Harry Potter and Other People's Plans

by Maeve (Liz_060)

Summary:

Harry's adventures in the Magical World continue with the exoneration of his Godfather and burgeoning relationship with both Sirius and Remus, the Quidditch World Cup and a big announcement at Hogwarts.

Harry will find himself at the mercy of other people and their plans more than once, as he navigates a tournament designed to test him and the rebirth of the Dark Lord.

Harry and Severus grow closer much to the irritation of some and the delight of others and Draco encounters a dragon trainer (again).

 

Edit - I promised to include a recap before the beginning of this story and I forgot to post it. I have added it at the start of the first chapter it is only very brief but hopefully it is enough to help you remember the story so far.

Notes:

Hello,
I promised to have the first chapter of this posted by the end of January and despite being distracted by shiny new things I have just scraped in.

I am not as far along with this as I had hoped to be, so I am afraid updates might be slow as I get back into the swing of life. Summer is not quite done here, it is going out with a bang, and I am still recovering from a summer bout of COVID and other mishaps.

I am hoping to have updates at least monthly for a bit until I get back into a routine.

As always thank you for reading.

Love Maeve ✨💚✨

Chapter 1: New Beginnings

 

The story so far - 

 

Harry is not the boy Albus expected he is cunning, clever and self-sufficient. He has learned to take care of himself with the help of his primary school tutor Miss Daniels. 

Arriving at Hogwarts he is sorted into Slytherin and slips out of Albus grasp as he is taken in by the Malfoys. He learns he is betrothed to Severus and he doesn't mind at all. 

Severus despite his misgivings becomes fond of Harry and he wants the young man to know the truth about his family even James Potter he begins to think about the events around the betrayal of the Potters and the role of Sirus Black

Harry forges a tentative alliance with the Dark Lord when he helps him steal the Philosopher's Stone from under Dumbledore’s nose. 

The story ends with Neville and  Ron injured in an attempt to save the stone from Voldemort while Harry’s involvement goes unnoticed by everyone except Severus and the Dark Lord.

 

In book two The Dark Lord begins plans for his return to the Wizarding world. Ten years existing in the forest of Albania has given him time to think and when he learns that Harry might be trustworthy he plans to return and try to push his agender politically. 

Arthur Weasley Muggle Protection Act forces Lucius to hide some artefacts but things don't go to plan when Harry keeps a certain diary rather than locking it safely in his vault. The diary eventually ends up in the hands of Ginny Weasley and the Basilik begins attacking students. Harry knows it is his fault and he tries to retrieve the diary.

The Dark Lord is still the Dark Lord despite his plans of fighting for legitimate change and old habits die hard. When he discovers that his first Horcrux is in the possession of Ginny Weasely and the school is besieged by the Basilik he can't help but get involved. When his servant Augustus Rookwood returns to him he has the means to interfere.

Harry is revealed to be a Parseltongue in Lockhart’s duelling club and is immediately suspected of being the Heir of Slytherin. Harry is shunned and feared by the whole school except for his Slytherin dormmates. Albus calls in the Unspeakables to deal with the Chamber and naturally, Rookwood accepts the job.

Harry, still feeling responsible for the events can't quite let it go.  He goes to the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny and discovers a young Tom Riddle trying to use Ginny to form a body and the older Tom is actively encouraging him. Harry refuses to deal with two Tom’s and uses his control over the Basilisk to force the older Tom to take his diary and leave. 

Ginny is saved but not unscathed by her experience and she is immediately withdrawn from Hogwarts by her horrified parents.

Harry, despite actually being involved this time, is still far from the hero Albus is hoping he will be. He manages to pass that honour to the unspeakable Augustus Rookwood and Albus still does not have an acceptable Boy who lived to push onto the Wizarding World.

 

In book three Severus has convinced Luicus that Sirus Black is probably not responsible for the Dark Lord finding the Potters. Harry’s lawyer Magarite Saari looks into the case and is set to have Sirius Black exonerated and released from prison when he escapes and goes after Peter Pettigrew. 

The man who was the real secret keeper and betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord. He is hiding with the Weasely family in his rat form. He makes his way to the school and enlists the help of Crookshanks in his search for the rat.

Harry develops his divination skills despite his unsatisfactory classes with Professor Trelawney when he is haunted by images of a big black dog and a rat all year 

Remus Lupin arrives to teach Defence and Harry discovers that his dad was the bully he feared he was and he rejects Lupin's offer to talk about him. However, nothing is ever simple and Harry finds that he does want to know about his dad - James Potter.

When Harry successfully casts a patronus and discovers the link between his stag and James Potter it forces a conversation with Severus which reassures Harry about his place in Severus’  life.

The Dark Lord creates an alias and makes his first foray back into the Ministry of Magic as Monsieur Maël Rideau a divination expert brought in to assist in the search for Sirius Black.

The story ends with Pettigrew escaping and going back to the Dark Lord where his welcome is not quite as warm as he had hoped. Meanwhile, Black is taken to Malfoy Manor where plans are made to finally clear his name.

 

 

 

Now on with the story-

 

The day of the funeral was bright and clear, all the villagers agreed that it could not have been a better day to see off old Frank Bryce. The man had been something of a local celebrity after all; his brush with the law and clever escape from being charged with murder had made him a legend in some people’s minds.

 It was common knowledge he had killed the Riddle Family and gotten away with it. No one knew how he had done it but he had, everyone knew it. Though there were also whispers of something darker, most people agreed Frank had done it.

Therefore, it was a surprise to everyone that the man calling himself  Mssr Maël Rideau and claiming to be a relative of the Riddle family, would make an appearance at the funeral. Beatrice Mayfield was old enough to remember the Riddle family, she had been a young woman, newly married to Frank Bryce’s best friend James Mayfield at the time of their deaths. Mrs Mayfield confided to her nieces Jane Berrycloth and Mary Dankworth that the new Lord of the Manor looked eerily like young Tom Riddle. 

Thomas Riddle junior had been a very handsome young man, though a little fickle people said. Everyone had thought him on the verge of asking Mr Rosenberg’s permission to court his daughter Abigail when he had vanished without a trace. One day he was there and the next he was gone. His parents had been very tight-lipped about it insisting stoically that Tom was away working and that he would be back soon.

Whatever the truth was it was excellent gossip fodder for almost a whole year; then one day Tom Riddle Junior came back. No explanation for his disappearance was ever given. Abigail Rosenberg married Michael Jones a month before Tom’s reappearance, and no mention was ever made of the courtship that never happened. Life simply went on.

It was said in the village that young Tom had never been right again after his disappearance. ‘Disturbed,’ the village nurse had whispered to her husband, the local doctor. The practise receptionist, who would never deliberately listen at doors, had been terribly shocked and she had only repeated it to her sister to get it off her chest. The whisper made its way through the village but was never spoken of in the light of day.

In the aftermath of Frank Bryce’s release,  it was suggested,  that young Mr Riddle might have murdered his parents and then killed himself. He had been away for almost a year and he might have been anywhere. He could have been in South America with access to all the untraceable poisons everyone knew could be purchased there. 

Why he had waited so many years to kill his parents was never spoken of; it was not polite, after all, to speak of the afflictions which sometimes affected the aristocracy. Knowing looks had passed among the villages but lips had been sealed. 

Whatever occurred in the past; Mssr Rideau belonged to the present and he was quite the enigma. The funeral was the first time he had been seen in the village so naturally, everyone was curious. The man was tall but not too tall, and he wore a well-tailored suit which fit his trim figure like a glove and was most certainly not bought off the rack.

Adding fuel to the gossip fire was the fact that Mssr Rideau had not come alone; he was in the company of an older man. The second man wore a dark pinstripe suit, which was a little old-fashioned, but still perfectly respectable. He was taller and broader than Mssr Rideau and Beatrice Mayfield declared him to have the look of one of those security officers rich people hired these days. 

Frank Bryce had never mentioned a security guard, he had mentioned a secretary who worked for the Master. Though Frank had never mentioned the name of any young woman, (a secretary would obviously have been a woman), however, she did not appear at the funeral and she was not a local. 

Still, it was good of the young master to come, people said, and very kind of him to bring a nice wreath of white carnations for poor Frank. It was generally agreed that Mssr Rideau would be looking for a new gardener; so it was only natural for him to come along and mix with the locals. It would give him a chance to get to know some of the villagers.

Tom Riddle stood stiffly beside Rookwood and tried not to listen to the whispers about him. It was Rookwood’s job to do that, he was simply there to pay his respects to his gardener. There had been an inquest; Tom had been annoyed with Rookwood’s insistence on involving the Muggle authorities but conceded, that if he wanted a new gardener it might be best if there was no mysterious disappearance linked to the job.

The funeral seemed like a good opportunity to check out possible employees; Rookwood had told him it would be bad form to ask if any gardeners were looking for work, while at the funeral of his gardener. However, when he overheard Mrs Mayfield lamenting the lack of employment opportunities for young people in the village; he gave the woman several of his cards and asked her to pass them along to anyone who might be interested in a gardening job. Rookwood had recently obtained a new muggle communication device for him and the card had his name and number printed on it. By the time he got home, he had five messages from people enquiring about the job.

The messages were all very well, but Tom had no idea how to use the device to talk to anyone, so he passed it to Rookwood and asked him to organise a new gardener. “There are a couple of older gentlemen I would prefer to employ,” he mused, stirring his tea. “I need someone well-versed in village gossip who is willing to pass on whatever is being spoken about,” he instructed.

Rookwood refrained from rolling his eyes. “I understand My Lord. However, it will be difficult to explain your newly acquired house elves to a muggle employee,” Rookwood said patiently. “Perhaps, someone younger who would be comfortably able to stay outside in the gardener’s shed all day might be better?”

“No, that is no good Rookwood, I cannot be seen sitting outside in the garden shed to get the gossip. No, he has to come inside, the elves will know when to make themselves scarce. Peter, or Barty when he arrives, can act as the butler and serve his lunch in the kitchen,” Tom argued.

Augustus opened his mouth to remind his Lord that Barty had been in Azkaban for twelve years and Peter had been a rat for the same amount of time. Thus their social skills might not be up to an acceptable standard; unfortunately, their discussion was interrupted by a commotion in the reception room. The two men rose quickly leaving their coffee on the table they went to investigate. 

When they arrived at the scene of the commotion, they saw a bundle of shabby robes and a travelling cloak lying in a pile on the floor in front of the floo.  A house elf was standing over the pile looking indignant. “Sir didn’t wait for permission to come through, Master,” the elf squeaked crossly. 

Tom moved closer to the bundle at this exclamation from his elf and lifted the hood of the cloak, which was covering the face of the intruder, a satisfied expression appeared on the handsome face.

“Well done, Nippy,” Tom told the elf. “We’ll take it from here. Augustus, help our guest to his feet.” 

The elf clicked his fingers and vanished back to the kitchen while Rookwood helped Barty Crouch Jr to his feet. 

 

Peter Pettigrew sat on his bed and sulked. It was not fair that he had been treated as a traitor on his return to the Dark Lord. He supposed he could understand how his Lord might think he had betrayed him but surely his actions spoke for themselves. He had lived as a rat for years with the Weaselys of all people for twelve years waiting and listening for any sign of his Lord’s return. Surely that had to count for something.

Rookwood had cast anti-animagus wards on the hallway outside of his room, so he could not get out. He had been in the room for almost a week, at least he thought it was about a week; he was not very sure as the days had begun to blur. Three times a day an elf popped into his room with a food tray; as far as prisons went this was not a bad one.  His inner rat at least, was quite happy with the arrangement,  Peter, however, was not happy with his treatment.

He’d had plenty of time to work up quite an impressive, righteous indignation; he had done nothing wrong. It was not his fault that Lily had done something to protect her son. It could be argued perhaps that as a spy he ought to have known but Lily had been sneaky; not even James had known and Fleamont Potter bordered on paranoid with his security measures. A fact which still irked Peter.

Despite his predicament, Peter had not gone off his food and he was sleeping better than he had since Sirius Black had first escaped from Azkaban. He still had information for his Lord and he would deliver it just as soon as he had the opportunity. In the meantime, he would sit and stew.

 

Courtroom five was fairly quiet, the calm before the storm, Harry thought as he shifted in his seat. Considering that the hearing which was about to start had the potential to ruin the Ministry’s credibility, people were very calm and measured in their movements.

Minister Fudge had tried to get the whole Sirius Black thing swept under the rug; he had even proposed quietly removing the most wanted order and pushing an equally quiet pardon through the Wizengamot at a later stage. Unfortunately for Fudge, Counsellor Margarite Saari had not been interested in sparing the Ministry any humiliation. 

If she had been acting on the orders of anyone but Lucius Malfoy and Harry Potter, Fudge would simply have squashed it; as it was, it was too big a risk. If Lucius went to the press there would be a free-for-all-all, and families of Death Eaters would all come forward demanding their family members' trials be reexamined it would be a nightmare.

Fudge himself had taken on the responsibility for informing those who needed to know about the trial; the notifications for the hearing had only gone out three days prior and the witness list had been more than halved by Ministerial decree. 

Minister Fudge had hoped that the short notice would mean fewer people would be in attendance, which would mean fewer people knowing what had happened and hopefully less chance of leaks to the press but he had no such luck. The fierce debate in the Wizengamot Chamber led to every member of the Wizegamot turning up for the hearing including the Chief Warlock.

Lucius knew that Fudge had wanted to avoid a full hearing in light of recent Ministry leaks and he was privately very pleased with Fudge’s predicament. Over the past three months, information from several closed court proceedings was published in The DailyProphet. Fudge’s position as Minister was tenuous enough that he could not afford the furore which would erupt if the situation regarding Sirius Black became public knowledge. However, Fudge could not clear the Ministry of any wrongdoing without a trial no matter what he tried to do to cover it up. 

Sitting in the courtroom between his father and his betrothed Harry began to wonder about the workings of the Ministry. He had developed an interest in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement over the days leading up to Sirius’ trial and he wondered not for the first time if a career in law might suit him. 

Finally, the court was called to order by a plump woman dressed in all pink; Harry did not like the look of her. The court was ordered to rise as the members of the Wizengamot filed in. Harry noted it seemed to be almost a full house; only a few seats were empty and Luicus whispered that those seats were currently unclaimed. Harry wondered which of them was his seat.

When the Minister and Madam Bones had taken their seats, everyone sat down again and the back door opened. Sirius was brought in by two red-robed aurors one of whom Harry recognised as Kingsley Shacklebolt. Miss Saari stood up at her table as her client was secured in the dock. 

“If it pleases the court,” Miss Saari announced in her clear stern tone, “the defence moves to have all charges against Sirius Orion Black dropped due to a lack of evidence.”

Cornelius Fudge nearly choked on his next breath as he blustered about the court not pleasing at all, he was interrupted by Madam Bones who replied to the counsellor's request. 

“What evidence do you have of your client's innocence counsellor?” she asked.

“I think Madam Bones,” Margarite said with a grin “…it more what you do not have. This is the file from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's own records which contains no trial transcript, no decree from the Ministry of the day and no evidence against my client.” she announced to the gasps of the members of Wizengamot. 

Margarite gave them a moment to mutter before she continued.  “I also have the memory of two separate conversations regarding the events which took place on the night of October 31st 1981.” Margarite Saari replied. 

Amelia sighed, she knew very well how this would go now. “Very well, the court acknowledges the empty file and refers the esteemed members of the Wizengamot to the copy of my report given in the Wizengamot chambers on the 17th of June 1994. The court further requests you present the memories for viewing. Are the owners of those memories in the court?” 

“Yes, Madam Bones, Heir Harry Potter, Professor Severus Snape and  Madam Amelia Bones are present in the court,” she replied. 

Whispering broke out around the courtroom and Harry looked around at the members of the Wizengamot who were present as they discussed the propriety of such a thing. Amelia banged her gavel and called for order. “Thank you, Counsellor Saari, I must now recuse myself from the role of Officer of the Court due to my being a material witness in this case. I cede my seat to my Deputy, Head Auror Gawain Robards,” she informed the court.

Amelia stood and moved from her seat allowing the Head Auror to take her place while she moved to the witness seats next to Lucius. The court was called back to order and Unspeakable Levi Stanley was called to present Harry’s memory of the night Peter Pettigrew was caught in the Shrieking Shack.  

Harry closed his eyes as the memory played, he had no desire to see the rat escape a second time, and he was surprised when the memory ended quicker than he expected; he had not realised it had been such a short time, less than ten minutes, it had seemed so much longer at the time. Harry opened his eyes and watched Severus' view of the same memory. 

It was odd watching the events unfold through Severus’ eyes, the older man had focused on different things, and he had studied Peter Pettigrew much more closely than Harry had done. He had also looked more carefully at Ron Weasely whose image had been blurred due to the Minister wiping him from the list of witnesses; Hermione and Remus had also been blurred. 

When the memories ended Harry was called to the witness stand. 

Harry raised his hand when requested and swore to tell the truth.  He was glad knew exactly what would happen. He had practised telling his story with Miss Saari and his father, and he had practised answering some questions which might be asked of him. He was ready for anything or so he thought. At the end of his testimony, the lawyer for the Ministry asked some simple questions which Harry answered easily then the floor was opened to the members of the Wizengamot. Harry had not expected any questions unfortunately one person stood - Albus Dumbledore. 

“Harry my boy,” the old man said genially. His eyes twinkled. 

Miss Saari stood immediately “Officer Robards, I object to my client being addressed in such a manner in this court. Mr Potter is the Heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black he is due some respect.”

Robards looked at the Headmaster, he was going to enjoy taking the old man down a peg. “Indeed Counsellor. The Chief Warlock is reminded this is a court of law and as such that means of address to a witness, especially an Heir, is not appropriate. You will address the witness as Mr Potter or Heir Potter.”

Dumbledore looked annoyed but he continued “My apologies, Officer Robards,” he said smoothly. “Mr Potter,” he went on looking back to Harry. “Can you explain how you came to be in the Shrieking Shack to witness this extraordinary event?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered. I was on my way back to my dorm after my Divination exam and I saw a rat being chased by a cat and a dog. I went and got Professor Snape and we went after them. We followed them to the Shrieking Shack and that is when I witnessed the events you just saw in my memory.”

Dumbledore smiled, “You got Professor Snape and still got to the Shack in time to see these events?”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied. 

“I find it very hard to believe you managed this alone,” Dumbledore went on.

“I err..” Harry looked at Margarite who was already on her feet. 

“Officer Robards, I must stop my client there. The Chief Warlock is very well aware that the identities of two underage student witnesses and one vulnerable adult witness have been suppressed by the Minister for Magic to protect their privacy. The Chief Warlock is asking my client to give inadmissible evidence.”

Robards nodded and glared at Dumbledore. “Chief Warlock, I should not have to remind you of the laws governing these hearings. If I have to speak to you again as a matter of order I will have you removed. I remind you that you have no vote as Chief Warlock and as such do not need to be here,” Robards said sternly.

“My apologies,” Dumbledore muttered, looking murderous.  “Heir Potter, what made you go and get Professor Snape when you saw the animals running through the castle?” 

“One of them was a black dog, which my father and lawyer had determined might be associated with Sirius Black also I recognised the rat and the cat as being the missing pets of two other students who I knew had been looking for them,” Harry replied. 

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” Albus said, sounding a bit disappointed. He knew he would not get away with digging any further into the circumstances around Harry’s involvement in this incident. He was furious that Severus had rescued the students and even more annoyed that the memory modifications of Ron and Hermione had been retrospectively authorised by Fudge. 

Severus was called next to tell his story which he did without any further questions being asked. Then Amelia’s memory of Harry’s conversation with Sirius Black was shown and Albus Dumbldore finally had something to smile about. The interaction between Harry and his godfather had been excellent. Maybe Sirius being exonerated would not be a complete disaster. If he could just get Sirius on his side, he might get Harry to follow.

The Wizengamot voted unanimously to dismiss all charges against Sirius Black and released him into the custody of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.  Albus was not pleased with this arrangement. It did not bode well for his plan; surely Sirius would not be happy living with the Malfoys perhaps he could offer an alternative. He was sure Severus would be willing to carry a letter to Black. 

There was a small chance people might see Sirius’ incarceration as being his fault because it was of course. He had meant for Sirius to die in Azakaban but not only had the wretched man survived he had escaped, was exonerated and now he could tell his story.

Albus would have to get to the man first but that was going to be difficult with him living with the Malfoys. He could play on old rivalries. No doubt Black still hated Severus and vice versa it might even be a way to remove Harry from Severus' influence.

The court adjourned and Albus moved quickly to try and catch  Harry and Severus; unfortunately, he only caught a glimpse of their backs as they were escorted from the courtroom to the atrium floo. He would have to wait and corner Severus at Hogwarts. 

 

“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” a voice called from beside him. He turned and saw the bright smiling face of Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Bagman was an idiot; whoever decided it was a good idea to make him the head of any Department was a fool.

“Mr Bagman,” he intoned. Whatever this was Albus was sure he did not have time for it. 

Then a second voice which sounded rather put out caught Albus' attention. “Ludo, I told you to wait until I could arrange a proper meeting with the Headmaster.”

Albus watched as Bartemius Crouch Sr hurried over to them; he was looking a little worse for wear though Albus was not surprised about that, the recent deaths of his wife and son must be hitting him hard. Still, he could not for the life of him think what these two gentlemen would want with him and he was curious.

“As it happens I have a few minutes,” he said benevolently. “If you have some time of course,” he offered, looking at Crouch.

Bagman looked like he was going to burst and Crouch knew it was best to get this over with before the Prophet got wind of anything.  He cast his Patronus and sent it to Weatherby, his new assistant,  instructing him to reschedule his next appointment and have his office clear when he arrived in a few minutes. Ludo Bagman was going to be the death of him, he was sure; as if the Quidditch World Cup was not enough to plan for, Ludo just had to push this ridiculous idea to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament.

“Alright,” Crouch huffed as his Patronus disappeared. “We'll meet in my office.”

 

Dinner was a silent affair that night at Malfoy Manor. Harry sat between Draco and  Severus directly across from his mother who was seated next to her husband and her newly released cousin, Lupin was beside Sirius, the two men had been given adjoining suites in the guest wing of the house and Narcissa had seen to it that all their belongings, which was not that much, were moved into their rooms. 

Sirius had requested a chance to talk with Harry alone but he had been rebuffed by Harry himself. The young man insisted he would only meet with Sirius in the presence of one of his guardians. The man had not been happy but Lupin had stepped in and reminded him that Harry did not know him very well yet and was entitled to have someone with him.

Sirius had been unhappy but he accepted Harry’s terms and agreed to a supervised meeting the next day with both Remus and Narcissa present. Harry was glad he knew that Sirius was going to St. Mungos soon and he wanted to talk before then.

Harry and Severus were due to spend the evening together according to the betrothal contract requirements which had been negotiated by Severus and Lucius prior to Black's trial. However, by mutual agreement, their meetings were indefinitely postponed until Black was admitted to St Mungo's. Narcissa was adamant the knowledge would do her cousin no good at all in his current state and Severus did not want to further strain Harry's relationship with his Godfather.

Therefore after dinner, Severus bid Harry a good night in the sitting room and removed himself to his office; where Remus Lupin found him several hours later.

“Severus,” Lupin said, knocking on the frame of the open door.

“Lupin, come in, what can I do for you?” Severus asked. The werewolf still scared him but he was determined not to let that show. 

“Thank you, would you mind if I closed the door? This matter is somewhat delicate.” Lupin asked. He was looking a little worse for wear, the stress of Sirius' trial and the approaching full moon were taking a toll.

Severus paused, he was not thrilled with the idea of being trapped in a room with the wolf. However, he gave a sharp nod and waited while the other man closed the door and sat down.

Lupin took a moment to settle his mind before he met Severus' dark eyes. “I find myself in need of your help,” he began. “I believe that I am missing memories; there are things I feel I should know but can find no trace of a memory. For example, your position as Harry’s guardian should have come as a shock to me. Yet, it did not. I have this feeling that it is something that I knew but I don't know how I know.”

Severus sat back in his seat and considered the man opposite him. “You signed Lily’s will, I would have assumed you had some idea of the contents - though that is not a requirement of course,” he replied.

Lupin nodded. “Yes, but the thing is I do remember signing her will but I have a feeling that there were conversations to which I was a party, that I do not recall. It's like something inside me expects there to be certain information but when I try to recall it - it isn't there,” he explained.

Snape steepled his fingers and considered what Lupin had described. “You said in the Shack you believed you were obliviated, by Pettigrew,” he said slowly. “Do you know if he studied mind magic at all?”

“I don't believe so, unless…” Lupin looked pained. 

“Unless?” Severus pressed.

“Well, would…er…you know who, have taught him?” Lupin asked.

“It’s unlikely he would have taught him personally however, he may have encouraged him to learn. Pettigrew was friendly with Barty Crouch as I recall,” Severus said.

“He was, do you think? I mean was Barty a Death Eater?” Lupin asked with a frown.

Snape raised his eyebrow, “Not all death eaters were Slytherin,” he said pointedly. 

Lupin had the grace to look abashed. “Of course not I just…I would not have thought Barty…” 

“Barty Crouch junior was a Death Eater and he was one of the people sent to Azkaban without a trial. Snape informed him.

Lupin looked appalled. “There were others?” he whispered. 

“Oh yes, why do you think Fudge was so desperate to cover up Black’s release and exoneration? This could open the floodgates for families of incarcerated death eaters, to call for their loved ones' cases to be reopened,” Snape told him.

Remus' eyes went wide with surprise. “Merlin, I had no idea. I was away, with the werewolves when all of this happened. Why was Barty arrested?”

“He was arrested with the Lestranges, Bellatrix and Rudolphus and he was accused of being present when they tortured the Longbottoms into madness. It was Barty Crouch Senior who sent him to Azkaban, without a trial and declared that he was no longer his son. The boys' mother was never the same afterwards.” Snape informed him.

“Was he guilty?” Lupin asked. 

“I don’t know," Severus admitted. "He was named by…an informant who bought his release by naming previously unnamed death eaters including me. At the time of the attack, I was in Azkaban. I spent a few days there before Albus arranged my release by testifying that I had defected to the light prior to the attack on the Potters,” Severus said with the air of one who knew he was dropping a bomb.

“Albus, had you released?” Lupin asked slowly. 

“Yes, he did,” Severus acknowledged, with an air of casual indifference.

Lupin absorbed that information and Severus gave him some time to think about it.

“I see,” he said finally. Then he brought the conversation back to the original request. “Well, about my memories do you think it is possible to recover them?”

“I can try,” he said slowly.  “If Pettigrew is skilled in the art of memory magics then I may not be able to help. However, obliviate is a spell which requires precision and skill and it is not enough on its own; the fact you are aware of gaps in your memory and you have feelings connected to your missing memories is encouraging. It means that while you have had memories removed the surrounding memories have not been modified. We may be able to rebuild your memory from what is left,” Severus explained.

“You can rebuild memories?” Lupin asked in surprise.

“It is possible, but perhaps it would be best to wait until after Mr Black is in treatment. It will take a lot out of you and perhaps he needs you more at the moment,” Severus suggested. 

“Alright, yes, you're right Sirius needs me. Severus…when he’s well I am sure he will understand what you've done for him and I hope the two of you…”

“Black and I will never be friends, Lupin. I am not even sure you and I can be friends,” Severus said firmly cutting across the man’s sentiment.

Lupin looked inexplicably sad. “Because of my wolf?” 

“No, because you do not have all your memories yet and when you do…well let’s just say I know Black will be unhappy about certain things,” he said cryptically. 

Lupin frowned as he thought for a few moments about what Severus might mean. “I have a feeling you’re right, I just wish I knew why,” he said softly. “I should go and check on Sirius. Thank you, Severus.”

“Save your thanks until you have your memories Lupin,” he replied. 

Remus gave the man another sad look but he nodded as if accepting his words and left the room.

 

Harry had pulled the chair in his room over to the window again. He was irritated by Severus' absence from the sitting room after dinner, so he had also excused himself; retreating to his bedroom to watch the shadows stretch over the gardens as the sunset. The Malfoy’s garden was a magical place full of perfectly trimmed trees and immaculate lawns with carefully designed flower beds. In summer the albino peacocks and the other birds who lived in the garden would be out looking for insects or bugs. 

Tonight though Harry’s thoughts were occupied with Sirius Black. Harry knew it was because of Sirius and Remus that Severus had locked himself away in his office and he had tried to be understanding but it was difficult. Severus was important to Harry and he did not want to lose out on time with him because Sirus might come across them together; it was strange knowing that his Godfather was a free man and as such had free reign to wander around the Manor. It had been easier knowing that he was locked in the cellar. 

Sirius and Remus had been installed in guest rooms on the other side of the Manor, as far away from Harry and Severus as possible. It had been a revelation for Harry, to realise that the two men were in a relationship and that his father had known about it. It gave him hope that James would have been ok with Harry being gay too, even if he still hated Severus.

Tomorrow he would be meeting with them both and it was one of the things he wanted to ask them, if not tomorrow then eventually. Harry wanted to talk to Sirius he really did but he was nervous. He did not want to deal with the man telling him his family were evil and that he needed to get away from them. The Malfoys had given Harry the first proper home he had ever had and they were the only parents he had ever known; he hoped he would not have to choose between them and his Godfather. 

Black had tried that several times already and Harry hated it. His mother had explained that Sirius was stuck in the past because of his years in Azkaban. Sirius had no idea about what had happened to Harry at his relative's place. The worst thing though was the man’s unwavering belief that Albus Dumbledore was trustworthy and that Harry should leave the manor and go to him.

Narcissa had told Harry it would take time and the right medication for Sirius to be able to accept the truth. He knew that going to St. Mungo’s was the best thing for his Godfather, but that did not stop the longing feeling which had been growing inside his chest since the night in the Shrieking Shack. 

That feeling warred with the guilt he felt over wanting to know about James Potter when he knew how Severus felt about the man. Severus had encouraged Harry to speak with Black and to hear about his family but Harry was also a little bit scared to hear what Sirius might say. 

It all rested on whatever had occurred between Severus and the Mauraders when they were at school. He was certain his father and Sirius had been bullies. Lupin he was not sure about but if he had not actively participated he had stood by and watched; which was objectively worse in Harry’s mind.

In the dungeon, Black had tried to convince Harry that Severus had given him a potion to trick him. He had encouraged Harry to run to Dumbledore. If Black believed the headmaster had Harry’s best interests at heart then the was no way they could have any kind of relationship.

Closing his eyes he rested his head on the window sill and hoped that in the morning he was feeling braver than he was right now.

Chapter 2: Plans in the making

Summary:

Dreams of Tom cause Harry some trouble as unbeknown to all, Tom and Albus make plans.

Harry meets with Sirius before he goes to St Mungo's and Sirius hears some things he would rather not have known.

Notes:

Look at this, it has only been two weeks! Let's see how I go with maintaining this pace. ✨💚✨

 

 

Harry thrashed in his bed and whimpered in his sleep; someone was screaming but it was not Lily. It was a man, and he was in pain; he was being hurt, and Harry had to do something, but he was stuck, unable to move. Harry fought against whatever was holding him down, stopping him from reaching the person who was being hurt. Then, suddenly, he was awake.

 

It was very early, and daylight was beginning to filter through the gap in his curtains. Harry was surprised to find himself tucked firmly into his bed; his last memory was of sitting at the window. He looked towards the window; his chair was still pulled up to the wall just as it had been last night when he had put his head down on his folded arms and closed his eyes. 

 

Pushing the mystery of how he came to be in his bed aside he tried to focus on the dream which had woken him. It was not the first time he’d had this dream; he had the same dream several times since the summer began. 

 

Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the details of the dream; there had been screaming and a man he did not recognise had been there. He squeezed his eyes tighter but trying to keep the images in his mind was like trying to keep water from slipping through his fingers and he couldn't hold on to them.

 

It was frustrating not being able to remember. Then, a thought struck him, maybe his mirror could help him. Sitting up he pulled his scrying mirror out of the bedside drawer and unwrapped it then he closed his eyes and focused on the screaming.

 

When he opened his eyes and looked into the mirror, the image came quickly. A man was hanging in the air, held up by his arms but he did not seem to be attached to anything. Harry did not recognise him but then he could only see the man’s back. 

 

He needed more information so he moved his focus past the screaming man to the man in the armchair which was facing him. It took a moment but an image of an unglamoured Tom Riddle came into view; Tom was torturing someone but Harry still could not see who.

 

Suddenly the spell holding the unfortunate man was released and he fell to the ground, and he was not moving, Harry was not sure if he was alive or dead, and he found he did not care in the slightest. 

 

It was disturbing on some level that he was watching this man suffer with complete indifference to his plight and he wondered whose eyes he was watching though. It was not Tom this time because he was looking at Tom. Harry was still contemplating how it was that he was seeing this scene when there was a loud bang. The door burst open and a muggle man limped into the room, yelling and waving a knife. It appeared as if he had a bad leg, so he was not moving very quickly. 

 

Annoyance surged through Harry, and the view of the room changed as whoever’s mind Harry was in stood up, raising Harry’s viewpoint. He glanced down at the body he was occupying and realised he was in Nagini’s head. The snake had raised her entire body off the floor and was preparing to strike at the new threat.  

 

Green light burst from the wand in Tom’s hand and the muggle, Harry was certain the man was a muggle, fell to the floor, dead. Harry recognised the green light and the feeling of the killing curse. He was not sure how he recognised it; perhaps it was from when he was a baby but he knew the man was dead.

 

Tom reached out his hand, and Harry slithered towards the man, and he felt Tom’s skeletal hand pat the top of his head affectionately.“It's alright, my love,” Tom soothed gently Augustus will take care of it. Then the image faded.

 

Harry lay back down and thought about what he had seen; Tom was unglamoured and in his house. The man’s snake face suggested that he had still not completed the ritual with the diary…unless…maybe the diary was not enough…was it possible Tom had more than two Horcuxes? If Harry was one and he could watch Tom through Nagini’s eyes maybe the snake was a Horcrux too, and if he had three he could have more…Harry shook his head; he hated how his mind ran away with him.  Pushing the covers back, he climbed out of bed and found some clothes. It was very early, but he needed to see Severus. 

In the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbldore was smiling; he was happier than he had been in the three years since Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts. His conversation with Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch Senior had been invaluable, and he was very pleased he had taken the time to meet with the pair. 

 

The Tri-Wizard Tournament being reinstated after 200 years was just what he needed.

 

Naturally, he had agreed to host the tournament at Hogwarts; it would give him the chance to show off his school on the international stage. He was very proud of his school; it was after all one of the Magical World's premier educational institutions, and his effort towards refining the curriculum and specifically catering to muggle-borns had only improved it.

 

Hogwarts would put on an excellent show; there were several students currently in their seventh year who would do the school proud. Angelina Johnson would be ideal; she was an excellent student and a Gryffindor. Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff, but he was also a good option. Cassius Warrington was certainly talented enough but it would never do to have a Slytherin Champion - unless…unless the Slytherin was Harry Potter.

 

If Harry could compete it would be the perfect way to test the boy's mettle; it would remind the wizarding public just who Harry Potter was and maybe even awaken his inner marauder. Harry was underage; the rules said champions had to be seventeen, which might make things difficult. Harry had more than enough power to win the competition, and Severus could be manipulated into guiding him through the tasks. Fortunately, cheating was a time-honoured part of the tournament. It would require some research but he was sure he could figure out a way to bypass the new age rules. 

 

The Tri-Wizard Cup would be arriving in the next few days; he would have the rest of the summer to examine it and plan out how to enter Harry. He picked up the book Crouch had given him the rules had been rewritten for this new tournament and Albus hoped there were some loopholes to exploit. It only took half an hour to read the book and as he read an idea formed.

 

The Champions would be selected by the Goblet of Fire. Those wishing to compete would place their names into the Goblet, and it would select those most worthy of competing. If he created the protections himself, then it would be simple to ensure that Harry’s name was entered; the challenge would be ensuring his name was selected.

 

Once a Champion was selected, they were bound to compete, and the magic of the Goblet created a binding Magical contract. Albus was not sure if this would be true for a minor. If he was still the boy's magical guardian, it would not matter, but whoever his new guardian was may not be so accommodating. Lucius Malfoy would certainly have something to say about it. He would need to find a way around that, too, perhaps Harry being the chosen one would make a difference. 

 

Albus put the book down; he needed more information; he also needed an ally and a new Defence Teacher. Fortunately, he knew just the Auror for both jobs. He pulled out some parchment and began to compose a letter to his old friend and Order of the Phoenix member Alastor Moody.

Tom leaned back in his chair and smiled a terrifying smile, Rookwood shifted on his knees and worked hard to keep his face blank. The Tri-wizard Tournament could be exactly what he needed to ensure his resurrection was the spectacle it ought to be.

 

The ritual he had found was old and dark; the magic it created was strong, but it was fickle. He would need the most talented of his people involved if it was to be successful. Augustus Severus and Lucius, obviously and perhaps even Barty. The ritual called for bone from his father, the flesh of a servant and the blood of an enemy. 

 

That might be awkward since Harry was not technically an enemy any longer, and he was not even sure if Severus counted as a servant. Of course, it wouldn't do to cut any vital parts off Severus while he was conducting such a finicky ritual in any case.

 

Still, if he could have Harry involved somehow, it would be perfect. The whole Wizarding World believed that Harry would be the one to defeat him. Thanks to Dumbledore, Potter was the ‘Boy who lived.”  So surely using his blood as the blood of the enemy would work, not only would it work,  it would be…poetic. 

 

Truthfully, he had all he needed to complete the ritual right now, Rookwood was more than capable of conducting it. He could cut a hand off Pettigrew, and enemies were easy enough to find. It could be done quietly without fanfare…but what would be the point of that? Resurrecting would be no fun if there was no one there to bear witness to the moment. 

 

Tom sighed and contemplated his options. Rookwood was getting restless, but he would just have to wait, he was not done with the man. Tom glared at him and raised his…well, he didn’t actually have eyebrows at the moment, but the effect was the same; Rookwood settled.

 

If Harry was to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament and win…Tom was certain he could find a way to make that happen. Harry had more than enough power to be competitive and Severus would guide him he would not want the boy hurt, and cheating was traditional.

 

It would be easy enough to get Harry here with a portkey, but how would he get the portkey into the final task? The Triwizard Cup was presented to the winner, he mused. If the cup was a portkey… it could bring the winner here to the Little Hangleton Graveyard.

 

However, he would need someone to turn the cup into a portkey. Severus would help Harry survive the tasks, but he would not further endanger the boy. He eyed the stoic man in front of him. Rookwood would be ideal but he needed him close; he could not afford to send him to Hogwarts for the whole year. 

 

A knock sounded and Tom called for the person to enter. Barty strolled in looking much healthier than when he had arrived; the Dark Lord was struck by a very clever thought: Barty could do it.  He was still not entirely sane but then who was? Barty was perfect for the job. He would follow the instructions given to him, and it would allow him to destroy his father, something Tom knew the young man greatly desired.

 

“My Lord,” Barty said respectfully, dropping to his knees beside Rookwood. “I wondered if I might…” 

 

Tom held up his hand for silence, and Barty instantly stopped waiting for his Lord to speak.

 

The spectre turned to look at Rookwood. “Tell me Augustus, do we know who the new Defence teacher is going to be?” Tom hissed.

 

“No one at present, the Headmaster, is yet to fill the position. As soon as the Minister is informed, I will relay the news,” the taller man promised.

 

“See that you do, Augustussss,” he hissed, and his eyes flicked to Barty as if he intended to move on, but then, almost as an afterthought, he looked back at Rookwood.“How is the search for my new gardener going?” he inquired.

 

“Mr Ezra Fischer will begin work on Monday as you suggested, My Lord,” Rookwood replied 

 

“Perfect. You are dismissed, Augustus,” He said shortly, turning his full attention to the new arrival. “Barty, we have much to discuss…” 

Lucius sat in his office reading over his proposed changes to DMLE operating procedures and the role of Chief Warlock in sentencing. It was a gross misuse of power for a Chief Warlock and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to be able to send people to prison without a trial, war or no war. Lucius wanted the laws tightened and he was sure he could make Fudge see sense on the issue. The man could not afford any more scandals his office had seen too many already. 

 

The changes Lucius was proposing would ensure such things could never happen again. It would create more work for the Wizengamot if everything had to go to trial, but Lucius could not see another way. As things stood, the Chief Warlock and the Head of the DLME had the power to decide something was not worth the Wizengamot's time, and they could only be overruled by the Minister. Which would be alright, except there was no rule forcing either the Chief Warlock or the Head of the DMLE to consult the Minister.

 

The door to his study opened and his personal elf Hobdy entered the room with a tea tray and his newspaper. Lucius thanked the elf without looking up from the parchment he was reading; Hobdy bowed and left the room. 

 

Lucius finished reading through his proposal and turned his attention to the tea tray he had tea at 11:00 every morning and read his paper. Occasionally Narcissa or Severus would join him but today it seemed he was alone. He unfolded his paper and scanned the headlines. 

 

It was all about preparations for the World Cup. The entire Ministry had lost their minds over the ridiculous event and to make matters worse he was expected to attend. Fudge had pulled him into his office the day before and forced four tickets for the Minister’s Box into his hands; at least the boys would be happy. 

 

The tea was almost gone so he cast a Tempus charm,  it was 11:20; he should head to the family sitting room. Narcissa had arranged for Sirius to talk with Harry this morning and he really should be there. The sooner the bloody man was safely in St Mungos the better he thought as he refolded his paper.  

Harry was in such a hurry to get to Severus he did not notice his mother walking towards him as he all but flew past her in the direction of his betrothed rooms. Naturally, the woman followed.

 

Harry skidded to a halt outside of Severus' rooms and took a moment to compass himself before he knocked on the door.  It took a few minutes but finally, the door opened and the man looked out. “Harry,” he said in surprise. “What can I do for you?”

 

“Can I come in?” Harry asked. 

 

Severus hesitated it would not be proper for him to allow Harry into his rooms here. At school, he was Harry’s teacher, and he had always been lenient with his snakes; no one else would care for them the way he did. However, it would be pushing the boundaries here. “We should not be alone in my bedroom Harry, go down to my office and wait for me, I won’t be long,” he told the boy. Harry nodded and headed down the hall to the office Severus used while in the Manor. 

 

Narcissa stepped out from around the corner with a smile on her face. Severus was a good man; she had known this but that had been an excellent test of his intentions towards the boy she thought of as her son. She wondered however what could have brought Harry to Severus' door so early in the morning; it might be any number of things, not the least of which would be her cousin. 

 

The woman sighed at the thought of her cousin. She was pleased he had been freed from that awful prison and she was even happy to take responsibility for his treatment. However, the man had insisted on speaking with Harry before he would agree to go to St Mungo's. It was understandable, she supposed, naturally, he would want to talk to his Godson.  However, she would not have him upsetting her son. 

 

Deciding she could trust Severus to interact appropriately with Harry, she turned around and headed to the guest wing. Perhaps she should have a little chat with Sirius before he met with Harry.

 

Harry sat in Severus' office on the visitor's chair; it was high enough that he could swing his legs without hitting the floor. The images in the mirror had unsettled him for many reasons. The realisation that Nagini was a horcrux was just the start, Harry was worried about the complete lack of empathy he felt for both the man Tom had been torturing and the man he had killed. Maybe it had been because he had witnessed it through Nagini's eyes but surely, by now, Harry should feel something.

 

Severus entered the room a few minutes after Harry arrived and he sat in his chair opposite his young betrothed. “Harry?” he asked softly seeing the look on the boy's face.

 

“I saw Tom torturing someone,” he blurted out without any preamble. “In my dream and then in my mirror. It was horrible he was hurting him so badly. The man was screaming and begging,” Harry rasped, his eyes wide.

 

“I am sorry Harry, that would not have been pleasant, were you watching through the Dark Lord's eyes?” He asked concern in his tone.

 

“No, It was Nagini. I saw through the snake's eyes, and…she didn’t care about what was happening, and so I didn't care; she was just annoyed about the noise and I…I didn't feel anything. I don't know if the man lived or not, but then Tom killed another man. I think he was a muggle, though what a muggle was doing in Tom’s house I don't know. I feel sick, Severus. I feel sick, no,w but then…I felt nothing…” Harry whispered.

 

Severus stood up and walked to the sofa indicating for Harry to come with him, Harry followed and sat down beside the man. Severus took Harry’s hand. “Harry after everything you have been through in your life the very fact that you retain the ability to be empathic is remarkable. Not only do you display empathy to your friends but you expect to feel it for strangers and for someone with your experiences that is commendable. However, it is not conducive to retaining your sanity given what you still have to face. I think perhaps as you mature you will learn to remove yourself from emotive situations, as with what happened here,” he told him.

 

“So it’s good that I didn’t care?” Harry asked his eyes going wide.

 

“Oh Harry, you did care, you care very much; if you didn't you would not have run to my rooms at this hour needing to talk to me,” Severus reassured him.  “What you did was create some distance between the action you witnessed and the emotion related to that action. You gave yourself the chance to be objective rather than become lost in the emotions it is that distance which allows you to act yourself in such situations.”

 

“So it was a good thing?” Harry repeated. 

 

“Well yes, it was a better option than falling apart. There was nothing you could do this time, however, had you been there you might have been able to help the man being hurt,” Severus explained.

 

Harry thought about that and it did make sense. He would have helped the man if he could have, when he thought about it he had wanted to help in the first place, before the Nagini’s indifference had blocked his feelings.

 

“Sev, do you think Tom will be able to…I don't know…be reasonable? Is he going to be able to work towards implementing his ideas without violence?” Harry asked. 

 

Severus looked at the boy sitting next to him, he looked so painfully young. It was not that Severus ever forgot Harry’s age but sometimes the way he responded to challenges made him seem much older than his years. The abuse he had suffered and his will to live despite his circumstances had forced him to mature much sooner than other young people. It was a situation with which Severus was intimately familiar.

 

“I honestly don't know,” he admitted after a few moments of thought. “I hope he can, and if he is willing to put his soul back together and work towards educating the public about his goals and working with the members of the Wizengarmot…then maybe he will be successful,” Severus said. 

 

“I hope so too, I don’t want to fight him and people will expect me to stop him if he…well you know starts a war,” He said with a sigh. 

 

“There are many ways to prevent a war, Harry, but you won't be alone no matter what happens. I do think The Dark Lord is serious about political change, and I hope that with support from Lucius, Augustus Rookwood and myself, he will focus on achieving his aims peacefully,” the man said reassuringly. 

 

Harry smiled at the man. “Thanks, Sev,” he replied with a small smile. 

 

“Was that all?” Severus asked gently.

 

Harry took his time answering that question then finally he said. “I am supposed to be talking to Sirius this morning. Mum promised him he could talk with me if he agreed to go to St Mungo's for treatment. I know he is unwell but I don't like the way he talks about you. I understand why you don’t want him to know about our contract but I don’t want to listen to him putting you and my family down and trying to get me to leave here and go to Dumbldore,” Harry confessed.

Severus shifted in his seat; he had no one to blame for this situation but himself. It had been his idea to ask Lucius to look into Black’s conviction. Now, he was a free man and wanted to see Harry. Perhaps he should have asked Narcissa to check him for compulsion charms.  “Your Mother is right Harry, your Godfather is unwell. However, that does not mean you have to put up with him forcing his ideas and opinions on you. You can tell him to stop, tell him you won’t talk with him if he is not going to respect you and what you want.”

 

Harry huffed. “He will just say you have given me a potion to confuse me. He won't listen to me,” Harry replied. 

 

“Then you can leave, Harry. You are under no obligation to talk to him. He asked for the opportunity to talk to you, and he will be given that opportunity if he blows it, then that will be on him. You are in control.” Severus reassured him. 

 

Harry smiled Severus always knew how to make him feel better about things that scared him, he silently thanked Lily for her foresight in making the the man his magical guardian and arranging the betrothal contract. Instead of replying, he surged forward, threw his arms around the man's neck and hugged him tight. 

Sirius Black was nervous he only had one chance to talk to Harry and Narcissa had made it clear that she would withdraw the opportunity if he started attacking Harry’s new family or Snape. Remus had also warned him about attacking Snape and pushing Dumbldore as an alternative guardian.

 

Harry had a strong connection to Severus and the Malfoys after spending the best part of three years with them. Sirius could not understand what Dumbledore was thinking letting Harry be sorted into Slytherin he did not know what to make of Harry’s distrust of Albus. 

 

Remus had not told Sirius everything about Albus. He had not told him about Harry being abused by his Aunt and Uncle nor had he mentioned that Albus had got Severus released from Azkaban after only a few days; he was struggling to understand that himself.

 

If today went well then Sirius would go to St Mungo's without a fight, if it did not go well he knew Narcissa had arranged for Sirius to be committed to the Janus Thickery Ward against his will. Harry’s lawyer had filed the paperwork on the grounds of protecting Harry. 

 

Remus held tight to Sirius’ hand as they made their way to Lucius' study for the meeting with Harry and he prayed for the first time in many years that his lover would see sense. 

 

The door was open as they approached and when they looked into the sitting room they saw Harry sitting on the sofa next to Narcissa; he was cuddled close to her his head resting against her shoulder, she had her arm around him and was whispering softly to him. Remus felt Sirius tense next to him and squeezed the man's hand in warning. 

 

Lucius was standing at the fireplace watching his wife and son, sensing the men's arrival he glanced up and called them into the room. There were two chairs set opposite the sofa where the blond man indicated they should sit while he moved to the sofa on the other side of Harry. 

 

Lucius sat with his eyes focused on Black. “I believe you have been made aware that this is your only opportunity to speak with Harry and that we will not tolerate you upsetting him.”

 

Sirius sneered but did not comment. Instead, he turned to Harry. “Harry, I know you think that you’re safe here but you have to understand that they are servants of the Dark Lord, I don’t understand why you trust them but not Albus Dumbldore.”

 

Harry sighed he had hoped it would not go this way. “It’s simple,” he told his Godfather. “They are my parents and they have taken care of me. The only reason I have clothes to wear is because Narcissa, my mother, bought them for me. There is more food here than I can eat and I get birthday and Christmas presents. When I got hurt at school they came to check on me; they care about me. Professor Dumbledore, on the other hand, left me with Aunt Petunia and her husband. I was abused there; I was forced to cook and most days they didn’t let me eat what I cooked but I had to clean the kitchen after they ate. I only survived because your precious headmaster realised, at some point, that my reading a writing were not good enough for me to have written the letters he claimed I wrote. He sent Miss Daniels to help me and she helped me survive. She made sure I got food to eat; there was a nutrient potion in the strawberry milk she gave me with the sandwiches. Some days, that was the only food I got for the day. She also gave me a warm coat. Dumbledore wanted a weak, overly grateful Gryffindor, but he got a cunning, self-sufficient Slytherin and I know which I would rather be,” Harry finished his eyes never leaving the man across from him.

 

Sirius sat in stunned silence, why had Remus not told him? He turned to look at the man beside him. “I am sorry Siri, I thought it would be too much for you to hear. I just…I wanted you to get better first,” he said softly.

 

Sirius looked back at Harry. “What about Sniv..sorry Snape?”

 

Harry glared, but he ignored the man’s slip. “Severus is the reason I am safe, he got me away from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon as soon as he found out what was happening. He asked Madam Pomfrey to do a check-up, and it showed everything that was wrong with me. Severus made me the potions I needed to heal from injuries and the nutrient potions I needed,” Harry replied. His reply barely scraped the surface of all the things Severus had done for him but it was all Sirius needed to know.

 

“I see,” the man replied. “So I imagine I will not be able to convince you to go to Dumbledore.” 

 

Harry did not reply verbally he merely raised an eyebrow and looked at Sirius the older man shuddered at the expression on Harry’s face which was pure Severus Snape.

 

“Right, well, I am your godfather, and I should have custody of you…” he began, but he stopped when Remus put a hand on his arm. 

 

“Sirius,” He whispered. “We talked about this; you do not have the right to custody. There is an order in place. Lily named Snape Harry’s Magical Guardian.”

 

“But James…” Sirius insisted, but again, he was cut off by the werewolf.

 

“James' will went missing, as did Lily’s. I have told you this, remember? There was a copy of her will found in her vault when Severus went to Gringotts to ask about removing Petunia as Harry’s guardian,” he told the man.

 

Sirius was confused again; had Remus told him this? Why couldn’t he remember? 

 

“Sirius,” Narcissa said softly. “I know this is confusing for you. The dementors have done a lot of damage to you over the years. Fortunately, your animagus form protected you somewhat, but you still have healing to do. Let me take you to St Mungo's now, and you can talk to Harry again at Christmas when you are feeling better.” 

 

The dark-haired man turned to look at his lover. “What about Remus, where will he go while I am in the hospital?”

 

“He can stay here if he wishes,” Lucius said.

 

“Or he can live in any of my houses,” Harry added. “I want you to get well, Sirius. I want us to have a relationship, but for that to happen, you need to be well enough to accept my new family.”

 

Sirius shook his head. “I can’t leave you here, Harry; my instincts are screaming at me that you are not safe here.”

 

“I am perfectly safe. I have been safe for three years. Living here is the safest I have ever been, and when you're better, you will see that,” Harry told him. 

 

Remus put his arm around the man he loved and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Come on, Siri,” he encouraged him. “Come with us now, come and get better for Harry and me. We can't be together while you are like this I promise I will keep an eye on Harry while you are away.”

 

“Like what?” Sirius asked, bristling.  Sirius shook his head in amazement. “I think I am the only one who is seeing reason here - they are Death Eaters, Remus,” He hissed. “Snape is a Death Eater,” he spat forcefully. He tried to push himself forward towards Harry, but he found himself stuck to his chair.

 

“Sirius, stop,” Lupin said. 

 

Narcissa got to her feet. “We are done here,” she said. “Harry, go back to Severus and stay with him until I come for you, tell him to send a patronus when you are with him,” she ordered. 

 

Harry got slowly to his feet, his eyes still on his Godfather. “I will see you at Christmas, Sirius,” he said before obeying his mother’s instruction and leaving the room.

 

Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but Remus put his hand on the man’s arm, and Sirius deflated. Harry left the room. Silence fell until a doe patronus appeared several minutes later, informing them all that Harry was safe with Severus. 

 

Remus' eyes went wide at the sight of the doe, which spoke in Severus’ deep baritone voice, assuring them all that Harry was safe with him in his office; Lupin swallowed his shocked exclamation. It didn't necessarily mean anything he told himself, though he did not believe it. At that moment, he thanked his lucky stars he had never mentioned Harry’s patronus to Sirius.

 

 

Chapter 3: Summer at Malfoy Manor

Summary:

Harry and Draco enjoy their summer while the adults around them worry about the School year to come.

Notes:

I am sorry it has been so long. Life has been busy, and I was distracted by another story, which still has one more chapter to go before it is finished.

This chapter is a little shorter than my usual chapters, but it sets up the direction of the story and leads us to the Quidditch World Cup, which will need its own chapter.

 

Narcissa stepped out of the floo directly into her private sitting room. She was tired; it had been a draining day, and she was ready to spend some quiet time with her husband and sons.  It had been fairly straightforward getting Sirius admitted to St. Mungo's, her cousin had been fairly well behaved. He had a private room and his own mind healer, and she was confident he was in good hands. She had been assured that Sirius’ healer, Brenton Adams, was one the best in Britain, and the man had seemed confident that Sirius would recover. However, he had warned it would likely be a long road. Narcissa was unsurprised by this assessment; her cousin had a lot to work through before she would allow him to see Harry again. She hoped the young man would not be too disappointed.

Waving her hand she banished the mostly imaginary soot from her robes and she made her way to the window to look for the boys. She scanned the grounds but there was no sign of Draco or Harry near the pool or in the sky nor could she hear them in their rooms.

Frowning slightly she removed her outer cloak and made her way downstairs in search of her family. As she neared Luicus' study she was startled by a sudden scream of either excitement or terror she could not tell which, picking up her pace she made her way to her husband's office and entered without knocking. 

The sight which met her eyes was truly endearing. Her two boys both had their arms wrapped around Luicus who was valiantly bearing the overzealous hugs of his very excited sons. Narcissa smiled as she watched them as they seemed to sense her presence, they released her husband and turned as one and ran towards her, their faces shining with excitement.

“Father got us tickets to the Quidditch World Cup,” Draco explained, a huge smile on his face. There was no trace of his carefully constructed Slytherin Ice Prince facade, which he usually projected.

“I see,” Narcissa said with a smile at Draco’s expression. There had been a time not so long ago that Draco would never have expressed such emotion, and she once again thanked the fates for bringing them Harry. “...and when is this event taking place?” she asked.

“Not for ages,” Harry lamented, “...but it’s still exciting! I have never seen a professional match and it’s the World Cup!”

Narcissa looked at her husband,  his eyes were shining with pleasure at having given the boys such happy news. Narcissa, however, knew he husband extremely well; they had been married for fifteen years and betrothed for five years before that and she could see in his demeanour that something was bothering him.  “That’s wonderful news, my darlings. It will be quite an adventure for you both, but why don't you two head upstairs, and I will have the elves bring up some afternoon tea,” she said fondly.  

The boys were too excited to notice the undercurrent of tension between the adults and ran off to do as their mother told them. Harry went in search of Severus to tell him the news, and Draco headed to his room to find the latest edition of ‘Qudditch Weekly' to read up on the two teams they would be watching. Ireland would win he had no doubt their chasers were the best in the competition, but Bulgaria had Viktor Krum.

Narcissa watched them go, then turned and walked toward her husband. She sat on the chair opposite him and waited for him to speak. He looked tired, worn even so she waited patiently for him to choose his words.

“I spoke to Fudge today,” he said slowly. “It seems Ludo Bagman has had a mad idea and Barty Crouch is supporting him on it for Merlin knows what reason,” the man said slowly.

Narcissa frowned. “Ok, I can see you are worried, my love, but I am afraid I don't see how this will be a problem for us,” she said, unable to see how anything the Department of Magical Games and Sports did could possibly affect her family.

Luicus looked grim. “They are reinstating the Triwizard Tournament, and our esteemed Headmaster, in his wisdom, has agreed to host it at Hogwarts,”  he told her. 

Narcissa blinked at her husband in confusion. “I…the Triwizard Tournament? That hasn't been played in over 200 years. Why would they want to do such a thing now? She asked, slightly shocked at the news.

“Bagman,” Lucius said with a scowl. “He is looking to make his mark on the Ministry, and he thinks bringing back the Tournament will give him some kind of notoriety.”

“Well, it will make for an interesting school year but…” 

Lucius rolled his eyes. “Harry doesn’t need the Triwizard Tournament to have an interesting year,” the blond man said dryly. “Severus agrees. It’s too big an opportunity for the Headmaster to pass up. I am worried he will somehow get Harry caught up in it,” he said, cutting across his wife.

Narcissa considered her husband’s words, and she could see his point. Harry’s first three years at Hogwarts had been interesting, to say the least, and she could not deny that Lucius might be right “Surely there will be some kind of restrictions, an age limit on contestants. They can't allow fourteen-year-olds to participate, can they?”

“There are new rules,” Lucius conceded. “Anyone wishing to be considered for their school Champion will nominate themselves by placing their names into The Goblet of Fire. I have been assured that to nominate, students will need to be 17 and that no under age student will be able to put their name in,” he said, though he sounded unconvinced. 

“So what's the problem?” his wife asked. It seemed to her that the rules were sensible and would protect the children.  

“This clause,” Lucius said, picking up the rule book. “Any competitor who is selected by the Goblet of Fire will be magically bound to compete regardless of age. They will, therefore, be considered a fully qualified adult for contractual purposes from the date of their name being drawn. Refusal to compete may result in a complete loss of magic,” he read.

Narcissa absorbed that information. “So if by chance Harry…or Draco got their name in the cup and it was drawn out, they would be declared an adult and forced to compete?” she asked incredulously.

The blond sighed. “Yes, it would seem that way. I spoke to Fudge and Ludo about it, and they insist that no underage student will be able to put their name in but…”

“What if they ask an older student to do it?” Narcissa asked over the top of her husband.

“I don't know. Severus is going to Hogwarts tomorrow to see what he can find out. Fudge is determined to push ahead regardless; he needs some good publicity, and he thinks this is the way to get it,” Lucius told her.

Narcissa pursed her lips and shook her head. “I am sure it will be fine. The Headmaster can’t afford any more bad publicity, nor, as you say, can the Minister. They will have to ensure it is completely safe,” she said firmly. 

“The Dark Lord will know,” Luicus said so quietly Narcissa almost missed it. 

The woman drew in a sharp breath, and her eyes went wide. “You’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be, Rookwood was at the briefing, we must assume he will report the news to our Lord,” Lucius’ face was expressionless. Narcissa could only nod in reply before she stood to leave; she needed to see to the boys' afternoon tea.

 

Severus was concerned; Albus Dumbledore was looking very pleased with himself, and that was rarely ever a good thing for him. The Triwazard Cup was on display in the Headmaster’s office, which meant he had plenty of time to figure out how the artefact worked and alter it to do his bidding. Whatever else the headmaster was, he was a powerful and cunning Wizard, who, despite being regarded as the leader of the light, was more than capable of darker spells.

In order to fight the Dark Arts, you had to understand them, and if anyone knew that better than Severus, it was the Headmaster. The dark arts were not fixed; they were not a set of dark spells. Magic was about intention, and it was possible to cause harm with almost any spell. The cutting spell, used in the right way, could seriously injure or even kill; wingardium leviosa could kill if a heavy object was lifted and dropped on someone, and even lumos could be used to disorientate or confuse people, causing them to become lost and wander into danger. Albus Dumbldore was more than powerful enough to turn his magic to anything he wanted to achieve.

Despite asking a multitude of questions Severus had only been given the barest information about the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the Goblet of Fire. The Headmaster had promised that all would be revealed when all the rest of the teachers returned to school two weeks before the start of term. All Severus had been able to ascertain was that the Beaxbatons and Durmstrang would be competing in the Tournament, and they would arrive at Hogwarts the day before Halloween. Those students who were eligible would have one day to place their names in the cup, and the champions would be chosen on the following evening at the Halloween feast - because nothing ever went wrong on Halloween!

Severus sent an owl to Minerva before he left the castle, to give her a heads up about Albus latest idea. She was not returning to the castle until the last week of August. There was little else Severus could do until Minerva and the other Heads of House returned to the school.  When they were all back they could meet and decide on how best to keep their students safe through this new idea of the Headmaster.

Gathering his cloak he called a House elf to pass a message to Albus that he was going back to Malfoy Manor. He had returned on the pretext of making an inventory of his potion ingredients so he could restock both his private stores and the student cupboard; there was no reason for him to stay any longer, and he wanted to get back to the Manor to see Harry. 

 

Harry’s birthday coincided with the arrival of Hogwarts letters and so they family spent part of Harry’s birthday shopping for school supplies, which this year, included dress robes. Narcissa decreed that Twilfitt and Tattings was the place to go for dress robes. 

The store was very different to Madam Malkins, there seemed to be noone in the store when they arrived; Harry had been highly amused watching Draco run his hand over several dozen different fabrics with a look of intense concentration on his face.

A man impeccably dressed in tailor-made robes appeared through a curtain at the back of the store. “Lady Malfoy, what an honour. How may we be of service?”

 “Mr Tatting,” Narcissa replied warmly. “A pleasure to see you again. We require dress robes,” she told him. “The boys need them for school this year.”

“Yes, of course. Did the young gentlemen have anything particular in mind?” the man asked, moving silently towards Draco, who had collected an assortment of fabric. 

Draco acknowledged the man with a nod and then proceeded to show him the rolls he had collected; as far as Harry could tell they were all blue but the tailor spoke as if they were four different colours. It took about an hour for Draco to choose his fabric and then it was Harry’s turn. Harry was well out of his depth so Draco took over.

Finally, Draco and Narcissa settled on green and black for Harry’s robes and the two boys had their measurements taken and the order was finalised. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he finally found himself back on the street. They purchased potion and writing supplies and the required textbooks before heading to the Leaky Cauldron for a birthday lunch.

Severus had been unable to join them for shopping this year, but he joined the family for dinner, as did Remus, who was still staying with the Malfoys even though Sirius was in St. Mungo’s. Harry had once again received more presents than he knew what to do with from parents, mostly clothing, books and sweets. 

Remus offered Harry a large heavy parcel which turned out to be books, one about magical beings including werewolves and the other was a book on dragons. Severus presented Harry with his gift later that evening as the two shared a private moment on the Terrace. Harry accepted the square flat box with a wide smile. He removed the lid to reveal an intricately made silver armband set with malachite stones for balance, healing and protection. it also helped to develop intuition and spiritual growth. 

Harry instantly loved it. It was true he had plenty of protective jewellery, but this was the first time someone had gifted him jewellery, and the fact it was Severus who gave it made it extra special. A strange warmth bloomed inside him, and he threw his arms around his betrothed and kissed his cheek.

Severus smiled as Harry hugged him. The boy was growing up fast; in just a few short years, he had grown several inches, and he was beginning to fill out. He was still more a boy than a man but Severus could see the man taking shape. Usually, he refused to think about his future with Harry; it was still a good four years away by his reckoning, and Harry would have the final say on any further contract between them, but Severus could not deny that Harry felt right in his arms, and then there was their matching patonus’...

Whatever happened, Severus was grateful for the opportunity to know this young man and watch him grow up. He would become a formidable wizard one day, and Severus looked forward to seeing him mature. He pulled back gently from the embrace and looked into Harry’s shining green eyes. “Happy Birthday, Harry,” he said softly, then froze. He could feel eyes on him, but when he scanned the immediate area, he could not see anyone. Unsure as to what it was he was sensing, he stood up and led Harry back inside the empty sitting room and drew the drapes.

Remus Lupin watched from the garden below the terrace and pressed his lips together. He should have been furious with what he was seeing, but for some reason, he could not muster the fury. He racked his brain, but he could not find the reason for his acceptance of this situation; his memories did not align with his feelings, and it was an uncomfortable place to be. He turned away as Snape took Harry inside, and he retreated to his guest quarters. He needed to take some time to think, to try and remember. Then he would go and see Severus. Hopefully, he could recover the missing information and he could finally make sense of everything. 

 

Albus Dumbldore smiled as he read the letter from his old friend. Moody was naturally suspicious of the request and had made several demands about his security and the protection of the students. Albus brushed over the paranoid man’s concerns; Hogwarts was completely safe. Albus himself was in control of the wards and nothing got in he did not allow. 

The important thing was that Alastor had agreed to take the position. Now, all he had to do was arrange for Harry to be chosen as a champion, and then he would insist that Alastor help him survive. It would be a great triumph for both Albus and Harry, and once Harry won, people would understand that he was right and that Harry Potter was the only one who could defeat Lord Voldemort.

Harry himself would realize he was special. It would take some careful management, but Albus was certain he could get the boy back on track and focused on the destruction of the wizard who had killed his parents. Once he had Harry on side he would slowly insinuate the idea of a resort in his mind and everything would be as it should have been in the first place. 

He breathed easier knowing that his plan was unfolding as it should. He summoned parchment and replied to Alsoror, assuring him everything would be as he had requested and he nothing at all to worry about, his safely was absolutely guaranteed while he was at Hogwarts.

The next thing would be to inform the Ministry and the rest of the staff that he had secured a Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Minerva and Severus had been less than impressed with his previous appointments, and perhaps in hindsight, he could see that employing Quirrell and Lockhart had been an error in judgment, and he could admit that Lupin had been a risk which had not worked out. Alastor Moody, however, was an Auror of some renown he had faced all manner of Dark Arts in his career. Dumbledore was sure he had the right man for the job. 

For this year at least, the curse was becoming quite problematic, perhaps he should consider a curse breaker. Unfortunately, that would mean asking the Goblins for help, and the last thing he needed was for a Goblin to come to Hogwarts and realise the state of the wards. Stroking his beard, he dismissed the idea he would look into the curse next summer, for now the problem was solved.

 

Barty Crouch Junior grinned as he listened to the Dark Lord outline his plan. Once they knew who Dumbledore had appointed as the Defence teacher this year Barty would attack them and take thier place using polyjuice potion. Then once he was ensconced at Hogwarts he would make sure that Harry was selected as the Hogwarts Champion and guide him to victory. 

It was just the sort of crazy plan Barty loved. On the surface, it was simple, but in truth, there was nothing simple about the magic that would be required. Barty was a Death Eater, and after spending the past twelve years in Azkaban, he was not quite sane; however, despite that, he was still a Ravenclaw, and he revelled in the challenge his Lord had presented him. 

First, he would need to examine the cup. Hopefully, Dumbledore would not be adverse to his Defence teacher checking the cup over for tampering, and if he was well, Barty would figure something out. Then he would need to ensure that Harry Potter’s name be drawn as the Hogwarts Champion. 

Rookwood believed that forcing the Cup to select Potter as the Hogwarts Champion would be impossible and that Barty would somehow need to confound the cup and force it to select a fourth Champion, and he had taught Barty several useful spells to use to achieve this purpose. However, once Harry was selected, Barty would be on his own, devising his plans as he learned more about the boy who lived and about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He would need to be wary of Snape, but Barty was confident he could handle the Potions Master.

The only part Barty was not looking forward to was retuning to his father. If he was to do this properly and keep suspicion away from his Lord he needed to begin small; a dark Mark here, an attack there Barty would set the scene perfectly and lead the Ministry on quite the dance. He could not wait.

 

Summer was Harry’s favourite time of year now that he did not have to live at Privet Drive he was free to  lie about in his room reading his books and no one yelled at him for being lazy. He could also do things he never dreamed of while living with his relatives; he could fly on a broom or swim in a pool or walk though the gardens and just enjoy the flowers. 

When it was not forced on him, Harry found he quite enjoyed gardening, and he spent a lot of time in the greenhouses with Nacissa and sometimes Severus, tending to the many different potion ingredients that grew there. Harry had discovered there was so much more to gardening than just watering and weeding Aunt Petunia’s rose beds or mowing the lawn. 

Herbology class had taught him how to grow and care for potion ingredients, and Severus had taught him about harvesting and preparing the ingredients before finally using them in a potion. It was like cooking, he had never enjoyed growing vegetables and cooking them for his ungrateful relatives, but growing potion ingredients he found meditative. He had come to enjoy the feeling of the dirt in his fingers; it was grounding in a way he had never appreciated before. 

Draco found gardening to be too much like schoolwork work he enjoyed brewing and spent his time in the Laboratory or the Library reading. Narcissa said it was good they had some separate interests; otherwise, they would soon get sick of each other. Harry supposed that was true, 

However, as much as he loved summer, Harry found himself wishing it away this year as he waited impatiently for the Quidditch World Cup. The event was scheduled for the 24th of August, Narcissa had told both Harry and Draco they needed to have their school trunks packed and ready to go before they left. The last World Cup, Draco informed Harry, had gone on for a whole week. If that happened again, they would be cutting fine for their return to Hogwarts. 

Harry could not help but hope the match would go for a week this time. Severus had rolled his eyes when Harry told him that while they repotted aconite. Harry was too excited to care, and Severus was so pleased to see Harry carefree and happy that he just smiled to himself and let the young man talk about how excited he was and how brilliant it was all going to be.

 

Chapter 4: The Quidditch World Cup

Summary:

The Malfoy family attend the World Cup.

Notes:

Hello, I am finally finished with my other story and am hoping to be back on track with this soon. This is a very long chapter - I hope you enjoy it.

There are some scenes and dialogue which are the same or very simlular to those in The Goblet of Fire and as such do not belong to me.

As always, thanks for reading ✨💚✨

The Quidditch World Cup

 

The day of the World Cup finally arrived. It began as usual with a family breakfast, the boys made an appearance just as the food was served. Harry sat next to Severus as he always did, leaving Draco to sit next to Lupin.

 

Narcissa explained they would be apparating to the site of the Cup at 3:00 pm.  “Arrivals to the site are tightly scheduled to allow everyone to arrive on time, with as little attention drawn to them as possible,” she told them.

 

“What do you mean tightly scheduled? Harry asked. “Isn't apparating instant?”

 

“It is, yes, but tens of thousands of wixen want to attend the World Cup. It's been sold out for months, and the Departments of Magical Games and Sport and International Magical Cooperation have been planning this for almost a year. A specially built stadium has been raised somewhere in the Moorlands and the whole place is covered in muggle repelling and concealment charms so the Muggles don’t notice.” Lucius explained. “Arrivals must be staggered so we don't have too many people appearing out of nowhere at once. I believe muggles run the campsites we are staying at.”

 

“Staying? We’re staying overnight? Why can’t we just appparate home?” Draco demanded. 

 

Harry and Severus rolled their eyes in unison, and Lupin smirked as Narcissa pierced her son with a look that could have sliced stone. “We are staying on site to give you both the experience of camping. I am sure there will be plenty of people you know from school in attendance, and it will be a good opportunity to learn something about how the departments in the Ministry work together to hold events such as these. It will also be an ideal opportunity to forge alliances with International Wixen,” she told her son sharply. 

 

Draco stared down at his breakfast and replied, “Yes, mother,” before continuing to eat his food.

 

Harry wanted to ask about the camping. Try as he might, he could not see Narcissa and Lucius sleeping on the ground in a sleeping bag. He looked sideways at Severus hoping he might understand the unspoken question, and his bethrothed did not let him down. “Come and see me in the lab when you have finished eating,” he murmured to Harry before thanking Narcissa for breakfast and excusing himself. 

 

Harry sighed and finished his eggs without further comment. 

 

As soon as he finished his breakfast, Harry hurried down to the lab to see Severus. The potions master was busy brewing pain potions for the hospital wing, as he worked he told Harry about Wizard camping.  “It’s nothing like muggle camping, Harry. I assure you no one will be sleeping on the ground; I suggest you pack as if you are staying in a hotel.”

 

Harry was still confused, but Severus refused to elaborate; he did not want to spoil the surprise. Instead, he advised Harry to pack as if he were going to a hotel! It wasn't quite the information he'd hoped for, he mused as he walked back to room. Draco was packing his usual summer clothes into a backpack when Harry returned. He waved at a second backpack on the sofa. “Mum says to pack a few changes we don’t know how long the match will be.”

 

None of this made sense, but then in the three years he had lived in the Magical World, he had learned that things rarely made sense in the context of his Muggle upbringing, and it was generally best just to watch and see what happened.

 

The two entertained themselves until lunchtime by poring over Draco’s newest edition of ‘Quidditch Weekly’ and carefully studying the stats for each team and the players lists.

 

“Ireland will win,” Draco said confidently.

 

“Bulgaria have Krum,” Harry argued. 

 

“Yeah, but the Irish chasers have been too good in every match. Ireland thrashed Scotland and France, and it was all down to their chasers,” Draco pointed out. 

 

“Sure, but Krum won the games against Norway and Uganda by catching the snitch when Bulgaria were well behind in the points,” Harry said, tapping the page with the lead-up match scores. 

 

“He did, but still, Krum is one good player. The whole Irish team is good,” Draco replied. 

 

“Hummm,” Harry mused. “I guess that's true, but anything could happen. Krum could catch the snitch at the right time.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes “Yeah, it could happen, but it won't.” 

 

Lunch was served in their rooms, delivered by Dobby. Who informed them that lunch was informal today as Narcissa was overseeing the preparation for their trip and Lucius had been called to the Ministry but would be back for their scheduled departure time. 

 

At 2:30, there was a knock on the door of their sitting room, and both boys looked up as Narcissa stepped into the room. “Are you both packed and ready to go?” she asked. 

 

They nodded, and Draco replied in the affirmative, pointing at the two backpacks near the door which had several changes of clothes and their spending money packed in them. 

 

“Very good,” Narcissa told them. “Have you packed some things to do as well, perhaps a book to read or games to play? I am not sure how long we will be away.. I hope you will have time to mingle and meet people, but there might be some time when you need to stay in the tent,” she warned them. 

Harry got up and went to his room, gathering his newest book on divination and the book on dragons Lupin had given him for his birthday and shrank them to fit in his bag. Draco stuffed two books and a pack of exploding snap cards into his bag. 

 

Finally, it was time to go. Harry and Draco made their way downstairs with their bags to the Entrance Hall where Lucius, Narcissa and Severus were waiting. Severus gave Harry a brief hug goodbye and assured him that he would arrange for their trunks to be taken to school if the match went on for more than a week, and then they were gone. 

 

Severus stood looking at the door for several moments, contemplating several days without Harry. He would miss the boy. Slowly he turned to make his way back to his Lab only to find Lupin standing a few feet behind him.

 

“You and Harry are soulmates,” Lupin said softly, without accusation. “Lily knew, didn't she?”

 

Severus contemplated his reply for a moment then he gave a light shrug of his shoulders. “She may have I am not sure. All I know is that a contract was made between the Potter and Prince families just before Lily and James went into hiding. I have her journals, and one of them she left just for me, but it doesn't mention Harry and I being soulmates.” Severus replied, keeping his tone even. 

 

Lupin nodded. “That must be what I am missing,” he said almost to himself. Then, in a louder voice, he said, “I think I must have known. My emotions around the idea of you and Harry being together are far too settled, but I can’t for the life of me remember her saying anything about it. It’s what you meant through isn't it? When you said I wouldn't like what I remembered.”

 

Severus nodded slowly, unsure where the conversation was headed. “Yes,” he replied carefully. “It is what I meant. Harry and I have been courting since his first year. We discovered the betrothal contract  when Harry had an inheritance test, and then at Christmas, we inadvertently initiated an old Soulmate Courting Rite when we bought each other an animal.”

 

“You have exchanged familars?” Lupin asked with a raised eyebrow. 

 

Severus nodded.

 

“And your Patronus’ match,” Remus observed. 

 

“They do,” Severus answered. 

 

The wolf said nothing for a moment, and then he asked, “I see,” he said. “I would still like to try and piece together my memories. Are you still willing to help me?”

 

“Yes, I have been doing some research, and I believe I can help. If you would like to come with me to the lab, I will show you what I have been working on,” Severus offered. 

 

“Thank you, I’d appreciate it,” Remus said. 

 

The two men made their way down the stairs to the cellar. Neither man saw the elf following them. Master Harry had asked Dobby to keep an eye on his betrothed while he was away, and Dobby was not going to let the Potions Master out of his sight.

Apparition was certainly convenient in terms of transport, but Harry was still not a fan. When the squeezing sensation finally eased after what was only a minute in reality, Harry gasped and drew in a deep breath. Narcissa kept her arms around him until he found his footing. Lucius and Draco were standing a few feet away, and a man in a mismatched suit and wide 1970s-style tie called for them to move out of the way as the next arrivals were due any moment.

 

Taking Harry’s arm Narcissa guided Harry away just as three red-heads arrived on the spot they had just been standing on. Harry had expected Draco to make a smart remark about his landing, but nothing was forthcoming, and when he looked at his brother, he saw him staring at the new arrivals with an odd expression on his face. 

 

Harry followed Draco’s gaze back to the group of red-heads, and he realised that one of them was Charlie Weasley. Percy was with him, and the third person was probably Bill Weasley, the older brother who had helped Ginny with her letter to him.

 

Harry grinned as Charlie turned towards them and gave them a cheery wave, before following his brothers towards their campsite. Harry did not see Lucius' lip curl in disgust, but he did see Narcissa’s smirk when Draco failed to wave back to Charlie as Harry had done.

 

“I was not aware you knew the older Weasleys,” Lucius said coldly, drawing Harry’s attention. He faltered slightly at the look on his father’s face. 

 

“Errr, yeah Percy only finished school last year and, well we met Charlie once in first year,” Harry answered. 

 

Lucius sneered and Narcissa put a warning hand on his arm as Draco snapped out of his stupor and immediately pretended nothing had happened. The Malfoy Lord glared at his wife, her answering glare had him rethinking his intended rebuke of the boys for mixing with such wizards.

 

Narcissa was aware of her husband's dislike of the Weasley family; they were considered blood traitors by most purebloods, and Arthur Weasley was something of a laughingstock within the Ministry. She was not, however, going to have her son rebuked for his first crush. Weasely or not, she would support Draco.

 

Harry had no idea what had just happened, and without Severus to ask, he was at a loss, so he kept his mouth closed and followed his parents in the opposite direction to the Weaselys. 

 

They made their way down a narrow path to an open field, where another wizard, dressed in a blue tartan kilt and blue and red crocheted poncho, informed them that their elves had already arrived and had their tent set up. “Lord Malfoy, welcome to the World Cup. Your site number is 12, and you’ll find your tent at the end of the third row,” He informed Lucius.

 

Harry’s curiosity was piqued. Severus had said that wizard camping was nothing like muggle camping, and he had hinted that Harry would be surprised by the tent. The man’s description had not helped him at all with what to expect, but the odd assortment of tents that met his eyes as they approached the campsite was beyond anything he could have imagined.

 

Rising out of the moor was the biggest sporting stadium Harry had ever seen. Though to be fair, he had never seen any other stadium in person. This one, however, was massive and looked to be made of gold. There were hundreds of people moving around the base of it, going in and out of the many doors in the gold wall, all of them looking frazzled.

 

The tents, which were pitched in the fields around the Stadium, were the strangest assortment Harry had ever seen. Some looked like ordinary muggle tents, simple triangular prisms, which looked like they could sleep one or two people; there were also a few tepee-style tents and some larger family-size tents, similar to the one Uncle Vernon had bought when his new boss had insisted on taking him fishing. However, some of the tents were not even remotely muggle. There was a castle with turrets, a pink sparkly three-storey tent, there was one which appeared to be made of blue stone and was solid enough that when a passing wizard stubbed his toe on the corner, he swore quite colourfully. 

 

Harry suppressed his laughter as he looked around for where he would be staying. When they found their site, Harry was surprised at how ordinary their tent looked. It was fancy for a muggle tent, it was a green and dark grey dome tent made of the same material as Uncle Vernon’s. However, when they stepped inside, Harry’s jaw dropped. The inside was circular, but it was partitioned into five sections. In the middle was an enclosed fire pit with a chimney going up through the tent roof but which could not be seen from outside. There were five rooms around the edge of the circle: three were bedrooms and had doors, one for Lucius and Narcissa, one for Draco and one for Harry. There was also a dining room and kitchen; the sitting room was in the middle with five plush armchairs around the fire.

 

“Well, this is not so bad,” Narcissa said with a smile. Lucius and Draco snorted in unison, but Harry was beside himself with excitement. He looked at Narcissa and smiled. “It’s brilliant,” he told her and he ran over to one of the rooms and pulled the door open. Inside was a large bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a bedside table. There was also a small bathroom attached. The room looked a lot like his room at the manor, only smaller. On the wall of the tent was a window which should have looked out on the neighbours' tent, but instead showed a forest like the one they had walked through to get to the campsite.

 

Harry dumped his bag and rushed out of his room again. A house elf had placed a tray of hot chocolates and biscuits on the dining table, and Harry sat their to wait for his family to come back. Draco arrived first, appearing from the room next to Harry’s. He saw Harry’s smile and snorted. “You look happy,” he muttered. 

 

“Yeah, this is brilliant. It looks like a muggle tent, but it’s so much better,” he enthused. 

 

“Really, how could it be worse?” Draco asked. 

 

“Well, the tent could actually be the size it looks from the outside, and we could all be squeezed in together sleeping on the ground in sleeping bags,” Harry replied, taking a biscuit from the plate.

 

Draco’s horrified expression was truly priceless, and Harry wished he had a camera. Maybe he could convince Severus to buy him one, he thought, then he remembered the all the gold in his own bank account and resolved to buy himself a camera at the first opportunity. 

 

Lucius and Narcissa stepped out of their room, Luicus looking every bit as uncomfortable as Draco. Harry refrained from comment instead, he finished his hot chocolate and asked if he could go and explore the campsite. Narcissa agreed and suggested the two of them go and buy themselves a souvenir. Draco rolled his eyes, but he collected his money and left the tent with Harry.

 

They walked towards the crowds of people who were buying souvenirs at the stalls along the base of the stadium. There were scarves and hats, along with rosettes in the two teams' colours. A dancing shamrock hat caught Harry’s attention. He thought it was hilarious, so he bought one, but he also bought a Bulgarian scarf, which had a lion similar to a Gryffindor lion embroidered on it. The lion roared at him as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. Draco rolled his eyes and went to look at the mini figures of the players. Harry was looking at a model of a firebolt when he heard a familiar voice behind him. 

 

“Been saving my pocket money for this all summer,” Ron Weasley said to Hermione Granger as they fought their way past the people at the stands. Harry put down the model he was holding and stepped back, blending into the crowd so as not to be seen by the two Gryffindors. 

 

Harry hung back and observed his two schoolmates; they looked as excited as he was to be at the World Cup. Harry watched Ron buy a dancing shamrock hat and a small figurine of Viktor Krum while Hermione bought an Irish scarf. He scanned the crowds for Draco, hoping he had finished his shopping and would not run into Ron and Hermione. 

 

Finally, he caught sight of his brother’s white blond hair and started towards it. As he got closer, he realised Draco was talking to someone who was blocked from Harry’s view by a merchandise stall.  Draco was slightly flushed, Harry noticed, so he slowed his steps as he approached. 

 

“The ridgeback is doing well, only we figured out it wasn’t Norbert after all,” a warm, friendly voice said. 

 

“I am not sure what you mean,” Draco replied, sounding as if he was fascinated by the conversation.  

 

“We’re calling her Norbeta now,” the voice replied, and Harry realised who it was that Draco was looking at with stars in his eyes - Charlie Weasely. 

 

“Oh, right,” Draco said with a huge smile.

 

Harry was about to speak to his brother when something which looked like muggle binoculars was shoved in his face. “Omnioculars,” the smiling sales wizard said. “Slows down the play and gives a play-by-play breakdown if you need it, only ten galleons,” he pressed. 

 

Harry reached into his pocket and took out his money bag. “Two pairs he said, looking at his brother.” At least he would have a reason to be here now rather than just spying on Draco. Manoeuvring his purchases so he had a free hand, he stepped behind his brother and tapped him on the back. 

 

“Hey, Draco, look at these things they…oh hi, Charlie,” Harry said, looking surprised to see the older Weasely brother.

 

Draco flushed an even deeper red.

 

“Hey, Harry, good to see you. This is quite an event, isn't it?” Charlie said.

 

“I already bought a pair of those,” Draco informed Harry. 

 

Before Harry could reply, he heard Ron complaining that he did not have enough money to buy a pair of the Ominocluars. Hermione offered to share hers, but Ron did not seem happy about it. Harry looked down at his purchases. “Here, loan these to Ron, but don’t tell him I gave them to you,” he said to Charlie, holding out his spare pair.

 

Charlie frowned. “Why…” he started to say when he was cut off by his younger brother. 

 

“Bloody snakes,” Ron spat, looking at Harry with two pairs of Omiocluars in his hands. “Throwing your money around, I see, Potter. One pair not enough for you?” he snarled. 

 

“On second thought, keep them for yourself,” Harry told Charlie, thrusting the ominiculars at man and stalking off. 

 

Harry did not hear Charlie telling Ron off or Draco chasing after him, calling his name. He stormed off back to their tent, his mind in a rage. By the time he got there, he had calmed down, but he still threw himself into one of the chairs. Narcissa, who was sitting in another chair, looked up at him, but before she could speak, Draco skidded into the tent. 

 

“Are you alright?” Narcissa asked with a concerned frown, looking between the boys.

 

“I am fine,” Harry told her. 

 

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at Draco. “We had a run-in with Ron Weasley,” Draco said. 

 

“Oh, you didn’t get into a fight, did you?” The blonde woman asked with a sigh. 

 

“No, Harry was trying to be nice but the weasel can’t keep a civil tongue in his head. Charlie told Ron off, and he said to give these back to you.” Draco held out the ominoculars. “He said Ron didn’t deserve to borrow them, and Charlie already bought some,” Draco told them.

 

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, taking his extra pair back. 

 

“I am sorry, Harry,” Narcissa said, moving over to rub Harry’s back. “Unfortunately, sometimes our friendly gestures are misinterpreted or rejected. It says more about the other person than you, though.”

 

Harry sighed. “I get the feeling Ron is jealous of anyone with more money than him. I have heard him speaking rudely to Hermione and Neville about it, too.”

 

Draco snorted. “I don't understand why they are still friends with him,” he muttered. 

 

Harry shugged, “I am not sure either, not that it matters...tell me about Charlie,” he said to Draco with a smirk. 

 

Draco flushed a deep red, and Narcissa decided to go and see the house-elves about dinner and left them to their conversation.

Luicus returned about an hour later, and they had dinner together before heading to the stadium for the game. It was dusk when a loud gong sounded, and people started to flood towards the stadium. Lucius led his family around to a smaller door marked for VIP tickets. The line was much shorter here, and they got inside quickly. Once inside, they made their way up a wide staircase to the VIP suites. They climbed the stairs for almost ten minutes before they reached the top box. Outside the box was a bar stall selling food. Harry bought some hot chips, and Narcissa raised her eyebrow. 

 

Harry shugged. “Dudley always got hot chips when Uncle Vernon took him to the football. I just…” Harry spoke in a low voice before he trailed off, looking embarrassed. Narcissa pressed her lips together and purchased another bag of chips and two bottles of pumpkin juice.

 

They arrived in the box to find it full of redheads, and Draco let out a soft groan. There were two seats left in the front row, and Charlie Weasely was in the seat next to the empty one. Harry grinned at Draco and pushed him towards the seat. Draco glared at him, so Harry whispered that he would sit there if Draco didn't want to. The blond boy pressed his lips together, then turned and walked up to the seat and sat down as if he owned it.

 

Harry sat on the other side of Draco, and greeted Charlie with a happy smile. Charlie returned the smile and introduced Harry to his older Bill. Bill was, Harry had to admit, very good-looking. His long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck, he had the same pale skin as Ron and Charlie but fewer freckles. His clothes were very cool; his leather trousers were rather tight, as was the white tee-shirt, he had an Irish Rosette pinned on his black jacket and a fang hanging from his pierced ear. 

Lucius was at the back of the box talking to Cornelieus Fudge and the Bulgarian Minister for Magic. Harry heard his name and turned around to see who had called him. He stood up and moved to the back of the box when his father beckoned him. 

 

“Har-ry Pot-ttah,” He heard Fudge saying loudly and slowly to the Bulgarian Minister. Harry stood in front of the man and held out his hand. The stranger's eyes flicked to his forehead, and suddenly he understood and he shook Harry’s hand enthusiastically. Fudge mopped his brow. “...knew we’d get there in the end,” he muttered before greeting Harry himself. 

 

Harry was introduced to several more important wizards, including Ludo Bagman, Head of Magical Games and Sport and Bartimus Crouch, Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation. When he was finally allowed to return to his seat, he noticed Percy Weasely glaring at him.

 

He had just sat down when he was accosted by Fred and George. “Howdy Harrrkins,” they said in unison. “I see you’re quite the VIP.” George went on. 

 

“Indeed, how did you get to be on such friendly terms with our Minister?” Fred asked. 

 

“I didn't know you two were interested in politics, Fred, George,” Charlie observed with a suspicious look at his brothers.

 

“We’re not,” George told his brother. 

 

“...but Percy is, almost had coniptions when Harry got an introduction to the Bulgarian Minister,” Fred said jovially. 

 

“Poor Percy, he just started work in the Department of International Magical Co-operation,” George said, sounding melancholy despite his grin. 

 

“His boss is Barty Crouch,” Fred said in a low voice.

 

“He doesn’t actually know Perce’s name…” said George 

 

“...calls him Weatherby,” Fred added.

 

“Looked like he wanted to scratch your eyes out when Crouch got your name right the first time,” George confided. 

 

“Fred, George,” Charlie said in a warning tone. “Leave Percy alone.”

 

“We wouldn’t dream of upsetting Percy,” Fred objected. 

 

Percy heard him and scowled. “He’s still upset about the dragon dung he got in the mail,” George stage-whispered to Harry.

 

Charlie frowned “Dragon dung?” he asked.

 

“It wasn’t dragon dung, it was a sample of fertiliser from Norway, it was not personal,”  Percy objected loudly, glaring at his brothers.

 

“It was,” Fred whispered in Harry’s ear.

 

“We sent it,” George said in his other ear. 

 

Charlie snorted, and the twins grinned and returned to their seats.

 

Harry settled back in his seat to take in the spectacle of the World Cup. Advertisements were flashing all around the ground like they did at the muggle football. Harry had been allowed to watch it on TV whenever Uncle Vernon had taken Dudley to a match. Aunt Petunia didn't like football, but she promised to watch in case her husband or son managed to get their heads on the telly. Instead, she made Harry watch while she knitted or baked. Harry had strict instructions to call out if he saw them, but he never saw them. 

 

“There’s a display of team mascots before the game starts,” Harry heard Hermione say. 

 

“Oh, that's always worth watching,” said Arthur Weasely, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. 

 

Suddenly suddenly the sound of the crowd changed, and Harry looked at the pitch and saw a group of women gliding into the ground. There was a moment of silence, and Harry heard Charlie mutter something about seeing who was gay.

 

“Who are they?” Harry asked. 

 

“They are Veela, each team bring creatures from their country for a display, keep your eye on the men in the room,” Draco said with a smirk.

 

Music began to play and and the women began to dance, except they weren't women. Harry tried to study them through his omnioculars; they were pale skined and had white blonde hair their robes and hair flowed behind them as they moved. Harry could not work out exactly what it was about them that had the entire crowd almost silent. 

 

Harry lowered the omnioculars and glanced at Draco and Charlie, who were not even looking at the dancers; instead, they were looking at the rest of the Weaselys. Ron was standing up like he was about to dive over the edge of the box. Bill Weasely was gripping his seat with both hands his knuckles were white. Percy was leaning over the edge of the box, Fred and George each had a hand on his shoulders holding him back, and Mr Weasely was cleaning his glasses again. Hermione was sitting with her arms crossed over her chest, looking annoyed. 

 

Then the noise changed, the music had stopped, and the Veela were leaving the pitch. The crowd was furious; no one wanted the women to go. Ron was shredding his hat mattering about something, Mr Weasely tugged the hat out of his hands. Percy had sagged over the rail, and Fred pulled him back. Charlie had a hand on Bill, which could have been brotherly affection or might have been keeping the oldest Weasely in his seat.

 

Harry frowned “I don't understand,” he whispered to Draco. 

 

“That’s because you're gay, Harry,” Draco explained.

 

 “Oh, right,” Harry mumbled. “So, why weren’t you affected or Charlie?” Harry asked. 

 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Idiot, we're attracted to men too,” he told Harry. 

 

Harry frowned. “I thought you were…I mean I thought…oh never mind,” Harry said as Draco glared at him.

 

Charlie smirked at the boy's conversation as he checked that his brothers were all still in the box. 

 

Next, Ireland had their say and soon everyone had forgotten about the Veela as the pitch was lit up with a huge rainbow and Leprachans appeared throwing gold from a shimmering shamrock. Charlie bent down and picked up one of the gold coins, which he examined closely. “It’s leprechaun gold,”Bill told his brother. “Yeah,” Charlie replied, “I’ve never seen it before. How long does it last?”

 

“Up to a week, usually,” Bill answered. 

 

Harry looked at the coin in his hand and shoved it in his pocket. he wasn’t sure what the older Weaselys meant about it only lasting for a week, but he was curious. He intended to ask Severus about it when he got home.

 

Finally the scoreboard lit up showing Ireland 0 and Blugaria 0 and Ludo Bagman stood up and casting a sonorus on his throat and welcomed everyone to the World Cup and announced the arrival of the Bulgarian Team. 

 

The gates at the left side of the stadium opened and the Bulgarian Team flew into the stadium to the roar of the Blugarians in the crowd. The seven players zoomed around the stadium, moving together into different flying formations. The Chasers broke away and began to fly faster than the rest of the team. Then, the player at the back flew high above the rest of the team before diving down through the middle of the Chasers and Beaters. 

 

“Krum,” Harry breathed his eyes, trained on the Bulgarian Seeker. 

 

“He’s incredible,” Charlie said, sounding awed. “If only I could fly like that.” 

 

“Were you a seeker?” Draco asked. 

 

“Yep, Gryffindor Seeker for five years,” the redhead replied, his eyes still on Krum. 

 

Bagman thanked the Bulgarain team and announced the Irish team. The crowd roared again as the Irish team flew into the Stadium and showed off their flying skills. Finally, Ludo Bagman called the crowd's attention to the match referee and the coin toss. 

 

Ireland won the toss and chose the goals on Harry’s left. Then the teams were in place, and the balls were released. Harry saw the golden snitch fly straight up. It flitted towards Krum and then swerved and headed to the Irish Seeker. Harry watched it until it finally vanished, blending into the colours of the crowd.

 

The game was played hard and fast. The Irish Chasers were unstoppable, and soon, the score was creeping up. Harry tried to focus on the commentary, but Bagman was talking so fast he couldn't make out more than the players' names. 

 

The score was in Ireland's favour, and Lynch, the Irish seeker, was tagging Krum; everywhere the Bulgarian moved, Lynch was on his tail. It clearly irritated the man. Suddenly, Krum dived towards the ground at an alaming pace, Lynch on his tail. Then, seconds before he would have hit the ground, Krum pulled out if the dive and rolled away, leaving Lynch to slam into the ground. 

 

Harry, who had been screaming the whole time the two seekers were diving, was left hanging over the edge of the box, exhausted. Krum had been feinting; Harry could not believe the nerve of the man who was back in the air and using the time it took Lynch to recover to look for the snitch in peace.

 

“Wronski Feint,” Draco said weakly beside Harry. 

 

“Yeah, bloody brilliant,” Charlie replied.

 

Ireland pulled further ahead after Lynch got back on his broom. The Irish Chases determined to avenge their Seeker. A penalty awarded to Ireland caused the Veela to become angry. Harry fell back in his seat as the beautiful women turned into terrifying bird-like creatures and started throwing fireballs.

 

 One set the referee’s broom on fire, at the same time one of the Irish Beaters hit the bludger towards Krum breaking his nose. Harry cried out, yelling at the referee to notice that Krum was hurt. However, the referee was distracted by his burning broom. 

 

While all this was happening, Lynch actually spotted the snitch and dived towards it. “He’s seen it; Lynch has seen the snitch,”  Bagman screamed behind them. 

 

Krum was immediately on his tail, diving right behind the Irishman. The two seekers were headed towards the ground again. 

 

“They're going to crash,” Ron yelled. 

 

“No, Lynch is,” Harry screamed in reply, and sure enough, the Irish seeker hit the ground again. Viktor Krum rose in the air with the snitch in his hand. 

 

It was not enough; Ireland had been too far ahead, and Bagman was yelling the final score: Bulgaria 160 points, Ireland 170.

 

Harry was emotionally wrung out as the result sunk in and he slumped in his seat.

“He caught the snitch when Ireland were too far ahead,” Ron said in confusion. 

 

“They were never going to win,” Harry said automatically.

 

“The Irish Chasers were too good,” Charlie added. 

 

“He ended it on his own terms,” Harry declared.

 

Draco put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Come on,” he whispered. “It’s time to go.”

 

The two boys bid farewell to the Weaselys and followed their parents out of the box and back down the many, many stairs. The crowd was flowing out of the stadium. The Irish fans were all celebrating, while the Bulgarians looked somewhat deflated. The four members of the Malfoy family made their way to the tent and collapsed into the soft chairs around the fire. The elves brought more hot chocolate out for the boy and something stronger for the adults. 

 

When they had finished their drinks, Narcissa sent the boys off to bed, and Harry sank into the soft mattress and snuggled under the soft, warm blankets. He was emotionally wrung out from the energy of the match and those dives. Krum was incredible, and Harry knew he was going to try out the Wroski Feint as soon as he had the opportunity. Harry fell asleep listening to the sounds of the Irish celebrating their victory. 

 

It seemed as if he had just fallen asleep when he was woken up by his mother whispering urgently for him to get up. 

 

Harry looked up at Narcissa. She looked scared, and Harry was instantly alert. The sounds outside the tent had changed. The crowds were still loud, but they sounded angry now that there was an explosion, and Harry flinched. “Get up! Now, Harry,” Narcissa said urgently. You need to get out and into the forest. Something is wrong, and Lucius has gone to find out what is going on.”

 

Harry did not ask questions he got up, pulled on his robe and shoved his feet into his shoes. Draco was waiting at the entrance of the tent. Narcissa kissed each of them on the head and bid them be safe, and they took off running towards the trees. 

 

They ran until the sounds of the crowds faded, and then they stopped to catch their breath. “We need to move a bit closer,” Harry said when he had his breath back. “We need to know what's happening,” he told Draco. 

 

The blond nodded, and they slowly made their way back to where they could hear again. Harry peered through the trees, trying to see what was happening. 

 

“Did you see that?” a voice spat nearby. “They were levitating those muggles.” Harry recognised the voice of Hermione Granger. He felt sick. 

 

“Yeah, I saw,” Ron replied, sounding as ill as Harry felt.

 

Harry saw the shape of the two Gryffindors moving the way he and Draco had come and he pulled his brother down out of sight. The last thing they needed was another argument or to draw attention to themselves. Draco sat on the ground behind Harry, and the two of them watched what was happening at the campsite through the gap in the trees. 

 

A bright burst of light lit up the crowd, and Harry saw people in black robes, their faces hidden by hoods. Above them, four figures struggled while they hung in the air. Harry could not see their faces, but it was clear they were a family; the mother was holding her nightdress, trying to stop it from falling over her head. The children were crying, and the father was yelling at the wizards below to let his family down. 

 

Draco froze, and Harry turned to look at him.”What?” Harry demanded. “What is it?”

 

“Death Eaters,” Draco whispered.

 

“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry said.

 

A scuffle broke out behind them, and someone screamed. Harry ran towards the sound, but he tripped over an exposed root and fell face-first onto the ground, his wand flying out of his hand as he hit the ground. “My wand,” he said in panic. 

 

“It can't have gone far,” Draco said calmly, and they began to search the area. 

 

“Huh! Slytherin scum,” Ron said pointing his wand at Harry and Draco. “Where are your parent’s Malfoy? Out there levitating innocent muggles?” 

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Weasel?” Draco sneered.

 

Before Harry could step in, a voice to their right yelled a spell, and something erupted in the sky. A giant skull with a snake moving around and through it. The crowd responded immediately; the people in black robes vanished, and the ministry workers moved quickly to prevent the muggle family from hitting the ground. There was terrified screaming, and the four students suddenly found themselves surrounded by people. 

 

“Who did it?” Fudge screeched. “Who cast it?” 

 

“I found a wand, sir,” an Auror in red robes said 

 

“That’s mine,” Harry said 

 

The Auror cast a spell on the wand, and the image of the skull appeared, and Fudge rounded on Harry. “You,” he blustered. “You cast it!”  he roared 

 

“Cast what?” Harry asked. 

 

“The Dark Mark,” Fudge bleated. 

 

“It wasn't Harry,” Hermione said derisively. “He lost his wand.”

 

“Lost his wand, huh? A likely story,” Crouch said with a slightly crazed expression on his face as he looked down at Harry.

 

“Seriously?” Bill Weasely said, crossly stepping into the clearing. “Think about what you’re saying, he’s Harry Potter.” 

 

“Do you really think Harry Potter would cast the Dark Mark, Barty?” Arthur Weasley asked quietly as he came to stand beside his son. 

 

Fudge deflated, and Crouch disappeared without further comment. “Give the boy his wand back,” Arthur told the Auror. Who looked at Harry in his Slytherin green robe and sneered, but he handed the wand over. 

 

“Back to your tent, boys,” Arthur told Harry and Draco. “Bill, Charlie, walk them back, please.”

 

“Sure,” Bill said, stepping over to Harry while Charlie walked over to Draco. The four of them made their way back to their tent. Harry looked around at the ruined campsite; tents had been blasted apart, and some had caught fire. People were searching for family members; others were apparating away without bothering to take their belongings.

 

Narcissa was standing in the entrance of the tent, watching for the boys. She ran out when she caught sight of them and drew them both into her arms, thanking the Weaselys profusely for bringing them back safely. When Bill and Charlie had gone, Nacissa called for Dobby and instructed him to take Harry home.

 

Dobby grabbed Harry’s hand, and he found himself in the Entrance Hall of Malfoy Manor moments later. Severus was pacing as if he had been waiting for their arrival. 

 

The moment he saw Harry, he moved towards him, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “You’re alright,” he whispered as he pulled Harry into a tight hug. 

 

“How did you know?” Harry asked as he wrapped his arms around his betrothed.

 

“I received a Patronus message from Albus asking me if I knew where you were. I had no idea why he was asking so I floo called him, and he told me about the…” 

 

“The Death Eaters,” Harry whispered. “Did you hear about the Dark Mark?” Harry asked. 

 

Severus sucked in a breath “No,” he said.

 

“It was my wand, Sev. Someone took my wand and used it?” Harry told him. He leaned back to look at his betrothed, hoping for an explanation. He still did not understand exactly what had happened.

 

The man pulled Harry back against him as Narcissa and Draco appeared in the Entrance Hall. Severus met Narcissa’s eyes; the usually calm and collected woman looked dishevelled and scared. “Narcissa,” he said softly. 

 

Tears welled in the woman's eyes. “Oh, Sev,” she whispered, still holding onto Draco. The woman kissed her son's head. “Take Harry upstairs,” she told him. “I will come up after I talk to Severus.”

 

Draco nodded. Severus released Harry with a kiss on his hair, and the two adults went to the study. Lupin, who had been watching from a distance, followed them. 

 

Harry went with Draco to their room, where they both sat on the couch. Harry looked at his brother, who was even paler than usual. “Do you have any idea what just happened?” he asked. 

 

Draco pressed his lips together. “Have you ever seen the tattoo on Uncle Sev’s arm?” 

 

Harry tilted his head. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

 

“It’s the Dark Lord’s symbol. Those people in masks were Death Eaters, and that spell…that was the Dark Mark,” Draco explained.  

 

“I figured all that out, but who cast it, and why did all the Death Eaters disapparate when it was cast?” Harry asked. 

 

Draco shrugged “I don’t think they were expecting it. I mean no one knows he’s back. Unless tonight was supposed to be some kind of announcement of his return but then Father and Uncle Sev would have known about it.”

 

Harry sighed and threw himself back on the couch. They would just have to wait and hope Narcissa could tell him what had happened. If she couldn’t, well then Harry would be demanding an explanation from Tom Riddle. 

Chapter 5: A new year begins

Summary:

Harry finds solace in Severus' company in the aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup. Barty Crouch Jr makes an appearance, and the new school year begins.

Notes:

This chapter begins with the events at the World Cup from Barty Crouch Jr's perspective. This story will have a slightly wider viewpoint than the original, and some different storylines will be added.

Rewind - several hours before the boys arrived home…

“Morsmordre.” 

The Dark Mark burst from the end of the wand, and Barty Crouch Jr. looked up, admiring his spell work. It had been too long since the Mark of his Lord had graced the sky, and the reaction to its appearance was both instantaneous and glorious. The fools in the masks who were playing at being Death Eaters all disappeared, vanished, like the cowards they were; Barty growled at their pathetic display. 

 

The Ministry moved in the moment the pretenders were gone, preventing the muggles from hitting the ground. Casting the borrowed wand aside, Barty returned to his father's tent. He could finally throw off the imperious curse every time his father recast it, and soon he would leave his father’s dubious care and start on implementing his Lord's Master plan. 

 

Following the tree line to avoid being seen, Barty slowly made his way back to the tent his father had caged him in. As he got to the edge of the clearing, he heard shouting, and he stopped to listen. His father’s voice travelled towards him, accusing the wand's owner of casting the Mark. Barty was surprised and pleased to discover that it had been Harry Potter’s wand which had sent his Master's Mark into the sky for the first time in 13 years; it seemed somehow poetic, and he was sure that the news would amuse his Master, and he could not wait to report to him.

 

Barty continued making his way back to his father's tent. When he got inside, he collapsed onto the single bed in his prison, which his father called a bedroom.  It was the same bed he had slept in as a child on the two occasions his father had taken him camping. The sound of panicked campers was dying down as the Ministry took control of the situation. Rolling onto his side, he called for Winky, but the elf did not appear. He called again, and this time he was answered by a pained squeak from the elf and his father's roar. 

 

“What were you doing out of the tent?” Crouch Sr yelled at the terrified elf.

 

“W..Winky was looking t..to see what the noise was, sir,” the elf squeaked. The sound was followed by a dull thump and another pained squeak, followed by sobbing. Forgetting he was supposed to be locked in his room, Barty Jr flew out the door and glared at his father. 

 

“You dare to strike my elf, father," he snarled. 

 

The elder Crouch whirled around to look at his son. “W..what are you doing out of that room?” he whispered, before furiously rounding on the cowring elf. “Stupid elf, you were supposed to keep him here,”  Crouch Sr raised his hand to cuff the elf again, only to feel his body stiffen as he fell hard on the ground in a full body bind. He remained conscious but was completely unable to move.

 

His son stood over him with a wand, pointing at his throat. “You will release Winky to me,” he demanded. 

 

The man was shocked, and his mind raced. How was it possible that his son had a wand? He gritted his teeth and snarled. “I won't,” he refused with a nasty glint in his eye. “If you go, you'll go without her, and you know what will happen to her,” Crouch Sr snarled. 

 

Crouch Sr grinned as his son’s face contorted into a pained grimace. “I see we will be doing this the hard way, Father,” he said and raised his wand again. Pain, the like of which the older Crouch had never experienced before, tore through his body. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.  Finally, the pain stopped, and he panted, trying to regain his composure as his nerves twitched painfully.  He looked up at his son, who had moved so his feet were straddling him, and he was trapped with no means of escape.

 

The younger man smiled a terrifying smile. “I think what you meant to say, Father, was ‘You are released from your bond with me, Winky, I give you freely to my son’s care,’” Barty said, his wand pressing into his father's neck. 

 

The older man shook his head, and the pain came again. This time, when it stopped, Crouch Sr did as his son demanded and released the elf. Barty smirked down at the man. “Thank you, Father. I would say it’s been a pleasure to see you again, but it really wasn’t. However, I am grateful to you for getting me out of that hellhole and enabling me to go back to my true Master. My Lord was the only one who ever saw my real value, I was never good enough for you. My Lord, though, he saw my true worth. Farewell, Father.”

 

Barty stepped away from the prone man and gently gathered up the stunned house elf. “It’s alright, Winky, you're safe now," he whispered to her, and he apparated away, directly to Riddle House, to prepare for the next part of his mission.

Harry Potter sat curled up in an armchair in the laboratory at Malfoy Manor. He had spent hours sitting in that very chair since they had returned from the Quidditch World Cup. Severus' presence was like a soothing balm to the invisible bruises he could feel on his skin. The words of the Minister and the man he now knew to be Barty Crouch Sr had stung like he had been struck. Harry had not understood at the time exactly what had happened or even what the Mark in the sky had meant.

 

He had seen the Mark before on Severus’ arm. He knew it was Voldemort’s Mark and that Voldemort had used it to brand his Death Eaters, to mark them as his. The day after they got home from the World Cup, Severus had taken him aside and explained more about the Mark. He told him how it had been cast above any site where the Death Eaters had attacked people and that it was always cast where people had been killed. It took some time for Harry to process this information and understand that the Mark would have been cast about the cottage where his parents died, and this realisation made him furious all over again, and he was even more hurt that he had been accused of casting it.

 

The entire Wizarding World called him the boy who lived. They celebrated him as the one who had defeated Voldemort, yet they were very quick to accuse him of casting Voldemort's Mark; he, who had lost his parents to the man. Harry was furious because they could not have it both ways; either he was the boy who defeated Voldemort, or he was a Death Eater. He was currently seriously considering the latter; Tom could be difficult, but at least he was consistent.

 

There had been an article in The Daily Prophet the day after the event, naming him as the caster of the Dark Mark and questioning if he had been tainted by the Dark Lord’s magic the night his parents were killed. Harry wished he could have been surprised by it, but given how quickly his fellow students had decided he was the Heir of Slytherin and therefore evil just because he could speak Parseltongue, he was not really all that shocked. The paper had retracted the article and published a full-page apology the next day, after Miss Saari had sent them a letter threatening legal action. However, Harry was still hurt. 

 

Severus was busy brewing for the hospital wing; he had lost a few days in the aftermath of the World Cup. he had returned to Hogwarts for a day to reassure Albus that Harry was fine. On his return, he had been drawn into discussions with Lucius, Narcissa and Maragrite about how to deal with The Daily Prophet and the public backlash from the article. They had decided to allow the papers' apology to speak for them and did not release a statement.

 

Harry had spent every day since the article was published in the lab, and Severus was worried about him. He surreptitiously kept watch over his young charge as he worked. Harry sat curled up in the chair with his head resting on his arms. He did not speak; he just sat there, and when Narcissa had come down to ask him why he was sitting down there and not enjoying his last few days before school returned, he had replied that he felt safe here with Severus. No one had questioned him further after that, leaving him in Severus’ care. There were only two days until their return to Hogwarts, and for the first time, Harry was not looking forward to it. 

It was getting close to midnight as Barty Crouch Jr arrived in the backyard of one Alastor Moody. The retired Auror was living in a Muggle neighbourhood of all places. Barty shuddered as he walked through unexpectedly strong wards; the old man was more paranoid than Barty had expected. There was a loud crash, and suddenly Barty was knocked down by a Muggle rubbish bin. It was joined by two other bins, which were bouncing around the lids, clattering. Barty had just managed to cast a ‘finite’ at the bins when the back door flew open, and a furious Mad Eye Moody appeared as a silhouette in the doorway of his home. 

 

The old Auror had his wand in his hand, and he was shouting threats into the darkness. Barty did not answer, he simply drew his wand and stunned him before he could get any further out the door. Then he sent the bins clattering into the street to hopefully attract the attention of the Muggle police. It would take time for the report of magical bins to reach Arthur Weasley, the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Department, so Barty had plenty of time to prepare the scene.

 

Barty had brewed the polyjuice potion at his Master’s house and Rookwood had given him a lot of very useful information about Alastor Moody, by the time the Muggle-loving Weasely arrived, Barty would have the old Auror stored away in his own magical trunk, and he would be all set to make his debut as Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody. If he managed to fool Arthur Weasley, then he would prepare himself for the biggest challenge: convincing Albus Dumbledore that he was, in fact, his old friend Moody and getting Harry Potter’s name into the Goblet of Fire.

Lucius Malfoy strode purposefully through the Ministry; he was having no luck with his questioning of the rules for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He had lodged his query with the Minister and with Madam Bones, but he was getting nowhere. Since the fiasco at the World Cup and  Dark Mark being cast, the entire Ministry had been in a frenzy. Fudge was desperately trying to downplay the event, insisting it had been nothing more than a tasteless and thoughtless prank. This overly simplistic view of events overlooked the fact that only Death Eaters had ever been able to cast the Mark.

 

The Auror department had taken over Arthur Weasley’s raids and were knocking on the door of everyone who had ever been suspected of being a Death Eater. Even Lucius had received a Notice of Intent to Search; clearly, being Harry Potter's guardian only got him so much leeway. He handed the letter to Margarite, and she contacted the department to make the arrangements for the search to take place while the family were out. 

 

As September 1st crept closer, Luicus made a last attempt to challenge the Tri-Wizard rules in the Wizengamot. Unfortunately, his petition was denied. The rules were declared to be perfectly adequate, and Lucius was assured he was worried about nothing. Albus Dumbledore himself was in charge of the protections on the Goblet of Fire; therefore, nothing untoward could possibly happen.

 

The Wizengamot did agree to a caveat being added to the rule stating that any minor whose name was drawn out would be declared an adult. The caveat was that in the event of a minor being selected by the Goblet of Fire, the young Champion’s previous Magical Guardian would be entitled to either act as a mentor to help the young Champion or appoint another fully qualified wizard as their mentor. This was considered to be an acceptable compromise in a tournament where cheating was part and parcel of the game.

 

Lucius had not been happy with the outcome, but it at least gave him a starting point for a plan to keep Harry alive when he inevitably got dragged into the Tournament, if not by the Headmaster then by Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord had been too quiet for too long, and with Rookwood at his side, it was too much to hope that he was not aware that the Tri-Wizard Tournament was being revived.

 

The Dark Lord was getting stronger. Severus had prepared the potions required for the soul-mending ritual as requested, and Luicus knew that the Dark Lord had conducted at least one ritual. The last time he had met with his Lord, the man had been much saner than he had been before his downfall, and both Lucius and Severus believed he was planning something to announce his return to full power.

 

Margarite had gone over the rules for the Tri-Wizard Tournament with a fine-tooth comb, and she had made several recommendations for protecting Harry. The first of which was that Severus should step forward and declare himself Harry’s Magical Guardian before the tournament began. The solicitor argued that having Severus known as Harry’s guardian might act as a deterrent to anyone planning to add his name to the Goblet.

 

The wisdom of Severus revealing himself as Harry’s Magical Guardian, especially given that their betrothal would be announced on Harry’s sixteenth birthday, was the topic of much discussion between the adults in Harry’s life. While it was not unheard of in the Wizarding World for a Magical Guardian to marry their young charge, or arrange a marriage within their family for them, the practice had fallen out of favour in recent years. Thus, it was decided that Harry needed a new Wizarding Guardian.

 

It was fortunate that Severus had gone to Gringotts the day he took guardianship of Harry; that meant no one in the Ministry knew who Harry’s Magical Guardian was, so no one would ever know if it had changed. The Goblins were the very soul of discretion; they loved refusing to disclose information to the Ministry. Therefore, after much discussion and consultation with both Harry and Petunia, it was decided that Essie Daniels would become Harry’s Magical Guardian. 

 

Essie’s appointment would serve two purposes: first, Dumbledore would not push too hard against her, knowing that she had evidence of his machinations regarding Harry’s so-called letters to the Wizengamot and that he had known how Harry was treated by his relatives. Secondly, it was plausible that Petunia would have known about Essie and might have contacted her when seeking a new guardian for Harry.

 

Petunia had to be consulted as she would need to know what to say if anyone asked her about Harry’s guardian. Petunia confirmed she had suspected that Essie Daniels was a witch, and there had been a few times she considered asking her to help with having Harry removed from her care. She had never done so because she had not been completely sure Essie was a witch, and she had not wanted any questions raised about her ‘care’ of Harry.

 

Harry was delighted with the idea and even happier that Essie would be coming back to live in England. He had felt guilty that she was forced out of the country because of him, even though Essie herself had told him she was perfectly happy living in Vienna.

 

Essie herself was delighted to be asked and she immediately accepted the the role of Harry’s guardian; privately, she could not wait for the Headmaster to find out. Papers were drawn up, and Essie returned to England. Dumbledore would not dare to come after her now that his contract with her had been judged as null and void. Essie returned to her London Flat and quickly took on four new students and got a part-time job as a French teacher in a Public girls' school.

The documents were drawn up and signed the day before the boys headed back to Hogwarts. Luicus was not as relaxed as he usually was as he farewelled Draco and Harry on Platform 9 ¾. Narcissa tucked her hand in the crook of his arm as they stood watching the departing train. Lucius looked down at his wife, he knew she was just as concerned about Harry. 

 

Narcissa gave her husband a reassuring smile as they stood on the empty platform. “We’ve done all we can, Luicus. You know Severus will do all he can to protect him, and if Harry does end up in trouble, we at least have a plan in place to keep him safe. Now let's go home and wait for the boys’ owl.”

 

The train ride to Hogwarts was much the same as usual, Harry sat with Draco, Daphne, Blaise, Theo and Pansy. They discussed at length the only difference was Fred and George arriving at their cabin just after the trolley had been past.

 

“Harrykins,” they greeted him as they slid into the compartment and took a seat opposite him beside Draco.

 

“Fred, George,” Harry returned. “To what do we owe the honour?”

 

Draco rolled his eyes but said nothing while Pansy snorted rudely. 

 

Harry glared at the dark-haired girl who sat back and folded her arms across her chest as she returned his glare.

 

The twins ignored the rest of the Slytherins, keeping their eyes on Harry. “We were hoping you might be able to give us some information,” George said.

 

“In return for the gift we gave you last year,” Fred added. 

 

Harry lifted his chin, The twins had not mentioned wanting anything in return for the Marauder's Map, which they had given to him so he could avoid his fellow students at the height of the Sirius Black fiasco. However, the Map had come to mean much more to Harry than the twins could know; it was something that had belonged to his father, so he nodded. “If I can provide the information you want,  I will,” he replied. 

 

Fred grinned. “Tell us, Harry, do you know what’s happening at Hogwarts this year?” he asked. 

 

Draco snorted, “You have a father and brother in the Ministry, and you don't know,” he said derisively. 

 

George looked over at the Draco. “Draco,” he said as if he had just noticed the blonde. “Charlie told me to say hi for him, so hi,” he said with a cheery wave. 

 

Draco flushed and sat back in his seat without another word. Harry smiled at the twins, and George winked at him.

 

Harry smiled at George. “You're in luck, I do happen to know what's going on, but why didn't your father or brother tell you?” 

 

Fred rolled his eyes. “It’s confidential Ministry business,” he said in a rather accurate imitation of his older brother. 

 

“Dad wants whatever it is to be a surprise for us, and Percy, well, he just likes knowing things we don’t,” George explained.

 

“The thing is…”  Fred cut in. “We overheard Bill and Charlie talking, and Charlie said he is going to be at Hogwarts later this year, and Bill said he was considering coming back to watch.”

 

“They said it would be good sport, and if it’s sport, we’d like to know if Mr Bagman is involved,” George finished. 

 

“Mr Bagman?” Harry replied, scrunching up his nose. 

 

“He was the commentator at the World Cup,” Fred said

 

“He is the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports”, George added.

 

“And he cheated us,” they said in unison.

 

“Oh, Merlin, you didn’t make a bet with him, did you?” Daphne piped up with a concerned frown. “He’s not the most honourable Wizard.”

 

“Yeah, we learned that the hard way. He paid us with Leprechaun gold,” Fred told her. 

 

“Oh,” Daphne said with a grimace.

 

“What’s wrong with Leprechaun gold?” Harry asked. 

 

“It disappears after a few days,” Daphne explained. 

 

Harry thought about that. He had kept one of the coins from the match, but he had never noticed it had disappeared; he decided not to mention it and returned his attention to the twins. “As I said, I do know what's happening at Hogwarts. It's something called the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and Hogwarts is hosting it. I don’t know if Bagman is involved, but if he’s the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sport, I’d say there’s a fair chance he will be there,” he told them. 

 

The twins' faces lit up. “Brilliant,” they said in unison. “Thanks, Harrykins. We knew we could count on you.”

 

The twins left as soon as they had what they had come to find out, and Harry contemplated the door for a while after they had gone. 

 

“Knut, for your thoughts,” Daphne whispered. 

 

Harry raised his eyebrow. “Only a kunt?” he asked. 

 

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Fine, don't tell me then,” she returned. 

 

“I was wondering,” Harry said. “What do those two need money for?”

 

Daphne considered the question. “Hummm, that's a good question. Ludo Bagman is a notorious  gambler; if he took money from them, it must have been a decent amount.”

 

Harry sat back and mulled over that information, he would have to keep an eye on the twins this year. He glanced over at his brother, who had not said a word since George had mentioned Charlie. Harry thought it was cute that Draco had a crush on Charlie Weasley, but then he remembered his father's odd reaction to the Weasleys and filed it away in the ‘Ask Severus later’ basket. 

 

He let his mind drift to the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He knew his parents and Severus were worried that he would somehow end up involved in it. Harry had to concede that if anyone underage was going to end up competing in the Tournament, it would most likely be him; his luck with that kind of thing was notorious.

 

The rest of the train ride passed by fairly quickly. Theo and Blaise played exploding snap, Draco read his new Arithmacy text while Daphne dozed on Harry’s shoulder. Harry sat back so as not to wake the girl and watched the scenery change as they moved into Scotland. 

 

Just before they arrived at Hogsmede, Harry gently shook Daphne awake so she would have time to put on her robe. The fourth year made their way to a carriage and climbed aboard. Harry took a few minutes to greet the thestral before he climbed in and settled next to Draco and Daphne. 

 

Harry pressed his face to the window and watched as the Castle came into view. Hogwarts had a special place in his heart. It had been his escape from the Dursleys, and thanks to Severus, he had found a real home and real family here.  Sirius had been upset that Harry had not gone to Gryffindor, but Harry could not regret his choice. 

 

Sitting in his seat at the Slytherin table, Harry watched as the new first years filed in, looking terrified. Professor McGonagall unrolled her scroll, and the sorting began. Harry tuned out somewhere around the letter M. Then, finally, Dumbledore stood up to welcome them all back and to begin the feast. 

 

The food appeared, and Harry realised he was starving.  He started to pile up his plate with a bit of everything, as he did, he glanced up at the staff table there was one empty chair. Harry ran his eyes over the staff and realised there was no defence teacher. He nudged Draco. “Someone’s missing, there’s no defence teacher,”  he whispered.  

 

Draco glanced up at the table and shrugged. “Maybe the Headmaster couldn't fill the position,” he replied. 

 

Harry frowned “What happens then?” he asked. 

 

Draco looked blank. “I don’t know.” 

 

“The Ministry will send someone, usually an Auror,” Daphne told them.

 

Just then, the doors to the Great Hall crashed open, and a man stood in the middle of the double doors. He was tall but not exceptionally tall, he had broad shoulders and sandy blond hair, there was a scar on his cheek, but the thing that caught Harry’s attention was the man’s eyes. One eye was normal, the other was bigger and was obviously false; it was held in place by a leather strap, and instead of focusing where the man was looking, it rolled around in all directions. Harry felt dizzy just looking at it. 

 

The man stood in the doorway for several minutes before he began making his way to the teacher's table. He had a pronounced limp, and his progress was slow, and he walked between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. 

 

 Dumbledore had risen to his feet the moment the man appeared, and now he held his arms wide in welcome to the newcomer. When the man finally reached the Headmaster leaned forward to speak to the man, who shook his head as he replied before moving to take his seat on the other side of Minerva. 

 

“Look at Uncle Sev,” Draco hissed in Harry’s ear. 

 

Harry looked at his Head of House, and his jaw dropped. Severus’ face was twisted in such an expression of hatred that Harry had to look away. He had no idea what this man could have done to inspire such a look, not even Sirius had warranted such a reaction from his betrothed. 

 

Dumbledore had remained standing, and as the new teacher took his seat, falling roughly into the chair as if his leg had given out on him. The Headmaster spread his arms again and said warmly, “Please welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Alastor Moody.”

 

Silence rang through the Great Hall at the announcement. Those who had heard of Moody took a good look at the man, whose reputation of being a vicious Auror proceeded him. It was said he had killed more Death Eaters than he had captured. He was regarded as both a hero and a loose cannon. 

 

“Who is Alastor Moody?” Harry asked softly. 

 

“He was an Auror. One of the best, they say, but his reputation is kind of dark,” Daphne told him.

 

“Killed a lot of suspected Death Eaters,” a seventh-year boy sitting three places up the table said, looking at Harry.

 

“Suspected?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. 

 

The boy shrugged. “Moody didn’t care who he killed, and he didn’t wait for proof,” he said bitterly.

 

Harry swallowed, suddenly he wasn’t hungry any more.

 

The feast continued, and people began talking again, increasing the noise level. By the time dessert appeared, Harry had regained enough appetite to nibble on a slice of treacle tart.

 

When the tables were cleared, the Headmaster got to his feet and made the usual announcements. Then with a wide smile, he said.  “And lastly and most importantly, it is my very great pleasure to announce that this year at Hogwarts, we will be hosting a very special event,” he paused for dramatic effect, and Draco rolled his eyes. “This year, for the first time in 200 years, the Tri-Wizard Tournament will be held here at Hogwarts.”

 

The room erupted in noise. There was cheering and shouting from anyone who knew what the Headmaster was talking about, but Harry noted there were plenty of very confused faces. Dumbledore waved his hands for silence. “Yes, yes,” he said over the noise. “It is all very exciting. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstang will be arriving at the end of October, and the Tournament will begin with a feast on Halloween, where the Tri-Wizard Champions will be drawn from the Goblet of Fire.”

 

The Headmaster went on, giving a brief history of the Tri-Wizard Cup, but Harry wasn't listening; he was watching the Weasley twins, who seemed to be plotting. Ron, too, had a strange expression on his face, almost like the one he had at the Quidditch World Cup when the Veela came out onto the pitch.

 

Harry’s eyes continued to roam around the room, almost everyone was excited about the Tri-Wizard Tournament, only a few people looked worried or annoyed by the announcement. When the Headmaster finished talking, he called on everyone to stand for the school song before dismissing them all with a wave of his hands. 

 

Severus arrived in the Common Room a little later than usual for his welcome speech. He gave much the same speech every year, reminding them about signing up for study groups and to make sure they took care of each other, especially the first years. 

 

The man looked tired. Harry studied him carefully; his reaction to Moody had been extreme, and Harry wondered if he had any prior warning. Last year, when the Headmaster appointed Lupin Severus had known several weeks before school returned. Harry was not sure if he had known about this teacher. 

 

Severus dismissed them all with a firm directive to go to bed, as it was Thursday and there would be classes in the morning. Harry wanted to follow his betrothed, but the man caught his eye and shook his head. Harry would have to wait until tomorrow night when they would have their Friday night hot chocolate. 

 

The fourth-year boys all made their way to their dormitory. Theo and Blaise took showers. Harry usually showered in the morning, but tonight he knew would need some extra help to fall asleep, so he took a hot shower before he crawled into his bed and drew the curtains. 

 

Tomorrow, the new term would begin, and as much as Harry hoped for a trouble-free year, he had a nagging feeling that Mad Eye Moody had dragged trouble into the Castle with him, and trouble always seemed to find Harry when it was about. 

Chapter 6: The calm before the (first) storm

Summary:

The year begins, and everyone is talking about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Professor Moody makes an impression, and Dumbledore plots.

Notes:

Edit - In the previous chapter, I wrote that the Tri-Wizard Tournament had not been held for 700 years. This was incorrect, as Daphne discovers in this chapter. I have corrected the previous date.

I am sorry for the slow updates. I had hoped to have more time to write this term, but so far, I seem to have had less time. I will try to do better.

Some events in this chapter belong to JK - sadly, that can't be helped.

 

 

Remus Lupin sat in his room at Malfoy Manor and let his thoughts consume him. Severus had spent several long hours with him before his return to Hogwarts, helping him to piece together the remnants of his memories. It had been a long and arduous process, which had required him to allow Severus to poke about in his mind, looking for the torn scraps of his removed memories and tying them to the feelings he had about those memories. It created an imprint of what had happened, which Lupin could examine and try to fill in the blanks from what he did know.

 

The process was aided by an almost impossible-to-brew memory draught, which fewer than ten people in the world could brew; fortunately, Severus was one of those few. The potion did not restore memories; nothing could give him back what Peter had taken, but what it did do was restore the broken connections in his mind. Once these were restored, Severus had used his skills as a Legilimens to pick up the fractured memories and, using the feelings Lupin had around the memories and what remained of Remus’ memories, he created a picture of what might have happened. Remus then had to work through what he knew to complete the picture.

 

The pieces came together like a jigsaw puzzle, and even though some pieces were missing, the image as a whole was recognisable, and Lupin was able to figure out almost everything that had happened around Lily’s plan to protect Harry. Severus had offered to let Remus read Lily’s journals if Harry agreed, and the young man had given his permission. Harry himself was not quite ready to read his mother’s words, but he knew one day he would want to know what they contained.

 

The process had been exhausting but well worth it. Finally, he understood most of what had taken place. Lily had not trusted Dumbledore because she believed that he had given her potions to encourage her to fall in love with James. Lupin was horrified at this revelation, and although his memory failed him, he was sure he would have insisted that James could not have known anything about it. James loved Lily, Remus was absolutely certain on this point, and he would not have taken her by force. 

 

He could not remember Lily’s response to his insistence, but his calmness around the idea of Lily and James together suggested that she had loved him, though perhaps not as blindly as it had first seemed. Severus, too, was certain of Lily’s love for her husband. Lily’s annoyance at James had stemmed from his pure-blood belief that the safety and protection of the home and family lay with the man of the house. 

 

Lily had wanted to have her say in the protection of her son; she had been sure that James' trust in the Headmaster was misplaced, and Flemont Potter only encouraged her in that belief. Fleamont and his brother, Charlus, were not the Headmaster's biggest fans, and both had encouraged Lily away from his counsel and supported her to take steps of her own to ensure Harry’s safety. 

 

Remus knew now it had been Lily who pushed for the marriage contract; she had wanted it specifically for Harry and Severus, but Charlus counselled her towards a family contract. Such a contract could only be set aside by the Head of the Families; therefore, it was less likely to be broken. Lily had accepted that, and evidently, the contract had been made. 

 

Lupin had no direct memory of the contract or of Lily’s plans to create a rune to go under Harry’s crib, but he knew both things had happened. He remembered Lily’s regret at losing Severus’ friendship, and her sadness when she realised she would likely never get to see him again. This, he was sure, was what had led her to write the journal Severus had spoken of but had never let him see.

 

Severus, Remus had learned, was not the man he had believed him to be. He had always thought James had the right of it, that Snape was a Death Eater, loyal to the Dark Lord and only interested in the destruction of Muggles and the rights of purebloods. He wondered where that idea had come from, because it could not be true. If it were true, Severus would never have loved Lily the way he did, and he would not love Harry the way he did. There was no question in Lupin’s mind that Severus did love Harry; his wolf could scent the man’s intentions, and they were pure.

 

Remus had quite a lot of questions for Sirius, too. He wanted to know why the man had believed Peter when he told him that Remus was the traitor. It must have been the Rat who told James and Sirius that Remus had left, but what had he told them to make them believe Remus was a spy, a traitor to their cause? Remus had been hopelessly in love with Sirius Black, and he would never have done anything to jeopardise his new relationship.

 

Brushing away the tears he could not hold back, Remus stood up and headed to the bathroom. He would not get his answers while Sirius was still so ill. All he could do right now was be there for the man he still loved and hope that one day he would get him back, and together they could earn Harry and Severus’ trust.

Alastor Moody, aka Barty Crouch Jr, sat in his staff quarters with a lovely glass of red wine. It was Alastor's favourite, apparently, and Dumbldore had left it in the room for his old friend. Barty almost felt guilty for not sharing, unfortunately, Alastor was not being cooperative, and Barty was keeping him drugged for the time being. It was a simple sleeping draught which would not do any damage long term, but would allow Barty some quiet. 

 

He had been in the castle for two weeks and so far no one suspected anything least of all the Headmaster. Which was odd given how close Rookwood had said the man was to Moody. Barty knew he was good, but to be so comprehensively fooling a lifelong friend was unexpected.  However, given the conversation he had just had with Albus, the man truly believed Barty to be his trusted ally.

 

The meeting had been spur of the moment, at least that was what Barty had thought, but on reflection, he believed the old man had planned it very carefully, and this might explain why he had been so distracted that he had not noticed the cuckoo among his teaching staff. Albus had called Moody into his office for a drink and a catch-up. Barty had been a little nervous; this was precisely the type of situation which might have led to his discovery, but Albus had been…odd even for the Headmaster.

 

The older man had talked at length about their relationship and about how they had always relied on each other in their fight against the Dark Lord. Then Albus had leaned forward and asked an unexpected question. “Do you trust me, Alastor?” he had asked with a very serious expression.

 

Barty had put his glass down and returned the Headmaster's steady gaze. What could he say to that question? He followed his instinct and tempered his reply. “We’ve been through a lot, Albus,” he said carefully. “Seen a lot of things, done a lot of things. You’ve never given me reason to doubt you,” he replied, hoping it was the truth.

 

The old man seemed to relax at that, and he sat back again in his armchair and ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “I have a problem, Alastor,” he began.

 

Barty said nothing, but he did not remove his gaze from the Headmaster. 

 

“You see, old friend, the steps I took concerning young Mr Potter have not worked out quite as I had hoped they would. He was sorted into Slytherin, as you no doubt were aware, and he is currently living with the Malfoys. As if that weren't bad enough, he is very attached to Severus, who has taken an almost unnatural interest in the boy.” Albus took his eyes off his glass and looked to his friend for a reaction. 

 

Barty spread his legs and leaned forward as he reached for his glass. “It’s not like you to admit a failing, Albus,” he observed. 

 

The Headmaster stiffened, and Barty worried he had said the wrong thing.

 

“It was not a failure, the plan was sound, I simply miscalculated. I expected the boy to be like his father, but instead, he is more like his mother. Lily was a Gryffindor, and she was as brave and daring as any of them. However, she was never suited to be the wife of a pure blood heir,” Albus observed almost sadly. “She was a great loss, one I regret deeply.”

 

“Albus?” Barty asked with uncertainty. 

 

“My apologies, Alastor, please forgive an old man’s ramblings. The point is, I need Harry to understand his role in the coming war. I need him to step up and take on the mantle of the boy who lived. He will never do that while Severus protects him and Narcissa coddles him. I need your help, old friend. I need you to break through the enchantments of the Goblet of Fire and get Harry Potter’s name into it. It will need to be in a whole separate category to ensure it's chosen. This year, the Tri-Wizard Tournament must have four competitors.”

 

The man had pinned Barty to his seat with a gaze which was like a spear through his chest. He floundered for a moment, but then he recovered himself, and he pinned Albus with a look of his own. “You're certain this is the best path, Albus?” 

 

“It’s the only path,” the man said, his tone hard.

 

“And you really want to take on Severus and the Malfoys with this?” he pressed. 

 

“I must, Alastor. The boy needs to realise what he’s capable of; His power, Alastor…it is immense. He needs to understand that his power is the key to defeating Voldemort. If he would just let me teach him…but he won't, he doesn't trust me. However, if he were to compete in the  Tri-Wizard Tournament, he would be forced to draw on his power just to survive. He would be forced to see exactly what can be achieved with his power, and he would see how much good he could do; with the right mentor, he could win the tournament,” the man had insisted.  

 

Barty was shocked that Dumbledore was asking him to do the very same thing his Lord had asked. Swallowing his laughter, he looked the old fool right in the eye and said. “Alright, Albus, I will assist you. Do you know how to get around the enchantments, or is that why you asked me?”

 

The Headmaster had relaxed then, and he had spent the next hour showing Barty exactly how to disable the enchantments on the Goblet of Fire to trick it into believing there were four schools. Barty had to work very hard not to roll his eyes when Albus christened his fourth school The Order of the Phoenix Academy. 

 

All that was left to do was to put Harry’s name in the Goblet once it was lit and placed in the corridor for the would-be champions to nominate themselves. Barty smiled as he sipped his wine. Maybe he should buy a bottle or two of this vintage, he could offer it to Alastor when he finally got around to telling him this story.

The school was awash with talk of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the visiting schools. Harry had not even considered the possibility of foreign schools, though when he thought about it it made sense Hogwarts could not be the only one.

 

 “Mother and Father considered sending me to Durmstrang,” Draco said lazily. The Slytherin fourth years were out by the lake enjoying the autumn sunshine on Sunday afternoon. Draco was lying with his head in Pansy’s lap, and Harry was sprawled out beside Daphne, who was reading an ancient book she had borrowed from the restricted section with a note from Severus.

 

“Really,” Harry replied. “That would have been unfortunate.”

 

Draco raised an eyebrow “Because you would never have known the joy of having me as a brother?” he asked. 

 

“No, I was thinking you’d never have met Ch…” Harry did not get to finish his sentence as Draco hit him with a silencing spell. Harry rolled around on the rug laughing hysterically, but no sound came out of his mouth.  

 

Daphne gave Draco a disapproving look. “Honestly, Draco. It’s not like we don't all know what he was going to say,” she reproved. She removed the charm from Harry just as he began to gasp for air. “...and you,” she said, glaring at the chortling boy. “...should know better to say things like that outside the common room, you can’t say things like that where anyone might hear you!” 

 

Harry managed to compose himself, he glanced up at the girl who was still pointing her wand at him. “Yes, Mother, sorry Mother,” he said with a smirk. 

 

Daphne huffed and put her wand away. Returning her attention to the book she still had in her other hand, she pointed to the section she had just been reading. “This tournament is horrific,” she announced. “The last year it was held in 1792, a cockatrice, the champions were supposed to be catching, went on a rampage and injured three judges - a cockatrice!” she exclaimed, pointing at the page to illustrate he point. 

 

“Don't worry, Daphne,” Blaise said easily. “The Champion is bound to be from Gryffindor, and they love that sort of thing.” 

 

“People have died, Blaise, that's why they stopped holding it.” Daphne retorted.

 

“The Champion could be from Slytherin,” Pansy said with a sly glance at Harry. “Potter could just about be a Gryffindor.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes, I am not a Gryffindor,” he muttered.

 

“Of course you're not, brother dear,” Draco drawled. 

 

“I am sure there will be rules, an age limit or something,” Theo said evenly. 

 

Daphne sighed. “Yes, I am sure you're right, Theo, I mean a cockatrice - for Merlin’s sake,” she said as she closed the book and lay down beside Harry.

 

Harry looked over at the girl who had thrown one arm over her face to shield it from the sun, and he smiled and took her other hand in his. “It will be fine, Daphne, you’ll see, and if I do win, I shall dedicate my achievement to you.” 

 

“Mr Potter,” a voice called out across the grounds before Daphne could respond to Harry’s comment. The whole group looked around to see Professor Snape striding across the grass towards them. 

 

Harry scrambled to his feet and hurried over to see what the man wanted. Daphne watched him go with a strange expression on her face. Harry was very responsive to Professor Snape; all the Slytherins were, of course, but Harry was even more so, and he spent a lot of time with him. If she did not know better, she would think that maybe there was something more to that relationship. 

Discussion of the Triwizard Tournament dominated conversations, and  for the rest of the week, it was all anyone could talk about. Speculation was rife among the students about how the champions would be chosen and what the students from other schools would be like. There was also discussion of who the Hogwarts Champion might be, there was no shortage of people keen to put their name forward.

 

The Tri-Wizard Tournament was only surpassed by talk of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Moody was creating waves among the students who had already attended his class. Reviews were mixed, but on the whole, people were excited to learn from a man who seemed to be some kind of legend.

 

Tuesday afternoon, Harry made his way into the courtyard where the Slytherins usually sat when they had a free period. As he walked down the corridor, he heard snippets of conversation.

 

 “I can’t believe it is really him…”

 

“Mad Eye Moody…he’s a legend…”

 

“He’s amazin’ so cool tracking down all kinds of dark wizards…”

 

“So cool, when do we have him?”

 

Harry was intrigued by the comments; neither Severus nor his father had much to say about the man, but the look on Severus' face when the man had arrived had Harry worried. Moody seemed to have quite a reputation as a tough Auror who would stop at nothing to find and arrest dark wizards.

Harry rounded the corner and walked down the outside corridor to the courtyard. As he drew near to where he could see Daphne sitting, he heard a raised voice. Then he heard Draco reply with a snarl. Harry could not make out any of the words until he heard the loud crack of a spell and a booming voice. 

 

“Oh no you don't, laddie,” the voice yelled, and Harry ran into the courtyard just in time to see a white ferret bouncing up and down with the movement of Moody’s wand. “Ye - don’t - hex - your - opponent -when - his - back - is - turned,” Moody said as the ferret bounced.

 

A group of Gryffindor students were laughing. Daphne and Hermione were both looking shocked. Before Harry could ask what was happening, Professor McGonagall arrived. 

 

“Alastor?” the severe woman said cautiously “What are you doing?”

 

“Teaching,” Moody replied 

 

“Is that? Is that a student?” McGonagall asked in horror. 

 

“Yep, fired a hex at another student while his back was turned,” Moody explained. 

 

“We do not use Transfiguration as a punishment, surely the Headmaster told you this?” Minerva said, stepping in and cancelling the spell. Harry saw Draco land heavily on the ground the his hair a mess and his robes covered in dirt and grass. 

 

Harry rushed forward to help his brother stand up, then, with a withering look at the laughing Gryffindors, he helped him back to the common room. They went straight up to their dorm. Draco had not said a word the whole walk back, and when they got to their room, he grabbed some spare clothes and headed straight to the shower, not even stopping to answer Harry’s worried questions about what had happened. Harry was standing still looking a the closed bathroom door when Severus arrived. 

 

The man looked at Harry and raised his eyebrow, Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know exactly what happened, but Professor Moody turned Draco into a ferret and bounced him up and down. Professor McGonagall stopped him,” he reported. 

 

“Draco was having a go at Ron Weasley about the article in the Prophet about his dad. Apparently, Weasley senior is in trouble over something to do with…rubbish bins,”  Theo said from the door. 

 

Harry went over to Draco’s discarded robes and hunted through them until he found an article cut from the paper. 

 

Further Mistakes at the Ministry 

 

The headline read.

Harry scanned the article it reported on a series of mistakes made by the Ministry. It began with security and the Dark Mark being cast at the World Cup, it listed several other things Harry had not heard about and last it reported a run in Mr Weasley had with some Muggle rubbish bins. Harry noted the paper had even got his name wrong referring to him as Arnold. The article went on to tell how Mr Weasley had ended up in a confrontation with Muggle Police when he went to investigate reports of a charmed rubbish bin at Mad Eye Moody’s house. 

 

Harry glared at the door to the bathroom and handed the article to Severus, who scanned it and snorted. Then he turned to look at the small group of fourth years who had gathered at the door. 

 

“Mad Eye Moody is a dangerous man. I don't want any of you provoking him or giving him reason to pay attention to you individually. Keep your heads down around him, do I make myself clear?” Severus demanded.

 

“Yes, Sir, Professor,” the fourth years all said together.

 

“Harry, bring Draco to my quarters when he's done in the bathroom,” Snape ordered, then swept out of the room.

 

Harry looked at his friends but no one said a word. Then Daphne blew out a sigh, “Professor Snape is right, Mad Eye Moody is not going to treat us fairly. I think we might need to hold a house meeting I will go and find the prefects,” she said and left the door way Pansy going with her. 

 

Harry looked at Theo and Blaise, both of whom looked shocked by the events. “Go with the girls, Daphne is right, we need to make sure everyone is on their guard around Moody if he is going to do things like this,” Harry told them.

 

The two boys nodded and left the room, it was best if Harry handled Draco on his own. An angry and humiliated Draco was an unpredictable Draco and Harry did not want any casualties. 

 

“Dobby,” Harry called.

 

“Yes, sir Master Harry, what can I’s be doing for you?” Dobby asked as he appeared. 

 

Dobby, are you able to take Draco and me to Severus’ room’s I don't think we should be seen going there right now,” Harry asked the elf.

 

“Of course, Master Harry,” Dobby replied promptly. 

 

“Even if Draco doesn't want to go?” Harry questioned. 

 

Dobby grinned, “Oh yes, sir, Dobby can be’s doing that.”

 

Harry nodded grimly and sat down to wait for Draco to appear. He had a bad feeling about Mad Eye Moody. He had a sneaking suspicion Severus was afraid of the man, and that did not bode well for Slytherin House.

Severus paced in his living room, trying to decide what to tell Harry and Draco about Moody. The man was a menace, and he was downright unsafe to have in a school full of children. Especially the children of Death Eaters.  Severus knew very well that the parents of many of his students were Death Eaters who had not been caught. Most had been under suspicion, but nothing could be proved, and they had gone free. It was well known that Moody hated nothing more than a Death Eater who went free. Severus knew from painful experience that the Moody had been vicious on raids he had hexed first and asked questions later.

 

The man had a reputation for not giving up and not caring whether he left suspects dead or alive. Severus had heard the man say on more than one occasion that the only good Death Eater was a dead one. The cells in Azkaban were full because of him, but so too were the wixen cemeteries. 

 

 Severus had once been a loyal Death Eater, and although he was not convinced that the Dark Lord’s ideas had been completely wrong; his methods for creating change had been very wrong. However, there had been a time when Severus had supported him and his ideals, right up until Lily was threatened. It was perhaps a trifle hypocritical of Snape to leave the Dark Lord over his threat to the life of a Muggle-born, but Lily had been his best friend when he had no one else.

 

He had lost Lily to the Dark Lord, but he had lost several good friends and one lover to Moody’s wand, and he would not lose anyone else to the man. He would put Harry and Draco on their guard if it were the last thing he did.

 

A loud popping startled him out of his dark thoughts, and he spun around to see Harry, Draco and Dobby on his hearth rug. It was smart of Harry to call the elf, it was better that no one saw Harry and Draco come to his rooms. He knew that Dumbledore had the portraits and ghosts reporting to him, and no doubt Moody would be sneaking around too.

 

“Thank you, Dobby,” he said to the elf. “Would you bring us some tea, please?”

 

Dobby popped away to get the tea, and Severus motioned to the boys to sit down. Harry looked warily at Severus, but he did not recognise the expression on the man’s face. It was more guarded than he had ever seen it. He was worried about something, afraid even.

 

“Stand up, Draco, I need to do a quick check for injuries,” Severus said as the tea appeared. Harry moved to pour while Severus checked Draco over; after a few minutes he gave a satisfied nod. “Nothing of serious concern but you must be more careful Draco, you know what Moody is capable of doing.”

 

Harry passed a mug to Severus and sat back on his heels. “I heard he was vicious, but surely he can’t get away with what he did to Draco?” he asked.

 

“I doubt the Headmaster will do anything about it. He and Moody are old friends, and Moody is one of his Order of the Phoenix. You will do best to stay out of his way,” Severus told them. 

 

“I wasn’t in his way and Weasely hexed me first,” Draco growled. 

 

“Be that as it may, you cannot expect fair and equal treatment given who you are,” Severus said bluntly.

 

“A Malfoy?” Draco asked, frowning in confusion.

 

“Yes, and a Slytherin. As he sees it, your father escaped justice, and he is not above taking that out on you. In fact, I think that is precisely what he did today,” Severus told him.

 

Draco stared at his Godfather, worry in his eyes. “You think he will do it again?”

 

Severus shook his head. “I doubt it. Minerva will have words with the Headmaster, and she will remind him who your father and brother are. He does not want to make an enemy of Harry.”

 

“Too late,” Harry muttered. 

 

Severus looked amused. “Harry, you especially need to be careful, the Headmaster will have Moody watching you. That Eye of his can see through any disillusionment spell. I don't know about your cloak, but I would not risk it,” he warned.

 

“You think he will try something?” Harry asked.

 

“I cannot be sure, but I have no doubt  Albus has a reason for bringing him here; he has a plan, and I need you to promise me you will not be alone with Professor Moody, nor will you do anything to attract his attention to you,” Severus ordered.

 

Harry gave his betrothed a careful, considering look. “He hurt you,” he observed.

 

Severus flinched. “You have been told he hexed without waiting for a reason and that he did not care if he killed people he believed to be death eaters. He was a strong supporter of the people who sent Sirius and many others to Azkaban without a trial,” the man told them.

 

He stopped and looked at his Godson. “Draco, go back to the Common Room, and if the prefects have not already called a meeting, make sure they do, tell them I will be along shortly to address the whole House. I need to speak with Harry first.”

 

Dobby appeared at Severus' call, and Draco was gone. Silence fell, and Harry sipped his drink, waiting for his bethrothed to speak. “You might hear talk about people who died by Moody’s wand in the Common Room, and you need to know that one particular man…Evan Rosier was…he was my lover, Harry. He was older than me, and he had been in the Dark Lords' Service for several years before I was recruited. He was kind to me, he helped me overcome a lot of the damage done to me by my father. I want you to know that what Evan and I had was not serious. He was the heir to his father’s Lordship, and his parents were negotiating a marriage contract for him, but while he was free, we…well, we were together.” 

 

Harry felt a strange feeling ripple over him as Severus spoke. It was not quite jealousy; he could not be jealous of a lover Severus had before he was born, but he did not like the idea.” 

 

“Are you saying that Moody killed him?” Harry asked. 

 

“Yes, in one of the last big raids before the Dark Lord fell. I was not there, but it was reported that Moody cut him down before he even gave him a reason,” Severus said softly. 

 

“Did you love him?” Harry asked. 

 

“No, I don't think so, we had mere months together, and as I said the relationship had no future. I have not had many lovers, Harry. I will tell you one day if you want to know, but for now, I wanted you to hear about Evan from me.” Severus told him. 

 

Harry tilted his head, he wondered why Severus was telling him this now. “Is there someone in Slytherin who is related to Evan, someone who would know and say something?” 

 

Severus nodded carefully. “Yes, when Evan died, the Lordship passed to his sister Cara. She was already married to Michael Bole, heir to the Bole Lordship. Lucien Bole is her youngest son and he is the heir to the Rosier Lordship. His older brother Adrien will be Lord Bole.”

 

Harry nodded. “Ok, thanks for telling me, I know you have a past, Severus, and eventually I might want to know, but not yet,” he said slowly. 

 

“No, now is not the time,” Severus agreed. “I just didn't want you to hear about Evan from someone else. Lucien will likely know about Evan and with Moody here, he might share the story of his Uncle and your Head of House.”

 

“Thank you, I am glad you told me,” Harry said with a small smile.

 

“I need to go to the meeting, which should be happening in the Common Room now. Call Dobby and get him to return you to your Dorm, then join us in the Common Room. I need to see to my Head of House duties and ensure my students stay safe.” Severus said as he stood up.

 

Harry replaced his teacup and stood up. He moved quickly towards Severus and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist. Severus wrapped his arms around the boy's shoulders and kissed the top of his head. They stood like that for several minutes before Harry pulled back and called for Dobby.

 

 

Chapter 7: Let the games begin

Summary:

Halloween never brings anything good for Harry, and he expects nothing less than complete disaster this year. However, when the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrive, things begin to look up. Harry makes a new friend, and he has a very enjoyable weekend.

Until names are entered into the Goblet and champions are selected...hold on to your hats, the game has begun.

Notes:

Hello,
I am sorry for the slow updates. I had hoped this term would give me more time for writing, but somehow I have even less time.

I had intended to reread The Goblet of Fire or, at the very least, watch the movie, but I have not had time, so I have decided to just write. Therefore, some details will match with canon, others will not; there will be several deliberate deviations from canon as Essie returns to stir up trouble for our beloved Headmaster.

As always, thank you for reading ✨💚✨

 

Halloween had never been a great day for Harry. When he was 18 months old, his parents had been killed on Halloween. When he lived at Privet Drive, it had been just another day of trying to be invisible. That was until Dudley’s friend Piers had gone to live in America for a year. Piers' family had moved to the US for a whole year on some exchange program, and Piers had come back full of stories about life in the US; the worst one for Harry was Halloween. 

 

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon already had a horror of anything which could be considered magical,  and Halloween was too close for their comfort. Piers, however, convinced Dudley that he would be missing out on a lot of fun if he were not allowed to dress up or decorate his house. Eventually, Vernon and Petunia gave in, but not before giving Harry a stern talking-to about not engaging in any funny business. Harry had no idea what they meant, but he promised anyway. The first year, they had decorated their house with skeletons and ghosts, and Dudley had gone to Piers’ house for a spooky party. Harry had stayed home to cook dinner for his aunt and uncle before being locked in his cupboard. He had, however, eaten well. Petunia had insisted it was for the best if he was well-fed; she had not said why, and Harry had not questioned her.

 

Unfortunately for Harry, Halloween on Privet Drive was not a one-year thing. It became a tradition which, much to his aunt and uncle's horror, spread through the entire street and became an annual event. Every house in the street and even some of the houses in the surrounding streets began decorating for the occasion. Mrs Figg seemed to particularly enjoy it, and her house became the neighbourhood children’s favourite scary house. All the neighbourhood children went door to door trick or treating. All of them except Harry, who was forced to do all the work to prepare, but on the night, was locked in his cupboard. 

 

Being at Hogwarts had not improved the day for Harry. In his first year, Halloween brought a troll into the dungeon. The second year had seen the Chamber of Secrets opened, and in his third year, Sirius Black had broken into the castle. This year, Halloween would mark the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament. 

 

Harry tried to be excited; he did, but a bad feeling gnawed deep in his gut. It was a familiar feeling for Harry; it came whenever he was uncertain about what was going to happen, but was anticipating something unpleasant, and it made him too nervous to properly enjoy the celebratory atmosphere in the Castle. 

 

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive on the Friday before Halloween; the visitors would have the weekend to settle into Hogwarts before the Champions were announced at the Halloween Feast on Monday night.

 

Classes were scheduled to finish early on Friday, to allow the students to gather at the front of the Castle and watch the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrive. A feast was planned to welcome the guests on Friday night. The usual Halloween feast would be on Monday, and the three Triwizard Champions would be announced.

 

Harry had a free period before lunch on Friday,  so he was curled up on one of the sofas in the Common Room when his housemates began to pour in just before lunch. Everyone was so excited, talking, laughing and speculating about how Champions would be chosen. Harry heard an overexcited first-year telling her friend that prospective Champions would have to battle a dragon to prove their worthiness to be chosen; her friend had scoffed and insisted it would be a duel between all the candidates, which would decide the Champions. 

 

Closing his book, Harry waited for Draco to find him. Draco had just come from Arithmancy, and Daphne had been helping Hagrid feed the animals. She had asked Harry to join them, but he had preferred to spend some time alone before the madness of visitors and feasts. 

 

It did not take long before Harry was surrounded by his friends, all of whom were as excited as the rest of the house, and they were all getting their excitement out of their system to maintain the dignity of Slytherin House in the face of international visitors. 

 

“How are you feeling?” Daphne whispered as she slid onto the sofa beside him and took his hand. They had continued their close association this year. Everyone in Slytherin knew it was because they were both in betrothal contracts, and the rest of the school simply assumed that they were dating. 

 

“Fine, I guess,” Harry replied, squeezing her hand. “I mean, what's the worst that can happen?” 

 

The blonde girl huffed but did not answer the question. They both knew the worst that could happen, but neither was willing to voice it. Severus had been very quiet on the topic since the first staff meeting when the teachers learned about the plans for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry knew the adults around him were worried that the Headmaster might not be able to resist the opportunity to show off the ‘Boy Who Lived’, especially to an international audience.

 

Harry worried about the same thing, only he thought it more likely the Headmaster would see it as some kind of a test. He had been deeply suspicious of the obstacle course set up to protect the Philosopher’s Stone, and although he knew that Tom had been behind the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, the Headmaster had seemed far too pleased with Harry’s involvement in Ginny’s rescue. 

 

Draco arrived and flopped down on Harry’s other side with Pansy in tow. The dark-haired girl smiled at Harry and said, “Come on, Potter, don’t be such a glum bumble. Maybe nothing will happen this year,” she said encouragingly. 

 

Draco snorted. “I am sorry, but have you met my brother?” he asked her incredulously. Pansy rolled her eyes at Draco while giving him a sly grin. Harry wondered, not for the first time, if Draco was interested in girls or if he and Pansy were just putting on a show.

 

“Stop it, both of you,” Daphne snapped, glaring at the two smirking Slytherins. Then, taking hold of Harry’s shoulder, she looked him in the eye and said, “Whatever happens, Harry, we are all on your side, and we will help you however you need.” Her glare slid back towards Draco and Pansy, daring them to continue their flippant conversation. 

 

Harry nodded, “I know, thanks, Daphne. Come on, let's go and see what all the fuss is about,” he said, reluctantly standing up and pulling Daphne up with him. 

The entire school was gathered on the steps of the castle, waiting for 5:00 pm to arrive. Harry had just begun to feel like an idiot, standing there staring at nothing, when the people around him began pointing to the sky and exclaiming. Looking up, he saw a dot on the horizon which was growing steadily bigger until it was revealed to be a giant carriage pulled by the biggest winged horses Harry had ever seen. 

 

Beside him, Daphne was in heaven as she watched the beautiful creatures circle,  before landing with a grace which belied their size, and without jolting the carriage. There was silence for a moment, and then a door opened in the side of the carriage and the Beauxbatons student delegation glided down the ramp, which had magically unfolded. 

 

“Oh,” Pansy exclaimed as the blue-clad students arrived at the bottom of the steps, all looking around, taking in the sight of Hogwarts. Harry watched them until his attention was drawn back to the carriage as the largest woman he had ever seen emerged; In stark contrast to the pale blue uniforms of her students, the headmistress was dressed in a red and black cloak with some kind of feathery collar. 

 

Applause broke out as the woman reached the end of the ramp, and Albus moved forward to greet her. Harry could not hear what they were saying, but Dumbledore, who was not a short man, barely had to bend to kiss the woman's offered hand. 

 

Dumbledore’s magically enhanced voice broke through the noise which had risen. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” he announced with pride to the guests, before turning to his students. “Please welcome our guests: Headmistress Madam Maxime and her students from Beauxbatons.”  

 

Applause sounded again, and Harry watched as Dumbledore made a summoning gesture and Hagrid appeared at his side. The headmaster had cancelled the sonorous charm, so Harry could not catch the whole conversation, however, the headmaster seemed to be offering Hagrid's services in caring for the horses.  The tall woman gave Hagrid an assessing look, then finally inclined her head and waved him towards the beasts. Harry thought he heard her say something about single-malt whiskey. Hagrid nodded enthusiastically, then set about the task of removing the horses from their harness.

 

Madam Maxime then led her students up the steps and into the Castle. “They must be freezing,” someone behind Harry said as they passed by, and Harry noticed their uniforms looked to be made of particularly light material.

 

“Well, they should have brought coats,” replied Hermione Granger, sounding irritated. 

 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Honestly, have you never heard of warming charms? They can be applied to fabric by skilled seamstresses, and they are very common on designer clothing, especially on fabric as nice as that,” the girl sounded envious. Hermione gave Pansy a furious glare.

 

The excitement of the Beaxbatons' arrival had not settled before the lake began to bubble. The water looked like it was boiling, and Harry was worried for a moment about the creatures living in it. Then a ship rose out of the surging water. It was a black and skeletal-looking ship, almost like a Ghost Ship; it rose out of the water and sailed slowly toward the jetty. However, it stopped several meters away from the shore, and a gangplank slid out of the ship, bridging the distance to the jetty. 

 

“Water must be too shallow for it to dock,” said an Irish voice behind them. As applause broke out again for the new arrivals.

 

“Well, obviously,” Hermione snapped. Harry did not have to turn around and look at the girl to know she had her arms folded across her chest and was probably glaring at Seamus. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something to Pansy, which made her squeal with laughter and glance over her shoulder at Hermione.

 

The Durmstrang students marched down the gangplank onto the jetty and towards the lakeshore, like military cadets. Dumbledore moved towards them and greeted the stern man who was the last off the ship. He was dressed in furs, leather boots and a long woollen coat, he made a striking figure. 

 

The Headmaster cast a sonorous charm on his throat and welcomed the new arrivals, Headmaster Karkaroff and the students from Durmstrang. The tall man gave a short, sharp bow towards Dumbledore before motioning for his students to follow him into the Castle behind the delegation of Beauxbaton students.

 

 The Headmaster turned to address the Hogwarts students, reminding them that dinner would be an hour later at 7:00 pm. Harry and his friends turned and followed the crowd back into the castle. As they got to the door, they heard Ron Weasley shouting about entering the competition while Hermione argued that he would be too young and surely the headmaster… Harry did not hear what it was that the headmaster would surely do, and honestly, he didn't care. The excitement of the other school's arrival had chased away his worries, and he was beginning to feel some of the excitement of his fellow students. A grin broke out across his face as he listened to Daphne gush about the horses and Draco about the ship. 

 

The Great Hall was decorated in honour of their guest, Beaxbatons' blue banner was hanging with the dark red and black of Dumstrung alongside the Hogwarts banner. All four tables had been extended to allow for extra people. Harry and his friends settled in their usual spots. The Great Hall was much louder than usual as everyone talked over each other. 

 

The teachers were seated, and when quiet finally fell over the student population, Professor Dumbledore stood up and bid everyone welcome. Then, he spread his arms wide as he said. “Please, put your hands together and welcome our guests from Beauxbatons Academy.” 

 

The Door opened slowly, and a flock of conjured birds flew in, followed by the students from Beauxbatons. 

 

Whispers broke out all over the hall. 

 

“Veela,” 

 

“They’re veelas,” 

 

“They can’t be, there are boys in the group.”

 

“Well, obviously, not all of them, just the ones at the front.”

 

The new arrivals ignored the whispers, as they moved with the easy grace of dancers down the middle of the room between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables. They lined up in front of the teacher's table before taking a seat at the Ravenclaw table. 

 

Dumbledore was on his feet again, his eyes twinkling as he announced the delegation from Durmstrang.

 

The door, which had closed behind the first group of students, slammed open, causing all the students to snap their heads back around to see the next group of visitors enter, marching like well-trained soldiers, and striding behind them was a single student who was vaguely familiar. 

 

The whisper was louder and more urgent this time. 

 

“Krum,” 

 

“That’s him, it’s Krum.”

 

“It’s Viktor Krum,” 

 

The Durmstrang students waited for their teacher to reach them before heading to take a seat at the Slytherin table, and somehow Harry found himself sitting beside Viktor Krum.

 

Headmaster Dumbledore rose to his feet a third time and held up his hands for quiet. “Thank you to our international friends for travelling here to Hogwarts. I know our students and staff are excited to have you with us and are keen to show you a warm welcome. We are thrilled to have you join us for this school year, and I do hope you will enjoy your time at Hogwarts. I would hope that all Hogwarts students take the opportunity to extend the hand of friendship to our international guests and maybe build lifelong friendships and connections,”  He smiled benevolently at the students. “I am certain you are all very keen to hear about the tournament and how the champions will be chosen. I assure you that it will be revealed after we have enjoyed the feast prepared for us by Hogwarts’ elves,” he waved his hand, and the food appeared on the tables. 

 

Harry reached for one of the bowls in front of him and found it contained some kind of meat and potato dish, which Harry had not seen before. “It is Moussaka,” said a deep, gravelly voice beside him. 

 

Harry turned his head and looked at the tall boy beside him. “It’s what?” he asked. 

 

“Moussaka is made with meat, potatoes and vegetables with a sauce made of tomato, the top is flour, eggs and yoghurt. It’s good, we eat it at home,” Viktor told him. Harry shrugged and put some on his plate before handing the dish to Viktor.

 

“Where is home?” Daphne asked as she put some salad and a pastry on her own plate. 

 

“Bulgaria,” Viktor replied. “My parents still live there, but I spend most of the year at school or our team training camp on the Romanian border.”

 

The conversation flowed easily and naturally, much to Harry’s surprise. Viktor Krum may have been an international Quidditch star, but he was a very down-to-earth and softly spoken man. Harry very much enjoyed their conversation, which consisted of a lot of questions about Durmstrang, while Viktor and the three other Durmstrang students, who were sitting near them, asked questions about Hogwarts. 

 

When the meal was eaten, Dumbledore stood again and introduced the other new faces at the teacher's table. Harry recognised Minister Cornelius Fudge, as well as Mr Crouch, the Head of International Magical Cooperation and Ludo Bagman, Head of Magical Games and Sport. 

 

The appearance of Bagman made Harry glance across the room towards the Gryffindor table. The twins had their heads together and were deep in whispered conversation, and Harry frowned. Then he caught Ron’s eye; the redhead scowled angrily at him, and Harry was taken aback, unsure what he had done to deserve the look of loathing Ron was directing at him. 

 

Then Ludo Bagman stood up to speak, and Harry tore his gaze away from Ron and refocused on Bagman. The man was bouncing on his feet, his face shining with boyish excitement and obvious joy at being there, talking about the Tournament. 

 

“Hello, students of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and of course Hogwarts. It’s brilliant to be here with you tonight. This year promises to be an exciting one with the reintroduction of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He stopped speaking as wild applause and excited cheers broke out. 

 

“Yes, yes,” he said, waving his hands. “It's all very exciting, I know, but just try and keep calm while we explain the rules and how the Champions will be chosen.” At this pronouncement, the door of the Great Hall slammed open again, and a large silver and crystal Goblet was carried in by several ministry officials in dark blue robes. 

 

“Unspeakables,” Daphne whispered to his left. Harry looked at her. “Really, how come Mr Rookwood never wore those robes?”

 

“They’re only for ceremonies when the Department brings out magical artefacts like this. That’s the Goblet of Fire, it is one of the most mysterious objects in the Department of Mysteries, no one knows much about it or how it works,” she explained. 

 

Harry did not take his eyes off the Goblet as it was carried up to a table which had not been there before, but which someone must have conjured. Standing around the table were Bagman, Barty Crouch and the Headmaster. The Goblet was lowered gently onto the table, and as it dropped into place, a bright blue flame shot out of it toward the enchanted ceiling before settling down to burn softly in the cup. The four people who had brought the Goblet in stepped to the side of the three men standing around the table.

 

“This magnificent artefact is the Goblet of Fire. The Goblet selects the Champions who will compete for the glory and honour of their school and, of course, for the 1000 Galleon prize, which will be awarded to the person who wins the Tournament,” Bagman announced, his face glowing with excitement. “Anyone wishing to be selected as the Champion for their school must put a piece of parchment with their name and school written on it into the Goblet, and then, after the feast on Halloween night, the Goblet will select the most worthy Champion for each of the three schools.” 

 

Instantly, whispers broke out across the Great Hall, and Dumbledore raised his voice and spoke over them. “There will, of course, be some safeguards. Only students who are of age, that is to say, 17 years of age, will be able to put their names in the Goblet,” he told them. 

 

Barty Crouch puffed up at the disappointed groans of many students. “It is for your safety,” he snapped. “The Triwizard Tournament is not something to be entered into lightly. The Champions who are ultimately selected will face tasks which are not only magically challenging but also dangerous. Only students who have reached their seventh year of study could hope to have the skills to successfully navigate the set tasks.” 

 

The Headmaster nodded sagely. “That is correct, to that end, I will be drawing an age line around the Goblet when it is placed in the Entrance Hall tonight. The Goblet will remain there over the weekend, then on Monday, we will gather for the traditional Halloween Feast and the Champions will be named,” He announced. 

 

The noise rose again, and Dumbledore waited a few moments before once again calling for quiet. “The Goblet of Fire will be placed in the Entrance Hall tonight, and it will remain there until Monday afternoon, when it will be collected and prepared for the big announcement at the Halloween Feast. Now to bed with you all. Tomorrow is Hogsmeade Day for those in the third year and above. I trust you will all enjoy your weekend.”

Harry rose from the table and looked at Viktor. “Do you have to go back to the ship, or do you have room in the Castle?” he asked. 

 

“We have a room in the dungeons, I believe,” he replied, looking around for his teacher. 

 

Igor Karakaroff arrived suddenly and put his hand on Viktor’s shoulder. “You have eaten well?” he demanded. 

 

Viktor nodded. 

 

“Excellent, let us go then,” he said brusquely, waving his hand indicating Viktor should walk ahead. Turning to Harry and Daphne, Viktor thanked them for the conversation over dinner and left with his teacher.

 

The Slytherin students made their way down to their dorms. When they arrived at the entrance to their Common Room, they noted several Durmstrang students looking lost in the hallway.  Harry was about to ask if they were ok when Severus appeared, muttering the way he did when he was irritated, and led the students to the guest corridor.

 

The dungeons were unusually crowded, so Harry made a show of knocking on Professor Snape’s office door and pushing it open before entering the office. Severus would be alerted to Harry’s presence by the spells on his door, so Harry made himself comfortable on the office sofa while he waited for the man to return so they could have their usual Friday hot chocolate and check in.

 

It was almost an hour later when Severus arrived and ushered Harry through into his sitting room. The man looked exhausted as he sat down in his chair, so Harry called for Dobby to bring the hot chocolates, and he waited for Severus to speak. 

 

“Minerva has graciously offered to take my patrol tonight,” he began. “I was not aware the delegations would be staying in the Castle until just before the Feast. Filius has had to accommodate the Beauxbaton students in Ravenclaw Tower.” 

 

Harry hummed into his cup but said nothing. 

 

“I honestly don’t know why Igor bothered to bring a whole delegation. He might as well only have one student for all the care he showed the rest,” he continued. 

 

Raising his eyebrow, Harry asked the obvious question. “You mean Viktor?” 

 

Severus glanced at the boy. “Yes, I noticed you two seemed to be getting along well.” 

 

“He’s nice, I like him,” Harry told his betrothed. 

 

“That’s good, your mother will be pleased that you are making connections,” he said with a smile.

 

Harry hummed again. “Do you know Headmaster Karkaroff?” 

 

Severus did not meet Harry’s eye as he nodded slowly. “I did, a long time ago.” 

 

Harry did not press if Severus wanted to share; he would, and if he didn't, then Harry would leave it be. He had learned that if something was important, then Severus would always tell him. 

 

“Igor was a Death Eater. One of the few International allies the Dark Lord was able to recruit. He wanted Igor because he is the Headmaster of Durmstrung. I think he hoped to recruit more followers from the school. When the Dark Lord was defeated in Godric’s Hollow, Igor was arrested. He traded his freedom for names, mine was one of those names. I went to Azakban on his evidence until Albus had me released,” Severus said, staring into the fire. 

 

Harry said nothing, but he slid closer to Severus and kept his eyes on his betrothed. Severus spoke like this when he was telling Harry something he felt Harry needed to know for them to have a strong relationship in the future. He had begun doing this more frequently, and it made Harry feel warm inside. 

 

“I see,” Harry said softly. “So not your favourite person then?” 

 

Severus scoffed. “Indeed,” he paused and then said. “I do not want to discourage you from building connections with Durmstrang students, but when you are in the presence of Igor, be cautious. You are the boy who lived…” 

 

Harry opened his mouth to object to this title, and Severus held up his hand. 

 

“I know you don't like that moniker, but it is how the majority of people see you, and many people believe it was you who defeated the Dark Lord that night.  Igor can be a dangerous man, and I would counsel caution, that is all,” he explained. 

 

Harry nodded, “Alright, I will be careful.”  

 

The weekend progressed fairly normally. On Saturday, Harry and Daphne decided to stay at school rather than go to Hogsmead. Instead, they worked on their homework in a quiet corner of the library; they had just set up for the day when they were joined at their table by Viktor Krum. The three worked on their projects until lunch, when they made their way to the Great Hall. Viktor noticed Hermione sitting alone at the Gryffindor table and pointed her out to Harry, asking who she was. Harry told him and offered to introduce them, Viktor flushed, and Harry called out to Hermione to stop her leaving; after lunch, Hermione joined them in the library to study.

 

The Goblet of Fire had been placed in the Entrance Hall, and Professor Dumbledore had made a show of drawing the age line around it. Harry had largely ignored the Goblet as he had little interest in watching people put their names in. He had heard that Cassius Warrington had put his name, and according to Hermione, so had Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor. 

 

As Harry was leaving the Great Hall after breakfast on Sunday, he noticed a familiar bushy head lurking near the staircase. The girl paid him no attention as he approached; when he followed her eyes, he saw why Viktor Krum had just put his name in the Goblet and was chatting with the Weasley twins, who were behaving rather suspiciously, Harry thought. 

 

Viktor farewelled the twins and, with a glance at Hermione, he headed off to the library. The girl moved to follow, but before she had gone far, there was a loud crack and one of the Weasley twins flew through the air after being ejected by the age line, and he landed on the stone floor sporting a long white beard. The headmaster appeared from nowhere, his eyes twinkling with laughter, while admiring George’s very fine beard.

 

Hermione huffed and stalked off without a word, towards the library. Harry headed to the dungeon; he still had not discovered the reason for Fred and George suddenly needing money badly enough to make a bet with Ludo Bagman. he made a mental note to find out. 

 

There were no classes on Monday as students were encouraged to socialise and make new friends. Harry, who had been dreading Halloween for weeks, found the day passed quietly enough, spending most of the day in the library with Viktor and Hermione. 

 

In just a few days, Viktor had amassed a fan club, and they followed him all over the Castle. On Monday, they discovered his habit of studying in the library and spent several hours pretending to read while watching him study. They ignored Harry when he arrived and joined Viktor at his table, but Hermione got furious glares; Harry rolled his eyes, likely he would never understand girls. He said nothing, however, as both Hermione and Viktor seemed unperturbed by their audience.

 

Harry enjoyed Viktor's company, and he found studying with the older boy was very helpful. Viktor was a good student, and he had a lot of insight into the theory of transfiguration and charms. The fact that Viktor seemed to enjoy Hermione's company was neither here nor there as far as Harry was concerned, however, Ron Weasley did seem to be bothered by it. Harry noticed Ron had joined the girls who were watching Viktor; only Ron’s eyes were on Hermione.  

 

The feast was due to start at 7:00 pm, so at 6:30 pm they packed up their books and headed out of the Library. Viktor walked Hermione to the bottom of the staircase before catching up with Harry to head to the dungeons. Harry found he was not even bothered by the coming of the feast; his day had been pleasant enough that he had almost forgotten it was Halloween. 

 

The feast was not strictly a formal affair; dress robes were not required, but most Slytherins were taking advantage of not having to wear the school uniform and dressing for the occasion. Harry pulled out his favourite dark green robes and went to the bathroom to wash up and dress. He even let Pansy do his hair. 

 

The feast was wonderful, more international dishes appeared on the table. There was a fish soup which Daphne called bouillabaise, pastries filled with potato or rice which Viktor informed him were called Karelian pies and a rich stew made with reindeer meat. Harry sat with Viktor on one side and Daphne on the other, and as he chatted comfortably with the people around him, he realised he had the best Halloween of his life. 

 

Dessert included a delicious blueberry pie, which Harry ate two pieces of before the food vanished, and Dumbledore stood to introduce Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch again. 

 

Mr Crouch took the floor and spent several long minutes reciting the rules of the Triwizard Tournament and his hope for a good, fun competition, which would foster connection and understanding between the three schools. Finally, the man sat down, and Mr Bagman stood and announced that the moment had come and the Goblet of Fire was ready to declare the three people chosen to represent their school. 

 

The Goblet glowed blue, and the flame flared as a piece of parchment flew out and was caught by the Headmaster, who looked at the paper and announced, “The champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour.” 

 

Polite applause followed as a girl with long blonde hair stood up and made her way to the head table, only to be directed through the door to the left. The Goblet flared again, and Dumbledore declared Viktor Krum the Durmstrang champion. Karkaroff applauded extra loudly, and Viktor stood up and followed Fleur into the room at the side of the Great Hall. 

 

The Goblet flared a third time, and Harry caught himself holding his breath. A piece of parchment flew out of the Goblet, and Dumbledore smiled before he announced Cedric Diggory as Hogwarts champion. The Great Hall erupted in cheers for the Hogwarts Champion, and Cedric headed off to the room to wait with Fleur and Viktor. 

 

“Wonderful,” Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. “We have our three champions. The first task…” he stopped speaking as the Goblet flared for a fourth time and a fourth piece of parchment flew out. The Headmaster caught it, and Harry thought he saw a smirk on the old man’s face, but it was gone as soon as he noticed it.

 

“Harry Potter,” he said with a suitably grave expression. 

 

Silence fell in the Hall as everyone looked at Harry. Harry glanced up at Severus, whose face gave nothing away. 

 

“Harry,” the headmaster repeated. “Come along up here,” he instructed. 

 

Daphne gave Harry’s arm a tight squeeze. “Go on,” she whispered, and Harry rose to his feet and walked up to the head table, silence ringing in his ears. 

 

He should have known, not only was he a champion, but he was the fourth champion, a champion who should not even exist. When he reached the head table, Severus stood and, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, he guided him into the small withdrawing room. 

 

Three faces turned to look at him as he entered the room. “Harry?” Viktor questioned. “Is everything alright? You look terrible. Did something happen?”

 

Harry stared at Viktor, unable to answer. Behind him, Severus kept his hand on his shoulder and snorted, “You might say that, Mr Krum,” he replied. 

 

Before anyone could say anything else, the room was invaded by Ludo Bagman, Barty Crouch, the Minister for Magic, the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall and Professor Moody. 

 

“Harry,” Dumbledore said seriously, “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?” 

 

“No, sir,” Harry said firmly. 

 

“Did you ask an older student to place it in the Goblet?” Professor McGonagall asked crisply. 

 

“No, professor, I swear I did not ask anyone to place my name in the Goblet,” he replied. 

 

“Of course he didn't,” Professor Moody said crossly. “He’s the fourth Champion! Whoever put his name in the Goblet managed to confund a powerful magical object into thinking that four schools are competing in this tournament.”

 

“You seem to have given this situation a great deal of thought,” a smooth, cold voice said from the door, and Harry looked up to see Headmaster Karkaroff and Madam Maxime enter the room.  “One might wonder why,” he insinuated. 

 

“This cannot stand, Dumblydore,” Madam Maxime declared. “If Hogwarts is to have two champions, we should all have two. We must allow the students to resubmit their name and draw two more,” she demanded. 

 

Ludo Bagman looked nervous, rocking back and forth on his heels, as he kept his eye on the two foreign school heads. “I am afraid the Goblet has gone out. It won't re-ignite until the next Triwizard Tournament.”

 

“Well then, Hogwarts must choose one Champion. This young boy surely cannot compete in such a competition,” the woman insisted, drawing herself up to her full, not insignificant height. 

 

“I am afraid Mr Potter has no choice,” Minister for Magic Cornealius Fudge said from the doorway. He stalked into the room, looking rather flustered, clutching a small book in his hand. “I have gone through the rules, and they are clear: a name is being drawn from the Goblet constitutes a binding magical contract.” 

 

“But I didn’t put my name in!” Harry said furiously. “It can't be a binding contract if I didn't do it!”

 

“I am afraid the Goblet does not take that into account,” Fudge said carefully, fully aware of who Harry’s guardian was and his penchant for taking legal action. 

 

“Show me the parchment,” Harry demanded. “That will prove it wasn't me, it won't be my writing,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. 

 

“We don’t have the parchment, I am afraid; the parchments burn away once the names are announced," Barty Crouch told him. 

 

“Right, well, I want to speak with my magical guardian, please, Professor,” Harry said to Severus. 

 

“I am afraid, dear boy, by the terms of the competition, you no longer have a magical guardian; you are considered an adult now,” Dumbledore said, looking troubled. 

 

“Well then, I believe I need to speak with my lawyer,” he told them. 

 

The headmaster opened his mouth to object, but was cut off by yet another new voice. “I received your Patronus Severus and I got here a quickly as I could. What has happened?” Essie Daniels asked in a no-nonsense tone as she removed her gloves finger by finger and fixed her unimpressed gaze on the headmaster. 

 

Albus Dumbledore stared in horror. Essie Daniels was the last person he had expected to show up. He could not understand why Severus would have summoned her and not Lucius. Unless…colour drained from the old man’s face as he realised this woman was Harry’s magical guardian. 

Chapter 8: Reflections, decisions and badges

Summary:

Tom reflects, Harry decides, and the Puffs make badges, oh, and our dear headmaster sulks a bit.

Notes:

Hello,
Looky here, I have a new chapter written already 🤗

This is a bit of a filler chapter, but it leads us into the next part of the story. I am hoping (touch wood) to have a bit more time for writing in the next few months.

Maeve ✨💚✨

Tom Riddle sat in his study, staring into the fire, mulling over Barty’s last report, which had been both pleasing and troubling. He was pleased that his young emissary had found a way to get Harry Potter into the Triwizard Tournament; Tom had never doubted that he would succeed. However, he had not expected Dumbledore to aid Barty in his task, and that was what he found most disconcerting. Why would the leader of the light want to risk the life of the boy he had proclaimed to be the Saviour of the Wizarding World? 

 

Harry was powerful, and there was no doubt in Tom’s mind that the boy could win the tournament with just a little assistance. That was why his plan to have Harry kidnapped during the final task was so clever; Harry would claim the Tri-Wizard Cup and be immediately transported to the graveyard. He would be exhausted from the final task, which would make it easier for Peter to overpower him. Tom had little faith in Pettigrew to overpower Harry at full capacity.

 

Harry, being the boy who lived, served Tom’s purpose perfectly; he had no intention of harming the boy; he just needed his blood, unwillingly given, to strengthen his ritual. Then Harry would escape and announce his return to power. It was perfect, and the risk, which Tom considered to be minimal, made sense. There was no reason he could think of for Dumbledore to risk the life and health of the boy who lived by entering him in the Triwizard Tournament. So what was the Great Leader of the Light up to?

 

Harry was the Light’s great hope; he had been the only survivor of his attack on the Potters. How the boy had survived was a question no one had adequately answered; although the majority of the Wizarding population did not seem to care about how he had survived, only that he had survived. It was, however, clearly impossible for an infant to have defeated him. There had to be something else in play that night. Lily Potter had been a powerful and clever witch, and unlike her husband, she had been sensible; all the intelligence he had gathered about the Potters suggested that of the two of them, she was one to fear. 

 

It had not surprised Tom to discover Severus was so enamoured of Lily Potter that he would beg him to save the woman’s life; Severus had always been attracted to intelligence and power. The thought brought him up short. Could it be that simple? He had promised Severus he would spare Lily Potter, and he had tried to honour that promise, but the foolish woman had refused to step aside. Instead, she had insisted on standing in front of the child, even going so far as to beg him to kill her instead of the baby.  Sacrificial magic was a powerful form of magic, and Lily had been the child’s mother. How many times had he asked the woman to step aside? Had it been three times? He thought maybe it had been. Lily’s choice to sacrifice her life for her son, combined with his promise to Severus to spare her life and the fact that he had asked her to step aside three times, could have created a powerful counter to his curse.

 

Pondering that thought, Tom considered his current situation. He still had three Horcruxes to reabsorb; he planned to do all three at one time once he had Harry in the graveyard here at the house. Up until now, he had reabsorbed them one at a time; it had been a painful, thoroughly unpleasant experience. Doing three at once was a risk, but he was stronger now. Still, perhaps it would be prudent to have Severus brew the potion this time. Rookwood was good, but he was not Severus; no one had Severus' finesse with potions. 

 

It would not be wise to involve Severus in the entire plan. There was no chance he would approve of the way Tom intended to use Harry, and using the boy was a big enough risk without Severus working against him. The blood and bone ritual was an old, dark magic; the bone of the father, unknowingly given, was all very well, but using the blood of his enemy was the key. If his research was correct, using Harry, his prophesied nemesis, should make the spell much more powerful. The fact that Harry was not his sworn enemy was a wild card he was willing to play. That, combined with reabsorbing his Horcruxes, should give him back the power he had lost when he split his soul.

 

The only fly in the ointment was Dumbledore. The meddling old fool was clearly up to something, and Tom did not like it. He would have to contact Lucius and find out what was going on. Harry would need to be protected from whatever plan the headmaster had devised; he could not have the boy harmed, he was far too valuable an asset to risk. Barty would keep his eye on him, and he would advise and prod the boy in the right direction.  Severus, too, would ensure Harry was well equipped to handle whatever task came up. Harry would survive to win the tournament; that was not in doubt. He would be transported to the graveyard by Barty’s portkey, but would that be playing into the old man’s hands? 

 

Tom had no answer to that question, and he needed to find one.

 

If Barty was to be believed, and Tom had no reason to doubt him, then Dumbledore wanted to use the Tournament to make Harry understand his power. This seemed too strange to Tom, as he would have said the boy understood his power well enough. Barty, however, had insisted that Albus wanted to make Harry see why he was the wizarding world's great hope to defeat the Dark Lord.

 

The Dark Lord, whom Albus himself had created; Tom knew now that Albus Dumbledore had orchestrated his descent into darkness. The man who spouted about love but left helpless children in abusive and frightening situations. Tom had gone to the headmaster at the end of every school year and begged not to be sent back to the orphanage. It was an awful place where he faced constant torment from people who believed him to be the devil; then there had been the Blitz. Tom vividly recalled huddling in the cellar of the orphanage as air raid sirens sounded and German bombs exploded all over London.

 

It would have been enough to make any wizard hate Muggles. Years later, the headmaster had ignored Severus’ plight, and the Mauraders had been allowed to terrorise a boy who was already a victim of abuse. Then Harry had been placed with Muggles who neglected and beat him. Why, the great Albus Dumbledore would do such things, Tom could not understand. What purpose could it serve? 

 

Tom was not a good man; he had done terrible things for which he felt no remorse. Severus was similar; he had proven he was capable of brewing deadly poison and even of torture, though he preferred to kill via his potions. Harry, however, was different to both of them; were they experiments? Were they so expendable that Albus just could not be bothered to care? He knew that was not completely true; Albus had a plan for Harry, but had he had a plan for Tom and Severus?

 

Tom was who he was, in part due to Albus' treatment of him as a child. The same could be said for Severus and Harry. Still, he could not he could fathom why the man wanted Harry in a tournament which could kill him. Plans within plans, it was the headmaster's style, and Tom would need to tread carefully if he was to achieve his goals and not fall into a trap set by a man desperate to maintain his place as the wizarding world’s Leader of the Light.

 

Taking out a roll of parchment and a quill, he addressed a letter to Lucius. He would need to be kept in the loop regarding Harry’s involvement in this tournament, especially if he was to stay one step ahead of the headmaster.

In the Headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore was fuming. Essie Daniels was Harry’s magical guardian, or at least she had been until Harry’s name came out of the Goblet. Suddenly, the reason for the information being kept from him became all too clear. He should have known the damnable woman would not go quietly. 

 

Hiring a tutor for Harry should have been a simple and easy thing to do; unfortunately, he had chosen badly. Essie Daniels had not been content to do a simple job and be paid for it. She had asked questions, made assertions and collected evidence of Harry’s home life, and then she had the gall to accuse him of neglecting his duty and threaten his entire plan. He should have known she would not just go away.

 

If Essie was to be believed, Petunia had thought it was too dangerous for Harry to return to Privet Drive after he had been to Hogwarts, and she had gone to the Goblins to ask for help. Albus could not figure out why she would have gone to them; what would make her go to Gingotts after ten years? It made no sense, and why would she ask the Goblins to track down Essie Daniels? Essie claimed that Petunia had suspected her of being a witch and therefore had asked the Goblins to contact her for advice, but Dumbledore doubted that very much. It was clear the two women had worked together, against him, and as much as he hated to admit it, he had been fooled by Petunia Dursley and Essie Daniels, and he did not like it. 

 

Albus was not sure how Lucius Malfoy came to be involved. Perhaps Essie had called him in his capacity as a lawyer, then somehow he convinced her to sign Harry over to him, and Severus had just gone along with it. Albus knew his spy had been unhappy about Harry being placed with Petunia, and the medical checks he’d asked Poppy to do had further convinced the wretched man the boy needed protecting. Severus had a history of reporting abuse and having children removed from what he had called ‘unsafe family situations’; Albus did not believe there was any such thing, children belonged with their families, that was all there was to it. He had tried on more than one occasion to explain this to Severus, but the man would not listen. It was inconvenient, but as it had only affected the Slytherins, Albus had not been too bothered by it; until Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin, and Severus became responsible for his well-being. Minerva would have listened to reason, but Severus had threatened to go to the Ministry with Harry’s test results.

 

Still, he had at least gotten his way in so far as the Tournament was concerned. Harry’s name had been drawn out, and now he was contractually obliged to compete. Essie and Severus would insist on helping him, and that was fine; it would serve his purpose nicely. Moody would ensure Harry got the information he needed, and the other two would ensure Harry found the right spells to succeed; the plan would still work. Harry would be forced to use all of his power; the wizarding public would see how powerful he was, and things would fall into place the way they should have from the beginning.

 

The only potential problem was Harry’s lawyer; the woman was unfortunately very well-versed in the law and very good at her job. She had managed to prevent the Daily Prophet from publishing any information about Harry, she had saved the damn hippogriff from execution, got Sirius Black exonerated and made the Malfoy’s guardianship of Harry watertight. If anyone could get Harry out of competing in the tournament, it was Margarite Saari. 

 

Albus took out his copy of the rule book. He had read it cover to cover several times, and as far as he could tell, the contract was iron-clad. It would be wise, perhaps, to have a lawyer take a look, but who could he trust? He could not be seen wanting Harry to be in the Triwizard Tournament; of course, if he were to turn the question around, then he could ask Elphias Doge to look at the rules. If he were to ask him on the pretext of getting Harry out of competing, then it would make sense to old Doge, and he would happily comply. Yes, that was the answer. He summoned paper and quill he would write to Elphias immediately and take his advice. 

Essie sank onto the sofa in Severus’ private quarters with a satisfied smile. Tonight had been everything she had hoped for; her revenge on Dumbledore had been a long time in coming, but tonight she had the satisfaction of seeing the old coot squirm, and it was just the beginning. If Harry competed in the competition, the headmaster would have to let her stay in the castle as his mentor for the whole year.

 

Harry, who had followed her into Severus' room, sat beside her with a huge smile on his face. “That was brilliant!” he enthused. “Did you two rehearse that?” he asked, looking at Severus, who had taken his usual chair.

 

“It was prearranged,” the man admitted. “I didn't actually send a message to Essie, I only sent my Patronus. I could not risk being overheard; someone might have tipped Albus off, and we needed him distracted so Essie could enter the Castle.”

 

Essie continued the story. “We knew something like this would likely happen. So I came to visit an old friend who lives just out of Hogsmeade, to ensure I was close by. When Severus' patronus arrived, I apparated to the Hogwarts gates, and Mr Filch was waiting for me,” she told him. 

 

“Filch?” Harry asked with a frown. 

 

“I informed Argus I was expecting a guest and that she would probably arrive around 9 pm. Argus is an old friend, and he was happy to keep an eye out for me.” Severus explained.

 

“He thinks Essie’s your girlfriend, doesn’t he?” Harry asked shrewdly. 

 

Severus gave Harry a wry smile. “I cannot be held responsible for the assumptions of other people,” he replied. 

 

“Hummmm,” Harry hummed. 

 

Severus eyed Harry, “Would it bother you if Mr Filch did think that? He asked. 

 

Harry shook his head. “No, not really. I mean, everyone thinks Daphne and I are dating anyway, and it’s actually kind of amusing, I mean, you two are a lot alike,” he told him.

 

Essie smirked at Severus and raised her eyebrow. “Such compliments from the young man, I am flattered,” she said to Harry. 

 

Harry frowned and looked between his two guardians, uncertain as to what Essie meant. Severus called Dobby to bring some tea, and busied himself with pouring it; his ears had turned an odd shade of pink, and he was not looking at Harry or Essie.

 

Harry shrugged. He would ask Severus about it later; for now, he had more pressing questions. “So what happens now?” He asked, accepting a cup from Severus. “Mr Crouch said only someone in seventh year would have the skills to successfully compete in this tournament.”

 

“The Triwizard Tournament has a long, colourful history of cheating,” Essie told him. “It’s practically expected. If you compete, I will remain here as your mentor. You will also have Severus, and between us, we should not have much trouble getting you through the tasks. You are very powerful, Harry, you are more than capable of the magic required, but there’s a lot you have yet to learn. That is the reason the age was set at 17; the champions will need a broad range of knowledge to succeed,” she told him.

 

Severus nodded in agreement. “It’s true cheating is expected; however, given that you are not in your seventh year, the rules allow for you to have a mentor, someone to guide you through the tasks. Should you wish to compete, you will be allowed to select one person officially, but obviously, we will both help you regardless,” Severus told him. 

 

“Should I wish to…I thought I had no choice about competing,” Harry said.

 

Essie sighed. “That is how things seem, but Margarite thinks that someone has tried very hard to make sure that there was no choice for those whose names are drawn out. She has been researching, and she thinks she may have found a loophole. Given that you are only 14 and therefore not in possession of your Heirship Ring, you do not have access to your full family magic, which puts you at a serious disadvantage. There is also the fact that you have not begun your Lordship training and therefore do not have the knowledge required to enter into a contract on your own. For an Heir to enter a binding contract, it must be written and accepted by family magic, or if your parents or magical guardian signed on your behalf. As none of these things are the case here, Margarite feels we have ground to appeal,” she explained.

Harry frowned and looked confused. “Okay, so what does that mean?”

 

“It means that the choice is yours, Harry. As things stand, you must compete; however, if you wish to challenge the contract, we will do so,” Severus told him. 

 

Essie looked at the young man sitting next to her. He looked so much healthier than he had when she had been tutoring him, but he was still small for his age. “You have nothing to prove, Harry,” she said softly.

“Don't I?” he asked. His head snapped up to glare at his former tutor. “I am the boy who lived!”

 

“That is a phrase which is used for you; you are not required to do anything to prove the title,” Severus answered firmly. 

Harry shook his head; he was not so sure about that, but there was no point arguing with Essie and Severus. Instead, he asked the question which had been on his mind since his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire.  “How did my name get into the Goblet? Moody said something about confounding a magical artefact.” 

 

Severus looked grim. “I have sent an enquiry to the Department of Mysteries on your behalf. In theory, what happened tonight should be impossible; the Triwizard tournament, by definition, only has three competitors.” 

 

“Sounds about right," Harry muttered. 

 

“It might give us further grounds to get you out of the contract. I have spoken with your father; he and Margarite are working on it now,” Severus told him.

 

“The question is, what do you want to do, Harry?” Essie asked. “Do you want to compete knowing that the tasks have been designed for students in their seventh year?”

 

Harry looked at her with a slight frown. “You're asking me if I want to compete?” he asked incredulously. 

 

“Don't get me wrong,” Essie told him with a concerned expression. “I do not want you to compete. I think it is far too dangerous, and if I were still your guardian, it would be very tempting for me to simply say no and not allow it,” she said seriously. 

 

“But..I thought you were my guardian,” Harry said in surprise. 

 

“No, I am afraid Professor Dumbledore was correct in that you are now legally considered an adult. It’s the only way you could be bound by a contract,” Essie explained. 

 

“How can that be? How can they just make me an adult?” Harry demanded. 

 

Essie and Severus shared a look, and Harry was annoyed. “Just tell me!” he demanded. “I am an adult after all!”

 

Severus almost smiled at that pronouncement. “There was a special sitting of the Wizengamot over the summer,” he began carefully. “Some members of the Wizengamot were concerned about something like this happening, and they raised the point that if a minor were to be drawn out of the Goblet, it would be illegal to hold them to a contract they were not old enough to sign. It was decided that since the Goblet of Fire was to be protected by an age line drawn by the Headmaster, no student under seventeen would be able to enter. However, in deference to the objections, they passed a motion by which any underage person who managed to be chosen would become a legal adult, thus ensuring they could compete.”

 

Harry blinked slowly at his betrothed. “They are that daft? Did they not think that a person under seventeen just should not be allowed to compete, and maybe they should just ban them?” he asked.

 

Essie moved closer to Harry and took his hand in hers. “I don't know what they were thinking. I can only guess that the fact that the age line was to be drawn by Albus Dumbledore, they assumed the situation would simply not arise. Either that or they missed the entire point of the objections raised. Whatever the case is, all we can do is move forward and protect you the best way we can. We will fight this in court if that is what you want to do,” she told him seriously.

 

“Is there time for a legal challenge? The first task is in November?” Harry asked. 

 

“No, if we were to mount a legal challenge, the tournament would not be allowed to begin in November,” Essie allowed.

 

Harry looked at the floor and thought about that. If the tournament was stopped because of him, everyone in the school would be angry with him, not to mention the people who had come from other countries to compete. In all likelihood, people would be angry with him anyway, and no matter what he did, he would be ostracised.

“You said you would both help me if I were to compete,” Harry told her, as he looked between the two of them.

 

“The rules state you can have only one official mentor, but as I said, cheating is expected. I doubt anyone could prevent Seveus from doing everything in his power to keep you safe.” Essie told him with a wide smile. 

 

Severus sipped his tea before nodding his head as if considering the options. “I will be here regardless, and as your Head of House, I will assist in any way that I can. Therefore, I would recommend you select Essie as your mentor. It will mean that she will have to be accommodated in the castle for the duration of the Tournament. I imagine the Headmaster can find her a room…” he said with a completely neutral expression. 

 

Harry stared blank-faced at Severus, unable to decipher his blank expression, but Essie burst out laughing.  “What's so funny?” He asked, confused. 

 

“I am afraid the Headmaster does not like me very much, Harry. It was the Headmaster who hired me to tutor you, and I made his life very difficult. Just when he thought he was rid of me, I am back, and Severus here finds it quite amusing that he will have to allow me to stay in the Castle,” Essie explained. 

 

“I see, I think perhaps there is a story there I would like to hear,” Harry replied with a grin. 

 

“We have the whole year, I am sure there will be plenty of time for stories,” Essie told him. 

 

“Indeed, but right now it is very late and you should be heading to bed, Mr Potter,” Severus said in his professor's voice. 

 

“What about E..E…Essie?” Harry asked with a yawn.

 

“I am going to floo to Malfoy Manor tonight to bring your parents and Margarite up to date with what has happened. I will be back in the morning, probably with Luicus in tow, just to annoy the headmaster some more,” the woman said, ruffling Harry’s hair fondly. 

 

Harry ducked his head away, but he smiled at her. “Alright then, I will see you tomorrow,” he said, standing up.

 

He turned to Severus and took a step towards him, unsure if the man would be willing to hug him with Essie in the room. Severus stood up and smiled at Harry,  the younger man stepped into his open arms and pressed his face into Severus’ chest. “Try and sleep, Harry, we will talk again in the morning,” he said softly. Harry looked up at him and nodded. He stepped away from his betrothed and made his way back to the dorm to face his housemates. 

 

Harry tossed and turned most of the night, but he could not relax enough to sleep. He knew he would be competing in the Triwizard Tournament; that decision was made. What troubled him was that he had no idea whose game he was playing. As far as he could see, there were only two possible ways for his name to be put into the Goblet. It had either been an agent of the Dark Lord. This seemed the most likely scenario, though he could not fathom why Tom would do it; he thought they had moved past Tom trying to kill him. That left Dumbledore, but why would the Headmaster want him to compete in such a dangerous competition? It seemed his life would never be simple.

 

The rest of the school would probably hate him in the morning; well, that wasn't anything new, and it was not as though he would be facing it alone. His friends and indeed the whole of Slytherin House would stand with him. Sighing deeply he he finally drifted into a deep sleep. Tomorrow would be difficult, but he would face it all the same.

 

Whispers followed Harry everywhere the next morning. No one knew what to make of the events of the night before. The Slytherins had all been waiting for him when Harry arrived in the Common Room. Several older students had been researching what might have happened, and they had come to much the same conclusion as Professor Moody. It seemed very unlikely that Harry could have confounded a magical object as powerful as the Goblet of Fire, making it believe that four schools were competing in the Tournament. They agreed that something unsavoury had happened and they effectively closed ranks around Harry.

 

The rest of the school, however, had all made their assumptions, and confounding a powerful magical object was precisely what the Gryffindors seemed to expect from a Slytherin. Ron Weasley was the loudest of the dissenters, insisting that if anyone would be able to do such a thing, it would have to be a Slytherin; no one else knew enough dark magic to pull it off.  

 

This point of view seemed to irritate the Ravenclaws, who generally resented the implication that Slytherins would know anything about magic, which they didn’t know. The assumption that they would not be able to confuse the Goblet of Fire if they wanted to do so seemed to deeply offend them. In their view, the fact that they would not choose to use such magic was no reason not to know how to use it. Beyond this, they had no particular interest in whether or not Harry Potter competed in the Triwizard Tournament.

 

However, it was the Hufflepuffs who were most upset by the whole event. Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff, and when his name was drawn out of the Goblet, Hufflepuff House felt seen, for the first time. The Hogwarts Champion was a Hufflepuff, and everyone would have to acknowledge that Hufflepuffs were just as capable as any other student in the school, and they were furious that the boy who lived was stealing their moment. Instead of everyone talking about Cedric, the whole school was talking about Harry Potter, like it was any other Tuesday.

 

Since the second year, and the whole thing with Justin Finch Fletchley being petrified, and the other Hufflepuffs catching sight of half of Harry at the scene. Harry had mostly avoided the Badgers; Slytherin did not have any classes with Hufflepuff, so he had very little contact with them. Now it seemed they were around every corner he turned, glaring at him and muttering about not letting anyone else have any glory.

 

There was no announcement of Harry’s decision, but Essie, taking up residence in a first floor guest room, was taken as confirmation that Harry would take part in the Tri-wizard Tournament. It was not long after that Harry noticed the badges; he couldn't say for sure when they had first appeared, but he noticed a lot of Hufflepuffs wearing them.

 

At first, he thought they were just to support Cedric, which he figured was fair enough, but then Ron got his hands on one and discovered that the badge had been secretly enchanted to read ‘support Cedric, the real Hogwarts Champion’, before changing to ‘Potter stinks’ . It was impressive charm work, and truthfully, Harry could not blame the Hufflepuffs. It was not fair that their Champion had to share the limelight, not that Harry wanted the limelight.

 

Even in class, he could not escape from the whispers and glares of the other students; the Ravenclaws acted as if it had been Harry who had thrown aspersions at their ability to understand and use magic. The Gryffindors, however, were completely impossible; even Fred and George were a little miffed with him.

 

Once again, Harry could not walk anywhere on his own; he was escorted to every class by his Slytherin Housemates and between classes, he took refuge in the library with Viktor and Hermione. It was the one place no one bothered him, as no one would attack him in front of Viktor Krum. 

 

Harry’s hope for an uneventful year had slipped right out of his grasp; all he could do was hope to survive the tournament. 

Chapter 9: Moody

Summary:

Mad-Eye Moody makes an impression, and the Slytherins band together. Harry finds out about the first task, and Draco and Charlie meet up.

Notes:

Hello,

So it has been a very long term, doing work placement for my course, actual work and family stuff, and as I am slightly daft, I forgot which chapter I was up to and spent a day and a half editing chapter 8. As a result, that chapter has been updated; nothing has really changed, I just didn't want all that editing to go to waste!

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know if I have made any mistakes with the continuity of the story or anything else. It is currently 1.46 am here, so I will re-read it after I have had some sleep.

Thanks as always

Maeve ✨💚✨

In the weeks which followed Halloween, Harry found himself slowly settling back into his school routine. The Hufflepuffs stopped their badge campaign after Cedric gave the whole house a good talking to about the values of Hufflepuff House, and the official Hogwarts Champion, as Harry thought of him, had even sought Harry out to apologise for his House's actions. Harry had accepted the apology and assured Cedric he understood why the Hufflepuffs felt slighted; still, he was grateful for the older boy's actions.

 

Gryffindor House had also backed off in their targeting of Harry, and although he did not know for certain, he thought Fred and George might have been responsible. Harry had still not figured out why the twins seemed to be in desperate need of money, and he resolved anew to find out. The twins had always been civil to Harry, and he counted them among his wider friendship circle, and if they were in some kind of trouble, he wanted to help them, if he could.

 

So apart from the niggling worry about the upcoming first task Harry only had one real problem - Professor Moody. 

 

The Slytherins were all still wary of Professor Moody, and as a result, no one from the house of snakes was ever left to walk anywhere on their own. The older students had even begun taking turns to accompany the younger students to their classes, and there was an unspoken agreement among all the Slytherins that no one would be left alone with Moody. 

 

Defence Against the Dark Arts had always been a mixed bag as far as Harry had been concerned. Severus insisted that he had a natural ability in the subject, but apart from Remus, the teachers he’d had so far had not helped him expand his understanding of the subject or develop his potential.

 

The Slytherins pulling together to protect each other from Moody still did not entirely ease Harry’s worry; he could not put his finger on what it was, but the man made him uncomfortable. The way the man looked at Harry was disconcerting; it was as if he could see through him somehow, and Harry wondered just what that strange, unnatural false eye could see. However, the classes themselves had been quite good, until the first class after Harry was selected as a Champion.

 

Moody had called the class to gather around a table at the front of the room, where he had a large spider in a cage. When the class were all in place Moody told them they were going to be discussing the  Unforgivable Curses. He told them he had special permission from the Headmaster and the Ministry to show them the curses. “You have to know what you're up against,” he said fiercely. “Now, does anyone know any of the Unforgivable curses?” he asked. 

 

Hermione raised her hand with some trepidation and when Moody called on her she said quietly but firmly, “The imperious curse.”

 

Moody nodded and tipped the cage up, causing the spider to tumble out. Then, before the poor creature could gather its senses and flee, Moody raised his wand and directed it at the spider, saying “Imperio”. The spider froze immediately, and then it began to dance. All the Gryffindors laughed as the spider did a series of complicated acrobatics.

 

The Slytherins, however, did not laugh; instead, most of them watched grimly while the spider danced; Daphne looked away and closed her eyes. Moody cancelled the spell and glared at the laughing students with what Harry thought might have been contempt. 

 

“Think that’s funny, do you?” he leered. “You think it’s funny that I have complete total control over this creature? I could make this spider throw itself out the window, or drown itself,” he growled. “I could make it do anything I wanted to; things a spider would never naturally do. I can make it go against its every instinct, including its instinct to live,” Moody said with a soft growl, which was almost a purr of satisfaction.

 

The students stopped laughing and glanced at each other uneasily. 

 

“The imperious curse leaves no mark and no sign it has been cast. It was quite popular a while back, but it hasn't been seen as much in recent years,” Moody told them. “Now, does anyone know of another unforgivable curse?”

 

Neville raised his hand, and when Moody called on him, he stammered out a reply which surprised Harry. 

 

“The…the cru…cruciatus c…curse,” Neville was pale and looked sick as he stumbled over the words.

 

Moody gave Neville and long look, “What’s your name, laddy?” he asked softly.

 

“Neville Longbottom, sir,” Neville replied softly but evenly, having seemingly pulled himself together. Moody said nothing more; instead, he returned his attention to the spider. Pointing his wand at it, he said, “Crucio.”

 

Harry watched wide-eyed as the spider began to writhe in agony. It made no sound, but Harry was certain it would be screaming if it could. It was awful to watch, but Harry could not drag his eyes away from the unfortunate spider.

 

The whole class was transfixed until Hermione screamed, “Stop, just stop. Stop it now!”

 

Moody lifted his wand, and Harry saw a fleeting look of something like satisfaction on the old Aurors face before he turned his attention to Hermione. The girl was standing beside Neville with her hand on his shoulder and Neville who had been pale before now looked a bit green, and he was staring at the spider with an utterly horrified expression.

 

“Pain,” Moody said softly. “Pure constant pain. Unrelenting pain. It does not stop until the curse is lifted, it can cause severe nerve damage, and if used on a person for too long or too frequently, it can cause permanent, debilitating injury.”

 

Moody walked over to Neville and put a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder for a moment, then he looked back at the spider, which was still twitching.  Harry knew what was coming next, and he closed his eyes. He couldn’t tell which of his classmates had named the killing curse, and he didn’t need to see the green light burst from the teacher's wand to know what had happened to the spider. 

 

Bile rose in Harry’s throat as the image of green light and the memory of a distant scream filled his head. Moody continued his lecture but Harry did not hear a word he said, and the moment class was dismissed, he left the room almost at a run, stopping only to grab his bag. He did not hear Draco or Daphne yelling after him as he made his way to Severus’ room and let himself in. 

 

Severus found him there several minutes later, sitting on the sofa with his knees drawn up to his chin, his face pale and drawn, and tears rolling softly down his cheeks. Severus sat down and took Harry in his arms, the boy went without protest and the older man held him until he stopped shaking.

 

They sat together for several long minutes before Harry could explain what had happened. It was not until he got to the part about the cruciatus curse that he remembered Neville’s reaction to it and began to worry about the other boy. Severus pressed his lips together in a way that meant he was very unhappy about something. He promised to contact Professor McGonagall and have her check in on Neville and make sure he was looked after.

 

Harry stayed in Severus' rooms until curfew and went straight to bed on his return to the Slytherin common room. He was not up for listening to conversations about Professor Moody or anything else.

 

Mad-Eye Moody was a regular topic of discussion most nights in the Slytherin common room. Severus' warning about Moody’s methods for hunting down Death Eaters had stuck with Harry, and it seemed that almost every student in Slytherin knew of someone who had been tracked down by Mad-Eye Moody and either taken in violently or killed.  It was several weeks after Severus had mentioned his relationship with Evan Rosier when Lucien Bole finally told the story of his Uncle Evan. 

 

Harry was sitting on a sofa with his back to the group, which had gathered around Lucien. He was trying to read his Transfiguration textbook, but he could not help listening to the story. Lucien made out that Evan had some great romance with Professor Snape; the boy even went so far as to suggest his uncle's death was the reason for Snape's generally mean disposition.

 

He was unaware of anyone watching him until Daphne slid onto the sofa next to him put her hand on his leg, and looked at him with a concerned expression. “Are you alright, Harry?” she whispered. 

 

“I am fine, why would I not be?” he replied, too quickly. 

 

Daphne bit her bottom lip and leaned towards him. “Walk with me,” she said softly. It was then that Harry noticed the looks he was getting from several older students. Harry stood up at Daphne’s urging and followed her out of the common room.  The girl led him further down into the dungeons to the room that Severus had set up for study groups to use. Pushing open the door she stood back to let Harry enter ahead of her and then she locked and placed a silencing charm on the door. The two students sat facing each other on the sofa near the Slytherin bookshelf and Daphne took Harry’s hand. 

 

Harry waited for her to speak, unsure what she was so worried about. “Harry,” she began. “This might be none of my business, but you said you were betrothed to a man, correct?”

 

Harry nodded. “Ok, it's just your expression when Lucien was telling his story about his uncle and Professor Snape, you looked kind of…disgusted. I know that Muggles are not as accepting of same-sex relationships as the wizarding community,  and I just… are you ok with your betrothal?” she asked in a rush. Before Harry could answer, she hurried on, “Because if you are not, there are ways to have it reviewed,” she told him.

 

Whatever Harry had expected Daphne to say, it was not that. He stared at her for a moment, and then he laughed. Daphne looked offended. “I am sorry,” Harry said as he regained control. “I appreciate your concern, I do, but I wasn’t disgusted, at least not in the way you're thinking.” 

 

“Ok, then what was that expression?” the girl asked, with a frown.

 

Harry squeezed the hand which was still holding his and sighed. “If I tell you something can you…you know, keep it to yourself?” he asked.

 

Daphne nodded slowly. “Of course I can Harry,” she assured him. 

 

“Alright, well, the thing is that…I had already heard the story Lucien was telling. Severus told me.” Harry said carefully. He watched as Daphne processed that sentence and her mouth dropped open. 

 

“It’s Professor Snape!” she breathed in surprise. “He’s your betrothed. I thought…I thought you had a crush on him and I had wondered…” she trailed off. “When did you find out?”

 

“In our first year,” He began.  “Severus went to my Aunt when he found out about how I was treated in that house. Aunt Petunia agreed that I would not be safe if I continued living with her and her husband, and she went to Gringotts with him. My aunt explained the situation to the Goblins and that's when they found my mum’s will. It turned out I should never have been with my Aunt. Lily left a will in her vault, a vault which should have gone to Severus when she died. We also found a family betrothal contract between the Potter and the Prince Family.”

 

“The Prince Family? I thought they died out,” Daphne said in surprise.

 

“Yeah, well it turns out that Severus is the last of the line. His mother was a Prince,” Harry told her.

 

“I see, and you are the last of the Potters,” she mused. “Still, the contract could be easily broken if you didn’t want it,” the girl said, looking at him carefully. “A family contract can be dissolved by the mutual agreement of the heads of the family which would be you and Professor Snape.” 

 

“I know, Father explained it all, but the thing is, I don’t mind. Originally, we left it in place because there was another contract I did object to, which the family contract predated. Now though…Well, I am ok with it,” Harry told her. “I am actually pretty happy with it, we just can't let people know yet, because it would make things difficult for Severus if it came out he was betrothed to a student.”

 

Daphne nodded sagely “Of course, who else does know?” she asked. 

 

“Here at school, just Draco and Severus. Oh, and my Magical Guardian - or former Magical Guardian, I guess. Essie,” he told her. “Outside of school, the Goblins, Mother and Father and my lawyer, Miss Saari.”

 

Daphne nodded “Alright, but if you're really ok with it, then why did you look like you swallowed a lemon back there when Lucien was talking about his uncle’s relationship with another man?”

 

“I didn’t realise I did,” Harry admitted. “But if I did then it was not because of Evan being in a relationship with a man, but because it was Severus,” he explained. 

 

Understanding dawned on Daphne, of course, it made sense Harry would not have liked hearing that story about the man he was to marry, she breathed a sigh of relief and let Harry continue to tell his story.

 

“Sev had told me about his relationship with Evan Rosier, but the story he told me was not quite the same as Lucien’s story. Sev said they were together for a short time, but Evan was the Heir to the Rosier Lordship, and his parents were in the process of negotiating a marriage contract for him, so it was not quite the great love affair Lucien claimed. Still, even though I knew about it, hearing Lucien talk about it was…it was kind of…I don't know…” he trailed off. 

 

“Unpleasant, upsetting, uncalled for?” Daphne suggested. 

 

Harry smiled. “Yeah, all of that,” he agreed. 

 

“That’s completely understandable, and I swear your secret is safe with me for as long as it’s a secret, but if you ever need to talk about anything, I am here,” Daphne told him with a smile. 

 

“Thank you, that means a lot. It might be nice to talk with someone who understands,” he replied. “I will have to tell Sev that you know, and he might want to talk to you about keeping it to yourself,” Harry said apologetically. 

 

The smile on Daphne's face faded slightly, and Harry laughed, “I won't let him scare you,” he promised. 

 

“You won’t let who scare her?” inquired a deep voice. Causing the pair to jump. 

 

Two heads snapped up to see their Head of House standing in the doorway. Daphne paled, and Harry squeezed her hand.  Then he smiled broadly at his betrothed. “Sev, we were just talking about you.”

 

Severus stepped into the room and raised his eyebrow, and Harry explained what had happened and the resulting conversation. When he was finished, Severus gave Daphne a long look. “It was only a matter of time before someone suspected something. I am surprised it has taken this long. I am certain, however, that Miss Greengrass’ discretion will be absolute,” he said in his teacher's voice.

 

“Of course, Professor Snape, I would never betray Harry’s confidence or yours, of course,” the girl said nervously. 

 

Severus gave a satisfied nod. “I believe it will be good for Harry to have someone to talk to about such things as he may need,” the older man said vaguely. 

 

“Yes, sir,” Daphne replied.

 

“Very well then, it is after curfew, so you need to head back to the common room and get ready for bed now,” he told them. 

 

“Yes, sir,” they both replied and got up to leave. 

 

At the door, Harry stopped and turned back towards Severus. “Thanks, Sev, goodnight,” he said softly. 

 

Severus gave him a small smile. “Goodnight Harry.”

Preparations for the first task were well underway by the second week of November. The students noticed that a section of the castle grounds, near the edge of the forest, had been closed off behind very strong wards. Dumbledore had announced at breakfast one morning that it was off limits and anyone trying to sneak past the barrier would be dealt with severely. 

 

Harry glanced up at Severus and Essie, who were sitting together at the head table. He knew they were working on finding out what the task might be and devising a training plan.  They intended to ensure Harry knew enough magic to survive whatever the first task ended up being; Harry was training in Essie’s rooms three nights a week so far he had learned some advanced shielding spells, stupify, as well as a few very useful hexes. Severus was helping him with defensive magic and duelling on the weekends.

 

They had not, however, determined exactly what he would be facing on the 24th of November. Then on Tuesday morning, on the week of the First Task, Hagrid stopped by the Slytherin table at breakfast, looking nervous. “Harry…” he greeted him.  “...ah, are you…er I mean…maybe you might like to come for a cuppa tea, in your free period this afternoon and…er bring that cloak o’ yours,” he said quickly before moving on without waiting for an answer. 

 

Harry stared after the giant with a bewildered expression, then turned to look at Daphne and Draco to get their reaction. Daphne shrugged her shoulders and looked bemused, but Draco seemed not to have noticed. He was reading a letter that Harry had not seen delivered when he noticed Harry looking at him. he flushed and shoved the parchment into his pocket. “What did I miss?” he asked, a pink tinge appearing on his face.

 

Draco had been behaving oddly, Harry realised, and he had not given it proper thought because he had been so distracted by his own life. He was not sure when he and Draco had stopped talking. However, he did not have time to question his brother as they had to get to Charms. Harry resolved to talk to Draco that night. 

 

Harry tried to focus on his classes, but by the time the end of their double Herbology class rolled around, Harry’s stomach was in knots. He could not work out what Hagrid would want with him, but he could not shake the feeling it was something to do with the Tournament. 

 

It had almost been easy to forget about the Tri-Wizard Tournament since the Hufflepuffs stopped wearing their badges. He knew the first task was coming up; he had been meeting with Essie three nights a week to go over spells which she and Severus believed might be useful for him to know.

 

Harry barely ate anything at lunch. Daphne looked worried, but she didn't press him to eat. Instead, she squeezed his hand and told him she would be waiting in the dungeon study room for him. Harry gave him a grateful smile and went to collect his coat. He did not notice that Draco had not been at lunch.

Harry made his way down to Hagrid's Hut and knocked on the door. When he was called to enter, he pushed the door open and saw that the half-giant was standing in front of the biggest mirror Harry had ever seen, dressed in what Harry assumed was his best suit. His hair was slicked down with some kind of grease and he was behaving strangely even for Hagrid. “Harry, glad ye could make it. Put tha’ cloak on and stay quiet now,” he said distractedly. Harry obeyed. 

 

“We’re just waitin’ fer…” Hagrid stopped talking, and when Harry realised why, he had to put his hand in his mouth to not make a sound. 

 

“Harrgrid,” purred Madam Maxim. The giantess was standing at the door to Hagrid's Hut dressed in a red and black velvet fur-trimmed robe. 

 

Hagrid turned red and took a step towards the woman. “Olympe,” he said in a tone Harry had never heard the giant use before. He hoped Hagrid was not going to try and flirt. 

 

Harry watched as Hagrid offered his arm to the giant woman and the pair of them set off at a sedate pace towards the magical barriers. Harry stayed close to Hagrid, passing through the wards right behind the two giants, hoping that his presence would not be noticed. When no alarm sounded,  Harry took a step away from Hagrid to look at the sight before him. Tents had been pitched, and large fenced-off areas had been built in the warded area. Behind the fence, a dozen or so witches and wizards in leather clothing were corralling four full-grown dragons who were not best pleased to find themselves at Hogwarts in November. 

 

Harry was staring in horror when a familiar voice drew him out of his stupor. “Hagrid,” Charlie Weasley said with a grin. 

 

“Charlie,” Hagrid greeted the redhead, not taking his eyes off the dragons. “They’re beautiful.” 

 

“They’re furious,” Charlie said as one of the dragons, a huge red beast, roared and reared up causing four of the other dragon trainers to rush into action and try and calm it down. “I can’t imagine why they wanted nesting mothers for the Champions to try and get past.”

 

Hagrid said nothing; he was clearly spellbound by the dragon.

 

Charlie frowned when he noticed the Beauxbatons Headmistress, “Hagrid, she should not be here,” he whispered. 

 

“Ah…she jus’ wanted to see em’ Charlie,” Hargid replied, seemingly not catching the man’s meaning. 

 

Charlie rolled his eyes, “Real romantic, Hagrid,” he said with a sigh. 

 

Harry had seen enough, and he decided no one would miss him, so he turned and made his way back along the track. As he walked, he saw movement behind the trees and stopped to look around. Kararoff was crouched down behind a bush, studying the dragons; that meant only Cedric did not know what they would be facing in the first task.

 

Harry moved to continue on his way when he caught a flash of white blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. He spun around and watched as Draco snuck up behind Charlie and touched the man’s shoulder. Charlie turned quickly, with his wand drawn, and then he grinned as he saw Draco. 

 

Harry was too far away to hear what the pair said but he saw Charlie shake his head and Draco nod towards Madam Maxime, Charlie visibly blew out a sigh. Then his expression changed and smiling softly at Draco, the dragon trainer ducked under the fence rail. Harry watched as Charlie took Draco’s hand and led him away down the fence line. Draco must have been in touch with Charlie and known he was coming; that at least explained his recent distraction and probably his mystery letter. Harry turned back towards the castle and made his way down to the dungeons to find Essie.

“Dragons, hmmm,” Essie said without so much as batting an eye. Harry stared at her as if she had sprouted a second head.

 

“Hummmm! Is that all you have to say?” Harry demanded, slightly hysterically.

 

“Calm down, Harry,” Essie said with a smile. “We suspected something like this, and Severus has been investigating. We know they have brought in four dragons from the reserve in Romania, and there will be qualified and experienced trainers on hand to ensure your safety. From what Severus has been able to find out, it seems your task will be to retrieve something from the dragon's nest.” 

 

Harry paled, “They're nesting mothers,” he whispered. 

 

“Yes, they are, so it will not be easy to get them off their nest long enough to snatch whatever it is, you might be able to summon it, but…that almost seems too easy,” she mused. 

 

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Severus spoke first. “What you need to do, Harry is to play to your strengths. What are you good at?” he asked, his eyes shining the way they did when he was trying to teach Harry something he thought should be obvious. 

 

“Um, I am good at charms, potions and…er, Quidditch?” he said, sounding unsure. 

 

“Precisely, Harry, you are a brilliant flier,” Severus said, smiling with satisfaction.

 

Essie gave Severus a quizzical look and frowned. “How will that help? He won't have his broom.”

 

Severus rolled his eyes. “Do you know the summoning charm, Harry?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Harry replied. 

 

“Good, because sometimes the best thing to do is keep things simple. A simple spell to enable you to get what you need?” he said significantly. 

 

Harry mulled over the man’s words, and then the pieces fell together. “I need to practice my summoning charm,” he said with a grin.

Harry, hidden under his invisibility cloak, made his way slowly along the corridor keeping to the wall his eyes on Cedric Diggory. The seventh year was the only Champion still in the dark about the dragons, and Harry had been trying to catch him on his own for two days, in between going to class and practising his summoning charm with Daphne, Theo and Blaise.

 

Unfortunately, Cedric was never alone; he was always surrounded by at least half the members of Hufflepuff House. In desperation, Harry fired a cutting charm at Cedric’s bag and watched as books, quills, and parchment fell to the ground. As Harry had hoped, Cedric sent his friends on ahead as he stopped to pick up his belongings and repair his bag. 

 

Harry pulled off his cloak and approached the older boy. “Hey, Harry. My bag just broke, I don't know how it's brand new.” 

 

“Dragons,” Harry hissed in lieu of any greeting. “The first task is dragons. Fleur and Viktor will know by now. You're the only one who doesn't. So now you do. They’ve got four nesting mothers, and we need to retrieve something from their nest,” Harry said quickly. 

 

Harry was almost pleased to see Cedric pale; finally, someone else was feeling the same panic he had been dealing with for the past two days.

 

“Why are you telling me?” the older boy asked. 

 

Harry was confused. “What do you mean why am I telling you? I told you the others know Madam Maxime, and Professor Kararoff both saw the dragons, too. Look, I am telling you the truth - it’s dragons, Hagrid showed them to me. Now we all know and so it’s fair isn’t it?”  he explained. 

 

Cedric nodded and stood up putting his repaired bag over his shoulder. “Thanks, Harry,” he said, and he walked down the corridor after his friends.

 

Harry watched him go; he did not see the man watching him from the shadows. Alastor Moody would not have been surprised to see Harry giving Cedric the heads up about the first task; Barty Crouch Jr, however, was disgusted. The boy did not know how to play to his advantage, had not expected Potter to be quite so fair-minded; he was a Slytherin after all. 

 

He turned around and stomped off down the hall; in his temper he forgot about Moody’s bad leg and he almost collapsed from the sudden pain. Cursing under his breath, he slowed his steps and limped back to his office. Potter had two people helping him, so he should have a handle on the task, but still, he would check with the boy after their next class.

 

Harry went back to the dungeons.  The common room was too loud for him to sit there, lots of people had a free period on Friday afternoon so Harry made his way upstairs to his dorm. The room was empty and Harry wondered if Draco had snuck back down to meet Charlie again. He had not had a chance to ask his brother about that, even though Draco had mentioned in passing that Harry should study dragons in particular, nesting mothers. Harry did not ask why; he just thanked Draco and added a book about dragons to his pile of books to borrow from the library. 

 

 It was late in the afternoon, and Harry was in his dorm, lying on his bed. He was worn out from his classes and his training with Essie, but his panic about the dragons had him still trying to practise. He would need to cast a strong charm to get the broom to come to him from the castle. He planned to leave it in Essie's room and her window open, so that it would not have to make its way out of the dungeons.  He lifted his wand and lazily cast the summoning charm at a book on Draco's bedside table, for what felt like the hundredth time, but he lost his focus, and the book fell out of the air before it made it to his bed.

 

Sighing in frustration, he got off his bed and walked over to pick up the book, which had fallen face down on the floor. Harry picked it up by the spine, and an envelope fell out; It was addressed to Charlie Weasley. Harry stared at the envelope. He had suspected Draco was writing to Charlie, and while it did not bother him, he knew Luiucs would not like it. Not that Harry intended to tell him, he had a feeling Draco was serious about dragon trainer, but their father would not consider Charlie a suitable match for his heir, even if he was a pureblood.

 

He carefully slid the envelope back into the book and replaced it on his brother's bedside table. It really wasn't any of his business, but he was a little hurt that Draco had not told him. He knew he had been distracted by the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and he was spending a lot of time with Essie, but he felt like he had not talked to Draco in forever, and he missed his brother.

 

Flopping back on his bed, he cast a Tempus charm and decided he time for a nap before dinner. He would talk to Draco tomorrow, he decided, and he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 10: Conversations

Summary:

Harry talks to Neville about wands and learns something about him. Draco spend time with Charlie and Harry worries about the ramifications of him falling in love with a Weasley.

Notes:

Hello,
The story is starting to take shape, I think we have set the scene for things will go now. Charlie and Draco will get a bit more time than I orginally planned because I love them. I also want to get lots of Harry and Seveus in to.

I am starting classes again next week, and life is always unpredictable, but I have a clear idea of how the story will go now, so hopefully it will flow a bit quicker.

The wandlore comes from Faithless’ story and I have made their brilliant story into a book Harry loans to Neville. I have no idea why the font in the link at the end is so big, probably because I was lazy and copied and pasted. 🤔

As always, thanks for reading - Maeve ✨💚✨

P.S. - I've just re-read this - I am sorry I will fix the many and various errors 🫣

 

Harry’s plan to talk to Draco failed to come to fruition the following day. Draco disappeared after breakfast, and though Harry had a sneaking suspicion, he would find Draco behind the wards near the forest, watching Charlie Weasley do whatever it was that dragon trainers did, he did not follow him.

 

Tempting though it was to go after Draco, Harry decided that one of the Champions getting caught behind the wards surrounding the dragons would create unnecessary drama, so he sat under a tree near the edge of the lake, reading a book and waiting for Draco to reappear. 

 

He had been sitting, pretending to read a book on advanced magic, which he borrowed from Essie for almost an hour, when he saw Neville Longbottom run down the steps of the castle and head straight towards him. Harry kept the book up to his face as he watched the boy approach. He had the feeling Neville had not seen him yet, so he waited, pretending he had not noticed the other boy.

 

“Oh, sorry…I um…never mind, I'll go,” Harry heard Neville mutter several moments later when he arrived under the tree.

 

Looking up from his book, Harry noticed Neville seemed flustered. “You don't need to go,” Harry said kindly. “The tree is big enough to share. Take a seat.”

 

Neville hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder, then he sighed and sat down. He reached into his bag and pulled out a large book about water plants and their properties. “Thanks, Harry, the Gryffindor common room is too noisy, and Krum’s fan club has taken up residence in the library. I don’t know how he can just ignore them, huffing and sighing all the time.”

 

Harry shrugged “I guess you can get used to anything,” he replied. 

 

Neville opened his book and began to read. Harry observed the boy for a moment. He liked Neville, but the other boy always seemed so flustered and anxious.  The book looked new; it was not one Harry had seen before, and it did not have a library charm on it. “Is that a new book?” Harry asked mildly, interested. 

“Oh, ahh, sort of, Professor Moody loaned it to me. After the lesson with the spiders. I guess he knows I like plants and he saw I was upset by the…the class,” Neville replied. 

 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That was nice of him.”

 

Neville looked at Harry. “I saw you, your response too. I don't think Moody should have been allowed to do that…not with…not with us in the class. It’s not fair,” the boy said timidly. 

 

“Us? As in you and me?” Harry asked.

 

“Yeah, well, given what happened to our parents…” Neville said softly, with a knowing look at Harry.

 

Harry did not say anything, but he thought back to the lesson. Neville had looked sick when Moody cast the cruciatus curse, and Moody had specifically asked for Neville's name when he had suggested the curse. Harry looked at Neville for a moment, the boy flushed and under his gaze and looked away. “I am sorry, I shouldn't have…”

 

“No,” Harry breathed, as a horrible, sickening thought formed in his head. “No. It’s ok, Neville. You said our parents were your parents…I mean, were they…”

 

Neville looked at the ground and whispered. “A couple of days after your parents were killed and You Know Who vanished, my family was attacked. Three Death Eaters, who thought my parents knew what had happened to their master, attacked us in our home. My parents were tortured with the curciatus curse until…well, they are still in St Mungos. They won’t ever recover.”

 

Harry did not know what to say, having your parents murdered was one thing, having them tortured so badly they were still in the hospital with no chance of recovery was something else. “I am so sorry, Neville,” he said. It was not enough, but he did not know what else to say.

 

The other boy shook his head. “Thanks,” he whispered and opened his book.

 

The two boys settled quietly, both focused on their books. They sat together in companionable silence for some time, Harry still watching the forest wards for any sign of Draco.  The sun had moved much higher in the sky when Harry’s stomach began to rumble. Neville took out his wand and cast a Tempus spell. The wand sent out a few sparks and a puff of smoke, but it did not reveal the time. 

 

“Is something wrong with your wand?” Harry asked with concern 

 

Neville shook his head, “It’s my dad’s wand. Gran says it’s very powerful. I guess I am just not powerful enough to use it,” the boy said sadly. 

 

Harry considered this for a moment. Since his magic had been unblocked, he had become more sensitive to other people's magic, and he knew that Neville was much more powerful than the boy himself seemed to realise. He looked at light coloured wand in the Neville’s and said softly. “When I got my wand, the wizard…er, Mr Ollivander, he said that the wand chooses the wizard. So maybe your dad’s wand is just not suited for you.”

 

“Gran says that’s nonsense; she says my dad was a powerful wizard and that his wand should be powerful enough to make up for my shortcomings. She expects me to be as powerful as my dad, but I am not, and I don't want to disappoint her or let my dad down,” Neville confessed sadly. 

 

Anger flashed in Harry’s eyes; how blind must Lady Longbottom be, if she could not see her grandson’s power? “Hummm, I think your Gran is wrong. Would you like me to show you why?” Harry asked. 

 

Neville narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How?” he asked. 

 

Harry pulled his wand out of its holster and placed it on the ground. “Put your wand next to mine,” Harry instructed the other boy. 

 

Neville hesitated, then he did as Harry asked. Harry studied the two wands, then he closed his eyes and placed his hand out over his wand, and then over Neville’s wand, feeling and comparing the latent power of each wand.  Neville’s wand was a powerful one, made of unicorn hair and ash, which, if Harry recalled his wand lore correctly, explained why it did not work well for Neville.

 

“May I pick up your wand?” he asked. 

 

Neville nodded and Harry reached out, taking the ash wand in his hand. It felt foreign in his hand like the many wands he had tried before he found his match on the day at Ollivanders. He turned his hand over and opened it so his palm was facing up. He let go of the wand, which seemed to jump out of his hand and hover just above his open hand.

 

“I am a very powerful wizard, Neville,” he stated simply. “In my first year here, I learned that I had blocks placed on my magic because I was so powerful, and my Muggle relatives were scared of me, but even the blocks did not stop my accidental magic,” he continued as the wand floated in the air. Finally, he snatched the wand out of the air and cast the tempus charm. 

 

Nothing happened; the wand refused to cast the charm. Harry tried again, channelling more of his power into the wand; it smoked but did not reveal the time. “You see, power has nothing to do with it. This wand is made from ash wood. Ash wands are quite picky about who they let use them, and they are very loyal. Ash wands rarely work for anyone who is not their chosen wizard. I can give you a book about wand lore, it has a whole section on wand woods and cores, if you’d like,” Harry offered. 

 

Neville’s mouth dropped open. “But…Gran said because I am family…” 

 

“Yes, it’s because you are family that it works for you at all. It is a loyal wand and recognises your connection to its master, but you are not him. The wand is the reason you struggle, Neville, not your magic,” Harry said firmly. 

 

Neville shook his head sadly, “Gran will never believe that, the Longbottoms have always passed wands from father to son.”

 

Harry frowned. This must be another pureblood thing he had not been taught about yet. He would ask Essie in their lesson later, and then he would talk to Severus about it. Neville was a menace in the potions classroom, and if this wand was the reason, then surely there had to be something they could do to help Neville. 

 

Harry floated the ash wand back to Neville and picked up his wand. He cast a tempus charm, which told them lunch would be served in ten minutes. If I were you, I would talk to my head of house. I am sure if you explain the difficulty you are having, Professor McGonagall will help you.” 

 

Neville nodded his head. “Yeah, he conceded. “I’ll do that, thanks, Harry. Could I still borrow that book about wand lore?” he asked.

 

Harry reached into his bag and rummaged around for a bit, then, with a deep sigh, he cast a summoning charm without his wand, and a tiny book flew out of the bag into his hand.  Harry resized it and passed it to Neville, who was staring at him, gobsmacked. 

 

Harry shrugged “Mother, put an extendable charm on my bag so I could carry more books, but it makes them a bit hard to find, especially when I shrink them down,” he explained. 

 

“Of course,” Neville replied with a bemused smile. He tucked Agata Gregorovich’s Guide to Wandlore into his bag next to Moody’s book. “I am quite hungry,” he observed, so I am going to head back up to the Great Hall. Thanks for letting me sit with you and for the book.”

 

“Any time, Neville,” Harry replied with a smile. He looked towards the invisible barrier as Neville walked away, still no sign of Draco and Harry was getting rather peckish too. Slowly, he packed up his books and stood. He had his lesson with Essie after lunch he would have to try and catch Draco after dinner.

Tom Riddle sat in his study and mused over his plan. So far, it seemed to be coming together. Harry Potter was in the Tournament and had,  as far as Barty and Augustus knew, agreed to compete; there had been rumblings of a legal challenge early on, and Lucius was very good at using the laws to get what he wanted. Fortunately, he had been talked out of it. 

 

Barty had reported that Harry knew about the first task, and he had Severus and Essie helping him to devise a strategy for completing the task. Tom was confident that things were on track to make sure the boy would be where he needed to be. It was time now to turn his attention to the last few Horcruxes. 

 

The diary and ring had been successfully absorbed back into his body, and he had the diadem in his possession. His locket was safe behind numerous deadly protections in a cave near the beach he had been to as a child. The orphanage had taken the children to the beach near Kent three times while Tom lived there, and the white cliffs had fascinated him. It had not been difficult for him as an adult to create a hidden cave in the cliffs. He would go there soon, but he had to go alone, and it would be a little longer before he would be strong enough to travel so far alone.

 

The cup, however, would be easy; Tom had asked Lucius to enquire about access to Bellatrix’s vault, and Lucius had reported that either Narcissa or Harry as Lord Black would be allowed access to Bellatrix’s personal vault, but not the Lestrange Family vaults. Tom was certain Bella would not have put it in a vault her husband’s family could enter. She had been ridiculously pleased to be entrusted with the task of protecting something for her Lord, and she would have trusted no one else.

It was time to contact Narcissa and set her a task; Lucius' reaction to his request would give him further information about the man’s loyalty. Tom had no reason to doubt the Malfoy Lord yet; he had so far been open with him even regarding Harry Potter. He had high hopes that the Malfoys' connection to Harry would only benefit him in the long run. 

Draco did not appear in the Great Hall for lunch, but Harry was not worried; he had a good idea where his brother was, and he had no reason to think Draco would be in any trouble. Charlie Weasley had seemed like an honourable wizard, and he seemed to really like Draco. Harry was beginning to think he should maybe mention it to Severus, though.

 

Across the hall, the Gryffindor fourth years were discussing the first task at the top of their voice and what they thought the champions might have to do. Harry caught snatches of their ideas, such as fighting a chimaera, collecting acromantula silk or hunting a mountain troll. 

 

Harry tried to ignore them, and even though nothing they came up with was even close to the reality of nesting mother dragons, every bark of laughter caused the knot in his stomach to tighten. Giving up on eating any more, he left the Great Hall to peals of Gryffindor laughter.

Essie Daniels was thoroughly enjoying being at Hogwarts. Every time the Headmaster saw her, his expression changed, his eyes stopped twinkling, and his mouth tightened as he forced himself to greet her civilly. Her reply was always saccharine, overflowing with gratitude to him for allowing her to stay (like he had a choice). She was careful not to push him too far, and only appeared for meals once a day and kept to herself the rest of the time. 

 

She had come to lunch on a whim that day; something had drawn her to the Great Hall, and when she observed Harry’s demeanour, she began to understand. The more time she spent at Hogwarts, the more she was sure that the castle itself had quite a lot of magic, and it seemed to have its favourite students. Fred and George Weasley, for example, seemed to go largely unnoticed until whatever prank they intended was triggered. It seemed strange that the staff did not watch them more closely, though if Severus was to be believed, it was due to their being Gryffindors. Still, the twins never caused any real harm, though, and Essie had the feeling the castle found them amusing. 

 

Harry, too, seemed to hold the castle's favour; there had been some unpleasantness in the first few days after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, but it had died down quickly. It might have been Harry’s friendship with Viktor Krum or Cedric Diggory’s defence of him in the Hufflepuff common room, but the more she observed the more sure she became that Hogwarts had played a part in settling the students. 

 

It seemed it had been Hogwarts who wanted her at lunch, maybe to observe her young charge as he sat alone at the Slytherin table, eating very little and doing his best to ignore the spirited conversation at the Gryffindor table. When Harry stood up and left the hall, his food mostly untouched, she finished her soup as quickly as she could while maintaining her usual poised appearance before hurrying after him.  

 

Harry was waiting outside her room when she caught up with him, he gave her his usual smile and bright greeting, but Essie noticed the smile did not quite reach his eyes. She gave the password to the portrait of an elegant dark skinned woman, who sat by a window reading a book.  She never spoke but she always smiled when Essie gave the password. 

 

Once inside her rooms, Essie called for Dobby and ordered another bowl of the hearty vegetable soup she had just eaten and a bread roll. When the food arrived, she set it in front of Harry and ordered him to eat; he rolled his eyes, but he obeyed the order, eating the whole bowl along with the roll.

 

When he was done, the woman gave him an assessing look, the same look she used to give him on the first day back at school after the term break, when she would check him over for injuries, and force him to eat extra sandwiches. On those days, she had given him a different drink, juice instead of milk; he suspected now that the juice somehow helped him to eat more without throwing up. 

 

“Are you going to tell me why Hogwarts was so insistent that I should go to lunch today?” she asked him cryptically.

 

Harry lifted his head and looked at his guardian. “Hogwarts wanted you to go to lunch?" he asked. You know how ridiculous that sounds, right?”

 

“No deflecting, mister, what’s going on?” Essie insisted.

 

Harry blew out a sigh. “I think Draco is sneaking down to the dragon enclosure to meet with Charlie Weasley. I think he likes Charlie, but I have a feeling that Father won't be happy about it. I should probably tell Severus, but I don't want Father to know, and Severus will probably tell him. Also, dragons!” 

 

Essie nodded her head. “We will get to the dragons. As for Draco, have you talked to him?” 

 

“No, I…somehow I haven't talked to him since I found out about the dragons. We just…I don't know, somehow we never talk any more,” Harry confessed. 

 

“Severus mentioned he was a little worried about the two of you; he thought maybe you’d had a falling out?” Essie replied. 

 

“Not really, it's just that…well, I've been focused on the task and on practising the summoning charm. Daphne has been helping me with learning about Dragons and Draco, well, he is not often in the common room. Not since Charlie arrived.”

 

“Has he said anything to you about the dragons? I assume he knows about them, since he is spending so much time with Mr Weasley," Essie asked with a frown. 

 

“Yeah, sort of, he told me I should study up on dragons, in particular the characteristics of nesting mothers and how to handle them. I think Charlie told him not to tell me, at least it looked that way when I saw the two of them the night Hagrid took me down to the enclosure under my cloak. Madam Maxime was there, and Draco seemed to be arguing that if she knew, then Fleur would know,” Harry stopped. Then he looked up at Essie. 

 

“Draco looked at Charlie the way I look at Severus. I know I am too young, Sev reminds me all the time that I am only fourteen, but…does that mean I don't know how I feel? I think I love Severus, and so maybe Draco loves Charlie…Father won't like it,” Harry said, his words tumbling out as he tried to convey his thoughts accurately.  

 

Essie sat down beside Harry and brushed the hair off his face in the same affectionate way she had when he was her student. “I cannot tell you how you feel, Harry, but you have always been an old soul. You grew up fast, in a less-than-ideal environment. I think you know your mind better than most people your age, and I think Severus knows that. The reason he holds you at arm's length is that he is your teacher, and he is much older than you. People will assume he manipulated you somehow when your relationship becomes public. He is, in his way, trying to ensure you know your mind and are making your decision because it is what you want and not because you think you have no choice,” she told him. 

 

Harry nodded, that made sense and and it was what he had thought was the case. “What about Draco?” he asked. 

 

“Draco is a pureblood child raised in a pureblood family, which means there are certain expectations on him in terms of marriage. He will be Lord Malfoy and therefore he will be expected to father and heir to the Lordship. He could do that through surrogacy, but that might not be something the Malfoys do. I don't know enough about the family to say for sure, but I do think you can rely on Severus to keep your confidence. Unless he believes Draco to be in danger, I believe he will respect your request. He is also better placed than I to know how your parents will react, and why they might react that way. You should also talk to Draco,” she told him.

 

“Yeah, I guess. It just seems hard to talk to either of them at the moment, and I don't understand why,” Harry told her. 

 

“It’s because you are worried about your relationships, and you are scared that the conversations will go badly. My guess is Draco is just as afraid to talk to you as you are to talk to him. It can be hard to talk about relationships in general, even with family. As for Severus, he probably doesn't want to force you to talk. He likely wants you to trust him enough to come to him of your own accord,” Essie explained. “You do trust him, don't you? There isn't anything you should tell me about him?” she asked suddenly. 

 

Harry looked confused. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, do you feel safe with Severus? He doesn't pressure you in any way, does he?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she assessed Harry’s reaction to her question.

 

Harry burst out laughing. “No, he doesn't," he told her, smiling his first genuine smile since he arrived in her room. “Severus is the perfect gentleman, our dates, if you can call them that, are still chaperoned, and at school, he is very professional. Sometimes when I went to him as my guardian, he hugged me, but only when I needed it.” 

 

Essie relaxed and smiled back at Harry. She had not expected anything else, but she was relieved nonetheless by Harry’s response. “Excellent, well, if there is nothing else on your mind, then we can discuss dragons. I did happen to hear some of the conversation at the Gryffindor table at lunch, it didn't bother you at all?” 

 

“I wasn't paying attention, I heard some of it, but not one of their ideas comes close to being as scary as nesting dragons,”  he told her. 

 

Essie smiled. “Fair enough, let's discuss dragons then.”

 

That evening, Draco appeared in the common room just after curfew, looking flushed, his lips were kiss swollen, and his hair tousled in the way it usually was in the morning when he woke up. Harry, who was sitting alone by the fire, reading a book on dragon training, glanced up as he approached. He put the book down immediately as Draco sat down beside him with a giddy smile on his face. 

 

Harry's eyes swept over his brother, taking note of his magic, which was sparking; there was no sign of injury, and Harry was quite sure he had never seen Draco look happier. “So, are you ready to tell me about Mr Weasley then?” he asked dryly.

 

Draco smirked and began to talk. 

 

Severus was on patrol. He had seen Draco sneak in just after curfew; he had no idea where the boy had been, but he certainly looked like he’d had fun. He would need to keep an eye on his godson; he knew Luicus was beginning to put out feelers for a marriage contract. He had spoken to Alwin Parkinson and Selwyn Greengrass about Pansy and Asoria. Severus knew Pansy had her sights set on Lucien Bole, but he had no idea about her family's view.  The Greengrasses usually prefer to look further afield for their daughters' partners; if Daphne’s betrothal was anything to judge by, they would be looking to the Italian or perhaps German magical communities. 

 

As midnight neared, he headed back to his rooms. It had been quiet for a Saturday night; he had only found three couples who had snuck out for a late-night tryst. Lost in thought, Severus did not immediately register Harry’s presence in his sitting room. The boy was curled up against the arm of his sofa, his head resting on his arms, his invisibility cloak covering his lower half. 

 

Smiling to himself, Severus continued to his liquor cabinet and poured himself the whiskey he had been looking forward to since his patrol began. Then he sat beside Harry, and shook the boy awake. “Harry,” he said in a low tone. 

 

Harry stirred and turned his face up towards the voice. “Sev?” he asked. 

 

“Well, yes, you are in my rooms,” he replied with some amusement. Truthfully, he was somewhat relieved to see his young betrothed. They had missed their Friday night hot chocolate, and Seveus had been concerned about Harry and how he was coping with being thrown into the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

 

Harry sat up, and the cloak fell off him, revealing his green and red plaid flannel pyjamas, and he rubbed at his eyes tiredly. Severus looked at him with the same assessing gaze Essie had earlier in the day, and Harry sighed. “I am fine, Sev,” he said softly. “I was sorry we missed our Friday night chocolate and I wanted to see you, that's all,” he told the man. 

 

Severus settled back against the back of the sofa and called Dobby to bring some hot chocolate. When the elf had delivered a mug of chocolate and a plate of homemade jammy dodgers, Severus opened his arms, and Harry moved so he was nestled against his betrothed's side. 

 

“I have missed you,” He said into Harry’s hair. 

 

“Hummm, I have missed you too,” Harry said, as he nibbled on a biscuit. 

 

Severus stroked Harry’s hair and whispered. “I have been worried about you. Things seem a bit strained between you and Draco. Is everything alright?” 

 

Harry sighed. “Yes, we are fine. We hadn’t spoken in a while; we both had stuff going on. We talked tonight through.” 

 

Severus hummed but did not reply, sensing Harry had more to say. Instead, he continued to gently run his hand through Harry’s hair. 

 

“I want to tell you something, as my fiancé and I don't want you to tell Mum and Dad,” Harry said slowly. 

 

Severus stopped running his hand through Harry’s hair and manoeuvred the boy so he could look him in the eye. “Harry, as your fiancé, I will always keep your confidence. Unless I believe you or someone else to be in danger, anything you say to me will go no further,” he said seriously.

 

Harry nodded and settled back down against Severus. “It’s Draco,” he began. “He…well, you remember Hagrid's baby dragon?” he asked. 

 

“I do,” Severus said. 

 

“Well, Ron’s brother Charlie came a took it away and Draco, well, I think he developed a bit of a thing for him.”

 

“For Charlie Weasley?” Severus clarified. 

 

“Yeah, the thing is we saw Charlie again at the Quiddich World Cup and…dad…he kind of suggested that he doesn't like the Weasleys,” Harry continued. 

 

Severus huffed, but did not say anything. 

 

“Anyway, Draco talked to Charlie, and I think maybe he has been writing to him, but the point is… Draco’sbeensneakingouttomeetCharlie,” Harry said in a rush. 

 

Harry felt Severus freeze behind him, and he turned to look at the man. 

 

Severus looked Harry in the eye and said. “I would ask you to repeat that slowly, but I don't think I would like it any better if you did.” 

 

“You won't tell, will you? Please?” Severus cupped Harry’s face. “Did Draco tell you this, or did you see him sneak?” 

 

“Both, I saw him the night Hagrid took me down to see the dragons, and he told me tonight. The thing is, Draco is really happy, he likes Charlie, and I know Dad doesn't, but…I mean it's not like they’re getting married or anything, but if they did, would it be so bad?” Harry asked. 

 

”There is a long-standing feud between the Malfoy family and the Weasley family. It is over a broken marriage contract, I believe. So, technically, Draco marrying into that family would resolve the feud. However, Lucius and Arthur Weasley would have to agree to the marriage and the to resolution of the feud ,” Severus told Harry. 

 

The younger man rolled his eyes. “That's another pureblood thing, right?" he said drily. 

 

“To an extent, yes,” Severus told him. “It is a very traditional thing. Blood feuds are not as common now, but those already in place are usually upheld by families.” 

 

“So what would that mean for Draco?” Harry asked. 

 

“Well, assuming he and Charlie are serious and wish to pursue a marriage contract, they would both need to petition the heads of their partners' families. I dare say Draco would have a much easier job convincing Arthur Weasley than Charlie would with your father. However, if it was what Draco wanted, I believe your mother would back his choice, and she would take up his case with Lucius, in which case Lucius might agree.” Severus told him.

 

Harry huffed, “That is ridiculous! In the Muggle world, they would just do whatever they wanted to do!” 

 

“Some might yes, but where large sums of money and family titles are involved, I think it might be just as difficult, in the Royal family for instance; also, I don't think two men can get married in Muggle World,” Severus told him. 

 

That much was true; Harry knew it was not legal for two men to marry in the Muggle World. He had sought confirmation from Hermione under the guise of expressing surprise that it was legal in the Wizarding World.  

 

Harry pressed back against Severus, and the older man lowered his arm around him. “Was that the only thing on your mind?” he asked gently. 

 

“Hummm, no. What do you know about passing down wands through families?” Harry asked.

 

The older man scoffed. “That is truly a ridiculous pureblood tradition,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Neville Longbottom…” Harry replied. “...he is using his dad’s wand.”

 

Severus was stunned and silent for a moment. It was no wonder the boy was such a menace in his classroom. “Mr Longbottom’s wand is made from ash wood…” he said finally. 

 

“Right, so you can see the problem?” Harry asked him.

 

Severus made a noise indicating he did indeed see the problem. “I will speak to Minerva.”

The first Task was only a week away, and now that Harry had a clear plan, which he was certain would work. He was doing his best to forget about the fact that, come Saturday morning, he would be facing down a nesting mother dragon.

 

On Sunday, he went out flying with Viktor and the Slytherin Quidditch team. Quiddich had been cancelled due to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and Harry had been missing flying. So Marcus booked the pitch, and they all took to the air to burn off some energy. 

 

Monday morning, he had been pulled out of potions for a wand weighing ceremony. Fortunately, Essie was present, so Rita Skeeter, the journalist from the Daily Prophet, who had been trying to get an interview with Harry for three years, was forced to content herself with a brief pre-written statement from Harry.

 

The resulting article was published the next day, and it pushed the boundaries set down by Harry's lawyer. The article focused on Harry’s controversial inclusion in the Tournament, his wand wood and core and what they might mean, and the possible feelings of the other Champions about Harry, being allowed to compete. It seemed Skeeter had also gotten comments from several Gryffindors,  who were happy to disparage Harry as a spoiled brat who got whatever he wanted because he was the Chosen One. 

 

The comments made by the other Champions were included at the end of the article, as they had little to do with Harry being part of the competition and were largely an addendum to the article about Harry.

 

Harry had arrived at Breakfast to hear  Ron Weasley reading from the article at the top of his voice. “One has to wonder how Mr Potter managed to become the fourth champion in the Tri-Wizard Cup. As the name would suggest, the Tournament has traditionally only had three contestants. The other three contestants must surely feel slighted;  in particular, Mr Cedric Diggory, who many students believe to be the real Hogwarts Champion. Mr Dean Thomas of Gryffindor said it was typical that Harry Potter would get special treatment. While Mr Ronald Weasely…”

 

Harry never heard what Ron had told Skeeter because the newspaper was wrenched out of his hand and flew across the Great Hall. It was caught by Viktor Krum, who fixed Ron with a furious glare as he tore up the paper. Dumbledore stood to intervene, but when he realised who had cast the summoning spell, he took his seat again, apparently unwilling to discipline Viktor Krum.

 

By Wednesday, Harry was feeling so sick that Severus had written a note excusing him from class. He was on his way back to the Common Room after spending the afternoon in the Library with Viktor. He was pulled into an open classroom by someone very strong. Harry did not even have a chance to call out before he found himself in a room he had never seen before, behind some very strong wards. 

 

Harry spun away from his attacker, his wand in his hand, ready to cast a stunning spell. He froze when he saw who it was that had caught him. “Professor Moody?” he said, his eyes wide. Harry forced his magic back into his body lest the old Auror see it with his magical eye. He would not let the man see how scared he had been. 

 

“Good work, laddy. Excellent reflexes,” the man said quickly. “I apologise for frightening you,  but you weren't in my class and I was worried. The first task is only a few days away, and as the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, I just wanted to make sure you had a plan. I know you have your guardian, but I promised the Headmaster I would keep an eye on you,” he said in a voice which suggested the words were painful to say.

 

Harry lowered his wand, but he did not put it away. “The Headmaster asked you to check on me?” he asked. 

 

Moody chuckled. “You are an odd one, Mr Potter,” he said. “You are the youngest Champion, the first task is looming, and you're surprised the Headmaster is concerned about you?”

 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “As you pointed out, sir, I have my guardian here, and my Head of House is not about to let me disgrace Slytherin House. I have a solid plan, so you don’t need to worry about me. I really can't see why the Headmaster would want you to keep an eye on me,” he said coldly.

 

Barty Crouch Jr studied the defiant child in front of him. He had not been sure what the Dark Lord saw in the boy; he was small for his age, and though he had some muscle definition, he was not nearly as strong as Viktor Krum or even the Diggory boy. Now, however, it made sense; Moody’s magical eye allowed him to see the immense power that was leaking out of him as he tried to control his temper. 

 

The Defence Professor raised his hands in defeat. “Professor Dumbledore only has your safety in mind,” he said placatingly. 

 

Harry glared at the professor. “Well, maybe he should have done a better job of securing the Goblet of Fire, then we would not be here. However, as we are here, you may tell him I am fine and have no need of help from him or you,” he snapped.

 

Moody glared at the boy, but Barty Crouch was intrigued. “Alright,” he said. “I will leave you be. I look forward to seeing what you come up with on Saturday. Good luck, Mr Potter.”

 

The wards on the room fell away as Moody stamped towards the door, and the man left without so much as a backwards glance.  Harry stayed where he was, his wand still drawn, for several minutes, thinking about what had happened. Why would Dumbldore ask Moody to keep an eye on Harry? Was he worried about Harry failing and possibly dying? He had not seemed overly concerned when he was telling Harry he had to compete. Yes, his tone and facial expression had suggested he was worried, but the gleam in his eyes had told a different story. 

 

Harry put his wand back in his wrist holster and left the room, his mind now firmly on Saturday and the bloody dragon he was supposed to steal from.

Merlin help him.

Wand Lore borrowed from - 

Agata Gregorovich's Guide To Wandlore by 

Faithless_3105

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42486126/chapters/106707771

Chapter 11: The First Task

Summary:

The first task takes place, and Harry proves his mettle.

Notes:

Hello,
I have been ignoring my assignments to write this; the next chapter will likely be two or three weeks away, depending on how long they take me once I actually start 🫣.

As always, thanks for reading.

Love Maeve ✨💚✨

 

 

The morning of the first task, Harry was awake early. He lay in his bed, looking up at the canopy on his bed, wishing the day was already over. He knew what he would be facing, and he had a plan for completing the task, but he still wished that the day were already over. 

 

Harry was not sure how long he had been lying awake when he heard the other boys start to move. He listened to Theo heading into the bathroom, and then Draco was standing beside his bed. “Harry, are you ok?” he asked softly. 

 

“Yeah,” Harry replied. “What time is it?” 

 

“It’s about ten to eight. We’ll need to hurry if we want breakfast.” Draco told him.

 

Harry smiled at the ‘we’, knowing it was Draco’s way of telling him that he would be there for him today, and he was grateful. Harry sat up, pulled back the curtains on his bed, and smiled at Draco. The blond boy smiled back and grabbed Harry’s hand to pull him up.

 

The fourth-year Slytherins arrived together in the Great Hall at 8:30 am, all of them surrounding Harry. The other students in the Great Hall all watched as Harry was escorted to the Slytherin table and surrounded by his year-mates. 

 

Daphne put scrambled eggs and toast on Harry's plate and coaxed him to eat them. He managed to eat about half before the gong sounded, summoning the Champions to meet with the officials before the Task. It was supposed to be where they found out what the task entailed; Harry supposed they were meant to pretend to be surprised. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at Essie. 

 

“Time to go, Harry,” she said quietly. 

 

“Are you coming with me?” He asked her, hopefully.

 

 “Yes, I will walk with you to the Champions' tent, but you will have to go in alone. I’ll be watching, though. I’ll be in the stands with Severus. We will both be in the tent when you are done. Ok?” Harry nodded and followed Essie out of the Hall. 

 

The wards hiding the stadium and the spectator stands had been removed, but there was no sign of the dragons. Harry walked towards the huge, blue and white striped Champions' tent, feeling like he was walking to his own execution. When they got to the entrance, Essie put a hand on each of Harry’s shoulders and turned him so he was facing her. Then she bent down to look him in the eye. 

 

“You’ve got this, Harry,” she said firmly. “You know what to do; you are more than capable of doing this. You will be fine. Severus and I will be watching, and the moment you are done, we will be with you. 

 

“Are Mother and Father here?” he asked. 

 

“No, not today. The champion's families will not be invited until the last task. There will be a special gathering for champions and the families a few days before, and they will be invited to watch the last task,” she told him. 

 

“Right, ok,” Harry said, steeling himself to walk into the Champions' tent alone. 

 

Essie pulled him into a hug. “You can do this, everything is prepared exactly the way we discussed, you just need to cast the charm and fly,” she told him. 

 

“Yeah, I know. Just another Quidditch match, right?” he said with a half-hearted smile. 

 

Essie smiled at him, “That’s right, just another Quidditch match.” 

 

Harry nodded and pulled himself out of her grip. Taking a huge breath, he walked into the tent, his head held high, picturing himself looking calm and composed and hoped that was what other people saw. 

Inside the tent, Fleur sat on a bench, looking pale but calm. She looked up as Harry entered the tent, but she did not smile. Krum was standing next to a locker, putting a change of clothes in it; Harry had not thought about that, and he hoped he could keep at least most of his clothes undamaged during the task. Cedric was on the other side of the tent. He looked almost a sick as Harry felt, and somehow that helped Harry feel better. He walked towards the bench near Cedric, and he sat down to wait. 

 

Silence fell in the tent as each of the champions contemplated the task at hand. Harry was not sure how much time had passed before the quiet peace of their tent was shattered by the exuberant chatter of Ludo Bagman. They heard him long before he burst into the tent, his boyish face alight with excitement. “Champions,” he said with unbridled delight. “Welcome to the First Task!” 

 

He looked around at the four champions and beamed. “I know you are feeling a bit anxious right now, but the task we have arranged for you is truly thrilling, and once you have successfully completed this task, you will have a clue to decipher for the next task. So, right to it then. Your task today is to retrieve the golden egg from its guardian.” Ludo paused and looked around at each of the champions, who stared blank-faced back at his delighted smile. 

 

When no one spoke, Bagamn went on. “Right, so on with it then.” he held up a large black bag and grinned. “In this bag is a replica of the guardian you will face, and have to get passed to retrieve your golden egg,” he told them. 

 

Harry glanced at Cedric, who nodded to him with a grim expression to show Harry he understood. Bagman, grinning manically, approached Fleur. “Ladies first,” he said, holding out the bag.  

 

Fleur took a deep breath and put her hand in the bag. She drew out a small green dragon, “Ahh, the Welsh Green, Bagman said with a satisfied grin. Fleur looked at her dragon with grim determination, as Bagman continued clockwise around the tent, approaching Krum next. The Bulgarian drew out a red dragon Harry recognised as a Chinese Fireball from the book Draco had given him. 

 

Bagman announced the name of each dragon as they were drawn out. Cedric got a Swedish Short Snout, and Harry sighed, knowing what was left; he had seen it the night he followed Hagrid down to the enclosure. The dragon had been furious, even Charlie had said so. Harry put his hand in the bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail. 

 

Hungarian Horntails were as vicious and aggressive. They were deadly both front and back, due to the huge spikes on their tail. It was, according to every book he had read, the most dangerous of all dragons. Harry looked down at the small back dragon in his hand. It had sat down in his palm and was glaring up at him, smoke swirling from its nostrils as it regarded him. It was about the size of Severus' kitten, and if it didn’t represent a real-life dragon, which Harry had to fly past to retrieve an egg from its nest, he would find it kind of cute. The dragon had black and bronze scales and spikes on its tail, and around its neck was a gold medallion with a number four on it. Harry raised his finger to pat the dragon, and it flicked its tail, stabbing a bronze spike into Harry’s hand. He swore loudly at the sting. 

 

“Language, Mr Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she appeared in the tent. Harry did not reply, and when Minerva saw the small horntail in his hand, she pursed her lips together and turned to Ludo Bagman without another word. “We are ready to begin, Mr Bagman,” she told him shortly. Then, with a worried glance back at Harry, she left the tent with a Snape-like swirl of her robes. 

 

“Excellent,” Bagman enthused, rubbing his hands together, his boyish face glowing with excitement. “Well, I am commentating, so I will leave you the capable hands of the officials. Unless you have any questions…” he said, looking expectantly at the contestants. “No. Right, well, the number on your dragon is the order in which you shall compete. You will be called out when it is your turn. Good luck to you all and may the best man, or woman, win,” he winked at Harry and swept out of the tent.

 

Moments later, Percy Weasley appeared, looking pale even for a Weasley. He looked at Cedric, whose dragon had the number one on the medallion around its neck. “You’re first, Mr Diggory. Follow me, please.”

 

Cedric stood, depositing his small dragon on his bag and following Percy out of the tent. 

 

The contestants could not watch the others compete; they had to stay in the tent. The three remaining champions sat in silence, waiting.  Then, as if a spell on the arena had been lifted, the air was filled with the cheers of the crowd watching and the roar of an angry dragon. Bagman’s magically enhanced voice broke through the noise of the dragon and the crowd. His commentary gave away nothing that Cedric was doing, and Harry wished he could cast a silencing spell on the tent. Bagman roared his approval at whatever Cedric did; the onlookers were screaming, and Bagman was delighted. “Clever bit of magic, Mr Diggory, very well done. Will it be enough for him to…ohhhh, that will be a nasty burn. Come on, Mr Diggory, you will have to do better than that. Oh my, lovely bit of transfiguration, very clever, but will it work, yes…yes, he has it. He had the golden egg, brilliant work, Mr Diggory.” 

 

The noise from the crowd was deafening. Harry sat down on the bench and put his dragon down so he could cover his ears. As the noise settled, Fleur was called, and Harry began to feel sick. The commentary from Bagman was much the same as with Cedric; Fleur, however,  got her egg much quicker than Cedric had, and then Harry was alone. 

 

He could not hear what Bagman was shouting about Krum, over the noise in his head as he waited for his turn. It seemed to take forever, and yet no time at all before he was called. Drawing a deep breath, he stood and followed Percy out of the tent and down a rough dirt track to the back of the dragon enclosure. They drew to a halt in front of a large metal gate. Percy gave Harry a tight smile and told him to stay there until the gate opened, and then walk straight ahead into the arena. Percy walked away, and Harry was alone again. 

 

Bagman was shouting, and the crowd was cheering. Harry could not make out any words, and then the gate opened, and Harry walked through it. He followed the path, and then he found himself in a large enclosure. There was a stand on the left where the crowd sat; silence had fallen over them, but Harry barely registered it as he scanned the area in which he stood, looking for his dragon. 

 

His first thought on seeing her was that she was huge; his second was that there was more than one egg in her nest. There were three cement coloured eggs and one gold egg, which was his target. Focusing on that egg, he raised his wand and called out “accio, Firebolt.”

 

Nothing happened for several long seconds, and Harry almost panicked, but then he heard it, his Firebolt buzzing towards him. He spun around as the broom swept down and hovered beside him. Harry grabbed the broom and mounted it swiftly, and then he was in the air and suddenly, anything was possible. He flew closer to the dragon and began to buzz around her head like an annoying insect. He could see her eyes focused on him as she assessed the threat to her eggs, watching him as he ducked and weaved around, staying just far enough away that she did not breathe fire but still close enough to be a threat. 

 

The dragon snorted in frustration, and Harry swooped down. A burst of fire came his way, and he rolled to avoid it. He began to circle,  dropping down then rising again. Come on, sweetheart, come and get me,” he cooed to her, and she roared. 

 

“Go away,” she hissed. “I will burn you.” 

 

Harry did a double take. Had he just heard the dragon speak?

 

He flew back towards her, lower now and hovered in front of her. “Did you say something to me?” he asked her. She growled and hissed, “Ssstupid human, I do not understand your language, leave my eggs alone.” Her tail flicked, and Harry sped away, not fast enough, though, and her tail spike tore into his shoulder. 

 

Harry barely felt it as his mind raced, he flew high again and circled. The dragon had not understood English, but he had heard her speak. Then it dawned on him, dragons must speak Parseltounge, steeling his nerve, he thought of Bindi and picturing her clearly in his mind, he flew down towards the dragon again. 

 

“Stop,” he hissed loudly, as she raised her tail. Astonishingly, the dragon listened to him, freezing mid-swing and eyeing him closely.

 

Harry rushed on; now he had her attention.  “I mean you and your babies no harm. I just want the egg which does not belong to you,” he told her. 

 

The dragon blinked slowly at him. “Serpent speaker,” she hissed. “Not a serpent,” she said, sounding confused. 

 

“No, I am not a serpent, but I speak, do you understand me?” Harry asked her. Staying close enough for her to hear him, but far enough away to make a quick exit if needed.

 

“I understand you, but why must you steal from me?” she demanded. 

 

“I only want the egg which is not yours. I swear I will not harm your other eggs, just let me take the gold one,” he told her. 

 

The mother lowered her head and sniffed at the eggs in her nest. Harry saw the moment she realised she had one which was not her child. “What is this?” she asked, nosing at the golden egg and pushing it toward the edge of the nest. 

 

“It is what I have come for,” Harry told her.” It is not one of yours, please, I will not harm your other eggs,” he repeated. 

 

The dragon regarded him for a long moment. “This is a game to you,” she hissed. 

 

“It’s a competition,” Harry confessed. “That’s why so many people are watching, I am supposed to put on a show for them while getting that egg.”

 

“A show, is that what they want? Well then, youngling, fly!” she hissed as she lifted her massive body from her nest, stretching her wings and beating them. She created a strong breeze which almost blew Harry off his broom.

 

“Oh, you want to play, do you?” Harry hissed, and he took off flying higher; the dragon took off after him. She circled her nest before turning her attention back to Harry, chasing him. Higher and higher they flew the dragon chasing after Harry as he swooped and spun around the enclosure and up over the spectator stands, then back over the forest. Once he had her engaged in the chase, he sped back towards the nest. The golden egg looked no bigger than a snitch from his perch high above the arena. 

 

Circling it once more, he dived towards the nest. As he closed in, he reached out with his magic and summoned the egg, which flew into his open arms.  He felt a strong wind behind him, as the dragon returned to her nest; he rolled out of her as the huge beast settled back on her eggs.

 

Harry, who’d had the time of his life, flew back to thank her for the game. He wasn’t sure if dragons could smile, but he thought this one might have been smiling as she hissed.” That was fun, youngling. Now take your egg and leave me,” and she curled her tail around her eggs. 

 

Suddenly, it was as if the sound and been turned up and Harry heard the crowd cheering and calling his name. He circled out over the stands and then flew back towards the fence at the back of the enclosure and landed outside the gate right in front of Professor McGonagall and a white faced Percy Weasley. 

 

Professor McGonagall looked to be in shock, but she gathered herself quickly. “Potter, that was very well done, now come along, that shoulder needs to be seen to,” she said stiffly as she walked off in the direction of a white tent further down the path.

 

In the tent, the other Champions sat on hospital wing beds, with steaming mugs of tea. Fleur and Ceric were being treated for burns, and Viktor looked to have injured his foot. Madam Maxime and Headmaster Kararoff were standing next to their champions while Professor Sprout fussed around Cedric force force-feeding him chocolate. 

 

Madam Pomfrey swooped on him the moment he set foot inside the tent. She bustled him over to the last bed and sat him down while muttering about dragons in a school. She vanished his shirt,  leaving him feeling very exposed, as she began to dab his shoulder with some kind of potion. Harry winced at the sting. “Well, what did you expect?”  the Mediwitch said fiercely, “Honestly, dragons of all things. Now, stay still, I can't heal this until it is clean.” 

 

Harry sat as still as he could, while the medi-witch fussed around him, clicking her tongue. He had just begun to wonder where Severus and Essie were when they both walked into he tent. They did not rush or make a fuss. Severus surreptitiously looked Harry over, examining the wound, and watching closely as it was cleaned. His face was completely expressionless, but his eyes burned with what was left of his fear for Harry. 

 

Essie stood on his other side, looking like she wanted to hug him, but one look from Madam Pomfrey had her holding off. “That was truly astonishing, Harry. I had no idea you could fly like that,” she told him; Harry could see her pride shining on her face, she was proud of him, and Harry felt six feet tall.

 

Severus grunted, and Harry met his eyes, “Indeed, Potter, that was very well done.” 

 

Harry smiled, knowing he would probably be berated later for being reckless and talking to the dragon, not to mention the dive. Right now, however, Harry was happy to bask in the glory of success. 

 

The scores at the end of the First Task had Harry and Krum tied for first place, with Cedric just two points behind in second place. Kararoff had protested that Harry had not used enough magic,  given that all he did was fly on his broom and talk to the dragon. However, no rules had been broken according to Mr Crouch and and so that was that.

 

The Slytherin  Common Room was a riot of noise when Harry finally got back there; it was just like after any Quidditch win. Daphne had thrown her arms around him as soon as he got through the door, knocking the golden egg out of his hands. Luckily, Theo caught it before it bounced down the steps.

 

There was a table full of food along the wall, someone had been to the kitchen and collected a lot of cauldron cakes, biscuits, pumpkin pasties, sandwiches and pumpkin juice. There was also a crate of butterbeer, which had mysteriously appeared in the common room and, after being thoroughly checked over by the prefects, was declared safe to drink.

 

Draco snuck into the common room an hour later and made a beeline for Harry, pushing Pasny aside so he could sit next to his brother.

 

“That was quite some flying,” he said finally. 

 

“Thanks,” Harry replied, a huge smile on his face. 

 

“Charlie said to tell you, he’s never seen anyone fly like that outside of a professional match,” the blond said softly so only Harry could hear.

 

Harry grinned. “How is Charlie?” he asked. 

 

Draco flushed bright red. “He’s good,” he mumbled. 

 

Harry let it go and handed Draco a butterbeer. He smiled at his brother, “I am happy for you,” he whispered. 

 

A smile he could not hide broke over Draco’s face. “Thanks, Harry,” he replied.

The party was loud. Severus watched from the top of the stairs as the prefects checked the butter beer he had left for them. He had known he could rely on them to be sure it was safe. He watched as Harry talked and laughed with his friends, reliving his spectacular performance through a blow-by-blow description from Theo and Baise. Severus left Harry to enjoy it. He would, however, have a lot to say about dangerous flying stunts in the morning.

 

The next morning at breakfast, Viktor congratulated Harry on his flying skills and encouraged him to get a coach and try out for professional teams when he was sixteen. Harry was surprised he had not thought of Quidditch as a career; he wondered what Severus would say if he mentioned it. He had a feeling the man was going to have a lot to say about his dive yesterday.

 

Severus was not at breakfast, so after he had eaten, Harry made his way back to the dungeons, walking past the common room entrance, down to Severus' quarters. He knew the password, but he knocked just in case anyone was watching.

 

It took a few minutes for the door to open. Severus was dressed in his usual shirt and trousers. “Harry, come in. I was just speaking with your parents. Essie promised them the memory of the first task; she took it to them last night.”

 

“Oh, am I in trouble?” Harry asked. Severus stepped back to allow the young man into his quarters. Harry entered and automatically looked at the fireplace. “They are gone, I was able to convince them you were perfectly well,” Severus said with a grim expression.”However, they are expecting a letter from you asap.”

 

Harry nodded and went to sit down. “So am I in trouble with you?” he asked. 

 

Severus snorted. “No, brat, you did exceptionally well. I may have had several heart attacks watching you dive and roll, but I am very proud of you. You did exactly as I advised you and played to your strengths.” 

 

Harry grinned, “I was surprised to learn dragons speak Parseltongue,” he replied.

“You were talking to it?” Severus asked in surprise. 

 

“Yeah, she told me to go away, and I understood her. I tried to talk to her in English, and she got mad because she couldn’t understand me, so I tried Parseltongue, and she answered. I told her I just wanted the golden egg, not her eggs, and she said I could have it.” 

 

“She chased you!” Severus said in exasperation.

 

“Oh yeah, but I think she just wanted to play,” Harry replied easily. 

 

Severus shook his head, “Only you would play with a dragon, brat.” 

 

“It was fun,” Harry enthused. 

 

Severus called Dobby for tea and sat next to Harry so he could check his shoulder. “It’s fine, Sev,” he grumbled. 

 

“I am allowed to be concerned about my betrothed,” Severus told him, “...now take off the shirt!”

 

Harry pulled the tee shirt over his head and turned his back so Severus could see the red line, which was all that was left of the gash from the Horntail’s spiked tail. 

 

“It has healed well,” Severus told him. 

 

“I told you,” Harry retorted. 

 

The tea arrived, and they spent the rest of the day together, Harry understanding that Severus needed him close after his shock yesterday. Harry knew the man had been terrified for him, and a part of him was happy he had been.  They talked about the second Task. Harry had yet to properly look at the egg he had retrieved, and he agreed to bring the egg to his next training session with Severus and Essie so they could examine it.

 

Harry completed his homework and told Severus about Viktor’s suggestion that he get a coach and consider trying out for professional Quidditch teams. To the man’s credit, he did not disparage the idea, but he did say he expected Harry to complete his education. 

 

Taking that as a win, Harry agreed he would finish school,  after all, Viktor was still at school and playing for his country. 

Barty Crouch was fuming; he had spent a whole day in reach of his wretched father and had not been able to kill the man. His Lord had given his permission for Barty to dispose of his father whenever he had the opportunity, as long as he was not caught. Barty had hoped to get the chance sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, the man had never been alone. 

 

Taking parchment and quill, he sat to draft a letter to the Dark Lord. He was pleased to have good news to report. Harry Potter had put on an incredible display of flying, and Barty could not help but be impressed. It had been impossible to hear anything much over the noise of the spectators, but he was almost certain the boy had been talking to the dragon. 

 

The Dark Lord would want to know if there was a possibility that Harry Potter could talk to dragons. He had heard rumours of the boy being a parseltoungue, possibly dragons also spoke the tongue his Lord would know. 

 

Barty took his time ensuring he included all the details of the First Task, including the competition. Realistically, Barty thought Harry’s only real competition was Krum. The Bulgarian was a fair athlete and magically powerful, not to mention he went to Durmstrung, although from his observation, the young man did not seem quite as ruthless as his headmaster. 

 

Igor Karkaroff was another reason for Barty’s report to his master. The man had been a Death Eater, he had been honoured with his Lord's mark, and he had sold out the moment he had been threatened with Azkaban. He, like all the turncoats, would be punished when his Lord regained his strength after the ritual. 

 

It would be Barty’s great pleasure to deliver Harry Potter into the hands of his Lord through the Tri-Wizard Tournament; however,  the more he learned about Harry Potter, the more he questioned his Lord’s plan. Harry was not in any way Dumbldore’s pawn. The Headmaster himself had told Barty in his guise as Moody that Harry had not fallen into line with the old man’s plans. 

 

Potter was a proud Slytherin, living with the Malfoys and betrothed to Severus Snape. Barty did not think it would take much convincing to bring the boy into the fold. Still, it was not for him to question his Lord’s plan. 

 

By the time he had written everything, the letter was very long, and Barty wondered if he should hand-deliver it. No, he could not risk leaving the castle. Dumbledore was not at all suspicious of him, but there was no point taking risks. His Lord was counting on him, and Barty would not let him down. However, the walk to the Owlery was long, and the steps were hard to manage with Moody’s bad leg. If he waited a bit, the polyjuice would start to wear off, and some of Barty’s strength would return. It was late enough that he would be unlikely to be seen. He sat back on his sofa and summoned his whiskey decanter to wait for the potion to wear off.

Albus Dumbldore was beside himself with glee; the first Task had been a complete success. As much as he hated having Essie Daniels in the Castle, he had to hand it to her; Harry had performed beautifully. He had stuck to simple spells, but his summoning charm had to have been exceptionally powerful to bring his broom to him from wherever it had been in the castle, and he had summoned the egg out of the nest while flying at top speed. On top of that, he had put on an incredible show, coaxing the dragon off its nest before he swooped in to grab the egg. It had been spectacular to watch, and Albus could not have asked for better from his young student. 

 

If Harry kept up this level of performance, he would win the Tournament, and the wizarding community would see that he was right. Harry Potter was an exceptional child who was both powerful enough and strong enough to stand against the Dark Lord. They would place their trust and hope squarely on the boy, and Albus was certain he would rise to the challenge. 

 

Then, when Voldemort finally showed his face, Harry would be ready to fight him. It was probably for the best that Harr had not faced Voldemort in his first year. He had been too impressionable and may well have been swayed by the smooth-talking Dark Lord. Albus knew just how hard it could be to deny a man with charisma. He had been fooled by Grindlewald in his youth; he had been completely taken in by the man. He had fallen hard, so hard that even after all these years, he still loved the Gellert. 

 

Yes, it had all worked out for the best; this way, Harry would know how powerful he was, and he would understand why he was the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord. Albus understood the heavy burden he was placing on the boy. He had felt the weight of the Wizarding World himself when Gellert rose to power and went mad. It would be easier for Harry; he would not be in love with Voldemort. 

 

There were still potential hiccups he would have to deal with, the Mafloys, Severus and the diary, which Harry said had contained the soul of Tom Riddle. It was a disturbing idea that someone, even Voldemort, would deliberately split their soul as a means of achieving immortality. Albus had underestimated Gellert, and he had sworn never to make that mistake again. It was why he had been so hard on young Tom Riddle; he had seen the signs even when he had been a boy of eleven years old. 

 

Albus had always known he would not be the one to stop Tom. Yes, he could have defeated him before he became a Dark Lord, but no one would have thanked him for killing a child. Tom had been too clever, so Albus would have to settle for being the one to guide Harry. He had much to teach the boy, just as soon as he saw the truth and accepted his role as the Chosen One. Albus was sure that it would happen when Harry won the Triwizard Tournament despite his young age.

 

Finally, it was all coming together.

Chapter 12: Before the Ball

Summary:

The days leading up to the Yule Ball.

Notes:

Hello,

So, I know I said that this chapter would be the ball, but I got a bit carried away with things which happened first, and so the ball and the aftermath of the ball will be in the next chapter.

As always, thanks for reading

 

Maeve ✨💚✨

Before the Ball 

 

The shock and excitement from the First Task continued for several weeks. Everywhere Harry went, people were talking about the dragons and how each contestant had fared in the task. Most people had been impressed with Harry’s flying, though the Hufflepuffs had been begrudgingly so, since Harry was ahead of Cedric on points. 

 

He heard a lot of opinions on the score. Most people thought Fleur should have scored at least as well as Cedric, and most people had been less than impressed with Viktor's conjunctivitis curse, except for Harry, who was planning to ask the Bulgarian to teach him the spell. He could see the value in a spell which would affect an opponent's eyesight without doing lasting damage.

 

When Harry finally ventured into the Library on Sunday morning after breakfast, he found Hermione and Viktor at their usual table. Hermione had been horrified that Harry was expected to take part in such a dangerous competition. She was only marginally happier that Viktor had been allowed to compete. “At least he’s of age,” she told Harry crossly,  as if it had been his idea to compete. 

 

Fred and George seemed to have forgiven him; the two found him sitting down by the lake on Sunday afternoon. Harry was waiting for Draco to return from seeing Charlie when the twins dropped down beside him under his tree. “Hello, Harrykin,” they said in unison.

 

 “Long time no see,” George said. 

 

“We’ve been meaning to catch up with you and chat…” Fred added. 

 

“...about the First Task,” George finished.

 

It seemed the twins had been very impressed with the First Task, in particular Harry’s flying display. They had both enjoyed Fleur trying to put the dragon to sleep. According to Fred, it had worked well until the dragon snorted in its sleep and breathed fire, setting her joggers alight before she could retrieve the egg. She had put it out with Augmenti. Harry wasn't sure why she had scored so low. He thought her plan was a great idea. “Cedric transfigured a rock into a dog and tried to get the dragon to go for the dog,” Fred told him. 

 

“It was a clever idea, and it worked too. He got the egg. Though he got burned too when the dragon decided at the last minute it would rather have him than the dog,” George finished.

 

“You were the best, though, Harry,” Fred told him. 

 

“Definitely the most entertaining,” George added. “Krum tried a conjunctivitis curse, which worked well except the dragon stood on one of its own eggs. He lost points for that; you weren't supposed to do any damage to the real eggs.”

 

Harry frowned, even less sure now why he had scored so high. George saw his frown. “Come on, Harry, don't look like that. You did well; you deserved your score,” the redhead told him with a knowing look. 

 

Harry looked sideways at the boy sitting next to him. “I used a simple spell to get my broom, and then, I used the same spell to get the egg,” Harry said with an eye roll. 

 

“Yes, but once you got your broom, you flew like a demon straight from hell, and you summoned your egg wandlessly,” Fred retorted. 

 

Harry flushed, “You noticed that?” he asked. 

 

“The wandless magic, yeah, we noticed,” Fred told him. 

 

“Oh,” Harry replied. 

 

The three sat in silence for a while after that until Draco appeared at the tree line, looking smug about something. “Looks like Charles gave young Draco the news, Gred,” Fred said. 

 

“Indeed, Forge, it looks that way,”  George replied. 

 

“What news?” Harry demanded.

 

George grinned. “Our dear brother has decided to stay at home for a bit. He’s been invited to watch the next two tasks as thanks for his work in bringing the dragons over.”

 

“Never thought I’d see the day that Charlie liked anything as much as his dragons,” Fred said, waggling his eyebrows. 

 

Harry shrugged. “Well, my brother’s name is Draco,” he observed, with a grin.. 

 

That brought Fred and George up short for a moment, before they both roared with laughter “That it is, young Harry, that it is,” George said. 

 

Harry eyed the twins; he had been wanting to ask them about their need for money, and now seemed like an opportune time. “So,” he began. “Did you two have any luck with Mr Bagman?” Both twins' expressions darkened instantly.  

 

“Not yet, we haven't been able to catch him alone,” Fred growled. 

 

“He’s avoiding us,” George added. 

 

Harry eyed the pair of trouble makers, “I know I am going to regret asking, but what do you two need the  money for?” 

 

Fred, who had been sitting on the other side of his brother, suddenly scrambled to his feet, reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass bottle.  “I don’t suppose I could interest you in some Peruvian Darkness Powder?” he asked.

 

“Or maybe some puking pastilles?” George asked, holding out a handful of small red lollies. 

Harry made his way to Essie’s rooms, his head spinning with what he had just learned; Fred and George had been developing pranks that they were selling in Gryffindor Tower, trying to raise enough money to open a shop. Harry now had his answer to the question of why the twins seemed to be in such desperate need of money, and it had made him think. 

 

Fred had told him about their planned business venture, and it was clear that while they had made a miscalculation placing a bet with Ludo Bagman, they were not going into this blind. They had a business plan, some very good products and some serious development plans. They were in the testing phase of their development, and currently, their market was small - only Gryffindor students, but from what Harry had gathered, they were selling a lot of their products. 

 

Thanking his lucky stars once more that he was not in Gryffindor, he considered what he could do to help short of buying their products. Fortunately, he had not had any money on him when they offered their products; however, George had pressed the puking pastilles into his hand as a free sample. Harry was unsure what to do with them; he knew he should give them to Severus to check if they were safe, but he didn't want to get the twins into any more trouble. 

 

Harry was so deep in thought that he was not watching where he was going, and he crashed into Viktor, causing the older boy to drop his stack of books and parchment. “Sorry, Harry,” Viktor said with a deep sigh as he bent down to pick up his belongings. 

 

“No I am sorry, Viktor. I wasn't paying attention. Let me help you,” Harry said as he knelt down to help collect the fallen books. 

 

“I was distracted by the Yule Ball,” Viktor explained as Harry helped him stack his books in his arms. 

 

Harry looked blankly at him. “By the what?” 

 

“The Yule Ball is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament. The champions and their partners take to the dance floor in the first dance of the night. I want to ask Hermione to be my partner. Do you think she would agree?” Viktor asked.

 

Harry was struck dumb. Why had no one told him about this? Then he remembered the dress robes, which he and Draco had been fitted for when they went to buy their school supplies in July; suddenly, it made sense that they had been on the list. Still, it would have been nice to have a heads-up; he didn’t know the first thing about dancing. Viktor, however, was too distracted by his concerns to notice and was waiting for Harry to answer him. 

 

Taking Harry’s silence for uncertainty, Viktor went on. “I know that she is supporting you and Cedric as Hogwarts Champions, but I thought she might agree in the spirit of international relations…” 

 

Snapping out of his stupor, Harry put a reassuring hand on Viktor’s arm. “I am sure Hermione would be honoured to go to the ball with you, Viktor. I am sorry for my reaction, it’s just that I had forgotten about the ball,” he explained. 

 

“Oh,” Viktor said, a smile breaking out on his face. “Well, a good thing I reminded you. I must go and find Hermione. Thank you for your help,” he said as he headed off towards the library. 

 

Harry continued on his way to Essie’s rooms, his mind now completely occupied with the Yule Ball. He had danced with Severus at the New Year's Ball last year, if one could call it that. Severus had held him firmly, though not particularly close, and his strong arms had just carried Harry along; he had not even known the steps. However, if he were to open the dancing with the Champions, he would have to lead. At least his arrangement with Daphne meant he didn't have to worry about a date, though he supposed he should still ask her properly. He blew out a sigh and hoped Essie would be able to help him with the dancing. 

 

He had just raised his hand to knock on the door when it was pulled open, and Harry found himself face to face with Severus. “Harry, there you are. I was just coming to find you,” he said, stepping back to allow the boy to enter. “We have something we need to talk to you about.”

 

“I hope it’s the Yule Ball,” Harry said, sitting down on the sofa with a huff. 

 

“It is, yes, I wasn’t sure if you knew. Albus will be announcing it at dinner tonight, and it occurred to me that you might require a few dancing lessons,” Severus said evenly. 

 

Harry raised his eyebrow. “Might? That’s putting it mildly,” he replied. 

 

Severus smirked. “Well, fortunately for you, Essie and I are here to help.”

 

“Harry,” Essie said as she entered the sitting room from her bedroom. “I see Severus found you. Has he told you about the Ball?”

 

“No, but I ran into Viktor on my way here and he mentioned it,” Harry told her. “He was worried Hermione might refuse to go with him; like anyone would say no to him,” he muttered. 

 

Severus observed Harry closely. “I assumed you would be going with Miss Greengrass.”

 

Harry nodded. “Yes, I will have to ask her,” he said absently. “I still need to learn to dance, Though, so I don’t step all over her feet, or trip us up.”

 

“As Severus said, we can teach you to dance,” Essie assured him.  “You do have dress robes, I assume?”

 

“Yes, they were on our book list,” he told her. “But what about the golden egg. I tried to open it, but it almost deafened me.”

 

Essie looked at Severus, and an odd look passed between them. “We will get to the egg,” Essie said, returning her attention to Harry. “First, though, you need to learn to dance.”

That night after dinner, the headmaster did indeed announce that the Yule Ball would be held on December 25th. On the day, a Christmas Feast would be served at lunchtime, and a light supper would be served at the ball, which would take place between 8:00 pm and midnight. All students in fourth year and above were invited to attend. 

 

Harry stared at Dumbledore as he explained that the Champions and their partners would parade in at the beginning of the ball, and they would sit at the head table with the teaching staff and Ministry officials. After supper and the official part of the evening, the Champions would open the dancing.  The Headmaster went on about how the ball was a way to celebrate friendship and burgeoning international relationships in the spirit of the Triwizard Tournament.

 

Harry had been expecting the announcement, but he still felt ill when Dumbledore announced it like it were some wonderful event. He felt a hand press into his, and he turned to look at the girl sitting beside him. He opened his mouth to ask her to be his partner, but before he spoke, a hand wrapped around his face from behind and covered his mouth. 

 

“That is not how a Malfoy asks a woman to accompany him to a ball, Potter,” Draco hissed in his ear. 

 

Pansy shrieked with laughter, and Daphne’s smile widened. 

 

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled his brother's hand away from his mouth. “Fantastic, do I need lessons for that too?” 

 

“Yes,” replied Draco, Theo and Blaise in unison. “Don’t worry, brother, I will not let you besmirch my name or yours by doing it wrong.”

 

Severus watched the antics of his snakes with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. It was fortunate the rest of the school was thoroughly distracted by the Headmaster’s announcement; perhaps he ought to have a word with his students about maintaining the dignity of Slytherin House in public. 

 

When the meal ended, Severus rose from his seat a moved to leave via the staff exit. He had just left the Hall when he was accosted by a frantic man in a long red coat. Igor Kararoff stood in front of him, looking pale and anxious. “Severus, we must speak,” he demanded. Despite his pale complexion and the fearful look in his eyes, Igor maintained his dignified stance and his haughty expression.  

 

“Must we indeed, Igor?” Severus replied in his bored drawl. “I really can't imagine what we might have to say to one another.” 

 

“You know Snape,” Kararoff hissed. “You very well know,” the man rubbed his arm subconsciously, while glaring at Severus.

 

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Igor,” Snape replied testily. 

 

Igor looked furious. “You cannot just ignore it, Severus, you cannot. You must know that it is getting darker,” he insisted in a harsh whisper. 

 

“Now is neither the time nor the place, Igor. I have students to see to, as I imagine you do”, he replied irritably. “Go and see to your students,” he hissed when the man remained in front of him. 

 

“We will speak, Severus. You cannot deny it forever, I am right about this,”  Igor spat before he turned and stormed away. 

 

Severus sagged against the wall as the man stalked away and brought his right hand to his left wrist in an almost unconscious gesture. He knew, of course, what Karakroff was talking about. The mark was getting darker, and it was beginning to twinge. The pain was nothing compared to what it had once been, but it was there.

 

Luicus had been just as concerned when he had floo called earlier in the week. The marks were getting stronger, a sure sign that the Dark Lord was returning to his former power. Severus knew this could only mean trouble for him. He was betrothed to the Boy who Lived, the same boy who had faced the Dark Lord without fear or concern and insisted that Severus belonged to him and his Lord had capitulated. 

 

Severus had no idea what the return of Lord Voldemort would mean for him or Lucius or those who had served and sworn their lives to the Dark Lord. Death Eaters all over Britain and the parts of the continent would know he was gaining strength. The mark on their arm was all the proof which was needed. No doubt many would be pleased; others would be terrified. He wondered how many would be brave or perhaps stupid enough to try and run. Severus had always known Dumbledore was most likely right about the Dark Lord returning. The man had been too obsessed with immortality not to have taken steps to ensure he would not die. 

 

Lucius intended to seek an audience with the Dark Lord to try and ascertain just what the man was planning. Rookwood was his right-hand man, and he was no fool; he was an Unspeakable capable of magic beyond well beyond what most Wizards could manage. He was intelligent enough to have been in Ravenclaw, despite being placed in Slytherin. Severus would not be surprised to find The Dark Lord had other help as well by now. 

 

Harry was under the impression that Tom, as the wretched boy called his Lord, would go the official, political route this time, and Harry was prepared to back the man in some of his aims. Harry agreed that Magical children should be raised in safe, loving environments where they were understood and protected. He did not want any more children to suffer the same fate as he, and Severus and the Dark Lord himself had endured.

 

Severus was still leaning against the wall when Albus entered the corridor from the Great Hall. “Severe, my boy, are you well?” he asked, his concerned grandfatherly expression on his face. 

 

“I am fine, Albus,” Severus replied snippily. 

 

“Hummm, nothing I should know about?” he pressed, looking at Severus over his half-moon spectacles. 

 

“Nothing, Albus, when there is, I shall report it to you,” Severus said, pushing himself off the wall and walking away, determinedly keeping his hand off his wrist. 

 

Dumbledore watched him go, the door behind him opened and closed, and Alstor Moody limped up behind the headmaster. Without so much as a backwards glance, Albus said, “Keep an eye on him, Alstor,” and he walked away in the same direction Snape had gone. 

 

“Will do, Headmaster,” Moody growled. “With pleasure.”

The next two weeks, Harry’s lessons with Essie and Severus were focused on learning to dance. Essie was a very good instructor as it turned out, and Harry found himself moving effortlessly around the small space in Essie's rooms, held firmly in Severus' arms. The man was a very good dancer, and he simply took Harry with him as he danced. Harry soon learned that he did better if he did not think about his feet. 

 

Finally, Essie declared that Harry had the hang of it and was ready to start learning to lead. First, Essie danced with Severus so Harry could watch what Severus was doing. He was supposed to be taking note of Severus' steps and where he was putting his feet so as not to step on Essie’s toes. Unfortunately, all Harry could see was Essie and Severus dancing like professionals, and something like jealousy stirred inside him.

 

When the dance ended, Harry quickly moved back into Severus's arms. The man gave him a knowing smirk as he practically pushed Essie aside and held Severus much closer to him than Severus had held Harry. When they began to dance, Severus easily switched roles; Harry not so easily. It was much harder to lead than to follow, and Harry found himself so focused on counting the beats and planning the steps that he could not think about where his feet were going. During a short break, Severus quietly transfigured his shoes into steel-toe boots. 

 

However, Harry persisted, and in a relatively short time, he began to get the hang of it. By the time they stopped for the day, he and Severus were moving together, fairly gracefully and almost smoothly around Essie’s room. 

 

Brimming with confidence, Harry began to think about how to ask Daphne to accompany him to the Yule Ball. Draco had given him strict instructions that he was to request to speak with Daphne alone and offer her a gift with his question. Flowers were an acceptable offering, but Draco had warned him to be careful about which flowers he chose. Harry, having no idea what Draco had meant by that, had sought out Neville for further advice. 

 

Fortunately, the Gryffindor boy took pity on Harry and agreed to help. So on the following Sunday afternoons, Harry found himself heading down to one of the greenhouses behind the Herbology classroom. Professor Sprout, it turned out, grew a large assortment of both Muggle and magical flowers for decoration purposes. Neville patiently explained to Harry that all flowers had meanings, and that the colours sometimes changed the meaning. He even gave Harry a book on the language of flowers. 

 

Harry was intrigued, and he flicked through the book while asking Neville questions. He discovered that gardenias symbolised pure love, red carnations represented love, and white ones stood for innocence. He also discovered that geraniums meant stupidity; this amused Harry no end, as his Aunt Petunia had always been so proud of her geraniums. 

 

The sheer number of flowers was overwhelming. Neville, however, was in his element, and after asking Harry several questions about his relationship with Daphne, he took charge of creating Harry’s bouquet. Finally, presenting the young Slytherin with a bouquet of freesias, orange and white chrysanthemums, and camellias, which meant Gratitude, friendship and truth. Harry thanked Neville, and the two boys made their way back to the castle. 

 

When they reached the Entrance Hall, Neville made his way up to Gryffindor Tower while Harry turned down towards the dungeon. It was here that he found Draco standing in the corridor, a bunch of pale pink gardenias in his hand, and a dazed smile on his flushed face. Guessing he had just missed Charlie, Harry shepherded his brother into the common room and went to speak to Daphne. 

 

Later that night, while Severus was out on patrol, Harry snuck out of his dorm and made his way to Severus' room, where he left a small bunch of lilacs* (which he had chosen with help from Neville’s book while the other boy had been distracted by Daphnes’s bouquet), on the man’s chair before making his way back to his dorm. 

Christmas Day dawned, and Harry woke up to a pile of presents on his bed. It was quite a large pile filling a good half of his bed, and Harry grinned. It never failed to surprise him that his mother spent so much time thinking about him and what he would like for Christmas. His few Christmas Days spent with the Malfoys had more than made up for ten years in the Dursleys’ dubious care. 

 

Pulling the curtain on his bed back carefully so as not to dislodge any gifts, he looked out to see if the others were awake. There was movement behind Draco’s curtain, and Blaise was already opening his presents. Theo must have been in the bathroom as he was not on his bed.

 

“Happy Christmas,” Harry called out. 

 

Draco threw open his bed curtain and grinned at Harry. “Merry Christmas, little brother,” he replied 

Once the season's greetings had been passed among all the boys, the present unwrapping began in earnest. 

 

Harry received more clothes, a new terrarium for Bindi, some books on ancient ruins and one on dragons. Harry stopped and looked again at the dragon book, and was a little shocked to find it was from Charlie Weasley. 

 

“Getting in good with the in-laws,” Theo commented from his bed. Harry laughed, and Draco flushed as he opened a box containing a large leather-bound diary and an ornate dragon etched in the front cover. 

 

“Oh wow!” Blaise said. “Is that a reciprocal journal?”

 

“A what?” asked Harry. 

 

“A reciprocal journal, you write in it, and the person with the other journal can read the message and reply,” Blaise explained. 

 

Draco picked up the card, which read - So we don’t exhaust your owl. Love Charlie. 

 

Draco said nothing, but reached for the quill from the new stationery set Severus had given him, and he scribbled a quick message. Moments later, the book glowed, and Draco opened it to read Charlie's reply. Then immediately drew his curtains; the sounds of his quill scratching the parchment were lost over the other boys' sniggering. 

 

Over an hour later, the dorm floor was completely covered in wrapping paper. The boys had unwrapped all their presents and put them away in their trunk or set of drawers. Harry had showered and pulled on his new jeans, a black T-shirt and his favourite oversized grey knit jumper. 

 

Harry managed to drag Draco away from his new book with the promise of seeing Charlie at breakfast, and they made their way to the Great Hall.

 

Charlie was sitting at the Gryffindor table with the twins, but at a gesture from Harry, he quickly abandoned his old house to eat with the Slytherin fourth years. 

 

Breakfast was festive, it included the usual fare along with crepes with berries, and eggy bread, pain au chocolate, omelettes and potato breakfast hash, a bacon and avocado salad, which Daphne piled on her plate and Kolach, which was, according to Viktor, a type of Ukrainian bread.

 

Harry ate far too much as he always did at Christmas. As they headed back to their dorm, they were drawn outside by shouting and laughter, and they found themselves in the middle of a Gryffindor v’s the rest of the school snowball fight. 

 

A snowball smacked Draco in the face, and Charlie, gentleman that he was,  instantly sent a snowball back at Fred, who shouted about Charlie being on the wrong side. The snowball fight lasted for several hours. 

 

It ended as most of the girls got up and went back inside with no explanation offered. Ron had yelled out to Hermione to ask where she was going, but she had only looked over her shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. Ron had shrugged, and Hermione had disappeared into the castle along with Lavender, Parvati, Pansy, and Daphne. 

 

 Once the action stopped, it got cold fast, and the boys went into the Great Hall for a quick bite from the buffet, set out by the elves for any students below fourth year who had stayed for Christmas. They all headed back to their common rooms. Harry did not see Daphne again until it was almost time for them to go to the ball. He was standing near the fire, wondering if he was supposed to collect her from her dorm, when Draco thumped his arm and nodded towards the stairs. 

 

Daphne was a vision in green, her dress robes perfectly matching Harry’s. He had no idea how she had managed that, but she looked incredible. He held out his hand as she approached, taking her offered hand, he kissed it the way he had seen Lucius kiss the hands of female guests at the New Year's Ball. 

 

Draco was the only one without a date, but no one was particularly surprised by this; by now, everyone knew about his infatuation with the second-oldest Weasley. Despite the Weasley family being considered blood traitors and barely respectable members of wizarding society, no one said a word against the match. 

 

The common room door swung open, and Severus stepped inside, looking, Harry thought, absolutely divine in his black dress robes, which had been tailor-made and fit him like a glove, moulding to his wiry yet strong body.  On his lapel was a small sprig of lilacs. 

 

Standing behind him, trying to peek into the Slytherin common room,  was a very nervous Charlie Weasley. Dressed in stylish blue dress robes, which both matched Draco's dress robes beautifully and fit his very muscular physique perfectly. 

 

Draco hurried up the steps with grace and huge aplomb. Harry was highly impressed by the way he managed to move so fast yet seemed so very calm and together. Severus allowed Charlie to step inside the Common Room in order to meet his date. Charlie, who had been keen to see the Slytherin common room, completely forgot to look at it when he saw Draco approaching him.

 

The older man offered his arm, and Draco slipped his hand in the crook of his elbow, and they stepped back through the portrait to make their way to the Ball. Severus, who had been watching the pair as intently as the rest of the House, snapped back to attention once they had disappeared. Informing the room as a whole that they had less than twenty minutes to make their way to the Great Hall, he then called for Harry and Daphne to follow him. 

 

While the other students milled around in the Entrance Hall, waiting for the doors to open. Many students were waiting nervously for their dates from other houses to find them. Harry and Daphne waited in the antechamber that Severus had led them to, with the other Champions. Fleur was with Rodger Davies, a seventh-year Ravenclaw; Cedric was with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, and Viktor was with Hermione, who Harry noted looked stunning in her pink robes. 

 

Once the rest of the student body was in the Great Hall and seated, Professor McGonagall appeared in the antechamber. She gave the group an approving nod, then directed them to line up at the door and wait for them to be announced. 

 

Harry held out his arm to Daphne, and the two took their place behind Viktor and Hermione. A loud gong rang out, and the doors opened. Harry heard Ludo Bagman announcing Mr Cedric Diggoary and his partner, Miss Cho Chang. 

 

Butterflies flooded Harry’s stomach, and suddenly he wished he could have another go at collecting his golden egg from under the Hungarian Horntail, instead of this, being paraded around and forced to dance. Daphne placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and squeezed his arm. He turned and met her calm, cool gaze. 

 

“Breathe, Harry,” she murmured. “You’ll be fine,” she assured him. 

 

Harry breathed and felt oddly reassured until Bagman announced, “...and last but by no means the least, our youngest Champion, Mr Harry Potter and his partner, Miss Daphne Greengrass.” 

 

Harry took a deep breath and stepped into the Hall with Daphne moving easily beside him, almost as if she was glued to his side.  They made their way to the head table as everyone in the room clapped. 

*Lilacs - first emotion of love.

 

Source - https://www.flowersbytina.com.au/shoppingcart/pages/flower-meanings-chart.html

 

Chapter 13: The Yule Ball and after...

Summary:

Christmas Day arrives, and Harry enjoys his first holiday at Hogwarts. The ball is not quite as traumatic as Harry had been dreading, and then there's what happens after the ball...

Notes:

Hello,

I am back, I am finally getting into the swing of the story, and so far the plan is working (touch wood).
I have just started a second job, and I am still studying, so I will complete the updates when I can.

As always, thanks for reading 🤗

Love Maeve ✨💚✨

 The Yule Ball and after…

The Great Hall had undergone a complete transformation in the brief time since Harry had last been there. The usual house tables had been replaced with large round tables. The floor had been polished to a shine, and there was a long purple carpet, rolled out from the door to the head table. Harry’s feet sank into the soft pile as he stepped through the doors, ready to walk up to the head table, but he stopped when the people seated at the tables began to applaud. Daphne gently squeezed his arm, urging him on, and he drew a deep breath and began walking towards the head table and the last two empty seats. When he got about halfway to the front, he began to look around him, searching for familiar faces. 

 

Draco and Charlie were sitting together on a table with Blaise and Theo, Pansy and Lucien Bole, Fred Weasley and Angelina Johnson, George Weasley and Katie Bell, as well as Ron Weasley, who was for some reason, Harry could not fathom wearing maroon dress robes, which were covered in lace and frills, and clashed terribly with his hair. He was sitting next to a rather disgruntled-looking Parvati Patil. 

 

Feeling decidedly relieved that he was not sitting on that table. Harry led Daphne to the last two empty seats at the head table, between Severus and Professor Flitwick. Harry held out the chair next to the charms professor for Daphne and waited as she sat down before he took the seat next to his head of House with a relieved smile. He had made it to the table without incident - so far so good. 

 

The view from the head table was quite different to Harry’s usual view of the Great Hall. There were four huge Christmas trees, one in each corner of the room, decorated with gold and silver, and lit by candles which floated nearby. The long purple carpet rolled itself up and vanished after Harry and Daphne had taken their seats, leaving the dark shiny floor unobstructed, and matching perfectly with the clear night sky and bright twinkling stars revealed by the enchanted ceiling. 

 

Once everyone was seated, Albus Dumbledore stood up and spread his arms wide, clearly in his element.  The Headmaster welcomed everyone to the Yule Ball before declaring it to be his great honour to introduce the Minister for Games and Sport. Ludo Bagman stood up, dressed in robes which would have done Lockheart proud, and he grinned at the attendees, as if he were entirely responsible for the Ball. His boyish face shone with excitement as he talked about sport and how it could cross borders and lead to stronger ties with international magical communities. He then talked at great length, about his own career as Beater with the Winbourne Wasps, as well as for the national English team.

 

Finally, he turned to look at the champions, charging them with leading the way in making alliances with foreign wizards and witches before bidding them all to have a great night. The Minister for Magic stood and officially welcomed the visiting schools, and to thank Hogwarts for hosting the event and then proceeded to blunder on about the importance of international relations in troubled times, before retaking his seat.

Then the Headmaster was back on his feet. He waved his hand, causing three large banners to fall from the ceiling in the same way the house banners did at the end of the year. Only now, instead of the four Hogwarts houses, they were the school banners for Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. 

 

He thanked his staff for all their hard work with decorating the Great Hall and organising the event, and he also thanked the house elves for all their hard work preparing the food, which appeared in the middle of the tables as he spoke; he concluded by inviting everyone to enjoy their meal. Harry noticed that Mr Crouch did not speak to anyone, and he thought the man was looking decidedly unwell. 

 

The food was brilliant; the house elves had outdone themselves. The first course consisted of plates of canapés placed along the table. There were little pastry triangles filled with fetta and spinach, fried balls which turned out to be made of rice, cheese, garlic and onion and triangles of toast topped with smoked salmon and creamed cheese. They were much fancier than Aunt Petunia’s pigs in blankets, prawn cocktail vol-au-vents, and pickled onions on toothpicks. 

 

The main course was a traditional English roast; the turkey was perfectly seasoned and succulent, the vegetables were roasted and included parsnips, carrots, brussels sprouts and roast potatoes, and there were gravy boats and bowls with cranberry sauce dotted along the table. 

 

Harry ate with obvious delight, even despite having lived with the Malfoys for almost four years, he was still always delighted when so much good food just appeared in front of him. He piled his plate with meat and roast vegetables. Harry had learned not to be fussy when it came to food, and as a result, he would eat just about anything, including brussel sprouts. These brussel sprouts, however, were particularly delicious, and he made a mental note to ask Dobby how they had been cooked.

 

Severus was very pleased to see Harry eating well. Severus had his own childhood hunger to assuage it was one of the many unfortunate things they had in common. It went unspoken between them that their home, when they came to make one, would be a home of plenty where food was concerned. 

 

Dessert was traditional Christmas pudding served with brandy custard and cream, along with little lemon tarts and brandy snaps. Harry, who was already fairly full, found he had plenty of room for pudding. Eventually, the sound of cutlery scraping on plates died down, and people sat back in their chairs. Some took an extra serve of pudding, while others indulged in another lemon tart as they discussed how much they had eaten.  The atmosphere in the room was easy and relaxed as people enjoyed the after-dinner conversation. 

 

Finally, Dumbledore rose again and clapped his hands; immediately, the remains of the meal were cleared away. The headmaster called for everyone to stand, and he waved his hand, moving the tables back towards the walls to create a space for dancing. Then Ludo Bagman stood and announced that the champions and their partners would take to the dance floor. A small round podium appeared off to the left, and a quartet of charmed, string instruments began to play. Harry and the other three champions stood up and took their partners' hands and made their way down to the dance floor. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Harry faced Daphne and took her hand before placing his other hand on her waist. The girl smiled at him as she rested her hand on his shoulder, and they waited for the music to begin. It was a slow waltz, and Harry took his first step with some trepidation, but Daphne moved with him easily, and he soon found his rhythm. 

 

It was definitely not as bad as it could have been in the end. Harry managed to manoeuvre them around the dance floor without standing on Daphne’s feet or on her dress. The four champions danced the first waltz, and then, as the second, slightly faster dance began, the teachers and other students began to join them. By the time the dance floor was filled with other couples, Harry was quite enjoying himself, and he and Daphne danced the first set of three dances before going to find the other Sytherins. 

 

They found Blaise and Theo drinking punch at one of the tables, and they sat to watch as Charlie Weasley whirled Draco around the floor. Hermione and Viktor also made a striking couple; Harry’s eyes searched the room for his betrothed, and he tried to ignore the squishy feeling in his stomach as he caught sight of Severus dancing with Essie. 

 

Desperate for a distraction, Harry scanned the teachers' table, and his eye was drawn immediately to Professor Moody. The DADA teacher was sitting between Professor McGonagal and Professor Flitwick, and he looked furious. His scarred face was twisted in rage, and he had a white knuckle grip on a silver hip flask. His magical eye was fixed on someone or something, but Harry could not follow the man’s line of sight to see who had attracted such ire from the man. 

 

Nudging Daphne, he pointed out Moody. The girl drew a sharp breath at the expression. “Goodness, I am glad he isn't looking at me like that; he is terrifying,” she said. Harry had to agree. Curious to know who Moody was glaring at, Harry offered to get a drink for them, and he walked towards the refreshment table. He collected two cups of punch and looked up at Moody again, this time he could see that Moody was staring at the table opposite them, where Ludo Bagman sat in deep conversation with Barty Crouch. Harry noted Mr Crouch did not look any better than he had before dinner, however he seemed unaware of 
Moody’s stare. 

 

Igor Karaoff was also seated at the table, along with Headmaster and Madam Maxime. While Harry watched, Hagrid approached the Beauxbatons Headmistress and asked her to dance. She accepted, and the two made their way to the dance floor, where they proceeded to waltz around the dance floor; the other couples gave them a wide berth. Harry could not help being impressed at the grace with which the couple moved. 

 

Dancing with Daphne was not a hardship, nor was it unpleasant, and Harry had a nice time. It was calm and ordered, and though Harry only danced with Daphne, he noted that other students switched partners once the first set was finished. Harry was feeling quite pleased with himself; he had not once stood on Daphne’s toes, and her dress was equally unscathed. 

 

At nine o'clock, the string quartet stopped playing and was banished by Professor Flitwick, and a group of musicians stepped up onto the podium and began unpacking instruments. Excited whispering broke out among the students as they watched the band set up. Then, finally, the singer stepped up to the microphone and announced that they were the Weird Sisters, and the students went crazy. The lights went down and coloured lights began to flash as the students gathered around to dance to the upbeat music. 

 

Daphne and Harry joined the rest of the Slytherins on the dance floor. Harry was a bit out of his depth, having never been to any kind of concert or disco in his life, but he soon realised there were no rules for this kind of dancing. Harry was soon completely absorbed in the beat of the music and dancing with his friends, and he had so much fun he forgot all about Moody. 

 

Draco and Charlie were dancing closer than most other couples. Draco had his arms around Charlie’s neck, and their chest were practically pressed together, and they moved as one body. Harry turned Daphne around so he had his back to the couple. He was happy for Draco and hoped his parents would be too, but for now, he did not want to think about his brother and what he might be doing with Charlie Weasley, and he really did not need to see the new couple dancing like that. 

 

After dancing to several songs, Harry and Daphne made their way back to their table, and Harry went in search of more drinks. On the way, he saw Severus standing with Igor Kararoff. The two men appeared to be disagreeing. Harry tried to move towards them, but before he could get close enough to hear, they left the Great Hall, and by the time Harry got to the door, they had vanished.

 

Harry returned to the table where Daphne was waiting and tried to put the scene out of his mind. The night continued, and he was soon drawn back into the festive feeling in the room. The students danced until Dumbledore got up and thanked the band for their music, and dismissed the students, advising them to say their goodnights and make their way back to the dormitories in an orderly fashion. 

 

Daphne was exhausted, and Harry put his arm around her to guide her back to the dungeons. It was not until they were back in the common room that Harry realised that Draco had disappeared. He assumed his brother had gone somewhere with Charlie, and he hoped his brother would find his way back to the dorm without getting into trouble and not do anything unwise. 

 

Once Daphne was in the common room and on her way to bed with the other girls, Harry went up to his dorm and took out his cloak. He drew his curtains around his bed, hoping the others would think he was asleep, and he snuck out of the common room and made his way to Seveus’ quarters. He let himself in and called Dobby to bring him some hot chocolate. 

 

Harry had just settled on the sofa with his mug of chocolate when he heard raised voices coming from Severus’ office. As the door swung open, Harry pulled the cloak over his head and crept into the corner, forgetting about his hot chocolate sitting on the table beside the sofa. 

 

Severus stalked into his room, his robes billowing furiously. “Igor, I have told you it is nothing. If you are so worried, however, you may flee. I am staying at Hogwarts.”

 

“You surely don't believe that nonsense about Dumbledore being the only one the dark Lord fears, do you? Hogwarts is no safer than anywhere else!” Kararoff said with a sneer. 

 

“I have made my choice, Igor. I will stay here and face what comes,” Severus repeated. 

 

“Then you will die. I will be leaving at the end of the Tournament. You have until then to come to your senses, Severus. After that, my offer will be null and void,” Igor said icily. 

 

Severus eyed the mug of hot chocolate on the table and turned back to the man who was still glaring at him. “As I have said, Igor, I have made my choice. I really can't imagine why you would be offering me sanctuary; you couldn't give my name to the Ministry fast enough at the end of the war.”

“I have apologised for my error in naming you as a Death Eater. The fact is, Severus, we both need allies. If he comes back, we will need all the allies we can muster,” Kararoff insisted. 

 

“I have allies, Igor, and I told you that if you wish to defect, speak to Albus. Otherwise, I wish you well,” Severus replied icily. 

 

The other man gave Severus an incredulous look and huffed. Before turning on his heel and marching out of the room.

 

Once the door had closed behind him, Seveus turned his attention to the room. “Harry?” he said softly, 

 

Harry dropped the cloak and moved towards Severus with his arms out. Severus caught his young betrothed in a hug, and Harry buried his face in Severus's chest. 

 

“Hello, love,” Severus said softly into Harry’s hair. 

 

“Hi,” Harry replied into Severus' chest. He lifted his head and smiled, “You wore my flower,” he said, reaching up to touch the lilac on Severus's lapel.

 

“I did, thank you for leaving it for me. It was a lovely surprise to come back and find it here,” he said softly. 

 

Harry moved back and rested his head against Severus's chest. “You do know the meaning of the lilac, don't you?” Severus asked, as he stroked Harry’s hair. 

 

“Yeah, Neville told me. Well, he gave me a book, actually, and…I…err picked them while Neville was busy making a bouquet for Daphne,” Harry confessed. 

 

Severus hummed and waited for Harry to draw back from their embrace before he led the younger man back to the sofa to reclaim his drink. “Is everything alright?” he asked once they were settled on the sofa. 

 

“Yeah,” Harry said into his cup. 

 

“Harry?” Severus asked softly. 

 

“It’s nothing, I just wish I could have danced with you. I saw you and Essie, and I wished it were me dancing with you, that’s all,” he confessed. 

 

“Well, if that is all, then why don't you finish that chocolate, and we will see what we can do?” Severus said with a smile. 

 

Curious, Harry did as instructed while Severus poured a glass of whatever he kept in his decanter. When they were both finished with their drinks, Severus stood up and waved his hand, causing the lights to dim and music to play from somewhere. “May I have this dance?” Severus asked, bowing low to Harry. 

 

Harry accepted the outstretched hand and allowed Seveus to draw him to his feet. They were so close, they were they were almost touching, and Severus put his arm around Harry’s waist. They were not quite pressed together the way Charlie and Draco had been, but Harry could feel the heat of Severus' body, and the muscles in his arms as he held Harry tight. 

 

They moved slowly to the music, Severus leading them in a small circle on the rug in front of his fireplace. It was tender and intimate. Harry inched a little closer and rested his head against the potion master's strong chest. There was nothing at all untoward in their dancing, but Harry felt warmth flood his body, and he knew that this was where he wanted to be for the rest of his life. 

 

As they danced, Harry thought about his mother, Lily. It was because of her that he was betrothed to Severus. He hoped that wherever she was now, she knew how happy he was with her choice, and that she had done the right thing for her son. 

Draco wished he had asked Harry for the invisibility cloak as he made his way back from Charlie’s first-floor guest room. They had snuck away from the Ball as soon as Professor Snape had disappeared with Headmaster Kararoff. Draco was less concerned about the other teachers; sure, they might take points or give him detention, but they would not feel compelled to report to his father, the way Severus might.

 

Charlie had been given a guest suite on the first floor, and Draco had been sneaking in there regularly. Charlie would not let him stay overnight, and he was keeping them firmly on the couch, but Draco was more than happy with things as they were. 

 

They had spent two blissful hours wrapped in each other's arms, kissing and talking. Charlie told him tales of life at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. He talked about the birth of baby dragons and of dealing with protective nesting mothers who were all competing for territory. 

 

Draco told Charlie about Quidditch and what it was like to suddenly have a brother after eleven years of being an only child. It had led to a whispered conversation in which Draco confessed a desire to have at least two children, so his heir would not be as lonely as he had been growing up.

 

The confession had been whispered into Charlie’s neck; Draco had not been brave enough to say it while looking at the older man. Charlie had moved so gently and carefully as he took Draco’s face in his huge hands and tilted it so Draco was looking into his lover's eyes. Charlie had kissed him so softly, and then he had promised that Draco would have everything he wanted if it was within Charlie's power to provide.

 

Draco melted into the strong arms surrounding him when he heard that promise. His mother had often told him the same thing, but she was his mother, and since Harry had joined their family, she had provided the same love and attention to him. While Draco did not begrudge Harry, the love his mother gave them both, this, here with Charlie, this was just for him.

 

Charlie was unlike anyone Draco had ever known; he was so cheerful and relaxed, even though he was a pureblood, he had none of the usual pureblood hangups. He was not bound by the same rules as Draco was; there was no pressure on Charlie to marry the right girl and produce a pureblood child to ensure the continuation of the family line. Charlie was free to choose his partner himself, but Draco knew that convincing his parents to let him marry Charlie was going to be tough. 

 

His father would not be happy that he had chosen a Weasley for a start,  but he would be even less happy with Charlie being a man. So Draco had been researching, and he had discovered that there were contingencies in place for purebloods Lords who were not able to produce a child with their wives. Surrogacy was an acceptable solution, as was blood adoption, and as far as he could see, the same rules would apply to him and Charlie. Harry was betrothed to Severus, by a family contract for goodness' sake, so there had to be an acceptable way for two men to produce an heir for their family lines.

 

Harry often talked about wanting to protect Muggleborn children who were abused by their Muggle parents or caregivers. Draco was sure adoption could be more widely available if Harry were able to put his ideas into practice. It was why Draco had already decided that when he took his father's place in the Wizegamot, he would support Harry's proposals.

 

One way or another, things would work out; they had to, Draco knew he had no choice but to fight for Charlie. The very first time he had seen Charlie, when he was 11 years old, he had been struck dumb by the man. Draco had never seen a man like him. Charlie was fit, and he had red hair and freckles. It was a combination Draco had never thought he could consider attractive, and yet, somehow, Charlie was the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

 

As the Heir to the Malfoy lordship, Draco had been raised knowing that he would be expected to marry a girl chosen for him by his father and sire a child. It was an expectation he had accepted even when he began to realise he preferred the male form; Women were too soft and squishy. Draco wanted to be held tight against a strong, hard chest. 

 

At fourteen, Draco was no stranger to kissing; it was encouraged for young Slytherins to mix while at school. Boys and girls were taught contraceptive charms as soon as puberty hit. Just this summer, Lucius had taken Draco and Harry aside and told them about sex and intimacy and what was acceptable at school. 

 

Draco had expected that he would lose his virginity at school, and when he thought about sex, which was something which happened more often these days, it was always sex with a man. Though he knew he would be expected to marry a girl, the idea of a naked girl in his bed left him cold. When he was in Charlie’s arms, he felt safer than he ever had. Charlie not only made him feel seen, but safe, protected and loved, and Draco wanted that forever. 

 

Like most of the fourth-year Slytherins, Draco knew that his parents were already considering the marriage option for him. He knew that Pansy and Luicen Bole were already set on each other, and their families had accepted their children's wishes and were in the process of negotiating a contract. Daphne had a contract with Theo’s cousin Stephen,  as did Millicent Bulstrode and Vincent Goyle. It was just a matter of time before his father would want to make an arrangement for him.

 

It was not unheard of for two men to marry in the Wizarding World. It was also common enough for pureblood men to take male lovers once they had married and produced the required heir; Draco could not even contemplate doing that to Charlie. All Draco’s hopes were pinned on the example set by Harry and Severus. They had a family contract put in place by Harry’s mother and grandfather, along with Severus’ grandfather, and after Harry’s fifteenth birthday, Luicus and Severus would negotiate an engagement and marriage contract.

 

Harry and Severus were the last of their lines; it was up to them to produce heirs to ensure their family lines continued. They would be expected to marry sometime between Harry’s seventeenth and eighteenth birthdays, and they would need to include a plan for heirs in their contract; that meant there had to be a way for two men to fulfil that requirement.

 

It was an unspoken rule that Draco would marry a nice girl, chosen by his parents, though Luicus had told him he would take Draco’s opinions into account; he knew that negotiations with other families would begin very soon. Draco did not know what it would take to convince his father to begin these talks with Mr Weasley and Charlie, but somehow, Draco would ensure that it happened. He had a feeling his mother would back him if she realised how much he loved Charlie, and he also hoped he would have Harry and Severus’ support. 

Draco approached the common room door so deeply lost in thought that he did not notice his brother and their Head of House approaching from the other direction. So when someone called his name, he almost panicked, until he saw Severus. 

 

Professor Snape was a formidable teacher, and Draco instantly realised he was likely in trouble, but Severus only gave him a thoughtful look. “It is very late, Mr Malfoy, get to bed quickly now, and come and see me tomorrow morning after breakfast,” he said firmly. 

 

Draco nodded and fled into the common room. Severus raised an eyebrow at Harry, who suddenly looked guilty. “I did mean to tell you, I did, but I just kept getting distracted by dragons and learning to dance and such things.” 

 

Severus hummed, “Do I want to know who Draco is sneaking around with?” he asked. 

 

Harry gave his betrothed a surprised look. “Really, Severus, do you not recall us talking about this?” He asked with a smirk. 

 

Severus did recall, but he had, until now held on to hope that Draco was just playing with the dragon tamer.

 

“Indeed,” he sighed. “I will talk to Draco tomorrow. How prepared do I need to be to hear about this…relationship?” he asked, carefully. 

 

Harry considered the question. “Well…I think they’re fairly serious. I mean, I think Draco might be falling in love.”

 

Severus' eyes widened almost comically before composing himself again. “I see, well, thank you for that information,” he said calmly. “Now, off to bed with you,” he said, internalising his grimace at the news he had just received, and giving his young betrothed the warm smile he deserved. 

 

Harry gave him a blinding smile in return and disappeared through the wall. Severus turned on his heel and walked quickly back to his room, cast extra locking charms on his door and shut down his floo. Before pouring himself a double shot of his best whiskey and collapsing in his favourite chair. 

 

Draco Malfoy was in love with a  Weasley! A Weasely, for Merlin’s sake! Lucius would be furious. The Weasley family were considered blood traitors, and on top of that, Charlie Weasley was a man. Severus knew how seriously Lucius took the continuation of the Malfoy line.

 

Severus took a long sip from his glass as he contemplated a very awkward conversation with his godson and prayed to any deity who might hear him that he would not have to be the one to tell Luicus. 

Chapter 14: The aftermath of the Ball

Summary:

After the ball comes the articles in the Prophet, and a conversation with Sirius.

Notes:

Hello,

It is quite likely that I have forgotten to do several essential things since I have found time to write. However, here we are. I make no promises, but I have actually made some progress on the next chapter, too.

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

As always, thanks for reading,

Love Maeve ✨💚✨

 

 

Sirius Black was bored. He had been in St.Mungos for six months, and although he had come a long way in his recovery, he knew that he still had a long way to go. Six months, however, was a long time for a man who was very prone to boredom even when he was well. Remus visited most days; he had only missed three non-full-moon-related days. Although the last time he had come in, he had been quiet even for Lupin. Today was the third day Remus had not arrived immediately after breakfast, and Sirius was a little worried. Perhaps he was tired of Sirius being unwell; maybe he was just tired of Sirius. 

 

Even worse, Harry had not come to visit.

 

Christmas trees were up in the patient sitting room and around the corridors. So, Sirius knew it was Christmas, and Harry had said he would see him then. Sirius distinctly remembered him saying that, and he had been holding on to that promise. He had not liked leaving Harry at the Malfoys, so near to Snivillus; he did not trust that man not to tell Harry horrible tales about him and James. 

 

Sirius knew that his fears were well-founded; during therapy, he talked a lot about Harry and his hopes for a relationship with the young man. These conversations led to talking about Snape, and he had been forced to admit that he and James had gone too far in their pranking of Severus. He remembered now just what they had done to him, and when the healer had asked Siruis how he would feel if someone did to Harry what he had done to Snape, he had actually felt sick to his stomach. 

 

Remus had been talking to him about Snape, too. Telling him he would need to accept the greasy git as a fixture in Harry’s life or risk being dismissed from his godson’s life. It was all wrong; none of this was supposed to happen. Dumbledore was supposed to ensure everything went according to plan. Sirius snarled at the thought of the Headmaster; the man had betrayed them just like Peter. They had been so sure they could trust him, but Lily had been right; pain twisted in Sirius’s stomach at the realisation that if they had listened to Lily, none of this would have happened. 

 

Lily had tried to convince him and James that Albus Dumbledore did not have their best interests at heart. They had dismissed her, James had dismissed her, saying that she need not worry her pretty head, and sending her off to look after Harry. Lily had done just that; she had cut James out and gone straight to Fleamont and Charlus. 

 

According to Remus, Lily had changed her will and written a letter to Severus. Sirius remembered them all signing the wills. James had not even looked at the documents Lily put in front of him to sign, so he had never known that one of them had been a letter appointing Severus Snape as Harry’s guardian. In the end, however, it had done no good. Sirius knew both James and Lily had written in their wills that Harry was not to go to Petunia Dursley, but that was precisely where Albus had placed baby Harry.

 

Harry should have come to him or Alice Longbottom, but he had been imprisoned and left to rot by Albus Dumbledore. While Alice had been attacked just days after the Potters had been killed, and she was here in St. Mungos with her husband, Frank, trapped in her head after being tortured by his cousin Bella and her husband, Rudolfus Lestrange. Sirius had asked to see Alice and Frank, but his healer had suggested that he should wait until he was fully healed. 

 

When that might be, Sirius did not know, perhaps when he could think about James without despair or about Snape without anger or maybe when he could think about Remus as the man he loved again. He had been in love with Remus; he knew he had, he remembered the feeling, but Peter had ruined it with his lies just before he had betrayed James, and it was all Sirius’s own fault. 

 

“Good morning, Mr Black,” a pleasant Scots voice cut through his morose mood. Sirius lifted his head and saw a cheerful woman with a tea tray. “Black coffee and some chocolate biscuits she told him, would you like the paper today?”

 

Sirius had refused the paper every day so far, but today, well, he had nothing better to do; perhaps it would distract him from his mood. 

 

“I will take one today, thanks, May,” he said, giving the older woman his best mischievous smile. 

 

The woman handed over the paper with a grin, “You’ll get yourself in trouble one of these days, young man,” she told him. 

 

“Me?” he replied with faux shock. “I’ll have you know, I’m trouble every day, me darlin’, with a wolfish smile. 

 

“Och, that’s enough from you, Mr Black. I saw your cousin and your young man on their way up, so you’ll be wanting to put on your best behaviour before they get here,” she admonished him. 

 

“Remus? You saw Remus coming here?” Sirius asked, a genuine smile breaking out on his face.

 

“Aye, lad, they’ll be here in a moment,” she promised with an equally genuine smile, as she put the paper on his tray and left the room, pleased to have cheered up her favourite patient.

 

Sirius stirred sugar into his coffee and unfolded the paper. On the front page was a picture of Harry dancing with a young girl; there was also another couple in the photo. Sirius looked at the picture description line, Triwizard Champions Harry Potter and Viktor Krum, dancing with their dates, Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger, at the Yule Ball. While the headline screamed  -

 

 

Young love in the air at the Yule Ball. 

 

Heir Harry Potter and his date, Heiress Daphne Greengrass, were inseparable at the Yule Ball held at Hogwarts last night. The youngest Triwizard champion was the last to enter the Great Hall; however, he did not disappoint. Dressed impeccably in green dress robes from Twilfit and Tattings, he looked every inch the young heir as he led his delightful date into the Hall to enthusiastic applause. The young couple then took their seats for the official part of the evening, which was followed by a traditional Christmas feast, before taking to the dance floor together. 

 

A knock on his door drew Sirius’s eyes from the paper. He looked up at Remus and Narcissa, who had come bearing Christmas gifts, but before either of them could say Merry Christmas, Sirius waved the paper at them. “Harry is a Triwizard Champion,” he growled. “...and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Harry was flicking through the paper, sitting at the small kitchen table in Severus’ room. He had not felt up to breakfast in the Great Hall. He knew the paper would be full of the Ball’s events, and he didn’t want to read it in full view of the school. So far, though, it was not so bad. He and Daphne had made the front page along with Viktor and Hermione. The article had been a reasonably equal split between Harry and Viktor; Cedric and Fleur were barely mentioned. Still, it could have been worse.

 

Harry turned the page, and on page three, he found a massive photo of Hagrid and Madam Maxium with the headline. 

 

Dumbledore’s Giant Mistake

 

The article discussed Albus’ questionable staff choices, referring to Lockhart, Mad Eye Moody and then Hagrid. It told how Hagrid had been appointed to the position the year before, until a student was attacked, and another teacher was brought in to assist the former gamekeeper. It went on-

 

“However, Professor Grubbly-Plank has not returned this year, and the subject is once again being taught by a man who, by his own admission, is a half-giant. This reporter…” 

 

Harry stared at the paper. He, Draco and Daphne had all dropped the subject this year, so he had been unaware that Hagrid was teaching it again. He looked up at Severus. “Have you read this?” he asked. 

 

“Read what?” the older man asked, putting his coffee down and selecting a piece of toast. 

 

“This article about Hagrid, I didn’t realise he was teaching Care of Magical Creatures this year,” Harry told him. 

 

“Hummm, yes,” Severus replied, but did not elaborate, choosing instead to eat his toast.

 

“Well, he’s been outed as a giant,” Harry said. “Listen to this…” 

 

“Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent.”

 

Harry wrinkled his nose at the mention of Skeeter; he was really beginning to dislike that woman. He continued reading. 

 

“In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed “Blast-Ended Skrewts,” highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creatures is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.”**

 

“Blast ended Skrewts?” Harry asked in alarm. Looking up from the paper, and saw Severus wince and then press his lips together. 

“Yes, I spent several nights brewing burn cream after that class,” he said in the same tone he used for people who blew up their cauldrons.  

 

Harry rolled his eyes and returned to the article.

 

“An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore looks the other way, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being “very frightening.” 

 

“As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not --- as he has always pretended --- a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.”**

 

Harry read out loud, before looking incredulously at Severus. 

 

Severus sighed and put down his second piece of toast. “I am afraid that, given everything else which was happening at the beginning of the year, none of the Heads of House noticed Hagrid’s reappointment,” Severus told him. “By the time we did, it was too late to object, and as no one had advised the board either, the appointment went ahead. I believe they are working to bring back Professor Grubbly-Plank, but with the Tournament and all the extra work involved in that, the staff have not been able to help,” he explained. 

 

“Well, this might just do the trick. Did you know Hagrid was half-giant?” Harry asked. 

 

“I had my suspicions. However, I did not think he would be a half-giant. True giants can reach 25 feet; Madam Maxime is a half-giantess. Creature laws in France are quite different there; there is not the same prejudice against them as exists here,” Severus explained. 

Harry looked back at the photo of Hagrid and wondered just how Rita had come by this knowledge. No reporters had been allowed at the Yule Ball. Dumbledore had expressly forbidden them access to the school other than to observe the Tri-Wizard Task. Somehow, Rita was getting information and photos she should not have, and Harry wanted to know how she was doing it.

 

Putting the paper down, he summoned paper and quill and began making notes. He would keep a close watch on Miss Skeeter’s articles, and then he would be asking Fudge some questions about the security of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

 

In the wake of the newspaper article, Hagrid disappeared from the Staff table and did not return, so when the holidays ended and the new term began, Professor Grubbly-Plank reappeared at the table. Harry had dropped Care of Magical Creatures after the events of the previous year, and since he only needed two elective subjects, he did not need to pick up a new one. This change gave him some extra study time in his timetable, which had been a very good thing given the events of the year.

 

Daphne had also dropped the subject, but that did not stop her from being furious about Hagrid’s treatment in the Prophet. She had teamed up with Hermione to figure out how Rita had obtained the story, despite being barred from entering the school except for official Tri-Wizard Tasks. 

 

Predictably, the Gryffindores had been quite vocal about Hagrid’s treatment, and Ron Weasley in particular seemed to blame the Slytherins. Harry had considered the possibility of Draco being behind the information leak. Draco had claimed that he had not known that Hagrid was teaching again, and Harry had to admit that his brother might have been completely distracted by Charlie Weasley. There were other possibilities. Terry Boot had been one of the most vocal students the year before, complaining about Hagrid’s teaching, but Harry was unsure if Boot was still in the class or not. The same went for most of the Ravenclaws. Harry mentally added that to his list of things to investigate.  

 

The rest of the holidays flew by, and before he knew it, classes had started up again, and the next task, the Tri-Wizard task, was creeping closer. He would really have to do something about that bloody egg, he mused as he sat at the Slytherin table on the first day back. The table was only sparsely populated this early; Viktor had arrived at the same time as Harry, but left again after eating only one bowl of fruit-laden porridge.  

 

Harry had been unable to sleep, and he had been up for several hours before heading to breakfast. He had just cleared his plate when the owl post arrived and a letter dropped onto his plate, delivered by his mother’s gentle grey owl, Arden. He fed the bird some bacon rinds, and she head butted his hand before she took off again, another letter still attached to her leg. 

 

Harry tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter. Narcissa had seen the paper and, in between telling him what a lovely photo it had been and how grown up he looked. She also said to him that Sirus had seen the paper, and he was concerned about Harry and would like to talk to him. If Harry were amenable to the conversation, then she would arrange a time with Severus to use his floo. Harry glanced up at the staff table and saw that Severus also had a letter, and Arden was perched on the back of his chair. The man looked up towards the Slytherin table and caught Harry’s eye, and looked grim.  

 

Harry put his letter into his divination text. He would reply later when he had a chance to think about the idea of talking to Sirus. Narcissa had been keeping Harry updated about his Godfather’s recovery, and from her reports, he was much better than he had been, but she had cautioned that there was still some way to go. Harry was torn; he had intended to visit his Godfather during the holidays, if he was recovered enough; however,  his status as a Tri-Wizard Champion meant he was unable to leave the castle. Harry also recalled only too well the way Sirius had spoken about Severus before he went to the hospital, and he did not want to deal with that again. Still, he had told Sirius he would see him at Christmas; perhaps a floo call was a good solution. 

 

Harry packed his book back into his school bag and headed off to Divination. He would talk to Severus about it during his free period after lunch. He had just reached the door when a furious Hermione Granger almost knocked him down as she stormed into the Great Hall. The bushy-haired girl was flustered, and she was followed immediately by a whining Ron Weasley. Hermione had only taken a few steps into the Great Hall when she spun around and raised her finger at Ron. “I will only say this one more time. I will not apologise for going Ball with Viktor, I like him, and he likes me, and it is absolutely none of your business, Ronald Weasley!” she said crossly before making her way over to the Gryffindor table. 

 

Ron’s face was bright red, and his expression was halfway between furious and exasperated. Then, he noticed Harry standing there watching and seemed to take some inspiration from him. He marched to the Gryffindor table and started yelling about disloyalty to the Hogwarts Champions while gesturing wildly towards Harry. Deciding he did not want to get drawn into whatever disagreement the two Lions were having, he hurried out of the Hall and started up the many flights of stairs towards the seventh floor.  

 

Divination had been almost bearable this year; they had been studying the stars and learning how to use their constellations and the appearance of the stars to predict future patterns and to determine the success of events. Harry had found that his personal star chart pointed to a successful outcome for his endeavours, which he was choosing to believe meant he would at least survive the Tri-Wizard Tournament. 

 

Professor Terlawney, however, was less sure and had predicted great trials for him, towards the end of the year, resulting in a life-and-death moment which would need to be handled decisively and with split-second timing. Harry was choosing to ignore this and focus on working out his egg clue. Hopefully, it was not a banshee, as Pansy had suggested when he opened it in the Common Room. 

 

Harry was the first person to arrive in the classroom; he had hoped this would be the case. The Tri-Wizard tournament, as he was constantly reminded, had a long history of cheating, and the divination classroom, for all its faults, was conducive to scrying. Harry took a seat at the back of the room and took out his obsidian mirror. Closing his eyes, he focused on the back of his eyelids, looking through them and unfocusing his eyes. He relaxed his body and cleared his mind before opening his eyes and gazing into the mirror. The room was warm and cloying, and Harry felt drowsy as he stared into the depths of his mirror, the surface of which rippled like the black lake, and then he saw himself dive into the blackness of the mirror. A trident and fish tail appeared and then vanished, and a figure, the body of a girl, tied up and underwater. 

 

Harry blinked rapidly. What on earth could that mean? Someone would drown in the lake. He shook his head; that could not be the task. Not even Dumbledore would allow someone to be drowned. He rewrapped his mirror and shoved it back in his bag. He was meeting with Essie tonight; she could shed some light on the task. The door opened, and the rest of the class began to enter the room. Harry sat back and let his mind wander. 

 

Three nights later, Harry was sitting in Severus’s sitting room waiting for a floo call from his Godfather. He had planned out exactly what he was going to say to the man at least seven times, and now that the moment was here, he did not know what he would say. 

 

The fire flared green, and his mother’s face appeared. Harry pushed himself off the sofa and knelt by the fire. Severus was in his study with the door mostly closed. They had decided it was best if Sirius did not see him, but he was close by and could be with Harry almost instantly if Harry called for him.

 

“Hello, sweetheart,” Narcissa said warmly. 

 

“Hi, mum,” Harry replied. 

 

Now, listen carefully, Harry, Sirius will be here in a few moments, but I wanted to check that you are ok with this,” the woman said, in a serious voice. Her keen eyes were observing his reaction closely. 

 

“Yeah, I am fine, I did promise I’d see him,” Harry replied. 

 

“Alright, is Severus nearby?” she asked. 

 

“Yeah, he’s in his study and he can hear everything,” Harry confirmed. This had been one of Severus’ conditions, and Narcissa had not objected.

 

“Good, but remember, if at any time this gets too much, you can say stop, and I will end the call, alright?” she reiterated firmly. 

 

“I know, thanks,” Harry told her. 

 

The woman nodded and vanished from the flames. Moments later, the face of Sirius Black appeared. 

 

“Harry,” he breathed. 

 

“Hi, Sirius,” Harry replied. 

 

“Harry, I am sorry, I didn’t know about the Tournament; they didn’t tell me. Are you ok? I can’t believe Lucius couldn’t get you out of it,” he rambled. 

 

Harry shook his head. “He probably could have. Miss Saari thought we had a good chance, but…I didn’t want everyone to hate me if the Tournament ended up delayed or worse, cancelled. Not that it helped, they still hated me anyway,” Harry told him.

 

Sirius hummed. “Jealousy’s a bitch. He said with a grin. You’re a Potter and Black, there’s no way you won’t win. Whose your advisor?”

 

“Essie and Severus. They have been great; they really helped me with the Dragon and with the Ball. Severus taught me to dance without tripping over my feet,” Harry said with a happy smile.

 

Sirius suppressed a comment about Snape and instead asked about the photo in the paper, “I saw your picture in the paper. You looked very handsome. Whose your girlfriend?”

 

“Daphne Greengrass,” Harry replied. “She’s a good friend.”

 

“Well, the two of you looked good together, your mum and dad would have been proud,” Sirius said warmly.

 

“They are proud, they told me so,” Harry replied.

 

“I meant…” 

 

“...I know who you meant, Harry interupped. “…I am glad you think they would be proud of me, but Narcissa and Lucius are my parents. They are the only ones I have ever known. I don’t remember Lily or James. Severus has tried to help me remember Lily; he has told me a lot about her, and she left journals. I think you’re right, she would have been proud,” Harry conceded. 

 

“James would have been proud, too, Harry. Has…er..Snape told you about him at all?” he entreated a little. 

 

“No,” Harry replied carefully. “He said he was not the best person to tell me about him. I know, though. I know he was a bully!” Sirius looked like he was going to interrupt, so Harry went on quickly, talking over the top of his objection. “No, Severus didn’t tell me; he didn’t have to. I was bullied my whole life, Sirius. I know when someone has been a victim of a bully,” Harry said crossly. “...and I know about your stunt with Lupin.”

 

Sirius swallowed hard. “I know that was wrong. Remus could have killed Snape, but James saved him, Harry. He saved Snape’s life, and well it was lucky he did. I realise now what could have happened to Remus. Look, I was a kid, Harry, and I was stupid. We always got away with stuff…” Sirius trailed off, knowing as he spoke that it was no excuse for his behaviour.

 

“Hummm, I know, and you played right into Dumbledore’s hands, you idiots,” Harry told him crossly. “He got exactly what he wanted. You would have done anything he said, and look what happened. Why didn’t you listen to mum?” Harry demanded. 

 

Sirius had no answer for that; he had been wondering the same thing. “I don’t know. James, your Dad, wanted so much to protect you and Lily; he believed it was his job. He was a husband and father, and he loved you both so much,” Sirius said sadly.

 

Harry could see the sincerity in Sirius’s eyes. “I know,” Harry said after a few moments. “Sev told me that. He told me that he was sure that James loved Lily and me. Look, I know James was your friend, and I know I look like him, but I am not him. I never knew him. Do you understand Siri? The Malfoys are my family, and your family too, and Seveus is a part of that. I want you to understand that, and accept it,” Harry implored his Godfather. “Please, can you do that for me?”

 

“I am trying, Harry. I really am trying, and I will keep trying for you,” Sirius said.

 

“Thank you, Sirius. I appreciate that," Harry said sincerely. “...now do you want to hear about the dragon?” Harry asked with a grin. 

 

“Yeah, I want to hear about the dragon,” Sirius replied, with a matching grin.

Severus pulled the study door closed a little more and went back to his correction with a smile on his face.

** excepts copied from (harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/DUMBLEDORE%27S_GIANT_MISTAKE) 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15: The clue in the egg

Summary:

Harry solves the egg clue with just a little bit of help. While Dumbledore makes assumptions about who Harry will miss most.

Notes:

Hello,

Yes, I am ignoring adult responsibilities in favour of writing about Harry and Severus. Reality will still be there, I am reliably informed, when I get back to it.

I hope you like this chapter; it contains some wording from the Goblet of Fire, and therefore those bits belong to the person who managed, somehow, to create these amazing characters.

The rest are just slight improvements to the original story 🤗 😂 🫣.

As always, thanks for reading.

Love Maeve ✨💚✨

The Golden Egg sat on the end of Harry’s bed, taunting him. When he opened it, a horrendous noise erupted from it, and he had no idea what it could mean. Essie had been researching, and he knew that even though Severus was busy with teaching and brewing for the hospital wing, he was still spending whatever time he had trying to find information to help Harry. 

 

Harry himself was at a complete loss with the egg. Daphne and Hermione had been focused on trying to get Hagrid to leave his hut. Since the article had appeared in The Daily Prophet, the groundskeeper had not once appeared in the Great Hall for meals. Harry had good intentions of going and talking to him, but February 24th looked a lot closer this side of Yule, and Harry was starting to worry about the next task.

 

This meant that Harry was spending every spare minute he had devouring books on dark creatures, trying to find one that screeched like his egg. He was beginning to think that maybe Pansy was right and it was a banshee, and he had no idea how to deal with a. banshee. He was so focused on his thoughts as he made his way to the defence classroom that he did not hear Cedric calling his name.

 

“Harry,” Cedric shouted. Harry stopped and looked back, realising as he did, that it was not the first time the seventh year had called his name. 

 

“Hey, Harry,” Cedric said again as he caught up to him outside the defence classroom. “Listen, I owe you for the heads up about the dragons, and so I wanted to return the favour. You know the egg, does yours make a horrible screeching noise when you open it?” 

 

“Yeah, it does,” Harry told him.

 

“Right well, you should take a bath, with the egg, and you know, mull things over in the warm water. I tell you what, use the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered; the password is pinefresh,” the older boy said with a grin. Then he slapped Harry on the shoulder and walked away. 

 

Harry watched him go with a slightly stunned expression. What the hell was that? He thought. He had told Cedric exactly what was coming, and he returned the favour by telling him to take a bath! Harry shook his head and tried to open the door to the defence classroom. He huffed in annoyance when he found it was locked. He slouched against the wall to wait for Moody and replayed the conversation with Cedric.  

Inside the classroom, Barty Crouch was suffering from a dizzy spell; rolling his eyes was not a good idea, while in Moody’s body, the man’s magical eye was driving him to distraction. He had thought that suggesting to the idiot Hufflepuff that he try listening to the egg's clue in water would lead directly to him sharing the information with Potter. However, he had not expected the boy to be so cryptic when he talked to Harry; he was Hufflepuff, not a Ravenclaw, for Merlin’s sake. The boy's clue might be enough if Potter did as Diggory told him and took the egg to the prefect's bathroom. The mermaid on the stained-glass window in that bathroom would provide a further clue, if Potter paid enough attention. 

 

Still, he would have to keep an eye on the youngest champion; it would not do to have him lose so badly he could not catch up.  Surely, with Severus and the Daniels women helping him, he would work it out. If not, there was always Neville, the Gryffindor, who seemed to be a good friend of young Potter still had the book Barty had given him. Yes, Potter would probably be fine. It was time for him to turn his attention to his father.  

 

Harry mulled over Cedric’s odd advice that night when his dorm mates were sleeping. Taking the egg into the bath with him seemed like a strange idea, just strange enough that it would probably work and since he was not sleeping anyway, he might as well try it. 

 

Gathering his egg, his invisibility cloak and his map, he made his way to the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor. It was close to midnight, and Harry could see Severus in his room, sitting near the fire. Mad Eye Moody was making his way down the second-floor corridor towards the defence classrooms. Probably his rooms were near there. Flitch and Mrs Norris were on the seventh floor, so he had a clear path to the prefect's bathroom. 

 

Harry made his way silently towards the prefect's bathroom and gave the password. The door opened, and the area lit up as he stepped through the door. The prefect's bathroom was incredible, Harry thought it might be worth being a prefect just to be allowed to use this bathroom.

 

The whole room was white marble. In the middle of the room was a huge swimming pool-sized bath, which had numerous taps around it. There were toilet stalls along one wall, and a stained-glass window of a mermaid on a rock on the other wall. 

 

Harry walked towards the bath and turned on one of the taps, and hot, bubbly water which smelled like roses gushed out. Harry turned off the tap and tried another; each tap had a different scent and different types of bubbles. Harry eventually settled on light foamy bubbles which smelled like cedarwood and large floaty bubbles which smelled of lavender; the combined scent was warm and inviting, and it made Harry feel calm and safe, though he was not sure why it should have that effect on him. He pushed the question aside to think about it at another time.

 

The bath took a surprisingly short time to fill, considering the size of the tub. Harry waited until the pool was almost full before he took a large, fluffy towel from the top of a pile near the door and removed his clothes. The water was exactly the right temperature, and Harry floated luxuriously in the bubbles for a while before swimming a couple of lazy laps. 

 

He was enjoying himself so much that he almost forgot about the egg, which he had left at the edge of the tub with his clothes. Harry completed his laps and then, with mild regret, returned his focus to the egg. He picked it up and opened it; it screamed the same as it had in the common room, only in the bathroom, the echo made it so much louder, the sudden noise startled him, and he dropped the egg into the water. Harry panicked for just a moment, and then he noticed that as the egg sank, the sound changed; the screaming sounded more like singing. Harry ducked his head under the water, and suddenly he was surrounded by beautiful singing. 

 

Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long, you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took.

But past an hour, the prospect's black

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back* 

(Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire)

 

Harry couldn’t hold his breath long enough to hear the whole song, so it took several attempts; however, after about half an hour in the water, Harry had the whole song memorised, and he collected his egg and climbed out of the pool. 

 

Memorising the song was one thing, but understanding it was something else. Harry was not good with word puzzles. His teacher in grade five had loved them and she had set the class a challenge every day, but Harry had never got the hang of them. He decided to head back to the dorm quickly, so he could write the song down before he forgot it.

Wrapping himself in the huge towel, he contemplated how to empty the pool. There had not been a plug, at least Harry hadn’t noticed one, but he might have just missed it. If there were a plug, would it be at the end or in the middle of the pool?  Harry was about to take the towel off and get back into the bath to look for the plug when a vaguely familiar female voice echoed through the bathroom.  Harry’s hand automatically clutched the towel and spun around to see who was there.

 

At first, he couldn't see anyone, but then a very familiar giggle echoed, and the ghost of a dark-haired girl floated down from the ceiling, “Murtle!” Harry snapped. “How long have you been there?” 

 

“Long enough,” the girl replied with a smirk. “Don't worry, I closed my eyes when you took your clothes off,” she said. 

 

Harry glared. “Do you do this often? Spying on the prefects in the bath?” he demanded. 

 

“You are not a prefect, and besides, it gets dreadfully boring just haunting the girls' bathroom. No one ever comes in. Not even you, you used to visit me,” she said accusingly, before continuing. “You did very well with that egg. You figured it out much quicker than Cedric or Viktor. They were in here for ho-urs,” she sang with a huge smile. 

 

“You watched them?” Harry yelled, horrified at the thought of the ghost spying on his friends in the bath. 

 

“Of course, I just told you I was bored,” Myrtle sulked. “I didn’t talk to them, though,” she told him. “Only you.”

 

Harry huffed. “I should report you,” he muttered. 

 

Myrtle laughed. “Report me, who to? She asked. “Dumbldore? I doubt he’d do anything about it, I mean, what can he do, give me detention?” the ghost chortled merrily.

 

Harry gathered his clothes and stalked into a cubicle. “Don't even think about following me,” he said crossly or I will ask Severus to find a way to exorcise you.”

 

Myrtle huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You wouldn’t,” she said with a pout. 

 

“Try me,” Harry retorted.

 

Myrtle glared, Harry glared back, and finally the ghost flew off up through the ceiling, wailing as she went. Harry changed quickly and made his way back to the dormitory. He was so upset that he forgot about emptying the bath, he also forgot to check the map, and he ran straight into Filch and Mrs Norris.

 

“Well, well, what do we have here?” the caretaker cackled. “Someone’s invisible. Are you a ghost? Or are you a nasty little student out of bed?” he asked with a mean grin, circling Harry as if he could see him.

 

Mrs Norris sneezed, then hissed, and moved closer towards Harry, her nose twitching; no doubt she could smell the soap bubbles. Harry stood still, hoping for a chance to sneak away. As Filch started to make grabby arms in the thin air, Harry started to edge away, moving slowly away toward the stairs, then behind him, he heard the odd, uneven thump click of Mad Eye Moody walking in his false leg. 

 

Filch must have heard it too because he looked up as the professor rounded the corner. “Pr’fesser,” he said, his voice suddenly like honey.  “Just the person. There’s someone invisible here,” the old man said, waving his arms around to indicate the area near the prefect's bathroom. “Sneaking, they are.”

 

Moody’s crazy eye rolled in its socket, and Harry felt its gaze on him. A faint shock registered on the teacher's face for just a moment when he saw Harry. Harry’s heart sank knowing he had been sprung, but Moody surprised him. “It’s nothing, Argus, just Peeves' little joke,” he growled. “I’ll take care of it. You might want to check out the mess in the girls' bathroom on the second floor. Something’s upset Myrtle,” Moody said grimly.

Filch looked like he didn't quite believe what Moody said, but he clearly did not want to argue with the teacher. Looking like a child denied a biscuit before supper, he called his cat and stomped away towards the stairs, which would take him down to the second floor. When the caretaker was out of hearing range, Moody looked back at Harry. “Lovely evening for a stroll, Mr Potter,” he observed. “Taking that egg for a walk, are we?” he asked. 

 

“Errr, yes, sir,” Harry said without removing his cloak. “I thought the night air might help make things clearer.” 

 

“Hummm, and did it?” the teacher inquired with a raised eyebrow. 

 

“Yes,” Harry replied. “It helped a lot.”

 

“Good, well then you best be getting back to your dorm quickly, and don’t let Mr Filch catch you again,” he told Harry before heading off in the opposite direction to the stairs. 

 

Harry let out a breath as the teacher moved away. Tomorrow, he would tell Essie what he learned, and they could start trying to work out the message in the song. This time, he took the map out of his pocket and checked it before walking off. 

 

He scanned the map to see who was close by. Severus was in the dungeon corridor, the headmaster was in his office, Filtch had made it to the second-floor bathroom and Moody…Harry searched the map, but Moody had vanished. Wondering where the teacher could have gone that was not on the map, Harry checked one more time. He did not find Moody, but he did see something else, which confused him. Barty Crouch Jr was in the castle and headed to the Defence Classroom.

 

Harry stared at the dot on the map. The Mauraders Map did not lie. Who was Barty Crouch Jr? He supposed it could be Mr Crouch,  but why would he be here now, and why was he going to the Defence classroom?  It was odd to think of that old man as a Jr, but maybe his father had been Barty Crouch, too. Harry had more questions than answers. He considered going straight to Severus and showing him the map, but he knew the headmaster was keeping his betrothed busy with brewing and many other tasks.

 

It was strange that Dumbldore would suddenly have so many tasks for Severus; it was almost as if he did not want Severus to have time to help Harry with the upcoming task. Tucking his egg under his arm, he headed off toward the dungeon, considering what he would say to Severus in the morning. He imagined the first thing to explain would be what he was doing out of bed. Harry grimaced as he approached the entrance to the Slytherin common room. 

 

“Nice night for a walk,” said a warm baritone voice which Harry knew well. 

 

Harry stopped. He was unsure what had given him away; he was under the cloak. “I don’t need to see you to know you are there, Mr Potter. I can feel your magic from my office,” the teacher said dryly. 

 

Harry pulled the cloak off his head. “I can explain,” he said contritely. 

 

Severus raised his eyebrow. I have no doubt, my rooms now,” he said firmly. 

 

Harry sighed and followed his teacher. He glanced at the map as he walked; at least he could show Severus Mr Crouch now. He glanced back at the map, but Barty Crouch was gone. 

The next day, Harry spent the morning in the common room listening to Daphne talk about Hagrid and Rita Skeeter. Harry had offered to ask Miss Saari to look into the woman, but Daphne informed him she had already contacted her father, and he was handling it.

 

The insinuation in the newspaper that she and Harry were a couple had upset the family of her betrothed. Stephen had explained the situation to his parents, and although they understood the reason for Harry and Daphne pairing up, and they accepted that Harry was not a threat the Daphne’s virtue. They were not happy that she had been pictured on the front page of the paper with him.   

 

Harry, who had not realised the potential backlash Daphne would face, was not happy either. So when Daphne assured him that her father had already instructed the family lawyer, Harry decided to ask Luicus to do the same thing on his behalf. If nothing else, it would add weight to Daphne’s case. 

 

Daphne told him she was not sure that they could do anything about the article exposing Hagrid, unless Rita had broken the law when she got the story. However, publishing a photo of an heiress without the permission of her parents was not allowed. “Hermione is convinced the woman is doing something illegal to get her stories.  I don't know what it is yet, but she is definitely not supposed to be on the school grounds. Father has made a complaint to the ministry about lax security.”

 

Harry hummed, “Good, I hope they charge her,” he snapped viciously. 

 

Daphne looked at Harry in surprise, “Did you get into trouble too?” she asked in an undertone. 

 

Harry shook his head, “No, it was not a shock for…my betrothed. In fact, it was not really unexpected, I should have thought to warn you, though, I am sorry; before this bloody tournament, the Prophet were banned from printing photographs of me. Now I am Champion; however, they can apparently do as they like.” 

 

“No, they can’t,” the girl said crossly. “The Yule Ball was supposed to be off limits to journalists. She should not have been here,” Daphne stated firmly. 

 

“So we need to figure out if she was actually here disguised somehow, or if someone gave her the story,” Harry said thoughtfully. 

 

“Yes, that is what we need to work out,” Daphne said with a nod. “Harry, this means that you and I will need to…step back a bit from each other,” the girl said sadly. 

 

Harry nodded. “I figured, but we can still be friends, right?” 

 

“Of course, nothing needs to change here in the common room. We just need to be more aware in public,” she told him. “I am still here if you need to talk.”

 

Harry smiled, “Thank you, I am here for you too. If I can help in any way, I can write letters to Stephen and his parents if you like,” he said softly.

 

Daphne smiled and nodded her head, “Thank you, I believe your dad is handling it, but I will let you know. Now tell me about the egg. Did you figure out the clue?”

Severus made his way to the Headmaster's office. Harry’s story about Barty Crouch had him concerned. Harry had not been aware that Bartemius Crouch had a son, a son called Barty Jr. Severus was worried because the Maurders Map didn’t lie, and as much as he hated the Maurders, he had to give it to them; the map was an incredible feat of magic. However, this knowledge presented him with a conundrum, namely that Barty Crouch Jr had reportedly died in Azkaban eight months ago.

 

Stepping off the stairs at the headmaster's office door, Severus raised his hand to knock; however, before he could, the door was wrenched open by Moody. “Come in, Snape, you’re just in time,” the old auror growled. 

“Severus,” Albus welcomed warmly. “Just the man. We need you to help us with a little kidnapping, nothing too serious. We just need Miss Greengrass for the next task. Harry will need to retrieve her from…”

 

“No, I am afraid that will be impossible,” Severus said instantly. 

 

“Now, Severus, she will be in no danger, but the clue the champions were given stated that the thing they will miss most has been taken, and I assumed that would be Miss Greengrass, in Harry’s case; they did make a fine pair at the Yule Ball,” the old man said with a smile.

 

“No, Albus, I am afraid I cannot allow you to make such a ridiculous public spectacle of my students in this case. Miss Greengrass is already in trouble with her family over the photo on the front page. There is a betrothal contract in place for her, and the family of her betrothed are demanding an explanation from her father. Lord  Greengrass is furious and is currently threatening to sue the Ministry for failing to protect his daughter from damaging publicity while at school. Miss Greengrass is an heiress, Albus,”  Severus told him. 

 

Dumbledore looked pained. “Well then, who would you suggest might be the person Harry would miss most?” he asked with a grimace. 

 

“Draco,” Severus said without hesitation. He knew it was not Draco that Harry would miss most, and as delightful as it would be to see Dumbledore's face if he were to announce that it was, in fact, Severus himself who Harry would miss most, now was not the time.

 

Dumbledore stroked his beard, unaware how fortunate he was that Severus had given him the answer he had expected, even if he had not wanted it. “I worry that Lord Malfoy might take issue,” the old man mused. 

 

“Why would he? Where will Draco be?” Severus asked. He and Harry had not discussed the egg the previous night; Severus had been too preoccupied by the thought of Barty Crouch Jr running around the school unnoticed. 

 

“The clue is in mermish because it tells the champions that the merfolk have taken something they’ll sorely miss; in this case, it will be a person. The hostages will be kept in the merpeoples village…”

 

“IN THE LAKE! You are going to put people in the lake? Underwater? Are you mad?” Severus demanded. 

 

The headmaster looked grim. “I am somewhat disappointed that you would think I would allow anyone to be at risk of drowning, Severus. The hostages will be in an enchanted sleep with a bubble head charm cast…” 

 

“Those charms only last for a few hours. What if the champion, supposed to be rescuing them, gets attacked by Grindelows? Or the giant squid?” Severus went on. 

 

It was clear that Albus was annoyed now, “I have personally spoken to the Chief Merman and he has assured me that the safety of both the hostages and the champions will be guaranteed,” he said in a tight voice. “However, I worry that Lord Malfoy will be upset if both Harry and Draco are in the lake, so if there is anyone else...”

 

Severus glared at the Headmaster. “There is no one else. I will speak to Luicus and let you know. He will want to be here, Albus,” Severus warned. 

 

“Yes, of course,” Albus sighed as Severus swept dramatically out of the room. The very image of a put-upon man steeling his last nerve for a conversation he knew would go poorly.

 

In reality, he was very close to laughter; it was very fortunate, therefore, that he was a highly skilled spy, or someone might have noticed the amusement in his dark eyes as he imagined Essie and Narcissa sitting in the staff observation stand close by the headmaster, while Harry retrieved Draco from the Lake.

Harry banged on Essie’s door. He had been to Severus' office and his quarters, but he had not been able to find the man, and he was beginning to panic. Daphne had helped him decipher the clue he got from the egg, and now he was terrified that Severus had been taken by the merfolk. How on earth was he going to get him back before he drowned? Harry could barely swim down to the bottom of the pool-sized bath in the prefects' bathroom.

 

The door opened, and Harry rushed in, pushing past Essie, his eyes wild. The woman frowned at the sight of the young man, and she immediately put the kettle on. Harry was still standing in the middle of her living room, looking lost, when she returned with a tea tray. 

 

She had just got him to sit down when Severus arrived. Essie called for him to come in as she poured the tea. She was completely unprepared for Harry's reaction when he saw Severus. The young man drew a huge breath and let out a sob before launching himself off the couch and into the older man's arms. 

 

“I thought they had you…I couldn’t find you…I  thought they took you…and how am I supposed to get you out of the lake? I can't swim that far down. What if I drown before I find you? I don’t want you to drown because I can't swim well enough,” Harry said, in a jumbled rush of words. 

 

Severus wrapped his arms around the young man whose face was pressed into his chest so hard he thought he might have a nose-shaped bruise when Harry finally let go. “Harry,” he said softly. “Calm down, love. I promise you no one will drown. Least of all me. Come and sit down, and we will have a cup of tea and talk about this, alright,” he said soothingly. 

 

Severus looked over Harry’s head, intending to signal Essie to put some calming draught into the boy’s tea, and was pleased to see the woman already measuring out the potion. He manoeuvred Harry to the sofa and sat down close beside the young man, who was yet to let him go. 

 

Essie placed Harry’s tea on the coffee table and cast a privacy ward at the door before pouring Severus’ tea. It would seem that the second task was going to involve a swim in the Black Lake; Dumbledore was really pushing his luck. She would have to do some research, but this called for a special kind of revenge. Up til now, she had thought that her mere presence would have been enough, but if the Headmaster was not going to learn his lesson about putting Harry in danger the easy way, then she would need something less subtle to help him learn.

 

Harry finally got control of himself and sat back on the sofa, though he did not move away from Severus. “I am sorry,” he said softly. “But when Daphne said the message was in mermish and I realised they had taken something. I checked on Bindi, but she was in my room, and I called Doby and then Draco; they were all there, so I thought…I mean, you are the person I would miss the most,” he explained. 

 

“Yes, I thought I might be,” Severus said with a smile.  “I have just spoken with the Headmaster, he was under the impression it was Miss Greengrass you would miss most.” 

 

"No, they can’t. Daphne’s is in enough trouble; Stephen’s parents are upset about the photo on the front page of the paper,” Harry said quickly. 

 

Severus placed his hand on Harry’s arm and met his frantic eyes. “I know, Lord Greengrass has been in touch with both me and your father. Lucius has contacted Stephen’s father, Lord Selwyn, to explain the situation, and I have told the Headmaster he cannot use Miss Greengrass for the second task.”

 

Harry calmed down immediately. “Right, good, so what will they…”

 

“Draco is the only logical choice. It cannot be me for obvious reasons, and no one else would make sense.” Severus told him. “I have spoken with your father; he is not happy about it, and he has gone to speak with the Minister, but it will be Draco you retrieve from the mervillage,” Severus told him. 

 

Harry looked stressed again. “How?” he asked. "I can't swim that well, and how do I breathe underwater?”

 

“With Gillyweed,” Severus replied. “It will solve both problems. When you eat it will give you gills and webbed feet, and you will find it very easy to swim down to the village. I have also been assured that no harm will come to any of the hostages, even if you don't make it to them,” Severus soothed. 

 

Harry sank back onto the sofa, relief on his face, and he gave Severus an adoring smile. No matter what happened, Severus always made it better.  

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 4 of Seven Years in Slytherin