Twisted Fascination

The school was filled with not only great tension, but also excitement. Lessons stopped halfway through the day, and then the school would migrate over to the Forbidden Forest, where the dragons were kept in their enclosures.

The Slytherins were obviously worried for me as they constantly shot me looks whenever we happened to interact during the first part of the day.

Harry looked downright ready to keel over and die, like he hadn't slept in days. Why he looked like that when I was the one that had to battle a dragon was beyond me.

In any case, I had a boring morning in Charms before heading off to lunch. I was sitting there, trying to eat my lunch in peace, when Snape came over with a blank expression that did nothing to hide the worry in his eyes.

He stood behind me and said, “Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now… You have to get ready for your first task.”

“Very well,” I said, easily abandoning my meal before I could even take a bite. I left the Great Hall with Snape, who led me down the stone stairs and around the edge of the Forbidden Forest until a large tent came into view.

Snape stopped outside of the tent, and he showed just a hint of apprehension on his face. “I know you keep a cool head in most situations, but you may just want to act impulsively for once.”

“I'll see what I can do,” I assured the man, who merely nodded grimly before heading off. I shrugged before heading into the tent.

Delacour was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Krum was surlier than usual, which was probably his way of showing his nerves. Diggory was pacing up and down the tent, and he merely made eye-contact with me before returning to his task at hand.

“Colton! Good-o!” Bagman chirped as if he wasn't about to watch four teenagers fight a bloody dragon on their own. “Come in! Come in! Make yourself at home!” He was wearing his old Wasp robes again, and he also appeared too foolhardy compared to everyone else. “Well, now we're all here – time to fill you in! When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag–” He held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at us vigorously. “–from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different – er – varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else, too… ah, yes… your task is to collect the golden egg!”

“You said we have to face a thing,” I said, earning a nod. “May we harm that thing to collect the golden egg?”

He snorted as if I said something amusing. “You can try, I suppose. Why?”

“The rules don't say anything about the tasks, so I'm asking for clarification beforehand,” I admitted.

He grunted in acknowledgement, but nothing more.

Within a few minutes’ time hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing by the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking… They were all eager to discover what would happen with us champions.

I felt a vague sense of disdain, not wanting to be fighting a dragon and instead working on my essays. I didn't even ask to be signed up, yet there I was, having to participate in a stupid tournament.

Bagman snapped me from my trance by opening the neck of the purple silk sack. “Ladies first,” he said, offering the sack to Delacour.

She put a shaking hand inside of the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon – a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck. By her look of determined resignation, it was fairly obvious that she had been told about the dragon by Madame Maxime.

The same was true for Krum, who pulled out a scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had the number three around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Diggory put his hand in and pulled out a blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one around its neck.

I knew that my dragon had to have a number four around its neck, and I pulled it out to reveal a Hungarian Horntail. It stretched its wings and bared its miniature fangs.

Oh, great, I thought as I stared at the most aggressive of the dragons.

“Well, there you are!” Bagman chirped, “You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the number refers to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first. Just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now… Colton… could I have a quick word? Outside?”

“I suppose,” I said rather reluctantly before dragging myself outside of the tent.

Bagman walked me a short distance away into the trees before turning around with an odd expression on his face. “Feeling alright, Colton? Anything I can get you?”

“No, I'm alright,” I said honestly.

“Got a plan?” He asked softly.

“No,” I admitted before lying, “I only just heard about the dragon, after all.”

“I don't mind sharing a few pointers–”

“I'll pass,” I interrupted with a sneer. “I don't particularly feel like standing on unequal footing against my foes.” I nodded once before turning heel and heading back to the tent. I then calmly sat down and messed around with the dragon figurine that refused to settle down.

Bagman was pouting like a child as he stepped into the tent again, only for a loud whistle to fill the air. “Good Lord, I've got to run!” He rushed off, and I silently thanked Salazar.

Diggory looked greener than ever as he stepped from the tent.

I sat back in my seat, merely teasing the figurine that was desperately trying to bite me with tiny fangs. I was amused for a few minutes, listening in as the crowd as they gave their unified commentary on it in the form of screams, shouting, and gasps.

Of course, above all that was the commentary from Bagman. “Ohhh, narrow miss there, very narrow,” he said one time. Another, he yelled, “He’s taking risks, this one!” Next, he announced casually, “Clever move – pity it didn't work!”

Krum kept his gaze pointed at the ground, seemingly going over everything he could think of.

Delacour, meanwhile, was looking downright ready to have a panic attack.

I held in a sigh as I pointed my wand at the figurine and froze it in place, no longer entertained by its growing rage.

After a boring fifteen minutes, there was a deafening roar from the crowd, followed by Bagman shouting, “Very good indeed! And now the marks from the judges!”

There was no commentary on the scores, meaning the judges presented them silently.

“One down, three to go!” Bagman announced as the whistle blew again. “Miss Delacour, if you please!”

Delacour was trembling from head to foot. Nevertheless, she held her head high and clutched her wand tightly as she left the tent behind.

I sighed as I sat back and closed my eyes.

Krum seemed content to stay silent for a moment, but only that. With no one watching, he strode over to me and stood next to me. “What's your plan?”

I hummed softly before admitting, “I'm making things up as I go along.”

“What?” He blurted out.

I opened my eyes and looked over to see his slack-jawed expression. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yes,” he said as if it should have been obvious.

“I would suggest scrapping the idea if you plan on blasting your dragon with spells,” I stated.

“I know dragon skin is thick, but–”

I grunted once as I turned my head away. “You mind as well ask the dragon to play nice.”

“You've fought with a dragon before?” Krum asked with a scowl that indicated that he thought I was full of shit.

“No,” I denied, “But I was mauled by a dog once.”

Immediately, Krum grimaced. “I – er – apologize.”

I waved it off dismissively. “It wasn't a Grim or anything, so I'm good.”

Krum nodded once in a jerky motion. He remained silent for a moment before asking, “What would you do?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” I said as I shook my index finger back and forth. “My plan doesn't fit your skills.”

Krum sighed heavily as he turned away. “I figured–”

“You're good on a broom and can take a beating,” I said as I closed my eyes and got comfortable once more. “Do something with that in mind.” I then waved him off as if he was a pesky fly.

Krum once again fell silent before standing. He walked to the other side of the tent, hard in thought about how he'd get past the dragon.

I merely spent the next ten minutes listening to Bagman and the crowd, who all seemed to think that this was a good time instead of possible murder via dragon all for the sake of entertainment.

Finally, Delacour got the golden egg and the judges did their scoring.

Krum approached, kicked my stool, and waited until I was glaring at him to say, “Good luck.” He didn't wait for a reply, instead walking out as the whistle blew once more.

I stared at his back for a moment before sighing heavily. I then stood up and put the miniature figurine onto the ground. I then walked to the other side of the tent and looked intensely at the simple model.

After a minute or so, Bagman shouted, “Is that a broom?! Dear Lord, look at Krum fly!”

I rolled my eyes at his words, thinking, You clearly didn't see him fly during the Quidditch World Cup if you're impressed by that meager amount of talent. I then turned my focus back to the figurine and stared once more. I tried thinking of last-minute spells that would help, but eventually decided to trust Snape’s judgment. I needed to be flexible if I was going to beat a dragon.

“That's some nerve he's showing!” Bagman yelled eagerly, “And – yes, he's got the egg!”

I smirked to myself as I straightened up. I then left headed for the entrance to the tent and waited for the whistle to blow. Once it did, I walked past the trees and through a gap in the enclosure fence.

Hundreds and hundreds of faces were staring down at me from the stands that had surrounded most of the enclosure.

On the other end of said enclosure was the Horntail. It was evidently a female dragon, as she hunched low over her eggs, making it obvious to me that I was in over my head. Her wings were half-furled, and her yellow eyes watching my every move as her spiked tail thrashed about and left hard-long gouges in the ground below.

I stared blankly, merely observing her for a moment. I stood calmly, taking in the very flat land and lack of secure hiding places when faced against the dragon.

The creature began to rumble as her eyes glared into my being.

I lowered my gaze to the dragon’s eggs and counted six of them plus a golden one hidden in the middle. I flicked my gaze around the enclosure one final time before beginning to walk on the outer edge, slowly approaching the dragon. I kept my wand pointed at the ground as I began to subtly transfigure the dirt and tree roots into something more firm and unyielding. I made it about a sixth of the way to the beast when her lips began to pull back into a deep scowl.

Her rumble grew in intensity, and it was fairly obvious that she officially saw me as a threat. Still, she never moved from her eggs as her wings unfurled. As she stretched her wings toward me, she took in a deep breath through her nostrils.

I quickly shot my right arm up, causing the landscape to change drastically.

The dragon’s prepared attack was momentarily delayed as she shifted with the rest of the terrain.

I quickly ducked under a large overhang of stone and began to formulate my next attack as the dragon roared loudly and blew fire at my hiding spot. I pressed my wand into the stone once more as I began to count softly under my breath. Once the fire stopped, I started over counting and swiftly moved to another barrier. I just barely ducked behind it in time, and I began to count, starting from the beginning. I waited another ten seconds before shooting off again. I repeated the process a few times, all while keeping my eyes on the mother dragon. Once I was about halfway across the enclosure, I pressed my back against the stone barrier and counted to ten. I then slipped around the barrier and flicked my wand in a circular motion.

The stone beneath the dragon quickly surged upwards, only to be harshly smacked and broken apart by the tail of the beast. The mother gave another loud roar at me before unfurling her wings hard enough to break almost all the stone barriers down by her sides.

I pressed my back against the same stone barrier I used, scowling a bit as I realized nothing would go as planned from that point on. I stared at the sky for a moment before begrudgingly deciding that I just needed to act in a way not even a dragon could figure out until it was too late. I needed to treat that beast like I did Bestla the Basilisk.

The dragon's flames stopped for a moment, allowing me the time needed to transfigure the ground around yet again. The dragon roared loudly as she realized that her tail was being grabbed by the stone. It was distracted for a second, but only a second.

Regardless, I stayed behind my rocky cover as another blast of fire came from the beast, shedding my cloak and hat. I then moved my wand again, transfiguring the two items into rubber ducks. I squeezed one before throwing it to my left.

The dragon turned its head mid-blast to scorch the rubber duck until it was no more. It then watched as I shot around my barrier while flicking my wand toward the ground once more. The beast inhaled once more, clearly ready to smite me as I threw the rubber duck at its head that time.

I watched as the dragon opened its mouth wide, and I snapped my wand toward the rubber duck. “Engorgio!”

The rubber duck swelled to the size of a great dane, and the dragon stopped her fire blowing in favor of snatching the duck from the air. The rubber duck was promptly bitted into shreds and spat out like mere rubbish, but it still served its function.

I flicked my wand at the shreds handing from the beast’s maw and transfigured that into fine white powder. I then snapped my wrist toward the beat while mouthing, “Bombarda.”

The beast released a deafening roar of anger as the explosion blinded me from its view. It snapped its tail around, and I just barely managed to throw myself back in time to save me from any grievous injury.

I, knowing I had a mere moment, quickly transfigured the landscape yet again. I ducked down and watched as the tail hit a thick wall of stone, shattering it in a million pieces. I was thankful that the tail was thrown off its original path, allowing me to come out mainly unscathed. I grabbed a small piece of the shattered rock and shot forward again, transfiguring the rock into a sword. I quickly bit the handle of my wand and swung my sword with everything I had.

The dragon gave an ear-piercing roar as my sword cut through its wing. It whipped its head around as the wing spasmed from pain.

I used my chance as I saw it, leaving the sword in the wing while I rushed toward the right.

The dragon ignored the pain for a moment and blew fire at me once more.

I slipped under the dragon’s own wing, allowing me to hide from its deadly blaze. I threw myself under its stomach before the tail could possibly reach me, and I literally rolled around until I got the egg from beneath her. I then spat out my wand and poked the dragon with the tip of it. “Petrificus Totalus.”

The dragon froze in place from the spell hitting it in a weaker area.

I could help but smirk as I crawled from under the dragon, pushing the egg along until I was in the sunlight yet again. I then stood up, flicked my hand to rid my robes of dirt, and picked up the egg. With that done, I flicked my wand at the sword, causing it to turn into a mere rock once more, which easily fell from the wound. I nodded once to myself just, and I just barely heard Bagman scream over the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

“Look at that! Will you look at that?! Our youngest champion is the only one to crawl under the dragon! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!” Bagman yelled as if he had been in charge of some gambling pool again.

I rolled my eyes to the heavens as the dragon handlers and Snape rushed toward. I approached Snape casually, the adrenaline in my body dying down at a snail’s pace.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?” Snape hissed as soon as he made it to me.

“You told me to act impulsively,” I pointed out, and the man looked like he was just about ready to have an aneurysm. I barely held in a sigh as he grabbed me by my shoulder and forcefully led me over to Madame Pomfrey.

The woman, fussy as ever, made me go through a whole check-up before begrudgingly allowing me to go get my scores because all my wounds were mere scrapes.

I stood before the judges and watched as Madame Maxime gave me a seven.

Crouch gave me an eight, which surprised me, especially considering I wasn't proper at all with my battle.

Dumbledore smiled brightly as he gave me a nine.

Of course, Bagman gave me a ten.

Then, Karkaroff raised his wand and gave me a score of five, which looked very begrudging on his part.

I barely kept my expression neutral, but I could hear the Slytherins hissing at booing Karkaroff. I was just happy to be done with it so I could study more. I turned heel and began to head back toward the school, only for Charlie Weasley to come running over.

“Did you have to hurt her?” He all but whined at me.

“What would you rather me do? Burn alive?” I asked incredulously.

Charlie immediately winced a bit. “Well, no, but you could have shown her a bit of mercy. She's a new mum and is really protective of her babies.”

I stared for just a moment before turning my head away. “How much does dittany cost for an injury like that?”

“Huh?” Charlie asked as he stared down at me dumbly.

I barely bit back a groan. “The dragon needs something to heal the wound, right? How much dittany would that be?”

“Erm – a lot,” Charlie said. “But why are you asking?”

“I will cover a portion of it since I injured the dragon–”

“Absolutely not,” Charlie protested at once. “You’re still going to Hogwarts–”

“I take care of my debts–”

“I don't want to hear it,” Charlie said as he flicked his wrist at me. “If you try anything, I'll add that to the letter I'm already writing to my mum.”

I barely held in a scowl as I thought of the woman who would dote on me for hours if she could. “Very well then.”

“Good,” he approved as he ruffled my ear, earning an indignant squawk from me. He then stopped outside of the champions’ tent and said, “Well, I'll leave you here. Be safe, okay?”

“I'll try,” I said because, in all reality, that's all I could do.

He gave me a nod of approval before heading off back to his other dragon tamer associates.

I stepped inside of the tent, and I picked up the small figurine I left behind. I pocketed the model, figuring I could give it to someone else to take care of. I then straightened up as I heard three sets of footfalls.

Delacour, Krum, and Diggory entered the tent, with Diggory having the side of his face covered in a thick orange paste.

Krum immediately abandoned the other two and approached me. “You are great at strategy.”

“I may be good, but not the best,” I denied as I flicked my wrist dismissively.

“I saw you fight the dragon,” Krum informed me, “You could change your strategy easily.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Flexibility is a must in any aspect of life. If you remain rigid all the time, you'll break under the pressure of the world.”

Before Krum could even open his mouth, Delacour asked me, “‘Ow old are you, again?”

“Fourteen,” I answered with a furrowed brow. “May I ask why you wish to know?”

“You are…” She trailed off for a moment before settling on the words, “Mature.”

“Thank you,” I replied politely, though I was thoroughly confused by her analysis of me.

“It iz not a compliment,” she said as she stared down at me with an odd look in her eyes. “Children should not be so…” She once again seemed at a loss for the proper words in English.

I frowned at her words, knowing that she felt like I was some kind of victim.

Cedric hesitated for a moment before starting, “Erm–”

Bagman practically bounced into the tent while yelling, “Well done, all of you!” He looked so pleased with us, like he had single-handedly trained us to get past the dragon. “Now, just a few quick words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth – but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at the golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open… See the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg – because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!”

I was more than eager to take my leave from the tent, and I got no more than a few steps when Skeeter came around the bend of the trees.

“Congratulations, Colton!” She exclaimed as she beamed at me, “I wonder if you could give me a quick word?”

“Me?” I asked as I pointed at myself. “Surely, I scored lower than the others. Why not interview them?”

“I always like writing about underdogs,” she said as she failed to even look at the other champions.

I stared for a mere moment before saying, “If you interview the others, too, then I will allow myself to be interviewed.”

“Excellent!” Skeeter exclaimed.

I nodded before saying, “I’ll be in the library whenever you're finished with the other three.” As Skeeter’s face fell, I merrily headed off on my way. I got about halfway up to the castle when I was hit with the Stinging Jinx. I bit back a pained noise as I snapped my head around.

Sirius was grinning like the damn mutt he was as he approached with Remus, who was rolling his eyes to the heavens. “Not a nice greeting, is it?” The man asked cheerfully.

“Oh, it's a greeting?” I asked as I straightened up. I didn't give Sirius the chance to backpedal, instead blinking once and hitting the man the Stinging Jinx.

The man released a loud string of profanities as he keeled over.

“Would you two behave?” Remus demanded through gritted teeth.

“He started it,” Sirius whined as he looked up at Remus as pathetically as he could.

“And I'm ending it,” the werewolf shot back.

I smirked for a mere second before straightening up. “Are you two even allowed on campus?”

“Not technically,” Sirius said with a shrug as he stood up properly.

I sighed heavily, figuring they were there to get back at me somehow. “I'm sorry that I didn't tell you–”

“That's not why we're here,” Remus interrupted, causing me to pause. “Come to the Hog’s Head Inn the next time you have a trip to Hogsmeade.”

I bit back a groan at the thought of missing my precious studies. Still, I knew it wasn't up for debate. “Very well.”

Remus nodded in approval. “Come on, Sirius.”

Sirius hesitated for a moment as he stared at me. “Just… Be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” I said with a furrowed brow.

The two gave forced smiles before heading off toward the startlingly close Whomping Willow.

I stared for a moment before shrugging and heading back to the castle, my egg still in my grasp. I tried to head up to the library, only for Pucey to approach me.

“Potter, don't you dare,” he hissed at me, causing me to look at him with faux innocence. “You're going back to the common room right now.”

I bit back a few choice words and instead dragged myself to the common room, where the majority of the Slytherins were waiting for me.

“Show us the egg!” Draco demanded eagerly.

“Before that,” Greengrass interjected, “Are you injured?”

“Just some scrapes and bruises,” I said dismissively before holding up the golden egg. “It opens, so prepare yourself.”

Everyone stared eagerly at the golden egg.

I carefully opened it, only to unleash an unholy screeching noise from the otherwise empty egg. I snapped it closed as quickly as I could, grimacing at the way my ears ached.

“What was that?” A younger Slytherin asked incredulously, “Someone being tortured?”

“A mermaid,” I corrected at once, “Those creatures sound like Cruciatus Curse victims above water.”

The first-year grimaced at the mention of the Unforgivable Curse.

I then looked down at my egg and mused, “Well, this has been helpful for the second task, but–”

“You aren't seriously going to the library, are you?” Parkinson asked with a blanched expression.

“I have an interview with Skeeter,” I said, “I refuse to miss it.”

“You don't even like Skeeter,” Davis pointed out.

“Be that as it is, I don't want her to interview someone else about me,” I said with a sneer. “Could you imagine if she interviewed my brother?”

“What's the worst he'll say?” Nott asked with a raised brow, “You went easy on the dragon?”

“Yes,” I agreed, and everyone paused. I sighed softly before straightening up. “Look, I'm not saying that I killed a dragon before, but I did kill a beast with a sword.”

“You what?” Warrington asked as he stared at me with wide eyes.

“The point is that if she happens across a Gryffindor that knows about me, I'll be screwed,” I stated.

“How screwed?” Higgs inquired.

“I may just end up in Azkaban,” I grumbled.

“For what?” Pucey asked, looking at me like I had just said nothing but pure bullshit.

“I will not tell you for the sake of plausible deniability,” I said curtly.

“Merlin’s balls, Potter,” Warrington groaned, looking like most of the older Slytherins in the room. “You didn't kill someone, did you?”

“Of course not,” I snapped, “That would be an automatic Dementor’s Kiss.”

“Then what–”

“If you truly insist on knowing, I nearly killed one of my muggle guardians,” I interrupted impatiently.

The entire common room fell silent as they all stared at me.

“You weren't expelled,” Pucey finally said as he eyed me suspiciously. “I'm assuming you didn't use your wand.”

“Don’t make yourself a part of this,” I warned before placing the heavy golden egg into the table nearest me. “Now, if you'll excuse me–”

“Potter,” Higgs said seriously, causing me to look at him, “We won't tell anyone. Slytherins don't turn their backs on other Slytherins without a damn-good reason.”

I stared for a moment longer, catching everyone hesitantly agreeing in the peripherals of my vision. I closed my eyes before nodding to myself. “Alright.” I opened my eyes and turned on my heels. “I'll be back soon, and then I'll celebrate my victory with everyone if you truly insist on it.” With that, I left the common room behind.

The silent halls greeted me, everyone eager to discuss what happened in their common rooms.

I walked up to the library and sat down with a book on magical theory. I flipped through the book before landing on a chapter about wand movements and their use in spellwork. I had read over the book in my first year, but I figured that going over it wouldn't hurt me any. It took half an hour of review before I got bored. I returned the book to where I had first retrieved it.

It was then that Skeeter strutted around the corner and brightened up. “Oh, there you are, Colton, dear.” She immediately hooked her arm around my shoulders and led me away to a secluded corner of the library, ignoring how uncomfortable I was with her doing so. She finally sat me down at a table and had the gall to sit down right next to me.

“We were interrupted last time,” Skeeter said with the eagerness of Dudley on Christmas morning.

“So we were,” I agreed as I eyed her cautiously.

She quickly set up her quill and parchment before saying, “Last time, I couldn't help but notice that you seemed familiar with making such a risky move.”

“Risky?” I asked as I sat back in my seat so I could cross my arms over my chest. “You make it sound like I am some foolhardy Gryffindor.”

“You certainly were bold,” Skeeter said, clearly poking for some kind of riled reaction.

“Are you not?” I retorted with a raised brow.

She looked at me with a sharp glare.

“Believe it or not, Slytherins are bold, too. They have to be if they'll get anywhere with their great ambitions,” I said as if talking down to a mere child.

She glared for a moment longer before her expression eased up. “Yes, you're definitely bold. I don't know your aspirations, though.”

“I want to live,” I said, “It's as simple as that.”

The woman’s brow furrowed deeply. “What does that mean?”

I sighed heavily at her words. “I told you last time that the Dark Lord is still alive. What do you think that means?”

Skeeter remained silent for a moment before asking slowly, “You think you'll be targeted by You-Know-Who?”

“I am the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived,” I pointed out.

She hesitated for a second before saying, “If you can best a dragon–”

“A beast does not have reason,” I chided, “A beast does not think about killing for personal gain, only to protect and live. Only humans can do that, and it is that sense of reason that will doom me to death.”

Skeeter frowned deeply. “You don't think the Dark Lord will harm you, you know it.”

I stared blankly ahead of me as I answered, “Yes, I suppose I do.”

Confusion was evident in her tone as she began, “What could you have possibly done–”

“I was part of a prophecy,” I said honestly, looking back at her with a more serious expression. “You must realize that Harry isn't just the Boy-Who-Lived, and I'm not just his helpless brother who just so happened to be there that night. We're a pair of twins that will destroy the Dark Lord.”

“There's – there's a prophecy?” Skeeter asked in a surprised sort of tone.

“There was,” I confirmed before saying, “May Lady Magic strip me of my magic if there isn't one that damned one of us to die and the other to surpass the Dark Lord.” I watched as a brilliant white light came from my head. Without really putting much mind to it, I summoned a book from the nearby shelf and had it float over to us.

Skeeter just stared at me with a dumbstruck expression for a long while, her mind processing the implications of that before she suddenly inhaled sharply. “You think Dumbledore knows.”

“I know that he knows,” I said as I dismissed the book back to its spot with a flick of my wrist. “I know the Dark Lord knows about the prophecy, too. I don't think that I need to expressly tell you my place in that prophecy.”

She was confused for a second, but only a second. Then, she stared at me with wide eyes. “You want to live because you're destined to die.”

“Before anything else, I'm a human,” I said, “I want to live to at least reach adulthood, but I don't know if that's possible now that I've been entered in this tournament against my will.”

Skeeter opened her mouth to reply, but she seemed to quickly realize she couldn't say anything that would reassure me. She closed her mouth before asking, “Have you tried to go to the Hall of Prophecies?”

“I'm typically stuck with muggles over the summer,” I pointed out, “They despise magic, and they surely wouldn't go to our ministry just so I could check out a prophecy.”

“Why haven't you asked one of the Weasleys?” She pressed.

“And ask what?” I asked as I narrowed my eyes. “Could you illegally bring me into the Ministry of Magic so that I could possibly see if I can smuggle out a prophecy that I already know deems my life as expendable?”

Skeeter winced at my harsh words and even worse tone. “Well, no–”

“I'm damned if I go and damned if I don't,” I stated.

Silence fell between us for a long moment, and even her quill seemed hesitant to write.

Finally, I sighed before standing. “I never wanted to enter this tournament. I just wanted to live a normal life with just a brief glimpse at happiness. It appears that such a thing was too much to ask for, though.” I then turned and left her behind, not wanting to speak with her any longer.

§You realize that the prophecy doesn't actually specify who the one who surpasses me is, don't you?§ The Dark Lord in my mind asked.

I held in scoff. §Of course I do. Regardless of that, you only heard half of the prophecy from Snape, and I doubt that the most important information was in that that part.§

The Dark Lord remained silent after that.

I rubbed my temples before deciding I'd need to tell Harry what I told Skeeter before he could read the newspaper. I trailed down to the Great Hall and simply waited there until he entered with his two friends in tow. I reluctantly headed over to him, not wanting to deal with the following confrontation.

Harry seemed to lose all of his jovial attitude as he saw my face. His smile died, and then his eyes displayed concern. His face twisted into one of anticipation as he mumbled, “I'll talk with you two later.” Without any prompting from me, he followed me from the Great Hall and to an abandoned classroom.

“Harry, sit down,” I demanded as I motioned to a desk, causing him to follow my orders. I sat on the other side of the desk, looking at him with a deep frown. “I want to start with an apology. I should have told you the following last year when I found out, but I didn't because I was selfish. I truly am sorry, but I was…” I hesitated for a moment before saying, “I was afraid that you would lash out at me.”

“For what?” Harry asked.

“You take Divinations, so you've surely been taught about the importance of a genuine prophecy,” I said, causing him to nod once. “Do you know why our parents were attacked?”

“Because Pettigrew sold them out,” Harry said.

“Why was the Dark Lord looking for our parents in the first place?” I pressed, and he stared blankly. “There was a prophecy made, and our parents were trying to delay that thing with everything they could think of.”

“What – what was the prophecy?” Harry asked shakily, already seeming to fear the worst.

“I only know part of it,” I said honestly, “But the gist of it is that you will surpass the Dark Lord, and I'll die.”

“What?” My brother asked as if the breath had just been knocked from his lungs.

“You’re going to defeat the Dark Lord, Harry,” I reiterated.

“No, I mean – you're going to die?” Harry clarified shakily.

“I don't know when,” I said as gently as possible, “But I do know that it'll likely be before you surpass the Dark Lord.”

“But–”

“Harry, I know that you're upset–”

“Of course I'm upset!” The boy shouted at me as he abruptly stood up. “Why didn't you tell me?!”

“For this reason,” I said as I motioned to him.

“You – you could die, and it's like you don't even care!” He yelled.

“Harry, settle down–”

“No! I won't settle down!” He continued as he quite literally picked up his chair and threw it to the side of the classroom, breaking the old wooden furniture. “You should have told me that you would leave me! What am I supposed to do to defeat Voldemort anyway?! You're the smart one!”

“You're the Boy-Who-Lived,” I said as calmly as I could manage.

“I didn't ask to be!” He announced loudly. “Why can't you just be the Boy-Who-Lived?!”

“Harry, you know that it's impossible to change the past,” I pointed out. “You can't stop the future, either–”

“You could at least try!” Harry shouted loudly.

“And what?!” I finally yelled as I stood up, knocking my chair over, “Live another fucking day at the expense of another human?! Do you think I'm that selfish!”

“You've always been selfish!” Harry snapped.

I recoiled from him, not believing that he had just said those words to me.

Immediately, Harry seemed to realize what he blurted out in his rage and tried backpedaling.

Before he could start apologizing, I said coldly, “I've done everything for you. I tried getting all of the attention on me to protect you, even after you called me rubbish for trying to do so. Do you think that I liked being beaten by the Dursleys? Do you think I liked trying to fit in with the adults so that you could remain a blissfully ignorant child? Do you honestly think that I'd, even for a second, think that I should let you take the beating when it's my job as an older brother to protect you?”

Harry remained silent, though he looked like he thoroughly regretted his way of thinking.

I took in a shaky breath before deciding to leave. I averted my eyes from the boy who I called a twin as I left the room quietly. I decided to forgo dinner, instead heading down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to stand. I stared blankly for a while, my mind still fixating on how Harry had seemingly never gotten over his hatred for me. I recalled when he shoved me as a child, how he called me rubbish and said that he hated me. I felt my emotions swell up inside of me the more I stood there.

Snow began to fall at a frightful rate.

I refused to move, not until my legs trembled. I knelt down in the snow as tears pricked at my eyes. Both sorrow and rage battled for control as my thoughts raced. I genuinely did everything to try and give my brother the space he wanted while simultaneously protecting him. I lowered my head as my tears spilled over, wiping at them furiously with my sleeves. I was crying so pathetically out in a bloody blizzard, and to what end?

No one was there to comfort me. No one would come find me, either, because it just wasn't what they wanted to do.

Who was some Dark Lord in the making compared to the Boy-Who-Lived?

Who was I, some slimy Slytherin, compared to Golden Boy Harry?

I grabbed my hair as I sobbed quietly. I quietly cursed myself for being such a child. I couldn't help my emotions though, not when I had tried to keep them at bay for so long. I remained there for a long time before I finally realized just how cold I was. I was also feeling exhausted from allowing my mind and emotions to rebel from the control I usually had over them. I sighed heavily as I stood up, my legs shaking under my weight. I turned around, and I saw a sea of white and black. I knew I was way past curfew, yet I found myself not caring about the rules for the moment. I staggered through the snow before eventually reaching the castle.

The doors opened just a crack before I could push them open.

Moody was there, his eyes staring down at me as if he had expected my presence. “Follow me, Potter.”

I begrudgingly dragged myself after him.

“You caused quite an uproar in the castle,” he said as if talking about the weather. “Severus was just about pacing the entire castle trying to find you.”

I didn't acknowledge his words, instead struggling on the mere task of walking up the stairs while also processing his words.

“You must have been out there for hours,” he said before asking, “Can you even feel your fingers?”

“No,” I admitted quietly.

He grunted before stopping at a landing. “I figured.”

I stopped with him, looking at him dully.

“Your brother was pretty worried,” Moody said.

I merely blinked once, not particularly caring at that moment what he felt like.

Moody scratched his chin before musing aloud, “Your parents would be disappointed in you for fighting.”

I scoffed. “As if they'd feel any other way about me.”

Moody stared down at me for a long moment before merely continuing on his path.

I followed after him, my body slowly warming up as I tried desperately not to take a break. I knew if I stopped that I'd be done for, so I merely stared at his feet and walked until he stopped. I paused behind him before eventually lifting up my head. My brow immediately furrowed as I saw the doors to the hospital wing.

“Come on, Potter,” he said as he opened the door.

I hesitated for a moment before dragging myself inside.

“Go sit on that bed. Try to stay awake while I get Poppy,” he demanded.

I did as ordered, sitting on a bed that was far too comfortable. I fought to keep my eyes open, and I managed to do so as footsteps quickly came to me. I looked up at Madame Pomfrey, who held a large beaker of Pepper-Up Potion and a frightened expression. I needed help getting the potion in me, but once I did, I began to feel better almost instantly. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them again, I was alone in the dark. I blinked a few times before registering that I was warm and comfortable. With that in mind, I decided that getting more sleep couldn't possibly hurt.