- CHAPTER ELEVEN -

The best laid plans

During the breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning, students were still grumbling about how boring and disappointing the second task of the Triwizard Tournament had been for the spectators.

Neville, Ginny, and Dean, who sat with Harry and Hermione, were among the loudest complainants. Luna had also joined them at the Gryffindor table, but she remained silent as she was busy building a surprisingly detailed miniature model of Hogwarts out of scrambled eggs and bacon.

Harry shared many amused glances with his girlfriend while they silently ate their breakfast. He could see that she was just as amused by the many complaints about the Ministry's incompetence as him. Harry still couldn't fathom how the organisers could have come up with a task that took place out of sight of the spectators.

Eagerly, he awaited what the Daily Prophet would make of the event. The Prophet had resumed publishing in late January, once its printing press had been restored and its offices had been repaired after the mysterious attack in December. The female assailant had yet to be identified and was still at large. Unfortunately, the newspaper was still as trashy and useless as it had been before the attack. Or maybe it was slightly less so, thanks to Rita Skeeter's continued hospitalisation, but the articles could by no means be described as good, serious journalism.

Soon, the post owls flew into the Great Hall and delivered Neville's copy of the Prophet. The boy was visibly surprised when he read the headline but quickly handed the newspaper to Harry and Hermione on the other side of the table.

"Let's see what they wrote about the second task," Harry said, but then he laughed out loud when he saw the headline.

MINISTER FUDGE'S SECRET HEARTACHE

Shocking affair between Minister and his Undersecretary revealed during Tri-Wiz

A picture was plastered over almost the entire front page. It was the scene of Fudge and the toad-woman – apparently the Undersecretary, whatever that was – kissing each other in the water of the Black Lake.

Harry grimaced and pushed his breakfast plate away from him, having lost his appetite.

Trying to keep his eyes away from the picture, he looked over the newspaper again. On the bottom of the page was a short report on the second task of the tournament, that once more decried Hogwarts for allowing students to practise the Dark Arts. After the display of Crabbe, Harry couldn't really fault the newspaper for that.

Harry's attention was drawn back to his surroundings when Dean raised his voice.

"Harry, please put away the newspaper! People are trying to eat here!"

"Sorry," Harry chuckled. He folded the newspaper and returned it to Neville, who quickly put it in his bookbag.

"Sounds like Minister Fudge will be in trouble," Hermione said with a worried expression on her face. "Do you think he will be replaced?"

"Not quickly," Neville answered, "But I wouldn't bet on him being still in office by the end of the year."

"At least the Prophet has somewhat reigned in his fear-mongering against Muggles and Muggle-borns," Hermione said, "That would increase the chances of someone decent being elected as Interim Minister, right?"

Neville shrugged apologetically. "Maybe. But I fear the damage is already done. My grandma says that Malfoy is getting more and more support from the Neutrals in the Wizengamot lately."

"Ah, bloody hell," Harry muttered. "Well, at least Voldemort should no longer be a threat after yesterday."

He ignored the flinching of Neville, Dean, and Ginny as he said the name.

"Probably," Hermione replied, "I wonder if the Headmaster thinks so, too."

Harry agreed. "We should try to talk to him. Maybe make an appointment to talk about other stuff, too."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Good. But not now, classes are about to start. We have to leave."

"Oh, right," Harry said. Quickly, they rose from the bench and left the Great Hall, closely followed by their friends.

#

Harry thought it was a lucky coincidence when he and Hermione ran into Professor Dumbledore the next day. Though, knowing the Headmaster, maybe it actually wasn't much of a coincidence at all.

They were in the hospital wing, and Harry and Hermione had just been about to leave after their Potions lesson with Madam Pomfrey when Dumbledore opened the door from the other side and entered the infirmary.

"Ah, good afternoon, Harry, Miss Granger," Dumbledore greeted them. "I thought I might find you here."

"Hello, Professor, we were actually hoping to speak with you, too," Harry replied.

"How may I be of assistance?" the Headmaster asked amiably.

"After the task yesterday, do you have any news about Voldemort?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Alas, we know very little. But the Dark Mark on the arms of his servants is still getting darker, so we have to assume that Tom is not only alive but is getting stronger."

"Really?" Harry asked with a frown. "But he wasn't at the task. How could he not be affected?"

"I cannot say," Dumbledore said apologetically.

"Do we really know that the Dark Mark is a reliable indicator of Riddle's condition?" Hermione asked hopefully. "Do you know how it works, Sir? How would it affect the mark and his followers if he died? Maybe it's colouring is delayed, or something like that?"

"Well, that might be the case," Dumbledore admitted. "But I think it would be foolish to cling to such hopes. I don't know of the precise nature of the mark, but I think his followers would feel it if Tom died. My spy in his ranks reported a brief, intense pain originating from the mark when Riddle was defeated on the night he attacked your parents, Harry. He didn't die then, but I expect something similar to happen in that instance."

"So your spy would feel some pain on his arm if Riddle died, and he hasn't reported such a thing?" Harry asked.

"Precisely," Dumbledore answered, "Tom's death might even affect his former servants in other ways that I'm not sure of. Probably more so if Tom didn't die suddenly but slowly from having his magic stripped, which might have been the most probable outcome of breaching the Goblet's contract. It is likely that the Death Eaters would at least share the pain he would feel, or even be more seriously affected. I know for a fact that they could tell from their mark whenever Tom was in pain or especially angry. There was never a time delay, so such a thing seems unlikely, Miss Granger."

"All right," Harry conceded grudgingly, "so we'll just continue to stay vigilant."

"Unfortunately, that is the best we can do for now," the Headmaster confirmed.

"While we're speaking of vigilance, Sir," Hermione added, "are you going to do anything about Crabbe?"

Harry saw how Dumbledore's jaw clenched slightly at the question.

"The actions of Mr Crabbe are indeed very worrisome," the Headmaster replied. "Ever since the first task of the tournament, I have tasked Professor Moody to keep a close watch on the boy. Professor Moody has investigated the boy thoroughly, so at least we can rule out that something even more nefarious is going on. But until now, Mr Crabbe has broken no laws and no school rules, so I'm unable to penalise him in any way. However, as soon as he steps even the tiniest bit out of line, I will see to it that Mr Crabbe will be expelled."

"That's..." Harry sighed. "I get it, but I don't like it. I don't want him around Hermione or me."

"I understand," Dumbledore said. "But as there is nought to be done about it right now, let's maybe talk about more pleasant things. How is your Occlumency training coming along?"

"We're doing fine, Sir," Hermione answered, "At least we think so."

"Any questions so far?" the Headmaster asked.

"Uhm, no, I don't think so. We should be ready for our talk by the end of the term," Harry replied.

Dumbledore smiled at both of them and nodded. "Excellent. And do you know where you will spend your summer, Harry?"

"With Hermione and her parents," Harry answered, his mood perking up immediately. He shared a look with Hermione, who smiled back at him. That was something they were both really looking forward to.

"Ah, of course," Dumbledore said brightly, "I will have to arrange for appropriate security measures, of course. Maybe I could join you on the day you return home, Miss Granger, and set up some wards at your residency?"

"Uhm," Hermione began hesitantly, "Could you maybe do it sooner, Headmaster? So that my parents are protected already? With the supremacists getting bolder, and me outperforming their kids at every turn at school, my family might already be in danger."

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly. "Oh... Yes, quite right, Miss Granger. That might be for the best. Could you write to your parents and ask them whether it would be agreeable to them if I visited them this Sunday in the early evening?"

"Yes, thank you, Sir," Hermione replied. "And, maybe... well, maybe it would be for the best not to talk about Harry with them. You see, I haven't quite gotten around to telling them that Harry and I are a couple yet, and..."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at her, giving her an amused look.

"They won't mind," Hermione added quickly. "I'm... just waiting for the right moment. And it would be better if they think the protection you're putting up is because of me, and not because of Harry. If they think I was in danger because of Harry... well, they might not like that very much. They won't even like it that I might be in danger at all because of the magical world... but it should be all right if they think that I'm safe at Hogwarts and at home... Well, those dangers here at school are probably another topic best to avoid in your conversations, Sir, if you could do that, maybe..."

Dumbledore shook his head slightly, but he seemed to be more amused than anything else. "So I suppose I also should not tell your parents that you're participating in the Triwizard Tournament, Miss Granger?"

"Uhm, well..." Hermione answered with a downcast look, "I haven't quite gotten around to telling them that, either."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, then please let your parents know that I would like to set up some wards at your home as soon as possible, Miss Granger. When I see your parents, I will confirm that these wards a mere precautionary measure to protect you from criminals, and that all wizarding families have similar wards in place already."

"Thank you, Sir," Hermione answered, visibly relieved.

"But I think you should aim to be more honest with your parents in the future," Dumbledore added with a stern look, "But I'll leave that conversation with your parents to you, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Hermione answered. Harry wondered if the Professor had also noted that Hermione hadn't actually agreed with him.

"Well," Dumbledore said after a pause. "I'm glad that you will have a good summer despite Sirius still being unavailable, Harry."

"And why is that, by the way?" interjected Hermione, "Couldn't you just push for him to get a trial?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I could get him a trial, but not the votes in the Wizengamot to declare him innocent."

"What?" Harry protested. "But he could take Veritaserum and prove that he's innocent!"

"Even if Veritaserum was allowed, which it isn't, the Wizengamot does care much less about actual evidence than one would like," Dumbledore explained. "It's foremost a political body and behaves as such. And in the case of Sirius, the Progressive faction has little reason to trust him, the Dark faction will follow Lucius Malfoy, who will vote for a conviction just so that his wife can inherit the Black estate, and half the Neutrals are in Malfoy's pocket. No, a trial would only cause Sirius to end up back in Azkaban."

"I can't believe it!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's just- why- Argh! Stupid wizards!"

Harry was equally angry, but Dumbledore just shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

"Sirius is safe and sound, and recovering nicely from his time in Azkaban," the Headmaster said, "As far as I know, he is still somewhere on an island in the Caribbean. It's the best we can do for now."

Harry nodded reluctantly and reached for Hermione's hand to give her a comforting squeeze.

Hermione, however, frowned at the Headmaster's answer. "For now?" she repeated. "Do you think this will change anytime soon, Headmaster?"

"No," Dumbledore admitted with a regretful expression on his face, "No, I don't. Quite to the contrary, actually. Things will probably get worse before they get better."

"You think that Malfoy will become Minister?" Harry asked. That didn't sound good.

"Fudge will almost certainly lose his job," Dumbledore replied. "And then, it will be difficult to stop the supremacists from electing the Interim Minister. But I promise that I will do my best to prevent it. And Hogwarts is still outside of Ministry control, so even if Malfoy becomes Interim Minister, we should be able to stall him long enough until the next public election is held. He won't be able to do too much damage."

Harry hoped that Dumbledore wasn't too optimistic there, but he also couldn't see the point in worrying himself sick.

"All right, thank you for the talk, Professor," he said and stepped towards the door.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione concurred, "Good day, Headmaster."

Dumbledore gave them a nod, and Harry and Hermione left the hospital wing to return to the Gryffindor common room. The Headmaster had given them a lot to think about.

#

In the following weeks and months, Dumbledore's prediction proved accurate. The criticism of Minister Fudge became more and more vociferous, mostly due to the highly critical reporting of the Daily Prophet. First, the newspaper published a series of articles on the Minister's Undersecretary that revealed that the woman was almost as cruel as she was incompetent and that offered many salacious speculations on how she had gotten her position in the first place. Next, the Prophet reported extensively on the Minister's divorce proceedings and rehashed the Minister's fights with Barty Crouch. And finally, the newspaper disclosed how blunders of the Minister during meetings with foreign dignitaries had caused several diplomatic incidents. When one such blunder almost caused Magical Uganda to declare war on Britain, it was the final nail in the coffin of the Minister's political career.

At the monthly sitting of the Wizengamot in May, the Wizengamot voted almost unanimously to remove Minister Fudge from office. The election of the Interim Minister by the Wizengamot was scheduled to take place at the next sitting on the twenty-fourth of June, which was also the date of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. The vote would be between the nominee of the Progressive faction, Head of the DMLE Amelia Bones, and Lucius Malfoy.

Harry, Hermione, and their friends followed the happenings with uneasiness. All their schoolmates that were well-traversed with wizarding politics, Neville amongst them, agreed that the election would be extremely close.

However, the couple soon had other things to worry about. The end-of-term exams were approaching, and so was the final task of the tournament.

Four weeks before the third task was about to take place, Harry accompanied Hermione, Fred, and George to a meeting with the other champions and Ludo Bagman at the Quidditch stadium in the early afternoon.

As they approached the pitch, they saw that hedges had been planted on the formerly well-kept lawn in the centre of the arena. The hedgerows twisted and crisscrossed in every direction over the entire area of the pitch.

Both Harry and the twins were outraged about what had been done to the Quidditch pitch, much to Hermione's amusement.

Bagman cheerfully greeted the champions as they arrived one after another. Once all participants except Fudge were present, Bagman began to explain the task.

"You can probably see that we're building a maze," Bagman said happily to the students that had gathered in front of him, with Harry and Hermione staying at the back of the group.

Bagman gestured towards the hedges. "Growing nicely, aren't they? In a month, they'll be twenty feet high!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. Next to him, Hermione gave a small snort that she quickly covered up with a fake cough. She must have had the same thought as him.

Harry leaned towards his girlfriend. "Should we tell him that with all the action taking place within the tall hedges, the audience in the stands won't be able to see anything, again?" he whispered for only her to hear, ignoring Bagman's ongoing explanations.

Hermione shook her head, a smirk on her lips. "Hm... Nah... That's really not our job, is it?"

A few minutes later, Bagman had finished his speech, and he concluded the meeting.

The champions dispersed soon after that. When Fred and George also retreated back to the castle, whispering to each other, Harry and Hermione were the only ones left standing on the pitch.

"So..." Harry began, "Any ideas?"

"Besides the obvious Plan A, you mean?" Hermione replied with a smirk.

Harry chuckled. "Yes, besides the obvious Plan A."

"As they are about to repeat the mistake with the spectators, I don't see how Plan A could not work," Hermione said with amusement.

"Still, better be prepared, right?" Harry pointed out.

"Yes..." Hermione agreed. "I could do what had been our idea for the first task and summon your Invisibility Cloak. I would probably be able to pass most obstacles and creatures if I'm invisible."

"Good, that's probably something that you should do whatever additional plan we might make," Harry agreed. He snickered. "Also, it would give the audience even less to see. For that alone, it's worth it."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I could try to make a Portkey to the centre of the maze," she then pondered. "I'd have to look it up. Within the tournament, it probably wouldn't be illegal. But it's also supposed to be extremely difficult."

"All right, let's keep in the back of our minds," Harry said. "Could you maybe use fire on the hedges? Burn the hedges down and walk straight to the centre?"

Hermione laughed out loud. "You want me to go all Wicked Witch on the tournament? Laughing evilly while I burn down the maze?"

"Pah!" Harry said dismissively. "Do you want to win or not?"

"Fire or blasting curses might work," Hermione admitted. "But the hedges might also be protected against fire."

"Against fire or against magic?" Harry asked. "If the maze is only protected against magical fire, maybe you could use Muggle means, again."

"Like what?"

Harry smirked. "A flamethrower?"

"A flamethrower?" Hermione repeated incredulously.

"Ask your parents to send you one for an Ancient Runes project?" Harry asked. He laughed, amused by Hermione's exasperated expression. "I'm just kidding!"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"But... but maybe you could just use gasoline or something to burn down the hedges?" Harry suggested.

"The hedges and everything in it, you mean? And where would I even get that much gasoline? I can just imagine the letter to my parents: 'Hi, Mum and Dad, could you please send me five-hundred gallons of gasoline for an Ancient Runes project?' I'm sure they'd be delighted! And I guess Hedwig will deliver it to me?"

"Okay, okay, you've made your point!" Harry admitted. "No need to get sarcastic. I thought we're just throwing back and forth some ideas."

"Stupid ideas, you mea-" Hermione began before her expression suddenly turned regretful. "I'm sorry. You're right. We're just brainstorming."

"It's all right," Harry answered with a smile and gave his girlfriend a peck on her lips. "It was a stupid idea."

There was a small pause during which they were both trying to come up with other solutions.

Suddenly, Harry's eyes widened. "Okay, I have another idea!" he exclaimed. "Why even go through the maze at all? You could just fly over it! Summon my Firebolt!"

Hermione gasped. "Oh... that... that's so easy and obvious that it just has to work! Brilliant, Harry!"

"I'll have to teach you how to fly my broom, of course," Harry added.

Hermione laughed. "Oh, I see, you just suggested that because you want me to finally learn how to fly properly."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Come on, it won't be so bad!" he pleaded.

"Fine," Hermione replied. "So, I'll learn fire and blasting hexes to obliterate the hedges, and you'll teach me how to fly your Firebolt so that I can summon it and fly over the maze."

"Sounds like we have a good Plan A, B, C, and D," Harry concluded.

"Right," Hermione agreed. "I'll have to read up on some of those charms and train flying, but we have plenty of time."

With the plan made, they left the Quidditch pitch and started to walk back towards the castle.

"Hey, let's visit Hagrid for a bit," Harry suggested when they passed Hagrid's hut.

Hermione agreed and they approached the hut. Harry knocked at the door, that was opened by Hagrid a few moments later.

"Hi Hagrid!" both teens greeted the big guy simultaneously.

Hagrid looked at them and sighed. "The final task is gettin' through a maze, but yeh know that already, don't yeh? There'll be some traps and all kind of creatures in it, but nothin' ter worry about. Boggards, Blast-ended Skrewts, an Acrumantula, a Sphinx – that one I'm lookin' forward to talkin' with! The cup will be in the middle of the maze. I don' know more than that. Now off with yeh ter the library, good luck!"

"Oh, wow, thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, taken aback a bit. "But actually, we already have a plan. We're really just here to meet up and have a cup of tea."

"Ah, well, why didn't yeh say so? Come on in, then," Hagrid replied with a visibly brightened mood and stepped aside from the door to allow them entry.

For the remaining afternoon, Hagrid entertained Harry and Hermine with tales on the various creatures that would be placed in the maze. He apparently saw no problem with that after they had assured him that they weren't visiting him to gain information on the third task.

As such, it proved to be an enjoyable afternoon for Harry and Hermione. Still, Harry couldn't help but wonder why the Ministry was even putting up the effort of shipping in various exotic creatures. After all, the spectators would once more be unable to observe the actions of the champions, anyway, due to the hedges blocking the view. Provided, that was, that anything would be happening within the maze in the first place.

#

Harry and Hermione had their first flying session the next day. They started with Hermione accompanying Harry on his broom while he flew very low and very slowly. By the end of the week, Hermione no longer screamed in fear whenever they were flying higher than a few yards.

She still hadn't quite gotten over her fear of heights, but they were making progress. And luckily, she would only have to fly over the twenty-foot-high hedges for the task, so Harry was confident that she would manage. He planned to let Hermione steer the broom the next week, and have her fly alone the week after that.

As they were also busy with training incendiary and blasting curses and had to revise for their exams, the next weeks flew by very quickly.

One week before the task, Harry and Hermione returned from another of their evening flying lessons – Hermione was flying by herself by now – when they noticed a large pedestal at one side of the entrance hall. On it, the Triwizard Cup was displayed for the school to see before it would be moved into the maze. As it was almost curfew, the entrance hall was empty apart from them.

"Oh, look!" Harry said and walked towards the cup. "They finally put it up. Soon, you'll be holding that."

"Well, I definitely hope so," Hermione agreed as they approached the pedestal. She studied the cup closely, her brows furrowed in concentration.

"Oh, I have no doubts that you'll win. By the way, have you decided yet what you'll do with the prize money?" Harry asked his girlfriend.

"Hmm, not yet," Hermione answered, turning her attention back to him. "I guess I'll just save it. It might come in handy once I finish my education. But while a thousand Galleons is a lot of money for us, it's not really that much money for adults."

Harry was just about to answer when a voice called out behind them.

"Hi, Harry, Hermione!"

Harry and Hermione turned around and saw Fred and George approaching them.

"Admiring the Triwizard Cup?" Fred asked. "We heard that is was moved here and decided to investigate."

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "We were talking about what Mione will do once she holds it in her hands. I just asked her what she'll do with the prize money."

He lowered his voice and whispered to the twins, loud enough for Hermione to overhear, "She says she's gonna save it, but I'll take a huge gamble and bet that more than half of the money will be spent on books. Any takers?"

The twins chuckled in response while Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"That's a sucker bet, Harry," George said.

"That's definitely what- Oi! Wait! Who's to say she's gonna win? One of us will win, of course!" Fred protested.

"Right," George concurred, but he didn't sound quite as convinced as his brother.

"Well, you have to admit that she has the best chance at winning, starting ahead of everyone else," Harry pointed out.

Fred sighed dramatically. "Yeah, I guess. But one can always hope, right? It would be nice to have a thousand Galleons."

George shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we'll just have to look elsewhere."

Harry raised an eyebrow at them. "Look elsewhere? I hope you're not about to do something stupid?"

"No, no," George replied quickly, "We kinda have the money already. It's owed to us, at least. But Bagman won't pay."

"Bagman?" Hermione wondered, and Harry was equally puzzled.

"Remember our bet with him at the Quidditch World Cup?" George asked. "We won, over a thousand Galleons, but Bagman paid us with Leprechaun gold. It vanished a few hours later!"

"And it wasn't an honest mistake?" Hermione asked.

"No," Fred answered bitterly, "We informed him of it, but he refuses to pay us!"

"Oh... that's..." Hermione muttered.

George continued, "We tried to blackmail him, but-"

"Blackmail him?" Hermione repeated.

"Well, yeah..." George shrugged. Both twins were looking slightly embarrassed.

"With what?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yeah... that's the thing," Fred replied. "We tried to blackmail him, but then we noticed that we don't really have anything we could blackmail him with. We don't have any evidence that we could show the Aurors, and they would never go after a Department Head on our word alone. And the Daily Prophet would never listen to us, either."

"Why don't you have any evidence?" Hermione asked. "You have witnesses that saw you making the bet, including the two of us."

"Well, yeah, but we signed a receipt stating that we received the gold," George explained.

"Oh..." Harry said, unable to come up with helpful ideas. "What would you have done with that kind of money, anyway?" he asked instead.

"Those Galleons would have really helped us with setting up our own joke shop," George answered.

"So you're really serious about that?" Hermione asked.

"Of course! It's the only thing in our lives we've ever been serious about," Fred replied.

"Yes, it's been our dream since we've been five years old," George added with a wistful look.

"Well," Harry began hesitantly, an idea starting to take form in his mind. "If it doesn't work out with Bagman, I think I know someone who might be able to fund you."

"Really?" Fred asked sceptically. "Who would support someone like us?"

Harry smiled brightly. "Padfoot."

Both twins' jaws dropped while Hermione shot Harry a surprised look.

"No way!" George exclaimed. "You know him!? Who is it?"

Harry didn't respond immediately. He was relieved that the twins didn't know about Sirius. Despite their broken friendship with Ron, at least he could still count on his former friend to keep silent about their shared adventures.

Finally, Harry answered, "I really shouldn't say for now. He's in a bit of trouble with the authorities at the moment. Through no fault of his own, mind you. Once that gets cleared up, I'm pretty sure he'll be happy to help you."

"Oh, all right," Fred said, not quite able to hide the disappointment. "Is there really no way that we could meet him?"

"You know what, I'll ask him. Maybe during the summer hols. Or at least, I can relay some messages. I think he would be happy to talk to you."

"Thanks, Harry, you won't regret it!" Fred replied enthusiastically.

"Yeah, if that works out, you'll always get a huge discount on our products. Both of you!" George added.

"What are you going to sell, anyway?" Harry asked. "I suppose that Ton-Tongue Toffees and Canary Creams alone won't be enough."

"Oh, we have much, much more planned. But we need more money to really get started with developing and testing," Fred replied.

"In the end, we'll sell both our own inventions and the stuff that you might find at Zonko's in Hogsmeade," George added. "We'll have prank items, sweets, love potions, games, you know, the usual... maybe even expand into other areas..."

Harry frowned at the casual mention of love potions, and he noticed that Hermione's eyes widened slightly, too, before she quickly schooled her features.

Before he could think of a good reply, Hermione spoke with forced calmness, "That's a nice vision you have. Your own shop with your own inventions to make people laugh. I'm sure that you will be very successful. Just a small word of caution, if I may?"

"Sure," Fred said, and George nodded, both clearly unaware of the danger they were in.

Hermione's eyes narrowed, and with a sudden motion, her wand was in her hand, pointing at the two shocked redheads.

"If you ever attempt to sell date rape drugs such as love potions, if you as much as even mention it ever again, I'll transfigure you into Flobberworms and let Snape use you as potion ingredients," Hermione hissed. "Have I made myself abundantly clear?"

Fred and George nodded frantically.

"Crystal!" George blurted out with wide eyes. "No lov- no you-know-what's, gotcha!"

Hermione continued glaring at them. "Good. Now get out of my sight!"

The twins hastily scrambled away, and Hermione turned towards Harry with a worried look, deflating slightly. "Was that too much?"

"No, Mione," Harry replied with a shake of his head. "I completely agree. I don't get how the wizarding world can be so blasé about stuff like this."

He sighed. "It's sad to see that even our friends have their heads up their own arses on these matters."

Hermione nodded, still looking rather annoyed.

"Well, let's go, before it's past curfew," Harry suggested and offered his arm to Hermione. Together, they left the entrance hall and made their way back towards the Gryffindor tower.

They walked in silence for a while, before Harry stated, "I'll still help them to get in contact with Sirius. I think we've seen that it would be good if they had some adult supervision."

Hermione chuckled and raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Sirius? An adult?"

Harry laughed. "Maybe not. But I guess if we involve Padfoot, Moony might also want to join the team."

"Professor Lupin? That's actually a good idea!" Hermione agreed.

"He'd be more responsible," Harry said. "And he might be looking for a job, anyway. It's hard for him with his affliction."

Hermione nodded. "Now we only have to get Sirius cleared."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, that won't be easy."

"Let's think about it some more during the summer hols. One thing at a time," Hermione said. "Right now, we have to focus on our exams and the third task. I'm prepared for the task, so we should revise some more for the exams. This evening, we should read up on History, I think. I have lent out a fascinating book on the Goblin Rebellion of 1612. It details how Nagnok the Ugly..."

Harry rolled his eyes as he walked on alongside Hermione. Not for the first time he wished that Hermione had just opted out of taking the exams, as it would have been her right as Triwizard champion. He was very much looking forward to the end of next week when both the exams and the tournament would be over.

#

In the evening on the same day, Barty Crouch Jr carefully sneaked through the abandoned parts of the Hogwarts dungeons while polyjuiced as Alastor Moody. Finally, after taking many turns in the narrow, cobweb-covered passages, he arrived at the entrance of a large arched cellar.

A thick layer of privacy wards lay upon the entrance and Barty shivered as felt the magic sweep over him when he stepped through the barrier. The Dark Lord was already awaiting him in the dark room.

"You're late," Riddle hissed angrily.

Barty gulped fearfully. "Please forgive me, my Lord."

"Well, do you have anything to report?" Riddle asked.

"My Lord, I'm afraid that the Headmaster is guarding himself and his office very carefully. Even with the map we got from Potter, I don't see a way for us to catch him unaware. We won't be able to take him out without a fight."

Riddle gave an angry hiss in response. "I'm growing tired of this body. Only once I'm restored I'll be powerful enough to defeat the old fool... Fine. This is not unexpected. We will look for a substitute, then."

"Should we use one of the traitors? Lucius maybe?" Barty suggested gleefully.

"It would be well deserved," Riddle agreed. "But I know that once I announce my return, they will all come crawling back, begging for mercy. I will make them pay for their insolence, of course, but unfortunately, they are more useful to me alive than dead."

"Why not simply take Alastor Moody's blood, then?" Barty asked.

Riddle sighed. "You're forgetting that the crazy old man was hit with so many dark curses over the years that some are still affecting him even now. Using his blood might introduce a dangerous contamination."

"Ah. How about the Mudblood girl that has the impudence to show up real wizards in the tournament?" Barty suggested instead.

"Yes, I was thinking about choosing her," the Dark Lord replied slowly, "But isn't Potter fond of her? I wouldn't want to damage my alliance with the boy. He will be quite useful to me in the future."

"He's only toying with the naive girl to maintain his cover," Barty said dismissively and smirked. "And I guess she's pretty enough to offer him some entertainment... But the boy is dedicated to our cause. If he wasn't, he would have exposed us to Dumbledore a long time ago."

"You are right," Riddle agreed. "He has proven his worth to our cause by keeping our secrets and providing us with the incredible map of the castle. Very well, we shall take the girl, then."

"Potter's Occlumency should be sufficient to involve him by now. He would probably be eager to help us if we asked," Barty pointed out.

Riddle nodded. "That would make things easier. He could deliver the Mudblood right to us."

"Yes, my Lord. Shall I speak to the boy?"

Riddle shook his head. "Not yet. We will wait to see how the girl fares in the tournament. If she gets hurt or killed in the task, we would be tipping our hand for nought if we informed the boy now. There will be enough time for the boy to act once the tournament has ended."

"Yes, my Lord," Barty replied. "When shall the ritual take place?"

"As soon as possible. On the evening after third task," the Dark Lord decided. "The Headmaster will be at the Wizengamot sitting then, so he won't monitor the wards of the school. This will allow us to perform the ritual in the castle without having to worry about being detected."

"Yes, my Lord," Barty replied enthusiastically, "Your brilliance is unmatched! Soon, the world will tremble before you once more!"

Riddle nodded, a cold smirk appearing on his lips. "It will. Now go and prepare everything!"

"As you command, my Lord," Barty said, bowed before his Lord and quickly left the room.