The Weighing of the Wands

John awoke the next morning and, though he had managed to get a relatively good night's sleep, he sat up feeling nauseous. He was alone in the dormitory, so took his time getting dressed. He went down to breakfast, where Sam, Dean and Cas were eating.

'John!' Sam grinned. 'How are you doing? I wondered if-'

'Actually, Sam, I'm feeling pretty awful. I'm not really up for any questions.'

'Okay, that's no problem at all,' Sam smiled. 'I'm ready whenever you are, so just let me know.'

'I might have something that can help,' said Cas, reaching into his pocket.

'Don't bother, Cas, I just pushed myself too hard last night. Your potions probably wouldn't work anyway, since that's just my luck.'

Cas nodded.

'Crazy about Harry though, right?' said Dean, munching on some bacon.

'I dunno, stuff always happens to him. I'm not entirely surprised,' John said.

'True,' said Dean. 'Be cool if he won, though.'

'I think the goal here is to keep him alive,' John said.

'He'll be fine. He's got you for a start.'

John gave a short, nervous laugh, as he began to notice suspicious looks being thrown at him from all around the room. 'Have you seen Sherlock?' he asked Cas.

Cas glanced at Dean uncertainly.

'What?' said John.

'I think he's upset about something. I haven't seen him all morning and…'

'And what?'

'I heard him crying last night.'

John's mouth dropped open. 'Crying?'

'Yes. I think he thought I was in the hospital wing.'

'And you haven't seen him since?'

'No. He was already gone when I woke up.'

John took a quick drink of water, then got up.

'Where you going?' Dean asked through a mouthful of sausage.

'Just for a walk,' John shrugged.

It was a chilly morning, but the skies were clear, a weak sun shining in a pale blue sky. John tried the lake first and stood under the large beech tree. The Durmstrang ship was drifting around slightly with the current. John could just about make out Harry and Hermione walking around on the other side of the lake. He waited a few minutes, then wandered away, further out into the grounds, then sat down, not far from Hagrid's hut

It was quiet except for the rustling of leaves and the occasional, muffled explosion from the crates of Skrewts, so he closed his eyes, not thinking about anything in particular. Allowing himself to relax alone helped him clear his head, until he realised that now he had felt Sherlock once, he might not need to be touching him to do it again. He took his time, seeing no reason to rush, and thought about Sherlock. He let the memories, thoughts and feelings flow through him, without hanging on to any single one, until he noticed the real, present Sherlock, flickering in the corner of his eye. He waited, holding it in place, but not reaching for it, waiting for it to come to him.

It was fuzzy at first, and he was only able to make out Sherlock's silhouette in a window somewhere. He took a few steadying breaths and waited. The scene sharpened a little and he distantly heard the sound of hooting and flapping. The Owlery, he thought. He smiled and said, 'I see you.'

Sherlock jumped and scanned the room, confused when he saw no one.

John snapped back to himself, light-headed and laughing giddily. He waited for the spinning to stop, then climbed to his feet and made his way up to the Owlery, where Sherlock was waiting for him.

'I did it!' John grinned.

'Indeed,' said Sherlock.

'On my own!'

'That's correct.'

Then John noticed Sherlock's tone of voice. He was still standing at the window, staring out of it with Dolly on his shoulder, looking extremely uncomfortable.

'What's wrong?' John said, concerned. 'Why do you have Dolly?'

'We were talking.'

John smiled, but Sherlock didn't say anything else, so John went over to him.

'Come on, what is it?'

Sherlock shifted from one foot to the other and looked uncertainly at John.

'You can tell me,' John said softly, gently rubbing Sherlock's arm, and ignoring Dolly's croaking.

Sherlock bit his lip slightly, then opened his mouth. 'I- I-' but he cut himself off when they heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

John dropped his hand just as Harry and Hermione entered the room.

'Oh, hello,' Harry said. 'What are you two doing up here?'

'Nothing much,' John shrugged. 'You?'

'I'm sending a letter to Sirius about the Tournament.'

'Oh, good idea. He'll know what to do.'

Sherlock used the distraction as an opportunity to slip away, taking Dolly with him.

'How is he so good at that,' John grumbled.

Harry sat down and wrote his letter.

Dear Sirius,

You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes - I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and I just got picked as a fourth champion. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, because I didn't. The other Hogwarts Champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff.

Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak.

Harry.

Hedwig fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder as soon as he finished and held out her leg, ready to go.

'I can't use you,' Harry said to her. 'Sirius says I've got to use one of these…'

Hedwig gave a very loud hoot, and took off so suddenly that her talons cut into Harry's shoulder.

Harry looked up at her helplessly, her back turned to him. Then Grace, Castiel's black barn owl, flew down and sat on the windowsill. After a moment of staring at her, she lifted up her leg as if to say, 'I'm obviously trying to help you.'

Harry hesitated. 'Well, we can't just take you without asking,' Harry said to her.

She cocked her head at John, who raised his eyebrows.

'You think she knows?' he laughed.

'Maybe,' said Hermione. 'Owls are really clever.'

'Yeah, well, it's not Cas's mind I can read.'

'You could see if Sherlock's with him,' Hermione suggested.

'Okay, give me a minute.' He sat down and repeated what he'd done out in the grounds, and found Sherlock talking to Castiel. He couldn't see where they were, but they were sitting down, and Dolly was in his lap. He still looked quite distressed.

'Ask him if we can borrow Grace,' John said.

Sherlock jumped again and hastily wiped his eyes. 'Can Harry borrow your owl?' Sherlock asked Cas.

Cas looked extremely confused. 'What- what for?'

'To send a letter to Sirius, so it might take a while.'

'That's fine,' said Cas, bewildered.

'Are you okay?' John said to Sherlock.

Sherlock cringed. 'Yes, I'm fine. Stop doing that.'

Then John was back in the Owlery. 'Yeah, Cas says you can borrow her,' he said breathlessly.

'Wow,' said Harry. 'Okay, brilliant.' He tied his letter to Grace's leg and she took off. He then reached out to stroke Hedwig, but she clicked her beak furiously and soared up into the rafters, out of reach.

'First Ron, then you,' Harry said angrily. 'This isn't my fault.' He stormed out, leaving John and Hermione.

'What happened with Ron?' John asked.

'I'll explain on the way down,' Hermione said. 'Come on, let's get something to eat, you don't look well.'

'Ah, "not well", my primary facial expression,' John joked. 'But really, Hermione, I'm fine.'

Hermione ignored him and led him out of the Owlery.

It became very obvious the next day that most of the students believe Harry entered himself in the Tournament. The Hufflepuffs in particular turned quite cold towards all of the Gryffindors, despite having previously been on good terms with them. All except Sam, Gabriel and Molly Hooper.

Herbology that day was strained, with Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley refusing to speak to Harry, even though they were re-potting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray.

'Just ignore them, they're being ridiculous,' Molly said to John.

John just shrugged, trying to focus on keeping control of the Bouncing Bulb in his hand.

'It's the Chamber of Secrets all over again,' she said as John successfully shoved a bulb into the soil and it stayed put.

'Yeah, except this time people think I'm in on it,' John sighed, picking up another bulb.

'Then they're idiots.'

John smiled at her, but the bulb wriggled free of his grasp and smacked him hard in the face.

'Ouch!' he gasped.

'You're bleeding!' Molly explained.

John put his hand up to his face and tried to stem the flow of blood from his nose.

'Here.' Molly pulled some tissues from her pocket and pressed them to John's nose.

He moved his hands out of her way, but when he saw the blood on them, he felt himself being pulled away and groaned.

'John? What's wrong?' Molly asked, but her voice was already faint and far away.

Everything was dark at first, and it took a moment for his surroundings to sharpen and for him to notice that Sherlock was there. They were surrounded by tall hedges, so he couldn't tell where they were. His hands were still covered in blood, and still his own as far as he could tell. Then he looked at Sherlock and was shocked by the pure, unfiltered panic on his face.

'Wha-' Then it all dissolved and John was back in the greenhouse with Molly. 'Whoa,' he mumbled, grabbing hold of the table.

'What lesson is Sherlock in?' Molly babbled nervously. 'Maybe I could go and get him, or-'

'No, don't worry,' John said, shaking his head slightly.

'Watson, are you all right over there?' Professor Sprout called over.

'Yes, Professor. Nothing's broken or anything.' He tried to get back to his work, but caught Ron glaring at him and sighed.

The lesson ended and John gave Molly a quick hug. 'Thanks,' he said to her, then left for Care of Magical Creatures, where Hagrid tried to get them to take a Skrewt for a walk. John was one of the few that attempted it, until the Skrewt he was walking blasted off and he was yanked several feet through the air, as well as attaining some mild burns to his hands. By the time the day was over, he was thoroughly fed up. He trailed up to the castle behind the rest of the Gryffindors, and was stopped by Sherlock in the Entrance Hall.

'Ow!' John yelped, as Sherlock grabbed his burned hands.

Sherlock took a small tub out of his pocket and began rubbing some yellow burn salve on John's hands. 'What did you see?'

'Just you and some hedges. No context.'

Sherlock looked up from John's hand and frowned.

'What?' John said.

'You've still got blood on your face. Here.' He drew his wand and pointed it at John. 'Tergeo.'

'Ah!' John exclaimed as the area around his nose and top lip suddenly stung as if it had been rubbed raw. 'What did you do?'

'Whoops.'

'Whoops?'

'Yes. You were growing a moustache.'

'Oh?'

'And now it's gone.'

'Oh.'

He left John looking completely bewildered, holding a hand to his stinging lip.

John then saw Castiel attempting to sneak past him. 'Cas!' he called, stopping him at the foot of the marble staircase.

'Yes, John?' he said, avoiding John's eyes.

'I wanted to ask you about something. I saw Sherlock with you yesterday and he looked upset, so…'

'So?'

'So, what were you talking about?'

'Why don't you ask Sherlock?' Cas said, trying to carry on walking.

John ran around and cut him off. 'He won't say - wait, Cas, please. Tell me what's going on.'

'I can't.'

'Why not?'

'I promised I wouldn't. Please don't make me say, I promised.'

John reluctantly stepped aside and allowed Cas to hurry past.

During their next Charms class, John and Harry were sitting together, neither of them feeling particularly like practising their Summoning Charm. The last few days had been miserable, with both of them receiving nasty looks and comments from students in all three houses. John had hoped they would get at least a little leniency from the Ravenclaws, but they too were convinced that the two of them must have cheated. This made Ron's refusal to accept the truth that much more painful.

So when Sherlock Summoned John's textbook across the room, John wasn't impressed.

'Give it back,' he said moodily.

'Summon it,' said Sherlock.

'No. You took it, you give it back.'

'You need to practice.'

'Since when do you even care?'

'John, just-'

'But I don't-'

'Will you-'

'Fine - Accio!' He was way more forceful with it than he should have been since Sherlock had annoyed him, so the book shot at him. He ducked just in time, and the book smacked the wall behind him, breaking apart. He glared at Sherlock, who gave him a smug smile.

'Why?' John demanded, picking up the pieces of his book. 'And don't say you were bored.'

'John, it's like you can read my mind-'

'I swear I will throw this at you-'

'Boys, that's enough!' Professor Flitwick squeaked.

John glared at Sherlock again and muttered 'Reparo', to fix his book.

He pulled Sherlock aside after the lesson. 'What's the matter with you? I get it, you're upset about something and you don't want to tell me. Fine. Just stop messing with me. Everyone already hates me, and I have double Potions next, and I can't deal with any more, all right, so just stop it.'

Sherlock thought for a moment then said, 'Good luck in Potions.'

'You know what?'

'What, John?'

'Nevermind.' John shook his head and walked away, too annoyed to hear Sherlock's sigh.

Harry and Hermione were already waiting outside the dungeons. John reached them just as the Slytherins arrived, each of them wearing badges bearing luminous red letters. As they got closer they could see that they read:

Support CEDRIC DIGGORY

the REAL Hogwarts Champion

'Like them, Potter?' Malfoy said loudly. 'And this isn't all they do - look!' He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message vanished, then was replaced by another one that glowed green.

POTTER STINKS

The Slytherins howled with laughter.

'Amazing,' John said sarcastically. 'Probably the smartest thing I've ever seen.'

'Want one, Watson?' said Malfoy, holding out a badge to John. 'I've got loads, and you've probably already predicted Potter's humiliating defeat. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see, don't want a Mudblood sliming it up.'

Harry suddenly shoved past, wand raised.

'Oh, Harry, don't,' John said. 'He's just trying to-'

'Go on, then, Potter,' Malfoy cut in, drawing his own wand. 'Moody's not here to look after you now - do it if you've got the guts-'

John groaned as they stared directly into each other's eyes, then-

'Furnunculus!' Harry yelled.

'Densaugeo!' screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in mid-air and ricocheted off at angles - harry;s hit Goyle, and Malfoy's hit Hermione.

Goyle's face immediately began erupting in boils. John rushed over to Hermione when she whimpered and clapped her hands over her mouth.

'Hermione! Are you okay?' He pried her hands away and saw that her already over-large front teeth were growing at an alarming rate. 'Okay, it's going to be fine,' he said reassuringly. 'It's not that bad, you'll be completely fine-'

'What is all this noise about?' Snape had arrived.

The Slytherins all clamoured to give an explanation until Snape pointed his finger at Malfoy and said, 'Explain.'

'Potter attacked me, sir-'

'We attacked each other at the same time!' Harry shouted.

'-and he hit Goyle - look-'

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled some sort of poisonous fungus.

'Hospital wing, Goyle,' Snape said calmly.

'Malfoy got Hermione!' Ron piped up. 'Look!'

Hermione was still attempting to cover her teeth, though this was difficult as they had now grown past her collar. Ron forced her to show Snape.

He looked at her coldly and said, 'I see no difference.'

Hermione whimpered and ran off, all the way up the corridor and out of sight.'

Harry and Ron then began shouting at Snape. Fortunately since they were both shouting and the dungeons reverberated sound, most of what they were saying was lost in a jumbled echo.

Snape seemed to get the gist, however.

'Let's see,' he said in his silkiest voice. 'Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter and Weasley. Oh, and another twenty from Watson. Control your friends. Now, all of you, get inside.'

John trudged inside and sat down next to Harry, while Ron sat with Seamus and Dean Thomas.

'Antidotes,' said Snape, looking around at them all. 'You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…'

John gulped. He was way too angry and anxious to be able to concentrate on his antidote, and by the look on Snape's face, it was Harry he would be poisoning.

Then a knock on the door broke the terrified silence in the dungeon.

It was Colin Creevey. He edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk.

'Yes?' Snape said curtly.

'Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter and John Watson upstairs.'

John and Harry gave each other confused looks.

'Potter and Watson have another hour of Potions to complete,' Snape said coldly. 'They will come upstairs when this class is finished.'

Colin went pink.

'Sir - sir, Mr Bagman wants them,' he said nervously. 'All the champions have to go, I think they want to take photographs…'

'Watson isn't a champion.'

'Mr Bagman asked for him specifically-'

'Very well, very well,' Snape snapped. 'Leave your things here, I want you both back down here to test your antidotes.'

'Please, sir - they've got to take their things with them,' squeaked Colin. 'All the champions-'

'Very well!' said Snape. 'Take your bags and get out of my sight!'

John didn't need telling twice. He swung his bag over his shoulder and hurried out of the dungeons, behind Colin.

Colin began chattering at top speed as soon as they closed the door, but John didn't listen to most of it, as he was thinking hard about what Bagman might want him for.

'Good luck!' Colin said as they reached the right room.

They stood outside for a moment, then Harry knocked on the door and entered.

It was a fairly small classroom, and all of the furniture had been pushed to the back of the room, except for one long, velvet covered table in the middle of the room.

Bagman was sitting at the table, talking to a witch in magenta robes. Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner, not talking to anyone. Cedric and Fleur were engaged in conversation, while a man holding a large black camera watched.

Bagman suddenly spotted them both and bounded over to them. 'Ah, here he is! Champion number four! In you come, Harry, in you come…'

John hung back by the door, uncomfortably aware that he didn't belong there, and waited for Bagman to tell him what he wanted.

'No need to look so worried, Harry, it's just the wand weighing ceremony,' Bagman said loudly.

'The what?'

'It's just to make sure your wand is in fighting condition for the tournament,' Bagman said breezily.

'The expert's just upstairs with Dumbledore and then there's going to be a little photoshoot. This is Rita Skeeter, she's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet…'

'Maybe not that small, Ludo,' said Rita Skeeter.

Her hair was set in elaborate and rigid curls that contrasted with her heavy jaw. She wore jewelled spectacles and the fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails painted crimson. As John was taking her in, he realised with a start that she shimmered slightly as he looked at her. Then she grabbed Harry and left the room with him.

John continued to hover by the door, but Bagman just wandered over to Fleur and Cedric. John was just considering going over himself, when the door opened and in came Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime and Mr Ollivander, the wandmaker. They all walked past him without seeing him, and started talking with Bagman.

'Where's Harry?' Dumbledore asked.

'Rita's just doing a little interview. They won't be long,' Bagman said brightly. 'In the meantime, why don't we take our seats?'

'Of course, Ludo. I'll just go and find Harry and Rita.' Dumbledore left again and everyone began to sit down.

'Mr Watson.'

John jumped, having not noticed that Mr Ollivander had come over and stood beside him. 'Hello, Mr Ollivander,' he smiled. 'How are you getting on?'

'Oh, fine, fine. And yourself? I hope that wand is treating you well.'

'Oh, definitely. It's a brilliant wand. Draws a bit of attention, though.'

'Ah, yes, silver lime. You know, silver lime wands perform best for Seers.'

'I do now.'

'May I?' Ollivander held out his hand.

'Oh! Yeah, of course.' John drew his wand and let Mr Ollivander examine it.

'Beautiful wand, if I do say so myself… Unicorn hair core… eleven inches… nice and flexible… well worth the fuss it took to pair you with it, wouldn't you say?'

John chuckled. 'Yeah, I remember.'

John's mother had decided that they should go to Diagon Alley together, just the two of them, so her full attention would be on him. He had been glad of this when all the magic and noise completely overwhelmed him. They'd worked together to figure out everything on John's equipment list.

'It says here I need a wand. That should be easy enough, right?' John had said, clutching the parchment tightly.

His mum had peered around, then pointed. 'That one over there says "wandmakers", so that's probably a good place to start.'

Once inside Ollivander's, John began to get excited. He hadn't really believed that he was a wizard, but now that he was about to get his very own magic wand, it finally felt real.

'Which is your wand hand?' Ollivander had said, while he took John's measurements.

He glanced at his mum uncertainly.

'Oh, er, he's left-handed, if that helps,' she said.

Once Ollivander had finished his measuring, he began pulling boxes down from various shelves.

They were there for an hour at the very least, with John getting more and more miserable with every rejected wand.

'Don't worry, you'll get one,' his mum said reassuringly, gently rubbing John's shoulder.

Ollivander stood and stared at him for a while, head tilted. 'Perhaps… But no… but maybe…' He disappeared and they heard him rummaging around right at the back of the shop. When he came back, his brow was furrowed and he was holding a dusty old box, with the fabric peeling at the corners. He picked up the wand inside and held it for a moment. 'Silver lime,' he muttered. 'It's been a very long time since I sold one of these.'

'How come?' John had asked curiously.

'The silver lime is quite picky, therefore not easy to find a match for.'

John had taken the wand and immediately felt a warmth emanating from it. He waved it and a shower of rainbow sparks had shot out of the end. His mum had clapped and a grin spread across his face.

'How did you know?' John asked as Ollivander gave him back his wand. 'My power hadn't even come in back then.'

Ollivander smiled. 'Mostly from your posture, but there was a little something in your eyes. Of course, I've only ever met one other Seer and she didn't attract a silver lime, so I couldn't be certain.'

John glanced back up at Bagman, but he was still preoccupied by the other champions. 'Why didn't you say anything?'

'Well, to be perfectly honest, Mr Watson, you seemed quite disoriented and I didn't want to make it worse. I doubt you were likely to believe me at that point in time.'

John thought back to the previous year and how long it had taken for him to accept his power. 'True,' he conceded.

Then Harry, Dumbledore and Rita Skeeter returned.

'John, what are you doing in here?' Dumbledore said, finally seeing John.

'Mr Bagman said he wanted to speak to me.'

'And who is this?' said Rita Skeeter, inserting herself into the conversation.

'Oh, John Watson,' he said, shaking her hand. 'Nice to meet you, Miss Skeeter.'

'John Watson?' she said, her eyes lighting up. 'The Seer I've heard so much about.'

'I'm so glad that's the first thing people think of when they hear my name.'

'Okay, everyone, let's get started!' Bagman called excitedly.

'Ludo, you wanted to speak to John?' Dumbledore said.

'Oh! I totally forgot! Er - why don't you sit over there, John, and we'll have a word after the ceremony.'

John sat obediently in the corner and watched.

All the judges sat down at the velvet table, with the champions sitting opposite, and Ollivander standing in the space between.

'May I introduce Mr Ollivander?' said Dumbledore. 'He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament.'

'Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you forward first, please?' said Ollivander. He twirled Fleur's wand in his hands and it emitted pink and gold sparks. 'Yes,' he said quietly, 'nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…'

'An 'air from ze 'ead of a Veela,' said Fleur. 'One of my grandmuzzer's.'

'Yes,' said Mr Ollivander, 'yes, I've never used Veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for some rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if this suits you…' Ollivander then checked for scratched and bumps along the length of the wand, then muttered, 'Orchideous!' and a bunch of flowers burst from the tip. 'Very well, very well, it's in fine working order.' He scooped up the flowers and handed them to Fleur with her wand.

He did the same with Cedric, Krum and Harry's wands and didn't seem to find an issue with any of them.

'Thank you all,' said Dumbledore. 'You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end-'

'Photos, Dumbledore, photos!' cried Bagman excitedly. 'All the judges and champions!'

John watched, amused as they all tried to get organised for photographs. He was just pleased that he'd gotten out of Potions for nothing.

'So,' said Rita Skeeter, sidling over to him, 'what's it like being a Seer?'

'Well, er - ' he was distracted by a piece of parchment at her side, and an acid-green quill whizzing across it.

'Don't mind that, just a Quick-Quotes Quill,' Rita smiled. 'You were saying?'

'Right, erm… I don't really know how to describe it.'

'I'm sure it's a lot of fun,' Rita prompted. 'Knowing what's coming is quite an advantage.'

'Not usually,' John admitted. 'It's painful and difficult.'

'Really? Fascinating. I heard that you can see anything; past, present and future.'

'Where did you hear that?'

Rita flashed a wide smile. 'I have my sources. Is it true?'

'Well, sort of. It's easiest to see the past. It's already happened, so the events are set. The future's always changing, so it's harder to get a good look at.'

'Interesting. And how would you say that will affect the outcome of the tournament?'

John could tell that this was what she had been dying to ask the whole time. 'Well - erm-'

'That's what we were just about to discuss,' said Bagman, coming over to them. 'Right, John?'

'Lovely,' said Rita. 'One more question, then. You seem to spend a lot of time with that Holmes boy, Sherlock. Are you two…?'

'What? Me and Sherlock?' John spluttered. 'That's not - I mean - we're not-'

'Lovely,' she said again. She snapped her fingers and the wizard with the camera turned and snapped a quick photo of John. 'That's everything I need. Thank you.' Rita put her things back in her handbag and walked away.

'John, I'm so sorry i made you miss your lesson,' said Bagman.

'Oh, don't worry about that at all. Really, it's not problem.'

'Good, good. I just wanted to talk about your involvement in the tournament.'

'Okay.'

'I've heard that you have different sorts of visions. One kind that happens on its own, and another kind that you make happen, is that right?'

'How does everyone know this?'

'You can never keep any secrets in Hogwarts. You can try, but it'll always come out in the end. So is that right about your visions?'

'Yeah, it is.'

'Great! That makes things a lot simpler. We were thinking - the judges and I - that since Harry already has such a disadvantage, that you might be allowed to help him out. We think that if you happen to have a vision of the tasks then that would be perfectly fine to share, but we don't think it would be fair if you tried to do it on purpose. What do you think?'

'Sounds fine to me. I'm not very good at forcing visions anyway, especially that far in the future.'

'Excellent!' Bagman said happily. 'Not that we could really stop you, but Dumbledore assures us that you're trustworthy.'

'And you all think this is a good idea?' John said doubtfully, glancing at Madame Maxime.

'Well, Barty Crouch thinks so, and he's in charge, so good enough.'

John nodded. 'So he doesn't think it's cheating, then?'

'He said that the tournament is about the champions using all resources available to them, besides asking a teacher, so I suppose you count as a resource.'

'Good to know.'

'All right, then. Now that's all sorted, I'll see you again at the First Task.'

They were finally allowed to go down to dinner. They were late, so everyone else was already down there, except for Hermione. Harry chose to sit by himself at the end of the table, desperate for some peace.

John sat down with Castiel, Sherlock, Sam and Dean. 'How's Hermione?' John asked Cas, who was pushing a small piece of pork and some peas around his plate.

'She'll be okay. Madam Pomfrey's tending to her now. She was quite upset, though.'

'What's happened?' said Sherlock.

'Harry and Malfoy got in a fight,' John explained. 'Hermione got hit by Malfoy's curse.'

They finished their dinner and John stretched. 'Better go,' he said. 'Trelawney's making me redo my homework. Apparently it wasn't close to being accurate.'

'You're bad at Divination?' Dean laughed. 'Wow.'

'Yeah, Dean, I see the irony, thanks.'

'He's not bad at Divination,' said Sherlock. 'I'm bad at Divination. Trelawney's just jealous that he's a real Seer and she isn't.'

'Doesn't mean I don't have to do the homework,' John pointed out.

'I better go do homework too,' said Dean, standing up.

Everyone stopped and stared at him.

'What?' he said.

'Since when do you do homework?' Sam scoffed.

'What are you talking about, I always-'

Sam raised his eyebrows.

'Yeah, who am I kidding? I'm gonna go pretend to think the homework is hard, and then ask Katie to help me with it.'

'Slick,' Sam laughed.

'Katie Bell?' Cas asked.

'That's the one,' Dean grinned. 'Let's go.'

John and Dean walked out, grabbing Harry on their way. Only Sherlock and Sam saw the forlorn expression on Castiel's face.

John and Harry dashed up to their dormitory to get their work, and they bumped into Ron.

'You've had an owl,' Ron said to Harry, pointing at Harry's bed, where Grace was sitting patiently. 'And we've got our detentions tomorrow night, Snape's dungeon.' He then walked straight out of the room, not looking at either of them.

John sighed. 'Come on, let's see what Sirius says.'

Harry took the letter from Grace and read it out while John let Grace out the window.

Harry,

I can't say everything I would like to in this letter, it's risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk, face to face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd November? I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself, and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody, I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in the tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose.

Be on watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd November as quickly as you can.

Sirius

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to VegasGranny, Sherlock Harry Winchester, DaughterofMagic3 and two Guests for the reviews!

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you again in two weeks!