Harry did not return to the Gryffindor common room, but rather joined Padfoot and Moony on their way up to Padfoot's quarters. He wanted his family and his friends equally, but to get to his friends he'd have to deal with the rest of Gryffindor and he didn't feel up to that just yet.
They must have guessed that would be the case, though, because as they neared the door, Harry could hear Draco and Ginny's voices drifting out through it. Padfoot had obviously heard the same and squeezed Harry's shoulder bracingly as they pushed the door open.
Ron was bent in silent contemplation of a chess board while Dora and Draco talked tactics on the other side of it, and - though the game looked almost finished which meant they'd been there for a while - both Ron and Draco were flushed and sweaty as if they'd been running around and not sitting down. Dora had Stella on her knee and Ginny was sitting at her feet, talking nonsense and tracing her wand through the air; Stella blinked at the coppery sparks that followed in its wake, a confused but happy look on her round little face. Hermione was sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by several large books, a stack of newspapers, and what looked like some sort of registration form. They all looked up at Harry, and Padfoot, and Moony as they entered, expressions grim.
"They've just told me," Dora said, leaving Draco to fend for himself as she carried Stella over to Moony - who was pulling silly faces - and deposited her in his arms. She gave a happy gurgle, and Dora wrapped her now-free arms around Harry, then released him and turned to Moony and Padfoot, asking questions in a low voice. Harry wriggled a finger at his godsister in greeting, and let himself be soothed by the warm, clean, baby smell of her.
"Walpurgis Academy's a small duelling school located in Europe," Hermione said without prompting, and Harry took his eyes off Stella so he could look at her. As if that was some sort of cue, Ron and Draco both glanced up, chess game forgotten, and Ginny shuffled away from the couch and closer to Hermione. "Located near Durmstrang I think - and it was founded two years ago by-"
"Dmitri Polkov," Harry said heavily. "I know." He was mildly impressed she did, though.
"Yes," Hermione said, shoving her hair out of her face as she ducked her head to keep reading. "And-"
"And he's dead," Harry said. "So-"
"Yes," Hermione said patiently. She waited, perhaps thinking Harry was going to interrupt again. When he didn't, she pointed for him to sit down on the floor opposite her. She only gave him about a second to do so before saying, "I'd hoped the school might have been shut down as a result, because then there'd be grounds to have you withdrawn from the Tournament without needing to involve anyone else-" She tapped the book, which looked like a newer version of Pemberley's rulebook. "-but it didn't. According to this, ownership, and the position of Headmaster, was passed on to Polkov's Deputy Headmaster." She picked up a newspaper clipping written in a different language and waved it at him.
"How can you even read that?" Harry stared at the newspaper.
"Translation spell," Hermione said impatiently. "Dora taught me-"
"Dead useful while we were in France, that one," Dora said, turning very briefly away from her huddled conversation with Moony and Padfoot. Hermione smiled in her direction, then turned back to Harry, expression serious.
"So," she said, "Walpurgis Academy was shut for a few days after Polkov died, but was planning to reopen, with the Deputy stepping up to fill the role of Headmaster. I couldn't find any articles about the reopening, but I think it's safe to assume it happened, because there was a small notice in the most recent edition of The Duelist's Update - which came out after the article in the paper - that said enrollments had opened for this term."
"Great," Harry said without enthusiasm.
"That's not," she conceded with an understanding smile, "but at least we know about the Deputy. If we can get in touch with them, we might be able to talk them into calling that vote Dumbledore told you about. That's something."
"Okay," Harry said, nodding. He didn't let himself hope - instinct was telling him he shouldn't - but she was right; this was something. "So who's the Deputy?"
"I don't have a name," Hermione admitted. "Neither article gives anything but their title-"
"Of course not," Harry sighed. "So how-?" Hermione, amazingly, had an answer for him, though he hadn't actually expected one:
"There's an international database of wizarding schools. It has up to date contact details and enrolment requirements. I found out about it over the summer, after… everything." She bit her lip, then shook herself. "They're usually a bit slow by post, but Marlene's gone to their office - there's always someone there, because of all the different time zones. She left about an hour ago, so she should be back… Well, any time, really."
"You're incredible," Harry said fervently, and Hermione smiled, reaching over to squeeze his hand.
"I didn't do all the work," she said. "Ron and Draco have been running to and from the library to bring me whatever I've needed, and that's saved a lot of time." That explained Ron and Draco's red faces, then. Hermione squeezed his hand again, then let go. "We'll get you out of this, Harry." Ron and Draco both nodded determinedly but Ginny was silent. Her scent was grim and resigned, and Harry didn't think she liked their chances of getting him out any better than he did. LIke him, she knew Voldemort well enough to know better. His thoughts must have shown on his face because Ginny scrunched her nose up in apology. He just shrugged
"What did the other Champions have to say about it all?" Draco asked. Harry could tell Ron was itching to ask about Krum, but he didn't.
"They were a bit confused to start with. Fleur Delacour kept calling me a child-" Harry had mixed feelings about that; on the one hand, he didn't like being called a child, didn't like the way everyone had seemed to equate 'child' with 'incapable'. On the other hand, he was younger than Champions were supposed to be, and it was not necessarily a bad thing to give everyone regular reminders of that, because it would keep them motivated to find him a way out. "-and then threatened me. Krum sort of did too-" Ron's eyebrows show up. "-or at least it sounded that way, but he didn't smell like he meant it to be a threat, so I don't really know what to make of it. And Cedric asked me if I'd put my name in, so I told him I hadn't." Harry shrugged. "I don't think he knew what to think."
"He'll believe you," Ron said. "Why wouldn't he?"
"Because Potter's complete disregard for his own personal safety and the rules-" Draco smelled oddly fond as he said that. "-often results in him in in the spotlight."
"Draco!" Hermione said, aghast. "Harry, ignore-"
"No," Harry said. "He's right. That's what people will think. It's less far fetched than the truth, anyway."
"'S 'cause it is the truth," Ron said with a grin. "The two are just unrelated this time, that's all." Draco snorted and Hermione glanced at Harry, perhaps wanting to check that he wasn't offended before allowing herself to smile. "The trouble's going to be getting them to see it."
"No," Ginny said. "If you'd been entered as a Hogwarts Champion, or under a fake school, maybe there'd be backlash, but with this… You're one of ours-" She waved at the Hogwarts banner on the wall by the fireplace. "-and people aren't going to be happy you're being made to represent another school."
"Especially if you do well," Hermione said, and then straightened, voice firm: "But it's not going to come to that, because we're going to get you out."
Harry's luck was always extremely good or extremely bad. But, while he had to regularly deal with the latter, at least the former had ensured he'd have these four with him while he did.
The Floo flared and Marlene stumbled out, catching the mantel for balance. Harry scrambled to his feet and the others did the same. Marlene was pale and drawn but smelled too strongly of soot and Floo powder for Harry to be able to know whether it was because of bad news, or because she was simply tired from the travel.
"How was Singapore?" Dora asked, as she, Moony, and Padfoot came to join them.
"Humid," Marlene replied, pushing her short hair out of her face. "And we have a problem." Harry's heart sank, and his nose was overwhelmed by the scents of worry, disappointment, and resignation in the room.
"A problem like you were caught making illegal portkeys to Singapore?" Padfoot asked, and Harry thought it was indicative of how potentially dire their current situation was that he actually sounded hopeful. "Or a problem?" His eyes flicked from her to Harry. Marlene pulled a bit of parchment from her robes and unfolded it.
"Walpurgis' new Headmaster is a Mister Tom Riddle," Marlene said. Harry had about a second to appreciate that she'd just come out and said it rather than leave them all in suspense, and then he actually began to process what she'd said and felt the air whoosh out of him like he'd been hit in the chest by a bludger.
Dora - her hair now a despairing navy blue - and Ron both swore, Hermione looked crestfallen, Draco was silent and Ginny was very still. Padfoot put a hand over his eyes and Moony pressed his lips into a thin line. In his arms, Stella burbled obliviously.
"I wish I'd brought better news," Marlene said, running a gentle hand through Harry's hair. Harry wished she had too.
"Harry," Hermione said, sounding wretched, "I'm sorry, I thought- I hoped-" Ron patted her on the back, but he was looking at Harry and there was none of his usual humour in his eyes.
"It's fine," Harry said, reaching out to put a hand on Padfoot's elbow. Padfoot's hand - the one that wasn't over his eyes - came up to grip it, so tightly it was almost painful. Harry forced levity into his voice, since Ron clearly wasn't up to making light of things. "Tom and I go back a long way, so I'm sure if I just send him an owl and explain the situation…" He got snorts out of Draco and Moony, and a bleak laugh from Dora for his trouble, but an awful, tired silence followed.
Harry couldn't find the energy to try to break it again.
The following morning saw Ron out of bed before any of the rest of them, or, at least before Malfoy; when Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Malfoy had taken Remus up on his offer to walk them up to the common room before heading back to Beauxbatons, Harry had stayed behind, intending to sleep on the couch in Sirius' quarters. It had been him that asked to do so, not Sirius, and Ron thought that was pretty telling about how unsettled Harry was, despite the brave face he'd been putting on.
Ron thought he was perfectly entitled to spend a bit of time feeling nervous, or angry, or sorry for himself, or all of those thing at once. Ron would certainly want the chance to do the same, were he in Harry's position; there wouldn't be time to just sit and feel, later, because soon Harry would be too busy trying to stay alive.
Hermione hadn't yet made her way down to the common room, but Ginny had, and was curled up in an armchair, wearing an old jumper of Charlie's and staring so intently into the fire that she didn't notice Ron come downstairs. Ron didn't disturb her; curling up to think was Ginny's way of coping - or one of them, the other being to get angry and mean - just as Hermione's was to cry for a bit and and then throw herself into researching a solution, and Malfoy's was be to go and find Snape. It was maybe not such a bad thing that Harry had stayed away overnight; it gave them all the time they needed to process things the way they needed to, to be unashamedly upset and worried without making Harry feel worse for having to watch.
Ron let himself out of the common room and headed down the seventh floor corridor until he was standing in front of an all-too-familiar stretch of wall. Despite his best efforts all term, the wall had remained frustratingly doorless, and he'd started to give up on ever getting back in.
This morning, though, he had renewed purpose; there was nothing he could do to stop Harry from competing, but he could try to help Harry stay alive. They all could.
But for that they didn't need the room of junk Wormtail had lived in. They needed something different, but the room had created doors as Ron and Wormtail needed them, had created stairs for Ron, so what was to say it couldn't do more?
They needed books of useful spells, and practice dummies like the battered one Harry and Sirius had at Grimmauld, and anything else that might occur to them later. Ron needed a place where they could train. And, Ron needed a place where they could feel safe when things got inevitably got tense and messy on the outside, a place where they could come and throw theories around without being overheard, a place where they could sit quietly and relax, and just enjoy each other's company when everything on the outside got to be too much.
He told the room so several times - once or twice in his head and once or twice out loud - and was genuinely disappointed when that didn't work.
Ron let out a frustrated breath and hit the wall.
"Please!" he said. "I need a place where we can help Harry. And Draco, down the line, But mostly Harry right now. Please."
When he was worked up, Ron didn't go still like Ginny did. Sometimes he bounced his leg, other times he fiddled with whatever was in front of him, or tapped his fingers on the arms of chairs or the tops of tables.
There, in the empty hallway, he paced.
Harry'd had trouble getting to sleep, and once he had it had been fitful; a dream of Ludo Bagman telling him he had to fight a basilisk for the first task, had turned into his old nightmare of the Chamber, but with Fleur Delacour standing beside Riddle the whole time, scoffing at him and saying she'd told him he was too young, as Harry lay dying from the fang in his back. Then Riddle had turned into Krum and told Harry the second task was dementors and Harry'd been back in the forest with Wormtail. When he'd pulled his wand to cast a patronus though, it wasn't Prongs that had emerged, but a large skull with a snake for a tongue that burned like Fiendfyre but glowed killing curse green and was oddly familiar even though Harry was sure he'd never seen it before. Then, he'd been in the Hall, alone but for the Goblet, and there'd been a flash of fiery red and hundreds of pieces of singed parchment burst from the Goblet, all bearing his name. Instead of silence, though, and Sprottle catching a piece to call Harry's name, there had been James:
"Lily, it's him!" Only in his dream, James hadn't meant Voldemort; he'd appeared beside the Goblet and was holding one of the bits of parchment bearing Harry's name: "It's him. Lily, it's him!"
"Not Harry!" Lily had replied. "Please, not Harry!" Harry'd jerked awake, sweaty and panting, with Lily's begging echoing in his ears.
Padfoot had come out to join him only moments later, looking like he'd slept just as badly as Harry - if he'd slept at all - and the two of them sat in silence, watching the sun rise over the grounds and the masts of Dumstrang's ship, and the scrollwork on the top of the enormous Beauxbatons carriage.
Padfoot had Flooed out to update Robards and Scrimgeour not long after, and only been gone for a few moments when there was a soft knock at the door.
Hermione stood there alone, smelling determined rather than pitying, though worry flared in her scent as she looked him over. Harry was grateful she didn't ask how he'd slept, or how he was doing, or tell him he looked awful.
"I thought you might like to go for a walk," Hermione said. Harry was surprised how much the idea appealed to him, and he nodded, stepping back inside to put his shoes on. "Draco's with Snape, but Ginny's going to meet us and bring breakfast-" Hermione looked around the empty room and frowned. "Where's Ron?"
"Haven't seen him," Harry said, and Hermione's frown deepened in a way that had Harry scrambling for the map in his pocket. "Has he been gone long?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and not sharp.
"Draco heard him leave this morning, early," Hermione said, peering at the map over his shoulder. "We assumed he'd be with you." Harry scanned the map for Ron's name for several long moments, heart in his throat, because this couldn't be happening again, not now, and then sagged in relief when he spotted footprints and Ron Weasley standing outside the Gryffindor common room with Fred, George, and Neville.
Harry tucked the map away, feeling a little foolish for his reaction, but Hermione looked equally relieved and sheepish, so at least he wasn't alone in that. They headed downstairs in comfortable silence, with Harry wondering why Ron hadn't come to find him yet, and why he'd avoided the others. It was still early, and a weekend to boot, so the hallways were quiet enough that they stuck to the main corridors, rather than weaving their way down through secret passages.
Ginny, as Hermione had said, was waiting for them in the Entrance Hall, hands clasped precariously around a stack of buttery toast and bacon, and a bulging napkin which Harry's nose told him contained pastries. Luna was standing beside her, wearing bright purple gumboots and holding a bucket of pilfered bacon, sausages, and ham. Harry stomach growled.
"Good morning," Luna said, smiling dreamily at them. Ginny's lips curled up into a not-quite-smile when she saw Harry and Hermione, but she was otherwise silent.
"Hello, Luna," Hermione said, a little uncertain. She glanced at Ginny, then back to Luna. "Are you joining us...?"
"No, but it's kind of you to ask," Luna said, beaming. "Ginny's usually the only one that invites me anywhere."
"Oh," Hermione said. "I- well, you're welcome." She smiled, confused but genuine and Luna smiled back, then turned her large blue eyes on Harry.
"I'm very sorry about last night," Luna said. "You didn't look like you were happy to see your name come out of the Goblet of Fire." Hermione tensed, shooting a nervous look at Harry, and Ginny watched Luna with an exasperated sort of fondness, then grimaced at Harry in apology. Harry, though, found he didn't mind. It was refreshing to have someone be so direct, and to be simply sorry for his circumstances, rather than panicked or worried for him.
"No, I wasn't really," he said. "Thanks, Luna."
"I wouldn't worry too much," she said, after a moment spent studying his face, with her usual, slightly unnerving intensity. "Whether you wanted it or not, you're very well suited to the title of Champion, and I'm think you'll do wonderfully." She patted his arm and drifted off, bucket swinging in one hand. Harry stared after her until Hermione huffed in amusement and ushered Harry and Ginny out onto the grounds.
They divided Ginny's food up between the three of them and started around the lake. The grounds were far livelier than the inside of the castle had been, but no one disturbed them; Krum was having an early morning swim while a gaggle of admirers watched on (Hermione rolled her eyes when she noticed), Hagrid was with Madame Maxime and two students, tending the enormous Beauxbatons horses, and Moony gave Harry a small wave as he stepped out of the carriage with Fleur Delacour and a handful of other students and headed up to breakfast.
Harry, Hermione, and Ginny settled in the dappled sun on the far bank of the lake.
"We should start on that Charms essay for Flitwick when we get back," Hermione said. It was such a normal thing to say that Harry let out a surprised laugh. Hermione looked pleased with herself, and he realised she'd done it deliberately.
"Maybe," he said. "I think I might see if Ron wants to go for a fly first, though." He tried not to worry that Ron hadn't caught up with them yet; sure;y he wasn't avoiding them, surely he was just waiting for Draco, to finish with Snape so they could come together. "Maybe even a few others, see if we can scrape a bit of a game together." He looked at Ginny. "You in?" She looked up from watched Krum in the lake.
"If I can get my hands on a broom, sure," she said, grinning.
"Well," Hermione said, sounding both fond and exasperated. "Here I was worrying about you, but clearly you're not too upset, if you've still got it in you to think about Quidditch."
"Quidditch fixes everything," Ginny said sagely, then gave Hermione a cheeky smile. "Didn't you know?"
"Flying fixes everything," Harry said. "At least until you land and have to deal with everything on the ground again."
"Don't land," Ginny suggested.
"Don't tempt me," Harry muttered.
"You'd have to land," Hermione said, and Harry waited for her to point out some responsibility or other, but she only said, "I'd miss you far too much, otherwise."
"Nothing's stopping you from getting on a broom to come and visit," Harry said. He lay back on the grass and watched the Whomping Willow swat lazily at a parcel-laden owl. "And we could write."
"You're awful," Hermione laughed, reaching out to smack him. He rolled to avoid it, laughing too.
"Or we could talk Luna into taking you up on a thestral," Ginny said. "I'm sure she wouldn't-" She broke off, and Harry glanced over to see her staring at the owl he'd noticed just before, which was swooping gracefully down toward them. It was large and black, with angry orange eyes that met Harry's for the brief moment it took for it to drop the parcel right at his feet. Then, it veered away. The parcel was rectangular, with sharp corners, but looked boxy rather than bookish. It was wrapped neatly in brown paper and twine, and had no accompanying note.
"Strange," Hermione said, eyes on the retreating owl. "Are you expecting anything?" Harry shook his head. There were spells to check this sort of thing - he knew that much from Padfoot, and from Dora who'd had them drilled into her by Moody - but he didn't know any of them.
"Do you think it's safe?" Ginny asked. She had her wand out and was eyeing the parcel warily.
"Probably," Harry said. "Why would anyone try to hurt me by post when the Tournament can do it much more easily and much less conspicuously?" Ginny grunted and lowered her wand.
"It could be from one of the other competitors, though," Hermione said, frowning at the parcel. Harry blinked in surprise. "You said Fleur and Krum threatened you." Admittedly, Harry didn't know either Krum or Fleur well, but neither had struck him as the sort to try anything by post; they were so sure he was young and helpless that surely they wouldn't see the need.
Still...
Ostendere me omnia, he thought, looking directly at the parcel. Gleaming magic shone in his periphery - Ginny coppery, Hermione soft blue and gold, his own red and gold, and Hogwarts itself every possible colour Harry could imagine - but the parcel was dull. He let the vision fall away, blinking as his eyes readjusted.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, alarmed.
"M'fine," he said, and he was, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses; last time he'd tried that he'd been inside the castle and been temporarily blinded by the sheer amount of magic. The grounds were far less overwhelming. "I was just checking, and it's fine - no spells or magic on it."
"Poison?" Ginny suggested. Harry leaned forward and sniffed the parcel. He could smell the owl but not much else.
"I don't think so," he said, but drew his wand. "Diffindo." The twine and paper split, and Harry nudged the wrapping open with the tip of his wand, then used a quick levitation charm to get the lid off the box inside.
Ginny and Hermione both leaned forward curiously.
Inside was a puddle of black fabric bearing an unfamiliar crest, and a small piece of expensive parchment folded in half, with the visible side bearing the same crest as the fabric, and the words Walpurgis Academy.
A feeling of horrified disbelief flooded Harry, but he swallowed and shifted closer so he could use the tip of his wand to lift the edge of the parchment enough to see what was written inside it.
There were three words there, written in handwriting that was unfamiliar to Harry but that he was sure he knew the owner of all the same, both because of the way Ginny reared back with a sound that was half sob, half choke, and because of the words themselves:
For my Champion.
