The morning after the Yule Ball started at approximately 11:45 for Harry, which was when Neville shoved his drapes aside and poked him hard in the shoulder. "Before the news gets up to you, I promise that I wasn't the one who said anything."
Harry groaned, blinking bleary-eyed at the boy sat on the edge of his mattress. "What?"
Neville handed him his glasses, and the other Gryffindor's apologetic face came into sharper view. "The whole school is talking about how you snogged someone at the ball last night. No one knows who, but everyone knows it happened. I mean, you did come back looking a bit… ravished." Neville's cheeks were pink, and Harry let out another groan, burying his face in his pillow.
"Fuck," he muttered. Snape was going to have a field day. 'Discretion, Potter'. Ugh, he was the worst. Maybe Harry could persuade Remus to hex him. "How bad is it?"
"On a scale of one to thinking you're trying to kill all the muggleborns in the school, it's pretty minor," Neville told him. Harry hated that that was a legitimate scale of measuring the school's general opinion of him. "Everyone's just curious about who it was. A few girls are insisting it was them, but no one believes them. I think the top three are Hermione, Ginny, or Fleur."
"…There are people in this castle who think I could pull Fleur Delacour? Are they blind?"
Neville snorted, shaking his head. "They're just hoping for a scandal, I think. Other names floating around are of course Susan — but not many think it's her because she laughed pretty hard when someone asked her, and she was on the dance floor all night — and I've heard Padma Patil, Daphne Greengrass, Cho Chang, and George Weasley."
Harry rolled the list of names over in his head. "Well. That's… varied." He reluctantly sat up, reaching for the water on his bedside table. He hadn't had more than a mouthful of alcohol, but he still felt hungover just from all the noise and dancing. "Just the one bloke on the list?"
"So far. I did hear someone suggest Blaise Zabini, but I'm pretty sure that was a joke." Neville shrugged. "If it helps, I think it'll all fade out in a few days. There's bound to be other drama from last night — you're just an easy target for gossip." He looked sorry as soon as he said it, but Harry shook his head; Neville was right.
"No one's suggesting… y'know?" He didn't dare say Draco's name, not without a ward up. Neville shook his head, and Harry's shoulders relaxed a little.
"No, I've not heard that anywhere," Neville assured.
With a sigh, Harry dragged his aching legs over the edge of the bed. "Well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose. Anything else to report?"
"Nothing major. I guess Lavender got caught giving Seamus a blowjob. By Snape." Neville shuddered, wide-eyed, and Harry burst out laughing.
"How many points did we lose for that?"
"Eighty, I think. But everyone's practically in the negative after last night, Snape was on a roll."
"That's not so bad, then." Harry yawned, rolling his shoulders back. "I'm gonna take a shower, then I'll meet you for lunch?" He was starving.
"Sounds good," Neville agreed, getting to his feet. "Oh, also Ron's in a bit of a mood, so you might want to avoid him a bit. Especially if he thinks you've been kissing Hermione."
Harry grimaced as he stood. "Fantastic." Well, Ron had been in a mood all term, it wasn't like that changed much.
.-.-.
He felt much more human after a shower, and with his stomach rumbling Harry jogged down the stairs to the common room, where Neville was stood talking to Ginny and Hermione. "Hiya, Harry," Ginny greeted cheerfully. "Loads of people think we snogged, so I've been telling people you're crap at it."
"Thanks, Ginny. I appreciate it," he replied flatly, and she giggled.
"Always happy to help!"
"I haven't said anything about the rumours," Hermione said primly. "Hopefully they'll go away soon once people realise it's all a load of rubbish."
"It's not though, is it," Harry said, stretching up with a yawn. Hermione gawked at him.
"You were snogging someone? I thought you were joking!"
"Yeah. I mean, it obviously wasn't you, or Ginny, or Fleur," he said with a roll of his eyes. "But the way I looked I don't think I can even bother denying what I was doing." Before he'd passed out, he'd forced himself to go brush his teeth, and one glance in the mirror made it pretty evident what he'd been up to. There was also a pretty large lovebite on his throat that he hadn't glamoured away, though the collar of his shirt had mostly hidden it. Draco was a possessive little bastard sometimes.
"So who was it, then?" Hermione asked. Harry snorted.
"Like I said last night, none of your business. Can we go get food now or what?"
Hermione's lips pursed. "I don't like this, Harry. First you're off dancing with all those people last night, now you're kissing some mystery girl. It's not like you to keep so many secrets."
"How is dancing with people keeping secrets? They're my friends."
"Exactly! Since when were you friends with Daphne Greengrass? Or Cassius Warrington? For that matter, how long have you been friends with Susan Bones?"
"I'm sorry I've been branching out, Hermione, but with you and Ron ignoring me for half the year I've had to look elsewhere for social interaction. Or are you just pissed because they're not Gryffindors?" Harry glared at her, shaking his head. "I thought you were better than that."
"It's got nothing to do with what house they're in!" Hermione insisted, but the slightly screechy tone of her voice betrayed that she was lying. "It just seems awfully sudden that you're so chummy with all these people."
"I've been friends with most of them since last year," Harry told her. "You just haven't been paying attention. And I'm sorry you're jealous that I've got more friends than just you and Ron, but I like them, so you'll just have to suck it up and deal with it." He'd thought they were possibly fixing things, last night. With her on Viktor's arm and dancing with Harry and the others and having a great time, he'd thought there were scraps of their friendship he could salvage. Now he was starting to think he was wrong. He looked up at Neville and Ginny, who were watching the whole argument uneasily. "Lunch?" he suggested, turning away from Hermione and heading for the portrait hole. They followed after him, leaving Hermione fuming in the common room, and when they were out of earshot Ginny let out a low whistle.
"Well, that was awkward," she muttered, sounding remarkably like her twin brothers. Harry snorted.
"She's been off with me all year, going hot and cold depending on whether Ron thinks he can stomach me or not. I'm sick of it." Hermione was, at her heart, an introvert. She nagged Ron and Harry to study, but always preferred to study alone. She kept her intelligence around her like a shield, warding people off even if they were actually smart enough to hold a conversation with her. She hated being in crowds — last night had been highly unusual for her. She was happy extending the olive branch to Ron and Harry, and then to the rest of the Weasley family, but she had her limits. Evidently Harry's casual friendship with half their year and several people in other years was too much for her to handle.
"Everyone's sort of noticed that the golden trio hasn't been very, well, trio-y lately," Ginny breached. "I s'pose we all thought you'd figure it out."
"I don't know if we will this time, Gin," Harry admitted aloud for the first time. There was so much more going on; so much Ginny wasn't aware of. Harry wasn't sure whether he was being too paranoid when he thought Ron and Hermione were spying on him for Dumbledore, but either way he was a different person with different priorities and they didn't seem able to handle that.
The three of them walked in silence for a while, Harry still glowering a little, when Ginny cleared her throat. "Hey, Harry. On the subject of friendships… I wanted to say sorry, actually." Harry looked at her in confusion, and she ducked her head. "The last couple of years I've been a bit… well, stalker-y is probably one word for it," she said with a grimace. "Only I'd heard so much about you when I was a kid from Mum, and then you were there and you were my brother's friend and you were so nice, and I developed a bit of a crush." She managed not to blush as she said this. Harry didn't bother pointing out that 'bit of a crush' was somewhat of an understatement; he didn't want to be mean. "Anyway, this year since we've hung out more and everything, and you're so close with the twins, you're basically one of my brothers now and it would be pretty strange to keep fancying you," she said, her words coming out rushed and her ears as red as her hair. "So I'm just gonna nip that in the bud and say I'm sorry for being weird about it before. But if it's alright, I'd really like to be your friend." She looked hopeful, embarrassed by her own actions in the past.
Harry was silent for a moment. "On one condition." Ginny eyed him warily. "Please stop telling everyone I'm crap at kissing."
The redhead burst out laughing, having to stop walking to catch her breath for a minute. "I can do that," she agreed. Harry grinned, slinging an arm over her shoulders.
"Then I guess you've got a seventh big brother." He looked over his shoulder, where Neville was watching them both in utter bemusement. "As your big brother, do I need to have a word with Neville over there?" Ginny turned bright red, and Neville began spluttering.
"Don't you dare," she told him, elbowing him in the side and darting away before he could retaliate. "Or I'll hex you the same as I do my other brothers."
"Noted," Harry said with a grin, holding his hands up in surrender. "I wouldn't really, anyway. Not unless you asked me to. You seem like you can look out for yourself." Growing up with six older brothers, two of whom were Fred and George, Harry didn't doubt that Ginny was probably better at looking out for herself than he was.
Ginny smiled at him, and the three walked side by side for a little longer. Ginny glanced up at him again, before they made it to the Entrance Hall. "Harry," she began. "Since we're family and all… do you think I could have a go on your Firebolt sometime? When the others aren't around? They always make fun of me when I say I want to fly."
Harry thought back to the summer; not once had Ginny played quidditch with them. Harry had assumed it was because she didn't want to. Then he realised none of her brothers had ever asked her. "Yeah, sure," Harry agreed with a shrug. "We can go out before school starts back up."
Ginny beamed, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek — right as they entered the Great Hall. Immediately, a fresh wave of whispers started up. Harry smiled ruefully. "Well, that's gonna be great for the rumour mill," he muttered sarcastically. Ginny winced.
"Sorry."
"Nah, it's alright. People will think what they want. Hell, if it leads them off the trail of who it really is, I'm all for it." If they thought he was dating Ginny Weasley, no one would be looking towards Draco Malfoy.
.-.-.
With Christmas over and the spring term rapidly approaching, the students suddenly remembered all the homework they'd been ignoring in favour of the Yule Ball — Harry included. It also meant that the four champions were back to trying to figure out their eggs. Harry had pretty much stopped opening his; he'd heard it scream plenty of times now, and nothing was going to change about it. All he could do was research things that screamed and hope he came across the right one.
That all changed on the 30th of December, when Viktor rushed into the Great Hall, saw Harry and Fleur sat at the Gryffindor table, and hurried over to them. "Vhere is Cedric?" he asked quietly. Harry shrugged.
"No idea. With Cho maybe? Why?"
Viktor glanced around shiftily, then leaned in. "I haff made progress."
Harry and Fleur shared a wide-eyed glance. "I'll find him," Harry said, getting to his feet.
"Meet by the Durmstrang ship vhen you do," Viktor replied, taking Fleur with him when he left. Harry ducked into a side passage, rifling through his school bag.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he muttered, scanning the map for Cedric's name. He eventually found him down near the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, Cho by his side.
Harry sprinted through the halls to find the Hufflepuff, skidding to a halt when he almost crashed into him. "Come with me," he urged, grabbing both Cedric and Cho by the wrists.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Cedric asked, following in bewilderment.
"I think Viktor's figured out the egg." That had both of them picking up the pace, and they went outside to see Viktor and Fleur sat on the bank of the lake, right at the edge of the water. Viktor had his egg in his hands. "Good, you're here," the Bulgarian said, beckoning them closer. The trio sat down, making themselves comfortable.
"Harry said you've figured it out?" Cedric said, and Viktor shrugged.
"I haff made progress. Listen." Viktor picked up his egg and set it in the shallows of the lake until it was entirely covered, then twisted it open. Harry flinched, bracing himself for screaming, but none came. Instead it sounded like… music? "It is easier to hear vhen you are under the vater also," Viktor supplied. "But it is a song. Here."
He held out a piece of parchment, and the other three champions crowded around it to read.
Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this;
We've taken what you'll sorely miss.
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took.
But past an hour, the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
Harry read the words over several times. "I assume your eggs vill say the same," Viktor said, closing the egg, "but you may vant to test them."
"So we must go underwater?" Fleur presumed, brow furrowed in thought. "To wherever ze creatures 'ave taken… whatever eet ees zey will take."
"An hour to look somewhere underwater. Presumably the lake," Cedric said, glancing out over the expanse of water. "Merlin, there could be anything in there."
Harry thought about the aquatic creatures he knew of; surprisingly, his brain went to his muggle upbringing rather than what he'd learned since joining the magical world. "Are there merpeople in the lake, do you think?"
The others stared at him. "I think so," Cho piped up. "I've heard some of the Slytherins talking about it before. They have that window to the lake in their common room."
Harry remembered it; he'd thought it was a bit creepy. "So merpeople vill take something ve care about?" Viktor surmised. "That seems… simple enough."
"How did you figure the egg out, anyway?" Cedric asked curiously. The Durmstrang boy blushed.
"I, ah, accidentally dropped it off the edge of the ship," he admitted sheepishly. "It opened ven I vas diving to get it back."
The rest of them laughed, and Viktor merely smiled.
"So we know what we're up against, then," Harry said. "We should all work alone from here on out. Don't want any of our solutions looking too similar."
The others agreed, and Viktor pocketed his egg once more. "No more talk of tasks until February 24th, then," he declared.
Harry wondered if Fleur and Cedric had as much of an urge as he did to check their eggs sang the same song. "Well, if we're calling it there, I've got a Transfiguration essay to write," he said with a grimace. "Unless any of you would like to help me with that?" Unsurprisingly, they all suddenly had places to be, and Harry snorted. "Some help you lot are."
"Why don't you go ask your girlfriend," Fleur teased, nudging his shoulder. She was getting far too much joy over the rumours of Harry's Yule Ball escapades, especially the ones that involved her.
"I thought I just did, dear," Harry replied sweetly, making Viktor and Cedric laugh.
"Away wiz you," Fleur said playfully, making a shooing motion. "I must study also."
The five of them parted ways, Cedric and Cho wandering off towards a different part of the lake, possibly to go test Cedric's egg. Harry continued back up to the castle, lost in thought. He really did have a Transfiguration essay — but now he also had some research to do.
.-.-.-.
The new term began on a bit of a sour note, in the form of another Rita Skeeter article. This one cutting far, far too deep. Dumbledore's Giant Mistake was the headline they woke up to on the first day of classes, and the more Harry read, the deeper his frown grew. "I mean, didn't everyone know that already about Hagrid?" he asked. "Just look at him. Bit obvious, isn't it?"
"There are other ways to get that big, with magic," Neville pointed out. "I think most of us assumed he got hit with a dodgy Engorgement charm as a kid or something. Giants… they've got a bit of a bad reputation."
"Well so have werewolves, and Remus is alright," Harry retorted. "How the hell did Skeeter get this information, though? If he's never told me, I can't see him telling her!" She wasn't even supposed to be on school grounds outside of task days. She hadn't even been able to get permission for the Yule Ball; a photographer had been sent, but a different reporter was along with them. The write-up had been a tasteful article about the whole affair, with a rave review of the Weird Sisters and hardly any mention of Harry save for the bit about the champions opening the ball. It was brilliant.
"Maybe he was telling someone else, and she was eavesdropping. Still doesn't explain what she was doing on school grounds, though."
They didn't have much time to talk about it, or they'd be late for Herbology, but with Care of Magical Creatures on his schedule for before lunch, Harry didn't worry about it too much. That changed when he arrived at Hagrid's hut with the rest of his class to find a woman waiting for them who was definitely not Hagrid.
Professor Grubbly-Plank was a perfectly competent teacher. Possibly even a more competent teacher than Hagrid. But that didn't mean Harry was going to sit back and let Hagrid be bullied out of his job by that awful Skeeter woman. He hung back once class was over, knocking on Hagrid's door. "Hagrid, it's me!" he called, knocking louder. "Come on, Hagrid. You know I don't care about all that. Just let me in." He kept knocking, and let out a frustrated noise. "Hagrid, for the love of Merlin, if you don't let me in I'm breaking the door down." That got a reaction. The lock clicked, and the door opened the tiniest crack, just enough for Hagrid to glare through with one bloodshot eye.
"Go away, 'Arry," he muttered. Harry jammed his foot in the doorway, shouldering his way into the cabin. Hagrid clearly didn't want him gone that bad, or he would've tried harder to keep him out.
"Nope, sorry, not listening." He looked up at the enormous man, his heart clenching at the tear-streaked skin hidden behind his mass of hair. "Hagrid. You can't really think people care about that sort of thing, do you?"
"Those people do," Hagrid retorted, gesturing to his table, where a stack of letters sat, most of them opened. "Those people 'ave a lot to say about it." He choked out another sob, and Harry threw his arms around the man the best he could.
"Hagrid, if there's one thing I've learnt from the media, it's that you can't win over everyone. And unfortunately, the loudest voices are also usually the worst ones. For all these letters on your table, I bet there's fifty people who read that article, shrugged, and got on with their day."
Hagrid didn't look convinced. "They won't want me teachin' their kids, not knowin' what I am."
"My first ever Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher literally had Voldemort in the back of his head, and no one complained about him." Of course, no one knew about him, but the point still stood. "No one in this castle knows more about creatures than you do, Hagrid. Sometimes your judgement about what's class appropriate is a little… off." Hagrid snorted, unable to help himself. "But you're a brilliant teacher. Grubbly-Plank's alright, yeah, but she's not you. She'd never let me ride a hippogriff," Harry added, grinning.
"Not sure if tha's a good thing," Hagrid pointed out dubiously. Harry shrugged; it had been a good thing for him.
"How did Skeeter even find out all this?" Harry asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. Hagrid sniffed.
"No idea. I was… I was tellin' Olympe — Madame Maxime — but… there weren't no one about when I told her. We were at the Yule Ball, everyone was inside. I jus' thought… it's daft," he said with a shake of his head. "Bloody big bones, I never." That was muttered under his breath, and made little sense to Harry, but he presumed it had something to do with Maxime, and why she'd been curt with everyone since the ball according to Fleur.
"Skeeter couldn't have been at the Yule Ball. Someone would have seen her." Unless she had a way of getting around undetected. Maybe she had an invisibility cloak, like Harry. "What's it matter 'ow she found out?" Hagrid wailed. "Everyone knows, now!"
"So?" Harry argued. "No one cares, Hagrid; not anyone that matters!" He was still trying to block out Draco's taunts about it, knowing the boy had no choice when he had an audience. Surely Draco didn't really care about Hagrid's blood status. "Class won't be the same without you. Hogwarts won't be the same without you." Harry reached up to put a hand on the man's elbow. "You were the first friend I ever had in the wizarding world, Hagrid. Don't let this be what takes you away from it."
Hagrid sank into a chair, choking on another sob. "Y'know, Harry," he said once he'd composed himself a little. "When I firs' met yeh, yeh reminded me a bit o' meself, like. Parents gone, not quite sure 'ow yeh were gonna fit in at Hogwarts. But yeh did. Look at yeh now." Pride shone in his eyes.
"That's partly because of you," Harry insisted softly. "I thought I wouldn't fit in, and you looked at me like I was mad for thinking it. You told me Hogwarts would be home, and it was. I reckon I wouldn't have even been brave enough to get on the train if I didn't know you were there at the end of it." He'd been desperate to get away from the Dursleys, to do anything to leave that house. But he might have just run away into muggle London instead.
"Don't say that, Harry. Yer a Gryffindor."
"And so are you," Harry reminded, remembering what Tom Riddle's diary had shown him. "The Sorting Hat knows what it's talking about." It certainly had with Harry, telling him he would've done well in Slytherin. If only he'd listened.
Hagrid was silent for a long moment, wiping at his eyes, until finally he managed a small smile in Harry's direction. "Yer wise beyond yer years, y'know that?" he said. "Yer gonna be a great wizard someday."
"I'll be a better one if you go back to teaching me," Harry replied with a grin. Hagrid sighed.
"I… I can', yet," he murmured. "But maybe after a bit. Lie low, like. See if it all blows over." Harry figured that was the best he could get, and he patted Hagrid's hand supportively.
"That's the spirit." And in the meantime, Harry would figure out how the hell Rita Skeeter was getting her information. "What's been the matter wi' you then, these days, anyways?" Hagrid asked, eyeing Harry shrewdly. "Hardly ever see yeh wi' Ron and Hermione anymore."
Harry grimaced, running a hand through his hair. "Well, Ron's still not over me being in the tournament," he said ruefully. "And Hermione… we're growing older, Hagrid. People change. I'm sure the friends you had when you were eleven aren't the same friends you have now."
"But the three o' you've been through so much together." Hagrid was frowning now, and Harry sighed, wishing there was an easy way to make the man explain. He couldn't tell him the truth about Dumbledore; it would break the man's heart. Hagrid worshipped Dumbledore.
"Sometimes shared trauma isn't enough to keep people together," he said eventually. "I'm not saying we'll never be friends again, but… I dunno, it's weird right now. I've been hanging out with Neville a lot lately, though."
"Aye, 'e's a good kid, the Longbottom lad. Always helpin' Professor Sprout wi' the greenhouses." Hagrid's faint smile returned. "As long as yer not by yerself too long, Harry. That'll get yeh nowhere good. 'Specially not at your age."
"I'm not alone, Hagrid," he promised. "And if I am, I know I've always got you, right?"
"Always," Hagrid vowed, covering Harry's hand gently with his own. "No matter what, Harry, I'm on your side."
Harry hoped that proved true. "Thanks, Hagrid." He glanced at his watch; if he was quick, he'd have time to run to the kitchens and grab something to eat before his next class. "Look, I've got to go back to classes, but… don't lock yourself away in here, alright? And don't listen to whatever's in those letters. There's always gonna be people who like to complain about things."
Harry gave the man one last hug before leaving, hurrying up to the castle the best he could in the snow.
If Dumbledore's manipulations ever cost him his friendship with Hagrid, Harry would obliterate the old headmaster where he stood.