Fanfic: The Green in the Grey Ch 3, Harry PotterA/N
Onwards with chapter 3 and finally into the main plot.
Chapter 3: The Goblet of Fire (June 1994)
Lord Voldemort looked up at the man in distaste, as he was spoon fed a concoction of his own genius, an elixir to maintain the homunculus the rat had helped him create. The mere sight of the rat disgusted the Dark Lord but for now, he was a means to an end. The moment he had a suitable body, Pettirgrew would be no more. He had only been sought out as an act of cowardice. Pettigrew held only loyalty to himself and Lord Voldemort had no place for men such as this.
He was aware that he could not fully blame the man for his current condition, but he had certainly played his part. Had it not been for his fickle nature, the Dark Lord would never have even been at the Potters almost thirteen years ago.
The years had not been kind to him in his wraith form but he had survived his isolation, through sheer will he had pulled through. Day in and day out he knew nothing but pain and suffering. He did however have a few periods of time in which he was granted a respite. These moments had only served to confuse him. At times he would see the world through the eyes of another, experience both the joy and pain of this person as he lived his life, unaware of the presence of the Dark Lord in his mind.
At first, the darkness and pain he saw was similar to what he himself was experiencing but much later the darkness had given way to brightness and a sense of hope. Through the eyes of the other he had witnessed a familiar man doting on his host, offering teachings in obscure magicks and simply filling the boy with love and laughter.
This caused the Dark Lord great pain and from then on, any time he had found himself within the mind of the infant, he fought as hard as possible to leave. Again, his confusion mounted once he had been found by Wormtail.
The man he had seen through these eyes had been none other than Sirius Black. Pettirgrew however insisted that Sirius Black had fled almost immediately after the war had finished and had not been seen since. The Potter boy in whom the prophecy referred to was still at home, not at all recovered from his encounter with Dark Lord and by all accounts, he was left as little more than a squib; the perfect target for his planned ritual.
That did however beg the question.
Who was the boy in whom he was seeing the world through?
The answer again came courtesy of the rat, but it did nothing to clear the haze of his memories from that fateful Halloween night. It was as blank as ever and he still remembered nothing from the moment he had crossed the wards into the property.
Harry Potter, the elder brother of the so called 'boy-who-lived'. But who was this older Potter? Was it him to whom he had shared a mind for short periods of time?
That was for another time to ponder. That was something that would have to wait until he acquired an adequate body of his own. For the one he occupied now was not suitable to practice the subtle mind arts. Yes, he could throw around the occasional curse, yet it would leave him exhausted for hours after.
That did not prevent him from cursing the rat from time to time however. He deserved to be punished for all he had done throughout his despicable existence, despite how useful he had miraculously proven himself most recently.
Apparently he had spent the last decade in the shadows, listening to the whispers of the people, learning as much information as possible so that he could relay it back to his master when he would return.
The Dark Lord knew that was a lie. Even without the use of legilimency, he knew it was a fabrication designed to earn him favour.
The man had hidden as all cowards do when the going gets tough. He had only returned because of the protection the Dark Lord could provide and every action he carried out he did with selfish intent. He would pay though, he would most definitely pay.
The primary concern of the Dark Lord was to ensure that he had a suitable body to continue cementing his legacy and for that he needed the rat.
He also needed Charlie Potter, well his blood at least.
His options were however limited on how he could obtain such a thing.
He had only the rat to rely on and perhaps Barty Jr, if the man could prove his loyalty. He was loath to approach the man his current condition though. He would not see those who should fall to their knees in his presence look down on him, to bear witness to his weakness.
He had no doubt that he would get the boy. He would use every bit of cunning in his arsenal to succeed.
He would have to include the older brother in his scheme of course. He was a loose end and an unknown one at that. He had met his demise in the home in which they were both present and he could not be certain how this had happened. The prophecy, he was sure, referred to the younger sibling, but it could only serve him well to kill them both.
With the information he had received from Bertha Jorkins, a plan began to formulate in his mind. The younger Potter would always be available to him when he chose, but the older had proven to be elusive. According to Wormtail, he had not been seen nor heard from since that night and only those close enough to the family seemingly knew of his existence.
This made no sense to the Dark Lord, but it was of no concern.
The boy would simply have to be brought back from wherever he was and he knew just the way to do it.
He would need help for this to work and he knew it was risky. The risk would however be worth it if all came together as he planned.
"Peter, go and fetch Barty," he commanded.
The man looked as though he wanted to question his master, but the glare that accompanied said command stopped him dead. He nodded in compliance, secretly pleased that he would soon have someone to share his burden with.
(BREAK)
October 31st 1994
Charlie Potter was sat amongst his peers at the Gryffindor table, something he never took for granted. Growing up, it was never a certainty that he would be able to attend Hogwarts. Although he had never been a sickly child, his magic had always been weak. It was only the innovative creation of the headmaster himself that had made his attendance here possible and for that he was grateful.
He had been gifted a belt that would absorb ambient magic around him. This belt would boost his own reserves, just enough that he could complete the practical portions of his classes. It was not a permanent solution, but he was working on it as much as possible.
His magic had finally stabled during his second year of schooling, but he was still considerably below average in his practical magic abilities.
He snorted at the moniker he had been given. 'The-Boy-Who lived'. He had survived, not lived as a normal wizard had and perhaps never would. He got stronger with age but it was not enough. He trained his magic to its limits and he grew stronger still, but even so, it was not enough. The belt was his saving grace, but again it would not be sufficient forever.
His hazel eyes travelled along the staff table and he found the ever-present concerned gaze of his mother. She would always have a smile for her but he knew she had never been truly happy since 'that night'. Yes, she got to visit his older brother on occasion with his father, but he knew she only wanted him home. Charlie would often feel guilty when he found himself brooding; his brother had ended up much worse after all. He had no memories of his sibling but there were pictures of him strewn around the house. He had asked time and time again to be allowed to visit but he had been denied time after time. His brother was simply too frail to be around his own unpredictable magic. It was as though Harry was a family secret. None of his peers knew of his existence and he had been told to keep it that way. It was none of their business according to his mum and dad.
No matter how bad things had been, Charlie couldn't help but think his life would have been brighter had he had an older brother around him, to share his experience of Hogwarts. Even though that in itself had been wrought with unwanted drama.
It had begun on his very first trip aboard the express here. Almost everyone clamoured to just get a glimpse of their 'hero'. That novelty quickly wore off though when it was learnt he was just a normal boy, less than that in fact.
His first year had been spent struggling to get even the most basic of spells right. Even with the aide of the belt, he achieved little. The year ended with the sudden disappearance of their Defense professor. He had apparently been killed in the forbidden third floor corridor. That could only have been unpleasant for the man.
His second year could only be described as even more catastrophic. Yes, his magic came on in leaps and bounds after it had settled, but living in fear of being petrified outweighed that victory considerably. It only came to an end when Dumbledore had personally intervened and killed the creature that had been let loose in the school. The identity of said creature however had never been released and even though the headmaster had managed to kill it, he had not been quick enough to save Ron's' little sister. The Weasley's had not been the same since.
After that year, his parents began acting very strangely towards him. They had always been overprotective but now they had become unbearable. Wherever he went he was supervised. They flittered between coddling him and encouraging him in practicing his magic. It only confused him; he just could not work out what it was they wanted from him.
His third year had been little more than a shambles also. A random sighting of Pettigrew had seen pictures of the man flooding the national publications leaving Charlie completely suffocated by his parents and Remus. This was the year that his mother and Godfather took their jobs at the school. Charlie had prayed that it would only be for that year and yet, his mother remained. His father continued in the aurors and Remus had left once his condition had been made public. Although he had been upset for the man, he had also breathed a huge sigh of relief that he had one less person on his case.
He had hoped for a peaceful one this year but the announcement of the Tri-wizard tournament had shattered that fantasy immediately. He wanted nothing more than to focus on his potions and arithmancy, his two favourite subjects, without the constant interruptions. His gut however told him that this year would be worse than the others. He couldn't put his finger on how or why; he just knew it would be so. He just had an awful feeling that his name was coming out of that goblet, despite the assurances of the headmaster.
He felt an elbow dig into his ribs sharply, courtesy of Hermione Granger. She had a tendency of disrupting his thought process when she knew he wasn't paying attention. It happened all to often in History and apparently now at meal times.
"What?" he grumbled as he rubbed his side.
"It's starting," she whispered, not even gracing him with a glance.
Charlie nodded and turned his attention to towards the headmaster, avoiding the concerned look his mother was aiming at him.
"Three champions," Dumbledore began dramatically. "Three champions will compete for the honour of their school. Three champions will compete for their own eternal glory".
A hushed silence had fallen upon the Great Hall and Dumbledore extinguished the candles with a casual wave of his hand.
"I do believe the goblet of fire is almost ready," the headmaster muttered, his voice magically carrying to all within the room.
It was only a moment later that the subdued blue flames of the artifact burst into life transforming into a bright orange and spewing out a piece of parchment. The headmaster snatched it from the air nimbly before clearing his throat.
"The champion for Durmstrang is, Viktor Krum".
Those in the room clapped enthusiastically for the Bulgarian quidditch star. He rose from his seat and exited the hall through the door gestured to by Dumbledore.
The occupants of the hall fell silent once more as they waited for the goblet to continue its task. It came to life as expected and ejected another piece of parchment that the headmaster caught.
"The Beauxbaton's champion is Fleur Delacour," he announced.
The applause was much lighter this time, but the silver-haired girl smiled at the support she received.
She too disappeared into the same door as Krum had, leaving the goblet to select her final competitor.
Silence reigned in the Great Hall as the students of Hogwarts waited for the selection of their very own champion. Most of the seventh years had submitted themselves for consideration, each believing they were the ones to bring the promised glory to their name.
The goblet provided the headmaster with its selection and he again swiped the parchment from the air before addressing his audience.
"The champion for Hogwarts, is Cedric Diggory," he informed them with a proud smile adorning his face.
The applause this time was more than the previous two had gotten combined. The chosen boy stood amidst the cheering and pats on the back from his classmates and made his way to follow the other champions.
Dumbledore held up his hand to garner the room's attention once more so that he could speak his final words of the evening.
"Now that our champions have been selected I hope that we can all offer our full support to all those selected. The Tri-wizard tournament is not for the faint of heart and the mettle of each will be tested to their very limits…."
He was cut off from continuing as the Goblet sputtered into life a final time and released another piece of parchment. This time the headmaster was not quick enough to snatch it from the air but instead had to retrieve it from the floor. He did so initially with a frown but the name written had his eyes widening in horror.
"What does it say Albus?" Karkoroff demanded irritably.
The old man swallowed deeply and shook his head, wishing that this were not happening.
"Harry James Potter," he managed to choke out.
Most were not only confused by the goblet choosing a fourth champion but also the name it had given. Less than five in the room were privy to who the boy was and their attention turned to the two who undoubtedly had that knowledge. A wide-eyed Lily Potter found herself as one of the two as did her younger son, Charlie. He wore a look of worry but mostly confusion.
"Why would Harry's name come out of the goblet?"
A lot of whispering broke out amongst the students and some of the staff alike but Dumbledore seemed to compose himself enough to dismiss every one from the hall.
Charlie left the room silently, knowing that his housemates would demand answers. The secret he had kept for so long was about to become public knowledge; he just didn't know what any of it meant.
Lily quickly approached the headmaster, only a look of concern marring her features. Her eldest boy was sick, that was all she knew. He certainly was not fit to take part in a magical tournament.
She noted the guilty look Dumbledore adorned as he became aware of her presence.
"I will fix this," he assured her, though he knew his assurances meant nothing now.
The boy would have to compete. The goblet had called upon him and he was now bound to. He just hoped that he could manage this without provoking the ire of the Blacks but he knew another conversation with Arcturus was on the horizon.
He sighed deeply as every member of staff including the foreign headmasters followed him into the antechamber. Both Crouch and Bagman looked nothing short of bewildered but all of this was now the least of his worries.
He needed to figure out who had put the name in the goblet in the first place.
"You had better send for your husband," he instructed wearily to the redhead keeping stride with him.
She nodded firmly and sent off a patronus.
"You had better have a good explanation for this Albus," Lily warned uncharacteristically.
Albus knew he would have to come clean to some degree. His days of hiding his past misdeeds were up. It was not as though he could obliviate the entirety of Hogwarts.
He gathered all of the authority he could muster as he entered the room that contained the three other champions and made a brief but firm speech.
"All further activity of the tournament is suspended until the situation is remedied, agreed?" he asked.
"No," Crouch answered before any other could. "The boy must compete, it is a binding magical contract".
"My son did not enter his name," Lily hissed venomously. "He has not been in the magical world since he was three".
Crouch shrugged indifferently.
"His name has been chosen by the goblet, he must compete," he insisted.
"Lily," Dumbledore warned as she once more opened her mouth to argue. "Then perhaps it can be suspended until Mr. Potter has been contacted and informed of his selection," he tried diplomatically.
"And allow Hogwarts to have two champions?" Karkaroff spat.
"I can assure you Igor, Mr. Potter is as much a Hogwarts student as he is a Durmstrang one".
"Would somebody care to explain this whole mess?" Bagman broke in with a nervous smile.
"Not until Mr. Potter has been spoken to. It is strictly private family business," Dumbledore retorted heatedly.
Most of the room flinched at his tone, not used to hearing the usually carefree man speak in such a way.
"I agree to giving you 48 hours only," Karkaroff offered.
"Are we all agreed?" Crouch questioned, his tone full of frustration.
Each of the headmasters and judges nodded or mumbled their agreement and left the room along with the three champions.
"When your husband arrives, it would be best that you come directly to my office," Dumbledore mumbled to Lily, just wondering how he could explain everything.
Lily nodded and headed towards the entrance hall to wait for James. Something was not right and Dumbledore knew something about it. They had visited Harry just before the start of term and his condition had yet to improve in any way.
So what had Dumbledore so nervous?
Whatever it was, she would get to the bottom of it.
(BREAK)
As expected his housemates had accosted Charlie the moment he had entered the common room. He was currently stood in the middle surrounded by his fellow lions as they bombarded him with questions, none of which he could hear because of the sheer volume.
A shrill whistle sounded and the room immediately fell silent as one of the seventh year prefects stepped forward.
"So Potter, care to explain who this Harry is? Don't try to deny it either, we all saw your reaction to his name coming out of the goblet".
Charlie sighed as he took in the looks of anticipation around the room. The only eyes he met that held any sympathy were those of Neville Longbottom.
"Harry is my older brother," he finally informed them.
"Then why isn't he at Hogwarts?" a voice called over the ensuing whispers.
"Because he is sick, more sick than I am," he added as he revealed his belt as a reminder.
Everyone in the school was aware of his own issues with magic. His housemates had looked out for him a lot over the years, to which he had been grateful. Particularly when the Slytherins decided that he was an easy target.
"So he's a squib?" another called.
The boy was immediately cuffed on the back of the head sharply by one of the Weasley twins.
Charlie shrugged.
"I don't know, I haven't seen him since I was a baby," he huffed irritably.
"So there are two boys who lived?"
The room fell into an awkward silence at that question. They all knew that Charlie hated that name and he was none to become very angry about.
"All I know is that my brother was there with me when we were attacked and he also survived. Other than that I know as much as any of you," he gritted out.
"I guess we will find out," Ron Weasley muttered. "He has to come here for the tournament".
Charlie said nothing in response but instead headed up to his dorm. He was done with trying to answer questions that he did not know the answer to. The only people who could answer anything were his parents.
He drew his curtains around his bed as he slumped into it.
It seemed as though he would have to speak to them as soon as possible. He too had many questions that needed answering.
(BREAK)
James Potter had arrived in the Entrance Hall to Hogwarts as quickly as humanly possibly after he had received a distressed patronus from his wife. He had been at home finishing his paperwork for the day so will still in his full auror garb. He barely crossed the threshold before he found his distraught wife in his arms mumbling incoherently.
"Calm down Lily," he soothed as rubbed small circles into her back. "Tell me what has happened".
Lily took a moment to steady herself and calm her breathing.
"Harry's name came out of the Goblet," she said weakly.
James frowned and shook his head.
"But that's not possible, he can't compete," James responded worriedly.
"I know James," Lily near whimpered. "Dumbledore wants to see us in his office," she explained.
James nodded and took her hand to lead the way.
He was not a happy man at all and he wanted answers.
How was it possible for someone completely ineligible to even be drawn from the Goblet? Surely an artifact as intricate as this could not make such a dire mistake.
They arrived at the headmaster's office and the gargoyle immediately sprung aside to allow them access. They made their way up the spiral staircase to be greeted by the site of a heated debate taking place between almost all the staff members and a clearly flustered Albus Dumbledore.
"Would you care to explain what the hell is going on Albus?" James questioned loudly from the doorway, his arm wrapped around his upset wife protectively.
"That is exactly what we are trying to figure out Potter," Snape replied with a sneer.
"Well Snape, as this does not concern you in any way, could you kindly piss off? That goes for any of you this does not involve," he gritted out angrily.
There were very few that would be willing to cross wands with James Potter the auror, let alone James Potter the family man. He had become ruthless since the death of his own parents and even more so since Halloween of 1981. His reputation was of a hardened man, ruthless. He had earned his said reputation over the years as probably the most gifted auror seen in the department for a very long time.
The room eventually emptied of all aside from the two Potters, Albus Dumbledore and Mad-eye Moody. He merely shrugged and stood his ground stubbornly.
"I believe Alastor's presence here will be beneficial," Dumbledore sighed tiredly.
"So would you care to explain how and why Harry's name came out of that goblet?" James questioned expectantly.
"The cup was confounded," Moody growled in response.
James nodded.
"That doesn't explain why it was Harry's name that came out," James returned irritably.
"I don't know why, but I believe it was done by Voldemort," Dumbledore offered cryptically. "We all know what we saw that night," he reminded them.
Moody glanced between the three but none gave anything away with their reactions.
""But Harry can't even use his magic," James pointed out. "He can't compete in this tournament".
"I agree entirely, but it appears that the Goblet has selected him despite the Confundus charm," Dumbledore explained. "He will have to compete or lose his magic and again we know what happens to him if that is to pass".
Lily shuddered at the thought of the Horcrux possessing her boy.
"So what the hell do we do? Just drag him away from Petunia and throw him in the deep end?"
Dumbledore shook his head and took a deep sigh. This was the moment his past actions were going to come to light and he would receive his comeuppance.
"Harry is not with Petunia," he muttered, barely audible to the others in the room.
"WHAT?" James roared, causing Dumbledore to flinch.
"Harry was taken by Sirius eight months after he was placed with the Dursley's," he revealed.
Both James and Lily could only stare at the man in confusion. This was not possible at all.
James shook his head.
"We saw Harry less than two months ago," he sputtered. "You had better well explain yourself Dumbledore," he demanded furiously as the old man continued to shake his head in denial.
And he did, for the most part.
He explained about the false memories he had implanted in to the boy, the obliviations and the late night visits he had been paying to them also.
The level of deceit they had been victim to stunned both James and Lily. A myriad of emotions washed over them and it took them some time to even formulate a response. Lily collapsed into a chair behind her in a near catatonic state, thoughts of guilt, loss and betrayal plaguing her mind.
James Potter however drew his wand and aimed it at the headmaster.
Moody had expected such a reaction and immediately disarmed him. He did not take into account however that the man would simply step forward and plough his fists into the already crooked nose of the headmaster.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER," he screamed as he took a second swing at the man.
Moody froze the man with a body-bind. He too was astounded at the level of Dumbledore's manipulations but knew the importance of mediating this scenario. The Potters would only want to look out for their kid and if they killed Albus, that would be much harder to accomplish.
"You've fucked up royally, Albus," he growled in disgust.
"I'll fucking kill you," James vowed, but found himself quickly silenced by a flick of Moody's wand. This didn't stop him from mouthing expletives towards the man.
"Potter, you can kill Albus later," Moody spoke once more. "But I think the main concern here and now is finding your boy, don't you think?"
James reluctantly nodded but his murderous glare towards the headmaster continued.
"Good, now do you know where he is?" Moody questioned in exasperation.
Dumbledore was bleeding heavily from his nose, but answered the question with a nod.
"Then why is he not with us?" Lily asked weakly.
The woman was in shock but Moody had no doubt once that wore off; she too would attempt to attack the fool. He strategically placed himself in a position where he could quickly deal with such a response if it became necessary. It was not out of a sense of duty for his friend, he deserved what was coming. It was to ensure that they all remained on topic; the clock was against them after all.
"Because Sirius is technically his legal guardian," he responded with a grimace. "He is his sworn Godfather. The moment you placed him in my care, Sirius became his primary provider because of the oath he gave. Something I overlooked in the aftermath of the war," he admitted.
"You overlooked a lot of things Albus," Moody spat. "You should be in Azkaban for what you've done. But that is for another day. Might I remind you that you only have 48 hours to get him here".
Dumbledore nodded soberly.
"Then I shall write to Arcturus immediately".
"What the hell has Arcturus Black got to do with this?" Lily returned heatedly.
"It was with him that I spoke when Harry first went missing," Dumbledore explained. "Though he will not be happy to see me again. But I am sure he will understand under these circumstances," he sighed.
"Why didn't you just tell them the moment he went missing?" Moody questioned.
"Because I was trying to protect everyone involved. I know how foolish I have been," he admitted grudgingly.
"Do not think this is over Dumbledore," James broke in, the silencing charm seemingly wearing off. "I swear that you will pay for what you've done," he vowed vehemently.
"I will do all I can to atone for my mistakes," the headmaster promised.
James shook his head.
"You will do whatever you can to keep Harry safe. You will bring him home and you will stay away from my family or so help me I will kill you myself," he responded, tears beginning to stream from his eyes.
Dumbledore nodded his understanding. He would not put it past James Potter to actually try such a thing.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Lily hissed.
Dumbledore left the room as quickly as he could to contact the Lord Black, another conversation he was dreading.
"I will ensure he stays away from you and if you want to press charges then you can count on me," Moody offered, his tone sincere.
"Thank you Alastor," Lily whispered. "I think we just need some time alone. We have a lot to take in and talk about," she sighed wearily.
Moody left the pair, cursing Albus under his breath as he went. How could the man be so stupid let alone so callous?
That family had lost more than most during the war and Dumbledore had only added to their grief, although they were not completely blameless from what he could tell. He had sympathy for them but he couldn't excuse the foolishness they had demonstrated by trusting the old man so much.
"Let's just hope the boy is up to the challenge," he muttered as he made his way back to his office.
This night called for a glass or two of Ogden's finest to be enjoyed and he planned on getting his share.
(BREAK)
James and Lily arrived home at their small cottage, both emotionally and physically exhausted after the events of the evening. Without saying a word to each other they settled into the living room lost in their own thoughts, pondering what had gone so wrong all those years ago and what they were going to do now. James briefly contemplated retrieving something from his liquor cabinet, but the very thought turned sour in his mouth. He needed to handle this sober no matter how tempting the alcohol was.
It was Lily that eventually broke the silence between the two. She had simply been sat, worrying her bottom lip. Her thoughts were very similar to that of her husband, she just could not comprehend how things had become so bad.
"What are we going to do James?" She questioned, her tone full of pleading.
The man sighed and dragged a hand through his hair.
"What can we do Lils? We've made our bed and now we have to lie in it".
Lily nodded. It was a bitter pill to swallow but she could expect nothing less.
"Do you think he will ever forgive us?"
James snorted, but there was no humour in it. It was a sound of bitterness.
"Would you if you were him?" he asked rhetorically. "If he is anything like either of us then we have no hope," he added with a shrug. "And if he is anything like the Blacks then he will probably try to kill us on the moment he lays eyes on us".
Lily frowned at her husband. She did not disagree with him, but he seemed strangely accepting of the situation.
"So you've just give up already?" she questioned, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
James shook his head.
"I'm just being realistic. As much as I want to blame Albus for all this we are to blame just as much or even more so," he sighed. "I'm not giving up but in all honesty we do not deserve his forgiveness," he explained.
Lily nodded her agreement as a fresh wave of tears broke free.
"So what do we do now?"
"I am going to do everything I possibly can to show my son how sorry I am," James declared. "I don't expect anything will come of it," he muttered. "But I won't ever stop trying".
"We should have listened to Sirius," Lily sighed. "We shouldn't have let him be taken".
James nodded.
"Who would have ever thought that Padfoot knew best?"
"He is the only one who has gotten any of this right," Lily pointed out.
"It's the only good thing to come out of this," James concurred. "At least we know Harry has been raised by someone who loves him unconditionally and would do anything to keep him safe".
"He already went against Dumbledore to do it too," Lily whispered.
James nodded.
"I just hope he will be okay," he whispered in reply as he pulled her close and placed a kiss on the top of her head.
"Does it not worry you that he has been raised by the Blacks?"
"He's been raised by Sirius," James reminded her. "And even if Arcturus has had a hand in it, he's not so bad. If he likes you," he muttered.
The two fell into a comfortable silence once more for some time. Both knew they had made a mess of things and equally agreed that the chances of Harry forgiving them were slim at best, but both also agreed that Sirius taking the boy is the best thing that could have happened under the circumstances.
"As long as he is happy that's all that matters," Lily sighed.
She was heartbroken by the choices she herself had made over a decade ago and she knew her husband was feeling the same. She would not wallow in her guilt and she would accept what was coming her way just as James would. If Harry was safe and happy then whatever he chose to do was fine by her.
Both Potters knew they deserved nothing from their eldest.
(BREAK)
Arcturus glared malevolently at the headmaster stood before him; the Lord Black was not a happy man. Only last night he had retired for the evening and found his rest interrupted by the arrival of Dumbledore's phoenix in a flash of fire. If that wasn't bad enough, the note it left demanded an immediate audience with him. Things had apparently gone awry and Harry's life was in danger.
The only reason that Arcturus was even entertaining the man was because of this revelation, but that did not mean he was going to receive any courtesy. No man made demands of the Lord Black, and Albus Dumbledore was currently feeling his ire.
The moment he had arrived Arcturus had him bound, silenced and his magic suppressed by the wards. He was going to make this as uncomfortable for the Chief Warlock as possible.
"So you did not heed my warning," he growled irritably. "Did I not tell you almost thirteen years ago what would happen should you attempt to interfere in his life again? Did I not tell you that I would allow my wards to kill you?"
The headmaster was visibly pale and shaken. He however shook his head furiously, attempting to speak.
With a snarl Arcturus released the silencing charm and took his seat behind his desk.
"I can assure you Lord Black, this interference is not a machination of my own," Dumbledore proclaimed.
Arcturus tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes at the fool.
"So what is it that has your knickers in a twist?"
Dumbledore sighed dramatically.
"Do you keep abreast of what is happening in the Ministry?"
Arcturus flared his nostrils in distaste.
"The workings of the old fossils in there are certainly not a priority of mine," he responded icily.
Dumbledore bowed his head in understanding.
"So you are unaware that the Tri-Wizard tournament has been reestablished," he stated.
Arcturus now had an idea of what this visit was truly about.
"And you are saying that Harry's name has come out of the goblet".
Dumbledore nodded.
"And you had nothing to do with that?" the Black Lord demanded.
"I did not, not in any way," the older man denied firmly.
The other man nodded. Dumbledore was a manipulative old goat, but he would never put himself at risk like this.
"So who is responsible?"
Dumbledore shrugged slightly.
"We have no idea but the cup was put under a Confundus charm".
"It must have been a powerful wizard to fool such a thing," Arcturus mused whilst scratching his chin in thought. "And what is it you really think?" he asked. "You know something," he added dangerously.
Dumbledore nodded. He knew a degree of honesty was necessary right now.
"There are whispers that the Dark Lord is growing in strength. He will return it is just a matter of when".
"And you think this has been done under his orders? To finish what he started?"
Dumbledore nodded confidently.
"Harry will have to compete, the contract is clear on that".
Arcturus shook his head.
"The boy clearly did not enter himself," he pointed out irritably.
"The goblet was confunded and it chose him," Dumbledore explained apologetically.
"What was the name that came out of it?"
"Harry James Potter".
Arcturus nodded. Even though Harry was no longer a Potter by name he had his suspicions that he still carried the Potter magic and in things such as magical contracts, that was all that mattered. If it was something needed to be signed with a blood quill, then he had a feeling it would be very different.
"He is no longer a Potter, but because he still carries their magic it would be sufficient to tie him to the contract," he conceded.
"It would," Dumbledore agreed, not at all surprised Harry was no longer a Potter, on paper at least. "The main issue is his magic however," he added worriedly as he shot the other a pointed look.
Arcturus held his gaze for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, a laughter that had Dumbledore both recoiling and questioning his sanity.
"Am I missing some kind of humour in this situation, Lord Black?" he asked with a frown.
It took a moment, but Arcturus did manage to compose himself. He finally shook his head and openly grinned.
"Oh you will see, but there are a few things you need to know," Arcturus responded firmly.
Dumbledore nodded and waited for him to continue.
"Harry is not a Horcrux," he confirmed sternly. "Well, not anymore".
Dumbledore's eyes widened comically as he began to sputter.
"How? When?"
Arcturus smirked once more.
"That thing was destroyed about nine years ago now and believe me, his magic is just fine. That is all you need to know," he finished firmly.
Dumbledore sighed in relief. It was not at all a lost cause and the boy at least stood a chance.
"Why did he not come to Hogwarts?" he asked, more than a little disappointed.
"He was offered it," Arcturus replied with a shrug. "He sought his education elsewhere. Now if there is nothing else, then I have to pay a visit to my family and explain why Harry has to spend time somewhere he wants to avoid like a case of Dragon Pox".
Dumbledore nodded.
"He must be at Hogwarts by tomorrow evening or he will be in breach of contract," he warned.
"He'll be there," Arcturus assured him. "But you can expect him to be… hostile. And one more thing Dumbledore," Arcturus added. "If you attempt to involve yourself with my Grandson in any way, I can promise you I will throw every last resource I have at my power to ruin your life, understood?" he questioned as he pointed the man to his return portkey.
Dumbledore swallowed nervously, nodded and accepted the offered portkey, quickly finding himself outside the gates of Hogwarts.
The meeting had gone smoother than he could have hoped for. The only thing left now was to await the arrival of the boy and something in his gut told him that he would be much less amiable to deal with.
He was certain to hold grudges against many here.
(BREAK)
Harry rolled to his right, his movements sharp and purposeful. He smirked as he unleashed a torrent of water, quickly followed by a bolt of lightning that merged perfectly with its predecessor causing his opponent to flop to the ground in desperation to escape the volatile combination. This was when Harry was in his element. This is what he was born to do. His desire to be the best was unmatched and the work he put into achieving his goals, unprecedented.
From a young age he had been told he would never be able to wield his magic. He had been told that he would have to be content with only its study and the practicality of only subjects that had no need of a wand.
At age seven that had all changed and Harry had never once taken his magic for granted. From then on he had nourished it, cherished it and had become one with it. At first he had had difficulties with it, but that had changed. Those problems had been fixed.
At age nine he had received his first wand on the recommendation that he needed an outlet for his erratic magic, to release the pent up energy that continuously begged to be used. It was here that his true education had begun and he had approached it with unrelenting passion.
By age thirteen he had tamed it to perfection. He understood the needs of his magic and it understood him, the relationship forged through trial and error of hardship and want.
And now at age sixteen, he was still surpassing the expectations of all who offered him instruction. He still pushed and pushed himself to be the best he could, to be as strong as possible. The desire had never left, it had only increased and did so the more he achieved.
Those around him would often ask why he was so determined, why he had such high demands of himself and what it was he wanted to achieve, what was the end goal?
His response had always been the same. He simply smiled at them and gave a shrug.
"I want to be the best".
Although this was true, it was deeper than just simply wanting to be the best. Just like any, Harry had fears and his came courtesy of the nightmares that had plagued him since his magic had been unbound. Halloween 1981 was as fresh in his mind as though it had happened only moments ago.
At first he would wake from these dreams, trembling and fearful. He would struggle to sleep, seeing a bright green flash of light, the incantation of the spell ringing in his ears as he buried himself under his duvet. It would not be until a fair few years later that their meaning became understood and he knew what it was he had survived. He had of course questioned how such a thing was possible. It had stuck with him for some time but he had learnt over the years that he was never likely to formulate an accurate theory. Instead he buried that dream and everything around it behind the defenses of his mind. A special place that no one would ever see, a place where he kept his darkest secrets.
This incantation was not the only one he was familiar with. Even before he had gotten his wand and even before he had read a book of spells he knew more than a few already. It was as though they had been forced into his own mind by something not his, though he could never understand where such knowledge had come from. He knew both the incantation and correct wand movements for these spells and had added them to his arsenal as he had gotten older. These were spells he hadn't shown Sirius. The man would demand to know where he had learnt such things and Harry simply did not have the answer to those kinds of questions. He hadn't even come across them in the library when he had actively looked. It was something he planned on investigating much later. For now, he was just pleased that he had such weapons at his disposal if the situation ever called for it. He placed this knowledge in the same part of his fortified mind as his dreams and left them there, ready to be called upon if and when required.
As he had gotten older these dreams and their connotations had gotten easier to deal with. He had learnt everything he could about that one green spell in particular and the other two in the same league. He had learnt every defense possible and had even demanded his Aunt place him under the latter two so he could feel the effects. For some reason, he just needed to know. The woman had done so reluctantly when he had been fifteen. He quickly learnt that he never wanted to be exposed to the torture curse again, but the Imperius did not work on him.
What did become apparent, as he got older was that it was not the curse itself he feared, but it is what had happened after that night. He had been abandoned by those that apparently loved him and he always carried a bit of the fear of that happening again should he not be able to please those he was surrounded by. He of course knew deep down that wouldn't happen, but it was something that had always stayed with him, his one insecurity if you will.
His motivation was his own and it was all he needed day in and day out to excel the way he did. His prowess was not just gifted by his aptitude for practical magic; it had been earned through tireless work, an abundance of dedication and the aforementioned desire that permeated every fibre of his being.
It of course didn't hurt that he was a Black. Being the best he could be was not only expected of him but encouraged also. He had never been denied the knowledge he sought, no matter the topic and he had never been halted in anything he chose to pursue. Well for the most part. This was the only thing that himself and Sirius had ever had clashed on. Aunt Cassie would always provide him with the means and knowledge to achieve anything he wished whereas Sirius would sometimes have his reservations. Harry knew the man worried and cared for him and that this was the reason for such hesitance but he had always been able to convince his father to allow him to study and practice whatever he wanted eventually.
He batted aside the stunning spell sent his way and returned fire with two cutting curses aimed low. He followed this up with a quickly conjured wave of arrows and disappeared with a gentle pop.
Sirius managed to avoid the assault but quickly found himself felled from a stiff punch to the jaw courtesy of his son. Before he could catch his bearings he was bound by ropes, wandless and three teeth short.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," he whined petulantly as he caught sight of the smirking boy.
Harry shrugged.
"It's either that or I take you down with something much less pleasant," he replied casually.
Sirius shuddered involuntarily. Harry had delved into things he had never cared to look into. Over the years he had witnessed the effects of some of these spells and they certainly weren't pleasant.
"Still, does it have to be the face?" he grumbled.
The two were interrupted by the sound of loud clapping and Harry immediately trained his wand on its source but quickly lowered it, his head following suit in deference as he became aware of who the rare visitor was.
"Grandfather," he greeted the man respectfully.
The man smiled and nodded at the boy.
"Harry," he greeted him warmly. "Nicely done as always," he praised.
Harry reveled in the words and his own smile formed.
"And he doesn't seem to require medical attention this time," Arcturus mused. "Could you release him and join me in the den? We have something important to discuss".
Harry nodded worriedly as the man exited the room. He untied his father who shrugged unknowingly at the unasked question before they followed him and took a seat in the requested room.
Cassiopeia was there also looking expectantly at her brother but the man only had eyes for one. Arcturus stared at Harry for a few moments contemplatively, finally nodding in satisfaction at only what he could see.
"Something has come up that is going to displease you," he began diplomatically.
He knew that Harry would be furious by the latest development, Sirius even more so but they had to be told in some way. He decided that the most direct way would be best.
"What is it?" Harry asked nervously.
"Hogwarts is playing host to the Tri-Wizard tournament this year and you have been chosen as a fourth champion".
Harry frowned deeply as he tried to digest what it was he had just been told and Sirius stood, trembling in rage.
"Dumbledore," he hissed furiously.
Arcturus held up a hand to calm the man.
"That had been my initial thought, but no, it wasn't the old fool".
"Voldemort," Harry whispered.
"Dumbledore believes so," Arcturus agreed. "He may be an interfering bastard but he is usually right about these things".
Sirius growled and began pacing.
"How is this even possible, how did his name come out? Better yet why?" he demanded.
Arcturus shook his head.
"The cup was confunded apparently," he explained with distaste. "The why is obvious if the Dark Lord is involved".
Sirius nodded.
He remembered clearly what he saw that Halloween night. He knew the Dark Lord would return and it had been the only reason he had allowed Harry free reign on what it was he studied and practiced. He wanted the boy to be able to protect himself by any means necessary.
"Does the old fool know who is responsible?" Cassiopeia broke in.
"No," Arcturus confirmed. "And that is why you must be careful. Trust no one and keep alert," he warned.
Harry sighed deeply.
"And what if I refuse to go?"
"Then you will forfeit your magic," Arcturus replied gravely.
Harry's eyes flashed a dangerous emerald colour, the one trait that never failed to give away the fury he felt.
Sirius noticed this and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.
"It doesn't make sense," he muttered. "What name came out?"
"His birth name," Arcturus informed them. "Yes, he is a Black by name, by blood and even magic. But he still carries the Potter magic as demonstrated by the Goblet accepting his name for consideration under that name".
Harry grimaced in disdain at the use of his birth name. It was not a name that he had recognised as his own since Sirius had taken him from his relatives.
"But how does that even work?" he questioned in confusion.
It was Cassiopeia that answered, though she herself did not seem completely certain.
"Despite your feelings about your parents, the Potter magic is very strong," she admitted. "The chances are it accepted the changes and infused with our own rather than allowing itself to be eradicated entirely," she offered with a shrug. "The Blacks are famous for their affinity with curses, ritualistic magic, blood magic, warding and mind magic, all of which you have an aptitude for," she continued. "You also excel with what the Potters are known for; Transfiguration, Charms, Battle Magic and Defensive magic".
Harry rubbed at his nose in irritation. He grudgingly conceded the point his Aunt made. He was equally gifted in those areas, much more so than any of his relatives present.
"So I have to go to Hogwarts or I will lose my magic?"
Arcturus nodded.
"Yes, and that means you will have to face them, all of them," he reiterated.
"I don't care about facing them," Harry growled angrily. He knew it was likely to happen sooner or later and he had accepted that. He would just prefer it if it could be on his own terms rather than forced as it had been.
Arcturus nodded in satisfaction that the boy was not going to be difficult, not about going any way. He fully expected him to make everything as difficult as he could for Dumbledore and his ilk.
He stood and gave his robe a quick brushing.
"You will have to be there by evening meal tomorrow," he instructed. "Sirius will fill you in on what the tournament is and will be with you the whole time".
"As will I," his aunt assured him.
Arcturus made his way to the door but paused before addressing the boy once more.
"And Harry," he called, his tone business like. "You are a Black, and I will be most disappointed in you if you do not conduct yourself in such a way. You will try your best and you will prove to them all why they should still quiver at the mention of our name".
Harry stood ramrod straight at the command.
"Yes sir," he responded firmly.
Although none in the room saw it, Arcturus smiled proudly. Whoever had put his name in the goblet had no idea what they had just unleashed upon that school.
He left the others to their given tasks, satisfied that they knew what to do. He however had his own things to tend to, primarily, who was the one at Hogwarts that was the threat to his family. That was something he was determined to uncover for himself, and when he did, he would make their life as miserable as humanly possible.
(BREAK)
After Arcturus had departed, the three remaining Blacks had spent some time discussing the tournament itself, what it entailed and what would be expected from Harry. He wasn't particularly keen on the idea of a ball, but one look from his Aunt quelled any verbal objections. She had taught him to dance growing up, that would not be the problem. His main issue was the fact that he had spent next to no time with people of the opposite sex. That was something he would have to remedy.
The next point of discussion had been what the tasks themselves would include, though they were always kept secret until the last possible moment. Harry was confident that he could manage anything thrown at him in a competition; it was the possibility of outside interference that had the trio concerned.
It wasn't until they had exhausted the subject that Harry stumbled across a realisation and he groaned audibly.
"What is it?" Sirius asked.
Harry shook his head in despair before answering.
"Leo is going to be insufferable," he sighed.
Sirius burst into laughter and pounded the small table they sat around with his fist.
"Between the two of you, Hogwarts won't know what's hit it," he guffawed.
"There is no controlling that boy," Harry grumbled. "When is he back anyway?"
"It should be any day," Sirius shrugged. "The Irish Ministry can be a pain to deal with and then he still has to see the goblins".
"So, do we send him an owl?"
"Probably better to leave him a note for when he gets back if he isn't already when we leave".
Harry nodded.
"Yeah," he sighed. "I guess we had better pack then".
"We should," Sirius agreed. "Don't worry, we will keep anyone away from you you don't want to speak to," he promised.
Harry smiled and gave the man a tight hug.
"Thanks Dad," he said gratefully.
Sirius just pulled him in closer and tightened the embrace. He would not allow anyone to upset his son and it would only be a very foolish person to try. He knew there would be those who would be persistent but he would deal with them if and when necessary.
(BREAK)
The Hogwarts rumour mill had been rife with speculation ever since the announcement of the fourth champion had happened almost two days ago. Questions of who this other Potter boy was, where he had been and how his name had come of the goblet had been running through almost every mind of the castle. Many had vocalized their theories ranging from the fairly plausible to the outright ridiculous and some had chosen to remain reticent.
The media too, as expected, had also put forth its own theories regarding the lost Potter. But as always when no information was available, they resorted to conjecture and outlandish suggestions to satiate their readers need for scandal and drama. Rita Skeeter had been in her element over the last two days, her ignorance and bias in full swing as always. She certainly would not have been so bold had she had any inkling of the truth and would most likely live to regret her decisions to print her usual vitriol once it became clear on just who was involved.
Charlie had been inundated with queries regarding his absentee brother but he flatly refused to discuss the topic with anyone. His mood would not allow him to cater to the ridiculous conspiracy theories he had heard whispered about the corridors. He instead chose to isolate himself, particularly after the horrific conversation he had shared with his parents that very morning.
After what they had revealed to him he had felt sick, even disgusted with their actions. His own brother had been sent away because of something that had happened that he had no fault in. His disgust had given way to both anger and guilt and he fully expected the arriving boy to despise him as much as he certainly would his parents. He had never felt shame for being a Potter, it was a name he had carried with pride and it now only filled him with disappointment.
He understood to a degree why things had gone the way they had but he could not excuse the actions of his Mother and Father. He knew they felt guilty enough and that the mistakes they had made would now haunt them forever but he could simply not comprehend why they had done what they did. They had told him that they had only been looking out for both himself and Harry, but all they had achieved was losing their son.
He shook his head irritably at those still staring in his direction. The only thing he wanted now was for his brother to survive this tournament and have the chance to get on with his life without the interference of headmasters and people who had cast him aside as though he meant nothing.
His eyes wandered to those sat at the staff table, most looking nervous at the impending arrival of Harry. Dumbledore was not his usual chipper self and his mother was nothing short of terrified, a pale and nervous mess.
The food eventually appeared on the plates for the evening meal and the whispers soon followed. More speculation, more theories and more teenage stupidity spewing from the mouths of the younger people within the hall.
The Slytherins however did not whisper. They openly mocked the name Potter, grinning in amusement as they did so.
"I hear he's nothing more than a squib".
That was undoubtedly the voice of Draco Malfoy.
Charlie's hand gripped his fork tightly and he wanted nothing more than to curse the idiot. He gritted his teeth and fought to calm himself, he couldn't defend someone he knew nothing about. He didn't care if his brother was a squib, but it would make him a much easier target in the halls here if that were the case and the Slytherins were not likely to be particularly welcoming.
Just as the room had settled into eating their dinner the door to the Great Hall banged open and in the door way stood four people. Dumbledore and the rest of the staff immediately stood, the former looking on with trepidation, his welcoming smile a little forced.
The first individual was an elderly man though his stiff posture and piercing grey eyes denoted sharpness, intellect and power. He was a presence unto his own, a presence that screamed authority and commanded respect.
The second was a lady a little younger but still close to his age. Her visage was one of a once very beautiful woman, a beauty she maintained a shade of in her later years. Her near black orbs gazed over the room in familiarity, but left those who caught it fighting the urge to shudder.
The next was a considerably younger man this one was much more edgy than the first two and gave of an impression of readiness. Just one look at him would have you believe that his wand could be in his hand in less than a second and whomever had caused such action would be cursed in the next. He had the grey eyes of the first but these were full of mistrust. He was slightly taller and what many women would consider handsome. His goatee was flawlessly trimmed, his long ebony locks tied back with a simple leather band and he stood a little closer than necessary to the fourth.
This was the youngest of the four, the fourth champion they had all been waiting for. He was an inch or so shorter than the third, his eyes a shade or two lighter. From what could be seen of him he was athletically built; lean, lithe, but a body that was the byproduct of physical work. His own hair, a thick black, cascaded loosely but neatly to just above his shoulders. He received more than few appreciative glances, none of which he appeared at all aware of.
The first three could be read somewhat. Whether that was done intentionally by them, one could only guess, but the fourth was expressionless. His eyes gave away nothing; his posture was neutral and the rest of his features stoic.
They walked between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables and approached the staff members amidst the complete silence of the hall.
"Lord Black," Dumbledore greeted the eldest man with a deep bow.
"Dumbledore," the man acknowledged him with only a slight nod.
"I see both Cassiopeia and Sirius are here also," the headmaster continued, though he seemed concerned about the presence of the woman.
"And they will remain here for the duration of the tournament," Arcturus insisted firmly.
Cassiopeia was grinning slightly at Dumbledore's weariness.
The headmaster sighed but nodded his consent.
"And this must be Mr. Potter," Dumbledore added with a smile.
"Black," Arcturus corrected immediately.
Lily fidgeted in her seat and Dumbledore flinched slightly at his tone but quickly offered the youngest a bow.
"My apologies, Mr. Black".
A slight tilt of the head is all he received in reply from the boy.
"There will be one other joining ourselves in the next few days, my new apprentice and friend of Harry's," Cassiopeia explained.
"I will see to it that you are all accommodated for," the headmaster assured the woman. "Please take a seat wherever you wish, the meeting of the champions will resume after dinner".
Arcturus gave an imperceptible nod to Harry who flicked his wand into his hand from within his sleeve. With a few flicks, he conjured a sizeable marble table and four chairs, one of which sat at the very end and was larger and more ornate than the other three. He then moved and stood next the chair on the left as the rest of the Blacks took their positions. Arcturus took the largest at the head, Sirius the one furthest away and Cassiopeia moved towards the youngest who pulled the seat out and offered it to her.
She sat down and gave the boy a grateful smile before he took the seat opposite. Arcturus was the last to sit and only did so when the rest of the family was settled.
The rest of the hall watched in fascination as this was all carried out. The purebloods educated in the old ways understood the ritual but many others looked on in confusion.
The level of Transfiguration demonstrated by the boy more than impressed Dumbledore and he knew the whole charade was a clear statement to everyone.
The casual use of advanced magic was a small glimpse at the talent he possessed but also proof that he could provide for his family. The offering of the chair to Cassiopeia had been a gesture that she would be the first to feast as the eldest female and Arcturus took his seat last to demonstrate that he was the protector of the table and that any threat that would interrupt their dining would be dealt with by him.
It had been a very long time that Albus Dumbledore had witnessed such a practice. It was one that had fallen out of favour, but the Blacks held on to traditions such as these. It was these traditions in which their great house had been built on.
Without his usual flare, Dumbledore discreetly had some food appear on their table from the kitchen and received a grateful nod from the Black patriarch. He then took his seat and watched the fourth champion for a moment, attempting to sense any nervousness or tension about him.
There was tension yes, but not noticeable to the untrained eye but he lacked the nervousness that had been expected. He was quietly confident yet would be ready in a heartbeat to spring into action though his composure remained as relaxed as can be.
Whatever education the boy had, he clearly had faith in.
"Interesting," he mused internally.
(BREAK)
Once it was clear that the conversation between the new arrivals and Dumbledore had concluded, the students turned their attention back to their plates and struck up conversations amongst themselves, more than a few shooting glances towards the Black entourage.
"Well, he's definitely not a squib," Ron Weasley declared, for once not attempting to consume the entirety of the table himself.
"Not a squib?" Hermione questioned dramatically. "He just conjured a table made of marble as though it was nothing," she pointed out. "That's something we won't even learn here".
"Watch out mate, Hermione's got the hots for your brother," Ron warned mockingly as he nudged Charlie in the ribs with his elbow.
"I have not," Hermione denied hotly, a slight blush forming on her cheeks. "I'm just appreciating his use of magic".
"That's what we are all appreciating," Alicia Spinnet broke in with a wink, her two fellow chasers nodding in agreement.
"Oi…"
"We are here you know," the Weasley twins reminded them.
The girls just giggled in response.
"Unbelievable," Fred sighed, throwing his hands up in despair. "He walks straight in and steals our girls without even trying".
"Are you sure he's really your brother?" George added to Charlie.
The boy shrugged as he continued to watch the Blacks.
"He doesn't look anything like he does in the pictures at home," he replied. "He had green eyes like Mum".
"Why is he calling himself Black?" Hermione asked with a slight frown.
"Because he is one," Charlie responded with a sad smile. "He's been with them since he was four".
Harry had not been what he had expected at all. He had thought that he would be similar to himself, misunderstood and perhaps even a little meek but this was not the case. He was clearly gifted, confident and had the loving family that had been taken away from him.
He did smile at those observations though.
He was a little disappointed that he seemingly had nothing in common with the other boy but he was pleased he had found his family, one that hadn't turned him away as his own had.
He pushed the food on his plate around a little having lost his appetite completely.
"Maybe he was better off without us," he mused. Everything he had seen so far would suggest so.
(BREAK)
Most sat at the table of the serpents were contemplative, each digesting what they had just witnessed. It was not Harry Potter, son of James and Lily, brother to the near squib Charlie that had entered their school as expected. This was a boy raised by the Blacks and those in the know were more than a little wary of the family. Although they had not made any form of public appearance since during the war, their reputation preceded them and the snake pit were not so sure how to handle this development.
"A squib is he Draco?" Blaise Zabini mocked.
Draco turned purple at the barb and grit his teeth.
"It seems as though he just waltzed right in with the other half of your family," Theodore Nott added quietly.
Theodore and Blaise had both been educated on the notable families of wizarding Britain and the Blacks were at the top of the pecking order. Each had always had it drummed into them that they should be treated with caution but respect nonetheless. Many of their number had fallen in the service of the Dark Lord but old Arcturus had refused to choose a side. He had allowed his family to make their own choices, choices that most had not lived to regret.
Bellatrix had been imprisoned since the end of the war and Narcissa hadn't exactly escaped unscathed. She may be married into the Malfoys, but even their reputation was heavily tainted. It was only the plea of 'under the imperius' and several 'donations' had Lucius escaped imprisonment, but the family name would never hold the same esteem it once had.
The rest of the notable ones had lost their lives; Regulus, Walburga, Orion, Druella and even Cygnus had fallen. What was left of the Blacks was now sat at the table that the fourth champion had conjured, small in size, but still seemingly a family not to be underestimated.
"None of it matters," Draco hissed furiously. "I am the heir Black and when the current Lord passes, it will be given to me," he finished airily.
"Looks like you've got competition," Theo muttered.
A few of his housemates chuckled but shot a wary glance towards Harry Black.
If this boy were to become the head of the family, then the implications could be detrimental to their own families if he chose to use the power that his name commanded.
It was no secret that the Dark Lord had fallen attempting to attack the boy and his brother, but what would his stance be should the man return as the rumours suggested?
"We will see about that?" Draco huffed.
(BREAK)
As the meal came to a close and the plates were wiped clean, Dumbledore stood to address the room.
"If I could kindly ask the champions to join me in the antechamber to the front of the hall, then we can commence in officially briefing them on what to expect during the duration of the tournament," he requested.
Harry stood along with the rest of the Blacks and entered through the indicated the door. The room he found himself in was small with a few chairs littered around the lit fireplace. Only a moment later it was filled to capacity with an array of people ranging from professors, headmasters, a few ministry employees and the other three champions.
Dumbledore gave a jovial clap of his hands as he took the centre of the room and began to speak once more.
"We shall begin with introductions for the benefit of err Mr. Black and his escorts," he announced. "These two gentlemen," he began by indicating the pair of middle-aged ministry workers. "Are Mr. Ludo Bagman, the head of the department of magical games and sports and Mr. Bartemius Crouch, head of the department of international magical cooperation".
Crouch twitched his moustache in irritation whereas Bagman appeared to need surgery to remove his smile.
Harry greeted them both with a nod.
"Here we have Igor Karkaroff, Headmaster of the Durmstrang institute and the schools champion, Viktor Krum".
Harry had heard of both. Karkaroff had been a Death Eater during the war and Krum was the youngest seeker to play for his international team in modern history.
Again, Harry acknowledged them with a nod.
"This is Madame Olympe Maxime, Headmistress of the Beauxbaton's Academy of magic and their school champion, Fleur Delacour".
Harry greeted them in the same fashion as he had the others. He knew of neither so to him they were rather insignificant and judging by the cold glare he was receiving from the silver-haired girl, the feeling was mutual.
As he caught her eye he felt her foreign magic slam into his mental shields, which he quickly reinforced before narrowing his eyes at her.
"Please reign in your allure Miss Delacour, it is rather rude to allow it to slip from your control in such a way," he spoke calmly yet sternly.
The girl had the decency to look abashed at being caught in the act, though Harry thought it was more due to the scathing glare her own headmistress was giving her.
Most of the adults frowned in disapproval at the girl also but Dumbledore headed off any further unpleasantness.
"The tasks throughout the tournament will be judged by myself, Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff and both esteemed members from the Ministry," he explained.
"And what assurances are there that you will all remain impartial?" Arcturus broke in. "It appears that each of your champions has a judge on side, yet Harry does not have such a luxury".
Cassiopeia and Sirius both murmured their agreement.
"If a decision is deemed to be unfair in any way then we can call upon the goblet for judgment," Crouch answered.
"An object that has already been manipulated once," Cassiopeia interjected.
"Then what is it you would suggest Miss Black?" Dumbledore asked.
"A magical vow from each judge that they will preside over the tasks in a fair and unbiased manner," she replied.
Karkaroff did not seem at all happy at the suggestion but the others seemed to consider it.
"I have no objections," Ludo Bagman agreed readily.
Crouch nodded his consent and both Dumbledore and Maxime voiced no concerns.
"Then it shall be given before the first task begins," Dumbledore declared happily.
Arcturus gestured for the man to continue, satisfied with the plan.
"One thing we need to clarify," Crouch spoke up. "Who is it Mr. Black shall be representing? What school is he currently attending?"
"He will be representing the House of Black," Arcturus answered immediately. "Harry has received an education from several establishments but none of which he will be competing for".
A silent conversation took place between the judges and each merely shrugged indifferently. Once it was clear there were no objections, the headmaster continued.
"Now, the first official event will be the weighing of the wands. This is just to check that the champion's wands are in prime condition for the tasks ahead. This will take place a week before the first task, which is on the 24th of November," he explained.
"And are the champions given any inclination to which the task will entail?" Sirius asked.
"No," Crouch confirmed. "The first task is designed to test the champions when they are faced with an unknown danger".
Sirius nodded, but it was clear this did not please him.
"The second task will be announced after the completion of the first but before that will be the Yule Ball held here on Christmas day," Dumbledore continued. "The champions will be expected to open the ball with their chosen partners in the form of a dance," he finished with a warm smile.
"That is everything that needs to be revealed for now," Crouch cut in irritably.
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "You are free to leave and begin your preparations. Mr. Black? If you could please remain behind whilst we discuss your accommodations".
Harry nodded and the majority of the room emptied leaving The Blacks with Dumbledore and what seemed to be the majority of the Hogwarts staff.
"Perhaps this conversation would be better suited to my office, it is vastly more comfortable," Dumbledore offered.
Harry looked to Arcturus who shrugged dismissively in response. He gave the headmaster a nod and the group exited back through the Great Hall and into the corridors of Hogwarts. Dumbledore led them up a series of moving staircases before reaching a statue of a gargoyle, which sprung aside, allowing them entrance up a narrow spiral staircase.
They finally came to a stop in a large circular room. The walls were covered in portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses; there were shelves of books and even a few with some rather strange-looking magical trinkets.
Dumbledore took a seat behind the large oak desk and waved his wand to conjure enough chairs for everyone to be comfortably seated. When the seats had been filled the old man steepled his fingers together and looked upon the youngest in the room with interest.
"Before we begin Mr. Black, do you have any questions for myself?" he asked, fully expecting the boy to have dozens.
In return he received only a shake of the head.
"Very well," the headmaster continued in surprise. "First of all you have been given separate accommodations from the rest of the students here on the third floor, which I shall escort you to once this meeting concludes. You can of course have guests in your quarters if you please, but our students are under a strict 10pm curfew," he explained.
Harry nodded his understanding.
"As you are not a student at the school these rules do not apply to yourself but please exercise caution if you choose to venture on to the grounds, particularly the forbidden forest. I would attempt to ban you from entering but if you are anything like Sirius then I am certain my words will fall on deaf ears".
Sirius did not appear remotely amused by Dumbledore's words but internally he snickered at the fond memories he had there. After a moment in which a response hadn't been spoken passed, the headmaster continued.
"You are welcome to attend any lessons you choose to whilst you are here, should you have acquired the relevant OWL grades needed for these lessons".
Harry nodded and removed his shrunken trunk from an inside pocket before restoring it to its actual size. He then popped open the lid and retrieved his results. Her handed them over to the headmaster and watched in amusement as he paled reading them.
He had initially been against attending any lessons here but all three elder Blacks had convinced him otherwise. They had pointed out that some of the best in their respective fields taught here and it would be a missed opportunity for him.
Dumbledore coughed to clear his throat.
"My apologies Mr. Black but many of these subjects are not studied here. You can however attend our; Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Arithmancy, Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes should you care to".
"Thank you headmaster, " Harry responded respectfully.
"I only accept students with an Outstanding in my NEWT potions class," Snape cut in firmly.
"Then Mr. Black's attendance will be no issue Severus," Dumbledore assured the man.
The potions master looked more than a little sour but said nothing else.
"Severus Snape?" Harry questioned as he stared intently at the man.
Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy but nodded.
"I read your mastery thesis on the use of unicorn tears in antidotes, it was a very enlightening work," Harry offered genuinely.
Almost everyone in the room exchanged looks of shock. If they hadn't heard the words or seen the wide-eyed response of Snape, none would have believed that he had just been complimented by the boy.
The potions master shifted uncomfortably.
"Thank you Mr. Black," he responded somewhat dumbly.
Sirius was roaring with laughter internally. He had no doubt that Harry actually had read and enjoyed the work he mentioned but he could tell when his son was being slightly facetious. He knew for a fact he was using flattery to avoid any issues with the man and Sirius certainly would not put it past him to use his Harry to get back at him for their former rivalry.
"Ahh, you are familiar with his work," Dumbledore rejoiced.
"I am," Harry confirmed.
The headmaster smiled at the recognition his colleague was receiving.
"Would you mind terribly if I were to copy your results to give to the staff so that they can ascertain your suitability to take their class?" he asked.
Harry shrugged indifferently. It was of no concern to him.
Dumbledore duplicated the parchment and passed the copies out which the staff read with interest.
"Well I certainly look forward to seeing you in my sixth year class Mr. Po-Black," Professor McGonagall chimed in. "I should have known you had an aptitude for Transfiguration with the fantastic conjuration you demonstrated at dinner".
Harry offered the woman a smile as Professor Flitwick spoke up.
"As do I Mr. Black. You clearly excel in charms also".
Harry offered the professor a formal bow before responding.
"I am most keen to attend classes taught by yourself Dueling Master Flitwick," he offered sincerely.
The half-goblin beamed in response and bowed respectfully in reply.
"Is there anything you don't excel in," Professor Sprout questioned seriously.
"I am abysmal with runes and have been known to fall asleep whilst attempting to study astronomy," Harry revealed with a chuckle. "I am certainly no seer, so Divination is on that list also and I am loath to take muggle studies. My experience of their world was most unpleasant," he finished with a disdainful sneer.
"Well I do believe that covers everything," Dumbledore announced, clearly hoping to avoid any unpleasant subject arising. "Unless there is anything else?"
"Actually, I have a few requests," Harry returned.
"If