Chapter 2

Daphne Greengrass stood at the pathway that led to the exit of the castle proper, staring ahead critically. The person she was interested in right now was in her line of sight.

The Halloween night had seen the Goblet of Fire choose the champions for the Triwizard Tournament. It had been a fairly dour event even if delegations from two different wizarding schools had arrived.

The ceremony had been progressing as expected, with three champions having been selected, one for each participating school. However, right after Diggory had been chosen for Hogwarts, the goblet lit up once again, more ferociously than ever before, and spat out another piece of parchment.

What followed was nothing short of pandemonium. The young man who Daphne had taken one look at and knew that he had been thrust into this tournament against his choice had been subjected to very vocal opposition from almost the entire student contingent. All the while, the teachers either stared in disbelief, concern, or denial.

Harry Potter, or as the wizarding world at large called him, the Boy-who-lived.

Daphne was staring at him right now from her place near the outer wall of the castle. He was at the shore of the Black Lake, and he didn't know she was there. She could not make out his face from the back, but she believed he was standing there in frustration, and for good reason.

It had been a week since the selection and the entire school was divided on the issue. While a large portion was vexed at the fact that he had somehow tricked the goblet into selecting him as the fourth champion, another contingent of students, particularly from her house, was impressed with his successful hoodwinking of the ancient artifact. Meanwhile, Daphne was in another group entirely. She believed he had nothing to do with all of it.

Currently, she was simply standing there, staring at him, and wondering how to approach him, or even if she should. They had not spoken much to each other. The most they had ever interacted was when they had sometimes been paired in some of their classes and had to work together. The interactions had been perfectly cordial, and Daphne had come to see him as a cooperative person who was a dab hand at spellcasting. She didn't think there was another student with a better affinity for the practical aspect of magic than Harry Potter even in their senior years, let alone theirs. He usually got the spells on the first try, almost as if he had been doing it for years. Daphne had a theory that he just had firm control over his magic, which made using it easier for him.

With a determined gait, she started walking toward the Black Lake. There was no harm in at least talking to him. He had never been outright rude to her even though she was a Slytherin, and she knew perfectly well what his opinion of her house was. Malfoy and his little band of morons had never helped matters either. That gave him some brownie points in her book. The worst he could do to her was refuse to talk, and she was not so weak that it would affect her in any sense.

There was a reason the hat had pondered to place her in the House of Lions, after all.

She had been surprised at that and had asked the hat to sort her in either Ravenclaw or Slytherin. She had only one reason for that – the Gryffindors were too loud, and she preferred the quiet of those two houses. Hufflepuff was out before she had even arrived at Hogwarts, simply because no one took them seriously. They also had this reputation of being too overbearing and lacking privacy, and that was a big NO.

Harry was standing with his back to the castle under a large tree, looking toward the horizon over the Black Lake. He had been here since the afternoon when their classes ended, and for the first time in hours, he had been feeling at peace.

The rustling of dry leaves behind him made him look over, and he frowned when he saw who it was.

"Hello, Potter," Daphne spoke with a small smile as she walked over.

"Greengrass," Harry acknowledged, and Daphne could feel the tiredness in his voice. "How are you?"

"Better than you, at least," she replied, coming over to stand beside him. She joined him in looking over the Black Lake.

"I can't imagine it being very hard," he replied with a rueful chuckle. Daphne smiled as she kept looking straight ahead.

Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"What brings you here?"

"Nothing much, just saw you looking all alone this past week. Thought you could use someone to talk to," she replied, to his slight surprise.

"You want something," he stated after a few moments. It was obvious, and he should've known it.

"What makes you say that?" she asked, slightly amused. Harry was not.

"Listen, Greengrass. I know how these things work, alright? And after everything that's happened lately, I'm not feeling very patient right now. So just get to the point," he hissed, taking her by surprise.

"You should learn how to speak to a lady, Potter," she replied with a small sneer and turned away to look over the lake. He was, as expected, in a foul mood. It was understandable, but it didn't mean she would allow it though. She was the proud heiress of the House of Greengrass and there was no way he could talk to her like that.

"And you should learn not to play your silly games with someone who doesn't like them," he retorted. "If that's all you're here for, then it was nice talking to you. Even if you're a Slytherin."

Even though she could understand it, the remark stung a bit. She knew what kind of lowlives called Slytherin their house, and being lumped in with them did not feel particularly good. At least Malfoy was right about something. Potter definitely had a prejudicial bone in his body.

'But then, don't we all? After all, we all consider Gryffindors as dorks, Hufflepuffs as duffers, and Ravenclaws as bookworms. Prejudice is the unspoken truth of this world.'

"Not all of us are evil Death Eater wannabes who want to curse the muggleborns, you know?" She intoned somberly, a sigh escaping her lips.

"Could've fooled me with the general attitude of your folk, and the way the rest just follow," Harry chuckled mirthlessly, a mocking smirk on his face.

"Such insolence. It's a surprise you're the heir to such a prominent wizarding family," she scoffed.

"And you care? A bit forward, don't you think? Openly showing interest in my family? The least you could do was go on a date or two first."

For the first time in this interchange of words, Daphne looked flabbergasted. She stared at him, wide-eyed. For his part, Harry did not even deign to look at her, instead staring at the rippling surface of the Black Lake.

"It was a simple remark, Potter. No need to look too deeply into it."

"Funny," he chuckled again. "I thought hidden meanings were second nature to anything you Slytherins said… On second thought though, I guess I put too much stock into it all. After all, Malfoy is what many call the epitome of Slytherin… perhaps even the face of the house… and yet look at him. A boisterous buffoon without an ounce of tact."

Despite herself, Daphne giggled a little, and finally, Harry turned to look at her. He had never heard her giggle before. The most she used to do was a small smile. Nothing else. It was nice, in an odd sort of way.

For the first time since she had come here, he took a moment to properly look at her. Daphne Greengrass was a beautiful witch with all the superiority that purebloods boasted of when it came to looks and physique. On the cusp of womanhood, she had alluring curves that – he had to admit – rivaled Fleur's. In fact, if he had to chance a guess, he would say she was going to have an even curvier rear than Fleur when she matured fully. Fleur was all woman, and although Daphne was one as well, she had a bit of maturity remaining. He would be lying if he said he was not interested, even if nothing happened. There was never any harm in letting your eyes feast.

Her skin was ivory and shone slightly under the setting sun, giving her skin a sort of orange glow, and the way her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled made him think of the dream he had the night before. Darken the shade of eyes and turn the hair golden, and a bound Fleur became a bound Daphne.

Harry violently pushed those lecherous feelings out of his mind. Now was not the time to give in to his carnal thoughts. His manhood was already hardening and he had to force himself to think about disgusting things. As always, thoughts of Vernon and Marge did the trick.

He knew she wanted something from him. There was no way she would approach him at a time like this – someone who had been nothing but a passing name to her, as she had been to him.

"Don't think I forgot you approached me – the biggest pariah in the school. Doesn't take a genius to figure out you want something significant, even from a so-called fame-hungry egomaniac like myself," he replied. Daphne's giggles slowly subsided and she turned toward him. She stared into his emerald pools and sighed.

"Listen, Potter," she started. "I believe it when you say that you didn't put your name in. The look on your face when Dumbledore called out your name was proof enough. As for what I want? I think it's pretty straightforward, and something I believe you should have no problem with."

"I'll be the judge of that," he interrupted, making her glare at him. He stared at her, unfazed, and motioned with his hand to just get on with it.

Daphne sighed and continued, "I just want access to some privileges you have, thanks to this tournament."

"Go on," he replied, slightly intrigued. This was the first person apart from Dumbledore who had told him they believed in him. It meant something to him. Not very much though. And there was no way he was going to admit that. It would be foolish of him if he just gave in because a pretty face said a few honeyed words to him. If she wanted something from him, she better be ready to give him something in return. Quid pro quo, as the businessmen liked to say.

'At least Vernon taught me something for all the torment he put me through,' he thought with a sneer. Daphne speaking brought him out of his thoughts.

"I want access to the books you'll be taking out of the Restricted Section, and a few more that I'd be asking you to. In return, I'll agree to help you out in this tournament and become your spy in Slytherin. I hope you know Malfoy and his cronies would be acting up soon. Merlin knows that boy is obsessed with you. There's no way he's letting this opportunity go. I'll keep you informed of any developments."

Harry's first response was to laugh when the girl suggested she would help him out with the tournament. He was more than confident in his abilities to deal with anything thrown his way. After all, he was a fourth-year student in name only.

However, the second part of her proposal was intriguing. Having eyes and ears in Slytherin would indeed be beneficial. Not to mention he could easily use her to foil whatever bullshit any of those worthless assholes would surely come up with. It was not as if he was lacking in enemies from Slytherin. The entire Quidditch team loathed him, and Malfoy had his cronies as well. Bookends they might be, but it would never do to underestimate anyone.

She was not asking for too much either. Giving her a few books from the Restricted Section was nothing problematic. It wasn't as if he had to sacrifice anything more than a few moments of his time.

However, for her to propose doing so much for him just because she wanted a few books… that seemed fishy. Something else was underway… something she did not want anyone to know. But then why him? There were too many unknown variables at play here. He had no idea what her goal was, and he doubted she would just tell him outright.

"Tell me Greengrass, you could ask any student to take those books out for you. Why me?" He asked curiously, earning a sigh from the blonde.

"I'm not going to ask any other Slytherin to do anything for me. Owing favors to others in my house is not worth the hassle. I also don't want them to know what I'm up to. As for the other houses, I don't know anyone who has access to the Restricted Section."

"Up to something nefarious, are you? Aiming to be the next dark lady?"

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"I'll leave that silly business to others. Too much headache for me."

Harry chuckled, belatedly realizing it was his first since Halloween. He fell silent for a few moments, letting her think that he was pondering upon the deal she had proposed.

"I guess you've got yourself a deal then," he replied. "Make sure you find a proper place for us to meet. Not that I'd need you to practice for the tournament, but still, you're one of the best in our year. That's got to count for something. I'm sure your input could come in handy here and there."

"Gee, Potter. What a way to compliment someone," she said sarcastically. Harry merely rolled his eyes.

"Send me an owl when you've got a place. We'll start from there."

Without waiting for her reply, Harry turned around and walked away, leaving the blonde staring at his retreating figure until it vanished beyond the walls.

"Well, that went well," she muttered to herself and walked away.

-Break-

The massive castle looked serene under the moonlight, with lamps flowing through the windows and candles scattered around the Great Hall giving it a majestic feel. The students from Durmstrang, unused to such brightness, often stared around, enchanted. Even those from Beauxbatons could not help but admit that Hogwarts had an odd sort of charm to it.

The headmaster of the ancient school sat in his office with little brightness encompassing it. In fact, the natural moonlight was joined only by the simmering blue flames that floated around the room, encasing it in an ethereal glow. The old wizard stood by the desk, hands resting on the surface. He was accompanied by one other – a certain hook-nosed man with pasty-white skin and greasy black hair.

Severus Snape was livid. He had been livid ever since the godforsaken Halloween night when Potter's name had come out of the goblet. To think that the brat had the audacity to insult him in such a manner… Black had been with the boy for only a little while, and yet he had succeeded in poisoning his mind.

At least that was what Snape thought. The truth was much more profound than that. Sirius had indeed told Harry about Snape's true colors, but the emerald-eyed wizard was not one to be dependent on others for gathering information. Trial transcripts had been reported in the old editions of the Prophet, and ever since Harry had come to know that Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban, he had dug out the old papers from the archive in the Hogwarts library and read up everything that had unfolded in the aftermath of the previous war.

The trials that had taken place, who had been convicted, who had managed to escape the clutches of the law and had subsequently tried to do everything in their power to escape scrutiny and future prosecution. Harry knew it all.

The only thing Sirius had done was tell him about Snape's past, and how the man had switched sides near the end.

"You know what Harry has become, Severus. He will not apologize."

"Then I ask you to punish him, as he deserves. The brat has gone too far this time!"

"Now, Severus. I have talked to Harry and made him understand that he did not do the right thing. I want you to believe in me when I say that Harry knows that he should not have said it."

Snape was not happy, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Earlier, he could have tormented the brat in his class or assigned him a detention or two, but since he was a champion now, he could not be punished for such transgressions and he did not need to attend any classes either. The only way was expulsion or suspension – both of which were out of his hands.

The boy had been taking advantage of the perks the tournament had to offer. He had stopped attending classes, much to the disapproval of several of the Hogwarts professors. Just because he had the right to skip lessons did not mean he should. At least that was what they believed.

Harry Potter had been a model student, but ever since the beginning of the year, he had started to change. He used to keep more to himself, disappearing at odd intervals to do only Merlin knew what, and more than once the professors had brought their grievances to the headmaster. However, Dumbledore always dismissed them.

The old wizard knew what Harry was up to, and his little talk with the young man in the aftermath of the champion selection was proof enough. He was not one to curb someone's quest for knowledge and acclaim, and Harry's path was his to choose.

"You have your suspicions regarding how the boy's name came out of the goblet?" Snape chose to relinquish the previous topic, deeming it redundant. This was a pressing matter.

Dumbledore looked gravely at the surface of the floating liquid on his desk, his face reflected in the pensieve.

"I think both of us know who is behind it, Severus."

Snape nodded. There was only one suspect. Every time.

"It is not the question of who, Severus. But how…" Dumbledore whispered, pulling out a black diary with a large hole in the middle. "Harry brought this with him from the Chamber of Secrets after he slew the Basilisk. The hole you see is where he plunged the fang. The venom destroyed this diary."

Snape picked up the diary gingerly, almost as if afraid it would strike him somehow. Turning it over, he glimpsed the name inscribed at the bottom in capital gold and his eyes widened.

"This belonged to the dark lord," Snape whispered. "I imagine it was cursed?"

"Curse is a very small word to describe something like this, Severus," Dumbledore replied gravely. "This diary contained a portion of Tom's soul. This was a Horcrux."

Snape breathed sharply. He was aware of the vile creations of Herpo. The information was readily available in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. It stood to reason that the Dark Lord knew about them.

"That is how the Dark Lord survived," Snape replied faintly.

"I had my suspicions," Dumbledore acknowledged with a nod. "When I first saw Harry after the events of Halloween 1981, there was a darkness inside his scar. I attributed it to the aftereffects of the Killing Curse, and I treated it the best I could. It was not until Harry brought this diary to me that I realized what Tom had done."

Snape's eyes widened.

"You mean the boy's scar is a—"

"Not anymore," Dumbledore replied. "I believe you have noticed how the scar is only a faint line now? It turned that way after Harry's encounter with the dementors a few months ago."

"Black was not the only one who was kissed," Snape said with a little disdain in his voice. Dumbledore sighed.

"I do not believe Harry was kissed, Severus. It is possible that the dementor that attacked Harry pulled out the soul piece that had been lodged in his scar, thus freeing him from that vile curse."

"What were your plans regarding the boy when you realized he was a Horcrux, headmaster?" Snape asked gravely.

Dumbledore's silence was answer enough.

"I see," he drawled. "I cannot say I expected you to be so ruthless."

"Don't tell me you're grown to care for the boy, Severus. We both know you would be lying," Dumbledore replied. "It is true that I believed Harry would have to die for Tom to truly perish. However, it is fortunate that events unfolded the way they did. In a way, I believe his life was saved once again by someone who loved him."

"What do you mean?"

Smiling, Dumbledore walked over and took a seat, gesturing for Snape to sit as well. Once both wizards were sitting, Dumbledore continued, "Sirius must have sacrificed himself by offering his life to the dementors, and just like his mother, it created the strongest form of magical protection around Harry. When the dementor attacked Harry afterward, he came out unscathed, but the same cannot be said about Tom's soul. Love is truly the most powerful form of magic there is."

Snape stared at the desk in contemplation for a few moments.

"You said the boy saw a vision of the Dark Lord with Wormtail and another man with dark hair."

Dumbledore looked grave at the mention of the vision Harry had told him about at the beginning of the year.

"He told me about it, and ever since, I have been wondering how it could be possible for Harry to still have visions about Tom. The Horcrux is no more inside him, and yet he and Tom are somehow connected. It is a mystery, Severus, and one we need to solve as soon as we can."

Snape's eyes were fixed on Dumbledore.

"Are you absolutely certain that the Horcrux inside the boy is gone?"

"I am," Dumbledore nodded. "I ran all the checks there are when Harry was in the Hospital Wing after the attack. There are no traces of Tom's magic or any dark corruption either in his scar or anywhere else. The Horcrux is no longer there. I can assure you of that."

Snape stood up, his black robes swirling around his feet as he stared at the headmaster who looked up. The Potions master seemed to be contemplating his words.

Finally, he spoke up. "This is magic beyond our capabilities, headmaster. But if a connection does exist between the Dark Lord and the boy, you better believe the Dark Lord will soon discover it if he doesn't already know about it."

"Harry has been training in Occlumency for the past two years, Severus," Dumbledore replied with a slight smile, to the dark-haired man's surprise. "You give him too little credit, Severus. Harry is more accomplished than any other wizard his age, past or present."

Snape said nothing.

"It is for this reason that I am not entirely against Harry competing in this tournament," Dumbledore continued. "Harry has been up against challenges well beyond his capabilities, and every time, he has come out on top. However, he has never had to employ the might of magic and knowledge he has at his disposal. Being involved in a tournament with such high stakes would surely need him to utilize everything he has learned and subsequently inspire him to learn more. Reading and practicing spells in a controlled environment is all well and good, but it all goes out of the window in the chaos of a battlefield. Tom is not dead, and he will make his return sooner rather than later. The experience this tournament will provide Harry will prove to be invaluable."

"More than half of the champions who have previously competed in this tournament have died, headmaster. I thought you cared for the boy," Snape replied with a curl of his lips, his voice dripping with resentment.

"Do not doubt the care I have for him," Dumbledore's eyes flashed yet his tone never wavered. "I do not have even the slightest of doubts in Harry's abilities as a wizard. He is far more mature than his age suggests, and his instincts are beyond commendable. The toughest iron is forged in the hottest furnace, Severus. Harry will come out on top."

"I hope you know what you are doing, headmaster."

"Believe me, Severus. This is for the best. Both for Harry and for the future of Wizarding Britain."

Severus Snape did not bother to say anything in response to that. He merely gave the headmaster a curt nod and walked briskly toward the exit, his robes billowing behind him.

"And Severus," Dumbledore called out, halting his hand on the doorknob. He inclined his head to indicate he was listening. Dumbledore smiled serenely.

Severus scowled when Dumbledore finished with what he had to say, and gave a begrudging nod as he walked out of the headmaster's office, shutting the door behind him.

-Break-

"This will do," Harry nodded as he looked around the spartan classroom Greengrass had chosen for them to hold their secret meetings. It was in the abandoned corridor of the third floor – the one where the stone was hidden in their first year. It had been three years since they had been warned about it, and yet no one still ventured there. It was one of the most private spots in Hogwarts, that was for sure.

As agreed, Greengrass would be helping him out with the tournament. He did not know just how she could prove useful, but he would entertain her.

"Glad you approve," she replied with a little snark to her tone which Harry expertly ignored. Without bothering to say anything to the girl, he walked over to the wall to his right and started waving his wand around in intricate patterns.

Daphne stared at him from behind as he worked on what was undoubtedly a ward. She did not know what it did, but by the looks of it, the magic looked complicated.

She was one of the most capable witches at Hogwarts, even surpassing Hermione Granger in several of their classes such as Runes and Charms, but despite her considerable knowledge in both subjects, she had no idea what he was doing. It disgruntled her slightly, but it also filled her with slight hope. Perhaps Potter would tell her what he was doing and how it was done. She was offering so much for his favor. He could help her a bit more and give her some pointers so that she could improve.

She watched as the wall glowed a faint shade of blue before it dissipated, and without a word or a glance toward her, he walked over to the adjacent wall and started to repeat the process.

Daphne, curious, walked over to the wall in front of her and reached out. She frowned when her hand touched the stone. Nothing felt any different.

"It's a ward to cancel out spell damage," Harry called out without looking. "No way I'm casting any spell on an unprotected wall. Any severe damage and I'll have the professors on my case."

Daphne gave him an impressed look, not that he saw. He was busy erecting the ward over the other wall.

"Where did you learn to cast it?" She asked.

"Nosy much?" He replied. "I read, Greengrass. You should try it sometime."

"I'll have you know I'm one of the top students in our year and—"

"You think I give a damn?" He asked rhetorically, adding to her ire. "You're here to help me out with this shitty tournament, not that I'd need it. Still, if you're going to do it, then you better start being useful."

Daphne looked at him and followed his finger pointing at the stack of books he had brought from the library.

"Those books cover the previous tournaments. I don't have time for silly research, so you get to it. I want information on what the tasks were in those tournaments and a report on any pattern you could find. You better not fuck this up."

"Asshole," she muttered under her breath.

Biting back a retort, Daphne walked over and picked up the books. She leafed through one and discovered that it covered the tournaments held in the fifteenth century. The other books covered the tournaments from the subsequent centuries, and she sighed.

Harry glanced at the girl curiously. He was sure she was a prideful young woman, and he had deliberately treated her like that, just to see how much she was going to take. She was looking through the books seriously, and he wondered just what was her objective that she was willing to tolerate his bullshit which he frankly did not expect her to tolerate.

Leaving her to her research work, Harry finished warding off the walls and began working on ensuring their privacy. He could not cast anything too strong as it would interfere with the castle wards, but he could certainly ensure that no one apart from the professors could intrude.

Runes came in handy in this endeavor, and he started crafting the sequences around the door. Privacy, secrecy, insulation, and repulsion. The runes would work as desired, and they would ensure their little sessions would not be interrupted.

It took him over half an hour to complete the entire setup, and he was a little thirsty by the time he was done. He aimed his wand in his mouth and cast a controlled Aquamenti. The stream of cool water trickled down his throat.

"Find anything?" He asked once he was done and walked over. Daphne, exasperated, looked up at him and scowled.

"I'll tell you once I'm done."

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. Remember the task is in a little over two weeks. I need all the information by tomorrow."

Daphne gave him a curt nod and went back to her research. She cursed him privately, wondering just how his mind worked. There was no way she could do anything significant in only half an hour of reading. The tomes were over three hundred pages thick. It would take time.

However, she had to swallow her pride if she wanted to keep counting on his little help. In an ideal scenario, she wouldn't have even approached him, but right now, he was probably the best option she could find to help her out.

She looked up at the sound of a spark and her eyes widened slightly when she saw the glowing orb of lightning he kept aloft in front of him. The spherical mass of energy was letting out sparks as it remained suspended in the air and she saw him start to manipulate it into different shapes.

Elemental spells were taught to sixth-year students and above, and manipulation of volatile elements was covered in their NEWT Charms. For Potter to already manage both…

For the first time since his name came out of the goblet, Daphne thought that he might actually be the favorite to win it all.

TBC.

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