Chapter 319. Advising Professor
After learning that Adrian Wesson could sense the trace of the Imperius Curse, Barty Crouch, thinking of his own safety, asked one thing of him: that Wesson check on him at intervals, to make sure he wouldn't fall under the Imperius again.
Wesson agreed.
It wasn't any trouble; he only had to have the Tree of Wisdom give him a quick once-over.
And he could earn a favour into the bargain—why not?
Of course, if one wanted to throw off the Imperius altogether, there would be a small price to pay.
His potions were not cheap.
Barty Crouch soon left the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.
"The Imperius Curse," Dumbledore sighed softly. "One of the most intractable Dark spells."
There's a reason the Imperius is one of the three Unforgivable Curses; a fully cast Imperius can turn a person into another's puppet and inflict irreversible damage on the brain.
What Barty Crouch had suffered was only the mildest form.
Then Dumbledore, curious, asked, "What potion did you just give Mr Crouch?"
"I call it the Purifying Potion," Wesson said with a shake of his head. "In truth, it may not be as miraculous as you imagine. It can only treat the very mildest kind of Imperius. If we'd been two days later, I'm afraid it wouldn't have worked on Mr Crouch."
Dumbledore looked thoughtful.
"That is already astonishing," he said, offhandedly. "If you were willing to publish the formula for this potion, you could at least secure an Order of Merlin. You could even find ways to obtain wealth enough for a lifetime."
"I'm not short of money," Wesson said, frowning, "and I cannot disclose the recipe for this potion… of course, the reasons are a bit complicated…"
"Ah, I'm only speaking idly. You've no need to explain yourself to me, Wesson," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I cannot govern your mind. What is yours, you may do with as you please."
Wesson shrugged.
There was no question of disclosing the Purifying Potion—because its principal ingredient, an apple with purifying properties, likely existed only in his possession in this world.
If the formula were leaked, there'd be no telling how many witches and wizards would set their sights on him.
After all, the potion's effects were simply too formidable.
"By the way, there's one more matter," Dumbledore said suddenly, sitting back down in his chair. "Professor Wesson, I would like to appoint you as the Advising Professor for the Hogwarts champion."
"Advising Professor?" Wesson raised a brow. "What is that?"
"Put simply," Dumbledore smiled, "you will help our champion make full preparations for the Triwizard Tournament—so that he may win. I believe you can do it."
Wesson folded his arms, leaned back in the armchair in the Headmaster's office, and regarded Dumbledore, thoughtful.
"All right, I accept," he said. "Of course, I have one very important question."
"What is it?" Dumbledore leaned forward slightly.
"About my bonus—"
»
25 November.
The day after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.
In the morning, the Great Hall at Hogwarts was full of cheerful bustle.
Though Cedric was a few points behind for the moment,
Harry—the unexpected champion—had scored a high forty-six points, five clear of Fleur in second.
For the students of Hogwarts, this was, without doubt, exhilarating news.
Colin Creevey, founder of the Harry fan club, had taken quite a few photos during the task for everyone to pass around. At some point he had upgraded his kit—those photos were now moving, magical photographs.
"Brilliant, Harry!"
"Give us an autograph!"
In the midst of the crowding and fuss, Harry reached the Gryffindor table.
He was already half-regretting it—he should have come later.
Look at these fanatics!
They had nearly devoured him whole.
He couldn't help finding it absurd—just a few days ago, some of these very people had been wearing "POTTER STINKS" badges, yet now their attitude was as if they were different people altogether.
Oh, right.
Harry turned his gaze towards the Slytherin table.
He wanted to see Malfoy's face.
If he had to name the person who least wished him well, that person would undoubtedly be Draco Malfoy.
Unfortunately, after a glance round, he didn't spot that detestable figure.
Or perhaps there were simply too many people around, blocking his view.
"All right, back to your seats! We have guests—don't let them see you making such a racket!"
The voice was so familiar to Harry—Professor McGonagall.
Everyone instantly scattered away from him.
Having come closer, Professor McGonagall gave Harry an encouraging look, then returned to the staff table.
"You're really popular now," Ron said sourly at his side.
"Looks like you're jealous," Harry said with a grin.
"I'm not!" Ron shot back, then sighed. "All right, maybe a bit. We started school the same year, but I couldn't possibly handle a dragon."
"You only lack a bit of training," Harry said around a mouthful of steak. "If you're willing to spend your free time on spell practice, while I can't promise you'd be able to take on a dragon, at least—"
"…at least you could beat Malfoy."
"Malfoy's nothing to fear!" Ron said at once.
It wasn't as if he hadn't fought Malfoy before—the Slug-Vomiting Charm still haunted him to this day.
"Malfoy knows plenty of nasty jinxes," Harry said under his breath. "His dad used to be a Death Eater; I'm sure he taught him a lot of terrifying magic."
Ron shivered.
"How should I train?" he asked quickly.
"You could ask Professor Wesson," Harry said with a shrug. "My training programme is all his design. I'm not sure it would suit you."
Hearing this, Ron nodded seriously.
"I suppose I should give it a try," he said.
At that moment, Hermione sat down next to Ron.
"What are you two talking about?" she asked, curious.
"We were—"
Harry had just opened his mouth when Ron clapped a hand over it.
"Nothing," Ron said. "We were talking about the Golden Egg."
"?"
Harry looked at Ron, puzzled.
It didn't seem like something that needed keeping quiet.
Ron gave him a wink. "Don't tell anyone yet."
Though Harry didn't know what Ron was hiding, he decided to respect his friend's wishes.
Watching the pair of them pull faces at each other, Hermione looked a bit perplexed,
but for the moment she was more interested in the Golden Egg.
"Have you discovered the egg's secret?" she asked quickly.
"Nothing yet," Harry shook his head. "Yesterday in the dormitory I tried opening it, but it let out an absolutely horrible noise. I don't think that's a hint for the next task."
"An absolutely horrible noise?"
Hermione propped her chin on her hand. "Let me hear it?"
"Let's go to the common room," Harry said, getting up at once. "There's still some time before class."
"Hey! Wait for me!"
Seeing Harry and Hermione leave him behind, Ron grabbed a piece of steak, stuffed it into his mouth, and hurried after them.
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