Ron and Hermione were a little further down the table, and Ron finally seemed to have realised Harry wasn't sitting with them. Unfortunately — or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it — he was promptly distracted by a beautiful blonde French girl coming up and asking to take one of the dishes. Ron was completely tongue-tied over her, and Hermione waspishly gestured for the girl to take the bowl, glaring at the redhead. Harry noticed several other boys goggling at the blonde as she walked back to the Ravenclaw table.
"D'you think she's part veela or something?" Neville asked curiously, his eyes following the girl as well. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"She could be." It would explain why all the boys were staring. Did veela not affect women?
"Oi, Harry, there's room for you up here," Ron called once dessert appeared on the table, gesturing to the empty seat beside him — the seat he'd cleared for Viktor Krum.
"I'm alright, thanks, Ron," Harry waved him off, helping himself to cake. Neville snorted at the outraged look on Ron's face.
"The Golden Trio isn't so golden anymore, is it?" he murmured knowingly. Harry shrugged. "My priorities are different now. Theirs… aren't quite matching up." He was hoping to spend as long as possible avoiding the inevitable confrontation when they realised he was mostly avoiding them. He just felt so suffocated around them. Ron especially, but if that friendship fractured he couldn't guarantee what side Hermione would land on.
When the plates were cleared, Dumbledore stood once more, and Harry realised that the two empty chairs at the staff table had been filled. When had Bagman and Crouch arrived?
Filch hauled in the huge casket, which revealed the Goblet of Fire — an impressive object, to be sure. Harry should've known the 'impartial judge' was a magical artefact. Wizards did love giving decision-making power to inanimate objects.
When they all gathered to head up to their common rooms, Harry found himself bookended by Ron and Hermione once more, though the twins quickly nudged them aside. "An age line!" Fred crowed. "That's easy to fool! And once our names are in the Goblet, we're golden!"
"How about it, Harry? Sure you don't wanna try for it?" George asked. Harry laughed, shaking his head.
"Nah, it's not for me. But good luck with that." He doubted something as simple as an Ageing Potion would fool the line, but then again, it was Dumbledore. He was all about encouraging reckless rule-breaking.
At the door to the Entrance Hall, they met up with a cluster of Durmstrang students and their headmaster, Karkaroff. Harry stepped back to let them go through, hoping Karkaroff hadn't seen him, but it was too late. The man was staring. Harry tried not to squirm; Snape had warn ed him about Karkaroff. The man was a Death Eater, and a slippery one at that.
Karkaroff's eyes were fixed firmly on his scar, and behind him his students were staring too, whispering to each other as they realised who Harry was. The only one not staring was Krum. "If you don't mind, Igor," Snape's voice carried over the hushed crowd. "Potter's ego is big enough as it is without foreigners gawping at him as well. His head may not fit through the door if you keep at it much longer."
Karkaroff seemed to have realised he'd gathered a crowd, and coughed, heading through the doorway. Harry shot Snape a grateful look, but the man ignored him.
And so it began.
.-.-.
It didn't escape Harry's notice that the day the names would be drawn from the Goblet was also Halloween. He woke up with a bad feeling in his gut, and slipped from the dorm before anyone else was awake, wrapped in a dark blue knitted jumper that still smelled faintly of the detergent Ceri used at Seren Du, and the cloak he'd been given for his bi rthday. He put the two-way mirror in his pocket on his way out, slowly drawing together a plan in his mind.
Even with the excitement about the Goblet of Fire, Harry was still up early enough that only a handful of people were milling around the Great Hall. He could get used to this; it was nice having breakfast in the quiet. He watched Cassius and a couple of other Slytherins toss their names into the flames, and smirked. Imagine if the Hogwarts champion was a Slytherin?
As things got a little busier, Harry finished off his porridge and left the hall, right as the Durmstrang delegation entered. Each of them had a piece of parchment in their hands. Harry lingered in the doorway to watch them throw their names in one by one, then slipped out of the castle and towards the lake, wrapping his cloak snugly around himself. He found a quiet little nook beside a tree near the bank, setting up his usual privacy charms before taking the mirror from his pocket and speaking Sirius' name. After a few beats, his godfather's face appeared.
"You're up early," Sirius greeted. Harry offered a half-smile.
"So are you," he pointed out. "It's one of those days."
Sirius met his gaze knowingly. "It is, isn't it," he agreed. "How are things at school? The champions are being announced tonight, correct?"
Harry told Sirius everything that had happened since he'd spoke to the man a few days ago, including his little moment with Karkaroff. The mere mention of the man made Sirius scowl. "Stay away from him if you can, Harry," he warned. "He's no good."
Harry had surmised that much for himself. "How are things at home? What are you up to today?"
"Just spending time with Moony. Gonna light a Samhain fire later. Today is… hard, for both of us." Neither of them needed to say why. The death of Lily and James Potter hung over all of them, the wound still achingly fresh after thirteen years.
"I wish I could be there with you," Harry sighed. He hated having to spend Halloween at school. Everyone was too cheerful, and something always went wrong.
"We do too, pup. Make sure someone gives you a hug today, yeah? For me. I'd tell you to go to Severus for one, but I think he might explode if you asked," Sirius joked, making Harry grin.
"Okay. You give Moony an extra hug for me, won't you? For both your sakes." One day they'd all be able to spend the day together, mourning properly. Probably not until after Harry graduated Hogwarts, but… it was a nice thought.
He chatted to Sirius about inconsequential things for a while, basking in the warm feeling he got from having an adult who actually cared about the little things in his life. Not just wanting to talk to him when he was in trouble, or in danger, or they needed something from him — one of the few adults in Harry's life who actually cared about him. Not the Boy-Who-Lived.
Eventually however, Sirius had to go, and Harry pocketed the mirror with a sigh, staring out over the lake. What if he just sat there all day until the feast? What if he didn't even go to the feast? He'd find out who the champions were in the morning. He didn't really care either way. His privacy charms made external noise a little fuzzy, so he dropped them to let the sounds of nature wash over him; the gentle lull of the lake's tide, the birds and other creatures in the forest chattering away. Very faintly, he could hear the noise of students up at the castle, but it was just far enough that he could pretend they didn't exist. Until someone cleared their throat. "Mind if I join you?"
It was Draco, his pale face half covered by his Slytherin scarf. Harry shuffled over a little, making room for the blond. "What are you doing out here?"
"Pansy wanted to try and get a better look at Krum," Draco explained. "I left her to it. Are you okay? You look sad." "Just spoke to Sirius." Harry bit his lip, then sighed, meeting Draco's gaze earnestly. "I miss him. Especially today."
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