When wizards could not trust goblins to guard their treasure, they made a trip to Switzerland. True, there were no finer smiths than goblins, whose magic transformed precious stones and metals into works of art of exquisite beauty. Treasure, however, came in many forms. If the Ollivanders found themselves in need of concealing their centuries-old documents on wand creation from prying eyes, Gringotts was the last place they were advised to turn to; goblins, like many magical beings, were ready to commit murder and more to lay their hands on the secrets of wandlore. Likewise, if politicians and business-wizards required secure storage for their confidential papers, they could rely on one elusive establishment in Switzerland to protect those. Zauberbank Schafbünden was run exclusively by wizards; it was efficient, trustworthy, and discreet.
No one was certain of its proportions and reach. Its bankers, one could surmise, were a blend of Unspeakables and Aurors: briefed on legislation, duelling, and camouflage, they wore inconspicuous clothes and resorted to glamour spells, which made them untraceable in a crowd. They never spoke on their missions, and they guarded the riches entrusted to them with their lives.
At the occasion of the Triwizard Tournament, the three competing schools had paid for Zauberbank Schafbünden as an independent third party to store the official school Portkeys: an ornate fleur-de-lys for Beauxbatons, a crimson velvet book for Durmstrang, and a copper chalice for Hogwarts. It was this last one that little Gabrielle Delacour was handed at the French Ministry of Magic on the eve of the Second Task. After a goodbye to her parents, she was magically transported to the headmaster's office, where a party had gathered to receive her.
The miniature version of the Beauxbatons champion that stepped out of the green flames—for the Portkey was tied to the Floo network—was even younger than they had expected. She blinked the dust from her eyes and peered at them from under a tiny beret. Everyone from Albus and Madame Maxime to Ludo Bagman and the French divers beamed at her; she looked, indeed, as sweet as a doll in her floral dress and cream-coloured coat. The only attendants untouched by her loveliness were the Swiss banker tasked with retrieving the Hogwarts Portkey and the British Unspeakable responsible for supervising him.
Madame Maxime smiled in greeting. "Sois la bienvenue, mademoiselle Delacour."
She proceeded to introduce herself, but the girl was not permitted to reciprocate: the Unspeakable had moved forward, imposing and stern.
"As per the protocol, please state your full name and the purpose of your visit."
Gabrielle blinked up at him; it was plain she had not understood a word. Before the headmistress could reprimand the Ministry worker, Ludo Bagman intervened, his reaction positively comical.
"Blimey, missy, you're so… small. English?"
Olympe scowled at him. To prevent an altercation and hasten the officials' departure—his office was becoming too crowded and intimidating for their guest—Albus addressed the girl in French.
"Good evening, mademoiselle, and welcome to Hogwarts. You are very brave to have arrived on your own. Did you have a safe journey?"
She considered him and slowly nodded.
"Would you kindly share your name with this gentleman from the Ministry?"
With a deep breath, she uttered a distinct Gabrielle Apolline Delacour in an assured if quiet voice. The Unspeakable was not satisfied.
"Please state the purpose of your visit to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
This proved too much even for Ludo, to say nothing of Madame Maxime, who appeared to be counting to ten in her mind.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, she is what, seven? And she clearly speaks no English. Look, I'll answer that: she is here because we need her. She will serve as the French champion's treasure at the Second Task."
The Ministry employee's answer remained impassive.
"We have to follow the official protocol. She has to state her name and purpose, and then she must vow she bears no ill will and will not disclose any secrets. She is to return the Key as well."
Ludo rolled his eyes. "Let's just skip to the Key part, all right? I'll be reporting back to the Undersecretary anyway."
After a brief pause and another glance at the girl, the Unspeakable nodded. Guided by Mafzalah Hamidi, one of the French divers, whose motherly kindness could not fail to comfort the child, Gabrielle lifted the chalice engraved with the Hogwarts coat of arms. The Swiss banker came forth; he was holding a box lined with silk. A closer look revealed he was in fact handcuffed to the box with sturdy chains. If the sight startled the girl, for she examined the wizard from head to toe, she complied nonetheless. The box clicked shut the moment the chalice was inside, and the banker retreated, all but fading against the background.
"As of now, the Key has been temporarily returned under the care of Zauberbank Schafbünden," the Unspeakable informed Albus and Ludo, a sheet of parchment in hand. "We need both of your signatures."
They obliged, and not long thereafter, the strangers were gone. Albus did not doubt Swiss bankers added a hint of the Memory Charm to the glamour spells that altered their features: no sooner was the man gone than his face, easily forgettable by nature, faded from the headmaster's memory.
"Good riddance," Ludo muttered with one last, dark look at his Ministry colleague before recovering his bubbly façade.
"So, ladies and gentleman, this is where the fun begins. Little mademoiselle, welcome. Pity I don't speak French, aside from a few unsavoury words you are probably too young yet to hear. But Madame Maxime, I believe, has already introduced herself, and the rest of you speak French as well, so if someone could please translate…" He gestured dramatically. "So why have we asked you to join us? It will be your sister's task to find you tomorrow. We are going to introduce you to some friendly merpeople, who will stay with you, and your sister will then pick you up. In addition, lovely Mustafa here will keep an eye out—I'm sorry if I'm butchering your name—as well as Mr Polyta-crab Cucullu. They will swim with you and make sure no fish come and bite. Does this sound good?"
Gabrielle giggled at the headmistress's translation before objecting she could not swim. They took turns to reassure her and introduce themselves, and after a short yet enjoyable chatter, during which the girl was served refreshments, Madame Maxime led their little guest downstairs and into the Beauxbatons carriage. At this, the French divers excused themselves for the night, though one could tell they had taken Ludo's blunders in good humour. Only the commentator and the Swedish Ministry workers were spending the night at Hogwarts.
The clock showed half past seven. For the next endeavour, they had agreed to convene in Professor McGonagall's office, for it was not advisable for numerous students to learn the password leading to Albus's own.
Minerva masked her nervousness with mute impatience. Within minutes of each other, the children were ushered in: Miss Granger and Ronald Weasley, and then Cho Chang accompanied by her Head of House. All three of them bore identical bewildered expressions.
"Good evening." Albus gave them a reassuring smile. "You must be wondering why you have been summoned to professor's office at such an hour. We apologise for the late notice. You see, the Ministry"—he gestured towards Ludo Bagman—"has selected you as 'treasure' for the Triwizard champions. You are their closest friends and, effectively, the ones they would sorely miss."
Their silence betrayed even deeper surprise. He carried on.
"As you have doubtless heard, the Second Task will take place in the Black Lake. The champions will venture underwater in order to retrieve their treasure—that is to say, to retrieve you. What we propose is to place you into an enchanted sleep. A number of divers from the Ministry will take you into the lake and secure you at a safe spot guarded by the merpeople. It will be the champions' job to locate and bring you up to the surface, at which point, you will wake up. Should any of the champions fail to complete their assignment, fear not: the divers will take you back to the shore. Your safety is our greatest concern, and we will resort to all the precautions at our disposal. I promise none of you will suffer any harm or discomfort."
The first reaction came from Miss Chang.
"Excuse me," she said timidly, "I don't think I understand how come this decision was made for us. Why wasn't our opinion asked in advance?"
"Excellent questions," Filius Flitwick murmured as an echo.
Ludo flashed them a bright grin. "Oh, come now, where is the excitement? You have been chosen! Isn't it great?"
"Well… not really," Cho confessed. "It's very late notice, it is unexpected, and frankly, it's a little inappropriate. We could have had plans."
"Err, well." The commentator glanced at Albus for help. "You know, never mind—it will be over in a jiffy, and you'll get to see the lake. How many students can say that?"
For once, the headmaster had no intention of coming to the other man's rescue: this mess was one of Ludo's own creation, and the consequences were his to face. He craved a dramatic show, and this was exactly what he was getting.
Ron Weasley whispered something in Miss Granger's direction, only to be hushed at once. Miss Chang must have caught the words; the look she threw him was positively thunderous.
"Um… Are we spending the night in the lake, professor?" Hermione asked.
"No, Miss Granger," Albus assured her. "The three of you, as well as Miss Delacour's closest person, will be brought to the lake shortly before dawn. It goes without saying we will cast several spells to ensure that your bodies stay warm and your breathing unimpeded. Even so, it would have been unwise of us to request that you remain underwater for so many hours. To facilitate the events, Professor McGonagall has offered her office for you to spend the night in; she, Professor Flitwick, and I will come and fetch you at dawn. You are free to use the nearby facilities, and you can order refreshments from a house-elf; only, I will ask you to not leave this floor or return to your common rooms."
The two Gryffindors met each other's eye. This time, Ronald spoke.
"Uh, Hermione wanted to go to the lib—"
"Which part of you are to stay here do you not understand, Mr Weasley?" Minerva snapped.
Cho cleared her throat once more. "Can we at least go and get our things?"
The answer came from Filius.
"I'm sure the house-elves will bring you anything you may need from your dormitory. Is that correct, Albus?"
The headmaster nodded. "It is. We apologise for this unexpected inconvenience. It was important to maintain the element of surprise for the champions." He drew a new breath when Hermione's frightened gaze claimed his attention. "Is everything all right, Miss Granger? What is wrong?"
She wavered but, in the end, shook her head, her hair bouncing around her face. "N-nothing, professor."
Everyone was now regarding her; Minerva's brows were furrowed.
"Are you quite sure?" he pressed on. "Is there an issue you are worried about?"
She had squared her shoulders, though, lending her voice certainty.
"No, professor. Nothing is wrong."
Knowing, from her obstinate airs, that she would not be sharing the cause behind her restlessness, Albus gave up on the interrogation.
"All right. Ludo, have I neglected to mention anything relevant?"
"No, I reckon you've covered it all. And hey, look at the bright side, you three: you get to mingle and have a sleepover. Tomorrow, there is an entire adventure to look forward to. Cheer up!"
He winked at the teenagers. None of them smiled back.
"So glum, all of them," Ludo complained to Albus after they left the children tucked into sleeping bags in Minerva's office. "You'd think they'd be impatient! Oh, well, maybe it will come yet."
The Scottish sun rose late during the winter months. Anxious as they were, the three teachers had no choice but to wake the blurry-eyed youngsters while the grounds were still shrouded in shadow. By the time they walked down to the lake, the entire party felt chilled to the bone. Madame Maxime, however, appeared merrier than Albus could remember seeing her, and it was no wonder: she was holding a protective arm around Gabrielle, who was falling asleep on her feet. The realisation filled him. This was what the French headmistress truly dreamed of: to be the mother of a child as sweet as little Miss Delacour. A dream most witches took for granted, but which remained elusive for a lady with her heritage, no matter how beautiful and accomplished she had become.
The majority of the Ministry divers joined them on the shore; they were the only ones wide awake, enlivened even. At the sight of them, Albus brought his mind to a full focus. Nothing was more important than this part, and it was crucial that the Charms he put on the students be complete and secure. At his request, Filius and Minerva double- and triple-checked his fatigue had not got the best of him. The three children had truly been plunged into a deep slumber; the thermal spells were in place, and their breathing adjusted. Close by, Madame Maxime had applied identical enchantments to her charge.
All that was now left for them to do was observe as Kingsley, Fleming, Cooper, and Cucullu seized one child each and dove. O'Keeffe and Mafzalah were already in the water: one was bewitching the Giant Squid with yet more sleep magic, and the other was engraving rune symbols at the bottom of the lake to allow turning it into a giant Pensieve. When the first rays of sunshine kissed the undulating surface, the Swedish divers came out of the castle as well. They had no hostages to tend to and, as such, were free to watch the others work, coffees in hand.
A quick breakfast later, Albus stood back at the edge of the water. The stands constructed for the audience looked nothing short of impressive. Rolanda Hooch had not omitted clear barriers between the Houses: a wise move if one wished to avoid emotional brawls between the champions' loyal admirers. On a small side bank, a tent had been erected by two Healers in case one of the champions or divers suffered an injury. At Ludo's request, and as a form of collaboration between Hogwarts and St. Mungo's, Albus had approved their nomination in advance. As for the judges' gold-draped table, it contained notepads and drinks. The witch herself was arranging six upholstered seats a small distance away, aided by Alastor Moody. If the rest of the staff found themselves drained by the preparations, this couple rather resembled honeymooners.
"It's turning out to be busier than we thought," Rolanda admitted to Albus in passing. "A few guests are coming as well: four from France and two from our Ministry—the divers' relations, I think—and I've had to assign spots for them behind you judges. There was no room left at the stands."
"Three are for my husband and girls. They are so excited!" Mafzalah had overheard them and approached the golden table, the drops on her swimming attire glinting in the faint daylight.
"They are very welcome to join us for the celebratory lunch after the task," Albus told her sincerely.
Madame Maxime came forth, her interest aroused. "Are your daughters of school age?"
"Oh, no, Marina has nine years, and Maya, my little one, has six. It's interesting: little mademoiselle Delacour is very like Maya, but her age is closer to that of Marina."
Olympe smiled. "Ah, que c'est charmant! You 'ave named zem after ze sea."
"It's true, my whole family adores the ocean."
"I can't wait to meet zem boz, and Madame Cucullu as well. She must be zo proud of 'er son, Dominique—'e 'as won at least four Quidditch awards."
Moved by the longing in his fellow headmistress's voice, the Englishman sighed. Even though she was yet single, he was going to believe that, when the right instant came, she would meet her soulmate and become mother to children of her own. She deserved all of this and more, including the friendship of other fine ladies.
The crunching sound on the gravel alerted them to Karkaroff's arrival.
"Good morning," Albus said to him.
"Too early for good, Dumbledore. But vhen Viktor vins, it vill be good," came a chuckle.
It was best to ignore the bragging. "I've glimpsed some kokkaffe this morning. It might help shake off the drowsiness."
"Never liked it. Vile stuff. Good strong tea alvays better, you haff to agree. If zere is anything good here on zis island, it is tea—you British people know how to make it."
Torn between incredulity at the compliment and offense at seeing perfectly good coffee insulted, Albus took to his seat. The stands were filling with chattering students, whom the Heads of the four Houses guided along the rows of seats. As of yet, it was impossible to locate Sirius.
Two guest chairs went to the girlfriends of Cooper and Fleming. When Mafzalah's family arrived, there was much laughter and introduction among the divers. As he smiled at the witch's playful daughters, Albus had no inkling he was about to greet his own adopted child.
"¡Sorpresa!"
Justice emerged before him, dressed as a French Ministry employee.
"I am Mrs Cucullu for the day. Trust me, a much better version too. You wouldn't have liked the real deal."
Gasping in delight, he rose to embrace her.
"Justice, my girl, what a lovely surprise!" He pulled away just enough to inspect her disguise. "Mrs Cucullu, you say? What is her role at the Ministry?"
"Some pretty face at the reception desk. Luz doesn't like her—says she's kind of snobbish." Radiant, she hugged him again, her hold tight. "It's so good to see you."
"I've missed you, my dear."
He became conscious a few seconds later the other two headmasters were staring at this affectionate display. He turned towards them.
"May I present to you Madame Cucullu, one of our guests?"
"Bonjour," Justice managed, not without a thick accent.
Madame Maxime rose; she had been looking forward to meeting the mother of a prized student of hers.
"Ah, madame, quel plaisir de faire votre connaissance! Je suis fière de votre fils—c'est un excellent élève et un joueur exceptionnel."
"Err…" Justice blinked, somewhat flustered. "Ay, perdón, es que no hablo el francés muy bien. English?"
Although astonished, the other witch composed herself quickly. It was odd, Albus had to concede, for an alleged receptionist at the French Ministry to not speak fluent French.
"Not a problème at all. I was saying, your son Dominique, you must be zo proud! Eet eez very nice to meet you."
"Oh." Justice straightened up. "Right. So, Dominique is not bad—a good player, certainly—but Santi is just better. He almost snatched that junior-whatever-award, except he had twisted his ankle, and yet he still delivered an outstanding performance—despite the pain, I might add. Had he been healthy back then, I'm afraid Dominique wouldn't have stood a chance. But sure, Dominique is a good boy."
This completely disoriented Madame Maxime, who mustered a feeble, "Santi?"
"Santiago Alvarez Castillo. You know, only the best Quidditch player your school has seen in the last fifty years. So like I said, Santi."
An uneasy silence followed the reprimand. Madame Maxime was too shaken to reply, and Albus understood—she was new at her post and had not yet memorised all the students who frequented her Academy. On the other hand, nor could he condemn Justice's annoyance at seeing her Spanish nephew sidelined in favour of a French player.
In the midst of this, Karkaroff wore an expression that translated his sentiment distinctly: Do you think us stupid? He had noticed the impostor's diamond jewellery, affordable to the richest ladies alone, as well as her behaviour, quite out of character for a proud mother. It was time to lead the witch away. Ludo's arrival was precisely what they needed.
"If you'll kindly excuse us for a minute," Albus uttered, gently steering Justice away. "My dear, please meet Ludovic Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and the de facto organiser of the Triwizard Tournament. Ludo, this is Mrs Cucullu."
Ludo's blue eyes raked appreciatively over the guest, who adopted a flirtatious tone.
"Enchantée."
"The pleasure is all mine! Polytur-eh-crab is a very fortunate wizard, I see."
"And a very jealous one," she countered with a sweet smile. "How fortunate that he will be busy diving…"
At this, the man burst into laughter. "And she is funny too! It just shows that I've no luck with witches whatsoever: all the good ones are taken. Are you excited for the task? It will be an entertaining one."
"We have a rather good commentator, I hear." Justice winked at Albus. "So yes, quite an affair."
Ludo beamed. "Why, if Professor Dumbledore himself has praised me, I can't be that hopeless after all."
"Absolutely, you are the best," came a melodious reassurance. "Alb-Professor Dumbledore was just telling me so."
Loath though he was to interrupt his daughter's moment of fun, Albus felt it safest to change the topic, not the least because Cucullu, engrossed in chatter with the rest of the divers, remained quite oblivious to his "spouse's" arrival.
"I am greatly looking forward to the event. But aren't we missing our fifth judge? Have you heard from Mr Weasley?"
Those words sobered Ludo at once. "Dumbledore, do you mind if we have a word? I'm sorry, Madame Cucullu—"
"It's quite all right; I'll see you soon."
Justice walked away to claim her seat next to Mafzalah's family. Drawing closer to the headmaster, Ludo lowered his voice.
"The thing is… I couldn't find him. I was wondering, if it came to the worst, could we ask some objective third party to serve as the fifth judge? Nobody occurs to me: your staff members are bound to vote for Hogwarts, so it can't be any of them."
Albus's heart gave a wild flutter of panic. Not Percy Weasley as well! He could not possibly have disappeared like Barty Crouch.
Not two seconds later, however, the young man in question swam into view. He was walking down the path towards the lake, pale and sleep-deprived perhaps, yet unmistakably present.
With a calming intake of breath, Albus nodded in his direction. "Ludo, you gave me a fright. There he comes."
The other wizard stared. "What the…"
Percy gained on them. "I am sorry. I'm not late, am I?"
"No." It cost Ludo visible effort to maintain his composure. "But you could start answering owls. I've been trying to get in touch with you for two days!"
"Well, I am here now. I have a letter from the Undersecretary herself—I will be standing in for Mr Crouch."
"Give it to me." Ludo glanced down at the parchment, frustration oozing from every syllable. "Seems to be hers, all right. Fine, let's just… get on with it. The stands are almost full. And next time, do write back; you nearly scared us all to death."
When there was no reply, he headed for the judges' table, rolling his shoulders to free himself of strain. Albus could not resist casting a careful look at the boy's pasty profile. Ignoring owls was not something he would have done of his own volition: he was one of those who would see their workload completed even if it earned them a nervous breakdown and a single hour of sleep every night.
"Are you sure you are all right, Mr Weasley?" he enquired quietly.
Percy nodded. He hesitated, and then words spilled out of him.
"They questioned me. But Madam Umbridge, she brought me breakfast… And they know I didn't do it. Now they know."
Questioned. Several weeks had passed since Crouch's abduction had been reported to the Minister for Magic. And they had postponed the interrogation of the missing official's devoted assistant until the Second Task? Dolores Umbridge with a breakfast tray… had she presented herself as the boy's saviour, graciously freeing him from the interrogators and permitting him to attend the Tournament? If so, it was a clever strategy for turning him into an obedient ally, and bad news all around. Albus sighed.
"I'm glad you are well. And I am sorry about Mr Crouch's disappearance. I hope he will be found safe and sound very soon."
The champions were gathering on the shore: a determined Fleur Delacour, a collected Cedric Diggory, and a scowling Viktor Krum. Not Harry, though. Sirius, for his part, was in attendance; his Animagus form enabled him to move easily through the stands and track the visitors' scents.
"Your champion is not coming," Karkaroff remarked. "Funny, it is almost ze hour."
For the second time, a sense of dread caused the old wizard to freeze. Unless Harry had overslept… could Voldemort's minion have apprehended him while the large majority of the castle had been in commotion, hastening towards the lake? It was not at all implausible. Why had none of them thought of this? Someone had to be dispatched into the school at once.
By his side, Ludo and Percy sat tense and uneasy. Minerva dashed out of the stands, unable to handle more suspense.
"Albus," she whispered desperately, "I don't like this one bit. Shall I go and look for Mr Potter?"
But Ludo promptly appeased their worry. "Ah, there he is!"
A dishevelled Harry was sprinting towards the shore, his robes billowing behind him. He seemed sleepy, agitated, and utterly unprepared. Albus pressed Minerva's hand, knowing she had closed her eyes from a combination of relief and exasperation.
"I'm… here…"
Harry halted inches from the water edge, splattered Miss Delacour's robes, and doubled over. After such an exertion, the pounding in his ears was likely to drown out Percy's reproach—one worthy of Barty Crouch:
"Where have you been? The task's about to start!"
Reminding himself the boy had spent the last forty-eight hours in the Ministry dungeons, Albus refrained from hushing him. Ludo did not.
"Now, now, Percy, let him catch his breath!"
Yet half past nine had come and gone, and the task was gaining an unwelcome delay. The commentator advanced to space the champions into a straight line, even if Harry's breathing was far from subsiding and the stitch in his side was painfully obvious.
"Well, all our champions are ready for the Second Task, which will start on my whistle." Once again, the announcement had been amplified with magic. "They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"
The sound of a whistle pierced the air, and the three older champions waded out into the water. So did Harry, if more slowly than his fellows: he was fiddling with something in his pocket.
As soon as the surface touched their waists, Fleur and Cedric raised their wands to cast cautious Bubble-Head Charms. In the midst of the audience's cheers, they dove.
Viktor Krum's wand was also in the air; only, his motions suggested Transfiguration, and a horrified Albus understood the lad's intention seconds before it took effect. Human Transfiguration was best left to experts; self-Transfiguration was forbidden altogether unless one used it to alter a non-essential limb. If toyed with, both disciplines could result in disasters. In Viktor Krum's case, they resulted in a shark-like monstrosity. When the task was over, how would the boy even begin to restore his appearance? Still, he dove, unaware of the impending trouble.
Harry was last to submerge himself. He had been chewing on a plant, and if it was what the headmaster believed it to be, his solution was the most impressive and ingenious of all.
Thirty seconds later, the eight Ministry divers ventured into the lake. With fluent, practiced motions, they cast Bubble-Head Charms and proceeded to Disillusion themselves. The surface swayed and rippled where they vanished.
"Fingers crossed," Albus whispered to Minerva, who nodded and made her way back to the stands.
The next part required his involvement. He lowered his wand into the water and spoke a lengthy incantation. The rune symbols engraved along the bank and on the distant bottom glowed. Slowly, the surface turned from black to grey, from grey to clear, and from clear to silver. A section of the Black Lake had been transformed into a Pensieve.
"And they're off!" Ludo called. "The clock is ticking, and our champions have exactly sixty minutes to find and bring their treasure to the shore. We will be watching their progress through the eyes of our very own Ministry-approved divers."
Behind the judges' table, Mafzalah's daughters were bouncing with excitement in their seats. Albus pulled his chair a little further away from the rest, inviting Justice to join him, which she did at once.
"How come you are here under Mrs Cucullu's name?" he asked. "Does Giaco know?"
"Not quite, but then, nor does the real Mrs Cucullu." Justice winked at him. "I was having tea at Luz's, and you know, Santi's classes don't make any sense—they've been accommodated to fit around the European championships and whatnot—but anyway, the boys were crashing after a match, and Dominique was there. Cucullu came to pick him up, Luz offered him some tea, we started talking, and the next thing you know, I'm here because his wife couldn't make it and it would have been such a shame to let that guest seat go to waste. Say, do I look like a proud wife? Ooh, something is happening!"
A memory had floated to the surface. It showed Cedric swimming in the dark waters, his attention on something enormous before him. Ludo's voice rang over the lake.
"Uh-oh, Mr Diggory has already approached one of the magical barriers. Can you see the Giant Squid? Now fear not, this ancient and majestic creature has been placed under a temporary sleep to avoid any intervention to the task. What is more, we have established multiple wards inside the lake so that our champions wouldn't get lost. Mr Diggory, however, thinks the Giant Squid might be the goal. No, lad, no—wrong direction, turn around!"
Justice gasped and squeezed Albus's arm.
"This is the Squid?" she whispered, not unlike a child. "It's huge! I'd be so frightened!"
"It has a very gentle personality," he reassured her. "It has never been known to hurt a soul."
She smiled. "Before I forget—expect Pancito's baby bats to fly by one of these days. Giaco wanted to tell you something political. Oh, is that Mr Krum?"
A new image was spreading before the audience: the head of a shark swimming right at the spectators. This could only mean the Durmstrang champion had taken to pursuing the diver who had projected the memory.
All facts considered, this was not peculiar, for sharks' senses were much sharper than those of a wizard. Finding himself assaulted with new sensory sensations, Viktor was likely overwhelmed, not to mention confused as to why two human-sized beings were tailing him.
"Ah, what is this? Mr Krum is rather interested in chasing after his protectors. Someone should remind him of his real task, eh?"
If the students laughed, Karkaroff certainly did not. Ludo was not finished.
"My, this is turning into an underwater race! Naturally, our wizards have been trained to survive in extreme conditions, but this is a whole new game. Mr Krum had better not get carried away, or he will waste his hour!"
Justice shook her head, cringing. "I'm torn. It is funny, but it's also my school they are laughing at."
"So am I. Do you reckon sharks can tolerate fresh water without suffering discomfort?"
The third memory belonged to either Fleming or Cooper. In it, Harry was swimming peacefully above a patch of vegetation, his black robes swelling and flowing around him. Gillyweed—the plant he had swallowed could be nothing else—had lent him gills and webs, transforming his feet into near-flippers. One could not deny this method for solving the task was a genius one. Knowing the idea had not come from Sirius, a delighted Albus wondered what had inspired Harry to turn his research towards Herbology.
He cast about for Sirius. The large black dog was lingering at the Hufflepuff section of the stands, and he had not gone unnoticed: Rolf Scamander was attempting to push through the crowd, intent no doubt on adopting the stray.
It was the turn of Miss Delacour on the water-Pensieve. The absence of webbed fingers and flipper-like feet on her body meant she moved more slowly than Harry, yet she was a deft swimmer and followed not far behind. To remain inconspicuous, she was holding herself close to the expanse of weed.
Meanwhile, Cedric had taken out his wand and was shooting blasts of hot water at the magical barrier that separated him from the Giant Squid. The headmaster hoped he would soon perceive his error and begin swimming towards the true goal of the competition.
Viktor would not give up on his quarry any more easily. From the way he turned towards and away from the diver's point of view, one could surmise the Swedes had split up and swum in opposite directions. He was struggling to decide whom to pursue.
The audience's chuckles gave way to animated oohs. There was Harry again, and he was being attacked: long-fingered and horned, grindylows had left their refuge in the weed to grab a hold of him. He did not panic but retaliated with a spell that burned their greenish skin with jets of boiling water. Reluctantly, not without a chase, they released him. And just like the audience, Albus wished to cheer at the boy's boldness, even if the sight of the creatures' burns had lodged itself like a burden in his mind.
"Oooh, a close one for our youngest champion!" Ludo exclaimed. Much as he strived to keep his tone neutral, a note of admiration could be detected in his words. "As any diver will tell you, grindylows like lurking in vegetation and hunting in swarms. You cannot be too careful: even wizards have been known to fall prey to these fanged water demons. Ahh, but what have we here? Miss Delacour has been shadowing Mr Potter—there she is, only yards behind him. He can't see her. But has she been watching him fight off those pesky creatures? Has she learned how to get past them? Our divers will enlighten us; they have spells at their fingertips to render their vision clear underwater."
Suddenly, Justice clapped her hand over her mouth. She had seen it before the others: Fleur had stayed inert for too long. The last image the audience glimpsed before the memory dissipated was a voiceless scream and the girls' flailing gesture as she was pulled down.
The suspense was now so great that few applauded when Cedric was shown swimming away from the impenetrable wards, and even fewer laughed at Krum's prolonged disorientation—a state that caused Albus alarm for the boy's wellbeing.
Midway into this memory, the lake surface broke open. Cucullu and Mafzalah emerged with a mighty splash, holding a bleeding Fleur between them. Her Bubble-Head Charm was gone, her robes were ripped, and pieces of weed were tangled in her dripping hair.
They quickly carried her to the shore, oblivious to the outcry at the stands. Olympe and Madam Pomfrey hurried over, but Mafzalah did not wait for assistance: placing the girl on her back, she cast a series of spells to compress her chest and clear her airways, for it was manifest she had inhaled water. Fleur's eyes opened; she started coughing. They rolled her onto her side and covered her with warm blankets. Only at this point was Cucullu reassured enough to dive a second time. His memory superseded the one where Harry was swimming deeper into the lake.
The grindylows' attack had been furtive and violent: after their brawl with the youngest champion, they had lunged at Miss Delacour in unison and taken her by surprise. She had struggled, only for the wand to slip out of her grasp. Then the creatures' razor-sharp teeth and claws were sinking into the exposed skin of her limbs, and it took seconds for the bubble of air around her face to burst. The situation had turned critical—the divers knew that without their action, she would drown. Two well-aimed jinxes sent the grindylows scattering into the weed; the witch and wizard then seized the girl by her arms and swam upwards. Even then, she fought them, and Albus could not blame her: having had no inkling of her invisible protectors, she must have been terrified when they had swooped on her.
The scene on the water-Pensieve came to an end, and Justice met the headmaster's eye. What had happened to Fleur could have happened to anyone; by no means was she less skilled than the other three teenagers. Yet she would doubtless be receiving the fewest points, all due to a misfortune. Behind the judges' table, Mafzalah's youngest daughter was crying, convinced the pretty champion had perished. It was not the case: under the witches' care, the latter was now ready to sit up while her cuts were being Healed. Dazed and shivering, she needed a little time before some Pepperup Potion could be administered.
Once certain there was nothing more she could help with for the time being, Madame Maxime returned to her spot at the table. Cucullu had not re-emerged; presumably, he had retrieved Fleur's wand and was on his way to untie little Gabrielle. As for Karkaroff, his expression suggested he felt bored to death—close in fact to rolling his eyes.
Two similar memories succeeded each other on the surface: Cedric swimming through calm if gloomy waters, and Viktor Krum setting off in the same direction, no longer concerned about his pursuers. But Harry was not shown. All the audience saw was another round of memories of Cedric and Krum, both of whom kept swimming without disturbance. Not until a few minutes later did they finally glimpse Harry as he sped up, determined like the other two.
"What is going on there?" Albus breathed.
Justice shook her head. "This is not a coincidence. Someone is hiding something."
At that instant, the air was filled with a scream of horror. Fleur was on her feet; she had thrown away the blankets and twisted out of Madam Pomfrey's hold. Whether it was due to something Mafzalah had said or otherwise, she had realised her little sister was at the bottom of the lake. Madame Maxime rushed towards her; it was all she and the diver could do to stop the girl before she threw herself into the water, wandless and without the means of conjuring another bubble of air.
"Ay, no!" Justice lamented. "She didn't know! Ay, pobre…"
Being a mother, she understood Fleur's panic and found it heartbreaking. To Ludo's credit, he distracted the spectators with a louder and more animated commentary than ever, effectively preventing the drama from gaining more onlookers.
Nothing the witches said made a difference; after her life-threatening experience, the girl was beside herself with fear for her sister. Tears were running down her cheeks; she was struggling against her headmistress's grip with all her might.
"Look at that, Mr Potter is first to reach the merpeople's village!" Ludo boomed over her cries. "Shortly, we will see what our champions hold dear. Oh, and look at those stone dwellings decorated with algae: here is something you don't see every day! Although some of the merpeople live in underwater caves. Can you count all the entrances? There, I see two, three, four of them!"
It was true: Harry had entered the eerie village, and the merpeople were floating all around him, observing him and pointing—to them, he was a curiosity. The goal was near.
How could it be that this boy invented the most elegant solutions of all and fulfilled dangerous tasks before everyone else? Emotion was coursing through Albus, along with gratitude and pride. He glanced at the stands to assess what progress Sirius had made in his investigation and whether he was watching. He did not search for long, for Sirius had become a hostage himself: having caught up with him, Rolf was stroking the dog's black fur, unwilling to let go.
According to the next memory, Cedric was approaching the village as well. Krum was coming last. The headmaster could not resist a glance at Karkaroff, who, only an hour ago, had boasted about Durmstrang's impending victory. The man pointedly ignored him.
"It comes down to a race between them," Justice whispered. "Whoever swims faster… Of course, given that horrid shark head, there is hoping for Hogwarts."
As if divining her trail of thought, Ludo exclaimed, "The time is almost up! Between Mr Diggory and Mr Krum, the former appears to be leading, but it's early to tell just yet; our Ministry divers are following close behind. Ah, here we have a new update on Mr Potter!"
The stands erupted into laughter: Harry was trying to pull a spear from the hands of a merman three times his size. The merpeople around him were shaking with mirth as well.
When his endeavour yielded no result, Harry started inspecting the lake bottom. He found a sharp stone and set to work, hacking away at the rope of weed that tied Ronald Weasley in place. A few minutes later, it gave way, and his victory was sealed.
All the Gryffindor spectators let out deafening cheers. Minerva could be seen hugging Rolanda and Alastor, and Albus smiled at her unbridled happiness, clapping as hard as he could.
"Once again, our youngest champion has succeeded in carrying out the task in the shortest amount of time!" Ludo sounded as thrilled as the rest of them. "If anyone has ever—oh, but what is this? Wait, it looks like he means to go on!"
To the general consternation, Harry did not take his hostage and head for the surface. Instead, he had bent down to free Hermione Granger. When half a dozen mermen pulled him away, the dismay on his face could have rivalled Fleur's.
But Cedric had almost reached them. The next memory revealed his progress through the village and arrival to the square, where all the commotion was occurring. He mouthed something at a restrained Harry, cut Cho Chang free with a small knife, and swam off with his quarry. It was the Hufflepuffs' turn to celebrate.
Under different circumstances, Albus would have rejoiced with them. As it was, he stared at the water surface, as stunned as he suspected Minerva of being.
"He left Harry behind," he muttered.
An incredulous humph escaped Justice. The boy's appearance on the shore, along with Miss Chang's, briefly interrupted the flow of memories, and it was not at once that Ludo could make himself heard over the jubilant Hufflepuffs. Kingsley and O'Keeffe followed suit: one could tell they had enjoyed their refreshing journey through the lake. Hogwarts victory it was; only, it felt tarnished.
While Madam Pomfrey fussed over the young couple, the audience saw the image of Viktor Krum speeding towards the remaining hostages. Without taking the slightest notice of Harry, the half-shark bit and tugged at Miss Granger's rope. There was one petrifying instant where Albus's heart stood still: he was certain Krum was about to inadvertently bite the girl. It was Harry who prevented the catastrophe, handing the sharp stone to his fellow. No sooner was Hermione untied than Krum swam away.
"Ma dai!" Justice exploded. "Him too?! How about at least the thumbs-up? What a way to express your thanks!"
Someone else had been affected by this display: Fleur Delacour. Taking advantage of her headmistress's distraction, she bolted towards the water, only to be stopped by Mafzalah.
"Lâchez-moi!" she implored. "Gabrielle ne sait pas nager!"
In the midst of the witches' attempts to soothe and comfort her, Miss Granger was pushed to the surface. She woke up at once, looking wildly around her, and, upon situating the bank, started swimming. Viktor Krum could not leave the water, unable to breathe on land or to pronounce the incantation needed to un-Transfigure himself. The fact that the Swedish divers did not reappear was reassuring, though: they were doubtless helping him restore his appearance away from curious eyes.
As soon as Hermione joined Cedric and Cho on the shore, the surface rippled again. What Albus saw next caused him to sit back in shock. Harry had pointed his wand at the merpeople and was counting on his fingers: a transparent threat of hexing them unless they allowed him to claim both hostages. There was no graver faux pas in the wizarding world than for a wizard to threaten a wandless magical being. The headmaster buried his face in his hands. The merpeople had been so supportive and kind.
"Don't worry." Justice leaned in to pat his arm. "The Frenchies alone haven't embarrassed themselves yet. I'll admit, between the poor sportsmanship, the nightmarish Transfiguration, and the threats against wandless creatures, it's hard to decide what's worse…"
"And there he goes, a hostage in each arm! What a culmination!" Ludo called.
A subdued and exhausted Viktor Krum waded out of the lake just as everyone observed Harry's slow progression towards the shore with bated breaths. Something had happened, though. Albus saw it from the distance: Eriksson, one of the Swedish divers, had swum to the surface and was signalling for help. Kingsley rushed into the water; a minute later, the two of them were pulling an injured Gustavsson onto a side bank and towards the Healers' tent. Blood was gushing from his chest: while helping Viktor rid himself of the shark head, he had been badly bitten.
If a few students gaped at the sight, most were too absorbed in Ludo's commentary to pay attention. Indeed, the task had come to an end: the silver glow of the surface was fading as, one by one, the rune symbols engraved inside the lake were being erased by the merpeople. It had been a part of their agreement with Albus.
Harry's head protruded from the water: he looked younger than ever before, and near his physical limit. Even so, he and Ronald Weasley helped Gabrielle walk out onto dry land. It was untenable for Albus to sit idly any longer: together with Ludo, he converged on the smallest champion while Percy came fussing over his brother and Fleur positively threw herself onto the little girl. Not until a disapproving Madam Pomfrey shooed them away did a semblance of order return. Still, few onlookers discerned a beaming Cucullu, Fleming, and Cooper waving goodbye to the merpeople and making their way to the shore.
"Good luck," Justice whispered. With a small squeeze on Albus's shoulder, she went to sit with Mafzalah's family.
The Englishman swallowed. He could sense O'Keeffe's reproachful gaze on him, and he delayed no more but as good as ran towards the Merchieftainess. She was waiting for him at the water's edge, her eyes following his movements.
"Merchieftainess Murcus, I would like to offer my sincere apologies to you and your village." He was articulating as thoroughly as he could. "My student's behaviour is on my conscience, and I ought to have taught him better. He showed disrespect out of fear, not malice. Please forgive him."
"He is a brave child," she answered after a few heartbeats. "We hold no ill will towards children."
Turning around, she dove, her powerful tail swishing in the air.
Albus straightened up. He drew a few deep breaths and checked that the teenagers were being tended to. Now was the time.
"A conference before we give the marks, I think."
The judges approached, and he was touched to see how pale and concerned Percy Weasley appeared; he had left his brother's side reluctantly.
"Quite a ride… or should I say a dive?" Ludo said, chuckling. "Dumbledore, you will start then?"
"Very well." Albus paused to sort through his impressions. "If we discuss each champion in turn, as we did last time, I will take the liberty to start with Mr Diggory. His Bubble-Head Charm was performed correctly, and he returned with only a minute of delay. Personally, I would like to see him coached on the rules of sportsmanship, but I won't be taking any points from him in this instance."
Ludo beamed. "Excellent! A good performance from Mr Diggory indeed. I will dock a point since he required more than an hour to return—a few minutes, granted, but there we have it. Madame Maxime?"
"Full points, I zink. Zose few minutes are nozing. Decent magical performance too—I do zink 'e deserves full points."
"All righty. Weatherby?"
"Err, f-full points, yes."
"Good. And Professor Karkaroff?"
The Durmstrang headmaster squinted musingly. "Eight. He did take his sweet time."
"That's fair."
Drawing a new breath, the commentator went on.
"Which leads us to Miss Delacour. She opted for the same solution as Mr Diggory but was, most unfortunately, attacked. It's a tricky one, could have happened to any of them. Dumbledore, would you like to start?"
With a glance at the girl, who was fiercely hugging her sister, Albus spoke; he was determined to avoid the injustice he had committed during the First Task.
"It could indeed have happened to anyone. Miss Delacour cast an excellent Bubble-Head Charm, and her strategy—she was, I believe, tailing Mr Potter—was prudent. The grindylows attacked in unison; it was vicious and unexpected—a case of bad luck that had nothing to do with skill. Without this attack, I'm certain she would have retrieved her hostage in time. I will therefore award her seven points."
"Agreed," Ludo said, nodding. "I am not sure about the tailing strategy, though, so overall… six points from me."
Madame Maxime scowled at him. "I zink you are terribly unfair, Monsieur Bagman. Excusez-moi, but what does zis mean, you don't like ze strategy? Fleur used ze Charm to 'er best efficiency, and what 'appened wiz ze grindylows could 'ave 'appened to anyone—you juste zaid zo yourself, may I remind you. Nine points."
Ludo flashed her an apologetic smile.
"Right, nine points from Madame Maxime. So, Professor Karkaroff?"
"Zero," the man deadpanned.
Olympe's mouth fell open.
"Je vous demande pardon? Zéro?"
Karkaroff shrugged. "Yes, zero, she failed ze task. In fact, how long vas she in ze vater? Oh, zat's right, not long at all. She used most of ze time for hysterics on the shore."
"'Ysterics?"
"Yes, hysterics, zat's vot I just said."
The witch drew herself to her full height; her black eyes were blazing. "'Ow dare you?! Incompetent as your champion was!"
"Viktor was not incompetent: he completed ze task. I did not see him vailing on ze shore."
"Mais bien sûr, he was too busy chasing and biting zose vizards."
She motioned towards the Healers' tent, where Gustavsson was receiving treatment.
The Ukrainian shrugged again. "Don't see how zat is relevant."
Incensed did not even begin to describe Madame Maxime's state. She looked ready to hit Karkaroff, which could only result in a scandal. Sensing it, Ludo moved between them, his palms raised.
"Judges, judges, we are keeping it civil, all right?" He turned from Olympe to Karkaroff. "Professor, surely the poor girl deserves some points. It was by a mere misfortune that she got attacked, and Madame Maxime is right: the demonstrated magical skill is equal to Mr Diggory's—"
"No," the other man interrupted. "She failed ze task and chose to have hysterics on ze shore. It does not deserve any points."
Ludo heaved a deep sigh.
"I disagree, but we will get back to it. Weatherby?"
Clearly expecting a brawl to erupt any minute, an apprehensive Percy coughed out something unintelligible.
"Weatherby, speak up!" came an irritable command.
"T-three points… f-failed task."
Madame Maxime blinked. "Incroyable."
Ludo stared too.
"Seriously, Weatherby? Only three points? Well, all right, that makes a total of twenty-five points. Let's move on to Mr Potter. Dumbledore, we'll let you start again."
It was difficult to suppress his urge to call Karkaroff a few unsavoury names, and Albus could hardly condemn the Beauxbatons headmistress for her desire to slap the wretched wizard. It did not help that Percy Weasley was now dancing to the said wizard's tune.
A glance around them revealed Cucullu and Mafzalah watching the meeting with appalled eyes. Fleming and Cooper were listening closely; so was an inscrutable Kingsley. O'Keeffe, however, was already up to his shoulders in the lake, more interested in talking to the merpeople than following the Tournament.
"Harry's method was ingenious," Albus declared as calmly as he could. "He was first to locate the hostages, and, under different circumstances, he would have returned first as well. Many, I'm certain, will mock him for believing the merpeople's song and wasting his time attempting to rescue all the hostages. These people don't realise he is a child participating in the competition against his will. He was frightened no doubt of losing his friends, and this led him to forget all about victory and put the hostages' safety first. For this, I cannot award him less than full points, even taking his delay into account."
"I couldn't have said it better!" Ludo exclaimed with a smile. "Full points!"
Like the Englishman, Madame Maxime was struggling to regain her composure. She nodded her approval.
"Oui—yes—I agree it deserves recognition. Full points."
"That's already thirty points! Excellent!" Ludo clapped and then winked. "Weatherby, don't let us down now."
As if replacing Barty Crouch had imparted some of the latter's disinterest to him, Percy Weasley considered his brother, who lingered near Harry and Miss Granger. Viktor Krum was eyeing the girl, as if waiting for the right moment to address her.
"Percy?"
This switch to the first name did the trick. The young man shook himself.
"Oh, um… eight points. Just because… Harry took such a long time."
Despite his frown, Ludo made no comment on those strange reactions. Albus wondered if their suspicions matched. Had Percy received instructions on the points he was handing out? Had he become Dolores Umbridge's puppet and spy?
"Right, that leaves Professor Karkaroff. Your points, please?"
The Durmstrang headmaster narrowed his eyes.
"I am razer curious… Ve saw every champion's progress at regular intervals—until ze incompetent French champion was pulled out. But I noticed Harry Potter vasn't shown for a long time. Before I decide on ze points, I vant to call forvard the vizards who followed him."
Ludo arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
"Yes."
Never had Karkaroff born such a striking resemblance to Severus Snape as he did now. As educators, they resorted to an identical style; Albus felt foolish for not spotting this earlier.
After a few quiet seconds, the commentator complied and gestured towards the divers.
"Boys? Professor Karkaroff wishes to know why, ahem, the delay occurred when you didn't project your memory."
Fleming and Cooper exchanged furtive looks, careful to maintain blank expressions.
"What delay?" Fleming ventured.
"You know very vell!" Karkaroff snapped. "Vhen you refused to show us vot he vos doing. Did you lose him? Seems very unlikely. Razer, you did not show him on purpose. Vot are you hiding?"
"Nothing," Cooper asserted quickly. "We showed everything."
"No, you did not! Vot vos he doing zat long? It took at least five minutes. It makes me suspect cheating vas involved."
Once again, the divers met each other's eye. As loath as he was to agree with the other headmaster on any subject whatsoever, Albus had to concur. He could not divine how Harry could possibly have cheated inside the lake, yet his former students' body language was telling.
"Sorry, I really don't see—"
"Wait, you're right!" Fleming said suddenly. "He was… eh, it was rather private…"
"Vot vos private?" Each word rendered Karkaroff more furious. "It vos ze middle of ze competition! Or did he happen to be taking a leak?!"
There was brief silence. Then:
"Yeah," Cooper nodded. "He did, so we, err, decided not to show that. No rule-breaking, though."
"Yeah, maybe only a few weeds were… unhappy."
Ludo waved his hand to cut off the flow of improvised excuses.
"All right, highly irrelevant. Thank you, boys. Professor, are you ready to award the points now?"
Karkaroff glared at them, helplessly enraged. An expert liar like him could spot a lie from a mile away.
"He should be disqualified immediately." He rounded on Albus. "Why, Dumbledore, didn't you say you didn't vant any creatures harmed? He nearly cooked those grindylows alive. So much for no harm. Zat, at least, ve could see, and I shudder to zink vot he vos doing vhen ve couldn't."
Albus swallowed. He peered at Harry, who sat shivering under the towel Madam Pomfrey had wrapped around him, and his heart sank. What he was about to say was risky. It could effectively silence Karkaroff, but it could also result in Harry's removal from the Tournament. If this was the case, the boy would be disappointed, and who could reproach him after his ordeal? Yet a disqualification would allow the headmaster to pull him out of school and hide him in a secure location with Sirius. This way, Voldemort's plans of abduction would be thwarted.
He inhaled. "I most certainly did insist that no creatures should be harmed, and I'm not going back on my word. I agree with Professor Karkaroff: Harry ought to be disqualified for burning the grindylows."
Ludo dropped the sheet of paper he was using to write down the marks. The four judges gaped at the old headmaster.
"Pardon?" Madame Maxime muttered. "You cannot be serious?"
Karkaroff spoke over her, his voice mistrustful. "You agree?"
"That rule was my idea," Albus explained. "In fact, it was my condition for conducting the Second Task the way we planned it. Mr Bagman and Mr Weasley both agreed. And if the champions have been informed of this change, how could I possibly justify Mr Potter's failure to comply with it?"
This seemed to reassure the Head of Durmstrang.
"I'm glad you agree," he declared. "Cheating must not be revarded. Ve might not be able to prove zat part, but your rule has been broken anyvay, Dumbledore."
At this, Percy cleared his throat. "May I say something?"
His eyes darted timidly between the taller wizards.
"I never received any paperwork, so… I don't think this particular rule is valid. Typically, such an amendment would have been implemented right after the First Task. But with Mr Crouch ill, nobody sent any—"
"Thank you, Weatherby," Ludo cut him off. "We get it: no amendment, no rule. So let's just forget all this elimination nonsense, shall we?" He left them no chance for objection. "And as for that alleged cheating, we've seen no evidence to it, so you have to decide on your points, Professor Karkaroff."
The Ukrainian's hopeful expression had given way to grumpiness again. "I need more time to zink about it."
"Oh, very well! Let us discuss Mr Krum then."
The "conference" was threatening to become as dramatic as the task itself, and it showed no sign of ending. Albus felt torn; his delight at seeing Harry supported by most judges was undeniable, and he all but detested himself for it—for validating the boy's feelings at the expense of his safety. He plunged into an evaluation of the last champion's performance without being prompted.
"Whether Mr Krum opted for a last-minute solution or simply neglected to ponder the consequences of his spell, I will never know, but I am willing to give him the benefit of a doubt and assume his Transfiguration teacher had provided a poor overview of the subject. The truth is, if Harry hadn't helped him untie Miss Granger, Mr Krum might have caused her serious harm. The Tournament would have been cancelled yet again. I cannot award him more than seven points—if I were to include Mr Gustavsson's injury in my reasoning, it would be even less. There is no denying that from all the champions, Mr Krum chose the most reckless and dangerous method."
Predictably, Karkaroff lashed out at once. "Viktor did everything as required. He completed ze task, rescued ze girl. Your hypothetical accusations are irrelevant. Full points."
"Irrelevant?" Madame Maxime's anger bubbled back to the surface. "Do you even understand 'ow dangerous zat solution waz? Let us call ze Ministry diver, please."
Johann Eriksson approached; he had already changed from his swimming attire into official robes.
"'Ow badly eez your colleague 'urt?" Olympe demanded unceremoniously. "Would you agree Mr Krum endangered 'is life and, as M. Dumblydorr pointed out, 'e could 'ave done ze same to ze girl?"
The diver raised his eyebrows. "Do you want my opinion?"
"Oui, yes, please."
"And give your opinion on Beauxbatons too vhile you're at it," Karkaroff barked.
Unfazed, Eriksson complied. "Kunnar lost a lot of blood, but his wounds have been Healed. He needs some Blood-Replenishing Potion and rest—sick leave is in order, I dare say. As to my opinion, well, both the French and Bulgarian champions have shown great weaknesses. The girl is not Auror trainee material, granted, but even so, it wasn't smart to hide near the grindylows. She would have been aware of the danger, had she paid attention in the classes on magical water-dwelling creatures. The Durmstrang champion, on the other hand, Transfigured his head, which is a taboo in Transfiguration for a reason. By doing so, he robbed himself of any chance to safely recover his upper body. Had he paid attention in Transfiguration class, he would have known why wizards should never make that mistake. Both schools need to re-evaluate their current teachers, but that's just my opinion."
"Well, judges," Ludo caught on without skipping a beat, "we thank Mr Eriksson for his opinion. If we could now proceed towards the points."
"I will give only four," Madame Maxime declared. "Ze danger aspect was too great."
"And I suppose you turned deaf vhen your flaws vere pointed out?" Karkaroff countered sarcastically.
"Oui, ze flaws were pointed out, but my champion did not endanger anyone. It counts for zomezing!"
"Your champion was crying on the shore vhile Viktor completed ze task. How do you even justify it? I'm curious. Do you zink you can just demand high results vhen ze task vos never completed?"
"I am not 'aving zis conversation. Four points!"
Rolling his eyes, Karkaroff murmured something that sounded much like pathetic.
It was not too soon that Ludo intervened again.
"Fine then. Nine points from me: the task got completed and it all ended well. I will dock a point for biting the Swede, though; the chap looks pretty battered. Other than that… Well, nine points. Weatherby?"
"Eh… full points." Percy was blushing. "It was well done… um, until the end."
Albus saw Madame Maxime sigh. She refrained from commenting any further. For his part, he no longer doubted the youngest judge was simply voicing the marks Umbridge had told him to distribute, for rewarding Krum more generously than Harry made no sense unless a specific agenda was in place.
"Well then, lovely." It could not be more patent Ludo had tired of the lengthy argument. "Professor Karkaroff, have you now decided on Mr Potter's points?"
The Durmstrang headmaster clenched his jaw.
"We all know he cheated. It's obvious you're hiding something. He also attacked ze grindylows, but as it turns out, zat vosn't against ze rules. Here is my opinion: you are all razer hypocritical when it comes to zis champion. Already for ze first task, Mr Potter seemed to know exactly vot he vos about to face. You may haff found it entertaining zat my French colleague demanded high points vhen her champion did nothing, and you may haff found it entertaining zat Viktor erred in his strategy, but ze three older champions—and yes, I'm including Mr Diggory—did vhat zey could. Harry Potter cheated, and if zis competition had been fair, he vould have been eliminated today. Zat's vhat he deserves: disqualification, not points. Vhy, he did not even understand ze task: instead of taking his hostage, he tried grabbing everyone in sight. You vill try to sell his stupidity as nobility, no doubt, but you know I am right. However, ze task vas completed, and ze fact zat he did not care about embarrassing his headmaster and attacking ze grindylows makes me zink he is at least goal-oriented. Zere is a potential zere. Seven points."
"Seven points." Ludo wrote the number down, entirely dismissing the rest of the tirade. "All righty, I will announce the points as follows: forty-seven for Mr Diggory, forty-five for Mr Potter, forty for Mr Krum, and twenty-five for Miss Delacour."
He marched off to address the public. At his verdict, ear-shattering cheers filled the stands while the champions smiled, happy to see the task finished, unaware of the rampant tension among the judges. Fleur Delacour, Albus saw, was applauding Harry as eagerly as either of his closest friends. Moved by her gratitude and relief, he made his way towards Justice, who had engaged Cucullu in a conversation. They had a celebratory lunch to look forward to, and he hoped for an opportunity to speak to that wizard. If they could form a friendship, much might depend on it.
AN: When writing this clash between Madame Maxime and Karkaroff, we were hoping to show the difference between two different mentalities. Broadly speaking, one can often come across the following attitude in many Western countries: "It's not the target itself that matters; it's not about crossing a duty off your list. What counts is the fact that you have taken part and done your best. You have learned something new along the way and, hopefully, had fun. This alone makes you a champion." Then there is the opposing mentality, sometimes encountered among Slavic nations and further towards the East: "You have to deliver the results. How you get there is entirely up to you; no one is going to judge you on that part. But you have to make sure the following tasks are completed by this date. Either you've succeeded, or you've failed." Without considering either mentality superior, we wanted to offer an example of a conflict they could lead to when pitted against each other. As always, thank you for reading!
Rabastan, once again, you made our day—no, our week. We are very glad the new chapter could serve as a bit of relaxing entertainment after your stressful workdays and hope the end of July has been at least a little less challenging! Thank you so much for your kind words and wonderful feedback! Reading your thoughts on Fudge and Umbridge, the Ministry's corruption, Ludo's role, and the small details from the wizarding world is a joy, and knowing you are enjoying this story is the greatest reward to our writing. We definitely have ideas for continuing Albus's story beyond the Goblet of Fire and hope everything will work out. Thank you very much!