When Patterns Are Broken

“Sugar quill.”

Harry rode the stairs up to Dumbledore’s office the morning after Halloween. After escaping the common room, he’d run into Hermione bearing toast, but didn’t have time to chat as he’d got a note requesting his presence. 

“Harry, come in.”

Harry left the door open and looked at Fawkes’ perch. He’d recently had a burning day as he was molting. Dumbledore was surrounded by the trophies of his station, strange metal devices with no discernable purpose. McGonagall and Snape stood beside Dumbledore. 

“Have a seat, please.”

Harry sat down, still looking around the room. “Has the investigation started?” 

Dumbledore laced his fingers together. “We need to discuss your behavior towards Professor Snape.”

Harry looked at him. Dumbledore watched him over his half-moon lenses, his expression unreadable. Harry stood up.

“No.”

“Harry…”

“You’ll be hearing from my solicitor, I’m sure. I believe Sirius has already contacted the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to investigate, as you’ve proven yourselves incapable of performing even that basic task.” 

Dumbledore sat up. “We cannot tolerate your treatment of Professor Snape. Professor McGonagall has already taken points—”

“Splendid. I’m sure that’s very edifying for a man who makes a living screaming at children.”

“Listen here, Potter—”

“Severus—”

“What has got into you!”

Dumbledore sighed. “Maybe we should speak at a later time.”

Harry left Dumbledore’s office. The shouting started as soon as the door closed. In truth, Sirius hadn’t seemed very hopeful about involving law enforcement. Hogwarts stood apart from the Ministry, a small kingdom over which Dumbledore ruled. Even Lucius Malfoy’s role as a school governor hadn’t got Moody removed for assaulting his son. 

Harry found an empty room to spend the day in. 

School had once again become a living nightmare. He only spoke to Hermione, Neville, and Theo, and saw Theo least of all as the entire school was outraged at Harry, and by extension Gryffindor. He’d asked Neville for help on different plants on the Hogwarts grounds, and Theo had somehow got a list of all the dragons currently at the Romanian sanctuary. Harry wasn’t sure what to do with Hermione. She seemed to want to bridge the divide between him and Ron, but Harry wasn’t interested in making amends as he had done nothing wrong, so she spent her time increasingly with Ron. Harry didn’t know how she tolerated it. 

The letter from Ms. Davies had been disappointing. The Goblet of Fire was an ancient and poorly understood artifact. It didn’t form verbal or written contracts. What little she had been able to find mirrored Crouch’s language. Harry had to compete, make a genuine effort to win. The consequences for failing to do so were unknown, but Harry had learned to expect the worst. 

Harry started clearing his mind throughout the day, getting used to the whiplash of hiding his own emotions. He was put to the test during double Potions. Snape had been on the warpath, and most of the Slytherins were out for blood. He noticed distantly that many of them were wearing a badge. He doubted Hermione’s S.P.E.W. influence had spread into their house, but he wasn’t curious enough to look at them. He didn’t feel like it. He didn’t feel much of anything. 

“Like them, Potter?” 

Harry turned to Malfoy. “Do I like what?”

Malfoy looked at him weird, then held up the badge. Support CEDRIC DIGGORY — The REAL Hogwarts Champion

“Yeah, looks great.”

“That’s not all they do!” At a press of his finger, the message changed to POTTER STINKS

“Okay?”

They weren’t paying much attention to his nonreaction, as a wave of badges flashed his name in green. He hoped Theo got one as a souvenir. 

“Oh, that’s really funny,” Hermione started. 

“Don’t bother,” Harry said. “I don’t really care.” 

She looked at him with concern. “Harry, lately you’ve been—”

“Want one, Granger?” Malfoy said. “I’ve got loads, but don’t touch my hand—”

“Silencio.”

Malfoy’s mouth kept moving but he was blessedly silent. Someone managed a finite on him and he started waving his wand around. Harry just kept silencing him until Snape showed up. Sadly, half way through their lesson Colin Creevey came to retrieve Harry for a photoshoot. It was a toss up which was worse, the photoshoot or being poisoned by Snape. 

Colin led him to a small classroom, in which the other champions were already gathered in various states of moodiness. A creepy man with a camera was staring at Fleur. Bagman was there directing it all. And Harry met Rita Skeeter. 

“I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?” she said, giving Harry a piercing look. 

“Certainly, if Harry has no objection.”

Skeeter grabbed Harry’s arm to drag him off. He tried pulling away but her grip tightened. 

“Let go of me.”

“Now, it will only be a moment,” Skeeter said, yanking him.

Harry’s wand was in his hand. Skeeter’s eyes began to sparkle. “What are you planning on doing with that, dear?”

“Rita,” Bagman said, smiling in a painful looking way. “It seems Harry does have an objection.”

“Very well,” she said, finally letting him go. Harry wondered how much it would cost to buy out the Daily Prophet. Sirius would probably do it for him. 

Harry moved away from her. He found a seat next to Cedric and waited quietly until Dumbledore arrived with Ollivander to check over their wands. He learned that veela hair could be used in wands, that Cedric polished his every night—which Harry failed to suppress a snort at—and saw birds explode out of a wand. He wanted to try that spell later, recalling what Walburga had said about birds blocking curses. 

As Ollivander examined his holly wand, Harry was reminded of what the man had said when he first got it. That he and Riddle shared a core, a feather from the same phoenix. Harry didn’t know if that meant anything, but it was worth looking into. As they were about to leave, Bagman insisted on taking photos. 

“I’m not doing this,” Harry said. He saw Skeeter slinking towards him and wished he had stayed in Potions. He left before anyone could stop him, hurrying down the corridor and slipping into one of the hidden passages he recalled. He ended up on the sixth floor somehow, but eventually made it down to the kitchens where he found some modicum of peace. 

Skeeter had produced a remarkable amount of material based on the small interaction they had. Harry was certain Sirius actually was looking into buying the Daily Prophet. Maybe as a Yule present. Mostly Skeeter had targeted students willing to talk about Harry, which was essentially everyone. Hermione was also a victim, and Harry was even more averse to spending time with her. He didn’t want to make it worse for her. He was also annoyed that she kept pushing for him to make up with Ron. He wasn’t interested in doing that. He’d taken to avoiding the library, checking books out and finding some abandoned classroom to read in. Krum had started spending time there and was followed around by fans, making it an inhospitable environment. 

Harry was only allowed his wand for the first task and, unless he summoned something, was limited in what types of magic he could use. 

"I doubt they expect us to slay a dragon," Harry said, flipping through his notes. While the different species had various habits and defenses, they shared similarities. They were carnivorous, resistant to magic, and had very few weak points, chief among them being the eyes. 

"Dragon keepers work in teams," Theo said. "A single witch or wizard is usually incapable of restraining one, much less killing it."

"I could drug it," Harry said, "if we're able to make the potion, find where it's being kept, and access its food. Draught of Living Death?"

"You'd have to get an entire cauldron of it in the dragon somehow," Theo said. "We have no way of knowing if it even works on dragons. The potions we learn and have access to in the library are for magical humans. I think we should return to what the task is."

Harry leaned back and stared at the ceiling. It was dark and mossy, not unusual for the neglected dungeons. "In muggle stories dragons usually guard something, like treasure or a princess."

"Dragons aren't intelligent enough to guard a person," Theo said, looking at him. "But they are known to be protective of their eggs. Nesting mothers account for the majority of fatalities."

Harry sat back up. "You think we have to steal an egg?"

"Or something placed in a dragon's nest."

"Then attacking the eyes is out. It says here it sends the dragon into a rage. The choices are to subdue it or distract it."

"You could drown it," Theo said. "Surround its head with water. Or suffocate it some other way."

Harry's eyes widened. "That gives me an idea."

"That's good," Theo said neutrally, pulling over another book. "You also need to protect yourself. There's a ritual I've found that could help."

Hermione invited Harry to Hogsmeade the weekend before the first task.

"You should go with Ron," Harry said. "I'm still working out what I need to do."

Hermione fidgeted a little. "I was planning on us meeting him at the Three Broomsticks."

"Oh." Harry sighed. "You know you can be friends with both of us without me and Ron being friends, right?"

"But this is so stupid! I know you miss him—"

"I really don't."

"—and he misses you!"

Harry looked to the side. "I think it's more that he misses being friends with Harry Potter."

"He's just jealous," Hermione said. "He has so many older brothers, and you get so much attention…"

"That isn't a good excuse," Harry said. "If it's so difficult to be friends with someone who is famous for his parents dying, then maybe we shouldn't be friends." Harry took a breath. "And it isn't just his jealousy. He has said things that I find rather offensive. I don't like it."

"Harry—"

"I'm going to the library, Hermione. I don't have time to manage Ron's feelings when there's a possibility I'll be dying in a few days."

Harry walked off, feeling bad for leaving Hermione like that, but too frustrated and anxious to really care. He did go to the library, which was thankfully quiet due to everyone having gone to Hogsmeade. He found Theo in his usual spot.

"Are you going to ask me to sneak into Hogsmeade again?" Theo asked, already closing his book. "My father still won't sign my form."

"I made my uncle sign mine," Harry said. "I've got permission. You can use my cloak until we get into the village."

"And your glasses?"

"Of course. If you haven't noticed, I haven't been very popular lately."

Harry left through the front door looking like himself, Theo under the cloak at his side. Halfway there they ducked into the trees, Theo removing the cloak and Harry putting on his disguise.

"Where do you want to go?" Theo asked as they walked.

"Not the Three Broomsticks. There's usually a teacher there, and if it's Moody I don't want to risk him seeing through this." 

Harry thought for a bit and had another amazingly terrible idea. "I can ask my house-elf to take us to Diagon Alley."

Theo watched him for a moment, then shrugged. "Why not?"

Kreacher was not happy his services were being used for Harry to leave Hogwarts, but Sirius thought it was fantastic.

"I wish I had thought of that in school!" 

After speaking with Sirius that evening, Harry checked his map once again to see if he could spot Charlie on it. They determined the dragon wouldn't be in the castle, but somewhere on the grounds. To his delight, Harry saw a group of names in the Forbidden Forest, including Hagrid taking Maxime on a stroll. Marking the location, Harry left his cloak and map behind and snuck out the old fashioned way.

Once under the trees, he transformed into a fox. His more sensitive ears easily picked up the sounds of roaring, trees breaking, and the shouts of dragon keepers.

He spotted two immense figures, Hagrid and Madame Maxime. He tried not to feel betrayed, which was easier to do as a fox. He looked at the dragons instead, identifying them by shape as his color vision was diminished as a fox. He watched as Hagrid was approached by Charlie Weasley, who confirmed the species—Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green, and Hungarian Horntail—and Harry's suspicion that the task was to get past the dragon. Worse, that they were nesting mothers. He bared his teeth when Hagrid told Charlie he thought Harry was fine. Deciding he'd had enough, Harry went back to the castle.

In the morning, he sent Cedric a brief note about the dragons, since everyone else already knew. 

The room was cold. Harry could see his breath in the air. The Hogwarts dungeons were extensive, and deep, a confusing warren not even the Marauders had fully mapped. Theo had led him here from the Slytherin common room shortly after curfew. Harry sat in the middle of a circle of runes while Theo softly chanted. He watched as the runes began to glow with a dark light, casting strange shadows against the walls. Harry shivered, but didn’t move. The runes began to rise, misty shapes that floated mid air, contracting around him. He looked at Theo, whose eyes were wide and unseeing, reflecting something Harry couldn’t comprehend, otherworldly. 

Harry bit his lip, drawing blood as the runes pierced his skin like brutal shards of ice. He thought he’d never be warm again. 

The book closed with a snap that echoed in the room. The sconces flickered back to life. Theo sat down with a thump, and Harry was too tired to check on him, choosing to lay down where he was. 

“We can’t sleep down here,” he mumbled, wishing he’d put his robe back on first so there was something between him and the stone floor. 

“Why not?”

Some time later, Harry stood up. Theo was still passed out. He checked the time and saw it was past two in the morning. He got the rest of his clothes on, then crouched next to Theo to shake him lightly. 

Theo jerked awake, eyes wide and fearful. Harry sat back, holding his hands away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Theo said, his voice clear. “What time is it?”

“Just past two.”

Theo sat up, then reached for Harry’s hand, picking it up and turning it over. “I think it worked.”

“I could test it.”

“Please don’t. The point is to not be burned alive.” He reached his hand towards Harry’s face. Harry froze. Theo brushed his hair aside and traced his scar. “I’ve been trying to find out what this means.”

“It’s just a scar,” Harry said, blushing. 

Theo closed his eyes then stood, drawing Harry up with him. For a moment, he wrapped their fingers together. “Hungarian Horntail?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“You do have the worst luck.”

Harry looked at the little Hungarian Horntail in his hand and smiled. He put the model into his pocket and walked out of the tent. 

The dragon was not happy. She curled protectively around her eggs while hundreds of people in the audience made a deafening din. Harry knew Sirius was watching somewhere, probably ready to eliminate the dragon if Harry’s life was at risk. He watched the dragon, mind drifting…

“Avis.”

The birds flew out of his wand and swarmed the dragon’s head. She twisted her neck, snapping at them, her spiked tail twitching in agitation. 

“Obscuro.”

The blindfold wrapped tightly around her eyes and she swung her head more wildly, agitated, afraid, ready to use her best defense. Harry aimed his wand as she opened her mouth, prepared to breathe fire.

“Engorgio.”

He knew from his research that the eyes were vulnerable. It stood to reason her other organs would be too. Her tongue began to swell, filling her mouth and trapping her fire inside, growing so heavy it pulled her head down. She was still moving. He ran in, casting more spells.

“Aguamenti. Glacius.” Water flooded over her and froze. It wouldn’t last long. He got to the eggs and grabbed the golden one, the rime of ice cracking loudly as the dragon thrashed. He relied on her being aware enough not to crush her own eggs in her panic, but blocked a swing of her tail with a shaky shield that barely held up. 

It didn’t matter, he was done. 

Harry blinked in mild confusion when he realized someone was shaking him. 

“...otter. Mr. Potter? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”

“What?” He looked up at McGonagall, who looked like she’d aged overnight. “No, I’m fine. Where’s Sirius?”

“I think you’re in shock, Potter,” McGonagall said, voice shaky. “I’m sure Poppy has a calming draught for you.”

Harry let himself be steered towards the medical tent, where Madam Pomfrey made him sit down. He saw Cedric looking half roasted, covered in bandages. 

“Harry!” He looked up and saw Hermione, having brought Ron along for some reason. “That was amazing charm work! I’ve never seen that much water conjured before…”

“Thank you,” he said, a little disoriented. He had a lot of practice on the targets at Grimmauld Place, though none of them were dragon-shaped. Maybe over the summer they could diversify. 

“Harry,” Ron started, then Sirius burst in. 

Harry smiled up at him. “I’m glad you could make it.”

Sirius sat down and put an arm around his shoulders. “It’s been a nightmare. I knew you could handle yourself, and if worse came to worse…”

“Yeah,” Harry said. He could have gutted her, pierced her brain through her eyes, suffocated her….

“We’ve been trying to get an investigation started, but the Ministry and DMLE are being difficult. They don’t think an actual crime has been committed, or is in the process of being committed. We’re looking into unwilling magical contracts, but there’s so little information on that.”

Harry barely noticed that Hermione and Ron had left. 

“Have you checked that egg yet?”

Harry shook his head. “They haven’t announced my score.”

“So? May as well crack it open.”

Harry did, and immediately closed it when it let out a wail. 

Sirius’ smile dropped. “That’s Mermish. You’ll need to stick it underwater to understand.”

Harry frowned. “I’m guessing there are merpeople in the lake.” He looked down at the egg. “I can’t swim.”

Sirius squeezed his shoulders. “You’ll have time to learn how, or learn spells so you don’t have to.” He looked at the tent flap. “I think they’re calling you for scores.”

As they left the tent, Harry saw a tall figure with dark hair dart away. Sirius looked at where the person had disappeared, then down at Harry with a conspiratorial smile.

"Was that a green tie I saw?"

Harry looked away. "Your eyes must be failing you in your old age."

Sirius snorted. "Remember what we talked about? It's okay if you—"

"I know," Harry said. 

Harry looked up at the judges. Dumbledore was giving Sirius a hard stare.

"What's his problem?"

"I may have snuck in."

They watched as the judges shot scores into the air.

"Lily had a talent for charms," Sirius said casually. 

"Are these numbers supposed to mean anything to me?"

Harry looked out at the crowd. Despite their treatment of him for the last month, they were happy enough to cheer now. 

"You don't have to forgive them," Sirius said. "Let's get you back up to the castle before they descend."

Charlie Weasley ran over to them, giving Sirius a confused smile, before turning to Harry. "You tied for first place with Krum! Oh, Bagman wants you in the tent again."

Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulder. "I see Dumbledore coming this way. And Snape's looking more murderous than usual. I believe this is where we part ways."

Harry stood around bored while Bagman was chatty. The egg was a clue, there were three months until the next task. When he was released, he found Hermione and Ron waiting outside for him. He glanced at them, then started walking back to the castle.

"Harry," Ron said, "whoever put your name in the goblet…I reckon…I reckon they're trying to kill you!"

Harry was saved from responding when he was attacked from the woods. He stunned the person leaping at him, only to find Rita Skeeter in a pile of acid green robes and crocodile skin accoutrement.

"Harry!" Hermione said, alarmed. Harry gently levitated Skeeter back into the woods and set her behind a tree. "You can't just attack people like that! We should get someone to help."

"I'm sure someone or something will come along that wakes her up."

The next time Harry saw Skeeter he was lassoing a skrewt and wondering if he could ride it like a horse. Perhaps that was the purpose of a skrewt. He watched as Skeeter inelegantly manipulated Hagrid into an interview. He remembered the feeling of Hagrid drunkenly grabbing his arm and said nothing. Maybe Skeeter would solve the mystery of the blast-ended skrewt.

The weirdness of the day was only eclipsed by Hermione leading him and Ron to the kitchens, where Harry was ensnared by an oversized tea cozy. Once he was able to breathe again, he realized it was Dobby.

"How long have you been here?" He asked the oddly dressed elf. He looked like he'd blindly gone through a lost items bin, and yet he made it work. Dobby explained how, after two years of searching for work, he finally found employment at Hogwarts.

"Winky is here too!"

Dobby hauled a drunken Winky over. She was a wreck, crying non-stop. Hermione tried to soothe her but made it worse.

"She lost her entire world," Harry said, as Ron availed himself of the kitchen elves. Hermione praised Dobby for his insistence on being paid, however little, and his pursuit of freedom. The other elves avoided both Dobby and Winky. At least they had each other.

Hermione was completely thrown by Dobby negotiating for less pay and Winky's continuing loyalty to Crouch. She seemed to think it would resolve itself. Ron was happy enough to mindlessly eat whatever the house-elves had given him while they walked back to the common room.

"Winky will realize she's better off," she said, "and the other house-elves will see how happy Dobby is!"

“Maybe there should be a house-elf rehoming service?” Harry said. “A support system for dismissed house-elves.”

Hermione took out a notebook, quill scratching furiously as she took notes.

Harry was pondering existence, holding his guinea fowl turned guinea pig pensively, when McGonagall announced the Yule Ball. Lavender and Parvati were giggling and looking at him, and Harry felt a little sick. He was a commodity to these people. McGonagall’s announcement did explain the dress robes on their school supply list, an item he forwent purchasing given how often Kreacher turned up more of the things. He had robes from at least five generations of Blacks. 

As the bell rang, McGonagall said, “Potter, a word please.”

“Yes, professor? Was there something wrong with my guinea pig? Are we finally discussing the ethics of—”

“Potter, the champions and their partners—”

“What partners?”

After deciding he wasn’t playing stupid on purpose, she said, “Your partners for the Yule Ball. Your dance partner.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Oh yes, you do. It’s traditional, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of this school.”

“You’re serious? You do recall I was entered into this unwillingly? Does that not matter?”

“You heard me, Potter. My word is final.”

The following days were some of the worst he had experienced at Hogwarts. He’d prefer people go back to hating him, rather than all the giggling and predatory looks. Girls kept approaching him and asking him to the dance, and he immediately landed upon the excuse that he already had a date. Ron kept asking who it was.

Harry knew that anyone he would go with would end up in the papers. He couldn’t sneeze without it being a headline. The Daily Prophet owner wasn’t taking any offers, clinging to the thin veneer of journalistic integrity and free speech, and the wizarding world lagged well behind the muggle world in defamation law. Harry doubted the Wizengamot knew what a civil right was.

As for the person he’d prefer to spend time with, that presented its own risks. His father had called him home for the break anyway. 

Harry and Theo submerged the egg in water to divine its message. Something of his would be taken and placed in the lake, and he had an hour to retrieve it. 

“It would be too easy to avoid the whole thing if it was something you could hide,” Theo said, looking at the bucket of water in which the egg sat. 

“I’d just put everything in my trunk and send it away,” Harry agreed. “You need parseltongue to open it. But…they set me in front of a dragon, I wouldn’t put it past them to take my trunk as is.”

“What about Hedwig? It does say what you’ll sorely miss.”

“It also says it won’t come back. You think they’d murder my owl?”

“Unless it’s an empty threat.”

“The egg is empty,” Harry said, poking at it. “I don’t think it really matters what they take, I have to retrieve it anyway.”

He turned to Theo, who had a distant look in his eyes. Harry was distracted by the line of his neck and didn’t realize Theo had started speaking. 

“Harry?”

He blinked, face heating, and could see from the way Theo’s mouth twitched that he was being laughed at. Harry looked away before he could be further distracted. He cleared his throat. 

“Yes?”

“I was saying the bubble-head charm might work, but you’d need to learn how to swim. We also have to consider the temperature of the lake in February.”

Harry frowned thoughtfully. “Bagman didn’t say I could only use my wand. I could bring a potion, or diving gear that muggles use. The only problem with that is that it covers your mouth, and I think you need special training to use it.”

“A potion, or maybe a plant. Something to help you breathe underwater, that’s the most important part. Unless you’re able to summon the item stolen. That would also be too easy, come to think of it.”

“So they put an anti-summoning jinx on it,” Harry said. “Or it’s a living thing. Like Hedwig.”

“Or a person,” Theo added softly. 

“They wouldn’t take you,” Harry dismissed. “Imagine what your father would do…” he stopped, realizing what he just said. Theo looked malevolently pleased, an unsettling combination. Harry felt a little like spontaneously combusting. It would be a neat way out of the situation. 

Thankfully, Theo let it go. “Perhaps Sirius, then. Or one of your other friends.”

“What if they stuck Ron down there? I think I’d just leave him.”

Ron was building a card tower with exploding snap cards, which Harry watched with growing anticipation, book forgotten. Snape had announced they would be tested on antidotes the last day of term, and Ron was railing against the unfairness of being made to learn.

“You’re not exactly straining yourself,” Hermione said, studying her own Potions notes. 

“It’s nearly Yule,” Harry said. “It’s not a surprise most people are slacking off.”

Hermione turned on him. “And why aren’t you doing something constructive?”’

“Aren’t I?” Harry asked, looking in confusion at the cover of his book. It said Flying with the Cannons. He’d forgotten he’d switched the covers with a book on the uses of blood in potions. “Oh. Like what?”

“The egg!”

“Don’t worry about the egg, Hermione.”

“But it might take weeks to work it out!” 

The cards exploded. 

Fred and George came in to borrow Pigwidgeon. 

“He’s in the Owlery, why?”

“Because George wants to invite him to the ball.”

“Because we want to send a letter, you stupid git.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, contemplating what Fred had said. McGonagall hadn’t given him parameters for a dance partner. He was thinking about how to go through with it while Ron explained how he valued women based on their appearance. Harry sat with Ron to keep the peace, but he hoped Hermione would stop putting up with him. 

Particularly when Ron asked her to the ball as a last resort. 

On Yule, Harry avoided the common room, where people were turning into canaries. He got a bucket of meat from the kitchens and went in search of the thestrals. 

After a few hours of exploring, he found the herd surprisingly close to the castle. Once the thestrals overcame their skittishness, they eagerly snatched chunks of meat out of the air. Not wanting to stay out too long in the cold, he found a fallen log and cut it to a reasonable size, then took it back to the castle to burn in an abandoned classroom. He was surprised that, instead of owl delivery, the house-elves had got their hands on his gifts from Theo, Sirius, Kreacher and Walburga. They popped up around him as the log began to burn. When a small treacle tart appeared, he recalled that Yule was also for remembering the dead. He ate it as he watched the crackling fire.

It wasn’t the same as being at home, but it was fine.

Christmas was off to a terrifying start. He woke to a large pair of green eyes glowing at him, and it took a few seconds for his mind to recognize them as Dobby's. The house-elf looked eerily fey in the cold pre-dawn light. 

"Happy Christmas?" Harry said, sitting up.

Harry dug out a pair of socks for Dobby. Ron gave Dobby the socks and sweater his mother had knitted him, which made Harry upset. If his mother was alive he wouldn't give away presents from her. There was a time Harry had been grateful for any scrap of attention, a time where he'd never got a gift. Ron didn't seem to appreciate all that he had.

Dobby gave him a pair of handmade socks, one with brooms and the other with snitches. Harry put them on immediately.

The day passed slowly. Somehow Ron had got Parvati to go with him, and had done a poor job removing the lace from his dress robes. Why Ron didn't transfigure them into something better, or ask to borrow robes, Harry didn't know. He certainly wasn't going to offer.

Ron kept asking about Hermione, which Harry ignored and Parvati glowered at. Anyone who actually went into the library could figure out who her date was. He'd spent months lurking in there, after all.

"Champions over here, please!"

Harry walked over to the doors of the Great Hall, waiting to one side with the three champions and their dates. Hermione waved happily at him from Krum's side, while people looked at her in anger and disbelief. She didn't pay attention to any of it.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said. "Where is your date?"

"Meow."

Crookshanks walked down the staircase wearing a little bow tie. Like a gentleman, he jumped into Harry's arms and started to purr.

Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Crookshanks?" 

"Mr. Potter, this is highly unusual!"

Harry carried Crookshanks to the head table. The only person who didn't seem irritated or outraged was Dumbledore, but one could never tell with him. Crookshanks was swiftly installed at Harry's side, Percy at the other. Apparently not having noticed the cat, Percy went on to explain his growing responsibilities as Crouch was unwell and getting worse.

Dumbledore told his plate pork chops. Harry found fish on the menu for Crookshanks and ordered for both of them. They were getting a lot of stares, mutters about a cat being on the table, but Crookshanks was a cat and therefore above it all.

After dinner the floor was cleared. Harry soberly carried Crookshanks onto the dance floor and began a funereal waltz.

"Just the one dance, then we can run off."

"Meow."

Moody herded Professor Sinistra near Harry, his eyes looking through Harry's robes.

"Nice socks."

Crookshanks started hissing, and Moody quickly moved away.

"Thanks. If I toss you at him, think you can get the eye?"

"Meow!"

Harry let Crookshanks jump down when the song ended, and he made his own way off the dance floor. He snagged a bottle of butterbeer and wandered over to where Ron was glaring at Krum, and neglecting Parvati. Harry looked around for Neville, but he was dancing with Ginny and looked like he was having fun. Parvati was rescued by a boy from Beauxbatons and didn't look back. Harry waited to see what Ron would do. It only took Hermione sitting down to rest to set him off.

"You’re fraternizing with the enemy!”

“Don’t be so stupid!”

Harry watched them go at it, as they drew more and more attention. He thought about intervening, but Hermione had made so many concessions for Ron over the past few months. Where was the line?

Ron had driven Hermione off, Percy was networking, and Harry was ready to call it an evening, when Ron said, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Thinking he’d see what Crookshanks had got up to, Harry agreed and they went outside to a rose garden sparkling with fairy lights. It looked, for lack of a better term, magical.

Harry crossed his arms, wondering why he had to be here with Ron of all people. At least it wasn’t an entirely useless walk. They overheard Snape and Karkaroff say something had been getting darker for months, and Hagrid talking about his giant heritage with Madame Maxime. Harry turned, hearing leaves rustling, but didn’t see anything. He unfortunately discovered a new depth of magical racism with regards to giants. Harry wasn’t one to write off an entire group as violent. 

The ball wrapped up at midnight. They had just seen Hermione going up the stairs after parting with Krum, when Cedric Diggory called out to Harry. 

“Listen, I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know the golden egg?”

“I’ve already worked out the egg,” Harry said. “And you don’t owe me anything, everyone else knew about the dragons so it was only fair.”

“Since when have you worked out the egg?” Ron demanded.

“Since I got it,” Harry said. Having had far too much of Ron for the evening, Harry left him and Hermione arguing in the common room and went to talk to Sirius.

“They said something has been getting darker for months,” Harry said to the mirror. 

“The dark mark,” Sirius said. “They were both Death Eaters.”

“Really?” Harry asked. “You didn’t tell me Snape was. Is that what Dumbledore has over him?”

“Possibly,” Sirius said, frowning. “Definitely. I believe Dumbledore is the one who kept him out of Azkaban. Couldn’t have done that for me, could he?” he added bitterly. 

“Maybe I should transfer schools,” Harry said. “Theo would go to Durmstrang with me. I could learn a new language.”

“Karkaroff was a Death Eater too, remember,” Sirius said. “He did turn on them, gave a lot of names so he wouldn’t get charged.”

There was a muffled meow and Crookshanks jumped on Harry’s bed. There was something bright and green in his mouth.

“What’s this?”

Crookshanks walked over and dropped a bedraggled insect into Harry’s palm.

“Is that Crookshanks?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, leaning in. There were strange markings around the insect’s head, sort of like glasses. Harry curled his fingers over it instantly, and looked up at Crookshanks. Crookshanks stared back. Harry remembered how he’d been about Scabbers. 

“Sirius, I think Crookshanks found another animagus. Dobby!”

“Harry Potter!”

“I need a jar, one that won’t break. Please, it’s an emergency.”

A jar appeared on his bed and Harry dumped the insect into it. Crookshanks licked his paw. Harry held the jar up to the light.

“I wonder who you are?”