Thanks a lot to everyone who left a review ^^ Since there weren't really many opinions on Voldemort's POV though, I'll keep it mainly from Harry's with here and there a change of pace for those who liked it :)
Enjoy!
Chapter 32 – Unexpected Surprises
Running forwards, Harry quickly left the bright lights behind, the hedges oddly muting all sounds as soon as he entered. Since Cedric had gone right, he turned to the left, not feeling like constantly running behind the other. Who knew, perhaps this way was a shortcut.
Making use of the locator spell that he'd already learnt to find the mermaid village for the second task, he tried to deduce where the centre of the maze was. He combined it with the Four-Point spell Hermione had shown him to use in the dragon task to know where north was. Knowing that he was supposed to go northwest, he kept combining the spells to find a quick way to come closer to his goal. That was, until he came across the first obstacle. He'd been so concentrated on the two spells that he didn't notice the chill until it was nearly too late. Harry screamed in surprise as crusted, slimy hands appeared in his vision, and jumped back just in time, staring at the hooded face of a Dementor.
''Expecto... Expecto-'' he coughed, but the dread had already set in. Harry had let it come too close, too sudden, and now was unable to fire the protective charm instantaneously. Stumbling back to create distance between him and the creature, Harry clutched his wand tightly while trying to come up with a suitable memory. He was a bit more hesitant about doing so now he knew that the happiness related to those memories would have to be given up to dispel the foul being. In that moment of hesitation, Harry suddenly realised something else when the Dementor was suspiciously slow and looked almost indecisive. With renewed strength, Harry pointed his wand again, shouting: ''Riddikulus!''
Of course they wouldn't have let an actual Dementor in here, he berated himself afterwards. Any other creature that would leave physical damage could probably be expected, but not one that could potentially suck out the soul of one of the Champions when left unsupervised, certainly not with how disapproving Dumbledore had been about the Dementors being in Hogwarts last year. For a fleeting moment, Harry actually wished that it had been a real Dementor: at least the Patronus Charm was a dark spell that he could safely cast without anyone thinking worse of him for it, whilst still fulfilling Voldemort's conditions for this Tournament. Now he would have to come up with something else... preferably nothing too obvious.
Harry continued down the long, dark path, getting lost a few times in the unpredictable twists and turns that convinced him that the towering hedges were actually moving whenever he wasn't looking. In the corner of his eyes, he saw rustling leaves, shadows of whipping branches… Even with both locator spells at hand, he too often got stuck in dead-ends. On the way, he encountered a strange fog that turned his world upside down and one of Hagrid's last blast-ended Skrewts. Although he could have used a slew of dark curses on this thing, Harry really tried to only stun the creature, for he knew that Hagrid would be absolutely devastated if one of his babies died in here. Thus, he sprinted away as soon as he landed a good hit and hoped it wouldn't throw the spell off too soon. For all his supposed bravery, the Gryffindor wasn't looking forward to having a mad scorpion-like creature pursuing him.
As night fell, the shadows grew longer and the air turned chilly even for June. Leaves rustled aggressively all around, making it hard to concentrate on possible enemies lurking around corners, or on his locator spells. Somehow, Harry still had the feeling that he was running around in circles. He was absolutely certain of that something was wrong when he suddenly found himself surrounded by hedges on all four sides with no opening in sight that he had come from. Trying to slash through the walls of green only made thorny vines appear and snap at his ankles.
''Don't panic,'' he whispered. ''Anything is possible.'' That was one thing he'd certainly learned at Riddle manor: with magic, anything could happen. Fortunately meaning that anything could be fixed too. Trying to keep a cool head, Harry tried to come up with explanations. Was the hedge really sentient somehow and had it closed him in? In that case, there should be a method of getting through the shrubbery, which didn't make sense. On one hand, it wouldn't be much of a labyrinth if they could blast their way through walls and on the other, the maze being literally allowed to trap the Champions inside would also be very odd since it was supposed to be more of a puzzle to solve, so there had to be a different explanation. Herbology was probably out then. Transfiguration? Perhaps one of these walls had only been conjured and was not part of the actual labyrinth? Harry studied the leaves, tried a few more attacks, but did not notice any difference in behaviour so that was probably out. A spell came to mind that he perhaps could use to find out if the plants were all part of the same organism... he could only hope that there was no place for a monitoring spell in this square yard he was trapped in.
Risking a couple of scratches, Harry seized a few of the struggling, thorny vines, wincing as they tried to rip his palm open. ''Adiuvantibus mors voluntaria!'' he panted, pointing his wand at the wriggling plants clasped between his fingers, repeating the spell a few times until finally, the vines started to blacken, a stain which spread through the branches of the walls around him. Or three of the walls, one part of hedge remained suspiciously unaffected by his suicide spell. Releasing the crumbling twigs, he looked at it once more, trying to study what was so different. Then, a shimmer revealed it: it had been a highly advanced illusion this entire time, his own mind tricking him into believing the path before him was blocked. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped through it, not feeling a thing and finding himself in another long corridor.
The teen cursed about the time he must have lost when trying to figure out that trap and ran as fast as possible after figuring out which way to go, slipping on the muddy grass a couple of times. He only slowed down when hearing noises that sounded like a fight was happening around the next corner. Wary, he approached the end and looked to the right, retreating when a spell whizzed past his head. ''Go the other vay!'' he heard Krum shout.
''And be forced to make a detour?'' Cedric answered. ''Never. Stupefy!'' Harry seriously wished he had his invisibility cloak now so he could have snuck past the others who were obviously caught in a duel. From the exchange, the teen gathered that Cedric must have caught up with Krum here at one point but could not get past the Bulgarian. It was logical that Krum would try to stop Cedric from entering this path when knowing it was the fastest way to their goal from here. Harry debated on what to do. His first instinct was to join the duel, possibly teaming up with Cedric for a bit for Hogwarts, then he discarded the idea. Two against one would not be an honourable fight, and neither could he just barge into someone else's duel. So that left either trying to get past or taking another way. While it would be too time-consuming for Cedric to head back now and let Krum go on, it was a viable option for Harry if the other two Champions were stuck here for a while, fighting each other. Then again, he would also feel bad for using such an underhanded tactic, acting as the third dog that ran off with the bone... More spells lit up the narrow, foggy way while Harry tried to make up his mind.
So sneaking around was out, and so was interfering in the duel of other people. That only left one thing he could do that would not hurt his pride: being clever enough to find a way through, either unnoticed or not. He was no match for either of them, so if they saw him and had time to react, Harry knew he would be out of the running. Considering that he would need to run nearly twenty yards before even reaching the two of them, there was no way that he would be out of the viewing range of both unless they were turned with their backs to him. He wished he were an Animagus... preferably something small or flying. Or that he could turn himself invisible like Dumbledore. Wracking his brain, he wondered if there was any spell that he'd been taught, either in class or by Barty, that could help him in this situation. Surely, he knew of many possibilities: from becoming one with the shadows, to completely disguising himself, yet none that he himself could perform.
Shadows... a thought suddenly came to him. He'd been so startled by the Dementor-Boggart, so why would the others not be? Nervously, Harry rolled his wand between his hands. In Voldemort's book, the one that classified spells, he'd read about this one and found it rather interesting. The sacrifice was also not too high in his opinion either. The only problem he had was with the possibility of people watching. Hopefully they would be concentrated more on looking at the duel between Viktor and Cedric if any monitoring spells were around. Crouching down, Harry tried to recall the spell. It hadn't been a very difficult one, using only words that he had already known from other spells, he only hoped that he placed them in the correct order. According to Voldemort's detailed description, casting it felt much like a couple of other spells that Barty had taught him before, so he concentrated on that and on his urge to get through. '' Umbra Vicem Hominum,'' he whispered, pointing the wand at the ground, stabbing it into his own shadow, which rippled and darkened. Before Harry's eyes, a black blur shot over the ground in the direction he wanted it to, then rose up from the ground at the other end of the pathway, a gigantic black mass that stretched out its hand.
The two fighting Champions ceased their duel to stare at the thing, an opportunity which Harry used to cross the distance to their backs. With a wave of his wand, the shadow creature moved forwards, temporarily blinding the others, which Harry used to charge through as fast as he could before his spell would disappear. As he rounded another corner, he skidded to a halt to catch his breath, hoping that Krum and Cedric would be too busy trying to keep each other from continuing to go on ahead together to figure out what that had been about. If he was lucky, they'd think that the apparition was another trick of the maze. He turned out to be correct when the spellfire continued, this time behind him. Releasing a breath and smiling, Harry continued, for the first time feeling like he could actually win this thing. It hadn't even been his intention. The Gryffindor had been too busy trying to find spells to show that would help him stay alive and keep Voldemort happy at the same time. Actually reaching the end? And as the first person? He hadn't even dreamt about that, yet now here he was, leaving behind two other Champions who didn't even know he'd gotten past them.
''Halt!''
Harry froze, looking up with fear as a thunderous voice sounded, his heart stuttering. Lost in thoughts, he'd almost ran head-first into a gigantic being. Casting a lumos, hoping that having been spoken to meant that he was safe for now, Harry rose up his wand to illuminate the person in front of him. Or rather, the being, for while it was a woman's face with beautiful almond eyes and wavy hair looking down on him, the body was that of a massive lion with razor-sharp claws and all. A Sphinx. Just when he thought they were done with big monsters after Dragons, the Giant Squid and Skrewts.
''So...'' Harry started. ''You won't let me pass will you? It's rather important to me.''
Lips revealed long fangs as she smiled deviously. ''It is not that simple, though you need not fight me. Answer my riddle and I will let you through.''
''And if I can't?''
''Then you can either turn back without answering or be eaten alive when you get it wrong,'' she commented, lifting a paw to inspect her own claws nonchalantly. Harry blinked, never having met a being that acted this human. -Especially considering that he could recall from his textbooks that Sphinxes were even classified as Beasts due to their violent nature- She sounded almost reasonable.
''I guess I can try,'' he commented, feeling a tad nervous. ''So if I don't answer you will not attack me at all?'' he asked to be sure. If that was the case, there was no harm in listening to it.
''That's the idea, although the shortest way to your goal lies past me,'' she spoke, confirming Harry's fears. If he turned back, Cedric and Viktor would also be waiting there still... and if Cedric would reach the Sphinx it was over. Harry knew for a fact that the Ravenclaw common room had a new riddle every day and Cho Chang often discussed them with her boyfriend for fun. She'd even kept doing so at the parties... if only Harry had listened a bit more closely.
''Okay,'' he finally spoke, not wanting to lose more time. ''What is the riddle?''
She stretched herself, yawned and got in position to recite. After a last clearing of her throat, the Sphinx spoke: ''It ate everything that came, everything that will and still it will never get its fill.''
Harry blinked. ''That's it?''
''That's it,'' she shrugged, rolling her shoulders. ''I did have a much longer one alluding to the next challenge behind me, but it would be boring to give each of you humans the same one to solve. Besides, where would the drama be if you all got stuck here for fifteen minutes?''
''Wait, what do you mean, you had another one?'' Harry exclaimed. ''Someone already passed you?''
''A few minutes ago. Now, answer it or retreat.''
Harry grasped at his hair. Damn it, Fleur had already been here? Did he even stand a chance then? Since he hadn't seen her, she must have come from a different direction... the path split off to the other side too. That also meant that even from there, the quickest way to the centre was through here. Retreating would be the same as giving up. Even if Harry didn't answer correctly, fighting the Sphinx might be easier than finding a different way in. ''Fine,'' he said, rubbing his forehead. Why did his scar not have an useful magical power like knowing the answer to every question instead of binding him to a certain Dark Lord? ''Can I hear it once more?'' Raising an amused eyebrow, the Sphinx repeated the line and Harry muttered it to himself. Even if Fleur had already gotten past, the Sphinx had said something about another challenge ahead, so hopefully that would keep her longer than it took him to solve this. Giving up was not an option: not because he wanted to win so badly, but because if there was one thing he'd learnt from Quidditch, it was that people who gave up when they thought they were defeated always brought down the entire team. It killed both their own fun and lessened the feel of victory for the winners, because who wanted to say they won by the other team just leaving? No, Harry would give it his all and keep pushing forward.
At least it was only a single sentence he had to decipher. Surely, this couldn't be this hard, considering it was one of her backup riddles? ''It ate everything that came...'' he muttered. ''So I am searching for the answer what 'it' is.'' He glanced up quickly to the Sphinx, who looked bored and sat down. An image flittered through his mind of a children book he'd sometimes read at elementary school of a caterpillar that kept eating more and more and was never filled. No, surely a magical creature wouldn't be referring to some Muggle children book. Maybe he was thinking too literally of eating. ''Everything that will... so it ate everything in history and will eat everything in the future and still keeps eating?''
''Hurry a bit will you?'' she sighed, peering past Harry. ''It looks like a third human is coming and I do not want to have a queue here.''
''Damn. Fine. Erhm, history... future. Present? No, the present doesn't eat anything itself. Time! The answer is time!'' he exclaimed, finally finding an answer that fit.
''Actually, both those answers would have been right,'' she mused, holding her head to the side in a way that reminded Harry of a curious cat. ''While time eats everything that was and will be without getting full, you are also correct in that the present ate the past to become it and will eat the future too to become it without ever stopping to do so.'' She sprang up. ''For not only solving my riddle but giving me new insight in it, I shall give you five minutes before letting the next one through even if he solves my next riddle sooner. Use it wisely.''
''Thanks!'' Harry said in relief. ''What's your name?''
The Sphinx blinked at him, taken aback. ''Neith, though I fail to see how that is relevant, wizard. Go.''
''Right. I'm Harry. Bye!'' he shouted, running past as she moved out of the way. It couldn't be much further now, right? So where was Fleur?
A shriek pierced the night and Harry halted at the sight before him when he arrived at the centre. There, the Triwizard cup was glowing on a pedestal in the very middle of the labyrinth. The only problem was that in front of it, Fleur was struggling to keep one of the largest Acromantulas at bay that Harry had seen since his encounter with Aragog, even larger than the one that had been blasted apart by Voldemort's defences. The girl was half-buried under it, barely managing to keep a shield intact to avoid the jaws from snapping her neck. Blood dripped from one of her legs. Driven by instinct, Harry acted before thinking. He could easily have ran around the fighting witch and grabbed the trophy, instead dropping to his belly and pointing his wand at the soft underside of the spider. ''Arania Exomai!'' he shouted, blasting the spider off, allowing Fleur to scramble to her feet. She gave him a quick, thankful nod and pointed her trembling hand at the spider, which got to its feet again and bent its legs to leap.
It froze midway and relaxed its posture again, which left Harry both wary and confused. A series of quick clicks followed and the gigantic spider began to... pace back and forth at the other side of the round enclosure? The two Champions exchanged wary looks, both fully aware of the cup being right in front of them, yet neither wanting to go forwards due to the spider getting closer then too.
'''ow about we first deal with zis zing togezer?'' Fleur asked with a slightly shrill voice. ''What was zat spell you used?''
''Arania Exomai,'' Harry repeated. ''It's supposed to repel spiders. This cannot really be the result of my spell anymore however, it only lasts a couple of seconds. And fine. I go left, you go right and we fire it from both sides?'' he suggested.
''It's a plan,'' Fleur replied, bravely starting to move around the sides of the clearing, shuffling towards the Acromantula. From her face though, it was clear that she wasn't looking forward to having to get anywhere near the creature.
Then, as Harry approached it too, something incredible and strange happened. The spider turned towards him and hissed ''Killer,'' before jumping up on the hedge and climbing over it, quickly disappearing from sight. Harry's heart thudded loudly and he looked at the spot where the spider had vanished with wide eyes. Was he going crazy? Or was he suddenly not only a Parselmouth, but an Arachnimouth too or what?
''It... it spoke,'' Fleur whispered, looking a bit green, thankfully destroying that theory. ''What did it mean wiz 'killer'?''
''How could I forget,'' Harry groaned, more to himself than Fleur. Of course Acromantula had the ability to speak: had he and Ron not had a conversation with Aragog? No matter how revolting Acromantulas were in his eyes, they were intelligent creatures and fully capable of human speech as Hagrid had shown by teaching it to his pet spider. So either Aragog must have passed that knowledge onto some of his children, or Hagrid had made this spider into his literal new pet project. ''These animals live in the Forbidden forest,'' he explained to Fleur. ''And they are mostly sentient no matter how they look. The Keeper of Hogwarts, Hagrid, personally taught English to at least one that I know of, it's possible that he did that for multiple spiders.'' From Fleur's face, Harry deduced that she shared his unspoken opinion that giant spiders had no business speaking like humans. ''And I think it called me killer because... well, I've been in the Forbidden Forest once to ask help from the spiders. It didn't turn out great and they tried to eat me and my friend Ron instead. During our escape, we must have killed quite a few of them.'' That wasn't exactly the full explanation, but it would have to do. They'd only been saved by the Ford Anglia and the spiders had clearly not considered him personally much of a threat before, considering that they'd still attacked him en masse earlier this school year. If anything, the fact that his mysterious protective barriers had blasted all that had seriously attacked him into smithereens or made them feel excruciating pain was a more likely explanation. Not that he would bother Fleur with those particular details.
''Anyways,'' he started awkwardly. ''We should... probably figure out what to do with.. well, that.'' he pointed at the cup. ''The Sphinx said that I was being closely followed, so if either Krum or Cedric solves the riddle too, we will be with three soon.''
''Right...'' Exchanging glances, the both of them walked up to the cup a lot calmer than either of them felt. Right in front of them was the prize of this entire blasted Tournament.
''You take it,'' Harry finally said, biting his lip. ''You were here first.'' It was only fair with all the help he'd received to get where he was. It wasn't as if he needed either more fame nor gold either.
''I would've had to give up, had you not helped me with ze spider,'' Fleur protested. ''Also, I still 'aven't forgotten about Gabriele.''
''You helped Hogwarts too,'' Harry shot back. ''Even if not me personally, you gave Cedric information about the second Task right? Besides, I'm not even supposed to be here, we all know that. I was tricked into participating in this thing and am happy enough that I didn't die.''
''You were not ze one disqualified for one of ze Tasks. I should not 'ave been allowed to be 'ere.''
''Yet you're the one who made it here fastest despite being the last to enter. You didn't break any rules by being here. Come on, just take it!''
Fleur grew silent and stretched out her hand, then turned it into a fist before she could grasp the handle of the cup. ''I owe you too much 'Arry. If you insist, zen I do too,'' she spoke, determined. ''Zis is a Tournament for cooperation iz it not? Let us claim victory togezer to fortify ze bond between Beauxbatons and 'ogwarts.'' She glanced at the path that led back to the Sphinx. ''I would wait for Viktor and Cedric too but... it looks like neizer is coming.'' She was correct in that assumption, Harry concluded. It had been far over the five minutes that Neith had promised him and still no sign of either Cedric or Viktor.
''Then together,'' he smiled, giving in. ''One. Two. Three!''
A now-familiar feeling of a hook behind his navel told him that the cup was a Portkey. He'd expected that since Bagman had explained they would appear in front of the maze again. What he hadn't seen coming, was that they landed somewhere else entirely. Right in front of a very familiar building in fact.
Towering over them was Riddle House.
The sight of the ivy-clad walls was at once familiar and strange. Only less than a year ago this place had been barely more than a ruin. Now, the damage to the outer walls had been repaired pristinely, the windows were whole and even the paint of the front door was not peeling off anymore. Looking around, Harry noticed that they stood in a garden that hadn't been there before, the sweet smell of June flowers thick in the air. it looked like Voldemort was here to stay and Harry couldn't help the twinge of worry that constricted his chest, considering how close Dumbledore already was at grasping the truth, having discovered the death of Frank Bryce in this very village, linking it to Voldemort instantly.
Fleur recovered quickly, having her wand out before Harry's head even stopped spinning. ''Iz zis part of ze Tournamen'?'' she muttered, lighting up her wand and looking around. ''Zey did not mention anozer challenge.''
''I.. I don't think it is,'' Harry stuttered, wondering how much he could say. Had Voldemort been so certain of Harry's victory that he wished to invite him? Surely not, the man had made it clear that he only believed Harry to have a chance, nothing more. They both jumped when the door clicked and silently swung open. Far more silent than Harry could recall it being, the blasted thing had always giving him a heart attack by creaking loudly whenever Nagini pushed it open with her heavy body to go hunting. One more change that made this place more liveable... Stepping forwards, the teen went for the door, figuring that keeping the Dark Lord waiting was not the smartest idea. Before he could reach it, a hand grabbed his upper arm firmly and dragged him back with a jerk. ''What the-!'' he yelped, turning around and meeting Fleur's furious gaze.
''Are you mad?'' she snapped at him. ''You do not walk into an unfamiliar 'ouse! And if we are going in, I have a duty to protect you, not ze ozer way around.'' With a sniff that covered up her worry, she released him in favour of raising her wand. ''Protego Maxima. Protego Horribilis, Fianto Duri, Homenum Revelio.'' she spoke in rapid succession, strands of various colours being woven around them, forming a net of spells. Harry wanted to protest against her doing all the work and forming the vanguard, then realised how stupid that might sound. He couldn't exactly say: 'Y'know, this is Voldemort's house and I happen to get along with him enough to not be killed', nor would any 'chivalry' be appreciated in Fleur's case, she looked as headstrong as Hermione, if not more so. And if she even had one shred of fierceness as Harry's friend, he would land in an early grave for suggesting to her to let a younger and more inexperienced guy take the lead just because he felt uncomfortable not protecting her instead. Thus, he remained silent and watched as she checked the shields. ''Zere is one occupant 'ere,'' she informed him, which hardly surprised the teen. Barty was at Hogwarts and the Dark Lord didn't seem all that thrilled about any of his other followers, who had bailed their way out of Azkaban by renouncing the Dark Lord's name. Whoever he needed enough to get into contact with again like Lucius Malfoy, would need to prove their loyalty again.
Fleur tried the Portkey once again, apparently hoping that it would take them back when touching it anew. The cup remained as it was and Harry suspected that if it could take them back at all, it was most likely timed or would only activate again when Voldemort allowed it to do so. It did make him wonder about how something like this had been able to pull them from beyond the Hogwarts wards. The Dark Lord may be powerful beyond Harry's imagination, he was still only one wizard and surely would still be staggered by the protection around the ancient castle which had supposedly been created by the four most powerful magicians in Britain at the time. Not to mention all the new wards that had been added by the many Headmasters of Hogwarts...
Having no other choice, Fleur at long last stepped over the threshold and tentatively went into the house. Encountering no traps, the girl relaxed a bit after a couple of steps, standing still to look around. He himself had not really taken the time to stop and look at the décor before, already having been here long enough to get used to the house. For another person though, he could imagine that the style of the house might be off. It reeked of waned glory and riches, a manor built in Muggle Victorian-style architecture -which Harry only knew of because Aunt Petunia used to brag about some of her friends having similar mansions- and stuffed full with unnecessarily posh furniture from what looked like the thirties. While Fleur picked up an item that Harry recognised as an old candle damper, an object so utterly Muggle that no pure-blooded magician would be able to even figure out what it was for, Harry tried his best to hide the fond grin that threatened to creep onto his face. It was even widened by the pleasant shivers he had felt since passing the door, a reaction to the magic that hung low in the air, thrumming around him and drenching everything in the house.
Strange that only positive feelings rose within him now, even though he'd had many painful memories too. Harry had hated this place at the start, yet everything that remained was a happy, almost fuzzy feel lingering in his belly. Glancing past the open kitchen door, the Gryffindor looked at the chair on which he'd sat, giving Barty instructions with cooking. In the living room, the nest of blankets had been put away. Only the table was still turned to its side, leaving a vague impression of the comfortable seating that Barty and he had created to talk about all sorts of topics. Inhaling deeply, Harry shivered. ''Upstairs,'' he whispered, Voldemort's magic being stronger there. Fleur gave a curt nod and ascended the steps, which were finally entirely cleared of all dust. She halted only when the door to Voldemort's room opened -which Harry had finally learned, through dreams, was actually meant to be the drawing room, quite oddly placed since it was upstairs and there was a large dining room downstairs that Harry had originally thought to be the living room.
''Slightly faster than expected,'' he heard, and Harry was instantly shaken from his musings, recognising Voldemort's voice after a second of confusion. He'd only heard the man speak in his new body for less than twenty-four hours and it sounded decidedly different than either the previous form or how Voldemort sounded in dreams. ''So it was Miss Delacour who won the Tournament then... Come in,'' the Dark Lord continued. Harry craned his neck to see past Fleur's shoulder, failing since she already was a couple of steps ahead. Before Harry could say a word - a loud voice in his head making protesting sounds at the lack of Voldemort's recognition, a voice he quickly squashed - the other had already retreated back into the room. Harry followed Fleur nonetheless, exhaling a shaky breath as he took in the space where so much had happened. This was where he'd first found Voldemort, where he had decided to heal him, then to kill him, commit suicide, play along and finally join the Dark all in rapid succession.
''Potter.'' The man sounded surprised. ''I already wondered why it felt so... never mind, how did two Champions end up here?'' Harry blinked owlishly, noticing that the layout of the room had changed since last time. The old couch had been replaced with a coffee table, a smaller, velvet sofa and two armchairs. In one of those sat the Dark Lord, looking utterly different. Gone was the tall, looming figure and blood-red eyes, replaced by a man in his mid-forties with wavy dark hair that showed a couple of silver streaks. After feeling in the graveyard how pleased the Dark Lord had been with a body that showed off his magical prowess, it was hard to imagine the wizard to have really altered his appearance so drastically, so Harry's best guess was that Voldemort was wearing some sort of elaborate disguise.
''I'm still trying to figure out 'ow we ended up 'ere at all,'' the Beauxbatons Champion spoke, clearly still on guard. ''Per'aps if you'd be so kind to clear zat up first, we can speak.''
''Naturally, do take a seat.''
Fleur remained where she was, her spine rigid and arms folded over her chest, wand still tightly enclosed in her fist. Harry, knowing they were hardly in any danger here, took the offer and made himself comfortable on the sofa, pleased by the softness of its material, giving the Dark Lord another, curious look. He could almost have passed for an older version of the Tom Riddle Harry had come to know through the diary. Almost, were it not for a few out-of-place details such as the eyes being a dark brown instead of the green they used to be. Harry figured it was due to practicality, knowing that Voldemort's eyes tended to flash up red with magic when he was particularly fervent about something. On a second look, Harry also noted that the man dressed far more Muggle than he'd ever done according to Harry's -albeit limited- knowledge, perhaps to throw off any who might see the resemblance. Whether it would fool Dumbledore was another story altogether.
''Let me introduce myself first. David Noctua, chief editor of both the Daily Prophet and Nouvelles du Monde Magique. Well, the latter only very recently I admit.''
''Press,'' Fleur stated flatly. ''You brought us here to have a story.''
''Not exactly,'' Voldemort smiled. ''What good would it do me to know who the Champions are a few minutes before the rest knows? I can hardly have it printed right now and no-one likes spoilers like this. No, I wish to start by offering an apology. One of my subordinates was... ah, out of line in her style of interviewing and I really should have looked her piece over myself before letting it be printed. Rita Skeeter has been fired for exploitation and libel of minors. Last I heard, she was trying her luck over in the States instead.''
''And this apology had to involve teleporting us here?'' Harry asked, genuinely curious about the reasoning behind their coming here. Knowing that Voldemort's cover was just that, he couldn't imagine what the Dark Lord actually wanted to accomplish.
''No. In all truth, I am trying to take the press in a different direction than it has been in for the past... centuries really. The Prophet has bowed to the whims of the Ministry of Magic ever since the beginning and these past decades, 'Monde Magique' has too. Freedom of press is reserved only for small companies that are then even often boycotted when 'going too far'. I wish to change this and ensure that censorship will be a thing of the past. To do so, I had hoped for the support of engaged, young witches and wizards who are not yet too stuck in the old ways to care about this topic. As all the eyes and ears of both countries are right now pointed at the Triwizard Tournament, I saw a great opportunity. After all, the Goblet of Fire has chosen four Champions who are perfect to not only face challenges of wit and skill, but also to pave the way for further international cooperation. Especially the both of you, as victors of this Tournament, will be asked to get yourself involved into a great deal of issues regarding politics, charity or otherwise. I merely wished to be the first to do so since I know that I have a goal worth fighting for.''
Harry was impressed by the speech. Had he not known who they were really speaking to, he would honestly have believed to be faced with an enthusiastic idealist. On second thought, that label could really apply to Voldemort, only the man was usually enthusiastic about other topics such as forgotten magic and teaching rather than rights or freedom. He could see how the wizard would profit from an uncensored press though. Normally that might have been an extra obstacle, but if the man really wasn't bluffing and had managed to take hold of the position he claimed to have, he controlled that obstacle now and made it into a major asset. Harry was the first to admit to the influence press could have, having been submitted to the whimsical beliefs of people around him more than once.
''And what would zis bring us?'' Fleur asked coolly. ''As I see it, you are trying to recruit naive young people to do free work for you so you can ease restrictions on yourself. I do agree zat freedom of press and opinion are important values, yet I am also aware of zat it can be detrimental to a country for the media to try and deconstruct ze established order. Zis is why ze French journalists decided it was better to cooperate wizze government.'' Hatty gave her an impressed look, both for the points she was making and for the fact that, regardless of her accent, she was incredibly eloquent in English for a foreigner when she wanted to be.
''You certainly know your politics well.''
''One does not need to be a genius to pick up ze news,'' Fleur commented.
''Oh, I do wonder about that sometimes,'' Voldemort muttered. ''In either case, I am aware of the risks that come with reaching my goal and that absolute freedom of press can lead to chaos and oftentimes also a warped view on happenings. However, in the current state, it can only go forwards. What the Ministry wishes us to print now is largely articles that cover up their mistakes or that will influence the people's opinions in a way that is favourable for the government. These articles are riddled with falsities that we have to print and I am sick of it. Their control has even gone so far that occasionally, the Ministry will 'recommend' me to employ certain people, with no real choice being given about the matter. Skeeter was one of these and I could only fire her after several scandals regarding that woman came to light and the Ministry did not protect her anymore.''
Harry could see that Fleur's cold demeanour was wavering as Voldemort continued to play into her sense of righteousness.
''So, I came up with a solution,'' the man continued, a slight smirk on his face. ''Surely, I could not pass up on the opportunity to print articles on themes that were asked of me personally by the current stars of the Wizarding World? Even the Ministry would have to agree to that not doing so would be rather... suspicious.''
''And naturally, zese topics are some zat you 'ave already chosen?'' Fleur questioned, finally sitting down. As soon as she did so, a tray with various drinks appeared, which she only gave a suspicious look. Harry hesitated. He was rather thirsty after all the time in the maze and knew that Voldemort was not likely to poison them. On the other hand, Fleur might think him stupid again for trusting a stranger too much. Sighing, he resigned himself to not accepting anything until she did.
''Yes, though I am certain that you will agree to these... and Mr Potter too.'' Harry gave a sceptical look, not being incredibly interested in many things that could be covered by press. Two envelopes appeared, one for each of them. With a muttered word and a flick of her wand, Fleur opened hers, shock colouring her face as she took out the contents, a few sheets of papers and pictures that Harry could not see very well from this angle. He had a harder time opening the thing, not able to recall any spells for opening letters easily, usually just tearing into them. To come across as slightly more civilised, Harry tried to carefully pry it open, which did take a lot longer and made him only more frustrated, certainly when Fleur already spoke up, almost choking on her words.
''Zis is... Zis is 'orrible.'' Harry's head shot up at her tone, putting his own half-opened envelope aside. Tears were streaming down her face and she had a hand pressed to her mouth.
''It is. And that is exactly why it should come to light. I have been told not to publish anything about it, for it would 'damage the Ministry's reputation' if it came out that some of their higher-ranked employees are profiting from this trade. Besides, the lessened rights of creatures have been used for ages to elevate magicians.''
Harry tried to reach out for the papers in Fleur's hand, but she slapped it away. ''You're too young to see zis,'' she bit, shaking her head. Taken aback and a tad offended, he instead took his own envelope, slightly more hesitant about seeing the contents now. When he finally held it in his hands, he felt dizzy.
Pictures of blood. Broken and starved bodies with hollow eyes. It was a cut-out from a newspaper of sorts, although Harry could not read the letters, not even recognising the script. There was very little text in general, mostly pictures that all showed the same horrors. It looked like Voldemort did not think that he was too young for any of it. ''What... is this?'' he asked, trying to keep his voice under control. This was supposed to be an issue that he cared about? Unless Voldemort was trying to appeal to his supposed saviour-complex...
''Muggleborns. Those are all underage Muggleborns, the way they were found at their families' place by teachers of various magical schools.'' Harry swallowed thickly, the tortured eyes staring back at him from the pictures. At first he'd thought them to be Muggle since the people did not move. Now he saw that this was not the case. There were movements: slight jerks of muscles, tears flowing from grimy faces... it was just that these children were most likely frozen by fear, much like Harry had felt so often when curled up beneath the stairs and hearing his uncle raging outside. ''Muggles can be great parents, I've heard,'' Voldemort continued, sounding strained. ''Unfortunately, many are not, certainly not for magical children. These cases were all brought to light by three different journalists who banded together to try and document child abuse. After one small article in a Russian newspaper, they lost their jobs because there was too much international backlash. They kept travelling and making pictures, cooperating with various magical schools. About a year ago, all three were heavily fined for causing an unnecessary uproar and 'gathering false information'. They also found two children in Britain, to which our Ministry replied by denying that this ever happened.''
''Where did those children go?'' Harry asked, frowning.
''Hogwarts. They are three years above you, although you will not be able to speak to them about it. They had all their memories wiped as part of the cover-up. I am uncertain as to what those were replaced by.''
''But a memory-wipe won't take away everything they went through!'' Harry exclaimed, getting angry. ''Nor would it give any justice! What happened to the parents?''
''A partial-memory wipe to erase all involvement of magicians in the uncovering of these atrocities. Afterwards, they were left to the Muggle authorities. Considering that the children were taken away by the Obliviators and there were no other witnesses, you can imagine how well that went.''
''No!'' Fleur said, finally taking her eyes off her own pictures, shaking her head, eyes wide. ''Zat is... is...'' she broke off, breathing harsh and angry. Harry blinked, wondering if he was seeing correctly that Fleur's skin colour seemed to change. It was not exactly comparable to Uncle Vernon's reddening, looking far more drastic and going more in the opposite direction, becoming as unnaturally white as Voldemort's usual look. A few seconds later, it was gone again and Fleur looked rather embarrassed. ''My apologies. I... zis is all a bit much. Could I...'' she gestured to the door. ''A bit of fresh air would...''
''Naturally,'' the Dark Lord spoke, not looking concerned in the slightest about Fleur wandering around in his house. Harry hoped that she wouldn't run into Nagini. The instant that the door closed behind her, Voldemort's demeanour changed completely, wiping off the strange half-smile that was part of his act and looking far more... vicious. He raised a hand towards the door, a shimmering film coating the opposite walls. ''Now we can talk freely. Congratulations, it looks like my trust in you paid off. Although I did not get an answer to my question of why two Champions are here.''
The demanding tone made clear that the Dark Lord expected an instant answer, one Harry found difficult to give, considering he still held the pictures of tortured children. Children that could have been him, had the Dursleys been a tad more sadistic than they were. Not that that justified their actions, he reprimanded himself, recalling what Barty had said. It was too easy to try and brush off the damage they had done to him when confronted with worse things that others went through. Finally, he looked up, relaxing slightly when seeing that, as he'd expected, Voldemort's disguise could not hold in all of his magic, the eyes now a bright red again. ''Fleur reached the centre first, then was confronted with an Acromantula that kept her from grabbing the cup. We fought it off together and were just as far then. Since I fulfilled my real task by learning and using dark magic, I figured that it wouldn't really matter whether I won or not and insisted for her to take it. She really was the fastest after all so I thought that fair. Fleur refused, claiming that the spider might have defeated her had I not been there, plus she owed me for saving her sister. In the end, we agreed to take the cup together. So, why are we really here? And how did you manage to Portkey us out of the wards anyways?''
''You are here for the reason I explained... with some background information that I did not yet reveal. I do indeed wish to expose those things the Ministries rather pretend never existed, so I can use it to draw the masses to my side. I have told you before that I found that a rule of fear did not work in my favour. Instead, I'll uncover the faults of others using this disguise, then ensure that all of those problems are seen to properly by my followers or other dark sympathisers, who can then use their reputation of being benevolent to see to it that my laws are supported. That it will help many people is for me personally more of a side-effect, but a very useful one nonetheless.''
''You certainly thought this through very far-ahead,'' Harry commented.
''Naturally, what would the point be of starting a plan when not having an end-goal in sight? As for your second question, Portkeys normally indeed cannot go past the wards. The cup however, was already intended to be a Portkey for transporting people within Hogwarts so the Champions would appear in front of the maze upon obtaining it. For that, the anti-Portkey restriction was lifted for this particular one. Whether it actually goes through the wards then does not matter anymore since the wards disregard this object altogether. I merely had Barty change it a bit so that instead of a normal Portkey, a chain was built in, to first bring you here before reaching its original destination.''
''I see...'' Harry said, wondering what to say, staring down at the pictures in his hands again. ''What did you give Fleur?'' he asked, noting that she had taken her own envelope with her.
''Information about the underground slave trade in mainland Europe. Rare 'creatures' are sold in various places to rich people for all sorts of purposes. That these creatures involve beings of human intelligence or sometimes even humans like werewolves, does not seem to bother the clients. It is a lucrative trade and hushed up since the best buyers are often politicians, from Britain as well. I doubt that Fudge is involved himself, but I do know a few Wizengamot members who keep their exotic 'pets' at home. One of the main beings targeted are Veela, who are then drugged to keep them in their non-lethal state. Miss Delacour's own grandmother used to sit in those cages before she was freed by a group not unlike the Order of the Phoenix: light magicians who tried to form a vigilante group to battle the injustices of this world. It is one reason why her family is so light even when much of France is rather neutral. However, that group is long gone and no-one else is combating the slave trade now. I thought it would be time for her to find a new side to rely on.''
''I had no idea that something so... so vile was going on in the Wizarding World. Although Hermione was right in that House elves are also an accepted form of slavery.''
The Dark Lord hummed. ''House-elves as slaves? An interesting way of describing them. One could debate about that status since their ancestors bound themselves to magicians in exchange for protection and power. For individual elves, they could be seen as such if mistreated, although even then the magic that binds magicians and elves together is so strong that few elves will not gladly sacrifice their lives for their masters.''
Though surprised by the new information, Harry remained sceptical. ''I have personally met only a few house-elves. One of them regarded himself as a slave and did everything possible to get free, disregarding his master's orders to push through his own will. He works at Hogwarts now, has clothes and gets paid. Another elf I have met recently hates his master and does everything in his power to follow the orders so that the least amount of effort is put in to fulfil the direct demands. I'm pretty sure that he'll stab his master in the back as soon as he can.''
Voldemort frowned at that. ''This is highly disconcerting news... it would make for another interesting and controversial article though. While this job is merely a cover for me, I do need to perform well in it to not arouse suspicion. The one I took over this position from was highly motivated and put in much work himself. That imagine needs to be kept alive.''
Something about the way he said it made Harry wary. ''That person did not merely retire, did he?''
''Not voluntarily, no. Before you say anything, he is still alive, if slightly confused and mutilated.''
''Mutilated?'' Harry choked.
''We'll discuss all of that soon. You have larger problems to worry about,'' the Dark Lord spoke, frowning at the floor. Confused, Harry looked down, seeing nothing there. Only then did it click that there should be something. His shadow was still missing after the spell he'd used in the maze. ''Shadow transformations are advanced magic and while I commend you for using it, do take care. If it does not return to you within a few days, there will be reason for concern.''
''Why?'' Harry asked. ''It's just a shadow.''
''These things are far more than a mere natural phenomenon,'' Voldemort explained. ''Without it, you may lose yourself. Well, we shall see how it develops, it won't bring any immediate danger. Now, Miss Delacour is returning and the both of you should head back soon.''
''About that!'' Harry suddenly said. ''What excuse should we give for being gone for so long? There were supposedly monitoring spells all through the maze. While they told us that for surprise effects, there would be none in the centre, surely it would be strange for us to remain in there for so long.''
''Do not worry about that. One of the reasons why I am not concerned about keeping this house as my base of operations is that I started experimenting with dimensional shifting on it. Apart from direct keyed-in Portkeys such as the one here, there is only one entrance to it. That also made it easier to distort the time here for a while. You've been gone for... exactly one minute and forty-three seconds since taking the cup, not enough extra time for anyone to be concerned, not with an Acromantula in the maze.''
''Either Viktor or Cedric were behind us though. We were not certain if they'd still make it past the Sphinx or not but if so, they might arrive in the centre and find no-one there.''
Voldemort tapped his chin, thinking. In that moment, the door opened again and Fleur walked in, confidently striding towards the table and slamming the pictures down on it. ''When you make zis public, will zey burn?'' she whispered, fire in her eyes as she looked at Voldemort.
''Oh yes,'' he answered, a wicked grin on his face that didn't quite look as if it should have belonged on the face of David Noctua, even with his eyes shifting back to brown again. ''I'll make sure of that.'' The girl straightened her back and nodded.
''Good. Use my name however you wish to get zis all out. 'Arry, we should return.''
''Before that, I wish to give you this,'' the man spoke, producing two more envelopes and handing them to Fleur. ''While they were not victorious, I do think that Mr Krum and Mr Diggory might be interested in this as well, although I cannot promise that I can trample my restrictions as much for them. It also might make them less inclined to tell anyone of any mysterious disappearance they might have witnessed. Oh, and a last word of advice to Mr Potter: you may have to go back to those who treat you with fear in their hearts, but rejoice in the knowledge of that this time, it will not be long before the opposite happens.'' Harry frowned, a flutter of hope in his heart at the promising tone. They had not discussed his summer plans further. It looked like Voldemort had not forgotten his request.
When Fleur asked him about it after they exited the house again, Harry merely shook his head and smiled. He wouldn't need to face the Dursleys for very long then. Good, otherwise he would definitely have run to Sirius far sooner than planned. Both of them grabbed the cup again while standing in the well-kept garden. As Harry had already suspected before, it would only activate again when the Dark Lord wished for it. A few seconds after they had grabbed it tightly and stood in silence, he felt the pull on his navel again. Just as he felt like he'd black out from the experience, he crashed on wet grass, roars all around them from the masses of cheering people, although they went silenct rather fast.
''What an unexpected twist!'' Harry heard Ludo Bagman shout through his magical megaphone. ''Not only an extra Champion to join this Tournament, but to win it as well! Two final Champions! This is unprecedented in the history of the Triwizard Tournament ladies and gentlemen!'' A wand was pushed in Harry's face in a way that reminded him far too much of a microphone.
''No comment,'' he spoke, pushing it away, feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden. ''Fleur needs a Healer,'' he then added. Through all the commotion, he'd entirely forgotten that the girl had been wounded by the Acromantula. She hadn't shown it in the least and Harry had to commend her for that. She was already standing, reaching out a hand to help him to his feet as well. He accepted her aid, standing a bit wobbly, wishing to just get away from the crowd and the commotion. Not only was he tired, cold, and hurting everywhere, the images he'd been shown also kept swimming in his mind. It looked like his mood was not shared by the Beauxbatons Champion, who drew her own wand and pointed it at her throat.
''Today, we uncovered ze true purpose of ze Triwizard Tournament,'' she spoke, head held up high and entwining her fingers with Harry's, holding up their hands in the air. '''ogwarts won. Beauxbatons won. And, while Viktor does not stand here at ze moment, Durmstrang won too. For zrough all our 'ardships, it were our bonds zat kept us alive and going. Ze first to recognise zat was Cedric Diggory and we all followed 'is example. We were told zat ze victor would go down in 'istory wiz glory and fame. Well, 'arry and I were boz ready to refuse any money or glory in favour of ze ozer. Now, I still refuse it if it does not go to all four of us.'' Harry looked up to her with amazement, a smile spreading on his face.
''Me too,'' he croaked. ''None of us would have gotten as far without each other. When Viktor and Cedric are here, I demand that they share this circle with us. This Tournament is not a Quidditch game with winners and losers. It is an opportunity to cooperate, and thus we did, and we will.'' Even through his fatigue, it felt good, standing there with Fleur and telling the jury to stuff their ideas of pitting children against each other in a game that had led to deaths before. It felt even better when the other Champions did come over and hesitantly stood with them until Harry hugged Cedric and Fleur slung an arm around Viktor's shoulder, beaming at him.
Their audience started clapping uncertainly, the applause growing louder as time passed and it became clear that they were all dead serious about the idea. Harry sought out Barty, who stuck up a thumb. He also tried to find Ron and Hermione, disappointed when he could not recognise them among the crowds. That was a few seconds before he was being tackled by his best friends, Ron cheering loudly in his ear: ''You did it mate, you did it! HA!'' Laughing, Harry shook Ron off his back and accepted Hermione's tight embrace. The other Champions also left the circle in favour of being congratulated by friends and families. The only one to put up a large fuss was Diggory's father, storming away after a couple of harsh words, leaving a resigned Cedric and shocked Cho Chang behind.
''He's just very competitive,'' Harry heard the Hufflepuff say, who looked dejected. ''He just doesn't understand that not everything has to be about winning.'' He wanted to go to Cedric again and talk to him, but was pulled away by his friends. Harry could only hope that he'd be able to meet up with the other three Champions later, so Fleur and he could tell the others about their meeting. Fleur still had the two envelopes they'd been given, hidden under her robes.
''The award ceremony shall be tomorrow, where the jury will.. eh.. take today's happenings into account!'' Bagman shouted. ''Now, it is time to celebrate!''
Fireworks went off above the maze, and the hedges all burst into colourful flames. It looked like they'd have their Quidditch field back in no time. Harry wondered who the Captain would be next year. How odd that the Tournament was over now...
I hope that the last task was surprising enough ;P
And let's see how our favourite Dark Lord will do as head of two national newspapers hmm?
Please Read and Review!
xx GeMerope