Harry Potter and the Veil of Time
Chapter Nine: I'm Serious... Sirius
By Cybergades
Harry made his way in a daze across the Hogwarts grounds, a chill wind whipping the Invisibility Cloak around his ankles. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut; an Unspeakable sniffing around Hogwarts, looking for him? This meant that everything that happened after this point was unpredictable, not to mention that a shady Ministry official snooping around Hogwarts was very likely to spook Barty Crouch, Jr., which could ruin Harry's element of surprise at the end of the year. Torn between worry and anger, he took off the cloak as he approached the Gryffindor Common Room, mumbling the password and slumping into one of the overstuffed chairs by the fireside. Ron and Hermione had already gone to bed, since Harry had spilled the beans about what Hagrid wanted to show him before he had left, and neither of them was expecting him to return with any further surprises.
He was so distracted by his worries that he didn't even notice at first when the fire started to flare up, the glowing embers and logs shifting with a crackle of sparks to form the face of his godfather. When at last he looked up and noticed, he started with a slight jerk, before remembering that this at least was something that was supposed to be happening.
"S-sorry, Sirius, I didn't see you there," he stammered. "How are you?"
"Never mind me," Sirius said, his voice crackling slightly along with the wood, "how are you?"
Harry drew a deep breath before he began to speak. He tried to stumble his way through a full explanation of everything that had happened, frequently stopping to correct himself or to debark on tangents. Sirius, to his own credit, remained silent and attentive throughout Harry's winding tale, sparks occasionally flying out of the top of his head when he nodded at some point Harry was making.
"…and to make matters worse, I have to fight a dragon in a few days as the first task," he finished. "And there's an Unspeakable lurking around the school, he followed me here."
"Well," Sirius said, but then didn't say anything else for several minutes.
"Have you told Dumbledore anything?" he said at last, and Harry breathed an inward sigh of relief that his immediate reaction wasn't disbelief.
"Not yet," he replied.
"Well you need to," Sirius said urgently, "and soon. You're definitely going to need his help before all this is over, especially if the Ministry is snooping around. Don't tell them anything, by the way. There are enough ex-Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries that I would be very careful about telling any of them anything. What's this one's name? Do you know?"
"Artemius…Artemius something," Harry said. "Tall, kind of a gawky bloke."
"Haven't heard of him, but that might just mean he was just a bootlicker, somebody the Death Eaters in Azkaban wouldn't have bothered to mention. He might just be doing his job, but don't take any chances. At the very least, an official Ministry inquiry into studying your time travel will eat into valuable time. At the worst, giving Voldemort the knowledge that he could travel back in time is a frightening prospect."
"Merlin said the portal wouldn't work for just anyone, something about my bloodline."
"That's not really helpful," Sirius mused. "Voldemort's obsessed with blood purity, he'd be convinced that he'd be able to use the gate, and even if that wasn't true, he would spill a lot of pointless blood trying to find out."
"You're probably right," Harry said. "Although the gate would most likely kill him."
"At what cost?" Sirius said. "And are you willing to take the risk that it actually might work?" The fire popped and sputtered as Sirius shuddered. "Dumbledore, Harry. Talk to Dumbledore."
"I will, I will," Harry promised. "After this first task is over, I'll go to see him."
"Take care of yourself, Harry," Sirius said. "I'll try to make some sense of what you've told me and see if I can come up with anything useful for you."
The face of his godfather slowly broke apart and faded into the softly glowing embers of the late-night common room fire, and Harry sat up for several more minutes, lost in thought.
Harry might have been the first student to hear about Hogwarts' new arrival, but word traveled fast down the stony corridors, and it seemed like by the time he sleepily descended the stairs to the Great Hall the next morning, everyone from Ravenclaw's towers to the dankest Slytherin dungeon-dweller was abuzz with rumors and speculation about the creepy-looking Ministry employee stalking the halls of Hogwarts, having quiet but hostile conversations with professors and eying everyone he came across with suspicion or distaste.
"I heard he's from Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," Ron said around a crunchy mouthful of toast.
"Really?" Hermione said, looking towards the staff table nervously. "You don't think Hagrid…"
"Not this time," Harry said.
"What then?" Ron said, punctuating himself with a loud chomp. "Magical Law Enforcement?"
"Worse, if that's even possible," Harry said with a grimace. "He's an Unspeakable, from the Death Chamber."
"You mean he's here for you?"
"Aren't they always?" Ron said, rolling his eyes. Harry felt a momentary pang of guilt.
"Yes," he said, ignoring Ron's comment, "and if he finds out it was me that caused the gate to open in the Death Chamber, I'll never be able to get anything done, I'll be spirited away to the Department of Mysteries and interrogated until Voldemort decides to show up and kill everyone."
"But he's got no way of knowing it was you," Hermione reasoned. "The trail probably dead-ends at Hogwarts, there's so much magic going on just keeping the place hidden from Muggles, never mind all the classes and tests, any sort of signature you left behind weeks ago would have been long gone by now."
"I hope you're right," Harry said, gazing absently across the Great Hall. He was about to get lost in another futile session of pondering his options when his eye caught Cedric Diggory leaving the Great Hall.
"Crap, that's right!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Cedric still doesn't know about the dragons, he's the only one!"
"More of an advantage for you, mate," Ron said.
"Come off it, Ron, Cedric would do the same if the situations were reversed. I'll catch up with you guys later," he said, leaving them with a wave and walking quickly to catch up with the Hufflepuff champion.
"Cedric!" he called after the upper classman, who turned and looked back curiously at the sound of his own name, jostled from one side to the other by a gaggle of passing students. When he saw Harry waving, he gave a cautious sort of wave back, moving towards him slightly until they met in the middle of the corridor.
"Harry," he said with a nod. "What's up?"
"Been preparing much for the first test?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Well, hard to know what to prepare for, isn't it?" Cedric said with a sheepish smile and a shrug. "I don't know any way to practice being brave, and all they said was that the task was a test of our bravery, so-"
"It's dragons," Harry said in a low voice. Cedric stopped talking, tilting his head quizzically.
"S'what?" he asked, squinting slightly.
"Dragons," Harry repeated, glancing over one shoulder to check for eavesdroppers. "I saw Hagrid helping to contain them, last night. Karkaroff and Maxine know as well, which means you can bet Fleur and Krum are aware by now." Cedric nodded in agreement, but seemed uneasy.
"Alright, alright, but why tell me?"
"Because," Harry said, almost defensively. "It wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it?" He shrugged. "It's barely fair now, come to think of it. Anyway, just being a good sport and all that. I'm sure you can figure a way past a rampaging dragon or two, eh?"
"Right…sure…" Cedric said, rubbing the back of his head and looking as though he had just been appointed to jury duty. "Bloody dragons…"
"You'll do fine," Harry said, in what he hoped was a helpful and not a patronizing tone. Turning on his heel, he left Cedric to ponder his way through the dragon problem, but he was stopped several hallways away on his way to the Gryffindor tower by a piercing voice.
"Mister Potter, I believe."
He winced. He was becoming increasingly familiar with that voice, although it appeared this was to be the first time it was actually directed towards him. Trying not to look too much like he had been caught in the middle of something, he turned to look at the towering figure behind him.
"S-sir," he said, feigning ignorance. "I am, sir. Harry Potter, that is."
"Your reputation precedes you," Artemius said, one corner of his mouth turning up slightly in a mirthless smile. Harry felt like a mouse being observed by a cat.
"I'm sorry?" he said, unsure of how to proceed. If Artemius knew anything, wouldn't he have been arrested by now?
"People tell me you run in some pretty strange circles, Potter," Artemius said, stroking at his chin thoughtfully. "Care to comment?"
"People in Slytherin tell you?" Harry asked, picturing Malfoy's smug face.
"Students say you were pretty closely involved in the Chamber of Secrets being opened in your second year here at Hogwarts," Artemius continued, ignoring Harry. "And there's this business of you somehow bamboozling your way into the Triwizard Tournament."
"I didn't put my name into the goblet!" Harry said, now incensed.
"Regardless of what can or cannot be proven," Artemius said, raising his hands disarmingly, "you have a history of being surrounded by some very powerful magic, Mister Potter, very powerful magic indeed, and unprecedented magic at that. You are the only one to survive the Killing Curse, is that not correct?"
"That's right," Harry replied through gritted teeth.
"Very interesting," Artemius said, before retracting his hands into his robes and pulling himself back, looming even taller over Harry.
"You know, boy, if there's anything you'd like to share with me…anything you feel you need to get off your chest about you or someone close to you, I can promise leniency…"
Harry made a show of screwing up his brow and thinking for several moments.
"No, I can't think of anything, sir, sorry. Although if you've got any tips on this whole Triwizard situation, I'm all ears."
"I can promise leniency now, Potter," Artemius said, thrusting a bony finger into Harry's face. "But I can't promise that offer will be there indefinitely. If I discover-" he opened his mouth, but thought better of it, and shut it again. Harry wondered if he was about to spill some sort of detail about his work in the Death Chamber. He realized that he was unsure if Unspeakables were simply forbidden from talking about their work, or if there was some sort of enchantment at work literally preventing them from divulging any information. Artemius glared at Harry for a few more seconds before stalking away, robes billowing behind him like curtains in an open window. Harry shuddered, trying to shake the sensation of the Unspeakable's presence off him, and swiftly returned to Gryffindor Tower.
"You think we should what?" Ron asked. "Harry, are you hearing this?"
"What?" Hermione said. "He's locked up in that chest, miserable and starving to death!"
"Hermione," Harry said. "We've been over this. If we do anything to help Mad-Eye Moody, it could tip off Crouch, and we'd be-"
"We'd be what, Harry? Crouch already had an Unspeakable lurking around the campus, he could get spooked any day now, and he'd probably just kill Mad-Eye then, we have to help him!"
"The Unspeakable is exactly why we can't help," Harry said. "Crouch will be extra cautious, extra wary of everything around him. In that, he always played the perfect Mad-Eye Moody, he had the paranoia thing down to a tee. The only downside is, I don't think I can ever go into his office, if he ever takes me aside in there it'll be trouble."
"Why?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"It's his…he's got this mirror," Harry tried to explain. "He called it a Foe Glass-"
"Oh!" Hermione piped up. "A Foe Glass? That means he'll be able to track the movements and proximity of all his enemies. It's a very powerful sort of Dark Detector," she nodded knowingly.
"Thank you. Hermione." Harry said, trying to brush off her interruption. "The figures in the glass are usually all shadowy, they didn't really appear clearly until they were right outside the door last time, so I figure as long as I stay away from his office, he might not realize that I'm one of his enemies, that I know his secret."
"But he's a professor, Harry," Hermione said, a worried edge on her voice. "What are you going to do if he calls you aside after class? Or if he just finds a reason to give you detention?"
"Well, I'll just have to play it by ear, then," Harry said. His two friends did not look comforted by this plan of action. "What? What do you want me to say, that I have the perfect plan to deal with a Polyjuicing madman in a position of authority? I'm doing the best I can here!"
"We know, Harry," Hermione said. "We're just worried about you. Isn't there something we should be doing to help, instead of just waiting around like this?"
"I think you might be right," Harry said with a sigh. "Sirius agrees with you two; he thinks I should tell Dumbledore as soon as possible. I'm going to wait, though, until after this dragon business is finished. I know I've done it already, but it still makes me nervous just thinking about it. I don't know if you guys know this or not," he said, eyes on Hermione, "but dragons are really bloody big."
Ron and Hermione, who had been staring at him as though he was about to deliver some more bad news from the future, looked on blankly for a few moments. Ron was the first to break the silence, a husky chuckle escaping from his mouth, quickly growing into a raucous laughter. Hermione joined in, the nervous tension in the room fueling their guffawing. Harry almost laughed hard enough to forget about the troubles ahead.
The last few days before the challenge passed by quickly, and despite his constant claims of a need for preparation, Harry found himself lounging around the Common Room more often than not. Deep down, he realized that his desire to wait until after the first task to approach Dumbledore was born just as much of procrastination as of prudence. Even though he had an extremely stressful and intense fourth year at Hogwarts, having a second go of it was like a reclamation of his childhood, before he had been so directly exposed to death and harsh reality. It was a sad comment on his life, he sometimes thought to himself, that an encounter with a dragon represented escapist stress avoidance for him.
It happened suddenly, despite weeks of anticipation. One minute, Harry was walking by the Great Hall, and the next, Professor McGonagall had an arm around his shoulder and was shepherding him towards the outdoors.
"Come come, now, Potter, it's almost time for the first task. You have to meet with the other champions to discover what you'll be doing."
"Now, the important thing is not to panic," she said as they made their way out of the castle. "There are wizards standing by in case anything gets out of hand, so just try your best, and nobody will think any less of you…are you feeling alright?"
"Fine," Harry said. "Never better."
McGonagall hurried him towards the champion's tent and inside, wishing him one last bit of good luck before departing. The tent-flap closed behind him, and Harry walked forward into the canvas enclosure, following the sound of Ludo Bagman's voice.
"Harry! Good-O!" Bagman practically shouted as Harry drew near. "Come in, come in, and make yourself at home!" Harry exchanged nods or glances with the other three champions, rubbing his clamming hands together.
"Now that all four of the champions are here," Bagman said, "we can explain the first task." Reaching into his robes, he drew forth a familiar-looking purple silk sack. "You will each be reaching into this pouch and drawing one of the…erm…objects inside. There are different varieties you see. And that will represent the, erm, the thing you have to face. And, oh, what was it…oh, yes, your task will be to collect the golden egg!"
None of the other three champions showed any interest or recognition. Harry couldn't resist.
"The golden egg, sir?" he asked, feigning a child's innocence. "But what does it mean?"
"All in due time, lad, all in due time," Bagman replied obliviously. "Now then, ladies first." He held out the bag to Fleur Delacour, while outside the tent Harry could hear the dull thunder if hundreds of footsteps filling the stadium in which they would be competing. Fleur reached one trembling hand into the bag, biting her lower lip as she drew forth the small model of the Welsh Green, the number "2" hanging around its neck.
"Oh my goodness!" Harry said loudly. "Dragons, Ludo? Are you sure this is safe?"
Ludo was quick to launch into a rambling and nigh-incoherent speech about the safety precautions having been taken for the events of the day. As he stumbled over his own words, Harry caught Cedric's eye, and noticed that the upperclassman was trembling with the effort of not bursting into laughter. He flashed him a smile as Karkaroff reached into the bag and pulled out the Swedish Short-Snout, the number "1" dragon.
"Wait," Harry said softly, his smile faltering for a moment.
"Here goes nothing," Cedric said, plunging his hand into the bag and coming up with-
"The Hungarian Horntail?" Harry blurted out loud, staring at the dragon in Cedric's hand, the number "4" dangling innocuously off its neck.
"Know your dragons, do you, Potter?" Bagman said with a smile.
"Yes, well, um," Harry said, his mind fighting to come up with something believable. "It's just, you know, Ron's brother Charlie works with dragons, and I got a chance to talk with him over the summer, it's all quite interesting, really."
"How fortunate for you," Krum said drily.
"Well," Harry said finally, trying to quell the rising panic inside him. "Just the one left, I suppose." He reached into the bag, feeling the squirming figurine inside, and drew forth the Chinese Fireball, which hissed at him softly as it scratched at the number "3" hung around its neck.
"Very good, everyone. Now, then, Krum, you're up first, so just wait for the whistle and go on out when you're called. Now…Harry…could I have a quick word outside?"
"Sure," Harry said reluctantly, and let Bagman walk him out of the tent towards the nearby treeline.
"Feeling alright, Harry?" Ludo said kindly. "Anything I can get you?"
"Nothing, I'm fine," Harry said guardedly. Ludo reached over to punch him softly in the side.
"There there, lad, I'm just trying to help you, you know."
"Don't," Harry said brusquely. "I have it under control, you know."
"Course you do, lad, of course you do. I'm not saying you need my help, or anything of that sort, merely that should you wish it, I might be able to-"
"Set me up to win?" Harry asked pointedly. "Stand to make a killing off the Triwizard Tournament, do you, Mister Bagman?"
Ludo chuckled sheepishly, obviously taken aback. Harry continued.
"I'm sure the Gringotts goblins would love to learn about your whereabouts and activities." At this Ludo Bagman's face went pale, and Harry knew that he had him in his grasp. "You know, on second thought, Ludo, perhaps you can help me in some way."
"O-of course, lad, anything," Bagman said.
"We'll talk later," Harry said, turning away from the Ministry employee. "I have a dragon egg to steal."