It was strange waking up back in the dormitory of Gryffindor Tower. Harry had had to blink and rub his eyes before he remembered he was not in the Room of Requirement and that was why the hangings were red and gold, rather than silver and blue.
He dressed as quickly as he could, then gathered his things and went to wait downstairs for Neville. It was best to avoid the tension between Seamus and Ron. The two had been whispering all evening through the feast, but eventually it had broken down into an awkward silence between the two of them. Harry was fairly sure that they hadn't been talking about quidditch this time.
Neville had made a scruffy, half-asleep appearance a few minutes later, arriving with half his books in his arms rather than in his bag.
'Seamus and Ron are arguing again,' he explained, borrowing the arm of Harry's chair to sort his things. 'They were having a heated discussion on the express, but they're just yelling now.' 'What about?' Seamus, Dean and Ron had been close last year.
'The Daily Prophet,' Neville shrugged. 'Seamus' mum agrees with the Ministry and Ron, being an insensitive idiot insulted her without realising. Seamus wasn't too happy with it and they've been arguing about whether Dumbledore's wrong or not every time they've spoken since.'
'At least it isn't about me,' Harry smiled wryly.
'They weren't too bothered about anything the Prophet said about you. Ron mentioned his mum being upset, but he didn't care what they were writing about you, said it as none of his business since you weren't friends anymore.'
'First intelligent thing he's done in a while,' Harry remarked.
'Second, actually,' Neville laughed. 'He believes Dumbledore, and by extension that you were put in the tournament by Voldemort, not hoodwinked by some dark wizard.'
'You said the name,' Harry noted.
'I gave Gran an awful shock,' his friend smiled, 'she was going on and on about how corrupt and useless the Ministry is and how there was no reason I could ever want to read anything in the Daily Prophet if it was basically promoting for You-Know-Who. I corrected the name and she stopped dead and renewed the subscription without a word.'
'She must have realised you knew what you wanted, Nev,' Harry replied, impressed. He'd heard enough about Neville's grandmother to know she was not a lady to be trifled with.
'I do know what I want,' Neville said quietly. 'I want to be strong, so nobody ever calls me a squib, or looks down on me again.'
'Should I say I told you so to Ron?' Harry joked, as the Weasley stormed through the common room wearing a thunderous expression.
'I wouldn't,' he warned, 'Ron's decided to just let things go, since he knows now it's at least partially his fault and that you aren't going to be friends with him, best not to cause trouble again.'
'I'm only joking, Nev,' Harry told him. 'It would be silly to create animosity between myself and someone whose fighting one of my battles for me.'
'Breakfast?' Neville books now in his bag.
responded
hopefully,
his
'Definitely,' Harry agreed, 'we've got Snape with the Slytherins first thing again, I need a full stomach to cope.' Neville looked more than a little nervous at the mention of his least favourite professor, but nodded despite it.
The groups of students seemed to sort of melt away before him as he walked down the staircase towards the Great Hall. Neville stuck by him, and some of the older Gryffindors and Ravenclaws seemed content to simply ignore him, but the vast majority of the younger years in every house scattered out of his path.
Harry had to bite back a laugh that would, no doubt, have leant credence to the rumours the Ministry was doing their best to spread.
At least it meant that they didn't have to put up with the chattering first years near them on the breakfast table.
'So where were you on the train this morning then?' Neville asked, helping himself to the toast rack.
A few of the more nervous Gryffindor first years darted past their spot near the doors, huddling together as they passed Harry. Clearly the rumour-mongering of Rita Skeeter was having more of an affect than he'd anticipated, but there wasn't much he could do about it, not yet, anyway.
'I came in my by myself,' Harry replied, 'didn't fancy sharing a compartment on the train with any of that lot, so I avoided everyone.' He gestured vaguely at the first years who were occasionally throwing glances his way.
Neville nodded, making the assumption Harry wanted him to.
'I'm impressed you managed to stay out of sight for the whole journey,' his friend smiled. 'I'd've ended up like this,' Harry pointed at the several metre gap around them at the table.
'Nobody wants to sit next to a dangerous murderer, Harry,' Neville remonstrated, waving a finger.
His joke was rather ruined by Hermione, who swung herself in next to Harry before he could finish speaking.
'What happened in the maze?' she demanded, not even reaching for any of the food.
'Why do you want to know?' Harry asked coolly, buying time to think. There were plenty of ways telling anyone anything could come back to haunt him, he'd rather keep his cards close to his chest.
'Viktor died in there,' she gasped, incredulous. 'So they told me,' Harry responded, more solemnly. He'd liked Krum, they hadn't been close, but he'd admired the Bulgarian.
'The Daily Prophet is keen to spread the suggestion that you were responsible,' Hermione pressed. It was clear she didn't believe it, she just hoped Harry would hate the accusations and want to clear his name enough to tell her what really happened.
Last year I would have.
This year was different. He had a plan.
'I'm not interested in what that paper says,' he shrugged nonchalantly. 'I didn't see Krum die,' he looked at Hermione seriously, 'I'll even swear an oath to that if you want.'
'No,' she looked distraught. 'I just need to know what happened. Dumbledore said Voldemort was responsible, the Ministry blamed Ludo Bagman, but neither of them could have possibly cast the curse themselves.'
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