wo more weeks had passed by, the gentle breeze now growing stronger. The two weeks had hyped up the Triwizard Tournament to the point where nearly every single person was currently dashing through their dorms, preparing for the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations. Harry was one of the few who was not doing such a thing, but was instead pacing back and forth through the Chamber of Secrets, engaging in an educational discussion with Salazar on his wandless magic.
The past few weeks had gone fairly well for Harry. Salazar had continued to advance him in each of his magical classes; he was now at least a few months ahead in every lesson. He now got every spell perfectly on his first try, much to the ire of Hermione, and the amazement of others. His written work, however, was as lacking as ever, anchoring him to the center of the academic leaderboard. Salazar had assured Harry that they would be tackling that soon.
The portrait had also begun to teach Harry dark magic (though Salazar called it offensive magic), something Harry had been rather skeptical to try.
It turned out that he had been rather talented in the field, with Salazar even telling him that he had a gift in the art. That had been enough to get Harry to hesitantly continue learning the art; Salazar telling someone they had a gift in something was equivalent to being called a prodigy. Unfortunately, he had not been able to advance very far into the art; Salazar had claimed that if Harry wished to learn how to fight, he would need someone to fight against, or at the very least, a few training dummies.
The portrait had given Harry a rather stern lecture a week previously, explaining the difference between fighting and dueling. According to Salazar, duels were a sort of display where the participants could make attempts at being impressive. When fighting, however, there were no rules, other than kill or be killed.
Harry had been rather hesitant at accepting the way of thinking, until listening to the Salazar make a few points involving Harry's past experiences. The concept had suddenly made much more sense after that, much to Harry's annoyance.
The effects of both rituals had completely finished as well. Harry's physique had filled out rather nicely in his opinion, giving him the body of an athletic fourteen year old. His facial features had all changed slightly as well. He was now what many might consider to be relatively handsome, although he had still not quite finished growing; that was something that would take several more years. Thankfully, the change had not made Harry more similar in appearance to Tom Riddle, but rather the opposite.
Funnily enough, Harry had gotten teased a bit because of his sudden change in appearance, mostly by older students (sixth and seventh years). Nobody had yet attacked him, though many had verbally assaulted him.
It was somehow made even worse when he caught a group of sixth year Ravenclaw witches (who teased him quite often) staring at him during a visit to the library.
The teasing became practically unbearable due to the fact that he could not retaliate unless someone full out attacked him. Salazar had warned him that it would be a poor choice to attack another student; given the fact that he was considered to be a major icon in the wizarding world, doing such a thing would be catastrophic. He had been very lucky to have not ended up in hot water the first time, though that was mostly due to the timely intervention of Tonks and Hestia.
Harry was also not foolish enough to think that he was currently capable of properly taking on a group of seventh years at a time. He would either get torn to bits, or would accidentally electrocute them all to death, thanks to his poor grasp on wandless magic. Neither option had seemed overly appealing.
Hermione had initially tried to stop people from bullying Harry, though her increasing workloads (as well as her jealousy of Harry's sudden success) had prevented her from being overly effective. As for Ron, he, along with Seamus and Dean, were too busy spending most of their time in the common room (or other public areas) talking loudly about how they would soon be selected as the victorious champions of Hogwarts.
Thankfully, Tonks and Hestia had stopped many people from insulting Harry. Many people had by now seen Harry conversing happily with the two Aurors, and quickly assumed that they might end up playing favourites with him.
If anything, Hestia and Tonks did the opposite; they made him get to classes on time, and also reprimanded him harshly when they saw him nearly pull his wand out on an older Slytherin student. They two had given him the same explanation as Salazar, stating that someone of his stature would get in serious trouble for such an offense.
The three of them occasionally talked about their pasts with one another; Harry told them a small bit about his horrifying adventures, and they told him about theirs as Aurors. The stories they told him were significantly more detailed than his, but Harry did not regret keeping it brief.
If Harry was being honest, the only reason Harry had told them about his adventures was because they seemed to already know a great deal about them. Perhaps it had something to do with being an Auror, it wouldn't surprise Harry.
Either way, Harry only clarified a few questions they had on his adventures. He was not particularly interested in retelling any of the tales, particularly the ones involving Sirius or Riddle. The former involved him admitting to helping the most wanted man alive escape custody, and the latter was rather disturbing. He also made sure to keep out any mention of Voldemort, for what he felt were obvious reasons.
Harry had not yet gone so far as to tell them about his childhood. He had only told Salazar, and that was in part because he was a portrait (though also because his ancestor genuinely cared). Besides, while he liked the two Aurors, he did not trust them enough to reveal such things.
Answering a few of their questions about his adventures had somewhat backfired; Hestia had soon asked for his schedule, and the both of them were now making sure that he was always where he was meant to be. Thankfully, he was still allowed full access to the chamber (due to his Invisibility Cloak). Harry was growing to like the two Aurors, but still refrained from telling them certain things about himself. After all, they still did work for the ministry.
"Can you re-explain what you said about why my wandless magic keeps manifesting in lightning?" said Harry, turning back to the portrait.
Salazar sighed.
"Elements in particular are an excellent way to release saturated magic." explained the portrait, "Be it lightning, fire, or any other; it matters little, although I admit the two I mentioned are the most common. It is the simplest form for magic to take, and is therefore the form it will assume when intent, power, skill, or something else is lacking. That is why occurrences such as sparks, or perhaps flames, are often observed when children fail to properly use magic."
"And what did you say about Mage Magic not really being an ability?"
"A Mage is a person who carries a sort of mutation in their magical core, which is the same case for a mutation's only noticeable difference from the core of a normal wizard is that it gives a witch or wizard a greater capacity for wandless magic.
Instead of an incantation, wand motion, visualization and magical prowess, Mage Magic, or your wandless magic, requires intent, visualization, willpower, and magical prowess, and perhaps hand motions. Being a Mage merely means you have a much greater capacity for wandless magic, nothing more. Because the mutation is a good thing, people assume that it must be an ability rather than a mutation. They can not seemingly grasp that not all mutations are bad."
"But then why did you call it an ability?" Harry asked weakly.
The portrait shrugged.
"So that you would be able to understand it. Besides, you probably wouldn't have taken it well if the first thing I told you upon meeting you was that you had a mutation. But forget about all this Mage business, we won't be starting this till next year at the earliest."
"But we'll still have the discussions, right?" Harry asked.
"There is no way I would teach you if we did not have these discussions, so I suppose the answer is yes."
"Alright, fair enough. Moving on, I was wondering why we haven't done any rituals other than the first two."
"That is because your body requires time to fully adapt to the changes of your previous rituals."
"But the two of them finished like a - " started Harry, before the portrait interrupted him.
"The rituals finished a week ago." Salazar corrected, "Your body will not have finished adapting for another month at the least."
"Alright then, fine. I have to go soon, the delegations should be here in a few hours."
"Inform me if you spot anyone of interest. And spend more time with your friends." said Salazar, "It is not wise to grow too attached to a portrait."
"Don't flatter yourself." Harry replied cheekily.
"Either way, my point stands. You said you were slowly drifting off from them, it is not wise to walk alone, particularly when you are still much weaker than your opponents."
"I know, I know." said Harry hastily, "I'll spend more time around them. But if Ron doesn't shut up about the tournament, and Hermione about my sudden increase in talent, I'll have a hard time."
"If they are as you say they are, make new friends." Salazar said in an uncaring tone.
"They've been with me since the moment I came here." defended Harry, "I won't abandon them."
"Perhaps it is the fact that they have been by your side for so long that blinds you to their flaws." the portrait commented, "In your haste to find people who care for you, you overlook the many issues they hold. Take your godfather, for example."
"Sirius is a good man." said Harry, getting angrier by the minute.
"Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn't. But you wouldn't know that, would you? After all, you must have spent a grand total of, what, two hours in his presence?"
Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. He understood the point the portrait had made, even if he didn't like it.
"I am not saying that he is bad," said Salazar gently, "I am saying that you should look at things from an outsiders point of view. From that view, your two friends do not appear as they should, and you know little about your godfather."
Harry nodded slightly, listening sadly to the portrait's every word.
"From that same point of view, your two Auror friends seem to be very excellent candidates for friends. They seem to care about you more than your scar, which is a bonus. They show no jealousy, only compassion and care. You have also mentioned that you are growing close."
"In a way, I guess." said Harry, "Although I'm not sure if I'm close to them, or I'm just not close to anyone else."
"Grow closer to them." instructed Salazar, "Not for the fact that they are Aurors, although I suppose that is useful as well. Do it because they seem to truly care, from what you have told me, of course."
"Yeah, okay." Harry responded quietly, "I better head out now, the delegations will be arriving in an hour, there's going to be an evening feast. The last thing I need is to be seen in the girl's lavatory right now."
He paused for a moment, before turning to Salazar.
"Why did you put the entrance to the chamber in the girl's lavatory?"
"I didn't." said the portrait casually, "There wasn't any 'plumbing' in my time. You just used to pull your robes down and - "
" - Alright, I got the gist! And how did Riddle find it?"
"He told me that he had been searching for it since his second year. He eventually began to grow desperate in his search for the chamber. He systematically checked every room in the school he knew of. All that was left at the time was the bathrooms, the headmaster's office, and the staff offices."
Harry chuckled quietly at the idea of a teenage Voldemort getting caught by a group of girls in their bathroom. It was a rather amusing visualization.
I would rather Riddle give me the scar on my forehead than scar me for life. Poor girls.
He said goodbye to the portrait, and began his journey back to Gryffindor tower.
Harry slowly dressed himself in the fourth year Gryffindor dorms, a mere half hour after his conversation with Salazar. The words of the portrait had hit Harry pretty hardly; he was no longer even slightly in the mood for another assembly.
It wasn't so much the fact that Salazar had said what he had, but rather how accurate he had been. Ron had always been jealous and spiteful, but now that Harry thought about it, he didn't really have any redeeming qualities. Sure, he was fairly funny, but the jokes he made were typically at the expense of others. Considering that Harry was bullied at least thrice a week (and much more often before Hogwarts), Harry could no longer bring himself to find the redhead to be humorous.
Hermione was better, as she was tactful and really did care, but the moment Harry had finally become her better at something, she had become distant. Though she did still talk to him much more than Ron did, which had to be a bonus. She also hadn't deluded herself into thinking that she would become some great champion in the near future. That could only be a good thing.
Harry resolved that he would not abandon them; they had been by his side from the moment he stepped into the magical world, and he would not just throw that away, not even based on the words of his ancestor. He would, however, be much more cautious around them.
Then there was Tonks and Hestia. Harry had to admit that he was closer to them than he was to anyone else (excluding Salazar, Ron, Hermione, and perhaps Hedwig if she counted), although he wasn't sure that meant much. The few times that he was not in the chamber or Gryffindor Tower, he could almost always be found by their side. Harry had no problem listening to Salazar's advice when it came to them.
The only other people of significance that came to mind were Sirius and the Gryffindor Quidditch team. For obvious reasons, Harry had not been in excellent contact with the former of the two. As for the latter, the only ones he was particularly close to were Angelina, Alicia, and Katie. He was friends with Fred and George, but that was about it. The relationship he held with the other three was that of a younger brother and three older sisters. It was similar to the ones he held with Tonks and Hestia, although the latter two were more motherly, and the bond he held with them was stronger.
Harry roughly shoved his white button up shirt onto his body, tying his tie in a similar fashion. He quickly checked himself in the mirror, making sure that he was presentable. He was now a noticeably attractive young boy, though it was plain to all that he still had some growing left to do. His cheekbones were now very high, his skin slightly tanned, his eyes carried a beautiful shine to them, and his hair neatly combed.
Harry stepped out from in front of the mirror as he put on his robes, joining the other four males in their shared dorms. They had all clearly attempted to get dressed in the 'proper way', as requested by McGonagall. Unfortunately, none had succeeded; Ron's robes were clearly covered in dirt, Dean's shirt was missing a button, and Neville's tie appeared to be strangling him.
Harry couldn't particularly blame them for their lack of etiquette; he too had been equally inept when it came to such things merely a day prior. Salazar had spent most of last night teaching Harry how to clothe himself properly. The portrait had not liked the idea of his heir being incapable of dressing himself up.
"You look good, mate!" said Seamus as he tried to redo his belt buckle.
"Course he does, Mum taught him how to clean himself up over the summer." said Ron dismissively, fumbling as he tried to wipe off dirt.
Deciding against reminding Ron that Mrs. Weasley had likely been teaching him the same for years, he pulled his wand out and approached the boy.
"Scourgify." muttered Harry, his wand pointed at Ron's robes. The mud that had previously covered the edges of the robes had now vanished, as well as Ron's frown.
"Cheers, Harry!"
After the remaining three had gotten themselves cleaned up to the best of their abilities, the group made their way down to the common room. Most of the students were already seated in different places across the room, whispering quietly to themselves. Just in front of the portrait hole stood Professor McGonagall, clearly waiting for the final students to show up.
"Looking good, Harry!" whispered Alicia as Angelina ruffled Harry's hair playfully. The act earned a glare from McGonagall, who watched as Alicia quickly combed Harry's hair with her fingers. McGonagall looked away once she was satisfied, though not without a disapproving shake of her head.
"What did you do to make her all grumpy?" Katie whispered to Harry.
"What makes you think I did anything? It's probably because of the arrivals; must be stressed or something." Harry said in an equally quiet voice.
Within another five minutes, the remainder of Gryffindor house was now seated throughout the common room, awaiting their head of house's word.
"When we arrive at the Great Hall," began McGonagall, "You are to remain organized. There will be now fooling around, and if anyone is caught using magic they will be given detention for a week."
She scanned the Gryffindor common room, her eyes stopping slightly as she passed Fred, George, and Harry.
"Do try to impress our guests. They are the best of their schools, many of them are people of great influence. You may recognize a few of them, just as they may recognize a few of you. You will not, I repeat, you will not embarrass Gryffindor House in front of the delegations. Not now, and not during any other point of the school year. Get up, organize yourselves from youngest to oldest, and follow me."
The students did as told, quietly following Professor McGonagall out of the portrait hole and through the empty halls. They soon saw their Hufflepuff classmates as they reached one of the many staircases leading towards the Great Hall. Each of the Hufflepuff students looked equally as excited and nervous as most of the Gryffindors felt.
The two houses, as well as Professors McGonagall and Sprout, made their way down to the hall, where the Slytherins and Ravenclaws were waiting for them. The sky was a dark blue, slowly turning black. A gentle breeze swept through the open doors, causing many of the younger ones to shiver slightly.
As Harry and his classmates were settling down at their table, Harry felt a jolt of energy surge through his body. On instinct, the Potter heir turned around, his eyes searching the Great Hall. He could just barely make out the form of Hedwig, who was gliding towards him at a fast pace. She silently landed on Harry shoulder, where she began, as usual, to nip Harry's ear affectionately.
Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed slightly, but the only thing she said about it was simply, "Keep her quiet."
The students, staff, and Aurors of Hogwarts, along with Hedwig, all waited in anticipation. By now the students of Hogwarts had completely abandoned any ideas of organization, simply standing (or sitting) wherever they desired. For most, that meant whichever place gave the best view through the windows. The professors had tried to restore order for about five minutes, before hastily giving up. They too were excited to see the arrivals.
"How do you reckon they're going to arrive?" asked Dean to the other fourth year Gryffindors.
"Maybe they can apparate! They might be allowed to do that under the age of seventeen, wherever they come from!" Ron whispered excitedly.
"You can't apparate on the Hogwarts Grounds." said both Harry and Hermione, resulting in many chuckles from those around them. Hermione smiled happily at Harry, her buck teeth showing slightly.
"What then, reckon they might come on broomsticks?" asked Seamus, "Or maybe the train?"
"I doubt it." whispered Hermione, "If they were using the train, they would both have to get to King's Cross, which is rather inefficient. And I can't see a group of students flying thousands of miles, that would take too much effort and time."
"So then how are they going to come?" asked Pavarti, sneakily threading a butterfly ornament into her hair when Professor McGonagall's back was turned.
Parvati's question was answered by a shout from one of the younger Hufflepuff's, who was pointing at the sky in awe.
"Would you look at that?" she screamed.
"That, as Ms. Perveniet has chosen to announce," began Professor Dumbledore, pausing as the students chuckled at the blushing girl, "Is the Beauxbatons' Carriage, which contains the school's delegations." Dumbledore made his way to the front of the hall, clearly planning on being the first to greet the guests.
The students watched as the carriage flew closer to the grounds, becoming easier to see as it did so. The carriage was painted a pale blue that matched the sky, decorated with what appeared to be ornate gold designs. It was being pulled by seven incredibly large, white, winged horses, all of whom were proportional to the rather large carriage.
It looks like a large, fancy, French version of Father Christmas' sleigh.
The students of Hogwarts watched as the carriage dropped down onto the earth floor, the Abraxan pulling it skidding to a halt. The carriage had landed on the Hogwarts grounds, a few dozen metres away from them.
Harry watched as the door of the carriage shot wide open, with what appeared to be a young boy in pale blue robes springing from within. The boy fumbled with a rollout carpet for a few moments, before managing to spread it across the floor, creating a walkway. Once he had done so, the student bowed slightly, his right hand outstretched.
From within the carriage came the largest woman Harry had ever seen.
"Blimey, she's huge!" whispered Ron, attracting the attention of everyone around him.
"Who is she?" asked Dean.
"I dunno. She's got to be a head taller than Hagrid!" Seamus hissed. Many of the other students were whispering to one another, clearly fascinated by the woman's size. They all watched as a group of around two dozen student's came out from the large carriage, many wrapped in scarves that hid their faces from view. The French Delegations began making their way to the steps to the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was happily waiting for them.
"Bet you ten sickles Hagrid's going to try something by the end of the year." said Seamus, sniggering slightly.
"Shut it, or I'll put you in detention." said a voice from behind them. The speaker pulled down her hood to reveal bright magenta hair. It was Tonks.
"Wotcher, Harry, Hedwig!" she exclaimed standing behind him at the Gryffindor table. He smiled at her, Hedwig ruffling her feathers as she hooted quietly in greeting. Harry and Tonks turned back to the windows. Just as the French Delegations were metres away from Dumbledore, they all heard Lee Jordan yell loudly, his nose pressed against the glass.
"Would you look at the lake!"
The once semi-peaceful surface of the Great Lake was now creating dangerous waves, all of which seemed to originate from the same place. The waves grew larger and larger, eventually stopping once they had reached the size of thirty feet. When they did so, a large boat had appeared, which quickly anchored itself to the shore.
"How is that even possible?" asked Harry, turning to Tonks.
"It's magic, must be enchanted to move faster underwater."
"No, I mean, it's a lake! How'd the boat even get there?"
Tonks paused for a moment, clearly understanding what Harry was saying.
"It's not actually a lake." said Hermione knowingly, "It just looks like a really large one, from this angle. If you go beyond the Hogwarts grounds you'll see it keeps going on both sides."
"So it's really just an incredibly large river with practically no current?" asked Harry, watching as Hermione nodded.
Then why name it the 'Great Lake'?"
Hermione shrugged.
"Maybe because it looks like a lake from the Hogwarts grounds. If you continued walking along both sides for quite a while you'd see that the water thins out significantly, before expanding. It's like having a dam with a very small hole on both ends of the lake, which is why there's no current."
Harry and Tonks both nodded, turning back to watch Dumbledore greet the French Delegations.
"Where's Hestia?" whispered Harry, his eyes still facing forward.
"She's behind the staff table, with about half of the Aurors. I'm only here because I asked to walk through the tables. They have one Auror per table." replied Tonks. Harry turned his head towards the staff table, and sure enough, Hestia was standing there. He smiled at her, earning a discrete one from the Auror, before she motioned for him to pay attention, still smiling.
"Back to your seats, now!" yelled Professor McGonagall, causing all of the students to reluctantly return to their seats.
Harry and the others watched as Dumbledore greeted the giant lady, who they soon learned was named 'Madame Maxime'. After Dumbledore noticed that many of the French students were shivering slightly, he allowed them to take a seat, which they did so at the Ravenclaw table. Madame Maxime sat in a seat to the side of Dumbledore, towering above the other staff members.
Those in the hall watched as the Durmstrang Delegations made their way to the place where Dumbledore stood. As the delegations drew closer, many of those within the hall began to whisper excitedly.
"Krum!" Ron exclaimed, his voice suddenly hoarse, "That's Victor Krum, that is!"
Many others in the hall whispered in excitement. Harry even saw a few older female students fighting over a piece of lipstick, which they intended to use in order to procure an autograph.
"I hope the delegations don't act that way when they see me." Harry whispered to Tonks, motioning towards the group of girls. Upon catching Harry's line of sight, she laughed gently, before turning back to Harry.
"They won't, don't worry. Most people I know think about you the same way they do with Dumbledore." she said quietly, as Dumbledore introduced the hall to the newcomers.
"In other words?" asked Harry.
"With awe or reverence. That's how I used to, you know. Same with everyone I know."
Harry smiled widely at that, turning to look at Tonks.
"There is no need to bow, my dear mortal." Harry said jokingly in a deep voice, causing Tonks to blush slightly, as well as attempt to hide her laughter.
"You're very different from what I expected, you know." whispered Tonks, as the two of them turned back to Dumbledore, "Anyway, most of the people in the auror office know about your annual adventures, Dumbledore had to tell the Ministry by law. The only person who is supposed to know is Madam Bones, not even Fudge should, but most of the Aurors have heard parts of the conversations.
Madam Bones practically forced us to keep quiet, we're not allowed to say a word about it to anyone. But a lot of the office doesn't believe it, I don't think they like the idea of a kid being better than them - "
" - It was almost entirely luck, but go on."
"Right. Anyway, we never really heard much about whatever happened last year, Madam Bones think's Dumbledore's hiding something.
But in our part of the ministry, people think you're like a reincarnated Merlin, because we know better than most how difficult it is to deal with those things. But the public thinks of you the same way, because - "
" - They're sheep, yeah, I know." Harry quietly interrupted.
"Not the words I was going to use, but yes." admitted Tonks. They sat in silence for a few minutes as Dumbledore continued on with his introductory speech, before one of the Aurors behind the staff table motioned to Tonks.
"I need to go; the feast will begin soon, I need to go." she said, waving goodbye to Harry and scratching Hedwig gently behind the ear. Tonks, as well as the rest of the Aurors, made their way to the entrance and departed. Harry turned back to the front of the hall, finally giving Dumbledore his fullest attention.
" - a few basic rules to the Tournament, which are to be discussed after the feast. But for now, let us begin to eat!"
Dumbledore waved his arms in a sort of bizarre gesture, the once empty plates now filling up with food. Harry turned to Hermione, putting food onto his plate as he did so.
"Did he say anything important?" he asked casually, ignoring the look of annoyance that had etched itself onto Hermione's face.
"Maybe you would know if you had been paying attention!" Hermione hissed.
"He didn't, just introduced the headmaster and headmistress from the other schools. Also introduced two ministry folks, Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch, I think." said Dean, "He said he'd talk about the important stuff like rules after the feast."
Harry quickly inspected the staff table, and sure enough, Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch Sr. were both seated. Bagman was chatting happily to Mr. Crouch, seemingly not noticing that the man seemed interested in just about everything other than what Bagman was saying.
Whoever thought having those two work together would be a good idea.
The majority of the Gryffindor table had begun to eat, with only Ron refraining from doing so. Instead, the redhead was looking around the hall, particularly at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. When his eyes returned to the Gryffindor table, his eyebrows rose upon seeing the faces of his peers, their eyes all locked onto his form, clearly surprised.
"What?" he asked, as he began to dig into the food.
"What could possibly have been more important than you filling yourself to the brim with food?" asked Fred.
Ron's eyes narrowed at that, before he looked at all the Gryffindor faces nearby him (the fourth, fifth, and sixth years). When he spoke, his voice was dark and foreboding.
"We've got to see the delegations properly, don't we? If we're going to be champions, we ought to know the enemy, right?"
"Oh, shut up, Ickle Ronniekins." said George.
"'Know the enemy', what's this rubbish?" added Fred.
"You don't understand!" Ron exclaimed indignantly, "You've got to know the strengths and weaknesses, it's like chess! Krum's going to be Durmstrang Champion for sure, but we need to know more about Beauxbatons! Just wait for them to remove their bloody scarves, we'll know by then."
It was at that moment that Harry decided to tune out of the conversation.
Harry spent most of the feast simply feeding Hedwig, as well as occasionally ruffling her feathers. This way both of them got fed; Hedwig would not accept food for a while until Harry too had eaten his fair share.
After a while, Harry noticed that the once loud voices of those around him had now dimmed significantly.
"Are you still wanting the Bouillabaisse?" said a beautifully soft voice, which carried a slight french accent.
Harry looked up, his eyes glancing at the girl who had just spoken. She had waist length silvery-blonde hair, large, deep blue eyes, and high cheekbones. Her skin tone was slightly tanned (similar to his own), and her perfect teeth sparkled like fresh snow.
She makes the Veela from the World Cup look like normal women.
The moment Harry's eyes landed upon her, he felt a slight pull of his magic. The feeling was very similar to what had happened at the Quidditch World Cup, which meant that this girl was indeed a Veela (although what he felt now was slightly stronger than whatever it had been in the World Cup). Harry was truthfully more than a little surprised to see that he was still not affected by any allure, though he did not show it.
"No, it's all yours." said Harry in a causal tone. He carefully picked up the bowl and handed it to her.
"Merci." said the girl, her voice wavering slightly. It was another clear sign that she was a Veela, the fact that she was so evidently surprised when Harry had acted normally. Truthfully, Harry himself was surprised that he didn't do something stupid, even if he couldn't truly feel her allure. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen (and definitely would ever see) in his life.
So it'll be Krum and the Veela girl, I'll have to tell Salazar.
The only champion that Harry wasn't yet sure of was the Hogwarts Champion. Salazar had pointed out that it was most likely to be a sixth year, as the seventh years had their mandatory N.E.W.T. 's to worry about, and the sixth years would be the most prepared out of the remaining students. Harry was willing to bet on either Angelina, Cedric Diggory, or Roger Davis. He was particularly hoping it was one of the first two; Roger Davis had been one of the many students to mistreat him during the Chamber of Secrets debacle.
Harry snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing Ron's voice.
"She's a Veela!" Ron whisper-yelled, absent-mindedly whipping the drool of his chin.
"Bloody hell, she's beautiful." Dean muttered. The rest of the males at the table nodding their heads in agreement. Even Neville seemed to agree with the statement, though Harry couldn't fault him for doing so.
"Whoever's Hogwarts' Champion is a lucky bastard, they might be able to chat her up a bit." muttered Seamus. Ron and the other nodded enthusiastically at that. They were all still watching the girl as she made her way to her table. Harry noted that she seemed fairly annoyed with the attention, not that Harry could blame her.
"I'm sure she's the most angelic thing in the world," Hermione said angrily, "But tell me, have you ever actually talked to her?"
"Harry has!" Ron immediately pointed out, "It can't be long before we get our shot."
"Harry handed her a bowl of food!"
"He still talked to her though, didn't he?"
It looked as though Hermione was struggling not to stab Ron with the knife she held in her hand.
"That does remind me," Angelina whispered, so that only Alicia, Katie, and Harry could hear her, "How come you weren't all weird when she talked to you? Those idiots were drooling when they saw her."
"Do you - er - bat for the other team, by any chance?" Katie asked quietly.
Harry paused for a moment, trying to understand what she meant. Upon realizing, his eyes widened dramatically.
"What - No! No, I don't, Katie!" Harry hissed, his face flushed red with embarrassment.
"Okay, okay, just had to be sure." Katie comforted, giggling as she did so.
"That's strange then, isn't it?" asked Alicia to the other three, "Is it possible to be resistant to Veela, or something?"
"Probably," supplied Angelina, "I mean, people don't really know much about Veela, do they. She's even better looking than the ones at the Cup, maybe that has something to do with it . . ."
Harry continued to eat his food, occasionally listening in on the conversation the rest of the fourth year Gryffindors were having. They had not yet stopped speaking of Veela, as Ron, Dean, and Seamus, were all plotting ways in which they would be able to seduce the poor girl. Most of their plans seemed to center around them being chosen Hogwarts Champion, and Harry did not have it in him to burst their highly unrealistic bubble.
The other girls did not have as casual a reaction as the three chasers did. Hermione in particular did not seem to like the fact that her classmates were so head over heels when it came to the Veela girl. Harry narrowed his eyes upon hearing Hermione's argument, which seemed to revolve around the idea that the girl might be a Veela.
"So what if she's a Veela?" Harry asked heatedly, "Why would that even matter?"
"It's not the fact that she's a Veela, it's what it implies." Hermione argued back, "If she's a Veela it means she has an 'allure', which is magically causing people to be attracted to her! It's barbaric!"
"Hermione," said Dean, speaking in a tone one might use when speaking to a child who had said something particularly foolish, "If someone looks like that, it won't be an 'allure', or whatever, that makes people fancy them."
Harry decided to withdraw himself from this conversation as well; Hermione was clearly about to deliver a speech of sorts.
After another twenty minutes, the last of the food was gone, with only crumbs remaining on the desert plates. As Dumbledore stood up from his seat, the plates vanished, leaving the tables as bare as they were an hour prior.
"Now that we are all watered and fed," began Dumbledore, making his way towards the lectern, "We may proceed with the Triwizard Tournament."
Many of the students located around the Great Hall seemed to sit slightly straighter in their seats. Harry even saw Ron smiling arrogantly to himself; to be fair, many others around the hall wore similar expressions.
"But before we might proceed, a few rules are to be announced. These rules have been approved by the British, French, and Bulgarian Ministries, as well as the ICW. We will also be announcing some of the finer details as of now. Mr. Crouch, the floor is yours."
At Dumbledore's words, the entrance doors to the Great Hall swung open, revealing the Auror Guard, as well as what appeared to be a dozen reporters. Each of them settled into the back of the hall, where they stood quietly with the Aurors. Many of them pulled out pieces of parchment and quills, a few even holding cameras.
Harry also noted that four of the Aurors seemed to be struggling with a large crate, though most seemed to not notice them.
"Excellent." Ron whispered excitedly, "It's the press."
Mr. Crouch made his way over to Dumbledore's lectern, placing a few pieces of parchment onto it. He quickly put on a pair of reading glasses, and began to address the hall.
"The Triwizard Tournament is, as you know, a competition between the three premier European Schools of Magic. The International Confederation of Wizards, or the ICW, would like to confirm that we will indeed be using the Recorder Glass created by Camille Estelle. This will allow for witches and wizards all over the world to view the tournament, in public areas that are approved by the ICW."
Many of the reporters hastily jotted down what Crouch had said. Harry watched them with interest, before catching Hestia's eyes. She shook her head slightly, before nodding towards Crouch. Harry turned back towards Mr. Crouch against his will, listening to the stream of monotonous words that flooded from his mouth.
"There will be six different parts to the tournament, four of which will be broadcasted."
There were many mutters at this statement. Ron in particular seemed as though he were about to explode in happiness; it could not be more clear that he desired championship very dearly.
"There will be the Selection of Champions, the Wand Weighing Ceremony, the Yule Ball, and the Three Tasks. The Wand Weighing will be a private event, only seen by the champions, their headmasters and headmistresses, the wand judge, and a few reporters. As for the Yule Ball, that will be an event only held within the school; only the students, staff, and select guests will be allowed."
The tension in the hall was very great now. It was silent to the point where Harry was sure a pin could be dropped and everyone would hear it.
"If you would please bring the Goblet of Fire." said Crouch, looking at the Aurors in the back of the hall. The four Aurors who were struggling with the crate now walked forward, stopping just before Dumbledore's Lectern. With a wave of his wand, Crouch vanished the crate, revealing a rather large (and equally beautiful) goblet.
"If one wishes to enter the Triwizard Tournament, they are to enter a slip of paper into the Goblet of Fire, containing their name and school. The goblet will then select the student it believes to be the most worthy of competing. The selected students will be the ones to represent their school."
If possible, the hall had gotten quieter.
"By entering yourself, you are agreeing to a magical contract. Should you choose to back out of the Tournament, you risk the loss of your magic."
Nobody in the hall was moving, not even the reporters or Aurors.
"Lastly, the Triwizard Tournament is only open to those over the age of seventeen."
It was as though a bomb had gone off; the silence was now a thing of the past, with students from all four tables standing and yelling, voicing their anger. The Slytherin table even tried (and failed) to do so in a dignified manner, though it was clear that they too were clearly upset. Many of the reporters observed the reaction of the students, jotting down the occasional note or two.
"Son of a bloody bitch!" yelled Ron, although most could not hear him, as they too were yelling.
"SILENCE!" roared Dumbledore, sending a firecracker from the tip of his wand.
The hall quieted down, although the anger and rage of many had not even slightly vanished.
"To ensure that nobody breaks the age restrictions," continued Crouch, "Professor Dumbledore will be placing an age line around the Goblet of Fire, to ensure that no one who is underage may compete. The age rules have been added due to safety reasons; as many of you may know, the Tournament is not the safest of events."
With that, Mr. Crouch reclaimed his seat at the staff table, Dumbledore moving towards the Lectern as he did so.
"As that is all, I bid you farewell and good night!" said Dumbledore in a cheerful tone, although there was a touch of anger hidden deep within it.
To be fair, our reactions weren't the best.
Harry rose from his seat at the Gryffindor table, others in the hall doing the same. Harry had chosen to walk with the three chasers, not interested in dealing with Ron at the moment. The four of them paused at the door, allowing for the Durmstrang Headmaster to lead his pupils through.
"Thank you," said the man, turning to look Harry in the face. He froze when he did so, his eyes looking at Harry's scar with fear. By now nearly a fourth of those who remained in the hall stood still, waiting for the Durmstrang Headmaster to continue. A few of the students even stood on their tippy-toes.
"Yes, Karkaroff, that's Harry Potter." said Mad-Eye Moody from behind the two of them. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw the Veela girl's eyes narrow slightly at that. The other delegations seemed equally intrigued, many whispering to one another (although just as many of them had their eyes trained on the Veela's backside). The students of Hogwarts had no visible reaction, all of them knowing exactly who he was.
Within a few short moments, Harry and those around him had made their way out of the entrance, now walking towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry listened as many of the students complained, the loudest being Ron, Dean, and Seamus.
"It just isn't fair!" Ron roared as they entered the common room.
"Well, to be honest, the sixth years are the most likely to succeed," said Harry to the others, "You know, they have learned more magic and all that."
"So? We've been in more life threatening situations, we can do this!" Ron said angrily, "We have more experience with dangerous stuff!" The whole of Gryffindor House had now taken seats with the common room, either listening to the conversation or fuming quietly to themselves.
"And have you ever done them in front of millions of people?" asked Hermione.
"They're using the Recorder Glass thing, you'd only be able to see the people in the stands!" argued Ron, "That would only be about a thousand people!"
"And have you done anything dangerous in front of a thousand people?" asked Fred scathingly.
"You think it's unfair for you, what about us?" asked George, indicating to his brother and himself, "We turn seventeen just a few months after the selection, how's that fair?"
The Gryffindors continued to argue amongst each other, causing Harry to develop a rather irritating headache. He closed his eyes, bringing his fingers to his head.
If only they'd shut up, end this infernal ruckus. Please just SHUT UP!
The entirety of the Gryffindor common room had suddenly gone quiet.
Harry opened his eyes. Fred, George, and Ron, as well as many others, were clearly trying to speak, though no sounds left their mouth. Harry had the strange feeling that if he, and only he, were to open his mouth, noise would come out.
After a few moments, someone had managed to perform a nonverbal spell to reverse the silencing effects. After that, many of the older students went around the common room, pointing their wands at younger students and muttering, "Finite Incantatem!". After they were done, Angelina turned to Fred and George, her eyes narrowed.
"I swear it wasn't us." muttered George. Fred nodded his head in agreement.
Angelina's eyes narrowed further, before she sighed.
"It's probably just a prank or something. The prefects can tell Professor McGonagall in the morning." she said tiredly.
The Gryffindors slowly made their way up to bed, many still complaining about not being allowed entry into the Triwizard Tournament.
" - and everyone just went silent?" asked Salazar for the third time, curiously.
It was about midnight, several hours after the silencing incident in the Gryffindor common room. Harry had taken his Invisibility Cloak with him and snuck into the chamber (as he did every night). He was currently sitting on the carpeted floor of Salazar's study.
"Yes, they all just shut up." Harry repeated exasperatedly, "Not a word, nothing. No noise at all."
Salazar sat in his frame, stroking his goatee. After a few moments, he muttered, "It appears as though you wandless magic is developing faster than I thought."
"That was my Mage Magic?" Harry asked, "I thought they were only related to elements?"
The portrait's expression suddenly morphed to one of confusion, before switching to annoyance.
"Forget what that blasted goblin told you in Gringotts." said the portrait, "While they are correct in some parts, they still understand and know very little. Simply put, a Mage is a witch or wizard who can use magic normally, with a wand, but also in a different way. This different way is through intent and power. All they do is imagine what they want to happen, focus upon it, and supply the power. Because this has a lot to do with imagination, a mage could use their power to create and control elements."
"But then how come I kept on accidentally creating lightning?" asked Harry, "How come lightning was, before now, the only thing I could do with Mage Magic?
"You clearly associated your Mage powers with lightning and storms." stated the portrait, "And as I informed you previously, lightning, and fire, I suppose, are two of the easiest forms for saturated magic to assume, of course it is easier to produce. Most other elements are also very easy to use, though not to the extreme extent that those are. That remains true for all mages, it's the reason they use elemental magic so often! But forget that, did you begin to unconsciously associate your wandless magic with lightning?"
Harry thought back, remembering his conversation with Bogrod at Gringotts. He slowly nodded his head.
"Well there you have it!' Salazar exclaimed in annoyance, "Stop making that association and you will have more control over your wandless magic."
"Can you please just begin to teach me the basics of wandless magic?" asked Harry, "Nothing too much, just the basics so I understand it better, and don't accidentally kill someone or something."
The portrait paused for a moment, his eyes narrowed.
"I'll give you spoken lessons until the end of the year, with no magic being used." said Salazar, "If you don't destroy the place, I'll begin teaching you Occlumency and control, and slowly begin teaching you how to control it."
The portrait paused, before seemingly remembering something important.
"Your Mage Magic draws from your magical core, just as your normal magic." Salazar informed him, "When you get drained from using it, that is your magical core that is drained."
"So all those times I couldn't feel the energy in my veins, I was magically drained?" asked Harry, slightly panicked.
"Yes." sighed Salazar, "If you had actually tried using your normal magic during those times, you would soon realize you would be incapable of doing so."
"Right." said Harry, "Good to know."
"All wizards are technically capable of Mage Magic." continued Salazar, "All wandless magic is Mage Magic, and vise versa. They have the same general principle, requiring intent, focus, willpower, and so on, rather than an incantation and wand motion."
"So Dumbledore and Voldemort can technically use Mage Magic?"
"Mage Magic and wandless magic are the same thing with different names. They do not work the same as normal magic. But yes, Riddle and Dumbledore can both use it, although they will never be even remotely close to your level, regardless of how hard they try."
Harry nodded curiously.
"We must move on, but know this: while they are similar, wandless magic and wand magic can not accomplish the same things." noted Salazar, "You can not use curses, hexes, or jinxes wandlessly, just as you can not create constructs based solely on your imagination with a wand. I will explain more once you have developed a deeper understanding with your emotions, so we can safely and truly begin Occlumency. The art will make it much easier for you to use your magic with control, wandless or not."
"Now, you told me the delegations arrive today." said Salazar, "Any thoughts on who the foreign champions might be?"
"From Durmstrang, Victor Krum." said Harry, "He's the most famous and skilled seeker in the world."
Salazar nodded slowly, "And for Beauxbatons?" he asked.
"This girl I met during the feast, she's definitely a Veela." said Harry, "She seems to be very powerful."
Salazar's eyes narrowed, before asking Harry what he thought to be a rather odd question.
"How attractive was she?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, how attractive was she?"
Harry paused for a moment, humoring the portrait, "She made the Veela I saw at the World Cup look ugly."
"If that is the case, I believe you may be correct," said Salazar. He continued upon seeing the confused look on Harry's face, "A Veela's beauty is proportional to the strength of their magical ability. She is most likely impressively talented, especially for her age."
"I didn't know that." noted Harry, "Oh, they put an age restriction on the tournament, nobody under the age of seventeen can enter."
"How did your friend take that?" asked Salazar in a joking tone.
"Swimmingly, quite literally as well; I swear he was trying to drown himself in the showers."