Chapter 20 - if

Chapter 2: Prologue Part 2

I hope you enjoy this story.

Needless to say, I don't own Harry Potter.

Please Favourite/Follow/Review

2 years later

A 13 year old Harry Potter sat at his table, extremely uncomfortable.

Why were they all staring at him. Surely it should be at the boy sat atop the stool in front of the teachers, not at his older brother, though either of them would deny the relation if they had the option.

"Gryffindor!" Was there ever any doubt? Thomas sauntered over to the cheering table, as the twin Weasleys chanted that they "Got Potter". Still, the eyes in the hall remained on Harry. Not all of them, of course, but enough to make the socially awkward Slytherin uneasy.

Harry's brother screamed arrogant. Even more than the blonde Ponce that had just sat down at the snake table. The boy-who-lived was speaking animatedly with the younger Weasley, after the redhead was sorted into the House of Lions, while Harry squirmed under the gazes of too many people.

"Trace." He whispered to the brunette sat next to him. "Why is everyone looking at me?" The girl took a break from glaring at the female population to answer him, easily telling a fib.

"Probably because of your brother." Harry accepted the explanation, unhappily, and nodded, annoyed at the relation and not noticing the telltale signs of the Davis girl lying. On Harry's other side, a blonde haired girl muttered her agreement, not taking her ice cold gaze off the offending females on the Ravenclaw table.

Harry turned an impassive look back onto the sorting, clapping politely as the 11 year olds were sorted, having learned that that was the normal thing to do; unlike the majority of his house, who only clapped for their fellow Slytherins. His house really was arrogant sometimes,a nd Harry could understand the ostracization they suffered because of the typical attitude.

The sorting passed by quickly enough, as the students were evenly split into 4. Unfortunately, his house had worse luck than normal based on the first impressions he got off those joining. 2 had constant sneers; they introduced themselves as Malfoy and Nott, and Harry's opinion was lowered by the fact that both families were well-known supporters of Voldemort. 2 more looked like gorillas and struck him as less intelligent than the primates would be. The only male that struck him as worth having in the house was a tall black boy that had an indifferent mask on. Seemingly a similar type of Slytherin to Daphne, and occasionally, when he remembered to do so, Harry; hiding his true self behind an indifferent mask. They were joined by a large girl, a pug-faced girl and a familiar figure; who was sat across from him. Harry smirked at Astoria as she looked distastefully at the bragging Malfoy heir, while the one called Pansy Parkinson stared at the blonde boy as though he was the reincarnation of Merlin and deserved her eternal love and respect.

Dumbledore made his speech. Telling the gathered children to avoid the third floor corridor couldn't possibly backfire could it? Moron.

Harry watched the younger Potter's eyes light up in excitement at that thought. Apparently he had inherited their father's idiotic sense of adventure.

"My brother is going to get himself killed." Harry commented to Daphne as the school song began. Her eyes glinted slightly in amusement as she turned to him, but otherwise she refrained from any visible reaction. Ice queen indeed.

Harry joined his house in directing scathing looks at the twins of Gryffindor, as they dragged the song out far more than necessary. It really was an idiotic, and very annoying, tradition that the two insisted on prolonging each year.

Harry took to carving into the table with his fingernail as he waited for the food to be served. He soon felt the food appear in front of him and reached out to fill his plate, ready to sate his hunger.

"Eww..." Harry heard Tracy moan. When the emerald eyed boy turned to her, silently asking the origin of her noise, she continued. "Don't look at the youngest Weasley. That's repulsive." The ginger boy was shovelling food into his mouth, missing half the time and smearing the food over his face. Tracy pushed her food away. "Ugh. I've lost my appetite."

"The elves'll be happy to give you some food later, if your appetite comes back." Harry suggested, shrugging as he avoided glancing at the gold and red table. Or maybe the revulsion would not last long.

"You're right. But I'm really just looking forward to sleeping in my warm, big bed." Tracy sighed, smiling pleasantly at Harry, who returned the expression.

On the other side of the room, another Potter had taken note of his sibling. The chubby figure of Thomas Potter frowned at the least friendly looking students.

"Fred, George. Who's that?" He pointed over at the student, seeming to be in the twins' year, who had a more than passing resemblance to Thomas' father.

"That's Harry..." George trailed off, looking to his brother.

"Yeah..."

"Harry what?" That name was familiar.

"Um... Harry Potter? Y'know, your brother." Next to them, people began to direct their attention towards the boy. Several of the girls, through their looks, indicated attraction to the teen; the subtlety varying from each of the females, while others held looks of begrudging admiration for the younger student. Boys typically held some small jealousy for the boy, though one in particular, this being Wood, looked at him as though he was Satan himself.

Harry frowned at the increase in attention, as he felt eyes boring into him.

"What?!" Now, Thomas was angry. "That's him?! The one that left my Mom and Dad heartbroken?! Because he was jealous of me?!"

And, suddenly, Thomas was on the receiving end of several heated glares, that made the boy whimper, and cower in fear; unused to the unpleasantness on such a scale and unsure of what he had done to inspire such anger.

"W-What?"

"Everyone knows the story." One twin began.

"Your parents neglected him-"

"'Cus you were the boy-who-lived-"

"And you lot didn't even realise that he'd run away-"

"Until Flitwick visited-"

"And found that he was gone."

"So you aren't going to get any-"

"Sympathy here. Especially since-"

"He's by far the most popular Slytherin there is-"

"Since he doesn't bother anyone, and-"

"Even sides with non-Slytherins sometimes-"

"And he was voted the most-eligible boy-"

"In the school by a landslide-"

"Because so many of the girls want to fu-ooph!"

The people present were used to the odd habit the twins had when talking, so nobody bothered to bring it up. Nor did they question Angelina Johnson's decision to elbow whichever twin had been talking in the ribs.

"What?! Why?!" Thomas exclaimed. In his mind, Harry didn't deserve any attention, being the prat he was. After all, he had been so cowardly and jealous he'd run away from home just because he didn't get as much attention as Tom did. And who could blame his parents? Thomas had defeated the greatest Dark Lord in history, Harry couldn't even write in English when he was 5 years old. "And who told you that Bollocks story?!"

"That would be professor Flitwick." The dark skinned girl sat near the twins, who had delivered an elbow to one of them's ribs, commented, frowning at the-boy-who-lived.

"Well then he lied!"

"Why on Earth would he do that?" The girl next to her queried. The diminutive professor was popular with every house.

"Because... I don't know?! But Harry must be Dark! He's in Slytherin! Maybe he used the Imperius curse on Flitwick or something!"

"No he's not!" The third member of that group snapped angrily at Thomas. Katie Bell was very... fond of Harry, and was known to be defensive of the older Slytherin. "He's nice." She stated. As she turned to that side of the room, her eyes met curious emerald ones, she gave a quiet shriek, and she ducked her head. The other two quiddich girls chuckled at their younger friend's reaction, as her face turned bright red, and shared a knowing grin.

"And we all know you're not at all biased, don't we Katie?" Fred commented, amused.

"Shut up!" She exclaimed, quietly, again.

"How do you expect to play against Slytherin if you can't even look at Potter?" A stern looking 5th year asked, sounding annoyed.

"Leave her alone, Wood." Angelina said, smirking. "We'll work with her. Harry'll like her more if he sees she can give him a challenge, after all." The dark skinned girl didn't miss the determined expression Katie adopted at this statement. "Focus on finding a seeker." The team really did need to find an excellent seeker. Else Slytherin would win yet again.

As the deserts appeared in front of Harry, he met the eyes of one of his friends, as he preferred to call them. They were all treated like family by the Greengrasses, but he definitely didn't think of them as sisters. Caroline was previously glaring at the girls in the hall. Of course she and the others had noticed Harry's growth over the summer, as was more common in Magucals given their earlier majority, and were certainly not going to complain, but these... these harlots had no right to eye him like he was a piece of meat. That was their job... Wait, what? No, what she meant was that it was their job to keep these bitches away from the male friend of their group.

"What's wrong?" Jasmine questioned her fellow Ravenclaw, seeing her face redden drastically at her own train of thought.

"N-Nothing." Caroline stated a little too fast.

"Really?" Jasmine asked with a smirk. "So did I just miss the massive suntan that you have?" Caroline dipped her head, focusing on the chocolate cake on her plate.

The other Ravenclaw went back to glowering at any girl who's gaze lingered on the 3rd year Slytherin.

-()()()()-

In the dead of night, Harry Potter snuck back into the boy's corridor, having finished his job for the night. He plucked the splinter out of his nails and thanked whatever deity there may be that his core had expanded over the summer, else he couldn't have given the defences he did today without dropping like a sack of bricks in the middle of the corridor. This was the most important year for it after all; and that was the reason he had exhausted himself so thoroughly. That had been put to rest from now on.

-(_)(_)(_)-

"It usually happens on the second night, doesn't it?" Jasmine asked nervously as she and Caroline were let into the Slytherin common room, arms full of food from the kitchen. It was just after 10:30am. The girls had let Harry sleep in some. Though far from the amount he would like.

"That's right." Daphne frowned while Tracy looked rather worried.

"Daph?" She murmured to her, arguably, closest friend.

"Yeah, Trace?" She replied quietly too.

"Do you think Harry will let us sleep with him tonight?" Daphne raised an eyebrow and Tracy's cheeks coloured slightly. "Sleep in his room tonight?"

"I'm sure he would, Tracy. But I've got a better plan than that." The blonde had a devious, and sadistic, smirk on her face. One that promised pain.

"Are you going to tell us? Or keep us in suspense?" Jasmine questioned.

Daphne responded with a grin to her rainbow haired friend.

"Think about the new trick that Harry showed us last week." The other girls looked slightly uneasy until they remembered what they were discussing. The bastards deserved whatever they got.

"Which one?" Astoria pondered aloud. She hadn't doubted her sister's plan at all.

"Hmm. Good question. I say we leave that choice up to Harry."

They crossed the underground common room and up into the third year male dorms. At the end of the hallway, there was a single door that 4 of the girls had visited quite regularly over the past 2 years. Not for any funny business, just to see Harry. The door was made of dark, mahogany wood. If you really looked, you could see odd symbols painted onto it in dark red/black liquid. The front most girl, being Caroline, knocked loudly on his door.

"Hey, girls." Harry answered with a yawn, as the door swung open. His eyelids were drooping as he looked at the girls, stretching as he yawned. Unfortunately this just highlighted the absence of a shirt on his upper body. The girls, between the heating of their faces, again noted the single symbol on etched into his chest; mid point between his pectorals. An eye that was inverse; black sclera with white irises and pupils. He told them that that one hid the others. Whatever that meant. "What's up?" He asked with a sleepy, half-hearted smile, not noticing the red faces and the fact that their gazes certainly weren't on his face.

"Uh, yeah." Daphne was the first to succeed in fighting the blush and her face only remained slightly pink. "We brought you some breakfast. Why are you so tired?" Harry frowned.

"Did I not mention?" The girls all looked slightly baffled and/or annoyed, and shook their heads.

"Oh. I warded the rooms last night."

"What rooms?"

"The female ones." The girls frowned at this. They didn't like the implication; being that he would have exhausted his reserves in the process. "I put some specific runes on your room so I can catch them, but I dislike the practise as a whole."

"Oh..." Daphne was disappointed in the preventative measures. Not that she wanted that to happen to anyone, she had just been looking forward to the plan she'd had.

"Are you okay? You sound upset." Harry tilted his head to the side, confused at the reaction his friend had.

"There was just something that I was going to ask you to do." She shrugged, voice one of misery. Caroline shook her head, amused; the guys tonight were in for a shock.

-(_)()(_)-

Marcus Flint, Jordan Scour and Edward Coulridge were taking the Malfoy heir with them on tonight's adventure. Tracy Davis and Daphne Greengrass had many suitors, but these three were the ones who won this right. All of them wore sinister grins, anticipating their fun.

Had they been paying more attention, had it been farlighter, and had they been smarter, the 4 may have noticed the trap that they walked past, the small runes outlining the entrance to the corridor. Not that anyone would notice the effects anytime soon. The perpetrators would realise within the week, most likely; though they'd refuse to tell anyone for quite some time. Embarrassing as it would be to tell their peers, and considering the Hogwarts grape vine that seemed to find out anything humiliating and/or amusing.

Flint and the others had an invisible mark also on their forehead, one that read "DG & TD". The fools had failed to act in a Slytherin manner, and so had a Lion on their lower backs, too. That one was very visible. Those two, and one more that they'd be sure never to forget, would be the only effects to come into play for this room. Because, for what happened next, the three had to be able to flee.

Scour attempted to kick open the door, which should have worked. In this case, it was like kicking a concrete wall.

"Fuck!" He cursed as he held his toes, hopping on the other foot.

"Idiot." Coulridge commented, twisting the handle and opening the door normally. The room was dark, but even so, they quickly noticed that the beds were empty.

"What the- Where are those sluts?"

"Probably with Potter." Flint growled out.

"Well then, let's go get Potter!" Malfoy exclaimed, not knowing the reputation Harry Potter had. "I bet he's pathetic just like his brother!"

"Uh-uh. No way." Coulridge replied. "This is bad enough. I bet he's gonna know that we were the ones here anyway. I ain't him a free pass to use one of his freaky curses on us!" He was waving his hands in surrender.

"He's right." Flint said through gritted teeth. "Let's just move on to another room." He made to go to the room across the hall.

"T-Too l-late." Scour stammered. The others turned to him, intending to ask what he meant, but saw a pair of emerald orbs floating in mid air. The green eyes glowed slightly as they began to approach the 4.

"What The Fu-" A 700lb jet black cat slammed into Coulridge's chest, and the 6th year felt something snap as he was thrown back into the wall.

"Merlin!" In front of the three still conscious Slytherins, there was a large, though not fully grown, massive and shaggy big cat, with fangs associated with the prehistoric predator; suggesting this was the type, facing them, fangs bared.

The Sabre Tooth prowled forward, to the blonde first year, and let out a chilling growl, the fact that the cat's head was above the boy's to look down on him showed the massive size. The serious muscles visible even through it's coat hinted at the strength. It would be quite near the height of Flint, who was very tall for a sixth year. The smell of urine spread through the corridor.

The Sabretooth Cat roared, and Malfoy felt his bones rattle. The blonde boy's eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell to the ground. The other two present legged it away from the apex predator.

The black feline stalked after the pair, growling a low rumble all the while, with his teeth bared. As they reached the common room, Flint and Coulridge glanced back to see the monstrous animal barrelling towards them. Reaching half-way through the small hall, Harry leapt at the pair, sailing through the air, over the furniture between him and his prey, and slamming into Coulridge. Had his claws been out, the boy would have been eviscerated. As it was, he hadn't had them out at any point as he hunted tonight.

Marcus Flint was frozen. He couldn't escape this creature; even his tiny brain comprehended that. Now that he saw it up close, it appeared to have some Siberian Tiger in it, too. He already knew this thing was fearsome. The big cat was truly magnificent. Had it been Hagrid, he would have loved to meet the feline. Flint? Not so much.

The Sabretooth was built to slaughter game and beasts much larger than the quiddich captain.

Fortunately for Flint, Slytherin would be excluded from the upcoming quidditch match were their captain to be in the hospital wing. And, so, the Emerald eyed animal just let out an almighty roar, sending him into an unnatural slumber in a pile of pungent liquid. The cat looked at him with disdain and slinked to the third floor boys' corridor.

-()()-

That morning was very interesting in the Slytherin. And it was only morning in the technical term.

At 2:30am the Slytherins heard a fearsome roar.

They slowly proceeded to the Common room, intending to investigate what was going on; slightly Gryffindor-ish of them, but they had curiosity nonetheless.

The sight they beheld when they left their dorm rooms was surprising to say the least. Particularly for the third-year girls. They, as soon as they left their rooms, were struck by the smell of Urine. Once the lights were turned on, they were greeted with an explanation of the smell. Or, at least, the beginnings of an explanation.

A blonde first year was lying in the centre of a wet patch in the hall, outside the only already open door.

"What did Daphne do now?" She was known to be very scary. It was feasible for the girl to make the younger student faint. Though pissing himself was a bit of an overreaction.

"I guess they wanted the favour of our new prince." The more intelligent of the three girls pointed to the slumped 5th year collapsed against one wall, and then to the piss covered 1st year..

"Pigs. But why haven't they... disturbed us yet?" Each girl had been awake all night; waiting to defend themselves. The odd noises had warned them not to come out until now, though.

They ventured to the common room.

"Again?" Was this all the rave or something? Another Slytherin was lying in urine, and one lying unconscious in a heap.

The others came into the common room, the first years looked shocked out of their skulls; except for one of them. A small blonde girl looked amused at the broken/humiliated forms lying on the floor. Two fat first years were looking around confused. What were they supposed to do? Their leader was missing.

"Um... why are there older students tied up outside our rooms?" Bulstrode questioned those in front of the group.

"Tied up?" A 4th year girl questioned, holding hands with her girlfriend as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with the unoccupied limb.

At this point the final of the third year boys and girls entered together. Daphne Greengrass gave no heed to the looks she received from many a girl, Tracy blushed slightly at the implication of their looks, and Harry just ignored those giving him odd looks. Had any of them made a comment about the girls, that'd have been a different matter entirely.

Unlike everyone else present, Harry was wide awake. He hadn't been woken by this, and was used to a nocturnal pattern.

"Yep!" Astoria proclaimed. "The dumb-asses are all bound by rope and stuck to a wall." The others were shocked at the audacity of the girl. Was she looking to be tortured. Only 3 understood why she was plenty brave enough to insult her 'betters'.

-(_)-

The three youngest professors were discussing their new students, a practise they engaged in more often than the students would realise. It ordinarily focussed on the third years, with some mention of any younger students that struck Aurora Sinistra as promising. Today, though, it was largely focused on a single student. And the work that he had handed in.

"It isn't possible." Bethesda Babbling commented.

"I agree. How much teaching must he have had?" Septima Vector nodded along.

"I told you he'd be good." Aurora Sinistra said smugly. Sinistra had seen his skill in her own class, and had been certain that Harry would have an affinity for Runes and Arithmancy, too.

While his Arithmancy wasn't quite as perfect; the theory being slightly oddly explained, he seemed to be as near an expert in Runes as was physically possible. Well, physically possible had one lived for several centuries devoted to the craft. Babbling had told them the story of him demonstrating his practical abilities. It was an amazing sight; more than she had thought possible. Runes ordinarily could only be used for warding and enchantments. He could, also, do that. But he'd demonstrated several abilities Babbling hadn't thought possible.

Carving an unfamiliar rune into a chair, the sitting apparatus had floated into the air. He carved '6ft' next to it, and that was how high it levitated. It hovered that far from the floor even now, as the trio could see from their positions in the classroom.

When she asked him to explain how he did it, Harry had given her a blank look and shrugged. He had apparently memorized every theory that wizards had concerning runic magic, but just said that he knew what to do when she wanted to learn more about the subject. It frustrated the Professor, and she had studied the magic around the chair for the entire afternoon. No progress was made. Nor had these two been able to help.

That demonstration would be enough to pass the OWLs in both Arithmancy and Runes, as they were so closely intertwined, with flying colours; the ability to do it showed Harry at least deserved an Outstanding OWL in the subject. Probably a NEWT too. And, if he made a high level ward; which they were sure he could based on the proficiency he had shown, he would secure an O in the 7th year exam as well. That was the ultimate goal of both lessons, after all.

"This is unnaturally good." Babbling smiled as she said so, thinking of the future of and finding herself jealous of the teachers that may have been able to butter Harry Potter up, and snap him up as an apprentice after school. They could lay claim to whatever career he went onto in the future.

"It sucks that we have nothing to teach him, doesn't it?" The boy was a prodigy, after all. But having him in their classes would simply cheat him out of the lessons in Care of Magical Creatures, Divination or Muggle studies; whichever he chose to pursue.

"Yes, a real shame for you." Sinistra grinned at her friends. "My grades'll skyrocket soon enough."

Hope you enjoyed, please Favourite/Follow/Review

Chapter 3: Prologue Part 3

I don't own Harry Potter.

Please Favourite/Follow/Review.

Thomas Potter was unhappy. Very unhappy.

Nobody was giving him the respect he deserved.

Sure, a few of these people treated him with slight awe, since he had defeated the Dark Lord. But only a small number of the population was treating him correctly.

He believed himself to be king of the school, yet none of these fools understood that. None realised that he wouldrule this place. Then he would show his upstart brother.

Even the professors had the nerve to compare the two. As tough Harry could possibly hope to match the superior abilities of Thomas. Even now, in his first year, he was on the Quiddich team.

But the teachers actually acted like his pathetic brother was as skilled as Thomas. What in Merlin's name was wrong with them? Were they idiots?

Thomas Potter was the Boy-who-lived. His brother was Nothing.

That was the train of thought he had had as he approached the 4 girls that Harry apparently was close to that morning. That was what motivated him to tell them just how pathetic his brother was. That he wasn't worth their time. And that they would be better off to stick with Thomas himself.

And that was why he was now unconscious in the hospital wing.

In Madam Pomphrey's clinic; it did not matter that the arrogant boy was the boy-who-lived. In fact, she was upset to hear what he said about her favourite student. Not that that had anything to do with her prioritization. No, there just happened to be far more serious cases in her ward that she needed to take care of first.

Two Slytherin boys had injuries that suggested being stepped on by Hagrid, while another two had fainted from sheer panic.

The hexes on Thomas Potter were not serious. Painful: Sure. But not serious. And so she let him stew in his mistake.

It went against everything that the matron usually practised, but today she was glad to see these 4 in the wing. Usually, it would be a flood of crying 1st years and potentially a few traumatised 3rd year girls. She had been betting on the elder Greengrass and Davis, at the very least, coming in today. Poppy was far from stupid. She was certain that Harry had done something to these 4 because he had known that the boys had been intending to take the two. Though she did wonder what exactly he had done to give these injuries. The shattered ribs required at least a few days in the wing, and the dizziness could have meant concussions. She wasn't inclined to let any of them out before the day after at the very least. Maybe the others would learn a lesson from this group's fate.

-(_)-

Hermione Granger was having the worst day in her young life.

She had been even before this; not only had she yet to find a single friend at her new school, but now the bullying had begun. Thomas Potter, and Ron Weasley had been mocking her after the Gryffindors' charms lesson, calling her a know-it-all and talking loudly about her having no friends. She knew she shouldn't have let it bother her so much. The pair of them were horrible people, and gradually wearing down the popularity that came with Thomas' title. People, apparently, had expected him to come and be a new version of the elder Potter. They had all quickly been disappointed by the arrogance the boy-who-lived displayed.

Even so, it reminded Hermione of the bullying she had endured to throughout her life so far; something that stung badly enough that she had retreated to the 4th floor bathrooms to cry her eyes out.

Now, that horror had escalated by far.

The 11 year old girl was frozen, staring up at the massive, lumbering grey figure that was swinging its club back and forth in a half-menacing half-moronic manner. What was she supposed to do? A first year knew next to nothing to combat the troll in front of the bookworm.

Hermione had a few ideas. Could she levitate the club away from its owner? Yes, but that wouldn't counter the fact that the towering humanoid was perfectly capable of killing her without his weapon. She assumed it was a he, anyway. She may well be wrong, but it struck her as more masculine than feminine. What on earth was a first year supposed to do against a full grown mountain troll?

The idiotic gigantic thing thudded along closer to the scared girl, and Hermione, in one of her less intelligent moments, retreated under a sink to escape, and began praying for somebody to save her. Her bravery, that brought her into Gryffindor, left her as she realised nobody knew she was here, and Hermione closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around her head in a feeble effort to protect herself from the troll's wrath.

As a result, the first year missed her rescue.

Harry had checked his map; the one he made simply to prove he could, after his cowardly professor had ran into the Great Hall, yelled about the troll, and promptly feinted. The troll was simply referred to as 'troll' on the map, an odd fact that he filed away for future reference, and he saw that it was not, in fact, in the dungeon. It was moving slowly through the 4th floor. Right towards a dot called Hermione Granger.

Harry moved very quickly through the school. Maybe not the most Slytherin thing for him to do, but the Hat hadtold him that he'd fit in any of the houses. He could be forgiven for acting in a Gryffindor-ish manner every once in a while. Ugh, Daphne was going to chew him out when she found out about this.

He stepped through the doorway, wand at the ready, and cast an incendio at the troll in front of him. The thing's loincloth set alight in an instant, and it dropped it's club, batting stupidly at the burning cloth.

Harry stabbed his wand at the dropped club, and it morphed into a steel spike. A levitation charm, combined with an altered banishing one, quickly resulted in the grey skinned creature dropping to the floor with an echoing thud.

Hermione screamed. That thud equalled her doom, surely that must be the sound of her being struck by the club-of-doom.

"Please be quiet." A voice told her. "The danger has passed."

"Wh-what? When did you get here?" She turned a shocked gaze onto her saviour. "What one Earth happened to the troll?!"

"It got stabbed by a large, metal spike." He said, matter-of-factly, while giving her a look that screamed 'I thought you were smart'.

"I saw that! I mean how did it get stabbed by a metal spike?!"

"I transfigured the club into a spike, the charmed it to stab the troll."

Hermione sat there, gaping at the older boy like a goldfish, as the sound of footsteps reached her ears from outside of the bathroom.

"Mr Potter! What in Merlin's name..." Mcgonagall asked, shocked at the scene in front of her, before a hint of pride leaked into her features as she realised what one of her favourite students had done. Aside from the frown at his name, his response was cordial as he answered her incomplete question.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I heard mention from one of the first year girls that Hermione had been missing and that they had seen her heading here. I assumed that the troll would still be in the dungeon, and that it was more important for the teachers to head down in order to contain it. I though it would be best for me to fetch her myself." He spoke, looking down as if in shame.

"I don't see any reason for you to apologize, Potter." Severus Snape interjected, sharing his house member's dislike of the name. "You have saved this first year's life. I believe you deserve, shall we say 60 points, for helping a Lion, through no obligation of your own. You easily could have simply fled, and tried to find a teacher. By that time, the girl would have been killed."

"Agreed. Ms Granger, would you please tell us why you were up here?" McGonagall questioned, a rare kindness outweighing the reprimand that was still evident in her tone.

"I- Nothing, Professor. I was just being stupid." Her face reddened.

"My brother looked rather guilty, Professor." Harry commented. Professor Mcgonagall frowned at the comment, and turned to the buck-toothed girl.

"I don't..." She relented after the stern expression of her head of house. "Yes, Professor. He and Ron were insulting me about having no friends."

"Thank you for telling me, Miss Granger. I'll make sure they receive the necessary punishment once we arrive back at Gryffindor tower."

-()-

Marcus Flint was not enjoying himself. His Quiddich team was mocking him very persistently about his fate the month before. Now, his bloody chaser was taking allthe attention.

"And Potter scores again." Jordan commented in his amplified voice, frustration obvious. "C'mon Fred, George! Hit him!"

"Jordan!"

"What do you think we're trying to do?!" One of the twins yelled back at their best friend.

"Sorry Professor!" Jordan replied to the earlier berating.

"Wood passes to Johnson, and To Spinnet, Damn it! Potter intercepts! Potter passes to Pucey, and Pucey back to Potter! Potter shoots! Slytherin score." He finished minus enthusiasm as his house team was losing rather badly.

The score was now 110-30 in favour of Slytherin. And that was with the efforts of the Weasley twins. The Gryffindor team as a whole was the best team in the school, Harry knew, but the elder Potter made all the difference.

"To Bell, who passes to Johnson, and to Spinnet! Back to Johnson, to Spinnet, to Bell! Oh! And Flint and Pucey both taken out by savage Bludgers from the Weasleys! Quaffle back to Bell! What are you doing, Katie?! Bell fumbles and drops the Quaffle. Potter catches! Potter scores!"

20 minutes later, the scores were up to 130-70 after Bletchley was thrown into his goals by a bludger from Fred, and Pucey had yet to recover from his earlier fall. The Slytherin team was massively disadvantaged. Especially since Flint was being deliberately annoying to Harry and trying to do everything himself.

-()-

Hermione Granger had no idea why she felt the need to do this. Thomas was horrible to her, outweighing even his friend Ron in the insults he threw her way just because she outshined him in class. The boy didn't deserve her help, that was for sure. He wouldn't have gotten it, in fact, had Hermione not wanted to see Harry play.

But her parents had always raised her right. How on Earth could she let him get injured, or worse killed, just because she didn't like the boy? What if she got sent home after he fell from the broom? Surely they would shut the school down after a death of one of the students. Okay, maybe she had an idea why she was saving the-boy-who-lived, but she was unsure if she really should.

And so she snuck through the stands, heading towards Snape, with the intent to stop his jinx before this escalated. The first year girl's fire spread quickly on the greasy robes, and Snape leapt to his feet.

-()-

"And what's this?! What's going on?!" Thomas Potter's broom tried to buck him off. Repeatedly. Harry watched for a little while, right until he realised he had no interest in the outcome. The Weasley twins were going to catch him should the annoyance fall. "Oh, come on! Potter scores!" He exclaimed as though it was a curse. A fire appeared in the teacher's stand, Thomas clambered back onto his broom and the match resumed.

As Katie Bell charged toward the Slytherin hoops again, Harry appeared next to her, trying to take the ball from her. Oddly, the chaser thought the best way to calm her nerves regarding him was to close her eyes. And so she did.

A bludger from one of the Slytherin caught the nose of her broom, and she lost all control, beginning a rapid descent.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the seekers in a race.

Thomas Potter was going to make it. He was going to get the snitch. Of course he would, he had been trained since he was old enough to walk by James Potter. The best player Hogwarts had ever seen.

Higgs was bigger and slower, Thomas pulled away and stretched out his hand, about to grasp the golden ball... and a Quaffle clocked him on the head, knocking the seeker off course.

"And Potter saves Bell! Thank Merlin!" The girl would certainly have been badly injured. "Umm... is that a foul?" He questioned as the Quaffle caught the Gryffindor seeker. Higgs caught the snitch and Hooch blew her whistle in a long, sharp blast. "Slytherin wins!" About half the crowd cheered for the outcome.

Katie Bell was red, extremely so, as Harry and she landed. He had pulled her onto his broom and to stop the balance being thrown off, Harry had held her close. She wasn't complaining, but her curtain of hair didn't quite stop the crowd from seeing the obvious blush.

Harry dismounted the broom and asked Katie.

"Are you injured?" She was really red, and he wasn't sure what that meant.

"Uh n-no. I'm fine." She squeaked out.

"Good." Harry commented. "This has happened twice in two years." Harry cocked his head. "It seems like an odd coincidence, and you are a very capable flyer?"

"No!" She yelped in a panicked manner. Did he really think that? Harry chuckled at her embarrassment. "It was an accident!" She assumed he was accusing her of falling on purpose.

"Okay." He said, with a nod, as he turned and headed to the rest of his team, slapping Higgs on the back in congratulations and joining them in the subtle demonstrations of their glee at defeating Gryffindor.

As Katie headed back over to her own team, they all appeared glad that she had not been hurt. Excluding Thomas who looked angry at his defeat, and Wood who appeared conflicted. The captain had his gaze locked on the Slytherin Chaser. He was angry at him for costing Gryffindor the game, but glad he had been there to help the youngest chaser. The effect was humorous as both sides of his face twitched rapidly, unsure of what expression to settle upon.

"Who does that Bastard think he is?!" Thomas Potter began the anticipated rant.

-()()()-

The next morning, Harry was pleasantly surprised as a red letter burst into life in front of his brother. He and his ginger friend had, evidently, been pranked by the twins before breakfast as Thomas' skin was a bright pink and Ronald's was a bright orange.

"THOMAS LILIAN POTTER!" The-boy-who-lived had certainly gotten the short straw in regards to their middle names. Why they felt the need to use bother parents names, Harry did not know.

"HOW DARE YOU BULLY THAT POOR GIRL?! YOU NEARLY GOT HER KILLED! WE HAVE RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THIS! EVEN YOUR FATHER WASN'T THIS ARROGANT AT YOUR AGE! IF IT HAD NOT BEEN FOR YOUR BROTHER, YOU WOULD HAVE HER BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS, AND WE WOULD BE HORRIFIED WITH YOUR ACTIONS?!" Harry scowled at the reference to him. "IF THIS EVER HAPPENS AGAIN, WE WILL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME! YOUR FATHER IS HORRIFIED WITH YOUR BEHAVIOR, HE BLAMES HIMSELF FOR THE WAY YOU ARE ACTING, BE GLAD THAT 3 MONTHS OF DETENTION IS ALL YOU ARE GETTING!"

Other than the slight annoyance at his mother, Harry was pleased by that scene. His brother, on the other hand, was fuming.

-()()()-

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" Was the greeting that Harry received as he opened his door on the day after Christmas Eve.

"Bah!" He cursed as he jumped back, heart racing. "Merlin, I just woke up. Don't do that." He complained.

"Don't you ever wear a shirt, Harry?" Daphne asked, as coolly as could be expected. Once more, Harry had no idea the effect that he had on the girls as he stood there in only a pair of sweatpants.

"Not while I'm sleeping." Harry responded, stepping away from the door. "Please, come in." Obviously, that was what they wanted, and Harry did not feel the need to deny them.

The girls, yet again, were shocked by the changes and moderations Harry had made to his room. It was about half the size of either house's common room; showing his abilities in charms. A large bed was resting against the far wall, a desk on another and a large chest to the side of that. He also had a couch large enough to seat 5 people comfortably, and a television that he had carved runes into the side of, allowing it to work perfectly even in the magic rich environment of Hogwarts.

"So, how did you all meet up before 7am?" He checked the clock, before asking, looking particularly at the two Ravenclaws.

"We arranged it yesterday." Tracy answered with a smile. "We agreed that it'd be best to surprise you to exchange gifts, and whe better to surprise you than when you're asleep?!"

"I'd rather you did it during the day, personally," Harry remarked. "But that's mainly 'cause I only fell asleep a couple of hours ago."

"Staying up so late isn't healthy, Harry." Caroline lightly berated.

"It's fine when you don't get woken up at 7 in the morning. Cats are quite often nocturnal." Harry corrected, as he sat down on the edge of his bed. "Is exchanging gifts really exciting enough to need to do it at this ungodly hour?"

"Of course! Just because you're a Grinch doesn't mean that the rest of us have to be!" Jasmine replied to this one. So many people in the conversation was difficult for Harry to deal with so early in the morning. "Christmas is fun!"

"I'm not a Grinch, I just don't understand Christmas. It holds no significance to me."

-_-_-()()-_-_-

'Moron.' Harry commented, silently. The three of these firsties were actually dumb enough to come down here on their own. Against a Professor, even one who was as pathetic as Quirrell, they stood no chance. Not to mention the fact that Harry was sure they thought Snape had been the teacher responsible. If Snape had wanted them dead, a simple Sectumsempra would more than likely deal with the trio in a single blow. Now, Thomas Potter was down here on his own.

Luckily, Harry had overheard them. Now, he was hidden under the cloak he had enchanted as an invisibility covering. Unluckily, Harry wasn't confident that he'd beat the Death Eater in front of him in this form. The cat would be capable if he had the element of surprise, but in the time it took to change, Harry would be hit with the killing curse. He wasn't going to die for his arrogant younger sibling. Nor to protect the fake stone. Why would the Flamels let Dumbledore put the real on in his little trap/test?

Oh. Looked like his brother was saved, then. Harry saw the conversation end as Quirrell started speaking to himself. The defence Professor raised his hands and began removing the turban from his head. Harry's trap was triggered.

As Quirrell had walked through the doorway, a series of runes had transferred onto his person, complete with a trigger of removing his head gear.

The first activated as a disturbing face was revealed. The material twisted, and wrapped around it's master's throat. The bald man scratched wildly at the cloth, and the other end of the turban curled around his wrists, trapping them and preventing any other action from the limbs.

"What are you doing, you little- ARGH!" He was cut off by his throat constricting further, before the robes he was wearing jumped up, curling around his head and blocking his view. The collar tightened, especially.

The collar started burning, and set itself on fire, unnaturally hot. The skin and flesh melted, and his throat was damaged irreparably. He began making strangling noises, before the robe fell back down, and the turban fell to the floor along with it.

Quirrell's face turned purple, and he dropped to his knees, hands clawing at his throat as he struggled to breath. Harry vanished through the nearest wall, no longer caring, as Thomas Potter watched one of his teachers die, utterly confused.

It irritated Harry greatly that the boy-who-lived later took credit for saving the 'precious artefact', and then was awarded by the headmaster just enough points to rob Slytherin of their favouritism; had Harry known that would happen, he'd of recorded the event, and stopped the little bugger from taking credit for his work. Of course, he couldn't of taken credit himself; Harry waspopular, of course, but even so he was still a Slytherin. A Slytherin killing a Professor, even one with Voldemort stuck in the back of his head would, instantly, be labelled as evil. Unlike the newly crowned golden boy of Gryffindor.

The applause was annoying as hell. At least when Ravenclaw beat them, they were gracious about it.

-()()-

"Harry, wake up. We're at the station." Tracy shook her friend lightly, watching unsurprised as his eyes shot open, and snapped onto her own.

5 more minutes." He closed his eyes again, after finding no threat.

"Potter." Daphne poked him in the side. "Get up."

"No." He groaned, leaning further into the wall. He liked sleep.

Jasmine, surprisingly, jabbed Harry in the stomach, and the teen shot up with a surprised grunt. The girls seized his arms to prevent him from floppin back onto the bench, and Harry relented.

"Fine, fine..."He stood and stretched, before making to wallk out of the cabin. "What are you waiting for?" The girls had not moved.

"Potter!" Daphne barked, just as Harry was about to leave. The ebony haired boy turned and found her stood there, arms crossed and tapping her foot.

"Trunks?" He asked. It was his own fault, for retrieving them every year hence. Plus, he could lighten them and shrink them legally; it made sense for him to fetch them.

"Trunks." Daphne confirmed. Her male friend easily removed them for the 4 girls, and tapped each, shrinking and lightening each without any of the pesky repercussions that the others would get from using magic outside of school, due to the runes he had drawn on the side of the leather of each.

"Y' don't have to be so rude about it." Harry remarked, as he walked out of the room again; not upset, just sleepy and in no mood to be barked at.

-()-

Adelaide Greengrass watched her self proclaimed son's retreating figure with a sad frown. Why he had to leave for half of each summer, she didn't quite understand, but at least she was certain that he'd be safe. Her girls were reacting in a similar way, though each of them had a slight glare marring their pretty features as they were angry with each other.

It was easy for Lady Greengrass to see why they were upset. It'd be difficult for her husband, sure, but she saw the competitive expression that Caroline, Tracy and Daphne shared as Jasmine kissed Harry on the cheek. Then, the four repeated her actions, each lingering slightly, and shot a scowl at their female friend. The start of a war between them was inevitable, Adelaide believed, even if Harry was wholly unaware of their crushes on him.

-(_)-(_)-

'It's strange for my brother to be so different from me. How can we be related yet share so few personality traits?' Yet again, Harry's shameful little brother had rushed into the danger head along. Now, how was he going to avoid having the little shit take credit for the work he was about to do?

A truth rune? That'd work, he supposed. And if Harry's little brother happened to get in trouble because he happened to blurt out something that was worthy of punishment, all the better.

Harry felt his body shift into another form just as he hissed "Open" at the doorway in Parseltongue, following Thomas' path into the chamber of secrets. The dank smell hit him in the damp hall and Harry cringed, his heightened senses made him more susceptible to the effects this had. As the segment of wall moved apart, Harry rushed through, taking the most recently developed animal he could use. A tiny bird, one that he himself knew to be the Peregrine Falcon, flew unnoticed into the air and observed the scene below, circling the statue and people beneath.

Harry watched as Thomas talked to the odd person with him. He was wearing a Slytherin uniform, but Harry definitely did not recognise the boy. In fact, he was shimmering slightly. Not a ghost, obviously, but perhaps something similar. The diary lying discarded on the floor certainly seemed significant to the Animagus. But his attention was quickly removed from the object when he heard the stranger hiss to the massive statue of Salazar Slytherin.

"Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the four!"

The mouth did, indeed, open. But no words escaped the cavern. In fact, what came out shouldn't have surprised Harry. A massive serpent slithered out of who-knows-where, and obeyed the command to attack that came forth from 'Tom Riddle'.

'Well, at least Thomas isn't a complete moron.' Harry thought as he scampered away from the Basilisk. Harry briefly contemplated letting his brother in blood just die, but decided he would have felt bad for leaving the little Weasley girl down here.

The Peregrine Falcon swooped downwards, arching toward the massive beast at 200mph, distracting the snake.

"Hah!" The young Voldemort laughed at the feeble attempt. "What do you think that such a minuscule creature could do to the king of snakes?!"

He was right in that assessment. The bird barely weighed 2lbs, it certainly wasn't built for this type of conflict. Luckily, that hadn't been the plan Harry had.

"Ignore the bird, focus on the boy! The boy is all that matters!" Riddle screamed at the snake. Apparently forgetting Parseltongue in his rush. As he finished, the young version of the Dark Lord watched as the bird turned in mid air, tucking it's wings into an even faster dive, approaching the 300mph mark. The teenager smirked at the idiocy.

That smirk vanished as the bird's body shifted. The black feathers became just as dark fur, and the body grew unreasonably. From 23 inches to 8ft. The prehistoric cat plummeted toward Slytherin's monster at the massive speed ad slammed into the snake. The thing weighed 800 odd pounds. A weight that was very useful when it crashed into the other predator in the room.

The snake was thrown off balance, with a very large cat latched onto it's face, long canines digging behind a vulnerable scale in the snake's forehead. With a frustrated growl, Harry managed to tear said scale loose. He bit into the vulnerable spot, and ripped it apart. The flesh tore from the skull underneath, and exposed the bone.

Pondering how he was to go about getting through the hard material; he couldn't get the angle to pierce it properly, after all, Harry spotted a glint of silver in a ratty, worn out hat.

Discounting the fact that he didn't know how the sword got there, the feline leapt, with the grace you would expect from a cat, over to the sorting hat, and shifted form again.

His mass decreased significantly, to less than 200lbs, but his body widened greatly, his length shortened to about 4ft, and his height increased slightly to 6ft 6. The wingspan of the Argentavis was truly amazing at 23 feet. Scooping up the sword of Gryffindor, the massive bird flew toward the snake, and changed to the tall-ish human form of Harry Potter, gripping the blade in his hands. With a swift motion, Harry plunged the goblin-made blade into the serpent's brain.

Thomas Potter wondered who this was; he couldn't see any real features other than the unsurprising obsidian hair. He hopped back, using the transferred grace from his forms, and flipped over, landing, once more, as the sabre-tooth black cat.

The snake flailed briefly, before it slowed, dropped heavily, and died. Turning, Harry ran at his brother, sheathed his claws, and batted him over the head. As tempting as it was to tear his throat out, that wouldn't be a good idea.

Turning back, Harry stood, stretching as he did so, and faced Tom Riddle.

"Voldemort?" Harry wondered. That's what it sounded like to him, and it would make sense for Voldemort to be the heir of Slytherin, from what Harry understood.

"I'm Lord Voldemort as he was at 16, yes." Riddle replied as Harry moved over toward the corpse of the Basilisk. He was interested in the origins of the teen that had put on such a show.

"Hm. Why Ginny Weasley? Could you not have bewitched an older, powerful student?" He shrugged at as he arched an eyebrow. "She's only twelve. Her core's nothing special."

"I would be inclined to agree with you. But one of my followers gave her the diary. Not on my orders, mind you." He growled out. "What are you doing." Harry wrenched a tooth out of the snake's mouth. Harry moved over to the diary quickly. "Wait!"

"She deserves life more than you do. Also, I'm not a fan of bigoted ideals." He knelt next to the diary and plunged the fang into the black cover. The boy, as well as the diary, screamed, and ink spurted from the torn pages.

"Hmm." Harry turned to the unconscious figures in the chamber. "Now how do I get you two out of here?"

-()-

It was time for the OWLs, and Harry was confident. Not due to arrogance, but due to indifference. He saw no reason to be overly concerned with the levels that he was rewarded by a Ministry official that he would never meet, and disliked the idea of getting stressed about his future anyway; he did not understand the people around him, cramming desperately with looks of anguish and, in the case of a few Ravenclaws, openly weeping.

Harry was prepared for the tests, he supposed that he was also smarter, and far better under pressure, than most of the students around him. That was the answer he had given when a few of his year mates had demanded to know why he was so calm. They had looked angry at that, for some reason.

Now, he was leant against a wall in the Entrance Hall waiting to be called in for a practical demonstration of Runes; he had given up the lessons after finding tuem insanely easy, but was not allowed to take the exams any earlier than this. He could take the runes and Arithmancy NEWT later in the summer, though, and that was something to be grateful for getting out of the way. He hoped it wasn't true that the practical only consisted of drawing and activating a single, low level ward or he'd end up showing everyone up.

As his name was called, Harry shrugged the thought away. He wasn't going to hinder himself, after all, and maybe the examiner would e somehow entertained by the demonstration from a higher-level teen.

-()-

James Potter looked far more sullen than he ever had in Sirius Black's memory. He wished he could be surprised about that reaction, but he was well aware of the cause. The two aurors were stationed at Hogwarts this year, in addition to the dementors released to prevent the rat and the psycho from infiltrating the grounds.

Pettigrew had turned into a rat in a fit of panic, and, in what could be considered a fit of genius from one so intellectually challenged, thought to free Bellatrix, figuring having her release on his record would help him to gain favour when, and if, he found his master.

It was theorised that they would try to take revenge on Thomas, and therefore the highest protection was given to their saviour.

But Thomas was not why the Lord Black's best friend was upset. No, that was his eldest. The OWL year student had ignored Lord Potter throughout the year. Not once responding to the calls of James. Nor Sirius, for that matter. Even Remus, who was one of the boy's teachers, was barely given the time of day.

However, that mattered little at the moment, since the two captain aurors had just checked the map, and found, to their horror, that Thomas and friends were fleeing for their lives.

Not from the Death Eaters, no. They were running from Remus.

"Moony! Stop!" James screamed at his childhood friend. Actually, that was quite effective. Not in that it stopped the werewolf, but in that it drew the attention from the fleeing trio and onto the pair of Animaguses.

"Get ready, James." The messy haired man nodded, and the two changed forms. They could match the wolf, most likely beat it, when put together. But they had to do that all while stopping it from getting any of the wizarding children. They were at a serious disadvantage.

And that disadvantage was why James was injured by their changed friend. The wolf bit down on his side as the Animagus threw himself in front of his idiot son.

Thomas Potter had done his best to 'help' the two by rushing back and attacking the werewolf. This kid really annoyed Sirius, but he had no choice in the matter as he attacked his friend wildly, trying desperately, and succeeding, to get his attention back onto the perceived threat.

The wolf pursued the dog through the grounds; obviously wanting desperately to kill the nuisance. Sirius Black now knew that he was screwed.

Completely and utterly screwed.

He led the werewolf into the woods; the most sensible idea he could come up with, to try to find something else for it to fight. He wasn't expecting the answer to his prayers to come sprinting out of the forest at him and his pursuer.

It was another wolf. Some kind of wolf, anyway.

Remus was massive compared to an average wolf, the same as next to every werewolf. In fact, Sirius was sure that Remus was large for a werewolf. But this wolf was bigger.

Definitely bigger.

And scarier.

The moonlight highlighted the raven furred wolf as it charged toward the dog-wolf pair, and Sirius leapt out of it's path, catching a glimpse of it colliding with the werewolf in front. The creature seemed just about fully grown, though maybe it would fill out in the shoulders some more, but the not quite adult creature was clearly winning the brawl. It and Remus both reared back onto their hind legs and tore at each other, but the larger wolf did much more damage as his razor sharp claws tore chunks from the other's body.

With a pathetic whimper, Moony turned and fled, instincts outweighing bloodlust as he headed into the forest at a quick pace.

The mystery wolf turned to face the downed dog that was still, barely, conscious, and let out a rumbling growl. Sirius scrambled to his feet, favouring his right side as his left had been torn into slightly in the first bout against Remus, and further aggravated by the running.

Grey eyes locked onto emerald, and the wolf turned, dismissively, and jogged into the forest.

-()()-

"James! I'm telling you, it was Lily! Lily saved me!"

"Padfoot, I've said before, Lily's form is a doe. It's definitely not a, in your words, big ass wolf!"

"It's possible to have more than one form, James! All the books say that!"

"And it's incredibly rare for someone to have more than one! They say that, too! Not to mention Lily discovering one just out of school, and the other now!" James Potter shook his head. "Besides, you said that the wolf was black. Lily's hair is red!"

This entire conversation took place in hushed, but urgent, tones at the head table. Luckily, the roar of conversation had hidden it from everyone but the headmaster sat next to Sirius, as a way to show the importance of the security the ministry provided.

Sirius' eyes drifted over the students, from Gryffindor, over the other houses, to Slytherin. There, he happened to meet the eyes of another emerald-eyed Potter, as opposed to the hazel both other males of the family had.

"Holy shit! It was Harry!" Sirius exclaimed, turning to his childhood friend with shock written on his features. That shock was quickly copied onto James' face, as the headmaster looked on with a knowing twinkle. Then, James grinned widely.

"Takin' after his old man!"

"Don't forget his Godfather, Prongs! His form's more similar to mine, after all!"

"Yeah." James snorted. "Just a better version!"

"Hey!" Sirius barked indignantly. "Snuffles is a chick magnet! His one, we need a name for him, by the way, would just scare them all off!"

"Whatever you say, Padfoot, whatever you say..."

The headmaster chuckled, as he wondered just what forms Harry Potter had. None were easy for him to recognise so far. Well, the small, and very speedy, falcon was easy enough, but none of the others had been turned up in his enquiries so far. Just how strong was the popular Slytherin, anyway? Dumbledore's eyes twinkled curiously.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Chapter 4: Quiddich World Cup

Here's an update, I was glad to receive so many follows and favourites, and the reviews too.

Just one thing; I'm happy to receive criticism, but please phrase it in a constructive way.

The first 3 chapters were basically just a prologue, so I've changed their names to reflect that.

People brought up Hermione being in the golden-trio; I've added to the Quidditch scene in the last chapter to explain.

I'll be using some flashbacks in later chapters, too, in order to give more detail to the story. I just wanted to get to the main body sooner rather than later.

I've used a couple of clichés in this chapter, sorry if that annoys anybody. It shouldn't take anything away from the chapter, the clichés, I believe, are clichés 'cause they're entertaining and useful.

I own nothing you recognise. I hope you enjoy

Please Follow/Favourite/Review.

The ground shook as a muggle group, sitting in a jeep in the middle of the African plains, heard their loocal tour guide let out a panicked yell, and called them to "Buckle your seatbelts!" as he stepped on the gas, driving away as fast as the heavy car could take them.

"Mommy, what's going on?" A little girl questioned, noticing the panic.

The girl's mother was about to answer that she wasn't sure, but that they were safe, when she was cut off before she began.

"Elephants!" The grey skinned mammals were in a stampede, running for their lives from something, and the group quickly became unsettled by the implication. What the hell were they running from?

A chilling howl rung across the plains, and the driver/tour guide began jabbering away into his hand held radio; the word that stood out, was "Ilimu".

The driver did not slow until they reached civilisation. Something had him terrified.

-()()()()()-

The girls clapped politely along with the crowd, as the group was sat in one of the top boxes; along with some important Bulgarian ministry workers and several enthusiastic Irishmen.

A 16 year old Harry Potter watched, with a cautious gaze, in case a fight broke out between the opposing Quidditch fans. The glares that were being shot at the the Irish by the Bulgarians were not inspiring confidence in him that they'd get out of this box without being obstructed by a vicious brawl.

The elder Greengrasses ushered the 4 out, just as the first punch was thrown, and Harry chuckled at the indignant yell, followed by a loud grunt of someone being hit. He stretched, from the lengthy time sitting motionless, and yawned widely.

As they walked down the stairs, and out of the stadium, the celebrations had, remarkably, already begun. The Irish were cheering, singing and, living up to their stereotype, getting as drunk as a cheerful crowd of skunks.

Not one of the Greengrass group was invested in the outcome, they were here because Andrew had been gifted with the seats, and it was an event worth seeing. Once every 4 years was certainly a worthwhile phenomenon after all; and the family and the surrogate children were fond of Quidditch in general.

They entered the tent that was shared between the entire group, and sat down to discuss the match, far more reserved than the red headed family that was, at the same time, sitting down in a wave of chaos, with everyone chattering over each other as the youngest male revered Krum.

-)(_)(-

Later on that night, Harry Potter woke with a start, as he heard panicked screams. His superior senses catching them before anyone else in the tent.

"Andrew!" He yelled out as he rushed into the living area, dressed only in silk pyjama bottoms and a dragon hide wand-holster.

7 sleepy people emerged as his voice rang through the tent.

"Harry? What is it?" Andrew asked his charge. He had woken more fully than the others by this point, knowing that Harry must have a good reason for calling for him in the middle of the night.

"People are screaming."

"Are you sure it's not just a celebration?"

"Certain. They're terrified." He grunted in response. There was no doubt about the familiar noises and what they meant.

"Okay. Take the girls and head for the woods." His charge gritted his teeth at that. "We'll," He gestured to himself and his wife, "Go give any assistance that they need." His wife nodded and went about dressing properly for what was to come.

"You know I can help, Andrew."

"You're under-age, Harry. I need you to take the girls, and get them to safety." He said, sternly. After a brief staring contest, Harry relented and turned to the girls.

"C'mon. We need to go, preferably before they get here." He would gladly fight himself, but Harry would be damned if he'd let one of them get hurt because of his own bloodlust. "You all got your wands?"

"Yes." Was chorused 5 times, each had had that necessity drilled into their heads over the years, Andrew having taught them never to go anywhere without the weapon of choice for wizards, and Harry nodded; taking charge of their little group.

"Let's get going then; leave anything else." Daphne took Astoria's hand as they headed to the exit. "Shit!" Harry cursed suddenly. "Andrew, Adelaide, they're in the camp site!" He called to the two in their bedrooms.

Harry glanced around the room, and smiled as he saw the deck of cards he had been... editing the night before sat on a table near the tent-flap. He grabbed them, undid the rubbed band around them, and moved to the exit again.

"Get going! Do not stop, you here me?" Lord Greengrass called back. There were very few people Harry would take an order from; but Andrew had more of his respect than just about anybody else. Meaning he'd do his best to obey.

"Sure." Harry confirmed, fully intending to do as he was told.

The 6 under-age magical folk exited the tent quickly, and set off through the tents, ignoring the flashes of light in the distance as they did so. As they ran through, they realised just how far the tent was from the woodland, and fear crept up on a few of them. Well, on 5 of them.

They moved through a dense grouping of tents, Harry leading, and did what they could to maintain their speed as they could as they were slightly obstructed. As they emerged, the group heard a trio of dlurred shouts directed at them.

"Hey, prrretty llittle things! Stop rrr-right the-re!"

"Llook at thhhose swweet lookkin' gals!"

"We're gonnnna hhave sso-me fun!"

The group turned and saw 3 cloaked figures, with white Death Eater masks showing just barely.

All three were slightly slurred from alcohol, but the three still had the ability to cast a reducto at the ground in front of the 6.

"You..." He slurred, gesturing at Harry. "Get lost, we don't swing that way." The other two had decided to pre-emptively get undressed, apparently, as they were struggling to remove their robes while still wearing the masks. Morons.

"Disgusting." Harry stated, in a bored tone that barely covered the hate he felt. "If I felt inclined, I would simply inform you that 2 of these girls are daughters of a noble house, the other 3 are protected by it, and all 5 have another's heir that pledges their protection, as well. I do not feel inclined to let you go, though. If you hold still, this will be quicker. Please don't hold still." The three seemed to have trouble managing to understand what he was saying, but the two with their heads covered by cloaks stopped struggling, comprehending that this would likely end badly. If they were caught, they'd be sent to Askaban for sure.

Harry drew the deck of playing cards and picked the three from the top. He threw the first at the foremost Death Eater, who was struggling to find a response to the insults, and had begun to raise his wand in response. The card connected to the man's shoulder, and a rune glowed sapphire on the face of the paper.

The man let out a shriek of pain as an invisible sword sliced through his upper arm, and the limb fell twitching to the ground. He tilted his head as though staring at the now disconnected appendage, and promptly passed out.

The next man was struck in the chest by the card Harry tossed at him, and felt a dozen bludgers slam into his midsection, before he was sent into unconsciousness along with his buddy. The last card seemed to miss, striking the ground at the remaining Death Eater's feet instead. Then, however, an earth-made chain extended from the ground, and wrapped quickly around his midsection, crushing his ribs and maintaining it's grip as the man fell, twitching, to the ground. Harry waited, but the Death Eaters did not stand again.

"C'mon." Harry started off again, and the girls followed him with slightly shocked, though ultimately satisfied, expressions on their faces. Harry gave no reaction to indicate he had just killed, or most likely killed, three men.

Harry led the group once again, this time with a single card ready in his hands as he anticipated another fight coming soon. An unfounded instinct, but one that he trusted after years of relying on it. As it turns out, he was correct.

The group was nearing their goal, the wooded area, when they heard a duo of pain-filled, female, screams and a yell of anger. The 6 rounded a tent and entered into a clearing, and Harry turned as he heard Caroline murmer.

"Fleur... Gabby..."

In front of them, was a group of 13 Death Eaters, each with their wands drawn and once more in varying states of dress, surrounding a trio of girls, while a pair of them was restraining a man who was in a partial body bind, with the spell being applied repeatedly in order to avoid him escaping, at the same time. Harry felt his magic flare as he saw the fact that the girls had been seemingly silenced, and a silver haired girl was curled around what seemed to be her little sister, based on the resemblance, writhing in agony as a masked man held her under the Cruciatus curse. The teenage girl's mother was in a similar situation off to the side, trying to throw the curse off in order to help her daughters.

Harry reacted after he saw another, very nearly naked, 'Eater send a weak cutting charm at the elder sister, tearing her clothes off as he did so, and begin an approach to her.

"I'm 'aving 'er first. You can take ze ozzers if you want, just keep Delacour facing zees way. I want 'im to watch."The man said in heavily accented English, revealing that he was from France; explaining that he likely had a grudge with the family personally.

The crowd did not notice the six watching, as Harry turned to the others, locking eyes with Caroline, who gave a him pleading look to help her friends. The Redhead had often spent time in France with this family, who had been old friends of her parents before their untimely deaths. By happen-stance she had found them in pain, and definitely did not want to abandon them now.

"Please can we help them?" Caroline murmured to Harry. The boy glanced at Astoria, and frowned slightly.

"Of course. Jasmine? Tracy?"

"Yeah?"

"Please take Astoria and take shelter behind the tents for a moment." Harry requested. Astoria because she was significantly younger, and would just get hurt. The other two because they were less inclined to use curses, either out of being suited to charms or out of being something of a pacifist.

The two reluctantly agreed, understanding the logic, and Harry darted out, getting a better shot at the crowd of Death Eaters while Daphne and Caroline prepared to hit them from the other side as soon as Harry needed help. Of course, that was assuming that he would have needed that help. Something that was rendered moot as he saw another Death Eater approach the youngest female.

This one, too, cast a cutting hex at the clothing of the 8 year old girl, and the clothes fell apart as he began to remove his own down to a apir of stained boxers. Bending over, grabbing at Gabrielle and clawing at the little girl's underwear, he pulled down his own.

"Concuss!" Harry roared, stabbing his wand in a fierce motion toward the two would-be-rapists.

A cone of energy distorted the air in front of Harry Potter, and slammed into the standing Death Eaters fiercely, sending them all flying with the concussive force. Luckily, the floored family was unaffected by the chest-level spell, and instead were just surprised by the sailing Death Eaters passing over their heads.

The curse was centred on the peadophile Death-Eater, and Harry didn't flinch as the man's skeleton gave way, and he hit the ground like a waterbed, ripples going through his unsupported body.

Harry sent stunner after stunner at them, each rendering one unconscious as he did. This, however, did little in the way of intimidation, as those that had been knocked down hopped back up and began throwing more dangerous curses back at him.

He stepped to the side as a particularly nasty, venomous purple spell shot towards his chest, being one of the first to be on target; the wizards were rather bad shots in their inebriated states, after all. The spell splashed against a tent and the area around it began blackening quickly, before the entire structure dissolved into dust. Harry snarled, annoyed with himself for using such meagre attacks, and changed tact.

Transfiguring a wall from the Earth in front of him, Harry began blasting chunks of the earth at his enemies, knocking them out, and potentially injuring them seriously, as he did so.

Reparing the wall, and repeating the process, he charmed the debris to pursue the 'Eaters, in a similar manner to the bludger that had followed his brother in Harry's 4th year. The chunks flew at the group, and the drunkards did not think to use their magic to eliminate the threat, which would have been very easy for even the least skilled fully grown wizard.

Panicking at the projectiles' persistence and the defence their enemy had acquired, the drunk men scooped up their comrades, other than the dead man, and fled; ducking and zigzagging away from the flying chunks of earth. Harry would have pursued the cowards, had the family not needed help as soon as possible. While he had never been hit with the curse himself, he was told that it could drive even the best of wizards insane with prolonged exposure. He jogged over to the whimpering and twitching family, taking just a moment to remove the body-bind from the man before he reached the twitching girl in the throes of post-cruitiatus spasms, who appeared to be the same age as he and the others.

Harry glanced at the man, and found him thankfully occupied with his youngest. This meant he could get started on healing her, and Harry cut the edge of his thumb on the sharp canines in his mouth. Quickly, he painted a couple of runes on the girl's arm to begin healing her, and relieving her of the pain. Fleur's eyes fluttered shut as the agony began to come to an end. Emeralds the last thing she saw before she succumbed to sleep.

Sebastian Delacour may, or may not, have seen this but let it go after seeing his daughter sigh, relieved, after the runes were drawn on her skin. He turned to his family's rescuer, and was surprised to find that he was the age of Fleur, and his eldest was still in school!

"Zank you." The French ministry worker replied, his voice strained and shaking slightly from anger. The man, remarkably, pulled himself together almost instantaneously, showing serious training. The 'Eaters must have caught him off guard.

"Do you think we should move? They may bring others back here." Harry questioned the older man.

"You are right. Do you know where we will be safe?"

"We were told that we aught to be safe in the woods."

"We?"

"Girls?" Harry called out in answer, and Caroline and Daphne, along with the others, who they had retrieved, emerged.

"Caroline?!" The shocked Franchman exclaimed.

"Hi, Mr Delacour. Are they alright?" She asked, forgoing a rely and pointing to the figures of Fleur, who was unconscious, and Gabrielle, who was curled into a ball, trying to escape the cold.

Tracy approached the small girl, and conjured a jacket for her, wrapping it around her small shoulders while soothingly whispering.

"Hey, sweetie. Don't worry; you're fine. The bad men are gone." The 8 year old latched onto the older English girl, and began babbling in French.

"Daph? What's she saying?" Tracy asked her best friend.

"She's thanking you over and over again." The blonde smirked at her friend. "Apparently she mistook you for Harry."

"What?! I don't look like Harry!" Tracy cried out, indignant.

"She's in shock, Trace." Harry interjected. "Everyone knows that you're a girl." He said, cutting off any teasing. Then, he spoke to the man that he had rescued.

"Okay, Sir, how are we going to do this?" Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the obvious solution to the problem, then sighed. He supposed that the boy had proven himself to be at least somewhat trustworthy. He had saved his family from a horrid fate, after all.

"Can you, Tracy, was it? Yes, can you take my youngest, please? Since she's already holding onto you, and all." He received a nod on return. "Caroline, can you give me a 'and with Appolline?" The Frenchman grimaced as he looked at his leg. "Zey 'it me with a cutting curse, I doubt I can take 'er weight with zis." He turned a mild glare on the shirtless boy in front of him, he wasn't in the mood to expect him to treat Fleur with care. "You look like you can carry my elder daughter, so I'm trusting you to do so."

"Okay." Harry said, shrugging. He walked over to Fleur's prone form and conjured a blanket, that he then used to preserve her modesty as he scooped her up with ease. "Lead the way." He nodded to the three without burdens, and they headed on, avoiding attention as much as they could, given that one of their number had now attracted attention from 20 odd Death Eaters.

The rest of their night was largely uneventful, other than the inevitable conversation that Harry and the male Delacour had when the group had reached safety.

"So... Why were they attacking you?" Harry asked after a lengthy silence. "At least the one seemed to be from France."

"I know." Sebastian sighed. "My wife," He looked fondly upon the unconscious silver-blonde woman; who had fallen unconscious along with Fleur. "She's a Veela; as you may 'ave noticed. Zey aren't happy zat we are making strides toward giving 'er people equal rights." At this, Daphne snorted, her mask absent tonight in wake of the stressful situations of tonight.

"Equal rights as women, you mean. That is far from equal rights." Sebastian smiled sadly. The girl had a valid point; females were treated as property in the wizarding world.

"Yes, you're right, Meess Greengrass. But Veela are treated as sub-human. Women are treated far better zan zose zat ze bigots in government refer to as 'alf-breeds. My wife eez an apt example of why she and 'er people are ze same as wizards."

"And the French attackers were the bigots?" Harry asked. The idea that they had contacts abroad was worrying.

"Something like zat, yes." Sebastian scowled. "Zey were aiming to 'make an example' out of uz."

"The Delacours are a noble family in France." Caroline explained. "They hold seats on their version of the Wizengamot and sell wine in both the muggle, and the wizarding, worlds."

"Right. Any idea who that guy was?" Harry queried of Sebastian.

"Non. I 'ave made enemies of a lot of ze racists." Lord Delacour shook his head, frowning at the thought. "I will need to talk to Fleur about ze tournament. Zis will not 'elp 'er warm up to me again." He added, mostly to himself.

"Alright, then. I'm going to check the area." Harry said, as he eyed the treeline uneasily. A second later, he vanished into the shadows and began a search for any other Death Eaters.

"Fleur's upset with you?" Caroline questioned. "Why is that?"

"She 'as not mentioned to you?"

"We haven't written to each other for a few weeks." Caroline explained.

"Ah, I am sure she will not mind my telling you, then." His shoulders slumped a little at this, and he switched to French in an effort to avoid being overheard. "The boy-who-lived. Apparently my father and his grandfather created a contract for the eldest female Delacour and the male Potter heir to be married. There was no female in my generation, so it has passed to the next."Sebastian scowled at the thought. "The boy has insisted that he wants to 'have a Veela'. His knowing about the contract activated it, unfortunately."

"Why is it for Thomas, then?" Caroline queried, confused.

"What do you mean? He's the Potter son and heir."

"No he's not. At least, not technically."

"Is he not the only Potter child?" Sebastian was confused; the Potters had come to several French engagements, never had they brought another child with them.

"No. Although it isn't surprising that the people in France are under that impression. The Potter heir ran away as a child; due to neglect." At this point, Caroline and Daphne were scowling visibly, the latter having been able to follow the conversation. Harry likely would have been less than happy, too, had he not been checking the surrounding area for danger.

"Really? Do you know this heir?"

"You could say that, yes."

"Do you believe he is a better fit for Fleur?"

"Definitely, yes." Caroline replied, running a hand over her face, and pointedly ignoring Daphne's glare.

"How are you so sure?"

"Well, I know him as well as anybody does, and I am well aware of what Fleur's ideal man would be." She gave a slightly amused look. "And his saving her life, and her mother, father and sister would definitely not hurt."

"Saving her?... Wait, your shirtless friend?!"

"That's not necessarily how I would describe him, but yes; Harry is the elder Potter." Caroline shrugged, and her tone changed to one of slight hope. "Besides, I doubt he'll be in any rush to wed." Sebastian caught onto the slight clues.

"Hang on... If this will cause tension between the two of you; you really should talk to Fleur about this entire situation."

"I'll discuss it with the others; I'm sure we will get around to talking to Fleur about Harry." 

Daphne's thoughts were furious. Yet another girl was in the running. And this bitch had a magical contract on her side. She took a calming breath, it would not do to alienate the Delacour girl.

-(()())-

The 5 girls looked after by the Greengrass family was sat in a single compartment. The Prefect meeting had finished half an hour ago, and now they were sat around, talking quietly as time went on. Harry had gone off to change, in anticipation for the rush that would come in the toilets as they approached Hogwarts. The grils, likewise, were dressed in their school robes, and had moved onto the topic of the tournament that they had heard of from the Delacours.

The group was discussing the pros and cons of entering the contest; not for themselves, mind you, but for Harry. They unanimously agreed that he would be most likely to be victorious against whatever competition the schools brought along with them. He had proven that fact time and time again. Most recently during the Death-Eater incident. If the group asked him to, he would surely enter the contest. That would be beneficial to them and himself. And, though he never confirmed it, the 5 of them believed that he probably wanted, on some level, to prove himself to his estranged family despite Harry's assurances to the contrary. What better way than to become the tri-wizard champion?

On the other hand, though, there was still a very real risk if he did enter. The death toll was nothing to be made light of, what would they do if Harry was hurt or, Merlin forbid, killed in this? However, the group knew that it would be a good thing for everyone, other than the other schools, that is, if they were represented by someone of Harry Potter's calibre.

As they reached this conclusion, the door opened, revealing a blonde, arrogant ponce.

"Ah, the Greengrass sisters. What are you two doing with these orphans?" He asked, comically looking down his nose, with his head tilted slightly upwards, as he did in order to show some form of superiority. He asked the same thing again and again, as if they would come around to his side with enough persistence.

"Piss off Malfoy." Tracy said, irritated already.

"Ah, the slut's daughter dares talk to me?" He said, with a haughty smirk on his face.

The group knew what that was referring to, and there was no need to say that it upset those inside the cabin. Tracy's father had died quickly in the raid that killed the girl's parents, a merciful death. Her mother, though, had been kept alive for a long time before her death. Tracy paled at the insult, and everyone's anger rose.

"You think that your gorilla body guards will stop me from cursing that slimy smile off your face, Malfoy?" Astoria growled out. "Get. Out. Now."

"Ah-ah. That's not a very nice thing to say, sweet Tori." The younger Greengrass shuddered. "Crabbe. Goyle. I don't think anyone would blame you if you happened to... take revenge on her during the school year." The smirk grew further as he spoke, and was, soon after, wiped suddenly off his face.

"But, my ignorant little friends." Harry planted his hands on each of the bulky boys' shoulder, and their legs shook slightly at the sudden pressure. "The activity of taking revenge does tend to increase the chances of your muscles being a little too strained to prevent falling down a flight of stairs and snapping your necks. So I'd have to recommend avoiding such strenuous activities." He growled, and shoved them apart, stepping through the created gap, and continued.

"You aught to leave, blondie. I'd hate to assign detentions before we even arrive at school. Though I'm sure Hagrid'd be happy to help punish any people that were assigned there for threatening one of his favourite students." The Malfoy heir paled even further than normal as he heard the word 'Hagrid'. "That means get out." The boy, trying to maintain a sense of dignity, slowly scampered out of the cabin. While he was doing so, Harry spoke again in a low voice. "And if you ever bring up what your father and his club did again, I will cripple you." He promised, in a hiss. Draco's retreat increased in speed.

Harry dropped down onto the open seat in the compartment, and stretched. The feline aspect of his mind was responsible for that habit. The girls were shown that he had developed even further over the summer by his shirt riding up, and hinting at the etched muscles underneath.

Harry was happy, later on in the journey, to assign three detentions each to his brother, Malfoy, Crab and Ronald for brawling in the hallways. They would be working with Filtch to clean around the school, the specifics waiting to be given by the squib himself. The 4 were upset, but he cared little for any of them, and certainly not for their opinions.

-()()-

"Now, I have a very exciting announcement to make to you about this year. One that promises a lot of enjoyment to be had by all involved..."

Dumbledore left that statement hanging, increasing the anticipation that many people felt regarding this statement. Harry was bored at this point. He knew exactly what the old man was going to announce.

"This year, Hogwarts is going to host the Tri-Wizard tournament!"

For several beats, silence reigned through the Great Hall.

"You're joking!" One of the Weasley twins exclaimed. This set off the majority of the hall. Everyone laughed, even the Headmaster gave a chuckle.

"No, Mr Weasley, I assure you I am not. Although I did hear a good one over the summer. A Hag, a Troll and a Leprechaun walk into a bar- Ah, not important." Dumbledore cut himself off after Mcgonagall cleared her throat.

"As I was saying, this year, we will be hosting two other, very prestigious, schools. Durmstrang and Beuabaxtons. The students from the aforementioned schools, will be arriving at the end of next week in order to begin the other, friendlier competitions we will be holding, that we are sure will help improve foreign relations. These will include a duelling contest that you may begin applying for immediately; see Professor Flitwick if you are interested, and are at least a 4th year." The diminutive Professor waved enthusiastically. "As well as this, we will have an inter-school Quidditch tournament, see Madam Hooch to try out for one of the two Hogwarts teams, a trivia competition for those more interested in academics, and, as a more light-hearted event, we will be having a long running talent show."

Murmurs broke out throughout his soliloquy, people talking about what they were going to go in for, and who would do best in each. Who would 'bring glory' to Hogwarts.

"But, to get onto the main point of this announcement, we have made increased the volume of tasks in the main tournament by holding 6 as opposed to the 3 that have historically taken place. The competition promises to be extremely exciting, and promises that we will have an interesting year. However, the danger has promoted several precautions. We will, once more, be joined by the Aurors from our ministry, along with a squad from the French ministry, and a squadron of Bulgarian law enforcers. Thankfully, our minister has seen fit to remove the dementors from our grounds and, along with this, the number of Hogsmade trips will be increasing too, for our foreign friends to enjoy themselves in our famed town. But in the spirit of safety, we are restricting the entry of the Triwizard tournament to people who have, by the time they enter, passed their OWLs."

"What?!" Ronald Weasley exclaimed, while his older brothers wore matching grins at the prospect of entering, and in their minds winning, the contest. "That's not fair!" Did the 4th year expect it to be a chess tournament or something?

"I'm sorry if that upsets anybody, but it has been agreed by each school involved, as well as their respective ministries, that this criteria is necessary to prevent any excessive danger to the respective champions."

The Headmaster went on to introduce the auror captains from last year; James Potter and Sirius Black, much to Harry's annoyance, the new DADA professor; Alastor Moody, the new Muggle studies professor; Lily Potter, worsening Harry's mood even further (he thanked the powers that be that Lupin was kicked out last year), and the ministry workers in charge of the contest, Bagman and Crouch, who were attending for the single feast before the contest.

The chatter was making Harry's coming headache all the more prominent. It would be a long year.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter.

One more thing: The anonymous reviewer who used the name PaC brought up some issues I'd like to clarify. This is not a 'smut fic', no funny business occurred in the earlier chapters. I specifically said that Harry didn't think of the girls in a sisterly manner, furthermore, he's not related to any of them. I got a little mixed up with the earlier book's chronology, but have fixed it now, and also clarified that Hermione did set the fire. Plus, I'm not aiming to make this scientifically accurate, sorry if that offends anyone.

I'm not trying to make Harry too overpowered, either; first year was a trap that Quirrell triggered, second was outsmarting a snake and striking quickly against the diary, and third, admittedly, was simply his form being stronger than Lupin's; since I ammaking him stronger than the weak/unremarkable Harry from Canon.