Godrics Gift
A/N The story moves along. Thank you for your reviews and PMs. While I have a particular idea for this story–I love hearing your thoughts about the HP world, and it makes my enjoyment of this story even greater.
Treasure Hunts and Tournaments
The sorting passed in a blur as Harry and Hermione pondered what this message from the Sorting Hat meant.
"Harry," Hermione began.
"Later," Harry mouthed, not wanting to begin another year of Hogwarts in the spotlight. He had a clear idea of what he wanted this year to entail for him. Diligent magical study and learning to duel like Fleur Delacour. He glanced at the staff table to see a pensively amused look on the face of Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster noticed Harry's glance and gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Unsurprisingly, Dumbledore had worked out the hat's message as well.
The sorting ended, and much to Ron's joy, Dumbledore began the feast without adieu. The sounds of clanging glasses and dishes filled the hall as a cornucopia of breads, meats, cheeses, and the odd vegetable dish appeared.
After a few plates had been cleared, the conversation began to pick up again in earnest.
"What was the sorting hat on about, you reckon?" Dean Thomas asked. "Something fifteen months ago, that would be what? End of our second year?"
"Harry pulled the OOOAAAAHH! Hermoine, that's my foot; your heels are bloody sharp," Ron winced."
"So sorry, Ron, I must not have noticed it there" She finished giving Ron a "Shut up about Harry and the sword" glance.
"Harry, did you pull something out of the hat?" Dean asked curiously
"No, I err, Ron cut in; "I err, was saying, Harry, pulled another heroic rescue over the summer. What's this about a hat?" Ron recovered.
"Unless heroic rescue means "got punched in the face by a thug at the World Cup," then I don't think it could be called heroic," Harry said with a laugh.
"Harry mate, you should have come with me to America; we could have watched the football and kept you from trouble. It really seems to follow you about in the magical world," Dean said.
"Honestly, that might be good for me," Harry replied. "Hopefully, I can keep it to studying and Quidditch this year."
"Still strange about the Hat reckon Dumbledore will know something," Dean said wisely.
"For sure," Harry said. "So, how was America?"
The subject changed, and the conversation continued apace. The Weasley twins managed a record feat in getting detention before the end of the opening feast. Apparently, they had created a lemon drop which caused its consumer's voices to raise several octaves. Somehow they managed to get a few on the staff table and much to their joy. The headmaster had taken the treat. Much to the staff's confusion and the twins' delight. The prank amused Dumbledore, who praised the twins' "magical and clandestine acumen" McGonagle was less pleased, leading to the twins' "record accomplishment."
With plates cleaned and bellies full and voices returned to their regular octave, the Headmaster began his speech.
"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has announced that the list of banned items has been further expanded and is posted in all of your common rooms. Four hundred and thirty-seven items are the latest count, I believe. The forest on the grounds is out of bounds to students, as is the village to all students below the third year.
It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch cup will not take place this year.
"What? Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, too appalled to speak. Dumbledore continued, in its place, Hogwarts will be hosting.
BANG.
A clap of thunder coincided with the banging open of the doors of the Great Hall. Clunk Clunk, Clunk was the sound accompanying each step from the strangest man Harry had ever seen. His face was scarred hideously, making him appear like a woodworking project gone wrong. Most prominently was an electric blue eye that whirled and raced in every direction and seemed to be scanning the room for threats.
"Glad you could make it, Alastor," Dumbledore said cheerfully.
"Students, this is Alastor Moody, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Moody nodded and took his seat at the staff table. "Professor Moody has had a storied career as an Auror and will be joining the staff for the year to teach you all he knows." Dumbledore finished.
"Ahh, yes, but I was announcing an incredible event this year; for the first time in over a century, Hogwarts will be hosting The Triwizard Tournament."
"YOUR JOKING" Fred Weasley
"I am not Mr. Weasley, although I recently heard a good joke about a House Elf and a rather enraged Yorkshire terrier."
"Ahem," McGonagle coughed.
"But perhaps that is best for another time." Dumbledore carried on. "After a century of hiatus, the Ministry of Magic has agreed with the International Confederation of Wizards and the magical schools of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to host the Triwizard tournament here at Hogwarts. This historic tournament had been discontinued for the past century due to the death toll but has now been reinstated. Champions from three wizarding schools will compete for their school's glory and 1000 galleons prize money. Delegations of students will be arriving in October, and the selection process will commence the week of Halloween. As part of the arrangement and to ensure the safety of the competitors, it has been agreed that only students of age, that is, 17 or older, may compete in the Tournament. The champions will be decided by an impartial judge, who will not be easily deceived."
Roars of derision split the halls. Fred and George began furiously whispering to each other, rapidly coming up with plans to deceive the "impartial judge."
"This will be a grand event, and we know you all will support the eventual Hogwarts champion with proper gusto! Until then, off to your beds and get ready for your first week of lessons." Dumbledore concluded.
The Gryffindors made their way out of the entrance hall, all still a buzz from the news of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry surmised this tournament was a massive deal in the magical world from how the kids from magical families were talking about it. The discussion continued in the hallway.
"How do you reckon the judge will decide the champion?" Ron asked the group excitedly.
"Not sure, but there has to be a way to get around the new restriction; we'll be seventeen in a few months; it's rubbish we aren't allowed to compete," George said.
"I'm sure the age restrictions are there for a reason, though, "death toll" sounds quite ominous," Hermione said reasonably.
"Come off it, Hermione, we've done loads of dangerous stuff; it can't be worse than what we've faced," Ron replied. "Harry 'll go for it for sure, won't ya, Harry?" Ron finished.
"Honestly, probably not; like you said after the cup, I've got at least ten months before trying to cheat death again," Harry responded, chuckling. A minor conflict boiling on the inside. He had enough fame as it was. He knew full well it was not what it was cracked up to be, but if he were champion, it would be his merit, not his circumstances, that brought him attention.
"A dross of aging potion is all we need," Fred said as they arrived at the Fat Lady.
The chatter continued as they arrived at the Gryffindor common room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way past their squishy armchairs near the window of the circular room. Harry took in the brilliant shades of red in the room where he felt most at peace. While the Burrow had turned into a refuge for him, there was something about the crimson and gold hangings, the Gryffin Tapestries, the crackling fire, and the people whom Harry called friends all surrounding him. Harry was well and truly home. He delighted in this as he made his way up the stair and into his dorm room.
He was met with a familiar sight. Hedwig tapped on the window letter dangling from her leg, waiting to be let in.
Fleur, he thought, must be what she was talking about in her letter; she must be coming for the Triwizard Tournament. Harry opened the letter and began to read.
Harry,
I am glad to hear you have recovered well and that you enjoyed your summer. Runes and Arithmancy are very useful branches of magic; it is wise to invest time in learning them. Why an entire year in one summer? Have you not begun until now? I attend Beauxbaton we begin our studies in Runes and Arithmancy in our third year. Papa said you are entering your fourth.
As to your question about dueling, I have been training to duel with my Papa since I received my wand. While he currently works for the Lyon branch of Gringotts, he was an Auror for the French ministry of magic before Gabrielle and I were born. He demanded I be able to defend myself and pushed me to become the best I can be. This summer proved I must train harder. Once again, I thank you for your intervention. Stupide, perhaps, but our vices are often the extremes of our virtues.
You will receive this after arriving at Hogwarts, so I am safe to tell you that I will be joining you there in about a month's time for the Triwizard Tournament. I cannot say I look forward to the English winter, but perhaps the company will be more pleasant than the weather. If you are interested in dueling, I would be more than happy to show you a few things my Father taught me. It is the least I can do to repay the service you rendered my family–besides; I can't imagine the tournament will be all that difficult. I should have plenty of spare time!
Kind Regards,
Fleur
Harry finished the letter and quickly put it away, not wanting to begin a conversation with any of his flatmates about the French witch with whom Harry was exchanging letters. Dueling since she was eleven. The thought of training with the French witch was exciting for him, to be ready for the next time he wound up in danger, and well, because it was exciting. Harry thought of this as he drifted off to sleep, his dreams touched by sapphire eyes.
oOOOo
Harry awoke slightly earlier than the rest of his dorm mates. His body adjusted to the summer mornings he spent studying with Hermione. Harry hopped out of bed, dressed, and crawled through the portrait hole. A morning jaunt through the castle would do him some good. Rather than heading down to the grounds, Harry climbed up to the ninth floor, taking in the portraits and tapestries as he walked by; elegantly dressed witches sat importantly around a glass table far too small to be useful, rows of mounted knights chatted idly together sitting on great battle horses overlooking a field of fire, a great Gryffin stared unblinkingly at a lone wizard whose back was turned to the hallway.
Harry took in the scenes while pondering his agenda for the day. McGonagall had written Harry back, clearly surprised at his decision to drop Divination, and was proud of him for taking a "more robust view of his magical education." But, she warned him that slipping in his core classes would not be tolerated. Harry would be put to the test by Professors Babbling and Sinistra to determine which course he would be placed in. Harry was genuinely curious about how he would test. Math was always a subject he excelled at in primary school. There were clear rules to follow, and if you followed them properly, you'd get the result. Harry remembered his math instructor Mr. Lewis who praised Harry's ability and even recommended he be placed in a gifted class. This led to a few unpleasant weeks with the Dursleys, who were certain Harry was cheating, and when that was disproven, Harry was locked in the cupboard for a few days in punishment for "peacocking about." Picking the subject back up was quite rewarding. Realizing that Harry could possibly even invent his own spells using the mathematical laws of magic was an exciting prospect.
Runes were similarly interesting, and Harry could already see how the subjects were interrelated. Hermione tutoring him in both subjects simultaneously made these connections evident. Runes were more powerful in sequences of threes, sevens, and thirteens. Even the number of wand strokes in carving runes could impact the imbibed magical power's efficacy. Harry was excited to study these subjects. He believed himself prepared to go further in them and his core subjects. The days of goofing off with Ron in class were over; they had to be; as much as he hated the canceling of quidditch this year, it also freed up a massive amount of his time that he could begin to push himself in his magical studies. Perhaps Fleur would even practice dueling with him; he would learn to duel either way. Flitwick was a dueling master. He would ask him for help in his first charms class.
Lost in thought, Harry's feet carried him down to the Great Hall, where he found a spot next to Neville Longbottom and across from Hermione, who was furiously reading while nibbling on a pear.
"Harry," Neville began, "Dumbledore left me this note for you as I walked down to breakfast; he asked me to give it to you."
"Cheers, Neville," Harry replied, taking the note and unrolling it.
Neat loopy handwriting scratched out:
Harry,
I hope your summer went well; I'm glad you made it back to Hogwarts safely, especially after the events of the World Cup. I was wondering if you would join me in my office this evening around five o'clock. I believe your classes will be over by then. As I believe you and Mrs. Granger worked out last night, the sorting hat seems to have a job for you. I haven't the foggiest what it may be, but I am quite excited to find out.
AD
P.S. I am particularly fond of Sweetarts
Between Fleur's letter and his plans for the year, Harry had almost forgotten the sorting hat's message. He had no idea what to expect, but he was reasonably sure he had done nothing wrong in slaying the Basilisk with Gryffindor's sword. Suppose he would find out that evening.
"Potter, there you are," the stern Scottish voice of Professor McGonagall said to him, striding to the Gryffindor table. As I said in my letter, I'm pleased that you are taking your studies more seriously. "It took your Father a few more years to get his act together. Glad to see you got some of Lily's sense." McGonagall said with a smile. "Eat a quick spot of breakfast and head up to the fourth floor. Professors Sinistra and Babbling will meet you there and put you through your paces to see if you can hop into the fourth-year class or if you need to begin at the beginning."
"Yes, Mam," Harry finished taking a few bites of eggs before heading out of the Great Hall. It was going to be a busy day.
"Good Luck," Hermione called after him.
oOOOo
An hour later, Harry joined his fellow Gryffindors in the greenhouses with the Hufflepuffs for his first Herbology period of the fourth year.
"How'd it go?" Neville asked as Harry joined his classmates. "Hermione told me," He finished as Harry gave him a curious look.
"Really well, actually, they will let me start with the fourth years on a provisional basis. Hermione, Sinistra, and Babbling were rather impressed with your tutoring ability; you may have a part-time job if you want it," Harry said, chuckling.
Hermione beamed at the praise. "It was nothing, Harry; you really did well applying yourself; I'm glad you will be with us in class this year. You'll be glad to have avoided some of the more aggressive third-year witches. I've heard Rolmanda Vane has had a crush on you since last year's House Cup final." She said, giggling.
Harry had no words for this, so he decided to put his dragonhide gloves on instead.
The remainder of the day passed relatively uneventfully. Double Transfiguration was quite enjoyable. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all manage to transfigure their hedgehogs into pin cushions. Bidding his classmates goodbye, Harry made his way to the stone gargoyle and hopefully some clarity on the sorting hat's message.
"Good evening Harry; thank you for joining me; how was your first day of lessons?" Dumbledore said warmly.
"They went well, Professor it's good to be back in the castle," Harry replied.
"Indeed, I am quite glad you think that, especially since your experience of Hogwarts has not been, shall we say, orthodox," Dumbledore said lightly.
"Well, it's the only experience I've had, sir, and I've enjoyed it quite a bit more than the Dursleys," Harry responded honestly, a flash of sadness touching the headmaster's eyes.
"As my note mentioned, the reason for our visit tonight is the most peculiar message left for you by the sorting hat. A phenomenon that I have not witnessed in all of my years at Hogwarts. As you are the only one who pulled anything from the sorting hat, in my recollection. I figured the best thing we could do would be to place the hat on your head and see if there is anything else Godric's old hat has to say." Dumbledore said.
"Sounds good, sir," Harry said nervously.
Without a word, Dumbledore summoned the Sorting hat and place it on a stool in between him. Harry paused, putting wordless magic on his list of things to work on this year. If he could master the Patronus, which was beyond OWL level, why not wordless magic?
"Ah, Mr. Potter, I see you got my message." The Sorting Hat flatly.
"Suppose I did. Hard to forget you coming to my aid given the circumstances," Harry responded.
"Aye, yes, well, I've been instructed to tell you two things, but I cannot say them; I must show them. So I ask you to put me on." The Sorting Hat continued.
Harry blanched, unsure of what to do. He glanced at Dumbledore, who was bemused, nodded at Harry, and said: "Harry, the magic of the Sorting Hat is bound up with the castle itself; while I haven't the foggiest what is in store, I can assure you, you are not in danger."
Harry nodded and placed the hat on his head and a voice of pure power radiated in his ear.
Defender of the school
Your journey now begins
My weapon is the key
To the lock only you can see
Seek the Gryffindor
Place it in the sheath
Speak your name aloud
Your power we'll unleash.
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"The magic of this school has given him a task, Albus. One which he requires his sword. Take comfort; it is not dangerous but is one he must discover alone." The Sorting Hat said.
Surprise crossed Dumbledore's face, then curiosity, then acceptance. A smile crossed his aged face.
"It appears as if your unorthodox Hogwarts education is set to continue." Dumbledore mused. I wish you every success in your endeavor and will be delighted to learn whatever you can tell me whenever you can."
Dumbledore strode over to the wall of his office and grabbed the Sword of Gryffindor. With a wave of his wand, he conjured a sheath; another tap and the sword shrunk into the size of a quill.
"Best not lose this, Harry, but I imagine it would not due to walk about with a full-sized sword strapped to your back. When you need it, tap your wand to it, and it will return to its proper size.
I believe my role in this task is done. Please do not hesitate to ask if you need anything from me. Otherwise, I wish you a successful quest and a great school year.
With that, Harry left the office, not totally sure what had just happened.
oOOOo
A/N The A/U begins in earnest! Leave me your thoughts, and Merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah to those celebrating!