Harry Potter and the Tide's Changing

Chapter 1: Summer Changes and the Quidditch Cup

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and we are all playing in her sandbox. I have used the toys of some other authors as pure inspiration for this story. While their will be striking similarities to "A Cadmean Victory" by DarknessEnthroned, the story definitely diverges from that writers' own ideas very quickly. I like their work very much and have read the mentioned works at least three times now, go check it out if you haven't yet. For this, I am using them as a foundation and trying to turn it into my own image so I don't want to get flamed for similarities, there can only be so many fanfics while trying to remain original unfortunately. If you have read "A Cadmean Victory" you'll probably only see mimicry in this chapter, I tried to write it as differently as I could but I always like to read several other fanfictions as inspiration and pick and choose what I find as good plot ideas. This story will not be a Harry/Fluer fic, or maybe it will, I'm not concerned with romantic pairings for this, I'll put whatever ends up feeling natural later down the road.

That out of the way, hope you guys enjoy the first chapter! I have updated it from when I originally posted it. I corrected some things that readers have pointed out and tried to get rid of misplaced words.

"Harry!"

His name came from the delighted voice of the female member of the golden trio. He had been enjoying a rare moment of quiet to himself. Harry had been at the Weasley's for a couple of days of the summer now and it was difficult to ever find a moments peace, but he was glad to see his friend all the same and turned to greet her with a smile.

"Hermione." he said simply, she clearly had not changed over the summer one bit. He had overheard his cousin Dudley and his equally daft friends spout on about girls becoming beautiful women overnight during their teenage years. While Harry had certainly noticed the small changes in Hermione, he knew she was not done developing, and was glad to cast of the worry he had of his cousin being correct for once.

"How has your summer been Harry? I hope you have finished your assignments already and won't be putting them off till the train like Ronald." Hermione pestered him before continuing on. "Also, have you dropped that horrible Divination class after last year? I would even prefer you to just not take it at all and not replace it than for you to continue."

At that last remark Harry blinked. "You would prefer me to not further my education in any route as opposed to learning the skills of a Diviner?" he ribbed her teasingly. He was used to her asking dozens of questions at once after seeing each other after a long stint of time, so this was rather tame to what he was used to, and he now had her blushing and off balance. After a few soft chuckles he took pity on her and answered her other queries.

"My summer has been fine. The Weasley's got me from the Dursley's just a couple of days ago, but with the threat of Snuffles, they left me to my own devices. I used that time to owl Professor McGonagall and quit Divination and pick up Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. The professors for those two send me everything I would need to study over the summer to catch up with the rest in our year, and they will test me during the first class back to see if they need to set me up with a tutor for the first half of the year." Harry explained to her, using the code word for his escaped convict but innocent godfather, Sirius Black.

Now it was Hermione's turn to blink, usually Harry gave vague, short answers.

"That's great Harry!" she enthused at the news of him taking studies seriously for once. "Were you able to finish what they gave you for the summer? And you didn't mention your other assignments." she pressed sternly.

"Yes Hermione, I finished everything for school, I even revised all of our old work from previous years and reviewed everything in our old books that I could have missed." he admitted. After the events from the end of his third year at Hogwarts, he knew he could not remain the same as he was. While in muggle school he wasn't allowed to apply himself for fear of repercussion for doing better than Dudley, in the magical world he was expected to succeed, and so far he had spent far too much time gaffing of with his other best friend Ron.

After Peter Pettigrew, the real man responsible for the Dark Lord Voldemort going after his family and his parents being murdered on the Halloween of 1981, had escaped his capture at Hogwarts, Harry knew he must become a better wizard. That is why he had spent every moment at the Dursley's house not committed to chores on studying magic to the fullest he could. He started back with his first year and reread all the theory books and spend a hurtful amount of time practicing want movement and memorizing incantations to spells. The books showed why he had difficulty in class most of the time, he had skipped the theory on almost every class, and just tried to force spells to work, but no longer. For classes like potions and herbology he had even owl ordered reference books so that he could understand each better, and after his yearly trip to Diagon Alley, he had purchased a better potions making kit, determined to do better in that subject and spite his hateful Professor Snape.

With his godfather on the run from the Aurors, and Pettigrew still out there, probably aiding his master Voldemort, he had to be better. He was a bit better, and he would be ready the next time an opportunity to catch the rat animagus presented itself. He had begun having visions this summer of Voldemort in a small baby form which he learned to be a homunculus. He and Pettigrew were clearly plotting something, and with Harry's track record at Hogwarts, he knew it must involve himself somehow.

"That's great Harry! If you keep on that track your spell casting and grades will definitely improve and if you do really good this year, you will probably be a fifth-year prefect!" Hermione practically gushed. She seemed truly excited about the prospect of Harry actually taking school seriously.

Harry smiled at the girl. Her excitement was almost contagious. For him though, everything was a means to an end, not a love of knowledge, he merely wanted to ensure that he survived to live to a ripe old age. If knowledge allowed him to live, then so be it, he would no longer slack off and remain ignorant. That is why he had already started to study ahead, specifically in Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. They were the classes that were considered 'wand' classes, and he had devoted time to them to ensure that he could duel more efficiently. He had even bought a couple of questionable books that he had picked up for extra reading and to practice more lethal spells once he was back at school. 'Never getting caught with my pants down again' he promised to himself.

While he himself did not care too much about being a prefect, he knew that it would be expected of him, he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. He also knew himself to be Headmaster Dumbledore's favorite student, he doubted he wouldn't be burdened with the extra responsibility of the badge.

Hermione brought him back from his thoughts with a question. "Where are the Weasley's?"

Harry jerked his head towards the stairs of the Burrow behind him. "Attempting to pack I believe." he told her with a knowing grin shared between them. The Weasley's were famous for being exceptionally unorganized on a normal day, a symptom of there being so many of them.

"Harrikins!" One of the twins, Fred or George, he could only tell the difference when he was looking at them, yelled to him from up the stairs. Soon followed a loud clambering down the steps, and he and Hermione were both surrounded by a sea of red hair. With the sudden increase in volume and proximity Harry shifted uncomfortably. He had still not gotten used to close contact with other people yet, a result of his upbringing with his magic hating relatives.

Mrs. Weasley, the matriarch of the clan soon took control of the situation. "Is everyone here?" she asked while bustling around, continually trying to tidy the house her brood left a havoc. "Honestly Ronald, Percy doesn't even like quidditch, and he got ready before you."

Soon after Ron was settled the group of Weasley's minus the Mrs. made off for the World Quidditch Cup which Britain was hosting this year. Mr. Weasley had gotten some top box tickets from a raffle at his place of work, the Ministry of Magic. This was extremely fortunate for the Weasley's as with so many children they ended up a little less well-off to do on the monetary side of things. Percy, the third eldest Weasley also worked at the Ministry and had only agreed to go to the cup because his own boss, Bartimus Crouch was going as well.

Soon after going over some hills and meeting up with the Diggory's, another magical family who had a boy a couple of years older than Harry also attending Hogwarts. They took a portkey to the campsites once it was time to depart.

Portkeying became Harry's second least favorite form of magical travel after flooing. He barely managed to remain on his feet after a swirl of magic dumped their group hundreds of miles away. 'At least there will be quidditch.' Harry thought to himself while he followed the Weasley's to their magically expanded tent.

"Bulgaria will win!" Ron earnestly declared while they were sitting in their seats watching the match play out.

"We disagree Ronnikins. While Krum may be mighty-"

"our money is on the Irish."

"Well George, our money is actually on the Irish and Krum." Fred corrected.

"Too true Freddie, Ireland to win the whole thing, but only after Krum catches the snitch." George finished.

"I still think Bulgaria is going to come out on top." Ron stubbornly argued until Ginny stepped on his toes to get him to shut up.

"Be quiet you lot, I'm trying to watch the game!" she hissed.

'She spoke in front of me.' Harry thought to himself. 'Maybe she is finally getting over her crush on me.'

He thought too soon, because Ginny noticed him studying her and quickly blushed beet red and turned herself back towards Hermione.

'Guess not.' he laughed to himself. While the thought of interacting with girls in a romantic sense was a new concept to him, he still wasn't accepting of the hero worship that most people at school had for him. At least Ginny had a reason to hero worship him for his own deeds. He had gone down into the Chamber of Secrets his second year and killed a Basilisk, as well as killed the shade of Tom Riddle, Voldemort's real name, by stabbing an enchanted diary which had possessed her to save her life.

While he was musing to himself, he ended up catching Hermione and Ginny looking at him weirdly at one point. "What is it?" he asked them.

"Why aren't you acting like an imbecile, like the rest of these lunks?" Hermione asked him, gesturing to the male Weasley's and the rest of the men in the top box. It appeared that they were all staring dazedly at the female cheerleaders for the Bulgarian team who were doing one of their dances again after their chasers finally managed to hammer in a score. He noted that they looked like the American cheerleaders that his cousin Dudley always eyed on the TV when his parents weren't home. He looked back at his female friends and shrugged his shoulders.

"Beats me, they may be a pretty sight, but no need to stare when that is going on." he gestured towards the mass of red and green in the sky, chasers and beaters zooming in and out of each other trying to finish and disrupt plays respectively.

The girls looked to where he gestured and shook their heads.

"But those are veela down there Harry, they are supposed to be able to enchant men with their aura." Hermione informed him.

At this news he looked down at the group of dancing women again. Currently they were growing feathers and throwing fireballs at the Irish leprechauns who were just dancing jigs around them, laughing all the while.

"Well, they don't have much of a hold of me at the moment I guess." he responded as the other boys seemed to snap out of their dazes now that the women weren't dancing.

While everyone got back to watching the match, he just reviewed some plays that he caught with his pair of omnioculars that played magical recording back. While he loved quidditch, he certainly preferred playing it as opposed to trying to keep track as a spectator.

At one point, when someone scored and the crowd went wild, the Weasley's included, Harry caught an elbow to the face which knocked his glasses off. He took a couple of glances around himself and then pulled out his wand and quietly summoned them to himself, knowing the Ministry wouldn't be able to tell that he was the one casting underage with this many magicals in attendance. After stowing away his wand back in his sleeve, he noticed his glasses were slightly chipped and proceeded to use the only spell he knew how to do wandlessly and silently, the mending charm. He only got good at this one from his cousin breaking his things all the time and needing to be able to fix them without a wand.

As the match continued, Ireland proceeded to do as Fred and George predicted and rack up the points, and soon prophecy came true and Krum caught the snitch, still leaving the Bulgarians in a deficit. The crowd went silent before it erupted and Harry spotted the twins going off to harass the announcer, Ludo Bagman, whom he knew they had made bets with.

Later into the evening while Harry was deep asleep, someone shook him awake.

"Harry!" Mr. Weasley hissed. "We need to leave, get the others and get to the woods, someone's setting tents on fire. Bill, Percy, and I are going off to help the Ministry regain control of the situation."

Harry watched the man and his two older sons head out of the tent, still trying to wipe the fog of sleep from his mind. Once it caught up to what he had just been told he rushed to get the others awake and soon they were out of the tent as well.

As they were following the mass of people heading for the woods in a panic, something hit the side of his face hard and all he saw was white light.

When Harry regained consciousness, he noticed that the left side of his face was warm and sticky. A hand check brought back brownish red results telling him that he had a head wound.

'Shit.' He thought to himself as he took in his surroundings. He appeared to be alone in this side of the camp now. He began walking around, taking in all of the destruction people had wrought, burnt tents everywhere. He thought he could see human forms underneath the ash but couldn't bring himself to check.

As he began making his way to the woods again, he ducked as his senses told him too, just in time to avoid a white light that came from his right. Having already drawn his wand Harry shot of a quick disarming jinx straight at the man.

It bounced off some magical shield and failed as the man threw a cutting curse back. "Lacero!" the man hissed. Harry summoned a rock from a fire pit to take the curse and immediately fired off another desperate "Expelliarmus! "It once again bounced off a shield, and away from the man whom Harry could see better now. He had a thin, pale, skeletal appearance and was draped in black robes. The man was also muttering incomprehensibly to himself words that Harry could not make out.

"Crucio!" the man cried, and all Harry knew was pain for a split second after seeing a flash of red light. That one second was the most painful second of his life, including the time he fought Voldemort for the Philosopher's stone, as well as when he was bitten by the Basilisk. It was by pure luck that he had been hit by it just before he got behind a pile of wreckage for cover, falling face first behind his new barrier with the man still a distance away.

"I am his most loyal follower." Harry heard the man whispering to himself as he peaked from behind his cover, trying to recover his senses from that burst of pain from whatever that curse was.

Another Crucio narrowly missed Harry's head by an inch, but a third clipped him on his left shoulder and Harry reacted on instinct, just pointing his wand at the man in a desperate attempt to stop the man from harming him.

The pain made Harry's mind a bit fuzzy, but it made him remember another time of when his life was in danger. It made him remember the two very first words that were locked in his memory. It made him remember a flash of green light, one that was now glowing from the tip of his own wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry hissed at the man, and a bolt of green lightning impacted him straight in the chest and launched him end over end in the opposite direction. The man landed some distance away, and he did not get back up.

As Harry took in the scene around him, and how he was utterly alone, and how he believed he had just killed a man. He also took a second to think about what that would mean for him. He knew that wands could be checked to see what they cast last, and he couldn't think of a way to get himself out of this situation.

'I can't be thrown into prison, the dementors will ruin me quicker than a tick.' he thought to himself as he moved towards the man he had killed.

Looking down into the lifeless eyes of the man he was just fighting, he took notice of the wand still in his hand. 'It's not even like I can take that one as a replacement either if I get checked, it will show whatever he was throwing at me.'

Soon, an unspeakable idea came to Harry. With his own wand and that of his attackers still in his hands, he aimed his own at the body of his foe and cast the one fire charm he knew, burning it several times until the body was nothing but ash as well as their surroundings. When this was complete, he snapped both his wand and his attackers, pocketing both materials. He took a second to accept the pain of breaking his trusty Holly wand, and all that it had helped him get through.

'I have to continue to survive, and I have to continue to get better.' he told himself as he turned around and began making his way back towards the woods.

As he walked away, Harry had no idea the changes that he had just wrought on the future, that of the Wizarding World, or of his own. He had no way of knowing how much his actions here would change himself, for the better or the worse of the world.