A/N: Time to get into the Triwizard Tournament... Thanks for reading and reviewing!
67. Leap of Faith
Minerva had expressed the hope that they might at least get a quiet start to the school year since the Triwizard Tournament wouldn't begin until Halloween (of course it had to be Halloween, Minerva said, her voice heavy with sarcasm, because nothing bad had ever happened on that day).
Depending on your definition of 'quiet,' it didn't exactly work out that way. Albus was mostly concerned with an incident that involved an alleged intruder at Alastor's house on the morning of September 1st. Meanwhile Minerva was chasing after Peeves, who wreaked havoc in the kitchens and terrorised the poor house-elves in the midst of their dinner preparations. For a few hours it looked as though they wouldn't have their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher nor any actual food for the start-of-term feast that night.
But the Bloody Baron got Peeves back under some control and Arthur Weasley was kind enough to sort out the situation at Moody's house. The house-elves recovered from the shock just in time and the feast was saved. Alastor arrived a little late, but the dramatic entrance he made right in the middle of Albus' speech was probably to his liking. He gave the students (and half of the staff) the fright of their lives when he barged in to the sound of thunder and lightning. Admittedly, his face looked pretty gruesome if one wasn't used to it.
Albus tried to lighten the mood in the suddenly strangely quiet Great Hall by starting to tell a marvellous joke, but Minerva wouldn't let him. She cleared her throat very loudly. He inclined his head and quickly got on with his big Triwizard Tournament announcement that Alastor had so rudely interrupted. It made for a nice change that the students were tremendously excited about it, since no one else Albus had told about it had reacted that way.
He dismissed the students to talk enthusiastically amongst themselves and to dream of becoming the next Hogwarts champion. Then he sat back down to greet his old friend properly. "I'm glad to see you've made it here after all, Alastor. I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind about coming."
"I'm a man of my word, Dumbledore. You should bloody well know that by now," Moody growled. "Just had a little mishap this morning. Nothing you need to worry about."
Albus softly lifted a brow. For a brief moment something felt off about Alastor's aggressive, almost contemptuous tone. Then again, he had always had a rough exterior that made it exceedingly difficult for people to get close enough to see that he was truly a noble warrior at heart.
Before the silence between them could lengthen, Moody continued, "I was in a bit of a tight spot there when the Muggle authorities arrived, but Arthur Weasley helped me out of it. Good man, Arthur, real decent. Sorry about being late. But I'm here now and we've got other things to worry about than me. Just like we discussed, eh?"
Relaxing gradually, Albus reached for his goblet of wine. "Then let me officially welcome you back to Hogwarts."
Moody suddenly ripped the goblet out of his hand, sniffed at it and inspected the swirling wine with his magical eye.
"I can assure you it's not poisoned," Albus said, a cheerful note returning to his voice. Two seats down from him Severus snorted into his own goblet.
"Did you have it tested?" Moody asked suspiciously.
"No, but I already drank from it and I feel perfectly fine," Albus replied with a low chuckle.
Moody scowled at him. "Sometimes I wonder how you've managed to live this long. You realise how many enemies you've got, Albus? Constant vigilance is what I always say! You should have a house-elf drink from this first from now on."
"And what happens to the house-elf if it's actually poisoned?" Minerva chimed in from Albus' left side. "That's despicable and cruel!"
"Of course it is because that's how our enemies think! Fighting them means that we can't always be as high-minded as we'd like to be." Moody fixed his magical eye on her, looking straight through Albus, who was sitting in between the two. "Answer me this, Minerva. Who would you rather lose if it really came down to it? The only Albus Dumbledore we got or one house-elf?"
Minerva glared at Moody, leaning forward in her chair to do so. Her mouth hardened into a thin line and she refused to respond.
"That's what I thought," Moody muttered, taking Minerva's silence as confirmation.
She bristled at that, but Albus quickly held up a hand. "Mercifully, none of the food and drink at Hogwarts has ever been or will ever be used to poison anyone."
"Is that so?" Moody's magical eye moved on from Minerva to Severus next to her. "I find that curious since we have such an expert on the matter sitting at this table."
"Exactly," Severus sneered, doing a good job of hiding any discomfort he might be feeling because of the Auror's accusation. "If anyone tried to poison anyone else in this school, I would know."
There was a vicious glint in Moody's human eye. "Right, especially if you were the one doing it. Ever thought about getting rid of someone you didn't like, Snape? Ever threatened someone, eh?"
Minerva clamped a hand over her mouth to hide something that started as a guffaw and ended in a coughing fit.
Albus gently patted her on the back and said, "I think it's time to move on to a more pleasant topic of conversation."
"I thought you wanted me to keep an eye on any Death Ea…" Moody began to argue until Albus cut him off.
"What I want is for you to toast with me to working together safely and amicably."
"Fine, but you'll have to excuse me if I'm not willing to risk it." Moody pulled his old flask out of his pocket. "At least this way, one of us will be left standing by the end. Cheers!"
Albus raised his own goblet in response. Minerva and Severus chose not to join in.
He was confident, however, that they would get used to their new colleague in due time. But it might take a little longer than he had anticipated.
The next day at dinnertime Minerva burst into his office and though there was no mistaking the steely look on her face that was so sharp he surely would have cut himself had he tried to touch her, Albus rose to his feet and said pleasantly, "Hello, dear, I was just about to go to…"
"Not now!" she commanded as she rounded his desk and effectively blocked his only way out.
Really, what was he supposed to do? He sat back down and listened.
"I have supported many seemingly controversial decisions you've made when it came to hiring new teachers for this school," Minerva began to vent her frustration, "and I have never questioned you…"
"Well…" Albus interjected and then shut up again when he was drowned out by her angry voice.
"But I cannot for the life of me stand behind this! He's turning students into rodents and bouncing them off the walls! That would be a crime even if they were adults who could hope to defend themselves. I don't know what kind of person would do such a heinous thing to a child! And not just any child, no, it had to be Draco Malfoy, which means that Lucius will be back here – again – before the day is out and you'll have to clean up that mess – again! As if we needed another reason to put Malfoy on the warpath. For someone who keeps talking about watching out for our enemies he doesn't seem to think twice about handing them fresh ammunition!"
At this point Minerva ran out of air and had to pause to take a breath. Albus used that opportunity to ask drily, "I assume we're talking about Alastor?"
"No, we're talking about Father Christmas. Of course we're talking about Mad-Eye!" she shot back, her voice cracking like a whip. "Even his name makes it pretty clear that he can't be left alone with unsuspecting students!"
There was a sharp knock on the door before the very person who had provoked Minerva's wrath entered the office. "Had to finish dealing with Malfoy and Snape first, but then I came as quickly as I could. I figured you'd run to the headmaster to complain about me and conveniently forget to mention the rest of the story," Moody said as he hobbled closer.
"There's more? By all means, do tell," Albus said, his own voice gaining an edge.
"Malfoy, who clearly takes after his father in every way – you should really keep a close eye on that boy –, had instigated an ugly little scene. Made fun of the Weasleys and that nasty article in the Daily Prophet about Arthur helping me out yesterday. So you see, I was already sort of involved in the whole thing," Moody explained grudgingly. "Potter tried to be the bigger man – something I'm sure he learned from you lot," he scowled at Albus and Minerva as though they were the ones standing accused of misbehaving, "and turned his back on Malfoy. The little coward drew his wand and he would have cursed Potter's head off if I hadn't stepped in."
"No one is denying that Malfoy's behaviour was reprehensible and required the intervention of a teacher," Minerva jumped back in. "But that doesn't give you the right to…"
"… to save Potter from a world of pain?" Moody finished her sentence for her. "Had I done it your way, Potter would be in the hospital wing now. How would giving Malfoy detention have helped him then?"
"It would have discouraged Malfoy from doing something like that again!"
"Discouraged?" Moody let out a bellow of laughter. "Do you actually believe in all of this idealistic mumbo jumbo?"
"That's enough," Albus said quietly, but his words rang with just enough authority that both Alastor and Minerva fell silent. He turned towards the latter. "Minerva, you must be starving after teaching all day. Will you please go to dinner? One of us at least should get something to eat."
She met his gaze, still upset and ready to argue, but he patiently stared her down. Eventually, she left in a huff. He hoped that getting something to eat would make her anger subside. If not, he was probably in for a rather lonely evening.
For now, Albus focused on Alastor. "You remember the conversation we had about not treating the students like common criminals?" he asked him pointedly.
Moody blinked. "Might have slipped my mind. I just figured you'd want Potter to be protected."
"I am, of course, very glad that Harry is fine. But Minerva is right. You cannot – under no circumstances whatsoever – deliberately harm a student. If you need to protect someone, I'm entirely confident that you can use your considerable skills to do so without hurting anyone any further."
Albus thought he had left no room for interpretation, but Moody asked, "Is that only outside of class or…?"
"Alastor!" Albus rarely snapped at people, but he had this odd feeling again. A warning in the back of his mind.
Moody eyed him warily and then took a quick step forward. "You asked me to help you protect the school and I will if you let me. But what you really need to do is teach the students how to protect themselves because they clearly don't know the first thing about what's waiting for them out there. So I was thinking I should show them some curses, starting with the obvious ones."
"By obvious I assume you mean Unforgivable?" Albus asked, frowning.
"I wouldn't use them on the students, of course. Although the Imperius Curse… could be useful to know how it feels. Potter might have survived the Killing Curse once, but you know as well as I do that he doesn't stand a chance of doing that again next time. Unless we show him. Get him prepared. Him and all the rest of them."
Albus let his gaze and his thoughts roam. What Alastor was suggesting wasn't on any curriculum the Ministry would approve of, that much was for certain. It was clear why Alastor and the Ministry had parted ways. But there were also legitimate reasons for Alastor's sometimes outlandish behaviour. Yes, he had lived the fight for so long that he had forgotten how to exist in times of peace. But the sad truth was that they weren't at peace right now. Not really and probably not for much longer. Which made Alastor's experience and his unique perspective on things invaluable to Albus – and to Harry.
"All right. You can teach the students everything you know inside the classroom. But outside of class you will not point your wand at a student again." Albus didn't need to say 'Or else' because he never made idle threats. Alastor understood that and he approved.
"I'll prepare a few things for class then," he said on his way out of the office. "Sorry about the misunderstanding. You know there's nothing I hate more than a Death Eater who escapes punishment."
Albus suppressed a sigh. "Draco Malfoy is no Death Eater."
Moody shrugged. "Give it time, Albus. Give it time."
In the days leading up to Halloween Minerva spent her time admonishing the students for any kind of misbehaviour, no matter how small, and she worked with Filius and Filch to make sure the castle was as polished and decorated as it could possibly be. She knew that Hogwarts was perfectly magnificent, magical and mind-blowing all on its own, but she didn't want to leave anything to chance.
When the contingents from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrived, it was Minerva who felt a little underwhelmed. Maxime's horse-drawn carriage and Karkaroff's ship were nice enough to look at. But their French guests all looked as miserable as though they had been abandoned on the side of the road in the dead of winter. Karkaroff fussed over a surprisingly duck-footed Viktor Krum and ignored everyone else, which explained the sullen expressions on the faces of the other Durmstrang students.
Deep down Minerva knew that she was being unkind because Maxime's and Karkaroff's arrival – as well as the addition of Barty Crouch Sr. and Ludo Bagman – meant that she had to give up her seat at the High Table. It had belonged to her ever since Albus had become headmaster. All things considered, not sitting by Albus' side for the duration of the Tournament shouldn't have mattered to her. It wasn't as though she couldn't talk to him outside of mealtimes. But she had become used to the way he sometimes slipped a lump of sugar into her tea when he felt she needed a pick-me-up or how his fingers would accidentally or not so accidentally touch her to communicate whatever he was thinking at the moment, even if most of the time it was just a simple 'I love you.'
Instead, Minerva had to watch out for Bagman, who liked to gesticulate so enthusiastically when he talked that he elbowed her in the chest, hitting her right breast, a part of her body that not even Albus was brazen enough to touch in public. Bagman paused long enough to go a little red in the face before he continued talking. Suddenly the end of the Tournament in June seemed a long way off.
Especially since Albus had only just officially opened it by revealing the Goblet of Fire. Now they had to get through 24 hours of anticipation, waiting to find out who would be the Hogwarts champion.
"It has to be a Gryffindor," Minerva mused later that night. She was sitting on the settee in the headmaster's residence. Her outstretched legs rested on Albus' lap as he was giving her a foot rub. She had complained about Bagman groping her by accident and this had been Albus' response. Honestly, it made the whole thing well worth it. "You can't possibly get through the Tournament without courage and daring."
"True, but I think some cleverness and cunning wouldn't hurt either," Albus replied thoughtfully. "And a lot of heart."
"I'll allow the first and last one, but please don't ruin this moment by suggesting we could have a Slytherin champion," Minerva countered, tipping her head back. She didn't even want to think about that possibility.
"Are you quite sure you want them to be from Gryffindor? You'd have to support them without actually helping. I know you. You'd suffer every injury and every misstep like it was your own," Albus argued.
"I'm bound to feel that way no matter what because it's still a Hogwarts student we're talking about. So it might just as well be a Gryffindor."
A smile on his lips, Albus continued to knead her feet with just the right amount of gentle pressure. "All right, who'd you have in mind then?"
"I heard that Angelina Johnson is thinking about putting her name in." Minerva had her eyes half closed, but she could still see the laughter on Albus' face. "Something wrong with that? She turned seventeen last week."
"And she's not only a Gryffindor but also a clever, young woman and a Quidditch player. Sometimes you're very predictable."
Minerva lifted her left foot to give Albus a little nudge. "You know, I just realised that foot rubs don't actually require talking."
Albus chuckled. "And here I thought you missed me since we didn't get to talk at all during the feast."
"Mm, and whose fault is that?" Minerva muttered and regretted it instantly when Albus' hands paused.
"You know I can't ignore our guests."
She opened her eyes fully and said earnestly, "I do. We can't have them wandering around the school on their own, especially not Karkaroff. I'm glad he's not sleeping in the castle and that Moody is keeping an eye on him."
"Oh?" Albus raised a brow. "I thought you weren't happy with Alastor at all."
"Not if he's torturing students. I don't particularly care what he does to Karkaroff. He can turn him into a ferret any time he wants."
"I don't think that would be in the spirit of international cooperation we want to achieve," Albus said, sounding torn between exasperation and amusement.
Minerva attempted to push him towards the latter. "I thought we wanted to win and show our 'guests' that there is no greater wizarding school with better leadership than Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore."
"Oh my, have you changed your mind about both Alastor Moody and the Triwizard Tournament all in one evening?" Albus asked, his tone as light as she had hoped it would be. "How's that even possible?"
"Must be your magical touch." She wiggled her toes and they both laughed.
In truth, Minerva was simply trying to distract them. All this waiting, wondering and worrying was eating her alive.
And that was only before the Goblet of Fire was ready to announce his decision.
The Durmstrang and Beauxbatons champions didn't come as much of a surprise. Apparently, the Goblet of Fire appreciated Quidditch and beauty just like the rest of the wizarding world. When it was time for the Hogwarts champion, the tension in the air was almost suffocating. As soon as Albus had finally read out the name, the Great Hall erupted in deafening cheers. Pomona jumped to her feet and shouted and clapped madly, along with the entire Hufflepuff table. She was so happy that she was close to bursting into tears.
Minerva caught the eyes of Severus and Filius. They all seemed to think the same thing. A Hufflepuff student had triumphed over all the other candidates. That was unexpected. But then they all joined in the applause. And Minerva truly meant it. Cedric Diggory was a good student, fairly talented at Transfiguration, and never disrespectful towards a teacher or his classmates. He was a worthy Hogwarts champion.
Albus sounded pleased as well. Until the Goblet of Fire suddenly spit out another name.
A fourth name.
In that moment Minerva hated the distance between her and Albus even more. He moved as though in a trance when he reached out to read the name on the little piece of parchment. His eyes were cold and hard and his voice seemingly devoid of emotion. But Minerva's trained ears detected an undercurrent of pain that was impossible to miss. Something had just gone disastrously wrong. Worse than they could have ever imagined.
"Harry Potter."
Her stomach bottomed out as a terrible and overwhelming fear sliced through her. No one else in the Great Hall moved a muscle. Minerva shot out of her seat as fast as Pomona had done – but with the opposite of her joy and intention. She ran past the chairs that separated her from Albus and then whisper-yelled into his ear.
"No! He can't compete, Albus. He's too young. He's going to get himself killed for real this time. We have to put a stop to this! This is madness. I told you it would be."
She was only telling him what he already knew and he nodded without saying anything to her in response. He urged Harry to get up and join the other champions. The boy hadn't moved and Minerva couldn't blame him. But he didn't have a choice.
Potter walked out of the Great Hall and after Albus had quickly dismissed the rest of the students, he followed him. And so did Karkaroff, Maxime, Crouch, Bagman and Snape. Minerva brought up the rear.
The scene that enfolded was complete and utter mayhem. Every person in the room had their own agenda. Karkaroff and Maxime were only concerned with winning the Tournament and felt duped. Bagman thought of nothing but the entertainment value if a famous boy like Harry Potter were to participate while Crouch looked as though he had a headache and just wanted to get this over with one way or another. Minerva did what she always did. She fought tooth and nail to defend Albus and Potter. Somebody had to. Albus was too magnanimous and Potter too shocked to speak up for himself. Severus, as per usual, did just the opposite. Well, he did join her in defending Albus, but only by pinning all the blame on Potter, which was no defence at all. None that Albus would allow to stand. In a bizarre turn of events, it was Moody who butted in and sounded like the voice of reason for once.
In the end, it was decided that the rules were clear and that there was a binding magical contract no one could break, even though the only thing they agreed on was that they were all decidedly unhappy about this. With the exception of Bagman perhaps.
Karkaroff and Maxime exited the room with their champions, still pretending that they were the ones who had been wronged here. Potter and Diggory left more quietly. Albus tried to coax Crouch into staying and having a drink with him. But he was clearly not feeling like himself tonight (which was probably the reason for Albus' invitation) and declined right away. Bagman was the only one who was enthusiastic about getting that drink, though technically Albus hadn't offered it to him. Again, Moody proved useful when he escorted all of their guests out of the room.
It was awfully quiet once only Albus, Minerva and Severus were left. It was the latter who spoke first, "I don't know why everyone is acting so surprised. This is just Potter getting his share of the glory all over again."
"Glory?" Minerva couldn't believe he had just said that. "Students have DIED in this Tournament! The Ministry can talk all they want about having made it safer this year. The new age rule was broken before the Tournament even started, so who's to say that any of the other measures they've taken are going to work? Potter is a young boy and they're throwing him to the wolves. Do you really think that's glorious?" She had probably never been closer to strangling Snape than right this second.
Perhaps he noticed that or maybe he felt a twinge of... something. He looked and sounded not exactly sympathetic but at least contemplative when he said, "It does pose the question how we're supposed to get Potter through all three tasks in one piece."
This was directed at Albus. "We can't help him. You heard the rules," he replied quietly.
Minerva whirled around to him. "You can't be serious, Albus!"
"Are you saying that you of all people want us to cheat?" Albus asked in surprise while Severus seemed almost impressed.
"Well, no..." Minerva said hesitantly, wrestling with her need to protect Potter and weighing that against her sense of right and wrong. "But why should we play by the rules when nobody else is?"
"How do you mean?"
"Mad-Eye is right, isn't he? Karkaroff and Madame Maxime will do whatever they can to win and now someone put Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire – when we know that we have a Death Eater in the castle." Minerva thought it was very gracious of her that she didn't include Severus in that statement.
Albus was too lost in thought to pay attention to that. "You heard Igor. He considers this to be a great injustice. I don't think he did it, though I won't dismiss anything out of hand at this point." His eyes trained on Severus.
He gave a grudging nod. "I'll try to talk to him, but I can't be too obvious about it. He doesn't trust me any more than he trusts anyone else. He's always been a coward that way."
"Another reason why he's an unlikely candidate to be acting on Voldemort's behalf," Albus added.
"But you do think that You-Know-Who is behind this?" Minerva pressed, swallowing a lump in her throat.
"I can't say if he was directly involved. But it would be a remarkable coincidence if Voldemort's return to Britain and Harry being forced into a notoriously dangerous competition by an unknown perpetrator were entirely unrelated. And I don't believe in coincidences."
Minerva glanced at Severus. She wasn't sure how much he knew about what had happened at the end of last term. "What about Pettigrew? Could he have got inside the castle the way Sirius Black did?"
Albus shook his head. "If my guess that Pettigrew has returned to Voldemort's side is correct, I'd be greatly surprised if Voldemort had sent him away again so soon. I don't think he can spare him. I don't think he's strong enough yet."
That little word 'yet' reverberated off the walls like a well aimed curse and Minerva felt the silly urge to duck.
Moody stuck his head into the room. "Bagman's asking about that nightcap. He badgered Crouch into staying for a bit longer after all."
Albus heaved a sigh and signalled Moody that he was coming.
Minerva quickly excused herself because she couldn't stand talking about this anymore. But not talking about it didn't make it any better either. She tried to keep herself busy, only to accept that nothing worked.
Eventually she sought the soothing company of Fawkes and noticed that his water dish was almost empty. She cleaned and refilled it, but when she was about to put it back, her hands were shaking so badly that she spilled water everywhere. Annoyed with herself, she pointed her wand at the water stains – and made not only them but also the fresh water in Fawkes' dish disappear again like a skittish young witch who wasn't in full control of her magic.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Minerva muttered.
Before she could attempt to start all over again, Albus' arms closed around her from behind. She could feel his breath brush against her neck as he pried her wand from her trembling fingers. Minerva let go, but instead of simply melting into him, she turned around in his arms to look at him truly. Once she did, she saw that he wasn't actually as calm as his touch had suggested. He was only putting on a brave face. For her. For Harry. And everyone else.
Minerva rested her forehead against his, bringing their faces so close to one another that they were now breathing the same air, the same fear and frustration. Albus' hands dropped to her waist. Fawkes began to sing a soft melody while they just stood there, breathing together. Fawkes' song slowly started to swell until Minerva felt as though they were breathing some of that in, too.
In with the music. Out with the melancholy.
In with the phoenix fire. Out with the fear.
"I think the first task might just be good for Harry," Albus whispered without moving away from her or breaking their connection. Fawkes fell silent to listen as well. "You heard what Barty said. It's all about courage – courage in the face of the unknown – and Harry has that in spades."
"I know he does. I just wish he also had at least six years of magical education," Minerva murmured.
"But isn't that what Gryffindors excel at?" Albus mused. "To make up for something they don't have with sheer determination, nerve and…"
"… a little blind faith," she supplied.
Albus' laugh was brittle, but it was there. "Exactly." He tilted his head back and lifted his hands to the sides of her face. "Will you have faith with me?"
Her gaze darted from Albus to Fawkes, who cocked his own head in question. Minerva took another deep breath. In with the fire, in with the hope.
In with the love.
"You know I will."