The Prophet was quick to report on the attack, making full use of everyone's celebrity status. With Crouch locked within the Janus Thickey ward for the foreseeable future, and with Harry and Krum's silence on the matter, the paper had gone to their old standby.
Between Lockhart defending Harry's interests, the Bulgarian's Quidditch Wizarding Relations team defending Krum's and the Aurors keeping the matter quiet, their old standby didn't work well.
According to Lockhart, the Prophet had tried to say Harry had attacked Krum, Krum had attacked Harry, and then both had attacked Crouch. None of those stories had been allowed to be published, which forced the Prophet to be somewhat truthful.
'Ministry official and Triwizard champions attacked outside Hogwarts!'
It was typical Rita sensational writing, but given she had no primary evidence, it was shockingly accurate. Unsurprisingly it had completely glossed over Harry and Krum's conversation, merely mentioning they had stayed behind with the other three left.
Crouch's name was withheld, naming him only as an official, but they did manage to include the fact he appeared from the forest. In all, Harry could only conclude it was a testament to Rita's work when she decided to go back to her roots of investigative journalism.
As Nicholas had coined; "What a mess."
Nicholas had been quite excited to continue their Metalomancy, only to find out about the attack. Nevertheless, they travelled back into the Chamber, checking on the blade early in the morning.
Somewhat alarmingly, in a fairly large radius around the softly glowing blade, the dark green bricks had turned into an ashen grey. The air also felt slightly warmer and humid, with condensation hanging onto the ceiling.
"Ah, yes, perhaps I should've expected this. Obviously the alloy has to burn extremely hot to get all its elements to work together, which must've triggered the plytchblend's defence. When it gets too hot, it's designed to decay into a type of ash, which would snuff out a fire.
"Except, in this case there was no fire to extinguish. No worries though, doubtlessly they will regenerate to full strength again swiftly. Given how hot these alloys can sometimes become, I wouldn't be surprised if this burn radius was even larger just a few days ago."
"So, does that mean it's ready if it has started cooling down?" Harry asked, shifting closer to the ashen circle.
"In a way. If needed, you could dip this within the water to settle it, making it perfectly usable. However, the longer you let it sit in this magically saturated state, the more innate power the magic will have. In its current form, any magic it absorbs will increase its… I guess you might say core.
"It will quench itself after some time, often by the time it has entered diminishing returns. It is up to you of course, but given you won't be able to do anything with the blade until you have your mithril back anyway… leaving it here won't hurt, no?"
"So, we just leave it be?"
"Almost, first we must erect a small ward over the blade, to provide a more active saturation. You'll need to draw a perimeter ward, something self sustaining, passive and strong."
Waiting for a moment, in case Nicholas had anything else to add, before withdrawing his enchanted chalk pouch. Running his fingers over the compartments, he retrieved the red chalk.
"Red for energy and strength, might help the ward in its purpose." Harry explained to Nicholas, who nodded for him to continue, "I'm thinking some type of fire prevention ward would be best, seeing as they are strong and permeating."
"A good choice. I prefer a dimming ward myself, but then I don't have such an excellent secret chamber. All it needs to do is pull more of the atmospheric magic within range of the blade, there's nothing more we could do.
"There's a chance the metals wouldn't have bonded at this stage, which you'd see from a lack of unified colour. You'd fix that by pumping more of your magic into the metal until it starts to glow anew.
"Now, do you want to talk to me about what you are feeling about the 27th?"
"When I was attacked by someone we still have no idea about? When it was proven that without my mithril I am completely and utterly helpless? A failure. Is that what you're talking about?"
"Come now, that's not fair. You've proven that without your mithril you're still stronger than anyone else from the premier European magic schools. You've proven that you can learn magic less than a dozen people alive can use. What about your ability to make new friends? Do you think that all stands for nothing?
"Yes, you were beaten. I won't tell you that means nothing, but it is not our abilities that define us, it is our choices. There is a man alive in St. Mungos, who without you would've been dead. I am not strong, even now you could probably win in a fight between us, but would you call me a failure for that?"
"What, I couldn't beat you! I wouldn't even know where to start." Harry exclaimed, pointing at Nicholas angrily.
"Me, a foolish old philosopher? No Harry, though my magic is vast, I am not a fighter like yourself. There is a reason me and Perenelle chose to hide, to lurk in shadows and secrecy. I admit, my knowledge of all magic is unmatched, but when it comes to using that magic, I am merely average.
"So yes, there will likely always be at least someone out there who can beat you, you wouldn't be human if there wasn't. What is important is how we deal with that defeat. You can decide to grow bitter and angry, choose to grow strong, grow past it. Or you can settle with where you are at now, accept your lot in life."
"I'll grow stronger, as I always have… but it's just frustrating, to see all my progress be seemingly for nothing. It was awful, laying on the ground and not even feeling my magic."
"I know, I'm not saying you should look back on it with sunshine and rainbows. Just… talk to Mr. Krum about it, perhaps. He lost just as much as you did, hopefully together you two can come up with something."
Heeding his mentor's advice, Harry wandered down to the Durmstrang ship, hoping Krum also had a free period. To his relief, the older teenager seemed to be doing steady laps around the lake. Deciding to join in, he pushed himself to catch up with the Bulgarian, before matching his speed.
Krum gave an affirming nod of greeting, but kept his pace. After jogging for several minutes, Krum eventually slowed down before coming to a stop under the shade of a large beech tree.
"I assume you want to talk?" Krum asked, breathing deeply.
"Yeah, I wanted to know how you felt on Saturday during the attack… I'm not used to losing that badly." Harry admittedly awkwardly.
"I understand. First, understand that from defeat comes victory. How can you hope to do your all, if you do not know taste of failure? I lost many times in Quidditch, but now every time I fly, I know how it feels to lose, so try even harder to avoid feeling." Krum explained easily, laying back against the tree trunk.
"Use this to learn how you are weak, so that you may grow. From our duel I know I must work on speed and my type of attacks. From that, I learn istos keravnon spell. From Saturday, I learn my new spell has limits. But that okay, I now work on new poison spell."
Nodding in understanding, Harry let out a shallow breath before asking "Do you think you could teach me that lightning web spell? I haven't heard anything like it before."
"Certainly! Spell came from Durmstrang library, Greek in origin." Krum confided, going over the wand movements slowly for Harry.
"Any chance I can join in?" Cedric called, strolling over to them.
Reaching out to grasp Cedric's arm in welcome, Krum eagerly added him to their lesson. "I do not think lightning spell would work well for you, but I could give duelling spells."
"That's fair enough. Anything you'd want to know in return? I saw your self-transfiguration, so I don't think I'll be able to help there, but I'm good with charms."
"What about golems?" Harry asked excitedly, eager to know how to do it himself.
"Golems ey? That's not a casual spell to teach. I'll do it, but only if you agree not to use it on my during the Third task, you're scary enough without a near immortal self-regenerating golem." Cedric joked, "But how about that golden bolt spell you used against Fluer?"
With a round of grins, the three set about teaching the others about their requested spell, finding they all had a passion for magic in common.
"So, what people often do by mistake with a golem is to imagine the body as earth, or water or whatever. The problem with this is, your magic will try to build it all at once, which makes it incredibly weak. Instead, you just want a vague sort of outline, while focusing on the core.
"You need to let the core build its own body, otherwise the body is linked to you, not its own core. At worst, it means the golem can't move at all, because your own magic is fighting the core's intent. You will need to tell your golem what it should build itself out of, since different elements rarely mix.
"My dad said he once fought a water-earth golem, which was effective right until the water started boiling and splitting the earth. You'll understand when you try to form one, it's like you become aware of it, like how you know about your hands. Here, try to make one in the lake."
Within divination, they'd almost finished planetary divination, which mostly involved letting Trelawney talk them through it. He found this particular topic difficult to follow, seeing as his magesight hardly expanded all the way into space.
Sitting back into his plush chair, Harry let his eyes rest on the merrily burning fire, breathing in the incense smoke. Slowly, like a light's after image, the vague image of a maze and a severed hand floated before him. Calmly regarding the images his brain had cooked up, Harry considered what they could mean.
Typically, a severed hand could be a sign of punishment, or betrayal. It was his wand hand, which gave more credence to the latter. Wizards were understandably cautious about removing wand hands as punishment, especially when they knew it could be them on the other side.
Before his relaxed magic could show him anymore about this, he was carried away into Riddle Manor. There was no Tom, and from the dilapidated look, it was the present day.
The decrepit form of Voldemort sat within his customary chair, while a sobbing man crouched in the corner, watched carefully by Voldemort's snake. Kneeling between Voldemort and the fire was a new figure, one who was hidden entirely by his silhouette.
All Harry could see of him was his messy hair and worn dragon-skin long coat. Having Tonks' commitment to cool coats rubbing off on him, Harry started comparing it to his own trench coat. While at the top the two were similar in design, Voldemort's follower had a far longer length, while looking quite baggy on the figure.
From the way it caught and held the firelight, it was clearly made of dragon-skin, nothing else having such a bright glister. From the dark material and small armoured scales, Harry could only guess it was from a Hebridean Black, indicating a severe price tag.
"I failed, my Master." The man apologised gravely. Instantly, Harry recognised his cultured tone from the Yule ball, when Tom had shown him another vision. Harry thought it sounded vaguely familiar, as if he'd heard someone similar. Unfortunately, all he could think of was the ministry, which hardly narrowed it down.
"Explain." Voldemort hissed imperiously, anger clear in his voice.
"My father, he knew the champions would be meeting that day, knew exactly where to go. Then my potion ran out right as I found him, buying him time to escape as I sorted myself out. When I caught up to him again, Potter and the Krum boy had run into him.
"I had hoped one of them might leave, knowing you didn't want me to touch Potter. Unfortunately, apparently he'd sensed I was there, so I had to act fast. I was able to strike Krum with a near harmless spell, but Potter tried to fight back.
"I had to use my family spell on my father, which will lock his mind away. But, Dumbledore arrived before I could finish the job, whereupon I was forced to flee. I do not believe our secrets are at risk, if they couldn't heal the Longbottom's by now, then I see no reason for my father to be healed either."
"Rise, my most faithful. Let it not be said that Lord Voldemort is unkind. Return to your station, know your lord is disappointed in your failure, but no more. You need not have been put upon in such a situation if Wormtail had done his job." With a hiss, the dark red flash of the cruciatus struck the man in the corner, sending near deafening cries throughout the manor.
"My lord is most merciful." The faithful servant replied, backing away before apparting away.
"Now, Wormtail, perhaps a reminder about why one does not fail their duty to their lord? All our planning, all our work, almost ruined because you could not watch one simple wizard! Crucio!"
The screaming returned, but this time it seemed to dig so much deeper into Harry. He could feel his throat burning, scar burning brightly. For the briefest of moments, Voldemort's eyes snapped over towards him, before he was flung back.
Eyes snapping open, he looked up into Daphne's terrified teary face, the ceiling swimming above her. It took him a moment to realise he was laying in the remains of Ron's table, which had been behind him and Neville.
"Harry! Are you okay?" Daphne begged desperately, giving him a small shake. The shake revealed to Harry he'd hurt his back landing on the table, making his gasp in new pain.
"Of course he isn't!" Professor Trelawney declared excitedly, looming over him. "What was it, Potter? A premonition? An Apparition?"
"Apparition, something to do with the third task." Harry mumbled out, looking around and expecting to see Voldemort's glowing red eyes in the corners.
"I'm… I'm going to the hospital wing." He decided, carefully getting to his feet, head already feeling better. Even as he opened the trapdoor and started descending, Daphne hurried over, tucking her supplies back into her bag, alongside his own divination book.
"You're not going without me." She announced fiercely, to which he simply shrugged and waited for her.
"So, what was that? And don't tell me that was nothing, I've never heard you scream before, especially not that desperately. It felt like your magic was going to explode, I'm fairly sure some windows were cracked."
"I don't know, some sort of vision I think. I'm going to Dumbledore about it, he'll know."
"Right. Lead the way then."
Things I think needed to explain last chapter:
- Barty Sr: Not dead. I have received at least one review claiming I killed him off, but he's still alive, albeit not well.
- Harry losing: He was fighting the son of an ex-head auror, who took on 2 very qualified aurors (Longbottom's) as a group and won, then solo'd Mad-Eye Moody and won. Honestly, the fact he was fighting alongside Bellatrix (Apparently as an equal) should've been enough of a credential. Harry is not a god here, he is just a very good student, and incredibly strong for his age, but against a skilled adult?
Things I think need explaining:
- Barty Jr: In terms of appearance, he's basically just a straw blond haired David Tennant, because come on, David Tennant. I'm fairly sure my personal taste in overcoats also originated from the film version of Barty Jr and the 10th Doctor, hence Harry commenting on Barty's coat here.