Remus' POV

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap!

I frowned as I ducked my head out of the huge cardboard box I'd been pulling books out of.

Artemis, Raylynx's owl, was incessantly tapping his talons against the huge front window of Flourish and Blotts.

I made my way to the door and opened it. Seeing me step outside, Artemis flew over to meet me. Artemis dropped an envelope into my waiting hand before taking off.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. The handwriting indicated that the letter had been written hastily. It said:

Remus,

Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire. According to Dumbledore and Crouch, he has to compete as the second Hogwarts Champion now. Keep Snuffles from doing anything brash. Keep safe. Clearly, someone is on the move against us.

Raylynx

I had to re-read the letter. What? I thought in disbelief. Harry has to compete in the TriWizard Tournament? But that's ridiculous. He's only fourteen. The level of magic required to survive the tasks is high enough that even sixth and seventh years struggle.

But if Dumbledore and Crouch both say that Harry has to compete, then it doesn't seem like there's a way out of this. I sighed. Oh, Harry.

My frown deepened even further as my eyes re-traced over the words: "Keep Snuffles from doing anything brash."

Too late for that, I thought grimly, folding up the letter and tucking it away in my pocket.

Sirius' POV

When I returned to the cave, I found Buckbeak terribly annoyed, for no less than three owls were perched on top of Buckbeak's back.

I gathered the three letters and shooed them away, before Buckbeak could make a grab for them, to eat them. Buckbeak had long since finished off the ferrets, and was desperate for some fresh prey.

"Just a minute," I told Buckbeak, soothing him with pats. I opened the first letter. It was from Harry:

Dear Snuffles,

You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes – I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night I got picked as a fourth champion. I don't who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, because I didn't.

Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak.

Harry

I cursed in my head. Lynx was right, I realized. Somehow, her guess was right on the money. Someone infiltrated Hogwarts and is using the TriWizard Tournament to get to Harry…

I quickly scanned the handwriting on the back of the remaining two envelopes. Recognizing Lynx's handwriting, I opened that envelope at once. The letter said:

Snuffles –

Someone put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire, and Harry's name appeared. I'm trying to convince Dumbledore to pull Harry out of the Tournament, but as of now, Dumbledore and Crouch seem set on the fact that Harry needs to compete.

I'm worried that you're doing to do something stupid as soon as you get this letter. Do not lose your head. Stay where you are, and please, whatever you do, keep out of sight.

I'm doing what I can, and I'll keep you updated.

Lynx

I was deeply disturbed by this. If this wizard or witch managed to fool even Dumbledore, they must be extremely powerful…

I wondered who could be behind this. Karkaroff? But I can't see Dumbledore being fooled by the likes of him.

Snape? My lip curled. Perhaps. That slimy git. How he managed to worm his way to Dumbledore's side is beyond my understanding.

But my experience with Peter had taught me not to count out anybody in the list of suspects. It could be literally anyone. I had to think broadly. It was the only way to protect Harry.

I wondered if I should head straight to Hogwarts right now. But my eyes fell on Raylynx's letter again: "Do not lose your head. Stay where you are, and please, whatever you do, keep out of sight."

With Dumbledore and Lynx already at Hogwarts, I wasn't sure if my racing over there would help or hurt Harry…

My head hurt. Every instinct within me was screaming at me to get going, to get as near Harry as possible in order to protect him and be there for him… But as Raylynx had written, I couldn't just lose my head. We had to be strategic here. We not only had to defend Harry, but we had to figure out who was behind all this to truly protect him.

Buckbeak neighed unhappily besides me.

"All right. I'm almost done, " I said, reaching over to stroke his magnificent head. "We'll get out of here and hunt for you in a second."

"I've just got one last letter," I assured Buckbeak. I quickly ripped it open and unfolded the crisp parchment. Why is the paper so official-looking? I looked at the back of the envelope again before reading the contents of the letter. The back of the envelope had a formal stamp marked on it that read: Information and Security Bureau.

My eyes widened. Have they already found information on Regulus?

My heart soared as I realized that I might have finally found information on my brother – and that I could potentially go and see him, even if he was still just some hare-brained Death Eater.

I hastily turned over the letter again, eager to learn of his whereabouts. But the entire letter only consisted of three words. Three extremely final words. For printed in thick, bold ink, were the words: Regulus Black – Deceased.

Raylynx's POV

"You said you wanted to see me," I said stiffly. "Make it quick. I've got class."

Snape stared down at me unpleasantly, making no effort to conceal the ill will he felt towards me.

"Yes," he sneered at me. "Your illicit activities have not gone unnoticed."

"Illicit activities?" I repeated mockingly. "Oh, pray tell."

At this, Snape stepped towards me threateningly. Lifting his book, he jabbed it into my shoulder. "If you ever steal from my stores again - "

"Steal from your stores? I'm not interested in your Potions, Snape," I retorted cuttingly.

"Don't you dare lie to me, Kingsley. I know," Snape hissed at me. "I know you're making Polyjuice Potion to hide that felon."

I snorted loudly. "Is this how you spend your days – concocting baseless conspiracy theories?"

"Baseless, is it? Then why am I missing boomslang skin and lacewing flies?"

"Maybe you've misplaced them," I said flatly.

Snape growled. "This is my last warn - "

At that moment, two shouts rang out from the corridor outside:

"Furnunculus!"

"Densaugeo!"

Snape paused. Then, at the same time, we both raced out of his office. I got to the door first. Throwing it open, I stepped out into the corridor.

Students had begun to gather around Snape's classroom, as there were only five or so minutes left until the beginning of class.

But the students had scattered into two groups. Slytherins were on one side, and Gryffindors on the other, and in the middle, two boys were standing with their wands still raised at each other – Harry and Draco.

Meanwhile, Ron was trying to calm down Hermione, who seemed to be whimpering and covering her mouth with her hands. Goyle was bellowing loudly, and he too, had his hands up to his face, though he was covering his nose.

"And what is all this noise about?" Snape said menacingly, stepping out of the office behind me.

Slytherins and Gryffindors alike broke out into loud explanations, talking over each other excitedly.

Harry's eyes met mine. But a moment later, we were both distracted by Hermione's distressed cry. Harry and I both turned to look at her. Ron had finally managed to drag Hermione's hands away from her face. Her front teeth were alarmingly elongated nearly beaver-like. Many of the Slytherins let out hearty guffaws.

Meanwhile, Goyle's face had burst out into painful boils. Snape was examining his face. A moment later, Snape said calmly, "Hospital wing, Goyle."

"Malfoy got Hermione, too!" Ron insisted.

Snape looked over at Hermione. Then, he said cruelly, "I see no difference."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

Both Harry and Ron broke out at once, shouting loud insults at Snape.

"YOU CALL YOURSELF A PROFESSOR! YOU'RE JUST A BULLY!"

"MALFOY JINXED HER, AND YOU WON'T EVEN HELP HER!"

Snape's eyes glittered with hard anger.

"Mr. Potter," I said, interjecting quickly, "if you would be so kind as to escort Miss Granger - "

"I think not," Snape broke in. "Mr. Potter will need to remain behind to discuss his punishment for speaking to me in such a crude manner. As does Mr. Weasley."

I took out my wand.

Snape instinctively stiffened and he plunged his hand into his robes.

But I pointed my wand at Hermione. A jet of pale gold light left the tip of my wand and hit Hermione. As I didn't know the specific medical spell for fixing her teeth, I'd gone for a weak and very general "stopping" spell. Thankfully, her teeth did in fact stop growing.

"Now then, Mr. Longbottom, could you please take Miss Granger up the hospital wing? I'm not an expert in medical spells, but Poppy – er, that is, Madam Pomfrey should be able to fix you up in a jiffy," I said. "Mr. Goyle, you too. Go. Now. And no fighting on the way up."

Snape snorted, unimpressed by my attempts at de-escalation. He pointed his finger at Draco Malfoy and said shortly, "Explain."

Immediately, Draco stated boldly, "Potter attacked me, sir - "

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted hotly.

Snape smiled grimly. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley."

"And fifty points from Slytherin and a detention for Mr. Malfoy," I followed up quickly.

Draco shot me a furious look.

I expected Harry and Ron to look at each other and trade nods or something of that nature, but to my surprise, Ron stiffly looked away from Harry, as though determined not to meet Harry's eyes.

Have they had a falling out? I wondered. I frowned, worried.

"On what grounds do you take points away from Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked me, glaring at me. "Mr. Malfoy has done nothing to warrant such punishment."

"He jinxed a fellow student," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm in front of all of these students.

"Again, as I said, I saw no difference in Miss Granger's countenance - "

"Then you are blind," I said, a little less diplomatically. "With all due respect, maybe your large nose has obscured your vision, Professor."

Many Gryffindors snorted at this. Snape's eyes flashed in anger.

"Anyhow," I continued, raising my eyebrow at Snape, "shouldn't you be starting class?"

Snape's eyes narrowed at me, but he finally turned away. He threw open the classroom door hard enough that the wooden door slammed into the stone wall with a loud crash. He strode in without another word. The Slytherins quickly filed in.

As Harry began to pass by me, I caught his eye for just a moment. He didn't exactly smile, which worried me, but he shot me a grateful look as he followed the others into Snape's classroom.

I had to sprint to get to my class in time. Even then, I was a few minutes late. "Sorry!" I blurted out as I burst into the classroom.

My sixth years looked up at me, mostly amused.

"There should be a Professor Points Hourglass," Fred suggested, his eyes glinting with humor, "where the students can take points away for Professors' misbehavior."

"Hear, hear!" Lee said loudly.

I smiled apologetically at Fred.

Then, I launched straight into teaching, not wanting to waste another minute. However, as I calmed down and began to find my usual rhythm in lecturing, I started to notice that many of the my students were wearing a common accessory – some kind-of badge on their cloaks, pinned to their chests.

And that was not all that had out of place. A swarm of Hufflepuffs who were normally sitting in the back now sat all together, bunching up protectively around Cedric. Meanwhile, the Gryffindors were sitting collectively on the opposite side of the room. The Ravenclaws and the few Slytherins who were in my class occupied the middle seats, but they determinedly shifted away their bodies from the Gryffindors.

After I assigned my in-class exercises, I walked around the classroom, trying to catch a glimpse of what the badges said. As I pretended to look over a student's shoulder, I could make out what his badge said: SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY—THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!

I couldn't help but let out a long sigh. Technically, the students were within their rights to wear these badges. But thinking of how this must make Harry feel, I couldn't just let this go.

At the end of class, I spoke to the entire class. "I realize that what happened on Halloween night was upsetting for many, particularly for those of you in Hufflepuff." I paused and looked over at Cedric, who was looking up at me with a careful expression. "While I am very pleased to see your support for your Champion, and I absolutely believe that Mr. Diggory deserves whole-hearted support from all of us, I think we must acknowledge that there are two Hogwarts Champions - "

Nora Levinson, one of Cedric's friends and also in Hufflepuff, scoffed loudly. "Yeah, but there's only one real Champion. That's the point of our badges, Professor."

"Mr. Potter is also a real Champion, just as Mr. Diggory is," I said stoutly.

"Well, weren't you in Gryffindor, Professor Kingsley?" Nora asked me.

"Yes, but that's neither here nor there," I replied.

Nobody challenged me directly, but the feeling of total disbelief was palpable among the students. The Hufflepuffs were becoming more and more bitter by the second.

"Why do Gryffindors always have to be so obnoxious? Seriously, you're worse than the Slytherins. At least they know they don't have to be in the spotlight for everything," a Ravenclaw named Dalston Everett murmured.

"Aw, shut up," George shot back. "If Harry could figure out how to trick Dumbledore's Age Line, then he damn well deserves to be Champion, don't you think?"

At this, the Gryffindors murmured their assent and even a few Ravenclaws looked as though George had a fair point.

"You're supposed to follow the rules. It's only fair!" a third Hufflepuff, Elias Lee, said angrily. "Getting rewarded for breaking the rules... Only Gryffindors consistently get away with that!"

"It's called having the backbone to risk things!" Angelina said, backing up George. "You might want to try it yourself once in a while, instead of feeling bitter about others doing it."

"In any case, Cedric's our only legitimate Champion," Nora said, glaring at George and Angelina. "Harry doesn't deserve it!"

"Nora," Cedric murmured from besides her. He shook his head slightly and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's all right."

"All I ask..." I began, and the entire class fell silent and looked up at me, "is that you treat both Champions with respect. We do not condone bullying here at Hogwarts, against anyone. Regardless of who you support, please keep that in mind."

"You're excused," I said quietly. "Have a good rest of the day."

As the students began to filter out of my classroom, I sat down at my desk, staring down at my papers. I tried to pretend like I was preparing for my next class, but I was too distracted by those damn badges.

"Professor?"

I looked up to see Cedric standing before me.

"Just so you know, I didn't ask people to wear those badges," he said, a bit embarrassed. "In fact, I asked my friends to stop wearing them, but - "

"I'm sure it's not your fault, Cedric," I replied. "And as I said, they should support you, especially your friends. I know you're a capable student, Cedric, but the Tournament can be difficult, and it's good to have friends who vouch for you. I'm just afraid that the implication is that Harry somehow doesn't deserve support, when he does…"

"Maybe it's not my place to ask this, Professor, but do you really believe that he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire?" Cedric asked me, and his own belief that Harry had, in fact, put his name in the Goblet, was clear in his tone.

I looked up at Cedric, making sure to make eye contact with him as I said, "Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, Cedric. Trust me. It wasn't him."

Cedric blinked, surprised by the straightforwardness of my answer and the seriousness of my demeanor. He seemed to weigh this information in his mind. "But why would someone else want to put Harry's name in the Goblet, then? Who else would want him to be Champion?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I'm wondering that myself."

Cedric nodded. Then, he said softly, "Professor, you said that Hogwarts doesn't condone bullying."

"Yes, I did say that."

"Well, those badges don't just say to support me. If you press the button, they change color and they say… er- they say 'Potter stinks.'"

"What?" I said, my eyes flashing with anger.

"Yes. So, since that counts as bullying…" Cedric's voice tapered off, but I realized what he was getting at, why he was telling me this. He was essentially giving me the information I needed to ban these badges.

"Thank you, Cedric," I said warmly. He's a really decent kid, I realized.

"Not at all," he said, blushing slightly. "Well, I'm off, Professor." He slung his school bag over his shoulder and left the room.

That evening, as I made my way down the Great Hall for dinner, I saw Draco Malfoy once again butting heads with Harry.

I heard Draco crowing aloud, "Half the Champions have died in the past! How long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? I reckon you won't last ten minutes in this Tournament! My father disagrees – he thinks you won't last five!"

A roar of laughter arose from everyone nearby, including from Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. I spotted Ron nearby and I realized that while he wasn't laughing, he also wasn't making any effort to defend Harry. Something's definitely wrong between them, I recognized.

Just then, Draco flashed his badge at Harry, pressing it so that it flashed "POTTER STINKS."

"Mr. Malfoy!"

The students nearest to me jumped. It seemed that, even as a Professor, I had the gift of going about unnoticed. Well, I was certainly thankful for it today. My blood was boiling. Not only had Draco so glibly and carelessly mentioned that past Champions had died, but he truly would not give Harry a rest.

It's about damn time the Malfoy boy learns his lesson, I thought bitterly. I'm no Moody, but I won't just stand still as he bullies my godson, either.

"Another fifty points from Slytherin," I said harshly.

A loud swarm of protests arose from the Slytherin students.

"That's not fair -!"

"Fifty points? That's not right!"

"You're biased, Professor!"

"You heard me," I snapped at them. "Bullying is not tolerated. And this is not the first time I've found you bullying Mr. Potter."

Draco's face had gone white with fury, but he still tried to cover up for himself, "I was only speaking to him… to warn him…"

"I heard you perfectly clearly," I told him sharply. "Don't press your luck, Mr. Malfoy."

"And those badges – they're not allowed," I announced to everyone. "So take them off this instance."

"We just want to support our Champion!" Ernie Macmillian, a Hufflepuff, shouted out angrily.

"You can wear badges to support Mr. Diggory, but you cannot wear badges that refer to him as the 'real' Champion and you most certainly cannot wear badges that insult Mr. Potter," I clarified.

Though disgruntled, most of the students around me obediently took off their badges – except for Draco Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy, take off your badge," I said warningly.

Draco's jaw was working furiously, as were his cold grey eyes glaring up at me. But there was nothing he could do, and he knew better than to press me now. As much as he might disrespect me, I still had authority over him. He slowly reached up and ripped off his badge. Then, he threw it down on the ground and stomped on it as he turned and left.

As he quickly walked away from me, I pulled out my wand and murmured, "Evanesco." The broken shards of the badge disappeared from the ground.

"Mr. Potter," I said, trying to sound as formal as possible, "if you would come with me…"

As soon as I closed my office door, Harry blurted out, "I know I shouldn't let it get to me. But it does. This is even worse than when the Chamber of Secrets opened and everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir!"

He paused, and forcing himself to take a deep breath, he looked down at his feet and murmured, "Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean for all of that to come out."

"Don't apologize," I said. I sighed and leaned back on my desk. "Champion… Everyone thinks it's a dream come true. But it's a tough position to be in if you're not mentally prepared for it."

"Everyone thinks I wanted this," Harry said savagely. "Even Ron."

It was his last words of "even Ron" that made me realize how badly this was affecting him. Harry had always had a thick skin – he'd had to. But he'd also always had Ron and Hermione to back him up. Losing Ron's confidence was affecting him severely.

"Have you talked to Ron about this?" I asked, frowning.

Harry shook his head. Pacing a bit, he finally walked over to Quincy. Staring down at the snoozing salamander, Harry muttered bitterly, "It's not my fault he's decided to be ridiculous about this."

"No, of course it's not your fault," I agreed. "But it's not always about fault. Sometimes it's just about who needs who more…"

Marlene's face rose up in my mind. I remember what I had told Remus after we'd learned about Marlene's death. I had said: "She never did forgive me. I should have gone after her and apologized. Why didn't I? Why was I always making her come to me?"

"Well, never mind," I said, not wanting to depress Harry any further.

"Professor, why is this happening to me?" Harry asked, frustrated. "Do you have any idea who could have put my name in the Goblet?"

The truth was, of course, that I'd been thinking about this non-stop since Harry's name came out of the Goblet. Strangely enough, my mind seemed to skip around a bit when I tried to remember all of my memories around who might be behind this – almost like a small, misplaced grove in a record…

"I'm not sure, Harry," I admitted honestly. "But I was thinking about something that you'd told me about over the summer."

Harry waited for me to go on.

"Your dream," I told him. "Remember you told me about a dream of Lord Voldemort and Wormtail?"

"Oh, yes." Harry paused. "But that was just a dream."

Is it? If you're a …. Horcrux? I quickly wiped the thought from my mind.

"Yes," I agreed, "but nonetheless, perhaps you should take a look at a – erm, certain Zonko's product and scan it for any sign of a rat…"

A grin rose onto Harry's face and his eyes flickered back to life with signs of mischief as he realized that I was talking about the Marauder's Map.

"I'll do that," he promised me.

"Atta boy," I said, smiling at him.

"I wrote to Snuffles about what happened, too," Harry told me. "Hermione told me that I should and that it'd be better for Snuffles to hear it from me than from someone else."

I nodded. "I think she's right. And I wrote to him, too, begging him not to do anything… too brash."

Harry's grin widened. "You worry about him too much, Professor."

"Do I?" I sighed. "Yes, I suppose I do."

"Well, anyways, it's late," I said. "I'm sure you've got plenty to do without me keeping you here."

"Good night, Professor."

I reached out and ruffled his hair gently as he left my office and went on his way.

Sirius' POV

The Bureau of Information and Security can't be telling the truth, I told myself. They're a run-down market. The black market of information is hardly what it once was, with the Ministry's strict regulations and the downfall of Voldemort. On top of that, the Selwyn family no longer holds much sway in this arena. They probably just made up that Regulus was dead to swindle me out of my money. He's not dead. He can't be dead.

"Ma'am," the blonde witch said, frustrated, as she stared at me under Polyjuice Potion guise (this time as the female store clerk from the Muggle mart in Raylynx's neighborhood). "We can't get you the official documentation. Those documents are archived and kept under lock and seal. But trust me, our agent went and saw the information himself. This is accurate information. You can trust me on that."

"I can't trust you. I can't trust anyone," I argued back. "As soon as I've paid, you haven't got any incentive to tell the truth."

The blonde witch from the Bureau of Information and Security stared at me, frowning.

"Are you going to bring me the actual document or not?" I asked impatiently. "I have gold."

She continued to stare at me intensely. Then, she finally said, "Fine. Yes. Come back in a week's time."

Jasper Riley's POV

"Malfoy's on a goddamned warpath. Apparently, Moody turned his son into a ferret…"

"No, I heard it was a mink."

"Does that matter?"

"Well, a mink is a mammal whereas a ferret is a subspecies of a mammal."

"Shut the hell up. Anyways, I bet you wouldn't know the difference if your life depended on it."

"Well, probably not. Anyways, Malfoy's pretty determined to - "

Dawlish paused as I abruptly stepped away from him and Savage, staring at a broken link hanging on one of the Archive cabinets. That's where we were: in the Archive of Records.

"What is it?" Dawlish asked me.

About a week ago, Lucius Malfoy had dragged a black market vendor and informant named Tarren Krawley to the Ministry of Magic. Tarren had absolutely refused to work with us in any way, even when Gregory offered him a reduction in charges for his compliance, which Gregory had to work like hell to get permission from Rufus Scrimgeour. But Tarren still wouldn't budge, which then made us believe that Tarren was either neck-deep in the black market trade or else was involved in some other type of crime.

Barty Crouch then stepped in and after Crouch's rather ruthless interrogation of Tarren, we discovered that Sirius Black was, indeed, in London – or had recently been in London.

This piece of information shifted our entire hunt for Sirius Black because the last piece of evidence we'd come across was the white lily flower laid on the Potters' grave. Ollivander had identified the magic as coming from Norwegian wood, and so all of the Aurors had been taken off of our posts in Diagon Alley and the like, and sent to Norway.

It had been an extremely difficult search there, as the Norwegian Ministry of Magic had been livid at our entering their lands at our will. I didn't blame them, to be honest. Gregory, too, had suggested that we find a way to hand off our assignment to the Norwegian Aurors, but Rufus had been set on British Aurors first-handedly hunting Sirius. I knew why, of course – Rufus didn't want the Norwegian Aurors to catch Sirius. It would make the Ministry look bad if Sirius evaded the British Ministry for over a full year, only to be caught immediately by Norwegian Aurors.

But now, we had all been called back to London, thanks to Tarren's information.

Tonight, while Shacklebolt discussed how to move forward with Rufus and Gregory, Savage, Dawlish, and I had been sent down the archives to pull out information on every family member Sirius had ever been linked to prior to his imprisonment.

We were just about to transport back a few boxes of papers back to our offices when I noticed something – a broken magical seal on one of the file cabinets. I hesitated. Then, setting my box down on the floor, I stepped closer to the cabinet.

I picked up the broken halves of the magical lock. It was broken into, I recognized at once. This person didn't have the password.

My eyes slowly wandered over to the names in the cabinet filing: Magenta Black, Alexia Black, Hesper Black, Cygnus Black, Phineas Black, Elladora Black, Orion Black, Walburga Black, Bellatrix Black, Andromeda Black, Narcissa Black…

I paused. Then, I reached into my cloak and fished out the piece of paper Scrimgeour had given me. On it, he had scribbled down:

Immediate Family:

Orion Black

Walburga Black

Regulus Black

All deceased years ago.

I looked up from the piece of paper and scanned the files again.

Slowly, I realized that there was, in fact, a missing file: "Regulus Black."

I frowned. Who would care about Regulus Black when he's already been dead for a long time? What else could they have possibly wanted from that file?

"Riley, what the hell is going on?" Savage's voice floated forward. "We aren't going to wait for you forever. This box is damn heavy."

"Just levitate it, you ass," Dawlish told him.

I slowly closed the cabinet and then backed away. I purposefully didn't fix the lock. I planned on coming back to examine it.

Dumbledore's POV

After reading the latest letter from a very disgruntled Lucius Malfoy, I sat back in my chair, looking up at the beautiful clock on my office ceiling. The rotating stars and planets indicated that it was nearly time for the weighing of the wands.

Just then, there was a soft knock at my door.

"Yes. Please come in," I called.

A very small boy with mousy brown hair, but quite bright brown eyes, walked in. "Professor D-Dumbledore," he stammered anxiously.

"Mr. Creevey," I said, smiling down at him. "Thank you for responding to my message."

"Of course! I came at once," he said, blushing.

"I'm honored. Well, now, I've a message for you to deliver."

"Sir?"

"To Harry Potter."

Colin's face lit up. "Harry, sir?"

"Yes. I believe you'll find him in the dungeons for Potions class with Professor Snape," I informed him. "Please tell Professor Snape that Mr. Ludo Bagman has asked for all of the Champions to gather. The Champions will need to take all of their things with them, as Mr. Bagman isn't sure how long the meeting will last."

"Meeting for what, sir?" Colin blurted out before he could stop himself.

I mused, wondering what to tell him. "For pictures," I said finally.

"They're going to be in the newspaper?" he said breathlessly.

"Yes, I believe so."

"That's great! I'll go tell Professor Snape at once, sir!"

I chuckled. "Wait just one more moment, Mr. Creevey. I hate to detain your enthusiasm in any way, but my boy, you don't know where you'll be taking him."

"Oh. Yes. Right."

I instructed Mr. Creevey as to where to lead Harry, and then I watched Colin practically bounce out of my room.

I smiled to myself. Perhaps it's a bit mean of me to allow Mr. Creevey to bother Harry, but the young boy is so bright, and besides, I imagine Harry could rather do with a bit of cheer and support, even if it is over-exuberant.

I then stood up from my desk and made my way out of the office. Mr. Ollivander had requested that, if possible, I bring Professor Kingsley along to the Weighing of the Wands. I had checked the schedule and found that Professor Kingsley did, indeed, have a free period at this time. I strode out of my office and made my way to the Ancient Runes classroom.

Raylynx Kingsley had left her classroom door open, no doubt to invite in any student who may have been wanting to see her. But when I entered her classroom, I found the eager professor dead asleep on her desk, drooling slightly on her notes.

I glanced at her desk. Her head was surrounded by stacks of textbooks of various heights: "A Liar's Guide to Magical Contracts: How to Get Out of Them," "The History of Binding Magic: Restraints and Releases," and "Animus and Statis: The Mid-Atmosphere Where Contract Magic Takes Place."

"Professor Kingsley."

She jolted up at once. "Y-Yes?" she said hurriedly. She quickly reached up to brush her hair out of her face and wipe her mouth, only to accidentally smear a smudge of blue ink across her cheek.

I looked at her a bit sternly. "All of your fellow Professors are currently teaching…"

Raylynx looked up at me guiltily.

"As it is, you are needed elsewhere," I informed her, breaking into an amused smile. "Come. Someone is waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?" she asked, pushing herself out of her chair.

"Yes." I gestured before me, indicating that she should go first.

As she stepped ahead of me, I remarked lightly, "I'm sure your students would be overjoyed to know that professors, too, must pull the occasional all-nighter."

"But I would not keep your door open," I warned her. "I've received a distraught letter from a certain – er – old acquaintance who has made it clear that he is on warpath after you forced his son to read Muggle fairytales for an hour."

"I thought it might teach Draco some good lessons," Raylynx told me straightforwardly.

"Was he impressed?" I wondered.

"Clearly not," Raylynx replied sardonically. "Anyways, Headmaster, would you mind telling me where we're going?"

"The Weighing of the Wands."

"What? Already?" she said, distressed.

"Professor Kingsley, if I may suggest, your time would be far better spent preparing Harry for the tasks, and not how to avoid them altogether," I commented. "Practical magic, not contract magic."

"The tasks…" she said, and sighed heavily. "How could a fourth year ever be ready to take on TriWizard Tournament tasks?"

"The tasks will be easier this year," I assured her. "We made sure of that, Professor Kingsley."

"Easier?"

"Yes. Only the third and final task will be a series of challenges. The other two tasks have been greatly pared down."

"Would you tell me what they were?" she asked me.

I smiled knowingly at her. "And why are you suddenly so eager for information about the Tournament, I wonder?"

Raylynx shot me a look. "You know why, Dumbledore."

"Then, might I suggest a compromise?" I said lightly.

"Compromise… That word is usually soothing, but I can't help but be frightened of it whenever you use it," Raylynx told me.

I chuckled lightly. "You are always so wary of me, Professor Kingsley."

"Well, Professor, what can I tell you? The less powerful must be more cautious. It's the way the world works," she replied, easily matching my tone and wit. "What's this compromise?"

"For each creature we bring to our grounds, we require a… chaperone, if you like." I spoke very quickly so as not to be overheard. "The first task consists of dragons - "

"Dragons!?" The blood left Raylynx's face.

"I beg you to keep your voice down," I implored Raylynx.

She shook her head at me, as if to protest, but she held her tongue.

"Charlie Weasley is a part of the team that will help to transport the dragons to our grounds," I explained. "As for the second task, I myself will be the main point person. I have certain language skills that will come in handy. However, there is one creature, whom we have only just gotten approved by the Ministry, that is still looking a friend."

"A creature? I'm no good with creatures, Headmaster," Raylynx said quickly. "Remus told me so."

"Well, you got along with her quite well last time."

Raylynx blinked in confusion. "Last time?"

"The sphynx, Raylynx," I reminded her. "I had rather hoped that you could keep her entertained while Hagrid grows the hedges for the third and final task."

Raylynx's eyes widened. "She nearly crushed my mind, Dumbledore. I don't think I can - "

"Just think about it, please," I implored her quietly.

We had come to the classroom. I put my finger to my lips for a moment, reminding Raylynx not to speak of the Tournament once the door opened.

She nodded, though rather uncertainly, as she was still taking in all of the information I'd given her. I could see her thoughts play out on her face: dragons and sphynxes, oh my…

With a small smile, I pulled open the door. We stepped inside together. Everybody else had already gathered, except for Ollivander… and Harry.

"Where's Harry?" Raylynx asked immediately.

"Oh, the journalist took him over to interview him," Cedric replied, pointing towards the broom cupboard.

"Journalist?" Raylynx repeated, her nose wrinkling.

"Yes, a lady with blonde curls and a large green feather quill - " Fleur began to say with an air of distaste.

Raylynx was already marching determinedly across the classroom to the broom cupboard. She wrenched open the door and said loudly, "Excuse me."

I followed Raylynx, hoping to calm the potentially tumultuous storm that could occur between two very strong spirits.

"Ah, if it isn't the prior Champion!" Rita said delightedly, as she recognized Raylynx. Then, she spotted me walking up behind Raylynx. "Dumbledore!"

Upon seeing me, Rita hastily shoved her quill and parchment into her crocodile-skin bag and snapped it shut. "Dumbledore," she repeated eagerly, "how are you? I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"

"Enchantingly nasty," I said, laughing to myself as I recalled her devastatingly charming words. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."

Rita nodded sagely. In full confidence, she said smartly, "I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street -"

"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita," I said, "but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard."

"Harry, come with me," Raylynx said commandingly. Looking quite relieved to get away from Rita, Harry followed Raylynx and hurried back into the main room.

At that moment, the last guest – Mr. Ollivander – had arrived. He looked around at all of us. He inclined his head to me in a subtle greeting. I bowed back. Then, when his silvery eyes fell upon Raylynx, a rare smile graced his face for a brief moment.

I still remembered the first time Ollivander had written to me about Raylynx. "There is a young girl attending Hogwarts who I believe has the aptitude to create wands. You understand how rare this is, Albus, and I will not move forward unless you can give me your full confidence that this student has the temperament to delve into the mysteries of wand-making…"

I had replied to him, saying, "As I do lack the aptitude to create wands myself, I cannot vouch for any particular student. But if you would be so kind as to come down to Hogwarts and speak with me in person, I would be delighted to help you make a determination."

The following week, Ollivander had come personally to speak to me about taking Raylynx as his apprentice.

"Albus. My wand-making is my life. I hope to leave behind a legacy. I need someone of the highest caliber – in imagination and in insight. I can craft a person to be a wandmaker the way I can craft wood to become a wand. My apprentice will be channel to challenge my knowledge just as a wand channels magic. However, I cannot coax what is not wood into wand. That is to say, I have to come to seek your assurances that Raylynx Kingsley is the type of person who is capable of becoming a wand-maker in her very essence…"

"Really, Garrick? How could I know that?" I asked, chuckling.

"Because, Albus, being a genius yourself, you can identify others' potentials better than most," Ollivander replied, not allowing me to escape through my humor. "I trust you."

"Garrick, we must each trust our own judgment," I told him honestly. "You must have some reason for believing that she could be your apprentice. Tell me – what made you think that she could be the one?"

Garrick paused. Then, he said, "She respects wands. She bought a boy his wand when his own mother refused to buy it for him. She came racing into my shop, determined to buy a complete stranger his wand."

He continued, "And then there was the moment when she found her own wand. Albus, I had believed I'd miscreated this wand. It was the first I'd ever made. My own father told me to put it away and never show it to a customer. He told me I'd mismatched the woods – pine and pink ivory don't mix well. And sure enough, when eleven-year-old Raylynx Kingsley held this wand, the magic she produced was strange. No light emitted from the wand, but the entire shop was suddenly cast in a soft glow… I'd never seen such light before. And it was strange to me that a child could produce magic as atmosphere. Most children think of producing or possessing magic directly. They produce something directly from their wands – ribbons or sparks or such. But her magic was different. It was… free-flowing. Barely, barely hers, and therefore very broad in width. Do you see what I'm saying?"

"Yes. You think she has the ability to construct a world in which others can share in the magic that she produces."

"Precisely. And that, after all, is the entire significance of creating wands – to shape your own knowledge and ability and split it infinitely, so that others can use it to channel their own magic."

"It sounds as though you have your answer, Garrick. You may train Raylynx Kingsley as your apprentice. I whole-heartedly approve, and I will do my utmost to ensure she takes all of the necessary classes."

"Thank you, Albus. And, one last question – how is Fawkes?"

"Fawkes is well, thank you. Has the remaining wand with his tail feather been sold yet?"

"No, not yet. I will write you when it is sold."

And, sure enough, many years later, Garrick Ollivander had written to me: "The phoenix feather wand has been sold, Albus. It will interest you to know that the two owners of the wands made from Fawkes' tail feathers are none other than Tom Riddle and Harry Potter.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" I said, facing the Champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Ollivander stepped into the empty space in the middle of the room. "Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?"

Fleur obliged, stepping forward and handing him her wand. Ollivander twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks.

I watched Ollivander admiringly. His connection to all different types of wands was something that had always fascinated me. I myself could barely control my own wand… The Elder Wand. I frowned a little in distaste as I thought of my own wand, lying beneath my robes.

"Dear me," Ollivander said suddenly, "the core of this wand is -?"

"Veela hair," Fleur told him proudly. "A strand from my grandmother's head."

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander. "Very interesting. I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands. However, to each her own, and if this suits you…"

"Orchideous!" he murmured, and a beautiful bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip. Scooping up the flowers, Ollivander handed both the flowers and her wand back to Fleur.

Cedric approached Ollivander next and presented him with his wand.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Ollivander excitedly. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn… Must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me." Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand and nodding, said, "Very good, Mr. Diggory. Here you are, there's your wand back."

Viktor got up next and handed Ollivander his wand.

"A Gregorovitch creation," Ollivander murmured immediately. "A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I… however…"

Ollivander lifted the wand and examined it. "Hornbeam and dragon heartstring?"

Krum nodded.

"Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… Avis!" A blast sounded as a number of small, twittering white birds erupted from the end of Krum's wand. I raised my hand and the window opened so that the birds could fly through.

Meanwhile, Harry had approached Ollivander.

"Ah, yes," Ollivander said, as he accepted Harry's wand from him. "Yes. How well I remember…" His pale eyes gleamed as he examined Harry's wand. Finally, Ollivander made a fountain of wine shoot out of the tip of the wand, before he nodded in satisfaction. "It's still in perfect condition, Mr. Potter. I hope it serves you well."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, taking his wand back from Ollivander. Ollivander's eyes lingered on Harry for a moment as Harry walked away, holding his wand in his hand.

I stood up from the judges' table and said, "Thank you all. You may go back to your lessons now – or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end…"

However, Bagman reminded me, "Photos, Dumbledore, photos!"

I paused. "Ah, yes." I pretended that I had genuinely forgotten.

Meanwhile, Ollivander had risen from the table and beckoning to Raylynx, had motioned for her to leave with him. Raylynx looked over at Harry one last time, who was being pulled into the center of the group of people by Rita, before she followed Ollivander out.

Jasper Riley's POV

"How may I -?" The receptionist at the front desk of the Bureau of Information and Security fell silent when she saw me.

Hands in my pockets, I walked up to her. Quietly, I said, "It's been a long time… sister."

"I'm afraid you've mistaken me for somebody else," the blonde witch before me said primly, not meeting my eyes.

"Oh, have I, Roslyn?"

"Yes, because you see – I'm not related to any werewolves." Her voice slipped into a disgusted growl at the word "werewolves."

"Still jealous that I was the one who was turned?" I teased her.

"Shut up," she hissed at me. "I hate it when you say nonsensical things like that."

"Anyways, go run along and play your little Auror farce," she said mockingly. "Jasper Riley."

"You know, you've no right to speak badly about the Aurors," I replied. "Not when we do all of the dirty work for you."

She paused. Suddenly becoming much more careful, she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how we Aurors risk our lives to gather information, only for you to come in and steal the information from us and make a fortune off of it."

"We don't do that," she said smoothly. "We've never done that."

"Of course you haven't," I replied grimly. "After all, what need would you have for the file of Regulus Black?"

Her eyes flashed, but she quickly resumed her composure.

"I know your methods," I reminded her. "Don't forget. Mother and Father trained me before they trained you. I know exactly what kind of magic you use to break the locks."

Roslyn remarked simply, "I didn't do it."

"Well, whoever you trained was messy. They didn't finalize the Secrecy Spell, and it left blue traces on the broken lock hours after they left."

"I don't know what you're talking about," my sister replied steadfastly.

"Roslyn," I said, and my voice became serious. "Why were you looking for information on Regulus Black? Who was the client?"

Roslyn suddenly laughed brightly. "Oh, my big brother is an idiot. You came all the way here and forced yourself to see my face again just to ask that question? Merlin, I suddenly feel sorry for the Ministry, having to rely on Aurors like you."

"As I said, your own hired criminal wasn't so savvy either," I replied. "Tell me."

She just shook her head. "A lady never kisses and tells."

"Roslyn, I could expose this entire operation," I told her, sighing. I never liked threatening anyone, and certainly not my sister, even if I despised her on some level.

"You won't do it," she said haughtily.

"Why's that?"

"Because it'll hurt you too and you know it," she told me, finally looking at me. "When the world finds out that you're Jasper Selwyn, do you think the Ministry would continue to let you play at being an Auror anymore? No, it'll sink you right to the ground."

"I'm not afraid of sinking," I said heavily. "I've been sinking… But it's as Mother and Father used to say – fiat voluntas dei."

"If this is the will of God, let it be done," I murmured quietly. "I don't have the strength to fight against it anymore."

"You're pathetic," Roslyn scoffed. "Fine. Shall I take pity on you and give you a hint? After all, we're light years ahead of the Ministry at this point. All of your efforts are already shot."

I studied Roslyn, trying to understand what she was saying. Something about her words unnerved me, though I couldn't quite understand why. What is she on about - "light years ahead of the Ministry"? Regarding what?

Roslyn's eyes met mine. With a smile playing along her bright red lips, she told me, "It's not about who would care about Regulus Black being dead. It's about who wouldn't have known that Regulus Black had died."

She waited for me to realize what she was saying. And after only a short moment, I did. "Sirius Black," I said aloud. Of course, he's been in Azkaban for the past twelve years. He wouldn't have known that his brother died…

Merlin, so he really is in London.

I hesitated, as my suspicions suddenly began to grow about what was happening. If Sirius came here for information on Regulus, then he can't have just walked in here as himself. He would have been in some kind-of disguise. And where else would he get a disguise – except from the black market, except from Tarren?

"Excuse me," I said to Roslyn, and turning, I quickly made my way out of the building.

Roslyn merely tutted. She smirked as she watched me leave, knowing that I was already far too late to capture my prize, which, in a few days' time, would be tied down and locked up in the basement of this very building.

a/n:

to Momochan77: Yes, exactly - both Dumbledore and Raylynx have good (and deeply personal) reasons to take the stances that they do, but it inspires very different behavior. But neither of them are perfectly in accordance with their own ideals, either. As Dumbledore points out, Raylynx's emotions are complicated. In trying to protect Harry, she is also driven by a need for redemption, which is her own internal and emotional agenda (and not necessarily healthy for Harry to receive, either). What's more, as much as she might want to, she can't just ignore the fact that Harry is a Horcrux and she already knows that for a Horcrux to be destroyed, the container must also be destroyed beyond repair. There's a lot of fear in her heart. And as we saw in the Order of the Phoenix canon book/movie, Dumbledore is not immune from giving in to his emotions, either. Also, as much as Raylynx might argue with Dumbledore, I think that you can still see that deep down, she depends on him to keep Harry safe in the present, and she sometimes despises herself for doing so. I think that since she was much younger, Raylynx wanted to be independent of Dumbledore, but she grudgingly respects and trusts his intelligence more than she lets on. It's an interesting relationship (I hope) and I look forward to continuing to developing it! And "slimy manipulation," haha, that's a sport-on phrase for what ol' Barty Jr.'s up to. I keep thinking about poor Mad-Eye, locked up in his trunk this whole time... Anyways, thank you again for your review!