The Hero They Needed: Chapter 21

Chapter 21

“But being from America may be more of an advantage than many first thought,” Hermione read. “Coming for a land where disagreements are regularly settled in deadly duels, often in horrendous public spectacles, means that Mr. Potter already has years of experience in dangerous situations over his competitors from more civilized countries. In fact, this reporter has it on good authority that Mr. Potter is already involved in two deaths resulting from duels. While MACUSA has yet to make an official response, rumor has it that one such duel occurred when a jealous husband confronted him after he was found in bed with the man’s wife at the age of 16.”

Hermione huffed and set down her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as the students around her laughed.

“This is ridiculous,” she said. “How can anyone believe this tripe?”

“Oh, it gets better,” George said, reading his own copy of the paper. “I then asked Mr. Potter what he would miss most about school in America. ‘The brothels,’ he answered. ‘It’s a great way to relieve stress between classes.’”

“Someone, please tell me it’s true,” Fred laughed.

Dora scoffed.

“Only if that’s what you call Amanda’s bed,” she smirked.

Amanda gave her an offended look, reached around Harry, and smacked her on the shoulder.

“Are you calling me a whore?” she asked.

“How long did it take you to sneak that boy from Ravenclaw into your cabin?” Dora asked in return.

“Robert’s a nice guy.”

“His name’s Roger.”

Harry and the others listening couldn’t contain their laughter any longer.

“Bonjour.”

As the laughter died down, Harry glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

“Morning, Fleur,” he said. “Grab a seat.”

Fred and Geroge, looking slightly addled by her Allure, eagerly slid down the bench to make room for her. They only stopped when they bumped into their girlfriends roughly, earning each of them an unimpressed glare. The twins looked at their girlfriends, turned to each other, and swallowed nervously.

“Merci,” Fleur said, smiling at their antics as she took a seat between Harry and Fred.

“Did you read the paper?” Harry asked, lifting a copy of the Prophet.

She rolled her eyes.

“Oui,” she said with audible disgust. “Eef you can call zat a paper. Where did she even get some of zose lies?”

“I might have gotten bored and made up a few things while you were talking to the reporter from America,” Harry admitted.

“And she believed you?” Fleur asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged, “I’m not sure if she’s that gullible or just that unethical.”

Scoffing, she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and pulled a newspaper out of her pocket. It was a copy of the Salem Hareld, which she set in front of him. On the front page, above the fold, was a moving picture of the three champions. While Fleur and Cedric tried to look impressive, Harry gave them bunny ears, poked them in the side, and was generally being an annoyance. When they turned to glare at him, he struck an exaggerated pose of his own, leading to a bit of laughter before they tried again. Just below the picture sat the title of the article in bold black letters.

Triwizard Champions! A Closer Look at Diggory Delacour and Potter

What followed after that was a well-written article. It briefly discussed each of the Champions, speculated on the upcoming tasks, and discussed how each of them might perform.

“That one’s definitely going in the scrapbook,” Dora grinned, continuing when Fleur gave her an inquisitive look. “Sirius has a scrapbook he keeps of all the news articles Harry has been in.”

“How many times has he been in the paper?” Ron asked incredulously.

“Quite a few,” Dora said thoughtfully. “They did an article when he got spotted riding Levina over Reno; then there was the time he put a crater in a corn field in Iowa with his first broom; then they did one when he broke the sound barrier and got the contract with Lockheed; they did a full page in Dueling International when he won his first dueling tournament; oh, and then there was the whole kidnapping thing. So, yeah, he’s been in the paper a lot.”

“What can I say,” Harry grinned when everyone turned to stare at him. “When you’re good, you’re good.”

“You sound like Lockhart,” Ron grumbled, wrinkling his nose.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“You can explain later,” Hermione said before Ron could answer. “Class will be starting soon.”

“I’ve been excused from morning classes,” Harry grinned. “Hagrid wants me to show Levina to a couple of his classes.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Well, I’ll give you a copy of my notes.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, then turned to Jenna. “Want a ride down to class?”

“Ride?” Jenna asked curiously.

~

“Gather round now, gather round,” Hagrid said, beaming and rubbing his hands together excitedly as the class of third years congregated outside his hut. “I got a real treat fer yeh today.”

The entire class jumped when a loud cry rent the air. Some of the girls hid behind their larger classmates as they all turned as one and looked to the sky. A massive white Thunderbird circled above them, and as it turned, they could make out two riders on its back. It swooped down, causing the students to duck and a few to scream, but it leveled out just above their heads and glided effortlessly around Hagrid’s hut before flaring its wings and landing softly on the lawn.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Hagrid asked. “Come on then, don’t be shy.”

As Harry and Jenna slid off of the Thunderbird’s back, he strode forward confidently while the class nervously edged closer.

“Sorry we’re late,” Harry said. “Jenna was a bit nervous about flying.”

“Ah, don’t mention it,” Hagrid said, patting him on the shoulder.

Harry staggered under the light tap while Jenna rushed over to join Ginny and a blonde girl with large, pale blue eyes. He wondered if she was related to Ollivander.

“Now, then,” Hagrid said, clapping his hands together. “This is Levina. She’s a North American Thunderbird. Very rare and powerful creatures. They can control the weather to an extent, produce lightning, and absolutely love fish.”

Levina perked up and chirped softly.

“Ginny, open that barrel next to me hut.”

Ginny rushed over and pulled off the lid. Levina shifted impatiently from one foot to the other when she spotted the fish packed inside.

“Easy, girl,” Harry said, patting her chest.

“Fresh trout,” Hagrid announced proudly. “Grab a couple and come on up. Let’s see if she’ll let yeh pet her.”

Ginny looked at Levina, glanced back at Hagrid nervously, and then looked to Harry. Shrugging his shoulders, he sat down on the ground and leaned back against Levina’s legs. She took a tentative step closer, then another, and another, until she was within arm’s reach, and then held out one of the trout. Levina snatched it out of her hand, startling Ginny into snapping her hand back. As soon as Levina had swallowed the fish whole, she bent her head down and stared hungrily at the other one. Giggling, Ginny held it out for her to eat and gently reached out to stroke her feathers.

“Well done, Ginny,” Hagrid said, grinning and clapping. “Well done.”

The class gave her a brief round of applause as she rejoined them.

“Who’s next?” Hagrid asked.

As several of the braver students rushed over to the barrel, Harry settled back and relaxed.

~

A day later, Harry had his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Moody. He and Hermione entered the classroom early and took seats at the front. Other Gryffindor and Slytherin students trickled in over the next few minutes. When Malfoy entered with his friends, he sneered at Harry and took a seat in the back corner of the room.

Just as the bell rang to signal the start of class, Moody limped into the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Alright, listen up,” he barked, coming to stand at the front of the room and leaning on his staff. “Now that we’ve finally finished reviewing what lessons your teachers have managed to cram into your skulls over the last three years, it’s time to move on. You’ve learned a lot about how to deal with magical beasts and beings, but now it’s time you learned how to deal with dark witches and wizards.”

The classes muttered and whispered excitedly, but Harry felt a bit disappointed. He was years ahead of his classmates when it came to dueling, and it was unlikely he’d learn anything new.

“Besides Potter, do any of you have experience dueling?” Moody asked.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. At first, no one reacted, then, with a smug smirk, Malfoy raised his hand.

“Funny, Malfoy, I don’t remember reading about you taking part in any dueling competitions,” Moody said.

Malfoy scowled as the Gryffindors snickered and lowered his hand.

“I didn’t,” he said. “But my father hired a former world champion to tutor me over the Summer.”

“Did he now?” Moody asked. “Well then, why don’t you come up here and give us a demonstration? You too, Potter. On your feet.”

Harry stepped around his table and waited for Malfoy to make his way to the front. The blonde swaggered and sneered the entire way. Stopping across from him, he gripped his wand tightly and took an old-fashioned stance with his off-hand cocked behind and his head. Harry snorted and stood relaxed, his wand still seated in the holster on his hip.

“Right, on my signal,” Moody said.

A couple of seconds later, he tapped his staff on the floor, and bright red sparks spewed from the tip. Malfoy flourished his wand in a wide arc.

“Stupi-”

Harry drew his wand in a flash, let loose a Disarming Hex, and had his wand back in his holster before Malfoy’s had hit the ground. His cheeks went red as he retrieved his wand while the Gryffindors snickered.

“That wasn’t fair,” he complained. “You didn’t say go.”

“You think a dark wizard is going to wait for you to get in a silly little stance before he attacks?” Moody asked, causing Malfoy’s cheeks to further darken.

“I want another duel,” he growled.

Moody scoffed, “This is about determining your skill level, not how fast you can get your arse kicked. Potter’s wand wasn’t even in his hand when you started. You really think you can beat him?”

“Yes,” Malfoy hissed through clenched teeth.

“Alright,” Moody shrugged. “I’ll even count to three for you this time.”

Malfoy glared at Harry and got back into his stance, his muscles visibly tensed.

“One… two… three!”

Malfoy whipped his wand forward aggressively.

“Libe–”

Harry drew his wand and fired off a Bludgeoning Hex, the same spell Malfoy was trying to use on him. The blue spell slammed into the blonde’s midsection, driving the air painfully from his lungs. He dropped to his hands and knees, his eyes bulging as he wheezed for breath. Harry twirled his wand around his finger with a smirk, blew across the tip, and stowed it back in its holster.

“Let this be a lesson to the rest of you,” Moody said, unconcerned with the student gasping for breath. “The two things that will get you into trouble faster than anything else are stupidity and ego. Break up into pairs so I can see what I’m working with. Malfoy, do you need the Hospital Wing?”

“No,” he grunted breathlessly, slowly climbing to his feet.

Moody reached down, grabbed a handful of his robes, and hauled him to his feet.

“Then get back to your desk.” he said, shoving him lightly down the aisle.

Harry returned to Hermione just as Moody levitated the desks out of the way. Soon, the room was filled with dozens of voices shouting incantations.

“What’s with the holster?” she asked, eyeing it curiously. “I’ve never seen anyone use something like that. Is it special for dueling?”

“Oh, this,” Harry smiled. “Nah. It’s a novelty. Sirius volunteered to play a sheriff at a wizarding Wild West park a couple of Summers ago.”

“Then why do you wear it?” she asked.

“Gotta look out for my reputation,” Harry smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes even as her lips quirked up in a smile. For the rest of the class, he helped her with her dueling. She attempted to block a couple of his spells by casting a shield nonverbally, but after waking up on the floor for the second time, she agreed they needed more work. Moody hobbled around the room barking advice but merely nodded approvingly when he passed them.

“Alright, that’s enough!” he yelled near the end of class. “We’ve got a lot to work on and not a lot of time to do it. Read chapters five through seven in your textbooks. Next class, be prepared for a workout. You’re dismissed. Potter, stick around.”

“I’ll see you in Charms,” Hermione said.

Packing her bag quickly, she left the room while Harry took his time. Once the classroom was empty, he hopped up on the desk while Moody closed the door with his wand.

“How’s your training for the Tournament going?” he asked.

Harry shrugged, “Alright. Not much I can really do since they won’t tell us what the task is.”

Moody grunted as he sat at his desk, the chair creaking as he leaned back.

“Well, you’re talented with a wand, I’ll give you that, but you’re going to need to know more than stunners and bludgeoners if you want to win,” he said, grabbing a sheaf of parchment and a quill.

“Shouldn’t you be helping the Hogwarts Champion?” Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Diggory’s a good lad, but he wasn’t thrown into a deadly tournament against his will,” Moody said, then his voice grew softer. “And Diggory’s dad didn’t save my life in seventy-nine. I couldn’t return the favor to him, so I’m doing it for you.”

Harry swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat and nodded.

“You’re excused from class homework for the rest of the year,” he continued in a stronger tone. “I’ll be giving you different assignments. I want you to start by learning these spells.”

Finishing with a flourish, he handed the parchment to Harry. Taking it, he looked it over and whistled.

“Some of these are pretty nasty… and advanced,” he said.

“That going to be a problem?” Moody asked.

“No, sir,” Harry grinned.

“Good. We’ll see how long it takes you to learn those before we move on. Your other assignment is to find out what the First Task is.”

Harry blinked and looked up from the list.

“You want me to cheat?” he asked incredulously.

“This isn’t a game, lad,” Moody growled. “Someone put your name in that Goblet for a reason, probably because they want you dead. Besides, Diggory’s dad works at the Ministry for the department of Magical Games and Sports, and Delacour’s family is well connected. Do you think they’re not going to find out? If it bothers you that much, tell them. I don’t care. My job is to keep you alive and find out who’s behind this mess.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded. “I’ll see what I can find.”

Folding the parchment, he stuffed it in his pocket.

“Good,” Moody grunted and jerked his thumb towards the door. “Get to class. Oh, and Potter, if you see anything odd, you let me know.”

Giving him a cheeky salute, Harry left the classroom.