• 1-Gaze Beyond the Known
• 2-Rita Skeeter & The Leroches
• 3-Revelations & the First Task
• 4-The Yule Ball & the Second Task
• 5-The Chamber of Secrets & Sèraphin's Story
• 6-Truths and Lies Pt. 1
• 7-Truth & Lies Pt. 2

By the time November of Harry's fourth year arrived, he was fed up.

It came as no surprise that Ron, in his never ending jealousy, turned on him the second the Goblet spat out his name. Harsh glares and angry words were now the norm between the former best friends. But at least Ron acknowledged his existence, unlike Hermione. After a scathing lecture accusing him of purposely breaking the rules, the bushy haired girl refused to even look his way until he "confessed his crime".

Most of the professors believed in his guilt too, often pretending not to notice the way the other students spat cruel words at him daily. Every opportunity to hex and curse him while his back was turned was taken, the worst of it from Hufflepuff and those in his own House. Pitying glances from the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were thrown his way often but he pretends not to notice.

The Weasley twins believed in his innocence of course. The two devils took every opportunity to prank those who accused Harry of cheating but could only do so much against so many others. Still, Fred and George had gotten over half the school in a few short weeks, and planned to get all the accusers at least three times before the school year was over.Sirius believed him too, which came as no surprise, but for Harry his support was priceless. Honestly, Harry could murder someone but as long as he bat his pretty green and looked angelic, his godfather would believe he was innocent. Or least that's what the animagus told him.

Oddly enough, only the Slytherins did not go out of their way to humiliate him. Oh sure, they still turned their nose up at him, gave scathing remarks, and tried to sabotage his work but it was the norm. His "obvious bid for attention" never came up in Potions the way it did in his other classes. It confused Harry why Snape wouldn't join the rest of the school in degrading his character but he wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Harry couldn't understand why anyone would want to participate in the Tournament in the first place. What was the point in a competition where the death toll was in the triple digits? Eternal fame and glory? Money? He had enough fame to get rid of as it was and, an even if Dumbledore had never told him so, Harry knew that as the Potter heir, there was enough gold in his vaults than he could spend in this lifetime. More was not needed.

Speaking of Dumbledore, Harry found it suspicious the way the Headmaster insisted he compete. As far he knew, the old man didn't even review the rules for a loophole. Shouldn't there been a provision for those whose name was entered illegally? Or at least a vow or oath to prove he didn't purposely get an older student or staff member to do it for him? The entire situation was a bitter pill to swallow.

At least some good came out of being ostracized. Apparently there was plenty of intelligence under his mop of unruly hair, and without Ron's interference and Hermione's know-it-all attitude, the improvement in his grades was vast. Even Snape recently rewarded him points for a precisely executed potion. Granted the points came with an scathing insult while the dungeon bat almost choked on his own tongue but it happened! Harry would cherish that memory even in the afterlife.

Another was the opportunity to think back on all the events that'd occurred since he first arrived at Hogwarts and how much didn't add up. Like address of his Hogwarts acceptance letter. No one found it odd that an eleven child, the wizarding world's so called Savior, lived in a cupboard? And what about his glasses or his overly large clothes or the little he ate on a daily basis? It wasn't normal by a long shot. Or to send a half-giant with a pink umbrella of all people to pick him up? Hagrid was sweet, no doubt about it But to introduce an eleven years old to a whole new society of people like him? It was idiotic. And why would Mrs. Weasley, who was a pureblood even if she was considered a blood traitor, be on a Muggle platform yelling about platform 9 3/4? Didn't that defeat the purpose of the Secrecy Act?

Harry wondered often whose bright idea it was to put the fucking Sorcerer's Stone in school full of children, knowing a Dark Lord, the same one riding on a professor's head, wanted it. And how did none of the professors or Headmaster notice Voldemort under Quirrell's turban? It was obvious something had to be wrong for a Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor to repeatedly jump at his own shadow. With second year came Dobby, the disaster that was Lockhart (ugh), the Chamber of Secrets, crazy ass Tom Riddle using a diary to possess Ginny Weasley, and a basilisk in a school full of children (wtf dude?). Not to mention last year with his godfather escaping Azkaban. Scabbers was really Peter Pettigrew, the actual betrayer of his parents. Remus Lupin, the one adult who actually taught him how to defend himself, was a werewolf. And last but not least, bringing back a Tournament responsible for the death of so many students it was stopped for over a century!

The one thing Harry was certain of, he was done doing the Headmaster and professors job. All the incidents that'd come about thus far was the responsibility of the adults and yet a teenager did their job for them. They could all jump in the Black Lake and get choked by the Giant Squid as far as he was concerned. (Weirdly enough, he didn't feel that way about Snape. The dark haired man was a snarky, gloomy, douche without a doubt. He was also the only professor who tried to keep them out of trouble, with no help from his colleagues.)

The library had become a sort of safe haven. At least here he could count on Madam Pinch to shut down the bullying that went on throughout the rest of the school with a single look. As long as he was quiet and actually reading, the stern librarian left him to his own devices. So that's where Harry was now, hidden among a section of book rarely ventured by anyone but Madam Pinch and ghosts. With his homework complete, all his attention focused on the various books scattered across the top of the table he'd claimed as his own, searching for possibilities of the First Task.

The bare minimum was all he'd decided to do for the entire Tournament. He had no desire to risk his life in some stupid prideful contest for a school full of nothing but ingrates, especially when there was already a manic out for his blood. If his magic wasn't the price to pay, he would tell them all to get bent. He had so little to call his own as it was.

If he was honest with himself (which wasn't often but he was working on it), searching for probable tasks was also an attempt to ignore his own feelings. His chest ached with the disappointment and betrayal when he thought about his former best friends. Usually he only experienced that pain at the beginning of every summer, when forced back to the Dursley's house. But with Ron and Hermione's continued rejection, it to grow as the First Task draws closer. But Harry is nothing if not stubborn and the denial of his feelings is one area he has always excelled.

Absorbed in a passage about the Nian, a ferocious Chinese beast thought to be extinct, he jumps in surprise when a soft voice interrupts. "Dragons are interesting, don't you think?"

The voice comes from his right and Harry turns breathtaking Avada Kedavra orbs to equally magnificent ice blue. The hazy eyes seem to stare through him, but there's knowledge hidden there, one that screams ancient divinity. Harry only holds the gaze for a few moments before chills race up his spine and he tears his eyes away.

It was then he notices the unmistakable green of Slytherin on the other's robes. He instantly grew suspicious. Just because the other House hasn't been any crueler than before doesn't mean Harry can let his guard down. No snake has come within his vicinity let alone spoken to him without a hidden motive since first year.

The other person continues to watch him. He doesn't like feeling of those eyes on him. It makes him want to fidget and squirm and apologize for every secret he owns. He wants to get defensive, demand to know why they're there, but he forces himself not to. Too many of his problems stem from being impatient.

"Learning patience now will only benefit you in the long run. Sure, you could be rash like any other Gryffindor but we both know it's not your true home, correct?"

Harry flounders for a response but his mind has frozen in shock. Not even Ron and Hermione know he was supposed to be a Slytherin. He looks at the Slytherin again, not just at their robes this time, in an attempt to get a heads up on who he's dealing with.

Medium sized, golden brown braids were littered with a variety of beads and feathers and held back by a soft pink headband that showed off ears covered in a row of golden piercings. Another bar sat in the right slender brow under which pale baby blues are framed by thick dark lashes. A cute upturned nose, lush pink lips, and high cheekbones complete a perfectly proportioned heart shaped face.Their school robes were open enough that Harry can see a simple white button up blouse, a salmon knee-length skirt, and simple black pumps. (Or at least that's what Aunt Petunia called them.) He noticed the beginnings of an Adam's apple and that's when Harry realized he'd been staring at another boy. Both he and the other teenager share the same lithe frame and short stature but whether this is natural or from years of starvation and abuse like himself, Harry doesn't know.

After a few more seconds of trying to place the boy's face, he blinks in realization and then confusion. His first thought, Why is Rèmy Leroche speaking to me?, was immediately followed by, How can a boy be so pretty? It was easier to focus on the first.