Chapter 19 Flight Trials

**OO**

Thanks to my wonderful Beta, LtsHrIt4ThBoyz.

**OO**

Sir Harry Potter, Knight of the Order of Merlin, Defender of the Faith, Champion of the Innocent scowled at the swirling binding magic. Death magic.

Everything in him despised the Goblet of Fire. And he could understand why Luna had called it a Goblet of Fire and Blood as clearly it was charmed during a dark ceremony. The power of blood sacrifice. Very Dark Magic.

Watching the map and waiting for the opportune moment, the Knight of the Order was about to steal it when George and Fred Weasley stopped him."If you get caught, all sorts of badness happens. If I get caught, it's a prank, and I'll lose some points. Maybe serve detention."

Fred offered to help by setting off a prank on the other side of the castle as a diversion. It didn't take long, and soon they were in the clear.

Harry handed over the Goblet Minerva had made to George. It even had an illusion of flames. Anyone with mage sight would see the difference, but Dumbledore's power was waning.

George made the switch. The only slips of paper in the new goblet were the ones that Luna had said should be the real champions, and anyone adding new would be disappointed as those would be banished.

But Hermione's name or anyone else was not going in that Monstrosity! And Dame Rebecca promised she would drop it off in a volcano just as soon as she could.

Britain would put away the Goblet after the drawing ceremony, and the next time the casket was opened several years later, they would discover the 'theft' and would be left with a simple grail.

A small wooden cup. Not the original, but a copy of one used in a very different similitude of blood ceremony. Light as Light can be.

**OO**

A small panic had occurred with the disappearance of a member of staff. No one could find him, and his office was empty.

The great historian Bathilda Bagshot showing up on Hogwarts doorstep for classes the next day was certainly not expected except by the Headmaster himself.

The deputy headmaster sneered at her, but said nothing as he led her to the staff room. There was an emergency meeting over a core class' professor gone missing.

"Bathilda! How are you?" Dumbledore rose to greet the woman far more warmly than he had Minerva, Filius noted.

"Albus. I received an anonymous note asking me to fill in as a history teacher for a while. It looks like your handwriting?"

"Well, yes, you see, we have a situation here."

"Fine, fine. Yes. I'll do it. On one condition, non-negotiable. I'll have a magical oath from you."

"Professor Bagshot!" Snape snapped.

"No, it's quite alright, Severus. What is this condition?" Dumbledore asked.

"I assign my own book as a history book. It's not that expensive. The newest edition. The school can afford it since you offered me the same salary Binns is getting. Which I presume is nothing?" Bagshot watched the others. Oh yes, they were already in the know about little Albie's ways.

Albus had the decency to blush a little. "Well, with tuition down, fewer muggleborns attending..."

"Albus Dumbledore! I watched you grow up, need I remind you?! Hmmph. Well? I didn't demand a salary. Just the book."

The Headmaster quickly gave his oath, and the newest Hogwarts professor made her way down to the history office.

'Poor, poor Albus. He really should have looked into the publishing of my newest book before he took that oath.' Bathilda muttered to herself.

'The True History of the Britons' was set out on each desk. The sponsor of the books was nearby. And currently dealing with a teenage, love-sick veela.

**OO**

The selection ceremony went off without a hitch. Harry was proud of George for how he acted. Cool under pressure. Fred too. What knights they would have made; but what a huge waste of talent that would be! No, the Order needed them as consultants while they were in school and part-time boffins with the cover of running a prank shop.

They could work on their inventions, consulting occasionally with the brainiacs of the Order who made all of their wonderful toys.

**OO**

The Order of Merlin Flight Trials required riding astride hippogriffs. Lance, bow and spell shooting. All at minimum speed, or even if the target was hit, it would be marked zero.

The boffins were constantly trying to improve equipment, and the newest saddles triple checked.

Harry was nervous only due to the fact that this was the last trial of being a full knight. Special permission to have it at Hogwarts had been given. Sir Hector was far too smug, and Sir Rodney looked like he was ready to crow. Both felt that this test in and of itself would be a great recruiting drive.

In order to make sure that no one complained about 'special treatment', clinics were offered to any and all that wanted to try the scaled-down course, riding brooms of course, instead of beasts. The three days of classes were well attended by all of the schools

Then the courses were closed so that the champions could practice for the task. All except Harry of course. He had offered to help the other champions at first, but then the judge from the Ministry came and banned the young knight from doing so. He was barely allowed to watch the others from a distance. After all, he was from the school sponsoring the event, and the pink toad would not condone cheating!

**OO**

"Next on the agenda is an appeal regarding the Triwizard Tournament. We are met in secret conclave, and remind the members not to reveal the task in advance. Charles Arthur Weasley, Xenophillus Lovegood, you may approach!"

Charlie was nervous, but his brothers were at Hogwarts, so nodded to the members and began speaking. "I work at the Romanian Dragon Preserve. I have been sent here as a representative to appeal the use of nesting mothers in a tournament. Especially as transporting their eggs could damage the embryos, and we could lose them all."

Charlie floated copies of the request to each person on the panel who read it in horror.

"What?!" "NO!" "Who authorized this?" exploded from the member's table that they faced.

"Xenophillus Lovegood, we know that you are a Magizoologist, and you are a known associate of Newt Scamander's. You are recognized as an expert in the field. Can you confirm this idiotic request?"

"Yes, I was asked to aid in the transfer of these dragons. Provide the necessary parchment and whatnot for the ministry. It's beyond cruel to use a nesting dragon. I appeal the use of these magnificent beasts at all."

"We will discuss this. Unfortunately, ancient rules do allow for dragons to be used. However, I think limiting it to older drakes, perhaps dragons ready to cull? Well. Your request is granted with a vote of thanks for your service. It will be noted."

Xeno bowed regally, Charlie attempting a good copy, and they were dismissed.

Neither were happy that dragons would be used at all, but at least they wouldn't risk losing precious, endangered baby dragons!

**OO**

Harry was feeling twitchy as Fleur got ready to ride her broom through the longer and more dangerous course. Their practice had gained attention. Many students sat in the stands, snacking and cheering. Now the veela was going to try the more difficult course. At least her parents were here to reason with her.

"Fleur, please!" Jean-Claude Delacour begged. "Please! Take the safer course. Just practicing this one is dangerous."

Sir Harry took his responsibilities seriously and had sent the man a Patronus when the girl showed up for this.

"Papa! You worry too much! I am very good on a broom." Fleur declared.

She was no fairy princess, and wanted to show the world her talent!

Madam Delacour had come out as well. She looked extremely pale, but what mother wouldn't be worried about her child. Soon, a concerned Madam Maxime joined her in the stands. Dumbledore himself trailed after her, along with not a few of the staff as it was the weekend.

Fleur started well; the girl could fly.

The course had moving and static targets. Hitting the transfigured lions or wolves gained points. A crup or kneazle lost points. The animals were scattered throughout the foliage in the first part of the run, and then came the swinging booms trying to knock you off. They also had to be hit.

Sometimes it was best to go over, sometimes under, and both had targets. If you missed, you could circle back, but time mattered as well.

None of the other contestants used bows or ranged weapons of any kind, but her spells were hitting the mark.

Then came the gauntlet of the steeplechase. Some targets near the ground, obstacles to go over and under, all combined with spellfire coming at you. This is where live spellcasters would be joining the training dummies for the knight's trial. Harry's stomach dropped. There were live casters out there now, and they weren't from Ecole Merlin!

Harry immediately summoned help. Sir Jerome and Sir Hector had been sitting with Harry and were able to disable two of the attackers immediately. Then a barricade went up between spectators and the course. Dumbledore didn't look happy that two knights had fired on citizens unknown, even if they weren't supposed to be there.

The warded barricade didn't stop physical objects, so the two knights unshrank emergency brooms and went hunting live casters very quickly. They didn't interfere with the course, or Miss Delacour's progress, though they did use a physical shield on the last caster's curse.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Stone split everywhere, but the caster was caught. Sir Jerome clearly wanted to kill the one casting such curses at a student, but captured the person instead.

All of the people casting had been caught. Five wizards and one witch. The suspects were brought to the aurors providing security at Hogwarts.

"How dare you interfere with the preparation for the task!" Ambassador Umbridge shouted. "It's bad enough we had to put up with that, that, that thing being allowed to enter. Well, I for one won't put up with it. I will petition that she be banned."

"What?" Madam Maxime demanded. "Were you watching what I was watching? She was not supposed to 'ave spells shot at her! And 'oo in the world would authorize the killing curse?!"

"I'm sure it was just an illusion. Green sparks."

"Green sparks don't disintegrate stone like that." Sir Hector stated calmly.

"Oh, why don't you go back to your jungle, or island or something!" The racist woman called out. Sir Hector looked at his former squire who just laughed.

"It was an accident, I'm sure" the woman continued, sneering. "Likely practicing for when we have the Great Wizard Harry Potter coming through!"

"So, are you planning on changing the Boy-Who-Lived title to Boy-Who-Was-Killed in a school tournament?" An adult yelled that Harry didn't know.

"Please summon those in charge of the Tournament, now! I would like to appeal your unfair attitude towards the girl. And I also want to file an auror's report on the attempted murder of a student." Sir Hector stated with some heat.

"Sir Hector! Mind your tone. This lady is clearly distraught over the attempted murder of a student just as much as you. Something nefarious is going on. And I am sure that she just wants to help. Please? You do want to help? Yes?" Sir Jerome directed that last plea to the judge in bright pink.

The woman started to insult this knight as well, but had never seen such a handsome man. And he was smiling at her.

"Of course, of course." The woman patted her head to make sure that the wig was straight. She'd get whoever had spiked her juice! "Maybe I was a bit hasty. Yes, let's turn these people over to the aurors. Likely under the imperius, waving wands at children like that." She gushed unctuously, batting her eyes coquettishly at the handsome knight.

"There, you see? We're all friends here." The knight purred gently. All the while attempting to swallow his bile at the role he was being forced to play in the name of 'peace'.

The knights had been warned to tread softly. But it was hard when people turned a blind eye to that sort of attack. The Order had all heard of such things. After all, look at the way that Sister Gisele's death had been swept under the carpet.

But to see an actual murder attempt, and watch the pureblood elite say it didn't happen?

The High Council would have to be contacted immediately. Sir Harry made his way over to Madam Delacour to beg the woman to remove Fleur from that course or get the French aurors involved or something.

Harry Potter seethed. The feelings of powerlessness were not ones that he enjoyed in the least, and he knew he was under the most scrutiny of any of them there. He dared not get kicked out before he finished his tasks.

**OO**

"Narcissa! Are you mad?! Do you realize who that witch was? Who her parents are?"

"I am very well aware of who her parents are. I am also aware of Draco's interest in a completely unsuitable match!"

"Why? Because she is Veela?" Lucius could understand his son's interest. He actually supported it.

"Do you want grandchildren that go 'peep, peep'?" The angry witch demanded, suddenly looking more like Bellatrix than she ever had before.

"If you remember, Draco is Head of House Black and is heir to House Malfoy. Let him have his veela if he wishes. Especially if it gives the Dark Lord what he wants, what we all want." Lucius tried calmly.

"No! I forbid it!" Narcissa stamped her foot. "Absolutely NOT!"

"You have no choice. Accept it. Plans are in motion already. And stop trying to kill the girl!" Lord Malfoy commanded.

Her defiant eyes said that she would obey him on the second of Never. And he had no clue how to stop his homicidal spouse.

"Narcissa! Think! Allowing her to live after what we obtain will be no sacrifice! She won't ever live with us here; you'll never see her. She can be put anywhere in the world. Think of the gains of such a match."

Her glare would have melted titanium if she knew what that was.

"Now, I have a folder of witches from age eleven through twenty-five that have no contracts. Please. Why don't you pick a suitable bride for your house? Please?" The folder was extended to her by magic. No reason to risk anything.

"You have no idea what you are playing with Lucius. But yes, I will pick a witch for House Black. But mark my words, you'll never get a match with Fleur Delacour. Never."

**OO**

After seeing a student shot at with live fire, Cedric decided on the short course. While a solid and decent quidditch player, Hogwarts did not have a history of great Defense courses, and he had never practiced shooting while flying until the course had been set up for practice.

Diggory got in a couple of lucky shots, and one of those was on a static crup. No one knew that his uncle's crup always tried to bite the boy, and he counted it as a fair target!

But he stayed on the broom, and Hogwarts cheered him loudly.

Fleur, red and embarrassed, also chose the short course, but it looked like her mother might have had something to do with that decision.

Parvati was overheard telling Lavender that she heard that Lisa Turpin had said that Fleur complained about not being allowed to get new robes for the New Year's French Ministry Ball and would have to re-wear her current robes if she didn't cooperate.

The girls all gasped at such wretched tactics to force someone to do something, while the knights in earshot rolled their eyes. Harry could see this becoming a thing at the dinner table. 'I have to re-wear this same tunic. Oh, woe is me!'

The Ambassador was overheard saying that she planned to deduct points for her earlier cheating in the practice rounds. In other words, since Miss Delacour survived the killing curse, she should be penalized!

Fleur mounted her broom. The short course was far easier than the long one, and it had been triple checked for hidden wizards. Aurors, mounted on brooms, were flying on a higher level to keep an eye on things.

Harry saw Tonks and was amazed. The girl might have awkward moments on the ground, but was quite graceful in the air. She could fly!

The veela, with a strong cheering section of admirers that included Draco Malfoy, took to the course, her hair streaming like a banner behind her.

She hit every target! And didn't hit a single negative one.

She did it far faster than Diggory had.

A very decent run, well done, not that Harry admired anything but the performance.

The teenage boys in the stands would have totally disagreed with him on that.

**OO**

Harry didn't get to watch Krum's run on the more difficult course. Again, it was checked for live fire and was protected.

The professional player had flown well, hit everything that moved so racked up a lot of negative points, but wasn't knocked off his broom when he was hit by a quintain.

The boy rolled with the blow and recentered himself. That earned him a lot of cheers there, and he finished in a decent time.

Harry did the fast course as well. That was the course required for the trial. He didn't hit anything he shouldn't, ducked the homicidal quintain, and took out the last surprise lion.

Harry shuddered a minute worried about what Flitwick would do to their training seeing the improvement that Professor McG had had for them.

The first trial was over. He had time to grab some water and a quick snack and meditate for a bit.

It was the waiting that was worse on nerves than the actual event.

Harry didn't like to wait one bit.

**OO**

Spectators from all three schools had come, bringing their friends and family. For Ecole Merlin, the students and staff were their friends and family.

Harry was a full knight. He didn't have to pass the flight trial today, or even five years from now.

Fleur approached him in advance of the third event, a long white scarf in her hand. She must have gone to the library.

The dust hadn't had long to settle over her run in the practice games when the incident was labeled as an accident. An accident! Fleur had done quite well in her practice run especially considering that she was being targeted. She was clearly upset at being forced to run the short course for the First Task of the tournament.

She eyed the white scarf already on his arm that Hermione had given him and frowned. But she continued forward.

"I offer my favor as a gift. I too wait for the right time to bond, and with a worthy man. This is a token of friendship. You do treat me as a queen, and I am honored." Fleur said in French as she held out the bit of silk. Only one of the girls would have noticed that it had no personal embroidery as was truly needed for it to have meaning.

"My lady, I cannot accept this token, even as a friend. I have a girl at home whose scarf is on my arm, whose thoughts fill my mind, whose magic is my armor, and whose love fills my heart. I can offer you nothing that you want, and I will not lead you falsely."

She pouted, clearly wanting a kiss, and made her way back to the sidelines. He made sure that Hermione's scarf would not get in the way of any of the upcoming challenges.

Harry didn't know what Jean-Claude and Fleur Delacour were playing at, but for now, he would assume it was politics, and practice in public now for Court at home. He did not need this right now; he needed to concentrate.

'I ride in your honor on this day, my love.' Harry thought to himself, picturing Hermione cheering for him. George had offered to let her watch from his mirror, but Harry wasn't sure whether she was or not.

"Good luck, Potter! Hope you get scorched out there!" The blond ponce called.

"Draco Malfoy, I thought I smelled your foul stench coming into this place. You still haven't been completely potty-trained. Pity. Mind your manners or be tossed from here. Ecole Merlin is sponsoring this event. And providing the mounts. Stay away from the hippogriffs, they are dangerous. I won't put up with the likes of you. Not today. Too bad you aren't old enough to challenge to a real duel."

Harry thought he saw a flash of red eyes, just for a moment. Must have been the September sun.

The Potter heir was a boy no longer and looked to the judge. He knew his rights.

"I request that Pettigrew, Snape, any Malfoy, and anyone else here to jeer, be expelled from this place. We were asked to come."

The judge was a man from Kenya, honored to be chosen in the draw. A retired knight who had served faithfully and then returned to his homeland to marry, raise his family, and serve in politics.

"I judge your request fair." The judge cast a sonorous charm. "Any Malfoy is requested to leave before the wards expel you. Pettigrew, please leave this place. As for the others, the wards are based on intent. If you hope to see Sir Harry hurt, please leave. If you are here to see him victorious, please stay and feel free to cheer. Quietus."

The transfiguration teacher nodded his head and looked sad. "I came to cheer you, Sir Harry, but will honor your wishes."

Harry bowed his head. He felt Peter's sorrow. What was he thinking? Hadn't he been asked to forgive the repentant?

It was rather a Commandment.

"My apologies, Mr Pettigrew. Please forgive me. I have not yet forgiven you, and that is on me. Please, stay if you wish. I promise to work on my temper. You are welcome to watch."

The judge nodded, and Peter, also known once as Wormtail, sat back down.

The Malfoy boy stayed, as did the bookends. This was not wise, as when the wards were activated, they were flung across a space of about five meters, and landed painfully on their… they landed painfully.

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were joined by a couple of girls from Ravenclaw and one other teacher. Snape had not even tried to attend, but the Headmaster of Durmstrang wanted to watch the boy die.

Karkaroff had wisely moved past the marked ward boundaries. He could judge and give the boy a zero from here just as well as from the stands, not realizing that his judgment of the third event of this task would be worth just as much as he gave.

Nothing.

**OO**

In the previous two events, the targets were moving and hard to hit, but Harry had done well with both wand and bow, missing only twice, exceptionally good for this type of trial. And he had gotten no negative points.

Only Harry did the second and third events, as these were the actual flight trials of being a Knight of the Order.

It was down to the last event. He knew that the target had to be hit with the lance, no quarter for this trial, and no argument heard. Harry had been told it would be an animated non-living target, so chose Buckbeak for his mount as he was the fastest hippogriff they had.

Harry was bearing down, but before he could get near it, he saw it was alive. His mount was terrified, as they had not had that much time to train together. There was a wyvern down there, two-legged, and it was injured!

How could the testers do this?

Harry had to be true to himself. His mount had shied away. The hippogriff surely knew that wyverns ate his kind. It was only due to many hours of training that Harry got as close as he did.

The knight was dropped off, the hippogriff flying up, and Harry quickly grabbed the emergency kit at his side. He gulped fire-proofing, and pulled out a full raw roast in stasis, dosing it with a strong healing potion.

The uncooked meat was levitated to the injured animal, bawling in pain and hunger. It snapped up the beef without smelling it, or it might have rejected it.

The magic worked, and the wyvern rose up on his two legs. Harry could see the gash now, but he didn't have time to make friends. Saying aloud he was going to cast and then casting the healing spell, the beast started to breathe ice towards him, and Harry realized that his color, a deep, deep blue, meant that this creature was a creature of ice.

Harry had drunk the wrong potion! Unsure if they mixed well or not, he looked at the label of the protection from cold. No warnings. Hoping that his fellow knights would rescue him if he was poisoning himself, he drank that down, and prepared another three roasts in quick succession, getting closer and closer.

No judge had stopped him yet. Good. The wyvern had stopped bawling. It was small, and Harry guessed that it really wasn't much more than a baby.

Harry took out a pocket guide. Yep, that's where they came from. They were past the Hogwarts wards so didn't have to apply his own Gryffindor descendant blood to the portkey to get it to work. He tapped in the coordinates. Was the thing healed well enough to survive the trip?

Did he really have a choice?

Maybe there was time for a target run if he hurried.

The beast was allowing him close enough to finish the healing with a spell on the open cut. Good, that was better. He enlarged the portkey, turning it into a flying disk and flung it at the beast.

The minute it touched, Harry shouted the activation phrase, and the wyvern was gone.

Three judges popped away at the same time. Harry climbed up the hill and whistled for his mount. It came within a hundred meters, but wouldn't land.

"It's gone, you birdbrain. Look! Bad flying snake gone!"

Harry took out the last roast, cutting off several slices and lured the hippogriff closer with that.

He ran and jumped off the short ledge. Now Buckbeak was completely back into the game and flew under him, allowing him to mount. Harry quickly expanded the lance from the pocket and looked around for a different target. There! Now that was the clearly animated target, a non-living target! Yay! He swooped down like he had a million times, and got it, just barely off-center, but close enough that it would count.

He looked at his watch and his heart fell.

He was five minutes over.

Well, there were some knights who took several times to make it, and some never did.

Harry flew down. His friends were all cheering, but they didn't understand. It was hard, trying to keep smiling, but he did.

Sir Jerome stalked up to him and grasped him in a warrior's embrace. "Well done, Sir Knight, well done!"

"But I messed up! I was over the time limit!"

"No! You don't understand! That wyvern wasn't supposed to be there! It must have smelled the food being prepared for the dinner. It was wounded and wandered in from that forest, the one they call Forbidden. The judges noted the time and watched. We were concerned you would kill it; I mean, it would be out of its misery. You did that so fast! In an emergency situation, it would have been fast enough to save a lot of lives.

"The judges are deciding how to score this for the task, but in my eyes, you won. You are an amazing young man."

The judge from Kenya came over and bowed to Sir Jerome.

"The results will have to be reviewed by the council. The judges here decree that Sir Harry has passed the trials with distinction, as he was able to determine live from conjured targets, and showed mercy. Sir Harry healed the beast in a very short period of time. Then he not only determined where the healed animal should go, but he was also able to transport it there on his own. We are recommending full honors. There is no score for this task in relation to the tournament. We go in Peace. Peace be with you, my friends."

And he bowed.

Harry fell to the ground. Success on his first attempt! It wasn't possible.

Fleur came over, and Sir Jerome hoisted him to his feet. She took advantage of his dazed state and kissed both cheeks. Cultural thing, celebration kisses but it made him uncomfortable. But then she leaned in for a kiss on his mouth, and he shied back. The girl just wouldn't accept no! Harry did not return the cheek kisses as would have been normal. And looked around for his friends.

Millicent scowled at the girl, but not at Harry. She had seen that he had pulled away and said no more.

He had done it! Harry had earned the wings he bore over his heart, and in his soul. There would be a celebration feast later, back at the school with mentors and teachers. And Hermione.

Neville, Ron, Fred, and George all came over and thumped his back and shook his hand.

"Some flying, Harryikins." "That was amazing!" "Thought that Buckbeak was going to live up to his name and buck you into that monster's beak!"

They all laughed together at that, but there were other people to greet.

Harry never heard the crowd cheering at all, but took a moment with Sir Jerome, and lastly Sir Hector.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything." Harry intoned sincerely while sharing manly hugs.

"We best be getting back to the tents. You'll want a scrub and the healer will want to make sure you don't sprout tentacles or something from your unusual potions experiment." Sir Hector suggested.

Harry laughed, but Fred looked worried. "That's not a thing, is it? Wait, is it? That's actually an interesting idea…"

"Oh-oh. Beware the Chaos Twins with evil ideas." Harry warned.

Later, it looked like Fleur was blushing on one side, but Harry wasn't sure. Harry really didn't pay attention

Millicent had somehow hurt her hand, so he was more intent on fixing that.

**OO**

"Harry! I'm so proud of you!" Hermione gushed on their private mirror. Harry was in the Ecole Merlin tent in his room getting ready for the small feast being prepared.

Harry was bathed and half-dressed, finishing as he talked with his best friend.

"Wow!" Hermione was surprised –and pleased!- at how quickly Harry was recovering a more normal build since his Knighting ritual. He had clearly been developing muscles hidden by the tunics and robes that they wore every day.

A few wiry hairs were trying to burst forth on his naturally scrawny chest. But he was strong and developing rapidly.

Harry saw her face appeared flushed, and she touched the tip of her tongue to her lips.

'Note to self: no more dressing in front of Hermione.' Harry thought as he rapidly donned his white shirt.

"It wasn't just me today, Hermione. You inspired me to be my best self. You always do." Turning serious, he stated earnestly, "You are taking this threat seriously, and staying at school, aren't you?"

"Yes, Harry. I'm locked up tight in the tower, pining for you." She playfully teased. "In all seriousness, I stay in the cloister when not in class, during the day. Mum and Dad have a really nice tent now, not the emergency one we started with. Daisy is growing like a weed, and smiles at me when she sees me; she's such a joy! Persephone is doing a great job as Administrator. I wonder if she'll replace Professor McG. That new boy is really annoying! Picture him as a dark-haired Draco with mummy issues."

"Instead of daddy ones? Right. We've not seen Malfoy Sr. here yet. Probably too afraid of what I'll do to him, now that I'm old enough to challenge him."

"I thought that the Knight Commander forbade it? Harry, don't go getting the Order kicked out of Hogwarts! Or Britain!"

"That, my love, is all that is keeping my mouth under control. And of course, being worried about disappointing you."

"My love? Harry! You've never called me that before."

"Well, I've been rather surrounded by cranky sisters and strict knights. They wouldn't approve."

"I love you too, my good sir knight. Now, go to dinner. I can hear your tummy from here."

"Yes, my lady! Your wish is my command."

"Prat! I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you." Hermione signed off, missing her knight.

Harry signed off, missing his princess.

**OO**

Luna called on the mirror. "Congratulations, Harry!"

"Thanks, Luna, but I didn't think you were going to watch today?"

Watching movement in the mirror gave his lovely animal-loving friend motion sickness.

"I didn't. And no, before you ask, no one called me." Luna shared. It made sense that Luna knew. She always did.

"I get it. I miss you, my friend. I'll have to get some pictures made out of a Pensieve. That wyvern was beautiful, I've never seen one like it until now. You'll like it, I bet."

"Listen Harry. The opportunity is coming on the wings of an owl. Get thee ready, good sir knight!"

Harry promised he'd be ready. He then asked Luna to make sure that Hermione's chocolate stores were good. He had purchased some local Honeydukes, but only had a few silver coins as he had spent his allowance in Paris on children's toys.

"Luna, the worst part of the poverty vows isn't having gold for my needs. Those are pretty simple. It's not having gold to buy chocolate for Hermione every day, getting you your favorite black licorice snaps, or being able to treat the little ones now and then. I don't think I realized how much gold I spent in a month before."

"Your time as a knight is limited, and then you'll find or make enough treasure to treat the orphans often, and let your lady bathe in chocolate if that is what you wish."

Harry's eyes crossed, and he stuck out his tongue at his friend. "I'm on a nice soothing potion, Luna! Don't try to put bad thoughts back into my head that I don't need!"

"Sorry! Truly!" Luna winked mischievously. "So, what do the twins have planned for Ambassador Umbridge next?"

They talked about pranks and such before signing off. Luna had been trying to distract the boy that was a dear friend, and the nearest thing that she had to a brother.

Luna knew that Harry was worried about Hermione's safety, and promised that as long as she stayed in the wards, she'd be safe.

Luna did not see the upcoming danger to herself. It wasn't part of the seer's gift, but if she could have foreseen the danger, she would have been very, very afraid.

**OO**

Despite the fact that Harry faced the toughest challenge, more targets, all moving where the others had static targets, the two pureblood boys were tied for first, Harry was next, and Fleur had managed a handful of points.

Madame Maxime was gone the following morning. She was going to see the head of Sports and Games at the ICW and lodge a formal complaint, complete with witness memories and lots of pictures.

Cedric was actually embarrassed and owled his father. If it wasn't for the fact that he thought he was in a magical contract, the boy was tempted to just quit.

Victor had said that he too was embarrassed over the clearly biased scores. Harry had never been interested in his placement in the tournament.

Harry was fined for creating an illegal port-key to move the injured animal back to where it came from. It was not a local beastie. A fine that Monsignor Brown paid as soon as it was levied stating that their application for port-key creation must have gotten lost. Again.

Harry was here because Luna said he needed to be to 'kill the dead'. And to the young knight, that would be to put the rest of Voldemort away for good.

**OO**

A/N: Story recommendation: Elfish Welfare by tyrannicpuppy

A/N: also joerandom 'The Boy who was Missing." I am following "And all those Left Behind", but I need to read this as well. Wonderful storyteller.