Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the intellectual property associated with Harry Potter.
Hi all,
Here's the next chapter. Something unexpected joins the Quidditch game, and Harry attends his press conference.
Chapter 45
The Gryffindor team was in exceptional form, quickly taking a 70-30 lead over Hufflepuff. Harry, flying above them on his broomstick, continued to look for the snitch. On two occasions, he narrowly avoided being struck by the bludgers as they were batted his way by the opposing team's beaters. Interestingly, despite the possibility that the bludgers would injure him, Harry's instincts remained silent, failing to warn him of any imminent threat. Perhaps the reason was that, because this was a sport, anything that followed the rules wasn't deemed a threat to him.
Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, kept his distance from Harry and patrolled a different part of the sky. Harry wasn't sure if Cedric didn't consider him a worthy opponent or if he just preferred to stick to his own strategy. Regardless, Harry wasn't bothered by Cedric's opinion of him.
Harry's head turned as he saw a shimmering gold flicker in his peripheral vision. The glimmer was coming from one side of the stands, just below the lowest seats. Harry looked at Cedric and noticed that he was facing the opposite direction. He flew towards the stands without hesitation. The crowd's thunderous cheers filled his ears as they realised he had found the snitch.
"Potter is the first to spot the snitch!" Lee shouted. "Cedric has only just noticed and is in pursuit, but Potter has a commanding lead."
Harry's gaze was fixed on the snitch, which had been motionless since he first noticed it. As he approached the stands, he made a sharp turn and flew across them. As he closed in, he extended his hand, but the snitch darted away at that exact moment. It shot upwards, following the curve of the stands and barely passing over the heads of the students who were watching. Harry quickly turned and pursued, idly noting the amazed expressions on the faces below him. When the snitch reached the top of the stands, it abruptly changed direction and shot to the left. Harry pursued it, but his concentration was broken by Cedric's sudden appearance.
Cedric unexpectedly veered into Harry's path, forcing him to swerve to avoid a collision. Harry felt a surge of frustration as he noticed Cedric's smug grin. Given Cedric's size advantage, any collision between the two would undoubtedly favour him. However, Harry remained determined and pursued Cedric relentlessly. As they approached the snitch, it unexpectedly took a sharp dive downward. Harry's reaction was faster, and he quickly pushed his broom handle down into a sharp dive. He could hear Cedric curse as he followed closely behind.
As Harry got closer to the snitch, he reached out his hand, the crowd roar echoing in his ears and the wind tugging at his clothes. Just when he thought victory was within reach, a black ball appeared in his peripheral vision. In a daring manoeuvre, he flipped upside down to avoid the oncoming Bludger, which was dangerously close to his broomstick. Meanwhile, Cedric, startled by Harry's move, narrowly avoided a collision by swerving away at the last second.
Harry quickly righted himself, only to find that the snitch had vanished.
"Fletchly successfully kept Potter from capturing the snitch," Lee exclaimed. "What a thrilling chase between the two seekers! Cedric has a size and reach advantage over Potter, but Potter compensates with faster reflexes and better overall flying ability."
Harry climbed higher into the sky, and Cedric decided to follow him.
"Wow, you are such a skilled flyer," Cedric said, flying beside him. "I thought it was a joke when Oliver chose you as a replacement. I wondered if he was doing a publicity stunt by choosing you."
Harry continued to scan his surroundings, but the comment made him frown. "Seriously? If you think Oliver would jeopardise his team for such a trivial reason, you don't know him well."
"Fair enough," Cedric agreed. "But why did you go along with it, especially since you had never played a game before?"
"Did I really have a choice in refusing the role, with the audience urging me on?"
"Ah, you don't want to disappoint your adoring fans," Cedric joked, his tone tinged with bitterness.
"I don't have to explain myself to you," Harry said, turning his broom in another direction. "I suggest that you concentrate on your game, or else you may lose to a beginner like me."
"I hear you," Cedric said, then took off flying.
The Gryffindor team led with a score of 110-60. As Harry searched for the snitch, he became increasingly frustrated by Oliver's constant instructions, which were shouted in his ear whenever he approached their goalposts. Despite his decision to stay away from Oliver, Harry kept an eye on the area in case the snitch appeared.
A few minutes later, Harry and Cedric spotted the snitch again, and the race began. The tiny golden ball hovered near the ground, prompting them to dive aggressively in pursuit. Harry leaned forward, urging his broom to move faster. As he got closer to the snitch, Cedric tried again to knock him off course, but Harry saw it coming and braked slightly, narrowly avoiding the collision. Cedric nearly lost his balance from the failed bump.
His instincts kicked in at that point, followed by an eruption of screams from the crowd. He turned to the side and saw a black figure hurtling towards the ground, trailing the snitch. His eyes widened in surprise as he spotted a dragon. It had jet-black scales, a jagged ridge running along its spine, and a tail studded with small spikes. Even though it appeared to be a juvenile, its size was impressive—about twice as large as him.
Should he pull out of the dive? Cedric had the same thought as he raised his broom handle to get out of the dive. Harry wasn't going to face off against a dragon either, even if he was only a juvenile. Just as he was about to hit the brakes, the dragon turned and noticed him. Its powerful roar echoed through the air as it abruptly changed direction, heading straight for him.
As the ground approached at an alarming rate, he pulled back on the broom, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ground, his feet brushing the tips of the grass. He abandoned his pursuit of the snitch with a deft right-hand turn. He hoped the dragon would abandon him in favour of the shiny gold object it had originally pursued.
Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side, as the dragon persisted in chasing him. Harry growled in frustration, perplexed by the dragon's sudden appearance. Just as this thought entered his mind, a massive figure appeared, sprinting towards him.
"Norbert, stop!" Hagrid shouted.
It didn't surprise him that Hagrid was somehow connected to the dangerous creature on the loose. Just as a memory flashed through his mind, he was interrupted by another alarm ringing through his senses. He quickly turned around to see the dragon open its mouth, releasing a stream of flames directly at him.
He flung himself off his broom and tumbled across the ground. Flames had engulfed the broom he had been riding. As he tried to get back on his feet, the dragon appeared in front of him. A surge of terror coursed through his veins; he couldn't possibly avoid the dragon in such close proximity. Then, out of nowhere, a massive figure launched himself through the air and tackled the dragon just before it reached Harry.
Hagrid and the dragon wrestled and tumbled across the grass, locked in a fierce battle. Harry marvelled at Hagrid's strength as he gradually gained control of the creature. Harry unintentionally rested his hand on the ground, only to feel the soft touch of wings fluttering against his fingers. Acting instinctively, he closed his hand and raised it to inspect what he had caught—the Snitch was fluttering furiously in his grasp.
"What are the odds?" Harry stared at the snitch in bemusement.
Suddenly, the roar of the crowd reached his ears, accompanied by Lee's clamouring voice, as if the volume had been turned up. Looking around, he noticed two teams landing on the ground and sprinting towards him. Madam Hooch was also approaching.
"Harry, are you alright?" Angelina asked, concerned. She gently touched him, checking for injuries.
"I'm fine. The landing wasn't too bad," Harry said, raising his hand to show her the snitch. "Does my catch still count given the dragon's appearance?"
Angelina rolled her eyes. "Never mind that. No one cares about that at the moment."
"You were amazing, Harry!" Oliver exclaimed as he approached them. He ignored Harry's protests and hugged him tightly. "I knew you could do it. Not even a dragon could hinder your determination. Get the snitch or die trying is exactly the attitude that a good seeker needs."
Harry looked at Angelina, who responded with a sheepish shrug.
The rest of the Gryffindor team arrived and slapped his back with approval.
"Hagrid, could you please explain yourself?" Madam Hooch roared, standing over the giant, who still held the struggling dragon in his grasp.
As Harry watched them, a memory from last year came flooding back. He had once visited Hagrid's house and discovered a dragon egg. The memory had completely slipped his mind until now, and he was now seeing the consequences of his forgetfulness. He had no idea how quickly a dragon could grow after hatching, given that only several months had passed.
"We just got word that Harry Potter had caught the snitch!" Lee exclaimed, drawing a roaring response from the audience. "But, with the dragon's unexpected intervention, will the outcome be considered official? I believe it is fair play, given that unforeseen events are common in the world of Quidditch.
Harry and the rest of his team walked off the pitch, where they met up with his grandparents and friends. In a rare occurrence, Harry's grandmother expressed her pride in his performance in the game rather than chastising him for putting himself in danger.
"Hagrid's going to be in big trouble, isn't he?" Harry asked.
Charlus nodded, frowning. "It is illegal to own a dragon. I don't expect him to keep his job after this, and he will most likely face a large fine. He will be lucky to not receive a prison sentence for putting the students in danger. It couldn't have come at a worse time as well."
"Given Headmaster Flitwick's precarious position, it is concerning that another incident has occurred just before his important meeting with the school governors," Daphne added. "This unfortunate turn of events will undoubtedly reinforce traditionalists' beliefs against half-breeds."
"Poor Hagrid," Hermione said, shaking her head. "How could he have been so foolish as to try such a stunt inside the school?"
"Well, he probably thought he had more time with the dragon when the castle went into lockdown," Harry sighed. "The dragon escaped at the worst possible time."
"Will the game still stand?" Tracy asked. "They haven't announced anything yet."
"Is that the only thing you care about?" Padma asked, outraged.
"I wasn't the one raising a dragon," Tracy replied coolly. "If Harry had reacted any slower, he would have suffered severe burns or worse."
"What type of dragon is it?"
"A Norwegian Ridgeback," Gabrielle said. "You are fortunate that it was still young."
Just as they were about to enter the tunnel leading to the changing rooms, they heard Madam Hooch's voice echoing from the pitch. "Ladies and gentlemen, it has been confirmed that the match results will stand. Gryffindor has emerged victorious with a score of 280-80."
"You have your answer," Harry said, not caring about the result.
"Are we going to watch the other quidditch match?" Tracy asked.
"I can't be bothered," Harry said. "I have to change for the press conference in the castle."
When Harry looked back, he saw Hagrid sitting on the ground, balling his eyes. The dragon had been stunned and restrained. He felt bad about letting the dragon egg slip his mind, even though he was distracted by other things at the time. He hoped Hagrid would only face a fine because the gentle giant had no malicious intent behind his actions. Perhaps his fascination with dangerous beasts wasn't a good fit for the school. Nonetheless, he was able to save Harry, despite being the reason he was in danger in the first place.
Harry sat beside his grandparents, watching the swarm of reporters enter the room. He was taken aback by the sheer number of people at the press conference. The announcement that he would be awarded the Order of Merlin First Class sparked international interest, attracting journalists from all over the world eager to get their hands on the story. When Harry saw Lauren enter, he smiled and waved, relieved to have at least one reporter on his side. His mood turned sour when Rita Skeeter arrived. He was sure she had come to cause some trouble.
Earlier, Harry had spoken with Lauren to request a favour. He intended to promote his product at the press conference. He hoped that by doing so, he would gain more leverage over the guild master when he returned to the guild to negotiate for the sale of the appraisal scroll.
The press conference was taking place in a classroom on the second floor. His grandparents had already released a statement about a modified version of events about the incidents in the castle. Harry had rehearsed it several times to avoid any mistakes with the reporters. While it was as accurate as possible without revealing any major secrets, they chose to include the incident with the Chamber of Secrets in the overall story. Due to the Basilisk's fatal attacks on two individuals and the potential for more casualties, it likely played a crucial role in elevating the recognition from an Order of Merlin Second Class to a First Class.
After the reporters had taken their seats, Charlus stood to address the crowd.
"Let me be perfectly clear before we begin," Charlus said. "You are here with our permission. If I feel you are upsetting my grandson or asking inappropriate questions, I will not hesitate to kick you out. We will go around the room, with each reporter getting one question. If there is time, we will give you a second. Is that clear?"
Harry smirked as he saw the reporters nodding vigorously. His grandfather could be extremely intimidating when he wanted to, and it was clear that he was not holding back at this time.
"We will start with you," Minerva said, gesturing to a blonde woman seated in front.
"Merci," the woman said. "Hello, Monsieur Potter. I am Louise Roux from the French newspaper Le Cri de la Gargouille. My question is not about your amazing feat but about your relationship with Gabrielle Delacour. Is your relationship with her an indication that the Potter family is supporting Pierre Delacour's bid to become the next French Minister of Magic?
Charlus frowned at the question, casting a discreet glance at Harry and silently asking if he wanted to answer.
Harry gave him a nod before turning his attention to the reporter. "Feel free to make any assumptions you want," he replied. "But I would like to clarify that I have never discussed politics with her father, nor do I intend to in the future. The reason I am dating her is simply because she is an incredible witch."
"The Potters have no interest in getting involved in French politics," Charlus clarified. "We already have enough drama to deal with on this side of the pond."
The response elicited laughter from the reporters. Minerva then gestured to the next reporter, who was dressed in an unflattering brown tweed coat.
"Good day, Mr. Potter. I am John Wishtree, an American reporter for The Wizard's Voice newspaper. I understand you have the distinction of being the youngest person to receive the Order of Merlin First Class. Can you share your thoughts regarding this significant achievement?"
"I feel extremely fortunate and proud. I understand the significance of the title in Magical Britain, as it is given to witches and wizards who have accomplished extraordinary feats. Being counted among their ranks is a truly honourable distinction."
The following few questions were nothing special, simply inquiring about specifics about the events at Hogwarts. Then he came across Lauren, who gave him a smile of reassurance.
"Mr Potter, it is well known that you are working towards becoming an Artisan. How far along are you in creating your first artifact?"
"Well, it's a work in progress," Harry said, grinning. "I am confident that I will finish it by the end of the school year, as long as there are no further unexpected incidents."
The reporters let out some nervous laughter.
"However, I have already created something else that makes me extremely proud," Harry explained, taking an appraisal scroll from his pocket. "While it might be deemed an enchantment since it's consumed when used, it has a highly beneficial effect."
"What does it do?" Lauren asked, in violation of the rule that one question per reporter.
"I can demonstrate it for you if you'd like," Harry offered. "Does anyone have a magical object with them? I need one to showcase the abilities of this scroll. Rest assured, nothing bad will happen to it."
An older man stood up and approached Harry, holding out something to him. He pulled out a pocket watch from his pocket. He introduced himself as Mick Brennan and explained that he purchased the watch several years ago from a store in Ireland.
Harry was taken aback when he saw the watch. It was strikingly similar to the one Lewis had given him as a Christmas present during the holidays. Before jumping to conclusions, Harry infused the watch with some magic. As he did so, he noticed the familiar rune appear on the back of the watch. It confirmed beyond a doubt that this watch was identical to his own.
"Is there something wrong?" Mick asked.
"No," Harry replied, setting the watch down on the appraisal scroll. "I was merely admiring the watch. You see, I have a habit of collecting various items, and there was something about this watch that immediately drew my attention."
"Well, name your price," Mick joked.
"We can talk later," Harry agreed, then looked down to see that the appraisal scroll had already finished its task.
He scolded himself for his foolishness. Why hadn't he thought about using the appraisal scroll on his watch? Upon reflection, he realised that it was most likely because a part of him wanted to solve the riddle on his own. Lewis had frequently presented him with challenges in the past, which he enjoyed immensely, so settling for the simple solution of the appraisal scroll felt like cheating. Furthermore, the scroll was not infallible, and it didn't always provide the most accurate or complete information.
Harry picked up the scroll and began reading the text.
Galahad's Province Pocket Watch [Superior Artifact]
This watch is one of three created by Sir Galahad, a student of the renowned Artisan Sir Lancelot. It has no purpose on its own and must be combined with the other two watches to reveal its true function. The Dagez rune is engraved on the back of the watch and remains hidden until it is infused with magic.
Sir Galahad remains a wizard shrouded in mystery, with only a few details available about his life. It's believed that he possessed extraordinary longevity, living for hundreds of years. According to rumours, Sir Galahad was inspired by his master and dedicated himself to the creation of unparalleled artifacts, thus continuing his master's work.
He needed this pocket watch. The only thing he knew about Lancelot was that he invented the sorting hat for the founders. That was a millennium ago. When was the first pocket watch created? How long did Galahad have to live before creating such an artefact?
If he can find the third, it may lead to something good. He couldn't believe that he had stumbled upon another watch by sheer chance. There must be something else going on here. But now that the scroll had revealed some of the watch's secrets, was Mick willing to give it up? He wished he hadn't used the scroll on the watch, but there was no taking it back.
"Harry? Is something wrong?"
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by his grandfather's question. "No, it is nothing," he answered. "Mick, this is the purpose of the scroll. It can appraise an item and reveal some of its hidden secrets."
Harry handed Mick the scroll, which he read with amazement. He then turned to show it to the other reporters, who were all stunned by its incredible function.
"Can you demonstrate it again?" Another reporter came forth with another item, and Harry obliged.
His grandparents were the last ones to read the scroll. Harry leaned over and whispered into his grandfather's ear. "I need that watch. I already own one of them. If I can find the third, it could lead to an incredible discovery."
"Are you sure?"
Harry nodded. "You may recall that Lancelot was the one who created the Sorting Hat. His apprentice must have created some incredible things as well."
That was enough to convince his grandfather. "I will negotiate with the man after the press conference. You will have to pay me back, though."
Harry returned his attention to the reporters. By this point, they were eager to ask more questions, so Minerva pointed to another reporter.
"Mr. Potter, have you grasped the significance of this scroll? Its ability to instantly reveal the secrets of any object is simply extraordinary. If it were to be made public, many historians and appraisers would likely lose their jobs."
"Keep in mind that this scroll has some limitations," Harry said. "While it can give a reasonably accurate description of an item, it doesn't reveal all of the details. Let me give you an example using Mick's watch here. The description alone is not very useful without all three watches. The other two might have been lost to time, and the scroll doesn't indicate their whereabouts. If you can't find the other two, then it's practically worthless."
Mick, who had been eagerly examining his watch, paused when he heard that statement. Harry intended to subtly imply to Mick that the pocket watch was of little value in order to negotiate a better price."
"Let's get back to the questions," Minerva said.
Inevitably, it came around to Rita Skeeters' question. Harry wondered why his grandparents would permit the presence of the woman, given the things she had written about their family in the past. He cast a sidelong glance at his grandfather, who was observing Rita with a predatory stare. Harry considered the possibility that his grandfather was waiting for more ammunition to use against her.
Rita smiled at Harry Potter with an expression resembling that of a shark. "You say that receiving the Order of Merlin First Class title is an incredible honour. However, it should be noted that Dumbledore also has the same title. Given his crimes, one could argue that it tarnishes the overall prestige of the title."
"You need to remember that he has been stripped of his last name," Harry told her. "He was awarded the title for defeating Grindelwald. But there are doubts about whether he accomplished that, given his previous relationship with Grindelwald. Perhaps his title should be taken away. Surprisingly, it hasn't happened yet."
"But that hasn't been officially proven," Rita said, smirking. "Perhaps you are attempting to gain more fame for yourself by ruining other people's reputations."
"I don't need to," Harry replied with a deadpan expression. "Albus No-Name's crimes have already ruined any credibility he once possessed. Next question."
6th February
Harry led Footshredder into Godric and Helga's chamber, which the goblin deemed appropriate for training purposes. He didn't mind showing Footshredder the room because it gave him a lot of privacy and relieved him of the discomfort of being watched by a group of girls. Until he regained access to the Room of Requirement, Harry thought this was the best option for him.
The goblin dragged something into the room for their training session today. Harry stared at the suit on the floor, its strange design resembling a pair of metallic pyjamas. The mere sight of it made him feel uncomfortable. The suit was made up of multiple detachable pieces that could be worn or discarded as needed. He crouched down and felt the material, which felt rough to the touch. The thought of it rubbing against his skin made him shudder.
"What the hell is this?" Harry asked.
"This is your training suit," Footshredder smiled, exposing his fangs. "You will be wearing this at training for the foreseeable future. This will teach you how to use your magic in different parts of your body, which is essential to mastering my movement technique."
"How is this supposed to help me?"
"It is made from a metal called starsteel," Footshredder explained. "It has anti-magic properties that limit your body's ability to produce magic. Wearing the entire suit will prevent you from using your Velocier ability. To train a specific area, you must remove the appropriate piece of the suit. This allows you to focus on harnessing a specific body part rather than flooding your entire body with magic, as you would normally do."
"Is this really necessary?" Harry groaned.
"Yes. The suit is also very heavy, which will help you continue to train your physique."
"I am going to sweat profusely in this suit."
"It will be torture," Footshredder said with a smirk.
"How do I even get this thing on?"
"With a lot of effort."
He then helped Harry into the suit, which took five minutes of contorting his body and swearing before he was wearing it. Only his feet remained bare, as that was what they would focus on first.
"Now I want you to start at level one," Footshredder instructed. "Your goal is to activate your ability only with your feet. This is easier said than done because if your magic is concentrated in any other part of your body, the suit will completely neutralise it."
Harry stood in the centre of the duelling stage. He activated the mechanism in his mind and turned the dial to one, thinking about pushing the magic into his feet. Nothing changed, except that he lost the small amount of magic required to activate the skill.
"Did you believe you could get it right away?" Footshredder sneered. "What a fool. Continue to work at it until your magical reserves run low. "I want you to do laps around the stage at the same time."
Harry groaned as he began moving around the stage. He soon began sweating profusely but he continued to run and spend his magic until he reached his limit and collapsed on the ground. At times like this, he couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen to train under Footshredder. After enduring the arduous training session, all of his efforts appeared to result in nothing but overwhelming frustration and exhaustion.
Taking off the suit was much more difficult than putting it on, and by the time he was done, he just wanted to go back to bed and sleep. He refused the temptation and took a shower instead. After he finished changing, he went down to the Great Hall.
He paused on the staircase, astounded by the extraordinary sight that greeted him at the front entrance. Rows of men and women gathered in front of robed figures who were unmistakably master artisans. Some of them he recognised from their visit to the castle last year.
The men and women standing in formation attracted the most attention. They wore stunning silver armour adorned with hundreds of intricate arrays. Each of them also carried a sword fastened to their belts and a crossbow slung across their back. Who are these people?
As he climbed down the stairs, he noticed Amelia Bones off to the side conversing with Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"What is going on?" Harry asked as he approached them. "Who are they?"
"Reinforcements," Amelia replied. "The Artisan Guild's main headquarters have finally begun to mobilise. They aren't going to suffer another loss of one of their own without reprisal."
"Who are the knights with the fancy armour?"
"They are the Artisan's Guild's Runic Knights," Kingsley said. "Each suit of armour is an artefact with dozens of enchantments that enhance their combat capabilities. Combine that with their physical prowess and weapon skills, and you have someone capable of easily defeating wizards. If there is someone inside the forest who kidnapped Master Karlsson, they will find them."
"Amazing!" Harry exclaimed, staring at the armour with hungry eyes. "Do you think they would sell me one of those armours?"
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Headmaster Flitwick pulls a surprise move on the Board of Governors.
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