Chapter 34 – Parental Consent

Amelia rolled over and stared at the ceiling contemplatively.

Given how much was riding on the Second Task, and that it was entirely possible (in her view, at least) that at least one of their students might die in the morning, she wasn't surprised that she hadn't had much sleep.

All over the castle, people were tossing and turning, and if she listened carefully enough she could hear the echoes of their dreams…

She glanced at her fiancé, who was snoring loudly. Sometimes, she thought, being a werewolf who spent three days out of every twenty-eight running around like a mad thing, appeared to come in handy.

Something – some small thing – was up with Hermione. She wasn't sure what it was. It didn't feel like a teenage tantrum, or even that she'd stayed up all night worrying about or helping Harry. It didn't feel dangerous, or life threatening, or like the horrible, sickening absence she had felt when her cousin had encountered a Basilisk. It just felt… odd.

Almost as if the girl was sick, sluggish – as if her very spirit was falling into the deepest of sleeps.

Of all the things that could possibly happen to a person in Hogwarts, this general feeling of a squashing of spirit was frankly disturbing. She well remembered her own formative years, and while she suspected that Hermione was a good deal more intelligent than Amelia ever had been, there were some kinds of trouble that anybody could run into.

Amelia resolved to track Hermione down as soon as the Second Task was over and have a good, long chat with her.

And if she doesn't open up, she thought, I'll just offer to brush her hair again.

Beside her, Remus mumbled something about puffskeins and rolled over. Amelia smiled and kissed his hair before getting up. It was still dark out, when she stuck her head through the curtains in the living room, and the stars were sparkling in a surprisingly innocent sort of way, given the day ahead. She wondered what they thought of them all, running around on the Earth as if humans were the most important things in the universe.

A slight popping noise made her turn to find a House Elf standing on the sofa, wearing the most eclectic collection of knitwear she had ever seen.

"Well, I'm glad that Hermione's hard work is seeing some use," she remarked, with a half-smile.

Dobby grinned.

"The other House-Elves are not so sure," he said, and Amelia nodded.

"It's so rude," she said. "But she means well."

"Dobby likes the hats," said Dobby, stroking the bobble on the top one. Hermione had even thought to leave spaces for their ears. "But the others would like Dobby to ask her to stop…"

"Not everyone is cut out to be a Free Elf, Dobby."

"No, Miss Amelia," he said sadly. "Freedom comes from inside. Dobby is happy as a Free Elf. They are happy as who they is."

"Quite."

The Elf grinned.

"Dobby has delivered 'the package'," he said, waggling the area that would have been eyebrows on anyone else, and Amelia laughed.

"Have you been watching my DVDs when I'm in class again?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Amelia," said Dobby, without a hint of embarrassment. "Dobby is enjoying them very much, particularly the ones with the please-men." He glanced around and leaned towards her. "Dobby spotted some of the other Elves watching too, but they think Dobby doesn't know."

He grinned.

"Dobby put it in Harry Potter's hand himself," he said, proudly. "Harry Potter looked relieved."

"I imagine he did," said Amelia. "Can I trust you to keep this a secret, Dobby? Even from the other House Elves?"

"Dobby doesn't think they would listen even if Dobby told them," he said, with a hint of sadness. "But Miss Amelia can trust Dobby!"

"Thank you," said Amelia, not knowing what to say to make him feel better. "Feel free to come up and watch films whenever you want."

"Thanks, Miss Amelia!" said Dobby, who then nodded to somebody behind her and popped back out of existence. It never failed to surprise her – it was different to the way Apparation worked, she thought, it always looked more like they were folding the world around themselves.

She turned to find Remus leaning against frame of the bedroom door, arms folded and looking deliciously tousled. He gave her one of those sideways smiles that made her heart skip a little.

"Some people would call that cheating, you know," he observed, casually.

"Well, when people devise a game that is less blatantly insane, I'll stick to the rules."

"As a teacher," he said, the smile sliding even further up the side of his face, "we should both abide to the rules."

Amelia raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mmm," she said, deadpan, "because we're both so good at that."

"You're a terrible influence."

"No argument," she smiled. "And while you were at school?"

"Sirius and James were terrible influences."

"And it had nothing at all to do with one exceptionally talented, highly intelligent, witty, persistent Gryffindor Prefect who never ever got caught?"

"Oh, I got caught," he said, slipping an arm around her. "They always just assumed it was Sirius's fault."

0o0o0o0

"Alright?" Sirius asked, having clapped Remus on the shoulder and given Amelia the kind of bear-hug she associated with Hagrid.

Their faces probably said everything, as he nodded briskly.

"Me too," he said, looking grim. "I wish they'd let me see him first…"

"You're lucky to be here at all," Amelia grumbled. "Crouch is overseeing the Task."

"Oh, goody," said Sirius, as Remus grimaced. "Remind me not to sit too near him."

"It's okay, we lesser mortals are up with the majority of the staff," said Remus.

"There a book?"

"Not this time," said Pomona Sprout, sidling up to them as the students started to trickle out of the Great Hall. "Black."

"Professor Sprout," said Sirius, with obvious delight. "I haven't seen you since our graduation party, when you got drunk on Damson wine and danced a tango with Poppy Pomfrey!"

He shook her hand and she cackled, happily.

"I'd forgotten that," said Remus, a look of astonishment on his face.

"How could you forget that?" asked Severus, who had materialised behind them with Filius and Poppy.

"I think I'd pay to see that," said Amelia, winking at Poppy, who smiled angelically.

"And you never will," she promised.

"It's a sight I have to say I have treasured," Filius twinkled.

They all shook hands with Sirius, warmly, except Severus, who loitered beside Amelia and merely nodded at him.

It was an improvement, she supposed.

Amelia watched the passing students as her colleagues reminisced. More than a few of them were staring at Sirius with open curiosity. They had spent so much of the previous school year in terror of the man that was gregariously winding their teachers up, looking effortlessly handsome and utterly unthreatening. After his exoneration, it hadn't been made widely public that he was Harry's Godfather, but she suspected that at least some of the occupants of the Gryffindor Tower knew. Doubtless, this information would be radiating outwards from the usual sources.

Glad that she had had the chance to get to know him better, she wandered over to the Weasley Twins and confiscated their suitcase full of bets. They glared at her and departed in high dudgeon; she miniaturised the suitcase and stuffed it in her pocket. While she wouldn't actually send it straight to Molly there was no way she would allow them to bet on something people might actually die from.

It just seemed so – and she hesitated to think it, even in the privacy of her own head – so very Slytherin.

She followed the students down towards the lake, pausing when she first glimpsed the water. She had to hand it to her colleagues, the seats ranging around the lake looked so professional and organised that if she hadn't already lived in the castle for a year and a half she might have believed that February swimming galas were a regular occurrence.

"Mildly sickening, isn't it," Severus asked, and Amelia made a mental note to steal his shoes and attach bells to them for the future sanity of the student body.

"I thought you were in agreement with Dumbledore," she remarked, as the wended their way down the hill. "I heard you thought hanging Harry out as bait was a good thing."

"A prudent thing," he said, quietly. "Not a good thing. While he is at Hogwarts we can keep him safe."

Amelia thought about this for a moment.

"Since he joined the school he and his classmates have been subjected to – to date –Voldemort living on the back of someone's head, a basilisk, a much maligned hippogriff, a suspected murderer, a happy-go-lucky werewolf – whom I love to bits, but who still had a bit of a moment last year – Blast-Ended Skrewts, a dragon, you and – today – Grindylows and mer-people," she said. "And we still don't know who entered him into this bloody contest – or why. That isn't safe. That's still-alive-by-the-skin-of-his-teeth."

Severus stayed silent and she suspected that he couldn't think of anything sensible to say. They climbed up to the top tier of the seating, away from the places reserved for the special guests and far from the students who, from the sound of them, were more excited than they had been even for the dragons.

"Personally," said Amelia, taking out her crochet, "given that they're basically going to be underwater the entire time I can't see the attraction."

"Show a little school spirit," Sirius teased her, with a wink.

She grunted.

"Oh no," Severus grunted. "Why isn't he in the reserved seating?"

Amelia found her wool deftly removed from her fingers and stuffed back into her bag.

She didn't have time to glare at Remus before Sirius barked a greeting.

"Ludo! What're you doing up here?"

"No, don't – oh, Merlin…"

Severus sank into the seat beside her, clearly unimpressed by this turn of events.

"He's not that bad," Amelia hissed to him, and stood up again.

Ludo was wearing his old Wasp robes again and exuding the kind of exuberance that Amelia associated with ten year old boys at the funfair. She could understand Severus's reticence – Ludo was more or less his polar opposite. She wondered what would happen if the two of them touched.

They'd probably explode, she mused, as Ludo climbed up the tiers towards them, and the resulting energy could power a small town for a year…

"Just surveying the troops!" Ludo shouted, happily, as he reached their level. "And making sure you knew that the full staff are in attendance," he added, grinning at Amelia.

"It's okay," she smiled back. "I've been warned."

"Ah, good," he said. "Not that I think you'd do anything – you know –"

"Give up now," Sirius advised, "while you still can."

"You take my crochet off me again and you'll live to regret it," she whispered to Remus as they leaned on the rail.

"Promise?" he shot back and she elbowed him lightly. "You'd never hear the end of it if he caught you not paying attention."

"He's the most oblivious person I've met apart from Crabbe and Goyle," she said.

"They're not so much oblivious as vacant," Severus remarked, from somewhere behind them; both of them ignored him.

"To everything except sport, I'll wager," Remus whispered.

"I'll see you all later – no doubt Potter will give us a fine show!"

"And Cedric and the others," called Remus, a warning in his voice.

"Oh, yes – of course."

"Might be a better show if most of it wasn't underwater…" Amelia grumbled. "Can I crochet now?"

"Not until they go in," said Remus.

Amelia glanced at him. In her annoyance she hadn't been paying enough attention to her lover; although outwardly affable, there was a level of tension to him that hadn't been present at the First Task.

She tucked her arm into his as Sirius and Severus attempted to make small-talk.

"You okay?" she asked, and saw his eyes flick towards her.

He squeezed her hand in unspoken thanks for the comfort.

"I can't stop myself looking for them," he said, softly.

"Lily and James?" Amelia guessed.

"Yes," he said, and she felt something of the heartache in his chest. "I was sure they would be here, somewhere, keeping an eye on things…"

"Maybe they're underwater," she suggested. "If I didn't have to breathe, that's where I'd be," she added, without thinking.

She glanced at Remus in time to see the flicker of pain cross his face.

"Sorry," she said, quickly, "I didn't think –"

"I'd do anything to see them again, just for a moment," he said, a little hoarsely.

Amelia pulled him closer.

"Anything?"

He looked at her, sadly.

"Well, not anything, no, but a lot."

"I know, love," she said, holding his arm tightly, aware that there were throngs of students below them and that they were in quite a prominent position. "I know."

He gripped her hand for a moment as though it was a lifeline.

"Did you tell Sirius?" she asked, in an undertone.

"No," he said, after a moment. "I think it would do more harm than good."

Amelia nodded. Twelve years in Azkaban, one year on the run and the loss of almost his whole pack had pushed Sirius as close to the edge as a person could get. There was no telling what seeing his dead best friends at a sporting event my do to his fragile sense of balance.

If her time at Hogwarts had taught her anything, it was that no matter how strong and capable the men around her might be, most of them were more vulnerable than they would care to admit.

She rubbed his arm and he leaned against her slightly, grateful for the contact.

"There they are," said Sirius, pointing down at the platform extending over the lake. He scrambled over the seats behind Amelia and leaned over the rail on the other side of Remus. Severus got to his feet and drummed his fingers on the railing beside Amelia, far more concerned about the students below than he was ever likely to admit.

"Who's with him?" Sirius asked, squinting.

"You spent all last year mooching around the grounds," Severus grumbled. "Surely you recognise them."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I know their names. I know what they smell like –"

"I don't – please," said Severus. "I'd really rather not know."

"That's Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan," said Remus, with an air of a man keeping the peace. "And Neville Longbottom."

Severus made a noise that could have been classified as derisive and Amelia trod on his foot.

"That was deliberate," he said.

Amelia gave him a Look.

"Frank and Alice's son?" Sirius asked, after a moment. Amelia recognised the haunted tone.

"Yes," said Remus.

"No way…"

"He's the one you stole the passwords off," Amelia added. "He caught hell for that."

Sirius had the good grace to look sorry.

"I'll have to make it up to him," he mumbled. "He looks so much like Alice…"

"Frank's height, though," Remus told him. "And, I think, their mischievous streak. They'd be very proud of him."

Sirius made a sound that Amelia chose to interpret as grief-stricken agreement.

"We'll just have to be proud of him for them," he said, when he could speak.

Amelia glanced at Severus, who – unusually – looked like he wasn't about to argue. She supposed it was harder to feel total indifference towards a person when the people around you were so emotionally involved.

Amelia watched as Harry searched the stands from across the lake, looking for his Godfather. Sirius must have spotted this, too, since he started waving like a maniac, nearly knocking all four of them over.

"Steady on, Sirius," said Pomona, settling in the row in front. "I know you're excited, but please try not to wee yourself back there. We all have to sit next to you for at least an hour."

Amelia laughed wholeheartedly, the sound surprised out of her. On either side of her, an otherwise respectable wizard was faking a coughing fit.

Harry had clearly spotted them. He pointed them out to the boys with him and all four of them grinned. The whole row of degenerate teachers grinned back, looking unapologetic.

"How's Cedric holding up?" Amelia asked, leaning over the railing.

"Not too bad, I shouldn't think," said Pomona. "At least this time it isn't dragons!"

"Amen," Amelia breathed, aware that by now everyone was probably sick of her complaining about the Tournament.

From the shore on the other side of the lake, they watched Bagman clap Cedric Diggory and Victor Krum on the back and point his wand at his own throat.

"That still worries me when I see it," Amelia murmured, and Remus glanced at her, puzzled.

"There's something about throats and how vulnerable they are," she murmured, still barely audible, but confident that his wolfish ears would follow.

He squeezed her fingers as Ludo Bagman's magically enhanced voice boomed across the lake.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely one hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; without looking at what the other champions were doing, Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, pulled something out of his pocket, stuffed it into his mouth and waded into the lake.

Both Cedric and Fleur produced beautiful, pearlescent globes that formed around their heads before they both, in almost perfect time, dived into the icy water.

"Nice," Filius shouted, proudly, from the row below them. "Bubble-Head Charm! Taught that myself!"

Krum, who was at the other end of the line from Harry, made several people gasp as he Transfigured the upper part of his body into a shark. He leapt enthusiastically into the water as though it was a pleasant sort of temperature and disappeared from view.

This left only Harry, who was shivering in the cold February air.

For a few minutes, Harry just stood there, waist-deep in the lake. Ripples of laughter pulsed through the crowd as the seconds grew longer and the boy did nothing.

"What's he waiting for?" asked Sirius.

Amelia wondered whether Dobby had stolen the right herb, though she knew both that the Elf was trustworthy and that Severus would have labelled every surface in his laboratory if he thought people wouldn't have looked at him funny.

Seized with a silent panic, she glared down at the boy, willing something to happen. For a moment, she was horrified that her panicked thoughts somehow had affected him as he clapped his hands around his throat.

He flung himself forward into the water, and after a couple of moments of thrashing around, vanished into the silent depths of the lake.

Amelia sighed in relief.

"That was Gillyweed," said Severus, with obvious annoyance. "The bloody sneak-thief! I knew he'd been at my store cupboard!"

"Actually," said Amelia, in an undertone, "that was me. I'll pay you back."

Severus's expression cascaded through anger, past surprise, wandered over to irritation and exasperation, made a quick pit-stop at resignation and settled into mild amusement.

"That's cheating," he hissed, close to her ear.

"Well, at least he won't drown," she hissed back.

He turned away, trying to pretend he wasn't chuckling.

To Amelia's surprise, Remus shifted and wrapped his arm around her, almost pulling her inside his cloak.

"What?"

"You, keeping him alive," he murmured, into her ear. "Doing what the rest of us should have been doing if we weren't all so focussed on a stupid game."

"Well, I suppose we sit back and wait, now," said Pomona, settling back into her seat. "Good thing we're not stuck with the delegates like Poppy and Minerva." She pulled a hip flask out of her cloak. "Fancy a nip, anyone?"

Most of them did, since it was so cold, and they arranged themselves on the back two rows of their section of the stands, feeling very much like the naughty children at the back of class.

"Is there no way of projecting what's going on beneath the lake?" Amelia asked, after a while. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm loving the brass band, but do we really have to sit through an hour of this?"

"An hour long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took, But past an hour – the prospect's black, Too late, it's gone, it won't come back," quoted Filius, and then pulled a face. "Just because something rhymes, doesn't make it poetry."

"Sounds like a hasty planning committee concoction to me," said Remus, with distaste.

"Less than an hour," said Pomona, with a sniff.

"What've they taken?" Amelia asked. Having ignored the whole process of the Tournament for months the most she knew about today's challenge was that it was taking place underwater.

"Something precious," said Pomona.

"What they'll 'sorely miss'," according to the bloody poem," said Filius, grumpily.

Amelia suspected that he's had to listen to the song over and over when he was enchanting the four golden eggs.

"I made up the potions," Severus offered, taking a swig from Pomona's hipflask and barely wincing at the burn.

"Potions?" Remus asked. With all the extra work he'd taken on in Hagrid's absence, he hadn't had much time for the Tournament, either. Although Hagrid had now returned to work, he had asked Remus to carry on and the two men were bringing an eclectic and challenging curriculum to their – by turns – astonished and relieved students.

The comment was clicking over in Amelia's mind.

"There are people down there?" She stared out at the dark water in horror. "My God, they must be freezing!"

"Actually, they're held in a form of stasis until they reach the surface of the lake," said Severus, with a hint of professional pride. "They'll neither feel a thing nor require heat or air. I imagine it'll come as a bit of a shock when they wake up, but I'm sure they'll manage."

"I hope you warned them before you slipped them the potion," said Remus.

"I imagine someone else did," his friend retorted, "thankfully, my services were not required for that part of proceedings."

"I should think not," said Pomona, chortling happily to herself. "Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired."

Everyone sniggered, except for Amelia, who had been following the initial thought through.

"I'm assuming they're all fellow students," she said, slowly, "and that the bit about the prospect being black is nonsense to get them fired up?"

"Yes," said Pomona. "I suspect so. There's no way we'd let them get hurt."

"Well, I hope whoever is organising it got parental consent before persuading underage witches and wizards to take a potion that puts them in a coma and keep them underwater for several hours." She missed the uncomfortable look that passed between Filius and Pomona and added, "I'm assuming they've been down there a while, so that everything could be set up."

"Since at least last night, I reckon," said Sirius. "If I remember anything about Hogwarts, the students around here are nosy buggers."

Filius coughed awkwardly, looking very much like he would prefer it if the subject could be changed. Amelia looked between him and Pomona, her heart sinking.

She glared at Severus, who was looking bemused.

"Don't look at me," he said. "I just made up the draughts."

"Amelia…" Remus began, probably coming to a similar conclusion as she just had.

"What's going on?" said Sirius, who had just had his turn with the hipflask and was attempting to look as smooth as Severus had a few minutes earlier.

"My cousin's in that lake, isn't she," she said, her eyes shut.

"Er-"

"That's what I thought."

"Mel…"

"She's fifteen," she snapped, opening her eyes again. "As a school we have an obligation to the parents and guardians of our students to prevent anything dangerous happening to them." She felt her anger rising. "If they are to take part in anything like this, then consent is not only a moral question, but a parent or guardian's right. Since my Aunt hasn't contacted me with any furious notes I am going to assume that she wasn't asked, either."

"Now, Amelia," Pomona began, but Amelia had lost her rag.

"No," she said, hotly, "I'm sorry, but you don't get to decide what happens to someone's child – that's far outside the role of in loco parentis."

"Amelia," said Sirius, feeling a little helpless.

"And for that matter, if anyone around here gave two hoots for these children's welfare, we wouldn't be allowing a fourteen year old boy to take part in a contest that everyone keeps insisting is designed for only those of age."

"Amelia," Severus had got to his feet. "Just –"

"Just what?" she asked, angrily. "We all know that if Harry's parents were alive, and if anyone would listen to Sirius for five minutes, this bloody stupid game would have been stopped as soon as he was entered. The fact that Ludo Bagman, Bartemius Crouch and a whole group of people who are supposed to be his teachers are taking advantage of the fact that he is an orphan is frankly, quite sickening."

"Mel," said Remus, and touched her sleeve. She pulled away.

"No," she said. "I don't want anything to do with any of you. Assuming my cousin and her friends don't drown, I'll see you all at dinner."

She stepped lightly out of the top row and swept down the steps, ignoring the puzzled glances of her students. She didn't turn back, even though she could tell that Remus was hurt.

How could any of them think that this sort of behaviour was acceptable?

It boggled the mind.

She pursed her lips, slipping between the trees of the Forbidden Forest and striding up into the hills, enjoying the fresher air of her hiding place. She would find somewhere quiet she decided. She needed to think. She needed to be away from the people she had come to think of as her family.

Even Remus had reacted as though there wasn't a problem with children being suspended underwater for hours at a time.

She hoped, for their sakes, that none of the Weasleys were under that cold, dark water, or Molly might murder them all.

She sat down in what might be a leafy glade in a few months time and wondered what the hell she was doing at a school where endangering students had become so commonplace that no-one batted an eye about it anymore.

Amelia drew her cloak around him, feeling totally alone for the first time in months, and concentrated on not being sick. Now that she knew what was going on she was having a hard time keeping a lid on her terror. She could feel all the water of the lake pressing in on her – her claustrophobia was tightening her chest on her cousin's behalf.

She held her head in her hands and waited for the feeling to stop – then she'd finally know her cousin had resurfaced safely.