AN: Alright everybody! This story won the 'updated till completed' poll by a landslide. Once this one wraps up I'll put that poll back up once more.

A Chance Encounter

Chapter 10

-Harry-

"Are the two of your prepared?" Madame Maxime asked as she escorted him and Fleur to one of the rooms deeper in the castle for the 'Weighing of the Wands'. Why they didn't bother just doing it in the Great Hall, which was more photogenic than a regular classroom and much easier to locate, he had no idea.

"As much as we can be." Fleur nodded to the half giantess, "What all is to be done at this 'Weighing' though?"

"The intended purpose is to ensure the Wands of the various champions are in good condition." Madame Maxime lectured as they got closer to the designated classroom, "It would give enough time for a want to be repaired or replaced should the current one be deemed damaged or a bad match."

"Bad Match?" Harry asked with slightly narrowed eyes. He knew a wand could be as much a limit as a boon depending on the match and he didn't trust Dumbledore not to try and have his new wand taken away through using the tournament as a loophole.

"The wand inspector is meant to be a neutral party but as that's not exactly doable in a competition without bringing a wand maker from another country here for this one action we just have to deal with Ollivander. If he tries insisting your wands don't fit when you know they do then you can ignore him or take the issue up with the ICW if he presses."

"Thank you." Harry let out a relieved sigh, "I'm quite fond of my new wand."

"Yes, Alexandre is a phenomenal wand maker." Madame Maxime nodded pleased as they stopped a short ways away from the classroom door, "Now, along with the inspection you'll also be interviewed by reporters from all three nations. Dumbledore and Fudge had tried to make it so that only the 'Daily Prophet' of England would have press rights given the tournament being here at Hogwarts; but that ended up with the ICW presenting the ultimatum of all the nations getting press representatives or none of them."

"Why am I not surprised they'd try this?" Fleur pinched the bridge of her nose as Harry pat her back, both of them having frustration for how pathetic some politicians got with their scheming once they were sure they were untouchable.

"Because they're predictable Fleur." Harry scoffed, "Thanks for the warning. I'm guessing it's that 'Skeeter' woman I've heard about?" the miserable nod from the Beauxbatons' headmistress showed just what she thought of that reporter.

"Well…time to face the fires." Fleur grimaced as they reached for the door handle.

"Fleur, you're part Veela, you're all but fireproof. I'm worried for my own ass thank you very much." Harry gave an exaggerated huff as his blonde friend laughed, the two of them entering together, nodding to the other two Champions already waiting inside. The moment they stepped inside a loud flash and the noxious smell of smoke filled the room, wiping the smile from his face and killing Fleur's laugh as they turned towards Rita Skeeter.

"Ah, 'young love'." The woman could not have sounded more condescending if she tried, "How…'stirring'." She smirked, pointing a painted nail at her photographer who smirked back while an acid green quill wrote on its own.

"A 'quick quotes quill'?" Fleur scoffed at the green instrument, "How utterly uninspired."

"If she uses that for all of her 'articles' does that mean that the quill is the actual report and she's just the quill's manager?" Harry asked, smirking as he and Fleur pointedly walked around Skeeter to go shake hands with their fellow champions, respectful nods sent to the reporters who weren't Rita Skeeter.

"That does sound correct." Viktor huffed amused, "There is a reason such quills are banned for official journalism in Bulgaria. Too quick to write flashy lies over what is actually spoken."

"Yes, I do hope that the Prophet makes sure that I'm not misquoted thanks to Skeeter and her quill." Harry made sure his voice was audible, "It would be such a hassle to take them to court for libel."

"I'm sure father will be thrilled that you are putting his lessons to use 'arry." Fleur rolled her eyes with an amused sigh.

"Lessons?" Cedric asked as they took the seats that had been laid out for them, Ollivander not yet arrived.

"Fleur's father has been training me in politics and legal matters." Harry explained, "It's been-" the conversation was cut off as Dumbledore and the old wand maker finally arrived along with Crouch, Bagman having been standing in the corner looking gormless since before Harry arrived.

"Ah, everyone's already here." Dumbledore clapped his hands together, doing his best to have a kindly grandfather façade that fooled absolutely no one bar the brain damaged Bagman, "Excellent, then we can begin!"

"Indeed." The old wand maker stepped up, nodding to Viktor who sat at the end, "Champion Krum, if you would please."

"Of course." The Bulgarian seeker nodded, getting up and handing his wand over to Ollivander who inspected it thoroughly, a distinct glow showing from behind the man's eyes.

"Hmmm, this is a Gregorovitch creation is it not?" Ollivander mused as he inspected the wand, "A fine enough wand maker, although the styling is never quite what I would do. However…" the man trailed off, whether that was because he noted the insulted scowl from the Bulgarians or was just focused on the inspection Harry wasn't sure "Hmmm, Hornbeam and Dragon heartstring, rather thicker than one usually sees…quite rigid…ten and a quarter inches. Avis!" a wave had the wand letting out a bang like a gun before several small twittering birds appeared and flew out the open window. "Well, it seems to be in sufficiently working order." Ollivander nodded, handing the wand back to Viktor.

"Thank you." The Bulgarian's tone was clipped, clearly still upset at the implied slight to his country's wand maker.

"Next, Champion Diggory." Ollivander visibly got more excited as he waved up Cedric, "Ah, now this is one of mine, isn't it?" Ollivander wasn't even bothering to hide his favoritism as he happily inspected the wand "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine mail unicorn. Must have been…seventeen hands, nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches, made of ash, and pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition. You treat it regularly?"

"I polished it at least once a week." Cedric admitted, clearly uncomfortable at the distinct difference in treatment between him and Viktor. Ollivander merely conjured some silver smoke rings with a flourish before returning the wand.

"Champion Delacour, you next if you would." The man waved Fleur up as Harry's blonde companion over her wand.

Ollivander narrowed his eyes, twirling the wand between his fingers like a baton as it emitted several pink and gold sparks, "Hmm, nine and a half inches, inflexible, made of rosewood and containing…oh dear me."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela." Fleur nodded, eyes narrowed in subtle warning lest Ollivander let his ego show again, "one of my grandmother's."

"Yes…yes I can see that." Ollivander nodded as his upper lip curled a hair "Yes, I've never used Veela hair myself of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands. However, to each their own and I suppose if this suits you…" a flick conjured a bouquet of flowers, "It is in working order for the tournament."

"Thank you." Fleur's tone was coldly clipped as she took her wand back, the reporters from France and Bulgaria writing away so Harry was sure there would be articles about Ollivander and his treatment of foreign wands.

"Finally, Champion Potter." Ollivander looked excited once more "Another one of min-…this is not the wand I sold you." Ollivander went still as he took the wand Harry offered.

"That wand stopped working for me." Harry shrugged, "So while in France I met with Alexandre Flamell who made Fleur's wand as well." Since Ollivander hadn't seen fit to even acknowledge the name of the French wand maker when he looked over Fleur's wand.

"I see." Ollivander didn't bother to hide his displeasure as he, reluctantly, inspected the wand "Aspen and…Graphorn heartstring?"

"Yep." Harry nodded happily. His old Holly wand had stopped working after losing the Horcrux in his scar and this one worked better than the old one ever had, "I've never felt magic come easier to me since I got this wand." Let the reporters stew on that little tidbit. Ollivander's insistence on his family being the 'best wand makers in the world throughout history period' had always rubbed him the wrong way, the arrogance being more than a little reminiscent of Malfoy.

"I see." Ollivander frowned, conjuring a stream of wine from the impeccable creation, Harry's comment in front of so many witnesses helping ensure he couldn't just claim it was a bad match.

"Now, with the Weighing handled we have pictures to take!" Bagman stepped forward with a stupid happy grin as Harry resisted the urge to groan. Thanks to all the lessons from Mr. Delacour he knew that the various papers would be a good chance to lay more groundwork against Dumbledore. The Court of Public Opinion was a powerful force he should take full advantage of. Either way, he hoped it didn't take too long, Fleur had asked him to show her around Hogsmede after the Weighing ended and he was looking forward to it. Not sure why Hermione insisted it was a date though.