Champions and Friends
[31 October, 2004]
"Harry Potter."
The silent hall turned into a noisy mess as everyone started whispering to each other. Several students stood up to look over at the Gryffindor table. Light followed their gaze to find a stunned, messy haired teenager with glasses. A teenager who was clearly underage.
"It's him," Ryuk said, his eyes shining a sickly mix of yellow and red in the candle light. "Oh, I should have known. Deridovley bet on him, ya know? He's good at gambling, that Deridovley. Do you think he cheats, Light-o? Oh, of course he does. No one can win so many times otherwise. Not that idiot. One time he bet against Nu-"
"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called out. Light turned to look at the headmaster. Minerva McGonagall was standing next to him, her lips pinched and brows furrowed. "Harry! Up here, if you please!" The boy stood up, stumbled and walked over to Dumbledore with the same blank expression as before. Dumbledore wasn't smiling when he redirected Potter to the side room. The whispers turned into full blown chatter as Potter left the room.
"See ya later, Light. I need to get my front row seats," Ryuk called out and followed behind Potter through the wall, his eyes focused on his new source of entertainment. For the first time since they met, Ryuk looked like the Shinigami he was. Light swallowed and to turned Flitwick at his side.
"What do you think is going on?" Light asked, voice low.
"I don't know," Flitwick whispered back. "There is no way Mr Potter could have crossed the Age Line. He could have asked an older student to do it. But then, Hogwarts has two champions. If Mr Potter had his name entered by an older student, then Hogwarts would have had only one champion, not two."
"Do you think someone entered him under a fourth school?" Light asked, mind going over the Runes of the Goblet and their prior discussion about its magic.
"Could be," Babbling said as she entered the conversation. She tilted her head towards the Goblet. "The Goblet doesn't have a limit on the number of 'schools'. Having only one champion from a fourth school would have guaranteed the person being selected. But I think it's a powerful Confundus charm rather than a fourth school. The delay between the announcement of the three champions and Mr Potter was too big to have been a fourth school."
"So, someone took advantage of the time between the three champions being announced and everyone getting distracted by Dumbledore's speech to cast a Confundus charm on the Goblet and get Potter-san's name," Light concluded.
"Yes, that seems most likely." Flitwick nodded. There was a flurry of activity behind them and Light turned to see Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Maxime, Moody, Snape and McGonagall enter the same room as the champions had before.
Light frowned. The other people made sense, but why was Snape being included in a discussion about the tournament? Unless... Dumbledore thought it was a Death Eater plot to get Harry Potter killed. Snape, being his spy, would have the most information in this case. But, why would a Death Eater want to kill some random kid attending school?
What was he missing?
*****
[1 November, 2004]
"From today onwards, our guest schools will be joining in our lessons," McGonagall reminded them at the end of their monthly staff meeting. "I hope everyone has had a chance to prepare for it?" Light doubted anyone could forget. Twenty four additional students in their classes would be hard to miss. Fortunately, Light only taught an elective and not any of the core subjects. "That's all then. Is there anything else...?" McGonagall trailed off.
"Yes," Light said. McGonagall's eyes turned to him. "Does Potter-san need to compete in the Triwizard Tournament? Or is there a way out for him?" McGonagall pursed her lips.
"No," she said and sighed. "Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman were pretty clear. Mr Potter must compete."
"But he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire," Light stated.
"There's no proof that he did or did not," Snape said curtly. Light's eyes slid to him and held his gaze for a while. Snape's hatred of Potter made more sense now that Light knew who Harry Potter actually was — the defeater of Dark Lord Voldemort, Snape's previous Lord and employer. Still, Light would not let the petty bitterness of an ex-terrorist distract him from his question. He turned to look back at McGonagall. He could feel Snape's glare at the side of his face at this blatant dismissal.
"He did not," McGonagall replied firmly. "Nor did he ask an older student to put his name in."
"Then," Light hesitated to continue. McGonagall gave him a curious look. Having her hooked, Light finished, "this is attempted murder." The room went silent. "Has anyone called the Aurors?"
"The Aurors?" McGonagall frowned. "That wouldn't help. Mr Potter would still have to participate in the Tournament. It's a magically enforced contract." Light got the sinking feeling that she hadn't even thought about calling the police for attempted murder. A quick look around the room confirmed that no one else had either.
"The question isn't whether Potter-san has to participate in the Tournament. That cannot be undone. However, the Tournament itself is lethal. It has barely been made safe for adult participants. Thus, Potter-san's name coming out of the Goblet is attempted murder," Light explained slowly. "And if he dies, then it would become actual murder. In an international tournament."
"That's the problem, Yagami," Moody said. Light turned to look at him. "This is an international tournament reinstated with the condition that it's made safe for the students. Admitting that one of them can die? Is admitting they fucked up and that all champions can die. It would be a scandal! A lot of people's careers are riding on this. Potter's entry in this tournament is being sold as a good thing so the Ministry doesn't have to admit their fuck up."
"That's ridiculous," Pomona Sprout said, concerned. "The Tournament was made safe for students who are of age. Mr Potter is underage."
"Three years don't make much of a difference in their minds," Moody pointed out. "They will just ignore the fact that Potter didn't put his name in and focus on how amazing it is there are four champions in the Triwizard Tournament instead."
"Ministry incompetence is not our purview," Flitwick said. "Our duty is to the students, not the scandal the Ministry will have. They might not take our complaint seriously, but reporting it will be a start. Minerva, what do you think?"
"If we report it, they might say it was the fault of Dumbledore's age line," McGonagall thought out loud. "But the Ministry themselves didn't put in any safety from their side. So it was not completely his fault. You're right, Filius. Our duty is to the students, not the scandals that it will create." She took in a deep breath and continued.
"I'll call in the Aurors."
*****
[1 November, 2004]
The class right after the start of the Triwizard Tournament was hell to teach. The students were all too excited with the selection of the champions, Potter 'cheating' to become a fourth champion, what the tasks would be, talking about their foreign students, taking bets, talking more about Potter, and 'Cedric- the real Hogwarts champion', being used as a slogan here and there. It was a mess. Light threw out the topic he had intended to cover and decided on something similar.
"Since everyone is talking about the Triwizard Tournament," Light started. "Do you know, Muggles have a similar tournament that takes place every four years?"
"A muggle Triwizard Tournament?" Katie asked, eyes shining with interest.
"Yes. Like the Triwizard Tournament, the Olympics are held every four years and consist of several sport categories. There are a few differences," Light said. "First, it's between countries not between schools. Second, everyone only participates in the sport they're good at. Third, it's held between professional athletes. Fourth, they are all adults."
"You only get to participate in one sport?" Pucey asked. "Sounds boring." The boy had calmed down a lot after Light had returned his first essay noticeably alive and whole. The second essay that Light had marked down and handed back last week had him surprisingly subdued. Light hoped the change would be permanent. It was different when L was trying to defeat him verses when some random kid thought they could kill him. The former was dangerous and exhilarating — a game of ideals and pride with an equal. The later was just annoying.
Which made Light come to a horrifying realization: He had pointed out Potter deserved to report his attempted murder to the Aurors but had not reported his own attempted murder by Adrian Pucey to the Aurors. In fact, he had pushed it off as if it didn't matter at all. Sure, Light lived through it. That wasn't the point. The point was, someone had tried to kill him and he had let the boy go because he was more insulted by the essay said student had written.
Was the lack of logic in the Wizarding World infectious? Or did Light brush it off because he hadn't actually been hurt? Because it was a student who tried it? Because he felt the student who tried it was insignificant? Or was it another decision influenced by the Death Note? No, as much as Light wanted to say it was the Death Note, it wasn't. Nor had it been because of the Wizarding World. Truth was, Light had become desensitized to death and threats to his life. Ever since he had picked up the Death Note and made himself kill criminals. Ever since he had met L and the threats to his life had become so common that he took it in stride.
Thus, Adrian Pucey got away with attempted murder with loosing mere house points and some detention.
Light pushed past this thought and continued on with his class.
"The sport you're good at doesn't mean only one game. There are several categories even within the same sport: Single player, doubles, different time constraints. Many ways the same game can be played in different ways," Light explained. "This way, a lot of people can participate. Not just three or four. And since people sign up for the sport they're at good at, they can show off what they're best at. Imagine a Gobstones player competing in Quidditch. Or the other way around, a professional Quidditch player joining an international Gobstones Tournament. Not fair, right?"
"That's true," Pucey agreed grudgingly. "They canceled Quidditch this year because of the Triwizard Tournament. If it was like this muggle Tournament, then a lot more people would get to play than just three. And Quidditch wouldn't be canceled."
"The history of the Olympic games goes back just as long as the Triwizard Tournament," Light said, now fully committed to spending this day teaching about the Olympics. He ignored Ryuk's antics at the back of the class with practiced ease — pretending to eat a student's head while standing on the ceiling with his jaws open wide was definitely horror movie material — and continued on. "The history of the Games goes back around 3000 years. Sports contests organized at Olympia took place every four years and acquired the name Olympic Games. There's no exact date, but 776 BC is often cited as the start in written sources. Interesting fact: the four-year interval between the Ancient Games editions was named an “Olympiad”. It was used for dating purposes. Time was counted in Olympiads rather than years."
*****
[1 November, 2004]
"Did you know muggles have this game called Olympics-" "-they used to count time between 'Olympiads' instead of years-" "-imagine counting time by 'Triwizards'-" "-wicked, right?"
"Did they cover Olympics in class today because of the Triwizard Tournament?" Hermione asked. She served herself vegetables from the nearest plate as she spoke. "That's smart. I regret not taking Muggle Studies this year. It definitely sounds an improvement over last year."
"And it's been around longer than Hogwarts has been. 776 BC. Hogwarts was founded in the tenth century, around 990 AD," Katie said. "Never knew muggle sports and tournaments had been around so long. You know muggles have their own society and their own way of doing things without magic, but knowing is different from actual knowing."
"In 776 BC, muggle and wizard society were the same. It's probable some wizards also participated in the Olympics," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Do you think we have records that old? I'm already researching the Triwizard Tournament. It would be interesting to check out the wizard side of the Olympics as well. Who knows, they might even be related." Hermione was distracted when the Gryffindor table suddenly into applause. She looked over to see Harry had just entered the room.
"Harry!" She raised her hand and waved him over. Looking sullen and red in face, Harry slid into the empty space next to her. "So?" she asked. Harry looked at her blankly. "Did you talk to Ron?"
"No," Harry said and focused on heaping food on his plate. "I told him I didn't do it. If he wants to get angry and believe all those horrible rumors over his friend then its his fault, not mine. He should talk to me, not the other way around."
"I told you-"
"Hey Harry," Collin said from behind him. Harry jumped, startled. Collin shoved a piece of paper in his hands. "McGonagall told me to give it to you. It's so cool you got selected as the champion in the Tournament. Could you take a picture with me and Dennis? We want to send it home and show them the Tournament."
"Er- sure," Harry said. He stuffed the paper in the his pocket and gave Collin an awkward smile. "Later. But I didn't put my name in the Cup."
"You're still a Champion!" Collin exclaimed. "I'm sure you will win this. Best of luck!"
"Thanks," Harry murmured as Collin went just as swiftly as he had come. The message from McGonagall burned hot in his pocket. Was this it? Did McGonagall not believe him? Was she going to expel him? Or was it the Ministry? Did someone get the letter he had sent the letter to Sirius this morning?
Hermione gave him a curious look and Harry shook his head. He'd open the message from McGonagall and share it with Hermione, but not here. "Dorms", he mouthed silently and Hermione nodded.
*****
[2 November, 2004]
Hermione skipped lunch to make her way to the Gryffindor Common Room. She had not seen Harry since that morning when he had gone to McGonagall's office and she was getting worried. What if the only way to keep Harry out of the Tournament was to expel him? What if they sent Harry back to the Dursleys for the year? That would be the worst case scenario. Hermione was sure she could convince her parents to take in Harry for the year. They would have to come up with some sort of excuse, but she was reasonably certain she could pass Harry off as a distant cousin.
"Harry," she called out when she saw her friend sitting in front of the Common Room fire. She made her way over, dumped her books on the nearest table and sat next to him on the couch. "What was it? Is it good news or bad? You look shocked. Is everything alright?"
"Aurors," Harry whispered. Hermione blinked.
"What?"
"McGonagall called the Aurors," he whispered.
"Are you in trouble?" Hermione asked. If there was something they could do, she would help him. If Lockhart had taught her anything, it was that a well-placed Obliviate and some Polyjuice could solve almost all problems. She even knew who among her third year cohorts had access to the time-turner this year. This was rather short notice for a plan, but if McGonagall had called the Aurors, then Harry going back to the Dursleys was the best case scenario, not the worst.
"No, no," Harry shook his head and continued, "I'm not. That's the thing, Hermione. They — McGonagall, she believed me. She called the Aurors because she really thought someone is trying to kill me. Dumbledore and Moody were both there and they testified it couldn't be me and — Hermione. Hermione, they believe me."
"Of course," Hermione said. She had never doubted for a second that their teachers didn't believe Harry. But this was big. They had called the Aurors in because someone was trying to kill her best friend. Finally, after three years, an adult was trying to help. Not in a mere lip service way, with things going on in the background that they didn't tell them about. No. This was visible, tangible proof. Hermione turned in her seat and wrapped her arms around Harry. Harry leaned into her hug.
"This doesn't feel real," Harry murmured. "Someone put my name in the Goblet, and I had dreamed about being a Champion but I didn't actually want it and then my name came out and all the rest know lots of magic and I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid came for me and people have died, Hermione, but Ron doesn't believe me and someone wants to kill me and they believe me." Hermione rubbed Harry's back, trying to soothe him. "This feels like a dream. The Aurors said they will investigate the Goblet but it's likely they wont find anything. But they know. Hermione, they know and they believe me and someone is trying to kill me."
"Not for the first time," Hermione joked. Harry laughed, hysterical. Hermione herself couldn't believe it. She knew, rationally, that adults cared and they often had the answers to her questions. But in her three years at Hogwarts, any adult she had gone to with any important information hadn't believed her or had not taken action on it until it was too late. This was unreal.
This was real.
"I don't know," Harry said, voice shaky. Hermione knew he was going to cry. That was alright. She was there. And Ron would eventually come around when it became clear that Harry hadn't put his name in the Goblet. Aurors believed Harry. Surely Ron would see sense too. "I never thought someone would believe me. It was normal, you know. And now when someone does, everything just-"
"It feels scary," Hermione completed. Harry nodded. They sat there in silence, Harry's shaky breaths the only sound in the empty Common Room.
"They told me they'll make an announcement during dinner," Harry said finally. Hermione realized that meant Ron would be kicking himself and come over to apologize soon. "Don't tell Ron I cried."
"There's nothing wrong with crying," Hermione countered. Still, she patted Harry on the back. "I won't. Don't worry. Your pride is safe."
Distantly, Hermione heard the clock strike and chime, signaling the start of afternoon classes. She ignored them in favor of sitting with her best friend. McGonagall would understand.
*****
[3 November, 2004]
The announcement of the Auror investigation into Harry's attempted murder changed everyone's opinion towards him overnight. The Gryffindors looked insulted, that someone had tried to kill one of their own. Overnight, the Potter Stinks badges had disappeared. Several of the Hufflepuffs in Harry's classes had approached him to apologize, wishing him best of luck to try and stay alive. Harry, on the other hand, wished they would stop doing that. He did not need a periodic reminder of his impending death.
For the first time in Harry's stay at Hogwarts, everyone was now united in their conviction that Harry was a victim and not a glory seeking cheater. Even Malfoy seemed to have stopped his taunts.
"That is because no one wants to joke about your death and then get interrogated by the Aurors," Hermione told him during Charms. They were learning the Summoning Charms and Hermione was making objects zoom across the room to her, one at a time. Harry tried to summon the feather on his desk. He failed, once again.
"Hasn't stopped Professor Trelawney from predicting my death in every class," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the feather with even more force. Hermione shook her head, exasperated, and showned Harry the correct wand movement again.
"She's a hack," Hermione said bluntly. "You should drop that class and take something more productive instead. Like-" There was an explosion at the desk behind them. Harry and Hermione flinched and looked back. Dean grinned sheepishly at them, his feather having exploded once again.
"Oh dear," Professor Flitwick said and hurried over the Dean. With a swish of his hand, the soot covering Dean cleared up and a jab vanished the burning feather as well. Harry knew non-verbal spells were taught in sixth year. All of the Champions except him knew them. If one of the Tasks was a duel of some sort, then there was no chance of Harry coming out of it alive.
"Some help?" Dean asked Hermione as soon as Flitwick moved to help another student. Hermione sighed and slowly moved her wand to explain way for the spell. Dean followed her motions and Hermione frowned.
"You have that right," she said. "And I remember your pronunciation was right too. What happened?"
"I got distracted," Dean explained. His lips moved silently to mouth the spell. Then he pointed his wand at the feather. "Accio feather!" The feather flew slowly from the desk and into Dean's hand without any more explosions. They all sighed in relief. "Anyways," Dean spoke as he looked around the room for another object to call to him. "Heard you say about getting another elective?"
"Divination is illogical," Hermione repeated. A quick Accio had a lunascope from Flitwick's desk fly towards her. "And Trelawney is a hack. Better take Artihmancy or Runes. Those are compulsory subjects for a lot of careers after graduation."
"No one takes Divination to study." Dean laughed. "It's an easy O. Ma always like to see those O's in my grades. But, I'm thinking of picking up Muggle Studies this year. Want to join in, Harry?"
"I grew up with my aunt and uncle. They're muggles." Harry gave Dean a confused look. "And you grew up with Muggles too. Why do you want to take Muggle Studies?"
"Because Padma and Parvati are taking it," Dean said. Hermione shot him a glare. "What? They're two of the best looking girls in the year. The test to get into the fourth year class is easy too."
"Mister Potter," Flitwick called. Harry turned his head to look at the Professor. "Have you had any luck with Summoning Charms yet?" Harry shook his head. "Well then. The class is about to end. You and Mister Longbottom will have write an extra two inches for the homework next class." Harry turned to look at Neville, who gave him a shaky smile. Right on time, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class.
"Alright everyone," Flitwick announced over the din of students packing. "Three inches on Summoning Charms and their uses for next week."
"Tough luck, mate." Dean patted his shoulder in sympathy. "Listen, do you want to get into Muggle Studies too? I'm giving the test after lunch, during the double hour class. You could come along."
"I'll think about it," Harry promised. A class where the teacher didn't predict his death in creatively new ways sounded very tempting. Now that he thought about it, "Hermione?" Harry asked hopefully. Hermione shook her head.
"I have Arithmancy during that slot," she said. "But you could ask-" she broke off and looked towards the desk in front of them. Ron sat there. His ears were suspicious red, and he was sitting very still. Harry had the sinking suspicion that Ron had overheard them. Hearing Hermione cut off mid sentence gave Ron the chance he was looking for. His back stiffened and he turned around abruptly.
"Hi Harry," Ron said. His hands clenched around the strap of the patchy bag he was holding. "Can we- can we talk?"
"Do you want to take Muggle Studies too?" Harry asked coldly. Ron shook his head.
"Can we talk? In private?" He asked again, looking around the room. Harry followed his gaze. Most of the class filled with Gryffindors and Slytherins was looking at them. Harry looked around a little more. Thankfully, he couldn't see Malfoy in the crowd. That gave him the extra courage he needed to talk to Ron.
"Whatever you want to say, you can say it here," Harry said. Ron looked around the room again. He closed his eyes and face went redder than his hair. Ron took in a deep breath and opened his eyes to look straight at Harry.
"I'm sorry," Ron whispered. He coughed once. Ron pushed past his embarrassment at giving a public apology and repeated it again, his voice loud and clear. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have believed what everyone was saying. I thought you found a way to enter your name and didn't tell me. But you can actually die in this tournament! McGonagall said hundreds of people have died in it. Someone nearly murdered you. You could die and I wouldn't have been there for you and that was a shitty thing for me to do."
Ron stopped speaking as soon as he was done speeding through his words. His best friend stared at him from across the table. Harry was sure the embarrassed flush on his cheeks rivaled that on Ron's. He hadn't expected Ron to actually say those words out loud in front of everyone. Hermione elbowed Harry from beside him.
"Er, right," Harry managed to speak. "Thanks, Ron. For the- for everything." Hermione elbowed him again. So Harry gave this public apology another chance and spoke the first words that came to his mind. "Do you want to come with? To test into Muggle Studies after lunch?"
"Sure," Ron said and nodded. The tension leaked out of his frame. Around them, their classmates began to talk and exit the classroom once again. "I know lots about Muggle Studies. Did I tell you about the time we flew close to a Muggle heli-spin while playing Quidditch?" Harry had, in fact, heard that story back during their first flying lesson. He did not need any Divination talent to predict that Ron would fail the Muggle Studies test. That did not matter. Harry was simply happy to have his first best friend around again.