Chapter 6

A loud scream resounded not so far away, making Alastor jump to his feet and draw his wand while his eye made a quick 360 degree scan. His normal eye immediately darted towards his Foe-glass, and he focused his hearing to catch any other sound. All his Sneakoscopes were silent, though, and the Foe-glass was reflecting nothing at all. His eye-scan reported some kids playing around the block, and now that he paid closer attention he realized that they were shouting and laughing.

Swearing under his breath, he let himself fall to the couch again and tried to figure out what he had missed during his last paranoid episode. It took him several minutes to catch up, and he swore again when it became clear that he had missed a really important scene. Some clue had been revealed, and without it he would not be able to solve the mystery before those idiots in the Muggle play box.

"Damn you, clumsy morph head!" he grumbled.

It was her fault that he was so on edge these days. Tonks and her Muggle crap. He had said 'no' when she had suggested it, but of course the stubborn Puff had ignored him and had snuck into his house when he was out to install the damned thing. Probably her father had helped, else Alastor might have found his house burned to the ground at his return.

Another sound, this time coming from the back yard, put him again in high alert. But it was just a cat, he saw through several walls. Or was it? If he could narrow his magical eye, he would be doing so now. A cat could be an Animagus, and his eye would be of no use spotting one of those for what it really was. The dark detectors weren't sensing anything, though. Hmmm... Maybe it was just one of the neighbour's cats? It did look familiar, and it was doing cat things, not watching his house. And now it was gone... Yeah, he could see it eating at his neighbour's kitchen.

He focused again on the play box, and saw that it was commercial time. Just great.

"You should have a TV to entertain yourself in your retirement, Mad-Eye!" she had said full of excitement. "What else are you going to do in your old age?"

Old age my ass!, he thought angrily. He wasn't that old. And he didn't need a Muggle artifact to entertain himself, he had plenty to do during his retirement. Although he had to admit that the TV thing was entertaining...

All right, it was awesome, really cool stuff.

The problem was that it was Muggle, and so it didn't always work. His magic sometimes interfered with it, which was why he had to be careful not to cast anything while he watched. Even a simple summoning charm caused the image to flicker, and anything stronger than that cut off the eclecticity entirely.

Wards were completely out of the question, and that was why he was so jumpy. If he wanted to watch the Muggle box, he couldn't have magical wards raised around his house, and that went against all his instincts.

He was making an extra effort trying to understand what was going on with those Muggle please-men after everything he had missed when three loud knocks really close by almost gave him a heart attack. This time he reacted defensively by reflex, sending a few hexes in the direction of the sound while he raised a shield around him. He acted so fast that he had already blasted the door off its hinges when his senses informed him that none of his Dark Detectors had been activated and that the person standing outside his house looked remarkably familiar and non-threatening.

The TV thing flicked on again once the recent magic had cleared the air, but Alastor turned it off immediately.

"Well, come in!" he growled, limping towards the entrance hall. "Could have announced yourself before I blew off my door, don't you think?"

Albus bloody Dumbledore chuckled as he stepped over the debris.

"I Apparated three blocks from here, you should have had enough warning," he commented.

"No Intruder Charm up," Alastor admitted gruffly. He fixed the door in a blink (it wasn't the first time he had to do it) and checked outside to make sure the neighbours had not noticed anything. They were used to his eccentricities, after so many years. He rarely needed to confund or obliviate them anymore.

"That sounds oddly off-guard for you."

Alastor didn't say anything. He would rather train Nymphadora Tonks for three more years than to admit to Dumbledore that he had prioritized Muggle TV over basic security.

He still felt on edge while he prepared tea, his eye swirling in all directions in search of potential threats. Nothing would happen while Dumbledore was here, though, he knew that. Not even You-Know-Who had ever dared confronting him. And he was the real Dumbledore, else his dark detectors would be doing something right now.

"So... what's up?" he asked finally, sitting in an armchair. "I didn't expect you for tea until next year or so."

Every five years in times of peace, that was their understanding. No need to see each other face to face more often than that when there wasn't a war to fight. Neither Alastor nor Dumbledore were good at being friends (if people like them could ever make friends), and they had found that five years was about time enough for them to cool off after one of their meetings.

"How is life in retirement going?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkling in his eyes that made Alastor sure that he knew about the TV thing.

"It's fine," he growled. "Just spit it out, Dumbledore, I don't have all day."

The old man took all the time in the world to sip his tea and put his cup back on his plate. He was clearly stalling, and that didn't bode anything good.

"I have come to offer you the DADA position at Hogwarts," he said finally, the twinkling gone.

Alastor snorted.

"You shouldn't have bothered coming all this way, Dumbledore. The answer is hell no, as you well know."

"Alastor..."

"No, Dumbledore," he cut him off brusquely, "I'm retired. Merlin knows that I have earned my rest. I should have stepped down after the war, but Amelia always managed to convince me of taking on some new trainee. I swore Tonks would be the last, though. I certainly don't intend to give up my retirement to teach hundreds of useless toddlers."

"I need you this year, Alastor..."

"I said no, Dumbledore," he repeated. "And not just because I'm too bloody tired. That position is cursed!"

"It most likely is," admitted Dumbledore. "But that doesn't mean anything bad would happen to you. Some DADA teachers simply step down at the end of the year for personal reasons."

"Some. Others end up without memories, like that smiley moron. Or worse, I seem to recall. I have kept track of all your DADA teachers in the last two decades, you know."

"Then you know that only a few have died. If you're concerned about the curse, we can directly arrange for a one year contract and make that your reason to leave."

Alastor snorted again. As if that would be enough to counteract whatever powerful curse was hovering over the job.

"Why don't you hire a Curse-Breaker as the DADA teacher?" he suggested. "Give some specialist an entire year to sort the problem. That Weasley kid might be willing, the one in Egypt."

Dumbledore shook his head.

"I have already had the best Curse-Breakers looking into it. They didn't find any evidence, which led them to believe that it's the sort of curse than can only be broken by killing the caster."

Alastor grunted in annoyance.

"Then tell me who cast the curse or any clue you have and I will take care of it. I might come out of retirement to catch another dark wizard, not to teach bloody teenagers how not to stick their wands up their nostrils."

"My guess is that the curse was put in place by Lord Voldemort," answered Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling once more. "It would be really useful if you took care of it, now that I think about it."

Alastor swore internally. Of course it had been that twisted bastard. Probably to mess with Dumbledore. It was kind of funny, actually, knowing all the trouble that the curse had caused so far.

"I definitely won't be coming out of retirement for that," he said firmly. How did you even kill someone who couldn't really die? Not that Alastor would have such a great chance of hitting him with a Killing Curse, of course. He might be a hardened Auror with a lot of captures and kills in his record, but You-Know-Who was a different matter. Besides, he couldn't move as fast as he used to with this damned leg. "You might as well hire the Weasley kid anyway. He did a few rounds in the department when he was training as a Curse-Breaker, I remember thinking he would make a good Auror."

"Bill Weasley has a contract with the goblins, he would not be able to take another job for at least three more years even if he wanted, which I doubt he would."

"Well, then hire anyone else, Dumbledore! Anyone would do, and anyone would be better than Lockhart. I still don't know what the hell you were thinking that year..."

"No one else wanted the job," Dumbledore explained with a shrug.

"Then you should have hired no one!"

"That's not an option, Alastor. We have to have a DADA teacher, you know how important that subject is. I'm not even sure the curse would allow me to leave the position empty."

"Give Snape the job!" exclaimed Alastor suddenly, hit by a wave of brilliant inspiration. "I heard the slimly snake beat some kind of record in his DADA's OWLs and NEWTs (which is not surprizing considering he's as dark a wizard as they come), so he'll be better than Lockhart at the very least. And that way you will be rid of him by the end of the year! "

Dumbledore sighed.

"Severus wouldn't accept, and I won't offer," he said. "The DADA position would risk his permanence at Hogwarts, which is something neither of us wants. Besides, he's an excellent Potions teacher."

"I don't understand how can you keep that piece of filth in your school, Dumbledore," growled Alastor in frustration. "And with access to Harry bloody Potter!"

"I have already told you," said Dumbledore tiredly. "Severus turned to our side before the war was over. He spied for us."

Alastor snorted.

"That's what you think. The man is an expert Occlumens and Legilimens, he could convince you that he's Merlin in the flesh. And you yourself admitted that he was playing both sides, so he was either fooling you or You-Know-Who, or both."

"I trust Severus Snape," declared the old man with that tone of his that broke no further arguments.

Sometimes Alastor really wanted to slap some sense into him.

"You are a fool, Dumbledore. Snape has done really nasty shit, and I'd bet my other eye that he enjoyed it."

"He has a dark past," admitted the trustful fool, "but he came around. Now he's no more a Death Eater than I am."

"Death Eaters will always be Death Eaters. Rotten, the lot of them, down to the core."

"Enough with that," said Dumbledore firmly. "I didn't come here to discuss Severus. I need you at Hogwarts this year, Alastor. As extra security during the Triwizard Tournament."

Alastor had been about to protest, but he choked with his own words.

"What?"

"The Goblet of Fire has been activated, so the Triwizard Tournament will be celebrated again this year. At Hogwarts."

The words seemed impossible, but Alastor was sure he had heard right. And there was something very serious in Dumbledore's eyes that ruled out any possibility of this being a sick joke.

Dumbledore had his war look on.

"I know Fudge is a moron," said Alastor at last, "but I'm finding hard to believe that three different Ministers reached together the same level of idiocy without anyone slapping them out of it."

"They didn't ask for anyone's advise. And I'm thinking Confundment rather than natural idiocy."

Alastor could feel his brief retirement coming to an end.

"So... You-Know-Who?" he asked. Who else could put in motion such an elegant, ambitious plot?

"That is my guess," nodded Dumbledore.

Alastor had learned to trust Dumbledore's guesses, and to not waste breath trying to get him to explain. The old man rarely gave clearly affirmative or negative answers. Always "I guess", or "it's hard to tell", or "I'm not sure but maybe". One could never be sure if Dumbledore actually had any good idea, nor if he was being completely honest. And no matter how much one might insist demanding clarifications, the answers only got more convoluted and uncertain. But his damned guesses were often right, so that was that.

If Albus Dumbledore suspected You-Know-Who was back or at least doing mischief again, Alastor believed him. And if that was the case, then the first target would be Harry Potter, who would soon be trapped in Hogwarts with the Goblet of Fire.

"Take the boy away," he advised, not the slightest doubt inside him. "Expel him now and hide him under a random rock in Africa. I bet there is some country down there that doesn't detect underage magic."

Dumbledore sighed.

"I think that would be an overreaction, Alastor."

"I don't think it's overreaction enough. The boy is the obvious target, Dumbledore! Hogwarts is clearly the place where You-Know-Who or whoever is behind this wants Potter to be, so you must make sure the kid is anywhere else. Just take him away until it's all over."

"Harry is in the middle of his magical education..."

"He can be educated under a rock in Africa," argued Alastor. "I can take him if you're busy here. For that I might come out of retirement."

"Harry will not go into hiding," said Dumbledore firmly. "We're not there yet. He might be the obvious target, but that doesn't mean he will come to any harm this year. There will be an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire to prevent anyone underage to enter their names, so Harry will not have any chance of participating in the Tournament."

Alastor snorted.

"You think an Age Line will stop You-Know-Who?"

"I will draw the line myself. Harry will not be a champion, Alastor. But I fear for his safety anyway, under such suspicious circumstances, which is why I want you at Hogwarts this year. I particularly want you to keep an eye on Igor Karkaroff, who will arrive in October with the Durmstrang delegation."

Alastor grunted.

"Another piece of filth. Any more Death Eaters you want to invite to your school?"

"I am hoping they will be the only two. And we only have to concern ourselves with Karkaroff."

"Snape is more dangerous, I say. Especially if You-Know-Who is back. He's perfectly placed to spy on you and even deliver the boy at a word from his master. He might even be the one to kill you, Dumbledore!"

The old fool made a dismissive gesture. Perhaps Dumbledore truly needed someone with a bit of sense at Hogwarts, someone to keep an eye or two on his blind spots. Alastor was willing to bet that Dumbledore even lowered his guard in Snape's presence, and that he would drink any potion that he offered him. The greasy snake might have been bidding his time all these years, but no doubt he was ready to strike as soon as he received the order from his master.

"Damn you, Dumbledore!"

The old man chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

"Do you accept the job, then?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" growled Alastor. "You and the boy will be surrounded by Death Eaters, and one of you will not even be vigilant enough around the most dangerous of them. I heard Potter at least has more sense than you in that regard."

"Harry and Severus dislike each other, that's true. But Severus would never harm him," said Dumbledore, sounding completely sure. He stood up, an annoying smile of satisfaction on his annoying face. "I will see you on September 1st. Do try to leave Severus alone, Alastor. He's not the most patient of men."

"Sure, Dumbledore, I will leave him well alone," lied Alastor as he also climbed to his feet and escorted the annoying wizard to the door. "I would never dream to try his patience."

Alastor turned on the Muggle play box as soon as he was alone again, but he couldn't pay attention to it. Trust Dumbledore to ruin your day and your whole retirement plan in less than two cups of tea. Just like that, his rest was over and he had committed himself to teach dunderheads and watch Death Eaters for an entire year. Well, at least watching Snape and Karkaroff would be fun. Free Death Eaters were always nervous around him.

But he was pretty sure that Muggle TV would not work inside Hogwarts.

Hmm... Perhaps he should raise some wards and put an Intruder Charm up. It would not be pleasant to be caught off guard by a reincarnated You-Know-Who. Surely Muggle entertainment wasn't worth the risk...

One of his favourite detective shows started just then, though, so he decided to put off the wards until tomorrow.

Although there was supposed to be a special episode on Saturday...

What were the chances of You-Know-Who paying him a visit, anyway? And it wasn't like he wasn't in constant alert all the time.

It made sense to watch as much TV as possible before he went to Hogwarts, he concluded after making another 360 degree scan around his house.