Harry potter and the Time of Retirement
Everything related to Harry Potter belongs to JKR
Chapter 72 – Year 4
"Practice, practice and then practice some more you lazy bums! I might leave the parchment works to the other professors but don't think for a second I will tolerate laziness. I am speaking at you today, Weasley" said professor Moody, glaring at Ron. Poor Ronald didn't do particularly well that class, and his face was proportionately red when the single normal eye of Moody went over him. Longbottom nervously waited for a similar scolding but the professor merely looked at him for a moment before rolling his real eye and moving on.
"So, if you didn't do well today, practice by yourself or with your housemates. Each and all of you, also, will review again the Unforgivables chapter on the book, mix it with the notes you better have taken from my last lecture on them, and practice Accio. Remember, against the Avada Kevadra that is your only hope, until you learn to conjure big items. If you ever do" continued the professor, with a scoff of disdain.
"That's all for today. Get the hell out of my class" he concluded, pointing to the door. As the students started filing out in silence, a couple of the girls looking at him in mild fear, Moody produced once again his creepy smile. "Not you, Potter. Stay behind."
Nonplussed, Harry leaned on a desk and waited. Once everyone else had left – his fellow Hufflepuff sending him several pointed stares on their way out – Moody closed the door and turned around.
"Potter" he started. "Don't worry. I won't start with questions that, I imagine, you would not answer anyway."
At this, Harry nodded. "Appreciated" was his answer.
"I'll leave the matter into Dumbledore's hands. It was clear he is losing his mind in how to deal with you, but that's his problem, not mine" he continued, sitting down again at his desk.
"No, I am here to give some goodwill advertisement for my old job. You are talented, and you know it. Ever thought about becoming an auror?" asked professor Moody.
"Since when being able to duel means being a good fit for them? It's not like they spend their days casting curses and countercurses" countered Harry, intrigued.
"And what is your idea of what we do, Potter?" asked Moody, relaxing on his chair.
"If I had to judge from what I saw during the Quidditch finals" started Harry, a smile spreading on his face at the recent memories of the event "younger recruits play babysitters to both adults and literal babies, while older officers sit down, sip tea and try to ignore the chaos around them."
Moody laughed at this, but it seemed bitter. "Accurate enough, unfortunately" he spoke on eventually. "For most of the time though, not always. Most of the time everything is peaceful, and thanks the heavens for that. But" and here he kicked the desk with his wooden leg "sometimes, more rarely, it is not. And in those moments there is a genuine need for someone with brass balls and enough backbone to lead the rest. You would be surprised how few there are of those, at the ministry."
"I met director Bones" countered Harry, with a roll of his eyes. "Her backbone is so long it grew into two demonic horns out of her head. Metaphorically, I means."
"Oh, yes, she has always been as tough as nails that woman" said Moody, nodding appreciatively. "I was there when she was recruited. Mind you, I was still green too back then."
Harry didn't comment and after a second Moody, eyes glazing as he recalled old memories, spoke on. "Her introduction to all of us was punching her fellow recruit for the year, a Charles something, that had taken her wand to tease her. Broke his nose, even. When reprimanded she quoted the rules from our code of conduct and a couple of precedents from the Wizengamot on how she was fully justified in her reaction. A memorable first impression, believe me."
"And I should try to become one of her underlings? Such a charming idea" said Harry, casually. Moody, almost startled out of his memories, laughed softly.
"Aye, if you put it that way it sounds bad" he said. "But I see in you the same potential, at least if combined with what the old man says. Capable, smart, cynical, you could do well over there. The kind of team leader that can motivate all those that are in just for the paycheck."
"I would most certainly expect my paycheck, too" added Harry, shrugging.
"And you should. I enjoy my pension right now, for sure" said Moody. "But personal interests and adherence to our duties do not need to clash against each other."
"It's all moot anyway. I am just in my 4th year, and I barely know what I will be doing the next one" said Harry, shrugging.
"No, this is the moment to think about it. You can change your electives, or focus more on those you would need for us" said Moody, now bending ahead with folded hands. His expression was full of determination. "I heard about Potions, for example. In particular, how a former fellow professor is supposed to rely on you for some of his… personality problems, let's say."
"That former professor should really not trust Dumbledore so much" added Harry immediately, annoyed. "Not if the old man, as you call him, gives so freely informations that are not his to share."
"Relax, Potter. I was more than aware of the status of Mr. Lupin, all senior aurors are" said Moody, a self-satisfied grin on his face. "The crux is not him, but you being supposedly able to brew Wolfsbane. Can you?"
"Not if you ask Snape, I imagine" countered Harry, bitterly, but Moody just scoffed sarcastically a little more.
"Yes, and that's exactly the point. You might want to skip his classes after the O.W.L., especially if you don't need them. My advice is, don't. You still need the N.E.W.T. parchment to get in" said Moody.
"Studying under Snape only to work under Bones" commented Harry, evenly. "Are you sure this is a promotion of your job? Why would I ever do that?"
"Up to you, son. You can spend the rest of your coming adult life doing good for the community and having some excitement, or you can join our average fat and bald ministry worker in some musty office. Your choice" said Moody, shrugging a bit too casually.
"I have plenty of galleons and a wand, my options are endless. Especially if I am willing to leave England" countered Harry.
"And are you?" asked Moody, immediately, only to smirk at Harry's unconvinced shrug. "Aye, easier said than done. Listen, even those with good credentials have troubles getting in but, provided you don't show yourself a dud, I am willing to put in a good word. Right now, not in 3 years when I could be dead already. Give it to me honestly, then – should I?"
Harry, pausing for a second, considered his options. On one side, planning what he could do once he actually looked over age was not high on his list of priorities. On the other, this didn't require anything out of him. Plus, he liked his job well enough, back then. "It wouldn't hurt me, I guess" he finally muttered. "So, if you are willing to send a word to some old friends, go ahead. Mind you, in three years' time I expect my godfather, Sirius Black, to be my step-in contact if I wanted one."
"Provided he doesn't get fired himself before then, and don't make that face; with what I heard, it's not impossible. Anyway, I will send an owl to Bones herself. We have a good understanding, she will listen to me" concluded Moody, all business now. As Harry remained silent, he smiled.
"I have nothing left to say, lad. I assume you are good enough with Accio already?" he asked, clearly dismissive. Harry merely glanced at his Defense book on the table he was leaning in, and it flied in his hands. "That's what I like to see, Potter" said immediately Moody, with an appreciative nod. "Wands are for refined work, but every wizard should be able to handle his magic so naturally if you ask me. What a lazy bunch most of them are. Anyway, help the other Hufflepuff, that's your real assignment for my class. Get out."
"A pleasure, professor" concluded Harry with a sigh, as he walked out of the classroom.
A few days passed, and Harry was starting to settle down once again at Hogwarts. Thanks to his fellow Hufflepuff, full of good will and eager to help him, it wasn't long before he was assimilated back into their group. They made a point of sharing all relevant gossips and news to him, and to invite him to whatever small groups, for study or fun, that they created in the previous months and years. Harry, while more often than not refusing to join, was still grateful for their genuine friendship and cheered up a little in return.
The rest of the school seemed to remain distant, at least for the time being. Gryffindors, apparently, just didn't want to let mess with the Weasleys two years prior begone and were politely cold with the sole exceptions of the Weasley twins, that kept looking at him as if he was their mortal enemy. That, in Harry's opinion, was a bomb waiting to explode. Meanwhile the Slytherins kept staring at him too, but remaining silent and unexpressive. For the fun of it Harry tried to approach Malfoy and share a couple words after a class, only to be – very politely – told that he had not the time to stop and talk right then. Harry, smiling coldly, let him walk away.
This situation didn't bother him much. His classes were going well with most professors leaving him in peace. Snape included, surprisingly, even though his eyes were full of resentment; Harry was convinced that too wouldn't last, and the potions professor would soon try to test what his new found limits were with new snide comments and more childish annoyances. 'So long as it is only that' concluded Harry, sighing mentally.
The nice surprise had been Hagrid that, during the two classes Harry got out of him, made huge efforts to keep him in the front line as a way to include him and review safety protocols for everyone else. And, since dealing with weird creatures was not something he had experienced daily even in his previous life, Harry vastly enjoyed attending Care of Magical Creatures once again. Plus, Hagrid was a surprisingly good practical professor – the theorical part of the class still lacking, unfortunately.
Nevertheless, before he could even form a proper opinion about his new environment events moved again. One dinner, the headmaster reminded the whole school about a warning given by the school a week before, maybe a day or two in advance of his return: their foreign guests were about to arrive. And so it was that, the following afternoon, classes ended early and all students found themselves assembling in front of the castle.
The air was full of excitement and whispers – everyone wondering how their guests would arrive. That is, for the first 10 minutes. After that, they started whispering only when they would arrive.
"It's cold" complained Wayne, before casting a warming charm on himself. A couple of the other Hufflepuff copied him, while the others decided to forcefully ignore the bad weather.
"How do you even move a large group across countries, anyway?" asked Justin, casually, to Zack of all people. Or maybe that had become more common than Harry remembered and the two had fought so much they were used to talk to each other now, because the other boy just shrug and answered with just a touch of sarcasm "No idea. A plane?".
"I would say Portkey, normally, but not if there are too many people" said Ernie, with Hannah butting in immediately. "They must have baggages, too. You can't drag too much stuff with you on a portkey, your arm would get torn off. Susan, do you know anything?"
"Nothing" said Susan. "My aunt didn't share those details with me. Apparently the other two schools dealt with the problem by themselves, with no need for the help of the aurors."
"Maybe they can apparate here?" suggested Hannah.
"You can't apparate in Hogwarts. It's written in Hogwarts, a history. Haven't you read that?" said Megan in a grossly distorted voice, as the girls around her showed an amused smile. It took a second for Harry to understand she was mimicking someone, and a second more to recall how that was, in school, one of Hermione's favorite phrases.
"I just hope they can speak English" whispered Sally in Harry's ear. "I mean, we can't spend a year just smiling to each other, right?"
"I am confident they picked mostly the students that can" answered Harry, still frowning from Megan's quip. "Either that, or they got some crash course."
"How do you think they are coming, Harry? Group travel was never explained in class" asked again Sally, staying close to him.
"It's not common" said Harry, shrugging. "Considering how they do need baggages, like Hannah said, I think they'll use some kind of big cart or even a house here by magic."
"Can you even do that?" asked Justin, that was nearby.
"Yes, sure" confirmed Harry. "It's just a scaled up version of what most families did during the finals of the World Tournament. Zach, how did your dad carry all your stuff at the campsite?"
"Oh, that was a pain Potter" said Zach. "He has a friend that still owns an old flying carpet, and he wanted to borrow that, but got told that they are forbidden now and there was no way the security at the stadium would let it fly, pun intended of course" added Zach with a smirk. "So, he used the Knight Bus. My mother and I just apparated there."
"I guess a huge enchanted bus loaded with students would work, too" said Ernie. "Provided they have a way to cross the channel."
"I heard about the Knight Bus" said Sally. "They say the driver is a maniac!"
"Really? Sounds fun, I should try it" commented Justin, casually.
"Dumbledore just spoke, guys" butted in Ernie. "I think they are arriving."
"'bout time" complained Wayne.
Soon, they were all in awe at the arrival of the huge carriage from Beauxbatons – that, and its elephant-sized horses. "Think of all the dung they must create" whispered Justin, almost giggling at his own joke. While the other boys showed a smirk the girls just scoffed, disgusted.
"That is one laaarge woman" said Megan, when madame Maxime appeared on the door of the carriage.
"Still pretty, though" added Sally, giving the French principal a checkover. And, indeed, she was covered in fancy clothes and jewels. 'Face ain't terrible either' thought Harry before giving a look at the students appearing behind her, the face of Fleur Delacour clearly noticeable between the others. 'She still can't beat her charges, but not bad. Good luck this time around, Hagrid.'
After a bit of back and forth with Dumbledore, the French students left for the castle. Some of the younger students had started following them only for McGonagall, that was heading the group, shushing them back.
"It's Durmstrang's time now" said Wayne, impatiently.
"Chill out, mate" said Ernie, before taking out his wand. "Need another warming charm?"
"They are just using us as background, Ernie" complained Wayne, irritated.
"Come on, watching that carriage arrive was impressive enough" said Susan.
"I like Beauxbaton's uniforms" added Sally. "Very refined."
"On the girls it looked great" said Hannah. "There was a blonde one, especially, that looks really pretty."
"Oh, yes!" answered Sally. "She was tall, too. I wonder what's her name?"
"The guys looked a lot more… ambiguous, if you know what I mean" commented Zach, sarcastically. "They are French" said Ernie, with a cold smile.
"I think the Malfoys have french origins, too" added Harry, almost casually. The boys shared a look of understanding.
"Do they? I am not surprised. Malfoy certainly feels a bit" starte Justin, more openly, before being interrupted.
"Please stop, guys. You are so rude" complained Hannah.
"Rude what? We were talking about fashion, nothing more" said Ernie, while the other boys sniggered a little. Even Harry rolled his eyes, amused.
Before some bickering could start, though, shouts of wonder interrupted them. Bubbles and waves were forming on the lake and, soon, the huge ship of Durmstrang emerged from the waters.
"Now, this is something noteworthy" commented Harry, impressed. "I can't even imagine the spells or ritual needed to apparate a whole ship from their lake to ours."
"Less horse maintenance, too" added Justin, as the principal and the students from Durmstrang were being welcomed by Dumbledore.
"That is one uniform I wouldn't mind" said Ernie, whistling softly. "Even better than ours."
"It ain't half bad" confirmed Wayne with a nod. "Who is that student? The one being introduced to Dumbledore."
"It's Krum" answered Susan, excited. "The Champion of Bulgary!"
"Champion? They lost" butted in Zach, a sneer on his face. Susan glared back, but said nothing.
"I wouldn't mind his autograph" said Justin in the meantime, making all the other boys snigger. "Always you, mate" said Ernie, friendly pushing him away.
"I wouldn't either" said Megan, puzzled. Ernie seemed about to speak more, but Harry stepped in.
"Nevermind" he said, tiredly. "Seems like we are all going back to the castle. Let's move on."
Following their principal and the guests, the large group of Hogwarts students walked all the way into the Great Hall.
On the way, Harry noticed how the Beauxbatons students were now sittinhg down at Ravenclaw's table while the guest from Durmstrang, after a bit of hesitation, were welcomed by the 4th year's Slytherins at their section of their table. Harry turned his head just in time to notice a huge look of disappointment over Ron's face. With a smile, he sat down next to his class mates.
The rest of the feast went on pretty much as Harry remembered from his time. Speeches, foreign food, more speeches. Of the three, only the food drew his attention. He recognized the French dishes this time around, and was way more willing to try eastern European cuisine, too. So, while his classmates mostly focused on the new faces sitting down next to Dumbledore, or the foreign guests, Harry made a point of trying all of the foreign dishes. "Hungry much?" quipped Justin at one point, as Harry simply shrugged in denial. Still, his now bulging stomach proved he might have gone a little overboard. 'Good thing it's not visible under my robe' thought Harry.
Finally, the time came when all the dishes were empty and Dumbledore had restarted his speeches. Harry's eyes, though, were focused on one thing only: the casket from which the headmaster, with great care, extracted a roughly carved wooden cup, unremarkable if it wasn't for the blue flames coming out of it.
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," had started Dumbledore in the mean time. Harry, once again, paid little attention to him being too focused on the Goblet and his own memories.
He had always been suspicious of what happened back then. At the time he had been told that his name coming out of the Goblet all but forced him into a magical contract, and dutifully he had swallowed that and played along. In truth, the chance of gaining glory and galleons (at this thought Harry sniggered – back then he wanted mostly the glory, now he would gladly choose the gold. What that revealed about him?) made him more than happy to participate, with or without a binding magical contract. As an adult, though, questions came forth immediately.
If his name had been added by someone else, like Crouch Jr. insinuated in his past, was that binding anyway? What were the penalties had he refused to participate? What if he did show up to the trials only to remain safely on the sidelines doing nothing? What were the details of the contract anyway?
So many questions, zero answers. With an irritated glare at the Goblet first, and the headmaster later, Harry promised himself that he would happily insist on each and every one of them should his name being puked out again by that damn paper cup.
'To be honest, a thousand galleons is still tempting' he admitted to himself, as the headmaster was still dribbling on age lines and dangers from the contests. 'The whole thing is a huge pain the butt, but one thousand galleons…' he concluded, smiling greedily. Victory would also be all but guaranteed, for him.
With a final, chilly stare at the Goblet Harry followed the rest of his classmates that, at the end of Dumbledore's warnings, had stood up and were now leaving for Hufflepuff's common room.
"An age line…" started Justin. "Any idea on how to pass over it?"
"An aging potion, I imagine" said Susan. "Problem is, if I can imagine it Dumbledore could, too."
"Yes, he seemed serious about his warnings. I doubt any normal potion would trick his charm" added Hannah.
"Please use your brain, guys" said Wayne. "He didn't say we have to drop the paper personally, right? Just have an older year to drop it for you."
"Well, duh" added Ernie. "Provided you can find one willing to do it. Something tells me some serious detention is planned for anyone who does."
"What about throwing it from outside the line? You roll the paper and throw it. If it falls outside, you get it back with Accio and try again. Eventually you would score!" added Megan. Her idea drew out from the group other proposals, one more ridiculous than the other.
"I can get my owl to drop it from the top!" suggested Ernie, while Sally's opinion was that "I could make a paperplane and fly it inside." Justin's idea, taken – so he said – from a muggle movie was to hang a rope from the ceiling of the Great Hall and drop down on the goblet "like a spy". Zach, unsurprisingly, picked up from that to state that any broom could do the same, only better. Maybe while doing a death loop, just because wizards were better too.
Harry, amused, offered the option to Accio the Goblet itself. It was probably possible, and once out of the age line, no problems right? His suggestion didn't win the contest of entertainment, though.
It was still a great time for all reinforced by the various proclamations, inside their common room, made by the older students willing to participate in the tournament. Most of them swore to become the champion, win the contest and finally – finally! – bring some long-deserved prestige to the house of Hufflepuff.
Sneakily, Harry glanced at Cedric Diggory. He was not among the guys loudly declaring their intention to participate but his face was clearly full of confidence. 'Good luck, kid' thought Harry, much later, as they all went into bed.
