"Potter, stay where you are." The sharp voice rang out through the Potions classroom, and Harry grimaced, shaking his head when Neville shot him a concerned look.
"I'll catch up," he assured, wondering what he was in trouble for this time. Perhaps, after having the weekend to think it over, Snape regretted being so nice to Harry. They'd had a pretty pleasant evening working together in his quarters, and he probably just wanted to make it clear he was still the evil, terrifying dungeon bat Harry had thought he was for the first three years of schooling.
When they were the only two left in the classroom, Snape locked the door and went through a series of privacy wards; he, too, was aware of Skeeter's subterfuge. Harry stayed in his seat, waiting for the explosion.
"How often do you check the map?"
Harry blinked at the unexpected question. "I— what?"
"The Marauders' blasted map," Snape clarified. "How regularly have you been checking it?"
"At least three times a day, lately," he said. "Looking for Rita Skeeter." So far nothing unusual had come up, except for Mr Crouch being in the school sometimes. But he was probably just organising tournament stuff. "Why do you ask?"
Snape scowled. "Someone broke into my private stores recently."
"Was it another champion looking for gillyweed, do you think?" Harry queried, wondering who would be stupid enough to steal from Snape.
"No; the only thing of note that was missing was boomslang skin." His dark eyes turned pointed as comprehension dawned on Harry's face. "You haven't been brewing Polyjuice potion again, have you, Potter?"
"What? No!" Harry denied immediately. "What use would I have for Polyjuice? Wait, how do you know about the first time?"
"Miss Granger was indelicate in breaking into my stores, and left her magical signature all over the place," Snape replied. "Don't tell me what you used it for, I'm quite certain I don't want to know. I assume it had something to do with Miss Granger being partially transformed into a cat."
Harry snickered at the memory. "Yeah, bit of a mix-up there." Snape gave him a despairing look. "I swear, sir, I don't know anything about any Polyjuice being brewed. Couldn't you tell who did it this time?"
"Whoever it was, they were very thorough in removing any trace of their presence," Snape said, looking quite annoyed by that. "They stole enough for quite a large batch of Polyjuice, so I suspect they won't need any more for a while."
Harry glanced up sharply as the man's words settled in his brain. "You think it's for long-term use."
"I think there is someone in this castle who is not who they appear to be," Snape confirmed. "Whoever it is, they're doing an impeccable job at impersonating their chosen target."
"Do you think they're the one who put my name in the Goblet?" Harry asked grimly. Snape nodded.
"It would make sense, yes. Stay vigilant, Potter, and check the map whenever you are able. If any name is unfamiliar to you, come to me immediately."
"Yes, sir." The map was enormous, but Harry would keep an eye on it the best he could. "Can I go, sir? I'm going to be late to History of Magic."
"Which would, of course, be such a tragedy," Snape retorted dryly, making Harry snicker.
"Oh, I'd be devastated," he agreed. Snape rolled his eyes, turning away.
"Get out, brat. Come to me at lunchtime on the 23rd, I'll get you your gillyweed. The fresher it is, the more potent it will be."
"Thanks, Professor!" Leaving the classroom, he made sure to school his expression into something appropriately downtrodden as he walked past the crowd of second years waiting for their lesson to begin. As soon as he was past them, it turned into a concerned frown, his hands suddenly itching to pull the map from his bag. That was… concerning news. At least now they had something to look for.
.-.-.
Harry was getting used to being manhandled out of the common room by one or both of the Weasley twins by now. He didn't put up a fight, letting them drag him up to their dorm room. "What are you two planning now?" he asked suspiciously. They sent him identical innocent grins, which didn't fool Harry for a second.
"Nothing untoward!" Fred insisted.
"We were just talking about you," George said conversationally.
"As we often do."
"And we realised that we're putting an awful lot of trust in that boyfriend of yours."
"We know you say he's alright, but you're a bit daft sometimes."
"No offence."
"So we were thinking, as the only two of your brothers who know the truth."
"We should meet him, properly, make sure he's actually a decent bloke like you say he is."
Harry wasn't thrown off by the alternating sentences, but their words did make him blink. "You've met Draco," he said, perplexed. "Many times. Played quidditch against him. Remember?"
Both twins rolled their eyes. "We've met Malfoy," George clarified.
"Slytherin Prince and pureblood prat," Fred added helpfully.
"We haven't met Draco. Not your Draco, anyway."
"And we thought you might hex us if we took that meeting upon ourselves."
"So we decided to ask you if you'd arrange something." George looked hopeful, leaning against a bedpost. "It's obvious you're mad about him. I know you said Sirius and Lupin have met him, so obviously he's not terrible since they approve, but…"
"You're family," Fred finished, his tone surprisingly serious. "And if he's everything you say he is, then hell, he might end up family too, one day." Harry blushed furiously — that was getting very far ahead, Merlin, they were only fourteen!
"So can we meet your boyfriend?" they finished in unison.
There was a funny little warmth curling in Harry's chest. The twins wanted to meet Draco, to see him how Harry saw him, to genuinely get to know him. Even Neville hadn't said anything more about Draco since the Yule Ball. "You promise you'll be nice to him?" he asked cautiously. George grinned at him, for once without any mischief or dramatics.
"He makes you happy," he said simply. "That's enough to at least get a pass on any pranks for one meeting."
"After that, we'll decide," Fred finished with a smirk. Harry snorted; that was all he could ask for, he supposed. Even he didn't get a complete free pass for prank immunity. Though that could be because the twins had discovered Harry would give back as good as he got, after spending half a summer living with Sirius and Remus. Harry still hadn't told them the truth about the two Marauders; he was saving that little gem for when he needed it most.
"I'm meeting Draco tomorrow night," he said eventually. "I'll check with him, but you two can come with me."
The twins beamed. Harry hoped he was making the right choice. The more people he had on Draco's side when they eventually went public about their relationship, the better.
Harry managed to catch Draco after breakfast the next morning, and the blond looked incredibly uneasy at the prospect of being introduced to the twins as Harry's boyfriend. But after a promise of no pranks — and several kisses to ease his nerves — Draco agreed to the meeting, and so Harry found himself squeezed under the invisibility cloak with the two tall redheads that night after curfew.
"This thing is amazing," George murmured softly, in awe of the cloak. "No wonder you sneak about so much."
"Can we borrow it sometime?" Fred asked. "This would come in handy for so many things!"
"As long as you're careful with it," Harry agreed. "It was my dad's." He was pretty sure his dad would like the idea of the twins using his cloak to cause mischief. Sirius certainly would.
They reached the empty Charms classroom and Harry nudged the door open, smiling to see Draco perched on the teacher's desk inside. The Slytherin was nervous, Harry could tell by the line of his shoulders, but there wasn't a sign of it on his face. Harry dropped the cloak, greeting Draco with a grin. "Hi," he said quietly, taking a step forward, then hesitating as the twins appeared behind him. He'd never kissed Draco in front of another person before. Was it okay if he did?
The light in Draco's eyes dimmed a little when Harry didn't move towards him, and that made up his mind; he closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together without hesitation, even as his cheeks turned red. One of the twins — he was pretty sure it was George — let out a wolf-whistle. "Our little boy's all grown up, kissing Slytherins." That was definitely George, mock-sniffing and wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.
"Just following your example," Harry retorted sweetly, making George freeze.
"What do you know?"
Harry laughed, shaking his head; it had just been a hunch, but that definitely confirmed things. George had kissed at least one Slytherin in the past. He wondered who it was.
Taking Draco's hand in his, he tugged the blond off the desk and closer to the twins. "Draco," he started, "this is Fred and George. Don't worry if you can't tell which is which, yet." Harry wasn't even sure how he could tell anymore, he just knew. "Fred, George, this is Draco. My boyfriend." He couldn't stop the grin that took over his face at the announcement, and George cooed.
"Look at him, Freddy— about ready to fight us, isn't he?"
Harry hadn't realised he'd taken a protective stance, keeping Draco ever so slightly behind him. He blushed, but didn't move.
"You can relax, Harrikins; this is a peaceful mission," Fred insisted, holding out a hand towards Draco. Draco shook it, trepidation on his face. "So. Your dad's a Death Eater." He said it as if discussing the weather, and Harry flinched.
"Fred." His tone was warning, but Draco's hand rested briefly on his shoulder.
"It's fine," he assured, meeting Fred's gaze with his head held high. "He is. But I am not my father, and I'd rather die before I knelt to that twisted monster."
Fred's gaze assessed him carefully, then he eventually nodded. "Good. I reckon Harry won't let either of those things happen to you, so you're alright there."
George jumped in at his twin's side, grabbing Draco's arm in a handshake. "You're better at Potions than Harry is, aren't you?"
"That's not difficult," Draco replied, smirking. Harry jabbed him lightly in the side. He was okay at it, now! "Why?"
"We've been working on this variation of the Swelling Solution for one of our products," George explained, "and we've been having a bit of trouble getting it to only work on certain parts of the body."
Harry was left blinking as his boyfriend was stolen away by the twins, dragged towards some empty chairs and brought into a debate about ingredient measures and brewing times. Still, he couldn't be too mad about it; the twins were trying so hard. They hadn't brought any Wheezes products, and other than Fred's first remark, not a single mention of Draco's family escaped their lips. Harry wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when he'd agreed to the meeting, but something with more of a fight had certainly crossed his mind. Draco had been pretty awful to the Weasley family in the past, even if not to the twins specifically. Their families had a blood feud that had lasted for generations.
He couldn't be much help discussing Potions, but Harry pulled up a chair next to Draco anyway, smiling when the blond tangled his fingers in Harry's without even thinking about it, his other hand making a series of gestures to help explain whatever he was explaining to the twins. A lot of it went over Harry's head, but it was apparent Draco knew what he was talking about, and the twins clearly appreciated the input.
"We might have more questions for you," George warned, after Fred finished writing down Draco's instructions. "We're both decent enough at Potions, but it's never been our favourite. Spells are so much easier to manipulate."
"I suppose I can help where possible," Draco acquiesced. "As long as I can trust you not to use my own work against me."
The twins shared a smirk. "I think that's fair," they agreed. George glanced down at his watch.
"Right, we'd better leave you two alone, then," he said, smirk widening as he gave Harry and Draco a lewd wink. "Don't want to take up your whole night."
Harry was immeasurably grateful for that. He was over the moon that the twins and Draco seemed to get along well, but he also just really wanted to be able to snog his boyfriend in peace.
The twins stood, and George ruffled Harry's hair fondly. "You were right," he declared. "He's not as much of a prat as he likes to pretend he is."
Draco made a vaguely offended face, but Harry ignored him, grinning up at the older boy. "So I can keep him, then?" he asked in a falsely casual tone. Fred snickered.
"As long as you remember to feed him, and walk him, and don't let him piddle on the carpet," he replied, earning a bark of laughter. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "We'll see you in the morning. Don't stay up too late."
"Remember the spells in the book," George added, making Harry splutter. As if they were anywhere close to needing those spells!
"We'll see you around, Draco," Fred said to the Slytherin, nodding. Draco nodded back, and Harry felt like he was missing something.
"If you have any more Potions questions, write them down and send them with Harry," the blond instructed. "I'll do what I can."
The twins grinned, then disappeared from the classroom, leaving Harry's invisibility cloak pooled on the floor in the doorway. They'd been sneaking around the castle long enough not to need it. Harry didn't really need it either these days, but he brought it out of habit.
There was a beat of silence, then Harry let out a long breath. "That was alright, wasn't it?" he asked worriedly. "They were okay?"
Draco's hands rested on Harry's hips, and the smallest smile curved at his mouth. "I expected more hexing," he admitted. "Possibly a bit of yelling. Certainly not… that."
Harry smiled faintly. "Yeah, they'll surprise you." He hadn't realised how nervous he'd been about the whole meeting until it was over, and his heart was thudding in his chest. "I'd say it went better than either of us expected. They like you." If they didn't, they wouldn't have left Harry behind.
Draco leaned in, lips brushing against Harry's in a way that had the Gryffindor following when he pulled back. "Let's stop talking about Weasleys, shall we?" he drawled, hand sliding around to the small of Harry's back.
There wasn't much talking about anything for a while after that.
.-.-.-.
It was starting to become a thing, Harry thought to himself, entering the common room to see Ron and Hermione sat on the sofa by the fire and staring at him intently. He reluctantly veered in their direction, raising an eyebrow expectantly. "We had something we wanted to say," Hermione said by way of greeting. Harry snorted, perching on the arm of the chair opposite.
"I can see that," he muttered to himself. "Go on, then."
"Everything has been a bit of a mess lately," Hermione said earnestly. "Between the tournament, and Viktor, and… everything else." Harry wondered if she was referring to Ron's attitude, or his many other friends. "I think it all just got out of hand, and we let it. But Harry, the three of us have been best friends since first year. Surely we can't let a little drama and a boy get in the way of all that?"
She was oversimplifying things so enormously that Harry goggled at her a little. "First off, I've never had a problem with Viktor," he pointed out. "He's great, we're friends, if you want to date him then go right ahead. Ron's the one with that issue there." The redhead flushed, looking a little angry, but after a glance at Hermione he swallowed it back.
"Ronald and I have worked out our differences," Hermione assured him. Harry doubted it, but let her keep up her illusion. "We miss you, Harry. I know you've been busy with the tournament, but all that aside, this year has been different for all of us. We've hardly spent any time together. It feels like we're losing you." Her voice cracked slightly, and guilt reared within Harry's chest. It wasn't their fault he now had a mountain of secrets he was keeping from them.
"That hasn't all been my fault," Harry pointed out, thinking of the multiple arguments he'd had with both of them over the last couple of months. Hermione ducked her head.
"No, it hasn't," she agreed. "Which is why I thought it'd be best if we just drew a line under all of that and started over, back how things were. You, me, and Ron."
Obviously the tentative truce they'd agreed upon before the Yule Ball wasn't enough for her. Part of Harry wondered why she was trying so hard to salvage a failing friendship; then he realised she didn't exactly have anyone else to turn to. Maybe he'd been too hard on her lately. On both of them. It had to be strange from their perspective, seeing Harry change so drastically as a person seemingly for no reason. They didn't know about the Compulsion charm. Once again, Ron was being very silent, and Harry glanced at the redheaded boy. "What do you reckon?"
Ron looked up at him, smiling very faintly. "I reckon if some nutter's out to kill you again, you could use all the friends you can get."
Harry cracked a grin in return, even as his stomach churned uneasily. Ron and Hermione really did deserve more of a chance than he'd been giving them lately, after everything they had been through. Harry wasn't quite ready to start sharing his secrets, but he could at least stop expecting the worst of them.
"Have you two done the essay for McGonagall yet?" he asked tentatively, offering an olive branch. Hermione beamed, even as Ron groaned at the mention of homework.
"We were just about to start," Hermione said, reaching into her bulging backpack. "Do you want to join us? I'll help you if you like."
Hermione had to be desperate, Harry mused, to be volunteering to help him with work. Not that he needed it these days; if she'd been paying close attention, she'd notice he was doing just fine on his own. "Yeah, alright."
He pulled out his Transfiguration textbook and writing supplies, sliding down into the armchair to lean over the coffee table. Ron grumbled a bit, but got his things out too, and the three of them settled in to work. Harry couldn't really call it working together — despite Hermione's offer, she kept to herself and glared at Ron every time he tried to sneak a look at her parchment — more just working in proximity to one another, but it was a start.
Harry was only half-focused on his work, the rest of his brain still trying to figure out what had prompted the change of heart. Despite the agreed-upon truce, after the disaster of the Yule Ball and the following fallout, Harry had expected to go the whole rest of the year without overtures of any kind from Ron and Hermione. Ginny was still pissed at Ron for ignoring Luna all night, Hermione wasn't impressed by the rumours circulating about her and Harry, and Harry had thought Ron was still convinced he was some kind of traitor for making friends with people from other schools and houses. What had happened to make them so determined to clear the air and start over?
It was a testament to how fractured their friendship had been lately that the sight of the three of them studying together gained many odd looks from the Gryffindors who passed through the common room. Neville was one of them, eyeing Harry in concern, but Harry just waved him off. If they wanted to try, he was willing to try.
When he finished his essay — faster than Ron and Hermione, though Hermione was at least four inches over the requirement with no signs of stopping — Harry sat up with a stretch. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go get my History of Magic book." Might as well get a head start on the next essay, even if he couldn't finish it in one night.
Heading towards the dorms, Harry started jogging up the stairs, almost falling flat on his face when an arm reached out and yanked him through a door. "What the hell, George?" he asked the redhead, straightening up with a scowl. It faded when he saw the concern on George's face.
"What did those two say to you?" George asked. Harry frowned.
"What? They just want to try being friends again. I guess Hermione misses me, I suppose Ron might as well." Ron was still a little off with him, but he'd tried cracking a few jokes while they worked, some of which were actually funny. To Harry's surprise, that made George grimace.
"I don't want to ruin anything, in case they genuinely mean it," he started cautiously. "But I thought you should know. I saw the two of them talking with Dumbledore after lunch today." Harry's heart sank. "I couldn't get close enough to hear what they were saying, not without risking being caught. But he looked like he was annoyed with them for something, and Ron didn't seem too pleased about whatever he was saying."
"Do you think…" Harry trailed off, unable to voice his concern.
"That Dumbledore isn't happy they're no longer keeping an eye on you, and told them to get back in your good books?" George finished grimly. "I'd bet my broom on it, mate."
Harry's blood became ice in his veins, and George squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry," the redhead murmured. "If I thought they were honest, I'd let it go, but… there's too much at stake for you to risk this. And honestly, some of the stuff Ron's said about you lately when you're not around, I find it hard to believe he's had a change of heart, even with Hermione pestering him."
"Right." Harry definitely didn't want to know what Ron had said. He wasn't sure he could take it. "Yeah. I… shit." He ran a hand through his hair, hating the way his eyes were starting to itch. He didn't even like Ron and Hermione that much anymore; why did it hurt so much to have his fears confirmed?
All of a sudden he was wrapped in a hug, his face pressed against George's chest. "You're still family," George promised, hand warm and solid on Harry's spine. "You've got us, and Bill and Charlie, and even Ginny. If Ron and Hermione are working for Dumbledore, you're better off without them."
That was true, but it didn't change the fact that they were the first friends Harry had made at Hogwarts; the only friends he'd had for a long time. To learn it was all a lie — even if it had been genuine once, it wasn't anymore — Harry couldn't help but feel his heart break just a little bit.
"Thanks for telling me, George," he said eventually, pulling away and trying to compose himself. "I'd love to say I'm surprised, but…" George shared his uneasy look. "I should go. They'll be wondering what's taking me so long."
"If you need a rescue, you know the signal," George told him, not arguing when Harry left the dorm.
Hurrying up to his own dorm to grab the book he'd originally gone up for, Harry went back down to the common room with a smile on his face like nothing had happened. Hermione smiled back at him when he approached. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah, fine," he lied breezily, cracking open the textbook. They would definitely get suspicious if he turned on them so quickly after agreeing to make friends again, but Harry was pretty sure they'd end up arguing within a week or two and he could break away then. It might be worth trying for a little longer, to give them something to take back to Dumbledore. Reassurance that Harry was still his old self — still under the Compulsion charm and blissfully unaware of anything to do with his inheritance or pureblood culture or the Wizengamot. If they were going to spy on him, he might as well use it to his advantage.
.-.-.-.
Being friends with Ron again meant it was difficult for Harry to sneak out of the dorm to meet Draco, but he managed it eventually, filling the blond in on the situation as they sat together on the floor of the Transfiguration classroom, a Cushioning charm making the stone surprisingly comfortable. Harry's head was in Draco's lap, the Slytherin's narrow fingers running through his hair, a frown at his lips. "I don't like this," he said eventually. "It's hard enough keeping all your secrets in order when no one is looking at you, let alone with Weasley and Granger sniffing around."
"Someone's always looking at me," Harry insisted. "At least if I know they're looking I can direct them elsewhere." Barely a week into their renewed friendship and Ron and Hermione were already pestering him to open up to them; Ron in the guise of wanting gossip about who he was snogging, Hermione pretending to be concerned about Sirius. Harry wondered if Dumbledore was frustrated at not knowing where the dog animagus was hiding.
"That doesn't mean you should let them look so closely."
"I'll feed them enough lies to get Dumbledore off my back, then wait for Ron to be a prick again and stop talking to them," Harry promised. He'd already managed to get them to believe that Sirius was hiding in Central America, hence the lack of frequent letters. He'd also told Hermione that the people at the Yule Ball were mostly Susan's friends, and he'd just pretended to hang out with them to keep her happy. Susan was fine with that misdirection, happy for Dumbledore to be aware that she was bridging the gaps between houses.
Draco looked doubtful, and Harry sat up enough to kiss the frown off his face, sneaking his tongue between the Slytherin's lips. Draco moaned softly, pulling Harry into his lap. "You're trying to distract me," he declared with an annoyed look. Harry smirked.
"I am, and it's working," he retorted knowingly, trailing a finger up Draco's bicep and across his chest, leaning in for another kiss. "Just relax, and trust me."
Draco's head tipped back against the stone wall, and Harry used the movement to kiss down his jaw to his throat, teasing the sensitive spot below his ear that made Draco grip him tighter and hiss with pleasure.
"You're too damn Slytherin for your own good sometimes," Draco muttered, his hand up the front of Harry's shirt. Harry's green eyes flashed playfully.
"That's why you like me so much." He nipped at Draco's earlobe, rocking forward in his lap a little. They still hadn't gone any further than rutting up against each other, but that was more than enough for Harry. He was getting pretty good at Cleaning charms these days.
Draco's mouth was too busy for him to argue back for several minutes after that, and by the time it was free he was too dazed to remember his objections. Harry was only a little bit smug about that, but it was enough to have Draco scowling at him when they said their goodbyes. "I still don't like it," the Slytherin insisted. Harry kissed him.
"I know. I'm not thrilled about it either," he admitted. "But it won't be forever, and if I'm too resistant to them, Dumbledore will start asking questions." He doubted he'd have to wait long for one or the other to screw up and get angry with him. They didn't like the person he'd become, that much was abundantly clear. Hermione had been biting her tongue all week, and she would only last so long. If Ron didn't explode first, of course.
The pair eventually parted ways, and Harry slipped away towards Gryffindor under the cover of the invisibility cloak. His mind still on the feeling of Draco's soft skin under his fingertips, Harry hardly noticed the insistent push of magic against his own; the castle trying to warn him of something. It was only when he heard the faint thunk-thunk of Moody's wooden leg that he froze. Slowly, he tried to back around the corner, away from the source of the noise.
"Potter!"
He cursed under his breath. The invisibility cloak was useless against Moody's magical eye. "Professor Moody," he greeted, dropping the hood reluctantly. Moody limped closer, smirking at Harry in the dim light.
"Out for a little late night stroll, are we?"
"I don't sleep well sometimes," Harry replied evasively, hoping he didn't look as ravished as he felt. Draco was usually pretty good about not leaving marks, unlike Harry. They both knew Moody could see through glamour charms, and Harry didn't want questions in class. "I'm sorry, I'll go back up to my dorm."
"Don't worry about it, Potter," Moody waved him off. "What McGonagall doesn't know won't hurt her." Harry thought it interesting that he chose to mention the Gryffindor housemistress and not the headmaster. Was he implying Dumbledore already knew, or just that he was likely to tell the man? "Listen, while I've got you here; how are things going with that egg of yours?"
"Fine," Harry replied, eyes narrowing. "I'm not supposed to accept help from people. Especially not teachers." As if he hadn't been helped by Snape plenty already. But Moody didn't need to know that.
The Defence teacher let out a raspy laugh. "Like you'll be the only champion getting outside help," he pointed out. "You sure you don't want to talk it over? My office is always open to you."
"No, I've got it covered, thanks," Harry insisted. "Look, if you're not going to take points or anything, can I go? I'd really like to go to bed now." It was nearing midnight, and he had Potions first thing in the morning. Snape would crucify him if he dozed off in class.
"Aye, be on your way, Potter. But be careful; there's all kinds of strangers in this castle. Even with that fancy cloak of yours, you wouldn't want one to come and snap you up." Moody grinned, though it was more of a grimace, his disfigured face twisting in a way that could easily give a person nightmares.
Harry almost pointed out that Professor Moody was one of those strangers, but quite frankly he was ready for that whole interaction to be over as quickly as possible. He nodded, throwing the hood of the cloak back up to cover himself and hurrying away from the creepy professor.
When he was several corridors away, Harry paused and pulled the map out of his bag, wanting to make sure Draco got back to his common room safely. If Moody came across him too, he might end up drawing some conclusions. His eyes scanned the paper, relief hitting him when he saw the dot labelled 'Draco Malfoy' down in the dungeons, approaching the Slytherin common room. Then, Harry frowned, his brow furrowed. According to the map, Moody was in his office, behind the desk, like he always was. How was that possible? There was no way he could have made it back that quickly! He kept looking around the map, wondering if there was some sort of mistake, but other than Barty Crouch walking down the hall away from Dumbledore's office entrance — that was an absurdly late meeting, surely the tournament arrangements couldn't be that urgent? — He didn't see anyone out of place.
Harry shook his head, wiping the map away and continuing on to Gryffindor Tower. Perhaps Moody knew of a secret passageway Harry didn't. He wasn't so arrogant to assume he'd figured out all of Hogwarts' secrets, even with the help of the Marauders.
.-.-.-.-.
The night before the task found all four Triwizard champions tucked away in a small living room in the Beauxbatons carriage, Fleur insisting it was the best place for privacy as none of her schoolmates would bother them. It was certainly more comfortable than hanging out in an abandoned classroom in the castle, so Harry wasn't going to complain.
"So is everyone ready for tomorrow?" Cedric asked, leaning back in his armchair with a bottle of butterbeer in his hand. The champions were all avoiding alcohol, not wanting to be hungover when they plunged into the Black Lake in the morning.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Viktor replied with a shrug. They'd all agreed not to say a word about the methods they planned to use, wanting it to be a surprise when the task began, but it was hard not to talk about what they were about to undertake.
"I am curious about what zey 'ave taken from us," Fleur mused. "I 'ave not noticed anyzing missing."
Harry hadn't either, but his three most important possessions — the cloak, the map, and Sirius' mirror — were in his bag pretty much permanently, so he couldn't see how anyone could take them. Maybe they'd take his Firebolt. "It's whatever we'll sorely miss," Cedric said, rolling his eyes. "Maybe they've nicked my Potions notes. I've got an essay due on Friday." The other three laughed.
"Maybe they vill take a person," Viktor suggested. Harry and Fleur shared skeptical looks.
"Surely they wouldn't take that risk? If we don't make it in the hour…" Harry trailed off at the pointed look Viktor gave him. "Right, yeah, dragons." They hadn't cared too much about the safety of the spectators in the first task. Who was to say they wouldn't put an innocent person in danger to motivate the champions? "I guess we'll find out in the morning."
"D'you think we'll have to fight the merpeople, or just find them?" Cedric mused. "To get whatever it is back, I mean. Merpeople are supposed to be a warrior race. Do you think they'll just let us take it and go on our way?"
"I'd like to think the challenge is in getting to them in the first place," Harry said grimly. There were all sorts of creatures in the lake that would make it difficult enough. "But I wouldn't put it past them."
"I will just charm zem," Fleur declared, tossing her hair. "Zen zey will 'ave to let me go past."
"Does that work on merpeople, then?" Harry was curious, knowing very little about veela and their charm. "What are the limits of it? Can you charm, like, cats and owls and stuff, or do they have to be humanoid? Or a certain level of intelligence?" Harry presumed if Fleur was capable of charming non-human creatures, she would have tried to charm the dragon in the first task. "Or does it only work on boys? There might be mermaids down there." The dragon was a nesting mother, so maybe that was why it didn't work.
"I 'ave not tested ze specifics," Fleur admitted, looking amused at the line of questioning. "And I am not as strong as a full veela. But a veela's charm will work on anyone 'oo is attracted to 'umanoid women. I would assume merfolk would be similar enough for eet to work."
"That explains why it didn't work on me at the World Cup," Harry murmured in comprehension, realising after a beat of pointed silence that he'd said that out loud. "I mean. Err." His face went hot as the other three stared at him wide-eyed. "Did you just…" Cedric looked hesitant, like he didn't wait to say it out loud until Harry did.
"Accidentally come out?" Harry confirmed sheepishly. "Apparently. Please don't tell anyone." He wasn't ashamed, not really, but it was attention he didn't really need right now. People were judging him enough as it was without knowing that.
"Your secret is safe wiz us," Fleur promised, reaching over to squeeze his arm fondly. "I admit, I did suspect. I 'ave tried to charm boys wiz you around before, and you did not even seem to notice." Harry blinked, staring at her with raised eyebrows.
"How often do you use that charm of yours?" he asked suspiciously. Her response was an innocent smile, and Harry assumed by the way Cedric and Viktor's eyes turned adoring, she was using her charm right then. Harry laughed.
"I never use eet when eet matters," she promised, the boys turning back to normal after a second. "But sometimes eet is ze easiest way to get boys to leave me alone."
"Not Harry, clearly," Cedric teased, his grey eyes playful without a hint of judgement. "You're stuck with him."
"I haff to say, this makes me feel better," Viktor declared, earning a confused look. "I know you are not the type to interfere with another person's relationship, but I had vorried about the rumours of you and Hermy-own."
"Oh, those are completely made up by Skeeter," Harry promised. "She's all yours, don't worry." That made Viktor grin, and something in Harry's chest twisted. He hadn't realised the Durmstrang boy liked Hermione quite so much. Should he say something? Tell Viktor that his sort-of-girlfriend was maybe spying on Harry for Dumbledore and who knew what she really wanted with Viktor? No, he couldn't do that. The worst Hermione could likely be accused of where Viktor was concerned was using him to make Ron jealous.
It was none of his business, Harry decided. Viktor would leave at the end of the year anyway.
"So who were you with at the Yule Ball, then?" Cedric asked curiously. "If it wasn't any of the girls. It certainly wasn't George; him and Boris made it pretty clear where they were going when they left."
Harry ducked his head, cheeks turning red. "No one important," he lied.
"Was it Cassius? Wait, no, he was still in the hall while you were gone."
"Why does everyone think I'm with Cassius?" Harry despaired, remembering Neville's assumption too. Did he really spend that much time around the older Slytherin? No wonder Dumbledore was getting worried. "Leave it alone or I'll tell Skeeter it was you I was snogging," he told Cedric, who snickered.
"I could do worse," he said with a shrug, winking. "Not sure Cho would be pleased about it, mind. She'd want to watch if I was snogging you."
Harry made a face. "That's more information than I ever wanted about you or your girlfriend." Maybe Cedric wasn't as incredibly straight as George had assumed.
Cedric burst into laughter, and even Fleur and Viktor joined him at the disturbed expression Harry wore.
"On zat note, I think eet is time to go to bed," Fleur suggested, still giggling. "Since 'Arry will not share 'is rendezvous wiz us."
"If we all survive this bloody tournament, I'll tell you," Harry grumbled, getting to his feet.
It was later than they probably should have stayed out considering their early start, but Cedric and Harry weren't remotely tired as they snuck back up to the castle, bidding Viktor goodnight on the lawn. They parted ways at the stairs, and Harry quickly made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, creeping up to his dorm. All the other beds had the curtains drawn, so Harry tried to be quiet as he got ready for bed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to force himself to sleep. He'd need all the rest he could get.