Harry Potter was furious.
The reaction of the Hogwarts student body was infuriating. Since he arrived at the magical school he'd been both raised up and vilified. The Boy-Who-Lived was a hero of magical Britain. Harry Potter was the subject of suspicion and derision. The fact they resided in the same body made them seem schizophrenic. Did they toss a coin every morning to decide which one he would be each day?
Harry's close circle of friends watched uneasily as Harry paced back and forth in the unused classroom. They could see Harry's inner wolf straining and snarling to get out. In the end, only one had the courage to approach him.
"Harry, you need to calm down."
Padma had stepped in front of her pacing boyfriend. He came to an abrupt stop due to the surprising obstacle.
"I know you're angry, but you need to pull it back. You need to be clear headed to think about this."
Surprised, Harry jerked to a halt. "Think about what? Nott was just trying to build his position in Slytherin by doing what Malfoy couldn't - take me on."
"Bugger Nott… and Malfoy too!" Padma growled. "You said you set the ward line to replace your name with Malfoy's; that you didn't put his name in yourself." Harry was shocked to hear the vulgarity come from his girlfriend's mouth but then he focused on what she said.
"I didn't want someone to enter me in the tournament. You know that."
"Yes, Harry, but think! The fact Malfoy's name came out means someone did try to force you into the Tournament. Now you are tied into it anyway! Could Dumbledore be the one that wanted you in this bloody Tournament?"
Harry suddenly understood the fear in the Ravenclaw witch's eyes. He wrapped her into a hug. "This is just Dumbledore's way of getting back at me for the prank. He can't prove it was me so he just gives me extra work disguised as a 'host'."
Padma pushed him back a bit. "But that means you're still involved, Harry! How do we know that isn't enough for whoever planted your name in the Goblet? Even if it was just the Ministry looking for publicity they can still exploit your involvement."
"She's right, mate," Ernie commented from his chair nearby.
"Surely, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't be part of anything that would hurt Harry," Hermione protested.
Ernie shrugged, "Was it Dumbledore's idea or did someone else suggest it? I don't know either way, I just said it was a possibility. And, don't call me 'Shirley'." Hermione absently smacked the Hufflepuff in the back of his head as Harry snickered at his friend's reference. The others just ignored them out of long practice.
"In either case, I don't see a way for you to avoid it, Harry," Daphne added. "We need to keep our eyes open and watch until we can neutralize whatever their plan is and then reverse it so they learn their lesson."
"And that is?" Ron asked from his seat nearby.
Daphne smiled across the small gap between them. "Simple. You mess with us and you suffer - painfully and a very long time." Ron blanched slightly at the flat delivery coupled with the emotionless face save for a small, eager smile. But then he nodded his agreement.
The conversation continued on for a while with nothing being satisfied except someone needed Harry to be involved in the Tournament and the six would keep alert.
....
The next day Harry was pulled out of Potions class along with Draco Malfoy for the Wand Weighing Ceremony. The blonde ignored Harry and strutted off in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry was happy enough to have the git ignore him.
The champions were still gathering when Harry walked in a minute after Malfoy. The little ponce was already standing in a corner with a curly-blonde haired witch wearing red glasses encrusted with fake-looking jewels Harry had never seen before. While she looked nothing like his aunt, something about her expression reminded Harry forcibly of Petunia. The woman had the same pinched, false pleasant expression that Petunia got when she was gathering gossip from her 'friends'. From the scroll floating beside her with a quill taking down what Malfoy said it wasn't hard to guess she was a reporter.
'Wow,' Harry thought, 'there's a match made in Hell: Malfoy and a magical Petunia.'
Harry turned from the dreadful pair only to bump into someone.
"I'm sorry… ," he started only to be interrupted.
"What are you doing here, leetle boy? This is for Champions and their sponsors only. You may leave now."
Before Harry could respond, another voice intruded, "Ah Fleur, I believe this is Harry Potter, the wizard Headmaster Dumbledore declared our 'host' for the events."
The beautiful blonde witch rolled her eyes as though praying for strength. "Oh, very well. You, boy! You shall speak to the Chef de cuisine. Last night's bouillabaisse was of very poor quality. Also I expect a decent quality and selection of Comté cheese & Vin jaune to be provided to our table before the meal.
"Are you getting this, little boy?" the witch demanded. "Or," she asked in a condescending tone, "are you unable to put up even a little resistance to my aura, tout petit?"
Harry turned to look at the person who had initially identified him to the French witch. She was a cute witch with short black hair and grey eyes. She was just a bit taller than Harry but probably a stone lighter. Her expression was crossed between amused and embarrassed at Fleur's behaviour.
"Hello, my name is Harry Potter." Harry extended his hand in greeting.
She extended her hand in response as she said, "I am Michele Desmarais. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter."
Harry took her hand and gently raised it up to lightly kiss the knuckles as Padfoot had shown him. "The pleasure is all mine, Mademoiselle Desmarais. Welcome to Hogwarts. We are blessed to have such a beautiful and promising witch to be visiting us. But please call me Harry." The French witch blushed at Harry's actions and words.
Harry glanced over to see Fleur's face flushed with embarrassment. To Ms Desmarais he said, "I appear to have angered your friend, Mlle Delacour. Perhaps her choice of wand storage placement has led to a negative impact on waste removal functions?"
While Michele Desmarais and Fleur Delacour looked confused by Harry's question, Harry heard chocked laughter coming from an older male teen dressed in Beaxbatons robes.
"And you must be M Alfonse DiGiamotto, Beaxbaton's representative from the 'Boneyard'." The wizard had light brown hair with the olive-toned skin that spoke of Italian background.
The teen wizard took Harry's offered hand with a smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr Potter. And I'm afraid you are correct. My cousin often has her wand shoved so far up her arse it makes her a bit constipated. Glad to have another guy around here that recognizes that too. Call me Al."
Fleur let out an indignant huff and whirled around and stalked off away from them. After a squeaked, "Excuse me," Michele followed her.
Harry grinned at the French wizard. "Call me Harry, Al. You're her cousin?"
"Mom is her aunt on her father's side. Grandfather was the French Ministry's ambassador to Italy. That is where Mom met Dad."
"But your accent is American?"
...
Want to read ahead. Then Join my Pa*treon for the mass release of 60+ chapters that has happened.
Even Free members can enjoy 2+ advanced chapters FOR FREE.
Link: p*atreon.com/Divine_Quill (Remove the *)
Join Right Now