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Harry Potter And The Game of Death
Level 1
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Triumph
With a pained grunt, Harry sped after Krum, Firebolt straining under his body as he raced for the Snitch.
But Krum wasn't hailed as the best Seeker in the game just because the photographers liked the way he looked.
When Harry finally caught up and tried to pull alongside him, the older boy boxed him out; when he tried to go over him in a broom stream fuelled pop-up, he almost got backhand to the face; and when he tried to go from below, Krum lashed out with swift kicks and punches which rattled Harry's teeth whenever they connected.
In short, Krum was every bit as dogged and determined in the final phase of the game as Ron had said. The only saving grace was that this game's Snitch was boxing and weaving like a bug gone mad, and Krum was having a devil of a time trying to catch the thing.
They sped around the pitch again and again, fighting back and forth as the wind roared past their ears. And though he failed time and time again, Harry kept trying to find some way to turn the situation around.
As luck would have it, the moment it happened came when they reached the Bulgarian goalposts.
In an effort to help Krum, one of the Bulgarian Beaters sent a Bludger careening towards Harry's head. But the man misjudged the hit; rather than smacking into Harry and knocking him out of the pursuit, the Bludger went shooting out at Krum's shoulder, forcing the older boy to swerve low and to one side ever so slightly.
That miniscule change was all Harry needed.
With a feral grin on his lips, he inserted his small body into the tiny gap it had opened and squeezed ahead of his fellow Seeker. A few well-placed kicks as he passed knocked Krum further of course, allowing Harry to switch his concentration entirely to catching the Snitch.
He reached his hand forward.
The Snitch darted to the left.
Harry matched its movement.
The Snitch slipped down and to the side.
With icy determination, Harry matched its movements again.
But it was feint. And when the Snitch darted up and to the right, his hand was there waiting for it.
Only for Krum to smack his arm from below, knocking it up and away from the Snitch.
Thwarted, Harry pulled his arm back and glared at the older boy. All he got in return, though, was empty air as Krum focused his attention on their shared target.
XxX
Meanwhile, from his spot on the side-lines embedded within the team's security group, Sirius growled as he looked into a small mirror. "This'd better be good, 'Dromeda. Harry's match is getting seriously intense."
The face of his lovely cousin tightened in exasperation as she rolled her eyes. "Quite. The boy is a natural in the air, and it has been a lovely competition from what little I've caught. But in the hopes that you haven't forgotten our primary reason for being here today, I thought I would contact you."
All traces of his previous annoyance vanished as Sirius lowered his voice. "What's up? Did you and Dedalus find something?"
"We have. And if my memory isn't failing me, I've come across something similar to it once before." Andromeda paused as what looked like long-buried pain flashed inside her gorgeous eyes. "Back in your mother's private workshop at Grimmauld Place."
Sirius sucked in a deep breath of air. Ah. No wonder Andromeda looked pained.
If something connected to Sirius' deranged mother, even if it were tenuous at best, was present here at the World Cup… then nothing good could possibly come of it.
"Got it, 'Dromeda," Sirius said grimly. He began to move towards the English team's tunnel and away from the side-lines. "Tell me your location and I'll be right there."
"Very well. But best you hurry, Sirius. This can only be a smaller piece of a much bigger puzzle. And I'm getting the feeling that we're almost out of time to stop it from being completed."
XxX
Back in the air, the Snitch was mere centimetres ahead of both Seekers' outstretched hands.
Gritting his teeth, Harry changed his angle and slammed his shoulder into Krum's body. The speed at which they were flying gave the blow enough force to knock the larger boy back, causing Krum to let loose a string of profanities in some other language. And though it slowed Harry down as well and gave the Snitch a tiny lead, the manoeuvre kept him in the lead and boxed Krum out.
Harry dodged Krum's attempt to ram him in return and pushed his broom ahead. He gradually gained on the Snitch and soon reached out a hand to grab it.
But a hit from his opponent landed on his right thigh, fingers digging deep into the flesh right where there was a gap in the armoured pads.
Pain exploded throughout his leg, causing Harry to scream in pain as his broom began to wobble. Desperate to end it, he tightened his hand into a fist and brought it down, smashing Krum's hooked fingers against the padding and drawing a yell of pain from the older boy.
"Oh, what a battle this has been, folks! Neck and neck, the two Seekers seem set to fight it out until the bitter end!" Bagman announced grandly. "But only one of these two incredible fliers can catch the Snitch to win the game and go down in history as a winner! Who. Will. It. Be?"
Swearing as he watched Krum regain the lead, Harry felt a desire to punch Bagman in the face flash across his brain. Seriously? That's what the man said after everything that had happened? His commentary was severely lacking when compared to Lee Jordan's.
But annoying and boring as it was, the man was right. And as Harry desperately tried, and failed, to ram Krum for a second time, the older boy managed to reach out and snag the golden object of their pursuit.
"He's done it! Krum's done it! HE'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH!" Bagman roared. "And with the game at 240-160 in England's favour, holding it would seal the game for Bulgaria!"
XxX
Ding!
You Have Received a Messages from One of Your Party Members
Select to Read
Hermione scowled at the message from the Game of Death. Harry's battle with Krum was reaching the climax and it was not looking good for the boy she adored.
Whomever sent the message had better have a darn good reason for doing so.
Ding!
Andromeda may have found something suspicious. She asked me to confirm it, so I've left my post.
Hermione, keep an eye on Harry while I'm gone. And Remus, don't worry. I'll let you know if it's something which requires your assistance. Keep to your post for now.
"Oh, he did not just leave me here on my own with zero notice!" Hermione hissed after she finished reading Sirius' message.
Furious, she grabbed her Omnioculars and looked towards where Sirius had stood during the match.
The security personnel for the English team, all of whom seemed to be enthralled by the match, were still there. As were the coaches, the team medi-witch, and various Ministry officials.
But there was no sign of Sirius. The man had already left.
Leaving Hermione as the one person close to the Quidditch Pitch in a position to help Harry should things go terribly wrong.
A bad feeling began to grow in her gut. One that only worsened as she thought of the notebook containing her theories on what had happened in the past to other people in Harry's special situation, and how often terrible things seemed to happen at important events.
XxX
In Amateur level Quidditch, such as it is played at schools like Hogwarts, a game always ended as soon as the Snitch was caught. The magic which animated the device would cease to function, causing it to lie dead within the Seeker's hand.
But Professional Quidditch, as Harry had learned the hard way earlier that summer, was different. If they were fast, a rival player could knock the Snitch out of the Seeker's hands and extend the game.
Or, if they were both nimble and lucky, snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.
Focusing every fibre of his being on what would come next, Harry watched Krum begin to bring the Snitch in to his body. Harry stretched out and brought his left hand down in a chopping motion.
The blow landed on Krum's wrist, right between the area where his arm guard met his gloves. And as the older boy's hand opened in reflexive pain, Harry locked onto the fluttering form of the Golden Snitch and snatched it away.
Ten seconds later and the game was over.
XxX
Up in the British Minister for Magic's Skybox, the mood was euphoric. Witches and wizards, who had let out screams and yells of dismay upon seeing Krum grab the Snitch, were screaming and yelling for joy at seeing Harry's miraculous turnaround.
"HE DID IT! HARRY DID IT!" Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs. "YES! DID YOU SEE IT? DID YOU? DID YOU?"
"Gah! I did, I did! Just stop squeezing me already, Gin. It hurts!"
"Quiet! This is the best day ever!" Ginny yelled as her brother, one of the twins, tried to escape her grasp. Giggling like a madwoman, she latched onto him even harder and began to jump. "I can't wait to see Harry after the game!"
Ginny's earlier resolve to snog him blind had only grown stronger. And nothing was going to stand in her way.
Still, even as Ginny let herself enjoy the moment, she turned her head to look at a distant part of the room. Be it from a sense of morbid curiosity or something else, she wanted to see the look on Draco and Lucius Malfoy's faces as they watched their nemesis win international fame and glory in front of their eyes.
Draco was rather glum looking, as though his heart had been ripped out. While the pale boy's father… was not.
The older Malfoy was smiling and clapping his hands in apparent happiness along with the rest of the crowd. But the look of unbridled fury deep inside his eyes told an entirely different story. One that Ginny was all too familiar with, as the last time she'd seen it was the day Lucius had slipped the Diary into her cauldron.
XxX
On his way to Andromeda, Sirius took a side passage that led through the stadium's heart to shorten the journey. His cousin's message had given him a bad feeling and he wanted to get there as quickly as possible.
Shortly after taking a right at a cross junction, though, Sirius ran across something… strange.
Close to the control room where Remus and Hestia were stationed, two men seemed to be loitering in a deserted hallway. Wearing nondescript clothing and openly holding security badges, they looked like any other pair of Ministry wizards Sirius had seen throughout the day.
Yet there was something about them which felt… off.
Something which caused his instincts, forged over a lifetime of exposure to Dark magicians from the time of his birth to his imprisonment in Azkaban, to flare in warning.
Hiding himself in a nearby alcove, Sirius brought up the Game of Death's 'Party' feature. He used it to message Remus that he had found a pair of suspicious wizards, and that the werewolf should bring Hestia to investigate.
Once sent, it only took a few seconds before Sirius received a reply.
Ding!
You Have Received a Messages from One of Your Party Members
Select to Read
Sirius opened it immediately.
Ding!
On our way. Don't engage them until we arrive. Remember, Hestia doesn't know we can communicate without the mirrors.
"Yeah, yeah, you damn worrywart," Sirius murmured to himself. He sometimes lost track of who knew what when it came to the damnable Game of Death but being reminded of that never failed to bug him. "Well, good luck creating a believable excuse, old buddy. I believe in you."
Sirius then waited as patiently as he could for the two to arrive. As he did, he strained his ears to see if he could catch anything the men said to one another. But that was a dead end. For aside from a cough or two and the impatient shuffling of feet, neither man made so much as a peep. Which, in turn, caused Sirius to quickly grow bored of waiting. Patience never had been one of his strong suits.
But just when he was contemplating whether he should take matters into his own hands, he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the opposite direction.
Readying himself in case it was his long-time friend, Sirius leaned against the corner of the alcove, wand drawn but pointed at the floor.
"Hullo there, misters, what're the two of you doing here?" A flirtatious female voice asked. "Mind if I join?"
It was Hestia.
Hearing the well-endowed woman's voice made Sirius smile. Baiting the trap with a honeypot had been a smart decision on Remus' part.
"The game's just ended, y'know, and I'm looking to have a bit o' fun." Hestia continued coquettishly as her steps carried her closer to where the two men stood. A slight slur to her voice and an unsteadiness to her footsteps gave the illusion of her being some drunken strumpet out for a walk. "Either of you studs interested in joining me?"
"Sorry, miss, but we're busy," one of the men answered in a rough tone of voice. "Go find someone else."
"Aw. But the two of you 're just my type," Hestia replied coyly. The woman was laying it on thick. "C'mon, I promise you'll get a night neither of you'd ever forget."
"Beat it, slag. I said we're not interested in a mixed blood like you. Now move on before I call for security to escort you out of here."
Oho. Mixed blood, eh? Sirius smiled wolfishly at that verbal slip. After all, how would two ordinary wizards know the blood status of someone they had just met? And even if they did, why would they even care about it?
The answer to both questions was the same: neither was something that any 'ordinary' wizard was likely to know or say. Which meant that these two were probably Yaxley and Morgan… and that Sirius' incredible instincts had just saved the day.
Ha! Take that, Game of Death.
While Sirius mentally congratulated himself over having bested the stupid thing, he heard another set of footsteps begin to sound out in the corridor. Figuring that they belonged to Remus and that it was time to spring the trap, Sirius left his alcove and began to make his way over as well.
As he approached, one of the men saw him. The stranger's eyes flickered between Sirius and Hestia. He frowned and started to raise his wand.
Sirius raised his own wand first and fired a stunner. "Hit 'em!"
Without missing a beat, Hestia dropped to a knee and fired a stunner of her own.
Both spells were batted aside as the two men reacted to the shots. Then a scintillating wave of cobalt blue then shot at Hestia while a bolt of argent light lanced towards Sirius.
Cursing, Sirius summoned a shield to absorb the spell. If that silver light was what he thought it was, then trying to bat it aside could well end in his death. Or worse, rebound and hit one of his friends.
Dammit! With the two men trapped in the corridor between him and the others, Sirius and the others needed to watch their spells while the two disguised Death Eaters did not.
Worse, the Death Eaters knew it and were taking advantage of it. One of the men began firing a barrage of spells in Remus and Hestia's direction. While the other walked towards Sirius, wand pointed in his direction and spitting out flash after flash of light.
Instead of holding his ground and playing defensive, though, Sirius began to move towards the other man as well. The duelling skills he had been regaining and polishing over the summer rose to the fore as he batted away spell after spell while firing off shots of his own.
An orange curse which would have dissolved Sirius' internal organs was absorbed by a shield he conjured to block it. While a white hex that would have blinded him and filled his ears with deafening noise had it hit was batted harmlessly into a wall.
Biting his lips, Sirius fired three spells which would disorient or stun an opponent.
The shots were absorbed into a green coloured shield one of the two men summoned, while a missed hex from Remus forced Sirius to duck his head. Then a violet-coloured hex which would cause a person's skin to split open and haemorrhage blood came arcing right at his face.
Whipping his wand around, Sirius timed it to bat the spell away and send it right back at his opponent.
The man ducked, allowing the spell to fly over his head.
But just as Sirius had planned, the other one was not so lucky.
The spell hit the man solidly in the back. He let out a garbled scream, hands clawing at his body while he collapsed to the floor. Blood began to spurt out in all directions as the hex did its horrifying work faster than it took to blink.
A thrill of victory coursed through Sirius at the sight. One bad guy down, one to go, and all three of the good guys were still uninjured. This would be a piece of cake!
But he really should have known better to tempt Fate in such a way.
The moment the remaining Death Eater realized he was on his own, the man immediately conjured a fiery wall between himself and his fallen compatriot. It sealed off Remus and Hestia, temporarily blocking their pursuit.
Next, the man reached into his pocket and drew something out. Something that caused the hairs on the back of Sirius' neck to stand on end.
It was unmistakeably a powerful artefact of Dark magic. And when he saw the man toss the thing in his direction, bring his wand around, and fire an explosive spell, Sirius knew it was not going to end well for him.
The resulting magical detonation ripped through the enclosed hallway. The force of it tore through the quick Protego Sirius managed to get out and flung him into one of the nearby walls.
Then blackness took him.
XxX
Harry felt as if he was on cloud nine the instant the Snitch stopped moving. A feeling of accomplishment like that of winning the House Cup, only magnified by a thousand, welled up inside his chest as he thrust the hand clasping the Snitch high into the air.
The stadium burst into a riot of sound as the crowd lost its collective mind.
Giant team banners burst into being; Bagman was screaming himself hoarse as he seemingly sobbed in joy; and the magical creations which had been present upon Harry's entrance before the match came back and soared high in the sky in celebration of their victory. All while streams of shapeshifting bits of confetti drifted through the sky, covering the pitch and crowd alike in piles of coloured paper.
Ding!
Quest Notification
I, Seeker
Progress:
Complete
You Have Just Won the World Cup! Congratulations!
Quest Rewards:
50,000 Galleons (To be Deposited in Your Gringotts Account at a Future Date by the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Magical Cooperation), a Giant Boost to Your International Fame (You are now 'Well Known' Throughout the Entire Magical World), and a 'Hint' for the 'Attack on the World Cup' Quest (Select 'Hint' to View the Information in a Separate Screen)
Harry felt a feeling of euphoria rise in his chest as he threw his other arm into the air in victory. But before he let himself enjoy the moment fully, one action remained to be done.
Well, several actions, actually. But only one which absolutely needed to be done before the moment was over.
Moving quickly, Harry flew over to where the Bulgarian team had gathered. Most of the members had looks of abject loss. Two of them had their arms around each other as they cried, while the team captain sat on the pitch with a wilted look of defeat on his face. While Krum, ever stoic, just sat on his broom, staring blankly at the hand which had briefly held the Snitch.
There was nothing Harry could do to cheer them up. His team had won the match. Their team had lost. That was the way Quidditch worked.
But Harry could, and would, show his respect for a worthy opponent.
When he was in range, Harry put a hand on Krum's shoulder and turned the older boy around. "Krum," he began, yelling to be heard over the noise, "I know it might sound cheap since I just won. But I wanted you to know that you're the most amazing flyer I've ever faced. And someday, win or lose, I'd consider it an honour, and a pleasure, to compete with you again."
At Harry's words, Krum's stoic look cracked a little. The older boy ran a hand over his shaven head and gave a weary nod. "I too had much fun in our duel, Harry Potter. And though I vish I had von and brought victory to my team… it vas a true pleasure flying against you." A small smile graced his features as a knowing look entered his eyes. "I am sure that ve vill compete again sooner than you think."
Unsure of what the older boy was hinting at, Harry put it aside for the time being and held out his hand. He grinned as Krum took it. "Looking forward to it, mate. And in the meantime, fair skies and safe weather to you!"
"The same to you. Now go. Your celebration awaits."
XxX
"Alright, my daughter. It is time for us to leave." Appolline Delacour stood from her seat and made her way to the door of their suite. "The storm will soon be upon us and we must join with our sisters before it breaks."
"Oui, Maman," Fleur replied, just loud enough to be heard. She followed the older out the door of their suite, where a group of their sisters stood waiting.
But as the woman began to bark orders and move down the hallway, Fleur let herself lag further and further behind. And when the group went into a Y junction… she took the opposite corridor and ran.
Before long, the voices of her mother and the others were gone.
Appolline might call her eldest daughter a fool for what she was about to do. And rightfully so. It was a foolhardy, goose-brained, stitched together excuse of a plan Fleur had created. One relying on hope and facts in equal measure, to the point where even she doubted that it had much chance of success.
But it had to be done. For if her actions resulted in the lives of even one more person being saved from the approaching storm, then Fleur knew it would be worth it.
XxX
Ding!
Not wanting to overstay his welcome, Harry nodded and turned away as he surreptitiously closed the latest notification from the Game of Death. He only paused for a moment on his way back to his teammates when the silver flash of a Patronus ran past him on its way to the Bulgarian team. But since it had nothing to do with him, Harry put it out of his head and kept on his way.
He was mobbed the moment he came into arm reach.
"You barmy little twit!" Bronwen roared happily into his ear right as shook him bodily. "Did you have to let Krum go and touch the Snitch first? I thought we were done for!"
"Ach! Ye of little faith," Alistair crowed boisterously as he repeatedly slapped one of Harry's shoulders. The big man's nose was broken, his chest covered in what was probably his own blood but seemed otherwise be alright. "Ah had confidence in th' laddie even then."
"Don't feed us that happy horseshit, Alistair," Annabelle teased, braided locks plastered to her head from sweat. "I heard you scream when it happened. Nice and high like a little girl's, it was."
"I didnae such thing, lassie! An' don't ye dare impugn mah honour wit your false tales!"
"Then start telling the truth so I don't have to do it for you, you gormless wanker!"
Harry laughed as the group playfully ribbed each other over the various reactions they had given when Krum had nearly ended the game. At that point in time, it seemed that play had come to a near complete stop as the players on both sides watched the drama unfolding in the air.
But before they could do more than celebrate for a minute or two, a Ministry witch seated on a Nimbus-2001 zoomed over.
She pushed her way into the group, forcing them to pay attention to her. "Champions! Please follow me," the woman called out, raising her voice to be heard over the raucous din of the stadium. "We need to get you changed and into your ceremonial outfits before the trophy presentation begins.
"Aw. But I'm fine just the way I am, aren't I?" Malcom replied. He shook his sweaty hair and pointed to his torn and dirty uniform. "A little blood n' sweat is normal in Quidditch."
"Maybe, but the Minister wants everyone to look their best for the photos. Now come, or else we'll have a riot on our hands for delaying things."
Grumbling over the need of politicians to have everything perfect for their precious photo-ops, Harry and the rest of the team manoeuvred their brooms to follow. They trailed the woman back into the team's tunnel, where they were greeted by a veritable horde of wizards and witches who rushed forward to greet them.
Makeshift changing rooms were erected with the use of magic, clothes were shoved into their hands, and Charms were applied to clean their faces of the grime which came from playing the sport.
In the midst of it all, Harry took the time to read the latest hint from the Game of Death.
And nearly choked when he processed its message.
Ding!
Quest Alert Notification
Attack on the World Cup
Progress:
The World Cup Match Has Been Won and Malfoy has Been Defeated, but There is a Second Scheme in the Works.
The Dark Lord Voldemort has been Lurking in the Shadows and Wants his Revenge.
Survive, and Save as Many Lives as you Can to Complete the Quest.
XxX
Andromeda ran a hand over her flowing hair as she looked at one of the many crystal pylons which powered the stadium's spell wards. A team of Ministry wizards were nearby, standing guard as a witch from the Department of Mysteries currently conducted a repair job of some sort on it.
But while the woman was probably an able employee in most things, she was making an absolute mess of the repair job. Andromeda frowned as she watched a green spark bloom into existence as the woman tried, and failed, to bring two torn ends of the ward together for the fifth time.
Dammit, but where the bloody hell was Sirius? Andromeda's cousin should have been at her position by now. If her suspicions were correct, then no one else in their group was better suited to solving the situation before her.
Several minutes later, though, and Andromeda had had enough of watching the Ministry fail. If she continued to flail around as she was and ended up triggering a trap of some sort by mistake, then who knew what might happen?
To that end, Andromeda stepped forward and cleared her throat. "If I can interject, what you're doing won't solve the underlying issue."
"Which is?" The witch replied without looking back. "I've tried using fifty different Charms and three different types of runes to diagnose the issue, but I'm still not certain what it even is. And I don't see how some brainless reporter could figure out something this complex."
Andromeda ignored the woman's insult; she was obviously frustrated by her lack of progress and had most likely not appreciated it when Andromeda had used her press badge to force her way closer in the first place. "I'm not a reporter, my dear. Merely someone who employees them. But even so, I can tell that the issue lies in neither the runes carved into that pylon nor the wards that it powers."
"Then what would it be, pray tell?" The woman replied sourly. "Aside from the Transfigured crystal medium, those are the only components used in its construction, and my scans didn't detect any foreign elements."
"Only because you have yet to try scanning for an Enchantment. Specifically, one that deals with trans-dimensional travel."
The woman's hands stilled in their work. Suddenly tense, she turned to look at Andromeda with suspicious eyes. "An Enchantment? Why would I ever scan for an Enchantment? Aside from Albus Dumbledore, or possibly several other respected Mages, most of whom are Ministry employees, no one in Britain could possibly have cast and hid an Enchantment capable of interfering with these Wards."
"Be that as it may, I know of a way to demonstrate the truth of my words." Andromeda reached into the sleeve of her robe and withdrew her wand. "With your permission, I can cast the proper Charm. Doing so would only take a moment and potentially save a great deal of time and effort on your part."
The woman, an Olivia Spindle if the nameplate on her robe was correct, visibly mulled over Andromeda's words. She eventually waved down one of the other employees who, after a short discussion, spoke into a small communication stone set in a leather band on his wrist.
After a minute spent waiting in silence, the band chimed. He brought it up to his ear, nodded as he listened to something, and eventually gave a thumbs up.
Still tense, Olivia beckoned Andromeda forward. "We've received permission to give your idea a shot. But I must warn that if you're lying, or are found to be connected to the person behind your alleged tampering, then you may be asked to surrender your wand and be escorted into the custody of the Aurors."
Andromeda gave a shrug of her slim shoulders and exchanged terse smile with the nearby Dedalus. She had expected as much. "Understood. Now, everyone, please stand back. The results could be rather… spectacular."
Olivia nodded and gestured for her fellow Ministry employees to comply. When everyone had withdrawn to a minimum distance of eight paces, Andromeda pointed her wand at the pylon and made a swift swirling motion. "Secretum Familiae Occultam Revelare."
The instant her spell, one common to many Pureblood families, took effect, a green flash burned into existence.
When it cleared, a small portal shimmered in the air. A dark stretch of woods not immediately familiar to Andromeda could be seen through it.
Then with an ear-splitting screech, the portal ripped apart. The green flames which had surrounded it latched onto the pylon, turning the crystal device into a fiery pillar.
As she stood there, with Olivia frantically barking orders at the Ministry employees and Dedalus trying his best to help them, Andromeda's thoughts began to race.
Walburga, madwoman though she was, had always made sure to leave a hole in her creations for Black family members to exploit. The spell Andromeda had cast should only have caused an image of the spell to be projected into the air. One which would have shown the truth of her words and left the target fully intact.
But this spell, while having come from Walburga, had been changed.
Such could not have been done by Lucius Malfoy or his thugs. It was much too advanced and far too subtle to be their handiwork. Which meant someone else had done this. Someone who knew the magic created by Andromeda's hideous aunt well enough to build a trap into the spell should someone interact with it without proper authorization.
And that thought, with everything it entailed, caused Andromeda's heart to clench in a way it had not done since before the fall of Britain's last Dark Lord.
XxX
"Buggering piece of shite!" Harry cursed.
Immediately afterward, he wracked his brain for a way to alert Sirius and the others as to what had just happened.
As of this moment, only Harry knew that the danger was far from being over. But with so many people surrounding him, none of whom he had trusted with knowledge of his special abilities, there was no way to use the Game of Death without giving away its existence. And without Sirius, Harry did not have access to one of the magical communication mirrors held by a member of each group.
Even when he was shoved into a conjured changing booth by the forceful hands of someone in a Ministry witch's robe, Harry had no time to himself. The second he had tried to use the relative privacy to compose a message to one of his 'Party' members, a wizard had stuck his head in to ask what was taking Harry so long. And even once he had gotten rid of the wizard and tried to compose the message again, scant seconds had passed before the wizard had jumped into the changing stall and started to help Harry change! After which Harry was shoved out of the stall and into the waiting arms of a witch who began to work on tidying his appearance.
When Harry tried to raise his wand to summon a Patronus to serve as a messenger in an act of desperation, the overly made-up witch had plucked the wooden tool from his hands while glaring at him. "None of that right now, Mr. Potter. We've only a short time to make you presentable… And trust me when I say there's a mountain of work to do on that front."
As the woman set to work on him rather crossly, Harry found himself at a crossroads.
Did he dare to wait and hope a better opportunity to take action would present itself? Or should he try to warn someone nearby in the hopes they would listen to him? Either option had its downsides. But with the metaphorical clock counting down, Harry could almost feel himself running out of time to choose.
The witch, who was in the middle of working on his hair, tsked in annoyance. "What the hell is wrong with your hair, Potter?" Her wand twisted itself about as she tried, and failed, to Charm his hair into submission. "No matter what spell I use, it keeps on sticking out every which way. Do you know of something – anything – that can keep it down?"
"Erm, no, not really," Harry muttered absentmindedly. Hearing about wild hair made him think of Hermione. Whom he really wished was nearby right about now. "Can't you just use a potion or something on it?"
The witch gave a cluck of her tongue before reaching into a bag at her side. "Nothing for it then. I'll just have to go with Sleekeazy's Extra Strength Hair Tonic. It'll be like using concrete to carve a sculpture, but it's the only stuff I have time to use."
As the woman bent over to slather his hair with the thick, foul-smelling liquid, Harry spotted a flash of red in the crowd of people around him. Then the potion dripped into his eyes, forcing Harry to shut them lest it cause some strange side effect. He'd seen far too many things happen in his Potions classes over the years to take any chances, especially when a life-or-death situation was imminent.
When he was finally able to open his eyes, the faces of Ginny, Ron, Fred, and George Weasley peered back at him. The witch working on his hair scarpered off, muttering something about needing more potion for the job.
And for the first time since coming into the tunnel Harry was left alone by the surrounding adults.
"Oi, Harry! Bang-up job you did out there!" One of the twins said excitedly.
"Yeah! We knew you were brilliant at school, mate, but better than Krum? Never!" The other one said. "Wood must be pissing his pants right about now and telling everyone how he recruited you."
Harry was glad that his friends were happy for him, but he barely heard their words. After all, their being here had opened an opportunity for him. "Hey, guys, quiet down for a second. There's something I…"
"Bloody hell, mate!" Ron yelled, cutting off what Harry had been trying to say. Harry's oldest friend, now a good five or six centimetres taller than he had been at the end of the school year, slapped Harry's back hard enough to hurt. "I know what I said and all about not wanting to join in on any of your adventures, but this? This was amazing! Whatever else happens, knowing I'm your friend is the best thing that ever happened to me. And that's the honest to goodness truth, mate."
Harry frowned. He wanted to accept the good words and congratulations of his friends – he really did – but now was not the time! "Thanks, mate. I appreciate it. But please, just hold up and listen. There's… oomf!"
Once again Harry had found what he had been about to say cut off by one of the Weasley siblings. But this time it was in a much different way.
Ginny, her eyes blazing with heat, had grabbed hold of Harry's head, yanked it down, and pressed her lips to his in a searing kiss.
Ding!
Um… What had he been trying to say again? Harry's mind began to flounder as Ginny's lips moulded themselves to his own. It had been about something important. Something which needed to be done. But for the life of him, Harry could no longer remember.
His spluttering brain ground to a complete halt when Ginny slipped her tongue into his mouth. As if he were on autopilot, he matched her move and deepened the kiss, wrapping his tongue around her own and tasting the sweetness of her mouth.
It was different than kissing Cho. Ginny's mouth was smaller. Hotter, too. It tasted like the sweetest of fruits, strangely. But with a spicey undertone that made Harry's blood heat and begin to boil.
Sadly, reality reasserted itself with a dash of cold water once his brain finally restarted.
Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Harry looked at the girl who had nearly blown his mind.
Her face blushing as bright as the sun, Ginny gazed back at him with a shy, hopeful look on her face. While around them, all three of her brothers were looking at the pair with shocked expressions on their faces.
And though it pained him – for reasons which he did not want to delve into, and which were probably included in the Game's most recent notification – Harry pushed Ginny away and cleared his throat. "I, erm, wasn't expecting that. It was nice. And good. Really good, actually. But – but can we please, please talk about it later? I need your help with something really important, and it has to happen now!"
He looked at Ron, whose face had begun to turn the distinct shade of red it did whenever the boy grew angry. "Ron, it's got to do with the secret I told you back in the hospital at Hogwarts. And if it isn't handled quickly, a lot of people could get hurt. Or maybe even die."
For a moment none of the four redheads said anything. Ginny's face fell after it became clear that Harry did not want to talk about the kiss. While Fred and George only began to look even more confused.
But thankfully, Ron got the message. And after taking a deep, calming breath, the lanky redhead nodded. "Okay, Harry. How can we help?"
XxX
When Sirius awoke, it was to find Remus standing over him. "Don't move yet, old friend," the werewolf said in a gentle tone. Or at least, what was probably a gentle tone. It sounded like thunder in Sirius' ears and made him wince in pain. "You broke a rib when you hit the wall; your head took a bad blow as well. And there may be worse I haven't yet found."
"Ah, gods and goddesses above," Sirius muttered as he held a hand to his head. Remus was a dab hand at emergency aid, but a qualified Healer would have been better. Much better. "It feels like Hagrid's in my skull and dancing a jig."
"Makes sense. Having an artefact of Dark magic explode within arm's distance will do that to a fella."
Oh. Yeah. That would explain the massive headache that was threating to split open Sirius' skull. It sure felt like the ones from his youth when one of his parents or older family members would hex him to 'toughen him up'.
Repressing those events in his head helped Sirius get a handle on the physical pain. Enough so that he was able to pull himself upright with some assistance from his oldest living friend.
"What's the situation?" Sirius asked as he gingerly touched his noggin. "Last I remember, a rebound hit one of the two sods before the other tossed that thing at me and blew it up."
"Well, the bad news is the guy who tossed the artefact at you got away. The wall he conjured was able to hold Hestia and I off just long enough for him to get most of the way down the corridor, and we chose to prioritize treating you and his companion over chasing him down."
Remus held his wand over Sirius to perform a diagnostic and winced at what it displayed. "You're mostly patched together, but I'd recommend seeing Andromeda or a Healer before long. I was able to purge the remaining Dark magic in your body and patch your rib and skull, but you may have internal injuries that are beyond my abilities to fix."
He placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder when Sirius tried to walk away to test his legs. Which he quickly appreciated. Since the moment Sirius put one foot forward, a spinning sense of vertigo hit him with the force of a Muggle automobile going full speed down the highway.
"Gah!" He gasped as he leaned into Remus. "You weren't kidding when you told me to stay still, were you?"
Remus glared at him. "No. I was not." The werewolf helped Sirius sit back down and propped him up against a nearby wall. "Now, as for the good news, it's that we're all alive. And that not only did we stop whatever it was they were planning on doing, but we also managed to take one of them out."
The werewolf gestured to his right. When Sirius looked, he saw the body of the wizard who had been hit by the rebound. The man's corpse was surrounded by a pool of blood and looked like some living thing had tried to rip its way out of his skin.
Sirius felt no sadness at seeing the grisly display. "I'm glad to see you weren't able to save his life. It's what they get for using Curses like that," he muttered. The horrors he had seen in the last war had stripped him of any sympathy for Death Eaters and their ilk. "Any idea who it was?"
"None. Hestia searched the body and found several empty vials; from the residue, we were able to tell that they once contained Polyjuice."
"Which means we'll probably have to wait a bit before the body reverts to its normal form. Great." Heaving a sigh, Sirius shifted his position to try and get more comfortable. "Anything else going on?"
"Andromeda and Dedalus are still holding position last I checked, but it's been some time since I could get in touch with her. Meanwhile, Hestia's gone off to fetch some Aurors and should be back soon, Hermione's still safe in the skybox… oh. And Harry managed to catch the Snitch."
Sirius let out a whoop of joy at the news. After which he clutched a hand to his head when another wave of pain and vertigo hit. "Ooh… not doing that again anytime soon. But ha! I knew the kid could do it!"
Sure, Krum had been the more experienced flyer. And sure, the older boy had suckered Harry into doing what he wanted for much of the match; that whole bout of insane flying between them had to have been the other boy's idea from the start.
But Harry always had a way of pulling things out when it really mattered. The boy was clutch like that. A fact which even the infernal Game of Death recognized with the traits it had assigned to him.
Ding!
You Have Received a Messages from One of Your Party Members
Select to Read
"Think of the devil and they shall appear," Sirius grumbled. Looking over at Remus, he saw that the other man was staring at a seemingly empty patch of air. "You too?"
"Yes."
"Great. Well, nothing for it but to read the message and see what's up."
Without further ado, Sirius opened the message and began to read.
Ding!
Hey everyone. This is Ron. Harry roped me in to help.
The attack you just stopped was only part of the problem. You-Know-Who's been working on a plan of his own and is about to spring it.
The Game says that you need to find more allies. And that the new goal is to survive and save lives.
Harry's on his way to the Ceremony on the pitch and I'm heading up to Hermione's box with my siblings. He asks that you get someone to his area a.s.a.p.
Sirius cursed up a storm after reading Ron's message. Then, pain be damned, he stood up and shifted into his canine form. Once the transformation was complete, he started to run, his four legs moving his body faster than any human could move.
XxX
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the presentation of the Quidditch World Cup to the victorious team," Ludo called out, the Sonorous Charm doing its magic and projecting his voice to every corner of the stadium. "Please remain quiet and in your seats as the music plays, and hold your applause until Britain's Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, appears."
Sombre, stately music typical of championship ceremonies around the world began to play the moment Ludo finished speaking. Knowing that to be his cue, Ludo placed his wand to his neck and cast the countercharm to Sonorous. After which he grabbed a nearby glass of water and downed the entire thing.
Once that was done, Ludo set the glass down and turned to his assistant. "Morgana's breath, but doing this job makes me parched." Aiming his wand at the empty glass, he cast Aguamenti on it. Once re-filled, he picked it up and drank deeply. "Dry throat aside, this wasn't a bad outcome at all! Eh, Li?"
"Erm, yes, sir." The Asian man nodded his head rather stiffly at Ludo's comment. "It's quite good indeed."
"C'mon! You can do better than that can't you? Don't be such a stick in the mud, you old sourpuss!" Ludo said with a laugh.
He reached out to give the man a hearty slap on the back. After all, it was time to celebrate! Not grumble and moan. "It's not like you aren't getting anything out of this. After all, your own daughter'll be on the field during the presentation and next to Harry's side if old Barty took my advice on the matter. Though I imagine she'll have a little competition from Arthur's daughter if she wants to kiss the hero of the hour!"
"Yes, sir. It's just as you say, sir," Li said just as stiffly as before. The man took a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe his sweaty brow. "I'm sure my daughter will do our family proud."
Hearing his assistant be so stiff and uncooperative caused Ludo to frown. Ugh! The idiot was worse than a wet blanket, and it was beginning to affect even Ludo's good cheer.
Looking around, he saw a few other people celebrating nearby and moved to join them. His job was over for the next few minutes, which meant he could get started on enjoying the post-game celebrations. So Ludo left his depressing assistant standing at the window, still wiping sweat from his furrowed brow as he stared at the field below.
XxX
"Wizards and witches from around the globe, I ask that you please stand to greet this year's winners of the World Cup. The English National Squad!"
Harry flinched as he strode into the stadium. Minister Fudge's voice was grating enough when every piece of hair on Harry's body was standing up on high alert. But it was the roar of noise which nearly triggered his fight or flight reaction.
Thanks to the Game's warnings, Harry held his wand in one hand as they walked. While moving, he used it to cast 'Observe' on everyone and everything he could see.
Nothing suspicious turned up. But that only worsened the dread Harry was feeling.
Confetti filled the air, while various bangs and blasts of light rang out as the assembled witches and wizards celebrated. Around him, the rest of the team was waving at the crowd. Looks of innocent joy were pasted across their expressions and more than one of them tried to get Harry to lighten up. He shrugged their goodwill off and kept his eyes roving.
As Harry made his way to where a raised platform had been hastily assembled in the centre of the pitch, he made sure to pay extra attention to everyone who stood on it.
He recognized Minister Fudge. The short, portly man was puffed up like a popinjay, his ruddy face flushed with excitement. On one side of him stood a red-cheeked woman in a ridiculously large, feathered hat who had to be his wife. While on Fudge's other side was Bartemius Crouch, the man who had threatened Harry and the others after the incident which saw Dora and Remus injured. Crouch held in his hands a giant metal… thing… studded with ruby's, sapphires, and other precious gems; judging by how his teammates hollered upon seeing it, the thing could only be the champion's cup.
Surrounding them were various other official looking people, including Lucius and Draco Malfoy. The two blond prats had their faces schooled in polite expressions of celebration. But whenever either one looked in his direction, Harry saw their eyes turn into pools of venom as deadly as a Basilisk's.
If he had not already foiled Malfoy's plot, Harry might have suspected the two of having something else in the works to kill him. But no, this was just the usual amount of acrimony from them, plus a little extra. So Harry shoved the pair of them from his mind and kept searching.
Beyond the father and son duo, there were a few other faces Harry vaguely recognized as belonging to Aurors and lower-level Ministry officials he had seen throughout the tournament. They were mostly clustered around the podium's edges, leaving a large space open next to the Minister's group which had to be reserved for the Quidditch team.
As Harry followed behind Genevieve and Brian and placed a foot on the steps leading up to the platform, Harry felt a hand reach out to grab his sleeve. When he looked to see who it was, he saw Cho's pretty face staring back at him.
"Harry! You did it! You won the cup!" She exclaimed happily. She threw her arms around his neck and drew herself close. "Now, let me show you just how much I appreciate it!"
Harry opened his mouth to respond, a crooked grin making its way to his face despite the tension he felt. Then, for the second time in less than five minutes, a pretty girl cut off what he had been about to say by kissing him.
Wolf whistles rang out from the people surrounding them. Alistair's booming laugh was particularly noisy as the man ribbed Anabelle for missing her chance to steal Harry's lips in front of the crowd.
But strangely, Harry did not feel the same excitement as he had the previous times he had kissed the girl of his dreams. There was a bad taste to it which tickled the back of his mind and ruined the whole experience.
The beautiful girl gave Harry's back a hard squeeze before cutting off the kiss and giving him a happy smile. "Now go up and claim your trophy! There's more where that came from when we get to the afterparty."
Stumbling a little from the unexpected encounter, Harry nodded and continued up the steps. He did his best to put the girl from his mind, but with Cho sticking to his side like glue as he walked, Harry felt his stress jump even higher. If whatever terrible thing was coming happened now, then the dark-haired girl might in be danger too. And Harry had no idea if he could protect her.
Once everyone on the English squad had climbed the platform and had their hands shaken by the various dignitaries, Minister Fudge stepped forward. The man's face glowed with pride and excitement as he cast Sonorous on himself and addressed the crowd. "Witches and wizards of the world, and most especially my constituents of Magical Britain, as Minister for Magic of this great nation it is my absolute pleasure to present the Quidditch World Cup to our home team!"
The crowd burst in applause yet again. As they did, Bartemius Crouch moved forward, readying himself to pass the trophy to the Minister as part of the presentation ceremony.
But just as the shining award neared Fudge's back, Harry felt something change in the air. As it did, a tingling feeling swept across the back of his neck.
His eyes swivelled across the crowd, hunting for the source of his unease.
It did not take long to locate.
For striding towards the podium, having appeared from thin air on an empty patch of grass, were two men dressed in black robes and wearing silver.
A/N: Harry wins the World Cup! And for those out there who have been reading this story since the early days, Harry's victory over Krum was planned and foreshadowed by the loss to Ginny way back in the earlier chapters. Which is why I never changed it, despite many a scathing review over it.
From this point on, the story will take a decidedly darker turn as I originally hinted in the first chapters of this story. I don't think it quite hits the 'M' rating… but if you think it does, let me know and I will change it asap.
The formatting is a little different this chapter because this website's doc uploader has been a PoS lately, rejecting my documents no matter how I try to upload them and refusing to let me edit them in the browser. Bah!
Stay Safe and Healthy!
~Elsil