Unexpected Help, or How the Triwizard Tournament could have been

For the first quarter of an hour, neither of them talked beyond “Good evening, Sir” and “You have your instructions, Potter.” Severus Snape corrected essays and Harry began chopping and preparing his ingredients. The potion wasn’t incredibly hard, especially with Harry’s thorough preparation these days and the lack of external influence tossing nonsense into his cauldron. He was definitely not going to be a Potions Master one day, but talking with Grandpa Henry had changed a lot for him. The way he explained some things, both his method and him simply being nice and caring, made potions fun and logical. 

Once Harry got the base of his potion into the cauldron and on a nice simmer, he cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, Professor Snape, may I ask something?”

Snape looked up, surprised at the soft tone of Mr Potter. He had expected that this would come.

“Let me first see how much you messed up the… oh. Adequate, Potter.”

“Thank you. I’ve been learning a lot with my great-grandfather Henry. I believe you might know his name. He is also the reason I own the rune stone from earlier. I am telling you this because… I believe you are playing a role. You are wearing a mask and I don’t know because of whom. Dumbledore? Voldemort? I don’t care. Your behaviour towards me is unacceptable, even if it is an act. And Hermione…”

Snape actually looked offended now.

“I would have never let anything happen to any of my students, regardless of blood status. But Draco talks to his father. Cruel, but sadly necessary.”

“And not telling Dumbledore?”

“My students respect you. You are planning something, and I believe it does not fully align with Dumbledore’s plans. I trust their judgement. And the debt I am fulfilling… it is not to Dumbledore, but your family. To you. Don’t believe that I like you though.”

Harry stared at Snape with confusion, but hid it quickly. The man seemed sincere, so he believed it. That would explain the broom situation in first year and him trying to protect them from Remus after the transformation.

“Thank you. How much do you know of Dumbledore’s plans?”

“Not enough, but I can offer insights to both sides.”

“Good, then we should talk with Sirius once he is no longer a fugitive. Don’t worry, he will act according to his title.”

Harry undid the charms on his rings and flashed them for a moment, grinning at Snape.

“Your students are smart. And I would assume that even Lucius will vote with us in the Wizengamot after the first task. His French friend, the Marquis de Fleamont, is giving him a few hints these days.”

“Cheeky brat. Finish this potion and go to bed. Your secrets are safe with me.”

Harry nodded. This was clearly the end of the conversation, much more polite than expected. Harry and Snape had both learned a lot now. Loads to think about now.

At about the same time, Barty Crouch Sr. knocked on Amelia Bones’ office door. She smiled once she saw him, obviously knowing that he had just been at Hogwarts, but then she saw the fear and pain on his face.

“We might have a problem, and it is not Black.”

“Oh. Come in.”

They weren’t even seated yet when Barty spoke up. He had only waited until the door was closed.

“Get me a test for compulsion and potion influence. I am pretty sure that when Potter called me to a meeting, my ring flushed my system. Haven’t done any formal Head of House meetings since the end of the war I believe.”

“What… what happened to you?”

“When my wife was dying, she wanted to see Junior in Azkaban again. I didn’t want to, but she somehow got me to agree. Now I believe it might have been a potion, she had a Mastery as you might now. Anyway, at Azkaban she pulled out two flasks of Polyjuice and they switched places. Like she said, the dementors only saw a sick soul come and one go. Her wish was to keep him at home under the Imperius and let our elf care for him. As long as he lived and was free. She died two days later, apparently still in his form. I faked her death at home a week later with a bit of Transfiguration and some Compulsion charms. My mind is a bit in scrambles now but at some point the captor became the prisoner. He disappeared often and I am pretty sure that he cast the Dark Mark at the World Cup.”

Amelia stared at him in disbelief. Barty Crouch, beacon of justice freeing his son from prison and holding him under an Unforgivable. That sounded like some borderline dark potion made by his wife that made him follow her last orders forever, or he was blatantly lying. 

“Will you allow forensic tests and Veritaserum?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We will keep that confidential for now if the test results convince me. Sirius Black first, and then we will see. 

And that was exactly what they did. Yes, it was more or less legally grey, but the tests revealed that he had been under the influence of long-term compulsions (starting around the time he freed his son until very recently, Junior was probably still dosing him) and recently some Imperius curses. His Head of House ring would usually protect him to some extent, or at least warn him, but it had gone dormant. He hadn’t used it at all and the passive magic simply declined. There were no Potters, nearly no Longbottoms and only Amelia from the Bones family. The core of their alliance was gone and he just went into simple Ministry work, often not even wearing the ring. All the potion and spell influence didn’t compromise him in general, it was a very topical influence and because of that even harder to notice.

Once they would have cleared Black’s name, then Barty and Amelia would formally notify the Wizengamot of Junior’s escape and Barty would bring forward charges against his son. If a member of the Wizengamot wanted to, then they could vote for charging him, but the evidence was clear. Honestly, Barty did his duty by notifying the DMLE, who had to respond appropriately. They weren’t even bending the rules -  or not much at least. 

Harry met with his friends in their reading room after his detention. It wasn’t that late. 

“And, how was it?”

“Oh, my potion came out quite nicely.”

Hermione just raised an eyebrow.

“Yes yes, I know. He’s a spy. Though apparently fulfilling a debt to my family. Neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort is his true master. He’s just aiming for the win and I guess trying to keep me alive or something. He is a git, but doesn’t want me dead. We postponed the conversation until after the Wizengamot session.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad then.”

Harry nodded and grabbed a book to read. He was reading the Runes books on a daily basis and every time he could literally feel his blood respond. It was… he often tried to explain it to Hermione, but that wasn’t easy. This just intuitively came to him, the magic pulsating through his body responding to the books soaked in family magic. It was just as natural as his charisma and leadership skills, the aura he radiated that made everyone turn their heads and listen. Now that he knew how that felt he could even channel that on purpose. Probably a wise idea for the tasks or in the Wizengamot.

He felt quite comfortable regarding the task by now - well, as comfortable as you can be before facing a dragon. Harry knew he was preparing himself as much as he could and he had a valid plan. Maybe they could take off the next day at least?

“Mione? Any plans for tomorrow?”

The girl looked up while Neville and Susan just grinned and tried to be as invisible as possible.

“What? I guess we'll keep up doing our studies. You can’t be prepared enough I think. What do you mean?”

“I thought… I believe I can afford a break from my preparations for a day, and even if it is not a Hogsmeade weekend we could just spend time with each other.”

Hermione then finally understood and began to blush.

“I would be delighted. Surprise me?”

Harry smiled. Thank Merlin she said yes, and thank Merlin that no one could hear his heartbeat right now. Yes, he had said that he didn’t know how to proceed with… whatever they had or might have. It was just the way he was due to his upbringing. What is love? Did he deserve something good and a bit of happiness in his life? Obviously, he knew that he deserved something good, but there always was this strange feeling in the back of his head telling him the opposite. Being called “freak” often enough left its marks. But by now he had sorted through the chaos in his mind and he believed he knew what he wanted. Hermione meant the world to him. She was his best friend, always by his side. What would he do without her?

And so Harry made the first step towards defining this undefined thing between them. 

The following morning, Harry got up early and went down into the common room with a book. This time not a textbook, but rather a novel Remus had sent him. Supposedly it was one of his mother’s favourites. After learning about magic she started to read fantasy novels and Tolkien was among her favourite authors - and so Harry was reading the Lord of the Rings. Reading something from C.S. Lewis was on his agenda too. And he would still have to find out what his dad liked - if he liked reading. Maybe Sirius could help over the holidays, if they managed to leave the castle after the ball.

And just as Frodo began talking with Galadriel, Harry heard familiar steps and closed the book. Hermione had arrived, and she was in a very good mood.

“Hey Mione.”

“Good morning, Harry. Been waiting long?”

He shook his head and then explained that he had been reading. Even if he would have sat here for two hours he wouldn’t have minded. And once she learned of his current reading material, she began rambling about how fantastic Tolkien’s works were - until Harry had to interrupt.

“Please, Mione. Wait with that until I’m done. Spoilers.”

She blushed, not having realised how much she had just started to ramble. Harry loved that sight, to be honest. She was so cute when she blushed. 

“Oh true, sorry. What is our plan for the day?”

Harry didn’t have much of a plan - the downside of this not being a Hogsmeade weekend. First they would go get breakfast, hopefully in peace and quiet before the majority of the students came down and then take a long stroll outside on the grounds. It didn’t seem like it was going to rain or be unusually cold, but rather a sunny (yet chilly) day. Maybe they would find a quiet spot outside and just do a whole lot of nothing to escape the world’s trouble for a few hours. 

The Great Hall was very empty, only Professor McGonagall and about a dozen students, none of them Gryffindors. How relaxing that was. No one fighting for the best pieces of food, no unnecessary noise, and thankfully no Ronald Weasley with his lacking manners and awful eating habits. 

The Saturday edition of the Daily Prophet arrived early and Hermione quickly grabbed one. The Rita Skeeter article was the front page piece after all. Did she honour her deal with Harry or not?

“The unwilling yet confident young wizard. That’s a nice description. Oh and I see, you are unhappy with the organisers and their lack of help. And this is gonna give you bonus points with the traditionalists, it is apparently horrible to do that to the last Potter scion. Usually her articles are nonsense, but that is actually quite good. Remind me to show it to Henry later.”

Harry then noticed Professor McGonagall’s stare. She too had read the article and was rather surprised at its tame nature. Her look was saying What have you done, Potter? And so he just mouthed Don’t ask, you’ll see and grinned. 

Minerva just shook her head. The article was actually nice and treated all four champions - even Fleur Delacour, a part Veela - with respect and dignity. She actually depicted Harry nicely, clarifying that he was trapped in the Tournament and that if anyone is to blame then it would be the organisers. A move not even the Marauders could have managed. Minerva just hoped that he didn’t sell his soul for that. But probably not, judging by Miss Granger’s reaction. And…oh. The duo left the hall with a smile on their faces and if her old (well, not by magical standards) eyes didn’t deceive her, then those two just linked their hands and headed away together. 

After walking for something that felt like an hour, hand in hand because it just felt natural, Hermione aimed for a bench near the black lake. It wasn’t one of the classic make out spots but, because it was so close to the main paths, but rather one of those places you sat with a book or a sketch book to just relax, read a bit or draw the beautiful nature. Not that Hermione could draw, she knew that. But that's besides the point. 

And so they sat there. For a while without even saying anything. Neither wanted to let go of the other’s hand, neither wanted to interrupt that moment of peace. Recently things had become a little stressful, and not just with the Tournament. Voldemort, Dumbledore, Horcruxes. So much chaos. And then the trouble with various students around them. The youngest two Weasleys were the worst, but by far not the only ones impacting their lives in a negative way. Ginny couldn’t stop glaring, and that despite Harry and Herrmione not having defined anything yet, let alone showed anything beyond their usual friend stuff (minus Ron obviously). If they had been snogging in the common room, she would understand Ginny’s anger, but not at that point. And Ron… he was just so lazy and angry all the time. He mostly avoided them, hung out with other idiots and regularly failed in class and with homework. And when he didn’t ignore them, he was very passive aggressive. But only subtly. Well. As subtle as a mountain troll in a China Shop (Hermione didn’t know if that idiom worked like that in the magical world, but comparing Ron to a troll was never a bad idea).

But she should probably stop overthinking and enjoy the moment. 

So she just rested her head on his shoulder and in silence they just enjoyed the view, the closeness and their intertwined hands. 

Amelia Bones was worried. The whole talk with Bartemius Crouch made her consider just who was at Hogwarts wearing Alastor Moody’s skin. Barty Junior being close to Potter and hiding at the school was a very scary thought. But she couldn’t tip her hand before the first task and trial. And Dumbledore would interfere at every step. As Headmaster he could do loads of annoying things when her investigation regarded a teacher. And he was Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. She would have to talk to someone she trusted. Not Kingsley, he was too close to Dumbledore. Maybe Rufus. And on top of that she could write another letter to Remus Lupin. Smart man - Black probably too, the response letters sometimes varied in handwriting and both authors were smart. Sirius Black was probably the one with more formal phrasing. Lupin was more straightforward and down to earth while Black didn’t just sound formal, he managed to incite a giggle despite that sort of language. He certainly was a man of many words. 

When Rufus Scrimgeour knocked on Amelia Bones’ office, he didn’t know what to expect. It was a rare thing to get called into her office, but at least he knew he had done everything right. He wasn’t about to get fired or demoted, but neither were there any free spots for a promotion or a case that needed the attention of the DMLE head. 

“Come in!”

Okay, Lady Bones was in a good mood, but a little tense. Seemingly not mad at him… and had a huge file in front of her. Had to be something secret.

“What can I do for you, Boss?”

“Close the door. This falls under the vows of your office and is strictly confidential between you and me, not even your colleagues and superiors will be informed. Take a seat. You want the summary or read the file?”

“You give me the headlines and then I’ll read the file. That way I’m more prepared for the chaos you’re tossing at me and can spend more time with the details without looking confused.”

“Okay, but don’t get me wrong. Not an assignment, a second opinion. And don’t interrupt. First off, Sirius Black is innocent.”

Rufus was about to speak up, but then remembered her last order. He just nodded.

“Pettigrew is alive and framed Black, illegal rat animagus cutting off his finger. He was the true secret keeper of the Potters, Black was a distraction and never even got a trial. The one session scheduled for the 24th is for him. Dumbledore then managed Potter’s custody improperly, and let me tell you, that wasn’t a nice upbringing. What the Headmaster doesn’t know is that the Triwizard Tournament emancipated Potter and the boy is brilliant, now taught by Henry Potter’s painting. Then there is the you-know-who issue. Horcruxes, several ones actually. Black and the Goblins are apparently making slow progress. One is in Harry Potter’s scar, but they can remove it. We believe Dumbledore knows of it and has given up on Harry, raising him to die so you-know-who can be killed. His exact motives… no idea. We don’t want to take any chances. Oh and Barty Crouch was under potion and spell influence since before his wife passed. She made him free Junior via a Polyjuice swap. Long-term Imperius custody, probably because of spell influence, he is not guilty. But now Junior escaped, probably helping his old master. Lastly, someone is impersonating Alastor at Hogwarts with Polyjuice. Not sure if Dumbledore is giving Alastor an alibi for some shady business or if it is Barty Junior.”

Rufus just stared at her for a while, trying to make sense of all the implications. Then, after a minute or three had passed, he overcame the confusion.

“Okay. Should I prepare the Black case? Hunt Pettigrew? Help with fucking Horcruxes or go arrest whoever pretends to be Alastor? Though… Dumbledore can just throw me off the grounds if I want to arrest a teacher. And then stall my request in the Wizengamot. Probably find some stupid way to ruin the Black trial.”

“Exactly my problem. Do I let “Alastor” roam free for the next one and a half weeks or not? If I could send Aurors to Hogwarts for security reasons, then I would feel comfortable, but Dumbledore has denied that multiple times.”

“You can arrest him outside of the grounds though, that gives Dumbledore less options. Was Alastor part of the Black arrest and investigation?”

“Oh, that’s good. We could have him come in because we are revisiting an old case and arrest him here. You’ll set it up?”

Rufus nodded, grabbed the heavy file in front of him and headed back to his office. He had a letter to write and a man to arrest.

In the late afternoon, Minerva McGonagall requested entrance to Albus’ office. She was being accompanied by Rufus Scrimgeor, who appeared to be quite agitated and tense. This was probably something of Amelia’s plan, but didn’t they want to wait until Sirius Black was free?

“Minerva, what can I… Rufus. What brings you here? You know that I am not a fan of having Aurors at school.”

“I know, Headmaster, but this is important. And Minerva, please stay, you should know this too. Earlier today, Amelia sent me to double check an old case file. The usual had happened, some lawyer once again tried to appeal a Death Eater conviction. Just some low level Death Eater from a minor Noble House. Happens every few years. Anyway, they requested the case file and the Department of Records noticed a filing error. There was a transcript missing. So I asked the arresting Auror to come in. Alastor always keeps copies of everything.”

“And? That sounds like nothing unusual.”

“It isn’t. The problem is that Alastor didn’t respond with his normal code phrase, so by his standing orders, we arrested him on the spot. It was polyjuice. Apparently since August, the incident with the trash cans, you remember?”

“What?”

Albus couldn’t believe it. That’s how this had happened. Someone was impersonating Alastor. That would explain his strange behaviour. He had simply been way too busy to spend much time with his old friend, the Tournament required a lot of time and effort.

“Yes, we couldn’t believe it either. You’ll never believe who it was. Barty Crouch Junior.”

“He’s dead!”

Scrimgeour shook his head.

“No, Minerva, he is alive. Barty’s wife dosed him with potions and then took her son’s spot when she was terminally ill. She took Polyjuice until she died. Her orders were to keep Junior under the Imperius and Barty never broke through the compulsion. Junior at some point overpowered his father. He cast the Dark Mark at the World Cup and shortly after he fled. We have Barty under medical supervision, he is going to be alright. Alastor is apparently imprisoned in his trunk.”

Hearing that, Albus got up and stormed out of his office. He had to free Alastor. Merlin be damned, how could he have missed that? It at least explained how Harry got into the Tournament. But he hoped that it wouldn’t mess up Tom’s plans completely. Whatever method he was planning on using to come back to life, it must somehow be dependent on young Harry. The best case scenario was that Tom succeeded, hopefully killing Harry and the Horcrux in the process. That means he wouldn’t have to kill the boy himself. And if Harry was dead, then the prophecy was fulfilled. Sad, but necessary. 

Soon Alastor Moody was in St. Mungos and Dumbledore grudgingly accepted Rufus’ offer of having a few Aurors teach DADA until he was healthy again. Dumbledore would have done it himself, but he was way too busy for that. 

“What will Amelia do with Barty?”

“For now she still needs him. When I informed her earlier she said that she and Fudge have planned an important session in the Wizengamot on the 24th, and they need Barty for that too. For now we will talk about someone impersonating Alastor and an arrest. No comments on ongoing investigations. That gives old Crouch some time to recover.”

Dumbledore nodded. He didn’t know what Amelia Bones was planning, but she was a good woman. Experience told him that he wouldn’t find out any details so he just hoped for the best. Her Occlumency shields were simply too good and Cornelius wouldn’t know any details. 

Late in the evening, Rufus and Amelia met again. By now the Head Auror had read the file on Dumbledore and Voldemort too and together they came to the conclusion that the Headmaster couldn’t be trusted. Even if he just planned to let Potter die for the “greater good” of defeating Voldemort because he couldn’t remove a Horcrux, that was still cruel. Pragmatic, but cruel. And he was a cold and ruthless chess player. Even if they told him about the alternative solution, he wouldn’t stop meddling. 

“But the Ministry is too weak, Amelia. We can’t fight two battles at once.”

“I know. I’ll try to reduce Malfoy’s influence on Cornelius and once we have Black and Potter publicly on board we can strengthen our standing. Their names have power on both sides of the spectrum and the centre will love them. You know what, I have an idea… where did I put it?”

She reached into one of her drawers and grabbed a small strip of paper. It was charmed so that only those she deemed trustworthy could read it.

“What’s that… oh. Fidelius. You think we can just drop by?”

“We can try. Ever visited a fugitive of the law at home?”