Author's Note:
This is a continuation/soft reboot of the time travel tale "Hair of the Grim" by Nightmare Sired Muse, with a bunch of changes. It also contains many concepts, lines and situations from the grab-bag that is "Odd Ideas" by Rorschach's Blot. Both are used with the permission of their original authors. The Harry Potter series belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. I do not own Harry Potter or anything else.
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Rated M for some violence, language, drug use and sexual references. Nothing explicit.
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Canon-compliant. HP&DH compliant (except the Epilogue). HP&CC compliant (except the conclusion). FB&WTFT compliant. Pottermore compliant (mostly).
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Recommended Fanfiction of the Week: "Supreme Champion" by Haugh Wards.
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Question of the Week: Can you move like Jagger?
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Part 4: Mundungus Fletcher vs The Goblet of Fire
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Chapter 21 – Quid Pro Quo
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Time is on my side.
– The Rolling Stones
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Harry sighed.
"What's eating you now?" Lily Luna demanded, prodding his shoulder with one of her sharp little fingers. She hated it when he became all mopey. They stood in their favourite spot, the roof of the south wing. It gave them the best view of the rolling valleys and Black Lake. It also ensured that random students or teachers couldn't wander past and hear something they shouldn't. Far below them, they could see clusters of black-clad Dementors patrolling the grounds.
"Nothing."
"Harry James Peter Persimmony Pettigrew Potter-Black-Malfoy, you tell me what's bothering you this very instant!" She stamped her foot for emphasis. Wisely, he chose not to share how adorable that made her look.
"We need that Goblet, Elle, but Dumbledore's still being intransigent. 'Peter my boy, such a thing is far too old, too powerful and too dangerous to allow school students to tinker with. You have no idea of the consequences of miscalculation…' etc etc. And I have no leverage over him whatsoever. I mean, I could threaten to not tell him where the rest of Voldie's horcruxes are ..."
"So why not do that?"
"I already told him everything I knew about them," Harry admitted. "Besides, it feels really petty and selfish to hold back something we desperately need done to end the war, just to manipulate him into doing my bidding. How many people could die in the meantime, just to get him to cough up something that may not matter in the end?"
"So we find something else that he really wants. Something personal, nothing to do with the war. Then we offer to give it to him in exchange for the cup," Lily Luna said sensibly. "That's how I got Al and Scorpius to give me The Device."
"That's brilliant, Elle! Out of interest, what did you give them in exchange?" Lily Luna's stony silence and crossed arms suggested he best abandon this line of questioning immediately. "But what does Dumbledore want, that's the question …?"
"What sort of things does he desire more than anything?"
The old man will never tell us outright, so we have to think inductively, opined the Lynx. First, gather the intel.
Harry thought for a while. "According to him, when he looked into the Mirror of Erised he saw a nice pair of socks, I think. Complained that nobody ever gave him socks."
"Socks? Really? A man who lives in a castle full of house elves can't get access to a decent stack of socks?"
"I'm pretty sure he was lying. Who wants to tell their fondest hopes and dreams to snot-nosed kid?"
"Hey!" Lily Luna objected.
"You're different of course," Harry hastened to say. "I'm sure the other Harry Potter confided in you about all sorts of things. And you know I'll tell you anything you want to know," he said soothingly. This seemed to mollify the girl.
"So what did he really see, I wonder?" she mused.
"Hmmm there was a book Skeeter published after his death. 'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.' Dug up all sorts of things about his life. She got a bit of information from Bathilda Bagshot. I managed to have a chat with her too, on the lam from the Snatchers. Also spoke with his brother Abeforth over at the Hog's Head."
"Really? What did they say about him? Anything we can use?"
"A bunch of stuff about his youth. Did you know he was close to Grindelwald when he was a child? They had a big falling out after …" He trailed off and was silent for a long time, thinking furiously.
Pup, that's exactly the sort of audacious and recklessly stupid scheme I'd expect from a Marauder, cheered the Grim. I've never been so proud!
"Elle," Harry said slowly. "We need to find Pandora and get some supplies." At her impatient clearing of the throat, he finally turned to face her. "How would you feel about using that ornament of yours to do something that violates every rule of time travel and dimension-hopping?"
"Oh Peter, this will be ever so much fun!" She laughed and clapped her hands in delight. "You know just what to say to a girl!"
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Dumbledore smiled benevolently down upon one of his most brilliant and most exasperating students. A student who'd spent more time in his office in half a year than most students saw of it in seven. "What can I do for you today, young Mr Pettigrew? Another scheme to inform me of, no doubt."
"Your powers of deduction continue to serve you well, Headmaster," an amused Harry replied.
"I trust that this one does not involve recruiting more Dark Lords and Ladies?", eyes twinkling merrily.
Harry laughed, "Rest assured, Professor, the HA and their shenanigans are more than enough to keep me occupied without adding more members to my workload."
"That is indeed a relief, dear boy. So what then brings you to my office this fine evening?"
"I'm afraid I must revisit something we've discussed on a number of occasions. I insist that you obtain the Goblet of Fire for me. It may be the key to winning the war."
Dumbledore's genial smile vanished. "I'm afraid I must disappoint you then, Mr Pettigrew. My answer remains the same."
"I had a feeling you might be obstinate about this. Therefore, I've come up with a new approach to the problem."
"Oh?"
"It's very simple: you give me the Goblet, and in return I'll give you something you very much want. Quid pro quo."
"My dear boy, I very much regret to say that nothing you have could possibly make me change … my … mind …" His voice trailed off as he saw what Harry had produced.
"Yes, it's exactly what you're thinking," said Harry, as he placed the enlarged wizarding photograph onto Dumbledore's desk. In the shot, a grinning Lily Luna waved at them. Next to her stood a befuddled Ariana and Abeforth Dumbledore. The latter was holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet with yesterday's date. In the background of the frame, a young strapping pair of miscreants, clad only in their underwear, were trussed up against a large tree. Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald in turn glowered at the camera, at Lily Luna, and at each other.
"This is a joke," he accused harshly. His joyful eyes had turned cold as granite.
Harry shook his head firmly, acutely aware of the powerful currents of magic that were swirling around the office. "No. Never. We'd never joke about something like this, sir. I wouldn't play with your feelings in such a cruel way," he said gently.
Dumbledore scrutinised him for a while. Seeing the frank sincerity in the boy's eyes, he finally slumped back in his chair. The swirl of magic subsided, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"H-how …?"
"… is this possible?" Harry finished. "Time travel of course."
"Impossible!" Dumbledore denied loudly. "It is utterly impossible to use a time turner to go back more than five weeks from its point of origin. That has been tested for years and proved! I've done my own research on the subject, and the conclusion is inescapable!"
Harry raised an eyebrow. So Dumbledore had considered using time travel to prevent the death of his sister. Made sense, a man like Dumbledore would likely investigate every possibility to its fullest extent. I wonder why he never used The Device then? Perhaps it hasn't been invented yet.
"Using an ordinary time turner, that's true," he responded. "But my confederate here has access to a device that can bypass those limitations." He was aware of the unspoken question, but refused to elaborate. "I don't know how any of this stuff works, so I couldn't begin to explain it. Neither could my friend."
"I … I cannot agree to your proposal," Dumbledore said, after another long, pensive silence. "What you're suggesting could completely destroy our timeline, and cause catastrophic flow-on effects in ways that cannot possibly be anticipated. It could mean the end of the whole world. I cannot risk such a calamity for my own selfish reasons."
Harry's heart almost broke at the raw pain in his mentor's voice. "Too late. It's already done. I'm sure you saw the date of the newspaper in the photo." He tapped it with his finger. "They're already here in our time. As you can see, the universe has not imploded in on itself. Reality has not started cracking apart. If I hadn't told you, you wouldn't have noticed a single thing amiss. And since the school isn't crawling with Unspeakables as we speak, I'm sure the Ministry is unaware of it as well."
He placed another wizarding photo onto the desk. This one showed an exhausted and heavily pregnant young woman in a bed surrounded by Healers. Lily Luna sat in a chair patting the woman's hand comfortingly. The equipment in the background suggested this was St Mungos. The calendar on the wall was also dated to yesterday.
"You may be interested to know that my confederate also grabbed Merope Gaunt, who was about to give birth to everyone's favourite genocidal maniac. She's currently receiving the best care St Mungos can provide. Once she's discharged, I intend to adopt Miss Gaunt and her son into House Malfoy. The House has been very empty with so many former members now deceased. And I have a giant Manor that's sitting idle. Needs a housekeeper to keep things in order. Maybe assign a few house elves. Lots of gardens and parkland for a little tyke to run around in."
Harry stood up and ambled to the window. He noticed that Fawkes' perch was still unoccupied. "Once Tommy-boy's a bit older, I'll take him to Gringotts for an inheritance test. I know the House of Slytherin is merely an honorific, there's no gold or land or titles tied to it. But we may be able to revive House Gaunt, which Miss Umbridge tells me is still on the Wizengamot's books, but has lain unclaimed since the death of the last Head, Morfin I think. Hopefully with a decent upbringing and caring relatives, Tom can make something constructive and positive out of himself."
He turned back to face Dumbledore, who was still staring at the photos in shock. "Unfortunately, bringing these people to the here and now has no effect on our present timeline, so we still have Voldemort and his minions to confront, that hasn't changed – more's the pity." His voice become gentle again. "Your choice is this: help me with what I need, and you can have Gellert, Ariana, a young Abeforth and a young you to raise as you see fit. Or say no, and they'll be obliviated and left with a kindly and obscure wizarding family in America or Australia. They'll have a happy and trouble-free life."
"Is that so?"
Harry suddenly found himself paralysed and struggling to breathe.
"And what," Dumbledore said mildly, "is stopping me from simply using Legilimency to find out where you're hiding them, and go and get them myself? It's not as if you could stop me."
Sssstupid ssssquib! Nagini hissed in fury. You sssshould have brought backup!
Harry's head was suddenly released, but the rest of him remained immobile. "Because," he gasped, "I don't have them. I don't know where they are. You could turn my mind inside out and you'd find nothing of use. And if something happens to me, then my ally will know and you'll never see her or your loved ones ever again. Time is a big place. Not to mention that the HA and my proxies will tear Hogwarts apart looking for me. Or looking for revenge."
Dumbledore pondered that. Then, with a sigh, he released his captive. Harry slumped back into his chair bonelessly, panting like a dog, now that the crushing grip that surrounded him was gone.
"Forgive an old man for being so rough with you, child," Dumbledore whispered. He tented his hands on the desk. "All right, Mr Pettigrew, you win. What is it you want?" His voice was tired, defeated and dazed. A glass of water appeared in front of Harry.
"Several things. The first I've already mentioned: the Goblet of Fire. And the means to light it and enter contestants.
Yippee, more lists! the Otter cheered.
"(2) Organise permission from the Ministry for OWL students and older to have the Trace for underage magic removed from their wands, provided they're responsible about it. We're in the middle of a war of survival, preventing students from using their wands is suicide. I know there's an exception in the law for self-defence, but if even one student hesitates during a Death Eater attack worrying about getting in trouble with the DMLE, and gets hurt because of it, that's one too many. I'll tell Andromeda, Dorea and Dolores to give you whatever support you need in the Wizengamot.
"(3) The girl who's helping me, her father has been stuck in an endless time loop for several years. There was an accident, and a lot of time turners were damaged by spellfire, which caused some freaky magical field. I want you to investigate ways of undoing that loop so she can have him back. There are experts looking into it, who've made no progress in years. But they didn't have your genius on the case.
"(4) Give me the Resurrection Stone from the Gaunt Shack. Yes, I know what it is. And I'm sure you have it. I figure that if you have Ariana and Gellert, then you've no need for the trinket any more. Besides, the Potters are the last descendants of the Peveralls, so the Deathly Hallows belong to the House. It's the responsibility of the Head of House Potter to reclaim lost family heirlooms. As an aside though, I'd recommend not using the Elder Wand around Gellert. Just as a precaution."
"Duly noted," Dumbledore chuckled.
"And that's it."
"Deal," said Dumbledore immediately.
Harry was surprised. "That was awfully fast. I was expecting you to negotiate a bit."
The ancient wizard laughed. "Oh Peter, I would've done all that and much much more, I would've moved heaven and earth had I a chance to obtain what you're offering. Your fee is much lighter than I'm willing to pay. So yes, you have a deal."
"Great," said Harry in relief. Now that the bargain was struck, he took a sip from the glass of water. He wouldn't put it past the old coot to lace it with Veritaserum just to see what Harry spilled.
"I'm going to need more information about this time turner accident," the coot said thoughtfully. "Any details you can provide will help immensely."
"I can do that."
"I may need to call in some friends to assist me. Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, I think. And some of my contacts in the Unspeakables will have valuable insight."
"That's fine."
"However, my concerns regarding the Goblet of Fire stand. I was not making up excuses simply to be difficult. Ancient magical artefacts like the Goblet are extremely dangerous in the hands of the unlearned. I greatly dislike the thought of students handling it."
"What if I promise no student will touch it or use magic on it?" Harry suggested. "We can give it to the HAHA to deal with, far far away from Hogwarts."
"That is acceptable."
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The Headmaster strolled (i.e., raced) into the Infirmary. Harry was waiting for him.
"I see you got my message, sir."
Dumbledore nodded, but the power of speech had deserted him. Lying in four cots behind Harry, were four young people he thought he'd never seen again in this lifetime.
"Ah Headmaster, I'm glad you're here," Madame Valentine bustled up to them. "Mr Pettigrew shows up with four children who are most assuredly NOT students, claims that they're relatives of yours and that you'll be taking custody of them! This is extremely unorthodox, and I'm duty-bound to inform the Ministry in case these children are missing …"
"Madame Valentine, please explain to me why they are unconscious?" Dumbledore interrupted.
"They've been stunned. A simple Rennervate will wake them."
Dumbledore glared at Harry, who shrugged insouciantly.
"They were being difficult."
Ignoring the increasingly vexed school nurse, the two males exchanged items.
"Here are their wands, Professor. You may want to get them more contemporary clothing. They'll need to get citizenship papers or whatnot from the Ministry, but I'm sure you've already got that covered. Oh, and here's all the details I could get about the time turner accident."
"Thankyou Mr Pettigrew. More than I can say."
"You're truly welcome, sir. I just wish I could've done this as a gift. Ah… you have the you-know-what, and the other you-know-what?"
"In my office. The password is 'Frobscottle'.
"Thanks."
"If you'll indulge an old man's curiosity, how exactly did your friend manage to 'acquire' them? I don't mean to boast, but Gellert and I were considered two of the most powerful and brilliant wizards of our age. And Abeforth is certainly no slouch when it comes to defending his loved ones."
"We had help from Pandora with that. You see, we knew that you and Gellert were close friends prior to your … falling out. So one day when the family was out, my ally planted these all over your house and grounds."
He reached into his pocket and drew out what looked like an ordinary pebble. "Looks pretty ordinary right? Pandora, Odd and Lily have been working on this project to store 'potential magic' in stones. Don't ask me how, my brain starts melting when they explain it. Something like 'potential energy' maybe. The upshot is, they've found a way to enchant stones so that any magic poured into it is held in stasis until a release spell is cast. You could store potentially any spell in it, leave the stone somewhere, and then when your target walks within range, cast the release spell. The stone will project the stored spell in every direction. Bit like a magical grenade. The range varies on how much power you've put into it. You can only use one type of spell per rock for some reason, but on the upside you can pour a heck of a lot of that one spell into it. As I said, the more you put into one, the bigger the impact. Pandora is working on a way to contain the power of the Killing Curse in a pebble. She's theorised that it's possible to create a stone that has the equivalent impact of more than 47 Avada Kedavras. They call it the 'AK-47'."
He rolled his eyes as the Headmaster and Nurse recoiled in horror. "Oh don't be so melodramatic. Can you imagine how useful this'd be if you were ever attacked by a dragon? Or a nundu? Or a chimaera? Throw the pebble, cast the release spell and apparate the hell away!"
"So your confederate …"
"Laid out dozens of stones with stunners and Petrificus Totalis in them. As soon as everyone was there at the same time, she cast the release spell, and wham! Bob's your uncle. Or rather, Bob's Pandora's uncle." He giggled to himself. He'd have to share that one with his wife. "Then it was simply a matter of levitating everyone outside and putting The Device on them."
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"We did it!" Harry cheered as he entered the lab, tossing the Resurrection Stone casually to Pandora. His scientist wife caught it mid-air without looking up from her calculations. "And Dolores has taken the Goblet back to her place for the next phase."
Looking around the mad scientist's laboratory, he noticed that a row of tables had be set up end to end to form a production line. Xeno and Lily Luna were busily assembling more blasting and stunning stones, the completed ones forming a large pile at one end. A house elf would occasionally pop in to deliver more supplies and remove waste products. He spotted Lily Luna surreptitiously swipe a handful of finished stones and sweep them into her pocket when Odd's attention was distracted by Harry's entrance. She grinned and winked mischievously when she saw that Harry had noticed.
"You did what exactly?" asked Lily Evans, emerging from behind a haphazard stack of generator parts and parts of cauldrons. She wiped her greasy hands with a spare towel emblazoned with a picture of a minotaur lustfully chasing a scantily-clad maiden. Beast and maiden paused in their pursuit to observe the conversation curiously.
"Uh… I'll let Pandora explain that to you," Harry said, like a complete coward. "But the important thing right now is that your magical stunning-stones worked perfectly! Congratulations to the both of you! That was some genius enchanting – even Dumbledore and Madame Valentine were right impressed!"
"Wonderful," purred Pandora, finally leaving her papers to give her husband an affectionate peck on the cheek. They shared a triumphant embrace for a while. "I'm so pleased our test was successful. It's so gratifying to have Red for a minion. She's so much more energetic and reliable than my last one. Minion Xeno spends all his free time these days on The Quibbler and with all those house elf spies you recruited. They're either working the printing presses or they're all exploring the Forbidden Forest for rare flora and fauna."
"But mistress sock-puppet, I'm right here helping!" the boy protested.
"For the last time, I'm your lab partner not your minion!" Lily hurled the balled-up towel at the blonde scientist.
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Hermione resisted the urge to cackle maniacally. So Pandora Lovegood and Lily Evans think they can Science, do they?! Shows what they know! After all, it was her Charms/Transfiguration Double Mastery thesis proposal on storing potential magical energy that had laid all the groundwork for Pandora and her cronies to make those stunning pebbles. Hermione was pleased that they had worked to perfection, and that they had allowed the HAHA to get its hands on the object of their planning. But really, it was such a small-minded, pedestrian use of such a monumental breakthrough in magical theory. It was obviously up to a true Mistress of Magic such as herself to demonstrate its full, awesome potential. That, that would be True Science™!
In the meantime, they had a pesky Dark Lord problem. Again. And it fell to her to find a way to get rid of him. Again. To that end, here she was putting the last touches onto the ritual circle she had created. Finishing, she sprinkled the area with powdered mithril, to enhance the magical potency of the rite she was about to perform. She silently blessed whichever Malfoy ancestor had the foresight to build an entire ritual room in the basement of the Manor. And to stock it with useful (and enormously expensive) supplies. The powdered mithril alone must've cost thousands of galleons. It certainly made the night's endeavour a lot easier.
"Okay, I'm done," she announced to her fellow conspirators. Dirk Murray the Ghostbuster and 'Bob' Lovegood the Typesetter/Nightwatchman grinned and gave her a thumbs up. Bob was so impressed by the muggle gesture Dirk had taught him that he'd insisted on its use whenever possible. "You two get our volunteers, Lily Luna you're with me."
Hermione led her favourite niece up the stairs and into the vast bedroom wing of the Manor. Presently they reached their destination. Inside, a pale witch lay sprawled out on the gigantic luxurious bed, her dark hair covering her face. In a crib in the corner, an infant slept peacefully. Hermione quickly stunned the witch, just to be sure. Then she approached the child. "This will only sting for a moment," she whispered as she cast the spell.
The baby squawked in protest but quickly settled again as Lily Luna cast a weak pain-numbing charm.
"They're all yours," Hermione said, pocketing the small vial of blood she'd just extracted. "Make sure you're gone at least a day in our time. A week would be better, just to be on the safe side."
"We'll see you in a week then," Lily Luna promised. "Bye, Aunt Hermione!" Taking the infant in her arms, she carried it over to the bed, placing him in his mothers' arms. Sitting down next to them, she adjusted the golden chain around her neck to encompass all three of them. Giving Hermione a cheery wave, she activated The Device, and with a soft whirr and bright flash, the trio were gone.
Hermione made her way back to the ritual room, wherein Dirk and Bob were ushering in two grimy, dishevelled denizens of Knockturn Alley. Her eyes widened, recognising none other than Order of the Phoenix member-to-be Mundungus Fletcher, and Snatcher-to-be Scabior. Much younger, but still just as dirty and unpleasant.
"We're here, now where's me gold?" demanded Fletcher. Scabior nodded in complete agreement.
"All in good time gentlemen," she said, reverting automatically to her smooth, clipped, no-nonsense Ministry-professional voice. So much more effective than that sickly-sweet simpering Umbridge was famous for. "Once we complete the test, you'll get your money and be on your way."
"What is this test?" asked Scabior suspiciously. He was starting to look increasingly uncomfortable at being here. Hermione supposed she couldn't blame him for that. To be fair, these two had probably never seen a ritual room before, and had never had cause to imagine they might be hired to take part in one. To be unfair, these morons had agreed to go to an unknown place with unknown people to do an unknown job for a bit of gold. Such greed and/or lack of situational awareness was surely a sign of candidacy for the Darwin Awards.
"Simple: write your names on these parchments," indicating a side table with the relevant items, "and place them in the Goblet once I light it. Your real names, no aliases. You must have the full intention to complete the Three Tasks as you put the papers in the cup. If you don't, the magic may not take hold."
"What tasks?" Scabior insisted. Hermione gestured to the table on the other side of the room, and the items thereon. Scabior's eyebrows lifted. "Yer serious?"
Hermione nodded. Striding to the centre of the rune circle, she stood next to the magical artefact that was the nexus point of the ritual. She began to channel magic through the circle. Each rune, line and shape began to light up in turn, until the entire room was bathed in eldritch light. A soft humming filled the air. The two 'volunteers' shifted backwards nervously, but the exit was blocked by an unsmiling Bob.
Reading from the list of instructions Dumbledore had given Harry, Hermione began to chant in Latin. A blue light abruptly emitted from the Goblet, and the humming grew louder. Sparks and crackles of magical energy swirled around the room.
"As a duly appointed official of the British Ministry of Magic, I hereby declare the Triwizard Tournament of 1976 officially open! So mote it be!" she announced. A silent shudder of magic, thunder without sound, rippled through the room, and the interior of the Goblet burst into deep red flames, drowning out all off the colours that had heretofore filled the room. Hermione had to step back at the fierce heat emanating from the ancient artefact.
Presently, the heat cooled, and the fire receded within the bowl of the Goblet. The light from the flames cast oddly-shaped shadows onto the walls and floor.
"Now, if you will, gentlemen."
"This ain't gonna hurt us, is it? Or turn us into squibs or summat?" Mundungus queried tremulously.
"No," she said in her most reassuring voice. Not you, at least. "Provided you complete those Three Tasks, you'll be perfectly fine. The winner will even get a bonus of 50 galleons." That certainly got their attention. With another cautious look at the glowing Goblet of Fire, Mundungus scrawled out his name on a piece of parchment, approached the cup and cast it in. Seeing that his companion was unharmed, Scabior did likewise.
Showtime, Hermione thought. She reached into her pocket and drew out the scroll. It had taken Dobby two solid weeks of digging through Hogwarts to find a copy of one of Tom Riddle's old homework assignments. She had no idea whether Hogwarts kept old exams and assignments of previous years' students in permanent files and records, or whether Riddle had lost this one and it'd ended up in the Room of Lost Things. Either way, Dobby deserves a lovely Reward-Sock. Carefully tearing off the bit of parchment that contained Riddle's elegant, loopy signature, Hermione pulled out the vial of blood and poured the contents onto the scrap of paper. Once the paper had absorbed every drop, she then sprinkled more mithril dust onto it, rubbing it in. Here goes nothing, she thought to herself, giving Dirk the parchment. She held her breath as he approached the Goblet and tossed the piece of parchment inside. The flames flared brightly for several minutes, but eventually returned to their low burn.
Hermione stepped up to the Goblet once more and tapped it with her wand. "As a duly appointed official of the British Ministry of Magic, I hereby begin the drawing of the competitors to the 1976 Triwizard Tournament!" The Goblet flared again, and a piece of paper flew out and into her hand. "Representing the bit of back-alley behind the porno theatre, is Mr Mundungus Fletcher!" Another parchment flew out of the cup and into her hand. "Representing the dungpile in the courtyard of Mrs Miggins' pie shop, Mr Scabior Scouries!" The two men glared at her.
Finally, what she'd been waiting for – a final scrap shot out at lightning speed, she was barely able to snatch it out of the air. "And finally, representing Little Hangleton, Mr Tom Marvolo Riddle!" Dirk and Bob cheered. Fletcher and Scabior were nonplussed. The Goblet gave a hum, and its fire died.
"Who's that then?" demanded Scabior.
"If he turns up, I'll introduce you," she retorted glibly. "And now, let the Tasks begin! The First Task will be: exploding snap! And the location, date and time shall be: right here and now! Let's get started."
Bob and Dirk set up the table and counted the cards to the two dubious contestants. The three bystanders amused themselves by betting on the outcome. This evolved into outright offering of bribes to their chosen champions, or to the competitor to throw the match. Eventually, Mundungus, with an amazing string of good luck, proved victorious. He received a perfect score of 30 (Hermione: 10, Dirk: 10, Bob: 10). A growling Scabior received a paltry 15 for his efforts (Hermione: 4, Dirk: 5, Bob: 6).
The Second Task, which followed immediately afterwards, was a fierce game of gobstones. Mundungus proved the stronger player, and won in record time. The judges gave him a score of 27 (Hermione: 9, Dirk: 8, Bob: 9) to his preening satisfaction. Scabior received a 12 for his valiant but vain attempts at a rearguard action (Hermione: 3, Dirk: 5, Bob: 4).
The Third and Final Task, was a wand-paper-rock tournament. Scabior handily won, mainly because Mundungus chose 'rock' every single time. This time he received the perfect score (Hermione: 10, Dirk: 10, Bob: 10) while Mundungus, for his shocking lack of creativity, obtained a not-so-respectable 3 (Hermione: 1, Dirk: 1, Bob: 1).
"As a duly appointed official of the British Ministry of Magic, I hereby declare Mundungus Fletcher, with an incredible score of 60, the Champion of 1976! Congratulations!" The three judges burst into a round of applause. Fletcher, sporting a look of both bemusement and delight, stepped forward to receive his prize: 10 galleons plus the 50 galleons bonus. He greedily began to count his winnings, biting down on the coins every now and again to test their authenticity. Scabior received his 10 galleons, grumbling all the way. Then the three paid out their promised bribes to the two competitors. Finally the transactions were completed.
"Thankyou for your assistance tonight gentlemen, your work here is now complete. Farewell." With that, Hermione pointed to the door. The two wastrels wasted no time making their exit. As soon as their backs were turned, Hermione swiftly brought up her wand and stunned both in the back.
"What do you want us to do with them, boss?" grinned Dirk.
"Obliviate Fletcher and dump him back in Knockturn. He can keep the gold, he's earned it."
"And the other one?"
"Take his gold and wand and throw him in the dungeons." Hermione's smile was manic. "I have a few plans for Mr Scabior-the-Snatcher."
"No problem." The two men hastened to fulfil their missions.
Hermione turned back to the unlit Goblet. One last thing to do. "As a duly appointed official of the British Ministry of Magic, I hereby declare the Triwizard Tournament of 1976 closed. The third competitor, Mr Tom Marvolo Riddle, for failing to complete or even attempt any of the Three Tasks of the Triwizard, is hereby judged to be in breach of his magical contract, and to be stripped of all his magic. So mote it be!" She tapped her wand onto the cup once more. Then the world went black.
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˂:3 )~~~~ . ˂:3 )~~~~ . ˂:3 )~~~~
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"Uurrgh," Hermione groaned as the universe swam back into view. The room spun crazily around her head, and she fought the urge to vomit. The light was way too bright. She tried to throw her hand over her eyes, and almost fell out of bed.
"She's awake!" a voice called from far off in the distance. "You okay, boss?"
"Wher'm I?"
"St Mungos. Healers say that you'll be fine, just some concussion and magical exhaustion."
"W'appn'd?"
"You blew up the basement is what happened." The relieved face of Dirk Murray came into focus. "Whole room's a charred mess. It's lucky we got you here so fast. Healers think you had a burst of accidental magic that deflected the worst of the blast around you, rather than through you."
"Gobbet?"
"Magic cup's in a million little pieces," Dirk replied cheerfully. "Guess we won't be doing that again, eh?"
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