Chapter 461
Harry blanched.
"Professor Dumbledore!" gasped Hermione as she hurried forward to help
their Headmaster, Harry following belatedly in her wake with the Professor's
wand in his hand buzzing with power as his thumb drifted over the mark at the
base.
"It's alright, Miss Granger," Dumbledore took her outstretched hand and
levered himself off the floor, "my robes have cushioning charms and no harm
was done." His rheumy eyes met Harry's. "An impressive disarming spell,
Harry."
"I am sorry, sir." Harry said miserably. "It's just…"
"No, no," Dumbledore waved off the apology, "I understand you are in a state
of constant vigilance!" His eyes twinkled as he brushed the dust off his bright
purple robes. "And quite right too! My own fault for believing two students
lurking in a classroom would have nefarious motivations. If I had known it was
you and Miss Granger I would have continued onto the Great Hall for the
Wand ceremony." His eyes flickered to the pink rose Hermione held.
Both Harry and Hermione went bright red.
"Your wand, Professor." Harry said hurriedly. He flipped the wand over and
offered it to the Headmaster.
Dumbledore paused and his keen gaze found Harry's again, a question in the
depths.
And it was then Harry felt a whisper of something – a call that resonated deep
inside of him – the wand calling out to his blood – Peverell blood. He could
sense the power of the wand, the connection with the family magic that
bubbled up eagerly to encourage him to accept the wand that it had once
made, and there was an echo from the cloak left lying in the classroom of
recognition and welcome.
But it wasn't the right time.
They had no idea still how the Hallows were supposed to work together and
Harry couldn't take the risk of owning a wand that was so powerful when there
was the slightest chance Voldemort could get his hands on it.
Harry firmed his lips, ignored the whisper in his mind, and nodded briskly. He
had a perfectly serviceable wand and the Elder wand was safest with
Dumbledore.
"Thank you, Harry." Dumbledore took his wand back and smiled somewhat
sadly at it.
The nudge of something faded and Harry shrugged the feeling away as
though trying to dislodge an itch.
Hermione threw Harry a curious look and he mouthed the word 'later' at her.
"Well, we should all be making our way to the Great Hall, I believe."
Dumbledore said chirpily. "After all, you and I are participating in today's
Ceremony, Harry."
More's the pity, Harry thought, before he nodded his agreement and gestured
back at the classroom. "I just have to pick up my cloak."
"Ah, then I shall leave you and Miss Granger to make your own way while I
check that all is in order." Dumbledore sighed. "We had not planned for this to
be in front of the whole school originally!"
He glided away and they watched him disappear around the corridor before
looking at each other nervously.
Harry started to chuckle at the memory of Dumbledore sailing through the air.
Hermione looked at him askance.
"It's not funny, Harry. I can't believe you disarmed Professor Dumbledore!"
She said, folding her arms over her chest.
"It's a little funny." Harry countered as he went back into the classroom and
picked up the silvery material he'd left on the floor. There was no time to
return it. "Dobby!"
Dobby popped in immediately. "You bes calling Dobby, Master Harry Potter,
sir?"
"We have to get to the Wand ceremony," Harry explained, "can you take my
cloak back to my room for me, please?"
"And my rose back to my dorm, please?" Hermione asked quickly. She smiled
at Harry. "I don't want it getting damaged."
Dobby hopped happily taking both items. "Dobby will take care of all." He
popped away again.
Harry held out his hand a little anxiously but Hermione simply rolled her eyes
and took it with another shy smile. He was giddy as they walked to the Great
Hall, discussing the history behind the ceremony that Hermione and her
researchers had uncovered. By the time they entered the wide doors, Harry
was reassured that it was a fairly straightforward examination of his wand
without the possibility of any spirits manifesting or strange things happening.
"Harry!" Rita swooped on them as soon as he and Hermione crossed the
threshold into the hall. Her eyes glittered behind her oversized specs,
arrowing in on their joined hands. "Is there something that you want to tell the
readers of the Daily Prophet?"
"Yes," Sirius was suddenly beside Harry, his hand heavy on his shoulder, "he
wants to tell you that he can't take part in conversations with the press without
his guardian present, Rita."
Rita wasn't phased by the rebuke. "Lord Black," she said dryly, "what a
surprise to see you here." She motioned at the other Champions already
gathered up at the front of the hall. "I didn't realise that the families of the
Champions were allowed to be present, or have they made a special
exception for you?"
Harry kept his face impassive knowing Sirius was more than capable of
handling the question with its nasty undertone.
"The other Champions are of age," Sirius pointed out, "and therefore don't
require an adult to safeguard their interests; Harry is still a minor and
therefore when appropriate will have a guardian present at official tournament
meetings." He smiled sharply.
Rita gave a weak smile in response and made her way back to the other
journalists.
"Ready, Harry?" Sirius asked him quietly.
Harry grimaced but nodded. He felt Hermione squeeze his fingers before
letting go.
"It'll be fine, Harry." She promised and swiftly headed in the direction of the
Gryffindor table to where an avid Lavender and Parvati seemed to be awaiting
her, along with a smug looking Ron and Neville.
Harry was ushered forward by Sirius and he missed the dark looks of
consternation and understanding from his stalkers; the disappointment that
had Ginny lowering her head, hiding behind a fall of red hair. Instead, Harry
fell into line beside Viktor who acknowledged him with a grim smile; Fleur
bowed her golden head a touch, and Cedric did what Cedric had spent the
previous week doing; he ignored Harry.
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Chapter 462
Harry huffed out a breath and breathed in slowly, refusing to allow himself to
get frustrated in front of everyone.
"Ah, excellent!" Dumbledore spoke up loudly, silencing the Hall immediately.
"Now that we are all gathered, we can begin!" His gaze swept around the
room and the doors to the Great Hall banged shut as Hagrid closed them.
"We had initially intended this to be a quiet affair, but with recent
developments it was felt more appropriate to make this a public event for our
three schools and, of course, the illustrious members of the press." He smiled
benevolently to the right where Rita, Luna's father and Esmeralda Goose sat
on a narrow bench. "So, the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony dates back
quite a number of years and is where the Champions' wands are examined to
ensure fairness. I am pleased to introduce Master Wand-maker Ollivander
who will do the examinations."
The old wizard stepped forward and bowed to the politely applauding
students. "Thank you. If I could see Mister Krum's wand first, please?"
Viktor stepped forward, resplendent in deep burgundy robes. He handed his
wand to Ollivander briskly.
"A Gregorovitch." Ollivander lifted the wand examining it carefully. "Hornbeam
and…dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches, thicker than I would have
made it. Good condition, I see." He made a jabbing motion and a flock of birds
erupted from the end of the wand and out of an open window. "Good, good. A
fine wand, Mister Krum, and one most appropriate for a man with a penchant
for the air."
The wand was handed back and Krum moved to the other side of Ollivander.
"Miss Delacour?" Ollivander waved her forward and took her proffered wand
with a gallant bow. "Oh what a lovely wand!" He carefully lifted it to the light
and made a gleeful sound under his breath. "Well, well. A Limone creation
with rosewood and a Veela hair?"
"My Grandmother." Fleur confirmed, her accent heavy.
"Rather inflexible but…" Ollivander made the same jabbing motion as he had
with Krum's and a shower of dragonflies emerged, flying over the crowd
before disappearing. "Fire and air!" He said delightedly. "How remarkable but
definitely appropriate for one of your beauty, young lady."
Fleur took her wand back with a pleased smile lifting her rosebud lips.
Harry tried not to fidget as Ollivander called for Cedric.
"Now this I recognise! My own creation!" Ollivander beamed at Cedric who
beamed back. "Ash and the tail hair of a unicorn stallion. I remember it well!"
He gave Cedric an approving glance. "You've taken excellent care of it, Mister
Diggory."
Cedric continued beaming.
Ollivander made the jabbing motion for the third time and a single dove flew
from the wand disappearing into the rafters of the Great Hall. "Ah, earth and
air; a bird suggesting a pure heart and a desire for peace." His shrewd eyes
met Cedric's. "You would be wise to listen to its message."
Two slashes of red appeared across Cedric's cheeks and he swiftly took back
the wand to make his way to the other Champions.
"Mister Potter."
Harry tried to ignore the churn of nerves that had settled heavily in his
stomach. He tried to ignore the fact that everyone was looking at him and
handed his wand over.
"Oh my," Ollivander said, "I remember this wand very well." His intent look fell
upon Harry. "Holly and a phoenix feather. It has seen battle since we last met,
Mister Potter."
It was all he could do to nod.
"I did say that you could accomplish great things with this wand." Ollivander
said quietly. "And so you have."
Harry couldn't quite manage a smile.
Ollivander frowned and he peered at the wand, darted a glance at Harry, and
then one in the direction of Dumbledore. "Remarkable." He murmured before
he jabbed the wand in a now familiar motion.
Fire shot out of the tip, forming a large blazing image of a phoenix in flight
almost the height of the Great Hall. Harry's mouth fell open and he could hear
gasps and shouts from the students and teachers. And as suddenly as it had
appeared, the image disappeared leaving nothing but a trail of smoke.
"Fire and air symbolising rebirth, rising from the ashes." Ollivander blinked as
he handed Harry his wand back. "You are a truly impressive wizard, Mister
Potter. Great things indeed."
"Thank you?" Harry muttered uncertainly and quickly stepped over to the
others.
"Are my fellow judges satisfied that the wands have been examined and
cleared for use?" Dumbledore asked loudly before the quiet mutterings in the
Hall could become actual babble.
Madame Maxime nodded with a large smile, Karkaroff gave a dismissive
wave, and Ludo Bagman grinned broadly towards the press as he gave a
thumbs-up gesture.
"Then the ceremony is over!" Dumbledore clapped his hands and dismissed
the gathered students.
Harry searched out Hermione and they exchanged a quick smile before she
left, flanked by Ron and Neville. Unfortunately Harry had to suffer through
Bagman's insistence on a posed photo of all of the Champions before he
finally got to leave with Sirius.
"So," Sirius sketched a privacy bubble as they walked to the tower, "I'm sure I
don't really need to ask since you were holding hands with her and all
but…how did it go?"
Harry smiled and knew he probably had a fairly sappy expression on his face
but he didn't care. "She said yes!"
Sirius grinned at him. "Way to go, Harry!"
"And she understands about the date being delayed until after the first task."
Harry added. "She was great about everything."
"I'm pleased for you, Harry." Sirius said warmly, slinging an arm around his
shoulder.
"There was kind of a thing with Professor Dumbledore?" Harry hurried out the
explanation of what had happened and by the end of it they were in their
quarters and Sirius was howling with laughter.
It was good to see Sirius laughing for once. He hadn't done that enough
recently, Harry mused, feeling guilty even though he knew it wasn't really his
fault.
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Chapter 463
A knock had them both turning for the door. Sirius waved Harry back and went
to answer it. Minerva and Ollivander were on the other side.
"My apologies, Sirius," Minerva said, "but Mister Ollivander was insistent on
speaking with you and Mister Potter."
Harry's eyes widened and he could see Sirius morphing into his Lord Black
persona as he considered the request and agreed to it, inviting Minerva and
Ollivander into the room with an offer of refreshments.
Five minutes later, they were drinking tea, compliments of Dobby, and
Ollivander's discreet suggestion of privacy had been dismissed with Sirius's
confirmation that "Minnie had their complete confidence" to allow Minerva to
stay.
Ollivander set his cup down. "You'll have to forgive me if I come directly to the
point."
"Directness would be appreciated." Sirius countered, his expression guarded.
Harry found himself the object of Ollivander's unsettling stare once more.
"Mister Potter," Ollivander began, "am I right in assuming that you recently
came into possession of the Headmaster's wand?"
Harry glanced at Minerva before he nodded. "I, um, accidentally disarmed him
earlier today when he surprised me."
Minerva rolled her eyes, an exasperated breath escaping her, but she didn't
rebuke him and Harry relaxed a touch.
"Hmmm," Ollivander's eyes sparkled briefly with amusement before sobering
again, "do you remember that I once told you that the wand chooses the
wizard, Mister Potter?"
Harry nodded, a sinking feeling in his gut at where the discussion was
headed.
"The Headmaster's wand chose you when you proved your worth and
disarmed him." Ollivander continued.
Sirius tensed beside him.
"I doubt that you could have failed to notice since the wand in question is
powerful enough to make its choice known." Ollivander said quietly. "Yet
somehow the wand remains with the Headmaster and you are facing a
difficult tournament with a greatly inferior wand."
Harry bristled on behalf of his perfectly fine holly and phoenix wand.
"Wands don't change their allegiance that way." Minerva spoke up sharply.
"Ordinarily, no," Ollivander said with a slow smile, "but the Elder wand is no
ordinary wand."
Everyone froze and Harry knew his own thoughts of should they deny it,
should they admit they knew, were running through Sirius's head.
Sirius met Harry's eyes briefly before he sighed and acknowledged
Ollivander's words with a tilt of his head.
Ollivander blinked. "You are all aware of the significance of the Headmaster's
wand?"
"We are." Sirius replied.
The wand-maker looked shaken. "Then, you gave it back to the Headmaster
knowing of its power?"
Harry shot a questioning look at Sirius for permission before he nodded. "The
wand is safest with the Headmaster."
"Remarkable." Ollivander said, staring at Harry. "It was remarkable when I
thought you had given up the wand without knowing but to give it up when you
do know…even more remarkable. I assume you felt its pull?"
Harry settled for another nod, unwilling to explain the exact nature of the pull
that he'd felt. There was a niggling feeling that he only had to focus and he
would feel it again, its seductive whisper across his heart.
"I'm not sure I understand how the allegiance thing works," Harry admitted,
vaguely remembering that Ollivander had said something in the memory he'd
watched from Sirius's grandfather.
Ollivander smiled slightly patronisingly. "Wands choose the wizard because
the magical element within them resonates with the wizard's own magical
energy, the wood acting as a grounding force to allow the transference back
and forth. Family members usually have similar energy so it's not unusual for
children to be able to use their parents' wands or some other relative's.
Generally, it's unusual for an opponent and non-relative in a duel situation to
be a better magical match for a wand to change its allegiance. It has
happened but rarely."
And OK, Harry thought he got that.
"But the Elder wand doesn't work that way." Sirius stated.
"It is an unique wand without a core magical element, but a powerful wand
that understands power." Ollivander expanded, with a gesture meant to
convey the more the better. "And so, if it feels one wizard has more than
another, say because it was taken in a disarming spell, it sides with that
wizard and will not work for the one who holds it if he tries to use it against the
wand's chosen master. It is said to be the reason why it always ends up with
the victor of the duels it has participated in."
"So it has no true allegiance?" Minerva questioned, a worried frown creasing
her forehead.
"In some tales of the wand, that is the theory. However, one origin story says
the wand has no allegiance except to the blood that runs through it."
Ollivander's gaze slid to Harry. "The blood of the Peverells – your bloodline."
Which would explain the pull Harry had felt.
"Now that it's found you, Mister Potter, I rather suspect the wand won't give its
allegiance to anyone else." Ollivander finished.
So presumably it wouldn't give its allegiance to Voldemort, Harry mused; that
was good news.
"But there's not really an issue with the Headmaster continuing to have the
wand, is there?" Minerva asked anxiously.
"Oh, I dare say it will continue to work for the Headmaster if not as well as it
has done, as well as his previous wand." Ollivander said brightly. "He is a
powerful wizard in his own right." His gaze moved back to Harry. "If you feel
the wand is safer with him and wish to use another, well, that is a remarkable
choice and perhaps only one who has Peverell blood could make – to refuse
the power the wand offers you. But I would caution you that you may need the
wand, especially in these dangerous times."
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Chapter 464
Ollivander held up a hand before anyone could say anything.
"I see the signs and I know the one who wields the brother wand to your own
rises again." He gestured. "I suspect he is behind your tournament entry."
Harry looked helplessly at Sirius.
"If Harry is to face Voldemort," Sirius began, "which believe me will only be
happening over my dead body, but ignoring that, you truly believe Harry using
the Elder wand is worth the risk of it falling into Voldemort's hand?"
"I understand the concern, but regardless that I rather think that the Elder
wand wielded by a Peverell would be practically invincible," Ollivander replied
smartly, "there is the pressing concern that Harry's own wand would be
useless against its brother wand."
Sirius stiffened. "Explain."
"When two wands containing magical elements of the same creature are set
in opposition, there is a battle for dominance that takes place between the
wands." Ollivander said swiftly. "The wands are locked until the stronger
overcomes the weaker. At that moment, priori incancatem occurs with the
defeated wand spilling out its secrets. A normal duel is out of the question."
"I can't use my wand in a duel with Voldemort?" Harry checked, a sinking
feeling in his stomach because he liked his wand – he loved his wand – he
didn't want to have to use a different wand if he was fighting Voldemort.
"I'm afraid it wouldn't do much except…" Ollivander spread his hands in lieu of
repeating himself.
"Great." Harry muttered.
Sirius reached over and clasped his shoulder briefly. "At least thanks to Mister
Ollivander we know now." He turned to the wand-maker. "Thank you."
Ollivander waved away the gratitude. "There is one tale that if you truly need
it, the Elder wand would come to its rightful master by calling it with a simple
thought." He smiled. "If the Elder wand ever does come into your possession,
Mister Potter, I would appreciate the opportunity to examine it."
Sirius and Minerva hustled Ollivander away in some gracious manner that
didn't make it look like they were hustling him away, leaving Harry
contemplating the information Ollivander had imparted.
"We can get you another wand." Sirius's voice wrenched Harry from the
tumbling single thought of 'what now?'
"I like my wand." Harry sighed and flopped back against the sofa.
"There's always the Elder wand." Sirius said, sitting down beside him. "And
frankly we always thought you might have to use it since its one of the three
Hallows and if they are the power he knows not…"
"Yeah." Harry murmured. "It's just…every time something goes right,
something else seems to go wrong."
Sirius patted his shoulder, understandingly. "My advice is to focus on the
positive."
Hermione.
Harry started smiling as he remembered their conversation; how she'd said
she liked him; her absolute confidence in him.
"And there we go." Sirius said amused. "I recall your Dad had the exact same
sappy expression." He got up. "Well, my work here is done. I'm going to call
Remus and update him on the ceremony and everything."
Harry pushed himself out of the sofa and made for his room. He had some
reading to do on magical creatures and then…and then he had a date to plan.
.....
15th November 1994
It was rare for Hermione to miscalculate, but when Dobby popped in beside
her and prevented her from touching the avalanche of mail just delivered to
her by a flock of owls, she was prepared to admit that perhaps she had
grossly underestimated the public interest in her relationship with Harry.
"You don't need to help, Dobby," Hermione said briskly, "I'll be fine." She
ignored the doubt that crept into the back of her mind as she surveyed the
stack of mail.
"Lord Black is ordering Dobby to be reviewing Master Harry Potter's Grangy's
mail." Dobby replied with a firmness that took her aback.
Hermione conceded. Sirius was her magical guardian and if he really thought
it was best…
Neville breathed a sigh of relief as the elf popped away with the mail. "Thank
Merlin. He'll make sure it's safe and get the mail that you'll want to read to
you."
She bit her lip. She hadn't considered that there was danger in the mail, but
then she should have done considering some of the dark looks she had
received since she and Harry had turned up to the wand ceremony holding
hands. Some of those looks had turned even darker between the newspaper
articles the day before outright declaring Hermione's status as Harry's first
girlfriend and Harry quite happily walking to all their classes holding
Hermione's hand.
A blush rose as she remembered her own delight in holding Harry's hand, but
more, what it truly meant about how Harry felt about her.
"Merlin!" Ron muttered. "You're thinking about Harry again, aren't you? You
get the same dippy look on your face every time."
Hermione turned to glare at him. "I do not have a dippy look!"
Ron pointed his knife at her. "Yes, you do." He grimaced. "Harry's just the
same."
She pushed down the urge to argue, reminding herself that the change in the
trio's dynamic was hardest on Ron and that she and Harry had promised to
make it easy for him. Her eyes slid to Lavender who was staring across at
Ron with her own dippy look. What they needed was some way of getting Ron
together with Lavender, Hermione determined. That way Ron wouldn't feel left
out.
"We should make a move or we'll be late for Potions." Hermione said out loud,
not revealing her other motive for moving - her want to see Harry.
Ron grumbled but he pushed the last of the toast in his mouth, brushed the
crumbs from the front of his school robes and gathered his bag.
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Chapter 465
It seemed to be a signal for the rest of the fourth year Gryffindors; every single
one of them abandoned the breakfast table at the same time, falling into a
loose huddle of students as they made their way out of the Great Hall.
Hermione's face lit up as she spotted Harry coming down the main staircase.
He walked over and took her hand without any hint of self-consciousness,
instead aiming a smile at Ron and Neville as he greeted them.
"Sirius said he's put a mail redirect on you for anyone but the House of Black
and your parents," Harry said, shifting his satchel with his free hand, "and that
if something does get through, you should call for Dobby to take care of it."
Hermione sighed. "A mail redirect? Does he really think it's necessary?"
Harry shrugged. "I have one."
Which meant yes.
"I didn't think people would be that interested." Hermione commented. "I
guess I should have realised that our dating would get some publicity."
"Some?!" snorted Ron, drawing both of their attention. "The paper was full of
'The Boy Who Lived Finds First Love' yesterday. It was sickening."
"Skeeter." Harry muttered darkly.
"It wasn't just her," Neville reminded him, "that Goose woman had a
paragraph about you and Hermione in her article too."
Harry pushed his glasses up his nose. "At least Luna's Dad focused on the
tournament and the wand ceremony."
"Hmmm," Hermione said, remembering the article with a frown, "I'm not
certain that I entirely agree with him about the symbolism and origins of the
creatures that appeared from the wands during the tests."
"A load of old nonsense if you ask me." Ron agreed as they took the corridor
into the dungeons. "Mind you, mate, that flaming phoenix thing was very
impressive."
"It was the most powerful symbol of all of the Champions." Neville cheerfully
chimed in.
"I liked the dragonflies." Lavender said behind them. "They were very pretty
not like those birds from Viktor Krum's wand."
"They were hawks!" Ron said defensively. "They were brilliant." He motioned
toward Harry. "I mean, not as brilliant as Harry's but pretty decent."
"There's a debate about whether the birds that appeared from Viktor's wand
were hawks or sparrows." Dean commented loudly.
Ron bristled. "They were hawks."
Hermione shot him an amused look. "Does it matter?"
"Hawks are better than sparrows." Ron retorted.
"Symbolically that's true." Lavender said supportively.
"Thank you!" Ron declared.
Lavender blushed and Hermione resolved again to do something even if the
thought of playing match-maker horrified her.
They all automatically slowed as they neared the Potions lab and its locked
door, shifting seamlessly into a line of waiting students.
Hermione did a tempus charm and frowned. "We're early."
"You're the one who hustled us out of breakfast." Ron reminded her, shuffling
beside Harry. "I didn't even get a chance to read my letter from Charlie."
"Well, everyone was staring." Hermione admitted awkwardly.
She wasn't surprised when Harry squeezed her hand and gave a sympathetic
grimace. He understood how disconcerting it was to be the focus of the whole
school.
"It'll blow over." Neville predicted. "The first task is next week. Everyone will
focus on that then."
"Nev's right," Ron said supportively by way of an apology, "you'll be old news
in no time."
"Good grief," Draco's drawl travelled down the length of the corridor as the
Slytherins stalked up from the dungeon end, "who knew Gryffindors could be
this eager for Potions?"
"Morning, Draco." Harry said calmly. Hermione followed Harry and nodded a
greeting at Theo as he came to stand beside Draco. The two were strangely
becoming a bit of a double act although Draco's old cohorts of Crabbe and
Goyle still tagged along like lost puppies.
"Mother said she'd see me at dinner on Friday?" Draco adjusted the cuff of his
robes and Hermione marvelled at the flash of red and gold. A lot of the
Slytherins wore Cedric's although some wore both.
"Yeah," Harry said, "Sirius is reinstituting the family dinners. Andy and Ted will
be there too."
Hermione noticed the flash of discomfort that rippled through most of the
waiting Slytherins and hid a smile.
Pansy suddenly appeared, pushing past Crabbe and Goyle in an attempt to
wiggle into place beside Draco. "Am I late?" She said breathlessly.
"No," Draco sneered, "something you should have realised since we're all still
stood outside of the lab, Parkinson."
The evident dislike didn't seem to phase Pansy who wrinkled her small
upturned nose and shot a malevolent look in Hermione's direction. Hermione
stiffened automatically in response.
"Rita Skeeter was interviewing me." Pansy gloated. "She wanted to know all
about Granger."
All chatter in the corridor stopped abruptly.
Hermione tightened her grip on Harry as he drew away from the wall, his
anger blazing out of his eyes, and gave a small shake of her head to try and
prevent him from doing anything rash. He stopped as Draco shifted.
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Chapter 466
"Are you really that stupid?" Draco bit out.
Pansy tore her gaze away from Harry and looked wide-eyed at Draco's
annoyed pointed features.
Hermione breathed an inward sigh of relief as Harry relaxed a touch seeing
that Draco would deal with it.
"Draco…" Pansy gathered up the remnants of her courage and self-delusion
and carried on. "You can't deny that you'll enjoy seeing the truth about
Granger in tomorrow's paper!"
"I can deny it since your truth probably involves insulting Granger who is a
member of the House of Black as am I." Draco snarled.
"Well, at least we know who to point Lord Black at when he reads all about an
unnamed source at Hogwarts." Theo slipped in slyly.
Pansy paled but she remained defiant. "I stand by what I said."
"Then you won't mind coming with me this lunchtime to meet with Lord Black
and inform him of your indiscretion in relation to his ward, Miss Parkinson."
Snape's smooth tone had them all jumping as they took in his looming
presence.
How he had sneaked up on them all was a mystery but Hermione was
pleased to see him despite the pounding of her heart at his surprise entry. His
words sank in and she exchanged an incredulous look with Harry and Ron
who both looked as shocked as she felt at Snape's rebuke of Pansy, a
Slytherin.
"Professor Snape!" Pansy squeaked out. "Sir, I don't think…"
"That much is apparent, Miss Parkinson," Snape sneered fiercely, "and it is
entirely unacceptable in a Slytherin. The punishment will stand." His dark eyes
roamed over the corridor and landed on Harry's hand holding Hermione's.
Hermione shifted nervously for some kind of derisive comment but Snape
turned, unlocked the Potions lab with a wave of his wand, and stormed inside
the room. The waiting students all hurried in after him and Harry let go of her
hand as they took their usual places.
Hermione regretted the loss but she focused her mind on the potion and
bundled her worries and delight about her relationship with Harry to the back
of her mind.
Time moved slowly in the tense Potions lab with only the occasional sound of
a beaker clinking against a cauldron or the grinding of ingredients. Snape
stared impassively at the students from the front of the lab.
Hermione stirred her mixture clockwise three times and was satisfied when it
turned a vibrant blue. It was almost ready for the pickled newts eyes and
then…
Pansy screamed.
Hermione's head whipped round to look at the Slytherin girl's bench and went
wide with horror at the pink bubbling cloud that streamed out of the cauldron
and engulfed Pansy. If it came near to anyone else…
"Arrestus!" Harry snapped out.
The cauldron and pink cloud stopped as though someone had hit a pause
button on a TV show. It was a potions time spell that the tutor they'd had in the
Summer had taught them, Hermione realised absently as she breathed out in
relief. Usually it was used to hold the potion at a perfect moment if there was
a delay in getting an ingredient but it worked just as well as a stop-gap
emergency measure.
Milicent, who had taken a large step back from her own cauldron, looked up at
Harry, stunned. "Where's…where's your wand, Potter?"
A bright red Harry lowered his empty hand.
"Eyes back on your own potions!" Snape snapped, swooping over to banish
the cauldron and dispel the cloud which released an unconscious Pansy in a
thump to the floor. "Bulstrode, take Parkinson to the infirmary!"
Milicent's eyes flickered to Draco in front of her but he paid her no attention.
Hermione's eyes narrowed and she tuned out Snape's verbal disembowelling
of Dean over his knife work. She could well believe that Draco was
responsible. He'd thrown stuff into Harry's and Neville's cauldrons enough
times for her to know he was capable of it. It was unlikely he'd done it as
revenge for Pansy prattling to Skeeter though. Hermione figured he'd done it
more out of his own irritation with his former sycophant.
She carefully added the pickled newt eyes, stirred five times anti-clockwise
and sniffed at the smell of apples wafting up from the potion as it shifted from
vibrant blue to green.
"Your time is up!" Snape stated brusquely. "Bottle your potions and submit
them for marking!"
Hermione quickly ladled her potion into a vial already neatly labelled. She
stoppered it and placed it carefully on Snape's bench, sneaking a look at
Harry's potion (a slightly paler green than hers which meant he'd added just a
tad too little of the newt eyes) and Ron's (a dark blue which meant he had
been too slow at getting the newt eyes in and possibly had stirred too much
before he'd added them).
The clean-up was perfunctory and within moments the Gryffindor and
Slytherin fourth years were spilling out into the corridor and on their way to
Runes. Hermione reached for Harry's hand again and they exchanged
pleased glances.
She would, Hermione thought wistfully, be very open to doing more than
holding hands. Her mind drifted back to The Moment (as she had labelled it in
her own head) in the classroom when she had thought he was going to kiss
her, when she had wanted him to kiss her and…and instead they'd been
interrupted by the Headmaster. She tried not to blush again.
There really hadn't been an opportunity to kiss since.
Both she and Harry had spent the previous day surrounded by other people,
namely Ron, and there had been no privacy to sneak a kiss. And Hermione
hadn't wanted to sneak a kiss. She wanted her first kiss with anyone, let alone
Harry, to be special. She thought Harry felt the same and that was why he
hadn't pressed her or tried to get her alone beyond wanting to keep his
promise to Ron to make things easy for him. She hoped he wanted to kiss her
as much as she wanted to kiss him.
Runes was always enjoyable. The fourth years had tucked into the back in
their own small group from the fifth years. Hermione took her usual seat by
Daphne as Harry slid in beside Anthony.
"And Rita thought you're both joined at the hip." Daphne's amused whisper
had Hermione smiling as they settled into the work.
The four of them chatted about their latest Runes assignment all the way to
lunch where Hermione had to stop holding hands with Harry in order to eat
but she took solace in the fact that Harry was actually at the meal. She
understood Sirius's dictate that Harry have breakfast and dinner in their rooms
but she missed him and his conversation. Neville and Ron slid into seats
beside them with a thump.
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Chapter 467
"I tell you Trelawney gets more mental every lesson." Ron complained,
reaching for the platter of battered fish.
Hermione gave him a disapproving frown for not choosing the healthier
options. "What was she predicting now?"
"Probably my death still." Harry muttered beside her. He pushed a chip
through a puddle of ketchup.
"No, she went dizzy over some incense thing she lit and started babbling
about…" Ron paused in scooping another mountain of chips onto his plate.
"What was she babbling about?"
Neville swallowed the forkful of shepherd's pie he'd picked up. "Something to
do with bugs?"
"She's completely buggy if you ask me." Ron dived into his food with gusto.
Neville nodded. "She was very loopy today."
"I don't know how you stand that subject." Hermione admitted. "Mind you,
Luna is very complimentary about Firenze."
"Centaurs are renowned for their divination prowess." Neville agreed. "I wish
he was teaching us."
"Hmnfph." Ron waved his fork expressively.
They all stared at him.
He swallowed. "Me too."
"Where are Lavender and Parvati?" asked Hermione. The two girls loved
Trelawney. She didn't think Lavender's crush on Ron would have prevented
her from defending her favourite teacher.
"They stayed back to comfort Trelawney." Neville explained. He nudged Harry.
"What are you doing this afternoon while we're in Charms?"
Harry grinned at him. "I'm going over to Hagrid's. He's giving me a special
tutorial on magical creatures."
"Well, if you survive that, the first task will be a breeze." Neville said with an
answering grin.
"Luckily he can't give you a practical in some of the more dangerous
creatures." Hermione said with relief because as much as she loved Hagrid,
Merlin knew he had a complete lack of clarity about the danger some of the
creatures posed.
Harry waved a chip at her in agreement.
"What are you doing in Charms tonight with Professor Flitwick?" Hermione
changed the subject, partially because she wanted Harry to have a lunch
without talking about the tournament and partially because she was dying to
know what his individual lessons were like.
"Advanced Summoning Charms." Harry said with a shrug. "We covered the
basic theory with the power versus magical will essay, remember? And in the
Summer I managed the basic charm which you guys are doing soon, so he
thinks I'll understand enough to be able to do the practical."
"I wish we were doing advanced summoning charms." Hermione mused
wistfully.
"We don't have enough power though for the more serious ones, do we?"
Neville argued. "I mean, according to the theories that we had to read for that
essay?"
"Exactly." Hermione nodded. "Our magical power isn't mature enough. Harry's
an exception."
"That's me." Harry muttered. "Although the theory is that my power is still
maturing."
"Don't take this the wrong way," Neville said, "but that's quite scary."
Hermione was about to say something reassuring when Ron groaned
dramatically.
"This is a load of bollocks!" Ron said loudly.
The three of them turned to look at him.
He waved a stained piece of parchment at them. "Charlie's letter. It's complete
bollocks. He goes on about how he's back in the country to work but can't say
on what because it's all very secret and he'll see me on the twenty-fourth
although he seems more worried about telling Harry." He slapped the letter
down on the table and stared at Harry suddenly pale. "You don't
think…maybe, maybe Charlie has a crush on you?"
Harry's eyes widened with alarm.
A suspicion gathered in Hermione's head and she grabbed the letter,
sketching a privacy bubble around the four of them.
"Oy!" Ron spluttered.
"Ron," Hermione read out loud, "just wanted to tell you and Harry – Harry is
underlined – that I was back for a while for work – work is also underlined.
Can't say much more about it because of all the secrecy around this particular
event but suffice to say I'll see you on the twenty-fourth. Don't forget to tell
Harry. Charlie."
Harry's fork clanged as he dropped it on his plate and Hermione knew that
he'd reached the same conclusion she had.
"Oh Merlin!" Ron lowered his head into his hands. "He does have a crush on
Harry! As if it isn't bad enough Ginny being nuts about him!"
Neville choked on his shepherd's pie.
Hermione lowered the letter and looked at Ron pityingly. "Charlie doesn't have
a crush on Harry."
"Hermione, I know Harry's your boyfriend now and you don't want to think it,
but you can't deny that it looks bad." Ron said, raising his head to look at her.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him and waved the letter at him. "He's trying to
tell us something, you idiot!"
"What?" demanded Ron crossly, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at
her.
"Dragons." Harry managed to get the word out past pale lips and Hermione
couldn't blame him; it was utterly horrifying. "He's trying to tell us he'll be here
for work on the twenty-fourth for the first task. It's dragons."
"Blimey." Ron said, going white under his freckles.
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Chapter 468
Neville pushed away the remainder of his lunch. "They wouldn't seriously
think about using dragons, would they?"
"They've been used before." Hermione said with a lump in her throat, sliding
her hand towards Harry.
Harry tangled their fingers together on top of the table.
"Are you sure he just doesn't have a crush on Harry?" Ron asked pleadingly.
"I guess I know what Hagrid should test me on this afternoon then." Harry
said, ignoring Ron.
Hermione frowned, because – yes, it was good in one way to know but if they
knew then… "Isn't this cheating?"
"It's not exactly against the rules." Harry said defensively. "The teachers and
Headmasters can't tell the Champions the specifics of the tasks, but there's
nothing that explicitly states that someone neutral can't find out and inform the
Champions." He sighed. "I think Viktor knows?"
"You do?"
"He does?"
Ron and Neville spoke at the same time.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Actually, I think he was trying to give me the hint
in our last Quidditch practice. He asked me if I'd ever seen a dragon before."
He pulled a face that clearly said 'I'm an idiot.' "I thought he'd heard a rumour
about that whole thing with Norbert so told him the story."
"I might have known Karkaroff would find a way around the rules." Ron
snorted in disgust.
"It's not fair on Fleur or Cedric though, is it?" Hermione pointed out.
"That depends on how you view the competition." Neville said, recovering his
appetite enough to reach for a slice of apple pie since the desserts had
appeared. "You could take the view that information is intelligence, and an
advantage."
Harry hummed. "I want a fair competition though and while I know Charlie
dropping a big enough hint in a letter to Ron for me to get it isn't cheating per
se…"
"It still feels like you got the information unfairly." Neville poured enough
custard into his bowl to drown the pie.
"Maybe that's why Viktor tried to tell me too." Harry mused, untangling their
hands as he helped himself to treacle tart. "Maybe he thought it wasn't entirely
fair the way he found out and tried to tell the other Champions."
Hermione eschewed the desserts and picked up a bunch of grapes to snack
on. "So what do you want to do?"
Harry sighed and swallowed some tart. "I think I'm going to talk to Viktor and
see if he's actually told Fleur and Cedric already. If he has then…well, I don't
need to do anything. But if he hasn't…" his lips firmed, "I'll tell them."
"I'm not sure Diggory will believe you." Ron said baldly, tucking into an
enormous slice of cake.
"It doesn't matter if he does or he doesn't," Harry replied, "I'll know I did the
right thing and tried to tell him."
Neville motioned with his spoon in agreement.
Hermione beamed her own approval at Harry. "So, I'll pull together everything
about dragons and we'll go over it tonight after your lesson with Professor
Flitwick?"
Harry agreed and changed the subject to Neville's on-going relationship with
Hannah. Hermione couldn't blame him.
Dragons.
Who had thought that was a good idea, Hermione thought worriedly. Had they
been part of the task before Voldemort had been given the chance to change
the parameters or had he added them?
It was a thought that stayed with her after Harry had escorted her to Charms
before leaving for his own lesson with Hagrid. It distracted her all through the
lesson and it was a relief when the session ended. She had Arithmancy to get
to and she waved a goodbye to Ron and Neville outside the classroom before
heading in the opposite direction.
She'd barely got to the bottom of the staircase she needed when she heard
the shout of a spell above her. She ducked but not quick enough and the spell
caught her full in the face sending her sprawling backwards.
"Granger!" Daphne hurried over to her and helped her sit up as a small crowd
gathered around.
"Did you see who did it?" Lisa Turpin asked.
"It came from above." Somebody else murmured. "I saw the spell light come
down the stairs."
Hermione shook her head and went to answer but a strange sensation
stopped her. Her hand flew to her mouth where her front teeth were growing
rapidly like she was some kind of demented chipmunk. She looked at Daphne
with horror.
"Infirmary." Daphne said briskly. "Come on." She pulled Hermione to her feet
and supported her as her teeth continued to grow. She all but hustled
Hermione into the ward and yelled for the nurse.
Hermione barely took in the sight of Pansy still out cold in one of the infirmary
beds as Madame Pomfrey appeared from her office and pointed her wand
straight at Hermione. Her teeth stopped growing and Hermione breathed out a
small sigh of relief.
"Nasty spell that." Madame Pomfrey said. "But we'll have you fixed in a jiffy."
She handed Hermione a mirror. "Just wave when you want me to stop."
Hermione saw her front teeth receding and she felt her chest seize at the
realisation that she could fix her teeth. Ever since she'd grown her front teeth
she'd always thought they were slightly over large despite her parents'
assurance that they were fine. They weren't fine and Hermione couldn't resist
the temptation to let Pomfrey continue a moment longer than she needed to,
ensuring her teeth looked perfect.
"Good, good." Pomfrey did another diagnostic spell. "You've had a bit of a
shock so you're excused from lessons for the rest of the day. Go back to your
dorm and rest. I'll inform Professor McGonagall." She looked at Daphne
suspiciously.
"Daphne wasn't responsible," Hermione said quickly, "she helped me."
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Chapter 469
"Ten points to Slytherin then." Madame Pomfrey said with a sniff. "Off you
both go."
"Thank you." Hermione said to Daphne as they got out of the infirmary, but
frowned when she fell into step beside her. "You don't have to walk me to the
tower, you're going to be late for Arithmancy as it is."
Daphne made a dismissive clucking sound. "Potter would have my head if you
weren't escorted after being attacked."
"Oh Lord." Hermione murmured with dismay. Harry was going to go nuts
and…and would he reconsider them going out? She hoped not. She really
hoped not. Maybe she'd have to convince him she was fine being a target;
that she'd known she'd be a target agreeing to go out with him. And there was
no harm done – in fact her teeth looked better than ever.
They were barely half way there when Ron and Neville barrelled around the
corner and almost ran into them.
"Hermione!" Ron threw himself at her and hugged her.
"Oomph!" Hermione patted his back awkwardly. "I'm fine, Ron."
Ron swiftly shifted back and nodded. "What happened? Katie Bell said you'd
been attacked on the stairs and…"
"Teeth growing spell." Daphne interrupted him sharply. "Malicious and nasty
but not dangerous. Pomfrey said she's to rest up."
Neville nodded at her. "You should get to class. We'll take her from here."
Daphne brushed her hair off her face and nodded at Hermione. "See me
tomorrow for the homework assignment, Granger."
"Thanks again." Hermione said. She hated to admit it but she did feel safer as
Ron and Neville flanked her, Ron taking her bag over her protests that she
could carry it.
"Do you have any idea who did it?" Neville asked, his entire being radiating
concern.
"No," Hermione sighed heavily, "I was at the foot of the stairs, I heard a yell,"
she paused considering her memory for a moment, "I think it was female?
Then, the spell hit me in the face and that was that."
"Well, it's not like there's a shortage of suspects." Ron stated authoritatively.
"Between the Slytherins who are trying to impress You-Know-Who, Diggory's
supporters, and Harry's fangirls who probably hate you…" he made a flapping
gesture, "who'd you pick first?"
Hermione grimaced but she knew he was right. She felt lighter as they got to
the safety of the tower. She took back her book bag in the Common Room.
"Can you find Harry and tell him before he hears it from someone else?" She
pleaded. "And tell him I'm fine and I'm not changing my mind about dating
him."
Neville nodded. "I think he's still at Hagrid's."
"I'll check there," Ron suggested, pushing his sleeves up his arms, "you check
his and Sirius's rooms. If Harry isn't there, you can always tell Sirius."
Neville agreed and Hermione made for her dorm as they clambered back out
of the portrait hole. She hated to admit it but she was feeling a bit shaky and
looking forward to curling up in bed with a book for an hour before dinner to
regain her equilibrium. She slowed as she entered the dorm at the tableau in
front of her.
Lavender and Parvati sat on Hermione's bed, a teary Ginny between them.
"What's going on?" asked Hermione, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Lavender looked up, her pretty face completely serious as she smoothed
Ginny's hair away from her tear-stained and blotchy face. "Ginny has
something to tell you."
And she so had the feeling that she didn't want to hear what Ginny had to say,
Hermione thought with weary gloom.
"It wasn't me!" Ginny said immediately, swiping at her face.
But Ginny knew who it was, Hermione realised. She sat down and motioned
at Ron's sister. "Start talking, Ginny."
o-O-o
19th November 1994
Cedric threw the newspaper across the dorm and buried his face in his hands.
He heard Mike (his closest friend and confidante) usher out the other three
sixth year male Hufflepuffs and close the door. There was a rustle as Mike
picked up the paper and read the offending article.
It was another piece by Skeeter about Potter, although most of it was about
the attack on Hermoine Granger on the Tuesday before which had led to
Lydia Inglebee and Ginny Weasley being given a month's worth of detentions,
and the expulsion of Jessica Philpott who had been the one to cast the spell
injuring Granger. Skeeter was malicious, calling Potter and Granger's new
relationship fragile while questioning why the House of Black had requested
the full punishment under the new Hogwarts' Anti-Bullying policy when the
damage to Granger wasn't permanent and had been easily fixed. Personally,
Cedric believed that if he had been in Lord Black's shoes he would have done
exactly the same. If people thought they could get away with shooting nasty
spells at Potter or Granger…well, some idiots would do it. This way everyone
knew that the House of Black wouldn't stand for any kind of attack.
Cedric sighed as he lowered his hands and flopped back on his bed. What
had upset him was his view was diametrically the opposite to the view that his
father had expressed to Skeeter and which she had included in the article as
a quote from the distinguished father of the Hogwarts' Champion.
Would anyone blame him if he killed his Dad? Surely by now he had grounds
for justifiable homicide.
Mike sighed heavily, dropped the paper and sat on the bed next to him,
patting his knee in an absent-minded but comforting gesture. "You need to
talk with your Dad, Ced."
"I've sent him three letters begging him to stop talking to the press." Cedric
said tersely. He wafted his hand in the general direction of where Mike had
thrown the paper. "You see how much notice he takes of me. He doesn't care
how it makes me feel."
His father hadn't replied to any of the letters either. He hadn't written to Cedric
since his first letter telling Cedric he was proud of him for being chosen, and
instructing him to seek out information on magical creatures such as dragons
for the first task since the tournament always began with a task focused on
them.
Cedric had ended up writing to his mother about his father's indiscreet public
comments, and she had sent a disheartening reply back confirming that she
had tried to talk to his father too, but that he was set on trying to get Cedric as
much publicity as Potter; that it wasn't all about Cedric either because there
was politics involved with the magical creature laws under review.
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Chapter 470
Cedric rubbed his head tiredly. He was damned fed up with being in the
middle of his father's political machinations and trying to maintain some kind
of neutrality in his dealings with Harry.
He liked Harry. There was something infinitesimally likeable about him. Harry
had had no airs or graces when he'd just been 'The Boy Who Lived' and even
after he'd found about being Lord Potter, while he'd acquired polish in some of
his mannerisms, there were still no airs or graces in sight. And Merlin knew if
anyone had earned the right to feel a touch superior with everything that had
been said to have happened the last three years, it was Harry. It had felt right
standing beside him on Halloween, supporting him. It had been clear that
night that Harry had been scared at being entered into the tournament but
he'd also been incredibly brave in accepting the binding in order to ensure the
safety of the other Champions.
Cedric owed him.
And it felt wrong to drop his visible support and keep his silence because he
didn't want to disagree with his father publicly, knew his father would be mad
at him if he did disagree with him publicly.
Admittedly, Cedric acknowledged with a flush of shame, he had been
annoyed the first day after the draw. The newspapers had focused so much
on Harry's inclusion, it had been difficult not to feel slighted. He hadn't entered
the competition for the publicity and glory but it was hard not to take offense at
his being chosen as a Champion being treated like a footnote in the bigger
story of Harry's inclusion. He'd even been proud on the second day when the
paper had included a quote from his Dad saying the tournament wasn't about
Harry but all the Champions. But after that…
He really didn't know why his Dad had gotten so mean in his commentary. It
was one thing to point out there were other Champions, another thing entirely
to suggest Harry was some kind of attention seeking nut job who wouldn't last
a minute compared to the other Champions and specifically Cedric.
Cedric had been horrified. And then guilty that his own small irritation that the
publicity focus was solely on Harry might have encouraged his Dad somehow.
And then even more horrified when some of his supporters at Hogwarts had
picked up on his Dad's comments and run with them, but stuck because how
could he say that he disagreed with his Dad?
Oh, he had eventually requested that people stop bad mouthing Harry – and
the discussion with Robert Ogden that had prompted his having to make that
request was one of the more embarrassing moments Cedric had ever had –
but he hadn't done anything else. He'd retreated, hoping that ignoring Harry
would somehow make the whole problem go away.
But it hadn't and it wasn't going to go away.
"You need to do something, Ced, because you're coming off the bad guy
here." Mike said quietly. "Potter's camp has been solid in supporting him but
being real respectful to you, Krum and the French bird. The more your Dad
denigrates him and you don't say anything…"
"I know!" Cedric cut in, lurching upwards. "I know, alright? But it's not that
easy! I can't give disagree with my Dad without it hurting him politically and
ruining my relationship with him." He sighed heavily. "Bugger! I only entered to
make him happy!"
He hadn't wanted to enter. He'd have preferred to have remained on the
Quidditch team since he'd vaguely thought he'd try out for some teams after
school. Being a Tri-Wizard Champion would open doors for him but not if he
came across looking like a pillock.
Mike patted his shoulder awkwardly. "Look, I know it blows, but…you don't
have to do an interview or something like that just…stop ignoring Potter. Go
and talk with him. Tell him the truth that your Dad's views are his views and
not yours. I'm sure he'll get it."
Cedric grimaced but he couldn't argue with the advice. He couldn't continue
with his current 'try to ignore it and hope it all goes away' plan since it wasn't
working. "You're not wrong." He admitted. He pushed himself off the bed. "I
think I'll go and fly for a bit, get my head clear."
Mike gestured at him. "You want some company?"
"No." Cedric clapped a hand over Mike's shoulder. "Thanks." He grabbed his
broom and his outer cloak and was out of the Hufflepuff den before anyone
could catch him. He made straight for the Quidditch pitch.
It was thankfully empty. The first three games had been played ahead of the
tournament and the rest wouldn't get played until after the New Year. The
weather was getting too bad for play – rain and wind making playing
conditions dicey. It wasn't exactly good weather conditions for flying either. But
there was a break in the rain and the wind was down to a brisk breeze.
Cedric mounted the broom and kicked off. A couple of circuits of the pitch had
him warmed up and he started going through the Seeker drills that he'd
always done, letting the familiarity of the shifts and turns, dips and dives blank
his mind as he focused on nothing but the flight.
By the time an hour had passed, Cedric was feeling much better. His
shoulders felt lighter; he could breathe. He drifted down to earth and landed
with a sense of disappointment that he couldn't stay in the air.
Stupid tournament, Cedric thought morosely. He should spend the rest of the
afternoon reading up on magical creatures since his and Mike's research had
backed up his father's suggestion. He planned to spend the next day
practicing any spells and he had plenty of volunteers for helping with that.
Alright then, he determined; shower in the Prefects' Bath and then reading for
the rest of the afternoon.
He grabbed his broom and started to make his way towards the castle.
"Psst!"
The sound had him whirling around to stare at what looked like empty space
beside him. Suddenly the air rippled and Harry peeked out of an…an
invisibility cloak!
Cedric's eyes widened.
Harry raised a finger to his lips and motioned at the Quidditch stands before
covering up again. For a second, Cedric thought about going in the opposite
direction but Harry had made an effort to seek him out and…and Cedric
wasn't going to refuse the olive branch he should have made and offered
himself. He walked over briskly, and was pleased when Harry uncovered a
hand so he could follow it under the Ravenclaw stand and into the shadows.
He watched as Harry whisked off the cloak.
"I'll put up a notice-me-not and a couple of other spells to encourage people to
leave us alone, if that's OK with you?" Harry asked cautiously.
Cedric nodded.
Harry went to work and Cedric fidgeted while he absently noted that Harry's
spell-work was quick, efficient and effective. But alone with Harry up close, he
was reminded again of how young Harry was, and he started to feel like a
heel all over again.
"Sorry about the subterfuge," Harry said, finally stopping and coming to stand
in front of him, "but I've been trying to talk to you for a couple of days now
and…and, well…you're rarely alone."
Cedric cleared his throat. "I should be the one apologising and the one
seeking you out." He sighed. "My Dad is…" he struggled to find the words and
in the end opted for the blunt truth, "I don't agree with him but he's my Dad."
There was a plea for understanding and Harry must have heard it because he
nodded.
"You don't have to explain, Cedric," Harry said seriously, "I get it, and I know
some of your Dad's game plan with the publicity has more to do with the
political agenda than you and I competing in this tournament. Sirius
understands that too."