We are the champions

18th of August 1994 - Dartmoor

"Hello mate, booked a three-day spot under 'Black' the other day?" asked the man on the classic sidecar Triumph which stopped in front of the reception office.

The man at the reception window looked at something on his desk. "Right you are, guv. A parking spot with electricity hookup, near the stream and the showers," he updated. "Take this path to the right and look for parking 12B."

"Cheers!" The cyclist called and waited for the gate to rise.

"You can't normally pull a caravan with a motorbike," the lad in the sidecar hissed in the cyclist's direction. "And what's the issue with this ridiculous moustache?"

The man was clearly quite chuffed with himself and didn't mind it much. "I've seen motorbikers dressed this way in films," he stated. "There was one in this song video, Y-something…"

"Right!" Harry agreed. "In the seventies," he deadpanned.

His sarcasm was lost on his godfather who just nodded happily. He was startled, though, when a man in plus-fours and an Hawaiian-shirt appeared out of thin air next to the proprietor with a small crack.

"Obliviate!" the man said sharply, pointing his wand at the reception man. Instantly, the proprietor's eyes slid out of focus and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face.

"We've been Obliviating Mr Roberts all day long," the wizard complained. "We explicitly instructed visitors to keep to Muggle-safe equipment!" he reprimanded Sirius sternly.

Harry turned his impassive stare to the wizard. "This is actually a common way for muggles to go camping," he stated levelly.

The wizard now looked flustered. "Is it really?" he asked in surprise.

"It's called a 'camper-van' for a reason, mate," Harry answered.

"Well, carry on," the wizard instructed them and pointed at the now-opened gate.

Soon enough, they were at their designated parking spot.

"Are we there yet?" came a call from inside the caravan.

Harry went and opened the door. "Just parked," he updated.

"Splendid!" Hermione's father answered. It was a long half a day on the road, even if the four-bed flat, inside the van, was spacious and quite comfortable.

"Telly doesn't work," Hermione's mum explained her husband's frustration.

This was something which they all knew in advance. Legends of days-long matches aside - this was all for a couple of days only. Still, the Grangers were interested in watching the game. Witnessing wizards and witches in their common habitat was an added benefit. 'Anthropology' you might call it. Sadly, it all clashed with the release of a new Dr Who episode - thank Merlin for pre-programmed NICAM video recordings.

Naturally, they had to come in disguise. Emma was wearing her best Daphne du Maurier costume. She did her best to look like an 18th century innkeeper. Meanwhile, Dan chose to do his Arthur Dent imitation and happily wore a bathrobe over his cushy pyjamas. They were shocked to discover just how well they fit with the crowds this way.

"That's a true event," Emma remarked, looking at the city of tents that stretched in every direction.

"It's a tad exaggerated," Dan commented, looking at one of the peacocks gallivanting in front of a white silk palace. "Impressive, but couldn't they magic themselves something more comfortable than tents?"

"Spoken like someone who has never been inside our own caravan," Hermione deadpanned.

"Don't judge a book by its cover!" Emma said in a sage tone of voice.

"Right!" Sirius got excited about it. "The Blacks have a Harem tent stored somewhere. Someone once brought it in from Constantinople. It can sleep a hundred wives and the needed servants and eunuchs," he said. "These sods will never beat that!"

"I'll take the first wife quarters, thank you," Emma agreed hotly. For a moment, Sirius looked as if he was pondering Apparating back to London to retrieve it.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Lets visit the fairgrounds?" she offered.

They kept snaking their way between the tents, letting Hermione's parents stare in amazement, surprise, and some incredulity at all the magic around them. This was much more realistic than the show places like Diagon-alley were putting forth. Soon they were starting to meet friends on their way.

Sirius was stopped from time to time. A few were friends from back then. Others were distant affiliates of the once-large-and-influential Black family, he was now the head of. Many others wanted something from the infamous Lord Black. Sirius had no choice but to play this game much to Harry's amusement.

"Harry! Hermione!" a voice called, just as the city of tents changed into a meadow of green. Every tent in this area was shamrock-covered.

"Seamus!" Harry replied with the same enthusiasm. "How tricks?"

"Like the decorations?" Seamus asked, grinning.

A moment later, Dean pushed his head out through the tent's flap and smirked. "The Ministry's ain't too happy," he commented.

On the hill across from them and the shamrock-covered tent-city all the tents only had a single common decoration. A poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. 'Krum!' the posters announced.

"Don't they have a whole team?" Emma asked, a little surprised.

"Quidditch is fun to watch and play," Harry explained, and Sirius nodded happily in full agreement. "But it's a tad daft as a sport," Harry went on and Sirius frowned.

"Hey!" someone from a Bulgarian tent complained loudly.

"The whole team plays and has oodles of fun, till the better seeker wins it," Harry concluded. The Bulgarian fan found himself in agreement, much to his astonishment.

"Is he any good?" Dan asked, pointing at one of the posters.

"The best!" the Bulgarian enthused.

"Good enough to win Bulgaria's way to the finals," Hermione shrugged. Not that she knew anything about him.

"What's up there?" Emma then asked, pointing at the group of distinctive tents on top of Krum-hill.

"That's the Bulgarian team mascots," the Bulgarian fan updated them proudly. "Better not go…" and he drifted off in the middle of the sentence.

A young woman walked by, dressed in a tight, silvery, short short dress.

"Pretty woman!" Hermione said in appreciation.

"Walking down the hill!" Harry certainly agreed with her assessment.

"The kind I like to meet!" Hermione added. Her face soon turned beet red. "What, it's the song?!" she complained loudly.

Her mother snorted, rather innkeeper-ish-like. "She's on the cheer-team?" Emma then asked, but when she looked around, Sirius, Dan, and the friendly Bulgarian fan were now all wearing rather stupid smiles on and were starting on their way towards the hill.

"Mates!" Harry called out loud. It was enough to shake both Sirius and the Bulgarian from their thrall, although Sirius had to reach out and grab Dan to stop him from going.

"Veela!" Sirius announced with clear excitement. Couldn't even dream about them all these years."

"Aren't they mythical?"

"No more than Krakens, mate," Sirius answered, slapping Dan's back amicably. "Need to keep your eyes open when going places."

It was dusk already when the game started. It was all a tad ridiculous, honestly. Placing the stadium on the other side of the woods, some half an hour walk from the tent-city, was a peculiar choice. These gold plating for a place which was a temporary structure after-all - a tad wasteful. And the height? They were very thankful for the luxury box, which lowered itself to accommodate them. The poor sods in the stands just below them were out of breath and drenched in sweat by the time they walked through the forest and climbed all the stairs - Wizards were not known for their regular workouts.

The pitch itself was huge. Three times and more the size of Wembley stadium. They couldn't even see the people in the stands across from them, never-mind the short sides.

"This is bad for the Bulgarians," Harry remarked softly. "Krum will have a hard time covering all this space to find the Snitch quickly."

"This is bad for the spectators," Dan kinda agreed. "I'm now happy for these binoculars you made us buy," he told Sirius.

"And look at this thing," Emma complained, holding up the velvet covered, tasselled program. "It's a sports event. Not the blooming Royal Opera House?"

It was soon time for the mascot's shows. "Legends are oftentimes true," Sirius explained after those ended.

"So these are stolen?" Dan asked, showing the few large Leprechaun-gold-coins he collected.

"Knockoffs," Sirius answered.

Dan still kept them - it would make for a nice souvenir, he reckoned. He was sadly about to be disappointed.

The game itself was an exercise in dichotomy. Green-team were making best use of all this space offered to them to fly circles around the red-dressed one, having a field day at the hoops. Meanwhile, Krum was doing his best to cover the ground and find the Snitch. Trying to rid himself of the pesky green-dressed player who was following him around as well.

"Having a hard time finding this Snitch," Harry commented with a shrug.

"Are you flying this way too?" Emma asked. She was a little shocked when Krum dove straight down from far above the stadium where he was hovering just a split of a second earlier.

Harry chuckled. "These guys are pros. Can probably fly circles round us school children."

"Like when you drove both Malfoy and the rogue Bludger into his father?" Hermione smirked.

Harry snorted. "Malfoy's a twit, luv," he said. "Anyone could do that to him. These girls are much better. Actually, it's not that hard for the Seeker to feint," he went on explaining."

"It isn't?" Sirius found himself interested in the commentary.

Harry shrugged once more. "You dive on something and the other chap has no choice but to follow. Unless he actually saw the Snitch himself, that is," he explained - pointing his hand somewhere at the lower short-side on the right. "Then he needs to focus on finding this Snitch he might have missed and can't focus on the other seeker, or the stands, or the ground."

Ireland was pulling ahead all this time. Their front line was already eighty points ahead. The Bulgarian Beaters were turning brutal, but the two of them just couldn't cover all the space in front of the hoops. Neither could their Keeper. Krum was getting desperate. He dove towards the ground once more.

"Feint," Harry remarked derisively, pointing at some spot a little above the Commentator's box.

It was a good feint, though, and the Irish seeker found himself hitting the ground with some force.

"It's called a Wronski Feint," Sirius explained.

A medical time-out was called, which was what Krum was after most likely. He used the time, when the green Chasers weren't able to score even more on Bulgaria, and the green Seeker couldn't follow him around, to look for the Snitch undisturbed.

"Did you ever lose sight of the Snitch?" Hermione asked her friend.

Harry shook his head. "Only to taunt Malfoy, or that time when I needed to stall," he answered. "Then, I can let it go for a short while, as long as the other Seeker is too occupied to find it himself." He was pointing at a spot, a little below and to the left of their box, to make his point. Krum just passed in front of them, glimpsed at the direction Harry was pointing at, and looked properly surprised.

Stall-n'-disrupt was probably the red's plan of the moment. As soon as the game resumed the two red Beaters blatantly fouled one of the Irish Chasers. In what looked like a coordinated effort, the Bulgarian team mascots, well - 'attacked' is the most accurate word for it.

They didn't look so beautiful anymore. Their faces grew sharp and avian-looking. Pterodactyl avian like. 'Sharp' was an accurate description of the claws they now had as well - At the end of their scaly wings which were bursting from their shoulders, and at their fingertips. To top it all nicely, they were lobbing off fire-balls too.

"And this," Sirius explained sagely, yet with a clear glint in his eyes, "is the reason why you never judge a magical being on looks alone."

Harry looked at them thoughtfully. This form of them was familiar to him. Familiar as hell…

All this, well - firepower was targeted at the referee of all people. It earned the Irish team a technical and two free shots of which they managed to score one. Frankly, it was probably less than they would have scored had the game went on forward uninterrupted. The whole Irish team was momentarily in a disarray too, which was probably the point of this argy-bargy.

"It's getting ugly," Emma remarked drily.

"Much worse than even a Gryffindor vs Slytherin, back at school," Hermione agreed, and Sirius nodded to that.

"Time enough that someone will finally get the Snitch," Harry commented. He pointed at it, somewhere in the general direction of the referee.

And Krum shot off in that direction. The green-dressed Seeker didn't even follow. This came utterly out of the blue. Krum wasn't even looking that way before heading there. He was looking at the pretty girl at the top luxury box…

And was this the Boy-Who-Lived?

By the time Lynch got his wits about him and shot after the Bulgarian Seeker, Krum already made his pass, right by the ear of the shocked referee, and the red fireworks went off all round the stadium.

"And Krum gets the Snitch at the nick of time! Bulgaria wins 230 to 220, in an hour and twenty-seven minutes. This is the closest score since the final of 1746 between Gaul and the…"

It was almost an hour later when their group left the stadium and headed back to the caravan. About a fifth of the crowd was giddy with excitement. About half was silent as a grave.

Harry was thoughtful when he reached the bottom of the hill and looked at the entrance to the conclave at the top. The Grangers weren't thrilled about him and Hermione going, but Sirius was of the lax kind of guardian and Hermione was of the responsible sort. Not that Harry ever listened to Sirius' instructions.

Not that Sirius ever tried to give any.

"Wouldn't it be better to visit in the morning," Hermione asked hesitantly. She was also a tad red in the face. Throughout the red tent-city a party was going on. Here, at the top of the hill, the party turned truly wild. Glimpses they got through the gaps in the boundary showed that clothing was very much optional in there. The sounds that escaped made clear what kind of a do was going on.

"Aren't you a little young to come here?" asked a rather amused woman who stood at the entrance. She was still dressed in her silvery dress. It probably made her even more alluring than she would have been in the altogether. She was stealing glances inside from time to time, indubitably miffed about being sent to stand at the door. "Although you, little human, might just be scrumptious enough to be let in," she told Hermione with a smile. She touched Hermione's chin with a delicate finger and lifted her face up tenderly. Hermione blushed again.

"Truly scrumptious!" Harry smirked. He then looked sombre again. "We've seen you turn," he said, and the woman frowned. "It felt familiar," he added hesitantly, before she could comment in any way. On the palm of his hand, he showed her one of his knives.

"Wait here," she not quite ordered them both and disappeared inside.

Hermione finally stole a glance at Harry's direction to find him smirking. "Put a sock in it!" she grumbled.

Harry coughed something, which ever-so-slightly sounded like 'scrumptious', and she was now blushing even more.

It was quite a while before the woman came back and waved them in. They were ushered, not too patiently, into an expensively decorated tent. A woman stood there pouring herself a drink at the bar.

She then went on to lounge in a comfortable-looking throne of pillows, took a sip, frowned, then looked at Harry. "Show me," she told him in a surprisingly kind tone.

There was something about this woman. She was undeniably ravishing in every way. She obviously waved off the optional clothes. Didn't show any indication of changing her mind regarding too. She carried herself with the vitality of a twenty years-old, yet it was her eyes which held Harry captivated. There was knowledge and wisdom there. Ages of.

She somewhat reminded him of what he always imagined Galadriel to be like. He showed her one of his knives.

"This is one of our oldest sister's," she remarked levelly, and took another sip of her glass. "Something to drink?"

Harry blinked in surprise.

"Still too young," the woman sighed.

"Too young for oh-so-many-things!" the younger woman from the gate remarked gleefully. The older woman, clearly some sort of a leader, smirked, took another gulp from her drink, and waved her hand towards her younger companion. The younger woman shrugged and changed, now looking at Hermione in a blatant predatory manner.

Standing right next to a turned Veela, Harry could now see that his knives remarkably resemble the claws at the elbow of her wings.

Does Mazikeen have wings?

"How did you get it?" the older Veela asked softly. Harry couldn't tell whether her tone of voice was menacing or soothing.

"I got it from a friend," he answered, just as softly. Almost in a whisper. He then swished the knife around his finger. Just once - to feel grounded.

"Sister's a friend?" the Veela was surprised to learn. "Aren't you an interesting one," she was now looking at him fondly.

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably under her stare. He was starting to blush a little as well. It wasn't easy not to stare. To take his mind off it, he asked an uncomfortable question -

"You have souls?"

The Veela found herself raising an eyebrow in surprise. The younger Veela was properly surprised too. She didn't have an eyebrow to raise at her state. She did turn her head sharply towards Harry, then morphed back to a human form.

"Even more interesting than I could ever imagine," the older Veela remarked, smiling to herself. "It's our mother," she then answered Harry's non-question. "She was never the best of mothers. Or wives," she added in an afterthought. "But she liked experimenting. We got souls for it and are grateful."

Silence lingered and Harry found himself playing with his knife on instinct. It made the two Veela chuckle.

"Enough serious talk for tonight," the older one finally commented. She glanced out the flap of her tent towards the rave-up still going on outside. "We will be watching you with interest, Harry Potter. Farewell for now."

Soon, Hermione and Harry found themselves ushered back to the entrance of the Veela camp.

"We'll be following you too little dear," their escort said gleefully. "Come visit me in a couple of years?" she now cupped Hermione's cheek tenderly. "Belgrade is lovely in the springtime." She was about to head back and rejoin the festivities, leaving behind a stammering Hermione and an amused yet thoughtful Harry, when she stopped and looked at the city of tents all around the bottom of the hill.

"Wonder what they are celebrating?" she commented at the light show and smoke, visible throughout the fields.

"The game?" Hermione offered, warily.

"The Irish?" Harry asked, incredulously. "With red fireworks? And what is this symbol?!"

It was a strange one. Smokey with a green tint. Shaped like a skull with the snake-shaped tongue wiggling out its mouth.

"Oh my God!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Having his father involved in any way is seldom constructive," Harry remarked softly, but no one seemingly noticed.

26th of October 1994 - Ravenclaw tower

"Are you certain?" Harry asked the odd Ravenclaw girl once more. "It will cause her pain," he added softly. Almost in a whisper. "I did it once," he then went on. "Will not be doing it again."

The girl nodded minutely and for the last hour or so she and her mother were sitting in front of each other and crying. Harry felt intruding. He would have left the classroom, if he only could, but all this kinda required his presence.

Slowly their crying ebbed and turned into hiccups. It was very peculiar for Harry to see a shade of a human hiccup. They were both stealing glances at each other. Plainly there was lot's of guilt to go around.

Guilt, as far as Harry was concerned, was the most destructive of feelings. Desire you can overcome. Hate one can ignore, but guilt? It will lead you to hell. Quite literally.

"I'm so sorry!" both said to each other at the same time. They then looked away and the crying risked resuming.

"I have discovered," Harry remarked softly, "that guilt is the most unconstructive of feelings."

Both woman and girl were now staring at him, which stopped the crying. This was a step forward from his point of view.

"We all make mistakes," he went on. "Ones with consequences we regret. Ones which make us sad."

Both nodded slightly at his words.

"We should be sad. We should regret, so we can learn and not repeat these mistakes. However, it's seldom our place to punish ourselves," he then added almost inaudibly.

"I miss you!" the girl sobbed. This was much more in line with what Harry was expecting from the start.

"I love you so much! You grew into such a lovely girl…"

Harry let himself drift with his wandering thoughts. This year started so strangely. Extensive works were taking place in and around the castle. A large block of the second floor was bricked off. It included Myrtle's toilets and a whole group of classrooms, including Defence.

"Renovations!" stated the Headmistress. "We hope it will be reopened by yule." The strangest thing was that no people were seen doing any work, nor have sounds of work been heard - for as far as the students could notice.

There were signs of work being held at the forest edge. Ministry employees were seen carrying out crates and cages of something out of the forest and onto antique looking lorries. Centaurs were seen there, conversing with the Wizards and Witches working. Even landing a hand from time to time - shock horror!

Another person who couldn't be missed was Hagrid. The kind giant left Hogwarts almost as soon as the late Headmaster was declared deceased. Harry sent him a couple of letters but never received a response or even an acknowledgement.

Harry waved at his friend but wasn't even noticed. Hagrid stood there, at the edge of the forbidden forest, torn between crying, pleading with, and shouting at the people doing the work. Headmistress McGonagall kept standing in his vicinity, making certain he wouldn't go into the woods and certainly not interrupt the people at work. At one stage a Centaur approached him and motioned him to follow. When Hadrid came back out of the forest, not long after, he was only crying. He gave the forest one last long stare, then left without saying a word. Harry sent him another letter but wasn't waiting for the answer with bated breath.

Speaking of Hagrid, the faculty was completely changed too. Snape left Hogwarts and the school was never the same since. Turned out without the old Headmaster having some sort of leverage over the man, and with the new Headmistress insisting on him doing some, well - teaching, the man had had enough.

Defence was transformed as well - The school now had a decent Professor teaching it for two years straight. Also transformed were Divination studies - in the sense that they were not offered any more.

Then there were the Dementors…

"Thank you, Harry Potter, for doing this," he was cut from his wandering thoughts by the woman's voice. He waved it, like calling the departed for a chat is the most usual of things.

"I am proud of you," the woman reassured her daughter once more. "And love you - always!" Harry found himself humming a certain song, in the quiet of his mind

It's all Truly's fault!

The woman then nodded towards Harry, and soon faded to smoke.

"Thank you for doing it, Harry Potter," the girl repeated her mother's words. He nodded mutely, to acknowledge her gratitude. For a while, they walked in silence towards the great hall. It was tea time already. "Is she nice?" Luna suddenly asked. "Death," she clarified. "You must have met her, being her master," she then mumbled.

Harry stopped their walk to have a good look at the quirky girl at his side. She had him worried from the first time he talked with her on the train, a year back. Her soul looked brittle. He hoped this would do her some good, but she was now almost fractured to his eyes.

He put on what he hoped would be a warm smile. Trying his best to channel Her. "Reckon she's a busy person," he answered easily. "Not the easiest being to boss about too," he added.

Luna giggled softly at this and Harry felt lighter.

"Even if Death herself is the kindest of beings, the dead don't likely stay with her for long," Harry went on. "Literature tells about the silver city and hell - controlled by other beings."

For a while - the length of a long corridor, neither said anything.

"Why are you learning so much?" Luna finally asked.

Harry shrugged. "It's a large world out there. Hogwarts prepares us, somewhat," he then added a little bitterly, "for a tiny part of it only. Truly and I want our options open."

"Can I join?"

Harry glanced at the girl's way. "It's all self-study," he replied with the simple truth. "Everyone can - it's just quite a bit of work. There are several subjects you'll have to start from the very beginning. You are at the beginning of your third year, right?"

Luna nodded.

"If we'll get the books for you, you'll start right away, and put a decent effort in it, you're probably looking at another year of studying, after school, to get your A-levels and be ready for university," Harry explained. "You should talk about this with your father."

Luna giggled softly and for the first time since that meeting, sorta, started - he felt better. Lighter. He stole a glance at her direction. She was back to her brittle state, which at this moment - was an improvement. "What's a university?" she asked.

This was getting rather elaborate. "Sit with us for dinner and Truly will help explain things right?" he offered.

They were now walking down the long long staircase, leading all the way from the third-floor main corridor, down to the entrance and the great hall. This staircase would have been fabulous, was it an escalator. Instead, it tended to move sideways. Sometimes, in the most inopportune of moments.

"Why are you calling Hermione Granger - Truly?"

It made him laugh a little. "Truly scrumptious!" he tried to explain. "It's a character in a film."

They were almost at the ground floor when Luna asked another question. "What is a 'film'?"

He chuckled once more. "Be in touch, and we might show you during the holidays," he offered. "It's a large world out there," he then repeated with a shrug.

28th of October 1994 - entrance hall

"Ms Granger, Mr Potter, Hope you are having a fair morning?"

Both friends were a little unsettled when the Hufflepuff ghost appeared in front of them, right out of the staircase, to greet them.

"May your beer flow forever, dear sir," Harry replied with a smile, once their friend, sorta, was recognised.

"And your food always be rotten," Hermione added with a smirk.

The Friar saluted them with his mug and kept floating beside them, while they climbed the stairs.

"I find myself in need of your assistance," he didn't faff about.

"Now?" Harry asked, "Can't it wait for the evening?"

Hermione took out her large pocket watch and looked at it. "We're late!" she stated.

It made Harry laugh. The Friar dismissed it derisively. "Checked your timetable - All you have this morning is a useless History lesson, taught by the wrong ghost.

Hermione had no choice but to concur with this assessment. Still, being late for a lesson was not her way in any shape or form.

"What do you need?" Harry simply asked. His plans for this lesson were to complete an article about Greek-tragedy. It would be no tragedy at all to push it back just a little.

"I have had enough of drinking away my bitterness about this school going to seed and dear Helga's memory languishes. I'm about to use all their visitors to make them notice. Then, they might even listen!"

It brought Harry's wide smile on. Hermione took another glance at her watch and put it back to her pocket, resigned. "How can we help?" she asked.

"Meet me at the seventh floor," the Friar instructed them.

It was quite late at night when they were done with the work.

"What time is it?" Harry asked absentmindedly.

"We'll be late for tomorrow's lessons soon," Hermione mock lamented. In reality she was exhilarated. What they did today will be noticed and remembered.

"This was ambitious," The shade of Slytherin complemented the Friar. "And cunning!"

The Friar chuckled heartily and saluted him with his mug. "Hard work and meticulous planning," he answered

"Are you ready for the repercussions?" Slytherin then asked seriously and the Friar nodded.

"For a few centuries now."

"Why didn't you do this before?" Harry was interested to know.

The Friar looked thoughtful for a moment. Annoyed as well. "It took me a couple of centuries to get over my anger and frustration," he admitted. "Still not completely over it. It's part of the reason I'm still here. By the time I tried, there wasn't a single person within this castle with enough knowledge. Nevermind the right state of mind. Would you let Wizards have a free hand in this room?" He asked the shade of the former Founder. The way he said the word 'wizards' was clearly derisive. Salazar seemed to agree since his shade shuddered visibly.

"Helga is probably proud," Salazar replied softly. The Friar nodded once more and lifted his glass in a show of respect.

"Why don't we call her here?" Harry offered helpfully. Reluctant stares from both ghost and shade was not the reaction he was expecting.

"She isn't dead," the Friar said, not truly explaining his answer.

Hermione was about to say something, but Slytherin cut her short. "What she became - you wouldn't like to roam around here," he stated. "Also, if she ever did, others will notice. Beings aware of your peculiar genetics, Mr Potter. Beings you wouldn't like being aware of your existence."

Harry was about to ask something, but Slytherin stopped him. "You are not ready yet to ask these questions," he told him kindly, yet quite decisively.

"A Unicorn once told me the same thing," Harry remarked conversationally.

"You met with the Unicorn elder?" Salazar asked in surprise. The Friar smiled in approval too.

"In a dream," Harry commented. It didn't change their attitudes any.

"He's long living and wise," was Salazar's response. Clearly Harry was not about to learn more about his personal genetics this evening. "Now, can you please release me? It's getting a wee bit uncomfortable, friend."

"Mates!" Hermione called their attention. "We still need to wrap this all up and test it," she said, motioning around at all the opened control panels.

"My kingdom for a sonic screwdriver," Harry mumbled.

"Elvis will be able to guide you through this," Salazar answered and faded away.

'Elvis?!' Hermione mouthed in surprise.

The Friar smirked.

"Friends," the Friar told them sternly, when the room was wrapped up and they were on their way towards the main stairway. "Sorry to stress this, but please don't tinker in there without supervision?"

Both Hermione and Harry nodded in agreement.

"It is largely malfunctioning and is dangerous," he added softly, mostly to himself. "What's in there can make the whole planet go for a ball of chalk if the wrong button is pressed. More likely, the right button is pressed the wrong way."

Both Harry and Hermione shuddered. They will never think of Hogwarts the same way.

30th of October 1994 - the Great Hall

"Excuse me, are you done with the bouillabaisse?" a melodic voice pulled their attention to the tall Beauxbatons girl standing behind them.

"Vous pouvez en avoir*," Hermione answered politely. As invitingly as she could.

Harry just smiled and nodded towards the girl. The girl smiled back brightly. She then looked at Hermione once more and her smile turned suggestive. Alluring almost.

"Bougez!*" she told Ron, who was sitting on Hermione's other side.

Ron was already purple-faced by her presence alone. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. He then scampered down the table to find a place elsewhere.

"Fleur Delacour," the girl introduces herself. "Grandmother told me to make your acquaintance," she told Harry happily. Her tone of voice now turned warmer. "And cousin Malina told me all about you, dearest," she turned to Hermione with a clear leer. "Aren't you a lovely one!" she added happily.

"H-how is your cousin Malina?" Hermione's voice stuttered a little. She was a tad red in the face too. She was also happy that the Hogwarts dress code wasn't revealing at all. Many others, up and down the Gryffindor table were probably in agreement. A few found themselves moving in their seats uncomfortably.

Harry was amused though. "I believe 'scrumptious' was the word dear Malina used?" he offered.

Hermione blushed even more. Her eyes now promised revenge.

"Yes she did!" Fleur agreed happily and played her fingers through Hermione's hair. "Told me to 'keep you warm' for her," she then told the girl. Hermione's eyes were now looking for his, pleadingly. Rescue, however, came from an unexpected source. Revenge too, so to speak.

"You!" stated a gruff voice from across the table. They all raised their eyes to see Krum standing there, staring at Harry.

"Harry Potter, how do you do?" Harry raised and offered his hand for a shake.

Hermione used the time of respite to shake Fleur's hand off her hair and get herself under some control. "Hermione," she introduced herself.

Krum still looked surprised to meet them there. "You're the guy and the pretty girl who were in the top box in the finals," he stated, not bothered at all by the listening crowd.

"Beautiful!" Fleur corrected him about Hermione.

"Thank you so much!" Krum told Harry, and the Great Hall turned silent. No one around was even pretending not to listen in.

Harry looked at him rather bewildered, still shaking his hand amicably.

"I would have never caught the Snitch in time, had you not pointed it to me!" Krum told him, and hall fell even more silent, still -

"You did what?!" A twin outraged shouts came from up the table.

"Mate!" Seamus complained loudly. "Why would you help them win the cup? It's just ain't cricket!"

It was later in the evening when the group found themselves saying their goodbyes at the Entrance Hall.

"A pleasure," Harry told the guest students, when they parted ways. "We'll be having an early breakfast, then have somewhere to be for most of the day. We can sit together for tea and we'll introduce you around?"

It was received with some excitement. A few nods and handshakes were exchanged.

"Formidable!*" Fleur stated with some glee. "Now, about keeping you warm - your bed or mine?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione made her retreat. "Night!" she said and rushed to the stairs. Pressing a decoration in the shape of a Gryphon, which turned out to be a button, moved the stairs to the main fourth-floor landing. The one leading to the Gryffindor tower. She stepped on the first step and was led up in seconds. There must be some stabilising function to the staircase - they moved too fast for comfort otherwise.

"Truly!" Harry called after her parting back.

His only response was Fleur's ringing laughter.

"Can't believe you two sods actually fixed this without anyone knowing it was broken," a sixth-year Raven prefect remarked exasperatedly. He was passing their group with his friends, on their way to the Ravenclaw tower.

Third Floor - left landing…

Harry schooled his face. "We just followed the Friar's instructions - all credits to him and the engineering ingenuity, which once was the Hufflepuff house," he stated once more, for all to hear.

"Hear, hear!" someone in black and yellow concurred.

Harry never saw the Great Hall of the castle so packed for a Halloween feast. Decorated to such an extent as well. Every student was present. The head-table was extended three folds to accommodate all the visiting dignitaries - local and foreign alike. There was true excitement in the air. The Triwizards tournament, as controversial as it was, was a huge event and was about to get started.

Our friends were guests of the Ravenclaw table this evening. Initially, Harry and Hermione weren't invited, but Fleur refused to sit anywhere except by Hermione's side, and Hermione? Well, she arrived with an Harry attached.

"I saw you in the final," one of the Ravens told Krum. "You were sensational!"

Krum, apparently, was no stranger to praises. He just nodded and accepted it with a show of dignity. Even his trademark frown softened just a touch.

"Right!" a pretty girl up the table agreed. "I'm the Ravenclaw Seeker,"

"And what a great Seeker you are!" Harry smiled.

She pouted in response. "Cho Chang," she went on introducing herself and reached to shake Krum's hand. "I'm decent for a house team," she accepted the compliment with a smile, "but I have never seen someone fly like you did."

"A true champion!" a boy called from the Hufflepuff table.

Cho covered her face in embarrassment. "Cedric, my boyfriend," she explained.

"He's a properly good Seeker as well," Hermione updated the group.

"When Harry here lets anyone play at all," someone remarked with some annoyance.

"Maybe you can offer us a Seeker's master class?" Harry offered. "A 'champion's class," he added, and Hermione slapped him.

"Hey!" Fleur smiled. "You're into S&M? I'm game!" and Hermione found herself trying to distance herself from the French-girl.

Luckily for Hermione, some commotion from the head table pulled everyone's attention there. With a stern look towards the Minister, Headmistress McGonagall raised from her seat and headed to the rostrum. Beside it, on an elaborately decorated pedestal, stood the Goblet of Fire, burning merrily.

Or was it menacingly?

"Ladies, gentlemen, and guests," McGonagall called. She was clearly uncomfortable talking in front of all these people, playing the gracious host. "The Goblet of Fire is about ready to make its choices."

Everyone's' attention was now fully on the Goblet. Some were looking at it with interest. Others were fully focused on the thing. Next to Hermione, Fleur lost her smile and had eyes only for the artefact.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air and a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.

"Victor Krum!" McGonagall announced without fanfare.

"Cheers!" voices called from all around. Victor rose, bowed slightly to the people around, and was ushered to the side-chamber. Around the Hall, other Durmstrang students looked resigned.

"Fleur Delacour!" Called the Headmistress, following another tongue of fire. Fleur regained her smile. She stood up, twirled and curtsied to the audience. She then kissed Hermione's cheek and skipped after Krum.

"Look," Harry whispered to his blushing friend and pointed at the other Beauxbatons students. "They're gutted!"

Everyone, though, was now focused on the Headmistress. Visiting schools were interesting and all, but it was the identity of the Hogwarts champion which was truly of interest.

"Cedric Diggory!"

On its pedestal, the Goblet of Fire, emitted a burst of sparks and extinguished itself.

A shriek of delight pulled everyone's attention to the Ravenclaw table. Cho jumped to her feet and a few steps later she jumped into Cedric's arms and kissed him in celebration.

At the head-table, McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. "Mr Diggory please?", she said, interrupting their celebration.

"See Truly?" Harry whispered to his friend, who was clapping her hands Happily. "Be glad that Fleur didn't think of that, aye?"

Hermione considered hitting her head on the table now. Hard…

vous pouvez en avoir (French) - you can have some.

Bougez (French) - Move!

Formidable (French) - Excellent.

AN:

Well, this chapter see us skip a whole year - as you noticed. There was nothing interesting happening (honestly!) and I wanted them all a tad older. The tone of the story will change accordingly.

As usual - Feel free to review and tell me what you think - It's appreciated!
usually, I answer each and every review, but this system is down and replies to reviews won't even reach your inbox (checked).

So sorry...

Many many thanks to flyboy38 my beta, who invested time and effort to make this readable for you all.

Cheers!