Reading Time: 80 Minutes

Title: A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Annwn
Author: Aussiefan70
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: Humor, Supernatural
Relationship(s): Gen
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Major Character Death, Violence-Against Children/Child Abuse. Mild character bashing, Ambiguous ending
Author Note:
Beta: Rachel, SASundance
Word Count: 53500
Summary: Amelia Bones is killed by Death Eaters in the summer before Harry Potter’s 6th year at Hogwarts, but Fate intervenes and she’s being given the chance to go back. She gets to see a number of scenarios where her intervention might change Harry’s life for the better, and she’s going to have to make a choice. Fortunately, she’ll be ably assisted by a co-conspirator of the avian kind.
Artist: Kylia
Artist Appreciation: A big shout out to Kylia for the great art work, and lots of it! Not to mention character casting advice as well. Many thanks!

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Chapter Three – Not The Quidditch! You’re Not Canceling The Quidditch!

(Australians of a certain era will probably get a laugh out of this title).

AN: Playing fast and loose with canon in this scenario. Because I can.

≈◆≈◆≈

All Harry Potter wanted was a calm, adventure-free year. Beginning his fourth year now, he was almost halfway through his time at Hogwarts and he’d not had a single year yet where he could just focus on schoolwork and being with his friends, not to mention being able to concentrate more on Quidditch than some annual crisis.

Climbing aboard the Hogwarts Express minutes before it was due to depart, and just ahead of Hermione and a quartet of Weasleys, Harry wondered whether he really did have that ‘saving people’ thing that Hermione accused him of, or if someone had been pulling his strings and manipulating his life all along. Tired of trying to figure out something that seemed utterly imponderable, he mentally shook himself and decided he could try to sort it all out another day. Today was for enjoying the train ride to Scotland with his best friends.

They lucked into somewhere to sit, as late as they were thanks to epic Weasley disorganisation, when Harry ran across Angelina Johnson in the train corridor. She was the new Gryffindor Quidditch captain, now that Oliver Woods had finished school and was playing for Puddlemere United. Shaking her head in fond disbelief that they’d managed to make it on the train barely in time, with a few scant minutes to spare, she said, “Come on you lot, follow me. I saved you a compartment next door to us Chasers. We can talk team strategy and plan out some training sessions on our way back to Hogwarts.”

Harry and the twins couldn’t help but smirk, not to mention inwardly groan; this was such an obsessed Oliver move, getting a jump-start on the season’s training. Ron perked up too, as he was hoping to try out for Keeper, while Ginny wondered if they had any space for a possible reserve Chaser. Hermione, the lone non-Quidditch fan, just huffed at all this nonsense, and anticipated spending the trip reading, by asking to borrow some of the twins’ sixth year textbooks and reading ahead.

By the time the trolley lady rolled through the carriage, Angelina had finally run out of steam, and Harry, Ron and Ginny rejoined Hermione in the compartment next door. Neville had showed up in their absence, and shared the main thread of gossip running the length of the train.

“The rumour is there’s supposed to be some sort of big event at Hogwarts this year, though either nobody knows what it is or they’re not saying,” the quiet boy shared with the group. “But the Ministry seems to be involved as well, because some of the students with parents who work there are hinting they know more than they’re saying.”

Ron responded, a touch belligerently, “Can’t be involving the whole Ministry. Dad never said anything.”

Ginny, who tended to be a lot less reactive than her brother, replied, “Yeah, but Dad doesn’t really talk much about work, except for the funny stories or odd events. He’s pretty strict about not sharing confidential information with other people.”

It was perhaps the worst timing for Malfoy and his goons to show up then, and imply they knew what the special event was, thus putting down Arthur Weasley and his children for not being in the know. Ron, as per usual, responded aggressively, and wands were drawn and threats thrown, until Harry, Hermione and Neville also pulled out their wands and threatened to stun the lot of them. Malfoy left then, still calling out insults and threatening to tell his father, thus ending his annual arrogance-filled visit during the ride to school. It took a while to get Volcano Ron to quit erupting, but eventually things settled back down.

Harry was then able to reveal his surprise treat to his friends, including the twins who’d been invited to join in. He’d taken Mrs Weasley into his confidence several days before, wanting to say thank you to the family for making him feel so welcome as always, as well as taking him to the Quidditch World Cup the previous week. She’d argued against his suggestion at first, then finally acceded to his wishes, given his determination to give something back.

So, while the younger members of the family were heading north, Arthur and Molly were enjoying the gift of lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, having decided to sample Mrs Tom’s ‘roast beef with all the fixings’ special. Hedwig, who’d been the intermediary between her boy and Tom, passing letters back and forth as they made arrangements, watched in anticipation as Harry opened up the folding table between the seats, laid two shrunken containers on the surface and touched each in turn with his wand. Two large picnic baskets sprung into being, as Harry cried, “Ta-da!!!”

Everyone’s eyes got big as Harry and Neville (who’d been drafted to help) unpacked an absolute feast of a ploughman’s lunch. There were crusty loaves of bread cut into thick slices, and several types of cheese from Cheddar to Stilton. Then came pots of chutney and mustard, juicy slices of roasted beef and ham, pork pies and Scotch eggs, a big jar of pickled onions, some bright red tomatoes and a bowl of fruit, to round things out. Four pairs of Weasley eyes had grown larger and larger as the bounty expanded, but it took just a word from Harry for everybody to dig in.

The twins spoke up, sharing sentences as usual, “Harrykins, our non-ginger brother…”

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Not that we aren’t grateful, as we’ll demonstrate…”

“By eating everything that is not nailed down.”

Harry just couldn’t help himself, breaking out into laughter at their antics. Catching his breath, he replied, “Hedwig played her part too. She helped me set things up with Tom at the Leaky Cauldron and brought over the shrunken-down baskets this morning.”

Fred and George, carefully rising only part-way out of their seats so as not to upset the table or the food, offered a bow to the pleased snowy owl, and promised their everlasting devotion. Hedwig squawked at their nonsense, even as she accepted this as her due, while Harry broke into laughter again, quickly joined by the rest of his companions.

Only one person didn’t quite join in with all the jollity to the same extent as everyone else, despite continuing to put away vast amounts of the food before him. Ron had always hated it when others showed they had money for something he himself would never be able to afford. There had been a near invisible undercurrent of jealousy to his friendship with Harry from the beginning, and it had risen more closely to the surface than ever, after Harry had casually gifted his friend with an expensive pair of Omnioculars at the World Cup. And now, he’d provided this vast lunch for the entire group. Ron’s slight withdrawal from the merriment went unnoticed, as everyone was used to Ron being distracted when an abundance of food was sitting before him. Eventually, he rejoined the conversation and the whole incident, such as it was, went unnoticed by the rest. However, that cauldron full of jealousy still simmered away, deep within the boy’s soul.

Reaching Hogsmeade, the mass of students were split into two unequal clusters, as the first years gathered around Hagrid and went down the hill to the boats, while everybody else surged towards the carriages. As he boarded one with his four friends, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Neville, he spotted a smaller, blonde girl standing in front of a carriage and seeming to pet and nuzzle an invisible creature. Despite wondering just who the girl was and what, if anything, she was petting, the idea soon flew out of his mind as everyone started to speculate about the mystery event once more.

Seated at their house tables a short time later, almost everyone wishing the Sorting would just go faster, they then ate as quickly as they could, even after the vast lunchtime picnic on the train. They endured Hermione’s rant on discovering that there were house-elves at Hogwarts, though kind, gentle Neville was able to talk her back down from the ledge of declaring a hunger strike, by explaining some basics about the race of beings and promising to take her down to the kitchens later so she could learn more in person. Harry could only stare in awe, because it was a very hard task to drag Hermione back down from her high horse, especially when she was set to take off at full gallop.

It was then that Professor Dumbledore stood from his throne-like chair at the High Table and began to make his usual start of year announcements, and then dropped the bombshell, that there would be no Quidditch Cup that year due to an alternate event due to start in October. He’d begun to provide details when he was interrupted by a grizzled older wizard, who appeared to be missing a few body parts, including half a nose, a leg and one eye, and who was introduced as Professor Moody, the new DADA instructor. That shifted the gossiping murmurs to the new topic for a minute or two, but Dumbledore soon rerouted their attention by announcing that the Triwizard Tournament, in abeyance for over a century, would be a year-long event at Hogwarts this year. He detailed some things, such as the other schools involved (Beauxbatons and Durmstrang), as well as the fact that three champions would be chosen, one from each school, and that students had to be of age to enter.

The twins weren’t the only ones to be upset by that last condition, though they were perhaps the loudest. Some final words were made, mostly encouraging the students to be welcoming to the delegations from the other schools, and to offer support to the chosen champions. The headmaster then sent everyone off to bed, more than likely aware that many of the older students would find sleep difficult with the turmoil of the Quidditch disappointment and Tournament excitement.

≈◆≈◆≈

Though speculation and anticipation continued to run rampant throughout the school regarding the upcoming tournament, as classes got underway, Harry was mostly upset still that there would be no Quidditch, as he’d desperately wanted to try some of the moves Viktor Krum had used at the World Cup final. Though he was also relieved that with the age restriction, he would be able to watch the event from the spectator seats for a change. The friends soon settled into the routine of classes and homework, while Neville took Hermione to the kitchen to talk to the house-elves as promised. She returned to the Gryffindor common room not entirely at peace with the nature of their bond to Wizarding families or the school, but the crusade was averted, much to Harry’s relief.

He showed his thanks to Neville the next weekend, when he volunteered to assist his friend with his special Herbology project that Professor Sprout had approved. Harry was a bit surprised at how much he enjoyed that peaceful few hours, digging beds in the greenhouse and tending the rather unique collection of plants Neville had found. Both boys tended to be reticent about their home lives beyond the basics, but Harry confided that he’d always most enjoyed tending the garden out of all his chores at the Dursleys, while Neville admitted he liked to escape to the greenhouses and gardens when his grandmother began to compare him to his father, a competition he was always destined to lose. Harry continued to join Neville in his tasks most weekends, to the befuddlement of Ron, who couldn’t understand not sleeping in as late as possible. The new interest also baffled Hermione, who didn’t understand the joys of working with plants outside of class, unless they could get some form of extra credit from Professor Sprout.

The school remained quite calm during the months of September and October, if one excepted the Defence classes and Professor Moody’s propensity for shouting “Constant vigilance!” at random. Also the mental anguish caused to both Harry and Neville over the man teaching the Unforgivable curses in graphic detail. The pair of boys spent a good long time in the greenhouse the following weekend, with Neville finally able to share what had happened to his parents and their current condition, while Harry returned the confidences by explaining what he felt and saw when Dementors were close. It bonded the two boys even more deeply, expanding Harry’s closest group of friends from two to three. The other two members of the former trio were a bit bewildered by the sudden addition, but said little, as Neville’s innately kind and gentle spirit made it hard to take offence.

Almost before they knew it, the end of October arrived. A notice on the bulletin board detailed the arrangements to welcome the other schools, and the next night saw every student, gathered by House, arrayed around the entrance to the Castle. The biting cold made staying calm and collected somewhat difficult, despite warming charms and Hermione’s remonstrations for fidgeting and not maintaining a sense of decorum. Though the appearance of an enormous flying carriage, pulled by magnificent winged horses, soon caught everyone’s attention. After a brief exchange of greetings, the less-than-warmly-dressed Beauxbatons students hurried into the Great Hall. The Durmstrang contingent arrived shortly after, via a ship that emerged from below the surface of the Black Lake. Clad in heavy winter cloaks, the students survived the greetings much better, though Harry wasn’t too sure about Ron’s ability to survive the entire year when he nearly swooned at the sight of Viktor Krum.

The feast was quite a welcome change as the Hogwarts students got to try dishes from other parts of Europe, ones that were favourites of the visiting students. The pronouncement of the Goblet of Fire as the arbiter of who was the most deserving student in each school to take on the title of Champion, seemed odd to Harry. But then again, there were many odd things that seemed to be widely accepted in the Wizarding world, so in the end, he just added it to the tally. Walking back to Gryffindor Tower after dinner, Ron was still asserting that he could handle the tournament tasks if he was given the chance, while Hermione was berating him for thinking he was equal to students with three years more schooling. The twins had disappeared, plotting some means of cheating the age line Dumbledore had laid around the Goblet, and it was anyone’s guess what they’d come up with. Harry just rolled his eyes at their antics and agreed with Neville that there wasn’t enough gold in Gringotts to entice either of them to want to enter the tournament.

With Halloween being on a Monday, the three Heads of the schools had agreed on making the day a holiday and cancelling classes. In truth, it was probably a very smart move, Harry thought, as he suspected Hermione would have been the only one capable of paying attention to their lessons. Quite a crowd had gathered in the Entrance Hall to watch who was entering their names, and the gossip and speculation buzzed freely throughout the Castle, particularly over meals in the Great Hall. The Halloween feast at dinnertime was a true reflection of the immense skills to be found within the cadre of Hogwarts house-elves. Sitting next to Neville and across from Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, Harry could feel the anticipation rising, as did every other person in the Hall.

Dinner over, Dumbledore explained the procedure for the Champion selection and then the lights dimmed. In short order, three names came out of the Goblet, first Viktor Krum, then a blonde named Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, and finally, Hufflepuff’s Seeker and Quidditch captain, Cedric Diggory. The latter received great acclaim, particularly from his fellow Badgers who rarely got to be in the limelight. All three Champions had moved to a small anteroom behind the High Table, and Dumbledore was wrapping things up, when the Goblet changed colours again, and a fourth slip of paper bearing a name was expelled.

Harry’s anxiety kicked in the second the last name appeared, because it was Halloween and he had a terrible track record of bad things happening on this day. When Dumbledore announced “Harry Potter”, he could only let his head thump down onto the table and think, ‘Not again!’

The headmaster urged him to join the other Champions in the anteroom, but Harry was rooted to his seat. He hadn’t entered his name, but he couldn’t decide what he should do? Neville put a comforting hand on his back and assured his friend that they’d figure out what happened. Harry could only say, over and over, “I didn’t put my name in, you know I didn’t, right?” Ron and Hermione stayed silent as an angry buzz began to spread throughout the Great Hall. Dumbledore wasn’t helping at all by doing nothing except calling Harry up front to join the rest of the Champions.

Hermione finally spoke, urging Harry to do as the Professor had said, even encouraging Neville to physically get their friend moving. On the seemingly endless trek to the top table, all Harry could think was ‘I didn’t enter’, though as the angry sounds of the rest of the students filtered in, that thought interchanged with ‘It’s second year and the Heir of Slytherin all over again’.

The meeting with the other students, professors and Ministry officials was as chaotic as one might expect it to be. Despite all Harry’s denials, it seemed nobody was inclined to help the fourteen-year-old boy find a way out of the Tournament, and Snape was his usual nasty self to Harry, accusing him of cheating. Not that any of the other Hogwarts professors were coming to his defence either. Eventually, they all calmed down enough to hear the only clue about the first task, which was that it would test the Champions’ courage and would be held in late November.

The physically and emotionally numb Gryffindor made the long climb towards his dorm and hopefully his bed. If he’d been thinking straight, he’d have realised that hope was in vain, as the picture frame door opened to reveal a celebratory party in full swing. The twins, still sporting the long white beards that symbolised their failure to beat the age line, drew him in and offered wild congratulations. The mood in the room was mostly celebratory, because they had a Gryffindor champion, even if it happened a little unconventionally. But there were certainly other voices that could be heard, accusing Harry of cheating.

Realising his friend was utterly overwhelmed, Neville hauled Harry by the hand, through the crowd, to the stairs, parting those in the way better than a bludger at full speed. As they climbed the stairs towards their dorm, Harry gave his friend a deeply appreciative look; he really was at the end of his tether. Which meant he absolutely didn’t need what was to come next.

Harry and Neville were greeted by a silent Ron lying on his bed, though that didn’t last long before he outright accused Harry of cheating to enter his name, and, showing a mile-wide jealous streak, argued that Harry was trying to keep the fame and fortune to himself by deliberately trying to keep Ron in the dark.

No matter Harry’s protestations, nor Neville’s attempts to reason with the redhead, nothing they attempted had any impact at all. He was absolutely convinced he knew that Harry had cheated, not only in the tournament entry process, but also in his friendship with his best mate. When Ron threw himself back into his bed and pulled the curtains, Harry slumped on the edge of his own bed, with Neville dropping down beside him.

“He’ll calm down, Harry. He always does if you give him some time,” said Neville.

“Yeah, I s’pose,” Harry replied morosely. But he wasn’t sure. It just might be that this time was the last straw, because how could you trust a so-called friend who could believe you to be a cheat. Then he realised something else. Hermione hadn’t been out there in the common room, or even here in the dorm waiting to talk to him either, though lecturing him might be more accurate. He groaned inwardly and hoped yet another of his friends wasn’t mad at him. Neville gave him a one-armed hug, then encouraged him to get some rest. “Come on, get changed and get some sleep. Hopefully things will seem a bit brighter in the morning,” he said to his friend. “Would you like me to go ask Madam Pomfrey for a sleeping draught? I don’t mind at all.”

Giving Neville a wan smile, Harry replied, “I may be a crap friend according to my so-called best mate, but I couldn’t put you through having to brave the insanity down in the common room twice. I’ll be alright. Though I think we should get to breakfast early in the morning, don’t you? Hopefully it won’t be so crowded.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me. Be ready to head down at seven?” Neville went over to his bed and grabbed the pyjamas from under his pillow. Harry agreed and did the same, and they both headed off to the bathroom to change and brush their teeth, and then call it a night.

≈◆≈◆≈

It wasn’t any better the next morning, nor had Harry gotten much sleep. As he’d feared, it was a rerun of second year, with his days spent dodging hexes and jinxes, listening to name-calling and accusations, and this time without Ron there to have his back. In fact, the redhead had taken to hissing those same accusations along with many others, which hurt Harry deeply. Fortunately, Neville was as steadfast a friend as you could ask for, partnering with Harry during classes and coming well out of his shell to dispute the others’ accusations. He’d willingly stood at Harry’s side when he approached Cedric again, to reiterate he did not enter or wish to be a Champion, and that he considered Cedric to be the true Hogwarts representative. The Hufflepuff seemed torn, given he really did epitomise the best qualities of his House, but he was dragged away by a group of his housemates who weren’t at all willing to be forgiving to the younger Gryffindor.

As for Hermione, she had appeared at breakfast the next morning, when the boys were about halfway done. She said she believed Harry and was willing to help research the tasks and strategies to get through them. But, as in previous years, she was struggling to balance being friends with Harry and with Ron (no matter how argumentative that friendship might be), when Ron was accusing Harry of being a cheater and a liar. She had never done well when torn in two directions, so her presence and assistance would end up being pretty hit and miss over the three-and-a-half weeks until the first task.

Which turned out to be dragons. Hagrid, bless him, had led Harry out to their pens, under his invisibility cloak, and Neville hadn’t been able to resist coming too. They’d taken note of the breeds of the four nesting mothers and snuck back to the Castle. Knowing Karkaroff from Durmstrang and Maxime from Beauxbatons knew what the task involved (Harry could have done without the sight of Hagrid taking the giant French headmistress on a date), he talked things over with Neville and they agreed Cedric should be warned too. Fortunately, Harry had been able to take him aside for a couple of minutes and explain what he’d seen. Cedric went rather pale on hearing it was dragons, but managed to offer an awkward thank you to his competitor before they went their separate ways.

Harry and Neville had been scouring the library for information on the various dragon breeds and the best ways to handle them, but had been stumped as to how to get by them to finish the task. An almost throw away line in DADA class from Professor Moody struck them both though. Seamus had asked how to choose which spell to cast when you were in a fight.

“Go with your strengths, lad. Pick the spells you’re strongest in and try to get the upper hand quickly. Because in a long battle, someone who is more magically powerful or knows more spells is almost always going to get the better of you eventually. So hit ‘em hard, right from the beginning and throw the strongest spells you know.”

Harry and Neville shared a glance; they had both gotten the same idea from Moody’s words. They skipped lunch in the Great Hall and went to the kitchens, where they’d have more privacy.

“Well, we both know one of the things you’re best at, Harry, and that is flying. And you can pull off the aerial acrobatics you’ll likely need as well.”

“I think you’re right, Neville. Having a topnotch broom like the Firebolt will help too. But we can only take our wands in with us, so we have to figure out how to get it to come from the Castle. Oh, and how to put fire repellent spells on it too. Angelina might kill me if my broom got burnt. And it’s special because it was sent by Sirius, so I don’t want to see it damaged either.”

Harry had let Neville into the secret that Sirius was innocent and that they were in contact earlier in the year. He’d taken the news with equanimity and had promised to talk it over with his gran over the Christmas break, given she was a member of the Wizengamot. He’d have liked to talk with her earlier than that but didn’t trust that a letter sent by owl would remain private.

Neville suddenly perked up. “What if you used a Summoning charm? I know we don’t learn it until next year, but I bet Professor Flitwick or one of the older students could help us learn it.”

“All the way from the Castle though?” Harry thought the idea had real merit, he just wasn’t sure he could power the spell over that distance.

“But what if I had your broom under your cloak, so you’d only have to summon it from the stands? I bet that would be much easier.” Neville’s enthusiasm was infectious.

“That would be brilliant! Alright, we have a plan. Now we just have to learn a few spells. Good thing we have Charms next. I know the teachers aren’t supposed to help us, but if you asked to learn them and I just happened to be there too, I bet Flitwick would let us get away with it.” And, of course, the Charms professor happily agreed to provide a couple of private lessons. One benefit of those sessions was that Flitwick would tell Harry that his proficiency with picking up Charms was a trait he’d inherited from his mum, who’d been one of Flitwick’s favourite students. Once this tournament was over, Harry decided that he’d be asking if the professor would mind telling him more stories about his mother, because all too often, all he would hear about was only his dad.

Harry’s focus on keeping his head down, avoiding being tripped by a jinx or a shove and falling down the stairs, along with researching and practicing his spells with Neville, continued undiminished until a few days before the task, when Colin Creevey was sent to bring him from Potions class to attend a Weighing of the Wands ceremony. Given that was about the last thing he wanted to participate in, Harry had feigned feeling unwell as they passed one of the bathrooms and dashed inside and into one of the stalls. Fortunately, he had some leftover test sweets from the twins’ Skiving Snackbox that was under development. Swallowing down a Puking Pastille, the sounds soon sent Creevey to find a professor. Minutes later, having transfigured a quill into a bucket, McGonagall took Harry through the nearest Floo to the Infirmary. His ‘illness’, resistant to Madam Pomfrey’s efforts, meant that he missed the ceremony and the talons of Rita Skeeter. It was only after Ollivander was brought to the Hospital Wing to assess Harry’s wand, under McGonagall’s supervision, that a last ditch try of one more potion seemed to take effect. Fortunately, nobody noticed Harry swallowing the reversal sweet moments after downing the potion. Nevertheless, after a light lunch in the Infirmary, where he’d been joined by Neville, and an afternoon resting in ‘his’ bed, Harry was quite refreshed and looking forward to dinner. Now there was just the task to get through.

≈◆≈◆≈

Despite considerable periods spent waiting, the day of the first task passed at an almost ridiculous pace when he recalled the events later. The Champions had been called to the tent to ‘find out about the task’ and draw their opponent, as the stands filled outside. The time in the tent only gave him a sense of blurred-together boredom and stress later, and it was almost a relief to be called out as the last competitor.

He hurried into the arena, pleased to spot Neville giving him a thumbs up from the stands above, where he sat at the end of a row so nobody would get clobbered in head by his broom. The fact that Hedwig had taken a perch on his friend’s shoulder, to watch out for her boy, brought a smile to his face. From the time he called out, “Accio Firebolt” until he retrieved the golden egg and returned back to his starting point (with only a scrape on his leg from the whip of the Horntail’s tail spike as he’d made his final turn back to the finishing point), with not only the shortest time set by the Champions, but he’s also received the least number of injuries. Though Fleur Delacour was a close second, only getting a minor burn and taking less than a minute longer in completing her task.

Harry was happy to see Neville in Madam Pomfrey’s tent, waiting for him after his friend had slipped in under the cloak. It took one healing spell and a salve to put Harry to rights, before he was called out with the other Champions to receive their scores. All four had retrieved their eggs, though with varying consequences to the strategies used.

In the end, Viktor Krum came fourth, despite Karkaroff’s efforts to pad the score, as he’d harmed the dragon who’d then crushed a number of her eggs. Cedric Diggory came in third, mostly because he’d taken the longest and had sustained some nasty (though now healing) burns. Apparently there’d been quite the argument over Harry’s use of the broom, but Dumbledore had argued he’d just used his innate flying skills, in the same way the French witch had used her part-Veela traits. The judges, in the end, left Harry and Fleur tied for first place. The fact that most of the Hogwarts students booed his results when they’d responded wildly to Cedric’s score was a little depressing to Harry, despite being not the least bit unexpected. After all, easily seventy-five percent of them wore badges that said ‘Potter Stinks’ when switched from the first message supporting Diggory.

As Harry and Neville made their way back towards the Castle and what would inevitably be another excuse for a party in the Gryffindor common room, two people who’d been partly or totally absent from Harry’s life the last few weeks, dashed up. Harry narrowly avoided being crushed by one of Hermione’s over-the-top hugs, while Ron, looking deeply perturbed, commented, “Blimey, Harry. I reckon whoever put your name in, they’re really trying to kill you!”

Harry stopped cold at that and faced the taller boy directly. “Huh, I never would have figured that out, Ron,” his tone more than a touch sarcastic.

Fumbling for a response, all the ginger boy could say was, “Well, at least me and Hermione can help you figure out what the clue is in that egg. It’ll be an adventure, just like always.”

“So no apology then, for calling me a cheat and a liar, or accusing me of leaving you out deliberately, or ignoring me when you weren’t insulting me for the last three weeks? Oh, and did you miss Neville standing right next to me, like he has since my name came out, and who helped me get prepared?”

“Harry,” came that remonstrating tone that had always jarred his nerves. “You know that Ron’s sorry for what he said. We should get past that though and start working on the clue for the second task.” Hermione made an unsuccessful grab for the golden egg.

Harry nodded, as if in answer to the question in his own mind, ‘They’re going to want to pretend the last three weeks never happened and take over my life again’. He’d learned a lot in that time about unselfish friendship, thanks to Neville. Not letting go of the egg, he replied, “I’ll take a pass, I think. Neither of you have said sorry, and Neville has been here the whole time. We did alright planning for today. I reckon we’ll do just fine keeping on that way for the other tasks.” At that, Harry turned on his heel and started towards the Castle, ready to sit down to lunch. Neville was at his side and the pair said nothing as they walked back from the pitch. What was there to say when you saw an old friendship imploding, and found you didn’t want to do anything to stop it from happening. Hedwig, riding along on her boy’s shoulder, gave a comforting nuzzle to his hair, but couldn’t say she disagreed with the decision.

≈◆≈◆≈

Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was ready to tear her hair out. She’d been working at a breakneck speed for the last three months. Firstly, there was the Death Eater attack at the Quidditch World Cup. Then the accusation that Bartemius Crouch’s elf had stolen a wand and cast the Morsmordre into the sky, before summarily being given clothes. Which was utterly ridiculous; house-elves didn’t have to use wands to perform magic, leaving a complete mystery and corrupted crime scene to interfere with determining who had been responsible. Added to that had been the slow Auror response to the Death Eater attacks, requiring regular World Cup attendees, many from other countries, to have to step in to rescue the Muggle family and put out the tent fires. Finding more than a few of the Aurors on duty to be impaired or inebriated, having partaken of the plentiful fire whiskey, hadn’t made her day either. Then there were all of the meetings she’d been dragged to for the planning and implementation of the Triwizard Tournament, despite having no role to play at all. Not to mention the ongoing search for Sirius Black, and trying to talk Cornelius Fudge out of ever more stupid ideas to make himself look good (he’d decided taking a strong stand on law and order would be just the thing), and it felt like she hadn’t come up for air for months.

That Harry Potter had been named a fourth Champion had barely registered, not helped by the fact that Dumbledore never called in outside help for issues at Hogwarts, so events there tended to evade her notice. She’d read the letter her niece Susan had sent from school, and had seen that she was upset by the spotlight being stolen from fellow Hufflepuff, Cedric Diggory, but Susan also tended to be rather passionate in expressing her feelings, so that also seemed par for the course. It was the letter she received, right after the first task, that shook her awake.

Dear Auntie,

I HATE HARRY POTTER! He not only cheated his way into becoming a Champion, but he cheated his way into finishing tied for first place in today’s task! I mean, he had someone bring his broom down to the stadium and then he flew to get the golden egg from his dragon! They were only allowed to use their wands, everybody knew that. But ‘treat me special because I’m the boy who lived’ Potter got away with breaking the rules. LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES!!!

Poor Cedric only got third place and he was much more creative. He transfigured some of the rocks into dogs to distract his dragon so he could get to the egg. He got a bit burned at the end, but Madam Pomfrey fixed him right up. He just epitomises all the best Hufflepuff qualities and deserved to win. All of us Badgers agree.

One of the Slytherins created these big badges that say ‘Support Cedric Diggory, the REAL Hogwarts Champion’. We’re all wearing them. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that when you press the centre, the message switches to POTTER STINKS. We all did that in Herbology class the other week, because we share that with the Gryffindors. Even a few students from his own House were wearing them too.

Auntie, can’t you do anything about Potter? Surely he broke some law by cheating his way in, or cheating on the task. He’s a disgrace to Hogwarts and I don’t think he should be allowed to stay in school! Please do something!

Love,

Susan

Sighing, and rubbing her forehead courtesy of developing yet another headache, she found herself deeply disappointed in her niece. Susan had always been a pretty level-headed child growing up, but being away at school in a divisive environment thanks to the House system for most of the year, coupled with the onset of puberty, meant that she’d become less of the girl she’d been raised to be. Just the number of exclamation marks in that letter alone proved that point.

Knowing she’d have to at least look into things enough to appease her niece, she sent off a memo to Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror, wondering if he’d placed any Aurors at the school for security. It was only a few minutes later that he responded, by arriving in her office, with Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Senior Aurors, in tow. Wordlessly passing over Susan’s letter for the two wizards to read, Amelia was hardly surprised when Rufus barely suppressed a snort of laughter, before commenting, “I’m so glad that my three were all boys.” Kingsley, given that he had no children of his own, wisely just stayed silent, much as he would have liked to commiserate with Madam Bones over the histrionics. After all, he’d grown up with three sisters.

“It will come as no shock to you at all, Amelia, that Dumbledore refused my offer to have an Auror presence there yesterday. And I’m sure it would have just been a slight misunderstanding at play, if anything had gone wrong as well.” That statement induced his boss to just roll her eyes at Dumbledore’s normal excuse, though Rufus had not missed the mark with that observation.

“Seeing as Ministry officials were permitted to join the students and staff as spectators, I sent Shacklebolt here and Salomon to Hogwarts to act as my eyes and ears. We didn’t have enough time last night to go over your report, Kingsley, so now is as good a time as any.”

Clearing his throat, as he and Scrimgeour took seats in front of his boss’s desk, Shacklebolt began. “There were no issues with the crowd of students, families, teachers and ministry staff beyond they were loud enough to make your ears ring at times. Diggory went first, followed by the girl from Beauxbatons, then Krum. Harry Potter, the poor kid, had to wait until last and ended up with the biggest and nastiest of the dragons as well. Looking back at it, every single Champion’s actions and choice of spells suggested that they’d had some foreknowledge of the task, despite it supposedly having been a secret.”

“Don’t know how the bloody fools expected to keep four dragons a secret when they were right there in the Forbidden Forest for nearly a month,” Scrimgeour interjected.

Continuing, Kingsley added, “The fact that young Potter had a strategy to fly and that his broom was already hidden in the stands with Neville Longbottom, made that pretty obvious.”

“Anyone hanging around that you didn’t think should be there?” Amelia asked, casting about for reasons to intervene, should it be necessary.

“Not that I saw, though you might want to have a talk with Mad-Eye Moody. He’s been there all term and could probably tell you if something seemed off,” observed Shack. “I will say though, that loads of the students were wearing those awful badges. To my mind, that’s nothing but bullying, and yet it seems not a single professor was taking any action at all.”

The badges had disturbed the experienced Auror. No child, and at fourteen, Potter was still legally a child, should have to be subjected to being shunned by virtually the entire school, and without the help of a single adult either, if he had to make a guess.

“What would you say, Rufus, if sometime next week, we popped in to Hogwarts without any notice, to talk with the Headmaster about forward planning for security and public safety at the final task, which thanks to attending days of interminable meetings, I know will be open to the public?”

Rufus, not having come down in the last rain shower, replied, “And let me guess, I get to annoy and distract Dumbledore and maybe even hash out a plan if we’re lucky. While you go to catch up with Moody, Susan and possibly a fourth year Gryffindor?”

“Well, Alastor was my Training Auror back in the day,” she replied with a smirk. “It would be rude of me not to stop by and say hello. Probably be smart to get his thoughts on risk areas and anything else he feels that needs watching.”

“It’s a pity I don’t have an excuse to come too. It would be good to catch up with Mad-Eye. He’s been a bit of a recluse since retiring.” Shack sounded disappointed.

“Oh, didn’t you know? You’ve been tasked to get the training to work on risk assessment for large-scale events. This would be a good place to start,” Amelia quickly replied, with just a hint of self-satisfied smugness. “Actually, it’s not an excuse. After the debacle at the World Cup and the never-ending meetings that followed, it was something I felt that we sorely needed. I had actually planned to schedule a meeting with you both for next week, to talk over the position.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kingsley replied. “So how do we manage to get to talk to Mr Potter without alerting the Headmaster?”

“My house-elf, Bronty, is authorised to enter the Castle, given the off chance that I might need to get an urgent message to Susan, in case of a major security issue or some other emergency. Now, if Bronty were to make a slight detour to the Gryffindor Tower, well, what Albus doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Ooh, sneaky, boss. This is why they pay you the big Galleons,” Kingsley teased back in return.

“All rumours of big Galleons are greatly exaggerated,” was the wryly sarcastic response in return. “All right, I’ll send a letter back to Susan, and try to find a halfway tactful way of saying ‘Get over yourself’. Let’s plan on going to Hogwarts on Friday afternoon. If we arrive around three o’clock, we’ll have time to harass Dumbledore and catch the students after their last class and before dinner.”

“Sounds good, boss,” Rufus replied. “I suggest we Apparate to the school gates, then send a Patronus to Hagrid to let us in. That way we don’t give Dumbledore the right to refuse us Floo entry if he decides ‘it isn’t a convenient time’. It doesn’t pay to show our hand too early.”

Scrimgeour’s experience in planning operations was clearly evident in the points he was making. Then again, his boss had planned more than a few of her own, and she was known as someone who’d never bollocksed up an op. Merlin knew they’d need that sort of track record and luck to succeed with this plan. The two Aurors left then, they had plenty on their own plates. It was up to Amelia Bones to get their feet in Hogwarts’ doors.

≈◆≈◆≈

Now left to her own devices, Amelia wrote the easier of the two letters she would need to send.

Dear Mr Potter,

My name is Amelia Bones and I am the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Forgive me for not contacting you after you were entered into the Triwizard Tournament at Halloween. My only excuse is that I was still dealing with the aftermath of the World Cup final, and the security flaws that became all too evident in the wake of that event.

I’m afraid that I, like the rest of the Ministry, was persuaded to accept that if your name came out of the Goblet, that you would be compelled to compete. The Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries that I have consulted since suggested there might have been a remote chance of avoiding the magical contract coming into play, if they’d been called in immediately (as in within minutes). But even they could make no promises, so I must apologise to you for not being able to keep you out of the tournament and safe, even if no one else at the Ministry seems to have bothered to do so.

With that in mind, I would like the opportunity to meet with you and determine if there is any help we at the DMLE might be able to provide, within the contract’s restrictions. I will do my best to also obtain a written copy of the contract so that it can be gone over with a fine-toothed comb. I am scheduled to be at Hogwarts after classes finish Friday afternoon for another matter. Would you be willing to meet with me then?

My house-elf Bronty, will be delivering this letter to you. You may reply via Bronty or owl, whichever suits you best.

Looking forward to meeting with you in person.

Sincerely,

Amelia Bones

Director of the DMLE

Putting that letter aside, Amelia pulled another blank piece of parchment towards her and sat in pensive thought for several long minutes. She’d really had few major disciplinary problems with Susan over the years, and it would likely take more than a letter to address all the issues and alarms she had raised in her aunt’s mind, but she needed to nip this in the bud. She’d never tolerated bullies before and wasn’t about to start with her own family now. With a sigh, she grabbed her quill and began to write.

Dear Susan,

I was deeply disappointed by the letter I received from you today. You know how strongly I feel about bullying, and yet, here you are engaging in it proudly, despite knowing my views.

Make no mistake, those badges are bullying, and I’m sure that certain students are taking it much further and attacking Mr Potter in the hallways as well. I am also less than impressed that your professors are allowing this to continue, something I will be addressing with them during my meetings at the school on Friday afternoon.

Please tell Bronty what time your last class finishes, and I will let you know what time I wish to talk with you. Also be aware that if you are still in possession of one of those badges come Friday, you will not like the consequences.

Aunt Amelia

Reaching into the drawer for what seemed to have lately become a daily headache potion dosage, she sealed both letters and called for Bronty to make the deliveries, explaining the imperative that Mr Potter’s letter be passed along only when he was alone. Nodding in understanding, the house-elf popped out of the Ministry and was inside Hogwarts Castle moments later.

It was half an hour before Bronty returned with the report, ”Missy Susan was very grumpy reading your letter. She finishes her last class, Transfiguration, at half past three on Friday. She will be waiting for Madam Bonesie in the meeting room off the Entrance Hall within ten minutes of that class being done. She asked me to give you this and sent her apologies.” Bronty handed over the now infamous badge, which was every bit as garish and childish as she’d expected. After a cursory inspection, she dropped it into her middle drawer.

“And were you able to find Mr Potter?”

Bronty nodded enthusiastically. “Mr Harry Potter says he will send his reply with his owl.”

Later that day, having put the Hogwarts issues aside for the moment to deal with the vast pile of memos and reports still in need of attention, Madam Bones was a bit surprised by the sudden fluttering of wings, as a gorgeous snowy owl flew through her open door and landed on the corner of her desk by her elbow. Owls weren’t technically meant to be able to fly through the Ministry. They were supposed to arrive in the mail room and deposit their parcels or letters there, to be distributed by the Ministry’s house-elves. Not only was it a security measure, allowing the elves to check for harmful spells or substances, it also prevented the internal memo system of the paper planes from going into a slowdown, courtesy of some long-forgotten rivalry with the mail owls.

Which meant that this owl was not only very clever, but was also very sneaky, a thought that brought a smile to Amelia’s face. “Hello, my lovely. I assume you have a letter for me.” Hedwig stuck out a leg and Amelia removed the rolled parchment with ease.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any owl treats here, because we don’t normally get direct owl mail to the offices. But I have some lovely Scottish shortbread. Would that do in a pinch?” Hedwig nodded enthusiastically. She’d managed to con shortbread out of Professor McGonagall before and it was rather good. Not quite as perfect as bacon, but certainly a decent substitute. Soon, she was settled down with several biscuits on her own plate, along with a teacup full of water, content to snack while she waited on a reply to her boy.

Helping herself to a couple of biscuits as well, Amelia settled back in her chair to read Harry Potter’s reply.

Dear Madam Bones,

Thank you for getting in contact with me. I appreciate that you are the only Ministry person so far who seems to want to get me out of the tournament, even if it’s not possible to do that.

I would be happy to meet with you on Friday afternoon. My last class finishes at 3:30, so if you could let me know where and when to meet you, Hedwig (my owl) will be happy to bring a note back as she really loves the long flights where she can stretch her wings. Oh, and bacon. She really, really loves bacon.

Just a thought, would it be alright to bring the golden egg clue for you to listen to? All I hear is terrible screeching that makes no sense at all. I would appreciate any suggestions you might have.

Thanks again,

Harry Potter

“Well, hello there, Hedwig, now that I know your name. What do you say to us girls working together to try to keep that boy of yours safe?” Hedwig’s response was an emphatic hoot and flap of her broad wings. Amelia just nodded her agreement, then gave the owl a chest scratch. There’d be hell to pay if Fudge found out what she was planning, but she couldn’t see a boy being forced to repeatedly put his life on the line, for the sport of it. By Merlin, she was taking a stand.

≈◆≈◆≈

Come Friday afternoon, Dumbledore wasn’t too happy seeing the small DMLE delegation Apparate in without warning, accompanying Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, who’d decided to actually make an appointment for himself, so as to mask he’d be bringing Madam Bones and Shacklebolt with him.

Having invited the trio into his office, he began to sound out their intentions, when he was interrupted by the blithe comment of, “Just ignore me, Albus. I’m just playing a little hooky. It’s Friday afternoon, my desk is as clear as it ever seems to get, and I thought I’d tag along, and sneak off to catch up with my niece and Alastor. Haven’t seen him in ages. He was my trainer, you know.”

Dumbledore, caught on the backfoot by Amelia’s words, could only reply, “Of course, my dear. I’m sure you remember the way to the DADA office and Hufflepuff House. Perhaps we can chat before you leave.” Amelia just gave him a polite smile, which was a non-answer to the last veiled suggestion to talk. She left the office without saying another word, to go meet with Susan as she’d planned.

How that meeting went was best left between the two Bones witches. It was noted in the days following, that Susan had joined Cedric Diggory in campaigning for their housemates to get rid of the badges and tone down the animosity towards Harry. They did not achieve total success, nor had they really expected to. But a good half of the Badgers turned over a new leaf, much to the fourth Champion’s relief. At this point, Harry would take what he could get.

His meeting with Madam Bones had been enlightening. She’d managed to get hold of a copy of the magical contract tying him to the tournament. An interesting fact emerged from their reading. While the teachers in the three schools were banned from assisting the Champions (though Amelia agreed Harry and Neville had gotten around that one nicely in the first task, when they’d asked Flitwick to help Neville with some Charms spells), there was no restriction at all for receiving adult assistance of any kind or from any other source.

“Excellent, that lets me provide you with help, either from myself or some of my Aurors. That is, if you’d like the assistance. I could understand if you wanted to take care of things yourself.”

Harry rushed to answer, “Oh please, I’ll take all the help I can get! It’s pretty much just Neville and me trying to plan how to get through each task. We can’t even find out what that second clue is.”

There was a knock at the door and a dark-skinned wizard, bald-headed and wearing Auror robes, poked his head in and was waved inside by his boss’s boss. Offering an explanation for his presence, “Head Auror Scrimgeour sent me to provide an escort for you, ma’am.” At her raised eyebrow, expressing disbelief in needing help, he continued hastily, “Honestly, I think he was working up to a full-on shouting match with the Headmaster and didn’t want witnesses,” he concluded.

Unable to repress a soft laugh, Amelia introduced the newcomer as Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the volunteers offering to help Harry out. Then it was time to return to their interrupted plans.

“Let’s hear it then, shall we?” Amelia replied, casting a privacy spell to avoid tipping off others that she was with Harry when the noise began, as he opened the egg.

He was right, the screeching was ear-battering and unintelligible. But it stirred a memory from her Auror days. Harry, recognising she was trying to figure it out, sat quietly, awaiting her conclusions.

“Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t remember it immediately,” Amelia exclaimed. “That’s Mermish. You have to get your head under water to hear the message clearly.”

Harry screwed up his face, “Just what I wanted to do at the end of November, go swimming in the Black Lake. To listen to an egg sing in Mermish.”

“You’re forgetting something perhaps, Mr Potter? Might we solve the problems with a little magic?” Amelia asked with a smirk.

Harry simply rolled his eyes. He had indeed succumbed to the bane of all Muggleborn and raised students, forgetting to try for a magical solution first.

Chuckling softly, Amelia pulled out her wand and Transfigured a chair into a large rectangular tub, then filled it using Aguamenti. The final step was another simple Transfiguration, this time from several books on the desk to what appeared to be a trio of old-fashioned brass hearing trumpets. Harry had seen them during a documentary his class had watched in primary school and knew they were made redundant by hearing aid technology.

“How can those let us hear underwater? Sound doesn’t carry very well that way.”

“Magic again, Harry. Or we could just stick Kingley’s head underwater and let him listen,” Amelia teased, making fun of the shaven-headed wizard.

“Aww, now that’s not nice,” Harry chided, before joining the joke, “I was looking forward to practicing my drying charms on Auror Shacklebolt.”

“Call me Kingsley. After all, I suspect the three of us will be spending plenty of time working together over the next seven months.”

“Agreed. You may call me Amelia too. Well, come on then you two. Let’s have a listen.” With that, she dumped the egg in the tub of water, put the ear trumpet to her ear, followed by the other two, then opened the egg. They listened through four or five times, to ensure they had all the information, before closing the egg again and returning to their discussion.

“It’s clear that it’s going to be an underwater task and Harry will have an hour to retrieve what’s been taken from him.” Kingsley led off the discussion.

“It’s got to be in the lake here. To my knowledge, there’s no other freshwater Merfolk in the rest of Scotland, and they did say come seek us,” added Amelia.

“Oh great, which idiot decided on swimming in a half-frozen lake in February? Do you think they mean it, we won’t get back what they take if we don’t finish on time?” Harry was thinking about his Firebolt, his dad’s cloak and the photo album Hagrid had given him in first year. He didn’t have much, but those were the things that mattered.

“But how can they just take something of mine without asking? Isn’t that stealing?” he asked the person who should know, the Head of the DMLE.

“I don’t agree with this at all, either. How about I have Kingsley put Auror grade protections on your trunk? If you know the shrinking charm, you could even keep your Firebolt in there. I’m sure everything is safe for now. It’ll be the last few days before the second task that we’ll have to worry about.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate the help. It’s just literally everything I own is in my trunk, and a couple of the things in there are from my parents. It’s all I have of them and it would break my heart if they were to be damaged.”

The two Aurors picked up on the undertone to the boy’s comments, that he had no more belongings at home, or he didn’t trust his Muggle relatives to keep them safe. Amelia and Kingsley had the awful suspicion that the former reason was the truth, though chances were those Muggle relatives weren’t too respectful of Harry’s belongings either. Swallowing down a sob that appeared out of nowhere, Amelia promised, “We’ll keep your things safe. Tell you what, how about the week before the second task, I have Bronty, my elf, hide your trunk somewhere safe here in the Castle. We’ll create a magical facsimile of your trunk and just put in what you need for school. And you can call for Bronty at any time if you need something brought to you.”

“I would really like that,” Harry replied softly. “Would you tell Bronty thank you for all his work with that?”

“Of course, Harry. He’s happy to help. Bronty likes getting into a bit of intrigue when he gets the chance, so you might find him thanking you back when you see him next.” There were chuckles all round at that comment.

“All right. On to serious things. We have a little under three months to get you ready for the second task, young man. We are pretty sure it’ll be in the Black Lake, so we need to figure out what spells you’ll need to learn, and any specialty equipment we’ll have to order, as well as find some training time. I was thinking of setting up a wizarding tent behind the Shrieking Shack, with privacy wards and expansion charms, so we can have a secure place to meet and train for a couple of hours on Hogsmeade days. What about over the break? Are you staying?” asked Amelia.

Harry shrugged. “Nowhere else to go, so yeah, I guess.”

“I would think, as a Champion, that you’d be required to attend the Yule Ball, at least.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide at Amelia’s words. “A Ball? With dancing and stuff? I don’t know how to do any of that. And I wouldn’t want to go anyway? Can I get out of it?”

“Hmm, there’s nothing in the contract that requires your presence, though I’d be surprised if they’d let you skive off if you’re in the Castle.”

“Explains why Mrs Weasley said we needed formal robes,” Harry replied a little sullenly.

“Technically speaking, all you would need to do at a formal ball is show up with a dance partner, who could be male or female as we magicals don’t care, dance the opening waltz, then sit through a lovely dinner from the house-elves, who will appreciate you appreciating their work. After that, nobody can really say anything if you decide to call it a night after that.”

A contemplative look appeared on the teen’s face. “I’ll definitely talk to Neville and we’ll figure something out. But I like your idea of cutting the evening short.”

“Alright, next Hogwarts weekend is in two weeks. How about we meet in the tent at one thirty? Bring Neville and any other friends you think might be able to help with this task. We’ll try to make a solid plan for training lessons and so on from there. In the meantime, let’s all start thinking of ideas to rescue something or someone from the lake. Any ideas?”

Kingsley put up a hand. “Minor detail perhaps, but Harry, do you actually know how to swim?”

Amelia wanted to hang her head for missing that key point, as she waited for Harry’s answer.

“We had some lessons at primary school, but I was more focussed on trying to get away from my cousin, who was doing his best to drown me. I get by, I suppose. The teacher passed me, but that might have just been because we ran out of scheduled lessons.”

“Boss, if we can sneak Harry out over Yule break, there’s a Muggle exercise centre near me that has a pool. We could get some practice there.“

Shyly, Harry volunteered, “I have my dad’s invisibility cloak, so that should help. And I know Neville will cover for me when we sneak out.”

Nodding at the wisdom of that plan, Amelia responded, “Let’s finalise our plans in two weeks. I wish we could whisk you away from all of the craziness, Harry. But at least you know we’re on your side.”

“Thank you,” Harry replied in a grateful tone, revelling in that thought, as they parted ways and the unwilling Champion went to seek out his best friend to fill him in on the events of the afternoon.

≈◆≈◆≈

Several days later, when the students were packing up after Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall asked Harry to stay behind and informed him that he was obligated to attend the Yule Ball, and bring a partner to dance the opening waltz. Being forewarned of the event, he took the news with resignation and beat a hasty retreat, to the surprise of his Head of House, who’d expected an argument. Leaving the classroom, Neville was immediately right at his shoulder, and asked, “It was about the Ball, huh?” Harry nodded. “So, have you figured out the dance partner thing yet?” His best friend just shook his head; he still had no clue what to do about the dance.

They were headed to the library to look up references for their Astronomy essay, when the two boys came across a student a year or so younger than they were. Wearing robes that identified her as a Ravenclaw, what was most noticeable was that she was walking the chilly flagstone floors barefooted.

“Luna,” Neville exclaimed. “Where’s your shoes and socks? You’ll get frostbite if you’re not careful.”

The ethereal blonde girl replied airily, “The Nargles have stolen them again. I’m sure they’ll be returned when the Nargles don’t need them any more.” Despite her nonchalant manner, something about the situation set Harry’s teeth on edge. A feeling that was soon confirmed by Neville’s next words.

“Your housemates stole them again, didn’t they? Luna, please go talk to Professor Flitwick. He’s not one to tolerate bullies if he knows what they’re up to.”

Harry couldn’t help but chime in. “If the professor can’t help, Neville and I will get them back for you. I’ve been bullied before and nobody deserves that.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer, Harry Potter,” Luna replied, “But you have enough bullies of your own to deal with, without taking on mine.”

Harry was taken aback. This girl, who theoretically knew him not at all, was more perceptive than probably ninety-nine percent of the Hogwarts students, about what he was going through, including two friends who’d pretty much disappeared off his radar screen this year. Rather impulsively, given he wasn’t much for being touched, Harry offered Luna a hug and insisted, along with Neville, that they would accompany her to talk with Professor Flitwick. Needless to say, the diminutive professor, who must surely have been bullied in school based on his stature alone, was not impressed with his Ravenclaws. By the end of the night, all Luna’s missing belongings had returned and about a quarter of the House was facing detention. And Harry Potter had gained a new friend who had pledged to herself to stay by his side, no matter what may come.

“So how do you know Luna?” Harry asked Neville as they returned to Gryffindor Tower shortly before curfew.

“Her mum and mine were cousins, and even after Mum and Dad were attacked, Aunt Pandora would take Luna and I out for the day, and explore all sorts of amazing places and things. She died in an experimental spell development accident when I was ten. Poor Luna saw it happen and she’s been just a bit more…out there, ever since.”

Harry’s heart went out to the girl who’d suffered in much the same way as he and Neville had. “Well, now she’s got two friends and we’ll make sure to take care of her, just as if she was our little sister!” Neville smiled back at his friend, so glad that he’d stepped up to support Harry when Hermione and Ron couldn’t seem to get their heads sorted this year. He looked forward to Luna becoming part of their friendship as well. For all her airy persona, the Ravenclaw was a wickedly clever girl, with a brilliant sense of humour, something Harry could do with, to survive the Tournament.

≈◆≈◆≈

A fortnight later, Harry, Neville and Luna, the ‘new golden trio’ were riding the carriages down to Hogsmeade for the day. Harry suddenly recalled where he’d seen Luna before, on the first day back at school where she’d seemed to be petting some animal he couldn’t see. He and Neville were soon fully educated on thestrals and who could and couldn’t see them. For all that they loved Hagrid as a Care of Magical Creatures class, he could have taken a lesson or two from the third year Ravenclaw, on how to properly educate his students on the various magical creatures. A quick pat, guided by Luna’s hands, on their arrival in Hogsmeade, let them feel the leathery texture of their skin, even as it garnered them a few odd looks from the other students.

Over the course of a couple of hours, the three friends managed to complete their Christmas shopping, separating as needed to buy each other gifts. Finally giving into the cold, they snagged a relatively quiet corner booth in the Three Broomsticks earlier than most, ordering warm drinks and lunch, so they could meet Madam Bones at one thirty as scheduled. Though, not knowing any strong privacy spells, they avoided discussing that over their meal. Which left the delightful topic of the Yule Ball.

“Have you decided what to do about the Ball, Harry?” Neville asked, as they’d not discussed the topic for several days.

“I dunno. It’s crazy. These people all act like they hate me, until they want a date for the Ball. They’re driving me around the bend? And none of them would be happy with our plan to dance once or twice, eat dinner, then take off and leave everyone else to it.”

Luna commented, “I think that’s a perfectly sensible idea, Harry. You have fewer Wrackspurts since you made that plan.”

Neville nudged his friend, eyeing Luna significantly. Here was someone on board with their ideas for managing the issue of the Ball.

Finally getting a clue, Harry showed none of the finesse he demonstrated when catching a Snitch. “Oh, err, Luna. Would you like to go to the Ball with me? If you don’t mind us leaving early, that is.”

“That would be lovely, Harry. I’m assuming your robes are green to match your eyes? I’ll have Daddy send my peach-coloured robes to me. They’ll look lovely paired against yours.”

As he’d come to learn over the past few weeks, there was no explaining how and why Luna just knew certain things. So he and Neville simply accepted the fact; some things weren’t worth fighting.

“Sounds lovely,” Harry replied. “Now we just have to find someone for Neville to go with.” He chuckled a little at the look of terror on his friend’s face at the thought of Harry and Luna colluding on that topic.

Luna, as ever, had a solution. “Have you spoken much to Sue Li before? She’s a fourth year like you two, but in my House. She’s really very shy, but she’s surprisingly free of Wrackspurts so I think she might come out of her shell some day. She loves Herbology like you do, so I thought you two might enjoy having that to talk about.”

Neither Harry or Neville could easily place the girl, but then they only shared History of Magic with the Ravenclaws and Binns hardly encouraged cross-House projects. But Neville was a very kind lad and braver than most people thought, so he gathered his courage and responded, “Would you please ask if she’s interested in coming with me, and explain we don’t intend to stay long unless we find it a lot more fun than we think it will be? I will ask her personally as well, but I don’t want to put her on the spot in public.” Rather shy himself, the last thing Neville wished to do was make someone else feel uncomfortable.

“I would be happy to do that for you,” Luna replied. “And we should plan to visit the kitchens after we’re done at the Ball to thank the house-elves for all their work.”

“Yeah, that’s what we also planned to do. Hang out with Dobby after we’re done. He’s loads of fun and we’ll get extra treats as well, if we want.”

The trio agreed that would be a fun way to finish off the evening, Luna and Neville having also met the vivacious elf at different times. Looking at his watch, Harry said, “Time for us to pay our bill and head out to our next appointment.” He kept his phrasing fairly innocuous, as the pub had become more crowded and he’d spotted Hermione and Ron heading their way. Twice in the last two weeks, they’d tried to inveigle their way back into Harry’s life, but still without uttering a single word of apology. He had no desire to have a public confrontation with the pair. Neville shooed his two friends out the back door then went up to the bar to settle up what they owed for lunch. He’d catch up with them in just a minute or two.

≈◆≈◆≈

Kingsley Shacklebolt was casually leaning against the fence to the Shrieking Shack when the three teens arrived. He’d had the idea to put the disillusioned tent under a Fidelius charm so that they’d be able to meet undisturbed, and the tent could remain in place until the end of the year. Expanded greatly inside, they found Madam Bones seated in a comfortable leather armchair, amongst a cluster of sofas and chairs, next to several sets of tall library shelves filled with reference books, with a table perfect for group study set just behind. The rest of the space was split between an area covered in mats that would cushion any fall and a large above ground swimming pool. It was a perfect space for training for the second task.

After a round of brief introductions, they got down to work, fueled by tea and scones courtesy of Bronty. Amelia led the discussion with, “If you decide to go Muggle with this task, we’ve found one of our Muggleborn Aurors has a non-magical brother who’s a dive instructor. We can get him here via Portkey, even if he is a Muggle, and he’s keen to help where he can.”

“Oh, that could be a very good back up option,” Harry replied. Gesturing to his friends, he continued, “We did come up with an idea that we think might work. I’d need to learn a bunch of Charms and Transfiguration spells, but we think we can pull it off.”

“We’re all ears,” came the deep voice of Shack, as he’d asked the teens to call him. “I bet between the boss here and I, we can identify the spells you’ll need to learn.”

“It’s using my broom again. But if they don’t like it, too bad. We figure if we can map out the location of the Mer Village over the break, we can maybe tag that location to fly to?”

“That’s an easy charm to learn,” replied Amelia.

“Okay then,” Harry went on, “So I’m borrowing from some of my primary school science classes here and using gravity. I’ll have a pebble with a string tied around it in my pocket. I’ll fly out to the coordinates, and then hover my broom. Oh, we need to figure out how to make sure my broom stays there even when I jump off. The plan is to massively enlarge the pebble and the string to become more like a boulder with rope that I hold onto and let it drag me down to the village at the bottom of the lake.”

“You’ll need a Bubble Head charm or something similar so you can breathe,” Amelia interjected, as Luna added that to the list of spells Harry would need to learn.

Neville piped up, “We were also looking into Gillyweed. That would give Harry gills.”

“Not a bad idea either,” Amelia replied.

“After I get whatever I need to collect, then I was going to expand a small Muggle balloon, then fill it with air and tie it off with a rope and let it pull me to the surface. I’m going to need spells for that too. And making sure I go straight back to my broom. But that’s the rough outline.”

Luna added the extra spells needed to the list and passed it over to the two adults. Amelia and Kingsley perused the list, added notations for spells they already knew that would meet Harry’s demands, as well as a couple of other ideas to make things easier.

“It’s a good plan, Harry,” said Amelia. “My other suggestions are warming charms so you don’t freeze and a safe version of a cutting charm, in case the item is held with ropes. You don’t want to damage anything as you cut it loose.”

“Those are good ideas, Harry,” Neville added. His friend nodded, glad he finally had so many people on his side.

“One thing the dive instructor suggested, even if you use magic for everything else, was to wear what he calls a dry suit. Basically it’s a rubber type suit that covers your body and fits close around the neck so no water gets in. It even has boots to protect your feet. With some gloves, you keep dry and your body heat fills the air spaces and you stay nice and toasty.” Kingsley had needed half an hour with his coworker’s brother to make sure he had all the details right to pass on to Harry.

“And if you decide to use the suit, the DMLE is happy to cover the cost as a research project in concert with the Unspeakables. After all, there are times we have to go into dangerous places where it’s unsafe to use magic. You’d be helping us out quite a bit.” Amelia had had no difficulty talking Head Unspeakable Croaker into splitting the cost. He was as focussed on bringing every one of his people home from every mission as she was.

“Oh, I just thought of something that Toby said that might help out here,” Kingsley threw out. “Oh, Toby is the dive instructor,” he explained, having noticed quizzical looks all round.

“Divers use something called a dive belt. Basically, it’s a belt that has weights attached to it to help overcome the body’s natural tendency to float, which makes it hard to dive, if I understand it all correctly. But what if we could charm it to be super heavy for the dive portion and lighter than air to come back up?”

“That would definitely cut down on the number of things that could go wrong, as well as how much equipment to carry,” Harry commented in a tone that suggested his brain was going a mile a minute as he reconfigured their plans on the fly.

“A Featherlight charm coupled with Wingardium Leviosa might be all that Harry would need to get back to the surface. Add in a Charm to make the belt extra heavy in the beginning, and that covers all the issues. I like it!” Madam Bones exclaimed enthusiastically.

“It would also keep your wand hand free if you ran into any sort of trouble, Harry. And both incantations are simple. Hoc Gravibus to make the belt heavy, then Hoc Leve to make it lightweight. With the levitation spell as well, that gets you to the bottom of the lake and back with little chance of complication.”

“Your Wrackspurts are much less disturbed now that you have a solid plan, Harry.” The two adults shared a look of confusion at Luna’s sage pronouncement, leaving Harry and Neville quite bemused.

“The hover and locator spells aren’t too difficult either,” Amelia noted. “The biggest challenge will be the Bubble Head charm, purely because it takes quite a bit of skill and concentration to maintain it.” Clapping her hands, she then instructed, “Alright, let’s get to work. We’ll get those easy ones down and move on from there.” Which they proceeded to do for the next two hours, before the teens had to return to the Castle for dinner. It was a productive time. Harry managed to learn all the charms needed except for the locator and Bubble-Headed ones. But he let the two adults know he had access to the Shrieking Shack from the tunnel under the Whomping Willow, so they made plans to meet over the Christmas break to work on those spells as well as Harry’s swimming proficiency.

≈◆≈◆≈

The plans for the last couple of weeks of term and the Christmas break went just as Harry and his supporters hoped for. Professor Flitwick, having agreed that it would be a good project for Neville to visit the Mer village and explore their use of underwater plants, had worked out a tweak to the locator spell by crossing it with the methods used for Apparition. He’d been to the Mer village himself and logged the coordinates, which he then attached to the Charm that would allow Neville (or Harry for that matter) to fly to the exact spot on the lake directly over the village. That problem solved, it only left mastering the Bubble-Headed charm over the remaining two months to the second task, as well as teaching Harry how to maintain the stability of the multiple spells he would be using simultaneously during the challenge. That was plenty to be working on in truth, as well as getting used to moving around underwater with the dry suit and dive belt when their source delivered both to his Auror brother in mid-January.

It turned out, later in the school year, that Professor Flitwick’s training to ‘Neville’ wouldn’t go amiss. Harry, over the Easter break, flew his best friend out to the Mer village location and they dived back down together. Neville was thrilled to spend time with the Mer head gardener, where he learned that they used gillyweed as the key ingredient for wound healing pastes (usually related to skirmishes with the Grindylows), as they had no need of the transformative properties as humans did, but found the plant to be highly effective in healing. It would be a project he would continue to experiment with through his Mastery, and in the end, Neville would go on to revolutionise the treatment of curse scars resistant to all other forms of healing magic. This, of course, was much to Professor Snape’s utter shock, and Professors Sprout and Flitwick’s absolute glee.

≈◆≈◆≈

The plans Harry, Neville and Luna had hatched for the Yule Ball had gone just as smoothly as the training for the second task. Ravenclaw Sue Li, as it turned out, had wanted to befriend Neville for several years thanks to their mutual Herbology interests but had always been held back by her near pathological shyness, as well as the lack of opportunity thanks to the limited intermingling of their houses. Luna, ever mindful of the fact that both were shy and tended to avoid the opportunity for public embarrassment, engineered for them to meet up in Greenhouse One, on a Saturday morning, where they had the opportunity to bond whilst repotting juvenile fanged geraniums. Sue was not at all opposed to making the Ball a short night and was intrigued to be given the chance to visit the kitchens and meet some of the house-elves, as she was nearly as fascinated by magical creatures as she was with magical plants.

The night of the Ball, Harry, in his rich green dress robes and wearing a single pale peach coloured rose bud pinned to his lapel, met Luna at the entrance to Ravenclaw House, accompanied by Neville who was also collecting Sue, his own date. Luna, unsurprisingly, was dressed in a style all of her own, in a filmy dress that ranged through cream, peach and apricot tones. Of course, it went without saying that this was complemented by a butterbeer cork necklace charmed to a soft peach to match the small rose corsage Harry presented her with. Luna’s normal radish earrings had been replaced by dangling coral-coloured sparkling pebbles, which fit well with her colour palette for the night. As the two couples descended the Grand Staircase to gather with the other students in the Entrance Hall, Amelia and Kingsley, who’d finagled the security duties for the night (Amelia very much wanting to see her niece attend her first ball), gave them an appreciative nod and a surreptitious thumbs up of approval for how lovely they looked as a group. After all the stress of Harry being entered in the tournament and their training efforts, they hoped the teens would enjoy their night, no matter when they decided to depart the formal celebrations.

Professor McGonagall gathered the Champions and their dates to one side as Neville, Sue and the rest of the students filtered into the Great Hall. She barely masked her eye roll at Luna’s necklace, but there was little she could say about it. Hermione, Viktor Krum’s surprise date, attempted to strike up small talk (still not an apology, Harry noted), but soon subsided when she got no response from the youngest Champion and his date.

As they’d planned, Harry and Luna participated in the opening dance (Luna had wedged a few dance lessons into Harry’s busy schedule), before only ordering soup each at the head table, penned in as they were by the always self-important Percy Weasley and Fleur Delacour and her date. After enjoying a tasty leek and potato soup, the youngest pair at the table went for a casual wander, or so it seemed. In no time, they’d joined Neville and Sue at the small table they’d snagged towards the rear of the Hall, and proceeded to order their main course and dessert, so they could eat the rest of the meal with their friends.

Madam Bones stopped by first, pretending to be a stranger to protect the fact that they’d been colluding for a month now.

“Mr Potter, Miss Lovegood, congratulations on escaping the table of the self-involved blowhards,” she commented pithily.

“Thank you, Madam Bones. There were entirely too many Wrackspurts around that table. It’s much more peaceful down here with our friends,” Luna replied with her signature mysterious smile.

Unfortunately, at that moment, someone with a very poor sense of timing and decorum decided to interrupt.

“Hey Potter, if you have so much money to throw around, how come you didn’t get Mum to buy me some decent dress robes when she went shopping for this school year. It’s not like she didn’t have your key and couldn’t have gotten the money from your vault anyway.”

It was clear that someone had spiked the punch, quite heavily if Amelia was to guess, leaving her to deal with a drunken and belligerent Ronald Weasley, wearing dress robes more suited to the late nineteenth century. Fortunately, Kingsley, demonstrating his usual excellent situational awareness, was at her side moments later and escorted the antagonistic redhead out of the Hall and back to the Gryffindor common room, then instructed the Fat Lady to refuse Ron passage through the portrait hole until the following morning.

Down in the Great Hall, drama over and dessert done, the foursome danced several more times, switching partners once just for fun, and then made a quiet exit from the Ball, bound for the kitchens as planned. Professor McGonagall spotted them trying to make their escape and headed towards the main doors, aiming to cut the two couples off. Amelia, with excellent timing, managed to snag the Deputy Headmistress and distract her with a discussion of the staff patrol schedules at the conclusion of the night’s festivities. It went without saying that there would be numerous amorous couples who’d need to be rousted out of broom closets and various other hideyholes before everybody could settle in for the night. Overhead, perched on the carved stone sill of a clerestory window high up in the Great Hall, Hedwig observed her boy’s exit and his other protector’s very timely move. A soft hoot of approval, lost in the clamour of the students and musicians below, showed how much a certain snowy owl appreciated those who looked out for her boy.

Down in the kitchens, just a few minutes later, having four students offer their thanks for all the hard work that had gone into the food preparation and decorating the Great Hall sent the hundred or so house-elves into paroxysms of rapture. Doɓby, wearing his odd socks and several tea cosies on his head, along with a towel toga bearing a crest that clearly wasn’t Hogwarts’, was no less excited than his compatriots, though he also had an look of immense pride when glancing at Harry. Putting two and two together, Neville knew he’d be explaining some details about the Potter family and their history of welcoming house-elves as part of the family come tomorrow morning. There was no doubt in his mind that Dobby had tricked his way into becoming a Potter elf, no matter that he still claimed a desire to remain a free elf.

≈◆≈◆≈

By late January, Harry and his training team declared that they were satisfied with the plan for the second task and from their out, the now weekly sessions with Amelia and Kingsley were mostly about making all the spells feel comfortably familiar to Harry. In the spirit of solidarity, Neville, Luna and new friend to the group, Sue, were practicing alongside their friend, ensuring he was as relaxed about handling the task as possible. Hedwig, as was her right, supervised any training sessions that Kingsley and Amelia couldn’t attend, much to everyone’s bemusement. She was also kept busy passing letters back and forth between Hogwart and the Ministry.

Dear Amelia,

I just had a rather scary thought about the task? What if they put something living, like our familiars, in the lake for us to rescue? Could Hedwig even survive hours under water in February? And would my warming charms actually work on a non-human creature or animal?

I mean, a lot of people know about Dobby and how good a friend he is. Does anyone know…or care… what might happen to whatever or whoever they pick to be the treasure I have to save?

I don’t think the people in charge are thinking everything through properly. I mean, who makes hundreds of kids sit out in the freezing cold for an hour or more, in February? Most of the younger students don’t even know how to cast a warming charm? Are there going to be enough healers to handle masses of people suffering from hypothermia and frostbite?

Can we please ask the professors to make sure all the students know how to cast these charms before the second task? Also, I bet there are kids from poorer families who might not have been able to afford good quality winter gear. I know the Dursleys have never cared about that with me. It just feels like someone should have planned for stuff like this.

I know you and Shack have done so much for me already and I hate to ask for something more. But it’s bad enough I got dragged into this thing against my wishes. I would hate to see other innocent kids get hurt as well.

Harry

Amelia passed the letter over to Kingsley to read as she opened the stasis box in her bottom drawer to grab a few pieces of crispy bacon to thank Hedwig for the prompt delivery of her boy’s letter. The Ministry house-elves had taken to keeping it stocked for the snowy owl, when it became very apparent that all enchantments to keep owls out of the departments failed miserably with this very smart girl.

“He’s not wrong, you know,” Kingsley commented after reaching the end of the letter. “Idiot organisers who think dragons are a good idea are liable to do anything for the next task. Anyway, can you manage to get a heads up to somebody so we can at least protect the children we know about?”

“I can only try,” Amelia responded, her frustration visible to anyone who saw her face. “I’d let Filch string up these halfwits by their toenails if I thought it would knock any sense into them.”

Unable to resist a moment of levity at the mental image his boss had just gifted him with, “I don’t know if I would find it funny or just terrifying to see whether the rumours were true as to which prominent wizards go with the traditional lack of underwear under their robes.”

“Hmm, I think what might be scarier still is to find out if the rumour was true about little Fudge having his very own lime green bowler.”

Kingsley nearly fell out of his chair laughing, having not heard those particular rumours before. “Merlin, you’re evil, boss, telling me that without any warning.” Amelia just smirked in response, having enjoyed Shack’s reaction immensely.

They were sobering moments later though, because Harry had made some very valid points, and now they had to figure out how to get the idiots in charge to make some much smarter decisions about the second task.

≈◆≈◆≈

The group met up the Saturday before the task, as it was another Hogsmeade weekend, mostly to reassure themselves that Harry was as prepared as could possibly be. Professor Flitwick had sneaked out to watch the final rehearsal, so to speak, and had offered to charm the pool to simulate the flying distances and diving depths, along with matching the Black Lake temperature and visibility, so Harry could go through the full task as accurately as they could possibly make it. Amelia, who was finding she excelled at being sneaky, had talked Croaker, the Head Unspeakable, into contracting Filius for an officially unnamed project (informally known as Let’s Keep Harry Alive), thus circumventing anyone’s complaints about him receiving help from a Hogwarts professor. Given the professors were not limited in taking side contracts, as long as they did not interfere with teaching hours, he just put on his ‘Unspeakables contract hat’ when he was needed in that capacity.

The dress rehearsal went very well, and there were only a few minor tweaks to the plan once it was done. The rest of the afternoon was spent ensuring Harry felt comfortable with the advanced warming charms he might need, along with basic first aid healing spells that could be used underwater.

Kingsley, as they were all saying their goodbyes until after the task, slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him in for a sideways hug. “I think you’ve got this, Harry. Don’t let anything rattle you and you’ll do fine. I might even be able to slip in a few crates of butterbeer for the party you Gryffs will throw after. Just don’t tell Minnie or the boss. They’d both have my guts for garters.”

“Thanks, Shack. And I promise, mum’s the word,” Harry replied, returning the hug.

Harry and his friends started to walk back up to the Castle then, with Flitwick following under a disillusionment charm to maintain plausible deniability. As they waved the teens off, Amelia looked at her younger counterpart. “You’re getting pretty attached to that young man. You know Dumbledore’s going to disapprove, right?”

A serious look replaced Kingsley’s usually quite relaxed mien. “If I have my way, I’m going to foster or adopt that kid. He’s been through so much…too much. And it’s time he had a family on his side.”

“Have you actually mentioned that to your better half, Gareth? It’s a bit dodgy to show up with fourteen-year-old and announce to your partner, ‘It’s a boy!’” Amelia could see how determined her Auror was in this quest.

“Yeah, he’s one hundred percent on board; he’s always wanted to be a dad. Me too, for that matter.”

Amelia laid a hand on Kingsley’s arm and promised to do everything she could to make that happen, and she was possibly the most determined witch on the face of the planet. Which meant Kingsley Apparated back home to his partner with the biggest goofy grin on his face, much to Amelia’s bemusement.

≈◆≈◆≈

It was lunchtime on the day before the second task when Hedwig, appearing out of the blue, soared into the Great Hall, landed by Harry’s plate and extended a claw bearing a letter, then nicked all the bacon out of her boy’s BLT sandwich as he broke the seal. Shaking his head at his familiar for her impudence, he was even more amused when two new plates appeared before him. One was loaded with more BLT sandwiches, while Hedwig snagged the other bearing crispy bacon and a handful of her extra-favourite chipolatas. Silently casting the privacy spell that Shack had taught him, Harry unfolded the letter he’d just received.

Dear Harry,

First off, Croaker was most insistent that I ask if you would see if Hedwig would like to become a mum, because he was very impressed with her. We’d just found out some news about tomorrow when she showed up without warning, seemingly knowing she would be needed.

Croaker says to tell you he has a very handsome and clever snowy owl of his own who would very much like to meet Miss Hedwig, because he thinks their owlets would be beyond gorgeous and smart. And yes, I’m wondering how the Director of the DMLE somehow got a side job running an owl dating service!

Nevermind, you and Croaker can talk it through with Celeus and Hedwig over the summer and sort it out between the four of you. Though Miss Hedwig, make sure he promises to treat you right or I’ll be after him. I’m sure there’s a statute I can use to lock up a disrespectful owl somewhere on the books.

Alright, back to my regular day job. The reason I was meeting with Croaker was because he had some intelligence about what, or more exactly, who would be the hostages taken for tomorrow’s task. How he heard this, I didn’t want to ask. What I don’t know can’t be revealed under Veritaserum.

It’s going be someone you care about, a close friend or someone you’re dating, or a family member. He didn’t hear who’d they’d picked, but I’d suggest that you get Neville, Luna and Dobby to hide out with Hedwig somewhere in the Castle where they can’t be found. It sounds like they’re going to grab the hostages this evening or overnight, so they need to stay out of the dorms for sure. Have Dobby hide your important items as well, just in case.

I know this may sound callous, to have you hide the things and people that matter most to you, when they’ll likely just target someone else, but remember that is on them and not on you.

Try not to stress too much, Harry. Remember Shack and I will be there tomorrow, and we’ll be ready to intervene however we can, if things start to go off the rails.

Stay strong!

Amelia

PS Croaker just sent me a memo. He’d like to send his owl to Hogwarts over the Easter break to meet you and Hedwig. Please put him out of my misery and tell him yes or no as soon as you can.

Merlin, how did it come to this?

Harry couldn’t help himself, he cracked up laughing at the matchmaking parts of the letter. Good thing he’d remembered to set up the privacy charm, he thought, as Hedwig gave him her most quizzical look. He just slid the letter over for her to read, something he had no clue as to how she’d managed to learn, then sniggered at the contemplative look that settled on her face. It seemed there was a decent chance of owlets in their future.

Finally containing himself, he dropped the privacy spell and passed the letter in turn to Neville who sat beside him, then Sue and Luna seated across the table.

Speaking very softly, he said, “Let’s finish up as quick as we can and go to the kitchens. We can speak to Dobby there; he’s assured me that the Hogwarts elves stay out of everything but taking care of the Castle residents and Hogwarts itself. It’ll be a safe place to talk. Maybe even hide out.” His friends nodded in agreement and polished off the rest of their lunches.

Five minutes later, they were heading down the stairs towards the kitchens and a major planning session. Dobby, as always, was thrilled to see his Harry Potter, sir, in the house-elves domain, and the other Hogwarts elves appeared to be barely restraining the urge to stuff them all with more food and any treats they might think of. Eventually, it all settled down, and the plotting began. Despite it being a Thursday, and them being expected in classes, this was more critical. Dobby sat with them and immediately had the best idea they’d heard of.

“Dobby is needing to show you the Come and Go room. It would be a very safe place to hide out as Professor Dumbles doesn’t know where it is.”

“Sounds perfect, Dobby. Can you take us there?” Harry was thrilled to have somewhere to keep his friends sage.

“Dobby will meet you on the seventh floor by the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy trying to teach the trolls to dance. But not just yet.” Without further word, the excitable creature disappeared. He returned less than a minute later, with Harry’s trunk and his broom. At Dobby’s urging, he pulled out the map and his cloak, then looked at his elf friend for his next instructions.

“You should be keeping your cloak and map with you at all times, Harry Potter sir. These are dangerous times and you may never know when they may save your life.” Having made his point, Dobby then pointed his finger at Harry’s satchel. Opening the bag, which now felt loads lighter, Harry found a new pocket that held the map and cloak, but then reached in to grab a parchment and a quill, to make note of their ideas, to find that those items now automatically flew into his hand.

“Your bag can now carry almost anything and will never get any heavier, Harry Potter sir.”

“That is wicked,” Neville exclaimed. “Would you mind fixing my school bag too?” A snap of elfish fingers fulfilled that request, not only expanding each of the bags, but renewing them to look like when they had been first purchased. Harry and his friends sang Dobby’s praises, and Harry stowed his shrunken Firebolt and photo album in his satchel as well. For camouflage Dobby popped Harry’s trunk back to the dorms. When the map showed their route to be clear, as the rest of the school went to afternoon classes, the four friends made their cautious way up to the seventh floor.

Meeting Dobby by the tapestry, the elf explained how the room worked, also showing them the Room of Hidden Things, before setting up a space he felt would serve them best to hide out from the professors, until right before the second task was due to begin. The door reappeared and opened to reveal a common room set up, with two doors on the far wall. There were a couple of couches by the fireplace, a table that would easily do double duty for studying or dining, along with a small kitchenette in one corner, enough to make drinks or grab a snack if the late night munchies hit. The doors in the rear revealed two small dorm rooms, with two beds and an attached bathroom apiece, so the boys and girls would have separate quarters overnight.

As Harry thanked Dobby profusely for the perfect set up, and was then promised that a hearty dinner would be delivered later, Neville commented, “I’d love to live here all the time. A quiet and comfortable place to study…” he startled as a long bookshelf filled with books covering every subject appeared on the wall by the main door. “Err, yeah, now an even better place to study, and we don’t have to share a bathroom with the very stinky Seamus Finnegan, and best of all, no Ron snoring all night!”

The rest of the friends, Dobby included, laughed uproariously at Neville’s comments, though they wouldn’t know for another day or two that when Dobby popped out moments later, promising to return with dinner, he went to the Gryffindor fourth year boys’ dorm and applied permanent snore muffling charms on a certain redhead’s bed curtains, while maximising the exhaust charms in the bathroom attached. It was enough to earn Dobby hero status amongst the five boys, particularly when those charms moved with them to their new dorms in subsequent years.

≈◆≈◆≈

Harry’s concerns for the safety of all the people and things he cared about finally settled down half an hour later, when Hedwig flew in through a section of the window that overlooked Black Lake. The room immediately provided a perch, with food and water bowls attached, and Dobby popped in with an array of Hedwig’s favourite foods and filled the water bowl.

“Been checking things out by the lake, girl?” Harry asked his owl, giving her a thorough scratch in her favourite spots. They’d all watched as Ministry workers had worked to assemble the viewing stands and judging area, which would have been a dead giveaway to the Champions if they hadn’t figured out the clue already. Hedwig gave him an affirmative look that clearly showed her disdain for idiot wizards wanting to send her boy into a freezing cold lake in winter. All Harry could do was chuckle at her look and agree, saying, “Tell me about it, my friend. Idiots, the lot of them.”

With that settled, Hedwig stuck her head under her wing and took a well-deserved nap. Meanwhile the four friends moved to the study table, having decided to knock out as much homework as they could, while they had all those wonderful books and the peace and quiet to work in.

Dobby popped in around six o’clock, a floating series of trays surrounding him. Soon, they were all enjoying roast beef, with plenty of roasted and steamed veggies, gravy, and of course Yorkshire puddings. It went without saying that there was treacle tart for dessert, along with three other favourites so each teen got spoiled. Harry asked Dobby, who’d joined them for dinner at their insistence (a mixed berry tart appeared on the table as well), just how crazy it was down in the rest of the Castle, now that they’d missed afternoon classes and two meals.

“Oh, the professors are going quite crazy, Harry Potter sir. Professor Flitty is just looking worried that Missies Luna and Sue are missing. Professor Dumbles has turned an odd purple colour and Professor Kitty is very angry with him for wanting to put students under the lake. Oh, and she is hoping that Mister Nevvie and Master Harry Potter sir are safe. Dobby thinks she is a little worried that you have all run away and Master Harry Potter sir might lose his magic.”

“If I write her a note and tell her we’re safe and that I will be at the task tomorrow, can you get it to her without being seen?” Dobby nodded emphatically and Harry grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, scrawling a short note in his signature chicken scratch. Minutes later, the letter slipped under the edge of McGonagall’s plate in the Great Hall. Recognising the handwriting, she slipped it into her pocket, unnoticed by her colleagues, and only opened it once she was safely back in her rooms. She quickly sent a Patronus message to Filius, letting him know the girls were safe and sound, then opened a cabinet by the fireplace, pulled out a bottle of her favourite Muggle Scottish whiskey, and poured a generous restorative. She raised it in silent toast, “Harry Potter, you may yet be the death of me, but well done for taking good care of your friends. Twenty points to Gryffindor for your courage and determination.”

≈◆≈◆≈

After a relaxing evening spent playing Muggle board games that Dobby had found in the Room of Hidden Things, and laughing and joking as they all tried to figure out the rules, the four teens had gotten to bed at a decent hour. Dobby had popped up by Harry’s bedside as he settled in, offering a half draught of Dreamless Sleep potion to his friend and promising to wake them all in time for breakfast and to get ready for the task. Neville, who’d been worried for his friend and not sleeping well either, snagged the other half-draught, leading Dobby to swipe another phial of the potion from the Infirmary and splitting it between the two girls.

The following day dawned sunny and bright, though still chillingly cold, being February in the Scottish Highlands. Harry couldn’t handle a huge breakfast, not given he’d be in the water soon, but he enjoyed his omelette and toast, while his friends (and Hedwig) got stuck into the bacon and eggs, enjoying a full English breakfast.

Neville was soon kitted out with Harry’s cloak and Firebolt again, and loaded with long acting warming charms by Dobby, and was soon one of the first to snag a seat in the stands by the lake. Conveniently, Dobby had added a very strong notice-me-not charm to Neville’s seat, so nobody tried to sit in his invisible lap. Dobby then Glamoured Luna and Sue to look completely unlike themselves and they made their way out of the Castle shortly after Neville did, perfectly comfortable with the elven warming charms as well. The trio of friends were soon ensconced in their seats and people watching as the rest of the stands began to fill.

Harry, now on his own, donned the drysuit and a set of robes over the top, then did one last minute check of his dive belt, a coil of rope and the backup gillyweed to be certain he was ready. Applying the heating charms Amelia and Shack had taught him, he then added the Glamour they’d created together and was soon at the lake’s edge with nobody being the wiser. A wave of his wand cancelled the illusion and he joined the other Champions, waiting for the task to begin. That was when he got to see Hedwig join Luna to watch over her boy, and see that odd shade of purple Dobby had described on Dumbledore’s face the evening before. He was happy to spot both of his mentors in the crowd, and even received a small smile and a nod of approbation from his Head of House, which warmed him further in an entirely different way.

Madam Bones and Kingsley were seated in the part of the stands holding most of the Ministry officials, though they’d staked out seats that would give them easy access to the lake edge if needed. Looking at her Senior Auror, Amelia commented, “He looks ready. Nice and calm, aware of everyone around him.”

Kingsley just nodded, the anxiety ramping up inside him for the boy he’d come to know and care greatly for over the past months. Being a guardian to Susan, her niece, Amelia recognised the look. “Still wanting to apply for Harry’s guardianship?”

“Yeah, boss. He’s brave, and incredibly strong, but he deserves to have someone on his side that is just there for him. Think I’m crazy? Gareth and I have never raised a kid.”

Patting her colleague and friend on the arm, she reassured him, “I felt the same way when I got Susan. At least yours is out of nappies.”

Kingley nearly choked at his boss’s teasing comment, then replied wryly, “Mine just comes with dark lords after him, and idiotic school and Ministry officials who forget he’s just fourteen and not some mystical icon.”

“Hmm, true,” Amelia considered, “You win on the most complicated kid to adopt.” They both chuckled, then turned their attention to Ludo Bagman, who was trying to get this whole farce started.

Everything went exactly to plan, from the moment Harry doffed his robe, revealing the dry suit, and then summoning his Firebolt from Neville, who then also removed the cloak. The direction finding and hover charms worked perfectly, as did the charms to make the dive belt heavier to descend to the bottom of the lake. Harry wasn’t thrilled to see Ron tied to the post in the Mer village, though he supposed that with Dumbledore in charge he should have expected no less. Huffing in annoyance inside his charmed Bubble Head, he cast the same spell on his fellow Gryffindor, cut him free from the post, looped the rope under the boy’s arms and fastened it securely to his dive belt, before reversing the spell on the belt and overpowering the levitation charm to start his ascent. It wasn’t very long before he broke the surface, right by his broom as planned, hauling on the now spluttering former friend to lay him across the front of the broom. Dispelling both Bubble Head charms and amping up the warming charms on them both, Harry soon landed back at the edge of the lake, quickly handing Ron over to Madam Pomfrey’s care, still not saying a word to his former friend, before striding off to the medical tent himself for the mandatory check over. Neville, Luna and Sue raced out of the stands, the former carrying a rucksack with a change of warm clothes for their friend, the three of them slipping into the tent before Madam Pomfrey even noticed they were there. All told, it had taken Harry Potter fourteen minutes to complete the task from start to finish, amazing both the spectators and judges alike. Amelia and Kingsley just shared satisfied grins. Harry had made it through safe and sound, as they made their own way to the medical tent to check on the Boy Who Lived.

Still seated in her very comfortable armchair, Amelia realised she was done playing outsider-looking-in. She had seen those three opportunities she’d been given and now would need to make her choice. It would not be an easy decision by any means. Should she intervene sooner and hope she’d make enough changes to both give Harry more of a good life and hopefully prevent Voldemort’s return, or wait until one of the later two scenarios, where perhaps chance and fate would have less opportunity to exert their fickle manipulations?

This would take some time and some careful consideration. Magically, her teacup refilled itself and the empty plate that had held her scone was replaced by one bearing toasted, buttered crumpets. Gratefully, knowing she was being granted the time she needed to make her choice, she took a bite of her crumpet, suddenly and surprisingly hungry again. It took two more cups of her favourite tea before a look of determination appeared on her face; it seemed the decision had been made. No sooner had that happened and she found herself swirled away once again as she disappeared into the blackness, headed back to Annwn.

≈◆≈◆≈

Epilogue

Mari had been patiently waiting as Amelia watched all three scenarios, then tried to determine in which situation her intervention was most effective. And by effective, in Amelia’s mind (with Mari tuning in as well), that didn’t mean which option would bring about the quickest ending to Voldemort. No, to her, knowing that there were so many forces at work manipulating young Harry and forcing him into the role of the prophesied child, how could she help him best to not only survive the experience, but come to thrive as well?

The sadly pragmatic thing, in this situation, wasn’t what would cause the least amount of death and destruction. Voldemort was involved, those two things were inevitable. It was more important that, if fated to do so, Harry would have the training and support, not necessarily as a fighter, but as a teen learning to be a wizard, so that he’d also come out the other side…and then not be eaten alive by the Ministry, the press and the Wizarding world at large.

Oh, don’t get her wrong, Amelia deeply wanted to just cast her choice, like a roll of the dice, so she could get back to Susan and keep her safe. But Susan wasn’t the only child that mattered here, and when she’d become an Auror, many years before, she’d made an oath to protect those most vulnerable in their world. Despite the hardships and losses both she and Susan had endured, between what she knew from the newspaper and talk around the Ministry, as well as her few encounters with the teen, Harry had come through much, much worse circumstances.

Yet still, which scenario to choose? Both in death and thanks to death, she’d only been able to see the beginnings of what changes her intervention could make. She’d been shown no hard and fast outcomes, no certainties. Just hints of what the future might bring in each of the choices she could make.

Marwolaeth watched each of these thoughts trace their way across Amelia’s visage. She was glad she’d picked this woman to act in her stead, to protect Harry and give him a real chance at life. This woman would never use the boy as a figurehead or an icon, and she’d never sacrifice him on the altar of the ‘greater good’, as too many others would.

A look of determination settled onto Amelia’s face, her body stiffening as if in readiness to go to war for the boy first and her world second. Death marvelled once again at this magnificent witch she’d chosen, the warrior who’d never forget the little people or sacrifice them uncaringly for the bigger picture. It was time then to ask.

“So, Amelia Bones, Auror, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Aunt to Susan and Death’s Warrior, which one will you choose?”

Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders as though heading into immediate battle, Amelia answered in a strong, clear voice filled with determination.

“I choose…”

Fin

≈◆≈◆≈

Author’s Note

Don’t you just hate me? Gives an evil grin. In truth, I never meant to have Amelia make a decision on screen, so to speak. In fact, I wrote the epilogue before I even attempted to flesh out the scenarios. To my mind, there are major pros and cons to each option, but I’ll leave it to your imagination as to just how each scenario would have unfolded from there. Happy musing.

 

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