They Shook Hands: Year Four (Original Version)

Dethryl

Story Summary:
Harry Potter's new life with his godfather, Sirius Black, is the stuff his best dreams were made of. As they turn 12 Grimmauld Place into a real home, Harry finally gets to hear all about his father and mother. At the Quidditch World Cup, Harry learns of the upcoming Triwizard Tournament from Mr. Lucius Malfoy. Back at Hogwarts, there's treachery afoot, as Harry is named as a fourth Champion. Can his reputation recover from what the other Houses are saying? Who will stand with him? Who will stand against him? Tasks of immense danger loom, and dark shadows are gathering again. How can Harry survive with life and limb in peril? Will Harry ever be the same again?

Chapter 13 - The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

Chapter Summary:
Three days left to the first Task, and Harry has a battle plan. Professor Snape inquires of Harry's preparation and mocks the rule against help from teachers. His plan much improved, Harry is in high spirits. Struck by a moment of fairness, Harry decides to share his foreknowledge with Diggory. Entertainment is provided by Weasley making a fool of himself for the part-veela champion from Beauxbatons, and that leads in to the prank Harry and Draco plan for him. Harry invites his friends to join him in practicing for the Task.
Posted:
09/18/2009
Hits:
1,919
Author's Note:
This chapter is dedicated to rae for reasons she will understand. All chapters are posted on Schnoogle. All chapters and some juicy extras are posted on



They Shook Hands : Year Four

An alternate (but realistic!) universe Harry Potter fic
by Dethryl

Chapter Thirteen - The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

As they filed out of the Potions laboratory on Monday morning, Snape called out for Harry to remain behind. "Mister Potter? A word, if you please."

"Yes, sir?"

Snape closed and locked the door with a wave of his wand. Then he gave another wave and whispered something Harry didn't catch.

"There. Now we may speak privately."

"Is something wrong, Professor?"

"Officially, I am not to provide you with any help through the course of the Triwizard Tournament." Snape paused and smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way. "Officially. However, given that your participation is unwilling, and more importantly that your entry is subsequent to you becoming a member of Slytherin House, I do not find such prohibition valid or binding. Moreover, while Professor Dumbledore may espouse such high-minded nonsense about fair play and sportsmanship, Maxime and Karkaroff have no such delusions. Cheating is one of the fine traditions of the tournament. They will be playing to win. I will, of course, provide you with any help I am able."

Harry gasped in shock. Snape was skilled in every area of magic, excelling in Potions and Defence. He was no slouch at Transfiguration or Charms either. Best of all, he was Slytherin's Head of House, an example of the best. Snape was crafty, calculating, and cunning on display. He had to keep a lid on the most ambitious and driven students in the school.

"That's wonderful news, sir!" Harry managed to say. He'd wished for Snape's help, and now he had it. Thank Merlin!

"I have only just learned the ridiculous nature of the first Task," Snape continued. "You are going to be confronted with a dragon."

"I know, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? And what do you plan to do about it?"

"Well, Sirius recommended a Conjunctivitis Curse since the eyes are the weakest spot."

Snape shook his head. "I might have expected such an insane idea from a Gryffindor. One wizard taking on a dragon head-on? Mister Potter, you would not stand a chance, Lucius Malfoy's polite words in the paper notwithstanding. Your godfather is missing the point. Do you know the precise nature of the Task?"

"No, sir."

"The Task is to retrieve a golden egg from a nest of simulacra being guarded by the dragon."

"How did you find out, sir?"

"I was called upon to brew the potion that simulates the smell of real eggs and makes the dragons protect them. The goal is not to defeat the dragon; the dragon is misdirection. The goal is to get the egg."

"How do I get the egg if I don't defeat the dragon?"

"Distraction. Diversion. Make the dragon focus on something else just like those who designed the Task are making you focus on the dragon. Dragons usually love fresh meat. Beef or swine will do nicely. Can you turn stone to flesh?"

"Barely."

"I recommend you practice. But it is better to not rely on new and untried skills. What strengths do you possess that would work to your advantage?"

Precisely the question Harry had been asking himself. He was good at Quidditch, but that was no good in defeating a dragon. He was good at Potions, but he wouldn't have time to brew anything, though he did suppose he might borrow a flame from the dragon. He hadn't learned anything in Defence that would help against a dragon, except for maybe the Imperius Curse, and he could hardly do that in front of the student body and half the world. He certainly wasn't about to try practising it on his friends, either.

"About all I'm good for is playing Quidditch, sir, but that's no use against a dragon. I could hardly hit a Bludger at it."

"Ah!" Snape said with a pointed finger. "Quidditch is more than a game, though. You are an excellent flyer. Do you not see how this can help you achieve your goal?"

Harry had considered his flying skills of no use in defeating a dragon, but if the goal was to retrieve something the dragon was guarding- "It would let me be quicker, sir. I could fly in and grab the egg." As he spoke, Harry felt himself believing his own words. "It would be just like a Snitch or even Longbottom's stupid Rememberall back in first year."

Snape looked very satisfied that Harry had worked it out on his own. "Just like a Snitch."

Harry couldn't believe it. He'd been worried about accurately casting an unfamiliar curse and dodging jets of fire. All he had to do was get hold of his broom and the Task would be as good as won.

"I just need to figure out how to get my Firebolt." The competitors were allowed only their wands for the first Task.

"You have already covered with Professor Flitwick the spell perfectly suited to that need."

"The Summoning Charm." A spell he knew! He wasn't phenomenal at it, but at least it worked for him. Crabbe, Millie, and Pansy had never succeeded.

Snape's slight smile broadened by the smallest of margins. "You see, Mister Potter? You do not need my help at all."

Harry was in a daze as he left the classroom. Draco, Pansy, and Jenna had waited for him. He incredulously said, "I know how to get past the dragon."

Pansy and Jenna gasped. "How?" Draco asked.

"I just need to be able to Summon my broom."

"From the dormitory through the common room, out the wall, through the corridors, out the front gate, and in to the stadium?" Draco sounded sceptical. "That's a heck of a long way."

"I know. Maybe I should keep it in the broom shed for a night."

"That would work. Isn't the lock on the shed broken?"

"It is?"

"It will be. So old Snape told you how to win?"

They began to head for the Great Hall.

"Yeah. I have to retrieve a golden egg from a dragon nest. He says the dragon is just misdirection."

"I wonder what's so important about the egg."

"Snape didn't say. I don't know if he knows."

"I'm sure he'd tell you if he did," Pansy said confidently.

"Me too. He said my being a Slytherin was more important than some silly rule, especially given how I've been set up."

"He's completely right. I bet Professor Vector would help if you asked her nicely."

"I may do that. I wonder what advanced Arithmancy could help me do?"

"You'd have to understand the numbers," Pansy sighed. "You'd have the best chance of any of us."

Throughout lunch, Harry wrestled with an important question. Professor Snape had told him that the other champions were going to have help from their teachers. Had anyone told Diggory? It really wasn't fair if he were the only one who didn't know. Hufflepuffs played fair, even to a fault, but it didn't sit well with Harry to let Diggory go in to the first Task unprepared. Harry didn't know what he would have done if he had only learned about the dragons a few minutes before the Task. Would Diggory?

He wouldn't, Harry decided. Hagrid hadn't quite gotten enough courage to try introducing his top students to dragons -- it was only a matter of time -- and Harry had never heard any of the older Slytherins discussing the topic either.

Harry would have to tell him.

But he couldn't very well prance up to "the real Hogwarts champion" as some were calling Cedric, surrounded as he was with giggling girls, and announce that they were going to be facing dragons. It would be seen and gossiped that Harry was trying to play mind games with his opponents, stirring up more trouble Harry didn't need. It was only when they walked in to History of Magic, which they shared with Hufflepuff, that the solution to Harry's dilemma landed right in his lap. He paid attention through Professor Binns' lecture and kept one eye on the door as the bell rang.

"Hey Susan," Harry called out as she made to leave the classroom. She stopped and turned. "Do you have a minute?"

"I suppose," she replied, sounding as though she could handily name a dozen things she'd rather do. She glanced at Hannah, who had also stopped. "I won't be long."

"I know you think I cheated to get in to the tournament," he said plainly when they were alone. "I don't know what evidence I can show you to change your mind, but all I can do is tell you I'm not that kind of person. I believe in honest advantage, not an unfair edge."

"So you say."

"I need you to give Diggory a message for me, okay? It's very important and has to do with the first Task. He needs to know how to get past a dragon. Don't ask me how I found out, but the other champions know too. I don't want Diggory to get killed because he wasn't ready."

Susan's eyes, which held cold scepticism, narrowed in suspicion. "You're trying to trick him."

"No!" Harry felt frustrated beyond belief. "Susan, I swear, it's the truth. You've got to tell Diggory. Please!"

"Oh, I'll tell him, all right," Susan promised. "I'll tell him exactly what you tried to do. In fact, I'm going to go right now!"

With a flash of her long braid, she was gone.

Harry sighed. Well, even if Diggory didn't believe him, at least he'd tried. If he didn't listen, Harry had done the right thing. He could take satisfaction in that after the first Task was over.

Assuming he lived.

He would. Harry wasn't about to go down without a fight.

In the greenhouses, most of the Ravenclaws continued to give him the cold shoulder. Only Padma Patil gave him so much as a smile, but she did not approach him, and Terry Boot studied Harry through narrowed eyes. Harry worked with his back to them all.

After their double Herbology lesson, the Slytherins hurried back to the dormitories to have quick showers before dinner. They still arrived halfway through the meal, and Harry didn't get to speak to Draco alone until they were back in the common room.

"Get your broom and come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Second floor girls' bathroom."

Draco sobered. "You're going to open the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes. I need a place to practice without the whole world watching. I want you to come with me."

"I would be honoured." Draco's face was solemn as he took his broom, the Nimbus 2000 that Harry had given him for Christmas, out of his trunk.

Harry grabbed his Firebolt, and the pair headed out, also carrying a Quaffle to put off any questioners. On the second floor, they made their way to the haunted bathroom that contained the entrance to Hogwarts' most legendary secret.

Harry ran a finger over the tiny engraved snake on the copper tap. He stared very hard at it, willing himself to believe it was real. "Open," he hissed in the dusty language of snakes.

The grime of the tunnel was still thick. It wasn't as though the house elves cleaned this part of the castle. Harry snapped off a dozen Scouring Charms and hopped on to his broom. He floated down the pipe, scrubbing away a thousand years worth of muck and mildew as he went.

Draco mounted his Nimbus 2000 and created two floating balls of flame to light their way as they cleaned the whole length of the pipe.

At the bottom, Harry cast a Sweeping Charm with a vast wave of his wand. All of the assorted bones and skulls went skittering along the floor to collect in a pile. He would figure out what to do with them later.

More Scouring Charms cleaned up the pools of stagnant water, and the vast skin that had so frightened them on their first trip in to the bowels of the school was shoved off to the side.

At last they came to the double doors that marked the Chamber proper. Harry spoke the command, and the snake locks disengaged. The door creaked open.

Dust and dirt filled the many cracks in the stonework here, but once they'd been cleaned up a bit, the place didn't seem nearly so gloomy. A few globes of light really helped.

As Harry had hoped, the great vaulted ceiling here was more than sufficient to allow him to fly freely. He took a pass up and down the length of the chamber. It was perfect! The chamber was even suitable for Quidditch. He and Draco tossed the Quaffle back and forth a few times, but Harry didn't waste much time playing around.

He threw himself in to a torturous looping pattern designed to help Seekers evade Bludgers. Parts of it could definitely be adapted for dragon fire. Draco helped by shooting minor hexes and jinxes at Harry. They stayed until nearly curfew, and they secretively emerged from the large pipe in the bathroom much cleaner than a year and a half ago when Harry had saved the school.

Back in the common room, Draco and Harry sat and spent at least ten minutes staring in to the dancing flames of the fireplace as they discussed strategy.

"Your idea is brilliant," Draco said cheerfully. "Nobody's going to expect you to pull a broom out of your arse. You'll fly circles around that big, dumb lizard, and Slytherin will get all the glory. But Krum and Diggory are both Seekers too. They might have the same idea, so in that case speed will matter. Don't waste a lot of time showing off; just lure the thing away from the egg and zoom."

"Thanks for the help. I couldn't prepare nearly so well without you."

"It's tally, Harry. My pleasure."

* * *

Before Professor Vector arrived at class on Tuesday morning after breakfast, Susan Bones strode over to Harry's desk and folded her arms across her chest.

"Well, I told him," she said. "He's not convinced you're not lying, so he thanks you for the warning."

"You'll see. Maybe then you'll be sorry you were so judgemental." Harry hoped she'd be decent enough to apologize once she saw the truth with her own eyes.

Susan didn't reply, but she didn't seem angry as she walked back to her seat like she had when talking to him before.

Any further thoughts were superseded as Professor Vector walked in and began the lecture. Harry was glad to see that the lesson was on fractions, something Harry had done well with in Muggle school. Without that prior experience, he would have been utterly lost as Professor Vector laboured to explain the mysteries of numerators and denominators.

In Astronomy, Professor Sinistra talked about how the alignment of the planets would lend power to those competing in the first Task of the Triwizard tournament. Harry took feverish notes. Any advantage he could gain, he would take, particularly if the heavens wanted to offer their help.

Everybody hardly dared to breathe whenever Professor Moody spoke for fear of missing a word. For every nasty Dark curse they learned about, there was always a story to go along with it about how some Death Eater (in the last war) or follower of Grindelwald (in the previous war) had used it in combat. Today, he was lecturing them about duelling technique.

"The best way to defend against a hex is to not be there when it lands. A simple side-step can make most curses miss you. Some wizards can control the path of certain spells, but aim is of the utmost importance when dealing with a deadly opponent. If there's more than one? Your aim better be perfect, because otherwise you're dead."

Professor McGonagall's lessons had shockingly gotten a bit easier for Harry. He didn't know what had changed -- she certainly hadn't altered her teaching technique -- but Harry found himself intuitively understanding her better. Transfiguration ceased to be completely onerous for him, and he was able to help his friends as they tried to change stones to mice.

After the lesson, Harry didn't want to make the trek all the way down to the dungeons to drop off his bag only to trudge back up to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Draco, let's just go eat."

"Yeah, I thought I was going to die of starvation while old McGonagall went on. I hope there's beef tonight."

The other fourth year Slytherins headed for a secret passage, though Pansy and Jenna stuck close by. Laine, Lucas, Ginny, and Arcen met up with them on the stairs, and the octet hurried down to the Great Hall.

With the cluster of people constantly surrounding him, Harry felt much like the other champions. But where Harry's friends were trying to protect him from assault, Diggory and Krum were seen with clusters of admirers. Fleur Delacour also attracted a rather large congregation of young men who had the most amazing things to say to her.

Amongst those so afflicted was Ron Weasley. He and the other two he commonly hung around with, Thomas and Finnigan, were loitering in the entrance hall that evening. They were doubtless waiting to mock Harry by asking for his autograph, but Fleur's appearance, with three other Beauxbatons girls, must have distracted him.

Weasley practically threw himself in front of her. "Hi," he said intelligently.

The French girls giggled.

"Do you want to go for a ride on my broomstick? Er, vooz voo-lets-"

"Hah!" Fleur's haughty response contained clear tones of disinterest and disdain.

"I built a better broom, one that will fly to Jupiter."

Fleur swept Weasley aside with a single wave from her wand. The girls strode by his crumpled form without so much as a glance down.

"I think she likes you, Weasley," Draco hooted with laughter.

Weasley got up, his face red and blotchy. He didn't say a word to the Slytherins, just turned and walked away.

Dinner itself contained nothing so amusing, and on the way back to the common room, Harry asked Draco, Pansy, Jenna, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millie to come with him as he ducked away to the Potions classroom.

"Guys, I need your help. Thanks to Sirius and Professor Snape, I know how to beat the dragon and get the egg. But the dragon knows how to beat me too, and that's where you come in. I'm pretty good in the air, but I've never had to do serious dodging like I'll have to do on Thursday. I need you to hex me."

"So why isn't Tim here?" Draco asked. "He'd love to hex you."

Harry ignored Draco's sass. "I want you to use minor hexes, please. Just give me something to fly around."

"Where are we doing this? Quidditch pitch?" Millie asked.

"Better," Draco said with a smirk. "My fellow Slytherins, make obeisance to Lord Potter, the Heir of Slytherin, for he invites us to his domain in the Chamber of Secrets."

The three girls shivered and quivered, while Crabbe and Goyle looked awed. They had all heard the tale of how Harry had defeated the memory of Tom Riddle (the real name of Lord Voldemort), but only Draco and Tim had actually gone down with him, and neither had entered the Chamber proper.

With careless idleness, they discovered themselves on the second floor. They made a turn down one specific corridor and the four boys ducked in to the girls bathroom while the girls kept the watch. The door was locked behind them. Harry spoke the word. The sink fell out of place as the wall opened and the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets appeared.

"Gravitas penna!" Harry said, waving his wand over each of his friends in turn. "Hop in."

Harry's Featherfall Charm wasn't quite as good as Sirius', for they shot down the pipe a tad quicker than feathers. It was actually jolly fun. The landing was distinctly soft, so Harry did wonder if the spell hadn't fully activated until they were close to the bottom.

His friends were looking around with amazement writ plain across their faces. Harry had left some orbs filled with magic flame down here to light the way. He wasn't quite as good at conjuring fire as Goyle, but he wasn't half-bad. On past the giant skin and to the ornate serpentine door they went. Harry opened the lock with a word in Parseltongue, and they all filed inside.

More lights adorned every surface. The gloom and doom had been completely chased away from the central hall at least. Harry picked up his Firebolt, which he'd left leaning against a pillar. He kicked off in to the air, looping a few times to work out the tight muscles. He warmed up while the others took a look around.

Their fascination was understandable. They were standing amidst history. Other than Tom Riddle, the last person to set foot here had been Salazar Slytherin himself, the greatest of the Hogwarts Four, their Founder. He had set the high standards the house reached for, standards higher than the towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents that rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness. A statue of Slytherin stood against the back wall. as high as the Chamber itself. The giant face was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. Filtered light lit a circle on the stone floor at the statue's feet.

Ginny Weasley had lain in that circle of light while her soul was devoured by Tom Riddle's diary, which had contained a bit of his own soul. She had poured her life energy in to him, and he had poured his soul back in to her. He had almost returned to life before Harry had destroyed the diary.

Harry shook his head, refusing to let his memories overwhelm him. He had too much work to do. He called his friends back to the task at hand. They shot many a hex in to the air at him, and Harry took quite a few at first. Three hit him all at once and nearly knocked him off his broom. Only the low power of the jinxes saved him. After that, Harry got much nimbler. He missed many bolts of light by the skin of his teeth, but he missed them. Slowly but surely, his twists and turns got neater and sharper. It really moved beyond the realm of mere flight and became a form of dance.

For his own offence, Harry painted a target on the polished stone wall of a dragon's face, and Draco cast a spell to animate it. After he felt reasonably confident in his ability to avoid serious damage, he tried to fly one-handed with a drawn wand. This was also relatively easy, because the Seeker had to use one hand to catch the Snitch. Harry decided to try casting the Conjunctivitis Curse.

The results were disastrous.

He nailed Millie square in the face with one mis-aimed try. Jenna shrieked and ducked out of the way of another. The three that did strike the wall were nowhere near the target, which was now laughing at Harry.

"Somebody please tell me we know the counter for this," Millie said tearfully.

Fortunately, Harry had made sure Draco knew it in case of emergency.

Harry tried harder, throwing himself through the skies, trying to give himself that one extra half-second to aim. The Firebolt's speed and manoeuvrability helped a lot, and Harry did eventually improve.

When he needed a break from flying, he sent Goyle off to the farthest corner of the tunnels and practised Summoning his broom. This spell also took some time, but Harry was diligent. Eventually the Firebolt answered his call consistently. By then Harry was knackered, but he was certain he could call his broom from the shed.

Upon their return to the common room, where they just barely made curfew, they found Blaise sitting at a near table. She looked up as the wall closed, a frown on her face. "Where have you all been?"

"We went for a stroll around the grounds," Draco lied instantly. "A little evening constitutional to settle the digestion."

"For three hours?"

"I had a lot of digestion to settle. I ate rather a lot at dinner, you know. I went back for seconds on pudding, I might add."

"Malfoy, you are so full of it."

"Yes, I just said that. I'm very full of pudding. Crabbe and Goyle, on the other hand, ate far more than I."

"Stop being a prat and answer me," Blaise demanded. "Where did you all go, and why wasn't I invited?"

Draco lost his bantering tone. "I'd rather be full of it than empty inside, Zabini," he sneered. "Which is what seems to be your problem lately. 'Why wasn't I invited?'" he whined. "Get over yourself already, for magic's sake. We're tired of you being such a drag all the time."

Blaise's eyes flicked to Harry almost instinctively. Harry stared back resolutely. This had to end. By Merlin, he wanted his good friend back. He wanted back the girl who could always make him smile. Blaise had given Harry his first hug. She'd been the first of his friends to invite him to talk about anything that was on his mind. She'd been the one to tell him that friends could disagree with each other.

"I'm sorry my feelings aren't reciprocated," she said stiffly. "But I can't just let them go. You may not know it now, Harry, but we're meant to be together. We will be some day."

"But not today," he said quietly. "Nor tomorrow. And Thursday I have an appointment with destiny. Beyond that, I'm not making plans."

She twitched a grin at his weak joke.

"Can't you just wish me well, Blaise? Support me with the others, because I really could use the help."

"I don't know if I can keep my feelings to myself," she confessed, "but never think I'm not supporting you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Draco looked like he was going to say something, so Harry stepped on his foot. "It's late. We've got Herbology first thing, and I hate grubbing in the dirt on low sleep."

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Blaise. Pansy, Jenna, Millie, good night."

* * *

Wednesday morning's lesson was just as unpleasant as Monday's. Most of the Ravenclaws once again resolutely ignored Harry, and he was perfectly content to ignore them right back. He focused all his attention on the Flutterby Bushes. Wishing there was time between classes for a wash, Harry led the way to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall surprisingly assigned them no homework. Not that they complained, but in response to their astounded faces, she said, "With the first Task tomorrow, I have no illusions anyone will devote time to study for the next few days. You have all been working hard, and perhaps a short respite is called for."

At lunch, Hannah Abbott approached Harry as he and the gang made ready to head to Charms.

"Hey, Potter, do you have a mo'?"

"Sure." He folded his arms across his chest. "What names are you going to call me this time?"

Hannah shook her head, sending her blonde hair flipping around. "It's not like that. I've got a message for you from Diggory. He wants to meet face-to-face."

"What for?"

"He didn't say."

Harry thought. "Trophy room. After dinner."

"Thanks. Bye."

She walked away. Obviously she hadn't changed her attitude towards him at all. She'd just been doing Diggory a favour.

Professor Flitwick's lesson on Relocation Charms was interesting, but Harry was too distracted and couldn't make the spell work at all. It was very frustrating, especially given his recent success with the Summoning Charm.

"Manipulating objects with the power of a single Charm will take us right through the end of term," Professor Flitwick lectured. "In January, we will begin work on the Banishing Charm, which is the opposite of the Summoning Charm, and is also related to the Relocation Charm. If you can perform one of these Charms, you can do all of them. All three will be on the final exam in June."

At least Harry was exempt from that.

Stung by Flitwick's excoriating evaluation of his performance, Harry complained about his failure as they headed down to the dungeons for double Potions. He wasn't alone; nobody else had managed to cast the spell properly either.

As they crossed from the castle proper to the dungeons, Draco nudged him. "Hey, this should cheer you up. Let's ambush Weasley before class. We can decorate him all kinds of colours and let Snape find him."

"Excellent."

They took position to the left side of the classroom door, so that approaching students had to go around them to enter. Tim and Blaise ignored them, while Pansy and Jenna giggled wickedly.

Weasley saw them, and his step faltered for a brief moment, but an eager grin appeared on his face as he strode forward. "Hey! Aren't you Harry Potter the famous Triwizard champion? Wow, can I have your- Hey!"

His mocking words were interrupted as Harry and Draco pointed their wands.

"Os comme gelée!"

"Everte statum!"

The two bolts of light struck Weasley at exactly the same moment, and he was blasted back against the wall. He sank to the floor, and though he tried to pull himself up, his legs would not sustain his weight. He made for his wand, but Harry deftly deprived him of it with a neat Summoning Charm.

"Accio wand!"

"Damn you, Potter!"

"You had fair warning this time, Weasel," Draco sneered.

"If you say so, ferret," Weasley replied fiercely.

"I do. You would do well to listen to your betters. It's because you don't learn these lessons, Ronald, that we continue to have these unpleasant meetings."

"Get stuffed, Malfoy!"

Draco tsk-tsked Weasley. Then with a wave of his wand and a single word, Weasley's black uniform robes became blue and grey striped!

"Get these off of me!"

Harry waved his wand as well, and with a Painting Charm wrote, "I Wanna Be French", on the back of the robes in bright white letters.

"What are you writing? Potter, I'm going to break your arm!"

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco ordered tersely. "Now, should we shave his head or not?"

"Not. But we should help him comb it."

"Excellent. Allow me."

"You are the comb expert."

Draco stuck out his tongue and cast a spell they'd learned from Pansy. Weasley's scalp flared pink for a moment, and then his hair was tightly French-braided in a dozen rows. Even though his hair wasn't long enough for a Muggle to have done it, with magic, much more was possible. Weasley yelped in pain as his scalp was suddenly tugged in all-new directions. "What the bloody smeg?"

"Just trying to help, Weasley. You've got to look your best for the French tart."

Harry grinned. "Hagrid's dog Fang doesn't drool as much as you do when you see her, Weasley. Do you have to be so crass? We are trying to put our best foot forward in front of the foreigners."

"Nice one, Harry," Draco said as an aside.

"Thanks."

"I guess the whole point here, Weasley, is that we don't think you're paying enough attention in class. You should listen to Professor Moody. Constant vigilance!"

Harry couldn't hold it any longer and started laughing until his sides ached. "Constant vigilance!" he wheezed.

Weasley wasn't laughing, but he never did seem to have much of a sense of humour. Draco applied a Sticking Charm to glue the boy's feet to the floor while Harry left Weasley's wand just out of reach. Still chuckling, the two Slytherins ducked in to the classroom.

Professor Snape came along presently, and he noted Weasley's absent seat with a twinkle in his eye. "Thomas, inform Weasley he has a detention with me tonight after dinner."

"Yes, sir."

After a double dose of brewing, which was always enjoyable, they hurried to the common room to drop off their bags and headed immediately up to dinner. They laughed past Thomas and Finnigan, who were trying to reverse the spells Weasley was under.

Harry hurried through dinner. He wanted to get to the trophy room before Diggory did and be waiting for him. Not that he really thought Diggory would resort to foul play, but it was what Professor Moody would have done. When Harry had finished his last glass of pumpkin juice, he immediately rose and made to leave.

"Where are you off to?" Jenna inquired, putting her fork down.

"Clandestine meeting," Harry quipped truthfully.

"A secret meeting? Alone?"

"No, someone else will be there too. Otherwise it's not quite a meeting, is it?"

It wasn't often Harry got one up on Jenna, and he enjoyed it while he could. She usually fired back with some zinger that had them all in stitches, but not this time. She frowned slightly.

"You do know it's absolutely stupid to go off for a secret meeting and not tell anyone you're going, right? I mean, honestly. There's a Death Eater at large. What if you were to get ambushed? We'd never know what happened to you. Do you want us to linger on in a neverending, sad wondering?"

"Draco knows."

"Oh," Jenna said, completely dropping her hurt face. "In that case, do you know how stupid it is to go off by yourself when there's a Death Eater at large? What if you were to get ambushed? We'd never know what happened to you, and-"

"Okay, okay!" Harry said, giving up. "Constant vigilance. Jenna, will you come watch my back for me while I have a secret meeting?"

"Why yes!" She wiped her mouth on her napkin and stood up. "How nice of you to ask."

Harry rolled his eyes. Girls sure were persistent.

They walked side by side out of the Great Hall and up the stairs to the fourth floor where the trophy room held all sorts of mementos of triumphs long ago.

"Sorry for being a little pushy back at the table," Jenna said as they went. "But I don't like the idea of you going off by yourself. I would have suggested Crabbe or Goyle, but I did want to have a private moment with you."

"What's on your mind?"

"I'm really worried about you. I know we've done our best to prepare you, but I just hope it's enough. I fear it isn't. And I'm not looking forward to feeling guilty if you get hurt."

"Hey," Harry said. "If I get hurt, it's because I wasn't quick enough or smart enough. You can't blame yourself. You're especially not allowed to do it before the sodding Task."

Jenna was quiet for a few moments. "My parents send their best wishes. They wanted me to save it for right before, but now's a good time."

"I appreciate it."

They waited in silence for Diggory to arrive. When he did, he was alone. His eyes flicked to Jenna for a moment, but quickly returned to Harry. Diggory wore his wand openly at his belt, and his hands hovered near it.

"Thanks for coming," Diggory said.

"Sure."

"I got your message about the dragons," Diggory continued. "It seemed a little far-fetched at first, and I was certain you were just trying to rattle me. The more I thought about it, though, the more it didn't seem so outlandish. I'd been imagining the Tasks as things I could accomplish with my current skills. I didn't even think they'd throw us in to a situation where we would have to make it up as we went. Dragons! Who prepares for that?"

Diggory had started emphasizing his words with his hands, but now he calmed down and looked at Harry square. "I just need to hear it from you. I want to look in to your eyes when you say it."

"It's dragons, Cedric."

Diggory inhaled sharply and let out a shuddering breath. "Yeah, I thought so. I just needed to be sure. Moody's on us about constant vigilance so much, I'm questioning everything now. That pretty Beauxbatons girl who was flirting with me the other day, for example. Did she fancy me, or was she fishing for Fleur? Before this year, I would have said the first. Now? Definitely the latter."

Harry really had better things to do than listen to Diggory talk about his dating life. "Good luck tomorrow, yeah?"

"You too."

Diggory left with a troubled expression on his face. He was no doubt sifting through everything he knew about dragons.

"Now that was something I didn't expect," Jenna observed.

"I'm full of surprises. I just don't think it was fair that nobody deigned to share that trivial fact with him. Krum and Fleur have their teachers helping; I've got Snape. Who does Diggory have?"

"He's got the noble Harry Potter, of course," Jenna replied with a giggle.

In a lower corridor on the way to a secret passage down to the ground floor, Neville Longbottom crossed their paths. He had gotten a fair bit taller since first year, not quite so chubby-seeming. He was still horrible at Potions, but he had disassociated himself from Weasley in all ways. He worked alone now, and he hadn't managed to melt a cauldron yet this year. He carried his head a bit higher around the castle. He didn't even look away when he first met Harry's eyes.

"Hello, Potter."

"Hello, Longbottom."

"All set for tomorrow then?"

"As much as I can be."

"Good."

There was an awkward silence.

"Listen, I know Ron's been acting like a prat lately-"

"Lately?" Jenna interjected.

"-but you've always been pretty square with me. I remember when you reversed Malfoy's Leg-Locker back in first year. I remember how you didn't want to fight on the train last year. Don't think I haven't noticed that your little gang doesn't bother me any. The person I see doesn't match with what you'd have to do to get yourself in, and I really don't think you did it. My gran's told me a lot of the history of the tournament, and I know it's no game. I just wanted to say good luck."

Harry's jaw dropped in amazement. Good wishes from a Gryffindor? He stifled an urge to glance up and see if there were cracks forming in the ceiling. Out of the corner of his eye, Jenna was similarly incredulous.

"Thanks, Longbottom. I mean that."

"I'll be cheering for Cedric tomorrow. Ron would have apoplexy if I didn't, but even he would rather see you win instead of Krum or Fleur, I think."

"Now that's just not true, Longbottom," Harry said. "Weasley hates me outright, and while we all saw him drooling over Fleur last night, I hear he's got quite the crush on Krum."

"Really?" Longbottom blinked in surprise. "Where'd you get that from?"

"His sister."

"Ah. Right. Well."

Longbottom looked very uncomfortable with the subject, so Harry let it drop. "Well, I've got to go prepare some more. Cheers, Longbottom."

"Cheers, Potter. Cheers, Moon."

"Ciao!"

to be continued...


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