Courting Destiny

"You old, you are free, O mountainous Northern mainland...

Saddle your soul, let your mind fly with the blowing wind...

You persist in the memories of past glory..."

Firenze's baritone voice was loud among the gusts of wind. Harry's body swayed along with the chanting of the old song, the magic around them, sweeping across the ends of the snow-capped grass and sweeping away his cold red skin, as he spun and danced among the centaurs. His green eyes were illuminated by magic, he hummed to the singing.

"Spinning spinning is spinning, mind is entangled, look is easy...

The first stop where the road crosses...

The second stop where time and thought are no longer useful...

When your honorable name flies across the worlds..."

As she spun, the wind blew, her scarf danced in the air, her flowing black hair fluttering. The voices grew louder and louder, sung in unison.

"I want to die in the North...

"Ay... v*... I want to live in the North...." (aye, or yes in nordics)

Then, he fell down in the same arms as the silence that arose as the gusts of wind that carried the magic away.

"HARRY!" the screaming voice sounded faintly. Before long, the figure of a young man emerged from the denseness of the trees and the mound of snow, struggling to cross it with difficulty. Marcus's serious expression instantly turned relieved as his eyes fell on Harry.

"What are you doing, disappeared suddenly!" Marcus hugged him tightly, he immediately enveloped Harry in his robe, carrying him in his lap. Harry's long legs now bubbling fell to the ground. "Darling," he hissed. "What happened to you?"

Harry's green eyes looked at him blankly. A grain of tears dripped from her eyelids before vanishing in the work of the eyes. "Marcus?"

"Harry."

Harry looked at the centaurs who were sitting in a semicircle with them in the middle, "Oh..." he hugged Marcus tightly like he had found a life-saving float. He didn't remember why he was here. It's been a long time since he had an episode. Experiencing it again made him careless and afraid. He knew he couldn't control himself at such times.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Harry shook his head. Still haven't let go of Marcus. "I have a bad feeling..." she whispered.

"What?"

"Don't know. Usually it's a bad sign..." because it means that Lady Fate is taking steps to hinder her vision. It usually deals with the kind of destiny that he can't refuse... like that vision. Harry gripped Marcus's arm tightly, remembering how cold the arm was as he watched Marcus lie with blank eyes on the green tiles of the eerie room.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Marcus growled.

"Where is the Triwizart Tournament organized?"

Both of them knew it was almost impossible to resist the unlucky fate of such a situation. "Moreover, today is Halloween night..."

"The night when the veil of the world of death is thinning..." Firenze whispered. "You'd better go back. The air was too cold as soon as lady fate left."

The two wizards widened their eyes while swallowing. Slowly Marcus stood up and carried Harry in a sling. He ducked his body slightly as a goodbye. They walked through the forbidden forest and came out near the Black lake. When they came to the corridor of the Great Hall, Harry's eyes were in contact with Moody's eyeballs swirling. Those eyes kept following him even as the two had vanished at the end of the corridor.

This is a dangerous game; the life of a witch. Since they were born, grew up and finally be able to master his magic, a wizard has become accustomed to seeing danger. Maybe it was the result of their magic; when it's so easy to heal, people tend to like to play with fire. The wizard's childhood was spent watching dangerous sports, considering dragons commonplace, and splincing when apparated for the first time was natural. Muggleborns call it crazy, but for those who were born and raised in the wizarding world? All of that is commonplace.

It's not that the mad wizard doesn't know the danger. But, that doesn't prevent them from creating crazy quidditch-like games or the Triwizard Tournament. Yes, games. It's all games for those in power. Politics between the three countries ushered in the most likely children from the three magic schools risking their lives for honor, while the politicians whispered secret plans and bribed each other. Oh, not to mention all those bets. And you don't call it a game?

Barty called it.

He believes that if the word dark lord comes to power, he will not let those rotten politicians sacrifice the most potential young people in the wizarding world. He will return the wizarding world back to the right direction. Yes, the dark lord shed blood. But never the blood of a child. Well, except for one. And he stayed alive.

Harry Potter. The boy who intrigued Barty jr. was tickled. He's heard about it, he's read it in the Daily Prophet. But none of all that spectacular news mentioned that Harry Potter was a dark wizard. No one realized how dark the magic of the prince wizard was. All of that went unnoticed by them. But not Barty. That's what made him keep paying attention to Harry Potter.

From the professor's dining table, he could clearly see the Child-Yang-Surviving-Alive. Quite surprising at first, on seeing him wrapped in Slytherin colors, behaving like Slytherin and sitting in the most honorable place in Slytherin. Anyone who hears the name 'Harry Potter' must have always attributed it to gryffindor's signature bravado courage and demeanor. In fact every children's book describes the Child-The-Survivor-Alive as a Gryffindor and true light propaganda; by fighting against dragons, rescuing princess masters and even riding Unicorns.

However, it was there that he, a eel celicin, went unnoticed by everyone and secretly became King in Slytherin. It is undeniable that Harry Potter is indeed charismatic.

Swarms of owls flew in through the tall windows. Some of them carried folds of newspapers and others along with some packages of shipments from parents. The boys grabbed it impatiently, opening it excitedly. It gives a splash of nostalgia when Barty used to be a student at this school.

His own subscription newspaper slid down, thrown by his rented owl. He didn't have any thoughts when he opened the front page. But, instantly he choked and dropped his fork. Suddenly, there was a suppressive silence in the entire Great Hall.

Blood vs Magic

By: Harry Potter

It's not new news anymore that blood is considered important to wizards

It's not new news anymore that blood is considered important to wizards. He showed strength as well as nobility. There is an assumption that the purer a person's blood, the stronger the person's magic will be. It is undeniable that the purest, darkest or dangerousest magics use blood as part of their rituals.

Yes, you heard it right, the purest magic. We can take an example with the most powerful form of protection magic 'blood protection' which requires sacrifices from its impurities to make this form of protection stand firm. It is considered the purest form of white magic because doing so also means sacrificing your soul for the safety of others, selflessly. [see in the book Advanced Magic by Miranda Goshawk p 302].

But, with a heavy heart, we should put aside for a moment the interesting study in order to discuss what exactly this article was created for. Yes, blood is very important and all wizards are aware of that. And it is undeniable that in order to get blood as pure as possible, wizards do various ways, even performing inbreeding. In order to keep magic pure and keep wealth from falling into the hands of others, this practice is commonplace. Not only by wizards, but also by Muggles as early as thousands of years ago. Without knowing the consequences of it.

And so, I ask, don't any of you wonder where Squib came from? Why are children born who fade their magic power, become people who are talentless and much weaker than their parents or grandparents? Many of us accuse this of being caused by Muggles having stolen magic, but we also think they are a bunch of fools and harmless people, isn't it really contradictory?

But what if it was with a heavy heart that I told you all, that Muggles have long sunk themselves to research on inbreeding and they know with certainty the impact is as I mentioned above. We're lucky that magic spars us the worst impact, but Muggles aren't so lucky. Congenital defects, idiots and madness are what threaten them.

If you don't believe it yet, what if you take the time to visit the captivity of magical animals to chat with their handler, or read Newt Scamander's books, not once does he tell the unique attitudes of magical creatures that evolved to avoid inbreeding. Animals such as lions and dogs beat young males from their flocks to avoid inbreeding with their female siblings. Fruit flies even have a sensing mechanism to avoid possible inbreeding in their herds, so even in closed populations they retain more genetic diversity than they should with random mating. [see the book Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them p 214]

Even certain plants such as red cherries, evolved to ensure that their pistils could not be fertilized by themselves or by other genetically similar pistils. Yes, genetics, you're reading a new term familiar to Muggles. [for more details see page 17]

If you all accuse my alliance of Muggles to refute my credibility as a writer. Then, there is only one thing I need to say. Read! You're a wizard, not a fool. But if you don't believe it yet, then just as all Ravenclaws believe, "I need to warn you, if you have no picture of the future, there is no hope that a book can teach you."

After all, it's no secret that blood doesn't symbolize power because the most powerful wizards of their time had blood that wasn't as pure as we thought. Merlin has a strong blood relationship with Drakonis. Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, or even Tom Marvolo Riddle or what we know by the name of Voldemord is half-blood. Yes. You guys didn't read it wrong. How can I find out? I believe it will take a whole page of this newspaper to tell it. But believe me, if I say Voldemord was a half bood and he was the most talented wizard of his day. If it is not me, then who else has the right to know his true identity from a dark lord?

When Barty looked up from her article, Harry Potter had already vanished from the Great Hall. Leaving behind the uproar and incredulous exclamation. Next to him, Marcus took a quiet sip of his drink, but it could be clearly seen from the rising corners of his lips that he was really enjoying the uproar.

"You don't seem surprised."

Marcus threw a smile at him, "If you look at the piles of books around him, you can already guess which way the article he sent to the Daily Prophet. And looking at it now, it seems that such articles are not going to stop."

Blood does not lie. Harry Potter didn't just come from Slytherin house. But he was Slytherin. Such a person cannot stand idly by without taking advantage of his big name to do something. A very good time to write the article is now, so that it will not only be read by British wizards, but also representatives of the three magic schools. Looking at what he is doing now, it seems that Harry Potter will not alienate himself to politics like most Potters. For those who can predict the future, they will not underestimate the steps Harry Potter took. His debut as a politician must have been unusual.

Ravenclaw in him clawed curiously. That's why he hunts down Harry Potter until he finds him sitting in the Forbidden section of the Library. The young man looked up from his book tower. Her green eyes looked at him wittily every time they were in touch; it has been like that since the Samhain ritual.

"Professor Moddy, can I help you?" he used the tone of voice again when calling his name, as if comforting him.

He threw the newspaper on the table. "You're playing with fire, Potter."

The boy raised an eyebrow. He glanced at the newspaper without reading it. "Hm... Quite satisfactory, although I had to compromise with the editor of the Daily Prophet and also the photo... ukh."

"This is not the time for you to worry about your face, Potter."

Harry propped his head in a casual gesture, looking up slightly with a crooked smile as he said, "Then what should I do, Professor? Worrying about the reaction of the wizarding world? I don't care about them. Worrying about the Dark Lord? He's not that strong to be dangerous to me."

"How are you—"

"That I know if Voldemort is still alive? Dumbledore didn't tell you? I heard you're his sidekick."

"What?" then it dawned on him that Potter was talking to Moody, not Barty jr.

"I met the dark lord since my freshman year at Hogwarts. He tried hard to get up, but I blocked his steps. I'm waiting for what the next plan is, especially when the wizarding world's attention is on the Triwizard Tournament."

Barty swallowed, "If it's true. Aren't you afraid that your writing in the article will further trigger his anger?"

"What can he do? After all, from the beginning he had intended to kill me. But this is where I am, whereas he is? Maybe in the form of a spirit of nowhere, sucking the blood of the Unicorn."

"Isn't that sentence of yours too specific?"

"Oh, I know him very well. Our relationship is arguably complex," Harry grinned. "But you're here not because you're worried about me, are you?"

Barty swallowed, "You... what you wrote is true? Your theory about Squib?"

"Of course. Didn't I write down the source? You just have to go through where the source came from. I'm sure, nowadays many wizards are burning beards, and trying to prove the truth..." then as if talking to himself, he added, "Maybe I need to send you some parcels for mr. Scamander for the difficulties it will face."

Barty glanced at the pile of books between them. It seems that Harry Potter will not stop at just one article. "Werewolf?"

"Yes. Regarding the regulation of the Werewolf. I heard that Senior Undersecretary, Madam Dolores Umbridge put forward a proposal for the Werewolf to be expelled from the wizarding class and include it in magical creatures."

"You didn't agree to the proposal?"

"It's inhumane and barbaric. Wolfsbane has been created to restore again the humanity of the werewolf, there is no more reason to assume they are no longer wizards."

"Why? They are no longer a whole wizard."

"Explain to me, professor. What does a whole wizard mean? Then, what about Merlin, or even Morgana? The woman is cooperating with the demon! Does that mean they are less wizards than others?" Harry sighed, "Wizard discrimination not only makes for civil war, but also endangers the confidentiality of wizards. What would it be like if they were expelled from this community, without the knowledge to protect themselves from Muggles?"

"Protect themselves from Muggles!"

"Didn't you read my article, professor? Voldemord is Half-born!"

Barty hissed, as if not accepting the fact.

"He's Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle. The child of Merope Gaunt and a Muggle man."

"How did you find out!"

"His name is on the tapestry of the Peverell family tree." He heard Barty's gasp. "But that's not the case. You know, Muggles have solved the secrets of Squib in their research. Do you think they're not that smart? Aren't you worried about their ability to protect themselves? We are hundreds of years late if we think Muggles are still fighting with swords—"

"Then those muggle-borns! They shouldn't return to the Muggle world—"

"I don't think we need to be that extreme. Unlike Dumbledore, I don't believe in a world of Utopia where muggles and wizards can accept each other's existence. But, I don't support total segregation either. What we need right now is balance. The system is now pretty good, with the Muggle Minister knowing the wizarding world with an indisputable vow to keep the secrets of the wizarding world. We just need to develop it for the better. Especially the system in the ministry today that never addresses the real problem." Harry stared at Barty fiercely, "Do you believe it, it is safe to let the Werewolf wander around with the regulation of magical creatures? Makes them feel hunted like wild animals? Do you believe they will not unite to retaliate. What happened was not only a civil war, but a plague."

Barty swallowed. He could imagine that possibility. How can the Werewolf, who, although small in number, have speed and strength beyond ordinary wizards. Fenrir Greyback for example... there's a reason why the dark lord chose to cooperate with him even though it was against his politics.

"Do you have a book related to the article you wrote, mr. Potter?"

Harry looked surprised. "Sure, My Elf Prof. House can send it to you."

Barty nodded before finally leaving the room. What Barty didn't realize, at the moment she stepped away, the smile on Harry's face widened. And he whispered, "Hit you."

When he walked out of the library, Marcus was already waiting for Harry there—leaning against the obsidian stone wall in his formal robe. The man stood up straight when he saw it. "I suspect Professor Moody came to see you." His eyes looked at the end of the corridor. "I didn't expect him to move so fast."

"You can't stop Ravenclaw's curiosity."

"Ravenclaw?" Marcus was flabbergasted. "With such a style? I guess he's a real Gryffindor."

"Oh, yes, Professor Moddy. If he is indeed Gryffindor."

Marcus froze for a moment, as if digesting Harry's nonsense words. Then, his hand floated over Harry's arm and pulled it up in a squeak. It hissed in his ear, "Who?"

Harry patted Marcus on the shoulder, like calming a beast. "Oh, he's not a problem." Even so Harry didn't try to extricate himself. He was hanging comfortably on the burly arm. "Later you will know for yourself. But than that... it's good for us to prepare for the Halloween dinner."

The Halloween party felt longer than usual. Probably because this is the second party to be held two nights in a row. Harry wasn't so excited about eating the delicious dishes that were served in front of him for different reasons than everyone in the hall; judging from the endlessly stretched necks, the impatient expressions on all faces, anxiety, and the children who stood up many times to see if Dumbledore had finished eating, wanted the plates to be removed immediately and heard who was chosen to be the Champion.

Finally, the golden plates returned empty and gleamed clean. The voices inside the Great Hall grew louder and louder, but instantly disappeared as soon as Dumbledore got up. On his left and right, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, even Marcus looked as tense as everyone else. Ludo Bagman beamed and winked at the various children. Only Mr. Crouch seemedly uninterested, he even seemed a little bored.

"Well, the Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make up his mind," Dumbledore said.

"I estimate that it will still take another minute. After the names of the champions were read out, I asked them to come forward, walk in front of the teacher's desk, and enter the following room"—he pointed to the door behind the teacher's desk—"where the champions would receive their first instruction."

Dumbledore took out his magic wand and made a sweeping gesture with it. Simultaneously the candles, except for those in the carved yellow flask, went straight out. The room
became dim.

The Goblet of Fire now shines brighter than anything else in the entire Great Hall. Her brilliant blue-whitish tongue of fire was dazzling, making the eyes hurt. All looked at him, waiting for... Some muggle-borns look at their watches many times...

The flame inside the goblet suddenly became red again. Tongues of fire began to gush out. The next second there was a tongue of fire sliding upwards, spitting out a piece of burnt parchment. The whole
room was shocked. Dumbledore caught the parchment and stretched out his arm so that he could read it with the illumination of the flame, which had already returned to a blue-whitish color.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read in a loud and clear voice, "is Viktor Krum."

"No surprise!" shouted Ron, while boisterous applause and cheers filled
the hall.

Draco clapped loudly. Victor stood up with a smile. He patted Draco lightly on the shoulder, blinking one eye at him. Made the boy instantly bright red. He turned right, walked past the teacher's desk, and disappeared through the door into the designated room. "Bravo, Viktor!" karkaroff's voice was palpable, so that everyone could hear it, beating the sound of applause. "I know you're the champion!"

The applause and cheers subsided. Now everyone's attention is on the Goblet of Fire again, which in the next second, once again turned red. The second parchment was ejected by his tongue of fire.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore said, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Harry blinked as he realized who was being called. The girl waved goodbye to him, making Ron exclaim in astonishment. "You know him?" whispered Blaise, which also made Draco turn his head curiously.

"I met him this summer at Lord Delacour's dance party," Harry whispered.

"It's not that his home is in France?" whispered Draco in surprise. His eyes sparkled with admiration at the realization that Harry was already allowed to go far. "Lord Flint is so generous..."

"That's because Harry is de facto a lord. He's just waiting for the 16-year-old to make it formal," Blaise explained.

Fleur Delacour tossed her silvery blonde hair, and walked between ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's table.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Pancy said, nodding towards the rest of the Beauxbatons' entourage
.

It wasn't just "disappointed," Harry thought. The two unselected girls shed tears and sobbed, burying their heads in their arms. After Fleur Delacour also disappeared into the room provided, the hall was quiet again, but this time the silence was very tense.

Next is the Hogwarts champion. And the Goblet of Fire turned red once again, sparks gushed out, tongues of fire shot high upwards, and from its peak Dumbledore pulled the third parchment.
"The Hogwarts champion," he said, "is Cedric Diggory!"

"No!" said Ron loudly, but no one heard it except Harry. The uproar at the next table was too big. All the Hufflepuff children had stood up, clamoring and throbbing their feet, as Cedric walked past them, smiling broadly, towards the room behind the teacher's desk. The applause for Cedric lasted for a long time, so that it was only a while later that Dumbledore's voice could be heard again.

"Awesome!" exclaimed Dumbledore cheerfully after the uproar subsided. "Well, now our three champions have been selected. I am confident that I can count on all of you, including the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give full support to your champions. By encouraging your champions, you will contribute to su..."

Suddenly Dumbledore stopped talking, and it was clear to everyone what had distracted him. The fire inside the goblet just turned red again. Sparks were flying. The long tongue of fire suddenly slid upwards, and at its peak there was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, Dumbledore stretched out his hand snatching the parchment. He held it and stared at the name written on it.

"Harry Pot—" suddenly the paper burned with blue flames, Dumbledore automatically dropped it. The blue flame erased the writing there, leaving a jet-black paper with shiny silver letters on it.

Harry took a hard breath. Instantly the world narrowed. All the possibilities that exist become only one certainty. At the same time, Dumbledore's voice was palpable. "Hadrian James Peverell."

A soul-touching silence enveloped the great hall at the sound of the unfamiliar name. Instantly Marcus stood up with a look of horror. Harry swallowed. "Hadrian James Peverell," Dumbledore repeated as he floated his gaze, which ended up falling to Harry.

Slowly Harry got up. One or two coconuts turned to him, before finally being followed by the other.

"Peverell?"

"Peverell!?"

There was no applause. A loud hum, like a swarm of angry bees, began to fill the hall. Several children stood up so that they could see Harry more clearly. Professor Prince stood up instantly with a horrified face. Marcus preceded him by walking quickly until his cloak fluttered, came over to Harry and stood covering him with his massive body. His eyes looked fiercely at anyone trying to throw a sneer. He acted as if he wanted to protect Harry from reality. But Harry knew no one could protect him from this. His trembling hand reached out and gripped Marcus's arm tightly. His face was ashen.

At the teacher's desk, Professor McGonagall got up from his chair and rushed past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff, whispering seriously to Professor Dumbledore, who
was poking his head at him, frowning slightly.
Harry turned to Draco.

"I didn't put my name in," Harry said puzzled.

Behind him, he saw all the children at slytherin's long table put on serious faces. Some of them nodded. Slytherin knew it wasn't Harry's type to lie or harm himself; The Triwizart Tournament is not the kind of game that can be played carelessly. They were more surprised by Harry's name change than the others. All children born in the wizarding world know very well with Peverell's fairy tales.

At the teacher's desk, Professor Dumbledore had already sat upright again, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Hadrian James Peverell!" he called again. "Please come forward here!"

"There," Draco whispered as he somewhat pushed Harry. His face was as pale as his hair. "Good luck," she whispered before letting go of her grip.

Harry stepped up, stepped on the edge of his robe, and staggered slightly. Marcus instantly caught it. He pulled Harry halfway up his way through the sidelines between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. It felt like the journey was very long, and he could feel the weight of the eyes looking at him, like spotlights. The buzzing sound is getting louder and louder. After a taste of an hour, he arrived in front of Dumbledore, feeling the gazes of all the teachers to him.

"Well... through that door, Harry," Dumbledore said. He didn't smile.

Harry moved past the teacher's desk. Hagrid sat at the very end. He neither winked at Harry, nor waved, nor gave him any of his usual greetings. He looked very astonished and just gawked at him like the others when Harry passed by.

Harry passed through the door and turned out to be inside a smaller room, along which were lined up paintings of male and female wizards. The fire blazed in the fireplace opposite the room. The faces in the painting turned their heads to look at him when he came in. He saw an old female wizard who had been whizzing to death and entered the pigura next to him featuring a male wizard with a sea bear mustache. The magic grandmother kisut whispered in her ear.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour swarmed in front of the fireplace. They looked very impressive, forming silhouettes against the backdrop of the flames. Krum, who looked seriously, was leaning against the fireplace shelf, somewhat separated from his two friends. Cedric stood with his hands behind his back, looking at the fire. Fleur Delacour turned away as Harry came in and tossed her long silvery hair.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Do they want us to go back to the hall?" Fleur thought she had come to deliver the message. Harry didn't know how to explain what had just happened. The girl looked at Marcus and Harry in turn, as if finally realizing something strange. Marcus pulled Harry on one of the empty couches and sat him on his lap. He put his arms around protectively. His face was immersed in the nape of Harry's neck while hissing.

There were footsteps behind the door, and Ludo Bagman walked in. "Awesome!" he murmured, as he tried to pull Harry's arm to take him forward, but soon backed away at the sight of Marcus. "It's really amazing! Brothers," he said to the three people in front of the fireplace. "Let me introduce even if it sounds absurd the fourth Triwizard champion."

Viktor Krum stood up straight. His sour face turned dark as he watched Harry. Cedric looked dumbfounded. He looked at Bagman, then Harry, returned to Bagman again, as if sure he must have heard it wrong. But Fleur Delacour tossed her hair, smiled, and said, "Oh, it's so funny the joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, confused. "No, no, not a joke at all! Harry's name just emerged from inside the Goblet of Fire! Even if not under the name Harry Potter."

Those who heard it looked at him more and more strangely.

"What do you mean?" said Fleur.

"What came out was the name hadrian James Peverell."

Krum's thick eyebrows twitched slightly. Cedric still looked astonished. Fleur frowned. "But there must be a fallacy," Fleur told Bagman in a harassing tone. "He's Harry Potter, not Peverell..." his voice didn't sound sure. Then, he shook his head, "it's not important. He couldn't compete. He is still too small!"

"Well... it's a surprise," Bagman said, rubbing his slippery chin and looking down smiling at Harry. "But, as you know, age restrictions were implemented this year only as an extra security measure. And since his name came out from inside the trophy... I mean, I don't think I can resign anymore at this stage... It has been stated in the regulations, you must... Harry must try his best..."

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people walked in: Professor Dumbledore, followed by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Prince. Harry heard the buzzing of hundreds of children behind the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur immediately exclaimed, approaching her principal, "They said this little kid will come to the competition!"

Under the feeling of numbness because of his disbelief, Harry felt a ripple of anger. Child? He knows he is a minor, but that doesn't mean he is a child. He pouted towards Fleur. "Oh, Harry, I'm afraid!" he hugged Harry, not caring about Marcus. "You're a kid..."

"I'm fifteen," he grumbled.

"It's still small!"

Marcus cleared his throat. Pulled Harry again into his lap.
Madame Maxime stood up straight. The apex of his head swept across the candlestick full of candles, and his huge chest covered with satin robes seemed to be inflated.

"What does this mean, Dumbly-dorr?" said Madame Maxime haughtily.

"I want to know too, Dumbledore," Professor Karkaroff chimed in. His smile was sharp and his blue eyes were like ice flakes. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me that the host school can apply for two champions, I didn't read the rules carefully?" He laughed short and harshly.

"That's impossible," madame Maxime said, her big hand adorned with beautiful opals placed on Fleur's shoulders. "Hogwarts can't have two champions. That's very unfair."

"We don't think your Age Limit Circle will be able to pass by underage enthusiasts, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said, his cynical smile still plastered, but his eyes colder than before. "If you know, of course we will bring more candidates from our school."

"It's nobody's fault, I know Harry didn't put his name in," Severus said quietly. His black eyes lit up full of hatred. "Whoever puts him in intends to harm him. The goblet of fire does not prevent adults from putting children's names there..."

"Indirectly you also showed there was a form of cheating!" snapped Karkaroff.

"To harm him!"

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said firmly, and Severus was silent immediately, although his eyes were still burning. Professor Dumbledore now lowered his eyes looking at Harry, who looked back at him, trying to digest the meaning of the eye expression behind the moon-separo glasses. He believed in his Occlumency training to prevent Dumbledore from reading his mind more than he should have.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," Harry replied. "If I put it in. I'll put in with Harry Potter's name."

He was well aware that everyone was watching him.

"Do you know why that name came out?"

"That's my magic name, principal."

Everyone who heard him gasped.

Dumbledore nodded. "That means you heir of the Potter and Peverell families?"

Harry shook his head. "There is no Potter family. Potter is Peverell."

A tense silence enveloped the room. In the end Dumbledore nodded. "This is not the right time for this kind of private affair. But seeing you realize it's your name, now the Goblet of Fire magic binds you to become a Champion."

"This is really unfair! Hogwarts has two Champions!"

"Ah, surely he's lying!" exclaimed Madame Maxime. Severus now shook his head, his lips curled up in annoyance. "He must have told the older child to cross the Age Boundary Circle."

"Haven't we all agreed... or Dumbly-door is doing a mischief to the Age Limit Circle!"

"It's possible," Dumbledore said politely.

"Dumbledore, you know for sure, you didn't make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall furiously. "What nonsense! Harry couldn't have crossed the line himself, and since Professor Dumbledore Believed he didn't persuade an older child to do it for him, I think it should be good enough for everyone!"

Kakaroff threw a look of wrath at Professor Prince.

"Mr. Crouch... Mr. Bagman," Karkaroff said, his voice sweetened again to take heart, "You two,.. Er... objective judges. Surely you think this incident is very unusual?"

Bagman wiped his childish round face with a handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the halo of the fireplace, his face as deep as hidden in the dimness. He looked a bit hideous. This half-dark space made him appear much older, making him look almost like a skull. But When he spoke, his voice was stiff as usual.

"We must abide by the rules, and the rules clearly state that those
whose names emerge from within the Goblet of Fire are required to compete in the tournament."

"Well, mr. Bartemius Crouch memorized the rules from front to back," Bagman said beamingly and turned his head back to look at Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as if the matter had settled.

"I demand that I re-enter the names of my students who have not been selected," Karkaroff said. Now she had stripped off her sweet-sweet voice and also
her smile. His face became so horrible. "You guys will put up the Goblet of Fire once again, and we will continue to enter names, until each school has two champions. So just fair, Dumbledore."

"But, Karkaroff, that's not the case," Bagman said. "The Goblet of Fire has just been extinguished he won't be on again until the start of the upcoming tournament."

"... which durmstrang will obviously not follow!" Karkaroff exploded. "Given that we have so many meetings, negotiations, and compromises, I didn't expect this kind of thing to happen at all! I'm half thinking about going home now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff!" came a growling voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He has to compete. All have to compete. Bound by a magic contract, as Dumbledore said." Moody just entered the room. He walked lamely in the direction of the fireplace, and every step of his right foot made a loud tok sound. "I'm sure someone put Potter's name in that trophy, knowing Potter had to compete when his name came up."

"It must be a person who is willing to give Hogwarts a double chance!" said Madame Maxime.

"I agree, Madame Maxime," Karkaroff said bowing in front of her. "I will raise objections to the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Magic..."

"If anyone has any reason to object to Potter that's the man," Moody growled,

"but... strangely... I didn't hear him say a word..."

"Why should he object? He has a chance to compete, right? We've all been hoping to get elected for weeks! A great honor for our school! And the prize money of one thousand Galleons... many are willing to die for this opportunity!"

"Maybe someone wished Potter had died for it," Moody said, his voice a little furious.

An extremely tense silence caught up with these words of his. Ludo Bagman, who looked very anxious, tiptoed tensely and said, "Moody... why talk so!"

"Ah! is there any evidence?" said Madame Maxime, raising her two
big hands.

"Because he managed to outwit a magic thing that was so amazing in his prowess!" said Moody. "It took an extraordinarily powerful Confundus Spell to make the trophy forget that there are only three schools competing in this tournament... According to my guess they put Potter's name under the name of the fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category..."

"How did this situation come about, we don't know" Dumbledore said, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "However, it seems to me that we have no other choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been selected to compete in the tournament. Therefore, they will compete..."

"Ah, but, Dumbly-dorr..."

Suddenly, there was a sound of the door being opened. Then a figure of a man in a black robe and a hood covering his head walked into the room. "If Hogwarts rejects mr Peverell as a Champion, then we will accept him as a Champion of avalon school." The man dropped his hood, revealing a charming face framed by black hair. A familiar face to Harry.

"Who..." Ludo Bagman whispered. Professor Dumbledore and Barty sr instantly paled.

His big smile showed the sharp edge of his fangs. "Introduce, Alexander Ravnos, the principal of the Avalon magic school."

"Avalon?! The school is just a fairy tale!"

"Just like magic to Muggles, Ludo Bagma?"

The man was horrified at the sharp ends of his teeth.

"But Harry is a Hogwarts student!" exclaimed Fleur.

"Oh, it doesn't matter to Avalon. Wherever Hadrian Peverell is, Avalon is his legacy as it is also home to all the descendants of Myrddin."

"Myrddin? Merlin?!"

The vampire man raised his eyebrows, thinking it was funny Ludo Bagman's reaction.

"Principal Alexander Ravnos..." Dumbledore moved over.

"Just call Alexander," he warmly welcomed Dumbledore's handshake. "It's an honor to meet a legend in person."

"Ah... is by no means worth the honor of being able to meet the representative of the oldest magic school in the wizarding world. Not everyone can set foot there..." Alexander just smiled, not provoked to explain more about his school. The man's eyes fell on Harry.

"Hello, Heir Peverell."

"Mr. Alexander," Harry shook the man's hand.

"Heir Marcus."

"Sir," Marcus nodded, but offered no hand that was still wrapped around Harry's waist. "You... come by myself?" there was a covert question on the sentence, as if asking how he got into Hogwarts alone.

"I came with some Avalon delegates. They are waiting in the Great hall." The answer didn't really answer Marcus's curiosity. If the reason is because the man is a Vampire and the Hogwarts ward is impenetrable to him, then it is quite terrible for Hogwarts safety. But Marcus immediately remembered that vampire purebloods could turn into bats. Just like animagus, they are unobstructed.

"Ah! If so, we can't waste time," Dumbledore said, "How is Harry?"

"I agree with this deal, sir. I think this is the fairest solution. I will represent Avalon."

There was a trace of sadness in Dumbledore's eyes. But the man nodded, "Then we have already agreed. Now, let's listen to the mission for the Champions."

"Yes," said mr Crouch, "instructions. Yes... the first task..." He moved forward into the light of the fireplace. Up close, Harry barricaded, he was like a sick man. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his wrinkled skin seemed to be like dry paper. Although the timing of the Quidditch World Cup is not so. "The first task is designed to test your courage," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "then we won't tell you, what the task is. The courage to face the unknown is an important quality for a wizard... very important... The first task will take place on the twenty-fourth of November, in front of all the disciples and the jury. Champions are not allowed to request or receive any kind of assistance from their teachers to complete tasks in this tournament. The champions will face this first challenge only armed with their wands. They will receive information about the second task after the first task is completed. Considering that this tournament is very tough and time-consuming, the champions are exempt from taking the final exams of the school year." Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's enough, right, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who looked at Mr. Crouch with some some concern.

"That's right you don't want to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I have to go back to the Ministry," Mr. Crouch said. "Right now we're very busy, in trouble... I left that young Weatherby to take responsibility... So enthusiastic... it's a bit too much of an enthusiasm, actually..."

"You want to drink first before going home, at least?" asked Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying overnight!" said Bagman cheerfully. "There is a major event at Hogwarts now, right, it's much more exciting than in the office!"

"I don't think so, Ludo," Crouch said, somewhat impatient as before. He said to Dumbledore, "I believe you have already thought about accommodation for the Avalon magic school. If so, I'll leave the rest to you."

Madame Maxime had already put her arms around Fleur's shoulders and led her quickly to leave the room. Harry could hear the two speak fast once in French as they entered the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and
they also left, but in silence. Harry and Marcus walked behind Professor Alexander.

In the Great Hall, the Avalon delegation was waiting for them, standing at the door of the Hall while being watched by the students and professors. Harry recognized the two young men standing there. They are Hacan Tremere and Seth Ravnos. The hall was so quiet with all the strange events that happened tonight. Dexterously, Dumbledore took over. The man swung his wand gently, instantly the Great Hall widened with the crackling and splinters of light, making room for a long bewitched table to appear in its center. The old man motioned Alexander to sit down in the empty seat that suddenly appeared by his side.

"Good night, kids. Thank you for waiting. Before we end the Halloween party tonight, let's give a proper welcome to Principal Alexander Ravnos and the two delegates of the Avalon school of magic." The three principals applauded and slowly followed the others, although the applause was not filled with enthusiasm, instead of confusion. Harry parted ways with Marcus in front of the teacher's desk; Marcus sat back to his place and Harry sat down at the table that had just appeared with Hacan and Seth.

"Hey, begli occhi," Seth greeted.

"What?"

"He praised your eyes," Hacan said indifferently. He was busy sipping his red wine, which Harry suspected was fresh blood. It's no surprise that Hogwarts is as accommodating as it is. "How can you guys know if I'm elected Champion?" asked Harry as his one ear listened to Dumbledore.

"For those who have never heard of it, the Avalon magic school is the oldest magic school in the wizarding world. Once guarding the secret, even only a handful of wizards know the existence of the school which is considered part of the fairy tale. Tonight we have been given the honor to meet the representative of the magic school formed by Merlin himself. Considering that this tournament got four Champions this time, then mr. Potter will represent the Avalon school of magic."

Seth replied with his signature slanted smile, "We don't know. We just happened to be watching on the ceiling when the uproar happened."

"So the Avalon school doesn't know your behavior?"

"Hey! It's all alexander's fault. the two of us had nothing to do. I thought the man didn't accept their treatment of you as the Heir of Avalon."

Harry flushed. "I'm not Heir Avalon..."

"Aye, aye, you're just Harry Potter."

They stopped talking when they heard Dumbledore's voice shrill, "Welcome. The Hall of Hogwarts warmly welcomes you guys." The welcome was uttered in an ancient manner, in honor of the Avalon school of magic. Alexander smiled and nodded.

After the banquet was over, one by one the students left Hogwarts. Marcus stood with avalon's quarters to explain the accommodation that night. While Harry returned to Slytherin House.

The moment he entered the dormitory room, a group of students composed of all members of the Knight of Walpurgin and Most of the seniors were already waiting for him. Antonio Dolohov slowly advanced, and lowered his body until he rested on only one leg. Harry looked at him puzzled as the young man grabbed his left hand and pecked it, right at the lord's ring that was now visible to the naked eye, saying, "The Dolohov family declared its alliance to you, my lord."

"What..."

"So did the Malfoy family declare its alliance to Lord Peverell."

One by one they all declared an oath of allegiance.

Harry stood there. It seems that he forgot the one most important thing about this Triwizart Tournament affair. That by being selected as the champion, magic automatically already recognizes him as an adult. And of course that means that he has now officially become a Lord of the noble and most ancient house of Peverell and indirectly also became the Lord of two more manors; Melin and Slytherin. Although the last two names have lost their glory, they are more valuable than any gold and make him the lord of the oldest remaining wizard surname in this world.

That night, in Wizengamot Hall, one seat appeared to complete the circle of seats of the house of lords. The Peverel triangle appears in a dark green emblem fluttering falling; hovered over that chair.