Harry arrived at Snape's office at seven fifty-nine a.m. Harry had learned from previous meetings with Snape that punctuality was essential. If Harry arrived late, Snape would criticize him for laziness, lack of attention to detail, and wasting time. If Harry arrived too early, Snape would drop biting comments about Harry being overeager and having nothing better to do than stand in hallways, waiting for more important people. So, Harry now arrived one minute early to all appointments, and knocked on Snape's door thirty seconds before the appointed meeting time.
Snape opened his door and gestured to a chair opposite his desk. "Sit, Potter."
Harry sat. Snape did not.
"What do you have to say about last night's debacle?" Snape asked.
"It really wasn't me," Harry said.
"Tell me everything."
Harry began with the announcement, and his plan to sneak out and attempt to enter the tournament. He mentioned that Moody had discovered him and sent him back to his dormitory. "And that was it," Harry said. "I didn't get my name in the Goblet, and I went to bed."
"Did you see anybody else?" Snape asked.
"No, sir." Harry shook his head. "After Mr. Crouch and Percy left, I was alone until Professor Moody arrived."
Snape was quiet for a long moment. "Do you know what Veritaserum is, Potter?"
"Truth serum?"
"The most powerful truth serum known to the wizarding world. One drop would cause a young wizard to answer even the most embarrassing of questions. It is extraordinarily difficult to brew. I, however, happen to have some on hand." Snape reached into his desk and removed a small vial of liquid. He placed it on his desktop and began to roll it back and forth under his fingers. "Do you think, Mr. Potter, that your answers would be the same if you were under the influence of Veritaserum?"
"Yes, they'll be the same," Harry said. Harry didn't like the idea of taking a truth potion, but he had brought it upon himself. If he hadn't been attempting to get his name into the Goblet, or if he hadn't gotten caught, he would probably be free from scrutiny by now.
"I wonder," Snape said. "Your escapades at the end of your last school year have caused me to re-evaluate your character."
Harry glanced at the clock on Snape's wall. His first class started in thirty minutes. "Let's get this over with," Harry said. The longer he waited, the more likely it was that he'd still be under the influence of truth serum when class started. That would be a horrible experience.
Snape continued to roll the vial of Veritaserum across his desk, coolly considering Harry's offer. Snape's face was still, and betrayed no hint of his thoughts. Finally, Snape grabbed the vial in his hand and replaced it in his desk.
"There will be no need for that, Mr. Potter. Although I am reluctant to say this aloud, I agree with Professor Moody: your name was most likely entered in the Goblet by somebody who means you harm. You understand, of course, that I needed to be sure of that fact."
Harry nodded. Even though he was innocent, he was still relieved. "Who do you think did it?"
"I am sure that the same suspect has leapt to the front of both our minds. However, the Headmaster has seen to it that rats such as Pettigrew cannot easily return to the castle." Snape tapped a finger on his desk. "We cannot assume that Pettigrew is responsible for this. Or, if he is responsible, we cannot assume that he acted alone. There may be an accomplice."
"I understand, sir. I will be careful."
"See to it that you are," Snape said. "The Headmaster has told me that you possess a certain article of clothing which allows you to move unseen through the halls of this school. Keep it close at hand."
"It already is, sir. I got in the habit last year."
"Good. If your judgment has improved since then, you might make it through the tournament alive." Snape paused. When he spoke again, his voice had changed slightly. "How do you plan to prepare for the tournament?"
"Er…" The question caught Harry off guard. "Mostly I was going to focus on survival. I hadn't gotten much farther than that."
Snape frowned. "Still finding new ways to disappoint me, I see. What, may I ask, has led you to believe that mere adequacy will be tolerated in Slytherin?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Exactly. If you plan to win the tournament, but fall short, you still have a fair chance at survival. If you plan merely to survive, and fall short, you will be dead. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." Snape leaned back in his chair. "I will not be allowed to offer you any help, Potter. Because we are in Slytherin, Crouch will undoubtedly assume that you and I will attempt to conspire and cheat. Crouch will ensure that we receive more than our fair share of scrutiny. After today, it will likely be impossible for us to meet behind closed doors until the tournament is concluded."
"What if I need help?"
"The prohibition against assisting a champion applies only to the Hogwarts staff," Snape said. "I suggest that you look elsewhere for counsel. Your classmates, for example. It would be prudent for you to form a small group of trustworthy students, which would then assist you in your tournament preparations."
Harry nodded. Even before Snape had finished speaking, Harry knew who he would ask: Draco, Tracey and Hermione.
"Moreover," Snape continued, "While I may not assist you directly with the tournament, I am still permitted to answer general questions related to magical knowledge, asked for your own edification. If the answers to those questions happen to have immediately useful applications, then so much the better."
"So, if I ask you what the first task is…"
"I will be unable to tell you."
"But if I ask you how to unlock a door?"
"Alohomora is the incantation you're looking for." Snape gave Harry a thin smile. "I am glad that we understand each other, Mr. Potter. I suggest that you begin your preparations at once. Basic defensive spells would be an excellent starting point, as you cannot compete if you are dead."
"Of course, sir."
"Do you have any questions for me?" Snape had begun straightening papers on his desk. He was clearly ready to dismiss Harry and move onto the day's work.
Harry took a deep breath. "Actually, yes. I think I know how my name was selected, and I wanted to know what you thought."
"Indeed?" Snape raised an eyebrow.
Harry nodded. "I keep coming back to my name coming out of the goblet in addition to Diggory's. Like Dumbledore said, it should have been one of us as Hogwarts champion, not both. And I kept thinking about this rumor that was going around school, that Viktor Krum was the only student from Durmstrang whose name was entered into the Goblet, so that he would be guaranteed to be chosen…"
"I had not heard this rumor," Snape said skeptically. Harry had not expected Snape to know—this was student gossip, the sort of thing thing that teachers either didn't hear or didn't pay attention to you. "What does it have to do with your predicament?"
"What if another school was created? A fourth school, with only one student: me. The Goblet just did what came naturally, and selected the best candidate from the fourth school. Thus, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, both champions."
Snape sat back in his chair. "Have you considered the full ramifications of your theory?"
"Er… no."
"Mr. Potter, any adult wizard with reasonable magical skill could have confunded the Goblet in the manner you just described. Every adult in the castle must now be considered a suspect. More troubling, however, is the cleverness of the plan. Our suspect is as cunning as he is powerful, which means that he is significantly more dangerous than we previously feared."
Harry felt his shoulders droop. The morning suddenly seemed gloomier.
"Tell nobody of your theory," Snape said. "This requires further consideration." Snape glanced at the clock. "Classes begin in fifteen minutes. You are dismissed."
Harry nodded and collected his things. He left Snape's office without saying another word.
Harry's next class was Arithmancy. Fifteen minutes wasn't enough time to go down to the Great Hall and meet his friends—as soon as Harry arrived, he would have to turn around and walk back to class. Harry decided that he would just go to class early and save a seat for Hermione.
The most direct route to Arithmancy took Harry through a secret passage on the second floor. Harry knew the passage and its password by heart, after frequently using it to sneak to the kitchens. The passage started behind a large painting of Grogg the Great, King of the Goblins. (Harry would not have known this if the painting had not been conspicuously labeled—nobody listened in History of Magic.)
"Crow," Harry whispered. The painting of Grogg slid aside, and Harry stepped into the passage. Harry had no idea why Grogg would budge over for crows, but it worked. As the painting slid shut behind him, Harry cast a quick illuminating charm to light the way.
As Harry approached the end of the passage, he heard two familiar voices: the Weasley twins. Harry occasionally bumped into the Weasleys while he was using the secret passages to move around Hogwarts. Generally, they would nod and say hello to one another. Once, however, Harry had come upon George when he was snogging Angelina Johnson. After that disaster, Harry always approached more discretely.
As Harry came around the last corner, he saw that it was just Fred and George speaking to one another. Both twins had their wands out and lit. They were bending over a piece of parchment, grumbling and pointing to various bits of writing.
"Hello, Weasleys," Harry said.
"Harry. Just who we wanted to see." George said. There was a strange tone to his voice, but Harry couldn't quite place it.
"What are you two doing here?" Harry asked.
"Running from Ravenclaws," Fred said. "Also hiding from Hufflepuffs, and concealing ourselves from the Creeveys." Fred had the same odd sound to his voice. Fred grinned at Harry, but he wasn't being funny.
"And all because of you," George said.
Harry suddenly understood the undercurrent to their words. The Weasleys were so cheerful, generally, that Harry hadn't known what their voices would sound like if they were dripping with malevolence. Harry was starting to regret taking the shortcut to class, but he didn't know why the Weasleys would be upset with him.
"What's wrong, guys?" Harry backed slightly away, and moved his wand so that it was more directly in front of him. Fred and George turned to face Harry directly. Harry still had some hope that things wouldn't turn out awful, as everybody's wand was still casting lumos. Nobody had done anything aggressive… yet.
"You're what's wrong," George said. That was rather aggressive, actually.
"Your name came out of the Goblet," Fred said.
This again? "I didn't know you were such fans of Diggory," Harry said.
"We're not," said George. "But we're not fans of liars, either."
"Little liar loves a laugh," Fred said, his voice lilting and taunting. "You lied right to our freckled faces. 'No, Fred, my name isn't in the cup. Here, take my money, George, I'm betting on myself for a lark.'"
Harry suddenly realized what had happened. With both Diggory and Harry being selected, the twins wouldn't be able to cover the payout on all the bets. If Harry alone had been selected, they would have broken even, barely. But now the twins were going to lose big.
Harry raised his left hand, palm out and fingers spread. "Guys, believe me, I didn't put my name in the Goblet."
"Who did?" George asked.
"Dumbledore and Moody and Snape think that somebody is trying to kill me."
"They're right," said George. "It's me."
"If I knew my name was going to come out, I would have bet more on myself!" Harry said desperately. "If I knew I had gotten my name in, I would have tried to make more money."
"Both your bets were winners," Fred said. "You just played the best odds."
"No, listen," Harry said quickly. "Assume the worst of me. Assume that I put my name in and lied to you. Even if you think that, you have to realize that my name came out in addition to Diggory's, not instead of Diggory's." Harry had been saying this quite a lot in the last twelve hours. It might be funny, if he weren't pleading so desperately. "If I knew that my name was coming out as the fourth champion, there would have been no reason to bet on Diggory at all—only myself, because it was guaranteed. The only way it makes sense for me to place both bets is if I didn't know that my name was coming out as a fourth champion. Which is the truth, by the way."
Fred and George glanced at one another.
"It makes sense," George said, lowering his wand.
"Or maybe it's all a cleverly planned alibi," Fred said. "The perfect cover."
"Except that I knew you couldn't cover both bets," Harry said. "Why would I make a bet that I knew wouldn't pay out?"
Finally, Fred lowered his wand, as well. "Damn. And I was hoping to let loose some frustration. And it doesn't deliver us from our present predicament." Fred turned back to George. "Let me look at the parchment again."
George raised the parchment, and he and Fred bent over it once more. Harry let out an enormous sigh of relief and slumped against the wall.
"No matter what, we lose money," George said. "We should pay off the Diggory bets first, and use the rest to make a down payment on the Potter bets. The Creeveys won't care, and Harry's an agreeable bloke."
"You guys were just threatening to beat me up!" Harry blurted.
"Were we wrong when we stopped?" Fred asked. He gave Harry a hard look out of the corner of his eye.
"We could start again," George said.
Harry took a quick step back. "Oh, no, installments are fine."
"Good," said George. "I think this is the only reasonable plan."
"It also sets us back for years!" Fred said. "There has to be something we're missing."
"There isn't," said George. "My numbers are right."
"What are you being set back from?" Harry asked.
"Opening our joke shop," the twins said in unison.
"You're raising money for a business?" Harry asked.
"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes," Fred said. It was clear who had chosen the name.
"We need funds to start research and development," said George.
"Upon graduation, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes will wow the wizarding world with a wondrous assortment of amusements and entertainments," said Fred.
"If we can find the money," George said, glancing back at the ledger.
Harry was suddenly inspired. The Weasley twins were remarkably capable when they were motivated by something they cared about. To date, however, Harry had only identified three things that the twins cared about: family, quidditch and jokes. Because their business plan involved both family and jokes, some of which would presumably be based upon quidditch, Harry felt that they had a high chance of success.
"Gentlemen," Harry said, "I have a business proposition for you."
George glanced up from the parchment. "Go on."
"I propose to set off my winnings in the Tri-Wizard pool against a one-third share of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. You will not be required to pay me for either of my bets, and you will retain a majority vote for all business actions. In exchange, I will receive one-third of net profits."
"Hold on," said George. He pulled a quill from his pocket and started scrawling on the parchment. As he calculated, George's lips moved and he mumbled under his breath. "Okay. First, your winnings will buy you a ten percent share, and ten percent of net profits. Second, we need an initial capital contribution of one hundred galleons so that we can immediately start research and development." They were the two longest sentences that Harry had ever heard George say aloud.
"Twenty percent share, twenty percent of net profits, and one hundred twenty-five galleons as an initial contribution," Harry countered.
"Deal." George stuck out his hand.
"Don't I get a say in this?" asked Fred.
"Of course," said George as he shook Harry's hand. "You get to say 'yes.'"
Fred grinned. "Splendid! Yes!" Fred reached out and shook Harry's hand, as well.
"Now that I'm a partner, how do our books look?" Harry asked.
George spun the parchment around. "With your setoff and hundred twenty-five galleons, we can cover all the bets immediately, and still have fifty galleons left over for supplies."
"Excellent. Glad to do business with you, gentlemen. Keep me apprised of any research breakthroughs." Harry looked up from the parchment. "Now, I have to get to class." Harry waved and squeezed past the redheads, walking quickly toward the end of the passage.
Harry barely made it to Arithmancy on time. Hermione gave him a look of disapproval as he slid into the seat next to her. Harry shrugged and smiled. He was barely on time, but he certainly wasn't late.
During a break in note-taking, Harry reached over to Hermione's parchment. Meet me in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom at eight o'clock, Harry wrote.
Why? Hermione wrote back.
Harry ignored her question. Tonight, Harry was going to have a very interesting discussion with his closest friends, and he certainly wasn't going to put the information down on paper.
A/N: Short-ish chapter this week. Next week's clocks in at 4k, though, so don't worry too much. One of my reviewers asked when this story would finish. I anticipate that Tri-Wizard Tournament will come to an end some time in April 2014. 36 chapters, 25 left to go, and the occasional bonus chapter should put us at a little less than six months. Afterwards, we'll have Harry Potter and the Army of Hogwarts (tentative title) and that should last us a good 10 to 12 months.