My thanks to a guest reviewer for this idea just ahead.
The Treasure Hunter.
I could have done without this, Harry thought to himself as he followed Colin Creevey to some part of the castle for something to do with the Tournament about weighing the wands while they were both followed by a goblin lawyer from Gringotts. The wand weighing was apparently a ceremony where the wands used by the Triwizard Champions were checked to see if they were in good order. Harry didn't bother really making much small talk with Colin despite a little bit; he knew, thanks to his skill in the mind arts, the younger boy was essentially harmless but he was a bit overexcited.
The younger boy was curious about the goblin's presence, and thankfully he had restrained himself from speaking like a collection of machine guns firing in the presence of the goblin.
Good lord, if I'd known all I'd needed to do was to get a goblin to shut Colin up…, Harry thought to himself with amusement at the idea of finally making the younger boy breath a little bit.
When he had learnt about the weighing of the wands from Bagman only a few nights ago when Harry had gone to interrogate him one more time. He had decided that constantly going to Bagman to demand information was the best way to be prepared every step of the way. A few nights ago, Harry had learnt that the ceremony would be observed and reported by the Daily Prophet reporter Rita Skeeter.
At first, he had been curious about why she was coming. Harry had never particularly thought much of the woman; she was nothing more than a muckraker who made everyone look bad, but he had read enough about her ever since the day he had walked through the gates of Hogwarts to know she was more suited to gossip column writing than on the reporting of something like a ceremony for the Triwizard Tournament.
The moment he had learnt from Bagman who was coming into the castle, he had immediately gotten suspicious and while he couldn't interrogate Dumbledore, he could not see anything wrong with taking precautions in case Skeeter tried her little brand of creative writing on him.
He didn't care what she wrote about others so long as he was left alone, but he was worried.
He was just glad he had a good arrangement with the goblins in order to get hold of a goblin lawyer; ever since he had met the goblins following the sale of the basilisk he'd killed, Harry had won quite a few favours from the goblins, but this was the biggest favour he had ever asked from them. The goblin lawyers at Gringotts had listened to his concerns of Rita Skeeter's reputation for being a reporter who told lies, and how he did not want her to do the same thing to him and they'd responded positively. Harry knew the goblins did not care about his emotional wellbeing, only for profit but he knew the goblin they'd sent would definitely make sure the sleazy woman did not cause any problems.
What made it sweeter was how much influence the Potter family had over the Daily Prophet and several other media groups within the magical world. If the woman went behind the backs of the Prophet editor office, he would ensure she was fired for good and he would make it impossible for her to be employed, although Harry wondered if anyone would actually hire the woman at all considering the pain and misery she'd left in the wake of her articles.
But he didn't want to take part.
Sure, he could understand the point behind the need to make sure the wands were in good shape, but Harry had dozens of things he needed to do still in preparation for the Tasks. In fact, he had dropped out of the majority of his classes so he could conduct his research in the library. The teachers didn't like it but thanks to the Tournament he was allowed to do as he pleased, although he would have done it regardless.
When Colin had found him in the library and told him it was time for the Weighing of the Wands, Harry had sent out the call for the goblin and he had dragged the younger boy to the gates of the castle to wait after he'd sent word to Gringotts. The goblin's name was apparently Sharptooth, and given how one of his teeth was prominently longer and reminded Harry of a jagged tooth out of a shark's mouth, he could understand how the goblin not only got the name but he also lived up to it.
Sometimes Harry wondered if goblins chose their names as time passed, as a kind of rite of passage, but he had never gotten the courage to ask about their traditions.
As they got closer to the room, Harry wondered what the reaction to the presence of the goblin lawyer be while he heard the rather bland arguments from inside. Finally, they arrived and Colin glanced at Harry, but the younger boy's eyes flickered over to the goblin for a second. "I'll see you later then, Harry."
And with that the boy took off, leaving Harry wondering if he should perhaps speak to Colin about his hero-worship in the hopes it might calm the boy down.
Harry glanced at Sharptooth and nodded before pushing the door open. All conversation shut down as soon as he walked in.
"Ah, Mr Potter, there you are. Where have you…been?" Dumbledore trailed off as he took in the presence of the goblin behind Harry as he strode into the room. Dumbledore's surprise was mirrored by the others, especially for the British wizards in the room. Harry wasn't surprised to find that Ludo Bagman looked terrified. Harry had never understood gambling in his life, he couldn't see the point behind it but what he didn't know was how Bagman had lasted this long without the goblins coming down hard on him for his debts. But that was Bagman's problem.
"Just summoning my associate here, Headmaster. This is Sharptooth. He's from Gringott's legal branch," Harry said while Sharptooth looked around the room, focusing on Ludo Bagman's paling face. "I asked for the goblin's legal team because of her," he pointed at Rita Skeeter."
The reporter jumped at the sound of her name; Harry just wasn't sure if the reaction was because Skeeter loved a bit of melodrama in her life, or if she was genuinely surprised by her inclusion into this.
"Explain yourself, Harry!" Dumbledore demanded although he was getting worried deep down.
"Oh, it's simple enough, and I think Miss Skeeter understands precisely why I'm taking this step. I asked for the goblins to send one of their lawyers here because Miss Skeeter is not what I would call a true reporter. She's a gossip columnist, she ruins peoples' lives and I won't have her doing it to me. I would suggest," Harry added with a glance towards his fellow Champions, "you take the same steps yourselves; we're in the middle of a difficult competition and have better things to do with our time than cope with the lies and slander of a gossip columnist."
Everyone looked shocked by the steps taken by the Boy Who Lived; they had begun realising he was ruthless and he took a number of steps many saw as unfair and had devastating consequences, but they hadn't expected this.
Hesitantly Fleur Delacour stepped forwards. "Excuse me, Monsieur Potter, but how did you get a Gringott's lawyer to represent you. They can't come cheaply. No offence," she added, looking at the goblin.
Sharptooth shook his head. "None taken, Mademoiselle Delacour. Mr Potter has paid us already with the corpse of the basilisk he killed here at Hogwarts at the age of twelve."
Everyone gasped.
A basilisk?
Harry Potter had killed a basilisk when he was twelve.
Harry Potter had killed a basilisk, while it was in Hogwarts, a magical school for young witches and wizards, at twelve years old. Nobody even dared to accuse the goblin lawyer of lying. People had been killed by goblins for less.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore could see many of his plans - his amazing plans - falling apart and turning into ashes only for them to be blown away in a hurricane. He had deliberately and subtly hinted to Barnabus from the Daily Prophet to send Rita Skeeter to write about the Triwizard Tournament; originally the idea was because he had known the arrogant woman's habit of writing gossip for the masses and ruining the lives of important people in society, and she would have jumped at the chance to write about Harry Potter. Dumbledore had hoped with the people mocking him the boy, making him look bad in the eyes of the magical world, would either look to him for support or he would grow stronger and learn to forgive and forget.
Dumbledore could see a number of things about the boy which the magical world would condemn or mock, but he had hoped that Rita could've gotten Harry into a private interview, where the idiotic woman's Quick-Quotes Quill would write whatever Rita wanted it to say where she could then spin some article to make everyone laugh at Harry but now the plan was going up in flames and smoke.
But ever since the day the boy had embarrassed him, embarrassed the school… the idea had taken on a whole new meaning. Dumbledore wanted Harry to be humiliated in order to humble him a little bit. He knew he should have stepped in a long time ago when the boy had been abandoned by the Dursleys, but it was too late now. If he had then perhaps the boy would be the meek follower he had wanted ever since the Potters had died.
But listening to this now, and how the boy had the goblins on his side had Dumbledore truly worried and horrified. How had the boy become this resourceful and so quickly? He decided to keep watch on the boy in the near future.
But the news of the basilisk would bring a number of headaches. Severus was going to hit the roof when news of this broke out, but there was nothing the resident Potions Master could do, and Dumbledore knew that while Severus had a high opinion of his abilities which drifted dangerously across the line of arrogance, he was no match for the goblins.
But still, there might be a chance of persuading the boy to change his mind…
"Harry, there was no need for this. You didn't need to bring in a Gringotts Lawyer, and perhaps we could talk about the basilisk?" Dumbledore tried to say, but Harry shook his head.
"I beg to differ, Headmaster," Harry's voice was calm and his eyes were expressionless. "But I think having Sharptooth around is a good idea. I am not going to allow some gossipmonger to write lies about me in a newspaper. And as for the basilisk, I killed it and I have claimed it, is that not right Sharptooth?"
The goblin stepped forwards, his small eyes glinting malevolently as he fixed Dumbledore with a dark stare. "Mr Potter is correct, Mr Dumbledore," Sharptooth placed so much emphasis on Dumbledore's name instead of giving him the titles the Wizarding world in their stupidity had handed the ancient wizard on a platter with the clear message stating the goblin did not think Dumbledore had earned them. "The basilisk has been rendered down and there is nothing you can do about it. And before you say the basilisk was killed on Hogwart's grounds, that's immaterial. Harry Potter made the claim first. Not you, and if you even think of trying to cheat this young wizard of the money, let me warn you now the penalty will be severe."
The goblin's voice was mild, deceptively so, but the threat was clear in his tone. Dumbledore paled at the threat, but he wisely held his tongue since he knew the goblin would argue back.
But what really kept him silent as there was nothing he could do.
Severus was going to explode with this news, but Dumbledore was going to have to force the potions master to hold his tongue around Harry and the other Champions, to say nothing of the foreign teachers. With Gringott's legal team on his side, Harry was stronger than ever.
Worse was to come.
Sharptooth turned and fixed his attention on the Champions. "If you three would wish it, I recommend you and I speak of a deal to protect you against any libel written in the newspaper."
The other Headmasters agreed swiftly with the offer.
XXX
Standing in a disused classroom, Harry stood over a rickety old table with a large map of Britain thrown over the pockmarked old wood with his wand held in his hand. The tip of his wand was glowing purple-turquoise-green-blue with hints of red.
Harry was scrying for buried treasure. Unlike muggles, who used a map and some stupid little crystal they believed focused the magic of the spell, wizards had a more advanced means of scrying with the aid of a spell.
All you needed was a wand, knowledge of the spell and what you wanted firmly fixed in your mind with a map outstretched in front of you. Scrying was a relatively simple magical art, but he knew there were many who wouldn't be able to make it work. Oh, he was sure Weasley could perform the magical side, okay, but he would need to mentally think of what he wanted to find. The scrying spell sent what was essentially a pulse through the ambient magic and came back with the answer.
Closing his eyes, Harry prepared to perform the spell. His occlumency barriers instantly created the mental equivalent of a strongbox and pushed all of his innermost thoughts into it to ensure he concentrated properly while he focused on various treasures; ancient coins, the remains of Roman villas currently undetected which contained pieces of mosaics, old weapons, pieces of gold, silver, remains of Viking warships and their weapons and artefacts.
He didn't end there.
He scried for old fashioned sailing ships carrying various artefacts, the remains of dinosaur skeletons and other fossils; Harry was thinking of opening and running a nice little business selling various artefacts.
He had done some research and he had learnt the private selling of dinosaur remains - fossils, skeletons - or part of skeletons, pieces of fossilised eggshell was big business.
While he believed the idea of scrying belonged to one of those tacky muggle beliefs on how magic should be, Harry actually found the wizarding version of the spell useful. Granted, Britain was a small scale for the first scan, but it was a start. Within moments of beginning the spell, little dots appeared all over Britain.
Harry smirked while he cast a charm over the map to freeze the results while another flick transferred the locations of each site and what they contained onto a number of sheets of paper including the longitude and latitude coordinates. He would visit those locations soon and discover what they contained in due time. But for now, he had other things to concern himself with.
The First Task was due soon.
