Hello lovelies, and thank you for still reading this story! Special thanks to my Bèta and to the reviewer Gurgaraneth for giving me an idea about how to change my chapter titles once I start with the next schoolyear.
Enjoy!
Chapter 34 – Awards and Promises
The atmosphere in the castle the following day was strange to say the least. It vaguely reminded Harry of when everyone had thought Sirius to be on the loose in Hogwarts, except this time, the story of a murderer running around was not accepted, let alone spread, by the Ministry. Dumbledore's request for extra security had been denied and despite Moody's glaring absence -the real one still had not been found, leading Harry to believe that Barty must have moved the man upon knowing he would be discovered soon-, part of the student body didn't buy their teacher's story. Even the other disappearance in the castle raised hardly any additional concerns, Karkaroff having fled since Dumbledore announced Barty's plot. Harry recalled that the Headmaster of Durmstrang had voiced the possibility of leaving before to Snape, right after the Yule Ball. It was surprising that he'd even stayed that long after.
On top of the general lack of belief in the story of their DADA professor having been a Death Eater in disguise, came the fact that both Ludo Bagman and Percy tried everything they could to focus attention on the ceremony that would take place in the evening, plus everyone knew that they would be returning home soon, minimising the feel of a real threat. Ironically, only those around Harry were genuinely worried enough to be afraid, everyone else that believed Dumbledore merely felt uneasy. As much as Hermione got mad at their House-mates for their lax attitude, Harry could fully understand. In a school in which something horrible happened every year, it was hard to remain wary at all times. Apart from the first years, all students had had at least one horrible event take place here, be it the Basilisk petrifying people left and right or a supposed Death Eater breaking out of Azkaban and into Hogwarts. Barty also had made a solid case for himself by having taught them all year without a single incident. He had tied with Lupin as most popular Defence teacher of the past decade according to a couple of seventh-years. Without even knowing any past Quirrel, Harry full heartedly agreed with that statement.
That he could not find it within himself to muster up any convincing negative feelings towards Barty, of course did not sit well with Hermione, and he got the full brunt of her anger when she found out that even he didn't take the danger he was in seriously enough.
''Look Mione,'' Ron finally threw in as she paused to breathe. ''This entire Tournament has been a worse threat than one single person could ever be, and he's also survived that right?''
This, of course, led to another unfortunate squabble between his best friends, one he didn't know how to break without being insincere one way or the other. By dinner, the girl was ignoring the both of them. To distract himself from the argument, he sat next to Neville instead, the boy telling him enthusiastically about a plant named 'Gillyweed' and how it was a shame that he hadn't heard of it in time for the second task. Chewing down some leaves indeed sounded a lot better than what Harry had done himself, though he could imagine Voldemort would not have been happy with such an easy way out, so it was better that he'd been helped by Malfoy instead.
Speaking of whom, even after their 'hand of friendship', Draco had been ignoring him again, which suited Harry just fine in general, but which might turn out problematic in the future. Next year, when hopefully there was less danger on his mind, Harry would start some solid efforts to try and be more civil, and get Malfoy to do the same. -How was that for impossible goals.-
''Ladies and gentlemen!' Bagman rose from his seat, his characteristic beaming smile on his face. In all those months, Harry had never found out what made him so wary of the man and he felt that perhaps Bagman hadn't deserved his quick judgement. Had this actually been a person who really had tried to genuinely help him? Harry couldn't tell anymore. If anything, he was glad for not getting involved with a Ministry employee who clearly followed their policies despite appearing not to. For example, Bagman was rather good at ignoring Moody's empty seat to his right. ''Tonight is a time for thrill, for celebration and rewards! You are witness to the first Triwizard Tournament in history to have two Champions reach the end of the third Task. After yesterday's events, the members of the jury have discussed possibilities, from a final duel to settle the score to a public vote. In the end, most of us found it fairest to split the winnings between the two victors. We set three fixed Tasks after all, for which the Goblet of Fire chose its Champions. Not recognising one of the victories would defeat its purpose. Erhm... yes, Miss Delacour?'' he stuttered as Fleur rose from her seat, chin lifted and looking none too happy.
''So zis split does not mean between all four of us? I zink we made quite clear yesterday zat only a win for all schools will be accepted by us.'' She gave Harry a pointed look, so he gulped and awkwardly stood as well. How he hated to have all those eyes on him...
''Fleur's right,'' he said. ''That was made more than clear.''
''The rules are clear!'' Percy now interrupted, looking pissed. ''There are those who win and those who lose, we will not be handing out any consolidation prizes!'' Harry almost felt pity for Percy. Someone who lifted his own achievements by talking down the work of others, including his own family, surely couldn't understand. Before Fleur could protest further or others could fuel the arguments on either side, Dumbledore cleared his throat, silencing any protest.
''I understand and commend your feelings on this, Miss Delacour. However, the jury has decided. If we were to acknowledge a victory for all schools, there would have been no point in your hardships. That does not mean,'' he spoke, raising his voice as murmurs came from the crowd, ''That anyone can tell you what to spend your fully deserved prize money on once you have received it, be it charities, a golden castle or your co-Champions.'' His eyes twinkled, and as Percy Weasley looked positively murderous towards Dumbledore, Harry found it harder than ever to muster up any dislike for the Headmaster.
''I zank you for zat enlig'tning detail,'' Fleur diplomatically spoke, knowing that anything more than this 'compromise' was unrealistic.
''Now then,'' Bagman continued, a tad nervous as if he was waiting for others to interrupt him. ''If you will all follow me, the committee is waiting. Unfortunately, the Minister of Magic cannot be present today, but I am certain that his Senior Under-Secretary will do a splendid job of honouring our young heroes as well.'' Harry noticed that the smile that accompanied those words looked rather strained. ''All in rows of two please. Miss Delacour, Mr Potter,'' he waved them forwards, so Harry groaned and stumbled away from his seat as students left and right of him were already standing and trying to get their things together.
''Sorry I wasn't more helpful,'' he apologised to Fleur when he approached her.
''It's okay 'arry, I 'ad not expected ozerwise.'' Unsure of how to interpret that, Harry remained silent. Had she thought he would be unhelpful, or did she mean that she didn't try to put expectations on him? The thought kept him busy as they went out towards the entrance hall, then was wiped from his mind as the massive oak doors opened towards the outside.
This time, there was no arena or large stands. Instead, the landscape around Hogwarts had been changed completely. The entrance to the castle usually led through a courtyard and then the vast, hilly grounds started, going downhill on the right side to Hagrid's hut and the forest, and up to the left, giving a perfect position for the Quidditch pitch.
Now, large parts of the rising and falling terrain had been flattened, and the straight road towards Hogsmeade had somehow vanished. In its stead stood a rather overdone dome on pillars, large enough to easily hold the entirety of Hogwarts students in only three rows all around. In the middle was a podium, where the least witch-y witch stood that Harry had ever seen. Her robes could barely count as such, being bright pink and fluffy at parts, with an equally pink, crocheted short cape draped around her shoulders that reminded him of strange garments that he'd only seen till now on either rich, old or artsy Muggles. The rest of her appearance didn't improve his impression, from the velvety black bow on top of her styled hair to the heavy rings on each on her stubby fingers. Harry knew that one shouldn't judge people by the cover, but he couldn't help having an instant dislike for this person. Perhaps it was the way she greeted Fleur and him with a painfully fake smile.
Ludo Bagman led them up the podium and then left again to delegate the crowd that followed. The noise around made it hard to understand anyone well, so they unfortunately needed to go very close to the woman, who looked a lot like a toad from close-up.
''Ah, children, you look so lovely,'' she spoke in a completely unexpected high-pitched, girly voice. Harry noticed Fleur instantly stiffen beside him. ''Who would have thought that such a pretty girl could get so far? Are you sure that you should stand here?'' she continued, coming closer and grabbing Fleur's immobile hands with a giggle. Harry glanced to his right and almost laughed at seeing Fleur's murderous expression, which caused the woman's smile to falter for a moment.
''Are you implying zat I am too beautiful to be powerful? If so, I must wonder what you zink of your own abilities,'' the girl said, giving an equally sweet smile while her eyes spit fire.
The woman ignored her words completely, releasing Fleur's hands and turning towards Harry. It didn't elude him that she quickly wiped her hands on her robes. ''Ah, and of course, our national hero. First youngest Seeker, now youngest Champion. You sure do like breaking rules, don't you, Mr. Potter?'' she gave a short giggle again that sounded more like a nervous tick than anything.
''I didn't break the rules to get here, Mrs...?''
''Dolores Umbridge, Under-Secretary of the Minister of Magic. Although with recent happenings, I cannot imagine that will remain my only title. Now... Mr. Potter.'' She pursed her lips. ''If there is one thing that you should not try with me, it is lying. You may be a winner here, you are only truly a winner if you embrace the truth, a very important lesson that any child should learn. And we all know that you put your name in that cup.'' Harry narrowed his eyes. It wasn't as if it was very important what some bint from the Ministry thought, it still rubbed him the wrong way to be branded a liar again.
''Professor Dumbly-dore said zat someone else put 'Arry's name in ze cup,'' Fleur spoke, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. ''Zere was zis man, a Deaz Eater-'' Harry sharply looked at her, wondering when and why Dumbledore had told her this, when he had told Harry that it should be kept under covers among the students for now. Sure, the news about Barty had spread like a wildfire, but there had not been any official statements about the Death Eater having been there because of Harry.
''There was no Death Eater!'' the woman suddenly hissed, baring her teeth, grabbing his arm and giving him a penetrating look. ''Was there, Mr Potter?''
He tried to stand as upright as possible as he looked down on her -she really was short-. ''There was,'' he stated, wincing as he felt nails trying to dig through his robes. A moment later, she released him and took a hasty step back.
''You will learn the lessons that you deserve Mr. Potter,'' she breathlessly stated, honey dripping from each syllable as a self-satisfied smile appeared on her face. ''I will make sure of that. Now, to your places, hop hop.''
''We're not pets,'' Fleur bristled.
Umbridge turned towards her now and gave her a long look, eyes boring into each other. ''Here I wished to be nice to you,'' she finally whispered, a sad note audible. ''Most pets are good creatures. Loyal. Pure. Not a seducing half-breed like you. On your spot.''
A few moments after, Harry wasn't entirely sure what had happened anymore. He was only aware of the deafening silence around him and the throbbing of his right hand. A hand that had connected rather violently with Umbridge's face. '''Arry!'' Fleur spoke, shocked. The woman lay on the ground, touching her bruised face and looking up at him with wide eyes.
''Do you know who I am?'' she exclaimed, all girlishness gone from her voice all of a sudden, turning rather into a shriek of rage.
''No-one insults my friends,'' he spoke, loud enough for anyone to hear. ''I don't care whether you're a maid or an empress. And for an Under-Secretary, you are rather undiplomatic, throwing around slurs and accusations at the ones you are supposed to give tribute to.'' Other people rushed in now, including Percy, whom Harry hardly recognised anymore beneath his furious expression.
''Anarchy!'' someone shouted from the back row, and Harry saw a tuft of red hair that equalled Percy's. ''Revolution!'' an identical voice sounded from the opposite direction. Harry relaxed, grateful for the Twins' incredibly ability to pull attention towards themselves. Next thing he knew, the flowering plants that curled around the white pillars exploded, showering everyone in colourful petals. Birds appeared out of thin air and dove into the now panicking crowd, pecking at everyone they could find. Poor Neville became the brunt of the chaos again, a spell hitting him that made him swell up, not unlike Harry's own incident with Aunt Marge.
The moment was short-lived, as could have been expected with so many teachers around. McGonagall vanished the birds, Flitwick returned Neville to normal, and Dumbledore swept up the podium, bowing down and gallantly offering a hand to Umbridge. ''My apologies madam,'' he spoke. ''Some of my students can be a bit... hot-headed. Surely, Harry had no intention to react so extremely.'' Harry threw Dumbledore a look that he hoped conveyed how sincere he had been in smashing her face in. ''Perhaps it is better if Poppy takes care of you and a different representative takes over, maybe Mr Bagman?''
''Yes... yes, that would be... preferable.'' She threw Harry and Fleur a dirty look as she straightened her clothes and walked down the podium with as much dignity as she could muster.
''Harry,'' Dumbledore gravely said in a low voice. ''That was unwise.''
''She called Fleur a half-breed,'' he explained through gritted teeth.
Dumbledore's wrinkles deepened. ''Dolores Umbridge is a dangerous woman. You already have enough enemies, my boy. Do try not to anger her again if you can.''
''I hope I won't be seeing any more of her, then I cannot anger her either.''
''It might not be that simple,'' the man sighed without further explanation. ''Miss Delacour, I apologise for the harassment you have had to endure during your stay here. I can promise you that not all the English are so impolite as some experiences might have made you believe.''
''I know zat,'' Fleur answered curtly. '''Arry showed me zat. Cedric too.''
''Good... good.'' The old man gave Harry an approving look. ''Glad to hear. So, now that the school has recovered from the Weasley Twins and natural order has been restored: Mr. Bagman, if you will?''
Looking joyous about the turn of events, the man almost ran up the platform, taking out his wand with a broad gesture and putting it against his throat. ''It looks like I have been given the honour of honouring you!'' he said, laughing at his own joke. ''Man, is it long ago that I could share any spotlights, I can tell you that. My uniform fit a lot better back then. Has everyone found their way back to their seats? Yes? Good! I didn't prepare a speech so please forgive me for winging this.'' A few students laughed and Harry instantly saw that the crowd was looking far more excited now Bagman had taken the stage. Charisma certainly made a lot of difference, even before they knew what he would say. The bored looks many had had when sitting down, before the incident with Umbridge, were gone.
''We've all been witness to three amazing days this years where we saw our Champions here give their all to face dangers which hardly any witch or wizard will ever have to see. Three days in which we could enjoy the fruits of months of hard work, to see how varied the styles of different schools can be.'' He waved his wand and several see-through rectangles appeared in the air around them, looking almost like muggle screens. On it, Harry saw Fleur running around, shooting spells. ''Miss Delacour used famous hypnosis charms from Beauxbatons to conquer her dragon; dove into the lake with a Bubble-head charm, and sleekening spells to swim faster; and finally found her way through the maze quickest of any with a mixture of spells. She has utilised a great many Beauxbatons favourites, from enthralling charms to the deadly beauty of poison nebulas.'' He pointed to one of the screens, where it looked like a colourful star system erupted from her wand, wrapping itself around a Skrewt. From the back, Harry heard a pained noise and he quickly looked at Hagrid, who was seated on a large chair, a dotted towel in his hand which was used as handkerchief. ''Miss Delacour combined the grace, speed and power that Beauxbatons has always portrayed, reaching the centre of the maze first. Although the ending was shrouded in mystery for all of us, Miss Delacour informed us that she could not run for the cup straight away as a massive Acromantula was blocking her path, which she fought off together with Mr. Potter.
And with that, we come to our youngest Champion, one of two Hogwarts received this year due to an error in the charm cast on the Goblet of Fire. The Goblet has been thoroughly checked now to ensure that mistakes like this do not happen in future Tournaments. While Mr. Potter did not sign up for the Triwizard Tournament, he fared miraculously well, using skills far beyond the level that he's been taught at. From all the Champions, he certainly was the most versatile, using a combination of skills taught at Hogwarts in the first four years as well as many extra-curricular material. While the judges have been very split in their decisions of how to rate the acceptability of Mr. Potter's spellwork, his stunts were spectacular to see.'' Bagman paused for a moment and pointed at one of the screens which showed Harry as he ripped a scale off the Swedish Short-snout. Harry hadn't realised that they also had utilised monitoring spells back then. It seemed that only with the Second Task, they'd relied solely on the information of the Merfolk. Perhaps those spells didn't work well under water.
''It looks like Mr. Potter dove not only into the Black lake, but also into his history books. I've been informed of that this brilliant piece of work was a bardic spell used long ago to calm dragons, and the ritual Mr Potter found to breathe underwater has been invented by Merfolk themselves several thousands of years ago to communicate with magicians. So while diverting from the current curriculum of Hogwarts at times, he stayed true to using spells originating in Britain. He finally conquered the Acromantula together with Ms Delacour, after which the cup was within reach for both. We can debate whether or not they made the right decision in sharing, I personally approve of their sportsmanlike choice of admitting each other's worthiness. On that note, I am joyful about being allowed to give these two great individuals their deserved prizes.''
The screens disappeared in puffs of coloured smoke which then turned into ribbons that twirled in the air above the heads of the students. The polished wooden boards of the podium rippled at a wave of Bagman's wand and a structure rose from it, making Harry and Fleur take a step back. Harry could feel a vague hum in the air, a sign of powerful magic. Only when it fully formed and gold coins started flowing from several directions, did Harry realise that it was a sort of fountain, spewing forth the prize money. Perched atop two platforms left and right stood a pair of Triwizard cups -this time hopefully free of any Portkey charms-. Harry barely heard the cheers from the crowds, his eyes searching for his friends with worry. His relationship with both Ron and Hermione had been rocky at best this year, first with Ron being jealous of him, then of Hermione, and now Hermione being angry at the both of them. Harry had the feeling that any small thing could spiral into a new argument. Knowing Ron, seeing his best friend receive a literal fountain of gold was probably not easy for the boy. And indeed, when Harry finally found the lanky figure in the crowd, Ron's face did not exactly exude happiness, making Harry's stomach sink. Fleur took his arm and Harry realised that he'd apparently missed a cue, stumbling a bit as he was dragged forwards.
''On zree 'Arry,'' the girl smiled. ''Like in ze maze.'' Relieved that he at least wasn't standing up here alone -how mortifying would that be!- he reached out for the cup and raised it up over his head. As much as he hadn't really wanted to participate in this Tournament, a sense of accomplishment filled him nonetheless, combined with a strange flip of his stomach when realising that both Voldemort and Barty would be damned proud of him. He looked at Viktor and Cedric, who had at the very least received seats of honour in front. He balled his fists, thinking it was unfair that he an Fleur were forced to play by rules they didn't agree with. Harry certainly didn't deserve to stand here anymore than either of the other Champions did, with all the help he'd had. Cedric was possibly the one who had had it most difficult all through the Tournament, having to hear all the hints from one of the other Champions just because Dumbledore didn't tell them anything like the Headmasters of the other schools did. That, and because the boy was not stupid enough to run straight into the Forbidden Forest like Harry had.
Harry made sure to return to Ron and Hermione soon after he was allowed to leave -thankfully without having to deliver any sudden speeches, for he didn't think he'd have survived that-, only staying up there long enough to hear Fleur's whispered invitation to a last Champion party, this time with only the four of them. Harry had a slight suspicion what it would be about, neither Cedric nor Viktor had looked as if they'd received any grave news, so Fleur must not have handed them the envelopes yet.
He retreated together with his friends, as quietly as he could, trying not to show too obviously that he was carrying a heavy bag with his prize money of 5000 galleons. By the glances Ron threw at it, he didn't entirely succeed. ''So…'' he finally spoke when they returned to the common room, finding it empty. ''Are we all talking again?''
Hermione bit her lip, then nodded slightly. ''I… I'm sorry. I know that I cannot force either of you to watch out for yourselves.''
''Mione, we are perfectly capable of-'' Ron started, groaning slightly.
''Harry nearly got killed several times this year!'' she hissed back instantly.
''Guys, please,'' Harry begged them. ''It's the last week of school, we have no tests anymore, the weather is gorgeous… I honestly do not want to go into the summer holidays knowing that we're not on the same page. So either we forget about it, or we try to speak it out now, but then with no further arguments.''
''Harry,'' the girl spoke with a rather surprised tone. ''That's… rather mature of you.''
He only raised an eyebrow. ''It's barely more than two years before we're of age. I may do stupid things some of the time- okay, a lot of the time,'' he added at her unimpressed look. ''I still went through a lot these past years and I really have gotten sick of constant arguing.'' He wondered if part of his change in mindset was because he'd interacted much more with people who were older than him this year. He'd seen how a diplomatic solution had been much better at the end of this Tournament, and strategic friendships had helped all of the Champions along.
''Fine,'' Ron said, throwing his hands in the air and plopping down on one of the armchairs by the unlit fireplace. ''So to sum things up: Harry was put in the Tournament, we finally know who did it, and the culprit has fled. I do not see why he is in more danger now, now the Tournament is over, and the danger is trying to get away from this castle rather than in it. That's exactly why I am not worried, and I don't think Harry should be getting all panicky either. Moody… or Crouch, was here all year and his stupid plan apparently failed. He's gone now, so what is the problem?''
''The problem, Ronald,'' Hermione started, putting her hands at her hips, ''Is that apparently Crouch had some elaborate plan and purpose for putting Harry through this ordeal. As long as Harry was partaking as a Champion and Crouch undiscovered, he was safe until some chosen moment at the very end. It's a type of ancient magic that large-scale spells are enhanced immensely when the subject of the spell is put through a series of hardships, so Crouch plotted this moment all year. Now his plan failed and he escaped, he'll surely brew up a new plot to off Harry. That's why I am worried.''
''And why at Hogwarts then?'' Ron countered. ''As I said, he fled. He should have stayed if he wanted to get Harry in the castle. All teachers are now on alert. It's more likely that they'll snatch him away from his muggle home and his violent death will happen during the holiday - sorry Harry, just a possibility.''
''Thanks, maybe Crouch will off me before I have to start weeding the garden, that would be neat,'' Harry shrugged, finally sitting down too.
''Harry!'' Hermione cried.
''What? I'm only trying to be optimistic here. Look, none of this is going to happen. I'm not even going to be in England for most of my holiday, rather spending it in France. From what Dixie told me, her house has some impressive security, and even the weeks I am here, it'll be with Sirius who also has a great hiding spot. Unless Crouch somehow figured out the Dursleys' address and is waiting for me on one of the very few days I'll actually be there, and he can slip by whatever security measures will be set in place, I doubt anything can really happen.'' Not that he expected Dumbledore to actually give him extra security, but it was a good way to make his friend relax a bit more.
''You're going to France?'' Ron asked, interested. ''You didn't really tell us about your holiday plans.''
''Don't know anything about yours either,'' he countered. ''It didn't really come up while practising spells and whatnot for the maze. Dixie invited me, saying that, since last year I gave her a tour of England, she is going to guide me around in the area of France she lives in.'' Alright, so Dixie hadn't specifically invited him, but she had been very enthusiastic about him visiting France more than once. He should probably search her out to make sure she actually agreed to his summer plans. ''So, does that satisfy you, Hermione?'' he asked. She was still standing, arms wrapped around her waist and looking very uncertain.
''I… I suppose,'' she answered rather unhappily. ''If you'll excuse me, I still wanted to go see Viktor. He's leaving soon and…'' she tailed off, almost bolting to the portrait when Ron shrugged and Harry gave a nod.
''She's acting strange,'' Ron sighed, frowning. ''Didn't know she was still hanging around with Krum either. Kind of glad that he is leaving soon so things can go back to normal.'' Harry said nothing, pretty sure that Hermione's contact with Krum would not stop only because he was in another country. Ever since Krum had come after her at Yule, Hermione had been spending more and more time with the Bulgarian.
''I also still have some things to do,'' Harry said vaguely. He might as well search Dixie out before trouble would brew up. Over the year, her help had been valuable, even if they hadn't become the closest of friends. It looked like he'd interacted with her enough to make the fading compulsion charms unnoticeable. Under a grumbled protest of Ron, Harry went upstairs and retrieved his invisibility cloak and Marauder's map, spotting Dixie on the Hogwarts grounds where he knew the Beauxbatons carriage to be standing. If only there were pipelines similar to the one leading to the Chamber of Secrets, to easily go to the ground floor from Gryffindor tower... Stuffing the invisibility cloak and the map in his bag for later, Harry climbed through the portrait hole and then began the long, long way down. By the time he was out in the fresh air again, it was shortly after eight o' clock. The party would only start at nine, he recalled, so there was no reason to hurry.
Taking the map again and shooting a quick glance at it, Harry was glad to see that Dixie hadn't moved, still roughly on the spot she'd been before, now with an entire group of students rather than a few. As Harry approached, for a moment he thought that he was back in the first Arena, a gigantic dragon spitting fire spreading its wings making him freeze, until he noticed that it didn't quite look real.
''Over here Harry!'' he heard, and a flushed Dixie ran towards him, dragging him to the group before he could say a word. Harry didn't take his eyes off the dragon, which didn't actually just spit fire.. it was on fire, which burned its wooden frame and the stuffing inside.
''What is that?'' he asked, fascinated by the view.
''Our bonfire! Liza was a few days ago. Ze celebration was postponed because of ze Zird Task,'' Dixie said. ''It is great to see you again.''
''Liza?'' he asked.
''Liza… Lit-a.. Argh, I cannot pronounce it in English Harry. Le solstice d'été!'' she exclaimed as she dragged him to the gigantic, moving fire, where all the other Durmstrang students had now gathered. ''Muggles have called it ze 'Fête de la Saint-Jean' since ze fifz century because Christians tried to root out paganism and placed zeir feast on ze same day. Unfortunately, zey were zorough and even ze magical community has forgotten its original French name by now.''
''So the name comes from?''
''Anglo-Saxon,'' she shrugged. ''Not zat zat is probably ze original name eizer. Some Muggle called Bede in ze eight century came up wiz names for ze pagan calendar in England in his book 'De Tempore Rationum'. We've kind of adopted zose terms after, as have you.''
''How do you know all this?''
''I like history and languages, is zat a crime?'' she joked. ''Come on, let's not waste more time, ze dance is about to start!''
Harry groaned and complained: ''Dance? Why are there always dances involved in these kinds of things? I really don't want-'' he was saved by the other Beauxbatons students, who started to argue with Dixie in quick French as soon as they entered the group. It looked like not everyone was so happy about inviting every outsider who showed up. Looking around, Harry noticed that he didn't see Fleur anywhere. ''I only came here to talk to you for a bit,'' Harry interjected before the discussion could escalate.
It looked like she listened, for Dixie waved off the other students with a few more comments and they went back to what they'd been doing before. ''For me?'' she asked, flipping her blond curls back, smiling. ''Here I thought you came for Fleur.'' A twinge of guilt twisted Harry's stomach. He had been spending a lot more time with Fleur to be honest. ''Is this about our holiday plans?''
Our holiday plans? Harry thought.
Dixie continued without missing a beat. ''I zought we could first just spend a week at my place, we do have a few guest rooms as you know. Mama will be delighted zat I finally bring someone over and has written that she's looking forward to having you. Ze rest of ze time I have nozing really planned, perhaps searching out magical sites? A day trip to Paris is also an option of course.''
''Erhm, yeah, sounds great!'' Harry spoke, wondering if he'd entirely forgotten about some previous conversations. ''Just for the record… when exactly did we plan all this?''
A vague look crossed her face as if she spaced out for a few seconds, then her eyes became bright once more. ''Don't be silly Harry, we've talked about zis several times the past weeks. Don't tell me you changed your plans!''
''Do you… still have your mother's letter?'' he warily asked. She opened her mouth, before, as he had somehow already expected, the same thing happened where her eyes glazed over for a couple of seconds.
''I… must have misplaced it, I'm sure she wrote zough, could tell you word by word what it said.''
Uncomfortable at her confusion, Harry took her hands and tried his best at a genuine smile to ease the girl. ''No, never mind, I'm glad that she's looking forward to my visiting. Can't wait to see what the French countryside is like. I've never been abroad before.'' It had become much easier for him to lie, Harry noticed, a development that he wasn't very pleased about. Sure, he'd been used to lying before, one had to be when growing up at the Dursleys, having to pretend that everything was normal, but he'd always tried to be honest with people he liked. Not that he could do anything in this situation apart from going along with it. To be honest, the teen was rather impressed with Barty for still thinking of giving Harry an excuse for the summer holidays before fleeing Hogwarts. He doubted that Dixie's mother even knew he existed.
He tried saying his goodbyes quickly and watched with a troubled expression as she joined her peers to dance around the burning dragon. He had to get a grip on himself somehow. Instead of taking a direct trip back to the castle, Harry swerved off and found himself after a while at one of the places where the edges of the forbidden forest met the lake, the lights of Hogwarts shining from above on the rock. It was the first view he'd had of the castle he'd called home for several years now, and it never failed to calm him before. The feeling of being at a loss didn't fade this time. The entire school year had been a rush since his name had flown from that cup, leaving him with different matters on his hands than reflecting on his own actions. In a way, he supposed he should be grateful to Voldemort for giving him the Triwizard Tournament as a distraction. Harry honestly didn't know how he would have managed without something else to put his focus on than his questionable life choices.
Not for the first time, the teen wished that he could have been anyone but who he was. If he'd been a regular kid attending Hogwarts, he wouldn't have had to hide his beliefs so much. Many here didn't, Draco Malfoy for example practically prancing around about knowing and liking Dark Magic. The only reason why being associated with the Dark Lord gave trouble was due to the Death Eaters being known murderers and rebellious to the government. Their actual ideas about freedom of all magic and magicians being superior to Muggles was much wider spread than the mere centre that had been under either Voldemort's or Grindelwald direct influence. It was only because he was Harry-bloody-Potter that it would cause an uproar if anyone would get wind of him agreeing to those ideas. Some of them, that was. Muggles were still a rather sore subject for him. He could see that as a whole, they formed a threat to wizard and witches. On an individual level however, their hatred for the 'abnormal' couldn't be as generalised as Voldemort liked to believe. Sirius had even told him that Harry's own grandparents from his mum's side had been ecstatic about having a witch in the family, to the extent of where they neglected their Muggle child.
Honestly, there were few reasons that Harry could think of not to support Voldemort in his current endeavour. The main problem was that, as Sirius said, promises of it being different now would not convince many who'd been around to see the first attempt at the Dark Lord's rule.
''Why did you have to screw it up so much before!'' Harry angrily said, throwing a stone in the lake with as much force as he could muster, then burying his hands in his hair. If it had been anyone else than Voldemort, things would be going far smoother. It wasn't such a radical idea to move away from Muggles and practice magic as they pleased, was it? The bad reputation that clung to those ideas were all on the way the man had tried to reach it before. Had Voldemort really died that night, Magic might have chosen a new Lord to fix the state they were in now. But no, he just had to tie himself to this world and resurrect, preventing anyone else from cleaning up his mess. Harry wasn't certain if he found it admirable or stupid that Voldemort went through with his efforts after already having lost the trust of the majority of their population. Bastard.
Slumping down on the hard clumps of grass and dirt, Harry started up at the twinkling stars with a feel of defeat. It was all good and well that Voldemort attempted it now with disguises and sneaking in laws, Harry sarcastically thought. Due to the mess that had been the last wizarding war, there would be a backlash as soon as anyone figured out who was pulling the strings. And then even the man's promise of not wishing another war would be pointless, for others would start it for him. Even now, the Order of the Phoenix was gathering since there had been notable Death Eater activity and mysterious disappearances. Voldemort wasn't making it any better by killing people either. Harry wished that he could put his conflict in better words. Even to himself, he had to admit that his sense of loyalty to the murderer of his parents was disturbing, especially when said murderer kept at it. There was just something about the man that spoke of so much more that Harry couldn't help but admire. Voldemort's drive and passion, the way he cared even when never admitting it in so many words, the humanity that lay beneath the surface which the older wizard had fought so hard to acquire. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to recall all the memories and felt his lips twitch into a smile. All the terror at the start had been worth it to spend those peaceful, safe evenings. Harry had been part of something greater then…
He absolutely did not regret joining Voldemort for himself, but whenever he looked at the faces of his friends and the people he'd come to consider as family, Harry realised that he wouldn't be able to go on much longer with lying to them. Not without breaking. Considering the fact that he still had three years left at Hogwarts and no idea when Voldemort would start making his moves rather than sitting holed up in his house, that was going to be complicated at best. He groaned slightly, wondering how he'd come to the point of self-reflection, something he didn't usually do. Ironically, the only place where he had lots of time to think things over normally was in his bedroom of privet Drive number 4, whenever he was forced to stay in his room with nothing else to keep him busy apart from his own mind.
He kept lying there for a good while still, occasionally brushing off some pesky insects or spiders. As long as they didn't grow to Acromantula size, he really didn't care much for arachnids. He'd had enough of the things to keep him company in the cupboard under the stairs to resist developing the same phobia for them that most people tended to have. The night deepened as Harry was lost in vague memories of last summer and of intangible dreams that he could only recall bits and pieces of. No matter his own opinions on it, Harry came to the conclusion that there would always be something connecting Voldemort and him. And when he couldn't run from it in the first place, it was much healthier that he'd stopped resisting the Dark Lord. Who knew, perhaps he might even live past seventeen now, which he hadn't counted on before.
''Oh shit,'' he suddenly spoke, sitting up abruptly. The teen scrambled for his wand and cast a Tempus. Upon realising that he was quite a bit late for the party he'd been invited to, Harry started to run along the edge of the lake best he could in the darkness. Only the lights of the castle above illuminated the traitorous slippery stones. In the meantime, he cursed himself for never learning cleaning charms, for his robes were most definitely not acceptable, covered as they were in dirt and wet grass stains. It turned out that he hadn't need worry, for the other Champions were in a too heated discussion to notice his appearance when he finally entered Broc Abode.
'''e impressed me, not a light feat,'' Fleur spoke, chin held up high.
''Press is press,'' Viktor argued, holding up a familiar brown envelope before throwing it straight in the fireplace.
''Not all journalists have to be bad people.''
Someone else than expected had spoken, and it was then that Harry noticed that there was actually one more person here than should be. Hermione gave Viktor a sharp look as he turned towards her, his head inclined to show that he was listening. ''I admit, a head editor who sounds like he bought up two major newspapers fits the corporate stereotype a tad too much to not be suspicious of him. And yet, we cannot deny that he has gathered and kept evidence on topics that may well cost him his head, evidence produced by other, individual journalists who were punished for attempting what this Mr Noctua is doing right now. I realise that reporters have not been your most favourite people since you became a professional Quidditch player, but instantly denying that their influence can also be positive is a bit too short-sighted. How was your impression of his personality, Delacour?'' she asked, then shook her hair out of her face and happened to look to the left, where Harry was still standing awkwardly in the door opening. ''Harry!'' she exclaimed, a smile blooming on her face. ''What did you do this time, you look like you wrestled in the mud!''
''Hello to you too,'' Harry grinned. ''I'd hug you but I'm afraid that it would ruin your robes.''
Hermione merely rolled her eyes and got up to draw him into a tight hug. ''I'm sure my clothes have endured worse. A bit of grass is nothing compared to Cerberus drool.'' Harry struggled to keep his face straight at the mention of Fluffy.
''Right. So, Fleur gave you both those letters too?'' he asked, sitting down and looking at the one that was turning to ashes in the fire. ''May I ask what was in there?''
''Something no-one should have known about,'' Viktor muttered, eyes shooting fire, making Harry all the more curious. Well, perhaps Voldemort would tell him if he asked.
''For me, it's medical records,'' Cedric spoke. He had been leaning against one of the tables, staring at the contents with a frown during the previous talk. ''I had suspected but… to see it black on white is…'' he struggled to form words, then looked at Harry with sadness in his eyes. ''My only aunt, my dad's sister, died of dragon pox. I absolutely adored her and she died far too young. Dad has never been the same after. This…'' he waved the papers around. ''Confirms what I already thought as a small child. Magic can heal anything in time, there are no incurable diseases. A cure for dragon pox has been found decades ago.''
Confused, Harry went towards him and looked at the papers in Cedric's hands, which consisted of lists and lists of medical terms Harry couldn't do much with. ''Then why do they not use it?'' he asked, bewildered. Hermione next to them gave a short, sad laugh.
''Funding,'' she spoke. ''As long as they claim to have something to research, people will spend money on the hospital and their faculties.''
''Can't the Ministry-'' he started, breaking off when she shook her head.
''I've looked much into how this society works when I first became a part of it. Money is a massive problem. Why do you think that everyone in the Ministry is so easily swayed by bags of gold? We are an incredibly small society, and governments usually get their money from taxes and other fees. But what is there in this world that can be taxed other than sold wares? Many wizards build their own homes on land that is often bought or even stolen from Muggles. We are also capable of maintaining it by ourselves using magic, sometimes even for centuries on end. Travel, too, can be accomplished without use of any objects, by apparition. The only thing they can actually tax heavily is the wages of their people… what doesn't help is that the Ministry and its public institutions are the main employers in our world. Whatever money they may keep from the wages, it is a fact that they actually have to pay more. As a result, they can hardly afford anything. Taking credits from Gringotts is also not going to work as much as it does in the Muggle world, where major banks sometimes even write off part of the debts when it comes to entire countries. Goblins would never. We don't have public libraries, theatres or museums for this very reason. There's only a handful of people rich enough to build these things privately and few do.
Thus, the few institutions that we do have such as Hogwarts or St. Mungo's, scramble to get enough funding. Hogwarts solves it with high attendance fees, employing few staff and exploiting slave labour. St. Mungo's cannot do the same. The Ministry doesn't have enough to allocate money towards the hospital, and they cannot simply turn poor people away at their doorstep. The Wizarding world may be stuck in the seventeenth century with most things, the good of the people is a value that even here is thankfully still upheld. We may not have a National Health Insurance like in Muggle Britain, the hospital still waives the bills of those who couldn't possibly pay for it. Ron told me that Charlie landed in the hospital a few times due to his early love for dangerous animals, and Fred and George also had a few misfired pranks and accidental magic in their childhood. Since they were too poor to afford medical care, had the hospital denied them entry, Molly and Arthur might have three children less by now. So, since the managers can't in good conscious privatise St. Mungo's, they rely on donations mostly. There is a large fountain in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic in which money can be thrown to support the hospital. One motivation to keep getting support is to pretend that they are close to breakthroughs all the time. This leads to some illnesses and curses still being categorised as 'incurable' when they are not, which is of course not a moral thing to do, but better than the alternative of not having a hospital at all.''
''It is still wrong,'' Cedric softly spoke. ''And entirely unfair to those people who have to pay the price with their life just because the Ministry cannot find other ways to fund them.''
''True, but unless there is another good option, I doubt they'll have a choice.''
Harry cleared his throat. ''So what happens if this comes to light? As you said, the Ministry cannot give money that they don't have. You're saying that, should the people riot against these practises, St. Mungo's might cease to exist altogether?''
''Unless they find a different source of income or are privatised, yes. Another option might be trying to set up secret rooms for magicians in existing Muggle hospitals so only the staff needs to be paid, but that could risk the Statute of Secrecy being broken.''
''Zis is not only a British problem eizer,'' Fleur interjected. ''We must 'ave ze same problems in France, ozerwise we would 'ave zose cures too.''
All of them let that sink in for a while. Fleur made as good point: should the cure to any of these 'incurable illnesses' be discovered anywhere in the world and made public, news would rapidly spread. ''Merlin'' Harry breathed. ''You mean to say that this is an international conspiracy to keep all of our hospitals running? That is… insane!''
''The truth in this world is often insane, I've found,'' Hermione muttered to herself.
Cedric resolutely shoved the lists back in his envelope and put in on the table. ''This cannot continue for much longer, it's a miracle that it didn't blow up long ago. We cannot close our eyes to the injustices of this world for something as stupid as money. If this is really happening in every country, it becomes time that a new solution is found, even if it is risky. I've never met this Noctua fellow, but if I can help in any way, I'll do everything I can. I will not let innocent people die because the Ministry can't get their finances in order. Donations cannot hold the hospital up forever either.''
Viktor made a disgruntled noise. Whatever he'd received, it had soured his mood completely. ''I don't vant to get much involved vith the press,'' he stated. ''Vhich is vhy I am not giving my voice to this person. However, if you three are going to fight for your causes, I'll gladly be a background influencer. I don't hav anything to spend the money on that Harry and Fleur promised me, so I will not accept your offer to receive a share. Perhaps you hav better use spending it to try and keep legal charges off your backs.'' Harry smiled, it looked like Fleur had been very adamant about giving them their share as well. Even though he now returned it, at least Krum had had the choice.
''I'll accept the part you promised me,'' Cedric spoke, looking down. ''As much as donations aren't the answer, perhaps this prize money will keep St. Mungo's running for a bit longer while we're trying to improve it.''
Harry kept silent, not wanting to admit that his money was going to the Weasley twins. He doubted that any of them, bar Hermione perhaps, would understand. Well, if Voldemort would need any financial support for these smear campaigns against the government, Harry still possessed a full vault.
''Zen it is decided. I, 'Arry and Cedric shall contact Mr Noctua again and count on you,'' she addressed Viktor, ''for any support you are willing to give.'' She also gave Hermione a look, frowning a bit, apparently changing her mind and deciding not to say anything at all. Which might be for the better, Hermione was not one to appreciate others deciding what she could or couldn't do. Waving her wand, Fleur summoned a few mugs and bottles. ''As much as I prefer French, strong drinks, zis is our last day at Hogwarts,'' she said, a slight smile tugging at her lips. ''I'll miss Butterbeer.'' Harry, quite relieved to not have anything stronger, filled up the mugs and passed them around.
''You are leaving already then?'' he asked with interest. ''Hogwarts is still open for a couple of days.''
''Yes, but zere are also still some zings to take care of at Beauxbatons. We are only a small delegation, Madame Maxime couldn't possibly leave the staff to their own devices on the very last week of term. Not to mention zat we all still 'ave to take our final exams, alzough Madame Maxime ensured us zat we can do zat in ze first week of ze official 'oliday zis year. And for the Durmstrang students… well.'' She trailed off, raising her eyebrows.
Viktor merely gave a gruff sound, then said: ''Karkaroff.'' They all hummed in sympathy, Harry also unsure what to add to that. It must be difficult for the students to have been basically abandoned by their Headmaster and make the trip back on their own. They might all be adults now, they were also still all at school. Hermione went towards her boyfriend and hugged his side, head pressed against Viktor's shoulder. It must be all the more difficult for the both of them to part, Harry realised. Still, he was certain that their bond had grown strong enough since Yule to survive distance.
The cheer they all gave was a silent promise to hold together even when countries apart, and at the same time Harry could feel the apprehension in the air, for none of them would have an easy path ahead.
So, the last days at Hogwarts for this school year are finally there, and another meeting with Voldemort is drawing closer!
Please read and Review,
xx GeMerope