A/N: TimI has been asking some good questions about the Empire, and I've decided to take time to answer them.
He wanted to know where the military in New England and New France will come from. The answer is obvious. From the local militias (Armsmen). The difficulty is that they have to be organized to repel an invader. They will be supplemented by regiments from the standing army but that will take time. And that answers another question. This war is going to last far longer than the story it is in.
On a more personal level, Jenny Planck will be giving birth sometime in February (Chapter 45). As to Harry's reaction to the changed history, he gave a brief opinion in the middle of the last chapter (at the oasis).
For HLB, as TimI pointed out in his review of the same chapter, Bertha Jorkins was the impetus for Barty Crouch, Jr. escaping his father's clutches. Harry merely had his wand stolen. Since Harry didn't go to the Quidditch Championship, Junior stole someone else's wand. But that is another story.
Chapter Forty: The First Task
Four Champions stood in the tent. Ludo Bagman was frantic. He kept asking Robert continuously where his brother was until Albus Dumbledore gave his assurances that Harry Potter would arrive shortly. The tent flap opened, as though he was waiting for the cue, and Harry walked in wearing his school robes.
"Brother," Robert shouted and ran to him, pulling him into an embrace. "I was worried."
"I wouldn't worry too much," Harry said as Robert released him. He looked at his brother carefully, and Harry winked at him. "I'm sorry I'm late. Shall we get started?"
Each Champion reached into a bag and pulled out a scale model of a dragon. As luck would have it, Robert pulled out a Norwegian Ridgeback with the number five on it. He would be last. Harry was almost as lucky. He was number four. And so they waited. Cedric went first, with a well-meant wish of good luck from the twin brothers, and from the sounds outside he did very well. Then the Veela girl was called, and Robert couldn't help laugh at the way Harry's eyes followed her. Finally, Victor Krum was called and the two were alone.
"Harry, what happened."
"Good, you remembered to call me Harry."
"Because I do not know who you are."
"I'm just a commoner, My Lord," Harry said and gave him another wink.
Robert almost laughed when his 'brother' pulled out a flask and took a drink. "I am humbled by your actions, Sir."
"Not yet," Harry replied, "but you will be after I'm done with this task. I am going to have everyone looking at me."
"How?"
Harry's grin widened. "Accio Firebolt. I just hope this wand works properly for me."
Robert had to laugh this time. Using a broom was a brilliant idea and much more fun than what he had planned. Robert was willing to bet that the real Harry would have thought of the same thing.
"Are you ready, Robert?" Harry asked. "You can use my broom when I'm done. They would expect twins to do the same thing."
"I have my own, brother, as you well know. But I will not be using a broom."
Harry eyed him carefully. "I know Dumbledore still has your wand."
"I do not need it."
"You aren't planning on cutting your way through?" A finger pointed at the sword. "You're not allowed to hurt the dragons."
"Then I am done for," Robert quipped, and both of them started laughing.
The laughter was broken by the sound of a whistle, and Harry stepped out of the tent. Robert listened carefully to the comments, wishing he could watch. He could easily hear Ludo Bagman shouting about what a great flier Harry was. Robert resisted the temptation to look out anyway. Applause suddenly drowned out every other noise and Robert prepared himself. In one minute the whistle would sound, and it would be his turn.
Hermione watched from the stands as Harry flew on his broom. She could almost believe it was Harry. She applauded wildly as he dove for the golden egg and raced toward the judge's table. Harry received forty points, tying him with Victor Krum. She, and everyone around her applauded again.
The whistle sounded for the fifth time, and everyone looked at the Champions' tent, but no one came out.
"And now we have our last Champion," Ludo Bagman called out, "Lord Somerset." A pause. "LORD SOMERSET!" Another pause. Hermione watched the tent as did everyone else. But from the corner of her eye she noticed the dragon, a Norwegian Ridgeback, was acting strangely. She turned to watch it as Ludo Bagman said, a little too loudly, "Someone fetch that daft boy and let him know it's his turn. Unless he's got cold feet."
"Ron," Hermione asked. "What's the dragon doing?"
Ron, and Susan Bones, followed Hermione's gaze. The Dragon had walked away from its eggs to sniff at a ball of moss the size of a bludger. Susan was the first one to recognize it.
"That's Morass Moss? Dragons react to it the way cats react to catnip."
"But why didn't any of the other dragons notice it?" Ron asked.
"Because it wasn't there before," Susan said. She looked over to see Hermione smiling. "And we didn't see anyone put it there."
Hermione's grin grew wider. "And I saw the golden egg disappear just now."
Ron looked at Hermione, then Susan. "He has Harry's cloak."
All three were watching the judge's table for what they knew was about to happen. A minute later, a hand appeared out of nowhere and held up the golden egg. Then the cloak dropped to the ground and Lieutenant Lord Somerset stood there in full uniform.
Karkaroff was on his feet immediately after the surprise wore off. "That was an illegal move. He's not allowed to use an invisibility cloak."
Ludo Bagman laughed. "Come now. Harry Potter used a broom."
"But 'e called it to 'im," Madame Maxime stated.
A small argument ensued, until Dumbledore asked to speak. "There is a violation of the rules, that much is obvious, but there is no clause in the rules to disqualify him from the contest. We must judge him based upon what he has done."
Karkaroff immediately waved his wand, and a zero formed in the air above his head. Madame Maxime started to follow suit, but paused to look at Robert. "It waz a clever trick." She waved her wand and white smoke formed the number two.
Albus smiled at her. "I must be a bit more generous, my dear." The number four appeared above his head. Barty Crouch gave a scowl, muttering, "This is for getting the egg." The number one appeared above his head.
Ludo Bagman looked at his fellow judges, and then at Robert who was smirking. "Well, boy, you gave us a good laugh. The least I can do is double your score." He waved his wand and a fireworks shot out, exploding into the number seven.
Robert looked sad. "Now I will have to take off my boot if I am to count all of my points. Oh, backward me."
Robert was not surprised that Albus Dumbledore was the only one to think his line humorous.
"I should remind you," Albus Dumbledore told the other judges afterward. "Neither Lord Somerset nor his brother are willing participants. Both of them had their names entered without their knowledge, while they have duties to perform in their own world."
Ludo Bagman objected. "Neither boy did anything wrong as far as I'm concerned. Although that Somerset boy did reveal prior knowledge of the task at hand. That's why I took three points off of his score."
Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime still objected.
"That is the point I am trying to make," Albus said sincerely. "Lord Somerset is deliberately flaunting the rules. He is making it clear that he has no interest in winning. Unlike his brother, circumstances permit him to remain here during the competition, while Lord Henry is forced to continue his duties in his own world."
"His name is Harry Potter," Barty Crouch reminded Dumbledore, "and this is his world."
"My apologizes. Let me correct myself. His chosen world."
"Zen why waz Lord Zomerzet entered into this contest?" Madame Maxime asked.
"The Empire assumes the worst," Albus explained. "Lord Somerset is here to add confusion to the matter should there be a plot against . . . Harry Potter."
"Fine, he has to be here. But does he have to be so rude all the time?" Karkaroff demanded.
Albus gave a shrug. "Of course not. I think he does it because he wants to."
It was Saturday afternoon. Hermione knocked on the door and opened it when Robert called for her to enter. He was standing at the small table examining the golden egg.
"You have your wand? I thought you were going to refuse to use it."
"I think this task requires the use of magic and I need to decipher the clue. This is more important than my personal wishes."
Hermione grinned. "And it has nothing to do with losing."
"This is not about losing. Harry is not here. When he returns, he may not have time to figure this out. I do."
"Oh, it's for Harry. You don't care about winning."
"I do not," Robert said evenly.
Hermione smirked. "But you don't want to lose because you couldn't do it."
Robert looked up in surprise. "It is not that way." He paused as Hermione laughed. He took Hermione's hands in his. "Perhaps you have the right of it, my love. You know me better at times than I know myself. I do not mind losing but I do not want to fail."
"Don't worry. You have plenty of time. You'll figure it out." Hermione pulled her hands from him and placed one on his arm. "A walk before dinner might help you to think."
"If it does not, it will still be a welcome distraction," Robert answered. Together they walked from Robert's rooms and headed toward the Main entrance.
Tuesday afternoon found Robert in the headmaster's office with a large number of people glaring at him. Most of them glared anyway, but now they had a reason.
"He drew his wand and attacked a student in my house," Professor Snape insisted smugly.
"He never was no good," Argus Filch muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Lord Somerset?" Albus asked. He was not smiling.
"I was angry, and I saw him drawing his wand."
"You have the means to protect yourself."
Robert nodded. "He was not attacking me, Sir. At least not until I had drawn my wand."
"He admits it," Snape said angrily, with a hint of triumph.
"Not so fast, Snape," Alastor Moody said scornfully. "The boy said Malfoy was not attacking him. Maybe you should ask who Malfoy was attacking. Well, My Lord?"
"Malfoy was insulting me, which was not unusual. The Skeeter woman wrote another article about me. She claimed that I had deliberately debauched a certain female student. But then he began to make remarks about Hermione Granger to the effect that she was not forced to comply with what that woman called my depravities. To state it mildly, Sir, words were exchanged and Malfoy pulled out his wand after losing the verbal argument. I pulled out my wand to protect Hermione. Our spells hit each other and were deflected. Mine hit Goyle and his spell hit Her . . ."
"We know the rest," Moody said. "Albus, It's for you to decide."
Snape was indignant. "I have already given him detention for his remarks to me after I confronted him."
"I hope you gave him every insult in the book, boy," Moody told Robert.
Albus held up his hands to forestall any further remarks. "I think all of you should know, especially you Severus, that Lord Somerset is only following his instructions. He is supposed to express his displeasure at being here, frequently and vocally. If I may have your orders, My Lord."
Robert handed him a piece of paper, which Albus had everyone read. He then took out a quill and added a couple of lines at the bottom. "I am taking it upon myself, My Lord, to modify your orders to exempt the teachers and staff at Hogwarts from your personal abuse. You will see Professor Snape about your detention."
Robert forced a thin smile. "Headmaster, I must point out that I am not a student at this school. Professor Snape, nor any other teacher at this school has the authority to give me detention."
"But I do," an angry voice said. Father Maurice Pannier, quiet until this moment gave voice to his anger. "And when I am finished with you, anything Professor Snape would have done will seem like a birthday party. You will come with me now."
Robert followed Father Maurice, pausing only to turn and bow as he left the headmaster's office. The two walked without speaking until they entered Father Maurice's office. The priest ordered Robert to sit as he closed the door.
"Do you know what you have done?" Father Maurice demanded. "You used magic to attack someone."
"I was protecting . . ."
Father Maurice cut him off. "You used magic to ATTACK. The first thing you were told when you learned about magic was that you never use magic against anyone. NEVER. Do you remember why?"
Robert held his breath as he understood what he had done. He answered in a humbled voice. "To use magic against another person is to use Black Magic."
"And what does Black Magic do?"
"It drains the soul," Robert answered by rote, "And it destroys the mind."
"Exactly. My Lord Somerset, even in this world. Their magics are small, so that the harm is small, but the harm is there, and it can grow. You can still see its effects. The false lord Voldemort is the clearest example. You have heard the rumours as have I. Before his destruction he barely looked human. His magic consumed him. He has damned himself with no hope of redemption."
"And he will go to everlasting hell when he dies."
Father Maurice paused at Robert's comment. "If he dies, My Lord. Even now he seeks immortality, or did you forget?"
"But all men die?"
A look of pity crossed the priest's face. "You know the words, My Lord, but you do not understand the implications. And you, of all people, should. All men do not die. Voldemort is not the first man in this world to look for immortality. Even if he should discover immortality he will not be the first. Others have found the secret before him. Do you not remember the abominations?"
A shudder went through Robert's body. Father Maurice was talking about dementors.
The priest smiled. "Now, you do understand. Those abominations were once men, men who had given themselves over to the lust of power that Black Magic promises. They have destroyed their own souls to achieve the immortality they now have, an immortality they can only keep by destroying the souls of others.
"Understand this, my son. Today you took a small step in that direction, but it can be easily withdrawn."
"What must I do, Father?"
"Why, you simply refrain from doing such a thing again, regardless of how tempting. Because that is the danger. If you begin to think of it as a small hurt, that you can handle it, you will more easily be tempted to handle more of it. And one day, it will handle you."
With the memories of the dementors brought freshly to mind, Robert quickly and sincerely promised never to do such a thing again.
"I will hold you to that promise, My Lord, as will God above. I have heard your confession and I will now give you your penance."
Robert reacted in horror when he was told of what he must do.
The students were gathered for supper, and Albus Dumbledore was giving the announcements before the meal began. That was when Robert walked into the Great Hall. He was dressed, as usual, in his Naval Uniform but now he was wearing his dress uniform. The gold trim seemed to glow. With his hand on the finely polished sheath of his sword, he walked over to the Slytherin table until he stood next to Gregory Goyle.
"Goodman Goyle," Robert said loudly, "I must beg to interrupt you."
Goyle looked at him. With a cue from Malfoy he began to laugh, and asked rudely, "What do you want?"
"I wrongfully attacked you earlier today, Sir. I humbly apologize for an act I had no right to commit, and I beseech you to forgive me."
Goyle listened as someone explained what beseech meant. "Yeah, I'll forgive you, If . . ." He paused as he noticed that the entire hall was watching the scene. "If you kiss my shoe."
The request drew a laugh from almost everyone at the Slytherin table, and from a few other students. Robert knelt down, and the laughter grew louder as everyone realized he was actually going to do it. At Malfoy's suggestion, Goyle stopped Robert and raised his foot.
"Kiss the bottom of my shoe."
As he held his foot up, Robert dutifully bent to kiss the shoe. As his lips touched the sole, Goyle kicked out, sending Robert sprawling on the floor.
"You're forgiven," Goyle said harshly, but this time it was only the Slytherins who laughed, and one teacher. Everyone else was surprised at what Robert had done. Two Ravenclaws helped Robert to stand, and one offered him a handkerchief for his now bleeding lip. Robert refused and turned back to Goyle.
"I thank you, Sir, and I promise it will not happen again."
Lieutenant Lord Robert Somerset strode from the hall. He had done his penance.
