Harry Potter and the Fourth Tower

by The-Nameless90

With Dumbledore gone, Grindelwald's remaining followers are finally able to carry out their plans for "the greater good" and install a Nazi-Germany-like regime. But luckily, the Deathstick found a worthy successor who will oppose them. Based solely on the original 7 books, Harry's story is continued. Realistic, increasingly powerful Harry, no AU. BOOK 1/3.

24. The Failed Champion

- Chapter Twenty Four -

The Failed Champion

'Ciaran...' said Harry hesitantly in the ring of wands. 'What are you doing?'

'I don't know who you are, but you're certainly not Mr Eakle!' the boy shouted back. His face was not in the least benign now, and his features no longer reflected Cedric's.

The three persons he had alerted looked at him uncertainly, except for one of them: the one Harry suspected was Draco Malfoy. His face showed an impassive calm.

'Are you sure, Ciaran?' he asked the boy, but didn't take his eyes off Harry.

'John Eakle would know who Benedetto Modesto is, he worked with my father for years for the International Confederation of Wizards! I heard them talk about old Benedetto a million times!' Ciaran replied, still shouting, which was only inaudible to others because the stadium directly next to them was in a state of pandemonium; there was the occasional clapping and cheering, the sound of cheering songs and school anthems.

Harry looked at Hermione; her face showed fear and annoyance.

'Listen Ciaran...' Harry tried to strike a patient tone. 'I was at your uncles', they called me right after you disappeared...'

'If so, tell me what you bought me for my tenth birthday!' Ciaran demanded. 'If you are John Eakle, you must know!'

Harry knew immediately that he was in big trouble. From then on, there was no turning back, he was finally exposed. Suddenly, he could no longer hold back, and the anger at the successful trap was all over his face.

'See?! He's just a thief,' the boy shouted to his older companions. 'He said that he needed the cloak, that's why he came!'

Malfoy's eyes lit up at this, and he looked at Harry.

'Hello, Potter,' he said suddenly, smiling.

Hermione's astonished expression confirmed Malfoy's opinion, as his smile grew even wider. Behind his back, three of his companions looked at each other in surprise, Ciaran dropped his jaw, staring at Harry.

'I knew you wouldn't let it go, and you'd come after the cloak,' said Malfoy. 'It's not enough that I saved your life, eh?'

'You saved it?!' Hermione yelled suddenly. 'You broke into our house, set it on fire, robbed us, and on top of that you're in the service of a madman again! Have you learned nothing, Malfoy?'

'Granger?' Malfoy looked at her wide-eyed. 'I should have known that wherever Potter went, you'd be there too. Where's the Weasley rat? Or was he a coward to come here to the dragon's den?'

As if nothing had happened, Harry thought. He was beginning to think Malfoy had learned something. That conversation in the lift after Zabini's death... then the rescue at the burning house... Now, again, it was as if he was facing the same Malfoy who had been boasting about his assignment from Voldemort at the Hogwarts Express.

'You've got a big mouth, Malfoy...' Harry whispered with nerves that were stretched to the breaking point.

'Let me give you a piece of advice!' he said, as if he had not heard him. 'Pick up your beard, turn round and walk home. You'd better keep your nose out of what's going on.'

The two Durmstrang students laughed stupidly at Malfoy's words. Harry already understood their place: two more Crabbe and Goyle. Only Ciaran stood out from the distinguished group (Harry noticed right away that the boy wasn't laughing with them, but rather anxiously awaiting the developments).

Hermione glanced furtively at Harry; she knew very well that time was short. Gritting his teeth, Harry raised his wand, surveying his opponents.

'Instead, let me tell you something...' he hissed, as Draco's grin faded and he readied his wand, a tenth of a second before Harry yelled: 'STUPEFY'

His opponents barely had time to blink, and were instantly hit one by one by a jet of red light, which only Malfoy could deflect. The charm struck a pine tree, breaking it in half. The tree went down with a thud.

Harry was most surprised at what had happened: he had uttered the incantation only once, yet four beams of light had come from the tip of his wand, towards four targets, which now lay spread out before him, Ciaran right at Malfoy's feet.

'How did you do that?!' Malfoy gasped, staggering back from him.

Hermione gaped, looking alternately at Harry's face and the wand in his hand.

'No idea,' Harry muttered, forgetting for a moment where they were and what they were doing. He'd never seen anyone perform more than one spell at a time, not even Voldemort – no one except Dumbledore. He remembered how the white-haired wizard had fought against several opponents at once, but he always thought he performed his spells so quickly as if he did them seemingly all at once...

When he came to his senses, he tore his staring gaze away from his magical device and fixed it on Malfoy. The former Slytherin boy ran away at breakneck speed. Harry would have started after him, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

'Where are you going?' she snapped at him. 'We have other things to do!'

With that, she led him impetuously towards the stadium entrance.

'You're right,' Harry muttered, taking another look at the unconscious Ciaran. He felt some guilt at having to stun the boy, but he had no choice. They would have time to explain everything to him later, when they were back home at the Diggory House.

He didn't lie about anything other than his name to Ciaran, everything he said about his uncle and helping against Kingsley was true and he meant it. When they got home, he would do everything in his power to make sure Ciaran's truth was revealed and that the Minister and that other Auror paid for what they had done. Murder cannot be forgiven...

With Hermione hot on his heels, they ran up the creaky wooden stairs to the main entrance of the stadium, dodged two security guards who only glanced at them and turned their attention back to the events inside.

Harry and Hermione arrived at the stand, and the third task was unfolding before their eyes. The rows of spectators in the stadium surrounded an arena like a colloseum, with a high mound of earth rising in the middle. As they looked closer, they saw that the mound was riddled with holes, as if some kind of animals had made tunnels in it – probably the erklings, Harry thought. There was no sign of the champions, surely they were all inside the castle, getting closer and closer to the Triwizard's Cup, and perhaps to Harry's invisibility cloak.

'Hermione...' said Harry quietly, 'tell me, what are erklings?'

The girl looked at him – she had been staring at the mound, panting from running.

'They are elf-like beasts,' she replied. 'About the size of Kreacher...'

'And are they dangerous?'

The girl shrugged.

'To children, yes...' she said, and then, gripping her side, she straightened up and pointed towards the stands. 'There sits Moloh and the jury. We must tell...'

At that moment, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the air from the depths of the erkling castle. The schools' anthems fell silent, replaced by a roar from the audience, many of whom were hooting and talking excitedly.

'That's certainly not due to the erklings,' Hermione shook her head with a worried expression.

Such a scream would not have been panic-inducing in itself, Harry thought, but he could not ignore Marius, who was probably waiting for the champions at the bottom of the castle.

'We have to do something!' Hermione said nervously, and Harry sprang into action.

Ignoring the guard wizards behind him, he leapt over the railing, his boot-clad feet thudding dully on the arena's trodden ground. No one in the audience noticed him at first, but when he ran inside, straight to the stands of judges and teachers, everyone spotted him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several people get up from their benches, pointing in his direction, and a curious murmur arose in the crowd.

'Stop!' shouted Harry at the top of his voice. 'Stop!'

He saw that the guard wizards had also thrown themselves over the low rail and were moving towards him with their wands drawn, but he was not in the least disturbed. He was staring straight into Moloh's from his curiosity wide-open eyes, addressing his orders to him alone, and imploring the groveling headmaster to obey him. He waved his hand wildly, shouting incessantly.

'Stop the competition!'

Moloh was already leaning against the railing, waving one hand angrily at the wizards rushing towards Harry, before they slowed and stood perplexed between the edge of the pitch and Harry. Then the headmaster pointed his wand at his own throat.

'Quiet!' he bellowed, because the roar of the crowd in the stands made it impossible to make out anything Harry was saying.

Professor McGonagall was also standing next to Moloh, blinking uncomprehendingly at his presumed DADA teacher. Next to him, Ron, disguised as Percy, was leaning against the railing, and Harry could see that his friend had his wand in his hand, ready for anything.

'Everybody be quiet! SILENCE!' thundered the half-giant director, and slowly everyone obeyed. The stadium became so silent that not a peep could be heard.

'Stop the competition!' Harry ordered again. 'We have a huge problem! The champions are in danger! You must end the third task now!'

He also saw Dawlish's face appear above the railing. The Auror was scrutinising him with his usual piercing eyes, and was saying something to Professor McGonagall. Harry really hoped that his busybody ex-colleague would not interfere.

Hermione then came up to Harry.

'Do you think this is a good idea?' she whispered the question in his ear.

'We'll soon find out...' replied Harry, and then he addressed his words to the director again, 'Director Moloh, the competition is being sabotaged by an unauthorised intruder! There's a murderer in the school!'

The big wizard, ignoring McGonagall's pale face, immediately turned to Ron and told him something that the others could not hear. Ron then turned to the other organisers, a whistle blew three times to signal the end of the competition, and wizards in robes started towards the erkling castle – perhaps magical creature caretakers, Harry thought.

'That was easier than I thought...' he remarked to Hermione.

Another scream sounded from the depths of the castle, this time much louder, perhaps because of the silence outside. And then, like a bursting bubble, the simultaneous sound of terrified shouts and the thumping of a thousand feet on the floor filled the ears as the crowd of spectators stampeded over each other to take the shortest route out of the stadium. Moloh started shouting again, this time in German, giving instructions to everyone, and the crowd did calm down a little, and they all followed the instructions of the guard wizards and spilled out of the stands, but Harry and Hermione didn't wait for that.

When they heard the second wail of the troubled champion from below, they immediately left for the castle and headed for the biggest hole, where they thought the entrance was. At the other exits stood one or two wizards with wands in their hands with large lattice boxes beside them, into which they were luring the erklings with a spell. As far as Harry could tell while running, the elf-like creatures didn't seem too dangerous.

They entered the castle, which from the inside looked as if fine-meshed earth and sand had been patched with the saliva of a million ants, but so large that a straightened man could fit in the passages.

'Lumos!' they both whispered, and with their glowing wands held out in front of them, they walked on. The light illuminated the walls only in a small circle, everything else was hidden by darkness.

Harry already knew that this was the point of the task: to test the champions based on uncertainty and fear.

'Hermione, this is going to be a maze,' he said quietly, 'It's like the old third test...'

'It's a bit different,' she said, pointing around. 'You can not only get lost horizontally here!'

Harry looked around the walls. Ahead of them, a hole in the ground led down deep into another tunnel, and the tunnel they were in also sloped sharply downwards.

'How will we find the champions in time?' Hermione whimpered, spinning around and scanning the thousands of tunnels by the flickering light of her wand.

Harry saw shadows flickering, swift movement where the light of the wand was cast. Some of the erklings still lurked around them, despite the efforts of the magical creature keepers.

Suddenly there was a sound of rapid footsteps, which Harry knew immediately were human this time. He nudged Hermione's elbow as they both waited in anticipation for the arrival, who they had already seen in the tunnel. One of the champions was hurrying out of the tunnel, her knees and buttocks dirty from the ground, her forearms showing small scratches that looked like they had been made by tiny clawed hands. It was the French girl, and seeing Harry and Hermione, she began to babble something they could not understand. When she saw this, she tried again:

'Don't know what 'appen? Why the end of it? Is there trouble?'

Hermione was quick to calm her down, and as if she were one of the organisers of the Tournament, assured the Beauxbatons girl that everything was fine, just that the competition had been cancelled and everything would be explained up above. The girl left and they continued downhill.

'How big can this all be?' Harry asked.

'Professor Ulatov said the stone chest is in the cellar. It must be at the bottom of the labyrinth,' she guessed. 'It can't be far from here...'

At that moment, something large leapt out of the shadows in front of them, scaring Harry and Hermione to death with a terrible screech. The girl fell screaming on her buttocks, and Harry was not far from falling when the thing smashed straight into his face.

'Ahhh!' shouted Harry in horror. His wand slipped out of his hand and he reached for it in vain.

Immediately three small, elf-like creatures crawled on top of him, their hands tearing at his hair and beard, clawed fingers scratching Harry's skin, giggling all the while. Their giggles were reminiscent of hyenas, and only Harry's roars and Hermione's shouts were louder. Their pale brown skin clung filthily to their scrawny limbs, their ridiculously long and pointed noses used as weapons to poke the boy wherever they could.

'Help me!'

'Hold on, Harry,' she urged, and aimed at them from her seat. 'Impedimenta! Impedimenta!'

Two little beasts immediately flew off Harry's back, but Hermione's third curse hit the boy, sending him sprawling onto the opposite wall.

'Oh, Harry, I'm sorry! Try not to move!'

The two creatures that flew off escaped on all fours, but the last one proved very tough.

'Get it off me!' Harry demanded, as he used his fists in a scythe-like motion to pull the creature off of him, making Hermione's job more difficult. The beast giggled half-madly as he did so, one hand gripping Harry's long beard and the other pounding his head insistently.

'Petrificus Totalus!' cried Hermione, and Harry felt all his limbs stiffen as they were, and with them the creature also froze. Hermione ran over, prised the animal off his back, and with a loose movement threw it to the other end of the passage as if it were a dry piece of wood.

'Finite,' she murmured, turning to Harry again, and he felt the life return to his frozen limbs.

Hermione took a deep breath at the interlude, but there was no fright in her eyes now.

'These are the erklings,' she announced, and added a little mirthless laughter.

'You said they were only dangerous to children!' Harry snarled. She looked him up and down meaningfully.

'Okay, I see, never mind,' Harry said and then picked up his wand and motioned for them to go on.

Lower and lower they went down the pitch-black tunnel, and Harry had to admit that as a champion he would have been shivering at every turn.

'Careful, don't fall,' Hermione said as they struggled over a deep hole.

Turning the next corner, they heard a sound different from the universal noise, shouting and scratching: someone was crying softly. They looked at each other and then, with increased caution, continued downhill towards the sound. They were both sure that they had to go to where the crying came from, not for a moment thinking otherwise.

The tunnel ended up in a cavity that was larger than the previous ones. In contrast to the stifling heat of the castle, the temperature here was almost freezing, and Harry could see his own breath dispersing like vapour.

They could hear the crying man (a boy by the sounds of it) well inside, but for now they just listened. In addition to the sniffling, they now detected a unmistakable grunt. Harry cautiously peeked into the hollow by the wall.

Dennis Creevey, the short champion of Hogwarts, knelt in the middle, holding a translucent-looking cloth that Harry recognised immediately. The blue-skinned man stood a few feet in front of him, in front of an ornate, solid rock wall so unlike the fine-grained dust-patched walls of the erkling castle. Could it be the foundations of Durmstrang, Harry wondered?

Marius waved his wand in front of his own face and cast a spell with his eyes closed. Harry did not recognise the gestures, but he understood at once that the unnatural chill emanated from the small, shapeless ball of vapour and frost that floated before the wizard's wand. A winter chill emanated from it, Harry was sure that if he touched it his fingers would freeze, yet Marius grinned as he cast the spell.

Harry turned back to Hermione.

'We have to go in there,' he told her, 'There's no other way, we have to fight him. The patronuses can take care of him, he's afraid of them...'

The girl put her hand on his arm and nodded, indicating that she was ready. She swallowed hard and Harry saw her breathing quicken. He wasn't surprised; Marius always gave him the creeps, and he was filled with disgust, as he was now. What on earth could this man be doing?

He peered out from behind the wall again, this time a little more boldly. Marius now held a bottle in one hand, its thin mouth held towards the shapeless sphere. With a slight movement of his wand, the sphere slid into the bottle. Marius then opened his eyes.

'Who is there?' his deep voice immediately growled.

Harry pulled his head back too late, but he knew they would have to face him sooner or later. They both stepped forward, out of the shadows, showing themselves to the blue-skinned man. Marius' bright eyes narrowed as he surveyed them. They immediately pointed their wands at him.

'Don't move!' said Hermione in a trembling voice.

'We know you're afraid of patronuses,' Harry added, and a small silvery light lit up on the tip of his wand.

Marius growled, but didn't move, watching idly as the tall blonde girl and the red-bearded dwarf slowly crept up to the kneeling champion. He merely corked the bottle he held in his hand and put it away.

'Dennis... Dennis...' Harry and Hermione called to the boy.

The boy was in a terrible state, dripping with sweat, shaking and crying all over, and looking as if he had lost a lot of weight. He was wrinkling the cloak between his gaunt, pale fingers, as if trying to draw strength from it. Hermione's hand moved to the boy's shoulder.

'Accio!' came Marius' voice, and Harry and Hermione jumped with fright. The cloak of invisibility slipped from Dennis' fingers and landed in the open palm of the blue-skinned man's hand. He grinned and stuffed his possessions into the pocket of his robes. Harry looked at him from under his frowned, bushy eyebrows.

'Dennis,' Hermione crouched down next to the boy, who was now clinging to her arm. He looked up at her face for a moment, but not recognizing her, said nothing.

Harry stepped up to him, too, but he dared not bend down because of Marius, whom he kept his eyes on – he didn't need to, Dennis's head was barely a foot below his. The boy looked at him now, and realised who was there.

'Pro-professor?' he stammered. Harry hesitated for a moment.

'I'm here,' he said, taking the boy's hand.

'Professor... I failed,' he muttered ruefully, 'I couldn't finish the Tournament...'

Hermione whispered reassuringly to him, but he was talking only to who he believed was Professor Eakle. His eyes were doing a mad dance, he could hardly concentrate. Harry could see that Marius' spell had a very strong effect on him.

'It didn't work... I failed...' he kept saying. 'I couldn't open it... But that was all I needed. But the voice... the voice says I mustn't want to open the chest. Only that way I can open it...'

Marius laughed. The stone wall behind him was a rectangle, a good four metres high, sticking out of the wall of the erkling castle. There was nothing else in the hollow that could be called a chest...

Harry and Hermione stared at each other.

'The voice?' they asked the boy. Dennis nodded with trembling limbs.

'I hear a voice, Professor... Now it's laughing at me... Laughing because I can't finish the tournament... And I would have won!' There was so much bitterness in his voice, as if he was facing the biggest failure imaginable. For Dennis, maybe it was.

'He can't see him,' Hermione gaped, her eyes wide open. Marius laughed even louder.

It seemed Dennis became so ill of the blue-skinned man that he couldn't even see his tormentor, who had somehow managed to hide himself from his sight.

'Marius...'

A disembodied voice called to the wizard, who stopped laughing in an instant and reached into his pocket for something. At the same time Harry and Hermione raised their wands ready to attack. Marius was not at all interested in what they were doing; he held up a small triangular mirror to his face.

'Two strangers appeared. Should I kill them?' Marius didn't even try to speak quietly into the two-way mirror, not caring at all if they heard what he was saying.

'Did the spell work?' came the sharp, shrill voice again.

'No. It didn't work out with the boy,' the blue-skinned man said, as Harry watched his features.

Marius did not look frightened, nor did he show the fear of a Death Eater who has failed in his duty to his master. Marius at least seemed to regard Moloh, or whoever else on the other side of the mirror, as an equal.

After a short pause, the alien voice spoke again:

'Try it with them.'

That was all it said, then Marius put the two-way mirror away and turned his gaze back to them.

'Penelope, take Dennis upstairs,' Harry whispered, realising what was coming, but Hermione just stared at Marius.

'Penelope!' repeated Harry a little louder, and shook the edge of her robe. Hermione flinched a little and finally looked at him.

'Take Dennis upstairs, leave him to me.'

'Oh, no, I'm not leaving you with him!' she protested, when she realised what Harry was asking her to do. She shook her head in horror, taking care to keep her wand on Marius, and not to let Dennis's fainting body slip from her grasp.

Harry gave him a confident smile.

'Don't worry, I know what I'm doing,' he lied.

'But Harry...' Tears of worry welled up in Hermione's eyes.

That was one of the reasons why Harry wanted her to be gone. He knew how afraid Hermione was of Marius, and he was even more afraid that she would end up like Katie Bell.

'Dennis can't stay here, and he can't go up on his own,' Harry tried to reason, and seemed to have finally convinced Hermione.

'Are you sure?' she asked. Harry nodded.

'Then I'll hurry back...' That's all she said; she picked Dennis up, whispered a few words of encouragement in his ear, and they slowly made their way towards the exit.

All the while Harry kept his eyes on the blue-skinned man, but he didn't move, didn't try to stop his victim from leaving, just pulled a sly half-smile and flashed his eyes at Harry.

'Harry Potter...' the blue-skinned man whispered when they were alone.

Harry just blinked a few times – either he or Hermione had obviously made a slip of the tongue, which gave Marius a clue as to his identity.

'I suppose you've come for the third Hallow,' the wizard told him.

Harry was surprised by this openness, but he had no intention of arguing: 'Yes, among other things. You tried to steal it from me... But only the headmaster succeeded,' he added.

Marius ignored the derisive remark, just waved his wand casually in his hand. He said nothing for a while, and Harry waited, every nerve in his body on edge, knowing that all hell was about to break loose.

Finally Marius spoke up.

'You've sent your friend away,' he said. 'But you couldn't have managed alone last time. Let's face it: I'm too much for you, pal!'

A confident grin spread across his blue face, and Harry felt a strong urge to wipe it off.

'You just were,' he said to him.

'Ah, yes, the patronus,' Marius said. 'You surprised me with that spell. The other patronuses didn't have that effect on me. But yours was... different. It was stronger.'

Harry shook his head.

'The patronus is not different, you are different. You may have a soul and a face, but you're just a dementor.'

This managed to wipe the grin off Marius's face, and Harry was immensely pleased with himself.

'I'm not a dementor!' sputtered the blue-skinned man. 'I am human! I have a father and a mother! I have a name!' As he raged, his eyes blazed with even an more fierce blue light, his long canines flashing in his mouth.

Harry made a mental note: now he knew what he could get Marius upset. He wanted to end the conversation and get down to business.

'Prove it,' continued Harry to press on. 'If you're human, you can beat me. But if not...'

The open question hovered between them as Marius watched his opponent with a twitching jaw. Then, when Harry saw that he had come to a conclusion, which surely meant that he had every intention of sending him to the next world, Marius raised his wand over his shoulder with both hands, pointing it at Harry.

Harry was ready, too, and he stood spread-eagled, raising his wand in a light gesture to strike. He knew what he was going to do, there was no doubt, no fear as he looked into the smoldering blue eyes, and before they struck, he felt the calmness spreading through his chest.

They moved at the same time, yet Harry was a split second ahead of his opponent.

'Expecto Patronum!'

'Nocturne Castus!'

The patronus' light illuminated the dark room, the stag reared in front of Marius. It was huge, much bigger than it had ever been before, more powerful than the one he had used to run down a hundred dementors. It glowed like a magnificent constellation, its pure power only allowing Marius to somewhat restrain the blinding light with magic; from the end of his wand came thick black smoke with an earth-shaking roar, and lightning struck in all directions. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, straining to push the stag back, but it always charged again, and from the phoenix wand pure power was pulsating.

And then Harry finally understood. The answer was always hidden somewhere in a corner of his mind, but he had never bothered to really pay attention. But now he knew, with absolute certainty, that the weapon he'd put back in Dumbledore's tomb with which he had repaired the broken phoenix wand was not the Wand of Destiny. Not any more. The Deathstick is what he was now holding in his hand, it became it the moment he had decided to continue to use it.

That's why the ordinary phoenix feather holly wand became the Wand of Destiny... That's why he could summon the Resurrection Stone so easily back home in the Forbidden Forest... That's why the phoenix wand tingled where the Deathstick had been taken from Grindelwald, and where its previous owner lay in the grave... That's why it vibrated at the mere mention of its name... Because it was now the invincible wand.

Dumbledore didn't know, or he would have warned him, Harry thought. Or maybe the old man wouldn't have told him? Could it be that Dumbledore knew that once he had won the Elder Wand, it would never leave him again, even if he put it back in the tomb? Was it all in vain, because its power would move to another wand?

Marius now attacked with renewed vigour, his wand spewing forth a smoke of terrifying power, which any other wand would probably have failed against. The ground shook, the huge stone chest embedded in the wall behind Marius slowly slid out as great chunks of the side of the erkling burrow tore from its bulging sides.

'Don't even hope to beat me!' roared the blue-skinned wizard, and, seeming to contradict his words, the black curse that had burst from his wand vanished for a moment – only to be followed by Marius to swing his wand again a brief second later, striking his opponent with an even more fearsome force.

The smoke came again, the lightning again covered the cavern, the back wall of which was cracked by the sparkling storm, and the huge stone chest was turned over. As it slipped out, more huge pieces were torn from the wall and the ceiling. One mass of earth fell directly on Marius' back – the sorcerer collapsed on the ground, his curse instantly vanished and the glowing stag slithered unhindered over him. Harry followed the patronus with his gaze as he turned gracefully and ran around Marius and then back to his master. It had shrunk to the size of a common stag, and stood majestically between Harry and Marius, standing guard, watching.

Harry's newfound power of his wand made him stride confidently towards his opponent. Marius pushed himself into a push-up, his wand clutched convulsively in his blue grip. His black, dishevelled hair framed his fiercely snarling face; he looked mental and fearsome.

'We're not done yet...' the blue-skinned man hissed between his teeth.

Harry ignored him.

'Accio Cloak!' he said, and now the spell worked: the cloak of invisibility sprang like a ghost from the pocket of Marius' robe and landed in Harry's palm. He ran his fingers through the water-like, magical substance and knew at once that he had the original, not a copy.

'I will get it back!' Marius said, and scrambled to his feet. Harry pointed the wand at him.

'Do you even know why you were set against me?' he asked him.

'They needed the Cloak,' said Marius, keeping one eye on the patronus standing beside Harry.

'And do you know why you were incited to kill those people in the schools?' Harry continued, almost without waiting for an answer to his previous question.

'They were Riddle's servants!' snapped the blue-skinned man. 'That's why I killed them! They all deserved death!'

Harry felt that now was the moment, perhaps now he could talk some sense into the wizard.

'You are wrong,' he said calmly. 'Not all of them were Death Eaters. There were others on the list who had nothing to do with Voldemort.'

Marius was no longer looking at the patronus, but at Harry. He was obviously intrigued by this statement.

'That's what the old man tried to do when he...'

'When you killed a friend of mine,' Harry finished instead, and an image flashed in his mind of the dead Katie Bell in George's arms. He pushed the thought away; he mustn't let the hatred distract him, he must remain calm.

Marius shrugged.

'She shouldn't have been there,' he said. 'I warned you. Riddle wouldn't have given you that.'

'That's true,' Harry admitted. 'But Riddle wouldn't have let himself be taken advantage of. He's different from you in that respect. He wouldn't let himself be made a fool of...'

'Shut up!' shouted Marius, his face contorted.

The wizard stamped his foot, sparks falling from his wand, but did not attack again. Perhaps it was because he feared the patronus, perhaps it was because he was interested in what Harry had to say; Harry hoped it was the latter.

'If you want revenge on Voldemort, you have chosen the wrong enemy,' he continued to push his point, watching the blue-skinned man's reaction. He suspected he was about to cross a line – whether it would be good for him or not, he had no way of knowing.

'Just so you know, after you failed to take my Cloak, two former Death Eaters were sent to get it. One of them is here at Durmstrang right now, named Draco Malfoy.' Marius just growled. Harry tried a different tactic: 'The truth candles in the Peverell House did not show Voldemort's followers on the map. They marked the schools that Voldemort and the inner circle, the Circle of the Fourth Tower, wanted to take over! You played right into their hand by getting them the schools they wanted, you killed the headmasters who had nothing to do with Voldemort.'

Harry seemed to be talking to a wall.

'Do not bother me with your lies,' Marius snapped. 'My father gave me that list, he said it would help me get revenge.'

'Your father?' Harry gasped.

The blue-skinned man tilted his head slightly forward, causing his raven-black hair to fall into his face, covering one blazing eye.

'Your father's name is Octavius Prince, isn't it?' Harry squinted at him, and a thought flashed through his mind as he recalled his only encounter with the obnoxious wizard. He didn't even wait for Marius to answer the question. 'I've met your father. Almost a year ago, on Remembrance Day. He was there when we unveiled the statue in the courtyard of Hogwarts, the one that had been erected to honour the fallen when Voldemort was defeated. And you know what?' Harry paused for effect, just to pique Marius' interest. 'Your father really didn't like statue. He got into a row with McGonagall, not happy that the statue glorified Voldemort's defeat. It seemed to me that your father would have preferred to serve the murderer of his son rather than live freely...'

Marius's blue face went quite pale. For the first time, he looked at Harry as if he couldn't believe his ears.

'How do you know what Riddle did to me?' he asked so quietly that Harry could almost only read the question from his lips.

'Guess what, I know everything!' he said, again deciding to use the show-off tactic which he hoped was the best way to get the most out of it. 'I also know that you made a Horcrux that Voldemort couldn't find. I also know how Alethea betrayed you...'

'DON'T YOU DARE TO SAY HER NAME WITH YOUR MOUTH!' roared Marius, swinging his wand and striking a red bolt at Harry, who was caught off guard. He drew his shield around himself at the last moment, but the curse still struck uncomfortably close to him; he felt the heat on his face and the power shaking the ceiling. Already he was preparing to counter-attack, but Marius made no further attempt of a feint, only stood with clenched teeth and fists, raging. His curse was only a warning.

There was a sound of footsteps and shuffling from one of the tunnels, and soon Hermione burst into the room, her long blonde dishevelled hair framing her worried face. She immediately pointed her wand at Marius, but he only paid her a glance, still snarling at Harry.

'Are you all right?' Harry asked Hermione.

The look on her face told him that it would have been more appropriate for her to ask the question, but since Harry had beaten her to it, she answered.

'Yes, I took Dennis upstairs and left him in the care of Professor McGonagall, and then I hurried back as fast as I could,' she muttered, and then looked at the blue-skinned man again. 'What happened here?'

'Don't go near him,' Harry took her arm as she took a step towards the wizard, 'I'll talk to him for a bit more, you take the cloak up, please, and look after it!'

'Did you get it back?' Hermione looked at him wide-eyed as he held up the magical cloth.

'Yes,' said Harry. 'Don't let anyone see it on you!'

Hermione nodded hurriedly, took the cloak from Harry, and with one more distrustful glance at Marius, headed for the passage leading up.

But then something happened that caught them all by surprise.

The ground suddenly shook, and the marks carved into the huge stone chest flashed for a moment, dazzling, like the patronus. Marius' blue eyes were fixed on the phenomenon, Harry and Hermione, however, looked at something else: the invisibility cloak was now everything but invisible – on the contrary, it exuded a shimmering golden light, as if the water-soft threads from which the cloak was woven had suddenly turned into golden threads. If not for his astonishment, Harry would have found the phenomenon breathtakingly beautiful.

'Harry!' she screamed, dropping the cloak to the ground, which continued to spill its warm light.

Meanwhile, the huge stone chest absorbed the light from it, and the cave was bathed in a mysterious, yellowish gloom – the only light was from the cloak.

'So it does work at last!' Marius said, whispering, and looked curiously at the terrified Hermione. 'What have you done with it, girl? What was the key?'

Harry was keen to have an answer to that too; Hermione just stood there, flat against the wall, shaking her head wildly, staring at the cloak.

Another tremor shook the castle, and the alarm bell rang in Harry's head. He ran towards Hermione.

'The whole thing will collapse!' he shouted and grabbed her by the arm.

Around the stone chest, whole clumps of rubble were torn out of the wall and covered the tiled floor.

'Marius!' screamed Hermione, pointing behind Harry.

He did not even look back, just waved his wand wildly, and shouted at the top of his voice:

'Protego!'

The shield charm stretched out between them and the blue-skinned man's curse bounced off with an echo.

The ominous tremors and shaking of the room did not subside, but only grew stronger. Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak from the floor (he was momentarily surprised to find it as cool to the touch as usual) and, with Hermione, began to rush up the tunnel.

The erklings were no longer in their way, all scurrying away from the ominous signs and the increasingly loud booming tone, which Harry was only now beginning to make out as he pushed Hermione up into one of the ceiling-cut passages and then climbed up after her himself.

'Harry, what do you think is happening?' he heard Hermione's voice.

'The chest is opening!' he shouted back at her. 'And I don't want to be there when it happens...'

'Dumbledore didn't seal that chest for nothing,' he kept repeating to himself. It was not by accident that he had tied its opening to one of the Deathly Hallows, of which he knew only one at the time, which was kept safe with himself. No, Dumbledore did not want the contents of the chest to ever come to light...

They were only a few metres from the surface when Harry suddenly heard a huge thundering noise from below. He turned back and saw the golden light glowing like the sun behind him. He knew what was about to happen...

'Hermione, faster!' he shouted at her.

They emerged from the last tunnel and started running towards the exit.

The chill air was a slap in the face after the sultry heat of the erkling castle; the stadium was filled with puzzled guard wizards, not daring to approach the phenomenon. Ron was standing among them, and he let out a grateful sigh as he spotted his friends.

Harry and Hermione slowed, then stopped, and turned to see the roof of the erkling castle crumbling, and where there was a gap, golden flames were shooting up from the ground, just as they had last time at the magical eruption.

Harry glanced at the cloak in his hand: it was no longer glowing, he didn't know when the light had gone out – it seemed to have finished its task. The stone chest must be open now, Harry thought. They stood there for minutes without a word, watching the earth, rippling like water, push the stone chest to the surface.

'By Merlin's holy beard!' someone in the crowd howled.

Slowly the dust settled and it was possible to see what had brought the huge mass of stone up from the depths: at the top of the slanting chest, towering above the stunned crowd, stood the blue-skinned man, balancing the monstrosity with his own wand and that of Dennis Creevey. His long black hair and cloak swirled around him, the ends of the wands glowing and shaking from the great effort it had taken to cast the spell.

When it was over and the fire was gone, the marks on the chest no longer shone, all was quiet. A woman's scream was the first to break the silence, as she noticed Marius's terrifying features.

'What is this?' some shouted, others immediately pointed their wands at him.

Dawlish gasped for breath, McGonagall covered her mouth, Madame Maxime took a hesitant step towards him, but then changed her mind. Those who remained inside the stadium were all adults, all the students had been herded back to school; there was Newt Scamander, Mrs Parker from the Mystery Department, Viktor Krum and almost the entire Durmstrang faculty, but Harry's eyes were searching for Moloh. The headmaster was nowhere to be seen.

There was a deafening crackling sound, followed by a strong gust of wind. Harry spun around; Marius somehow vanished into thin air, but before he did, he shattered the stone chest, which was no longer protected by the powerful charms. The mass of stone opened in the middle, as if it had been split with engineering precision, and from its inside a mass of glittering gold poured out at the feet of the astonished crowd. Round talismans, silver and bronze coins poured out endlessly, piled in great heaps.

Harry was speechless for a moment, as were the people around him.

'Money...?' he finally expressed his surprise.

From the faces of the others he could read the same; they all suspected something evil, buried magical weapons or horrible curses escaping, as he himself did.

As he looked closer, he discovered among the abundance of gold a few shining swords, one or more scattered pieces of armour, and a few interesting things, such as a pair of binoculars with a gold-plated cover, or a cauldron with a diamond clasp, but these seemed to be parts of the treasure rather than dangerous, cursed objects.

The treasure was abundant, astonishingly abundant. Almost indecently abundant. The most substantial fortune Harry had ever seen in his life was in the Lestrange family safe, but this was greater by several orders of magnitude. Harry suspected that with that much gold, he could buy Hogwarts itself, along with all the Quidditch teams in Scotland, and still have enough left over to take everyone he knew on a luxury round-the-world trip.

'This was guarded so heavily?' Hermione whispered in a wheezing voice, as if she no longer thought the huge amount of gold worth protecting.

Besides her, there were many others, some in English, some in German, some in other languages, all expressing their astonishment.

'I don't understand...' muttered Professor McGonagall from between clasped fingers, 'I remember Dumbledore saying that this chest was full of dangerous devices.'

'That's what I heard, too,' Newt Scamander nodded at her seriously.

A teacher from Durmstrang was screeching something in German.

'What did he say?' someone asked.

'That he was here when the chest was sealed. Gellert Grindelwald told Dumbledore before their famous duel what was in the chest,' Professor McGonagall interpreted.

'Perhaps Grindelwald lied,' said an Italian sorcerer.

A few of them took a few steps towards the pile of gold, but then Dawlish's voice rang out, surprisingly clear:

'I don't recommend anyone to touch the gold!' he warned the people. 'The treasure could easily be cursed. If it was Grindelwald's...'

'You're right,' said one of the teachers. 'For all we know, Albus Dumbledore warned everyone not to open the chest.'

'But who was the blue guy?' asked someone in the crowd.

'Maybe he wanted to heist it...'

'Let's call in the curse breakers, they'll examine the treasure!' suggested a bearded wizard.

Ron leaned over to Harry's ear.

'I think we should go,' he suggested in a whisper so no one else could hear. Harry gave a silent nod of agreement. Now that he knew what was in the chest, he didn't feel it was so important to have a say in who did what with the money. All he cared about was where Marius had disappeared to and why he had left all that gold.

Ron tugged gently on the sleeve of Hermione's robe, but she stared at her feet. Several coins rolled away, one landing just in front of her shoe; Hermione drew her wand and floated the gold coin, the size of a cup, at eye level.

'Penelope!' said Ron, but she waved them closer with her hand.

The crowd ignored them, still wondering about the treasure, some running off to take action, calling for curse breakers and other officials for such cases.

'Look!' said Hermione quietly to her two friends. She pointed a pale finger at one side of the coin.

The gold coin was not a galleon, as Harry had expected, but some other currency. Where a galleon should have had the crest of Gringotts Bank on it, this one had the familiar symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

'I think I know what this money is!' muttered Hermione, her face flushed with excitement. 'Grindelwald minted this, it was to be the official currency of his realm.'

'Good for him,' Ron concluded, and began to pull her out of the crowd. The coin fell into the dust with a tinkle.

As they tried to walk away unobtrusively, Ron began a muffled report.

'After your big scene, Moloh immediately told us to stop the competition. It was strange, because I was watching his sneaky face, but he didn't give himself away with a single nose scratch,' he said, his gesticulation looking very alien next to Percy's features. 'He seemed quite sincere...'

'We've seen villains who seemed sincere before, Ron,' Hermione remarked darkly.

Ron shrugged.

'Well, but this Moloh didn't seem to me to be that bright...'

'And what else did Moloh do after that?' Harry asked. He urgently wanted to know any details that might clear the picture up a little.

'Well...', Ron scratched his head, 'He had a lot of German conversations with the teachers about what to do now. I didn't really understand, but I think Moloh ran off to take the anti-disapparition jinx off the castle so people could leave.'

As they approached the entrance, they could see the dark silhouette of the crowd waiting outside – the startled guests and students did not seem to have fled, but had moved just far enough away to be out of the immediate danger, but still see the exciting bits.

'So what about Marius?' Ron asked. 'Did you find the cloak, or...'

'Shh!' hissed Hermione. 'We're not going to discuss this here...'

The crowd outside started to move in through the wide entrance. They seemed to have started at the same time, not crowding, but approaching in orderly lines. Harry stopped his friends with an outstretched arm.

He soon realised why the crowd seemed so shapeless from a distance: they were all wearing midnight-black robes, in contrast to the red of the Durmstrang students, and as they drew closer, Harry was shocked to see that their faces were covered with the same ornate, bejewelled mask, which also covered that of the wizards who occupied the Burrow. But what almost drew his, Ron's and Hermione's gaze was the tall figure of Maude Moloh, whose height made him stand out instantly from the crowd of hooded people.

'Oh my God!' Hermione covered her mouth.

'What the hell?!' Ron groaned with wide eyes.

'I think we're in trouble,' Harry muttered with a pounding heart.

No sooner had he said it than the chattering crowd behind them erupted in shouts as the intruders pushed their way into the arena, and then immediately turned wand against wand. Harry, Ron and Hermione also took out theirs, and hurriedly retreated back into the somewhat safe crowd, close to McGonagall, Madame Maxime and Dawlish.

'Everyone stay where you are!' said a masked man standing next to Moloh. Harry glared with hatred at the half-giant wizard, who then came forward among the masked men.

Was it possible that Moloh simply wanted the money? Certainly, a fortune of that size would tempt anyone, but Moloh seemed more the power-hungry than the money-hungry type... Would he have misjudged the director that much? Had his instincts failed him again?

He soon had to admit that he had been much more wrong about the director than he had thought.

As Moloh stepped forward from the row of sorcerers closest to Harry, there was a bang and the Durmstrang headmaster fell to his knees. The teachers shouted in outrage.

'This halfblood mutt wanted to send an owl to the Chancellery. We caught him just in time,' said one of the masked men thunderously, who had shoved the headmaster to his knees with a curse, as if he were talking to a certain person Harry couldn't see anywhere.

Moloh's eyes shone with anger and contempt as he looked at someone in the midst of the crowd surrounding Harry. He didn't say anything, he only expressed his opinion with a huge spit into the dust.

'Who are you?'

'How did you get in?'

'What do you want?'

'This is trespassing!'

There was a barely audible din of shouting like this and similar statements. The masked men did not bother to respond; they surrounded and watched them.

'Harry...' whispered Hermione, and Harry looked at her. His friend was staring up at the sky.

At first he didn't understand what she thought was strange, then he noticed that the stars above had disappeared, and the cold was coming towards them like a sneaky, unstoppable monstrosity. Soon, he noticed the source of the phenomenon: a dementor in a black cloak had appeared at the highest point of the stadium's stands, but in way that it had just appeared out of nowhere.

'Our Viking friend has arrived too...', Ron remarked with a mutter.

And someone else has arrived, Harry noticed. The hooded wizard, with the indispensable triangle medallion around his neck, had emerged at the opposite side of the stadium. Harry didn't see him arrive, but he was sure he wasn't on foot. He couldn't see anything of his face as usual, but he knew he was watching him from behind the darkness of the hood. He stood there like a statue, not moving, as if he were an outsider watching the events.

Harry turned around on his axis, looking at the people in the circular arena. They were all here: the old dementor, the hooded boy, the masked men... They appeared in the stands as if all the characters appeared on stage at the end of a play, before the grand final scene.

The people, frightened by the masked sorcerers and the dementor, continued to shout, while others waited in tense silence to see what would happen.

One of the more elegantly cloaked wizards stepped out of the sea of black robes and jewelled masks, and with a satisfied smile on his face, he addressed one of the masked men in a way that everyone could hear:

'Ah, I see your mistress got my money back after all.'

A figure emerged from the frightened group of people behind Harry and walked past the three good friends with the utmost naturalness, wiping tears from her eyes.

'You've got your bloody money, Prince,' Ursula Ulatov said back to the sublime sorcerer, stopping in front of the masked men who greeted her with a deep bow. Her voice was not at all like her usual style; it sounded like an unpleasant shriek that made the hair stand up on Harry's back. Ulatov's face reflected a haughty superiority as she looked at her men.

Octavius Prince, with his hooked nose, followed the example of the masked men and bowed to the short witch.

'You can count on our support in everything, Nameless.'