I do not own Bleach or Harry Potter the both belong respectively to Tite Kubo and J.K. Rowling
Dumbledore led Harry into a small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed to the back, leaving a large space in the middle. Three of them however had been placed end-to-end in front of a chalkboard and covered with a long velvet cloth. Five seats were placed behind the desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch that Harry had never seen before.
Viktor Krum was standing in a corner, away from the commotion. Cedric was having a conversation with Fleur, apparently they'd moved past the quarter-veela's tongue lashing. Watching the French witch from the corner of his eye, was a potbellied man, holding a large black camera.
Bagman quickly stood up once he noticed Harry had arrived.
"Ah, here he is! The fourth champion. In you come, Harry, nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment."
"Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously.
"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead" said Bagman. "This is Rita Skeeter" he added, gesturing towards the witch he was speaking with. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet."
"Maybe not that small, Ludo" said Rita Skeeter, eyeing Harry hungrily.
Her blonde hair was set in elaborate and curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles studded with rhinestones, and had thick fingers ending in two-inch nails, painted crimson, currently clutching a crocodile-skin handbag.
"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman. "The youngest champion, you know to add a bit of color."
"Certainly!" Bagman cried, though he quickly realized he didn't have the authority to give Harry's consent. "That is, if Harry has no objections of course."
"Actually that wouldn't be up to him" Dumbledore spoke up. "Mr. Potter is an under aged wizard. Surely you weren't expecting to interview a minor without his legal guardian present, Ms. Skeeter?"
Harry wasn't sure how to feel. One the one hand he didn't want to give an interview to the paper. On the other he didn't want to feel like he owed Dumbledore anything. Still he supposed right now the headmaster was the lesser of two evils.
"Of course not, Dumbledore" said Rita Skeeter, a slight edge in her voice. "I just wanted to give Harry here the chance to tell his story."
"I'm sure you do, Rita. But you still must have his guardian present if you wish to interview a minor" said Dumbledore.
"Yes of course. Speaking of stories; I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference."
"Oh I did. I found it to be enchantingly nasty. I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."
Skeeter didn't look even remotely ashamed.
"I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old fashioned, Dumbledore and that many wizards on the street…"
"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita" said Dumbledore, with a courteous bow and a smile, "but I'm afraid it'll have to wait until later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to begin."
Seeing that his fellow champions were all taking their seats, Harry moved to join them. As he approached he noted that the cat he had come to call, Felix had chosen to hop off his shoulder and slink back outside. Though Harry didn't think much of it; in truth the disguised Yoruichi wasn't sure if disguising her spirit energy would be enough to fool a veela's allure, opting for the better safe than sorry approach.
Once seated, Harry watched as Prof. Karkaroff, Madme Maxime, Mr. Crouch, Ludo Bagman, and Dumbledore all took their seats at the velvet covered table. He also noted that Rita Skeeter had settled herself in a corner, a slip of parchment spread out on her knee, with an acid green quill placed on top.
"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander" Dumbledore announced to the room, the champions in particular. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
Harry was surprised he hadn't noticed him sooner; there standing by the window was the elderly wand maker, from whom he bought his own wand three years ago in Diagon Alley.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed over her wand. The elderly wand maker, twirled her wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.
"Yes" he said quietly. "9 ½ inches. Inflexible…. rosewood…and containing…dear me."
"Yes a veela hair" Fleur confirmed. "It belonged to my grandmother."
"Yes" said Mr. Ollivander. "Yes I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands. However, to each his own, and if this suits you."
Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches and bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order" said the wand maker, handing the flowers and the wand over to Fleur. "Mr. Diggory, you next."
Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed.
"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn. Must've been seventeen hands; nearly gored with his horn after I plucked his tail. 12 ¼ inches. Ash…pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition. You treat it regularly?"
"Polished it last night" Cedric grinned.
Sending a stream of silver smoke rings across the room, from Cedric's wand, Ollivander declared it fit for use. "Mr. Krum, if you please."
Scowling, Krum handed his wand over.
"Hmm, this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm mistaken? A fine wand maker though the styling is never quite what I…however…."
Ollivander examined the wand, turning it over and over before his eyes.
"Yes…hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he looked to Krum, who nodded affirmative. "Rather thicker than one usually sees…quite rigid….10 ¼ inches. Avis!"
The hornbeam wand let out a gun like blast, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out from the end through an open window into the sky.
"Good" said Mr. Ollivander, returning the wand to Krum. "Mr. Potter."
Harry got to feet, walking past Krum to stand before the elderly wand maker. His eyes seemed to shine as he examined the boy's wand.
"Ah yes, how well I remember."
Harry could remember too. It seemed like a lifetime ago, back before he had awakened as a Substitute Soul Reaper.
On his eleventh birthday, he had entered Ollivander's shop to buy his wand. His faithful 11inch, holly, phoenix feather wand. The wand maker had explained that the feather in question came from the same bird that had supplied the core of Lord Voldemort's own wand.
Harry had never shared this information with anyone. Though his Soul Reaper work had become a big part of his life, he was still very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort's wand was something it couldn't help. However, Harry really hoped that Ollivander wasn't about to tell the room about it. He had a feeling that Rita Skeeter would be all over it like a dog and its bone.
Mr. Ollivander spent much more time examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, he made a fountain of wine shoot out from it before handing it back, announcing that it was in perfect condition.
"Thank you all" said Dumbledore, standing up at the judge's table. "You may all go back to your lessons now," he took a look at his pocket watch, "or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they're about to end."
Harry eagerly got up to leave, but the camera man jumped up and cleared his throat.
"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" Bagman cried excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"
"Err-yes, let's do those first" said Rita Skeeter, her eyes once more on Harry. "And then perhaps some individual shots."
The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone one else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand back far enough to get her into frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl. Krum, who Harry assumed would've been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer wanted Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence.
The Daily Prophet reporter wanted to have individual shots done, but by that point Harry's patience was at an end; ignoring Skeeter's protests he left the room.
Harry entered the hospital wing, finding Ron sitting at her bed side.
"Mr. Potter, I'm not surprised" Madam Pomfrey commented, allowing him to join his friends. "Just keep it quiet, there are other patients."
She then stepped into her office, leaving the three on their own.
"How long did she say you'd be here?" asked Harry.
Hermione aware that her painfully long teeth, would prevent any attempts to speak, brought out a quill and parchment from her bag, and wrote down: Tomorrow.
"That's good. I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."
"I told her what happened" said Ron.
Hermione then started to write down how, Harry shouldn't have used his Soul Reaper powers to attack Snape. Apparently his kidō was powerful enough to break a few of the greasy git's ribs. Seeing the pleased look on her friend's face, Hermione started to write out an argument.
"No, Hermione. I'm not letting him hurt anyone else important to me" said Harry.
Dropping the subject, Hermione insisted that he and Ron head down for dinner. But before they could leave, Hedwig came swooping in through the window, a letter tied to her leg.
Harry held it out for them all to read.
Dear Harry,
Guess you can't seem to have a normal year. Afraid Moony doesn't know much about the Goblet of Fire. But as far as magical contracts go, it sounds like you're stuck. Which leads Moony and I to agree with Moody. This has Death Eater stink all over it. Moony and I plan to look into this. On that note, we need to talk to you face to face.
Make sure you're alone in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November.
Try not to worry too much about the first task. Just put on a good show. (Sirius! Harry just focus on getting through the tournament; it's not about putting on a show. – Remus)
Be safe,
Sirius.
Failing to get an interview with Harry, Skeeter was forced to write him off as a private person; making speculations that he was sealed off due to the grief of his parents' deaths. As annoying as this was, the lack of material forced her to put a bit more emphasis on the actual tournament, though she did misspell Viktor and Fleur's names, not to mention the fact she didn't even mention Cedric.
Obviously this didn't improve Harry's standing with Hufflepuff but it wasn't as bad as it could've been. Word had spread around the castle about Harry blasting Snape with some unknown spell, combined with what was reported about the World Cup attack, even the Slytherins were backing off for the moment.
The Saturday before the first task was a Hogsmeade visit, and Hermione, Ron, and Harry were enjoying a trip to the Three Broomsticks.
"You were right, I did need to get out of the castle" said Harry, enjoying his butter beer as he looked around the bar.
The place was packed, mostly with Hogwarts students but you could spot some of the foreign ones. Honestly it was a miracle that they'd managed to get themselves a table.
"Told you" Ron grinned. He and Hermione had seen how the other Hogwarts students and the ever nearing first task was stressing their friend out. Especially since Harry had decided not to use his Soul Reaper powers in the tournament, despite Ron's insisting it'd be a sure thing.
"Remember you're supposed to talk to Sirius tonight" Hermione reminded Harry, though it wasn't necessary he'd been eager to hear from his godfather and surrogate uncle since their last letter.
"Harry, Ron, Hermione" Hagrid greeted loudly.
"Hello Hagrid" Hermione smiled, while the boys each gave their own greetings.
Under the pretense of trying to hear them better, Hagrid leaned in close to the table, whispering so low that they could barely hear "Harry, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin."
Straightening up, Hagrid said loudly, "Nice to you," winked and departed. The trio also left the Three Broomsticks soon after to walk around the village a bit more.
"Ok, that was weird" said Ron. "Why would he want you to visit him at midnight?"
"No clue" said Harry.
"Maybe you shouldn't go" said Hermione. "It might make you late for Sirius."
It was true going down to Hagrid's at midnight was cutting it close but Harry pointed out that he was normally patrolling for Hollows around that time anyway, so it really didn't make much of a difference. Hermione had to give him that given that Harry's powers made getting back to the tower a simple task.
So that night, Harry took a bit of a deviation from his usual patrol pattern and went to meet Hagrid in front of his cabin.
"Sorry to pull you away" said Hagrid, reminding Harry of the usual rule for magical creatures and those that carry their blood: 'Never interfere with the work of the Soul Reapers'
"Don't worry about it, Hagrid" said Harry, wanting to assure his friend that he didn't mind the break from work. "So what's up?"
"Got something to show you."
There was an air of excitement about Hagrid. He was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole. Though it looked like he'd forgone the use of axle grease, instead it appeared he made an attempt to comb his hair. Harry wasn't sure but he thought he could see bits of its broken teeth tangled in his friend's hair.
"What're you showing me?" Harry asked, worried that it'd have something to do with the skrewts. He had no desire to see how the already hostile creatures would react to his Soul Reaper form.
"Just stay out of sight and keep quiet" said Hagrid. "We won't take Fang; he won't like it."
Silently Harry took to the air, following from above as Hagrid first went to the Beauxbatons carriage. He watched as Madame Maxime stepped out, a silk shawl wrapped around her shoulders, took Hagrid's arm and walked down to the far side of the grounds, far out of sight of the castle.
Given that he had the advantage of being in the air it wasn't long before Harry spotted what Hagrid wanted to show him.
Dragons.
Shortly after his return to Gryffindor tower, Harry as agreed upon waited in the common room alone. And at one o'clock on the dot, the fire place flared as Remus and Sirius' heads appeared in the flames.
"Dragons!" Remus hissed, after Harry reported what he'd seen. "I guess now we know what Charlie was talking about on the platform."
"Dragons we can deal with" said Sirius. "But we'll get to that in a minute. There are things we need to warn you about."
"What?" asked Harry, wondering if their investigation had found anything.
"Karkaroff. He's a Death Eater or was if you believe him."
"What?" Harry couldn't believe it; it was as if the wizarding world didn't believe in punishing the guilty at all.
Unbeknownst to the three wizards, Yoruichi had snuck into the room, having noticed Harry's absence.
Oh great, he's getting worked up again she mentally groaned. Though it didn't seem Harry's anger had reached the point where he'd start to hollowfy, Yoruichi was prepared to act if needed; though she wasn't the only one to notice Harry's growing anger.
"Easy, Harry" said Remus, not wanting to let the boy get worked up. "He was caught and placed in Azkaban."
"Yeah" Sirius confirmed. "He was in there with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wants Mad-Eye at Hogwarts this year. Moody caught Karkaroff, bet he's there just to keep him in line."
"But why was he released?" Harry asked slowly, his temper coming back under control.
"He made a deal with the Ministry of Magic" the dog animagus said bitterly. "Said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names…he put a load of other people in Azkaban in his place. He's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what we can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well"
"Ok…but are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me competing."
"We know he's a good actor" said Remus. "He convinced the Ministry to set him free didn't he? Now we've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet, Harry, you really dodged a bullet not letting Rita Sketter write about you-"
Harry chose to keep quiet about the fact that it was in fact Dumbledore that had intervened.
"-Anyway, we've been reading in between the lines of what she's been saying in her last article. Remember how Amos reported Moody going nuts at the Ministry? Well before that he was attacked. At the time we thought it was a false alarm but now we're not so sure. If someone attacked Mad-Eye before he could reach Hogwarts, they probably thought he'd make things more difficult for them. No one would look to closely at it since Mad-Eye's heard intruders a bit too often. But that doesn't mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had, not to mention Tonks' mentor."
"But why come after me? He already set himself up in another country?"
Sirius and Remus looked at each other, having a silent conversation before continuing.
"I've been hearing some very strange things" Sirius said slowly. "The Death Eaters seem to be a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves at the Quidditch World Cup. Someone set off the Dark Mark…and then- have you heard about the Ministry witch who's gone missing?"
"No."
"Bertha Jorkins, she disappeared in Albania, and that's where Voldemort was last rumored to be…and she would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up, wouldn't she?"
"Yeah, but it's not like she's going to walk straight into Voldemort's hands, is she?" said Harry.
"Listen, we knew Bertha" Remus said grimly. "She was a couple years above us, and she wasn't very…."
"She was an idiot" Sirius said bluntly, getting a snort from Harry and glare from Remus for his tactlessness. "Very nosy with no brains. Not a good combination. She'd be easy to lure into a trap."
"Look we don't know anything for sure yet" said the werewolf, taking over from Sirius. "We just wanted to keep you in the loop and make sure you know to be careful. We don't know who entered you into the tournament. So it's best to proceed with caution."
"Exactly" Sirius agreed. "Now about this dragon, you got any ideas on how to deal with that short of using your sword and slaying it?"
"Not exactly" Harry confessed. "But I already told the guys I'm not using my Soul Reaper powers. It wouldn't feel right to use them in a wizarding completion"
Sirius looked like he was about to protest the handicap but Remus spoke up first.
"Harry it's very commendable to want to have some semblance of fair play. But promise us that if it'll save your life you'll use your powers."
"I promise" Harry agreed. "But what about the…Felix!" he complained as Yoruichi landed heavily into his lap.
Her reason soon revealed as a sixth year couple wandered into the common room, obviously looking for some privacy. With the Floo call forced to a close, a red faced Harry hurried up to bed. The entire time he couldn't help but feel as if the cat was laughing at him.
