The first person Alduin went to see was Kingsley.
The Shacklebolt butler frowned at him when he appeared in the receiving room. "The family is at breakfast, sir," he said in a rebuking tone.
"I know. Please give them my apologies, but I need to speak with Mr. Kingsley urgently."
"Very well, sir. Wait here, please."
Alduin did, running over various scenarios in his head, one possible emergency after another.
"What is it?" Kingsley asked him when he came in. "Is something wrong with Harry?"
"No, or at least not exactly. I have some crucial information about Riddle that I need to impart."
Nodding curtly, Kingsley took him to his study and firmly shut the door. "Well?" He asked then.
"I can't tell you how I know exactly, but Riddle is apparently in Britain, and reconnected with Pettigrew," Alduin announced without preamble.
Kingsley frowned. "You know we've suspected as much..."
"I've had independent confirmation, of sorts. He's also making plans to kill Harry."
"Of course he is." Kingsley gave a deep sigh. "It's a day before the Cup," he said. "I can't..."
"No," Alduin agreed. "That'd only cause panic. But Riddle is weakened, I think. The security measures you have in place should be enough for now. But if there was a way to keep them up afterwards..."
Kingsley shook his head. "That'll never fly without a solid proof, or at least a pretty firm indication."
Alduin sighed. "Do what you can," he said, "I have other people to contact. Oh, and...I'd be very grateful if you could let Dumbledore know."
Kingsley blinked in apparent surprise. "Why don't you tell him yourself?"
"Not telling you the source of my information is mostly over-carefulness," Alduin explained. "Dumbledore, on the other hand, I really don't want to know, and he's a handy legilimens. Better if he doesn't know who the information came from at all. You can make it seem like you got it through Auror channels."
"Very well then. I won't keep you – it seems like I have much to do myself." It was Kingsley's turn to sigh. "This is bad timing. The Cup. The Tournament is coming up..."
"The Tournament is at Hogwarts," Alduin pointed out. "It should be safe enough."
Kingsley raised his eyebrows. "Such trust in Dumbledore from you surprises me."
Alduin shrugged. "I might not like the man, but I would never doubt his power."
"Well, let's hope you're right," Kingsley muttered, and with that, they bid their goodbyes.
The second person Alduin went to see was Lucius.
He, too, was still at breakfast, though already finishing, and he, too, took Alduin to his study.
"What is the emergency?" He asked.
"Voldemort is almost certainly back in Britain, with Pettigrew by his side," Alduin, once again, stated plainly.
Lucius sucked in a breath. "I had...suspected it might be true."
Alduin narrowed his eyes. "What do you know?"
Lucius shook his head. "Nothing, but...I thought perhaps it was only my paranoia, but the Mark seems to be getting darker, clearer again."
"So the others will know too," Alduin realized immediately.
Lucius simply inclined his head.
"We will need to make some adjustments in the light of this," Alduin began. "For your own safety, obviously, he should never find out the true reason why you swore the Vow to me. But there's time for this – he's weak now, and running some long-term plan. However, there is one thing of immediate importance..." And he told Lucius about the Auror need for an inducement to keep the security measures up. He didn't know what Narcissa had told her husband exactly regarding the death of his father, but given the expediency with which Kingsley had been named Head Auror, he believed it had been convincing, so he consider this a fairly secure gamble.
It seemed he was right, or else Lucius was, on his own, even more determined to prevent another time period when he'd have to kneel at another man's feet than Alduin had expected, because the Malfoy man simply nodded curtly. "I'll see what I can do."
Then. And only then, did Alduin go home, and had a heart-to-heart with Alexandra.
"Do you believe any measures need to be taken right now?" She asked him once he was doen with his explanations.
Alduin took his time in considering his answer, then he said: "We are well enough protected here – for now – but increased care whenever you are out in the public is definitely advisable. Riddle no doubt knows Harry lives here, and he might want you as a bargaining chip with me – or even more likely, he might want one of the boys. He only has Pettigrew at his disposal for the moment, I believe, so the danger is still not too high, but...be careful."
Alexandra only nodded. "I go outside the Ancient family houses rarely enough," she said. "It should be no trouble to curtail it even more."
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The logistics of the World Cup, as it turned out, were kinda complicated.
Sophie was brought to the Manor the evening before they were supposed to leave, and settled into a guest room in Harry's wing. They were warned not to stay up too late, as they had an early morning ahead of them, but they couldn't quite restrain themselves, talking excitedly about what they expected from the following day.
It meant that they were exhausted and bleary eyed as they got up at the crack of dawn on the day of the match, dressing in Muggle clothes and collecting Neville, who arrived by Floo with his Gran. She, apparently, wished to impart some last-minute strictures on Alduin.
Harry was frustrated – he had hoped he'd have some time to talk to his friend alone. He had had a quick mirror-call with him after the disturbing dream and all that happened after, giving him a brief overview of what was going on, but he had hoped to discuss it some more in privacy. It seemed, however, that that would have to wait. By the time Mrs. Longbottom finally left, it was time to go.
Alduin took Harry and Alexandra took Sophie, and they side-Apparated them to a small, desolate hill. Alexandra then went right back, even as Sophie staggered on her feet.
"This is apparition?" She said. "Blah. I'd rather fly any day."
"That takes rather longer," Alduin said drily. "Now come on, we have to look for the Portkey. It'll probably look like a piece of junk, because the Ministry's ideas about security are always so poetic..."
Rather confused, Harry started to look around, even as Alexandra returned with Neville. "Why is it a piece of junk?" Harry asked. "I mean, the international ones we took were always just poles..."
"Because the Ministry chooses to organize this by letting them lying around, and they believe that by making it junk, the Muggles won't pick it up," Alduin replied, even drier than before.
"That's idiotic," Sophie said flatly. "Lots of people pick up junk, either because they're cleaning up or because they're homeless and trying to make some use of it."
Alduin nodded. "Yes," he said, "but that's the Ministry for you."
"Could it be this?" Neville asked tentatively, pointing at a broken jar.
Alduin came over and did a detection spell. "Yes," he said. "You've found it. Now let's all take a hold of it, it should go off in a few minutes."
They stood in a small circle, holding the broken jar between them.
"This is absurd," Sophie muttered.
"I concur," Alexandra said, frowning at the jar.
They stood in silence for a while longer before they were transported. Upon arrival, Sophie promptly fell on her bum. Harry managed to keep his balance just barely, having had more practice.
"Why," Sophie asked, "are all wizarding forms of travel so weird?"
"Five thirty from Hellidon Hill," a voice announced, and Harry looked around.
They were on a moor somewhere, and nearby there were two wizards who had apparently tried to dress as Muggles, only to fail miserably. Sophie stared at them. Harry did too, to be honest.
"What-" Sophie asked.
Harry shook his head at her. Better not to ask now.
"Good morning," Alduin said, stepping politely to the two men. "The name's Travers."
"Of course, sir," the man replied. "Your place is about a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you will come to. The site manager is called Mr. Roberts."
"Thank you, much obliged."
They headed in that direction. "What was that?" Sophie asked when they were barely out of hearing.
"What was what?" Alduin replied.
"They were dressed like scarecrows!" She pointed out.
"Yes, well, that is what you get when our esteemed fellow wizards attempt to dress like Muggles," Alduin said with an eyeroll one could actually hear in his voice. "I sometimes suspect that since it is no longer socially acceptable to express any disdain for the non-magical population in words, they at least do so by never bothering to learn anything at all when forced by circumstances to pretend to be its members. Had they but walked in Muggle London for fifteen minutes, they could have got an idea how to dress. But that, apparently, would be asking too much."
"It seems like it must be actual effort to get clothing this mismatched," Sophie observed.
"That might well be," Alduin agreed. "People's prejudices know no bounds."
They reached a stone cottage with a gate by it. A man was standing next to it, and Harry suspected that this was an actual Muggle, or at least a wizard with much better sense.
"Good morning," Alduin greeted him.
"Morning!" The man said, turning to them. "Ah, finally someone who looks like normal folks – though perhaps just a trifle fancy for a camping trip, aren't you, sir?"
"Are you Mr. Roberts?" Alduin asked instead of a reply.
"That I am," the man confirmed. "And you are?"
"Travers, Alduin Travers. I should have a space booked here for one tent."
Mr. Roberts checked some papers, then nodded. "Oh yes, here you are. Not far from here, in fact, just a few hundred meters straight on the main road. Will you be paying now?"
Alduin nodded, and handed over the money.
"Like I said," Mr. Roberts repeated as he gave them the change, "proper folks."
They headed through the gate and down the road, and Harry looked around at tents standing in the field. Even in the morning fog, they were, very clearly, not Muggle ones. They often had chimneys, or other rather unusual additions.
"Why was there a Muggle there?" He asked Alduin.
His cousin sighed. "Don't ask me," he said. "And don't think about it too much. It'll only be the more unpleasant the more you do. I can only tell you that, if I can find the time with all that is happening, I'll make sure the Institute takes a look into the way the Cup was organized, because I'm almost certain this is not only unethical, but illegal as well."
"I'm willing to bet they passed themselves a decree that grants them an exception for this," Alexandra muttered.
"Yes," Alduin agreed, "but it didn't go through Wizengamot, which means it's a decree of a lesser order, and I think could successfully be called into question as contradicting a higher norm."
They found their place. It was just a few spots away from a tent that had turrets and live peacocks walking in front of it. Alduin gave a sigh. "He's really not subtle, is he?" He muttered.
No one answered him, and Alduin took his sports bag off his shoulder and pulled out a small black parcel. He looked around, waved his wand – Harry looked at a passing group of visitors – and when he looked back, the tent was standing.
It had no clear signs of being magical, like chimneys, but it nevertheless seemed to Harry, even though he only knew muggle tents from the telly, that there was something decidedly odd about it. Its blackness was just a little too sleek, a little too elegant to be natural. And it was big. Alduin would barely have to bend his head to enter.
"If the point is pretending to be Muggles, you've just failed spectacularly," Sophie commented.
"Your forthrightness is...refreshing, Miss Roper," Alduin said in a tone dry as the desert, and Harry shifted in discomfort. "But while I don't mind it, I hope you will exercise more restraint in front of any friends of mien we meet here. They might not appreciate it, and as my guest, your behaviour reflects on me."
Sophie blushed, but also frowned. "I'm not gonna lie and pretend!" She declared.
Alduin pursed his lips. "I'm not asking you to lie, but surely you can take care to phrase your questions more politely? Anyway, as to your inquiry, I do not believe it matters at this point. I used a notice me not charm, so no one could have observed the actual magic, and there are enough strange things here. Besides, my incompetence in trying to construct a magical tent the Muggle way might have been more obtrusive."
Sophie was still scowling, but she didn't say anything else as Alduin entered the tent and brought out chairs for them and Alexandra took out the picnic basket and started distributing breakfast.
They ate mostly in silence as they watched people passing them. The fog was gradually cleaning up, and more and more of the bizarre tents were visible. When the Malfoys appeared on the road, Alduin raised his eyebrow.
They stopped by their spot when they noticed them, and Sophie was introduced. "Oh, yes," Mr. Malfoy drawled. "I think I've heard of you."
"I had assumed you were already here, by that palace over there," Alduin remarked.
Mr. Malfoy waved his hand. "I asked Crabbe to set it up for me in advance, to make sure we are comfortable when we arrive. Narcissa detests camping, so I tried to make it tolerable for her."
"I'm sure Alexandra can relate," Mrs. Malfoy observed.
"Oh, yes, perfectly," her cousin confirmed.
"I see you've already breakfasted," the Malfoy lady added, "but would you and your family stop by for elevenses?"
"We'll see what the youngsters' plans are," Alexandra said non-committally and the Malfoys nodded and withdrew.
When they were gone in their tent, Alduin said: "I'm sorry about this."
"About what?" Sophie asked, then bit her lip.
Harry, who unfortunately understood, said: "The invitation didn't include you. Or Neville."
"Though I don't doubt that if it was just him, Narcissa would have overcome herself enough to host a Longbottom in her tent," Alduin added. "Now, normally I'd flatly refuse, but the three of us are here as their guests, technically, and besides, I need something rather crucial from Lucius just at the moment. So what I propose is that I go with Alexandra and you, Harry, stay here with your friends. I'll make it clear that if Draco wants to speak with you – or be seen with you, which is what Lucius actually wants – he has to come here. Do you agree?"
Harry nodded, as Sophie gaped.
There was still a couple of hours left till it would be time for elevenses, so Harry and his friends decided to go find Seamus and Dean in the meantime. They had previously agreed among the Gryffindors to meet at their tent, since – as Seamus had claimed – it'd be impossible to miss the Irish section.
As they walked, Sophie turned to Harry and asked: "Does this happen often?"
Harry was confused. "You mean Malfoys being jerks?"
Sophie snorted. "Nah – I'd assume so – I mean your cousin being this...I don't know, manipulative?"
Harry shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah. I think it's his natural mode of operation. Honestly, dealing with people like the Malfoys, I don't know that he has much choice."
Sophie shook her head. "It sounds like hell to me."
Harry shrugged again. "I don't really mind. I mean, it gets results, and that's honestly the only thing that matters to me."
"I bet you'd get results if you just punched people like the Malfoys in the face, too," Sophie muttered.
Some results, for sure, Harry thought, but he didn't want to argue, so he stayed silent.
Seamus had been right, as it turned out, since there was a part of the campsite that was entirely green.
Before they came across Seamus, they saw Daphne and Astoria, sitting in front of a large tent that was at the very edge of the Irish section, and by far the biggest one there. It was also bright green, though it wasn't covered in shamrocks like the ones beyond it.
They greeted each other enthusiastically. "Have you seen Seamus?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yes, he's just a few tents away from here. I'll go with you. Coming?" She asked Astoria.
Astoria considered for a moment, then nodded and they set out.
Seamus and Dean truly were only a few tents away, and Ron and Ginny were already sitting with them. Harry and his friends plopped down and had a nice chat as they waited for Lavender.
"I told Harriet to join us here too, I hope you don't mind," Ginny said. "I wanted to meet up with her and Sophie both, and this really seemed like the best place."
No one had a problem with Harriet, so they all nodded placidly. She appeared before Lavender did, with her friend Mahnoor with her.
"What time is it?" Asked Harry a little nervously. "I really think I should be back by eleven..."
"I think you still got time-" Seamus started to say, but just then, Lavender appeared, and after a brief greeting, they all headed back to the Travers tent.
They were stopped a few times on the way by other people they knew, like Oliver Wood, who had apparently just signed a contract with Puddlemere United to play reserve, or Cho Chang, whom Harry greeted rather awkwardly before he hurried on.
Alduin welcomed them all warmly, and told them to take their fill of elevenses from the picnic basket – which was, apparently, much larger on the inside – as they left to go see the Malfoys.
It was quite a while before Draco joined them, and he seemed rather disgruntled. "Couldn't you have come over there?" He asked Harry in a low voice.
"No," Harry replied curtly. "You heard the way your mother issued the invitation. Neville and Sophie are here as my guests, Draco, so if for no other reason, I'd have to stay with them for that."
Draco didn't say anything, and didn't stop scowling.
The rest of them ate and talked and people-watched. The Shacklebolts turned out to be camped not too far away from them, and Kiara and Katie came to chat for a long time.
"So, did you make prefect?" Harry asked Kiara.
"Yes!" She said enthusiastically. "I'm so looking forward to bossing all of you around!"
Roger stopped by too, but only for a moment – without Horatio, who would only be arriving in the evening, he had less interest in talking to them. Alduin and Alexandra returned, and Draco, Daphne and Astoria, as well as Harriet and Mahnoor, left not too long after to go to Millicent's family for lunch. The rest of them ate together, Alexandra cordially inciting them, and after that, all of the remaining Weasleys came over to sit with them for a time. It was then that Alduin once again spotted someone he knew on the path around them.
"Mr. Bartemius!" He said. "I haven't seen you for ages!"
The man stopped and turned around. If Mr. Roberts thought Alduin was dressed too sharply, Harry wondered what he thought about Mr. Bartemius, in his perfect suit without a speck of dirt on it. Given where they were, there had to be magic involved.
"Alduin," he said. "I haven't had the time, but it's good to see you. And Arthur! I've been needing to speak to you."
It was at this point that Percy apparently woke up from his paralysis upon seeing the man, because he stood up and sort of half-bowed in a way that looked very strange. "Mr. Crouch!" he said breathlessly.
"Oh. Weatherby."
Fred and George choked with laugher as Percy turned pink. Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek, and even Alduin's face seemed to twitch a little. "Will you sit down with us?" He asked.
"No, thank you – too busy with organizing. Arthur, Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."
Mr. Weasley sighed. "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"
"I doubt it," Mr. Bartemius replied. "He's desperate to export here."
"Well, the ban is absurd," Alduin commented. "I wasn't conscious when it was passed, but it must have been at the height of the broomstick lobby. Did he try going through the Shafiqs?"
That caught Mr. Bartemius' interest. "I'm not certain. Do you believe they would help?"
"I'm confident Mr. Shafiq could make the ban look like a...well, like a Smith kind of rhetoric, and you know how unpopular that is in Wizengamot."
"Not just in Wizengamot," Mr. Bartemius replied drily. "Very well, thank you for the recommendation. I'll tell him."
Mr. Bartemius left, then, and all that was left was Percy's embarrassment and the twins' sniggers.
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AM: Sophie is firmly of the "punch Nazis in the face" school. Also, this just might be the longest chapter of this story so far!