I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise
Author's Note:
There are a few chapters of this story that I haven't posted yet, because a content thief has been copying my work and posting it on another site under their own name.
I don't normally recruit the internet for help in such matters, but my DMCA takedown notice has been ignored by the website in question. If some netizens could visit a story named Harry Potter Breaking Free by mystic_verse on w-e-b-n-o-v-e-l-.-c-o-m, and report the story in question, doing so might help me out.
Anyways, on to the chapter.
After rising from bed and donning her habitual robe, Appoline strolled down to the kitchen, where she called out a good morning to her live in chef Mrs. Christianson. A chef worth her weight in gold, as the woman immediately produced a plate of porridge with sliced up fruit, along with some scrambled egg prepared exactly the way she liked it…
Bliss.
As the French Ministry was currently at peace with itself (almost unheard of), Adrien was enjoying a very rare full day off… which of course meant that the man was still in bed. While Appoline actually enjoyed mornings, she and her husband did not have that character trait in common, which is why she was in the habit of using her feminine wiles to get the man both up and moving most mornings (a daily routine that neither of them would've interfered with even if doing so were possible)…
On the other hand, when her husband was given the rare opportunity to recharge his batteries the good old fashioned way, Appoline wasn't so cruel as to interfere with the process.
No. Rather than pester her husband, Appoline moved out onto the veranda, where she enjoyed the brisk morning air, ate her breakfast, sipped some coffee, and smiled her way through a moment of nearly perfect contentment.
While matters over at Hogwarts had a tendency to cause her low level (but persistent) anxiety, Appoline Delacour was still enjoying some of the most fulfilling days of her whole entire life, and she knew exactly why. She was the CEO/Lead Developer for an extremely lucrative company now, and since she was being assisted by the Potter family's accountant Goblin Silverclaw, she had the freedom to take part at basically her own convenience.
Which she did, because it was all so very interesting.
Watching Harry's wonderful magical creations transform from rare magical artifacts into commercially available products and then grow in popularity over time helped Appoline feel involved in the world around her in a way that she hadn't even known she was missing as a dedicated housewife. It was… it was wonderful, and Appoline felt like she was just nineteen years old again, embarking on the unknown.
But that wasn't all.
Yet another matter that was already improving Appoline's quality of life was in regards to her youngest daughter, Gabrielle, as even now, at only eight Am in the morning, the nine year old girl was already up and hitting the books like there was no tomorrow (a fact that almost caused Appoline to faint when she walked past her youngest daughter's bedroom and caught her in the act).
Suffice it to say, Gabrielle was feeling driven in a way that Appoline had never seen from the girl before, which made sense, as now the youngest Delacour could experience real, tangible improvements in return for her efforts.
"Harry James Potter," Appoline slowly breathed out, while leaning back in her chair and cradling her coffee in both of her hands.
Flap Flap Flap rustle rustle.
Opening her eyes in response to a series of familiar flapping noises, Appoline saw Kramins, the Delacour family owl, settling down on a nearby railing and holding out their daily newspaper. Smiling at the bird, Appoline paid the sickle required for the ongoing subscription before untying the package from the owl's leg and opening up the paper to see if there was anything of interest… which there wasn't, at least, not at first glance…
It was on the sixth page of the paper, at the very top of the Entertainment column that Appoline eventually saw it, and she unceremoniously exploded into loud and raucous laughter, tears flowing from her eyes to drip off of her chin. Over the next five minutes, she read and reread the article over and over again, as it was pure - comedy - gold.
It was everything, absolutely everything, that Harry feared it would be, and yet it was so, so much more...
"What is it, wife," Adrien asked, after sauntering out onto the veranda with a gigantic coffee in hand.
While opening the paper to the relevant page and then sliding it onto the table in front of her husband, Appoline was forced to continually bite on her lower lip to stop herself from further laughter.
Leaning over his wife's shoulder, Adrien scanned the paper's contents for just a moment before his eyes suddenly widened to the size of saucers. Soon after, he was roaring with laughter along with his wife because this kind of super corny publicity stunt would be a complete nightmare for Harry, and the both of them knew it.
Appoline drew in several deep lungfuls of air just trying to regain her ability to speak, as she'd really committed to this second round of laughter and was legitimately out of breath. "Dobby, please, can you join us for a moment?"
Pop
"Yes, my Lady," Dobby answered with a courtly bow.
While in the background, Adrien performed a copy-spell, in order to scrapbook the newspaper article with the rest of them, Appoline regarded Dobby with mirth shining in her eyes. "My husband and I, we have a delivery for you to make to 'Arry during breakfast. 'Arry and my daughter have graced the entertainment section of Magical Britain's newspapers… so I'm quite certain all of his friends will enjoy reading about it…"
Dobby began smiling widely and not quite evilly along with Appoline, because yeah… Harry hates that stuff more than almost anything, and he could see what she had in mind. "It'll be done, my lady. I'll even procure a few more copies before I go back to Magical Britain so that every single one of his friends may enjoy their own copy."
"Ohohooh, Dobby…" Appoline giggled again and began having trouble composing herself. "What did I ever do without you?"
"A question I frequently ask myself as well, my Lady," Dobby very graciously replied with yet another bow. "I will make sure to collect my memories of the big reveal in pensieve form for your viewing pleasure."
"Oh, thank you, Dobby," Appoline enthused while giving the completely remarkable House elf a high intensity smile.
With the tip of an invisible hat, Dobby was gone, the pop he created almost completely inaudible.
"How in the name of the Gods am I supposed to please the ladies of my family in the face of Harry spoiling you all so shamelessly," Adrien lamented in a melodramatic tone of voice.
"You were complacent until now, my love, and 'Arry is only forcing you to put in the appropriate effort." Appoline smiled at her husband, who was, in fact, a very talented and thoughtful gift-giver.
Adrien smiled as he sank into the seat at his wife's side and then pulled his mug of coffee up towards his mouth.
"We can use the time until Dobby's return teaching you how to use the communication earring that 'Arry gifted you," Appoline suggested, her words quiet but sudden, a sly grin upon her face.
Adrien's face lost a little of its playfulness then, as he arched an eyebrow in question. "You can't mean to say they're already completed?"
"From idea, to development, to finished product in less than half a day, and from what I was told he made thirty of them," Appoline described, while shaking her head in wonder.
While Adrien gave Appoline a soft smile and his voice was warm when he spoke, the question that he asked clearly wasn't a joke in the slightest. "What manner of magical creature is that boy?"
"I'd say he's a Merlin, but I think someday he'll be the new standard by which magical society makes comparisons," Appoline replied in an equally soft tone of voice.
Nodding his head, Adrien lifted his legs up onto a wooden footstool, affixed the provided (clip-on) earring onto the lobe of his ear, hugged his wife when she relocated to his lap, and he spent the rest of the morning enjoying her tutelage…
After waking up in the gray-tinted light just preceding dawn with his wife snuggled up atop his body, Harry gently prepared the usual comfort trifecta, because he felt signs of increased activity in the bond and knew that his mate was in the process of waking up. With that in mind, he began rubbing her back in slow, soft movements, helping her along in the fashion that he did most mornings.
"M...usband... lo...ve you…" Fleur breathed out from what appeared to be the last vestiges of a dream.
Too much, too cute, Harry began smiling a wide, wide smile and just like that, a good morning was elevated to a great one.
"Ar... ry," Fleur murmured into his chest, her face rubbing against him slowly and gently. "So... good…" she continued in just the ghost of a voice.
Nodding his head, Harry realized he was suffering from success, because skipping yet another day of training didn't seem wise.
Slowly, cutely looking up at her husband from his chest, Fleur stared at the man with doleful, puppy dog eyes, as if begging him to stay with her, to lay with her…
Harry took damage even though he could sense that his wife wasn't being completely serious, but then he had an idea and his face took on a thoughtful cast… "I wonder if Selene would be interested in our escapades from last night…"
While Harry acted as if he was merely pondering that question, they both knew what he was really up to… Fleur was well-aware that she was being manipulated, and yet it was working because that sounded like a lot of fun.
Damn…
Slowly, reluctantly, Fleur rolled off her husband, and the two of them began approaching their day.
Later that morning, Neville and Harry exited their customary workout together, and they walked in the direction of the Great Hall for breakfast, during which time Harry had a thought. He was beginning to lose track of how the other boys from his year were doing…
Unfortunately, Neville wasn't very helpful in that regard.
When Harry asked the boy about the Gryffindor fourth year guys, Neville admitted that he'd been sleeping curled up with Hannah every single night for at least a week now and that he didn't plan on returning to his own bed any time soon, but that most matters appeared business as usual in classes, and that was about all he knew.
Of course, by the time Neville was finished explaining all of that, Harry was far too busy rejoicing on Neville's behalf to give a damn about his other dorm-mates, and the two of them pushed each other around as they entered the Hall…
Of course the occupants of The Great Hall paused as Harry and Neville entered it, but neither Harry nor Neville even blinked in response to the phenomena because these things do tend to happen.
Harry, for one, was far more interested in getting some food into him rather than finding out what fresh atrocity he'd taken part in according to the various gossip mags.
Approaching the Gryffindor table, Harry slid into his customary seat next to his wife, and he wasn't surprised in the slightest to find his hand pulled into her lap just a single moment later. "Good morning, love," Harry quietly greeted while smiling in appreciation at the large plate of nutritious food sitting in front of him, prepared in advance as Fleur felt him approach.
Pop!
"Good morning Master," Dobby brightly announced, as the elf levitated about ten newspapers all around the table. "It has been brought to my attention, you all may enjoy reading the Entertainment section of these papers… Goodbye."
Pop.
Then the elf was gone, long before anyone could ask any further questions.
"Ze French Gazette," Selene commented in a confused voice. "Zis ees one of ze papers I read at 'ome…"
Harry just shook his head in long suffering because he had a feeling he already knew exactly why. Picking up the paper, he flipped through the pages until he saw it… and then he slumped backwards in his seat.
An entire page of the Entertainment section was full of different photos of Harry and Fleur with small captions under them, and then there was an article featuring them at the bottom of the page.
A full page article on the two of us just walking around and doing essentially nothing? Did nothing happen at all in Magical France yesterday?
At Harry's side, he felt Fleur reading the same article, but unlike him, the woman was becoming visibly amused rather than embarrassed.
By this point, Hermione, Cedric, Neville, Bella and Selene (those people that could read the article), were all turning red while trying to contain their rising mirth at Harry's expense.
Fleur looked at all the people around the table that could not read the French in front of them and then adopted a completely innocent and yet extremely evil smile.
Soon enough, Fred, George, Alicia, Katie and Angelina began looking back and forth between the article's French captions and Fleur, because they could all easily see that she was about to make them smile.
"Eef you will allow me to do so, I will now read ze French captions underneath ze different photos," Fleur finally announced, her smooth and polished demeanor just barely maintained in the face of her amusement.
Harry knew exactly what was coming, so he turned his attention to his breakfast (without much success), and acted as if he wasn't affected in the slightest (again without much success).
Everyone began looking at Fleur with stars in their eyes because yes, yes, Fleur had every intention of teasing Harry… and this was going to be good.
"Eef you will observe ze top left photo," Fleur began while raising the paper and indicating the referenced area like a beautiful assistant from a game show. "Eet as a razzer romantic photo of 'Arry and I 'olding 'aands while walking through a park setting. Ze caption underneath says, and I quote. Ze very gallant and dashing, young buck Lord Potter escorting his beau ze very ravishing Lady Delacour for a frolic around ze Blue Road's lakeside park…"
Snicker, giggle
Frolic
giggle snicker
Young buck
By this point, Harry was observing the fake sky capping the Great Hall, because he already knew that this was going to continue and that it was only going to get worse from here…
Turning her attention back towards the newspaper article, Fleur continued her production with a beatific smile upon her face. "Now I will bring your attention to ze top right photo of ze page, een which 'Arry and I are flirting while playing ze piano een a band-shell een ze park. Unbeknownst to us we are garnering an audience and are completely oblivious. Ze caption underneath ze photo says ze following... Ze very dapper, debonair, Lord Potter and 'iis resplendent paramour Lady Delacour play a beautiful piano piece for a gazzering crowd of enraptured listeners…"
Once again, Fleur performed the whole show shtick and everyone was now officially having a fantastic damn time.
Giggle
debonair
snicker
paramour
With nowhere to turn and no escape available, Harry was hiding his face under a double face-palm with his elbows on the table, because this was all just way too much for him and even with his Occlusions, he was barely holding back a blush.
When everyone finally came down from their mad giggling, Fleur brought their attention to the photo near the bottom of the page. "Last, but certainly not least, zis completely adorable photo at ze bottom features 'Arry and I exiting a tattoo parlor arm in arm, and I am very clearly marveling at 'iis brand new ear piercing..." Fleur looked at Harry then with a grin on her face that could only be described as malevolent. "Ze caption for zis photo ees particularly eengenious eef you ask me and eet goes as follows. Ze very daring, audacious Lord Potter shows 'iis stunning date Lady Delacour 'ow big a macho man, beefcake 'ee ees, by 'aaving an ear pierced during zeir date to ze Blue Road…."
Once again, Fleur began performing the game show prize showing motions but she needn't have bothered. By that point, everyone was far far too busy howling with mad laughter to even notice her efforts, on and on in a state of completely helpless mirth.
Soul deep agony would be the only way that Harry could describe the way he currently felt, even as a short guffaw slipped past his lips at the absurdity of those words… But he also shook his head and desperately waved his hands for his friends' attention. "Fleur is embellishing the article and the word beefcake was never used…"
"'Arry is lying," Selene immediately choked out even as she wiped joyful tears from her eyes. "Fleur's words were a direct translation, so don't listen to a seengle word zat ze macho man, beefcake ees saying!"
And just like that, Selene successfully set everyone off again, and the laughter didn't stop for at least a minute longer. Breakfasts were forgotten, hands helplessly pounded the table, spoons dropped to the floor.
The Gryffindor table was in chaos, and Harry took it all in with the air of a man that's found enlightenment to escape his worldly torment… which is what allowed him to notice that Mrs. McGonagall was approaching from the head table and was gesturing for a moment of his time.
Oh thank the Gods…
Since he was well-aware that Fleur intended to narrate the article at the bottom of the page, Harry immediately took the provided escape… Nodding his understanding towards the head of his house, Harry rose to his feet and quickly walked to the side of the room. By the time Mrs. McGonagall joined Harry at the wall, he was leaning back against the stone, where he was watching his friends unravel into uncontrollable laughter from a relatively safe distance.
"Good morning professor McGonagall. How may I help you," Harry asked, when the woman slid into place at his side and watched the people at his table suffer a fit of hysterics.
As Minerva McGonagall turned her attention away from the violent laughter unfolding at the Gryffindor table, she found herself staring at the young man to her right, trying to reconcile him with the small, underfed, bundle of nerves that she'd met three and a half years earlier, and trying to come to terms with her abject failure as an educator…
McGonagall knew, after all.
-She knew that Harry's time at Hogwarts had been one life endangering escapade after another, every single year so far
-She knew that Harry no longer trusted the teaching staff to be even vaguely helpful in an emergency, and that he had every right to feel the way that he felt
-She knew that the teaching staff continually and persistently disregarded his many warnings, until finally he stopped bothering to deliver them
-She knew that Harry viewed his enrolment in the Triwizard tournament as yet another failure on their part to assure their students' safety, and once again he wasn't wrong in that assessment
Minerva McGonagall had much to atone for, and no way to do so beyond giving the boy the freedom he needed to make the most of his time with Ms. Delacour, who she knew was rapidly training Harry into a very capable man… among other things. .
Minerva wasn't happy about her abysmally bad track record regarding Harry, as well as her lack of involvement in his most recent growth. Nevertheless, she really was happy that Harry had become so competent over the last half year, and that he was quite capable of taking care of himself.
With all this running through her mind, Minerva scrutinized the young man standing beside her with enough intensity that he straightened in response and stared at her in return. Then she spoke, her words much softer than her current demeanor would suggest… "Good morning Mr. Potter… First of all, I'd like to know when you want to show me and Professor Flitwick the extra Transfiguration/Charms work that we've provided you..."
In response to McGonagall's question, Harry visibly relaxed and smiled, as truth be told he'd been expecting a reprimand for either being out of the country all day yesterday or for sleeping in the Beauxbatons carriage with his wife every night. Despite Neville's successful bluff earlier in the year, Harry was well-aware that he wasn't really exempt from sleeping in his dormitory, and he didn't truly believe that his Runed up dorm bed was fooling her (or anyone really).
At the same time, Harry thought about his schedule with Cedric and Fleur the following day, and realized that, yes, he did have some free time. "Anytime after three Pm tomorrow is fine with me, Professor. Just tell me when you're available and I'll go to either of your classrooms."
Minerva nodded, stepped forward so that she was no longer leaning against the wall, and nodded her head with a business casual demeanor. "How does three-thirty Pm tomorrow in my classroom sound?"
Harry noted that three-thirty was in the gap between his training and Quidditch practice so it was about as perfect as he could ask for. "That works for me, Professor."
"Next, I have a request on behalf of your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Mr. Moody…" Minerva hedged, some of the tension from before returning to her face as she visibly approached a favor.
To Harry's advanced senses, Minerva appeared to be nervous about something, with her magical aura holding trace amounts of hope and longing that he didn't yet understand. He'd never really gotten to know Mad Eye Moody in the few DADA classes that he attended before October, which left him wondering why Minerva was so very nervous about this request…
"Harry…" McGonagall began.. "It has come to our attention that you had advanced warning in regards to a problem with the Wards during the dueling tryouts. Many students were quick to point out that you warned your friends to pull out their wands long before anyone else knew that there was a problem with the magical boundary."
While Harry arched an eyebrow as a precursor to a question, Minerva quickly raised a hand to get ahead of his reply. "The teaching staff know that you're secretive, Harry, but that incident wasn't a secret and we hear things. Rest assured. We are not spreading information about your… gifts."
For now, Harry just nodded in response.
"The day after the Dueling tryouts, we Professors had a lot of trouble getting the students to stop gossiping about your heroics long enough to get any work done, and in the process, we heard all about your skill with Wards. Later, it was confirmed by Professor Babbling that you were in her Runes class and that you were learning at a frightening pace. For that reason, when Professor Moody asked for volunteers from his fellow Professors to help him oversee the preliminaries of the dueling tournament later today… your name repeatedly came up as a potential solution."
"A… solution, Professor," Harry asked.
"Ahem, yes," McGonagall replied while drawing in a breath. "Professor Moody expressed concerns that there might be another debacle regarding safety if we rely on Ministry hired strangers like we did during the tryout, and in response several of the professors pointed out that you're clearly sensitive to the inner workings of Ward schemes and can also repair them if required to. The teaching staff were hoping that you would step forward today as an assistant proctor and help Professor Moody oversee the preliminaries."
"Pardon me, Professor, but are there no professors better suited to the task," Harry asked, completely failing to conceal his incredulity. "I'm not sure how the student body would react to a fellow student overseeing their safety…"
At that, Minerva just arched an eyebrow at Harry, making it quite clear how she felt on the matter.. "Harry... Do you really think the students will worry about you keeping them safe?"
After several moments passed, Harry just shrugged in defeat and then asked the real question they both knew was coming. "Why me? Why not you, or Flitwick, or Babbling, or Sinistra…"
"Harry… Do you know what Professors do during Hogsmeade weekends," McGonagall asked. "We grade papers and then shop for new clothing, tools and bric-a-brac, and then we visit our families or romantic interests. We stuff as much productivity as we can into this time, and while we may have helped Professor Moody if we were given advanced warning, the man only brought his needs up with us this morning."
Minerva sighed as if admitting any of what she just said physically pained her, but Harry saw the rest of the Professor table staring at her back, and he recognized that she was their chosen spokesperson.
"I suppose you can see why there've been no volunteers to assist Professor Moody thus far," McGonagall asked.
Slowly, thoughtfully, Harry nodded because yes, he understood. He also nodded because he understood why the Professor was leery of asking him for help. The witch wasn't stupid, after all. She had to know by now that he wasn't too enamored with Hogwarts's teaching staff.
In the end, when Harry decided to assist Professor McGonagall, the decision was based purely on the fact that the woman was giving him a lot of personal freedom this year, he knew how out of character it was for her to relax house rules, and he really did appreciate the woman's good judgment.
With a glance back at his table where Fleur was giving him a knowing look, Harry slowly bounced away from the wall and then gave the Professor a small smile of assent. "This morning I'm scheduled to watch the dueling preliminaries with my friends, before spending the rest of the day training with Fleur and Cedric, which means I do have time to help Professor Moody during the event itself, but not with the cleanup afterwards."
With that much said, Harry shrugged because this was the best that he could do. He was extremely determined to train.
Rather than look upset, McGonagall was visibly happy that Harry couldn't help Moody with the cleanup, which likely meant she was quite unhappy with the man. "I appreciate your help Mr. Potter and I'm sure Professor Moody will be even more grateful. He'll meet you in the clearing just down the hill from the Entry Hall at nine Am, where a series of stands are being erected as we speak. He'll have a proctor uniform prepared for you when you arrive."
With an absentminded nod, Harry began turning back towards the Gryffindor table, with McGonagall striding away at high speed in his peripheral vision. It did appear, the gray-haired Professor wasn't immune to the appeal of R …
Of course by the time Harry arrived back at the Gryffindor table, his wife was already informing their friends about his conscription into the Duelling Proctors' ranks… but she also had a somewhat lecherous smile upon her face when she turned in his direction. "I seem to recall you saying zat you would never wear one of zose tight leetle Proctor outfits… I also recall zinking you would look really good een eet…"
Only then did Harry remember, and he double face-palmed himself for the second time in less than ten minutes
After breakfast, when Harry and his friends marched down to the event platform that had appeared from nothing overnight, they saw that it was rather large. It wasn't Inter-School Quidditch Tournament large, but it was big all the same.
Several sections of stands had been Conjured into place just this morning, and they all looked like miniature Quidditch stands. The lowest row of seats began about seven meters off the ground and then rose sharply with every tier back to about eight meters tall in the furthest rows back.
After further scrutiny, Harry surmised that all of the Dueling would be done one duel at a time this morning, because there was only the one large flagstone platform situated in the middle of all of the erected stands.
With that much figured out, Harry scanned the stands and the people working on them with his eyes in order to find the very mysterious and magically cloaked Professor Moody, and as per usual, it felt jarring that he had to actually look for the man with his eyes rather than just 'feel' his presence with his magical senses.
Thankfully, Professor Moody was standing right in front of the platform, where he was directing the Ministry staff like a spider on a web.
With one last wave at his friends, who were moving to capture seats, Harry turned towards his wife and accepted her arms around his waist… "I know that I'll most likely end up standing around doing nothing this morning, but… please… do try not to give me an erection will you?"
"No promises," Fleur instantly replied while grinning at her mate. "You are proctoring this event because everyone knows that you would crush them if you were to take part, thus, they trust you to keep them safe, and that thought makes me… warm… Nevertheless, I will try."
"I appreciate your consideration," Harry breathed out with a kiss to his wife's scalp that had him enjoying the scent of her hair... "Oh, and one more thing. Please keep in mind that this is Hogwarts…"
"My wand will not be far from my hand," Fleur confirmed, her lips softly rubbing against the side of Harry's neck.
Abruptly, Harry and Fleur broke away from each other, as they heard an irregular stepping, clacking sound moving in their direction.
"Ah! There you are!" Professor Moody regarded Harry with a twisted grin on his face as he approached the boy and his electric blue eye watched Fleur move off towards the stands. "I was told the Professors managed to guilt-trip you into helping me, but nonetheless I appreciate it. We never had a chance to get to know each other before you became exempt from my classes, so I'm looking forward to working with you."
"I am as well, Professor," Harry replied in return. "I've heard your classes are more brilliant… and scary… every single week."
Moody laughed good and hard at that as he pulled a black uniform out of a bag at his feet. "Yes, yes, I imagine the students do find my classes scary. I'm teaching a scary course of study and they should've been taking it this seriously their entire time at Hogwarts. I'm just the shock they needed in order to begin taking their own protection with the gravity it deserves."
"I completely agree, Professor," Harry replied while nodding in return.
"I imagine you would agree, given the life that you've led, Mr. Potter." After Moody's grin dimmed for just an instant, It returned as he visibly scrutinized the boy that was standing in front of him. "Taking out ten mercenaries this summer, even more at Hogsmeade, and surviving the first Mini-Task… Those are not the actions of an unprepared fourteen year old. You're like me, Mr. Potter. You're prepared, you're trained, you're observing CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
Harry very carefully didn't startle at the man's very random full volume outburst, but it was a very close won thing.
Seeing that he hadn't startled the boy in front of him, Professor Moody nodded happily as if he'd just proven his own point. "Here, Mr. Potter. Take this uniform. I've been informed… in confidence… by my fellow Professors that you have unbelievably acute magical senses and the same has even been alluded to by our dear Headmaster himself... Now, I don't know exactly what that entails, but I do understand that there's very little you miss when it comes to the magic happening around you. I'll be depending on you to monitor the proceedings this afternoon. I'd also like you to remain on the lookout just in case a student or proctor tries to summarily execute their adversary during one of the duels. Headmaster Dumbledore frowns on such things," Moody drawled out with yet another twisted grin.
"I promise to pay very close attention," Harry stoically replied, as he didn't know if he should grin with the man at the idea that his fellow students might try to kill each other.
"Good, good!" Professor Moody had that look in his eye again, as if he'd been testing Harry just then and one of his opinions had been confirmed. "There are some small rooms beneath the stands that you may use to change into the uniform, and then I'd like you to assist with some Warding and Conjuration."
"I don't mind helping out, but I'd rather not reveal anything too... dramatic... to the student body at large," Harry hedged, hopeful that Moody would understand his concerns.
Sure enough, Professor Moody looked like he'd just learned a lot from what Harry just said and apparently, he liked the sounds of it. The man nodded as if they were sharing a joke and then dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
Walking away from the celebrated ex-Auror, Harry was a little bit troubled by the man. His magic didn't like the man but the reasons for that were actually pretty obvious, and shouldn't have had much bearing on how he perceived him analytically. Nevertheless, Harry felt close-mouthed around Professor Moody, and he didn't like how much information the retired Auror had access to…
After entering the ramshackle, wooden storage room built under the stands, Harry quickly changed into the uniform that had been provided for the job. As he was putting it on Harry realized exactly why Fleur had been so excited about this proctor uniform and he knew that it was going to garner a lot of attention today. The uniform was a skin tight, black and white striped shirt, with sleeves that barely went past his shoulders and black pants in a similar fashion.
Tight… It was all just so damned tight, like the cat-suit that Fleur wore during the first mini-task, and what's more, it was clearly designed to look that way…
In the bond, Fleur was having a fantastic time taking in her husband's struggle with the uniform, and she not so casually suggested that he hurry up because she was looking forward to the view.
Shrugging his shoulders, Harry just decided to man up and live with his modesty being trampled all to hell with as much class as possible. He marched back out to the dueling platform and began helping the Ministry hired Dueling officials put together the stage and the stands.
Half An Hour later…
Harry James Potter was absolutely livid… for the following reasons:
The so-called 'Officials' that the Ministry hired were nothing but goons contracted on the cheap, which was completely obvious because their Conjuration skills were extremely shoddy and the entire stadium was of poor quality as a result. What's more, warning Professor Moody had received many angry curses and muttering but not nearly as much help as Harry had hoped to receive. Apparently, Moody was a piss poor Conjurer and a job the size that Harry was describing would be far beyond his skills.
Rather than solve the problem or call off the event, Moody asked Harry to do what he could about the Conjuration while he brought up the issue with the Ministry's hired men.
With very little choice in the matter, Harry made himself very busy bolstering weak points in whatever section of the stands he encountered problems in (all of them), until eventually, the construction would survive a single day of normal, mundane use, and Harry turned his attention towards the stands that were supporting his wife. A wife that was simmering with anger at this point, but was saving her magic for emergencies (since she wasn't powerful enough to Conjure thousands of planks of wood)….
Finally, Harry saw Professor Moody calling him over again, and he stomped in the man's direction with his hands balled up into fists.
"The ministry officials scoff at your claims and say you're but a child with no idea what you're talking about…" Moody's words were delivered in a picture perfect deadpan, a perfect counterpoint to the electric blue eye that was rapidly spinning in its socket.
"Give me a list of their names, Professor," Harry quietly seethed. "I just completely rebuilt those stands, and I will seek justice through my Noble house…"
"I'll have a list waiting for you at the end of the event… but what you just said… really," Moody asked. "Will the stands really hold up?"
With one last look at the stands with his magical senses, Harry begrudgingly nodded his head. "Normal use. No jumping around, no stampeding, no fires or floods or magical beasts…"
"I'll deliver that warning before I begin the event," Moody promised, before rubbing his neck with a look of both relief and chagrin upon his face. "I know you don't like public spectacle, Harry, but I'm still going to place you at one of the dueling platform's boundary corners. I need you to keep a close eye on the dueling barrier this afternoon, because I don't trust these Proctors."
With a clipped nod of his head and a long indrawn breath, Harry stalked away from Professor Moody, and he skull-fucked the other proctors with his eyes as he took a spot at a corner of the dueling platform.
Some of the Proctors had the courtesy to at least look embarrassed, but most of them just turned their chins up at him.
The list… Harry needed that list. He was magically winded at this point (which was really saying something), and was recouping his losses by converting ambient heat from the sun into magic (a slow process considering it was an overcast day in late November).
Within the following five minutes, the event began, and three different student bodies filed into the stands in an orderly fashion, as per Moody's instructions. Not long after that, student competitors from all three schools moved out towards the dueling platform, where they congregated within their own separate dugouts lining three ends of the platform.
It was time for the event to begin…