The Phoenix Chronicles: Goblet of Fire
Chapter 10: Divination and the Scrying Stone

The circular room was bright with light falling from the fireplace and from the candles topping many surfaces. The walls were covered with portraits of witches and wizards and several floor to ceiling bookcases. The enormous claw-footed desk was next to a golden perch were a large gold and crimson bird sat with its head perked in interest at the sights before it. Small tables spaced throughout the office housed various glass, silver, and crystal instruments, puffing smoke, whirring, and some even spinning like a never slowing top.

Dumbledore sat in a tall, purple velvet chair that resembled a throne, and poured mead into four ornate glasses. He passed the glasses to his guests, raising his own in toast before slowly sipping its content. The witches and wizards broke out into excited chatter as the image faded from the crystal's surface, leaving it clear and leaving me with more questions than when I started looking for answers.

Across from me sat my beloved Gabrielle, her beautiful brows furrowed in equal confusion. She picked up the leug and held it in her hands for a moment before sliding it back into its velvet lined case. She walked to my trunk near the end of my bed, waved her wand and with a click, it opened. She rummaged around for a moment before pulling out my pensieve. She put the tip of her wand to her temple and closed her eyes, looking as though she were deep in thought. After a few moments, she pulled her wand away from her head. The tip was attached to of strand of silvery fog that became longer the further she pulled her wand away. Once the end of the fog fell from her temple, she swirled it into the pensieve where it whirled around gently, mixing into itself. The door to my room opened and looked up to see myself hurrying into the room, clearly agitated.

I know you are confused, but that's okay because I am too. However, soon you will understand what is going on while I remain oblivious to the many mysteries I was trying to solve. My treat to you dear readers, so without further ado:

When I returned to the carriage with Madame Maxime, I feigned exhaustion to avoid the celebration that was in full swing. I rushed to my room where Gabrielle was waiting for me with my pensieve already loaded with her memory of the vision she saw in the leug. What is a leug you ask? Well, it's a stone, usually bloodstone or crystal that is used by Seers in geomancy, which is earth divination.

You must be laughing by now. Divination? Surely this intelligent handsome young man doesn't believe in all that nonsensical fortune telling! And you'd be right, if this were written before Gabrielle had convinced me of its somewhat reliable truth. Veelas have a natural gift for divination and conveniently enough, Gabrielle's great great grandmother is one of the most celebrated French Seers of the last three centuries, with much of that gift passed onto her descendant.

The leug that Gabrielle uses was gifted to her by her grandmother when she was 5 years old and had been showing signs of having the Sight for a couple years. The crystal was large and flat, about the size of a dinner plate with small facets lining the edges. The top surface was smooth and clear, as though it were a slice taken out of a much larger stone which made the perfect surface for scrying. And now you're asking what scrying is right? Don't worry, I'm not a Seer so I can't read the future, but I had these same questions when all of this was explained to me the first time as well.

Scrying is the act of gazing into a medium (stone, fire, water, etc.) to detect messages and visions of the future or other unknowns. No two mediums a scryer uses will show the same thing as they each have their own 'personalities' and of course, the Sight strength of the Seer affects the visions as well. Scrying can show the past, present, or possible futures and can be guided to ask questions if you are specific. Only the Seer can able to see the images they are calling forth, hence the pensieve being used on my end, which is the magical equivalent of a Muggle DVR, but instead of TV shows or movies, wizards and witches use them to play and store their memories. My pensieve was given to me by Mrs. Flamel the Christmas after I had started learning alchemy since she said it would help with my meditation.

"Are you sure you guided the vision correctly?" I asked Gabrielle carefully, wanting to ignore what I saw in the crystal.

"Are you asking if the leug lied?" Her eyes were guarded.

"I just want to be sure." I stood up and walked over to my window. Looking out into the forest, I could see the trees swaying with the freezing wind that blew through the forest. All signs of life were wisely hidden from the weather. "He's the only person I can think of who had reason and power to enter my name in the tournament." Of course I wanted it to be him, one more reason to fashion my Elemental abilities into a more suitable weapon for stylized murder. If Dumbledore was the one who placed my name in the Goblet of Fire, then he must have reason beyond keeping me at Hogwarts. After all, if I were to be exposed, then the Potters would be forever known as the greatest scam artists in the history of the wizarding world and would probably have to change their names to Lily and James Plotter.

"We can try again tomorrow with the fire," she said gently.

"Fire can lie too."

"Fire doesn't lie," Gabrielle said lightly, wrapping her arms around my waist and putting her head on my chest. I returned her hug, resting my chin on the top of her head. We stayed like that until I had to ask another painful question of my wonderfully innocent and beautiful Gabrielle.

"What am I supposed to do love? I'm stuck here all year with that meddling old fool. What if he tells the Potters I'm here? What if this has something to do with what the Flamels were afraid of?"

"Then we fight like hell until we have to run," she said lightly, looking into my eyes. "I won't pretend that I am not worried about this tournament or Dumbledore or Voldemort because I am. But you have more power than anyone I have ever seen. We will cross those bridges when we get to them so let's focus on the present." I didn't deserve her in the slightest.

Alright, enough of my melodrama. I must get to work on continuing the harrowing tale of young Harry Phoenix, a misunderstood and lonely orphan with a heart of gold and balls of steel who fights magical terrorism while complaining about how impossible it is to understand women.

That morning, the common room and study was crowded with students getting a head start on their lesson plans. As Madame Maxime didn't think the professors of Hogwarts were up to par with her own professors, she assigned each student a strict study guide and lesson plan to follow throughout the school year with weekly tests. Any student found lacking in their studies would be sent back to the school for the remainder of the tournament. Of course, we could attend any classes we wished as long as we upheld strict behavioral standards. I was interested in attending a class with Moody, the paranoid ex-auror who was bound to make things fascinating but beyond that, I wouldn't be doing much homework this year. I felt rather daring in defying Madame Maxime, but what was she going to do to her Champion? Send me back to school resulting in my inconvenient and horrible death? At least without homework and the ruddy tests I could finish the broom cores I was getting behind on and possibly start the next set.

Gabrielle and I, dressed in Muggle clothing, exited the carriage and headed towards the town of Hogsmeade. I didn't want to be anywhere around the school today, pretending to be excited about the Tournament as that was bound to test my patience. Keeping my face upbeat and cheerful for a few hours is a real chore. I needed space away from the castle while I worked out a strategy for surviving the school year. Somewhere along the cobblestone path, Gabrielle's hand slid into mine, easing my ever present anxiety slightly.

The wizarding village neighboring the school was decently sized with several clothing stores that Gabrielle managed to drag me into. I knew she was trying to keep her mind off the task at hand for as long as she could and I didn't have the heart to tell her no. Besides, a few of the outfits she had tried on gave me quite the view. After purchasing nearly everything she laid her hands on, we left the shop behind along with some of Gabrielle's apprehension. Something must be said of the success of retail therapy.

Our next stop was the bookstore to search for every single book that made any kind of mention of the Triwizard Tournament. Sure I could have gone to the Hogwarts library to search for information and saved quite a few galleons but no doubt every relevant book had been checked out by other curious students. Anyways, I ended up buying all 7 books they had on the tournament and 3 more on various subjects I wanted to explore at my leisure as I couldn't waste all my time on avoiding homework. We paid to have the books delivered to the castle along with Gabrielle's new wardrobe (clearly this is an exaggeration but my arms felt it warranted after carrying all the bags) and headed to the Three Broomsticks for lunch and for a much needed meeting with Perry Bodin.

I held the door open for Gabrielle and followed her in to the nearly empty pub. The barmaid behind the counter was deep in conversation with a few wizards seated at the counter. She glanced towards the door as we walked in and gave us a smile. We seated ourselves in a booth and picked up the menus that magically appeared at the table. I watched Gabrielle as she picked up her menu and glanced through the pages, looking for something to satisfy her hunger. Everything she did was beautiful and I was a fool.

"Why hello there!" The barmaid had walked over to our table with a friendly smile. "I'm glad to see all the excitement of the Tournament won't keep the students away!"

"We needed a break from so much excitement," Gabrielle replied, with a smile.

"Well, my name is Madame Rosmerta and anytime you need a break, you're more than welcome here. Can I get you a couple of butterbeers to start with?" the barmaid asked, glancing between us. When I nodded the affirmative, she made her way back to the bar.

"This isn't where we are meeting Mr. Bodin is it?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yes, but there are meeting rooms on the second floor. Perry wanted to make sure we wouldn't be overheard." I left it at that as Madame Rosmerta had returned.

"And here we are! Two butterbeers!" She set the glasses on the table. "And what can I get you from the kitchen?"

"Two of the specials please."

As our food order was taken to the kitchen, we filled the time by talking about anything other than what we should have talked about. Though in all honesty, I was glad for the distraction. I didn't need a leug to know that this was going to be one of the very few stress free moments I had left with Gabrielle. That realization hit me harder than I cared for. When our food came out nearly ten minutes later, I also placed an order for a drink a bit stronger than the butterbeer I had in front of me.

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows at me as a glorious pint of strong Knottgrass mead appeared in front of me a moment later. "Don't you think that's rather illegal?"

"Madame Rosmerta doesn't know it is illegal. She thinks we are of age." At her confused look, I explained, "Only students of age are allowed to leave the grounds of their own volition during the school year. Since this isn't a planned student weekend and we are clearly students, we must be of age."

"Well, it's still a bit early for that." I smiled at her glare, giving her the most charming stare I could muster. She huffed after a moment, pouting stunningly. She had almost cured me of my commitment issues with the way she stuck her bottom lip out playfully. I drank the mead in silence, admiring the girl across from me, occasionally eating the food we ordered.

The door to the pub opened nearly twenty minutes and in walked Perry Bodin, dressed in dark robes and a hat that covered his dark hair. He walked straight to the bar and spoke in a low voice to Madame Rosmerta, giving me plenty of time to chug what was left of the mead knowing that Perry would give me a long lecture if he saw me drinking illegally in a pub. He glanced over at us and I gave him a nod. We left the booth we were in after dropping money onto the table to pay our debt. We walked upstairs and down the long hallway. Perry opened the last door on the left and ushered us in quickly. Shutting the door after us, he cast several privacy charms around the room and launched into his usual pleasantries before getting to the meat and potatoes of this meeting.

"I'm sorry." I snorted and turned towards the large window, watching the shoppers travel on the cobblestone street below. "I tried everything I could but the magic behind the contract supersedes everything. The creator specifically designed the tournament this way to prevent people from dropping out of the competition out of fear. In your case, it has been exploited to shackle an unwilling participant."

We told him everything that happened in the chamber after I was announced as a champion and everything that Gabrielle saw from the vision in the leug.

"This is most troubling, indeed. I can't imagine what Dumbledore hopes to gain by keeping you at Hogwarts this year."

I didn't mention what Nic suspected of Voldemort's possible return in the future. If he hadn't told Perry, there must have been reason beyond what I could fathom. Aside from that, I still needed to figure a few things out before I made any assumptions regarding a Dark Lord returning from the dead.

Perry stood up from the cushioned chair across from my love and took out his pocket watch. Glancing at its face, he said, "Well, you best be off. You have the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony in an hou-"

"The what?"I said, caught off guard.

"The Weighing of the Wands," Perry repeated slowly, putting his watch in his pocket. "The traditional tournament ceremony where a wandmaster inspects your wand to ensure that you will be able to compete at your highest ability. Surely Dumbledore mentioned this to you last night?" I shook my head as I was unsure what was said during the times I had stopped listening last night, though having my wand checked out was on my list of things to complete ever since the broom core incident. "If they neglected that fine detail then I'm sure they also left out the fact that the press will be present for photos and interviews as well."

"Yeah, they certainly neglected that information," I replied dryly.

I left my perch near the wall and reached for Gabrielle's hand. She had remained silent throughout the visit only offering up a few words here and there so I knew she had a lot on her mind. We left the Three Broomsticks and parted ways with Perry on the now bustling street. I kept Gabrielle's hand in mine and we walked in silence until the second we turned onto a winding tree-lined path near the train station. The bright red steam engine bearing the golden words The Hogwarts Express sat on an empty strip of railroad tracks.

"Harry, we have to get back to the school. You heard Perry, there's a wand weighing ceremony and you have to give an interview to the press," Gabrielle said, slowing slightly on the path.

"I don't have to do anything more than be with you in this moment." I pulled her along the pathway, placing her hand in my pocket along with my hand. From the small smile that formed on her face, I knew she was pleased by my lame attempt of flirting. I knew she was right; we had to get back to the castle and have my wand inspected, especially with the trouble it had been giving me lately. My plan was to have my wand privately examined as I didn't need anyone (read: Dumbledore) knowing what I had been doing with my wand. Call me entitled or arrogant all you want for holding up the ceremony. Pretty sure you're not the one risking their life in a stupid tournament so let's see how you act when the roles are reversed…

Gabrielle and I stayed in Hogsmeade as long as I dared to push my immunity as Champion before making our way back towards Hogwarts. We had barely stepped into the entrance hall of the school for a much needed dinner when I was intercepted by a Hogwarts student. I ushered Gabrielle into the Great Hall towards Margaux while I followed the little pest that was to lead me to the ceremony. The boy who looked no older than twelve was silent the entire trip to the ceremony room, which was as far out of the way as possible. After climbing the tenth staircase, I was seriously beginning to get annoyed. The boy stopped outside a large wooden door and banged his fist on it. He jumped when a loud click was heard and the door creaked open slowly. Well, points to Hogwarts for their dramatics.

I pushed open the door and was met immediately by the boyish face of Ludo Bagman. "Mr. Phoenix! Such a pleasure for you to join us!" he said.

"Like I had much of a choice in the matter," I replied back, rolling my eyes.

"I'm sorry, what did you say dear boy?" He placed his arm across my shoulders, ushering me into the room further. "Oh Madame Maxime!"

"Oh nothing," I said as Bagman walked away to greet my headmistress. They were talking quietly, no doubt in negotiations for an alliance in the tournament. These people were getting ridiculous…

I glanced around the large room which housed shelf after shelf of trophies and awards lined that the walls. Stoyan Dragonov stood near one of the crowded shelves, glaring and looking impressive. I would have to ask him what his secret was for looking so brooding and intimidating. There was a witch with a lime green colored dress on and an equally green leather jacket on over it. She had blonde hair that was so curly she had to have charmed it into such a silly fashion. She had it pinned elaborately about her head and had cat eye shaped glassed adorned with rhinestones. She was speaking with a man holding a large camera around his neck. He had on black robes and appeared very tame standing next to the woman. This pair was more than likely the oh so wonderful press that Perry had warned me about.

I walked over to the window and looked out, intent on ignoring everyone around me until I was forced to participate once more in human interaction. If only they made it as easy to not interact with me as I made it for them.

"Harry Phoenix right? I'm Katie Bell," a voice said from behind me.

"Charmed to meet you," I said, continuing my stance at the window, hoping she could take a hint that I wasn't in the mood to talk. I intended on ignoring her so hard she would questioned her own existence. I hadn't planned on being rude but you know what they say, you're not you when you're hungry and since they had interrupted my dinner plans, I wasn't feeling much like Harry Phoenix.

There was a slight commotion near the door when the subject of many pages of angst deleted from this witty manifesto arrived: Henry Potter. Bagman practically fell over himself while walking to greet the Boy Wonder. I rolled my eyes once more and turned back to the window, watching the students below for several moments before being summoned to the center of the room.

"Gather round Champions!" Bagman said excitedly. He was so full of excitement that I wanted to punch him. "As you are aware, the Weighing of the Wands will begin in just a few moments, once Mr. Ollivander has arrived. May I introduce Rita Skeeter? She will be covering the Tournament for the Daily Prophet!" Bagman motioned to the strange looking witch I noticed earlier. At her introduction she gave a smile, reminding me of an alligator. Her odd colored dress certainly did no justice for her in my imagination.

"Perhaps we could get a few words in with each champion before Dumbledore arrives? Yes? Alright, let's start with Henry Phoenix!" she said, not surprising anyone in the slightest. It seemed as though the press was going to focus on the fact that their precious Boy Who Lived was participating in the tournament than the other champions who actually deserved the publicity. Not that I minded… perhaps having my brother in the tournament would be beneficial to me as he deflected the attention away that I'd rather not have anyways.

Henry's interview lasted for nearly a half hour before he was released from the reptilian reporter. If there was time enough for this nonsense then surely they could have waited until I had something to eat. My growling stomach agreed with me loudly while I maintained my stoic position at the window before I was summoned for my interrogation.

"Mr. Phoenix! Such a pleasure to meet you! You don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill do you?" Rita Skeeter asked, placing a large sickly green quill upon her pad of parchment and offering me the chair across from her.

"I do actually, as a Quick-Quotes Quills is limited to fish tales, half-truths, impossible scenarios, and out-right-honest-to-goodness-lies," I said, sitting down on the offered chair. She paused slightly, her smile slipping from her face. If I hadn't been so irritated, I would have laughed. "No wonder the Prophet's rating as a reliable news source is in question," I said. She sputtered slightly at my rudeness, but put the quill away nevertheless with a snap of her purse.

I'll spare you the ever so boring details of the interview I gave to the Gator Lady, as my responses were, like most of the conversations in my life, a solid mix of condescending and aggressive. A few of my personal favorites though:

Gator Lady (GL): I'm sure you're thrilled to have been chosen as Champion for Beauxabatons.

Handsome Wizard (HW): You're certainly entitled to your wrong opinion.

And a bit later after she recovered from her shock:

GL: What are your plans for the future?

HW: Dinner.

GL: Oh, goodness, such a clever response. I meant, what are your long term plans?

HW: Breakfast.

This one definitely takes the cake though:

GL: So tell me Harry, what is going to be your strategy going into the First Task?

HW: My limited intelligence as a teenager prevents me from analyzing the full extent of my situation.

It was with this witty comment that Rita Skeeter cut my interview short. No doubt I wouldn't have any direct quotes in the Prophet article. Excuse me if I don't die from disappointment. After my encounter with Rita Skeeter, I moved back to my stance at the window while the next victim met with the reporter.

Dumbledore entered with room with an equally ancient looking wizard after Stoyan had his interview. Had I known they would have shown up more than an hour later, I would have stayed in Hogsmeade with Gabrielle much longer.

"Gather round once more Champions!" Bagman called. We walked over to the overly excited judge, while I remained vigilant to put as much distance between Dumbledore and me. He waited a moment for us to settle before continuing his speech. "May I introduce Garrick Ollivander? He crafts in Diagon Alley and stems from a long line of wand makers. As such, he will be inspecting your wands to ensure they are in working order for the tournament." He stepped back as Ollivander stepped forward and began to speak.

"Ms. Bell, if we could have you first…?" Ollivander motioned for Katie to step forward to the empty space and took the slender wand that she presented. "One of my very own… nine inches… made of black walnut… I remember this wand quite well… still have the scar from a particularly nasty bowtruckle guarding the tree," he said fondly. Rita's quill was scratching away happily in the corner which made me all the more thankful for my upcoming request. "Unicorn tail hair… such fine memories of making this wonderful wand."

He brought the wand up close to his eyes, inspecting every inch of it. He brandished the wand like a whip and a long stream of golden sparks shot out. "Still in satisfactory working order Ms. Bell." He handed the wand back to Katie, who stepped back to stand next to my brother once more.

"Mr. Phoenix, if you could present your wand for Mr. Ollivander," Dumbledore said.

"I'd rather have my wand inspected privately."

Dumbledore looked shocked at my request. "Mr. Phoenix, there is no need-"

"Now now Albus, a wand inspection is somewhat… intrusive," Ollivander interrupted. "If the boy insists a more intimate setting then we should oblige. Perhaps we could use the next chamber…?"

Though Dumbledore looked unhappy, he had no choice but to acquiesce to my request. Madame Maxime looked curious but she hid that behind her anger at Dumbledore for interfering. I followed Ollivander to the end of the room and through a door I hadn't previously noticed. To my satisfaction, the old wand master cast a few privacy charms around the room before speaking.

"Now that we are alone Mr. Phoenix, may I examine your wand?"

I pulled my wand from its holster and handed it to him. He handled it delicately, moving his eyes along the shaft and to the burns. He stared at my wand, his finger rubbing the hard wood in various places long after I had become uncomfortable with the attention and with the inappropriate innuendo of this entry.

"Fascinating… a Pierre Sarkozy creation… unicorn tail hair core… made of hazel, very rare, Mr. Phoenix, though it seems ill-suited for your needs."

"Ill-suited?" I repeated.

"Yes… quite ill-suited. The wood is much too weak for channeling your magic. Fascinating…" He said lightly, still examining my wand.

"How is that fascinating?"

"Mr. Phoenix, surely you have noticed the burn marks?" he said, placing the wand back in my hand. I gazed at my scorched wand, running my fingers along the elemental burns. "Have your spells seemed weaker than ordinary? Or perhaps your wand has misfired or fluctuated?" I snapped my head up to look into Ollivander's eyes. "Your wand is in the beginning stages of wilting, young man."

"I'm sorry but I still fail to see how this is fascinating." At this point, I didn't care if I was being rude. I knew I was having some issues with my wand lately but nothing of this magnitude. I didn't even know what wilting was at this point but it didn't sound good.

"A hazel wand is capable of outstanding magic in the hands of the skillful, and is so devoted to its owner that it often wilts, which is to say, it expels all its magic and refuses to perform the will of the caster. This is fascinating as this normally only happens to powerful wizards and witches near the end of their lives. When it occurs, it is necessary to extract the core for placement in another casing. If the core is of unicorn hair, as is yours, there is certainly no hope for rescuing the core and the wand dies. Since your wand is only in the beginning stages of wilting, I must insist that we attempt an extraction or your wand will surely perish prematurely."

I stood shocked, staring down at my wand. "This cannot be happening to me…" I muttered. My hands felt clammy and there was anxiety flooding my body.

"I'm terribly sorry young man. The wilting of a bonded wand is such an unfortunate event that it often leads to a state of mourning. I wish to spare you much of this by extracting the core to preserve as much of the bond as possible," Ollivander said. He pulled a velvet pouch from his pocket and reached inside, pulling out a long slender box after a moment of rummaging.

"Mr. Ollivander, please don't mention any of this to anyone," I said lightly, placing my wand in the box.

He shut the box and placed it back in his pouch. "You have my word."

With that promise, the old wand maker left the room. I took a deep breath to gather myself before following him out with a blank look on my face. I would die before giving the press or Dumbledore any show of my current emotional state.

For the rest of the ceremony, I fought to keep my composure as detached as possible. Stoyan and Henry were given a clean bill of health for their wands because why wouldn't the world remain fair to Mr. Doom and Gloom and the Boy Who Lived? This school year was going to ruin me…

Once the ceremony was complete, the photographer insisted on a photoshoot of the champions and the judge and then of each of us separately. I was beginning to lose my patience with the idiot when his camera mysteriously caught fire and with that, we were allowed to leave as the man grieved the loss of his camera and film while the judges wandered off together. The other champions scattered towards the Great Hall and a warm meal. The idea of food at this point repulsed me as I walked down the empty stone hallways of the school and out into the cold night, lost in thought and stupidity. A voice pulled me from my wallowing and into an instant state of hatred when I neared the lake that housed the Durmstrang ship.

"I'm sure you wish to harm me, Harry. I must say I am impressed with your level of self-restraint thus far," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. My anxiety and depression over my wand gave way to the anger I had been harboring since the Sorcerer's Stone was destroyed.

If Dumbledore wanted to antagonize me, then he was going to learn that in the land of predators, the lion never fears the jackal.

A/N: Responses to reviews are located in my profile. I've already started the next chapter so that should be up soon. If you have any questions, please ask. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving all!