arguments
1 november 1996
Euphemia’s POV
I sit across from the Headmaster, morning sunlight streaming in through the windows, and listen to him make excuses after excuses. We’ve been arguing for about 20 minutes now. Harry and the Triwizard Tournament was all I could think about when I woke up this morning, so I slipped out of bed and dressed earlier than I normally would on a Sunday morning.
I went to the Owlery first and sent the letters I scribbled out last night to Remus and Sirius and then to Dumbledore’s office, armed with multiple options that I felt were all perfectly reasonable. Every single one has been shot down. McGonagall stands next to Dumbledore’s desk, watching mostly in silence; although I can tell she agrees with me more than she’ll say.
“The Goblet constitutes a binding contact. Harry must participate in the tournament,” Dumbledore says in the same calm and lightly condescending tone he has spoken to me with since I entered his office.
“You can’t hold him to a contract someone else signed for him! He is a child!” I respond, beyond exasperated and pissed off.
“Euphemia, the world has been far too cruel for either of you to still be considered children,” he responds, tilting his head slightly.
“How can you not see a problem with that? So what, you consider him an adult so you’ll force him through even more trauma for the entertainment of the masses?” I snap back, not believing that the man who has always seemed to genuinely care for Harry and I could be so cavalier about this.
“Miss Potter, I will ask you to speak to the Headmaster with the tone deserving of him and is becoming of a Gryffindor,” McGonagall scolds.
“Harry is a minor in the eyes of the law and I am his guardian, not you!” I press on, my eyes boring into the man across from me without acknowledging I heard my Head of House. “I have spent my entire life trying to give him as normal a life as possible and you have the audacity to sit there and tell me it was useless? That you are willing to continually put him through trials that he is not old enough to consent to? Do you care at all that every single year he has attended this school he has been put in danger, almost dying at least three times in three years? How can you sit here and look me in the eyes and tell me that is acceptable in any way?” I’m yelling now but I don’t care. They can give me detention for the next two years if it means Harry is pulled from the tournament. Dumbledore doesn’t speak for a long, tense moment; he just sits still and stares at me as I’m a disappointing child he can’t figure out how to push in the right direction.
“Are you quite finished?” He says finally but I don’t respond. I just grit my teeth and hold back what I think of him at this moment. “Good. Now I consulted with Mr. Crouch on this issue last night and he stated, as I have already told you, that the rules are absolute. If a person’s name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, regardless of age or intent, they are obligated by a magically binding contract to participate. While Harry must compete, I assure you that I am doing everything in my power to discover exactly how his name ended up flying out of the goblet.” Dumbledore sits forwards and folds his hands on his desk, his eyes boring into me over his crescent moon spectacles. I hold his gaze for a moment before looking up at McGonagall but she doesn’t quite meet my eyes so I look back to the Headmaster, the supposedly most powerful wizards alive. “Now, will that be all, Miss Potter?”
I swallow a scoff, biting the inside of my cheek so hard I’m sure it's bleeding. After a moment, I stand from my chair and step towards the large desk, now looking down at the man.
“If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you personally responsible,” I say slowly, leaning my hands on his desk.
“I have no doubt, Miss Potter. You are every bit your parents’ child, after all,” he says pleasantly, as if we were having a pleasant chat about my goals in life. This time I don’t hold back my scoff as I push away from the desk and turn on my heel, leaving his office and slamming the door behind me.
I storm back into the Gryffindor Tower and head back into my room, the long walk through the castle doing nothing to lessen my anger. I open the door to my room to see Harry and Mattheo talking very seriously by the fire. At the sound of the door, both their heads whip to me and Harry’s eyes meet mine.
“Mia, I swear I didn’t-”
“I know,” I respond immediately, knowing my brother well enough to know glory isn’t something he chases. “I just came from Dumbledore’s office…” I look over Harry’s shoulder to Matt, who’s looking down at the fire.
“What did he say?” Harry asks, a small sliver of hope in his eyes.
“He said there’s nothing to be done, I can’t believe it but he didn’t budge,” I sigh and shake my head and the tiny sliver of hope in his eyes fades. I step further into the room and wrap my arms around him, one hand on the back of his head as he rests his forehead on my shoulder and his arms around my waist, the way we’d hold each other when we were little and scared; although now he’s several inches taller than me.
“I’m so sorry, Haz,” I whisper, blinking tears away, refusing to show him how truly terrified I am for him. “I’m gonna help you, okay?” I say, pulling back to look into his eyes, “I’ll teach you anything you need to know, we’ll get you through this. I promise.”
“I know, Mia. It’s not your fault,” Harry says quietly.
“Did they tell you about the first task?” Harry nods.
“Supposed to test our courage they said but wouldn’t say how. It's on the 28th, we can’t ask for help from teachers and we can only have our wands with us.”
“Don’t give you much to go on, huh?” Mattheo adds quietly.
“I’ll put together a list of spells that might come in handy, and I can teach you the ones you don’t know already. And I’ll see if I can find any information on what the tasks have been in the past, see if we can get any idea of what you’ll face and I’ve written to Sirius and Remus,” Harry startles for a moment at me using Sirius’ real name, glancing at Mattheo for a moment but he must not care that I’ve told him because the look faded quickly, “Maybe Dumbledore will listen to them or maybe they have some information about the Tournament, but let's not worry about it today, okay?” Harry nods again, his eyes cast down.
“I have to go to this stupid photo thing,” he says quietly and I watch as Harry moves to the door and opens it slowly, like going back into the world is the last thing he wants.
“Hey, Haz,” I call, causing him to turn around, “Don’t listen to anyone else, ‘kay? We know the truth, what anyone else thinks doesn’t matter.” Harry nods, forcing a small smile my way before stepping out of my room, the door closing behind me.
As soon as the door closes, all the strength drains from my body and I slump onto the edge of my bed, head in my hands as tears threaten to spill over onto my cheeks.
“Harry’s a smart kid… He’ll be okay,” Mattheo says softly, as I hear his footsteps coming closer till he is kneeling in front of me, his hands on my knees, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. I drop my hands from my face and look at my boyfriend, his warm brown eyes filled with worry and sympathy.
“What if he’s not okay? I mean they added an age requirement for a reason and even then they made no assurance of safety. What if he-” My throat tightens as tears spill onto my cheeks and panic threatens to overtake me again but Matt stands and pulls me into his arms, my head resting on his chest, his heart beating softly.
“He’s gonna be okay, princess. We’ll help him and he’ll get through it just like he always has,” he says softly, rubbing my back and running his fingers through my hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“Why would anyone do this to him?” I ask distantly, only one or two names come to mind but I hesitate to speak them outloud, realizing for the first time in a while that the man standing in front of me is his son, and the second is his uncle. He wouldn’t… No, he couldn’t have, he’s not old enough. Get it together, Euphemia.
“Mia, I promise I had nothing to do with it,” Mattheo starts, seeming to read the direction my mind went.
“No, I know,” I say quickly, standing up and cupping his face with my hands. “I trust you, Matt. Promise… Do you think Malfoy’s father might have something to do with it? He did give Ginny your father’s diary a few years back.” Mattheo’s face scrunches up in thought and steps back, shaking his head.
“I don’t know if Lucius is crafty enough for something like this,” he says quietly. “The diary would have been easy to slip into her things and easy to hide his guilt but… I can’t even fathom how you would trick a magical object like the Goblet of Fire.’
“But who else? Do you think…” Mattheo turns to me quickly, a dark look flashing in his eyes.
“My father is dead,” he says bluntly.
“Right… No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought him up,” I say, hugging my arms across my core, my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I think.
“It’s alright, I don’t blame you. It’s a… natural leap, I guess.” Mattheo and I stand there in the tensest silence since he cornered me at the start of term. I take a step forward and pull Matt’s face down to mine, connecting our lips.
“I trust you,” I mutter between kisses, and his arms wrap more tightly around me, pulling me so close I feel like we might just melt together.
“I know, princess. I trust you too,” he whispers back, resting his forehead against mine. “It’s all good, baby.”
✦
13 november 1996
I used to think that my fourth year, when Harry and I were suspected of opening the Chamber of Secrets and treated like social pariahs, was the worst case scenario. Well, let’s just say that this time around, no one is afraid we will petrify them so they’ve gotten much braver. Malfoy, charming as ever, managed to get his hands on a bunch of Hermione’s S.P.E.W. badges and transformed them into buttons which read all sorts of nasty things: Potter Stinks, Support Cedric Diggory, the REAL Hogwarts Champion, Diggory Rules, Potter Drools etc. Half the school is wearing them, much to Hermione’s dismay since barely anyone wore her version of the badges before.
Mattheo, protective as ever, has spent much of his time glaring at anyone who dares to look at me sideways and has gotten into multiple fights in defense of me. I’ve pulled him out of two confrontations today alone, and we’re barely halfway through the day. Honestly, with how many fights he gets in, I’m surprised they haven’t taken his prefect badge away yet. The Twins have been enacting vengeance in their own ways, mostly through pranks and charming the buttons to say nasty things about the wearer instead.
Harry and Ron are at odds, also, so Harry has been spending more time than normal with me. I’ve been trying to help with defensive spells and curses to prepare him for the first tasks and he is picking them up quickly, but it doesn’t help much to assuage our anxiety.
“Hi Potter, how’s your day going? Like the badge?” Elladora coos from behind me in the library, pulling my mind from my studies. Typical that she chose the only period I don’t share with Mattheo today to come taunt me. I’ve got a free period after lunch while Matt is stuck in Arithmancy.
“Bugger off, Lestrange,” I say without turning or looking up from my Potions essay.
“What? You don’t want to see my badge?” She says, stalking around me before leaning over the table, but I still don’t look up.
“Honestly, I couldn’t give fewer shits about anything having to do with you,” I say with a flat tone, flipping through my text book.
“Hm, well, it’s alright I suppose. I’ll have plenty of time to show it off. Real shame you’ve drug Mattheo into your mess and sullied him with your tainted blood,” Elladora coos cruelly.
“You do know that he's a half blood, yes? Just like me,” I say simply, finally looking up at the girl. She wears a Potter Stinks badge, her unruly dark hair tied up in a bun so as to ensure the badge is always visible. “So either we are both tainted or neither of us are. You can’t have it both ways, Ella,” I continue, purposefully using her nickname and her lip curls up in a sneer.
“Half Blood bitch,” she sneers, leaning closer to my face but I don’t back up, determined to not give Elladora Lestrange a single second of satisfaction.
“Damn, got me there. How’d you come up with your insults? They’re just so unique,” I snark back dryly and stand, grabbing my belongings to push past the Slytherin girl to find somewhere with actual peace.
“Your brother is going to die,” she calls after me, stopping me in my tracks. “Everyone knows it.” Without even thinking, I drop everything from my arms and whip around, punching Elladora straight in the nose so hard she stumbles back into the table I was sitting at, all the anxiety and anger and stress from the last few weeks boiling over. Luckily, I had chosen to set up in a back corner of the library, so no one is currently around to witness my outrage. The girl sits on the floor, blood beginning to drip from her nose as she glares up at me.
“Keep mine, my brother’s and my boyfriend’s names out of your disgusting prejudiced mouth, or I’ll do a lot worse next time,” I say lowly, anger coursing through my body as I turn on my heel, summon my belongings back into my arms with wandless magic and storm out of the library, through the castle and up to the Astronomy Tower.
I’m there nearly an hour later when Mattheo climbs the steps, coming to meet me after his Arithmancy lesson. “Hey, Princess,” he says lightly and I turn my head to face him, offering him a half smile. “Oof, that bad, huh?” he asks, pulling out his own cigarette as I take a drag of mine.
“Just tired,” I say softly, looking out over the grounds, the trees have almost all lost their leaves and the color seems to be leaking from the world under the gray sky.
“Oi! Potter!” Theo’s voice echoes up the stairs, accompanied by heavy footsteps.
“Mia! Are you up here?” Fred’s voice calls and both Mattheo and I turn around to see Enzo and Theo bounding up the stairs, followed surprisingly by Fred and George. While our friends have each, for the most part, accepted mine and Mattheo’s relationship, getting them to all be friends has been a little more challenging. Well just the boys really; Astoria, Angelina, Alicia and I all get on great.
“Is it true?” Enzo huffs breathlessly, hunching over as he tries to catch his breath.
“Is what true?” Mattheo asks, looking between the three of us.
“Mia sucker punched Ella! We saw her running to the infirmary with blood dripping from her nose muttering about that ‘stupid Potter bitch.’” Theo says.
So if it is true?” Freddie asks, recovering his breath.
I hold up my right hand, knuckles turning slightly bruised already and Theo, Enoz, George and Fred start cracking up.
“Oh man, what I would’ve paid to see that!” laughs Enzo.
“Can’t blame you, honestly. I’ve been wondering when the perfect act was gonna crack under the pressure.” Theo responds.
“Good on you, Phe. She’s been asking for that for years!” Freddie whoops, high fiving George.
“What happened?” Mattheo asks seriously, cradling my hand in his. I just shrug.
“She was being a bitch, doesn’t matter,” I sigh, leaning back against a stone pillar and taking a final drag of my cigarette before stubbing it out and flicking it over the edge of the tower.
“Mia…” Mattheo says, stepping closer to me, holding my gaze intently. the intensity between us causing the other two boys to quiet down for a moment.
“She said Harry is going to die,” I whisper, barely able to utter the words, as if speaking them allowed will make them a reality. Mattheo’s face hardens before my eyes and I can practically see the battle raging behind his eyes, to stay and comfort me or go after her. “It’s whatever, I took care of it.”
“Are you okay?” He asks and I nod. “Hand hurt?”
“Yeah,” I admit, flexing my hand slightly.
“Kinda wish I was there. I bet you looked so hot,” Mattheo mutters, looking down at me, my hand still held gently in his.
“You’re ridiculous,” I chuckle.
“Man, Mia, I can’t believe you actually punched her!” George laughs, shaking his head.
“Listen, we were going to plan a prank on Malfoy for making those bloody badges and now, we can extend the target rage,” Fred says, deviously.
“We’ll help,” Enzo offers, patting Theo on the back as well.
“Really?” George questions, looking suspicious.
“Hell yeah,” Mattheo says, “They need to pay.”
And I watch as the five boys all smile deviously at each other, and I can’t help but smile as I watch some of my favorite people in the world get completely and totally on the same side for once.