Chapter Five

Finest Deception

Victoria was stunned, and she was not the only one. The hall was stuck in the tense embrace of unanswered questions. People were confused, jealous, or enraged that the so called Golden Boy had been picked for a lifetime opportunity. She stared blankly ahead, her thoughts swimming in uncertain patterns. She did not know what to think. There was no way Harry would have been able to cross the age line, that Dumbledore had drawn, without help. None of his friends were old enough disrupt or traverse over the age line for him.

Unless it wasn't one of his friends, she thought.

Even though their interactions had been limited to a brief introduction, Harry did not strike Victoria as the type of person to bribe or blackmail. He had seemed quite reserved at dinner, only really talking to his friends. The witch did not believe that he would seek more attention than his name already brought.

So maybe whoever tampered with the contest doesn't like Harry? Victoria played with the idea but shook it way. However small, there was still a chance that he could win the tournament. Someone who does not like him would have noted that factor and gone for something more direct, with less possibility for him to become a victor.

Maybe someone just wants to see him compete? Victoria snuffed the idea. No - no. What would be the point?A devoted fan would not put their idol in that much danger for the sake of seeing him run around in some tasks.

Victoria drew a blank and left her theories behind, because in that moment Harry was tucked away in a room filled with people who were against him and she would not stand for that. The witch could solve the problem later.

Slinking into the room, she stuck to the perimeter and gradually edged her way to the youngest wizard. The space was packed full with nearly every Hogwarts professor, the guest Headmaster and Mistress, The Ministry and the competitors.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," Fleur sneered at Ludo, "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young!"

"Yes, well however he managed it, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. By the rules of the tournament you're all obligated to compete. Harry will just have to do the best he can," Ludo explained.

Victoria passed unnoticed, they were all too focused on bickering with each other to register another presence. She stood beside Harry, who looked just as frightened as he did when he collected his parchment from Dumbledore.

"I think it's stupid. They're arguing over something that's painfully obvious," said Victoria. Harry's head snapped in her direction. His expression was tight and narrowed, he was waiting for her to oppose him like the others had. Instead she smiled meekly and shrugged. "The Boy Who Lived or not, there is no way you're talented enough to best Dumbledore's magic."

"Didn't you hear? I got some else to put my name in the Goblet." Harry voice was strained.

The witch snorted quietly, mildly amused by his snark. "No you didn't. You're terrified. There is no way you had anything to do with this."

A silence settled between them as they watched the adults argue back and forth. Victoria saw Alastor by the fireplace he was grumbling in between the recurring complaints from Madam Maxime and Karkaroff.

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but I don't hear himsaying a word."

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur cried out. She stomped her foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money — zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter isgoing to die for it," said Alastor. A dark ambience chocked the room into silence. Every magical being present considered the possibility, even Harry did going by the poorly hidden dread on his face.

"I don't believe they are trying to kill him." Victoria's voice struck the taut atmosphere. All eyes turned to her, Mr. Crouch looked furious, the others awaited her opinion. "It's the Triwiazard Tournament," she said as if it explained everything.

"There are those who would turn even the most innocent situation into an opportunity," her old mentor reasoned, his usual whirling mechanical eye was fixed upon her. Victoria felt ever so slightly uneasy under the attention she had gained.

"Perhaps, but the tournament is complex to enter and well guarded during the tasks - there are plenty of much easier ways to kill a boy and remain undetected," she continued, "If anything I would say it's a show of power, except there is no reason for it - none that we know of anyway."

"What are you thinking, Missy?" asked Alastor.

"I don't know yet, but we should be cautious."

"Don't be ridiculous," Mr. Crouch spat, pushing to the front of the crowd. "It was just another student."

Victoria unconsciously stepped forward, meeting her opponent with no fear. Her eyes blazed in a storm of impatience and fierce urgency. "Student or not, there is someone in this castle who knows they can trick the Ministry and one of the most powerful wizards in the world. They evidently know what they are doing. We should alert -"

"That is enough! Stop making this bigger than it is."

"Sir -"

"I said enough." Mr. Crouch's voice was authoritative and low. Her jaw snapped shut. The weight of reality settled on her shoulders, forcing them down in defeat. She had raised her voice at her superior. A man she was supposed to respect and follow obediently. And she had done it all in front of an audience.

Mr. Crouch levelled her with a glare that held no room for apologies or arguments as he ordered, "Wait outside Nightingale."

Bowing her head, Victoria bit at her cheeks and submitted to the command.

ϟ

Twenty minutes later and the meeting had started disband. Victoria was leant against the end of the staff table awaiting the Ministry and her impending reprimand. Huddled in her long cloak she watched the occupants of the room leave, until the distinctive thunk of Alastor's bad leg reverted her attention.

"Follow me," he said as he hobbled past her. He did not wait to see if she had complied to his request, the hobbled professor did not need to, he knew she would follow.

Victoria trailed after him without question. Neither spoke during the walk to his office. Instead she allowed the time to be filled by the fleeting sense of déjà vu and the rhythmic sound of synced footfalls. Eventually they came to the door that she had missed a few days ago.

Alastor's office was exactly how Victoria imagined it to be - an absolute mess. It was similar to his own home, cluttered with objects that supposedly hindered dark magic or exposed an unfriendly presence. Tracing her finger along the edge of a turning mirror, she saw Alastor in the reflection drop heavily into his chair with a disgruntled huff.

"You believe Potter then? You think someone else is behind this?" He asked. His walking staff clasped in one hand the other rubbing his wooden leg, probably sore from the walk to his office.

Victoria sat in the rickety chair opposite him, it creaked and wobbled under her weight. Clasping onto the arm rests she steadied herself before answering, "anyone who doesn't is either blind or an idiot. The Ministry is an exception - they're both."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, or did you miss the part where I was downtrodden." She titled her head, Moody should already know that. "The Ministry would have my head if they found out I went against their orders. It doesn't matter if my intentions are good."

"So you're going to leave the boy defenceless?"

Victoria sat back, her posture stiff. She eyed her mentor carefully, unsure of the game he was playing. She had always understood his paranoia but never his methods. "Harry won't come to any harm during the tasks. None of the champions will."

"You're here to protect them."

"They're calling it insurance." She rolled her eyes. The insurance that she would leap in front of the champions and take the fatal blow if it came down to it. "It's been made very clear that they want no student fatalities in this tournament."

Alastor reclined in his chair, his mechanical eye swivelling wildly in its strap. There was a light tapping coming from his twitching fingers atop his armrest. He looked deep in thought until a rough cough forced its way from his lungs. His shaking hand suddenly dived into his pocket to grab at a flask.

Victoria watched him take several gulps, she was a bit alarmed by the erratic drinking. She had never seen him turn to alcohol or any potion to curb his jitters. He had always claimed that it disallowed the mind to focus, clouding what needed to be seen.

Shoving the flask away like it had offended him, Alastor struggled to conceal his grimace. He rolled his tongue, attempting to rid the foul taste that was left in his mouth from whatever he had drank.

"With you there or not the boy is still unprepared and outmatched in this tournament," said the rugged professor returning to the topic.

Victoria stared away, letting her thoughts turmoil. The Ministry was consistently breathing down her neck. The Minister, just itching for her to slip up and give him the reasoning he needed to lock her away forever. Even if in the long run she was helping, he'd find someway for using it all against her.

On the other hand, Victoria knew that Alastor was right. Harry was barely fourteen with limited experience. He would be completely alone in the tournament and faced with tasks that were designed to challenge competent students at the end of their eduction.

She wanted to do the right thing by Harry but she had only just managed to gather an inkling of trust from the Ministry and the most selfish part of her did not want to throw that way over the boy she was taught to hate.

"You have my word, Potter won't die... but I won't help him cheat." Victoria determined with a dead straight stare.

Alastor was silent as he contemplated. He remain still for several unnerving seconds before he huffed and nodded, accepting the witch's response. Victoria was glad it had been concluded. The pressure of the matter lifted but her shoulders remained tense. There was still the remaining problem of uncovering the person who had put Harry's name in the Goblet.

"What about the person who put him in this situation in the first place?"

"Don't worry about them, they'll raise their head eventually. Just focus on keeping Potter alive." He waved the issue away.

Now that's odd,Victoria frowned. Never had Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody turned down the hunt of a potential Death Eater. A discomforting sense of detachment washed over her. From the coldness he sent towards her in his abrupt speech and clear avoidance, to the drinking, and now his lack of lawfulness. It was as if during the year they had spent apart he had become someone unfamiliar; to Victoria he was like a completely different person.

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AN: Just a short one because I'm a disappointment.