2 days before the Yule Ball, 3 days before the Final Task

Room of Requirement

Harry Potter had never felt stronger, his magic stormed through him, his awareness of the very air of the battlefield making it unnecessary to look, as he simply was aware of everything that moved in his sky. He dodged not a millimetre more than was required to miss the spells targeting him, his own stunners blasting off his wand with parselmagic hissed into their creation to allow them to both seek their targets and punch through standard shields.

Alastor Moody simply ripped up about two feet of stone in a path about ten feet wide and then banished it at Harry like four hundred pounds of grapeshot from a cannon when Harry's stunner shattered it.

Harry conjured the narrowest shield he could, then thrust it forward shaped like a cone, not a plane, to deflect the shards headed towards him.

It almost worked. His trailing leg shattered as his foot was almost blown off, hanging limply from the bottom of his leg. Harry face planted with all the elegance of a pancake slipping from a five year old's breakfast plate.

Without thinking he raised his hand to catch the skelegrow potion Moody flicked towards him from the table in the back of the Room of Requirement where a wincing Sirius, a very pale Cedric Diggory, a grim looking Victor Krum, and thoughtful looking Fleur Delacour all had been watching.

Moody turned to Harry, and handed him the healing potion, then the pain potion as he began the debrief.

Harry had tears in his eyes, frustration, pain or rage he couldn't really say, perhaps it was a bit of each. Harry gasped out to Moody.

"What did I do wrong?" Harry asked in a low growl.

"Not a Merlin-be-damned thing lad. I am the best combat sorcerer the Aurors had after the last war, and of all the people who are alive right now, only Albus Dumbledore, Sirius over there and Baba Yaga can give me a run for my money, and Baba Yaga won't stir beyond the Russia's, and Sirius still hasn't got all the way back to form from his time in the Azkaban golf and country club."

Harry lurched into a sitting position and snarled out.

"I am supposed to face Voldemort. Dumbledore has tried to get his greedy little fingers on me like a goblin on a dropped galleon at Gringotts because I am supposed to be the last great hope of the light to destroy him." Harry was almost shouting.

Sirius tossed Harry a towel and squatted in front of him.

"Think about that for a second. James Potter was better than I was then, better than I am now honestly, and Voldemort killed him in about thirty seconds of combat. Sure he had surprise, but James was on the run from Voldemort and knew he was all that stood between Voldemort and you. James bought your mother thirty seconds to get to you and even Voldemort was surprised he could.

Your mother was the brightest witch in her generation, not a combat specialist, but the best enchanter anyone can remember, she didn't waste that time, but she never even thought about pointing a wand at Voldemort and fighting him."

Harry finally accepted the point of the lesson. "I can't beat Voldemort."

Moody laughed. "Dumbledore can't beat Voldemort. Sirius and I would try to hold him off, drive him off, buy time for everyone else to get clear, then try to escape, but unless Voldemort was stupid enough to face both of us together without backup, we wouldn't have a chance to beat him."

Noodle slithered across the floor and onto Harry's lap. He raised up to face Harry, his vertically slit eyes bored into Harry's as his mind bored into him without mercy.

"$ Stupid mammal. You do not fight prey, you kill it. I did not fight Death Eaters beneath the Black Lake, I killed them. I did not fight Not A Rat in the tunnels behind the place girl mammals rub themselves with bubbles, I killed him. You have not fought the Heir of Slytherin until now, you have just killed him.

Like a wise snake, you have been eating him one swallow at a time. Now you grow close to the head, close to the fangs of this imitation serpent. Why would you fight him now? You have almost devoured him. Do not descend to mammalhood now.

There is no fair, there is no fight. There is kill and eat. Your mother did not make you able to stand in front of him and exchange slaps or punches. She made you able to eat his soul, to destroy him so utterly neither hell nor rebirth will taste him. $" Noodle hissed.

Moody slapped Sirius on the back. "Should have started talking to snakes last war. Would have a lot more of you bastards around to pay your bar tabs."

Harry looked at Mad Eye and Sirius in frustration. "If I can't beat Voldemort wand to wand, then why did you drag all of us down here for combat training?"

Sirius grinned. "Look Dumbledore is dropping several grams of hallucinogen in those sherbet lemons of his if he thinks even a sparkly runed goblin boy can defeat a reborn Voldemort head-to-head and win just based on whatever hippogriff shit is in that prophesy he and Voldemort obsess over, but that doesn't mean you can't face him."

Moody nodded. "I fought him three times, and most of me lived to tell. Sirius fought him twice, James and Lilly three times before he came for them on Halloween, Frank and Alice three times. The Prewit twins chased him off once when he hit Greengrass manor. We are training you, and each of you champions, so that you can meet the little snake eyed bastard and hold him off long enough to get away, or get some help."

Harry looked at the ground. "What does Dumbledore think was going to save me when he offered me up on a plate to him?"

Moody barked a laugh that belonged to ravens more than humans. "Love. Long bearded bugger seems to think that you loving enough to stand still and die nobly will simply cause Voldemort's heart to grow three sizes and explode in his chest, or shoot rainbows out his ass until he is crushed by stampeding Unicorns."

Harry looked up at Moody in disbelief. "That is his plan? Love? You can't be serious!"

Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Of course he isn't Sirius, I am, but that is Dumbledore's grand plan. Then there is your mom's plan, which is rip the little shits soul out a piece at a time and then once he is nice and safely mortal, have him torn apart in a wildly excessive mass of spell fire."

Harry sat and thought for a bit. "There is only one Horcrux left, that is Nagini his familiar. There is no way he is bringing that into battle where it can be killed."

Moody grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "Now lad, Nagin isn't just a Horcrux, right now he is the Horcrux. Voldemort's whole immortality in one very killable bit. Since your lovely young lady went and ripped off Bellatrix head, and the rest of your merry band have killed all his old inner circle except Lucius no longer Malfoy, who is it among his little crew of brain damaged inbred psychopaths he would trust out of his sight with his soul and hope of eternal life?"

Draco Malfoy snorted. "He won't trust father. Honestly a lot of the rest of them aren't exactly stable, and the ones that are stable are usually the most dangerous as far as treachery goes."

Sirius smiled. "Look Harry, he has to have Nagini with him when he goes for his new body. If he does need to use you to get a new body, that means you are going to be close to Nagini when Voldemort gets his new body."

Harry frowned. "He isn't going to let me kill his snake. You just convinced me pretty thoroughly I am not beating him up to get to the snake either."

Hermione rolled her eyes and offered sarcastically from the book she was reading, without even looking up. "If only you knew a phoenix that could bypass all anti teleport and anti portkey wards."

Harry protested. "He isn't going to take me to anyplace you can find. it's going to be unplottable, or behind a fidelius or something. He isn't going to take me any place anyone without a dark mark can reach."

"Ow!" Harry said as Noodle head butted his rather brain limited mammal bond holder in a futile attempt to kick start the child's little goblin/wizard brain.

"$ Speaker has Noodle as familiar, guardian, protector, and thinking brain snake for the neuronally challenged mammal. A wizard and their familiar are one creature before magic. I cannot be kept from anyplace you are. I have a phoenix. $"

Noodle looked over at Mouse Giver, and Hermione looked back at Noodle, they both sighed and shook their heads. They would have to continue to do Harry's heavy thinking outside of combat, the only situation his brain seemed to realize was its task.

Cedric raised a cautious hand. When Sirius pointed at him with an amused glace the Hufflepuff prefect kept classroom manners in illegal combat training.

Cedric cleared his throat. "That explains Harry, but why are you all training the rest of us. Even though we have taken Griphook's gold and sworn not to take any gift of the cauldron, we are still technically his competition."

Krum snorted. "Because the only use Voldemort has of is as examples."

Fleur shuddered. "He has to prove he is better than the legend of the Boy Who Lived by beating Harry Potter in front of the world, and how could he prove how incredible that is unless Harry is the one who walked out of the maze that killed the champions of the three greatest schools of witchcraft and wizardry."

Cedric's eyes went wide. "We are all supposed to die in the third task, except Harry."

Harry grinned. "Or get killed when he snatches me, because you just took a piddle on the best laid plans of the Dark Lord on national TV, but you are definitely supposed to die in his plan. Dumbledore's too. He is planning on being the Lord of Light who delivered the world from evil at the cost of the poor sacrificed "Boy Who Lived". You guys get to be garnish to my roast boy."

Fleur huffed and crossed her arms beneath her generous breasts. "I do not like this plan." Her French accent thickening in her anger.

Krum snorted. "So, more training."

Grinning, Moody and Black raised their wands. "Step on up kiddies, surviving a Dark Lord 101 is now in session!"

That night, Fleur, Harry, Victor, and Cedric collapsed in the Beauxbaton hot tub and sipped blood replenishment potions. Cedric groaned and cursed his fate.

"Tomorrow we train in the Greenhouse. Neville said he put together a good simulation for the plants we might face in the maze." Cedric said, then began banging his head against the hard edge of the hot tub in despair.

Krum looked up. "It's just plants, how bad can it be?"

Harry shuddered. "Just plants? This is Neville, there is no such thing as just plants when its Neville."

Fleur sank down into the hot tub. "I fear this is going to be more of that 'good training' Moody was so 'appy about." She continued to sink beneath the waves then her face transformed into anger and bubbles shot from her mouth in a stream of agitated and underwater French.

No one knew what exactly the words were that came out as bubbles beneath the surface of the hot tub, but considering the more relaxed face the French champion had when she moved above the surface of the water, they assumed she got some necessary cursing off her somewhat amazing chest.

1 Day before Yule Ball, 2 days before final challenge

Greenhouse 3

"Is it just me, or is it a fair bit bigger on the inside than during our last Herbology class?" Cedric offered quietly, eyeing the ceilings that soared higher than the great hall, and the hedge maze that seemed to stretch the better part of a kilometer in front of them.

Professor Sprout smiled and patted Cedric.

"Quite a bit beyond what an expansion charm can do. Somewhat alarming it can be done at all inside the wards, but since Neville went and overdid things a bit on the extra credit assignment I gave him, his lady friends started taking an interest in helping him out."

Harry looked confused. "I thought Neville was dating Susan Bones?"

Professor Sprout blushed. "It was an emergency. Dumbledore had invited the Cauldron of Dagda inside the wards and that meant that the Morrigan came in with her fallen husband's token."

Harry looked alarmed. "You sacrificed Neville to the Cauldron? Hang on, he was at breakfast, he was fine. He's putting on the maze training, how did he get sacrificed.

Fleur nodded. "Oui, it makes sense. A life for a life. It is always better to offer a gift than pay a price when dealing with the fairy."

Three very powerful Amazons in celtic leathers with bronze swords upon their belts and the beginnings of serious baby bumps showing just above them came around the corner, dwarfing the relaxed looking Neville, of course, with a trowel in one hand and dirt under his nails.

"Baba Marta!" Exclaimed Victor Krum in excited Bulgarian, bowing deeply.

"Sainte Epona!" Whispered Fleur giving a deep curtsey.

"Bloody Morrigan!" Cursed Harry, his dagger flashing from its sheath and slamming against his chest in reflexive salute to the goblin revered three part goddess of slaughter.

"Bloody hell Neville!" Harry said, adding Professor Spout's speech about sacrificing Neville to the three obvious baby bumps in the fairy war goddesses.

Professor Sprout sighed happily. "Muggles may toss virgins into volcanos and hope that works. I toss virgins under war goddesses and trust my badgers to give their best. Neville is just an overacheiver."

Neville continued forward and waved his trowel happily.

"Hey guys, and Fleur. I mean, greetings champions. Well, right, so, Harry asked me to work up a testing sample of dangerous plants you might have to face in the maze. Professor Sprout and I worked out a pretty fair list of everything either one of us could think might fit in the maze, then I thought the best simulation of a maze that is trying to eat you is a maze that is trying to eat you, so we kind of made one." Neville said happily, in his happy herbology heaven that had no idea how terrifying it was. Professor Sprout and three goddesses of slaughter all beamed at Neville showing that he remained the most popular cuddle badger in Hogwarts.

Morrigan slid a hand down Nevilles hair and yanked his head back to kiss his throat in a frankly possessive move.

Macha, who was also known as Epona to the Gauls of ancient France smiled indulgently. "We do know the beasts that you wizards can breed and tame that could live in the maze. We do not have them, but we do not need them."

Badb, who was known as Baba Marta to the Bulgars, laughed. "We have Pooka. They broke faith with us once, and we took their own shape away. Now they can wear the shape of any other creature of this world. You will find them in the maze."

Morrigan let Nevilles hair go and grinned at him. "Most of them. Some of Neville's plants got hungry, and not all the Pooka survived. it is a very good maze."

"Merlin's beard!" Swore Cedric.

"Good training." Agreed/lamented Fleur.

"Better to sweat in training than bleed in battle." Observed Victor.

"Cedric, if I die in the maze, can you make sure the box under my bed gets destroyed before Hermione sees it, or mom comes to pick up my things?" Harry asked. All the boys chuckeld and Fleur just rolled her eyes.

They went into the maze.

Fleur hung upside down bound by a plant Neville was ignoring while he tried to get Victor Krum out of a yellow flower that seemed intent on swallowing him.

Harry asked Neville cautiously. "I thought dandylions were just a muggle weed thingy?""

Neville grinned. "In the right soil, planted in the dark of a new moon and given a drop of wizards blood you can make them into real dandylions."

Neville went out and pet the plants soft yellow mane. "Whose my good lion? You are! Be a good boy and spit the champion out and I will give you some good bloodtuber fertilizer this evening!" Neville cooed, and the plant trembled in obvious pleasure and spat out the Bulgarian seeker.

The venomous tentacular slowly lowered Fleur to the ground and released her. She looked at Harry, "So how did you escape?"

Harry blushed. "I didn't. Got taken down by one of the Blast End Skrewts. Avoided the back end that went boom and thought I was fine. Ruddy thing used its pinchers to pull up a mandrake by the stem and one scream later I was sleeping on the ground getting nibbled on by crab grass."

Fleur blinked. Animals being smart enough to use plants like the mandrake as area of effect weapons had not crossed her mind.

Cedric limped around the corner. His clothes were torn and he was rubbing his backside with the air of someone who did not look forward to sitting down in the near future, or stairs in general. Answering the question in everyones mind he answered.

"Crumpled Horn Snorcack. I made the mistake of laughing at it. Do not laugh at cryptids. They get snarky when you don't believe in them. He believed in me so hard I think I bruised my hip and know my knee is a good poultice away from bending without serious protest."

Cedric looked at Fleur, and the venomous tentacular. "How did you get nailed by the venomous tentacular?"

Fleur gave a gallic shrug. "They planted three stands of false tentaculars with the little blue flowers, and then one real venomous tentacular right in the middle. In nature, the venomous tentacular usually murders the false tentaculars who try to steal its water and sunlight, but I guess if you ask them nicely enough they will let them live and make excellent camoflage."

Cedric looked around. It was hard to see where the venomous tentacular and false tentacular began and ended. The little blue flowers of the false tentacular were very visible. The venomous tentacular would not bloom until well into spring.

Cedric gulped. He would have fallen for that too.

Victor Krum looked over to Harry. "Don't take this the wrong way, but that Neville of yours is too dangerous to be allowed to be walking around without warning labels."

Harry grinned a very goblin grin. "Neville Longbottom is the kindest sweetest Hufflepuff that ever lived."

Cedric finished softly. "Right up until you try to hurt someone he cares about."

Fleur shrugged again. "From the earth we come, to the earth we return. Makes hiding bodies easier if your greenhouse treats your enemies as just really good fertilizer."

Victor and Harry both laughed, and Cedric realized his may have been the only relatively easy life of all the champions. He swallowed. That had ended when his hostage was revealed at the second task. It would end all speculation at the Yule ball tomorrow of course.

Cedric decided to follow up on that thought while they were all relaxed and out of public earshot.

"So who are you all taking to the Yule ball?" Cedric tossed out casually.

"I'm taking Hermione. Draco and Milicent frog marched me to Narcissa Black for dance lessons so I don't embarrass anyone. Noodle has told me he will bite me once for each time I step on her feet, and has not promised to not use venom, so I may have skipped a few History of Magic classes for dance lessons." Harry admitted.

"I have the honour of escorting Fleur. There isn't another witch in the castle that doesn't look at me and see the Quidditch star. If I want a woman who actually sees me, my choices are pretty limited." Krum said simply, reaching out and kissing Fleur's hand.

Fleur sniffed. "I am not going to spend an evening with the world watching escorted by some drooling idiot that loses his brains down his pant leg every time he looks at me. If I am going to dance with a man, I want to know he is looking at me, not lost in my allure." She smiled soflty at Victor. "My choices are also fairly limited."

Cedric squared his shoulders and threw it out there, waiting for judgement.

"I am taking Roger Davis." Cedric said.

Harry glanced at him, head cocked questioningly. "He okay since the tower thing?"

Cedric blushed, more thankful than he could admit his fellow Hufflepuff's only reaction to his taking Roger Davis as his date was worried Roger was suffering from the effects of his transformation in the Ravenclaw tower incident.

"No, Roger got along fine with Luna. The only after effects he has is that he suddenly has a good ear for music and is an amazing dancer." Cedric smikred.

"I mean to make him prove that last bit." Cedirc chuckled.

Fleur let out a beautiful trill of laughter as Victor and Harry chuckled along with Cedric.

Cedric Diggory may or may not have a relationship with his father after the Yule Ball in front of reporters tomorrow, but he had friends. Considering the task was the day after the ball, he may not be alive all that long to enjoy them, but he had them. That mattered.

Yule Ball, Hogwarts Great Hall, day before Third Challenge

Harry Potter was in goblin finery. His kilt was black basilisk leather, as was his vest. Chains of goblin silver connected the vest and suported the sporran that hang below. His chest was bare, exposing his scars and runes for the world to see and take warning. On his hip was a dagger of goblin siver in a sheath that was encrusted with gems that glittered with more than natural light, glowing with the runic magic of goblin protection wards.

Upon his arm was Hermione Granger in an Indian Saree of red and gold, she was wreathed in flames that neither burned herself nor Harry, but ran over her body and that of Noodle the snake that ran over Harry's arms, across their linked arms, to wrap around Hermione's waist and rise up over her shoulder to glare out at the world on the opposite side from Harry. Those who looked closely could swear they could see flashes of silver beneath the Saree, suggesting Hermione as well bore the goblin runic tattoo.

Rita Skeeter grinned as her source of information made the visual splash her heart desired to open the ball. Camera's flashed like lightning and the assembled dignitaries began to clamour in reaction. The second pairing made the hall grow wild.

Fleur Delacour let her allure run wild, and every male (and no small number of female) eyes and minds locked onto her. Her gown was a vision of gossamer perfection, cut low enough in the front to allow the new goblin silver runes to shine on her skin, blazing in the power of her unleashed allure to draw every eye to their presence and power.

On her arm Victor Krum was like an unsheathed weapon, his bright Bulgarian vest and flaring pants gave him the aspect of some barbarian warlord, he too had chosen to go bare chested to show off the runes beneath his own vest, along with the scars of his battles and trials so far.

Cedric Diggory and Roger Davis came in. Cedric was dressed in black acromantula silk tight pants with lines of golden buttons running down the side, black silk shirt with laced top open enough to show the edges of his own shining silver runes, and a golden half cloak held with a badger clasp at his shoulder.

A golden sash bound his waist, with his wand sheathed angled for quick draw.

Roger was dressed in a blue and bronze version of the same outfit.

Rita muttered to herself "They look like gay pirates."

Her photographer was relaoding so fast he nearly lost a finger.

"Bloody amazingly hot gay pirates!" He agreed.

The four champions took their place in the middle of the floor, a line of champions, the flash of the photography flaring off the goblin silver runes that marked the champions of the three competing schools of magic and the goblin nation as being one clan.

To say that the majority of the political leaders in the audience failed to take this well is like saying that a family of mice seeing Noodle slithering through their front door were a little alarmed. The early clamour dissolved into angry shouting and as many shouted questions from the assembled media. The champions, in a show of maturity that few adults could muster, ignored the audience altogether.

instead, they turned forming two lines making a passage for the next couple to enter the ballroom. The assembled press and politicians already frothing at the mouth and demanding answers about the champions were now given something far meatier to feast upon.

Draco Malfoy dressed like he stepped out of the court of Charles I of France, the wide lace collar of his shirt a spray of white above the deep green and silver of his heavily engraved tunic, the serpent motif of its Slytherin origins worked so beautifully they seemed to move with him. The sneer on his face matched the dangerous way his left hand casually caressed the goblin silver sword that hung on his hip from a scarlet and gold baldric worked with golden lions. The sword of Gryffindor hung at his side as if it was forged for him. His steps in the dragonhide boots sounded with the crack that could only come from his magic reacting to the wards in the stones of Hogwarts sounding Draco's every step like a challenge.

Upon his arm, a vision of blonde elfin beauty in a high collared low necked gown that seemed to scream Dark Lady, Wicked Witch, Danger, and possibly Run Away Run Away, was Luna Lovegood. There was a soft smile on her face as she gazed lovingly at Draco Malfoy who glared at the world in her place. Upon Luna's head was the Diadem of Ravenclaw, and the single sapphire at its peak blazed with power every magical person in the room could feel.

Behind Luna and Draco drifted the Silver Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw, and Filius Flitwick, House Master of Ravenclaw, his arm held out for the Ravenclaw ghost to lay her immaterial hand upon.

The Ministry denials that the mirrors had shown real events, Dumbledore's insistence that the Diadem of Ravenclaw had not been found, and of course, could never have been corrupted by Voldemort seemed to shatter in the light of flashbulbs witnessing the public unveiling of Draco and Luna bearing the last two lost tokens of the Hogwarts Founding Four into the Great Hall.

The Champions fell in around Draco and Luna and escorted them to the champions table where Draco and Luna were seated by Harry in the place reserved for the Minster of Magic and Delores Umbridge. As Harry passed Rita Skeeter he whispered. "If you were a fly on the wall tonight, you might here some amazing conversations from wizagamot and ministry members around me."

There were a number of very long speeches from very important people. The longest and least interesting being from an angry Inquisitor and Undersecretary Delores Umbridge carrying her apology that the Minister was unavoidably detained in some unspecified fashion, but that she was empowered in all ways to act in his name. How she was to act in his name at a dinner theoretically for all the champions and their families on the eve of the final challenge was neither made clear nor really made likely as all four Champions and their companions openly ignored her to chat happily amongst themselves while she talked.

The champions were called to lead the first dance, and with grace few would expect from teenagers, the three couples (or four champions if you will) took to the floor and began the dance. As Severus Snape rose from the staff table and walked to Pomona Sprout, he extended his left arm to her in invitiation.

As he did, the cut away left sleeve fell open, showing the bare and fairly well muscled forearm of the potions master. Endless wrestling with cauldrons does wonders for arm strength, but the fact that drew every eye was the bare, unmakred flesh of his left arm.

Igor Karkarov, who had been one of Voldemort's Death Eaters who knew Severus Snape's membership choked on a sauteed scallop and nearly choked to death as he observed the clearly unmarked left arm. The Dark Mark that could not be removed, even in death, was missing. The Dark Mark that was written so deeply into your soul and magic by submission to Voldemort that cutting off the whole arm would not be enough to remove the mark was GONE.

As Snape led Sprout onto the dance floor, they took a turn about the room before entering, giving all the assembled nobles a good look at the bare forearm of Snape. Professor Sprout gave a sneer worthy of a Slytherin as she walked past Lord Parkinson where he sat with his daughter Pansy, and the leader of the Dark aligned Voldemort loyalists also saw that Voldemorts proof of his magical supremacy, the Dark Mark Parkinson knew could not be removed even in death, was gone from Snape's arm.

Rita hissed at her photographer to get a picture of that. She got both the bare arm and the shocked expression on Lord Parkinson's face. Her editors did not know enough to know they should not run that photo. After all, Lord Parkinson had beat the charges of being a Death Eater by claiming the Imperius curse had made him get it. They would not know they were showing the fear of a sworn Death Eater that young Harry Potter and his allies could strip the ownership of Lord Voldemort away like vanishing some minor blemish.

At one point Amos Diggory got up to object when Roger Davis dipped Cedric during a spirited tango, but Rubeus Hagrid had been posted behind Amos Diggory by a rather wiser Minerva McGonagall, and the hand the size of a small country that pushed Amos down into his seat went well with the slow happy burbling of Rubeus Hagrid about how wonderful the two boys looked together and how clearly all of the champions and their friends were so accepting.

If only those closest noticed that the hand squeezed whenever Amos tried to shout something, and relaxed enough to allow him to breathe only when he calmed down again, they were not gauche enough to point it out. Hagrid had been on the receiving end of bigotry all his life, so given clear orders from McGonagall to protect Cedric from his father's intolerance, Hagrid had no problem helping out.

After the dancing, Harry and his friends formed a knot of highly political figures as the parents of the powerful in both light and dark factions gravitated towards them like meteors captured by the earths pull.

Rita Skeeter and the reporters of course would not be allowed near such a discussion. Luna Lovegood however was busy petting a pretty bug she found, as she drifted at the edges of important conversations, unless she was the subject and center. Being Luna Lovegood wearing the Ravenclaw Diadem and showing off bright magical goblin runes, she could have been carrying a hand grenade and it might well have gone unnoticed, so those missing the odd beetle in her hand could be forgiven.

Neville Longbottom was with his grandmother, Hermione and Harry as the traditionally light families that made up Dumbledore's strength in the last war flocked to them in desperation or for confirmation depending on if they had placed their trust in Dumbledore, the Ministry, or Harry's clan and coven alliance.

Delores Umbridge forced her way into the crowd that followed Albus Dumbledore over to where Harry and the Longbottoms were holding court. With him came the heads of the Abbot, Fawley, Shafiq, while Amelia Bones stood off to one side conversing in low tones with Alastor Moody and Rufus Scrimgeour.

Dumbledore had his best grandfatherly smile on and his magic was like the light of the sun, bathing everyone in warmth and relaxation as he came to Harry.

"Harry Potter, our champion and a beacon of light in these dark times. I see you are using the Tri-wizards tournament the way we all hoped, to bring together the best and brightest of the next generation together." Dumbledore said, and the heads of his tame light faction families all gave cheerful agreement.

Harry laughed. "You have got to be joking. I'm not your champion. Cedric is your champion. I did not volunteer for this human sacrifice disguised as sport at all. I am not one of your smiling child soldiers, marching off to die for the glory of Albus do nothing Dumbledore. I am a draftee and conscientious objector. When your war comes, I will sit back and let the old men do the dying this time."

Harry felt Dumbledore's magic stirring and remarked to himself that if Dumbledore didn't think he could take Voldemort in a straight up fight, Harry should get that thought all the way out of his head now. Dumbledore's magic was like an ocean compared to the raging river that was Harry's.

Delores Umbridge snapped at Harry like a frog at a fly that was taunting her. "How dare you show such disloyalty to the Headmaster and the Ministry."

Hermione stroked Noodle and mocked the Hogwarts Inquisitor openly.

"Where in the Hogwarts Charter does the Headmaster have the legal right to send students off to kill and die in his name? I have read the works of all four of the founders, and while they talk an awful lot about the duty of the staff to lay down their lives to protect their students from harm, the only person to ever suggest that students need to go off and die for the Headmaster would be Dumbledore." Hermione asked coldly.

"I will see you in detention you filthily little mudblood!" Umbridge hissed.

The smack that rocked her head around, dislodging the pink hat pinned to her hair was a surprise to all. Augusta Longbotoom stood, hand outstretched, and grim look in her eyes as she watched Delores Umbridge turn back, face already showing an Augusta Longbottom handprint.

"I will see you upon the dueling ground. You will offer an apology on bended knee, or I will send you back to the ministry in a series of small boxes. None of them pink." Augusta Longbottom sneered that way that only women of a certain age and breeding can sneer.

Delores Umbridge pulled herself up to her full height. "Duelling is illegal under current ministry law. Aurors, arrest that woman!"

Amelia Bones, director of the DMLE, and two of her most famous former Auors, Mad Eye Moody and Rufus Scrimgeour drifted over, and Amelia was shaking her head.

"Hogwarts High Inquisitor? What kind of Inquisitor does not study the law they are supposed to enforce?" Madame Bones asked softly.

Alaaster Moody opened his mouth, but Amelia already pointed a finger at him with a stern "Shush you."

Inquisitor Umbridge sputtered. "What do you mean? Duelling is illegal in wizarding Britain, any idiot knows that!"

Hermione sighed and explained. "Hogwarts predates the founding of Wizarding Britain. When the founding twelve families signed the accords with the Norman invaders to found the Wizagamot the Founders of Hogwarts were suspicious of the new body and remained outside the authority of the new nation. Like Vatican city sits inside Italy but is not part of it, Hogwarts sits inside Wizarding Britain but is not a part of it.

Hogwarts has rules requiring both Heads of House to permit the duel and its conditions, and forbids duels to the death without matching parental permissions, but for legal adults the only rules about dueling inside Hogwarts territory is the Code Duello.

You have been challenged. You will either meet your challenger, offer your apology, or your challenger will be free to kill you without legal consequence whenever and wherever they see you again." Hermione concluded. Amelia Bones clapped cheerfully, as did her two ex-Auror sidekicks.

Everyone turned to look at Hermione who blinked back in surprise.

"What? It's in Hogwarts, a History." Hermione fumed, annoyed at everyone's surprise.

Rufus Scrimgeour laughed. "I begin to see what Dawlish is so obsessed with about you."

Delores Umbridge turned to face Augusta Longbottom, who as luck would have it has indeed read both Hogwarts a History, and the Hogwarts charter as head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

"On your knees to beg Miss Grangers forgiveness right here, and right now, or take your wand and meet me in the Defense Against the Dark Arts so I can kill you and get back to the ball." The Longbottom matriarch commanded in a voice that needed no Sonorus to command the room.

Neville sighed. "That's my gran."

Delores Umbridge dropped to her knees, and with a fake smile that could win gold in the Olympics if the event of clearly fake smiles was ever offered, proceeded to offer apologies for any unfortunate, unintentional, and of course utterly mistaken slanders at Miss Grangers blood status, character, or name.

Rita Skeeter's photographer had climbed on a table to see past the crowd. The flash of his camera showed he had captured the moment, a red cheeked Umbridge on her knees before Madam Longbottom and Hermione Granger.

Lord Ogden eased himself away from Dumbledore's crowd to stand by Harry's side and ask him softly.

"Did you mean it, about sitting back and letting everyone die when the war comes?"

Harry turned and he was no longer smiling. He spoke loud enough that the assembled members of the light faction, and any other hangers on who might be desperately eavesdropping could hear.

"I was tossed away like garbage by Albus bloody Dumbledore after he stole me from my parents murder scene, ignoring and in fact criminally concealing their will so he could dump me like garbage on my muggle relatives so they could express their utter hatred and fear of the wizarding world upon my body so that when I got to Hogwarts I was so desperate for support and so needing to belong that I would swallow whatever programming that grooming little git chose to offer.

My mother was a great deal smarter than Dumbledore, and made sure that Griphook the goblin was bound to care for me. I was raised goblin, in a family that loved me, and would slaughter the whole of Wizarding Britain and the rest of the goblin nation to defend me.

Dumbledore isn't going to go to war. Dumbledore is going to posture and pose, make speeches about love and sacrifice while his people and any hopes of victory die, just like last time. I won't play. His war is lost, because he isn't going to fight and Voldemort is.

I will sit back and watch the Ministry and all its rot burn. I will watch the Wizagamot and all its hallowed privilege drown in a sea of its own hypocrisy and blood.

When I go to war, I will leave no Death Eater alive, and Voldemort will have neither body nor soul. He will have no grave, no marker, no work of his will remain and endure, no ally of his will survive to whisper his name or remember his cause.

Feel free to follow Dumbledore. If you would prefer your house survives, I will be at Hogwarts when Britain falls."

Harry smiled then. Looking across the way where Igor Karkarov stared back in terror at a boy he suddenly truly saw for the first time. Not the boy he had been told about, not the myth Dumbledore had created that Igor felt free to laugh at. Karkarov stared at the boy who claimed he would wipe out the Dark Lord he had betrayed, and felt the cold of the grave wrap around his soul.

Across the Great Hall another much subtler gathering centered around Sirius and Narcissa Black where they stood with Milicent Bulstrode (Lady Selwyn) and her two dates, Fred and George Weasley in red and gold kilts and plaid.

Lord Greengrass eyed Sirius and Narcissa Black carefully. "We have never been part of either light or dark factions, frankly, neutrality was the best description for those of us who found ourselves positioned between hypocrites and madmen, and trusted neither."

Milicent Bulstrode laughed softly. "Lord Greengrass, look at me. I am a Bulstrode, not even the main branch, and I was one of Harry's closest before I ever took House Selwyn. He does not care about faction politics. You are either his enemy, in which you are already dead, just not fallen down yet; or you are not, in which case he wishes you well, and is ready to do business with you."

Nimue Avery said softly. "My father was a Death Eater, I neither was nor agreed with them, but my father and his brothers all were."

Narcissa smiled. "My soon to be late husband is a Death Eater, yet Draco stands beside Harry. Millicent's grandfather was a Death Eater, and she stands beside Harry. He is a goblin, they take revenge, and then get on with business.

Unless you plan on letting the blood of those Death Eaters stand between you, then Harry is ready to get down to business."

Nimue Avery looked at Narcissa, trying to spot the trap. "It is as simple as that?"

Narcissa gave a very Slytherin laugh. "Yes, a thousand years of goblin rebellions and it turns out it was always as simple as that."

Sirius grinned. "Just don't ever double cross him. Like a goblin he collects every debt in full."

The band played, the champions danced, the whole of wizarding Britain shared a last night of peace and scandal. Tomorrow would bring the last challenge of the Tri-Wizard Tournament.