Ready for some cunning but confrontational Harry?
Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!
The recognizable sections belong to JKR
Chapter 32
October 31st, 1994
Harry stared at the blank piece of parchment. The tiny ink footsteps were still moving up to the DADA classroom and the office next to it. In the office itself, Harry saw the stationary name tag of Alastor Moody.
This did not make sense...why was Bartemius Crouch, Head of the International Magical Cooperation Department and judge in the Triwizard Tournament entering his name into the competition? What was his end goal? Harry needed time to think...it was close to four o'clock in the morning, but he could still use the time turner to get some more sleep later. Right now, he needed to talk to Salazar.
"Things didn't go according to plan," Harry just said, as he entered the Founders Quarters.
Salazar listened quietly as Harry retold the entire story:
"Okay, Harry...that's a lot to take in, of course. But let's recap:
You have been entered into the Tournament, just as you yourself have planned. That is therefore not an issue, assuming his Confundus charm works properly.
However, we don't yet know the reasons, as to why you were entered by Crouch and what Moody's role is in this entire plot. For now, I would advise to let things play out and not expose Crouch until we know exactly what his goals are…
You mentioned that Voldemort and the Rat are planning something and you can hear them in your dreams. If we assume that these two events are connected, then it is better to let things run their course, watch and learn as much as we can.
If this truly leads back to Tom, then interfering at this point only costs us our advantage and he might change his plans and become unpredictable. Stay on alert and keep an idea on Moody and Crouch.
The plot might involve hurting or killing you and making it look like an accident in the tournament. However, you will get through this. Just embrace your Slytherin side and be cunning and resourceful, you understand?"
Harry nodded: "I have to act surprised when my name comes out of the Goblet. I can't let anyone get suspicious and reveal that I know more than I should. I have to fool Dumbledore once more… Maybe I can convince him with an oath? Technically I did not enter my name myself, but I allowed it to happen…"
"The situation is too complex to use a magical oath. You risk losing your magic since you were fully aware of what's going on and how your name came out. Don't risk it… as soon as your name comes out, you are in a binding magical contract… there is nothing they can do about that." Salazar advised.
"Well, time for another year at Hogwarts, where everyone will hate me… They will think I cheated my way into the Tournament. I just hope Fleur believes me… but could I even tell her?"
"I would advise against it, Harry. You don't know her well enough yet and her pride might get in the way of her. She is unpredictable right now and might cross our plans. You will have to keep this secret to yourself."
Harry nodded sadly. He started doubting that the Veela would be understanding of the situation now… In his original plan, where he freely admits to having entered himself, he might have been able to persuade her. Now, however, he needed to act like this all happened involuntarily.
"I have a long day ahead of myself. Let me use the time turner and get some rest. I will spend tomorrow with Fleur and in the evening, I will be declared a champion. I will see you later that night for our ritual… it's Halloween after all." With that, Harry took his leave.
A couple of hours later, but after a full night's rest for Harry, the young wizard finished his workout in the ROR and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He checked the map. Alastor Moody was still in his office, but Crouch sat in the Great Hall... Let's see if as an imposter or as himself?
It was again Crouch in his Polyjuice form. Harry tried not to look suspicious and simply helped himself to some breakfast. At 7:30 am the delegation from Beauxbaton arrived, led by Madam Maxime and Fleur right behind her.
The giant headmistress led her students right in front of the Goblet where they entered their names one by one. Harry watched Fleur, as she confidently placed her small piece of parchment in the flames. She stepped out of the age line and gracefully walked over to take a seat beside Harry.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle, how was your first night in Scotland?" Harry asked her with a grin.
"It was fine, thank you, Harry. Most students were too excited to sleep anyways. As if any of them had a chance of being picked against me…" Fleur stuck her delicate chin up in the air.
"Alright, firebird… get some breakfast and then you will have your tour." Harry laughed.
Fleur shot him a cold glare: "Don't play with fire, Harry… I thought you had learned your lesson, non?" But the corner of her lip barely twitched.
"What about you, have you tried anything to enter your name into the Goblet?" Fleur eyed him curiously.
Harry gulped… he knew this part would come and he hated lying to Fleur about it: "Oh no… I thought I'd give you a chance to win a shiny trophy yourself, for once" He grinned, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes.
Fleur regarded him for a couple of seconds… Shit, did she know he was lying?
"Fine, let's start with the tour then." Fleur finished her breakfast, rose from her seat, and expectantly looked at Harry.
"As Mademoiselle wishes."
The two teens left the Great Hall and Harry decided to start with the castle itself. They could go outside on the grounds when it became a bit warmer, as the day progressed. They started with the ground floor and Harry showed her the greenhouses for Herbology and the way down to the dungeons.
While guiding Fleur around, he also explained the different Houses and their traits, as well as the point system.
"I would have never assumed that this Hat placed you in Ravenclaw," Fleur interrupted.
Harry grinned at her knowingly: "And where would you have put me, now, after learning about the different traits in each House."
Fleur looked deep into his eyes for a couple of seconds, as if she was trying to stare into his soul. Her blue eyes were so memorizing that Harry was almost lost in trance.
"It is very difficult with you, I think. You are as brave as a Gryffindor, fighting in a dueling tournament as the youngest competitor ever… or confronting six grown wizards alone by yourself after the world cup…
You can be very loyal, from what I have seen so far. The loyalty to your dead parents' memory… loyalty to your godfather and doing everything for his freedom... and even your loyalty to me, when defending me against that German brute in Moscow."
"If you say that I should be a Puff, I will hex you, Fleur!" Harry interrupted her, but his grin betrayed his true emotions.
Fleur laughed and continued: "Ravenclaw might seem like an obvious choice, especially since you are one of the best students, this castle has ever seen. However, I think it's all a farce."
"What do you mean by a farce? Do I not make a good Ravenclaw?"
"Harry... Slytherin seems perfect for you. I mean, you even speak Parseltongue. I don't know if I have ever met a person as cunning and as ambitious as you. You wear so many faces and seem to have so many secrets… I just hope one day you will share a couple of them with me." She sighed.
Harry did not say a word for almost a minute. The two teens were making their way back down to the grounds now.
"You are right… I should have been a Slytherin. But for very specific reasons, I asked the hat not to put me in that house."
"Even further proof that you are wearing the wrong colors right now… I always thought green fit you better anyways." Fleur gave him a mischievous smile.
Harry caught the reference to his eyes, but had a couple of questions himself:
"What about you? Which house do you think you would be sorted into if you attend Hogwarts?"
"I have a suspicion, but tell me what you think," Fleur replied.
"It's very similar to my situation, I guess. You are certainly brave and proved it by standing with me against those Death Eaters. You knew what they might do to a young woman like yourself and you still decided to confront them.
You are fiercely loyal and I think you'd do anything for your family, especially your sister. I know you are ambitious, but I don't think you would be ruthless enough for Slytherin. I'd say Ravenclaw would fit you the most, unless there is a house that values beauty over anything else, of course." Harry added cheekily.
Fleur actually blushed a little at Harry's complement and let out her melodic laughter: "You are a charmer, Harry. The girls at Hogwarts should be very careful with you… Who knows how many innocent hearts you will break soon enough."
They continued their tour and Harry showed her the grounds around the Castle, including Hagrid's Hut, the Quidditch Stadium, Forbidden Forest, and finally the Whomping Willow, where he told her the story of how he met Sirius for the first time.
Around lunch, the two returned to the Great Hall for a snack, before Fleur took her leave. It was her OWL year and even while competing in the tournament, she would be taking them at the beginning of summer back in France. Harry decided to return to the Chamber and prepare everything for his ritual tonight.
The Healing-Ritual would allow him to recover much quicker from physical, magical, and mental injuries or exhaustion. For example, future physical wounds will heal better and his magical core will replenish quicker after draining it. In addition, Harry would receive a light immunity to most poisons and venoms.
Among the necessary materials were a vial of Basilisk Venom and almost half a liter of his blood to have an adequate amount of phoenix tears. Also, different venoms, including from an Acromantula, a Chimera, and a Manticore. Everything was prepared so far.
For the next couple of hours, Harry decided to do some research on the Tournament. Chances were, he would be competing at the end of the day. From what he read so far, it was just as Dumbledore had said: The death toll rose too high but before that, the tasks included a variety of magical challenges, treasure hunts, hostage rescues, and fighting off magical beasts.
It was almost a given that Fleur will be competing for her school. As for Dumstrang, Harry guessed that Krum might be the Champion, but a couple of the Dumstrang boys seemed just as determined to claim the honor and Harry remembered them from the Tournament in Moscow.
As for the Hogwarts Champion, Harry knew that even most of the seventh-years did not have the drive and skill to compete in this tournament. Cedric Diggory, a sixth-year Seeker was a gifted student in many subjects. He was the epitome of a Hufflepuff, but would that be enough to be successful in this tournament?
Other than that, there was also Roger Davis from Ravenclaw, Cassius Warrington from Slytherin, and Angelina Johnson from Gryfindor that stood out as the most promising names. Of course, many of the seventh-years had entered their name as well, but Harry did not know of anyone remarkable. It would truly be up to the Goblet to decide then.
When it was about time to get to the Great Hall, Harry made a stop at his dorm and changed into a new uniform. His appearance should be on point tonight. He hid the Marauder's map and Cloak in his robes as well. Crouch and Moody would be in the same room tonight and Harry needed to keep an eye on both of them.
When he entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Harry took his seats next to Fleur, who gave him a radiant smile. She seemed very excited. The stab of guilt again prevented Harry's smile from fully reaching his eyes. Instead, he just gave Fleur a thumbs up and concentrated on his food.
Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Harry simply wanted the plates to clear and to get his announcement over with.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Karkaroff and Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting... A few people kept checking their watches…
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there," Fleur whispered in his ear, as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
"Go get them, firebird," Harry whispered and squeezed Fleur's hand underneath the table. Fleur's allure was running wild, but she pulled herself together, got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
When Fleur too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next… And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip, Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
Oh well, it did not really matter, Harry thought. Between himself, Fleur and Krum, Diggory was hopelessly outmatched. The table next to him seemed to think differently… Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table.
Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again. "Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down.
"Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it… Harry's name. Harry prepared himself to look as perplexed and shocked as possible and pulled up his Occlumency shields. He needed to remain calm now.
There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —
"Harry Potter."
Harry felt every eye in the entire hall on him and sighed. He put on his best perplexed or confused expressions and stared at Dumbledore and the familiar piece of parchment in his hands. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.
Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.
"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
"Go on," Terry whispered from across from him. Harry got to his feet, stood upright to his full height, and strode along the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. He imagined Sirius's expression and what his Godfather would think about this 'prank'. A chuckle almost slipped his lips, as he continued his way towards Dumbledore.
The whisperers around him grew louder and the first yells erupted through the Hall.
"He is not even 17, yet!" Someone yelled from the Gryffindor table.
"Cheater!" A seventh-year Hufflepuff yelled.
"You're a fraud, Potter!"
Harry ignored them all as he was finally right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him. "Well . . . through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.
Harry walked to the side chamber Dumbledore gestured to and entered the room. Krum, Diggory, and Fleur all stood around the fireplace. Harry avoided Fleur's confused expression and leaned against the wall, waiting for the inevitable.
Fleur slowly walked over to him:
"Harry, what's going on? What are you doing here?"
Harry tried to meet her gaze and whispered: "I'll explain later."
Just then Bagman entered the room, walked up to Harry, and looked like he wanted to grab his arm, but Harry was quicker. With a flick of his wrist, his wand was in his hand pointed at the face of the former Quidditch player:
"Please keep your hands to yourself, Bagman," Harry spoke calmly, but his eyes flashed an emerald green.
"Of course, Harry. My apologies it's just so extraordinary!" he muttered. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen . . . lady," he added, approaching the fire-side and addressing the other three.
"May I introduce — incredible though it may seem — the fourth Triwizard champion?"
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."
It was perhaps the first time Harry had heard her speaking English. Her accent was stronger than he had thought. He involuntarily chuckled, only making his situation worse.
Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. " 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."
"Well… it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage… It's down in the rules, you're obliged… Harry will just have to do the best he —"
At this moment the door opened again and Dumbledore stormed into the room, rushing towards Harry. Once again, his wand was in his hand within less than a second, keeping the Headmaster at bay:
"Please calm yourself, Headmaster," Harry said coldly, his wand still in his hand.
Dumbledore frowned:
"Harry, did you put your name into the Goblet?"
"No, Sir."
"Did you ask an older student to put your name in?"
"No, Sir"
"Well, of course, he is lying, Dumbledore! Hogwarts can't have two champions, it is extremely unfair." Karkaroff interfered.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Harry spoke very quietly and calmly, but everyone could hear him. It felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees.
"Well, considering your track record, Mr. Potter. I would not trust anything you say!" Karkaroff spit.
"Funny, that you mention a track record. Have you received any invitations to the funerals of your Death Eater buddies recently? Just give me a reason and I will put you six feet under like your former master and anyone else, who carries his mark." Harry hissed.
"Mr. Potter, you will not threaten the head of a foreign school!" McGonagall interfered. "Treat our guests with respect or you will receive detentions with me."
Harry looked from McGonagall back to Karkaroff. "There is no respect for Death Eaters... there is also no mercy," Harry added dangerously.
"I am coming for you!" He hissed in Parseltongue and enjoyed the scared expression on the man's face
"That is enough Mr. Potter. Whether you have entered yourself or not is irrelevant now. The question is how do we continue?" Dumbledore tried to break up the fight.
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half-hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance.
When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed.
"You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out — it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament —"
"— in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."
Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards —"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but... funny thing... I don't hear him saying a word..."
"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur, stamping her foot. " 'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e?" The look she gave him was colder than he could have ever imagined. The betrail and the hurt were very evident in her eyes.
"Fleur… please," Harry whispered desperately.
"I thought you were different, Harry Potter." With that Fleur took her leave and stomped out of the room. Followed by Madame Maxime, who shot Harry a disdainful look.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" Bagman said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie. "Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes… the first task… "
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin papery look about his wrinkled skin. Was it a side effect from using Polyjuice?
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important…
"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. "The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament.
The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
Krum just nodded, shot one last glare at Harry, and exited the chamber.
"Professor Karkaroff — Barty — a nightcap?" said Dumbledore. But none of them seemed to be in the mood to remain any longer.
"Very well," Dumbledore sighed.
"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them.
"I am sure Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
"Actually, I am down for a nightcap, Professor." Harry smiled.
"Follow me to my office then, Harry."
Harry could feel Cedric's stare in his back, but ignored the other boy and followed Dumbledore out of the chamber. The two wizards made their up to the headmaster's office and Harry took a seat as soon as Dumbledore sat down.
"How can I help you, Harry?"
"I would like to have the same rights as any other student that is of age. Including leaving for the weekends and an adjusted curfew, for example."
"And why should I grant that to a fourteen-year-old, or is it fifteen already? I can't tell." Dumbledore smiled.
So he knows about the time turner… how did he find out? Was it just my physical appearance?
"As you well know it's still just fourteen, Headmaster. However, magically that might have changed roughly an hour ago." Harry smiled.
"Well done, Harry. I am impressed. You entered into a binding magical contract with a powerful artifact, that only an adult should have been able to enter into. Therefore magic automatically emancipated you. Was that your sole reason for entering your name? Just to get some extra privileges around Hogwarts?"
"I did not enter my name myself, Headmaster, but I will certainly enjoy the benefits of the precarious situation, I have been thrown into. Tomorrow morning I will be leaving for Gringotts to confirm by Emancipation and have the trace removed from me. I will also visit the Potter family vaults."
"Your shields are powerful, Harry, but are you really naive enough to believe yourself capable of withstanding a full attack on your mind by me?" Dumbledore asked.
"Are you threatening me, Headmaster?" Harry replied coldly.
"No, I am simply stating the fact that you know more about how your name appeared in the Goblet than you let on. Your interaction with Ms. Delacour was all I needed to observe, to verify that."
"Fleur will take some time to calm down, but she will come around, I am certain of that."
"Very well, is there anything else, Harry?" Dumbledore asked his student.
Harry chuckled: "Usually it's me asking that question, Professor… But yes, there is one more thing. Diggory has been chosen by the Goblet as the Hogwarts Champion. I respect that. My name was submitted without the mention of a school, certainly not Hogwarts."
Dumbledore frowned. "But you are still a student at this school, Harry. A remarkable member of House Ravenclaw."
Harry laughed: "I think we both know that I am being banished from House Ravenclaw just as we speak. No Professor, I will represent myself in the tournament. Therefore, I will make an official inquiry to have a judge of my liking added to the existing panel, as well. My godfather will make a fine addition, don't you think?"
"It saddens me to not have you representing Hogwarts, but I see no fault in your logic. I will deliver your inquiry to Mr. Crouch. So... you will be representing House Potter?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
Harry laughed: "No, Professor, I will be representing a different House… much older, but I am sure you have heard of it. After all, our ancestors rest peacefully, side by side, in the very same graveyard in Godric's Hollow."
Dumbledore was at a loss for words. He must have understood the reference to the Peverell family then.
"Have a good night, Professor." Harry excused himself politely.
"Good night, my boy," Dumbledore watched as his student left his office. The boy had figured it out… much sooner than he had hoped. Now he could only pray that Harry would not repeat his mistakes.