Chapter Text
"Harry Potter."
The moment the word left Dumbledore’s lips, Harry had to sigh internally, because seriously, what the fuck? Can he seriously just not catch a break?
Harry grimaced as he saw literally everyone staring at him. Okay. Those stares didn’t look very friendly.
“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore called once again, a sense of urgency in his voice now.
“Harry, go!” Hermione urged, nudging him lightly. Harry turned around and fixed her with a glare.
“No.”
“ No!? What do you mean, no?! You have to get up there now!” Hermione whisper-shouted. The whisper part didn’t really work though, as the Great Hall was really silent and the entire Gryffindor table could probably hear them.
“I don’t want to compete in it,” Harry said simply, shrugging nonchalantly and turning to face the front of the hall as if nothing happened. He was honestly tired of doing whatever people expected of him.
Whatever people expected of him…
But what if he didn't?
It was then that something in Harry’s brain clicked, and he grinned. Tuning back into his surroundings, he heard Hermione still talking to him.
“I know, but you need to get up there. We can figure it out later.” Hermione urged. Harry rolled his eyes. Fine.
He pushed himself off of the table, whistling Celestina Warbeck very loudly on the way to the champions. He caught Neville giving him an amused look and he winked. Might as well fuck with people while he’s given the heightened publicity.
“Sup big D,” Harry greeted as he approached Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked at Harry as if he had grown Hippogriff wings for a moment before masking it with concern.
“Harry, please go down to join the rest of the champions,” he said, motioning toward the door. “We will join you in a moment.”
“But I’m not a champion. I didn’t even put my name in this obese wine-glass thing.” Harry replied, knocking his elbow onto the Goblet of Fire for a second, internally cackling at the horrified gasps as it almost tipped over. Even Dumbledore looked like he was constipated as it almost fell down.
“Harry...we urge you to go down and meet the other champions. And please, do not touch or attempt to destroy the Goblet of Fire.” Dumbledore explained calmly, fixing Harry with what he thought was a reprimanding look. It didn’t really work though.
“Nah, I’d rather not. Especially considering the stupid fucking thing entered me in this pretentious tournament,” Harry explained rather calmly, casting a quick shrinking charm on the Goblet of Fire and tossing and catching it. He heard several poorly masked laughs echoing across the Great Hall.
Dumbledore’s facial expression quickly changed to one that once again made him look constipated.
“Man, all this talking is making me thirsty,” Harry complained, casting an aguamenti at in the Goblet of Fire and sipping from it casually. Dumbledore, for once, genuinely looked as if he was too shocked to say anything else.
“Well, that’ll be all from me,” said Harry, pivoting on spot and starting away from Dumbledore. “Later, big D!”
-
Severus had never seen such a bewildering sequence of events in his life. He already felt ten years fly off his lifespan the moment Potter called the headmaster “Big D,” and almost instantly felt ten more disappear when Potter drank water from the Goblet of Fire. And never in his life did he expect to almost laugh at something a student said, let alone Potter.
This is odd behavior for the Potter boy, Severus couldn’t help but think. Compulsions? A Dare from friends? Did he bewitch the Goblet of Fire? Or did he finally develop some sort of Slytherin side?
No, impossible, Severus thought. The day that Potter moved past his ridiculous Gryffindor-ness was the day that pigs would fly.
-
Harry walked into the Great Hall the next day with a skip in his step, ignoring the blatant staring and whispering. Seriously, couldn’t the masses appreciate the art of subtlety? Not that he could talk.
“Sup Big N, sup Big R,” Harry said casually, plopping down on the table between Neville and Ron.
“Hello, Harry,” Neville said, who looked as if he was trying to hold back laughter, at the same time Ron yelled, “Mate!”
“Yes, Ron?” Harry questioned, looking at Ron as he gaped at Harry.
“What you pulled yesterday was mental! Have you seen the Daily Prophet? ” Ron exclaimed, thrusting the newspaper directly under his plate, almost knocking over the goblet of water next to it. Harry promptly replaced the regular silver goblet with the shrunken Goblet of Fire and filled it with orange juice. Everyone in range of Harry looked at him as if he grew a second head.
He glanced down at the paper and had to resist bursting out laughing then and there from the title itself.
HARRY POTTER, DECLARED 4TH TRIWIZARD CHAMPION, STEALS GOBLET OF FIRE
Rita Skeeter
Yesterday night, during the Triwizard Tournaments declaration of champions, the famed Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, was declared 4th champion. Witnesses say Potter had originally refused to move from his seat to accept his position as the 4th champion, until his presumed girlfriend, Hermione Granger, had convinced him to go up to greet the headmaster.
“They always spend time together,” said Pansy Parkinson, a 4th year Slytherin student. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason he went up was because of her convincing him.”
Potter then proceeded to ‘verbally f--- with the headmaster,’ as stated by Gred Weasley, 6th year Gryffindor. Several witnesses then reported Potter calling the headmaster “Big D,” and referring to the ancient Goblet of Fire artifact as an “obese wine glass thing.”
“He showed major disrespect to the headmaster and the artifact that day,” said Draco Malfoy, another 4th year Slytherin student. “He was always flaunting his fame and strutting among the castle as if he was better than everyone. Potter acting out like this isn’t a new thing.”
Potter was then reported to have almost destroyed the Goblet of Fire, nearly tipping it over and disrespecting the artifact by calling it a “stupid f------ thing.” Witnesses then reported him to have shrunk the Goblet of Fire and proceeded to drink from it. The Goblet of Fire was reported missing, and is widely suspected to still be in Potter’s hands.
“I think the fame and his new girlfriend has made him more entitled than usual,” said Malfoy. “It’s really upsetting, as the students of Hogwarts, to have Potter act out like this and taint our name. We can only hope that he returns the Goblet of Fire and issues an apology for what he has said and done.”
Harry burst out laughing- he couldn’t help it. Ron stared at him. He looked a bit constipated.
“We have double potions next,” Neville moaned in despair, and Harry’s attention flicked to him. “I hope the Slytherins and Snape aren’t going to be too obnoxious.”
Harry only smirked- he certainly had special plans for that class.
“You’re right Neville. We can only hope.”
Neville audibly gulped.
-
Harry almost fell out of his seat from shock as Snape swiped the Daily Prophet out of his hands. Couldn’t the emo git have given him a warning?
“I understand that the notoriety has ascended to your diminutive brain, Potter, yet that does not imply that I shall worship before our purported ‘savior’ in the manner of the multitude, acquiescing to your indolent comportment in scholarly pursuits, akin to the dunderhead that you present yourself to be,” Snape sneered, flicking open the paper and looking down at Harry condescendingly.
Harry blinked dumbly before responding, “Explain in Quidditch terms. I don’t actually speak nerd.” Snape’s face went through several expressions before once again settling on a sneer that made him look slightly constipated.
“Excuse me?” Snape said, his voice a deadly whisper that rang out in the quiet Potions classroom, everyone’s focus now on the both of them. Harry rolled his eyes.
“I said ‘I don’t speak nerd,’ you emo twat. Are you deaf?” Harry deadpanned. He saw Zabini hastily cover his laugh with a cough as he heard Ron and Seamus do the same. Malfoy’s expression shifted to one that made him look constipated. Seriously, what was up with everyone and constipation?
Snape went a concerning shade of red before he barked out, “Detention, Potter! And eighty points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a Professor! You will learn appropriate manners, and respect your superiors!”
“No.”
Snape, if possible, went even redder as his voice dropped to a deadly whisper once more.
“No? Then perhaps another method will humble you.”
Snape proceeded to start reading aloud the article, stopping every so often to let the Slytherins laugh. Harry did not know what the point of this was. He already read it, and Snape literally saw him doing it. Maybe the greasy git was blind too.
“‘... issues an apology for what he has said and done.’ ” Snape finished, flicking the paper shut and looking at Harry expectantly. Did he expect him to get upset?
“Borrrrringgg!” Harry blurted out, as Snape’s gaze fixated into a scowl.
“Boring, Potter? Boring? The most publicized newspaper berating you and talking about your pathetic love life is boring?” Snape sneered.
“Yeah, it kinda is,” Harry said as he fake yawned. “My love life isn't pathetic. I don’t even have a love life. Nor do you, and you probably won’t have one anytime soon if your ego continues to stay the same size as your nose.”
The Slytherins gaped at Harry, a few openly chuckling as Snape’s expression shifted into the constipation™ look. Ron abruptly laughed so hard he proceeded to accidentally knock over the bottle of stinksap onto Snape’s robes.
Harry finally burst out laughing. He really couldn’t help it this time.
-
“So let me get this straight. You’re saying that Potter first went off task in class, proceeded to call you an ‘emo twat,’ then refused to apologize or fix his behavior, then yelled out ‘Boring!,’ in your class, then told you that you ‘probably won’t have a love life anytime soon if your ego continues to stay the same size as your nose’?” Minerva questioned, fixing what would be an inquiring stare on Severus if it wasn’t for the humor dancing in her eyes. Severus scowled as he jumped out of his chair.
“Yes! The boy has absolutely no manners! Just like his blasted father!” Severus exclaimed, kicking his chair as he paced around the professor’s lounge. He paused for a moment, slowing down. “Even then, the boy has been acting differently recently. Surprisingly more…Slytherin, as infuriating as it is.”
Minerva hummed in response. “It seems so. The boy has developed quite the silver tongue,” she said, sipping her extremely large glass of firewhiskey.
Severus resumed his pacing, stuck in thought. What had happened to the boy? His mind raced through possibilities, each more unlikely than the last.
“It must be some stupid Gryffindor dare,” Severus mumbled, grimacing internally as his voice betrayed his doubt at the statement. Minerva raised an eyebrow. Severus’ eyes narrowed.
“I refuse to believe the Potter boy has developed any Slytherin traits. He is as Gryffindor as his father. Whatever this strange phase is, it will most certainly pass.”
The humor in Minerva’s eyes multiplied.
“Sure, Severus. Whatever you say.”