Chapter 34: Dark Signs
Albus Dumbledore was once again staring outside the familiar window at the deserted Quidditch pitch. The castle always felt that it had lost some of its magic whenever it was empty. While glad he was for summer break, he sometimes wished it didn't last so long. He missed the constant footsteps of the students trampling through the hallways as they talked loudly with their friends—he missed watching them enjoy themselves on the grounds outside… he even missed watching the teams practice from the Quidditch pitch—the Gryffindors training every second of the day… he chuckled to himself. Well, the players wouldn't have to worry about that for this year.
The students were all going to be for quite a surprise.
With a rather tired smile as he turned away from the brilliant sunset, back to look at his office. It was almost a relief to him that the students would be returning tonight. He walked almost lazily around his desk as he became lost in thought once more. He had been hard at work all summer, constantly sending letters back and forth with the Ministry, Madame Maxime, and Karkaroff. He had been so busy planning the tournament that he had to turn down Fudge's request to attend the World Cup; something that he had been looking forward to. But it couldn't be helped.
So to make himself feel better, he offered the invitation to Minerva, who happily accepted. He chuckled at how excited—though she tried to hide it—when he had given his invitation to her. But that happy memory didn't last long as he suddenly went down a spiral of troubling thoughts. He gazed anxiously at the newspaper he had received almost a month ago. He had read this paper at least a hundred times already and knew it by heart, but still, he found himself going over it again and again—hoping for some kind of clue.
It had only been a couple months since Wormtail escaped, but things seemed to be going from bad to worst. First, Bertha Jorkins disappeared in Albania—the place where Voldemort was rumored to be… and then not long after Bertha disappeared, he had read one of the Muggle newspapers to discover that a man—Frank Bryce—had also disappeared in the village where Voldemorts parents once lived… and now this… he picked up the old paper and stared at the faded cover.
SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, and there on the front cover was the Dark Mark over the treetops of a forest.
This couldn't be a case of mere coincidence as he opened it for the hundredth time and read:
'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.'
The article went on like this for a time, but Albus was shaking his head in exasperation. He had heard from Arthur Weasley that no one had been hurt aside from those poor Muggles that the Death Eaters tortured. Thankfully, they were rescued and had their memories modified for their own good. Some things really are better left forgotten.
But this paper was the one who started the rumors. Young Rita Skeeter was going to get herself into trouble one day if she wasn't more careful.
Groaning slightly, he got up from his seat, deciding to stretch his stiff legs and to clear his head, he left. But almost as soon as he stepped outside the gargoyle, he spotted Severus walking down the corridor towards him. But as soon as Severus looked up and spotted him, he gave him a very dark look and turned around to walk in the opposite direction. Guessing what this was about, Albus sped up to walk alongside him.
"Good evening, Severus?" Albus said politely as he fell into step besides him.
Severus didn't reply; he didn't even look at him—stubbornly keeping his head staring in front of him.
"I hope that you had an enjoyable break?" Albus went on, still polite.
"Not that it is any of your business," he hissed back. "I spent it the same way I do every year. Now what do you want?"
Albus was shaking his head. He had hoped that after he had explained the situation to Severus and let him think it over on his own over the summer, then maybe his potion's master would be able to let it go. But he knew that he had gotten his hopes up to high. He looked at Severus seriously for a moment. "I can see that you—ah… still disagree with me in regards to Sirius Black."
Severus let out a snort. "That would be an hefty understatement. Sirius Black has proved himself capable of murder while he was here at school!" He stopped walking and turned to glare at him. "Why did he slash the portrait, then? Why was he looming over Weasley in the middle of the night with a knife? How did he even escape in the first place? Even I don't know a spell that would allow one to sneak past Dementors."
"Severus… we've been over this before," Albus began wearily.
"And after everything he's done, after everything he has put us through last year," Severus went on as if he hadn't heard him, "You helped Potter set him free! On what? Only on his word?"
Albus gave him a hard stare. "Strange… I seem to recall Alastor Moody saying the exact same thing to me about you."
Severus froze and closed his mouth. Albus sighed, still unhappy that he couldn't make Severus see just how much he and Sirius had in common—show him that he didn't have to hold on to the past anymore. But then again, Severus hadn't acted as Sirius had…
"Severus, I know there is little I can say to change your opinion. I believe Sirius for the same reasons I believed you when you came to me fifteen years ago. Because the words he spoke of were sincere and came from his heart. While I agree that his actions last year didn't help to convince us of his innocence, but remember that he has been locked up in Azkaban prison for twelve years. Would you have been able to act rationally if you were in his position?"
Albus was disappointed with Severus, but he also regretted the fact that he couldn't appease Severus. But he knew how important it was for second chances. Severus turned his entire life around after he placed Lily Potter in danger, becoming Voldemort's most trusted servant so that he could spy on him and protect Harry. Something that Albus will always be grateful for. Albus himself had learned this long ago the hard way… this is why he has retained so tolerant for others' mistakes and why he believed that love is a powerful motivator—capable of redeeming a person's worst misdeeds.
"I know that for a long time you have held the belief that Sirius and his friends tried to kill you, but that was not the case and you know it. It was solely Sirius's doing—and you should've known better not to have taken his word seriously. Even if you cannot believe that James was not involved, you should at least forgive Remus Lupin, who you have deprived of a job last year." His words turned cold and Severus seemed to have shrunk a little where he stood. "It will be almost impossible for him to ever find a job again so that you could find a way to get back at him for something he wasn't involved in. Had you not insisted on getting revenge and listened to their story, why… we might've prevented Wormtail—the true traitor from escaping as well as Remus being forced to leave."
Severus glowered at him.
Albus sighed again and when he spoke it was with finality. "While, I don't blame you, Severus—I want you to understand that each of our choices will have a consequence. I trust you, Severus, and I value your opinion. But in this case you did not have all the evidence. All I can ask is that you, in turn, trust me."
He walked on, leaving Severus behind… hoping that he got through to him that time.
*That Evening at the Feast*
Albus had gone down to Great Hall just minutes before the students arrived. He could hear the thunder and storm raging outside and knew that they were all going to be soaked to the bone by the time they got inside—he had to set some Quick-Drying Charms around the hall to ensure that their clothes would all dry quickly and warm them up before any of them would have to go to Madame Pomfrey for a Pepper-up potion. He didn't think that they should have to start off the new school year sick. But just as he finished, and took his seat he heard an angry voice shouting: "PEEVES!"
Surprised, he looked up to see that Minerva—who was just come out from the side chamber to where the first years were undoubtedly where and went running out of the hall.
"Peeves, come down here at ONCE! Peeves, get down here NOW!"
"Not doing nothing!" he heard Peeves cackle from outside, and suddenly he heard screaming and a group of soaking wet girls ran into the Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!"
"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Minerva furiously as Albus watched as more students run in. "I'm warning you, Peeves -"
He heard the sounds of water splashing and then he heard Minerva yelling forcefully, "Well, move along, then!" Albus couldn't help himself and smiled fondly. What would he do without her here? "Into the Great Hall, come on!"
He leaned back comfortably as they everyone came in and went to their tables. Albus looked up and smiled a little bit wider when he saw the trio come in and sit near the Gryffindor ghost, Nicolas. Harry, looking angry, was emptying the water from his sneakers as he said something to his friends.
Smiling, he put the tips of his fingers together and rested his chin upon them as he stared up at the ceiling, allowing his thoughts to stray. It had been a long time since he saw the weather as bad as it is now. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it. A storm was coming…
But he wasn't just talking about the one raging outside. He thought back to that little boy who once attended class just like these ones here.
Ever since Albus became one, he has been first and foremost a teacher. He has been at Hogwarts for years, and he's dedicated his life to teaching children… but he understood that he couldn't solve everything.
He remembered sadly that night so long ago when Tom had returned to the castle and requested a job here. Thinking back to that night, it was almost as if the two of them were playing an imaginary chess game, asking each other questions and tried to catch the other off guard. He knew what Tom wanted and didn't want to beat around the bush anymore.
"Let us speak openly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a job we both know you do not want?"
He went straight to the heart of the matter and asked for the truth. He knew the antidote for Voldemort's deceptive powers. He knew how to put the pieces of the puzzle together and to understand what exactly Voldemort wants…
And yet he still couldn't stop it from happening.
"No, nothing. The time is long gone when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and force you to make repayment for your crimes. But I wish I could, Tom… I wish I could…"
Something that he wished to this day.
Albus's couldn't help but feel responsible for Tom. As a teacher, he had wanted to help him, he wanted him to find happiness and goodness, but he discovered that his powers as both wizard and teacher weren't enough.
When Tom first arrived at Hogwarts, Albus did not inform the faculty of Tom's odd ways or of his troubled past at the orphanage. He had decided to give Tom another chance, a chance to start over. But because of this choice, Tom was given free rein to build himself up as Voldemort. He was given access to the education and the resources that would teach him how to use and wield his powers. Albus didn't know if there is anyone who has powers enough to help Voldemort start over; but he knew that it was far too late.
He looked down in time to see the doors of the Great Hall opened and Minerva leading the usual long line of first years up towards them. He smiled at them all, for the poor things looked more like they had been forced to swim across the lake rather than sail.
Each of them was looking around nervously—well all of them except the smallest of them who was wearing Hagrid's overcoat. If Albus had to guess, the boy must've fallen into the lake. The child was so small, and the coat so big that it was almost funny to see the little boy dragging it with him. But his small face was looking around with wonder and excitement. When he had lined up with his future classmates, he looked over at the Gryffindor table and gave Colin Creevey a double thumbs-up, and mouthed.
Albus chuckled. Ah, yes. He heard that young Mr. Creevey's brother was going to start this year. It only made sense that he was as excited about magic as his brother had been. It warmed his heart to see that.
Minerva had reappeared with the three-legged stool and the Sorting Hat. Once she put it onto the stool, the first years looked at it in confusion, as they all waited. For a moment, nothing happened. And then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favorites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!
Everyone applauded loudly as the Sorting Hat bowed low to each of the Houses and sat still, waiting patiently on its stool. Minerva unrolled the scroll of parchment and called out, "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table! Ackerley, Stewart!"
A small boy with thick, golden hair walked forward, shaking terribly as he picked up the Sorting Hat and sat down on the stool. After about 15 seconds the hat called out, "RAVENCLAW!"
Stewart took replaced the hat and hurried into a seat at the clapping Ravenclaw table. Minerva nodded her head as she looked back towards the list!
"Baddock, Malcolm!"
A thin boy walked forward and waited a few more seconds before the hat called out:
"SLYTHERIN!"
Slytherin House began to clap loudly. And so it went. Albus leaned back and watched with a smile on his face as he watched them all be sorted.
"Branstone, Eleanor!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Cauldwell, Owen!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Creevey, Dennis!"
Ah, he was looking forward to seeing this one as he watched the small boy staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's coat. At that moment, he heard heavy footsteps and looked to his side to see Hagrid slipping into the Hall. He gave him a smile and looked back at the child; if he was anything like his brother then…
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. Albus chuckled as he watched the little boy, who was grinning widely, almost threw the hat off his head and ran over to join his brother.
He watched Dennis go up to his brother and talk excitedly for a few moments. Colin then pointed to Harry who was now watching Emma Dobbs sorted into Hufflepuff, and Dennis's eyes widened in amazement. Albus shook his head slightly as he waited for the sorting to finish.
"Pritchard, Graham!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Quirke, Orla!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
And finally, when Whitby, Kevin! Had been sorted into Hufflepuff, Minerva picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.
Albus smiled even wider still as he got up and opened his arms wide in welcome. For a moment he wondered if he should explain everything now, but looking at the starving expressions on the student's faces, he knew that it would be best to wait. So instead he told them all in his deepest voice, "I have only two words to say to you. Tuck in."
And no one needed to be told twice. He sat back down and just as he was cutting into his steak, Minerva had returned, looking tired and ill-tempered. Though he had a good idea to what it was about he leaned in and asked, "Do you mind if I ask what happened out there?"
"Peeves again, Headmaster," she responded stiffly. "He's upset about not being allowed to join the feast."
Albus had a feeling that's what it was about.
"Well, as much as I enjoy Peeves's company, I cannot convince myself that allowing him to join us would be a good idea," Albus said knowing that the poltergeist can't resist starting a food fight every time he saw food. Just a few hours ago, he had almost destroyed the kitchens and had terrified the House-elves. Luckily everything was sorted out just in time.
He was enjoying himself for the first time in weeks as the students talked and laughed with each other—occasionally he would say something to one of his teachers while they listened to the rain beat against the glass. Once in awhile the thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the whole Hall. Personally, Albus preferred to think that storms were just a part of nature's own branch of magic.
Once everyone had finished their dessert, Albus got to his feet again. Everyone became silent when he looked around at them all, smiling once again. "So!" he called out loudly. "Now that we are all fed and watered. I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."
He fought a laugh, knowing full well that people only looked at that list to see what was forbidden and still bring them in to torment Argus. Funnily enough, before the Weasley twins arrived in their first year, the list had only been one hundred and eleven items… Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Weasley twins grinning at each other.
He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
He knew that not everyone was going to take kindly to that. He supposed that it was lucky that Oliver Wood had already left the school… the boy might've had a heart attack at those words. But there were still others who didn't look to far off.
"What?" several people cried out in horror. They were mouthing soundlessly at him like fish, as if they couldn't believe their ears. Harry especially was looking appalled… and his expression was mirrored with Weasleys.
He then went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"
But just as he was about to announce the Triwizard Tournament, a deafening rumble of thunder roared and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. Albus blinked in surprise as he struggled to make out the visitor. The man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff and a black travelling cloak. Everyone had turned their attention away from himself and towards the man just as he pulled off his hood and shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table with a dull clunk on his every other step.
Recognizing the newcomer, Albus sighed in relief. It was Alastor. He had been wondering when he was going to show up. When Alastor got nearer, Albus leaned over and shook his hand. "It is good to see you, Alastor. You had me worried that you had decided not to come."
He shook his head and replied, "Had something else to take care of, Dumbledore. Is there food left that hadn't been poisoned?" Albus nodded and gestured to the empty seat on his right-hand side.
Alastor shook his hair out of his face as he took his seat, pulled a plate of sausages toward him and sniffed it. Albus knew that Alastor had trained his senses to detect even the slightest bit of poison. Patiently, he waited until Alastor began to eat before turning to the stunned crowd.
"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Albus called brightly into the silence as they all stared at Alastor with shocked expressions. "Professor Moody."
But even as he clapped, the only other person who followed suit was Hagrid. Even the rest of the staff was starring as if transfixed by Alastor's appearance. The pathetic sound echoed around them and it didn't take long for them to stop. But Albus knew that Alastor hated it and wouldn't appreciate it if he kept it up for long.
Of course Alastor seemed totally indifferent as always and pulled out his hip flask. Deciding to put an end to this, Albus cleared his throat.
"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Alastor, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
Shocked silence filled the room for a full ten seconds. And then…
"You're JOKING!" cried one of the Weasley twins loudly.
As if they forgotten all about Alastor, they all began laughing and talking as one great voice. Albus chuckled appreciatively; glad that the attention was diverted from Alastor.
"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he called out, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar..."
Minerva, who heard this joke before, cleared her throat loudly and glared at him.
Knowing that he would be in great trouble if he didn't change the subject he said quickly, "Er - but maybe this is not the time…no… Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."
A few students did as they were told and began whispering quickly to each other. Albus went on to the ones who were hanging onto his every word. "The Triwizard Tournament," he began, hoping he didn't sound too dramatic. "Was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."
In his opinion, Albus had thought that had been a wise choice. He couldn't see how the schools could've allowed children to risk their lives for such a dangerous competition… especially when so many innocent lives were lost.
"Death toll?" several students whispered, and. But most of the others weren't paying attention to that, only thinking of the prize and glory… Albus's eye twitch at that reminder. He then continued in as cheerful voice as he could, "There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."
At least he hoped not. He had thought with great distaste at the thought of any of his students in danger and was silently grateful that he had been able to convince the Ministry not to allow anyone who isn't of age to enter.
"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
"I'm going for it!" he heard many students yell out. At every House table, Albus could see people looking around, as if expecting to see a sheet of parchment there for them to sign up. But he knew he would have to burst their bubbles and spoke again.
"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said seriously, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" — he had to raise his voice when most of them made noises of outrage and looked ready for a shouting match.
He knew that he wasn't winning admires for this, but they honestly had no idea to what they would be signing up for. "Is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion."
He looked at the Weasley's mutinous faces, and knew that he had to watch out for them especially. They may feel that they are being cheated, but they were still young and impatient. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."
Everyone continued to look furious at him, but he took it all in stride as he finished.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"
Albus sat down again and, ignoring the insults and mutterings of outrage from the students, he turned to talk to Alastor. "You had me worried there, Alastor," he said as his old friend continued to eat. "I was beginning to think that you weren't going to show up."
"Not everyone is right on time like you, Dumbledore," he answered gruffly.
"And I also heard about what happened this morning," Albus went on. "I'm afraid I must ask. Do you believe that someone was trying to break into your yard?"
"Why else would my intruder alarms go off?" he asked as he continued to eat—though before every bite he smelled it, to ensure he wasn't eating poison.
"Alastor, do you really believe that we have poisoned your food?" Albus smiled at him. Alastor never was one for small talk.
"Wouldn't be the first time," he answered. "Now shut up and leave me alone."
Albus shook his head warmly as he leaned back. "There are your social skills hard at work as always."
*Upstairs*
"You sure aren't making yourself any fans, Dumbledore," Dexter told him later on. It was late, and once Alastor had finished his meal, Albus had shown him his office and sleeping courters before bidding him goodnight. He was finally back in his office and was yawning, getting ready for bed when he heard his portraits talking. "Almost everyone else is furious that you set up an age limit."
"They may say that now," Albus sighed simply. "But they don't have any idea what they would be getting themselves into. They have no idea how dangerous these tasks will be. Like all children, if you tell them they can't do something, it makes them want to do it even more. But once they see what the first task is, I am certain that they will be glad that they are not the ones who have to face it."
"The Weasley twins seemed determined though," Dexter laughed as the other portraits all talked excitedly about what the first task is. "I think they're going to try and find some way to get in."
"Wouldn't surprise me if they did try," Albus smiled serenely. "But I would like to see anyone get over the Age-Line."
"Do you honestly think they can get over any spell that you put up?" Dilys asked him with a shrewd expression.
"They can try," Albus laughed. "Though I highly doubt it."
"That's almost as funny as them trying to fool the Goblet of Fire," Armando replied. "They have no idea what is going to happen."
"Unfortunately, once they are chosen there is no changing their minds," Albus said softly. "So if anyone does enter on a whim and is chosen then they won't be able to change their minds later on."
Something that had been bothering him for awhile, he asked, "How does Harry feel about this?"
"Well, they talked about it," Dexter answered. "And it sounds like the idea of entering is appealing to him, but to be honest, I don't think that he's serious about entering. Just dreaming… you know? Something that everyone dreams of…"
Albus let out a breath of relief.
'Good,' he thought. Harry didn't know this… and he wasn't planning on telling the boy about it either… was that he was the main reason for the Age-Line. Protecting Harry was the sole reason that Albus had pushed the age-restriction rule on the Triwizard Tournament in the first place. Ever since the boy told him about Sybill's prediction that Voldemort would return, Albus knew what they needed to be prepared for when it did. He wanted to encourage the friendships of the other Houses and other schools… while at the same time, prevent harm coming to his students. The Triwizard Tournament seemed like the perfect excuse.
The Ministry had wanted to allow any student to enter as it had been in the past, and it had taken Albus some time for them to consider the age-restriction. They had not wanted to consider it because of the extra work that would be involved, and no Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts had ever seen a need for such a restriction, but Albus sensed the danger that Harry was in and was desperate to protect him, even at the risk of making himself very unpopular.
He was being foolish, he knew. Because of his continued delusions he could allow a young child to live in peace for a few more years, he knew that he was growing dangerously attached. Harry Potter was only fourteen, but if you were to look into his emerald eyes, you would see the quickly fading child innocence. Albus could see it… guilt, regret, and sorrow… they were all mingled into a pool of pain. For the last three years, child had to fight through life-threatening situations that would make a fully trained Auror fall apart and run. Well, he was determined not to let that happen this year. He wanted the boy to be able to sit back and enjoy himself as he should've been doing all along.
For months, it had been clear to him that the signs are pointing in a dangerous direction. Bertha Jorkins has vanished in Albania; Frank Bryce has disappeared near the Riddle House; the Dark Mark appearing at the World Cup, and the prediction of Voldemort's pending return to power. Albus knew that Voldemort had been planning his comeback, and it was one of the reasons why he had asked Alastor Moody to teach for the year.
And if Voldemort is indeed on the road to recovery, he almost certainly has a plan. The Voldemort he knew always has a plan. And since the day Voldemort was vanquished by Harry, Albus has known that Voldemort wouldn't rest until he saw Harry dead.
A shiver washed over him at the thought and he turned his attention out the window at the rain beating on the glass. Albus was growing more worried for the boy with every passing day. He knew, or rather guessed that Harry's tragic fate was only to become even harder in the future. The only question was when. However he kept that information from Harry to avoid causing him anxiety form all the pressure.
But Harry is very well protected, and Albus couldn't see any way Voldemort could get to him. So all he can do now is keep his eyes and ears open as well as the eyes and ears of his staff, and wait until he gets a hint of what Voldemort is planning to do.
"Oh," Dexter said, interrupting Albus's thoughts and bringing him back to his office.
"Yes, Dexter?" he asked a little absent-mindedly.
"Granger is also talking about 'Slave Labor'," Dexter explained with a shrug and making air quotations in the air. "Apparently it something about House-elves…?"
Albus chuckled. "Well, I'm glad to see that someone else is starting to think about House-elf rights."
"House-elf rights?" Phineas called out. "Why I never heard of such nonsense! Why, in my day…"
Thankfully, before Phineas could go on, Dexter called out, "Everyone's in bed now… so, I don't think we're going to be in any trouble tonight. Looks like we can all turn in easy."
"Good," Albus answered appreciatively, ignoring Phineas outraged look. "Well, I don't see any need to have to have to stay up. That is a great relief. Hopefully, we won't have anything to worry about until Halloween."
But even as he went to bed, he knew that he was only trying to lie to himself. He knew that there was a great deal to worry about…
(Ok, I've been trying to decide that Albus go to the world cup. In the end, I don't think so. I reasoned that he's probably got a lot on his mind and too much work to do. But Minerva went in his place! Hope you all enjoyed this next chapter, and thank you all!)
