All men die.
All men must die. Eventually in any case. That is the natural way of things, it comes for everyone eventually. There are good deaths and bad deaths, peaceful, painful or horrifying… and I have experienced them all.
Whenever I closed my eyes… whenever I slept, I was drawn back there. Back to that sorry excuse for a manor.
Dying again.
The dreams didn't always begin the same way. Some nights it was Crouch manor, at others it was Azkaban, that night in Paris or—strangely— Privet drive when I was no more than three. No matter where the dream began however, I always ended up there.
The wand is in my hand again, thrumming with power and sending chills up my arm. The room is a mess, Albus is restrained, the stone is calling for me and when I touch it, it all starts over again.
The arms envelope me— soft, ghostly, skeletal, cold—and the memories start to come.
First from the wand.
Antioch, stabbed for his arrogance. I felt the pain, the heat in my chest from where the blade punched through, jagged pain from the new mouth which had been opened across my throat and then the cold from everywhere else.
William, caught unawares by a killing curse to the back. I felt the iron clad punch between my shoulder blades and then my soul, my very essence, being forced out of my body.
Emeric, ripped apart and lacerated during a gruelling duel with Egbert. I watched my hands fly off and then what was left of my body being diced, not comprehending that I had been decapitated until the last moment.
Egbert then. Followed by his friend Godelot, who used the wand and his knowledge to write Magicks Moste Evile. Then his son, Hereward. Barnabus, the betrayer. Loxias. His mother, Nix. Afterwards Arcus, then Livius and Arcus once more. Death at each turn, death I had now experienced.
The last moments of each wand bearer before they were murdered or disarmed… I knew them all.
I remembered the last few seconds of my—Grindelwald's duel with dumbledore in Berlin, my power, my speed, him a shade more skilful, and then the end.
I lived Albus' want and need for the stone before I disarmed him. Then the ring would whisper and more deaths would come, this time without order, rhyme or reason.
Deaths of every kind.
The hours would trick by as I was murdered or drowned or expired from old age. And when I thought it would never end—
'Harry, my sweet boy.' The arms around me would tighten, comforting but dead. 'You must wake up Harry.'
'Mother?' But no, it couldn't be. My mother wasn't dead. Something twisted painfully in the pit of my stomach. It couldn't be. She wasn't even in this universe. That only left… 'Lily.'
'My brave, brave boy. You're drowning, love.' She squeezed me, her arms wrapped around my chest and I felt a flicker of warmth. 'You have to wake up now Harry, before it's too late.'
How? I thought. How do I do that? I was back in the chamber once more, drowning and suffering, yet it was not the same.
The chamber and the pain were prisons of my own making in my pursuit of strength. But this? I didn't ask for this…
'It doesn't matter baby.' Her cheek was against mine, pale and frozen in death. Her hair was a crimson fire but there was no heat. It burned like ice. 'You have it now. You must accept it dear boy. Accept it Harry and wake up.'
I woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat. I forced my eyes shut, squeezing them as my brain tried to bludgeon itself against my skull.
The arms that wrapped around me now were just as soft, but these ones are warm and thrumming with life.
I felt her soul, past her pyjamas, through her skin, all of it here, all of it vibrant and on this side of the veil. I felt her heat. I let it ground me. I felt her love and I realised that I was alive again.
"It's okay Harry, it was only a nightmare." She whispered, rubbing her hand down my back. Another settled over my chest, right above my heart. It was beating slow and faint, where hers was fast and powerful and completely at odds with the shock of my awakening — but still, it was beating.
"It was just another dream. You're okay. I'm right here." She continued to say, every word filled with affection.
I forced breath back through my lungs, pushing the memories away, fighting them all the way to the chamber. "Harry look at me." I turned my head and opened my eyes.
Hermione looked at me with a sad frown on her face. She brought the hand from my chest up and wiped at my cheeks.
The hand came away bloody. She looked close to tears.
"I wish you would tell me what's wrong. Why is this happening?"
"Nothing is wrong—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence." She hissed. "Something is wrong! You rarely sleep, and whenever you do, you toss and turn and look as if you're in pain. When you wake up, you're crying tears of blood." She bit at her lip in frustration. There were tears in her eyes now, she wiped them before they could fall. "This isn't fine Harry."
I sighed. "I know and I'm sorry, but the truth is that nothing is wrong. It'll pass Mione."
"You've been saying that for over a week." She stressed.
"And I meant it." The knowledge was intrinsic. The flux of my soul would take time to settle.
"Let me take you to Madam Pomfrey. There might have been something I missed or something better than dreamless sleep." Hermione pleaded, eyes teeming with worry.
"You missed nothing." I insisted, treading over old ground. "There is no better alternative. Madam Pomfrey would eventually ask questions that I cannot—will not give an answer to. You have done more than enough. Your presence helps more than you can know."
I ran a hand through my hair, black and slick with sweat. A wave and everything is dry. I catch a glimpse of the stone on my forefinger. Onyx, sitting comfortably on a gold band.
Hermione spots it too. Her face morphs in displeasure. She hugs me tighter and murmurs. "I don't feel as if I've been all that helpful… What is it you see Harry?"
"Death, Hermione. I am seeing death."
I don't elaborate further and I can tell that irks her. But if I did… she wouldn't understand, not truly, no one would, and I wouldn't want her to. She's worried for me enough as it is. In any case, the dreams would pass or I would learn to bear them, as I had been saying all week.
After I left Albus to catch up with Arianna, and a few hours of troubled sleep in the boys dormitory, my mind flashing back to the shack constantly, I left Gryffindor tower for the room of requirement.
I spent the rest of the night there. I did the same the next night. On the third night, my solace in the room was interrupted.
I stood amidst the clouds, under the setting sun. The colours, red and pink and orange, helped to put my mind at ease after another night of uneasy dreaming.
It had started with me making my way through Azkaban, killing all of the inner circle that remained, watching and feeling their deaths as their souls slipped through the veil between plains. All of them bar wormtail.
I watched as his bladder weakened and his soul was drawn out by the demontors leaving naught but a husk. After that was the shack.
Hermione had slipped in whilst I was thinking of that night's dream. She watched me for a moment, wringing her hands together before she stepped up to my side.
'Why are you here Hermione?' I asked after a while.
'You have been… distant, cold, since you came back from your trip with the headmaster. Everyone has noticed.' She slipped her hand into mine and glanced up at me. There was a question there. I chose not to answer it. When she determined I wouldn't speak on it, Hermione continued softly. 'The boys said you haven't been in the dorms in the mornings. I said you might have been slipping out during the night, that something might be wrong.' She paused, worrying at her lip.
'They said not to worry. But they don't know you like I do.'
'You should have listened to them.'
'Not when there's obviously something wrong.' I hummed, having expected nothing different. It was in her nature.
'You put an alarm ward over our door and the fat lady.' I remembered. I had felt and seen them, recognising Hermione's magic as I moved past them.
'I did.' She admitted. 'There's nothing stopping the girls from going up your stairs.'
'And how did you know I would come here?'
'I didn't. In truth, it was a guess between here or the Chamber of Secrets. But I know you hate the chamber so...' Hermione trailed off. Her soul flexed and hummed, her mind reflected it. I said nothing in response to that, letting the silence settle. She squeezed my hand and when her soul twitched in agitation and she opened her mouth, I spoke.
'Go to sleep Hermione. I'm fine.'
She sighed. 'No. And you're lying. You are obviously not fine. You haven't even looked at me the entire time I have been here.' The witch pursed her lip. She reached up and cupped my face to make me face her. 'I am not leaving. No matter what you say. I'm not going to let you push me away.'
'I love you Hermione, but I want to be alone.' I moved my head out of her palm and took my hand from hers. 'Leave me.'
'I am not Dobby or Kreacher for you to command. Not in this.' She said, closing what little distance there was between us.
I looked down at her. 'I could force you.'
'You could.' She agreed easily. She tilted her head slightly, and warm chestnut eyes gazed up at me with curiosity. 'Why haven't you?'
Why haven't I?
The question annoyed me. I looked away and remembered where we were and why. That annoyance redoubled. I remembered what I had done the last two nights after I had cleared my mind, what I would be doing If she wasn't here…
'I came here to be alone. I came to hit something.' I told her. 'And to keep hitting it until there's nothing left.'
'The last time you wished to be alone in the room like this was after the chamber. Something must have happened. You don't have to tell me yet, but I'm not leaving.' She smiled, sharp and cutting. 'Still… if you want to hit something, you can hit me and I won't break. We can duel.'
I looked at her, soul and body, observed how tired she was after a day of lectures. I knew it would not last long. But she was stubborn when she wanted to be. Especially when it concerned me.
I sighed and I gave an incline of my head.
She took a few steps back and brought her wand up to cast, her soul singing the intent before her magic screamed it at me.
'Shield.' I warned. Her eyes widened as the air in-front of her exploded.
She skidded through the clouds smoking, her wand before her, projecting what remained of her hastily cast shield.
I began to cast, my redwood wand spat each spell out as soon as the intent came to mind.
Hermione dodged the first two and reinforced her shield to use it for the rest. She murmured something, her intent flexed, she brought down her shield, dodged and brought her wand to her lips.
When she blew on the tip, noxious green gas poured out. It spread rapidly outwards and I could tell if I inhaled any of the gas I'd be knocked out swiftly after. She was also trying to saturate the area with her magic, so I would have a harder time reading her with my eyes. She could not have known the effect that my new title had on my vison.
I cast a bubble head charm over my head with nary a thought. Hermione ripped the tiles from the floor jerk from her wand, set them aflame and sent them spinning at me.
I caught them, transfigured them to ice cold water and sent it jetting back to her. She dodged and tried to move in the gas.
I sent two stunners and a bone breaker at her. Whilst she was deflecting the spells, I made a cut against my left palm and sent the bead of blood screeching into the gas at her. It detonated against her hastily cast shield and sent her flying again.
It did not last very long after that. I helped her up to her feet with my already healing left hand.
'Go back to bed Hermione.'
'No. I already told you I'm not leaving you alone.' Hermione countered, steadfast.
She wore me down eventually, but I was in no mood to trek back to Gryffindor tower. Neither was she. The room provided, as it always did.
When we woke and she saw the effect the dreams had on me, Hermione begged for an explanation. I told her of the shack and a little of the title I now wore. She refused to leave my side.
I was more thankful than she knew.
Hermione's head on my shoulder brought me back. I blinked the thoughts away.
"We'd best get up."
"I suppose." She muttered, lifting her head up. Her arms were still wrapped around me, as if afraid to let go.
We left the room, heading for the tower. I had wrapped her in my cloak — my disillusionment was better.
"It's your birthday on Friday." I announced.
"It is?" She paused, surprised. She had forgotten it seemed. "Already? I hadn't really been paying attention." Too busy worrying about me.
"There's a portkey waiting for us after divination."
"Why? Where are we going?" Hermione whispered. We stepped onto the moving staircase, the castle was just waking up, with the portraits yawning and the knights rolling their stiff joints.
"Your birthday present." I felt the ghosts before they came through the walls and saw the chains they had keeping them tethered here. "You told me how you missed the trip with your parents to the opera house when you came to the Quidditch World Cup, even though you weren't a fan. I said I'd make it up to you did I not? Well I got us tickets to one."
"Really? Are you serious? Oh Harry thank you!" Although I couldn't see her expression through the cloak, I could tell she was immensely pleased. "It'll be great, you'll see. Oh but Ron will hate it. And I don't know if Neville—"
"It'll just be me and you. It's your birthday after all." I removed the charm as we approached the fat lady, and Hermione did the same with the cloak.
"Really?" The thought of just the two of us seemed to please her more, as I knew that it would. She beamed at my nod. "Which one are we going to? Why do we need a portkey?"
"You always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty didn't you?" I gave her a small smile. She squealed and launched at me with glee.
"I shouldn't have been surprised." She said, her tone dripping exasperation. "I should have known the portkey would have been illegal."
I stuck my head out of the corner of the alley, taking in everything with a glance.
Those who walked the street were dull and listless, drones moving about their day to day lives with only a glimmer of light oozing from their souls. There seemed to be a never ending tide of them, and they made the sound to match. The city was awake and it was likely to never sleep.
With her magic, the witch behind me was a torch in comparison to little glimmer of the muggles around.
Hermione stood in contrast to the alleyway as she did with the muggles outside of it. Beautiful in her midnight dress that shimmered and sparkled with every turn. Her brown hair, now a mane of jet-black ringlets that fell easily to the small of her back, shifted as she moved. Eyes of bronze had been glamoured to be the blue-green of the sea.
"The ministry checks wands, Jean." I held my right hand out for her to take. As she did so, I brushed my blonde hair out of my eyes and apparated us forward. "And mine is well known." I explained.
"I know, I'm only teasing. I'm surprised you didn't make us use aging potions as well." Said 'Jean'. I made note of those around before we apparated once again.
After the Obscurus incident of 1926 and the escape of the underground mole people( a relatively minor goblin dispute ) in 1956, MACUSA was even stricter than most countries with the use of magic near muggles, especially in New York.
"With the glamours we look old enough to pass for recent Illvermony graduates." I brought us up to a rooftop for a better vantage. A slight breeze sent my suit and tie fluttering. I looked down, where the non magical were dull and almost lifeless, the Aurors, hidden though the tried to be, burned bright. "We'd only have needed a few drops of the potion anyway, and I'd rather not risk a headache."
She hummed and smiled wanly. "Have you had much experience with aging potions 'James'?"
"I have actually." Hermione giggled, thinking it a joke. One more jump brought us across the street from our destination.
"You'll have to tell me all about it."
"I plan to." I heard myself say, thinking of Fleur. Take responsibility, she said… I caught Hermione's eye. Easier said than done.
When I told her that truth, how would she take it?
Hermione and I were… intimate. Not in the same way as Fleur and I, but to call it anything else would be a disservice.
Her mind was always open to me. There was a steep power imbalance. She knew it and I did too. When I was there with her mind wrapped around mine and mine around hers, I could do as I pleased and she would not resist. She would not even think to.
She loved me. I knew her mind like no other. She loved me. It was an unhealthy and obsessive kind of love. An unintentional one of my own making, but it was love all the same.
Trying to put a stop to it as I had in first year only resulted in me punishing and depriving her for my own mistake. It was too late to try that again anyhow.
She was just as like to dismiss Fleur and not see her as a threat as she was to hurt her for daring to touch what was hers, even though the fault lay with me. But Hermione wouldn't care. She was not exactly logical when it came to me.
And whose fault is that?
I shook the thought away. I'd deal with it as it came. As long as they were both happy in the end, nothing else mattered.
"Anyway, this is it."
The Metropolitan Opera House stood before us in all its glory. It could seat thousands and it did so happily. The auditorium spread out like a fan, the seats made it up with rich red and warm gold accents.
We sat, all of us who had come today for the rendition of Carmen, swallowed up under bright lights and chandeliers that glimmered as much as any diamond could hope to.
The lights dimmed and the orchestra came to life, soft at first but then swelling and the story began. One of passion and obsession. A true ballad about jealousy and the death that often trailed it.
There was a certain irony there. Tears were shed by the audience and by Hermione most of all when Don José murdered his lover in a fit of rage.
We shared a quiet dinner after before retiring to our hotel for the night. I had never seen Hermione smile so wide and freely. The joy she oozed was infectious.
I had booked two rooms but Hermione flicked me in the forehead and pulled me into hers.
We stood together on the balcony. Her, watching the stars on the canvas of black above. Me, observing the flickering of life moving the through the city below us.
"Thank you Harry." Hermione said from my side. "This has been the best birthday."
"Yet." I added, turning to face her and joining her eyes with mine. "There will be many more to come. I plan for us to see everything this world has to offer."
They say that the eyes are the windows into the soul. That is not untrue. For the capable, the mind can be observed through the eyes and for the truly blessed, even without.
The mind is a reflection of the soul and so to is the body. They are linked, and in this plane there cannot be one without the other.
As I lightly press my mind up against her and feel her eager response, I observe her living soul. Everything she is. Everything she wants to be. Everything she is willing to do for me and for herself.
When she smiles up at me, it is with all the love in her mind and from the depths of her soul. "I cannot wait." She said. At some point the distance between us had disappeared. I felt the words against my lips, and then I felt more.
Her lips pressed against mine softly, chaste and almost shy. I hesitated for half a second before I kissed back. She clawed at my hair to bring me further down, her soul lit up and her magic, books and knowledge and danger, lit up to match. I pulled away.
"W-what is it?" Hermione whined. Her eyes had pooled with longing and her lips were pulling back in frustration. "Why did you stop?"
I took a breath and I slipped fully into her mind.
'There's something you must see.'
I showed her my journey to Paris, the tavern, Fleur, the werewolves and the night after.
She watched and I felt her mind, there was anger —yes, frustration, and jealousy and arousal too. She did not pull away, her mind clung to me tighter than it ever had, clawing at me desperately. No doubt to ensure I did not slip away, but deep down, perhaps to hurt me also.
'Why are you showing me this Harry?'
To take responsibility. 'Because I am tired of lying.'
'Did she bewitch you?' I would have laughed if I could not tell she was being serious.
'No. She didn't.' Doubt swam with anger and uncertainty in her.
'How can you be sure?'
'I know myself. Now better than ever. And you would have noticed.' I felt relief flood her and the anger dimmed.
'T-this… this changes nothing. That was three years ago. You came back to ME.'
'I did, and I always will. But…' I hesitated. 'I am still with her. And she is coming to Hogwarts.' Hermione released her grip on me as if burned. I pulled back.
"Harry," Hermione said sharply. "Why are you telling me this?"
She took a step back from me and before I could speak, began to pace around the balcony. The moonlight sent her dressing to sparkling and the jewels and diamonds on her ring, bracelet and necklace shined also.
She stopped her pacing abruptly. "You made a promise to me." Her voice sounded particularly fragile.
"That I have kept, and intend to keep." I stepped up to her and raised a hand. She frowned, glanced at it and looked at me. She did not back away, so I used it to place lock of her brown hair behind her ear.
"I'm sorry if I have upset you." Hermione Granger's eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. "I asked you to stay by my side… but that doesn't mean you can't—"
"Don't be a fool." She interjected with venom. "You are mine."
She grabbed my hand from her face, interlocked them with hers and gave it a harsh squeeze. "You are… aren't you? Whatever you have with her… whatever it is, is nothing compared to us."
Her normally gentle brown eyes were filled with heat. I met them with iridescent green and fell back into her mind with wings set aflame to help her settle. She felt me and tried to reach for me. I trailed my talons against the edges of her mind before she grabbed me and she shivered and almost melted like play dough in my hands. I pulled back again.
Her cheeks were flushed and she was slightly breathless.
"I will not pretend to like her," Hermione said after some time. She looked up at me with half lidded eyes. "If that's what all this is for."
"I'm not asking you to. I just don't want you to hurt each other."
"You don't want me to kill her is what you mean." She said, her voice leaking resentment.
I sighed and smiled at her wanly. "I would like it very much if you didn't."
Perhaps she was joking, but… "In return, you can ask for anything and I'll do it."
Hermione squinted at me. "You're serious? She means that much to… You know I wouldn't… I wasn't actually going to…" She stopped, paused and thought.
After a few moments she bit her lip and looked back up at me. She said the last thing I would've expected.
"…Marry me."
I blinked.
"What?"
"You said anything." She said, her tone had grown hard. I stared and could think of nothing to say except.
"You're fifteen." She frowned at me as if the concern was stupid.
"And you are fourteen. I did not mean today." Hermione said. "No… not today, but soon."
She cupped my face and continued in a voice soft as snow. "The way wizards and witches used to do it. Let us join our blood together. You were made for me, as I was for you. With this, nothing will ever come between us." Her eyes were growing wet. "I-i love you Harry Potter. I have loved you since the day I met you, and I have fallen more in love with you everyday since.
"You know… you know that I could never… would never leave you. But the thought of staying by your side, being so close but not actually being with you… and watching you with someone else — with her…it would be agony.
"But if we did this, then I'd know you felt the same. That you loved me as much as I love you, even if you decided to… keep her."
I heard the truth in her words but I also knew the cold calculus behind them. She wanted to make a blood pact, to ensure I would never even think of setting her aside. I wouldn't have, I would never think to hurt her in such a way… but she couldn't be sure of that. The blood pact would be her way of ensuring her safety.
I looked down at Hermione Granger and observed what hubris and good intentions could create.
Take responsibility.
Her eyes were molten and bubbling with so much emotion. They pulled me in.
"I need you, Harry." She confessed.
I gave in.
I had been lying to myself for a long time. But as I had said to Hermione:
I am tired of lying.
So I kissed her and I deepened it still. Because men are mortal. We are born. We live. We die. Most are not remembered and their life is but a spark, or a whisper in the wind.
As her lips pressed against mine and parted, I brought my soul up to bear and touched hers slightly. She moaned and pulled me until she was pressed between balustrade and me.
As the stars smiled down at us from above and New York screamed up at us from below, I glimpsed what I knew to be true. Death was always near. That is what makes life beautiful. The act of living itself. And the fact that it must eventually end. You cannot have one without the other. Death is the price for life.
I saw Hermione old and frail. It flicked. I saw her cut down with a killing curse. A vision of her rotting a way in a dark gloomy cell. Her lifeless, drowning white sheets in red with a child's cry beyond. Her older once more surrounded by countless people, some brown haired or black or silver but all with the green eyes of death.
With death ever near, let us do as we please.
We broke the kiss after sometime. It tasted of vanilla with a hint of warm cinnamon. Hermione leaned her forehead against mine.
"Is… that… a yes?" She asked, panting.
"It is."
"Good. Don't leave me again." My wife to be warned. "I like you much better alive. I'd prefer to keep you that way."
She kissed me again. After what I had done to her, what I had turned her into… who was I to say no?
The leaves were swaying in the wind and the trees of the forbidden forest were waving their branches. In spring and summer, the tall oak trees and the fat birch trees stood sentinel side by side with manes of green that blotted out the sun and the clouds from below.
Now their leaves were orange and red, and they littered the ground and crunched noisily underfoot as I walked.
There were werewolves in these woods it was said, though I had never seen them. They kept to themselves and at night their howls were indistinguishable from their less intelligent cousins besides.
My cloak fluttered as the wind brushed against it, rippling like water and trailing against the ground. There were eyes in forest from a hundred different beasts, magical and otherwise. They failed to find purchase on me as I made my way through.
One of those creatures was ahead of me. Half man, half horse. Above the waste was all man. Fair skin and flowing white-gold hair that fell to where the horse began. It was gleaming and powerful, filled with magic that sang of long empty grass plains and the thrumming of a bowstring.
He trotted left to right, sniffing and thrusting his head this way and that, in search for something.
Or someone.
I pulled the hood of the cloak back, and let the invisibility fade. The centaur's head swung over to me and his eyes met mine for half a second before he looked away from them. They were blue on blue, and I felt that familiar static that I had attributed to divination crackling in my ears as I looked at him.
"Harry Potter," The beast said, with no amount of surprise. As he spoke, his voice was deep and rich and echoed through the trees. "You are… immense. But I had expected more… you seem diminished."
"A tad." I took a step closer and he took one back. "The wand is not with me."
The centaur did not respond to that bar a tilt of his head. He seemed wary and content to keep his distance. I let him. I had no cause to hurt him and if I wanted to, a few metres or a hundred went going to stop me.
"If I were to ask for a name, would you give it, centaur?"
"I would. I am called Firenze." The half man, half horse said. The name was familiar, if barely.
"You were waiting for me. Did you see us meeting today in the stars, Firenze?" I wondered what exactly he saw that placed him in my path and if it was anymore accurate than the norm.
"I saw us meeting." He hesitated. " I knew the where, but I did not know the when for sure. Death is hard to glimpse. We should have met earlier, but things are always changing." He stared at me as if I was to blame. Perhaps I was. He and Harry were meant to meet in first year right?
"I see." I said. His eyes continued to bore into me. "What is it you want, Firenze?"
"Nothing and everything… but my wants do not matter." Said the horse man. "And you, North Star?"
North Star is it? Curious… "I would have expected you to know at least that."
"We see much and very little. Things are always changing." I heard the truth in his words and remembered what happened when I touched a soul with mine. The future was always in flux.
"Freedom." I told him. "For both your kind and mine." He nodded his head and sent white-gold hair swinging. "I would ask for the assistance of the centaur's when the time comes."
"We do not interfere." His lips quirked up slightly as he said it.
"Is that so?" I tilted my head, smiling and watching him as he watched me. "Centaur-kind have fought battles before. You would have fought for Hogwarts too."
"This war is not that war. One future is not the other." He said, crossing his arms. "The intermission is almost at an end."
I blinked, confused. "Intermission?"
"This lull between battles. The false peace." Is he speaking of Voldemort or something else?
"You can gain what you seek, though the price will be steep." The centaur went on to say.
"That is good to know. The price?" I asked.
"Fire, or Control." Firenze said simply.
"I see."
"You do not. Not yet. But you will. The girl will help you. Keep her close."
Which one?
I almost asked but I doubted he would give me a straight answer, and the centaur continued on before I could.
"I have said too much as it is." He admitted though he did not sound too apologetic about it.
"You have said very little."
"Very little is still too much." He countered.
"I could always just take a look at your mind, I'd have no use for your cryptic words then." I told him, prodding and hoping that he would elaborate.
"You could. I cannot stop you. But you wish to have the centaurs for friends, looking would not help you in that goal… and perhaps what you see shall confuse you further." He said with a calm certainty. "Continue onwards, Harry Potter. I shall bring your words to my people. We shall meet again. Farewell."
He tipped his head to me before he rode off and vanished into the trees.
I watched him and contemplated his words for a moment, then decided put the interaction from my mind. His words were vague and told me nothing truly. It would make sense when it did and not a moment sooner.
I began to walk again and arrived at the clearing a few minutes after.
The Thestrals were lazing but a foul perked up when it noticed me and bounded over. I pulled a raw slab of meat from my pocket and tossed it at the little one.
Milk white eyes watched me with interest from where she was sitting on the ground. The mother was as big as a horse but skeletal, seemingly malnourished and withered as all thestrals were. As I approached, I moved slowly so as not to spook her. Behind me her child was engaged with the raw meat and when I brought my bloody hand down to her she licked it enthusiastically.
I gave her food as well and settled down next to her, leaning on her side. The magic was familiar, there was a connection between us now.
I looked at the stone on my finger. There was something I had to do and I had delayed too long for fear of a truth I already knew.
I did not have to turn it. I focused and they came.
"My sweet boy." A voice said. I looked up and saw her.
She was as I remembered her in the dreams. Eyes of sparkling green water and hair that was kissed by fire. She was pale, almost ghostly but beautiful still.
Lily was leaning against a man that could have passed for my older brother. His hair was like the night and as messy as any crows nest. Though where his was short, mine was long and fell to my nape.
It felt like looking in a mirror. The same shaped eyes and nose, his smile was the one I had grown used to seeing in the mirror. The only difference between us it seemed was that he wore big round glasses in front of his eyes, which were muddy brown flecked with death's green.
"Hello son." James Potter said. The voice and their faces really put into perspective how young they were, how much they'd lost for their son… all for me to take it away.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you." I said I looked up at them. "But… I'm not your son."
Lily potter smiled gently at me. "Oh, but you are Harry."
"No, you don't understand…" How would I explain that I may have murdered their son and was now wearing his skin?
"But we do Harry." The boy's father said. "You are our son, in all the ways that matter."
"You have his soul." Lily said. She reached a hand down to caress my cheek. As her freezing hand ghosted over my skin, it left goosebumps in its wake. "You have his body. He lives in you, but he was young and you've absorbed him. He lives through you."
I searched my soul and found nothing but me. I would have to trust their judgment then, sometime in the eleven years I had been here the boys soul was either absorbed or evicted.
I knew which they believed but still…
I had expected… something, anger? Vitriol maybe… I shouldn't have been surprised.
The summons that the ring brought forth were shades. Similar to the magic portraits that wizards sat for, these shades were the imprints of magic and self that the soul had left behind on this side of the veil.
The longer someone had been dead, the less like the person the shade actually was. As master I could do more, I could pull forth the dead fully from the other side of the veil at the expense of causing them immense pain.
I did not think it warranted for Lily and James, they had only been dead for thirteen years. The shades were still them at the end of the day if slightly lesser, and their feelings on the matter were as they said.
"I'm sorry." They shook their heads. Lily wiped a tear about to fall from her eyes.
"Don't be Harry," she said. "You did nothing wrong and we're so happy you're alive."
They moved as one and settled on either side of me, holding me in the cold, dead arms.
"Tell us everything." Urged Lily softly. "I want to know everything there is to know about my son."
Where should I start? I thought. The good? The bad? Hermione and Fleur flashed through my mind. I choked the laugh before it could fully bubble up.
"Well, I suppose I should start with the most important thing." I looked between them, noting their interest. "I'm getting married." I said pleasantly.
"You're what!?" Lily exclaimed.
"What are you in, your sixth year?" James chuckled and shook his head. "Don't tell me you got some girl pregnant. I told minerva the sexual education—"
"I'm fourteen." I cut in.
There was an audible snap as James mouth slammed shut. Lily potter let out a scream of shock. James stared at me, hoping it was a joke. I smiled at him and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You're being serious. All of a sudden it's not funny. What the hell is Sirius doing?" Muttered James under his breath.
"It was never funny!" His wife said to him. She snapped her head back to me. "What happened? Don't leave anything out, young man."
"You're only seven years older than me." I laughed. Her right eye twitched and James scooted away slightly. Though Lily Potter wasn't actually my mother, no one could replace her, I hurried to explain. "Right! So it went like this…"
I told them everything. There wasn't any need for secrets or lies between us. No one could see them lest I allowed it, I could look through their eyes and control them if I wished and if I gave them a command they had no option but to obey.
By the end of the tale, the sky was bleeding red, orange and purple behind the canopy as the sunset. Lily was pacing and rubbing her forehead as James laughed heartily to my left.
"James love," Lily sighed. "This is not funny."
"Lils, come on. Relax. We should be proud of our son." James said between chuckles.
"I am filled with pride." She snapped. "But not for this. He's dating two girls, and is about to marry one at fourteen! All because he couldn't keep it in his pants. This… this is your fault. This is exactly something you would do." A weary groan left her lips.
James only smiled. "Come on, you know there was only one woman for me."
"Is that so? You had a funny way of showing it up until our sixth year."
"That was Remus' fault." My lips quirked up at that. It was easy to see how he, Remus and Sirius could have became the best of friends. Peter though…
"I have a headache. Spare me." Lily glared at her husband. "Even when we're dead you're still infuriating." She turned to me narrowed eyes. "Now back to you mister. You're way too young to marry!"
A smile made its way to my lips. "You were married young."
"Not that young!" Said Lily. "And there was a war! Everyone was marrying young."
"There's about to be another," I reminded her. "Though, it'll be short if I have my way."
"You'd best hope there are no prophecied babies in your future. I can tell you from experience that they can be quite stressful." James said, though the said he showed was wistful.
I laughed against the Thestral, leaning back into it. As I did I felt its heartbeat through its leathery skin. Faint and slow like mine. The great obsidian tower swept through my minds eye, I felt the wards against my skin, the patronus on my shoulder and death rushing green from my wand. I blinked the memory away.
"To be honest," I said. "I'm surprised you guys aren't more upset about Azkaban and the other things."
"Azkaban is disgusting and inhumane." The dead woman said. "It's an affront to every human rights legislation. You put them out of their misery. Though I wish you wouldn't use dark magic."
"And they were death eaters. No one is going to miss them, they were basically dead already." James voiced.
"They were still people James." Lily said.
"Disgusting people." James spat. "Some of them not even that." Wormtail I knew.
James Potter's hatred of Pettigrew had only grown when I mentioned what happened to Sirius. The was a quiet satisfaction in him when I told him of peters fate. Peter cost the man his family, not doubt in my shoes he would have done worse to him.
"Still… I guess I expected you to balk a bit more at that." I admitted. They shared a glance.
"It's not like you tortured them, son." James ruffled my hair, ruining the work sleekeazy had done to set it. "I think you forget we fought in the war. We've killed people."
"I didn't just kill them. I murdered them. And I'll likely have to do worse before this all over."
"Will you?" Lily kneeled before me and trailed a hand across my cheek. "No one is forcing you, love. You could disappear."
"Tom will not let me for one." I sighed.
"And after?" James asked.
"After… I don't know if I'll be able to rest easy if I don't fix things. It's… the only explanation of why I'm here. Otherwise…" Lily smiled sadly.
"Am I wrong to feel that way?" I asked them.
"Who can say?" James shrugged. "All we ever wanted for you was the ability to grow up Harry."
"To grow up and be happy, but because of that stupid prophecy…" Lily shook her head in frustration. She chewed at her lip. "Whatever you do, we'll be proud of you. And we'll be happy if you're happy, as long as you don't lose yourself along the way."
Those words shouldn't have meant anything to me, but they did. They were words for a boy who was dead, who had never lived… but I heard them. And for some reason, they meant something.
I smiled at them. "Thank you. It really means—"
Warmth flooded the ring, it thrummed on my finger. I ran my magic through it. The smoke came wafting up, silver and milky and sparkling.
"Harry, where are you?" Neville said after the mist took shape. There was muttering in the background and he was moving.
Ron stuck his head over the other boy's shoulder. "Mate, the other schools will be pulling up soon."
I had lost track of time. "Thanks for reminding me. Are you guys at the entrance hall yet?"
"Almost," Said Neville. "We were waiting for you."
"Where are you anyway?" Ron asked. "I bet Hermione a galleon you were doing something stupid or dangerous."
I snorted. "You just lost a galleon. I'll be there soon." I cut the feed and the mist faded. I looked up to find both of the shades smiling at me.
"What is it?" I looked between them.
"Oh nothing." Said James, still smiling.
"It's just nice to see you and watch you interact with your friends." Lily said in response. She laid an icy palm on my head. "I suppose this is goodbye?"
"Not yet. Not if you don't want it to be." I stood up and patted the sleeping thestrals bony body. "I thought you might like to meet the girls."
The walk back to the castle was not particularly long. It passed by with my two hanger ons musing about how little Hogwarts had changed.
I came up the path from the forbidden forest and walked to the castle's great doors. The entrance hall was illuminated and I could see the large congregation of students lining up to greet the two delegations.
The evening was cold and clear now; dusk was in the midst of falling and the moon was a shining silver colour above the forest behind me.
I could hear the crowd. They were murmuring and shivering with cold and anticipation. It had been like this all day. A sort of nervous atmosphere around the school. Everyone eager. Everyone questioning; how did students from the other schools compare to us? Who would be champion? Did they truly practice dark magic at Durmstrang?
I slipped around the crowd to where the Gryffindors were and spotted my year in the fourth row from the front. With the cloak on no one had noticed my approach.
Hermione, Neville and Ron were off to the side slightly.
"Who'd reckon will get here first?" Asked Ron. He, like everyone else, was staring down the drive, searching for any sign of the other schools.
"Beaubaxtons." Answered Hermione. There was a frown on her lips. "They've got less to travel."
"You don't seem too happy about that." Said Neville.
"Oh I'm just thrilled, can't you tell?" Hermione said sweetly.
"Sorry, sorry." Neville held his hands up in surrender. "No need to chew my head off."
"I'm sorry, it's just…"
"We know." Ron squeezed her shoulder. "Still, I didn't expect you to be nervous."
"Yeah I'm sure you're way prettier than she is." Neville said, trying to cheer her up and lighten the mood.
"She's not… exactly human." Hermione said, irritated. "She's a Veela."
"She is?" Questioned Ron. "Harry must definitely love you."
"I do indeed." I slipped off the cloak.
"Bloody hell!" Ron jumped and nearly landed on a Slytherin fifth year. "Wear a bell would you?"
"Where have you been?" Hermione asked, as soon as she laid eyes on me.
"The forest." I laid a kiss on her cheek, she seemed to turn pink and any annoyance vanished. Katie Bell let out an awww, at the display, I sent her hair ruffling with a flick of my finger. "I was using the stone."
"How was it?" Neville asked. He was searching the sky with no luck.
"Better than I thought." I admitted. I felt the shades smiling at my back. I ignored them. "The offer still stands, you know."
I looked towards the lake. My gaze pierced the waters and saw a great galley moving across the rivers bed.
"Let me think on it—" Neville was saying before he was cut off by a noise. A deep groaning that cut off all chattering.
"I do believe our friends are here." Professor Dumbledore called out.
"The Lake!" Lee Jordan yelled, as if he was commentating a quidditch match. "It's coming from the lake."
"That's my cue." I brought Hermione's fingers to my lips and left my friends for the headmaster.
The water was breaking, and a whirlpool had formed, as if circling a drain. A black mast appeared from the dark waters followed by the rest of the great wreck of a ship.
It was shimmering in the moonlight, black as a starless night with great scars and dents at its sides, likely from some battle against a great sea monster. There were lights in its portholes, from where the student body had gathered on top of the lawns overlooking the Hogwarts grounds, they seemed like wide unblinking eyes.
The headmaster was wearing purple today, trimmed with gold. Across his resplendent robes, miniatures of the school's mascots danced and fought and came together as one.
"My apologies professor."
"All is forgiven Harry." Dumbledore replied. He smiled and his blue peered at me over his golden half moon spectacles. "In truth you are right on time."
He lowered his voice. "I trust you are feeling better?"
"A little each day." I felt the wand on him, it was reaching out for me, aching for completion. I ignored it. It was not needed for now.
The ship was still moving across the lake when I looked back. A splash was heard as an anchor was thrown down. I watched it sink to the shallows.
The durmstrang contingent followed shortly after, walking down the plank from their ghost ship. All of them were wearing cloaks made of thick furs with enchantments woven in between them to stave off the cold. It was the one leading them who drew my attention, specifically the taint on his left arm.
"Dumbledore!" Igor Karkaroff called out heartily. "How are you, my good man, how are you?"
"Quite well, thank you, Professor Karkaroff." Dumbledore called back.
The death eaters magic was… slimy. But not so unappealing as wormtail's. His hair, cut short, was sliver like his cloak and he stood of a height with Dumbledore. He was smiling when he came upon us and shook Albus's hand with both of his own. But the smile did not reach his eyes, which stayed shrewd and without warmth.
"You know who this is of course." Dumbledore said, turning to me as they concluded the handshaking.
He froze for a moment but quickly regained composure.
"Harry Potter, tis is pleasure to meet you." Igor's eyes grew colder as he said it.
I let myself smile. "The pleasure is all mine professor. On behalf of the ministry, welcome back Britain."
Karkaroff's smile turned brittle and his thoughts swam and slipped through the barrier he tried to put up. His Occlumency was weak, rather like his chin, which his curling silver goatee did little to hide.
"It is good to be back." He looked away. "Very good… very good indeed. Victor, come now… come into the warmth… you don't mind Dumbledore? The journey did not agree with him." Karkaroff beckoned.
As the student came forward, I recognised him. A stocky boy with thick black eyebrows and magic that tasted like the wind.
As he made his way from his fellows, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Ron shouted. "Victor Krum!?"
Bulgarian rolled off my tongue. "Victor. It is good to see you again."
His face, usually carved from granite morphed into something resembling a smile. He pulled me into a hug.
"Harry Potter," Krum said. "It seems we shall have that quidditch match after all."
Durmstrang made their way into the entrance hall for warmth whilst the rest of us remained outside. Beauxbatons would arrive shortly, in a flying carriage if I remembered correctly.
Fleur will be with them.
That was all my mind was on as we waited and the student body grew cold, and anxious.
My mind continued to turn. First Fleur. Then Hermione and the blood pact she wished to make.
They came from above the forbidden forest in a blue carriage the size of a house packed to the brim with expansion charms. The carriage was pulled by Abaxans. Elephantine winged horses that I knew from Fleur Madam Maxine breed in her spare time.
The golden beasts landed powerful crash that had the first few rows of Hogwarts students lurching back in fright.
Where the Thestrals were skinny and malnourished, these winged horses were rippling with thick corded muscles and looked as if they had never missed a meal.
The woman who led them out was handsome with black eyes and long black hair pulled into a knot at the base of her neck. Everything about her was big. She might have even been taller than Hagrid and she dwarfed the student body who gazed up at her in shock and awe.
Dumbledore was a tall man but she made him look as much of a child as the rest of us when she brought her hand out for him to kiss.
"My dear Madame Maxine," Said Dumbledore. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," Maxine's voice was deep and rumbling. "I 'ope you are well, yes?"
"Quite well, thank you." As Dumbledore finished, I took a step forward. The giantess took me in with a glance and as her dark eyes found the scar, they gleamed.
"Madam Maxine, I have the honour of welcoming you to Britain on behalf of the ministry." Her eyebrows rose pleasantly surprised at my French. She gave me her enormous hand to kiss, my lips pressed against the diamonds that danced on her fingers. "I hope your stay is pleasant one."
"Thank you, Monsieur Potter." She turned and waved. "My pupils."
They had emerged from the carriage, a dozen boys and girls in silk blue, each of them shivering and looking at the castle in apprehension. I stepped past the headmistress as she and Albus continued to speak, my eyes a found familiar deep blue.
She was wearing gloves, a scarf and a head muffler like all the rest of her contingent. Her long straight silvery-blonde hair fell past her waist and she smiled her white smile.
"Madamosielle Delacour," Fleur removed her glove and held her fingers out for me. I took a knee and brought the hand to my lips. As I kissed her hand, I brought soul up and brushed it against hers. She shivered and I saw glimpses.
Dragon fire, a snake with burning red eyes, Paris and the Eiffel tower alight, a flash of green in Salam, Fleur as an old woman but still just as beautiful, surrounded by people with green eyes and hair that was either black, brown or silver.
I stood, she kissed both my cheeks and pulled me into a hug. "Mon cherí, are you alright? …your magic… it's…"
"It's fine." I pulled back. "There is a lot I must tell you," I saw the eyes on us and the buzzing of the students around us. "I'll explain everything when we can speak freely."
"You better." Said Fleur. She shivered and pulled her gloves back on in response. "It is too cold. I hate it already."
A slight flush was present on her cheeks. I smiled, amused. "It's not that cold, you're lucky it's not raining."
"Thank Merlin for small mercies." The part-Veela frowned. "If they keep this up though, I shall be warm in no time."
The 'they' in question were my fellow Hogwarts students. Some of the boys closest to us were staring open-mouthed but it was not them she was on about, it was the girls.
They were glaring, and they had been since Fleur pulled me into a hug. Pavti, lavender, Ginny and Katie bell, just to name a few. Hermione was trying to appear unmoved but her clenched fists gave her away.
I shrugged at Fleur. "I cannot help that I am attractive."
"Is that all it is?" Her eyes sparkled in amusement. "And you have not smiled that smile at them or flirted at all?"
"No?" For some reason she did not believe me, and gave a tinkling laugh.
"Liar."
"Fleur," A girl is Beauxbatons blue called. "The madam wants us inside."
"A moment Amiee." Fleur said back. "I'd best go then." She smiled coyly at me. "The castle is big, for Englishmen. I shall need a tour."
"You shall have one, when I am able."
"Do you still plan to compete?" Fleur asked.
"To win." I smiled at her. "I do not anticipate much competition."
"Oh on that we agree, my love. When I am chosen, my win is all but guaranteed." She kissed my cheek and left to join her school. I fell into the Hogwarts crowd as we made our way to the entrance hall.
'So… What do you think?' I asked.
James was beaming with pride where Lily sighed in exasperation.
"You may be the luckiest bastard to ever wear the name Potter." James laughed.
Lily massaged her head as we walked. "When this blows up in your faces, do not say I didn't warn you."
The castle was still asleep when Fred, George, Ron and I slipped from the Gryffindor common room for the great hall.
After the feast the night before and Dumbledore's announcement of the age line, I had been cornered by all those In Gryffindor below the age of seventeen that wished to enter.
Fred and George led the charge.
"Harry—" Started whom I assumed was Fred.
"—old buddy," Said George, smiling.
"You still plan to enter the tournament, right?" Asked Fred.
I smiled at them, amused and knew where this was going. "I do."
"Excellent. Now, we know you're brilliant—"
"—Truly extraordinary, never seen anyone better—"
"—So no doubt you have a way past the good headmasters age line." Said George.
I smiled at the and said nothing. They grew antsy.
"You do, don't you?" Fred asked, suddenly anxious. They had not even conceived that j might have a reliable way through. George and the crowd behind them leaned forward in anticipation. Hermione shook her head at the display.
"Of course."
"'Of course' he says." One twin looked to the other. "Why did we ever doubt him Feorge?"
"No idea, Gred." Said the other. He turned back to me with a smile. "So will you tell us how, so we can do it too?"
"No." You could hear a pin drop. I saw the shock and other emotions dancing on their faces. I continued before they could scream. "But… if you write your names and give it to me, I shall add it to the goblet when I place mine."
There was shouts of joy at that, but someone cried out from the back of the group.
"How do we know you'll actually do it?"
"For one, I have no reason to lie to you, Mclaggin. It costs me nothing. And if I was chosen but you guys didn't get the opportunity, would it be because I was worthy or because it wasn't able to choose one of you?" There was some nodding there and muttering, but someone cried still weren't convinced. I sighed and continued on,
"I'll let Fred and George accompany me, if that'll make you feel better." They seemed pleased with that.
"This stays between us though. Professor Dumbledore knows I'll try to enter, he said if I wanted to compete I would have to get past his age line. He knows I'll be fine in the competition, but he'll be quite upset if he finds out I put all your names in. So keep it quiet! I mean it, if one of you blabs I'll make your life hell." I said. "Understand?" They nodded. Hermione whispered in my ear before they could disperse. "Good point, I'll take no names under fourth year. I'll not have your death on my conscience."
There was some groaning at that but they accepted in the end. They had no choice.
We snuck down from the tower, Fred and George were few paces behind, walking sleepily. Ron and I were talking freely with a silencing charm set.
"Ron, are you sure you don't want me to put your name in?"
He laughed. "Mate, what would be the point? It's going to choose you. It would be stupid not to."
"We don't know how it determines who it'll choose." I reminded him.
"It doesn't matter," Ron said. "By any metric, it's you. I don't even want to compete in the tournament anyway."
"You don't?" I frowned. "Why not? Did Nev and Hermione convince you it was too dangerous?"
"Not really. But if one of the tasks was acromantulas, I'd probably wet myself and die." He admitted, I snorted. "Mate, I wasn't joking… No, but seriously I guess I don't really care about it? I mean sure, a thousand gallons would be great and it'd really help mom and dad but… We've got more important things to worry about.
"I was a little surprised seeing that you wanted to enter, but I know you. You don't do things for no reason."
"You're right." I said, as we turned the corner. I made to tell him, but he shook his head.
"Later." Ron frowned as we walked, mulling something over. "Harry, promise me one thing, yeah?"
"Sure mate, anything."
"It's about Hermione." There was a seriousness to his tone that was rarely there. "Don't hurt her."
"I'm not going to." I gazed at him out of the corner of my eye. "Where's this coming from?"
"I know we argue and bicker over everything, and I wind her up a lot …" he started. "But she's like a sister to me. She's always been there for you, even when you shut me and Neville out. She's been in love with you since first year. It seemed like everyone saw except for you. Maybe you did see it? Or just didn't want to. But you never did anything. And now with this frenchie…
"I'm not judging mate. I know what you see in Fleur. Believe me, I do." He grinned slightly. "They don't make them like that in Hogwarts but mate, Hermione is… Hermione. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"
I did. And it was kind of him. He didn't know about the blood pact, and Hermione probably wouldn't open fully about how she felt to anyone but me. Yet Ron had eyes, and as always, he was trying to help a friend.
"If you have to choose… only one of them knows who you really are and what we've been up to. If you must choose, pick Hermione, I'd say. And don't hurt her." He repeated.
"I won't." I said, as we came upon the great hall. "That's the last thing I want to do."
"Good." Ron nodded, pleased. "Oh, and never mention this conversation to her. Ever."
I chuckled. "Of course."
Slipping by the age line with the deathly hallow was child's play and I entered the prospective Gryffindor's names and mine as I said I would.
The rest of the day flew by.
The Saturday was spent watching others submit their names if they were older than seventeen or fail spectacularly if they weren't. There was no time to speak with Fleur, as she was always either with her classmates or Madam Maxine in her blue house, though I did catch her eye she dropped her name into the flaming wooden goblet.
The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was the second feast in two days. After a long while, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. Maxine and Karkaroff got up with him, both looking tense. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Gerald Gardener, Barty Crouch's replacement, wore a Hufflepuff tie and let a small smile grace his lips.
"Well, it looks like it's time." Said Dumbledore. He swished the elder wand and all the lights in the room went out, barring of course, the goblet of fire and its white-blue flames.
"Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber"— the headmaster indicated the door behind the staff table —"where they will be receiving their first instructions."
At that moment, the Goblets blue flames turned blood red. Sparks began to fly from it. The next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it and the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
And that was no surprise to me. Even if I didn't know it was coming, I would have expected nothing less. Victor's magic was the strongest from Durmstrang.
Viktor slouched away to the room on Dumbledore's right and the clapping and chatter died down. Everyone's attention was on the goblet once more as it turned red.
It shot out the second one. A pink piece of parchment that Dumbledore caught deftly.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
She rose gracefully as she did all things, shook out her sheet of silver-blond hair, caught my eye from across the room and winked at me.
"That hussy!" Hermione hissed.
"Relax." I said. I brought our joined fingers to my lips.
The silence after Fleur disappeared was different. This was it. The anticipation in the air was so thick you could taste it. The Hogwarts champion…
Would it be Cedric? Warrington, the big brute from Slytherin? Me? Someone else?
People had started drumming their feet on the floors and it had picked up around the hall, reaching a crescendo. Some people were turning to me, confident on who it would be.
I wanted it, but I didn't know the criteria. I remembered Ron's words though and looked to Dumbledore.
He plucked the third parchment out and read it. He read it again and laughed. When his eyes turned to me twinkling, I knew.
"The Hogwarts champion," He called, "is Harry Potter!"
And the world around me seemed to explode with life. Every Gryffindor was on their feet screaming and shouting and stamping. Neville and Ron brought their wands together and fired off a blast. The firework lit up the great hall, it turned into a roaring red and gold lion with a crown on its head.
"Yessss!" A voice screamed, and red sparks were sent up from Hufflepuff. I would later learn that it was from Cleos, that Hufflepuff boy who gave me Dumbledore's message.
Others were joining in now, firing off sparks and fireworks and setting the world ablaze with magic. There was a flash of fire and Fawkes was there, and for a moment I wasn't cold and the crescendo kept building.
"Harry, Harry you did it!" Hermione was saying, though I could barely hear her over the chaos. The uproar was too great and a chant had picked up that travelled from the Gryffindor's and Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw and even some of the Slytherins, resounding off the walls.
As I made my way through to the antechamber the call and chant kept repeating. People slapped me on the back, all the professors bar Snape were smiling, and his grimace filled me with deeper joy. Warrington tilted his head at me as I walked past, Draco squeezed my shoulder and picked up the chant again for Slytherin.
It continued on in the Gryffindor common room after I had received my first task instructions. The cry was the backdrop for the celebration. The whole of the house closed their ranks on me, touching, grasping, kissing; laying butterbear and fire whiskey in my hands, pulling more and more food from Merlin knows where.
All the while still chanting.
Someone brought the Gryffindor banner and draped it around me as cloak, as if I were royalty. Angelina, George and Fred had conjured a circlet of Gold and transfigured rubies to sit and dance upon it. They had Hermione lay it on by brow because every king must have a crown.
She pulled me into a searing kiss after she placed it on me, much to the crowd's pleasure. The party grew wilder. It seemed to last the whole of the night.
I would not have slept, even if I wanted to. Because dreaming was for the dead, and I remembered that I was not. Not yet. Not for a long while yet.
I was surrounded by life and love. I could feel it in the air, and for a moment I never wanted it to end. The chant was music to my ears and I was drunk on it, because their hearts were still thrumming, their souls were still singing and throughout, the name they cried was
"Potter! Potter! POTTER!"