Chapter 32: Record-high Popularity
Ready for some cunning but confrontational Harry?
Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!
The recognizable sections belong to JKR
Chapter 32
October 31st, 1994
Harry stared at the blank piece of parchment. The tiny ink footsteps were still moving up to the DADA classroom and the office next to it. In the office itself, Harry saw the stationary name tag of Alastor Moody.
This did not make sense. Why was Bartemius Crouch, Head of the International Magical Cooperation Department and judge in the Triwizard Tournament entering his name into the competition? What was his end goal? Harry needed time to think, it was close to four o'clock in the morning, but he could still use the time turner to get some more sleep later. Right now, he needed to talk to Salazar.
"Things didn't go according to plan," Harry just said, as he entered the Founders Quarters.
Salazar listened quietly as Harry retold the entire story:
"Okay, Harry, that's a lot to take in, of course. But let's recap:
You have been entered into the Tournament, just as you yourself have planned. That is therefore not an issue, assuming his Confundus charm works properly.
However, we don't yet know the reasons, as to why you were entered by Crouch and what Moody's role is in this entire plot. For now, I would advise to let things play out and not expose Crouch until we know exactly what his goals are.
You mentioned that Voldemort and the Rat are planning something and you can hear them in your dreams. If we assume that these two events are connected, then it is better to let things run their course, watch and learn as much as we can.
If this truly leads back to Tom, then interfering at this point only costs us our advantage and he might change his plans and become unpredictable. Stay on alert and keep an eye on Moody and Crouch.
The plot might involve hurting or killing you and making it look like an accident in the tournament. However, you will get through this. Just embrace your Slytherin side and be cunning and resourceful, you understand?"
Harry nodded: "I have to act surprised when my name comes out of the Goblet. I can't let anyone get suspicious and reveal that I know more than I should. I'll have to fool Dumbledore once again but maybe I can convince him with an oath? Technically I did not enter my name myself, but I allowed it to happen."
"The situation is too complex to use a magical oath. You risk losing your magic since you were fully aware of what's going on and how your name came out. Don't risk it. as soon as your name comes out, you are in a binding magical contract, there is nothing they can do about that." Salazar advised.
"Well, time for another year at Hogwarts, where everyone will hate me. They will think I cheated my way into the Tournament. I just hope Fleur believes me, but could I even tell her?"
"I would advise against it, Harry. You don't know her well enough yet and her pride might get in the way of her. She is unpredictable right now and might cross our plans. You will have to keep this secret to yourself."
Harry nodded sadly. He started doubting that the Veela would be understanding of the situation now. In his original plan, where he freely admits to having entered himself, he might have been able to persuade her. Now, however, he needed to act like this all happened involuntarily.
"I have a long day ahead of myself. Let me use the time turner and get some rest. I will spend tomorrow with Fleur and in the evening, I will be declared a champion. I will see you later that night for our ritual, it's Halloween after all." With that, Harry took his leave.
A couple of hours later, but after a full night's rest for Harry, the young wizard finished his workout in the ROR and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He checked the map. Alastor Moody was still in his office, but Crouch sat in the Great Hall... Let's see if as an imposter or as himself?
It was again Crouch in his Polyjuice form. Harry tried not to look suspicious and simply helped himself to some breakfast. At 7:30 am the delegation from Beauxbaton arrived, led by Madam Maxime and Fleur right behind her.
The giant headmistress led her students right in front of the Goblet where they entered their names one by one. Harry watched Fleur, as she confidently placed her small piece of parchment in the flames. She stepped out of the age line and gracefully walked over to take a seat beside Harry.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle, how was your first night in Scotland?"Harry asked her with a grin.
"It was fine, thank you, Harry. Most students were too excited to sleep anyways. As if any of them had a chance of being picked against me" Fleur stuck her delicate chin up in the air.
"Alright, firebird, get some breakfast and then you will have your tour." Harry laughed.
Fleur shot him a cold glare: "Don't play with fire, Harry, I thought you had learned your lesson, non?" But the corner of her lip barely twitched.
"What about you, have you tried anything to enter your name into the Goblet?" Fleur eyed him curiously.
Harry gulped, he knew this part would come and he hated lying to Fleur about it: "Oh no, I thought I'd actually give you a chance to win a shiny trophy yourself for once." He grinned, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes.
Fleur regarded him closely for a couple of seconds. Shit, did she know he was lying?
"Fine, let's start with the tour then." Fleur finished her breakfast, rose from her seat, and expectantly looked at Harry.
"As Mademoiselle wishes."
The two teens left the Great Hall and Harry decided to start with the Castle itself. They could go outside on the grounds when it became a bit warmer, as the day progressed. They started with the ground floor and Harry showed her the greenhouses for Herbology and the way down to the dungeons.
While guiding Fleur around, he also explained the different Houses and their traits, as well as the point system.
"I would have never assumed that this Hat placed you in Ravenclaw," Fleur interrupted.
Harry grinned at her knowingly: "And where would you have put me, now, after learning about the different traits in each House."
Fleur looked deep into his eyes for a couple of seconds, as if she was trying to stare into his soul. Her blue eyes were so memorizing that Harry was almost lost in trance.
"It is very difficult for you, I think. You are as brave as a Gryffindor, fighting in a dueling tournament as the youngest competitor ever, or confronting six grown wizards alone by yourself after the World Cup.
You can be very loyal, from what I have seen so far. The loyalty to your dead parents' memory, loyalty to your godfather and doing everything for his freedom, and even your loyalty to me, when defending me against that German brute in Moscow."
"If you say that I should be a Puff, I will hex you, Fleur!" Harry interrupted her, but his grin betrayed his true emotions.
Fleur laughed and continued: "Ravenclaw might seem like an obvious choice, especially since you are one of the best students this Castle has ever seen. However, I think it's all a farce."
"What do you mean by a farce? Do I not make a good Ravenclaw?"
"Harry, Slytherin seems perfect for you. I mean, you even speak Parseltongue. I don't know if I have ever met a person as cunning and as ambitious as you. You wear so many faces and seem to have so many secrets, I just hope one day you will share a couple of them with me." She sighed.
Harry did not say a word for almost a minute. The two teens were making their way back down to the grounds now.
"You are right, I should have been a Slytherin, but for very specific reasons, I asked the hat not to put me in that house."
"Even further proof that you are wearing the wrong colors right now, I always thought green fit you better anyways." Fleur gave him a mischievous smile.
Harry caught the reference to his eyes, but had a couple of questions himself:
"What about you? Which house do you think you would be sorted into if you attend Hogwarts?"
"I have a suspicion, but tell me what you think," Fleur replied.
"It's very similar to my situation, I guess. You are certainly brave and proved it by standing with me against those Death Eaters. You knew what they might do to a young woman like yourself and you still decided to confront them.
You are fiercely loyal and I think you'd do anything for your family, especially your sister. I know you are ambitious, but I don't think you would be ruthless enough for Slytherin. I'd say Ravenclaw would fit you the most, unless there is a house that values beauty over anything else, of course." Harry added cheekily.
Fleur actually blushed a little at Harry's complement and let out her melodic laughter: "You are a charmer, Harry. The girls at Hogwarts should be very careful with you, who knows how many innocent hearts you will break soon enough."
They continued their tour and Harry showed her the grounds around the Castle, including Hagrid's Hut, the Quidditch Stadium, Forbidden Forest, and finally the Whomping Willow, where he told her the story of how he met Sirius for the first time.
Around lunch, the two returned to the Great Hall for a snack, before Fleur took her leave. It was her OWL year and even while competing in the tournament, she would be taking them at the beginning of summer back in France. Harry decided to return to the Chamber and prepare everything for his ritual tonight.
The Healing-Ritual would allow him to recover much quicker from physical, magical, and mental injuries or exhaustion. For example, future physical wounds will heal better and his magical core would replenish quicker after draining it. In addition, Harry would receive a light immunity to most poisons and venoms.
Among the necessary materials were a vial of Basilisk Venom and almost half a liter of his blood to have an adequate amount of phoenix tears. Also, different venoms, including from an Acromantula, a Chimera, and a Manticore. Everything was prepared so far.
For the next couple of hours, Harry decided to do some research on the Tournament. Chances were, he would be competing at the end of the day. From what he read so far, it was just as Dumbledore had said: The death toll rose too high but before that, the tasks included a variety of magical challenges, treasure hunts, hostage rescues, and fighting off magical beasts.
It was almost a given that Fleur would be competing for her school. As for Dumstrang, Harry guessed that Krum might be the Champion, but a couple of the Dumstrang boys seemed just as determined to claim the honor and Harry remembered them from the Tournament in Moscow.
As for the Hogwarts Champion, Harry knew that even most of the seventh-years did not have the drive and skill to compete in this tournament. Cedric Diggory, a sixth-year Seeker was a gifted student in many subjects. He was the epitome of a Hufflepuff, but would that be enough to be successful in this tournament?
Other than that, there was also Roger Davis from Ravenclaw, Cassius Warrington from Slytherin, and Angelina Johnson from Gryfindor that stood out as the most promising names. Of course, many of the seventh-years had entered their name as well, but Harry did not know of anyone remarkable. It would truly be up to the Goblet to decide then.
When it was about time to get to the Great Hall, Harry made a stop at his dorm and changed into a new uniform. His appearance should be on point tonight. He hid the Marauder's map and Cloak in his robes as well. Crouch and Moody would be in the same room tonight and Harry needed to keep an eye on both of them.
When he entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Harry took his seats next to Fleur, who gave him a radiant smile. She seemed very excited. The stab of guilt again prevented Harry's smile from fully reaching his eyes. Instead, he just gave Fleur a thumbs up and concentrated on his food.
Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Harry simply wanted the plates to clear and to get his announcement over with.
At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Karkaroff and Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.
"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber-" he indicated the door behind the staff table: "-where they will be receiving their first instructions."
He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. A few people kept checking their watches.
The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."
"No surprises there," Fleur whispered in his ear, as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.
"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
"Go get them, firebird," Harry whispered and squeezed Fleur's hand underneath the table. Fleur's allure was running wild, but she pulled herself together, got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
When Fleur too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion was next. The Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip, Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"
Oh well, it did not really matter, Harry thought. Between himself, Fleur and Krum, Diggory was hopelessly outmatched. The table next to him seemed to think differently, every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table.
Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again. "Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down.
"Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-"
But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.
Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. Harry's name. Harry prepared himself to look as perplexed and shocked as possible and pulled up his Occlumency shields. He needed to remain calm now.
There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out:
"Harry Potter."
Harry felt every eye in the entire hall on him and sighed. He put on his best perplexed or confused expressions and stared at Dumbledore and the familiar piece of parchment in his hands. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.
Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.
"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"
"Go on," Terry whispered from across from him. Harry got to his feet, stood upright to his full height, and strode along the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. He imagined Sirius's expression and what his Godfather would think about this 'prank'. A chuckle almost slipped his lips, as he continued his way towards Dumbledore.
The whisperers around him grew louder and the first yells erupted through the Hall.
"He is not even 17, yet!" Someone yelled from the Gryffindor table.
"Cheater!" A seventh-year Hufflepuff yelled.
"You're a fraud, Potter!"
Harry ignored them all as he was finally right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stare of all the teachers upon him. "Well, through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.
Harry walked to the side chamber Dumbledore gestured to and entered the room. Krum, Diggory, and Fleur all stood around the fireplace. Harry avoided Fleur's confused expression and leaned against the wall, waiting for the inevitable.
Fleur slowly walked over to him:
"Harry, what's going on? What are you doing here?"
Harry tried to meet her gaze and whispered: "I'll explain later."
Just then Bagman entered the room, walked up to Harry, and looked like he wanted to grab his arm, but Harry was quicker. With a flick of his wrist, his wand was in his hand pointed at the face of the former Quidditch player:
"Please keep your hands to yourself, Bagman," Harry spoke calmly, but his eyes flashed an emerald green.
"Of course, Harry. My apologies, it's just so extraordinary!" he muttered. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen, my lady," he added, approaching the fire-side and addressing the other three.
"May I introduce, incredible though it may seem, the fourth Triwizard champion?"
Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Fleur, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, very funny joke, Meester Bagman."
It was perhaps the first time Harry had heard her speaking English. Her accent was stronger than he had thought. He involuntarily chuckled, only making his situation worse.
Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"
Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. " 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."
"Well, it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage, it's down in the rules, you're obliged to… Harry will just have to do the best he-"
At this moment the door opened again and Dumbledore stormed into the room, rushing towards Harry. Once again, his wand was in his hand within less than a second, keeping the Headmaster at bay:
"Please calm yourself, Headmaster," Harry said coldly, his wand still in his hand.
Dumbledore frowned:
"Harry, did you put your name into the Goblet?"
"No, Sir."
"Did you ask an older student to put your name in?"
"No, Sir"
"Well, of course, he is lying, Dumbledore! Hogwarts can't have two champions, it is extremely unfair." Karkaroff interfered.
"Are you calling me a liar?" Harry spoke very quietly and calmly, but everyone could hear him. It felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees.
"Well, considering your track record, Mr. Potter. I would not trust anything you say!" Karkaroff spit.
"Funny, that you mention a track record. Have you received any invitations to the funerals of your Death Eater buddies recently? Just give me a reason and I will put you six feet under like your former master and anyone else, who carries his mark." Harry hissed.
"Mr. Potter, you will not threaten the head of a foreign school!" McGonagall interfered. "Treat our guests with respect or you will receive detentions with me."
Harry looked from McGonagall back to Karkaroff. "There is no respect for Death Eaters, there is also no mercy," Harry added dangerously.
"I am coming for you!" He hissed in Parseltongue and enjoyed the scared expression on the man's face
"That is enough Mr. Potter. Whether you have entered yourself or not is irrelevant now. The question is how do we continue?" Dumbledore tried to break up the fight.
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half-hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half-darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance.
When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."
"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.
"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed.
"You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."
"Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out and it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"
"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"
"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"
Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk.
"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."
Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.
"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."
"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.
"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"
"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but the funny thing is I don't hear him saying a word..."
"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur, stamping her foot. " 'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e?" The look she gave him was colder than he could have ever imagined. The betrayal and the hurt were very evident in her eyes.
"Fleur… please," Harry whispered desperately.
"I thought you were different, Harry Potter." With that Fleur took her leave and stomped out of the room. Followed by Madame Maxime, who shot Harry a disdainful look.
"Well, shall we crack on, then?" Bagman said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"
Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie. "Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes, the first task…"
He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin papery look about his wrinkled skin. Was it a side effect from using Polyjuice?
"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard, very important…
"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. "The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament.
The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."
Krum just nodded, shot one last glare at Harry, and exited the chamber.
"Professor Karkaroff - Barty - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore. But none of them seemed to be in the mood to remain any longer.
"Very well," Dumbledore sighed.
"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them.
"I am sure Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
"Actually, I am down for a nightcap, Professor." Harry smiled.
"Follow me to my office then, Harry."
Harry could feel Cedric's stare in his back, but ignored the other boy and followed Dumbledore out of the chamber. The two wizards made their way to the Headmaster's office and Harry took a seat as soon as Dumbledore sat down.
"How can I help you, Harry?"
"I would like to have the same rights as any other student that is of age. Including leaving for the weekends and an adjusted curfew, for example."
"And why should I grant that to a fourteen-year-old, or is it fifteen already? I can't tell." Dumbledore smiled.
So he knows about the time turner, how did he find out? Was it just my physical appearance?
"As you well know it's still just fourteen, Headmaster. However, magically that might have changed roughly an hour ago." Harry smiled.
"Well done, Harry. I am impressed. You entered into a binding magical contract with a powerful artifact that only an adult should have been able to enter into. Therefore magic automatically emancipated you. Was that your sole reason for entering your name? Just to get some extra privileges around Hogwarts?"
"I did not enter my name myself, Headmaster, but I will certainly enjoy the benefits of the precarious situation I have been thrown into. Tomorrow morning I will be leaving for Gringotts to have it confirmed that I am emancipated and have the trace removed from me. I will also visit the Potter family vaults."
"Your shields are powerful, Harry, but are you really naive enough to believe yourself capable of withstanding a full attack on your mind by me?" Dumbledore asked.
"Are you threatening me, Headmaster?" Harry replied coldly.
"No, I am simply stating the fact that you know more about how your name appeared in the Goblet than you let on. Your interaction with Ms. Delacour was all I needed to observe, to verify that."
"Fleur will take some time to calm down, but she will come around, I am certain of that."
"Very well, is there anything else, Harry?" Dumbledore asked his student.
Harry chuckled: "Usually it's me asking that question, Professor, but yes, there is one more thing. Diggory has been chosen by the Goblet as the Hogwarts Champion. I respect that. My name was submitted without the mention of a school, certainly not Hogwarts."
Dumbledore frowned. "But you are still a student at this school, Harry. A remarkable member of House Ravenclaw."
Harry laughed: "I think we both know that I am being banished from House Ravenclaw just as we speak. No Professor, I will represent myself in the tournament. Therefore, I will make an official inquiry to have a judge of my liking added to the existing panel, as well. My godfather will make a fine addition, don't you think?"
"It saddens me to not have you representing Hogwarts, but I see no fault in your logic. I will deliver your inquiry to Mr. Crouch. So, you will be representing House Potter?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
Harry laughed: "No, Professor, I will be representing a different House, much older, but I am sure you have heard of it. After all, our ancestors rest peacefully, side by side, in the very same graveyard in Godric's Hollow."
Dumbledore was at a loss for words. He must have understood the reference to the Peverell family then.
"Have a good night, Professor." Harry excused himself politely.
"Good night, my boy," Dumbledore watched as his student left his office. The boy had figured it out, much sooner than he had hoped. Now he could only pray that Harry would not repeat his mistakes.
Chapter 33: Weighting Of The Wands
AN: This chapter was really fun to write.
I hope you guys enjoy it just as much!
Chapter 33
Harry left Dumbledore's office feeling relieved. The Headmaster had granted his two requests and tomorrow he would be visiting Gringotts and the Ministry. Now, he had Sirius to inform and a ritual to complete.
He pulled out the Marauder's map to check the empty halls. Apparently, things just got better and better. Down in the Great Hall, all the teachers stood together, apart from Moody, who was still in his office, meaning Crouch had been using Polyjuice again.
Harry frowned, how was that possible? Moody and Crouch had just been in the same room together, next to the Great Hall, together with him, and the other champions.
Harry's question was answered when he noticed something on the map. No… it couldn't be? But he remembered Sirius' words: The Map never lies…
The name Bartemius Crouch appeared twice, very close, almost next to each other. Father and son, Mr. Crouch had not been impersonating Moody, but his son, who the wizarding world thought dead. How did his son escape Azkaban?
Things just kept getting more and more complicated, but at least he had another clue now. Barty Crouch Junior had been a Death Eater. This entire plot just screamed Voldemort to Harry.
What was the goal? If Voldemort wanted him dead, he could have easily tasked Crouch junior to kill him in a DADA session. Did he need Harry for something?
Harry arrived in Salazar Quarters and briefed the Founder on everything that had just happened.
"Very well, the Confundo of the imposter worked and you are officially competing. Being emancipated and losing the trace is another added bonus. I am glad you put this Karkaroff in his place. You are my heir and you don't let anyone call you a liar. How did things with the Veela turn out?"
Harry cringed at the memory of Fleur and her hurt look: "I wasn't shot at with fireballs, so that's good, but it also could have gone a lot better. I will try to mend the bridge over the next couple of days. Perhaps she just needs some time right now."
"Well, you have more than enough to do, anyways. Start the ritual and brief your godfather as soon as you are done."
Harry nodded, gathered up all the materials and ingredients, and started carving the runes. Everything went smoothly and Harry mitigated the loss of blood with a blood replenishment potion right after. Let's see if Sirius was still awake:
"Sirius Black?" Harry spoke into the mirror.
"Harry? How are you and how did the announcement of the Champions go? I hope Hogwarts will be represented well."
Harry couldn't help himself, he started laughing.
"Oh no, this can't be good. Tell me what happened." Sirius frowned, so Harry started telling him everything.
From how he caught the imposter Crouch putting his name in the Goblet, him being chosen as the fourth Champion, to his confrontation with Karkaroff and the final talk with Dumbledore.
"Well, Harry, I was impressed after the prank you pulled on the Slytherins, but pranking the entire magical European community?" Don't you think that went a little too far?" Sirius laughed.
"Jokes aside, it's good that we know who put your name in. You are right, the immediate goal is not to kill you, therefore, we will have to be even more careful. How about I join you at Gringotts tomorrow and then we get the removal of the Trace confirmed at the Ministry together? I can't imagine Hogwarts being the most pleasant place for you right now, anyways."
"Sounds good to me. Meet me at the steps in front of the Bank tomorrow at 10 sharp." Harry says.
"How will you get there? Is a teacher taking you?"
Harry just grinned: "Curiosity killed the cat, or the dog, I should say. You will see it tomorrow, Sirius. Good night."
November 1st, 1994
Harry felt great. He had a full night of sleep after using the time turner and had just finished his workout in the ROR. He started adding some muscle-hypertrophy exercises to his already athletic workout and really enjoyed the progress he had made with the weights so far.
After taking a quick shower, he made his way downstairs to the Great Hall for some breakfast. The Great Hall was silent when he entered. Every eye was on him. At this point, Harry was so used to the attention that he simply ignored the other students and sat down at his usual seat.
A couple of upper-year Ravenclaws walked up to him, led by Roger Davies:
"House Ravenclaw doesn't cheat, Potter. Not in academics and not in a tournament."
"I did not steal your spot, Davies. If you want to complain that you have not been made Hogwarts Champion, complain to Diggory. My name was not put in under any school." Harry rolled his eyes and continued eating.
"I don't care how your name came out of the Goblet, Potter. The fact that it did come out, even though you're only 14, is proof enough for us. House Ravenclaw does not want you sitting at its table." Roger Davies replied angrily.
Harry looked up at him: "What are you gonna do, Davies? Make me leave? I'd love to see you try it."
"One day you will get what's coming for you, Potter. Icarus flew too close to the sun, just like you." The sixth-year prophesied.
"Thanks for the poetry lesson, now piss off, please. I've got better things to do."
Roger sneered and went back to his seat. Just then Fleur Delacour entered the Great Hall and saw Harry sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Her gaze hardened and she took a seat next to a drooling Davies instead of Harry.
"Mr. Davies, I can call you Roger, non? Would you mind giving moi a tour of 'ogwarts, today? I received a brief tour yesterday already, but it was not satisfactory, qui?"
Davies had not stopped staring at Fleur's décolleté, but the Veela did not seem to mind. Harry had heard enough. That was low, even for Fleur:
"Dobby!"
The elf appeared with a POP.
"I'd like to finish my meal in the kitchen, please."
The elf nodded, grabbed Harry's hand and the two disappeared from the Great Hall. After his meal, Harry went down into the Chamber to wait until it was time to meet Sirius.
"Stupid, stuck-up French witch. What is she thinking? Trying to make me jealous with an idiot like Davies…" Harry busted into the Founder's Quarters. "The idiot could not even exchange two words with her… let alone give a tour."
"Are you okay, Harry? You seem a bit uhh... stressed." Salazar raised an eyebrow.
"It's nothing I should actually worry about, Sal… just unnecessary drama. Let me release some built-up energy in the main chamber, really quick. I will see you later, today."
The portrait just shook its head and chuckled. Harry went back into the main Chamber and cast spell after spell against one of the large stone walls until he felt better. That was exactly what he needed. He checked his watch. 9.59 am, it was time for the first long-distance apparition of his life.
He focused and imagined the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley, the chatter of customers, and the bright white marble building… Then he took a step forward.
He vanished in an instant and experienced the familiar feeling of being pressed through a tight tube. Then he reappeared with POP in front of the Wizarding Bank.
Sirius let out a yelp and dropped his Muggle coffee-to-go at the sight of his godson appearing out of thin air:
"Since when can you apparate, holy shit, that's amazing!"
"A couple of weeks, actually," Harry replied before leading his Godfather into the Bank.
"I would like to speak to my Account Manager, Ragnok, please." Harry approached the teller and waited for a minute before a goblin guided them to the familiar office. After exchanging greetings Raknok spoke up.
"I expected a visit from you over the next couple of days, Mr. Potter. The most interesting thing happened last night, as I am sure you know. For some reason, you have been emancipated. Care to enlighten me?"
Harry explained the situation to the Goblin, who gave him a grin as soon as he was finished:
"Well, this changes a couple of things, Mr. Potter. First of all, you now have access to your family vault and all its contents. You also have the option to fuse your two faults, to mitigate any future complications regarding transactions and investments.
In addition, I am now allowed to tell you the monetary value of the assets in your family vault. Unfortunately, I must tell you, that the majority of your assets have been spent during the last war. You still hold a minority share in a couple of wizarding businesses. The total number of Galleons in your family fault as of now is around 10.000."
Harry and Sirius gulped simultaneously. Maybe winning the Triwizard tournament and adding another 1000 Galleons wouldn't be such a bad idea. When converted into Muggle currency, he still owed over half a million pounds of cash in total. However, he had hoped it might be a bit more.
The goblin continued: "Combining all your assets from both vaults and adding the current value of any investment, you are currently in possession of roughly 20.000 Galleons."
"Very well, take another 5000 Galleons from the family fault and invest it in additional muggle businesses. The same criteria apply as previously. I will visit the Potter Vault at another time. That will be all for today."
Harry and Sirius took their leave and made their way out of the bank.
"Don't worry, Harry with the Black fortune and my compensation for Azkaban, you will still be able to live a comfortable life," Sirius joked.
"I am not worried about that, Sirius. I still have some hidden reserves that I have not touched upon yet." Harry replied, thinking about the dead Basilisk.
"Alright then, let's go to the Leaky Cauldron and take the Floo to the ministry," Sirius suggested.
A couple of minutes later, the two stood in the large foyer of the British Ministry of Magic and searched their way to the office of Improper use of Magic. A Mafalda Hopkirk greeted them and after explaining the situation and letting her check her own records, Harry's status was updated to a magical and legal adult.
Apparently, the trace had been removed automatically as soon as Harry's name came out of the Goblet last night. However, an Unspeakable was quickly called to confirm it. Finally, Harry could do magic outside of school with no consequence.
November 13th, 1994
The last two weeks had been just like his second year. People had started whispering wherever he went and calling him names. After two seventh-year Slytherins needed to stay in the Hospital-Wing, due to some serious injuries, the open name-calling stopped. Instead, Draco Malfoy had invented some fancy badges in support of Cedric Diggory, the 'True Hogwarts Champion'.
Harry simply replied that he agreed with Malfoy, he was not a Hogwarts Champion, apparently, he was not even a student here anymore. The Ravenclaws had voted him out of their house. And demanded that Harry would no longer eat at the Ravenclaw table. They tried to break into his trunk and destroy some of his personal items, but the Parseltongue wards on it quickly stopped their attempt with extreme prejudice.
They confronted Harry in the Great Hall and announced that Harry was officially no longer a member of their House. Harry simply ripped the House Crest from his school uniform and transfigured the robes into a deep ethereal black, making him look like Snape.
Flitwick was outraged, took 200 points from his own house, and assigned detention to everyone that voted to kick Harry out. Only two people had been spared. His mate Terry and Luna Lovegood, a third-year.
As he was no longer welcome at the Ravenclaw Table, Harry took his meals in the Chamber or the ROR. As a Champion, he was allowed to skip his classes and he used that privilege for Potions, Astronomy, and History of Magic. At least the teachers stopped the other students from harassing Harry in the classes he now still attended.
The time in the ROR was spent practicing for the first task. With the help of Dobby and Sirius, Harry analyzed the past tasks in order to find a pattern. He was successful, and found out that the champions had to face a dangerous magical beast and either beat it or finish a task that involved it.
Harry told Dobby to keep an eye open around Hogwarts and immediately tell him, as soon as he found anything that involved dangerous magical beasts. He was confident that the elf would not let him down.
Fleur Delacour had not spoken to him at all over the last two weeks. She now ate the majority of her meals in her carriage. At least she had stopped her petty attempts at angering Harry and making him jealous, but Harry still missed her. He had been looking forward to finally spending time with her and now, when they could actually get to know one another better, they were not talking.
Today was the weighting of the wands. An integral tradition of the Triwizard Tournament and Harry's first public outing as the last Peverell. His outfit was prepared. It was heavily influenced by what his reflection in the Mirror of Erised had worn. The dark gray robes looked formal, yet stylish and athletic. His dragonhide boots were freshly polished by Dobby. He had also tasked the elf with crafting the Peverell emblem and knitting it to his chest.
The black triangle representing the Stone, with the straight vertical line in the middle, representing the Wand, and the surrounding circle, representing the Cloak were beautifully knitted into a light gray background.
Now, he was ready for the Ceremony. Since he had skipped potions, he made his way straight to the unoccupied classroom room, where it would take place. He was the first to enter and conjured himself a squishy armchair to rest in. After a minute the first people arrived, starting with Diggory, Dumbledore, Bagman, and Crouch.
The latter two simply greeted Harry, whereas Dumbledore stared intensely at the crest on Harry's chest. Harry gave the Headmaster a challenging look. Dumbledore seemed to snap out of his trance and stood next to the other judges, keeping an eye on Harry.
Soon after Sirius arrived, followed by a reporter and her cameraman: "Merlin, Pup, you keep on growing, soon you will be taller than me," Sirius laughed, as he pulled Harry into a tight hug.
Next up, Fleur arrived, followed by Madame Maxime and Mr. Ollivander. Harry gave the old Wandmaker a genuine smile. Fleur still avoided eye contact with him, making Harry experience an unfamiliar pain, he would try to talk to her today, no matter what.
Finally, Karkaroff arrived followed by Krum. The former simply shot Harry a nasty glare, but when Krum eyed the occupants of the room and found Harry, his gaze moved down to his chest and he pulled out his wand.
Harry instantly flicked his own wand into his hand, as Krum approached him, his face distorted in anger:
"How dare you wear dat sign! Take eet off right now!"
"Gentlemen, what is the meaning of this?" Bagman tried to interfere, but Harry stopped the man:
"Stay out of this, Bagman. Let Mr. Krum speak his mind." Harry gave the Bulgarian a cold smile.
"Mr. Krum, Mr. Potter, please lower your wands, right now. There is no need for violence." Dumbledore spoke up.
"Take off ze Crest, Potter. Or zings will get ugly for you!" The Bulgarian spat.
Harry shook his head: " I don't think I will, you can always try to make me…"
Krum raised his wand higher, a spell on his lips when a bright silver shield was conjured between the two. Dumbledore had pulled his wand and separated the two Champions the only way possible:
"Igor, please calm your Champion, otherwise I am afraid I can't allow him to remain in the room."
"Potter iz wearing ze Crest of a murderer!" Krum growled. "Zat iz the sign of Grindelwald… he carved it magically into a wall at Durmstrang! Ze man murdered my grandfazzer. I want him to remove ze crest!" Krum spat enraged.
Harry noticed Dumbledore frown at the mention between Grindelwald and the sign of the Hallows. What was that all about? He smiled coldly: "I will never put down this Crest, not for you and not for anyone else. Stop acting like a rabbid dog and behave yourself already, you are a guest here."
Krum's eyes almost bulged out of his head: "I challenge you to an honor duel!"
"Harry, no!" Dumbledore yelled to stop him.
"I accept your challenge! After dinner, on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, wands only, and every course is allowed." Harry calmly accepted.
"You are way out of your league, little boy" Krum gave a cold laugh.
"Go ask your fellow schoolmates how it felt after I wiped the floor with them. This isn't some Quidditch game, where the worst that could happen is a few broken bones. I am the Under-18 dueling champion and this will almost certainly be a painful experience for you." Harry smiled at the older boy.
"Is that really necessary? You both have a Task to prepare for. Mr. Krum, can you please retract the challenge," Dumbledore almost begged.
"Never! Ze boy will learn a lesson, da."
"We will see about that," Harry replied neutrally before turning to Sirius.
"From what I have heard, he is not a bad dueler, but nothing compared to what you have faced already. He was all talk and was hoping you would not accept. Teach him and that slimy Headmaster of his, a lesson." Sirius whispered in his ear.
Harry took in the people in the room once more. Krum was still seething and talking to Kaarkaroff in quick Russian. It seemed as if even his Headmaster was not in favor of their upcoming duel. Fleur was eyeing him and the Crest on his chest with a look of curiosity. As soon as Harry met her gaze, she quickly looked back to Dumbledore.
The reporter, who Harry could now identify as Rita Skeeter, had been taking notes during his and Krum's small confrontation and seemed like she couldn't wait to publish her article about it.
Meanwhile, Dumbeldore had introduced Ollivander to the assembled witches and wizards.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room. Fleur swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmmm... " he said. He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.
"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches and inflexible, rosewood, and containing... dear me..."
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a Veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."
"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used Veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands. However, to each their own, and if this suits you…"
Harry had to grin at that. 'Temperamental' luckily, Fleur did not catch him doing so. He was trying to mend bridges after all. Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Olli-vander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand.
"Mr. Diggory, you next."
Fleur gracefully moved back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her. Harry rolled his eyes. Really, Fleur?
"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand.
"Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches, ash, pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition... Do you treat it regularly?"
"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning, which made Sirius and Harry chuckle. Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said,
"Mr. Krum, if you please." Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes. He looked like an overgrown child who did not get what he wanted.
"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken?"
At that, Harry paid close attention. Gregorovitch was the wandmaker that had found the Elder Wand over half a century ago and studied its features.
"A fine wandmaker, though the styling is never quite what I... However..." He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes. "Yes, hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded.
"Rather thicker than one usually sees, quite rigid, ten and a quarter inches... Avis!"
The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight. "Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand.
"Which leaves… Mr. Potter."
Harry smiled at the wandmaker, as he flicked his wand back into his palm and spun it around his fingers. To the surprise of everyone else, Ollivander pulled out a pair of dragonhide gloves:
"Just a precaution, everyone, no need to worry. Let's just say that Mr. Potter has some very special ingredients in his wand."
He gave Harry a knowing grin and Harry was glad that the wandmaker did not reveal the exact ingredients to anyone in the room. He could already feel the eyes of every champion, their Headmasters, and the jury on him.
"Oh yes, how well I remember. Quite a difficult customer, a handcrafted wand, therefore. Ancient Elder and Redwood, a volatile combination, but with the right core. Hair of Thestral and of course some rather complex runes work to stabilize the combination. A wand, unlike anything I have ever crafted before. Powerful..."
"Is a wand like dat even allowed in the tournament, Dumbly-dorr?" Madame Maxime frowned.
"It is a wand, like any other. Although I am sure Harry holds it in very high regards." Dumbledore replied while Mr. Crouch simply nodded his approval.
"It is in excellent condition, Mr. Potter. It's bond to you is stronger than ever before." Ollivander added.
"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now, or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end-"
Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat.
"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"
"Er- yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again. "And then perhaps some individual shots."
The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually, she had to sit while everyone else stood around her.
Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group.
The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita preferred Harry. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. And a couple of very awkward shots with only Harry and Fleur. At last, they were free to go.
Madame Maxime and Fleur were about to leave when Harry called her:
"Fleur… a word, please," Harry asked in French.
Fleur turned around and looked him deep into the eyes. Madame Maxime tried to pull her away, but Fleur stood still and gave him a short nod:
"Fine. Follow me."
"Remember Krum, after dinner," Harry told the Bulgarian and nodded to Sirius. Then he did as he was told and followed the Veela out of the room. They walked down a corridor.
"Do you have a place where we can talk?" Fleur asked him.
"I do," Harry replied, this was his chance to show her something he had not shown anyone before. His chance to share at least one of his secrets.
He led her up to the seventh floor in front of the blank wall of the ROR:
"This is going to sound weird, but please just trust me okay?"
At Fleur's nod, he continued: "Walk along this wall three times and imagine a room you would like to talk in. Clearly imagine as many details as you can remember and ask for that specific room three times while walking up and down this piece of wall… Can you do that for me?"
Fleur eyed Harry suspiciously, but could not detect any bad intentions in his demeanor. She approached the wall, closed her eyes, and began walking up and down. After the last turn, a door appeared.
"Open it." Harry smiled and gestured for the door. Fleur grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. The inside was a very well decorated room, with tall white painted walls. A large bed and wardrobe stood at one side and a long window that led to a small balcony. From the balcony, one could oversee a beautiful garden and the faint outline of the sea or lake. Was this Fleur's room in France?
Fleur looked like she couldn't believe her eyes. She walked around the room and touched the wooden frame of the bed, her desk, chair, and even opened the glass door to the balcony. She turned back to Harry with bright gleaming eyes:
"What kind of magic is this?" She whispered.
"This is the Room of Requirements. It was created by Rowena Ravenclaw, the founder of my hou-, well, my former house. It projects an illusion of exactly the kind of room you imagine. It can provide almost everything, you only have to wish for it. Right now, you are in control, just imagine any item you would like to see." Harry explained from the door.
Fleur closed her eyes briefly and held out her hands expectantly. Out of thin air, a picture frame appeared in her hands, showing two platinum blonde girls eating ice cream in front of the Eiffel Tower… Fleur and Gabby. She stared at the picture in amazement before placing it on her night table. Then she turned around and slowly walked to Harry.
She threw her arms around him and Harry pulled her into an impossibly tight hug, feeling her entire body pressed against his. Fleur let out a deep sight and Harry knew exactly that she had missed him just as much as he had missed her.
"Thank you, Harry… for sharing this room with me." She whispered in his ear and loosened her hold on him.
She took a couple of steps backward and took another look at her surroundings:
"How many people know about this room? It must be a well-kept secret, otherwise, it would be constantly occupied." Fleur guessed.
"Most people just stumble upon it once, but never find it again. I had a little help myself when finding it. I wanted to share something special with you." Harry added.
Fleur sat down on her bed and gestured for Harry to join her. At his raised eyebrow, she simply hushed and started blushing. She looked incredibly cute.
"Thank you, Harry, but I am still very disappointed in you for not telling me that you entered yourself." Fleur began the inevitable talk.
Harry sighed: "Fleur, I know this sounds unbelievable, but I promise you that I did not enter my name myself."
"So someone entered your name against your wishes?" Fleur asked him.
"Yes, actually no, not really, I kind of let him enter my name but- Ugh it is just so complicated and I really wish I could tell you, but I don't know how much I can trust you, yet…
I wanted to enter myself and I was about to, but then someone interfered, but he did not enter my name for good reasons… There are people in this Castle that wish to see me dead."
Fleur looked at him for almost a minute: "I wish you could tell me everything, Harry, but I understand your position. You don't know who to trust and the entire Castle is against you right now."
"Exactly!" Harry nodded: "I am so glad you understand."
Fleur held a finger to his lips to silence him: "But that does not mean that my anger at you simply disappears. I was looking forward to coming here, to compete and to see you again. With you not entering, that meant that I could finally spend time with you without being competitors and facing each other in some arena.
It looked like you simply lied to me and betrayed our tentative friendship. I was so hurt and angry at you…"
"I know and I am really sorry, Fleur. I will try to keep fewer secrets from you and allow you to get to know the real me, but it's not going to be easy, there is so much stuff that you don't know yet, things you could not even imagine…" Harry whispered.
"Like your wand? Or that Crest on your chest?" Fleur whispered and a shiver went through Harry's spine as she trailed the sign of the Hallow's with a long slender finger.
Harry chuckled: "Yes, those two, for example."
"It's okay, we can take things slowly. The fact that you showed me this room is a huge improvement already, non? What do you usually use it for?" Fleur asked curiously.
"I can show you," Harry explained: "Just give me command."
Fleur seemed to understand, as she closed her eyes. A couple of seconds later, Harry felt the room starting to obey his wishes and he imagined the gym he had built together, including the dueling area. He also imagined his small library, the table for his meals, and the separate showers.
Fleur opened her eyes and turned around herself once, taking in the entire room: "This is where you train?" She asked.
Harry nodded: "Pretty much every morning."
Fleur let her eyes roam over his body from head to toe: "I've noticed, you are certainly not a little boy anymore, Harry. Sometimes I can't believe you are only 14, you certainly look older."
Harry visibly cringed: "Yeah, about that."
Fleur rolled her eyes and let out her melodic laughter: "Let me guess, another secret"
"A couple of secrets actually, but let's head down for dinner. I still have a match to win tonight." Harry grinned.
"You seem very confident that you can take him, Harry. Is there anything I should know about?" Fleur smirked at him.
Harry flashed her a smile and helped her up from the chair she was sitting in: "Let's just say that I experienced a sudden spike in motivation and I now have an amazing cheerleader."