30th November 1994
Beauxbatons
The rumour mill was a formidable creature, weeks later and all the population of over two thousand students could talk or think about was what the next task might be, there were even betting pools.
While the wizarding world giggled and gossiped about the Tri-wizard tournament there were fundamental changes in the shadows.
As a whole, the wizarding world was very small, barely even seventy million wizards occupied the vast plains of Planet Earth.
With seven million wizards in Europe, nobody noticed the swift downfall of Serbia, Macedonia and their combined population of ten thousand becoming a part of the Magical Bulgarian Empire. News did not spread quickly in a dictatorship, especially to the outside world, when most of the population was being brainwashed. As the magical empire grew, so did its army and operations. The current population was around 42,000 people. Fifteen thousand of those wizards and witches were either too young or too old to fight. A further fifteen thousand or so were already well into their middle ages, they were trained as reserve soldiers by the Bulgarian Aurors, up to the standards of the average British Auror. Seven thousand Imperial Aurors.
The current standing army of the Bulgarian nation, 1,400 of which were Basilisk task force commanders. If you wanted to be a commander in the army you had to join the Basilisk task force. The army worked in teams of five, two Aurors for attacking, one for defending, one for healing and the commander who could give orders and help where necessary.
All Bulgarian Aurors had been through hell and back, they were professional, co-ordinated and powerful individually. A testament to what superior brainwashing techniques could achieve in soldiers. The woefully unprepared bureaucrats that claimed to be wizards were easy pickings for the army and there was currently no official magical army in any other country. Currently, the only forces ready for war were Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, and Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Both sides were completely unaware of the third opponent and hadn't even properly mobilised their fighters yet. Voldemort was still a baby and Dumbledore was still holding onto the hope that no war would occur.
It amazed Ares that no-one else had noticed this power vacuum, waiting for someone to gather power in the shadows and pick up the ashes when the two sides stopped fighting.
However, Britain wasn't the only power in the world and America was a whole other cauldron of issues. Ares wasn't even sure there weren't other races with magical abilities in America. Other magical species might have existed after all.
A prime example of this was the next task, it corresponded to the metal element and the dwarven race had been invited to build the stadium for the event, one that was sure to be full of tricks and traps. It was currently being built on the grounds and would be ready by the first week of December.
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Somewhere in the dark recesses of Siberia
The dark wizard ring 'Crow's Eye' had successfully taken control of the Siberian wasteland over a year and a half ago. They had killed all the rowdy and non-obedient natives before recruiting the remainder. The founders of Crow's Eye were originally members of a dark syndicate based all over Europe, until twenty years ago Dumbledore had unwittingly forced them into hiding.
Two hundred Eastern European's had moved East and slowly gathered power, recruiting from Asia's massive population and gathering the weakest and lowest of the low until they had nearly ten thousand official members. Darius Sejiovich was ex-Ukrainian special forces and a dark wizard. Unlike prejudiced and mediocre wizards, magically weak wizards had to adapt and quite a few had joined muggle armies to get training. The average wizard did not focus on physical fitness and strength, this gave wizards like Darius the chance to kill them, through physical superiority before magical power even came into the equation. He and his band of mercenaries had just finished massacring a local rebel village who had refused to pay tax when they received a message.
One of the ten leaders of the organisation and the older brother of Darius always gave his allies the best missions he could, after all, nepotism was a necessity for dark organisations. The latest request he had received was from their agents in Ukraine. The most western outpost they currently had. It was a request for support in the face of the growing threat caused by Bulgaria's expansionist foreign policy. Crow's Eye had known for a while that Bulgaria was going through a massive upheaval, Romania, Serbia and Macedonia existed only in name now. They were well and truly part of Bulgaria's influence and sooner or later would probably just be absorbed into the conquering country's borders. The dark wizard mercenaries were always happy to kill Light wizards, many individual groups within the organisation signed up to move west and join the imminent battle.
The ominous castle stood at the foot of one of the many mountains, overlooking the lake as hundreds of dark wizards and witches appeared by broom and flight. There were even muggle vehicles.
A veritable army of dark wizards that would make Voldemort jealous was gathering, not to protect something they believed in, but for pure profit.
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Beauxbatons
Dumbledore's temporary office,
Sirius had been kind enough to share the mirror communication technology with the Order, even if he had yet to fully re-join.
He had the unexpected pleasure of a call from Andromeda Tonks late at night, Minerva had lent the woman the mirror to reach him as a favour.
"Albus I don't know what you are doing to my daughter, but it will stop, or I'll come over and cause a bloody international incident!" Snapped the scowling woman.
Albus looked back at her puzzled,
Of course, he made Tonks do many things, he had even wanted her to seduce the Royal prince of Bulgaria, but the guards hadn't let her through.
There were many things Andromeda could be talking about, but he wasn't going to admit to anything until he knew just how much he had to tell her.
"Whatever do you mean Andromeda? Last I heard Miss Nymphadora had set off for Bulgaria in a generous outreach plan to help train the less fortunate Aurors of our counterpart in Eastern Europe." Albus replied, eyes twinkling.
"You're a dodgy old bastard, she's back now, and even if she's trying to hide it, she has changed. Not necessarily for the better either! I'm her mother and I know she never had the look she does now in her eyes. It reminds me of Bellatrix after she joined Voldemort. You better give me a good explanation! She's leaving in a couple of days on a mission for Britain with an unknown time limit!" She snarled.
Albus had a moment of realisation, 'all the time she has spent with me has turned her into my fanatic'
Alas, it was one of the woes he faced from being so powerful and respected.
"Andromeda you are looking too deeply into this; she just has a dedication to the safety of the light and the greater good. There is nothing wrong with her, I'm sure of it." The Headmaster replied.
The mirror suddenly turned off; Andromeda had quit the call in her anger.
Satisfied with his dealing with her, Albus turned back to the latest letter he had received, at first to his dismay and then to his great pleasure.
Gellert Grindelwald had been his best friend and lover in the 1930s and Albus would have been lying to himself if he said he didn't regret banishing him to Nuremberg.
The letter he had received was from the Dark Wizard himself, after having escaped his prison Gellert claimed he had turned over a new leaf and had given Albus news that changed everything.
Forget Voldemort, if what Gellert said was true, Holy Relics had returned to Earth. Each relic was equivalent to one of the Deathly Hallows. The ones he knew of all possessed remarkable abilities, for example, the Holy Grail, it was the ultimate Philosophers stone, created with the son of God's blood. The Holy Sceptre of St Peter was able to send all undead, ghosts and spirits to the afterlife without fail and if Albus could get his hands on it then Voldemort's soul pieces could be banished all at once. If the Dark Lord learned of its return, he would no doubt reveal his return immediately in a desperate attempt to conceive a body that could protect his remaining soul from the relic's power. The chains of St Peter could bind anyone unless they had divine power equivalent to a God. The Crown of Thorns could cure someone of all illness and weakness both spiritually and physically. So many others existed as well, not all as powerful, but the world was sure to suffer an upheaval.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore procures Holy relics to save Britain!
What a wonderful newspaper title.
The biggest downside was the creation of demons, after all, you can't have Holy relics without a balance. As only people who believed they were righteous and just could use the relics, so too could people who were selfish and possessed at least one of the seven sins use demonic artefacts. The most powerful ones being the sigils of the Seven sins.
If a normal muggle encountered a sigil they would become the embodiment of that Sin, gaining immense power, but losing their mind until they were obsessed with only their Sin, they were at most high-level demons. If a wizard or another magical species encountered a Sigil not only would they gain immense power, but they would keep most of their mental state intact, enough to fight rationally and concoct schemes. They were at minimum high-level demons. Albus had lived for a very long time, he also knew of several associations that hunted demons for a living. The classifications of Demons were as follows:
Lucifer (God of Demons)
Kings of Hell
Grand Dukes of Hell
Dukes of Hell
Lords of Hell
Knights of Hell
High ranked demons of Hell
Middle ranked demons of Hell
Low ranked demons of Hell
Albus had only learned later but the purity of a demon's blood also decided how powerful they were within a rank. If a Low ranked demon had more of Lucifer's blood than a Middle-ranked demon, then they were more powerful. Among the kings of Hell, Lilith stood the strongest due to the immense purity of her blood. If they had pure blood they were referred to as Archdemons.
Angels, on the other hand, were ranked as follows:
God (creator of everything)
Archangels
Captain
Corporal
Soldier
They had taken on military ranks as their hierarchy and their power within ranks was decided through the number of wings. Like blood purity, the more wings they had meant the higher the rank above them they could challenge. Angel soldiers with two pairs of wings could fight and defeat Corporals with only a single pair of wings.
A Corporal with two pairs of wings could slay thousands of high ranked demons and Knights of Hell.
Dumbledore himself believed himself to be of the level of an angel soldier with two pairs of wings. That was a generous estimate.
If Angels and Demons were returning to Earth then it was going to take a lot just to keep the planet intact, let alone the people on it alive.
The Holy Sceptre of St Peter had a very basic version of the Angelic smite ability.
However, Albus had a cunning plan, he had acquired from Gellert both the ritual to summon a demon and the ritual to summon an angel. If he proved himself to either of them, he could join their ranks.
With this his plan to defeat Voldemort had gotten a whole lot easier, after all, an Angelic Chosen one could very easily defeat a demonised Voldemort. How best to slip the demonic ritual to Voldemort though?
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The Magical United States of America
Los Angeles
A homeless muggle lay dying on the floor of an alley, his life over he had prayed to God for forgiveness.
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
*gasp*
The previously dead body rose from the ground and stood up wearily.
He found a crowbar stuck in his gut, eight kilos of steel weighing heavily.
An arm reached down and wrenched the steel rod out, bending it out of shape and letting his guts fall out as well. Satisfied now that the bar was gone the man covered the wound with his hand and there was a flash of white.
His wounds healed the homeless man seemed to be following a set path, inbuilt Psychic navigation, he walked out into the street, his bloody appearance causing everyone to swerve around him. He soon found a church. The priest greeted him happily, "My son, what is your name? What can God do for you?"
The homeless man stood up straight and smiled,
"My name is Cassiel, a soldier of God."
All around the world angels were appearing in the bodies of the recently pious deceased. Of the thousand angels who descended, more than half had been reborn in the Middle East. There were many more martyrs available to the descending angels.
They were all at the rank of a soldier, but their number of wings differed greatly, there as even an Angel with three pairs of wings.
They were the vanguard sent down by heaven to defend against the incoming demons. That was: if they weren't already on Earth.
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Magical Sofia
1st December 1994
The fundamental reason witches and wizards didn't rule the world was lack of numbers, this was proven by the Salem Witch trials. The muggles failed to catch any real wizards and witches, but the point was that their superior numbers allowed them to hunt down and capture the occasional real wizard. If they hadn't been so focused on stupid trials the wizards would never have had time to use magic to escape.
If wizards and witches were revealed to the real world what would happen? They could never live openly, only safe in the fact muggles had no way to discover them.
So, what if muggles were given magic? Every single one of them gained a magical core and could practice spells. You can't persecute the majority; they would become a part of the Wizarding world. Artificial cores size can be regulated, so long as the powerful wizards and witches stayed more powerful there was no chance of the artificial wizards and witches taking over.
Basilisk 3 had been bestowed the honour of finding a way to gift muggles magic. Not because Ares thought everyone deserved magic but because he wanted to rule the world openly. It was always nice to be worshipped by billions instead of millions. World Governments would fall, especially since only some of the newly born wizards and witches would have the ability to express magic without a wand. They would dominate. That was until Ares came along and gifted wands to the populace. He would be seen as a saviour and as he would have conquered the magical world by then he would have complete control of the sources of magical knowledge, with the ability to gain others loyalty by simply tossing them a book.
Although learning how to gift muggles magic was in the very distant future the research centre had made a massive breakthrough. After experimenting on over five hundred magical humans they had learnt how to compress and package magic.
In the middle of a battle when Bulgarian Aurors were running out of magic, no problem, a mana pill and their magic core could recover up to a third. However, it was a bit like a blood transfusion, it was someone else's magic so if you absorb more than you already had in your body the magic would fight back and could be very dangerous, the minimum danger being a limb blowing up.
Still, it was a massive advancement in the field of medical magical study and the comatose wizards and witches producing the mana pills weren't going anywhere. They could produce up to fifteen hundred pills a day, enough for the basilisk task force only. They were building up a stockpile, with a hundred extra pills on average a day, a heavily guarded warehouse had been built underground under the research centre. The research centre itself was under the Auror institute, which despite Auror Tonks beliefs was, in fact, one of the most secure buildings in the world with wards lining every square centimetre.
The mana pills were currently the largest advantage in their war in Hungary. The country had hired thousands of hit wizards to battle the Bulgarian Imperial Auror force. Hungary was losing heavily but it was still a blow to the timetable set by His Majesty. Basilisk 3 had been in the briefing room at Slytherin Fort when the task force had learned they had to take over Eastern Europe by the end of the Tri-wizard tournament.
Hungary was their first major obstacle, if the secret war took too long the ICW may take notice and then Bulgaria would have to back down. They weren't ready to fight MACUSA and their army. With a population nearing four hundred thousand witches and wizards along with policies and rules nearly as strict as Bulgaria's they were a fearsome opponent. That wasn't even including the Indian tribes that practised different magic and were powerful enough that they only needed to co-operate with the Magical Congress of the United States of America without being ruled by it.
Basilisk 3 had started something else as a side project, something he planned to reveal to his Lord when the time was right. While the mana pills were a massive step in the right direction Basilisk 3 believed he could take his research further and expand already existing magical cores up to three times their original size. The problem was it was very unstable at the moment, with a high chance of blowing up due to the magical fluctuations in the core being disrupted for too long while the core expanded. With enough effort, he believed he could devise a way that could expand the cores slowly and overtime to ensure they were able to stabilise every time they grew minutely. However, the process would only work on wizards past their maturity.
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Beauxbatons
Saturday 3rd December
It was a great hulking pyramid of steel, the dwarves were known for craftsmanship, not creativity, and beautifully crafted it was. Looming over the fields around it a sense of something ominous permeated the air.
It was time for the second task, metal element.
Monsieur Jacques Pickard stood up on the carefully set up podium before clearing his throat and beginning,
"Ladies and Gentlemen, you will be pleased to know the official second task of the Tri-wizard tournament will now begin. May I present our judges, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Headmistress Maxime Olympe, Headmaster Igor Karkaroff and His Eminence Nicholas Flamel. I once again have the honour to be judging alongside them."
Cheers broke out in the crowd; Sirius was giving last-minute advice to Harry and Narcissa was expressing her devotion to Ares on her knees in the champions private tent. The magical overlord of Bulgaria appeared as Monsieur Pickard began explaining the task.
"All contestants will enter the pyramid at the same time, the aim is to bring back a golden bell from the top of the pyramid. There is a time limit of two hours. There is a special prize hidden in the pyramid in the form of a letter, guaranteeing the holder full points even if they miss the time limit. In this task, you will be allowed to steal fellow opponents' bells, with an award of ten extra points for every bell you successfully bring back outside of the pyramid. You can only take only one bell from the Hall of Resonance in the Pyramid. The main event will begin in five minutes."
The four contestants received last-minute advice and lined up at the start line.
"Go!" Came the cry followed by a bang as a wand let loose sparks.
Ares ran into the first corridor, which was deceivingly bare, with no furniture or decoration. Suspicious he slowed to a halt while Harry and Fleur rushed ahead, Viktor turned to stand next to his liege lord. It didn't take long for the foolish champions to meet their first barrier in the firm of the age-old tripwire. Harry noticed it almost immediately and tried to stop but Fleur continued running and pushed him forwards.
*crash*
Both of them tripped and fell, it was lucky too because crossbow bolts were sent flying through the air which they had previously occupied. If they hadn't fallen, they would have been riddled with crossbow bolts.
Viktor sighed in relief while Ares grinned before he continued onwards, the light of the next room now visible. Fleur and Harry had learned their lesson and were much more cautious now.
The door opened up into a cavern with a pit of snakes covering it from side to side. There was a rickety bridge across, but it looked like it could carry two people at most before collapsing.
"It makes sense, they don't want us working together after all." Harry reasoned.
Fleur scrunched up her face when she realised that if it turned to a fight, she was the weakest one in the group as shown by the first task. The stone suddenly grew upwards rapidly, trapping all the contestants except Ares.
"I'll go on first, you can decide amongst yourselves who gets to follow long after I'm gone,"
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When the champions had entered the Pyramid, a sudden change had occurred on the surface of the four sloped walls. All of them turned see-through, allowing the audience to see what happened inside.
Hermione cringed when Harry fell for the most obvious trap in history, Ron cursed Harry's luck as Fleur fell on top of him. Sirius grinned, Narcissa snorted and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
When Ares trapped the other champions and continued on the audience roared in surprise. What a dirty move!
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"What do we do now?" Harry asked, unsure.
Both Viktor and Fleur ignored him, focused on escaping first and securing the last position to cross the bridge.
The Bulgarian Champion was first to escape, using a self-destruct spell and leaving nothing behind but debris. His body was incredibly sturdy, and he seemed to suffer no major consequences from the spell except magic loss. He zipped across the bridge quickly.
Viktor's spell had inadvertently freed Fleur and Harry as well, but as they had guessed earlier the bridge had collapsed.
It didn't take long for the French champion to make her decision, her body started convulsing as she grew scaly white wings and her features grew pointed and avian. Claws grew out of her hands and her eyes turned from blue to yellow. The temperature around her was raised by ten to twenty degrees before she had even summoned fire to her hands. Her transformation wasn't complete because she was only a quarter veela, she looked more like an angelic demon than a birdwoman.
Flapping her wings, she took flight, her magic assisting her as she soared over the pit of snakes. She reached the other side within five minutes but collapsed immediately. Her large chest was heaving heavily as she recovered from using so much magic to support her avian form. After she had recovered, she followed the path leading upwards.
Harry was stuck, he couldn't fly, he wasn't allowed to bring anything except his wand with him and the door to the pyramid had shut behind them. It was then that he realised something, he was a Parseltongue!
'Obey me! Make a path!'
It was like a recreation of when Moses split the sea in the bible. The snakes weren't magical, there was just a lot of them, they were happy to obey his command.
Harry jumped down, wand at the ready, he was still cautious.
As he reached the end of the cavern, he realised there were two doors! One was on the platform above the pit filled with snakes, it was this one that the other champions had used, and the other was built into the snake pit. It seemed to be a hidden passage, accessible only to those with luck on their side.
'Could it be the hidden prize mentioned? If so, I can win!'
Elated at his discovery Harry made to charge ahead before he was reminded of his earlier experience and instead chose to move cautiously but quickly.
It led him through an ordinary passage until he saw the light. Walking out of the dark tunnel he was greeted by forest, fully grown and glorious.
In the distance stood a circle of trees with something in the middle,
'that must be the prize!'
However, there was a forest full of magical creatures between him and the prize, it would take some time.
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Meanwhile, Ares had begun the trek up the stairs towards the top of the pyramid. The first indication he had of a trap was the fact the walls lining the staircase disappeared sometimes.
*smash*
Two metal crushers smashed into each other before returning to their original positions. They were about two metres wide and six metres high.
*smash*
Again, they collided.
If Ares wanted to progress, he needed to avoid the crushers, they were nearly impervious to magic and the only way across was up the stairs.
The Dark lord waited, counting the seconds it took for the crushers to collide and then disappear before they began again.
There was a four-second gap to cross if he ran right after the crushers collided.
He let them return to their positions before he began counting.
4 'run!' thought subconsciously.
3 'faster!'
2 Channelling his magic subconsciously he boosted the muscles in his leg.
1 'Nearly there!'
'phew'
Ares had made it across, the tell-tale *smash* resonating behind him.
Looking ahead he was greeted by several more crushers.
"Merlin's balls!"
It felt like it took quite some time, although it was only five minutes, two of which were spent counting how long it took for the crushers to meet in case the timings changed.
Eventually, he made it to the top of the staircase, he was met with two choices, a door, or another staircase. Inside the door was a raging inferno, up the stairs was a mystery.
Continuing up the stairs he was greeted by another hallway, which had a doorway leading to an incredibly bright room.
Ares moved cautiously, having learnt from Harry and Fleur's blunder in the first corridor. He cast a featherlight charm on himself while edging forward. He conjured several metal balls and threw them rolling across the floor.
*crash*
A giant gaping pit appeared three-quarters of the way to the opposite door, sharpened spikes at the bottom.
"Lovely!" Ares said staring at where he presumed the audience was watching, making sure to emphasize the sarcasm.
Casting a levitation spell, he jumped well over the pit and came crumbling down, into a second pit, this time with walls made of metal and smeared with oil to stop him from escaping.
"Goblin crotch!"
'Who the fuck puts another fucking pit right behind the first one!' Ares scowled in his mind.
He couldn't climb the walls; levitation charms didn't go higher than a few metres and he couldn't power wash oil.
'Wait! Bloody hell the answer is obvious!'
Ares conjured a box, followed by another, and another and another. He didn't stop until he had filled the entire pit with boxes, stepping onto each new level that was made until he reached the top.
"Hahahahahahahaha! Try and stop me now you fucking dwarves!" Ares cried with glee, within running distance of the door.
*crash*
What followed was a very descriptive tale of what the young Dark Lord planned to do with the Dwarven race when he got out of the pyramid.
"Your mother is a (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep)-ing (Bleep) lorem ipsum (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) Admitumvenium (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) trombone (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) hippopotamus (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) Republican (Bleep) (Bleep)-ing Dwarves (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) with a bucket of (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) in a castle far away where no one can hear you (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) soup (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) with a bucket of (Bleep) (Bleep) Mickey Mouse (Bleep) (Bleep) with a stick of dynamite (Bleep) magical (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) Alakazam"
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Outside
The audience was at first shocked by Harry's discovery, delighted by Ares avoidance of the crushers and then shocked again. At first, it was because of how dangerous the pit looked. Then it was because Ares jumped straight into another hole, much to Sirius Black's amusement, and proceeded to show off his immense magical reservoir of power as he conjured hundreds of boxes. What followed after 'the unfortunate incident' as it would come to be termed had mothers all over the world covering their children's ears and blushing red from the profanities being spouted from the teenager's mouth.
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Viktor had opted to take the same route as Ares, Fleur on the other hand gladly walked into the inferno that the others had avoided. The element of Fire was a part of her nature, she could withstand high temperatures naturally, not to mention with magic assisting her. She only had to walk thirty metres before she reached another door. Only a couple of drops of sweat left her forehead as she entered the cool, dark, damp cave.
There was nowhere to continue, casting a light charm she searched for a way forward. It didn't take long to find some indents in the wall leading upwards. Wrinkling her nose in disgust at the idea of what she was about to do the French veela began her ascent of the cave wall. Halfway up she could feel the heat permeating through the wall from the chamber next door where the inferno raged. It was then that she heard a *rumble*
An enormous boulder that was the width of the chamber was crashing down from above, at the rate it was moving she would be flattened into the cave wall or floor.
She stood no chance of destroying the oversized rock, but thanks to her quick thinking she started destroying the wall with blasting curses, the wall between her current chamber and the previous one was very thin.
Just as the boulder was about to claim her life she jumped through the hole, standing precariously in the hole between the two chambers. Breathing a sigh of relief, she looked up in horror, another hundred metres of climbing left before she reached the top.
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Ares was not happy, in fact, he was very unhappy. When he had pulled himself out of the final pit Viktor Krum had already reached the start of the corridor, and the Bulgarian champion would not have to suffer ant of Ares challenges because they had all been cleared now. Ares gave up on continuing the conventional way. Putting an entire tenth of his magical power into the Elder wand he launched a blasting curse at the roof.
The ceiling was devastated by the awe-inspiring power of the spell and collapsed in on itself. Luckily Ares had already shielded himself, although it did block Viktor's further path. Conjuring a grappling hook Ares swung it until he had built up momentum and launched it at the ground in the next floor. When he had a secure position, Ares began the short ascent.
Reaching the next floor in record time he lay breathing heavily as he recovered his breath. Unnoticed by everyone the foliage and flowers began withering as if their life energy was being absorbed. As he was resting a rustling began in the bushes, followed by a tremble and then an all-out roar as the ground began to shake.
*rumble* *shake*
Equine monsters came bursting out of the foliage. They were Bicorns, the considerably less rare cousin of the Unicorn. They were well known for being violent and eating the husbands of women they kidnapped. Ares was therefore not guilty to eviscerate them. Literally. He was a little pissed off, so he used an old butcher spell that was meant to be used on dead animals but worked well on alive ones as well. It removed all the skin and bones from the meat as well as pulling the organs outside of the body. It wasn't an illegal dark spell because it only worked on livestock and muggles. Wizards and witches with even the remotest willpower and magical core could easily resist the spell.
The Bicorns were not so lucky.
There were only five of them, and after Ares was done all that remained were four piles. One was the meat, the other was organs, another was bones and hooves etc, the final was skin and gristle.
Many people in the audience were sick at the sight. Mostly students.
Although Hermione Granger looked especially mortified, muttering something about a magical RSPCA.
Happy with his artwork a now skipping Ares found himself confronted by magically strengthened pillars that beat the ground in an attempt to stop him passing. It was a doomed attempt, magic spread into every cell in Ares body as time slowed to his perception. To the audience, it looked like the pillars where deliberately curving away from him as he walked through them.
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Fleur had reached the top of her climb and pulled herself through the hatch into a room that seemed to be spraying liquid through holes in a glass wall. When a drop of the liquid touched her skin, it turned red and burned.
"Acid! Merde!"
Creating a bubble to coat her body with the moisture in the air she moved hurriedly on, the coating constantly being eroded.
She dodged a few large puddles, random tripwires and blasting curses.
The next chamber she found was ridiculous. Iron jaws of death crunched together every three seconds. The room was twenty by twenty-foot and in the middle was a square that was two by two ft. It was the only safe space in the room and had a ladder leading to the next level.
Fleur realised this was the home run. Transforming she let her wings loose and readied herself. 3, 2, 1 go!
She launched herself towards the middle of the room.
Her hands found the rope ladder and grasped tightly, hugging it close.
Letting the relief sink in she slowly climbed the ladder.
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Ares had soon discovered the swimming pool of acid above him when he tried to blast through the ceiling again. He had barely escaped in time before masses of a concentrated acid came gushing out of the hole he had made. Giving up on the hole he had made Ares had continued walking until he reached the original exit. It was a simple staircase, leading to a room that was twenty by twenty-foot. The walls were lined with arrow slits, and not at all surprisingly the moment Ares walked in, conjured shield ready, hundreds of arrows started flying at him, nearing ten miles an hour. In such a small room they would have had a devastating effect on nearly anyone else except Ares whose immense magical power allowed him to create an incredibly sturdy shield.
It wasn't much of a challenge to arrive at the rope ladder and climb it.
He arrived in a gilded room, once again twenty by twenty foot but this time with a pointed tip for a ceiling. In front of him stood four podiums, each with a golden bell. Ares took one and tried to take another, apparently, he couldn't. If he wanted another bell he would have to wait for another champion, as you couldn't take another bell yourself.
At that exact time, Fleur climbed through the hatch, hair dishevelled and dirt from the cave smudged all over her gorgeous face.
Slipping into the shadows Ares cast a disillusionment charm while she was still distracted. He watched as she grabbed a bell cheerfully before letting loose several stunners in succession.
Her instincts were good, she avoided the first two spells but jumped into the third. Knocked out cold Ares pried the bell from her fingers and checked the time. Twenty minutes left. Was it worth waiting for Viktor or Harry? No, it wasn't. Using one-eighth of his remaining power he cast another blasting curse and blew off the tip of the pyramid. The actual pyramid was only 200 metres high, but all of the magical expansion charms made it seem much bigger.
Casting a featherlight charm, a levitation charm and a slow falling charm Ares slid down the pyramid at considerable speed. He had completely bypassed the traps on the way back. They may have started inside the pyramid but there was no rule stating they had to go back through it.
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Viktor Krum was the next to reach the peak, he saw the unconscious Fleur and blown open ceiling before grinning. He immediately grasped the basics of what had happened. He grabbed one of the two remaining bells before copying Ares, after all the charms the Slytherin had used weren't hard to replicate. As a passing thought, he woke up Fleur before escaping.
He too began his descent, although considerably more quickly than Ares, as he waited to apply the slow falling charm till, he reached halfway.
Fleur, now awake, tried to remember what had happened. She was able to conclude that her bell had been stolen. There was only one left.
With a silent apology to Harry Potter, she grabbed the last one and began her descent after her fellow champions.
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With all the bells gone unknown to Harry, he finally arrived at the centre of the trees. What lay before him was a magic circle made of bronze, a relic from when floo powder was a twinkle in Ignatia Wildsmith's eye.
It was not a secret prize. So, Harry did as any logical Gryffindor did, he channelled his magic into the possibly dangerous device that could have become faulty after years of misuse, to take him to an unknown location that could be filled with even more danger. The logical thing to do.
As the pentagonal star lit up with Harry in the centre, a great light came crashing down (Think Bifrost from the Thor movies) which was surprisingly comfortable. When the light disappeared all that lay behind was a broken magic circle, luckily it had done its job one last time.
Harry appeared in the centre of the Pyramid, surrounded by mirrors. A maze to be exact. When Harry looked into the first mirror, he saw himself standing with Hermione and Ron, united and friendly. The second one showed Dumbledore congratulating him, expressing his familial love and a desire for Harry to call him a more familiar term than Professor. The third one showed the Beauxbatons champion doing some very naughty things to him, enough to make the real him blush red. There were hundreds of these mirrors. Harry immediately realised they were weaker versions of the Mirror of Erised, or better known as the Mirror of desire. They were certainly enough to distract him. Whenever he turned a corner, he found himself engrossed in the images displayed. Sirius adopting him, Voldemort accidentally killing himself, Harry killing Voldemort, his parents coming back to life, unlimited popularity and quite a few starring a wide variety of girls he knew, including Hermione much to his shame and guilt. He certainly wouldn't be able to look her in the eye for a while.
It was halfway through another event starring Sirius that he noticed it, a letter in the background, with the Tri-wizard crest on it. He didn't notice it in the next few mirrors he came across, but after he actively started searching for it, he found it again, in another illusion starring a familial Dumbledore.
He started following them, and he felt like he was making progress as he made his way further and further towards the very centre of the maze. There were a few ridiculous traps, designed to take advantage of a lack of focus that Harry only narrowly missed, but it wasn't a tiring journey.
With an almost human-like sigh, the mirror in front of him caved in, revealing a very cramped but bright room. On a single gilded podium sat a letter, the one he had seen in the mirrors previously. Harry reached out and grabbed it, as a familiar feeling of being pulled by his naval occurred.
'portkey' was all he had time to think.
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The Beauxbatons sport grounds
"Monsieur Potter, welcome back! With that ladies and Gentlemen, the judges may begin. Monsieur Peverell, you were first back with two golden bells, that is ten points for each bell, you are awarded twenty points. No other points will be granted for this challenge, Monsieur Krum, you successfully acquired a single bell, you are awarded ten points, Mademoiselle Delacour you achieved the same thing within the time limit, you receive ten points. Monsieur Potter! You failed to make it back within the allotted time limit, however, you achieved the secret prize and therefore are awarded fifty points." Monsieur Pickard declared.
Hogwarts went crazy with excitement over the revelation, and Monsieur Pickard continued when they had quietened down,
"That leaves Mademoiselle Delacour in the last place with forty-seven points, followed closely by Monsieur Krum who has fifty points. Monsieur Peverell is in second place with seventy points and Monsieur Potter takes a surprise lead with ninety points! The next challenge will be based around the wood element, it will be held in February. I hope you are all looking forward to the Yule Ball!"
The second task was over, three more left. Harry left the crowd, re-joined Ron and Hermione, and they started to walk back around the edge of the sports ground, talking hard; Harry wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. He was very amused to see the recording taken by Lee Jordan of Ares falling into several pits, he was even more amazed when he heard the creative swears that came out with the last fall. Hermione turned red again, even though she had already heard it several times. She had been sick during the task after seeing him dissect the Bicorns so quickly, with such a calm face as well!
She couldn't help but wonder if he had learned the dark spell from his family grimoire, just what kind of spells were hidden in there? Even the famed Nicholas Flamel wanted to look at it.
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Hogwarts Express
The Weasley twins had been devastated when they had failed to enter the tournament, however, that wouldn't stop them celebrating their champion's victory, especially since both first and second place belonged to Hogwarts! Sure enough, when Harry, Hermione and Ron entered the Gryffindor compartment it exploded with cheers and yells again. There were mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan had let off some Filibuster's Fireworks so that the air was thick with stars and sparks; and one of the older years, who had filmed the entire experience, the most popular magic mirror recording was definitely of Ares as he traversed a certain hallway. The recordings of Harry's reactions to some of the mirror illusions in the maze came a close second.
"Any idea what will be in the third task Harry?" Lee Jordan shouted over the crowd as he passed him a bottle of butterbeer.
"No idea! I think I'm meant to search for clues!" Harry shouted back.
"Learn lots of fire spells, they're most effective against jungle and foliage!"
Hermione pitched in.
"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" said Fred. Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned. "It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch —" Ron, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed. "Just my little joke, little brother. . .." Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, "Did you get all this from the Beauxbatons kitchens, Fred?" "Yep," said Fred, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a French house-elf. "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful, even the French ones . . . get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish." "How do you get in there?" Hermione said in an innocently casual sort of voice. "Easy," said Fred, "We asked a darling blonde French girl, she was delighted to get rid of us, she practically urged the house elves to lock us up for some reason!" He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. "Why?"
"Nothing," said Hermione quickly. "Going to try and lead the French house-elves out on strike now, are you?" said George. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?" Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer. "Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" said Fred warningly "They're French, they have enough problems with revolutions, they don't need more rebellions. Bloody frogs and their strikes!" Just then, Ron caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary. "Oh — sorry, poor little brother of ours!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot — it was the custard creams we hexed —" Within a minute, however, Ron had moulted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He did not join in the laughing, Ares earlier actions had left him slightly traumatised to the idea of being turned into a bird, of any kind. It had ruined any chance of him becoming a bird Animagus. "Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them — seven Sickles each, a bargain!"
While the Hogwarts entourage bonded over their shared love for victory Ares was in his room with Daphne. They were half-naked on his king-sized bed snogging the life out of each other. Something was invigorating about being a teenager again, Ares thought silently to himself. Ten minutes later they lay breathing heavily, cuddled together beneath the sheets, nothing more than snogging had occurred but there was something nice about sharing a bed. Together they drifted off to sleep.
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Mid-December 1994
Magical Paris
T'was a time of Christmas, the carols resonated throughout the open streets of the Bastille Christmas market. While the muggle Bastille prison was long gone the magical version had simply been converted into a massive shopping centre for magicals. Ares already knew what he wanted to get Daphne as a main present, but it never hurt to buy the contents of Paris to keep a girl happy. Ares had visited an Italian tailor specifically for his dress robes, made of the finest acromantula silk and embroidered with the Peverell family crest. They were designed in Slytherin colours of black with silver and green highlights. Sirius had forced Harry to buy new robes just for the occasion and then given him and Ron advice on how to find a date. With a school of French girls to choose from they were not lacking choice. Perfumes, dresses, necklaces, earrings, and even muggle clothes were all packed up into boxes and couriered to Beauxbatons in preparation for Narcissa and Daphne. Luckily both were very materialistic girls and Ares was a millionaire. Of the millions of galleons in revenue he was making, half was invested in his research lab, which was Cofounded along with the Bulgarian ministry. One quarter was reserved for buying materials for a project Ares was working on and the remaining quarter was for his miscellaneous needs. The Goblins were always on the lookout for the rare ward designs, magical materials, and artefacts needed for the creation of Ares secret project, a Mage Tower! The building would amplify his magical power to godlike levels while he was within ten kilometres of it. It could also serve as a private hideout that he could keep the darker side of him hidden. For the last months since he had arrived a constant feeling had been in the back of his head urging him to kill. Over time it had evolved into being able to send emotions. Ares believed at the rate it was evolving there was a chance it could talk soon, he both dreaded and longed for that day.
He believed it would be a representation of his darker subconscious. Maybe a new point of view would provide him with precious insights into a particular branch of magical research, Black magic, not dark.
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19th December 1994
"My dear Daphne, Queen of my world, will you do me the honour of going to the Yule Ball?" Ares declared a single coronation in his mouth.
"No," Daphne replied,
"What? Why?" Ares asked confused.
"Not good enough," Daphne answered before walking off with her newest French friends.
20th December 1994
A wreath of roses, two boxes of chocolates and a pear tree later.
"Daphne, my dearest fiancée, will you not attend the Yule ball with me?" Ares asked.
"Boring," said one of the French girls.
Daphne who had been undecided nodded in agreement and left.
'That French bitch needs a hard-long fucking, to replace the stick up her fancy arse.' Snarled the Dark Lord mentally. The girl in question shivered unconsciously.
23rd December 1994
Daphne was getting a little anxious, her newest friend Marie had told her to keep Ares waiting and to make him come to her, but he had ignored her completely for the last couple of days. She would hate herself if she inadvertently ruined their relationship because of nothing other than misplaced pride.
It was then that she saw her fiancée together with a tall buxom dark-haired girl. Walking up to them she could smell something funny,
"Hello, Ares, who is this?" She asked.
"Ah, Daphne, this is Alicia, she helped give me a tour before the first task and even promoted international relations a few times, quite recently in fact," Ares explained with a straight face.
Daphne was a smart girl, but she was still very naïve as to how the world worked, she missed the deliberate insinuations within her fiancée's response.
Daphne nodded,
"Well if that's all, we'll be going, international relations to promote and all," Ares said before Daphne could respond, grabbing Alicia's hand and walking briskly off.
24th December 1994
It happened in the Beauxbatons girl's bathroom. It was a coincidence that both Alicia and Daphne were in the same room.
"Bonjour! Daphne, right? Your friend Ares is very good in bed. I can't wait for him to take to me to the Yule Ball." Alicia said carelessly as she did her makeup,
"He's my fiancée, an important man not for the likes of you and what do you mean to take you to the ball! He's mine!" Daphne replied scathingly.
A small-time French girl getting anywhere other than temporarily into the bed of Prince was unheard of. Daphne was a future queen, there was no way a little tart was going to take that away, even if the other girl was two years older.
"Don't be silly, he chose me after you kept being such a frigid bitch to him both times he's asked. Marie really helped me out! I can't believe you listened to her stupid advice, of course, someone will move on if they feel unsuccessful. See you at the Yule Ball." Alicia replied, finishing up with her makeup.
"Nice try bitch!" Daphne screeched, raising her wand.
The maimed bodies of two French girls were discovered in toilet stalls two days after the Yule ball, both were alive but in deep comas.
25th December 1994
Harry awoke very suddenly on Christmas Day. Wondering what had caused his abrupt return to consciousness, he opened his eyes and saw something with very large, round, green eyes staring back at him in the darkness, so close they were almost nose to nose. "Dobby!" Harry yelled, scrambling away from the elf so fast he almost fell out of bed. "What are you doing in France!" "Dobby is sorry, sir!" squeaked Dobby anxiously, jumping backwards with his long fingers over his mouth. "Dobby is only wanting to wish Harry Potter 'Merry Christmas' and bring him a present, sir! Harry Potter did say Dobby could come and see him sometimes, sir!" "It's okay, I should have known you would somehow turn up," said Harry, still breathing rather faster than usual, it had been rather a shock to learn that Dobby worked for his cousin.
Harry jumped out of his bed and woke Ron up. They were sharing a rather small compartment between the two of them.
"Presents!" shouted Ron, spotting the large pile at the foot of his bed. Ron and Harry decided that now they were awake they might as well get down to some present opening. However, first Harry turned back to Dobby, who was now standing nervously next to his bed, still looking worried that he had upset Harry. There was a Christmas bauble tied to the loop on top of his tea cosy.
"Can Dobby give Harry Potter his present?" he squeaked tentatively. "Of Course, you can," said Harry. "Er . . . I've got something for you too."
It was a lie; he hadn't bought anything for Dobby at all, but he quickly opened his trunk and pulled out a particularly knobbly rolled-up pair of socks. They were a reminder from his time with the Dursley's, before he had moved in with Ares and Sirius. The reason they were extra-knobbly was that Harry had been using them to cushion his Sneakoscope for over a year now. He pulled out the Sneakoscope and handed the socks to Dobby, saying,
"Sorry, I forgot to wrap them. . .." But Dobby was utterly delighted.
"Socks are Dobby's favourite, favourite clothes, sir!" he said, ripping off his odd ones and pulling on Harry's.
"I have seven now, sir. . .. But sir . . ." he said, his eyes widening, having pulled both socks up to their highest extent, so that they reached to the bottom of his shorts, "they have made a mistake in the shop, Harry Potter, they are giving you two the same!"
"Ah, no, Harry, how come you didn't spot that?" said Ron, grinning over from his bed, which was now strewn with wrapping paper. "Tell you what, Dobby — here you go — take these two, and you can mix them up properly. And here's your sweater." He threw Dobby a pair of violet socks he had just unwrapped, and the hand-knitted sweater Mrs Weasley had sent. Dobby looked quite overwhelmed. "Sir is very kind!" he squeaked, his eyes brimming with tears again, bowing deeply to Ron. "Dobby knew sir must be a great wizard, for he is Harry Potter's greatest friend, but Dobby did not know that he was also as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless —" "They're only socks," said Ron, who had gone slightly pink around the ears, though he looked rather pleased all the same. "Wow, Harry —" He had just opened Harry's present, a Chudley Cannon hat. "Cool!" He jammed it onto his head, where it clashed horribly with his hair. Dobby now handed Harry a small package, which turned out to be — socks.
"Dobby got them from missy's laundry pile, very nice quality! Silky and smooth!" Dobby said happily.
"They're . . . they're really . . . well, thanks, Dobby," said Harry, while resolving to burn them the first chance he got. He most certainly did not want Draco Malfoy's mother's socks! He patted them happily and lay them next to him cautiously.
Harry's other presents were much more satisfactory than Dobby's rather disturbing present. Hermione had given Harry a book called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland; Ron, a bulging bag of Dung bombs; Sirius, a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot; the Peverell's, a book on elemental fire magic as well as an indestructible gold pocket watch and Hagrid, a vast box of sweets including all Harry's favourites: Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and Fizzing Whizbees. There was also, of course, Mrs. Weasley's usual package, including a new sweater (green, with a picture of a Salamander and sword on it — Harry supposed Ron had told her all about the first task), and a large number of homemade mince pies.
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In the end, Daphne had sort of apologised, in her own way. They had agreed to let bygones be bygones. Although Ares had told her very sternly that as a punishment, she wouldn't be getting most of her presents until tomorrow. Daphne hadn't had the heart to disagree. Narcissa had been quite shocked to wake up surrounded by piles of presents, and Ares had made full use of his time-turner to try out some of the lingerie he had bought her. Sirius had not appreciated Ares joke, a bottle of Viagra and a note from a muggle doctor recommending he warn girls about his inability to get it up in the future. The book on the benefits of being a eunuch had been a nice touch from Narcissa.
The girls had all disappeared hours before the Yule ball had started, as had Ares. When he the time for the ball to begin, he walked out in his older form, elegantly dressed in silver and black robes, accompanied by Narcissa who wore a silver gown, that matched perfectly with her eyes, as well as one of the pairs of silver earrings he had given her. They were in the form of teardrops. Ares reappeared as his younger self in silver, black and green robes, accompanied by Daphne who wore a dazzling violet dress that fitted her eyes. Her raven hair was styled into a plat and she also wore silver earrings. (I probably said she was blonde with blue eyes before, well I'm changing that, Ares needs a little diversity, otherwise Fleur, Narcissa and Daphne would all be blonde)
Professor Marie Beauvais had arranged for all the champions to meet outside of the Dining Chamber while everyone sat down in their designated positions. They were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies, Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Ares and Daphne were next to Harry and his French date; Harry looked away from them after greeting them, nervous. His eyes fell instead on the girl next to Krum. His jaw dropped. It was Hermione. But she didn't look like Hermione at all. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow — or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling — rather nervously, it was true — but the reduction in the size of her front teeth was more noticeable than ever; Harry couldn't understand how he hadn't spotted it before. "Hi, Harry!" she said. "Hi, Melanie!" Harry's date was gazing at Hermione in disinterest. When it was time for the procession to enter the hall, Krum's fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing. Malfoy looked rather unsure of himself, enough so that he didn't dare to comment on Hermione. Ron, however, walked right past Hermione without looking at her. Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor Beauvais told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Dining Chamber applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.
The walls of the Chamber had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crisscrossing the classical pillars. Ice statues depicting the champions and famous French heroes dominated the space between the pillars. The open-air dining experience was not ruined by the cold, kept at bay by large scale warming charms. There were choirs of wood nymphs serenading the seated students and faculty. The white birchwood tables had changed shape; now they were all round, and each was seating about a dozen people. Harry was extraordinarily glad that Sirius had taught him how to dance, he wasn't amazing, but he certainly wouldn't embarrass himself. Ares walked elegantly alongside Daphne, dwarfing her slightly at his height of six foot while she was five foot eight. He caught sight of Ron alone as he neared the top table and grinned, his hatred for gingers not the least bit diminished. Ron was watching Hermione pass with narrowed eyes. Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron's as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Monsieur Pickard in dark crimson robes was clapping cheerfully; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. Mr Flamel was dressed in red and gold robes, he looked more interested in his book than the ball. When the champions and their partners reached the table, Ares took the initiative to sit next to Nicholas Flamel and opposite Dumbledore.
"Monsieur Flamel, I notice you are reading a book on the magic of the soul, the first volume of 'The secrets of the Sublime' by Peregrine Montegeau. May I ask what has drawn your interest to that particular branch of magic?" Ares began, coaxing Flamel out of his book.
"Indeed, young Peverell, though I'm sure that Montegeau has nothing to say that your family grimoire does not already describe in more detail. I believe Mr Montegeau was an apprentice of a Peverell. Perhaps you have some thoughts to share on the matter? It has always been an interest of mine, at least after I finished the stone." The bookish man replied.
"My dear sir, you do me a disservice, I would never dare to dabble into soul magic without proper supervision. Perhaps if you win our bet, you'll find some of the answers you seek. Or a meeting with my father, I'm sure he would love to debate the specifics with you, in fact, I believe he knows several prominent researchers on the subject." Ares replied, reminding the table of the bet the Alchemist and Dark Lord has made.
Dumbledore and Hermione perked up, 'The Peverell Grimoire contains soul magic! One of the great lost magic branches!'
Dumbledore knew from personal experience how hard it was to find a complete book on soul magic. The book in Nicholas Flamel's hands was bought when soul magic wasn't as rare when the Peverells were still prominent, but it still cost well over ten million Galleons, for a single book.
Albus had only ever read incomplete texts, all ancient families guarded their soul magic preciously. The Peverell's were the originators of Soul magic so it was no surprise that their Grimoire was chock full of priceless secrets but now that it had been indirectly confirmed Dumbledore was even more resolved to acquire at least a copy. Hermione had only read about Soul magic; she had never seen a text explaining what it could do. She only knew that it was incredibly rare and one of the lost branches of magic. The lost branches of magic were all destroyed by various ministries hundreds of years ago to avoid the average wizard messing with more than they could handle. Time magic manuals were what allowed the Unspeakable department to make time turners, but their incomplete manuals meant the time turner could only go back a limited time. If the ministry could find a complete manual there was a chance, they could create time turners that could travel years into the past. Soul magic was another lost branch, but no-one really knew what it could do. Blood magic was the third branch, developed by Vampires, it could also be used by muggles, although if anyone other than vampires, or magical creatures used it life force would be drained in place of magic. The last and most mysterious magic branch was Black magic. It was unknown how you practised it, what it did, how it was channelled and what if any side effects it had. Most people just assumed it was another branch of Dark magic. Most people were wrong.
Hermione was more determined than ever to grasp the Peverell Grimoire and learn the secrets being hidden, she was the brightest witch of her age she had no worries about not understanding it.
Ares picked up a menu and ordered a glass of champagne, along with a Quiche. The French hosts all ordered bouillabaisse.
Viktor Krum was describing Durmstrang to Hermione, much to Ares annoyance he seemed to be getting along with the bitch.
"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Hermione. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these — though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains —"
"Now, now, Viktor!" said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn't reach his cold eyes, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!" Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Igor, all this secrecy . . . one would almost think you didn't want visitors."
"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them? Madame Olympe has certainly not told us all the secrets her delightful palace contains."
"Oh, I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," said Dumbledore amicably. "Only a couple of months ago, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon — or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."
Ares snorted at the thought there was any chance in hell Dumbledore didn't know what the Room of Requirement was. He was sure the old man had searched every inch of Hogwarts at least twice.
Fleur was busy promoting her school to Roger Davies while taking occasional glances at Ares. Luckily for her Davies was too enamoured with her to notice her obvious looks at the other boy. They did not, however, go unnoticed by Daphne.
"Down girl! No need to be defensive! We don't need another Alicia and Marie so soon; people might get suspicious." Ares scolded with a grin.
Daphne blushed a deep red.
Suddenly the orchestra picked up their instruments, all the champions rose to their feet, Harry being dragged by his date.
Ares stood up gracefully and led Daphne onto the dance floor. The Wood Nymph Orchestra struck up a slow, mournful tune; Ares placed a hand around her waist and held the other gently. They glided across the cleared dance floor, Daphne had been taught since childhood and Ares had thirty years of experience on his side as well as Narcissa as a tutor. They danced across the entire floor, Ares kept his eyes on Daphne's, and very soon the audience joined so that the champions were no longer the centre of attention. Although Daphne and Ares gave off a sort of aura that was hard to miss even when mingling with over a thousand people.
Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Sirius was grinning from ear to ear as he danced with the large-chested Professor Marie Beauvais.
Ares senior was doing the tango with Narcissa at one point, much to Draco's horror. His French date was impressed by his mother though and much to his shame asked if Lord Peverell was his father.
Harry was doing reasonably well, he at least knew what he was doing as he danced with Melanie, although he eventually had to excuse himself to comfort Ron after he received the stink-eye for the umpteenth time.
"How's it going?" Harry asked Ron, sitting down and opening a bottle of French apple fizz. Ron didn't answer. He was glaring at Hermione and Krum, who happened to be dancing nearby. The song soon ended, and Hermione came over and sat down in an empty chair. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing. "Hi," said Harry. Ron didn't say anything. "It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks." Ron gave her a withering look. "Viktor?" he said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?" Hermione looked at him in surprise. "What's up with you?" she said. "If you don't know," said Ron scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you." Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged. "Ron, what —?"
"He's from Durmstrang!" spat Ron. "He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You — you're —" Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione's crime, "fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!" Hermione's mouth fell open.
"Don't be so stupid!" she said after a moment. "The enemy! Honestly — who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him in their compartment?"
Harry changed the subject, "So how did you guys meet?"
Ron spoke first, "I s'pose he asked her to come with him while they were both in the library?"
"No! We met in the park built by the Flamel's while we were reading! He said Harry's cousin didn't want him coming near me for some reason and he was curious to find out why." Hermione said indignantly.
"I wonder why Ares told him that?" Harry mused.
Because he didn't want her fraternizing with the enemy!" Ron spat.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione snarled.
"Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with. . .. He's just trying to get closer to Harry — get inside information on him — or get near enough to jinx him —" Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. When she spoke, her voice quivered. "For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry, not one —"
Ron changed tack at the speed of light. "Maybe he wants your help figuring out the next task!"
"I'd never help him work out the next task!" said Hermione, looking outraged. "Never. How could you say something like that — I want Harry to win the tournament, Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?"
"You've got a funny way of showing it," sneered Ron.
"This whole tournament is supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" said Hermione hotly.
"No, it isn't!" shouted Ron. "It's about winning!"
People were starting to stare at them. "Ron," said Harry quietly, "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum —"
But Ron ignored Harry too. "Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are," said Ron.
"Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. Ron watched her go with a mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.
"Vere is Herm-own-ninny?" said a voice. Krum had just arrived at their table clutching two butterbeers.
"No idea," said Ron mulishly, looking up at him. "Lost her, have you?"
Krum was looking surly again. "Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks," he said, and he slouched off.
"Made friends with Viktor, have you, Weasley?" Ares joined in, smirking.
Harry sighed; Ares had seen everything. The older boy wasn't going to let this go, he was always saying how ridiculous it was that they fought so often.
Pretending they wanted more drinks, Harry and Ron left the table, edged around the dance floor, and slipped out of the dining chamber. The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the park winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes; winding, ornamental paths; and large Ice statues. Harry could hear splashing water, from the Flamel fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. He and Ron set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes
Harry looked around, back up the path, and saw Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies standing half-concealed in a rosebush nearby. He tapped Ron on the shoulder and jerked his head toward them, meaning that they could easily continue that way without being noticed (Fleur and Davies looked very busy to Harry), but Ron, eyes widening in horror at the sight of Fleur, shook his head vigorously and pulled Harry deeper into the shadows behind the reindeer.
Ron seemed mortified that the French veela was getting along so well with the Ravenclaw Captain. He took out a flask that had been remarkably well hidden until now.
"Fire whisky! Fred and George got it for me." Ron explained as he downed it. He offered some to Harry, who took it and drank some. He needed to escape Ron and get back to his date. Luckily the ginger was a lightweight and was soon snoring. Harry cast a warming charm on him and slipped off for the last dance.
When the Orchestra finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to wend their way into the grounds. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but Harry was perfectly happy, Melanie had given him a hair raising kiss at the end of the night and all he wanted to do now was preserve the feeling in his mind. He found Ron quickly and woke him up before they made their way back to the entrance hall to meet Professor Dumbledore and head back to the train. A sober Harry and drunk Ron saw Hermione saying good night to Krum before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. She gave Ron a very cold look and swept past him down the path towards the train without a backwards glance. Harry and Ron followed her, both eager for bed.
When they arrived Ron and Hermione started having a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at each other, each scarlet in the face. "Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger. "Oh yeah?" Ron yelled back; speech slurred. "What's that?"
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed into the girls' compartment and to bed. Ron turned to look at Harry. "Well," he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, "well — that just proves — completely missed the point —" Harry didn't say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now (He could almost hear Ares calling him a coward in his mind) — but he somehow thought that Hermione had gotten the point much better than Ron had.
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Ares Compartment
The silencing charms worked as Felix and Anastasia went at it like rabbits while he received a call. Basilisk 6's face appeared, an intelligence gatherer and the agent in charge of spying on Voldemort.
"My lord, something has gone terribly wrong! The fake Dark Lord has discovered a demon conversion ritual! He has already summoned demons to Earth!"
PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN-PEVERELL-SLYTHERIN
I can already imagine some of the thoughts going through your heads as you finish reading this chapter. Why did it take so long? Because I failed my exams and must contemplate my future. Not to mention where I'm going to get money from, I think just about everyone can sympathise with that. No, this story is NOT a crossover with Supernatural or even a crossover. Yes, there will be some supernatural elements, but no Winchesters etc. Also, who says angels have to be good. We have enough religious zealots for it be believable that they have a very skewed sense of right and wrong. Sorry if anything offended you. Grow a pair. (Not that there is really anything offensive...)
The last part was very close to canon but that's because I couldn't be arsed to write anything particularly different.
I won nothing; everything belongs to J.K Rowling.
Also, a little clue for the next chapter... Professor Marie Beauvais is not who she seems.
Well, you'll find out if I ever get around to writing the next chapter. I give it a couple of months before I remember, another two while I write chapters for my other stories and then I might continue.
Also please point out any mistakes made in earlier chapters that don't fit with this one, information or even spelling mistakes.
