The Second Task
The discovery of the Bubble Head charm in a sixth year charms text was a load off Harry's mind. He could once again concentrate all his time and energy to getting his grades back up to their usual standard. The only remaining consideration was swimming in the lake in the middle of winter, but there were warming charms for that. All that remained was where the merpeople lived, but he figured that wouldn't be much of a problem, as they all had just one hour to complete the task, so he wouldn't be spending too much time looking for them. Either the merpeople would come looking for them, or they'd start the contest in their territory. There was just one other thing to verify…
"Professor?", Harry asked Dumbledore right after breakfast.
"Yes, Harry?"
"One question about this next task..."
"You know the rules forbid asking for outside help".
"Even a question about rules and practices?"
"Now that is permitted, what did you want to know?"
"No one is supposed to die during these tasks, isn't that true? That precautions are in place?"
"Of course they are, but you were told this back in October".
"I just want to make sure".
"Our new, revived Tournament isn't going to be like the previous ones. Excessive fatalities closed down the original Triwizard Tournaments. We won't be allowing the same mistakes".
"It's just that, during the first task, I was having my doubts".
"You can rest assured: no one will die, though the possibility of injury is still there, to make the tasks sufficiently challenging".
"Thanks, that's all I needed to know".
"Then I take it you are ready for the next task?"
"I am now".
"Then good luck, Harry".
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
"How is Skeeter finding out about this?!", Hagrid wasn't the only one getting bad press lately.
Do Beaux Batons Students Have No Shame?
An anonymous source has revealed to this reporter that a certain, rather plain girl of Beaux Batons has a certain obsession with famous wizards. First, it was the Boy Who Lived: Harry Potter. Perhaps Mr. Potter was too stand-offish, preferring to remain "just friends"? Lately, she has taken to toying with the affections of the Bulgarian Seeker: Viktor Krum. They were seen together at the Triwizard Ball.
While some girls won't kiss on a first date, Mr. Krum's partner for the Triwizard Ball spread her legs on their first date. They retired to the "Shrieking Shack". It is an open secret that the Shrieking Shack is a favourite rendezvous place, in addition to providing unauthorized access to Hogsmeade. Mr. Krum and his Triwizard Ball partner were known to have been making the shack shriek in their own manner.
While Mr. Krum's date has a reputation for academic excellence, she seems to lack confidence due to her muggle upbringing. Perhaps she figures academic performance isn't enough? That she needs to work her way up on her back? How is it that the Triwizard Ball was not chaperoned more responsibly?
My source has also alleged that the Shrieking Shack was used as a hiding place for werewolf students for their monthly "transformations", admitted to the school by the Headmaster. It is yet another indication of Headmaster Dumbledore's mismanagement that such a place is allowed to exist.
Is this the kind of disgraceful conduct we want to see at Britain's premiere school for magical instruction? This reporter leaves that up to you.
– Rita Skeeter
This article appeared in the latest Witch Weekly. Rita managed to work in yet another dig at Dumbledore. Molly Weasley had a subscription, for the recipes. The cover had a picture of a bushy haired young lady looking all too much like Hermione holding up the latest confection: a sponge cake as she pointed her wand. The magazine also featured heaping helpings of gossip. Normally, Witch Weekly would receive little attention since the audience for this periodical was middle aged house wives. Yet, one managed to find its way to Hogwarts.
"Had to be Ron, he left about the same time you and Viktor left the table, just before Pansy and I headed for the garden. He's perfectly capable of doing something like this. He knew about Remus, hell, Remus hangs out at the Burrow all the time so he must've mentioned it. His jealousy, it really brings out his Inner Asshole. Surely it hasn't escaped you that he has a fixation on you?"
"If he wanted to go to that Ball with me so badly, then why didn't he ask?"
"I don't know, maybe because he fears rejection? I don't know the asshole all that well, and I never cared to. Even as a Firstie, I was sweating that Hat lest it send Ron to Slytherin. I can't imagine sharing a dorm with him. He's all kinds of fucked up, maybe because he's the kid brother, maybe because he's trying too hard to live up to the examples Bill, Charlie, and Percy set. Maybe because he's second in line to Ginny the only girl. I wouldn't even count out Dumbledore as a factor".
"What are you going to do about him?"
"I honestly don't know. It's complicated: I'm getting to like the Twins, despite their malicious pranks on the other students, especially the Badgers. Like all bullies, they pick on the victims least likely to fight back. They wouldn't dare fuck with the Snakes, and even the book worms show some backbone. I certainly like Bill and Charles: they helped us out on more than one occasion. Arthur and Molly have been most thoughtful, so how do you explain to them that they have a rotten kid? Ron's their family too, and they're not gonna want to hear it. Certainly not from an outsider. As for Ron, himself, he just never learns. I suppose this means no more invites to the Burrow?
"You really shouldn't've pissed her off, yannow".
"I'm so gonna get that bitch!"
"Haven't you done enough?"
"You saw what she did to Hagrid! How can you just let that pass?! Someone needs to teach her a lesson! How is she doing it?"
"I saw what she did to Hagrid, how she took advantage of his naivete, his trusting nature. Skeeter twists words to suit her, and is always looking for that next sensational story. If she can't find one, she makes one. She's done it to me on more than one occasion. None too different in the muggle world. Same rules apply: move that copy first and foremost. If journalism happens, that's a side benefit. She's a thoroughly disgusting excuse for a reporter, and I use that term loosely. But, Hermione, you don't need to hand it to her on a silver platter! Take it from someone who's been there; done that. Don't be opening any strange owl posts. You won't be able to do anything about the howlers: they open on their own if you don't"
"But, how does she find out?"
"All I know is that it's not some sort of invisibility cloak. Moody would have seen through that. He can see right through mine, and mine's by far the best invisibility cloak out there. You don't even need a cybernetic eye for most of them as there's always some visual distortion anyway if you're paying attention and know what to look for. Maybe some sort of bug, or something..."
"Muggle tech doesn't work around the magical fields".
"Some do", he was thinking of Lucius' bugs.
"Which..."
"Technomage electronics… I mean, you didn't… really?"
Getting no answer was an answer in itself.
"Hermione!"
"OK, it happened. It just… sort of... happened. Viktor… me, the dancing and the Ball, and he's a real cute guy..."
"There's gonna be talk, especially Ron and that yap of his".
Hermione's troubles were just getting started. The Death Eater wannabes made sure of that. The dreaded call to Madam Maxime's office came.
"Mademoiselle Granger, vot deed I say about zee conduct I expected of my students before vee left zee campus?". She had a copy of the dreaded periodical, turned to Skeeter's article. "'Ow does zis make Beaux Batons look?"
"It's that Rita Skeeter, she's had..."
"Zis ees not about Skeeter. Zere vould not be anyzing for 'er to write about eef you had stayed viz zee rest of your class at zee Ball, vould zere?"
"No, Ma'am".
"Vile I expected a certain amount of – 'ow shall vee say – boy/girl social interaction, zis ees going vay too far. I vont ask eef you did anyzing or not because zat no longer matters. Everyone vill zink you deed.
"Vot am I to do viz you, 'Ermione? You vill spend zee rest of zee term 'ere in zee airliner, or at 'Ogwarts for class. Ozzer zan zat, no 'Ogsmeade veekends, no going to see zee tasks. You vill go straight to class, and come straight back. If you are not in class, you vill remain 'ere. Ees zat understood, 'Ermione?"
"Yes, Ma'am".
Madam Maxime's punishment turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Not being at Hogwarts meant not being there to hear all the comments. Sure, some of the girls made snide remarks, and some Beaux Batons boys expected Hermione to put out for them as well. As for hateowls, Madam Maxime saw to it that these were intercepted. Some of them included toxic substances like raw bulbotuber pus. Professor Sprout grew it in the greenhouses, and refined it made for skin care potions. Unprocessed, the effects were nasty and painful, though not usually fatal.
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
At 8:00, Harry made his way to the lake, where he saw the boats the Firsties took waiting. Harry wore his winter cloak over a swim suit. He hoped that the warming charm would at least keep hypothermia at bay. Otherwise, the prospect of going for a swim was hardly appealing. The boat ferried the four champions across the lake where a floating platform awaited. The boats would be ferrying the audience later. He hoped that that platform wasn't too far from the merpeoples' territory.
"Right-o", Bagman greeted, "are we ready for the next task?", he asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be", Harry agreed.
"Then are we all clear on what you have to do?"
"I am", Harry agreed again.
The other three champions also knew, so Cedric and Viktor must've figured out the egg. They all were instructed to bring them to turn them back over to Bagman.
"You can warm up in the waiting room", he indicated where they should go. "Once the spectators are in the stand, and it's 9:30, I'll blow my whistle to start the second task. You will have one hour to complete it. Is that understood?"
"Yes", they all agreed.
Harry looked around, but still no Barty Crouch.
"Ummmm… Mr. Weasley", Harry asked, "Mr Crouch still isn't here?"
"I will be taking his place for the judging. I'm afraid his condition is more serious than he let us believe. He's still sending owls every day, and he trusts me completely to fulfill judging the Tournament".
"Still no word about Berta?"
"Not a peep. We do have investigators looking for her as we speak".
"'Bout damn time. Has anyone bothered to check up on Mr. Crouch?"
"He values his privacy. If he wanted visitors, he would invite them, so far, he hasn't and I see no reason to be bothering him".
"It seems so strange… he goes to all the trouble to reestablish the Tournament, yet doesn't come to the Ball or the next task. That doesn't seem right..."
"If he wants visitors, he'll ask. He's a big boy, yannow, and can take care of himself. He's still doing his job from home, and while he does, there's no reason to question him. I can assure you: I'd recognize if someone were forging the owlposts. I know my boss' handwriting. I would think you have more pressing matters to engage your attention, Mr. Potter".
Percy indicated that the conversation was over, but it still seemed that the Ministry was being very incurious, both as to the disappearance of one official, Berta Jorkins, and the sudden illness of another.
"Mornin' all", Harry announced as he entered the waiting room.
"Mornin'", they greeted back, but not quite so enthusiastically.
"So how'd you crack the egg?", Harry asked.
"It vas trail 'n' error", Viktor said. I tried everyzing else, and finally took it into zee lake".
"Same for me", Cedric replied. "I tried everything else, and figured it out just last night. You?"
Harry explained about the Star Trek movie he'd seen, and the sudden inspiration.
"Zat vuz in a muggle movie?"
"Sure was, so muggles aren't completely useless, are they?"
"I never thought so", Cedric explained, "I don't share Father's disdain for everything muggle. I'll have to look into that movie someday".
"What do you suppose is so important down there?", Cedric asked.
"No idea", Harry said, "nothing missing from my room that I noticed".
They could hear the footsteps of the arriving spectators climbing into the stands. It wouldn't be too much longer.
Finally Bagman arrived to cast the warming charms over each contestant. Harry hoped he was playing this straight. If he wasn't, Harry knew he'd be in big trouble seconds after diving into the frigid water.
"Last night something you value dearly was taken from each one of you. It is your mission to recover that from the merpeople. They are clear as to the role they are playing in the task. They won't interfere, neither will they help you in any way. It will be up to you to make your recovery and be back at the platform before 10:30 sharp. Are there any last minute questions?"
There were none.
"Right-o, shall we go?"
He led them to the edge of the platform to begin his announcement:
"Welcome to the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. The mission of our Champions is to recover something we took last night, something they value greatly, from the merpeople. They will have exactly one hour to recover what was taken, and to be back on the platform. They will be judged on the speed of recovery, the level of ingenuity in accomplishing this task, and how they deal with the hazards awaiting them down below.
"Champions! Wands ready! On my mark..."
He blew the whistle as the clock above the stands struck 9:30. Harry dived in, and didn't feel the icy cold. The water seemed very chilly, but hypothermia wouldn't be a problem as long as he kept moving. He cast the Bubble Head Charm, and slipped under the surface. Even though the bubble surrounding his head seemed as fragile as a soap bubble, it was tough enough to stand the pressure as it worked like a dive helmet. He could see clearly as he began his dive.
Silver fish flashed by, but there was no sign of the squid. That was good as he couldn't spare the time to play with it if it got frisky. So far, no sign of merfolk. The bottom came into view, and Harry understood why this task was scheduled for the middle of winter: very little algae to darken the water. So far, nothing exciting to see, just mud. No sign of the other champions either.
He figured they'd be pretty deep, so he took out his wand: "Point me", he cast the direction finding charm that made his wand function like a compass. It was a useful spell he'd seen in one of the spell books he'd studied. Every once in awhile, shapes appeared ahead, but were nothing more than logs blackened by decay, or large stones. Still no sign of the merfolk. The quiet was eerie, but not unexpected as Black Lake didn't have muggle motorboats ever operating on it.
A field of gently waving green fronds lay ahead. Nothing like the kelp beds of the Pacific he'd seen in nature documentaries back home. This looked more like a meadow. Suddenly, something grabbed his ankle. He whipped around: a grindylowe. He pulled his wand from its holster: "Relashio!", he cast the releasing spell.
The wand shot forth a jet of what looked like steam. That made the grindylowe let go, but more were coming, grabbing at him, trying to pull him into the weeds. "Stupify!", he fired at another. "Impedimentia!", he shot over his shoulder as he swam away as fast as he could, cursing himself all the while for forgetting what he learned about these water demons in DADA. That's what they liked to do: lurk in tall underwater weeds to pull under the unsuspecting. They undoubtedly accounted for drownings of muggles that otherwise went unexplained, usually blamed on freak undercurrents.
Finally over the "meadow", he looked back. Angry red splotches appeared on the grindylowe's skin where the steaming water hit him. His companions shook their fists at him from the edge of the green fronds.
He looked all around, but still no sign of the other champions, no sign of the squid either. He checked his watch: 30 minutes left, and he hadn't a clue. He held his breathe and strained to hear through the silence.
Was he imagining things? Maybe, or maybe not, as he thought he heard something. He tried to locate the direction. Soon, there was something:
An hour long you have to look
To recover what we took
Your time's half done so tarry not
Lest what you seek stays here to rot
There was a large stone ahead, and he could see it had paintings of mermen who were carrying tridents, and looked to be a hunting party after the giant squid, or one of its ancestors. He wondered how they managed that, what they used to paint underwater. He pressed on, and soon stone houses appeared from the gloom ahead. The walls green with algae, and the faces of the inhabitants pressing their faces against the glass. They looked nothing like the painting of the fairy tale mermaid in the prefects' bathroom. Their hair green, long, and uncombed. Their skin a light gray. Their eyes yellow, as were their teeth.
They had front yards planted with that same green weed, and one had a pet grindylowe tethered to a stake. He knew he must be on the fringes of a merpeople village. More stone houses appeared, though larger and fancier. Some even sporting gingerbread. Some of the merfolk came out to get a better look, and to cheer him onward as they waved their tridents.
Finally, he came to the village square which was lined with merpeople spectators. The centerpiece of the village square was a large statue of some merperson hero. There was a placard explaining who this was, but it was written in Mermish. Four people were tied to the tail of the statue. He quickly recognized Pansy, Hermione, Gabrielle, and Cho Chang. Pansy was tied by a foot with thick, green rope obviously woven from those green fronds. It was thick and tough. He couldn't break it. He could see Pansy was OK, as a thin stream of bubbles escaped her lips. He looked all around: where were the others?
He approached a merman spectator, motioning to borrow his trident. He pulled it back: "We do not help", he said in English with a laugh. He tried untying the knot around her ankle, then around the tail of the merman, but neither would budge. He looked around on the ground for something, anything. He spotted what looked like a crude stone knife. Its edge sharper than he expected. He figured it was left there deliberately. No one had any reason to expect they'd need a knife. He began to cut away at the frond rope. After a couple of minutes, it began to give way. Pansy began to slowly float towards the surface, but where were the others? There wasn't much time left…
He spotted a shape coming. This looked like a half-man/half shark – like an animagus who didn't quite get it right, or a badly done cross species transfiguration. Viktor Krum or Cedric? He was trying to bite through Hermione's bindings, so Viktor. The problem was he was doing it with jaws more suited to biting a full grown seal in half. Before he accidentally did that to Hermione, Harry sharply tapped a shoulder to offer him the knife. He got to work, and Harry took Pansy to the surface. It was slow going, but as they surfaced, Pansy spat out a stream of water.
"I'm OK", she reassured.
"You up to helping? I'm not such a good swimmer".
Krum bobbed to the surface with Hermione, followed soon after by Cedric and Cho Chang.
"You seen Fleur?", Harry called out.
"She didn't make it", Cedric said.
The platform was a good quarter mile off, and Cedric, being a powerful swimmer, soon over took Harry and Viktor. He got there first, followed by Viktor, then Harry. They were accompanied by a group of merpeople. It became obvious that the merfolk were taking care of all of them in case anyone needed help. They could hear the audience cheering them onward from the stands.
When Cedric climbed onto the platform, the Badgers went wild with cheering. The same from the Durmstrang and Beaux Batons students as Viktor and Harry arrived right behind him.
Madam Maxime was doing her best to hold back a frantic Fleur. Her face and arms had numerous cuts and scrapes. She was brushing off Madam Pomphrey who was insisting on treating her.
"Vere izz Gabrielle?! Vere ees my leetle seester?! I 'ave to go back!"
"Not to worry, Miss Delacourt", Dumbledore was saying, "here she comes now", as he pointed to something out in the lake.
Gabrielle was being escorted by a large mermaid.
"Ess she alvight?!"
"She's as good as new", Dumbledore reassured, as he helped the girl onto the platform.
"Thank you, Madam Murcus for your assistance", Dumbledore said to the chief mermaid in Mermish.
"You are quite welcome", she said, "you have some courageous students", she complimented. "Happy to be of some assistance for your contest".
Fleur hugged her sister tight: "Eet vas zee grindylowes, zey attacked me! I zaught I lost you!"
Hermione and Viktor were discussing something they didn't quite hear.
"Hermi-own-ninny, you haff a vater beetle in your hair. Here...", as he flicked it away.
"Inside!", Pomphrey ordered. "Warming potion and hot chocolate". She also had heavy blankets for all the champions and hostages. "You can get your scores later".
There would be no arguing with her, and they knew it.
They each, champions and hostages, received a draught of Pepper-Upper potion and a mug of hot chocolate to wash it down. Pomphrey was finally able to tend to Fleur's wounds.
"You don't want to get these infected", she remonstrated over the delay.
When Madam Pomphrey was satisfied everyone was OK, none suffering the effects of hypothermia, she released them to hear how they'd done. The results were disappointing.
"Cedric Diggory was back with his hostage first", Bagman began his announcement.
There was pandemonium from the section where the Hufflepuff's sat.
"However", Bagman held up his hands to quiet them, "he arrived at the platform one minute past the deadline. As none of the champions completed this task in the allotted time, all are disqualified..."
He was interrupted by loud booing. He waited until the crowd settled down.
"The standings remain as they were at the end of the first task", he continued. "We will meet again for the third – and final – challenge in three months at dusk, the 24th of May. The champions will be informed as to the nature of the challenge one month in advance. Thank you all for coming out to support your champions".
"That was disappointing", Harry said to Pansy, as they rode the boats back to Hogwarts, "all that work and fuss over those damned eggs for nothing".
"It wasn't a complete waste of time, was it? You did get to see the merfolk. How were they?"
"They were fine, it looked like an event for them as well".
Harry described for her what he'd seen of the merpeople and their village. The gathering of merfolk in the village square to see how the human champions did.
"There's one thing", he said, "how do they have glass panes and steel tridents and other tools to make huge carvings? How do you melt sand and iron to cast window glass and forge tools underwater? I wonder what other tech they have?"
"That's a good question", she agreed. "I don't suppose they'd tell us if we asked?"
"I don't see how. They seem to be quite insular. They don't seem to want to have anything to do with us, and the only reason they helped was as a special favour to Dumbledore. So what happened?"
"We were brought to Dumbledore's office well after Lights Out. That's when Dumbledore explained what the task was, and our part in it. He explained that there was no danger, and that the merfolk would make certain none of us actually drowned. He used a stasis charm, and the merfolk took care of the rest. The next thing we knew is that we were in the lake, on our way back to the platform.
"I figured as much, but I double checked with the Professor before the task. Not wanting to see that song come true: 'What we've taken will stay here to rot' – not a pleasant thought".
"If I thought that were a possibility, I'd've hit him with a curse, Azkaban or no Azkaban", she agreed. "I think we all would have".
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
Dear Harry,
Good job with the second ordeal. Pleased to see that nothing went wrong, even though the lake would provide excellent cover for an attack or a convenient "accident". It would seem that our plan to co-opt Ludo Bagman was successful, as he didn't sabotage your warming charm nor did he concoct some excuse to award you more points despite that none of you accomplished your task in time. It looks like any attempts against you will happen during the time of the third ordeal. That makes good strategic sense, though it leaves just the one opportunity, to instill a sense of false security. Be sure you don't fall for it.
P.S. When is your next Hogsmeade weekend? There is something we need to discuss. I would do this by owlpost, but it's your godfather. He's getting more and more antsy by the day. Can you bring food with you?
Regards,
Lucius Lutra
Harry sent back the date of the next Hogsmeade weekend, which would be in a couple of weeks. Now that the second task was behind him, he quickly got his grades back in order. The only distraction was everyone wanted to hear all about what the merpeople were like, and the descriptions of their village. With the Hogsmeade event upcoming, Harry asked the Twins about the kitchens.
"Getting in is easy, George explained, "you go down to the first floor, like you're going to the dungeons, but in the opposite direction. If you get lost, just ask a Badger: their Common Room is near the kitchens. Then just tickle the pear, and you're in".
"You don't have to worry, the house elves are quite willing to please and never rat you out to the Professor. We go down there all the time. We'll go with you", Fred said. "Best to go in the afternoon, when they're not so busy".
Harry met up with the Twins at mid-afternoon. Fortunately, he didn't have any classes, though the Twins were skiving yet again. However, it was Magical History with the ghost: Binns. In the main hall, they headed in the opposite direction from the Slytherin Common Room, and down a flight of stairs. Unlike the dungeons, this corridor was well lit without the gloom. Murals covered the walls, all still lifes of bowls of fruit and platters of food. One was a bowl of fruits of various kinds, and a large green pear. Fred tickled the pear and it began to squirm and giggle. Finally, it turned into a green door handle and the entrance appeared.
Hogwarts kitchen was an enormous facility, with a massive fireplace opposite the entrance. Copper kettles and mixing bowls, polished to mirror finishes, lined the walls. There were also iron skillets. Wood fired ovens and ranges. Preparation tables that were the right height to accommodate the elves stood directly below the serving tables of the Great Hall, so the food could be sent up.
"Master Harry", Tippy greeted. The other elves, males bowed, and females curtsied, in greeting.
"You know each other?", Fred asked.
"Oh, yeah, we've worked together before", Harry didn't explain further.
"Would masters please come?", Tippy said, as he led them to the fireplace. Seated on a low stool was a sad sight.
"W...winky?", Harry recognized Crouch's house elf from the World Cup. Her tomato nose hard to forget. She was wearing what at one time looked like a nice blouse and skirt, now filthy. It was obvious she wasn't bathing. Empty butterbeer bottles lay scattered around.
"She's up to six a day", Tippy said.
"Doesn't sound too bad, butterbeer's not that strong", Harry said.
"Tis strong for a house elf", he explained.
"You remember me?", Harry asked.
"Where is your companion with the big hair and subversive mouth?", Winky looked up with watery eyes and spoke with a furry tongue.
"You mean Hermione? She couldn't come. What happened?"
"Winky has nowhere else to go, so she came to 'Ogwarts. No one wants a disgraced elf… My poor master, my poor Mr. Crouch… no Winky to take care of him no more".
"I'm sure he'll get along", George told her. "So he has to do his own housework, he'll get used to it. Might even do him some good".
"You doan understand… Winky does more than house work. Winky is... Winky is... a con... con...".
"A confidant?", Harry asked.
"What you said, after his missus passed, he have on one else besides Winky".
"You wouldn't happen to know if your departure had anything to do with why Mr. Crouch isn't coming to the Tournament events? Has he been ill?"
"Master… not come?"
"Haven't seen him since November", Harry explained.
"Poor master… poor master… no Winky to take care of him no more. I is not surprised… That Bagman… he bad, bad wizard..."
"You're not the only one to say that, can you tell us why Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard? Did he do something to Mr. Crouch?"
"Now you nosin'. Winky is good elf. I is keeping Master's secrets".
"It could be important, and lives could be at stake".
"You nosin like Bushy Hair… Winky is good elf; Winky not say nothin' Winky not betray master's trust".
"When Crouch dismissed you, all your obligations to him ended. You know that".
"Winky still good elf, do not ask Winky to lower herself any more..."
They weren't going to get any more from her as she passed out. A couple of elves covered her.
"You could make an effort to cheer her up, not cover her up", Harry said.
"Disgraceful, we is sorry master had to see that. When there's work to be done, masters to serve an elf don't need no cheering up".
"She's sad, and misses her old master..."
"A house elf has no right to be sad! When there's work, elf is happy".
This is something Harry knew he'd have to mention to Lucius.
"I was wondering if we could get some leftovers", Harry got to the point.
"What were you needing?"
"Chicken, ham, veggies".
The elves' eyes lit up: "Right away master", one said.
They loaded him up with a dozen fried chicken legs, a ham, roast beef, boiled red skin potatoes with melted parmesian in garlic sauce, chocolate eclairs, pies and puddings. They even provided a carrying case with stasis charm to keep everything fresh. Fred and George loaded up as well. Harry knew Sirius would appreciate it.
"So they don't feed you well in the airliner?", George asked
"It's for a friend. Don't ask".
Getting to Hogsmeade was easy with the invisibility cloak and the passage under the whomping willow. This time, there would be no exception: Fourth Years and up. Lucius' return post said to go to the stile at the end of the lane out of Hogsmeade, past Dervish and Bangs at about 2:30.
Harry had never come this way before, as most Hogsmeade weekends ended at the Three Broomsticks or Madam Puddifoot's or the other shops towards the center of the town. Past Dervish and Bangs, the winding lane was leading towards open country and the foot of the mountain that towered over Hogsmeade. The cottages thinned out, but their yards and gardens were larger.
At the stile, a big black shaggy dog was waiting, paws on the topmost bar, tail wagging. Harry looked around before taking off the Cloak.
"Hello, godfather", Harry greeted.
The dog sniffed at Harry's pocket eagerly before trotting off, across the scrubby ground that led to the foot of the mountain. He climbed over the stile to follow. Going up the mountain was a good deal easier on four feet than two. He followed the wagging tail up a very rough, winding trail that sometimes all but disappeared completely. Sirius sometimes woofed encouragement, as it was hard going. Half an hour later, the tail disappeared. Harry saw a narrow fissure in the rock face where Sirius disappeared.
The small cave was cool and well illuminated. Sirius returned to human form, but wasn't alone.
"Long time, no see", Harry greeted Lucius.
"Hello Harry, been awhile", Lucius agreed.
He took the pack of food from a pocket and reversed the charm that shrank it to a more convenient size.
"Fried chicken!", Sirius dug in. "You have no idea how sick of fish I am".
"What's this all about? Why take such a dangerous chance, especially coming here to Hogsmeade?"
"Your godfather insisted", Lucius explained. "It's not easy, being cooped up in Owlery Holt for so long. He was most insistent, and your godfather can be most persuasive, as you well know".
"You, Lucius, and Dumbledore are the only non-Marauders who know I'm an animagus", Sirius explained, "so it's not so much of a risk, certainly not enough to keep me from seeing my favourite godson, to get out into fresh air and sunshine. I have twelve years' worth to catch up on, yannow.
"Help yourself", Sirius indicated the platters of food he brought.
"I'll do just that", Harry agreed.
"How 'bout you?", Harry said to Lucius between mouthfuls of ham and chicken.
"It smells delightful, but people food is very bad for otters and ferrets. I must decline".
After eating his fill: "So what's this all about?", Harry asked.
"It concerns Barty Crouch and his sudden, mystery illness", Lucius explained. "Percy Weasley's explanation of overwork and the need to recover as the excuse for missing that Triwizard Ball was plausible enough. It doesn't take this long to recover from a simple case of overwork. I went by Crouch's home, and as far as I could see, no one's been living there for at least two or three months", Lucius said.
"I know Barty Crouch quite well, Harry, and if he ever took a sick day, I'll eat Lucius here..."
"Hey!"
"You know what I mean", Sirius explained. "The one word that best describes Barty is driven. He was a real hard-ass back during the last war when he headed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He matched the Death Eaters in savagery, authorized the use of Unforgivables, and kill on sight orders. He's a powerful wizard, and power hungry. Don't misunderstand: he would never ally himself with Whatshisname, his hatred for black magic and dark mages is sincere. However the means he chose were every bit as bad as those of his opponents. He always believed he was destined to be one of the youngest Ministers of Magic, and worked relentlessly for that goal. He was the one who put me – and I wasn't the only one – in Azkaban without a trial, and who kept me there all those years. He was all too willing to overlook the niceties of the law, like the right to a fair and speedy trial, for instance. You know he sentenced his own son to Azkaban?"
"Dumbledore showed me his memory of that", Harry explained.
"I was there when they brought him in, couldn't've been much more than nineteen. By that evening, he was crying for his mother. After a few days, he went silent. They always do, unless they're screaming in their sleep. Just lose the will to live. You can always tell when there's going to be a death as the dementors get more excited than usual. Barty Crouch Jr was always a sickly boy: I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did. After about a year, he died. Being Barty Crouch, he got a death bed visit, he and Mrs Crouch. He didn't even send for the body, and the dementors buried him outside the fortress. I watched them do it.
"A major crisis brings out the best in some, and the worst in others. Barty Crouch fits the latter. At the time, people were all too willing to look the other way. After all, they reasoned, Crouch was doing it for a good cause. He was freeing them from the terror Whatshisname was creating. It wasn't until after Whatshisname ceased being a threat and Barty Jr died that doubts began to spread. There was sympathy for the boy that he never got when he was alive, when it would have made a difference. People asked how such a promising young man from such a good and prominent family could go so wrong. They sympathized with his mother, whose death shortly followed: stricken down by grief. They began to ask if old Barty should have spent less time at the office and more time getting to know his own son. If he was that indifferent to his own immediate family, how could he be trusted with the Minister's office? The public is notoriously fickle, so Barty's popularity waned, support for becoming Minister dried up. Cornelius Fudge became Minister, and Barty was given a sideways promotion into the Department of International Magical Co-operation. There was a considerable pay increase and an Order of Merlin, First Class thrown in for good measure, but he was denied a position from which he could ever use to become the Minister".
"So was his son guilty?"
"I honestly don't know. Barty Jr was caught in the company of some very dubious characters, and some of Whatshisname's worst of the worst. I don't know if he went willingly, involuntarily, or if he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't know if he took the Dark Mark or not. All I do know is that Barty Jr became a liability to his father's ambition and so he had to go. I doubt Crouch cared one way or the other.
"To this day, Crouch believes that catching one more Death Eater will see him recover his old popularity. To say it's a mania with him is an understatement. This is why it's so unlike him to suddenly drop off the radar like he's apparently done".
"Percy says he's conducting business via owl post", Harry repeated what he'd heard from Percy.
"Sirius is right: it doesn't fit his pattern, and I don't like it when patterns suddenly don't fit", Lucius said. "Other than owlposts, there's no evidence he's even alive. Percy claims he knows his boss' handwriting, but what experience in documents does he have? Expert forgers have been fooling experts for centuries.
"Have you noticed anything amiss at Hogwarts?"
"No, nothing. The second ordeal went off without a hitch, other than we weren't given enough time to complete it. We were all disqualified for being over the time limit".
"No impostors appearing on the Map?"
Harry was hoping he didn't ask that: "Last time I checked… no… I had to lend it to Moody".
"Harry! That's the last thing you should have done!"
"I had to, Moody covered for me with Filch and Snape after I sneaked into the prefects' bathroom to hear the egg's message..."
"That was foolish, you should have taken whatever detentions they pleased to lay on you. What could they do? You're not even a student! Maybe a tongue lashing from Dumbledore and Maxime. You should have kept that Map".
"I think we can trust Alistair Moody. He was an auror, yannow".
"I knew him", Sirius said. "He was always tough, but not like Crouch: he never sacrificed his integrity. Always brought in suspects alive unless he couldn't help it. Never allowed himself to sink to the same depths as the Death Eaters. He has a reputation for being a jinx-happy paranoiac, but considering everything he's seen – done – that's understandable. There is more than one reason why they call him 'Mad Eye'. As with everything else, it's an exaggeration, one which he probably cultivated to make him seem more intimidating. Why did he want the Map?"
"Said he found it useful. I suppose he's doing the same: looking out for infiltrators and impostors".
"I still don't like it, Harry's having to depend on anyone else to detect potential dangers", Lucius objected.
"There is one thing I recently learned", Harry said.
"Oh?", Lucius and Sirius asked.
"Crouch's house elf, Winky, is at Hogwarts. Last time I saw her, she was really lit up, but she did mention something about what a bad wizard Ludo Bagman is. I know Crouch never thought highly of Bagman, considering him unworthy of a Ministry post, so I suppose she'd parrot that opinion. She alluded to some dark secrets about Mr. Crouch".
"Did she say..."
"Couldn't get anything out of her. She still thinks of Crouch as her master, and refused to divulge what she knows even though the enchantment's broken".
"That is interesting… looks like I'll be paying her a visit".
"I don't see how. She's in the kitchens all day, drinking herself silly on butterbeer. Elves all over all day. You'd be seen. Doesn't look like she's long for this world: getting dismissed has taken her will to live".
"Let me worry about that. We need to know even if I have to pry it out of her mind. I'd like to borrow your Invisibility Cloak. Don't risk coming up here again, just owl it after you get back to Hogwarts".
"Send more goodies", Sirius requested.
"On one condition", Harry said.
"And that would be?"
"No prowling Hogsmeade, even as Padfoot. At the very least, I'm not looking forward to rescuing you from the animal shelter".
Hogwarts: Double Potions
Professor Snape was riding the Gryffindor's hard as usual.
"How about we break up this happy trio? Mr. Pot-ter, up front by my desk. Hermione, you work with Miss Parkinson, and you Mr Malfoy: you work with the rest of the Slytherin students. Mr. Longbottom needs to learn his lessons on his own. I do not tolerate cheating, is that understood?"
Today's lesson was the Forgetfulness Potion. Once again, Snape was accusing Neville of receiving unauthorized help to complete the assignment. Ever since his success with the Shrinking Potion, Snape was giving him extra scrutiny.
Harry knew better than to argue. He made it obvious he didn't want Harry in his class, but had to accept him as a Beaux Batons student.
Snape stopped by Dean Thomas' cauldron and stopped him from adding something: "Do these scarabs look powered to you, Mr. Thomas? Ten points from Gryffindor"
"Unacceptable Mr. Weasley", Snape emptied Ron's cauldron with a wave of his wand. "Start over, and another twenty points from Gryffindor".
Snape stopped by Neville's cauldron, but said nothing. He found nothing wrong, but denied him any sort of compliment.
Half way through the class, they were interrupted by the arrival of Igor Karkarov.
"We need to talk..."
"After my class..."
"No, now, before you can slip away again. You've been avoiding me..."
"After. My. Class, Igor. Now isn't the time".
"Fine, I'll wait".
That's just what he did: stood behind Snape while the lesson was underway. Harry got a real case of the slows, cleaning up and putting away.
"We have to talk", Igor was saying as the students were filing out of the room.
"What is so urgent?", Snape asked.
Harry ducked under the desk, to clean up some armadillo bile he accidentally-on-purpose spilled to delay his leaving.
"This!", as Karkarov rolled up his left sleeve. "It hasn't been this clear in over ten years!"
"Put. That. Away", Snape drawled…
Pot-ter! Just what do you think you're doing?!", he snapped.
"Nothing, just cleaning up..."
"Leave it: pack up and get out!"
"Yes, Professor"
"You can't deny this is happening...", Harry heard Karkarov say as he stepped into the hall. He didn't need to hear the rest. He knew all about it already. Karkarov was increasingly worried, and was seeking answers from Snape, or he wanted to enlist him for something. That he was having second thoughts over being a Death Eater was a given. As to why, turning state's evidence against so many of Voldemort's minions wasn't making him very popular with those followers.
That evening, after supper, Harry went to the kitchen to reload the food carrier with more goodies for Sirius. At the owlery, he shrunk down the package to make it more convenient for owling.
"Hedwig, have a job for you".
The snowy owl flew down from the rafters to land on his shoulder.
"Just a short flight this time, up to the mountain above Hogsmeade. Deliver it to Lucius and Sirius".
Hedwig gave a hoot of understanding before flying out of the owlery.