Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.
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A/N – I know, it's been far, far too long. There's been reasons. Good reasons even (including but not limited to, a new job, lack of writing motivation, sport and RL). All I can do is tell you how sorry I am and that I appreciate your patience. The good news is that it's now November – National Novel Writing Month – a time that in and of itself is a massive motivator that lasts for many, many months for me. Expect regular weekly updates. So, without further ado, on with the story.
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Muggle-Raised Champion
Chapter 28 – Running Into Some Hurdles
Sunday, 24 April 1995
Front Page Article of The Daily Prophet
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Boy-Who-Lived to Abandon Britain?
by Rita Skeeter
The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, has always been an enigma to the magical world. After the events of October thirty-one, nineteen eighty-one, Harry Potter was hidden away from us, deposited somewhere in the muggle world, apparently "for his safety".
We all expected him to return to us nearly four years ago to begin his magical education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but due to the very muggles who he was placed with, this did not happen. Instead, Harry Potter was left alone and abandoned by our government to fend for himself in the muggle world.
Finally, though, due to an irregularity with the Goblet of Fire, Harry Potter returned to the wizarding world to compete in the TriWizard Tournament as the Fourth Champion. Every piece of news since that day last November has indicated that The-Boy-Who-Lived has been living up to the expectations that we hold him to, advancing quickly through his studies and making a great number of friends.
Harry Potter's performance in the TriWizard Tournament, though, has been unconventional, to say the least.
He completed the First Task, a task that involved retrieving a golden egg from the nest of a female horntail dragon, by demonstrating that he speaks parseltongue, a skill that is usually the mark of a dark wizard (see page 5 for a recap of Harry Potter's performance in the First Task). And in order to complete the Second Task, Harry Potter paid a merman to retrieve his hostage for him (see page 6).
And now, as the Third Task of the TriWizard Tournament approaches, this reporter has uncovered the startling fact that Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, is set on abandoning Britain at the completion of the Tournament.
Where is he going? What about his education? What is he planning to do? These are all good questions that I know that you are all asking.
The answer, dear readers, is that Harry Potter is seriously considering going to a dragon reserve to learn to be a dragon handler!
It seems that the very skill that we find the most questionable about The-Boy-Who-Lived, the fact that he can speak parseltongue, is exactly what has caught the attention of the dragon handlers of the world. They've offered young Harry a contract that includes him completing his education while travelling around the world to work with dragons!
As far as this reporter is aware, no contracts have yet been signed, so there's still a chance, however small that may be, that The-Boy-Who-Lived may decide to complete his education at Hogwarts. I urge you readers to do all you can to encourage young Harry to stay where he belongs, within the magical community here in Britain, now that he's returned. To lose our icon after so recently having him returned to us would truly be a tragedy.
Be assured that I will keep you up to date on any decision that the Boy-Who-Lived makes in regards to his future.
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9:15am
Sunday, 24 April 1995
Office of the Minister for Magic, London
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"Is it true?" Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, snapped, slapping his copy of The Daily Prophet down on the table between his two subordinates.
Ludo Bagman leaned forward to find out what the Minister was referring to. His counterpart, Bartemius Crouch, on the other hand, didn't so much as flinch; it was obvious that he'd already seen the article in question and had been anticipating this very question.
"From what I was able to infer from Dumbledore's waffling, yes," Bartemius replied.
"You've spoken to Dumbledore already?" Cornelius asked, sitting back marginally in his seat.
"Not more than half an hour ago," Bartemius confirmed.
"And Dumbledore says that it's true, that Harry Potter is intent on leaving Britain for a dragon reserve of all things?" Cornelius asked.
"It seems that an offer has been made, but no contract has yet been signed. Dumbledore believes that it will not be signed either," Bartemius stated.
"He doesn't?" Cornelius asked hopefully. "Is he sure about that?"
Bartemius lifted his eyes upwards, a small frown appearing on his face. "He inferred as much, but when I pressed him, he did not give any reason as to why he believed that the contract wouldn't be signed."
Now it was Cornelius' turn to frown. He'd dealt with the wily politician enough to know that whenever Dumbledore used phrases like 'I believe' and 'it doesn't appear' and his old favourite, 'the greater good', he was simply speaking for the masses, without actually saying anything.
"Merlin's beard! So, it could still happen, we could still lose The-Boy-Who-Lived?" Cornelius stated. "Can Potter do that, though? What about the contract that he signed with us? Didn't we ensure that he'd become a well-educated member of society in order to retain his wand rights?"
"Well, yes," Ludo replied, looking up from the article, "but we never specified how or where he gained his magical education, simply that he had to complete not just his OWLs, but also his NEWTs."
"That is how we were able to get Mister Potter to Hogwarts even though he refused to become a student there at the same time that he was a Champion. Not to mention how Mister Potter was able to hire his own teacher for potions rather than use Professor Snape who is already at Hogwarts," Bartemius said.
"This, this cannot be allowed," Cornelius stated, slapping the article between the three men. "Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, leave Britain. Preposterous! The public'd burn us at the stake if we allowed him to leave. No. Whatever it takes, keep the boy from signing that contract!"
Bartemius and Ludo looked at each other, each hoping that the other had some idea of how to accomplish the task that they'd just been given.
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8:30am
Friday, 29 April 1995
The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
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The sudden influx of the post owls had Harry, along with most of the others at the Hufflepuff table where he was eating his breakfast, looking up. Dozens and dozens of owls of all types, sizes and colours winged their way in through the enchanted post windows before circling the Great Hall, looking for the recipient of the letter that they had to deliver.
Seeing no less than thirty zero in on him had Harry's head falling with a heavy thunk onto the table, barely missing his bowl of porridge.
"Six days," his muffled voice protested. "It's been six days since that blasted article. Surely there's something else newsworthy out there, isn't there?"
"Sorry, Harry," Susan said as she patted him on the shoulder, amusement clear in her voice. "But you're The-Boy-Who-Lived. Nothing is more newsworthy than that. We did tell you."
The rattle and clatter of the dishes and cutlery being landed on, combined with the growing noise of wing flaps brought his head up. Every one of the owls was vying for attention, each one glaring at their neighbour as they tried to get Harry to take their most important letter first. With a sigh, he reached out to the closest owl and began to untie the letter from its leg.
Thankfully, Susan, Hannah and a couple of the other closest 'Puffs joined in, just as they or their counterparts at other tables had done throughout the week in an effort to clear the table of the owls as quickly as possible.
Every day that week, dozens and dozens of letters had been sent to Harry. Monday was the largest, with just shy of a hundred letters all addressed to him. And every single one was from some witch or wizard who'd read that damn article and wanted to convey their thoughts to him.
Most were very flattering, imploring him to stay in Britain, to finish his education at Hogwarts (the very best magical school in the world, he'd been assured more times than he could count), and to be the British wizarding icon that he'd always been.
And then there were those who were very glad that he'd been given the option to leave. After all, someone who could talk to snakes was clearly a dark wizard and it was best to get rid of them as soon as possible. Most of this type had come in a red envelope and yelled at him for the entire Hall to hear – a most disturbing and startling experience for Harry who'd had no idea that such a thing was possible.
"No Howlers today," Susan remarked.
"Thank Merlin," Hannah whispered, although not quietly enough for Harry to miss.
"Hey, Harry," Wayne Hopkins said from the other side of the table where he was collating the envelopes into a neat pile, "this one looks important; it's from the Ministry."
Reaching over, Susan plucked the envelope from Wayne and turned it around.
"He's right," she said. "It's from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Here, best open it, it looks important."
Using his butter knife, Harry slit the seal and pulled out the parchment inside. His eyes bulged as he read the letter and then bulged further as he read it for the second time. Then, with a shake of his head, he dropped it to the tabletop.
Seeing Susan's eager inquisitiveness, Harry waved one hand, giving her permission to read it.
"What's it say?" Hannah asked.
"Harry?" Susan questioned.
"Go ahead," he sighed.
"To Mister Harry J. Potter," Susan read aloud. "We at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures cordially invite you to attend the next meeting of the Subcommittee for the Regulation and Monitoring of the Dragons of Great Britain, to be held on Saturday, May thirteen.
"The aim of this particular meeting is to discuss the numbers and breeding habits of the Dragons of Great Britain, in particular the Welsh Green. As the number of dragons within Great Britain has been steadily rising over the last forty years, there is a renewed interest in the establishment of a large reserve where the dragons of Great Britain can live where they would have more room. It is expected that this reserve would also aid in ensuring that the numbers of dragons within Great Britain continues to rise.
"As you have demonstrated an ability to speak with dragons, we at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would value your input. It is felt that someone who could speak to the dragons and translate between the two groups – the Ministry and the dragons themselves – would be incredibly beneficial.
"At the conclusion of the subcommittee meeting, we invite you to a private meeting with the Director the Department where we can discuss future job prospects with you.
"Looking forward to you owl,
"Gemma Caldwell
"Secretary for the Subcommittee for the Regulation and Monitoring of the Dragons of Great Britain."
"Wow, Harry! Are you going to go?" Wayne asked.
Harry shook his head. "No. I don't think I will."
"Why not?" Wayne asked. "It sounds amazing!"
"Yeah, but the problem is that it's a bribe," Harry replied.
"A bribe? What do you mean, Harry?" Susan asked.
"You've all seen how many letters I've been getting from people that I've never met, most of them trying to convince me to stay here in Britain instead of taking the job with the reserves," he said. Once those around him had nodded in acknowledgement, he continued. "Well, this is simply the Ministry's way of doing the same thing. I don't know whether it's because they want their icon, their Boy-Who-Lived to stay in Britain, or whether it's public pressure, but it amounts to the same thing. They're trying to get me to do what they want without asking me what it is that I want."
The nods around the table seemed very uncertain. Once again Harry sighed. He was sure that everyone here wanted him to stay in Britain as well, to become a proper Hogwarts student. The problem was, with all of this pulling from all of these directions, Harry wasn't entirely sure exactly what it was that he wanted anymore.
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2:10pm
Saturday, 13 May 1995
Subcommittee for the Regulation and Monitoring of the Dragons of Great Britain, Ministry of Magic, London
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"Any sign of him?" Mathilda Grimblehawk, the Chair of the Subcommittee asked.
"No, I'm afraid not," her secretary replied.
"Did he send an owl at least?" Mathilda asked hopefully.
"I'm sorry, Miss Grimblehawk, we haven't heard from Mister Potter at all. He didn't even reply to our initial invitation."
Mathilda grumbled to herself. She knew all that. In fact, she'd been asking the same question every day for nearly two weeks. And every day the answers were the same. The problem was that the subcommittee had been rushed into being especially for Harry Potter, but for Mathilda, she'd seen it as her golden ticket to get away from a desk and into field work a year or three earlier than she was supposed to.
Well, regardless of Harry Potter's participation or not, she was going to act as though the subcommittee was to continue, regardless of what she knew was likely to happen.
Spinning on her heel, Mathilda strode into the board room and took her place at the head of the table.
"I call this meeting to order …"
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7:30pm
Wednesday, 24 May 1995
Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
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What was left of the early evening sun disappeared as Harry walked between two of the great stands that ringed the Hogwarts quidditch pitch. Even after he emerged, it was only into deep shadow. Looking up and around, the only part of the stadium that was able to catch the sunlight was the top half dozen rows of the stands traditionally reserved for Hufflepuff House.
The fact that Harry was looking up and around instead of where he was going meant that he promptly tripped and fell flat on his face.
From where he lay sprawled on the ground, he twisted his body to see what had caused his fall. His look of annoyance promptly changed to one of confusion as he saw the tiny bush just past his feet. That confusion quickly grew as he noticed that the bush was only one of many, all planted in a long line.
Pushing himself to his hands and knees, Harry blinked in surprise as he found himself face to face with another line of tiny bushes.
Admittedly, he hadn't been to the quidditch pitch all that often while he'd been here at Hogwarts, but he was sure that he would have noticed if there were plants growing on it.
Quickly, he rose to his feet and headed after the other Champions that he'd been behind, being careful this time to watch where he was going and to step over the dozens of lines of tiny plants.
From the scowls etched upon both Viktor and Cedric's faces, Harry became even more positive that those plants weren't normally on the pitch.
"Good, good, you're all here," Ludo Bagman said jollily as the four of them joined him in the centre of the pitch.
Cedric and Viktor stood in near identical poses, their arms crossed tightly, glares on their faces. Fleur, on the other hand, didn't seem as fazed by the recent landscaping changes.
"Well, you're all here to learn what's in store for you this time next month," Ludo continued. "June twenty-four. That's when the Third Task will be held, right here in the Hogwarts quidditch pitch."
When no one spoke, Ludo assumed an aggrieved expression. "Oh, come on, don't be like that. You'll have your quidditch back after the last Task. I promise you that it'll be back in tip top shape, better than it's ever been and you'll never be able to tell that it was any different."
Slight nods from Viktor and Cedric, accompanied by a relaxing of their arms, granted the man a reprieve from their apparent anger.
"Now, I assume that you can guess what the Task is going to be having seen what we're growing here?" Ludo asked.
"Maze," Viktor grunted.
Harry looked around him and could instantly see that the Bulgarian was right. The tiny lines of plants criss-crossed the ground in a manner that suggested that it could only be one thing.
"That's right," Ludo replied. "Of course, it won't be as easy as it looks now. Madam Sprout assures me that she'll have the hedges a full ten feet tall by this time next month. And inside it will be dozens of challenges for you to face – enchantments; creatures of all manner; charms and, of course, a race against each other through the maze itself."
"'Ow will ze winner be determined?" Fleur asked.
"Ah, that's simple," Ludo smiled. "We will be placing the TriWizard Cup in the very centre of the maze. The first one to touch it, wins. Winner takes all – the Cup, the prize money, eternal glory for yourself and your school and of course, the title of TriWizard Champion.
"To make it fair, the judges have decided that the results from the last two Tasks will count towards this one. Therefore, you will enter the maze in the order of your points. So, Mister Krum, you will go in first, with Mister Diggory here twelve seconds behind, followed by Miss Delacour forty-seven seconds behind him and finally, Mister Potter five minutes and three seconds behind Miss Delacour."
Harry nodded. A maze. That wasn't so bad. Easy really. Especially when he had absolutely no intention of even trying to get through it. Not to mention the fact that he had no desire whatsoever of encountering any enchantments or creatures that were deemed appropriate for someone with seven years' worth of magical education. Even with this little amount of information, a strategy had already become evident, a strategy that would be made that much easier with the others having such a large head start.
"Well, then," Ludo continued, rubbing his hands together, "does anyone have any questions?"
Harry simply shook his head, an action that was being echoed by each of his fellow Champions.
"In that case, you can head back to the castle and I will see you all exactly one month from now at the Third Task of the TriWizard Tournament."
