Diggory, Fleur, and Krum, with small glances towards Harry, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard...
"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.
"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
This just got better and better.
"No tests?" Harry said happily. "Brill."
"You will be taking them because you will not be competing," Snape hissed, ignoring Krum and Diggory's low chuckles.
"Will too," Harry said. He hated repeating himself but if Snape was going to repeat himself then Harry would as well. "I was chosen, yeah?"
McGonagall scoffed and Dumbledore let out an exasperated sigh.
"Olympe, Igor, if you'd like to stay and find out the results from the barrister Severus summoned?" Dumbledore offered.
"You will inform me of ze decision," Madame Maxine said, placing her hand back on Fleur's shoulder. "Zank you."
"Night Fleur," Harry called charmingly as she strode out beneath her Headmistresses large hand. "Sleep tight."
Fleur looked over her shoulder at Harry and he swore he saw a glimmer of amusement there before she snorted, rather elegantly honestly, and quickly left.
"Guess I'll call it a night too then," Diggory said with an outright smile for Harry. "Good luck Harry."
"I will be staying," Karkaroff drew himself up to his full height. "I want to ensure there are no further miscarriages of justice. Viktor, I will meet you on the ship."
Harry ignored Diggory and Krum as they left and watched the fireplace. Snape told Malfoy to floo to this room and Harry would need to intercept him before he arrived.
After only about another minute of tense silence, the floo flared to life and Harry stepped towards it quickly.
"Do not forget who you swore loyalty to," Harry whispered harshly, yet quietly, as he made a show of (unwillingly) shaking hands with a bewildered Malfoy. "Understand?" he murmured.
"I am pleased to see you as well Heir Potter-Black," Malfoy said clearly. "I have been well, thank you. I will inform Narcissa you send your well-wishes."
Harry admired the way that Malfoy was able to keep a cordial mask up, despite his obvious confusion. The rest of the adults gathered around them quickly and Malfoy attempted polite greetings- which were ignored.
"Harry here was just chosen as the fourth Triwizard champion," Bagman said. "He says he didn't enter, but just having your name drawn constitutes a binding contract-"
"But as Harry is a minor and I, as his legal guardian, do not give permission then the contract is moot. Correct?" Snape asked Malfoy.
Malfoy, damned Slytherin genius that he is, glanced down at Harry's reflection in his snakehead cane topper while humming aloud thoughtfully. Harry shook his head very slightly.
"Hmm," Malfoy said. "What is the Ministry's stance on this Crouch?"
Crouch turned a bland face to Malfoy before grimacing again.
Harry had no idea what his problem was, but if he kept being a prat to Harry's allies they were going to have even more problems.
"It is an irregular occurrence," he repeated dully. "I am unsure of the legalities. Potter was chosen, which binds a contract. But he is a minor with a legal guardian."
"He never should have been entered!" Karkaroff shrieked. "He's a liar and a cheater!"
"Watch yourself," McGonagall snapped. "We all saw him trying to enter all day long. He says he wasn't successful and that's that."
"Then who did?!" Karkaroff demanded.
"That is the question of the evening, isn't it?"
Their odd group, except Harry who had looked up the moment the door opened, spun around as Moody clunked in to the room.
"You!" Karkaroff cried. Harry felt Malfoy shift backwards a bit as Moody stepped up to the group.
"Me," Moody repeated calmly, his magical eye stuck on Harry. "What's the problem here? Potter was chosen, he competes."
Harry gave Moody an approving nod. Maybe he was accepting of Harry's offer to be allies after all.
"Ta," he said.
"He is a minor," Snape snapped. "He is a minor with a life-threatening potions allergy. How will we treat him if he is injured during the tasks? He will die."
... fuck.
Harry hadn't actually thought about that.
"Maybe whoever entered him is hoping Potter will die," Moody said.
"Moody! What a thing to say!" Bagman cried, glancing down at Harry nervously before looking up at Malfoy. "Malfoy- er- what does the law say?"
Harry beamed when Malfoy gave Snape an apologetic look.
"Heir Potter-Black accepted his Heirships and will be recognized legally as an adult who resides with a parent, no different than a seventeen year old living with their family. I will check, of course, but I am confident that the law supports Harry competing."
"Then he competes," Crouch said dully. "That is that."
"Yes!" Harry cheered victoriously.
"BED. NOW." Snape roared, clearly furious. "Lucius, Albus, I will speak with you both later."
"See you in November," Harry called happily to the newly arguing adults behind him. He ignored Dumbledore as the old man called out a calm goodnight and allowed Snape to guide him to the exiting corridor.
"You stupid fool," Snape hissed as soon as they were alone. "How did you enter?"
"I didn't," Harry looked earnestly up at Snape. "You know I wanted to, tried all fuckin' day didn't I? But I didn't get it. Someone just did me a favor I guess," he shrugged.
"It is not a FAVOR!" Snape yelled. Harry took a couple quick steps away from him. If Snape wanted to scream, fine, but Harry wasn't going to have someone screaming in his face.
"If you did not do this the whoever did is an adult within this castle hoping you will die," he said in a harsh tone that was hardly better than the yelling had been.
Harry snorted. Snape was acting like that was a new occurrence.
"Suppose they'll be disappointed then," Harry said as he edged closer to the dungeon entrance. "Cause I'm going to win."
"YOU ARE NOT GOING TO WIN! YOU ARE GOING TO DIE YOU IDIOTIC CHILD! THIS IS NOT A GAME POTTER!" Snape yelled, his eyes wild and his teeth bared. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT CHALLENGES YOU WILL BE FORCED TO FACE?!"
"I dunno why you're yelling at me." Harry clenched his fists and crossed his arms across his chest in an effort to keep his voice steady. "You know I didn't do it."
"You told Lucius to back you up the moment he arrived, didn't you?"
"Nope. That was later. The moment he arrived I told him he was bound to me." Harry knew he was being rude, being insolent, and ungrateful, but why couldn't Snape see this was the luckiest night of his life? Susan thought Halloween was cursed, but she was clearly wrong.
"You have no sense of self-preservation," Snape said sharply. "You are entirely too willing to die for the sake of accolades."
"Jokes on you, I dunno what that means." Harry was impressed his voice sounded so light and uncaring despite his racing heart. He didn't want to fight with Snape.
Why are they always fighting?
"You..." Snape's eyes looked glazed for a moment while he stared at Harry before he blinked and they were blazing. "You do not even know the meaning of the word accolades AND YOU BELIEVE YOU WILL SURVIVE THIS TOURNAMENT WITH A DEATH TOLL? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
"What's wrong with you?" Harry yelled back, quickly moving as far away from Snape as he could. "I'm sorry I'm stupid, but I'm not weak, Snape. I can win. You'll see."
"Harry, stop." Snape closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead, and took a deep breath. "I apologize. I apologize. I did not mean to imply that you were either stupid or weak. Please do not run away from me right now."
Harry hesitated by the dungeon entrance. He was pretty sure Snape wasn't going to hit him, he wouldn't do it when Harry asked him to so he probably wouldn't do it now either. But he was also obviously pissed. You couldn't always trust people not to lash out when they're angry.
And it was better to be prepared just in case.
"My friends are waiting on me," Harry said carefully.
"I am certain your victory party can wait for five more minutes," Snape said sarcastically. "Harry, listen," he took a couple of measured steps towards Harry and slowly reached out for Harry's chin. Harry, very carefully, did not flinch when he grabbed it gently and tilted his head up to meet his eyes. "This is dangerous," Snape said firmly, but not unkindly. "It is not a game. I am worried for your safety, your health, and your life. You could become injured and I will be unable to heal you with the potions it would require. It is a poor excuse for yelling at you, because despite your manipulations with Lucius, I do believe you did not enter yourself. I simply do not wish to see you injured. I do not believe someone entered you as a favor. Do you understand?"
"Muggles get hurt all the time," Harry said stubbornly, resisting the urge to smack Snape's hand off him. "And they're fine. I just have to heal like a Muggle, yeah?"
"Muggles are never injured in a magical tournament," Snape disagreed.
"Then I won't get hurt."
"Do you truly have any idea what you're up against?" Snape asked, dropping Harry's chin and staring down at him. "You are fourteen."
"You must think I'm a real idiot to remind me of my own age," Harry sneered. "I know how old I am, thanks. But I'm in. I'm competing. And I'm going to win. You'll see."
"Go," Snape said flatly. "We will discuss this more tomorrow."
"'Kay," Harry shrugged. Snape could talk about it all he wanted, but on November the twenty-fourth Harry would be competing and that was that. "Night," he called, jogging to hurry towards his friends who would definitely be waiting for him in the common room.
Snape and Fleur and everyone who thought he couldn't do it were going to be surprised when he won the tournament.
They'd all have to see how strong he was then.
And Snape might be upset now, but when Harry won he was sure he'd be proud.
Outside the common room entrance Harry took a deep breath and counted to ten.
You're in, he reminded himself before adopting a smug smirk and pushing open the entrance.
"HARRY! YOU DID IT!" Susan yelled, throwing herself in Harry's arms the moment the painting swung open.
"How'd you do it?" Draco asked.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Ron laughed.
"You're an idiot," Hermione said, her warm brown eyes wide and worried.
"You're going to win," Luna beamed at Harry. "You'll get the trophy."
Harry looked past his friends who were all talking on top of each other and saw that the entire Slytherin house was waiting in a highly decorated common room.
SLYTHERINS CHAMPION! was painted on a huge green banner behind a table filled with drinks and snacks.
Neville, Fred, and George came up to him, slower than Harry's other friends had, but all of them smiling widely at him. Well, Neville shook his head in mock exasperation, but he was still smiling.
"How'd you pull it off?" Neville asked.
"Yeah, how'd you do it?!" a Slytherin standing along the wall yelled.
"Magic," Harry smirked. "If I told you I'd have to kill you."
Harry's friends laughed but Susan whispered in his ear, "Later?"
"Later," he confirmed.
Harry let everyone crowd around him for a few minutes while the Slytherin's were shouting questions, laughing, and congratulating him.
"Cheater," Fred murmured as he smiled down at Harry. "Shame on you Potter."
"Hey, will you stay tonight too?" Harry asked, his excitement leading to the spur of the moment question.
"Thought it was for the gang only?" Fred asked, his brightened eyes already answering for him.
"Well Mione's not in the gang and she'll be here, and I don't wanna repeat myself," Harry shrugged.
"Alright then," Fred smiled.
They all spent about an hour talking about the tournament. Surprisingly, a few Slytherin's offered to loan Harry books on different spells he might need for it.
"When's the first task?" a younger boy came up and hesitantly asked Harry. He was a first year, and looked a bit like Harry with black hair and green eyes.
"End of November," Harry told him.
"Are you scared?"
"Nope," Harry grinned.
"You're brill," the boy said, setting Susan and Luna off in to giggles as he took off to the snacks.
"Your slang is catching on!" Susan said between her laughter. "Oh my Gods."
Luna was unsuccessfully trying to stifle her own laughter but her eyes were bright with amusement.
"You're going to have all the first years swearing," she giggled.
"Good," Harry smirked. "Give Snape something to do when we're gone, yeah?"
Harry celebrated with his housemates and friends until nearly midnight when Theo finally pulled him away from a group of eager fifth year girls that were telling Harry what they thought the tasks might be.
"C'mon," Theo rolled his eyes. "I already kicked Vince and Greg out, Ron and Draco are making your weird floor beds now."
"Ta," Harry grinned. "Let's go."
"Are you finished with your fan club?" Blaise smirked when Harry entered the dorm room and saw his friends were all already waiting.
"For now," Harry stuck his nose in the air pretentiously before laughing. "God, they're all excited aren't they?"
"It isn't often that we get known for anything good," Theo said.
"How on Earth is Harry sneaking in to the tournament going to improve Slytherin's image?"
Hermione asked.
"Oh yeah," Harry sat down on the edge of his bed and shrugged. "So I didn't do it. But don't tell anyone, okay?"
His friends all stared at him in shocked silence before Ron snorted.
"Yeah you did, it's all you've been talking about for months, isn't it?"
"I just said I didn't do it, didn't I?" Harry said coolly, narrowing his eyes at where Ron was sitting on the floor beside Draco. "I'm not a liar."
"Who did then?" Susan asked.
"And why can't we tell anyone?" Fred asked.
"I dunno who did." Harry leaned back a bit on his bed and propped himself up on his elbow. "Moody says it's probably someone wanting to kill me. Snape said it had to be an adult. And I don't want anyone else to know I didn't do it, makes me look weak if someone put me in without me knowing, doesn't it?"
"That's- that's not good Harry," Draco said quietly. "Snape and Moody think that someone entered you to try and kill you?"
"Yup."
Harry's friends stared at him with varying degrees of shock on their faces. Except for Luna, she was just looking up at the ceiling and humming. Then, abruptly, Fred grinned and flopped down on the bed beside Harry.
"Think of how disappointed they'll be when you win instead."
"That's what I said," Harry smirked. "They're gonna look so stupid."
"Who do you think did it though?" Susan asked. "Because I'm getting sick of people thinking they can try to kill you to be honest."
Theo said Timmy at the same time Harry said Karkaroff and Blaise said Moody.
The three boys stared at each other curiously.
"How the fuck would Timmy enter me in the tournament?" Harry asked Theo.
"Who knows," he frowned. "But it's a sight more likely than Moody."
"Nope. I've got 10 Galleons on Moody," Blaise said confidently from his cross legged position on his bed. "He knew you wanted to enter right? Maybe this is his way of trying to make an alliance."
"If so then he's in for sure," Harry grinned. "But I'm thinking it was Karkaroff."
"Why would the Durmstrang Headmaster enter you in the tournament?" Neville asked.
"Because he used to be a Death Eater," Harry explained. "And he must know Timmy's coming back. So maybe he thinks if he kills me off then Timmy won't be so mad he sent those other Death Eaters to prison."
"Damn," Fred swore. "I bet you're right."
"He better not try anything," Susan said shortly. "Because he'll regret it."
"Like I said, he's going to look stupid when I win, won't he?"
"What do you think the first task is going to be?" Ron asked eagerly. "They said you can only have your wand?"
"No knives?" Draco smirked.
"No swords either," Harry shook his head sadly. "But it can't be anything too hard if an idiot like Diggory is expected to survive it."
"Cedric is not an idiot," Hermione said hotly. "He's a prefect isn't he?"
"So was Percy," Fred laughed. "And he's a right git."
"I agree with Weasley," Draco scowled. "Diggory's an imbecile."
"You're just mad you lost one game that he won," Hermione said.
"And you just think he's cute," Theo drawled with a sly smirk.
"I do not! I happen to think he's very kind, polite, and smart!" Hermione sniffed.
Harry listened happily as his friends debated over the qualities of the other champions and pictured himself holding the Triwizard Trophy up high in front of the whole school.
Alive.
Free.
Strong.
"Whatcha thinking about Darlin?" Fred asked quietly.
"Winning the tournament," Harry said honestly. "Then you'll have 500 Galleons to put towards your shop, right? Plus," Harry lowered his voice. "I'm going to get your money back from Bagman next time I see him."
Fred rolled his eyes but gave him a lopsided grin.
"I was teasing you about splitting your winnings, you keep it."
"But you said you wouldn't enter if I split it with you, and I will," Harry insisted. "Otherwise it's not fair."
"Harry, I was joking. I know that's rare for me, but it really was a joke. You should keep your gold and buy a bunch of swords or something wicked."
"We'll see," Harry snorted. "But next time I see Bagman I'm going to get your money."
"My hero," Fred sighed dramatically with a hand on his heart. "I'll be sure to give you a sweet discount once our shop opens."
"Deal," Harry grinned.
When Harry laid on the floor that night, his head in the crook of Fred's arm and Lue's head on his chest, he let his mind drift back to his previous fantasy about winning the tournament.
Harry would stand up on a platform and raise the trophy high. His friends would all be cheering for him. Snape would be giving him that proud look he gives when he's pleased with Harry. Black, the Contessa, Amelia, and the Malfoy's would all be there waving at him. Harry would look at Dumbledore and feel a smug sense of satisfaction as he has to announce that Harry won.
It would be the best day of his life.
The next morning at breakfast Harry pulled one of his pills out from the bottle and hesitated before he took it.
'I am worried for your safety, your health, and your life. You could become injured and I will be unable to heal you with the potions it would require.'
"What's up Harry?" Susan asked as Harry stared down at the pill in his hand.
"Nothing," Harry said hastily, pocketing the pill. "Just thinking about the first task."
"Hermione read about the previous tasks and her and Theo have some theories on what's coming up," Blaise said.
Harry turned toward Hermione and Theo and grinned at them.
"Let's hear it then," he said, the pill in his pocket already forgotten about.