The Untouchable

C7: Meduza

Harry was a bit peeved to discover that Remus, the man-dog, had been fired and wasn't allowed to return to Hogwarts to teach. And it had something to do with being a man-dog (or 'werewolf', as Remus stressed upon many an occasion; like Harry cared).

Harry scoffed when he found out. As if Dumbledore hadn't known Quirrell was a Dark Lord or that the shiny moron in second year (whom Harry had never bothered to learn his name) wasn't a backstabbing, violent liar. Remus had been the only decent teacher (other than Quirrell's replacement, who was just okay) they had for Defence so Harry was a little annoyed by that fact.

Harry had the distinct impression as well that the Defence curse would be removed if a teacher made it through to a second year. He theorised that Dumbledore liked the curse, if only to give him a reason to rotate teachers on an annual basis for his own amusement.

After a slightly watery goodbye from his new guardians (and Harry enjoying the novelty of having guardians who cared enough to cry when they wouldn't see him for a few months), Harry sat on the train to Hogwarts, minding his own business as the wheels clattered and the steam engine whistled. Hermione had found him early on and sat with him. The girl apparently never made friends in her own house. The nice thing about Hermione, however, was that he could ignore her as much as he wanted and she never got offended as long as he helped her with wandless magic. Hermione reminded him of a wart that he tried to burn off at first and it kept regrowing to the point that he decided it was time to live with it.

Hermione actually wasn't anything like a wart, honestly. Harry found himself really liking her, but he was used to things of his being taken away and broken and he didn't particularly feel like getting attached. But apparently his feelings didn't care what his brain thought and he liked her anyway.

Harry found out very early on that he couldn't like a girl like that. Perhaps he should have noticed in first year, when he mooned over Damon despite keeping his distance. Or second year, when that boy walked through the hole in the ground and Harry couldn't stop thinking about him. Harry even felt a little odd around Sirius at first, but finding out the man was his godfather and now technically his adopted father immediately wiped that slate clean.

It wasn't anything rude, but Harry felt a flutter in his stomach and he'd become even more withdrawn – which was surprisingly possible even though he basically already lived as a shadow. He just seemed to have a thing for tall, dark featured and possibly crazy. Harry didn't like this discovery at all.

Time on the train flew by neatly and then Harry was watching the odd leather horses pulling the carriages and holding an interesting conversation with a blonde Ravenclaw one year below him who he felt was the only other intelligent student at school. Sure, Hermione was book smart. But the girl (Loony, Hermione's tongue slipped before she blushed nearly blue) was remarkably open minded and similarly fascinated with Harry. He noted to himself that he would have to keep an eye on her.

Harry sat next to Daphne at the Welcoming Feast, the young girl becoming remarkably like her second cousin Mollie as time went by, and frowned at the announcement of a TriWizard Tournament. It seemed that Hogwarts was going to have yet another year of chaos.

Harry didn't care for the well-polished Beauxbaton girls and boys nor the hardened Durmstrang bunch. They showed off a bit, twirling and casting fire and overall being posh. Harry sighed. It was going to be a very long year indeed.

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"You don't talk a lot, do you?" A voice interrupted Harry's studying. Harry looked over the library table and blinked owlishly at the young man.