Disclaimer: still not mine.

OUROBOROS

A Harry Potter and Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha crossover


The Morning After (And All That Entails)


Despite the disturbing note given to him about how he and Fleur carried on during the Yule Ball, Harry slept like a log and woke up refreshed, almost as if the events of last night didn't happen at all.

Once he emerged from the small room adjoining the office assigned by Hogwarts for the Witch of Dun Scaith, he looked like he was ready to face the day... until he saw his master seated at the breakfast table, wearing a Mona Lisa smile and gesturing to the Daily Prophet.

Paying it no mind, Harry padded over to the kitchen and fixed himself some breakfast on autopilot, and went over to his spot in the small dining table to see the immortal witch still wearing that enigmatic smile.

He was halfway through his bacon and eggs when he saw the headline. Thankfully, he wasn't eating or drinking anything at the moment, otherwise he would have done a perfect spit take onto the Witch – and that would have meant bad things (like Ansuz practice).

If this was a slapstick cartoon, Harry Potter's jaw would have uncoupled and dropped onto the breakfast table, because on the front page of the Daily Prophet was an animated close-up picture of his face hovering close to Fleur Delacour's chest.

Ouroboros started laughing, but it sounded distant, because of the jackhammer beats of his heart.

He looked back up at Scathach and her smile just widened.

"Read it."


After the most awkward ten minutes where he read about the Triwizard's Yule Ball dance – which was actually a very informative story about what had happened up to that point – had passed, Harry turned to his Master.

"Why would they use that as the front page picture?" Harry asked after reading, pointing towards the caption "Champions of Dun Scaith and Beauxbatons heating up the dance floor".

"Sex sells," Scathach replied, and Harry resisted the urge to gag, making her chuckle. "Ah, right. I did not consider that in all your adventures, you have yet to grow past the 'girls are icky and have cooties' phase."

Harry gave his Master a face as if he had sucked on a lemon – he was only now beginning to notice the fairer sex, but he would be damned if he let a weakness like that slip out, especially from a living legend like Scathach.

"Nevertheless, I am sure the other competitors have gained insight on their golden egg by now," she continued. "Today is a free day, so you might want to take a dip in the pool and make sure your swimming skills haven't randomly vanished."

Harry hung his head.

"As you wish, Master."

The Witch stood up.

"Be of good cheer, my student," she said. "I have no doubt that my presence alone will buoy your spirits while swimming."

More like you're going to feed on the attention of the male students from three schools.

Harry couldn't resist, he mentally chuckled at Tom's ridiculous statement.

"I'm feeling better already," Harry admitted, as the morning meal finished and he went towards his swimming gear. "Anyway, Master, do you think the Yule Ball was a success?"

"More than you think," she said. "You'll see more of it in the coming days."

And true to form, when Harry and the Witch of Dun Scaith showed up at the pool, there was a crowd waiting for them, mostly upper years... and was there a smattering of female students from the other schools, too?


Serendipity


The informal swimming class went along quite well, with the students taking to separate parts of the pool to swim or warm up (magical heating, who knew), and Harry trying desperately to not get overloaded by hormones every time he saw one of the upper-year female students.

After an hour had mercifully passed by, Harry was about to extricate himself from the pool when he heard three voices that instantly put him on alert.

Upon hearing the chatter of the Gryffindor chasers, he ended up kicking the golden egg into the pool in his panic to get to the locker room.

He was in a stall and done hyperventilating when he realized that the golden egg in his swim bag was missing, and panicked even more.

Maybe it's back in the pool?

Harry took a moment to let out a calming breath.

Maybe you're right, Ouroboros. I should check it out.

Several minutes later, and when the course was clear, Harry returned to the pool, dove to where he thought the golden egg was, and marveled as he saw the item had opened, with a choir of what looked like merfolk singing inside it.

Immediately, he grabbed the egg, tucked it in his swim trunks, and made for the surface... only to run into Fleur.

Face, focus on her face, Harry thought, all the while Ouroboros was laughing uproariously in his mind.

"I see you are very happy to see me," Fleur said coquettishly, and Harry groaned as he remembered where he tucked the golden egg.

He just scratched the back of his head and shrugged.

"Still have lots of things to do, even if today's a weekend," Harry quickly said. "Have fun at the pool."

"Of course, Harry. Wouldn't want to keep you from your... business."

Harry was sure his head had been magically replaced with a tomato by the time he returned to the dressing room and put the golden egg back inside his swim bag.

I haven't been entertained this hard since I watched that plebian show your aunt likes... but anyway, I should remind you that water is what activates the golden egg's mechanism.

Tell me about it, Harry replied, when I'm done making a complete prat of myself.

Ouroboros just chuckled.

I took the liberty of taking a picture of Fleur because you were too busy looking at her face. Full body.

I take back everything good I said about you, Harry shot back. You are just as evil as when you weren't an Intelligent Device.

I aim to please, boss, Ouroboros replied after letting out a believable wolf whistle.


Though it was technically supposed to be a free day, Harry took the golden egg to the "apprentice's bathroom", put it under the sink, and turned the water on.

The egg unfolded, and Harry could hear the merfolk singing about "something important".

I don't have anyone or anything important here. Everything I have can either fend for themselves... or are in a different world, Harry told himself.

If that's the case, then ask yourself: what would other people think is important to you? Ouroboros asked, and Harry nodded.

Well, we'll just see what happens, Harry replied.


As an aside, the Daily Prophet published on the 27th of December featured Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts and Claire Rousavall of Beauxbatons in a rather compromising position, turning them into fuel for the gossips for the next few weeks.

Ouroboros – thanks to being an Intelligent Device – knew that nothing happened, of course.

It was merely an unfortunate convergence of coincidences: one, Claire Rousavall was Cedric Diggory's date in the Yule Ball; two, Ms. Rousavall turned out to be quite the lightweight, and Mr. Diggory was a consummate gentleman and helped her back to her quarters in Hogwarts; and three, Ms. Rousavall's habit of sleeping in (almost) the buff and sleepwalking just had to kick in at the most inopportune time, and a lot of jokes about "international cooperation" circulated around Hogwarts during the days leading up to the Second Task.

All of this brouhaha was but a footnote to Harry, though, as his preparations for the second task came first.

It didn't stop his Device from giving him updates on how the scandalous event unfolded, though – even throughout the Christmas holidays, where he found a book containing the biographies of historically famous wizards and witches courtesy of Hermione, a magically-animated poster of "Breakfast at Tiffany's" from Fleur, and a Krav Maga booklet given by the Dursleys.

Realizing that his training had gotten him to forget about sending holiday presents back, Harry's Christmas holiday was all about getting last-minute presents to his friends and family, and was every bit as hectic and stressful as his training sessions with the Witch.


The Second Task


Several weeks of training and studies later, Harry found himself on the shores of the Black Lake, together with the other Triwizard competitors. The task was introduced, to take back "something important" from the merpeople's village within an hour, and return.

Harry was too focused on the task to pick up on what was happening elsewhere, and as he turned to the coaches' are to see a confidently-smiling Scathach, he nodded back, his tension easing a bit as he knew that all the hard work he had done would prepare him sufficiently for this task.

"...and go!" Bagman shouted, signaling the start of the Second Task, and three contestants hit the water at roughly the same time.

Harry waited a few moments before hitting the water himself, and as soon as he did, gave the mental command.

Ouroboros, to infinity.

Barrier Jacket: Amphibious Mode activated.

And in a flash of brilliant green light, Harry was now wearing a skintight variant of his Barrier Jacket, complete with an air supply more than sufficient for the hour allotted for the task.

I can't believe that you, the Admiral, and the witch managed to keep this from me, Harry thought as he grabbed Ouroboros in wand form and began swimming to the objective.

We didn't, Ouroboros said. The Witch asked me if my functions also included underwater or amphibious operations. I said yes, and I immediately asked your Uncle Gil if I could access them. So technically, you're not cheating – people who were in a place to help you just did; nothing more, nothing less.

Still doesn't feel right.

Not as right as when the other schools literally gave their champions the answer to the golden egg. Consider it turnabout and fair play.

Fine, Harry told his Device as they went on their way.

A few minutes of swimming later, Harry gasped as he saw lights in the underwater flora ahead. What the hell... are those grindylows?

A whole swarm of them, boss. They seem to be attacking someone en masse.

And given that the merfolk village is just a ways from here, it means a competitor is in danger, come on!

Ay-yay-yay, Ouroboros interjected. What is it with you and that hero complex of yours?

Do you want to stand idly by when someone dies here... when you could have done something about it?!

All right. Let's not make too big a splash, though.

Harry moved with his Device in unison towards the grindylows, like a torpedo through the water, wand glowing with power he was waiting to unleash.


In the Hunt


Harry Potter (or as he is more known in Hogwarts, Harry Graham) cut through the water, his Barrier Jacket both streamlining his movement and camouflaging him from fish and other creatures within the depths of the lake as he speedily and stealthily edged closer to the horde of grindylows that was his destination.

Holy diver, you've been down to long in the midnight sea...

Oh, what's becoming of me!

Harry's Intelligent Device was playing music as soon as they hit the water, and the chorus hit as they made it closer to the horde of grindylows...

Okay, that's not good. Someone's run into those little bastards.

Based on the magical signature, it's someone we know very well.

Fleur?

Harry moved through the water faster.

Oh, I can think of two very good reasons why you would forego your own goals and help her.

You're not helping right now!

He made it to see her being harangued by what looked like fifty or more of those things – she was casting spells, but Harry felt her magic beginning to weaken, especially underwater.

Tom, does your shot spread slow down underwater?

Only conventional munitions worry about that. Lock and load!

With a grin on Harry's face, he swam up to the group of grindylows in the back, still unseen, and pointed Ouroboros at them.

The resulting shock wave from the blast threw the rest of them off Fleur, and before the rest of the grindylows knew what was up, a barrage of green lights coming from one direction were smashing into them.

I don't give a flying fuck what those things are, if they can bleed, we can kill it! Harry thought. "Phase Bolt: Hail Storm!"

Fleur was still occupied when Harry swam up to her, and her eyes lit up in recognition as she saw his outfit looking similar to the one he wore at the Yule Ball.

He gestured towards the distance, where the merfolk village was, Fleur nodded, and went on her way.

YOU'RE GIVING HER A HEAD START?

WHY?

One, we're underwater, and sound carries differently there than here. Two, it wouldn't look good if Fleur and I made it at the same time to the target location. Three, pretty sure we'll have our hands full when we get there, might as well move cautiously and let the linker core's regeneration kick in, so we have more access to our tricks, should the need arise.

Oh, good. At least I know you're thinking with the right head. I thought you were all "you can finish ahead of me, m'lady" just because it's Fleur.

Do you have anything else worth needling me about?

No, and let the other participants tangle up first before we step in.

Right, that's the actual plan. Come on.


Though they weren't moving fast by their standards, Harry and his Device made it to the merfolk village not too long after the rest of the Triwizard contestants did – in what looked like three separate areas, the participants were each battling an opponent: Fleur was against a merfolk warrior (and holding her own), Cedric was trading spell fire with a merfolk mage, Krum was partially transfigured as a hammerhead shark and pressing the attack against a merfolk brute...

A chittering voice welcomed Harry and Ouroboros into the merfolk's village.

"And the man of the hour arrives," the merfolk chieftain said. "You have the luxury of having to defeat me to claim that which is lost."

Harry's hostage looked unfamiliar; the fact that the tie blended in with the water meant the girl was either from Slytherin or Ravenclaw, of which he didn't bother to guess.

So they picked up a random hostage because they knew you would charge in like the whitest of white knights, all to save an innocent?

Whatever, we're gonna take out whoever they put up against us. Come on!

"All right, then," Harry said, Ouroboros translating his speech into the merfolk's language. "Let's dance!"

He switched his Device into its Shooting Mode, and moved in.


It was three minutes into exchanging spells and blows that Harry realized one important fact: the merfolk chieftain was so below him in combat ability.

There were so many times where he could have just used Flash Move to warp in and separate the chieftain's head from his shoulders with a point-blank Phase Bolt, or stunned him long enough for an Arc Smash to vaporize the entire lake, or some other flashy and powerful means of victory.

And there were even more times where he could have just broke through the merfolk chieftain's defenses and stabbed him with Ouroboros in wand or dagger form.

Am I too fast, or is this guy too slow?

You remember who you've been training with?

Oh... right.

When he realized that he could have ended the fight in the first couple seconds, Harry turned to see the hostage's head starting to turn blue, and he knew that he had to end this fast.

The merfolk chieftain chanted, and ripples of pressure came roaring at Harry, only for him to sidestep them as he moved closer, and right before the chieftain could summon up another volley of attacks, he saw a green light...

"Phase bolt!" Harry intoned, and as his Device activated the spell, the merfolk chieftain took the brunt of the magical blast and plummeted back down to the roof of his house, unconscious.

"Now that that's done," Harry told no one in particular as he made his way to the hostage. Dark hair, oriental features... and he finally saw enough of the tie to determine it was a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin.

After commanding Ouroboros to make a strap to bind her on his back, he began the swim back to shore, the hostage piggybacked on him, and a decisive victory on his hands.


...and then what?


The second event was another massive success for Harry and Dun Scaith, as he had emerged well before the time limit with his hostage. The rest of the Triwizard contestants also made it before the time limit, but that was because his knocking out of the chieftain disoriented the rest of the merfolk enough for the others to take advantage of the opportunity and win big.

Naturally, when the scores were tallied, Harry had now gained a comfortable lead, and maybe the ire of the grindylows, as despite the massive power of his Phase Bolt buckshot, it wasn't lethal at all.

Of note was when the merfolk chieftain called down Headmaster Dumbledore to ask "from what fresh saltwater hell did he get that 4th contestant?"

Harry and Ouroboros were too busy listening into and mentally laughing at the chieftain's rant to digest that they were in the lead, and that the other Triwizard contestants were now considering teaming up against him.

Except Fleur, of course, as he had done her a huge favor in making sure she was able to make it to the merfolk village.

He caught a glimpse of her embracing Gabrielle, who was just wet and bedraggled as she is, and after she turned to see him, gave him a grateful nod that he returned.

The rest of the ceremony flew by in a blur, even as Harry was feeling the buzz of having helped Fleur rescue her sister, even if that was all a dog and pony show in the end. As soon as the event had been declared completed, with the participants and audience returning to Hogwarts for the requisite meal together, Harry was suddenly struck with a feeling of accomplishment.

I've got Master, I've got Tom... I think I have a decent shot at winning this!

Don't get complacent, though, Ouroboros replied. I think that's what the Witch would say, and any overconfidence you have will most likely be trained out of you once the weekend is done.

You are such a buzz kill.

Anyway, the worst of it is done – there's just one task, several months away, and I think we could use a bit of downtime.

Have I mentioned how you sound a lot like that Granger girl? Only you would think of academic activity as downtime.

Looks like my fiendish nature has rubbed off on you.


I knew it.

The week after the second task, the Witch threw them into the deep end... again.

The training sessions in the Room of Requirement had become even more frantic, with evading spells, withstanding what Scathach called "pain runes" (felt like Cruciatus, but without the side effects), learning how to stay calm when injured or in pain... and she had become even more vicious with that red spear of hers.

It was with a zombie's gait that an exhausted and disheveled Harry emerged from one of his master's training sessions, only to run into the hostage he had rescued.

"Oh, hello there," he said as soon as he saw her. "Fancy meeting you here... what was your name again?"

"Cho."

"Right, Cho. Hello there, Cho," Harry said, his mind still not all there yet.

"You look awful," Cho observed. "What have you been doing in that room?"

"If you think I look awful, ask about how I feel: how bad I look is just about a quarter as bad as how I'm feeling," Harry replied with a groan. "Even my bruises have bruises on them."

"...What kind of things would cause you to end up like that?"

Harry tried to downplay his state. "Well, my Master and I were just working on a few Defense-related things, you know how it goes."

"Oh," she said, and immediately recalled how Professor Pennyworth taught Defense. "Well, you don't look like you're in shape for going to Hogsmeade with me on the weekend."

Though he was surprised, he could barely raise his head towards her.

"Why?"

"Well, I haven't had a chance to thank you."

Harry shrugged.

"It's still Thursday, so... you're welcome?"

In Harry's mind, Ouroboros started laughing hard.

"Sounds good, actually! So... I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry answered, raising his hand as she skipped away.

What the hell was that? Harry asked his Device, who played a song in lieu of a reply.

"And they call it puppy love..."

You fucker.

His Device just laughed even harder.


Historical Revisionism


Shortly after the Second Task, and the last-minute change of having the Triwizard participants battle merfolk champions underwater, the committee scrambled to make some last-minute changes to the Third Task, as while a chase through a hedge would make for a good task challenge-wise, it wouldn't make for a good task, publicity-wise.

Principals and faculty from three schools were wringing their brains for some ideas until the Witch of Dun Scaith stepped in and saved the day.

"I am a consultant for Hogwarts' Dueling Club, as it is run by Professors Snape and Pennyworth," she declared shortly after another meeting about what the Third Task should be started. "I know you know that some of your students have been sneaking out to observe our Dueling Club activities, so why not make the third task a dueling tournament? Single combat, single elimination, winner advances."

Bagman nodded.

"That's... why, why didn't we think of that? Dun Scaith has also participated in the Triwizard, making it four champions. Why, we could make it so that each school will hold their own tournament, and the best four of each would take part in the third task!"

Scathach grinned – she liked it when others came up with her ideas on their own.

"That's right," Karkaroff added. "Sixteen students and the rounds spread out over a week, plus the tournament being broadcast on wizarding wireless? Would make for a great publicity coup for our schools."

"It would also give the students who did not participate a chance to prove themselves, too!" Headmistress Maxime chimed in. "This is a very good idea. Scrap the maze, let's make it a tournament!"

What was left afterward was the hashing out of details and the selection process for their respective schools.

Nobody noticed a tiny beetle perched on the corner of the room seeing everything, and making a mental note to write about the Triwizard deepening the cooperation between the three schools who should ostensibly be rivals.

Maybe there is hope after this.


In Da Club (obligatory "go go go go go go / go shawty it's yo' birthday")


The Dueling Club meeting that followed once everything had been arranged was eventful, as Scathach had made the announcement to the participants, to much applause and approval.

"Our end-of-term dueling tournament's top 4 will now decide who will participate in this Third Task tournament! Naturally, our champion is exempt from this contest. All four participants will be awarded with copies of this picture... and this picture."

She brought out the competition swimsuit picture, leading to a lot of hooting and hollering from the male student body, because she brought out another animated picture: this time, she was wearing a purple bikini, the same color as her hair.

After silencing the room with a gesture, she continued.

"And, this is for the one who advances the furthest in the tournament."

She brought out an animated portrait showing Professor Pennyworth's performance in the Hogwarts' faculty Christmas party, singing something by a Muggle, Mariah something-or-other; Harry recognized the title as "All I Want For Christmas Is You".

That wasn't the noteworthy thing: the bunny outfit she was wearing was the thing that attracted the most attention.

Snape sighed at the pandemonium ensuing in the Dueling Club, once more.

As her apprentice, Harry was there and watching the proceedings with amusement.

Wonder who would be bad enough to make it to the Third Task? Ouroboros asked.

I don't know, but we have a pocket full of aces. Even then, we still have to be careful so we can win the whole thing. Sixteen participants, and four rounds? We're going to have to step it up, even without Master's help.

It's great that you have a good head on your shoulders. But be warned. That picture is going to make your classmates train like they've never trained before.

Don't I know that. We're going to have to work on our arsenal of spells.

Ah, ah, ah. That will have to wait. Tomorrow is Saturday. Do you know what that means?

No... I don't.

Hogsmeade. With that girl Cho. Or did that last training session mess up your memory that badly?

Crap, you're right! Ouroboros, I have a problem, though...

...let me guess, you don't know what to do on a date, right?

YES!

All right, let's do what we did with Lucius Malfoy. Watch a maestro at work.


Friday Night (Can't Stop Dancing All Night Long)


After the Dueling Club meeting, the Witch and her apprentice were walking back to their quarters, when she surprised him.

"There will be no training tomorrow and on Sunday, I have personal business to attend to," she said. "Feel free to treat this as a day for rest and recreation – things will step up as the Third Task is approaching. Speaking of which, I have thought about bringing you as a guest for the other Dueling Club members to spar against, just to take the measure of their prospective opponents in the Triwizard finals. Do you approve?"

"I might get scouted," Harry thought aloud. "But sparring under a handicap is another form of training, so I guess that's a good idea. Besides, I've seen the sixth and seventh years all fired up trying to win that prize of yours."

Scathach smiled.

"Now you're thinking like a warrior. Keep that up and you're going to win the Triwizard easily, even without Ouroboros' esoteric abilities."

Weird. A compliment. She gives those out once every blue moon.

Yeah... something seems to be up. I should thank her.

"Thank you, Master."

"You're very welcome. Now, what's this I heard from the Ravenclaws about you and Cho Chang?"

Harry and his Device both groaned.


The day of the Hogsmeade date finally came, and Harry found the whole affair sorely underwhelming.

Everything that happened was so banal, so boring... but Ouroboros was constantly telling Harry that he should enjoy the boring and peaceful times while he could.

All he and Cho Chang did during the date was walk around Hogsmeade, with Cho asking a lot of questions about Harry's life and misadventures, with Harry trying to give his best possible answers.

When it was Harry's turn to ask, Cho surprisingly scrimped on her answers, but at the time, he did not notice – the town was just that picturesque in the winter.

Eventually, their stroll ended up in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, where Cho asked Harry about his chances in the tournament.

"I honestly don't know if I'll win, that's why I'm training my best," he replied honestly. "But with the kind of training I'm going through, I'm sure I'll put up a good showing, even against the other champions. It's a huge honor – and a huge responsibility – to be the champion of Dun Scaith, picked out personally by Scathach herself."

As soon as he said that, he spotted a shock of purple hair several tables down, and turned to see his Master having tea with a cloaked man. While he was listening to Cho, he asked Ouroboros to snoop on the Witch's conversation.

"I've acquired what you've asked for," the Witch said as she handed over a small vial containing a suspicious red liquid to the cloaked man, "and I've also convinced Bagman and the others of the diversion."

"What about the other end?" the man asked.

"We should have enough time to make the pickup, but it's going to be cutting it very close. Are you sure he's fit to travel after that?"

"The ritual should go off without a hitch... I still need more proof that you're not going to screw me over or throw me to the Ministry's mercies."

"Who do you think I am? You asked for my help, and my help I shall offer to you. The only variable here is the destination, and the conditions of my assistance."

"I know that. But this is the only shot I have now, because of circumstances."

"Very well."

Harry's attention returned to Cho as she was talking more about Cedric and that "blonde French bimbo with big bumpers" that kept hitting on him.

After having tea and strolling back to Hogwarts, Harry thanked Cho for a good time, and she left to rejoin her fellow Ravenclaws.

Okay, that was odd.

Very odd, indeed. Who could the person the Witch was talking to be?

Beats me. That vial was also very suspicious.

You know our Master, always doing things behind our back, things we probably aren't prepared to deal with now.

Yeah... we still have the tourney to prepare for. Let's put it on the back burner for now, then ask her about it once the tourney's over.

Agreed.


Not Your Ordinary Death Eater


Several days after the Hogsmeade date, a small shock reverberated throughout the wizarding community, as Ludo Bagman was investigated for the disappearance of the official overseeing the Triwizard: Bartemius Crouch Sr.; the investigation brought back Bagman's past as a Death Eater who avoided imprisonment by saying he was put under the Imperius.

After a class where the Imperius was discussed by Professor Pennyworth, Ouroboros and Harry were having a rather enlightened conversation.

Bagman was a Death Eater?

He was, though he wasn't privy to any of our insider information.

What do you mean?

Bagman's only claim to fame was his quidditch skills. Magically, he's incompetent, and has all the interpersonal skill of a big, dumb, jock. Naturally, he joined our group because everyone else of note did.

So... he's a bandwagoner.

Exactly. I'm not that surprised he claimed Imperius. Must have been under the recommendation of someone like Malfoy.

Why?

Bagman doesn't know anything of worth about the Death Eaters. I'd wager he still thinks it was an association of the "cool" people in the Wizarding World, and we never disabused him of the notion by including him in raids, meetings, or any of that stuff. We just used his popularity and his reputation as a quidditch star as a recruitment pitch.

So he's just a glorified figurehead.

Exactly. As far as Death Eaters go, Bagman is the type who can never harm a fly – outside quidditch. That's why Crouch brought him on board: he thinks Bagman can lead him to more Death Eaters, and his popularity would also improve his reputation from being a cutthroat prosecutor.

My godfather did mention Crouch being the one who convicted him.

Yeah, the guy was a bit too quick on the draw for my taste, but it did help the Death Eaters gain some sympathy points from the public, i.e. those naive bleeding-heart morons. It helped the Imperius defense gain some legitimacy, once I got to read those transcripts.

Harry laughed.

So what do you think happened to the old man?

I don't know. Maybe someone with a grudge showed up. The man had enemies.

With the topic out of their minds, Harry and Ouroboros continued onto Potions, where Snape was his usual grumpy self.

A few days later, the elder Crouch was found in the outskirts of Hogwarts with his House Elf Winky, completely disoriented and the last few days missing from his memory, and with Bagman's alibi corroborated, he was cleared of any suspicion in the disappearance, and the build-up towards the Third Task of the Triwizard continued on...


Among Us


The weeks leading up to the Triwizard finale continued on uneventfully, with Harry going with Cho to Hogsmeade several more times in between his classes and the ever-more-grueling training sessions with the Witch.

All of this bore fruit for Harry, as he was now able to change Ouroboros into a wand for him to cast spells with. Before, Ouroboros would cast spells for him, but with the Witch making sure they could only cast spells both of them mastered, it spurred the young man to start working on mastering his limited arsenal of spells.

However, during one of the last meetings of the Dueling Club, a small incident roused the suspicion of the boy and his Intelligent Device: during a conversation with Cedric Diggory as they watched the dueling club sparring, Cedric had said something about "Breakfast at Tiffany's", something Harry had told Fleur during the Yule Ball.

That wasn't something Cedric should have known, and from that moment onward, Harry considered his upperclassman with suspicion, though at Ouroboros' urging, he did not immediately show it on his face.

As soon as the meeting ended, Harry went to an empty classroom nearby, and brought forth the Marauders' Map.

"What the fuck..." Harry muttered as he saw Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang in close quarters in another empty classroom.

Is this what I think it is?

This is beyond our scope to deal with. We need to consult our Master.

You're right.


"I think we have some circumstantial evidence... that Cho Chang is dating me to gain information, information that she gives to Cedric Diggory," Harry told the Witch as soon as they entered their quarters, and as soon as he saw the Witch's face, he let out a breath of annoyance about being locked out of the loop. "You don't look surprised, Master."

"I had my doubts," she said. "Besides, based on the second task, you are not that attached to anyone here in this school, and anyone attached to you here can fend for themselves, for the most part. Based on that... it makes me think that once you finish your education here, you will forego the British Wizarding World altogether and set your roots down elsewhere."

"Do you disapprove?"

She smiled.

"Absolutely not. You are free to live your life the way you choose to, even if my guidance means that you will have to fight your way through it."

"So what should I do... about this?"

"Use it... to your advantage. Give her false information you can leverage should you and Diggory meet in the finals of the third task. Think of doing it like how the Weasley twins prank people."

Harry grinned. That was something he could definitely go on board with.


Book Learning


Fresh off a training session in the Room of Hidden Things, Harry found himself passing some time by reading through the Krav Maga booklet gifted to him by his uncle, aunt and cousin. A lot of the preparatory activities and ways to keep in shape within were already part of his daily training regimen, thanks to the Witch, but the philosophy of avoiding conflict and ending it decisively should it escalate was something he had yet to encounter, and he was reading through that.

"Interesting read, my student," the Witch remarked. "A gift?"

"That is so, my Master," Harry answered. "It is about self-defense, and I have read through it a few times already."

"But you do not apply it yet? Let me have a look at it."

Harry handed over the booklet to the Witch, and after scanning it for a few seconds, she nodded.

"I shall hold onto this for now; maybe I can train you with what I can learn from this."

That surprised Harry. Normally, Scathach would have all the answers to any of his questions, so why was she treating the booklet like something she'd never seen before?

"Ah, I see the look on your face. Remember, Harry: I am a teacher of heroes, and I know that sometimes, to be a better teacher, one has to be receptive of learning new things, like a student does."

"Right."

"That reminds me," Ouroboros remarked aloud. "That was my dream so many years ago: I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up."

"Well, you have your memories, experiences, and menagerie of magic spells to teach, aside from your functions as a Device," Scathach replied. "So, in a way, your dream has been fulfilled. Maybe that's why you nurse no resentment towards your boss – you have no more regrets now, do you?"

"Not anymore," the Device replied. "With what's coming, I want the boss to be prepared for anything and everything, even if I have to face off against myself."

"Let's hope it won't come to that," Harry said. "But the book did say that should a fight be unavoidable, we have to fight as hard as we can."

"And that's where I come in," the Witch added. "Come on, there are still a few tricks with casting Charms you have yet to learn from me."

The Room changed into a dojo, and the training day began accordingly.


Ready to Rumble


The days, weeks, and months passed by quickly, as Harry found his preparations for the dueling gauntlet that was the final task of the Triwizard Tournament stepping up drastically.

Before, he was being treated with kid gloves.

Now, the Witch of Dun Scaith was going after him with even more power and ferocity; in the heat of battle, he found his abilities forged to an absurd degree.

To what, he did not know; all he knew was that the Witch was powerful beyond comprehension, and every time he sparred against her, he emerged from the Room of Hidden Things exhausted, singed, bandaged, limping, and/or all of the above.

The training was such that his plans to prank Cho Chang went out of his mind until the last Sunday that would make for the eve of the gauntlet proper.

You have anything in mind on how to make Cho's leaking of information backfire on her?

No, nothing at the moment...

Well, you are in luck. Remember the tournament brackets? You and Cedric are on opposite sides. Block A has you, Edvard Markov, Ricard Vellanoise, and Roger Davies.

I remember him. He's the president of Fleur's fan club here in Hogwarts.

Did you see all those fan signs he made saying all those wonderful things about you, in the Second Task?

Harry laughed as he remembered.

Yes, they were very... imaginative. If it wasn't for Master holding me back...

Well, now you've got your chance, assuming he gets past Vellanoise. From what we've seen, the man is known for rapid-fire spell barrages, and he wields his wand like a rapier. Some sort of spellsword aspirant.

So we make a fight plan for Davies and Vellanoise, huh?

Yep. Davies is, and I hate to make you complacent, a pushover. He wears his heart on his sleeve. Piss him off and he's going to make the first mistake, which you can capitalize on.

What about Markov?

Sangromancer. His uncle's one of those shadowy research-type guys; won't let his nephew into the family magic until after his school term. Expect solid fundamentals from him.

Gotcha.


The nineteenth of June dawned, a bright and sunny morning that concealed the beginning of the dueling tournament that would decide the winner of the Triwizard tournament.

Because of the number of participants, the first round would be stretched over two days, with the next three rounds taking a day each.

Of course, knowing that there would be those who would aim to win by any and every means necessary, the participants of each school were placed under strict guard.

Thus the event began, with students of each school cheering on their duelists and champion as they made their way onto the stage.

After the opening ceremony ended uneventfully, Harry found himself in a waiting room, the very first duel of the tournament, the sound of his heartbeat resounding heavily in his ears as the pressure was beginning to get to him.

Unlike everyone else here, who wanted to win for personal glory or for school spirit, he felt like he was caught between a rock and a hard place.

It was monumental expectations piled high upon him, his age, and what he was representing.

Harry, you're palpitating.

Don't tell me, Ouroboros; I just want this over and done with.

Deep breaths, boss. You're fine. We're fine. We'll be fine. We're trained by the best. Remember what the Witch taught you.

Right, right.

Breathe in energy.

One, two, three, four.

Breathe out stress.

One, two, three, four.

Again, Harry: breathe in energy.

One, two, three, four.

And breathe out stress.

One, two, three, four.

Harry and his Device continued the breathing exercise for several more minutes until a purple-haired head poked into the curtains of the waiting room.

"It is time, my apprentice."

Harry opened his eyes calmly and looked at the Witch of Dun Scaith.

"Let's go."

He stood up, and with a thought, summoned the Barrier Jacket he used as a representative of Dun Scaith, and transformed Ouroboros into a staff topped with a green orb, with metallic rings orbiting it.

Showtime.


"Presenting, the unprecedented fourth champion of the Triwizard, representing Dun Scaith, give it up for Harold "Harry" Graham!"

Polite applause filled the stadium, except for someone who may or may not have been Draco Malfoy shouting "Kick his ass!" up in the bleachers.

"And his opponent, a seventh-year from Durmstrang, the latest of the Markov line, Edvard Markov!"

The crowd politely applauded while the Durmstrang contingent cheered for their duelist.

"Now, both contestants – dueling positions!"

Harry's grip on his staff tightened.

"Ready... and begin!"

As soon as Bagman vanished, the spells began flying, and Harry did what he did best: dodge.

It was difficult, as Markov was very skilled at layering hexes and jinxes on top of one another, weak things that disrupted the opponent, setting them up for a huge combination of Flippendo and Depulso that knocked the target off-balance long enough for him to put the opponent at his mercy.

That tactic was what served Markov the best for him to win his school's own dueling tournament for the right to be at this event, but this time, it wasn't working.

Graham was simply too agile; once he got the hang of how Markov shot spells, he started to mix in his own hexes in between evasive maneuvers.

"Scheisse!" Markov exclaimed as he was blindsided at this development: this Graham kid was taking his best tactic, evading it, and now he was countering it, all on the fly! "What kind of training did that Witch put you through?"

Harry did not reply, and instead finished the fight by parrying the seventh-year duelist's strongest combo, sending the spells off to the sides, impacting the charmed arena walls, and stepped into Markov's guard, the staff glowing an ominous green as he had him dead to rights.

"I... I cannot believe this... I surrender!" Markov declared as he lowered his wand.

"What a splendid start!" Bagman announced. "After a furious ten-minute exchange of spell fire, it seems Dun Scaith's Harold Graham has triumphed... and will be advancing in the tournament! Give it up for our contestants!"

Everyone applauded; the fight was really that spectacular, and Markov had the good sense to raise the victor's arm in a display of sportsmanship.

"A healthy diet and daily exercise," Harry said as they were walking back to the waiting room. "That is what the Witch of Dun Scaith did."

"Bullshit," Markov said, and they both laughed. "Seriously, though. You were something else – I thought I was facing my uncle Sorin for a moment! Are you going to join the dueling circuit when you are finished here, Mr. Graham?"

"Still weighing my options, Mr. Markov – and please, call me Harry. Mr. Graham makes me sound old."

"If you will call me Ed. All of my friends do, Harry."

"Glad to hear, Ed."


First Round, First Day


As a result of the first match, Harry found himself a new friend: one who talked nonstop about wizarding duels and tactics.

"You were taught the parabolic casting arc first? Unbelievable! We don't get taught that until sixth year! And with the way you were firing spells off, you looked more like a pro! Unbelievable, just unbelievable," Edvard Markov continued as the break between bouts slowly came to an end.

Harry didn't want to give the fact that Ouroboros was doing most of the heavier calculations during the bout away (however, during training, the Witch would insist that he not use his Device when casting, so it was a net benefit either way), so he just smiled at the Durmstrang seventh-year.

"Anyway, our champion is in the B Block, so you will face him in the third round. Good luck on the second!"

"Yeah, may the best champion win," he said with a polite smile, and Edvard ran back to his classmates.

Do you think he's going to help Krum by telling him how we dueled?

Sucker bet. However, we've only shown off a fraction of what we can really do; we've got a ton of surprises waiting in the woodwork.

"You're not going to watch the rest of the bouts?" a voice asked behind Harry, and he wheeled around to see his Master. "They're starting in a few minutes."

"On my way, Master. I just had some... company."

"Yes, and it's a good thing you were able to pick his brain just as much as he picked yours," Scathach said with a grin. "Come on, the house elves will bring snacks for us as we watch."

With a grin, Harry followed his Master back to the box seats reserved for them.


The bout immediately after Harry's was the most interesting one he had seen so far; Vellanoise had been in the lead, whittling down Roger Davies' defenses until he reversed the outcome by capitalizing on a telegraphed spell.

"Well now," Harry said as soon as preparations for the next round were underway. "Vellanoise was never at an advantage in the duel, right, Master?"

"Very insightful," Scathach replied. "Can you explain why?"

"Davies knows he's not as fast or as magically talented as the fencer, so he used that to his advantage. Fencers are trained to go after holes in opponents' defenses, so he deliberately put a hole in his defense that Vellanoise couldn't resist going after, and he never realized that Davies was limiting his options from the start of the bout."

The Witch smiled.

"Did you come up with that on your own or did Ouroboros help you?"

"All on my own, Ouroboros only confirmed my suspicions when the duel ended."

"Excellent. You don't realize it, but you have become a better mage than when you started. Keep it up."

"Thank you."

"So, what do you think would be the way to counter someone setting deliberate holes in their defense as a trap?"

Harry was quiet for a moment.

"As the bouts are continuing, I suggest you try working on that with Ouroboros, knowing that he'll be your opponent, day after tomorrow," Scathach said, and that was when the House Elves entered, snacks in tow.

He nodded solemnly, and his Device blinked green.


The next several bouts were not that interesting, as those who were expected to win, did.

Viktor Krum defeated Kenneth Towler, a seventh-year Gryffindor, and Claire Rousavall proved she wasn't just eye candy and defeated another Durmstrang duelist – Gisela Soderlund – in a marathon of a match.

Of particular note was the fact that during the girls' bout, a lot of cutting charms were used, and the battle was decided by a close-quarters grapple, much to the delight of the male students watching.

Since the day had only so many hours, there were only four duels at most per day, and that blocks C and D would conduct their first rounds the next morning.

Harry and his Master returned to their quarters, minds whirring with ideas and tactics to use against their upcoming opponents.


The Second Day


The twentieth of June turned out to be a bright and pleasant summer's day, a very good day to have some wizarding duels and determine the winner of the Triwizard Tournament.

First on the card was Fleur Delacour against a Durmstrang duelist named Brunnhilde Stern ("please, call me Bruna," so she said).

Harry was watching a bit more intently than usual, which got a smile from his Master, as Fleur showed off a really fascinating combination of simple spells and her Veela ancestry to throw fireballs at her opponent.

As it turned out, the fireballs were the key to Fleur's victory, as she used the threat of getting roasted alive to gain the win by slowly cutting off her opponent's room to move.

"She's got some new moves," Scathach thought aloud as a victorious, though slightly tired, Fleur was being led back to her box by Headmistress Maxime. "Did you notice her as she fought underwater in the second task?"

"I did. I think that little rescue I did lit a fire under her ass," Harry remarked offhandedly, while still looking at the stage and analyzing how Fleur controlled the arena in her bout.

"Pretty sure that's not all she did," the Witch said, and Harry never bothered to look back to show his Master his rapidly reddening face, as he did not pick his words wisely.

It was also now that Harry heard Ouroboros chuckling.

"There's going to be another bout, and then lunch," Scathach continued, and right on cue, the house elves of Hogwarts emerged, snacks in tow.

Harry nodded, and around fifteen minutes later, the next bout began.


You noticed that? Harry asked Ouroboros as soon as Cassius Warrington was being led off the field on a stretcher. This isn't a personal duel, but that Montague guy went after Warrington like he owed him a school year's worth of lunch money. I'm not a fan of Slytherin, but we Hogwarts students gotta stick together, that was overdoing it!

Montague... Montague... Ouroboros answered, thinking aloud for a moment. Right, Montague! His family is notorious for being rabid pureblood supremacists. And check who's next on his fight card in the next round.

Fleur.

Yep, I don't think he hurt Warrington out of any personal quarrel, he just wanted to make a statement... to everyone here, but mostly to Fleur.

I heard her friend say that Montague was the favorite to be the Beauxbatons champion until something happened.

Well, there you go, Ouroboros said. I also analyzed Warrington's injuries. A lot of them are simple blunt-forced attacks; no magic whatsoever. He's a pro – he knows how to make it look bad, but a glass of Skelegrow and a good night's sleep and his opponent will be back to fighting form.

Hope Fleur does her best against him.

Don't worry too much about her, focus on preparing for tomorrow. Davies is going to be tricky.

Right.


The next two bouts weren't that notable, except for Diggory winning without revealing any of his best moves, and the only Durmstrang student who made it past the first round, Sigarda von Braun.

Those last two bouts didn't have anything that we haven't seen yet, Ouroboros remarked as the day's ceremonies were closing.

Davies will be a troublesome opponent.

Not if we already know his tactics.

However, none of them were prepared for the surprise that was coming, as when the Witch returned, there were two men flanking her.

"Too bad we never got to see you in the first round, Harry. How have you been?" the newly-promoted Rear Admiral of the Time-Space Administration Bureau, Gil Graham, asked. "Your teacher has been sharing a lot of interesting stories involving you."

Harry sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"Doing well enough, I guess," he answered. "So will you guys be around for the rest of the tournament, Uncle Gil?"

"That's right," Sirius Black replied. "We're also here to take care of a few legal matters, get my name cleared, and finalize liquidating the part of my estate I'll use to continue my brand-new start at Midchilda."

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "The last time I saw you, you weren't..."

"Don't worry too much about that! The nurses at Mid have been taking very good care of me. Besides, once this is over, I'm going to have to put you up to speed with what you've inherited from me."

That was a surprise.

"Inheritance? You serious?"

"As a heart attack," Sirius answered. "There are still some things I own that I can't quite dispense with, but suffice it to say that you're not going to want for anything in your wizarding education from this point forward."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"Oh, and I've heard from your very pretty professor that you're going to be Seeker next year. How's the Firebolt I got you?"

He smiled.

"Working well and maintained properly, Godfather."

"Ah! Please, just call me Sirius. 'Godfather' makes me sound ancient."

Harry laughed; it sounded like he was, indeed, a chip off the old block.

"How about we continue this while having dinner at Hogsmeade?" Graham asked. "I've already invited your professor; you can come too."

"Sounds great!"


There was a lot of catching-up, awkward stories exchanged, and tales of adventures shared between Harry, his godfather Sirius, the Rear Admiral, and the Witch of Dun Scaith, over dinner at Madam Puddifoot's tea shop.

The atmosphere was celebratory, though the second round and beyond still loomed beyond him.

However, when the talk went to more serious topics, the mood became somewhat somber, especially with the bomb that the Witch dropped.

"I don't think I can teach you any further than this, Harry," Scathach began. "You've learned the basics of everything I can teach you: combat magic, awareness, runes, unarmed combat."

That came as a surprise to Harry.

"Why?" he asked.

"Nearly every facet of my teachings are lethal. The system with which Ouroboros operates is a pacifistic one. I've taught you the basics of everything so you and your Device can take them to a similar path as mine, but without the killing inherent in my personal style. Consider that my final lesson and challenge to you."

"Are you going to be leaving?"

The Witch nodded.

"I will return to the Land of Shadows once this school year ends. It was but an alignment of the stars that I was able to manifest here, and it will be around a decade before I can return here once more... but do not be downcast! Not all farewells have to be sorrowful, or permanent."

"What your Master means to say is that 'this is not goodbye, this is see you later'," Sirius explained. "Anyway, after spending most of last year as a research subject for long-term dementor damage, it was only during the start of your fourth year that I found out what happened to the rat. After I told Admiral Graham what happened, he didn't waste any time and took care of that loose end."

"He was notoriously slippery... but we caught him, extracted a confession out of him, and left him to the mercy of the Midchilda legal system. When they found out he was an animagus, oh boy, let me tell you, the researchers literally tore at each other for a chance to see how that works."

"Who won that bidding war again? Some guy named Spaghetti?"

"Scaglietti," the Admiral replied. "And that confession is why you're here in Hogsmeade and fancy free; without Crouch hovering over the DMLE, I was able to get the paperwork clearing your name processed properly."

"Can't believe I have to owe you big-time," Sirius remarked.

"Well," Graham replied, "I DID come from Hogwarts before, but once I graduated, I took the Enforcer's offer to go to Midchilda, and that was where I continued working."

"Is there any difference there than here?" Scathach asked.

"Not as much as you'd like to think," Graham answered. "Anyway, Harry, it's getting late. You and Lady Scathach ought to turn in for the night – Sirius and I will handle the tab. Kick ass tomorrow."

"Show 'em what the son of a Marauder can do," Sirius added with a wink. "Put on a show out there."

Harry smiled, though it was a tad bittersweet.

"Will do."


Harry found himself holding his Master's hand during the entire walk back to Hogwarts, and upon their return to the faculty office and apartment allotted for the Witch and her champion, he couldn't help it; his eyes started to water.

"You're going to conquer more than sorrow, Harry," Scathach said softly as she ruffled her apprentice's hair. "You are going beyond this world, and will go further than any other wizard of your generation has done... you'll be doing more for this world and that than any of my apprentices. Do you understand?"

Harry shook his head, and the Witch couldn't see his eyes, covered as they were by his hair.

"It is not yet time for tears, my apprentice," she continued. "You still have other things to take care of, remember?"

Harry nodded.

"Tomorrow, until the end of the Triwizard, I want you to do your absolute best. Make me proud. Can you do that?"

"I can."

"Don't tell me you can. Tell me you will."

"I will do it."

She ruffled his hair again.

"I look forward to your victories, then."

Harry went back to his room, still confused, but now filled with a blazing determination to win the whole thing, because it would be the best thing to send off the Witch with when she returned to the Land of Shadows.


A/N: The Durmstrang contingent (sans Krum) were inspired by Magic: the Gathering. Vellanoise and Rousavall are from another fanfic (Deprived).