Harry paced back and forth within the Chamber of Secrets, his wand held by his side. Today was the day of the first task, which would be broadcast live to the world.
"This is a very big day for you, perhaps a day of greater significance than you might realize it to be." said Salazar, sitting up straight within the frame of his portrait.
"I highly doubt that." muttered Harry sarcastically.
"Oh?" asked Salazar, "And why is that?"
"It's just a tournament, a form of entertainment. The sheep get the entertainment they want, and myself and the other champions all suffer."
Salazar shook his head slightly before nodding somewhere behind Harry. He turned around, quickly spotting what the portrait was looking at.
It was the chess board that Salazar had shown him during his first visit to the chamber. It seemed to be practically identical to how it was when Harry had first seen it, thought there was one noticeable difference.
The silver queen had moved to the center of the board, now capable of attacking nearly every piece on the board.
Harry turned back to Salazar, who was smiling at him.
"The silver queen represents me, right?"
Salazar nodded slowly. Harry walked toward the board, studying it much more closely.
"I'm in a position where I can attack almost anyone." noted Harry, "But I'm also incredibly vulnerable."
"Indeed you are." said Salazar, "You are one of the greats in your world - or will be, anyway, - and yet nobody has ever really seen you. This is your debut of sorts; today will show everyone how impressive or unimpressive you are."
"I thought you warned me to not attract too much attention?"
"I told you not to display any forms of immense power." corrected Salazar, "If you displayed a power that nobody else had, such as your wandless magic, people in powerful positions would feel threatened. You are simply demonstrating knowledge on a single powerful spell. Nobody will have seen the spell before, they will not know how much power you require to use it."
"Would it take a large amount of power to use it?"
"Normally it would. But thanks to it being derived from wandless magic, and you being a Mage, it will not be nearly as hard for you. Were you not a Mage, you would certainly not be capable of using the spell."
"Fair enough." said Harry, continuing his pacing through the study.
"It's a lot harder than it sounds, you know." Harry commented after a few minutes, "Making it seem like everything I'm just using a random, powerful spell I found in the library. Are you sure most people won't suspect that I'm a Mage?"
"Most will, considering that it is nonverbal." declared Salazar, "Not that it matters, they won't know the spell anyway. But it is that lack of knowledge that protects you."
"And Dumbledore?"
"He will certainly be curious as to how you have learnt it. But I do not think it will be anything more than simple curiosity. If he is as you say he is, he will understand that the school had countless ways for you to have learnt a unique spell or two. I doubt he will suspect you of being a Mage."
"Good." said Harry, "The last thing I need is for Dumbledore to be suspicious of me. He could destroy me in the blink of an eye."
Salazar shook his head.
"You must stop thinking of Dumbledore and Riddle to be leagues above you." Salazar reprimanded, "While it is true at the moment, it will not always be so. But if you think in such a way, you will continue to do so, even when you are at or have surpassed their level."
"You seem oddly certain that I'll reach their level." noted Harry.
"I am certain you will. Your magical power is growing at incredible rates, and you must remember that you have an incredible advantage over them. Besides, one's magical power stops to grow as you get older. Their magical power levels are likely stagnant.
"And experience?" asked Harry, "You've always told me knowledge and experience are the most important factor."
"You have experience to a certain extent, and you don't need nearly as much knowledge, you have a shortcut."
"That being?"
"Your wandless magic. Once you master it, you will be able to create things simply by willing them into existence. It will greatly decrease the knowledge you must gain to match them."
"Wandless magic uses a much greater amount of magical power than normal magic." argued Harry.
"And in return, you do not need a wand. You can also do things with it that can not be done normally."
Harry paused, turning to face the portrait.
"You really think I'll be able to equal them."
Salazar nodded.
"When the time comes, you will have to equal them, at least if you want to be left alone." said Salazar, "I do not know much about Dumbledore, but I do know many things about Riddle, such as what is keeping him alive. When you are prepared, I will help you in your fight to gain freedom."
"I'm not sure that's what I'm fighting for." muttered Harry, "Freedom, I mean."
He continued upon seeing the confused look on Salazar's face.
"When you asked me why I came to the chamber, and what I wanted, I said I wanted to be free, to be left alone - do you remember? But if that's really what I wanted, where's my king on the chess board?" said Harry, pointing at the board in question.
"You said that when I finally discovered whatever I wanted most, whatever I desired more than anything else, a king piece would be formed. It would symbolize what I was fighting for, the most important piece on the board. But if you check the board, - "
" - your king is not there." finished Salazar, seemingly understanding what Harry was saying, "You can not be fighting to be free, it can not be what matters most to you. If it was, you would have earned your king piece."
The portrait and person stood silently for a few minutes, both of their eyes glued to the board.
"When I was in my first year, I found a Mirror, called the Mirror of Erised." said Harry.
"'I show not your face but your heart's desire.'" said Salazar quietly.
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"It was made by Morgana with the aid of her wandless magic." Salazar informed him, "She had some help from Rowena as well. She would have been very pleased that you found it. But I digress, what did you see?"
"My parents." muttered Harry.
The study was filled with silence once more, before Salazar spoke.
"They are not your king," said Salazar quietly, "They might matter a great deal to you, but they are not what you will be fighting for. They left the battlefield long ago."
Harry nodded. He had expected that, they could not possibly be what mattered most to him in the end. They were important, but they were gone to a place where he would never see them again.
"Your king piece lies within what you saw in the mirror," Salazar told him, "You must understand why you saw your parents, and then apply that logic to find your answer."
"I'll worry about that later." said Harry, "Right now, I have a dragon to fight."
Harry made his way down to the Champions Tent, which was adjacent to the arena. The arena was huge; easily several times bigger than a Quidditch field, and filled to the brim with spectators. Harry could even see the Recorder Glass and Orbs, which were already floating above the arena. The task was set to begin in a few minutes.
"Ah, Harry!" said Bagman cheerfully when he entered the tent. The other three champions were already in the tent. Cedric appeared as pale as a ghost, but the other two seemed fine. In fact, Harry recognized both of them were using basic forms of Occlumency to maintain the illusion of calmness. Neither seemed to have realised it, however - it seemed like the Occlumency they were employing was something they had done subconsciously.
Is it possible to use Occlumency without realising it?
Harry shook his head. It was something he would have to ask Salazar once they began his Occlumency training. For now, he had other things to worry about.
"Gather around, gather around!" said Bagman excitedly, holding out a large purple bag, "Simply stick your hand into the bag. What you draw out is a smaller model of what you are about to face."
"Your task is to retrieve the golden egg." said Crouch from the side of the tent.
"Ladies first!" said Bagman eagerly, slightly drooling in the direction of Fleur.
A pale Fleur slowly made her way up to the bag, before pulling out a small green dragon model. She seemingly recovered her wits upon seeing the dragon she would be facing. Harry certainly understood why; he was beginning to fear that he might face the giant dark-skinned dragon.
"Diggory, your turn." said Bagman, still looking in Fleur's direction.
Cedric gently pulled out the silvery blue dragon Harry had seen earlier.
"Krum."
Krum made his way over to Bagman, putting his hand into the bag. Now Harry was beginning to grow fearful. It would be much harder to go against a dragon that was about thirty feet larger than all the others.
There's still a chance Krum will get it.
When Krum withdrew his hand, he held a tiny red and gold dragon.
Bloody bastard.
Harry reached his hand into the bag, not waiting for anyone to tell him to do so. He felt something bite the tip of his finger. Swearing quietly under his breath, Harry pulled out his model. It was a miniature version of the demonic dragon he had seen in the forest - the Hungarian Horntail.
"Those are the dragons you will be facing! Miss Delacour against the Welsh Green, Mr. Diggory against the Swedish Short-Snout, Mr. Krum against the Chinese Fireball, and Mr. Potter against the Hungarian Horntail." announced Mr. Crouch, "If you inspect the tag around each dragon's neck, you will see the order in which you will be going."
Harry forcefully held the miniature dragon still. Around its neck was a piece of parchment with the number four on it.
"As you know, this will be broadcast, live." Mr. Crouch continued, "Simply do your best, and you will be fine. When you hear the sound of the cannon, the first person may leave to begin."
Bagman and Crouch made their way out of the tent and into the stands. A moment later, all four champions could hear Bagman beginning the tournament, and introducing himself. It appeared as though Bagman would be the commentator for the event, just as he had been for the Quidditch World Cup.
The four champions moved away, each inspecting their model dragons. Harry sat beside Fleur, who was currently checking the underbelly of the dragon. Harry didn't waste his time doing such a thing - he knew full well that the belly of the Hungarian Horntail was covered in armor.
Bam.
Cedric fearfully got up from his corner of the tent, waved at the others, and made his way into the arena.
It was a few minutes before the remaining champions noticed the smell of smoke wafting through the tent, seemingly originating from the arena.
"Are you prepared?" asked Fleur Delacour quietly, her voice slightly less cold than usual.
"As prepared as I can be, I suppose."
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sorry you got entered into the tournament."
Harry chuckled quietly.
"I don't see how that relates to the Hungarian Horntail, but I suppose it does make me feel a bit better. Knowing that someone believes me."
"Do you know why nobody seems to believe you?"
Harry shrugged.
"They're sheep. They believe me when it's convenient, and don't when it's better for them. Besides, none of them really know me. They just think they do."
Fleur was relieved to see that he was not acting as distant as he often did.
"I understand, to some extent." said Fleur.
"I know." responded Harry, "I can't say I'm surprised. They look through you, right?"
Fleur twitched uncomfortably. She was not particularly interested in opening up to anyone, much less one of her competitors. But he seemed to be doing it for her, and so she decided to continue.
"Yes, they do."
"It's the same for me. People spread lots of stupid rumours."
Bam.
Fleur slowly stood up, cleaning herself off. She was second in order, and would now have to face her dragon.
"Good luck." said Harry. He had reverted to the distant tone he often used.
Fleur nodded towards him before leaving the tent.
Harry and Krum sat quietly in the tent for quite some time. Harry could even hear the roaring of the crowd, as well as Bagman's commentating, although he could not make out what Bagman was saying.
Eventually, Harry heard the sound of a cannon blast for the third time. Krum stood up from his corner, nodded at Harry, and departed. He was all alone now.
Harry turned to the model of the Hungarian Horntail. It was crawling around the floor, spitting small blasts of fire from its mouth. Harry considered the best way to complete his task. Salazar had made him practice the chaining spell nonverbally, stating that he did not want to risk someone learning the spell. As for his water shield, he was free to speak the incantation; it would be hard not to, considering how draining the chaining spell was.
The only problem with his water shielding idea was how difficult it would be to conjure, specifically after the chaining spell he would have to use. Harry doubted he would be capable of using it - the Hungarian Horntail was far to big, it would likely prove far too difficult.
I'm starting to realize how much of a Gryffindor idea this is.
Salazar had told him that earlier, but Harry had not cared much. Like Salazar had said, this was his debut. He would make sure he lived up to his name while attracting as little suspicion, concern, and fear as possible. Normally those things did not go hand in hand, but Harry would have to work around that.
Harry had recently been practicing his wandless magic in preparation for the task. After learning that the easiest form of wandless magic was elemental manipulation, Harry got to work on his water control. After a lot of hard work, he could now use and control water as well as he could electricity. Not that he truly believed himself capable of doing so after the chaining spell, but it was still something.
Bam.
Harry stood up from his seat on the floor, leaving the model dragon beside him. He walked through the opening of the tent, following the path to the arena. He eventually reached the end of the path, now standing at one side of the dragon's enclosure.
Harry could not hear a word of what the crowd was saying, likely due to a bit of rune work on the inclosure. He could, however, see a giant white orb floating a dozen feet to the side of him. It was blatantly obvious that it was recording his every move.
He ignored the obscene hand gestures he saw from many of the students in the audience, instead making his way past a few boulders. Harry would have to get quite close to the dragon if he wanted to restrain it. He would have to make this quick - anything longer would result in his death, something he was not too eager to experience.
On the other side of the enclosure, the Hungarian Horntail stood over her eggs. She was just as ginormous as he remembered, perhaps eighty feet long. Midnight black scales protruded from her back, pointing haphazardly in all directions. Harry spotted several chains around her feet, but they were long and loose; they would not even remotely render her immobile. Her golden eyes seemed to glow with power and hate.
And she just so happens to be looking directly at me.
Harry was very interested in discovering which witch or wizard thought it would be a good idea to have him fight against a nesting dragon.
Harry spotted the golden egg in the dragon's nest. It was placed directly in between the dragons four other eggs, which all seemed to be real. Harry found it slightly disturbing that witches and wizards were willing to put unborn babies at risk, regardless of them being a different species.
He slowly made his way towards the dragon, waiting for her to make the first move. When he was within thirty feet of her, a torrent of red and golden flames issued from her mouth. Harry instantly bolted out of the flame's path; he could not afford to form his water shield until he had created his chains, as he would be nearly out of magical energy upon casting the latter.
Unfortunately, he would have to get rather close to the dragon in order to form his chains. He could not afford to waste any of his magic until the dragon was immobile, which meant no using any disillusionment charms.
Harry waited until the dragon stopped unleashing its flames before sprint towards it. He most likely looked incredibly stupid at the moment; it was certainly how he felt. When he was directly under the dragon's head, he pulled his wand into his right hand.
Virtus Vinctum!
Harry roared the incantation as loudly as he could within his head, imagining chains detaining the ginormous beast. He had practiced the spell nonstop for nearly a month, but this was the first time he had done so in the presence of an actual dragon.
He felt an incredible burning sensation flowing through his body. He had used a great deal of his magical power to perform the spell. Harry could clearly feel that it was much harder to produce chains in the presence of the dragon, combined with the fact that the dragon was bigger than he had anticipated.
Harry looked around. Dark, metallic chains were forming in the air. Each chain attached itself firmly to the dragon. The Hungarian Horntail screeched in fury, flapping its wings angrily. A moment later, the dragon's wings were stationary as well.
It worked.
Harry almost instantly doubled over in pain. He could barely even feel his magic - there would be no water shielding happening anytime soon, that was for certain. Due to the massive size of the dragon, the chains had taken much more magic than he had anticipated. He would have to get out of here as quickly as possible.
As he reached the nest, Harry gently picked up the golden egg. It was a bit heavier than he expected. Harry made sure to be particularly cautious around the other eggs, not wanting to accidentally damage them.
Once he had gotten his egg, Harry slowly made his way from under the dragon. He turned back, keeping his eyes on the beast. There was absolutely no way he was risking getting burnt to ashes just for not being cautious.
The Hungarian Horntail was gazing at him with malice and sadness. Its legs, as well as its wings and tail were all firmly held by chains. In fact, even its mouth was covered by the chains, not allowing it to open to even the slightest degree.
The creature was completely immobile.
Harry felt a strong amount of sympathy for the dragon. In her eyes, a bad wizard had come to her home, and killed one of her precious offspring.
It was a story Harry could relate to.
He no longer wanted to look at the Hungarian Horntail. Harry turned around, changing the way he held the golden egg within his arms. He slowly made his way back towards the exit, trying not to faint from exhaustion.
Just as he neared the exit, Harry's aching body leaned off to left. A sudden burning sensation flooded through his body - he had accidentally cut his left palm open. Ignoring the pain, Harry continued to walk towards the exit. He cast a charming smile at the floating orb that was tailing him. While he didn't particularly care what most people thought about him, Salazar informed him that first impressions were always important.
At this moment, he was the queen at the center of the board. He had a vast number of potential moves to make, but was incredibly endangered as well. He had to get through this without a single fault, or risk facing the potential consequences.
Harry was fortunately conscious enough to know when he had passed the arena barrier. He could once again hear the sounds of the outside world. The birds were chirping, the crowd was roaring, and Bagman was shouting with delight.
" - and would you look at that! Our youngest champion is the fastest to get his egg! Seems to have used a rare spell he discovered, maybe in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library? Hogwarts is known to house the largest collection of magical texts in nearly all of the world! Bloody brilliant!"
I'm starting to think Salazar was right about the stupidity of the Wizarding World.
Although perhaps he had a point. Harry had never truly looked through the Restricted Section of the library; there was a good chance that something of use could be found in there. After all, Hermione had managed to find the recipe for the Polyjuice Potion in there during their second year. If that of all things could be found, there was likely to be more.
Harry's eyes searched for Dumbledore. The headmaster's reaction to his performance was the only reaction of actual value to him, seeing as it could potentially put him in danger.
The old man sat in the judge's box, observing the chains with fascination and interest. He did not, thankful, appear hostile or angry, simply curious.
Harry turned around, continuing on the path back to the champions' tent. He had been informed earlier that he would have to be checked over by Madam Pomfrey. Harry was not particularly interested in ignoring the instructions pertaining to the Mediwitch. He knew from personal experience how serious Madam Pomfrey was with her patients.
Sure enough, Madam Pomfrey stood at the entrance of the tent. Diggory lay on one of the hospital beds, the entire left side of his body seemingly covered in burns. Krum was covered in bruises. Fleur Delacour appeared completely fine.
"How did it go?" asked Fleur, looking him over.
"Pretty well. Just got a small cut." answered Harry, holding out his left hand. Madam Pomfrey immediately rushed towards him.
"First it's a basilisk, and when that's gone, dementors. And when those demons are gone, we get dragons! I don't even want to know what's next!" muttered Madam Pomfrey angrily, quiet enough that only Harry could hear her.
Harry forced himself not to laugh. Instead, he turned back to the other champions. The two males were both looking away from Fleur, trying not to get pulled in by her passive allure. Harry, thankfully, did not have to worry about that - he would prefer not to make a fool out of himself at the moment. He could practically hear Salazar's yells of disappointment in his ear.
"Do you all know how much you got?" asked Harry.
"Thirty-seven." groaned Cedric from his bed.
"Forty-one." said Krum.
"Forty-six." said Fleur cooly.
"And what did you do?" asked Harry curiously.
"I tried distracting it with a dog, Krum just blinded his dragon, and Delacour used some spell or something to put it to sleep. I got burned by the bloody thing. Krum got flung across the arena or something. Fleur didn't get hurt. What about you?"
"I created chains to bound the dragon." answered Harry, "I got my scratch because I accidentally cut myself on one of the rocks on the way to the exit."
"How did you restrain a dragon with chains?" asked Fleur suspiciously.
"Magic." said Harry, trying his hardest not to sway from exhaustion.
Before Fleur could respond, Madam Pomfrey had finished mending his cut and looking him over.
"You are free to go check you scoring, Mr. Potter." she informed him, "It will begin in a few moments."
Harry nodded before making his way out of the tent and towards the path. When he reached the point where the path met the arena, he stopped. The arena was now bare; the dragon handlers must have removed the Hungarian Horntail. He hoped she wasn't too upset.
"The judges have reached their decisions!" roared Bagman from somewhere just above the judges' seats.
Harry looked back at the judges. Mr. Crouch put his wand in the air, a ribbon shooting from it's tip in the form of a number.
Ten.
Excellent. While Harry had initially been focussing on surviving, Salazar had convinced him to actually try. Harry would give this tournament his all, proving that he was much more than just a fairy tale for children to hear before bed.
To be fair, I did cut myself. But that was after I had dealt with the dragon.
Bagman shoved his wand happily into the air.
Another ten.
Moments later, Dumbledore copied their actions. He smiled happily, his eyes twinkling.
Ten. He must have really liked my spell.
Personally, Harry thought it was a bit more than he deserved - not that he would be complaining, of course.
Madame Maxime was next.
Nine.
Harry couldn't exactly complain; he had cut himself on his way out, regardless of how small the injury was.
The only remaining judge was Karkaroff. He paused for a moment, before he too put his wand in the air.
Seven.
Harry rolled his eyes. It was blatantly obvious that Karkaroff was being biased but he didn't really care at the moment. He was safe, he had shown the world that he was more than just a fairy tale, and he had done so in a way that wouldn't make him any more powerful enemies. In his eyes, Karkaroff's biased actions made up for the slightly unfair judging of the others.
Harry made his way back to the champions' tent as Bagman gave a finishing speech to the audience and the Recording Glass. When he had re-entered, he found all three of the other champions waiting for him.
"Forty-six." said Harry, his voice cold. Fleur's eyes narrowed as they had done just before he left the tent earlier.
"Merlin's beard." moaned Cedric, "I don't know whether to be impressed or ashamed."
"Choose either one, I don't particularly care." said Harry cooly, looking out through one of the tent flaps.
"You are all free to go, the first task is officially over." Madam Pomfrey, "Mr. Diggory and Mr. Krum, I would prefer if you two were to remain behind. It isn't smart to take any risks, especially when it comes to magical injuries."
Harry and Fleur exited the tent, leaving the two other champions to suffer Madam Pomfrey's ministrations.
"So, how did you bound the dragon?" Fleur asked as the two of them slowly walked away from the tent.
"That would be telling, wouldn't it?" Harry replied back in a charming voice, causing him to freeze for a quick moment.
It wasn't because he was being charming, or anything similar. Whenever he talked these days, he always spoke in either a charming or cold voice. He only ever spoke happily to Salazar and Hedwig. He had also spoken that way to Tonks and Hestia when they had been stationed at the school.
And Fleur, I suppose. Though to be fair, it isn't like I've exactly talked to anyone else.
"You do know that I can simply watch a memory of the task using a pensieve, right?" asked Fleur.
"Which is why I used a nonverbal spell." said Harry, causing Fleur to huff in annoyance, "And besides, it was just a single spell, what's so important about it?"
"Because unlike the rest of the wizarding world, Potter, I am not a complete idiot. If you know one powerful spell, there is a good chance you know more."
"Just call me Harry." he replied absent-mindedly, ignoring the rest of the question. Fleur narrowed her eyes at that, but eventually nodded.
"Then I suppose you can call me Fleur." she said.
The two of them walked in silence for a few minutes, neither of them realizing that they were making their way over to the Beauxbatons carriage.
"You know, I will eventually find out however you did that." Fleur told him, her cold voice laced with pride.
"Still in shock that the little boy tied you for first?" said Harry, his voice now cold.
"I'm sorry about that." muttered Fleur quietly.
She truly was. She had initially been so put off that the boy had not wanted to enter the competition, that she had quickly decided he was a little boy who would be useless in the tournament. It was quite evident now that this was not the case.
"It's okay, I guess." said Harry, "If I were in your position, I probably would have been thinking similarly."
Fleur smiled slightly at that.
The two of them stopped as they reached the Beauxbatons Carriage.
"It was nice talking to you." said Harry, "I'll see you around, I suppose."
Fleur paused for a moment, before nodding. Truthfully, she doubted he would. Harry Potter was well known through Hogwarts for being capable of seemingly vanishing at will. Regardless, she nodded her head respectfully, even allowing for the ghost of a smile to take its place upon her face.
Her smile weakened, however, when she saw the forms of several people making their way towards the Beauxbatons Carriage. It was the redhead boy and the bushy haired brunette, Harry's two friends that had abandoned him. They were both quickly running towards Harry, currently several dozen metres away. Behind them were a few other students, all of whom were dressed in Gryffindor clothing.
Fleur hoped that Harry would not forgive them. She may not know him well, but she could very easily tell that he did not make a good choice in friends. They had betrayed him and his trust; something like that should be a crime if it was done towards someone you loved. Harry turned around, trying to find what had grabbed Fleur's attention.
"I should probably go inside, for the sake of the redhead." said Fleur cooly.
The boy had been one of the many boys at Hogwarts that had not stopped drooling the moment he had laid eyes on her. For most Veela, that only ever occurred when they were actively using their allure.
Unfortunately for Fleur, she was not like most; her passive allure was enough to produce such results. She had never tried using her allure to its fullest extent, not interested in causing any trouble for herself. Fleur had to spend quite a bit of time learning to control her passive allure. It took quite a bit of effort and energy, but she could do it.
Fleur quickly turned back to Harry, who was still watching the Gryffindors make their way through the grounds.
"I do not think it wise to forgive them." Fleur muttered coldly, causing Harry's eyes to widen in surprise, "They have betrayed you, what is to say it will not happen again?"
Fleur wasn't entirely sure he would listen to her. She was, after all, one of his opponents, and she had been fairly rude to him. These had been his best friends for many years, at least as far as Fleur knew. But it did not change her way of thinking; if you loved someone, nothing should separate you. It was clear that this did not apply to the Gryffindors running towards the youngest champion.
After sending him another quick nod, Fleur made her way into the Beauxbatons Carriage. She went back to her room, before falling onto her bed and letting out a sigh. She had gotten through the first task, and even tied for first. Wizarding Communities from all over the world now knew her name, and had seen what she was capable of.
Still, Fleur was not feeling overly peaceful, as something new had taken up the forefront of her mind.
She hoped, for his sake, that Harry Potter would listen to her advice.
Harry stood just outside the Beauxbatons Carriage, watching as Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, and the rest of the fourth year Gryffindors came closer towards him. He was certain that they would be asking for forgiveness, as they had no other reason to come to him. He already decided how he would be handling the situation, and it was in a way that both Salazar and apparently Fleur would approve of.
Neither of his two best friends had told him about the dragons, which Harry was beginning to suspect they knew about. After all, Hagrid had told him that he asked Ron to talk to him, telling him to visit Hagrid after dark. When that had finally happened (no thanks to Ronald), Harry had learnt what he would be facing in the task.
Even if Harry was wrong about that, Ron would have still known about the dragons in a different way. He had recognized Charlie as one of the dragon handlers in the Forbidden Forest - he had been the man talking to Hagrid. Harry also knew that Charlie often sent letters to Ron, complete with detailed descriptions of whatever he was up to at the moment.
But if Harry were to ignore the entire dragon incident, there would still be issues. Both of his friends had jealousy issues: Ron of his wealth and fame, and Hermione of his improvement in classes. Neither of them had made sense to Harry.
He had never had access to his wealth, and had lived most of his life thinking he was a nobody. Even now, the only thing he had ever used his money for was school supplies, as well as a few ingredients for the rituals he and Hedwig had taken. If Harry was being honest, he doubted he would ever use so much as a percent of his wealth. He was more than content with settling down in a small cottage in a remote village, or something similar. That was how the Weasleys lived, that was how his parents had lived - he was more than willing to do the same.
As for his improvement in school, Harry had only been improving in practical work; his written work had remained as worthless as ever (something Snape had often reminded him of). He hadn't exactly attended any classes in quite a while, however, so there might be a chance that he had improved his writing. For some odd reason, he highly doubted it.
Harry had always been better than Hermione when it came to using magic. The only reason she might have thought otherwise is because she practiced each spell hundreds of times. Harry, on the other hand, didn't practice at all. This had led to Hermione seemingly being better at using magic than Harry was.
Regardless, Harry could no longer handle being around them. Ron had been causing him to act lazy, a luxury Harry could not afford if he wanted to increase in power and skill. As for Hermione, Harry had a feeling that he would do better without her. She cared about him a great deal - Harry was not blind enough to not notice it - but she certainly had a funny way of showing it.
Harry had simply decided he no longer wanted to spend his time around them. They were no longer people he could trust with his life, no longer people he could count on. They had left him when he needed them most. Harry would have to make new friends, people whom he knew would never waver as Ron and Hermione had.
Perhaps, given time, the two of them would improve. Harry did not truly expect them to resolve their flaws, such a thing was irrational. He himself had flaws, flaws which he would be unlikely to resolve. They would never be as close as they had once been, Harry knew that. But all of that was something that would occur in the distant future, both a long and short time from now.
As for the others, Harry would do the same. None of them had been there when he needed them. He would not be forgiving them simply because they finally learnt how to use their brains and think logically. Besides, he barely knew most of them.
He would, however, accept an apology from the three chasers. They were the only ones who did not ostracize him with the others, even if they didn't necessarily talk to him. They should have been the worst, considering that Angelina and Alicia had been trying to enter. Yet they still made a point to smile at him the few times they had spotted him roaming the halls, something he appreciated. Regardless, he would not be seeking them out; if they wanted to talk to him, they would have to find him.
The same could be said for Neville Longbottom. Harry had been able to tell that the timid Gryffindor had believed him the entire time, and had merely remained quiet due to his shy and nervous nature. As with the chasers, Neville would have to seek Harry out himself.
"Harry, you did brilliantly!" said Hermione as the many Gryffindor students finally reached him.
Most of the fourth years bent over slightly, panting from exhaustion.
"Listen, mate." said Ron seriously, "We believe you. We don't think you put your name in the goblet."
There was a moment of silence between the trio, which was eventually broken by Harry.
"Isn't that what I've been saying for weeks?" he asked coldly.
The Gryffindors all flinched as though they had been struck.
"Yeah, but we were being stubborn and all that. We weren't thinking right, even though we should have been. What we're trying to say is, we're sorry."
Harry shook his head at Dean, who had just spoken.
"When I needed you most, you weren't there." noted Harry, "Now that I'm doing better, you've suddenly come back."
"Harry, please!" whispered Hermione, a lone tear falling from her cheek.
But Harry had already walked away, heading back to the Chamber of Secrets. Best to keep it short and sweet (if sweet was even an appropriate description).
Maybe Salazar and I can throw an afterparty.