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Chapter 15 - Code of the Marauders

Aimee finds me in the corridor a few hours after dinner finished.   "You realize Fleur is quite angry at your stunt."

I put on my "confused" face and lean back against the masonry.   "I have no idea what you are talking about."

She scoffs at me and I realize that Aimee is rather attractive when she's perturbed.   "Of course you don't.   We both know you were going to ask her.   Don't bother denying it."

"I changed my mind.   Fortunately, I don't fall to pieces around her and have that luxury."

"Yes, but why?   Because of your friend?"

Ron was rather embarrassed when he came back to his senses.   "Partly yes, but mostly I realized that, although she isn't as cold towards me in private as she used to be, we'd be out in public together.   Call me selfish, but I would prefer to enjoy my night out with an attractive witch who possesses a pleasant disposition, than one who hates the spotlight and attention probably as much as I do."

My words have Miss Beaucourt thinking.   "You do know that I have a boyfriend?"

"No, I didn't."   With her always around Fleur, I had assumed she was unattached.   "So, I guess your answer is no."

"Stephan is an apprentice to an Enchanter in the Azores.   He graduated from Beauxbatons last year."

"Well, I look forward to meeting him."   I start to leave, but her hand stops me.

"Stephan's master is very strict.   He is not allowed to leave for the first two years, even to vacation with his parents."

I whistle, "Not even to see his girlfriend compete in the first Triwizard Tournament in over four hundred years?   Tell me, does he write you often or called you on the Floo?"

"That's none of your business!" she snaps back, quickly — a bit too quickly.

"Oh dear, I seem to have touched a nerve.   Perhaps a picture of you and I having a lovely evening will encourage him to pick up a quill or a pinch of Floo powder."

Aimee gives me a rather sour look.   "And what makes you think he would be jealous of you?"

I grin, "The shortest answer is four words — I am Harry Potter.   Three if it's 'I'm Harry Potter,' or if you'd like it in your tongue, je m'appelle Harry Potter.   The photograph I mentioned would also be attached to an issue of Teen Witch Weekly written by my dear friend, Penelope Clearwater.   It would likely include another picture of me receiving an Order of Merlin as well.   If you prefer, you could send him any of the other rags.   They'll be overflowing with speculation by this time tomorrow — actually less, since everyone knows I asked you.   I'll wager a galleon that it makes the Prophet tomorrow."

She laughs, "I believe you are becoming more dangerous with each passing second, Harry."

"You'll find that I am full of surprises.   So, are you going to be my date for this occasion or do I need to ask someone else?"

"Most will suspect that I am trying to take advantage of you, but I am worried that I need to stay on guard from your schemes.   Very well, I accept your invitation, Harry, though Fleur will likely stop speaking to me for several days."

"Is she that angry?"   The image of an enraged Fleur Delacour amuses me.

"Quite.   It's been years since she's called me 'Aimee Nicolette' and I've heard it three times this afternoon!"

"It's a very pretty name."

"Thank you.   Well, I must be going.   I have to get to my laboratory.   There are things that must be done; I suspect you know that all too well."

I think I know what she's referring to.   "Heard about the explosions, did you?   It was only a minor setback, I promise.   You know, there's still a bit of light left.   A walk by the lake would certainly get those rumors simmering…"

She rolls her eyes, but fails to hide the smile on her face, "I will pass this time, Harry, but thank you for the offer."

I watch Aimee walk away with an amused smile on my face while weighing my chances with her.   She looks back right before turning the corner and heading for the staircase, probably wondering what she's gotten herself into.

My dear, you have no idea.

------

Oliver Wood smiles at me, twirling a staff with a gleeful expression on his face.   "Your size and speed do give you a couple of advantages, HJ."

Twenty minutes of getting my arse handed to me by my sparring partner hasn't improved my sense of humor.   "What's that?"

"You're short, so you don't have very far to fall and you're fast, so it'll be over quickly."   He laughs and launches another assault as I try to dredge up JP's rather limited skills with these blasted things.   Before people could just kip on over to Ollivander's they either made their own wands or many settled for staves.   Many pureblood families to this day use them to try to sniff out magical ability in youngsters.   JP's parents put the staves away shortly after he started showing his talents.

Long ago, Hermione seemed to be under the impression that a staff would be mighty and powerful.   Crude and inefficient would be more like it.   The difference between the wand and a staff are not the difference between a pistol and a rifle; it is more like a pistol and an early musket.   This four foot hunk of holly in my hands is damn near useless.   Honestly, something this long should have bristles at the end and someone riding it!

Yeah, I'm pretty screwed in this event.   At least no one can cheat and hurt my score here.   I'm going to lose fair and square.

The Hat lends its own brand of cheerfulness, "Good one, HJ!   Blocking with your head is a winning tactic for certain!   Wood!   Hit him in the crotch and see if that gives him any incentive to do better."

"I'll get my wand, Ollie!"   I warn.

I'd called on Ollie, because he tried to get a staff dueling club here at Hogwarts.   He's one of those rare spell casters that really like athletics.   Puddlemere's training facilities include, among other things, a racquetball court.   Ollie dominates that as well, so, I figured he'd be good with a staff.

I stand corrected.   He's not only good; he's great and way too much for me.   I might as well have called out Hagrid.   Alright, let's see if I can channel some magic through this wretched thing!   I hop backwards to give myself some space, there's only about twenty crude spells that can be cast with a staff.   I choose a disarming spell.

"Exarmoare!"   The feeble yellow beam sputters on Ollie's "Declino."   He didn't have to cast it; he was just looking for an excuse to use that rudimentary shield.

"Maybe your best strategy is to dodge and take blows until their arms tire!"   Hat cackles.   When Ollie joins him, I send an irritated, wandless banisher his way and watch the Keeper dive out of the way.

Wood gawks at my casual display of force.   "Wow, you're getting better!   Still, temper, temper there HJ.   None of that during the competition, or you'll get a disqualification.   Now what's this I hear about you and the seventh year French Champion?"

"She's nice.   Her boyfriend isn't going to be in town."   Hat starts laughing about the money I'll owe it.

Wood launches a quick series of feints that I barely parry.   "Playing the other man, I see.   Well it'd be tempting to see if I could take this pretty bird away from you as well, but one's my limit."

"More like Penny already owns your stones!"   I move in and try to sweep his feet, only to be turned away as easily as my earlier spell.   He answers with a quick Fumeous and sprays a small jet of smoke into my face.   I back away hacking and coughing.   This whole episode is one long, painful lesson in my limitations.

"Nah, but she does handle them rather nicely.   By the way, learn that one, HJ.   Watch for a person to take a deep breath before they do it.   If you use it, follow up quickly and try to drive them off the platform.   You'll need every trick you can get in this one."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Ollie calls for a break.   The Hat immediately calls us "Pussies."

Both of us have gotten pretty adept at ignoring the thing.   Ollie says, "Considering some people already think you're the next Merlin, I wouldn't waste much time worrying about losing a few archaic staff duels."

I scuff my shoes on the mats we've been practicing on, "I don't like to lose."

He shrugs his shoulders.   "Show me someone who does.   Think your date likes being in last place in the competition?   Yeah, didn't think so.   My advice is, laugh the whole thing off.   All of them are at least three years older than that body of yours.   Just focus on giving a good show and maybe even ham it up a bit even when you're getting the snot beaten out of you up there.   I don't think anyone's going to forget you going toe to toe with those Dementors anytime soon."

"Yeah, I should just play it off like whenever the Marauders got caught in a prank.   They'd just have a good chuckle and brag about who failed with the most style."

"That's the spirit — victory in defeat!   Here why don't you put some salve on that cheek?   That looks pretty nasty.   Let's call it a day."

"Scared, I'll injure you?"

He smiles, "Nope, I'm going to take Penny out to a nice restaurant and a few hours later, I'm going to shag her rotten.   What's on your schedule for tonight?"

Amidst the laughter of a certain magical artifact, I reply, "You're a bastard, Ollie."

He tries, but fails to look hurt.   "I know.   It's part of my charm.   I'll come back for one more session, but in the meantime try and practice with someone else to get a feel for different styles."

"Yeah, I'll do that.   See you later, mate.   Hope Penny gives you blueballs."

------

"I know, I am being childish … the whole thing is silly.   I really should apologize to Aimee for my behavior.   Why shouldn't she go with him?   Honestly, he is a step up from Stephan, even if he is arrogant and egotistical."

I shuffle on my hooves and listen with amusement to Fleur vent about this annoying wizard she knows.   This is quickly becoming my guiltiest of pleasures.   In some respects, she was forced to mature much too quickly to deal with the inordinate amount of attention she receives, but her expertise is dealing out the rejection and not being on the receiving end.   Oh, the tangled web we weave!   I suppose this is the drama and humor the Hat was asking for earlier.

"What do you think, Monsieur Pronghorn?"

Wondering what she would do if I transformed back, I look away from her and at the empty spot where Aimee was during my last visit.

"Yes, it is lonely without her and with Gabrielle back in France until the Holidays; I should make amends with my best friend.   After all, she is not to blame for his actions."

Oh, that doesn't sound good.   She's got an unhealthy, at least for me, gleam in her eye.   "He didn't particularly care for William.   Perhaps, I should give him another try."

Wow!   I really did get under her skin.   Her and Bill at the Yule Ball?   Maybe I could get Skeeter to do an expose — Bill Weasley Cursebreaker and Cradle Robber.   It has a nice ring to it.

Fleur looks hot … I mean thoughtful, while contemplating her revenge on me.   I'm guessing that if she knew who Monsieur Pronghorn really was there would be curses exchanged.

"I know he hates that little Malfoy scion, but fortunately for him, I can't stand the little pig as well."   She's smacking the water in irritation.  

Well, she looks less hot just for entertaining the idea of Draco.   I spend a moment to consider what they would look like as a couple and come up with a pair of uptight, prissy bitches.   I simply must tell Padfoot about all of this.   I can't wait to hear him howling in laughter.   Hoping to show my disapproval, I turn and sniff the berries in the bushes.   They're starting to get old and withered.   Sadly, I can't snack and perv at the same time.

"I have asked Gabrielle to bring back some dried fruit from our chateau when she returns.   I'll also bring some items from Hogwart's tables with me.   Though, you shouldn't get me started on the topic of English cooking.   They might as well ladle grease and fat directly into their mouths!   When they do try to eat something healthy, like fish, they slather it in batter to the point that it's unrecognizable!"

On behalf of all my countrymen and women, I should take offense.   I contemplate giving her grotto the old "deer droppings" treatment, but I notice the wind shifting and with it comes the smell I've been smelling as of late.   The Dragons Ron warned me about are to the east of us.   The scent would be faint to a human.

Fleur senses my change, "What is it?"

I make a pronounced effort to show her my nostrils flaring.

"You smell something?"   She lifts her wand to her nose and casts a temporary augmentation charm.   There's the added bonus of watching her chest heave while she inhales deeply.  

"It smells like … Dragon!   There's a Dragon in the forest?"

I nod and paw my right front hoof into the ground six times.   Her eyes get a little bigger.   "Six dragons!   Oh, rest easy Monsieur Pronghorn, I believe they are here for this contest I am participating in.   They aren't your problem, they are mine."

Actually Fleur they're mine too, but you don't need to know that.

I laugh internally when she smacks the water with both hands and exclaims, "I know just who I should take.   I have the perfect person.   I shall ask Viktor Krum."

Yeah, that'll be pretty annoying.   I might have to scratch her from the dance card.   Still, in a way, I'm flattered.   My topless friend over there is going to an awful lot of trouble just to get back at little old me.   Obsess much, Fleur?

"Maybe I should just take you, Monsieur Pronghorn.   You are, by far, the noblest creature I have encountered."

Okay, she's hot again.

"It looks as if our time is up for today.   My days are pretty full right now with this tournament.   We have to duel with staves this coming weekend and I need all the practice that I can get.   However, four days from now will be Sunday afternoon and if you come back both I and Aimee shall be here, Monsieur Pronghorn."

I nod at her, taking in the view as she dries off with her wand and counting the days until I win that pensieve.   I know one of the first memories, or is that mammaries, I'll be viewing.

"Will you wish me luck?" she asks donning her robe.

I walk over to her.   Fleur leans over and wraps her arm around my neck.   She gives me a kiss on top of my head.   I break away and head out, wanting to make a clean getaway, while she recalls her magical grotto back into the necklace.   I'm barely a hundred feet beyond the perimeter when I hear a shout and see shapes moving in the forest.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

I jump and kick on the speed as the spell arcs towards me.   A stunner joins it as I accelerate.   I change direction and pour on the speed.   One small problem, I can't out run apparition.   I hear the pops and double back as more spells chase me.   I sprint towards Fleur's wards.   If they're still up I'll make it to safety.   Another pop and someone appears just to my left.   His leg locker clips me and my hind legs snap together.   I tumble to the ground painfully.   He puts me in a full body bind.   Shit!   I start focusing my energy.   I should be able to break it in a minute.   At the same time, I see two shapes approaching me.

For a moment, I fear they're Death Eaters, but thankfully, it's just a pair of wizards.   "Is it an elk?"

"I don't think so Charlie.   I'd thought it was a deer, but the horns are all wrong."

Charlie!   That doesn't sound good.   He's a Dragon Handler and right now, I'm just a big old hunk of paralyzed meat.   Guess who doesn't want to be Dragon chow?

"I guess it doesn't really matter, Lyle.   Which one do you want to feed it too?   The Horntail?"

I'm almost free of the hex.   My plan is to bolt and put this speed of mine to good use.   I can revert and Apparate if need be.

"What are you doing?" I hear Fleur practically scream.

"Lower your wand, miss.   You know the Forbidden forest is out of bounds to students, even the foreign visitors."

"What are you doing with this animal?"

"That's none of your business miss.   Now move along before we report you."

"You both stink of Dragons!   You're going to feed him to a Dragon!"   Fleur launches into a tirade of French vulgarity that I hadn't thought her capable of.   She must still have the charm in effect to smell it.   I finally break the hex holding me hostage, but decide to remain still and see how this plays out.

"Bugger!   What do we do now?" Charlie mutters.

"I say we Obliviate her."   His partner whispers.

"Lyle!   No!"

Charlie's protest falls on deaf ears.   When the wands start to come out I bolt upright and slam sideways into Charlie Weasley knocking him down to the ground.   The other bloke tries the same curse he snagged me with, but Fleur's ready for him.   She reflects it back at him and sends a quick stunner that catches the Dragon Handler trying to dodge his own spell.  

With my expanded field of vision, I get a look at an avenging angel charging towards us as Charlie struggles with my weight and to find his wand on the ground.   She summons that wand and the stunned wizards as well.

"Do you know who I am?   My father is the foreign minister of my country, you English dog!"

Since Fleur is now in control, I get up again and walk over next to her while Charlie starts sputtering, "This was all just a misunderstanding.   No one's supposed to know about the Dragons in the forest.   My partner just got a little carried away and over reacted."

"Do the words assault and international incident mean anything to you?"   Fleur growls.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!   Easy there miss, I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."

"Fleur Delacour."

Charlie replies, "Oh wait.   You know my brother, Bill Weasley."

Fleur's answer is slow, "Yes, I know William.   What of it?"

"Look, we were just out looking for some food for the Dragons you already seem to know about.   We found this animal and figured it was a good catch.   Why don't we all go up to the castle and let Professor Dumbledore explain this."

Fleur relaxes, "Very well, I will keep both of your wands.   For the record, this is Monsieur Pronghorn.   He is my friend and under my protection.   You will tell the others at your camp that my friend is not to be put on the menu for one of your beasts.   If that were to happen, Charlie Weasley, I will hold you personally responsible.   Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Charlie answers with a noticeable gulp.

Fleur turns to address me, "I am sorry for the actions of these other humans.   They are English and therefore idiots. You will need to be more careful in these woods."

"It understands you?"   Charlie asks as she pats me on my head.

"Yes.   I would venture that he is more intelligent than either of you two.   Now, I am going to revive your companion and the three of us will go see Professor Dumbledore."

I stay close enough to make certain that Lyle doesn't try anything funny when she wakes him up.   At the edge of the forest, I stop and watch the three of them go.   Good thing I'm not on Fleur's bad side.

Oh wait, technically I am.

------

"Hey Neville, got a moment?"

"Sure Harry.   What do you need?"

"I need someone to practice staff dueling.   Have you ever done it?"

He looks a little uncomfortable.   "Grams still had me doing it before second year."

I pretend that I don’t' get the stigma associated with that and make a mental note to one day let Augusta Longbottom know in no uncertain terms what Frank and Alice would tell her if they could.

"That's great, because I really need the help.   Will you?"   He agrees and follows me.   Neville, like Ron and Dean, are putting on the inches while Seamus and I seemed to have hit a brick wall.   I'm sure Ron knows a bit about staves as well, but I figured this'd give me a good chance to clear the air with Neville.   He's been quiet ever since he spoke to Professor Dumbledore.

I lead him down to the spare classroom that Ollie beat the snot out of me in. I hand him an oak staff that I had requested knowing what his wand's base material is made from.   He seems pretty comfortable with it.

While no one is going to mistake Neville for Oliver Wood anytime soon, he's definitely better than I am.

"I have to admit, Neville, you're pretty good at this."

"Thanks Harry!"   It actually gets a grin out of him.  

I try Ollie's smoke maneuver, but Neville turns me aside without getting much in his face.   "How far away could you see that coming?   All the way from Hogsmeade?"

My sparring partner responds with a "stick flash" meant to disorient me.   I see a few spots and fall back on the defensive.   At least my speed is counting for something with him.   As long as my competitors are closer to Neville than Ollie, I might have some hope.

Of course, everyone knows "hope" is a four letter word.   Besides, I have a more pressing interest that requires my attention.   "So, are you okay with what Dumbledore told you?   You’ve been out of sort ever since then.   Look, I know that Crouch bastard was a piece of work, I’d rather not have killed him …"

He stops and lowers his staff, "It’s not that Harry.   I told Dumbledore that we went to Diagon Alley back in October.   It just kind of slipped out while we were talking."

I think it over for a moment, "You told him about you visiting your folks and getting a proper wand, right?"

"Well, yeah, but as soon as I said it I realized that you might get in trouble."

Dumbledore has that seeing the good in everyone "flaw" that Hat commented on during the ruckus at the Dementor challenge.   "It’s fine mate.   It was always your story to tell.   Compared to most of the things I’ve run into this year, a scolding from the Headmaster is the least of my worries."

Even so, I know that Dumbledore is starting to keep tabs on me in his own subtle way.   I’ll have to be more wary.

Neville looks like the weight of the world was just lifted off his shoulders and we resume beating each other with sticks like a bunch of fools.   Let’s see if I can use a bit of distraction on him.   "So who are you going to ask to this dance?"

It’s cheap and shameful of me, but I catch him off guard.   Now if my competitors are shy, nervous types I should be fine.

"I dunno," he replies oblivious to my subterfuge.  

"What about Ginny?"   I’m probably tempting fate again, but they seem like a good pair.

"Maybe, but I think she’s already going with that Corner bloke."

"Really?   They got back together?"   I hadn’t heard about that, but in all honesty, I’ve been busy.   "Good on him."   Internally, I decided, "Good luck to him" might be a better fit.

"Well, who have you got your eyes on?"

The poor kid just keeps getting redder.   "I’m not sure I even want to go to this."

"Well Neville, there’s plenty of third years that would love to go.   What about that Demelza girl in Ginny’s year.   She’s a pretty enough bird and I bet she’d love to go."  

Actually, Robbins is a bit on the plain side, but from my perspective, most of the girls in this school fit that description.   Still, Robbins has more potential than most thirteen year olds in Gryffindor.   A year or two down the line, Neville might be glad he asked her.

"You think I should ask her?"

I shrug my shoulders, "I think you should ask the person you want to ask?   How about Parvati?"

"Ron asked her yesterday."

Definitely didn’t see that coming.   "Well, I’m clearly out of the loop.   What about outside our house?   Any pretty Puff or Claw you have your eyes on?   Oh come on Neville, it’s just me and you here so cut the crap.   Who do you want to ask?"

He looks sheepish and finally blurts out, "Hannah Abbott."

"Not a bad choice, if she’s still available.   Here’s the thing, girls travel in packs.   She always has Susan, Megan, and Sally-Anne around her, so here’s what we’re going to do.   I can distract the other three while you ask Hannah."    

I guess this means I have to show my face in Herbology class tomorrow.   Sprout will probably wonder who the new student is.   JP never really cared for it.   HP was only mildly interested because of all the gardening Petunia made him do.   Given all that and the fact that I can skiv off any class without consequence, it’s no surprise that I can’t really muster any real enthusiasm for the course.

------

"Honestly, if it wasn’t for Neville here, I wouldn’t stand a chance this weekend.   You think he’s brilliant with plants, you should see him with a staff!"

The four Hufflepuff girls are hanging on my words and regarding Neville with calculating looks.

Megan smiles, "Well, we’ll be pulling for you, except against Cedric of course."

"I don’t think you have to worry.   He’s got the right build for this event.   It’ll be either him or Krum that wins the majority.   I’m just hoping to get a few wins."  

I let them ask a few more questions before changing the subject.   "So Susan, how are you doing after your run in with those assassins?"

She sighs, "It was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced.   Looking back, I know they weren't going to hurt me, but even so it’s been an ordeal that I hope to put in the past."

"Good on you.   I’m sorry to hear that it cost your Aunt her job though.   She’s always been kind to me."   Fudge got his pound of flesh and Amelia Bones was sacked the other day.   He elevated that Scrimgeour bloke in her place until he’s affirmed by the Wizengamot.

Susan gets a sour look on her face, "They tried to reassign her to a useless department, but she wouldn’t have it.   She made them sack her, so I’m proud of her."

"Well send her my best wishes when you next speak with her.   So, are you ladies ready for this Yule Ball?"

Nervous tittering greets my query.   That’s supposed to be Neville’s cue.   Oh bugger!   It looks like he’s not going to budge.

"Everyone got your dresses ready and your dates vetted?"

Now I have four blushing Puffs and a stammering wreck of a Gryffindor around me — bloody teenagers!   I reassess the situation.   "Okay here’s the plan, I’m going to dazzle you three for the next minute or two while Neville here gets up the nerve to ask Hannah here to be his date.   We can do this with or without a Confundus charm.   Those willing to cooperate may just find an opening on my dance card."

It costs me a few dances, which Aimee shouldn’t mind, and strangely enough, a demonstration of the Confundus charm since we’re not taught it until fifth year, but Neville’s got himself a date.   He’s still beaming on his way to lunch.

We slide in next to Ron and Hermione.   "Ron, heard you got yourself a date.   Good show, mate."

He smiles and continues stuffing his face.   I look at Hermione, "So, you ready to tell us who you're taking?"

"Not when you ask like that," she shoots back faster than a curse.

Ron says something barely understandable, but whatever it is, she caught it.   "You do realize that asking a girl to dance means you actually have to dance with her.   You two do know how to dance, don't you?"

The panicked look on Ron's face is worth a good laugh.   I could only imagine what poor little Harry Potter would have done.

Scanning around the room, I notice that the Beauxbatons table seems to be fairly active.   "What's going on over there?"

"Something in that despicable Daily Prophet."   Hermione waves it away.   It takes me a minute to track down Lavender and get her copy.  

It's pretty apparent from the front page headline why there's a bit of drama over there.   The headline screams, Fleur's "Forbidden" Friendship!

While admiring the alliteration, I briefly skim the story.   Someone leaked the whole story to Skeeter.   Charlie doesn't seem the sort, so my guess is his partner Lyle.   The troubling part of all this is reading the about the Daily Prophet offering money for pictures of her mysterious creature friend.   There's a nice moving sketch of a pronghorn below the fold of the paper.

Well that's annoying!   That's going to cut into my voyeurism.   Fleur isn't at the table, but wherever she is, I suspect hell is being raised.

------

"Shouldn't you be practicing for your staff duels tomorrow?"

"Ollie had to cancel, Neville and Ron are busy with homework.   Besides, this requires more work and I'll trade some bruises for a Pensieve any day."

"Yes, it's definitely not your typical fourth year project."   The Bloody Baron says inspecting my handiwork.   "I don't think I made my first until my mid-twenties — very nice work."

I chuckle and continue to carve.   "I gave up being typical one a long time ago.   So what brings you here today William?   The Slytherins are awfully quiet lately, should I be worried."

"It's Snape that concerns me."  

My happy mood disappears.   It's funny how mentioning that bastard's name can ruin my cheerful disposition.   "What of him?"

"One of the paintings in his office is indebted to me from things I did while she was living.   She informed me that Karkaroff came to his office today.   They spoke in hushed tones and started to bare their forearms — before Snape decided it was too sensitive to discuss inside the walls of Hogwarts.   The Head of Slytherin is going to the Drumstrang ship this evening, I thought you should know."

I look down at my incomplete work and dab the sweat on my brow.   "Yeah, I'd better check it out.   Any tips on dealing with the poltergeist?"

"I will track down Peeves and send him to you.   He can be bribed and likes idiotic challenges.   The one on the boat is a not a malicious prankster — it is a homicidal maniac."

Sighing I reply,"There's always something homicidal isn't there.   Maybe we could trade?   The Drumstrang folks could use more humor."

------

Invisibility cloaks — they're dead useful.   Thank goodness I sort of gave myself one.   I walk lightly with a silencing charm on my shoes up the gangway and see a handful of students out on deck.   Five minutes earlier, Severus Snape had gone up there.   I lost him once he got on the deck.   There's apparently some magic that obscures people from view once they board the ship — a rather handy trick if they decide to engage in a little coastal bombardment.

For the first few weeks the ship was here, they had tighter security — individually charmed broaches that must be worn like visitor badges at all times, but as the number visitors increased, the system became unworkable and was eventually abandoned.   Now, there is simply a student or two minding the quarterdeck next to a statue of a rather violent looking mermaid poised in mid-trident throw.   The male and female currently there seem more preoccupied with each other than the possibility that an interloper and his pet magical artifact might be sneaking onboard.

"When exactly did I become your fucking pet, HJ?"

"Oh, sorry about that.   It must have been a stray thought in my head.   Pretend you didn't hear that."

It's nice to have an extra set of eyes for a lookout.   Especially one that can mentally communicate with me — even if it is a ratty old piece of cloth that's about as useful as a one legged troll.

"I heard that!"

"Bother.   These things just keep slipping out.   Don't worry about the troll bit, I'm sure they've got nothing on you."

"Interesting to see how much fun your having breaking the rules here HJ, reminds me of the stories I used to hear about James Potter abusing his Head Boy privileges to shove his dick into Lily Evans.   Is it true that the intellectuals are usually the sexual deviants?"

I shake my head trying to rid myself of the image.   "I see you're out of any original material and all you have left are a few cheap shots.  Are you going to need another few centuries to come up with some new stuff?   I might not live that long.   So, back to why we are here, where is the Headmaster’s cabin?"

"I’ve been on this damned leaky hull once and it was six hundred years ago.   I recall the memory of you going to the zoo with those people you laughably call ‘family.’   Tell me, from the entrance of the zoo where exactly is the reptile house.   Oh, come on you useless sack of genital warts!   It’s been less than a decade!"

"Point taken, do you have a general direction?"

"Aft.   I think it’s likely that area by the stern.   The one with the flag on top of it."

The two of us make our way to the back end of the ship, dodging the students that are out on deck.   I don’t spy Krum or Manos.   They are either inside the ship or possibly working in their laboratories.   Viktor, I couldn’t care less about.   Manos, however comes equipped with a pair of bodyguards that will probably hex first and ask questions much later — if at all.   I shiver and release my breath in a controlled manner.   As handy as this cloak is, the more magic used underneath it, the greater the chances of discovery are.   I’d rather be silent than warm in this case.

A sing-song shout rises from the dock immediately followed by barrage of snowballs smacking into the side of the ship.   "Can the Giesty Beasty come out and play?   Peeves is feeling oh-so lonely!"  

"Right on time, the jester makes his appearance, is his help really worth the humiliation, HJ?"

"What humiliation?   All I promised was that I was going to dance an Irish Jig with him at the Yule Ball.   Besides, I’m going to use an old Marauder trick to make it a jolly old time for all.   Charm a bunch of buttons with a little dancing spell, have Peeves stick them to the little area where the heel attaches to the shoe, and when he says the magic word, everybody dances a jig with us."

A low rumble passes through the vessel — equal parts creaking wood and primal growl.   The hairs on the back of my neck, the few that normally stay down rise faster than Sirius in third year when JP told him that he had a one way viewing charm on the girl's showers and Carly "Double D's" McManus would be there in roughly twenty minutes.   Okay, maybe I am just trying to bolster my confidence with cheap memories of large mammary glands — surprisingly, I can live with that.

A mist forms and coalesces into a figure standing on the deck.   One look at it and I'm glad I never went to Drumstrang.   Most poltergeists affect a human form, like Peeves.   This thing stands about nine feet tall, with long claws, and massive bat wings.   Unlike ghosts, which come from a person, giests are the sum of the energy of an event or place.   Peeves is the collective manifestation of all the nervous energy in this school.   There's probably a really interesting story behind this thing, but there are many things in this world that I don't need to know.

On the other hand, I really need to know what Karkaroff and Snape are discussing.   Peeves agreed to take this thing off my hands.   With all the extra students in the castle, our in house poltergeist is feeling rather strong — good on him.   I get the feeling he's going to need it.

I quit gawking as the thing leaps off the vessel and begins chasing Peeves, but am forced to double back because of the group of onlookers standing on the staircase leading to that upper deck.   Sometimes well-planned distractions can also be an obstacle.

Naturally, the door is magically locked.  

"What now, shit for brains?   Did your master plan take into account that they might not want to be heard?"

"I'm almost insulted, Hat.   I'm a Marauder.   The problem with locked doors is that they don't just suddenly open. Snape might be that stupid, but I'm willing to bet Karkaroff would spot it.   Rather than try something on the door, let's go around the side and look for a loose porthole.   I don't need to get inside the room to hear them."

"That's not a lot of room on that walkway.   Five galleons says a clumsy limp dick like yourself ends up in the water."

"You do realize that if I go into the drink, you'll end up there as well.   It might be worth the money just to see if you can drown."

The second porthole on the starboard side has just what I'm looking for, a nice little air gap in it.   I use a controlled engorgement charm to widen the space and make it large enough to fit my wand tip in.   Next up is a handy little charm to let me hear what's going on in the room.

Snape and Karkaroff's lips are moving, but not a damn word is reaching my ears.   Privacy wards are what is going on inside this room.   Good thing I am a Marauder.

"Hey Hat, ever hear that expression, 'I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation?'   Allow me to demonstrate."

I open my pouch and use my fingers to remove the two motionless flies.   Back in the day, JP used this to spy on people.   Listening to Lily vent about how much she utterly despised him gave him the first clue of how she really felt.  

Of course, the gross part is shoving a fly in my ear while the counterpart wings its way into position.   With a few more days, I could probably devise a more elegant solution, but "advance warning," when it comes to Death Eaters, is usually limited to minutes and, in this case, I was lucky to have a few hours.   That time was spent trying to make certain that Dumbledore can't track me on the Marauder's Map.   Anyone looking at the Map will see that Harry James Potter is in his laboratory.

"Is that why you shit in your underwear?"

"Well, my little shrine needed essence of Harry James Potter and something a little more substantial than just blood alone. Besides, it was a quick and, pardon the pun, dirty solution to the problem.   It took more time make the ring that would prevent the real me from showing up on the map.   At least, knowing how the map works allows me to circumvent it."

Releasing the fly, I send it into the stateroom.   If this doesn't work, I'll just focus on their lips and put Miss Chang's lip reading talents to the test.   I can already tell from the two's body language that they aren't happy with each other.

"…the signs.   Do you really thing Dumbledore can protect you?"

Snape scoffs back, "Which one of us bought their way out of Azkaban by trying to sell off names.   I'll say this about Barty, I admire his restraint in not killing you as soon as he had a chance.   How do you think the Dark Lord will view that particular bit of betrayal?"

Karkaroff shrugs, "I did not betray him.   I was only ensuring my release.   Lacking the money others had access to; I did what I must to survive.   If he is indeed poised to return, I think he will judge us by what we have accomplished since his fall from power and more importantly, what we have to offer him now."

"I have access to Dumbledore and Potter…"

I suppress the urge to see if I could kill both of them before they get their wands out.

"Lap dog is more like it, Snape.   On the other hand, I am the Headmaster of one of the most respected magical schools in Europe.   You've never been there, but I assure you, it is a veritable fortress — a stepping stone to all of Europe, assuming he can conquer England.   Can you say that you could offer him that much?"

Karkaroff pours another brandy and continues.   "Besides, your influence here is on the wane.   I've heard that Dumbledore's protection doesn't quite count for much these days and you're struggling just to maintain your position.   Still, what concerns me is the return of our former master.   It can be assumed that Crouch was working on his behalf, but the fact that he did not approach either of us means that we are not trusted."

Snape waves off a refill and regards the other self serving bastard with that sneer he seems so fucking proud of.   "Make your point Igor."

"You're running out of patrons, Severus.  The Great Albus Dumbledore's star is dimming with each passing day.   The Dark Lord's mark returns and you have no plan to ensure your own survival.   Whether you realize it or not, you're drowning and I am in a position to offer you a lifeline.   Drumstrang could use an instructor of your caliber and I recall from the occasions we worked together that you are quite capable with both cauldron and wand.   Perhaps it is time for you to seek, as you English are want to say, greener pastures."

Snape starts to mull it over, "Perhaps I will take that brandy now."

"Do you think Snape's Animagus form is a cockroach?"

The Hat's chuckle rings loudly in my head, "It's hard to hear the words Snape and cock in the same sentence without wondering if Snape likes cock.   Never recall any female visitors coming to the castle to see him."

"I'm always up for a few Snape jokes… Damnit!"   My hand darts up to my right ear, but it's too late.   Karkaroff spotted the fly and smashed it.   The noise is deafening and the counterpart explodes in my ear.   Fly guts in the ear canal, it brings back old and physically painful memories.   The Gryffindor girls were particularly skillful at killing the insects when a certain Lily Evans discovered what they could do.   It's time to move onto my backup plan involving Cho Chang's lip reading skills.

I ignore the crude images the Hat makes and try to concentrate on their faces.   A minute later, a tangible wave of magic passes through the ship.  

"What do you think that was?"

A bell starts ringing.   That's probably not a good sign.   Activity on deck picks up and the gangway rolls up like a giant carpet.  

"I think you're screwed, HJ.   Look there are three humans at the bow.   They're starting a sweep for invisible people using water mist spells."

I ignore that and look at the pair I slipped by initially repositioning that mermaid statue.   The female touches it with her wand and that same pulse of magic I felt earlier emanates from it.   They start pointing this way and the three "sweepers" start running.   A glimpse back into the porthole and I see that they've felt that second pulse as well and Karakoff is pulling out his wand.

"I think we've worn out our welcome here, Hat.   I guess I owe you those five galleons."

It's only about a twenty foot drop into the water below.   I cast a warming charm along the way, unconcerned about it affecting the invisibility cloak.   Even so the frigid water has my body protesting.   My bubblehead charm makes air a non-issue.   I can stay under the water as long as necessary, but I should still get a move on it.  

I pull the Hat back onto my skull and query, "You okay, Hat."

From the string of vulgarities it replies with, it's safe to assume that I can't drown it.   We hurry to the shore.   I'm pulling myself out when the first spells strike the water.   Concussion hexes — not a very nice thing to do to people in the water.   I'm guessing the Giant Squid will be here soon to investigate and I know for a fact that the Merfolk don't care for loud noises at this time of the night.

Light spells dance along the shoreline from people up and down the railings as broom riders take to the air.   Several streak off towards the castle, probably to try and catch me if I was going in through the main gates.   I scurry back onto the grounds and get back into the darkness which should further obscure me.

The good news is I know several secret passages and I won't have to go through those gates.

The bad news is standing twenty feet away, holding Peeves by the neck like a vision from a potion enhanced nightmare.   It discards my accomplice with contempt and gestures with its hand.   A small oak tree, only about fifteen foot tall is ripped out of the ground, root ball and all!

Invisibility cloaks apparently don't fool a poltergeist.   See, I learned something new today.     Here's hoping the lesson doesn't kill me.   With it only a matter of time before someone spots this, the tree spins in mid air like a giant club.

My arm sticks out from the folds of the cloak and waves my holly and phoenix feather wand.   The tree melts into liquid and the water splashes to the ground — Transfiguration to the rescue.  

The Geist doesn't seem to like that and I don't have time to play around with it.   There aren't many spells that will affect a poltergeist, but I just happen to know on that should do nicely.   Slamming the base of the wand into the earth, I conjure lightning.   "Invito Fulgrex!"  

Electrical energy is disruptive to spectral presences.   The bolt smashes into the ground next to the dodging creature and it recoils from the power.   It's very fast and get's off the ground diminishing the strength of my spell.   The Geist's aura weakens, but it responds by banishing stones and loose gravel at high velocity — like being caught out in a hailstorm.   Time's wasting and I need to get out of here.

Salvation arrives in the form of Peeves, blindsiding the Drumstrang spirit and locking it in his grip.   "What's wrong Geisty Beasty?   I think we make a great pair — a shockingly great pair."

While the two struggle together, I pickup Peeves' not very subtle hint and cast a second bolt.   It rips through the duo and both start to fade from view.  

The thing utters the first intelligible words with a voice like gravel rubbed against a chalkboard, "I will find you."

I don't stop to check for an opening on my social calendar.   Those two will pull themselves back together eventually, but I intend to be long gone by then.   The broom riders are heading in my direction with shouts and an array of spells begin to sweep towards me from the direction of the castle.

Instead, I sprint in the direction of the Quidditch stadium.   One of the four secret passages that Filch does know about is at the base of the Ravenclaw stands.   It leads to the corridor just around the corner from the entrance to the Claw's tower.   I look at the chains and five different locks on it with disdain and turn the chain into a snake.   It falls to the ground and I hiss to it that there are some tasty mice just around the corner.   Imagining the look on that miserable shit's face when he finds the chain on the ground and tries to figure out what happened brings a smile to my lips.

The Hat and I move quickly through the other tunnel and I avoid a few more crudely crafted traps.   I finally comment when I see the tin cans on a string.   "Sometimes I think Dumbledore keeps Filch around because he feels sorry for him."

"Filch is just a worthless idiot, who does unspeakable things with that cat of his.   Dumbledore keeps him around because children, such as you, think they've accomplished something when they pull the wool over some bitter non-magical human.   Once again the value of a Hogwarts education doesn't live up to its hype."

While Hat continues to weave a story that I don't particularly want to know, I "disarm" Filch's laughable attempts at traps and then look through the peephole.

With no one in the corridor, I slip back into "The Safest Place in all Britain" and ponder the irony of that statement.   At least I'm doing Dumbledore a favor by poking holes in his security.

"What are you going to do about Snape?"

The seriousness of the tone brings me back to the question at hand.   "Part of me says let him go and be Drumstrang's problem.   Another part wants to see him broken and impoverished for what he did to Remus."

"I thought you didn't care for the cheating werewolf."

"Code of the Marauders, an attack against one of us is an attack against all of us.   Besides, there's one last part of me that knows he told Riddle the first part of the prophecy."

"And what does that part want to do with him?"

"Make certain he screams loudly before he dies.   Snape's every bit as responsible for Lily and James as Wormtail and Voldemort.   Peter's only going to live long enough to prove that Sirius is innocent — then that backstabbing little fucker gets what's coming to him."

------

"Oh, I hope that doesn't leave a bruise — or at least one that won't clear up before our date next weekend."   Aimee gloats with a pleasant smile from the platform above me and enjoys the cheers of victory.   The fourth round just ended rather abruptly.   Anyone who blinked missed it.

I massage my aching jaw.   Aimee was much faster than she had let on in her previous matches, or perhaps, I bring out the best in her.   Yeah, I'll go with that.   Still, even in defeat, I must salvage a bit of victory, "If I had known you were that eager to get me flat on my back, I would have asked you out earlier."

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes at my antics.   The nearby members of the crowd howl with laughter.

After losing to Krum, Diggory, and Manos, I'd hoped that my fourth match against Aimee would go a bit better.   Just as Ollie predicted, staff fighting is not my forte.   It's definitely not "The Power the Dark Lord knows not."  

Krum left me with a nice deep thigh bruise.   Cedric and Athena simply beat me, but at least they were respectful about it.   The bruises they left me with weren't intentional.   Luckily, I've already got a fresh batch of healing salve waiting for me up in the dorms.

I pick myself up and walk back to my seat.   Four matches, four losses, Krum is edging closer to me, but at least Fleur isn't pulling away.   She's hasn't won a match either and is my last opponent.   Cedric finished her before her aura started to make him stupid.   It was swift and a bit more brutal than one would expect from the good-natured Hufflepuff.

"Oh tough break on that one, Harry."   Ron says as I sit down on my bench.   Hermione wipes the area of my face, that successfully blocked Aimee's staff, with a damp cloth while Neville takes my staff.   Normally, he would check it over, but I lost so fast that it probably doesn't need it.  

Cedric and Krum mount the platform for their highly anticipated bout.   Aimee's move was this very effective distortion charm, blurring the motion of the staff.   When she'd used it on Diggory, he'd defeated it handily, so I hadn't thought that much of the tactic.   I suppose the old saying about pride coming before the fall applies here.

"I'm not too concerned.   Maybe they'll start underestimating me again."

Further conversation is interrupted by Cedric and Krum wailing on each other as the final round begins.   Viktor's compact form and excellent physical condition against Diggory's long reach and speed.   Up until now, Cedric hasn't even cast a spell with his staff.   I don't even have an idea what he's capable of.

Krum uses that banisher that knocked me off balance, but the pride of Hufflepuff blocks that spell and responds with a jet of water.   His next swing brings a cold chill with it.   Impressive, a combination move with a staff!   The dripping water on Krum, instantly freezes as icicles form in his hair, on his face, and most importantly, where he's standing.

The Drumstrang wizard slips seconds later and Cedric sweeps him off the platform to the wild cheers of the audience.   He pumps the staff into the air with his right arm.   I guess he hasn't forgotten their first wand duel and Krum's mocking.   I clap and gesture my approval to the undefeated Cedric Diggory.

Minutes later, after watching Aimee defeat Athena to go a surprising three and two in the staff round, I'm back on the platform for the last match of this embarrassing day.   My opponent is the also winless Fleur.

"Well," I say casually, "at least one of us will get out of here with a win."

She gives a curt nod and a glare for a reply.   I mull over the possibility that she's still got her knickers in a twist over that little bit in the Great Hall.   The judge orders us to our starting position.   Fleur's staff begins smoldering and catches fire.   The crowd goes wild and I start wondering how fire retardant my robes are.   There's a saying out there that things are always better with fire.   I think I just found the exception.

Yeah, she's a bit miffed.   I'd make a tacky joke about how hot this makes her, but we get the start and Fleur, along with her flaming staff is coming for me.   I parry her blows, not really with practiced ease, but more a combination of desperation and luck.  

I try the smoke spell, after all where there's fire there should be smoke.   She gags and coughs, but keeps swinging violently.   Hopping backwards, I brush the flames off my shoulder.

Spinning my staff, I launch a counterattack.   Sparks fly, literally.   Her technique isn't much better than mine.   There's a good bet that neither of us will ever play beater.   I try sweeping her legs, but she steps in close and my strike hits harmlessly off of her upper thigh.   Fleur snarls and hits me square in the chest.   I stagger towards the edge and teeter there.  

There's a predatory glint in her eyes and she takes a final swipe at me.   I block it, but the force sends me off the edge anyway.   At least I've gotten used to the fall by now.

------

The Baron floats next to me looking at my final preparations for today's challenge.   "Dumbledore has officially refused Karkaroff''s third request to use the Giest as a magical bloodhound.   I would suspect it can track your invisibility cloak.   I suggest you avoid wearing it in the vicinity of the vessel."

"How do you know this?"

"The Headmaster consulted the Ghost Council on whether we would allow the spirit inside the castle.   I was most direct in my answer.   Should it set foot inside the castle, both Sir Nicholas and I will take care of it.   Outside of the castle, you will need to be on your guard."

The Hat looks down at the two of us from its new perch.   "About time Dumbledore grew a bloody pair!   How long until we go out to the Quidditch stadium?"

"You sound a little eager there Hat.   Any minute now, Neville and Ron will be knocking on the door."

"I want to enjoy the moment.   This is something I haven't felt since Godric made me.   Pity, I won't be able to help you during the competition."

I ease the two bandoliers filled with potions onto my shoulder and check the rest of my bags of tricks.   "I'll manage just fine.   They'll never see what hit them."

The Baron looks through the side of the bags and shakes his fist.   "I am impressed, Harry.   You should do well.   I have my serious doubts that any will come close to matching your time."

Smiling, I answer as there is a knock at my laboratory door, "Fortunately, time is all that counts in this one, elegance be dammed!   I'll be interested to see what the others cooked up, but they're not me."

He slides gracefully towards the wall, "As always descendant, I shall be watching.   Sir Nicholas will be close by if the Giest decides to make itself a threat."

I nod respectfully and wait until he has left to open the door.   The portrait in the room knows of our connection, but it fears the Baron too much to mention this to Dumbledore.   Hopefully, I can talk the old man into letting me keep this set up.   It's hard to imagine what the Marauders could and would have done with a fully equipped laboratory at their disposal.

The repeated knock interrupts the pleasant trip down memory lane.   I go ahead and open it.   "Hello mates."

"Are you ready, Harry?"

"Yeah, I'm going to do some damage today.   C'mon Hat, let's go."

Both of my classmates gawk, as I usher them into the hallway.   It's amusing to watch the portraits rushing from frame to frame as we walk by them.   Outside of the privacy wards surrounding my laboratory, each stride reverberates with the stone on stone contact.  

"Holy Merlin, Harry!   You made that?"   Ron sputters.   Part of me is eager to see the look on Hermione's face.

"Could you make me one?"   Neville manages to get out.

"Maybe, it's kind of expensive."   I look over at Cedric.   My competitor must have been drawn by the noise.   "Hey, Diggory.   Are you ready for today?"

He looks it over and appreciates the fine craftsmanship.   "A golem, Potter?   You made a bloody golem?"

I look at the crossbow strapped across his back and the arrow ending in an articulated magical hand.   "Yeah, isn't it great?   Nice crossbow, is the arrow heavy enough to compensate for the wind?"

He doesn't take his eye off the golem and moves the fingers on his right hand which makes the fingers on the magical hand move. "I've been practicing with it for a week.   Even if I don't get on the island, I just have to get the shot close to it.   The shaft and the line are charmed to float and this motion makes it swim forward."

He's rather proud of his invention and rightfully so. The device appears to have an auto winding mechanism as well.   It's interesting to see Diggory's train of thought.   He's not even going to try to tackle the air and water elements.   Instead, he's going to shoot a charmed arrow across the distance and build in some mobility to get to the fire protected dagger.

We round the corner and the area where the competitors and their advisors have gathered.   Hat, in mental control of the golem slams a three fingered fist into the stone palm with a loud sound and yells, "Fear me now, bitches!   After a thousand years, I'm walking on my own!"

The others have trunks and bags containing their prepared equipment and potions.   Viktor is carrying a broom case, looks like a homemade broom for him.   It makes sense and plays to his strength.   Still, the high wind speed in a confined space makes it a dangerous choice.

My date for this evening's festivities comes over and inspects the intricate rune work, meticulously carved into the granite surface of the golem.   Aimee smiles, "It's definitely a solution to the earth section and nicely done, but is it fast enough?"

I laugh, "You'll see.   Trust me, you'll see."

Several others, including the advisors, look skeptical that a fourteen year old wizard could make something like this.   Again, I wonder what happened to the one James made for Godric's Hollow.   How long had it lasted against Voldemort?   Considering James lasted barely a minute, I have to guess not very long.   This one is just as tall at fifteen foot and weighs close to seven tons.   It can obey my verbal commands and Hat's mental ones.

Fleur arrives last and mistakes the golem for Aimee's work.   She actually managed to turn that dating issue into an opportunity for good press to counter the story in the Prophet.   She raffled herself off for the evening and raised a respectable eight hundred galleons for the premier French magical hospital.   I'd heard a Drumstrang wizard had won the drawing after purchasing twenty tickets at one galleon per ticket.

I pick up most of the rapid fire exchange of French, "Aimee, I had no idea you were capable of making a golem in six short weeks!"  

"I'm afraid it is not mine," she gestures towards me.

"You?"

I shrug, "I am full of surprises.   I keep saying this, but no one believes me."

Aimee laughs, "Full of something for certain."   Fleur nods in agreement.

I feign insult.   "I'm hurt.   I'll have to view this memory first in my new pensieve."

The trash talking continues all the way out to the stadium.   In the middle sits the specially constructed Puzzle room.   There's a roar through the crowd and people pointing at my golem.   Instead, I look at the Puzzle room.   Just through the entranceway, I see walls of stone moving in random patterns.   It's dangerous only if they entrap me.   I have no intention of letting that happen.  

Flames flow like a deadly artwork along the wall and ceilings daring anyone to come that way.  

Where the earth walls end is a tiny "safe zone" where the water meets the shore.   Swirling vortexes of water and visible waterspouts circle ominously in the area beyond.     This is where most of the danger is.   My tactics should minimize this threat, but there's always the chance that I have underestimated the power of the current.

At the end of the long room is a tiny spot of land floating in the heavy surf.   Suspended in a column of fire is a dagger once wielded by Beowulf's apprentice, Wiglaf.   It's the destination.   The person that gets it back out the doorway in the least amount of time wins first place and Nicholas Flammel's pensieve.

Bagman's magically amplified voice rises above the din introducing us.   "And here they are — your six champions!   Have they mastered the elements?     What plan do they have for being the fastest?   I spy a full sized golem out there by Potter — an amazing piece of work for someone not even enrolled in Ancient Runes and I've just been handed a note that Viktor Krum will be auctioning his hand crafted — one of a kind — broom in a silent auction in two weeks.   Proceeds from the auction will go the 'Broomstick for Every Child Fund' which helps to bring the gift of flight to underprivileged children all over the world.   That's the kind of giving spirit that truly defines a champion!"

The crowd roars as Krum salutes them.   I look over at Fleur, who is clapping politely.   She's obviously a bit annoyed that her charitable act will no doubt be overshadowed by Krum's grandstanding and the ridiculous disposable income of Quidditch fans.

"Think I should auction the golem off, Hat?"

It flexes the constructs right hand.   "I have this now, HJ.   The fingers are large.   It may be difficult to find your tiny little testicles, but I'm sure I could crush them like grapes."

"Our contestants will be competing in ascending order in the standings.   With Miss Beaucourt at six points, the French Champion will go first.   Let's see what brews she has concocted, what items she has enchanted to overcome earth, air, water, and fire!   Get ready, the competition is about to begin!"

"Want a kiss for good luck?"   I offer loudly and draw a few looks.

She ignores my shameless flirting and withdraws only two items from her bag.   The first is a gem encrusted belt.   I have no idea what it is for, but suspect I will learn in a moment.   The second is an elbow length dragon skin glove with a more obvious purpose to protect her hand from the fire.

At the start line, she hands her wand to Dumbledore and he signals for her to begin.   Giant mirrors positioned all around the stadium allow the spectators to view the action inside the room.   We are close enough to see through the walls enchanted with a Clearview charm.

"Aimee Beaucourt is off!   She walks confidently into the earth area.   The columns of rock immediately move to block her, but she is undeterred.   She walks right through the first one!   Incredible, one of her items must convey a ghost like quality to her.   That's right folks tons of earth can't even touch her!   Incredible!   She's through the first obstacle and starts walking on the water.   Can either wind or water affect her in this state?   The answer is no!   She's slowly making her way across the next obstacles.   Look at her go!   The other champions will have to be very fast to match her time."

"That's got to be draining her."   I mutter aloud.   It's every bit as impressive as a golem, but that family of charms is power intensive and requires serious concentration to maintain the wraith-state.  

"She's across the water and on the island.   She deactivates her belt and grabs Wiglaf's dagger with her gauntleted hand in a mere ninety seconds.   That's going to be tough to beat.   With the prize in hand, Aimee returns to her ghost form and starts making her way back."

Aimee's time exiting the room is three minutes and eight seconds.   She looks exhausted coming out of the room.   Powerful magic has a way of doing just that to a person.

As they reset the room and Athena prepares to take her starting position, I move over to congratulate Aimee.   She looks up from her invigorating draught.   "Beat that if you can."

I chuckle and pat her on the shoulders.   "You can watch the memory of your second place performance this evening in my new … oh never mind, that joke is already a bit old."

We both turn as Athena starts her run.   She uses some little charm to temporarily turn her into a bird.   It gets her through the earth section quickly enough, but the winds buffet her harshly and she's forced to land and wait for the charm to undo itself.   A second trinket, changes her into a fish and she tries the water.   This also works well, but time continues to work against her.   Over two minutes have passed before she returns to her human form.   She knows her technique won't beat Aimee's wraith belt, so she's concentrating on clean execution to pickup points in the overall standing.

She finishes at four minutes and eighteen seconds and seems disappointed in herself.

Cedric races quickly through the moving earthen columns, his speed and reflexes serve him well.   He stops at the shoreline and shoulders his crossbow.   His first shot is blown wide by the swirling whirlwinds and splashes into the water.   The charmed mechanism at the end of the crossbow rewinds his line, but he struggles with the current that doesn't let his arrow go without a fight.

On his third attempt, he gets it close enough to the small island at the end of the room to use the enchanted hand to scurry up the embankment and leap up capturing the dagger.   The ensorcelled weapon rewinds, but the two misses prove costly and he ends up with a time of four minutes and forty-three seconds.

I congratulate him anyway and Aimee asks to look at the crossbow while Krum moves to the start line.   Mentally, I begin preparing for my turn.

People joke and say that Viktor Krum was born on a broomstick, but watching him weave through the columns and fly like a man possessed lend a bit of credence to that theory.   Hurricane force winds jostle him and hurl him from side to side, but he simply regroups and looks for another opening and darts through it.   Just like diving for a snitch, he powers right though the wall of flames and comes out holding the dagger in his protected hand.

Okay, I don't like him, but I do have to respect him.   He circles around and pits himself against the wind again searching for that elusive opening.   Less than fifteen seconds later he's landed on the ground and staggers unsteadily out of the doorway — a near god on a broom, but a staggering drunkard off of one.

His time, two minutes and nine seconds — the crowd goes insane.   Aimee smacks her knee in frustration.   "I was certain this was my event!   Good luck Harry, but your golem is just going to slow you down too much."

"Watch and learn, beautiful — watch and learn."   I go ahead and put my pair of gauntlets on and attach the spiked heels to my boots.   I'll need them in roughly fifteen seconds.   Walking to the starting line, I pass the arrogant Bulgarian.

"You will lose just like the staff duels." He says flatly.

I shake my head at him, "Just stand there and continue thinking that Viktor.   You're about to learn what happens to anything that gets in my way."

Approaching Dumbledore, I levitate the Hat off of the golem and hand it and my wand to the Headmaster.   "A golem is a most remarkable creation, Harry.   No matter how you finish, I am impressed beyond measure."

I gesture to the bandoliers of potions around my chest.   "For your own safety sir, I recommend you step back about twenty feet after you give me the starting signal."   From my second bag, I remove a set of earmuffs and put them on.   I pull a second smaller set and hand them to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore regards them curiously before Hat interjects, "They're for me, you decrepit old fossil."  

The Headmaster ignores the Hat and looks at how I am positioning the golem.   I think he knows what I'm up to.   There's a distinct twinkle in his eye as he nods.

"Begin!"

I don't hear the words, but I see the lips move.   I'm sure that everyone assumes that I would use the golem as a battering ram to break through the earth obstacles.   I did say I'm full of surprises.   I don't need a battering ram; I need a large moveable shield.

Slinging the first bandolier of ten potions between the golems legs, I scream, "Barricade!"

The golem closes its legs and hunkers down.   The eight potions hit a moving wall roughly ten feet into the room and detonate like a muggle bomb — Remus Lupin's famous "boomjuice" strikes again.   After the blast wave passes, I dash around the crouching golem and sprint into the damaged room yelling, "Follow."

Most of the movable walls are shattered.   The ground is already reabsorbing them and beginning to create new ones, but I run through the large gap created and am at the shore before any of them are knee high.  

From my bags, I pull a block of "Insta-Ice" and toss it into the churning waters.   As the water solidifies, I call to my golem, "Halt at shoreline" and move onto the ice using the spikes on my boots and my dragonhide gauntlets for traction against the wind.   Seconds pass as I move more like an ape than a man across my ice bridge.

I'm already at the island, one quick leap and the dagger is in my hands.   Pulling my second chunk of "Insta-Ice" out, I make certain the ice bridge doesn't break up with the tidal forces fighting against it.   I shove the dagger into my belt and hurry back trying to move even faster than before.   Less than fifteen feet from the shore, I scream to my waiting golem, "Barricade!"

The crowd, many of whom already massaging their ears from the ruckus, has a pretty good idea what's next.   I butt right up against the back of my shield-golem and whip my other bandolier of "boomjuice" over it at the regrown obstacles.   The detonation is just as fierce and the golem actually moves a few feet backwards, pushing me onto my crumbling ice bridge.   I start moving again and shout for it to follow, noticing the cracks in the main walls and ceiling as I sprint to the finish.

The entranceway is noticeably larger now.

Covered from head to toe in dust and trying really hard not to cough, I emerge from the dust storm to a stunned audience.   The clock reads one minute and thirty-seven seconds — less than a hundred ticks.   I pull off the charmed earmuffs and take in the insane volume of the cheering.   Battered, and looking like it went toe to toe with a giant, my hulking golem emerges.

Dumbledore nods to me, "Congratulations on a fine time and a most unorthodox solution to the Puzzle room."   His tone is guarded and I'd have to be an idiot to think that he's not suspicious.

I hand him the ancient magical dagger and retrieve my wand and advisor.   Placing the Hat back on the damaged golem's head, I let it take over.

"You do intend to fix the damage, HJ."

"Fix isn't what I have in mind, Hat.   I like the idea of upgrading it instead."   I apply a cleaning charm to remove the dirt and dust from everywhere on my body and make my way back to the contestants.

Cedric walks up to me, "Harry!   What in the hell was that?"

I make certain to look at Krum and speak loudly.   "Code of the Marauders — Strike hard, strike fast, and leave chaos in your wake."

The most amusing part in all of this is the thirty minute wait while they repair the room for "Fleur's safety."   She ends up playing it safe and taking three minutes and fifty seconds to finish the course.   I smile and watch the overall leader board change as Potter replaces Delacour at the top spot.   All that's left is the verification under truth serum and I'll collect my slightly used pensieve.

------

Inside the tent, I relax and try to ignore the bitter taste of the three drops of potion on my tongue.   The others wait for their turn to verify that they did the work honestly and on their own.

"The golem, the ice blocks, the earmuffs, and the potions were all enchanted by your own hands, Harry?   You alone preformed all the work."

I smile, even as the Veritaserum compels me to answer affirmatively.   This time it is a clean victory — no cheating at all.   Life is good.

"Thank you, Harry.   Congratulations on your victory.   Severus, administer the antidote."

"Wait!"   Karkaroff snarls.   "Were you the intruder on my ship?"

"Igor!"   Dumbledore is incensed.   "The questioning is limited to the task!"

I try to fight it, but all I can say is, "Yes."  

Snape's eyes widen in triumph.   Think again fucker!   "Yes, I overheard you and Snape discussing the possibility of Voldemort's return and what you could offer him when he does.   Your privacy wards are bloody awful by the way."

So much for a clean victory, let the shit storm commence!

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• A House of Cards Flawed Assumptions The Summer of Change Of Innuendo and Ice Cream Closets and Secrets Plans are Subject to Change I Belong to Nowhere Censure and Sensibility Bartering the Truth Every Rose has a Thorn Appearances Can Be Revealing What's the Price of Your Fame? Caged Fear Sometimes, It's Good to be Me Code of the Marauders Dancing in the Whirlwind The Dykstra Shuffle A Prayer for Forgiveness Out of Africa The Geist and the Grotto Mind Your Manners Head Games Humiliation and Other Diversionary Tactics Cry Havoc
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