HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! I know it's been a while but Valentine's Day is my second favorite holiday so I had to post today. Not to mention the fact that this chapter pushed Marauder's Daughter passed the 100 page mark which I'm super psyched about because I can't remember the last time I did that with a story or if I've ever done that. I hope y'all are doing well and that you like this chapter. And if you're alone tonight I hope you know that you are loved and appreciated because you are absolutely amazing.
Love,
Adrien
P.S. Sorry I haven't replied to your reviews yet, I wanted to post this but I didn't have time to reply to reviews and work on the project I also need to do tonight. I will reply tomorrow though.
Disclaimer: This sandbox does not belong to me, I wouldn't currently be going into debt to put myself through school if it was, no matter how much I wish it did. Said sand box belongs to the amazing J. K. Rowling and the parts of the text underlined like this come directly from Goblet of Fire.
Chpt. 12: Shouldn't Have Been a Surprise
She wasn't alone with any of her boys, she wasn't alone at all, for almost a week and it really shouldn't have been a surprise that he found her the first time she was alone. Her pack had all probably planned it and, honestly, she couldn't have been angry at them even if she wanted to. They were just trying to help.
"We're not going to put our names in the cup," Fred's voice is more tired than Hermione has ever heard it before.
"Why?" Hermione growls as she clenches her jaw in an attempt to keep herself from reaching out to him even though every instinct in her body is telling her to let this go, to forgive her mate, to hold him close and never let go.
"Because it would be selfish and we've been selfish enough these past few weeks to last the rest of our lives. I can't promise that neither of us will be selfish again and I can't promise that neither of us will screw up again because we probably will but I can promise that we will try not to. We will do everything we can to protect this family, to protect our pack, because we love you guys. And, Hermione, I love you more than anything. You're the love of my life and, more than that, you are my best friend. It's been hell without you but I understand now why you were so angry and I would understand if you couldn't forgive-UMPH!" Hermione tackles Fred, the tears she'd been holding back for weeks spilling down her cheeks as she molds her body to his, and Fred falls to the couch under her weight.
"I love you so much, Fred," Hermione sobs as both of their bodies relax for the first time in weeks, their souls reconnecting in the way only the souls of true mets can.
"More than anything," Fred's voice is mumbled by Hermione's unruly curls which he had buried his face in and refused to move from for as long as she would let him.
The two teens sat in silence for hours, soaking in the feeling of just being together after so long apart. They still had a lot to talk about, a lot to catch up on, but that could all wait because they were together and that's all that mattered to either of them in that moment.
"It's nice to see our resident love birds back together again," Lee comments as he flops down on the couch next to the couple, throwing his right arm across the back of the couch behind them and pulling a very subdued looking George down with his left hand.
"I am so so-," George starts.
"You were forgiven before you even did it." Hermione reaches out to to George, clasping his hand softly with her much smaller one.
George grins at her, the mischievous twinkling returning to his eyes after having been absent for weeks.
"What do you say to showing everyone that the Marauders are back together again? Hogwarts has been sorely lacking in pranks for the past few weeks." Lee grins at his three best friends, looking more happy than he had since this fight had begun.
The four teens rise as one, exiting Gryffindor Tower at the same time the rest of their pack (minus Draco) was entering.
"Don't cause too much trouble!" Daphne calls after them, genuine happiness shining through her voice for the first time in weeks.
"No promises!" The four chorus together.
"Lupa, it's time to get up. We're going to miss it if we don't," Fred's voice wakes her up the next morning.
"When did I fall asleep?" she asks groggily, rubbing her eyes as she stretches her stiff muscles.
"We both fell asleep while the potion was brewing. Lee and George finished it and took it down to the kitchens, breakfast's going to be served soon." Fred grins at her, holding out his hand and pulling her to her feet when she takes it.
"Let's go see our handy work," Lee and George chime in unison, wide smiles spreading across both their faces.
Lee links one arm through Hermione's and another through George's before taking off at a brisk skip, giving the other three Marauders no choice but to follow considering he'd taken two of them captive and the other's hand was linked with Hermione's.
"We're off to see the wizard, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," Hermione sings as the four marauders skip down the stairs, drawing confused looks from the twins.
Lee, on the other hand, belts out, "We hear he is a whiz of a wiz, if ever a wiz there was."
Hermione laughs, grinning widely at the older boy and the two continue the tune the rest of the way to the Great Hall:
"If ever a wonderful wiz there was, The Wizard of Oz is one because
Because, because, because, because, because
Because of the wonderful things he does
We're off to see the wizard,
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz."
By the time they reach the Great Hall, the twins have got the tune down and the four Marauders are drawing as much attention to themselves as they always do (which in turn draws smiles from a majority of the people currently eating breakfast, glad the four friends had managed to get past whatever fight had separated them for the past few weeks, considering how quiet and sad the school had been for the past few weeks).
"So what trouble did you four get into last night?" Harry asks with a relieved grin stretching across his face as Hermione plops down beside her best friend.
"You'll just have to wait and see." Hermione grins back and kisses his cheek before digging into the food that someone (most likely Fred) had placed in front of her.
Harry huffs goodnaturedly before going back to his own food.
Hermione couldn't hold in her laughter when she saw Angelina's face begin to take on the features of a lion. Her laughter froze in her throat and her breath left her body, however, when she toward her best friend whose face was looking more feline by the second. "No," she whispered in absolute horror, drawing a confused look from Harry.
"What? Isn't this your big prank, isn't this what's supposed to happen?"
Hermione opens and closes her mouth in an attempt to answer him but the fireworks lighting up the ceiling with the words "Presenting your possible champions!" answers his question for her.
"Oh." His eyes flicker up toward the words and back toward his best friend's face. "You know I didn't do it," it's a statement because he can see in her eyes that she's worried for him and that she trusts him completely.
"We'll figure out who did." She sees the rest of her pack nod out of the corner of her eye as she pull her best friend into a tight embrace.
Hermione doesn't leave Harry's side for the rest of the day (not that she'd have to considering they had identical schedules) and when the names start flying out of the cup after dinner, she can't even take pride in the fact that their prank went off perfectly with each champion lighting up in their school colors as a crown forms on their head after their name is called by Dumbledore. She doesn't even breath as her right hand clasps Harry's just as tightly as he is clasping hers and her left clasps Fred's even more tightly.
"CEDRIC DIGGORY!" The Hufflepuff lights up, a golden crown forming on his head as he rises from his seat, and Hermione lets out a sigh of relief.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.
The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —
"Harry Potter."
Instead of freezing like she had earlier, anger and protectiveness overtake her. Someone was out to get her pack and she would find out who it was if it was the last thing she did but her best friend needed her right now. "We're in this together, Harry. I'm not letting you do this alone."
"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
"Come on, Harry," she murmurs as she pulls her best friend to his feet, shooting the rest of her pack a warning glare to stay where they are because they are safe. Their pack isn't in any immediate danger and all of them going up their would give away their secret.
Harry tugs at her arm, drawing her chocolate gaze to his familiar emerald orbs. Both best friends relax as they give each other matching smiles of comfort because they can do this. As long as they're together, they can do this. They stride as one up to the front of the room with their heads held high in a confidence neither of them actually felt until they came to a stop in front of Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.
"Through that door, Harry," Dumbledore states, gesturing toward the door all the other champions had gone through. "Miss Lupin, if you would kindly take your seat."
"I will do no such thing. Harry didn't put his name in the cup and until we find out who did, he will be going no where alone," her voice takes on the alpha edge that had only ever come out once and that was when she, Harry, and Neville were fighting their way toward the Sorcerer's Stone in their first year. Her eyes pulse with power, her hair crackles around her face, and Dumbledore has no choice but to submit. Though the confusion in his eyes as the next words come out of his mouth tell her that he has no idea why he is saying what he is:
"Very well."
"What was that?" Harry whispers as they make their way toward the door.
"I don't know for sure but I have a theory but I'll explain that later. They're going to question you Harry and, even though you're telling the truth, none of them will believe you so you're going to have to make them believe you. You're going to have to swear on your magic that you didn't do it and that you didn't ask an older student to do it for you," she manages to whisper back before they enter the room.
Harry nods, his trust in her shining brightly in his eyes.
"What is it?" [Fleur Delacour said from her place with the other two champions in front of the fireplace, drawing both Harry and Hermione's attention toward her.] "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"
Before either of the teens could answer or any of the champions could comprehend that Harry was wearing the same crown as the rest of them, Ludo Bagman burst into the room. Bagman went to grab Harry's arm but a quick dodge from Harry and a sharp glare from Hermione stopped him in his tracks.
"Extraordinary!" [he exclaims.] "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. Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"
"Hold your tongue! Harry is more of a man than you are a woman. He has dealt with more in his life so far then I hope you have to deal with for the rest of your life. Stop whining to your headmistress like a child and let us handle this situation like adults," Hermione spits out in rapid fire French, drawing shocked looks from both the French women in the room.
"And just who are you to be speaking to your elders like that, who are you to even be here at all," Karkoff growls, glaring harshly at the young girl (though the look of disgust Krum shoots his headmaster when he speaks has Hermione liking the Bulgarian boy a little bit more).
Hermione feels her magic crackle around her once more as she glares back at the older man, her more animalistic side pushing a vow out of her mouth before she can even comprehend what she is doing let alone stop the words from coming out of her mouth (not that she would have any way), "I, Hermione Jean Lupin, claim Harry James Potter as my brother in magic. I swear to stand by his side for the rest of our lives. Where he goes, I go. What he does, I do. When blood fades, our magic will remain twined together as one." Hermione turns toward her brother in every way that matters, "Do you accept me?"
"I do and I, Harry James Potter, promise to protect you in everything you do. I will stand by you until the day we die, our magic forever intertwined. Where you go, I go. What you do, I do. I, Harry James Potter, claim Hermione Jean Lupin as my sister in magic. So mote it be." Harry's eyes never leave Hermione's as the words flow from his mouth though both teens have to close their eyes against the light that flashes from their joined hands when Harry finishes his vows before Harry tugs his sister into a tight hug, knocking the newly formed crown from her head.
"Do you have any idea what you just did?" McGonagall gasps, a look of horror contorting her face.
"You don't call me the brightest witch of my age for no reason, professor. My brother didn't want this and now that he's being forced to do this, there's no way in hell that I am letting him do this alone. People die in this competition, the numbers are against every champion. Now that our magic is intertwined, Harry has twice the chance he would have had going into this alone." Hermione stands tall, daring everyone in the room to speak against her decision.
"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "[Two champions would 'ave been unexceptable but three!] 'Ogwarts cannot 'ave [three] champions. It is most injust."
"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, [a] steely smile [is now 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 [though Hermione couldn't help but notice that malice wasn't pointed toward either herself or Harry (alongside the fact that he completely ignored her being a champion, like her being underaged was fine even if Harry being there wasn't).] "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?" he asked calmly.
"I, Harry James Potter, swear on the magic of myself and my sister, Hermione Jean Lupin, that I did not put my name in the goblet nor did I ask anyone to put it in for me. So mote it be."
As one, the two teens raise their wands and recite their favorite incantation: "Expecto Patronum!"
Both teens also take delight in the looks of disbelief on every adult's face as they watch Hermione's wolf chase Harry's Stag around the room before disappearing through the door everyone had used to enter the room.
"Mr. Crouch . . . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our — er — objective judges. Surely you will 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 much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.
"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book 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 reignite 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 from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward 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."
[Hermione] could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.
"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 [three] bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards —"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter [and Lupin]," growled Moody, "but . . . funny thing . . . I don't hear [them] saying a word. . . ."
"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money — zis is a chance many would die for!"
"Because I could bloody well die, you dolt! And worse, so could my sister! Have you been listening?! I didn't put my name in this bloody cup. I don't want this. I don't need the money, I've got plenty of it considering the fact that I am sole heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. I don't need fame, I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived for christ sake. As for the honor behind this...let's just say having someone out to kill me kind of kills any sense of school spirit I might have." Hermione had never seen Harry so upset, so fed up with this world they were supposed to call home. If her magic hadn't been on the line as well, she had a feeling that he would have given up his magic then and there to be away from all this bullshit.
"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, [drawing the shocked crowd's attention to himself once more]. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. [Cedric, Harry, and Hermione by default] 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 honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.
"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes . . . the first task . . ."
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, [Hermione,] Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "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 of any kind from 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?"
"Let's get out of here, the rest will be worried," Harry whispers in Hermione's ear as he tugs her toward the door.
Hermione nods and follows her best friend's lead.
