The Web of Power

Regina Parkinson smirked as she walked down the corridor, feeling the eyes of everyone on her. Since the morning, all they talked about was her and Harry Potter.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't thrilled. Having her association with Potter ousted like this was not something she had planned or even thought about, but she was not in the mood to complain either. The looks of jealousy she could see in those girls' eyes excited her in numerous ways and she made sure to keep a permanent smirk on her face to further exacerbate their irritation. It was all too amusing.

Her time with Harry had been the best experience of her life and she was sure she wanted more of it, just as she believed he did. This little mishap might affect him but she was certain she could coax him into doing it again.

"You know, when I asked you to get down and dirty with Potter, this wasn't what I had in mind."

Regina grinned as she turned around and stared at the younger girl.

"Believe me, it's a surprise for me as well."

"You don't seem too bothered though," Daphne stated wryly, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed across her chest.

"Bothered? Me?" Regina asked, her smile wide. "And what do I need to be bothered about?"

"Well, I don't know… maybe how your folks will take it?"

"Like I give a damn what those losers think about me," Regina retorted with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Nah, girl. I'm going to enjoy this to the fullest."

"You do know you're not actually dating Potter, right?"

Regina smirked.

"You and I know it. Harry knows it. They don't," she replied. "Let them think whatever they want. Their jealousy is too fun to see."

"I'm sure that's the only thing you're plotting," Daphne remarked drily.

"Come on, Greengrass. Let a girl enjoy a bit of fun. No need to act so prickly about it," Regina chuckled, before she added with a glint in her eyes, "Or is there something else going on here that you'd like to keep a secret?"

Lips pursed, Daphne stared at the older girl who shook her head in amusement.

"Fine. Just ignore what I said. Now, I don't know about you but I've got to get back to my dorm. Classes start soon, you see."

With a cheery wave, Regina turned around and made her way toward the Slytherin Common Room, leaving behind an exasperated Daphne Greengrass who sighed and followed a few paces behind her.

As Regina entered the common room, a perverse silence followed. The smirk on her face did not wane even a tiny bit as she cast a glance around at the students gathered. She ignored the glares she received from a few students and walked toward the staircase that led to the girls' dormitories when a familiar face blocked her path.

"Explain. Now."

Regina stared at the fierce glare on her younger sister's face and chuckled. It did nothing but make her eyes narrow even further.

"Explain what, dear sister?"

"Potter? Really?" Pansy hissed. "You couldn't find anyone better than that filthy half-blood?"

"That's the best your little brain could come up with?" Regina mocked, tapping her sister's head. "I've told you so many times the braindead company you keep would rot that thing in there. What would it take for you to listen to me for once?"

Pansy slapped her elder sister's hand away, making her roll her eyes.

"Listen, sister. How about you keep quiet if you can't listen to me, huh? I'll do what I want, and you can keep gallivanting with that rotten crowd you keep, alright?"

"The fuck do you mean by that, Parkinson?"

"Oh, if it isn't the ponce himself!" Regina greeted in faux elation, turning to the side. "You got something to say as well, baby dragon?"

"I'm warning you, Parkinson. You control that wretched tongue of yours, before someone does that for you," Draco Malfoy snarled, pointing a finger at her.

Regina stared at the finger, unimpressed.

"Keep your appendage away from me if you want it intact. I can't promise you won't lose one next time you do it," she glared furiously.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed in anger, as he looked around. The entire Slytherin house gathered in the common room was staring at them. Slowly, he pulled his arm down, his face still set in a glare.

"I always knew you were nothing but a filthy little slag, but sullying yourself with Scarhead of all people is a new low, Parkinson. I didn't expect you to go that low."

Regina snorted in amusement, her disgust for the little shit shining in her eyes.

"Done? Or is there more shit left in that mouth of yours?" She asked, unfazed. Her eyes fell on her sister and she smirked. "I've heard you've got a nasty kink that involves dear Pansy squatting over your face and giving you some fine nutrition, but try not to let anything out when you talk to people, okay?"

A few snorts rang out across the common room as Malfoy stared at her, confused.

"What are you on about?"

"Oh nothing," Regina waved her hand dismissively. "Just had to prove to the people here what a braindead dumbfuck you truly are."

"Parkinson!" Malfoy shouted. "I'm not doing anything just because of the close ties between our parents, or—"

"Or what?" Regina snarled, her arms crossed across her chest. "What can you even do, brat?"

Malfoy stepped back, startled, as he gazed at her enraged face. Regina looked as if she'd kick the living daylights out of him.

To their left, Pansy was staring at her sister in a mix of rage and embarrassment. She couldn't believe her own sister would say something so vile about her.

"You're a bitch, Regina!" Pansy shoved her sister back, glaring as she took Malfoy's hand. "Father must be so ashamed of you right now."

"I aim to please," Regina replied with a flippant chuckle. "Please do me a favor, sister. He must have already sent a howler, and I'm in no mood to hear him screaming like a banshee, or whatever its male form is called. Just burn it when it arrives, all right?"

Giving Malfoy another glare in parting, Regina turned to the left and walked into the corridor leading to the staircase, leaving a pair of seething fourth-years glaring at her back as it vanished behind the wall.

Off to the side, Daphne Greengrass simply shook her head with an amused curl of her lips.

-Break-

Things were not too dissimilar with Harry as he found himself seated in the Gryffindor Common Room, staring at the moving picture of him and Regina passionately snogging each other.

It was indeed an authentic picture, and it left him perplexed.

There had been no one around them so it begged the question as to how this picture got leaked. He glanced at the one who had written the article and his eyes narrowed.

Rita Skeeter was a woman known to write sensational pieces for the Prophet that were always massive hits. She had earned her reputation as the most ruthless journalist in the business and was responsible for exposing numerous scandals over the years. He had never had much of an interaction with her but she seemed to truly be worth her reputation.

Somehow, defying all logic and explanations, she had managed to get her hands on this picture. He was flummoxed as to how she had managed it. One thing was for sure though — this would not earn him any favors in his house.

He glanced around and pursed his lips. Although he did not care what the sheep thought of him, he did live amongst them. Everyone in sight was looking at him with nothing but disgust. He had sullied himself with the enemy, at least according to them.

Numerous thoughts were running through his mind at the moment. How this had happened, how Regina was taking this, and the fact that they needed to talk about it. No way could he let this remain unaddressed. He needed to know where they stood, but first, he needed clarification.

He needed to know if he had been used by her.

He didn't know her, and he did not know her motivations or what kind of person she was. She had come across as a fun person to be around and the sex was phenomenal, but he didn't know anything else about her. He didn't want to judge, but he knew he needed to consider all options.

And the fact that she might have arranged for something like this to happen was not unfathomable. After all, he knew his worth, something that had significantly risen now that he was a champion in this tournament, and a close association with him would benefit her considerably.

Harry sighed and threw the paper where he had picked it up from. Overthinking would not help him. He needed to confront her directly and hear what she had to say about this, and then he could decide how to go about it.

Without paying any heed to the glaring or whispering group of students, he made his way out of the Gryffindor Common Room. Classes for the others would be starting soon, which meant he would need to wait a few hours. He kept his gaze firm and his head held high as he walked.

As the Gryffindors in the common room did, the others were also staring at him. He ignored the glares that were in his opinion more about his selection as a champion and less about the article while noticing a few that seemed to be either sad or filled with longing. He committed those faces to memory as he walked toward the Grand Staircase. A little walk around the Black Lake felt like a nice idea to relax and detox from all the negative stimuli he could feel around the castle.

The grounds were vacant. Students were inside the castle, attending their classes, and it left him with quite a relaxing atmosphere. Harry walked over to the tree he frequented on the shore and he sat down. He leaned his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes, letting the tranquil sound of water and the rustling of leaves soothe his mind.

Alas, it was only a few minutes later when he heard the footsteps of someone approaching him. He glanced over and a frown crossed his face when he saw it was the champion of Durmstrang, Viktor Krum.

The brutish seeker of the Bulgarian National Team had his Firebolt swung over his shoulder and he was wearing a classic practice kit. Harry assumed the man must have gone around for a drill, or was on his way.

"Good Morning," Krum greeted with a heavy accent and a small incline of his head.

"Morning," Harry replied neutrally.

The two young men simply stared at each other, and Harry could feel the awkwardness building.

"You're going to practice?" He asked, gesturing toward the broom.

Krum glanced to the side and brought the broom down.

"Da," he replied. "I hear you are seeker too."

"For my house team, yes," Harry nodded. "Don't know if I'd still be one when Quidditch restarts next year."

Krum furrowed his brows, and Harry sighed.

"There's a girl who will be the captain next year. She wanted to be the champion. There's a bit of… tension between us because I was selected."

"Jealousy," Krum frowned. "She should not be captain."

"Not in my control, that bit," Harry shrugged. "I can't be arsed though. I was on the team just because I like flying. Ain't as if anyone can stop me from taking my broom out."

Krum nodded, gazing at the horizon over the Black Lake.

"I saw you during the finals, by the way. You're good," Harry said genuinely.

"Ve lost."

"True," Harry nodded. "But you caught the snitch and pulled the Wronski Feint on Lynch. He ain't no pushover."

"Dat does not matter. Quidditch is a team sport. Collective always comes before individual."

"True again," Harry chuckled. He suddenly gained a thoughtful look on his face. "Tell me, how about we have a little competition? One on one?"

"Go on," Krum nodded, intrigued.

"A snitch chase, you versus me. Let's see how I manage against a pro. We'll be competing in a few weeks anyway. Why not have a little friendly before the big event starts?"

A challenging smirk grew on Krum's face as he stared him down.

"I von't go easy on you."

"I'd be royally pissed if you did," Harry replied as he stood up and flicked his wand to get rid of grass and soil clinging to his clothes.

"Go get your broom and meet me on da pitch," Krum replied and within seconds, he had mounted his broom and shot off at a furious pace.

Harry stood there, his hair swaying in the displaced wind that struck him head-on and smirked. The ritual had improved his physical prowess, giving him a boost in agility and dexterity. He knew what he was capable of, and now, he believed he could prove to be more than a match for a professional seeker.

Krum might be the best in the world, but he didn't believe he was a pushover either.

Harry silently summoned his broom and watched as it shot toward him at a rapid pace straight from the castle. He caught it and swung himself around, mounting it mid-air, and launching himself toward the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.

Krum was already waiting for him by the time he arrived, and the Bulgarian raised an impressed eyebrow at the sight of his broom.

"Good. No unfair advantage here," he remarked as he procured a snitch from his pocket. "Ve vill vait for fifteen seconds after I release it before ve start. Da?"

Harry nodded and watched Krum press the button that released the snitch's wings. They fluttered fast and he released it.

Both Harry and Krum kept their eyes on each other, monitoring the snitch only by the sound of its wings. They could hear it going fainter by the second until they could hear nothing but the wind as it blew past them. They kept count of the seconds, and the moment fifteen seconds were up, both young men shot off as one, lurching in opposite directions.

Harry ignored Krum and ascended to gain a bird's eye view of the entire Quidditch pitch while Krum mirrored his actions. His keen eyes scanned his surroundings, searching for the slightest hint of gold. It was an overcast day so the task was a lot tougher but both wizards were meticulous.

Suddenly, Krum shot to the left and Harry's eyes immediately scanned the entire area in front of the Bulgarian. He flew forward fast but not at a breakneck pace as he continued to see if Krum had truly seen the snitch. He could find nothing that indicated so and he immediately pulled back, resuming his scanning of the Quidditch pitch.

On the other end, Krum smirked to himself. Harry Potter was a cautious seeker and seemed to have the instinct to throw himself into the chaos once he was certain that there was a worthy prize at the end of it. A bit like himself, and that made him even more excited. Pure seekers like them were hard to find these days.

Harry scanned the pitch, trying to spot the snitch but to no avail. Realizing that staying in one spot was yielding no results, he started to zoom about the pitch, constantly on the lookout. He chanced a glance at Krum and saw him doing the same.

Suddenly, he heard the faint fluttering of wings and he swerved to his left. Without even knowing where the snitch was, he gave chase only on the basis of what he could hear. The sound kept getting clearer as he closed the distance between himself and the snitch, and it was not long before he caught sight of the evasive ball.

Harry flattened himself on his broom, knowing it would take away at his maneuverability but would give him the additional pace he wanted, and he outstretched his arm.

A violent burst of displaced air reached his ears and Harry immediately swerved to the side, slowing down just a bit, and Krum flew across him, cutting his chase. The Bulgarian quickly adjusted his trajectory and faced him with a smirk. Harry gritted his teeth, frustration hidden behind the begrudging smile on his face.

"Not so easy, Potter," Krum called out, and Harry sighed. The snitch had vanished once again.

"Nearly got you there though."

Krum shook his head but there was no mistaking the smile on his face. He was being challenged, and he found it as fun as he did.

Without exchanging any further words, they flew in opposite directions once again and started to look for the snitch. However, the distance between them was much shorter now. Both understood what this meant. If anyone spotted the snitch, it would easily evolve into a chase, and it would be close. Both could feel the end approaching, and they could somehow tell the next dash would be the final one.

Krum was the first to spot the snitch this time. A faint glint of gold near the grassy surface of the pitch and the Bulgarian launched himself straight to the ground. Harry followed barely a second later.

As he had done previously, he pressed his entire front against the surface of his Firebolt, reducing air resistance to a bare minimum and gaining speed with every second. Meanwhile, Krum did something unthinkable. He descended like a man possessed, his movement resembling that of a corkscrew, as he rotated at a furious pace while descending.

Harry heard the movement of air and realization dawned on him in an instant. All he could think was that Krum was a madman for pulling a stunt like that. The ground was approaching at a breakneck speed but none was willing to relent, both having their pride on the line.

Krum, being a pro, could not lose to someone in his fourth year at school, and Harry's competitive drive refused to relent in the face of anyone, let alone the best seeker in the world. It was a battle of willpower, skill, and bravery — all of which the two young men evidently had in spades.

Their eyes were affixed on the golden ball hovering innocently in the air, roughly ten feet or so above the grass, and both their hands were outstretched. Krum was constantly rotating, while Harry descended in a straight line.

Their different approaches decided the result of this little friendly between them. The snitch, as elusive as it always was, gave one final lurch, and Harry's eyes widened as he swiped across, his fist phasing through the air. Meanwhile, Krum, who was in a corkscrew, found the snitch directly in the path of his arm and his fist coiled around the golden ball. Both young men pulled back at the last second, their shoes brushing across the grass as they brought their brooms under control, their breathing heavy from all the adrenaline rushing through their systems.

Harry sighed as he ascended, slowly turning around to see Krum hovering in the air with a struggling snitch in his left fist. As they drew closer though, he was slightly taken aback by the big grin on the Bulgarian's face.

"Now dat vas a chase!" Krum remarked boisterously, and it was perhaps the most excited Harry had ever seen him. "No one has given me a challenge like that. You have talent, Potter."

Pushing the bitterness of the loss to the side, Harry allowed himself to relax and extended a hand to the other guy who shook his hand eagerly.

"I have never been so reckless before," Krum continued. "I did not think you vill bring that corkscrew out of me, Potter. Good challenge."

Alright, that felt good as well. Although he'd lost, the fact that he had pushed the best seeker in the world to his absolute limit did make him feel slightly proud of himself. Yet, he'd have preferred to have won, but he supposed he could take this right now.

"Could've gone any way, that one," he remarked, earning a nod from Krum. "Next time, maybe, who knows…"

Krum gave him a challenging smirk.

"I say everyone is sleeping on you, Potter," he replied. "You are good, and you vill surprise everyone in this tournament."

"I'm going to win, Krum," Harry declared plainly.

"Oh? Is that so?" Krum asked, grinning. "Ve vill see. I am excited to compete against you after dat."

"I'd bring better than my A game if I were you," Harry replied. "All three of you. Have a good one."

Without another glance, Harry turned around and flew away toward the castle, leaving a smirking Bulgarian staring at him.

'He flies damn well, controls that beast of a broom expertly, has great tactical knowledge of how a snitch chase works, has keen senses, and the balls to match all that. He'd be one hell of a pro,' Krum thought. 'Something to think about.'

As Harry's dot in the sky vanished behind one of the castle's towers, Krum turned around and flew back toward the Durmstrang ship. A cold bath was what he needed after that adrenaline storm.

As he left, a certain blue-eyed young woman emerged from behind one of the towers that led to the stands. The wind rustled her silvery hair behind her as several strands fell across her face. She brushed those strands aside as she stared into the distance where Harry Potter had just flown away.

"Qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit, Fleur ? Tu ne peux sous-estimer personne dans ce tournoi." (Tr. "What did I tell you, Fleur? You cannot underestimate anyone in this tournament.")

Fleur Delacour, the champion and representative of Beauxbatons, glanced to the side where the headmistress of her school, Madame Olympe Maxime, stood with her back to the wooden tower.

"Il n'y aura pas de Quidditch ni de courses de balais dans ce tournoi, n'est-ce pas?" (Tr. "We won't have Quidditch or broom races in this tournament, right?")

"Cela n'a pas d'importance. Et ce n'est pas ce que je voulais dire. Vous venez de voir un étudiant de quatrième année affronter le meilleur chercheur du monde et presque gagner. Cela en dit long sur ses capacités," Maxime shook her head. (Tr. "That doesn't matter. And that is not the point I was making. You just saw a student in his fourth year go toe-to-toe with the best seeker in the world and almost win. That says a lot about his ability.")

"Bien voler ne signifie pas qu'il est bon en magie," Fleur retorted. (Tr. "Flying well doesn't mean he's magically good.")

"Non, ce n'est pas le cas. Mais cela nous dit qu'il ne faut pas le sous-estimer. D'après les rumeurs qui courent dans le château et tout ce que j'ai pu découvrir sur ce garçon, il pourrait bien être le plus grand défi à relever." (Tr. "No, it doesn't. But it does tell us he is not to be underestimated. Going by the rumors around the castle and whatever else I could discover about that boy, he might as well be the biggest challenge."

"Vraiment, Madame ? Je ne savais pas que vous croyiez aux ouï-dire," Fleur chuckled. (Tr. "Really, Madame? I didn't know you believed in hearsay.")

"Il s'agit peut-être de rumeurs enjolivées, je ne le nie pas, mais il serait stupide de le traiter comme un enfant et non comme un concurrent. Malgré les circonstances, il a été choisi par la Coupe de Feu." (Tr. "They may be embellished rumors, I won't deny, but you would be foolish to treat him as a child and not as a competitor. Circumstances notwithstanding, he was chosen by the Goblet of Fire.")

Fleur Delacour pursed her lips and stared into the distance.

"Noté, Madame," she replied and walked away, leaving her headmistress staring at her. (Tr. "Noted, Madame.")

"Maintenant, je pense que je devrais commencer," she whispered to herself and turned around, walking in the opposite direction. Her destination — a certain gamekeeper's hut. (Tr. "Now then, I guess I should get started.")

-Break-

Harry had been in the secret room for over an hour now when the door opened and Daphne entered. She cast a glance at him and nodded. Harry nodded back and watched as she took her place on the chair and pulled out the books once again.

For a few minutes, they remained silent when Harry shut his book and turned to his right where she sat a few feet away.

"Thanks for… you know…"

Daphne looked over and chuckled.

"For getting you laid for the first time? Don't mention it," she replied. "Gotta say though. You must know what you were doing, if Parkinson's bubbly behavior has anything to say about it."

"Wouldn't you like to know," Harry retorted with a smirk.

"You wish," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Bet you didn't see it coming though. That article."

Harry released a deep breath and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"I really didn't," he agreed. "Still got no idea how Skeeter got that picture."

"Quite a picture it is too," Daphne remarked. "You two really got into it last night, didn't you?"

"Have you looked at her?" Harry asked rhetorically. "Still, it's gonna be a pain now."

"How come?" Daphne asked curiously, making Harry turn back toward her.

"Eh?"

"You said you don't want a relationship, probably ever, so isn't this perfect? She could pose to be your girl in public and you can stay free of any headaches. It ain't as if you need to do anything given you're not actually dating and all."

"She said all that to you?" Harry asked curiously.

"She wasn't complaining about it, if that's what you're asking," Daphne replied. "She's happily enjoying the jealous glares all the girls are giving her. Says it's fun."

"Really?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. He didn't know much about her but it sure came off as a bit of a surprise.

Daphne nodded.

"I can't say for sure what she's thinking or what she wants, but I can make a pretty good guess."

"Go on."

"I think she's just happy to have her name associated with you. You know, with you being who you are. Now, I'm not suggesting she wants to use you to gain something. That's not the kind of girl she is. She's probably—"

"I guess you said it already," Harry cut her off. "It's about clout, innit?"

"Bingo," Daphne snapped her fingers casually.

"I see," he muttered. "I honestly don't know how I feel about that."

"Just let the idiot be," Daphne waved her hand dismissively. "It isn't as if she's going to extort something from you. She isn't that kind of girl, I can tell you that much."

"Well, given who her sister is, I do find myself a bit skeptical about all of this, if I'm being honest."

Daphne chuckled.

"Believe me, her being a Parkinson is the last thing you need to be worried about."

"Again, explain, if you please?"

"She hates her folks' guts," Daphne said drily. "She'd puke on her old man's face if she wanted to, but that's probably too disgusting. Funnily though, Pansy did confront her about it this morning alongside Malfoy."

"Doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

"Shouldn't either. She was pretty straightforward with it all, insulting both her sister and Malfoy in front of the entire house. I'm telling you, you don't need to worry about her doing something bad to you."

Harry pursed his lips and nodded, looking thoughtful.

Daphne was vouching for Regina, and although he felt he could take her words at face value, there was no logic in doing that. He had to make sure of everything and take every appropriate measure to ensure this didn't come to bite him in the ass someday.

He needed to talk to her in person and make things clear. They needed to reach an understanding of all of this and how to go about it. Even though this little charade could come in handy, he couldn't have her going around sleeping with random blokes. That would be insulting to him, and there was no way he could have that.

"Stop thinking too hard about it," Daphne muttered. "I'll tell her to meet you in the same place tonight if you want. You two get talk it out then."

"That'd be cracking," Harry nodded.

"Also," Daphne continued. "Malfoy and Pansy aren't too happy about things, so you can expect whatever he's plotting to happen soon. I've seen him talking to Flint and his group of thugs, so you might wanna watch your back."

"Regina won't be attacked, right?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Slytherin has a rule. All issues must be resolved inside the dueling arena. Malfoy and the others might be morons, but they won't dare cross Snape."

"Alright," Harry nodded. "Keep on the lookout for anything else you can find."

"You got it," Daphne shrugged. "Thought of anything to help you out with whatever creature you'll face in the first task?"

"A bit here and there, yeah," Harry nodded. "I might go full brute and take that bastard head-on, or I might try subtle. Still deciding."

"Whatever. Just make sure you don't get yourself killed."

Amused, Harry gazed at her.

"Aw, you do care," he teased.

"Ha! You bloody wish!"

TBC.

Check out the link on my profile for early access and more of my work. Chapters 8, 9, and 10 are already up.

Thanks for reading.