Pre-Chapter A/N: Welcome to September, guys! Let's smash whatever goals we've set ourselves this year. More chapters on my patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)— same username as here and link in bio. Experimenting with two chapters a week, we'll see how long I can keep this up for.
The rest of the gala passed without incident. I watched both Okonkwo and Sirius throughout. Sirius, ever the social butterfly, seemed to enjoy how he was being ferried from table to table all through the night. Everyone seemed curious about the escaped convict, Sirius Black, who turned out to be the former but not much of the latter. I'd already counted two who had been unnaturally curious about how he'd made it out. I'd keep my eyes on them as well in case they were moved to try something. At least I was sure that Sirius could take care of himself to some extent. He was almost as good a duelist as I was—as long as I didn't use anything on the upper levels of my ability. So that probably meant he'd have an easy enough time facing anyone not a fully-trained professional wizard hunter.
Okonkwo, on the other hand, was not being ferried from place to place inasmuch as she drew people to her like a magnet. She had estimated the range of my aversion ward quite accurately, finding the man and woman from before right outside it—what did she call them again? The Mafells? And as she stood with them, more and more people came. She was the new toy, the new thing, and when I had thought I was saving her from exploitation, it turned out she had a full understanding of what was going on.
I could respect it, even if I would never be able to relate to it. She wanted gold to help her people, but she was a powerful witch. Why not do the studying herself and help them? Enchanting a greenhouse couldn't be that hard. Couldn't be much harder than conjuring a magical plant, could it be? And I'd seen her do the latter during her duel with Cece. I took the last sip from my glass and took down my ward with a flick of my wrist. Not having the waiters pass me by wasn't good for business. Or for my continued enjoyment of this place.
"There you are, Mr. Potter," I heard the voice behind me. I turned slowly, not allowing it to show in my body language that the voice had startled me. It hadn't even been more than a few seconds since I dropped the ward.
"Mr. Julian Russo," I said in greeting, inclining my head at him. He was a competent administrator and organizer, and that was something worthy of respect at the very least.
"You are a shockingly hard boy to find in such a small hall," he said. I found my left eyebrow lifting of its own accord even as my wand ached to shatter his bones against the ground. And I did mean my wand in this case. I could feel how much it wanted to rip this man apart. I was sure that if I grabbed on to the hilt and fed it some magic with no other intent, it would do the job on its own.
"Is that so?" I drawled in my best impression of a certain Potions Master. Speaking of him, it was still surprising that Dumbledore hadn't gotten him back to Hogwarts yet. He'd gotten off the Obstruction of Justice charges very easily. Under Veritaserum, he had testified that when I had knocked him into the wall with my disarming charm, he had suffered a concussion and so hadn't been thinking clearly when he made his decisions.
"Quite so. Tried to get a conversation with you last time, but you were so busy that it would have hurt to interrupt your time with your friends. Now today, without said friends, I find myself only able to see you from the corner of my eyes."
"How interesting. I would get my eyes checked, if I were you," I said, not giving an inch for whatever he was insinuating.
"You are quite a duelist, Potter," he said, changing tacks once he realised he would not be getting anything from me.
"Thank you."
"No, no. It is not necessarily a compliment, merely a statement of fact. I have seen many duelists fight in this tournament, and few would have been able to dispatch Aleksander Volkov with such ease. Yourself and Miss Okonkwo are poised to give us the U17 duel of the century. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the U17 champion is guaranteed to be under the age of 17," he said.
"Wonderful," I said, for lack of options, and then finally a tray passed us by. I reached out, grabbing another flute while depositing my empty one. I tapped my wand against the stem of the glass, ignoring the way Russo's eyes narrowed at the gesture.
"You do not trust our meals?" I wondered if he was truly offended.
"Nothing of the sort. Merely that my godfather has managed to run afoul of some interesting creatures, and I have no wish to become a victim."
"Oh, you mean the goblins? Those nasty creatures? We detected a few of them attempting to break through the wards this evening. They have been thoroughly dissuaded from attempting such again. But I wonder how your Godfather managed to run afoul of such a Goblin clan." There was the fishing for information again.
"Oh, Sirius is a man of many vices and few restraints," I said, and that was it. I said nothing further on the matter.
"Have you considered next year's world championship?"
"To some extent. I believe it is customary for the U17 champion to take a gap year to train and prepare. Isn't the point of this thing to find the sponsors to make that sabbatical possible?"
"For most people, yes. But if you cared about finding sponsors, you would not have used an aversion ward here. Those with the eyes to see have seen, and they are not pleased." I shrugged.
"They can keep their gold." I took another sip of my champagne, allowing the taste to swirl through my mouth.
"Of course you think you can spurn their gold. I know your name and that of your godfather might carry clout in England. You most definitely have more wealth than you will ever need if you wanted to live your life in peace. But you don't just want to live your life in peace, do you? One does not train as hard as you must have, acquire as much power as you have, just to live a life of peace. And so when your war comes, would you rather have the powers that be in Europe against you or on your side? Because no matter how much you might disdain them, these are the men and women who rule the world. Gold makes the world turn around, and these people have more of it than anyone else," he said.
"What war are you talking about? I didn't get any notice that I was at war or planning one."
"Indeed? Then your words about your Dark Lord having returned? You do not believe them? I would assume the threat of his return is what turned you from an average student by all metrics that matter into a finalist in the largest Under-Seventeen dueling championship in under a year. That has to be it, no?"
"Voldemort is back, yes," I said, not even touching the rest of what he said with a 10-foot pole. Sirius said he had been snooping around me, accusations of cheating and whatnot. I hadn't cheated, but there was no use giving him anything to work with. The only thing worse than talking too much when you were guilty was saying too much when you just so happen to be innocent.
"So would you not need them to fight this dark lord of yours? Gold to hire mercenaries, to pay for wands, healing potions, other equipment. Fighting a war is expensive, you know?"
"Good thing the Ministry will be the one fighting that war, not me, then. Mr. Russo, can we get straight to the point of what brings you here?"
"I just want to get to know you better, Mr. Potter. Is that too much to ask?"
"Yes. I can't see you putting in that much effort to get to know Okonkwo, so I must protest at being singled out."
"Ifeoma Okonkwo is not alien to me. Top of her class in Uagadou every year since her enrollment. She's only two years older than you and is poised to graduate from Uagadou's eight-year course by next year. Exceptionally skilled in herbology, transfiguration, and highly skilled in all the others. She was impressing her teachers with animate conjurations while most of her classmates were struggling to turn beetles into buttons. She is a prodigy without equal. If you'd asked me before this began, I would have had my money on her winning the whole thing."
"And let me guess, you didn't have it on me making it this far."
"Not in the slightest. Your performances have been outliers by all metrics. You should not have beaten Miss Kuzetsova. And definitely not so easily. You should not have beaten Mr. Serrano either. And against Mr. Volkov? You should have had no chance in hell."
"Well, I think you're just late to the party. The whole world got used to seeing me do the impossible during the Triwizard. Just accept that I am better than you thought and move on. I don't think obsessing this strongly over it is doing you any good."
"You see, I took into account everything you displayed at the Triwizard. My arithmetic models are flawless. You had no business beating them because the you that participated in the Triwizard tournament should have washed out of this tournament in the early stages. Not shamefully, but not anything to write home about either way," he said.
"You set up the pairings, didn't you?" I accused. He sounded way too sure. It was almost like he had taken the possibility of luck out of the system entirely.
"Most assuredly. Do I look like an idiot to you? Would I have left the spectacle of the tournament up to you duelists and pure chance? No. I had to engineer things to keep every part of the tournament as entertaining as possible. This tournament is going to go down in history as the greatest spectacle the wizarding world as a whole got the privilege of witnessing," he said, sounding a bit too full of himself as he did so, but since he was in a talkative mood.
"For you to script the matches so precisely, then you would have to have unnaturally large amounts of information about every single person here. Weren't we over a thousand?"
"It was no easy feat. So you can imagine how displeased I am to have an unseen wrench mucking about in the middle of my plans like a bull in a china shop."
"So you somehow managed to gather information on everyone likely to compete and then used that to figure out who would win when faced with who. But to what end? A more entertaining tournament? That's all?"
"There is magic in joy, Mr. Potter. And this is the best place in the world to make people happy," he said, with the kind of tone that said he knew something that I didn't. I didn't particularly care, though.
"Okay, then you'll make them happy with my victory all the same."
"Maybe I could, but not with you acting thus. If I want to sell you as champion, then you're going to have to work with me. No more turning your nose up at our sponsors, maybe engage with the crowd after your duel."
"Shouldn't you be telling Okonkwo this as well?"
"She needs no guidance. Her people's needs mean she understands the importance of playing ball far better than any speech I could give her would. Now the question, Mr. Potter, will you comply?" He stretched out his hand.
"Sure," I said, taking it, lying through my teeth.
"Good, so I must introduce you to someone now," he said, not letting go of my hand and practically pulling me across the banquet hall to the other side. It was not far from where Okonkwo was holding court with her bevy of admirers. I noticed she was showing them some plant summoning like she had used against Cece, and they were enraptured. I buried my scoff but not well enough, because Russo turned to me with a raised eyebrow. Then his gaze followed mine. He nodded approvingly instead of scoffing.
"I would not have expected a girl from Uganda to play the game better than the heir to one of Britain's most established names."
"I have no need to play games with my lessers," I said. Russo looked far from impressed.
"Well, a bit less of that attitude as we meet them. They donated nearly 30% of the funds used in this endeavor on their own and even offered the charms books that allowed our enchanters to craft the enchantments on the arena." And with that last bit, he had me. Gold was whatever. But knowledge? Knowledge was everything. It could be the difference between life and death, victory and defeat. And if they had access to books on small-scale environmental manipulation at that level and were willing to just donate them, then who knew what else they had in their possession.
I longed to wipe the smirk that appeared on Russo's face once he knew he had my interest off of it, but patience was a virtue, and I allowed him the small victory.
He led us over to a table with a familiar man and woman. The same couple that had pointed over at me when they left Okonkwo. The same couple she'd said were able to see through my obfuscation charm. Speaking of, I tucked my hand behind my back, allowing my wand to drop down from my holster before I dispelled the charm with a swish and flick.
"Harry Potter, meet Lachonis and Perenelle Mafell. Lachonis, Perenelle, meet Harry James Potter, just as promised," he said, ushering me into a seat.
The man, Lachonis, tilted his head back and laughed. It was a full, boisterous thing.
"You never disappoint, Julian. A man of your word, indeed," he said while his wife chuckled by his side. And then they said no more.
"Well met, Mr. Mafell, Mrs. Mafell," I said once the silence at the table began to stretch.
"Indeed. Harry Potter. What a fascinating person you are. Hard to reach as well. Why, in all my years of living, I haven't met anyone quite as keen on going undisturbed at a social function as you," he said.
"I like my own space, Mr. Mafell," I said, even as Russo rose from the table, bowed, and left.
"Indeed. And you keep your own company as well. I assume this means you tend to keep your own counsel," he said, and while I could tell this was going somewhere, I couldn't for the life of me tell where—not yet at least.
A wand appeared in Lachonis's hand. So quickly that I couldn't even tell where he had drawn it from. Mine fell from my holster a second later. I didn't expect to be attacked. Not by this couple at least. They looked old and harmless, but then wasn't that the point of looks? To deceive? He slashed it over our heads, and I felt the weight of a ward fall down upon me. It had been so quick. I'd never even read about a ward being cast so quickly.
I looked at them, wary now.
"Calm down, Harry. You can trust us," Perenelle said.
"I don't even know who you are," I scoffed back. Trust? What did they think this was? What did they think I was?
"But you do. Just not by the names we choose to go by now. Think about it, Harry Potter. Lachonis Mafell." He said the name again as if it was supposed to mean something. I almost replied instantly, but then I stopped. He wouldn't have said it if it didn't mean something. An anagram. What anagrams could come from Lachonis? Cash Lion? Lachison? Slochain? Nicholas? Fuck. Nicholas. And Mafell? Flamel.
"Nicholas Flamel," I whispered in awe. He nodded while his wife broke into applause by his side. Perenelle. Of course, Perenelle.
"Sharp as Albus said."
"He also said you'd be dead."
"No. I do believe he told you I would be getting my affairs in order," he said.
Checking my memory revealed his account to be the correct one.
"You were there," I accused.
"Under a disillusionment charm. I wanted to meet you so desperately, Harry. Albus knew this and was able to leverage that to get my forgiveness for allowing my stone to be destroyed."
"But what are you doing here now? Your destroyed stone should mean you have higher priorities," I asked.
"Well, we didn't come to meet you. Meeting you was a happy accident, in fact. You see, we had a deal with Julian, and Mr. Russo seems to intend to steal from us."
"What sort of deal?" I asked, more interested in this than I had been in anything all night.
"We would need you to swear an unbreakable vow to never divulge this information to anyone."
"An unbreakable vow?" I scoffed. A vow that meant death if breached? Did they think I was stupid?
I pushed my chair backwards and was about to leave.
"You don't want to know how the Philosopher's stone was made?" Perenelle's voice rang out.
"If you're willing to tell me, then I'm willing to wager that the knowledge would do me no good."
"Swear the vow to keep the secrets of what we tell you, and we will give you full freedom to take three books of your choice from our collection," Nicholas said next.
"You'll add that to the vow? Swear one of your own?" I asked, and while they appeared hesitant, they both nodded.
"Just to clarify, this reward is only for hearing you out. I am not bound to help you with whatever this mess you've gotten yourself into is."
"Of course. But when you find out what the reward for that one is, I'm sure we will be able to reach an agreement," Nicholas said confidently.
A/N: A tournament without a conspiracy underneath it? What would the point be in that? Next four chapters up on patreon(https://www.patreon.com/c/Oghenevwogaga)(same username as here and link in bio), support me there and read them early.