Welcome to the eighth chapter of our ongoing series, which answers the question: In Harry Potter, what if instead of magic, it’s Dota 2?

Previous Chapters:

Oct 27 2014: 01 The Wardmaster

Jan 02 2015: 02 The Fogwards Express

Jan 09 2015: 03 The Shuffling

Jan 22 2015: 04 The First Blood

Jan 30 2015: 05 The Juking Lesson

Feb 25 2015: 06 The Mirror of Atod

Mar 25 2015: 07 The International

Jun 25 2015: The Bottle of Fire

——————-

Fogwards Great Hall

Everyone in the Hall had finished eating, yet nobody had left. Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions for each of their Dota houses.

“Is that IceFrog up there?” Ron asked, gesturing at the professors’ table, where a cloaked figure sat at the end, his face obscured by a hood.

“I don’t know,” said Hermione. “Don’t you think it’s kind of strange that we’ve been at this school for two years and still haven’t seen his face or heard his voice?”

Ron shrugged. Jacky and Shane were not paying attention. Harry looked to his left, meeting Malfho’s gaze, who promptly flipped Harry off.

“I hope Demon doesn’t get chosen,” Harry sighed.

“Don’t worry Harry, no second year has ever been selected by the Bottle of Fire,” said Hermione.

The hooded figure slowly stood. All noise in the Hall died immediately. Professors Finol, Bruno, and V1lat looked tense. Professor 2GD stared daggers at Harry. Wardmaster Ghannam continued to eat with his hands.

“IceFrog is going to speak!” Ron said excitedly.

As IceFrog lifted a parchment which presumably contained the house champion names, every student in the room held his or her breath. IceFrog casually handed the list to Finol.

Finol cleared his throat. The students straightened.

“The champion of house GяўffiйdФr…” he declared, voice loud and stern, “is Dendi.”

A chorus of “davais!” greeted Danil, who raised his hands and walked forward, smiling, to stand at the front of the Hall.

“You may now pick your support.”

“Pick your support?” Harry asked.

“Each champion is allowed to pick another player from any house to be their support during the International competition,” Hermione answered immediately. “It’s a position of great honor.”

Dendi scanned the room and selected a young second year named Akbar.

Finol nodded and continued. “The champion for Ravencleu is S4.”

Gustav did not look surprised at all, but managed a small smile. He selected a large Swedish third year named Henrik. The Ravencleu section of the Hall cheered.

“That’s Bulldog!” said Ron, excitedly. “He was the best in his year at split pushing. I watch all his replays.”

Henrik walked past Harry’s table, winking at Hermione on his way up to the front.

After the Ravencleu students quieted down, Finol announced the representative for 中国PUFF, a sixth year known as Burning, who chose his old friend Bai Fan as his support.

The last champion to be announced was SlitheriNA, Harry’s old house.

“Fear!” declared Finol, pointing at a bearded man near the back of the hall. Fear rose slowly, put on his sponsor jacket, and walked forward.

Harry saw Malfho puff up expectantly.

“Hey Fear, if you need a support, I’m…” Malfho paused for emphasis, “free to play.”

Fear immediately selected Arteezy as his support and Malfho slumped back into his chair.

“I don’t play support and I’m not even in your house dude,” said Artour, baby rage evident. “We lost.”

“Thus concludes the selection ceremony,” Finol said. But just as he began to take the Bottle of Fire away, it spat out another piece of parchment.

Finol bent over to pick up, opened it, and his confused eyes glanced nervously around the room.

“Harry Potter,” he whispered.

—

Ravencleu Common Room

Harry had spent his first and second years building up an immunity to negative attention. He had even grown somewhat accustomed to it. But the ire and resentment directed toward him after his name had been uttered by Finol as an unprecedented fifth champion in this year’s Fogwards International was extraordinary.

“Gustav and the house’s sixth years hate me for getting the spot that rightfully should only belong to him,” said Harry. “The other houses hate me because they think I bought fake MMR.”

Harry sighed. “Even Ron hates me because I didn’t pick him as my support.”

Ron had left the ceremony and remained in his room, refusing to talk to Harry ever since he selected Jacky Mao as his support.

“I still don’t know why you picked Jacky over him,” said Hermione. “He’s our friend and he tries hard, but lets face it, he’s not the most talented Dota player.”

Harry thought back to the moment of choice.

“I don’t even know why I did it, this voice inside my head just kept telling me to pick him.” Harry tried to remember, but couldn’t, as if the thought was shrouded in dark fog.

Jacky, of course, was delighted. He had already run to the library to study new spells and techniques to use in the competition, which officially began in two days. He stacked books and books of Dota knowledge and carried them back to his room.

“Can you talk to him?” Harry asked.

“I already tried, he said he ‘refuses to talk to a backstabber’ and locked his door.” Hermione made a sympathetic face. “He’ll get over it.”

“Do you want to help me prepare for the competition?” Harry knew no student as well versed in Dota as Hermione.

“I’m sorry Harry, but I can’t.” Hermione hesitated, looking nervous. “I was officially hired by Ravencleu as their coach. Bulldog asked me this morning. We start today.”

“I am truly alone,” said Harry with a hint of despair.

“You’re not alone Harry!” Jacky said. “You have me!”

I am fucked. Harry thought. He saw the other students staring, eyes angry.

Enemies all around me, these idiot students and their snide comments. They dismiss me before the competition even starts.

I’ll prove them wrong.

I’ll win, no matter what it takes.

He set off with Jacky to study.





