Sorry everyone! I would have replied to all your reviews, but FanFiction was being an idiot, and said something along the lines of "Oops! You have clicked on something-I-can't-be-bothered-remembering!" And I know you can reply to someone's review if you go to the reviews page and click on the little speech bubble mark on the top right hand corner of the review, and I did that a few times, but then I lost track of who I replied to and who I hadn't replied to… so, I gave up .
Anyway, my thanks to: Lord Claw, ChelseaAnonymous, scione, SharpShooterRizaHawkeye, Ichigo's-Lover-1996, ShadowsBloodPain, alchemists19, dattebayo4321, tenshi-no-akuma-81, SiriusBalisticPretzels, BloodTrinity, Crazy-Psycho-Anime-Lover, narutoshamanking, jackie, JayneParker
Chapter Nine: All Falling Apart
(…)
Fox stood up slowly, never taking his eyes off the shell-shocked figure sitting at the Gryffindor table.
A low buzzing filled the hall, like the sound of angry bees.
"Crap," Dog whispered.
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
Hermione pushed a dazed Harry out of his seat, and Fox went around the Ninja Table, going up to meet Dumbledore.
"What's going on?" he asked in a low voice. Dumbledore shook his head; he didn't know either.
Harry moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was sitting right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished, and stared at Harry as he passed, like everyone else. Harry went through the door out of the Great Hall, and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.
The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus moustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.
"More trouble," Fox sighed as he appeared with a poof beside Harry. Harry ignored him.
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry and Fox walked in, and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.
"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
She thought he had come to deliver a message. Harry didn't know how to explain what just happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions. It struck him how very tall all of them were.
There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry by the arm, completely brushing Fox aside, and led him forwards.
"Extraordinary," he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen… lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce – incredible though it may seem – the fourth Triwizard champion?"
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered.
Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."
"Well… it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the Goblet… I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage… it's down in the rules, you're obliged… Harry will just have to do the best he –"
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore followed closely by Mr Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. The buzzing of hundreds of students was heard on the other side of the wall before Professor McGonagall shut the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief, he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?
Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full and considerable height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black satin bosom swelled.
"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.
"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?
He gave a short, nasty laugh.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting on Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contesters, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."
"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here –"
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.
Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.
"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows. Fox shifted.
"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.
"No," said Harry vehemently.
"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head.
"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that –"
"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.
"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake," said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"
She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.
"Dumbledore-san, if I may?" asked a quiet voice from the shadows. Everybody but Dumbledore jumped, and they glanced over to where the voice came from. Once again, everybody in the room had forgotten about the guards. Fox stepped into the light, followed by Cat and Eagle. How they got in here without anybody noticing, no one could say.
"Of course," Dumbledore said.
"Eagle and Cat both have something to add," Fox said quietly.
"When Harry's name was announced, I had my Byakugan on and surveyed the crowd," Eagle said.
"What's a 'bakuugan'?" Bagman whispered. Dumbledore ignored him.
"Go on," Dumbledore said.
"My Byakugan can see the chakra levels of someone, but they can also sense the energy levels, though not as well chakra (1)," Eagle continued. "And it was too quick for me to see who it was exactly, but someone's energy levels went sky high for a second, before going back to normal. That meant that the person was excited and happy, but there was too much interference for me to see who it really was. Everyone was too confused and shocked, and that blocked me from pinpointing that person. Someone wants Harry to enter the Tournament. Why, I cannot say."
"I can also add that when I was guarding the Goblet, I also activated my Byakugan and I read the name of each piece of parchment that the students held. None of them had Harry's name on it," Cat said.
"But, there is one thing. Late last night, when I was guarding it, I had a sudden bout of dizziness, and I blacked out for a second it two. I think that while I was out, someone slipped past me and did something to the Goblet, as well as putting Harry's name in. I also think that that same person had cast a spell over me so that I would be distracted, giving them the opening to do what they did to the Goblet."
A silence followed after she had finished speaking. Fox was glaring at Cat. Finally, Karkaroff broke it.
"Mr Crouch… Mr Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are out – er – objective judges. Surely you would agree that this is most irregular?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was with his usual curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people who names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament."
"Well, Barty knows that rulebook back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out – it won't re-ignite until the start of the next Tournament -"
"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur. I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice near the door. "You can't leave your champions now. He's got to compete. They're all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped towards the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that Goblet…"
"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that Goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the Tournament… heck, they probably sent some kind of dizziness spell to Cat, who was guarding the Goblet last night, and when she was distracted, charmed the Goblet and put Potter's name in under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category."
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly.
"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff – as you ought to remember…"
"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment at whom he was speaking to, but then realised 'Mad-Eye' could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction – Karkaroff's face was burning.
"How this situation arose, we do not know, although we have a good guess," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room, and glancing at the ninja when he said the last part. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do…"
"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr –"
"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."
Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one, either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid. Bagman, however, looked rather excited.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?"
Mr Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes… the first task…"
He moved forwards into the firelight.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur and Krum, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important…
"The first task will take place on November the twenty fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.
"The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help in any kind form their teachers to complete the tasks in the Tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the Tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
Mr Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"
"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must be getting back to the Ministry," said Mr Crouch. "It is a very busy, busy difficult time at the moment… I've left young Weartherby in charge… very enthusiastic… a little over-enthusiastic, if truth be told…"
"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?' said Dumbledore.
"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts, now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"
"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch, with a touch of his old impatience.
"Professor Karkaroff – Madame Maxime – a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.
But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders, and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they too, exited, though in silence.
"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
Harry glanced at Fox, Cat and Eagle, but then decided that he didn't want them accompanying him.
"Okay," Harry said numbly and left the room with Cedric.
When they had gone, Fox turned back to the remaining teachers.
"This just makes our job harder," Fox sighed. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Moody all looked at him. "We have to watch Potter-san, as well as look out for the person who put his name in the Goblet."
"I'm pretty sure it wasn't a student," Eagle said. "The flare of energy came from the teachers' table." An uneasy silence followed.
"What are we going to do, Dumbledore?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Potter is still much too young."
"There's nothing we can do, Minerva," Dumbledore said heavily. He had shielded his concern from Harry, but now that the boy was gone, he showed it.
"We just gotta make sure he doesn't get hurt too seriously," Moody muttered.
"Dumbledore," Fox said slowly. "Is Karkaroff one of Voldemort's followers?" A wince was heard in the room, but Dumbledore ignored it.
"He used to be," Dumbledore told him.
"Right…" Fox said, lost in thought.
"If you'd please excuse us, I have to go and tell this to the others," Fox said. Fox and Eagle disappeared, while Cat bowed and flitted out the door also.
(In the Ninja Common Room)
After Naruto had relayed everything that had gone on in the chamber to his comrades, and thoughtful silence ensured.
"We going to have to be extra careful," Sakura said.
"Whoever wants Potter-san dead really means it," Tenten added. "I mean, they're going up against dragons. Who knows what things that other tasks have in store for them."
"We will have to watch Potter-san even more closely than before," Sasuke said. He ran a hand through his hair. "Great."
Naruto rounded to Hinata, his eyes blazing. He had hidden his anger from everyone until this moment.
"How could they have gotten past you?" Naruto asked sharply, his voice quiet with rage. Hinata looked at him calmly, though she had a tiny frown on her face.
"I don't know," she said simply, "but I already told you: I suddenly became dizzy last night. It was probably the work of a wizard."
"You should have at least sensed whoever it was who charmed you," Naruto hissed. "You're an ANBU. Stuff like this shouldn't slip past you."
"I'm sorry," Hinata murmured. She didn't know what else to say.
"Naruto, stop it," Neji said, folding his arms. "We won't change anything if you just stand there and yell at her." Naruto glared at both of the Hyuga, but then turned away.
"Fine," Naruto said quietly.
"Do we know anyone who might have a reason to hurt Potter-san?" Tenten asked.
"Seriously, the only person who wants to hurt Potter-san is that Voldemort guy," Ino said. "And he's supposed to be in some distant country, in hiding and alone, according to what Dumbledore-san has told us."
"Maybe one of his followers is here," Shikamaru suggested. "It's highly likely. Aren't they called Death Eaters?"
"Yeah," Naruto said.
"It's probably that Karkaroff man," Kiba said. "He looks very suspicious."
"Didn't Dumbledore-san say that Voldemort's followers have some kind of mark on their arms?" Naruto asked.
"The Dark Mark," Hinata said. "It's in the shape of a skull with a snake coming out of it, or something like that."
"Do you think we should check?" Neji said. "Hinata's and my Byakugan can see through their sleeves. We could see if Karkaroff has that Mark."
"Nah, you don't have to check. Dumbledore-san already confirmed that he's a Death Eater," Naruto said.
Gaara was staring out the window, his pale green eyes lost in thought. Finally, he spoke, catching everyone's attention.
"It's too obvious," Gaara said. "I read a report on Karkaroff, and apparently he sent a lot of his Death Eater friends to the wizarding prison, Azkaban. By doing that, he wouldn't be very popular, would he?"
"Maybe he's doing this to get back into Voldemort's favour," Ino said.
"Yes," Gaara said, "but still, it's too obvious. I just have a feeling that it's not him that put Potter-san's name into the Goblet."
Silence.
"Okay, sleep!" Naruto announced. His anger earlier had completely disappeared.
"What about guard duty?" Neji asked. Naruto shook his head.
"Have you guys seen yourselves in the mirror lately?" he asked. "You all look dead tired. Go get some rest. I'll just make a few Kage Bunshins to do the guarding."
There were sighs of relief around the circle, and as they passed him and into the dorms, they bid him good night. Naruto made some Kage Bunshins, gave them instructions, and he too, went up to bed.
Sakura and Gaara were left sitting in front of the fireplace. Gaara stood up.
"I'm going to go for a walk," Gaara said quietly.
"I'll go with you," Sakura said. "I can't sleep."
"You should," Gaara said, "you're gonna get sick from sleep-deprivation." Sakura chucked quietly.
"You didn't sleep for years," she pointed out. Gaara shrugged.
"I got used to it," he replied. "Besides, Shukaku helped me."
"Whatever," Sakura said, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "I still want to go for a walk."
"Naruto," Gaara called up, knowing that the blonde could hear him. "Sakura and I will do guard duty tonight." After receiving a confirmation from their captain, the pair slipped out into the castle corridors, putting on their masks.
Silver moonlight streaked in from the windows. Occasionally, a student would rush past, or a ghost would float through the walls, but other than that, everything was empty and silent and peaceful. It was only seven o'clock in the evening, but most people had retreated into their respective common rooms, even the teachers. The Hufflepuff and Gryffindor common rooms in particular were making a lot of noise.
"Raccoon…" Slug said hesitantly. Raccoon turned his impassive mask towards her.
"When you stay awake at night… what do you normally think about?" Slug asked.
"That question has a wide range of answers," Raccoon said. He turned his face to the window. "But I normally just sit and stare at the moon."
"Why?" Slug asked. Raccoon shrugged.
"… I guess it's because I've been judged without a fair trial all my life," he said quietly, "but when I look at the moon, it doesn't judge me, and I like that."
"That makes sense," she said. Raccoon turned towards her, his mouth curved up slightly under his mask.
"You think?" he asked. She nodded. "You're the first person to say so. But then again, you're the first person I've told."
Slug smiled, and the two continued on their rounds.
(…)
Harry had finally made his way up to the dorms, glad to be away from the chaos and shouting and cheering that engulfed the Gryffindor common room. None of them had believed that he didn't put his name into the Goblet, none of them listened to him; they were just celebrating the fact that there was a Gryffindor champion. He found Ron lying on his bed in the otherwise empty dormitory, still fully dressed. He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him.
"Where've you been?" Harry said.
"Oh, hello," said Ron, looking up at him.
He was grinning, but it looked a very odd, strained sort of grin. Harry suddenly became aware that he was still wearing the Gryffindor banner that Lee had tied around him when he was down in the common room. He hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly. Ron lay on the bed without moving, watching Harry struggle to remove it.
"So," he said when Harry had finally removed the banner and thrown it into a corner. "Congratulations."
"What d'you mean, congratulations?" said Harry, staring at Ron. There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling; it was more like a grimace.
"Well… no one else got across the Age Line," said Ron. "Not even Fred and George. What did you use – the Invisibility Cloak?"
"The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," said Harry slowly.
"Oh, right," said Ron. "I thought you might've told me if it was the Cloak… because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"
"Listen," said Harry, "I didn't put my name in that Goblet. Someone else must've done it."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "What would they do that for?"
"I dunno," said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say "to kill me".
Rose eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair.
"It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," he said. "If you don't want anyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all, Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do any end-of-year tests either…"
"I didn't put my name in that Goblet!" said Harry, starting to feel angry.
"Yeah, okay," said Ron, his tone annoyingly sceptical. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you… I'm not stupid, you know."
"You're doing a really good impression of it," Harry snapped.
"Yeah?" said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now. "You want to get to bed, Harry, I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo call or something."
He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster bed, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.
Sticking to the roof, a Fox-clone stood there, silently shaking his head at the two boys.
Brats,he thought. I can't believe they're fighting over something so trivial.
Ron was being unreasonable, Fox-clone decided. I better dispel so I can report this to Fox-original. There was a poof as the clone vanished, leaving behind two angry boys, both furious for different reasons.
"Potter-san and Weasley-san got into a fight," Naruto reported to the others the next morning.
"Eh? Why?" Sakura asked. The ninja were having breakfast in the Shinobi Quarters, not bothering to go down to the Great Hall.
"I think Weasley-san is jealous," Naruto said.
"Jealous?" Kiba repeated.
"Probably," Shikamaru said with a yawn. "From what I've heard, Weasley-san is always in thrown into the shadows. He's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and when he goes to school, Potter-san is always in the spotlight. Not that it's Potter-san's fault," he added.
"Think they'll make up?" Tenten asked.
"They will, just give them some time," Hinata said.
"And remember, this isn't our fight. Try not to get involved," Gaara warned them.
"Gaara's right, they have to work this out for themselves," Ino said.
"It's not like I want to get involved in the idiots' fight anyway," Naruto said.
"So what are we doing today?" Neji asked. Naruto shrugged.
"What we always do on Sundays," Naruto replied. "We go train."
"Dobe," Sasuke called.
"Nani?"
"Train with me."
A grin.
"Fine."
(…)
The next morning, Ron had left the dorms before Harry awoke, and so Harry had the pleasure of not seeing his face.
He and Hermione walked around the lake, Harry eating, and they both discussed what happened last night.
"Ron's jealous," Hermione said.
"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously when Hermione announced this little fact. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of herself in front of the whole school, does he?"
"Look," said Hermione patiently, "it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously, "I know you don't ask for it… but – well – you know, Ron's got all these brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous – he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many…"
"Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it… people gawping at my forehead everywhere I go…"
"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself, it's the only way to sort this out."
"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or –"
"That's not funny," said Hermione quietly. "That's not funny at all." She looked extremely anxious. "Harry, I've been thinking – you know what you've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"
"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up in the –"
"Write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts… it's almost like he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out with me –"
Before Harry could protest, however, Slug appeared with a poof behind the pair.
"Hermione has got the right idea," she said quietly, her pink hair swaying in the breeze.
"What do you want?" Harry snapped. Hermione punched his arm.
"Nothing. Just wanted a walk by the lake," Slug said. Her emerald eyes were far away as she stared at the glittering depths. Harry groaned.
"Argh! I don't know what to do!" he growled, pulling at his black hair. Slug and Hermione looked at him.
"Write to Sirius."
"Write to Black-san."
The two girls glanced at each other. Hermione gave her a tiny smile, and she had a feeling that Slug was doing the same.
Harry, defeated, went back up to the castle, no longer wanting to snap at the guards. He didn't want to give any more reasons for them to hate him, since he knew that he wouldn't be very popular with the other students.
(…)
The next day, Harry could no longer avoid the rest of the school once he was back in lessons. It was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought Harry had entered himself for the Tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.
The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold towards the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's gory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff house vey rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch.
Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on with very well, did not talk to him even though they were re-potting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray – though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face.
Ron wasn't talking to Harry either. Hermione sat between them, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other.
Harry thought that even Professor Sprout seemed distant with him – but then again, she was Head of Hufflepuff house.
To his immense relief, all the guards and Hermione accepted his story without question: that he didn't put his name in the Goblet, but none of them could really do anything about hatred the school seemed to direct to him.
Harry would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins, too – the first time he would come face to face with them since becoming champion.
Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer in place.
"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he said to Crabbe and Goyle, the moment he got within earshot of Harry. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer… half the Triwizard champions have died… how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."
"If you don't shut up, your life's gonna end in ten minutes," Raven said in a cold voice, appearing with a poof beside Harry and Hermione, "or maybe even less."
Today, it seemed as though Slug had asked the rest of the ninja to be more friendlier, and although some of them still were cold and stony, they no longer looked at Harry as though he was a piece of dog crap any more.
Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin, holding a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the Skrewts had been killing each other was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each of the class to fix a leash on a Skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about his plan was that it distracted Malfoy completely.
"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end or the sucker?"
"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating.
"Don't worry, it's real easy," Fox said, coming out of the Forbidden Forest. "Hagrid-san let me have a go yesterday. They're not very strong at all."
Hagrid smiled at the guard.
Hagrid waited until everyone else had set off with their Skrewts, then turned to Harry, whom he had pulled away from the rest of the class, and said, very seriously, "So – yer competin', Harry. In the Tournament. School champion."
"One of the champions," Harry corrected him.
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows. "No idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"
"You believe I didn't do it, them?" said Harry, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude he felt at Hagrid's words.
"'Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh – an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."
"Wish I knew who did do it," said Harry bitterly.
The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The Skrewts were now over two metres (A/N I made up that measurement) long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colourless, they had developed a kind of thick, greyish shiny armour. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs – but still without recognisable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong, and very hard to control.
"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. Harry assumed he was talking about the Skrewts, because his classmates certainly weren't; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the Skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several metres, and more than one person was being dragged along their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.
The only people who could control them, it seemed, were Fox and Raven. Both were holding two Skrewts each, and were looking as though they were having a walk in the park. Every now and then, they would bend down and lift someone back onto their feet, all the while maintaining control on their Skrewts.
"Ah, I don' know, Harry," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at him with a worried expression on his face. "School champion… everythin' seems ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"
Harry didn't answer. Yes, everything did see to happen to him… that was more or less what Hermione had said as they had walked around the lake with Slug, and that was the reason, according to her, that Ron was no longer talking to him.
(…)
"Dumbledore, you cannot be serious!" Fudge cried, wringing his hands.
He had arrived at Hogwarts that evening, and had gone straight to the headmaster's office.
"Potter, a champion?" Fudge repeated. "This can't be."
"Someone hoodwinked the Cup, Cornelius," Dumbledore said quietly. "Even the guards think so." Fudge looked as though someone had slapped him in the face.
"Well, now to the reason why I originally planned to come," Fudge said hastily. "The ninja." Dumbledore sat down behind his desk, pressed his fingers together and surveyed the Minister.
"And what about them?" Dumbledore asked. Fudge seemed to be struggling not to shout.
"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well what I think of them!" Fudge blustered. "They are savages, killers from a young age. All those books about them, however little information they may hold, have all said the same thing: they are dangerous."
Dumbledore merely looked at him.
"They may be dangerous, Cornelius," he said, "but they are loyal to their clients."
"Loyal?" Fudge repeated, "Dumbledore, that is the last thing they are. For heavens' sake, I have heard that they kill from six years of age, and wouldn't hesitate to murder a child if that's what they feel like at the time."
"And where have you heard this from?" Dumbledore asked.
"Books!" Fudge said.
"Books," Dumbledore repeated calmly. "Cornelius, we haven't been in contact with them for over a hundred years. For all you know, their ways may have changed."
"May have, Dumbledore, only may have," Fudge said. "We can't take that risk."
"Cornelius, what danger do they impose on you?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well-well, they could turn on you and kill us all," Fudge said, his face reddening.
"And do you believe that I would let them run wild and out of control?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, of course not, but even so, Dumbledore," Fudge said.
"Cornelius, they are perfectly safe," Dumbledore said, very firmly, "I put my absolute trust in them."
"But I don't," Fudge said.
"You can't make them leave, anyway, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "They must stay here until the end of their mission."
"But what if the guards are in league with You-Know-Who?" Fudge asked.
"And what proof do you have of that?" Dumbledore asked.
"Their masks! Their weapons!" Fudge said, almost twisting his bowler hat out of shape.
"That is the standard uniform for people of their rank," Dumbledore said, looking at his fingers as though they were the most interesting things in the world.
"What if they made that little titbit of information up?" Fudge asked.
"Cornelius, you are winding things out of proportion," Dumbledore said.
Fudge sighed, knowing from experience that the headmaster would not change his mind.
"If that's what you insist," he said, turning to leave, "but I will be keeping an eye on them."
(…)
The next few days were some of Harry's worst at Hogwarts. The closest he had ever come to feeling like this had been during those months, in his second year, when a large part of the school had suspected him of attacking his fellow students. But Ron had been on his side then. He thought he could have coped with the rest of the school's behaviour if he could just have Ron back as a friend, but he wasn't going to try and persuade Ron to talk to him if Ron didn't want to. Nevertheless, it was lonely, with dislike pouring in on him from all sides.
He could understand the Hufflepuffs' attitudes, even though he didn't like it; they had their own champion to support. He expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins. But he had hoped the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support him as much as Cedric. He was wrong, however. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that he had been desperate to earn himself a bit more fame by tricking the Goblet into accepting his name.
Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, Hedwig was refusing to come anywhere near him, Professor Trelawney was predicting his death with even more certainty than usual, and he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework.
The only good thing was that the guards seemed to scare away everyone who insulted him. When the guards were following him, no one dared to glare at Harry, no one dared to shout out abuse, in fact, no one even wanted to look in his direction in case the ninja were feeling sadistic that day. But the shinobi couldn't be there forever; as soon as no guard was in sight, the hatred poured in again.
Double Potions was always a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish Harry as much as possible for daring to become school champion, was about the most unpleasant thing Harry could imagine.
When he and Hermione arrived outside Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment Harry thought they were S.P.E.W. badges – then he saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage.
Support CEDRIC DIGGORY –
The REAL Hogwarts Champion!
"Like them, Potter?" said Malfoy loudly, as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do – look!"
He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another once, which glowed green:
POTTER STINKS
The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around Harry. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.
"Oh, very funny," said Hermione sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "really witty."
Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for Harry either.
"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."
Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.
"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.
"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody or Stag's not here to look after you now – do it, if you've got the guts –"
For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.
"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled.
"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.
Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in mid-air, and ricocheted off at angles – Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit Hermione. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up – Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.
"Hermione!" On had hurried forwards to see what was wrong with her.
Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth – already larger than average – were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, towards her chin – panic-stricken, she felt them, and let out a terrified cry.
"I seriously cannot leave you guys alone for one minute!" snarled a voice behind them. Harry looked up and Cat, Raccoon and Eagle coming towards them. "One little meeting gone overtime, and you guys have already jinxed each other!"
"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. Fabulous.
The Slytherins clamoured to give their explanations. Snape pointed a yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."
"Potter attacked me, sir –"
"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.
"- and he hit Goyle – look –"
Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.
"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.
"Malfoy got Hermione!" said Ron. "Look!"
He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth – she was doing her best to best them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up in silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back. They all shut up, though, when Cat gave them a killer glare.
Snape looked coldly at Hermione, and then said, "I see no difference."
Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.
It was lucky, perhaps, that both Harry and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time; lucky their voice echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.
"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."
"Excuse me, Snape-san," Eagle said coldly. "We have to deal with Malfoy-san." The class stopped, the Gryffindors eager to hear what Malfoy had to do, and the Slytherins worried. Snape raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? I wasn't aware that Malfoy has done anything," he said. Raccoon rolled his eyes.
"Your favouritism regarding the Slytherins is highly unfair and unjust. While you may ignore the fact that both Potter-san and Malfoy-san were duelling, we won't. And we will punish both Potter-san and Malfoy-san for what their spells did, whether you like it or not. So Potter-san and Malfoy-san will have detention tonight, at 6 o'clock. They will meet us in the Great Hall. Is that clear?" Raccoon said, eyeing Harry and Malfoy at the last part. They both gulped and nodded.
"And twenty points from Slytherin for unauthorised duelling," Cat added, her normally kind voice layered with annoyance.
The cords in Snape's neck stood out, but then he said, "Well now, get inside, all of you."
The class filed inside in silence, the guards slipping in last.
"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at all of them, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…"
Snape's eyes met Harry's, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. Harry imagined picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head –
And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on Harry's thoughts.
It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.
"Yes?" said Snape curtly.
"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."
Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.
"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."
Colin went pink.
"Sir – sir, Mr Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think I they want to do photographs…"
Harry would have given anything he owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. He chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.
"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."
"Please, sir – he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Colin. "All the champions –"
"Very well!" said Snape. "Potter – take your bag and get out of my sight!"
Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up and headed for the door. As he walked through the Slytherin desks, POTTER STINKS flashed at him from every direction.
"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry had closed the dungeon door behind him. "Isn't it, though? You being champion?"
"Yeah, really amazing," said Harry heavily, as they set off towards the steps into the Entrance Hall. "What do they want photos for, Colin?"
"The Daily Prophet, I think!"
"Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what I need. More publicity."
"Good luck!" said Colin, when they had reached the right room. Harry knocked on the door, and entered.
"Wow," whispered a familiar voice. Harry jumped; he could never get used to the guards' sudden appearances.
"Cat," he said. The blue haired girl nodded at him.
The classroom they had entered was fairly small; most of the desk had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed, end to end, in front of the blackboard, and covered with a long length of velvet. Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.
Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner, as usual. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly and bounded forwards. "Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come Harry, and uh, guard," he added, spotting Cat. "Nothing to worry about, it's just the Wand Weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment –"
Cat slipped off to the side, not liking to be in the spotlight and observed in the shadows.
"Wand Weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing towards the witch in magenta robes, "she's going a small piece on the Tournament for the Daily Prophet…"
"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry.
Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jewelled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in long nails, painted crimson.
Cat studied Rita Skeeter closely, and she decided that the woman would cause all of them trouble in the future. She sighed; another problem.
End chapter.
Cutting it off there :D
Phew, this chapter took me a while to write.
(1) Uh… about Neji seeing energy levels… I made that up. I'm pretty sure the Byakugan can only see chakra levels… but oh well.
