26

"You WHAT?" Harry winced as Sirius's voice rang from the mirror, scaring off a few ducks that had been happily sat on the lake. It was early in the morning after the night of the Halloween feast and Harry had woken up in Fleur's dorm with a burning need to talk to his godfather about everything that had happened. So he had snuck out of the Beauxbatons carriage so as not to wake any of the foreign students and called Dobby on his way down to the lake, asking the elf to pop up to his dorm room and bring down a cloak and his mirror.

"I know, Pads mate, it's fucked up, right?" Harry answered glumly.

"What- I mean- shit- what are you going to do about it?" Sirius spluttered, running a hand through his messy black hair.

"I don't have a fucking clue! I mean, this tournament shit is simple enough to deal with- but Malfoy?" Harry sighed, "What the fuck was I- am I- thinking?"

"Yeah, you know what, pup, you never did tell me why you thought the tournament was going to be simple. You distracted me by kissing Malfoy."

"Oh, well I was just gonna piss about, you know? I figure it's only gonna be dangerous if I actually wanted to complete the tasks or whatever, so I'm just gonna sit at the beginning line." Sirius breathed a sigh of relief, and allowed himself to grin at his godson.

"That's alright then, pup, I was terrified you were going to have some stupid idea like going in there with that bloody sword you bought and trying to hack whatever was attacking you to pieces..." He trailed off as he saw the gleam in his godson's eyes. "Don't even think about it, Harry." Sirius growled. "I don't have a problem with you fighting when you need to, you know that, but if you fucking dare deliberately put yourself in that kind of danger-"

"Calm it, Siri, I'm not gonna fight. Anyway, how's Moony?"

"Blossoming," Sirius grinned, allowing himself to be distracted for the time being, "I finally managed to make him go shopping with me, so I've got him out of those tatty robes, and him and Tonks have been getting on pretty damn well." Harry chuckled, happy that his ex-professor was well looked after.

"And the Wolfsbane that 'Mione's been sending him is working alright, isn't it?" It had been only two weeks into the school year when Harry had had the idea; his bushy haired genius friend had managed to brew Polyjuice over a toilet in their second year, after all, and so why shouldn't she be able to brew Wolfsbane?

"Perfect, although he still says that he needs to pay both of you back for it."

"Oh, tell him to fuck off. I have more than enough money for the ingredients, and 'Mione's just glad to get the chance to brew something so challenging." Sirius laughed.

"I'll tell him that, pup. I've gotta piss off now though, some guy from a magazine called the Quibbler is coming over for an interview."

"Shit, that stuff's still going on? Unlucky, mate," Harry waved and turned off his mirror with a quick tap of his wand.

Well, he thought to himself as he climbed to his feet and headed off to breakfast, it was time to face the music.

Whispering started up as soon as he entered the Great Hall and he stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, all of his newfound confidence forgotten as he flashed back to his second year where whispers followed him everywhere he went. Luckily, he was quickly saved by Cedric, who stood up and called him over to the Hufflepuff table, causing even louder whispers to break out among the rest of the student populace.

"Cheers, mate," he said gratefully as he hurriedly slipped into the empty seat next to his fellow champion, "Not sure I'm all that welcome at the Gryffindor table right now." Sure enough, when they looked over, Ron was glaring at Harry even as he shoved forkfuls of food messily into his mouth. Hermione was sitting next to him, but it was clear from her body language that she wasn't talking to him. When she caught Harry's eye, she waved and smiled worriedly, which Harry returned with a grin and a mouthed 'talk later', which seemed to placate her for the time being.

"Why's he so annoyed at you? He can't really think you'd enter the tournament yourself, can he?" Cedric's question drew Harry's thoughts away from the comfort of Hermione and back onto the hurt that Ron was causing him. He frowned across the tables at the red head as he answered.

"Bloody better not, the stupid prat. I don't have a clue what his problem is, to be honest. Wanker," Harry muttered moodily, picking at a piece of toast.

"Well, Hufflepuff's on your side, at least. And looks like most of Gryffindor is, there's just a few like Ron. A lot of the Ravenclaw's are undecided, and I don't think you ever had a chance with the Slytherin's, eh?" Cedric grinned cheekily, not realising that his comment had caused Harry to think of the one Slytherin that he hoped he actually did have a chance with.

"I fucking hate my life," he groaned as he let his head fall to the table with a thump.

"They'll all come around, mate. Ron too. He's a Weasley after all- they might have some flaws, but they're good people. Don't worry about it. Anyway, have fun in Fleur's dorm last night?" Cedric waggled his eyebrows suggestively, successfully getting a snort of laughter out of Harry.

"I wish. I think she's more into older guys than younger though."

"Shame," Cedric looked disappointed for a moment before suddenly brightening up, "What about her friends?"

It was purely by accident that Harry ran into Draco that evening. Or perhaps ran away from would be the better way to describe it. He was on his way down to the dungeons for his Occlumency lesson with Snape when he heard laughter echoing down the corridor, and footsteps coming quickly towards him.

"Father says that Potter won't last ten minutes in this tournament!" A voice was saying, as several others guffawed and chuckled, "Of course, I told him that I was hoping he wouldn't last five!" The voice joined in with the laughter this time, and Harry simultaneously felt a flash of anger and a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach. Malfoy. Of course it had to be Malfoy, because nothing was better than running into the one person that Harry truly didn't want to see at that moment. As he had told Sirius just that morning (was it really only that morning? It seems like weeks ago that he had sat by the lake, free from the whispers that had followed him all day) Malfoy did nothing but confuse him, and after the day that he had just endured, he wanted nothing more than to be attacked repeatedly by his potions professor before going to bed.

But no. Draco bloody Malfoy just had to be walking down the hall, taking the piss out of Harry, at that very second. Gritting his teeth, Harry quickly backtracked and threw himself behind a suit of armour. It was the best he could come up with at such short notice, so to compensate he stood as still as possible as the footsteps drew nearer.

And then Malfoy was passing by, without a glance in Harry's direction, with Crabbe and Goyle following behind him. Harry had just let out the breath he had been holding when Blaise walked past, trailing a metre or so behind the group. In his mind, the Gryffindor said a silent prayer that Blaise wouldn't turn and see him, but it seemed that luck wasn't with him tonight.

"Harry, how nice to see you here," the Slytherin boy smirked, glancing ahead to make sure the others hadn't noticed his absence.

"Likewise," Harry grumbled, following Blaise's gaze and glaring at Malfoy's back.

"He's been very vocal about hating you lately, you know. More so than usual, I mean. Especially today. One would almost think he was compensating for something."

And with that, the Slytherin was gone, leaving Harry to extract himself from behind the suit of armour and walk dazedly to Snape's office, his mind a whir with the other boy's words.