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Harry Potter And The Game of Death

Level 1

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Suspicious Deal

Ding!

You Have Been Transported to a Special Area

Welcome to the Ministry Managed World Quidditch Cup

Current Location: Public Zone

Ding!

Spell and Rune Wards Detected

Active:

Anti-Apparation Ward

Anti-Floo Ward

Muggle-Repelling Ward

Basic Surveillance Ward

Inactive:

Anti-Portkey Ward

Lockdown Ward

Spell Detection Wards

Tracking Wards

A metric ton of alerts flashed before Harry's eyes as he found himself falling through the air. As to why he was falling… well, suffice it to say that Harry had been forced to try out another method of magical travel.

Per usual, it did not agree with him.

"Ha! Kiddo, you have got to be the worst person ever when it comes to magical travel. And after hearing the horror stories from Andromeda about Dora's youth, that's saying something."

"Oh, shove it where the sun doesn't shine, Sirius," Harry groaned as he pulled himself up from the ground. His head ached where it had clipped a stone, while his wrists were scraped and sore from where he had tried – and failed – to cushion his landing. "I hate travelling by portkey. Let's never do it again."

"Sorry kid. But according to the Ministry's rules all civilian travellers to and from the Cup have to travel by portkey." Sirius gave Harry a quick clap on the shoulder before moving towards a tall wooden pole with a sign on it; a harried looking wizard dressed in Ministry robes stood underneath it, accepting all manner of used portkeys from a steady stream of magical folk. "Let's make some room for the next group and head over to the side; there's a few things we need to discuss before we split up."

Harry gave a short nod of acknowledgement and shifted his aching body. As he did, his mind flashed back to events of the previous few days.

When the Game of Death's new quest had appeared, Harry had immediately accepted it, much to Sirius' later chagrin. But when the older man had pressed Harry on why he had done so without consulting either himself or Remus, Harry's response had been clear.

Sure, the quest could very well end up being dangerous. And yes, Harry had felt more than a little resentful at having his incredible summer upended by yet more interference by the evil magic users who seemed to plague his life. But when lives were at stake and there was something he could do to protect them, then Harry would always choose to protect them.

That had not been the end of it, of course. Piqued and annoyed by Harry's decision to, as Sirius put it, ignore his own health and safety based on information from a suspicious source, Harry's godfather – and to a lesser degree, Remus – had been difficult to convince about the necessity of stopping the plot on their own. Which was wildly different than Harry's experiences with Hermione and Ron; Hermione's attempts to be the voice of reason aside, Harry's two friends had usually been rather eager to join him on their adventures.

Two days of bitter arguments over the matter had culminated in writing a letter to Dumbledore informing the old wizard of the situation. And only when the Headmaster had responded, writing that he was out of the country for the foreseeable future and advised that they follow Harry's lead in the matter in the meantime did the arguments come to an end.

For the most part, as Sirius did continue to grumble about the subject whenever the Game of Death was mentioned.

But with the argument having been mostly settled, Harry had managed to convince the two older men to assist him. And after several days spent planning their initial moves, they were now at the Quidditch World Cup.

Constant flashes of light heralded group after group as witches and wizards of all stripes began to appear in the designated port-key area. Men and women; young and old; dark skin and white skin; bald women and men with flowing locks of hair; the different types of people who appeared in flashes of magic were as varied as Harry could have imagined.

Strangest of all were their clothes.

As Sirius had mentioned, one of the ministry's rules for the World Cup had been that everyone going to and from the World Cup would be required to wear Muggle clothing.

A part of Harry had hoped that foreign wizards and witches would have a better sense of Muggle fashion than their British peers. But if the bizarre outfits Harry saw before him were any indication, it would seem that the foreigner magic users were just as bad at creating Muggle outfits as their British counterparts. Harry saw more examples of night clothes and swimwear paired with winter outfits than was reasonable, with more than a few specimens getting shoved into the recesses of his brain.

The sound of unfamiliar languages and accents filled the air as the different groups started to mob the Ministry wizard who had just accepted the portkey from Sirius; as the poor man held up his hands under the verbal barrage, Harry could see why he looked so harried.

But the poor man's torment was a blessing in disguise for Harry.

Seeing an opportunity to gather some information amidst the controlled chaos, Harry took advantage of the distraction to use 'Observe'. He managed to create almost forty new entries before the situation became too dangerous to use the ability any further.

Harry minimized the Game's notifications as Sirius came over.

"Alright boys, here's what's going on," Sirius said softly. "An owl I sent several days ago worked out. My ol' pal Ludo, ever eager to get his face and name into the public consciousness, has agreed to get the three of us backstage V.I.P. passes for the remainder of the Cup. In return, he wanted in on Harry's upcoming duel with Draco and plans to take the announcer's role. The moron will probably ask for a public meet and greet at some point, and maybe a few signatures on memorabilia he can hawk on the side as well, but that should be the limit of his demands."

. "Should I be worried? Aside from my father and Remus, I haven't really heard of any 'old friends' of yours. And not to be rude or anything, but this Ludo person sounds like a bit of a twit from what you've mentioned."

When Harry had told Sirius that he was willing to pay any price to make sure they had access to the restricted areas of the stadium, he had worried that his fame as the Boy-Who-Lived would come into play. This Ludo person definitely sounded like he was angling to make use of Harry's status, and Harry had suffered enough of that with Lockhart to last a lifetime.

Sirius made a dismissive motion with his hand. "Nah. Sure the guy's an idiot, and I'd never trust him to watch my back in a wand-fight, but he's rather important these days. He's a former Quidditch player who got promoted to head one of the Ministry departments that's overseeing this circus. Besides, he's easy as hell to manipulate. Stroke the man's ego even a little and he'll treat you like his best friend."

"Great," Harry groused. "I can't wait to meet him."

"Hey – you're the one who pressed for this to happen, kiddo. And to get the kind access we'll need to do it right on such short notice we either need to pay an obscene amount of money – which I won't have access to until I fully inherit my family's wealth – or have someone high in the Ministry food chain throw us a bone for a few favours in return. So unless you want to do a full 'Boy-Who-Lived' media blitz, this is the best option we've got."

"Yeah… I'm not doing that. Ever." Harry commented as he rolled his eyes. "Just… try not to make any other deals with him regarding me. Okay?"

"Of course! We might be using him, but there's no way I'd ever put you into a compromising situation." Sirius brought Harry in close for a quick hug. "In any case, I'll need to follow up with him to get the passes before we enter, so it's best if we split up here for now like we agreed."

"Alright. Send us a message when you're done so we can start working for real."

They had used the Game of Death to form a 'Party' before coming and all three of them could send messages by Patronus in an emergency as well. Communicating with each other throughout the event should be a cinch.

"You bet. Remus, take care of things while I'm gone. I'll see ya both in a bit!"

With that, Sirius handed their tickets over to Remus and jogged off.

As Sirius disappeared into the crowd, Remus looked at Harry and raised a questioning eyebrow. He was just about to say something when a voice in the crowd cried out, "Remus? Remus Lupin?"

Turning around, Harry and the brown-haired man noticed a woman jogging towards them. With horn-rimmed glasses and a scarlet purse with claws for clasps, she managed to stick out in the eclectic crowd. Mostly because she was wearing less Muggle clothing than others, which was an oddity considering the Ministry's rules.

"Bloody hell!" Remus swore under his breath upon seeing her. Turning swiftly, he gave Harry a quick push and shake of his head. "Harry, this isn't someone you want to meet; she's not dangerous, but Sirius would never forgive me if I let her sink her claws into you. Go and explore the grounds while I distract her and make sure to send me a message once you get somewhere we can meet up. I'll come as soon as I manage to shake her."

Harry opened his mouth in confusion, but at the look in Remus' eyes which brooked no question, merely nodded. "Alright. I'll be sure to let you or Sirius know if I run into any trouble."

Remus gave a quick nod of his own. Then he moved towards the woman to head her off and block his ward from her sight.

Harry left the area as well and looked around to see if there was a map or something which detailed the stadium ground's layout. After a bit of searching, he spotted a nearby sign labelled with arrows marking out different points of interest.

He made his way over to it and considered the options.


Remus squared his shoulders as he came to a stop. "Rita Skeeter. To what do I owe this unpleasant encounter?"

A faux smile plastered all over her face, the woman's blond curls bounced as she gave him a cutesy greeting not at all appropriate for her age. "Oh, Remus, don't be so grumpy. It's been so long since we last met! Can't we just talk for a little bit like old friends?"

"No. And please don't address me so informally. You and Sirius may have had that short fling ages ago, but you and I were never friends. Nor have I forgotten the article you tried to write about me last year when I became the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore and Minerva might have told him to pay it no heed, but Skeeter had nearly managed to end Remus' teaching career before it had started. It was only because she had missed the initial filing deadline, and because of heavy pressure from Dumbledore and Andromeda on her editors, that news of Remus being a werewolf had not been plastered all over the Daily Prophet's front page the day before Hogwarts had started its most recent term.

But Skeeter merely gave a short titter at his words. "Oh, don't be like that, Remus. It was never personal. I was only following up on a tip a concerned citizen had given me."

"Would this 'concerned citizen' happen to be Lucius Malfoy? Or one of his associates?"

"A reporter never reveals their sources. You know that. Besides, your being a werewolf is old news, and old news isn't what will get more people to read my articles. I'm more interested in the topics of the day, you know, and the two people I just saw you with? My readers would love to know more about them." A predatory gleam came into the woman's green eyes as she spoke. "How is dear Sirius doing these days? Is his time with young Harry helping them both recover from their shared traumas?"

Why this no good, two-faced, vile piece of scum! Remus' desire to keep her far away from the two people closest to him only hardened. She gave reporters everywhere a bad name, and unlike Sirius back in their youth, Remus was not a horny fool interested in her body.

"Sirius and Harry are both well," Remus bit out softly. "And the further you stay away from them, the better."

The dangerous gleam in her eyes grew.

"Can I quote you on that?" The clawed clasps on her scarlet bag broke open, allowing a piece of parchment and a poisonous green quill to float into the air between them. "I'm sure my readers would be very interested to learn that their national hero and the man who had been unjustly incarcerated for over a decade have such a fierce and dedicated protector at their side."

"No, you cannot," Remus responded firmly. He drew his wand and gave it a quick flick; a basic magic nullification field, capable of temporarily stopping lesser spells, sprang into being. It suppressed the Charms on her quill and parchment and forced the nasty woman to grab them before they fell onto the dirt path on which they stood. "Now, if that is all, I'll be off."

Remus had no desire to be nearby this poor excuse for a person any longer. Their discussion should have bought Harry enough time to make good on his escape. Which meant that his reason for talking to her had reached a conclusion and he could leave her far, far behind as he went to join the boy.

"Wait! Remus, before you go, you should really hear me out."

Remus ignored the woman and kept on walking.

"Fine! Have it your way." A note of sly cunning entered her voice as she lowered it to just above a whisper. Only someone with enhanced hearing like Remus could have picked it up in this noisy crowd, a fact she must have counted on. "I have information in my possession which concerns Harry's safety. And if you want to know it, you'll have to give me something in return."

Remus paused his steps. He had told Harry that Skeeter was not a threat based on his past meetings with her; the woman was as malicious and obsequious as they came but was an average spellcaster at best.

Yet there were other ways to harm someone than brute force.

Slowly, Remus turned to face her once again. And this time, he gave her his full attention.


Three hours later found Harry making his way through the crowd. Still on his own, he had neither sent nor received a message from either Remus or Sirius. And while he was enjoying the magical sights which surrounded him, a large part of him was growing increasingly frustrated.

The mission to stop the attack on the World Cup had been a complete bust thus far. Not because Harry had failed to find anything suspicious or dangerous. But because he had found so much that it had caused him to break out in a cold sweat.

A Hag who loved to eat human flesh was posing as a travelling Seer.

A table of Dark Artefacts from the plains of Africa, its purveyor a man who wore a cursed turban with the feather of a phoenix set in its brim.

A potion shop filled with brews so deadly they could have wiped out a quarter of London's population in under half-a-day. And whose Dutch owner could have given Snape a run for his money in the greasy haired, sallow skinned department.

There was even someone openly waving a millennia old sacrificial dagger in the street whilst asking who was willing to give their lives to guarantee the victory of their chosen team.

Everywhere Harry looked, there was a person or collection of items which screamed out 'danger' with a capital D, with the surrounding crowds of people being either completely oblivious or utterly uncaring. It only seemed to serve as confirmation for Harry and Hermione's theory that wizards and witches lacked common sense. Especially when Harry saw a man wearing sandals, a swimsuit, and a rather ostentatious sombrero accept the cursed dagger wielder's offer.

The only bright side to it all was that the Ministry was cracking down on things.

The man with the sacrificial dagger got stunned and taken away by a pair of Ministry Aurors just after he began leading the interested fan away from the public area. While others, like the Hag and the owner of the poisonous Potions, had run when a Ministry official had spotted them.

The worst part of it, though, was that none of these dangers seemed to be related to the Game's quest. And after hours of searching, Harry was getting tired.

So he decided that now would be as good a time as any to take a break.

To that end Harry sat himself down on a small bench located at the edge of the nearby forest. While there, he decided to look through some of the notifications he had gained by using 'Observe.'

Thanks to his level gains under Sirius and Remus' instruction, and the duels with Dora that left him aching afterwards, Harry had gained enough levels to where he was now able to see the information of most adults.

Lisa Atkins:

A working woman and mother of six, Lisa is a seventh generation Londoner. Upon finishing her primary magical education at Grimwart's School of Magic, she landed her dream job at Madam Malkin's store in Diagon Alley. Her favourite thing to do is to read the latest Quidditch news while sipping a steaming cup of tea.

Age: 45

Level 124

Stats:

STR: 43

DEX: 74

CON: 54

INT: 154

WIS: 112

CHA: 89

Traits:

Normal Citizen

Prude

Quidditch Fan

Vasile Bobrov:

A Russian born wizard, Vasile's parents were both Muggleborn survivors of a Communist purge. Russian wizards found him at an orphanage and, upon seeing him use magic, enrolled him at a now deceased school for wizards and witches. He is a brewer by trade.

Age: 57

Level 149

Stats:

STR: 52

DEX: 65

CON: 64

INT: 264

WIS: 137

CHA: 119

Traits:

Normal Citizen

Follower

Quidditch Fan

Akiki Rwamirama:

A man of mixed tribal descent, Akiki works for an international trading group. He often poses as a Muggle shipping employee and is experienced in their practices. He favours Muggle fashion over that of wizarding fashion.

Age: 36

Level 115

Stats:

STR: 65

DEX: 74

CON: 44

INT: 189

WIS: 105

CHA: 108

Traits:

Normal Citizen

Overbearing

Quidditch Fan

Andre Lavoie:

Andre thinks that he is God's gift to women. The fact that he is rather good-looking and easy on the eyes helps to feed his sizeable ego, but it is his smooth talking that truly sets the hearts of women aflutter. He prefers older ladies and seeks to marry a rich dowager and have a bevy of mistresses by the time he is thirty.

Age: 25

Level 108

Stats:

STR: 58

DEX: 73

CON: 57

INT: 120

WIS: 93

CHA: 139

Traits:

Normal Citizen

Don Juan

Quidditch Fan

From what Harry could see, both he and Hermione were heads and shoulders above most other people in terms of their stats, traits, and titles. Just like the students at Hogwarts, most of the adults Harry had observed only had a few traits like the rather generically named 'Normal Citizen' and 'Quidditch Fan' traits.

Once Harry finished reading and saving the various stat pages for later recording, he stretched his shoulders to get rid of the stiffness from sitting. Then, feeling the call of nature, he chose to duck behind a nearby group of bushes in order to relieve himself. The lines in front of the public loos had been ludicrous, and there was no way Harry would subject himself to them if there was another alternative.

Just after he had unzipped his trousers and started fishing inside to move his pants out of the way, Harry heard two voices coming from close behind him. Neither sounded familiar or interested in what he was doing, so Harry ignored them and went about his business.

"Damn Sirius Black to hell," the voice of a man muttered. "That insolent prick should've been kept in Azkaban to rot! Because of his stupid argument with Lucius and their bloody agreement, our jobs for this Cup just got a whole lot harder."

"Mayhap, Morgan, but that's a problem for the future; don't lose sight that we've still got a job to do today," a second man replied. "The morning's unplanned meeting with Black at the stadium just made it harder to Imperius the target. Malfoy -"

"Wait. We should call him Lord Malfoy, right? Like he wants us to?" the first voice said with a snigger.

"Not on your life. Lucius may be noble born, but the man is certainly no Lord of mine. Respect for his empty title seems to be the one thing his gold can't buy these days." A pause. "Well, that and a loyal wife, but Narcissa always was the brains of the operation between them."

A second, higher pitched snigger followed as the first man laughed again, shortly followed by the second man.

His curiosity piqued by their conversation, Harry finished his business as fast as he could. This was the best lead Harry had come across thus far and he would not let it pass by.

He zipped up his trousers and creeped closer to better overhear their conversation.

"Anyway," continued the second man, "Malfoy really won't be happy with us if we fail, and he does have us by throat. So keep tight to me as we walk; the git was able to influence the Ministry's patrol schedule enough to open up this window and we'd best keep to it. We don't want any mishaps with the Aurors because we were laughing over the fool's domestic problems."

The first man gave a sympathetic groan. "Yeah, silencing witnesses can be a real pain sometimes, and if it caused us to miss the rendezvous and get in trouble with the law we'd be right screwed, so we would."

Finished with their talk, the two men began to walk away at a quick march. The sound of their footsteps faded as the pair moved away from the stadium area and towards a distant line of trees.

Not one to be left behind, Harry sprang into motion.

Using the 'Party' feature, Harry sent a pair of messages racing off to Remus and Sirius informing the two that he had located two suspicious individuals and was in pursuit. Then Harry activated his 'Inventory' feature, pulled out his father's invisibility cloak, and swept it over his shoulders just in time for Remus and Sirius to both send him a reply.

After ignoring the messages – he knew that the two men would only be telling him to stay put and not go into danger – and making sure the Cloak was fully covering him, Harry closed the 'Inventory' and began to tail the two men through the woods.

The path they took was a winding one. Every few minutes, they would veer off to the side or double back on their trail, making it hard to know exactly where they were headed.

They seemed to be rather paranoid about being followed, as their heads subtly moved in ways that Harry, with his long experience ducking Filch at Hogwarts, recognized as searching for someone hidden or trying to follow them. More than once was Harry forced to swiftly dodge behind a rock or tree so as to avoid running face first into one of the men.

As the sounds of the Quidditch celebrations faded further into the background, the undergrowth began to grow thicker. Dried leaves and broken sticks littered the floor, making it increasingly more difficult for Harry to move quietly.

Thankfully, tracking them was easy since they were wearing wizarding robes as opposed to Muggle clothing. The dark black cloth stuck out like an elephant standing in the open.

After what felt like an hour had passed, the man in the lead came to a sudden stop. He whipped around, thrust his wand directly at Harry's location, and let out a hissed phrase, "Homenum Revelio!"

A blast of magic shot out from the wand. As it did, Harry felt his heart lurch against his ribcage and let his feet grind to a halt.

He didn't recognize the spell, but its name was enough for him to take a guess. He could only trust in the power of his father's cloak to keep him hidden from the man's spell and pray that he had not gotten himself in over his head. He had tested the cloak with Hermione before they had left Hogwarts and had found that it seemed to block spells and abilities, like the Game's 'Observe', but there was always a chance they had missed something.

Seconds ticked by without any sign of Harry being discovered. And when seconds turned into minutes, the man who had cast the spell cocked his head to one side.

A child's mask, similar to ones Harry had seen others purchase at merchant booths back at the Stadium, covered his face. "No one's there. Sorry for the scare, Morgan," the man said as he straightened and turned around. "It must've been some stupid animal I heard."

The other man waved a hand in acceptance, a similar mask to that of his companion covering his own face. "It's been a while since we've worked in the field ourselves, Yaxley, and we're both a little rusty. But I don't want to end up in Azakaban anytime soon, so keep your eyes peeled just in case."

Only after the pair had proceeded a short distance away did Harry let loose the breath he had been holding and resume following them. And for what was probably the umpteenth time since Dumbledore had returned it back in Harry's first year, he thanked his dad for buying the cloak and passing it on to him.

The rest of the walk passed by without further incident. Eventually, the two men came to a stop in an unremarkable part of the forest, where they proceeded to stand and wait.

Harry took up a position nearby, making sure that he was far enough away that a stray sound was unlikely to give himself away.

He was itching to use 'Observe' on the two men, but the cloak's mysterious property to block spells and abilities also applied to Harry when he was under it. Without dropping the cloak or poking the tip of his wand beyond its protection, there was no way to use the ability. And after the close call from before, Harry did not want to take the risk.

After several minutes of silent waiting, the steady crunch of footsteps heralded the arrival of someone else. The men Harry had followed into the woods tensed and pointed their wands in the direction of the noise as a third person wearing a child's mask stepped into view.

In stark contrast to the fancy wizarding robes worn by the two men Harry had followed, the new person wore a mishmash of apparel cobbled together from the Quidditch teams of multiple countries. It served to conceal both their build and gender, and when they spoke it was in a voice that sounded magically altered. Or so Harry supposed, as the closest thing he could compare it to was like when a victim or a witness spoke on the telly and used a voice synthesizer to protect their anonymity.

"Let's keep things short. I don't much time remaining before my disappearance might arouse suspicion," the new person stated. "Do I have your promise to help change the outcome of the matches according to the information I provided?"

Man number one, Morgan, nodded. "I won't comment on our methods, but I guarantee they'll remain untraceable. It'll be impossible for anyone to connect it to you."

"What happens if your methods fail? Or aren't quite as untraceable as you say?"

"They are as untraceable as we say, so it won't be an issue. But if some problem appears that we cannot account for… well, we've been authorized to pay you a handsome amount for your assistance in that other matter. As was previously agreed."

"How can I trust you to hold true to your word?"

"Because we are all upstanding gentlemen here who have given our words of honour," man number two, Yaxley, sneered. "That, and if we fail to come through with things on our end, a bag of gold for the sum of 50,000 galleons will appear in your usual drop spot the night before your assistance is required."

The third man cocked his head as though he were thinking. He then slowly nodded his head and tossed something to Morgan. "Then I agree. That portkey will take you to the place you requested. It will only activate on the day you requested, and only when two or more people touch it at once. I can also cancel it at any time should you not hold up your end of the bargain. Is this acceptable?"

"It is," both Yaxley and Morgan assented.

The other person nodded their head, turned, and walked back the way he had come.

The meeting done, Yaxley and Morgan split apart and wandered back into the forest in opposite directions. For a moment harry was tempted to follow one of the three but decided against it. It would not do to get greedy for more and get himself discovered.

Ten minutes passed as Harry patiently waited to make sure that none of the men were still nearby. Once Harry felt certain that he was well and truly alone in the woods, he replied to Sirius and Remus' messages. Then he took out his wand, cast the Patronus spell, and instructed the ephemeral stag to lead Remus and Sirius to his location.

He had gathered a lot of good information. Now it was time to consult the adults about it and figure out whether Remus or Sirius had gained any information of their own.

A/N: And we are finally at the World Cup. A place where quests and daggers in the dark lurk in abundance. I took some creative license with portkey travel and Harry's invisibility cloak and modified them from their Canon iterations.

This chapter was extensively rewritten after I removed the old chapters 23 and 24. A lot of information was added, some scenes were changed (now it's Remus who meets Skeeter instead of Sirius), and a few subplots got modified out of necessity. I think it is leagues better than what I had written before, though, so I will be keeping it here for good.

Until Next Time,

~Elsil