LIKE LIGHTNING | Harry Potter x Reader Fanfiction

⁕ behind closed doors ⁕

Y/N's POV

Breakfast was a very noisy affair on the day of the first task. As the post owls appeared bringing a good-luck card from Sirius and a letter from my parents (wishing Harry good luck as well). Sirius had only sent a piece of parchment paper folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on the front, but I could tell Harry appreciated it all the same. A screech owl had appeared for Hermione and I leaned over to read it with her. As I read the headline she spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice. I moved just in time to escape the spray and pressed my lips together as the boys asked, "What?" 

"Nothing." I said quickly, as Hermione tried to shove the paper out of sight. Ron grabbed it and stared at the title and said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"It's about me, isn't it?" said Harry. 

"No." said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight. 

But before Harry could attempt to grab the paper from Ron, Draco Malfoy shouted across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table. 

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling alright? Sure you're not going berserk on us?" 

I threw a vulgar gesture in his direction and Harry said to Ron, "Let me see it." 

Very reluctantly Ron handed over the newspaper. Harry turned it over and read. 

Harry's POV

Harry Potter

"Disturbed and Dangerous" 

The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alamaring, evidence has been brought to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his sustainability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament or to even attend Hogwarts School. 

Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regular collapses as school, and is often heard to complain of a pain in the scar on his forehead. On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from class, claiming that his scar hurt too badly to continue studying.

It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hunting him is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.

"He might even be pretending," said one specialist, "This could be a plea for attention." 

The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the Wizarding public.

"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set on a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."

Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has been long considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. some fear that Potter may resort to Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening. 

"Gone off on me a bit, hasn't she?" I said lightly, folding over the paper.

"You're not mad?" Y/N asked, staring at me with concern in her eyes. 

"I'm used to it. And nothing Malfoy has to say means a thing to me." I said, glancing at the Slytherin table. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing and tapping their heads with their fingers, making faces. 

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" asked Ron, "There was no way she could've heard." 

"The window was open. I opened it to breath." I said, thinking of an explanation. 

"You were at the top of North Tower!" exclaimed Y/N. 

"Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds." said Hermione before an odd dreamy expression came over her face. 

"Are you alright?" asked Ron, frowning at her. 

"Yes." she said breathlessly. She ran her fingers through her hair and then held a hand up to her mouth. 

"I've had an idea." she said. With that, she seized her schoolbag and dashed out of the great hall.

"Oi! Blimey. We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes." Ron said turning to me. But a minute later Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table towards me. 

"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast." she said.

"But the task's not till tonight!" I said, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down my front. Had I accidentally mistaken the time? Y/N snickered at the spilled eggs and began to pick them off my pants. 

"I'm aware of that, Potter. The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them." she moved away and I gaped up at her. When I finally came back to reality I looked down and said to Y/N, "Thanks." 

"No problem." she said sheepishly. 

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to show up, does she?" I asked the two of them. 

"Dunno. Harry I'd better hurry. I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later." Ron hurriedly finished his breakfast and dashed out the same way as Hermione. Y/N gave me a kiss before leaving to her next class. 

Y/N's POV

The rest of the day went quite smoothly I had to say. I was sure I had passed almost all my exams, with the exception of potions. Of course, Professor Snape had to give us an almost completely different exam than what we had studied on. I was sure he just wanted us all to fail. 

It was finally time for our Defense Against the Dark Arts exam and I grinned to myself, confident that I would pass this exam. DADA was my best class. Sitting down in my usual seat, I felt a bit lonesome because Harry wasn't sitting with me. He was with the other three champions. A bit lucky, I thought, no exams for him this year. I skimmed the questionnaire we were given, finding that half the exam was about the different dark creatures we had reviewed and the others, explanations about the different spells. It seemed too easy, I thought to myself. Professor Moody had made this class exceptionally difficult during our lessons, but this.. it didn't seem like him. 

I furiously wrote on the parchment paper with my quill, double checking and even triple checking my answers. I was not about to fail this test, no matter how easy it might have seemed. When the exam had finished I took a glance out of the window and saw the tall hedges peeking out over the quidditch pitch, which was now the area for the third task. Professor Moody walked down the aisles, snatching up everybody's papers. When we were dismissed, I bent down to grab my bookbag and that one of my pieces of parchment had fallen on the ground. I picked it up and made my way to Professor Moody's office where he had just escaped too. 

Everybody had left the classroom and I stepped close to the almost closed door, my hand in a fist about to knock, when I saw an unfamiliar man standing in the room. I could only see the back of his body but from what I could see, he was tall with a lean frame. Sandy colored hair covered his head and the most unusual thing about him was that all his clothes hung outlandishly off his frame... they all looked like Moody's. My foot creaked on the floorboard and he stiffened, forgetting all about the piece of parchment in my hand, I dropped it and ran out of the classroom, my heart beating furiously. 

I knew I had seen something I wasn't supposed to.

Word Count: 1372