A/N:- As I begin this chapter, I find myself at crossroads. Whether to write it in line with all other fics or go completely AU? I know it's a little early, but I feel this is best for my story. Don't worry though. It'll fall back into line with canon soon enough. So, without further ado….

One more thing. Some of you felt it was foolish of Harry to hand over his wand so readily. Of course it was. I wanted to show that he wasn't all-knowing and godlike. Remember, he's just 14 and liable to make rookie mistakes. Besides, his character development still has ways to go.

Chapter 3: The Masked Man.

Mont Blanc, France-Italy (Aug-12-1994)

Mont Blanc or "White Mountain" is appropriately named. The snow that covered the seven summits of the highest mountain in the Alps was as white and unblemished as fresh milk. Indeed, the mountain looked like it was enveloped in a snowy-white blanket. The sun seemed to peek from between the summits as it rose slowly, but magnificently, over what could only be defined as one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world. The stark, cold and gloomy night-time was being replaced by a delightfully panoramic view that a poet would have given one of his limbs for. As if to prove that beauty had no limit, the splendor of the scene was further enhanced by the lush green trees that grew at the base of the mountain. It was no wonder France and Italy constantly squabbled over the ownership of the mountain.

Somewhere in between the snow-capped tip at the top and the lush greenery at the bottom, wedged into the center of the mountain, was an edifice of no mean creation. The architect had taken special pains to ensure the structure did not stand out uncharacteristically but rather blended into the mountain itself. A casual observer would have failed to notice it at all. But that may have been more due to the Fidelus charm on it rather than the architect's skill.

Inside the building, the rooms were spacious and remarkably well-lit, mostly by the sunshine filtering in from the outside. In a corner of one such room, stood Yves Gluant holding what looked like a muggle telephone. Silent, unmoving paintings covered the most of the wall. Antique, fragile pieces of art were arranged tastefully around the room. There was nothing more in the room other than a small shelf, filled with books and an arm-chair nearby. For all intents and purposes, the room could have been a muggle living room, and the man standing in front of the window gazing at the magnificent view outside could have been just a muggle. But they weren't.

He stood at six feet three inches. The closest thing to him was a bull and a strongly built one at that. His muscles rippled under the long trench coat he wore and his bald head shone with a golden light as the sunshine reflected off it.

Gluant was not very successful in keeping his voice level when he spoke- "Caron just checked in. The Death-eaters almost let her get away."

The voice that answered him sounded like it was spoken through a mechanical speaker of some sort. It was ever-so-slightly distorted so that Gluant had to strain his ears to make out what was being said. But for all that, the British-accented voice was calm, almost contemplative.

"What happened?"

"Some boy interfered. Caron says he took out most of the death-eaters on his own. He has been captured by our people."

"A boy? How old?"

"Does it really matter? He is no longer a problem. We have Delacour's daughter and the other veela girl too. We would have had Delacour's wife too, but Caron and his men were attacked by the English aurors and they had to leave her behind."

The man at the window turned. The lower-half of his face was enclosed in a black mask made of some sort of metal. His nose and mouth were covered by it. But it was the eyes that drew Gluant's attention- the intelligence didn't just reflect there; it glowed.

Gluant felt his back touch the wall as the bigger man approached him slowly. Two trunk-like arms were placed on the wall on either side, trapping him in place. He felt a small tremor of terror in his bowels when he heard the mechanical voice again- "Indulge me."

"Caron didn't say." Gluant blurted out. "He only said that they've captured the boy and the two veela girls. They were interrupted before they could secure Delacour's wife. Caron wants to know what to do with them now."

"Bring them here." The masked man said simply.

"A-All three of them?"

"Yes. I want to meet this… boy."

"What about the other veela girl? She's of no use to us. I can have Caron kill her and dispose of her body without any suspicion."

The masked man's voice was as calm as always as he answered- "That would be a terrible waste. And I can think of so many better uses for her. If tries to resist our demands, her body would be a nice incentive for him to fall in line."

-#-

Ministry of Magic, London (Aug-12-1994)

The room was deathly quiet. The men in the room were not politicians who rambled on pointlessly for hours on end. No, these were professionals who didn't see any reason to mince words or mislead their counter-parts in any way. For the biggest conference room the English ministry of magic had at its disposal was occupied by the security chiefs of the world. Each nameplate on the long table bore the names of the person sitting behind them, the position they held and the country they represented. At the head of the table sat Dumbledore. In the chair immediately to his left was Fudge, looking very important in his pin-striped cloak and bowler hat in hand. As the head of the host school and host country respectively, the meeting had been organized by them.

To Dumbledore's right sat Rufus Scrimgeour. The nameplate before him conveyed his position to be the "Head of Auror Department, England". He was followed by the security chiefs of Bulgaria, Russia, China, Brazil and Japan. To Fudge's immediate left was Rodin. The ever-present cigar glowed in his mouth, it's smoke drifting into Fudge's nostrils seemingly causing him great discomfort. The nameplate before him read "Mark Rodin, Minister of Defense, France". Next to him sat a dark man that no one in the room had trouble recognizing. He had been one of the top aurors of America before retiring and joining politics. The ornate nameplate gave his name and position as "Roland Raines, Secretary of Defense, America". The four chairs next to him were filled by the respective defense ministers of Germany, Iran, Spain and Italy.

Owing to the tight schedules of the participants, the meeting had begun at 4 A.M, local time. The displeasure of the early hour congregation was evident in many of their faces, most prominently Fudge's. Dumbledore scanned both sides of the table once before standing up to address them. His cheerful countenance seemed somewhat out of place amidst a room full of grumpy, poker-faced individuals.

"Welcome. I'm sure you are all well aware of why you are here. The revival of the Triwizard tournament means that the eye of the entire world will be on Hogwarts this year. This means, of course, Hogwarts will be seeing a huge intake of people. Apart from the students and professors of the visiting schools, there will be reporters, bookies, guests from your respective ministries, all running around the school with their own agendas. While our ministry has most graciously obliged to provide protection to everyone throughout the year, I'm sure you are all planning to protect your respective delegations in your own way. The purpose of this meeting is to see if we can co-ordinate our efforts so that we don't get in the way of each other." He paused, waiting for a reaction. Apart from a few murmurs, there was none. Dumbledore smiled. It meant that every man and woman in the room understood the gravity of what was being said and appreciated it enough to go with the plan.

The Bulgarian Defense Minister spoke up- "That is all well and good Mr. Dumbledore. But why are they here?" He said indicating the people on his right. "Their countries are not involved in this tournament."

"Perhaps, Minister." Dumbledore answered. "But given the magnitude of the tournament, their respective country heads have decided to send small delegations to attend some of the more important parts of the tournament. It will consist of ministry officials, reporters and such, I assure you."

"But why so many measures? Surely this is somewhat unnecessary. I'm not aware of any of the old tournaments having taken place under this much security."

"For two main reasons, Minister. One, the last tournament took place more than a century ago and second, this tournament is much greater in scale than any of the previous ones. Mar-"

Whatever else Dumbledore was going to say was interrupted by an urgent knock on the door. Dumbledore had barely finished saying "Come in", when Snape stormed in. He reached Dumbledore in three quick strides and whispered in his ear, "You just had a message from Arthur Weasley. The boy is missing from the campsite."

Dumbledore's face remained impassive, but his eyes pierced Snape's like no knife ever could. "What else?"

"He's asking you to come immediately." Snape spoke quickly and quietly for two minutes, explaining the fiasco at the world cup, the death-eaters… "A lot of unconscious bodies were recovered from the clearing, four of them French aurors and one veela, not to mention quite a number of death-eaters. Some of the ministry workers arrived on the scene in time to see three men in French Ministry uniform portkeying away with three captives."

"How did the ministry workers know where to go?"

Snape almost snarled- "They found a muggle girl in the woods and she pointed them or something. Is this really important right now? Shouldn't we be trying to find Potter's whereabouts?"

"Calm down Severus. It could have been anyone, not necessarily Harry. Did Arthur happen to mention if any of them saw who the captives were?"

This time Snape actually snarled- "It is Potter. The little muggle girl was wearing his coat. And there's more. The three men were trying to take the veela woman with them too when our people interfered. She is the wife of Dominic Delacour. The other two captives may have been his daughters."

"Where is Minister Delacour now?"

Snape looked at Dumbledore with a small amount of disbelief and no small amount of venom. Didn't the old man understand what this meant? Why was he so calm and collected? His blue eyes looked neither troubled nor afraid. He could have been asking for the final score of the Quidditch World Cup match.

At that very moment, there was a brisk knock on the door and Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in. Every eye in the room, which had been watching the quiet exchange between Dumbledore and Snape turned to look at him.

Dumbledore took the opportunity to whisper a silent command to Snape-"Please bring Minister Delacour to this room as soon as possible." Then spoke loudly to everyone else in the room. "Ah, this is one of our senior-most aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt. He has been put in charge of the security measures for the tournament. I hope all of your respective security personnel will co-operate with him." There was a general murmur of assent around the table.

Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Excellent. Then I think we have discussed everything of importance. Are there any other questions? If there aren't, then please follow Mr. Shacklebolt to the Auror headquarters. I'm sure he has a number of things to discuss with all of you."

There were no questions. One by one, some of the most powerful men in the world trooped out of the room, followed by Snape. As Rodin and Scrimgeour made to get up, Dumbledore stopped them with a silent request to stay. When the room cleared out, only Dumbledore, Rodin and Scrimgeour were left. Dumbledore waited just long enough for the door to close. When it did, he spoke without preamble-"We have a small problem Minister Rodin…"

-#-

The Burrow (Aug-12-1994)

The hustle and bustle that characterized The Burrow was missing. Hermione looked around the silent kitchen without taking in anything. When they'd found out that Harry had been abducted, Mr. Weasley had brought them straight back to The Burrow, stayed just long enough to assure Mrs. Weasley he would do everything possible to find Harry and left for the ministry, followed immediately by Percy. The mood inside the house now was depressing. Mrs. Weasley had tried to distract herself by cooking lunch. But after she had set fire to her apron for the second time, Charlie had taken over and she now sat at the table looking into the chimney like Harry was gonna tumble out of it any second. The twins sat opposite to each other in the middle of the room without making a noise. Ron sat huddled in the corner of the room looking like he was never going to open his mouth again.

It was Bill who broke the silence. He had been perusing "The Daily Prophet" since they had arrived. "I suppose we should be thankful Rita Skeeter hasn't learned about Harry's kidnapping. Can you imagine the headlines if she did? "Dark Mark appears, Harry Potter disappears". It would be enough to cause widespread panic."

No one answered for a while. Then, Charlie called out from the kitchen- "It still can, if they don't find Harry soon."

Hermione couldn't even bring herself to think about that. Harry had to be found. He was Harry. How could he not be around? She had never imagined a magical world that didn't have Harry in it. It was unthinkable. She couldn't bring herself to stay still any longer with only such depressing thoughts for company. She decided to go and check on Crookshanks.

When she reached the door of the room she shared with Ginny, she heard muffled sniffing from inside. Knowing what this would be about, she wondered briefly whether to knock. But Ginny had known Hermione long enough for her to trust Hermione with her problems. She entered without knocking. Ginny was sitting cross-legged on her bed, silent tears spilling down her cheeks. Crookshanks sat in her lap, happily licking his paws. When he saw Hermione, he jumped out of Ginny's lap and came up to brush against Hermione's leg. Ginny didn't even try to hide the fact she was crying. She just sat there with her hands now folded in her lap, trying to stem the flow of tears.

Hermione went and sat next to Ginny, wrapping her hands around the younger girl's shoulder and drawing her closer. For once, Hermione understood exactly how Ginny felt about Harry. She couldn't think of anything to say. So she just held Ginny tighter and whispered. "He'll be fine. He's Harry."

-#-

Mont Blanc, France-Italy (Aug-12-1994)

Jasmin tried her hardest not to cry out in pain as Fleur bandaged her broken knee with a piece of cloth she had torn from her skirt. She had stopped bleeding but couldn't move her leg either. It didn't help that the leg was bound to Fleur's leg with a chain of unknown material. They were in a dank room with no ventilation. It was lit only by a solitary candle mounted high on the wall. Jasmin thought the room smelled vaguely like something from Marseille. But perhaps she was just missing home. Home. That thought brought tears to her eyes. Would she ever see home again? Her mother?

"We're never going back home, are we?" She couldn't help sound hopeless. There was no one here to help them. Fleur didn't look up until she had finished bandaging the broken leg. When she did, there were tears in her eyes too. This was it. The end of the road. They'd tried their best to escape, but now it was time to face the inevitable. There was only one reason for them to be kept alive. Whoever owned this place, most likely owned them too. And they were probably going to be sold in a black market. She could only hope that they wouldn't be separated.

"It's okay Adri. We'll be fine." Even as she said it, she knew how empty she sounded. She took Jasmin's hand in hers and squeezed tightly. Her lips trembled. She tried to stop herself from saying it, but couldn't. "I won't let them take you away from me."

A memory came rushing back to Jasmin, clear as a crystal, despite the number of years that had passed. It was one of the earliest memories she had. She was five. She and her mother had been running away. She couldn't remember from what- it had been so long ago. They had arrived at the doorstep of the Delacour's family home. Her mother had begged her friend for a little food and lodging for the night. They had been graciously provided with both. She could remember Apolline fussing over the state of her torn clothes and insisting they stay for at least a few days.

Then someone had come into the room. Someone who looked a lot like the blue-eyed teddy bear she was holding in her fat arms. It was Fleur. They had stood staring at each other for a long time. Then…. Fleur held out the teddy bear. With tentative hands, Jasmin reached out and quickly plucked the teddy bear from Fleur's hands, afraid she would change her mind. But Fleur had merely smiled that angelic smile that she only gave her.

When the adults had all gone to bed that night, Jasmin had sneaked into Fleur's bedroom. They had stayed up all night playing and fallen asleep together. Night had turned to day and the time had come for Jasmin to leave. But Jasmin didn't want to leave and Fleur wasn't willing to let her go. Apolline had sided with them and in the end, despite Camille's warnings that taking them in was risky; they had come to stay with the Delacours.

It had been a long time ago, and a lot of things had changed. But in spite of all that, there was a small part of Jasmin that wanted to believe Fleur when she said she wasn't going to let her go. For years now, they had been a source of comfort to each other; they had grown up together, braved the world together. She never wanted to be separated from Fleur. But now…

Not wanting to think any more about being separated from Fleur, she cast around for a change in subject and readily found it at the other end of the chain- for the chain was attached to the leg of the boy who had tried to save them. He was still out cold from the blow to the back of his head. Jasmin mentally flinched as she remembered it. She had let out a shriek at the viciousness of the blow.

"What do you think they're going to do to him?"

Fleur turned to look at him. He was slumped on the floor in a corner where the men who had brought them in had dumped him. He hadn't moved since. Fleur didn't know how to feel towards him. He had risked his life to save theirs. Also, apart from a bit of not-too-polite staring, he had been unaffected by their allure- something she had rarely seen in a boy his age. But years of deep mistrust towards men wasn't going to just disappear. She opened her mouth to say something when she heard footsteps outside the dank dungeon they were in. The iron door opened silently and Fleur found herself staring at a masked man. Fleur found the dark eyes staring back at her to be somewhat familiar and slightly disconcerting. She looked away.

He didn't say a word to them. He simply closed the door behind him, walked slowly towards the still form of Harry, crouched and shook him, neither too roughly nor too gently.

Harry opened his eyes, watching the vague shapes around him slowly coalesce into a stone ceiling, rusted bars of a small window and a masked face nearby. A painful groan escaped from his lips. His entire body was hurting like he had just gone ten rounds with the whomping willow. He tried to push himself off the ground and his head almost exploded in pain. He shook his head, trying to clear his head. It only made it worse.

The masked man produced a vial from within his trench coat and wordlessly pushed it into Harry's hands. Harry didn't drink it. The deathly silence in the room was broken by a distorted voice. Harry realized it was coming more from the mask than the man. "If I wanted you dead, you already would be."

Harry decided it was hard to argue with that logic. He swallowed the green liquid in one short gulp. It was tasteless and immediately stopped his head from swimming, although the pain remained.

He glanced around the room and, for a moment, felt all his pain leave him as his eyes fell upon the two girls at the other end of the room. He hadn't been able see their faces properly in the clearing due to the darkness. But now he could…. Harry forgot to breathe. Or maybe he had never truly appreciated the effort it took to keep breathing. Individually, they would have had him speechless. But together, their combined beauty was haunting. He was breathless.

The masked man's eyes followed his. When he spoke again, his voice sounded amused. "So…..you're the boy that took down multiple death-eaters." It wasn't a question, just a bland statement. "I haven't known many fourteen-year olds capable of doing that."

Harry turned to look him in the eyes. Green looked into dark, each searching the others face for any emotion. There was a long pause before Harry said- "I got lucky."

"Luck is a relative term…..Harry Potter."

Fleur and Jasmin looked at each other, mouths slightly open. Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. How could it be?

Harry's eyes narrowed. There was no point denying it. The man seemed to be sure about his identity. "How do you know who I am?"

"Your headband only hides your scar. The rest of your face resembles James Potter too closely for me to miss."

Harry couldn't stop the surprise from showing in his face. "You knew my father?"

The skin above the mask crinkled. He might have been smiling or grimacing. "In a manner of speaking." Silence followed. Harry was trying very hard not to show any sign of emotion. His head had started to clear slowly and he tried to access the situation. He didn't know where he was, who was holding him or even why. The room they were in looked like some kind of dungeon and he couldn't see any way out. And on top of all that… this man claimed to have known his father. He tried not to think about that. His first priority was to escape.

"Alright, you know who I am. Care to even the field?"

"Klien. My name is Fred Klien." He said nothing more, but simply waited for Harry to speak again.

"Well…Klein. What do you want from me?"

"Until I came to realize your identity, I was rather hoping you would join me."

Harry's mind raced. Perhaps…

"Join you in what? And how does my identity change anything?"

Klein stood up. "A valiant try, Harry Potter. But not nearly good enough to convince me. I suggest you refrain from causing any difficulties while I decide what to do with you." He exited the room. They heard the key turning in the lock and then silence.

Harry looked around at the girls. They were watching him warily. He felt the overwhelming desire to say or do something impressive. He mentally shook himself. This was not the time to be thinking about girls.

"Do either of you know where we are?"

They shook their heads. The motion caused their silky tresses of hair to fly around. Harry tried to recall the last time he had found hair attractive.

"Do either of you know what they want with you?"

They shook their heads again. Harry found the pain in his head increasing in intensity again. "Do you know anything at all?"

Fleur stared back stonily, while Jasmin mumbled out a meek "sorry."

Harry lay back down. "Brilliant."

-#-

A/N:- First things first. My deepest apologies for this unacceptable delay. I know how frustrating it must have been for some of you. Like I said in the first chapter, the story will be completed no matter what. I just find myself with a lack of time. That being said, the next chapter won't take this long.

Sorry for the short chapter, but I really wanted to update on this special day.

Some of you may not have found this chapter exciting. That's all right. I only beg you stick with the story. There are some VERY exciting chapters ahead. I promise.

Throughout the story, you will find a lot of OC's. This is because I believe JKR did not exploit Harry Potter to the full extent, especially Goblet of Fire. I'm not saying I can do better than JKR, just different.

Last and most important, reviews. I really need to know what you guys are thinking and expecting. I want to give a story that everybody can enjoy. So if you can't PM me, please do leave a review. Thank you all.