"Hi, everyone!"

Wait, what was going on? Sirius dragged his eyes away from the screen where Fleur had just been incapacitated and popped away — her mother's, tense, heavy anxiety flooding the area around their seats as she demanded to know what the elves had done to her, despite her...cousin-in-law's(?) attempts to calm her, assuring her that her eldest daughter wasn't seriously injured. (Honestly, Sirius still wasn't entirely certain how Chloé and Appoline were related, but he also didn't really think it mattered.) No, Lise didn't know exactly what the elves had done, but she was sure (as was Sirius) that they wouldn't have used any magic that would harm a guest, any more than they would harm a member of their own House.

The Black elves in particular were forbidden to use even defensive magic against their humans or interfere in 'disciplinary matters' — which effectively meant that Bella and Meda, and later Sirius himself, had been on their own dealing with their parents as kids) —or disputes between adult members of the House, but he was fairly certain all elves would consider it some sort of heinous crime to attack a visitor. Even one who had just broken the rules by setting another champion on fire. (And he was pretty sure that lightning had been pulled into the spell — if it hadn't been, the elves would've been zapped the same as Fleur.)

He threw some chill vibes into the mental space around them, just in case it helped. Slightly absently, because most of his focus was on a young girl's voice. It had been projected, like the music which had served as the back-drop of the Task, from one of the screens...that one.

The girl, who had to be a Greengrass, gave them a jaunty wave and a deceptively sweet smile.

"I just wanted to make a shout-out to my sister — hi, Daphne! — and my parents and cousins out there in the audience and Blaise and Mira because they're practically family, too, and Gabbie because she's great—" Sirius could just imagine the bouncy little moon-kissed veela, who was watching the task with her friends from Beauxbatons, squealing and clapping to be remembered and mentioned (assuming she wasn't too worried about her sister, he supposed). "—and Professor Snape because he's too serious all the time—" He cracked up at that, despite the lingering external anxiety. He was sure wherever the dour dungeon bat was, he was fuming. "—and Cari and Mandy and Ria — yes, this is what I've been so sneaky about the last few days, I'm on the Hogwarts Team, how cool is that!" Sirius was sure they would all be appropriately jealous over dinner. "And Fred and George and Maïa, I could use a diversion at Durmstrang, please and thank-you!"

"Ha!" That was fucking great! Just...the audacity of that move, right there...

Sure, no one else was likely to have a line of communication open with the spectators in the stands, but it was still just...delightful. That was fucking delightful. If the kid weren't about twelve, he'd buy her a drink, just because he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone so openly flaunting the fact that they were gaming the system.

The music returned to full volume as the elf recording her obviously realised they were being used, turning their omnioculars back to the flickering flames, not entirely smoothly.

Mini-Malfoy, still gaping at the now-innocuous screen, looked appalled, probably for the same reason Sirius was so amused. "Dark Powers," he muttered, before shaking his head. "Why would they want Astoria...?" he mused.

"I'm sure you would know better than I, my son," Narcissa said, with a surprising degree of patience. Who would've thought she'd be a decent parent? (Well, decent in the sense that she wasn't an abusive twat like their own parents — she hadn't actually managed to turn Mini-Malfoy into anything resembling an adult, and he was already fourteen, but.) "She is in your House, and you spent some time talking to her at Mirabella's latest wedding, did you not?" she asked absently, her attention clearly more focused on Lyra's ongoing battle with the Cæciné girl. (Her stunt-flier had been sniped by a gout of veela-fire out of nowhere — it seemed there was at least one just circling above the fray, keeping an eye on things and informing the others of their progress.)

"I did, yes, but she's only a second-year!"

And, Sirius would be willing to bet, very good at whatever it was Little Bella had her doing down there.

Before he could say as much, though, another flicker of spellight and motion caught his eye — not on the screen but in the stands, down near Gin and her brother, the twin who had just reported second-year Astoria's message to Emma's daughter down there in her fortress, violence breaking out again as more students took exception to the Weasleys' little trick. Most of them, presumably, hadn't noticed Hogwarts reacting to information they shouldn't have earlier, but now the Greengrass girl had pointed it out...

Yeah, that was going to be a problem.

And it was a problem he couldn't help with, because unlike earlier the fighting wasn't dying down, snuffed out by immediate retaliation from the surrounding Gryffindors. This time, it was spreading, more people noticing and using the excuse to throw curses at other areas of the stands, and much as he wanted to go rescue his spitfire apprentice, that would mean leaving the group he was escorting — including four witches who were definitely not fighters, and several others with unknown degrees of combat skill (including Meda and Cissy, he had no idea the last time either of them had been in a serious fight), his muggle Wizengamot Representative, one small child, and Cissy's useless spawn — surrounded by unknown numbers of potential hostiles — they were in the visitors' section, along with hundreds of other nobles and dignitaries, many of whom, Sirius was certain, would love to exact revenge on the House of Black for one thing or another, not to mention those who had a problem with the Malfoys or veela — with a single young auror and Filius Flitwick for protection.

Not that Flitwick was a bad fighter — he wasn't a full-time league duelist anymore, but he hadn't been when the Marauders were in school either, and he'd still kept his hand in. Sirius would be shocked if the tiny Charms professor had let himself get rusty in the past fifteen years. But he was still a duelist, used to fighting with rules against a single opponent — not exactly the sort of fighter well-suited to crowd-combat, or protecting people in the midst of what looked to be shaping up as another riot.

"Cissy," he said, trying not to sound pleased. When her head snapped around to look at him, he tilted his own toward the wave of disturbance making its way around the stands, more pockets flaring up as people realised what was going on. "In or out?"