Harry’s a Veela and Everyone has to Deal with it

by lvyRose

Summary:

Harry’s a veela and doesn’t realize it till his fourth year and causes everyone emotional distress. Aged up so he’s sixteen in Goblet of Fire. This is mostly a funny story but might be spicy later. Share your thoughts because I don’t even know where this is gonna go.

Chapter 1: The Reckoning

Notes:

I dont own the series, idk if I gotta clarify that but yeah, also I edited this because it didn’t originally save my indents. Yay.

In hindsight Harry should’ve definitely realized all this sooner. People didn’t just gawk at his fame or scar as he passed, many would trip or stare heavily at him from the moment he first arrived in the wizarding world.

Hell, he definitely should’ve realized something was up when Ginny and Luna fell down all six floors of the grand staircase trying to eye him as he passed underneath just to get to class. He always chalked it up to Ginny’s crush, and it was semi-right.

From that point on, Hermione had been enthusiastically shoving a book called Magical Half-breeds in his face in vain attempts to get him to read it. ‘Well jokes on her, I can’t read!’  Harry thought with a dumb smirk as he made another excuse not to read it, leaving a frustrated Hermione in the hallway with a twitching eye. Harry didn’t even hear Susan slam face-first as she walked into a suit of armor, her head swerved back at him in a surely painful angle just to watch him pass.

——————————————————————

Harry sat in the common room and sprawled across the couch while Ron was laser-focused on chess, bullying younger-years at the game whilst he fistpumped at his victories like it was a championship.
“Ya know the choosing’s tonight.”

“The what?” Harry pointedly asked back, barely lifting his head to look over at Ron. For some reason Lavender kept moving wherever his eyes went, like a goalie trying to block a shot.

“Ya know mate, the Goblet of Fire choosing, with the champions and whatnot.”

Harry facepalmed; having entirely forgotten there was an event for the whole school and the visiting two rival schools. He didn’t care in the slightest and was ready to have a FINALLY calm year.
“Oh! Right, yeah! Who’d you reckon will get picked?”

When the black-haired boy finally removed his hand from his face, Lavender’s own was less than an inch away. Harry jumped back, startled, and swatted the mesmerized girl back.

“Pffffft, nevermind that, looks like Lavender’s Goblet of Fire has it out for you.”

“Ron… never speak again.”

“Got it mate.”

——————————————————————
The two Gryffindors sauntered down the halls to the dinner and choosing, walking past a blonde Beauxbaton's student that made Ron gasp and stare. Harry bonked him on the head, dragging him towards the Great Hall.
“Ron, snap out of it, there’s food ahead!”

The mention of food made Ron sober up in an instant, raising his head high.
“Right you are, I almost lost myself.”

A sudden dainty hand grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him back as an exaggerated foreign accent came from behind.
“Excusez-moi.”

The duo turned, an older witch in the baby-blue robes of the French school was there with Harry’s bicep in her grasp. She didn’t seem to pay mind to Ron as her breathing hiked.
“Je did not realize ‘Ogwarts had a Veela student!”
The woman practically moaned the emboldened word out, the deep blue eyes firmly locked into Harry’s emerald ones.

“We do?”
Ron asked, squinting up at the stranger and probably strange witch. Harry shot a glance at the ginger and his best friend shot one back as they silently communicated.

‘Is she crazy?’

‘Hot, but crazy.’

‘Why’s it always us with the crazies?’

‘Gee I wonder, HARRY POTTER COUGH COUGH’

‘… point made’

The two nodded, looking back at the Beauxbaton woman and nodding politely. Harry slowly pulled his arm free of her hand, trying not to offend but also escape back to somewhere with witnesses in case the blonde decided to be more touchy. Harry tried to keep his voice neutral as he responded: “We’ll let you know if we see her.”

With that, the two returned to their path off to the Great Hall. This time as fast as they could go whilst having plausible deniability that they weren’t running from the blonde witch. Entering the hall at last, Hermione was already seated and awaiting them with a raised eyebrow. The trio was quickly seated in their usual spot, Harry watching as the crazy-arm-grabber stared at him whilst she walked to the Ravenclaw table. Her head cranned back to stare even as she was moving the opposite direction.

Whilst Harry forcefully looked away, he turned to Hermione: “Do you know what a Veela is?”

The other two paused, with varying reactions; Hermione grabbed her napkin and outright screamed into it so loudly that even the approaching Draco Malfoy took one look and went the other way. Ron just explained.  “Oh, those were the bird-ladies from the world cup. Bulgaria’s mascots.”

“Ah… we have a bird-lady as a Hogwarts student?”

Hermione pulled her face from the napkin, looking ready to explode at the poor scar-headed boy before Dumbledore clinked his glass together to silence the bustling dining hall.

“Tonight’s the night: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang students: each school will have its champion chosen! With this title and role you will go through three tasks, and if victorious you shall be in history forever… and there’s a prize of a thousand galle-“

Dumbledore didn’t get to finish as the hall went wild over the concept of some money, completely ignoring the whole ‘eternally remembered in history’ or ‘glory and fame’ bits.

“QUIET.”
He spoke, his voice charmed to reverberate through the hall. The headmaster shot a fireball from his wand, igniting the giant stone Goblet as three names popped out on tiny parchment.

“Viktor Krum!”

“Fleur Delacour!”

“Cedric Diggory!”

Dumbledore clapped, as did the others whilst the three champions rose to enter the backroom with the staff involved in the Triwizard Tournament. Harry smiled and clapped for the Hufflepuff Seeker, noting that Fleur was the crazy chick from earlier… he made a mental note to warn Cedric about her later. Right when Dumbledore turned to leave, a fourth parchment came from the fire. The old wizard picked it up gingerly like it could be cursed and adjusted his glasses. His grey eyes peered at Harry. “Harry Potter…?”

Even Dumbledore spoke, confused for one of the rare times in his life. Assuming you don’t count every moment Harry’s at the castle, because then Dumbledore would be often confused. Harry stood up, walking to the backroom like he was being executed.

In the dim backroom, Harry walked down to find the other three in various states. Krum just stood against a wall with a permanent frown on his face, Cedric was pacing and looking at the floor before he looked up. His eyes wide and glossy as he stared at Harry, and crazy bitc- Fleur, just sat in a chair. Besides Cedric, she was the first to notice him.
“Ah, mon frèrè-vélane, do zey want us back in ze hall?”

Harry raised a finger, opening his mouth to respond when nothing came out. He slowly put his hand down, watching as Krum waved a hand in front of Cedric’s glossy stare without a single reaction from the Englishman. As they awkwardly stared at one another, a bunch of footsteps scurried in from behind Harry.

Before the black-haired boy could respond the calm old Headmaster was already to him.
“HarrydidyouputyournameintheGobletofFire?”
Dumbledore asked calmly.

Harry just shook his head, moving to the other three students’ spot whilst faculty poured out into the room. Standing next to Fleur, even her eyes looked unfocused and she stared deeply like Cedric had been.  He swore the corner of her lip had drool on it.

A whole cacophony of arguments broke out, the two ministry men, Crouch and Bagman, seemingly saying every wrong thing at the worst time whilst Dumbledore tried to calm everyone. Moody was talking shit to Snape and Kakaroff, to the sheer delight of Harry. Eventually they came to some sort of conclusion, and whilst no one seemed happy, there was no actual solution to Hogwarts’ unspoken ‘fuck over Harry Potter’ rule.

The assembly of staff funneled out of the backroom, leaving two mesmerized champions with Harry and Krum. Krum had moved beside Harry, seemingly trying to diagnose the two staring champions. When he slid beside Harry, Fleur made an audible growl that made both Harry and Krum jump back. As they parted, her anger died down and Harry watched as talons retracted from five stab-marks in the armrest of her chair.
“Da fuck is wiv dem?”

Krum asked in broken-english, the stone-faced quidditch star genuinely concerned. Harry just shrugged and walked off as the Bulgarian followed suit. Fleur gasped and shook her head as the duo left the room, while Cedric took longer. When the English guy’s eyes returned to normal he screamed “I’M NOT GAY!” Right into Fleur’s ear.

——————————————————————

Harry returned to his common room, entering the password and being grabbed and pulled inside by the Weasley twins. Ron and Hermione sat in the back as the common room was cheering, his closest friends giving small claps while their faces were grimacing in sympathy. Harry mentally reminded himself to get them huge christmas gifts, they always knew how he felt about this bullshit and could spot it a mile away. As soon as he could, Harry darted to them.

“So you didn’t do it right?”

“Ron, why would I do something that stupid?”

“I just wanted to double-check.”
Ron raised his hands in surrender whilst Hermione sighed dramatically at the start of their newest rule-breaking possibly-lethal evil-ass-stopping situation. The trio sat there, drinking loads of Firewhiskey to ‘prepare’ as they called it, for the rest of the night.

——————————————————————

Harry started his morning by finding half of his wardrobe ransacked. Specifically all of his baggy shirts were stolen, and the wizard couldn’t make heads or tails of what that could possibly be about.

Harry groaned to himself as he now trudged down the stairs from Gryffindor Tower, heading to breakfast without a shirt on between his open-robes. He tried to hold them together over his front without much success as he had to hold the railing on the moving staircases too. He didn’t trust those damn stairs, especially as high up as he was.

On the way to the great hall he spotted drooling-crazy-bit- ahem, Fleur, talking with Hermione who was frantically waving that same book on half-breeds and celebrating like her team had won a world cup whilst the French woman did the same. Whatever that was, he didn’t care, he was too hungry to stop and see.

Sitting alone in the Great Hall (Ron was still asleep) Harry’s head buzzed with the uneasy feeling of being watched as he munched a donut. Looking up, his emerald eyes spotted just about every pair of female eyes locked onto him and his partially-exposed-chest. From across the entire room he saw Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis paused, their hands on each other like they were in the middle of a teasing play-fight and had time stopped on them. Their eyes were locked on his, making him look away with a blush.

Even Malfoy was looking, his whole mouth open and gaping his direction. ‘What the genuine French hell?’ Harry thought, suddenly deciding to pile a bunch of food on his plate and find a spot to eat privately. ‘Didn’t know a lack of shirt was THAT taboo here.’ He huffed.

The boy who lived didn’t even get past the Great Hall’s doors before two women pulled a bag over his head and frantically whispered as they picked up his skinny body. Harry sobbed internally, having dropped his breakfast as the mystery ladies stole him off somewhere deeper in the castle… granted he knew where they were going, he’d been here for four years after all, and it seemed like they were in the library before his hands and legs were bound to a chair and the hood was pulled off.

Standing in front of Harry was drooling-crazy-kidnapping-bit- I mean Fleur and Hermione.

 

‘Wait why did Fleur have a bubble around her head?  And why does Hermione not know what personal space is?’
He bemoaned internally.

“I’ve been trying to get you to read this damnit!”

Hermione hissed out, and Harry’s eyes went wide. One did not just ignore when Hermione Jean Granger swore. The bushy-haired witch shoved an open book into his bound face.

“READ!”

Harry groaned, accepting his fate and knowing he was doomed to his fate by his own best friend and the French older student. The black-haired wizard skimmed the page, a book on Veela, their allure, transformation, and something about exceptionally rare male variants.

“… Hermione, don't be mad.”

The bushy-haired girl was already mad just from him saying that.

“I don’t get what I’m supposed to understand here.”

Fleur pulled her long blonde hair in frustration, before her hands clasped over Harry’s cheeks.
“‘Arry Potter do tu have en affeenity ‘or fire mageec?”
She demanded with her drawn-out accent, and Harry nodded in reply despite the death-grip the French woman had on his cheeks.

“Do v’omen stare at tu as tu pass? Make advanceez? Drool?”

“I guess? I mean you did back in tha-“

“Ve shall not speak of zat again, if tu know what is good for tu.”

Harry nodded solemnly, and shrugged to finish answering the previous question posed before the blonde git had interrupted him.
“I guess so.”

Hermione pumped her fist in a surprisingly Ron-ish way, and Harry made a mental note to somehow stop him from rubbing off on the brilliant witch. God only knows what kind of terrifying things that might cause.

“Harry, that's it! That’s why everyone stares or tries to get your attention. You’re a Veela!”

Harry blinked out of sync, one eye after another at the pair of witches. “So why aren’t you and Ron affected? And why isn’t Fleur right now?”

Hermione at least paused this time to answer, thinking to herself before snapping her fingers in realization. “Ron’s pretty much only interested in food, and I, books. Fleur has a bubblehead charm on, allure must be something you need to feel in the head to sense.”

“Oui, zis is the closest ‘ting je have to a gasmask.”
Fleur Delacour remarked from within her bubble-dome. The blonde huffed as she undid the spell-ropes on Harry’s limbs.

“So if I do this?”
Harry asked with a tilted head, poking Fleur’s bubble and popping it. The result was instant as the haughty and elegant French girl was staring at him lustfully, reaching out to his chest. Harry stepped back and she audibly groaned in frustration before Hermione blushed and dragged the veela-woman away.

 

”… Nah, I’d know if I was a bird.”

Harry affirmed to himself as the women left, with Fleur desperately trying to go back his direction.  The blonde was clinging onto bookshelves whilst Hermione tried to pry the older witch off.

——————————————————————

Cedric was having a tough time. He was sitting up against a wall with his legs tucked up against his chest. His girlfriend Cho sat beside him, rubbing his back as the two talked.

“I’m not that - I just-! Why is it affecting me!”

“Maybe you’re bi? It’s not that deep Ced.”
Cho remarked, shaking her head chidingly. She didn’t really care, just there to support her boyfriend, after all it's not like he wasn’t into ladies. So she was content.

“But I mean its like- OH NO!”
Cedric’s eyes grew wide as he cut himself off, staring down the hallway in horror as Harry was walking that way. The Hufflepuff screamed like a girl and ran the other way, much to Cho’s giggling enjoyment and Harry’s confusion.

“Boy this tournament must be getting to him, huh Cho?”

“Mm, it’s something in the tournament actually.”

“Damn, poor guy. He must’ve already known the first task is gonna involve dragons.”

Cho paused, looking up to the younger student with a completely confused expression before she nodded slowly.
“Riiiiiiight… I’ll let him know, thanks Harry.”

Chapter 2: Luna Does Science

Summary:

I’m enjoying this shitpost way too much and delegating characters to over-the-top comical arcs. Tracy’s in particular was inspired by a hilarious work LightofLuthien did.

“Luna… why do you have all my shirts levitating in the courtyard?”

 

In the Transfiguration Courtyard stood a puzzled Harry and one Luna Lovegood, the latter in a white labcoat over her Ravenclaw robes.  She was writing notes on a clipboard whilst fingering the wand she kept perched on her ear.

 

“Hello Harry!  I’m doing science.”

 

“That tells me absolutely nothing, Luna.”

 

“You seem to produce and infect others with special Wrackspurts that I have dubbed ‘Harry’s Spurts.’”

 

The green-eyed boy just sighed, rubbing his temples.  ‘Yep, one of those days already.’  He groaned internally.  

 

“Okay, so what does that have to do with science and all of my shirts?”

 

“Ohhhhhh, well Harry I was making sure your shirts weren’t producing the wrackspurts.”

 

Luna replied, with her dreamy voice that always made her sound like she was thinking of some lovely fantasy.  The blonde jotted down more notes as Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones crossed the courtyard, and without a word to Luna grabbed a shirt each from the pile with blushing faces already staring at Harry.  Hannah meekly waved before the pair sped off down a corridor.

 

“… so are they?”

 

“Are they what, Harry?”

 

“Producing Wrackspurts?”

 

“Oh!  Nope.”

Luna popped the ‘p’ as she spoke, upbeat and focused on her clipboard.  Looking down at it, Harry furrowed his brow when he realized she didn’t have paper on it and just wrote on the clipboard itself… with a muggle pen.

 

“So can I have them back?”

 

“Mhm!  I’m done with phase one of my tests, now to phase two.”

 

“Luna… what’s phase two?”

 

“The same thing but with your pants.”

 

Harry didn’t even feel bad for firing a stinging hex at her, or at least he didn’t until it missed and hit a girl on the other side of the courtyard.  Looking up as the accidental-victim yelped, Daphne Greengrass was holding her stomach and yelled at him: “BAKA!”

 

Harry stared, wondering what the ever-loving-fuck that meant before he noticed Tracy staring with glossy eyes.  Her hand was holding her wand before it slipped free in her lax grip; hitting the floor and shooting a blasting curse at a wall.  Turns out it was the other side of the men’s bathroom, as Neville was sitting on a toilet and staring out at the now-courtyard-view he had from the shitter.   Harry awkwardly waved before dashing off. 

 

 “I am not sticking around to explain this shit to a professor.” Harry groaned

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry plopped right down onto the bench for lunch with Ron and Hermione… and Lavender, who was still trying to occupy his line of sight whilst Parvarti was struggling to pry her friend off between her own glossy-eyed glances at Harry.  

 

The trio jumped as a bookbag hit the table beside him.  Spotting the blue coloring of Beauxbatons, the boy-who-lived groaned as he knew who the new arrival was.  

 

Turning his head reluctantly it was none other than drooling-crazy-bitc- Fleur, who was sitting beside Harry with a predatory stare.  Coughing and scooting over, despite it being closer to Lavender, Harry was sending pleading looks over to his two friends whilst Fleur slid closer every time he tried to make space.  He failed, and Fleur was happily pressed against his entire side, and her larger form smirked down at him.

 

“So ‘Arry, are you busy tonight?”

 

“Unfathomably busy.”

 

“Non tu are not, I made sure to check your schedule.”

 

“… the one up in my dorm?  In Gryffindor Tower - where you should not be able to reach?”

 

“Ouias that one, you are brilliant ‘Arry.”

 

“Thank you, I think?”

Harry shot another round of pleading looks to Ron and Hermione, and it was somehow Ron who saved the day.

 

“Fleur, right?

 

“Yes, Weasley?” She practically hissed, entirely opposite of the overly-sweet french voice she was using before.  Ron held his ground and looked right at her before he hit her with a scathing remark:

 

“You’re being a simp.”

 

Fleur’s eyes shot wide open, gasping and recoiling like she’d been burnt.  The entire Great Hall quieted in reaction, everyone hearing Ron’s words.  Fleur gasped.

 

“I’VE BECOME THE VERY THING I DESPISE! NON!”

 

With that, the French seventh-year sprinted from the hall.  

 

——————————————————————

 

Fleur was pacing in her room back in the Beauxbatons Carriage, pondering her entire existence as she threw Floo Powder into the fireplace.

 

“Chateu Delacour.”

 

The green fire flickered into a window like a facetime call, showing her family’s living room where her mother, father, and sister all sat.  Appoline noticed first and smiled brightly, coming up to the fire.

 

“Fleur, ma petite fille!  What iz the occasion?"

 

Gabrielle sat on the couch, swinging her legs and reading a book her grand-maman had gifted her.  It was a fictional book from the Veela Enclave, a fantasy story one of her grandma’s friend’s daughters had authored about a love-plot between a rare mythical male veela and a lady-veela being swept off her feet, and it was her favorite book.  Gabrielle was happily focused on it before she caught Fleur’s conversation:

 

“Oui, a garçon here is a Veela.  I’ve even spoken to him but he seemed unaware of himself and his allure entirely.  ‘Is allure is strong enough to make even I… affected.”

 

Appoline gasped, raising an eyebrow and ushering her husband into the conversation as Gabrielle felt her heartbeat skyrocket.  Closing her book with a loud ‘snap’ she hurried upstairs.  The smaller veela was already planning to visit Fleur for the first task of the tournament, and now she had a new goal as Gabrielle’s eyes gleamed with dangerous intent. Her dainty body hefted a huge box with a bunch of warning labels plastered on - into her suitcase.  From the doorway, Jaune Delacour just sighed and took a lengthy swig of his drink while muttering “not again…”  

 

——————————————————————

 

Meanwhile, Ron had to physically drag Harry out of their afternoon potions due to an explosion Tracy caused (again), but at least this time it was just her potion.  Ron and Hermione were back a few rows while Neville and Harry made the mistake of sitting beside Daphne and Tracy.  

 

On the bright side, Pansy and Draco made the same mistake as them.  Draco’s two henchmen dragged the couple out with similar comically black and scorched faces just like the others.  Neville was being hauled by Hermione, up a different staircase to Madam Pomphrey’s office.

 

As Ron pulled up his friend from the ground, both of the slytherin women nervously approached, with black soot still coating Tracy’s face and hair.  Daphne winced and awkwardly rubbed the back of her head as she started.

 

“Potter!  How unexpected to see you here.”

 

“Greengrass we came from the same Potions class and you two just ble-“

 

“Anyways-“ Tracy chirped up with a blush, interrupting him from the topic.  “We wanted to apologize and make sure you’re good!  After all that’s what girlfri- friends absolutely do.”

 

Ron and Harry shared a look as the two Slytherin women stood, staring at him and acting oblivious to the fact Ron existed.

 

“Right well, I’m fine and I gotta get going.  Ceremony thing, part of the tournament.”  With that Harry started off before Daphne grabbed his arm and hurriedly spoke.

 

“Oh no no we’ll take you there, clearly you’re off-balance from that unfortunate explosion Pansy caused.”

 

Somewhere down the hall Pansy yelled ‘HEY!’ at the accusation, whilst Tracy grinned and grabbed Harry’s other arm as the duo dragged him away from Ron.

 

“Wasn’t that Trac-“

 

“NOPE!  Totally wasn’t me, not like I have an affinity for explosions or reducto-ing-“ As she said the keyword, her wand shot a red spell from her pocket out at an angle to hit the ceiling in front of them with an explosion.  

 

“… Right.”

 

“Not a word dear - I mean Potter.  Baka.”  Daphne said from his left side, flinching and looking away when he peered that direction.

 

——————————————————————

 

At least Viktor Krum is normal.  The rough Bulgarian guy gave Harry a half-assed wave as the two Slytherin kidnappers dropped him off at the Wand-Weighing Ceremony.  Daphne and Tracy only left after Madam Maxime impolitely told them it was for champions only.  

 

Harry walked over to stand beside Krum while Fleur looked over to the black-haired fourth year - who was dreading all of this, not even because of the the whole ‘death tournament’ so much as just the simping-drooling-crazy-bit- Fleur, who sighed with a dreamily smile on her face.  Cedric was staring and hyperventilating into a paper bag.  

 

“If de French ‘voman touches you on your… bad place… let me know.  Will help.”

 

Viktor said, nodding once like he simply spat out a fact and not… whatever he implied about the blonde woman biting her lip and staring at Harry.  

 

The rest of the ceremony went by quickly, despite that odd instance where when Harry gave his want to Ollivander, there was yelling behind him.  Turning around, Harry found Cedric halfway out of the window and trying to escape the room whilst Viktor and Dumbledore dragged him back in whilst the seventh year Hufflepuff kicked and screamed about ‘lecherous thoughts’ and ‘incubuses.’  Dumbledore couldn’t even calm him, sending Professor Sprout off to find Cho and have her deal with his manic episode.

Chapter 3: First Task

Summary:

The First Task accompanied by more patented Luna Lovegood science. I am having way too much fun with this.

The day of the First Task started so well.  That’s exactly why Harry knew some bullshit was afoot.  The usual trio was having their breakfast in the Great Hall alongside the additions of Neville Longbottom and Viktor Krum; after the bathroom incident and Krum being willing to help defeat Drooling-Crazy-Bit- Fleur, the trio decided to adopt them into the no-longer-trio.  Breakfast was going as usual, many gawks and stares along with some cat-calling towards Harry; Lavender trying to invade his personal space like she was Germany in 1938, and the world’s most enraged ginger third-year was raking her knife across the Gryffindor table whilst glaring at Lavender.  

 

Harry really did love all the Weasleys, but holy shit did Ginny have anger issues that needed a therapist… parasocial obsession issues too.

 

But what Harry noticed was the lack of something sitting beside the psycho-ginger.  A lack of a blue-adorned blonde who sat at the Gryffindor table due to her eccentrics.  Luna Lovegood, and after the encounter a few days ago in the courtyard Harry knew some bullshit was up.  

 

“Ginny?”  Harry began, weary to even speak to the knife-wielding woman whilst Lavender tried to push past Krum - who was holding her back with a single hand pressed to her forehead (Harry made a mental note to ask about his bicep workouts).  

 

Like someone had flipped a switch on her, Ginny was back to her shy-self when around him.  The ginger stared like a deer in headlights at the fact he spoke to her; despite him striking up conversations all the time when he visited The Burrow.  

“Yes Harry?”

 

“Where’s Luna?”

 

“Oh so you wanna know where that stealing stank is?”

 

“Woah, what’d she steal?”

 

“My fucking man, apparently.  What’s she got that I don’t?!”

 

“… ya know what I’ll just go find her.”

 

Ginny was seething at the mere mention of another woman, back to stabbing the enchanted-wood-table with her bowie knife with sheer rage.  ‘Seriously who the hell gave her that, Molly?  …yeah I can see her doing that actually.’

 

“I’ll see you guys before the task, I’m gonna make sure Luna isn’t gonna blow up the castle.”  He explained the newly formed… ‘quintro?  Five-stack?  Fivesome?’  As he stood and exited the hall.  

 

——————————————————————

 

Operation Finding Luna wasn’t difficult if you somewhat knew her, just watch out for abnormalities and it’ll lead you like breadcrumbs.  Except this was a whole new level of abnormal for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  

 

Harry peeked into the empty spare classroom.  He smelled sulfur in the air; gagging at the stench of rotten eggs as he spied the familiar blonde hunkered and leaning over a few tables with muggle appliances.  

 

“Luna?”

 

The blonde’s head whirled around like an owl’s, her body still facing the table as she craned her neck awkwardly.  “Hello Harry!”

 

She went right back to her work as if he wasn’t there, making him stand there dumbfounded and clear his throat.

 

“Bless you Harry.”

 

“Wha- right, what are you doing?”

 

“Curing the Wrackspurt epidemic you’ve caused, of course.”

 

“Right… how?”

 

Stepping closer, Harry could see the tables had an assortment of beakers, burners, and a microwave.  Behind the tables stood shelves of items that seemed vaguely familiar.

 

“Luna, are you cooking meth?!” 

 

“It’s a Wrackspurt cure!”

 

“Luna, that is methamphetamine.  I’ve watched Breaking Bad before.”

 

“It’s a Wrackspurt cure.”

 

“… Luna that’s Pseudoephedrine on the shelf behind you.”

 

“That’s called an input Harry, I’m studying science.  You use inputs and a chemical reaction to make a product, or output!”

 

“Luna, making meth is a felony, so is distributing it.”

 

“Oh shit, for reals, the five-o?”

 

“… Luna are you okay?”

 

“It seems my science experiment is going to attract more heat from the feds than I intended.  I will reorganize this at a safehouse later, thank you Harry!”  Without elaboration, Luna vanished the contents with her wand and skipped out of the room like a happy schoolgirl… ‘which I guess she is, minus the meth part.’

 

——————————————————————

 

On the other side of the school, a tiny French girl was rappelling down the side of Gryffindor Tower.  Gabrielle Delacour had an objective, having quickly ‘borrowed’ her sister’s broom to fly onto the roof of Hogwarts and rappel down.

 

So the third-year Beauxbatons student was sliding down the side of the tower - in broad daylight.  

 

There was a reason Gabrielle Delacour was technically a Beauxbatons student whilst never going to the school itself: she was entirely obsessed with encountering a male veela.  Her first year (the only one she physically attended) she had spent on a Sherlock-Holmes-esque investigation and crusade to find one.  If one was going to be ANYWHERE, surely it’d be in French where the most Veela were, non?

 

‘Well apparently not!’  Mentally hissed a tiny french Veela, pulling a black balaclava over her face.  (She’d forgotten it at the start of her heist.)  Pulling out her wand, Gabrielle smirked and whispered “Alohomora!” at the window.  The latch fell free of the lock and let her push it open.  The tiny thing was barely big enough for her, wiggling her way in and cursing in hushed tones before she finally fell inside.  

 

Someone was slow-clapping in the doorway, and peering up from the floor Gabrielle saw her dad and her Beauxbatons Charms professor, Professor Lucille, staring at her.  Behind them was a Hogwarts Professor dressed in green, who turned and walked off to let the French adults handle the situation.  Gabrielle’s father Jaune finally stopped slow-clapping.  

 

“Gabrielle ma daughter, what was the one rule for visiting Fleur’s tournament?”

 

“Non kidnapping my mate- je mean ‘Arry Potter.”

 

“And what did I catch you doing?”

 

“… Introducing myself?”

 

The charms teacher just smiled at that, confusing Jaune.  “Oh she’s just a young girl introducing herself.  Non harm, come on now Monsieur Delacour, your daughter is to compete soon!”

 

Jaune stared as the witch left, despite the sheer mountain of evidence against Gabrielle’s gaslighting.  “Right; so then vhy are tu masked and carrying ropes, en potion, and en knife?”

 

“Self-defense, papa.”

 

“You’re en veela, sweetie.”

 

“Oui papa.”

 

“Tu can throw fireballs.”

 

“Back up plans never hurt, papa.”

 

“You’re not going to admit it until ‘e is tied up in your bedroom, are tu?”

 

“Oui.”

 

“Gabby ma friere, I work for the French Ministry.”

 

“Je recall.”

 

“Have tu considered the implications of ma daughter kidnapping en British wizard, not to mention ‘Arry Potter?”

 

“Non, and je will not till ‘e is mine.”

 

Jaune just sighed loudly, taking another drink and debating how far his lifespan would last with this amount of stress.  ‘She just had to take after her maman.  No kidnapping je said, can’t have another incident like Appoline and I, je said.’  

 

True to form Gabrielle was Appoline’s daughter whilst Fleur was more his personality-wise.  Jaune just ended up being kidnapped by the French veela he was already simping for.  However, Harry didn’t know Garbielle existed… yet, if she had anything to say about it.  

 

Jaune Delacour just walked away from the Gryffindor boy’s dorm, regrettably letting Gabrielle set up her scheme quickly (he was absolutely guilty of spoiling his daughters, no wonder Fleur was as haughty and prissy as she was).  Gabrielle came down less than five minutes later with a concerning lack of the tools she had entered with.

 

——————————————————————

 

“So, any idea how you’re gonna get past the dragon?” Harry asked Viktor, who was with him in the champions’ tent before their first task.  The two had arrived a bit early, and chatted before the dreaded moment Cedric and drooling-crazy-bi- Fleur would inevitably appear.  

 

“Da, I will, how ze muggles say: diff ze dragon.”

 

“You’re going to fight it?!”

 

“Da, with bare fist if need be.”

 

“You have bear fists?”

 

“Vut?”

 

At that point the officials and staff entered the tent, followed by a very horny-looking veela and a whimpering Cedric… hiding literally behind Cho Chang’s skirt.  Apparently she was there for Cedric as an ‘emotional support gf’ and to ‘keep the gay away.’  Which didn’t help Harry or Viktor’s confusion.

 

Crouch and Bagman, the sleazy Ministry officials, introduced the task as bypassing a dragon and stealing a fake golden egg from its nest of real eggs.  ‘Dick move honestly, the dragon just wants to help its kids.’  Harry bitterly thought.  And of course Hogwarts’ unspoken ‘fuck over Harry Potter’ rule came into effect when he drew the biggest and nastiest dragon of the set.  Yay Harry.

 

The other three champions went first with different strategies.  Viktor, true to his word, fought the dragon and won somehow.  By the sounds of Bagman’s commentary Krum somehow blinded it. Fleur charmed it to sleep.  Harry had no clue what Cedric did honestly, he couldn’t tell from within the tent.  

 

Turns out dragons can understand parseltongue, and are pretty chill when you convey your situation.  It took Harry less than two minutes to convince the giant flying reptile about the metal egg and the whole stupid tournament he didn’t want to be in, and the Horntail just let him have the egg without a scuffle.  

 

Or at least Harry was blaming the genius use of parseltongue, and ignoring how a dragon of all things had the same glossy-eyed stare most of the castle’s women did when looking at him.  Surely Hermione couldn’t be right and he accidentally nuked the arena with allure from sheer fear, right?  Considering Parkinson and Malfoy were both in the nurse’s beds in the Champions’ tent, and being treated for a ‘damn bird-woman coma;’ it was up to interpretation in Harry’s opinion.

 

The moment Harry got back inside the tent the French champion was upon him like a hawk.  Crazy-drooling-groper-bitc- Fleur grabbed the front of his shirt and practically kicked Madam Pomphrey out of the way when the nurse went to check on him.  The crazy veela held him, pushing him up against the wall as the blonde taller woman’s hand grabbed his butt and -

 

Fleur was sent flying, ripping a hole in the tent’s wall as she sailed off a few feet.  Where the beauxbaton's student had been was now Viktor Krum with a scowl and his fist stretched out in the direction Fleur had been sent.  Kakaroff was behind him, patting Krum on the shoulder approvingly.

 

“Thanks mate.”  Harry said with a relieved sigh, nodding to Krum, who finally smiled instead of his permanent scowl.

 

“Durmstrang does not tolerate… vat is word?  Touchyness?”

 

“Dah.”  Kakaroff said.  “Bit of dark magic okay, assault not okay.”

 

As it turns out, Harry got first place due to speed and the lack of injuries for him, the dragon, and the eggs.  Krum got second with points off for damage, then Fleur, and finally Cedric last.  

Chapter 4: Fed-Up French Parents

Summary:

Honestly I have lost the plot both in-lore and in my head

The day of the First Task finally ended, and two tired Gryffindor boys headed up to their dorm.  Heading in, Harry promptly collided with Neville, who - along with Dean and Seamus - were standing in the doorway staring at Harry’s bed.

 

“Nev what the hell?”

 

Neville flinched, being bumped as he moved to the side.  “Sorry mate but uh…”

 

“Nice decorating” Seamus interrupted, pointing promptly at Harry’s bed.  Said bed had a whole contraption over it, with several ropes suspending a device that would (presumably) drop the rope holding a potion over his pillow.

 

“Looks like someone cooked up the craziest way to drug a man ever.”  Dean commented.

 

“Ron, ge-“

 

“Getting Hermione.”

 

“Thanks mate.”

 

Seconds after Ron left, a very angry muggleborn girl was stomping up the stairs.  Hermione flung open the door so hard the doorknob left a hole in the wall.  The boys wisely gave the furious bookworm her space.

 

Fun fact, Hermione is quite violent when angry: see Snape (first year) and Malfoy (third year)  for evidence.  

 

“My hunch was right, it's a love potion.”  Granger practically hissed out, clenching her fists tight enough to make Harry wince second-hand.  

 

“Right, but why’s it tied to a rope with scissors hanging next to it - and the scissors are held open by a balloon which is tied to an alarmclock?”  Harry blinked as Ron spoke, ‘since when was he remotely perceptive?’

 

“Complex, yes, but this is a credible threat to Harry’s sovereignty  and we won’t take it lightly!”

 

Harry just sighed, rubbing the bags under his eyes before he took out a silver flask and quickly took a swig of the sauce.  His two best friends gawked.  

 

“Harry James Potter why on earth do you have-“

 

“And why didn’t you share, mate?”

 

“… Sirius.”

 

Hermione had raised her finger up, already beginning a speech before she heard his single-word retort.  She promptly lowered said finger and closed her mouth.  

——————————————————————

 

Two Veela students sat on Fleur’s couch within the Beauxbatons Carriage.  The sisters were being scolded by both parents, over the same events, and somehow for very different reasons.  

 

“What is with you two and that ‘Ogwarts student, I thought we were past this behavior!”  Jaune Delacour droned on, sighing and facepalming.  

 

Appoline was a different story, however still disappointing.  “I know, I thought I taught you two better.  Seriously?  Both of you in broad daylight - I ‘ave said countless times to wait till nightfall!  Much less visibility then.”

 

Jaune’s head turned slower than Fleur had thought possible, sounding like a boulder being dragged along concrete as it moved.  “Honey, ‘e are not encouraging zis!”

 

“Zey are Veela, it is natural and healthy.  Zat is how we claim mates, oui?”

 

“‘Zat was very different, I consented and had a crush on you before you kidnapped moi.”

 

“So will ‘e… after ze fact.”  Appoline said with a huff, watching her daughters sneak off before she flashed them a wink and continued debating their distracted father. 

 

——————————————————————

 

The Headmaster’s office was in a state of chaos as three staff members, a godfather, a kinda-sorta-ish uncle, and the usual trio of chaos-makers were explaining what had happened.

 

Hermione had instantly told McGonagall about the incident, which meant Harry or Ron wouldn’t be allowed to sleep and were promptly dragged off to Dumbledore by the two angry witches.  

 

Dumbledore was sitting, in his usual grandfatherly way of patiently awaiting an explanation.

 

Sirius and Remus were there, off to the side and looking just as sleep-deprived as Harry felt.

 

Snape was there too, and already pissed off as per usual for the man.  ‘Dumbledore almost treats him like an owl… I’d feel bad if it wasn’t for the creepy obsession with my mum.’

 

 

“Some… some skank!” Hermione began, widening the eyes of everyone in the room with Hermione’s language, “- tried to use a Rube Goldberg machine to drug Harry!”  

 

Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, Ron, Sirius, and Remus all looked confused at one another at the term Hermione used.  Somehow of all the people - it was Snape to explain it.  “A muggle term for an overly-convoluted device using several steps to achieve something.”  He said with his deadpan drawl.  

 

“Right right, Severus can you identify the potion used?  I understand Miss Granger has a conclusion, but best to ask an expert.” The headmaster said with a nod.

 

Snape huffed, swiping the vial off Dumbledore’s desk and sniffing it.  The greasy teacher recoiled.  “Exactly as Granger deduced.  Amortentia.”

 

Needless to say, Sirius and Remus were beyond pissed and if it wasn’t for the three staff members Sirius would’ve likely gone back to Azkaban. ‘At least he would’ve actually been guilty that time around.’  Harry groaned, staring at the two uncles who were currently bound by rope in chairs whilst they calmed down.  

 

Remus had tried to give some sort of speech about knowing the horrors of half-breed life and how Harry needed better protection.

 

——————————————————————

 

 

Harry didn’t understand the half-breed bit, but he sure as shit agreed on extra security.  The boy-who-lived was drudging down the Hogwarts Dungeons with a destination in mind, one he never thought he’d actually use.

 

Pushing open the door to what was an unused classroom, and now thanks to the Slytherins, a full-on aftermarket shop where most students got items you couldn’t buy at Hogsmeade.  Inside the room was a whole office of students collecting and busying paperwork, boxes of different items, and inventory.

 

As Harry walked in, all of the shuffling business stopped and the Slytherins stared at him with surprise.  ‘Thank god it's not the usual stares.’  He huffed, trying to ignore the angrier ones from people like Marcus Flint.  

 

In the front of the class was a teacher’s desk, with a sign reading ‘place orders here’ and behind it sat two of Harry’s biggest rivals: Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy.  Flanking them was Crabbe and Goyle, wearing sunglasses to hide their eyes and suits over their fat frames.

 

Harry pulled out the chair in front of his rivals, sitting down like it was some sort of mafia meeting.

 

“Ahem… gentlemen… Parkinson.”

 

That seemed to snap the ringleaders out of their stupor, shaking their heads like they were flinging thoughts away.  Draco took a big swig of an unknown drink beside him.

 

“Potter, can’t say we ever expected you here.” The blonde probed, raising an eyebrow and trying to desperately avoid eye-contact.

 

“Well you have pretty good reviews, if my classmates are being honest.”

 

Pansy nodded, clasping her hands.  “We offer good service for good money, Potter.  Personal issues always take the backseat to business.”

 

Behind her, a young Astoria Greenhouse caught Harry’s eye and waved happily - like an over-caffinated kid - before Lily Moon appeared and dragged Astoria off.

 

Draco was practically drowning himself in his drink till Pansy flicked his ear.  “Right!  Yeah, no personal issues…”  The blonde looked visibly ill, but nodded nontheless.  

 

“Well now that that’s settled.  I need a taser.”

 

The two purebloods stared for a second, then at each other with a silent conversation.  Draco turned back, his blonde eyebrow practically in his hairline.

“A what now?”

 

“Muggle device, it has two metal points and you zap people with electricity.  For self-defense, ya know.”

 

“Elect-what?”  Pansy asked, leaning in on the table.  Harry looked at Malfoy to avoid seeing down her shirt.

 

“It’s kind of like lightning.  Long story short: it zaps people who get too close to you.”

 

Draco nodded, seemingly appreciating the idea of lightning zapping people.  

 

“A… form of payment can be arranged.”  The blonde said, his cheeks red as he muttered something else to Pansy.  Harry could swear he heard ‘sharing him’ in there, but he shrugged it off.  ‘Obviously they shared their orders, right?’  Pansy blushed too once Draco was done speaking to her.  

 

“Right, so do I pay now or-“

 

“We accept payment on successful delivery, not a moment sooner.  It ensures our operations’ quality.”  Pansy remarked, back to her business-like tone.  

 

“Crabbe, Goyle, accompany our fine client to the door.”

 

The two beefy students nodded, on either side of Harry as the Gryffindor left the room.  Neither one spoke, but Goyle crunched something, and looking over, Harry saw he was trying to discretely eat a chip while maintaining his aura.

 

——————————————————————

 

Daphne Greenhouse was actively scheming with her best friend Tracy Davis as they walked through Hogwarts.  At the top of the moving staircases, Daphne was lost in thought until Tracy put her arm out in front of the blonde and stopped her.  Looking up, Daphne gasped as she saw the two french students opposite the pair.  The same skank that’d been after their Harry and a tiny clone. They stared, from across the hall until Daphne pulled her wand.  The other three followed suit, frantically aiming at the opposing set of ladies.  

“She’s invented cloning technology Daph!”  Tracey tried to subtly hiss, “If she gets any more of them we’ll be overrun!”

 

A red jet of light whizzed between Daphne and Tracy, looking over at Gabrielle who glared at them with fury in her eyes.  Daphne threw up a shield charm whilst Tracy spammed her favorite blasting and exploding curses at the French women.  

 

The hallway above the stairs was crumbling.  Walls and roof alike turning into falling debris that Fleur quickly transfigured into cover or banishing it entirely.  

 

The Beauxbaton seventh-year was casting and working faster than the other three in their 2-versus-2, fire offensive spells at the Slytherins whilst shielding her little sister.  

 

A stray rock fell from the ceiling, bonking Fleur on the head and making the witch fall in a heap on the floor.  Gabrielle screeched and shot a depulso at Tracy, and promptly knocked the witch against the wall.  

 

Daphne glanced to check on her best friend and by the time Daphne turned back to her opponent a tiny veela was tackling her to the ground.

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry was having a pretty good day.  Other than the craziness of that contraption and his bed, it had been uneventful.  The Crew (trademark pending in Wizarding Britain); minus one Neville since he was at the dorm watering his favorite plant, and with the surprising plus-two of Cho and Cedric, was in the prefect’s bath working on the champions’ eggs.  

 

Considering they had Hermione there, it took less than five minutes and the rest was just the six of them hanging out.  Ron and Hermione were arguing about Ron eating a sandwich in the bath, which he got earlier when Harry had snuck them out of the castle to show Ron’s pureblood ass what a Subway sandwich is, needless to say Ron is just as fanatical about muggles as his dad now.

 

Whilst Hermione and Ron bickered over the cleanliness of bath-sandwiches, Harry and Viktor sat in comfortable silence contemplating the second task until they were ready to go.  

 

Cho and Cedric sat cuddling each other, even with Cho having to bonk Cedric on his head when the glossy stare would take over and he’d drool.  He was mostly keeping it together by being across the pool from the others, and having so many distractions kept Diggory sane.

 

Luna peeked in, for just a moment to eye Cedric and scribble on her clipboard before skipping off again.

——————————————————————

 

Meanwhile, Susan was practically dragging one half-compliant Hannah up to Gryffindor tower.  

 

“Please release me.”

 

“Nope, you’re integral to the plan and Puffs stick together.”

 

“Susie, when I was sorted I did not consent to helping you get a boyfriend.”

 

“Hannah if you love me you’ll help!”

 

Hannah just sighed, losing the verbal battle.  Arriving at the Fat Lady’s painting, Susan smiled innocently before pulling a gun on the painting, who wisely opened to the dismay of Hannah.

 

“Yes!  Harry here we come!”

 

“Here you come, not me.  I have eyes on another Gryffindork boy… wait where’d you get a firearm?”

 

“My aunt’s the head of magical law, take a wild guess.”

 

Susan promptly ignored any other protests from her BFF, dragging her past the confused Gryffindors and up to the fourth year boys’ dorm.  Boldly walking straight in, Susan smiled.

 

“Harry my love I have a gift for you!”  Susan yelled, yanking the shirt off one humiliated and irritated Hannah.

 

When nothing happened, and it was pure silence except for an awkward cough, Susan looked around.  The only occupant was one Neville Longbottom on his bed.  

 

“Oh… sorry Neville, that was for someone else.”

 

Neville just nodded along, turning back to his Herbology book before Hannah strutted up with a predatory smirk.  She tossed his book aside, and grabbed the front of his robe.

 

“You get going Susie, this worked out so much better than I’d hoped.”

 

Susan blushed, closing the door behind her and scurrying off back to the Hufflepuff dorms.

 

——————————————————————

 

Leaving the Prefects’ Bath, the group were wandering away to their separate destinations.  Harry and Hermione went up to the stairs and happened upon the remnants of pure chaos.  

 

Bits of stone were everywhere, with black scorch marks of Tracy’s signature spells all over the west side.  On the east was a panting, sweating and furious tiny veela straddling one unconscious Daphne Greengrass.  The duo quickly noted Fleur and Tracy’s sprawn-out bodies too as they stared.  Hermione rushed over to Tracy whilst Harry hurried to Gabrielle and Daphne.

 

Harry put his hand over Daphne’s chest, making sure she was breathing with a sigh of relief. 

 

“Tracy’s okay!”

 

“So is Daphne.”

 

Hermione nodded, then paused as she whirled her head around.  “Gabrielle did you do-“ The bushy-haired muggleborn paused, looking over and seeing Harry and Gabrielle were both gone.

 

——————————————————————

 

On the opposite end of the Hogwarts grounds, Jaune Delacour got a sudden shiver of dread whilst he walked with his wife.

 

“Honey, our lovely daughters did the thing ‘e told zem explicitly not to.”

 

“Tsk, in broad daylight again.  Zey never learn.”

 

“Zat’s your concern?!”

Chapter 5: Harry’s Fed Up with Kidnappers

Summary:

I have zero clue what the plot is anymore

Harry was no longer having a good day.  The urge to scream at the universe for it was too great, nonetheless he couldn’t remove the duct tape (and what witch uses duct tape?).  ‘WE WERE SO CLOSE TO ACTUALLY GETTING THROUGH IT.  ONE DAMN DAY IS ALL I ASK!  WHY ART THOU SO CRUEL?’ He mentally lamented, wallowing in anguish.  

 

So here he was, one moment everything was grand and the next a tiny veela (who was somehow his age, if the violent-drooling-groping-crazy-bitc- ahem, Fleur’s simping ramblings were to be believed) had a potion in her mouth and promptly smushed her lips on his to force it into his throat - and thus he collapsed and woke up here.  Wherever that is.

 

The black-haired and scarred boy was left tied up laying on a bed in a room filled with ungodly amounts of baby-blue and white.  Harry groaned, realizing that it was either the Beauxbatons Carriage (the good option for him) or a student’s house (really bad for him, France sucks).  

 

He could barely see a window out of the corner of his eye, making him roll over to try and see and- “FUCK” he screeched as he fell off the bed and hit the cold marble-tile floor.  At least he could see it was dark outside the window, probably midnight.

 

“Non!  Non non non!”  A high-pitched voice angrily called out from his side.  Craning his neck, Harry could see the very same crazy-kidnapping veela.  Nearly half a foot shorter, seeing her angrily pout and crossing her arms almost made him laugh. 

 

She was wearing pajamas with birds all over them as she strolled over, frowning like he’d offended her.  “Tu are not to leave ze bed, mon ‘Arry!”

 

Harry blinked as the tiny woman threw him over her shoulder like he was a bag of flour, and dumped him right back where he’d woken up.  The boy-who-lived sighed heavily, squirming a bit as the veela stared.  

 

She huffed, and promptly laid on top of him.  “Non moving, mon cherì.  I ‘ill pin you down, with rope next time if ‘ou do not be’ave.”

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry had woken up after the veela left, rolling off the bed with sneaky determination as he scooted across the room like a caterpillar.  Reaching the window, he had to heave himself up by placing his chin on the windowsill just to peak out.  

 

He needed to get Hermione one hell of a Christmas gift, like a house-level gift at this point.  Looking out the window Harry could see Hermione (in SWAT gear of all things) with Ron and an angry mob of pissed-off Hogwarts witches, whilst Fleur and her family (oh so it actually is her sister) tried to deny and calm the crowd.  

 

It didn’t work at all for the French.  Hermione shouted something along the lines of ‘HANDS OFF MY BROTHER,’ muffled by the window and hit Fleur in the crotch with a nightstick.  Her shriek and collapse to the ground almost made Harry sympathize with the creepy woman.  The parents wisely stepped aside, whilst a tiny and viscerally angry Gabrielle  tried to whip out her wand; only to be stunned by a vengeful Daphne. 

 

——————————————————————

 

Everyone involved with the actual violence (probably so Mcgonagal and Snape didn’t have to punish half the school) was gathered in the headmaster’s office.  Daphne and Tracey (the latter only there to support her woman), Ron and Hermione, and the Delacours along with some of Hogwarts’ staff.

 

Harry sat with his head in his hands whilst Hermione glared at the Delacours with a face nearly resembling Bellatrix Lestrange in one of her manic episodes.  

 

Even Dumbledore looked fed up.  “Due to the circumstances, Harry’s guardians need to be called in again.”  He said with a clear droop in his voice from exasperation.  

 

Fleur sneered like she’d been wronged whilst Gabrielle’s face was the color of blood.  The younger veela hissed with every breath and looked ready to avada half the castle.  

 

The floo ignited with emerald flames as Remus and Sirius stepped in, making the unaware Delacours cower at the ‘mass murderer.’  

 

“Isn’t ‘e a killer?!”  Appoline squeaked out.

 

“No but I’m about to be.”  Sirius hissed out, grumbling and fuming.  Remus had apparently wisely confiscated Sirius’ wand and had it along with his own out and pointed towards the French family.  

 

“Sirius Black, godfather of one Harry James Potter, is unfortunately innocent.”  Snape begrudgingly muttered out.  

 

“Right-“ Sirius clapped his hands together with a falsely sweet smile, “-who’s dying?… wait what do you mean ‘unfortunately?!’”

 

“No one is dying or murdering today, Sirius, my boy.”  Dumbledore quickly interrupted,  “The circumstances of the two Miss Delacours’… infatuation are going to be prevented in the future.”

 

“So you’re not punishing the kidnapper, who’s likely the same one who broke into Harry’s dorm, and the woman who groped my adopted-nephew?”  Remus asked, raising an eyebrow at Dumbledore like the werewolf was debating calling a nursing home for the old man.

 

“We will keep them away from Harry.  It’s not like we can blame them given Harry’s circumstances.”  Dumbledore said with a small shake of his head.

 

“Yet everyone else in this castle can control themselves.  At least so they don’t molest him.”  Hermione spat out, huffing and crossing her arms.  

 

At that moment, a thick grey canister rolled into the office and sprayed smoke everywhere.  Harry felt two hands grab him and covered his mouth before he was dragged off again.

 

——————————————————————

 

At least this time he wasn’t bound.  The room was entirely dark except for a single muggle light aimed at his face, and a table sat in front of him with two chairs.

 

Two men suddenly strolled into the room, across the table from him.

 

“I dare say Fre- my friend, that that was too easy.”

 

“Right you are Geor- my friend.”

 

“You two do realize you’re the only people I know who talk like that, right?”  Harry deadpanned, at the very-obvious-but-hidden-in-shadows Weasley twins.

 

“Stick in the mud Harry - or is it ‘Arry now?”

 

“I do keep hearing the latter from those blonde birds, Fred.”

 

“Right so you’re George,” Harry deadpanned at the first one who spoke.  “And you’re Fred.”

 

“He knows us a bit too well.”

 

“A liability for certain.”

 

“Can’t get rid of the bugger though, mum’d go ballistic.”

 

“Very well, sorry ‘Arry,” George said, mocking the veela’s accent of his name, “We gotta turn you over to our boss.  Paid a bloody fortune for us to nab you before you got outta that meeting.”

 

With that, Fred raised his wand and stunned Harry.

 

——————————————————————

 

“Rennerverate.” A female voice casted.

 

“IF I GET KIDNAPPED ONE MORE FUCKING TIME SO HELP ME GOD I’M LIGHTING THE PUBES OF EVERYONE IN THE CASTLE ON FIRE!”

 

“Nice to meet you too, Heir Potter.” An older man replied, his voice betraying a lot of humor over Harry’s words.

 

Blinking and actually looking around, Harry silently cursed.  This time he was definitely off Hogwarts grounds.  Curse the Weasley Twins and their optimized chaos.

 

It was definitely an office, probably a manor, considering the Davises and Greengrasses were sitting across from him.  ‘I almost miss Gabrielle but I think that’s just the stockholm syndrome talking.’

 

“Good evening Mister Potter, we’re here to give you a proposition.”  The woman standing beside Tracey said, looking down at him with beady brown eyes as she slid three pieces of parchment across the table.  

 

Harry stared at the papers and looked up, blinking once as he waited for them to admit to the joke.  “Okay this is a bit over the top, you want me to sign a marriage contract?!”

 

“Three.”  Lady Greengrass said with a foreboding smirk that made Harry shiver.

 

“Why is Astoria even one of them?!  She doesn’t stalk me like Tracey and Daphne!”

 

“I’m too busy searching for unicorns, I’ll stalk you after I see one!”  Astoria said with a big smile, blinking rapidly whilst her mom raised an eyebrow at her and Harry gawked.

 

“So…” Harry began, eyeing the different parents.  They eyed him back like pieces of meat, not that their daughters were any better.  Daphne, DAPHNE ‘ICE QUEEN’ GREENGRASS OF ALL PEOPLE was smiling and bearing her teeth.  ‘That’s creepy as fuck.’  Harry mused, sucking in his lip and grimacing.  

 

A hand grabbed Harry by the shirt, pulling him into the table as Tracey’s grip forced him to stare at her.  Their foreheads touched and she smiled: “Ahem, SIGN IT!”

 

Harry definitely totally did not squeak in fear and cower in his chair from the explosive Slytherin.  There is not a single witness who’ll tell you he fell back so hard the chair toppled over and he landed on the floor with his wand rolling out from his sleeve.

 

“…Wait a minute you guys left my wand on me?”

 

Lady Greengrass nodded, “Well of course we did.  This isn’t a hostage situation.  More like a business arrangement.”

 

“Good.  That makes this so much easier.”

 

Needless to say, you do NOT piss off Harry James Fucking (legally pending middle name, Amelia Bones seemed to think his request was a prank) Potter and leave his wand on him.  The Greengrass/Davis group found out the hard way as he strolled out from the library, leaving behind plenty of scorched clothes and first degree burns from firing incendio and confringo on anyone and everyone.

 

’Maybe Hermione has a point, fire spells are wickedly overpowered for me.  But if I was a damn bird-brain why would no one just ask me out?’

Back in Hogwarts, Scotland, Hermione had the sudden urge to scream and throw something.  Which she did, lobbing her entire cauldron at Ron.  It was quite therapeutic.

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry got back to Hogwarts by holding one of Daphne’s house elves at wand-point and forcing him to apparate him back.  

 

Despite the staff trying to stop and question him on his whereabouts, the boy-who-has-a-bunch-of-stalkers just flipped each and every one of them off before collapsing on his bed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6: Hadriana Potter (for science)

Summary:

I don’t even know who or if I’m pairing Harry up with. I might take a vote on it, so let me know how you feel.

“I’ve got an idea, don’t ask questions.”  Harry said, with a definite edge to let Hermione know he wasn’t making exceptions.

 

“Too bad,” Lavender said from her bed.  “Why’re you in our dorm and why’s Luna here?”  Lavender huffed, seeing as Parvarti had to keep hitting her to snap Lavender out of the allure.

 

“Science!”  Luna exclaimed, nodding rapidly and scribbling on the clipboard.  Again, without paper.

 

“I put some thought into your theory, Hermione.”  Harry said with a begrudging tone.  He’d barely been able to sleep right with the worries of crazy kidnapping women, and being constantly pestered in the halls - or in Ginny and Romilda’s case - the common room.

 

Hermione perked up, smiling brightly the same way she did when a teacher handed her back an EE-graded paper (which was all of them, to the irritation of everyone else).

 

“Finally!”

 

“I didn’t say you were right!  But I’ve got an idea to test it.”

 

“Go on…” Partvarti said, raising an eyebrow.  Harry dreaded this idea, but Hermione and the two gossip queens were his best bet (assuming Hermione was right).

 

“So this whole male veela thing is only so important because it's a boy right?  Since women haven’t been exposed to veela… practically ever the allure’s effect is stronger?”

 

Hermione hummed for a moment as she thought, putting her quill in her mouth before nodding.  “Seems logical.”

 

“Good, then I need you three to make me look like a woman so the girls ignore me for a day.”

 

Lavender and Parvarti grinned in a way that made Harry dread his existence.

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry, (or Hadriana for the day, as Lavender had come up with) sat at his normal seat and glanced around.  Not a single girl seemed to notice him yet.  The-boy-looking-like-the-girl-who-lived couldn’t help but pump his fist in celebration.  It wasn’t a lot, just one of Hermione’s uniforms (no offense to her, but she was the flattest), with Lavender and Partvati doing makeup and tidying his short hair into something resembling a girl’s haircut.

 

“Who’s the bird, ‘Mione.”  Ron asked with a sausage halfway down his throat and somehow managed to speak.

 

“Shush Ronald.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, mate.”

 

Ron leaned in, glancing around like he was afraid of spies.  “Harry?”

 

“I’ll explain later.”

 

“Actually I kinda get it.  Women wouldn’t pay attention to a woman unless they’re into that, yeah?”  Harry and Hermione blinked, staring at him.  ‘What the hell is going on and since when does Ron think?’

 

——————————————————————

 

The plan was working absurdly well.  Hermione had raised the issue of boys taking interest, but it wasn’t like that in the slightest, well they did, but they seemed to be placated via exposure to Fleur and Gabrielle since the school year started.

 

None of them did anything besides look and come over to talk, which Harry (Hadriana) quickly spurned.

 

Until that git figured it out.

 

Snape had asked him to stay behind after potions.  Putting up a privacy charm, the greasy teacher raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Do explain yourself, mister Potter.”

 

Hadriana gulped, and in his best feminine voice (literally just a shitty impression of Lavender), said: “No clue what or who you mean, sir.”

 

“Right… if you seek to not have to humiliate yourself - and by proximity and second-hand embarrassment - me, you would do well to learn the basics of Occlumency.”

 

“Occlumency, sir?”  Harry responded, dropping all pretenses of being a girl.  Snape nodded back.

 

“A mind art to block intrusions and unwanted emotions.  It allows one to manipulate their own mind to their will.  I suspect it's how veela turns down the allure when they will it so, or you’re just incompetent and haven’t tried to fix your problem.”

 

Harry frowned, he’d almost thanked Snape before that last comment hit the boy-dressed-like-a-girl.

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry had spent five hours straight in the Hogwarts library, looking over every single book Madam Pince would give him on Occlumency.  He skipped lunch, and casting a tempus charm saw it was nearly curfew.

 

Two figures came up and sat on either side of him, making Harry’s stomach drop.  ‘It was going so well!’  He lamented in mental horror.

 

“Ahem, hello new student.  We don’t normally do this but you’re quite exceptional.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked over, Pansy sat on his left and Draco on his right.  Pansy had tried to initiate conversation.

 

“Right, nice to meet you both.”

 

“Nice to meet you too, miss…?”  Draco began, taking Hadriana’s dainty hand (he was malnourished as a kid, sue him), and kissing the back of it.  Harry almost laughed out loud at that.

 

“Hadriana.  Nice to meet you too, Malfoy.”  Harry said, accompanied by his usual venom towards the blonde’s name.

 

The two Slytherins recognized the tone, gasping aloud and staring star-struck at Harry.

 

“What’s this about?!”  Draco hissed, looking him over before blushing.

 

“Not that he - nor I - are complaining.”  Pansy finished, raising an eyebrow and smirking.  ‘… oh dear god, of course these two would be into that.’

 

“I got kidnapped twice yesterday.  Thrice if you count the hand-off the Weasley twins did for the Greengrasses and Davises.”

 

Draco and Pansy at least had the decency to look alarmed, even if it was for their own selfish wanting of him.

 

“Right, well while we’re here I’ve got your order.”  Pansy said with a nod, handing him a store-brand taser.  Harry clung to it like it was a divine relic, his salvation at last!

 

“So… about that payment.”  Pansy started, placing her hand on Harry’s - or Hadriana’s - thigh.

 

“I’m not having sex with you for a taser.”  Harry deadpanned back to the brunnette.

 

“Oh no, not like that.  We want a date, just one guaranteed, and yes with both of us.”  Draco amended.

 

“Sounds like my Saturday is going to be a nightmare given shape, but fine, just one.”

 

Pansy smiled as Harry got up to leave.  She called at him: “Oh by the way, when we’re dating you will be dressing like that again you delectable little thing.”

 

——————————————————————

 

“Lemme get this straight,” Neville said, facepalming as Ron, Dean and Seamus listened.  They were back in the boys dorm whilst Ron was trying to figure out how to undo Lavender’s braiding on Harry.  “Parkinson and Malfoy are demanding payment in the form of a date?”

 

“Yep.”  Harry deadpanned, wincing as Ron pulled a tug of hair.

 

“Honestly I’m more surprised about it soundin’ like Pansy wears the pants between the two of ‘em.”  Seamus said, shrugging as he got into his pajamas.

 

“I’m surprised they didn’t just kidnap you.  Dad says Malfoy Manor has genuine dungeons… I don’t wanna know what Mister and Missus Malfoy do with them.”  Ron commented with a shudder.

 

“Well no one’s kidnapping me again, that’s why I have this!”  Harry said smugly, showing off the new taser with a zap of the trigger.

 

“… holy shit we gotta zap ourselves.”  Dean said.

 

“Why would we do that?”  Neville shot back, worried.  “I don’t wanna have to tell Hannah I did something that dumb.”

 

“Then don’t tell her and don’t be a baby.  It’s a just zap, and we’re guys, we’re obligated to test a taser on ourselves when we see one.”

 

“Harry’s less of a guy now until he gets that skirt off.”  

 

Harry glared, making the arguers cow and shut up. Skirt or not Harry was the best duelist, and terrifying when he wanted to set things on fire.

 

”Oh right, by the way Harry.  Percy wrote to me today with some inside Ministry information… there’s going to be a school ball for Christmas.”  Ron said, wincing in sympathy as the color drained from Harry’s face.

 

”FUCK!”

Chapter 7: Closet Catastrophe

Summary:

I wrote this the same day as six, because six is kinda lacking.

As far as polling goes:
Daphe: 1
Fleur, Grabber of Asses: 1
Romilda: 1

The worst way to start a morning in the Gryffindor dorms was to hear Seamus had an idea

 

“Lads, I've got an idea.”

 

“NO!”  Came the instant, experienced voices of Harry, Ron, Neville, and Dean.  

 

“Hear it out first, would ya?”  Seamus huffed, acting like his past five ideas didn’t always involve explosives or alcohol becoming explosive.

 

“Fine, we’ll hear it before telling you no again.”  Dean deadpanned, shrugging.

 

“Right so the Yule Ball’s gonna be announced today if ma’ dad is right, so Harry’s gonna be in hell.”

 

“Thank you for the reminder, dickhead.”  Harry said with a voice more akin to being told it was his death sentence.

 

“Hold on now.  The idea is simple: we stash traps for the… less than polite suitors, when they don’t take no for an answer.”

 

“… I can’t believe I’m saying this but that’s not half bad.”  Ron said with a begrudging nod.

 

“We don’t have that kind of time or supplies though, we can’t cover the whole bloody castle.”  Neville pointed out.

 

“We know two fellas who certainly can though!”  Harry exclaimed.  “Ron, do your brothers owe you any favors?”

 

“They owe me for covering their arses twice over the summer.  So if we go to them we’ll owe ‘em down the line but I reckon it's worth it.”

 

With that, the five fourth-years rushed out of their dorm to go find the notorious Fred and George.

 

——————————————————————

 

“Booby trap the entire castle for two weeks so some crazy birds don’t harm our honorary - and favorite - little brother?”

 

“I dare say Fred this comes up Weasley no matter what.”

 

“I concur, George.”

 

“We’ll do it!”  They said together.

 

“… wait a fuckin’ minute whatdaya mean he’s your favorite little brother?!”  Ron spat out at the retreating figures of the twins as they rushed out of the hallway with smirks on their faces and conspiratorial whispers on the duo’s lips.

 

——————————————————————

 

The twins were done before lunch.  No one knew how, and they didn’t even have the marauders’ map anymore.  

 

The identical gingers swooped in to sit with Harry’s usual group, sitting on either side like bouncers whilst Hermione, Neville, Ron, and Viktor sat across.  

 

“Every broom closet in the castle is now rigged with a special surprise for those unwavering sycophants.”  George said proudly.

 

“In each and every one is a simple red button, just have the bold and brash bird stand on the right side of the closet with yourself on the left.”  Fred explained.

 

“On the left’s a big ol’ red button just like the muggles use, nifty little things dad told us about.”

 

“One press and a custom Weasley punishment will be delivered with our divine wrath on its lips.”

 

“What is the trap exactly?”  Hermione inquired, raising an eyebrow at the two and glaring pretty harshly.  ‘Hermione’s a bit of a hypocrite to be on the Weasley’s for breaking rules, compared to the shit we get away with.’  Harry monologued in his head.

 

“Oh ho ho!”

 

“Nothing too much.”

 

“But every single closet-“

 

“Is a different trap.”

 

“No two are quite the same.”

 

“Not one will have a fluke.”

 

“Weasley guarantee!”  The pair finished together.

 

“… I shiver in fear at the idea of some alternate reality where you two were put in Slytherin.”  Ron said.

 

With that, lunch ended, and the group along with their year was summoned to the Transfiguration Room for ‘announcements.’  Harry comprehended that as ‘certain doom.’

 

——————————————————————

 

“With the Triwizard Tournament, comes a great annual tradition with it: The Yule Ball.”  McGonagal began.  

 

“The Yule Ball is a lovely and elegant event.  A dance of which the three schools will participate in, no exceptions.”

 

Harry could already feel the eyeballs on him, making him pull his robe over his head and hide inside it whilst Hermione moved to stand in front of him like the protective older sister she is.

 

“Dress robes are a requirement, however the Ministry has allowed muggle clothes of equal or greater formality.  To quote our… esteemed minister: ‘male dress robes are damn ugly.’”

 

“Now, Mister Weasley, please come up here and demonstrate a dance suitable for the ball.”

 

“And Mister Potter, I’m sure I needn’t remind you that champions are required to have dates and perform the opening dance with your fellow champions.”

 

Not even Ron’s public humiliation for being forced to dance with a seventy year old witch and professor could save Harry’s mood… it definitely helped though, and he was definitely going to rewatch the memory later.

 

——————————————————————

 

An hour later, Harry had remained unacosted by hiding up in the Astronomy tower.  It sat mostly empty until evening, so it made for an easy hideout.  Probably the best option until Harry was desperate enough to go back into the Chamber of Secrets.

 

“Harry!”  

 

Whipping his head around at the voice, Harry physically relaxed as he saw Viktor making it up the stairs.

 

“Phew… moment please, Durmstrang… does not have dat many steps.”

 

Harry chuckled softly, watching the star Quidditch player huff and collect himself.

 

“Okay, am ready.  Harry I -er.  I ‘vant your permission to take ‘Ermione to da ball.”

 

Harry blinked, ‘well dang, didn’t expect that one.’  

 

“You don’t really need my permission for-“

 

“Da, I’m aware, but you two are quite close.  I am also going to ask da Ronald’s permission as well.”

 

The Bulgarian said with a determined nod.

 

“Well… no clue how Ron’ll react, but you’ve got my blessing for it mate - oh, and treat her right or I’ll shove my wand up against your junk and scream ‘incendio,’ are we clear?”

 

The Durmstrang seventh year shuddered, nodding quickly and hurrying away down the steps.

 

——————————————————————

 

The Weasley twins were Harry’s idols, his Gods possibly.  Eighteen girls had already approached, mostly unknown foreign students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.  Every time he just led the overjoyed woman to a closet and smashed the button like it owed him money.

 

Millicent Bulstrode fake-apologizing for being an asshole to him and Hermione just to get a date?  Broom closet number one dropped a heavy bag of nickels on her head.

 

An unknown older Durmstrang woman tried to forcefully pull him away from his friends?  Her robes were permanently changing colors and playing some insanely upbeat hyperactive Japanese song.

 

The one in the Astronomy tower was themed after its location: Harry watched with growing concern as a supernova enveloped half the closet.  The Hogwarts third year girl who offered him a ‘snack’ that totally didn’t reek of Amortentia was expected to be in Madam Pomphrey’s care for weeks.

 

An older Beauxbatons girl was stuck falling between two open portals, one on the ceiling and blue, whilst the other on the floor was orange and had her falling semi-permanently.  It took Professor Dumbledore himself to cast a strong enough Arresto Momento to actually stop the girl’s descent.

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry was feeling pretty good.  The scheme was working beyond what he’d dared to hope, but the amount of closets would run thin.  ‘-If the girls don’t wise up before then.’

 

Like he’d spoken it into existence, two girls appeared from around a corner and blocked the hall ahead of him.

 

Both wore Slytherin robes and were identical, sporting brunette hair down to their shoulders and grey eyes.  The twins blinked in sync and spoke perfectly synchronized, versus how Fred and George alternated.

 

“Hello Harry, wonderful day we’re having.  Truly dark and brooding to match your internal anguish.”

 

“Oh hi, um, Carrow, right?  Hestia and Flora?”

 

The twins stared at him, then back to each other, then him again.

 

“He knows of us.  We didn’t anticipate such.”

 

“I’ve uh, heard of you two.  We’re classmates after all.”

 

“Indeed.  We’ve come to offer you something.”

 

Harry sighed, expecting where this was going and just raising a skeptical eyebrow.

 

“No one will ask us to the dance.  They typically call us creepy, and we are a package deal.  Our offer is simple: accompany us to the ball, no expectations of more, and we will… dissuade your suitors.”

 

“I… will think on it, thank you, but I don’t think you could stop some of these people.”

 

“Oh we can.”

 

They said, nodding.  The twins smiled creepily like they were plotting a murder as they pulled twin kitchen knives from their robes, one white and one black.  

 

“Give us an answer soon.”

 

With that they turned back and rounded the corner, and by the time Harry reached it himself there was no sign the Carrows had been there at all.

 

——————————————————————

 

Of all the things for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to investigate, it was the broom closets.  Not the bewitched Goblet of Fire, not the harassment or groping.  The closets.  

 

Which is why Harry was now sat in an empty classroom the DMLE had temporarily set up shop in, leaving only three chairs and a table between them.  On the table sat a bright lamp and some blank parchment.

 

Aurors had promptly found him and demanded he follow, so here he sat in the chair farthest from the door.  The other two chairs were across the table.  ‘There’s no way half of this is even legal.’  Harry noted, remembering a rant on legal processes Hermione had research back with the Sirius Black debacle last year.  Granted Harry had half-tuned Hermione out at the time.  Harry also made a mental note to talk to his godfather more, god knows the lonely guy and himself could both use it.

 

The classroom/interrogation room door finally opened, and Harry’s jaw dropped as he saw one of the two figures enter.  

 

“Susan I swear to god if this is over the dance.”

 

The redhead student at least had the decency to look guilty and look at the floor.  Her aunt on the other hand just glared viciously.  

 

“While I’m sure Susan has… personal motivation for suddenly wanting to watch my work Mister Potter, I’m here on Ministry business.”

 

“Well that’s good, because you’re a bit old for me.”

 

“I AM STILL VERY BREEDABLE I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW!”

 

Harry gawked, and even Susan looked over at her aunt and guardian with confusion written on the younger redhead’s face.

 

“Ahem, apologies Mister Potter.  You’ve simply hit a nerve of mine.  You would do well to avoid it in the future, are. we. clear?

 

Harry had never nodded faster and more vigorously in his entire life.

 

“Good, so I’d like to make it quite clear you’re not in trouble-“

 

“Unless you’re into that-“ Susan cut in.  “Because I can sure as shit spank you for it.”

 

“Susan Bones you watch your fucking language when I’m working!”

 

“Yes auntie, sorry auntie.”

 

“Now.  No trouble, but the DMLE has to investigate it regardless of the fact no genuine harm has occurred since it has involved foreign students under our jurisdiction.”

 

“… so it's just Minister Fudge pretending to give a shit?”  Harry asked.  “And isn’t supernova-girl hospitalized?”

 

“Pretty much, and yes but it’s minor.” Amelia admitted.

 

“I honestly would rather take up Susan’s spanking offer than deal with his bullshit.”

 

“Is that a yes?”  Susan perked up, leaning over the table.  Her aunt promptly pulled the girl back and glared.

 

“Mister Potter all of the victims of these closets detail being with you inside them before the… incidents occured.”

 

“Those fucking skanks put their hands on my boy!”  Susan practically hissed, her face redder than her hair as her fingers dragged against the wooden table.

 

“Susan, Mister Potter is a sentient person and does not belong to anyone… for better or worse.”

 

“-yet.”

 

“Right, as if you’d manage that.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean, auntie?!”

 

“It means why would he go for you?  I’m essentially an upgraded version of you.”

 

“Maybe because he isn’t into old hags!”

 

“THE TERM IS MILF THANK YOU VERY MUCH!”

 

“The term is saggy tits!”

 

“Oh please you’re just upset mine are larger.”

 

“You’re thirty years older than me. I sure hope they’re bigger.”

 

“Well maybe he just needs a more mature woman in his life versus the bickering schoolgirls he’s been stuck around.”

 

“Maybe he-“

 

Harry finally snapped, slamming his hands on the table and jumping up from his chair so fast it slid out from under him.  With a single flick his wand was out and pointed at the table as he screeched ‘CONFRINGO!’ in his derangement, and promptly leaped through the window behind him without a care for the glass or fall awaiting him.

 

——————————————————————

 

The good news is he was mostly okay, after Madam Pomphrey chewed him out and let him know it’d be two days of healing.  The bad news was the Weasley twins could only reset the Hospital Wing’s broom-closet-trap so many times and only so often.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8: Thermite and Confringo

Summary:

Current polls:
Daphne 1
Romilda 1
Carrow Twins 1
Both Boneses (idk either) 1
Fleur 1

I’ve noticed people seem to think the Carrows are the lesser evil. I plan on fixing that. :)

Hermione was outside sitting against her favorite tree with a book.  Half an hour before breakfast, she was enjoying her favorite pastime before the patented Harry-Potter-brand-chaos began.

 

She waved over as she spotted Ron and Neville approaching from the castle.  The lack of a certain boy-who-lived concerned her.

 

“Where’s Harry?”

 

“What am I, chopped liver?”  Ron pouted as Neville shrugged and just told her.  “He slept in.”

 

“So you left him alone with all this going on?”  Hermione asked, furrowing her brow and sighing.  She was just about to get up when it happened.

 

The glass of one of Gryffindor tower’s windows shattered, and two girls were thrown out with accompanying shrieks.  Ginny Weasley and Romilda Vane fell and splashed right into the Black Lake.  A voice, that was definitely Harry's, screamed after them: “I AM NOT TOLERATING THIS BULLSHIT IN THE SHOWER!”

 

“This is why we don’t leave Harry alone.” Hermione chided the two boys.

 

Slytherins would talk for days about how Ginny had hit their common room window, so it was an impressive accidental dive if you think about it.

 

——————————————————————

 

“Ahem, bonjour Monsieur ‘Arry-“

 

“If either of your daughters are here I won’t hesitate.”  Harry interrupted, already having drawn his wand.

 

Appoline and Jaune Delacour both paled at the blunt remark, Jaune nodding whilst Appoline gritted her teeth

 

“Non, zey are, as ze English say - grounded.”  Mister Delacour placated.

 

“Okay, so what’s this about?”  Harry asked, lowering his wand only slightly and narrowing his eyes at the Delacour parents.

 

“We-“ Jaune Delacour began.

 

“You.”  Apolline interrupted.

 

“-I would like to apologize for my daughters’ behavior toward ‘ou.  My wife is still stubborn, so I apologize on ‘er be’alf as well.”  The sighing man explained.

 

“I am not!  It is natural for veela, do you not remember we did the same at zer age?!”  Appline whipped around to face her husband.

 

“I was willing and it was consensual, Apolline ma cherì.”

 

“‘E would eventually consent!  We have plenty of rooms in ze chateau for ‘im to be comfortable while ze girls win ‘im over!”

 

“We’re not kidnapping ‘im.”  Jaune said with a definitive edge in his voice.  

 

“‘Arry be reasonable and come with us.”  Apolline huffed, looking back towards the boy.

 

“Mon amour, where did ‘Arry go?”

 

——————————————————————

 

Across the castle grounds, two girls were scheming.  A blonde and brunette snuck up to the Beauxbatons Carriage, wearing pure black robes to hide their house and hoods over their heads.

 

“You got the thing, T?”

 

“Got it right here, D.”

 

The brunette crept up to the door, placing a bundle of tinfoil and taping it to the door.  Her accomplice hissed out an ‘incendio’ once the pair were away from it.  The material burned, sending showers of sparks away from the door whilst the pair watched.

 

“T?”

 

“Yes, D?”

 

“Couldn’t we have just alohomora’d the door?”

 

“I suppose, but I thought the thermite fit our aesthetic better.”

 

“Tracey, where did you even learn to make thermite?!”

 

“My mum’s muggleborn; she taught me a bit of chemistry, and stick to the codenames Daphne!”

 

Eventually the thermite did burn the lock and handle off the door, letting Daphne and Tracey sneak inside the carriage.  They’d paid a very confused Beauxbatons girl five galleons to show them a map of the carriage, and with that knowledge they slipped into the laundry room unseen.  

 

A minute later they reemerged with matching baby-blue uniforms on, and their old ones stashed in Tracey’s purse.  The pair quickly set off towards the Beauxbatons champion’s room.

 

A quiet, hurried knock rang from the door as Gabrielle and Fleur were bored out of their minds being grounded.  Gabrielle had spent most of her time writing out insane plans to get Harry, including something called the ‘IRS’ as a failsafe.  Fleur had just been whining about how she was too old to be punished this way.

 

Gabrielle sighed and opened the door, looking like she’d been sleeping.  The two Hogwarts students hurried in, slamming the door behind them.  Daphne casted every privacy charm known whilst Tracey sealed the door frame with a black muggle product.

 

“What ze hell are you two doing ‘ere!  You’ve got a lot of nerve after ze duel.”  Fleur spat, pouting at them whilst Gabrielle scowled.

 

“First of all, didn't you technically win that?  And we want a truce.”  Daphne began, trying for diplomacy.

 

“A truce?”  The smaller veela echoed.

 

“More than that if you’re willing.”  Tracey added.

 

“Go on…”

 

“We work together for the Yule Ball.  Between the four of us, whoever gets him gets him, but one in four odds are far better than one in god-knows-how-many.”

 

“Give us a moment.”  Fleur said, turning to whisper into Gabrielle’s ear.  The pair of blonde French women nodded, turning right back to the Slytherins.

 

“‘E accept your proposal.  Now how do we begin?”

 

Daphne’s lips curled into a devious smirk.  ”We will be in touch ladies.”  Daphne remarked, casting a quite finite and pulling on the door.  

“Tracey get the black stuff off the door.”

 

“Uh… about that, you said you needed the door secured.”

 

”I recall.”

 

”I used FlexSeal.”

 

”What is that?”

 

”Muggle stuff, long story short that door isn’t gonna move anymore.”

 

“WE WENT THROUGH ALL THAT EFFORT TO HIDE EVIDENCE AND YOU TURNED A DOOR INTO A BLOODY FUCKING WALL?!”

 

——————————————————————

 

“So how’s your day going?”  Pansy asked, batting her eyes and putting on a sickly sweet voice.

 

“Two girls tried to perv on me in the shower, so you tell me.”  Harry deadpanned. 

 

Of all the days for Pansy and Draco to call in the favor for a date, it was today.  So here Harry was, stuck having lunch in Hogsmeade with two of his worst enemies in the entire school.  

 

“They tried to spy on you in the shower?!”  Draco gawked.  ‘At least he has some morals… as long as it isn’t towards a muggleborn.’

 

“Draco dear, remind me to have a talk with Professor Snape over the… privacy Hogwarts provides.”

 

“Yes, dear.”

 

Harry blinked, staring at Draco.  ‘Why the hell is he suddenly so… passive?’  

 

“So… how’s Quidditch practice, Malfoy?”  Harry asked, at least giving an effort.  

 

“Oh it’s-“

 

“Suboptimal, but it’s hardly Draco’s fault.  Between that shithead captain Flint and having to compete with Chang, Diggory, and you: Gryffindor’s savior; it’s a difficult task.”  Pansy interrupted, seemingly oblivious to how Draco sagged at it.

 

Harry leaned towards Malfoy, whispering: “dude does she have some blackmail on you or something?”

 

“Worse, she’s pretty much got me by the balls, Potter.”

 

“… I’ll make a distraction, just consider this my payment.”

 

Harry turned towards Pansy, putting an arm around her waist.  “So, what hobbies do you have?”

 

He didn’t listen to anything she explained, paying attention to the blonde slytherin sneaking away before Harry screamed ‘CONFRINGO’ and sprinting off himself.

 

——————————————————————

 

“I can’t catch a fucking break today.”

 

“Silence arsonist!”  Susan remarked back.

 

The redhead had found and bound him with an incarcerous curse just as he ran from the smoking pub. Only after levitating him away to an alley did she sit him upright.

 

“You know arson carries a heavy penalty, Mister Potter.”

 

“So does impersonating an auror… also what the bloody hell are you wearing?”  Harry gawked.  Susan was smugly smiling as she stood there, crossing her arms as if she wasn’t currently wearing a fake muggle police uniform that showed her stomach and was accompanied by a skirt.

 

“Like it?  I heard muggle law enforcement wear this.”

 

“… Susan, that’s from a Halloween store made for girls who go to parties trying to bone.”

 

Bones’ cheeks flushed at that, pivoting her foot in embarrassment.  “Well… its my name I reckon, how about we make that happen?”

 

“I can and will learn to cast confringo without a wand if you touch me in this alley… also I think you sat me on rotten food, my butt feels squishy.”

 

“Oh shut up criminal, you’ll like it.”  Susan huffed, stepping forward and placing her hand on Harry’s chest.  She began sliding it downward before a bright red light emitted from behind the girl.  Susan promptly fell over, and behind her was an older girl with pink hair and auror robes.

 

“Madam Bones is going to be even more bitchy than normal…” she muttered, stepping in.  “Alright, lets get you back to the castle.  What’s with all this drama anyways, you don’t seem like-“

 

Tonks stopped, blinking a few times as she got close to Harry.  “Okay, I get it now, but I’m on duty.  Finite!”  Harry sighed in relief as the rope went limp and he got to stand.  “I have never been happy to see a ministry employee before now.”

 

“Wotcher, and thanks but you’re going to have to file a report with Madam Bones over this.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t blame ya, kid.  I’d do her too.”

 

”Not like that damnit!”

 

 

 

Chapter 9: The Ball at Last

Summary:

This took a hot minute for me to write and hopefully it’s fun. I had some other story ideas I’ve been scheming too - lmk which sound fun.

1) Harry is basically a Disney Princess and befriends everyone

2) Delphini is the same age as Harry and goes from cartoonishly-bad assassin to yandere

3) All of the triwizard champions get stuck in a marriage contract and its basically a sitcom

4) Dumbledore sees how awful the Dursley’s are, adopts him as a grandson, and essentially has a tiny six year old as a teacher’s assistant around school causing antics.

A week after the events of his arson attempt.  Pansy still hadn’t regained her eyebrows from his confringo.  

 

————Three Days till the Yule Ball————

 

“So what is your account of the arson, Mister Potter?”  He was back in the fucking classroom with Amelia Bones.  Harry didn’t even bother to hide the twitching in his eye as she spoke.  

 

“I didn’t see anything, and Susan didn’t either if she knows what’s good for her.”

 

“Now wait a moment!”  A smug-ass Susan chirped back.  “I could swear a black-haired boy with a scar ran out after screaming ‘confringo.’”   As the redhead spoke, her wand shot out a flame of fire and blasted the wall as she let out an ‘eep!’

 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the clumsy redhead’s misfortunate, especially under her aunt’s vicious glare.  

 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Susan, do you want to go to the ball with me?”  

 

Both of the redheads spun around to gawk at him, much to his irritation.  

 

A moment passed, then two, then Harry started thinking he’d been hallucinating the crazy behavior before Susan shrieked and jumped over the table her aunt was using to interrogate him.  

 

Without a word she dove and squeezed him in a tackle-hug, making Harry groan as he fell to the ground.  “Susan… my lungs.”

 

The stern Amelia pretended to ignore her niece’s behavior, and so Harry was stuck with the enthusiastic hufflepuff for another hour before they concluded the ‘interrogation.’  He supposed the hugging wasn’t too bad…

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry was finally free!  And in an empty hallway, which doesn’t usually go well for him.  Between being accused of the Chamber of Secrets stuff and then those psycho-kidnapping-girls, empty hallways were usually a big no-no.

 

And that fact made itself readily known as the candles suddenly began flickering till they suddenly were extinguished entirely.  A dark figure  appeared at the end of the hallway, and Harry promptly turned around to leave as another appeared in the other direction.

 

“Hello Harry.”  They spoke together.

 

“Hestia?  Flora?”  

 

“We heard something.  Something sad.”

 

“What’s that now?”

 

“We heard you asked Susan out.”

 

“Honestly, it’s just for the ball right now.”

 

The two frowned, or at least one did.  Harry was getting whiplash trying to watch both of them.  

 

“We’re not happy.”

 

And with that they vanished, and the candles returned.

 

“… Does Snape teach Slytherins a class on dramatic entrances and exits?”

 

Hestia peeked back around her corner: “yes, actually.”

 

————-Two Days till the Yule Ball——-——

 

In the Hogwarts courtyard, three blondes and a brunette were constructing a… thing.  Luna approached, blinking rapidly and tilted her head in confusion.  

 

Ginny came up behind her, squinting at the sight and whispering in Luna’s ear.

 

Hermione and Ron came from the other side, gawking with Hermione pulling out her phone to record it.  She finally learned her lesson about collecting evidence so Dumbledore could be shown proof.

 

“Can you people get lost?  It’s not done!”  Tracey yelled from atop a scaffold.  

 

“What are you even doing?”  Ginny yelled back at the girls.  Gabrielle and Fleur ignored her, whilst Daphne stopped to scowl and Tracey stuck her tongue out.

 

“None of your business!”

 

“Are you building a trebuchet?”  Hermione asked, her jaw on the floor.

 

“Mhm, going to uze it to kill ‘vatever skank asks ‘Arry out.”  Gabrielle snipped back.

 

“So you’re gonna convince Susan to stand in a specific spot fifty meters away for a few minutes?”  Ron asked, as if he was genuinely considering their logistics.

 

The four girls, plus Ginny, stopped their construction and swung their heads in Ron's direction.  “What about Susan?!”

 

“Oh you should not have said that, Ronald…” Hermione chided as the four jumped off their contraption, pestering the two for information.

 

——————-One Day Left-————————

 

For some damn reason the heads of the three schools had summoned the champions to a private lunch and pre-ball press event.  Which essentially meant the four champions were eating lunch and dreading having to talk to Rita Fucking Skeeter.

 

“So, every’vone have dates yes?”  Viktor asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation amongst the dread of their table.  God bless the guy for trying.  He was pointedly looking at Harry with worry.

 

“Yep.”  Harry chimed back.  At this, every pair of eyes, even those beyond his table seemed to focus in on the conversation.

 

“Who?!”  Fleur practically screeched.  The champions ignored the gaudy woman stalking closer with a charmed quill writing so fast it made smoke come off the parchment.

 

His response seemed to actually free Cedric from his glossy-stupor, the hufflepuff blinking as if he was driving off sleepiness.  

 

“Do I need to, as zey say, beat ze breaks off dis girl?”  Viktor asked, sucking on his lip like he’d eaten a whole lemon.

 

“Oh no, I asked her.”  

 

At that, Viktor smiled and nodded.  The large Bulgarian ‘how the fuck is he a student at that size?’ gave Harry a fistbump.

 

“Who dares?!”  Fleur hissed out, supporting herself with her elbows and holding her face in her hands. 

 

“Oh uh, Susan Bones.”

 

The face Fleur made did not comfort Harry about the possibilities of anyone accepting this.

 

“Ya know, I’m proud of us all and how far we’ve come.”  Cedric said with a grin.  

 

“You're in last place, Diggory.”  Krum playfully reminded the Hufflepuff.

 

“But it’s been a whole month since I’ve had a panic attack due to sexuality, so I’ve grown the most as a person!”

 

“I dunno, did you see Viktor?  He can actually make facial expressions now!”  Harry teased, nudging the Bulgarian with his elbow.

 

——————————————————————

 

“I would just like to say I love democracy.”  

 

Those were the only words Susan would exchange with anyone all day.  Harry fangirls trying to learn her secret? (there was none)  Democracy.  Hestia coming way too close with a knife?  Democracy with a side of sprinting the other direction.  Hermione being convinced Susan’s aunt blackmailed Harry into it?  Democracy with a lot of dodging spells and thrown books.  Books that Hermione would later pick back up and repair with panicked promises of better care, after her fury had died off.

 

Life was good, and better yet no one could figure out what that phrase even meant.

 

She also totally didn’t hire Hannah and Neville to bodyguard Harry that day to scare off the skanks, granted Susan was also half-convinced her two friends/wands-for-hire had snuck off into a broom closet for their own personal time.  She felt like there might be a lesson there about Hannah’s willingness to help her friend’s schemes, but Susan promptly ignored that rationalization.

 

—————-The Day of The Ball-——————

 

Harry woke up hearing boss music.  Literally.  The ipod Hermione had enchanted to hell and back (best Christmas gift ever) to work inside Hogwarts was playing the Soul of Cinder’s theme as an alarm.  That was one hell of an omen.

 

“Alright ladies and gentlemen.”  Hermione began, holding a pointing-stick and pacing in front of a whiteboard.  The bookworm was in a full military uniform, and any attempts from the entire Gryffindor common room she was ‘briefing’ didn't manage to ask how she got it.  

 

“Welcome to Operation: Keep Harry’s Date Alive.  We, as a house, need to keep our resident twink himbo alive and happy for his date.  Until 9PM tonight we gotta have two of us stationed watching Susan’s back, and two more watching our prisoners.”  Hermione barked out like a drill sergeant, gesturing over to the two tied-up and secured third years - Ginny and Romilda.  Hermione had ‘preemptively captured the suspects’ the moment she woke up and gave no further elaboration.

 

“Weasley twins.  You take the first guard shift and booby-trap their dorm as well.  I am authorizing you to do everything in your power to keep those two secure until the Ball.”  Said twins looked predatorily manic at Hermione, saluting and promptly walking away with Romilda and Ginny in tow.

 

“Welp, the tower’s gonna explode.”  Angelina said with a chuckle and light-hearted shake of her head.

 

——————————————————————

 

Albus Percivel Wolfric Brian Dumbledore liked to think himself a man who could think broadly, perhaps cover all his bases.  Yet there was one thing his mind never would’ve conceived of, but it occurred.  Bloody repressed veela genes in the Potter line.  This caused two effects, a seemingly good one, and an inconviniencing one.  

 

On the good side… Well, just about any and every female Death Eater is going to lose to Harry in a duel.

 

On the… not necessarily bad, the boy can’t help it, but inconvenient side: there was a painful amount of single students attending the ball.  Like an absurd amount, and despite literally announcing Harry’s been accounted for with a date to the event to subtly herd them; the girls wouldn’t take the hint.

 

That reminded the old man, he really needed to apologize for announcing Harry’s love life.  He just hoped his pupil would understand the motive behind it.

 

——————————————————————

 

“Luna, what have I told you about this?”  Harry deadpanned.  

 

In front of the boy-who-lived was one blonde Ravenclaw, packing boxes onto a muggle truck with a line of Slytherins and Ravenclaws forming an assembly line to cart the packages into the vehicle… or they were, now half of the line didn’t function since the various girls involved were busy ogling him - minus Luna, of course.

 

Luna was still carting very suspicious brown packages from a storage shelf.  The line was almost impressive, extending from the spacey girl’s old meth-room all the way across the wooden bridge and out to their truck - which was barely even visible from their spot.  ‘AND WHERE DID SHE EVEN GET A MUGGLE TRUCK?!’

 

“You said not to make the spice anymore, Harry.  I remember, I was there after all.”  Luna replied, blinking up at him like she was innocent.  Which knowing Luna she probably thought she was.

 

“Riiight… that was implied to include selling it too.”  

 

“Should’ve been more specific.”  The blonde simply responded, skipping off with her package.

 

“Hey Luna!”  Harry called as she was about to round the corner and go deeper into the castle.

 

“Yes Harry?”

 

“Who’re you going to the ball with?”

 

“Oh!  I forgot to introduce you!”  Luna said, visibly perking up as her eyes sparkled with excitement.  Suddenly, the Ravenclaw pulled someone from around the corner and into view.  A… familiar blonde in Ravenclaw clothes and the same pink glasses.

 

“… Luna, did you clone yourself?”

 

“Don’t be silly Harry, this is simply a Luna Lovegood from an alternate worldline.”

 

Both Luna’s blinked in sync at him, staring and behaving better coordinated then even the Carrow twins are.  

 

“Right… how?  And fix the damn worldline or whatever it is once you’re done.”

 

“It’s simple Harry-“ ‘Oh sweet Jesus they’re speaking in sync.’  “-We Lunas” ‘THERE’S MORE OF THEM?!’ “-Are paracausal beings and do not submit to your petty rules of nature!  Even if it's a great song from a game!”

 

With that, the two Lunas skipped off hand in hand and Harry couldn’t be fucked to further inquire what any of that meant.  

 

‘… Wait, isn't she a pureblood?  How the hell does she know what Metal Gear is?’

 

——————————————————————

 

Finally, the reckoning was upon them.  Harry couldn’t help but nervously pace around the entrance to the Great Hall as he waited for Susan.  Hermione had already shown up with Viktor, and despite his nerves Harry couldn’t help but smile at the two as Hermione laughed at a joke Viktor said.  The guy’d come a long way from the stony fella Harry had first met.

 

Cho and Cedric arrived shortly after, and  much to Harry’s delight the guy was firmly fixated on Cho instead of struggling with glances and trances.  Fleur seemed less than pleased, attending with a Ravenclaw Harry honestly didn’t remember.  As vindictive as it was, he couldn’t help but feel some level of petty satisfaction against Fleur.

 

Whilst he was turned around, a delicate finger tapped his shoulder.  Spinning around, right beside him with a smile spread on her lips was Susan Bones.  The girl’s blue eyes seemed to sparkle as she took humor in the awestruck look he sported.

 

His date was wearing a pretty black and yellow dress for Hufflepuff colors that seemed to let the yellow trim shimmer against the white lighting.  

 

The champions’ dance was actually fun.  Susan kept him in sync and he managed not to step on any toes or bump someone. 

 

“You know, I thought you said you were bad at this.”  Susan chimed in as they swayed

 

“Pretty sure I am.”

 

“No worse than Hannah was during our practice.”  Susan teased, giggling at her date.  “Did you have someone to practice with?”

 

“Hermione.  After that fiasco where she assumed you tricked me into coming with you and threw books she’s been repentant.  She said something like ‘Susan’s a sweetheart and I’m not going to let you embarrass her.’”  

 

“Aww, that’s sweet of her… when she’s not terrifying me with books and hexes.”  Susan chirped back.  “Harry, can we take a break for this next one?  I want to check on Hannah.”

 

“Of course.”  Harry said with a smile at his date, letting go of her waist as they untangled from the dance.  “Want me to get drinks?”

 

“That’d be perfect, Harry.”  Susan smiled back.

 

Harry hadn’t even made it to the refreshments table before a peeved blonde intercepted him, glaring up at him like he caused her personal misery.  

 

With an awkward clearing of his throat, Harry tried to hide his grimace and respond: “Miss Gabrielle… I thought you were grounded.”

 

“Maman saw it fit to delay zat, in pursuit of my noble goals ‘ere at ‘Ogwarts.”  The short veela huffed, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at Harry.  “Tu are lucky zer are so many witnesses… anyways, would you like some punch?”  

 

Right after the thinly veiled threat of a second kidnapping the blonde offered a cup of vividly pink liquid… despite the fact the punch was clearly red in the bowl behind her.

 

“I’ll grab my own, and ohIthinkSusan’swaitingformebye!”  Harry rushed out, dashing past the French girl and collecting drinks to go off and find his redheaded date.

 

Departing without any further interruption, Harry found Susan in a group with Neville and Hannah, Viktor and Hermione, Cedric and Cho, and of course: Ron with a hugely stacked plate of food.  The black-haired boy handed one drink to Susan, slipping into the circle.

 

“How’s your night going, Harry?” Neville asked.  ‘since when did Neville socialize?  We had to drag him out earlier in the year.’

 

“Pretty good other than a menacing tiny french girl making her distaste known despite my lack of shits given for it.”  Harry said with an eyeroll at the situation.

 

“Sounds like my cue mate, don’t worry I got this.”  Ron said ominously.  With that; Ron set his plate down, straightened his tie (still with a chicken wing in his mouth).  “Gentlemen, ladies, and Neville: it's been a pleasure.”

 

With that, the redhead sprinted off in his ancient and gaudy dress robes, full-on diving onto the Beauxbatons’ table and sliding across it.  Plates of food were displaced and fell as he soured across and fell off the other end.  The table shuddered, and promptly collapsed as it broke in two under Ron’s weight and momentum bearing on it. Gabrielle’s screech could be heard across the castle.

 

The group stared, mouths agape.  “… Wait, did he just imply I’m not a gentleman?”  Neville finally piped up, his face looking like his grandma had sent a howler.

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry groaned softly as he woke up.  He had zero recollection of anything past leaving the Ball with Susan and his head felt like someone threw a boulder at him.  Rolling on his side he saw a messy head of orange hair that made him chuckle softly.  Susan was laying beside him, drooling in her sleep underneath the strains of hair covering her head like a mop.  

 

The redhead choked on her own snoring, startling awake much to Harry’s laughing fit from watching it happen.  Susan glared from behind her messy red hair before she suddenly adopted a confused look.

 

“Something on your mind?”  Harry asked his date hesitantly.

 

“Yeah uh… why are we in my aunt’s bed, and how did we get out of Hogwarts and all the way home?”  Susan asked, concern and confusion heavy in her voice.

 

“Don’t ask me.  I asked you two the same things and you acted like I didn’t exist.  You were too busy eating each others’ faces.”  A more mature, familiar voice huffed irritatedly from Harry’s other side.

 

“… Auntie?” Susan squeaked.

 

“For the record: it's my bed and I was already in it.”  One really annoyed Amelia Bones stated.

 

Harry didn’t trust himself to say anything that wouldn’t piss off one or more of the Boneses, so he promptly excused himself to shower… and to find his shirt, with no clue where it was.

 

He didn’t find it.  Nor did Susan or him have their dress robes.  He could only hope they changed back at Hogwarts, because those clothes cost way more than they had any right to be.  At least they had some casual clothes thrown around the bedroom floor.

 

Breakfast was awkward as all hell.  Harry still couldn’t find a damn shirt so he was wearing one of Susan’s that didn’t fit well due to her frontside’s… badonkers.  He wasn’t complaining, a big shirt was comfy.  It still didn’t help with Amelia’s constant glaring and the howler Hermione had sent demanding to know where he was and if he had protection.  

 

‘Duh, I always have my wand with me.  She knows that.’  Harry mentally pouted at the sentient mail.

 

Amelia was nice enough to let them use the floo to get back to Hogwarts.  Like it was tradition at this point, Harry fell out of the fireplace and nailed the floor.  ‘Why the hell can’t Dumbledore get hardwoods?’

 

Standing up, Harry brushed soot off as he looked over his shoulder to Susan, who was staring at something at his waistline and blushing furiously.

 

“Uh… let's go get robes.”

 

Susan quickly nodded, sprinting off to her common room.  Harry walked and tried to pretend that he wasn’t wearing a yellow and black shirt with a badger on it.  No one seemed to buy the inconspicuous act.

Chapter 10: The Second Task

Summary:

Tonight on Top Gear: Ron goes to jail in a “scared-straight” way, the Second Task of the tournament ends with a bang, and Harry accidentally gets parents and a sister with a bro-con problem.

Finally! Next chapter will be the finale folks.

“Alright, you’ve got ten minutes.”  A guard said, looking completely dead inside as a dementor crept outside the windows in the stone hallway.  Harry, Hermione, and Viktor nodded; trudging up the stairs alone.

 

“How are you, mate?”  Harry asked as they arrived, peeking into the cell.  A very pissed off Ron sat on a cot, tossing a rock against a wall and catching it over and over again.

 

“Been better.”  The ginger inmate gruffed, looking over to them with a sigh.

 

“Ronald, that was completely idiotic of you!”  Hermione began, raising her finger up and preparing a rant before Harry clamped a hand on her mouth.

 

“‘Mione, how was I supposed to know assaulting a veela is a felony because they’re an ‘endangered species?’”  The ginger said, frowning as a cloaked-monstrosity tried to float into his window.  When the dementor got close it hissed, looking up at Harry and dashing back out.

 

Even Hermione seemed put out by his words, the witch had been beside herself upon realizing she didn’t have that particular law memorized yet.  Viktor patted the bushy-haired girl’s head sympathetically.

 

“Viktor, how did you not get in trouble for punching Fleur then?”  Ron quipped.

 

“No ‘vitnesses.  None dat would snitch.  Just Harry and Headmaster Kakaroff.”  Viktor said with a proud nod, reminiscing his moment of glory: sending a pervert spiraling across a tent.

 

“We’ll get you out Ron, I’m sure we know enough people to make it work.”  Harry promised, right as the guard begrudgingly came up to warn the visitors they had five minutes left.

 

“Honestly s’not so bad, but my neighbor is one hell of a demented bird.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  Hermione snapped back, furrowing her eyebrows.

 

“… it’s a lovely compliment, is what it is.”  A feminine voice hissed back.  Her voice was hoarse and gritty and her words were followed by a demented cackle.  

 

A pale, boney hand gripped the bars on the cell beside Ron’s as a face peeked between them.  A woman with long curly black hair and dark eyes with bags underneath them.  

 

“It’s been soooo long since I’ve felt a veela.  Not since that one raid he allowed in France.”  The prisoner giggled out, her eyes frantically darting between the three visitors not unlike Mad-Eye’s magic prosthetic one appeared behind the bars. 

 

The woman stuck her tongue out and licked the air as her lips furrowed.  “No… that’s a veela, but none of you are blonde - nor girlies minus this mudblood.”

 

Hermione gasped and held a hand to her chest whilst Viktor stood in front of the muggleborn, blocking her from the crazy woman’s sight.  Ron just sighed and spoke up.

 

“She’s been callin’ me blood-traitor for hours now, and that feeling is just Harry.”

 

That made the woman perked up, or well - sit up.  Her face contorted into sheer fury as she stared into Harry’s eyes.  “YOU!”  She hissed out.  “You… oh this is so rich~!”  The prisoner cackled out, her fury quickly burning out into horrifying manic glee.  

 

“Do I know you?” Harry asked, getting increasingly weirded out.  

 

“Come closer and I’ll remind you, baby boy.”  She said, smiling wide and revealing crooked teeth beneath her lips.  

 

Harry begrudgingly stepped closer to the cell as the woman wagged her finger.  Hermione facepalmed at him but said nothing until the boney woman’s hand shot out and yanked him in, pulling his arm into her cell through the bars and pinning him against her cell door.

 

“Let go of him!”  Hermione squeaked, rushing forward with Viktor to pull Harry back unsuccessfully.  The psycho was crazy-strong.

 

The pale creep leaned right into his ear: “Bellatrix Lestrange - that’s my name darling.  Surely the old mutt mentioned his ex-favorite cousin?  I think that spot now goes to my little blood-betraying sissy after my lord picked me!”  

 

Ron hissed from his cell beside her, recoiling backwards.  “She’s the one who drove Neville’s parents mad!”

 

Hermione gasped, quickly reaching into her cell and smacking the woman.  Her shock thankfully made her let go of Harry, who quickly jumped back from the bars.

 

“Oh worried about that little old thing darling?  Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the Dark Lord gives you to me.  All mine!”  Bellatrix cackled, leaning against the bars as it quickly turned into gaspy heaving.  “Enjoy your last days free of my bedroom, boytoy!”  She called as the trio turned down the stairs.

 

——————————————————————

 

“So how’s Ron holding up?”  Neville asked.  The group were at the Hogwarts Great Hall for breakfast, trying to make conversation as the second task was about to begin later that day.  

 

“He’s doing pretty well.”  Harry flatly said, trying to avoid the subject of their Azkaban visit for the time being.

 

“Oh good… sorry I didn’t go, but I avoid that place for more reasons than just the dementors.”  Neville explained, looking crestfallen.

 

“It’s probably a good thing.  She was in the cell next to Ron.”  Hermione stated flatly, ripping the bandaid off and getting to the point.

 

“Did she brag about my parents?”  

 

“No, but she threatened to keep Harry as a sex toy if Voldemort returned.”  

 

That made Neville pale as he shot Harry an empathetic look of horror.

 

——————————————————————

 

The four champions stood on a hastily-made magic dock over the lake.  Three of them already sported bubbles on their heads, whilst Viktor stood smugly commenting on how ‘badass’ his strategy was.

 

So when Dumbledore shot off a firework spell, the four dove into the lake.  A shark suddenly shot past Harry and it wore Viktor’s jersey.  ‘Damnit he was right, that’s super badass.’  Harry thought as he swam to catch up.  

 

The boy-who-lived was practically unimpeded on his way to the mervillage, with nothing but a silent wave at one pervy ghost: Myrtle.  

 

‘Ya know, at least she was pervy before fourth year.  I can at least respect the persistence… oh wait no, she was creeping on a fourteen year old.  Never mind.  I oughta call the aurors on her?  Can they deal with ghosts?  Do I need to call the Pope?’

 

Busying himself with his train of thought, Harry had almost swam right into the merpeople village.   It was a quaint town, a single street made of sedimentary stones and houses lining either side made of thicker and heavier rocks.  At the very end sat a raised platform with the hostages.  From left to right was Gabrielle, Hermione, Cho, and Susan.  

 

 

Harry swam harder, aiming for the redhead girl first and foremost.  Dragging his holly wand out against the annoyingly slow physics of the water, he waited against her spot for the others to arrive.

 

Viktor showed up first, swimming a fast lap around Harry and Susan’s body as a greeting before he bit Hermione’s rope and sped off with her.  Cedric came next, definitely tired with scratches littering his handsome face.  He gave a quick nod, and held up ten fingers to Harry before he cut Cho’s rope and swam up with her.  

 

The boy-who-lived grumpled internally as he counted.  Cedric had half-assed told him ten minutes were left, and counting from there there was roughly three minutes remaining.  So where the hell is that crazy, molesting, drooling, kidnapping, simping, loudmouthing, insanely possessive Fleur?

 

Harry’s patience ran out, or well, it had ages ago when Cho and Hermione were rescued.  They were who he was safe-guarding with Susan.  He just didn’t want to have to save Gabrielle and give the tiny girl more ammunition to her fanaticism.  

 

Nonetheless, a diffindo to Susan’s rope and the veela’s cut each, and Harry grabbed both girls and kicked upwards towards the surface.  His vision clouded, but he was breathing fine as his air bubble turned pink.  

 

They broke the surface, and to Harry’s relief Susan seemed to wake and inhale… to his detriment so did Gabrielle, who seemed dazed enough not to yet realize he was with her.  The three hurriedly swam back to the dock, trying to escape the February lake temperature: ‘seriously cold as shit.’

 

The three raced up the ladder and Harry didn’t have time to think before Susan grabbed him and tried to smother his mouth with her own… only for the pink bubble to stop them.  The redhead grunted in frustration, whipping out her soaked wand and popping the bubble.  

 

It felt like time paused when it popped, just for a moment before a loud BOOM echoed in Scotland’s highlands.  Pink mist shot out like an explosion, not doing damage but making everyone in inhalation distance faint almost instantly.  Everyone except for one Albus Dumbledore, who simply lowered his fancy white spell-shield and chuckled Harry’s way.  Susan groaned softly, nearly falling backwards before the raven-haired boy caught her.

 

“I’m okay…” She sleepily commented, inhaling loudly as… ‘oh she’s smelling me, this is awkward.’  Harry thought, wide-eyed as the redhead pulled him closer.  

 

“Uh Susan, how’re you awake?”  Harry asked, ignoring how his girlfriend clung to him as he lowered both himself and her to the ground to sit.

 

“I ‘unno.  I guess I’m used to whatever your pink boomy juice is, cutie.”  Susan sleepily replied, clearly not all there at the moment.

 

Madam Pomphrey and Dumbledore quickly came to his rescue, along with the Delacour parents who seemed to be entirely unaffected by the situation.  

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry was summoned to the Headmaster’s office later in the day, after Madam Pomphrey checked over all the spectators of the second task.  She’d been muttering about needing a raise and vacation all day.

 

Entering, Harry found the other contestants, the judges, and four other people he quickly recognized.  

 

Sirius Black and Minister Fudge, and they were chatting as if one wasn’t a fugitive.  Amelia Bones stood nearby, and smiled at her ‘son-in-law,’ as she called him after the Yule Ball morning.  She’d also made comments about the ‘in-law’ part being especially important, muttering other things under her breath that’d made Susan squeak in embarrassment.  On the other end of the room was Tonks, the fourth extra stood against a wall looking particularly bored if her hair color being poo-brown was any indication.

 

Harry blinked at Sirius, trying to convey the silent message of: ‘what the genuine fuck do you think you’re doing here?’  He definitely understood it, but ignored his godson’s panic.

 

Fudge clapped his hands and nodded, walking towards the floo.  “Well I must be off, apologies I can’t stay for the points but I’m a busy man.”  With that, he vanished into the green fire. 

 

Harry wasted no time, stepping close to Sirius.  “What the hell are you doing here?”  He hissed under his breath.

 

“Ah, Mister Potter.  A pleasure to finally meet you.  The name is Joaquin.  Joaquin White.”  Sirius responded with a shit-eating-grin plastered across his face.

 

“… did you seriously name yourself Joaquin because it sounds like ‘joking,’ and your name is Sirius?”

 

“Yup.”  He popped the p.

 

“I hate it.”

 

“You sound like your mom.”

 

Their conversation was interrupted by the two legal figures approaching.  Both Tonks and Amelia strided up with irritated looks on their faces.  

 

“Excuse me Mister White…” Amelia began, scowling at the man.  Neither seemed to recognize Sirius, on account of him shaving for once in his life alongside shorter hair and glasses - which Harry strongly suspected was his spare set he left at Grimmauld.  “I believe you should keep some distance, it’s unbecoming for an older stranger to be so close to a sixteen year old.”

 

Harry just blinked at both aurors, wondering how the hell Amelia didn’t recognize her old classmate and former coworker whilst Tonks didn’t even recognize her own cousin.

 

“Are you accusing me of something, madam?”  Sirius snapped back.  His grin only got bigger as he relished the chance to mess with Amelia again after fifteen years.  

 

“Strongly implying is more apt.” Tonks cut in, narrowing her eyes as her brown hair seemed to slowly acquire blood-red highlights.

 

“He’s perfectly fine.”  Harry interrupted the interruptorer, frowning at the younger auror who seemed to turn pink.

 

“Harry we’re just-“ Tonks started again, only for ‘Mister White’ to hold up a hand.

 

“Now Nymphadora-“ Tonks looked downright feral at him, her mouth open in a frown and showing teeth. “-Surely you recognize Harry’s godfather, and your cousin?”  Sirius asked, smirking the whole damn time.

 

Amelia paled, slowly inching for her wand as one Albus Dumbledore strode in for the rescue.  “Now Amelia, I’d like to take this time to remind you of an… unrelated fact.  The office and home of the ICW’s Chief Mugwump is, in fact, a place of sovereign neutrality by international magical law.”

 

Amelia huffed at that, crossing her arms even and looking furious even if she wasn’t trying to reach for her wand anymore.  Tonks just blinked.  “What’s that mean?”

 

“It means-“ Amelia began.  “That we have no jurisdiction to arrest Mister Black as long as he’s in this office.”

 

“Quite right ol’ Bonsey.”  Sirius said with a laugh.

 

The judges announced the scores and totals after a long deliberation of whether or not to punish Harry for the accidental allure-bomb.  They finally decided not to, mostly due to Dumbledore and Maxine advocating for how it was unintentional and that no one knew it could build up inside a bubblehead charm.  

 

Viktor ended up in first due to his speed.  Cedric got second in the task, but third overall.  Fleur was last in both regards, much to her angry French swearing and whining about not being able to “sweep ze male off ‘is feet” with her victory.  Harry was third in the task, and second in points.  

 

——————————————————————

 

Meanwhile, at the Ministry of Magic’s entrance (AKA a random phone booth in London). Hermione, Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Lavender stood outside the red box with a picket sign with a hastily written ‘Free Ron, he didn’t do nothing!’ on it: much to the confusion of passing muggles. 

 

——————————————————————

 

“So you can get Ron off?”

 

“Oh yes, pretty easily.  I’m far more concerned about Sirius’ case.  Mister Weasley will be out before tomorrow.”

 

Ted Tonks said with a nod.  Harry sat with the man in his office after the points scoring when Tonks took Harry and Sirius home to discuss the whole Sirius Black deal.  

 

Turns out Andromeda already believed his innocence, even though the eldest Black sister promptly drop-kicked her cousin for ‘making her worry for fifteen years.’  

 

Oh also her husband is a muggleborn lawyer, who was happy to help with Ron’s case given the Tonkses (AKA a frantic Andromeda doting on him and worrying about his various bruises and petiteness) had immediately decided to adopt him until Sirius was exonerated and healthy.  

 

So yeah, Harry - who was confused and still lagging behind due to the sheer speed Andromeda decided it and Ted had filed it - had a new family, and a sister who was into him… that part was awkward.  On the bright side his adopted dad and Hermione would get along great, the guy could chat about any and every law in the magical world.

 

——————————————————————

 

Finally back at Hogwarts, Harry was in a great mood.  Half of his friends were gone, apparently to the Ministry if Malfoy was to be believed.  The blonde had come to Harry of all people to ask for elaboration, and Harry knew nothing himself.  

 

Before long, the boy-who-lived found himself idly wandering the castle out of sheer boredom when he decided to go explore the dungeons.  Gryffindors tended to dodge the area due to Slytherins, but considering Malfoy had just managed amicable conversation Harry figured his chances were decent.

 

That’s what led him to the room.  

 

He’d stumbled onto it entirely by accident, a large circular chamber with a glowing prismatic lens in the roof.  Beneath the lens were many Lunas, standing a circle with rows more behind the first.  The one he presumed as his Luna stood in the center as pink and blue smoke emanated from the roof onto her.  

 

Each circle of Lunas stepped into the smoke, shifting as they did.  When the smoke cleared nothing remained but the original Luna.

 

“Uh… what’s up, Luna?”  Harry asked hesitantly as the blonde slowly turned her head to peer at him… only moving her head.  

 

“We are no longer one Luna, Harry.  We are all Lunas.”  

 

“Uh… that’s nice, how is that?”

 

“Our thoughts are constant and frayed.  Universes beyond our understanding exist.  We are written to be.  We are the common ambassador to our other universes, while you are their usual favorite, Harry.”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

“One day, our little acolyte."  Luna(s) patted his head, despite being shorter, and skipped back out the door.

Chapter 11: Chaotic Climax

Summary:

I'm sorry this took so long to make. I wanted to write something that matched the rest of it and especially encapsulated my original theme, whilst giving all the involved characters a part. What was my original theme, you may ask? Pure chaos with a semblance of plot.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did. It's been an awesome ride.

“Why are we babysitting a grown man?”  Tonks asked, sitting in her mom’s living room. 'Is a mom's cousin technically an uncle?  Or is it because Mum and Sirius are close?’ Sirius was duct-taped to the couch beside her mother.  Remus Lupin sat in the chair beside hers.  Tonks could barely function with how early her mother had dragged her out of bed for this.

 

“Have you met Sirius?”  Both Andromeda and Remus spoke at the same time, their voices tired and haunting.

 

“Jinx!  You owe me a Coke, and she hasn’t met my awesomeness: Azkaban, remember?  Or, well, it’s been too long for her to remember me before all that.”  Sirius supplied as he tried to squirm out of Andromeda’s tape-jail.

 

“Your father is out for work, and I need to visit your new brother at Hogwarts for his last task of the Tournament, so you two are on Sirius duty,” Andromeda replied to her daughter.

 

“Wait, but then I can’t go see him!  Remus and Sirius should support him, too.”  Tonks protested.

 

“… Fine, you can floo over when it's time, but Sirius stays as an animagus, and you keep him from wandering.”  Andromeda relented just as she tossed the floo powder and vanished into the green flames.

 

Remus didn’t waste a moment to whirl around on her.  “And you stay away from my nephew, damnit!”  The werewolf glared.

 

Tonks had to keep herself in check even as her hair turned a different shade of pink in response.  “He’s my adopted brother!  I can be as close as I want!”

 

“And I’m sure you’re ready to bring up the ‘not blood related’ argument to him any day now.”

 

“I told him that the day mum filed for adoption!”

 

“See?!  Cradle-robber!”

 

“Whatever, fur-face!  Better me than some hussy!”

 

“That's actually not a bad point.”  The werewolf relented.

 

“… Remus, where did Sirius go?”  Tonks finally asked, looking back at the couch.  Where her uncle had been was now an empty spot with the tape scattered and ripped to pieces.

 

“Shit.”  The stoic man cursed

 

——————————————————————

 

The final task was here.  Harry felt his eyes resist waking up, groggy and wiping rheum from his eyelids.

 

The sound of female voices standing over the black-haired boy’s bed set off every mental alarm Harry had - swiping his glasses and wand off the nightstand and aiming them at the intruders’ blurry outlines.

 

Harry was sick of this shit, and without hesitation, upon hearing French words, he blasted a confringo towards the two.  Besides the smaller figure letting out a squeaky ‘eep!’ of surprise, it did effectively nothing.  The larger woman’s wand flicked, and ropes bound Harry’s arms to his torso.

 

‘Fucking veela fire resistance…’ Harry thought as Fleur pulled back the drapes from his poster bed.  

 

“‘Arry!”  The two French women greeted together, with their accent cutting the ‘h’ sound off his name entirely.

 

“What do you want?!”  The raven-haired wizard groaned out, snapping at the two and checking the time.  Six-thirty in the morning was far too early for bird-women bullshit.

 

“Mon ‘Arry-“ Fleur fluttered her eyelashes, and Harry had to stop himself from cringing at the gesture, “You were so brave pulling ma soeur from ze lake.”

 

“If only zat incident hadn’t interrupted,”  Gabrielle grumbled.  “It would’ve been perfect!  So romantic.”

 

“I’m very happily taken, I’ll remind you.”  Harry deadpanned at the two blondes, trying his best to ignore Fleur staring at him like Ron stared at a steak dinner - or Hermione stared at a book on warding her trouble-magnet and crazy-lady-attracting friend’s dorm.

 

As if she was summoned, a blasting curse shredded the Gryffindor fourth year’s dorm door to pieces, and a furious… not Hermione?  Stood in its place.  Nope, not his usual savior best friend, but the matriarch of the Tonks family and ex-daughter of the Blacks was in his doorway.  

 

Vengeance was swift.  Not only did Andromeda duel the two with bloodlust, but she juggled Fleur in the air with different banishing and summoning charms that reminded Harry of Dudley’s ‘Devil May Cry’ game.

 

Less than a minute or two later, Harry was unbound, and his adopted mom was checking him over for injuries.  The other boys had also been woken up after Andromeda dispelled the silencing charms on their beds.

 

“Not that I’m ungrateful, but how did you know they were here?”  Harry probed.

 

“Your friend Hermione told me,”  Andromeda explained, shrugging in the direction of the door where a wide-eyed Hermione stared at Andromeda’s terrifying dueling work.

 

“I have a tracking charm on you and Ron.  I also have a more complex one that alerts me whenever a woman touches you - or casts a spell on you.”  Hermione explained.

 

“… excluding Susan, right?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“… wait so-“

 

“Yep.”

 

Cue a flashback of a sleepless Hermione one late night, trying to cover her face with a pillow as her wand blinked a red light on and off, accompanied by a pinging noise every time.  Parvati seethed and threw her entire trunk at the bookworm’s wand whilst Lavender rocked back and forth in a ball, screaming, “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!”

 

Hermione gasped as she spoke, “Oh, I completely forgot, I’m supposed to help Parv and Lav find a way to resist your allure."

 

“I’m not a bloody bird though!”  Harry protested, as his two best friends in the whole world stared at him like he was an idiot.

 

“Are we really still doing this bit?”  Ron deadpanned.

 

“Also, you're grounded for that.”  Andromeda deadpanned.  “Same rules for you as I set for Nymphadora: no sex until you’re older than I am.”

 

“… but that’s impossible.”

 

“Better get started on that then.”  The adopted mom said with a smirk, turning and marching off on a mission to terrorize any and every judge who let Harry compete in the tournament.

 

——————————————————————

 

Three groups of Slytherins stood opposed to each other in their common room.  Pansy (and a very depressed Malfoy) led the left-hand group, Tracey and Daphne had the center group by the big window looking into the Black Lake, and the Carrow twins had the right side group.

 

“So… pureblood dueling rules?”  Pansy, in her usual haughty tone, asked.

 

“Question.”  Tracey interrupted, “What are those rules?”

 

The other five leaders all blinked at her before Daphne shook her head.  “She’s a half-blood.”

 

“Oh, basically, we stand in a line and shoot each other." One of the Carrows answered.

 

Tracey just gawked.  “You mean like some primitive 1500s muggle war?”

 

Pansy raised her finger and opened her mouth only for her eyes to widen, and she slowly put her hand back down.

 

“… We’re still going to try and kill each other over Harry, right?”  The other Carrow asked, fingering the tip of a comically large knife.

 

“Oh, absolutely,”  Daphne responded with a smirk.

 

With that, the six idiots leading the Slytherin civil war and their goons started blasting each other with every dark and family-bound curse they could think of.

 

——————————————————————

 

Romilda Vane was not having a good day, or a good week, or a good month, or even a good year.

 

Someone had been stealing her secret project all month.  The Gryffindor, who somehow got in there and not fucking Slytherin with how much of a snake she is, found her hidden room once again.  Once again, her potions project in the room had been swiped by another student.

 

Her cauldron sat empty with nothing but pink residue on the sides to show for all her effort into making her own variant of Amortentia.  Romilda’s eye twitched as she let out a piercing, angry scream and stormed off deeper into the castle.

 

Right above the door she’d just left were two ginger twins performing ungodly feats of acrobatics to hold themselves up above the doorway.  Looking at each other, they grinned ferally as Fred pulled out the stolen bottle of love potion.

 

The two dropped from their hiding spot and merrily skipped off to find the Hogwarts kitchens.

 

——————————————————————

 

Viktor did not fancy himself a philosopher, nor really a thinker.  That was his darling Hermione’s strength, a brilliant witch who could rationalize and theorize for ages.  Viktor was not so.

 

The man had been holed up in the Durmstrang ship for days as he pondered what those words Harry had spoken could mean - the words all the way back at the first task.  

 

“You have bear hands?”  Viktor echoed, much to the confusion of his Durstrang bunkmate.

 

“Pardon?”

 

Viktor just shook his head, writing the phrase ‘bare hands’ over and over to try and find what he was missing.  It was translated into English, so what else could it be?

 

The Bulgarian champion stared, squinting his eyes at the paper as his roommate looked over his shoulder.

 

“Is meme.”

 

“Vut?”

 

“Is Muggle inteernet meme, yes?  I am Muggleborn.”

 

“Dah, but vhy?”

 

“‘Ow should I know?  Is just milkbag says bear hands instead of bare hands.”

 

Viktor blinked in confusion; audibly, the difference wasn’t there until his roommate picked up the quill and wrote ‘bear hands’ under Viktor’s ‘bare hands.’

 

“DAS IT!”  Viktor shouted, running off to find his brother-from-another-mother.

 

“… ‘ow is ‘e our champion?”  The roommate said with a facepalm.

 

——————————————————————

 

“Harry~” A voice purred from behind as a body hugged him.  To his left, Harry Potter peeked over to see a blushing Neville and Hannah accompanying his girlfriend, “Guess who?”

 

“I don’t need to guess - wherever Hannah is, you’re close by, Susie.”  Harry teased back, reaching around to pat her head as she leaned onto his shoulder.

 

“Quit giving me away, Han!”  Susan teasingly chided her best friend, who rolled her eyes and held Neville’s hand.

 

“So what’s the occasion, Sue?  You’re not having trouble with uh…”

 

“Your sycophant followers?”  Hannah suggested.

 

“Crazy perverts?”  Neville deadpanned.

 

“That’s one way to put it,”  Harry responded with a sigh.

 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Hare-bear, I got just the thing to help,”  Susan said from behind, her hands pulled him to turn towards her.

 

“Susan… why are you wearing that?”

 

Susan was back in the ridiculous Halloween cop costume again, this time with a far more knowledgeable smirk on her face.

 

“To wish you good luck on the last task~ now come on.”

 

Neville and Hannah didn’t even react as their redhead friend dragged her boyfriend off, right up until she’d disappeared with him.

 

“… so, wanna go work on our herbology?”  Hannah suggested.

 

“You’re the best.”  Neville smiled brightly, lacing their fingers together and heading off.

 

——————————————————————

 

Hermione, Lavender, and the Patil twins skipped lunch that day.  The bushy-haired girl was huffing in frustration as nothing she tried or researched really explained allure-resistance.  It seemed you either were or weren’t, and in the case of poor Harry, it seemed ladies were less resistant than guys, probably due to how rare boy veelas were.

 

The Ravenclaw twin’s eye was twitching as she scoured a mountain of books herself, facepalming every time a book proved totally useless.  

 

Parvati was on Lavender duty, AKA: tying the blonde up in a library chair and keeping an eye on the perpetually-horny woman.  

 

Lavender Brown had already attempted four escapes, all promptly shot down by the three girls.  The fifth one began before they realized what was happening.  This time, Lav didn’t even try to break her bonds; she just hopped up and sprinted away with the chair still tied to her stomach with rope.

 

Hermione’s stunner was absorbed by Lav’s chair as if it were a shield, and the three girls cursed and sprinted off after Lavender.

 

——————————————————————

 

Meanwhile, at lunch, one Ginerva Weasley was sulking over her crush being stolen away - and being thrown out a window by said crush.

 

“Gin, the headmaster wants to see you.”  A dreamy-voiced Luna said from Ginny’s left.  The ginger blinked at her.

 

Professor McGonagal approached from the staff table, about to open her mouth when Ginny interrupted: “The headmaster wants to see me?”

 

The Scottish woman shut her mouth, staring in confusion but nodding nonetheless as Ginny sighed and headed off to meet her fate.

 

The ginger girl climbed the spiral stairs to the headmaster’s office like she was facing an execution, knowing full well she was gonna be in trouble for spying on what was essentially her adopted brother.  

 

But what made her pale in horror was what awaited inside the office.  One chair sat in front of her, and across the room in a semi-circle were eight chairs: each holding a different familial ginger on it.  Ginny blitzed back to the door, which snapped shut with a flick of Molly Weasley’s wand.

 

“Sit, Ginny.  We need to talk, dear.”  The matriarch tutted, in a tone that made every Weasley man (especially Arthur) shiver in fear.  

 

Even Percy had shown up (granted, it was probably also because of the tournament task today), but he’d shown up with Charlie, who was almost always in Romania, and Bill from Egypt.

 

The twins were there, for fucks’ sake! That alone was cause for alarm as if the rapture was beginning.

 

“What your mother means is we have concerns over your crush.”  Her dad began, shaking his head and adjusting his glasses.  

 

“You said my crush was fine!”  Ginny hissed, particularly at her mother.

 

“That was kinda before you were caught peeking on my best mate in the shower, Gin.”  Ron interrupted, looking at her like he’d swallowed a particularly awful Burty Bott’s bean.  

 

“… was it really necessary to drag Charlie and Bill here too?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Mhm.”  The two eldest responded, nodding at their baby sister like stern parents.

 

“I honestly applaud the maturity Fred and George are showing, though.”  Percy chimed in, looking over at the oddly stoic twins.

 

“… wait a minute.”  Molly hissed through her teeth, poking one twin with a needle.  The replica of George popped like a balloon.  

 

“I’ll find those two scallywags, Molly dearest,”  Arthur said, nodding to his respective sons and daughter as the man strode out, wand in hand.

 

“Oh, they’ve done it now,”  Percy muttered, wide-eyed at his father’s leaving.

 

“Now, back to the issue at hand.”  Molly Weasley said with a strict tone, staring right into Ginny’s soul. 

 

The ginger girl couldn’t help but gulp as her mother cleared her throat, preparing for the notorious yelling of an angry Weasley mom.

 

——————————————————————

 

The missing twins were huddled together amidst the Hogwarts Kitchens, whispering nefariously as a voice came from behind.

 

“Do you lads have an explanation?”

 

The twins paled as they slowly turned their heads to find their father standing behind them.  The stout ginger patriarch had an eyebrow raised, not nearly as terrifying as their mother was, but considering how rare it was for Arthur to be upset, it certainly meant something for his kids.

 

“So glad you asked, papa.”  Fred(?) responded

 

“Right you are, Father dearest.”  The other added.

 

“And…?”  Their father responded with a wary eyebrow raised at the pair.

 

“Quite simple, really.”

 

“A deal you can’t refuse.”

 

“We’re providing a service for our dearest practically-a-younger-brother.”

 

“Covering his arse for the day, if you would.”

 

“You see, our awesome dad.”

 

“Harry’s been getting a bit too much… attention of the aggressive variety.”

 

Arthur pursed his lips into a frown, sighing as he gave in to his twins’ chaos.  “If your mother finds any evidence…”

 

“We’re professionals, father.”

 

“Not a crumb left for her to see.”

 

“Not much damage either.”

 

“Shoddy potioneer, that Romilda.”

 

“Snape would be crying in agony if he saw her work.”

 

“In that case, I suppose it's a good thing I never learned where the kitchens were when I attended school, isn’t it?”  Arthur said as he wandered off, making sure to wink at his middle children.

 

The twins grinned wickedly and proceeded to dump the stolen potion all over the pots and pans in the kitchen.

 

——————————————————————

 

Harry was happy to finally sit down and eat lunch, right as the twins came in and vanished the food from their side of the Gryffindor table and replaced it with their own.  Only Harry’s group, including their mix of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws they'd practically adopted, plus the Quidditch team, got the twins "safe" (if you believed them) food.  

 

“Care to explain yourselves?”  A suspicious Hermione prodded Fred in the abdomen as he passed.

 

“You’ll enjoy this, our bushy-haired pseudo-sister.”

 

“Even if it goes against your precious school rules.”

 

“What.  Did.  You.  Do?”  Hermioned said with an aghast look on her face.

 

“You’re soon to find out, Hermie, just enjoy the show.  You especially, Furry Putter.”

 

Harry couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at the twins’ antics whilst Susan eyed them from the seat beside her boyfriend.

 

“Do I need to get Aunt Amelia?”  She teasingly asked.

 

The twins paled and shook their heads vigorously in fear of Sue’s aunt.

 

Something was very off, Harry noticed, especially as the twins kept peeking over at the Slytherin table.  Most of them were absent from lunch, and so was one brooding emo professor.

 

A single, awkward cough echoed out in the Great Hall.  Not that odd, until Harry realizes both of the Weasley twins had darted their heads that way with anticipation.  

 

Like a tidal wave, groans echoed out across the hall as student after student turned pink in the face and vomited.  The sheer volume of the stuff caused Ron to vomit, and hordes of students clogged the massive double doors to escape the Great Hall’s chaos.

 

“That was supposed to be in your food, Harry, courtesy of Miss Vane.”  Fred(?) said.

 

“One awful love potion, it is.”  George(?) echoed.

 

“But-“ The two said together, “We know our stuff.  Just a teensy tweak and a duplication charm-“

 

“Wait, you invented a duplication charm?  Merlin’s Law of Transfiguration says that’s impossible!?”  Hermione shrieked in horror.

 

“Not important.”  One twin answered, rolling his eyes where only Harry could see to avoid Hermione’s wrath.

 

“They’ll be doused up all day.  Nothing too bad, just maybe some pining thoughts and cuddly touches they’ll be regretting tomorrow.”  

 

“Well, that wasn’t too bad for Romilda, I guess…”  Harry said with a groan of discomfort.

 

“Oh no, we had to dilute it.  That hag was going to feed you enough of it to kill a leviathan.”  

 

Harry’s face paled in sheer horror.

 

“Oh, wait, that's right,” Ron said, munching on a biscuit he stole from a now-sick student.  “Where’d Lavender go, ‘Mione?”

 

 “Oh, she’s with Parv.  We locked her in a closet and had her and Padma stand guard until my lunch is done, then I’ll swap with the-“ Hermione’s eyes widened as a bright light appeared above her head… literally, a Lumos spell did.

 

“Ron, come on!  I need to set you and Lavender up!”  She yelled, dragging a sputtering Weasley out of the Great Hall, much to Harry’s and even the Twins’ confusion.

 

——————————————————————

 

Daphne had one arm switched with her leg, Malfoy was bald, Pansy was literally turned into a pansy, Tracey somehow ended up permanently falling - she’d simply reappear a foot above the ground, hit said ground, and the cycle would continue - and the Carrow Twins were physically molded together at the hip.  

 

The entirety of Slytherin was occupying the infirmary as hordes of lunch-goers sieged the doors in desperate attempts to enter, as they were caught vomiting on a loop.  Madame Pomphrey took a discreet look around and downed a silver flask when she thought no one was looking.

 

Tracey kept comparing it to ‘World War Z,’ to the confusion of the purebloods minus Daphne.  Tracey practically held her best friend hostage over the summer and demanded that the ice queen watch Muggle movies with her.

 

“Wait, what if they are zombies?!  They’re already pale and icky!”  Tracey eeped.  “Tracey, they’re not-“

 

“But what if they are?”  Astoria squeaked from behind Daphne’s bed, cowering in the chaos as a group tried to get into the locked room.  After all, vomiting was less of a problem than a civil war.  

 

“What are zombies?”  One of the Carrow twins asked as she hit the other on the head, since the other had been reaching over to grab a drink off the table, and dragged her sister with her.

 

Tracey fell again, and at least her curse seemed to wear off as the intervals got wider and wider.  “The undead!  Reanimated corpses with plague dead-set on turning us too!”

 

The Carrows gasped out, in awe instead of horror.  “We must become zombies immediately.”  They said together, “way cooler than vampires like we originally intended.”

 

“No-no one is a zombie!”  Malfoy squeaked, drawing everyone’s attention to how he was curled up in a ball and cowering at the idea.  His bald head reflected the sun like a mirror, shining on the walls and making Daphne cover her eyes.

 

“Maybe I am one!  What if I was and didn’t know?!”  Astoria squeaked.  The third year looked spooked, cowering further behind her older sister.  

 

Daphne just sighed and facepalmed as Tracey leaped off her bed at Astoria, making growls as the younger girl ran and the brunette chased her around the hospital bed - minus falling from the sky every so often.  

 

“Quit this zombie nonsense.”  Malfoy hissed from his own bed, crossing his arms as the Carrows both looked him dead in the eye.  “You’re a pussy.”  

 

Just like that, the civil war was back on.

 

——————————————————————

 

A tall man stalked down the upper corridors of Hogwarts in a trench coat.  Sneaking in with the horde of visiting parents in anticipation of the third task had been easy, and the suave fake mustache made him entirely incogni-!

 

“Hey, Padfoot.”  His godson said as he passed by, smirking just like James used to after his pranks.

 

“Wha-  how’d you see through my disguise!?”  Sirius spat out, pinching his ‘stache.

 

 “It’s just a mustache and coat.  I’d be a pretty shit godson if I couldn’t recognize you.”

 

“Well, I passed my own cousin in the hall and she didn’t recognize me… granted, Andi was busy cursing that Crouch guy.”  

 

“… Andi is cursing a ministry official?”

 

“Yep.”  

 

“… I’m gonna go get her before I end up on my fourth set of foster parents.”

 

“Wait, you've been through three?”

 

“Petunia, you, and Andi.  So it looks like any time a Black adopts a Potter, said Black goes to Azkaban right after.”

 

“Don’t say that or Hermione will graph the statistics.”  Sirius quipped.

 

“Tell me about it.”  Harry sarcastically remarked.  “Welp, better go save Andi from a possible Azkaban sentence.”

 

“Ya know…” Sirius started, sporting a shit-eating grin on his face.  “James used to say firewhisky helped suppress that allure thing.”

 

“My dad didn’t have it…” The black-haired teen retorted, narrowing his eyes at his godfather.

 

“Well, yeah, I mean his uh, grandma had it.  Why are you even arguing? You’re gonna try it anyway!”  Sirius huffed at his own awful lie.

 

“Ya know, the funny thing is I know you’re playing me… but you’re right.”

 

“Tell you what, kiddo, I’ll go save Andi, and you go get some firewhiskey.”

 

From down the hall, two voices approached.  One erratic female voice followed by a tired-sounding guy.  “Hey, is that-“ Harry started, turning to Sirius to find his godfather already sprinting the other way.

 

“Good afternoon, Harry.” 

 

“Wotcher lil’ bro!  Don’t suppose you’ve seen my uncle around?”

 

“Lucius?”  Harry asked, tilting his head.

 

“Uh- what?  No.”

 

“Rudolphus?”  

 

“No!  Ew, I hope not, since he's in prison.”

 

“… Does Andi have another sister?”

 

“Sirius!  I mean, Sirius!”

 

“Wait…” Remus butted in.  “Harry’s not this dumb; he’s stalling.”

 

“Well, he sometimes is if the author decides to lobotomize him like the movies did.  Did you know it was actually Harry who studied and made the connection between Nicolas Flemmel and the Sorcerer's Stone - or Philosopher’s Stone, depending on your region - and not Hermione, like the movies said?  He is a far more complex character than the movies detail, and it makes sense he was almost a Slytherin.”  Luna stated in response, startling the three others by the fact that she randomly peeked her head out from an empty classroom.  With that, she slipped back inside.  Tonks promptly opened it and looked inside.  “She’s gone!?”  The auror squeaked.

 

“We’ll unpack whatever the hell that was later; we need to contain Sirius now.”  Remus reminded his cohort.  

 

——————————————————————

 

Atop the Astronomy tower, Cho and Cedric had spread out a blanket, relaxing against the wall and overlooking Hogwarts amidst the sheer chaos of the day’s events.  Some lady was trying to hex the Ministry officials judging the tournament, Luna was leading some kind of cult, the Slytherins were trying to kill each other again, MOST of Hogwarts’ student body was running around with a whole new definition of lovesick, and an entire family of gingers was trying to pull their youngest daughter back into a tower window she was trying to climb out of.

 

All in all, everything was a mess, just like most of this plot, but at least Cedric and Cho got a happy ending as the girl put her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

 

They totally weren’t ignoring the redhead Susan behind them, trying to wrestle a third bottle of firewhiskey from Harry Potter, nope.  Nothing at all was happening behind them, even as the boy fell over a table and his girlfriend pinned him to the ground.

 

——————————————————————

 

“What are we doing again?” Neville asked Hannah, who was dragging the boy through the castle.

 

“We’re going to give that Moody a piece of our minds.  Who the hell shows the unforgivables to a class with Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter in it!  What a horrible person.”  She spat, red in the face as she marched into the Defense Classroom and up the stairs to the office.  Turns out venting to Hannah meant the normally calm girl became quite vengeful.

 

Hannah didn’t knock, throwing the door open with fury.  Inside was a disheveled-looking creep of a man,  with darting eyes and lips that wouldn’t stop weirdly convulsing between his weird licks to the side of his mouth.  

 

“Uh…” was all Hannah could say, as the homeless-looking man who looked oddly like Richard Hammond stared back.  

 

“Petrificus Totalus!”  Neville yelled from behind, pointing her wand over Hannah’s shoulder and pulling the girl behind him.  

 

“Who- Neville, you can’t just petrify someone!”

 

“Barty Crouch Junior.”

 

“Wha-“

 

“We’ll discuss it later, thank god I learned that spell from Hermione.”

 

“Oh, Hermione taught you that?  I’ll have to send her a gift basket.”

 

“… well, she technically used it on me.”

 

“She WHAT?!  Never mind, I’m gifting her my foot up her ass.”

 

“Can we threaten Hermione AFTER we get this Death Eater to the Aurors?  I could swear I saw Tonks running around here earlier.”

 

Tonks was starting to regret both her birth and career choices, having to spend all day chasing Sirius and now making an arrest on her one day off for the month.  Her hair shifted to brown in a mix of annoyance and exhaustion, but she scribbled down the two students’ statements regardless, as Amelia flooed in to take the prisoner to the Ministry.

 

——————————————————————

 

The Final Task was set up in the evening, and before it even started was a complete mess.  Two of the judges, Crouch and Bagman, were sporting a bunch of bruises courtesy of one furious Andromeda Tonks.  

 

Fleur had a black eye from the very same woman from that morning’s events, Krum seemed entirely distracted, Harry was hungover, and Cedric seemed to be the only one in decent shape.

 

The hedges closed behind the respective champions, and each was left with nothing but the setting sun for light.  

 

Nothing managed to slow Harry for long, and half of the creatures set to oppose him ended up enthralled instead.  It was really damn awkward when a sphinx of all things blushed at him and let the raven-haired wizard through without a riddle.  

 

The maze ended up being comically easy when you have superpowers, even by wizard standards, that give you a mini-compulsion charm on demand and overpowered fire spells.

 

Harry reached the cup with ease, and the moment his finger touched it, everything spun out of existence, and he was chucked to the ground.  An eerie graveyard sprawled out in front of the wizard.  A crowd of dark and hooded wizards approached, and Harry couldn’t help but think, ‘Here we fucking go again.’

 

Shaky and hurting from the portkey, Harry tried to get up as a statue practically came to life behind him and bound him between the arms and the scythe the stone giant held.  One satanic ritual later and half of a panic attack later, Voldemort was back and taunting the boy-who-lived when a black-clothed figure outright sprinted into the graveyard past the wall of fog.  

 

“Wait!  Wait!”  The female Death Eater screeched, sprinting right up to the Dark Lord.  Voldemort’s face was just as confused as everyone else’s, showing an uncharacteristic amount of emotion as the black-haired witch caught her breath.

 

“Ah, Bellatrix…” Voldemort tested, seemingly at last recognizing the interrupting witch.  Said witch heaved a bit more before she stood straight.  “My lord, I’ve served faithfully from the very moment I joined the cause all those years ago-“

 

“Yes, I recall, get on with it, Bellatrix.”  Voldemort impatiently snapped, looking at her from the corner of his eye whilst facing the Hogwarts Student.

 

“I would like to request that I get to… keep a target of your ire, my lord.”  She asked, her voice trailing off and lowering in volume under his gaze.

 

“Speak up.”

 

“I wish to keep a victim of your wrath!  As… as a small benefit to my undying loyalty.”  

 

“And that would be…?”  Voldemort asked, raising his nonexistent eyebrows at the witch before his red-eyed gaze flickered to Harry for a moment.  “Oh, don’t tell me…”

 

“Um, him… my lord.”  Bellatrix chirped uncertainly.

 

“No!  No!  Not a chance in hell, even for you, Bellatrix!”  The Dark Lord hissed out, looking genuinely disturbed at his lieutenant.  

 

“Why not?!”  The psychotic woman shrieked.

 

“Where do I even begin?!  He’s barely sixteen!  He’s my sworn and prophesied enemy!  The brat is a half-blood-“

 

“So are you.”  Harry interrupted, earning himself a cruciatus curse and a silencing spell.  

 

“Enough from the peanut gallery.”  Voldemort spat at his nemesis.  “And you-!”  He pointed at Bellatrix, “Are married, you cradle-robbing hag!”  

 

“But-!”  The dark witch squeaked.

 

“I’m not done!  What reason on this damned earth could you possibly have to desire him?  He’s a seven out of ten at best!”  

 

‘Ya know, that’s not as bad as I expected.’  Harry thought to himself.

 

“He’s part-veela, my lord.”  A calm female voice explained from the midst of his ranks.  

 

“Whoever said that, come forth.”  Riddle commanded.

 

Parting from the crowd of black cloaks came Narcissa Malfoy, with Lucius in tow, who, for whatever reason, stayed back in the crowd instead of moving with his wife.

 

“Explain.”  The Dark Lord ordered.

 

“I received a letter from Draco earlier in the year on the matter.  It seems he attracts a lot of… female attention,”  She said simply.

 

“I see, so why aren’t you acting like a buffoon like your dear sister?”  

 

“My lord, that is a personal matt-“

 

“I demand to know what could or could not compromise my ranks, Narcissa.  This information will help… if it is of such a private concern, then I promise you it will not leave this group, or I will punish the offender personally.”

 

“Very well, my lord, if you must know… I’m not attracted to men.”  

 

“… Oh.”  That was all Voldemort could say.  

 

“I feel bad for Lucius.”  Someone in the crowd muttered.  

 

“For your information,” Narcissa hissed.  “Neither of us is heterosexual!  That’s why of all the bloody pureblood arranged-shitshow-marriages, ours is the most amicable.”  

 

“I see…” Voldemort awkwardly acknowledged as he turned back to Harry.

 

‘Oh god, I hope Malfoy isn’t standing so far back because he’s attracted to me… I might vomit.’  Harry thought, right as Voldemort squinted at him.

 

“Did you just talk in my mind?”  The dark lord asked in confusion.  

 

‘… Did I?’

 

“You did!”  He hissed back.  Leaning in, the villain whispered, “… Honestly, I’m not even going to crucio you, that thought makes me ill too.”

 

‘Considering how you looked before the whole Bleach-Snake-Monster-Trademark-Pending look… odds are he’s thought of you that way.’

 

Voldemort looked like he was about to retch as chaos broke out in the graveyard.  Red stunners went flying in all directions as red-robed figures yelled, “Auror Department, surrender immediately!" 

 

Amelia Bones, despite her job not requiring her presence at an arrest, was noticeably there and shot both Voldemort and Bellatrix in the junk with some unknown sickly-yellow spell.  Once the haze of spell-trails faded, the stunned Death Eaters were taken in, and Harry was given a blanket and apparated back to Hogwarts by his adopted sister, Nymphadora.  

 

Sitting with the Tonks family, his two uncles, Susan, and his group of Gryffindors, he felt pretty good.  Even if Voldemort survived again, most of his goons were arrested with aurors as witnesses, and he won the Triwizard Tournament pretty much by accident.  Susan kept hugging him tight, placing her head on his shoulder. 

 

Life was looking good for everyone, and even Ron had a new girlfriend if the horrifyingly sweet looks he and Lavender were exchanging meant anything.  So when a grey-robed Headmaster stepped into the tent, surely it was good news, right?

 

“Harry, my boy, I dunno how to say this, but you were disqualified from the Tournament.”  Dumbledore somberly stated.

 

“What?!”  It wasn’t even Harry who responded; Hermione was red with fury on his behalf.

 

“Well, you see… It turns out the contract has a stipulation on drug use, and apparently, alcohol counts.  So in a funny twist, if you’d just had a sip from the beginning, we could’ve avoided this little rollercoaster we’ve all been a part of.”  Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly chuckle.

 

“AND YOU TOLD ME GETTING HARRY DRUNK WOULDN’T HELP!”  Sirius exclaimed, pointing two offending fingers - one in his cousin Andromeda’s face and the other in Remus’s.  

 

“Why did I trust the ministry to read the whole contract…” Hermione muttered under her breath.  “When I graduate, I’m going to win that damn election for Minister and appoint my minions as underlings… no one will suspect me until the election cycle, then boom!  Hundreds of fake votes and I will be Wizarding Britain’s first empress!  We will make this world competent or die trying!”  Hermione’s voice rose as her passionate rant continued, drawing everyone’s attention to the daydreaming-tyrant.

 

“Well… I suppose I should tell Mister Diggory that he is now the winner of the Tournament.”  Dumbledore amended, pointedly avoiding Hermione’s tirade and heading off.  

 

——————————————————————

 

“I’m gonna miss you, bro,”  Harry said, clasping the arm of the bulky Bulgarian seeker.

 

The seventh-year smirked back, laughing as he spoke: “Da!  You too, little bird-man!”  

 

“Did ‘zomeone mention birds?”  The familiarly haughty voice of an unrelenting French veela asked.  Sure enough, as the students were seeing their foreign counterparts off, Fleur and Gabrielle had made another appearance.  

 

“Hey Viktor, do you remember the first task?” Harry prodded.

 

“Da I-ohhhhh, oh hoho!”  Viktor exclaimed as he grinned.  

 

The Bulgarian held out his fist for Harry to bump.  “Iz how muggles say, aim for ‘de bushes?”  

 

“Someone’s been studying their references!”  

 

With that, the two boys ran at the perverted French girls as Viktor tackled a squawking Fleur and Harry punted Gabrielle like a football.