The Lie I've Lived
Caged Fear
By JBern
Author Notes:
Disclaimer — This is just another piece of fan fiction, but hopefully a memorable piece of fan fiction.
Acknowledgements — Special thanks to Mordecai for the education on Ancient Runes. Garrett PI gets credit for the Sorting Hat’s song in this chapter. As always the support of Alpha Fight Club greatly improves this story. My three betas are ZanyMuggle, Sparky40KW, and Aaran St. Vines. Any mistakes they didn’t catch are all mine.
Chapter 13 — Caged Fear
November 13th, 1994
I resist the urge to clap at Draco’s punishment. Somehow, I manage this amidst the stifled mutterings from all the people crowding the Great Hall and the wails of denial emanating from Narcissa Malfoy. She’s already foaming at the mouth.
The Hat chortles in my mind. "Save your plans for beating the puzzle room, HJ. It’s been a long time since I’ve watched a branding and I want to savor the moment."
"Here I thought you were supposed to be nice, Hat. Didn’t peg you for a Malfoy hater."
"I couldn’t care less about the little shit or his misbegotten bloodline! I want to see pain and suffering! I want to watch Dumbledore’s face as he tries to figure out where he went wrong with the boy. I want to memorize every detail so the next time that aging fossil makes some inane statement about human kindness I can remind him about the day everyone watched one of his students get branded! It never fails to amaze me how savage you miserable bastards can be to each other. Frankly, I’m surprised that your race ever managed to walk upright — let alone create something as glorious as myself."
Laughing almost aloud, I reply, "On behalf of the human race, I have to take offense to that. Besides, you need to tell me how you really feel about Dumbledore."
People are looking around, some wondering just exactly how this whole branding is supposed to work. Thanks to the Sorting Hat, I already know. It’s partly why I have such a stupid grin on my face. I’m too far away to see the runes swirling on the surface of the chalice, but I know that in the center will be two runes. The first is Raidho, which symbolizes Right and Order — a symbol of justice. The second is Thurisaz, but in a reversed position implying that the enemy was attacked with malicious and less than honorable intent. The irony is that the two runes together have an almost lightning bolt look to them. Congratulations, Malfoy, you get your own distinctive little mark, except for the fact that it will remind everyone of me.
Maybe the Goblet has a sense of humor? "Hat, have you ever spoken with the Goblet of Fire? Is it alive like you? Is it just as miserable?"
"It’s never spoken. It shot an occasional wad of parchment at me over the years, but I don’t really have the hands to read them now do I?"
"That’d put a strain in any relationship."
"Still, I believe it was created originally as an artifact to render judgment back in the days when you ignorant fucks believed that magic itself could not be corrupted and was a pure force."
"I bet that lasted about as long as it took for the first person to put a Confundus charm on it. Look at it this way, if it is fully aware, it must be more miserable than you are. The last time that thing has been out was centuries ago."
Either way, I can appreciate the irony in Draco finally getting his, but wait it gets better…
"It’s starting, HJ, look at the Goblet."
The two runes begin to glow like sunlight is being reflected off of them. Unfortunately for Draco, the sun has already set. "How’s that for ‘Instant Karma’ there, Hat? No appeals. No buying off Ministry officials. Justice done right on the spot — no waiting."
"Looks like he’s electing to do it himself! Must be his father’s idea to make him look like something resembling a man."
It’s somewhat reassuring to see the uncaring thing that passes for justice in the magical world turn on someone else. "My poor baby! No!" Narcissa whines and gets to her feet. Two Ministry officials stop her, but it looks like she was going for her wand. Given how she wanted to destroy my buddy here, it didn’t seem like she has the proper appreciation for magical artifacts.
In the grand scheme of things Draco is just a little gnat, an annoyance. He might have been some kind of archrival to Harry Potter, but I’m not that wet behind the ears soul anymore. Hell, maybe I never was.
Lucius hands his panicked son something to bite down on. He is no doubt telling the little ponce that Malfoy men do not scream like little girls. Narcissa is being physically restrained by the two Ministry officials. Sweet Merlin, I hope they took her wand from her or this might turn violent. Someone else should see this — someone with his own personal ax to grind against ickle Draco.
"Dobby!" I whisper under my breath and wait for the pop.
"Master Harry…" I slap my hand over his mouth to shut him up. A few people sitting near me are momentarily distracted by his appearance.
"Just be quiet and watch. I’m guessing Draco was never very nice to you, was he?"
The little psychopath nods very slowly with his overly large eyes fixated on the scene. With a muffled cry Draco thrusts the back of his wand hand against the side of the Goblet and he yelps in pain. There’s a brief flash of light and he thrown backwards clutching his hand and looking more pathetic than after the Buckbeak incident last year.
A voice from the front row calls out, "Oi, he’s pissed himself!" Colin just earned himself a few galleons. I was almost certain he wouldn’t do it, but he’s in Godric’s house for a reason.
From the corner of my eye, I see a scary smile on Dobby’s face.
"Master Draco always says Dobby is not a good elf. Dobby needs to punish himself. How long can Dobby hold his hands in the fire today? Now who is the bad one?" The elf mutters under his breath with a slight cackle.
I’m not ashamed to admit it — that elf frightens me sometimes. It makes me really glad that I’m his employer.
-----
"I wonder if it smelled like burnt chicken."
"Wasn’t close enough to tell, Padfoot," I respond looking into the mirror. Through the cracks in my curtains I can see Dean and Seamus actually studying for a change. Relaxing in protected silence behind the wards surrounding my bed, I take this opportunity to catch up with the only man known to escape from Azkaban … at least that’s what the public thinks. I happen to know better.
"And you said Cissy was in a right state?"
"She looked ready to kill someone."
"Well, she was always very possessive of her ‘toys’. Then again after all those years of being a show bitch, Cissy might not be right in the head."
"That’s saying something considering where you’ve been! You look better than last week. How’s France treating you?"
"No complaints here. Especially with the set of legs attached to Widow Flamel’s attending Mediwitch."
I shake my head. "Reverting to baser instincts already, Black? You must be on the road to recovery."
He smiles a predatory grin at me. "Not reverting…reverted. Not sure if I’m up to juggling the Mediwitch and the personal secretary, but I think my time in Azkaban has earned me the right to try. "
"Playing the wrongfully convicted fugitive from justice already to carve a couple of notches in your holster? I don’t really need to hear this."
"Why HJ? Technically, you’re a rich, famous, somewhat handsome, fourteen year old in a school full of hormonal little witches. I’m surprised you even have time to speak to me."
"Give me a break, Sirius. The only ones worth considering are the seventh years. The only seventh years that would go to bed with a fourteen year old are the ones that I definitely need to stay the hell away from."
His face contorts in barely controlled laughter, "What’s the matter there kiddo? Afraid you can’t handle a few gold diggers? If they’ll spread their legs for your fame, it still means that they’ll spread their legs."
"Crude, but I just don’t need that hassle right now. Maybe you don’t remember how clingy some of them can be. Do I need to recount some of my newly surfaced memories of witches stalking you?" I do my best teenaged Sirius voice, "Guys, Glenda Hoffman just won’t leave me alone. If I start acting stupid around her check me for potions…"
"Girl was a tad obsessive — decent enough shag, but the bad far outweighed the good."
"I seem to recall that was the end of your quantity over quality phase."
"How many times have I told you? It was the beginning of quantity of quality. Damn, it’s still weird to be talking to you just like you’re James! You’d think after all these years being around magic and seeing some bizarre things that I wouldn’t be surprised … sorry HJ. I didn’t mean for that to come out like that."
I shrug. "I stopped worrying about it after awhile. Hat’s been good about reminding me not to dwell on what I can’t change." Wisely, I decide to change the subject before the somewhat festive atmosphere takes a nosedive. "So, from your reports concerning recent and future conquests, I’m guessing you’re getting back into shape."
"It’s coming back, but I’ve got months to go before I’m back in top form. Next week, I have a dueling coach coming in to start working with me."
"Have you made contact with anyone yet?"
He purses hip lips together. "Not yet. I’m still waiting for the word to filter out to the bounty hunters and Hitwizards that might still be out looking for me. After the winter holidays, I’ll start putting out some feelers and trying to get in touch with a few hired wands."
Sirius must see something in my face that he doesn’t like. "Do you know something I don’t?"
"No, I don’t have anything definite, but with his people starting to act again and whatever that bastard replacing Moody was doing, I can’t afford to be too complacent."
"I understand. This dueling coach I’ve got coming in. She’s bound to have some contacts as well."
"She?"
"Naturally. She’s a distant cousin of Emmy Vance. If she looks anything like Emmy, I’ll let you know when I add her to the old rotation."
There’s nothing else to say, "You really are a dog, Sirius."
He retorts, "Not just any old dog, the leader of the pack, my boy! Well, better let you go there, HJ. If I’m lucky there’ll be a knock on my door in about thirty minutes so I should get cleaned up."
"… and if you’re not lucky?"
"I’ll go pay her a visit. After all, what woman can resist my charms?"
"Would you like them in alphabetical order or should I sort them by hair color? Now, that’s not a nice gesture for an old man like you to be making to a young impressionable lad such as myself."
It’s good to see him healing. Sirius could always cheer up James. It’s nice to know I can depend on that.
------
Despite my hectic schedule, I make time to attend my next class with Malfoy. I’m sure if people knew the whole story, they’d think this was petty on my part, but honestly I couldn’t care less about what others might think. That was always Harry’s big hang up, constantly worrying about standing out. Fortunately, James knew a thing or two about standing out and doing it in style. I might as well make the most of my unique situation.
From my table near him, I gesture to the Hat as Malfoy comes in. The Hat can take over from here. "There he is, Hat."
The Hat whispers to me, "Indeed, Potter, watch and learn how it is truly done." Raising its voice it laughs, "I find it odd that people who preach about breeding would hold him up as an example. How’s that mark feel little wizard? Would you like me to sing a song in honor of the occasion?"
Listen up, you stupid brats
For I have a tale to tell.
Of how a Malfoy got his Brand
and wet his pants as well.
It started with the wizard’s cup
the Tri school competition.
And ended with a Malfoy pup
getting boned in the bent position.
An honorable duel, this little brat
tried secretly to reave.
But his potion caught him out, the rat.
And a crime he did achieve.
He wailed and cried and tried to blame
the wiles of lovely Fleur.
But truth was seen by cup of flame
And his lies it did deter.
The Malfoy twat red-handed caught
was dragged before the cup.
And just as it aught
when asked it was, its answer it shot up.
"A brand you'll get, the curs mark yet!"
the punishment decreed.
And Dumbledore, that fossil bore,
Did the punishment accede.
A flash of fire, a burning brand.
Which will fade from him no more.
But the cherry was, he'd pissed himself
whilst lying on the floor.
So what's the moral of this story?
You ask trying not to think.
If you can't figure out this allegory,
then Hogwart's teachers stink.
The lesson for today is learnt
From this loathsome spotty rotter.
That you'll always come out second best
When you try and fuck with Potter.
Draco scowls, "I did not soil myself!"
"That’s not what everyone in the Great Hall heard." The Hat reminds him.
Malfoy responds by thrusting his hand into his robe only to quickly pull it out as if it had been stung as the Gryffindor’s laugh heartily. Even Goyle is fighting back a tiny smile.
The Hat roars with laughter. "Priceless! The little shit doesn’t even know that consciously trying to hide the brand punishes him. It’s a magical mark you shriveled piece of crotchfruit! Have your spells been weaker? You may want to see if your wand is still a good match for you during the holidays?"
As always, I’m in awe of Godric’s finest creation. The last was only a hunch we’d been discussing. Of the handful of people ever to receive this punishment, none had ever written about deeper effects. Still, forcing him to endure a few hours with Ollivander trying new wands is partial compensation for all the trouble the annoying git has given me over the years. It’s enough for now and if he wises up and steers clear of me, I can live with that.
Somehow, I don’t think he’ll ever be that smart, so I’m fairly certain that this isn’t the end.
"Think you’ve won, Potter?" Getting ripped a new one by a thousand year old hat makes Malfoy a little uncomfortable. He seeks safety in trying to draw me in to the conversation.
"No, Delacour is on top of the standings for the moment. I’ve got some ground to make up, but give me some time."
He hisses, "I’m not talking about that!"
I feign ignorance. "Then what are you talking about? The only time we’re ever in direct competition is on the Quidditch Pitch and we know how that has turned out. You seem to believe that we’re archrivals or something, which couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re just my annoying fourth or fifth cousin that I have to tolerate being around at school."
I hit him where it hurts by not only trivializing him, but reminding him that we’re distantly related through Dorea Black-Potter.
Even a few of the Slytherins titter nervously in their chairs. They prefer to confront people when they have the advantage. My housemates surrounding me seem all too eager to get back in my good graces. Part of me wonders how much it would take to instigate a brawl right here in the Defense classroom.
Draco scowls and glances towards the door looking for any signs of our "borrowed" Defense Instructor. I wonder if he’s pondering pulling out his wand. "Careful there, cousin, there’s no research on what might happen if you raise your marked hand to the party you wronged. The results could be fatal and your mum would be crying for her little baby again."
Now I was completely making things up, but the horrified expression was absolutely worth it and I got to work in his mum’s inadvertent slip of the tongue. Technically, Hogwarts is the wronged party, but who knows? The goblet might have its own interpretation of the punishment. Baby Draco is the first person to have this distinction in centuries.
"This isn’t over Potter."
I shrug and roll my eyes, but my reply is directed to the Hat, "He seems delusional and believes there is something between us. Think I should be concerned?"
"I thought you humans didn’t talk openly about homosexuality at this age, but it may explain the boy’s unhealthy fascination with you. Best watch your cornhole there, Potter. He’s likely to try and holster his wand in it." I don’t have to look at Draco’s face to know that it is beet red. I guess the lesson is, don’t mess with Potter and certainly don’t mess with the Sorting Hat. The shocked laughter around us merely serves to underscore that point.
Further conversation is interrupted by our new Defense instructor entering. Cornhole? That’s just wrong. Again, I wonder where the hell it comes up with these things.
------
"Harry! What on earth are you going to do with all that?"
I grin at Hermione while floating several crates down the hallway. I’m a little winded after moving three giant granite slabs. "You’ll just have to wait and see like the rest. I’ve got my strategy for the puzzle room pretty much worked out."
"Australian Bunyip hide, exotic potions ingredients, Peruvian Darkness powder, three industrial cauldrons, and enough stone to start your own quarry — I’m almost afraid to know what you’re planning."
Smiling at my friend’s thinly veiled curiosity, "Word to the wise, bring some earmuffs…"
"I’ll keep that in mind." Despite her casual grin she looks concerned.
"What is it, Hermione? You’re not getting worried about the competition are you?"
"Maybe a little. Don’t laugh, but I’m sick of studying. I'm beginning to feel a bit burnt out and decided to come down and see what you're up to."
She looks like she needs an ego boost. "You’ll be fine, trust me. You could probably take your OWLs today, your NEWTS tomorrow, and graduate Hogwarts by the weekend."
Hermione blushes at the praise, but still appears nervous. "Well, I might give a perfectly acceptable answer for a fourth year student, but it might not be up to the standards they are expecting. My answers have to be the most correct in the event of a tie. Besides, I seem to recall a certain someone who is nearly inconsolable every morning of a Quidditch match, so you have no room to talk."
I gave her a little bit of cheek back. "Well, that’s just the morning of. We’re still two days away. I think you’ve seen the last of my Quidditch jitters. Next year, I’ll be on the team defending the cup and also be the Triwizard champion to boot. That’s a lot to live up to, if you know what I mean?"
She grimaces at me. "Modesty doesn’t seem to your strong suit these days, especially when you’re trailing in the points race at the moment."
"I’ve got my opponents right where I want them."
"Nine points off the overall lead? Well, just be careful that you don’t get a big head, or should I say a bigger head." She gestures and floats a few crates down the hallway. "What’s in these?"
"More chemicals," I say with no intention of telling her about the case of liquor that Dung Fletcher "acquired" for me. At the door to my laboratory I stop to thank her. "Thanks for helping me get this inside. All of Hogwarts is in your debt, Miss Granger. Again, you prove that you are the brightest witch in your gener…Oi! That’s not a very lady like gesture!" I send a weak Tickling hex her way and jump through the door securing it behind me. That’ll teach her!
Since, I have a private sanctuary where no one is allowed access, I’m honor bound to use it for less than honorable purposes. There’s a bloke in France who would hound me about it. After all, I’m still a Marauder. Ironically, when I’m around Hermione, I "feel" more like Harry. She must bring out the kid in me. Oddly, so does Sirius, but in a far worse way. It’s probably because I relate to Black as James and Granger as Harry. People who Harry and James both spent a good deal of time around, like Minerva and Hagrid, are a bit more difficult to sort out.
That is particularly true of Albus Dumbledore. I have no idea what to make of the man! He should be personally training me and preparing me for the inevitable resurgence of Riddle. Instead, he seems content to see me treated as just another student. It begs the question, has the old man gone senile? Even in the Marauder’s time, he was a bit off and as "Harry" I haven’t really seen him cut loose. Does he even have "it" anymore?
Honestly, I don’t know which idea frightens me more, that he is consciously being lax with Riddle’s forces gathering or that he’s a washed up has been who’s finally lost it.
Either way, I can’t depend on him. That’s the only thing I do know for certain.
------
"I'd like a word, Potter." One of the ginger dillweeds approaches me. He's clearly been waiting for me to come down from my dorm room. The coomon room is pretty full. The smell of confrontation is in the air.
"What makes you think I have anything to say to you Fred, or is it George?"
"If you can't tell, there's no point in saying. Either way, we know you were behind the dungbomb explosion."
"How can you be certain? I’ve heard that storing cheap wheezes together can lead to know end of trouble."
"Your best mate Granger is sharp as a tack, but gullible. We simply went to her and said you admitted to it and if we wanted to know why we should ask her and she’d explain. Granger seems to take herself very seriously, doesn’t she?"
Undone by Hermione’s need to lecture people, curses! I look over at her on the couch and watch her mouth an apology to me. "Okay, so what? I got rid of all your toys. Boo-Effing-Hoo. You two left me tied up in a blanket at the edge of the forbidden forest. Ever think about that? How about sticking Neville to the wall just because he wouldn't tell you where we went to?"
My voice is raised enough that we’re now the center of attention. "You’re going to pay, Potter."
I laugh, "I’ve got a couple of Knuts in my robes here somewhere. Is that about right? Look you and your brother are small time compared to the Marauders and if I didn’t have this tournament to deal with I’d like nothing better than to run circles around the two of you on a daily basis, but I just don’t have the time right now. There’s a week or so when the tournament ends. Check back then and we can have a jolly old time."
"You’d like that wouldn’t you? You’re not getting the last laugh here Potter. Any day you’ve got a task, we’ll go easy on you. Any other time, we can and will make your life miserable!"
Hermione’s wide eyes tip me off and I flatten as the hex flies over my head. Balding jinx by the look of it. It strikes an unfortunate second year named Natalie. The other twin must have been disillusioned, but he’s visible now. My Disarming charm is blindingly fast and I stick that wand to the wall. I spin to the other one only to find him frozen in mid-draw. Hermione's expression is not amused. She's a fast draw when angered. I give her a wink and notice Ron has his wand out as well. Who was he planning on helping?
"Enough!" Holly Lynch bellows trying to reassert control and restore some semblance of order. "Not in the dorms, not in the common room. Five points from everyone that cast a spell or two points from everyone who drew their wand — or tried to draw their wand. This tower is off limits to your little prank war. You get me Weasleys? Potter? Granger? There are other students in this tower and we have tests, homework, and the rest of our lives to think about! Without trying to do it in your personal playground! Beth, do you still have some Hair Restorative? Go get it. Its okay Natalie honey, don't cry. We'll get you fixed up in a second."
Her scathing gaze tries to literally burn a hole through the wandless twin and then me after the twit balks. I meet her stare and reply, "It's about damn time you started acting like you're in charge. Let's see if you can keep it up or if you're just putting on a show."
------
"Hey Harry."
"Welcome to the Hogwarts infirmary, Ron. How may we be of service today?"
"Got anything for a fierce headache?"
"Give me just a second." I walk back into the dispensary and fill out the log book. I don’t think for a minute that he has anything wrong with him, but I’ve become a fan of theater as of late and decide to see how this drama plays out.
A minute later I bring it out to him. "Here you go."
"Thanks Harry. Listen, about the twins…"
"Thought you were here about the pain in your head not the pains in my arse."
He lets out a little chuckle. "That’s pretty funny. Anyway, they’re going too far. Take it from someone who’s been their favorite target growing up. Back when I was nine and ten, I couldn’t wait for them to go back to school. They’re not used to anyone but Mum or Bill stopping them in their tracks like that."
"Honestly Ron, there’s not a whole lot of difference between Fred and George and my cousin Dudley except for the ways they dole out the humiliation. I’m not a big fan of people who try to throw their weight around, especially when they clearly can’t take what they are so happy to give."
"Like I said, they’re going too far these days. When we first got here and they were in their third year, I thought they were going to humiliate me on a daily basis, but by then picking on an ickle firstie didn’t really seem like a challenge to them, so they were always after Wood and the upper-class types. Now that they are sixth years and with the year ‘off’ between OWLS and NEWTS, I think they’re bored and looking for trouble."
"That’s probably all they’re likely to find with me. I wasn’t put on this earth to keep their idle hands busy."
"True, but look at it this way, when you told them that they don’t match up to your dad and his group, you struck a deep nerve. They’ve been telling themselves for years that the only thing holding them back from being the greatest pranksters ever is that our family is so poor. They keep thinking that their ship is going to come in and they’ll be rich overnight or some rubbish. You think I’m bad about having no money try listening to them talk about it!"
I’d never really thought of it that way. The dillweed duo is jealous. "So, instead of trying to beat me into the ground because I’m famous for stopping a Dark Lord, they want to have a go at me because I’m well off and the sole link to the Marauders."
"That’s the way I see it. They’ve pretty much exhausted all their targets and who they can prank without going after lower classes and looking petty. Best I can tell is that you’re more than a match for them and that’s only making them angrier."
"So where’s that leave you?"
"Well, I haven’t been a good friend to you this year and we both know it. I wanted to say I’m sorry about that and warn you about how nasty the twins get when they don’t get their way. If it starts getting out of hand, I’m going to write Mum and she’ll put an end to their nonsense. You just say the word and I’ll be glad to."
"You’d do that?"
"Yeah, you know that story they always tell about turning my teddy bear into a spider?"
"Yeah."
He points to a little scar on his forearm. "They always seem to forget that it bit me and how they weren’t sure whether it was poisonous or not, so they crammed a Bezoar down my throat and tried to threaten me into making an Unbreakable Vow never to tell Mum about it."
Patching up a friendship over mutual dislike of his brothers’ obsessions isn’t how I pictured Ron trying to get back on my good side, but what the hell! "Thanks for keeping an eye out for me, Ron. I appreciate it. Look, we’re not as close as we used to be. We might never be like that again, but I don’t forget the people around me. I’m starting to really see what comes with being famous, both the good and the bad. You know that Puddlemere’s General Manager is keen on recruiting me. If you seriously want to be a Keeper, I can get you into their youth training camp they run each summer."
Ron’s eyes light up, Puddlemere runs the most exclusive summer camp around. Those same eyes darken, "I wouldn’t want you paying for me, Harry."
"I wouldn’t. All I have to do is ask them for a favor. I know you well enough to know that you want to make your own mark. I’m just offering a helping hand along the way. What good is being the Boy Who Lived, if I can’t help open doors for my mates? It’s the way all those stuck up purebloods get ahead. I doubt Lucius Malfoy paid a Knut for all those Nimbus 2001’s. He made a floo call to someone who owed him a favor and just like clockwork seven brooms show up at Hogwarts. I might not be able to do that just yet, but I can easily open a door or two for a bloke who has been good to me over the years."
"You’d really do that?"
"Sure, why not." I don’t feel the need to mention that I can also go the other way and torpedo Angelina Johnson’s chances at the Spring Leagues.
Ron leans in a little closer. "One thing I wanted to mention is that in Hogsmeade the other day, I bumped into Charlie and a few of his friends."
I scratch my chin. "Shouldn’t he be back in Romania by now?"
"Well that’s what I was thinking to, but he says he’s back here starting work locally on a short term contract. Now I had to ask myself, what in Merlin’s name would require the services of a group of Dragon Handlers? The only thing I can come up with is the tournament."
Now that’s something I can use. "Explains why he knew about it at the start of the year. They must be intending to use Dragons in one of the tasks ahead. When it suddenly expanded to six champions they were talking about rescheduling things. Thanks for the tip, Ron. Keep an ear to the ground and let me know if you find anything else out."
He smacks me on the shoulder, "Count on it, mate. So, you got time for a game of chess?"
"Sure why not. Go get your board. You know in the Muggle world there are people who make their living playing this game?"
"Without the moving pieces? Sounds kind of bland, but if people get paid to do it, it can’t be all that bad. I’ll have to keep that in mind."
------
"I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d be such a fast learner." The Head Girl sends a bit of praise my way, even if she sounds annoyed at babysitting me. "It looks like you’ll be Apparating in no time."
I ponder what Melinda Turpin would think if she knew that I was holding back? I try to maintain my interest by examining her shapely little backside. It’s a far more attractive destination than the hoop sitting a few feet away. "I’m always getting into sticky situations and this seems like an important thing to know. Besides, the sooner I master this, the sooner the both of us can get four hours of our week back. Are you ready for the Knowledge Bowl tomorrow?"
"As ready as I can be, I suppose. Lots and lots of studying." Obviously, it’s not just Hermione feeling the pressure.
"Pucey still being an unsupportive prat?" This draws a mocking bit of laughter from one of the nearby Slytherins out there with us and Melinda shoots him a dirty look.
"We're on a bit of a break for the moment."
I don’t pay much attention to the legendary Hogwarts Gossip Network, but two nights ago, I saw them walking together after my little spat with the twins, so this must be a late-breaking development. "Oh, I see. Well, I figured he couldn't handle it. Good on you." This evokes another guffaw from the Slytherin.
"I didn't ask for you approval, Potter. Shouldn't you be concentrating?" She's gets red in the face and looks suddenly upset. Oh, it looks like she was given the heave ho. Subtle move there Pucey, cutting her loose a few days before her biggest day in the spotlight — probably hoping to throw off her performance. That’s a petty loser if I’ve ever seen one.
"It’s his loss then Melinda. A talented witch like you deserves better than a bottom feeder. Your coattails are better off without him weighing them down."
"Just let it be and get focus on why you’re here — Apparating." She sounds a bit defeated.
I stay quiet and continue pretending to work on Apparition. Next time we’re out here, I’ll go ahead and really try and get this out of the way. With the staff duels coming up, I’ve spent almost no time practicing with one since the Puzzle room challenge is consuming the majority of my time. I’ll risk losing a few archaic staff matches, if it means getting my grubby little Animagus hooves on Flamel’s pensieve.
Thirty minutes later, the gong sounds and all the students practicing start taking their hoops over to the stand. An idea has begun to take shape — an awful, evil idea worthy of a once and future Marauder. I linger for a moment next to Turpin and make certain the eavesdroppers are gone.
"Thanks for hanging out here with me, Melinda."
"You’re welcome, Harry. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to studying. Roger will probably be down here with you next week."
I lightly grab her arm. "I didn’t want to say this while Gartner was around, but it seems to me that Pucey did this to you on purpose just before your big moment. He wants you to do poorly."
Her look accuses me. "Why do you think that?"
"Because he’s a guy who can’t stand that his girlfriend is better than he’s ever going to be. Instead of rooting for you, he’s sabotaging you and counting on you to fail. He wants you to fail. Then after you botch it, he’ll graciously take you back and make it seem like you can’t succeed without him."
"How do you know this?"
I can’t exactly tell her how threatened old JP was of Lily’s success now can I? "Let me guess, you’re not so hot when it comes to tomorrow’s subjects Transfiguration and Magical History?"
"They’re not exactly my strongest subjects." She replies cautiously.
"Exactly, he wouldn’t have considered this if Ancient Runes was in the mix. Even confunded and half awake, you’d destroy the competition in that subject. So, like the little snake he is, he does this at the worst possible time … for you that is. You need to shake it off and concentrate on doing as well as you can. Show him you don’t need his little games."
I can see her anger building. "Merlin, you’re right! I’m an idiot. Well not any more. I’m going to go do some serious studying."
"Need someone to quiz you?"
"Yes, but everyone has class this afternoon except for the team members. The other Prefects are covering all the rounds this evening. I suppose I could ask one of them."
I clear my throat, "Normally, I have Potions with Madame Pomfrey this afternoon, but today’s lesson is something I’ll be able to get through rather quickly. I’ll be happy to lend a hand.
She starts to say that I’m only a fourth year, but clearly remembers the golem from my duel with Cedric. "How good are you at Transfiguration, Potter?"
I give her a dazzling smile. "It’ll be like a private lesson with McGonagall, only I’m much more adorable."
------
A bleary eye regards me, "What time is it?"
I shift pressing close to Melinda. A thin sheet separates our naked bodies; she's obviously a cover hog. "About three in the morning. Go back to sleep." I stroke a few loose curls off of her face.
The second eye opens and a flood of memories, hopefully pleasant come back to her. "Oh Merlin! You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have been here at all! We shouldn’t have done that! Shit! I’m almost eighteen and you’re what? Just barely fourteen!"
I smile in the dim light and try to calm her before she goes into a panic. "I don’t know about you, but I had fun. Was I better than Pucey?"
She practically hisses back at me, "Yes, but that’s not the point! This was wrong and no one can find out about this."
Okay, it was probably shameful of me to dazzle Melinda here with my knowledge of Transfiguration for several hours, sneak down to my laboratory and return with a bottle of rum to help her relax, and finally convince her that a massage would get rid of all that tension — among other things — before the competition in the morning. On the other hand, I really needed a good shag and despite what she’s saying now, a few hours ago, she seemed to believe it was a smashing idea on more than one occasion. I have very good hands and the memories of a rather successful Casanova up in my skull. Even with the age difference, it hadn’t been that hard to get her to drop her defenses and shortly afterwards her robes. It makes me wonder how that time at Oliver’s apartment with Penny really would have gone if he hadn’t interrupted.
I shift and start nuzzling her neck. There’s a sweet spot around there somewhere. Ah, there it is. In between, I whisper to her. "No one will. I’m not some braggart Melinda. Not a soul in this castle will know except for the Sorting Hat. Even if I was, people would probably be congratulating you. Still, I don’t want to see either of us up on the front page of the Prophet and I don’t want any of those so called ‘reformed’ Death Eaters to catch wind of this. I’m a notoriously private person and aim to keep it that way."
"You mean you’re not expecting us to be a couple or something?" I can’t tell if she’s disappointed or relieved, probably a bit of both.
"I like you Turpin. You’re a sweetheart. I wasn’t lying when I said that you’re an attractive witch with a brilliant future ahead of you. I’m not expecting anything. I just didn’t want you to go into that competition tom … well, today doubting yourself. You needed someone to remind you how good you really are. I didn’t mind volunteering."
Her resistance is fading. In the dim light, I grab a wand off the nightstand — hers I think and use a Breath Freshening charm on both of us to make snogging a bit more pleasant and take a quick swig from the remaining alcohol and pass it to her. Firewhiskey’s good for getting pissed, but nothing sets the mood like a little Captain Morgan. This spiced stuff was introduced after JP met his end, but he would have liked it. I sure do. One thing's for certain — she's got a little captain in her.
A few minutes pass and we’re both wide awake now. "Harry, we should stop. I should either be sleeping or studying. This is … nice, but it's still wrong."
"Fine, what are Preylette’s four principles of elemental Transfiguration? You answer correctly and I’ll keep doing this."
"It’s a little hard for me to compose a proper answer when you’re doing that with your hands."
"Consider it a simulation of answering under pressure, unless you want me to stop?" I tease her slightly.
"…no, keep going. Preylette’s four principles cover the transfiguration of base stone into … into living material. The first refers to the amount of innate resistance to alteration based on the density and type of stone…The second is…"
I half-heartedly listen, but only to make certain she’s getting it right, although repeatedly stammering "faster Harry" during an answer might cost her some points in the overall scoring. After only five questions, she doesn’t feel like studying anymore and wants to move onto a subject that interests me as well.
All that’s left is for me to sneak into her water closet and put a little "HJ" next to the "JP and SB" and put a single line under it. Oh yeah, and I still want to know why Roger calling her "Mindy" yanks her chain.
------
Out in the crowd, I watch the still somewhat tense, but rather confident Head Girl answers her first set of questions. If she’d only accepted my theory that showering together was necessary to keeping our tryst a secret. In a surprisingly humorous twist, one of her questions just so happens to be on Preylette’s second principle. Most people probably chalk up her coughing fit to nerves, but I know the truth.
Unfortunately, so does the Sorting Hat, and naturally it feels the need to comment. "Finally broke down and bedded some wet behind the ears schoolgirl eh, Potter? Do you feel better now? What’s your next great feat going to be, HJ? Going to pull a rabbit out of a hat? Pick a card, any card?"
"You’re not going to spoil my mood today, Hat, but I’m starting to wonder how much the Around the World Special at that spa in Tuscany costs."
"Eight hundred and thirty galleons, but the rumor is that it is that they make you take a vow of silence about what happens during it."
"Would they be able to bind you to a vow of silence?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, HJ. Granger's up now. Time to see if McGonagall's gamble pays off."
Hermione looks intimidated being out in the center of that wide stage at that podium all by her lonesome.
"If she doesn't do well today HJ, you should probably give her the same treatment you gave Turpin."
"Not funny, Hat. Besides, look how easily she fielded that first question. Good, she's covering all the bases."
"Sounds like she's going back digging them up and covering them again if you ask me. I think they wanted an answer not a dissertation."
"Can't fault her enthusiasm though, give them hell, Hermione!"
"For fuck’s sake! It's about damn time someone cut her off. I think that's the Minister of Education from Portugal. He's the one trying to steal McGonagall out from under Dumbledore's crotch. Dumbledore should be worried; this shriveled prune looks like he's only in his eighties. If she's in the market for a younger man, Dumbledore might have to look to Sprout for his duty punch. Who knows what kind of fungal infections she might have."
"That's wrong on so many levels!"
It spends the next minute trying to fill my head with images, while I mentally try to fend them off. I mostly succeed, but the image of a scantily clad Pomona Sprout with African Creeping Vine crawling all over her body has scarred me for the foreseeable future. Now I have a reasonable excuse for skiving off Herbology for the next few weeks.
Meanwhile, Hermione is doing decently, but has taken a turn for the worse. Her answer to the third question was a bit weak and she knows it. Come on you can bounce back! What's the fourth question? Principles behind Animagus Transformation! Oh that's a good break, I know you know this. Good work through it, nice and easy — wait, slow down, don't babble.
"Damn! She's right, but she doesn't sound like she thinks she's right."
"Looks like I was correct! You spent the night stroking the wrong witch's ego."
"Please! If we did that, Hermione would be out of her mind right now trying to figure out what it all means. She doesn't have the life experience for a casual shag."
"Good point, but she's completely missed the last question. Right now she's screwed, but not in the good sort of way."
I shrug. "She didn't do that badly. That question is above NEWT level. Odds are the Beauxbatons student won't know it either. She got four out of five in the Transfiguration round, which might not be up to her standards, but sometimes I don't think she knows just how obsessively insane her standards are."
We continue to the banter while it tries to convince me to diddle my best friend. The wizard from France only manages three out of five and Hermione wins her round and Hogwarts leads Beauxbatons five to two going into the History round. She's probably the most miserable looking winner I've seen outside of Fleur after our duel. Speaking of the French witch, I see her a few rows over with her eyes closed in deep concentration. What is she doing?
A few students down is Aimee doing the same thing. "Hat, Beaucourt and Delacour look like they're meditating. Can you spot Krum or Manos? I see Diggory. He doesn't seem to be up to anything, but I think something's up."
"No, they're not in my line of sight, but I agree that something's going on."
I scan the group surrounding Cedric and catch Hannah Abbott's eye. It's not hard. She's sort of staring at me. I point at Cedric and she's kind enough to get his attention. I point at our competitors. It takes Diggory a moment to spot what I am pointing at and he looks just as confused.
There's a ten minute break mostly for the crowd and I take off the Hat and tell it to save our seats and immediately move towards Cedric's entourage with Neville in tow. It's somewhat shameful, but I use Neville to deflect Hannah and Susan while addressing my co-champion. "What do you think that is all about?"
He shakes his head. "I'm not certain. They were definitely meditating."
I scan the group, "Anyone run into something out of sorts yesterday?"
Marietta Edgecombe speaks up, "Yesterday in Hagrid's class, he left us for about ten minutes to oversee the delivery of some cages. I didn't really think much of it, but there were six of them and they didn't go to his shack, they were taken up to the castle instead."
Cedric looks to his girlfriend Cho for confirmation who agrees. "Sounds like they're going to lock us up, Harry. This must be one of those 'surprise challenges' they kept talking about."
I'm looking around and spot something. "Look over there in the corner. Karkaroff is with Manos and Krum and trying to look discreet. They must know about something."
Cedric nudges Cho and she stares intently. I wonder what she's doing. Finally, the Asian speaks, "Their talking about maintaining mental focus, intimidation, and occluding."
"How do you know?"
"I can read lips fairly well. Effective even against most Privacy charms, unless they are visual as well as audible."
"That's a right useful talent." My respect for Chang ticks up a notch and she gives me a grin. It takes me a minute to remember making several comments about how pretty she was with Ron last year and now I realize that she probably "heard" what we were saying. My quasi-adult sensibilities are overridden by teenage hormones and I end up blushing a bit.
Well she still is rather attractive. Of course why am I being a little kid about this? Wasn't I shagging the Head Girl last night? If I didn't mind blowing my secret, I could tell her stories about her auntie that would make her crimson.
Back to the matter at hand, "So, something is definitely up. Whatever it is, it doesn't sound like a spell casting challenge."
Susan Bones says, "My auntie is here today, if that means anything?"
Cedric scratches his head, "Okay, we've got cages, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, and something about mental focus. What do you think gang?"
A lanky bloke named Summerby who is Diggory's best mate speaks up, "Maybe they're going to pit you against a Legilimens and see how long you can keep one out?"
I choke back a bit of bile. No fucking way I'm letting someone in my head! Edgecombe shakes her head. "I don't think so, Alan. It takes Wizengamot approval to use it on a convicted criminal. Plus, that wouldn't explain the cages. Besides, part of this whole tournament is about entertaining the crowd. How much fun would it be to see you all sitting there in a staring match with someone?"
Neville, listening intently makes his own observation, "What if you're not going in the cages, but something else is?"
"Good point, Longbottom," Cedric replies. "The cage might be for something else."
Further speculation is cut short by the chime telling everyone to return to their seats. I convince eager to please Hannah to switch seats with me so I can sit back here with Diggory during the History round and use my wand to Summon the Hat as she leaves with Neville. Although, the end result is I'm sitting next to Susan Bones and she looks like she's going to wet herself.
"So how much do you know about meditation, Harry?" Cedric asks. "I only know some basic focusing techniques that I use for complex Transfigurations."
"I can hold my own." I answer evasively while bringing the Hat up to speed.
"Cages eh? Let’s see what they’ve got up their sleeve. Sorry, I’m not spending any time up in Dumbledore’s office; otherwise I could probably fill you in. You’ll just have to rely on your own talents to get you through this."
"I suppose I could cry foul, but on the other hand, they don’t know about the dragons yet."
"Going to let Diggory in on it?"
"Not in a big crowd, but I’ll clue him in somewhere down the road. Maybe, I’ll mention it to him right before our staff match and see if it throws him off his game?"
"Um Harry," Susan starts, "I don’t suppose you’ve decided who you’re going to the Yule Ball with?" She’s on a fishing expedition it seems.
"Haven’t really given it much thought yet. How about you?" I turn it back on her much to her discomfort. She’s got bait on the hook, but I’m in no mood to bite.
"I’ve had a few people ask and I’m weighing my options." She responds carefully. Give her some points for courage. Susan’s letting me know she’s available, but if I don’t act soon, she’ll move on. Sadly, she might be in this body’s age group, but Miss Bones doesn’t match up to my mental age. Still, assuming I don’t have a Dark Lord in the picture, I’m already making plans for my sixth and seventh year to be one long continuous orgy. Susan should have matured by then. If she’s still as smitten with me by then we can certainly arrange something.
I suppose I should give Melinda first right of refusal to this dance thing. That’d probably wind Pucey up, but since I am supposed to be discreet, I doubt it’s going to happen. I suppose, I could go a step higher and ask Penny provided Ollie doesn’t object. It’d be especially nice to see Percy Weasley’s reaction since he’s likely to be there, although Cedric’s father, Amos, is on his way to being approved for the vacancy left by the retiring Barty Crouch, Senior.
"I hate to interrupt your visions of future debauchery, but it looks like your friend Granger is up again and History is, shall we say, repeating itself."
Hermione only manages three of her five History questions. Oh that’s not good. Hopefully, her Beauxbatons opponent isn’t that good with the same set of questions.
Unfortunately, for Hermione the French Wizard is a perfect five for five on magical History and wins that point. Beauxbatons is trying to mount a comeback, but Roger slams that door shut. He really knows his history. Despite winning the History round four to three, Beauxbatons loses overall eight to five.
This evening Durmstrang will take on Beauxbatons followed by Hogwarts versus Durmstrang tomorrow. By winning Hogwarts gets the extra night of study, so well done to the boys and girls in black.
Madame Maxim approaches the podium and congratulates Hogwarts and Beauxbatons on their fine efforts. "We would normally dismiss you, but we have a surprise challenge for our individual champions. If they would be kind enough to join us here on stage with their advisors?" A wave of her wand conjures six wooden chairs on the stage while Dumbledore floats the six cages out of the back room.
We get a round of applause as the murmuring and speculation begin. The Puffs and Claws whom I am now sitting beside wish both Cedric and me the best of luck.
"What if it is a Legilimens?"
"Then don’t let your guard down, HJ. From what I recall, anytime they’ve done something like that, the contestants are given a specific memory to protect."
Once up on stage, I look at Beaucourt and Delacour. "Hello again. How’s that meditation coming?"
They both give a quick smile and go back to their intense concentration. The cages are resting in pre-marked locations. Leading up to each cage are ten lines spaced at one foot intervals.
Maxim continues in her heavy French accent, "A true champion must be able to react to the unexpected and show courage in the face of fear. The purpose of this surprise task is to demonstrate which among our brave champions has the courage to step boldly into the face of their greatest fears."
I sigh heavily having a good guess of what they have in mind. Hagrid makes certain the cages are in the correct position while the doors to the Great Hall open. Several Aurors and ominous figures in black cloaks stand in the entranceway. The fucking ddementors of Azkaban inside Hogwarts. Damn! I was right! Each of the six is escorted into the chamber by a pair of Aurors. They spread out and take different paths to the main stage and giving the crowd a small dose of what we’re in for.
Trust the DMLE to turn an event into a chance to drive fear into the hearts of future wrongdoers by giving them a taste of what they can expect. Fear, hopelessness, and a sudden drop in temperature ripple through the room like a wave. Mist created by the breath of those suddenly shivering creates a low floating fog. A pale looking Hagrid leads them past us and puts one in each cage. The panoramic of the great hall changes into an overhead view of the stage and I flick my eyes over to Dumbledore wondering what potions he has been abusing to buy off on this one.
"The Trial of Courage pits each contender not only against the others, but against his or her own fears. Each will start at the ten foot line, every minute the chime will sound and they must step one foot closer within ten seconds or be disqualified. At any time a champion may choose to step forward and the others must join that champion within fifteen seconds or be disqualified and must return to the chair where you are seated presently. In the event that more than one champion reaches the one foot line, they will remain there until one remains and claims victory. If you would each please surrender your wand and take your starting position."
Hagrid comes by and collects the wands. They really want to underscore the feeling of helplessness. Beaucourt is already trembling slightly. I look over at the blanched face of Cedric. "Just like our match only this time we don’t have that far to fall, eh mate?"
His reply is devoid of any humor. "Right, just a walk in the park."
Ten feet away from a group of dementors, you can really feel them circling around. I hear James shouting for Lily, baby Harry’s screams, and of course Voldemort’s taunting laughter. Unlike before, I had no reference for these voices and I can see the scene already in my mind. Ruthlessly, I slam down my Occlumency barriers. Instead of fear, I feel more anger. What do these little shits beside me have to be afraid of? How many of them have the memory of their death emblazoned across their psyche?
The crowd continues to murmur with an uneasy fervor settling over the Great Hall. They want their entertainment and we six dancing monkeys are on display for their viewing pleasure.
If I’d volunteered for this I’d probably be regretting my decision right about now. I glance back at the Hat on my chair.
It speaks, "This is pretty twisted even by my standards. Give no mercy, HJ."
At least that explains why Fleur and Aimee were meditating. Manos and Krum obviously know a little bit of Occlumency, but one thing I noticed after my defenses come up is that Fleur seems slightly brighter. Her innate aura seems to be reacting to their presence and trying to defend her. If she also knows Occlumency, she could be dangerous in this task.
Of course, I could change into my Animagus form and stand up here all day, but my secret is worth more than a mere ten points in this competition. Plus, I’m certain Fleur would be rather upset to learn that I am Monsieur Pronghorn. That would lead to an annoying conversation.
Once all of us are on the ten foot line, the officials clear the stage and the chime sounds beginning our contest of will power. To my left is Cedric in the first position. I’m in the fourth position with Athena Manos on my left and Fleur to my right. Is it going to be a silent ten minutes?
"So Potter, I heard you faced dozens of these things? Some of your schoolmates have said that you are particularly sensitive to these creatures." Manos starts. Her Occlumency must be better than average if she’s going to start trying to distract people.
"Yes, but these are cage bound and I only have problems with packs larger than this. Of course I also have Fleur’s aura here to deal with as well."
The Greek Witch replies, "Yes I had wondered what was going to happen with that as well."
"It is a natural defense mechanism. Whine all you wish, Athena." Fleur hisses back.
"I’m not whining, merely pointing out that your aura might be giving the men around us a boost."
"Ladies, please. Can’t we all be friends up here? If Fleur can’t be around me without losing control, who am I to argue?" Fleur snorts as the chime sounds and we all take a step forward to the nine foot mark.
"So, who up here is trained in the mental arts? I have heard that advanced meditation is taught at Durmstrang." Aimee asks from the first marker.
"I’ve been told I’m pretty thick headed, if that counts?" Cedric replies trying to fight fear with humor.
"Unfortunately, no" Aimee replies dryly with her voice trembling a bit.
"If it is worth knowing, I know it." Krum says tersely from his position at the end. "I will out last all of you."
I can’t resist. "Well if you’re fear is failing to win Krum, you must be getting used to it by now? So all this finishing behind someone else must be good practice."
Both Fleur and oddly Manos chuckle at my direct provocation and here I thought this was going to be a silent struggle. Instead we’re trying to throw each other off our game. Krum responds by stepping immediately to the eight foot line. I step closer to the abyss and join him. Most of the others let the countdown go for a few seconds before stepping forward. Cedric and Aimee are clearly weakening. They’ll be out soon.
"You’re looking a little pale, Potter." Athena says mockingly.
"Da, you are right, Athena. He won’t last much longer."
"But Viktor, he’s doing very well when faced with creatures that nearly killed him."
"Every few months something nearly kills me folks — it’s nothing new. They had their shot and couldn’t do it. Besides, people are always saying I need more color in my skin, but my question Athena is how do you maintain that perpetual tan? It’s got to be potions. Am I right? Beauty in a bottle?" I chuckle and step to the seven foot line early. Affecting my best pirate voice I ask loud enough to be heard by the first few rows, "Coming me hearties?"
Most everyone struggles forward as my statement is repeated throughout the crowd drawing a roar of approval. Too bad they didn’t configure the ceiling of the Great Hall for sound. The posturing would only add to the entertainment. Cedric and Aimee again have the worst problems. Viktor and Athena continue to work on me in tandem like a pair of Harpies.
"When do you think … Potter will drop out, Viktor?"
"I think I see him shivering right now. I don’t think he’ll last to the fourth marker."
I turn to Fleur. "They seem to forget that you’re in first place."
She doesn’t look up, continuing to focus on the next line in front of her. "They think you’re vulnerable here based … on your … history."
"History … is mostly based on rumors." I grunt slightly and force myself to step early to the sixth line. Aimee audibly whimpers and the crowd cheers.
Time winds down and the judge cautions, "Mr. Diggory, Miss Beaucourt you must step forward, now." Cedric makes it. Aimee can’t and is eliminated to a polite applause. The dementors are already leaning forward pressing against the bars tasting the forbidden fruit.
A quiet falls on us as each seeks to find their second wind. I keep reminding myself that my greatest fear is just a faded memory of something Harry James Potter had no control over. Man, I could really use a nice bar of chocolate now. Where’s Poppy when I need her? Lily did have a beautiful voice, didn’t she? Find solace in the memory. James was noble, willing to sacrifice himself for his wife and child. Lily on the other hand was willing to sacrifice everything and everyone. I exist because of that determination.
Second wind found. "Where’s your bluster now, Krum? Manos?"
Fleur hisses and steps forward to the fifth line. "You all talk too much. It is like the bickering of children."
Cedric can’t go on and gets a loud cheer from the hometown crowd. I step forward, but notice my feet are beginning to get reluctant. Some hero huh? It’s tempting to walk right now, but I’m not letting these kiddies get the best of me. I won’t catch Delacour with only two points and no one is going to cheat me out of victory this time! Last time I checked, I’m the chosen one and despite Tom Riddle’s howls in my mind, he’s not here and that means these things can’t kill me.
Athena steps forward to the fourth line. No one seems interested in waiting for the minute chime any more. Krum waits the full fifteen seconds, but then walks straight to the third line. They’re making their move to try and end it here. All four of us are clearly shaking and the crowd is roaring. I dig deep and somehow join Viktor at the three foot marker.
The cold is becoming unbearable. This close to them, the temperature is below freezing. I could do a wandless warming charm, but that’s not going to help much. The air leaving our lungs comes out in plumes of white mist like a cold fire is burning on the stage fed by our fear. On the other hand, is my wandless banisher strong enough to move the entire cage? The dementors continue rattling against their cages trying to press themselves closer to us.
Viktor drops to his knees as the chime tones telling us to step to the second mark. I feel the pull of the creature begin. Its arms are too thick to get through the bars, but the bony fingers are flexing, inviting me to come closer. Lily’s screams intensify, mixing with the cheers from the crowd. The din in my ears becomes maddening. Cold dry air makes it difficult to draw a full breath. Panic is starting to set in, but I refuse to relent. I cannot, will not, must not…
Manos struggles to step to the one foot mark, but she collapses.
"Rise or be disqualified, Miss Manos." Karkaroff shouts, part warning and part commanding her.
She tries, but is clearly crying. Athena won’t make it. It’s down to me and the Veela. So many things happen in the next seconds it’s hard to make sense.
Athena starts crawling to the chairs.
The chime sounds.
Fleur and I start to inch forward.
Hagrid leaps onto the platform and shakes the entire thing with his landing. He shouts, "Freedom for Giants everywhere! Let my people go!" The crowd gasps struggling to understand.
He bowls over a pair of Aurors and hurls two objects. One object strikes the cages and the other hits the ground near him with a flash. I feel some type of magic encircling us creating a magical barrier sealing the six of us inside. The table, with our wands on it is on the wrong side! Where the bloody hell did Hagrid get one of those?
The part of my mind that isn’t trying to keep me from soiling myself knows that these rune walls are used to prevent people from fleeing or escaping. They don’t last long, three minutes at the most, but that’s not what sends a spear of despair through my entire body. The other device bounces off a cage and lands next to my foot. I recall it. It’s known as an Unlatcher.
Over the yells of the crowd and the death wails of James and Lily thundering in my mind I hear the sound more frightening than everything else.
It’s the sound of six cages unlocking and the doors opening. The dementors of Azkaban are about to get a rematch with Harry James Potter, only this time, I don’t have a damn wand….
Author Notes:
Did that get the blood pumping? Hope the cliffhanger isn’t too awful on you. I’ll make you all a promise. Next chapter before this month is out. I’ll get Turn Me Loose 7 done as fast as possible and get right back on this one. Visit my profile for the latest information on my original works.
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