An Unexpected Ally

'What the fuck?'

One primary thought flew through Harry's head as he stood in view of the entire hall. Every single person he could see was staring directly at him. He simply couldn't fathom how this had happened. He knew it would, of course, understanding how trouble always seemed to find him, despite him scarcely looking for it. He just didn't know how.

"Harry Potter." Albus Dumbledore repeated, his face still displaying disbelief at what he was reading. The boy himself had the same look, though also a twinge of resignation. That last bit of hope he was holding onto, that single shred of optimism he was clinging to that suggested that maybe- just maybe- he could have an ordinary year at Hogwarts, was ripped away from him the moment Professor Dumbledore had opened his mouth and spoke his name in the same manner one may utter an unforgivable curse.

His hopeful eyes sought assistance around the whole room, catching every professor. From left to right, the entire staff table looked at him with varying emotions- disbelief, disgust or anger- sometimes a combination or even all three. Only Hagrid looked worried, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Even Dumbledore was looking at him in disappointment.

His eyes caught those of Draco Malfoy, who looked positively green with envy and primed to explode at any second. He then saw Professor Snape, who looked positively red with rage and primed to explode at any second. He glanced along to the Weasley twins, who were in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap and positively black with soot and primed to explode at any second. If Harry had known there were going to be this many fire hazards in the Great Hall, he would have researched a shielding spell.

It was at that moment Harry realised that no one would be of any help to him. As loyal as he was, and as much as Harry appreciated him, Hagrid wasn't going to be much help in a magical tournament even with his umbrella. And it wasn't like he could defend Harry, because then he would be turned on for his unique teaching style, possibly being given the same amount of hate as Harry was most likely going to be given, if second year was anything to go off of. Harry didn't want to drag Hagrid down with him, so as of right now...

He had no one.

He looked finally to his friends with a small amount of hope. They had stood by him in his second year, after all, when he was believed to be the heir of Slytherin. However, all he saw was anger from Ron and a shocked gaze from Hermione. Of course, his best friend's anger could have simply been because his dinner had been stolen during the commotion and he had yet to find the culprit, but he couldn't fathom the look Hermione was giving him. He held on to hope that maybe she was going to take his side, but those hopes weren't too high.

Then again, he supposed he couldn't exactly blame her for not believing him, considering the way he and Ron had treated her when Sirius had bought him his Firebolt- an incredibly fast if not the fastest broomstick ever made- and Hermione had informed Professor McGonagall which was closely followed by the broomstick being confiscated.

For the first time in his school life, he truly had no one.

His eyes flicked once again to the Slytherin table. Even they were completely shocked by these events. Most of the faces he could see were either surprised beyond belief, green with envy or blank and vacant in the case of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, two particularly gormless young wizards.

There was one face Harry could see that fit none of these descriptions. A girl sat across from him, her eyes locked onto his from the moment he had noticed her. They were an icy blue and seemed to freeze him in place. She was not shocked or surprised, she did not appear envious and certainly not gormless. It was almost as if she was studying him.

Harry studied her in return. The girl's icy blue eyes were accompanied by porcelain skin, free of blemishes or freckles, while long tresses of blonde hair framed her face, a face Harry noted seemed almost aristocratic. Her nose was small and pointed and her lips were slightly pursed.