CHAPTER 10:
REVELATION AND DECLARATION
Sirius Black, to put it mildly, was angry. Despite assurances from Dumbledore about Harry's safety, his godson was now locked into a magical contract, and would have to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It was only thanks to Remus that his anger had gone from Fiendfyre levels to merely simmering cauldron levels. Nonetheless, there was a distinctly aggressive sound to his steps as he approached the Great Hall.
He remembered once, when running away from home (he did that a few times before he went to Hogwarts, and this was before he went to Hogwarts), peering through the window of a Muggle household at a television. He remembered seeing the opening of some TV show called The Prisoner, where a man with intense eyes stormed down a corridor and flung open the doors. He even thought he heard a thunderclap when that happened. He thought he would emulate that, and so, did so.
McGonagall hurried over. "Mr Black! Please calm yourself!"
"This is calm," Sirius replied. "Where's Dumbledore?"
"In his office with Monsieur Delacour," the Deputy Headmistress said. "Sirius, please calm yourself! You're disturbing the students!"
In a low whisper, Sirius said, his eyes boring into McGonagall's own, "My godson has just been shanghaied into this bloody Tournament. I am very angry, and trying to remain as calm and civil as possible, because the last time I got this angry, I ended up in Azkaban, accused of mass-murder and betraying my friends. But Harry has been thrown into what could be a life or death situation, and from what Dumbledore has told me, he has no way out, save to participate! Tell me, is there any sane reason why I shouldn't be angry and worried for the life of my godson?"
"We all are," McGonagall said. "Amelia Bones is sending over an Auror with Veritaserum and antidote. Harry's going to make a declaration later today that he did not enter the Tournament, or ask someone to enter his name. At the very least, it will stop the other two schools from complaining, and hopefully, prevent the school from turning on him. It was Hercule Delacour who suggested Veritaserum, and Harry has agreed. Harry's concern is trying not to alienate his friends. Not just his friends at Hogwarts, but also Fleur Delacour, who, incidentally, is now one of the Champions."
Harry didn't seem to be present at breakfast. He probably had it early and left to avoid the attention. Eventually, Sirius said, "All right. I need to see Dumbledore. Remus, have you still got it?"
Remus nodded. "The Marauder's Map. But I don't know why."
"Call it a gut instinct."
"The last time we followed one of those, Sirius, we ended up getting hexed by irate girls for our troubles," Remus grumbled.
"And you deserved every one of them," McGonagall said archly. "Peeking in on girls changing, indeed!"
Sirius gave a grin at that. Ah, good times…
Harry, as it turned out, had gone to the Beauxbatons carriage. A few of the students present glared at him. Others, especially Marie and Audrey, looked at him sympathetically. In fact, the two came over. Audrey spoke, in hesitant and halting English, "Madame Maxime told us you would say you did not do this under Veritaserum. We believe you. But some of the others…" She waved a hand at one lot glaring at Harry.
"It's okay. I'm sorry I embarrassed Beauxbatons," Harry said. "I just came to talk to Fleur and Madame Maxime."
"I am here, Harry Potter," the voice of Madame Maxime said, the massive woman emerging from the carriage. "You apologised already last night to Fleur and myself. Another apology is not necessary. I am still furious about this situation, but you are not the subject of my anger."
"Even so, being friends with one of your students means that I'm worried about the effect this is having on Beauxbatons in general, and Fleur in particular," Harry said.
"Fleur is not fragile, though your chivalry does you credit. But please remember, Harry Potter, that you are now an opponent against her in the Tournament. I will not object to your continuing relationship, as long as it does nothing to interfere with the Tournament."
Harry nodded. "Is she okay?"
"She is finishing getting ready for the day. She has had a somewhat fraught night, as you can imagine," Maxime said. "It is good that she is friends with you. Her heritage…means many boys who approach her are infatuated. They do not want to be friends in the normal sense. I understand how that feels, how heritage can prevent one from friendship, which is one of the reasons I will not object to your relationship."
"Merci beaucoup, Madame Maxime," Harry said. And then, Fleur alighted from the carriage behind Maxime. "Good morning, Fleur."
"Is it?" she asked, raising a wry eyebrow. "Was I dreaming about you being in the Tournament, then?" she asked facetiously.
"Sorry, that nightmare's still going."
"Of course it is," Fleur muttered resignedly, before giving Harry a tired smile. "We do not have much time to speak before classes, mon ami."
Harry nodded, but it was better than nothing.
"We're doing all we can, Sirius," Dumbledore said as the Marauder paced in his office, on the same spot as Hercule had paced not so long ago.
"Are you? Forgive me for being sceptical about that, Dumbledore, given Magical Britain's track record in general," Sirius said, glaring at the older man. "Seriously, there were Death Eaters rioting at the bloody Quidditch World Cup, and even without that little interlude, the secrecy around that was sloppy. I've seen tighter controls on Muggleborn children doing magic than those idiots there, and I wouldn't be surprised if Mr Roberts, thanks to all those Obliviations, is acting like a Dementor Kissed him! But it's this Tournament that's worrying me, especially as both of you said that Bagman and Baum closed up any loopholes Harry could have used to get out of it. As I said before, the only thing preventing me from heading down there and hexing the hell out of either of them is knowing that the last time I ended up going off half-cocked, I ended up at Chez Azkaban with a Dementor waiter!"
"Which is why we are trying to find out what happened, Monsieur Black," Hercule said. He peered at the parchment sticking out of Remus' robes. "Is that the map you took off the twin brothers last year, Fred and George Weasley?"
"Yes," Remus said, fishing it out. "Sirius had some sort of gut feeling that we might need it."
As Remus opened up and activated the map, Hercule frowned. "I am not sure how this map, marvellous though it is, would be of any help. I mean, can it show us who put the name into the Goblet of Fire?"
"No. But maybe I could think of a 'rewind' function, like the VCRs Muggles use," Remus said, before he frowned in his own turn. Then, he paled.
"What's the matter, Moony? You look like you've seen a ghost," Sirius asked.
"Well…I'm seeing a dead man here, believe it or not," Remus said quietly. "Dead people don't show up on this map. And yet…I'm seeing someone marked 'Barty Crouch' in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom along with Moody."
Sirius snatched the map from Remus, while Dumbledore discreetly cast a charm to lock the door. After a moment, he said, "This is impossible! Both of them are dead! Moony, can you modify it so that it shows 'Junior' or 'Senior'?"
"Give me a moment," Remus said, taking it back.
"I think the more pertinent question is, leaving aside how a dead man can be here, how can he be in the same classroom as Moody?" Hercule said.
"That is indeed, disconcerting, Hercule," Dumbledore said. "After all, how have the students missed seeing him? Remus?"
"I need a few minutes," the werewolf said. "I once spoke to a Muggleborn whose family worked in computers about advanced spellwork when I was teaching last year. He compared some elements of spellwork to computer programming. He even said that, if one had complete control over a magical artifact through a password, capable of altering it, it would be what was called 'root access'. What I'm doing now is equivalent to that, reprogramming the Marauders' Map. It would only allow me, or the other Marauders, to do it. The password normally used is more like standard access."
After a few minutes, Remus looked at the map, before scowling. "Barty Crouch Junior."
"How the hell is that possible?!" Sirius demanded. "He died a year after he was thrown into Azkaban! I saw his parents come for a deathbed visit. I even saw Crouch Senior carry his wife past my cell, and she was already terminally ill, pining away for her son. I…" Suddenly he paled. The same revelation seemed to strike them all simultaneously.
"Sacre bleu," Hercule murmured, running a hand through his beard. "They may have switched! Polyjuice Potion! She was dying, and must have somehow persuaded her husband to switch her with her son! If this hypothesis is correct, anyway."
"However it happened, it seems that Barty Crouch Junior has escaped Azkaban," Dumbledore said quietly. "And it does put a disturbing new perspective on his death. Although he may have suffered a stroke on his own, his son may have delivered the coup de grace."
"And he's probably the one who put Harry's name into the Goblet," Sirius said with a low growl. "When he was brought in, I thought he might have been a hanger-on, in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't know for sure. But if he's here…"
"He must be masquerading as Moody," Hercule said, peering at the map with Remus. "Look at how he is positioned in the classroom, in a lecturing position. But Moody seems to be in the corner. Polyjuice Potion again, no? Keep Moody alive as a supply of hair for the potion. Professor Dumbledore…has Professor Snape experienced any theft of potion supplies, particularly those for Polyjuice Potion?"
"As it happens, a few nights ago, Professor Snape did report to me that he had a break-in in his rooms, and some supplies that could be used for Polyjuice Potion had been stolen. Sadly, at the time, he blamed Harry Potter or one of his friends."
"Snivellous would," Sirius said with a scowl. "The question is, what are we going to do about this?"
"The problem is, Sirius, is that if we go in and confront him, he may either escape to his master, or else Voldemort will change his plans," Dumbledore said. "For I believe Voldemort to be the one behind this. But at the same time, we cannot allow Crouch to run around unchecked. Incidentally, I must apologise, Hercule. You were suspicious of Moody, and I didn't want to countenance it."
Hercule nodded. "And I only had an instinct about him, not evidence, so it was understandable. Even so, the amendments Bagman and Baum made to the rules of the Tournament need to be checked. I will check them, in case Crouch is influencing one or both. The timing of those changes is too suspicious."
Dumbledore then looked at Sirius and Remus. "I understand your fears, and please know that I share them, in spite of appearances. But we need to handle this carefully, or else Harry may be in even greater danger. Knowing that there is a trap is the first step to avoiding it(1)."
"I hope you know what you're doing, Dumbledore," Sirius said with a scowl, "because you haven't really had much of a good track record where Harry was concerned."
"And I am trying to correct that, Sirius!" Dumbledore snapped. "Merlin knows I am trying!"
Remus interposed himself between the two wizards. "Our priority hasn't changed," Remus said. "We've got to keep Harry safe. And we can't do that squabbling."
Hercule nodded. "Well said, Monsieur Lupin."
That evening, in the Great Hall, with a certain sense of ceremony, Harry submitted to drinking Veritaserum, under the watchful eye of a tall, dark-skinned Auror by the name of Kingsley Shacklebolt. He then made his declaration about how he had not entered the Tournament, nor had he asked anyone to enter his name for him. It mollified most of Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, along with some of Durmstrang, though Karkaroff still looked sullen and sulky. After he made his declaration, Harry took the antidote, and returned to his seat for dinner.
Even so, he detested this attention on him. He may have proven his innocence, or at least lent credence to it, but even so, he knew that there were still whispers. Even with Fleur, her father, and Madame Maxime believing him, he felt he had taken away some of their glory. And he still had to compete in the Tournament.
He had support, at least. Ron had been turned away from a jealousy fit last night by Harry's words, and Hermione and Neville stuck by him without that. Cedric had managed to smooth things over with the Hufflepuffs, and Harry decided he owed him one. There were the Delacours, and some of the staff at Hogwarts (Snape and Filch being obvious exceptions), and of course Sirius and Remus, who were staying for a few days.
Harry sighed. This year, despite his intentions, looked like it was going to be one of the more eventful ones…
CHAPTER 10 ANNOTATIONS:
Against all odds, I have updated this story. I didn't intend to for a long time, and frankly, it will be some time before you get another one. Real life has gotten in the way, and while some fanfics may get updated in the meantime, most won't get updated until the end of June. Why? I have an opportunity to write for a company I really want to write for via a competition, and I need to clear the decks in the meantime. Please don't ask for any more updates. Refusal may offend.
On another note, yes, it's a bit contrived to have Sirius and Remus bring the Marauder's Map to Hogwarts. Deal with it. And there's a title drop in this chapter that you may have spotted.
The next chapter will go onto the Weighing of the Wands and Rita Skeeter.
Review-answering time! Bearmauls: You have a point. However, Harry's pride won't have him try to do anything other than his best. And I think the other Champions would be insulted if Harry just phoned it in, so to speak, especially Fleur (in this story at least, because Harry is in a relationship with her) and Cedric (who has faced Harry while playing Quidditch).
1. A quote from Frank Herbert's famous science fiction novel Dune. Easily one of the best of all time.