Reign of Shadows

Chapter 4 - No choices left

Harry found solace in the weeks of being overlooked - a reprieve from the suffocating attention of his so-called 'friends,' who were fortunately preoccupied, closely monitoring the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Among them, he noticed some lecherously ogling the girls from Beauxbatons, while others shadowed the 'attractive' wizards of Durmstrang.

As the Halloween festivities buzzed around Hogwarts, a sense of unease settled deep within Harry. The Great Hall was decorated with pumpkins and candles, laughter and chatter filled the air, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was a gut feeling, an instinct that had saved him in the past.

As he sat at the Gryffindor table, Harry picked at his food, his thoughts clouded. He politely smiled at his 'friends' hiding his unease, but his mind kept returning to that unsettling sensation, nagging at him like a persistent whisper.

When Dumbledore rose to announce the Triwizard Tournament's return, the students eye him with gazes full of hope and expectations. After a few moments the Goblet of Fire flared, its blue flames casting dancing shadows on the faces of the hopeful students. With a rumble, it shot out a parchment, and Dumbledore's voice announced the first champion, Viktor Krum. The Durmstrang table erupted in cheers. Moments later, Fleur Delacour was named the second champion, prompting applause from the Beauxbatons students. Then, as the anticipation built, the Goblet spat out its final choice—Cedric Diggory. Hufflepuff House erupted in cheers, completing the trio of champions. While the three champions made their way out of the hall for the inaugural briefing, the lingering excitement in the air painted a vivid backdrop, marking the beginning of an eagerly anticipated Triwizard Tournament.

But as a fourth parchment emerged bearing a name, Harrys heart sank dread clutching his chest like an icy hand.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore's voice echoed through the hall.

Time seemed to halt as everyone turned to look at him. A mixture of disbelief and shock painted the faces of his peers. The room was flooded with murmurs and gasps. He felt the weight of their stares, the weight of the impossible situation he found himself in once again.

A chill ran down Harry's spine as he stood frozen, unable to process what had just happened. The deafening rush of his heartbeat drowned out the whispers around him. He felt trapped, as if the walls of the Great Hall were closing in on him.

A sense of powerlessness consumed him. Just like before, circumstances beyond his control had chosen him. He had been thrust into the spotlight, into a perilous trial with no say in the matter. He remembered the helplessness of his first year, facing the unknown as the youngest seeker of the century and someone 'raised' without the knowledge of magic.

Now, as he faced the incredulous gazes of his peers, he was certain that once again, he had no choice. His insides churned with a mixture of resentment and frustration. He saw it in their eyes—the doubt, the suspicion. Whispers of "Did he enter his name?" and "Why would he do that?" surrounded him like a swarm of angry bees.

The feeling of isolation, of being an outsider in a sea of people, washed over him. He had hoped that the sense calm isolation he had felt over the past few weeks would last. But now, as he looked at their faces, he couldn't escape the notion that he was to be hated once more.

Following the procession of champions to the briefing, Harry let the surroundings blur into an indistinct backdrop, paying no heed to the words directed his way. Amid this whirlwind, he fervently persisted in his denial of any part in submitting his name to the Goblet, the echoes of his rebuttal resonating as the briefing rushed by.

His insistence fell on skeptical ears, leaving him enveloped in a sea of disbelief, the weight of others' doubt fueling a growing anger directed squarely at himself.

Over the next weeks, Harry found himself caught in a relentless tide of bullying, a cruel symphony conducted by members of various houses. Yet, it was the disheartening reality that Gryffindor, his own house, held the baton in orchestrating the worst of his torment. The irony wasn't lost on him—the very house that was meant to be his haven had turned into the epicenter of his suffering. Gryffindor students, once his potential allies, reveled in taunts and jeers, casting a shadow over the camaraderie he had once dreamt of.

As the verbal onslaught grew more scathing, the worst came from an unexpected source — Ron, his supposedly closest 'friend' together with Dean and Seamus. Hurtful words flowed from Ron's mouth, as he seemed to drop any pretense of ever being Harry's friend, each syllable striking like a dagger. All the while Hermione seemed to have erected an impenetrable wall of indifference, not even pretending to care about his wellbeing.

In the Gryffindor common room, the usually warm ambiance had turned tense. Harry stood at the receiving end of a barrage of verbal assaults, his friends Dean and Seamus having joined Ron in the onslaught. Their faces were twisted with disdain, and their words cut deeper than any spell.

"Face it, Harry, you're a liar," Ron spat, his eyes flashing with anger. "No way your name came out of that goblet by accident."

Dean chimed in, a sneer tainting his usually friendly features. "Yeah, just admit you wanted the glory, even if it means cheating."

Seamus, his voice dripping with contempt, added, "Your parents would be ashamed of you if they knew what you've done."

The words hung in the air, each syllable a sharp-edged arrow that pierced Harry's heart. He stood there, his jaw clenched, his fists trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. These were supposed to be his friends, the people he had shared the dorm with for years, and now they were using his vulnerability about his parents against him.

"I didn't put my name in," Harry's voice trembled, but he spoke with conviction. "I swear."

Ron's laughter was bitter, devoid of the camaraderie that had once defined their relationship. "Save it, Harry. No one believes you. We should have just let you die in our first year. The wizarding world would be better without you."

The common room seemed to close in around him as the weight of their words pressed down on him. He felt a surge of emotion, a mixture of betrayal and confusion. Even though he knew better by now, these were the people he had considered family for three years, and now their accusations were like shards of glass cutting through his defenses.

With a heavy heart, Harry turned and walked away, the echoes of their hurtful words lingering in the air. He had faced dark wizards, magical creatures, and the unknown countless times, but the pain of being ostracized by those he had thought he could count on was a challenge unlike any other.

'Perhaps they had a point,' he mused silently. 'Maybe it's time to finish what Voldemort began all those years ago.'

'It seems like I don't have any choices left.'