Chapter 29: Bad BadgersSummary:Hufflepuff isn't happy about Hazel stealing Cedric's thunder, and two particular brutes aren't shy about making their feelings known.
Chapter TextShe had vague and uneasy dreams that night, which were ominous, but lacking that particular je ne sais quoithat visions of Voldemort had. She was slow to get ready, not quite up for facing the rest of the school; the Hufflepuffs were sure to have it out for her, for stealing the spotlight from their golden boy Cedric, and the Gryffindors would likely be unpleasant too just on principle.
It didn't help that Snape approached her after breakfast either, a sheaf of parchment in his hand. "Now that you are a Champion, your course load will be unsustainable," he said, pushing the sheet into her hands. "You must drop at least three classes by the end of the day."
"What?" she replied, staring at the parchment. It appeared to be a form authorizing immediate dismissal from the classes described herein, and had already been signed by Snape and Dumbledore. The spaces for which classes were being dismissed were blank. "Professor, you can't expect me to-"
"The Headmaster has authorized you to drop core classes, if necessary," he went on, cutting her off. "It will not count against your academic progress, I assure you."
She was already exempt from end-of-year exams, she remembered. She shook her head and sighed. "Just a second." She tapped the sheaf with her wand so it would hover stiffly in midair, then drew one of her self-inking quills and filled it out. Astronomy, History of Magic, and Muggle Studies. "I'll have to apologize to Professor Burbage," she muttered, handing the sheaf back.
"You had already considered dropping classes," he replied, accepting it. "I had expected you to put more consideration into the choice."
"Yeah, well, I did that already. Can I go now?" He stood aside without further comment, and she went on her way.
She had expected the badgers to dislike her, but the depth of that dislike caught her off guard. Crabbe and Goyle were the worst, of course, and this time they had more of the House behind them; the first time she was caught off guard, the two yellow-clad boys coming at her while someone else jinxed her from behind, knocking her over and spilling all her books.
"Get back here, you assholes!" she shouted, scrambling to get back up and gather her things.
But they were gone, of course, and a Hufflepuff prefect was there instead, looking very smug indeed. "Five points from Slytherin for language, Potter," he snarled, "and if I catch you swearing again I'll see to it you get detention in the greenhouses!"
"Ooh, threaten me with a good time," she replied, pausing to flip him off before going back to getting her stuff together.
That wiped the smug look off his face. "Five more points from Slytherin! Disrespect will not be tolerated in these halls!"
"You know the funny thing about respect?" she asked, finally having all her stuff gathered back up. "It has to be earned. And strutting around like a peacock won't get you a whole lot of respect around here." She turned her back on him and walked off, trying to focus on her next class.
Naturally she heard about it in Herbology. Or more accurately, she heard about it after Herbology. "I've had some disturbing reports about your behavior in the hallways, Miss Potter," Professor Sprout began, her demeanor just a bit frosty. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Hazel sighed. "It was Crabbe and Goyle, ma'am, they pretended to attack me and then someone cursed me from behind, knocking me over and making me spill my books. Then one of your prefects took points off for yelling!"
"Those two." Sprout shook her head. "Cedric has done his best to be a good role model for them, and by all accounts they do mind themselves. Except with you, Potter."
Hazel could only shrug. "I have no idea, I've never doneanything to them. Well, not that I- ugh, you know what I mean."
Apparently she did, for she moved on without comment. "We had a House meeting about that night, where I asked everyone to leave you alone, but apparently it didn't stick. They'll never leave detention at this rate."
"Who've they had detention with, anyway?" Hazel asked.
"Either myself or the caretaker, why?"
"See if Professor Snape would agree to take over their detentions," she suggested, feigning innocence.
"That would certainly drive the point," Sprout mused. "I'll find out exactly who was involved in this incident and make sure Severus knows exactly why they're stuck with him. In the meantime, Potter, you were still disrespectful to a prefect, so five points from Slytherin."
"Yes ma'am." She knew very well she had a temper and a dirty mouth, and she doubted all the points in the world would fix it, but now wasn't the time.
Now much less frosty than before, Sprout smiled and waved her along. Hazel nodded and stood to leave, though she kept her wand handy on the way to her next class.
After Runes class, Hazel went up to Professor Babbling. "Professor, you said that carving our wands was a NEWT level thing, but could you make an exception for me this once?"
"Because of the Tournament?" Babbling sighed. "I suppose you will need an advantage, Miss Potter. But I warn you, it will require a considerable amount of extra homework, and I will not allow you to even attempt until you have reached a certain level of proficiency. It may well take you months, if not the rest of the year."
Not what she wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing. "Whatever you think is necessary, Professor, thank you." She bowed and left the room, eager to get started.
On Friday, Snape again waved her aside after breakfast. "Later today, the Tournament judges will convene to weigh the Champions' wands," he told her in a low voice. "I expect you will be pulled from your final class. I suggest you make sure your wand is clean and polished before then."
"Yes sir, thank you sir." She gave him a bow and kept going, wondering what went on during a wand weighing.Would they literally weigh the wands? She drew hers and examined it carefully; it did seem smudged a bit, didn't it? Luckily she had a free period that day, so she went down to her dorm and spent it cleaning and polishing her wand.
That made a difference, she realized. She hadn't paid enough attention to it lately, and weirdly enough felt bad about that; but she liked the way it looked now that years of grime had been wiped away. The silver fixtures gleamed and the fiery patterns of the wood seemed to flicker; though, was it her imagination, or were the pale bits even paler than they had been before? She hoped that wasn't a sign.
Putting it out of her mind she went about her day, until finally Potions was interrupted by Colin Creevey edging his way inside. He grinned at Hazel and shuffled up to Snape's desk. "Please, sir, I was sent to bring Hazel upstairs, sir."
"Very well." His eyes flicked to Hazel. "Make sure you have all your things, Potter."
"Yes sir." She did indeed have her things, and her wand was in its holster. "Let's go then, Colin."
"Isn't it amazing, Hazel?" the weedy boy said as soon as the door shut behind them. "You being Champion and everything!"
"I suppose it is." She couldn't help but smirk. "You think they'll want pictures too?"
"Oh, I hope so! Take some good ones if they do!" he babbled excitedly. Did he ever do anything not excitedly, though?
"How're your classes this year, anyway?"
"Oh, they're great! I'm doing really well in Potions, Professor Snape hardly ever says anything about my work! Charms is really fun and so is Herbology!"
"What electives did you pick?"
"Oh! I went with Care of Magical Creatures, of course! And then I sort of flipped a coin 'cause none of the others sounded good and I wound up in Arithmancy, which is kinda boring but Professor Vector is nice enough I guess!"
A door opened behind them and Ludo Bagman's head appeared. "Ah, Mr Creevey, where're you going with our fourth Champion, then?" he called, grinning.
"Oh shoot, I got distracted! Sorry, Mr Bagman sir! Good luck Hazel!"
Hazel walked in behind Bagman, and saw a small classroom devoid of any desks. Instead there was a table covered in velvet, with five chairs behind it. The other three Champions were here already; Krum standing in a corner and glaring moodily at everyone else, Fleur and Cedric talking to each other.
Standing near one end of the table was a tall witch in tight magenta robes, with tightly curled blonde hair and jeweled glasses. She had sharp blue eyes that darted here and there, and she was muttering in a low voice to a paunchy wizard in dirty robes, who himself was clutching a large, smoking camera and staring avidly at Fleur, who in turn appeared to enjoy the attention if the way she kept tossing her hair was any indication.
"Champion number four, ladies and gentlemen!" Bagman announced. "Everyone settle down now, we still need the other judges, AND our expert for today!"
"Hang on, what's a wand weighing anyway?" Hazel interjected, glaring up at him.
"Nothing strenuous, I assure you! The judges merely want to make sure your wands are functional, that's all," he replied, in what he probably thought was a reassuring tone of voice, but to Hazel it was just annoying. "We also have Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet! And her photographer, ah-"
"Call me Bozo," the paunchy wizard mumbled.
"Since the others are taking their time, perhaps I could get a word alone with Hazel?" Rita asked, fixing Bagman with a flirty smile. "The fourth and youngest Champion, and all that!"
"If Hazel herself doesn't mind, of course!" he replied, smiling back at them both.
"Not at all," Hazel replied, smiling at Rita.
"Lovely!" Rita gestured ahead, and Hazel noticed that she had long, vicious-looking red nails, except on the index and middle fingers of her right hand. Reassured by the sight, she led the way out into the hall, and ducked into another disused classroom.
"I've heard all about you, you know," Hazel said before Rita could get a word out. "From Narcissa Malfoy."
"Dear Cissy," Rita replied fondly. "Yes, she mentioned you as well. Told me to play nice with you." She drew a long, acid-green quill from her crocodile-skin bag and sucked on the end. "This won't take long, I just want to establish a few basic facts."
"Go on then."
"Lovely." She charmed a piece of parchment to hover in midair and set the Quill atop it, point down and ready to take notes. "So! What made you decide to enter the Tournament?"
"I didn't enter," Hazel corrected sharply. "Someone put my name in the Goblet without my knowledge."
"And no one knows who did it, I'd imagine," the reporter said dreamily.
"Nope, nor do they seem in any hurry to find out who it was," she said. "Maybe you could do something about that?"
"Maybe I could!" The green Quill wrote faster than ever, but the angle was wrong for Hazel to see what it was writing. "How do you feel about the tasks ahead? Excited, nervous?"
Hazel shrugged. "I don't feel anything, really. I mean, I dunno what they are yet, do I?"
Apparently that wasn't what Rita wanted to hear, because she frowned slightly. "Champions have died in the past, you know, does that bother you at all?"
"No, it doesn't. Why should it? If they died, they weren't good enough. I'm gonna be good enough!" Where those words came from, she didn't know, but once she said them her resolve hardened; she would be good enough, mystery badmen be damned.
"Oh? You think you'll win, you'll come out on top and take that Triwizard Cup home for yourself?"
"I'm gonna give it my best shot," she replied. "I never asked for this, but I'll be damned if I take it lying down!"
"Our readers will love that resolve," the reporter said. "You've looked death in the face before, haven't you? How has that affected you?"
"How should I know?" Hazel shrugged helplessly. "This year won't be any different, I suppose. Every year in this damn school seems to bring some new disaster or other. I dunno who I was fooling, thinking this year would be any different!"
"So stoic in the face of lethal danger!" she said admiringly. "So young to be caught up in the schemes of others, yet determined to forge ahead all the same!"
"Ugh, enough with the flattery already," and she rolled her eyes.
"It's just part of the job, dear," Rita said, winking. "Just a few more questions now. Do you remember your parents at all?"
"Only in dreams," she said, and as she said it, she realized she hadn't had any nightmares of that night in so long she couldn't recall the last time.
"How do you think they'd feel about all this Tournament stuff?" she pressed. "Proud? Worried, angry?"
"I really hope they'd be furious beyond belief," Hazel said firmly. "Furious, and pushing for answers. Because, didn't I mention? I didn't-"
"Yes yes, you didn't put your name in the Goblet of Fire." Rita waved her hand dismissively. "You must have suspicions, no? If it wasn't you, then who?"
This was her chance! She cleared her throat. "I think Vold-"
The door swung open before she could finish her sentence, though, revealing Professor Dumbledore. "Might I have my Champion back, Miss Skeeter?" he asked politely, eyes twinkling.
"Dumbledore!" Rita cried delightedly, as the parchment and Quill disappeared and she shut her handbag with a sharp click. "Lovely to see you again! I hope you caught my piece I wrote over the summer? About the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
"Enchantingly nasty, as usual." His eyes twinkled even more. "Fascinating though your opinion of me as an 'obsolete dingbat' may be, we shall have to debate its accuracy later. The other judges have convened and the Weighing of the Wands cannot begin without all our Champions in attendance."
"So sorry." She didn't sound remotely sorry, of course. "After you, my dear!"
Hazel proceeded out the door and back into the other classroom, where the other judges had taken seats behind the velvet table: Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff, Mr Crouch and Bagman. The other Champions were also seated, and Hazel slipped into the last one, next to Cedric. Out the corner of her eye she saw Rita take a seat in the corner and set up her Quill and parchment again; Bozo was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter 30: Your Wand is Thicc AFSummary:aka the Weighing of the Wands
Who has the thiccest wand? Is there a correlation between this and who will eventually go home naked and hungover? Probably not.
Chapter Text"May I introduce Mr Garrick Ollivander?" Dumbledore was saying as he took his seat behind the table. "He is Britain's most experienced wand-maker, and he will evaluate the wands of our Champions today, to ensure they will be ready for the tasks ahead."
He gestured to the window, and Hazel saw frail old Mr Ollivander waiting there, protuberant gray eyes roving from face to face. At the introduction he paced forward, his steps making no noise at all. "Mademoiselle Delacour, if you would?" he asked in his quiet, papery voice.
Fleur stood up and flounced across to the old wizard, offering her wand. He took it and twirled it about his fingers like a baton, then held it up to his eyes, examining every inch. "Hmm. Ten inches, rosewood, inflexible… is this a veela hair?"
"One of my grandmother's, yes," Fleur confirmed. So she was part-veela, at least…
"Mm, veela hair isn't something I use myself, I find it makes for temperamental wands. But to each her own." He checked for bumps or cracks, then flicked it and muttered, "Orchideous!" and summoned a bouquet of flowers. "Very well, your wand is in fine working order, my dear." He scooped up the bouquet and gave it back to Fleur alongside her wand, and she smiled as she returned to her seat.
"Mr Krum, you next, please." Krum rose to his feet and slouched across the room, thrusting his wand at Ollivander and standing there, awkwardly scowling, hands in the pockets of his robes.
The old man paid no heed to his attitude, however, and proceeded with his minute examination. "Old Mykew made this, I presume?" he asked, and Krum grunted. "Hm. A fine wand-maker indeed, rumor has it that he- well, nevermind." He cleared his throat and examined it some more. "Eleven inches, hornbeam and dragon heartstring, thicker than normal and quite rigid-"
"Hurry up!" Krum growled under his breath, clearly uncomfortable at seeing his wand being handled by someone else. Karkaroff scowled, but Krum paid no heed.
"I'm only doing my job, Mr Krum," Ollivander said apologetically, turning toward the window. "Rodensortia Tria!" Three large black rats erupted out the tip and dashed along the floor; Fleur barely had time to scream before a second wave of the wand banished the rats. "There we are. Your wand is also in fine form."
Krum snatched it back and returned to his seat, muttering obscenities under his breath. No one paid him any heed, though. "Mr Diggory, your wand, if you would."
"Certainly, sir." Cedric seemed determined to be extra pleasant, as if that would make up for Krum's bad attitude, and offered his wand with a smile. "I polished it just last night."
"Yes, I can see you've taken very good care of it. A craftsman is always pleased to see his own creations well cared for." Ollivander examined the wand like he had the others, twirling it between his fingers and holding it up to his eyes. "Twelve and a half inches, unicorn hair, pleasantly springy ash. This particular unicorn nearly gored me as I was plucking his tail, in fact, he was an especially fine specimen."
"You said as much when Mum and I were buying it, sir," Cedric said with a laugh.
After a few more moments, Ollivander twitched the wand and said, "Nebulus Argentus!" Thick silvery fog bubbled forth, and a second movement blew it out the window. "Very good, very good."
Cedric took his wand back with a bow, and Hazel was already standing up. "Ah, Miss Potter. We meet again."
"Yes sir." She crossed the room and held out her wand. "Polished it earlier today, I did."
"Hm." He seemed to examine it more closely than the others, especially the gems and silver addons he had installed himself last summer, and she wondered what he was looking for. "Fourteen inches, elder and phoenix feather, rigid and unyielding." At the mention of elder, everyone turned to look; even Krum was roused from his grouchy fugue to ogle at the rare wand. "Equally suited for light magic and the Dark Arts, and you've certainly done both, quite powerfully if I'm any judge."
Dumbledore shifted slightly in his seat; behind her, she could hear Rita's Quill scribbling faster and louder. Hazel dearly hoped he wouldn't mention the truth of the phoenix feather core, that its 'brother' resided in Voldemort's wand of yew…
But he did no such thing, and after another silent moment he stood up straighter and cleared his throat. "Expecto Patronum!" he called, and in a burst of silver light a large fox appeared, bounding silently around the room before settling at its master's feet. Ollivander reached down to pat its head before dismissing it, and handed the wand back to Hazel. "Still in perfect condition, Miss Potter."
"Thank you sir." That had been more than a little unsettling, she decided as she hurried back to her seat. "Sir, while you're here, I-"
Someone loudly cleared their throat behind her, and she jumped slightly, turning to see Bozo the photographer had reappeared. "Photographs, photographs!" Bagman insisted, bounding to his feet. "Everyone at once, right, Rita?"
"Certainly," Rita replied, not looking at Hazel. "With some individual shots afterward, of course!"
Taking all the necessary pictures took a while. The biggest hurdle was Madame Maxime; while standing she put everyone else in her shadow, and Bozo couldn't move back far enough to get her in the frame. "Er, can ya siddown please, Madame?" he asked apologetically, and that sorted her out.
Krum kept wanting to hide in the back row, when Hazel would have thought he'd be used to having his picture taken. Bozo insisted on having Fleur up front, but Rita wanted Hazel at the center of attention; eventually they both stood there, which sucked because Hazel had to look at the camera instead of Fleur. Then they had to put up with individual shots, and Krum's patience ran out.
"I will not!" he insisted, turning on his heel to march for the door. "I am not some dog to be trotted about on command!"
"Viktor, please, just one photograph," Karkaroff said soothingly, trying to bring his charge back into the room. Krum muttered under his breath in his native tongue, but came back into the room, where he refused to look at the camera and stormed away again the moment Bozo's camera went off.
"Psh, better in profile anyway," the cameraman muttered. "C'mon up then, missy."
Fleur smirked for the camera and posed so that her chest was thrust out, and Cedric just stood there grinning bashfully; when it was Hazel's turn she couldn't stop giggling, and she didn't even know what was so funny.
Finally they were released, and Hazel made straight for the Great Hall to catch dinner. She was starving! Sadly she was intercepted at the doors. "Miss Potter, you have visitors in my office," Snape said, in an annoyed tone. "I will have dinner sent down there."
"It's not Sirius, is it?" she asked.
"It is, unfortunately," he replied. "Do make haste, he brought Lupin with him and I do not wish to spend all night cleaning dog hair."
Hazel hurried down to Snape's office, cringing on the inside at the thought of facing her godfather. She could only imagine what sort of mood he was in; if her parents were pissed off, in her imagination at least, how angry would Sirius be?
When she walked into the room, she saw Lupin sitting down and Sirius pacing back and forth. "Hazel!" he cried, hurrying over. "Merlin's beard, what the hell happened?"
"Damned if I know," she replied, enduring his crushing hug and his minute examination. "It's been a lot of shit though, I know that much."
"Let her go, Sirius," Lupin called. "Hazel, please sit down and tell us about it."
Sirius let her go, and she went to sit down; as she did so a tray full of her favorite foods appeared on Snape's desk, along with three sets of tableware. "Well, it was like this," and she told them about the events of the week, starting with the night the Champions were chosen.
When she got to the part about the seal on her core being loosened, the two men exchanged a look. "That's one way of catching you up with the other Champions," Lupin said thoughtfully. "The first Task is on the 26th, you said?"
"That's what Mr Crouch said, yes," she replied.
"Fucking Barty," Sirius growled. "He was Head of DMLE during Voldemort's rise in the Seventies, and he didn't hold back. Aurors and Hit Wizards were allowed to use the Unforgivables against Death Eaters, and any who survived got thrown straight into Azkaban without a trial!"
Hazel shrugged. "Well, when your enemies are using nasty Dark Arts on you without any qualms, it's kinda stupid not to go all out in reply. Taking the high road probably feels great, right up until you're dead."
"Yes, well, tactics aside," Lupin said quickly, before Sirius could let his outrage get the best of him, "Barty was all set up to be elected Minister in the aftermath of the war, precisely because he handled it so brutally. But a war hero doesn't do so well in peacetime, and once people calmed down they realized they didn't want a man like him in power, so he lost his challenge against Bagnold and eventually got shunted into International Cooperation."
"Well, that's great and all, but Voldemort's back," she told them. "You know I kept having visions of him all summer, right? Of him and Wormtail and Lockhart and Lucius Malfoy? They're out there plotting right now, and somehow they put my name in the Goblet and now I'm Champion!"
"Dumbledore brought old Mad-Eye out of retirement, so at least he's taking it seriously," Sirius said, as if Moody being brought in settled the matter. At her skeptical look, he just laughed. "He might be a paranoid old bastard, Hazel, but there's no one better at sniffing out the plots of Dark wizards than he is. Not to mention he's a powerful warlock in his own right."
"I guess you'd have to be to survive as long as he has," Hazel replied, shrugging. "I still don't like him, he's a real asshole to me and my friends."
Sirius started to say something, but yelped instead; the sharp thump from beneath the desk told her Lupin had possibly stamped on his foot. "You're safe at Hogwarts, Hazel, you know that. Just keep your head down and focus on training yourself up for the Tasks, and don't be afraid to reach out if you need help," Lupin said.
"Right." She focused on eating then, on making sandwiches and washing them down with lots of milk. "I'm still sore about Quidditch being canceled, but they're letting us practice at least. The dueling club is also fun, and I spoke to Rita Skeeter earlier-"
"What? You didn't!"
"I did!" she laughed. "It was fun, but I didn't say nearly as much as I wanted to!"
"Ugh." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Kiddo, you gotta be careful with her, anything you say or even what you don't say will be twisted around against you!"
"No, it's fine, Narcissa spoke to her and she's gonna be nice to me." With the obvious threat of Narcissa being mean to her in turn, if she wasn't nice to Hazel. She thought.
"Even so, don't take her lightly," Lupin cautioned. "And don't- well, I mean…"
"Don't dip my fingers in her pot, I get it," and it was her turn to roll her eyes. "I'm not even of age yet! Perverts, stay out of my love life!"
They all laughed at that, even though it wasn't really all that funny. Not to Hazel anyway. She finished eating and washed the last of her food down with more milk, then stood. "It's getting late, I need to go do homework."
"Of course." Lupin rose and took her hand in both of his. "Let us know the moment you learn what the Task is, we'll do our best to help out."
"Yeah, don't wait around for them to tell you, you need every advantage you can get," Sirius added, clapping her on the shoulder.
"Right." She left Snape's office and went straight to the common room, where she finished her homework and got ready for bed.
When she led her team onto the Quidditch pitch the following Saturday, she was surprised to find Cedric and the Hufflepuffs walking out as well. "Cedric? What's going on here?"
"What can I say? The team wanted to get out on the field," he replied, shrugging. He had his Head Boy badge on next to his Captain's badge, she noticed. "And we've got to let a couple new players try their luck against the best team in the school."
He gestured back, and Hazel groaned; Crabbe and Goyle were standing back there too, brandishing Beater's bats and looking quite smug. Their robes were a size too small, but that just emphasized how large they'd become. She scowled at them and stalked up to Cedric, flicking her wand to cast a Muffling Charm so they wouldn't be overheard. "What's really going on here, Diggory? You know those two and the rest of your House have it out for me!"
"I know, okay, I know, but I was outvoted in a team meeting yesterday," he replied in a low voice. "I told them if you beat us they'd have to leave you alone for the rest of the year, or I'd make sure they never played Quidditch again while they were at Hogwarts."
She was pretty sure that wouldn't put Crabbe and Goyle off their little campaign, but whatever. "Those two must have improved a lot to make it onto the team," and she nodded at them.
"They have, actually! I was really impressed, and after what I told them before I kind of backed myself into a corner about letting them on," he admitted sheepishly. "Maybe their minds are in a bad place, but their hearts are alright."
"Huh. No offense, but I'll believe that when I see it." She dismissed the charm and stepped back, hitching a fake sneer on her face. "New team or not, Diggory, we're not going easy on you! Better get ready to lose!"
"I could say the same to you, Potter!" he jeered back, catching on quick.
A sharp whistle drew everyone's attention, and they all looked to see Madam Hooch stepping onto the field, accompanied by Professors Sprout and Snape. "You think we wouldn't hear about this little grudge match?" she asked rhetorically. "This might not be an official match but I still want a fair game!" The badgers seemed cowed by the presence of both professors, and nodded glumly. "Right then! Captains, shake hands!"
Hazel and Cedric shook hands, and the rest of the team climbed on their brooms.
"Up in the air, let's go!" Hooch kicked the trunk open and the four balls launched themselves skyward, and the teams swarmed up after them!
As Hazel had expected, Crabbe and Goyle were determined to pelt her with the Bludgers, and to her surprise they were pretty good at it! She had to push her Firebolt to its limits to evade them, and even Millicent had trouble keeping up. "They had to have taken private lessons over the summer," she said to herself at one point, hovering above the fray to keep one eye on her team and the other swiveling about for the Snitch.
In spite of Cedric and the two thugs, the Slytherin Chasers racked up a healthy lead before she was able to scoop up the Snitch, after a tense dive and neck-to-neck chase of course. Hooch blew her whistle and the two Professors clapped politely, and Hazel noticed they were quick to bring the Bludgers back before anyone could get any funny ideas.
"Well played, all of you," Hooch called as everyone landed. "I expect this will settle whatever grudge there is?"
Everyone stared at Crabbe and Goyle, who shuffled their feet and glared at Hazel but had no choice. "Yes ma'am, we'll let it go," one of them muttered.
"Speak up, boy!" Hooch barked.
"I said we'll let it go! We'll leave Potter alone!" he snapped.
"Make sure you do," Sprout cut in. "Enough roughhousing, each team to either end for your drills and things."
"I cannot award a trophy, but I believe some points would suffice," Snape said. "Forty points to Slytherin for a well-fought victory."
"Thank you sir." Hazel and Cedric shook hands again, and went to either end of the pitch, their teams trailing behind. "That felt good, didn't it guys?"
"Hell yeah," Millicent agreed. "I didn't figure those two ogres could actually play though, did you?"
"I sure didn't. Whatever, let's fly!"
Chapter 31: Exclusive InterviewSummary:The first Task draws ever closer, but the drama won't let off.
Chapter TextDueling club on Sunday was different, as Hazel learned when she saw Professor Burbage waiting to oversee. She winced, but walked up to her. "Professor, I'm sorry for dropping your class," she began.
"Oh, no worries, Miss Potter, I quite understand," Burbage replied, smiling brightly. "You have quite a lot of preparation to consider, after all!"
"Yes ma'am." Her smile didn't do much for the guilt bubbling about, though. "I promise I'll take your class again next year, I've been reading ahead and I can tell that's when the excitement starts!"
"It certainly does. And speaking of excitement!" Burbage clapped her hands and got everyone's attention. "Let's go back to the basics for a short while, shall we? We've some new faces in the crowd and I'd hate for anyone to fall behind! Line up and show me your best Disarming Charm, everyone!"
That was an easy one, for sure, and Hazel had no trouble knocking Draco off his feet with the force of her spellwork. It was a test of her reflexes to stand still and let him respond, of course, and she wasn't a fan of being knocked backwards either.
After a few exchanges Burbage called for a halt. "Okay, next I'd like the older students to work on moderating the spell's power. Expelliarmus doesn't just disarm your opponent, as you've seen; for some of you it can knock them backward, or even clear off their feet, depending on how hard the spell hits. But sometimes you don't want to attack with all your strength at once."
Moderation, eh? "How would that work, Professor?" Hazel asked.
"Mr Diggory, if you would join me on the stage?" Burbage asked, stepping up herself. "I am going to cast a Disarming Charm at you, and I want you to use a Shield Charm to block it."
"Yes ma'am," he replied, stepping onto the stage and raising his wand.
The professor waited a moment to be sure everyone was watching, then flicked her wand. "Expelliarmus!" she cried, sending a jet of red light at Cedric. He cast a Shield Charm, but it failed to block the spell; it shattered into shards of light, and the red jet slammed into his chest! He flew through the air and skidded to a stop at the edge of the stage!
Some of the girls in the crowd booed, but there was more clapping and cheering to drown them out. Cedric rose to his feet easily enough, brushing himself off and retrieving his wand. "I've never seen a Disarm so strong, Professor Burbage," he said admiringly.
"Yes, well, I was an Auror after all," she replied simply. "Now, shall we try it again?" This time Cedric's shield held, and a third demonstration showed his wand fly from his hand and into the professor's as she cast the charm.
The revelation that their Muggle Studies teacher had been an Auror, not to mention capable of casting a Disarming Charm that could shatter a shield, set the crowd to murmuring, though Hazel wasn't surprised. But how to moderate her own power?
Burbage wasn't done, apparently. "Magic runs off intention and emotion," she explained, crossing the stage to return Cedric's wand. "If you are angry and you intend to hurt someone, even the simplest spell will be overblown to a degree. Conversely, if you don't truly wish to harm them, you may find your magic constrained. Give it a try!"
Intention and emotion, eh. "You go first, Draco," she called, steeling herself to be attacked. Draco narrowed his eyes in focus, and cast the spell at her; her wand flew out of her hand, but not fast enough for her Seeker's reflexes to snatch it back. When it was her turn she focused on Occlumency, figuring that would help control herself, and focused on how Draco was a friend and she didn't really wanna hurt him; the spell felt different as it launched, and his wand flew from his grasp.
"Interesting. This'll make it easier to duel with the younger students," she said, handing the wand back to Draco. And it was a way to use Occlumency during a fight! Though she wondered if maybe it'd be a good idea to try the other way, to deliberately overcharge her magic. Then she realized that might not work as long as her power was sealed off, and frowned.
The next day she got her copy of the Daily Prophet, and to her surprise saw her own face on the front page. TRIWIZARD DISASTER IN THE MAKING! the headline blared. UNDERAGE GIRL-WHO-LIVED FORCED TO COMPETE!
"This is gonna be good," she muttered, breakfast forgotten as she read the article:
The secrecy surrounding the infamous Triwizard Tournament has turned sour, reports Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. The name of none other than our very own Girl Who Lived, fourteen-year-old Hazel Potter, was submitted to the so-called Goblet of Fire, and of course it came out! How did this happen? Who was responsible? How did they circumvent the protections arranged by all five of the Tournament's judges?
It was easily determined that Hazel Potter did not submit her own name. "No way it was her," remarked a Ravenclaw lad who wished to remain anonymous. "I saw her face before she threw up all over my robes, she was as shocked as any of us. And like, yeah, she's not shy of a little attention, but this is too much!" It was later confirmed that Potter's name was submitted alongside that of a Russian school of magic known as Koldovstoretz, or "Cold Storage" as Potter herself complained more than once.
Potter herself was surprisingly nonchalant about the whole affair: "This year won't be any different, I suppose?" she said, striking green eyes flashing from beneath heavy black lashes. "Every year in this damn school seems to bring some new disaster or other. I dunno who I was fooling, thinking this year would be any different!" One must question the direction Hogwarts is taking under the guidance of its current Headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, if the students are consistently placed in such danger that even Hazel Potter can only shrug and bear it.
Readers, we must ask ourselves. Who would dare risk the life of the Girl Who Lived? Who would have motive and opportunity? We cannot say for certain, not yet, however we must recall the various scandals the unfortunate girl has been unwittingly caught up in: the events surrounding the release of a BASILISK at Hogwarts, and the undeniable involvement of Lord Lucius Malfoy, and even before that, the death of Quirinus Quirrell under circumstances that have yet to be explained to anyone's satisfaction. Is Lord Malfoy out for revenge? Even as his life falls apart around him, is he seeking retribution on the girl who supposedly saved his own son and inspired his innocent, hard-working wife to leave him?
The behavior of the Hufflepuffs cannot be discounted either. Many of them were understandably displeased by what they saw as a betrayal of their own Champion, Cedric Diggory, whose name came out of the Goblet before Potter's. Two in particular have taken it to extremes: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, allegedly children of Death Eaters and bound for Slytherin in their first year. Do they perhaps blame Potter for being placed in Hufflepuff instead? Is the shame and disgrace of their Slytherin-aligned families driving them to such despicable lengths in search of revenge? Why hasn't the Head of Hufflepuff, Herbology Professor Pomona Sprout, done more to discourage this than hand down detentions and deduct points?
Clearly our Champions have more to deal with than the Tournament itself. Fleur Delacour represents Beauxbatons, and international Quidditch superstar Viktor Krum is the chosen of Durmstrang. Photographs of the Champions and judges can be found on page 6.
It could have been worse, she supposed. Though she had to wonder how Rita had gotten some of those details. Who had she spoken to? Who were her moles? At least the photos were flattering; Bozo had even managed to make Krum look good, though she wasn't sure how. She put the paper aside and focused on breakfast.
The next few weeks went by in a blur, and Hazel was frustrated; even with all the free time she had now that three classes were cut out of her schedule, she was busier than ever, trying to prepare for an unknown Task and keep up with her schoolwork too, not to mention trying to cram years of Runes into six months. When she passed Cedric in the halls he looked pale and nervous, but he didn't seem to let it get him down so much, and he always managed to smile when he saw her. And she wasn't sure if it was the game or the Skeeter article, but Crabbe and Goyle's antics had finally relented, so that was a success.
The weekend before the Task there was a Hogsmeade visit, and Hazel went down to the village with a spring in her step, happy to get out of the school for a while. Today she only had Luna and Hermione; Ron was being a prat about the whole Champion thing, and Hazel didn't want to put up with that from her friends.
"It's nice to get out of the castle for a while," she said, breathing in the sharp mountain air as they approached the gates. "And away from all the prats!"
"I think some of the prats followed us," Hermione said, side-eying a group of Hufflepuffs who hissed expletives at them while passing by. She scowled and flipped them the bird, and they hurried onward.
"Cheer up, Hazel, the ones who count are on your side," Luna said, squeezing her hand.
"True." They entered the village and went straight for the Three Broomsticks, finding good seats by the fire and ordering butterbeers. "Ugh, I wanna know what the Task is gonna be, I hate not knowing what to plan for!"
"No one does, but isn't that part of the challenge? Responding to sudden dangers?" Hermione replied.
"That doesn't mean I- oh!" Hazel cut herself off at the sight of Rita Skeeter and her cameraman Bozo. "Miss Skeeter! Miss Skeeter, over here!"
Rita heard her name and glanced over, saw Hazel and went straight for her. "Lovely to see you, my dear, but do call me Rita," she replied, sitting down. "Who are your friends?"
"This is my girlfriend, Luna Lovegood," Luna waved a bit but didn't say anything, "and this is my close friend Hermione Granger, she's better in class than I am!"
"You'd be just as good as me if you weren't so busy, Hazel," she said reprovingly. "Don't listen to her, Miss Skeeter, she's far too modest."
"Mm." Rita's glance darted from one face to another, and her hands twitched. "Girlfriend, you said? I'd love to hear how that happened~"
"Is this an interview, Rita?" Their drinks came, and Hazel noticed Rita had been brought a firewhiskey without having to ask for anything. She must come around often, she figured.
"Only if you want it to be." Was it her imagination, or was the reporter a little sullen? 'Playing nice' must be eating into her bottom line, she reckoned.
Hazel looked at Hermione, who shrugged but looked unhappy, and then at Luna, who didn't react at all. "We can do an interview, I guess. Our last one got cut off a little, after all."
"Lovely!" She threw back a sip of firewhiskey and got her Quick-Quotes Quill set up. "So! Girlfriends! How'd this happen?"
"I'm not really sure, we just met one day and clicked together," Hazel said, shrugging. "I can't imagine life without her, you know?"
"She helped me with my trunk, and then we sat together on the train," Luna said dreamily. "Hazel's really strong, ask her to show you."
"Ooh, our readers love a strong woman," Rita teased. "Maybe later though, how did you and Miss Granger happen to meet?"
Hermione immediately launched into the story of their first year, from the moment they met on the train, and Hazel spaced out, adding a detail or an affirmation as necessary; mostly she was preoccupied with teasing Luna under the table. It wasn't until the tale reached the part where they learned it was Voldemort all along that she felt she had to step in: "...and that's when we learned it was Volde-"
"What?!" Rita gasped, spilling her drink; Bozo nearly dropped his camera from fright. "You-Know-Who was there?"
"Yes, he was, you can ask Draco if you like," Hazel cut in. "He'd possessed Quirrell at some point while he was on holiday in Ireland, and they both came back to England to steal the Philosopher's Stone. But apparently carrying the Dark Lord in the back of your head isn't good for you, so they were forced to hunt unicorns to try and drink their blood."
"How awful," Rita muttered, making a gesture with her fingers. "I imagine with the Stone so close they figured the risks of killing a unicorn were worthwhile, though?"
"Sounds about right. But that's not the worst part." Hazel sipped her drink to keep from drying out. "The night we found them actually drinking from a killed unicorn, Quirrell managed to grab Draco and put him under the Imperius Curse, and he and Voldemort forced him to help them get through the traps that guarded the Stone."
"No wonder Narcissa decided to divorce Lucius," Rita said thoughtfully. "How could a story like this have been silenced, though?"
"Dumbledore, probably," she replied simply. "Plus, it sounds a little unbelievable, don't you think? Also, if you're so close to Narcissa, wouldn't she have told you all this herself?"
Rita sighed and shook her head. "She told me everything except the part about You-Know-Who's involvement, and we twisted it to make Lucius look bad. And I'm not surprised his part was hushed up, people wouldn't like it."
"Well, there's more," Hazel said firmly. "So get a grip on your quill and listen." And she told Rita all about the dreams she'd had over the summer, and about her suspicions regarding the Tournament.
When she was done, Rita seemed stunned, and then skeptical. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't get it printed if I include a breath about You-Know-Who," she said apologetically. "Malfoy, Pettigrew and Lockhart, sure, anyone would believe two former Death Eaters and a conman could be trying to avenge their collective shame, and their master's death. I could even sell it as some half-baked scheme to bring him back to life! But I'd be the laughingstock of all England if I reported what you just told me."
Hazel sighed. "If you have to pin it all on Lucius, fine, as long as the Ministry gets off their arses and does something about it," she said firmly. "I'm just a student, and I've got to deal with this Tournament crap!"
"Yes, yes." Rita was lost in thought, no doubt planning her next exclusive. "Well, it was lovely chatting with you all, but I need to go! I'll put your drinks on my tab." She stood up, smacked Bozo across the back of his head, and strode for the stairs in the corner, the hapless old cameraman scrambling in her wake. Hazel guessed they had rooms up there, since she was reporting on the Tournament.
"Let's have another drink and then take off," Hazel decided.
Hardly had their drinks arrived but the door swung open, and Charlie appeared there. He looked around, saw them and went straight for their table. "Hazel, good." He came up behind her and leaned in. "Meet me down by Hagrid's hut tonight at eleven thirty, and bring yer Cloak," he said in a quick whisper. "Don't say nothing, just be there! And come alone!"
"Huh?" But he was already leaving again, headed for the bar. "What was that all about?"
"You should go, Hazel," Luna said seriously. "I feel like you'll learn something."
"Well, okay." She figured it was important, but it wasn't until tonight so she finished her drink before leaving.
Chapter 32: Nesting FemalesSummary:Holy shit, dragons!
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextAs a precaution, after dinner that evening she approached Snape as he was leaving the Hall. "Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?"
"In here," he replied, leading the way to an empty classroom. He checked it briefly and then shut the door. "What is it, Miss Potter?"
"Um, so, Professor Weasley wanted to see me tonight, after curfew," she began. "It sounded important, though I have no idea yet what he wants. But I think it might have to do with the Tournament?"
"I'm certain it does," he replied blandly. "Why tell me?"
"Because you're the most likely to catch me, and I'd rather you know ahead of time."
"Fair enough. Bring your Cloak, and I shall attempt to keep Moody occupied until you return."
"Thank you sir." She led the way out again, and went to the common room to do homework.
Later that night, at eleven, Hazel went up to her dorm, made sure she was alone and pulled an extra jumper over her head before pulling the Cloak of Invisibility out of her trunk, throwing it over her shoulders and heading out. She avoided everyone and hovered by the door, waiting for a minute.
Eventually it opened, and as Draco came in she slipped out around him. "Thanks," she murmured as they passed each other. On the way up she nearly ran into Snape as they went around the same corner, and was very glad she had warned him earlier. "Sir, it's me!"
"Potter." He was inscrutable as always. "Wait a moment, Moody is still wandering around upstairs. Come straight to my office when you're finished with Professor Weasley."
"Yes sir." He nodded and swept on by, and she waited a minute before resuming her trek upstairs.
Thankfully the entrance hall was empty, and the door unlocked. She slipped outside and crossed the grounds, thankful she had pulled another jumper on against the cold; heavy clouds were blocking the light of the moon overhead. At Hagrid's cabin she saw a light in the window, and knocked quietly. "It's me!" she whispered.
"Hazel, c'mon in," Hagrid muttered, opening the door. "Glad y' came, we 'ad ter show ya."
"Show me what, Hagrid?" she replied, slipping inside and lowering the hood of her Cloak.
"Wait for Cedric to come down," Charlie said quietly. "Dumbledore might take the high road but you can bet Maxime and Karkaroff are gonna look for every edge they can get for their schools. And it ain't right if Hogwarts is the only one going in blind."
"Hey, I don't mind cheating," she replied with a shrug. "Cedric might disagree, though."
"That's his problem." Hardly a minute later there was another knock, and Charlie opened it to allow Cedric inside. "Hey Ced. You practiced your Disillusionments like I told ya?"
"Yes sir." He reached up, tapped his own head and slowly turned filmy and transparent; Hazel could still see his outline, but if she hadn't known he was there, he'd just look like a shimmer of light. In the darkness he'd be as hard to see as she was. "What's this about, anyway?"
"Come on, all of ya." Charlie beckoned and left the hut, and after checking on Fang (who was sound asleep like a good boy), Hagrid left too. Hazel shrugged and followed along, raising her hood once more.
The two men moved quickly, and she had to hustle to keep up. They were skirting the edge of the forest, clearly not eager to be seen by anyone from the castle, or the Beauxbatons carriage. "They just arrived not an hour ago," Charlie said over his shoulder. "Hagrid and I have been hard pressed to arrange everything without alerting the others, but we're pretty sure we pulled it off."
"Pulled what off?" Hazel demanded, but she was shushed sternly. Fuming, she kept going anyway, eager to get this over with.
It wasn't too long before sharp blasts of fire could be seen over the treetops, and then the shouting of men and an earsplitting roar. Her heart thudded up into her throat, but she pushed herself faster, eager to see-
Dragons!
Four of them! Huge and vicious, they were trapped at the bottom of a vast pit, itself lined by a massive fence made from whole tree trunks. Looking closer, she also saw heavy iron chains and leather-lined collars around their necks and legs, keeping them from flying away.
One of them, a massive black beast with horns and spikes from every conceivable angle, reared up onto its hind legs, dragging the beast handlers with it. It opened its mouth and screamed, and to her amazement Hazel could understand it! "WIZARDS! Why have we been brought here?! Where is my clutch?! Release us IMMEDIATELY!" The dragon screamed again and shot a narrow jet of molten flame, which splashed against a hasty shield charm thrown up by one of the dragon handlers.
The others roared and snarled similar things, and Hazel understood right away that these were nesting mother dragons. It made sense since they were all screaming for their clutches and demanding to be released, after all. "Don't tell me we have to fight these things," she moaned.
"Merlin's beard, I hope not!" Cedric agreed.
"It's no good, lads, the Sleeping Draughts wore off too fast! Stunners, on three!" one of the men yelled, brandishing a wand. Thirty wands pointed skyward, thirty jets of red light shot forth and splashed against hardened scaly hides! "Again!" Another round of Stunners erupted upward, creating showers of red stars as they impacted the maddened beasts!
And then, slowly, they all toppled over, crashing to the earth so hard the trees shook for hundreds of feet around them. "Not very subtle, are they?" the man panted, wiping his forehead. He looked up and saw Charlie and Hagrid. "Ah, I figured you two'd be here soon. We already chased off the Frenchwoman and that other slimy git."
"Already?" Charlie sounded resigned. "Well, what breeds do we have?"
Hazel knew he was asking for her and Cedric's benefit, but the man glanced at Hagrid and shrugged. "That little green one's a Common Welsh Green." Little being relative, of course, it was still easily twenty feet long. "Then we've got a Chinese Fireball, gotta watch out for their flames." That one was a bright red, and even in the darkness Hazel could see it had a unique pattern of horns and spines. "At the far end there's a Swedish Short Snout, they've got the hottest flames of any of them." A somewhat skeletal blue-gray beast, even in its sleep it held itself apart from the others.
"And lastly the Hungarian Horntail," and he pointed at the large black one Hazel had heard speak earlier. "We had to rush to get this one pinned down and brought in, lemme tell ya! Four Champions!" and he scoffed loudly. "And they're still calling it the Tri wizard Tournament!"
"Yeah well, Quadrawizard Tournament don't have the same ring to it," Charlie replied. "What were they thinking anyway, messing with dragons? They could get hurt! Not to mention their eggs!"
"And the students'll be fine, will they?" the other man snorted. "You always did get a little funny around dragons, Charlie."
Charlie waved that aside impatiently. "They will be fine, they've got all the judges and Headmasters on their side! But who's on the dragons' side?"
"You 'n me, Charlie," Hagrid rumbled, patting him on the back. "You 'n me got their backs."
"At least they don't have to fight them, right? Just get past them or something?"
"Something," the man shrugged. "They wanted nesting mothers, by Merlin. Them kids gotta hell of a chore waiting. Just glad they didn't ask for an Ironbelly!"
The dragon handlers were now levitating large, oblong objects to each dragon, carefully flicking their wands to keep the movements under control. Hazel knew they were eggs, having seen a dragon egg up close in her first year. "Don't even think about it, either of you, we've got 'em all counted and recounted," the chief handler said sternly, waving his finger at the matching looks of envy and yearning on Charlie and Hagrid's faces.
"We should get back," Cedric murmured. "Hagrid, Professor Weasley, we're heading back." He raised his voice so that the two men could hear, and they both waved behind their backs. He and Hazel took off, circling the edge of the Forest again so they wouldn't get lost.
Once everything was out of sight, Hazel pulled her Cloak off, and Cedric banished the charm. "Cedric, I could understand the dragons," she confided in a whisper. "I could hear what they were saying!"
"Really?" If he was skeptical of her claim, he didn't show it. "That must be your Parseltongue abilities, you think?"
"Maybe, yeah." They walked on in silence, Hazel struggling over how to get past a dragon. "You got any idea what to do?"
"Might distract it with a spell," he mused. "I've gotten my object-to-animal Transfigurations down pretty good by now, as long as there's objects in the arena or whatever I should be okay. You?"
"I dunno, if I can get my broom down there I should be able to Summon it and outfly my dragon." And now that she thought about it, she knew exactly how she'd do it, too; Ludo Bagman still owed her a fuckton of money, after all!
"That'll play well for the papers," he laughed, and she grinned back at him.
They got closer to the castle, and Hazel pulled her Cloak back on while Cedric Disillusioned himself again. They slipped inside and went on downstairs. "We should be good now, I've got a patrol tonight so I'll see you to your common room," he whispered, revealing himself once more. "If anyone sees us, well, I'm Head Boy, what are they going to do?"
"Actually, walk me to Snape's office, he wanted to see me when I got back," she replied. He gave her a funny look, but shrugged and went with her there. "Thanks, Cedric, good night."
"You too." He disappeared down the hall, and she knocked on the door.
It opened immediately, and she went in and closed it. "It's dragons, Professor," she said immediately. "Four of them, we each get one."
"I see." He seemed irritated by this, or at least, she thought he was. "You should work out at least three ways of getting by them, in case your main plan fails."
"Well, I had planned on blackmailing Ludo into leaving my Firebolt somewhere near the Task, and then outflying whichever dragon I get paired up with," she explained. "Whatever the actual Task is, it wouldn't hurt to have my broom handy, right?"
"If it doesn't get charred to cinders," he replied. "I recommend the Conjunctivitis Curse as well, it targets the eyes specifically which will bypass a dragon's magic-resistant hide."
Snape mentioning Curses sent her mind down an obvious train of thought, and she frowned. "Sir, the Unforgivable Curses."
"What about them?"
"They're only illegal against humans, correct?"
"Correct." He wasn't telling her not to, she noticed. "Once your seal is released you would have a better chance of any spell taking effect, though dragons' hides are notoriously resistant to all forms of magic."
"But not their minds?"
"I've never attempted to place a dragon under an Unforgivable Curse, so I cannot say," he replied, a barest hint of sarcasm lacing his voice.
"Maybe I could just… talk to it?" She rolled her eyes at his disbelieving look. "I could understand what they were saying while we were down there, sir, just like I can understand snakes. If I understand them, I'm sure I could speak to them, as well."
"Interesting." He stared at her for a silent moment or two. "I wish for you to attempt to speak so now."
"Yes sir." She closed her eyes, recalled the sway of the angry creatures, the awe she felt at the sight of them. "Like this, sir?" Immediately she fell into a coughing fit; just those three words felt like shards of glass being ripped through her throat. "Wow, that hurt…" she croaked.
A flick of Snape's wand summoned a glass of cold water. "Drink," he ordered, and she guzzled it down, sighing at the relief. "It would appear you can indeed speak Draconic, under the right circumstances. Clearly it has a toll on you, as well." He glanced at the clock. "I shall escort you to the common room, Miss Potter, it is getting very late even for a weekend."
"Yes sir." They stood up and left the office, and he left her at the door to the common room. "Good night, Professor," she said with a bow.
"Good night, Miss Potter."
Notes:Gonna update twice today so we can get to the good part next week.
Chapter 33: Amplifying CharmsSummary:The plan comes together! Will it work? Will it be good enough to avoid a grisly fate? Who will be one step closer to being sent home naked and hungover??
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextThe next day was a Sunday, so before dueling club she wrote a letter to Sirius:
Sirius, the first Task is dragons. I dunno what we have to do, fight them or kill them or what, but Charlie showed them to Cedric and I just last night, where I learned I can understand them and speak their language. I reckon I could get Bagman to leave my Firebolt somewhere nearby so I could summon it and fly around the dragon, and Snape suggested the Conjunctivitis Curse; he doesn't reckon I could talk to my dragon very well, or that the Unforgivables would work on it so much either.
Let me know what you and Remus think!
Hazel
She sent it off with Hedwig, and by the time the club was done and she finished dinner, the owl had come back with a reply:
What did I tell you about the Dark Arts, Hazel? Don't make me come up there to sort you out. Use your broom and try not to let it get burned, and don't bother negotiating with the dragon, it'll be too pissed off to even think straight, let alone listen to anything you say. Remus and I both think the Conjunctivitis Curse is a good idea too, so whatever the actual Task is, rely on that.
Also I still can't believe you spoke to Skeeter, and that she's actually playing along with whatever you're planning, but please don't make the mistake of trusting her! She's a tabloid journalist who makes her living off of smearing celebrities and politicians, and like it or not, you ARE a celebrity.
Beneath that was a paragraph in Lupin's handwriting:
Ignore Sirius, he's all bark and no bite. Do whatever you have to do to survive, Hazel, you didn't ask for this after all; if anything, you're sure to impress Karkaroff if you try Dark Arts against the dragon. Everyone knows he was a Death Eater back in the day, for all that he was also a coward who gave up names to get out of Azkaban. Of course you'd be safer to rely on your broom and your other spellwork in the end, but you should feel free to decide your own plan of attack. Be careful, and know that we love you.
"A Death Eater, huh?" She wondered if there was any way of confirming that. Looking around, she saw Draco entering the common room, and waved him over. "Draco, was Karkaroff a Death Eater?"
"I think so, yes," he replied, sitting down across from her. "Father never spoke very highly of him, though, and he was never invited to the Manor either."
"Probably because he gave up his mates to get out of being sentenced," she mused, showing him the letter. "Dragons, can you believe that shit?"
Draco frowned at the letter, an eyebrow cocked up in disbelief. "You can talk to dragons?"
"I'm not sure, Snape reckons I can speak Draconic but it hurts like hell." Her throat twinged just thinking about it. "I think I'll try and talk it down first, and if that doesn't work I'll use the Imperius Curse on it."
"You'd better practice if you want any chance in hell of cursing a dragon," he replied fervently.
"I certainly plan on it," she said.
Later that week, in Charms, she stuck her hand up before class started. "Professor Flitwick, I was wondering if we could do something a little different today?" she asked innocently.
"And what would that be, Miss Potter?" he replied from atop his stack of books.
"Could we do the Amplifying and Quietening Charms today?"
He gave her a shrewd look. "Any particular reason you want to learn these specific charms today, Miss Potter?"
"Not really, I just wanna learn something a little different," she said, laying on the innocence.
"Well, I don't see why not," he allowed. "Very well! Eyes up front, class! Today we're deviating from the book and learning the Amplifying Charm, as well as its counterspell the Quietening Charm!"
It was a fun lesson, and Hazel was glad to see her deft touch with Charms had yet to fail her. It was even more satisfying when she demonstrated for the class, and was so loud that she blew Flitwick clean off his feet! "Sorry, Professor," she whispered afterward, turning her wand on herself. "Quietus!"
"Well played once again, Miss Potter," Flitwick laughed, struggling to his feet. "Twenty points for Slytherin!"
"Thank you sir." She knew they were skirting the rules, but as long as it was just a lesson, it was fine, right? And it wasn't as if Flitwick was specifically helping her to pass the Task, right?
Friday, the day before the Task, she was yet again approached by Snape. "The Headmaster wishes to see you after lunch," he told her in a low voice. "The ritual circle is complete, and it will take some time for the ritual itself. You have already been excused from your remaining classes; Miss Granger will collect any reading and assignments you may miss."
"Yes sir." At last, something to look forward to! The reason for it hovered just outside acknowledgement, of course, but for now she could smile and anticipate having more magic at her disposal.
At lunch itself she could hardly eat from excitement, though she managed to force a sandwich or two down somehow, and after draining a goblet of milk she stood up and hurried for the Headmaster's office.
"Ah, Hazel, not that way," a familiar voice called. It was Dumbledore himself, gesturing from the stairs leading down. "Down here, if you would."
"Professor?" Somewhat perplexed, she went over and followed him down. "Where are we going, sir?"
"Somewhere we will not be interrupted." He led her through passages she wasn't aware of, and eventually into an empty hall that resembled a ballroom, of all things; it was vast, and cold, and lit by eerie blue candles on the walls, save for tiny flickering flames arranged in the middle. Snape was waiting there too, along with Moody and Madam Pomfrey.
"Remove your outer layers of clothing, Miss Potter," Snape said quietly, "and stand in the center of the circle." Looking closer, she saw the tiny flames marked four points along the rim of a circle, painted and carved into the smooth glassy surface of the hall.
She stopped at the edge and shrugged her cloak and jumper off, along with her boots and stockings. "Is this enough, sir?" she asked, shivering slightly in just her skirt and shirt.
"Yes." He gestured ahead, and she crossed the circle, where a smaller one marked the center. "Professor Dumbledore and I shall conduct the ritual; Professor Moody will make sure we do not release the seal too far, and Madam Pomfrey will examine you afterward for any side effects."
"I understand, sir." She fidgeted slightly, eager for this to be over.
The two men stood to either side, raised their wands and began reciting words in a strange language; it sounded fluid and melodious, vaguely Gaelic, but she couldn't focus on it. The circle had lit up! Words flared to life in green lettering, swirling about, slowly at first but increasing in speed as the chanting rose.
And as the words sped up, a pressure built within her chest, in the same space she had always felt the pains of her core pressing against its seal. She clutched herself, swaying slightly. "Don't fall over, Potter, and don't leave the inner circle," Moody growled softly, and she focused on Occlumency to stay in control.
She lost track of time, having closed her eyes long ago to make it easier to focus inward, mastering herself and the urge she felt to fall to her knees. The pressure built and built, slowly enough that she was able to adjust herself and not mess up, and in time she became aware of flickering lights against her eyelids; opening her eyes she saw green and blue flames being drawn out of her!
But that didn't make sense! If that energy was coming from within, what was causing that unbearable pressure?
"Enough!" Moody barked, thumping the floor with his staff. On cue the chanting slowed, hit some resolution, and then came to a halt, the marks in the floor slowing and resolving at the same time. "There we go, that did it."
"How do you feel, Hazel?" Dumbledore called, beckoning her to leave the circle.
"There's a pressure in my chest," she reported, still rubbing at it. "It doesn't hurt or anything, but it isuncomfortable, kinda hard to breathe."
"Try casting a spell," Snape suggested. "The Patronus Charm, for instance."
She locked eyes with Moody, and the way he tensed up made it clear he was thinking the same thing she was. A smirk curved her lips as she turned to face him, drawing her wand. She imagined him being thrown from the Astronomy Tower, and gloried in the savage exaltation it brought, the security of knowing a threat had been removed- "Expecto Patronum!"
A blinding flash of silver light flooded outward, and the pressure finally released, flowing down through her wand to erupt outward into a vast serpentine shape! She had manifested a cobra before, but this was- "A basilisk!" she shouted, laughing wildly as the ethereal beast coiled itself about Moody and hissed silently at him. She looked to the side, and could tell that Snape at least was enjoying the sight, in his own way.
"I think you've made your point, Hazel," Dumbledore said quietly, gently pushing her wand arm down. "Let him free now, would you kindly?"
"Aw, okay." She let the silver basilisk fade away, and blinked in the sudden darkness; it really had been bright, hadn't it? "Can I get dressed again?"
"Not yet, Potter." Madam Pomfrey conjured a stool and pushed her to sit on it, and fussed over her for a minute, checking her pulse and peeling an eyelid back, and other things. "Heart rate's elevated, but that's to be expected. Nothing else stands out."
"Very well then." Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement. "You now have an adult's magic, Hazel, and will stand a better chance of survival in the Tasks ahead. Please do not abuse your new strengths."
"Of course not, Headmaster." She bowed, and turned to get dressed. "Is that everything?"
"It is. Come along." Snape gestured for her to precede him, and she left the hall ahead of him. Moody, she noticed, had departed already; Dumbledore and Pomfrey were probably staying behind to clean up. "Was it necessary to threaten your professor, Potter?"
"Yes! I had imagined him being thrown from the Astronomy Tower to cast the Patronus Charm," she explained.
"Not exactly a typical memory, is it?"
"Yeah well, he's an asshole to the other Slytherins, so it wasn't really a stretch."
He had nothing to say to that, apparently. Eventually he sighed. "Dinner will be served soon, you may wait in the common room for the bell."
"Sir, if I have an adult's magic now, does that mean I don't have the Trace on me anymore?"
"It does not, or Madam Pomfrey would have noticed," he replied. "The rest of the seal will lift when the Trace does, but that doesn't mean they're connected in any other way."
She wondered how much more powerful she could become when she finally hit seventeen, and lost herself in daydreams of swiping her enemies aside with mere flicks of her wand. Then she remembered the dragons tomorrow, and stifled a groan; how could she forget? If this was only the first Task, how much worse would the rest of them be?
She worked on Runes practice until dinner, and on the way up she spotted Ludo Bagman entering the hall as well, though furtively and with one eye over his shoulder. "Hi, Mr Bagman!" she called, waving. "Ready for the Task tomorrow?"
"Huh?" He jumped slightly at her call. "Oh, ah, Hazel, lovely to see y-"
"I was wondering if I could get your help for a moment?" she went on, rather too loudly, attracting attention. "It won't take but a moment!"
"Stop shouting!" he hissed, still looking around. "Whatever you need, dear girl, but can it wait?"
There it was. "Sure! It can wait!" she replied gaily. "But what are you in such a hurry for?"
"Bagman! There you are!" yelled Fred as he appeared out of nowhere at Bagman's side.
"We've been looking all over for you!" George proclaimed, appearing at his other side.
"Have fun, Mr Bagman," and Hazel waved cheekily, turning to head into the Great Hall, detouring to see Hermione about what she had missed.
The memory of the panic on Bagman's face was enough to make her laugh throughout dinner, and she kept one eye on the high table to make sure he didn't get away. But she needn't have worried, for instead of leaving when he was finished he hovered by the door, waiting for someone. She finished up too, and stood to go meet him.
"I hope the twins didn't pressure you too much," she said, coming up behind him.
"Er, right, they-"
"Let's talk somewhere quieter," she insisted, gesturing ahead out the door. He walked off, and she followed, wand in hand in case he tried something stupid. "In here!"
She pointed out an empty classroom, and he walked inside. "What's this about, Potter?" he asked, irritation creeping across his features.
"What this is about is how you're gonna help me, Ludo," she replied, dropping the falsely cheerful act. "And don't act like you've got any choice in the matter, unless you want me to write to Gringotts about the several tens of thousands of galleons you owe me!"
"Th-That won't be necessary," he insisted, going rather pale. "Really, Hazel, I was gonna offer a hand anyway, you know? You being the underdog and all…"
"Good. I'm gonna send you a package tonight, and you're gonna stash it somewhere near the place the Task is gonna happen, so I can Summon it to me when the time comes. Understood?"
"H-How do you know what the Task is going to be?" he asked, plainly surprised.
"I don't, but I know there's dragons involved," she replied.
"And if I do this, it'll pay my debt to you?"
She scoffed. "It'll chip into the interest, maybe! I'm not writing off that much gold for an errand a house-elf could manage, Bagman, you're not getting off that easy!"
Abruptly the door slammed open, making both of them jump. Moody was standing there, glaring at them both. "Bugger off, Ludovic," he snarled, limping into the room. Bagman scurried away without a peep, and Moody fixed his glare on Hazel. "So! Blackmailing the judges, are we?"
She crossed her arms and glared. "He owes me a fuckton of gold, Moody, what of it?"
"Typical." He reached for his flask and swallowed from it. "You're hardly the only Champion looking for a leg up, that's for sure. Got a plan for the dragons, then?"
She frowned up at him; this wasn't the reaction she had expected. "I have a few plans, actually, not that I'm telling you any of them."
"Smart girl." Beneath the scars he almost seemed pleased. "I'd be worried if you were one of those fool Gryffindors, always too quick to trust and too eager to rush off half-baked, but you're too canny for that, aren't you?"
"I suppose so." His attitude was making her uncomfortable. "Are we done?"
"Yeah, we're done. Clear off."
She didn't need to be told twice, and went for the door almost as fast as Bagman had. She went straight for her dorm and dug out her Firebolt, then rubbed her Heir ring. "Kreacher?"
The elf appeared with a pop. "Mistress Hazel has called?" he croaked, bowing low.
"Yes. I need you to take my broom, wrap it up, and then drop it off with Ludo Bagman as soon as possible. Can you do that?"
"Kreacher lives to serve," he replied, putting a hand on the broom. "Will that be everything?"
"Send me a bottle of throat tonic in the morning," she added as an afterthought. "Thank you, Kreacher." He bowed again and disappeared, and Hazel let out a breath. Best get ready for bed, she figured. She took the extra time to push herself harder than usual during her routine, in the hopes that a little extra exertion would help with the nerves she felt for tomorrow.
Notes:Be sure to tune in next time, folks. Next time, the girl burns.