Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

Albus Dumbledore sat within the confines of his office after dinner that evening awaiting his incoming guest. He had instructed Professor McGonagall to talk to Iris Potter on his behalf and invite her to his office. It seemed better to use Iris' head of house as opposed to interacting with her himself during the evening's meal. He wouldn't want to be seen showing favoritism after all.

While he hadn't been able to speak with young Harry earlier in the day due to the fact he wasn't invited into Miss Delacour's chambers. He could perfectly understand the reasoning and he wouldn't wish to do anything that would hinder international relations. The students would be here for the rest of the schooling year and there was no need to make them dislike their time at Hogwarts. The tournament was designed to bring the three schools together after all, there was no reason to disrupt what had already grown.

What was mildly disturbing however was how defensive the Beauxbaton's champion had been in regards to his wish to speak to Harry. The way in which Miss Delacour had spoken of Harry had been done so with a hint of normality that wasn't present amongst the other students. Given the fact that until a handful of days ago nobody had been aware of your Mister Potter's existence made it easy to believe that most people spoke about him with an air of mystery. Miss Delacour hadn't done so, having referred to him with an air of familiarity. He could very well be overthinking things, after all any family that had discovered that Harry had still been alive would have paraded the knowledge about without hesitation.

Hearing the moving of a staircase, Dumbledore prepared himself for the upcoming conversation. He knew that he couldn't be too forthcoming and needed to simply enquire how Iris was in regards to actually having spent time with her long lost brother. He would steer the conversation however he deemed necessary and get all the information from Iris that he required. Gaining an initial idea of how best to approach Harry would be fundamental in crafting a good relationship for the years to come.

Albus Dumbledore found himself somewhat taken aback as instead of seeing the teenage frame if Iris Potter step into his office, it was the far more formidable form of the Beauxbatons Headmistress. "Madam Maxine, I was not expecting you this evening," said Dumbledore in genuine surprise. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well Dumbly-dorr, I was having the most enchanting evening with one your students," said Madam Maxine, taking deliberately slow steps towards his desk. "Ze talked of the most amazing stories zat happened right here in Hogwarts."

Dumbledore couldn't help but internally dread just what stories had been told. His peer wouldn't approach him for mere idle chatter at this time of the evening. "I assume Beauxbatons has it's own share of stories to share," he said in an attempt to diffuse whatever situation was forming in front of him.

"Indeed it does Dumbly-dorr," said Madam Maxine with a coy smile on her face before it disappeared in an instance. "Our stories however do not include trolls wondering ze halls or ze petrification of students! What do you have to say Dumbly-dorr?"

Albus took a deep breath in before reaching for a lemon drop and plopping it within his mouth. This was going to be a long conversation.

...

"So I know you didn't want to speak about it last night but I have to ask, where were you yesterday?" asked Hermione as she sat next to Iris at the breakfast table. "There's already a lot of rumors going around that you were catching up with Harry, or at least that's what Lavender said."

"Well," started Iris before swallowing the eggs she had been eating. "I can imagine that the rumors started because a lot of people noticed that Harry's bike was on the grounds and neither he or I had been seen in the halls." A quick glance at Hermione confirmed Iris' suspicions on the matter. "Well I can safely say that yes, I was catching up with my...brother."

That word still felt so foreign to her.

"Well, I know that what the two of you talked about was probably really personal so I won't ask you about it," said Hermione with a smile of reassurance. "I would try to keep away from a handful of people for a while, you can imagine that some people here will try to pry information out of you and likely won't want to take no as an answer."

"Well aware," said Iris as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Even when she had returned to her quarters she had encountered a couple of Prefects starting their patrols and they had immediately wanted to know the latest gossip. It didn't matter that curfew was swiftly approaching, such things were trivial in comparison to knowing any crumb of knowledge that surrounded her brother. "Do you have any suggestions as to where I can hide today?"

"Why would you wish to hide?" asked a now all too familiar voice as Fleur Delacour took her place opposite Hermione and Iris. "I do not wish to be rude but we have not been introduced Miss..."

"Granger, Hermione Granger," answered the Gryffindor as they accepted the hand that had been offered to them. "It's a pleasure to meet the Beauxbatons champion."

"Ah, you must be ze woman whom zis little flower spoke so favourly of yesterday," said Fluer as she glanced her eyes at Iris who couldn't help but avert her gaze. After a bit of friendly banter, Fleur had started calling Iris 'little flower' without making it sound demeaning in the slightest. If anything Iris had to admit that it sounded far cuter than she wished to admit but she truly wished that it didn't spread. She sincerely thought that if someone like Malfoy called her that it wouldn't be done in such a nice manner. "You must know zat Iris praised your talents."

"Did she now," said Hermione, smirking at Iris who looked as if they wished the breakfast in front of her could eat her up. "That was rather nice of her then. I trust only kind things were said."

"You were saying something about hiding?" interrupted Iris before Fleur had the chance to respond.

"Indeed," said Fleur as she sat upright, ignoring the looks of some of the other students in the hall who had looked in her direction. "You said zat you wish to hide but I wish to propose a different option. If you say zat you are hiding zen you have put yourself into a compromising position. People affiliate hiding with fear. You are not afraid are you little flower?"

"No," said Iris defensively.

"In which case, zen you should be able to escort me to ze nearby village," said Fleur, blasting Iris with a disarming smile.

Hermione kept her mouth closed as she looked over at Iris. The bushy haired witch was aware that it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend however if they were to tell Professor McGonagall that they were escorting the Beauxbatons students then there was a good chance that they could get away with it. "Could we, you know, not?" said Iris as she avoided Fleur's gaze.

Initially Fleur had been preparing for some sort of defense in why they shouldn't go however this caught her off guard. Despite the offer being a deliberate attempt to go visit her brother, it was clear that Iris didn't want to socialize with him today. Fleur could only assume that the girl before her was still adjusting to the fact that she had living family. Begrudgingly, Fleur decided not to push in the fear that doing so could have an adverse effect on the relationship between the siblings. It would come naturally, with minimal need to push.

"In which case zen would you be able to relay a message for me to 'Arry, I need to tell him a few things zat are going to occur before ze first task," said Fleur. "Could you do zat for me?"

"Yes, yes I can do that," said Iris, perking up ever so slightly. "Let us go find a secluded area somewhere and you tell me what it is that Harry needs to know."

Hermione couldn't help but rub at her temples having bore witness to something that was excruciatingly painful to watch.

...

Rita Skeeter dusted herself off as she stepped through the Floo, making herself as presentable as possible. She hadn't been able to Floo to Hogwarts directly but had had to diverge through Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks. It was only a short detour but it was still an annoyance.

Striding with purpose, she took brief notice of the other people currently inhabiting the pub at this hour of the morning. The slop they served here could barely be called breakfast but given the isolation of the village she could only assume good food was hard to come by. The citizens likely didn't know any better.

After her brief survey of the area, Rita left the establishment to feel the cool wind of the November air crash against her body. Tightening the scarf around her neck, the journalist was about to make her way towards Hogwarts before something caught her eye. A motorcycle, one that people would see driven across Muggle streets simply resting against the Three Broomsticks. It was an object which had no place being in the magical village but she knew just who it belonged to. The news from the school had spread like fiendfyre that a teenager long thought deceased had ridden into Hogwarts atop a Muggle vehicle.

It seemed as if Harry Potter was nearby and she couldn't help feeling the slightest but giddy about the possibility of getting an interview without any restrictions. She would be interviewing all of the champions later in the day but it would be done under the watchful eyes of their respective Headmasters. Here and now however she had free reign to ask whatever she wished and spread it to the public.

Armed with the knowledge that she had some time up her sleeves, Rita stood in the chilly environment and waited for Harry to make himself known.

As minutes ticked by however, Rita's patience began to wane before a scruffy haired teenager stepped out of the Three Broomsticks. His Muggle garb was painful on the eyes but given the motorcycle he traveled on Rita could only assume that there was purpose behind it. "Mister Potter I presume," she said as she deliberately stepped in between Harry and his bike.

Rita found herself slightly on the back foot as instead of Harry answering her with words he directed a spiteful glare at her. Piercing eyes that informed her that he had no interest in playing games. "I'm Rita Skeeter, journalist for the Daily Prophet," she introduced, cutting to the chase. "I was curious if..."

"No." The sternness in his reply mirrored the look in his eyes.

"I assure you that the public..."

"No," he said again, taking a step forward. "Move."

"A man of little words it seems," mused Rita as she stepped out of his way. "Just know that I will..."

"Don't care," said Harry as stepped last her, not caring about what she wished to say in the slightest.

As she watched Harry board his bike, she knew that even if he didn't wish to have a conversation now that didn't mean she would be denied. He was a champion of the Triwizard Tournament and tradition dictated that he be at the Weighing of the Wands later this day. She would get her interview.

With sharp eyes of her own, she watched as Harry rode off down the street. A cursory glance to the side showed that Hogwarts was off in the other direction. Surely he was going to do an odd job before heading off to Hogwarts.

Surely...

...

Albus Dumbledore was a patient man but even he could read the agitated atmosphere in the room. The representatives from the Ministry had taken time out of their busy schedules to witness the ceremony and had already been waiting far longer than expected. Mister Ollivander seemed to be having a good enough time, just watching the scenes unfold around him.

Albus let his gaze drift to Igor and Viktor Krum, the two of them standing in a corner of their own as they did their best to ignore Rita Skeeter and her photographer. The Hogwarts Headmaster didn't particularly blame them. Despite Viktor's skill on the Quidditch pitch he was still a student and still vulnerable in the eyes of someone with the ears of the masses. He knew that she wouldn't directly slander him on the page without due reason, however ignoring her gave her far too much creative freedom.

The Hogwarts representative, Cedric Diggory, was chatting away with Ludo Bagman and doing his best to keep the man calm. If he could do so publicly he would award Hufflepuff ten points for preventing a Ministry Official from throwing a tantrum. Ludo wasn't the most patient of men after all.

Deciding to take some action, Dumbledore walked over to Madam Maxine and the Beauxbatons champion. After the verbal drilling he had received from the French Headmistress in regards to some of the, 'unfortunate events,' of the past few years he hadn't wished to speak with her unless it was of the utmost importance. This however seemed like a worthwhile reason if any.

"Miss Delacour, may I have a moment of your time?" Albus asked.

She beamed at him with a cunning smile. "Of course Headmaster Dumbledore," said Fleur.

"I trusted in you to convey the information that Mister Potter required, such information such as this ceremony," said Dumbledore.

"Oui, you did," responded Fleur. "I told him about everything that I was aware of in a letter."

"Then he should know that the Weighing of the Wands ceremony is an important tradition of the Triwizard Tournament," stated Dumbledore.

"I did indeed stress zis piece if information as it would be ze first time that all champions were gathered," said Fleur calmly.

"Then do you care to explain why it is that Mister Potter isn't here?"

"Dumbly-dorr, I hope you are not implying that my student is aware of Mister Potter's movements," said Madam Maxine coldly.

"Nothing of the sort," said Albus defensively.

"In 'Arry's letter back to me he said that traditionally ze Triwizard Tournament never had four competitors," declared Fleur. "As such he decided that zis event is a farce as it is only required due to ze tradition which has already been broken."

"Is that truly what he said?" asked Dumbledore.

"Non," replied Fleur. "'Arry's words were far more crude and unfit to speak in front of a journalist. I am merely giving you my interpretation."

Dumbledore resisted the urge to rub at his temples. The boy was reckless and held no regards for such ancient traditions. He clearly needed a guiding hand as he was still young enough to be molded, however difficult it may be. Getting him to agree to actually speaking face to face however would likely prove the most challenging of tasks.

Still, now he had to deal with the fallout that would come as a result of his absence. Hopefully Rita wouldn't be too harsh in her article.

...

Rita Skeeter sat at a table in the Three Broomsticks, waiting for the sound of Harry's motorbike to reach her ears. The interviews she had gotten from the other three champions had been good enough for the front page of the Prophet but that wasn't what the people wanted. The masses wanted to know everything possible about Harry.

Rita had deliberately asked the champions about how they thought of their direct competition and who they considered the underdog. Without hesitation both Cedric and Viktor had stated that Harry would struggle when he was so much younger. It made sense but it was also extremely predictable.

Predictable didn't sell papers.

So when the Beauxbatons champion had listed herself as the underdog Rita was somewhat surprised. The humility the girl was showing in her hopes to overcome prejudice was a nice change of pace but surely she had considered herself stronger than a boy three years younger than her. Fluer had responded to her comments by saying that the Three older champions had followed a strict curriculum over their time at their respective schools. Harry had no such limitations which prevented him from being an underdog but more appropriately a wildcard.

Rita had taken her words into account and felt the desire to learn more of the boy. Hence she had been waiting at the pub for the better part of two hours for him to return. The sun was starting to set through the windows but that didn't deter her. Rita internally swore that she would wait however long it took to get the story the people wanted to hear.

Harry couldn't be too far away after all.

As minutes trickled by one after the other she knew that time was running thin. She still had a report to deliver to the Daily Prophet and while they would wait for her in regards to an exclusive such as this her time wasn't infinite. Another hour steadily trickled past before her patience found itself on edge. As yet another hour went by she could no longer wait!

Marching away from the table she had been seated at, Rita could only growl at the sheer amount of time she had spent waiting for Harry. The elusive teenager had gotten the better of her today but she would get the story she wanted. She always did after all.

That wasn't to say that Harry's absence couldn't be made into a worthwhile article in its own right.

...

Iris Potter looked at the headline regarding her brother in the Daily Prophet. Or more importantly she looked at the article explaining that he was absent from an event that he should have been at but simply chose not to. She didn't particularly know what was so special about the event in the first place. The wand chooses the wizard. Those words spoken to her by Mister Ollivander had round true and hence it didn't matter what material each champion's wand was made of, so long as it best suited them.

Just because Harry hadn't been there didn't mean that his wand wasn't up to scratch. His wand chose him...or had it. In fact, she couldn't remember seeing Harry with a wand. She hadn't seen him cast a single spell. It wasn't as if there had been a situation where he needed to use magic but that wasn't the point.

He was her brother so of course he had a wand.

Surely.

Surely?

Ignoring the fact that she had classes shortly, Iris raced past other students on the way to the Owlery. She needed to send a letter. She needed to send a letter now!

...

Hope you enjoyed.