Chapter 17: DdraigaraithChapter TextAlright, explain this runic alphabet to me.
It had been a week since Harry's eventful lesson concerning unicorns. The very lesson in which Ron was rejected by the unicorns. Since then, Ron had become the pariah of Gryffindor. It was becoming well known amongst the Lions, and the other Houses, that the Golden Trio was now a Golden Duo. Ron's claim that Harry was a liar and a cheat lost all support, if it ever had any, in his own House. After all, unicorns were universally known as excellent judges of character, and naturally mistrustful of men. That Harry had actually ridden one, around Hogwarts, put to rest any lingering thoughts he might have cheated.
Only his siblings and year-mates had anything to do with him anymore, and even that was limited.
While Ron had been dumped in the Gryffindor waste basket, Harry had risen to become the star of Gryffindor. The same lesson that left Ron in the dirt saw Harry rise to the top like a phoenix from the ashes. Outside of Ron, the entire House had united behind Harry, far more than even the unified front of Slytherin.
But that was for later. Right now, he was seated in an abandoned classroom, working on his latest project: a cure for blood malediction.
As part of the process, Harry had ordered a new cauldron, one that he was preparing to inscribe with runes for added effect. However, Goliath wasn't talking about the standard runes learned in class, but instead an entirely new runic alphabet. An alphabet, created by the Fire Drakes.
What don't you understand? Right now, you're just recording the alphabet for reference when the true work begins.
Yeah, but you called it the Third Language. That's what I'm trying to figure out.
Right, I forgot, you humans no longer teach the lessons we gave to the Old Tribes. Well, this alphabet is the written form of the language of the Dragons, Ddraigaraith. It is, as I've said, the Third Language.
But what were the first two? What came before it?
The First Language has no true name. It has existed as long as Creation itself because it is the written form of the words spoken by what created us all. It is the Codex of Life, the Memories of Fate, and Bones of the Universe. The most common name humans gave to it, is the Language of Heaven.
The Language of Heaven? As in, the home of angels, Heaven?
Perhaps. Even we did not know the full truth behind Creation. Some humans worshipped a God of Life that, supposedly, Lady Magic was the consort of. Perhaps they are one and the same.
But that's not the point. The point is, the Language of Heaven preceded all other languages, both verbal and written and the runic alphabet associated with it allows for some of the most powerful works of enchantment ever conceived. The catch is, powering the runes takes a great deal of magical power, so it is beyond the reach of most. Even more than that, it requires unbelievable precision, and even the slightest mistake can nullify the enchantment altogether, or cause something entirely unintended. For that reason, we'll be sticking to Ddraigaraith.
So what's the second language?
Dark Speech, the Corrupt Tongue, the words of Oblivion. It has many names, but it is most simply called, the Language of the Damned. It is the written form of Darkness and Evil itself. Corruption festers in every syllable and feeds off those foolish enough to use it. Harry, I will be teaching you to identify the language, but you are not, under any circumstances, to create anything using these runes.
Is it that bad?
Worse. It is a twisted parody of the Language of Heaven, that feeds on all who use it. It is capable of obscenely powerful enchantments but demands far more than magic to fuel its power.
Just how dangerous is it?
During the Middle Ages, a wizard was foolish enough to create an enchanted sword using the Language of the Damned. The end result was an obscenely powerful sword, allowing him to kill anyone who stood before him. But the sword was sentient, and every life he took, the sword gripped his soul more and more. The more of his soul it held, the more blood it demanded be spilled to feed its bloodlust. When he could finally feed it no more, the sword fed on his very soul, turning him into a mindless husk, controlled by the very blade he thought made him a god.
What happened to the sword?
Recovered by a monk during the Black Plague. He wasn't a wizard but was educated enough on the nature of magic to recognize something genuinely unholy when he saw it. At some point during the Plague, the Church destroyed it, likely at a great human cost.
So how does Ddraigaraith become the third language?
What you call dragons today, are little more than the degenerate, bastardized descendants of a once mighty species. True dragons are far more than the oversized iguanas you'll have to contend with. What you think is a dragon, is little more than a few tons of flaming muscle, with a brain the size of a walnut.
And 'true dragons' are?
Intelligent. Powerful. Regal. True dragons are to the Horntail, what humans are to chimps. But whereas chimps became greater as they became humans, dragons became lesser until we became the Horntail. There are many breeds of dragon, now gone, that were all I described and more. But none of them came close to my kind.
So true dragons created Ddraigaraith?
Correct. The ancient dragons, in an age even wizards consider to be consigned to mythology, devised the language, and its alphabet, as an expression of their power and glory. They would later teach humans the runes, and how to use them. But eventually, with the disappearance of the last Fire Drake, it fell into obscurity. I doubt even your Runes Professor could tell you anything about it.
Hermione is going to flip, once she realizes I know runes even our professor doesn't.
You can teach her one day. For now, focus on creating the runic lexicon. Eventually, you'll enchant a cauldron with a specific sequence, that'll empower it for healing potions and draughts.
Finally, the day of the Wand Weighing arrived. Sitting at breakfast in the Great Hall, Harry was patiently waiting. He wasn't waiting for Hedwig. He planned to reveal that secret at a later date.
No, today was the day the Potter Stinks badges arrived. Draco had been petty and pathetic enough to pay some students to enchant the badges to display Support Cedric Diggory, only to change to Potter Stinks whenever he could see them.
Finally, true to form, the Slytherin students arrived, and Draco and his cronies were indeed wearing the badges. In fact, most of the Slytherins were wearing the badges, and they were already switching to 'Potter Stinks.'
Is it too much to hope that we avoid this drama this time around?
Do you intend to start a fight with him over it?
No, the same people wearing those fucking badges thought I was the Heir of Slytherin. Their opinions of me are worthless.
When Potions finally came around, it was time to deal with Snape and his damn antidotes lesson. Like always, the instructions were written on the board, and they were told to partner up, and get to work. Being partnered up with Hermione meant the potion would be perfect, except for one problem.
"Harry, we have to do the mixtures individually."
For this class, the antidote they were brewing required the creation of two separate mixtures. Because it was a double potions class, Snape intended for them to brew the mixtures individually. Of course, this meant that Harry had never finished the mixture, despite Snape attempting to hold him back. Whether it was to intentionally get Harry in trouble, or the greasy dungeon bat simply didn't believe anything more important than his class, was still up for debate.
"Technically, we don't have to, we're just expected to. Very big difference."
"Harry..."
"Look, the Wand Weighing Ceremony is today, probably during class. I don't want to leave you with extra work, just because of this damn Tournament."
She blushed at that and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well... alright. I'll get started on the second mixture. But I'll be ready if you need any help."
With Hermione on board, they got to work on the separate mixtures. At the rate they were going, the antidote would be finished halfway through the double potions. But of course, someone took notice of what they were doing and hovered behind the pair.
"Potter! Why have you and Granger separated your duties!?"
Hermione kept her head down, trying to focus on the mixture, while Harry turned to face the dungeon bat, with a face that gave nothing away.
"Seemed to be more efficient than doing it one at a time."
Snape leaned forward, eyes boring into Harry like a hawk. "You were supposed to go through the mixtures individually."
At Snape's insistence on the word 'individually,' Harry turned to look at the board, where the instructions had been written. Before Snape could respond, Harry turned back, a look of practiced innocence on his face.
"It doesn't say that in the instructions."
Aside from the sound of bubbling potions, nothing could be heard in the class. This was the first time someone had spoken back to Snape about a recipe for a potion, and nobody knew what to expect. Snape looked down at Harry, searching his mind for an appropriate response when an explosion came from the far side of the class.
Seizing the opportunity, Snape rushed to handle the situation, while Harry and Hermione got back to work. Before long, they had completed the separate mixtures and proceeded to combine them to create the antidote.
While Snape was looming over the cauldron, trying to find some reason, beyond the separation of duties, to give Potter a poor grade, when there was a knock at the door.
"Enter!" Snape barked out.
The door opened, and in came Colin Creevey. "Harry Potter has been called for the Wand Weighing Ceremony sir. For the Triwizard Tournament."
"Very well. Potter, take your things with you. I doubt you'll be back for the end of class."
"And our grade for the antidote, Professor?"
Snape shot a silent glare at Harry for that, before finally saying, "The antidote is... satisfactory. Now get moving."
Grabbing his things, Harry rushed out of the class. Once the door was closed, and they began walking to the Ceremony, Harry noticed something about Colin. The boy was carrying a package wrapped in parchment.
"Colin, what are you carrying?"
"Oh, I almost forgot! Your godfather, Sirius, is here for the ceremony as a judge. He asked me to give this to you. Said you'd need it since you're representing your family."
Taking the package, Harry read the note that came with it.
Prongslet
Moony and I were a bit shocked to find out you could name a judge as a fourth competitor in the Tournament. Moony figured it was the only way to keep the Madame and the walking shitstain happy, to represent your family instead of Hogwarts.
Because of this, we figured you would need a different uniform since you aren't representing your school. Ragnok was happy to provide it, and he's planning to attend the Tasks. Besides, it's one more way to tweak the bearded blighter, and who am I to refuse such an opportunity?
Padfoot.
Opening the package, Harry was surprised to find a pair of robes as its contents. Heading into the first lavatory they passed, Harry opened the package fully and marvelled at the set of War Robes he had been sent.
War Robes were a set of robes tailor-made specifically for usage in battle and war. Each set would have a ludicrous amount of protective enchantments worked into them, making them extremely useful in the middle of a heated battle. Enchantments varied wildly, universally containing wards against most jinxes and hexes, along with a few curses, as well as strengthening charms to reinforce the fabric, turning it into a form of armour against physical threats. This also included fire-proofing charms, water-proofing charms, and lightweight charms.
Beyond that, the Robes could vary wildly in their function. Many, but not all, contained cushioning charms, for particularly rough fights, as well as self-cleaning charms. Others contained silencing and disillusionment charms for stealth, while others contained expanded space enchantments, along with various charms meant for comfort.
Of course, this added utility came with an increased price tag, and War Robes, depending on their quality, could exceed prices of 25,000 Galleons.
So it was no surprise that a family as obscenely wealthy as the Potters had a dozen War Robes stored in their vault. These Robes in particular stood out for two reasons. The first was the crest of the Potter Family, a red dragon, sewn into the back of the robes. What made them unique, however, was they were armoured, usually unheard of among wizard families. With strengthening charms, it was nowadays considered pointless to include actual armour, but Harry recognized these Robes.
These Robes had been worn by his grandfather, Charlus Fleamont Potter, during the war against Grindelwald. During the war, he had been questioned about wearing such Robes, especially as they made him recognizable to the Alliance and its Acolytes. Any element of surprise would be lost.
To which Charlus always replied, "I don't want the Acolytes to be surprised. I want them to be scared."
This wasn't just a uniform, or even a set of armour. It was a declaration. To most, a declaration the House of Potter was back, and here to stay. For Albus, a reminder of the power he sought to constrain. Much as Harry wanted to refuse wearing the Robes, to avoid setting off alarms in Dumbledore's head, he couldn't resist the opportunity to irritate the bugger.
Walking out of the lavatory in full War Robes left Colin speechless, taking a moment to mentally restart before he lead Harry to the appointed class.
Bidding farewell to Colin on their arrival, Harry stepped into the classroom. Just as before, he was the last champion to arrive. Viktor was standing by the small window, staring out at the lake and ignoring everyone else, while Cedric and Fleur were in another corner having a conversation.
Sitting in the chairs arranged behind the desks, was Ludo Bagman, talking to one Rita Skeeter.
If she pulls you into the closet again, feel free to let me out.
Not a fan of her, I take it?
I take offence to middle-aged predatory types dragging an underage student into an enclosed space.
When Bagman caught sight of Harry, his mouth hung open for a moment, before he lunged out of his chair, scrambling around the tables to greet him.
"Harry! Our prodigal champion arrives! Well, come on in Harry, don't be shy! No need to be worried, it's only the Wand Weighing Ceremony. We are just waiting for the rest of the judges and the expert to arrive."
"Checking the wands to ensure they're fully functional?"
"Exactly! Your wand is going to be the most important tool in the tasks ahead, well, other than your wit of course. Afterwards, we have a little photoshoot, and that's it. Maybe a small interview…" The idiot turned back to Skeeter, giving her a smile. "That's Rita Skeeter. She'll be doing a small piece on the tournament and its champions for the Daily Prophet."
"Oh, Ludo, it isn't going to be that small." That tone sent a chill up Harry's spine, especially knowing exactly how lacking in scruples this bint was. "I mean… the return of the Triwizard Tournament?! Four champions for the first time in history? It's the story of the year." Although she was talking to Bagman, her eyes never left Harry.
"Story of the year... right. Well, who are we waiting on?"
Before Rita could ask for an interview, Bagman answered. "Just the judges, and Britain's resident wand expert, Garrick Olivander."
"Do you mind if I have a quick chat with Harry before the ceremony, Ludo?" Rita was quick with her question before Harry could think of a way to stall for time. "After all, he is the Fourth Champion. The Youngest. The rebel. It will add a bit of spice."
Before either of them could ask, she had reached out to grab Harry's upper arm, only for Harry to offer a startling response.
"Don't touch me."
Rita grabbed at the empty air as he jerked his arm back, keeping himself free of her grip. But what shocked Rita most was the glow in his eyes as he made the statement. Taken by surprise, she stepped back while thinking of a response, searching for some way to justify violating Harry's personal space.
Before she could, however, the door opened again, and in walked the judges, led by Dumbledore, and Garrick Olivander. This time, Sirius was among the judges, and Harry grinned widely at his appearance. Even better, when Dumbledore got a good look at Harry in his War Robes, he paused, and colour seemed to drain from his face. But it didn't last, as he was soon beginning the ceremony.
"I see the champions are all here. May I introduce to you all, Garrick Ollivander? He will be assessing your wands to make sure they're ready for the coming tasks."
The old wizard hobbled to the lectern in the middle of the room, looking at all the champions with his large, pale gray eyes.
"Miss Delacour?" He extended a shrivelled hand. Fleur stepped forward, placing her wand in his palm.
He looked at the wand for a minute, running his finger along its length, "Nine and a half inches... rosewood... rather inflexible and temperamental... I presume because of its rather unique core…"
"Veela hair," Fleur confirmed. "My grandmother's. She gave a strand for the core of my wand, and my sister's," Fleur declared proudly.
Ollivander nodded, pleased that his suspicions were correct. He summoned a bouquet of flowers, handing both the flowers and the wand back to Fleur.
"Mr. Diggory?" Cedric walked up, and handed his wand to Ollivander, awaiting judgment.
"Ah! One of mine!" Ollivander was much more animated. "12 inches... ash... unicorn core... Springy and well-tuned. It's in fine condition."
"I polish it every night," Cedric replied proudly.
This time Ollivander conjured up a jet of water, handing the wand back to Cedric with an approving nod.
"Mr. Krum?" Viktor Krum walked over to the wandmaker, silently pushing his wand into the awaiting palm.
"Ahh. I recognize this style: A Gregorovitch wand. Never did agree with him on anything but…" Ollivander mumbled, studying the wand. "Rigid... too rigid... a curious combination, hornbeam and dragon heartstring," he mumbled. "Avis!" The wand let out a bang as a group of twittering birds shot out of it, and Ollivander handed it back, satisfied.
"That leaves… Mr. Potter."
Now came a moment Harry had no plan for. Garrick would be going over the wand, and Albus would immediately see it wasn't the same as before. He could suppress the power of the wand when he held it, but all bets were off once he handed it to Garrick. Stepping up to the man, he placed the wand in his awaiting hand. The old man looked like a kid at Christmas.
"I remember this one... my masterpiece... elder wood... 13 inches... twin cores of phoenix feather... and dragon heartstring..."
Even standing in front of the old man, he was whispering the words so quietly, even Harry could barely hear him. The rest of the room leaned in, trying to hear even snippets of the man's description.
Unconcerned with the eyes on him, he looked over the wand, slowly and carefully. Drinking in every tiny detail, he inspected it like it was evidence of the crime of the century. Nearly five minutes passed with him looking it over, before he simply handed it back to Harry, with two words.
"It's perfect."
"Thank Merlin your godfather was here to save us."
The photo session was over remarkably quickly compared to the last time. When Rita and the photographer began arguing over the placement of Harry and Fleur, Sirius quickly defused the situation and negotiated a compromise. Likewise, when Rita was insistent on individual shots, Sirius convinced her to hold off until she had interviews with each champion.
Or rather, he distracted her long enough for the students to make their getaway, with Madame Maxime blocking the photographer from noticing their daring escape.
"Yeah, I owe him a lot of Firewhiskey for that."
Fleur and Krum had gone their own ways upon escape, while Harry and Cedric stuck together as they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. On the way, they were found by two witches looking for them, Susan Bones and Hermione Granger... and Hermione was noticeably missing her large teeth.
"Hermione, what happened to your teeth?"
She began blushing at the fact Harry noticed almost immediately but answered. "After Potions class, Malfoy decided to start pestering me about your chances in the Tournament. When I wouldn't answer, he began taunting me about the badges he and the rest of the school were wearing." Susan looked unhappy at the mention of the badges, along with Cedric.
She continued, "The boys in Gryffindor, other than Ron, told him to bugger off, and that sparked a minor duel between Seamus and Dean, and Malfoy and Crabbe. Crabbe ended up puking slugs, while I ended up with fangs..."
"And you let Madam Pomfrey make them smaller than before." Harry finished the sentence with a knowing smirk.
"Does it... look good?"
"How do you feel?"
Hermione blushed at that, but answered, "Good. I feel more... confident in myself."
"Then I think you look wonderful."
Cedric was smirking at the two of them, knowing flirting when he saw it. But that was when Susan decided to speak up.
"Speaking of badges, Harry, I wanted to apologize."
"For what?"
"For the badges. I... I know one of my friends is wearing one, but I refuse to. My aunt Amelia insists you didn't put your name in the Goblet, and I believe her."
"Well, thank you, Susan. I appreciate you doing that. As for the rest of the students... fuck 'em."
"Harry!" Hermione was scandalized by Harry's casual swear, while Cedric and Susan were stunned.
"Everyone wearing a badge now thought I was the Heir of Slytherin two years ago. As far as I'm concerned they can rot."
As it happened, another person was within hearing range of this little talk. A person that was shocked at Mr.Potter's vulgar language, but puzzled over something else.
'Badges? What badges?'
Taking out her spectacles, Minerva McGonagall was quite displeased by what she saw.
A little-known fact about Professor McGonagall was the spectacles she was seen wearing at times were not necessary, yet neither were they for show. The spectacles had enchantments geared toward magical detection. If somebody had charmed or enchanted something to be unnoticeable, either to her specifically, or to others in general, the items would appear to glow when viewed with the spectacles.
What she saw raised her suspicions. Several students had something glowing on their uniforms, presumably the badges Susan was talking about. But why would she feel obliged to apologize over a badge?
Walking up to the nearest glowing students, a pair of Hufflepuffs named Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillian, she fixed them with an unreadable expression.
"Miss Abbott, Mr.Macmillian."
"Professor McGonagall, is something wrong?" Hannah asked the question so casually. It seemed she didn't suspect the reason she and Ernie had been stopped.
"I'd like to see your badges." She held out her hand as she said this.
The two Hufflepuffs were surprised and initially didn't move. Until Ernie asked, "What badges would you be referring to?"
"The ones you think I can't see."
Left with no other choice, they handed her their badges. Looking down, she saw it said, in bright red, 'SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY-THE TRUE HOGWARTS CHAMPION'
'Why would Susan apologize over this?' As if to answer her question, the badges changed in her hands to display, in bright yellow 'POTTER STINKS'
Though her face was unreadable, McGonagall was furious. Insulting badges, charmed so that none of the staff could see them. This meant, to Harry, the subject of their taunting, it would appear the staff either didn't know or care enough to put a stop to them.
And she could see how that would be believable. Two years ago, during the Chamber of Secrets fiasco, the entire school was convinced Harry was behind the petrifications. She had wanted to quell these rumours, to do something that would put the student's minds at ease, or at the very least get them to treat a fellow student with some decency. But Albus had argued against it, and to her great shame she went along with it.
'Not this time.'
Turning to the now-pale Hannah and Ernie, she asked with barely restrained fury "Where did you get these?"
"F-from Draco. He-he's handing them out to anyone who'll take them."
"I see... 5 points, each, from Hufflepuff, and I will be speaking with Professor Sprout about these badges."
With that, she sent the two on their way, while McGonagall went in search of someone she would normally avoid.
'Filch may be a spiteful idiot, but he has eyes everywhere, and knows the castle inside and out. Let's see what he knows...'
That evening, Albus Dumbledore sat in his office, thinking over what had occurred today.
The Weighing of the Wand Ceremony had proceeded, as planned. Unfortunately, with Sirius present, Albus would have to tread carefully in the future. The mutt had been rather cold to him since the summer. Nothing overtly hostile, to suggest he had an inkling into Albus' plans concerning Harry. That was a ludicrous suggestion. No, far more likely, Sirius simply hadn't forgiven him for not getting him a trial sooner.
That was an issue Albus would need to address in the future, but for now, it could wait.
But Sirius had done something that raised a number of red flags in Dumbledore's mind. He had provided Harry with a pair of War Robes, straight from the Potter Vault! And not just any War Robes, but the Robes of Charlus Potter. Albus remembered the Robes, and the man who last wore them, quite clearly.
Charlus had been a veritable Titan of Magic during the War against Grindelwald. Those Robes had struck fear into the hearts of the Acolytes, and the Alliance. More than a few witches and wizards had dropped their wands at the sight of those Robes. The ones who fought would be given a brutal reminder of why the dragon was the symbol of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter for a thousand years.
Much as he was loathe to admit it, Charlus was likely the one wizard, even with the Elder Wand, that Albus feared to duel. They were both brilliant wizards, and capable duelists, but Charlus was not the type to hold back. In battle, he'd fall on the enemy like a thunderbolt, shattering his enemies, and destroying anything that stood between him and victory.
The fact that it was dragon pox, of all things, that killed Charlus and his wife, Dorea Black, was a remarkable irony, and a fantastic stroke of luck.
Seeing Harry in those robes brought back more than a few memories, none of them pleasant.
Then, of course, Garrick had inspected the wands. The first three had proceeded quite simply but then came Harry's turn. The wand he gave to Garrik was decidedly not a holly wand. In fact, it looked like it was made of elder wood. Of course, he couldn't tell because the damned fool was whispering when he looked the wand over. Not to mention, all he would say when questioned about the wand was simply, "It's perfect." It was infuriating!
He had to know, what had led to Harry changing his wand? What was this new wand made of? And why was Garrick behaving so strangely around the wand?
The fact Sirius talked the photographer into letting the Champions go early, while the judges, including him, stayed behind was frustrating! He had hoped to corner Harry right after the ceremony, with the wand still fresh in mind. Confronting him about it later would only lead to more questions, questions he wasn't inclined to ask.
Still, he had some ideas for what to do going forward. The dragons would be brought in the day before. It wouldn't leave him with much time, but it would be enough. It only left him with the question of which dragon to pick for Harry.
After all, how else was he to test his martyr?
Chapter 18: The Lioness RoarsNotes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextTHE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT BEGINS
ARE THE FOUR CHAMPIONS READY FOR WHAT LIES AHEAD?
By Rita Skeeter
That was the headline for the Evening Prophet the next day. Beneath it was a picture of the four champions, with the lovely Fleur, and the armoured Harry taking centre stage. The headline and corresponding article were remarkably tame by Rita's standards, especially concerning the other Champions.
Oh, it contained its usual flourish and Rita's rather liberal definition of 'the truth,' but it lacked venom. It remarked on the dark arts being taught at Durmstrang but didn't suggest that Krum was going to use anything forbidden to get ahead. Fleur being a Veela was used to suggest she would be utilizing magics known only to 'her kind' as a means of attaining victory. On the upside, she didn't suggest those magics involved seduction, so Fleur was able to keep her dignity.
Cedric was described as the 'sweet and charming' Champion of Hufflepuff, in direct contrast to the 'rebellious' 14-year-old Harry. The part centred on Harry was as close to her usual style of "one-quarter fact, three-quarters rubbish." Mostly it devolved into an opinion and speculation piece. The speculation: How would the Boy-Who-Cannot-Die fare in a Tournament meant for witches and wizards several years senior, and several years more experienced? Would the audience get a taste of 'the ancient magics hoarded by the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter for a thousand years?' Or would they be treated to spells otherwise never before seen?
At least she got my age right.
Nobody is stupid enough to believe a twelve-year-old has muscles like a professional athlete.
You'd be surprised what people are stupid enough to believe. Though I'm more worried about the fact she's being almost, if it's even possible, complimentary, to me.
The people love their heroes, as does the media, but they both love to see their heroes fail and fall. If she's building you up, it's only so she can tear you down all the more. Tread carefully around her, if you can't avoid it.
The entire Great Hall was filled with copies of the Evening Prophet, and students were reading said copies with great interest. More than a few witches had sent glances his way when they were confident he wasn't looking. Apparently, he looked quite dashing in his War Robes. Even he could admit, the photo of him standing next to Fleur made him look like some manner of Knight, having just rescued the princess from the castle.
:"Have they told you anything about what to expect?" Hermione was seated next to him, having finished her copy of the Prophet, and upset no indication of what the Champions could expect was given.
"Only that it'll test our daring, our courage, and our wit under pressure." Speaking in a presenter's voice made Hermione briefly smirk before she smacked his arm.
"Prat. Seriously, you need a plan for the First Task. You can't just wing it and hope for the best."
"Why not? It seems to have worked for me so far."
Hermione huffed when she saw him grinning as he said that.
"Harry, this is serious. I've read up on past Tournaments, and they've always been extremely dangerous, both to the competitors and the audience."
"I know, Hermione. But the Task could be anything, so if I'm going to have a plan, it can't be too rigid, otherwise, it might become pointless. I need to plan something that can be adapted depending on the circumstances."
Hermione blinked as he finished that little explanation. "You've really given this a lot of thought."
"I'd thank you if you didn't make it sound like a miracle."
"No, I didn't mean..." She paused when she noticed him grinning at her. "You were joking, weren't you?"
"What can I say, Sirius has that effect on people. Give me one full summer with him, and I'll give the twins a run for their money."
Later that night, as the castle slept silently, Harry crept out of bed. Donning his invisibility cloak, he made his way out of the castle down to the unicorn enclosure. In his hand, a small crystal vial.
This is messed up on so many levels.
It's not the same.
When they arrived at the enclosure, most of the unicorns were deep in slumber, not even reacting to Harry's presence. One unicorn, however, was still awake, and keeping watch: Thunder.
When the stallion saw Harry approach, he trotted patiently to the fence surrounding the enclosure. When they came face to face, or rather face to muzzle, Harry sighed heavily, deeply reluctant to undertake what he came here for.
"Thunder, I am so sorry, but a girl in the school suffers from a blood malediction. I want to help her, to free her from the curse that will kill her. But to do that, I need..." Harry couldn't finish, simply holding the vial up.
He had no way of knowing if Thunder could understand but wished to convey his reluctance at what would come next.
Which is why it was a remarkable surprise for Thunder to take the vial in his teeth, and set it down in the enclosure. Before Harry could respond or react, Thunder had raised his leg over the vial. But instead of bringing his hoof down on the vial, he lowered his head and bit into the flesh on his leg.
Harry instinctively winced at the sight of a unicorn willingly hurting itself, but he went wide-eyed at what he saw. Instead of the thick, silvery substance he had come to recognize as unicorn blood, it was instead a golden liquid. The liquid gold dribbled down Thunder's leg, until it dripped into the vial, filling it up quickly.
With that done, Thunder moved his leg back to its regular position, and picked up the vial, this time to return it to Harry. He had no words, only uttering an awe-filled 'thank you' as he turned back to the castle under his cloak.
That was... not what I expected.
I told you it's not the same. Do you still remember what Firenze told you?
Of course. The blood of a unicorn will preserve your life, but because a unicorn is so pure, you will be cursed the moment the blood touches your lips.
Yes, slaying or otherwise harming a unicorn to save yourself is what curses you, but you didn't hurt the unicorn. It hurt itself.
How does that make a difference?
Harming a unicorn to save yourself is something only a hollow, selfish person would even consider. But the unicorn freely gave its blood to you. It willingly offered a piece of itself to help save a life. No one could do that and be selfish.
So this isn't going to carry a curse?
Far from it. The blood of a unicorn, willingly offered, is among the most powerful healing ingredients of all. It carries both a healing effect and a purifying aspect. Add it to the potion, stir six times clockwise, then six counter-clockwise. Let it simmer until it turns a luminescent blue, and you will have enough potion to heal the entire Greengrass family.
While contemplating their next moves concerning the Greengrass daughters, Harry was startled by the sudden appearance of a third-year Ravenclaw girl. Startled enough that he dropped the Invisibility Cloak.
"Hello, Harry."
"Luna, hello. Uh, what are you doing out so late?"
"My housemates sent me out of Ravenclaw Tower, and said I should go sleep in the 'looney bin.' I'm still trying to find it."
That got Goliath growling, and Harry had to suppress his urge for violence. Looking at Luna, he was relieved to see her in her school robes, but furious at the lack of shoes, socks, and anything that might keep her warm. The snow may not have fallen yet, but it was still late at night, in November, in Scotland. The chance for hypothermia was omnipresent, not to mention it was just cruel to-
"Luna??? Why are you giving me a belly rub?"
"Professor Hagrid said dragons like belly rubs. Is he wrong?"
The mention of a dragon got Harry's eyes wide, and his blood ice cold. How could she know? She couldn't, he told himself. Luna may be... different, but she couldn't know about Goliath. He needed to play this carefully and answered her in a calm voice that gave away none of his internal panic.
"No, I think he's right. But why would that have anything to do with you giving me a belly rub?"
"Because you're a dragon. Or, you have a dragon. It's tough to tell sometimes."
"You... you know about Goliath?"
"Is that his name? I like it. Very strong, and noble. Just like you."
Harry's mind was swirling with questions, desperate to know how she knew when even Dumbledore had no idea he had found Goliath.
"What do you know about him?"
"He helped you come back, to save your friends and family. He's a good dragon, not like the other ones."
She knows about the timeline change.
"You know about the timeline changing?"
"Mhmm. And I can't wait to see how the new timeline ends." She never, not once, during the entire conversation, lost that dreamy smile of hers.
"Well, I hope it turns out well. But for now, let's find you a prefect, they can..."
"Please don't. The prefects will deduct points, and that will only make my housemates unhappy."
We can't just leave her here.
But we can't bring her to the Gryffindor Common Room.
Then Harry got an idea. He'd been using Moaning Myrtle's lavatory for his potion brewing. It was still abandoned, and Myrtle was curious to see what Harry was up to in his spare time. That meant, there was one other room perfect for Luna.
Wrapping them both in the Invisibility Cloak, Harry led her to the seventh-floor corridor, near the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet.
After reintroducing Luna to the Room of Requirement, who remembered the Room itself, just not where it was, Harry was pleased to see her recreate her bedroom, complete with a big cozy bed.
Wishing her good night, he turned to leave, only for Luna to call out to him.
"Harry."
"Yes, Luna?"
"They'll find their way into the world. Maybe not how they did before, but they'll be given their chance."
He didn't say anything in response but gave her a small smile before he left. He had a potion to finish, after all.
Sunday afternoon, just after lunch, a staff meeting was being held in the Headmaster's office. A staff meeting being held in the Headmaster's office wasn't unusual, but this meeting was. What made it unusual was it was neither pre-scheduled nor called by Dumbledore. Instead, it had been called at McGonagall's insistence.
The topic of the meeting hadn't been discussed, despite Dumbledore's attempts at sneaking an explanation out of her. She'd been tight-lipped, and Albus knew better than to try using legilimency or compulsions on her. Her training as an occlumens was top-notch and kept her mind safe from him. He wasn't prepared to risk another migraine, courtesy of occlumency.
"Now then, Minerva, what seems to have inspired this staff meeting?"
"My 'inspiration,' Albus, is a disgusting degradation of a Hogwarts student, by fellow students, in the midst of a dangerous Tournament that requires unimpeded focus."
At that, she pulled out the two badges and began passing them around to the other staff.
"I discovered that students are wearing these disgusting badges. They've been enchanted not to be seen by the staff, but I was still able to find these two being worn by Hufflepuff students." Professor Sprout, who had been looking over one of the badges, was briefly shocked to discover her Puffs would wear these badges, but that shock gave way to anger that they would disgrace Helga's legacy like this.
"None of my Lions are wearing them, that I've found, but I've seen several students from the other Houses wearing them, especially Slytherin."
"Who made them? And how are the students getting them?" Professor Flitwick, like Sprout, wasn't happy to hear his students were wearing something demeaning.
"Draco Malfoy is passing them out to any students who'll take them. As for who made them, Filch?"
Argus Filch stepped forward, in his hands he carried a wooden case. When Professor Flitwick saw it, his eyes went wide.
"We found this in an abandoned classroom that, according to Filch, a number of students have been frequenting, including Mr.Malfoy. It's a rune-carving kit, though I'm not sure who it belongs to."
"I do, I'm afraid. It belongs to one of my Ravenclaws, a sixth-year. I've seen him using it in the Common Room doing homework."
It was then Albus decided to speak up. "And what do you wish to do about it, Minerva?"
Minerva rounded on Albus, an expression of stern outrage on her face. "What I plan to do, is to put a stop to it, now! Bad enough that students still think Harry is a cheat, despite Alastor and the Aurors confirming he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, but to parade around, flaunting these disgusting badges is a step too far."
"Surely that's a bit much? They're only badges. Harmless, in the grand scheme of things."
Some of the professors were looking at Albus with looks of bewilderment, especially Sprout and Flitwick. While Snape was always reluctant to punish Slytherin students, they were less inclined to blatant favouritism, especially for something like this. Meanwhile, Minerva had a look of fury on her face, one that hadn't been seen by the staff in some time.
"That's what you said during the Chamber of Secrets incident, and look how that turned out! The entire school turned on Harry, convinced he was a monster in waiting, ready to attack at any moment! It took Miss Granger being petrified for them to realize how stupid the idea was!
"Since 1981, I've gone along with your reasoning against my better judgment! I backed down when you left Harry in the care of his vile relatives, I went along with your mad decision to use Hogwarts like a bank vault, and I accepted your convoluted logic concerning rumours Harry was the Heir of Slytherin! No more, Albus. I will put a stop to this vileness before it goes any further!"
Albus recoiled at the verbal assault, startled that Minerva was so furious with him. Before he could muster up a response, Professor Flitwick stepped in. Whether it was to help Albus, he wasn't sure.
"What would you suggest, Minerva? You have my support, but I want to know what your punishments will be."
"We make dinner in the Great Hall mandatory for all Hogwarts students. I've not seen any foreign students with badges, so they are free to do as they or their teachers wish. We Heads of House will summon the badges from our students, and deduct 5 points each. I will double the points loss for Gryffindor students."
"10 points."
The words came from Professor Sprout and were spoken so curtly that they startled the other teachers.
"Make it 10 points per badge. I've told my Puffs at length that Harry is not a cheat, and that he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire. And I know that Cedric has done the same. If points lost are needed to establish the truth, then make the punishment stick."
As surprising as Sprout's words were, no one disputed her reasoning, and a plan was formed for tonight.
After the teachers left to inform the students of tonight's mandatory dinner, Albus slumped in his chair, both proud and frustrated.
Since Harry began attending Hogwarts, he'd made it a point to keep McGonagall busy. Too busy to perform her Head of House duties properly. This would deprive Harry of what would be much-needed support among the staff, forcing him to turn to Dumbledore whenever possible. And now, Minerva had to bugger that all up!
Not for nothing was she called the Lioness of Gryffindor. She regarded her students as a Pride, and while she could be a stern Head of House, that all changed when her Lions were being threatened. She would circle them like a protective mother, and when she saw an opening, she went straight for the throat. He'd be proud of her for protecting her students like this if it wasn't interfering with his plans!
Albus knew about the badges from the beginning. He wasn't aware the Ravenclaws had a part in their making, but he knew Draco was responsible, and he knew that they were being flaunted by the other Houses. In fact, he wanted to encourage it! The badges would leave Harry feeling isolated, and alone. Helpless in the face of the coming Task. He'd be desperate for some guiding light, and while Albus couldn't help because of the rules, rules he knew the other schools would ignore, he could point him in the right direction.
This would further entrench Harry in his influence, giving Albus greater leeway in his control of his life. But that wouldn't happen now, with Minerva on the hunt. There wasn't much he could do to stop her now, aside from removing her as Head of Gryffindor House. For that to happen, he'd need the other Heads of House to agree, and they'd never do that, not now.
For now, all he could is sit and wait. The dragons would soon be arriving, and then he could get to work.
While this was going on, Harry was back in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Like in his second year, with the Polyjuice potion, it made a perfect brewing lab. As an added bonus, Myrtle, grateful for the chance to see the corpse of the monster that killed her, was happy to act as an assistant, watching the potion as it boiled, letting him know when he needed to visit for the next step.
This time, he was waiting for the arrival of Daphne Greengrass. The Blood Malediction Cure was ready, a luminescent blue liquid, that would act like a purging potion. Astoria was in for an uncomfortable few moments, but afterwards, the curse would be purged from her entire being. It would not only cure her, it would prevent the curse from being passed down. She, and future generations, would be free.
Eventually, Daphne did arrive, along with her sister and Tracey Davis.
"Potter, explain to me why you've invited us into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom?"
"Brian and Anna were only supposed to invite you, Daphne. But no matter, the end result is the same." He held up a glowing blue vial.
"Is that-?"
"It's a Blood Malediction Cure." Harry handed it to Astoria. "Drinking one vial will permanently..." he paused as Astoria quickly downed the vial, eager to be rid of the curse. "I was going to say, it'll cure you, but it acts like a purging potion. Well enough, I suppose. We are in a bathroom after all."
They didn't have long to wait, as once Harry finished his sentence, Astoria rushed into a stall and began retching into the toilet. Daphne followed, rubbing her back as the potion did its job, while Tracey hung back with Harry, watching with concerned eyes.
"Harry, her puke is black. Is it supposed to be black?" Myrtle was hovering over the girls, watching with curiosity the unfolding events.
"It is. She's puking up the taint in her system, and it's been killed off by the potion. If the curse were still active, it would take on a dark red colour, appearing to be blood. She'll be fine once it's out of her system."
As he said, after five minutes of uninterrupted puke, Astoria stood up. All the colour that had been drained from her by the curse had returned. Even from a simple glance, they could tell she was feeling better than she had ever believed possible.
Running off to join her friends, after giving Harry a bone-crunching hug, Astoria left Harry with Daphne and Tracey, both of whom looked at him with shock at his achievement.
"How did you do this?"
"That'll be a secret for myself, Miss Greengrass. As it happens, I've still got a full cauldron of the cure for yourself and any relatives that might suffer from the curse."
"Just me and our parents. The curse is present in all of us, but it affected Astoria the worst. She'd likely only live to her twenties, if she was lucky."
Nodding, Harry produced three vials, filled with the cure, and handed them to her.
"Send them as soon as you can. There's no real limit, but the longer the curse remains in you, the worse the purging will be. Since the caster of the curse is, I presume, long dead, once your parents take the potion, then the curse will be purged from the Greengrass family. And keep an eye on your sister for the day. She might still be feeling the effects of the potion, and make a few emergency trips to the bathroom."
Nodding, she took the vials from Harry and got ready to leave. Before she did, she turned back to Harry, walked up to him, and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you, Harry Potter. You've saved my sister, and my children, from a terrible fate. I'll never be able to repay this." With that, she turned and left, leaving a stunned Harry, a pouting Myrtle, and a chuckling Tracey.
"I have to admit, I've never seen that side of Daphne. You realize, of course, if you ever tell anyone she did that..."
"She'll freeze my ass off. I've heard how she earned her 'Ice Queen' nickname."
Grinning, Tracey nodded at Harry but then became serious.
"As she said, you saved her sister and she's my best friend. I'm a half-blood, so I get a lot of grief in Slytherin. If you ever need anything from either of us..."
"Actually, there is something you can do for me. I noticed that the dynamic in Slytherin has changed since last year. When Malfoy confronted me about his father, some of his friends seemed eager to leave. What's that about?"
"The trials exposed more than a few skeletons in the closet, especially for our House. Goyle and Parkinson are horrified by their parent's past actions and want less to do with Malfoy because of it. He's also lost his big threat of 'my father will hear about this.' Most of the House just didn't want to cross Lord Malfoy, not when he had the Minister's ear."
"And with him being Kissed, that caused his influence to take a hit?"
"More than a hit. Only the hardcore blood supremacists are sticking by him, while others are rallying behind Daphne, not in support of you, but in the mantra of staying out of your way. Expect to have some Slytherins cheering you on for this, Harry. If there's one thing every Slytherin will do, it's protect our families."
With that, she sauntered off to find her friend, leaving Harry alone to ponder this information.
Dinner finally arrived, and Harry, like the rest of the school, was curious. They'd heard the announcement that dinner attendance was mandatory, which only happened during Feasts, and important announcements from the staff.
Eventually, upon seeing the entire school had indeed arrived, McGonagall tapped three times on her glass.
"May I have your attention, students?"
When the students turned to the High Table, the other Heads of House stood along with McGonagall. With all eyes turned on them, the Heads of Houses did something even Harry didn't expect. The four of them cast some variant of 'Accio Potter Stinks Badges.'
When the students heard those words, those wearing the badges went pale, realizing they had been caught. That they were caught was made even worse by the fact they were now being publicly punished for it.
The spell had its intended effect, as badges from three Houses flew up to the High Table, and formed stacks in front of their corresponding Head of House. To the surprise of no one, Slytherin had the most badges, and Snape had a look on his face like he had drunk spoiled milk. To the surprise of many, Hufflepuff had the second-largest pile. It was nowhere near the size of the Slytherin pile, which had badges from nearly the entire House. For Hufflepuff, it was closer to a third of the House, while Ravenclaw had even fewer.
While internally relieved none of her Lions had partaken in this disgusting display, McGonagall showed none of it. All the school saw was the furious face of the Deputy Headmistress, along with an annoyed Snape, and an unhappy Flitwick and Sprout.
"Ten points will be taken for each badge from their respective Houses." Once Minerva said that, points began vanishing from the other Houses at record speed. While Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff lost a few hundred points, Slytherin lost so many it put them in the negative. Even if anyone cared, there was no chance of them winning the House Cup this year.
"I can tell many of you are surprised by this, believing that these disgusting badges were hidden from the staff. Well, their enchantments failed you in that regard. I know for a fact that Professor Sprout has told her students this, and Alastor and I told the entire school, but it seems I must reiterate: HARRY POTTER DID NOT PUT HIS NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE.
"Banish that thought from your minds students, as it is disgraceful that so many of you would turn on a fellow student, despite having the truth lain out to you over again. But do not think we are done." At that, she pulled out a wooden case and dropped it on the Table. It landed with a hard Thud. No one could look away from the scene unfolding, but several gasped at the sight of the case.
"This is a rune-carving kit, found in the same classroom that these badges were carved in. I would ask the students responsible for them to step forward before I tell them to step forward."
While Minerva only had an idea of who was responsible, she didn't know the exact students, or how many besides Malfoy. But her tone worked, convincing the students she already knew who was guilty, and offering them a chance to save themselves. Four Ravenclaw students, all sixth-years, stepped forward.
"Explain yourselves, now."
"A-about a week ago, Draco Malfoy approached us, offering to pay us for some rune-carving work. We initially agreed, but once we learned what he wanted us to do, we tried to turn him down. We knew Harry wasn't a cheat like you said, and didn't want to help Malfoy ridicule him. He raised the price a few times, but we eventually agreed to his fee."
"I see then. Professor Flitwick, as they are your students, I will leave their punishment in your hands."
By the end of dinner, it was decided that the Ravenclaws responsible for the badges would serve a week's detention, as would Malfoy, but he would get the added humiliation of having his mother notified of how he was spending his money.
By the time dinner ended, Minerva was feeling quite satisfied. The badges were gone, the bullies were cowed, and she could feel the eyes of her House upon her. But they weren't looking at her as the Deputy Headmistress or their disciplinarian. They were looking at her as a leader, a protector. Someone that would stand for them against the tide.
'Once again, I am the Lioness of Gryffindor.'
Notes:The Lioness is back everybody! The other Houses better watch their step!
Thank you to everyone that voted in the poll. As of now, I will no longer be accepting any additional votes and will be tallying them up to find the winner.
More chapters in spechify up to ch 39