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She was panting, turning on the spot, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, waiting for someone…

Suddenly, a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air, like lightning. Bellatrix had dropped to her knees and her wand had flown out of her hand.

“Don’t kill me!” she called out.

“That was not my intention.” Dumbledore replied. He stood before Bellatrix with his robes whipping around him, and his face was illuminated from below in the light cast by his wand.

“Well, Bellatrix? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?”

“No— no message— I’m here on my own account!”

Bellatrix was wringing her hands. She looked a little mad, with her wild black curls flying around her.

“I— I come with an offer— and a request— please—”

Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where he and Bellatrix faced each other.

“What could a Death Eater offer to me?”

“I wish to defect. To switch sides.”

There was a tense silence. Eventually, Dumbledore spoke. “You wish to defect…” he repeated slowly. “Am I to believe that you have suddenly had a change of heart regarding the pureblood supremacist ideology?”

Bellatrix shrugged. “I never really cared about the ideology itself. I only believed in it because my lord wanted me to believe in it.”

“You’re saying you’re not a blood purist?” Dumbledore asked, voice filled with disbelief.

“I joined the Death Eaters because of my lord’s power, rather than his ideas.” Bellatrix explained. “I was raised a Black. Why should I care for an ideology that ascribes those filthy half bloods equal value to purebloods?”

“Are you aware, then, that Lord Voldemort himself is a halfblood?”

“Naturally.” Bellatrix scoffed. “All the inner circle Death Eater’s know. But he’s a halfblood who killed his muggle relatives. And his power more than makes up for his lacking heritage.”

“Then perhaps,” Dumbledore said in an accusatory tone, “Having been liberated from Azkaban, you wish to play both sides, so as to avoid going back there no matter who wins this war.”

“No.” Bellatrix grimaced. “I want to defect… because the Dark Lord is going to kill me.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that you were among his most favored servants.”

Bellatrix took a deep breath, and began her story. “Many years ago, the Dark Lord entrusted me with an object. A cup. And he told me to keep it safe inside my Gringotts vault.”

“This cup,” Dumbledore interrupted. “Would it happen to be a small golden cup with a badger on it?”

Bellatrix paused her explanation to peer up at Dumbledore. Slowly, she nodded.

“What has become of this cup?”

“It’s been destroyed!” Bellatrix gasped. “I only found out recently. The Goblins— when they discovered this cup during a vault inspection, they— they destroyed it.” Bellatrix sounded anguished.

“I see, then. You are wishing to defect because you are afraid of what Lord Voldemort will do to you when he discovers this item has been destroyed? Why not simply blame the Goblins and beg for mercy?” Dumbledore asked.

“It’s not just me who is in danger.” Bellatrix panted. “Narcissa, Lucius, Draco, Andromeda, Sirius… All of us shall perish if the Dark Lord discovers my failure. When he entrusted that cup to me, he told me to treasure it more than the lives of all my family members combined. And I— I failed him!” she wailed.

“Are you here to beg for protection for your family? Why should I do such a thing? And what will you give me in return, Bellatrix?”

“In— in return?” Bellatrix gasped, and after a long moment she said “Anything.”

When Dumbledore appeared lost in thought, Bellatrix continued. “I’ll join the Order! I can spy for you. Fight for you. Whatever you ask of me, I’ll do it!”

“And why should I welcome you to the Order of the Phoenix, after all the things you’ve done against its members?”

“You welcomed Snape,” Bellatrix scoffed. “You let him join the Order because he was willing to give you his loyalty.”

"You believe Severus to be loyal to me. Yet, Lord Voldemort trusts Severus, does he not?"

"He does.” she nodded. “However, the Dark Lord is... I believe... mistaken," Bellatrix had great difficulty in saying that sentence. Suddenly, she looked around her shoulder to check they were indeed alone, as if she was afraid of having been overheard. Slowly, she took a shuddering breath and continued. “I believe that he is more loyal to you, than to our lord.”

“Still, I ask again, why should I allow you into the Order, after all the things you’ve done?”

“Snape’s done things just as bad as I have, if not worse. We’ve done many raids together, you know. There was this one time, I remember, we came across a Muggle woman with red hair and green eyes—”

Dumbledore quickly cleared his throat to change the subject. “Putting Severus’s allegiances aside, the fact remains that he has Lord Voldemort’s trust. What could you provide me as a spy that Severus could not.”

“I am my lord’s most favored servant!” Bellatrix said indignantly. “I know things that he wouldn’t dare tell Snape.”

“Such as?” Dumbledore pressed.

There was a full minute of silence between them, as Dumbledore patiently waited for Bellatrix to reply. Finally, she answered “I have been in contact with Kreacher.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Kreacher? The house elf?”

“HA!” Bellatrix said victoriously. “I told you the Dark Lord doesn’t tell Snape everything.” Bellatrix said with a vicious smirk.

“How have you been in contact with Kreature?”

“Several months ago, back when I was still in Azkaban, my dear cousin Sirius was annoyed by Kreacher and told him to ‘get out’, or something along those lines. It was a poorly worded order, and Kreacher took advantage of it to leave the house and go to Narcissa. Over the past few months, he’s been passing us information not bound by the Fidelius. Things he overhears, names of order members, and information about the Potter boy.”

Dumbledore frowned. “What did he have to say about Harry?”

“He knows that the Potter boy cares about my dear cousin Sirius. I believe the Dark Lord plans to use this fact against the boy. Perhaps by taking advantage of his connection with the boy to lure him into a trap.”

“I see…” Dumbledore nodded slowly. “If that is true, then it is indeed valuable information. Very well. I shall be in contact with you.” Dumbledore turned to leave.

“WAIT!” Bellatrix suddenly called out. She threw herself to the ground at Dumbledore’s feet. “Please, like I said, I’ll do anything. Whatever it takes to help you win this war. I have just one request.”

“And what would that be, Bellatrix?”

Bellatrix looked up at Dumbledore with tears in her eyes. “Just… Don’t kill him. Please spare the Dark Lord.”

Albus was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper. “You truly love him, don’t you?”

Bellatrix nodded mutely. 

Albus closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. For all that Bellatrix has done, he couldn’t help but sympathize with her, and be reminded of the tender love he once shared with Gellert.

When the muggles started up Wicca in the 1930s and 1940s (and particularly when the witchcraft laws in Britain were revealed in 1951, thus allowing Wicca to be practiced openly and to spread) the Goblins saw the Purebloods looking down on the muggleborn asking about it, and the Goblins chose to adopt aspects and practices of Wicca to their magics and societal holidays.

This just makes the purebloods, and the magically raised, even more disparaging of the Goblins and dismissive of muggleborns asking after "goblin" stuff

In that moment, he felt Voldemort recoil not from the threat to life, but from the threat of pain.

Harry couldn't help but grin viciously at this revelation.

After hearing the full prophecy later that night, Harry couldn't help but celebrate in the lesson Bellatrix had so generously taught him.

While he may not be able to bring himself to truly desire to inflict pain for the joy of it typically; for Voldemort he was willing make an exception.

No, he would gleefully revel in it.

He would savor it.

And if his genuine joy happened to bleed through into Voldemort and cause further pain, all the better.

I absolutely hate using wronger although I'm not completely happy with the rest of the poem either lol. Will have to edit this when I find inspiration for this again.

Tom Riddle dies, and after 823,543 time-compressed years his soul is pieced back together, whole and complete.

He meets his grim reaper who is pissed because he didn’t fulfil the prophecy. Tom gives him a curious gaze, getting mad at his reaper for making him go through all that, actually having feelings for once in his life and now he wants him to go back!

Reaper explains that the prophecy never actually stated who the Dark Lord was and without him, it would have simply taken on a different form. The Reaper explains how ‘dark’ it must be to wilfully ignore the suffering of children, which the headmasters of Hogwarts have proven time and time again. Riddle scoffs that Albus ‘Leader of the Light’ Dumbledore would ever be dark, but his Reaper explains that the ‘darkness’ can take many forms.

The Reaper tells him that he will never find peace if he doesn’t go back and try to undo the suffering he had caused, especially when he has the means to override the headmasters of Hogwarts as hereditary Guild Leader of Slytherin. He must convince Henry Potter, Eileen Prince and Amalia Bones of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, respectively, to unite the four corners of Hogwarts and defend its students from threats both inside and outside the castle. The Reaper will send him back to his fifth year, before he split his soul for the first time.

Tom is annoyed at first that he has to go back to the orphanage, right in the middle of the second world war, but the Reaper gave him a special task. He must save the life of new-blood student Helen Ambers who would have had a ‘family gift’ of combining electron fields with magical fields i.e. bringing electric magics to magical Britain.

Without her gifts, the magical world had not been able to make similar developments in magic that the muggle world did with science and technology. If allowed to continue, the magical world would be discovered within a century due to magicals being unable to protect itself. The reaper warns him that there are both traditional and progressive forces that do not want to enable the development of 'technomancy' at Hogwarts and would seek to supress this girls’ talents. However, if this girls’ talents are nurtured appropriately, it is possible that the biggest fear (i.e. nuclear weaponry) could be counteracted by a combination of magics, including 'electromancy,' ensuring the safety of the nation.

I love bolano as a writer. This was translated by Chris Andrews.

Sorry I havent posted in so long folks, life happened

...but the Noble girl you were escorting talk in bizzare way like saying "gyatt", "rizz", "skibidi toilet", "what the sigma" and "chat, is this real?".

Give it a go folks. Its quite short

I was always confused by this. A lot of fics have these so called "trust vaults" set up for Harry with limited money, meaning that he can only access them and has to wait until he is of age to access his main vault.

Is this canon? Did the Potters really have something like this? A 11 year old can access his/her main full vault as long as he/she has the key, right?

Speaking of Gringotts keys, let's say if Harry took his key from Hagrid before year 1 or from the Weasleys afterwards. Would the goblins allow this and let Harry access his full main vault without adult supervision and allow him to do whatever with it's contents?

Or if Dumbledore or the Weasleys refused to give him his key, could he go directly to the goblins and ask for a new one? Would they give him one? What would Dumbledore say if he knew Harry took back his key?

Would he have any legal ground in demanding it back from him or getting the goblins to block him from accessing his vault without adult supervision? And finally, can the ministry intervene in these situations?

Harry knocks on the large wooden doors to the headmaster's office. “Professor Dumbledore, could I talk to you for a moment?”

“Ah, Harry my boy, of course. How are your classes going?

“They’re going well. Professor Lupin has been teaching me how to cast the Patronus charm.”

Dumbledore beamed. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

“I wanted to ask you something about… About Tom Riddle’s Diary.”

The smile fell off of Dumbledore's face and he gave a tired sigh. “What is it you wish to know, Harry?”

“That Diary… it wasn’t a normal dark artifact, was it, sir?” Harry asked

Dumbledore tensed. “What makes you say that?”

“Is it really possible to store a memory in a Diary?”

“Well, it is certainly possible to place memories into inanimate objects.” Dumbledore deflected. “Just look at the numerous portraits across the castle.”

“But that’s just it!” Harry exclaims. “The portraits, they’re just impressions. They don’t think or act on their own. Not like Riddle’s diary did. And sapping Ginny’s life away to strengthen itself… A memory couldn’t do that.”

Dumbledore sighs heavily and deflates. “No, you are quite right, my boy. What that diary contained was much more sinister than a mere memory.”

“What was it, then?”

“I had been planning to tell you about it later, but I suppose I may as well tell you now. I believe that Diary was something called a Horcrux. I will not go into detail, but suffice to say, Tom performed a ritual to split himself.”

“A Horcrux…” Harry mused.

“It is the foulest of magical rituals, Harry.” Dumbledore warned sternly. “Do not go looking for information pertaining to them.”

“Of course,” Harry nodded quickly.

“Now, I must ask, what brought about this question?” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

“Well, the thing is, Professor…” Harry began nervously, “I think Hermione may have created a Horcrux.”

Dumbledore choked on his lemon drop.

“Harry my boy," Dumbledore said after coughing up his lemon drop. "I’m sure I must have misheard you. Did you just say that you think Miss Granger created a Horcrux?”

“Hermione has been acting strangely all term. I remember when we got our schedules, Hermione had some overlapping classes. I thought it was just a mistake or something, and she wasn’t actually taking all those classes, but the other day, she mentioned something about a project she was working on for Ancient Runes. I asked around, and people say that she’s never missed a class. But Ancient Runes is at the same time as Divination! And she’s always in Divination with me and Ron. Somehow, she’s in two places at once! And then I remembered the Diary. And you just said that a Horcrux lets someone split themselves…” Harry took a deep breath and licked his lips nervously. “I think Hermione created a Horcrux so that she could take extra electives.”

Harry Potter took a random muggle's polyjuice and walked away under his invisibility cloak to the nearest train station and took a train (or bus?) to Devon (Ottery St Catchpole).

Voldemort was furious, how did the boy escape ?

Snape was livid, how dare that arrogant little fool ruin his plans.

The pureblood death eaters were confused, they thought the train only went from London to Hogsmeade. No one told them there were other trains.

No one died, George didn't lose an ear.

The Luckiest of Them All

Harry walked through the halls of Hogwarts, spells flying around him yet not one hitting him. He almost drowned in a bulk batch of Felix felisis when he was a baby. That may explain some of his strange behavior. A streak of green light flew past his head, while the floor collapsed beneath where his feet had been a couple seconds ago. He walked up to the great hall and dodged another killing curse. He wondered whether he could ever be killed. Honestly, after that stunt with the shopping cart in the third year, he didn’t think it could really happen.

“Harry, I dare you to go down the astronomy tower in a shopping cart.” Ron said, too tired to really comprehend what he was asking.

“Ok. I’ll do it at midnight tonight. That should give you enough time to spread the word.”

“Wait, bro, I wasn’t being serious! You could die!”

“Do you honestly think that could happen? I have had about twelve attempts on my life since I started school, and I’m still here, so what could go wrong?”

“Well, you haven’t been trying to die all those times, so you might because you tried.”

“I’ll take the risk.” Harry said with a laugh. At ten before midnight, Harry Potter and about 50 other students where at the astronomy tower with a muggle trolley, a stopwatch, and a blindfold (courtesy of Fred and George) ready to leave. Harry climbed into the cart, put on the blind fold, and let the two large Slytherin boys pick up the brunette and his container.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ron asked, obviously afraid for his friend.

“I’ll be fine. Drop it boys!” Harry screamed as the boys dropped his cart off the side of the tower. It felt like the coolest roller-coaster ever made. The drop straight down, the feeling of his bottom coming off of the trolley just a bit, and the pull in the pit of his stomach, just waiting for it to pull up, though he knew it never was. The crash was more than a bit jarring, and he could feel his right leg snap. The entire staff heard his scream before he blacked out.

“Harry, you’re ok now. There’s nothing wrong. It’s only a clean leg break, nothing too bad. Madam Pomphrey gave you some Skelegrow so you should be up and ready for class in a couple hours.” A kindly face looked down at him, so of course his reaction was;

“F**k off, you bloody git.”

“Remember Harry, we do not use language in this school.”

“We bloody well use language in this school.”

“No, we do not. Now your leg should be mostly healed up by now, but you are going to stay here for a couple more hours.”

And he was double sure because of that incident in fifth year.

He was just about to go skydiving when Snape intercepted him in the hallway. The greasy haired man looked like he was having a bad headache and he couldn’t take another pill for an hour.

“I have heard from some very reliable resources that you are going to jump off of your broom from 30 meters up at noon today Mr. Potter.”

Harrys high crashed. Hermione just had to tell on him, didn’t she? Well, Harry knew a way around this.

“You gotta catch me first.” And with that Harry took off running, yelling that the broom jumping was being rescheduled to now. Almost all of the students that heard him followed, especially when they saw Snape chasing behind him. It was a given this would escalate, as the last time something like this happened, Hagrid had to spend three hours trying to get the basilisk out of the lake. He ran through the doors opened by some helpful Hufflepuffs, and grabbed his broom from the locker room, almost being caught by Snape on his way out. He ran out to the middle of the quidditch field and took off. He flew up about 30 meters up, whooping in triumph. He stood on the broom, and slowly fell forward, casting a cushioning charm below him just before he hit the ground. Harry stood up next to an infuriated Snape, and spread his arms. A resulting cheer resounded from the stands where more than 70 students watched.

And that is why he is essentially immortal. He guessed that only old age could kill him off, in the end. Harry stepped left and narrowly avoided a crumbling wall. He always tried to help others with his luck, as it seemed to rub off on them when he was around. He pulled a young girl out of the way of an Imperius curse, smiled sweetly at her, and continued on his mission. All of the horcruxes where destroyed, one by a very helpful Neville, so he was clear for the kill.

He walked into the great hall, and saw the chaos ensuing. Voldemort was dueling three different aurors at a time, and one was slowing down. Harry took his place and started fighting his way closer. The rest of the aurors fell back, stunned at the skill of the young wizard. He was fighting with everything he had, and driving the older man back against the wall. They dodged all of the spells the others sent at them, good and bad. Voldemort began to gain a bit more ground, the tension rising with every step. Eventually, the two dueling foes where back in the middle of the hall, ready for the kill. They both circled around each other, each hesitant to kill the other. They paused, getting ready for the kill.

“Avada Kedavra!” They both screamed in unison. The two enemy’s disintegrated at the same time. Voldemort’s last words where; Haaaaaaarry Poteeeeeeeer! Harrys last where lightly more dignified. “Hermione, tell Ginny I love her. You have been good friends and an amazing family. I’ll see you on the other side…”

The End

One night at Grimmauld place our one and only hero couldn't sleep. He sat at the kitchen table, looking down at his hands, all the while thinking about the prophecy that he was under.

"...and either must die at the hands of the other..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes. Just as he was about to continue with the thought, he heard the usual pop sound of apparition. He looked up towards the door to see Bill Weasley walking inside, his clothes slightly singed, and one eyebrow missing.

Bill looked up, and visibly brightened at seeing him. "Hey, Harry, how is it going?"

"...better than you, I think" Harry answered with a little humour.

"Erm, yes. There was a little mishap with the last tomb that we raided, and I couldn't make it out without some damage, as you can see." The older man chuckled. "Those wards are always nasty, even if they hold long forgotten treasures..."

He continued to explain, while making some hot chocolate, but Harry wasn't listening.

"...long forgotten things. Things that he wouldn't know about!" He said with a crazed look in his eyes. Maybe some sleep would be nice, but no. He was close to a breakthrough!

"What?" Asked Bill, not understanding his genius.

"You know that I have a prophecy, right?!"

"Erm, yes? Dumbledore told us about it?"

"Well, it says that only the Dark Lord can kill me, and vice versa.... that means, that I count as immortal to anything else!" He finished with a too wide smile.

"Bill, I need you to take me with you. I'll walk into the tombs, grab the things inside, and walk out. It'd be easy!"

"Harry, I'm not too sure about this..."

"I'll take a camera with me take take photos of the runes inside"

"Deal."

....

A week later, we can find our protagonist in a dense jungle. Before him, stood an ancient piramid. The air almost visibly rippled with power, as if the wards could feel the intruders already.

Harry took a deep breath, and started walking.

As he neared the wardline, he could feel some resistance, every step he took became harder, but he didn't stop.

As he stepped onto the wardline, it was almost as if the world held its breath. He could almost imagine it, two different powers, trying to force the other into submission. The wards on the inside, fate and prophecy on the outside.

He grinned.

There was a grinding-tinkling-whining sound, as if the wards couldn't believe it either.

And he stepped inside. Alive. Unharmed.

He turned around, and smiled at the gaping visage of Bill Weasley, with too many teeth to be called sane.

"I think... I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership, Bill."

...

A fun little prompt about a Harry Potter, who weaponizes the prophecy in a new way.

(Inspired by that one yt short with the shark-riding-chainsaw-swinging-teenage-princess.)

Snape went on.

“I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.”

And then Seamus stood up and started shaking his lower body, which at first the class thought was a jinx cast on him. There were a few gasps and giggles, until Snape’s cold voice sliced through the confusion.

"Mr. Finnigan," Snape said, narrowing, "sit down at your seat or I shall have you testing antidotes on yourself until your eyebrows regrow — assuming you survive the first round."

But before Seamus could sit, Dean Thomas suddenly stood up beside him. At first it looked like he was trying to help Seamus, but instead he started doing the same shake, this time adding dramatic hand gestures. One of his hands landed on Seamus’s shoulder, and suddenly, they were couple dancing, right there in the middle of Snape’s classroom.

Snape’s eyes went deathly with the same energy as a cursed potion about to explode.

"Mr. Thomas," he said, in a cold voice, "if I wanted a demonstration of absurd Muggle mating rituals, I’d ask Hagrid to host it in the Forbidden Forest, preferably far away from me and my remaining sanity."

Despite Snape’s warnings, the Gryffindors clearly took it as encouragement.

Lavender Brown stood up with a squeal, grabbing Parvati's hand, and the two of them started twirling around the classroom.

Ron, who was watching all this with wide eyes, suddenly snapped to attention as if fate had personally tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to Hermione and, in a voice full of hope and nerves, said, "My Mione, dance with me."

Hermione, who had been watching Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati with clear disapproval, turned a bright shade of pink. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again, and in the end, she forgot all about her judgment and took Ron’s hand. After all, it was Ron.

Meanwhile, Harry was still sitting at the first bench, not turning around to look at the disaster unfolding behind him. But he himself was making lovey and kissy faces at Snape.

Snape noticed.

Snape did not appreciate.

Then, as if the moment couldn’t get any worse, Neville Longbottom stood up.

Everything stopped.

Even the Slytherins, who had been watching with horrified expressions and muttering about Gryffindor insanity, went silent. No one expected Longbottom to rise. Not for a dance. Not for anything.

Snape slowly turned toward him.

"Mr. Longbottom," he said, voice low, old, bitter, and full of dread, "if you so much as twitch your pinky in rhythm, I will personally hex you into next Christmas, where I hope you find a better sense of self-preservation than you clearly have now."

There was a long silence.

And then Dumbledore barged in, looking absolutely delighted. With a cheerful clap, he announced, “Absolutely splendid display of house spirit and creativity!”

He raised his arms dramatically and declared, “One thousand points to Gryffindor! And an additional five hundred to Mr. Longbottom—for bravery beyond measure.”

After Harry went into the Great Hall for breakfast, he spotted Ron at his usual place at the griffindor table, chatting with some other griffindor girl Harry never saw before.

Stranger still, the unknown girl smiled warmly at Harry and waved to him. "Over here, Harry, we saved you a seat!"

"Erm, excuse me, but... who are you?" Harry asked as he sat down.

"Sally-Anne Perks?" the girl said in a dismissive tone, as if the question itself was ridiculous.

"Your best friend?" she added, treating it as the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked him, probably noticing how pale Harry suddenly was.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, looking franticaly around the Great Hall, as if he hoped to suddenly spot her somewhere among the dozens of students.

"Hermione?" Ron and Sally-Anne looked at each other in confusion. "Who's Hermione?"

The trio sat down in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express, and looked at the sleeping man.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron asked.

"Professor R. J. Lupin," said Hermione, as Harry simultaneously said “Remus Lupin.”

"How d'you know that?" Ron questioned.

"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at the luggage over the man's head. She then turned a questioning gaze at Harry. “Do you know him?”

Harry nodded. “Oh yeah, I recognize him from the photos Hagrid gave me. And when I found some of my dad’s old letters, a lot of them mentioned a ‘Remus Lupin’. He was close with my Dad. Like, very close.”

Ron nodded, while Hermione narrowed her eyes. “What exactly do you mean, Harry?”

“I mean, he and my Dad would sometimes spend the night together.”

Ron’s eyes widened, while Hermione let you a high pitched squeak.

“And not just the two of them,” Harry added. “There were two other guys who were usually there too.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Blimey!”

Harry nodded. “I know, right? Snape even tried to join them once, but my Dad wouldn’t let him.”

“When you say ‘spend the night together’, do you mean…?” Hermione asked, blushing.

“Let's just say that they were going at it like animals.”

Sorting Hat: “Let’s see here… Oh my, you’re a time traveler!”

Harry's eyes widened. How do you know that?

“It’s all here, inside your head. Oh, don’t be so surprised. Occlumency doesn’t work against me, I was created by Godric Gryffindor himself!”

Harry tensed. Are you going to tell Dumbledore?

“No, no, not at all. My job is to sort people, not reveal their secrets.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

“So, you went back in time to get your revenge on Dumbledore, did you?”

He raised me like a pig for slaughter. I’m going to make him pay.

“And… You want to date Daphne Greengrass?”

I have to marry her, to secure an alliance with the Grey faction.

“Merlin’s beard, she’s only 11 years old!” 

So am I!

“No, Mr. Potter, you are an adult in an 11-year old body.”

Look, I don’t need to hear this from you. Just sort me already.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Potter. I know just what to do with you. Better be… AZKABAN!”

'Name?'

'Thaddeus Paddington the sixth' Dean replied.

"Did you check that one Cassius Julius?' She whispered.

'Aye.. I mean Yes Inquisitor.' Seamus (wearing a fake beard) replied in a posh oxford accent.

'Are you reeealllly sure, Cassius?'

(In a high born accent) 'Are you questioning the most noble house of Julius Inquisitor?'

'Heavens no. It's just that he looks familiar somehow' she replied squinting at Dean's face.

Dean nervously fingered the fake mole and fake moustache on his face.

'Let's bring in an expert.' Umbridge said. 'Mr Bartholomew Reginald Pemberton-Winslow could you come in for minute?

Fred Weasley entered the room with a comically large tophat, eye patch and monocle.

(Obnoxious Posh Upper class Accent) ' I was just.. er counting all my money like rich people like to do in the morning . How can I help you - Ah Mr Thaddeus how is your most noble father?'

Dean grinned.

"Er... Mione..."

Lavender's shoulders fell as she watched Hermione turn to Ronald, surprise on her face. So... So it didn't work. It never worked.

God, it was a stupid idea. She didn't know why she'd thought it would work. She was just desperate. So many years and her attempts at even just making friends had failed completely and utterly. And now...

She felt tears slide down her face and whirled, running away. She couldn't let them see her cry. Let her think she was just a heartbroken girlfriend. A stupid teenage 'bimbo' who wasn't wanted.

Why? Why did she have to like someone that so clearly didn't care about her? Why did she have to try so hard for that person's attention? Why did she have to fall so very hard?

She didn't go far. She went to the nearest classroom, found a seat, and dropped in it so she could cry. She was a mess in seconds. Tears streamed down her red face, contorted with pain and heartbreak. Her dusky blonde curls fell around her face like a curtain.

This was it. She'd lost. Hermione and Ron would get together, and she'd be alone. Heartbroken and with only a couple friends who'd know she wasn't just some stupid boy-stealing homewrecker.

She was in love. Maybe she hadn't made the best decisions, but so what? Love made people do stupid things.

She heard footsteps and looked up. When she saw the mane of bushy brown curls, she froze.

Hermione had followed her. Why? What did she want? Was...

"Here to gloat?" Lavender asked, unable to help herself. She'd deserve it. She'd been a bitch to the other girl. She was so awful at conveying her feelings, in reality.

"Lavender, I-"

"Just go! I know you want him, and now he wants you, too!" Lavender shouted, half-sobbing her words. "God, I was so stupid, thinking I had a chance. Why choose me? I'm just a 'dumb bimbo', right?" She gave a bitter laugh in spite of herself.

"No, I... Lavender, I'm sorry. I was wrong," Hermione pleaded as she stepped closer. She sounded scared, for some reason. Worried.

"Wrong? For what? Choosing the boy you like?" Lavender said miserably. "It's fine. It's whatever. I know I'm nobody's first choice. You hate me. I know it."

"No, Lavender, I don't. You've got it all wrong!" Hermione insisted.

"What in the world could I possibly have wrong?!" She shouted back, looking at Hermione with defiant eyes.

A second later, their lips met. Lavender froze, stunned as she felt the awkward click of teeth. Their noses bumped together. It was wet from her tears, and also from Hermione's.

A bubble of warmth exploded inside her. An overwhelming torrent of happiness that washed out the melancholy. The confusion remained as she tried to process what was happening.

When Hermione pulled back, she met Lavender's eyes. Brown to hazel. "It was never about Ron," Hermione whispered.

Different tears slid down Lavender's face as she wrapped her arms around Hermione's neck. "It was never about Ron," she agreed quietly, pulling the girl she loved close to share their second kiss.

“HARRY POTTER” Dumbledore roared. He grabbed Harry by the throat, lifted him up, and slammed him against the wall. With his other hand, he slapped him hard across the face. “DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME,” Dumbledore yelled, spittle flying at Harry. He backhanded Harry across the other side of his face. “IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE!!!” Dumbledore screamed.

“I- Wha- No, I didn’t-” Harry sputtered.

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. “DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!”

“AHHHHHH” Harry screamed.

“DID YOU ASK AN OLDER STUDENT TO PUT YOUR NAME IN FOR YOU? TELL THE TRUTH! CRUCIO!.”

When Harry just kept screaming, Dumbledore decided to try a different tactic. “Accio Ronald Weasley.” Ron suddenly came flying into the room.

“Woah.” Ron looked around and saw Harry. “Hey mate, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me you put your name in the Goblet?” Ron asked

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Ron. “Tell me the truth, Harry. Or else.”

“I- Please, I didn’t- I don’t know- Please don’t-“ Harry begged.

“AVADA KEDAVRA” Dumbledore yelled, killing Ron.

“NO! RON!” Harry wailed.

“That’s what you get for lying, Harry. Now did you, or did you not, put your name in the Goblet of Fire?”

“Ron… Ron is… You just killed…“ Harry said in shock.

“Accio Hermione Granger.”

“NO! Stop, please. Don’t hurt them.”

“If you don’t want me to hurt them, just tell me the truth. Did you put your name in the Goblet?”

“N-No, I don’t-“

“Avada Kedavra.” Dumbledore killed Hermione.

“HERMIONE!” Harry cried. “NO!"

However, the other Slytherin's believe she did it because Draco was really annoying and are inspired to do the same.

Lots of the former Slytherin's get re-sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff instead.

Soon enough Draco is basically the only Slytherin left.

Even Crabbe and Goyle got re-sorted, somehow getting into Ravenclaw.

Pansy went into Hufflepuff, whilst Tracey and Astoria followed Daphne into Gryffindor.

(Daphne decided she had to be re-sorted as being in Slytherin meant that other Slytherin's would try to interfere in her relationship with Harry)

"What?" Draco was utterly confused, and the rest of the class was no less shocked than he was.

"You've heard me, Mr. Malfoy, I expect you here tomorrow evening for your detention!" professor Snape said.

"My father will hear about this!" Draco blurted out, still shocked and now also angry.

"That he will!" professor Snape concurred. "I shall write to Lucius myself and remind him how badly such foolish and obvious sabotage reflects on his son and family as a whole!"