Chapter 421
Professor McGonagall gestured for them to sit. They took Neville's bed,
Neville sitting on the half-finished letter to his Gran uncaringly.
"Mister Potter's protection reacted when the Goblet attempted to bind him to
it." Professor McGonagall explained gently. "It was likely that the protection
may have succeeded in destroying the Goblet and preventing it from taking
his life and magic with it, but when he learned that such destruction would
endanger the lives and magic of the other Champions, Mister Potter made the
decision to be bound regardless. Unfortunately, the delayed nature of the
binding reacted badly with his magical core. The activation of his protection
has left him exhausted. Doctor Jordan is confident he'll make a full recovery."
"Blimey." Ron muttered.
"Dobby took all of Harry's things." Hermione said almost accusingly.
"Doctor Jordan has indicated Mister Potter will recover better at home,"
Professor McGonagall drew herself up smartly, "I am certain that Lord Black
will make the best decision for Mister Potter's future once he has had a
chance to recover from the immediacy of this evening's events."
Hermione nodded slowly at the underlying message that Sirius needed time to
process Harry being hurt.
"Now, I should go and speak with the other Houses." Professor McGonagall
said briskly, taking down the privacy bubble in anticipation of leaving. "Do not
stay up too late."
They chorused their agreement and she left.
Hermione hated crying but her eyes stung anyway and she felt the sob catch
in her chest, near to her heart. Harry was hurt and gone and she couldn't see
him. She covered her face with her hands, barely aware that either side of her
Neville and Ron shifted uncomfortably in the face of her distress, exchanging
looks to discuss silently who should deal with her.
Ron awkwardly put an arm around her shoulders. "He'll be alright. He's Harry."
"I know." And she did. Harry would recover and be fine and probably would
return to Hogwarts but the memory of him holding her hand so tightly during
the selection of the Champions was vivid in her head.
"He's going to be annoyed when he wakes up because he was…he was
going to ask you out tomorrow." Ron said hesitantly, squirming when she
lowered her hands to stare at him.
"Ron." Neville said exasperated perhaps with Ron spilling the beans but
Hermione understood that this was Ron's way of cheering her up.
Hermione wiped her eyes. "I know that too." She managed a small smile as
she poked Ron in the ribs. "Neither of you are very subtle."
"Well, then…" Ron said flustered. "So you know…he's liked you a while, he
was just waiting to know about the tournament; said it wasn't fair to ask you to
be his girlfriend if you didn't know whether he was about to be…well…"
Hermione swiped at her cheeks to brush away more tears. "I would have said
yes."
Ron gave her a too-hard squeeze but Hermione appreciated the thought.
"I think we all kind of figured you would." Neville said softly.
Hermione glanced at him, smiling. "If you tell me you had a bet with Blaise
about it…"
Neville shook his head hurriedly. "He said it was a sucker's bet to vote for you
saying anything but yes."
And Hermione figured that meant she hadn't been exactly subtle either. Her
cheeks heated a touch.
"What do we do now?" Ron asked after they'd stayed silent a long moment.
Hermione drew in a breath. "We're going to help Harry stay alive and win the
tournament."
Ron nodded. "Right." He frowned. "And how are we going to do that?"
"We need to know everything about the tournament for a start," Hermione
stated firmly. "the likely tasks, all that kind of thing."
"We can get the Potter alliance to help." Neville said. "There are a dozen
families with personal libraries that might have additional information to that in
the Hogwarts' library."
"Spells!" Ron offered. "We should go through the curriculum and make a list of
spells Harry hasn't mastered yet but would have if he was seventeen."
"Good suggestion." Hermione said. She rubbed her head where an ache was
building from the stress of the evening. "I think I'll have an early night, start on
the plan tomorrow."
Neville nodded. "I'll finish writing to my Gran." He grimaced at the crumpled
letter beneath him. "Maybe I'll start again."
"She'll probably appreciate that." Hermione commented. She got up and
smoothed down her robes.
Ron got to his feet. "I'll, uh…"
"You don't need to walk me out to the girls' staircase, Ron." Hermione assured
him. Yes, she'd been upset but she was fine.
He nodded uncertainly.
"Good night, you two."
Hermione made her escape, grateful for how sweet the boys had been but
desperately wanting to get behind the privacy of her bed curtains to come to
terms with the reality of what had happened on her own. She almost ran into
Dean and Seamus as she got to the bottom of the stairs (and realised they
had been hovering waiting for it to be alright for them to head up) and shot
them an apologetic smile before she entered the Common Room.
She didn't linger but she caught sight of Angelina apparently once again laying
the law down to Ginny, Lydia and Jessica. She slowed her step…
Katie Bell appeared beside her and nudged her onward. "Don't worry; the
Quidditch team have got this. We're going to stay in the Common Room and
make sure nobody sneaks out to check on Harry."
Hermione gave a grateful nod and hurried up the stairs to her dorm.
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Chapter 422
As soon as she entered, Lavender and Parvati got up from Lavender's bed to
make their way over to her, and Hermione steeled herself for the usual press
of questions and attempt to gossip – or more scarily, discuss Ron's sexy
attributes. Instead, both girls simply hugged her. Hermione stiffened for a long
moment before allowing herself to relax. Her throat closed up again at their
silent comfort. They weren't close by any stretch of the imagination but their
quiet caring touched Hermione.
Parvati tugged on Hermione's arm. "Come and sit down."
Hermione allowed herself to be led to her bed and she sighed in relief as she
sank to sit on the edge.
"Harry's going to be fine," Parvati assured her, "he's Harry."
"I know," Hermione said softly, "it's just…he can't get a break from it, you
know?"
Lavender nodded back surprisingly serious.
Hermione smiled at the two of girls. "Thank you both for this."
Lavender shook her head. "No need to thank us. I know we're not close,
Hermione, but we – Parvati and I – we like to think we're your friends too?"
Hermione felt incredibly stupid – and guilty for thinking less than nice thoughts
about Lavender and Parvati's gossiping and less than studious behaviour.
Maybe she should make more of an effort to be friendly rather than just
always dismissing them. "Of course we're friends."
They smiled at her again.
Parvati suddenly brushed a hand over Hermione's hair. "You have such great
hair; it's so thick and the colour is fab."
Hermione blinked at her. "It's pretty untameable though. Yours always looks
perfect."
"We could do yours for you if you'd like?" offered Lavender.
"Maybe…" Hermione motioned with a vague hand-wave, "maybe the day
Harry comes back to school?" And she blushed as they both clapped their
hands together in glee.
o-O-o
Draco immediately made his way to greet Professor McGonagall as she
entered the Slytherin Common Room. It was a rare occurrence for the Head
of Gryffindor to set foot in the dungeons never mind the Slytherin heart of it.
"Professor McGonagall, how is my cousin?" Draco asked, knowing the
appearance of being concerned about Harry was critical and tried to ignore
the tug of unacknowledged genuine concern for Potter deep down in his
psyche.
"In a moment, Mister Malfoy," she rapped her wand against the wall,
"everyone! If you could gather round, I won't keep you long."
The Slytherins were quick to move into position; each wanting to know what
was going on.
"Aurors are on the grounds attempting to apprehend the individual responsible
for placing Mister Potter's name in the Goblet." McGonagall said briskly. "Your
curfew has been brought forward and begins immediately for all students for
your protection. Please do not attempt to wander around the school."
"And the status of my cousin?" Draco prompted again.
She looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Mister Potter attempted to resist the
Goblet binding him to the tournament; he was injured. He is in the infirmary
overnight for observation and will return home tomorrow to fully recover."
"He felt the binding?" Marcus Flint growled.
Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes at the Slytherin Captain.
"But only the most powerful wizards…" Philip Adams blanched and shut up.
McGonagall held up her hand. "I suggest you all stay away from the infirmary
should you be tempted to leave the dungeons. Lord Black is with Mister Potter
and is likely to cast first and ask questions later."
She adjusted her stance, something giving in her expression.
"I realise that many of your families have a very different political view from
Lord Potter." The change in designation for Potter brought complete silence to
the gathered Slytherins. "It cannot have been easy for some of you to make
the decision to stand with the rest of the school in support of him this evening
especially given our traditional house rivalry." Her lips twitched. "I commend
your bravery."
Ouch, Draco thought with admiration at her Gryffindorish praise.
"One hundred points to Slytherin." McGonagall said crisply and left before
Slytherin could do more than blink at her in shock.
Chatter broke out immediately.
The Head of Gryffindor had just awarded Slytherin one hundred points.
Flint straightened, silencing the room once more, and pinned Draco with a
frank stare. "Let's not kid ourselves; most of us stood because not to stand
when the press was watching would be the height of stupidity. But just how
powerful is Potter?"
Draco raised an elegant eyebrow refusing to be intimidated and knowing that
his reply was important to his own standing in a way that he had never before
appreciated. "Powerful enough that the House of Malfoy welcomes the return
of a resurgent House of Black and is happy to be under its protection." Slowly
he flicked some imaginary lint off his robes. "It's not just Potter though. Did
you know that Lord Black killed eighteen Death Eaters during his time as a Hit
Wizard?"
There was an uneasy low murmur that rippled over the students.
"Why do you think the Houses of Nott, Wilkes, Gibbon and Selwyn have
sought a détente?" Draco waved a hand at Theo who simply smiled
enigmatically. "They don't want their Heirs killed when Black hunts down
anyone who threatens ours, and he will hunt them down."
He flicked his wrist as he adjusted his cuffs. "Potter and I may not have the
best history but Malfoys will always choose the winning side." He motioned at
Flint. "You may have stood this evening because it was politically expedient; I
stood because I fully intend to support Potter as he wins this tournament and
defeats the bastard who thinks it'll kill him."
"There are rumours, Malfoy." Flint barked. "Rumours that the Dark Lord is
rising again and the death threats are at his instigation."
Draco let his gaze travel around the room. "Longbottom was right this
evening; the House of Potter will consider itself at war and by extension, so
will the House of Black. Regardless of my previous point that Lord Black is
fully capable of killing anyone who would stand against Potter, personally I'd
rather stand with Potter than beside a son of a muggle proclaiming to be a
Dark Lord fit to rule us all just because he's all that's left of the Slytherin line
and has delusions of grandeur."
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Chapter 423
He felt a thrill at the number of shocked faces looking at back at him.
"A son of a muggle?" Millicent Bulstrode's nostrils flared. "You lie!"
"Look up the genealogy of Thomas Marvolo Riddle." Draco said firmly and
dismissed her with an impatient hand-wave. "Perhaps it's time everyone
considers that Potter defeated the Dark Lord when he was a baby; he
defeated Quirrell who was possessed by the Dark Lord when he was eleven;
he killed a sixty-foot basilisk at twelve; he has a fully formed patronus at
thirteen," and wasn't that an embarrassing memory of him being chased down
by said patronus when he'd pretended to be a Dementor, "who knows what
he's capable of doing now? Did you know that Potter talks to our House family
magic totem, a silver cobra? It loves him."
He was pleased to see how unnerved most of them were as he turned for the
stairs. The Slytherin dorm was quiet and he sank onto his bed in relief.
Nott entered first. "Zabini's observing. I'm in the service to the House of Potter
so I'm not considered trustworthy; nobody was going to say anything
worthwhile if I stayed."
Draco nodded. "You have a theory on who entered him into the tournament?"
"So do you." Nott said. "Had to be someone with opportunity based on
Moody's lessons, so it was someone who nobody considered to be a threat
and therefore was allowed near to the Goblet."
"My thoughts exactly." Draco said. He wondered about Karkaroff, knowing the
man's history.
"The Initiation Ceremony dictates when candidates can be entered so it had to
be sometime after that." Nott continued. "Or within the ceremony itself. That
means it was either Crouch, Bagman, Karkaroff, Maxime or Dumbledore.
Moody observed only, I think, so someone would have noticed if he threw in a
name."
"Bagman is an idiot."
"An idiot with gambling debts with goblins but he doesn't have any other
motive." Nott mused. "And presumably the identity checks would have turned
up something if it wasn't actually Bagman?"
"Maxime has no motive, Karkaroff does; didn't Crouch do their identity checks
just on arrival and then they have diplomatic dispensation?" Draco mused out
loud.
"It would mean that Karkaroff would have been replaced between arrival and
the ceremony." Nott pointed out. "With Moody's patrols and security
measures, how likely is that?"
"You have another candidate?"
Nott shrugged. "Crouch had the most opportunity and he has a grudge
against Lord Black."
Draco nodded. "I guess we'll see when they release the identity of whoever it
is to the public."
"I'll talk to Longbottom tomorrow." Nott said. "There's no way that somebody in
Potter's inner group won't know."
"How do you think it'll play out?" Draco waved towards the door.
"I find it amusing that most of their parents haven't informed them about the
identity of the Dark Lord." Nott admitted. "But it'll sway the majority of them
especially once Bulstrode finishes her research and informs everyone of the
truth." He looked at Draco contemplatively. "Your comments about Potter's
potential and his power were well-judged; it may help sway others. Some
won't have a choice either way."
Draco nodded. "What do you think the rest of the school will do?"
"The Potter alliance is going to snap tightly around Potter that's for sure." Nott
said dryly. "As far as Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw go…it depends on how much
influence the alliance members are willing to exert. Hufflepuff has an issue
with Diggory since he's also a Champion. He's essentially competing against
Potter."
"Diggory isn't a match for Potter." Draco commented. Potter did have
incredible magical prowess; his practical skills the entire two months they'd
been back at Hogwarts were far beyond fourth year level except in Potions
and there he had to contend with Snape's biased view of not just Potter but
Gryffindors in general.
"Then you intend to back Potter in the tournament?"
Draco raised an eyebrow in response as though the question wasn't worthy of
a verbal reply.
Nott smirked at him. "Just checking." He made for his trunk. "I should prepare
a letter for my father."
It was a wise decision. Draco moved to find his own writing supplies. He
briefly wondered about Potter injured and in the infirmary, of Lord Black
keeping watch over him. Perhaps, Draco mused, in addition to his own
parents, a letter to Lord Black informing him of events in the Slytherin
Common Room would also be appreciated.
o-O-o
Amelia grimaced as she almost lost her balance apparating to Bartemius
Crouch Senior's home. When the Crouches' had lost their Wizengamot seat
due to a scandal which was shrouded in secrecy, the old Crouch mansion had
been lost in a massive fire. The family had retreated to what had been a
residence for holidays, for those sworn to service…but an abode never
intended to be a family homestead.
Lit up with the bright lights of the Magical Forensics Unit, Amelia couldn't help
but see the crumbling façade and dirty windows; the air of desperation that
called out from every angle.
Rufus strode up the garden path towards her. She erected a privacy bubble
when he stopped, grim and determined as he met her eyes.
"Crouch Senior is dead." Rufus said bluntly. "Cutting hex to his jugular;
paralysis hex prevented him from moving. He bled out."
Amelia closed her eyes at the confirmation of the death. She'd known
intellectually it was likely he would be found dead but…she sighed and
focused. Barty had been a hard boss to work with and a prickly colleague.
She regretted his death but couldn't say she mourned his passing.
"We found Mickle's body beside him." Rufus said. "I don't think they kept her
in case of needing more amniotic fluid but for sport from the looks of her. She
died from the Killing Curse. Forensics say there were two different
perpetrators given the magical residue."
"We already know Voldemort is likely travelling with at least Pettigrew, Crouch
Junior, Greyback and Travers. Any of them could have performed the spell
although Greyback would have just broken her neck." Amelia mused out loud.
"There's some evidence that Voldemort and Pettigrew were in residence in
one of the bedrooms." Rufus grimaced. "We found traces of the advanced
Polyjuice in the kitchen. Forensics was going to get it to a lab, see if they can
come up with a counter."
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Chapter 424
"Good." Amelia was pleased at that.
"There's no sign of where they've gone." Rufus said. "Greyback's pack is a
possibility."
"I'll ask Remus to make some inquiries." Amelia conceded. "But from what he
has already said about the pack's willingness to follow Greyback in the matter
of Voldemort this time around…I don't think we'll find him with the werewolves.
If so, I think we can expect to hear the new location via Remus."
"You think Voldemort has another bolt hole?" Rufus asked.
"They're all Death Eaters. I think all of them had other locations to run to if
their positions became untenable for whatever reason." Amelia said, mulling
over likelihoods in her head. "Travers is too new to the group. I would think
Voldemort considers him on probation so him trusting Travers to organise
their next location seems unlikely."
"Greyback's brawn not brains." Rufus chimed in. "Like you said, we'll know
soon enough if he has taken up with Greyback's pack but it seems unlikely."
"Pettigrew…Pettigrew's charged with Voldemort's safety and meeting his
needs. He's a possibility." Amelia said. "Sirius and Remus would be the best
sources of information on his life prior to being a rat."
"Crouch Junior is also an option." Rufus pointed out grimly. "He's had free run
of the wizarding world this last few months without anyone being on the
lookout for him."
"Get the Rat Squad focused on dissecting Junior's entire life up to his
incarceration." Amelia said briskly. "Severus Snape may have information to
offer. He spent some time with the LeStranges while Junior was involved with
Rabastan."
"Is there a possibility Voldemort himself has somewhere?" Rufus asked.
"Other than Little Hangleton?" Amelia considered it and sighed. "Perhaps. I'll
check with Bertie. It's possible that there are locations he's considered for the
treasure hunt that may be relevant to us."
"What's the official position on this clusterfuck?" Rufus said bluntly.
"A statement has already been released to the press that the person behind
the death threats has been identified as Bartemius Crouch Junior." Amelia
sighed heavily. "That posing as his father, who conspired in his escape from
prison, Junior managed to enter Harry Potter into the Tri-Wizard Tournament.
Junior is considered armed and dangerous, etcetera, etcetera…" She
grimaced. "Cornelius is assigning a Special Auditor to examine the
Department to see what chaos Junior may have done in his father's place.
We're all of the opinion that he couldn't do anything to majorly screw things up
since he didn't want to draw attention to himself but minor things?"
"Speaking of minor things," Rufus said, "I've sent Shacklebolt to the Weasleys
to make an assessment of Percy Weasley. It's possible Junior had him under
the Imperius."
"Good idea." Amelia said but she didn't think it was probable. She motioned at
the house. "Anything else to report?"
"Not yet." Rufus said.
Amelia gazed up at the house again. "Take it all apart, brick by brick. I want
everything examined." Her lips firmed. "We're going to catch these bastards."
o-O-o
The bang on the door was almost a relief for Bill as he sat tensely in his
parents' living room, sipping a Firewhiskey, and trying hard to ignore Percy
prattling on about the Tri-Wizard tournament and how important Mister Crouch
was to the whole affair.
His father got up and went to answer the door, a small frown on his freckled
face as he registered the visitors were Aurors. "Yes?"
"Senior Auror Shacklebolt and Auror Tonks, Mister Weasley." The deep
baritone echoed through the Burrow. "We need to speak to your son,
Percival?"
Bill glanced at a surprised looking Percy. His mother got to her feet, concern
already starting to appear on her homely face.
"I wonder what this is about." Percy said out loud, giving away his own
insecurity as their father ushered the Aurors into the room. Bill recognised the
older Auror from his work with at the DOM. He took in the sight of a serious
looking Tonks with concern; she had gone to school with Charlie and he'd
renewed his acquaintance with her through the various Black family events;
she was usually very bubbly and friendly.
Shacklebolt's dark eyes landed on Percy with unerring accuracy. "Percival
Weasley?"
Percy stood up. "Yes, that's me."
"If we can speak to you in private, Mister Weasley?" Shacklebolt said formally.
"I'm sure that's unnecessary." His mother cut in. "We're family."
"It's official business, Mrs Weasley." Shacklebolt said.
Percy frowned at his mother before turning back to the Auror. "Perhaps we
should go to my room? We'll have privacy there."
"Tonks, you stay here." Shacklebolt ordered. "After you, Mister Weasley."
Bill wanted to protest as the tall Auror followed his brother out of the room. He
exchanged a worried look with his father.
"This is silly," his mother said brusquely as Bill's father put an arm around her
to comfort her, "can't you tell us anything about what this is about?" She
gestured at Tonks.
Tonks shifted her weight, a regretful look of awkwardness crossing her
features as she shook her head. "Senior Auror Shacklebolt will explain when
he returns."
Bill's mind raced with speculation. Shacklebolt wasn't formally part of the Rat
Squad but he was leading the investigation into the pregnant women and was
associated with the search to find them, the suspicion it was Pettigrew and an
unknown associate behind the abductions. It was likely then that the visit to
Percy had something to do with that.
But what, Bill mused, rubbing his chin. He ignored his mother offering
refreshments to Tonks as he considered the problem.
He truly believed that the Auror's couldn't suspect Percy of actually helping to
abduct pregnant women. It wasn't just brotherly loyalty but just an
understanding of Percy's own character. But if they were questioning him then
it left three possibilities; firstly, that Percy wasn't Percy.
Bill ran over the conversation from dinner. Percy had been fixated on his work
but he had joined in a discussion about the play about Merlin and the Dragons
that Bill was going to take Alicia to see, and which Percy had already seen
with Penny. He also vaguely recalled a rejoinder that had Percy poking fun at
something in Bill's childhood so, Percy was Percy.
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Chapter 425
Not polyjuiced then.
Imperiused? That was the second option.
Bill sent an anxious gaze towards the stairs. He would have noticed if Percy
was under an Imperio spell. Wouldn't he? His brother's behaviour – his
workaholic tendencies and his adoration of Barty Crouch – was irritating but
not prompted by anything other than Percy's own ambition. He was certain of
it. But there was a sliver of doubt sliding through his veins that had him
avoiding his father's keen gaze.
No, Bill considered with more confidence. He was sure he would have spotted
something in Percy's demeanour if his brother was being controlled by a spell.
All of which left the third option for the Auror's visit; that they wanted to
question Percy about somebody else's behaviour – someone in the
Department – maybe even Crouch…
But wasn't Crouch supposed to be at Hogwarts dealing with the Tri-Wizard
Tournament?
The tournament!
The thought smacked into him like a bludgeoning spell. His eyes widened as
he realised something must have happened at the tournament and the
naming of the Champions. Had Harry been named Champion? Did they
suspect Crouch?
He shifted restlessly, wanting desperately to grab his communication mirror so
he could talk with Sirius and knowing that if Harry had been entered, Sirius
would be at Hogwarts dealing with the fallout. Maybe there was another way
to confirm his suspicions.
He cleared his throat and caught Tonks' eye. "The tournament?"
Tonks winced and gave a small nod.
"Harry was named as a Champion?" Bill continued.
Tonks moved her weight, rocking from one foot to another. "I shouldn't say
anything else, Bill."
That was a yes then and they suspected Crouch…
Crouch!
Bill had never liked the stuffy man but he had never pinned him for someone
who would join up with the likes of Voldemort. But then hadn't his son become
a Death Eater in the last war? Maybe that and the knowledge that he had
screwed up any hopes of a political career with his wrongful incarceration of
Sirius had caused Crouch to have a mental breakdown. Maybe.
Footsteps on the stairs had them all turning expectantly.
Percy was pale under his freckles and their mother immediately moved to his
side, glaring at the Auror behind him.
"Auror Shacklebolt," Bill's father said briskly, "I can appreciate this is official
business but as Bill has rightly guessed this has something to do with events
at the tournament this evening, perhaps you can give us an overview? This
family is allied with Lord Potter. I can assure you that whatever you tell us will
go no further than these four walls."
Shacklebolt sent Tonks a chiding look but nodded slowly. "The news will be in
the press by morning so I can tell you this much: Lord Potter was named as a
fourth Champion by the Goblet of Fire earlier this evening. It was surmised
that Bartemius Crouch was the only one with opportunity to interfere with the
Goblet. However, his body was found in his residence approximately an hour
ago."
"Oh goodness!" His mother raised a hand to her mouth in horror.
"Upon inspection, it's clear that he'd been held hostage for a while, possibly
dating back to the notification that he had Wizard's flu." Shacklebolt
continued. "As he passed the identity checks upon return from sick leave, we
think the only explanation is that his son, Bartemius Crouch Junior, took his
place using Polyjuice."
"But he's dead!" His mother exclaimed.
Shacklebolt shook his head. "We don't know how but we have found evidence
that suggests Crouch was keeping the son locked up in the basement prior to
the reversal of who was the hostage."
Bill frowned heavily, his mind racing as he worked out the sequence of events.
"It was Junior at the World Cup? He was the one who attacked the Potter
alliance tent and set ours on fire."
His father's mouth dropped open a touch but snapped shut again, anger
replacing the shock on his face. "Is that true?!"
"We believe so," Shacklebolt said cautiously, "but all I can say is that an arrest
warrant has been issued for Bartemius Crouch Junior which includes
suspicion of being involved with the events at the World Cup."
"He's still at large?" His mother said anxiously.
His father hurried over to wrap an arm around her comfortingly again.
Shacklebolt nodded unhappily. "He and his associates escaped."
"Associates?" His father questioned sharply.
"Pettigrew at the very least." Shacklebolt said and held up a hand. "I really
can't tell you anything more."
Percy sank into a chair, his gaze a blind glaze of shock. "I can't believe it."
"Thank you for letting us know as much as you have, Auror Shacklebolt." His
father said stiffly.
Bill glanced at his parents and gestured towards the front door. "Why don't I
show you out?" He led the Aurors outside, stepping out himself for a moment,
closing the door behind him. "Is Harry alright?"
"Magical exhaustion," explained Tonks quickly before Shacklebolt could say
anything, "he'll be right as rain in a couple of days. Sirius has put Black Manor
on lockdown though since the healer said he can take him home to recover."
"Can't say I blame him." Bill sighed, pushing a hand through his hair.
Tonks gave him a sympathetic smile but turned to Shacklebolt and a moment
later the two Aurors had disapparated.
Bill headed back into the house. His mother was bustling in the kitchen
making tea; his father was talking in a low voice to Percy by the fireside.
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Chapter 426
Percy glanced up at Bill and flushed. "They were checking to see if I was
imperiused!"
"Ah." Bill sat down on the sofa across from his brother. "I'm sure it was just a
precaution since you've been in close contact with him."
"I should have realised that he wasn't Mister Crouch!" Percy said shakily. "I
mean, he hardly acknowledged me the first few months but he was so
complimentary to me when he came back after the flu…so supportive of my
career goals and…I thought he just appreciated all the help and information
I'd given him when he was sick!" He groaned and dropped his head into his
hands. "Merlin, I was the one who told him about Harry's party here and the
security arrangements at the World Cup!"
"It wasn't your fault, Percy." His father patted Percy's shoulder. "Nobody knew
it wasn't Crouch. I'm sure Cornelius, Amelia and Rufus told him additional
details or asked for his advice about the Cup. You weren't to know."
"I should have known!" Percy's head snapped back up. "You were all almost
killed and I…" he lurched out of his seat and stormed out, clattering up the
stairs and into his room; the door slamming shut and echoing throughout the
Burrow.
"What did you say to him?" His mother demanded angrily.
"Nothing." Bill answered before his father. "Percy's doing a fine job of blaming
himself." And Bill knew in his position he'd do the same. Percy had effectively
been feeding their enemy information that could have killed their family for the
past few months – unknowingly, yes, but feeding him information all the same.
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
"Poor Percy." His mother cast a look up the stairs.
"Leave him be, Molly." His father said, sitting down heavily in the vacated
chair. "He needs some time to come to terms with it."
Bill jerked his thumb towards the door. "I should head to Hogwarts and see if
Sirius needs anything."
His father nodded briskly in agreement. "Let him know that he has our
support; anything he needs…anything at all, he just has to ask."
He left with a hug from his mother and an admonishment to stay safe. Bill
pulled on his leather jacket and, as soon as he was clear of the Burrow,
apparated to Hogwarts.
o-O-o
Severus knocked back the glass and felt the familiar burn of mellowed alcohol
hit the back of his throat as the sharp scent of peat and barley filled his
nostrils. He poured himself another glass and knocked that back too as his
mind drifted back to the antechamber and Potter's astonishing magic.
Lily.
Lily.
He closed his eyes and placed a hand over his brow as he brought up the
memory; the shift of the golden Potter griffin into the familiar lines and form of
Lily Potter. She had been a glowing golden spirit. She had been magnificent.
Untouched by the ravages of time, still beautiful, still stronger in her beliefs
than anyone he had ever known.
Grief stirred inside of him again, familiar and painful.
She hadn't looked in his direction once.
The spirit of Lily had been totally focused on her son, on protecting him. The
image of her wrapped around her child…would she have held him the same
way if she had lived?
Undoubtedly.
Would she have ignored Severus if she had lived?
Undoubtedly.
He was responsible for leading the Dark Lord to target her son, to kill her
husband. And the hard truth was that Lily had not lived.
She had not lived.
If he had only kept the prophecy to himself…if he had only realised sooner the
error in judgement he had made in joining the Death Eaters…
Severus knocked back another drink.
When Black had confronted him with the knowledge that Black knew it had
been Severus who had told the Dark Lord the prophecy, Severus had felt
sucker-punched. In some ways, he would have preferred Black to have
reverted to form and beaten him bloody rather than being subjected to the
look of complete disgust and the harsh, truthful words that had cut like a knife.
"…you are the reason why he doesn't know her; why the only memory of her
he has is of her dying to save him."
Because hadn't that been the truth that he had avoided recognising for many
years? Yes, it was far easier to blame the boy, the child, for existing; for being
born with the power to vanquish Voldemort and so placing Lily in danger,
causing Lily's death because she had died to protect her child; far easier that,
than for Severus to accept the truth that he was at fault; that it was his own
want to please a Master who cared nothing for him or any of his followers had
ultimately started the chain of events which had led to her death.
It was Severus's fault Lily had died; Severus's fault that her son had only a
spirit to protect him and not Lily herself.
Black was right about that and wasn't that galling?
He ignored the glass and took a swig from the bottle.
He shook his head.
Black had also ignored Severus during the events in the antechamber; he had
also been focused on Potter to the exclusion of all else. Despite their history,
Severus acknowledged that Black was a devoted father.
But once again they had all failed to protect the boy sufficiently.
Severus had failed to protect Potter. Again.
Why, why, why hadn't he understood that his memories had been hidden only
because of Crouch Junior? Why had he assumed the presence of someone
else? He had been so stupid.
He gave a small growl and took another gulp of alcohol.
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Chapter 427
He rubbed his eyes tiredly.
A loud bang on the door to his quarters almost made him drop the bottle he
held. He settled for slamming it onto a nearby table and stalking over to the
door. If it was a student, he was going to verbally eviscerate them for being
out after curfew. He flung the door open and stared blankly at the sight of a
glowering Moody.
"Why the dickens did you run off?" Moody snapped, pushing inside the room
before Severus could stop him.
"Director Croaker had enlisted the help of Remus Lupin." Severus said tersely.
"My presence was no longer required."
"It isn't a popularity contest, lad." Moody's magical eye whirled around the
room. "Throwing yourself a pity party?"
"I checked on the students under my care," and found the Slytherin Common
Room to be immersed in debate that he had effectively broken up with his
entry and which had no doubt resumed on his exit, "and I decided to retire for
the night." He breathed in sharply. Why was he explaining himself?
Moody sat down abruptly and conjured a glass. "You could at least share."
Severus was torn between outrage at Moody's presumption and…and some
strange feeling of comradeship. He poured Moody a glass and summoned his
own non-verbally to pour himself another. He sat down on the sofa.
Moody drank his whiskey, stared at the bottle in approval and placed the glass
down with a small thud on the table. "It wasn't your fault."
"My memories…" Severus said stiffly.
"You couldn't have known that the only person within them of interest was
Crouch Junior. You still have some to sort through don't you?" Moody pointed
out brusquely.
"I should have gone to the mind healer as you suggested." Severus
confessed, guilt surging through him and making his stomach roil. "If we had
known there was no other involved with the LeStranges…"
"We might have concluded that it was a dead end since Junior was dead."
Moody huffed. "Your subconscious probably knew; that's why you had the
dead Death Eaters listed."
Severus glared at him. "You're not helping."
Moody picked up the bottle and poured himself another glass. He swirled the
amber liquid around. "Senior's dead."
"His usefulness had come to an end." Severus murmured. The Dark Lord
thought nothing of discarding people.
"They found one of the missing women." Moody noted in a clipped voice that
gave away her condition more than a graphic explanation would have done.
Severus nodded gravely.
"Amelia wants copies of your memories on the LeStranges to give to the
Aurors; we're trying to see if we can't find where they've run to hide." Moody
said bluntly.
"She shall have them." Severus thought it was the least he could do.
Moody nodded. "Good. I told her we'll be in first thing before breakfast."
"We?" Severus's eyebrows rose in faint surprise.
"We." Moody said firmly.
Severus knew he should protest that he would go alone, that he didn't need
someone to hold his hand when he was questioned by Aurors, but instead he
inclined his head, his dark hair falling forward.
"I would also appreciate the recommendation for the mind healer you
previously suggested." Severus said. "It would be beneficial to retrieve the
rest of my memories quickly."
Moody grunted his agreement, raised his glass and tipped the alcohol down
his throat. He set the glass down and got to his feet. "I expect you on guard
duty in the infirmary immediately."
Severus's eyes widened in alarm. "What?"
"Three hour shifts; you're taking the first one." Moody stated blithely
continuing without any acknowledgement of Severus's outrage. "Potter's
healing means no students near his room. Some of the little buggers are
bound to test that and Black's as likely to kill them as he is to send them
packing."
Severus simply stared at him.
"You'll want a sobering potion before you take your post." Moody said and
limped out.
For a long moment, Severus swore roundly at the DADA Professor before he
accepted that he should take a sobering potion and do his duty. Moody was
probably right about Black's frame of mind and the students' likely behaviour.
Five minutes later, he left his quarters and walked briskly towards the
infirmary. He turned a corner and almost barrelled straight into Lupin. The
werewolf stepped back to avoid the collision and Severus's lip curled upward
as he registered Lupin's superior reflexes.
"My apologies, Severus." Lupin said politely. "Are you on your way to the
infirmary?"
"Professor Moody was insistent that I take a shift to prevent Black killing any
of the students." Snape snapped as they both began walking again,
unfortunately in the same direction.
Lupin smiled sadly. "I can't say I blame Moody for his vigilance in the
circumstances and Sirius…" he shook his head and focused on Severus
instead. "Are you alright after…?"
Severus bristled. "I am fine. There is no reason for me not to be alright,
Lupin."
Lupin hummed. "The first time the spirits appeared I spent most of the
evening thinking of everything that I wanted to say to Lily and wishing I could
have spoken to her just for a moment."
Severus stopped abruptly. "It's happened before?"
"Yes," Lupin said softly, "but the event was deemed need-to-know, just like
this evening." His scarred face took on a chagrined air. "I suppose we
shouldn't be talking about it."
"Especially as one of us is under a vow." Severus pointed out beginning to
walk again.
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Chapter 428
"You're not to talk about it with people who were not present." Lupin rejoined.
"I was there."
Severus considered it for a long moment but finally his curiosity was too great;
he had to ask. "Did she…was she so focused on Potter the last time?"
"Yes." Lupin said. "But that's the nature…" he drew them to a halt and
provided a privacy charm, "Lily cast an ancient spell to protect Harry; one
based on Wiccan magic, the Old Religion."
"Which explains the presence of Morgana Le Fey; she was a High Priestess
within the Old Religion." Severus said.
"Perhaps," Lupin admitted, "Bertie and I believe that at the moment Lily cast
the spell, the Potter family magic was called to help power it, and somehow,
Lily's sacrifice of life and magic became one with the family magic just as
each Head of House and Heir of House are bound to it."
"Her spirit was consumed by the family magic?" questioned Severus sharply.
"In a way," Lupin said gently, "we believe the family magic recognised her
sacrifice and honoured her by allowing an imprint of her essence to remain
within it. It super-powered the spell."
Severus nodded slowly.
"But her last act was protecting her son; the reason for her being part of the
Potter family magic is because she protected her son." Lupin continued. "She
has only been called forth by Harry when he has been in need of protection."
"I see." Severus said trying to keep the sadness out of his voice. He studied
Remus for a brief moment. "I am…grateful for your explanation." He said
stiffly.
"I understand, Severus, and I do remember how close you were to her at
school." Remus said. "She regretted the loss of your friendship quite keenly."
Severus stared at the werewolf in shock. "You can…you are not aware…" he
lifted his hand briefly. "I was responsible for her death."
Lupin looked at him sharply. "Voldemort struck her with the Killing Curse. He
is the one responsible for her death."
"Then Black didn't tell you…"
"That you were the one who gave Voldemort his reason for being there. Yes. I
know about that."
And there was the disapproval and dislike he'd been waiting to hear from
Lupin since they had begun speaking.
"I was there when Sirius found out and I admit that there are days I'd like to
hex you for it, but then…" Lupin sighed wearily as he pushed a hand through
his hair, "all of us played a part in the events leading to that night. You think
Sirius doesn't blame himself constantly for encouraging James to go with
Peter as his Secret Keeper? Or that I don't blame myself for letting my spying
with the packs interfere with my friendships with James and Sirius to the
extent that they mistrusted me and didn't choose me instead?"
Severus blinked as he absorbed Lupin's words.
"You made a mistake, a bad one." Lupin said strongly. "No matter who it was
that the prophecy referred to, you had to know telling Voldemort was giving
them a death sentence and any who stood between them." He drew in a
breath. "But I figure when you found out it was Lily's child; when Lily died
because of the sequence of events you telling him began…I'm sure there's
not a day that goes by that you don't blame yourself for her death, Severus,
and frankly, I couldn't come up with a better punishment for you than that; you
simply having to bear the knowledge of what you have done."
Once again, it felt as though he'd been sucker-punched; all the breath left his
body. Lupin's words lacked the vitriol of Black's but perhaps they stung deeper
because of that.
Lupin dismantled the privacy charm and they set off again.
"I sometimes wish Lily and James had gone ahead with the portrait that
Charlus wanted them to do after the wedding." Lupin said breaking the silence
as they neared the doors to the infirmary.
"Why did they refuse?" Severus asked idly, at once regretting as Lupin did the
lack of a portrait, and yet at the same time wondering if he would have been
able to bear it if one had existed.
"I'm not certain." Remus admitted. "I think possibly both of them thought that
they were too young."
Severus inclined his head. It would have been just like Lily. She had always
loved life so much; to have believed that she wouldn't live a long and happy
life would have been an anathema to her.
Severus was so preoccupied that he unthinkingly followed Lupin into the small
private room. He froze just inside the doorway at the sight of Potter, prone on
the bed with his hands bandaged. Black was camped out on the far side,
surrounded by folders and pieces of parchment, yet one hand remained on
Potter's arm, maintaining contact with his…his son.
Severus recalled Lupin's admission that both he and Black suffered guilt
about the deaths of the Potters, about the death of their best friend. Severus
stared at Black. It would have been easy for Black to have done the same as
he, Severus mused, to have buried his own guilt and self-hatred, and blamed
the child. But Black had done no such thing. Instead Black loved the boy
fiercely; would gladly have accepted the pain and hurt Potter had suffered as
his own, that was evident after the events in the antechamber. He had derided
Black's position as Potter's godfather but perhaps James Potter had been
right to give Black the honour; perhaps James Potter had known that
regardless of whatever happened Black would love his son unconditionally.
Severus wondered if he and Lily had remained friends, if he had been Potter's
godfather…
Black barely looked up as Lupin entered but he did a double take as he
spotted Severus. Black frowned as Lupin conjured up a chair.
"How is he?" Lupin asked. "Did Doctor Jordan manage to speak with Noshi?"
"His core will be fine." Black said with visible relief. "Noshi thinks it's just the
scarring that's made it unhappy. He believes based on knowledge of the
Goblet's interaction with previous Champions that the magical renewal won't
affect his power levels."
"Good." Lupin said happily.
Black's eyes flickered back to Severus and he was clearly about to demand
why Severus was there when Lupin spoke again.
"We've been asked to talk with the Aurors about Peter. They think him or
Crouch are responsible for deciding where next to hide so want our insights
into Peter." Lupin said.
"I believe I've been asked to provide my memories of my time with the
LeStranges and Crouch for a similar reason." Severus said, understanding
Black's look of distaste at having to talk about Pettigrew. "Moody and I are
going tomorrow morning."
"Thank you." Black said tersely. "If we can find them…"
Severus nodded sharply, knowing that if Black found Crouch Junior or
Pettigrew, nothing would stop him from killing them.
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Chapter 429
A knock on the door had them both turning to find Bill Weasley stood in the
doorway.
"Bill," Black gestured for him to enter, "I take it you heard the news?"
"Shacklebolt and Tonks turned up to check Percy wasn't imperiused."
Weasley explained succinctly. He pointed at Harry. "How is he?"
"Exhausted." Black replied. "But he'll live. How's Percy?"
"Suddenly regretting how helpful he's been to Crouch Junior over the last few
months." Weasley sighed heavily. "He's very upset about it all."
Severus swallowed the harsh retort that jumped to mind.
"Nobody realised it was him or suspected anything." Black grimaced. "More's
the pity."
Weasley nodded. "What are these?" He picked up a file.
"My grandfather's files on the LeStranges, Crouch Senior and Crouch Junior."
Black stated succinctly. "Maybe there's a clue somewhere in here about
where he would have gone."
"Dear Merlin!" Lupin said, looking at the vast amount of information. "This is
going to take us years."
"I can help." Weasley offered.
Severus hesitated but plunged ahead anyway. "Perhaps I may also assist
you?"
Black glared at him as though he wanted to refuse but he motioned with the
parchment he held. "Conjure up chairs and pick one."
Weasley immediately drew his wand and conjured up a comfortable chair.
Severus paused. "I will alarm the corridor first. Moody assigned me guard duty
in case there are foolish students who wish to disobey the order not to come
to the infirmary." He fully expected the younger Weasleys would turn up
sooner or later.
Black nodded.
Severus hurried to set the alarm and made his way back with a speed which
surprised him. He conjured a chair at the foot of Potter's bed and reached for
the nearest file; Bellatrix.
It bemused him that the late Lord Black had apparently kept files on his own
family members.
He cast a look at Lupin and Weasley, both absorbed by their own reading, and
finally toward Black, wanting to check how his old rival was taking his
presence. Black's attention was elsewhere; he was smoothing Potter's hair
back with gentle tenderness. Severus swiftly returned his gaze to the file.
.....
4th November 1994
Harry stared gloomily out at the blurred shape of the back garden of Griffin
House, streaks of rain on the windows of his bedroom turning the view into an
abstract watercolour. Hedwig swooped over to him and nuzzled at his bed hair
before taking off to her perch. Harry sighed and rested his chin on his
upturned hand, propped up by his elbow on the back of the chair. It didn't look
as though he'd be able to go flying that day.
Three whole days had passed since he had been entered into the Goblet and
Harry had spent most of it in a healing sleep. He'd woken early on
Wednesday morning surprising Sirius who'd been camped out by his bed.
Doctor Jordan had immediately been called and pronounced him recovered
from the magical trauma of the Goblet binding, the exhaustion from the
protection he'd unconsciously summoned against the binding in the first place,
and the burns on his hands. He'd still spent the last couple of days grumpily
tucked up in bed, weak as the proverbial kitten. Sirius had promised him if he
felt better by Friday he could have some time on his Firebolt but clearly the
weather was conspiring against him.
He shivered despite his warm flannel pyjamas and believed he could feel the
bonds of the Goblet tighten around him momentarily. It felt like the world – the
universe – was conspiring against him and not just Voldemort and his cronies.
Nobody had found where the Dark Lord and his followers had gone to hide
out. There were a lot of theories but no real clues as to where the group had
gone. Most of the theories revolved around Crouch Junior. It had been
established that his mother had taken his place in Azkaban and that it was
likely his father had kept him locked up in the basement of their home. The
prevailing wisdom suggested that Crouch Junior might not be quite sane and
probably saw Voldemort as a rescuer; a hero, someone to follow above and
beyond the mark he had once taken that declared Voldemort his Master. (And
bizarrely, Harry could empathise with that because he loved Sirius in part
because he'd rescued him from the Dursleys).
"Junior has major Daddy issues." Sirius had commented when he'd brought
Harry up to date.
Crouch Junior had also been Rabastan LeStrange's lover, and it was
assumed he was intent on getting revenge for his lover's death and saw Harry
being in the tournament a way to torment Sirius. Harry glowered unhappily at
that thought but Sirius had accepted it calmly enough as a truth.
In addition to the Daddy issues and the drive for revenge, Crouch Junior was
an unpredictable and formidable opponent. His academic record had been
impressive and Harry couldn't help recall the duel he'd fought with the wizard
with chagrin.
It was most probable that Crouch had been the one to arrange a bolthole for
the group and with the abandoned and derelict LeStrange mansion still
abandoned and derelict, there was no clear clue as to their location. How did
someone guess what an insane person might do, Harry mused.
Pettigrew was the other option as the bolthole-arranger and as Sirius had put
it when he'd explained it to Harry…
"If they're counting on Remus and me knowing where the rat might have
bolted to, we're screwed. We did kind of miss the fact that he was the spy so
I'm not sure what kind of insight we can provide beyond we didn't really know
him very well at all."
What minor information they had been able to provide – childhood haunts, his
mother's old home and his father's hometown –had revealed nothing new.
Remus's contact in the werewolf pack indicated that Fenrir was absent and
the slow trickle of werewolves claiming sanctuary within Remus's pack had
begun. The Potter Chateau was currently housing two werewolf couples and a
young werewolf man by the name of Patrick; none had been involved with any
kind of terrorising activity or violence. They were happy to have the offer of
safety and Wolfsbane. It was a delicate thing though, Harry thought. Remus
was very obviously uncomfortable being an Alpha to their new pack-mates,
and torn by his sense of responsibility toward them and his on-going
responsibilities to Harry and Sirius – especially with the tournament debacle.
He'd left for France that morning with a frown on his face and a promise to be
back for the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony.
The ceremony notionally ensured each wand was examined for cheating
charms and was to take place a week on Sunday, a week and a few days
ahead of the first task which would take place on November twenty-fourth.
Harry was kind of hoping that he would be back at Hogwarts well ahead of the
ceremony, but he was all too aware that there was a decision pending and
that Sirius was the one who would make it.
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Chapter 430
Harry sighed.
He understood Sirius's immediate decision to bring him home and Doctor
Jordan had stated that being in his own bed had probably helped his healing.
And he loved Griffin House. He loved being back in the room Sirius and
Remus had picked out for him and surrounded by memories of his wonderful
Summer. He loved Dobby's enthusiastic care and fondness. More importantly,
he felt safe within the walls of his home; protected by people who he knew
loved him beyond measure. It had also been a relief to wake up and realise
he didn't have to deal with being Harry Potter, Lord Potter, the Boy Who Lived,
Unexpected Tri-Wizard Champion, or any other title someone wanted to call
him, and could just be Harry.
There was a temptation to stay. A really, really big temptation. A part of him
wanted to never leave Griffin House; to hide away and ignore the tournament,
ignore the threat to his life and remain wrapped in the comfort of home and
his father's constant loving protective presence.
He also knew there was a large part of Sirius which was tempted by the same
thing; a want to keep Harry hidden away from the rest of the world. It was a
temptation he knew others were aware of since Minerva had turned up the
day before with Harry's school assignments and delivered them to him with a
challenging look at Sirius as though daring him to argue that Harry was no
longer attending Hogwarts. Everyone knew it would be easy enough for Sirius
to arrange tutors and have Harry home-schooled.
But…Harry wasn't unaware that the reality was that both he and Sirius had
responsibilities as Lord Potter and Lord Black; that they had an alliance which
was waiting on them to do more than simply acknowledge the fact of what had
happened. That they should be coming up with a response to what was, as
Neville had declared, the opening salvo in a war. Among the letters he'd
received since he'd woken up were missives from friends, allies and Draco
(who seemed to occupy a category all of his own in Harry's head), all detailing
the political fallout at Hogwarts.
And there was the reality of the tournament itself.
Hermione had a plan.
Which was so very Hermione and Harry was pleased that there was a plan
because he had never really had a plan for anything, and it was one of the
constants of his, Hermione and Ron's friendship that she was their designated
planner. On the other hand, Harry's Summer had matured him enough to
acknowledge that he should be involved with the planning (although
admittedly his own attempt at planning for the tournament had stalled on
'surviving' before he'd fallen asleep again), and he felt some slight wariness
that he didn't know how to break that to Hermione.
Especially since he still very much wanted and intended to ask her to be his
girlfriend.
He sighed heavily.
"Raining, huh?"
Harry glanced over his shoulder and found his father just inside the bedroom
doorway, leaning on the dresser. Sirius wore muggle clothing; black denim
jeans and a thick cable-knit jumper in a dark maroon colour. His shoulderlength hair was tied back with a strip of black leather, and for the first time
since Harry had woken up from his healing, Sirius looked well-rested.
"Yeah," Harry motioned despondently at the window, turning again to stare at
the never-ending precipitation, "no flying."
"How about some hot chocolate and a chat, then?" Sirius offered quietly.
Harry's head whipped around to stare at him hopefully since Sirius had
deflected the topic of Harry's return to Hogwarts at every brief mention and
most sharply when Minerva had visited.
"I'd like that." Harry said.
"Get dressed and meet me in the living room." Sirius instructed. "I'll organise
the drinks." He winked and walked out, closing the door behind him to give
Harry some privacy.
Harry immediately leapt from the chair and headed for the bathroom. The
shower was quick and perfunctory but it did the job. He pulled on similar
clothing to Sirius; jeans and a green jumper. He was pleased that by the time
he made his way downstairs he was fine and not fatigued.
Sirius sat on one end of the couch, cross-legged, his bare feet tucked under
him. Harry picked up his mug of chocolate from the coffee table, snagged one
of the chocolate chip cookies from the plate, and took the other end, settling
himself into a similar position.
"Warm enough?" asked Sirius, concerned; his grey eyes sweeping over
Harry's damp hair.
Harry nodded. The fire in the hearth was low, embers rather than flame, but
the room was cosy and the mug warmed his hands.
"So, we have a few topics to discuss." Sirius began. "All related and all really
boiling down to the question of what do we do now?"
"Yeah." Harry winced in agreement.
Sirius caught Harry's eyes with his. "I said it on the night but I'll say it again
now: I'm very proud of you. The decision you made to accept the binding
saved the lives of your fellow Champions and," he lifted a hand from his mug
to wave it at Harry, "actually I think it saved Hogwarts because your protection
destroying the Goblet might have led to the destruction of the school."
Harry blinked. "I hadn't thought of that."
"Bertie's been fascinated by the whole theoretical argument as has Albus."
Sirius said dryly. "I think they're both planning to write a thesis about it when
we don't have to keep your protection a secret."
Harry grinned. "Jointly or separately?"
"You know I don't know?" Sirius said, amused. "Separately, maybe, since
Bertie thinks based on Godric's Hollow and the strengthening of your
protection with Morgana's blessing, you would have decimated Hogwarts;
Albus says the school wards would have contained the magical explosion to
the antechamber and perhaps, worst case scenario, the Great Hall."
"Wow." Harry frowned. "Is that an argument for or against me going back to
Hogwarts?"
"Good question." Sirius sipped his mug. "Albus isn't worried you pose a threat
to Hogwarts."
"Are you?" asked Harry bluntly. Because he was himself maybe a tad worried.
"No," Sirius said immediately, "not even a little bit. You'd rather tear off your
own arm than destroy Hogwarts or hurt innocent people so I have faith you
won't ever let your protection or your powers get away from you for something
like that to happen."
Sirius's complete faith in him, reassured Harry.
"So, that's a plus in the Going Back to Hogwarts column." Harry offered
tentatively.
Sirius harrumphed. "What do you want to do?"
Harry took time to consider his answer because what he wanted to do wasn't
necessarily the same as what he needed to do – and frankly what he wanted
to do depended on what aspect of life at Hogwarts he was thinking about at
the time.