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Chapter 9
Time for the Triwizard!
James was enjoying his stay at Hogwarts.
He had long ago accepted that he would be getting back through the Veil anytime soon. Partially because of the Unspeakable security there, and also because he didn't fully understand the Veil enough to trust it to deposit him back to his own world if he jumped through.
He'd been doing research on the stuff in the Hogwarts Library, but his search for rare dimensional and time traveling tomes, but to no avail.
Giving up on that hope, he had resigned himself to the fact that the best he could do here was to study and train, as well as try to help his other self onto a better track.
He enjoyed staying in this convoluted universe for several reasons.
1. Pissing the hell outta Snape, while tricking him with legilimency. Really, once you prove your not a dunderhead the lessons aren't that bad. He liked to plant fake memories into the man's head. In his own universe, the potions master was much more in control of himself.
Petunia was right; Occlumency was much more than the art of organization and staying calm. He had learned how to summon his emotions at will, disorganize his normally neat structure of mind with a thought, and use powerful feelings to aid in casting, probes, and also to slip into someone's mind more fluidly.
Although when Dumbledore tried to take a peek, he did a very subtle legilimency-occlumency combination, using fake strong emotions to cover the slight blurs in his fake set of memories.
2. Pissing off Ron Weasley, by pointing out the bad factors of his character to Harry, to whom his present status in Gryffindor he owed to. The boy's face could change colors so fast that it surpassed the Weasley Twin's prank sweets.
3. Pissing off Malfoy, while trying to convert him. He liked to parry the ferret's insults towards Harry and him, while giving little comments, though not derogatory, about the foolishness of pure-blooded customs and traditions. He could see the blond ponce already beginning to think twice about saying the death eater propaganda that spewed from his mouth. The guy actually had some goodness in him, and James could tell. He hoped in the future Malfoy would change his attitude.
4. Pissing off Hermione Granger. Really, it wasn't his fault she got defensive when he invaded 'her' library. Dude, it's like she thought that she was the only Gryffindor worthy enough to roam the shelves of bookshelf land. Now they were like mortal enemies of subject browsing, and fought silent wars of reading and studying domination under the unseeing gaze of the usually attentive librarian. He was careful to temporarily disable the alarms in the Restricted Section when he was taking books from there. He had mastered the art of breaking in-and-out from his honorary uncle and godfather. He also had to make sure Granger never knew what he was really reading about, from pre-cautionary measures like notice-me-not and glamor charms, to misleading books and even obliviates. He could never know if she was reporting to Dumbledore, and from cursory legilimency scans he could tell she had a great respect for authority figures, and even more so Dumbledore, no doubt from some occasional compulsions.
Oh, and she also might have harbored some resentment towards him when he stopped her SPEW campaign, but it was worth it, as almost all the Gryffindors and house-elves had thanked him for ending her reign of terror.
5. Reconnecting with his old friends. He had already secured a tentative friendship with Neville, as he occasionally helped him on his homework, and also had already met Luna, and being the only person in the school to be able to decode her words into understandable sentences, became her first friend at Hogwarts. He still felt a pang in his heart when he thought of Aden, Lily and the other Luna, but he squashed those feelings.
6. Learning new stuff from the portraits and extensive research on demonic magic from the artifacts and reading the grimore.
So yeah, his enjoyment came mostly from pissing people off, but ah well. That didn't matter at all!
30th of October, 1994
Albus Dumbledore sat in his chair moodily as he waited for the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang entourage arrive. His desk was neat and tidy; Fawkes sat on top of his special metal perch, trilling softly. The windows were open, the fresh air outside permeating into the office.
He was thinking.
This year was his fourth test for Harry.
In his first year, Dumbledore tested his bravery, and loyalty of friends. Ron Weasley had given him the right push, doing an excellent job to make an impression on the boy. Quirrel stood no chance, and the Headmaster confirmed the existence of the blood wards. The boy also developed his unhealthy penchant for rule-breaking.
Outside Minerva was leading the students outside, awaiting the presence of the Headmaster. Albus could already feel the extensive wards warning him something was coming from the sky towards the castle. He could also feel a elemental portal opening up from the lake. He had already allowed them into the wards, but couldn't see Madame Maxime's flying horses or the famous Durmstrang ship.
Time to go out and welcome the new tenants of the castle!
In his second year, the Chamber was unexpected, but once Dumbledore had felt the object pass through the wards, he had molded Tom's poor horcrux into another one too, confirming the existence of Harry's Parseltoungue powers, as well as integrating loyalty to Dumbledore in Harry's mind. Fawkes's role in the slaying of the basilisk also confirmed that.
In third year, when Black escaped, as Dumbledore knew he would, he set the test for Harry's forgiving nature, a connection to his parents, and gratefulness to Dumbledore for letting them use the time-turner.
Now, the latest test, and possibly most dangerous and risky, was the Tri-wizard Tournament. He had learned of Barty's dark mark through the wards, and determined his purpose through legilimency. The rare art was practiced by little, so the junior death eater was susceptible.
He apparated into an empty classroom near the entrance hall, striding out confidently to meet the other future Judges. He was past the Entrance Hall now, and could see the crowd of students and his ever-faithful supporter, Minerva.
He approved of Tom's plan. Little did the dark wizard know that he was falling straight into Dumbledore's hands. As a spirit in Albania, he would be very hard to catch and destroy, even if Dumbledore found his soul-containers. If he resurrected himself, then the old man would have little trouble weakening him for Harry to strike the killing blow. After all, the prophesy stated that only Harry would kill Tom.
He had to determine the extent of Harry's survival skills, and also let Tom concentrate all his rage at the Boy-Who-Lived, instead of Dumbledore. He was confident once/if Harry escaped from Tom's portkey trap, Cornelius would lie and cover it up, testing Harry's truthfulness and upstanding loyalty to him.
And if things went right, he might be still alive till sixth year to reveal almost everything to Harry, and set him on the right path.
He had reached the front of the crowd, awaiting his new arrivals. The students had already noticed the magical disturbances from the other school's 'impressive' entrance.
But this year there was some more interesting factors that he may have to factor into his plans.
James Emerson.
The boy was a prodigy of a homeschooled child. He was orphaned after his mother died, his father distantly related to the Evans family. Looked like James Potter, resemblance to Lily with his green eyes, he looked like the 'strong' version of Harry with his broad shoulders and muscles.
The teachers all praised him for his academic excellence, and even Snape was impressed. His behavior in class was rather subdued, unusual for a growing teenage wizard like him. He never raised his hand to answer questions, but when called on, he always gave the right responses.
His neutral attitude with all students were admired, and he even convinced Granger to stop that ridiculous and biased SPEW.
Dumbledore first was afraid the child had Occlumency training, so Snape had done it for him; he always did the 'dirty work' for Albus, even though he did it reluctantly because he had to look into 'Lily's eyes'. After finding no shields after extensive probing inside the boy's head, Dumbledore had done it himself, and found good news.
His state of mind towards him shed him in a favorable light.
Dumbledore straightened his robes, and could already see Madame Maxime's carriage pulled by her gigantic horses. Overkill, thought Dumbledore.
Since Emerson was emancipated by his mother's last wishes, he lived in an apartment by Diagon, and lived by herself.
He was planning to put Harry with him, his nearest relatives. That ways with only James caring for him, he'd need more adult influence to take proper care of him, and that nurturing and helping hand would come from him.
The boy would help Harry regain confidence in the Wizarding World once he had been smeared in the newspapers as a liar and an attention-seeking brat. He would reinforce Harry's loyalty in Dumbledore, and provide blood protections for Harry.
But of course, if Dumbledore's guesses were right, then at the end of this year he shouldn't need the protections, since the ritual Tom would use would integrate Harry's blood into his own veins.
Ah! His Beauxbaton and Durmstrang counterparts have arrived!
Fleur Delcaour, Veela extraordinaire landed down to earth with her good Headmistress, haughtily assessing the Hogwarts crowd.
She saw the meddling and powerful old man that was Dumbledore. Her eyes traveled over the rest of the apprehensive students. She could see red, blond and black hair, but none of their robes or appearances could match the beautiful glamour or gracefulness of the Beauxbatons or the rugged and dark appearances of the rather mysterious Durmstrang kids.
She looked at the young children with contempt. The Hogwarts host crowd had faces of various expressions. Mostly of awe, curiousness, some contempt and caution. Many of the male students had their eyes on her, assessing her hungrily.
She grimaced in disgust. These foreigners had no restrain or shame! Typical Britians.
Victor Krum, famous professional seeker, was standing with near Karkaroff at the helm of the Durmstrang ship. He could see the looming castle that was Dumbledore's Fortress easily, and at the front gates, the Beauxbaton Delegation and the Hogwarts Welcoming Committee.
The gigantic boat glided across the lake easily, swiftly cutting a path though the water towards shore. The enchanted anchor was thrown down, and his classmates disembarked first. Victor adjusted his fur hat, and used his special talents to activate mage sight.
He could see Dumbledore's aura, his soul surrounded by powerful swirls dark and light magic emanating from his center; one's magical core, the dark curls of energy proof of his questionable past. The light probably came from his bonding with his well-known familiar, Fawkes.
His gaze rested on the other students standing behind him, tiny tendrils of black or white coming from the undereducated (in his eyes) British wizard and witches, their core not developed enough to have an adherence to any type of magic's.
Some auras caught his interest.
A sneering blond's aura had dark chains wrapped around his soul, but a large preference to the light. Victor could guess what happened, as this was a common case for children in dark families. This boy's soul and wand core (unicorn hair) had great potential for light magic, but his parents most likely did a ritual (pagan style) that with-held his powers and talent, keeping him to the dark. From the boy's appearance, he was most likely Lucius Malfoy's spawn.
Another one was a boy with jet-black raven hair, with a scar on his forehead. Harry Potter, if the descriptions were true. His aura was gray, but what was curious about him was that he had two magical cores. The gray one was bound by white chains to restrict magical power, Dumbledore's work, and another at his forehead, blacker than anything Victor had felt. The black core was locked into his scar, and the gray one dominated the body.
The gray core was abnormally large, but could only use a fraction of its power due to the binds on his magic. The black one was equally large, but older, somehow. Was it a fraction of the dark lord's power that was gifted to Potter when he was hit with the killing curse?
The last one was the most interesting and weirdest of all. Another boy standing by Potter, the boy's aura was different from the others with him.
His aura was covered with a yellow mist. The mist clung onto his aura like dust to furniture, but it obscured Victor's sight. All he could see behind that mist was faint shades of grey.
So what was this yellow mist? It wasn't coming from the core, but it was clinging onto his clothing and his skin. He never seen anything like it.
"Dumbledore!" Karkaroff called heartily as he walked up the ship slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.
The Durmstrang students walked up to the Hogwarts crowd.
"Dear old Hogwarts," his Headmaster was saying, "How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth… you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…" The quidditch player grimaced at Karkaroff's asskissing, but stepped forward nevertheless.
"It's Krum!" Great. More fans.
"Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!" Ron was saying.
"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.
"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"
"I bet Harry here could give him a run for his money!" James said.
Many people were standing on their tipy toes trying to get a better look at Krum. Colin Creevy, the crazy photographer (even though talented) was already on the scene and snapping off photographs.
James could hear the teenage fan-girls squealing and searching their bags for quill "Oh I don't believe it; I haven't got a single quill on me -"
"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"
"Really," Hermione sneered loftily, disgusted by their zealousness.
"I'm getting his autograph if I can," said Ron. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"
"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," said Harry.
"I do. Here!" James pulled one out of his moleskin pocket and tossed it to Ron. Ron quickly made a large empty space at one end of the Gryffindor table and gestured to Krum and his cronies, who were standing in the front of the hall doors, unsure where to sit. Krum saw Ron and sat in the empty spots, giving a curt thanks to Ron, who stuttered, and offered a quill and piece of parchment shakily. Apparently amused, Krum signed it and sat down by Harry and James.
When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Karkaroff sat on Dumbledore's right hand, and Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side.
Dumbledore gave his welcoming speech, and then they all sat down to eat. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were confused. Where was the food?
The food they were looking for suddenly appeared on the table, as usual, and James attacked the bouillabaisse with his hunger.
"What's that?" said Ron, pointing at what James was eating.
"Bouillabaisse," mumbled James.
"Bless you," said Ron.
The Great Hall was much more crowded than usual with the twenty-ish additional students, and Durmstrang students had removed their furry coats, revealing blood-red uniforms underneath.
After a moment of quiet and merry chattering, a feminine voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" It was Fleur!
"Er…"
Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. James rolled his eyes.
"Of course you can take it, Ms…" James scooped up a bit of shellfish stew onto his plate that he intended to eat later, and handed the rest of the soup bowl gracefully to the counter-part of his ex-girlfriend.
"Delacour. Fleur Delacour, and you are…" She seemed to be delighted to finally meet a person that was immune to her charm.
"James Emerson." She nodded, and picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before.
James was thoroughly disgusted at this red-head's antics. Hopefully Harry would wake up to how he was always trying to toady up to the famous people and impress girls.
Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.
"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry.
"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione. Was she jealous? "I don't see James or anybody else for that matter gaping at her like an idiot!"
"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!" James whacked his head instinctively, and Ron jumped back, clutching his head.
"Hey!"
"Well, she is a quarter-veela. You wouldn't be able to talk if she was a real one." James chuckled. Krum grunted.
"We have several Veelas at Durmstrang, and we build up immunity over time." He said. James decided to be brave and started up a conversation with the famous seeker.
"So, Mr. Krum, I heard that you're a good seeker." He started. Krum raised his eyebrows. Evidently he was surprised that James had just heard of him. "Well our Harry here is a good one as well…"
Victor smiled. He knew a challenge when he heard one. "I'd gladly race you, Mr. Potter." Harry wasn't sure what James had gotten him into, but he supposed a lap around the quidditch would hurt.
Would it?
Ron went to bed that night incensed.
His plans for his future were in risk for serious change.
The headmaster Dumbledore, a person he always admired, had finally turned on him.
He's always knew that it would happen. After all, the world was filled with back-stabbing 'weasels'.
He had always admired his headmaster for his ingenuity, his real character, which spoke through his actions that his demeanor, and the wit the man possessed.
When he had first come to Hogwarts, he had seen right through Dumbledore. He understood his real goals of World Domination, his plan of brain-washing the kids of the wizarding families and converting them into his own super-Quidditch players, and grand and heartless chess player that lurked underneath his kindly face that occasionally came out and gave you a glimpse of the darkness that lurked underneath.
Ron still held respect for the coot, even after he had dismissed him.
After the feast, Dumbledore had sent his new instructions via his mind arts. It detailed his plans perfectly.
Your instructions: Stay in a stable friendship with Harry. Avoid conflict with James. When Harry's name is drawn out of the Goblet, support him through the dislike and jealously.
It was simple, but brought a lot of trouble into Ron's tiny mind.
This year was important. Usually he would have no trouble doing what Dumbledore said, but his influence with Harry was weakening, due to that bloody effin' James Emerson. Harry once was Ron's last ray of hope, but now this year, due to the tri-wizard tourney, he had other chances and opportunities.
He knew from Dumbledore that Cedric Diggory, Fleur Delacour, that nice-looking Veela, and Krum, his Quidditch hero would likely be champions.
Ever since Krum had taken an interest in Harry, Ron had entertained the hopes of befriending him. This hope was a golden opportunity. An opportunity to part from his bleak future, and to get out of the shadow of Harry.
That's it! He'd show Dumbledore! No more toady to Harry!
He instantly drew up his plans for approaching the Quidditch star in his mind. He would start befriending Victor next morning, he told himself. Damn Dumbledore!
In his small mind, he never thought of what his family would say about transferring to Durmstrang.
Author's Notes: Please give out some advice in your reviews. I want some ideas on pairings, plots, people he meets, you know.
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