Black Goat's Nest [DRAFT]

Re:Turn

The entire great hall was buzzing with excitement. Tonight was the night that the champions for the Triwizard were going to be chosen.

Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat and in doing so had redirected most of the attention to him. "Alright students, it's time to choose our 3 champions!" He declared.

The statement only had everyone clinging more desperately to the edge of their seats. Suddenly the goblet of fire roared to life as the flame turned bright blue before spitting out a piece of slightly singed frilly paper.

"The Beauxbaton champion is- Fleur Delacour!" He announced. Immediately loud cheers sounded from the Ravenclaw table where most of the french school was situated.

Once the cheers died down again, the goblet spit out another bit of paper, this one a thicker than usual piece of parchment.

"The Durmstrang champion is- Victor Krum!" The headmaster announced. Once again the school in question cheered for their champion only this time most were sat with the Slytherins.

Then, after it was quiet again, the goblet lit up for what everyone expected to be the last time.

"The Hogwarts Champion is- Cedric Digory!" Dumbledore bellowed. This time the cheers were louder than before with most of the people in the room verbally displaying their excitement. Dumbledore himself had given the boy a warm smile too.

"Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only once will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory, the Triwizard cup!" He said as a staff member unveiled the coveted cup while the audience continued to cheer with restored vim and vigor.

But before any more could happen the cup started to light up once more, destroying the light atmosphere of the room. Everyone turned to face the cup as Dumbledore cautiously inches closer to the cup. Suddenly it spewed a fourth name. Dumbledore plucked the paper from the air and examined it only to see the name of someone who had been declared missing years ago.

"Harry Potter?" The headmaster said quietly. The name shocked everyone.

"I-it can't be," Minerva said softly. Even though it was only slightly louder than a whisper it rang through the hall like a gong.

Then, before anyone could speak, in a flash of blue fire a disoriented white hair boy in a bloody and torn, black, skin-tight suit that had clearly seen better days was deposited on the ground directly next to the cup. He was originally standing precariously, eyes wide in shock. Unfortunately, only moments later when he tried to speak he ended up coughing up blood before toppling backward leaving him sprawled out on the ground unconscious.

Dumbledore stood in shock for a second as his brain processed everything and he realized a child was laying on the ground, most likely severely injured.

"Severus fetch Poppy now! Children clear a path," He demanded as he rushed forward and checked for a pulse. He felt the gentle thumping of blood being pumped through the boy's veins and sighed in relief as he realized that the boy was still alive. He didn't know much about healing but he looked over the boy's body for any wounds only to find that there was nothing obvious. He moved the boy's bangs out of the way to check for a temperature only to be met with a small yet iconic lightning bolt scar. Dear Merlin this was Harry!

Just then Poppy burst into the room with a muggle stretcher with Severus following behind her. Her stride was full of purpose as she laid the stretcher down and pulled out her wand.

"Do you know who he is?" She asked as she used her magic to move Harry onto the stretcher.

"It's Harry," Dumbledore admitted. At the news, the children devolved into whispers as the Hogwarts rumor mill started turning. Poppy nearly lost her grip on the spell she was using to float the stretcher.

"So it is," she said as She flipped Harry's bangs out of the way and saw the unmistakable scar on his forehead.

"H-Harry!" Hermione yelled as she ran up to the stretcher with Ron hot on her trail.

They rushed quickly to the hospital wing at which point Madam Pomfrey forced everyone outside as she set to work healing Harry.

Forty minutes later Madam Pomfrey stepped out of the room.

" You can come in now as long as you're quiet. I treated his wounds and gave him some potions. He didn't have anything life-threatening but he needs rest," her tone was worried as she spoke but most wrote it off as her usual overprotectiveness of her patients.

"How did he get so injured?" Hermione pondered aloud.

"I can't tell, either he was attacked by multiple things or whatever attacked him was irregularly shaped. There are blunt force trauma injuries but also knife-like wounds and even within those two categories, there's a lot of variation." Madam Pomfrey explained.

"Where could he have been?" Ron asked.

"We'll have to wait for him to wake up to know," Dumbledore answered.

They sat in silence for a moment before Madam Pomfrey cautiously spoke up again. "I-I'm not sure why he was covered in so much blood. He would've had to be bleeding out for a while and his wounds weren't that bad. There wasn't even a wound where most of the blood was so either I missed something or it's not all his," She admitted.

"Oh, lord! You don't think he could've done something to someone else, do you?!" Ron asked in shock.

"Calm down Ron. I'm sure it wasn't anything like that. We shouldn't jump to conclusions. I'm sure Harry will explain everything when he wakes up" Hermione tried to reassure. Whether she was trying to reassure Ron or herself is still up for debate.

"Alright, say your goodbyes. You can visit him in the morning but for now, go to bed, it's late" she insisted.

As everyone left the room Hermione looked back at Harry. Thousands of questions whirled through her head before she turned to face the hallway outside again. It wouldn't do to ponder them, they all needed some sleep.

"Good night Harry," she whispered as she left the room.