Chapter Forty Five: Hope and Artfulness

"Harry!" Hermione ran up and hugged him as he entered the common room. "Are you back to stay?"

Harry had to smile. "Yes, I am back."

Fred and George were the next to greet him. They asked the same question they asked Robert. "Have you heard from Ginny?"

"Only the one package she sent me. I was told she wrote your parents?"

"Yeah. They wouldn't tell us much except that she was fine. Mom's threatened Professor Quirrell. She wants to go find her. Ginny wouldn't say where she was. She gave him a letter to send to her but . . ."

Harry understood. "He does not know where she is."

By the time the conversation ended almost everyone else had gathered in the common room. Harry spent most of the afternoon assuring everyone he would not be leaving. They all asked about his glasses.

"We have time before dinner," Hermione said after she could finally get him away from everyone. "Why don't we find Robert."

Harry smiled at the thought, then noticed her hand. "Is that a ring?"

Hermione blushed, but pulled him out of the common room before she would say anything.

"Robert and I made it official. We won't be married for another five years, because of my schooling, but I'm going with the two of you when the tournament is over. I'm going to be a Sorcerer . . . and a Lady."

Harry smiled in spite of being reminded of his secret. "I am happy for both of you."

Hermione smirked. "Your fiancé was here for the Yule Ball. Have you made it official?"

Harry's smile faded. "Lady Caroline and I will not be getting married. It seems that it was not meant to be."

Hermione grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope it's for the best." She pulled him down another corridor. "This way."

"But Hufflepuff . . ."

"Robert isn't in Hufflepuff. He has a private room."

"Oh, right." Harry remembered about his brother representing the School of Sorcery.


Robert opened the door and immediately grabbed Harry in a bear hug. Harry returned the favor. Hermione almost laughed when she saw tears in both their eyes.

"They told me nothing, brother. Only that they knew where you were." He paused. "Your glasses?"

Harry smirked and reached into his eye and showed him the contact lense. "The Polish Empire has a new advance in eye care. His Slavonic Majesty gave me several pair as a gift. I even have a pair of tinted lenses."

Robert smiled. "And we were just beginning to look more alike." He laughed at Harry's quizzical look and lifted the hair off his forehead to reveal a jagged scar which could be said to be shaped like a lightning bolt.

"Harry, how is Roger?"

"I never had a chance to see him." A pause. "I visited your godfather."

A simple nod. "Did he say anything?"

"As soon as the tournament is over."

"I see."

Robert grabbed his brother in another hug, and began crying again.

"Robert?" Hermione asked.

"I will explain later."


A small crowd gathered in Robert's room. Two sets of twins, Hermione, Ron Weasley and Susan Bones, Colin and his brother Dennis and, lastly, Cedric Diggory. There were also three Golden Eggs.

"Cedric discovered the secret, " Robert explained.

"And Robert promised not to tell anyone but you," Cedric added. "He led me to believe the two of you would be alone when he told you."

Fred grinned. "It's easier to cheat if more people are involved."

Cedric raised his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head, "I think we've passed that point. Now we're just trying to get through this. Harry, do you know how to create a bubble of air?"

"No."

"Well, you have a month to learn. Or you could try Robert's plan."

"And Robert's plan is?"

"It is Lord Darcy's idea to be honest." Robert smirked. "I have smuggled scuba gear into the school. I will get no points for blatantly cheating, again, but it will confuse them."

"Scuba?" Ron asked.

"Bubbleheads for muggles," Cedric answered, as though he had always known what it was.

"You could ask Ludo Bagman for advice," Ron offered. "He's been asking everyone about you. I think he really wants you to win."

"Maybe I will," Harry suggested. "After all, I cheated on the first task."

Robert and Hermione suddenly became curious about anything else while Fred and George looked not poignantly at Ron and Susan. Cedric and Colin only smiled. It was Dennis who asked.

"How did you cheat? They said it was legal to call your broom."

"Did I use a broom?"

"Yeah." Dennis frowned at the strange question.

"Was it Polyjuice Potion?" Fred asked.

"Who took your place?" George demanded.

Dennis understood what had happened. That someone had taken Harry's place. "You cheated," he said indignantly.

"I thought you knew. I thought that was why you were here."

"He's here because he kept pestering me," Colin answered.

"It worked," Dennis added bashfully.


Harry never had the chance to approach Ludo Bagman. Ludo Bagman approached him. It took less then ten minutes, but Bagman had given Harry the means to perform the second task.

"It's Gillyweed. I thought that's why you came to see me?"

"Mister Bagman, you were the one who came up to me."

"But you were heading in my direction. It is my fault for assuming. Take the Gillyweed anyway, just in case you can't think of a better idea."


February came, as did the second task. Harry excelled in spite of himself, by showing moral fiber. Robert was amused at his error and at its results. The Veela girl, however, was appreciative that Harry had made the effort to rescue her sister as well as Ron.

Robert was pleased as well. He did manage to rescue Hermione, despite his heavy gear and his refusal to use magic in the course of the task. His score was higher than he expected because the judges had accepted the fact that he was not trying to win. The scores were to show what they thought of his cleverness.

But one thing happened, a serious matter, that went unnoticed by everyone. Robert and Hermione were sitting together after the task was over, when Hermione said there was something in her hair. Without even thinking about it, Robert plucked the beetle out of her hair and crushed it, flinging the remains away, saying simply that it was only a bug.

Ironically, the Daily Prophet accused him of being somehow responsible for the mysterious disappearance of their most popular reporter.


Lord Darcy was enjoying himself. Once again he had the chance to play the detective. He stood and watched as the people entered the teachers lounge and took their seats, wishing only that his revelation could be more dramatic.

"Good Evening to you, My Lords and Ladies, Goodmen and Goodwomen. And I thank you, Professor Dumbledore, for permitting this meeting. I promise I will not keep you long. You will still have time to change for dinner."

"And zis meeting iz because?" Madame Maxime asked.

"Permit me, Madame. I am Lord Darcy, Chief Criminal Investigator for His Highness, the Duke of Normandy. I am on a special assignment from His Majesty, John IV, to investigate the matter of his nephew's name being entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"His nephew?" Karkaroff scoffed. "It was your king's idea in the first place."

"I am referring to Lord Henry, not to Lord Robert."

Karkaroff started to say something but someone behind him snorted. It was Viktor Krum. He turned and saw almost every champion trying to hide a grin.

Ludo Bagman openly laughed. "We always knew Harry was someone special. Now we know he's special in two worlds."

Lord Darcy smiled at the remark. He continued to smile as he turned from Ludo Bagman to look at the Professors that had gathered. His eyes passed over McGonagall and Snape and stopped at the DADA Professor.

"Professor Moody. Would you agree that Lord Henry is someone special?"

Moody did not smile. His magic eye was fixed, not on Lord Darcy, but on Master Sorcerer Sean O'Lochlainn who was preparing his brazier in the corner of the room. "Of course he's special. He stopped Voldemort once and he has it within him to stop Voldemort again. That makes him very special in my book."

"Special enough to help him in his task?"

"I did nothing that anyone else would have done if they could, for their school champions. Especially you, Karkaroff. You wouldn't mind going back on your promise to be fair if it would help you win."

"I don't have to take that from you, Moody," Karkaroff said but lapsed into silence when the magical eye turned in his direction.

"Maybe you do," Moody said with a mirthless grin, then turned back to Lord Darcy. "I guess if you know what I did then you know I didn't do it alone." This time he looked at Ludo Bagman. "You already know who helped me."

"I do, Professor Moody," Lord Darcy admitted. "And I should question your interference, except neither you nor Minister Bagman were the only ones."

Four of the Five Champions fidgeted in their seats when Lord Darcy turned to look at them. "I will make this easy for everyone. The Beauxbatons Champion, Fleur Delacour, was the least guilty. She merely offered her help. Viktor Krum, the Drumstrang Champion actually suggested the means of solving the clue to the second task. After all, Lord Henry was not involved by choice and had not had the chance to pursue the task for several months. Krum did not know that the remaining champions had already told Lord Henry exactly what the clue was and were coaching him on how to perform possible spells."

"Excuse me," Professor Dumbledore said, "I know that the Champions were guilty of bending the rules, to varying degrees, but I think we should commend them for their willingness to keep this contest fair on a higher level, so that everyone could compete on an equal footing."

Madame Maxime nodded, although her amusement showed. Karkaroff, having no choice, went along with Dumbledore's politely phrased suggestion that they simply forget the matter.

"None of this," Lord Darcy continued, "tells us the perpetrator of the crime. But it does give us a clue. It eliminates a great number of people. Because whomever wanted Lord Henry Somerset to participate clearly wanted him to win."

"How can you possibly know that?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"It is simple deduction. To date, no one was done anything to cause hurt to Lord Henry. But several people have made efforts to help him. In particular, Professor Moody and Minister Bagman."

"You are a smart man," Moody said with an honest smile. "You didn't let my credentials scare you away from suspecting me."

"My dear Sir, I suspect everyone of everything unless I can determine the truth. Be that as it may, I know that you did not enter Lord Henry's name." Lord Darcy turned to Ludo Bagman. "Sir, would you like to explain why? Or should I?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bagman insisted as all eyes turned on him.

Lord Darcy simply smiled. "I have talked to almost everyone I could find in the course of my investigation. Several Goblins were interested in what I was doing once they understood the possible results."

Ludo Bagman's face immediately drained of blood.

"I, I had to," Bagman stammered. "I know I have a problem with gambling but this seemed like a sure thing. I . . ." He stopped and gave Lord Darcy a defeated look as the group murmured about his confession.

"It was easy to trace the crime to you, Mister Bagman. You did little to cover your tracks. In fact you were almost blatant about it. The only thing that kept anyone from suspecting you was the thought that someone did this out of hate, not greed. As it is, my duties here are complete and I will return home to my family. I will leave your fate to your peers."

Ludo Bagman watched as Lord Darcy left the room. He barely noticed that the Lords Somerset followed him. No one noticed that Master Sean did not.

"Uncle?" Lord Henry dared to ask once they caught up with him. "Will I see you again?"

Lord Darcy smiled. "At least once more." He leaned into both boys and whispered. "It seems that Professor Gabriel Quirrell wants me to do a favour for him, and I have agreed. I do not plan on falling in my task."

"What kind of favour?" Robert, Lord Somerset asked.

"The resolution of a prophecy," his uncle explained. "But that must wait as I have to return and make my report."

"Thank you, Uncle," Lord Henry said warmly. "And, um, . . ."

"Goodman Lupin is fine and well. And he is entertaining thoughts."

Harry and Robert grinned. "Could you ask him to hurry? Just in case?"

Lord Darcy laughed. "Professor Quirrell was right. It is amazing to watch the two of you do that. And slightly scary."

"We know," they said together.


"They did it," Dennis Creevey shouted as Harry walked into the Gryffindor common room with his brother.

Harry looked amused. Dennis was not talking about the Second Task nor the meeting that took place afterward. "Who did what?"

"My Mum and Dad. They agreed to let Colin go back." He spoke in a loud whisper so everyone could hear. "They might let me go, too."

"They won't," Colin said as he came down the steps from his dorm. He was dressed in his uniform again. Robert noted he didn't have the sword anymore.

"How?" Robert had to ask.

Colin smiled. "Admiral Grissom. He wrote a letter to my folks. And he had others write to them as well. Including Lieutenant Orley."

"And he is?" Harry asked.

"Alive and well," Robert answered. He smiled knowing what the subject of conversation would be over dinner.


Henry Plank was beside himself. The luck of a storm brought him to London in time for the momentous occasion. But all he could do was sit and wait.

The HRMS Adventurer had been prowling the waters between New France and Africa when a sudden storm came from the west forcing the ship to head north, almost making it. Weather beaten but still afloat, they found themselves and their prize close to Grenada. A passing cutter, the same mail ship that had carried Colin Creevey, had advised them to head to Dover for repairs. Given two weeks furlough, Henry caught the first train to London.

Now he was pacing outside his flat, his only companion a grubby nine year old.

"She'll be a'roight," the boy said as a scream came from inside. Henry rushed to the locked door and stood there like a fool. It was a baby's scream.

Several minutes later, Goody Corman opened the door and smiled at him. "Yer a father, boy. Now get inside." Oliver went to follow but she stopped him. "You'll get your chance soon enough. It's them that needs to be alone."

As she closed the door, Oliver asked, "Whot is it?"

"A boy," Goody Corman whispered. "Henry Arthur Planck."

Inside the room, a tired but happy girl lay on the bed with the new born child nestled in the crook of her arm.

"He's beautiful," Henry said as he looked down at mother and child.

"I wish you could stay," Jenny said. "I see so little of you."

"I wish I could." Henry hesitated. "I've thought about your Christmas letter. About Port Adelaide. I think it would be a good idea. That's where we resupply. I could see you at least every three months, hopefully."

"But I can't leave now," Jenny said.

"I've talked with a few people. Captain Slye said he would call in a favour. If things work out. They're letting families travel west on military ships."

Jenny smiled at her husband. He would do anything to spend time with her. Almost anything. His duties had to come first. But he had a good point. A military ship would be safer, as far as the health of the baby. They needed the men to be in their best physical shape, making hygiene an important issue.

"May, maybe June," Jenny said softly. "It will depend upon Harry." And it would. If the baby thrived. If the healer agreed. If nothing else went wrong with her life. She looked at Henry's hand, the one with three fingers. An accident took two of them away in the blink of an eye. And it could have been worse. It didn't even happen during a battle.


"Lord Darcy has made his report, Your Majesty. Everything that could be done, has been made ready."

"Has Dumbledore been informed? And has he been made aware of the risks?"

The Lord Seneschal nodded. "Yes to both, Your Majesty. He finds these risks acceptable. The sorcerer made a demonstration to prove how effective the spells would be. He has also assured us that no one suspects. Least of all the counterfeit Alistor Moody."

"We are pleased. The Plantagenets always honour their pledges."


Henry Planck was sitting with Commander Potts as Sarah and the children marveled at the new baby. The Commander was eager to hear fresh stories from the sea.

"Lieutenant, where did your sword come from?" Tristram Potts asked at one point.

Henry paused in embarrassment. "I do not have one, Sir. I haven't had the time." He did not want to admit that it would be a while before he could afford a proper sword.

Tristram smiled and called out. "Sarah, I need my package after all."

Sarah grinned, and asked Jenny's pardon as she went to her flat. She returned shortly. Henry stared at what she was holding and watched as she gave the sword to Tristram, who was still smiling.

Tristram took the sword when it was placed in his hands. He held it out, and said to Henry, "Will you accept my sword. It has sat in a closet for too long."

Henry Planck stared at the fine scabbard and the handsomely crafted hilt. He knew the blade must also be of high quality. He wanted to refuse, but the tone of the old man's voice almost begged him to do this.

"It would be an honour, Commander."

Commander Tristram Potts smiled in relief. "I am proud to present this sword to you, Lieutenant Planck. As you receive honour by this sword, may you give honour to it."

Henry took the sword from Tristram's hands. "I will do my duty, Commander. I can do no more."

Suddenly Sarah was there, thrusting mugs of ale into each of their hands and brandishing one of her own. She wanted to shout the words but she had to think of the baby. "Here's to Lieutenant Henry Planck."


"Lord Henry," The lady said as she walked up to him outside the Great Hall.

"Missus Creevey," Harry replied, bowing slightly.

"Shouldn't that be Goodwoman Creevey? We are in your Empire."

Harry nodded his head. "Goodwoman Creevey. What can I do for you?"

Mrs. Creevey pursed her lips. "It's about Colin. He went back this morning. I need to know if I did the right thing."

Harry stood there nervously. Why was she asking him? As far as she was concerned he was still a boy as well. "I do not know," he finally answered. "I am not even sure that the choices I am making are correct. I can only hope that everything turns out for the best."

Mrs. Creevey mumbled something polite and walked away. Harry stood there watching her. For months he had been treated as an adult by people who knew better. He had even made it a point to let others know that in his adopted world he was considered an adult. Yet this one woman, by taking his words at face value, made him feel like a child.

No longer feeling hungry, he went outside and walked down to the ship. Perhaps talking to Sirius Black would help. He was always good at helping Harry sound things out. As he walked to the ship it was a different voice that greeted him.

"My Lord Darcy, have you returned already?"

"I was asked to talk to your headmaster, and I decided to talk to a few new friends as well. I was also giving your godfather a letter and the latest news from Remus Lupin."

"Is he well?!" Harry asked, delighted at the chance for some news.

"A June wedding from the sounds of things." Lord Darcy noted the change of expression on his nephew's face. "And a good possibility that you might be asked to attend."

"My Lord?"

"Always hope, Harry. All we need is the right moment, the right piece of information, and your difficulties are resolved. Tell no one about this, but that is also one of the reasons I am here."

"Uncle, will you be staying long?"

"Sadly, I must leave anon. Lord Bontriomphe received a letter from Saint Cathal's Academy. It seems that your brother is in trouble."

"What did he do?"

Lord Darcy wore an infectious grin. "I have no idea. But if I know Lord London, he will be laughing when he tells you about it."

Harry remembered the time he and Lord Bontriomphe found Lord London hiding behind the heating grate. "I believe you, Uncle. Nor do I regret you your task."

Lord Darcy clapped Harry's shoulder. "Let us get something to eat before we go, Nephew. I want you to explain why that glint came to your eye when I mentioned your brother and trouble in the same sentence."

"Gladly, Uncle."


Jenny was thrilled at the turn of events. At only two months of age, Harry Arthur Planck was pronounced fit to travel. The healer said it might even be healthier for him, considering the neighborhood he was growing up in.

Now the time came for her to tell the only other man in her life. She looked at Oliver who was gently rocking the baby in his arms as they walked through the park.

"'ats roight, 'arry. Sleep whoyel ya can." He looked up. "'e smoiled at me."

"He likes you, Oliver." She tried to hold her smile. "Oliver, Henry and I were talking about moving to New England. What do you think of the idea?"

"Whot, and leave London?" he asked with a laugh. Harry cried at the sudden noise and Jenny took him to calm him down. "Sorry, Jenny."

"It's my fault. I caught you by surprise. I thought you would want to come with us. Henry thinks it's a wonderful idea. He likes you, too."

"But London's me 'ome?" Oliver said in surprise. "Whoy would I wont ta leave? Whoy would you? Ya can stay here. I can show 'arry the ins and out o' the town. 'e'll be as good as can be, jus' loike me." Oliver gave his best winning smile.

"Oliver, I don't want Harry to grow up to be like you." The words were out before Jenny realized what she had said.

Oliver staggered backward, as though he had been physically hit. Jenny saw the tears forming in his eyes as he suddenly turned and ran. He was still running as hard as he could when he disappeared from sight. But Jenny couldn't call after him. She had Harry in her arms. The baby had to come first.

She walked back to the flat and lay Harry in his crib. Once he was asleep, she went to the dresser to pick up her hairbrush. She had to do something and combing her hair was the first thing that came to mind.

Jenny looked in the mirror, and for one second she did not see her face. She could have sworn that she was looking at Molly Weasley.

Jenny Planck had grown up. The child of a year ago no longer existed except as a memory. The thoughts of the Burrow welled up inside of her, as they did from time to time, but this once she did not cry. She thought on the things that she remembered, finding those cherished moments that told her she was loved. These were the moments she would try to give her son.


Oliver found a deserted spot and sat against a wall, his legs pulled into his chest. Then he began to cry in earnest. This was not what he had planned. At one point he heard a noise and looked up to see a handkerchief being held before him. He took it, wiped his eyes and blew his nose, then looked at his benefactor. His eyes became saucers. "Fagin?"

The gnarly old man with the beard grinned back at him with yellow teeth. "Ah, Dodger. You remembers me, my dear."


The Duke of Cambridge poured a glass of brandy for the shaken Minister of Magic. He had been lured to the Empire by a simple request: If he would come and see what they had to show him, the Empire would then discuss the return of the school. He saw more than he wanted to.

Taking the glass with two hands, Minister Fudge drank it off in one gulp. "I have to ask," he said shakily. "What was the name of the village?"

"It was called Hogsmeade," the Duke said calmly. "And you are now one of a half dozen people who know that particular fact." When Fudge raised an eyebrow, he went on to explain, "No one ever thinks to ask, and these days the answer does not mean very much."

"I was born in Hogsmeade," Crouch said quietly.

The Duke poured another round of drinks. "We will officially turn the school back to you after the tournament is over."

"Of course, of course," Fudge said, as though that was obvious. "Do you really think you can stop Vo- Voldemort?"

"I only know what I have been told. We have taken steps to isolate supporters and potential supporters. Do you know Lord Darcy? He tells me that it is amazing what people will reveal if they think you are completely ignorant. It was very useful having you label us as a backward people. Thank You."

Cornelius Fudge gave him a wry smile. "I should thank you. Once the 'truth' is known, people will think I was a genius, not the bumbling fool I really am."

"Truth for truth, Minister. Our world bumbled quite a few things as well. Entering Lord Somerset in your tournament only to find out someone was trying to 'rig a bet'. And surely you must remember Lord MontClaire. We thought to give him a trifling honour, let him be called a lord."

Fudge actually laughed. "You didn't mean that to happen? That was almost as good as when I made that Captain Grissom teach girls. That blew up in my face." He paused as the Duke adopted a strange expression. "Your Grace?"

"I must apologize. I have known Peter Grissom for decades. For the life of me I can not picture how he would react. How many female students did he have?"

"Two," Fudge acknowledged, and this was too much for the Duke. He laughed for five full minutes before he could stop.


Lord Bontriomphe glared at his young charge standing in his office. "How did you ever manage to pull this off for so long?"

Lord London stood there, still in his street urchin clothes and bare feet. He knew that his guardian did not want an answer to that question, but he was also too smart for his own good. "Tha' Clerk was a spy a'roight."

Lord Bontriomphe's face became an interesting shade of reddish purple. Lord London understood that he had said the wrong thing. Then Lord Bontriomphe began to pale. "Oh, by God in Heaven Above. Please do not tell me, Darcy, that this boy is also the Dodger."

"I regret to say, Bontriomphe, that he is. At least he was." Lord Darcy, still dressed as Fagin, couldn't help but grin. "And I think he still needs to be."

"I must be losing my touch," Bontriomphe bemoaned. "He calls himself Oliver; He uses the alias of Dodger; He addresses his dispatches as 'Artful' observations. It was all in that book, and I was the one who gave it to him."

"Charles Dickens is a wonderful author," Lord Darcy said. "And quite descriptive. Young Oliver recognized me the instant he saw me."

"Ya was obvious," Lord London said.

"My Lord London," Lord Bontriomphe said without humour. "Do you know what you have done to me? We are at a crucial moment in this war. Your connection with this spy has become more important than you realize. And," he paused when he saw Lord London's grimy smile, "And you already figured this out."

"Fagin 'elped," Lord London said, trying not to smirk.

"He is staying in character," Lord Darcy said before his colleague could react. "And I should as well." His voice took on an oily tone. "Little Oliver is going to introduce me to this man. Aren't you, my dear? Yes. A man we can do business with."

"Is there anything else I should know?" Lord Bontriomphe's voice had a fatalistic tone.

Oliver/London looked at Lord Darcy/ Fagin, and Darcy nodded.

"My Lord Bontriomphe," Lord London said formally. "I was also the one who delivered the letter from Ginevra Weasley."

"And why did you not tell anyone you knew where she was?"

"She dint tell anyone," Lord London said, slipping back into his character. "No' even 'er 'usband."

Lord Bontriomphe began to stare again. Deep inside he wished that he had never been given the task of Guardianship over this child. "How long has she been married?"

"Tha' noight she came 'ere. An it took me two months ta get 'er to wroite tha' letter."

"There is something else you are going to tell me," Lord Bontriomphe said prophetically.

"Two things, actually," Lord Darcy interrupted. "She and her husband, Lieutenant Henry Planck, are the proud parents of a baby boy. Also, they are planning to move to New England and taking young Oliver with them."

Lord Bontriomphe smiled. "That is an excellent solution to our problems."

A/N: First, I thank everyone who has been reading. I think that's the least I can do because now you have to read this Author's Note. And I thank Wytil. I have had thoughts of other genres and original works, but all of that takes time.

To NightRain2, I apologize. It was not my intention in writing this story to have your mother make you read it. On a serious note, my ego is big enough to survive any number of reviews that you wish to post. (Secretly, we live for them.) You mentioned that another author was scared by the suggestion of posting each chapter. Personally, I feel honored when people give multiple reviews. It says to me that I haven't been wasting my time.

And I am not afraid of criticism. I am an amateur. I may hem and haw to defend my work, but I will listen and take things into account (although I won't admit this, as a rule).