“Hey, Potter!” called out a voice behind Harry a few days later as he walked towards Double Potions.

Harry turned, completely alone in the corridor without Niamh or Ginny beside him.  His eyes fastened on Pansy and he growled, “What do you want, Parkinson?”

The blonde girl smirked and replied, “To show you this!”

She pointed at a badge on her chest, which read in bright red lettering:

SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY – THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

“Like them?” asked the girl.  “Look what else they can do!”  She pressed the badge and the words changed, this time showing up in green.

POTTER STINKS

The Slytherins around her laugh uproariously but Harry simply looked emotionlessly down at her.  His eyes suddenly saw Draco’s pale face in the crowd.

The boy hadn’t been one of those laughing.

Harry walked towards Pansy, stopping when he was about a foot away.  The Slytherins leans back a little, not laughing anymore and with fear in their eyes.

He leaned down – for Pansy’s head barely reached his chest – and peered at the badge.  Smirking, he pulled back a little and looked in her shrewd blue eyes.

“Very ingenious, Pansy.  Very much so.  But – here’s an idea.  Why don’t you make one that doesn’t make you look like an idiot, hmm?  I mean, not supporting your own Housemate.  Tut, tut.  What would Professor Snape think of that?”

Still smirking, Harry straightened and turned, heading on towards the Potions classroom.  Pansy glowered after him until he disappeared around a corner.  Behind her someone chuckled.

All eyes turned on Draco, whose grey eyes were filled with mirth.  He chuckled for another moment then locked eyes with Pansy.

“Well, well, Parkinson,” he said, “it seems Potter has foiled your plots again.”

“Shut the fuck up, Malfoy.”

Draco shook his head and walked through the crowd up to where he stood in front of her, barely an inch taller than she.

“Such language from a lady.  But – wait – you aren’t a lady, are you, Parkinson?  In fact, I think O’Feir’s more of a lady than you.  After all, what more could the Lady Hex be?”

He smirked at her then headed down the corridor after Harry, hearing Pansy shriek behind him.  As he passed by a shadowy alcove, he did not notice a tall, lean figure standing there.  When he was far enough along the corridor, Harry stepped out, smirking and shaking his head slightly.

“Well, well, Malfoy.  It seems you are having a change in attitude.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Later in Potions, the door suddenly opened and Colin Creevey entered, walking up to Snape’s desk.  The dour Potions Master look up at him and said silkily, “Mr. Creevey.  What would a young Gryffindor such as yourself be doing out of class?”

Several Slytherins snickered, thinking Colin was going to get detention and points deducted.

“I’m supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs, sir.”

Snape arched an eyebrow.

“Champion duties, I suppose?”

Colin nodded and Snape looked at Harry, who was just now bottling up the antidote they were supposed to make in class.

“Mr. Potter, put that on the shelf, clean up, and go with Creevey.”

Harry nodded and did as asked, picking up his bag and following Colin out, catching Ron’s sour look as he did so.

“So,” said Harry as they ambled down the corridor, “any idea what they want me for, Colin?”

“Photos, I think,” replied the shorter boy.  “Oh, isn’t it amazing?  You being champion and all?”

“Sure, Colin.  It’s all glorious.  Like war.  War can be glorious.  Then again, so can a well-shot hex.  But I digress.”

Colin just stared at Harry then said, “There’s the room.  Er, good luck!”

“Yeah, thanks,” said Harry, entering.

The room was a classroom, all its desks but three pushed to the back of the room.  The three left were covered by a black velvet cloth and had five chairs sitting behind them.  Also in the room was Krum, who was standing sullenly in a corner; Cedric and Fleur, who appeared to be deep in conversation; Ludo Bagman, who was sitting in one of the chairs talking to a very familiar looking woman in mauve robes.  A sneer immediately crossed Harry’s features as he saw who she was.

“Ah!” cried Bagman suddenly.  “Harry, my boy!  Come in, come in.  Don’t worry – it’s just the wand weighing.”

Harry arched an eyebrow and said, “Wand weighing?”

“Yes, yes.  We have to check if your wands are fully functional – they’re your most important tools in the tasks.  Ah!  And this is…”  He gestured at the witch in mauve robes, who had walked up behind him.

Harry sneered at her and snarled, “I know who she is, Mr. Bagman.”  He then said to her, “Well, Ms. Skeeter, writing more trash articles?”

Skeeter smiled grimly and replied, “Just a small one, Mr. Potter.  Perhaps, you and I…could talk in private?”

“Sure.  Why not?  No, wait.  I’d rather have a resurrected Voldemort brutally murder me.  Sorry.”

Harry turned sharply and walked away, not caring one iota about Bagman staring at him.  As he stopped near Cedric and Fleur – who had been watching him – Cedric leaned over and said softly, “Wasn’t that a bit uncalled for, Harry?”

The teen turned angry green eyes on the Hufflepuff.

“Have you ever read her articles, Cedric?”

“Er…yes.”

“Then my point is made,” said Harry cryptically, leaning against a desk and dropping his bag onto the floor.  He then pushed his sleeve up and took his wand out of the holster strapped to his arm.  Fleur snorted.

“Iz zat what you keep your wand in?”

“Yes,” said Harry slowly, rubbing at a small scratch on the dark wood.  His eyes glared up at the veela-looking girl from under his bangs.

Fleur snorted again and muttered, “Englishmen…”

Harry watched as she walked halfway across the room then began to rub at the scratch on his wand again.

Quite suddenly, Dumbledore appeared, followed by Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Mr. Crouch.  Along with a familiar, silver-eyed man…

“May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?” said Dumbledore as he and the other took their place at the judges’ table.  “He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament.

Harry quickly sheathed his wand at this and walked over to where four chairs had been put out for the champions.  As he sat down, he saw Rita pulling out a piece of parchment and an acid-green quill from the crocodile skin bag in her hands out of the corner of his eyes.  He suppressed a growl of annoyance and turned to where Ollivander was stretching out his hand for Fleur’s wand.

“Hmm…  Nine and a half inches…unflexible…rosewood…and containg…dear me…”

“An ‘air from ze ‘ead of a veela.  One of my grandmuzzer’s.”

Ah, thought Harry, so she is part veela.

“Yes,” said Ollivander, running his wand over the wand as though checking for bumps or scratches.  “A temperamental core that makes, but…to each his – or her – own!”  He then flicked the wand, crying out, “Orchideous!” and causing a bundle of flowers to burst from the tip.

“A wand in fine working order.  Mr. Diggory, you next.”

Cedric rose and handed his wand over to Mr. Ollivander, who smiled slightly.

“Ah…one of mine, isn’t it?  Yes, yes…  Ash…twelve and a quarter inches…pleasantly springy…with a core of unicorn hair.”  He flicked the wand, sending a stream of smoke rings across the room.

“Thank you.  Mr. Krum…”

Krum got up and slouched over, handing his wand to Ollivander.

“A Gregorovitch creation?  Yes, yes.  A fine wand-maker…  Let’s see…hornbeam and dragon heartstring…rather thicker than one generally sees…ten and a quarter inches…Avis!”

The blast that the wand let off made everyone in the room save Harry, Ollivander, and Dumbledore jump.  A flock of birds erupted from the end and circled the room once before flying out the open window.

“Very good.  Now…Mr. Potter…”

Harry go to his feet and walked over to Ollivander, pushing up his sleeve to reveal the wand-holster on his arm.  He pulled it out and handed it over in one quick, liquid movement.

Ollivander nodded, eying the holster.

“Ah.  A dueler, I see.  I’ve heard of your reputation, Mr. Potter.  And this wand…ah, I remember it well.  Eleven inches…holly…and phoenix feather.  And not a scratch on it…”

“Better for dueling, sir,” said Harry softly.

“Yes…  Yes, indeed.”  Ollivander flicked the wand, sending a fountain of wine shooting out of it before handing it back to Harry, who slipped it up his sleeve and into its holster in a practiced move.

“Very good condition, Mr. Potter.  Very good.”

“Thank you,” said Harry, grateful that the man hadn’t mentioned his wand’s connection to Voldemort’s.

“Now, then!” said Dumbledore, rising from his seat.  “Thank you all for waiting on us old people.  You may go back to your lessons – or perhaps dinner, as lessons are about to end.”

“Photos, Dumbledore, Photos!” cried Bagman.

“Ah, yes,” said Dumbledore as a man with a black camera jumped up from where he’d been sitting.

“Yes,” said Rita, her eyes on Harry.  “And get some individual shots.”

The photos took longer than anyone might believe.  Madame Maxime had to sit down in the end (she was shadowing everyone else) and Rita kept trying to get Harry in front.  Of course, Harry being fairly tall, go pushed back.  When the reporter tried to pull him forward again, he jerked his arm away from her and spat, “You touch me again, and I’ll curse your hands off.”

“Mr. Potter,” said Dumbledore sternly and Harry gave the headmaster a look that clearly read ‘Can you blame me?’

Finally, photos were over and Harry grabbed his things, leaving quickly before Rita could follow him.  She actually did try but he got away from her by hurriedly getting around a corner and ducking into a passageway behind a portrait of a large silver snake.  The trick with this passageway was that it had to be opened by a Parselmouth.

“Is she gone?” hissed Hedwig as Harry strolled down the long, slightly damp passageway.

“Yes,” replied Harry.

“Good riddance.”

Harry threw back his head and laughed at the snake’s remark.

“She wants in your father’s pants you know.”

That caused Harry to stop and lean up against the wall, breaking down helplessly into a long fit of laughter.

“She does, does she?” he finally said when he could get enough breath to speak.  “And how might you know that little piece of information, my dear viper?”

Hedwig poked her head out of his sleeve and gave the snake equivalent of a smirk.

“That’s for me to know, and you not to.”

This sent Harry into more peals of laughter as he pushed himself away from the wall and continued down the passageway.