Chapter 15
Newt approached the wards of Hogwarts with all the subtlety of a herd of erumpets. As subtlety wasn’t his purpose, he wasn’t concerned.
He glanced to his left and right, to the family he’d gained, to the family of the young boy they’d all been drawn to in some form or another, and felt a surge of pride so fierce it nearly steals his breath. Instead, it steels his purpose.
Bruce shifts between one step in the next, the Hulk letting out a furious roar as he paces the edge of the grounds, beating on the wards the moment they reach them.
His roar reverberates through the air, sending birds scattering, and leaving an eerie silence in its wake.
To Newt, it highlights their position quite clearly.
It doesn’t take long for them to be met, and he recognizes Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape, though there’s a look exchanged between the latter and Natasha that speaks volumes. The other two heads of houses are there as well, and though Newt doesn’t know them personally, he knows of both Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick. He also recognizes the headmasters of both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, though it sets him on edge that Igor Karkaroff is allowed near students with his past.
He’s certainly one for second chances, but there’s a look about this mans eyes that speaks of danger and betrayal. Newt’s far too familiar with such things to trust this man.
Olympe Maxime, the headmaster of Beauxbatons, does her best to stare them down, but it takes only one look at Newt for her to step back, watching with a careful, cautious eye. She is the only one who notices him right away.
If Newt had had it in himself to smile, it would’ve been grim.
He dismisses the auror with barely a glance - there’s not enough magical power for the man to pose enough of a threat if it came to battle, and however ingenious he may be at spell-casting, he was sure that magical eye of his could sense the same properties of James’ arm as Newt could.
It was the two ministry men that set Newt on edge, because he recognized their sort immediately, and hated them for it.
When it became clear none of the Hogwarts staff would speak, it was the trim man with a thick moustache who stepped forward. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Newt pushed it aside for the moment.
“If you do not stop your attack on this school, you will be considered enemies of the ministry for endangering the lives of children.”
“What excuse do you have for endangering the life of my child?” Natasha demanded in return, and it was clear the moment they all realize just who she was.
The man swallowed, clearly nervous, and the sweat beaded on his brow, but he didn't relent.
“This is an educational institution, madame, and the Tournament is a long held tradition.”
“A tradition that was banned over a hundred of years ago because of the lives lost.” Tony cut in, voice robotic through the suit, and clearly startling everyone present besides those who knew him. “And just who the hell are you anyways?”
The man drew himself up, doing his best to save face despite the force standing in front of him.
“I am Bartemius Crouch and I am the head of international magical cooperation. This is my colleague, Ludovic Bagman, and he is the head of games and sports for the Ministry of Magic.” His moustache quivered as he drew a sharp breath. “So you would do well not to threaten us in any way, sir.”
It’s then that Newt steps forward, because he has no patience for the useless bureaucracy of the ministry. He knows the moment they all see him, because the expressions range from surprise, to wary, to downright afraid.
He’s not necessarily proud of this fact, but he is well aware of how to use it to advantage. It’s clear his reputation precedes him, and he knows why he recognizes Bartemius. He was Barty Crouch Sr., father to one of the most repugnant death eaters, and demoted from the department of magical law enforcement. A department he knew all too well.
The man’s face paled at the sight of him, and they both knew that he was afraid.
“You will release Harry from the contract.” He said, tone almost demure, but there was nothing of the tone in his expression as he met Barty’s gaze straight on.
The man visibly stepped back, but he stiffened with the action, pride making him angry. Before he could speak further, Bagman stepped in.
“Impossible. The contract is made, as are the rules of the game.”
“There’s always a way.” Clint cut in, derisive.
“It’s a magical contract, boy. And the only way out is to complete it or die from the magical backlash of fighting it.” The voice of the auror was gruff and all eyes turn to him. His own eye was fixed on the case in Newt’s hand.
“A magical contract is flawed if you don’t enter it personally.” Newt countered, pulling that magical eye up to him. He watched the man’s tongue dart out of the corner of his mouth, a tic, and frowned. “If the one who forged it is found, the contract is void.”
“You are zaying zat zomeone ‘as betrayed ‘Arry Potter?” Madame Maxime intoned, and Newt nodded once.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Madame. Harry has been with me every day of the last three weeks. Unless you wish to tell me that you believe he was in two places at once, he has been betrayed. I can promise you, if this is not resolved, there will be a price to pay.”
The open threat had everyone shifting, uncomfortable, but in no way doubting him.
“Who would do such a thing?” It’s Karkaroff who asked, never meeting Newt’s gaze, but instead glaring at the members of Harry’s family.
“Who indeed.” Newt let Karkaroff see the knowledge in his gaze and watched the man flinch back. Natasha shifted then and Newt’s gaze moved to her, saw her glaring at the ex-auror. The man in question stared right back, unflinching, and Newt stepped between them, drawing the attention back to himself. He wonders when he decided to allow himself to become the centre of attention, and knew that it was the moment he’d decided to love these people.
He looked back up at the castle, wondering why fate hated this boy so much as to drag him back to the place he tried to escape. Then he focused his gaze back on the people representing it.
“So, how do you intend to solve this?”