Chapter 11. the goblet of problems
The three broomsticks, Hogsmeade, November 1st 1994
September and most of October had passed in a blir for Marcus, as uneventfully as last year. Between listening to Alexa's reports from Hogwarts and undergoing an odd test or two every now and then from Regulus, he didn't even have time to feel lonely due to Harry's absence. In other words, it was just an idilic time traveller's autumn. Unfortunately, all the idilic things come to an end sooner or later, the Longhurst style peace and quiet being no exception. That's why the strange pair of a furious wizard and an equally furious house elf found themselves picking at their breakfast in Hogsmeade, at the ungodly hour of dawn, too agitated to sleep longer, or eat anything properly for that matter.
If the reason of Marcus' sudden urge to have a very stern, just wandpoint stern talk with Dumbledor had been something else, he would have waited for it to pass. But anything concerning Harry Potter, or lack of reaction to his safety being breached, could not be dismissed. Even though Marcus expected this in some level, reading about the unwilling fourth champion of the Triwizard tournament was one thing, but seeing it first hand through his elf's eyes was absolutely different. no wonder his restless sleep was plagued with nightmares about a blazing goblet spitting out his not godsons name, despite of him being far from adult, and the school turning against one lone Gryffindor. Someone, and Marcus knew too well who, tampered with the goblet, exactly as history books stated. Except that this time four elves stood in the foul man's way since his first step into the school, but even that didn't prevent the worst of what happened. Despite the effort shown by the defensive squod, Harry had to suffer foe Moody's unorthodox (too gentle of a word) lessons, including the quite vivid demonstration of the unforgivable curses, all three of them. The session of Imperius was no exception, be it with a slightly weaker spell than the false teacher was capable of, thanks to Dobby's focus redirection charm(Alexa's teaching, no doubt). then the guests for the tournament arrived (the wizard couldn't understand all the kerfuffle surrounding them; he had seen foreign delegations throughout his short career as a flier, and none of them had so hotheaded fans). A week after the main wave of excitement subsided, the thrice be damned goblet of fire was wheeled out of Regulus' department, for the sole purpose of selecting the three champions of the tournament, one for each school. Very predictably but unfortunately, the death eater in auror's hide managed to trick the artifact into releasing a fourth name, therefore entering underage boy into the competition meant for adults. How this even happened, Marcus had no clue, but the (mostly) civil conversation with his to be former (mostly) respected non-authority figure was going to answer each and every question he had. Ignoring the early hour, the somewhat calmer wizard shook his head to clear the infuriating thoughts, for the time being at least, slung his trusty Firebolt on his shoulder (a circle or three around the castle were necessary to get his anger in check) and left the warm room, Alexa trailing miserably behind him.
Headmaster's office, Hogwarts, some time later
"enter", - Dumbledor's voice from the other side of the door sounded well too jovial for the pair's liking. Neither Marcus' impromptu acrobatic flying session nor Alexa's visit to the elves alleviated their emotions. Struggling not to smash the door to sawdust, the wizard entered the overly cosy looking office.
"good morning Sirius, Alexa. to who I ough the pleasure?" Albus too lost in the clouds Dumbledor spoke, as if nothing had occurred last night.
"good morning to you too Albus. – Marcus wasn't in the mood for niceties, deliberately staying on first name basis. "care to explain how, for Merlin's sake, schemes play at your own school without you knowing?) Dumbledor paled ever so slightly, taken aback by the obvious accusation hidden in the question, but decided to fain ignorance: "forgive my old head, but please elaborate. I am not aware of any schemes this year, if there are any." He tried to look either the wizard or his elf in the eye, but both averted their gaise just in time to avoid the suttle legilimency probe. Then mt Alexa erupted, ignoring Marcus' calming gesture: "Not aware! He chooses the most dangerous magical artifact for such an unimportant task as to select a few competitors, drawing a meesly age line to prevent underage students entering their names! I stand there in the entrance hall all day guarding the blasted thing, repelling sixth-years, and he doesn't even lift a finger to help! Then at night I order three elves to stand guard over the goblet, only to find them stunned and obliviated in the morning! How so convenient: no one remembers anything, so let's pretend it never happened!.. the rest was lost on two wizards, as Alexa switched to elven, her native tongue. Dumbledor gaped in surprise, and Marcus paled as a sheet of fresh parchment; whenever his elf switched to elven, what fortunately happened quite rarely, whatever unlucky soul it was directed at could as well start writing a will. "s-stop it!" – the younger man stammered weakly, ending the creature's terror set on the headmaster. "care to tell us Albus, how did Harry's name end in the goblet? And about those three elves… if Hogwarts is as safe a place as it showed to be last night, I'm revoking Alexa's contract and taking Harry to the continent."
"now Sirius, there is no need for such rushed decisions", - the headmaster took the few precious seconds to regain his image of a wisened elder. "I am investigating Harrys involvement myself, but there is nothing I can do. The goblet created a binding magical contract, and revoking it now might have… dier consequences. Fear not, I will make sure Harry is given an advantage…" "enough!" – Marcus had enough of old wizard's ramblings. "we will comply with your… decision… for now. But if only a hair falls from my godson's head…" the threat left unsaid, Marcus left the office without as much as a farewell, all the while mumbling darkly about incompetent headmasters and foolish contracts.
Albus too many duties Dumbledor sat stunned for a good minute, looking at the closed door of his office. He had expected some reaction from Sirius, after what happened with the god damned goblet of problems, as he involuntarily called it just this morning, but the conversation didn't at all go as planned. the fury of the two was immeasurable, and it was absolutely understandable, but what was he to do? Check each wand of fourth year and above? Stunning and obliviation charms weren't so difficult as to be narrowed down to the professors only, and three elves he found on the floor around the goblet in a triangle pattern were literally pulsing with these two. yes, some students and two teachers, namely Snape and Moody, were acting strange since the previous evening, but who was he to judge their actions? Yes, the goblet was apparently tampered with, but he was no god to revoke its decision. The tournament committee appeared to be just five incompetent fools, the students – heartless sheep, the remainder of the staff – brainless bystanders… all the ire fell on him as always, because he had failed, as always. And he will pay for it, no matter what it takes. Braving himself, headmaster Dumbledor did what every sensible wizard would do in his case – he swore the secret oath to protect Harry Potter, not as a headmaster but as true guardian, taking most of the weight off Sirius' shoulders while the boy stays at school. He didn't notice a plate of biscuits appearing on his desk, apparent sign of gratitude from Marcus through Alexa, but sudden wave of warmth was just as obvious a sign of his oaths acceptance.