OoTB 6
AN:
So, I released Monster which is last chapter yesterday (at the time of writing this), and I realised that I had forgotten to write the rest of the Black Family Meeting. I had written what is currently the end of the chapter before doubling back and writing the start of the school year and the whole thing with the goblet entries. This, of course, meant that I finished that part, and forgot that I hadn't written the rest of the last scene, leading to me posting the chapter.
So, I figured I would write the rest and maybe a bit more, so you all get an extra-quick follow-up chapter before Christmas. (It gives me a chance to throw in one of the larger canon deviations at the end too, so win-win)
Enjoy!
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"Bloody Hell," was Arcturus' reaction to the story.
The entire family, bar Walburga, was bearing some look of surprise of horror on their faces. Sirius' mother was seething, she obviously didn't want to believe Harry but knew that if she were to voice this, things wouldn't go her way.
"Dare I ask what happened last school year and so far, this year?" Cygnus asked.
"Well, last year, I discovered that dementors are a terrible way of trying to find people. They have a particular obsession with me for all the shit that's happened to me. Malfoy insulted a hippogriff and tried to have it killed for scratching him. I got attacked by dementors during a quidditch game, losing my broom to the whomping willow in the process. Then I learnt the Patronus charm with Professor Lupin, who was a friend of my parents and Sirius. Sirius kidnapped Ron Weasley to get his rat Scabbers, who was in fact, Peter Pettigrew and the secret keeper of the Potters. Lupin turned out to be helping Sirius and stopped me from killing him, snape then tried to get us all arrested, I cursed him, then Lupin transformed. Sirius saved us, and then me and I almost died but Lupin ran off when he heard howling in the distance. About half of Azkaban's dementors then almost sucked our souls out but then a patronus forced them off and I woke up in the hospital wing."
"HA! You said you scared off the dementors!" Walburga screeched at Harry.
"If you'd let me finish," he said coldly. "Me and Hermione used the time turner the DoM had given her, presumably as part of a study of sorts, to go back in time three hours and save the hippogriff, before watching me and Sirius almost get kissed. I ran out of hiding and cast the spell, and the dementors fled. We then got Sirius onto Buckbeak, and he flew off on his back."
"Merlin," Arcturus grumbled, "giving a thirteen-year-old a time-turner. What the fuck is happening to the ministry?"
"This year," Harry began, "I killed at least three or four of the Death Eaters attacking the World Cup. I then found my friends near where it seemed Crouch's elf had cast the Dark Mark." He obviously wasn't going to explain his technical death and rebirth. "I also helped three of my friends enter the tournament by bypassing Dumbledore's age-ward last week."
"Wait, you were the unidentified killer of those bastards?" Pollux chuckled, "Can we keep him Arcturus?"
"Hm, if you did indeed kill those men, you have a decent bounty to collect," Arcturus mused, "But I would use a pseudonym, you would get a decent bit of negative publicity for the act of killing two purebloods and two others."
"True, I know that others who killed that knight have found themselves barred from many of Lucius' lot's businesses." Cygnus chimed in.
"Peverell," Harry said, "Dirix Peverell. My mother's triple-great-grandfather and my father's very distant family name."
"Hm, that could work." Orion mused, "Would make most of the traditionalists panic if they thought a Peverell was after them."
Arcturus let out a laugh.
"Yes, you'll get them shitting themselves, alright," he chuckled, "It even ties in well with what I had planned. To become my direct heir, you must fulfil a task. Should you fail, Sirius will once, again become my heir." Harry nodded.
"What do I have to do?"
"Victory, a political or economic one. Either knock one of our political opponents or challengers down a few pegs or gain the Black Family a sum of seventy-five thousand Galleons from another family. I don't care how you do it or who you do it to, if you get it done, the heir's ring is yours."
"Understood, I will have it done." Harry said, "I'll see it done."
"Good."
"You said something about besting Dumbledore's wards," Cygnus stated, "How?"
Harry grinned.
"Well, which way do you want, the easy or complex way?" he asked.
"If possible, both," Pollux answered in place of his nephew.
"Well, the easy way was using a spell from the Potter family grimoire. It just rips a hole in the ward, and then you just apply a ward-freezing charm, and you have a hole in the wards. The second involved me forming a bit of pure magic into a rod, then skewering the bottom of the ward and lifting it up. Wards are like domes, most go into the floor a couple of inches, but that's usually it.
If you get the rod through the ward, or even just under it, you can lift it up, leaving space to pass underneath without the effects of the ward." Seeing a lack of understanding, Harry summoned an orange, cut it in half and placed one half flat side down on his clean plate. He then stabbed into the side with his fork and raised the edge of the orange.
"Ah, quite ingenious," Pollux said, impressed.
After a little more small talk about Hogwarts, Harry noticed that it was getting late. He had a considerable amount of divination to do, thanks to Ron's attempts at Hitting on Lavender.
"Now, I'm afraid I must take my leave," Harry said, standing up. "The meal was lovely and the company more so, for the most part. I look forward to our next meeting."
"Likewise, it has been a pleasure, Heir Potter," Arcturus said, shaking Harry's hand. I shall escort you to the portkey room."
As they arrived, Arcturus presented Harry with two portkeys.
"This one," he said, holding up a small carved Black Family coat of arms, "Will transport you to the gates of Hogwarts. Whereas this is an emergency portkey." This time, he held up an even smaller wooden Black coat of arms on a pitch-black chain. "It will transport you to one of our safe houses, ripping through anti-portkey-wards as it does. Simply say 'Black security', and you will find yourself in a house in the middle of the Indian Ocean. I will be notified and will come and get you as soon as I am able."
"Got it, I will always have it on me."
"Good. Farewell, and good luck."
"Thank you."
And with that, the portkey ripped Harry away from the Irish Sea and into a blur of colours.
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The following two weeks saw Harry considering how to best complete his given tasks. The first from Death, the second from Arcturus Black. He had done as much research as he could into the topic but had found little of use. Several of the old tomes he had perused had mentioned them, but none would elaborate.
The most he had found out was from Arcturus Black two weeks prior.
Fiendfyre, basilisk venom, and the killing curse. Those were his tools to complete death's bidding.
Surely, the Blacks would have a book or two involving information on them. It seemed death's bidding would have to take the back burner whilst Harry figured out how to even begin going about destroying parts of Voldemort's soul.
"Just have to fuck up a possibly powerful family then," Harry chuckled mirthlessly as he looked up at the bookshelf next to his table in the library.
"Huh?" Neville asked as he passed by on the other side of the bookshelf, his head popping round the corner a moment later. "Did you just say what I think you did?" he asked.
Harry nodded and gestured for him to come closer before he erected a privacy ward.
"Yeah, Lord Black told me to, if I either knock a rival down a few pegs or get a monetary concession to the value of seventy-five grand for him, he'll make me his heir. His sister was my great-grandmother, and his previous heir was my godfather."
"Shit, Harry," Neville whispered, his eyes widening, "That's a lot of power you'll have if he does. Let alone monetary might."
"I know, why do you think I haven't told anyone? Though it would be funny to see Malfoy's face as that power slips through his fingers."
"And how are you planning on getting the concession?" Neville asked.
"I don't know, I was thinking of baiting dear Draco into a duel, list a couple of conditions for if he lost, then wipe the floor with him." I could then get both monetary and political conditions for the thing done at once.
"Hm, yeah I reckon that would work, he is dreadfully easy to bait, isn't he?" Neville commented, "But you'd have to get him to declare the duel, otherwise it won't be seen as a legitimate win, but rather as using magical prowess to gain concessions from an important family."
"Hm, right. Maybe I can get one of the Slytherins in on it, just get them to suggest he just grows a pair and duels me."
"Yeah, I reckon Greengrass would see a plot against coming from a mile off, and who knows what she would do then. If she thought it would be to her gain, she'd sell you out in a heartbeat. Nott wouldn't do it; he's politically risk-averse unless absolutely necessary. Bulstrode is Pansy's version of Crabbe and we can both guess what Draco and Pansy do in their freetime. I reckon in our year, only Davis would do it; she's only gone unharmed because Greengrass made it clear she was off limits, I suppose Nott's aunt being her mother helped too. Without them, she would be in a tough spot where she is."
"Yeah, I thought similar." Harry agreed, "I'll slip her a note in Divination tomorrow, if necessary, I can always just bribe her."
"True."
True to his word, Harry slipped Tracy Davis a note during divination. He simply levitated the note into her pocket, not even having to move from his seat. It simply said that she should head to the abandoned classroom next to the portrait of Frederick the Foolish at five o'clock.
He was a Prussian wizard who had attempted to breed griffins with thestrals to get invisible griffins. He failed at the hurdle of finding a griffin and was then killed by one he had tried to capture himself in Greece.
Harry had signed the note 'a friend'. He had no idea if the girl would show, but he waited inside the room for her.
He was almost surprised when there was a knock on the door, and she entered. Looking around suspiciously she watched him from across the room.
"Potter?" she said, surprised, "Why did you get me to come here?"
"I need your help," Harry answered.
"With what? You're suddenly one of the best in most of our classes, I can't help there."
"No, it's nothing academic. All I want is to know a couple of things," Harry told her.
"Oh yeah? And what's that?" she bit back.
"I want to know if Malfoy has ever openly said he wants to duel me."
"I- what? Why do you want to know that?"
"Call it a personal vendetta," Harry answered.
"I- whatever I don't care. Yeah, he's said a couple of times he wished he could just get you alone on an even field to fight. Always says it after one of those little arguments you two have."
"OK. Do you reckon he'd challenge me to a duel himself?" Harry asked.
"Only if you really pissed him off. Like, I dunno, asked out a girl he liked or something."
"Or if his masculinity was challenged? By, say, a girl?"
"Uhh, maybe. Depends which girl it was who said it- Wait." She looked Harry dead in the eyes, "What is this? A plot?"
"Maybe," Harry answered, "Are you going to tell anyone?"
For a moment Tracy said nothing, just scrutinising Harry.
"No."
"Good. So which girl would it take?"
"Either Daphne, Pansy or one of the older students he's always eyeing up."
"D'you reckon Daphne would say it if it led to him lying in a heap, minus say, one-fifty grand?"
"What's in it for me?" a voice said from behind Tracy.
"Daphne, what're you doing here?" Tracy asked.
"I could ask you two the same."
"We were discussing… things," Harry answered.
"And I came up?"
"You did. I plan on baiting Malfoy into a duel. The stakes will be monetary and possibly a bit of humiliation for the loser. I will win the fight and significant things will happen afterwards. Should you agree to help me set up the trap, I will let you two take some of the winnings and provide you with some inside information which could be major news in the future." Daphne considered the offer, her icy-blue eyes staring into Harry's emerald ones.
"And a favour, a minor one." She demanded.
"Deal," Harry said after a moment, holding his hand out. She shook it. "Pleasure doing business with you."
"Malfoy will have challenged you by the end of the week," Daphne said. Her voice was almost emotionless and cold.
"Today's Friday."
"Exactly. Just give him a singular reason to complain and I'll have him ready for a fight."
"Alright."
"The information?" Daphne asked.
"Once he's challenged me, I'll tell you," Harry said, observing the brief flash of annoyance on the blonde girl's face. She nodded stiffly and then left, Tracy following her out.
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The next day, the selection of the champions was set to take place after dinner. The goblet had been moved from the Entrance Hall to sit in front of the teachers' table, where everyone could see it.
After dinner had passed, a silence fell across the hall as Professor Dumbledore stood and approached the goblet.
"I do believe the Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision." He announced, "Should your name come out, you will come up here and proceed into the adjoining room," he explained, gesturing to a door off to the side of the teachers' table.
Just then, the flames of the Goblet turned a deep ruby and a piece of parchment shot into the air, before fluttering down into the headmaster's waiting hand.
"The Champion for Durmstrang is Viktor Krum!"
The Durmstrang section erupted in applause for the Bulgarian, all cheering and clapping for him with many of the boys and girls from the other schools also clapping along for the popular quidditch star.
As Krum went through the door, the flames ejected another piece of parchment.
"Beaubatons will be represented by Fleur Delacour!"
The applause from the French section was considerably muted compared to that which Krum received. However, as the veela girl stood from the Ravenclaw table, many of the boys turned up their enthusiasm by several notches.
Once she too had shaken Dumbledore's hand, she left through the door, leaving the air of apprehension behind her.
The great hall descended into a dead silence, all tense to find out who would represent their school. As the ruby flames threw a piece of parchment into the air, the tension continued to mount ever more.
"Hogwarts champion will be… Fred Weasley." Dumbledore read out somewhat defeatedly.
There was a moment of silence as everybody in the hall stared at the Weasley twins, who both seemed to be in shock.
"Whoops," Fred said, breaking the moment as the entire hall, except the Slytherins, exploded into applause. The twins were generally well-liked, even if they had caught many in their pranks over the years.
As he rose, it was on Lee's and George's shoulders. They carried him forward until the steps up to the raised dais where the staff ate. Once there, they dropped to one knee, allowing him to dismount with ease.
Dumbledore extended a hand in congratulation, which Fred shook vigorously before exiting the hall.
The applause began to die down, allowing Dumbledore to speak to the rest of the students.
"Now that we-" he broke off as the Goblet next to him once again spewed red flames, this time more violently than before. Eventually, a piece of parchment flew from within, Dumbledore catching it instinctively.
As soon as Harry saw the fourth bout of flames, he had a very bad feeling about what was about to happen. He watched as the headmaster read the parchment before looking down the Gryffindor table.
"Well?" Karkaroff interrupted, "What does it say? Come on spit it out!"
"Harry Potter."
Silence. Nothing but stares, some confused, some angry, some accusing.
"What the fuck?" George sputtered out, "But Harry didn't even want to enter! He said so himself several times."
Several more people murmured in agreement. Harry hadn't made it a secret that he wanted no part of the tournament.
Harry walked forward, barely registering it, as he moved, whispered arguments broke out. Many of his housemates and even others from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw pointed out that he had said several times he wanted no part of it all. Many more, however, seemed to think it was all just a cover for him to get more spotlight.
As Dumbledore shook his hand, and he left the hall, entering the side room, he realised that he now had to compete.
"Fuck."
"Harry? What're you doing here?" Fred asked as he rounded the corner.
"My name came out of the Goblet," Harry answered.
"What, I thought you didn't want to enter, though?"
"I know, I didn't put my name in. I don't care about the tournament."
"But why would you not? Ze fame, ze glory, it is all any should want," Delacour questioned incredulously.
"Do you know who I am?" Harry asked her.
"Oui, you are 'Arry Potter."
"Now name any previous winner of this shit tournament." She said nothing and instead scowled at him, "See, I don't want this."
"But, what about ze money?" Fleur asked, "A zousand is a lot."
Harry simply laughed, as did Krum.
"Potter is very rich family." He chuckled, "Tousand is nothing to zem. Vere he to live like your king, he vood live better."
Before Fleur could retort, there was a commotion as several of the teachers, including all three headmasters, rushed into the room.
"Harry! Did you enter your name?" Dumbledore asked him urgently as the others crowded around.
"No sir."
"Ah, but of course 'e iz lying!" Madame Maxime insisted.
"I would agree," Karkaroff added. "The boy is an attention-seeking brat."
"I see you've been talking to our resident bat," Harry said pointedly. "I'm afraid his tongue is as slippery as his hair is greasy and unwashed."
"How dare you!" Snape interrupted from behind Karkaroff.
"Ah, professor, I didn't see you there, it seems you blended into the shadows there," Harry said cheerfully, much to Fred's amusement.
"Harry, I would ask that you refrain yourself," Dumbledore asked.
"Apologies sir, I was just surprised they were talking, given what they both did at the end of the-"
"Enough! Harry, you have crossed a line." Dumbledore half shouted.
"Sir, as far as I'm concerned, those who would-"
"As far as you are concerned yes, however, you are a minor who is enrolled at this school and throwing around such accusations will only earn you detentions."
"Ah, but wouldn't that count as interfering in a champion's preparations?" Harry objected. "Also, I don't know if you noticed, but seeing as the ministry's stance was that only those of age could compete, would that not make us technically of age?"
This, it seemed, was news to Fred.
"Really?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with glee. "Thanks, Harry, you might have just helped us move up our schedule by a few months."
Barty Crouch then took the opportunity to jump into the situation.
"Either way, the four must now compete," He said before holding up a hand to stop Karkaroff from interrupting, "Seeing as the Goblet has now gone out, it will be impossible to do any sort of reselection. Mr Potter will have to compete under his family's coat of arms, seeing as he was not assigned a school. You will be going into the first task blind; it will test your courage in the face of the unknown. Completing the first task will give you a clue as to what the second task will be. You will be provided with information on the third task after the second. Any questions?"
Fred raised his hand, and Crouch nodded at him.
"I don't have to attend lessons, do I?"
"No, you will be exempt from lessons and end-of-year exams and are permitted to access the library's restricted section. Additionally, you may leave the grounds, if necessary, as well as pursue any activities requiring you to be of age."
"Wicked," Fred murmured, with Harry very much agreeing with him.
Perhaps this would be useful in the long term.
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There you have it, rest of the last chapter. This will probably be the last update this year, so Merry Christmas to you all. For those who don't celebrate it, Happy New Year.
See ya!