Many thanks to lubabpaul for the beta-ing!

TRIWIZARD III

1995-24 June

In the first two weeks of June, I sat my NEWTs. I was probably the first in Hogwarts history to gain twelve of them in a single sitting. The results would be released on the 30th of June, not that I did actually cared. I registered myself as a fox Animagus with the ICW and showed off my form at the transfiguration practical.

We were once again in the Champion's tent and the judges were giving us instructions for the third and last task. We would have a mirror charmed to stay suspended at two meters and half of the height behind our backs, linked to a much bigger one. This would allow the crowd to see in third person the events in the maze.

There were no rules, in theory, we could kill each other without being reprimanded. I was considering if winning the Triwizard was worthy a face to face against Pettigrew.

But it was such a hassle. I did more than enough. I thought with a secret grin, recalling that I had gifted two seats to Amelia Bones, suggesting her to bring along the Head of the Unspeakables. I threw into the anonymous invite something about prophecy in a very mysterious way just to sweeten the deal.

If someone tried to drag me to a competition of children while I was researching something I would never attend. Unless there was a more interesting game afoot. I had called in another rendering team from Gringotts, same old deal, I hoped to see a few more creatures. Wand cores aren't collecting themselves after all.

And I was still irked that I couldn't access the Chamber of Secrets. What marvel could I craft with a basilisk heartstring core?

One problem at a time. I chastised myself.

Maybe I should warn Potter? But the tense feeling of Dumbledore's magic made me wary. And I remembered that Rowling wrote about a 'flash of triumph' in the headmaster's eyes. I spoke with my familiar, who was uncharacteristically quiet: "Any suggestions?".

She croaked, flapped her wings before hopping onto my outstretched arm:

"With my not-eye I see,

the rising star, the falling tree,

the trickster that walks unseen.

Slayer of kin and a soul to bind,

with stolen skin and twisted mind,

Master and slave are one of a kind.

Not-whole rises from the ashes,

the cut-arm goes in a blaze of fire.

The western sun dies in flashes,

stormy days come in, looking for a Sire."

Everyone in the tent turned silent and stared.

Without the knowledge of the future I held, that rhyme didn't hold any meaning, perhaps Krum would get burned? Dumbledore found the words very interesting, I'm sure.

Lucky me, there were a bunch of laws that protected both seers and familiars, so nobody could snatch Raven away. And I killed a dragon without preparation, so people tended to be very cautious around me.

I snorted, causing more than one raised eyebrow. "Any comprehensible advice? Or something someone can make heads or tails of?" I reiterated.

"On the fly!" quoth the raven, and I sent her to play riddles with Luna.

After a while, we were all at the opening in the hedge. First went Fleur, running lightly on the ground. Potter started with a mad dash. I went in skipping. I saw Krum watching the prosthetic arm he would need to summon and attach once he could start.

We could begin with only our wands after all, otherwise, I would have dressed in dragon skin.

I unravelled this trap, squashed that acromantula, shaped the ground into a bridge to overcome a cliff. Frankly, it was a bit boring.

Then I remembered there was a sphinx.

I turned into the fox, trying to use my superior nose to understand where it was without success, before remembering that I had a wand that could find stuff I didn't personally know.

The point-me is such a useful spell.

"Point me sphinx."

My wand spun, obviously not managing to direct me towards my objective. I sighed, guessing that if it would have worked, then the mad search for Voldemort' Horcruxes would have lastes a lot less.

So I fell into myself and sweeped my senses through the air, picking up and discarding information faster than my conscious mind could properly register: magic was intent. I knew that there was a sphinx ready to be challenged, I knew that it had been placed in the maze on that exact purpose, and I knew that there was some kind of magic around its area in order to keep the hedges from cutting the magical beast completely off from the competitors.

After a while, I picked up a feeling of gravity towards my left, subtle but undeniable, it was keeping an area of the maze from changing: following that feeling, magic itself started guiding me through the hedges. Hedges that I burned down with a cursed flame that was not Fiendfyre, but very close to it.

Along the way, an imperioused Krum threw a killing curse at me. Since I was very kind, ended up with broken humerus, a melted lump instead of his new shiny arm, and buried into the ground with only his nose out to breath.

I turned my head to investigate the mirror floating behind me. "Perhaps you should send someone?" I asked.

I somehow managed to hear the Durmstrang indignation from where I was.

I soon found the sphinx.

A giant body of a lion and the head of a woman. Along with several tons of magic resistant muscle and a human brain.

What a terrifying combination.

And I recognized the weight of a Legilimency probe. I whistled as an answer.

She repeated to me her instructions, but then I thought: When such an opportunity would appear again?

"Let's have a riddle contest instead." I challenged her.

"I have been tasked with protecting this path." she answered.

"It's a good thing that I don't really care about it then. Let's play turns, shall we? You ask your riddle, if I get it right, I ask for something it's in your power to give without feeling pain.

It could be a question about you or your magic, or a tuft from your tail.

Then I ask my riddle, if you get it right, you can throw at me the next one. If you fail, I get to ask something else, and then it's your turn again."

"And if you fail?" she asked.

"Then we battle." I smiled; I was actually eager to enter this contest.

I was even glad for all the training Raven gave me.

"Agreed" rumbled the beast, she was already tasting the fun, if of the riddle contest or the promised fight I couldn't tell. But I felt the same.

I twirled my wand, raising a low wall from the ground.

I sat and listened to the first riddle, that sadly was the same Rowling used.

"First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies?

Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of the end?

And finally give me the sound often heard,

During the search for a hard-to-find word.

Now string them together and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?".

"A spider." I answered, after a second.

"I'd like a tuft of hair from your tail."

At some point I would obviously fail, so it was a wise move to obtain 'rightfully won' parts as soon as possible.

It would be interesting comparing the result of a wand crafted with something willingly given, won, or harvested from a dead creature.

The sphinx kept a blank face and offered me her tail, so I could take what was mine.

It was then my turn.

"I'm best when it is hot outside.

You just might find me on your next ride. If you wear me, you have no pride.

What am I?"

While she was thinking about it, I started charming the clearing to hell and back, for the unavoidable battle that I was already tasting in the air.

"A cone."

Damn the sphinx is good.

"Right in one, your turn."

"If you look at me, I'm already done,

I always make two out of one.

What am I?"

I took my time, letting my magic settling in the clearing before thinking about it.

It took me 10minutes to reach a conclusion I was sure of.

"A mirror."

I was right. "I'd like a single hair from your head." she allowed me to pluck it with a blank face.

I don't know how long we went on, I started asking about her species and how her Legilimency worked.

It turns out male sphinxes do exist, but their magic is far weaker and their minds brittle. (Simply because they couldn't solve riddles I think.)

She wasn't aware of her legilimency, it was a part of her in the same way her tail belonged to her body.

When Harry Potter stumbled into the clearing, I was moved to pity and healed him. The shooed him away, I had a riddle to answer.

"I am something humans love or hate.

I change their appearances and thoughts.

If a person is careful, I will grow for a longer time.

I fool some and take away others.

To some, I am a mystery, to others a weight.

Some try to hide me, but I will show.

No matter how they battle me I will never go down.

From beginning to end I don't leave them.

What am I?"

"Age?" I answered. The sphinx grumbled.

I won again.

I was exhilarated.

And I finished my preparations. Over my regular clothes, I now had an armour made of thin plaques of stone.

I adopted Madara's armour design, only in gray.

The stone was charmed with feathers, unbreakable and cushioning charms on both sides. Because only charming something unbreakable means it just hits you, it doesn't shield you.

My helmet resembled a raven's head, and for the fun of it, spirited a mane of black feathers.

I was so glad there were so many pebbles around, transmuting them together required a light touch, but I had all the time I needed.

I was etching the last set of runes on the transmuted stone gladius I would hold with my right hand. This particular array would add a 'blood eating' component to my alchemical construct.

I set the hedges around the clearing on fire.

Now, unbreakable meant that the armour would hold for a while, the sphinx attacks would wear them down because as a magical creature, her soul-voice travelled along her physical movements.

Her will to destroy me would clash against the stone's will I imbued it with to 'not break'.

So 'not getting hit' was a safe policy, even with my little insurance.

I charmed the helmet so it would be transparent only on my side.

I didn't forget about the mirror behind me, but I really didn't care of anyone's opinion but Flitwick's, Luna's... and maybe Fleur once she saw the recordings.

I donned my helmet and rose from my seated position, checking myself over for the last time.

Wand in my left, gladius in my right, I was probably scary.

The sphinx was waiting for my request with a blank face.

"I would like to begin that battle, if you don't mind." I spoke.

The actually scary being answered, rising on her paws.

"I don't."

And she attacked.

Now, it may be obvious, but when a three meters high, seven meters long (without the tail), giant lion with a woman's head decides to attack you, it's bloody fast.

With the dragon I had time to prepare, I played on the stupidity of the reptile and used his fire as a heat bank.

I could alchemically redirect kinetic energy, but not instantaneously.

Meaning that I could slow down a flying boulder with enough time.

If one of the paws hit me, I would be flung through the maze-like a cannonball.

Her reach was superior, so I stayed very close.

The charmed ground warned me when she lifted or dropped a paw, I rose or downed a section of the clearing under one of her paws keeping her off balance.

I silenced myself and threw around thunderclaps to make sure she couldn't hear me.

I bended [bent/warped] light [around me] and spanned [summoned/created?] incorporeal illusions. Of me, of a lion, of a tree, of a fox, of a samurai of old.

I kept turning invisible and turning visible under the shape of one of the illusions around.

Lightning stung the sphinx skin and flashes blinded her for a split of a second.

I started conjuring.

Goshawks were flying like leaves into a whirlwind to rip her eyes off [out].

Alligators appeared out of nowhere to bite her calves.

Snakes tried to either lunge to bite her or slither their way to her neck trying to strangle the mighty beast.

It was madness.

And I, I was right in the thick of it, spinning stabbing, slashing.

For a moment I had two right arms, in the next I disappeared in a murder of crows.

Stone spears rose from the ground, ice arrows fell from the sky.

Three minutes into the battle, my brain was about to melt.

I noticed that I lost the silencing charm only because I heard myself laughing.

My wand was more than a simple blur.

Twitches of my fingers on the wood directed the flow of illusions, the inclination of my wrist commanded the conjured animals. The movements of my arm manipulated the elements and converted my kinetic energy to change my momentum into something without a pattern.

The sphinx did not have anything so flashy. She stomped, clawed, and bit.

Her tail batted and swept both the ground and the air, and when we crossed eyes her legilimency felt like a shard of glass pounding into my head.

She was everywhere.

Oh, I managed to wound her, but only scratches or puncture wounds in non-lethal points across the body.

I took the fire from the edges.

I fed it with the violent filled happiness and wrathful commitment of my determination.

I did not want to use Fiendfyre, it would spoil the prey.

I threw a two meters wide ball of fire at her face, yanking down the ground under her front left paw. She stumbled.

I was under her neck.

I stabbed my stone sword into it up to the hilt, then slashed her throat open. While she was falling forward, with a last lightning-fast movement she hit me with her right paw. I felt my right arm being crushed, and my body flying across the clearing. Thank god for the numbing charms.

I couldn't faint yet.

All my charms and transfigurations unravelled when I directed my will, but before that, a crocodile let me on his back and brought me to the dead sphinx.

My helmet crumbled and the black raven feathers disappeared into thin air.

I turned toward the mirror and looked into it with my likely bloodshot eye.

I cleared my throat and summoned a bit of water to drink from thin air.

"I have purchased the services of a rendering team from Gringotts. The same story of the dragon, the sphinx is legally mine under the Triwizard charter." I sighed.

I could faint now or push through the sheer exhaustion and give myself some first aid. Focusing was a problem, my thoughts escaping me, I could sleep only a little bit since I was sure the broken ribs didn't puncture my lung and that my brachial artery was fine. No wait.

I wasn't sure of it. I braced myself and cast the same all-purpose healing spell on my right arm. Now I only had to stay alive until the Task ended, walking e was out of the question. So, I propped myself against the sphinx and tried to rest without falling asleep. I hoped the fire would keep acromantulas and other bullshit away.

I was lucky.

1995-27 June

The tournament ended with Potter's victory. His mirror sadly didn't follow him through the portkey.

The fact that he disappeared for two hours without reason alerted Amelia Bones that there was something wrong.

When he reappeared with wounds he didn't have before, warning everyone about Voldemort, the Head of DMLE and of the Unspeakables were there to listen.

Minister Fudge could not swipe everything under the rug.

The Sirius Black case had been reopened, due to several testimonies and irregularities in the papers that documented his process.

Fudge succeded anyway in having Barty Crouch Jr. kissed before a proper questioning could happen.

Madam Bones had not been amused.

Fudge tried to having me arrested for being an unregistered animagus but having the papers given to him by no one other than McGonagall herself shut him up for good.

The goblins took care of my prey and tried to steal my stone sword. Greedy bastards.

All of this happened while I was asleep in the infirmary. Pomfrey had been a wonderful source of information even if she reprimanded me for a whole bunch of reasons i found unfair. But what she didn't know was in the prophet first page. Fudge already started his disinformation campaign.

In the end, she also told me I was in working order. I only felt a bit stiff.

So, all was well.

Fleur went back home, leaving me a letter that declared Britain as a madhouse. But it also said she was going to research magic for a while before exploring the world. It made me smile.

There was also a note from Dumbledore that required a meeting at my earliest convenience in his office.

While walking out, I noticed a big black dog under Potter's bed. Raven tried to meow. I ignored both.

I went to Flitwick office and let him read Dumbledore's note.

"I assume you want me to come with you?" he asked.

I simply nodded.

"I also assume that you won't explain why you don't wish to be alone with the headmaster?"

I smiled.

"Do you think you will need your stone sword?"

"Hmh, I had forgotten about that." He put the sword on the table with a soft clunk.

It was wrapped in a cloth, and he suggested me that I put it into my trunk.

It was a sound suggestion. While I was at it, I tossed all my stuff into the first floor of my trunk, before shrinking it and wearing it as a necklace

"I'm very busy with correcting the end of year exams, but we appear to be in luck, since the headmaster summoned me as well.

After a while we found ourselves in Dumbledore's office. A lot of less obvious magic permeated the air, but it could simply had been the end result of one thousand years of powerful wizard and witches sitting in the same place with the same intent of educating the next generation.

Snape, McGonagall and Sprout were also there.

The old warlock arched an eyebrow at the half-goblin presence but didn't otherwise react.

Raven stole the crystal cap of a bottle of ink before flying out of the window.

I snorted, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Sorry headmaster, she likes shiny stuff and can't always control herself."

Dumbledore lips twitched upwards.

"Oh I can relate, Fawkes loves to take my glasses anytime I put them down. Lemondrop?"

I politely declined.

"You'll be wondering why I asked you here Mr. Taylor." started the old warlock.

"I can actually venture several guesses, headmaster." I answered. I was observing one of the old warlock's trinkets that likely did more than what I could understand without dismantling them.

I recognized the deluminator, or put-outer. Now that was some interesting shit. If what Rowling wrote in the books was true, and up 'til now, it was, that little thing could guide you everywhere someone spoke your name.

Your name means that said person was speaking about you. There where thousands of Ronald's around after all, but Weasley had to follow only one light.

I tried to listen to it but I didn't hear a single thing that actually made sense.

It felt like falling, but not quite.

I light cough took me from my musings. "Sorry professors. But it is a beautiful piece of magic. Any unspeakable would probably give both arms for having this."

"Why thank you, Mr. Taylor. Perhaps we could focus for a while on the matter at hand?"

I remembered what we were doing before theatrically slapping my hand on my forehead. "Right. Sorry. Oh, I'm here either because you want to reprimand me for having killed a dragon and a sphinx with the intent of gaining something out of their deaths, because an unspeakable asked you to convey a message to recruit me, to ask me if I knew something about the events of the 24th, or to offer me the DADA teaching position for the next year. How close am I?"

His raised eyebrows were a sound and clear 'yes'.

Flitwick kept silence, he was likely curious as well. Ravenclaw indeed.

Then Dumbledore spoke: "If the unspeakable left you an offer, they didn't leave it in my hands. Otherwise, I would say you are pretty much spot on."

I so love bullshitting Dumbledore with knowledge from the future. "I'll pretend you asked me all of those questions then." I started before plopping myself down on a chair in front of his desk.

"The Triwizard Tournament is a gladiator arena. Nothing more nothing less. I chose to participate because bringing back such a monumentally idiotic thing is a tragedy waiting to happen. And I find it insulting that our governments would go with this Panem et circenses routine to make the people look away from the blatant corruption of the heads of almost every department and the still rampaging racism that put the only half-blood as head of Goblin Liason office, while muggle-borns are mostly treated like they are something less. Oh don't make that face professor, your own muggle studies course is taught by a pureblood." I shrugged at their gobsmacked expressions and turned my head around, my lone eye roaming the very interesting knick knacks around.

"So, I thought I could nip the Triwizard madness in the bud making sure it would cost a lot of money to the ministries, while having fun and gaining something out of it. I also gave birth to an inter-school duelling tournament that allows auror forces to scout among the student population also those that won't have a NEWT in potions because professor Snape only teaches to those who gained an Outstanding in their Potion OWL." I kept my tone even for all the time. It was easy since it didn't really influence me, I didn't need and didn't want to work, much less for the ministry. Snape didn't like my poke at his education standards but kept quiet.

"That was the answer to the first point. As to if I knew something would happen, yes, I knew, but probably less than you, headmaster. And finally, no, thank you, I don't want to teach anything anytime soon." I finished smiling.

Dumbledore was not amused, while Flitwick was... Flitwick'ing I guess. It's the term I use when the professor thinks about three or fourthousand things at the same time, he gets this vacant expression that is quite endearing.

"You knew something would happen." repeated Dumbledore.

"Please elaborate, Mr. Taylor" my Head of House prodded me.

I sighed. Well if they insist.

" Potter's family was attacked on the 31st of october, in his first year the 31st of october a troll was let in the castle. In June, he and his friends did something that gained them 160 points, and professor Quirrel, who probably was the one to let the troll in and attack the unicorns in the forest, was dead." I started.

His second year saw the opening of the fabled Chamber of Secrets, with The Boy Who Lived discovering the wonders of parseltongue, on the night of Hallows Eve. In June, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley - who should both have been expelled in September for flying an enchanted car over muggle London - both won a Special Award for Services to the School, and the attacks stopped. Lockhart is then quietly shipped to St. Mungos for an overpowered obliviation. I think the pattern is quite obvious." I raised an eyebrow challengingly towards my interlocutors.

Snape seemed to like how I was reminding the professors of all the favouritism. I went on.

"His third year: on All Hallow's Eve Sirius Black himself sneaks around dementors and stabs the wrong bed without even scratching the kid inside. In June, something happened that enraged Professor Snape enough to tell everyone the worst kept secret in the castle: Mr. Lupin is a werewolf. A werewolf that managed to keep quiet his condition for the whole year would probably use wolfsbane, which is one of the most complex brews the human mind can imagine, and that can easily kill with the smallest mistake. Oh and in the kitchen appeared a free elf of all things that believes Harry Potter is the best thing since sliced bread. And this year, after a Death Eater attack at the world cup that ended without a single arrest, the Triwizard got restarted and the names would be chosen on the 31st of October." My familiar made her first fuss about something that didn't happen yet. I also thought, but there was no need for them to hear about it.

"So I tried to bull my way through and get chosen for Hogwarts. I couldn't know there would be 4 champions. At the Weighting of the Wands, Raven spouted a riddle that was not a riddle for the second time, exactly when I was studying Potter's wand. About a brother, and the rune the kid has in his forehead that he knew nothing about. She also talked about the sun rising from Godric's Hollow, which is where the Potter lived. I offered him my help that day, and pushed him to study runes. He sadly never asked. So, I made sure Amelia Bones was in the crowd for the third task." I concluded, conjuring myself a glass before filling it with water transmuted from the humidity of the air.

"Very logical." said Flitwick.

Dumbledore just sat there for a minute, and then spoke: "You asked your Head of House here, even if he would have been expected in my office anyway. You meant to show to both of us that you don't feel safe being alone with you headmaster. Am I to assume that it is so because you think I had a hand in the events you so elegantly strung together?"

Damn he has a fast brain.

"That's the gist of it, yes." I answered.

"Is there more?" asked then the old warlock.

"I'm naturally very suspicious of everyone in a position of power." I happily added. There is really no need to accuse him of being a dark lord.

McGonagall's lips twitched. "I'm sorry Mr. Taylor but I feel like there is something... more" the old warlock insisted.

Oh he is good. Maybe telling him something emotionally heavy will keep him off my back.

"I've nothing against being manipulative, god knows it solves more problems than it causes, and choosing who to groom as the next Dumbledore is your prerogative. But quite simply, I just don't like you, professor." He seemed saddened, actually saddened! He was a scary good wizard, and maybe the holes in the canon Potterverse's plot where more Rowling's fault than his, but I threw it out of the window entering myself in the goblet of fire, so...

"May I ask why?" asked Flitwick. Flitwick should have been on my side!

But I had just told him I disliked his boss, who was seen as the peak of sunshine and rainbows. The other professors looked a bit incensed, while Snape looked... like Alan Rickman.

I kept my cool and slowly answered.

"Well, it's a lot of little things, really. He waited [until] Potter's first year to keep [bring] a philosopher's stone into the castle. He said, and I quote: the third floor's corridor is forbidden to all those that do not wish to die a gruesome death. That is most definitely an invite for eleven years old kids to explore. Then he praised his rulebreaking, both with letting him play quidditch on a personal broom, and the points for his end of year actions. I think the same happened regarding the obliviation of Lockhart and his Special Award. He quite clearly comes from a muggle home, nobody saw fit to tell him that he has a rune carved on his forehead instead of a scar. And he didn't prod him into learning occlumency, stuff that really could have helped him keep his emotions under control this year, as well as coming to terms with the home abuse." The professors were all adults, the best of their respective fields, and usually kept themselves under tight control.

The window's glass shattered.

That was McGonagall.

Sprout reigned in her magic before it could cause any harm.

Flitwick, like the wise Ravenclaw he was, kept his cool.

Snape's magic felt predatory, for lack of other terms.

However in all of this, I was entirely focused on Dumbledore, his reaction would tell me if I were in danger or not.

He was far too experienced to lose the tight control he kept on himself, and occlumency naturally helped develop an awareness of one's own face, so I was looking for the tiniest bit of emotion.

His magic usually felt like... calm itself: the stillness of a pool nobody was using, the solid certainty of a cube-shaped stone. But... There! A flicker, for a split of second, there had been a wave, and the stone glinted like steel. Rage. It had been smothered before it could take its first breath. That, along with the instant of shock showed by a sudden stillness on his facial features, confirmed it and I took a deep breath, relieved.

He didn't know.

All of that happened in less than half a second, then Snape, of all people, talked: "If this is a joke of some kind..."

"No joke professors, Harry Potter is spooked by sudden movements unless he is flying or close to someone he trusts, is jumpy when crowded, and almost underfed." Before they could interrupt me pointing out that those were not proof enough I went on with the true nail into the coffin.

"And he grew up in a cupboard." Before any of the professors could react in any way, Dumbledore spoke.

"How do you now this?"

It was a legitimate question, while the behaviour was something that could be observed, this was a detail one could come to know in one of two ways. If Potter himself told you, or through legimency. Obviously, in this case, it was the latter.

Now how to phrase it in a way that doesn't make me look like i stroll around using passive legimency on everyone, even if its true?

"After the Weighting of the Wands I offered him my help, I was sure he would have accepted it. So I skimmed the surface of his thoughts, since I wanted to get an idea of what I was working with. There was his first Hogwarts letter, addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. Then a lot of letters being burned. Then we spoke about the rune on his forehead and he thought about his parents. I stopped immediately. That is all." In the end, Sprout found my willingness to help another endearing, if a bit cold in its application.

Snape didn't comment, probably thinking about the 'son of Lily's' misfortune.

Flitwick gave me a stern glare, but then sighed, nodding at me, if it was because he accepted my explanation or because he considered that I was hardly causing harm, I couldn't tell. Besides, he did the same on the students that were trying to learn occlumency.

McGonagall would have probably chewed me out, but she was still thinking about the cupboard.

Dumbledore was looking at me, however and he didn't look like he was going to let it go.

"I propose we meet again on the 31st, after we all had a little time to cool down, so Mr. Taylor can also retrieve his NEWTs results."

It was clearly an order.

"I left a standard mailbox address in the care of the ministry, there won't be any reason for me to come here to retrieve my results. And before you attempt keeping them as a hostage, I'll let you know that I don't really need them." Like hell was I letting him dictate any aspect of my life.

One of the points of my Master Plan was being able to stand up to Dumbledore, Voldemort and the Ministry. Standing up to Dumbledore didn't mean being able to beat him in a duel, but being able to ignore his wishes.

They couldn't accuse me of anything, since the Wizengamot did not accept memories as proof, and veritaserum either. Well, veritaserum couldn't be used on members of noble houses, but it was a law born to protect family magics, so I could argue that I had a lot of original spells under my belt (as shown into the Tasks). But mostly, Dumbledore said Voldemort was back, the minister said it wasn't true. So anything that could go against the Headmaster would be welcome by Fudge, and have his backing.

From the tired look Dumbledore shot me, we both knew it.