Last Time on Black and White:
Another thing that bothered Dumbledore was the look in Andrew's eyes, not the glare so much, even though it did house a look of rage Albus had only seen a few times before, no it was the colour of Andrew's eyes which made him nervous. Gone were the hazel orbs he had inherited from his father, replaced by bright grey, nearly silver eyes which shone brightly and angrily. What did that mean? Andrew had been a wild card for Albus since before he was born, he had no way of knowing if he would inherit the curse placed on his family or if it would skip him, but slowly Dumbledore was beginning to realise that Andrew seemed to be the next carrier of the damned curse, which had claimed the lives of many Potters and Georges over the past few centuries.
And now, with Andrew seemingly beginning to show symptoms of the curse leaking through, Harry would be in danger. He needed to talk to the raven haired boy and prepare him for what would happen next, which Albus hoped would eradicate the curse forever and give the boys a chance at a normal life.
Book 4 – Chapter 19: The Task at Hand
Harry sat in the Headmaster's office patiently for the man to return as he looked around the room, his eyes, first fell on Fawks who he scratched affectionately and received a happy trill from, he then went around the office, checking out the various nick nacks and what he assumed were magical items around the room.
He glanced back to the door and sighed when Dumbledore still hadn't come back. The Headmaster had asked Harry to make an appearance in his office and once Harry had arrived, he apologised and claimed that he had to speak with Snape but that he'd be back as soon as he could.
Harry continued looking around until he saw the sorting hat sitting on a ledge in the office.
"Ah... Harry Potter, one of my hardest sortings..." the hat said in way of greeting.
"Err, hello. What do you mean, 'hardest sortings'?" Harry replied with a frown.
"It's not easy sorting eleven year old children based on one of four traits... in all honesty, it's quite ridiculous. Bravery, Loyalty, Intelligence or Ambition, how many children have only one of these traits? How many have them all? Simply speaking it is impossible to sort based on those traits alone."
Harry listened in confusion, he didn't understand what any of this had to do with him or his sorting in particular.
"So I break it down; which house does the child have the most potential in? Do they value Bravery over Loyalty? Do they wish for knowledge for the sake of knowledge or do they wish it for a purpose? These are just some of the questions that pass before my decision is made."
"Okay? But didn't Andrew and I ask to be placed in Gryffindor? So how does that play in?" Harry asked, still not getting what the hat was trying to say.
"As did Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom, Miss Lovegood and Miss Clearwater, Miss Greengrass and Mr Zabini. These are just a few of the students who have altered my choices for their houses."
Harry blinked in shock. "Really? That many?"
"Yes, why Miss Granger would have made a fantastic Ravenclaw, wouldn't you agree?"
At Harry's nod, the hat continued.
"And yet she resides in Gryffindor, her bravery is unquestionable, yet she is fundamentally ruled by her mind. She wishes to change the world, and where Ravenclaw would have assisted her with knowledge unmatched and Slytherin would have assisted her with possible allies, albeit with a few restrictions, she chose Gryffindor as her stepping stone, fuelled by Dumbledore's achievements stemming from the same house. Some may not see how that warranted her a place at the lions table, but some do not see the bigger picture, even at eleven, Miss Granger knew of the challenges her choice would provide, even if at the time, they were rather naïve."
"Alright, but what does this have to do with me?"
"You were a challenging choice. Potentially you would have gone to Hufflepuff, for the unmatched loyalty you have to your brother; Andrew. Perhaps even Slytherin, for your rather ambitious dreams, a magical orphanage, hey? I suspect you're goals have changed somewhat, perhaps more in the realm of sports? Possibly even duelling? Or something to that effect? It doesn't matter, that fact is that I was torn between the choice for your potential or the choice of your heart. Ultimately I decided to go with your heart, and I am rather happy at the result."
Harry blinked again, he would've gone to Hufflepuff if Andrew hadn't suggested they go to Gryffindor?
"And what about my brother?"
"Oh, his mind was rather simple, he craved control and power... I have no doubt he would have found both of those in Slytherin, but not without negative setbacks, Gryffindor was my second choice for him, the fact that he chose it himself, made the decision rather convenient for me."
Harry frowned in thought, control and power? Andrew? But why?
"Ah, Harry, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long?"
Harry turned to see Dumbledore smiling at him softly.
"Oh, no sir, I was just, uh..."
"Talking with the sorting hat, yes. I suspect he's rather bored, he doesn't get to do much once the opening feast has concluded." Dumbledore stage whispered to Harry with a small smirk.
"Now then, please take a seat." Once Harry sat, Dumbledore continued. "Now Harry, tell me, how are classes going?"
"Err, alright, I suppose? It's been rather much, but I suspect that's due to the tournament and everything." Harry responded with a nod.
"Yes, quite." the Headmaster agreed with a slight head nod. "And your brother? Have you been to see him today?"
The raven haired boy froze in his seat for a bit before shaking his head, no.
"I understand, it was a rather problematic experience what happened in the hall this afternoon."
"I understand that, sir, really I do..."
"But...?"
Harry sighed. "But, McLaggen almost killed him, he was in the hospital wing for a few days after that, he's lucky he hadn't snapped his spine... So I understand where Andrew was coming from. And Malfoy was warned before Andrew, did what he did."
"Quite, I am sorry if I seem as though I am trying to blame your brother, that isn't the case."
"No, I understand, sir, Andrew isn't exactly innocent here either. I don't know, but he's never acted like this..."
"And your friends, how are they reacting to all of this?"
"Hermione and Ron are a bit shocked, Ron gets it, but Hermione... she hasn't said a word about Andrew since he snapped. I'm not sure about Luna and Su, though... they've been hanging out by themselves lately."
"Hmm, so do you believe Andrew reacted, correctly to this situation?"
Harry was silent for a while, his mind considering the question.
"I honestly, don't know."
Dumbledore was silent for a little while before opening a drawer in his desk and removing a wand.
"This is you're brother's could you hold it and tell me what you feel?"
When Harry nodded and took the wand from the Headmaster his brows furrowed again.
"It's warm, certainly, but not as bad as it was before."
Dumbledore sighed and looked back to Harry before showing the boy his open palm, which had a massive line of welts along the inside of it.
"Oh my God! Sir are you alright? Should I call for Madam Pomfrey?!" Harry asked in a panic.
"No, no, it is quite alright, Harry. Though I should mention, it was Andrew's wand which gave me these burns."
"What?! No..." Harry said as he began to argue.
"You said, the wand felt warm, and nothing else?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting him.
Harry paused before looking down at the dark wooded wand in his hands and nodding.
"Harry, phoenix feather's are extremely temperamental. Legendary phoenixes such as the Golden and Silver breeds are probably even more so. But they are not light creatures, this is a very large misconception caused by Fawks' bonding to me. Of course, it helps in the long run to create a narrative that Dark Lords or Evil people could not own one themselves. Thus keeping creatures capable of taking a person anywhere to those who wish to do them harm. But hear me well Harry, Phoenixes can become corrupted, twisted into beasts of devastating proportions. Harry, have you noticed anything... odd about Andrew or his behaviour lately?"
Harry paused, his mind racing. The obvious stood out when asked that question; Andrew's eyes, his actions this past year, the spike in his anger... he looked up at Dumbledore with a frown.
"I can assure you, Harry, I simply wish to help. That is all."
Harry was caught unaware, he didn't know what to do. On one hand, he knew Andrew would not appreciate him telling Dumbledore what was going on lately, on the other... the Headmaster might be able to shed some light on everything and help.
After a moment, Harry sighed.
"I guess it started back before second year, when Dudley tried to steal the ring Andrew got on Christmas the year before..."
HP-AP-HP-AP-HP-AP
The days flew by quicker than most were expecting, and before anyone could blink, it was the day of the first task. Andrew had been released from the Hospital Wing a day before but hadn't been seen by anyone. No one knew where to find him, which prompted the rumour that he had been expelled for beating McLaggen, banishing Finnegan and nearly cursing Snape. The attack on Draco hadn't mattered much as nobody really cared for the blond other than his small group of followers. That didn't mean Malfoy kept his theories quiet though as everyone headed out to the venue of the first task.
"Well, well, well, I don't see the unhinged psychopath anywhere, apparently he's been shipped off to Azkaban as we speak."
"Shut up Malfoy, your voice is giving me cramps." Harry replied shortly.
"Well, what do you expect? A deranged madman like that on school grounds would have been a danger to all of us. Hell, you lot shared a house with him. Bet you can sleep easier now."
"Big talk when he isn't here, hey? But you were just about pissing yourself when he grabbed you in the hall." Ron said with a smirk. "Oh the great Malfoy, pissing himself when faced with a beat down."
The blond sneered at that comment.
"Shut your mouth, Weasley! I could bury that impostor alive if I so chose to!"
"Then why don't you try." said a voice from behind Malfoy.
With a small shout, he and his little pose turned to see Andrew, dressed in red and gold colours glaring menacingly at the group.
"I thought I told you to fuck off and not be around me..."
"You think I'm scared of you, Potter 2?!"
"No, but not because you could beat me, but because you don't have the brain power to recognise the power gap between us."
"You little..."
"Iz zere a problem 'ere?" they turned to see Fleur standing a little a ways from them, her eyes bouncing between Andrew and Malfoy.
"It's none of your concern, Vee-"
There was a hard hitting sound followed by Malfoy clutching his throat and coughing violently. Andrew had stepped beside him and punched him in the throat. Hard.
"Fleur, I'm guessing they're looking for us in the tent?"
At her nod, he moved to follow her before he was stopped by Harry.
"Andy! Where the hell have you been?!"
"Sorry, I should've told you. I was somewhere safe. Can't really tell you about it, but I've been doing nothing but practising, so don't worry. I've got this." Andrew replied with a crooked grin.
Harry sighed. "Alright, but don't die out there, I don't want to have to deal with Ron asking about Fleur by myself." he said as he motioned to the wide eyed, gaping Ron beside him.
Andrew chuckled and gave Harry a quick hug. "Of course, I wouldn't do that to you. Oh by the way, have you seen Hermione anywhere?"
Harry sighed again and shook his head.
"Alright, maybe I'll catch her afterwards."
With that Andrew turned ignoring the still violently coughing Malfoy who was struggling to catch his breath and headed off to the champion's tent, while Harry dragged a still shell shocked Ron along with him.
As the two Gryffindors made their way to their seats Harry couldn't help but think on what Dumbledore had told him a few days before.
"Now Harry I wish not to alarm you, but I am worried about Andrew. His erratic behaviour and mood swings have made me question something I hoped had passed."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"Harry, Andrew comes from a cursed family." Dumbledore lifted a hand to stop the young man's argument. "I do not mean that in an insulting way; Andrew's family was cursed many, many years ago, before either you or I were born. When I learned of this curse I acted immediately to try and counteract it, but it would seem as though I have not found a way to stop it yet."
"Well, what can we do, sir?"
"Harry I need you to keep an eye on your brother, after the first task, I have asked Professor Flitwick to give Andrew private lessons to help him control his magical outbursts. I believe our Charms professor – having a better sense of tuning magic than myself – will be able to help him rein in his magic."
Harry seemed to think on it for a moment before nodding his head in understanding.
"Unfortunately until Professor Flitwick has deemed Andrew's core stable enough, he will not be able to assist both of you simultaneously."
Harry couldn't help but agree with Dumbledore on his thoughts, they made sense and were logical.
"How can I help professor? Andrew's my brother, so I feel like I should be doing something to help as well."
"Yes, I was just about to mention, I believe telling Andrew about this, may not be the best at the current moment, perhaps at a later date; when the tournament is over and he does not have the stress of the media and conspiring school mates to worry about. However, seeing as you are directly affected by this and because should I or Professor Flitwick be unavailable to help, I have decided to offer you some private lessons myself."
Harry looked up at the Headmaster in shock. "Really? You?!"
"Yes, while I realise that I may be getting on in years now, I think I will be a rather fair replacement for Fillius."
"No! I wasn't saying that it was a bad thing, sir... just, I figured you'd be too busy with other responsibilities you may have."
"While I admit, my schedule may not always be the best, I will do everything I can to teach you, my boy."
"Thank you, sir!" Harry responded happily as he got excited over the prospect of being taught by The Albus Dumbledore.
"..rry! Harry!"
"Hmm? Sorry what?" Harry asked as he turned to look at an annoyed looking Ron.
"I've been calling you for ages mate! Everything alright?"
"Yeah, sorry, just... thinking."
"Okay, anyway, have you seen Hermione anywhere?"
Harry looked around the stadium which was rather full at the moment but still had some students trickling in.
"No, I wonder where she is..."
"Yeah, it's about to start soon, she'd better get here soon if she doesn't want to miss anything."
Harry simply nodded along with Ron's assessment, Hermione seemed to be in her own little world ever since the incident in the Great Hall. It looked as though she had a heavy load on her mind and was trying to work through it.
"How do you think Andrew knows Delacour? Figure if I ask, he'd put in a good word for me?" Ron asked once more snapping Harry from his thoughts.
"Probably not. I don't think you're her type, Ronald."
Harry and Ron spun around to see Luna and Su sitting right behind them as though they were there the entire time.
"What do you know?" Ron asked, his ears turning slightly pink.
"Oh, I'm not trying to be mean, really. I just don't think you'd be her type."
"Why? Cause I'm not good looking enough, or because the Weasley's are too poor?"
"Don't be ridiculous, everyone is entitled to their personal choice of potential partner. For example; would you date Parkinson if she were in say, Gryffindor?" Su chimed in from her place next to Luna.
"Wha- Of course not!"
"Why not? Let's be honest, Parkinson isn't as bad looking as we say she is. In fact, what makes her so undesirable is her attitude and Malfoy worship."
"Well she hates muggleborns doesn't she? And I don't think Harry would appreciate her insulting his mother nor would Hermione appreciate herself being insulted all the time." Ron responded with a frown.
"Exactly, you wouldn't date her because she doesn't fit the influence you want for your life. Again not because she's ugly, but because you know she wouldn't blend well with you. Now that's what Luna is saying; whenever you see Delacour you can barely speak... yes we saw the interaction before you guys came to the stands, she really doesn't like that - if the look on her face was anything to go by - so she would probably turn you turn just from that alone. Ergo; not her type." Su explained.
Ron frowned at that and turned back to the stadium, Harry could see the thoughtful look on his best mates face and wondered what was currently going through his mind when the sound of a cannon blast went through the air.
HP-AP-HP-AP-HP-AP
Andrew entered the champion's tent after saying goodbye to his brother and motioned for Fleur to enter before him. When he got in the tent he noticed Krum pacing the room while Cedric sat on his bed staring at his hands intensely.
"The atmosphere in here is pretty suffocating." he murmured to Fleur, who sighed.
"Vhat do you expect? Ve are all very scared. Dragonz are no joke."
"No, I understand that." he responded with a nod before muttering. "Stupid fucking tournament."
Fleur smiled as she heard him and patted him on the shoulder.
"I vill see you after ve 'ave completed ze task, oui?" she asked him with a firm look.
"Of course! I don't plan on dying for the amusement of others." he replied with a smirk.
Fleur nodded to him and went on her way, Andrew assumed to collect her own thoughts. He looked around and saw Cedric too in the zone for a conversation, and Andrew would much rather feed himself to a Dragon before actively seeking out the company of Krum, so he decided to head to the back of the tent where he would get something to drink. Hopefully he wouldn't need to piss just before going to face his Dragon.
As he poured himself a glass of water he heard whispers from behind the tent. Curiously he headed towards the sounds until he was right beside the material.
"Andrew? Is that you?" A voice whispered.
"Err, yeah? Who is this?" he asked frowning in confusion.
"It's Hermione. Listen, I just want to say... good luck out there."
"Thanks, but why are you hiding?"
"I didn't know how to face you after what happened in the Hall, I know you were upset and were reacting emotionally, but it really scared me, Andrew. I've never seen you with that... look on your face, it was like you weren't there and we were fighting some sort of... monster."
Andrew was silent for a moment.
"I know, I'm sorry, it's just... you know with everything that's been going on lately, I just kinda lost my shit there..."
"No, what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry, you're my best friend, have been since first year. I know you better than you probably know yourself and I was scared, but I know you would never intentionally hurt someone, you are not a monster." Hermione finished in a small voice.
"Thank you, I- I needed to hear that. I'm glad we became friends."
The moment he said those words, Andrew felt himself being squeezed tightly as a large bunch of hair obscured his vision.
"Oh Andrew!" she exclaimed as she held him tightly.
There was a sudden burst of light and the pair were blinded for a second before Rita Skeeter appeared.
"Oh, would you look at this, young love. How very sweet." the reporter's sickeningly sweet voice cried out.
"Miss Skeeter, we are just friends. She came to wish me good luck. Nothing else." Andrew stated, as he tried to control his temper at the woman.
"You are not allow 'ere, zis tent is just for champions, and friendz." a deep voice boomed from behind Skeeter making her jump in surprise.
Andrew sneered slightly at the sight of Krum but kept his animosity at bay.
"Ah, yes, of course, I shall go to the reporters box then. Toodles." she said in a tone that made Andrew want to rip out her vocal cords before she left through the flaps of the tent.
"Herminniny, are you okay?"
"Yes, thank you, Viktor."
Andrew blinked in surprise as he eyes darted between the two.
"Since when is he 'Viktor'?"
"I do not believe zat iz any of your business." the burly seventeen year old responded.
"Well, considering she's my best friend, I believe it is my business, Krum."
Hermione grabbed Andrew's arm and answered his question.
"Viktor's been helping me with my school work in the library."
"What?! Since when? Why not come to me?"
"You were busy with your preparation, I didn't want to get in the way of that." Hermione told him softly.
"But... You know I wouldn't have minded."
"I do know that, but I would've felt bad if you put your stuff on hold just for me..."
"And das iz vhere I offered my assistance..." Krum cut in, smiling at sweetly at Hermione.
Andrew shot the boy another glare and was about to respond when Fudge entered the champion's tent.
"Alright, champions gather around!"
"I'll be in the stands cheering for you, please be safe." she said as she planted a soft kiss on Andrew's cheek. "You as well, Viktor."
"Zank you for ze concern, Herminniny."
As Hermione smiled at the two boys before she turned and left the tent quickly.
"It's Hermione. Her-mi-oh-nee, you bloody moron." Andrew shot at Krum before walking over to join the others and Fudge, completely missing the look of anger on the Bulgarian's face.
"Now then, seeing as Mr Crouch will not be able to join the proceedings of the tournament any longer, I will be here as acting judge on his behalf, now in this bag there are four miniature versions of the Dragons you will be facing today. Your task is to bypass the beast and retrieve a golden egg in it's nest."
Andrew stared at the man before him in complete shock and disbelief. Honestly, how could the adults in this world be so fucking obtuse.
"You will be scored on your technique, execution, timing and success during this task. Now then, Ms Delacour, if you would be so kind as to reach in."
Fleur looked at the bag frightened, which was completely understandable in Andrew's opinion, they could effectively be choosing their preferred breed of death. Once she pulled out her fist she opened it to reveal a tiny, brilliant green scaled little demon.
"Ooh, the Welsh Green. Mr Diggory?"
Cedric looked over at Fleur's face and turned to look at Andrew before nodding and reaching into the bag.
"The Swedish Short-Snout, excellent choice, my boy! Now Mr Krum."
Without looking nervous at all Krum sunk his hand into the bag and Andrew decided he would try this religion thing again, as he silently prayed for Krum to get the Horntail.
"Ah, the Chinese Fireball, and that leaves, Mr Potter!"
Andrew immediately abandoned his belief as he reached in and winced when the little Dragon inside blew fire at his fingertips.
"The Hungarian Horntail! Now you have all selected your Dragons, when the cannon sounds, we will be starting with Mr Diggory." Fudge said with an eager grin before he nodded to the champions and left the tent to presumably join the other judges.
The four stood still in the circle they had formed and regarded one another silently until a loud boom sounded from... somewhere.
Cedric sighed heavily and froze once more when they heard the roar of the Short-Snout coming from the stadium.
"Hey Ced, don't forget, you have to come back so can kick your arse at Quidditch over the summer." Andrew said shooting the boy a small smile.
Cedric's shoulders relaxed slightly as he shot the boy a smile of his own. "You mean so that I can kick your arse." And with that last comment Cedric headed through the flaps of the tent which led to the arena.
