I'd like to thank fredfred and InquisitorCOC for beta-reading.

Chapter 4: The Tournament

Dartmoor, Devon, Britain, August 25th, 1994

Petunia Evans wasn't much of a Quidditch fan, but as the aunt and single guardian - not counting a godfather who had just recently been released from prison - of a Quidditch fanatic, she knew that there were certain things she simply couldn't avoid. Like attending the World Cup when it was held in England.

Which was why she had found herself in the same place as the biggest congregation of wizards and witches in the world. Everyone she could see was carrying a wand. Apart from herself. At least her muggle clothes - tank top, jeans and sensible boots - didn't stand out, for a change. Not among hundreds of different fashions from all over the magical world.

And a hundred vendors of all kinds of overpriced Quidditch merchandise, she added to herself as she herded Harry and his friends through a maze of stalls fiendishly placed in the optimal layout to relieve fans attending the World Cup of their Galleons. Or, in this case, Black's Galleons. Though she wasn't annoyed that Black had also bought their tickets - the prices that the scalpers demanded would have dented even her budget.

"Look! A Viktor Krum T-shirt!" Ron pointed excitedly at the next stall.

Harry scoffed. "Krum's overrated."

"He had the best Seeker statistics last season - not just in Bulgaria, but in all of the European leagues. Least average time spent seeking per game, and in total. And quickest average catching time, both from the start of a game and from spotting the Snitch," Hermione pointed out.

"Bah." Harry sniffed. "I bet I could do better if I spent as much time training."

Black, who had already bought the shirt, and another sporting the Holyhead Harpies' Seeker, smiled at Harry. "Do you want me to hire a Quidditch trainer?"

Petunia bit her tongue so she didn't lash out at the painfully obvious attempt to buy Harry's favour. Black couldn't boast more of his wealth if he tried.

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm going to be a Curse-Breaker and tomb raider. Like Bill and Auntie. That's much cooler than a professional Quidditch player - Curse-Breakers have to be smart!"

Hermione nodded in apparent agreement.

"And brave," Ron added.

"Are all of you planning to become Curse-Breakers?" Black asked.

"Of course! We're going to be the best team ever!" Harry smiled. "Even better than Bill and Auntie."

Petunia smiled at him, but if she were honest with herself, then she didn't know how to feel about this. Harry deciding to become a Curse-Breaker had been cute when he had been six years old. It had been flattering when he still hadn't changed his plans for his future after his first year at Hogwarts. But now, three years into his magical education, he was not only still set on following in her and Bill's footsteps, but was dragging his friends along? Curse-Breaking was a dangerous occupation. There was a reason there were very few experienced Curse-Breakers of Bill's level. To think that Harry would be risking his life each day…

She would be a hypocrite if she told him to pick another, safer profession, and yet she would do so in a heartbeat if she thought that he would heed her. But he wouldn't. And his godfather would enable him.

Harry's excited voice interrupted her thoughts. "Look! A Holyhead Harpies calendar!"

Black bought four of those, of course.

"This feels like a family dinner," Harry suddenly announced that evening after the final - Ireland had beaten Bulgaria despite Krum catching the Snitch, which Harry had decried as a poor decision by the Seeker - while they were sitting at the table in their wizarding tent. Black's, of course, and brand new.

Petunia quickly swallowed and narrowed her eyes at her nephew. He was acting innocent, of course, but she knew better. He had been the one who had wanted 'a quiet dinner with Auntie and Sirius' when the Weasleys had invited them over. Subtle, he wasn't.

Neither was Black, of course. "It does, doesn't it?" He beamed at Harry, then winked at her.

She tried to joke about it. "It's missing the family dinner rows." The rows the Evans had had at dinner had often been spectacularly loud.

"I don't miss those!" Black declared. "Mother used Stinging Hexes and worse to make her points."

"Really?" Harry stared at him with wide eyes.

"Yes, really." Black sighed. "She wasn't very stable even when I was little, but she grew worse with age."

She was tempted to comment that Black's teenage rebellion had likely not helped matters, but Petunia was loath to support blood purists. Lily had been murdered by their leader. "Well, not all rows lead to hexing," she said, "but…" Were those screams?

"What the…?" Black stood and rushed to the tent's entrance.

She was right behind him, even after grabbing the shoulder holster she had hung on the peg next to her room on the way.

The evening air outside was filled with screaming and yelling - and explosions. A thick column of smoke rose into the sky south of them, illuminated by the various fires nearby. Fires that were not just campfires, but burning tents as well, she realised.

"It's an attack!" she snarled. "Harry, go to the Weasleys!" She pointed at the tent next to them, where Arthur and Bill had appeared in the entrance.

"But Auntie!"

"Do what she says!" Black snapped.

After checking that Harry had actually obeyed, she pulled her Omnioculars from her belt and started scanning the southern part of the camping area. People were running in panic in all directions - as long as they led away from the fire. And near the fire… She froze as she spotted a figure in dark robes with a white mask.

"Death Eaters!" she hissed.

"What?" Black gasped. "Where?"

"At the fire." And they were headed their way. "Molly! Arthur!" she yelled. "Get the children to safety! Death Eaters south of us!"

"What?" Arthur gaped at her. Molly was quicker to react. She was already inside their tent, bellowing for the kids to drop everything and follow her.

"Death Eaters?" Bill asked, joining her and Black.

"At the fire," she repeated. "Dark robes, white masks." Dressed like Death Eaters and acting like Death Eaters. That was good enough for her.

And good enough for Black and Bill, judging by their expressions. "We'll stall them," Bill yelled to his parents as they herded the children outside.

Petunia nodded, then dashed into Black's tent to grab her assault rifle from her bag. She would need a bigger gun for this.

Black and Bill had already taken up positions behind conjured stone walls by the time she rejoined them, with one wall left for her. She grinned despite the situation as she knelt down behind it - Bill knew her well.

She brought the rifle to her shoulder and switched the safety to semi-automatic, then started looking for a target. It was almost as easy as spotting the target at the range - the burning tents illuminated the Death Eaters moving towards them perfectly. The closest were around a hundred yards away.

She lined up her shot, first aiming at the chest, then a little higher when she saw that the Death Eater in front was just standing there, flicking his wand and directing the others. Like an officer. Snarling, she squeezed the trigger, and his head snapped back as his shattered mask went flying.

She was lining up the next target before his body hit the ground. This time, she aimed for the chest and squeezed off two shots quickly. Both hit and that wizard went down as well.

Now he could see the Death Eaters reacting. They were crouching, looking around with wands raised, no longer leisurely strolling towards tents to set them on fire. If only she could use her grenade launcher… but that would endanger others. She spotted another exposed Death Eater, silhouetted by the burning tent behind him, and shot twice at him, but the wizard's shield stopped both of her bullets. Snarling, she switched to three-round bursts and fired again, but he had dropped to the ground.

And now they knew where she was. She dropped behind cover and scrambled away. A few seconds later, the wall shattered under the impact of several curses. She speed-crawled into cover next to Bill and rolled on her back. "Got two, but they're aware of us now."

"Aurors should be already arriving," he said, peering over the wall. A scream cut through the night, and he grinned. "One wasn't looking where he was going."

"Carpet Crocodile?" she asked. Bill had become quite fond of the spell.

"Lawn Crocodile, in this case."

More screaming came from beyond Black's position, and, a few seconds later, she saw him sprinting towards them as his own wall blew up behind him in a fountain of flames. He jumped over a dropped trunk and rolled the last few yards over his shoulder, coming to rest next to her.

"They didn't like my family spells," he said, almost conversationally. "Philistines."

"No one likes your family spells," Bill retorted.

Petunia was busy covering their other flank. The Death Eaters would be circling around them to catch them in a pincer attack. There! She took aim at the robed wizard navigating the mess of burning and collapsed tents to the east of them. He wasn't even looking in their direction, must have gotten lost… She cursed. She had almost shot an Auror. "Aurors have arrived!" she yelled. "Watch your fire!"

With the eastern flank covered, she ducked and changed position, crawling to the trunk Black had jumped over. It would offer a decent enough field of fire, and a stable rest for her rifle.

But once in position, she couldn't see any enemies. Only red-robed Aurors swarming the area.

"Looks like the fun's over," Black said, slowly standing up.

"Let's go to The Burrow," Petunia said. She needed to know if - that - Harry was safe.

And she didn't want to deal with the Aurors right now.

Cokeworth, Midlands, Britain, August 27th, 1994

Lucius Malfoy murdered while under the Imperius Curse

"Does anyone believe that?" Harry asked, pointing at the headline of today's Daily Prophet. "That someone put him under the Imperius to attack the World Cup?"

Petunia snorted. "Only the dumb ones." If it were anyone else, Petunia would have mentioned 'innocent until proven guilty'. But this was Malfoy. She hoped that she had been the one to kill him. If it wouldn't have given away her involvement, she'd ask the DMLE if he had died from a headshot. But she couldn't do that - they had to suspect her already, and she didn't trust that 'self-defence' would be an acceptable excuse for a squib shooting the illustrious bastard. And if Dumbledore and Gringotts had to intervene, she would owe them.

"Narcissa knows who to bribe," Black remarked, leaning back in his chair until he was balancing it on two legs. "And the DMLE won't care since he's dead anyway."

Petunia looked at him as she cleaned up the remains of their breakfast. "Have you spoken with Dumbledore?" If he had the gall to invite himself to breakfast - not even lunch or dinner! - then she expected him to at least not come empty-handed.

"Yes," he nodded. "That's why I came, actually." He grinned at her. "Even though your cooking is worth the trip."

She scoffed in response; she knew that she was no Molly.

"Anyway, they identified the other dead Death Eaters. As much as you can call 'mercenaries, probably from the Balkans' an identification," Black went on.

Petunia stiffened. The 'grave robbers' had been mercenaries from the Balkans as well. That could be a coincidence, but she doubted it.

"I'm just wondering why dear Lucius led them - that wasn't his style." Black shook his head. "The whole attack doesn't make much sense. Why fake a Death Eater attack? Narcissa claims that it was an attempt not just to murder her late husband, but also to destroy his reputation by having him be killed leading 'Death Eaters'. The Ministry is running with it, of course - Fudge wouldn't want to be associated with a Death Eater."

Petunia shook her head, but she hadn't expected anything else. At least Harry would be back at Hogwarts in a few days. He'd be safe there.

Hogwarts, November 2nd, 1994

Petunia clenched her teeth as she climbed the stairs leading to the Headmaster's office. Even after a day's worth of travelling, she was still furious. She just didn't know at whom, yet. Her Harry, taking part in this stupid, murderous tournament? Whoever was responsible for this would pay dearly! Even if it were Harry himself. She thought he would be smarter than that, but she knew how stupid teenagers could be at that age - and Harry's letters had been full of complaints about 'the oh so famous Krum' coming to Hogwarts to take part in the Triwizard Tournament, ever after he had lost a Seeker duel against Krum.

"Ah, Petunia. Please have a seat. We were just talking about you." Dumbledore smiled politely at her, then gestured at a tall, slim wizard. "This is Barty Crouch; he organised the tournament on the Ministry's side. Barty, this is Petunia Evans, Harry's aunt."

She nodded at him. He barely glanced at her.

"I told him that you'd kill him if it were his fault that Harry's in danger," Black, already seated, added with a grin that lacked any humour.

"It wasn't my fault, nor the Ministry's," Crouch replied in a calm, almost bored tone. "It's probably Potter's own fault; I've heard enough about his antics."

Petunia snarled at the arrogant wizard. "Been talking to Snape? Or to the parents of the Slytherins Harry and his friends routinely outperform?"

He only sniffed in response.

"I have sent for Harry, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, actually," Dumbledore cut in before things could grow more heated. "Why don't you take a seat while we wait? Lemon sherbet?" He offered her the bowl on his desk.

She sat down but declined the sweets. She needed to see Harry and get to the bottom of this whole mess!

The door opened, and her nephew entered, followed by his two friends. "Auntie! You're here!" His face lit up when he saw her, and Petunia knew that he hadn't entered his name into the damned goblet even before she closed her arms around him in a hug. "I didn't put my name in!"

"I know, Harry," she assured him - she knew how he behaved when he was guilty.

Of course, Crouch didn't accept either her word or Harry's on the matter. "How sweet. And we're supposed to accept this performance as proof of his innocence?"

She glared at the wizard, holding on to Harry, who apparently wanted to hug Black as well. "Are you honestly trying to tell me that a teenager in his fourth year at Hogwarts managed to defeat the security you placed on the goblet?"

"Yeah!" Ron nodded emphatically. "We couldn't think of a way to do it!" Hermione stepped on his foot and he swallowed the rest of what he had wanted to say.

Petunia let Harry go so she could look in his eyes. "You tried to circumvent the goblet's defences?"

"Purely as a theoretical exercise," he said. "We didn't even gather any of the material we might have needed. We just speculated about how we could get past the age line."

"Wild speculation," Hermione added. "Without any practical value." The young witch was a better liar than Harry was, Petunia noted, but it didn't help their cause. Dumbledore smiled and Black was chuckling, but Crouch remained expressionless.

"A likely story," he said. "But even if the children are telling the truth, the fact remains that Mr Potter is bound by the goblet's contract to take part in the tournament."

"Contracts can be broken," Petunia reminded him.

He sneered. "I'd like to see you try."

She clenched her teeth at the insult, held Harry back from defending her and managed to smile in return. "I'll leave that to my partner - Bill Weasley. You might have heard of him; finest Curse-Breaker in Gringotts' employ."

Judging by his lack of reaction, he hadn't heard of Bill. Petunia would rectify that at the first opportunity.

Hogwarts, November 5th, 1994

"So that's the goblet," Bill commented as he took his first look at the relic. "Looks impressive." He flicked his wand and cast a detection spell, then whistled. "Really impressive."

Petunia pressed her lips together. She had known that the goblet was an artefact dating back to the time before Hogwarts had been founded, and that magic items could grow more powerful with age. But she had hoped that a thousand years of advancement in all areas of magic would have rendered the goblet's defences obsolete, like so many wards on Egyptian tombs. Apparently, that wasn't the case. She knew better than to complain, of course. Bill had dropped everything in Egypt to come to her and Harry's aid, risking Ripclaw's ire.

So she nodded. "I see. Can I help you in any way?"

He swished his wand around. "Yes."

"Yes?" She hadn't expected that. "What do you need?"

"I'll have to see the three champions, check how the contract is tied to them - and if there are differences between the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons champions and Harry," Bill explained.

That made sense, and it was something a squib could do. "I'll get them," she told him.

"You don't need to hurry - I'll have to study this for a few hours first, to get a feel for the pattern. It's really unique; I haven't seen half of these spells before…"

She pressed her lips together again as he delved into arithmantic details. She hated being useless - helpless - while he worked with his wand. "I'll go and ask them to come and see you in the afternoon," she said. In a softer voice, she added: "Thank you for coming."

"Hey!" He looked up and smiled at her. "That's what partners do. You'd do the same for me." He grinned. "And what sort of Curse-Breaker would I be if I didn't jump to help a pretty woman?"

She shook her head, chuckling as she turned and left him to do his magic.

Viktor Krum looked less impressive in the flesh than on Quidditch merchandise, Petunia noticed. He wasn't ugly, and he had an intense gaze and a strong chin, but he didn't look like the star Seeker he was, not on the ground. He looked more human.

The same couldn't be said about the Beauxbatons' champion. Fleur Delacour was inhumanly beautiful. Literally so - she was a Veela. A Veela and a witch, with a body to die for and a smile that turned teenage boys into drooling idiots without any spells being cast. Or, she added, looking at Harry, who was repeatedly raising himself up on his tiptoes as if he were trying to appear taller next to Fleur, turned them into reckless idiots trying to impress her. As if Fleur would give a 'leetle boy' the time of the day, Boy-Who-Lived or not.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "I'm very grateful for your help."

"As am I," Bill added, beaming at the champions. No, beaming at Fleur, Petunia noticed. She should have expected that, of course. For all his joking flirting with her, Bill was a young wizard, and Fleur was the most attractive girl she, and likely Bill, had ever seen. The most attractive witch, too, she added, trying not to glare at her. No wonder there were tales about a 'Veela allure' which captivated men at a mere glance.

Petunia knew that she shouldn't feel this way. She wasn't interested in Bill. And Fleur was helping her and Harry. But she still loathed how ugly and helpless she felt in the Veela's presence.

"It is my pleasure to 'elp 'Arry," Fleur replied - to Bill. Who was, Petunia also knew, a very handsome and very dashing Curse-Breaker, one of the best in his profession. And a wizard who knew his way around women and witches.

So when Petunia saw Harry scowl at the two young people flirting, she didn't know if she should scowl with him or grin at him.

"I'll be in the library, continuing my research," she said instead of doing either and left the group.

"Here! This is Macmillan's Standard Book on Magical Contracts, first edition!" Hermione announced with a proud smile as she dropped a thick tome on the desk Petunia had taken over in the Hogwarts Library. "It's from the fifteenth century," the witch added with a frown, "which is quite a bit younger than the goblet, but it could still provide you with useful information."

Judging by Hermione's almost apologetic smile, Petunia wasn't the only one who hated feeling useless when Harry was in danger. She smiled at the witch. "Thank you. In my experience, crucial information can be found in the oddest places."

That had Hermione beam at her again and the witch sat down across from her, pulling out her notes and opening another old book on curses while Petunia once again focused on the treatise about binding contracts she had been studying.

For a while, only the scratching noise from Hermione's enchanted quill was audible as they worked in silence. Then Hermione cleared her throat. "Petunia?"

Petunia looked up. "Yes?"

"Can I ask you a question? It's a little personal, though."

Petunia grew tense. Hermione hadn't asked about 'her life as a squib' since their second meeting, but this did sound like she was about to pry again. She still nodded, though.

"Do you know why Harry's trying so hard to impress older girls?"

Petunia almost chuckled in relief, but that would have hurt Hermione's feelings - the witch was biting her lower lip as she waited for an answer to her question; it was obviously not idle curiosity that had prompted this. She took a deep breath, wondering how best to tackle this without violating Harry's privacy. "Well, I blame his upbringing," she began.

"His upbringing?" Hermione stared at her. "But didn't you raise him by yourself?"

"I did. But due to my work, he spent a lot of time in Egypt among Curse-Breakers." And goblins, but they, fortunately, hadn't had any influence on Harry.

"Oh." Hermione blinked. "You mean Curse-Breakers like Bill."

She was a sharp one. Petunia nodded. "Yes. As you know, he wants to become a Curse-Breaker, and he has picked up some of Bill's views and attitude." And sometimes, Harry took Bill's jokes seriously. Like Bill's comment about older witches being the best choice for a young wizard thanks to their experience. But she couldn't tell Hermione that - Harry would never forgive her.

Hermione pursed her lips. "But he's no Bill."

"He isn't," Petunia agreed. "But don't try telling him that."

"Even when he's trying to impress Fleur? She called him a 'little boy' to his face, you know!" Hermione shook her head. "If that's not a clear sign that she's not interested, then I don't know what is," she added with a scowl.

Petunia couldn't help thinking that Hermione sounded not quite as protective of Harry as she might have wanted to appear - the girl had a crush. But Harry had his pride, as Petunia knew only too well. "He'll learn in time," she said.

Hermione huffed, and she muttered something under her breath that sounded like 'he'd better'.

Petunia hid her smile behind the next book.

Hogwarts, November 13th, 1994

It felt weird, spending so much time at Hogwarts, Petunia thought as she made her way to the Defence classroom. She still remembered Dumbledore's kind but firm response to her letter in which she had begged to be able to go to Hogwarts. And now she, a squib, was practically living here! And people didn't mock her - although that was to be expected after her battle with the Basilisk. She still owed Dumbledore a favour for leaning on Lockhart to describe that battle more fairly; it had certainly helped her reputation. Apart from the unpleasant fact that it had also rekindled the rumours that she and Lockhart were in a relationship.

If only the reason for her presence - officially she was a 'security consultant' - weren't that her Harry had been forced into that stupid, deadly tournament. If only Bill had already managed to break the goblet's contract. And, she added as she glanced over her shoulder, she would also like it if that creepy caretaker would stop staring at her whenever they met.

She reached the Defence classroom and knocked on the door.

"Enter!" sounded a jovial voice. Black.

She sighed, then opened the door and nodded at Black and Lupin. "Sirius. Remus."

"Petunia! Look at this - we've prepared a comprehensive lesson plan for Harry's special training!" Black pushed a roll of parchment in her face. "We'll cram the most important lessons into ten days, leaving us with a few more days in reserve until the first task!"

Judging by Lupin's expression - he was smiling slightly and shaking his head - it was less a 'we' and more a 'he' behind the lesson plan. Petunia didn't mind that at all. Black was enthusiastic and knew more dark curses than he should, but, by all accounts, Lupin was a great teacher. She still had her reservations about the past that he was hiding, and his frequent, but regular, absences hinted at a rather dark secret, but as long as he did all he could to help Harry, that would have to be enough.

"It's too bad that Bill needs more time to break the contract, but at least it gives us time to spend with Harry!" Black said, beaming at her again. With a leer, he added: "And it gives Bill time to spend with Fleur." She frowned at him - that was a transparent dig at her partner - and he hastily backpedalled. "Not that I think that he'd procrastinate just to spend more time with the ravissante mademoiselle. I'm certain that he's doing all he can to help Harry!"

She shook her head. Black was trying far too hard, even if he never actually asked. "As we'll be doing our best to help him," she said.

"Of course!" Black said. "He'll be ready for everything that tournament can throw at him!"

"Good." She nodded at him. "Because there's been a new development that is of concern to us."

He narrowed his eyes at her and Lupin frowned. "What happened?"

"The Headmaster informed me that the DMLE is investigating attacks on three Ministry employees who were involved in planning the arena for the tournament," Petunia told them. "They were attacked in their homes, stunned and obliviated of the attack."

"Someone wanted information about the tournament's defences. They want to sabotage it," Black said, "to hurt Harry."

"That's the most likely explanation," Petunia agreed. "Dumbledore's called a few of his 'old friends' to help with the tournament's security."

"Might as well reactivate the Order," Black muttered. "We all know Voldemort will be back anyway."

Ah. Petunia filed that information away. Before she could ask if he knew anything more about that, the door was opened and Harry, Hermione and Ron entered, all of them looking eager.

"We've decided that all three of us should get the special training since we'll be working together anyway!" Harry declared before she could ask about his friends' presence.

"Yes. One for all and all for one!" Ron chimed in.

"We'll be able to learn more efficiently, too, if we can observe each other and help each other out," Hermione said.

All three faced them with serious expressions. Petunia saw that the two adult wizards were glancing at her. She smiled. "That's true. Good thinking."

It certainly wouldn't hurt Harry's training. And it would hopefully keep Harry's matchmaking attempts in check. Petunia could do without them. "Let's get started then. We've got a lot to cover. Here's the lesson plan." She unrolled the parchment.

Harry looked taken aback, as did Ron, but Hermione was positively beaming.

Hogwarts, November 26th, 1994

Her nephew had been forced into this bloody tournament, and all these wizards and witches thought it would be great entertainment! Petunia stared at the crowd filling the stadium that had been erected between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and wanted to fire a few tear gas grenades into their midst. At least two-thirds of them wouldn't be able to cast a Bubble-Head Charm, she'd bet. Bloody vultures!

"Harry will be fine," Bill said next to her. "Dumbledore has taken every precaution to make the tasks as safe as possible."

She almost snapped at him that she knew that - she had worked with Dumbledore on this, after all, while Bill had kept trying to break the contract. And flirting with Fleur, of course. But she kept her temper in check. It wasn't his fault.

"Harry will be more than fine," Sirius, sitting on her other side, told her. "You know how we've trained him; he'll blow through this little task!"

She glared at him; she really didn't need his hyperbole today. Not when they still hadn't caught the unknown saboteur.

"That looks very dangerous," Ron, sitting in the row below her, commented as he pointed at the arena, where dozens of human-sized stone blocks of various shapes were flying in seemingly random patterns below a floating platform.

"It looks dangerous," Hermione said, "but it's actually not much more dangerous than a professional Quidditch match. There are Cushioning Charms cast on the ground."

That wasn't a reassuring thought - people had died in Quidditch matches. And this was more dangerous - the tournament hadn't been held for centuries because it had been too deadly! No wonder the wizards loved it. Petunia pressed her lips together so she wouldn't curse at everyone nearby.

"Welcome to the first task of the first Triwizard Tournament in over two hundred years!" The voice of the announcer, some washed-up ex-Quidditch star, filled the entire stadium, presumably thanks to a charm of some sort. "Our three champions face a daunting first task! They need to reach the top of the platform floating above us - but they have to brave floating rocks, flying animals and deadly winds to do so! They will need all their skills at magic to survive this task!"

Petunia clenched her teeth and wished the announcer would keel over and die. She closed her eyes and tried to tune the idiot out as he continued to talk people's ears off until, finally, the three champions entered the arena and the thunderous applause and cheering of the audience drowned out the idiot's prattle.

Petunia stared at Harry through her Omnioculars. He looked so young and vulnerable next to the other champions. He was putting on a brave face, but she knew - and could see - that he was nervous. They had trained for this - Black had found out what the task was in advance, probably through bribery - but it was one thing to train, another to brave the task in the middle of this… spectacle.

"And they're off!"

She had missed the champion's introductions, Petunia realised. It didn't matter. She saw Fleur change into a monstrous bird-like form and leapt into the air while Krum pointed his wand at the closest floating stone and started to summon it to himself. And she watched as Harry sprinted through the arena, jumping on a stone block that was flying low above the ground.

Black voiced what she was thinking: "What is he doing? That's not what we taught him. He should be summoning a block to himself and taking control of it. Like Krum's doing!"

Krum was now standing on a block, and slowly rising through the air on it.

Petunia glanced at Ron and Hermione. They didn't seem to be surprised. She leaned forward and tapped Ron on the shoulder. "What's Harry doing?"

Ron flinched and Hermione winced. "Well… we, that is, Harry, thought the only chance to beat Krum and Fleur was to do something different," the redhead confessed.

"He's trying to use the blocks as stepping stones - they'll move much faster if you don't try to force them under your command," Hermione explained. Petunia had no doubt that her analysis was behind this plan.

But the execution was all Harry's. The crowd roared as he jumped from block to block, dodging conjured birds on the way, and sometimes blowing them up, as he made his way up to the platform. Krum was falling behind - he was just too slow, and having to deflect the attacks rather than to dodge them slowed him down even more. Fleur, though, was another story. Unlike the stone blocks Harry and Krum were using, she wasn't protected against the howling winds surrounding the platform. She was thrown around like a leaf in a breeze, a hundred and fifty feet in the air, and the majority of the animals were attacking her, but each beat of her wings brought her a little closer to their goal.

Harry was now a yard below it, but too far away to make the jump. And the rock to which he was clinging was moving further away from the platform - and starting to descend. Petunia held her breath when her reckless nephew suddenly stood up, almost losing his balance on the rock, and then jumped towards an erratically moving stone block two yards below him. He made it by the skin of his teeth, or so it seemed, grabbing on to the edge of the block with both hands while his legs swung back and forth until his feet found enough purchase to pull himself up.

But the block was rising - and speeding up - directly towards the platform. Harry stood once more, crouching, ready to make the jump…

… and Fleur landed on the platform, bleeding from several scratches, but victorious. She changed back to her human form as Harry made the jump, earning him the second place.

And Petunia started the breath again. She closed her eyes. Harry was safe. He was even unharmed, apart from the muscles he had to have pulled with that last jump before the final leap - she had done similar jumps in some tombs; she knew how he would feel in a few hours.

Provided she didn't kill him for worrying her so!

Hogwarts, December 7th, 1994

"Auntie?"

"Yes, Harry?" Petunia smiled when she saw her nephew standing at the door to her room. He was fidgeting - he needed her help but didn't like asking her. "How can I help you?"

He scowled, just as she had known he would. Then he sighed and entered, closing the door behind him. "Are you alone?"

"No, Dumbledore is hiding in the corner, disillusioned, to keep guard," Petunia replied.

For a moment, it looked as if Harry would go and check, then he scowled again. "That's not funny, Auntie!"

She disagreed, but she had teased her reckless nephew enough - for now. "So, what's the problem?"

"The Yule Ball," he said, sitting down on her bed.

Thanks to Hermione's need to talk during their research sessions, which unfortunately had been as fruitless as Bill's efforts, Petunia had an idea what the problem was, but she decided to play dumb. "Do you need more dancing lessons? I'm sure Sirius would love to help you."

"No." He shook his head. "I can dance just fine!" He sighed again and looked down. "I need a date."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "Didn't you plan to ask Fleur?"

He rolled his eyes at her in response. "I didn't even try asking her. You know as well as I do that she's going with Bill."

"Yes."

He lowered his head again, losing all of his often cocky attitude. "I asked Cho. Cho Chang. Ravenclaw's Seeker."

"And?"

"She turned me down. She's going with Cedric Diggory." He snarled the boy's name.

Petunia shrugged. "There are more girls at Hogwarts than her."

"Yes. I also asked Alicia, Angelina and Katie. From our Quidditch team," he added.

She couldn't resist. "You asked three girls? Those'll be some complicated dance moves!"

He huffed. "I asked them out one after the other. They all turned me down!"

"So ask another girl to the dance?"

He pushed his chin up. "And what if she turns me down as well? I have a reputation to uphold. I can't look desperate!"

Even though he did sound rather desperate. "So what about asking one of your friends?"

Harry shook his head. "That's a bad idea! Bill said that if you date a friend, the friendship usually ends with the relationship."

Bill had a lot to answer for, Petunia thought. "That sounds a little… far-fetched. Not entirely wrong, though." Teenagers were very emotional, after all. "But you can go as friends, then. To keep up appearances," she added with a slight grin. "Like Hermione and Ron, right?"

He huffed. "They're not just friends."

According to Hermione, they were, but that didn't matter right now.

Harry sighed yet again. "I don't want to raise anyone's hopes. But I guess you're right." He slowly nodded, then perked up. "I have an idea. But I'll have to coordinate with Neville! Laters, Auntie!"

Petunia shook her head as Harry dashed out of her room. Teenage boys and their fragile egos.

Hogwarts, December 25th, 1994

Petunia still didn't know why Harry had had to 'coordinate' with Neville, who was going with Ginny, but her nephew looked happy enough as he led Luna to the dance floor for their fifth dance of the evening. They were a cute couple, too, but Petunia didn't think too many noticed them. Not next to Fleur and Bill, who both had gone all out for the occasion - the couple easily outshone everyone else, even Krum and his date, a witch from Durmstrang.

In their presence, Petunia felt as if she were wearing an Invisibility Cloak instead of new robes. She clenched her teeth again as she struggled with her jealousy. Fleur had everything: beauty, youth, grace, money - the Delacours were among the oldest and richest families in Magical France - and, most importantly, magic. And she had Bill; even a blind squib could see that.

At least Bill wouldn't dissolve their partnership. Probably. Fleur wanted to work for Gringotts as well, after all.

"May I have this dance?"

She turned and saw that Black was smiling at her, holding out his hand. He looked very handsome in his expensive dress robes - she couldn't see any trace, at least not visibly, of his ordeal in Azkaban. She opened her mouth to turn him down but reconsidered. This was probably the only time in her life she'd attend a Yule Ball. And a woman was supposed to dance at a ball. And he was handsome and knew how to dance. So she smiled and accepted his hand. "It would be my pleasure."

His face lit up as his smile grew even bigger.

Hogwarts, February 25th, 1995

"They've got a thing for the classic elements," Petunia said, staring at the ice castle floating above the sea of fire inside the arena.

"Yes," Hermione said, turning her head to look at her. "First Air and Stone - which stands for Earth - and now Fire and Ice, which stands for Water. I wonder what the last task will be," she added, with a too innocent tone.

Petunia frowned at her. They were aware of all of the tasks thanks to Black, but that didn't mean hinting at their knowledge was a good idea. Sometimes, Hermione just couldn't help showing off her knowledge.

At least the girl realised her mistake - she flinched and turned her attention back to the arena. Petunia glanced at Ron, who was sitting next to Hermione. He was chatting with Luna and Ginny. There was no sign of Neville. It looked like neither girl had been interested in their Yule Ball dates as anything more than friends - and the opportunity to attend the ball as third years.

"How do you think Harry will do in this task?" Sirius asked.

Petunia shrugged. "To be honest, all I care about is that he doesn't get hurt." And between the Flame-Freezing and Cushioning Charms cast on the fire on the ground, Harry shouldn't get hurt. Unless he tried another stupid stunt. If only that goblet's contract hadn't been so powerful!

"Well… if he's half as graceful on ice as you are the dance floor, he'll easily win this task." Sirius smiled at her. "All he has to do is to reach the castle's heart before it melts. A task after my own heart," he added.

"He'll also have to avoid the steam shooting up through the castle as it melts," Petunia remarked.

"He'll have no trouble with that, nor with the frozen creatures trapped in the ice." He leaned towards her. "Although I think you wouldn't have any trouble with this task, either. You're a formidable woman."

Petunia pressed her lips together. He hadn't stopped complimenting her since the Yule Ball. It was time to set him straight so she could focus on Harry. "Look, Sirius, I know what you are trying to do."

"You do?" He smiled at her.

"Yes." She sighed. "But it's unnecessary. You are part of Harry's life - he adores you. And I won't try to take that from either of you. So you don't need to try and seduce me any more."

He recoiled as if she had head-butted him like Lockhart. "You think I'm complimenting you because of Harry?" She opened her mouth to answer, but he went on: "I would never do that to a witch! How can you think me so low as that?"

Petunia was taken aback, and so she said the first thing that came to mind - the thing that explained and dominated all of her life. "I'm just a squib."

He glared at her. "And that is worse! As if I'd… I'm not my parents." He shook his head again. "How… Really…"

He wasn't talking to her any more, she noticed. Not that she knew what to say to him. Fortunately, the second task began before he recovered his composure. Neither of them said anything while they watched Harry flit on conjured skates through the transparent, maze-like hallways of the ice castle, beating Fleur, who was trying to melt a straight passage to its heart with her fireballs, and Krum, who transfigured a path through the entire castle, but lost too much time when the floor melted away under him and he almost fell into the fire below.

Hogwarts, February 26th, 1995

Petunia found him, as expected, in Lupin's quarters. His friend looked at her, then at Sirius, and suddenly remembered an urgent question he had to pose to the Deputy Headmistress. He was gone in less than a minute, and Petunia found herself alone with Sirius.

"Hello." She nodded at him.

"Hello." No smile, just a guarded expression.

"I would like to apologise," she said, "for mistaking your intentions."

"Thank you," he replied, though stiffly.

She waited a moment, then went on: "I'm just not used to such… attention."

"I find that hard to believe," he said, rather guardedly. "You're an attractive woman. A famous one, too. One of the best in your profession."

"I'm a squib."

"You said that before. I fail to see the relevance. You weren't born into a magical family, so it's not as if you ever ran the risk of having an 'accident' to cover up their 'shame'."

She frowned at him. "I can't use magic. I need to ask a wizard whenever I need a spell cast. And how many wizards do you think would risk having squibs as children?"

He hesitated just a moment too long before answering. "Only bigots would care about that."

"Really?" She scoffed. "Would you want a child who will never be able to use magic? Who will forever have to rely on you and your help? Who will be unable to play Quidditch with you or have a play duel with you? Whose laughter at your stories will always be tinted with envy at what they can never have?" She didn't bother to hide her own bitterness. "Would you want Harry to live like that?" She shook her head. "I don't think so." She took a deep breath and nodded at him. "I apologise again for mistaking your intentions."

He managed to utter a "thank you" before she left the room.

Hogwarts, June 24th, 1995

"Glass this time," Petunia remarked when she noticed Sirius sitting down next to her.

"Yes. Inspired by a muggle toy, I think," he said.

It did look like a giant transparent Rubik's cube. And worked similarly - the champions would have to use their wands to turn the sides, opening a path to the centre by repositioning the open faces of the smaller cubes so they could pass through and, at the same time, hindering the progress of the other champions.

Of course, such a task wouldn't be bloody enough for the audience, so each cell also contained a creature that would have to be defeated. She shook her head.

"I've checked with Dumbledore; they still haven't found the saboteur. But Crouch is missing."

She turned to him. "He's missing? Do you think he's responsible?"

He shrugged. "He had the means, but the motive? He hated the Death Eaters so much, he sent his own son to Azkaban and let him die there without visiting once. But if anyone got him…"

"...then they would be aware of all the Ministry's security measures," she finished for him. "Let's go to Harry." They wouldn't be able to do anything sitting in the audience.

As they made their way to the tent housing the champions, he remarked: "You know, I've been researching the matter."

"The matter?" she glanced at him.

"Squibs and children." He was looking straight ahead. "Almost all of the recorded marriages between squibs and wizards or witches had wizard kids."

She tensed. "And how many of those were there?"

He winced. "Not too many. I found a dozen. And only one couple who had a squib son. And that might have been the result of an affair with a pureblood lover, not the squib father."

"It's not exactly compelling proof," she said after a moment. They were almost at the tent.

"I've risked more on worse odds." He turned his head and grinned, then pushed the flap open for her.

She was about to answer him, but a scream from inside the tent sent a cold shiver down her spine. Harry!

She rushed inside and found him convulsing on the floor, bleeding from his head. No, bleeding from his scar.

"Harry! Harry! I'm here!" she yelled, kneeling down next to him, pushing the other champions away. "Get a Healer! Get Dumbledore!"

She heard Sirius yell at Krum and Fleur: "Move!"

Then Harry stopped thrashing on the ground and looked straight at her. "Auntie! He's back! I saw him! He's got a new body. Voldemort's back!"