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batsutousaiTitle: Nose to the Wind
Series: Like a Ghost in My Town
Fandom: Harry Potter
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Teen
Pairing: Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort, James Potter/Lily Potter
Warnings: AU, violence, universe hopping/rebirth, Dark!Harry, werewolf!Harry, underage relationship (ish)
Summary: While Harry had been content with his second chance, that didn't keep him from thinking what he could have done different, how many people could have survived if he hadn't been set on the very specific path he'd walked. Third time is the charm, though, right?
A/N: I realised, while working on this chapter, that, in the books, Bagman never actually explains what's going on with any of the tasks. Like, he sort of half-way fills in the champions when he pulls them aside before the tasks – in the tent when the champions pick their dragons for the first task, telling them after the first task that the egg will fill them in about the second task, and introducing them to the maze a month before the third task – but his explanations to the audience are...so utterly lacking. Like, we didn't hear his announcement for the first task, but the second task was just like 'our champions have an hour to collect what was taken from them', and the third task is just a rehash of the points everyone has. Like, how does anyone trust this man with commenting on shit? Was this just Jo/her editors' way of shortening the book? *grumbles and stalks off*
For ages at the start of this chapter, very little time has passed, so Harry remains 15. (Hermione is 16, Will is 14, and Chris turns 12 shortly after the first scene of this chapter.)
Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own and LiveJournal.
Chapter Twenty-One – Truth Like a Blazing Fire
-0-
"So," James said one evening in the middle of March, when both Sirius and Remus decided to join them for dinner on the same night, "did we want to go on a trip to anywhere this summer?"
Harry snorted, having a pretty good idea why his father wanted to go on another trip out of the country.
Remus cleared his throat and pointed out, "If you're intending it to fall on Harry's birthday again, know I won't be able to come."
James slumped a bit, while Sirius blinked and asked, "When's the full moon?"
"The thirtieth," Harry and Remus chorused, then traded amused looks.
"Creepy," Sirius insisted, pointing his fork between them.
"Well," Lily interrupted, "I wouldn't mind going to a beach, this year. Mary-Anne, from work, she and her family did Mallorca last year and she spent months glowing about it."
"There were beaches in Rome," James muttered, then yelped when Lily jabbed him with her elbow.
"I think," Remus offered drily, "that your wife is saying she'd rather the relaxing over the educational aspect, Prongs."
"I didn't say that," Lily insisted, making a face. "If we can find some place with a magical history and beaches, though..."
Almost as one, all of them turned to Harry.
Harry raised both of his eyebrows at them. "Speaking of creepy," he said, and Sirius snickered. He rolled his eyes, then took a moment to think of all the magical places he'd been over the years. "Mmm... Greece would probably be the best serve of both, honestly, but I'd suggest something a little further west."
"Golubev?" James guessed, expression darkening.
Harry shrugged and nodded; Russia's resident dark lord's political platform had taken on a distinctly anti-nonhuman slant at the start of the year – sooner than that, really, but it had taken a few months for that news to filter past the distraction that was the TriWizard Tournament. He suspected his family was more inclined to avoid Russia's borders for the sake of Harry and Remus' safety, but Harry, himself, was more concerned with the potential for him to lose his temper and go full-on Alpha Lord. Which, well, he wouldn't necessarily be wrong to do so – probably wouldn't even have to defend himself to his family – but he was trying to avoid any killing sprees, and the magical world's political climate was close enough to a tipping point as it was; best not to involve yet another murderous psychopath.
The four adults traded troubled looks, before Lily suggested, "Portugal?"
"Lisbon isn't a terrible destination," Harry allowed, turning his mind to that area of the continent, "but, actually, I'd almost suggest Gibraltar? Neither of them are particularly magically relevant–" as far as he was aware; he knew of two relatively large vampire covens that made their home in and around Lisbon, whose existence and centuries-long quarrels tended to dissuade human magicals from settling for long, and Gibraltar's size and uncertain muggle governance made developing a notable magical neighbourhood difficult "–but the official language of Gibraltar is English, so I won't need to be constantly playing translator."
"That's not a bad point," Remus offered with a smile that was only a little strained.
"I'll look up magical resorts tomorrow," James promised, before grimacing slightly and turning to Harry. "Given what happened the last time we were in Spain–"
"Gibraltar isn't Spain, technically," Harry couldn't resist pointing out.
"Close enough," Remus said before James could do more than narrow his eyes.
James motioned towards Remus with his fork, then turned a bland look on Harry. "Resist the urge to vanish for extended periods."
Harry huffed a bit, because there was a note of uncertainty in his father's voice that was familiar. "You can just say, 'Harry, the thought of you visiting Voldemort while we're on holiday is disturbing; don't do it'."
Sirius barked out a laugh and reached over to smack James' arm. "Kid's got a point, Prongs."
James took a moment to rub at his eyes, then resettled his glasses before turning a slightly tired look on Harry. "Please remain in whatever country we're visiting for the extent of the holiday, for this trip and in future. Unless it's an emergency."
Harry flashed him a grateful smile at that last bit. "I think I can promise that much," he agreed.
"Good. Let's never have this discussion again."
Sirius' following cackle may or may not have started a food fight.
"Kill the spare," Voldemort said, his voice too high-pitched, and Harry looked up, found himself pointing his old holly wand at Cedric as he'd know him two lifetimes ago.
"Avada kedavra," he heard himself say, and violent green light shot from the tip of his wand, bathing Cedric in death.
He blinked – this wasn't how it happened – and Voldemort said, again, "Kill the spares," but his voice was more normal, the pitch of his more snake-like appearance in the current reality.
Harry looked up, and it wasn't Cedric he was looking at, but Will and Chris. The extra Potter boys. The ones who wouldn't have existed if Harry wasn't wereborn. He stared at them for a moment, taking in their terror, and then he opened his mouth and–
The shock of pain woke him, and Harry took a moment to gasp for air against the carpeting of his bedroom, shoulder throbbing where he must have hit it against the frame of his bed on his way out of it.
When he was finally settled enough to sit up, he wasn't surprised to find tears on his face. "Death," he whispered, because he knew his brothers were safe, that it had just been a dream, but–
"They are both sleeping safely in their dorms, Master, as is Cedric," Death was quick to promise.
"Thank you," he whispered, closing his eyes to rub at them.
Except he could still see them in the dark behind his eyes, staring at him with terror from the other end of the holly wand he'd only ever had in his first life.
"Fuck," he hissed, opening his eyes again to stare out at the darkened room.
Really, he should have known he wouldn't be able to get any sleep the night before the final task. He'd actually considered, during his GCSEs the previous week, making himself some Dreamless Sleep, but he'd occasionally had nightmares despite the potion, during his last reality, especially in the days following both Voldemort's and the non-humans' separate victories, and taking the potion meant he couldn't wake up as easily. Rather than chance nightmares he couldn't wake from, Harry would always prefer just forcing himself to ignore his own exhaustion, exams or no. (Possibly helped by some of those auror-restricted potions he wasn't supposed to know how to make.)
Sighing in resignation, Harry untangled himself from his sheets, then made his way down to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. It was just starting to boil when he heard his mum on the stairs, and he hesitated for a moment before pulling down a mug for her.
"Couldn't sleep?" he guessed when she stopped in the kitchen doorway.
"Something like that," she agreed with an unexpected amount of care, and Harry shot her a confused look. She offered a sad sort of smile in return and walked over to draw him into a hug.
"Mum?" Harry asked, confused, even as he hugged her back.
She pulled away enough to meet his eyes, her hands bracketing his shoulders, and said, "You've taken part in a TriWizard Tournament before."
Harry couldn't stop himself from stiffening, and his throat felt too dry to attempt a denial.
Lily pulled him into another hug, and Harry felt too stiff for a long moment, and then she whispered, "It's okay, baby," and he felt a little like someone had hit him with a jelly-legs jinx, clinging to her because he really wasn't certain he could hold his own weight.
Somehow – Harry was nearly certain magic was involved, though he didn't see her casting any spells – Lily got both of them to one of the sofas in the living room, two mugs with fully steeped tea waiting for them on the coffee table.
Once they were settled, and Harry had a warm mug held tight between his hands, Lily quietly commented, "When you heard about the tournament, the expression on your face was the same as when Voldemort got attacked."
"Ah," Harry breathed, staring down into his mug and trying to figure out how to spin this, because it had been over two hundred years since the last tournament, and while Tom was the only one who knew that he'd known the dark lord in the past, he'd never taken pains to suggest he'd lived so long ago.
Lily brushed a hand through his hair, and Harry peeked up at her, taking in her tired smile, the familiar gleam of love in the eyes he'd inherited, and he realised he...couldn't lie to her.
He turned his attention back down to his mug, staring at the faint ripples in the liquid that formed with every breath, and said, "When I died, the first time, before I studied death magic–" Lily let out a startled breath, which Harry didn't acknowledge, though he knew he'd been leaving everyone to believe this was only his second life "–I already had a sort of...relationship, I guess, with Death. He let me pick between dying, or being brought back to life, or moving to another version of myself. To an alternate reality."
He peeked out at her, saw her wide eyes, and had to look back down at his tea, couldn't bring himself to determine whether or not she believed him. "My first – original – reality, I wasn't a squib, was a threat, so Voldemort came to kill me Halloween of '81. He– Severus had pled for your life in that reality, too, and Voldemort gave you the option to get out of the way, to leave, but you...you wouldn't. And when he killed you, that created a sort of protective spell over me, rebounded the killing curse he cast on me, and he ended up not quite dead, like what happened last summer.
"That," he admitted quietly, closing his eyes against tears, because he hated that it had taken him three lives to be able to make any memories with his parents while they were alive, "hearing Dad tell you to get me and run, hearing you ask Voldemort to kill you and not me...that was the only memory I had of you for–"
Lily yanking him into a tight hug cut him off, and he didn't even care that his tea spilt everywhere, grabbing for her and barely managing to bite back a sob, because remembering the echoes of that terrible night hurt, especially on the tail of his earlier nightmare.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.
Her arms tightened around him and she sounded like she was crying, too, but there was plenty of steel in her voice when she ordered, "Don't you dare. You have nothing to apologise for." Then she pushed him back, cupping his face in her hands and catching his eyes before saying, "I love you, Harry."
"I know," Harry whispered, because he did, even if he was sometimes a little afraid that he'd eventually do something so abhorrent, she'd never be able to forgive him.
She stared at him for a long moment, like she was looking for any hint of a lie, before relaxing slightly and brushing her thumbs over the tear tracks Harry knew were on his face. "So, you've always been Harry Potter?"
He nodded. "Yeah." He shrugged and couldn't quite meet her eyes when he admitted, "Third time's the charm; you and Dad survived this time."
She stiffened and, when Harry peeked up at her, her expression was twisted with something a lot bit terrible and a little bit knowing.
"Mum?"
"Aunt Petunia raised you," she said, a sort of hollow sound to her voice.
Harry swallowed and caught her shoulders, half expecting she'd apparate to Privet Drive and let her sister have it. "You and Dad made Peter your secret-keeper, but everyone assumed it was Sirius, so he ended up going to Azkaban when Peter faked his death. So I–" He coughed. "Yes, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon raised me. The first time."
Lily looked like she'd very much like to have words with her sister, but she forced herself to take a deep breath, then another, before asking, "And the second time?"
Harry shrugged. "I knew where Peter was; I hunted him down and imperiused him so he'd turn himself in and Sirius would be freed."
Lily opened her mouth, closed it, then squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. "I don't know how to feel about that," she admitted.
Harry shifted back slightly, to the other side of the sofa, and shrugged. "Yeah. Being turned into a mindless killing beast on the full moon, then coming to your senses in time to stare a fellow auror in the eyes right before he smiles and offs you isn't, it turns out, particularly good for your sanity."
There was a heavy silence following that, and then James – who Harry hadn't heard come downstairs – said, "I picked a bad time, didn't I?"
Harry winced and covered his face, sort of wishing the couch would just eat him or something.
"Harry was just telling me," Lily said in a voice that was trying to be steady, "that this is his third life as Harry Potter. Apparently, he got stuck with my sister the first time, because Sirius was in Azkaban."
"Well, shit," James said.
Harry choked on a laugh and peeked between his fingers at where his dad was stepping carefully into the room, his expression twisted with something that could have been pain. That Lily didn't tell him off for cursing was pretty telling, and Harry wondered, for a moment, if maybe telling them the truth was a really bad idea.
And then James reached the sofa and leant down to tug Harry into a tight, sideways hug.
He couldn't quite manage to bite back a quiet noise of surprise, and his dad's arms tightened around him in reaction to it. Harry swallowed and reached up with his hands, wrapping them around James' arm and leaning against him. Then he closed his eyes and just breathed. And it was hard not to notice the horror and grief so obvious in both their scents, but there was so much love, too, and he focussed on that, let that reminder that they cared about him settle him.
Finally, though, James pulled back, shoving him slightly closer to Lily. "Scoot so I can sit," he ordered, and Harry did so, grimacing a bit when he ended up on top of the patch of cushion that was still wet from his spilt tea. Lily magically dried the mess while James got settled, and he asked, as he draped an arm across Harry's shoulders, "So, how did Mum get you to spill the truth?"
Harry winced at that, reminded of the topic that started the whole thing. He caught the hem of his sleep shirt between his fingers, fussing with a section that the thread had pulled out of, and explained, "After Voldemort came to kill me and his curse rebounded, he was sort of stuck as a kind of spirit. He could possess living things for short periods, but not much else. Uhm, my fourth year – so what would have been last year? – the ministry decided to revive the TriWizard Tournament. Voldemort, he'd found a couple of his Death Eaters by then, he heard about it and decided to use it to get to me."
"Oh no," Lily breathed, and one of her hands reached out and covered Harry's hands.
Harry shrugged. "Mad-Eye Moody was supposed to be our defence professor that year, but Barty Crouch Jr got him, used polyjuice to take his place. He put my name in the goblet, confounded it so it would pick me for certain."
"You were underage," James said, an edge of anger in his voice. "Surely you couldn't be beholden to a magical contract that you didn't even agree to!"
Harry shrugged and glanced over at his father. "The age of majority wasn't the same in the seventeen hundreds as it is today, and no one was going to go around mucking with a magical artefact that powerful to update it so it complies with modern magical law," he pointed out, because he'd looked into that, a bit, when he'd heard about the tournament happening again.
James scowled and looked away. "Still," he muttered.
Harry sighed. "I didn't have a magical guardian to fight for me," he offered quietly, and his dad's eyes squeezed shut, pain lining his face. Harry freed one of his hands from Lily's hold and patted James' knee, then continued, "The tasks were...pretty much the same as this time: Getting a gold egg from a dragon, going down into the Black Lake to get someone you cared about from the merfolk village, and fighting your way through a giant maze to the Cup."
"You didn't even have to cheat to find out," James realised, and the smile he shot at Harry looked like it hurt.
Harry let out a snort. "Not really," he admitted. "Though, I wasn't certain how similar the tasks would actually be, at first. After the dragon, and finding out Ludo Bagman's the head of Games and Sports, same as he was during the tournament my first reality, I'd sort of realised they were going to be about the same. Probably some differences to the maze, since Hagrid's dead, but the basics are the same."
James and Lily both let out similar snorts of amusement at the mention of Hagrid. "I take it you're familiar with Hagrid's penchant for dangerous creatures, then," James commented with some slightly strained humour.
Harry flashed him a smile that ached just a little. "He got a dragon egg my first year; we got detention sneaking the baby up to the roof for Charlie Weasley and his mates to collect."
James burst out laughing at that, while Lily let out a helpless sort of laugh. "Of course he did," she said, shaking her head.
Harry snorted at their reactions; clearly, both of them had had their own occasions to discover Hagrid's unfortunate tendency towards violent magical creatures. "Cedric," he offered, once his dad had mostly stopped laughing, "was the other Hogwarts champion, same as this year. We ended up tied for first place, after the first two tasks, so we entered the maze together. Reached the Cup about the same time, too, and agreed to take it together. Hogwarts win either way, right?"
"But, if Voldemort had used the tournament as a trap–" Lily said, horror in her voice.
Harry nodded. "The Cup was a portkey, and we landed in a graveyard. Cedric was killed, Voldemort returned to his full power, and I barely made it out with my life," he explained, and he hated the way his voice shook.
They were all quiet for a long moment, and then James squeezed Harry's shoulder. "That's not going to happen this time."
Harry drew in a careful breath. "I know that," he admitted. "Everything's very different, and I'm not involved, besides. Still, the tournament is...a lot of bad memories; I'll be glad when it's over."
"We all will," Lily offered, squeezing Harry's hand.
There was quiet for another beat, then James said, "You faced a dragon."
Harry couldn't completely bite back a slightly mad little laugh, because little did his father know about his many adventures with dragons; he'd actually had to go, after the wars in his second reality, and mediate between a couple of dragons who had decided they both liked the same peak in the Alps, because the local ministries hadn't been dumb enough to try to get between a couple of dragons, but since they technically fell under the Alpha Lord's purview...
"I summoned my broom," he told James, focussing back on the first task in his original reality. "Flew circles around her until she started to take off, then swooped in and grabbed the egg."
James sort of stared at him, wide-eyed, for a long moment, before his mouth split with a grin and he dragged Harry into a hug. "That must have been amazing. Tell me you played for Gryffindor's team."
"James!" Lily snapped.
Harry, though, laughed and nodded. "I made seeker my first year." He glanced at Lily's glare and offered, "Once I was on my broom, I was actually pretty calm. Play quidditch long enough, even a dragon's an easy opponent."
Lily sighed and slumped, looking a bit tired. "Of course it is," she said a bit helplessly.
James let Harry go and ruffled his hair. "You realise," he said in a conspiratorial tone, "that I'm not going to let you alone, now, until I've seen you play at least one professional game."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Have to find a team that'll accept me, first."
The determined glint in James' eyes promised that he would find a way to get Harry on a team. "Leave that to me, pup. I've got connections."
"It sort of worries me when he says that," Harry stage whispered to his mum, and James huffed, while she shook her head. He flashed his dad a smile, then said, "I got Voldemort to agree to come to one game if I make a team."
James' expression twisted, caught somewhere between amused and disbelieving. "You got Voldemort to agree to attend a quidditch game."
Harry nodded, probably a little too amused. "I don't even have to kill anyone as a bribe!" he offered in as cheerful a tone as he could manage.
James choked out a laugh, looking a little like it hurt. "If he comes to a second game, don't tell Mum, or she'll ground you on principle."
Harry's managed a slightly strained laugh in response, peeking over his shoulder at Lily. When he saw she wasn't smiling, was actually looking a little bit pale, he swallowed his amusement and asked, "Mum?"
Lily reached out and caught both of Harry's hands in hers. "Your lover," she said carefully, "the one you said committed suicide..." She paused for a moment while Harry stiffened, then looked up and caught his eyes. "It was Voldemort," she guessed.
Harry swallowed and somehow managed a nod, was fairly certain words were beyond him right that moment.
Lily caught her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying at it and looking like she wanted to ask for more details, but it was actually James who asked, "Why? I can't imagine Voldemort just...killing himself. Even if you're in trouble."
"I wasn't–" slipped out before Harry could quite manage to stop himself, and he cleared his throat, looking down at where his mum was holding his hands, trying to figure out how to explain the events that had led up to that Tom's suicide. "In my last reality," he offered carefully, "I...sort of needed the ministry out of the way, so I decided to let Voldemort do it. We sort of...became friends, in the process. And then more. But when–" He stopped, shook his head, and grabbed for the cold persona that had protected him at the time. "Voldemort served his purpose, and he'd realised the next step would be his death. So he killed himself, so I didn't have to."
And then he was being pulled into a warm hug by Lily, James' hands twin points of comfort on his shoulders, and Harry had no control over the ruined almost-sob he choked out. Because this was–
There had never been anyone to comfort Harry after that Tom's death, because no one had known they were more than allies, so he'd just buried his grief, pretended he was okay. But, as evidenced by his near-breakdown on the dark lord's birthday, not to mention his reaction to Voldemort being attacked in the ministry, he wasn't okay. Probably never would be, not if he kept falling in love with the man.
"I'm so fucked up," he said, almost didn't realise he'd said it out loud right away, because neither of his parents reacted.
Eventually, Lily pulled back and caught a hand under his chin, making him look up. "Language," she warned.
Harry huffed and couldn't quite resist saying, "You're not arguing."
"I think we all know that you would...what is it you once said?" James said behind him. "Give a therapist an aneurysm?"
Harry choked on a slightly mad little giggle, because his father had a point about that.
Lily sighed and brushed some of Harry's hair back behind his ear, as though that would really help with getting it out of his face. "Well," she said quietly, "unless there's something you've avoided telling Dad or me, Voldemort won't be committing suicide this time."
More to the point, the dark lord would have a far harder time finding his horcruxes to accept them back into himself, since Harry hadn't left them laying around the house, nor was he in the habit of wearing one around his neck. And the place Harry had hidden them should have been beyond his abilities, since he was a squib and he'd used living magic to create and hide the container.
He smiled and shook his head. "I know," he admitted, "and I know how to revive him if someone tries killing him again."
James huffed and, when Harry twisted to glance back at him, offered him a tired smile before explaining, "I'm still a little bit stuck between wanting him out, and glad he makes you happy."
Harry felt his face warm at that, just a bit, and he cleared his throat. "Yeah, well, hazard of being an auror, I guess?"
"Something like that," James agreed, before something seemed to occur to him and he narrowed his eyes. "Did I hear you right, earlier? You were an auror?"
Harry blinked, then nodded, because he saw no reason to lie about that. "In my first reality. I joined up at the end of the war, soon as Voldemort was dead. Had to quit for a couple years, after I got turned, but I did a bit of fighting for werefolk rights and the ministry hired me back with a couple other werewolves."
James considered him for a long moment, then huffed and shook his head. "I suppose that explains how you learnt recipes for auror-restricted potions."
Harry rolled his eyes; somehow, he wasn't surprised that Remus had eventually folded and filled James in about Harry knowing how to make some potions he shouldn't have done. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Not a case of me sticking my nose where it doesn't belong, this time, just having a good memory."
James shook his head. "I'm going to have to pretend I don't see one of those potions later today, aren't I?"
Harry considered that for a moment, then grimaced and nodded. "Yeah. 'Fraid I'm not going to be getting back to sleep, and I can't not go to the final task."
James just sighed.
Lily touched his shoulder and he turned back to her as she offered, "I know Severus only technically invited you, but would you like Dad or me to come with?"
Harry opened his mouth to say no, a part of him baulking at the idea of needing his parents with him, before making himself stop and actually consider his current emotional state. After a moment, he decided, "No, I should be okay. I'll probably sit with Will and Geoffrey and make bets about how long it'll take for Fred and George to get bored with waiting and start pranking people."
"Oh, hey!" James called, a certain note of mischief in his voice that made Harry simultaneously interested and vaguely terrified. "I might have some things you can take with you. Prank the pranksters in true Marauder style by letting them take the fall for things you set up."
Harry laughed.
Severus' owl had suggested Harry come in time for dinner, so he waved to his parents, then stepped through the doorway that opened for him and made his way to Hogwarts.
Merope was lounging around outside the access to the headmaster's office, and Harry raised an eyebrow as he slowed to a stop next to her. "Tom's in Severus' office?" he guessed.
Merope smiled and nodded. "Severus was required to attend to an altercation following the last transfiguration exam of the day. Rather than him handling it in his office and chancing someone seeing you, Tom suggested he be the one to wait for you."
"No one had to wait for me," Harry pointed out.
Merope shook her head at him. "Of course not, but Tom wanted to."
Harry couldn't quite help a pleased smile at that, and he hurried to step through the doorway that opened for him before Merope thought to comment on it.
Voldemort looked up from where he appeared to be working on paperwork at Severus' desk, his expression going soft and a little fond as he caught sight of Harry's smile. "Hello, Scythe."
"Hi! Your mum said you were waiting for me."
Voldemort sighed in that way he tended to do when Harry let on that Merope was watching him and reporting back to Harry, then stood from the desk and stepped around it, meeting Harry partway. He cupped Harry's cheek, his expression going a little bit concerned. "You look tired."
Harry winced. "I had a rough night. It happens."
Voldemort frowned. "You didn't need to come."
Harry leant up and pressed a brief kiss to his mouth. "I'm already here, nothing for it but to keep Will in line."
"Just don't fall asleep during the task," Voldemort warned. "Especially if you're intending to be seated near the Weasleys."
Harry snorted. "Not a concern."
Voldemort cast him a suspicious look. "Illegal potions, Scythe?" he guessed. "What will your parents think?"
Harry rolled his eyes, then caught a hand behind the dark lord's nape and made him lean down enough that Harry didn't have to be on his tiptoes for a proper kiss.
They were eventually interrupted by someone clearing their throat, and both of them turned to glare at Albus' portrait, which simply smiled and said, "You wouldn't want to be late to supper, my boys."
"I am going to burn you," Voldemort hissed.
Harry sighed and caught the dark lord's wrist before he could get out his wand. "Let the bleeding heart alone, Voldemort," he said. "You know the school's magic will just make another one, anyway."
Voldemort hissed some rather inventive curses in Parseltongue, but he didn't fight Harry when he led him away from the desk and Albus' smile. On the staircase down to the gargoyle, though, Voldemort gently freed his wrist from Harry's hold and made a point of straightening his robes and putting on the scowl he usually wore in public.
Harry just shook his head, amused by his partner's absolute refusal to let anyone assume he might have a kind bone in his body. "Are you going to make me sit at the head table again?" he asked as they stepped out past the opened gargoyle.
Voldemort let out a hiss that, to Harry, sounded more amused than anything else. "Can you manage to not start a war over which table you're sitting at?"
"Ah." Harry considered that for a moment, then decided, "I think so." Because Hermione likely wouldn't care whether or not he sat with her, and since he'd promised to sit with Will during the task, it was only fair that he took dinner with Chris. Though he'd probably have to stop next to Will and let him know that.
"Very well."
Harry got lucky, actually; Will was standing in the entrance hall, apparently being introduced to Cedric's parents when Harry and Voldemort started down the main staircase. Voldemort's appearance made everyone go very, very quiet, but then Will apparently spotted Harry, because he grinned and called, "Harry!"
Rather than continuing to behave on account of Voldemort's presence, Harry hurried down the rest of the staircase with a grin of his own, completely unsurprised when Will met him at the bottom with a hug. "Hi, trouble," he offered as he ruffled Will's hair.
Will stuck his tongue out at him, then caught his arm and dragged him back over to the Diggorys. "This is my brother, Harry!" he told them.
All three of the Diggorys offered Harry slightly strained smiles, and Harry sighed and offered, "I apologise for my brother's usual lack of tact."
"Hey!"
Cedric's smile turned a bit more honest. "I'm getting used to it," he commented.
Harry snorted and shook his head, then turned to his brother as Voldemort finally passed into the great hall. "Since I'm going to sit with you during the task, do you mind if I sit with Chris for dinner?"
Will huffed a bit, but Harry had a feeling it was all for show.
"You won't be sitting with your own house?" Mrs Diggory asked.
Harry blinked at that; after the article about the second task, where he'd been outted as a squib, he'd sort of expected everyone to know that about him. Though, he supposed, being the eldest Potter brother was hardly as recognisable as being the Boy Who Lived. "I'm a squib," he told Mrs Diggory, and all three Diggorys winced. He shrugged at their response and turned a raised eyebrow on his brother.
Will nodded. "I suppose you can sit with the stupid snakes."
Harry rolled his eyes and ruffled Will's hair again, then turned and held out a hand to Cedric. "Good luck."
Cedric took his hand with a strained smile. "Thanks."
Harry shook his head and promised, "You'll be fine," then turned and shooed Will into the great hall ahead of him.
He waved at Hermione and other students he knew as he saw them, and settled in next to Chris, who had been quick to make space for him when he made it to his part of the Slytherin table. While no one said anything to his face, his werewolf hearing let him hear plenty of other students muttering about him being a squib while they all ate, and he knew from his brothers that they had both suffered their share of insults shortly after the article had come out. The Weasley twins had only had to step in a couple times to get the lot in Gryffindor to shut up, and Chris had, wisely, used his familiarity with Severus and Barty to get his fellow Slytherins to back off, so at least they were no longer getting any abuse for being related to a squib.
Harry walked to the maze with the Slytherins, once they'd been dismissed to head out there, and used the noise and chaos of the crowd to pass Chris a handful of the pranks James had given him that afternoon, figuring it was only fair that Chris got a chance to cause some mayhem and blame it on the twins, same as Harry intended to do. (Given the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and the number of times the twins had left pranks for unsuspecting Slytherins, they were far more likely culprits than the youngest Potter son.)
Harry waved his goodbyes to Chris when they reached the stands and went to hunt down Will, eventually finding him with Hermione, Geoffrey, Luna, and all four of the Weasleys in the middle of the Gryffindor section of the stands.
"Someone looking to earn last minute points in the name of inter-house friendships?" he had to ask as he settled into the open seat between Will and Hermione.
Hermione huffed and hugged him. "No. I just knew the likelihood of my getting to see you increased if I sat with the lions. And since I was coming over here, I figured it was best if I brought Luna with me, rather than leave her to the other eagles."
Harry flashed her an approving grin, then leant forward to trade greetings with the rest of the surrounding students he was familiar with, laughingly refusing to put bets on the outcome of the tournament when he was asked.
When Voldemort stepped up to the circle of champions, the stands quickly fell silent, and he didn't bother with casting any magic to make his voice louder as, despite his preference for speaking quietly – believing, Harry knew, that it came across as far more threatening – he was quite capable of projecting his voice the muggle way.
"The third and final task of the TriWizard Tournament will begin directly. The champions will be required to make their way through the maze to the centre, where the TriWizard Cup awaits them. The first to collect it will be named the winner. Based on the current points, Mr Cedric Diggory, of Hogwarts School, will enter the maze first."
The students didn't let their fear of Voldemort stop them from roaring their approval and support, and the dark lord waited them out with, for him, an unusual show of patience.
Still, when he motioned for their silence, they shut up, letting him continue with, "After five minutes, Miss Jeanne André, of Beauxbatons Academy will enter the maze." He paused again, giving the Beauxbâtons contingent the chance to voice their support. "Miss Zofia Wojczyk, of Durmstrang Institute, will enter last." Again, he allowed the school in question the chance to cheer. When they shut up, the dark lord held up a globe that caught the last few rays of sunlight, which was small enough to fit easily in his hand. "These balls will be following the champions through the maze, remaining high enough to not cause a hindrance, and will project images of their progress over the maze."
Harry blinked in surprise, because that he hadn't expected. Leave it to the too-clever dark lord to find a way to keep the audience from getting bored.
Voldemort tapped the globe in his hand with his wand and it lit up bright yellow, then left his hand and zoomed over to hover above Cedric's head, high enough that it would be above the hedges of the maze and, Harry could only assume, above the range of any spells cast to trip the champions up. After another moment, an image of the champions from above flickered into being over the entrance to the maze, and the crowd roared their approval; they clearly remembered how tedious the second task had been.
Voldemort turned to the champions and, under the dying cheers of the crowd, Harry could just make out him telling Cedric to step up to the entrance of the maze, which he did, wand held tightly in his right hand. There was a moment of silence, the crowd holding their breath, and then a whistle sounded – Harry looked to the judges table just in time to see Severus passing a silver whistle down to Madame Maxime – and Cedric vanished into the hedges.
"Those globes are brilliant," Hermione breathed as they watched Cedric pause for a moment at a T-intersection, before going left.
"I'm sure he's ridiculously proud of them," Harry murmured, amused. "A little surprised he's so far resisted bragging about them." When Hermione cast him a quick, questioning glance, he rolled his eyes, and she started giggling.
As the other two champions were released into the maze, two additional images flickered into existence over the front of the maze, and while they couldn't always tell what magical hazards the champions faced, they always knew when something was there, because they would slow or stop entirely as they fought the hazard off. The crowd alternated cheers and cries, depending on which image they were watching and how that champion was getting on, which was rather a different experience than any other spectator event Harry had attended.
As a general rule, all three champions were doing quite well, though they all had slightly different ways of making their way through the maze: Cedric, notably, kept to kinder reactions to hazards, often leaving any magical creatures behind with nothing worse than some minor burns, and most spell hazards, he found ways to duck around without destroying them. In opposition, Wojczyk tended to blast spells out of existence when she came across them, and while she was harsher about getting creatures to leave her alone, she didn't outright kill any of them, which Harry approved of. André was somewhere between the other two when it came to dealing with magical hazards, destroying as many as she left, and most creatures she came across ended up tangled in the hedge, which she seemed to have a certain fondness for. (Given her use of gillyweed during the second task, Harry wasn't as surprised about that as some of his particularly vocal neighbours were.)
With entertainment provided, the twins didn't actually start pranking people, and Harry kept his own store of pranks from James in his pocket. Judging by an outcry from the section of the stands the Slytherins had claimed, not long after Wojczyk entered the maze, Chris hadn't been quite so kind to his fellow snakes. (Given that one of the pranked appeared to be Draco Malfoy, if his newly red skin was anything to go by, Harry rather approved.)
Despite the images serving as entertainment, the students did start to get a little restless as they started approaching the hour mark. Likewise, the champions seemed to be tiring, if their slowing movements were anything to go by.
Somewhat unexpectedly, Cedric and André entered a wide-open area at about the same time. Both of their globes panned, showing the Cup between them, as well as the acromantula standing over it, which explained why neither of them had run forward. (Cue horrified noises from Ron on account of the massive spider.)
They both started stepping carefully forward. André must have made some sort of noise – or else the acromantula happened to spot her first – because she stumbled backwards without any warning, waving her wand in that way she'd often done to use the hedges against creatures. Except there were no hedges in range, and a hairy foot came into the frame, André just barely dodging it.
Cedric, for his part, had used the acromantula's distraction to hurry forward, quickly covering the distance between him and the Cup, which made the Hogwarts stands roar with victory. But Cedric – as Harry had, privately, half-expected – didn't take the Cup, staring past it at where André was losing more ground against the acromantula. After a beat, he motioned with his wand, sending a spell out of the frame of his image.
"What is he doing?" a number of students around Harry demanded.
Harry just shook his head, amused and resigned. With any luck, Cedric wouldn't be so noble as to offer the Cup to André, as another version of him had once tried to do for Harry. (If he did, he'd probably end up needing to be protected from the crowd, because at least a third of the Hogwarts students looked ready to lynch him for not taking the Cup when he had the chance, never mind if he passed it on to the French.)
Once she realised she had help, André stopped retreating and started shooting out spells of her own. Together, the two champions must have managed to take out the acromantula, because they stopped casting nearly at the same time, while hairy legs the width of a person's leg sort of slid out across the ground, visible in both of their images.
There was a tense moment – Cedric had moved far enough from the Cup, it was no longer in his frame, and it was difficult to judge which of them would have an easier time getting around the acromantula to grab it – the whole audience holding its breath, and then André gave a short bow and motioned for Cedric to go.
Wisely, Cedric did so without arguing about it, and the stands roared their approval as he took the handle of the Cup and vanished from his image, shortly after appearing in the space in front of the maze, where he stared around with wide eyes for a moment, then raised the Cup in a show of victory.
André and Wojczyk appeared behind him after a moment – the globes apparently doubled as portkeys – both looking tired and Wojczyk, at least, looking cross.
Somewhat unexpectedly, the British Minister for Magic, Corban Yaxley, was the one to step forward and congratulate all of the champions, giving Cedric the prize money in trade for the Cup. Harry glanced towards the judges' table, frowning, but Voldemort seemed to have vanished, and he hoped it wasn't because something had gone wrong, though that was always a possibility, especially with their corner of the world's attention focussed on the tournament.
Well, Harry would hear about it, one way or the other, eventually. Until either Voldemort asked for help, or Death suggested he might need to get involved, there was no point in him worrying about it.
Will made noises like he wanted to congratulate Cedric, but Harry – with the help of Ginny and Hermione – managed to talk him into waiting until the next day, given the mob of Hogwarts students currently intent on congratulating their champion. (Anyway, judging by the expression on Madam Pomfrey's face, the champions would all very shortly be on their way to the infirmary.)
"Getting to the party early," Ginny commented as they followed the twins from the stands, "is the best way to lessen the chance of getting food that's been pranked."
"She has a point," Harry agreed, and Hermione snorted next to him.
"I suppose," Will agreed, before glancing over at Harry. "Are you going to stay for the party this time?"
Harry shrugged. "I can probably stay for a little bit," he decided, and Will's face lit up. "But I do have to be back eventually, or Mum'll come after me."
Will grimaced. "Oh, yeah."
Harry chuckled, and was just turning to see where Hermione was – she'd fallen behind him a bit, and he didn't want to lose her in the crowd without getting the chance to say goodbye – when he spotted a group of sixth and seventh year Slytherins with murder in their eyes, wands aimed at the unaware Weasley twins. "Fred! George!" he shouted, even as he called his squib wand to his hand and threw up a shield spell between them and the Slytherins.
Spellfire splashed against the shield, lighting the grass and the surrounding students, many of whom screamed and stumbled out of the way. The shield held, easily, and Harry breathed a quick word of gratitude for the dark lord's work in attaching the wand to his magical core, because the shield from the original wand would have broken after the second curse.
Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Ron, Seamus, and a couple of Gryffindor sixth years all turned to face the Slytherins, pulling out their wands. When Will moved to join them, Harry grabbed his shoulder and snarled, "Get inside, William!"
Will, wisely, didn't fight him, instead taking Luna and Geoffrey's arms and pulling them with him towards the open doors of the castle. Hermione hurried after them, casting a brief, worried look back over her shoulder at Harry.
Harry wished he could spare her a reassuring smile, but he was already hurrying over to the Gryffindors, grabbing Ron's wrist before he could cast a spell. "Wands down!" he snapped, casting a glare over the upper year Gryffindors. While most of them looked content to ignore him, the twins (somewhat surprisingly) and Angelina lowered their wands, motioning for their neighbours to do the same. "Do you want detention for the last week of term?" Harry hissed to Ron, and he let out an irritated sound, but lowered his wand, Seamus following suit.
"Cowards!" one of the Slytherins shouted. "You'll only attack us when our backs are turned, now?"
Harry squinted against the glow of his shield as one of the twins shot back, "Look who's talking!" He spotted the tell-tale signs of one of the pranks James had sent with him on at least two of them and bit back a sigh; perhaps leaving the pranks to be blamed on the twins hadn't been the wisest course.
As the Slytherins raised their wands again, Harry stepped past his shield and flatly stated, "If you want to be cross with someone for pranking you, you're best looking to me." Because no way he was going to point fingers at Chris, and he couldn't think of any other way to keep a massive end-of-term war from breaking out between the two houses.
The Slytherins sort of stared at him for a moment, while the Gryffindors let out noises of surprise. And then one of the Slytherins laughed and said, "You're the Potter squib! What can you do?"
Harry tilted his head to the side. "Surely you took potions? It's amazing the sorts of things you can do without a wand." And then he flashed a smile, taking care to keep his teeth human-shaped, because he doubted showing off he was a werewolf would help matters.
"You dirty little freak," one of them snarled, before throwing a violet-coloured spell at Harry.
Harry snapped up a new shield around himself, then cast the disarming charm. Either the Slytherin hadn't expected that move, or he just had a generally shitty hold on his wand, because it jumped from his grip almost before Harry finished the wand motion. He directed it to his feet, rather than catching it, and moved his foot to hover over where it landed in the grass.
"You know," he said in his best icy tone into the tense silence that followed, "this habit you wand-users have of name-calling on account of my not being able to use a wand is pretty much the entire reason you got pranked. So, tell you what, you little snakes leave my brothers the hell alone, and I won't snap every single one of your precious sticks."
A couple of the Slytherins looked like they were considering cursing him, but the snake whose wand he had hissed for them to back off.
One of the Slytherins took a step forward, holding up his hands to show they were empty. "Point made, Potter. We won't be using your being a squib against your brothers in future."
Harry considered the boy for a moment. His instincts were screaming that he wasn't being completely honest, but there wasn't really a whole lot he could do to protect his brothers, given he wasn't at Hogwarts. With luck, Severus and Barty would continue to serve as a deterrent against anyone who thought Chris and Will were easy targets. So he nodded and picked up the stolen wand, then tossed it towards the closer Slytherin.
As he turned to rejoin the Gryffindors, his own wand slipped from his grasp, and he turned to raise an unimpressed eyebrow as the Slytherin who'd stepped forward to talk to him reached out a hand to catch it with a nasty smirk.
Just before it reached him, the tether activated and Harry's wand snapped back towards him, returning to the hand he held out for it. "Yeah," he said to the disbelieving stares, "not the first time someone's tried taking my wand from me."
And then, before matters could further devolve – Harry honestly wasn't certain whether the Gryffindors behind him or the Slytherins would explode first – Severus stalked into the space between them, looking furious. Barty and McGonagall weren't far behind him, both looking pretty pissed off themselves. "My office," Severus snarled, looking between the two sides. "All of you. Now."
Harry turned to follow the Gryffindors into the castle, rather unsurprised when he found himself quickly shuffled into the middle of them, like they thought he needed to be protected. (Really, though, they weren't likely to be able to protect him from Lily, who would probably ground him for causing trouble. Even if James had been the one to slip him the pranks.)
Severus led the way to the gargoyle, McGonagall and Barty bringing up the rear to – Harry could only assume – ensure none of the students tried to make a run for it. As he stepped into his office, however, Severus' steps stuttered, and he said, "My Lord, I thought you'd left."
"Not quite," Voldemort replied flatly, and the scent of the students changed to nearly overwhelming terror, which made Harry sigh a bit. "I do hope none of the students decided to cross wands with the French," the dark lord added, a note of warning in his voice, as the students started stepping off the staircase and into the office.
"Not quite, My Lord," Severus replied.
Harry glanced up as he was tugged off to one side of the office by Angelina and caught Voldemort's gaze. The dark lord closed his eyes briefly, then said, in Parseltongue (further terrifying the students and the three professors), :Scythe, I sincerely hope this isn't your doing.:
Harry winced.
Voldemort let out a hiss that sounded a bit resigned, to Harry, and stood from behind Severus' desk. "A fight between houses," he said flatly, and the students all flinched, not a one of them daring to look at the dark lord.
Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Voldemort motioned towards Severus, who cleared his throat before requesting, "Harry, perhaps you can supply an unbiased account?"
Harry sighed and stepped forward. "I don't know about unbiased," he admitted, and Severus narrowed his eyes. "After that article came out, Will and Chris got a lot of flak for having a squib as a brother. I brought pranks to get back some of the worst of the perpetrators. Set some up for the Slytherins at dinner, but I didn't manage to get any of the Gryffindors, figured I'd wait for the party in their common. The Slytherins assumed Fred and George were the perpetrators and tried attacked them. When I corrected them, they turned their ire on me." He cleared his throat, then admitted, "I may have threatened to snap some wands."
Severus rubbed at the bridge of his nose, looking a bit like he couldn't decide if he should laugh or yell. Finally, he ordered, "Give me the rest of the pranks."
Harry pulled the bag of them out of his pocket and stepped forward to hand them over without complaint. As he handed them over, the dark lord crooked a finger at him and, sighing again, Harry stepped over to him. "I believe," Voldemort said in a bland tone that Harry was nearly certain was hiding laughter, "I told you not to start any wars while you were visiting."
"Sorry," Harry offered. Mostly honestly.
"Fifty points from Slytherin, and detention tomorrow night for all of you," Severus announced and, judging by the shifting some of them did, they would have been arguing that if Voldemort weren't in the room. "It doesn't matter what they've done, you do not attack visitors to this school, especially if that visitor is a squib. As punishment for not attempting to find a professor, neither of your houses will be enjoying a victory party tonight."
The Gryffindors let out quiet groans, but none of them dared to argue.
"Professors McGonagall and Crouch will see you back to your common rooms," Severus ordered, and the professors in question set about leading their students out of the office.
Once the last of the students had left the office, Severus turned to Harry with a tired look and held up the bag of pranks. "I expect I have your father to thank for this."
Harry shrugged. "I'm afraid so. Do I need to forewarn Mum she's going to be grounding me once your owl gets to her?"
Voldemort snorted.
Severus gave Harry a considering look, clearly debating his options, before deciding, "As you resisted the urge to either break any wands or kill any students, I won't owl her. This time."
"Thank you," Harry replied with a quick, grateful smile. "I expect you want me to leave before I can accidentally cause any more trouble, though."
"Please."
Harry glanced up at Voldemort. "I'll see you over the weekend," he offered in Atlantean.
"Assuming your mother doesn't find out and ground you anyway," Voldemort returned in his careful Atlantean.
Harry grimaced, then motioned with one hand and stepped into the doorway that opened for him, turning and making his way home. He fully intended to share the news about Cedric winning the tournament, then crawl into bed and wait for the potion he'd taken to wear off so he could sleep.
Stand Against the Moon Chapters:
Pro | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05
06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12
Nose to the Wind Chapters:
1 - Death Once Again || 2 - Bring Out All the Good Inside Me || 3 - Death and Living Reconciled
4 - Orphan Man || 5 - Using Gentle Words to Shelter Me || 6 - Living on Your Breath
7 - You Just Might Get it All || 8 - Never Want to Come Down || 9 - Only the Silence Remains
10 - Love is a Doing Word || 11 - Nothing Sacred || 12 - The Heart Yearns
13 - Mirrored in Your Stare || 14 - Camouflage Denial || 15 - Precious and Fragile Things
16 - Perfectly Reckless || 17 - Your Arms Feel Like Home || 18 - The Sun Will Set For You
19 - Your Love Has Always Been Enough || 20 - Keep Up This Charade ||
22 - Give Yourself a Try || 23 - Done Pleading Ignorance || 24 - Your Razorblade Caress of Love
25 - Summer's Scent Still Lingers || 26 - Burn Out the Stain || 27 - Final Masquerade
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