Chapter 37: Helping Hands.
HP-BTVS-HP-BTVS
"I don't like how Crouch was upset that I put the goblet out before it could spit out another name," Xander said as he stomped into the 'house'. "I know it was going to select someone else, which is why I stopped it."
It riled him up the way that man called him out like that. That and he had an inkling that Crouch tried to put Harry's name in the goblet. He couldn't prove it, since he didn't allow it to be chosen, but it niggled his mind. Why else would he complain? Unless he was hiding something else. But what?
"You're right, I just can't figure out how they circumvented my protections," Joyce said as she fell onto the couch. "I didn't take my eyes off it the whole time it was here," she said, looking around like the answer would just come to them. "All of us were there at some point or another," she added, nodding to everyone in the room.
Joyce, Xander, Spike, Moody, and Sal had all decided to hold a meeting after the Heads of the other schools went to talk to Minerva. They had been the task force behind keeping the names going in the goblet out of mischievous hands. Xander didn't think his threats were that terrifying. He was wrong. The whole school and the visiting students were impressed with his speeches.
"Perhaps they put the name in before it was lit?" suggested Spike, who was more manipulative than everyone else in the room. Well, maybe not Sal. He was a Slytherin after all. "It's what I'd do," he added with his evil smirk.
"That sounds plausible," Xander agreed, pointing at the vampire like he said something helpful for once. "Good thinking, Spike," he said, though he was loath to. He did give credit where credit was due.
"I 'ave me moments," Spike stated, affronted by the finger. Sure, many of his plans in the past got thwarted by Buffy and the Scooby gang, but he had his moments. Granted Drusilla's plans were crazier than his, but for some reason they always seemed to work better.
"Yes, you do," Joyce said, waylaying a fight. "We just have to figure out who, and why," she said, looking to Xander.
"My money is on Crouch, but I don't know why," Moody said, not liking the man. He had been his commanding officer in the Aurors, and he never approved of the things Crouch did. Like letting all those Death Eaters off with the Imperious claims, but then throwing Black in Azkaban without a trial. Even the man's own son got a trial.
"Publicity?" Sal suggested, thinking like a politician. "Having the Boy-Who-Lived in the tournament would put them in the papers," he explained.
"Yeah, but that would be bad publicity," Xander said, not sure if that would be a good enough motive.
"There's no such thing," Sal disagreed, knowing that anytime your name got in the paper people debated, and that was always a good thing. It meant that you were fresh on people's minds. And that you can argue your way out of trouble if you were smart enough.
"Harry did have that weird dream over the summer, and Luna did confirm that it was real," the yellow-eyed man said, thinking back on what had been said that night. "Old Voldyshorts is going to do something to get Harry away from the castle. I figured it was the tournament," he finished, drumming his fingers on his leg.
"You think Crouch is working for Voldemort?" came the disbelieving question from Moody. "I don't see that," he offered, then explained a bit more. "The man was a diehard antiterrorist. He put his own kid in prison. The only bad thing you can say about him, is that he can be bought."
"I guess that doesn't make him diehard then, just doing what he thinks the public wants him too," Xander said, a bit smugly, like he called it right.
"Anyway, you think Voldemort is going to try and take Harry?" Joyce asked, worrying her hands.
"Don't worry, Joyce, we'll watch the little bit, make sure nothing untoward happens to him," Spike said, liking Harry for the kid that he was. He was a bit skittish for Spike, but he was always polite to the vampire.
"Yeah, we'll keep a look out," Moody agreed, knowing that they were very worried. "I'll also keep an eye on Crouch. You're right, something isn't right there."
"Good, with all of us looking out for him, it's less likely that he'll be kidnapped. That is the only way he's getting my kid," Xander said, his look fierce. He promised to protect Harry, and he would do that until his dying breath. He knew magic others didn't and he would use that to protect everyone in the castle. No one was going to die on his watch if he could help it.
"Do you think this Voldy character created more horcruxes?" Sal asked, changing the subject now that they agreed to watch the kids. He remembered the one from when he woke. Thank Merlin that Slinky took care of it.
"Probably, but how would we find them?" Xander asked, knowing how difficult it was to kill the one they had. "We don't even know what to look for," he added with a thoughtful look.
"Maybe Albus?" Joyce suggested slowly, like Dumbledore was the last person they wanted to bring in.
"No, a whole world of no," Xander said, slashing his hands in a negative manner. "I don't trust that man to tell the truth about the weather, let alone Tom Riddle," he added, getting frustrated that more was being piled on his plate.
"Wot's a horcrux?" Spike wanted to know. He had heard the stories of what had gone on in the castle, but no one explained it all.
"That bastard made horcruxes?" Moody shouted, standing up as fast as his pegleg would let him. It had taken him a moment to register that someone was dumb enough to make one, let alone Voldemort. For all the man was a terror, no one accused him of being stupid. Until now.
"It's a soul container, Spike," Joyce answered the vampire, and then turned to Alastor. "We didn't tell you?" she asked, sure that it was information they had imparted. They let all the people in this room, and Minerva and Rick, know what had happened the last three years.
"Didn't Albus tell you? I thought he'd tell you, you're his friend," Xander asked, knowing that Albus had a clue as to what happened in second year, even if they didn't tell him.
"Albus never tells anyone shite, friend or not," the one-eyed man snarled, stomping around the room.
"I hear that," Xander agreed, knowing that the ex-headmaster was tightlipped about a lot of things.
"Dad?" Harry said from the stairs, "is everything alright?" he asked, having heard the raised voices from his bedroom. He had only just gotten to sleep when they woke him. He wasn't used to people fighting in the 'house'. Well, his dad and Spike, but they usually did it in the basement, or when the kids were gone.
"Yeah, I'm just mad at one of the judges," Xander said, telling the partial truth, and getting up and going to the teen. "You head back to bed, and we'll keep it down," he promised, turning Harry around and patting him on the shoulder.
"Alright," Harry said, disbelief in his tone. He hated it when people angered his father. They should know better by now. His dad didn't take any shite from anyone. Dumbledore had learned that the hard way. Snape found out right away. His dad was just cool like that.
"I say we call it a night. We'll get the champions together tomorrow and have Harry teach them some phasing and telepathy. I also want them to do the animagus transformation, I want to see if they are magical if Harry trains them," Xander said, turning back to the people in the room. "Moody, get with me tomorrow and I'll tell you all about Harry's second year."
Moody just nodded and left, Spike right behind him. Sal turned on the tv, and Joyce went to the kitchen. Xander yawned and went to bed.
Hpbtvshpbtvs
The next morning everyone was talking about the night before. Xander was tired of it already, but let it go. Kids would be kids, and they weren't saying anything derogatory. He made his way to the teachers' table and took his seat next to Minerva.
"How are you this morning?" he asked her as he served up a large portion of sausage. Since his transformation, he had craved meat more and more. He still made sure he ate his veggies. He had to set an example after all.
"Tired, I had to deal with the other Heads for most of the night. They have done nothing but complain about you," she said, serving up some eggs and toast. It had been a long night, she still had parchment work that needed done. She would do that after classes.
"About what?" the affronted man asked, looking around and seeing the visitors were not at breakfast yet. "I didn't do anything," he defended himself.
"Mostly that you are too harsh for their poor delicate students," she said with a sniff. "I told them what has happened in the school since you've been here. Well, the official version, and they understand better, but think you are still too strict," she explained, taking a bite of her toast with orange marmalade.
"Oh, well, they'll just have to deal with it. I'm not changing for their delicate sensibilities," Xander said, shoving a sausage in his mouth, cutting off the conversation for now. The foreigners were coming.
"'eadmistress," Madam Maxime said as she took her reinforced seat. It still creaked with her sizable weight.
"Madam," Minerva said with a nod of her head. She was not going to offend the woman just because she annoyed her last night.
"M. 'arris," she sniffed as she started spooning some French dishes that Xander didn't know the name of.
"Madam," he copied McGonagall. He decided to choose his battles, and it was too early for sniping.
They fell silent from there and just ate and watched the kids. The French were still sitting with the Ravenclaws, and the Bulgarians were sitting with the Slytherins. They seemed to be getting along better than the adults, but that was fine. It was supposed to be about international cooperation. If the kids pulled it off, all the better.
Karkaroff just nodded at the two when he came in, and he sat and ate his breakfast with a sniff.
Hpbtvshpbtvs
Harry and his friends were enjoying their breakfast, Harry was trying the eggs benedict. He had never cooked them before, and they looked delicious. The hollandaise sauce was to die for. The Dursleys would never have had this for breakfast. There wasn't enough fat for the males. It was full English every morning for that lot.
"Harry, tough luck not getting selected," Ron said, spooning a large helping of scrambled eggs on his plate.
"What are you talking about? I didn't want to enter," the confused boy said, looking at the redhead like he was insane. Everyone knew he did his best to stay away from the Goblet of Fire. They had been his alibi, the whole of Gryffindor had kept an eye on him and his friends.
"Come on, you're Harris's kid. Don't you crave adventure?" the other boy asked, remembering all the trouble Harry seemed to get into every year. They had to have a question and answer meeting every year. Well, not when Black had been caught, but they were told he was innocent, so there was that. "I know I would," he added as an explanation.
"No, I prefer to sit and read," Harry said softly. He didn't like the attention this questioning was bringing to him. He slid a bit further in his seat, to avoid everyone looking at him. His confidence waned if too many people were observing him. He was working on it, and he was better. At least now he could attend class and answer questions without faltering. But put him in public, and he regressed to the abused boy from the cupboard under the stairs.
"Yeah, Ron," Fred said, draping an arm over Harry's shoulders. "Harry here, is a bookworm," he said, squeezing the arm for a moment and then letting it fall. He knew Harry didn't like the attention. You don't play Quidditch with someone for three years and not know something like that.
"Whatever gave you the idea that Harry wanted to be entered?" Neville asked, glaring at the other boy.
"He's the Boy-Who-Lived," Ron said as if that explained everything. To him it did. Fame was all he ever wanted in life. To be different from his brothers. He never understood, why Harry shied away from it. If it were him, he'd stand out in any way he could.
"No, he's Harry Potter, just Harry," Neville said, thumping his fist on the table. He would defend his friend from all comers. He couldn't believe Ron would say that. Not after everything Harry had done for the school.
"Hear, hear," cried quite a few people.
"I'm not sure you know me at all," Harry said, looking at his friend, thinking perhaps he didn't know Ron at all.
"Whatever," the redhead said, seeing he wasn't going to get any support from the other Gryffindors.
"So, Harry, what do you think of Sal's teaching?" Neville asked, changing the subject. That and he really wanted to know what the boy thought. He would have more insight than others since Sal and he shared the parseltongue ability. They constantly had conversations with the dragon and basilisk. Not that others knew about the snake, but the point was the same.
"You mean Professor Slytherin?" Hermione corrected primly.
"No, I mean his Uncle Sal," Neville said, sticking his nose in the air in jest. That got a laugh out of Harry, which is what he was shooting for.
"I see what you mean," she said, blushing a bit at being called out.
"I like Uncle Sal's style," Harry answered the question. "He's quite dramatic," he added with a chuckle. Sal's idea of getting the point across was to tell dark tales of spells gone wrong, or even right if they were dark spells. Sure, it terrified some, but that was the point. If they were too scared to experiment, then the man had done his job.
"He's something alright," Neville said, looking to the professor in question. The man just lifted his cup to the boy, like he knew they were talking about him, and turned back to his conversation with Flamel.
"Oh, he's got you," Harry said, knowing Sal would pick on Neville a bit next DADA class.
"I'll live," the blondish boy said, not the least bit worried. Ever since Xander had taught him magic, his confidence soared. He'd even bet that he could deal with Snape at this point. His own gran hardly recognized him. He didn't let her push him around anymore. She was proud that he was standing up for himself, even if it was against her.
"Speaking of class, we'd better get going," Hermione said, finishing her pumpkin juice. She stood and grabbed her bag and waited for her year mates. They would all go to class together, even if they weren't friends.
"Alright," her friends, and the rest, said, eating up the last of their meal, and grabbing their bags. They all trooped out of the Great Hall towards Transfiguration.
Hpbtvshpbtvs
"Before you all leave for classes, I want to see the champions when classes are over," Xander said, getting up from his seat. He saw Harry and his group had left, but the older students were dawdling. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble, I just want to offer you something," he added at all the confused and worried looks he was getting. "Off to class," he said, shooing them along.
They all left, with new gossip on their lips. The two visiting Heads glared at him, but they left without comment. They would be there when the man talked to their students. The other teachers hurried out to get to class on time.
"You should have waited until dinner," Minerva said, patting her lips with her napkin and getting up to go to her class.
"Maybe I just wanted them to worry a bit," he said, with a devious lilt to his voice. "It would never do not to keep them on their toes," he added with an evil laugh.
"You're so bad," Joyce said as she popped in. "Minerva, haven't you found anyone to take your classes yet?" she asked, knowing the woman had been working on it since Albus left.
"If Albus can do three jobs, I can do two," she said with a sniff, though she did admit to herself that it was getting a bit much. Especially with the tournament. "But to answer your question, no I have not. I have higher standards than Albus did. None of those that applied have a master's certificate," she explained, not overly worried about it. "Besides, I have you and Xander to help me run the school. I only have to deal with the official things," she finished, making her way to the teachers' exit. "And Filius as Deputy," she said, thankful the little man agreed. If only for a few years. He didn't want to give up teaching, and he wasn't going to spread himself thin, like she had.
"Well, if it gets too much for you, you can try asking Sirius. I think he said, he got his certificate. He can also be the Head of Gryffindor," Xander said, thinking that was a great idea. That way the man had a reason for hanging around the castle.
"I'll ask him," Minerva said, stopping at the door and turning a bit to see them. They were the only ones left in the Great Hall.
"Or we can ask the goblins again," he offered, not sure how it would be received. He knew she didn't have a problem with the goblins, but they didn't have a master's in transfiguration. At least as far as he knew.
"The goblins cannot teach wanded classes," McGonagall stated, with a disapproving tone. "It's not right that they can't carry wands," she added when she saw their questioning expressions.
"Ah, I guess you're right," Xander commented on both of her statements.
"I must get going," Minerva said, going out the door, leaving him to finish his breakfast.
"Since you are their king, maybe you can change that," Joyce suggested, thinking that Xander could change a lot of things. His ideas were radically different than anyone else in the British Isles.
"I'll look into it, but I don't think they want wand rights," the yellow-eyed man said with a shrug. The goblins seemed happy with their lives. Especially now that he had introduced them to computers. They had been over the top that they knew something wizards didn't. That and it made their lives much easier to use their own private internet. However, he had not heard them complain about not being able to use wands. They did complain about the treatment they get, but not about wands.
"If you think that's for the best," Joyce conceded, knowing that he would know better than she.
"Don't worry, I'll ask them when I have time," he said, finishing off his plate and getting up to go and find the men that were in charge of security. They needed to have a meeting about how to secure the tasks. He wouldn't put it past Voldyshorts to try something new. That and they needed to talk about what to do about Crouch.
It was going to be an interesting year.