Happy Hunger Games!
Well, I've finally reached the First Task. It was starting to feel like I would never get there. That's what writing chapter to chapter gets you I guess.
I'm saddened to say a personal matter has come up that I have to deal with. I'm NOT putting the story on hold but I won't be able to get to it for at least a month. As a fanfic reader myself, trust that I hate it when stories are abandoned as much as you all do. I will not abandon, but this is heavy family stuff I have to take care of. My apologies in advance.
This chapter really turned me around trying to find the right/exciting direction. It was a tough on to consider, so I hope you all enjoy it and please let me know what you think. Thanks!
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-=REVISED 7/26/2023=-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Since I finished my other fic, Chain of Ascension, I have more time and I thought I'd do some simple revisions-mostly grammar stuff, but also including changing the narrative from present tense to simple past tense. Hopefully, it's a better read this way.
Enjoy!
The First Task
"Good day, champions," Ludo Bagman called, after theatrically tossing back the flaps of the champion's tent. Behind Ludovic Bagman stood Headmaster Dumbledore, Undersecretary Umbridge, Headmaster Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom stood by the entrance, well out of the way but ready to take Harry as soon as the task was explained to the champions. Standing beside them was Perenelle, with whom Alice Longbottom couldn't seem to stop chatting. As a 'minor,' Harry needed his guardian present while he gave his statement, which worked out well, given Harry's plans.
The judges made their way toward the three nervous champions and the napping Harry with a Phoenix on a stand. "Gather around, please, gather around," Bagman happily invited. When they all gathered, Bagman began, "Now, you've waited, you've wondered, and at last, the moment has arrived. A moment only the four of you can fully appreciate. It is finally time to learn what the first task of this historic Triwizard Tournament will demand from each of you."
Mumbling to himself, "Mnn, let's see," Bagman moved the champions in the order by which they would enter the arena, Krum beside Bagman with Karkaroff behind his champion, Fleur next to Krum with Maxime behind her, Harry beside Fleur, and Hardwin to close the loose circle. Harry was grateful Dumbledore didn't dare stand behind him, however, he found it interesting he didn't stand behind Hardwin either, who looked very nervous. Bagman then opened a purple suede pouch containing the dragons for each of the champions.
A grim Viktor Krum slowly inserted his hand and retrieved the Chinese Fireball Dragon—as he had in the previous timeline, Harry noted. A tense Fleur Delacour cautiously dipped a delicate, gloved hand in the pouch and retrieved the same dragon she had previously as well, the Welsh Green. Bagman revolved the sack toward a very bored Slytherin. As Nova curiously peered into the bag from overhead, Harry idly wondered what would happen if he decided to leave it to chance. Would he still get the Hungarian Horntail this time?
In his time off, Harry had done a little light reading on souls for any clues as to what might have become of the Horcrux in his head. A theory he came across in 'Anima Ion' by a potioneer Svantes Agustus stated that the soul superseded the preeminence of Death and Time, as well as had an ability to bond with other souls in order to fully stabilize its outer form. The principle theory came under a lot of scrutiny, however, Harry felt it had some merit. It would explain why even in this timeline, Hermione, Fleur, Luna, Hedwig, and even Dobby's souls had managed to find their way back to his, or his to theirs—to stabilize one another.
'Bonding with a Hungarian Horntail seems less stable than that theory suggests,' he mused to himself.
Deciding not to satisfy that intellectual curiosity, Harry shamelessly dipped his hand in the suede pouch and took out both remaining miniature dragons by their tails, causing the adults to panic and cry out, "Only one, Mr. Flamel!" Harry ignored them as he gave Hardwin the smaller Swedish Short-snout, keeping the Hungarian for himself. Hardwin wasn't sure what to say, sputtering instead, "What bloody gives?"
With bored, yet, challenging eyes, Harry stared at the judges, waiting in silence for them to dispute his actions in any way. Bagman simply exhaled and shrugged as the others looked from one to another for any objections. While Umbridge was trembling slightly from repressing her clear outrage, the majority seemed apathetic to his constant defiance, which really worried him. After all, how could Harry continue to be a rebel if they just accepted his antics without much fuss?
Slightly less jovial, Bagman continued. "These represent four very real dragons which have been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple: collect the egg. This you must do, for within each egg contains a clue, without which you cannot hope to proceed to the next task."
Harry turned to Sirius and Perenelle, expecting the sound of cannon fire to mark the beginning of the task, however, Bagman continued. "That is your task. However, in light of the unusual circumstances by which a second champion has been added to a single school, additional procedures had to be included to balance the playing field for participating schools as well as aid our judges in fairly deciding how best to award points."
'That's different,' Harry mentally cautioned, instantly becoming more alert. Perenelle, Sirius, and Alice moved a little closer to hear this new revelation themselves.
"To better understand," Dumbledore began to state. "There are four champions with a total point gain of fifty points, but there are three schools. It means that even if you all attain perfect scores, Hogwarts would still have a fifty point advantage. The Headmaster and Headmistress of participating schools have rightly pointed out how unfair this is."
"It has been discussed among all of the judges, at great length," Bagman announced. "Right or wrong, Hogwarts does have two champions, and thus twice the chance of winning the tournament. This is indeed unfair to Beauxbaton and Durmstrang. Let no one claim that Britain cannot be impartial," he added with a little ire. It seemed to Harry this must've been frustrating for Bagman.
A childlike, "Hem-Hem," alarmed the room like a stabbing chill running up a spine as Umbridge stated, "In deference to our International relations with Beauxbaton and Durmstrang, it has been decided, with Ministry approval, that Hogwarts will begin each task with a deficit."
Harry and Hardwin glanced at each other a short moment before Dumbledore continued. "The manner by which the deficit is decided on will be half of the accumulation of points between Beauxbaton and Durmstrang. Mr. Krum will enter the arena first, followed by Miss Delacour. Half of the total points awarded to them, will be the deficit Misters Flamel and Potter must work to overcome. For clarity's sake, should Mr. Krum and Miss Delacour total eighty points—forty each, let's assume—then Hogwarts will begin with a forty point deficit. Additionally, should both Hogwarts champions only earn thirty points each, exceeding the fifty point limit, only the best score will remain."
"How is this supposed to be fair?" Hardwin blurted out, looking as if betrayed. "We weren't even supposed to be in this tournament to begin with! We're fourteen! And now we have to work twice as hard just to break even?!"
"It is quite simple, boy," Karkaroff spouted. "You and Flamel only need a small amount of points for Hogwarts to earn vhat my champion must vork even harder to gain himself. It has been unfair from dhe beginning and now vhen some measure of fairness is implemented, you seek to profane injustice-"
"Now, Igor," Dumbledore called, placing a calming palm on his shoulder. "I'm sure all our champions are feeling a great amount of pressure at the moment. After all, we've just informed them they are to do battle with a dragon. No simple task, to say the least. Wouldn't you agree?"
Karkaroff held his tongue, though his face was quite indignant as Bagman continued, "In addition, a small measure of leeway has been approved to assist Hogwarts. Mr. Flamel will join Mr. Krum and Miss Delacour in their task. Not to assist in any way. I repeat, not to assist you. However, should Mr. Krum or Miss Delacour be unable to retrieve their egg, Mr. Flamel is given the option to retrieve it for them, an act which will then be awarded points to further assist Hogwarts deficit."
"Why him and not me?" Hardwin asked, though the answer seemed fairly clear to everyone.
Harry wondered if Hardwin was stressing too much to know exactly how he felt. Hardwin seemed to be all over the place as Harry recalled this Boy-Who-Lived likely didn't face Quirrell as he had in his timeline, certainly didn't face a Basilisk to save Ginny, or a horde of dementors in his third year. Hardwin had no choice but to feel higher levels of fear, unlike anything he'd felt before.
"The panel of judges took a vote as to which Hogwarts champion would be, what we refer to as, the Option. Mr. Flamel was appointed to this position with a three to two vote." Something told Harry that Maxime and Karkaroff would prefer Hardwin over himself. Dumbledore and Umbridge obviously wanted to continue to challenge Harry, whereas Bagman likely thought it was too dangerous for Hardwin.
Bagman turned his attention to Harry to affirm the conditions. "Mr. Flamel, should the other champions be unable to acquire their prize, you are under no obligation to do so, as you have your own Dragon to face. However, you must indeed enter and stay until it is your turn. The two reasons being, the precautionary measures that have been put in place to protect the audience from any dangers within."
'I suppose that makes sense,' Harry mused. He had found it odd that the only sort of protection the audience had during his timeline was the chained manacle around the dragon's neck, which was no protection at all as the beast effortlessly busted the chain to chase after him. 'You'd think after a rampaging cockatrice had killed so many of the spectators in the previous tournament, they would make sure the audience would be safe this time around. Wizard logic…'
"And the other reason," Bagman explained, "is, as per the enchanted judgment of the Goblet and thus the task, once you enter you may not leave until you've either failed or succeeded in your task."
"So, I have to go in with Krum, right now, and I have to stay in until I get my own egg?" Harry simplified, looking from Bagman to the waiting Sirius and Alice Longbottom, to the eerily stoic Perenelle, to a widely grinning Umbridge.
From the outskirts of the room, Sirius stepped forward in light of what this meant, informing, "Mr. Bagman, he can't go in now. Our department needs him to answer some questions at the moment."
"Well, you will simply have to wait, Auror Black," Bagman told Sirius. "He must enter momentarily."
"You don't understand," Sirius tried again with a stern expression. "A statement has been scheduled before interested Wizengamot members minutes from now. He must be there."
"Oh, that is quite the blunder on your part, I must say. Who would possibly schedule a deposition today, of all days?" Bagman returned, clearly out of the loop as far as what was going on.
"Oh my," Umbridge happily sympathized, turning behind her to give a curt wave. A moment later, the senior Carrow twins entered as Umbridge sorrowfully stated, "This is most unfortunate. Crimes must be answered for, however, you dishonor yourself by clamoring for glory that was not yours to begin with-"
"How could you be so petty?" Perenelle spat, interrupting the pink toad as she marched toward Umbridge with tight fists. Harry stepped in between the two, keeping Perenelle from doing anything reckless as Umbridge held the Carrows back with a hand. Sirius stepped forward with his wand drawn as Hardwin, Krum, Bagman, and Maximee—holding an irate Fleur—all step aside. Though physically held back, Perenelle continued to yell, "Don't think I haven't come across a vile cretin like you a time or two! A witch, so inconsequential in any way that matters, she foolishly takes out her misplaced frustrations on the world all because you weren't destined to be the next Merlin-"
"Oh, dear, how hurtful of you, Lady Flamel, to say such unforgivable things," Umbridge revealed, pressing her sausage hand to her chest as if wounded. "Why, you must see I had no ill intentions here-"
"You're really not doing yourself any favors," Harry coldly cut in, though no longer holding Perenelle back, he still felt her hands on his free shoulder. In between the two women, Harry coldly informed Umbridge, "If I didn't have another sadistic fuck to deal with, I guarantee you: you would've had my undivided attention. But as you mean so little to me, you only get so little." Harry looked to both Dumbledore and Umbridge. "Do either of you know why I'm not out of my mind enraged about your silly little schemes and pathetic little plots?" Turning to Umbridge, he simplified, "arrest me if I stay, lose my magic if I go." Turning to Dumbledore, further explaining, "do as I say or my Phoenix stays bound. Because neither of you see me. The both of you are about as blind as a muggle showing a wizard how to do magic. Eyes are open but you can't see that I am not a simple fourteen-year-old prodigy, a murderer, or even an heir. You egomaniacs cannot teach me, win my favor, or bend me to your justice, because to you I may as well be prophecy. Formless but for the cavity of your own downfall and you're both filling it, greedily."
Harry whipped his white wand in his hand, still sternly eying both Dumbledore and Umbridge. "And it'll be my greatest pleasure to show you how your every decision will only bring you that much closer to ruin." Nova on his shoulder, Harry turned, placing a comforting hand on Perenelle's shoulder before walking toward the long staircase that led to the base of the arena. He called out behind him, "Krum. Let's go."
"Ares," Perenelle called, but they both knew it was best if Harry ignored her as he began descending the steps. She turned to Umbridge and point-blank proclaimed, "We will defend him."
As Krum descended the stairs, the judges began to leave to take their seat. Umbridge left instructions with Alecto and Amycus to wait to arrest him. Fleur, Hardwin, and Sirius moved to Perenelle with clear concern, but before any of them could express their sentiment, she put her hand up, almost lazily, and easily told them, "Just one moment, please."
Less than a minute later, Harry returned from the descending steps, citing, "I've had a change of heart." He turned to an unsure Sirius, telling him, "Let's go."
"But your magic," Alice called from beside Perenelle.
"If I don't go in, my magic shouldn't be affected," Harry told them. "Just bring me back in time."
Alecto stepped forward, demanding of Harry, "You will be required to surrender your wand," before turning to Sirius and demanding, "as Wizengamot officers, we will be escorting-"
"How could you possibly believe it's standard procedure to surrender his wand to give a statement?" Alice Longbottom asked, stepping beside Sirius.
The head Auror easily explained, "I've more than had it with these games, Alecto. As lead investigator of this case, I, under the authority of Madam Bones, Head of Law Enforcement, have jurisdictional command and will escort Heir Flamel to the Ministry to give his statement. Now, bugger off before I start thinking of using all the authority vested in me as Head Auror and Lord Black to thoroughly investigate how the Carrow family truly earn their living."
Alecto and Amycus glared menacingly as Sirius took the portkey he sequestered out. Perenelle had a hand on Harry's free shoulder when Alice invited them closer to depart.
Though clearly irate, Alecto took his twin sister's hand, and inform them, "We will meet you there to provide additional security," before they removed their own portkey and teleported away.
"I have a feeling they'll have hours worth of questions," Harry stated, to which Perenelle added, "Anything to delay us as long as possible."
"That won't happen," Sirius confidently told them. "I won't let it," he sternly said before they disappeared.
—
Visible from within the small stone alcove entrance was the golden egg, a good distance away at the center of the wide rocky arena on top of a rock-like platform. Now that Harry was in it, he didn't actually recall ever seeing the matches of the Champions or their dragons. Krum's dragon wasn't within line-of-sight; however, the wizards could hear the feral screech of the Chinese Fireball and the cheer of the crowd immediately afterward. Conscious of his mental countdown, Harry smacked Krum on the shoulder and wished him, "good luck," before walking forward.
"You must not help," Krum stated, moving forward, stopping Harry from walking further.
Harry shrugged Krum's thick hand away and harshly told him, "I'm not planning on helping you, at all. So stop focusing on me and get your head in the game."
Apparently, Krum only needed to hear the words because the Bulgarian turned even more fierce, smacking his chest with his fist, chanting for purpose and drive before heatedly stomping out into the arena, wand at the ready. Harry rolled his eyes before picking up a rock and walking out of the rocky recess of the entrance.
On top of being very cold for November, the day was gray with bits of sunlight peeking through the clouds. The entire arena for the first task was still built on the side of a small, rocky mountain a good mile from the castle. After the audience explanation by Dumbledore and subsequent cannon fire, Krum cautiously stepped farther out into the rocky area as Harry and Nova surveyed everything before them. This arena was not quite identical to the one from his timeline, the notable difference being the space to battle the dragon was twice as wide, and the audience gallery was almost twice as high as before.
On the surface of a large boulder was the Chinese Fireball, a red and black lizard with wings made of a leathery membrane and long sharp talons. It was certainly a dragon but didn't look nearly as fearsome as the Hungarian Horntail. From the entrance to the arena, the Fireball was on the left of the egg, so Harry strolled to the right and away from what was sure to be a grudge match.
A loud roar behind him vibrated his chest in an unsettling way before the crowd jeered and cried out for magical combat. Krum actually roared back, spurring the crowd further and causing Harry to reevaluate Krum's sanity. Walking away from the action, he expanded a rock then flattened it into a round disk he could sit on. Controlling the lift and direction, a seated Harry slowly levitated higher and higher into the air as he listlessly watched Krum combat the Fireball with water; testing brute resilience against feral resilience.
Judging Krum to do a fair enough job, if not inefficient, Harry rotated the disk to look around the gallery for his friends to help pass the time. Moving closer to the cheering, he realized there was a large multitude of people coming and going, hollering and cheering, clapping, or waving signs than he imagined. A flash of light easily located the Creevey brothers. In the only part of the arena that was covered by a tent, he found the five judges, Minister Fudge, Lucius Malfoy with half of the Governors, Rita Skeeter, Stéphane, Gabrielle, and Apolline, a couple he could only assume were Krum's parents, and oddly enough, Horace Slughorn and Gilderoy Lockhart. Each of the houses, the professors, and other strangers filled the rest of the available seats, and Harry wondered if there were more people this time than there were last time.
'Probably didn't notice as I was too busy trying not to get killed,' he mentally reasoned as he finally spotted his friends. They were on the other end of the arena, a little close to the Chinese Fireball than he'd like. As if proving him right, a ball of black smoking fire was hurled toward the stands, and as promised, the runes surrounding the edge halted and spread the sizzling lethal ball of flames as if hitting an invisible wall, keeping all observers from any danger. Harry wasn't overly worried, levitating a little higher, closer to the invisible barrier he continued his overhead journey. When the girls noticed him heading toward them, they moved to the wood railing, waving him over when a dull reflection of white caught Harry's eye.
Unlike sparkles, camera flash, or bright candlelight, this simple, yet constant, flickering of redirected light from the mostly cloud-covered sun above was beckoning. Standing not three meters from Daphne, Hermione, Tracey, and Luna was a short student—likely a first-year judging by the height—in Hufflepuff colors, wearing a mask and cloak. The flap of the cloak was open far enough to allow weak sunlight to reflect into his green eyes off the surface of a finely polished dagger. Harry's entire body was immediately on alert, his eyes expeditiously began assessing every possible threat within his vision.
Harry was easily aided in his threat assessment, for his immediate halt was all the notice the knife-wielding Hufflepuff needed to close their cloak before another flash of dull reflection caught his sharp green eyes. Splitting his attention, Harry was alerted to a second short, cloaked, and masked figure sporting Gryffindor colors on the other side of his friends. A similar lavish gold and silver knife was abruptly hidden the moment Harry was aware of its existence, and its purpose. It was clear the target of this ominous threat was his friends as a third flicker of light alerted a heavily breathing Harry to a third, short knife-wielder in Ravenclaw colors on the stairs directly behind the girls.
The triple-threat in playful decorative masks blended in well among the jeering crowd surrounding them and the girls. However, Harry knew the excited bystanders were not simply for camouflage. They may not be intended targets, but Harry didn't discount the possibility that they might also become casualties of whatever this was.
"Watch out!" Hermione yelled the same moment Harry felt the rising temperature burn the short hairs on the back of his neck. Without thinking, Harry felt the direction and angle of the rising heat behind him and rolled forward and off the stone disk as a quaffle-sized ball of fire nearly flayed his entire backside. Despite the trail of black smoke showering him, his left hand snatched the edge of the levitating disk, holding on as the crowd noisily 'oohs' at the near hit. The ball of flames struck the invisible barrier a few feet above Harry with enough impact to nearly rupture his eardrums, making him woozy from the concussive reverberation.
Though a little hazy with a slight cough, Harry wasn't worried about himself as he effortlessly held his weight with one hand gripping the edge using habitually developed strength from his physical conditioning. Nova, however, fell off his shoulder to the rocky terrain below. She managed to flap her wide dark wings before landing roughly on the hard ground. Harry couldn't worry about her as he pulled himself back onto the platform. Looking a few feet above at the hissing white steam born of extreme heat meeting extreme cold, Harry wondered what more the protective barrier would stop from reaching the benches.
Unable to discreetly pull on Hermione's scarf with wandless and wordless magic, Harry looked below him to survey Krum's progress. To Harry, it felt as if Krum had been battling the dragon for half a day already before he returned his attention to the triple threat ahead. They'd moved closer to the concerned Daphne, Hermione, Luna, and Tracey. Before, there were five or so witches and wizards between this threat and his friends, now there were only three. At the mere implication of what these knife-wielders might do, Harry whipped his white wand in hand.
The Hufflepuff offender brought up his right palm, instructing Harry to 'hold on,' as Harry noticed the gray skin tone and sharp nails. Harry didn't retract his wand, but he didn't move farther as the inhuman hand grabbed his mask by its eye holes and lifted to reveal the long sharp nose and pitch-black eyes of a Dark Goblin. Its wide toothy grin instantly put Harry on edge. Just then, another wizard between the Goblin and Luna left, allowing the diminutive cut-throat to take an additional step toward her.
Harry's eyes immediately burned brightly, killer green, and the Goblin smiled, its tongue salivating its lips before sliding his mask down again. Harry easily took in the magical makeup of the species and noted its pattern was different than Flitwick's and very different from normal wizards. The reverberating charge was slower, yet heavier, giving Harry the impression of stone, and while the shape of all three cut-throats was similar, the Hufflepuff Goblin was clearly the strongest.
The Goblin moved a step away again, obviously showcasing how easy it would be to injure his friends. Unable to leave the arena and behind a barrier that even blocked non-threatening magic, Harry was stuck, and they knew it. The girls grew confused, talking to one another about his sudden grimness and eyes, looking about as their imagination warned them of a possible threat from afar, completely missing the decoratively masked threat among them.
Thoughts of warning them were interrupted when a fourth masked Goblin in Slytherin colors suddenly appeared behind the Hufflepuff Goblin, whispering something Harry only managed to hear as, "Not here." The Hufflepuff nodded and brought its attention back to Harry. The Goblin slid up his mask enough to show its mouth, asking in a low voice, "Can you hear me?" Harry simply nodded. "Wonderful," it smiled before sliding down his mask again. In a low muffle, the Dark Goblin added, "It saves one of your cherished females from the unavoidable pain of leaving you a message."
"What message?" Harry spoke just as low.
Clearly, their ears weren't just for show, as the Goblin responded, "Where are your parents?"
"Doing laundry," Harry casually lied, focusing on searching for any advantage.
"Of course, to answer me truthfully would be to submit, and the eyes before me rage in clear defiance," he said. He tilted his head, and the Ravenclaw Goblin moved down a step closer to Daphne. It was only one step but enough to constrict Harry's chest painfully, elevate his heart rate like it had been shoved in his throat, and tighten his stomach like nausea before vomiting. "Defiance will cost you greatly, little wizard."
"Who are you?" Harry tried to ask, thinking conversation was preferable to the alternative.
As Harry pondered a plan that didn't involve magic or leaving the arena, the Hufflepuff Goblin answered, "We are but shadows. And shadows have no name."
"Then who should I thank for casting you?" Harry asked.
"… King Vorkalth," The Hufflepuff Goblin answered.
"If you intended on killing them, they would be dead," Harry spoke, noticing the girls beginning to track Harry's line of sight. "The fact that they're not dead means you want something."
"The lives of these females are at the mercy of your cooperation," the Goblin responded. "The wretched House of Flamel is well known among my kind—well researched. You each hide like insects beneath a decaying log, for decades if need be. It has been decided you must know of the consequences should your family decide to leave once more. That is why these witches and their families have value; your attention. For all that, we must also prove the metal of our word and four is unnecessarily many. One will die, little wizard. Before the day is out, I promise you-"
"You're dark goblins," Harry interrupted, though his voice was low, his aggression was palpable. Wondering what was taking Krum so long, Harry continued, "I know enough to understand what your word means to you, to your kind. I'm no different, and I promise you any one of their lives is worth more than your entire race." Harry couldn't even feel the bone or flesh of his body, his lungs or thoughts. He was raw emotion, weightless of anything else but pure determination as his eyes glowed the brightest green, reinforcing in words, "you harm them, in any way, I will murder every last one of you. I will reign down a Godly fucking pestilence of death upon you and yours should you even think proving the metal of your word matters any more than their lives."
"One. Will. Die-"
"Then you all die!" Harry growled, marveling at how much information his eyes were taking in. Not only could he see temperature variations in the atmosphere and in everybody before him, but he could also infer magical atmosphere—the so-called residual magic—like color evaporating from red to blue. That didn't even compare to suddenly being able to see through clothes and even skin.
A large and impressive harmony of frightened gasps erupted from the crowd in such unison, Harry wondered if Krum was killed by the dragon, yet he didn't dare look away. Even if he wouldn't turn his view below him, his hyper-observant eyes registered the faintest metallic mist of red that his mind somehow inferred was blood.
The Hufflepuff Goblin casually looked down a moment before returning his attention to Harry. The Dark Goblin wasn't the only one looking at him. Every pair of eyes was staring at him in frozen awe as the Goblin stated, "I'm curious to learn if Phoenixes can resurrect from within the acid stomach of a dragon. A never-ending cycle of life and rebirth inside a dragon's stomach."
Though conceptually, Harry knew he was saying the Chinese Fireball ate Nova, he continued to maintain ferocious eye contact. Daphne held a crying Tracey close as Hermione hugged Luna. The crowd was so quiet, Harry could easily hear the crunch of bone underneath a strong jaw.
"Your eyes do not waver," the Dark Goblin easily noted. "These feeble females mean more to you than the power of your legendary familiar?" The Goblin leaned forward as if hoping Harry might answer; he didn't. "Mnn, yes, that is valuable intelligence to have."
After a dozen seconds of distraught silence from the crowd at large, grunts from Krum, and shuffling of hard, heavy mineral against a large dragon, a unanimous uproar erupted from half the stadium before Dumbledore was heard, "the battle was fierce and hard-fought… and despite the awful, tragic death that has befallen the valiant Phoenix known as Nova, Viktor Krum has successfully retrieved his golden prize. The judges will take a moment before awarding the valiant Champion his points."
Harry ignored the eyes on him for the true threat in the arena. As no one had expected Dark Goblins to infiltrate Hogwarts, this team of cut-throats had no reason to be suspected. Without taking off their colorful masks, they were slightly shorter than first-years wearing school colors. Of course, calling out for help was a sure way to get any or all of his friends killed, and Harry still couldn't leave the arena. In the same context, helping Krum and Fleur rush through their task wouldn't matter against the few seconds these mercenaries needed to kill all his friends. With his eyes, Harry could tell that these Goblins shared his focus, his determination, his drive to see the mission done.
Harry's best solution involved Daphne, Hermione, Luna, and Tracey learning of the threat and removing themselves from the Goblins' grasp, but there was no certainty that the fourth Slytherin Goblin he had seen disappear wouldn't strike from an unseen position. It was possible that Dobby could help, but four assassins against a house-elf and his friends didn't fill Harry with confidence. As if that wasn't enough, Perenelle, Nicolas, and Draco weren't able to help, not that they would be close enough to prevent injury or death if the Hufflepuff Goblin gave the order to execute his friends.
"Witches and Wizards, Ladies and Lords, Deputy Minister of the French Ministry, Minister Fudge," Dumbledore started, pausing so, Harry could only assume, to allow Fudge a wave before the Headmaster continued. "Marvelous category-five, wizard-killing beasts, with their ability to fly and breathe fire, with hides strong enough to withstand most curses and charms, with razor-sharp claws and teeth, and an innate intellect for battle, defeating a dragon by one's self is no small feat."
'Come on, you manipulative old windbag!' Harry's mind yelled, feeling every second dragging like ten.
Dumbledore continued, "it takes a team of five dragon handlers or a single Master Dragon handler to maintain control over such astonishing creatures. Champion Krum's strategy involved…"
"Time will not assist you," the Hufflepuff Dark Goblin stated just above a whisper. "In truth, King Vorkalth cares not for your females. As gold is all that matters in your society, wizardkind are beneath him. The true Goblin King merely wishes your attention, and this is how King Vorkalth felt your wretched house deserved his introduction."
"He might regret that," Harry heatedly returned.
"Such spirit," the Goblin returned, lacking any esteem. "Perhaps you will be more receptive if I…" the Goblin turned his head a moment before the Gryffindor masked Goblin moved effortlessly beside Hermione.
Harry's heart hopped up to his throat as he groaned to desperately state, "whatever you want will mean nothing if my mind breaks." The Hufflepuff returned his attention to Harry, and the Gryffindor Goblin stayed a few paces away, ready to listen. Harry continued, "I've lost far more than enough people in my life. My parents were murdered in front of me. All my friends were tortured and killed. I've lost so much, I'm at the point if I lose any more, I'm certain I'll lose whatever sanity I have left. And instead of getting whatever it is you're after, all you'll gain is a homicidal psychopath with ridiculous Lord-level magic who will stop at nothing to track and kill every Dark Goblin on this planet. Look me in the eye, if you can stand it, and tell me I'm lying!"
Harry couldn't imagine what his face looked like in all his frightened anger, however, a stillness grew between an analytical Goblin and the Green Reaper as Dumbledore ignorantly continued. "…and for Champion Krum's ability to engage in fierce battle with a Chinese Fireball, Headmaster Karkaroff, Headmistress Maxime, Mr. Ludovic Bagman, Undersecretary Umbridge, and myself have all agreed to award his valor… forty points! Congratulations, Champion Krum."
In the rather glum cheering that followed, Harry assumed Krum was leaving as Charlie and his team set up the next dragon. As the moments above came and went at a standstill, below, the Welsh Green was brought in and set in place as Bagman explained the rules once again before introducing Fleur.
The Hufflepuff turned his body slightly, showing a speculative Luna his back as the Goblin continued, "Your family has been in contact with the usurper, Ragnuk."
"Basilisk venom," Harry quickly reasoned as all the men in the arena cheered and hollered in unison, to which Harry inferred Fleur had entered her match below. Harry didn't motion her in any way as she had a dragon to concentrate on and would be unable to help in any case. Harry did wonder if he could discreetly give her a message, and his mind began working the variables.
"The venom is but a morsel of gold," the Goblin muffled behind his mask. "We demand the mine."
"I'll tell you like we told Ragnuk," Harry began. "We don't have a Basilisk."
"King Vorkalth cares not for poultry bartering. His Majesty wishes you to know the depth of his conviction and what may become of your cherished ones should your detestable family align with our enemies."
"All this for venom," Harry tried to stall, cognizant of Fleur's battle with the Welsh green and the sliver of a chance he had to slip her a message. "All for your wars. How do you think Ragnuk is going to react if we deal with you what we don't have to give? We don't want to be apart of your conflict."
"Draco Malfoy," the Hufflepuff Goblin recited in his muffled rasp. "Heir of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Daphne Greengrass. Sister, Astoria Greengrass. Father, Jacobus Greengrass, businessman by trade. Hermione Granger, single child of weaker humans, Daniel and Charlotte Granger, orthodontists by trade. Tracey Davis, soon to be Black… if she lives, of course. Daughter of Sharon Davis and possible step-daughter of Sirius Black, Head Auror. Luna Lovegood, daughter of Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of the Quibbler by trade. French nationals, Fleur Delacour, and sister, Gabrielle Delacour. Half-Veela daughters of Apolline and Stéphane Delacour, Deputy Minister of the French Ministry of Magic. Hardwin Potter along with Fred, George, and Ginevra Weasley are the latest additions to your troupe—an act they will surely regret, no doubt—for Molly and Arthur Weasley have much more to lose. Lily Potter head of House Potter, professor by trade. All close to you—to your family—all researched at length, all effortless to dispose of for your insolence. We do not barter with me, boy. Dark Goblins will take what is ours by any means necessary. Your only choice is deciding how many lives must be sacrificed in advance of your inevitable submission."
"I can see a lot with these eyes," Harry tensely stated, eying the Hufflepuff Goblin measuredly. He hadn't had much practice with his exploratory vision, but he had noticed a spike like that before when he was fighting Crouch. The Hufflepuff Goblin wasn't as intense, nor was their pattern the same, but that spike felt like it meant anger, and Harry needed more time. "You're the strongest of the four, but it seems you all rely heavily on nature's magic. It seems to weave itself into the minimal magic of your body. You take it in and mold it for your use. It's very physical, and oddly enough, your daggers are just as unique. Hogwarts teaches far less about Dark Goblins than they do normal ones-"
"There is nothing normal about those duplicitous quislings," The Hufflepuff practically spat, as Harry noted the spike, yet again. "You are speaking to the outliers, little wizard. What could you possibly know of us, spoken from the wretched tyrants of those privileged butchers- ah, I meant bankers. Do not worry, your education is near. Dark Goblins will no longer accept designated scraps. We will take what is ours and kill all who oppose."
"You think the venom is your way out; some sort of salvation," Harry hypothesized. "If you think anything is going to change for your people going about it like this-"
"What bolsters this false image of your ability, I wonder?" the Goblin cut in with deadly resolve. "The trickle of light sputtering from your pitiful eyes? The single wizard you were unable to best in your Great Hall? The Acromantula you levitated over to safety? Or the females you saved from an intoxicated group of wizards? To be made fatuous by your own hubris, and yet you could not save your own familiar from the jaws of a dragon, you cannot keep your female from our daggers, and your life is most certainly at my mercy. You are delusional, and thus, cannot bring my King what he desires." Falling deeper into shaky panic, Harry's knuckles grew white holding his wand so tightly as he dreaded what this might mean for his friends. He needed more time. "I wonder if your parents would be most receptive should they learn we are responsible for snuffing the spirit from your body."
"You're welcome to try," Harry told him when a rising heat unlike the Chinese Fireball. The Welsh Green's fire was speared straight in his direction. Longer than a ball of fire, steady like a pressurized stream of flames shot faster than he could move, Harry barely had time to roll forward before half the levitated stone disk was charred black. The sizzling white smoke and gas choked Harry's lungs as the surrounding radius of the laser fire-spit—along with his whole body—was engulfed in toxic white smoke. Hand gripping the edge of the stone platform, Harry magically floated to the left and out of the nauseating gas.
Not one to waste any little opportunity, he magically scribed, 'Hurry. Danger. Friends,' on the bottom of the half-charred stone keeping Harry in the air. Finally looking below him, Harry used his free hand to attack the Welsh Green with the steam as cover. 'Fleur needs to win now!' his mind yelled as he observed the dragon lose interest in him to attack Fleur again. Though his normal spectrum of visibility was obscured by smoke and ocular soreness, some higher spectrum of visibility allowed him to x-ray the mass of joints between the dragon's wings as a possible point of disability. With his free hand, Harry sent a quick and silent 'Depulso,' to the center-mass of the dragon.
For the benefit of the Goblins, Harry feigned some struggle to get back on the platform, thinking, whether he hit the Welsh Green or not, it was his only shot. Harry's muscles spasmed while kneeling on the platform on knee and foot, coughing real specks of blood on his forearm. His eyes were heavily irritated, and his throat felt as if it was blistering patulously. Ignoring his pain, Hermione, Daphne, Tracey, and Luna had now noticed they were surrounded by small masked, cloaked figures.
"Lord of Magic indeed, little wizard," Harry heard with a slight amount of humor in the muffled voice. "It would appear your females have become wise to their predicament." Sensing his magically enhanced body engage in repairing the damage, Harry inhaled and exhaled slowly as he observed the girls arrange themselves back-to-back-to-back with Luna in the center, and all their wands were drawn. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry was thankful they didn't make it obvious, as causing a panic could injure the innocent students around them. Harry could hear them quietly talking amongst themselves, quickly reaching the conclusion they were Goblins.
"Not so dim-witted, females," the Hufflepuff goblin commented, turning to Tracey through the crowd, and raising a sharp-nailed finger to the mask where lips would be, stating clearly, she should not alert anyone. A booming cheer from around him felt celebratory in nature, and Harry's theory Fleur retrieved her egg was confirmed with Dumbledore's magically amplified voice.
"Congratulations to Champion Dela- One moment, Miss Delacour- Champion Delacour, you must remain to hear your points!"
Harry couldn't help the weak smile spreading on his liquid red lips. 'She got the message,' his mind reasoned with a heavy urge to take her in his arms and kiss her to death. Harry didn't question the perverse joy behind that gratitude as Dumbledore informed the crowd, "The judges will take a moment to deliberate Champion Delacour's score as the team of dragon handlers prepare the arena for our third champion."
"I do believe you, Ares Flamel," the Hufflepuff Goblin asserted. "Pitiful as your kind is, the pain of your eyes mirrors my own. That is how I know you will be of no use to my King." A hair-raising, air-vibrating, guttural screech blared throughout the arena, resurfacing a distant memory for Harry; one of youthful panic and irrational doubt. "The strongest of the four," the Hufflepuff commented still facing a wand-drawn Tracey with a calm stature, letting Hogwarts students easily pass around him as if completely unconcerned by the fifteen-year-old witch. The Gryffindor Goblin faced Hermione, while the Ravenclaw faced Daphne, and Luna was in the center of the three.
"Though she was not injured in a near flawless strategy, due to unauthorized interference by Champion Flamel, Champion Delacour has earned thirty-five points. A ten-point deduction that must also be subtracted from Champion Flamel's final tally." The male 'boos' harmonized throughout the entire stadium of seats. Dumbledore took a few moments to settle the zealous youths before informing all, "after speaking with our dragonologists and Care of Magical Creatures professor Hagrid, it remains unknown if the brave Phoenix, Nova can be saved, however, do not lose hope. While they continue their collective efforts, we must now look to the third participant of this tournament, Champion Ares Flamel!"
"If it crossed your mind this would help you free your females, your plan was for naught. I have been waiting for this moment," the Hufflepuff goblin stated in its covered voice, still focused on Tracey and the others. "With your death, your parents will know the true extent of our commitment and the only course available to them—yielding the basilisk to us. Look at your females, little wizard. Look," he insisted, and Harry tilted his head minutely. He still appreciated their formation, and if they could hold the Goblins off, he might have a chance of saving them.
"Intelligent female within your Hogwarts, surely worthy mates among your kind. Consider their lives, their clans' lives, their futures. If you wish for them to remain unharmed, you will retract your wand. You will descend to the arena below, walk to the Hungarian Horntail and you will allow it to kill you. If you do not, if you continue to aggrandize your false strength as you wheeze and bleed before me, we will murder these female and disappear before it is known what has happened."
With little choice, Harry asked the only thing he could think of, "What's your name?"
"The dead have no need-"
"Humor me," Harry interrupted. "For the pain we share."
"…Týr," the Goblin answered.
The dragon below blasted another ear-piercing shriek before Dumbledore announced to all, "With the sound of the canon, the third Champion-"
BOOM!
The canon fire cut Dumbledore off and the crowd cheered.
Týr promised Harry, "If you continue to live in ten seconds, they die on the eleventh."
With no other option, Harry stood up—observing the alert unease in his friends' faces—and slowly descended away from them. From his viewpoint, the edge of the railing his friends were pressed against rose as he lowered himself to the large feral dragon waiting below. Landing on the cold stone floor, Harry retracted his wand into his holster. His brilliant green eyes remained on Tracey, Daphne, Luna, and Hermione, cornered by Týr and his crew, as Harry felt the magical warmth of the large, winged reptilian oven circle him slowly, skeptical of how easy his prey was behaving…though not for long.
From behind him, he heard a crushing flex of its left-winged limb into the stone wall, then its right-winged limb. The heavily horned head of the dragon reared back, preparing a strong concentrated blast of fire when Harry finally spotted a shiny wisp of long golden-white hair racing from the left of the stadium through the crowd toward Hermione and the others.
'She's too far,' Harry quickly reasoned, easily analyzing the distance in the remaining moment before the dragon bellowed intensely heated dragon fire. The three Goblins needed only a second to kill, as opposed to the seven seconds Fleur needed to get close enough to save them. 'She's too far… but they're smart. They're smart and you have to trust them.'
The old image of Hermione's crying face pleading for him to trust them crowded his rational self-sacrifice, and though it made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach to believe in anything resembling faith, Harry ignored the credible threat to his friends' lives for the slim chance the consequences wouldn't end how it appeared. Despite the stone-melting fire erupting out of the dragon's mouth—already super-heating the air into steam—or the conclusive threat to his loved ones Týr was sure to see through, Harry disobeyed. He disobeyed the Goblins' clear demands, risking his friends' lives to speak the name, "Nova."
Flames erupted in front of Harry and fierce dragon-fire crashed violently against extraordinary Phoenix-fire. No one could tell which murderous flame belongs to which majestic creature as Nova flared brilliantly, made completely of mesmerizing fire. Craning her neck out of stretched-out wings, the claws latched on her master remodeled his life-sustaining blood, heart, muscle, bone, brain, and sinew into pure flame. Surrounded by, and made of fire, Harry registered the feeling of freedom, of complete satisfaction, of weightlessness. With his flaming Phoenix on his flaming shoulder, Harry felt perfect in existence and could not burn with more of what was. Dragon fire couldn't harm him any more than it could harm ordinary fire. Nova's long and piercing caw was triumphant throughout the arena, unwavering, demanding, full of rage, and Harry felt her power like he was bred to feel nothing else.
The dragon's horizontal shower of flames relented, and out of the thick, dark plumes of choking smoke and searing white steam of rapidly cooling air, Harry and his Phoenix stepped forward unharmed, red-orange fire spewing out of every pore like a strong waterfall, only racing to the skies instead of the cold ground. With soot whipping around in the cold Scottish winds, the Horntail seemed confused as to his prey's state of living, craning and turning its head. It was enough time—enough of a total distraction—for the dragon, for the witches, the wizards, the goblin-assassins, and for Luna to vanish the railing in front of her before grabbing Hermione and Tracey by their cloaks, and pulling hard, leaving Hermione to grab Daphne as they all fell over and through the invisible protective barrier toward the stony ground below.
The goblins were fast, nearly on them with gleaming daggers before their legs could clear the edge when a "Protego!" by Daphne was shattered by a descending dagger from the Ravenclaw Goblin, and a "Reducto!" from Fleur struck the wood railing nearest the Gryffindor Goblin, splattering splinters of wood into the colorful mask. Harry barely had time to notice the Goblins promptly disapparating as the girls quickly approached the ground at terminal speed.
With wandless magic, Harry arrested their disastrous momentum before the two seconds it took to reach the hard stone below were up, though Harry's casting was interrupted when Nova flamed them away, narrowly avoiding the Hungarian Horntail's spiked tail swipe. Nova flamed near the girls as they hit the ground hard with horrible lung-expelling grunts. Harry had managed to slow the girls down, though the meaty thud he heard told him it wasn't enough to remain unharmed.
Once again of flesh and bone, Harry called, "Hermione?" He ran to them, calling out, "Are you okay?" Nova, still on his shoulder, he heard them groan painfully as they struggled to get off of one another. "Luna! Daphne! Tracey!"
Before he could ascertain their physical well-being, Harry felt rising heat all around him, alerting him a second or two before deadly dragon fire ambushed them. Absolutely fed up with the stupid beast, Harry summoned his death-white wand with a flick of his wrist and turned to a powerful roar of incoming spiraling flame.
Though fatal spit of flame flooded his vision, Harry calmly spoke, "Sineaere."
Every bit of dragon fire from the tip of the fire spear all the way back to the Horntail's maw suffocated to sickly blue wisps before disappearing entirely, to then be replaced by rising steam. Taking the very oxygen out of the air with a choking curse, the fatal dragon fire simply evaporated as the crowd 'whooed,' but Harry's anger wasn't nearly satisfied as he then banished the large dragon with enough force to propel the shrieking creature to the other end of the arena. With Harry's demanding anger, the poultry charm keeping the egg from being summoned couldn't resist his strength as the egg answered his wand's call and flew straight to Harry's hand, ending his first task.
He dropped the egg in favor of checking on his friends. They were on their feet, he was relieved to see, lined side-by-side. A grimaced Luna on one leg, leaning heavily on Hermione for support, Hermione holding her left forearm to her chest, Tracey bleeding from her forehead with a swelling left eye, and Daphne applying pressure to a cut on the side of her head, reddening her frazzled blond hair. With his magic-sight, Harry could clearly see the distress in their magic from their physical pain. He could see fear, of a sort. They used to be worried about school grades. Now they worry about being collateral damage in a Death Eater or Acromantula attack, and becoming the target of a Goblin assassination squad. In a short few months, these girls had experienced an increase in danger that took him at least four years to fully appreciate.
'They still haven't lost anyone,' a voice in his mind stated. 'And I won't let them know that pain…' His death-curse green eyes widened as realization had him yell, "fuck!" It wasn't just Hermione, Luna, Daphne, and Tracey that Týr threatened. Certainly, the Dark Goblin believed it would be one of them to die, if not Harry himself, but he didn't just threaten his close friends—and Draco—the Dark Goblin threatened their families as well. Anyone close to him or the House Flamel who was loved enough to instill terrible grief at their loss…
"Ares?" a confused Hermione called as Harry scanned each of them, wondering aloud, "who would it be? Who would it be?" Luna's father, Tracey's mother, possibly Sirius, though he should be safer at the ministry than, say, Daphne's father, or, "Hermione's parents," he reasoned.
"What?" Hermione asked, as he accepted muggles would be the easiest targets to yield just as devastating hurt. Yet, even still, Mr. And Mrs. Granger weren't the only ones in danger. "What about my parents?" Hermione asked, moving forward.
With intrepid fear, Harry realized it had been nearly two minutes since the Goblins disapparated. 'That's a lifetime,' he angrily yelled at himself for being so stupid. Týr may not have been able to hurt one of his friends, but that didn't mean everyone was safe. Hermione looked at him with a mix of pain and worry as he realized he'd never been to her house… ever.
Entering his perfect recall, Harry realized he'd never actually asked about her parents in any meaningful way. He knew they were dentists and they didn't understand or approve of some of the wizarding world's backward methods of living. The only other time he saw them was in his timeline when they placed their heads on the wall of heads. If it could be seen as fortunate, he was spared being forced to view the memory of their gruesome death as they felt simply telling him was enough.
Harry vaguely wondered why it was he never asked to know more about the parents that raised one of his best friends as he quickly asked her, "Hermione, I need you to think carefully about where your parents might be at this exact moment. Do it now!"
Harry ignored her for the other three, and those he cared for in the stands. Feeling the dread at the pit of his stomach double in weight at the thought that time may have already ended for someone, Harry whipped around to the interested crowd above.
Catching sight of the smirking Fleur in the stands above, Harry magically amplified his voice and yelled, "Fleur!" stunning her in the process. His croaky voice or the graveness within his tone caught everyone not expecting it off-guard. "Get to your family, now! It's not over!" Painfully clearing his toxic-burned throat, Harry scanned the shaded bleachers, and though he was worried by Dumbledore's absence, he focused on an alert Stéphane Delacour, calling out, as Fleur ran toward them, "Stéphane… protect your family!"
Finding a concerned Lily Potter with Remus, Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny, Harry yelled, "Lily, get to Hardwin! Stay with him! Remus, contact Sirius. Tell him to get Tracey's mum… bring her here. She's not safe."
By now most of the crowd was actively panicking as Tracey worriedly asked from behind Harry, "What about my mum? Ares?"
Despite the blistering pain in his aching throat, Harry continued, looking directly at Arthur, "Mr. Weasley, Bill, make sure all of yours are safe!" Over the clamor of rushing students and adults, Harry couldn't spot Professor McGonagall, and so he yelled with excessive amplitude, "EVERYBODY CALM DOWN!" Many winced at the sound, none more than Harry as his mouth and throat felt like they were blistering and bleeding. "If you want to stay safe… stay here and shut up! Professor McGonagall? Professor McGona-" She rushed through some students to the railing, to which his hoarse voice continued, "I need you… to find Luna's father, Xenophilius. He's in danger. Bring him here!"
Hermione moved in front of him, pleading worry in her eyes. When she spied the blood leaking from his nose and down the corners of his mouth, she wiped it with her cloak as he asked her, regardless of the Soronus, "Do you know… where your parents might be?"
She nodded her head answering, "Their practice is closed on Saturdays. They like to go to old bookshops."
He only nodded, turning to the crowd once more and finding Astoria with the other Slytherins, speaking only, "Nova." His Phoenix flamed to Daphne's sister and flamed right back with the eleven-year-old. Daphne was right on them as he wondered about how to reach her father. Limited on time, he took Hermione's hand in his as he addressed the crowd. "If anyone can get ahold of Jacobus Greengrass… let him know he's in danger… and needs to come here immediately."
Along with Hermione, Harry flamed away, landing in the waiting room of Flamel's London townhouse. Harry cleared his throbbing and thick throat before he informed her, "we're in Nic and Nelle's townhouse… in Kensington-"
"Kensington is thirty minutes south of Hampstead," Hermione quickly told him.
"Lots of open space… right? Big and Little Wood?"he asked. At Hermione's nod, Harry took her hand. "Will you let me… enter your mind?" Harry took a couple breaths as she nervously voiced her thoughts without filter. "Because we don't have time for flying, I can't apparate, you've never been there, and if we don't get there now you think my parents will be killed? Yes, yes! I trust you-"
Harry placed his soot-covered hand on her warm forehead and immediately saw a vision of a young Hermione, with large teeth and a round, cactus hay of fluffy hair, looking out the window of a bookstore at children playing before turning and spotting her parents exactly where they've been standing for the past thirty minutes, quietly reading large books and completely oblivious to the world around them. Harry felt a little of Hermione's longing to go out into the world when he exited her detail-oriented mind. Harry immediately flamed them to the alley beside the bookstore.
"On the roof," Harry commanded his familiar as he followed after a running Hermione. The second Nova's claws left his body, Harry felt even worse than he imagined. Still, he ignored the familiarity of the pain as he entered the quaint little bookshop, hearing Hermione call out, "mum! Dad!" They ignored the attention they're drawing by the rudeness of their calls and the odd manner of their attire. Harry, in particular, looked filthy caked in sweat, soot, and bleeding from the nose and mouth.
"Miss Granger?" someone who appeared to work there called.
Hermione rushed to the elderly man, asking, "Mr. Gershaw, have you seen my parents today? Did they come by?"
Quirking a curious eye from Harry to Hermione, the nearly dead man asked, "Ought' you be in yer boarding school, little lady-"
"Mr. Gershaw!" she frantically interrupted. "Have you seen them?!"
"Aye, I have," he promptly answered in surprise, placing a shaky hand on his chest. "We didn't have what they were hoping fer-"
Hermione immediately ran out of the shop, pushing a couple out of the way, and explained when Harry caught up with her, "Whenever they don't have a book mum's waiting on, dad treats her to ice-cream two blocks from here."
The pair sprinted flat out for two blocks, Nova flying high overhead, when they came upon an ambulance by the ice-cream parlor with a small crowd of muggles watching in worry. Harry could barely keep up with Hermione she was running so fast. Pushing through the paramedic, and rounding the back of the large medical transport vehicle, Hermione found her parents talking to the officers.
"Mum!" a winded Hermione called, wiping her face of tears and snapping their attention on her as she rushed to them. Hermione wrapped her arms around the stunned parents. Breathing painfully heavy, Harry used the reprieve to surveil the crowd for threats, forming an image in his mind using the banged-up bicycle, the slightly dented car, and the fact that Hermione's parents didn't have a cup of ice-cream in their hands.
'They were delayed and didn't make the shop,' he reasoned.
Harry peered over the crowd toward the alleys between stone buildings. Out of the four points of possible attack, the little hairs on the back of Harry's neck only rose at the ominous nature of one, but without his magic-sight, Harry couldn't be sure. Despite no obvious signs of a Goblin threat, he turned to Hermione, who was explaining a bit of her presence to her parents.
"Hermione," his voice cracked as he called with urgency, feeling far too exposed in the open. Harry spat out some blood as Hermione dragged her mother by the arm, her father following closely.
"Honey, please," Daniel started. "You're causing a scene. And who taught you to leave without completing an official statement?"
"More importantly, your friend needs medical attention," Charlotte pointed out, looking at the bleeding, greasy, soot-covered boy.
"We can't stay here," Hermione told them, grabbing her father's hand as well. "Please, you have to trust me. We need to go, now!"
Wand in hand, Harry moved in the opposite direction of that particular alley, searching for some privacy to flame back to Hogwarts. With the accident and the ruckus they had caused, Harry and Hermione attracted too much attention, and were forced to walk farther down the street and away from witnesses. Turning into the first bare alley, Harry called Nova. Hearing the low whistle of his diving Phoenix, however, didn't distract him from the barely audible padding of small feet landing on the moist ground.
Harry yelled, "Take them!" to his familiar as he blocked the heavy thrust of a dagger to his left side from an incredibly fast Goblin with his, "Protego!"
With his magic-sight activating, Harry noted its speed as close to instant in near amazement as their special dagger easily cut through the shield like a hot knife through butter. Despite the blade, Harry didn't allow his shield to burst like one might when they feel it be destroyed. However, from the Goblin's sleeve, a smaller, black knife was flicked into its hand a second before the assassin hurled it at his best friend. Hermione's stunned surprise didn't match the absolute horror Harry felt at the panic of possibly losing her for a second time. At the fatal shock of her chocolate brown eyes as it narrowed on the messenger of her death, Harry's heart stopped with a jolt as he stretched his free hand, begging with his pained soul and monster magic, 'Anyone but her!'
The knife slowed just as Hermione yelled "Protego!" Her shield wrapped around the knife, stopping it inches from her chest.
'Expulso,' Harry mentally yelled, narrowing his sudden hatred on destroying the Goblin. The Goblin disapparated as the airy whistle of his Phoenix ended with an abrupt scream from Hermione's mother and a flash of light when Nova flamed away with all three Grangers. Reading magical atmospheric readings with his flaring magic-sight, he sensed a fluctuation behind him a moment before he was attacked. The Goblin was right on him and again, astounding him by how fast they moved, leaving him with little choice but to go wide and wordlessly banish everything behind him; the full trash cans, rocks, weeds, puddle water, and the Goblin that nearly stuck Harry in his liver with its dagger.
Nova returned in a bright flash of fire, clutching at him before flaming back to Hogwarts. They landed inside the stone-covered arena of the first task, and Harry dropped to one knee. Feeling better with Nova's anesthetic talons clutching his shoulder, he took note of a very large gathering. On one side, the Delacours, the Potters, the Weasleys—absent Arthur and Bill—Luna, who was holding his egg, a very worried Tracey, and Daphne comforting a distraught Astoria, were listening, talking, or arguing to the other side of the group; Minister Fudge, Umbridge, Lucius, Maxime, Bagman, Snape, Flitwick, Moody, Lockhart, and Sprout. Lily—with Hardwin right behind her—was talking to the Grangers while Pomfrey was tending to Luna's leg.
Upon his flashy entrance, Moody, Snape, Fudge, Umbridge, Bagman, and Stéphane rush him, asking the most obvious questions, "What is going on here?" "Why are wizards in danger?" "What is the threat?" "Are we still in danger?" "Is this a a foolhardy attempt of a prank, young man?" all at the same time. At least Stéphane asked him if he was alright. Having suffered far worse many times before, Harry simply nodded.
Harry heard Hermione yell from beside him, "Can't you see he's hurt?"
Flooded with uncontrollable relief, Harry easily ignored all the adults in favor of his best friend's second near-death experience in the space of minutes. He took her in his strong arms, desperate to hold her flush against him, simply to physically assure his unstable mind that, 'She's safe!' With her profile pressed against his, he felt his eyes heat over at the sensation of her comforting soft warmth. He simply repeated, 'she's safe,' as the steady rhythm of her strong heartbeat settled him.
"I'm safe, Ares," she repeated in a whisper, and he realized he had been mumbling loud enough for her to hear. "I'm safe," she repeated, pressing further into the side of his face with her own. After another couple of moments, Harry settled enough, abruptly clearing his throat when he recalled where they were, and took a step back. Looking into her large, grateful eyes, he ignored his pain for the vivid memory of hers, vowing for the millionth time to keep her safe when they were interrupted by a brilliant flash of light and fire behind him.
Harry turned around to meet the most renowned wizard of their time, Albus Dumbledore, looking wrathful from the heavily etched, aggrieved wrinkles on his angered face to the hostile posture of his squared shoulders and tight fists. With a red-hot Phoenix on his shoulder and the Elder wand in hand, the Headmaster leveled Harry with oppressive accusation.
"You've stolen an item which does not belong to you," he said, his voice was low but fierce, an ability matched eerily well by Horcrux-Voldemort.
Unfazed by the strongest wizard of their age holding the strongest wand ever made, Nova flapped her long black wings twice from upon his shoulder as Harry, wandlessly and wordlessly, heightened the volume of his raspy voice for all in the arena to hear.
"Are you honestly accusing me of theft now?" he asked. The sound easily carried throughout the bevy of magical-kind, causing all who hadn't seen Dumbledore's entrance to focus on them. From as high as the Minister of Magic to as low as the first-year witches and wizards, all were paying attention. If Dumbledore expected the entire arena to hear Harry speak, he didn't show it, nor did he reply, and so Harry continued, effortlessly driven by the near loss of his best friend, his pent-up rage, and historic resentment. "And while we're at it, where the bloody hell have you been?"
"I do not answer to you, young man," Dumbledore returned, his voice only carrying to those adults a few paces behind Harry. "Let's dispense with the games-"
"Have you even heard what's happened in the last twenty minutes?" Harry wheezed. "How four of your students were nearly killed-"
Dumbledore took a sharp step forward, eyes still fixed in righteous indignation as he rasped, "Your pride has now and truly seen to your demise. I've witnessed as much before."
"'My pride?' How's it possible you can be this blind?" Harry's magically magnified voice interrupted, projecting with absolute clarity throughout the entire arena. It was obvious Dumbledore wasn't going to use Soronus to speak over Harry, who—though he hadn't asked for it—took full advantage of the power of the public. "Under your watch, four of your students were being targeted by assassins." He took a grating breath, willing the pain away as he added, "Not a hundred feet away from the most revered wizard alive, a whole section of your students could've been just as injured as my friends. Do you reckon I enjoyed watching Hermione, Luna, Daphne, and Tracey being held hostage while these assassins demanded I sacrifice my life to save theirs? Please explain to me how this item you're accusing me of stealing is more important than their lives? Better still, did you even notice the danger?"
Though upright and square-shouldered, Harry couldn't detect a shred of remorse or even reconsideration. It grated Harry to further yell, "Do you even know how many ways this could've gone to complete shite?! If Fleur hadn't been there in time, four of your students could've died! If Luna, Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione weren't so smart, weren't so perceptive, they never would've noticed the assassins hidden in plain sight and they could have died! If I trusted you to keep your word and take that magical binding off of Nova's leg—the binding you put there without my consent that prevents her from flaming—she never would've been able to save my life, and I wouldn't have been able to catch my friends, who had thrown themselves into a dragon pit to avoid being killed by assassins!"
The vexing aggravation was boiling, and Harry's green eyes could only see red. He couldn't pretend to have any self-control as he yelled, even with a magically amplified voice, "Who the bloody hell are you?! Because you're certainly NOT this benevolent, magnanimous, humanitarian that I've been led to believe. No, no, the Dumbledore Nicolas was friends with wouldn't have used their precious stone as bait for Dark Lords in a place where children bloody live! Nicolas spoke to me of a man who would've had the conscious of mind, and more importantly, the presence of heart to realize that something about my behavior was off, and students may be in imminent danger. The Dumbledore Perenelle told me about would've noticed the difference between an old friend he hired to teach children, and a bloody Death Eater who nearly killed them! Perenelle described a wizard who would've stopped at nothing to make sure ALL his students were safe from harm. Imagine my utter disappointment when I finally meet this celebrated wizard—this savior of the innocent, this beacon of light—who champions for the greater fucking good."
Harry's past bled through his venting speech like the blood from his blistering mouth and nothing mattered as sheer frustration, decades of pent up resentment, and aggravation yelled at this Dumbledore what he only wished he had at the previous one.
"What the bloody hell is the matter with you?!" Harry yelled. "Why am I constantly fixing your mistakes?! Why do you seem to think you know better than everyone around you when your manipulative ineptitude is constantly forcing a boy to do your fucking job?! How much longer are you going to make me put up with your bullshite?! I'm tired! I'M TIRED! …And I don't want to do this!" Harry heaved terribly, taking a moment to collect the strength before adding, "but what choice do I have? What choice is there for any of us when you've made absolute certain only the 'Great' Albus Dumbledore is in any real position of strength and knowledge to save us all? What choice are you leaving us when it's either wait for Dumbledore, or die? You want control over my life, well I'm telling you here and now, YOU CAN'T FUCKING HAVE IT!"
Despite the magically amplified deep breathing of a green-eyed Slytherin, with the number of witches and wizards—young and old— watching, the stillness in the arena was unbelievable, like a muggle photograph. It simply didn't make sense that wheezing breathing could be the only source of a sound, in the outdoors, with dragons near, for a single second let alone the ten that passed painfully slow. Dumbledore and Harry stared at one another intently without waver.
In his normal tone of voice, Dumbledore replied, "Expect you and I to continue this later."
Normalizing his own volume of voice, Harry hoarsely retorted, "With words or wands, Headmaster. Anytime."
As I was not anticipating life's little curve ball, I did write about a third of the next chapter, so whenever I finish with this personal matter, it shouldn't take me too long to update again.
I'm a little nervous about this chapter. In my mind, I'm thinking I gotta top the crouch fight, top the acromantula attack, but I honestly couldn't think of how to top it. It was different because no one was expecting the Crouch fight or the acromantula. The First Task felt like the expectation was there and had to be raised. So this is what I came up with. It will help with some of my other plans for the the future as well.
Also, I would imagine choking isn't too muggle for magicals, so there more than likely is a choking curse, if for nothing else, than erotic asphyxiation. so I invented the charm which of course you read as Sineaere. In Latin it's Sine Aere, meaning without air.
Also, Patulous is a word. It means expand. Patulously is not a word. I invented it :)
Thanks for reading and taking the time to support with your lovely/helpful comments. Sorry I've been lagging with the replies, it's just been a very busy week. Have a great one,
-Grae