The Family Name: Year Four

By Elbereth in April

Chapter 5

The next morning, Artemis, Blaise, Marie, and Pansy got up early and went to examine the Goblet of Fire. "Extraordinary," Artemis voiced. "It's very old. I wonder what spell they used…"

"I'm sure you'll have it worked out soon." Blaise grinned. Other students were milling about now, too, watching to see who would put their name in. They watched as Poliakoff dropped his into the cup. He nodded at them as he left.

"That's the last of the Durmstrang lot," Zabini commented.

"Oh, it's them," Pansy complained. The three Gryffindors had just appeared.

Hermione's face lit up and she bounded over to Artemis. "What's been happening?"

"The foreigners have come and gone, but we haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Maybe they did it after we went to bed last night," Potter suggested. "You know, in case the goblet just spit their names back out again as unworthy."

"Here's your brothers, Weasley."

Fred, George, and Lee Jordan arrived on the scene. They looked suspiciously gleeful.

"Done it," Fred whispered loudly to Ron. "Just taken it."

"What?"

"The Aging Potion!"

"I don't think that will work," Hermione warned. "Dumbledore will have thought of that."

The three boys ignored her.

"Definitely won't work," Artemis agreed.

George looked at Artemis uncertainly.

"Ready?" Fred was bouncing with excitement. "I'll go first." With a deep breath, he stepped over the line.

It seemed to have worked for a moment. George let out a whoop and bounded over the line as well. But then there was a loud, sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the circle to land hard on the floor, where they sprouted long, white beards.

The couple dozen students watching all burst out laughing. Hermione and Artemis looked at each other. "Told you," they said in unison.

"As did I." They turned to see Dumbledore coming towards them. "I suggest you go see Madam Pomfrey." His eyes were twinkling.

As the twins and Lee were leaving, Millicent came to join them. "Guess what I heard in the Common Room! Warrington put his name in at dawn this morning."

The Slytherins stared at her blankly. "You're kidding."

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!" Ron exclaimed.

They all turned their stares on him. He shifted uncomfortably.

"I know that Hufflepuff Diggory put his name in," Artemis said. "Where are all the Gryffindors? The ones over 17, I mean."

Potter and Weasley shrugged. "We're going to breakfast. Coming, Hermione?"

"In a minute."

"We're going, too," Blaise told Artemis. He and Marie left.

"Here comes a Gryffindor. Don't know him." Millie indicated a large, wiry-haired youth walking over with a Sixth Year girl and a Seventh Year boy.

"That's Cormac McLaggen," Hermione supplied. "He's rather vain."

Pansy placed a hand on her chest. "An arrogant Gryffindor? Inconceivable!"

"Quiet, Parkinson," Hermione frowned at her. Pansy sneered in return.

Cormac crossed the line and dropped in his name. "There we have it, boys and girls," he laughed, putting an arm around the girl's shoulder. They sauntered off.

Next three Gryffindor girls, all on the Quidditch team, approached the goblet. A tall black girl dropped her name in, causing her friends and the rest of the Gryffindor onlookers to cheer. She gave an embarrassed smile.

"Oh, Angelina, good luck!" Hermione called.

"Thanks."

"Artemis, I better go, but do you want to study together later?" Hermione asked.

"Sure. I have to finish History of Magic and Astronomy assignments."

"I have Arithmancy and History, too. I'll see you later then." She ran off to the Great Hall.

"Aren't you tired of her yet?" Pansy burst out.

Artemis blinked. "What?"

"She's so—plain and boring."

"She's—familiar," Artemis countered. "I'm off to find Butler."

Pansy pouted. Millie took her arm. "Come on, girl. Let's go eat."

"Granger's not so great," Pansy said as Millie led her away.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Supper saw Durmstrang sitting with the Slytherins again. This time they were seated at the far side of the table with the oldest students. Viktor Krum and Anka Sofianski, however, had sat next to Goyle and Eva.

"Are you going to keep playing Quidditch after you graduate?" Eva asked Krum. "Or do you want to do something else?"

"It's interesting that you ask," Krum replied. "Most people just assume I vould never vant to do anything else."

"I vant to be a writer," Anka said. "I vant to write historical romance in the time of Grindevald. For teenagers. So they have something besides the boring History of Magic textbooks to read."

"I'd rather read yours," Millie smiled, wiping crumbs from the table with her napkin.

Zabini shrugged. "History is boring."

"It is if it's told by somebody like Binns. But it shouldn't be. The story of the Malfoys alone is fascinating."

"You would think so," Pansy giggled, hitting Draco's arm with the back of her hand.

Eva looked perturbed. "You interrupted Krum."

"I suppose you'll run for Minister," Marie said to Draco.

Draco smirked. "I thought I might teach."

Numerous mouths fell open.

Zabini leaned forward, almost dragging his tie through the remains of his treacle pudding. "You're joking, right?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

"Gonna teach History then? Or maybe—Care of Magical Creatures?" Zabini snorted.

"Potions. Or maybe—Transfiguration."

"I just don't see it," Marie said, shaking her head.

"I might like to vork vith children," said Krum.

All heads whipped back to him.

'I don't see that either,' Marie thought.

Before anyone else could comment further, however, Dumbledore stood up. "The goblet is almost ready. When the champions' names are called, they should go through into the next chamber"—he pointed to the door behind the staff table—"for their first instructions."

The Hall went completely quiet as everyone tensed in anticipation. Then the flames in the goblet turned red and sparks shot out. A pillar of flame shot into the air and a charred piece of paper fluttered out of it. Dumbledore caught it and read the first name. "Durmstrang's champion will be Viktor Krum."

Anka pounded Viktor on the back, hard. "That's you, that's you!"

"Congratulations," most everyone around him chorused, although many of the Durmstrang faces conveyed their own disappointment.

Krum gave a half-smile and a nod. "Thank you." He stood and made his way along the Hall and through the door.

The Champion from Beauxbatons was named as the veela, Fleur Delacour. The Hogwarts champion was Cedric Diggory. The whole Hufflepuff table leapt to its feet, cheering.

Pansy made a face. "A Hufflepuff."

Draco shrugged. "At least it's not Warrington."

"Excellent! Our champions are chosen," Dumbledore exclaimed, smiling and twinkling merrily. "I'm sure everyone will be supportive of them…"

But the goblet was sparking a fourth time. Once again the room fell still as Dumbledore caught the parchment and read it over. "Harry Potter."

Eyes turned automatically to the Gryffindor. Draco hissed. "Doesn't it just figure."

"No, look at him," Artemis said. "He's completely stunned. This wasn't his work."

Now whispering was filling the Hall as the professors hurriedly conferred together.

"Who else would put his name in?" Goyle asked.

"Well, he does seem to be attacked at least once a year," Artemis mused, stroking his chin. "Perhaps he was set up. This tournament hasn't been performed in years because of the death toll, remember?"

The professors finished speaking. "Harry, come up here, please," Dumbledore called.

Still looking numb, Harry went. "Go on, through the door," Dumbledore instructed. Again, he went.

Butler caught Artemis's eye, who nodded. The bodyguard followed Potter next door.

"I say you have cheated," Anka suddenly proclaimed angrily. "Hogwarts can't have two champions."

Pansy looked at Artemis. "What will happen now?"

"Your name in the cup is a binding magical contract. I imagine he will be forced to participate, whether he wants to or not."

"But he's only Fourth Year," Eva objected. "How can he compete against Seventh Years?"

"He'll have to learn."

"It's always about Potter," Draco muttered.

Crabbe patted his shoulder sympathetically.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

In the other room, Butler stood next to Potter, meeting his eyes sympathetically. "Are you OK?" he asked. Harry gave him a grateful look, but then Ludo Bagman scurried in and grabbed Harry's arm.

"We have a fourth champion," he announced to the other three teens.

"Vairy funny joke," Fleur smiled, tossing her hair.

"No, no, his name came from the goblet."

The other three students frowned. "It's a mistake," Fleur sniffed contemptuously. "'E is too young."

A number of professors and Mr. Crouch strode into the room, arguing as they went. The other headmasters demanded an explanation. Karkaroff was quite angry. "Hogwarts can't have two champions. And what happened to your Age Line?"

"It is unjust," Madame Maxime agreed, placing her hand on Fleur's shoulder.

"It's no one's fault but Potter's," Snape snarled. "He loves to break rules."

Dumbledore stepped in front of the potionsmaster. "Harry," he asked calmly, "did you put your name in the goblet?"

"No."

"Did you ask anyone to put your name in?"

"No!"

"He is lying!"

"He couldn't have crossed the Age Line," McGonagall snapped. "He isn't lying. The Headmaster believes him."

"I appeal to our judges," Karkaroff said.

Mr. Bagman looked nervous, but Crouch was his normal curt self. "The rules clearly state if your name comes out of the Goblet of Fire you must compete."

"Do you want to compete, Harry?" Butler interrupted. Was no one else going to stand up for Potter? The boy deserved to have someone on his side for once.

"No," Harry proclaimed firmly. "I don't."

"Why not?"

"No help for it now," growled a voice as Moody limped into the room. "They all have to compete. Binding magical contract. Convenient, eh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Someone is hoping this Tournament will make The Boy Who Lived the boy who doesn't."

Argument died as everyone looked at each other tensely. "We all know Moody's tendency to imagine deadly plots," Karkaroff spit out.

"Really? It would take a skilled wizard to hoodwink such a powerful magical object," Moody declared. "I'm guessing an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm so the goblet forgets there are only three schools, and submitting Potter's name under a fourth school."

Butler made careful note of this.

"Well, how this situation arose we do not know." Dumbledore gathered the room's attention again. "But we have no choice but to accept it."

A number of people still looked furious; Potter looked part-numb, part-angry, part-ill. Butler sighed. "The wizarding world needs better laws. We're not doing a very good job of protecting innocent students who don't want to enter deadly tournaments."

Another silence. Dumbledore cleared his throat, eyes no longer twinkling. "We had thought we were. Hindsight…"

Bagman took over. "Barty, why don't you give the champions their instructions?"

"The first task is designed to test your daring," Crouch explained, "so it will be a surprise. It will occur on Nov. 24 in front of the students and judges. You will be armed with only wands. You can't ask for or accept any help from anyone. You will learn about the second task when the first is over."

"Very well," Dumbledore nodded when Crouch finished. "Why don't you all go back to your dorms, then?"

"Harry," Butler whispered, putting his hand on the boy's arm, "what you need is a bodyguard." Then he raised his voice pointedly. "I'm sure no one would object if you write your godfather and Lupin and invite them to come and observe, right, Dumbledore?" He gazed politely, neutrally, but quite firmly, into the old wizard's eyes.

"Why, certainly," Dumbledore said with perhaps too much enthusiasm to be real. "Splendid idea."

And so they all left the chamber.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Potter's as surprised as anyone," Butler reported to the group of Slytherins gathered in the common room. "He didn't put his name in. He has to compete anyway, though. Moody's theory is someone wants him to have a fatal accident."

"Did they determine how it was done?" Artemis asked.

"Moody thinks a Confundus Charm and Potter's name put in—"

"Under a fourth school?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm." Artemis thought. "Not a student… it would have to be someone quite good at magic."

"Trot out the usual suspects then," Draco snarked from where he was lounging on the couch. "Moody, Karkaroff, Maxime, Crouch, maybe Bagman but I don't think he could do it."

"I think it's Dumbledore," said Pansy cheerfully. "There's got to be some reason why the prat's been attacked every year since he started coming here."

"Who cares? It's Potter," put in a Fifth Year by the fireplace. "And as none of us are saviors of the wizarding world, we're unlikely to be targets."

Artemis blinked. "But I'm curious."

Zabini looked between the two. "You both have good points."

"There's nothing we can do anyway," a friend of Pucey's little sister shrugged.

"Oh, there's always something," Draco drawled. "The question is do we want to?"

"Let the Gryffindors look after their own," Warrington declared dismissively.

"Another assumption," Artemis said. "Just because we solve the mystery doesn't mean we necessarily share the answer."

"OK, that I get," a Seventh Year nodded. "But I have NEWTs to worry about. I don't need to find other ways to waste my time."

"It's fascinating to watch the infamous Artemis Fowl at work, though," Claudia Weaver smiled.

Artemis preened a bit. Draco rolled his eyes. Zabini snorted. Pansy scowled at Claudia.

"I wouldn't recommend any of you chasing after a killer," Butler cautioned the room. "That's what the officials are for."

"When you put it that way," Derrick Bole grunted, "I have to agree with you, sir."

Butler nodded. "I'm heading for my office now." He left, and the Fourth Years gathered in a huddle.

"So what are your plans, Artemis?" Marie asked.

"Just to watch for now." After all, he had his alchemy to work on. Neither tournaments nor mysteries would stand in the way of that. He had to make his father proud.

"You always leave us out of things," Blaise complained. "We want to help this time."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Let's see. Zabini and Chevalier—watch Karkaroff. Crabbe and Bulstrode—take Bagman. Bole and Parkinson—Maxime. Malfoy and Goyle—Crouch. And I'll take Moody."

"What about Dumblefore? Should we watch him?" Pansy asked as Marie insisted, "Not alone, Artemis. Everybody partners up for safety."

"Take Granger," Goyle suggested.

"Very well," Artemis agreed. Kill two birds with one stone; he wouldn't have to take time to investigate and date.

"Make Weasley and his sister watch Dumbledore," Draco added.

Millicent nodded. "Good idea. The old man wouldn't be suspicious of them."

"Then it's settled." Artemis looked around at the group. "Just be subtle."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

As expected, Hermione owled Artemis to meet with her just before curfew. They met next to a painting of the first Ministry building.

"It's all a mess," Hermione burst out. "Harry is angry at Dumbledore for not letting him live with Sirius and now for making him compete in this, and at Ron because Ron is sure Harry put his name in himself and so now they aren't speaking…"

"Weasley is a moron," Artemis interrupted before she could rant on. "Tell him so from me. Potter was clearly shocked by what happened."

"And Dumbledore accepts Harry's word! Ron should, too!"

"Like I said: moron." That was alright, they could get by without anyone watching Dumbledore.

"What should I do?" she fretted.

Artemis looked at her. "Calm down. Breathe—better? Right. You and I need to keep an eye on Moody."

"Moody? Why Moody?"

"Someone put Potter's name in the goblet. And he makes me suspicious."

"Right. Oh dear. OK." Her face hardened with resolve. "Harry wrote to Sirius right after the Feast. When he gets here, he can help us. You have Butler watching, too?"

"Watching several people. All the headmasters and the judges, as well."

"Yes, of course. Oh, why does this always happen to Harry? Don't look at me like that, Artemis, I know why; it was a rhetorical question."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Draco sat with Hermione at a back table in the library, one where he hoped no one would see them together. He did have a reputation to uphold.

"Here's another one." Hermione looked up from the thick book she was skimming through, to make sure she had his attention. Then she read aloud, "The Jezebel Love Potion, invented by Jezebel Madcackle in 1703 in Germany. The color of weak coffee, tastes like alfalfa sprouts, smokes a teal blue…"

"It was more a sky blue," Draco interrupted.

"OK, how about the Mini-Obliviate. Removes your memories of anything that happened up to 3 minutes before you drank it. Color is chocolate, produces a light blue mist, tastes like hazelnut and pickle juice…"

"Maybe." Draco rubbed his eyes tiredly. "How many does that make?"

"Forty-seven. And we've only gone through half the books."

"There's everything in there from fertility enhancers to wart removers to potions that will make someone blind or insane. I'll never know what it was supposed to do."

Hermione eyed him carefully. "This isn't just a homework project, is it?"

Draco sighed. "Granger…"

"If you told me, I might be better able to help you figure this out."

Draco spun the ink bottle around with one finger. "…You can't tell…"

"I won't."

"Someone tried to get me to drink something, that's all. I want to know what he wanted from me."

Hermione looked gratifyingly alarmed. "Was it another Slytherin?"

"I'm not telling you who."

"It wasn't Professor Snape was it? Or Artemis?"

"No, to both."

Hermione frowned. "I really think you should ask Professor Snape then. I must say, he knows his stuff. I've gained new respect for him from this."

Draco grinned despite himself. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear that."

"Malfoy…" Hermione's mouth twitched, but she remained serious.

"No. At least, not yet. If I get desperate enough, I'll consult him, but he'd insist on knowing everything and it's better if he doesn't."

"Why?"

"It just is."

Hermione sighed. "OK. Let's keep searching."

"I can't believe you're willing to do all this just to get me to join HELP."

"Oh, it's not just you. Once you join, I can get Crabbe and Goyle, too." She smiled brightly.

Draco just shook his head, honestly not knowing what to say to that, and hoped that Salazar Slytherin would forgive him.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

A/N: I like taking Rowling's scenes and seeing how adding one person would change them. For example, Butler guaranteed that Sirius Black would be invited and Dumbledore couldn't say no.