Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Breaking Habits	By : TheIndigoRaven Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 36128 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the related characters, and I make no money from this work of fiction. This is purely written for enjoyment, and not monetary compensation.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter! Unfortunately, I am not she, and don't make the big bucks. Nor do I make any money from this fic – it's written solely for my amusement, and yours.

A/N: This is a Harry Potter/Susan Bones/Padma Patil story. Don’t like polyamory, don’t read.

Thank you all for the great reviews from last chapter. This one will finish up the rest of the ride to Hogwarts, and the events of the Welcoming Feast, as well as Harry’s first steps to changing the way he lives, and his future. There are a few places that borrow from this chapter in GoF (a few bits of Dumbledore’s dialogue, and Peeves’ dialogue), but most of it is similar or changed with my own twists, and a number of significant differences. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: The Triwizard Tournament

“So, Harry,” Susan said, tucking a lock of her long red hair – a rich dark red, much more pleasing to the eye than the shocking and gaudy red-orange of the Weasley Family – behind her ear, “What sort of mischief are you planning to get into this year?”

Harry choked out a laugh. “Well, I guess it’s sort of a tradition, isn’t it? I will have to think of something. Though I was thinking of talking to Fred and George about a prank war on Slytherin.” He grinned at Daphne. “Or at least Malfoy and his minions.”

She glared. “You’d better keep it to them– last time it took half a month after one of their pranks on Slytherin to change my hair from green back to blonde. Besides, it wouldn’t look very good, pranking one of your Allies, now would it?” She asked, her lips twitching in a suppressed grin.

“I figured I’d tell them what you threatened Malfoy with,” Harry said. “I think you’ll be safe – no bloke wants his bits hexed off.”

Then he shrugged. “I’m going to be busy this year, though, so hopefully I won’t have much time to get dragged into too much trouble. Aside from what I found out from you all about my Family, I was planning to talk to Professor McGonagall. I’d like to drop Divination, and take up Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.”

Padma beamed at him. “Really? That’s great! I think you’ll enjoy them. Parv might like Divination, but it’s really only a helpful class if you’ve got The Sight,” she said, and then a mock pout appeared on her lips. “You won’t be in my class, though.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah. I was just being lazy, and followed Ron into it, and now I’m regretting it. I talked to Bill Weasley about how to change classes, and I guess I’ll be able to end up in your class by next year though, if I study hard enough on Fourth Year stuff over the summer and pass the placement exams. That’s if Professor McGonagall and Professors Babbling and Vector let me switch.”

“Are you kidding, Harry?” Padma asked. “I can’t see McGonagall turning down one of her own lions on the chance to improve their academics. And I don’t know about Professor Vector, but Professor Babbling seemed disappointed that you didn’t take Ancient Runes. She never said it outright, but she mentioned you a few times about how she had hoped you’d take her class.”

“We might have the same class-time,” Astoria said softly, causing him to look over at her. She blushed. “I’m starting Third Year, and I’m taking both of those classes, so we’ll probably be paired with Gryffindor for at least one of them.”

“Well, I guess I’ve found my study partner,” Harry said, smiling at the younger girl.

Padma leaned across the compartment and ruffled Astoria’s dark tresses affectionately. “If either of you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask. I love Ancient Runes, and I know Susan and Daph are good at Arithmancy; and I’m sure Hermione would be glad to help, especially if it’s a change from how Ronald tries to get her to do his homework for him.”

Harry looked away guiltily – while he had never been quite as bad as Ron often was, at least getting his work mostly done for her to check over, he had still never pressured Ron to stop trying to use Hermione in that way even though he could have.

Susan bumped her elbow against his. “What made you decide to change classes? I mean, I’m not complaining, it’ll be nice to have someone who knows something to talk to – not that you’re stupid or anything, just, you don’t know anything about… I’ll just shut up now,” she said, blushing brightly.

Harry chuckled, thankful for the interruption given the path his thoughts had been taking. He had found that quite often Susan let her mouth run away on her and she would end up rambling until either she realized it herself or someone stopped her. “Aside from being tired of Trelawney predicting my death each class, and having to come up with new ways for me and Ron to die for our homework?” He asked, a ghost of a grin appearing on his lips. “I just… I realized that I want to do something with my life, and Divination isn’t going to help me with that.”

“Well, give my thanks to whoever inspired you over the summer,” Padma said quietly. “I like the look of this new, fired-up Harry.” She smiled leaned slightly to the right so her cheek rested against his shoulder.

“So I take it with all this work you’re not going to be entering the Tournament?” Susan interjected. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Tournament?” Harry asked, echoed by the others.

Susan brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. “Oh, I, figured you’d know about it. Your parents being in the Wizengamot and all, so I thought they would have told you guys because of where it’s going to be.” she said glancing at Padma and Daphne, “and I heard you were in the Minister’s Box at the World Cup, Harry, so I assumed he hadn’t been able to resist bragging about it. I overheard Auntie talking about it on the Floo.”

“The Triwizard Tournament?” Padma asked, her eyes narrowed slightly. “Mum mentioned an event, and I did some looking at past events and that was one of the things I thought it might be.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“It’s a big competition, the three major European Wizarding schools all get together and hold the Tournament to compete with one another. They choose a student from each school and they go through different tasks and are scored for how they do. The winner gets their school the Triwizard Cup.” Padma said, and frowned. “They haven’t had it since the late 1700s, it was getting too dangerous – in the last Tournament a cockatrice escaped and almost killed the judges, and there were deaths of students in other years. I hope they’re going to tone things down a bit, so it’s safer.”

“Well, I’m definitely not entering,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough danger the last three years here, I’m not going to sign up to risk my neck willingly when I don’t need to.”

Susan giggled. “With your luck, Harry, and your fame, I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to choose you as the student to represent us.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but admitted she had a point. “Probably. But if they do, I’m refusing.”

Padma patted him on the arm. “Well, from what I remember you have to enter your name into something and it chooses one student from each, so as long as you don’t put your name in…”

Harry nodded. “Well, that’s good news at least.”

The warning whistle suddenly echoed loudly through the train, though oddly muffled by the runic array, they could only hear it from the outside window. It was the warning to students to get dressed in their school robes, and that they were fifteen minutes from Hogsmeade Station.

Harry stood up, a bit surprised at how quickly time had passed. “I’ll let you all get dressed, my robes are back in my compartment.”

“Alright Harry, see you when you get off,” Susan said, and then clapped a hand over her mouth, blushing. “Wow, that sounded dirty. Off the train, I mean.”

Daphne shook her head, grinning. “It was nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Bye, Harry, I hope we’re in the same class,” Astoria said.

Harry paused, and then glanced back. “Hey, let’s meet up at the carriages and ride up together.”

Padma glanced hesitantly at Daphne, but nodded. “Okay, Harry, we’ll look for you down there.”

*******************************

          “Harry!” Hermione exclaimed as he entered their carriage. “I was getting worried, you were gone for hours.”

          He smiled. “Sorry, I ran into Padma, and she brought me to her compartment for awhile, and I lost track of time talking with her and Susan... and a few other friends of theirs.” He said, seeing Ron and realizing why Padma had hesitated to agree.

          Ron was still sulking and glowering about the encounter with Malfoy, it appeared, which didn’t bode well for how he might react when he would see Daphne.

          Hermione smiled, though, glad that the boy who had long ago become her best friend had been opening up over the last year or so, and making friends outside of their close-knit group. “Well, that’s good. As long as you didn’t get into any trouble. I was worried Malfoy did something.”

          Harry shook his head. “No, I kept my promise, absolutely no hexing of Malfoy,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

          Hermione narrowed her eyes at the way he had phrased his answer, but before she could speak again, Ron spoke up.

          “Mate, do you know how boring it was here while you were gone? How did you manage to stay around a bunch of girls talking about girl-stuff for that long? You should have just come back.”

          Harry shrugged, and spoke quickly, seeing an imminent eruption of Mount Hermione at Ron’s dual-insult, both of being bored sitting with her, and his description of the fairer sex and their “girl-stuff”.

          “Well Ron, you were in your own world grumbling about Malfoy so I decided to spend some time with some other friends.”

          “Friends?” Ron laughed. “Good one, Harry. They’re girls, mate”

          Harry rolled his eyes and went over to his trunk to pull out his robes. “I wasn’t joking, Ron. Brilliant observational skills there figuring out they’re girls.” Hermione had to smother a laugh with her hand at that. “They’re my friends – in fact I invited them to ride with us in the carriage up to Hogwarts,” he said as he pulled his robes on over his clothes, and the train jerked to a stop.

          Ron sighed in exasperation, and grabbed his trunk. “Fine, but I think you’re losing it, mate. Really, spending your time with a bunch of girls instead of your best mate. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re a poofter,” he said as he left the compartment.

          Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s arm. “Don’t listen to the boy who apparently thinks I’m either not a friend or not a girl,” she muttered. “I’m glad you’re making more friends.”

          He smiled at her, and then glanced back at Neville. “You comin’ Nev? There should still be room for all of us, even if we have to squeeze in a bit.”

          Neville looked up at him, as if surprised at the offer. “S-sure, thanks.”

          They reached the compartment door where Ron was waiting, and then made their way out into the near-pitch-dark. Thunder crackled overhead, and the rain that had already been falling intensified until it felt as if it was coming down in ice-cold buckets of water.

          Hermione bundled Crookshanks up in her cloak, and Ron had thrown a robe over Pigwidgeon. Harry was glad he had let Hedwig fly on her own from the Weasleys' place – she’d know how to avoid the worst of the weather and get to the castle in her own time.

          They bent against the deluge, eyes squinted nearly shut as they ran toward the carriages. At the far end of the platform, they could make out a gigantic silhouette, and Harry yelled out a greeting. “Hi, Hagrid!”

          “Alrigh’ Harry?” the large groundskeeper bellowed back. “See yeh at the feast if we don’ drown!”

          “Oooh, I wouldn’t fancy crossing the lake in this weather,” Hermione said, referring to the boats that every first year took across the lake for their first time to the castle.

          They dropped their trunks off at the edge of the platform where they would be brought up for them and left in their rooms by the time the Feast was finished. They met up with the rest of the students in the dark, and inched their way with the crowd toward the carriages that waited to take them up to the castle.

          Through the downpour, Harry was able to make out the light of one of the few lanterns still lit glinting off of Susan’s red hair, which was whipping around her face as she tried to shield herself from the wind and rain with her hands. He could see several other figures next to her as they walked up and stopped at a carriage.

          “C’mon,” Harry said over the sound of the storm, waving behind him at Ron, Hermione, and Neville. “This way!”

          By the time they reached the carriage, Susan and the others were already inside, and Harry had to pull the door open, fighting the wind that tried to rip it from his hands.

          Hermione was the first to go in as he held the door in place, and she clambered up, stopping briefly at the top stair in surprise at the sight of Daphne and her sister, but then moved in to sit down next to them.

Ron followed, but his reaction was much different, and left Harry feeling embarrassed. Ron froze at the sight of one of the people in the compartment wearing Slytherin colors – her sister close by – and then took a step back, out of the carriage and nearly fell. “Bloody hell, Harry, you were spending the trip with these Snakes? No way am I riding in a carriage with them.”

“Come on, Ron, Daphne’s not like Malfoy. Just get in.” Harry said, gritting his teeth.

Ron climbed back down the steps of the carriage, and crossed his arms. “No. Kick her out, or I’ll find another carriage.”

Harry glanced back up into the carriage, and saw Astoria looking frightened at his outburst, and Daphne’s resigned expression as she seemed ready to get up.

“Fine. Go on in, Neville, Ron’s getting his own ride.”

Neville looked nervously between Ron, who was now glaring at Harry, and Harry, who was pointedly ignoring him, and then climbed in, sliding in next to Hermione.

Harry climbed up, the door still in his grasp. “Last chance, Ron,” he called, but the red-haired boy was already marching off, mutters of “what kind of bloke abandons his best mate for a filthy Slytherin” caught in the wind. He slammed the door shut, and turned around to find Padma and Susan had slid apart so the only place for him to sit was between them.

He sat down, and both girls scooted closer to him until they were pressed up against him. Padma grabbed his arm, her teeth chattering. “I hate this weather,” she muttered, trying to steal his body warmth as much as she could.

“Thank you, Harry,” Daphne said, and he glanced across.

“He’s got to learn sometime,” Harry said sadly.

          “Oh,” he glanced over at Hermione and Neville as the carriage rocked into motion. “Daphne and Astoria, these are Hermione and Neville, two of my best friends.”

          Astoria smiled shyly at Hermione who sat next to her whilst her sister inclined her head toward the two. Neville seemed to sit up straighter at Harry’s words.

          “We know each other,” Daphne said. “Hermione and I were partnered on a Runes project last year, and Neville and his Grandmother come to all of the Ministry Galas.”

          Neville nodded. “Gran talked to your father the other week, too,” his voice more confident than Harry had heard from him.

It was as Harry had come to expect: Neville just needed some boosts of confidence and he could eventually overcome his shyness and insecurities.

The rest of the trip up to the castle was rather pleasant, especially with a lack of rude or off-color comments from a certain Weasley. And especially so for Harry who spent the trip sandwiched between two of the prettiest girls in the school. He had started truly noticing girls the previous year, especially Cho, but he certainly wasn’t blind to the growing beauty of the girls he had befriended. Even Hermione was growing to be quite pretty, as weird as it was to think of her like that, given he considered her sort of an honorary little sister (even though she was older than he was!).

Padma and Susan, though, had become good friends of his, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of their recent move toward being more… tactile… in their friendships with him, grabbing his hands as they walked through the castle halls, leaning against him… Even holding onto his arm like Padma was now, which inevitably led to it being pressed up against her chest and certain body parts there that left him with a near-constant blush that he was thankful the dim light of the carriage hid.

He certainly wasn’t completely clueless – he understood that they seemed to like him, and flirt with him, but didn’t really understand the lack of any sort of rivalry between the two. He had seen quite a few fights between older boys in the Houses over a girl, and even one or two between girls over a boy, so their behavior was confusing to him… but it had certainly helped take his mind off of Cho Chang, whom he doubted he would ever have a real chance with.

*******************************************

As the carriages swept through the gates, and up the drive toward the castle, the wind, which had previously been strong, seemed to pick up to almost a gale. Looking out the windows of the carriage, they could see the outline of the massive castle Hogwarts illuminated by lightning flashes, a number of its windows visible by the lights behind them.

The seven of them jumped down from the carriage, and rand for the large wooden doors of the castle along with everyone else. As fate would have it, they could see Ron several people ahead of them as they entered the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall. Suddenly Ron gave out a yell as a large, red, water-filled balloon dropped onto his head and exploded.

People around them began to shriek as more balloons hit the ground and the students. Harry took several steps back, the others behind him doing the same, and they saw Peeves the Poltergeist hovering twenty feet above, tossing water balloons.

“PEEVES!” Harry looked at the source of the yell, and saw Professor McGonagall dash from the Great Hall. “Peeves, come down here at ONCE!”

Peeves refused, and kept lobbing the balloons, one at several older girls who screamed and dove for the Great Hall.

Harry stepped to the left and took the brunt of another balloon, which had been aimed at Padma, to the chest. He gasped at the icy-cold water that soaked him even further, dripping down into his socks.

Professor McGonagall saw that, and took out her wand. “Peeves, I shall call the headmaster. Dinnae think I ye weren’t warned!” She shouted, a bit of her Scottish brogue slipping into her voice as it often did when she was truly angry.

Peeves merely tossed a final balloon behind them at a group that had just entered the entrance hall, turned around and pulled his pants down to moon McGonagall, and then zoomed off up the staircase as he cackled the entire way.

McGonagall sighed, and turned to Harry, waving her wand at his cold and dripping clothes, and in moments he was much drier. “Thank you Mister Potter, perhaps chivalry is not dead after all. Go on, into the Great Hall with you all,” she said, making a shoeing gesture at everyone.

As they entered the doors of the Great Hall, Padma moved up beside him and grabbed his arm again. “It seems you make a very effective shield. I may just have to keep you around,” she said cheekily.

“That was bloody cold,” Harry said, still feeling the effects of it despite being dried off.

Padma grinned. “Well, thank you for sparing me the experience. I had better head over to my table,” she said, and kissed him on the left cheek before gliding across the hall, greeting several of her classmates as she found an open seat.

“I’ve got to go find Hannah. Let me know how your little talk goes,” Susan said before kissing his other cheek and striding off to where Hannah was sitting at the Hufflepuff table.

Fortunately for him the Hall was crowded, with children greeting one another and waiting excitedly for the Feast to start, and only a few saw him standing stock-still, a silly grin on his face.

Daphne stepped up next to him, breaking him from his trance, and he glanced over at her, her sister giggling next to her. “If you’re expecting one from me, you can dream on, Potter,” she said, smirking. “Keep those twins under control, and I’ll send off that letter tomorrow.”

Hermione grabbed his arm as Daphne and her sister walked to their tables, and pulled him toward the Gryffindor table. Neville followed closely behind, and they ended up sitting at the end of the table – Ron saw them and went to sit over by Dean and Seamus.

“What was Daphne talking about?” Hermione asked, as the staff began to sit down at the head Table.

Harry frowned. “I guess her mum was friends with mine. She’s been sending me letters, but apparently I have some sort of Owl Post block targeting me, which is intercepting most of my post. Susan and Padma are going to see if they can find out who set the block, and Daphne’s going to have her mum send letters through her – it’d be nice to learn more about my mum.”

Hermione’s gaze softened, and she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “Who would have set that block up? That doesn’t sound very legal.”

“I guess it’s not. We could only really think of Dumbledore having the pull to do something like that.”

Hermione frowned, her brow creasing. “Well, it just doesn’t seem like something he’d do….”

Harry snorted, and leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I wouldn’t be too sure. Daphne started talking about restarting this Alliance thing. Apparently a bunch of our families were allied on the Wizengamot, and they want to start things up again. I didn’t even know I had a seat on the Wizengamot.”

Neville, who’d been listening, finally spoke up. “You do, or at least you will. My family was part of the Alliance, I think that’s what Gran and Lord Greengrass were discussing the other week.” He looked at Harry, a puzzled expression crossing his face. “Didn’t anyone teach you anything about your family, or politics?”

Harry shook his head. “Apparently that was up to my magical guardian. And since he placed me with the Dursleys, I think that’s Dumbledore.” He glanced over at Hermione. “That’s why I think it might be him that did the Post block.”

Hermione looked shocked, and rather angry at the idea of someone withholding such information from someone they were supposed to give it to – it was nearly as bad as destroying a book in front of someone before they could read it. “Well, I’ll get to the library and start looking for things you need to know.”

“I-I can help with most of it,” Neville said hesitantly. “My Gran’s been raising me to take over our Seat since I’ve been little, so I know everything works.”

Harry smiled at both of his friends. “Thanks. I get the feeling that Susan, Padma, and Daphne are planning on giving me a crash-course in politics too.”

“Hiya Harry!” a nearly breathless, excited voice called down the table, breaking up their discussion.

He glanced over and saw it was Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor starting his third year, who had a case of idol-worship toward Harry, who he viewed as something of a hero.

“Hey, Colin,” he said warily, glancing at the boy’s hands to make sure he wouldn’t be ambushed by the camera Colin often carried around.

“Guess what?” The boy said excitedly. “My brother Dennis is starting his first year!”

“Er – good,” Harry said, though inside his thought process was more like: ‘Please, no, not another! One is enough!’

“He’s really excited, can’t wait to meet you – I just hope he ends up in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed for him!”

“Erm, sure Colin,” he said, before turning back to Neville and Hermione.

“It’s unusual for siblings to get split up, isn’t it?” Harry asked. “I mean there’s Padma and Parvati and that makes sense because of how different they are, and there’s Astoria and Daphne who are rather different too, but then there’s all the Weasleys getting put together, and you can’t get much different than the difference between Percy and The Twins.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, it’s not very common. I think you’ll have to grin and bear it though – you’re going to have both Dennis and Colin following you around even if they’re in different Houses.”

Harry grimaced, and glanced around the hall, several empty chairs at the head table catching his eye. Of course there was McGonagall’s as she was waiting for the First Years, then Hagrid’s large presence was missing as he was bringing them (hopefully in one piece) across the lake in the storm. It seemed like there was more missing, but everyone else seemed to be where they should, and he didn’t catch what he’d been missing until Hermione spoke up.

“Where’s the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?”

Each year they had gotten a new one – the first had been a stuttering man who was secretly possessed by the spirit of Voldemort, the second had been a vain glory seeker who used other people’s exploits and erased their memories so he could steal them to write in his own books. The third, Remus Lupin, had been his favorite and the only decent teacher. Unfortunately he had resigned last year when the rumor mill caught wind of the fact that he was a werewolf.

Harry’s eyes scanned the Head Table again carefully: the tiny Professor Flitwick who taught Charms was speaking with their Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, and Professor Sinistra, an attractive young professor who taught their Astronomy classes. The hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions teacher Professor Snape was there, sneering at every non-Slytherin student in the hall.

Next to him were Professors Vector and Babbling – Vector a woman in her late thirties or early forties with a long nose and wrinkle marks about her forehead; and Babbling, a short, plump woman with graying hair, closer in age to Professor McGonagall, and ruddy, plump cheeks that made her look rather cherubic and jovial when she smiled.

Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat in the center of the table, garbed in deep green robes stitched with hundreds of little stars and moons. His beard draped over where he was resting his chin on his fingers as he stared up at the enchanted ceiling, and the storm that could be seen through it.

The doors to the Great Hall burst open once more, and all of the chatter amongst the students and teachers stopped, as Professor McGonagall led in a group of bedraggled, soaking wet first years. The sight of them – it looked more like they had been half-drowned rather than just rained on – made Harry thankful he’d had a storm-less boat ride in his first year.

One of the smallest of the boys, with mousy hair, was bundled up in Hagrid’s moleskin coat. Harry saw the family resemblance even before the boy caught Colin’s eye and mouthed what looked like “I fell in the lake!” while giving a double thumbs-up and a wide grin to his brother.

Harry listened with half an ear as the Sorting hat was brought out and broke into its annual Sorting song, thinking about how small they all looked and wondering if he had really been so tiny when he had come to the castle.

He was paying enough attention to notice that the hat was singing a different song than when it had sorted them – he guessed it must do something different each year, though circumstances had come about the last two years leading him to miss the other Sortings.

McGonagall started to call the names of each new student from the scroll of parchment she held, and one by one the students moved up and set the hat on their head, and short moments later it called out their House.

When it got to “Creevey, Dennis”, the small boy stumbled forward, tripping over the moleskin coat that drooped around him. In the back of the room, Harry saw Hagrid himself creep in – or at least as much as a person who was nearly twice as tall as a regular man, and three times as broad, could ‘creep’ anywhere.

Harry turned back to hear “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted by the hat, and the excited Dennis ran over to his brother, and began to talk at high speed about how he’d fallen in and encountered the giant squid.

Harry shrank slightly in his seat and pointedly focused on the Sorting as Colin pointed him out to Dennis, and soon enough the sorting was over and Dumbledore stood up to say his customary words before the Feast.

“I have only two words for you: Tuck in.” Dumbledore said, and then food appeared across the hall.

Harry glanced down the table and saw Nearly Headless Nick speaking with Ron, Seamus, and Dean – though Ron seemed to be more interested in getting his food from his plate to his mouth than what the ghost had to say.

Harry brought his fork with a sizeable piece of steak to his mouth, and slid his gaze over the next table – the Ravenclaw table – his eyes automatically searching out Cho Chang. His search ended prematurely, however, when Padma looked up from her conversation and caught his eye, smiling warmly at him before she glanced down at her plate to cut into a piece of chicken. He looked back to his own plate, feeling heat rise slightly in his cheeks.

Hermione saw his expression and glanced over her shoulder between bites, and then turned back to Harry with a grin. “Should I be worried about those two stealing you for their own nefarious purposes, Harry? Those were quite interesting kisses you received before,” she said teasingly, and Neville nearly choked on a piece of bread next to her as she said it.

“They just kissed me on the cheek,” he said, his cheeks darkening. “You do it all the time too, they’re just friends.”

Hermione’s eyebrow rose. “Sure I do, but not with that sort of look in my eye. Just don’t be surprised if something comes out of it – they like you, as more than just friends.”

Harry didn’t meet her eye, his own fixed on his food. “Just friends,” he muttered, though he was sure it was the small part of him holding out for something with Cho that had said it.

“Mmhmm,” Hermione said, her tone clearly showing she didn’t believe him for a second, as she raised her cup to her lips to take a sip of pumpkin juice.

***************

The feast drew to a close, the rain still drumming against the glass windows, and puddings were served as the desert before Dumbledore finally got to his feet again.

“So! Now that we’re fed and watered, I ask once more for your attention so that I may give a few important notices.”

“Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to tell you the list of forbidden objects has been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list of four-hundred and thirty-seven items can be viewed outside of Mr. Filch’s office, should you wish to.”

“As is the case every year, the Forbidden Forest is just that – forbidden and out-of-bounds to all students. And students third year and up with the proper parental permission forms may go to Hogsmeade Village on scheduled weekends – the schedules are on the bulletin boards in your Common Rooms.”

Dumbledore paused, and looked out over the students. “It is sadly also my duty to inform all of you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup and Inter-House games will not be taking place this year.”

Harry’s head snapped up at that. “What?” He gasped, glancing over at Fred and George who had sat nearby, and were mouthing wordlessly at Dumbledore, looking as if he had not just kicked their puppy, but took it and fed it to a dragon in front of them.

‘Bloody Tournament,’ Harry thought, realizing that was what was about to be announced. ‘Quidditch, canceled?’ The game was usually his escape from everything else, just time for him to fly and focus only on the Snitch.

Murmurings and sounds of outrage began to echo through the hall, Dumbledore continued. “This is due to an event we will be holding here at Hogwarts, starting in October and being held throughout the school year, which will take its place. I have the great pleasure of announcing that this year we will be hosting-“

An enormous rumble of thunder drowned out his words, and the doors of the Great Hall banged open, revealing a grizzled old man, leaning upon a long staff. He started up the aisle between the nearest tables, a dull thunk echoing through the quiet hall with every other step he took. As he reached the Head Table, and the light caught his face, many in the Hall gasped.

He had a scarred face, his features looking as if they had been chiseled from wood. A large piece of his nose was missing, but it was his eyes that caught the most attention. One was ark, small, and beady, and the other was much larger and a bright electric blue. It rolled around in its socket unceasingly, completely independent from the other eye.

The man reached out a gnarled hand to Dumbledore, who shook it and quietly greeted him. “It is my pleasure to introduce our new Defence teacher, Professor moody.”

There was muttering throughout the hall, and whispers of “Mad-Eye Moody”, which brought Harry back to earlier that morning – Arthur Weasley had been going to visit someone named Moody.

“He was a great Auror, caught the most Death Eaters of anyone in the DMLE during the War against You-Know-Who,” Neville whispered to Harry and Hermione, staring at the grizzled, scarred man sitting at the Head Table. “Gran said he trained most of the Aurors who’re around today.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat as they watched Moody pull out a hip flask and drink from it.

“As I was about to say, Quidditch has been canceled because we have the honor and pleasure of hosting an event that has not been held for well over a century. Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament.”

“You’re JOKING!” said Fred Weasley loudly.

That set most of the people in the hall to laughing, breaking the tension of Moody’s arrival and the announcement about Quidditch.

“I assure you I am not joking, Mister Weasley, though now that you mention it, I heard an excellent one about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun walking into a bar –“

McGonagall broke him from his tangent by clearing her throat loudly, and giving him a pointed look.

“Ah, perhaps another time. Where was I? Ah, yes, The Triwizard Tournament. The Tournament was established some seven-hundred years ago as a competition between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang – the three greatest Wizarding schools in Europe. Each school has a champion selected from it, and the three champions compete with one another in a series of magical tasks. Each school hosted the tournament in a rotating pattern every five years. The death toll, however, mounted so high that they were forced to discontinue the Tournament.”

“Death toll?” Hermione whispered, alarmed;

Harry nodded, and tilted his head toward the other tables. “I forgot to tell you Susan mentioned the tournament to us. It sounds pretty dangerous.”

“You’re not thinking of entering, are you?” Hermione whispered sternly, and Harry quickly shook his head.

“A Basilisk and a few hundred Dementors were more than enough for me,” he muttered back.

“-our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports,” Dumbledore was saying, “have decided to make another attempt. Every effort has been made to remove the risk of death that has plagued the past attempts.”

“Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October, and we will hold the selection of champions on Halloween. The winner will gain glory – and the Triwizard Cup to be held in the halls of their school – as well as a thousand Galleons in prize money.

Harry heard the Weasley twins whispering excitedly about entering, likely to help their burgeoning business. Across the hall, he could see numerous students with excitement and fervor on their faces, clearly thinking about winning the cup, and also clearly ignoring the “mortal peril” bit.

“Unfortunately, to ensure the safety of participants, the schools along with the Ministry of Magic agreed that only those with a certain level of experience should compete. As such, only students of age – seventeen years or older – by the day of Halloween, may enter their names.” This announcement led to cries of outrage, and Fred and George looked positively furious at the caveat.

Dumbledore went on to explain when the other schools would arrive, and the level of courtesy and respect that should be given them, as well as whoever was chosen as Hogwarts’ champion, before he sent them off to bed.

Harry stood to leave with Hermione and Neville, hearing Fred complain about the fact that he and George would miss the cutoff date by months, their birthday in April. He caught sight of Ron again, looking off into space, and likely daydreaming about the Tournament and winning the thousand galleons.

The sight of McGonagall at the Head Table, however, reminded him of what he needed to do. “Hey, can you guys wait for me outside the Great Hall? I need to talk with Professor McGonagall about something,” he said to Hermione and Neville.

They nodded, and continued toward the doors, though Hermione cast curious looks back at him over her shoulder as she followed Neville.

Harry approached the Head Table, suddenly feeling nervous as he neared his Head of House.

“Can I help you, Mister Potter?” McGonagall asked, as the teachers around her got up and left to tend to their own Houses.

“Yes Professor, well… I was wondering, I talked to someone about this and they said you might be able to help… I - I feel like I’m not learning anything from my Divination elective. It’s not that it’s a bad class, but I guess I just don’t have ‘The Sight’ or whatever.”

“Hmm, I would agree with you, that it takes… a certain sort of mind,” McGonagall said. “Unfortunately, you chose the class, and are required to keep an elective course until you have finished your OWLs.

Harry scratched the back of his head. “I know, Professor, I was just… I did a lot of thinking over the summer,” he said, and swallowed, hoping she would take what he said next the right way. “I realized I wasn’t doing my best, in school. I was always settling for average, and I don’t want that to be who I am, and get by on the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ stuff. I got interested in Curse-Breaking, and I’d like to drop Divination and take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.”

McGonagall stared at him sternly over her glasses for several long moments. “Let me see your Transfiguration assignment,” she said finally, her tone neutral, “before I decide.”

He opened his rucksack and fished out the essay he’d been assigned, glad that he’d taken the time to rewrite it after speaking with Bill, and thinking about his future.

She took the parchment, and began to read while he stood quietly in front of her, the Great Hall nearly empty. After several quiet minutes, she finally looked up, and handed it back to him.

“Mister Potter, I must say I am surprised, and quite impressed. I had always thought you were capable of better, yet never seemed to be able to coax it out of you. Why have you not been striving for work like this?”

Harry blushed slightly, embarrassed both by her compliments, and her question, and mumbled something.

“What was that, Mister Potter?”

He turned his head up toward her but she could see he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s how I was raised. If my cousin did better than me, I was punished. And he was rubbish at schoolwork. And when I met Ron… he was my first friend so I sort of just matched him – I didn’t want him to get jealous about that too.” He said reluctantly.

“Blasted Dursleys, I told Albus,” McGonagall said under her breath, leaving some choice curses completely unspoken. ‘I should have noticed this, and if I have any say, Albus will have my wand up his nose if he tries to send Harry back to them.’

She shook her head, and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I wish you hadn’t hidden your abilities, but I understand why, and it is good to see you have decided to no longer do so. If you keep up this level of work, both here, and in your electives, I see no reason not to let you start Ancient Runes and Arithmancy – however if I see your grades dropping, we’ll have to rethink things. I’m sure you also realize you’ll be in third year for those courses?”

Harry nodded, feeling his nervousness dissipate, and a grin formed on his face. “Yes, ma’am, and if I study enough I can take a placement exam for next year and get put into fifth year?”

McGonagall gave a rare laugh. “I assume from your rather complete knowledge on the process and your interest in Curse-Breaking, that you talked to William Weasley?” At his nod, she continued. “William is a good young man, I’m glad you took whatever he told you to heart. You may go to your dorm – I will speak with Professors Vector and Babbling about your decision, and get your new schedule made up for you by morning.”

He nodded, and turned to leave, stopping only when she spoke once more.

“And Harry… I expect I’ll be seeing many great things from you. Perhaps even greater than our own Miss Granger.”

“Thank you, Professor, I’ll try, but she’s scary brilliant in a way I couldn’t ever match.”

McGonagall shared knowing glance with him toward the entrance of the hall where Hermione was talking with Neville. “Perhaps, though your mother was just as brilliant, and I hope she passed down some of that to you.”

Harry smiled sadly. “Me too,” he said softly. “Goodnight, Professor.”

****************************************************

“I hope no one gets hurt in this Tournament,” Hermione muttered as they moved up the stairs – she’d tried to interrogate Harry on what he’d talked to their Head of House about, but he’d been tightlipped, saying that she’d find out soon enough.

Harry caught Neville’s arm as he tripped on a trick stair, and kept him upright. “I expect someone will.” Harry said. “I’m just glad it can’t be me, with that of-age rule. I was worrying they would decide to choose me for the publicity.”

“I’m relieved as well,” Hermione said. “It’s bad enough watching you nearly break your neck playing Quidditch.”

Harry sighed. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that one either this year,” he said mournfully.

Hermione paused, and then grabbed his hand as they followed a prefect through the hole behind the portrait of the Fat Lady, and into the Common Room. “I know you’ll miss it, but you can always fly on your own.”

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt.

She chewed her lip, hating to see her friend like this. He had told her in his Second Year about how he used flying, and Quidditch, as a needed escape. Seeing his reaction to the announcement showed her how true that seemed to be, “Maybe you can throw together some pickup games? I’m sure at least Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw would be interested. And when the other schools get here, they might have some Quidditch players. You could even switch around the teams so they have random players from different houses or schools.”

Harry grinned widely, and turned to pull her into a hug that nearly rivaled her own rib-cage-crushing ones. “You’re brilliant, Hermione. That’s a great idea,” he said, his mood brightening.

“Alright then, if I’ve cheered you up enough,” she said, blushing at the compliment, “off to bed with you two, we get our class schedules tomorrow.”

They said their goodnights to one another, and Hermione climbed up the staircase to the girl’s dorms, while they went up theirs.

Harry was in bed by the time Ron, Dean, and Seamus came up, his curtains closed as he pretended he was asleep, preferring to let Ron cool off overnight before attempting to talk with him.

Dean and Seamus moved around the dormitory, hanging up posters on the wall before they got ready for bed, while Ron talked to them about trying to find a way to cheat the system and become the Hogwarts champion. Harry heard him mentioning Fred and George and an Aging potion, along with some even more bizarre schemes he seemed to have come up with since the announcement at the Feast.

Harry shook his head, and then covered it with his pillow, drifting off into a dream that did not involve the Triwizard Tournament like Ron’s were sure to, but rather two very pretty friends of his.

*****

A/N: Well, that’s it for this chapter, I hope you all liked it. If you know the books well, you’ll note that just a change in seating due to Ron leads to Hermione never hearing Nearly Headless Nick mention Peeves and the House Elves, leaving her to enjoy the feast and not obsess over the elves. That’s not to say SPEW won’t make any appearance, but it will be later in the year, and much different.

I will say ahead of time, those that like Ron are gonna have to hold out for quite a while. Harry’s change in courses, new friends (especially a Slytherin), etc., will not sit well with Ron and come Halloween, he’ll be falling rather far from grace – much more than he did in the book and it’ll take him a good while to grow up, and make amends. But don’t worry, eventually he will – I don’t hate him, I just think he needs some nice big kicks in the seat of his pants to get him to grow up and get over his jealousy issues, and boy will he be getting them!

                Next chapter, classes start! Thanks for reading, see you then, and please review!
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Breaking Habits