Whispers in the Night
Disclaimer: I'm just playing in JKR's sandbox and make no money from this. Please enjoy the story and feel free to leave comments and critiques, it's the only way to get better at this. I'm writing this story for my own enjoyment.
Content Warning: This story will contain mentions of abuse and scenes containing but not limited to swearing, violence, smut and other Adult Content.
Author's Note: 1. If you really thought I was going to end this whole story with that last chapter, shame on you! 2. If anyone spots my flipping enormous references this chapter, or from the last chapter, please call them out. I love seeing people catch on to what I'm doing now and then. 3. I'm having way too much fun with these chapters. But I'm definitely gonna slow down. I have to rejigger the following few chapters to accommodate changes I made throughout fourth year and especially in this chapter.
4. Recommendation: Search Harry/Daphne, Harry/Susan, Harry/Tonks, Harry/Fleur stories that are above 40-60k words. I developed most of my love for those pairings, and Harry/Tracey, from stories written before 2015 that meet those requirements.
5. Enjoy the latest chapter and let me know what you think!
Ahh… Ahah. Ahahaha. Ahahahahahahaha!
Chapter Fifty: Fire and Darkness
The entire audience was wrapped up in the adventure the champions embarked on together. From one challenge to the next, one monster defeated only to encounter the next obstacle, it was a riveting display of magic for them all. The fact that all four champions worked together was hardly a detriment. On the contrary! Many saw the cooperation between champions as a treat, just as much as they had during the second task…
But then everything changed when the cup whisked the champions away and the screens went black.
Many expected them to show up right on stage, all ready to cheer and applaud their champions for a shining example of magic and cooperation. But it never came, their champions never returned. Seconds passed, then minutes, and soon the Headmasters, family members, and Ministry Officials began to question what was going on. Bagman and Jorkins were doing their best to explain the phenomenon to little avail.
Amelia was already on the war path with Sebastian, Amos, and Veronica, Krum's mother, on her heels. They wielded considerable influence and power, and they were going to get to the bottom of what was happening one way or another. The tracking charms that had been on the champions since entering the maze had washed away and the magical screens that had targeted them and their magic to allow the audience to witness their acts of bravery were blank and empty, unable to lock onto their targets. Whoever, or whatever, had made the champions disappear had used some form of magical dissolution and concealment spells to achieve that. The crowd was growing restless, almost on the verge of riot as the officials continued to argue behind privacy wards. But in the chaos that threatened to overwhelm the Triwizard Tournament, despair quietly crept its way in.
Amelia felt it first, a stab to the heart, a tear in the very core of her being as a life suddenly vanished from her senses, from her magic. She stilled at first, shock almost catching her before she set a hand on her bracelet and shook her head quietly. She rushed away from the officials to the infirmary tent, looking for any confirmation that she was wrong. What she found, however, was a truth she was unwilling to face.
Poppy sat in a chair, her eyes filled with tears, her wand slack in her hand as the bond between Master and Apprentice had been severed ruthlessly. The magic, the person she nurtured so quietly in her student, her grandson, was suddenly gone. Andromeda was hardly better. Her own magic pulsed with the loss of the Lord of her house, her family, and she barely supported herself with her hand on Poppy's chair.
Dread washed over Amelia the moment she heard the tent open again. Tonks and Susan led Tracey and Daphne, each already sporting quiet tears of despair and disbelief. Alastor and Bill followed them, concerned and confused as to what they had all sensed. The moment they caught sight of Amelia, Poppy and Andromeda, they knew. There could be no other truth now. Amelia did her best to hold in her tears, but they had already begun to fall when the words fell from her mouth and brought their world crashing down.
"Harry… he's dead."
***Riddle Family Graveyard***
The moment that rotten bastard had conjured fiendfyre, Fleur knew there was no chance to get to Harry until it was gone. So she bided her time, helped Cedric and Viktor back to their feet and used what rudimentary skills she picked up around Harry to treat them, not that she could do much or that they needed a great deal of healing. Junior had been exceedingly efficient, though hardly brutal. Bludgeoners to the stomachs and a wave of wind to toss them away. Throughout the tournament they had forgotten just how quickly a duel could go, given the students were showing off their skill as much as trying to outdo their opponents, and Junior reminded them rather brutally of that fact.
Barty had disabled them long enough for the Death Eaters to gain the upper hand when the champions had needed it most. The champions watched helplessly as Harry was beaten, then forced into a ritual. It took everything Fleur had not to rush in and try to save him. When Harry had altered the ritual, the champions practically cheered, hoping that whatever change he had invented would be enough to alter the course of the evening…
It wasn't.
When Harry practically begged them to leave with his silent expressions, all of them stood steadfast and ready to act. Fleur had to be held back when Voldemort tortured Harry, put him on display and worked to change him through words. Each of the champions tensed and prepared to die fighting to get to their friend if that's what it took as the duel between Harry and Voldemort was about to begin. When Harry broke free of that levitating prison and fought back, destroyed everything and everyone around him as much as he could, the champions began to prepare their escape route. With any luck the Triwizard Cup would allow them to portkey right back to the school to warn everyone what was going on. Their traps laid, their wands ready, the three Champions prepared to storm forward at a moment's notice as they held their ground and hoped Harry would reach them.
When Harry began to whip his magic about at everyone not Voldemort, to some degree of success, they thought the time had come. Their wands shone brightly with magic as they fired everything in their arsenals to get their friend and get home. They fought hard, kept the Death Eaters as busy as possible as Harry fought his hardest to get back to them, to survive. But then everything came crawling to a halt as brother wands fought.
The sight before them, the golden dome and the specters of the dead gave everyone pause. Fleur even believed she saw Lily Potter of all people wink at her. That couldn't be, that woman was long dead but there the redhead was, as stunning as ever even in the afterlife, encouraging Harry and the champions however she could with what subtle means were available to her. Whatever was going on, great and ancient magics were at work, and neither the Champions nor Death Eaters knew what to expect.
As Harry and Voldemort entered the final throes of their furious duel, Fleur's heart clenched as she watched one spell after another bring Harry low and bind him down. Her heart raced as she prayed for him to make it out alive. She prayed someone would show up, her parents, Amelia, Alastor, Tonks, Bill, anyone that might be able to stop this. As Harry burned brighter than ever before and stared up at Voldemort, Fleur shook her head, pleading with magic and the goddess herself to let anything but what she feared happen.
"Hello Tom."
"Avada Kedavra!"
It was impossible. One moment Harry burned with a fire to outshine her own. One moment his viridian flames seemed ready to melt the chains and burn the world. And in the next moment the fire vanished in a swish of silver smoke and the love of her young life fell forward with a grace only found in death. The world froze for her, her heart broken and shattered as she witnessed the man she had come to love die at the hands of a monster.
"And so ends Harry Potter."
And for a moment, Fleur swore she felt the hearts of the others break inside her as well.
"'Arry… Non… non it cannot end like this. 'Arry! 'ARRY!"
The moment Fleur made to vault the graves she, Cedric and Viktor stood behind, the strong hands of her friends grabbed her and pulled her back. She screeched, her magic and her blood bayed for the death of everyone down there that she deemed responsible. The world would burn for taking what she held most dear from her and the others! There would be no escape! Only blood, death, Fire and Darkness!
"Fleur! Stop it Fleur and listen to me!" Cedric yelled through his tears over her screams as she tried to fight him and Viktor off, hearing nothing of what happened with the Death Eaters. "He's gone Fleur! Harry's gone! But he wouldn't want us to rush in and die! Just stop and think for a minute!"
"Non! I'll kill them! I'll end them all! I'll burn their world to ash! Let me go, Cedric! Let me go!"
"We have already lost Harry, we cannot lose you as well, Fleur!" Viktor barked as tears trailed down his cheeks. "Do not make us bury two friends tonight!"
"Then help me kill them!" Fleur screamed at them, her body glowing with power as her instincts took control. "Help me tear them apart and feed them to their own children! Help me BURN THEM ALL!"
Her transformation was already well on its way: Fleur's skin burnt like fire and her jacket had already split as wings burst forth from her back, shining silver and gold. Unlike the veela at the world cup who had transformed into furious, hag-like creatures, Fleur bypassed that form altogether in her utmost, heartbroken fury. Her features sharpened, but stood out with beautiful hatred and rage as her eyes glowed with blue fire. If any looked upon her, it was surely then that the legends of Valkyrie were proven to come from veela, for she seemed a goddess of vengeance, fire and rage, ready to burn all in her path even as the world desired her.
Cedric and Viktor's hands burned as they tried to hold her hands, to keep her from fighting and it was only that pain that drove out the desire to serve and fight for her. It took all of their strength, their will, but the two young men held onto their friend and forced her to look at them.
"He wouldn't want us to die here, Fleur!" Cedric pleaded with her. "He wanted us to run! To Survive! We have to go!"
"I'm not leaving him!" Fleur screamed at them. "I promised!"
"We have to go, Fleur!" Viktor stormed at her. "Now before they can kill us as well!"
"I'm not leaving him!" Fleur commanded once more as she stod as tall as she could, floating a few inches off the ground as she prepared to destroy everyone she deemed responsible for Harry's death. "Not in life or in death, I'm not leaving Harry to them! I won't let them desecrate the man I love!"
"Fleur… Harry's already gone," Cedric barely breathed as he stared up at her. "He's left us behind and he wouldn't want us to die just to bring his body back… He'd want us to live. Harry would want you to go back to Susan, Daphne, Tracey and Tonks and make them happy where he can't anymore. Please, Fleur..."
Though her rage abated, her angelic form of hatred, power and fire did not. Her wings, spread wide for so long, closed in around them as she looked to the ground and descended to it once again. Tears of pearl shed from her fiery blue eyes before the flames faded and the ocean blue irises looked to her friends, all the pain, regret and despair in the world written there for them to see.
"I promised to bring him back…" Fleur barely whispered. "They're going to hate me… W-What, what am I going to tell them?"
"We." Fleur and Cedric looked confused as they turned to Viktor, his dark eyes staring at both of them before they focused solely on Fleur. "We are going to tell them. You will not be alone, Fleur. Now or ever. We will get back home and we will tell them how he fought and died. How he sacrificed himself to buy us time as he tried to escape with us. But we have to go, now."
Fleur stared at Viktor for some time and when he nodded, she turned to Cedric. Both boys, crying as many tears as she was, nodded again to affirm they would not forget Harry, and they would never leave her alone. Laughter reached their ears, jeers and torments as the Death Eaters reveled in their Lord's victory over the body of a dead man who had been his supposedly greatest enemy. The laughter only served to fuel their anger, their fury, and the magic whirled around all three champions as they determined their course.
If they were to run, they would take as many Death Eater with them. And if they were lucky, insanely lucky, they might even kill Voldemort while at it.
"Ahhh!" the suave voice of the Dark Lord finally called out. "The veela in full form! Are you angry, Mademoiselle? Are you fueled with hate and suffering now that your precious boy is gone?" Harry's body was raised in the air then cast back into the shadows carelessly by the Dark Lord's power. "If you join me now, swear fealty to me, I will let you live!"
"Never," Fleur proclaimed, and it seemed her voice filled the world as her eyes once more blazed with blue fire. "You killed 'Arry, and for that I will destroy everything you have before I let you die."
Voldemort offered a mocking smile as he advanced forward, the shields that had defended the area upon the Dark Lord's victory fell once again as he slowly approached the champions. "Such fire and spirit, such beauty, wasted… And what of you, Diggory, Krum? Is your loyalty to a dead man really worth your lives?"
"You know nothing of loyalty," Cedric barked, yellow magic spinning around his wand. "You'll never be half the man Harry was."
"I stand with Cedric and Fleur, and with Harry," Viktor proclaimed as purple magic surrounded his hands. "You are a waste of life, Voldemort, and we will see your doom."
"A pity…" the dark lord drawled after a few moments quiet. His Death Eaters jeered at the champions for a few moments before the Dark Lord raised his hand to silence them. "Then your fate is clear. Tonight, you will join your beloved Harry Potter in death and see what your love, loyalty and friendship get you…"
For a while it was quiet, empty even. Up and down, left and right, hardly any of it mattered. Just the darkness, the everlasting, breached only by a breath of silver.
Take pride lad, you and I, we survived, it's what we do.
The words echoed in the darkness as the silver mist rose even higher, beginning to fill his vision.
But my team needed me and I was going to fight it with everything I had so I could help them.
The fog thrummed with energy as the world filled with it, as his body and mind hummed in response. It began to swirl about him, to fill him, to fill the void that he visited once before. He breathed and a tint of green echoed throughout the silver mist. Shadows echoed the green fire as it swirled about him, bursts of it exploding all around him as the words of his past echoed in his mind.
It is a world worth looking and fighting for, for all of us.
Nothing will tear us apart. Not even death.
If it meant seeing them again, there's nothing I wouldn't do.
Once, twice, three times the silver mist encroached on the darkness until all was shrouded in the depths of the fog. It roiled and bubbled, coiled and frothed before finally it swelled and burst as more magic than ever before flooded through him.
Cries of agony pierced the night. Screams of pain, fright and shock whipped about him until a single curse was cast and the screaming screeched into a brief roar. A wet thud struck the ground and soon, two more thuds followed it as a man crumpled to his knees. Hurried whispers rushed through the night until one voice rose above the others.
"Impressive…" the voice seemed to drawl. "That wand will require further study." All was quiet until magic bloomed in his senses and a new arm shaped from silver came into being. "Better than ever, Selwyn. My apologies for the loss of your arm. Apparently the Bones family are darker than anyone ever thought. That will require further investigation… For now, keep an eye on the wand… It's time we show Potter's friends he is truly dead."
His body, battered from torture, battle and revelries, was relieved of its weight and gravity's hold as he was lifted into the air. His body scraped along the stone and grass lightly as Voldemort spoke until he was lifted in the air. The chink of chains was absent, and when Harry was flung across the graveyard to land in the shadows near Selwyn, he remained limp and unmoving.
After all, playing dead had saved him once before.
The conversation between Voldemort and the Champions set Harry's heart apace. They were alive! He thanked whatever strange kind of luck guided him that night, because his friends were alive and willing to fight to survive. If he could have, he would have smiled at them, told them to fight to their very last breath and then keep fighting.
"Flint, keep Selwyn company, make sure he doesn't destroy the wand," Voldemort's smooth voice intoned quietly. "Barty, fetch the boy's body. I wouldn't want to lose my prize to these children should they try to take his body back."
Harry almost wished he could smirk. Junior in close proximity? It was practically a dream come true since the man had his gear. Just a few moments alone and hopefully the man would have a slit of red across his throat. For a moment, worry and concern washed through him before he tossed it aside. No, these men and women had chosen this fight. They had chosen to kill him and his friends. Therefore they had already chosen death, he was just a little late in giving it to them.
The soft footsteps stopped a short ways away, too far in Harry's opinion. A dull thud signaled that Harry's effects were dropped just next to the man. The fact that Barty was facing him, however, was what made it worse. His magic clearly felt the man leaning in and crouching down nearby, but just far enough out of reach where Harry couldn't touch him yet. It infuriated him, to be so close and yet so far, but it seemed Barty had other ideas.
"Oh you were a clever one, Harry…" the man sighed regretfully. "Bertha and Bagman, they watched you so very closely whenever they could. You had talent, so much more than we thought… A shame, really. I rather liked you in the short time we met. A complete stranger and you saved me from death or insanity… Let them all doubt Gryffindors, and healers, and the like… We knew better, didn't we? Learning the healing arts when we could? You for survival or whatever other reasons you have for it, and me for power… Half these fools owe me their limbs if not their lives after your attack and that of your friends earlier."
The man snorted disdainfully. "And they'll never acknowledge that. Never acknowledge the power a Healer has over their lives… Like you. Though I'm no healer, just a man with a lot of magic in his mind for the use it provides. But you, you held their lives in yours hands so often, and you gave yours in the vain hope to escape and see your friends live, it seems. Such a waste… Such a bloody waste. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
The shift in stance had Harry tense in anticipation. He could feel Junior turn away, but everything he heard he wondered if it was a ruse. Why talk to a corpse? Regret? Quite possibly. In any case, his chance was now or never, and Junior was the first on a long list of people Harry needed to kill. The words Harry heard from Alastor so often when working the man rang clearly in his ears as he slowly took a hold of his knife without making a sound.
Never let them see you coming.
Draped in the darkness of his own magic, the fire of Harry's eyes glittered in the light as he leaped up as silently as ever. The Raven Shroud cloaked his movements and with a sudden leap he was on top of junior. Harry forced the man to the ground, smashed a fist against the man's wand hand to make him drop it, pinned Junior beneath him and raised the ivory dagger even as the shroud blocked them from all senses and detection.
"Hello Junior."
The man's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen. As quick as a flash his hands stopped Harry's bare inches before the blade sank into his chest. Junior looked over to Selwyn and Flint, both oblivious to what was happening even as Harry put more of his weight behind the blade. It sank lower, closer and closer to his flesh as it began to pierce the brown longcoat Junior wore that was cut like butter by the enchanted blade.
"Harry, please! Don't do this! Don't become a murderer!"
"I'm not murdering anyone," Harry whispered to him, a fervent look in his eye. "I am a Healer. I will live with life and death every day and know that I will only ever give mercy in my embrace. I'm not being a murderer. I'm being kind to someone foolish enough to throw their life away for him."
Fear, fear unlike anything Junior had ever felt before, even faced with the prospect of Voldemort, froze him in place as he looked, really looked, into the eyes of Harry Potter. There was such belief and conviction! A calm certainty only a true believer would have in the face of death. Harry was certain that death was the only answer for anyone that dared threaten his life and the lives of his friends, and Junior had fallen into the category of those who would be treated to Harry's mercy.
It was absolutely terrifying.
"Please! Harry! Don't!"
"Shhhh, it's okay, Junior, you'll see your mother soon," Harry murmured to him, as if comforting a dying man. "She'll smile and laugh and bring you into her warm embrace. Just accept that you're already there and it will all be easier for you."
The pressure of Harry's dagger increased, and Junior could feel the blade begin to cut into his flesh before he pushed back. There was only one option left, and if anything Junior knew it would play into both of their hands, at least for a time. For him, for them, the will to survive would outlast all things.
"You and I both know the only way for those three to get out of here alive is for you to reach them. Killing me won't help you!" Junior hissed at Harry, his gaze boring into the calm, ruthless stare that looked back at him. "You need me! You know the ministry will try and bury the evidence he came back; but you can plant the seeds of doubt in other ways, can't you?!"
Silence reigned for a moment, but the blade never moved and the pressure never eased as Harry judged the man beneath him. "I'm listening."
Junior whispered quickly to the young man, certain that the boy was listening but fearing the inevitable descent of that blade into his heart. In Harry's mind, Junior deserved it, but when the quick quiet whispers passed in less than a minute, Harry pulled the dagger away and Junior breathed a sigh of relief. It was a momentary alliance, one of convenience and necessity only. Junior summoned Harry's coat, vest, shirt and satchel and the teen quickly got ready as best he could. He slung the satchel over his body and stuffed the clothes into it. Sure his longcoat would have offered protection, but at this point nobody, not even Voldemort, would use anything but killing curses on him if they saw him.
"My life for theirs tonight… I'm glad you took my deal," Junior sighed, his hands shaking at the near death experience. "And yet I still owe you my life from before."
"Maybe someday I'll collect on that debt," Harry growled as he twirled his knife and prepared his assault.
"You better. I don't like owing debts," Junior stated clearly. "You have three minutes before I have to join the fight. Otherwise it won't be believable."
Harry stared at Junior for a moment before he whipped around slashed his knife across the man's shoulder before he slammed his fist into the man's jaw, sending him instantly to the ground in pain. "Now it's believable."
Junior laughed in pain within the darkness of the shroud even as it spread through the graveyard. The chase through the cemetery had gone further out, but it appeared the Death Eaters were playing with his friends, hounding them, forcing them into one spot from multiple sides. The Champions wouldn't last long, not without help. Hell, even if Harry did help, he wasn't sure they could still make it out. How the hell could he do anything to get them out?
But should you know your surroundings well enough, you can turn the very world upon your enemies.
The voice was a gift from the past, and Harry's dread turned into a satisfied smirk. It would take only moments for him to know his surroundings. Already his shadows extended throughout the graveyard to the very edge of the wards. It was the second half, however, that inspired him. He had tested it only a few times before, his project being an extension of it, and changing it was all a matter of a subtle shift in purpose. Now he could turn magic and the world upon his enemies, he advanced on the first two that would find their night ended quickly.
His wand laid between two men, one's foot suspiciously itching toward it with every moment. Harry noticed the silver arm and smirked. His magic continued to flood out of him, silent and swift, shadows darkness deepening in the night as Harry crept closer. Flint moved away, winking at Selwyn as the man seemed to go take a piss in the darkness. Selwyn, however, eyed the wand and his foot raised to destroy it.
Without fear or doubt, without regret or hesitation Harry summoned the wand to his hand, his connection to it as strong as ever as it soared through the air and into his hand. Selwyn's foot met the ground with a thud that was soon muffled by a cloak of darkness deeper than the Death Eater had ever experienced. Harry slipped the dagger away and with his free hand, covered Selwyn's mouth as he dragged him back to the ground.
No remorse was on Harry's face as he held up the wand to the man's eyes and whispered in his ear. "Let's finish what you started. Never take a Healer's wand or you shall find their mercy swift and relentless."
Harry jammed the wolf-head of the hilt against Selwyn's head and the man's muffled screams echoed behind Harry's hand as the magic of the wand swiftly went to work. The man's own bones were killing him, shooting out of his body like spears before retracting and appearing elsewhere. The silver arm flailed uselessly until it stopped as the ribs tore apart Selwyn's insides before they burst from his chest, his heart skewered on the ivory bones that stood in a gruesome display of death.
When all was said and done, when the man stilled and his blood pooled about him, Harry tossed the man aside and felt his wand radiate with power as what was left of Selwyn flopped to the ground, boneless and empty. He would have to thank Amelia for the hilt. He had learned of it and his dagger's true magic from her in secret, and now he was never more thankful for them, except for when they reminded him he still had family and friends waiting for him.
Cloaked in shadows, Harry slipped his wand away, drew the knife again and approached Flint, who was just shaking off the last of his piss. Nothing held Harry back as his hand cover the man's mouth and the blade went low, severing the aging manhood of the death eater with one quick slash. Another swift thrust, however, had the blade embedded deep in the man's ribs, straight through his lung and right into his heart for good measure as Flint gasped in agonized terror, unable to shout for help as Harry strangled and bled him dry all at once.
"Your life or your son's when I get back to Hogwarts, you decide," Harry offered the man as he forced the man to his knees when Flint wobbled. The man shook his head, thinking it impossible before Harry whispered again. "May the son outlive his father's mistakes and never repeat them. Lest the Most Ancient and Noble House of Flint shall live… Nevermore."
The proclamation was enough for Flint, and with a twist of Harry's ivory dagger, the Raven felt his enemy die. He struggled for breath, his eyes bulged and when the blood of his heart escaped, it was already over as Flint slipped into shock. Harry waited only moments to be certain before he withdrew the blade, and with it came even more power than it carried before, much like his wand as the boneless body of his enemy flopped to the ground. He couldn't help the dark grin that slipped across his features as he wiped the blade across the man's cloak and cleansed it completely.
As he looked about, ensuring he had yet to be noticed and that his friends were still alive, Harry sighed with relief at the sight before he was struck with awe. Fleur flew above the cemetery like a vengeful angel. Fire rained from her hands and wings in equal measure as waves of magic blasted away any spells that neared her. She was powerful, deadly, relentless… and beautiful. His heart cried for joy at seeing her alive at all, but seeing her in this state kindled a fire in him.
His magic washed through the area, the shadows deepened throughout the entire graveyard more and more as Harry prepared the field of battle, for a Shield always made the field of battles theirs before destroying their enemies. This was the end of this battle, one way or another, and he would make sure of it. He would end it on his terms and no others, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.
He would end it all with Fire and Darkness.
Between his hands viridian flames built as shadows shrouded him from view. His magic warped the world itself to his bidding and it seemed to show even in the battle. The Champions defended harder, fired their spells more accurately while the attackers were slower in their assault and unable to see clearly, and all the while Harry built up as much power as he could between his hands.
"Ruin them," he murmured to himself. "Burn and destroy all in my path."
As fast as he could, Harry burst from the shadows, vaulted onto a grave and leaped as hard and as far as he could toward the one person responsible for all of this. The blazing flames in his hands roared with power and Harry smashed them into the darkness he had created, and the robes Voldemort himself wore.
A massive blast of green flames exploded into life. Death Eaters screamed in pain and the Dark Lord himself roared in agony before smoke drifted off of his form and he finally looked upon his attacker. His eyes went wide and before he could do anything Harry had drawn both wand and dagger and slashed with all of his magic, might and conviction. The weapons gouged deep furrows in Voldemort's flesh even as Harry leaped into action again in a mad rush for the headstones and his friends.
Chaos screamed throughout the cemetery as the fire spread and Voldemort hissed in agonized rage. Harry sped between the headstones, his feet carried him as quickly as possible until he slipped past a set of shields and threw himself against the base of a statue that blocked another killing curse meant to end him once and for all.
Harry looked to Cedric and Viktor as both of them turned their wands on him before they froze. His older friends stared at him with wide eyes as the healer apprentice smiled.
"Hello boys. Miss me?"
Their jaws dropped, but they weren't the only ones. Fleur descended from her perch in the air and fire ringed her feet as she landed with a grace befitting the vengeful angel she had become. Harry's gaze was instantly drawn to her and when jade met sapphire it was over. Fleur rushed to him, her arms searing hot but inviting as they wrapped him in a hug before she backed away and kissed him fiercely. Not one to argue, Harry returned it as much as he could before they parted when the night flared green once again as the statue rumbled and cracked behind him.
"POTTER!"
"'Arry! You're alive! If you hadn't died once tonight, I'd kill you myself," Fleur breathed, her chest heaving with every panted breath. Her hands wandered his body as her eyes searched his, begging, pleading for this not to be a cruel dream or illusion as her hand gently touched his face with loving caresses. "Why… How…?"
"I'm alright. I promise I'll explain everything I know when we get home," Harry told her as he cupped her check with one hand, an act she instantly nuzzled into as if it was the only thing on earth that kept him alive, just as he clung desperately to the sound of her voice and the feel of her own hand upon his cheek. "But we need to get out of here first."
"POTTER!" Voldemort roared again as the sounds of chaos dimmed all around them. "I killed you myself! How are you still alive?! That's not possible!"
"Not probable!" Harry corrected him smugly as he continued to radiate magic and shadows. Harry handed over stimulant potions to the champions and they quickly downed them before Harry slipped the empty vials away. His friends actually managed a brief grin at his response to Voldemort as their renewed hope and energy prepared them for the second half of the worst fight of their lives.
"You died! I felt it in my wand and magic! You died, Potter! You couldn't have come back from that? It's impossible!"
"Ohhh then that's two impossible things we've seen tonight, eh? How about we try for three?"
"Stop playing games, boy!" the Dark Lord roared over all gasps and murmurs of his Death Eaters. "I killed you! There was no way back from that for you! Tell me how you survived!"
Harry couldn't help but chuckle, his jade eyes full of mirth even as he answered. "Riddle, you Magnificent Bastard, I read your book!"
Silence was the only answer to that enigmatic answer, which only told one truth among many. Harry new the rage was building, the endless fury of a wounded pride and body was growing with every moment. If they didn't get out of here soon, they would all be dead. After everything his friends had fought through, had lived through, he was going to get them home whether it cost his life a second time or not… Hell, who was counting? Harry took a deep breath as the silence continued before Lucius' screams suddenly echoed throughout the shadowed courtyard.
"The cup?" Harry asked urgently, knowing their time grew shorter by the moment.
"Useless. It gave us a way to portkey here but not one back. They thought of that contingency at least," Cedric answered bitterly. "I've got it shrunken down in my pocket just in case."
"The question is how they managed to alter the portkey at all," Viktor growled.
"Winky the House Elf," Harry muttered absently as the shadows continued to roll off of him. "Junior was a distraction for her to alter the cup with a contingency enchantment hiden beneath its residual magic."
"How the blazes did you figure that out, 'Arry?" Fleur questioned him abruptly.
"Junior told me because there's only two ways out right now," Harry responded more seriously as he looked toward the village, though he noted the confusion on the other's faces. "He owed me for sparing him when I was about to knife him. He still owes me for the world cup but that doesn't matter right now. We need to reach the boundary, smash through the wards and apparate out of here, with one of you taking me along since I can't yet. That's the most likely route of escape."
"We figured as much," Viktor announced darkly. "However, they are slowing our progress to keep us inside and give themselves time to circle around. Our traps have kept them at bay, but not for long."
"Fuck me," Harry growled.
"Thoroughly, I assure you," Fleur purred somewhere between playfulness and anger at their current situation. "But later. What was the other way?"
Harry held up his wand sheepishly. "I make a desperate call to a particularly helpful bird."
"You're right, we're fucked," Cedric sighed as he rolled his injured arm. "We can't last much longer. There are dozens of them and only four of us. Not to mention the Monster."
"Voldemort is a peasant with the power of a kingdom," Fleur explained bitterly as she glared over Harry's shoulder and her wings glowed brighter. "Any one of his spells could break through our shields, but he's toying with us, drawing it out."
"Four of us, huh? Well guess what, I'd take the four of us over any army anyone could throw at us any day." Cedric, Viktor, and even Fleur smiled at the encouragement Harry offered them. It was one of his own personal truths and Harry was glad to share it with them. "Well Voldemort won't toy with us any longer now that I'm alive and he's wounded, quite heavily at that," Harry said as he sensed movement all throughout the cemetery as they whisked their way through his shadows. "We need to go, now: Straight toward the village, my shadows will cover us."
As they shifted in their stances to run, Fleur took Harry's hand and drew his gaze to hers. "Promise me we're all getting out this time."
Harry offered her a small smile and squeezed her hand. "Count on it."
Fleur smiled brilliantly for a moment, then her eyes glazed over with Sapphire fire and her hands weaved circles through the air. With a final thrust of her hands and a scream of rage, a wave of flame leaped in all directions. Taking that as their signal to move, Cedric, Harry and Viktor made a mad dash out as Fleur flew alongside them, her feet barely touched the ground as she glided low along with them, each of them casting spells as if their lives depended on it, which they did.
Spells hounded their every move and forced them to dodge. Around and even over headstones the champions dodged and weaved, dove for cover and returned fire as best they could in their rush for the exit. Harry had just rolled to his feet when Cedric pushed him out of the way… and the darkness all about them fled from bright red flame as Cedric cried out in agony.
The snake that erupted from the flames made for a second lunge only for blue and green flames to answer it, forcing it away for only a moment until it vanished. Instantly snakes writhed along the ground around the entire cemetery, weaving like vines through fences as they surrounded the graveyard with immutable finality.
Harry dropped to the ground next to his wounded friend, his magic washed away the fiendfyre attached to his robes as fast as possible. Only when Harry vanished the flames and reached into his satchel did he see what happened. Cedric's entire arm, the arm Harry had bandaged not even an hour ago was gone, consumed by the fiendfyre of Lord Voldemort himself.
Spells rained on their position and Harry felt his side get sliced open wide by a dark burning cutter before he raised a shield to defend himself and Cedric. As Bone breakers rushed in from the left, Viktor leaped over the headstones and took them himself. The sickening crunch of broken bones echoed from his hand and ribs, yet the man was relentless as he fired howling winds of ice and magic at the enemy before he raised a barrier. Fleur made the earth erupt in another ring of fire around them all before she too raised a barrier and all of the champions' shields glimmered in the air around them as they took a defensive stance.
"Harry… they… my arm! They took my arm!"
"I know! I know Cedric, just… hang on, alright?! Just keep your eyes on me, alright! We have to keep you from going into shock." Harry had witnessed a lot of wounds before, but the loss of an arm to the most diabolical fire of them all? It shocked him to his core, especially because his friend would now only have one arm for the rest of his life. Harry bandaged the cauterized wound and shoved a calming draught down Cedric's throat, unwilling to do more until they got back to Hogwarts for proper healing… if they got back to Hogwarts at all.
"Surrender, Harry!" a furious Voldemort called out from amongst the flames. "There is no escape for any of you! Surrender now and we may spare your lives!"
"They're not sparing us," Cedric panted as he looked to his friends, the calming draught already quite in effect on him. "Leave me, I can distract them and Fleur and Harry can part the fiendfyre long enough for all of you to get away."
"That is not happening, Cedric," Viktor barked lowly as he set a steadying hand on his friend. "We are not leaving you behind."
"All for one," Fleur began.
"And one for all," the three boys answered with a light smile before they turned grim.
"So this is it, huh? The one armed man, the quidditch star, the femme fatale and the boy-who-refuses-to-die about to meet their maker, eh?" Cedric attempted to joke as he held his wand as if it were his last hope.
"No." All eyes turned to Harry, though his were closed as the shadows deepened around them and his wand glimmered silver and viridian. "We're going to survive if it's the last thing I do."
The three older champions were about to start yelling at him when phoenix song rose from Harry's wand. The night seemed to still for a moment, even as Harry waved it in intricate, flowing patterns. Honestly they meant nothing, not to him, not to anyone, but it was the song that the wand kept singing that mattered… As a part of the wand called out for its creator.
Brilliant red and gold flames flashed into existence, singing a song of such purity it outshone even that caused by the golden dome from earlier that night. Harry smiled, hearing the song and looked at the phoenix before him in earnest. If ever there was a time he hoped the phoenix could read minds, it was now. Fawkes trilled once again and set itself on Cedric's shoulder, crying into his bandaged wound to ease the pain and work some healing ahead of time.
Show those fucking wankers you won't go quietly. End it on your terms or not at all.
A dark smirk crossed Harry's lips as he felt his shadows encompass every bit of the graveyard. They had their way out, now all that was left was to send a message; a message they would remember to the end of their days. Harry was to turn the world upon his enemies. As Viktor and Fleur took the phoenix's tail feathers at Cedric's suggestion to imitate the blonde hufflepuff, Harry gave the phoenix one look as he touched it with one hand and coiled the other in the air.
"You're so good at eating death, right? Then eat this."
Harry snapped his fingers and green flames leaped from his hand into the shadowy shroud that covered the entire graveyard. It latched onto every death eater like mud even as the shadows suddenly burst into flames. The champions witnessed only a moment of the magical cataclysm, but the cries of terror and despair told them all they needed to know as the magic erupted in an explosion that rocked the very earth beneath their feet.
The champions felt it for only that moment and witnessed the parting gift of their victory, or defeat, or whatever had come of that night. As the fire swelled as if ready to swallow the whole world and erupt as great as any volcano, the champions were washed away from the hellish graveyard in a flash of red and gold fire only to appear moments later in the quidditch stadium where this night of hell had begun.
Confused silence captured the crowd before they cheered. Even so, the four champions stood shoulder to shoulder in a circle, searching the area for any threats after the first battle in what no doubt would be a long war to come. Fire and Darkness shrouded their feet but that only spurred them to be brave and endure. Their wands twitched to and fro, a spell on each of their lips even as they panted from exertion and pain from all of their suffering that night.
"Harry! Fleur! Cedric! Viktor!"
Their names had rarely sounded so sweet in the champions' ears. The voices that called out to them were one in a million, and they would know them anywhere. Fleur's wings vanished as she let out a quiet sigh, almost a whimper as they merged again with her back, and the grimace of pain on Cedric's disappeared as they looked for their family in the crowd. The rush of their families and friends outpaced that of the Ministry and the crowds waiting to congratulate or question them. Even then, however, the night was far from over.
"The Redoubt," Cedric growled hurriedly as Harry wrapped an arm around his waist and put the older boy's good one over his shoulders to support him. "Let's get to the Redoubt."
"Safest place in all of Hogwarts," Harry agreed, understanding his friend's fear of being anywhere else just then.
Gasps and cries of shock and horror made their way through the crowd, stopping them short as Harry helped Cedric away with Fleur and Viktor covering them as Fawkes trilled and weaved his way above their heads. Cedric's missing arm was clearly apparent and Harry's scars shown as clear as day before everyone. All of their wounds, in fact, bore the scrutiny of hundreds, thousands even. The Champions' families and friends stopped in an instant at the sight before Poppy rushed forward as Andromeda made her way back to the infirmary tent.
"What happened?!" Poppy asked stiffly, as if refraining from showing all emotion besides the red in her eyes and cheeks.
"Not here, Poppy," Fleur insisted kindly. "We'll explain at the Raven's Redoubt, where we can be safe."
The Matron nodded and swiftly followed Andromeda before both witches came out with satchels and followed them closely. Harry, Viktor, Cedric and Fleur remained clumped together, even among their friends and family as they hurriedly made their way away from the arena. Aurors and LEO's rushed to stop the crowds from following, no doubt at Amelia's command. Wounded, battered, beaten, scratched and exhausted as they were, the Champions made good time back to the tent. The moment everyone the champions would like to see were within the wards, Harry activated the lockdown and made sure none but they and their auror detail could get or remain inside.
"Turvy!" Harry called out once they were inside the tent as he supported Cedric and moved toward the table. The elf appeared an instant, his eyes wide with wonder. "Hot water, potions and bandages from the infirmary, now please."
"Right away, Master Harry."
Even the elf seemed to have been crying, as the elderly little thing stared at Harry for a moment longer and stopped himself from reaching out to Harry before he popped away. Cedric was just about to put a leg up on the table when Poppy circled it and transformed it into a rather large hospital bed with nary an absent wave of her wand. Cedric smiled at her for a moment until he groaned in relief as he sat upon it.
"What happened?" Poppy stated more seriously, though still in a calm voice that hid any torment she might have endured earlier.
"Fiendfyre devoured his arm up to the shoulder when he was… saving my life," Harry explained in a slightly choked voice before he regained control. He looked at his friend while he vanished the bandages on the stump and Cedric looked to him in surprise. "Don't think I'm not grateful for that."
Cedric managed a brief chuckle at that even as he refused to look at his parents, Fred, George or Luna and focused solely on Harry. "Gave up an arm to save a brother; can't argue with that kind of deal."
"I'll pay you back… somehow," Harry promised solemnly as he pulled out the disinfectant. "Won't hurt a bit, promise."
"Fucking liar."
Cedric grinned, as did Harry as they remembered a rather better time that evening before the apprentice applied it to the wound as tenderly as possible. Cedric growled and grunted in pain, forced himself to remain as composed as possible before Harry readied him for diagnostics. As Harry brought his wand to bear, however, Poppy set a hand on it and lowered it.
"No more magic from you, Harry," the healer insisted sternly. "On the bed, now."
"But Poppy-"
"Now."
Harry stopped cold, realizing in that moment he was far more afraid of his master's ire and distress than he was of Voldemort in some ways. Of course, he fully knew what Poppy as capable of and that gave him reason to fear the woman's wrath. Without hesitation he nodded and followed her command, though he refused to hand over his wand as he tucked it back into its sheath within easy reach. He sat next to Cedric, and beside him Fleur filled up the rest of that side. Viktor, however, settled on Cedric's other side, as Poppy seemed to have expected them not to leave one another's sides if they could help it and had made the bed large enough for all of them just for that reason ahead of time.
Their families, however, would wait no longer. The four champions were quickly mobbed by their loved ones, hugged and kissed to within inches of their lives. Questions were asked a mile a minute before Poppy sent a cannon blast into the air and glared at them as Andy stated the champions needed to be treated first. That quickly had the families instead rearranging the furniture to set up a semi-circle before the champions as Kingsley, Dawlish, Proudfoot and Scrimgeour managed the tent's entrance and the ward boundaries.
Poppy, Andromeda, and Hannah worked in peaceful quiet as they tended to the champions. Despite all of the questions their loved ones had, they wouldn't be answered until the Healers were satisfied. Cedric was tended to first, as he had the most grievous injuries. Fawkes helped all the while, dabbing at wounds with his tears, especially Cedric's charred stump and the dark slash wound on Harry's side. Viktor was taken care of second as he had multiple broken bones in his left hand and more than a few broken ribs besides. Fleur and Harry had their most notable wounds tended to before they were left to Hannah's watchful gaze as she began diagnostics.
"Madame Pomfrey, I've never seen readings like this before," Hannah said as she waved her wand over Harry again and again, thinking she had done the diagnostic incorrectly. "These don't look normal. Am I doing it wrong?"
"Let me see… No you're not doing it wrong but…" The whispered in the room seemed to go silent as Poppy trailed off. The experienced healer weaved through her diagnostic spells in moments, the same readings appearing before her. "I haven't seen anything like this either except…"
Poppy's eyes widened, her free hand covering her mouth in an instant before it fell to the base of her throat. "No, no that… that can't be unless…" Her gaze sought out Harry's, and after a few moments, Harry met it and slowly nodded even as Fleur took his hand. "Unless what we felt earlier really was true… You died."
Harry could barely look her in the eye for some of the shame he felt before he offered the barest of grins. "I got better…"
Despite the seriousness of the moment, Alastor snorted only to cover it with a cough at a glare from everyone else in the room, especially Poppy, Andy and Minnie. Of course, he wasn't the only one getting a glare, as Fleur, Tracey, Tonks, Susan and Daphne all had their eyes fixed on the impossible young man before them. Amy's gaze flickered from one to the other, unsure who she should be more upset with despite any glimmer of humor and relief that bubbled in her gut at hearing Harry's classic dark humor.
"This is not the time for black humor, Harry," Amy rebuked him as sternly as she could manage.
"Well… I am a Black."
"Stop it! Stop it right now!" Susan finally burst as she stormed forward. She was held back only by the timely intervention of Tonks as the older woman leaped up and held their girlfriend tightly. "You died, Harry! How can you just sit there knowing that? How can you just sit there and joke about this when we thought…"
Harry's gaze lowered to the floor in an instant, shamed and guilt-ridden by the effect he'd had on those he most cared about. It was tactless, maybe even harsh, but it was how he'd forced himself to deal with it once before. He hadn't thought once about if anyone else would feel it, but when he raised his gaze, he realized all of his soul mates, Amy, Andy, Poppy and Ted, maybe even Alastor at least had been party to feeling him die, to feeling him torn from magics that bound them together as family or partners.
"You mean, you felt it?"
"Yes," Daphne finally spoke up, her gaze boring into his. "We did. Your family felt it more keenly but something inside Tracey and I cracked when it happened. We felt it through our magic. We felt you die, Harry."
"At least you did not have to watch it," Viktor stated clearly. His gaze locked onto the four young women who glanced away from him, only for all of their eyes to land on Fleur. Viktor frowned lightly as the veela clenched Harry's hand before he looked to Cedric, who nodded in solemn understanding. "We were not so lucky."
"Nor did you have to live it," Harry chipped in with a shudder before he shook that feeling of shame off for it to be replaced by the guilt of letting them down, or worrying them, of dying for them. "I'm sorry, if there was anything I could have done…"
"Cut the shit, all of you!" Alastor barked as he stepped up beside the champions, his grim visage twisted in anger. "If our lad here could have stopped himself from dying, then by magic he would have done it. So don't any of you dare make escaping death any worse for him, got me?!"
"But, Moody- Alastor, Harry died!" Tracey argued lightly.
"And he came back!" roared the grizzled old bastard, causing everyone to flinch away from the man as he stared them all down. "I don't care how Harry died so long as he died fighting on his terms! I don't care how he died because he survived and came back! Don't you ever shame him over this or I swear your arse is mine! Dammit! I oughtta-"
"Alastor."
His name was spoken so softly, and with such reverence, the man stopped mid-tirade for one of the few times in his life. His eyes, both eyes, turned to Harry as the boy sat quietly between his friends. Whatever Harry had gone through was going to take time to deal with, for all of them. Harry knew it, hell, they all knew it, and Alastor knew it best of all, what with how familiar he was with loss and death. The two men met each-other's graze and with a slow nod from Harry, the old man deflated some.
Alastor grunted at the look before he rounded the bed and plopped down behind Harry. Without question or hesitation, the man took out his flask, took a swig and offered it to the boy behind him. It spoke volumes of Alastor's trust in Harry for the man to let Harry have his back as well as his flask. Warmed by that knowledge, Harry smiled at the offer and slowly took a sip despite the protesting glances from the healers and Amelia.
"Mind if they have some?"
"By my count, you lot have earned it," Alastor answered Harry, his eyes looking from one champion to the next before they settled on Cedric. "That and a lot more."
"Cheers, Moody," Cedric answered briefly with a small grin.
Cedric made to reach with his left hand but stopped and scowled as he realized the limb was gone before he took the flask in his right hand and swigged back the liquor within quickly. He handed it to Viktor, who mimicked the act before they passed it back over to Fleur. All three boys smacked their lips lightly at the rather mellow but distinguished flavor, rather impressed it didn't burn nearly as much as they thought it should. Fleur, who just finished her drink, almost sighed in delight before she handed it back to the professor.
All was quiet in the tent for a while as Poppy and Andromeda continued working, Hannah having taken a break after the news of Harry's albeit brief demise. The fact that Harry died lingered in the air, but there he was, alive and well beyond all expectations. After a few moments, it was Amelia that stepped up and summoned a chair from nearby to sit in as she sat in front of Harry and took his hand.
"How?"
"Killing curse, right to the scar," Harry answered as clinically as possible, as if he were stating a diagnosis, which for all intents and purposes he was for Andy and Poppy.
"So you died… and you came back?" Amelia wondered gently. Her hand found his, and Harry squeezed it tightly, his eyes closed for a moment before they opened and jade met shining silver.
"Nothing could to stop me from getting back to all of you," he answered more emotionally. His voice cracked briefly before he reined himself in. "Not even death."
Amelia let out the briefest huffing laugh as she remembered those very words. She wondered if it was a vow that brought him back, but that was wrong. No simple vow could defeat death. So what was it?
"How are you handling this so well?" Amelia finally asked him instead.
The room seemed to go even quieter, if that were possible, as Harry looked at her. For a while it didn't seem like he was going to answer until he swallowed down whatever held him back.
"Because it's not the first time I failed to survive…" Alastor huffed, about to say something before Harry cut him off. "It's not the first time I've died."
Amelia trembled with agony at the thought that Harry had died before, though she wasn't the only one. Some of them guessed it was when he was in the Dursley's care, but others weren't so sure. Amelia held his hand all the tighter, and Harry returned the gesture as he gave her as much strength as he took from her presence. That he kept this secret was an issue for another time, but she supposed it was one of Harry's darkest secrets, perhaps his greatest.
"When?"
"Second year," Harry admitted before his gaze shifted over to Poppy. "Of course, when your veins are filled to the brim with basilisk venom and phoenix tears diagnostic spells don't catch onto much other magic."
Poppy closed her eyes and swore silently to herself. She should have known, but there was no way she could have. His readings back then had been astounding at best and chaotic at worst. She had discerned that he was filled with a volatile mix of the most deadly venom and most potent healing agent in the world respectively. One alone would have thrown off readings, but both had made a jumble of everything. She'd had to resort to rather mundane means to diagnose him aside from treating him with potions and spells back then. His blood and body had adapted to both over the years but traces of both still lingered within him.
"How?"
"You know how I said I killed the basilisk and got hit with the fang, Fawkes treated my wound, thus curing the poison, then I stabbed the book with the fang and that was it?"
Amelia nodded shortly, aware of the events of second year, much like many others besides the other parents in the room and perhaps Fleur. "I take it there's something else?"
"Tom showed me mercy," Harry muttered, remembering kindly the moment the memory of Tom Marvolo Riddle had ended his suffering. "I was dying, Fawkes had been forced to flash away or get crushed by the basilisk's body. I knelt down next to the book, stared up and… Tom ended it before Fawkes could even reach me. I took a killing curse, right to the scar, just like this time. There was nothing and then… magic unlike anything I felt before. And cold… a beautiful cold that told me I was alive. I woke up to fire in my veins. I did everything I could not to scream as I played dead before Fawkes' tears actually went to work. Tom tried convincing him it wasn't worth it, that I was already dead… He actually sounded regretful. At least until I sat up, stabbed the book and…"
"And what?" Amelia pressed when Harry hesitated.
Harry closed his eyes and let out a breath before he looked her in the eye again. "Killed a good friend doing it… And Survived."
"Just like now," Alastor murmured behind him, for his ears only, though they both knew the Champions, Healers, and Amelia heard him as well. The fact Harry realized that he had outdone death twice, more likely three times now, only solidified the sense that he was a Survivor. Sure he wasn't immortal, not yet nor proven, but the young man knew he would do anything to keep from feeling Death's grip on him any further times, and he suspected Alastor and Amelia did as well.
Before anyone could stop her, Amelia stood up and wrapped Harry in a hug, one he gladly returned as tears finally shook themselves loose. If Harry was honest, he had been terrified. Despite all bravado and levity, all of his defiance, he had been terrified of facing death for a second time. He thanked magic for whatever blessing had been bestowed on him to allow him to survive the killing curse three times thus far.
"You're safe now."
More tears broke through from Harry as he dug his face into his mother's deep red hair. It was exactly what he needed to hear, to be reassured of. Despite having miraculously survived somehow, he was still a young man who feared death and all it brought with it. He had faced it down, certainly, but that didn't wash away the fact he'd died for the second time that he remembered. He survived, it's what he did, but it scared the bloody hell out of him.
Fleur, Viktor and Cedric, having been fully treated, quickly moved to their families after that. The relief that flooded the room was palpable as the families and friends reunited properly. Amos was fussing over Cedric something fierce, crying over his lost arm and assuring him they would set things right as soon as possible. Luna clung tightly to her boyfriend and rested her head on his good shoulder, comforting him as much as she could. Pomona Sprout stood nearby, smiling proudly and sorrowfully at her prized student as Cedric smiled reassuringly at her and his father between kisses to Luna's head.
Viktor instantly wrapped Katie in his arms before his parents caught up to the blonde bullet. They all spoke swiftly in Bulgarian, Katie chipping in occasionally, having been tutored in the language by Viktor. It was the most affectionate anyone had ever seen him as he kissed Katie's head and held her close as if she were the most precious thing in the world before he hugged his parents and mirrored the act with them.
Fleur was wrapped up in the arms of Sebastian, Apolline and Gabrielle before anyone was even allowed close. That her clothes were torn and bore obvious markings of her transformation spoke volumes to the family of what had happened and how she had felt. Odette swarmed her best friend, and though Claire was not as close to the family as Odette was, she took a moment to comfort Fleur before she moved to comfort Cedric as well, who was a closer friend of hers.
Harry had been passed from Amelia, to Poppy, then Minerva and Andy, then to Ted, Bill and Hagrid before he was allowed a moment to breathe until the rest of his friends came up and welcomed him back, both from the task and from the dead in some cases, namely Blaise who was the only one willing to joke about it briefly. Harry appreciated the boy's candor despite everyone's glare, and the triumphant smirk on Blaise's lips told him he knew it too. Alastor, of course, merely pat Harry on the shoulder and quietly promised they'd get more than just one drink together another time, and that the other champions were welcome to join them.
It was everything all of them needed then: the comfort of their family after a battle so fierce they had lost one of their own, however briefly, and suffered other injuries and casualties besides. Fleur eventually found her way back to Harry's side where they were both swarmed by their girlfriends. Susan clung extra tight to both of them for a while, kissing each of them intimately but passionately, letting her emotions speak for themselves as she let them know how worried and distraught she had been for them.
Daphne was a little more reserved, but if the way she barely left contact with either of them for very long was any indication, then she too felt strongly about the night. In fact she went so far as to snog both of them within a breath of their lives before she was satisfied taking Susan's hand in her own. Tracey had pulled both Harry and Fleur into a group hug, unwilling to let either go as she held them close. Harry rubbed her back to calm the adventurous witch, which only caused a brief cascade of tears among them before the blonde collected herself and kissed them both softly.
Tonks, on the other hand, seemed more professional in her approach. At least, as professional as she could manage for the first ten seconds she was close to them. She had looked at them, beaming to see them alive before she buried her head in Fleur's shoulder and held onto them both for dear life, her eyes clearly bright green whenever she turned to look at Harry. When she finally parted from them, she wiped her eyes and Susan was the first to speak.
"Thank you, for bringing you both back alive," she murmured among them.
"I made a promise," Fleur said softly, a smile growing on her lips. "I intend to keep any I make."
"As do we all," Harry said with a smile as he watched the two girls bond. "Though if I'm not mistaken, you made us both promise that."
"Better safe than sorry," Susan replied with an air of impunity before she laughed in relief and held Harry's hand tightly. "I just… I can't believe you're…"
"I'm not going anywhere," Harry promised with a solemn smile as he raised her chin and looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry I worried you or that it… that it happened it all. It will never happen again. I'll make sure of that. I'm just glad you don't hate me."
"We couldn't hate you, Harry," Tracey chimed in, slightly shamed by her earlier actions as she reached out and set her hand on his and Susan's. "We were just so scared and… The fact that you… that we lost you… a part of us… It hurt more than anything but we could never hate you, ever. Don't you ever blame yourself for what happened tonight."
"But if I had been-"
"Lad, you keep up that talk and I'll kill you myself for being an annoying apologist prick," Alastor barked behind the young man, yet to move from his spot behind Harry. "Best you can do is move forward, and you did just that to get your friends, your family, out of there. Because that's what you are now after tonight. No matter what anyone else says, you've shed blood and faced death together. You're as much family as anyone can be now."
"Not all of us got out of there safe and whole though," Harry murmured with regret as he looked to Cedric.
"Neither are you, Harry, but that bit of fuckery is up here what with Poppy and Andy having fixed the rest of you up," Alastor said with a tap of Harry's head. Harry had been healed just like the others, his larger wounds scarring from the dark magic even with his and Fawkes' magic at work. Harry didn't mind the new acquisition on his side, however. It was one more scar, one more badge of pride for him to bear that he had survived. That, however, was easier to bear than the emotions that rattled through him. "Casualties of war, lad. Best we can do is move forward and make the best of what we can. You brought Cedric back alive and I bet that matters more to him and his family than any limb."
"I know," Harry sighed as he watched Cedric give one-armed hugs to the Weasley twins. "I just wish I could… do something to make it better. Hell, Nameless conjured entire functional silver arms for Alecto and Selwyn and I don't even know that magic."
"I do," Poppy said thoughtfully, her brow scrunched up in concentration. "But it is tainted by the desire for control and side effects of binding. It's banned in most circles because a single stray thought can taint it and the patient, which is why I won't use it on Cedric. For all intents and purposes, Nameless, as you so cleverly called him now, owns them. They will become increasingly devoted to him, and they will always be under his power. In fact, if they ever fail or betray him, those arms will surely kill them before they even realize they had a single traitorous thought."
"Ahh," Harry realized quietly as he looked to his wand. He remembered killing Selwyn by activating the defensive magic of the hilt. He could still feel the man squirm as he was killed by his own bones. The life draining out of Flint was equally vivid, but neither caused Harry any guilt. Harry had learned from killing Amycus, had learned throughout the tournament that he had to fight for his life, and he had done so without hesitation.
"But it's just Alecto now, not Selwyn," Harry eventually corrected Poppy.
Alastor chuckled darkly in approval. "Did him in, didja?"
"Bones Family Magic," Harry confirmed with a look to Susan and Amelia. "He wasn't the only one."
"We'll have to get pensieve memories of the night from all of you," Amelia admitted quietly as she thought everything over. "And I'll be happy to help any plan you have to repay Cedric for saving your life."
"I… may have an idea," Fleur admitted slowly as she carefully watched Cedric speak happily with Fred and George, his best friends. "But I will need some help from you, Madame Pomfrey, and your advice would be helpful as well, Alastor. I would like to repay Cedric for his sacrifice as well, and this seems the best way."
The older individuals raised an eyebrow before Alastor snorted. He could tell where her mind was headed and she was smart enough to accomplish it, or so he thought. She had made enchanting her forte, after all, and had led the champions through every enchantment they came across in the maze that evening. If anyone could manage it, he figured it was her and the entire lot she was dating that could manage to get the resources and know-how to do it.
"Madame Bones," the stern growling voice of Scrimgeour called out as he entered the tent. "The Headmaster and Ministry Officials are… requesting to be let in. It's been an hour now and they've waited long enough, or so they believe."
"They don't seriously expect the award ceremony now, do they?" Amelia snapped back. Her Master Auror was aware the rebuke wasn't meant for him and merely shook his head.
"No ma'am, they're more worried about the champions and what the fallout of tonight will be," Rufus answered in a clipped tone that spoke volumes of his opinion of the Headmasters and the Ministry: Not good in any form.
"Politics," Amelia cursed lightly before she looked to Harry. "Your choice, this tent is still your property and we are within your wards."
"Let's just get this over with," Harry deadpanned with a sigh.
Amelia nodded in return before she looked to the group at large. "Everyone, positions, we have guests of the political variety coming."
The tone with which she spoke belied the sarcasm she intended for the word "guests". It was pleasant enough, but anyone that knew Amelia knew she thought very little of politics, despite using them to her advantage time and again. They were niceties, necessary evils to get the job done and tools used to better her position when necessary. Now she would put up with them only so long as it served the agenda she was forming in her mind with tonight's events behind them.
Harry and Fleur stood up from the transfigured bed and let it return itself into a table with a wave of Andromeda's wand. Harry quickly took his shirt from his satchel and slipped into it again, unwilling to share that secret with anyone else, despite hundreds, if not thousands having witnessed them tonight upon their arrival back at Hogwarts. Shortly after all four champions and their parents settled around the table in chairs as the rest of the teens settled into the rearranged furniture.
To them this was a united front. The rigors of the maze and other horrors of the evening; the resurrection, the battle, their escape, they had faced all of it together and they would not stop now. Before Harry allowed their entrance, however, Fawkes alighted upon the teen's shoulder and trilled lightly, the magic of his voice filled the room with courage and strength as the healers checked on their patients before Poppy stood resolute behind Harry with Andromeda and Alastor stationed not far away.
The names of those Harry would allow inside flit through his mind, and instantly he felt the seven people make their way in. They all heard some screeching outside the tent, as if someone else was trying to budge their way in by threatening the Aurors before Harry initiated the lockdown again and sent a pulse through the wards. Cries of shock followed after that before cannon blasts echoed out and the bellowing of Aurors silenced the crowd. Harry could almost hear the grin on Amelia, Alastor, Andy, Minerva and Poppy's faces as he heard Bill outright chuckling next to him.
As the tent flap opened, the entire room seemed to collect themselves all at once. Their countenance was quiet but confident and defiant. Fudge, who stormed in looking somewhat upset, instantly paused at the sight of them all. It was easy to tell he was intimidated at the sight, even with Bagman and Jorkins on his heels. Harry felt the other champions tense at the sight of those two but he sent a pulse of his magic over them as shadows pooled beneath their feet, reassuring them it was alright. The gentle tap he received on his shoulder from Poppy for using magic, of course, wasn't missed, and Harry's lip twitched nearly to a smile as he tilted his head toward her in silent apology.
The Headmasters, of course, approached a bit more graciously, each pleased to see their champions alive, but concerned for their welfare nonetheless. Filius Flitwick was the only other person to join them, which made it so that three of the fours Heads of House of Hogwarts were present. Naturally Harry would never allow Snape to set foot inside his home away from home no matter the reason.
"Amelia, you will loosen the wards so Madame Umbridge may attend this meeting, as she is my Senior Undersecretary," Fudge blustered as he approached more confidently after a few words from Bertha.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Minister," Amelia informed the man in a calm, polite tone that brooked little argument. "Nor would I ask the one who holds them to undo them in such a way that makes them uncomfortable."
"Fine, then just who is controlling these wards?" the Minister started before his gaze landed on Bill. "Mr. Weasley, you supposedly created them. Bring them down please."
"I can't do that, Minister," Bill offered casually. "Only Lord Black can."
The Minister's face took on a hint of confusion before he stared at Harry. That the young man was keeping his people out by force was an insult, and that his defiance in the face of a search for understanding showed itself now was not the way to start things. "Mr. Potter, Harry," the minister began benignly, adopting a more pleasant mien. "Could you lower the wards for my Senior Undersecretary Madame Umbridge and Professor Snape?"
"As Lord Black, I must deny your request for them to be admitted within the bounds of my wards to be granted entry into my property," Harry declined professionally. He silently thanked Amelia and Andromeda for the coaching, as the Minister's face flushed red like he was ready to pop. "But if you wish to seek understanding of this evening another night when she and Professors Snape are more welcome, which will be never, then please, feel free to leave as my fellow champions and I have had a rather long evening and have plenty of healing to do yet."
"But Harry, surely we can come to an agreement!" Bagman boisterously proposed. "You four have just won the Triwizard Tournament together! A feat never before accomplished! With everyone of the proper station involved, everything could be cleared up in no time."
"And in less time without contrarian personalities in the room," Amelia offered professionally. "It would be best if we respect Harry and the other Champion's wishes, especially seeing as Harry could toss every last person here out of his tent and remain within his rights as a Lord of the realm and a Most Ancient and Noble House, twice over, to do so."
Backed into a corner, Fudge gave up with a huff and stalked forward, his bowler hat lowered once again as if ready for hard-ball. Bagman followed less enthusiastically than before and Bertha Jorkins looked upon the champions cautiously as she and the other officials approached the table. The Headmasters soon greeted their champions, the discussions quick and quiet before they too were seated on the opposite side of the table next to the ministry officials.
"We are here to settle on an official story, and we need to hear your version of events," Minister Fudge declared pompously. "This has all caused quite a storm and there are plenty of causes for concern, especially considering certain… injuries and revealed secrets of state."
The Minisry officials and headmasters looked to Cedric in sympathy, but the champion gave little note of them. Instead he picked up a glass of the lemonade Turvy had brought to the table for them all and sipped confidently before he returned it to the table.
"There's only one version of events after what happened in the maze, Minister," Cedric said as politely and carefully as he dared. "Would you like to hear it?"
"It would clear up quite a bit," Jorkins pointed out genially, trying to maintain an air of cooperation with everyone. "Please, tell us what you know."
The Champions shared a look with one another. It was now or never. This was their chance to get the truth out there, but how much good would the truth do and how much would it hurt? A lot about this evening would be difficult to prove, but they were four witnesses to the same event, not to mention the Death Eaters that were there. If they were questioned, things would get a lot more difficult for some of them, but even then only a few Death Eaters had been revealed by name, and of then only one was an escaped convict and too many influential purebloods to fathom were among the rest.
So the Champions began their tale, taking turns describing the events from their point of view. The arrival in the graveyard and the duels with Lucius, Alecto and Junior. How Lucius beat and tortured Harry with his cane and the events that unfolded before the ritual. Fudge immediately began to balk at the mention of Lucius Malfoy but was quickly silenced by a glare from Amelia, who had Scrimgeour recording the account of events as a neutral party and interim lead investigator until it was made official.
When they reached the details of the ritual, Harry was the one who was best able to describe it in detail. He outlined what had happened, then admitted to changing the ritual as much as he could within the confines that would allow them to survive it. The stroke of luck, or skill, impressed many within the tent, including Dumbledore as he looked at Harry with wide, impressed eyes as he scanned him as if never having seen the boy before.
"What they created was a monster," Harry explained quickly. "An amalgamation of blood, flesh and bone made to look and appear like their former master, Lord Voldemort."
"You-Know-Who is not back!" Fudge instantly barked after wincing heavily at the name. "You can't seriously expect me to believe that a dead man was resurrected! It's impossible! Unfathomable even! His followers, deranged as they might be, are locked up, on the run, or in hiding according to what the DMLE has told me! You-Know-Who is dead and he wasn't resurrected!"
"I agree with you, sir."
The words sent a deathly quiet through the room. Cedric, Fleur and Viktor looked to Harry in shock, though hid their feelings as best they could. Amelia, Alastor and the rest of the room looked at Harry in open curiosity, and some of them in true shock as they listened to what he had to say. Fudge, however, looked completely dumbfounded.
"I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly?" the Minister began very cautiously. "You're saying Lord… Thingy, wasn't resurrected?"
"Correct, Minister," Harry continued calmly, which earned further raised eyebrows. "They raised, through a necromantic ritual in conjunction with a series of at least a half dozen others of more benign natures, and some dark variations, a homunculus of something they believed could imitate the power, appearance and mind of their master. Something akin to Frankenstein's Monster, if you'll forgive the mundane reference."
"I'm aware of the reference to that hideous beast," Fudge snapped slightly before a thoughtful look settled on his face. "But why would they do that?"
"Fear, doubt, the appearance of power, take your pick," Alastor surmised quickly from the side of the room. All eyes turned to him and the former Master Auror and current Hit Wizard stared back with ease. "You yourself refused to believe he was back, Minister. You doubted the reality and would doubt anyone that tried to speak the truth, giving the Death Eaters an advantage of secrecy. It's a scary thing to imagine, the worst Dark Lord since Grindelwald, perhaps the worst in history, returning from the dead. Fear would be instilled as rumors move about that Voldemort has returned. And the appearance of power? What better way to show strength and recruit others than to have a puppet, a figurehead, one made from magic and filled to the brim with it there to aid your cause? These are fanatics, Minister, they'll do anything to get their way and they'll cause division and fake any advantage they can get to do it."
"Then why let the Champions live?" Bertha cut in quickly.
"They didn't just let us live," Cedric barked with barely restrained anger suddenly. All eyes were glued to him now, and the rage, the anguish on his face and those closest to him was as real and heart-wrenching as ever. "I lost my arm saving Harry's life from fiendfyre as we tried to escape them! Viktor covered us and took two bone-breaking curses keeping us alive. And Fleur? She underwent full veela transformation and burnt everyone and everything in our path in the hopes of getting us out alive. We fought our way out and barely survived! It if wasn't for Harry's wand's connection to Fawkes, we would have died there and you would be none the wiser, or four corpses richer when they returned our bodies to spread doubt, fear and despair."
The Redoubt was quiet then as they absorbed the young man's words. The reality of it began to sink in more clearly for them all, not just that an enemy had been reawakened, but that sacrifices had been made, a battle had been fought, and that their dear friend had lost an arm in the process. Harry's eyes were downcast as guilt flooded him. He knew he was omitting the truth, or rather twisting it to suit his ends and that it killed them all to lie about who had a hand in ruining Cedric's body, if not part of his life. But Harry had to press forward, sacrifices had to be made, and he would spend his life apologizing to Cedric and the other champions if that's what it took.
"Cedric is right, Minister," Viktor picked up quickly. "We fought for our lives and barely escaped. We ran here because this is safest place on Hogwarts grounds, as it has its own wards within school's wards. We ran for our lives and barely got out alive. Can you blame us for that?"
"No… N-no o-of course not," the Minister said slowly as he eyed the stump where Cedric's shoulder used to connect to his arm, the bandages visible beneath Krum's jersey, and the fading bruises and curse marks on all of the champions. "But this, all of this, it's a lot to swallow! I can understand you were kidnapped, but a homunculus ritual? What other fantastic things happened while there?"
"Oh not much," Fleur drawled sarcastically. "I mean, we only fought for our lives against a monstrously powerful magical construct and as many Death Eaters as could be brought together at the time."
"Speak plainly, woman!" Fudge demanded, raising the ire of many in the room before he gave pause to whatever shred of reason remained in his skull at that moment. "Please, let's just continue where we left off so we get the whole story!"
So they explained, and by silent agreement the champions altered their story to fit the new narrative. They explained how after creating the fake homunculus of Voldemort that Lucius, Alecto and Junior called the Death Eaters in an attempt to renew their cause. That the "fake" Dark Lord dueled Harry, attempted to humiliate him in front of the Death Eaters, and tried to kill all of them. When they explained the duel and the ensuing battle, they all neglected to mention Harry dying and miraculously coming back to life. None of them was comfortable with the thought, and they were all certain it wouldn't make their case easier.
Some truths were best kept secret, after all.
As they finished their tale and described their escape, of the heroics they each performed, the Champions were distinctly aware of the awe in the room, as well as the sympathy. Amos was holding Cedric's remaining hand as tightly as he could without hurting him when they described how he had saved Harry's life from fiendfyre. Harry's hands shook slightly at that before one was taken by Amelia and the other by Bill. Fleur was little better as she was comforted by her parents, and Viktor's mother Veronica set her hands on her son's in comfort as they described agreeing to their end before they found a way out.
And when they described Harry's parting gift, the Redoubt settled into quiet once again. That a teenager, let alone someone only at the end of their fourth year, had managed such a catastrophic explosion was both inspiring and haunting. The Ministry Officials looked green, scared even as they looked upon a young man that had survived torture and ridicule only to potentially blow up everyone that had tried to kill them. Bertha looked the most uncomfortable as she eyed Harry warily, whose own gaze bore into her something fierce, followed by Bagman and then Fudge who looked uneasy at the least, and ready to burst with some mixture of vomit, awe, and other diatribe besides at a moment's notice. Harry almost had to laugh at the sight before he looked to Amelia.
"I believe that's enough of an interview about the events of this evening," the Head of the DMLE concluded. "We can have them all testify under veritaserum at some other point during a proper investigation of what happened this evening."
"Is an investigation really necessary?!" Fudge jumped up as he spoke. "I mean Mr. Potter himself relayed that all of the evidence has likely been destroyed by the blast! How are we to know what the truth is and what isn't? There are likely men and women dead or dying out there right now because of this! I'm sure the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes is having a field day right now trying to deal with this mess! It's astounding they haven't contacted any us yet!"
"Probably because DMAC and its entire staff are too busy trying to keep us safe from discovery by the mundane community to bother with us here at the Tournament, Minister," Amelia advised the man coolly. "They have no reason as of yet to suspect it connects to the kidnapping tonight. Nobody does. But we need to investigate this, at least for the safety of our Champions and our children if nothing else. Britain is still recovering from the mass genocide of the Death Eaters and we need to keep our children safe! A threat is out there, Minister. The Death Eaters are going to play dirty and they're not going to give up easily. They need to be dealt with and swiftly. Let my department investigate and let us hunt down this threat before it gets out of hand."
As the Minister went quiet, Harry thanked whatever stars, deities and magic were watching over them that night. Without Amelia's support, without Amos' support, this night could have gone drastically differently. Hell, it could still have gone differently if they decided to tell the whole truth. That, however, was far more dangerous than the version of it they gave the Minister. Besides, it wasn't entirely a lie. Harry had altered the ritual and for all they knew, it could potentially just be another memory experiment that actually managed to be successful in its quest to regain a physical form. So for all intents and purposes, their new Lord Voldemort might not even be the real one…
Even if he had certainly felt real. In fact, Harry knew there was no way it could be anyone or anything but the true Lord Voldemort; even if he wished and hoped a fragment of the Tom Marvolo Riddle he had gotten to know so well still existed somewhere inside that monstrosity.
The quiet in the room lasted longer still. So long, in fact, that hushed whispers had begun as everyone debated what was going on and what might happen. But with Amelia and Amos, two Heads of Department standing strong together, as well as an international celebrity's family, an Ambassador, and probably one more Ambassador if Andrei Borisev decided to get on the wagon, the pressure on the Ministry would be too great to deny. Something had to be done, and with enough questions and gossip about this Tournament going around already, answers needed to be given.
"Investigate with extreme prejudice, whatever means necessary," Fudge finally agreed as he broke the silence. "The people need to be reassured something like this won't happen again and our international neighbors need to know that we will take this sort of breach seriously." The minister glanced to Viktor's parents and Sebastian and they all nodded their assent. As the Minister looked back to Amelia, he put on a smile. "Hopefully all of this can be straightened out and these terrorists from the past can be put to rest once and for all so Great Britain can move on with its life well and truly for good."
"I also hope that Lucius' involvement can be explained properly…" Fudge continued after a breath. "Perhaps he has been put under the Imperius curse again. He proved susceptible before so maybe he has been taken again for use of his considerable resources. If that's the case, then we need to free him as quickly as possible."
"Of course, Minister," Amelia acceded carefully. "We'll find the truth and make sure all parties, innocent and guilty alike, are taken care of most swiftly."
The man's shoulder's seemed to droop at that. Amelia always was a stickler for the law. It's what made her such a superb Head of the DMLE and she had earned her place there through her achievements; magical, political and lawful. He had to trust her to do what was best, but he wished, to some extent, she might be kinder to those with the proper influence in the nation… and certain bank accounts. In either case, the man sighed away his thoughts and looked to the tent flap.
"What are we to tell the press?"
"That the Champions were kidnapped by use of a modified portkey enchantment and that the entire situation and all of those involved are being investigated," Amelia stated in a brisk, professional and commanding tone. "We are to tell the press that the Champions escaped their captors and are safe, being treated for their wounds, and not to be disturbed until such time as they release their own statements." After a round of nods was received from the champions and their families, Amelia pressed on with a smile.
"Congratulating them and announcing their history-making achievement of working together to win the Triwizard Tournament as a true team would also be in order," Amelia offered, and received conspiratorial looks of approval from the champions and their parents. "Such a display of International Magical Cooperation from the most promising youth of the collective European Magical Community is cause for celebration, and should be treated as such. There's also the matter of their reward, which I'm sure each of them deserves the full thousand after everything they have suffered through during tonight's ordeal, wouldn't you agree?"
Before the Minister could speak a word, Cedric reached in his pocket and set the shrunken Triwizard Cup out for them all to see. The Champions hid their looks of distrust behind well-practiced admiration, and a true mutual appreciation of their accomplishment together. The Minister, with a lemon-sucking look at the idea of handing out that much money to each of the four champions, nodded after he overcame his pain at the idea of adjusting budgets accordingly. It would essentially be like adding three extra salaries to the cost of the tournament, but it would be worth it if it helped relations.
"Of course. As always, thank you for your wise advice, Amelia," Fudge continued before he gestured for Bagman and Jorkins to follow suit. "We'll handle the press… You and Amos, you take care of your boys. The office will always be there in the morning." The two Heads of Department nodded gratefully and held tighter to their boys, who returned their smiles with equal measure. The Minister looked to the foreign champions and their families. "And take care of our favorite foreign students as well! Please, feel free to enjoy a stay in our country a while longer. I'll be sure you are provided every luxury and privilege possible."
The Minister paused for a moment as his eyes fell on Harry. Concern flooded his gaze before he looked to Amelia. "And what of Harry's scars? The world bore witness to them tonight. The press will demand an explanation."
More than one person in the room looked to Harry, bracing themselves for a breakdown or something similar but none came. Instead, Harry seemed lost in thought and concentration. It wasn't brooding, just simple analysis of the facts, or so it seemed. On the inside Harry despised the fact his secret was now revealed, but he bore his marks with the pride of a survivor now, and the he could give two shits what the world thought.
"Tell them the truth."
The Minister's eyes widened, and his reaction was certainly not a-typical. Much of the room mimicked the look and everyone wondered if Harry had gone mad. Alastor, however, was grinning ear to ear, and Andromeda had covered her mouth with a hopeful look in her eyes. After so long, Harry had come to terms with them, and he would bear them with pride. Amelia couldn't be happier, nor could Poppy, Minerva, and a number of others in the room. Bill pat Harry on the back and held his shoulder proudly as Harry continued his answer.
"Tell them the Dursleys were deemed unfit because they were abusive, that they were the worst sort of muggles imaginable," Harry explained slowly. "Tell them that I endured it and eventually revealed the secret so I could have a better life among people that understand me: a family…" He smiled brilliantly at Amelia, one she returned in equal measure before she kissed his head. "My true family. The reason we kept it a state secret so long was because it was a sensitive personal matter not fit for public consumption until it was forcibly revealed by the events of this evening."
The Minister nodded slowly at that, concerned about the backlash it might create. Even so, he was a political animal and could probably find a way to spin it to keep the public's support. After a bit of glad-handing, the Minister and the two Department Heads in charge of the Tournament finally left. Harry's gaze never left the two officials, whom he'd had to omit from his story for good reason. If you went around accusing department heads of colluding with terrorists without sufficient proof to back up your claim then you usually ended up being targeted yourself.
Harry swiftly locked the wards down and struck their names from the allowed list, including Fudge just in case. He felt safer with only a so many people able to get in, especially after the events earlier in the evening. In any case, he was only stirred from his quiet contemplations by Karkaroff and Maxime bidding their goodnights, only after learning their champions were staying in the Redoubt.
Harry glanced to both of them, understanding their reasoning, rather touched Viktor and Fleur would stay the evening instead of returning to their schools' ship and carriage respectively. Cedric too decided to stay, and their families agreed to bunk in the auror tents for the evening in order to remain close. As Maxime began to congratulate each champion, she paused at Harry and bowed as low as she could before him.
"Thank you, Monsieur Potter, for getting them home."
"It wasn't just me, Madame," Harry reasoned as he glanced to Fawkes, who had remained on his shoulder, then to the other champions. When his gaze finally settled on Madame Maxime again, he smiled. "We got one another home."
The half-giantess smiled even more widely and after as gentle a hug as she could manage, which Harry slowly reciprocated, she backed away. "All of you will always be welcome at Beauxbatons. And should you visit France, please feel free to visit me. My home is your home."
The champions nodded together, glad to have made a friend of the Headmistress that evening. Karkaroff hesitated a moment as he looked them over. Four young adults, three of them still in their teens, had managed to outplay Voldemort and survive. His past was going to catch up to him sooner or later, but he was already making his own preparations. He gave them each their due congratulations and thanked them for their cooperation and strength before he too left. Both of the Headmasters had schools to watch over, but they weren't the only ones.
Dumbledore, however, was a slightly different story.
"You make a fine storyteller, Harry."
Harry glanced over to the aging wizard and raised an eyebrow before he shrugged casually. "I suppose I'm decent enough at it. But tonight wasn't just a story. It was the truth."
"Indeed," the Headmaster agreed sagely as he remained seated in his chair which he had long ago transfigured into a rather resplendent armchair. "But what you told us was not, I think, the whole truth."
"Would I lie, Albus?" Harry asked him with a tilt of his head and a sardonic smile.
"Quite frankly? Yes," Dumbledore agreed in so serene a manner it was almost irritating. "You have lied for so long about some things I think you forget how to even speak the truth on occasion. You remind me rather a great deal of another promising student I once had the privilege and duty to watch over."
"I'm flattered."
"You shouldn't be," the aged wizard's voice cut in more briskly, dangerously even. "Considering he was resurrected in the form of Lord Voldemort this evening. I may be older, Harry, but I am not as small-minded as Fudge as to fear the truth… A truth I believe you twisted this very evening to get what you wanted."
The entire room watched the pair closely, but neither of them spoke. Instead, it was Amelia who broke the quiet.
"Would you rather have Fudge storming about, preparing to try and tank the reputation of anyone remotely capable of fighting Voldemort that wishes to speak the truth?" Amelia proposed to the Headmaster of Hogwarts as she leaned forward professionally in her seat. "Would the truth really get us any further than what we heard from the champions this evening? Fudge would have done everything he could to quiet this story and I wouldn't put it past him to place our jobs, or even our very lives at risk. We can do more good with what half-truths the champions told us this evening."
"I would prefer the whole truth be spread far and wide," the Headmaster spoke with conviction. "Half-truths only obscure the true threat of what is to come. In spreading them, we are doing a disservice to everyone who is to face the oncoming storm. Whether our reputations suffer or not, and whether or not our lives were to be put in greater danger because of it, the truth would have been best to divulge."
"Amelia is right, Headmaster," Tonks spoke up suddenly. Every eye was drawn to the auror, whose hair was down to her shoulders and a slightly redder shade of pink. "Fudge, as you said, is small-minded. He would have tried to wipe this all under the rug and gone with the story we fed him anyway, if even that. Most likely, he would have called the champions delusional and say some sort of enchantment on the cup went awry to cause a hallucination and the magic involved became harmful to everyone that touched it. Anyone trying to speak the truth would have been hushed up; their reputation ruined, their jobs torn to shreds, and their families put at risk."
"That may be true, but by not speaking the truth of these events you have put the world at great risk of underestimating the foe it is about to face," Albus stated almost imperiously. "It was a mistake, one I hope will not be the doom of us all, and one that I hope you do not rue the day for making in haste."
"I am curious why we did not speak the truth as well," Viktor stated slowly as he looked over to Harry.
"Because, as much as I hate to admit it, the Ministry will be better prepared with these half-truths out in the world than letting the true events of tonight get out," Fleur surmised quickly. She glanced to Amelia and Tonks, then to her father. All of them nodded in assent, certain that such would be the outcome. "That is why we said only so much."
"Hell of a decision to make on the spot, Harry," Cedric said as he looked over to the youngest Champion. "I'm not sure I would have made it if you hadn't. But then… I'm not sure I could have spoken the truth either."
Harry sighed. He knew something like this would eventually come up. He was glad the champions; his friends, his brothers and girlfriend, weren't as upset with him as he thought they might be, as they technically had a right to be. Making the decision to lie by omission had been easy, natural even. He had secrets he wanted to keep and people he wanted dead. To kill those people, he needed help, and that help came from the one woman best equipped to lead a war against them.
"I had to give Amelia a reason to hunt them down like the animals they are," Harry stated with a slight smile as he looked over to his mom. "Not that just touching a hair on my head wouldn't have been enough."
"That earned them prison, but this evening earned them an unmarked grave," Amelia assured him as she ran a hand through his hair and seemed to breathe a little easier as she returned his smile. "Fudge would have tried to stop any efforts to take on the Death Eaters, including Lucius, had we come straight out with the truth. His reaction at the very beginning was enough of an indicator about his true intentions. That you managed to convince him otherwise… You four bought us time, much-needed time to prepare and start hunting them while they think they have the upper-hand."
"This makes more sense," Viktor admitted solemnly as he leaned back in his seat. "I only wish tonight did not come at so high a cost, to all of us."
Quiet fell over the tent once again as each contemplated what they had lost. Ideologically, they may have lost some innocence, some sense of moral duty to remain ethically bound. But physically? Emotionally? The price they paid for this evening's events had been extremely high, especially for two among them.
"While I cannot condone your actions, I understand why," Albus finally acceded as he watched them over the pyramid of his fingers. "However, I ask you to share the truth with only those in this tent so we can know and prepare properly."
Harry looked over to the champions. They all knew what the Headmaster was asking. They had relived most of the night once already, and he was asking them relive it in its entirety now. After everything they had been through, it was going to be hell. Amelia, Amos, Sebastian, Apolline, and Veronica, Krum's mother, were all in an uproar at that. In fact, much of the room was looking mutinously at the headmaster for proposing such, even if they too were interested in the reality of the night.
"We can use the pensieve," Harry finally managed to cut in. Everyone gave pause and turned to look at him, including Cedric, Viktor and Fleur who looked about ready to burst at the thought. Before anyone could say another word, especially the other champions, Harry pressed on. "We'll put our memories inside them so you can project it around the room and witness it for yourselves… But I won't stay here and watch it. I've lived it and I had to relive it once already, but I won't face it a third time. Not tonight."
Despite knowing it would be hard on him, everyone in the room wanted to know what they had been through. They couldn't help themselves, especially with what they had learned thus far. Most of their reasoning was straightforward, but others had motives beyond simple truth.
The Champions, however, understood what Harry was getting at. If they put their memories in a pensieve then for an hour, perhaps even up to four if the others watched every version of events, they could live without such clear images of the evening in their minds. It would only be a short time, but it would help them cope with it, to an extent. That and everyone would see what they went through, would see the truth for what it was and get to decide for themselves if their silent communal decision to only speak so much of it earlier had been right or not.
"I agree," Cedric spoke up as he looked from where his arm used to be. "You all should know what we faced."
Amos looked pained as he set a hand on Cedric's shoulder. "Son, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."
"I know," Cedric answered. His lips twitched toward a smile before it fell. "But a burden shared is a burden halved, and you need to know what happened. I want you to know what happened."
"Oui. As do I," Fleur finally put in.
"Ja," Viktor agreed simply.
"Thank you," Amelia said before anyone else could get a word in edgewise. Their gazes turned to her as she smiled brilliantly at them. "Letting us see this takes a kind of bravery few are able to muster."
With a shared nod, the Champions stood up. After a quick command, Turvy appeared with the Bones Family pensieve in hand. The champions all contributed their memories and Amelia explained that they would see the first half as one version of events, as all of their viewpoints would combine. Then the scenes would split between Harry and the Champion's perspective based on what happened. In all, the champions would have maybe an hour and a half, two at most to rest and recuperate without images of the night playing in their minds so vividly.
The champions whispered a quick word of farewell to those that were staying to watch it and quickly adjourned to the kitchen. Cedric and Viktor made it to the kitchen first naturally, as they weren't stopped by four young women kissing them goodbye. Once Fleur and Harry arrived, they all cast privacy wards around the kitchen and ensured they would see and hear nothing of what was in the den.
Harry, however, reached down and quickly undid his boots and took off his socks. The moment his feet hit the cool tile floor of the kitchen, a tension that seemed to have held tight on him throughout the evening seemed to ebb away. The warmth of flesh and the sound of voices he would have missed most dearly were fine comforts, but the cold sensation beneath his feet helped wake him up even more to the fact he really was alive.
"My name is Harry James Potter…" Harry whispered with relief. His shoulders sagged, his stance shifted, and for the first time since entering the maze Harry felt he could well and truly relax. Rarely had he needed to speak the words as of late, but just then the help of an old coping mechanism was what kept him grounded.
"You are sixteen years old and the luckiest son of a bitch I know," Cedric continued without missing a beat, a well-meaning grin upon his face.
"You are in love with five extremely beautiful young women, and have the best family you could have ever asked for," Fleur added, picking up where Cedric left off.
"You are best damn healer apprentice this side of Old Iron Curtain," Viktor piled on as he got an idea what was going on from the other two, never having witnessed this coping mechanism before. "And best friend we Champions could have ever asked for."
Harry let out a choked laugh then as he resisted a few tears that threatened to escape. He usually used this coping mechanism alone and he hadn't thought the others would have heard him. He knew Cedric had witnessed it before, as the boy had stayed a week in the Hospital Wing with him last year. Fleur had been witness to it only once when she caught him in the midst of a cold shower one morning a month ago. Viktor had never witnessed it, but now that he had, now that they had all helped him, Harry thought it was worth any compromising feelings of vulnerability he felt.
Fawkes sang a note more sweet and pure than anything they had yet heard that night as the phoenix joined them. The champions felt that, for just one moment, they had been removed from the world, from the pain and granted a moment of pure peace by the immortal magical creature. Harry's hand trailed down the phoenix's down before the red and gold bird gently alighted itself upon the kitchen island where it was treated to similar strokes of appreciation from the other champions.
"Thanks, you lot," Harry said quietly. "Really, thank you… I wouldn't have made it out of there without you."
"Nor would we have lived without you," Viktor comforted the young man with a gentle pat on the back. "We failed to save your life once, but you saved ours."
"Don't sell yourself short, you saved my life," Harry assured them all. "I may have had tea with death for a bit there, but I wouldn't have been able to do half the things I did to get to you if you weren't fighting like hell to escape anyway."
"I did not want to leave you," Fleur murmured quietly. "Seeing what happened… I wanted to destroy them all. Cedric and Viktor kept me from making a fatal mistake."
"Maybe, but you were a big factor in keeping us alive," Cedric comforted the witch. "I got the impression they aren't used to fighting veela, especially one as powerful as you. But like you said earlier, the four of us against the world? I like those odds, everything considered."
"We all saved each-other," Fleur said with a smile to all of them. "And we all made it home. That's what matters."
Another trill from Fawkes had Harry glancing at the phoenix with a grin. "Oh alright, I suppose we owe you our lives as well."
The phoenix chirped and held its head high, as if lording that fact over them as the champions laughed in good spirits. For all of the hell, hardship and heartbreak they had been through that evening, they could at least find some humor in the world still. Turvy, Topsy and Tipsy brought them hot chocolate and some cookies and ice cream, looking at Harry fondly the entire while. No doubt the little elves had felt the passing of their master and were simply glad he had somehow survived and come back from the dead.
Instead of discussing the graveyard, the champions discussed the maze, which in retrospect they rather enjoyed altogether, among other things. Plus they all had another thousand galleons to deal with in the next few days which they were happy to discuss plans for. Amelia's not-so-subtle coaxing that a thousand galleons for each of them would do wonders for international cooperation as well as compensation for kidnapping during a ministry and school managed event worked quite well in their favor. Harry was more than willing to give his portion to the others but they were having none of it.
Eventually the champions fell into companionable quiet as they sat on raised stools around the island. Fawkes went from one spot to another and they all took turns feeding the phoenix some diced peppers and bits of meat the house elves brought for the bird. If anything the immortal phoenix was the happiest Harry had ever seen it. He felt a sort of kinship with the firebird. Both had come back from the dead to rise as strong as ever, perhaps even stronger, and that sort of thing was impossible to ignore.
"Is that why you're sticking around me tonight?" Harry murmured to the bird as he stroked its feathers. "To tell me it's alright? Maybe even to tell me how I did it or what magic is at work?"
His question never got an answer. Not because Fawkes wasn't willing to give one, but because the wards around the kitchen flared as someone "knocked" on the outside and his attention was drawn away from the subtle nod the bird offered too late in response. Almost reluctantly, Harry began to dismantle his wards along with the rest of the champions. The moment they finished the champions stood and exited the kitchen after Harry had retrieved his boots and slipped them into his satchel.
What they found in the den was a conglomeration of people caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Some stared at them in awe, concern, and pride, while others were crying, and in Alastor's case a wide grin of approval. Harry had expected it the moment he walked back in, but that only barely helped him withstand the tides of four young women practically tackling him. Only Fleur, Cedric and Viktor's presence behind him kept Harry from the ground. Despite the tears Susan wore and the looks of mixed concern, awe and pride in the others, Harry couldn't help what left his lips next.
"Hello ladies. Miss me?"
The fist that dug into his chest from Susan instantly had Harry wrapping an arm about her to comfort her. Tracey and Tonks managed snorts of amusement while Daphne smirked at him and winked. They could appreciate the humor a little more, but even so, seeing it happen after they had felt it had to have been hard for them. That he used words so freshly modified from what he'd said to Cedric and Viktor, well, it was both touching, worrying, and at least a little funny.
"Oh very funny, really amusing," Daphne drawled lightly as Cedric and Viktor chuckled appreciatively.
"One of the best moments of my night when he said those words, honestly," Cedric admitted briefly.
"Ja, I must agree," Viktor added. "It gave me hope we would see home again."
"Glad I could be of service," Harry quipped to them before he managed to guide Susan and the others away from the kitchen. Instead of ending up at the table again, Harry was dragged to the couch and promptly stuffed into the middle of it. Fleur occupied his lap with a wink at the other girls before Tracey took a spot at Harry's feet. Tonks rounded the couch and sat on the back of it, leaning casually over to toy with his hair. Susan and Daphne, of course, filled up the rest of the couch and the entire group settled down to relax with one another after everyone had witnessed the truth of the graveyard.
"I'd like to be the first to congratulate all of you on a job well done this evening," Amelia spoke softly as she eyed the four champions. Cedric and Viktor had settled into armchairs on either side of the couch with Luna and Katie in their laps respectively as their parents and best friends stood nearby. "What you faced this evening is something grown men and women; aurors, hit wizards, LEO's and trained professionals would have been hard pressed to survive. That the four of you got back alive is nothing short of miraculous, despite the casualties you faced along the way. Your courage in the face of danger, your fortitude and endurance in the face of nearly impossible odds, and your skill and power in magic are to be commended. If it was up to me, you would all be getting Orders of Merlin right now."
A murmur of thanks came from the champions in response but it was quickly washed away as Amelia continued.
"What we saw tonight was terrible, horrific, and in all things it was the First Battle in a much larger War. Thus, I am making a call to war," Amelia began as she looked from one person in the room to another. "Voldemort is back and he will stop at nothing to see Harry and all of his friends, family and allies destroyed simply for associating with him. We are now his enemies. His Death Eaters are out there and more numerous than we first surmised. With their master returned, we're all going to need to be wary.
"So I'm asking you all to write home as soon as possible to begin forging true, bonding alliances between our houses and to prepare for war." Amelia's declaration was met with understanding silence. In light of recent events, unity would be their best weapon against the Death Eaters. Some in the room shifted uncomfortably; Theo, Hestia and Flora among them, and Amelia's eyes locked on them. "I know it will be difficult and that it's not an easy decision, but it needs to be made soon. Voldemort and his Death eaters could strike anywhere at any time and we need to be ready for them, and a side needs to be taken."
A contemplative silence settled on the occupants of the tents as they considered what was going on. This wasn't quite the summit of allies they all knew would eventually come, but for now it was the best they could do. While more was yet to come, Amelia had said what needed saying to the group at large.
Then it was Dumbledore's turn to speak.
"The future will not be easy, but for a moment, I would like to look to the present and to this past evening," the Headmaster began as his gaze searched that of the champions before it landed specifically on Harry. "What you accomplished tonight truly was nothing short of miraculous. But I am not the only one curious as to how it was managed."
Harry glanced to the headmaster then to everyone else in the room. Did he trust them all with this sort of secret? At this point, there was little he could do to stop them knowing more. After all, they had witnessed his point of view of coming back already. He trusted them, and he had no doubt Amelia would be binding this secret to family magics and some sort of contract of secrecy incredibly soon.
As Fawkes settled on his shoulder once again, Harry couldn't help but smile. "Oh, just rising from the ashes I suppose."
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed for but a moment at that response. "This isn't the time to be vague and mocking, Harry."
"Vague is all I've got, Albus," Harry responded coolly. "All I know is I've consciously faced the killing curse twice, no three times since I remember that night when Lily and James died, and survived each time. The silver fog is breathed into me and I wake up… stronger than before. If anything it's my natural connection to magic, my magic, that won't allow me to die. After so long facing death, destruction, torture and abuse, I and my magic have learnt to adapt. What doesn't kill me makes me stronger."
Harry looked over to Poppy and the Healer gently covered her mouth in realization. So she had been right, or at least her theory was the closest to being true. Prophecy or not, Harry put more stock by her theory than any other. Constant regeneration, self-sustained healing magic, adaptation to all wounds, magic and foreign elements, it was all there. Harry stroked Fawkes on the neck briefly before he looked to the Hogwarts Headmaster.
"Did Fawkes treat my scar that night, so long ago?"
Albus's eyes widened for a moment before he nodded. "He came to me and healed your scar shortly before we dropped you off on Privett Drive. Before that, you had met once before during the time when I cast the fidelius charm upon the Potter Cottage in Grodric's Hollow…"
"And again each time I died and when he had his first burning day after I entered the magical world, and when my wand called him during the Wand Weighing," Harry added slowly as he admired the phoenix. "My conclusion is that maybe Fawkes enhanced that part of my magic, what was already there, with some of his own maybe, I don't know. But there's a reason my wand's core came from him."
"Indeed, and you have given me much to think about," the Headmaster acceded after a few moment's deep contemplation. "I do believe I know where Fawkes will go upon the occasion of my death, unless he decides to part ways with me and join with you sooner." Harry couldn't help but grin at that as Fawkes trilled in agreement. Fleur event went so far as to caress the bird and thank him before Albus continued speaking. "However, there is also another matter to discuss this evening… Your tactics against the Death Eaters."
"They chose their side the moment they ran back to Voldemort and bended knee before him," Harry cut in quickly. "They chose to try and end me and mine and I simply gave them the treatment they deserved. They found mercy in my embrace."
The Headmaster froze at that. At that time, however, responding to any bait would only create arguments and do little to aid their cause. Harry and the other champions seemed well aware of what they had done, what Harry had accomplished, and they were fine with it. In fact, most of the tent was fine with it, even, Albus had to admit, a fragment of himself left over from the wars with Grindelwald and Voldemort the first time.
"But did you have to destroy the graveyard and potentially everyone and all of the evidence within it?"
"A fine bit of magic, that," Harry reminisced with a dark smirk as Alastor chuckled appreciatively along with a few others, including the Champions and Bill. "And the best part is I warned them what I could do at the academic competition. You didn't think that was all just shadows and illusions did you? They were wrapped in my magic, and if anything they knew my magic could be deadly. What's to stop me from combining the two? What's to stop me from turning the world I make upon my enemy?"
Minerva seemed to glow with pride at that. Though they had heard Harry's thoughts on the matter, reliving it was a moment of pride for the Transfiguration Mistress. Though harry was not her apprentice and was instead her surrogate grandson, it brought her great pleasure to know he not only appreciated her knowledge, but thrived with it.
"Becoming a mass murderer, potentially," the headmaster responded, immediately dampening the mood of the room. "A suitable conscience at the very least should keep such from happening and you seem to go against that idea."
"Bah, you're soft Albus," Alastor stated as he stepped up with a smirk. "That was the best damn exit strategy they had available to them and you know it. Hell, I and every experienced son and daughter of bitches here knows it. A parting gift like that? Not only would it wound them like hell, it would rattle them. Their Dark Lord just lost quiet badly, many of them are wounded by cursed fire, and their enemy has proven far more resourceful and powerful than they thought. My guess is that explosion has slowed them down for weeks at least because of the healing they'll need to accomplish alone. With who we can guess was there, I wouldn't doubt more than a few individuals don't show up at important functions for a while if at all considering many are likely dead or extremely scarred by the night's events."
"While I agree with Alastor, now is not the time to be discussing the appropriateness of tactics," Amelia stated clearly as she challenged both older wizards to argue with her. They wisely kept their pieces to themselves, but it was obvious they had opinions they wished to impart on the matter. "It has been an exceptionally long evening for all of us, Harry, Fleur, Cedric and Viktor especially. It's time we put the day to rest and we can breach further topics of conversation in the morrow."
Alastor shrugged and made his way over to the champions, his pride in them on display for everyone in the tent to see as he leaned against the couch next to Tonks. Albus lightly bowed his head in acknowledgement, though not a single person doubted this conversation would come up again. Amelia, however, wasn't quite finished. She reached into her satchel and withdrew an ornate looking scroll.
"A Secrecy Scroll, a binding magical contract that will keep any of you from divulging what you witnessed this night to anyone other than those within this room unless given permission by Harry or myself," Amelia informed them imperiously. "I had Turvy retrieve it for me from Bones Manor before we met with the Minister. This scroll amounts to an unbreakable vow and a fidelius charm all at once. The magic at work here will keep what we learned this evening entirely secret and any attempts to break that secrecy will fail and result in… severe backlash."
"Like how family magic protects certain knowledge for only those brought into the family?" Harry wondered curiously.
"Exactly, yes," Amelia said proudly as she looked to her adopted son. "This is essentially its own form of family magic, which will put Harry and I in control of who is allowed access to the knowledge garnered here in private this evening. Your signing this indicates your agreement and will allow you in on the secret. Should you choose not to sign it, this knowledge will be wiped from your mind the moment the scroll is sealed again, never to return or be noticed by anyone else even if you wrote it down, thus mimicking the fidelius that way."
The occupants of the tent debated it for a few moments before they deemed the measures about to be taken necessary. With the secrets properly outlined as the hard truths divulged in the tent and the "secret keepers" properly named, it was ironclad: Anything learned about Harry's circumstances and the events of the graveyard within the tent were now bound by secrecy. The Death Eaters and Voldemort would retain their knowledge of the events in the Graveyard, the Ministry officials and Headmasters would remember the version of events they were told, but the true secrets and knowledge divulged within the tent that evening would remain bound and hidden.
Everyone in the tent signed, all of them out of loyalty to those involved. Of course, none of them appreciated the potential consequences for betraying these secrets, but it was worth it in the end. This sort of knowledge wasn't something that should be shared, and that so many bore witness to it was bad enough. Now, however, they could all live in the knowledge that these secrets were secure and bound by magic that would keep it from being divulged. The champions retrieved their memories from the pensieve with a shudder and gratefully took calming draughts from Poppy before she returned to the castle, leaving them in Andromeda's care overnight until she would inevitably return the next morning.
The majority of students in the tent were ushered back to the castle, carriage, or ship respectively. Only Susan, Daphne, Tracey, Fleur, Gabrielle, Cedric, Luna, Katie and Viktor were allowed to stay within the wards by decree of McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick and Dumbledore. Viktor, Cedric, and Fleur's families along with Xenophilius Lovegood would be bunking in the auror tents while the champions would be staying in Harry's tent.
Tonks had given her room to her parents so Cedric and Viktor could each have their own room with their girlfriends for the evening. More of the students could have bunked in Susan's reserved room, considering she, among others, would be staying in Harry's room that evening, but such arrangements were not allowed that evening. In all it was a somber affair as they said their farewells to everyone for the second time that evening before they all prepared for bed.
As Cedric made to get up, with Luna's help, Amelia approached him.
"I can't thank you enough for sacrificing your arm to save my son…" Amelia spoke more emotionally than the sandy-haired champion had ever heard her, barring the speech at the beginning of the year. "I'll do everything I can to pay you back for that. And know that you will always have a place with us should you need it."
Cedric was at a loss for words before he nodded in quiet acceptance. Amelia turned to Viktor as the man approached and smiled proudly at him. "You are full of surprises this evening, Viktor. You skills and reflexes in the air are well reflected in your dueling skill on the ground. In light of the injuries you faced and the sacrifices you made to keep the others fighting, you've earned my trust and admiration."
Viktor nodded proudly at that, and even offered Amelia as much of a salute as he could. The room chuckled at that before the two boys left with their girlfriends. Amelia turned to the House of Wolves, as she had so affectionately begun to call them in private. They were all about to follow their friends, but before they could Amelia took Fleur aside into the most heartfelt and affectionate hug she had ever given the veela.
"I'll be a proud mother-in-law one day," Amelia whispered in Fleur's ear. "You never gave up, and what you felt for Harry, what you did to try and avenge him then get him home… I can't thank you enough. You saved the others more than you know and I can never repay you for that, or for the love you hold so dearly for my daughter and son."
Fleur barely kept herself composed as silent tears marred her cheeks. She gently buried her head in Amelia's hair as the older woman did the same to her. The two remained like that for some moments before Fleur finally managed a reply. "And I will be a proud and grateful daughter-in-law, Amelia. You may have only had him a year and a half but you have raised Harry into a wonderful man, and Susan into a magnificent woman… though don't tell her I said that."
Amelia couldn't help the brief chuckles that escaped her. Fleur and Susan had a complicated relationship at best and were hot or cold toward one another depending on the day, or whim. Amelia could never quite figure that out. In any case, she slowly released Fleur after she kissed the young woman's head and looked to the others. She hugged each of them, treated them as her own daughters, before she reached Harry. He was quickly engulfed in her embrace and was more than happy to enjoy it while it lasted.
"Never again," Amelia promised him. "I'll never let that happen to you again."
"Never again," Harry murmured back just as emotionally. "I won't let it happen again, nor will I let it take you, any of you, from me."
The mother and son smiled at one another before she released him. Bill gave everyone goodnight hugs, Harry's a little longer than the rest as he was glad to have the young man back, safe and alive. When Harry got to his room he found it empty, though that didn't last. As soon as he had changed into pajama pants and a tank top, he was joined by Susan, Daphne, Fleur, Tonks and Tracey. Tonks tapped his bed and Harry had to jump out of the way as it enlarged itself to accommodate them all.
Harry swiftly got in bed, unwilling to let himself stand a moment longer. Fleur joined him next and the two formed the core of the huddle they eventually became. Harry had Fleur in one arm and Daphne in the other as she displayed her barely-hidden desire to hold them both as she gently wrapped Fleur's hand in her own atop Harry's chest. Susan cuddled Daphne's back and held her close, a hand trailing between her and Harry quite often. Nym fit to Fleur's side as much as she could, glad to have them both home as she too trailed her hand along Fleur and Harry. Tracey enveloped the metamorph on the other side and held tight to her and Fleur as much as she could. The blanket was slowly pulled over them all as they got comfortable, each of them seeking, for that night and likely many more to come, a connection with everyone else.
"We're not going anywhere," Harry murmured as he closed his eyes and simply felt their presence, their magic, their love for him and one another wash over the room. "Not now, not ever… I love you, all of you, and I won't let any of you go. Let's just sleep and know we're facing this together, forever."
Though he couldn't see it, five brilliant smiles were reflected back at him before five voices answered with the most intimate of Whispers in the Night.
"Together, forever."
