Scrutiny
‘What are you doing here?’ Ron grumbles from his bed as Harry enters the dorm.
‘Erm, going to bed…?’ Harry frowns, wondering what’s got Ron in such a stink.
‘Oh, I thought you must be bunking with the other champions.’ Ron sneers in a very uncharacteristic fashion.
‘What?’ Harry huffs in confusion.
Ron just turns his back and pulls the covers over his head.
Harry does not have the energy to figure out what his problem is right now. His brain is spinning, and the whole thing feels like some sort of nightmare, not to mention his own father had doubted him. Was that what Ron was thinking too? That Harry had entered himself into the competition? He glances around at his other dorm mates, who all seem a bit subdued and no one looks him in the eye. Are they all pissed at him?
‘Goodnight Harry!’ Neville chirps cheerfully, crossing the room with his sponge bag in one hand and his toothbrush in the other.
Well at least not everyone. Good old Neville.
‘Terrible luck about that Tri-Wiz business.’ Neville continues to chatter as he climbs into bed. ‘Do you think your parents will be able to get you out of it?’
‘I hope so.’ Harry mutters.
‘Well if there’s anything I can do…’ Neville shrugs, then lies down in his pillow.
‘Thanks Neville.’ Harry smiles, glancing at Ron’s covered form. It would be nice if his best friend could have said the same. ‘Goodnight.’ He says, and climbs into his own bed.
~~~~
Petra drags herself out of bed in the dark after only a few hours sleep. She lifts her wand to stop the lights from coming on, but Severus is already stirring beside her.
‘Might as well leave them.’ He mutters. ‘I’m awake anyway.’
‘Did you sleep at all?’ Petra asks, turning towards him as the candles gently brighten.
Severus simply grumbles, and pulls her closer, nuzzling into her hair.
‘I need to go do my ritual.’ She says. Petra had planned on performing the Samhain ritual last night, but what with their son being forced into a dangerous competition against his will she had had to postpone.
Severus and herself had stayed up late discussing possible options, but it was rather difficult to plan anything without knowing the terms of the contract. All they could do is wait for the documents to arrive, so in a way Petra is glad to have her ritual to take her mind off things. After reluctantly extracting herself from her partner’s arms, she puts on some comfortable clothes, and her thick cloak, then takes her box and strides out of the castle.
After the powerful and vibrant Mabon ritual, the stone circle feels cold and empty. But perhaps that is partly Petra’s own mood. She lights the bonfire which she had prepared yesterday, then sits in the centre of the circle watching the sun edge it’s way up over the horizon.
~~
When she arrives back Severus and Harry are sitting at the dining table eating breakfast – although Harry seems to mostly be pushing his food around the plate.
‘I had an idea.’ Petra states, before the door has even closed behind her, kicking off her boots, and throwing her cloak haphazardly over the coat rack.
Severus raises his brows slightly in question.
‘The map.’ She states, sitting down at the table and shovelling food onto her plate.
Severus frowns and waits to hear what crazy plan she has come up with this time. His lovely wife-to-be has a smear of charcoal across her cheekbone, her hair is tangled, and she stinks of woodsmoke. She looks as beautiful as ever, but mad as a box of frogs.
‘The Marauders Map?’ Harry queries. ‘Well if one of us had been looking at it when whoever it was put my name in then great, but that can’t help us now.’ He shrugs.
‘Can’t it?’ Petra raises a brow a wild smile playing on her lips.
‘Petronella…’ Severus scowls, folding his paper and reaching for her hand.
‘What if we could… sort of rewind it? Like a muggle video cassette.’ She proposes.
Severus freezes, looking intrigued, then stares off into the distance, his eyes flicking around in deep thought.
‘But how?’ Harry asks.
‘Haven’t quite figured that part out yet.’ Petra admits. ‘But I like a good project.’
~~
The copies of the Tri-Wizard contract, rules, and terms arrive by house-elf just after lunch; seven scrolls, each at least eight feet long. Severus and Petra dive straight into them, tracing the thin lines of text with haggard eyes.
Harry hangs about for a while, and to keep himself busy he makes coffee, then waters the plants in the courtyard, then tries to peer at their notes until Severus snaps at him to go and do some homework. He sits at the little desk in his room, but cannot concentrate, only managing to write a few stiff lines which even he isn’t happy with.
His mind keeps drifting back to the tournament, one question going round and round in his head: why? Why would someone want Harry Potter to compete? And on the back of that who? The two questions are interrelated; one would answer the other presumably.
After what feels like a very long while he emerges from his room to find his parents still pouring over the documents. Neither of them look up, and he feels like he is just in the way, but he cannot bring himself to leave. He needs to be here in case they find something.
‘Shall I make some dinner?’ He offers, just wanting to do something useful. Anything at all.
‘We’ll order from the kitchens.’ Severus states. Then he sighs and leans back, stretching his neck which cracks as though made of a bunch of dry twigs.
‘Have you found anything?’ Harry can’t help but ask, though the answer seems self evident.
‘No.’ Severus says, with a quick glance towards Petra who is still reading intently.
After writing a final note she closes her eyes, then looks up.
‘The rules and incantations are both very old and have been added to over and over through the years, resulting in rather a mess of notes, appendices, and clauses.’ She sighs. ‘Several of these contradict each other, and everything seems to lead back to one fundamental: the cup is infallible. If we could prove that Harry did not enter his own name, it would be simple.’
They leave the papers where they are, order some food, and sit on the sofas to eat.
‘What did you find about disqualification?’ Petra asks between mouthfuls.
‘Incapacitation, use of an illegal spell, or wilful injury of another champion.’ Severus states.
‘Hmm not ideal.’ Petra mutters.
‘Not ideal?!’ Harry exclaims.
‘There was also some sort of restitution mentioned, but we will need to study the Goblet Grimoire to find out what that would be.’ Severus adds.
‘Yes I saw mention of the same.’ Petra scowls.
A magically binding contract. These things were not to be taken lightly.
‘Maybe… I mean I was thinking…’ Harry pauses, glancing briefly at his father. ‘We need to find out who put my name in right? But if we scupper their plan by getting me out of the tournament we might never know. If I… if I stayed in it, it might draw them out…’ He suggests cautiously.
Severus and Petronella are silent, because in the back of their minds they have both been thinking the same thing. Severus had immediately dismissed the notion, whilst Petra had been battling internally with her own logic. So far they have not come up with an easy or solid plan for removing Harry from the competition, and even if they did, whoever it is might try something else. Something more direct.
‘Everyone thinks I put my own name in anyway.’ Harry mutters.
‘I do not think that, I thought you understood…’ Severus growls.
‘I don’t mean you.’ Harry mumbles.
‘Then who?’ Severus scowls. He thought that Harry had a good group of loyal friends, surely they would stick by him in this?
‘No one, forget it.’ Harry shrugs. ‘But it’s our best option for now isn’t it?’
His parents glance at each other.
‘It might be our only option for now.’ Severus sighs.
~~~~
Monday morning is awful. Monday mornings are almost always awful, but this one is particularly bad. Ron was still in a grump when Harry had arrived back in Gryffindor tower yesterday evening. He would not have imagined that aggressively ignoring someone was possible, but apparently Ron Weasley was a master at it. Hermione is sympathetic, but clearly doesn’t want to get stuck in the middle, besides she is rather distracted researching stuff about House elves still.
It’s not just Ron though. Everyone seems to think Harry entered his own name, and everyone has an opinion about it one way or another. The twins think he’s a genius, and beg him to tell them his secret, whilst most of Hufflepuff house is looking at him as if he’s just drowned a sack of Krups. Apart from Cedric that is, who is being really quite cool about the whole thing, and gives Harry a sympathetic smile every time their paths cross.
Luna and Neville are both being alright too. Luna doesn’t seem to have a mean bone in her body, and never follows the herd anyway. It’s a shame they don’t have more lessons together, but at least Harry has someone to sit with in Potions. They aren’t strictly following the lesson plan, but as they are probably the only two students in the school who could get away with that it works out. And as for Neville, he can’t even imagine that anyone would purposefully put their name in at all.
So it’s good, it’s alright. He’s got his parents, Hermione, Luna, and Neville. Maybe Cedric. Harry hopes Cedric believes him, and is not just being nice. Why he is so keen for Cedric in particular to believe in him is something he doesn’t have time to think about right now.
It’s still awful though. Everyone giving accusing looks, and whispering behind his back. It’s like second year all over again. He needed to find out who did this to him, and prove everyone wrong.
~~~~
Various objects are swaying and ticking, and candlelight glints warmly off gold and copper surfaces. The Headmaster has ordered tea, as he always does, but nobody is in the mood to drink it.
‘I’m afraid I could find no evidence of tampering on the Goblet.’ Albus informs the assembled. ‘As you ascertained, the spells are complex and have been added to and changed over the years, so I cannot be certain, but there is nothing obvious with which we could plead Harry’s case.’
‘Well there has to be something we can do!’ Minerva interjects. ‘What about the rules? Have they sent those through to you yet?’ She asks.
‘Yes but there’s no easy way out that we have found so far.’ Petra says.
‘Furthermore,’ Severus continues, ‘We have, for the time being, decided to allow events to play out.’
‘What?!’ Minerva gasps. ‘You cannot be saying that you are going to allow Harry to compete?’
‘It may be our best way of discovering who did this and why.’ Petra states.
Minerva looks at them aghast.
‘You’re going to offer him up as bait?’
‘It was my idea.’ Harry puts in.
‘Be that as it may…’ McGonagall starts, but Albus interrupts her.
‘I agree.’ He says. ‘With Severus. And if this is what Harry wishes to do, I have every confidence in him being able to complete the tasks.’
‘Completing the tasks is neither here nor there.’ Severus interjects. ‘We will do whatever is necessary to ensure our son’s safety – as we always do -’ He says pointedly to Minerva. ‘Even if that means breaking their stupid bloody rules and dealing with the consequences later.’
‘Consequences, what consequences?’ Minerva worries.
‘This is why it is not as simple as pulling Harry out.’ Petra says. ‘The consequences for breaking the contract are not made entirely clear.’ She unravels one of the scrolls and points to Section B;
Breaking of this contract shall result in a magical restitution to be determined by the Goblet of Fire.
And Appendix A;
Terms of disqualification will be determined by the Goblet of Fire, and restitutions taken where appropriate. It reads.
Then she opens a very old book, and points to another paragraph;
In the case of refusal of the judgement of the Goblet, restitutions will be taken by the Goblet, to be determined by the spells here-within. The price for lack of obeisance of the Goblet of Fyr’s rulings shall match the severity of the crime, up to and including the stripping of the offender’s magical core, and the relinquishment of life.
‘Oh my word.’ Minerva whispers. ‘Dear me Potter. Whatever will you get yourself into next?’ She shakes her head.
‘Sorry Professor. I don’t mean to really.’ Harry says.
Having come to a somewhat reluctant agreement on how to proceed for the time being, the meeting is called to an end, but Albus asks Severus to remain behind.
‘May I see it?’ The Headmaster asks once the others have left. There is a softness in his tone this time, sympathy perhaps.
Severus carefully unbuttons his cuff and rolls up his sleeve. Even before Albus raises the lights it is clear to see now that the mark is darkening.
‘How long has it been like this?’ Albus questions.
‘Difficult to say.’ Severus dissembles. ‘It has been very gradual.’
Albus nods, seeming to accept his answer.
‘I am looking forward to your wedding.’ The old wizard pauses to offer a wistful smile. ‘But you know you will have to leave them if you have any hope of Voldemort accepting you back.’
‘I will do whatever is necessary Headmaster.’ Severus states coldly.
~~~~
Professor Blishwick strides down the corridor, heading for the kitchens. She has been skipping meals in the hall, grabbing something from the kitchens to eat outside or in her office in order to gain some much needed quiet time, but she still feels constantly on the verge of a meltdown.
After the meeting with Albus and Minerva, they had had an even more difficult meeting with Crouch and Bagman. Eventually they had hashed out a deal, provisionally agreeing to Harry’s participation, dependent on certain terms such as at least one of his parents being present for any Tri-Wizard events. They also gave Harry both pieces of the Marauders map so that he could keep an eye on anyone who might be following him about.
These days time alone with Severus is equally important to Petra as her alone time, and despite her own resistance she has come to rely on the closeness between them. The physical intimacy and affection soothes her, and without it she feels fractious. If she indulges her need for solitude during meals, she can then spend her evenings with her partner. It’s not ideal but then life rarely is.
On her way to the kitchens this lunchtime however, she is distracted by a group of Hufflepuffs hanging in a tight bunch outside their common room. There are a few students from other houses too, and the Hufflepuffs seem to be handing something out. With a sigh, she adjusts her path and approaches the group, who seem uncharacteristically suspicious.
When someone notices their Charms Professor approaching them with a scowl, there is a flurry of very unsubtle activity as they clearly attempt to hide whatever it is they are doing.
‘I have neither the time nor the patience for your artifice. Hand it over. Now.’ She instructs them firmly.
Several of the students look rather nervous and guilty, but it is Hannah Abbot who speaks up.
‘They’re just badges to support Diggory.’ She says, without almost a little too much confidence.
Abbot was a good student on the whole, a typical Hufflepuff in her skills and interests which were mainly plants and animals, but it was her extreme house loyalty which Petra felt let her down. Hufflepuffs were loyal indeed, but that didn’t always have to mean blind devotion. Loyalty to deserving individuals was a much more noble trait in Petra’s opinion.
The girl smiles as she holds up one of the badges, which displays the words SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY! And underneath in smaller lettering – The Real Hogwarts Champion.
Petra looks up at her student, who is staring back at her defiantly. She had a relatively good relationship with most of her students she thought. Even though many of them thought her weird, and sometimes the younger ones would snigger about her appearance, or look at her with fear, by third year most came to respect her. She had certainly never had an issue with Abbot before, and cannot decide whether she is more angry or hurt.
The Professor looks at the badge in her hand, then around at the other students. The Slytherins appear particularly guilty, and avoid looking at her altogether. They’re not that bad, Petra reasons with herself, rather passive aggressive, but not untrue. Harry didn’t consider himself a proper champion, and didn’t even want to be in the bloody tournament. She shouldn’t allow her personal feelings to cloud her judgement. Something about the contrite expressions of some of the students gives her pause though. She traces a finger over the surface of the badge in her hand, noticing a faint magical trace.
The badges are charmed. Nothing powerful, dark, or complicated at all. In fact it is something so simple that she might even not have noticed if she were not so observant of small details. Petra feels for the trace of the charm with her own magic, and pushes at the small trigger she finds. The writing on the badge changes. Now it simply reads POTTER STINKS.
Petra closes her eyes, and has to focus very hard on her breathing in order to control the flare of anger in her chest. When she eventually opens her eyes, the glare she gives makes even the previously defiant Abbot cringe, and look down at the floor. Nobody has dared to move a muscle, for fear of invoking the Charms Professor’s wrath. The already shadowed hallway darkens further, despite the candles flaring as if fed by butane.
Eventually one of the Slytherin students steps forward, unfastening the badge from her robes and handing it to the Professor.
‘Sorry Professor.’ Miss Parkinson says, her head bowed in what appears to be genuine contrition.
Petra draws in a breath and shakes her head at the girl. Parkinson had been one of the students who had been coming to her instead of Severus, seeming glad to have a woman to talk to about more personal matters.
Pansy glances up, and flinches to see not only disappointment but hurt in the Professor’s eyes. Den mother, she hears Bridget say in her head. The other Slytherins step forward then and hand their badges over. Petra holds her hands out for the box, which Abbot reluctantly gives up, and Petra collects the rest of the badges into it, closing the lid tightly, before addressing her students.
‘I have one rule in my classroom. No bullying.’ She reminds them stiffly. ‘And you chose to do this to my son. To your Head of House’s son.’ She glares at the Slytherins. ‘You are all banned from my classroom for two weeks.’
They all gasp.
‘But…’ Someone – a Ravenclaw who Petra shoots a sharp glare at begins.
‘But nothing.’ She snaps. ‘Instead of charms class you will each report to the kitchens at your lesson time, where you will assist the house elves with the extra duties they have as a result of the tournament.’
There are more gasps, groans, and a few muttered complaints, but nobody is so bold as to directly dispute the punishment.
‘Will… are you going to tell Professor Snape?’ One of the Slytherins murmurs reticently.
Petra pauses for a long moment considering her response.
‘Yes.’ She tells them, then she turns and strides quickly away, anger still burning in her guts.
With the box tucked under her arm she climbs the stairs and heads for the nearest exit, planning a small bonfire before she has to head up to her afternoon classes, but again is diverted from her mission when she sees Harry heading towards the stairs leading to the hospital wing.
‘What’s happened?’ She demands, rather more tersely than she had intended.
‘Nothing!’ Harry protests, before biting his lip. ‘But me and Malfoy had a bit of an argument earlier, and Hermione got hit with a hex by accident.’ He admits. ‘I’m going to see if she’s alright.’
~~
Harry had walked down to potions with Neville, meeting his new lab partner Luna on the way. Hermione went with Ron. She said she was staying neutral, but from Harry’s perspective it didn’t look very neutral at all. Ron was being a total prat for no good reason, and Hermione should just leave him to seethe on his own if that’s what he wanted to do.
‘Hey Potter, like my badge?’ Malfoy popped out of an alcove away from the main gaggle of students waiting outside the potions classroom.
Harry sighed inwardly. He was starting to get used to Draco’s way of dumping bad news on him in a supposedly subtle, but usually humiliating way, and sure enough, the Slytherin had tapped his “support Cedric Diggory” badge, making it change to show the words “potter stinks”.
‘Great.’ Harry huffed. ‘What a clever and original insult.’ He drawled.
‘I’ll take one.’ Ron spoke up.
Draco raised a brow, looking the Gryffindor up and down rather contemptuously, but pulled out a spare badge from his pocket anyway.
‘Don’t.’ Harry growled pulling his wand and pointing it at Draco.
‘What’s got up your arse?!’ Draco spat back, drawing his own wand.
Ron raised his wand too, though he looked a bit unsure who he wanted to point it at.
‘Stop it all of you!’ Hermione exclaimed.
‘You should probably listen to your mudblood Draco.’ Parkinson called out mockingly, nodding her head to point out that they are practically outside Snape’s office.
‘She not my mudblood.’ Draco sneered back.
~~
‘That’s when I sort of lost it.’ Harry cringes, as they reach the infirmary doors, and Petra waits to hear the end of Harry’s tale before going in. ‘I fired Furnunculus, and Draco retaliated. I think we both aimed to miss, we were only about 6 feet apart. My spell hit Goyle, and Draco’s bounced off the wall into Hermione. Made her teeth grow down to here.’ Harry indicates somewhere below his chin.
‘Of course dad heard the ruckus and came storming out. He was pretty fuming. Gave us all detention, and he was pretty mean to Hermione too.’ He grumbles.
‘Alright, let’s see what the damage is.’ Petra sighs, opening the door to the hospital wing.
Densaugeo is an easy enough hex to reverse, but it is the damage to the teenager’s self esteem that she is most worried about. Petra might have always been defiant in the face of name calling, but that did not mean she was immune to the shame of being considered weird and ugly.
Severus had witnessed Petra being subjected to such insults, and had been on the receiving end himself. His comment could be considered insensitive at best, cruel at worst, and Petra was not afraid to tell him so.
~~~~
‘Stop!’ Severus intones as he marches into the infirmary.
Madam Pomfrey looks up with her wand in hand.
‘Severus, I was just about to perform a delicate procedure, I hope this is important.’ The medi-witch huffs.
‘It is.’ He states, striding over to where Granger is lying on one of the beds. He grimaces slightly as he properly takes in the sight of the ridiculously enlarged front teeth. ‘I need to speak with Miss Granger before you embark on the correction charms.’
‘Miss Granger is in considerable discomfort Severus, can this not wait?’
Severus peers down at the girl who is drooling, unable to fully close her mouth. Her eyes are red rimmed too, and her neck at an awkward angle.
‘Five minutes.’ He says.
Poppy turns to her patient, who manages to nod her head a little.
‘Very well.’ Poppy sighs, and strides off.
‘I have been informed that you intend to use this opportunity to make a cosmetic correction to a perceived imperfection in your appearance.’ Severus says.
Hermione looks up at him and shrugs.
‘Far be it from me to give a rat’s arse, but Petronella seems to feel it is my fault entirely that you are unhappy with your appearance, and therefore I find myself compelled to apologise for my comment, and attempt to dissuade you from such a notion.’ He drawls.
Hermione crosses her arms and glares at him.
‘You think I’ve never had to deal with comments about my appearance?’ Severus snaps. ‘I went through seven years of school with a nickname based solely on the size of my nose. Even now my own students ridicule my appearance daily. My nose has been broken at least half a dozen times, I could easily have had the shape adjusted, but I didn’t. Do you know why? Because it wouldn’t have mattered. You can change your nose, your hair, your teeth, but people will always find something else to criticise, something else to pick on.’ Severus takes a breath from his lecture.
Hermione is looking down at her hands now, and a tear trickles down her cheek. Severus bites back a grumble and hands her a handkerchief.
‘Fanks poffessa.’ The girl manages to say, dabbing her eye, and then her chin.
Severus sits down and sighs.
‘To take a more… optimistic view…’ He mutters as if even saying the word optimistic is offensive to him, ‘One can be assured that those who see past your imperfections truly like you for who you are. Admittedly in my case I have only found one such person, but, she is rather a remarkable one person.’ He finishes, and Granger does at least seem to really be listening for once.
‘Regardless.’ The Professor stands. ‘I have said my piece. It is entirely up to you what you do with your own face.’ He smirks slightly. ‘I find myself to be especially on edge these days, but that is not an excuse for my thoughtless words. I was attempting to convey that outward appearances should not be important to those of us who are in possession of more than half a brain. I realise that I may not have said this in the most… sensitive manner.’ He smiles stiffly again. ‘Good day Miss Granger.’ The Professor turns, and strides out of the infirmary.
~~
Hermione is back in the Gryffindor common room half an hour later.
‘Got your teeth put back to normal then.’ Ron says, with only a brief glance up.
‘Yes.’ Hermione smiles nervously.
‘Fancy a game of chess?’ Ron asks. ‘I would ask Harry but, well, you know.’ He mumbles.
‘You really should talk to him Ron.’ Hermione says, taking out the board and setting up the pieces.
‘You know he didn’t actually put his name in, and besides even if he had…’
‘I know I know.’ Ron huffs. ‘I’ve been an arse… it’s just… oh you wouldn’t get it.’
Later on Hermione stands in front of the bathroom mirror, and inspects her teeth. She had decided to keep them as they had been before in the end. It’s funny, even though they are the exact same size and shape, and they still have that odd gap in the middle, they don’t look so bad now. Perhaps it was the contrast of having been stuck with two fence posts for the past couple of hours, but she thinks maybe they do sort of suit her after all.
The fact that Professor Snape had actually apologised to her was a small miracle in itself. He had even seemed genuine, even if Professor Blishwick had bullied him into it. And she had to admit that he was right; people would always find something to criticise. Hermione had never been at all vain about her appearance, and valued brains over beauty any day of the week. She had refused her parent’s attempts to give her orthodontic treatment several times over the years, and had never pictured herself as someone who would change their appearance to fit in with society’s expectations of what was considered attractive. That was becoming a more difficult principle to stick with as she got older though.
She takes one last look at her teeth before heading off to bed. She could still have them adjusted later if she wanted to, but before she does she wants to be sure that it is because she wants it, not to please anyone else.
~~~~
Severus had been a little leery about being forced to apologise to a student, but Petra had made it up to him later, then the following day she had sent a note to both himself and Harry to meet in his quarters after classes.
Having had a free period last, she is waiting when he enters, buzzing with electric energy, her eyes shifting like storm clouds. He immediately recognises the signs that she has come up with some sort of wild plan in that beautiful clever brain of hers.
‘I think I know how to do it.’ She states, without explaining how or to what. ‘You’ve got the map?’ She says to Harry.
‘Yeah.’ Harry responds, taking the rather battered old parchment pieces out of his pocket.
Petra grabs them, and spreads them open on the table, then gestures for Harry to unlock it. The enchantment, though quite unintentionally, is particularly good at keeping her out. Petra could not at all solemnly swear that she was up to no good; the most she might claim is that she is intending to engage in a slightly dubious or ill advised activity, but the map did not recognise that incantation. If she were to use the required words, they would be a lie, and therefore her wand would refuse to cast the magic required to unlock it. It was an annoyance, but luckily her husband and son were much better liars than her.
As the walls of the castle, and footprints of it’s inhabitants are revealed on the paper, Petra pulls an unusual looking necklace from her pocket.
‘What’s that?’ Harry asks.
‘A Time-Turner.’ Severus scowls.
‘Yes and it took some persuading to convince Minerva to lend it to me I can tell you.’ Petra scowls back.
‘But I thought you were against time travel?’ Harry protests. He doesn’t precisely remember her argument against it, but he does recall sitting through an hour long lecture in class last year talking about all of the ways in which time travel was a terrible idea. Something to do with killing your own grandparents.
‘I am.’ Petra says. ‘And I assure you I have no intention of any of us undertaking such a risky endeavour. But we want to see who was in the hall between midnight and one am last Thursday, and I think this is how we do it.’
‘A word.’ Severus intones, and Harry can see the vein on his forehead pulsing like it does when his father is particularly annoyed or stressed about something.
Petra glances up looking determined, but then nods, and the two step out into the courtyard.
‘Hey!’ Harry protests, when they block the way out and put up a silencing charm. He crosses his arms and flops down onto the sofa with a huff. Why wasn’t he allowed to be part of the conversation? He glowers at the coffee table until his parents return a couple of minutes later. Severus’ cravat is slightly askew, and Harry decides maybe it was better he wasn’t party to their argument.
‘My plan is to use the time turner to essentially rewind the map.’ Petra explains to Harry.
‘Oh.’ He says. So they weren’t keeping him in the dark after all.
‘Although I am fairly sure that I can complete the spell competently, and without effecting anything outside of the parchment,’ Petra continues, ‘I cannot guarantee that the map itself will remain inviolable to any abasement.’
‘Er…’ Harry frowns.
‘It might break your map.’ Petra states.
‘Oh.’ Harry says again.
‘So, may I have your permission?’
‘My permission?’ Harry queries.
‘Well as one of the map makers was your father and two of the others have expressed their desire for it to remain in your possession, it does effectively belong to you.’ Petra says, as Severus scowls on.
Harry thinks for a moment. He has very little from his birth parents, and the map was very useful. On the other hand it had already been ripped in half, and finding out who had put his name into the Goblet was pretty vital information.
‘Do it.’ He nods.
Severus pulls Harry away from the table, then looks at Petra. Harry can imagine what their little expressions are saying to each other.
Be careful.
I will.
Petra takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. Then she picks up the time turner and carefully twists the little spindle on the side a total of ninety turns. Instead of then spinning the device to activate it, she places it onto the map, covering it with her palm.
‘Ostende quid sit praeterita.’ She intones.
The corners of the parchment flutter in an unseen breeze, then the footsteps slow to a halt, before moving in reverse, as if everyone in the castle has decided to walk backwards at the same time. Severus leans forward, and Harry with him, and they watch all the tiny little black dots speed up, hastening backwards along corridors and down stairs. Several minutes pass before the process begins to slow, and Severus fixes his eyes intently on the Great Hall.
For a second everything pauses, then the footsteps begin to move forwards again, just like a wave drawing away before flowing back towards the shore.
Severus and Petra glance at each other.
‘Did you see…?’ Severus bites out.
‘Yes.’ Petra frowns.
‘What? Who did you see?’ Harry asks urgently.
‘Watch.’ Severus states, his dark eyes still fixed on the parchment.
‘This should be around midnight on Thursday.’ Petra says.
A pair of footprints come up from the dungeons, pause in the entrance hall, then hurry across to the hall.
Igor Karkaroff The name below them states.
‘Karkaroff?!’ Harry murmurs.
‘Keep watching.’ Severus says.
Karkaroff approaches a square shape labelled “Goblet of Fire”, remains there a moment, then exits the hall and returns to the rooms labelled “Coven of Balder”.
‘Karkaroff put my name in? Why would he do that?’ Harry queries, but his parents keep watching the parchment.
Presently another name enters the hall;
Mrs Norris
Followed shortly by,
Argus Filch.
He strolls up and down the hall, but does not appear to approach the cup.
There is a long blank spell then, and Harry finds his attention wandering over the rest of the map. His parents are in their bedroom together – he quickly looks away from that. And he sees himself up in his dorm in Gryffindor tower. It occurs to him then that he has never seen himself on the map before, and it’s quite an odd feeling. They really are literally looking at the past.
‘Here he comes.’ Severus intones, and Harry snaps his gaze back to the hall.
They all watch as the neat pair of black footprints walk straight up to the cup. The name beneath them:
Bartemius Crouch
~~~~~