"So, today is the day," said Anthony Goldstein grimly. The others nodded.
The same solemn, determined look was reflected on each member of the Nocturne Group's face. It was wondrous to Hermione how far they'd come. After Crookshank's shocking revelation, Hermione had turned her focus entirely to defensive tactics, giving up catching the imposter before the Third Task as a lost cause. Her friends, however, were not so easily dissuaded. A week before the Tournament finale, they drafted one last plan to go on the offensive.
The idea came from Harry himself. If all but one of the suspects would be attending the Third Task as judges, and Crookshank remembered the imposter's smell before and after polyjuicing, couldn't Crookshank be brought along to help identify the polyjuiced mage?
After a week of tireless research in the Room of Requirements, the Nocturne Group had discovered a spell that reverted polyjuiced individuals back to their original form. All they had to do now was for one of them to carry Crookshank to the Third Task, sit close to the judges table, and cast the spell on the serpent's signal. The imposter would then be revealed for all to see, and from there - they hoped - quickly put down by the judges beside them.
"So, who wants to carry him?" asked Harry with Crookshank draped over his arms. He proffered the horned viper to the three Slytherins in the room.
"I think Terry should do it," said Theo before anyone else could comment, "he's the one who found the reversal spell first."
"Ooh, I've never carried a snake before!" grinned Terry. He reached out his arm cheerily, and Crookshank curled himself around it. "This is like those cool zoo pictures where you get to wear a boa!"
"You've got this, Terry!" Hermione cheered. 'And why are you so swift to refuse, Theo? Is it my imagination, or do you not wish to be seen helping us? But one swallow does not make a summer. We will see.'
Harry nodded at his friends. "Crookshank, stay in Terry's sleeve, alright? Later Terry is going to raise his arm to point you at different people. If the person he points at is the one who dropped the rock on your burrow, before or after their smell changed, squeeze Terry's arm twice, ok? And if you smell the person before Terry does anything, hmm… squeeze his arm once, ok?"
"I will do that, Teacher!" said the enthusiastic serpent.
"Thanks. Terry, Crookshank is going to squeeze your arm when he smells the imposter. Stroke his back to let him know you understood, ok? Good luck, guys."
"Aye aye!" beamed Terry. "Good luck yourself!"
"Don't die," said Theo.
"Oh, I don't know," Harry quipped, "that press conference tent looks daunting. Another interview with Skeeter might be the death of me!"
"Come off it, Harry, she's no stranger now," smiled Daphne, "you'll do just fine. Really."
"Oh, let's all review the spell one more time," urged Terry, "in case I screw up."
'Revelio natura,' said seven voices.
Of course, they didn't really need this check. They'd already seen to it during practice that everybody could do this untransfiguration perfectly.
Blaise bounced up from their huddle. "C'mon, let's go."
Together they walked down to the large white pavilion beside what used to be the Quidditch pitch, with Crookshank coiled mostly inconspicuously inside Terry's left sleeve. They'd arrived very early indeed, but already there were a handful of people milling about outside the tent. Students from the other two schools, mostly. Ludo Bagman too was waiting at the pavilion door like a gracious host, leaning casually against a post and peering upward as if admiring the soon-to-be-setting sun. His eyes brightened when he spotted Harry approaching.
"There's our youngest champion! Come on in, Harry. We're all so excited for you!" Like a favoured uncle, he put a hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him into the pavilion, leaving everyone else outside.
"Sleazebag," Anthony scowled, staring hard at the closed tent flaps. "Is it him?"
Terry shook his head. "No, not according to Crookshank."
"Huh," blinked Blaise, "there goes suspect prime out the window."
"I told you before," said Theo, "he doesn't seem the type."
A pause followed as the group mentally revisited the remaining list of suspects.
"If not Bagman," considered Daphne, "then there's only Moody and Crouch left."
"Do we know where they are?" asked Anthony to Blaise and Hermione, their original assigned watchers.
Blaise checked an enchantment. "Well, Crouch is still in his room so we'll have to wait."
"And Professor Moody is south-west, on the other side of the maze I think." shared Hermione. "He was walking last I checked. He's stopped now."
"What's he doing all the way out there?" frowned Terry.
"Patrolling for security, probably," Hermione guessed. "But I could be wrong. He could in fact be discreetly urinating into a bush."
Daphne burst out laughing. "Sally!"
"Well, as long as he's not discreetly murdering somebody I'm game," said Anthony.
Hermione shrugged. She highly doubted that Alastor Moody was the culprit they were looking for, or that he was in any way complicit in a plot against Harry. For one, he was much too exposed to Albus Dumbledore. With all the deep, conspiratorially rich consultations that must have occured between the two over the past year, she had a hard time imagining how he could have kept the Light-Progressive leader fooled.
If she was to choose among the suspects now, she would pick Bartemius Crouch as their imposter. From Blaise's description and her own irregular checks on her map, the man hardly ever left his guest room except to be seen. Of course, Blaise would argue that Bartemius had never tried to put himself in a position to do anything either, which would be a point against his guilt.
In any case, their defenses were decently comprehensive. The gap in the Portkey ward would be closed by multiple independent layers of protection. Meanwhile, seven pairs of eyes and a nose would be watching for polyjuiced individuals trying to approach Harry in the guise of a trusted face - setting aside Hermione's personal belief that Crouch should perhaps be watched most closely of all. Though there was no surety in anything in the world, Harry's guard was as watertight as their combined efforts could feasibly arrange.
Viktor Krum and Headmaster Karkaroff were the next to arrive. Seeing their little group near the doorway, Viktor waved at them before entering the pavilion. Karkaroff gave them a cold look as he went inside behind his Champion, leaving the tent flaps flying wildly behind him. "Not him either," said Terry quietly.
Fleur Delacour arrived shortly after, alone. "Just as well," chuckled Anthony, "I'm not sure the tent was designed for their headmistress's height. But she was the first one we cleared so that's ok."
"Looks like it's really just Moody and Crouch left," nodded Blaise. "My money's on Moody. Is he still skulking around on the other side of the maze, Sal?"
"He hasn't moved. Looks like he may be doing a number two instead," joked Hermione, "but you already know who I suspect."
"Crouch, right?" nodded Daphne, rather expressively glancing at Blaise and then back. "What about you, Theo? Who do you think it is?"
"Dunno," shrugged Theodore Nott, "could be either."
"Aw, c'mon man!" Blaise pouted. "Pick a side! Preferably mine."
"It makes no difference what I choose," said Theo stoically, "This isn't a matter that we can just settle with a vote. We have no control over how things will turn out no matter how we agree among us six."
Blaise opened his mouth, but Daphne shook her head minutely.
"How defeatist of you," said Daphne to Theo sadly, "talking like we have no agency."
"It's a fair point though," said Terry, blithely cheery, "we'll just keep our eyes peeled for both Crouch and Moody. And - "
He was distracted by the swirl of a Portkey arrival. Six people stood on the tuft of grass about twenty-paces away, clutching what looked to be a piece of old shoe between them. "Look, there comes the Minister!"
Minister Fudge straightened his bowler hat and strolled toward them - or more accurately, toward the pavilion - with a bright smile. He was trailed by Mme. Umbridge, his ostentatiously loyal Undersecretary. Hermione studied the simpering face of her one-time political adversary. The pink-clad witch paid the gaggle of students no notice as she went inside.
The remaining four members of the Portkey party did not follow immediately, however. "Daphne!" beamed Alessandra Greengrass with open affection. She swept her daughter into a hug. "Your friends are early."
"Mum, Dad, this is Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot," introduced Daphne, presenting the two boys, "and you've already met Blaise, Hermione, and Theodore."
"Pleased to meet my fellow Ravenclaws," greeted Darius Greengrass.
"You should invite your friends over more often, Daphne," smiled Alessandra at all of them, but her eyes lingered a little on Theo. Theo carefully diverted his gaze.
Behind the Greengrasses, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy looked on politely. "Hello Theodore, Miss Granger," nodded the Malfoy patriarch neutrally before swiping the tent flaps open with his cane, though his eyes did linger momentarily on the curious bulge of Terry's left sleeve. "Shall we go in? Let's not leave Skeeter in there with just poor Cornelius for company."
The others laughed and followed his lead into the pavilion. "Oh, if the three Champions have arrived he may yet be safe," Narcissa could be heard saying before the tent flaps closed behind her.
"Wow," commented Terry. "Must be nice to have parents who know people."
"You know people," Daphne pointed out, "remember Sirius?"
Terry chuckled aloud. "Can't forget him after all that excitement from last year."
"Especially not after the hilarious grimoire he sent me for Yule!" added Anthony, "I wonder if he's coming. I bet he's one of the VIPs."
"He wouldn't miss Harry's final Task for the world," opined Blaise, "a better question is whether he'll bring Lupin. My money's on yes."
"You guys are stating the obvious," snorted Terry, "Nobody's betting with either of you!"
"Here's a better wager," said Daphne, "will Slytherin be here or not."
Terry blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Daphne!" hissed Theo, suddenly animated, "you're seriously going to discuss that now?"
"Oh I put up a privacy ward for us," waved Daphne, "and it's about time we let them know. The abridged explanation is, somebody finally claimed the family name Slytherin. Not just the name, she claimed the position of family head."
"Oh, you told me about this," nodded Terry, following, "the family head is the one who inherits the direct assets of the ancestral line, with the responsibility to lead the family's other members right? I didn't know Slytherin still existed - as a family I mean."
"In magical tradition, any of your descendants can claim your family name no matter who they married or how distant they are from the current family head. You can even marry into a family and take your spouse's name like my dad did," explained Daphne.
"But even then, there are only two known members of the Slytherin family left. One is You-Know-Who," said Blaise, "and the other one just sent us letters offering protection from You-Know-Who if he ever returns. You see the significance now?"
The two Ravenclaws nodded with gaping understanding. "But why does that matter?" asked Anthony, "you think You-Know-Who is going to return from the dead?"
The three Slytherins glanced among one another, shuffling. Hermione decided to rescue them by explaining Harry and Ron's first-year adventures with the Philosopher's Stone. "So that's why we think he's not entirely dead."
'I'll spare you from this talk a bit longer, Theo, but not much longer. It looks like the others want an answer from you now.'
"There's been rumours around the common room," said Blaise, "rumours that there's been signs, but nothing concrete. Right, Theo?"
"There's been no sightings of him," shrugged Theo, evading the pointed question.
"So this new family head of Slytherin," pondered Terry hopefully, "I don't suppose there's any chance that they could just order You-Know-Who to, you know, stop?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't think a self-styled dark lord would be a very obedient heir, Terry."
Anthony threw up his hands in obvious disappointment. "Then what specifically are they offering? If they can't do anything about You-Know-Who."
"Shelter for the summers if our parents turn Death Eater," Blaise pointed out quietly, "if anyone chooses it."
"Ah."
"Yeah."
"Well," chuckled Terry awkwardly, "It probably won't matter much while we're all in school. I doubt You-Know-Who will even notice a bunch of kids, yeah?"
"There is that," agreed Theo rather quickly. By some misfortune his eyes met Hermione's yet again, and they both wanted to look away in shame. 'Is that unease because your father's finally chosen to shut his doors to me, Theo? Then it seems I've failed you.'
But there was still a chance. Until matters came to a physical duel on the battlefield there would still be a chance, and she owed it to him to keep trying.
With the two Ravenclaws digesting the new information and Theo lost in thoughts that only the Styx could fathom, it was Daphne who finally broke the tension. "So, the Venerable Mme. Slytherin," she remarked, "she told my mum she might be here. It's interesting to think that we'll be passing so close to her after all this mystery."
"She could just as likely be one of our VIPs than a foreign one, remember?" said Blaise, "for all you know you've probably already spoken to her at one of the dinners."
'No truer words said,' thought Hermione wryly. 'And now that your point is made, let us put the topic behind us.' "We should go and take our seats now."
"Yes, let's," said Terry, patting his left sleeve slightly. After all, they needed six very particular spots.
The viewing terrace by the former Quidditch pitch had been expanded and doubled in height in a way that only magic could accomplish. The judges' table stood a little way from the foot of the terrace, all decked out in a rich, sparkling tablecloth that resembled a starry night. Hermione and Anthony filed into the first row of the terrace on either side of Terry, so that the three of them were seated just behind the judges. Daphne, Blaise, and Theo sat down in the second row behind them.
Other students were arriving now. Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, and Neville took the seats to Hermione's right, while a chain of Ravenclaws filled the entire first row on Anthony's left. A look behind her showed that thanks to some vigorous waving from Theo, much of the second and third row were now occupied by Slytherins, although a second cluster was forming at the edge of the four top rows reserved for the Ministries' guests. Among them was a distinctive group of redheads, directed there no doubt by their enterprising brother Percy,
The Beauxbatons students mostly aggregated in a cluster on the far left, while the Durmstrang delegates actually arrived in a three-by-three marching column. "Of course Karkaroff would make a pageant out of just sitting down on a terrace," mocked Anthony. "I wonder if he makes them form up to go to the toilets as well?"
But the fur-clad column looked cheery enough walking in sync with military precision. Some among them were even humming to a jaunty marching tune. Not to be outdone, the blue Beauxbatons cluster started to sing a lovely, fluttering song in French. "That's their school song!" whispered Anthony, "something about butterflies and wings."
Were their own classmates content to sit and watch? No.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something please!" somebody belted out from the fifth row, "Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees!" Others followed his example, joining in on the singing with enthusiasm. But the Hogwarts song had no set tempo or even a designated key, so of course everyone sang along to their own. The result was an eclectic mix of sounds like at any typical start-of-year feast. It even did a wonderful job of incorporating the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons songs, despite the confusion of some of the foreign students.
"Oh, we do have a school theme too! C'mon, guys," muttered Daphne, pulling out her wand, "play the Nocturne with me."
Hermione felt rather than heard the momentary quieting of the group in their vicinity as her crisp eight-note melody pierced through the din like a chime. Daphne's "voice" was quickly joined by Blaise, and then by Theo after a beat of hesitation.
Then, a fourth and a fifth voice joined in from the second row. Gaius Avery and … Draco Malfoy?
"O-oh!" exclaimed Terry, and added Ravenclaw's high soprano to the mix. 'Dear stars!'
Hannah Abbott peered over curiously. "What are you guys playing?"
"The Nocturne of Hogwarts!" Despite the solemnity of all that was riding on tonight, Hermione was grinning from ear to ear. "Hey Neville, you practice the Gryffindor portion all the time, right?"
"I do!" nodded the boy proudly, and he joined in with Gryffindor's confident bass. Finally, it was Susan Bones who eventually rounded out the set with a simplified version of Hufflepuff's alto with Hermione's help.
The result was beautiful. A hush finally fell over the whole terrace as more and more people added their magic to the music. Some faltered, but with dozens of voices playing together it hardly mattered. All of Hogwarts sang together. The VIPs who were at last beginning to take their seats looked decidedly impressed.
The four melodies eventually joined together into the final chord of the cadence. It faded away into silence, which swiftly erupted into excited chatter. "That was unbelievable!" Hannah squealed, grabbing her two friends on either side in a big hug, "you guys were amazing!"
"I can't believe we just reinstated the Hogwarts Nocturne as the school theme," said Anthony, looking about with awe in his eyes, "and we actually got the whole school to play!"
Daphne laughed victoriously. "The whole school was amazing together. We are amazing together, even without our Heads of House to lead us like the way it was traditionally done."
Blaise sighed. "Sorry, I'm just reminiscing. Remember when we first decided to call ourselves the Nocturne Group because somebody insisted we needed a name to go with the lair? Right, Theo?"
"Why are you looking at me? I thought that name was Daphne's idea."
"I thought it was Sal's idea."
"Anyways," said Blaise, waving them on, "I just want to say, on that day I was sure that we could do anything together. No matter whatever or whoever stood in our way, you know?"
Theo looked at him. "I - "
But his reply was interrupted - by Albus Dumbledore, of all people. "Ah, music! A magic beyond all we do here!" he beamed, addressing the crowd. "On this night of friendly competition and cooperation, thank you all for sharing the songs of your schools with all of us."
The Hogwarts Headmaster and Supreme Mugwump was met with enthusiastic applause from across the terrace.
Dumbledore's presence meant that the other judges would be arriving shortly to take their seats too. Anthony nudged Terry not too gently in the ribs. "Oh! Oh! Get ready," he hissed.
Terry nodded, settling into an expression of deep concentration. Not bothering to put away his wand after the Nocturne performance, he tapped it absentmindedly against his left palm. Within his left sleeve, Hermione could see Crookshank's curious little head and his flicking tongue.
Madame Maxime took the chair beside Dumbledore, and Karkaroff the one beside hers. Bagman sat down beside Karkaroff. Only one empty chair remained.
"I still think it's Moody," said Blaise.
"I wouldn't bank on it," Hermione muttered back, watching Bartemius Crouch's back as he stiffly pulled out his chair.
"I guess our little friend will tell us soon," said Daphne diplomatically.
Crouch slowly eased himself into his seat. Just then, Moody stalked up to the judges' table as well. Uncaring of all the eyes on him, he bent down to whisper something in Dumbledore's ear.
"Sonorus," Bagman cast the voice amplifying charm at his throat, and prepared to begin his speech.
Suddenly, Terry stiffened. Seizing his wand, he levelled it at one particular wizard at the judges' table.
"It's him!"
AN: yup a chapter got removed on Monday. It was a chapter from year 1 that didn't end up being relevant and never will be.
Three more chapters left for Year 4 :)
