Butterfly 45 - LM/HP
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Hey all. Again, I know it’s been a long, long time, but expect more time lapses until the end of March at least. See the bottom of my FFNet profile, or the last non-fiction post at LJ for more info (though I doubt anyone cares about my issues).
Please enjoy and review.
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Words: 2,604
Chapter 45
January 16th 1995. Hogsmeade.
Hogsmeade was always busier than usual when the Hogwarts students were set free from the castle. But that was to be expected, and the owners of the shops and pubs of Hogsmeade were appreciative for the extra business, of course they were, but the teachers who ran to the Hogs Head or the Three Broomsticks to escape the students weren’t exactly appreciative of students turning up around them. Hagrid, for example, was perfectly content (no, that wasn’t right; he was desolate, horrified, embarrassed and angry) but he was fine right where he was, sitting in a booth in the corner of the Three Broomsticks crying over his pitcher of Butterbeer. He didn’t appreciate the handful of students who stood around his table gaping at him, glancing worriedly at the other students and then back at him.
Hagrid liked him, Harry knew. Hagrid had been friends with his parents, and if there was anyone’s pity Hagrid would appreciate it was his, but Harry didn’t really fancy sitting around crying into Butterbeer, or any beverage really. Plus, his father was waiting for him. With a nod at the Gameskeeper, who didn’t look up in time to catch it, Harry walked to the other side of the pub and slid into a booth opposite Tennyson Alfred.
“Why’s he so upset?” Harry asked, nodding back at the elder Wizard’s direction.
“Oh, there was a rather nasty article in the Prophet outing his mother as a giantess. As if anyone could believe he was fully human.” Evan muttered, taking a sip of his coffee after the first sentence.
Harry could understand that. The man was certainly large enough to be a giant’s offspring, still runt-ish when compared to a real giant of course, but his father was a human. Lots of people had magical creature blood though, so Harry didn’t really see what all the fuss was about, unless the article was particularly scornful, in which case. “Did Rita Skeeter write it?” He asked, sighing loudly when Evan nodded. “She’s a cow.”
“Language.” The Death Eater chided, narrowing his eyes lightly until Harry apologized softly.
A waitress approached the table shortly after, taking both of their orders and jumping slightly when Hagrid let out a particularly loud cry, blowing his nose into his handkerchief. Harry glanced over his shoulder at the giant and frowned, “I feel sort of sorry for him,” he said after the waitress had left. “But at least it’s not me this time. Skeeter hates me for some reason.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She just knows you make for good sales, Caen.”
“I suppose.”
The food came shortly after, and they made general small talk as they ate. Evan asked after Harry’s classes, his friends, the Yule Ball. Harry asked after Lucius, their Lord, and Evan’s work. They talked about their general health, and Harry asked for tips on the third and second task.
“He hasn’t told me anything about the tasks, child. And if He had, why would I tell you when I’ve always been a firm believer in you working things out for yourself? You learn better that way.”
“I know, I know,” Harry sighed, rolling his eyes as he spoke. “But I have this silly egg and all it does is screech at me, and it’s supposed to give me a clue so I can prepare for the next task! At this rate I’m just going to go deaf.”
Evan glanced down at Harry’s lap, where the pockets of his robe had overlapped. “Do you have it with you?”
“Nah, it’s in the dorm. Not like anyone will actually want to open it anyway, so it’s safe enough.”
At the table beside them, a middle aged Witch appeared to be eagerly eavesdropping on their conversation. Harry hadn’t noticed, but Evan had, and he grinned widely, his eyes still fixed on Harry’s pockets and thus his crotch. “How often do you take it out?” He asked his voice low and husky.
Harry frowned at him, confused by the tone of his voice. Evan was playing a game of some sort, but Harry hadn’t quite caught on yet. He felt his eyebrows creasing together as he answered, “not often, why? It’s just so… frustrating. I prefer to just ignore it really.”
“Ah, I see.” Evan was still grinning, and the woman at the table beside them was leaning over her tea cup to better hear them. It was, after all, the famous Harry Potter sitting right beside her. “Well, then, there’s only one thing I can suggest.”
“What’s that?” Harry was still confused, but he had by now noticed the elder woman listening in on them. Whatever Evan said next would be for her benefit and not for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, he knew, but he wasn’t able to guess what Evan might imply regardless.
“I suggest taking it out and getting it… wet.”1 Evan told him, looking quite serious. He folded his hands under his chin and took great pleasure in the look of horror that crossed the woman’s face, though his own expression didn’t change. She turned fully away from them, disgusted at their topic of conversation, and Harry wondered how talking about the golden egg could be taken in so bad a context. And then it dawned on him.
“EVAN!” He hissed, narrowing his eyes at his father even as the occupants at two other tables turned to see what he was shouting about. “That’s disgusting!”
“What?” The Death Eater asked innocently, “I was only trying to help, Harry. And it is a known fact that Mermish is unrecognizable out of water, so I don’t know why you look so horrified. Really!”
XXX
January 21st 1995. Hogwarts.
Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff. He was a nice enough guy, handsome, with lots of friends, and apparently he was the real Hogwarts Champion. But he was still taking the time to explain to Harry how to make the golden egg work. Or, he would have been, if he could get the boy alone.
His friends had followed him out to the grounds, where Cedric had originally escaped to with Harry so they could be alone and no one could accuse him of cheating. But now they were surrounded by five other boys, a mix of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and Harry glanced between each of the elder boys amusedly.
He knew what Cedric was doing, and he appreciated the effort enough that he didn’t want to break it to the Hufflepuff that he already knew it had something to do with mermaids and that he would only understand the clue if the egg was opened under water. The problem of course was that Harry didn’t have access to a large body of water. There was the prefect’s bathroom, but he didn’t know where that was, and the showers in the Ravenclaw dorm didn’t allow for flooding and Hermione had assured him that Gryffindor was the same, and he knew Slytherin was too, so he couldn’t even keep the shower running long enough to build up enough water to crouch under. He could hardly jump into the black lake randomly, especially with the way Viktor Krum went jogging passed it twice daily. He didn’t want to help the other champions, even if they wanted to help him.
That still left him without a place to open the egg. He had been heading to Hagrid’s when Cedric grabbed him. The egg was in his bag, and Harry had been hoping that Hagrid would have had a pool or something to water the animals from, and that it might have been deep enough to stick his head in for a while. But maybe Cedric had a better idea?
“I’m sorry!” The Hufflepuff suddenly said, as one of his friends grabbed his right arm and another the left one. “I’m really sorry, Harry.” Then they dragged him back towards the castle.
With a roll of his eyes, Harry turned and began down the sharp incline that would lead him passed the lake and to Hagrid’s hut. He didn’t notice Alastor Moody watching him from behind one of the pillars in the walkway, nor did he notice the dark looks the ex-Auror was throwing Diggory’s friends. Harry was just about resigned to the idea of sticking his head in a pig’s trough or the Wizarding version of such if one existed, when a tripping hex caught him by the left ankle and he tumbled face first into the shallows of the black lake. A second spell followed, leaving Barty’s wand mere seconds after the first, but this one wasn’t aimed at Harry. It was for something in the lake, and as Harry scrambled to his feet with a dirty look for anyone who happened to be watching, one tentacle lifted out of the water and wrapped around Harry’s waist.
He managed to cry out once, before the giant squid pulled him out into the lake and under water. He fumbled for his wand, pointing it unnecessarily at the creature that let go the moment Harry’s head was submerged. He glanced around, holding his breath and trying not to panic. But nothing else attacked him, and as if by divine intervention, the golden egg floated free of his bag and opened up right in front of him.
He listened, occasionally pulling himself above the surface of the water to take a breath before the giant squid would pull him back under again. Once he had heard the clue through three time, the squid grabbed him again and began pulling him back to the shallows were it left him alone and soaking, just as Moody reached down to drag him out by the collar of his ruined robes.
“Professor?” Harry sputtered, rubbing water out of his eyes.
“You alright, Potter? Nasty slid you had there.”
The egg was still clutched in Harry’s hands, and Moody’s eyes were fixed firmly on it. There was something green and slimy sticking out of the edge of Moody’s pocket, and Harry glanced down at it, recognizing it after a moment as something he had learnt about in one of this ‘extra’ Defence classes. Why would Moody need gillyweed? And where could Harry get some?
XXX
January 30th 1995.
--Dear Professor Snape,
I know you don’t like me, in fact I’d safely say you hated me with every fibre of your being. But Lucius Malfoy is your friends. I’d hazard a guess and say he is one of your only real friends, and you would do an awful lot more than you’d admit to keep him in good spirits, like anyone would do for real friends, for family, right? Well, if I die in this Tournament, Lucius would be very upset. Distraught. Inconsolable, etc. You get the idea. The point being that, in this instance, helping me helps secure your friends happiness since we are going to get married eventually and I plan to make him as happy as I could possible manage.
You’re probably wondering what I want at this point, that is, if you haven’t already burned this letter. But, well, I was wondering if you had any gillyweed and if I could get some off of you? I’d ask Professor Moody, but well, after his stunt last week he’s kind of freaking me out a little.
If you don’t have any, that’s fine. But if you do and you don’t give me some and I drown and die, I hope you know Lucius will be very upset with you. And I’ll haunt you, just so you know.
Regards, Harry Potter-Black.--
Harry blew over the parchment for a few minutes, before deeming it dry enough to roll up. He handed it to Hedwig, who was perched patiently on the windowsill of his dorm room. Luna was sprawled across his bed, reading one of his fourth year textbooks upside down, but she looked up at him once Hedwig had taken flight.
“I hope he doesn’t burn it.”
“I hope he doesn’t poison it.” Harry said in response to Luna’s soft exclamation.
Luna smiled at him, a half twist of her lips that made it look less sincere than she intended. “Well, you can only wait and see, I guess, Harry. But, if you die at least the Humdingers can keep me company. Though,” she said after a small pause during which Harry stared incredulously at her, “I would miss you, I think. It’s been nice having a friend.”
“It is nice having you as a friend.”
“Will we still be friends when the Dark Lord comes back and starts making you kill people like me?” She asked, looking completely serious.
“People like you?” Harry asked, because he wasn’t sure what else he could say.
“On the light side. Father was very anti-Dark Lord during the first war.”
“This war will be different,” Harry told her, completely serious. “There’ll be no needless murders, no genocide; he’ll be the way he was before the madness, before the Horcruxes, before it all went wrong. I promise.” Harry took her hands in his and squeezed them lightly. “No one is going to hurt you.”
“Hmm,” she said softly, smiling up at him widely. “Ok.” Then she frowned, “Horcruxes, that’s a strange word. Does it mean something nice?”
Harry snorted in amusement. “Not really, but I’m banking on me being one to convince the Dark Lord to do things right this time. My dad says He likes me, so maybe he’ll listen to me? On some things at least?”
“Oh. If He likes you, I suppose he might. After all, you wouldn’t marry someone who was less than equal to you, and if you’re equal your opinion counts as much as his, right?”
“Marriage?” Harry chuckled, looking as confused as he felt. “This is Voldemort we’re talking about, not Lucius, you know.”
“My mistake,” Luna whispered, though she didn’t look very mistaken. Instead, she grinned widely at him, before turning back to her upside down textbook and refusing to speak for the rest of the night. At least, until Professor Snape wrote back.
--Potter,
As much as it loathes me to do you any favours, Lucius wrote to me only moments ago, requesting my services as a courting gift to you. I will be teaching you how to duel. Properly. Not that disgusting farce of an example you were privileged with in your second year. Do well, and I won’t have to explain to Lucius how he wishes to bind himself with a useless waste of oxygen. Do exceptionally, and I’ll give you some gillyweed.
I will contact you once my schedule is confirmed. Do not expect me any time soon. You’re lucky I agreed at all.--
He didn’t sign it, but Harry knew just from the acerbic tone of the letter who it was from. Not to mention, it was written in response to his own letter to the man. Harry handed it to Luna, who read it quickly and then folded it up into the shape of a swan before placing it on Harry’s bedside locker.
“That sounds fun,” she said, still reading the book.
Harry sighed, “Yeah, I’m so lucky. Thanks Lucius.”
“Yes, maybe you should write him and thank him?” Luna suggested, “He obviously had to do a lot of bullying or begging to get Professor Snape to agree to tutor you.”
“Well,” Harry said, grabbing a clean sheet of parchment out of his bag, “at least I won’t be the only one suffering during these lessons. Just looking at me might be enough to give the man heart failure.”
XXX
1 - Anyone else LOL at that scene in Being Human?? Between George and the werewolf who turned him, at the dinner? If you didn’t get it, its season 1 episode 2 I think.
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Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought and I’ll try update around Christmas, since work is closed and I’m off for Boxing/Stephen’s Day, yay.
EH WTF.... LJ HAS COMPLETELY CHANGED SINCE I WAS GONE! :O
Words: 5,431
Chapter 46
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