Severus Snape took deep breaths in an effort to contain his growing ire and increasing frustration in order to not curse the people who were walking with him towards a common room he had not visited in years. He couldn't believe that he needed the supervision of two dozen people for the castle to allow him entrance! Containing his rising need to strangle someone, he decided to concentrate on any other thing that may distract him from the humiliating situation he was forced to endure. For some reason, his brain refused to cooperate and the only thing he could concentrate on was the discussion that had taken place not so long ago... Perhaps the fact that the useless Black was walking a few meters away was the reason he was unable to maintain his usual calm facade.

The professor had not uttered a word when the brat's name had been announced as the fourth champion. However, he had been extremely satisfied because he thought that, at last, his colleagues would see the boy's true nature: an arrogant attention-seeker who was too dangerous to leave without supervision. Of course, as with most of his plans, this also had to fail. That boy was an excellent actor, he had to admit that. Not for a moment had he looked nervous or pleased. Only slight annoyance was showed and he managed to convince everyone that he was innocent. But unlike the others, he was not blinded nor fooled by Potter's facade.

He admitted that he didn't believe for a second that Albus or the Ministry representatives would allow the brat to compete. Once again, he was proven wrong. For some reason he was unable to understand, his mentor was pushing for the boy to be a champion. Potter, despite all his achievements in school and being hailed as a genius, wouldn't be able to deal with the tasks. In any other circumstances, he would not have cared in the least because it would be the perfect opportunity to show the magical world their hero was nothing more than a pampered prince. However, he had sworn to protect Lily's son, no matter how much he loathed the brat.

When the three champions came back to great hall searching for Filius and Minerva only because that boy had requested them to, many pieces had fit into the puzzle at last. Severus was many things, but a fool was not one of them. Potter didn't have friends, he had followers who heeded his commands like lost puppies. He understood at last that Harry Potter controlled his followers as if they were pawns; his wishes were their commands. This control was not limited to his followers, though. His dominance extended to the whole of Slytherin House. Even though it was torture for Severus' soul to admit it, he had lost the authority over his snakes long ago. The real problem was that, no matter how hard he tried, he was not able to find flaws in the Slytherin's new system, so he had no way of overriding their new leader.

With a heavy heart, he admitted Slytherin had changed for the better. All the professors had congratulated him on his snakes' exemplary behaviour. While Slytherin had once been linked with blood-purity fanaticism, now the House had become the epitome of acceptance and tolerance. If that was not enough, Severus had seen many of his students socializing with members of other houses as if it was the most normal thing in the world, when once they had been the pariahs of the school. For the first time, he had seen his snakes being free of the prejudice that had tainted Hogwarts for so long. It burnt his pride, knowing that he had not been responsible for this change, even when he had tried to achieve this goal for more than a decade.

For a long time, he had kept observing the brat, but he had been unable to find any flaw in his perfect disguise so far. Potter had inherited far too many traits from his dear Lily, an excellent student with exemplary behaviour, not to mention her beauty and charisma, possessing none of his father's negative attributes. No one would believe him if he antagonized the boy and, in theory, he had no reasons to... But there was something wrong with Harry Potter. Severus didn't know what it was, but the boy's mere presence put him on edge. Maybe it was his eyes that mirrored the exact shade of the killing curse instead of the warm emerald green that characterized Lily, or it could be the fact that it was impossible to be perfect and yet the boy somehow managed to achieve that impossible goal.

Deep down he knew the real reason that he would never be able to admit. Severus Snape was afraid of Harry Potter. The boy's magic was far too powerful to be normal, his mind was far too sharp, and he possessed an unparalleled talent to manipulate people as if they were mere puppets. The boy was able to look into someone's soul and make them feel like an insignificant insect. However, the trait that frightened him the most was the one he shared with the Dark Lord. Severus knew that beings who possessed massive power were the ones who got corrupted by it and he was not blind. That boy had already begun walking that path...

The knowledge of a Court being formed was the last confirmation he needed. The boy had already chosen his inner circle and the Guild had only been a tool to assert their dominance. Now Potter had loyal followers that would one day be pillars of Magical Britain. He was already placing his pawns in important positions, such as Marcus Travers, the youngest senior undersecretary in history. While the rest of his inner circle was still too young, they were all heirs to important families that had votes on the Wizengamot, along with influence over Magical Britain...

Severus sighed, deciding to concentrate on other things. Wallowing in self-hatred would not help him stop the boy or regain control of his House. He glared at the bright lamps that illuminated the corridors of the dungeons; he didn't even know when they were installed or how the things worked, but he doubted any of his students would answer him. He saw a familiar corridor and winced. He didn't even know the password to enter the common room. Taking a deep breath, he got ready to confront that humiliation when someone's yelp brought him out of his thoughts.

His eyes widened in surprise and his heart almost stopped beating at the sight that greeted him. One of the Aurors had sent a curse at the basilisk that was laying in the entrance, staring at them. The fact that they were alive was enough to know that the snake was not real, but his instincts refused to cooperate and continued urging him to run. Controlling his need to hyperventilate, he neared its tail and probed it, ready to run away. Much to his relief, he noticed the thing was carved into the wall. Severus admitted that whoever had created the monster was a genius in their craft because it looked far too real for his own tastes or peace of mind... The last time he had been here the wall had been empty.

"Bloody Merlin!" one of the Aurors exclaimed, clutching his chest.

"That thing looks too real," muttered another one.

Severus walked towards the end of the hall, trying to order his heart to stop beating so fast. Despite the knowledge that it was not real, he almost had a heart attack when the basilisk's head left the wall. The professor closed his eyes, trying not to scamper when a tongue that did not feel like stone, but was warm and slightly moist, caressed his cheek. Much to his relief, the snake returned to the wall and the entrance was opened. He took a deep breath to compose himself and entered the room. It took all his will power not to gape at the sight.

"Slytherin was nuts, but he had excellent taste," an Auror commented, looking around the room.

"If I'd known they had such a place in the castle, I would have begged to be a Slytherin," Black complained.

"I don't think I would have been able to deal with the basilisk," another muttered.

"Stop chitchatting!" Alastor Moody barked.

"Good evening. We've been waiting," Harry Potter greeted the group. "The dorms are that way. They are all individual rooms, so we apologize for all the extra work. The year and name of the student are written on plaques that are placed on the doors. The prefects will guide you to the dorms and all of us will give our wands for inspection," the boy announced, and the Aurors nodded dumbly.

"Well, lad, you made our job easier. Pucey, it's good you're here! Remember what I taught you during the summer?" Moody asked the boy, who didn't even grace the man with a glance.

"Aside from constant vigilance, eh, not much," Adrian shrugged.

"Cheeky brat," the scarred Auror muttered.

"Thank you, sir," the boy answered, wearing an impish smile.

"Whatever, rascal. Help the others to examine the wands," the man ordered, either smiling or scowling at the boy. It was hard to determine his expression thanks to all the scars and the missing bits of flesh.

"Priori Incantatem or Proigoumeno Xorki?" Adrian inquired, taking out his wand.

"You already learnt that. Good, very good," the man nodded, his tone was enough to make the other Aurors and a few students take a few steps away from him. "I want to see the latter. Let's see if you mess anything up."

Severus eyed the interaction of his student with the Head of the DMLE, a man that also happened to be one of the most fearsome Aurors in history. Was Pucey planning on becoming an Auror, despite his father being a Death Eater? Or maybe it was because of it. Who knew what dangerous things Alastor had been teaching the boy, knowledge that he was sure would be given to the Potter brat. Perhaps that was the reason Pucey had decided to be an Auror, because the pampered prince had ordered him to.

"Harry, I need to speak with you once the inspection is over," the brat's godfather told the boy, who nodded in response.

Severus watched as the students divided themselves by year, even the Durmstrang students, submitting their wands and themselves for inspection. The confused Aurors did not comment on their willingness to cooperate. The teacher glared at the room, loathing the way it had changed so much from the last time he had been in the place. Suppressing a sneer, he noticed that everything had changed since the brat had arrived and he had been powerless to stop it. He was about to glare at the cause of all his vexations when he noticed students that did not belong in his House lounging in one of the seating areas.

"What's the meaning of this?" he barked, signalling at the brat's friends. Much to his frustration, the boy only raised an eyebrow at his question. "What are they doing inside the common room?"

"I wasn't aware that there was a law against having friends in the common room," prefect Selwyn said, positioning herself between that group and him.

"It's inferred that no stranger will be admitted inside a common room," Severus added, gritting his teeth in annoyance.

"May we know why not? We consider them friends and we trust them. Besides, our own friends invite us to their common rooms. Perhaps this rule was practised during the times where the Houses' rivalry was based on animosity instead of healthy competition. We no longer follow that barbaric tradition," Emilia retorted.

Severus was a smart man and knew when to back down. It didn't mean he had to like it, though. However, he understood that if he continued pushing he would encounter resistance and the little respect his house had for him would be lost. Prefect Selwyn was not the only one who had jumped to the group's defence and that fact pained him more than he was willing to admit. He glared at Potter, who had the gall to smile. That faux polite smile was unable to hide the brat's amusement at his plight.

"Emilia, he's a teacher. Be more respectful," the brat chided and much to his chagrin the girl actually looked abashed.

"I apologize, Professor Snape," the girl stated, but he did not miss the defiance in her eyes nor the fact that the only reason she was apologizing was because the boy had asked her to.

He nodded stiffly while trying to ignore the impotence that was constricting his chest, flooding his heart with uncertainty and threatening to increase the torment his constant failures brought. Harry Potter had excessive control over his House and Severus was beginning to despise the situation even more than before.

Sirius Black had been having a tranquil evening with his girlfriend. Even though a few months had gone by since they started dating, she had become an essential part of his life. Amelia Bones was the woman that grounded his feet to reality and yet encouraged him to continue dreaming. She was the one who had been helping him get over his memories of Azkaban, despite the fact that she had little to no time for herself. That day would have been another unbelievably perfect one in his new life.

It was obvious he had jinxed himself because, not even a minute later, he had received an emergency Floo call from Professor Flitwick, summoning him, along with Amelia and Miss Blair, because his godson had been selected as the fourth champion of that bloody Tournament. It had taken all of his self-control not to invade the school screaming bloody murder, but to contact the attorney while his girlfriend spoke with Moody.

He flooed to the castle thanks to the access that Flitwick had given him. Sirius strode towards the great hall. On his face was etched an uncharacteristically grave expression and the murderous glint in his eyes scared away any curious student. He had known that moronic championship would bring nothing good! But had they listened to him? Of course not! Now his godson was paying for his inability to cancel the stupid thing. However, if they thought he was going to allow his pup to compete, they were going to discover the reason why he was a Black.

He barged into the room that the vertically challenged professor had signalled, interrupting the conversation and demanding answers. It was good that Amelia was beside him, helping him to keep his temper in check, or he would have crucioed the pests that kept insisting on the idea of his godson participating. It was also good that he was the boyfriend of the Minister, who also happened to be an intimidating woman that few dared to oppose. It was even better that Andra Blair could instil fear in the bravest of men with the threat of a lawsuit. Between the both of them, Sirius didn't need to crucio anyone because the women did a better job than the curse.

The only thing that bothered him was how nonchalant Harry was with the situation. For a brief moment, he considered that the boy had actually put his name in the Goblet. That idea was discarded when he glimpsed the teenager's eyes; they held an eerie resemblance to Lily's when some idiotic fool had managed to awaken her wrath. That woman may have been the gentlest person Sirius had ever met, but she Merlin knew she had quite a temper. Lily Evans' ire was ice cold, so she never yelled or exploded; she waited until the perfect moment to respond. She rarely used force; instead, she used acerbic words that left a scar on whoever had wronged her... It seemed her son had also inherited that particular trait.

In an inappropriate moment of humour, he remembered why he always saw Harry as a little Lily. No matter if he wanted to see another James in the boy, Harry was nothing like his father. Sirius sighed while he watched his godson leave. Most of the time, he was grateful that the boy was more like his mother, because he couldn't imagine all the migraines a little James would have caused him. However, he still wished his pup would possess that mischievous spark that had characterized his best friend.

Never mind. Touching the wood of the closest chair, he begged to any deity that had heard his ramblings to ignore them. He had enough headaches as it was and the idea of raising a James Junior made him shudder. The sight of a far too cheerful Bagman brought him out of his musing and his anger was rekindled.

"Miss Blair, please go and get a copy of the rules. We can keep in contact through the mirror," Sirius told the woman, who simply nodded and left the room without looking back. "First, I want to know what would happen if Harry didn't compete."

"He would lose his magic," the idiot, Leonard, answered as if it was the most common thing in the world, making his fists itch with desire to cause physical pain.

"What worries me is not whether he competes or not," announced an annoyed Flitwick, tired of their useless discussion. "This Tournament is meant for adults; it was stated as a norm. We don't know whether the Goblet accepted this rule but, if it did, it could strip Mister Potter of his magic if he does compete," the man said. The realization his words brought was almost enough to make Sirius' knees buckle.

"What will we do?" whispered a pale McGonagall. An attractive blonde woman helped the professor to take a seat in a conjured chair, for the old woman looked on the border of collapsing.

"That's exactly my point," Flitwick sighed, looking like the old man he was for once. "The rules don't really matter because we don't know what the Goblet considers as such. We may be sentencing him if we force him to participate, but then he will also be sentenced if he doesn't... There are no precautions too excessive, so I suggest emancipating Mister Potter, just in case."

"Filius! How could you even suggest that? He's a child," Dumbledore rebuked the man. The headmaster's usual grandfatherly smile was gone, replaced with cold eyes and a stony expression.

"How could I suggest that? Simple. I'm thinking about the best way of preserving the safety of my student. Harry loves magic and if he lost it... I don't even want to consider that possibility. My question is how dare you try to admonish me? I told you that a simple age line would do nothing and even offered my services to create a ward around the Goblet. Do you remember what your answer was? 'It won't be necessary, I doubt anything will happen.' Those were your exact words. If there's someone who needs to be reprimanded, it's you for your irresponsibility," the professor stated and, although he had not raised his voice, his words were enough to ensure Dumbledore remained silent, though the headmaster's reluctance could be seen by the tightness of his jaw and the way the man gripped his wand.

"Professor McGonagall, the Aurors are waiting," Amelia Bones reminded the woman, ignoring the tense atmosphere that refused to dissipate.

"I'll take care of the inspections, along with the professors that wish to come with me," Isabelle Kowalski offered, knowing the old woman was too distraught. "I hope students aren't the only ones being inspected. A professor is more likely to have circumvented the headmaster's age line."

"As long as the professors have no problems with it," Amelia answered after a brief moment of deliberation.

"I don't believe anyone will. I also suggest examining the Goblet and parchment," the blonde woman said.

"I can lead the Aurors to examine the goblet while Isabelle takes care of the students, then we'll lead you towards the professors' quarters," Mister Albee offered.

"Very well, I thank you for the assistance," the Minister sighed, rubbing the arm of her distraught boyfriend.

"I will be leading the Aurors to the Slytherin common room," Snape announced, much to the displeasure of Professor Kowalski.

"Let's get back to the important matters," Filius said once the group left. "What will we do about Mister Potter?"

"I'll speak with Andra so he can be emancipated. I won't risk his magic," Sirius answered. For a moment, the man looked far too old and tired for his body.

"I don't think that's the best decision," Dumbledore told the man.

"Then what do you suggest? Is there a way to prove the boy will keep his magic even if he's not a legal adult entering the competition?" Filius asked, his voice dripping irritation, and the slightest hint of anger was beginning to appear on the man's usually cheerful face.

"Harry is far too young," Albus tried to argue.

"And yet you were agreeing with him being forced to enter the competition," Amelia snapped.

"So the boy will compete?" asked Madam Maxime, reminding the people in the room of the presence of the other two headmasters.

"Is that all you care about, Olympe? Are you so frightened that a fourteen-year-old boy will outshine your student?" demanded a furious Minerva, her anger winning over her worry.

"It is unfair that Hogwarts has two champions!" the tall woman argued, her heavily accented English turning almost incomprehensible.

"My godson said he won't be representing Hogwarts," hissed Sirius.

"I believe we'll never find agreement in this matter," said Flitwick, his tone ensuring the discussion was stopped. "I believe it would be appropriate if each of our visitors chose another champion, though it would be fair if all the students were given an equal opportunity."

"The Goblet doesn't work that way," Pedja Bjelac grunted.

"They don't have to be chosen by that archaic artefact. A simple name drawing will do. It would also be better if we did it in front of the whole school, for fairness' sake, you know?" Flitwick commented.

"I like that idea," Madam Maxime nodded, the scowl disappearing from her face.

"Don't forget that each school may only have one champion, so the ones you choose will have to represent another group," a cheerful charms professor reminded the woman.

"Unlike Olympe, I don't like the idea. This is meant to be the Triwizard Tournament. I did not have much problem with Potter competing, but now we are adding more people," Pedja announced, glaring at everyone in the room.

"I agree with you, but nothing about this Tournament is going as we expected, thanks to the poor planning of the involved parties," Flitwick shrugged.

"I'll go to speak with my godson," Sirius muttered after a few moments of silence.

"The Aurors will also inspect the offices. This could be a direct threat to the last Potter and that's enough to launch a full investigation," Madam Bones said, looking at Dumbledore. "Therefore, no one will be spared. I will begin examining the wands of all the people in this room."

Sirius waited until Amelia was done inspecting the wands, finding no possible spell that could have been cast that would have forced the Goblet to choose a fourth champion. After what felt like an eternity, the pair left the room and made their way to the dungeons. They waited in the entrance of the dungeons until the group of Aurors arrived, being led by a sneering Snape and a scowling Moody.

Amelia noticed Sirius' tense posture and tried to reassure the man by holding his hand. No words were needed; he took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax. The pair ignored the ruckus the Aurors ahead of them were making, or at least tried to, but their annoying yelps were enough to merit their attention. While Madam Bones prided herself on the fact that she tended to be stoic and her years as an Auror ensured her reaction to danger were of the violent kind, the shock prevented her from raising her wand. A basilisk was about to eat the Potions professor. Not that she minded, but dealing with a basilisk was not what she was expecting to do that night. Her eyes widened even more when the giant snake returned to the wall and the entrance to the Slytherin common room was revealed.

The couple shared a look, but decided that Salazar must have wanted to scare away all the innocent students that may have not liked snakes. After all, how sane could have the man been if he had believed in blood purity. The moment Sirius stepped in the room, his eyes widened in surprise. The room was a hundred times better than the Gryffindor common room... Though both had hideous guardians, he believed the basilisk was less annoying than the Fat Lady.

"If I'd known they had such a place in the castle, I would have begged to be a Slytherin," he almost whined and all Amelia could do was nod at him.

Sirius observed the way his godson managed the situation with pride. His pup was growing up way too fast for his liking, but he was still young... The man sighed in defeat and his heart contracted in searing pain at the idea of making the boy a legal adult at such a young age. Harry would be thrown into the world of politics, where he was nothing more than a hefty bag of galleons in the eyes of unscrupulous people. However, he was Lily's son through and through. The boy possessed a tactical mind and knew where his limitations lay, a sensible trait neither James nor he had and, more times than not, wished they did. For someone so young, he had a way with words and unrivalled charisma. Sirius knew that, even though his godson was young, he was already mature enough to assume the responsibilities that the adult life brought. At least he hoped that was the case

The problem was that he had wished to guide the child, just as James had asked him to. So far, he had only been able to offer him minimum counsel because, most of the time, it was Harry taking care of him instead. The man admitted feeling defeated. He had hoped for so many things when he was freed, but was unable to accomplish none of them. His godson had already been self-sufficient and fiercely independent when they met once again, not relying on him, or anyone else for that matter. It was quite depressing to acknowledge that he had not been able to fulfil his duties as godfather.

His moment of self-pity was interrupted by Amelia, who took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. The woman knew him far too well, but he didn't mind. He gave her a small smile and walked towards his godson. Sirius may have not been the best godfather, but that did not mean he was going to stop trying to protect the boy he considered his own child.

"Harry, I need to speak with you once the inspection is over," he told the boy, who nodded at him but kept looking at the Aurors inspecting the students.

Sirius took a seat and waited, however, that greasy git had to interrupt his brief moment of peace by yelling at his godson. Of course, he was not going to allow it. Standing up to defend the boy, he was yanked back by the Greengrass girl, who shook her head and pointed at the other side of the room. He tried to control his reaction, though he did not think he had been successful. Most of the Slytherins had responded by drawing their wands and were ready to attack, although he was not expecting their anger being directed at the head of the House instead of the boy-who-lived. It was curious how the world worked...

The man waited with patience he was not aware of possessing until the inspections were finished. Taking a deep breath, he scowled at the floor. It was definitely not a student who had put Harry's name on the Goblet; Moody would have noticed the slightest hesitation from anyone. The only suspects left were the staff from the school and the Ministry representatives. Of course, there was also Voldemort, though what rational and remotely intelligent being would submit a name into a competition instead of finding other ways of attacking his fourteen-year-old nemesis? He doubted the aesthetically-impaired man was that petty or stupid.

An amused huff left his lips; it seemed that exhaustion made your thoughts go in strange directions. At last, the Aurors got ready to leave.

"I'll go and help Moody with the inspections, okay?" Amelia whispered.

"After talking with Harry, I'll go to the great hall," he told the woman, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand before she left.

"Sirius, do you want something to drink? You look tired," Draco told him, slight worry shining on his eyes.

"Not really. Harry, we need to talk," Sirius sighed.

"If your face is anything to go by I guess I'll be competing," Harry muttered.

"The Tournament isn't what worries me now. Flitwick said something. Unfortunately, it sounds too logical," he murmured and after a moment, he decided to summon his courage and tell everything to his godson. "... We don't know what rules the Goblet considers to be in place, including the new regulations they implemented. You're a minor entering a competition that is meant for legal adults, which means you could be breaking one of the rules and lose your magic," he stated, closing his eyes, for he didn't wish to see Harry's fear.

"That means I have to become a legal adult," Harry nodded. "I don't mind, though I won't take my seat in the Wizengamot in the foreseeable future, or maybe ever."

"That's it?" Sirius asked, incredulous.

"What were you expecting? Not much will change. I'll still live in the castle, Ragnok will still be in charge of the money, I'll still ask you and Aunt Eleadora for permission... I think I'll also keep ignoring the Ministry events unless Madam Bones is organizing something," he said in a casual tone.

"What about the responsibilities of being the official Lord Potter?" the man asked, his mouth refusing to follow his orders and close.

"I'm not becoming the Lord until I'm at least seventeen, though the liaisons of the house are going well," Harry said, signalling his friends, many who also happened to be heirs. "Ploutos and Ragnok are taking care of the businesses and investments, not much to do."

"It seems I was worried for nothing," Sirius chuckled and then sighed. "What about the Tournament?"

"What about it? Professor Flitwick is giving me sixth-year material, so I'm not that far behind. Besides, the other champions will take pity on poor innocent me and help me if necessary," he said, smirking at his friends and causing Fleur to snort in amusement. "Any other things we should know?"

"Yeah, the other schools will also choose another champion each. That French harpy was being too insistent on how unfair the competition would be, so Flitwick suggested it."

"That's not fair," Justin muttered.

"It doesn't matter, we have other advantages," Harry told the boy, holding back a smirk. "I don't think you know my new friends yet. This is Justin Finch-Fletchey, Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, and Fleur Delacour. This is my godfather, Sirius Black."

"Pleased to meet you," the man told the kids, smiling at them. "It's strange that the four official champions are friends."

"What can we say? The Goblet knows how to recognize real talent," the French girl retorted, her slight accent betraying her nationality and making the man explode in laughter.

"Damn right. Okay kiddos, it's time to leave. My lovely girlfriend is waiting for me," the man announced, his cheerful disposition reappearing after the stressful evening.

"How will we arrange the emancipation?" Harry asked his godfather.

"Amelia and Andra will arrange everything. Though, if we need anything, I will be dropping by."

"Sure... You'll have to tell Aunt Eleadora and I will tell Elizabeth," Harry sighed, trying to ignore the trepidation that crept into him.

"She hates me!" Sirius whined.

"Do you want to tell Lizzy?" Blaise asked, incredulous.

"I would rather not tell any of them and leave that task in your capable hands," the man blabbered, already taking a few steps back.

"No thanks, besides, the worst she will do is rant for hours... or curse you and murder those responsible," Harry shrugged. "My sister will yell at me for most of the night. I refuse to lose a whole night of sleep."

"I'll tell Remus to tell her!"

"If you also want to hear his rant," his godson shrugged.

Sirius left the Slytherin common room muttering about sadistic godsons and a particularly evil woman.