"Talking/Dialogue"
"Special Dialogue"
"Special Dialogue"
Thoughts/Spells
'Quotes'
Writing/Text
Regaining Control
Salazar's Hidden Chamber, Hogwarts
Sunday
November 1st, 1994
Harry let his body sink into the warm and inviting water of the porcelain bathtub, feeling the sweltering yet soothing heat wash over him. As he leaned back, he closed his eyes and let out a long and contented sigh, feeling the phantom aches and pains of days that had not yet come to pass slowly melting away. The tension in his muscles eased, and he felt his mind and body relax completely.
A near-total silence descended upon the bathroom, where only the faint sounds of his breathing existed, and he savored the minutes of serenity that had been so hard to come by in recent years.
Unfortunately, the moment could not last forever.
Harry began to reflect on what he had accomplished in his quest to defeat Voldemort and how much more he still had left to do.
At least this time, I know what I'm looking for. Harry thought to himself, raising a hand in front of him as he began listing each of the Horcruxes.
That left the locket, the cup, the ring, and the snake.
Out of the remaining soul anchors, Slytherin's Locket was the easiest one to obtain. It was safely hidden inside Grimmauld Place, and now it was simply a matter of convincing Sirius to return to his ancestral home to key him into the wards.
Something easier said than done, as his godfather utterly detested that place.
Of course, he could always just tell him what he was looking for and why, but that would only invite questions about how he came across that type of magic. No, he would have to find another strong enough reason to be let inside the Black Family home.
Maybe if I say it's for the tournament. Harry wondered. It might not work, but it's worth at least asking.
His mind shifted to the other three and the challenges of retrieving each one.
Nagini would no doubt be lurking beside the diminutive form of the Dark lord, protecting him from harm alongside Wormtail. Getting anywhere near them would be tough, and that was without considering any potential means they might use to escape or any protections they might have placed around the Riddle Manor.
Harry knew with absolute certainty that protections were in use at the Gaunt Family shack, where the ring was currently hidden. They were also deadly, as he recalled the curse that befallen the Headmaster after the elder wizard had been compelled to wear the ring.
It still might be worth checking the place out.
That left Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, which was currently safely secured inside a vault beneath Gringotts. While his Cloak of Invisibility could get him past all the bank's protections, he would still have to figure out a way to open the vault.
How he would manage that one was anyone's guess, as he wasn't eager to trust another goblin—not after what happened Griphook's betrayal.
Leaving the matter for another time, Harry rose from the warm, soothing water of the bathtub. Droplets of water dripped from his skin as he stepped onto the cool tiles beneath his feet.
Walking leisurely, he approached a simple standing mirror in the corner of the bathroom, taking in his reflection and the details of his appearance.
A small frown grew on his face as he saw the somewhat scrawny body reflected at him. There were small signs that he was beginning to mature, but it wasn't near the physique he had developed as he approached adulthood—something that would have to be remedied soon.
The hair, as well…I should probably cut it short again. Harry thought to himself as he leaned toward the mirror, his hands drifting toward the long locks of his hair. He pulled it back, angling his head toward the side with a considering look. Or maybe a ponytail?
Harry shook his head as he began to dress himself before returning to the bedroom, immediately being assaulted by a pair of rather animated voices.
"I find it quite extraordinary, really," Salazar said. "I had been so disappointed to find out it had been discontinued and had lost all hope it would be revived. I'm delighted to find out it wasn't the case."
"It was stopped for a reason, Salazar," Helena said sternly.
"Not a good enough reason, in my opinion."
"Having the three judges severely injured in the first task isn't a good enough reason?"
"An unfortunate incident, but not nearly enough to completely abolish the tournament."
"And the high death toll of the champions? Is that a good enough reason?"
"No."
"Unbelievable."
Salazar smirked at the huff of frustration that left the young woman's mouth before looking toward Harry once he caught sight of him.
"I'm assuming Helena has told you about my entry into the Triwizard Tournament?" Harry asked as he came to stand before the portrait.
"She has," Salazar responded. "And I was quite pleased to find that out. It is a testament to your strength and skills as a wizard that the goblet has found you worthy of being a champion. Take pride in your selection."
Harry nodded absentmindedly before a scoff from the woman beside him drew his attention.
"I take it you don't share his sentiments?"
"No, I do not," she huffed, crossing her arms. "It is a foolish competition that does nothing but lead wizards and witches to an early grave—a public execution masquerading as entertainment."
"The potential for death is not unknown, and yet, that does not deter people from placing their name into the Goblet of Fire. It is a chance of glory, a chance to test their magical prowess," Salazar said before looking at Helena severely when she made to voice her displeasure again. "And now, Harry finds himself with the same opportunity to test himself. Great wizards are forged through fire, and if he has any ambition to grow as a wizard, any desire to achieve his full potential, then he must face adversity."
Salazar stared at the woman firmly, willing her to understand his words before gazing at the young man in question.
"Last night, we agreed upon the idea of traveling to countries with an inclination toward the Dark Arts. Such a journey does not come without great risk to your life."
"I know it will," Harry responded calmly, more than familiar with the idea of his life being in danger. He remembered the multitude of times he had found himself facing the possibility of death at Hogwarts. Every year, there seemed to be at least one occasion where his life was in danger.
The troll, a possessed Quirrell, acromantula, a basilisk, dementors, a werewolf, a dragon, merpeople, the resurrected dark lord, dementors again, dark wizards, and the dark lord again. Harry listed off in his head before sighing internally. I'm probably forgetting a few things as well, but that's more life-threatening situation than most people face in their lifetime…and I'll be in another life-or-death scenario in less than a month's time.
"Well, it still doesn't change the fact that you've taken an unnecessary risk by entering the tournament," Helena said as she looked at him, raising an eyebrow when he shrugged.
"It wasn't like I wanted to participate."
"Of course, because the best way to do that is by slipping your name into the goblet," she said dryly.
"I didn't."
Helena's eyes narrowed in confusion as she looked at him, an expression shared by the founder.
"What?"
"I didn't put my name in the goblet. Somebody else did, and it was done without my knowledge or permission."
"You were entered against your will?" Salazar asked, getting a nod of confirmation from the younger man.
"And the only reasonable explanation as to why somebody would do that is if they wished something to happen to me," Harry told them. Of course, he knew who that 'somebody' was. However, since he was reluctant to do anything about it at the moment, he decided to keep that information to himself.
"And there are many who would wish for harm to befall you," Salazar said, making Harry look at the founder in curiosity, as last night the founder hadn't given any indication of knowing any of the more recent events. Salazar quickly noticed the expression on his face and explained. "While you were asleep, Helena gave me a brief overview of the most recent war and your role in ending it."
Harry nodded in understanding.
"So, there is someone out there trying to get you killed," Helena whispered grimly before turning her attention towards him. "Have you told any of the professors this?"
Harry shook his head, a small scoff leaving his mouth at the suggestion.
"It would fall on deaf ears," he muttered darkly.
He hadn't forgotten how the suggestion someone was trying to get him killed had been easily dismissed the first time, with both Madame Maxime and Karkaroff being quite vocal about how preposterous they found the idea to be. So, he hadn't bothered raising the question this time around.
"The majority of people there were already angry that I had been selected and had begun to label me as a cheat. My denial would not change that. It would have only led them to believe I was a liar as well, a sentiment that the rest of the castle will soon share. Nothing I could have said would have made them believe me."
A frown grew on Helena's face, but she did not argue against his reasoning before looking down at the floor.
"…Well, I believe you," she mumbled after a moment as she played with the fabric of her gown.
"Thank you," Harry said softly.
That earned him a small smile from the woman before she cleared her throat lightly, oblivious to the curious look the portrait was sending her.
"Your reasons are sound," Salazar said after a moment. "And even if they had taken your words seriously, it would not have changed the fact that you are now magically obligated to participate."
Helena turned to look at Harry. "And you'll be facing three other champions who have three years' worth of knowledge over you. That's a disadvantage not easily ignored."
"If I were any other fourth year, then you'd be right. But I know a lot more magic than I let on."
He figured he was, at the very least, on an equal playing field in terms of how much magic they knew.
I also have more experience in life-or-death situations than any of the other champions. Harry thought before Helena spoke up again.
"And the matter of your magic behaving oddly?" she asked pointedly, recalling his words from last night. Her words made a small, concerned frown appear on his face.
"There's a problem with your magic?" asked Salazar.
"In a way," Harry sighed before taking his wand out of his pocket. "My spells…Whenever I cast them, they fail completely or don't work as they should, like this. Lumos."
As it had done the night before, the wand-lighting charm quickly engulfed the room in a blinding light that he rapidly put out.
"You poured far too much magic into the spell," The founder told him. "Try it again but with less power."
Harry did as was suggested, only to meet the same result.
"I said less power."
"That was less."
"Truly?" Salazar asked, gaining a thoughtful look after Harry nodded in confirmation. He eyed the young man briefly before pointing at the small table between them, the diadem still on its surface. "Try the Freezing Charm on the table."
"Glacius."
Ice quickly expanded across the furniture, showing it had worked as intended. However, Harry was surprised when the ice began to spread rapidly across the floor and the walls, encasing all of the furniture in the room. Only Harry, Helena, the portrait, and the diadem were unaffected by the time the spell stopped.
"There was a…vast amount of magic poured into that spell," Helena muttered.
"An absurd amount…Don't bother. The room will fix itself," Salazar said, adding the last part once he noticed Harry raise his wand. He looked around at the frost nearly covering the entire room before his gaze returned to the young man. "I'm assuming you tried to limit the spell's power?"
Harry nodded.
"And when you performed these spells in the past, did they ever produce results like this?"
"No. Never."
"Well, it's quite obvious what the problem is then," Salazar drawled before rolling his eyes when Harry didn't immediately piece it together. "You no longer hold an adequate level of control over your magic."
"Control?"
"Yes. Sheer power can only accomplish so much when casting magic. You can successfully use low-level spells, like the ones you've just cast, but they tend to be immensely overpowered. However, spells of a greater difficulty demand sufficient power and control to ensure success, and those requirements only increase once you start delving into magic of greater complexity."
"Like the disillusionment charm," Harry muttered in realization, explaining at the looks he was getting. "I've gotten really good at casting that spell, but it suddenly didn't work for me last night."
"Which is another hint that you no longer have sufficient control," said Salazar.
"Which is…odd. At least for someone your age," Helena said softly with a frown. "It is not unheard of for a child beginning their first year at Hogwarts to experience difficulties controlling the amount of magic they use. One of the reasons Hogwarts admits students at a young age is so they can develop some instinctive control before their bodies and magic start to grow…But for a fourth-year to suddenly struggle with this aspect is not something I've ever encountered, nor would I have an idea as to why."
Harry nodded absentmindedly at her words, the recent memory of having his soul seized and transported into his younger body flashing through his head. While he wouldn't claim to be any sort of expert on matters of the soul, he knew far more than most, and one of the things he was absolutely certain of was that magic was connected to the soul.
And if this younger body suddenly found itself with an older soul with more magic…Harry wondered, looking at the founder with a considering look before asking a question. "Can your control be diminished if the magic was to rapidly grow overnight?"
The founder's brows scrunched together as he pondered over the question.
"It can…but for such a thing to happen would necessitate extremely complex, highly dangerous rituals," Salazar said severely before shaking his head. "Not to mention the heavy toll it would take on your body as it seeks to accommodate the abrupt expansion of power, which you are clearly not suffering from."
Harry nodded, somewhat pleased that he got some measure of confirmation.
"I guess it doesn't really matter at the moment," said Harry. "What's more important is how I can fix it."
Salazar leaned back in his chair with a small frown as he considered the question.
"The only reliable method for resolving this issue is to regain that sense of familiarity with your magic, and for that, I would suggest relearning how to cast all the spells you know. A process that, while time-consuming and tedious, is more than worthwhile by the end since it grants you a more intimate understanding of your magic," Salazar explained before continuing once he saw the signs of protest appear on Harry's face. "However, I am aware that you might not have the luxury of time on your side…when is the first task?"
"Twenty-fourth of November."
"A little more than three weeks," Helena muttered. "Did they give a hint as to what it might be?"
"Only that is a test of daring, of courage in the face of the unknown," Harry said, making a concerned frown appear on her face.
"That's practically nothing to go on."
"It is not entirely unheard of for champions to remain completely unaware of what they might encounter. Adhering to this rule was considered honorable in the earliest editions of the tournament," Salazar pointed out before shrugging. "Of course, that belief dwindled over time, so much so that cheating is now considered a tournament tradition, which will surely be the case now."
"Then we might find out what the first task might entail as we approach the date," Helena murmured.
"In the meantime, all I can do is focus on practicing spells that I think might be important," said Harry, with the other two nodding in agreement.
At least this time, he wouldn't be going into the first part of the tournament entirely unprepared.
I only have to find another way of stealing an egg from a dragon that Death would find noteworthy…I don't think trying to outfly the dragon would be tolerated a second time.
"The sooner you begin and the more time you spend regaining your control, the better," Salazar said before eyeing him firmly. "And do not hesitate to request the use of the Restricted Section. You might find some spells there that could prove to be beneficial."
Harry nodded, sighing internally, as he realized that whatever tentative plans he had begun to make concerning the Horcruxes would have to be halted—at least until he fixed this issue.
It was at that moment that Harry's stomach let out a noticeable growl of hunger, reminding him that it had been several hours since his last meal.
"But maybe after I've eaten first," Harry said sheepishly before rolling his eyes once he noticed the amusement dancing in Helena's eyes.
"I should make my way back as well. The other ghosts might start wondering about my whereabouts if I'm gone too long, and I'd rather not have to deal with that," she said before following Harry, who had already started heading to the door.
"Perhaps now is the time to mention that there's another way to leave the chamber," Salazar announced, stopping them in their tracks.
"There's another way?" asked Harry before a small look of annoyance appeared. "Why didn't you say so before?"
"You didn't ask," Salazar said simply with a small smirk before hissing out a command.
A soft rumbling sounded as a portion of the empty wall beside the portrait began to lower itself into the ground, revealing a spiral staircase leading to what he assumed was the castle.
"This will lead you to one of the dungeons near the Slytherin common room, and it's not too far away from the main staircase," he told them before eyeing the pair with a serious gaze. "And while the staircase is reasonably hidden, I must stress the importance of proceeding with vigilance."
Harry and Helena nodded in understanding before heading up the stairs, the wall closing behind them.
Hermione made her way softly and with utmost caution across the dimly lit dormitory towards the door. Each step was carefully calculated as she tried her best not to make the slightest bit of noise, acutely aware of the other girls still sleeping and would be for a couple more hours.
Only when the door closed behind her without the slightest hint of a sound did she relax before heading down toward the common room, huffing in annoyance at the sight that greeted her.
"Honestly, they could have at least cleaned up the mess they made," Hermione muttered as she sidestepped a couple of butterbeer bottles, a small yelp leaving her lips when another voice spoke up.
"I didn't want to deal with it at the time," the voice groaned from behind the couch. A small hint of movement followed before Lee Jordan's groggy face popped up over the edge. "Morning, Hermione."
"Morning," the fourth year returned softly, asking the first question that sprung into her mind. "Did Harry ever make his way back?"
"As far as I'm aware, no. We tried to wait as long as possible to celebrate together, but he never showed up," the older boy shrugged. "And most of the older students didn't want all the drinks to go to waste, so we started without him."
Hermione nodded slowly, looking toward the boy's dormitory with a worried frown. It wasn't hard for her to imagine the agitated state the boy must have been in last night, and she didn't doubt he would have struggled to get any decent amount of sleep.
"I can go check up on him if you want?" Lee offered.
"No. I'll just wait for him to come down," Hermione said quietly.
I just hope he's okay. She thought before starting to make her way toward the common room. She waved a quick goodbye toward the other Gryffindor, completely missing Lee's knowing look as she began heading down to the Great Hall.
If she was quick about it and if luck was on her side, she might be able to catch Harry before he left the common room.
With a goal to focus on, she began hurrying her pace and descended the grand staircase with relative ease.
If I know him, which I do more than anybody else, he would want to avoid being in any place that would have him as the center of attention, even if that meant avoiding the dining hall and going hungry. So, I should bring him something to eat. Toast, maybe?
Hermione made her way down the final staircase and headed toward the open entrance of the dining hall, which was unsurprisingly empty save for a few early risers. She then walked beside the Gryffindor table, focusing on her self-appointed.
"Good morning, Hermione."
She ignored the greeting from whoever that might have been, her hazel brown eyes zeroing in on a plate of toasted bread that she quickly grabbed, wrapping a few of them inside a napkin. With the task nearly accomplished, she grabbed a couple of pieces of fruit for herself and began to make her way back.
"Oi. I said good morning, Hermione."
Once again, she gave no indication of returning the greeting, barely offering a glance in the messy-haired boy's direction as she continued on her way before stopping suddenly.
Hold on a minute. Hermione's eyes scrunched up as her mind tried to decipher what she had just seen.
Turning around quickly, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the boy she had been worrying about since last night, sitting at the table with a small grin on his face.
Hermione could only stare at him, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to formulate some words. She did, eventually, but instead of the question she had desired to say leaving her lips, all that left her mouth was a garbled mess of words.
The grin on Harry's face soon gained a teasing quality, and the sight of it made heat begin to rise to her cheeks for two different reasons.
Thankfully, he seemed to have still managed to understand what she had been trying to ask, stopping her from repeating herself and potentially saving her from making a fool of herself again.
"I'm eating breakfast, of course. What else would I be doing here?" Harry said before patting the spot next to him, his meaning clear.
Doing her best to regain her composure, Hermione made her over to the spot he indicated. She sat down gently next to him with barely any space between them.
"You know what I meant," Hermione said as she looked at him before realizing his attention was drawn to the bread in her hands. "Oh, I…uh…was going to bring you some toast. In case you were hungry."
She nodded toward the empty plates in front of Harry that contained some smattering of crumbs left on them.
"But that doesn't look like that will be the case anymore."
Hermione made to return the bread, but a gentle hand on her arm stopped her.
"Can I still have it?" Harry whispered, eyeing the food in her hands intently before looking at her with an expression of fondness that caught her off-guard. Not trusting herself to speak, not after the previous debacle, the girl simply nodded, earning herself a smile from the boy as he reached for the food and placed it on his plate.
Harry turned back to look at her, fondness still on his face, as if the mere sight of her brought him joy. The heat she had tried so desperately to squash began to make its way back onto her face due to the gaze she found herself under.
Oh, crap. He's going to notice. Hermione thought, unable and unwilling to look away from the boy before her.
She gasped when she suddenly found herself enveloped in a tight embrace from Harry, who had never initiated a hug as far as she could recall. However, she quickly overcame her surprise and wrapped her arms around the boy, savoring every moment she could bask in his warmth.
Harry drew back after a while, followed by a reluctant Hermione, who managed to keep the disappointment off her face.
"It's good to see you," he said with a smile. His words made her raise an eyebrow, but she still returned the gesture.
"It's good to see you too, even if I'm a bit surprised to see you here," Hermione said, looking at him seriously. "Now, care to explain why you were selected as a champion?"
A mischievous grin spread lightly across his face before Harry uttered his next words. "Because I managed to slip my name into the Goblet of Fire.
She stared at him for a couple of seconds before whispering harshly.
"What?"
"Cheat."
The harsh, whispered word reached his ear, and it was enough to make Harry look up from the textbook he was reading. His eyes landed upon a Hufflepuff girl whose name he could not recall. She stared daggers at him as she passed the table he and Hermione occupied.
Harry raised a single eyebrow in response, entirely unfazed by the look he was receiving, before returning to the parchment he had been writing on.
On the other hand, Hermione was not shy in showing her irritation with what was becoming a common occurrence as she glowered at the Hufflepuff, who wilted at the look before scurrying away.
"I think Professor McGonagall has some competition for the best glare in the school," Harry remarked lightly. "Maybe that'll get them to back off and leave us alone."
"Good, because it is rapidly getting on my nerves," she huffed.
"You'll get used to it," Harry said softly after a while. "The more you show how unbothered you are, the less they'll disturb you."
"I know that, but I could do without all the looks sent toward you," she whispered as she bit her lip apprehensively. "You shouldn't have to deal with their attitude. Not when you already have the tournament to worry about."
After Hermione had gotten over her shock at his words earlier in the morning, she hadn't wasted any time demanding to know what had happened the night before.
Harry had done so, and she wasn't at all pleased with what he had said.
The girl had frowned when he described the other three champions' feelings toward him, and she reproached him lightly after he admitted to being a tad bit confrontational, particularly to Fleur.
However, her displeasure was soon directed at him again once he told her his intention to continue portraying himself as a willing competitor, claiming there was no need to. She begrudgingly accepted his reasoning only after he told her what opinion the rest of the school would inevitably have of him, using ostracization in their second year as an example.
However, his willingness to face the situation head-on didn't ease any of the concern she felt for him, and since she couldn't change his mind, she opted instead to help prepare for the tournament.
That meant heading to the library as soon as possible but not before making a detour to the owlery so Harry could send a letter to Sirius.
Hopefully, I get a response soon. Harry thought as he wrote down another spell worth focusing on.
"What about Ron?" Hermione asked suddenly, making him look at her. "Have you talked to him yet?"
Harry shook his head. "Haven't had the chance to."
"It was probably for the best that you don't. You noticed the look Ron had on his face once your name was called, right?"
"Kinda hard not to."
"Do you understand why he reacted that way?"
"Jealousy."
"Right…Ever since we've known each other, you have always tended to be the center of attention. I know it's not your intention," Hermione said, hastily adding the last part to prevent a harsh reaction that never came. She eyed him oddly before shaking her head softly. "But while I can understand that you despise your fame, it's a bit more difficult for Ron since he often feels forgotten about. It's hard to set yourself apart from others when you have six siblings and a friend who's a celebrity."
"My entry into the tournament only made him feel like he was shoved to the side again," he said while nodding at her words, remembering the first time the girl had tried to explain things to him.
He had stubbornly refused to consider his other friend's feelings about the matter, which only served to strain their friendship.
"Ordinarily, I would be pushing the both of you to talk and smooth things over, but I don't think that would be a good idea anymore. Not if you'll be claiming you put your name in the goblet."
"Even if I told him why, the fact that I'm not shying away from the attention might still rub Ron the wrong way and potentially make things worse."
"Exactly…But I'm sure he'll come around eventually."
Waiting for his other friend to realize the dangers of the tournament seemed to be the best course of action, a thought that the girl across from him seemed to share.
"I know he will," Harry said before throwing a small grin at the bushy-haired girl across from him. "I guess it'll just be the two of us for the time being."
"I suppose it will be," Hermione responded softly with a grin of her own as she tucked some of her hair behind her ear. She stared at him for a moment before clearing her throat lightly. "Are you done with the list you've made?"
Harry shook his head.
"Not yet. I still want to see if I can find any other shield charms," he said, sliding his piece of parchment toward her as he stood up. "Here. You can look it over if you want. I'm going to the Charms section."
Hermione simply nodded, her attention already completely focused on the collection of spells written on the parchment. Harry took that as his cue to start making his way to the other side of the library.
Many more students were milling around the place at this hour, and the majority weren't hesitant to show their displeasure towards him, which he easily ignored.
Browsing the advanced section, he reached for a specialized book about shield charms written by Miranda Goshawk when a woman spoke up from behind him.
"I think the spells in that book are far outside your capabilities," a familiar voice said, carrying a noticeable French accent before her next words removed all doubt as to who it might be. "Little boy."
Harry turned around with a sigh, soon finding himself looking at the deep blue eyes of Fleur Delacour.
Like the night before, her expression was dismissive as she looked at him with a haughty smirk.
"You seem so sure of that," Harry said. "I wonder if you'll still feel that way after this little boy outperforms you in the first task."
Her eyes tightened just a bit, but enough for him to notice. He didn't bother hiding the smirk rising to his lips, which widened further when she scoffed.
"C'est impossible. I am the most brilliant witch Beauxbatons has seen in years," Fleur said confidently, flipping her long silvery-blonde hair over her shoulder before stepping close enough that he had to look up just a tad. "You, on the other hand, are only a fourth-year. And not a particularly impressive-looking one at that."
This time, it was her who had a victorious smirk appear on her face as a result of Harry pursing his lips in minor annoyance.
After a moment, he said, "I guess we'll just wait and see," grabbing the book he intended to take before walking past the older girl.
He gave Fleur one last challenging look, which she readily returned before continuing to make his way back to Hermione.
A hint of must have still been on his face as the bushy-haired girl quickly picked up on it.
"Is everything alright?"
"I just found some extra motivation for the tournament, is all," Harry said, looking through the book he brought back with renewed enthusiasm.
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts
Sunday
November 1st, 1994
Albus watched calmly as Severus strode stoically into his office, his steps barely a whisper. Behind him followed his old friend Alastor, his wooden leg announcing the owner's arrival before he had even stepped into view.
The pair had gone to inspect the Goblet of Fire at the Ministry to find an explanation as to why the Triwizard tournament had four participants.
Both men stopped before his desk, with the former auror slightly behind and off to the side, his magical eye moving around wildly.
"Well?" the Headmaster asked, breaking the silence that had descended upon the room. "Did you find any hint as to how young Harry would have managed to get himself chosen as a champion?"
"None," the potion's master said. "At least, none that I would deem reasonable."
Alastor coughed roughly, grabbing their attention. He took a swig from his flask before speaking.
"Well, I do…There are two possibilities. One, the lad managed to confound the goblet to such a degree that it practically ensured his selection."
"Unlikely," Severus muttered with a sneer.
"Or, on a sheer whim, the cup decided to shoot out another name for the tournament," Alastor growled out, sending a nasty glare in the other man's direction. "Which is far more unlikely. No, my money is on the boy somehow managing to bamboozle the cup."
"I reiterate the improbability of that being the case. The boy is, at best, mediocre at casting charms and nowhere near sufficiently skilled enough to accomplish what you suggest."
"He is capable of casting the Patronus Charm," Albus said calmly, looking pointedly at Severus. "A fully corporeal one, as well."
"Now, isn't that interesting," A triumphant grin spread across the heavily scarred man's face. "And at such a young age…What else is the lad capable of, I wonder?"
"I wouldn't place expect much from him, Mad-Eye. The boy is lazy and arrogant, without a hint of ambition running through his blood."
Albus paid no mind to the words that left the potion master's mouth, instead opting to stare at the note Minerva had sent him earlier in the day. Apparently, young Harry had requested access to the Restricted Section, and he, while hesitant, was inclined to give it to him.
However, he wasn't so sure anymore.
It is best to err on the side of caution. Albus thought, the image of a boy he knew so long ago flashing through his head. He began to write his response to the Gryffindor head of the house before sending it on its way.
Dungeons, Hogwarts
Monday
November 2nd, 1994
Hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry descended onto the dungeon floor, his steps growing cautious once he caught sight of a pair of girls heading his way.
The taller, blonde girl he vaguely recognized was currently leading the younger, petite one, and the green trim on their robes let him know to which house they belonged.
"I told you. I'm feeling fine," the younger, browned-haired girl said as she crossed her arms across her chest, exasperated.
"Whether or not you feel fine does not matter. You're supposed to have yourself checked out by Madam Pomfrey every other night," said the blonde before grabbing the younger girl's arm. "Now come, I'd rather not be out any later than I need to."
Harry smiled in amusement when he saw the brown-haired girl let out a groan of exasperation but nonetheless let herself be dragged along. He made sure to give the pair of them a wide berth as they passed before continuing on his way toward the general direction of the Slytherin common room.
As he approached a blank stretch of wall, he made two quick right turns and continued down a dimly lit hallway that only seemed to grow narrower and darker the deeper into it he went.
Harry continued forward despite all this, his footsteps echoing softly in the passageway. Eventually, he stepped into a medium-sized chamber and took off his cloak.
"Took you long enough," Helena said, emerging from one of four pillars in the center of the room.
"I came here as quickly as I could. Coming down seven flights of stairs under a cloak isn't the easiest thing to do," Harry responded before making his way to one of the cells off to the side.
"Better than using the other entrance."
"I don't know about that. I like sliding down the tube. It's more fun that way."
"It's also completely unsanitary."
Harry shook his head amusedly before a hiss left his mouth, the command making the metal bars and everything behind them ascend into the ceiling before a staircase replaced it. The pair calmly made their way down them before stepping into the bedroom they had discovered previously.
"Good. You're here," Salazar said at the sight of them. The older man turned his attention toward Harry. "If you're ready to begin, take my portrait to the main chamber. I wish to observe your progress."
Harry simply nodded as he tossed his cloak onto the chair. He levitated the large portrait with barely a hint of a struggle before making his way down along with Helena.
"You've been practicing," she pointed out as they descended the stairs.
"Just a little, and only some of the first-year spells. It was frustrating at first, but I'm starting to get some measure of control back."
"It's good you've taken the initiative. However, remember not to waste too much time on simple spells," Salazar said before letting out a mournful sigh once he caught sight of the dead beast in front of them. "Oh, look what has become of my basilisk. Killed by a simple sword."
"It was Godric's sword."
"…Being killed by a mere boy was shameful enough, but to be slain by that damn brute's weapon? How dreadful of an ending for the king of serpents."
Harry shrugged unapologetically before leaning the portrait against one of the many stone pillars that lined the floor.
He took out the list of spells he had made with Hermione's help and presented it to the founder. The older wizard took a moment to review the list alongside Helena before looking at him.
"It is adequate, I suppose. Though it does lack some more powerful spells."
"This is just a starting point. I could always start learning more advanced magic later, but only after I regain control."
"Then, it is in your interest to do so as soon as possible," the founder said firmly.
"Did you obtain permission to use the Restricted Section?" Helena asked, frowning when Harry shook his head. "Did you not ask Professor McGonagall?"
"I did, but I was denied," he clarified, a twinge of bitterness in his voice.
In the previous timeline, he had only been granted access prior to the second task and only for a single occasion. This time, he had harbored hope things would be different, and had asked his head of house for permission yesterday after breakfast, only to be disappointed come dinner time.
"Surely, they must understand the situation you find yourself in?" the ghost said critically. "You are at a disadvantage in this tournament, and while rules state they cannot help you complete the tasks, that does not mean they cannot help you in other ways."
"Perhaps they now consider it your responsibility to deal with it since you did claim to have entered yourself willingly," Salazar mused as he looked at the young man.
"They should still be concerned for his well-being," Helena said severely, looking at the portrait after a moment. "What of the books in the bedroom? Would they be of any use?"
The founder shook his head.
"No. Most of those are devoted to potion-making, history, and other obscure pieces of magic that are, quite frankly, useless in combat. And I never deemed it worth the effort to expand on what was stored since this portrait would allow me unrestricted access to the library."
"I could always use my cloak to sneak into the Restricted Section at night," Harry suggested, only to be rebuffed by the ghost beside him.
"But you would not be able to check them out," she said.
"And you can hardly spend your nights simply reading through books," Salazar said. "That would be a waste of time. It would be better to practice what you already know. The matter of how to expand your repertoire of spells will have to be dealt with another time."
Harry nodded, remembering the letter he sent to Sirius yesterday. Hopefully, he would get a positive response from his godfather. It would go a long way in helping with the Horcruxes and the tournament.
"Well, best get started," Harry said after a moment, creating some space between him and the other two, his wand twirling in his hand. "What should I practice first?"
"The shield charm," Helena proposed before looking up from the parchment he had placed on the floor. Both he and Salazar nodded in agreement.
"Protego."
A hazy, almost completely transparent shield appeared before Harry before fading away a few seconds later.
"A pitiful attempt," Salazar said condescendingly, ignoring the slight glare Helena sent his way.
"A perfectly good attempt considering his situation," she said firmly before looking at Harry encouragingly. "Go on. Try again."
"Protego."
The shield looked much the same but stayed intact for a fraction of a second longer, which bolstered him as he cast the spell again.
"Protego."
Another successful attempt presented itself with just the slightest hint of improvement.
This is going to be a long night.
Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico
Friday
November 6th, 1994
Wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, Sirius walked out of the small shack he had made himself in a forest clearing. He still wasn't accustomed to the area's tropical weather but didn't mind it too much.
As long as it wasn't the freezing hellhole of Azkaban and far away from any Ministry presence, then he could manage.
"I could do without the humidity, though," Sirius said as he walked past the large form of Buckbeak, who was currently devouring several small rodents. He made his way over to a small fire where he was preparing himself a whole chicken.
Judging it to be ready, Sirius made to remove it from the metal rod, but the sound of movement had him looking at the hippogriff behind him. Recognizing the salivating gleam in the orange eyes of the large beast, he started shaking his head.
"No. No, you already had your dinner," he said before pointing to the slowly rotating chicken. "That's mine."
Undeterred by his words, Buckbeak continued to stare intensely at him, glancing in the direction of the food, making his point clear.
"Nuh-uh, I'm not giving you any," Sirius said as he waved his wand to remove the food from the metal rod, then levitated it over to begin slicing it into pieces. He tried his best to ignore the hippogriff pawing at the ground with his long claws. "Not this time, buddy. No, sir. This chicken is for me, and me only."
Once he finished preparing his food, he made his way over to sit on the simple chair beside his small shack, feeling his resolve once again begin to crumble at the sound of hooves behind him.
A sigh of resignation left him before he grabbed a couple of slices of his plate. "Should have never given you any…All right, fine…but this is the last time. You hear me?"
He eyed Buckbeak firmly before tossing a couple of large pieces into the air, a small grin working its way across his lips when the beast immediately swallowed them up.
"You live a good life, Buckbeak," he told him, beginning to eat his dinner.
Moments later, he was interrupted when a barn owl suddenly flew past him, nabbing a piece of his chicken while dropping a letter on his lap.
"What the hell?" Sirius yelped, completely caught off guard. He scowled at the bird now perched on top of his shack, throwing a finger at it when it flew away.
He grumbled a bit but nonetheless grabbed the letter on his lap before standing up to read it, placing his food on the seat he just left.
Instantly recognizing his godson's handwriting, Sirius hastily began to read the words, an eager smile on his lips, however, the expression was soon replaced with one of grimness as his eyes drifted down the parchment.
"How the fuck does that even happen?" Sirius muttered as he reread the part about Harry's entry into the tournament, his eyes inevitably making their way to the next part.
His godson would try to get permission for the Restricted Section at Hogwarts. However, in case Harry was denied, he asked him if he knew of another place that might help him bridge the gap between him and the other three competitors.
Sirius's brows furrowed as he thought of another option, a heavy grimace emerging on his face as his mind instantly conjured up the image of his childhood home.
I might not like our reputation, but there's no denying that the Black Family library is filled with all sorts of useful magic, Sirius thought as he began to pace back and forth along the ground. He could use some of it.
Leaving the castle was a non-issue since Harry had the Invisibility Cloak and a multitude of hidden passageways at his disposal. Merlin knows the Marauders used that same method extensively back in the day.
The bigger problem was how his godson would enter the Black ancestral home since the wards were currently set to expel any and all unknowns with extreme prejudice. Harry would have to be keyed into them, and there was only one person who had the permission to do that.
And if it were up to me, I'd never return to that damn place. He thought as he stopped to gaze at the stars twinkling brightly in the night sky. But if I can help Harry in any way possible…
Coming to a decision, Sirius turned to look at his companion with a look of determination.
"I guess we are heading back home, Buckbeak," he told the hippogriff before his eyes widened in surprise once he noticed the empty state of his plate.
"My food!"
A/N:
Another chapter is done and dusted. Hopefully, you all liked it.
I plan on getting to the first task within two chapters, and I already have a rough layout of how that is going to go.
Until then, peace.