Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the associated characters, and no profit is being made from the posting of this story.
Summary: See Previous Chapters
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
One good thing about Hogwarts had been Quidditch, so Sirius, Henry and Natasja didn't see the harm in purchasing tickets to the World Cup as a collective Birthday Present. Natasja would never understand why or how Magical folk (or the non-magical population, come to think of it – it looked like some things really did transcend all barriers) could be so obsessed with a sport, but at least it wasn't Quadpot.
The problem with Muggle-Repelling charms was that they could be bypassed if you had someone who wasn't affected grab on tight and drag a Muggle past said wards. Natasja was sure that she had looked more than a bit ridiculous when Henry simply picked her up, flipped her over his shoulder and calmly walked through when she tried to leave, convinced that she had forgotten something important. Sirius, floating the Grangers through, was certainly laughing hard enough to leave that impression.
No one was laughing after the match, when some people had celebrated a bit too hard and started what the Ministry called 'Muggle-Baiting', but Henry and Natasja called 'abuse, humiliation and assault of the most despicable kind'. Several of the Wizards probably later called it (when they regained consciousness) 'a quick path to concussions and broken bones'.
Well, on the bright side, at least one or more of them wouldn't be passing such views onto any potential future children. Henry didn't appreciate wizards who tried to make his wife part of the 'show'.
Lessons resumed in September, and everything was more or less quiet (magic was involved, so there was always a few explosions now and then), until Halloween, when a worried Hogwarts Professor showed up with the news that Harry had been entered into a contest of some kind and his presence was required at Hogwarts.
Understandably, both parents absolutely refused to let the Professor simply take him. Instead, they called Madam Bones and Sirius, left Hermione in charge, and gave Professor McGonagall the option of letting them accompany Harry, or going back empty-handed.
Muttering something in Gaelic that Natasja was pretty sure were swearwords, the Transfiguration Professor agreed, summoning what she called the Knight Bus. The 'conductor' didn't inspire confidence, and there were times that Natasja hated being right.
When they reached Hogwarts, Snape looked ready to start a rant about Harry and 'Potters who thought they were above the rules'. The Heads of the other schools (Professor McGonagall had filled them in on the way, in between hanging on for dear life) looked ready to demand why Hogwarts should get to have two champions.
Natasja cut them all off with a demand to know how her son's name had been drawn when he hadn't even been at Hogwarts this year or last, and the only time he had left Surry was on an overnight trip to London to see a play for Hermione's birthday.
The other School Heads, at least, paused at that, agreeing that it was suspicious, but Dumbledore and the other Tournament officials merely insisted that it was a binding contract and Harry would have to compete. One of the officials cringed at the glare Natasja levelled at him, while Henry asked what would happen if Harry didn't compete.
Apparently, whoever had created the tournament had been stupid enough to create a magical contract without setting a penalty, so no-one had any idea if it would do nothing, or kill Harry for not competing.
Madam Bones, upon arrival, was not happy, either, though that may have had something to do with the fact that she had arrived just as Natasja had been demanding answers to if this could happen to anyone else, and what was to stop it just picking a random student.
Susan Bones was a student at Hogwarts, and Madam Bones's niece, so she had been less than pleased at the possibility. She promised to investigate, but until then, it looked like Harry would be competing in the Triwizard Tournament, with the very clear understanding that if his life hadn't been potentially threatened, he wouldn't be within a ten mile radius of Hogwarts, and he certainly wasn't staying there in between tasks
When they returned home, Sirius started giving Harry and the others lessons involving a number of nasty curses that were borderline legal, and designed to make sure that the user was the one who walked off a battlefield, and Henry started teaching his adoptive son the kind of fighting that all police officers learned.
Hagrid had been chased out of the house at fresh-from-the-stove-skillet-point when he came to 'quietly warn them' that the first task Harry would be facing involved getting an egg away from a nesting mother dragon.
It had been Sirius's opinion that the organizers were clearly insane, as they should have learned their lesson. If a Muggle woman could take down Dumbledore and Bellatrix LeStrange in defence of her children, how would a dragon react if their eggs were threatened? He then joined the Irons' and Harry's friends in researching ways to get past Dragons.
The solution was to Summon a chunk of dry ice the size of a semi-lorry from where it had been placed outside the stadium immediately prior to Harry's turn, and banish it at the dragon. Dragons were reptilian and just as susceptible to the cold as their smaller relatives. The desired and most likely effect was that the dragon would become sluggish enough for Harry to get past without too much damage.
It worked, though there was a fair bit of disgruntled muttering about using Muggle equipment and such simple spells.
Harry bluntly informed them that he was Fourteen, at that level of spell work, and if they didn't like it, they could always disqualify him. Natasja had been very pleased and proud of him, and not just for his performance in the Task.
She was not so pleased when she was abducted while shopping in February, and woke up to find herself in the middle of the Hogwarts lake, with a worried Harry dragging her to sure, snarling about where the wizards could 'shove their bloody stupid Tournament' and seeing how they could explain their way out of this one.
Natasja would like to know the same thing, and would have liked to see how Dumbledore – a so-called Champion of Muggles and Minority Groups – dealt with the public finding out that he had abducted and deliberately endangered a Muggle.
Barty Crouch Jr., fresh from trapping and kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived, had faced a lot in his life. He had revelled and suffered as a Death Eater, spent a mercifully short time in Azkaban, followed by over a decade trapped under the Imperius Curse by his own father.
Somehow, the Muggle woman threatening him with a frying pan as she demanded to know what he had done with the Potter boy was even scarier than the Dark Lord in a bad mood. Worse yet, she was fixing him with the 'Mother Look', and the small part of him that would always be Victoria Crouch's son snapped to attention, blurting out the Graveyard in Little Hangleton.
He comforted himself with the knowledge that the woman he would maintain to the end he was NOT intimidated by and her Mudblood husband would almost certainly be too late to save the boy, and if they weren't, then the Dark Lord could have the pleasure of killing them himself.
He was unaware of two very important facts, however. One, that even a sheep can drive off a predator in defence of their young. Two, Natasja Irons was a lot more dangerous and resourceful than a mere sheep.
A curse hit the statue of an angel, breaking off part of the sword it held. It landed next to where Harry, who picked it up. It was roughly the shape of Henry's baton and about the same weight of the marble rolling pin that his mother kept around in case of Hostile and Unexpected magical company. He knew how to use both of those items, with or without his wand.
Voldemort was taunting him, but his father had said that a good copper lets the culprit talk, gets what information he can, and waits for the right moment to strike. Also, if you manage to get yourself in a situation where you're looking down the business end of a lethal weapon ("and be prepared to explain how you got in that situation in the first place to your mother and I, young man"), hope that you're facing an evil and/or twisted opponent, because evil and/or twisted people can't resist launching into monologue, which gives your partner or backup time to get there.
Voldemort was, in fact, going into a monologue about how it was unthinkable that a mere boy could defeat him and how he could never be killed, as he prowled among the gravestones. Harry listened carefully, trying to measure how far away the footsteps were. Did that mean that he had found a way of keeping alive? Ah, there!
"Come out, Harry Potter…" The self-styled Lord Voldemort held his arm and wand straight out in front of him. He was stalking the boy who had defied him and been the cause of his original downfall. Use of Legimency on Lucius Malfoy showed that attempts to attack or capture the boy in his home had been rebuffed by some kind of protection, though the effects seemed unlike any ward he had seen. No matter; the boy was not in his home, and stood no hope of – ARGH!
A length of very solid marble came down on his wand arm as Harry Potter leaped out from behind the nearest gravestone. The loathsome boy reversed his makeshift weapon and hit Voldemort in his other arm, breaking it. "That's Harry Potter-Irons, thank you very much."
This coincided with a loud 'CLANG' and a louder spell as two of his Death Eaters fell, revealing a blond man and a dark-haired woman. The woman was holding, of all things, a cast iron skillet. "I strongly recommend getting away from my son, before I rip your heart out and serve it with mayonnaise."
Did the woman even know who she was talking to? "How dare you speak to me like that? Who are you?"
By this time, the Potter boy had managed to sneak around to the pair, who were obviously suicidal if they thought they stood a chance against his Death Eaters. Oddly, however, said Death Eaters seemed strangely reluctant to attack them. The man took the opportunity to take down a few more Death Eaters as the woman smirked. "Natasja Irons. I'm Harry's mother."
Who had let the Boy-Who-Lived be adopted or fostered by a Muggle? In a few seconds, it wouldn't matter anyway. "Avada Kedavra!"
The jet of green light was deflected away by the polished metal, hitting Avery. The last thing Voldemort saw was the three of them disappearing by Portkey, and a skillet accelerating toward his head. It was closely followed by a steel kebab skewer, aimed somewhat lower, at an area that truly should be outlawed as a target.
He would bet that no other Dark Lord or Lady in history had to put up with a nemesis who kept acquiring mothers with a gift for demolishing evil plots! If they had, they should have had the common decency to leave a bloody warning note for their successors!
An angry stream of black smoke escaped the graveyard, planning something dire and painful for the woman who had just replaced Dumbledore near the top of his 'People To Kill' list.
When parents and child returned to Hogwarts, they didn't stay to answer questions (Madam Bones already had Crouch, Jr. in her formidable clutches, anyway), only informed Dumbledore and Fudge that they would be having words in the very near future, and headed straight home.
Under other circumstances, Harry would have protested that he was too old to be tucked in, but not tonight. He had no conscious memory of the night his birth-parents were killed, when Lily Potter had given her life to save his, but the sight of the Killing Curse aimed at his adopted mother, who had loved, cared for and raised him, would haunt his dreams for a long time.
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A/N: Another chapter up, and I hope you all enjoyed it! Yes, the chapter is late, and the next one probably will be too, but it's better than no update at all, right? As always, constructive criticism is appreciated, even if it's only to tell me WHY the story sucked.
Thanks, Nat