The following days were a blur for Harry Potter, except for a couple of interesting events. The school classes were monotonous and quite dull compared to his personal studies, yet he had learnt years ago to use those invaluable hours of his time for something productive. Now, when the others were listening to the theory, he read his complex texts. In the beginning, few professors approved of him not paying attention. However, they knew that his understanding of most subjects rivalled that of older students, so the most the famous boy received was disapproving glances and glares, the latter being courtesy of the potion’s teacher.

While his classmates were concentrated on trying to cast the new spells, he would refine his own techniques in order to master the assigned charm or the next one on his list. Whilst the teachers tended to applaud his initiative, there were students that tried to emulate Snape by glaring at him with jealousy almost emanating from their pores.

Of course, for the non-wanded subjects, things were a bit trickier. His excellent memory and analytical brain were enough to grant him an unrivalled place. Nevertheless, his mental prowess was unable to compete against Neville’s sheer genius when dealing with plants or match George’s erratic yet surprisingly effective rune arrays. Nor did he possess Fred and Flora’s passion for potion brewing, though his knowledge was far beyond what any school student should possess, much to his chagrin and aunt Eleadora's satisfaction. Harry Potter’s potions were nothing but perfect, a fact that pained Snape every time he tried to find flaws in the boy’s work.

Not that he cared. Harry tasted the invigorating satisfaction of being second to none... What an addicting sensation that was. By any means, the boy should have already skipped a year or even more. This was not said boy’s desire, for it would only hamper his plans for the future. Hogwarts was the perfect place to keep out of the eyes of the public while the initial stages of his projects took place. For the moment, he would enjoy his last years of peace before he was thrown in the backstabbing world of adults.

Ah, how could he forget that marvellous conversation with Professor McGonagall? He, along with many other students, was granted permission to visit Hogsmeade every weekend, something that he did not really care about, but it was refreshing to have the liberty to leave the castle when he wished... Not that he could not do that before, but at least now he had an alibi.

Then, there had also been the matter with his reporter. Rita had been ordered to write a more detailed article about the 'Triwizard Scandal', as it was named. The woman had not disappointed in the least. Skeeter wrote about the changes the competition would go under in order to ensure the safety of the six champions. There was also a juicy interview with Minister Bones and Auror Moody, informing about the new security measures and explaining with detail how a first-year student would have been able to formulate safer tasks and do a better job organizing the event. That was the last nail the planners' coffins needed.

Leonard Fawley was fired that same day, thanks to the ire of the magical citizens. The misshapen bee, however, had suffered a more terrible fate. It seemed Bagman had many gambling debts, which Rita described in detail thanks to the information the Goblin Nation provided. It was a shame the man run away from the country before the DMLE visited him. It was also a shame that the Aurors were on high alert and captured him in less than an hour. He was going to serve three years in the lower levels of Azkaban for embezzlement and tax evasion.

However, the crème de la crème had been the information about 'Dumbledore’s shameful resignation from the position he managed to pollute in ignominy,' as Rita stated. Even though there was much uproar, it seemed that the population was appeased, a thing that did not please the last Potter in the slightest. Lucius and Sirius confirmed how the old man managed to keep the position of headmaster by the skin of his teeth. Yet, Harry had to admire the sheer determination the headmaster had to safeguard his place in the school. Albus used every tool at his disposition, something that aroused his curiosity. What did a school offer compared to the Wizengamot? Harry had a plethora of theories but needed more information.

Harry sighed, noticing that once again he had spaced out. When he focused his eyes, the sight that welcomed him was Luna playing with Marcus' hair, much to the man’s reluctant delight. He wondered where the rest of his members were, and then he remembered that they said something about practising for the Quidditch match next week... Mmm, he should talk with them about their uniforms.

"It’s good that you're amongst the living again," Marcus joked.

"I apologize, having a limited mental capacity must be frustrating," the teenager answered, containing the smirk that wanted to escape at the man’s offended expression.

"I've been having these strange dreams," Luna commented, breaking the playful banter.

"Is that why you've been so tired?" Marcus demanded to know.

"In part. I woke up confused and began drawing what I saw. There is a dark place and a door that has a knob in the middle. Inside, there are many orbs that like to gossip... I'm not sure what they are, but they resemble memories when they are pulled out," the slight girl sighed.

"That’s perhaps the strangest room in existence," the younger boy muttered.

"It is, but they whisper to me. One, in particular, tries to warn me, but I can't hear anything it says. Another dream I've been having is about fairies... Those are the worst," she muttered and walked towards Harry. Luna latched to his side and he comforted her with an embrace. "For some reason, I'm able to see how they were hunted. It was so cruel... I see glimpses of fairies being experimented on; that’s how Time-Turners were created."

"I always believed runic arrays were responsible," a surprised Marcus murmured.

"In a way, but the essential part of every Time-Turner is the dust. Fairy wings and hearts, those are the main ingredients. They are the only beings that are able to alter time as they wish," she tried to explain between sobs. "It was so cruel... Mother Magic wept for her children; she cursed the ones involved in the research. They all died in heinous ways, but I still don't think it’s enough."

"Is that why the knowledge of how to make them was lost?" Harry asked the girl that had somehow moved into his lap, not doubting for a second that what she had seen was real.

"Harry, I want to destroy them," Luna whispered, drying her tears.

"Then we will."

"The last Time-Turners are in the Department of Mysteries," Marcus commented, looking thoughtful. "I can get access thanks to my position, but I think it will be better if we send someone else in order to keep a low profile. Better yet, we can capture an Unspeakable, extract the information and obliviate them."

"The elves I acquired from the Ministry could be useful; ask them when you arrive at the castle. Though you just piqued my curiosity; what on earth is the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked.

"The place where the Unspeakables research and examine magic and its phenomena. Honestly, it’s the place where the Ministry dumps everything they can't understand or is far too afraid to try," Marcus explains, wearing a light scowl. "One of its divisions is in charge of the Time Room."

"That will be our next objective then," the young male nodded.

"The Hogwarts Quidditch matches will begin next week. I already want to see them," Luna said in that dreamy tone of hers that dissipated the tension.

"You know? You should speak with Ragnok about improving the school’s pitch. The wooden seats are far too uncomfortable, not to mention that it’s hard to concentrate on the game when the sun is doing its best to cause third-degree burns or when it’s so cold that the best you can do is try not to freeze to death," Marcus suggested, remembering all his terrible experiences as an spectator and consequent painful memories as a player.

"I never had the displeasure to see any game other than the World Cup, but I will speak about it with Ragnok," Harry agreed. "I've been thinking of having all the students examined by a certified psychiatrist and a psychologist. I discovered a few days ago that Cedric has trouble concentrating. However, since he started practising wandless magic he advanced more than I expected. He’s able to connect with his core with no problems and begun building his mental shields. What I worry about is the amount of potential that is lost thanks to the professors' ignorance of the matter."

"That’s not my area, but I think it’s a good idea," the man nodded. "In any case, it would be good to have a profile of the students. Many Dark Lords could have been avoided this way."

"Miss Blair is searching for reliable people to hire... I guess I will also make this a demand when we donate all the money," the boy sighed.

"What about the uniforms?" Luna chirped.

"What’s wrong with them?" Marcus asked in response.

"Not these ones, the ones that our Quidditch team will wear and, of course, what our four champions will wear," the girl deadpanned.

"I'll call Ella to take their measurements when they finish practising. I already told Penelope to create a subtler version of our armour so we can wear them during the Tournament, though she needs to know what colours they prefer... Let’s stop wasting time, who wants to duel?"

Hours later, dinner was being served in the Court’s Headquarters, where all the people present looked as if they had run a marathon. Harry tried to regain control of his legs, which felt worse than lead, while he waited for his elves to arrange the tasty-looking plates filled with food.

"Master, enjoy your meal!" Ella told the boy, who returned the smile of the cheery elf.

"Thank you, dear, will you join us?"

"No sir, Lea and I are dining together. We are experimenting with new desserts."

"Very well then. Before you leave, I have a small favour to ask. Could you please take the measurements of my new friends?"

"Of course!" the little one announced. With a snap of her fingers, a measuring tape appeared and she walked towards the four newest members.

"Why are we getting our measurements taken?" asked a curious Fleur, who was the first one to volunteer.

"Because we will need uniforms to compete. Minister Bones may be in charge of organizing the tasks, but there’s always a possibility of something going wrong," Harry explained.

"But you will all choose the colours," Luna told the others.

"I want mine in red wine or burgundy," the French girl commented.

"Um, black?" Cedric said with a sheepish smile when he noticed people were waiting for his answer.

"Wearing black isn't always the most subtle approach," Blaise told the boy.

"Then I give the elves free rein," the Hufflepuff prefect said.

"I think I will do the same," Viktor agreed hurriedly.

"Ehm, that is great and all, but why am I being measured?" asked a bewildered Justin.

"We all have armour, besides, we get our clothes in Harry’s store so the elves already have our measurements," Draco explained, not waiting for the others to join and began eating.

"Talking about uniforms, what will we wear for the matches?" asked a wide-eyed Adrian.

"Clothes of course, unless you wish to go au naturale," Terrence shrugged.

"I will decide what we are wearing for the matches. Ella, do you mind if I call you tomorrow?" Fleur asked the elf, who had just finished her job.

"Nope, I have a free day tomorrow and I don't mind spending it with master’s friend," the elf nodded with eagerness. "Goodnight!"

"Do you need to kidnap my elf tomorrow?" Harry asked the French girl.

"It is not kidnapping, we will have a girl’s day and she will help me choose our Quidditch uniforms," she answered casually. "... Who wants to join?" Fleur asked, ignoring the males in the room.

In that strange turn of events, Sunday in the Guild’s Headquarters was spent without the females of the group. While in most of the cases their dynamic would not be affected, six worried boys didn' allow the others to enjoy their day. This small group was formed by the members of the Quidditch team, who were fretting about what their captain would choose as uniforms.

"Why did we choose Fleur again?" groaned a frowning Terrence.

"Because she has more guts than all of us together," was Fred’s languid response.

"But what if she makes us wear skirts?" asked a fretting Adrian.

"Then I suggest asking Professor McGonagall for that waxing charm she likes to use," answered a lackadaisical Harry.

"We are men," whimpered Cedric.

"And how’s that my fault?" retorted Blaise, who was being shaken by the Hufflepuff prefect. "But you have a point. I doubt any of you will be able to pull off a skirt."

"What side are you on?" demanded a scowling Adrian.

"The side of my sanity, which is telling me that I don't want to see any of you in a skirt unless you try to look presentable," murmured Neville, who ignored the argument until the moment.

"I think it’s a lost cause. No matter how much they try, Fleur will look better," shrugged Theo.

"I don't think that we should worry about wearing a skirt," whispered a grave Viktor, interrupting the argument. "Have you ever heard of corsets?" he asked in a deep voice that filled most of the group with dread.

"Those tight things that my mother likes to wear," Blaise answered in a dismissive tone.

"They are not simple clothing," the Bulgarian student denied. "They are torture devices," he announced, making many gasp in surprise. "Its purpose is to rearrange the spine and abdominal organs, making the wearer look leaner."

"Do you... Will Fleur make us wear those?" asked a cowed George.

Harry could only sigh at the idiocy of his friends, whose theories turned even wilder and unrealistic by the second. It seemed his vexation was shared by Justin, Blaise, and Neville, who had grown up having a female as the main influence. At least their strange conversation amused him. However, he knew that Fleur was a practical person and the Quidditch team would not be wearing the ridiculous things they were speaking about... Much to his slight disappointment, considering all the blackmail material he could have acquired.

It was what it was. Besides, his elves were going to make the clothes, so it was offensive that people believed their attire would be anything other than astounding. It was not his fault that they lacked the physical attributes to complement the garments.

SCENE BREAK

The days until the Hogwarts Quidditch Tournament went by in eternal torture for some and infinite amusement for others. The members of the Court that participated were filled with dread; undiluted fear of what had their captain chosen as the team uniform, frightened about having to wear one of the torture instruments females seemed to favour. Said captain enjoyed her friends' dilemma, especially after a concerned Neville asked her to stop torturing her team. Not that she stopped, but most of the time they were so tired that they barely remembered that the match would be soon.

At the moment, Harry was leading his group towards the seats in the Slytherin stands that his elves had enchanted in order to make them more comfortable. Draco and Theo were whispering to each other, worried frowns marring their features.

"When will you tell them that they aren't going to wear skirts?" Luna asked him.

"Skirts are not what they're worried about," answered Daphne in Harry’s stead, a wide smirk plastered on her face.

When the Court’s team was announced, the worried teens' eyes widened in surprise. They were not wearing skirts, or dresses, or corsets, or high heels. In essence, it was a simple but quite practical uniform. White pullover, black track pants, and the usual protective gear that included a helmet and protective goggles... It was strange that no one had ever included those in the sport. After all, a Bludger in the head was enough to send someone to St. Mungo’s for a long, long time and eyes were not easy to replace. The only thing that stood out – aside from their protective gear – was the golden numbers in the back of the players and the lack of the traditional robe.

"They look normal..." whispered a shocked Theo.

"What were you expecting Fleur to choose?" asked a curious Blaise, making the boy and Draco blush.

"She wouldn't allow the students to be traumatized with the terrible sight of them wearing skirts," added Hestia, winking at her sister who was trying to stifle her laughter.

Harry decided to ignore the banter that was about to take place in favour of watching the game, something that he would not have done under any other circumstance, but he wished to know how well his friends were going to represent the Court. Of course, he was not disappointed.

George and Fred were formidable Beaters, knowing each other so well that they didn't need words to communicate. The devil twins were forcing the opposing Chasers to concentrate on dodging the Bludgers instead of scoring or trying to catch the Quaffle... Not that they would have been successful against Fleur, Cedric, and Adrian. The three Chasers had terrific teamwork, thanks to the arduous hours they dedicated to practising. While they were busy scoring points, Viktor was the impenetrable wall that blocked the opposing team. It went without saying that Terrence was giving a migraine to the other Seeker. The boy feinted so many dives that his rival was unwilling to follow his lead, something that gave him an advantage when he spotted the Golden Snitch... Suddenly, Harry understood the reason why Fleur decided to include gold in the uniforms. ‘Such a devious woman,’ the boy thought, containing his amusement at the cunning plan the French student had devised.

Ten minutes in and the Court’s Quidditch team was already dominating the game, less than an hour in and the results of the game were almost defined. The opposing team was playing for honour and perhaps hoping to catch the Snitch, that way their defeat wouldn't be so appalling. However, Terrence crushed their rival’s last chances of victory when he caught the golden ball. Three hundred and sixty to seventy, a pitiable defeat by anyone’s terms... Now that he thought about it, it may be possible that having a personal Quidditch pitch to train on gave the Court an unfair advantage over the other Hogwarts teams. Well, it was not as if he cared. Each person had different tools to their advantage and they needed to learn how to use them.

The raucous cheers of the students reminded Harry of the reason why he loathed crowds and Quidditch matches in general. This game may have not been so bad, but he still had no interest in it. He regretted not asking his elves to put barriers up to block the noise or doing it himself. Yet, seeing the stoic McGonagall cheering so loud that she drowned the commentator was a sight to behold.

The group waited until most of the spectators left the pitch in order to go to congratulate their friends. Harry sauntered to the dressing rooms, unlike the over-excitable balls of energy that ran in that direction. When he arrived, the sight that welcomed him was almost enough to make him laugh. Luna was hanging on Viktor, emulating an overgrown koala and, for some reason, Adrian was sitting on the floor.

"Let’s celebrate the first victory of the Court’s Quidditch team," suggested Flora.

Instead of using their Hogsmeade privileges, they decided to spend the day in their Headquarters. That did not mean the group did not celebrate. Thanks to the elves, they had a variety of treats and desserts, something that most of the members enjoyed.

"Astoria was complaining about her grades not being enough to get the sweets she wants from the store," Daphne commented.

"Should we assign her a tutor to help her in school?" asked a surprised Draco.

"She doesn't need it. The problem is that she wants everything that the place has to offer," the blonde girl dismissed him.

"So, do the students like the store?" Terrence asked to no one in particular.

"Ickle Ronnikins loves it," said an amused George.

"That’s the reason why he’s studying," Fred chuckled.

"It’s good as an immediate reward system," agreed Blaise.

"You know? All the Durmstrang students like this school better," Viktor told the group.

"Even the three troublesome guests?" asked a smirking Justin.

"Maybe not them, but they will not complain. The Durmstrang castle is smaller so we have to share a room with at least five others and the bathrooms are nothing to be proud of. At least they now have a semblance of privacy," shrugged the Bulgarian student.

"Most of the Beauxbatons students find reasons to complain. It is annoying," murmured Fleur.

"So what do they complain about?" asked a smiling Theo.

"Everything, from the food and the climate to the lack of attractive men," the French girl answered. "They are just offended about no one paying them attention."

"So nothing important or interesting," sighed Hestia.

"Touch wood, we have enough as it is," murmured Marcus, "Madam Bones found the perfect location to build the arena. It’s near the school, in a deserted clearing on the outskirts of the village. It was literally desolate, but the Ministry officials found a nasty goobsnark that tried to eat one of them. We're thinking about using it for the competition."

"Then what’s the problem?" Cedric asked.

"That we are not sure if the stands will be built in two weeks," the man groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. "The Minister spoke with the Gringotts representative. The wards are already in place, and Andra is writing the hiring contracts so the place is safe, but we don't have time to search for all the workers."

"Then ask Rome. There are so many elves in the castle that they don't have enough things to do and are getting bored. I'm sure that a few dozen will like the idea of helping," Harry suggested.

"Thank you," Marcus said in the most relieved tone any of them had ever heard. "But Madam Bones will have my head for sharing the information."

"Just tell her that you asked Harry permission to recruit his elves for two weeks," Daphne appeased the stressed male.

"I will ask Rome this evening," Marcus sighed. "I was speaking with the elves that worked on the Ministry and they had quite a bit of information. A few of them recognized the place that Luna drew as the Hall of Prophecies, where every single prophecy is recorded and stored there."

"So there could be a prophecy about Luna or any of us, or even about her father or some acquaintance," Harry sighed, not satisfied with the information.

"Prophecies are shadowy and untrustworthy," Blaise said, frowning.

"Have you ever heard of the terms self-fulfilling and self-defeating prophecies?" Luna asked, playing with her food and ignoring everyone in the room. "Merlin believed he was given the prophecy of the Saviour and he did everything in his power to ensure he was born, destroying many lives in the process. Arthur was never named, just the supposed stars of his birth, which could have been interpreted in thousands of ways. Merlin, in his mania to protect the Magical world, ignored all the signs of his wrongdoings and that was his own downfall. He was defeated by Morgana, one of his victims, a monster of his own creation. Arthur was left fighting a war by himself. In the end, Albion was never formed and the magicals kept being hunted, but at least people no longer dared to harm the ones who carried the blessings of Morgana... History likes to repeat herself, how cruel."

While Luna explained, her eyes acquired that eerie pale colour that characterized her when she was lost in the knowledge of the past. Multiple times, Harry wondered what the limitations of the girl’s gift were. She had notions about the future, an invaluable tool that had aided their group to prevent innumerable catastrophes. The problem was that seers were meant to see the future, but Luna had knowledge about the past and the present. No matter how hard he searched, the information about savant seers was almost non-existent so he didn't know whether it was part of her gift or if it was another totally different talent.

"Every time I hear you talk about Merlin I feel less impressed by him," commented Draco, breaking the tension.

"Yeah, he sounds like a manipulative son of a-"

"Shut it, you may be insulting an innocent woman," Daphne interrupted Theo’s rant.

"That doesn't mean it’s not true," said Terrence.

"Do any of your family libraries have more information about Merlin?" asked a curious Neville, glancing at Blaise, who was already beside Luna.

"One of my ancestor’s journals has a few details about Morgana, that’s it," muttered Daphne.

"Not to be bothersome or anything similar, but Harry probably does," murmured a blushing Cedric. "Well, you know that the Potters are one of the oldest families in Europe, so maybe they have information about real events."

"You're not wrong, but it’s a nightmare to go through my entire library," Harry sighed.

"I never thought you would say that," gasped Marcus, "With your unnatural love for books and trying to live in the library... I wasn't expecting to hear that coming from you."

"Do you want to sort through the library then?" retorted the boy.

"No thanks. If four hundred elves aren't enough to go through all the books, then I have no chance," the male answered, raising his hands in surrender.

"Four hundred elves?" asked Fleur and Viktor in unison.

"He bought the elves from the Ministry," shrugged Neville.

"Never mind that, how big is your library?" asked a wide-eyed Justin.

"Imagine the school’s library five times bigger," was Hestia’s casual response.

"Who’s coming at Yule?" demanded an excited Flora, interrupting the exchange.

"Mother got another husband so count me in, though I will visit my grandparents," said Blaise, forcing Luna to eat a bowl of fruit instead of the sweets she was trying to munch.

"Depends on what expedition Daddy decides to join," the dreamy girl sighed.

"I am also joining, but I have to spend a few days with my family. This will be the first Yule without father," Daphne sighed, hiding her smirk.

"Grandma loves you so she won't mind, though I will visit my parents. Mum loves when I give her chocolate and dad likes to hear about my friends," Neville said, wearing a slight smile.

"Can we come with you or should we wait until summer?" asked Daphne.

"They'll like it. Mum didn't stop smiling when you visited and I think dad liked when you read to him, or he may have liked to have an attractive young woman paying him attention," teased Neville, earning a soft hit in the arm.

"Did your grandmother reconsider the idea of moving them?" Harry asked the boy.

"She doesn't believe that Muggles will be able to help. Grandma gave up long ago."

"So we'll have to do it the hard way," Harry sighed but nodded at Neville, who returned the gesture.

"If you don't mind me asking, what illness do your parents have?" asked a naive Justin.

"They were tortured to insanity during the war. Don't worry, I'm not offended," Neville reassured the pale Hufflepuff, "if anything, I'm proud because they sacrificed themselves to protect me."

"My mother is a doctor, a neurologist. My family owns many hospitals and research facilities. If you want, I can talk with mum about admitting your parents into one of the clinics," Justin offered after a brief moment of silence.

"That would make everything easier. I would be thankful and of course, I will pay the-"

"Don't worry about it, I'm glad to help," the Hufflepuff boy interrupted his friend.

"I guess this means we'll go ahead with the plans of moving them after Yule," Harry commented. "We have to define every detail before we do so."

"That means he has to ask Ragnok," Luna said, wearing an impish smile.

"Later," Neville muttered, obvious happiness shining on his eyes.

"We have time before Yule," Harry agreed.

"Aside from that, my parents and I are joining," Draco shrugged. "What about you?" he asked the newest members.

"Um, I don't know," Cedric said, blushing when the attention was directed at him.

"You're all invited and there’s more than enough space. You have time to decide before the holidays," Hestia chirped.

"I will speak to my parents and if they approve then I will join you," Fleur gibbered after a few moments.

"You can also ask your family to come," Harry told the girl, who nodded with enthusiasm.

"Master Potter, the professors are looking for you," someone said, surprising the members of the Court at their sudden appearance.

"Thanks, Dudi," Harry told the school elf, the first one he met in Hogwarts and a personal friend of his. "Do you know what they want?"

"Oh, yes! There is this ritual for the champions. The dishevelledy man tells the angry woman if a wand is fat!" Dudi chirped, managing to confuse Harry.

"To tell if my wand is fat?" the teen asked to confirm, and the elf nodded. "Very well then, where should we go?"

"To the inner courtyard!" the school elf answered with a happy grin.

"Thank you, Dudi," Harry told his friend and signalled his fellow champions to follow him.

"Will Master dine in the great hall? We will make his favourites!"

"Surprise us then." The elf didn't bother answering for he was too busy planning the meal and muttering under his breath.

"Ehm, are you sure we should go? I don't think my wand needs to be told if she is fat," a sheepish Viktor muttered.

"I've been teaching Dudi and the other elves the proper use of language, but they fall into old habits fast," Harry explained with a sigh. "I'm sure this is something important, but his way of interpreting the world is a bit... different."

"I never asked you this, but I'm curious. Your elves speak in a different way and they actually wear clothes. Why?" asked a frowning Cedric.

"Why not?" was the teenager’s easy response. "They're invaluable friends and deserve respect."

"But if you give them clothes you free them and, without the bond, they die," retorted the prefect.

"Not if you give them fabric or send them to get clothes. Honestly, why would I ever force them to wear a dirty pillowcase and go barefoot? They belong to the Potter family and, in a way, they represent the house," Harry shrugged.

"That is the same thing papa says," Fleur commented. "He is a politician and is always preaching about how the most insignificant detail represents the whole family."

"My mother is the one who treats elves as people, but at least father stopped punishing them," Viktor muttered, glaring at the ground.

"Yeah, my dad doesn't punish our elf. Actually, I thought that we treated her as a person until I met Ella... Now I'm sort of ashamed," murmured a grimacing Cedric.

"Well, there’s time to change. You don't even want to know how Lucius treated Dobby before Draco intervened," Harry told the older boy.

They allowed the conversation to die there and walked to the indicated place in companionable silence. The sound of excited conversations met them when they arrived at the hallway that led to the courtyard, which was filled with gossiping students. It was not unexpected or even remotely surprising when all conversations ceased once they caught a glimpse of the four champions, but that didn't mean it stopped being annoying. Harry controlled the desire to curse someone, hiding his rather violent impulse behind a neutral mask. It was good for the students that they allowed the four champions to pass instead of blocking their path.

"There you are!" exclaimed Professor Sprout, darting towards them. "We searched everywhere. Where were you?" asked the woman, a slight frown marring her usually gentle features.

"I apologize, ma'am, we didn't know there was going to be an event," Harry told the woman, using his charm to appease her.

"We are really sorry, Professor Sprout," Fleur told the teacher, wearing an embarrassed smile. "After the Quidditch match, we decided to celebrate."

"Ah, don't apologize, dear. I'm sorry for overreacting. Severus was meant to tell you, so we assumed you would all be here," sighed the professor.

"Well, that confusion aside, why are we here?" asked a confused Cedric. "Dudi told us that they were going to tell us if our wands are fat."

"Oh my, what an ingenious creature," the woman giggled. "It’s not wrong, but it’s not right. This is the Wand Weighing Ceremony, Mister Ollivander came to examine if your wands are working properly. Now hurry up, they're waiting for you."

The group followed the professor’s order, entering the inner courtyard only to stop in surprise. In their defence, they were not expecting to see the Minister along with Marcus, the head of the DMLE, or all the reporters. The four newcomers considered all the paraphernalia excessive, but they guessed it could have been worse. At least a spacious place was chosen and they were not shoved in a classroom or anything similar.

"There they are!" exclaimed a relieved McGonagall.

"We apologize, ma'am. No one told us there was going to be an event relating to the Tournament," Harry informed the woman, making her frown. "We're sorry for making you wait."

"Don't be, Mister Potter, don't be," the woman grumbled, glaring at the Potions professor. "We'll clear up this misunderstanding after this."

"Now that all the champions are here, we can begin!" announced the Headmaster, not giving them time to greet the people that were present.

Harry decided to ignore the man and began greeting the other two champions, the reporters, Ollivander, the three Ministry officials and the school staff, along with the other two headmasters. His friends followed his lead and, for some reason, the other Beauxbatons champion looked sour, glaring at them as if they had insulted her in some way. At last, they greeted Marcus, who smirked at them and signalled a fuming Madam Bones. Something happened and the Minister was angry, which meant that someone was going to pay dearly... Well, at least it would be high-quality entertainment.

"Without further ado, let the Wand Weighing Ceremony begin! Garrick, if you will," Dumbledore told the wandmaker, signalling the now empty podium.

"Of course. Now, how will we begin?" the over-energetic man asked himself. "Oh yes, ladies first! How could I forget?"

Not waiting for the man to call her, the other French champion approached the podium with firm steps and haughty air. She held her wand out and the old man took it, examining it with interest.

"Such an interesting combination, eight and three-quarter inches, unbendable... Vinewood and... Oh my, such an oddity! Dahu horn as the core!" the man commented. "I've never had the pleasure of working with this core in particular. Dahus are quite hard to find and stubborn; the last I met tried to eviscerate me when I asked for a bit of hair... Let’s see, Laminae," the man intoned and flower petals erupted from the tip of the wand. "This one is working perfectly, though I suggest calming down. Vinewood is not the most patient in the face of insecurity," he recommended, giving back the wand to the scowling girl. "Now, Miss Delacour if you will."

Fleur approached the man and smiled at him. The wandmaker reminded her so much of her late grandfather that she couldn't avoid being amused by his antics. She took her wand from her holster and gave it to Ollivander.

"What do we have here? Ah, yes, nine and a half inches... Inflexible... Rosewood and it contains... dear me!" the man exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

"The hair of a Veela, my own grandmother," she explained, smiling at his amusing reaction.

"Such a strong will to control a temperamental wand... Orchideous!" the man said and a bouquet of flowers burst from the tip, which he gave to the girl in front of him. Fleur smiled at the present and curtsied to the man, who returned her wand. "Who will come after the charming Miss Delacour... Mister Bobkov, to the front," the cheery old man said, and the student complied.

"Here," Iwan said, maintaining his stoic expression.

"Well, well, well. An unusual and quite powerful combination... Eleven inches, quite stiff..." the man muttered. His eyes were twinkling while he examined the wand. "Fir, a wood that only those with strong minds are able to wield, and what’s this? So curious! A Lashy hair, voluntarily given, such an oddity! Perfect for healing and abjuration, but also favours charms... Ignis!" the wandmaker exclaimed and sparks erupted from the tip. "Congratulations Mister Bobkov, such a loyal wand."

"Thank you, Mister Ollivander," the male said, but he was unable to hide the way his chest puffed out in pride or how the corners of his mouth threatened to lift.

"Let’s continue with Mister Krum," the beaming old man said. "Oh, this is great! A Gregorovitch creation. Such a shame that Mykew decided to retire."

"Indeed, I was amongst the last ones to purchase a wand from him," Viktor grunted in agreement.

"Mmm... Ten and a quarter inches... Thicker than usual and quite rigid..." the man muttered, frowning at the wand in his hands. "... Ah, hornbeam wood and dragon heartstring. It’s curious how life works; my own wand is made with the same combination... I guess that stubbornness is not an uncommon trait, but yours, young man, is quite devoted to you. Avictus!" he exclaimed, and a few birds were blasted from the wand. "Such a devoted wand, she bit me," the man grumbled, giving back the wand with careful movements.

Ollivander remained silent, frowning at his hand. This lasted until Professor McGonagall lost her patience.

"Mister Diggory, to the front," the woman ordered and the prefect complied.

"Mister Ollivander," Cedric said, breaking whatever trance the man was in while handing him his wand.

"Ah yes, how could I forget yours, Mister Diggory?" the man asked, examining the wand with less intensity than he did those of the other champions. "Twelve and a quarter inches, pleasantly springy. Ashwood and, ah, how can I forget that... The core is the hair from a particularly fine male unicorn, which nearly gored me with its horn after I plucked it from his tail. Never in my life I have run so fast," he muttered, "Lumos!" a sphere of light left the wand and it vanished a second later. "I see that you have strengthened your bond with your wand; she didn't want to respond to me," the man muttered and returned the wand while casting wary glances at Harry’s direction.

"Mister Potter, please, to the front," McGonagall ordered, not willing to allow the man to enter another one of his trances.

Harry walked towards the podium, reaching for his wand, though he wondered why the man looked so nervous of all sudden, searching frantically in his pockets until he found a pair of dragon hide gloves and put them on without wasting a second. From the corner of his eye, he saw how interested Dumbledore seemed to be when he almost ignored the previous champions. However, what annoyed him the most was the gossiping students. It was a simple wand, not the revelation of the answers of the universe.

"Mister Potter," Ollivander said and accepted the wand with reluctance, observing it with distrust shining in his eyes. "I will never forget this wand, perhaps one of my finest creations and the only one that tried to eviscerate me while testing her. My hands had to be bandaged for two weeks," the man grumbled, handling it with wariness. "15 inches, unyielding... Taxus and Sambucus, horned serpent horn and thestral hair, tricky to make... It was hard to get rid of the splinters," the man complained, still frowning at his wand. "The first dual wand in more than half a century, if I am not wrong."

The old man returned Harry his wand with haste, not willing to stretch his luck and try it. Merlin knew that it had been almost fatal to make and he liked his fingers where they were, thank you very much. Murmurs erupted amongst the reporters, the students, and even amongst a few of the teachers. The boy could only sigh at this new development. He didn't need more attention, but life didn't agree with his wishes.

"With this, the Wand Weighing Ceremony is concluded," the Minister announced. Her sharp eyes were enough to ensure all the students left the place, scampering to safety. The woman didn't wait until for the students to leave and glared at the conversing teachers, who took the wise decision of shutting up. "May I know where you were?" she asked the four champions that had arrived late.

"I apologize, Minister Bones, it is entirely my fault," Harry said before any of his friends spoke. "I decided to spend the day in Hogsmeade to celebrate Fleur’s team’s victory in the Quidditch match and my friends followed me. When we were returning an elf told us that we were needed."

"Am I correct to assume you weren't told?" the woman asked, and the boy nodded.

"If I may," Iwan said, earning the attention of Madam Bones. "I was not told either; the only reason I arrived in time is that Professor Flitwick saw me going towards my common room and sent me here instead."

"Very well, who was responsible for informing the champions?" the woman demanded, not giving room for arguments.

"The headmaster assigned Professor Snape and Miss Aguillon was supposed to inform Miss Delacour," Professor Flitwick told the woman.

"We will begin with you, Miss Aguillon. Why didn't you inform your classmates about this event?" the Minister asked the girl, whose eyes widened for a second before composing herself.

"It is not my fault that she always arrives late to the room and leaves when all of us are sleeping," Valerie huffed, her heavy accent made her words hard to understand.

"I always arrive at ten on the dot. Last night you were in the company of Mister Bunt, so I didn't wish to interrupt," Fleur said, using her wide eyes to look innocent while delivering the delicate information. "I leave in the mornings to train. It is not my fault that you consider six to be an ungodly hour."

"Fleur!" Madam Maxime chastised the girl, who ignored the tall woman.

"Aside from that explicit explanation, what is your excuse, Professor Snape?" asked Marcus, winking at his French friend who smirked in return.

"I'm also interested in this answer," McGonagall said.

"Now, now, let’s calm ourselves," Dumbledore told them in an appeasing tone. "Professor Snape is a busy man who not only teaches but also brews the potions for the infirmary. I'm sure it must have slipped his mind."

"Bah, he could have told any of his students to tell the brats or tell them today in the morning or during breakfast," Alastor said, scowling at the Potions teacher.

"If you'll allow me to ask, why did you not announce the event during the week?" Marcus asked the headmaster, who grimaced at the question.

"The students would have flooded the place out of curiosity," Albus admitted.

"What is done is done, but I want to hear Mister Snape’s answer," Amelia ordered.

"I forgot," the man muttered, his eyes narrowing when he admitted his mistake.

"You sure did," Moody snarled at the man.

"Alastor," the Minister warned the Auror, who took a step back. "I hope that this... mistake is recorded on your file," she said, looking at the Transfiguration teacher, who nodded. "Now that this matter is sorted, we can proceed with the interviews. Don't forget that any inappropriate question will have your magazine or newspaper banned from the competition," she warned and most of the reporters didn't waste time to nod.

"Miss Skeeter, you may begin," Marcus told the reporter.

"Thank you, Mister Travers. My first question is for Minister Bones. I know that there have been multiple changes to the tasks, including the security and the arena. How are the preparations going?"

"It has been complicated, especially because the organizers left such a mess to be sorted," Madam Bones sighed, "Mister Travers has been essential to me. Thanks to his help, we will be able to have everything done in time." The woman signalled another reporter after she answered.

"This is Jean Dubois for the Nouvelles Magiques," the man said. "Magical Britain is under the scrutiny of the whole world after the scandal of Mister Dumbledore. How has this affected the competition? What security measures will be taken to prevent another attack by your Dark Lord?"

"I won't deny that Headmaster Dumbledore’s mistakes have been a hard hit for the whole country," Marcus began, "however, Minister Bones has worked without respite and her efforts are bearing fruits. The tasks have changed and I have no doubt that they will present a decent challenge for the six champions."

"I'm in charge of the security and that’s all you need to know," Moody told the reporter.

"Auror Moody is excellent at his job, one of the best Aurors the DMLE has ever had," Marcus explained, softening the harsh response of the man.

"Yes, his reputation has reached France and beyond," the reporter agreed, apparently not taking offence at Moody’s brusque ways. The Minister signalled another reporter.

"This is Veronica Hudson for Witch Weekly. We all know that Mister Potter’s entrance was irregular; has the culprit been caught? My other question is for Mister Potter: How does it feel to be the youngest of all the champions?"

"I'm leading the investigation and we haven't found any trace. Whoever did this knows about the procedures of the DMLE, but I will find the coward," Moody snapped.

"It’s quite intimidating to be the youngest," Harry said before the Auror got angry and cursed a few reporters. "It’s obvious that I have less experience than others, but I will do my best."

"If I may," Professor Flitwick said, "Mister Potter is perhaps the brightest student that has graced this school. His wand work is nothing less than astounding and his magical core is quite developed for his age."

"Besides, he is not alone," Fleur said, smiling at the reporters and more than one person blushed.

"In this short time, we have managed to become close friends," Viktor agreed.

"And we will support him through this," Cedric said and the reporters started whispering to each other.

"This is Vjera Kozlov, for Magicheski Dnes. Do you think your friendship will be able to survive the competition?"

"Miss Kozlov, you seem to forget what the purpose of the Triwizard Tournament is," Harry scolded the female, wearing a charming smile that made the woman’s cheeks acquire a pink hue. "It’s meant to improve the fraternization between schools. This competition will end, but the friendships that are formed will remain."

"Mister Potter! This is Philip Anderson for The Prophet!" yelled a reporter without been given the signal to ask, "We all know about your scandal regarding the... shady emancipation. How will this affect the Potter family? What are your plans as a legal adult?"

"That has nothing to do with the Tournament; this is your first and last warning, reporter Anderson," Madam Bones warned the man, who was about to protest but one glare from the woman had him cowering enough to remain silent. "Mister Potter, you are not forced to answer."

"Thank you, Minister Bones," Harry told the woman. For a moment he considered answering, but not to this reporter. Maybe he would give Rita an exclusive.

"I have a question for the six champions," Skeeter said after Madam Bones gave her the signal to speak. "The Triwizard Tournament was meant to be for three champions. How do the competitors feel about this change?"

"It is good that more champions were chosen because many others don't fit the criteria," said Valerie, sneering at her fellow competitors.

"I think I speak for all when I say that we were surprised," Fleur began explaining, ignoring the other girl’s words with ease. "No one was expecting this development. However, I believe it will be beneficial to promote healthy competition between the schools."

"Though the name no longer fits for six wizards will be competing," Iwan added, keeping his tone even and controlling his breath. As stoic as the boy was, his tense shoulders still revealed his nervousness.

"I agree with Iwan; it’s unfair for the other champions to keep calling it that," Cedric agreed, smiling at the male.

"This question is for Minister Bones," one of the reporters whose name was forgotten asked. "Will the champions be allowed to receive help from the professors or other external sources?"

"All the staff in the school will be allowed to help in their preparation, minus the three headmasters," Amelia said, looking at the three of them with murder in her eyes. "They were quite... adamant, we could say, in getting information about the tasks. Nevertheless, for security reasons, they will not have all the details about them, only a general idea about what they entail. The professors, on the other hand, have no idea about what the tasks convey and are allowed to help the champions that request their aid."

"If I may add," Marcus said, looking at the Minister for permission and receiving a nod in response. "Every single person who is involved in the planning signed a non-disclosure agreement. We have exerted all our efforts and resources to ensure the safety of the participants, spectators, and judges."

"I recently spoke with the manager of Mirror Summons for an interview about the innovative uses of the communication mirrors," Rita said, "it’s well known that the last Minister spent a rather large sum on one of their new devices. Will they be used for this competition?"

"It’s good that you brought up this theme, Miss Skeeter," Amelia told the woman, smiling at the reporters. "The owner of the company has agreed to share one of the greatest inventions in the magical world. All the mirrors in the arena will capture the task and reflect them in other mirrors that will be placed in the restaurants and cafés in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. That way, the citizens will be able to observe the tasks as if they were present," she announced, surprising many with the announcement. "The fees will vary, but the beginning price for entrance is one Galleon, though the Ministry workers will get two free tickets. Everyone will be able to purchase a seat in the different establishments a week before the tournament begins."

"In the arena, there will also be a stand for the citizens," Marcus continued the explanation after Amelia nodded at him. "However, they will have to purchase tickets from the Auror office in the Ministry after filling out a few forms. We're being cautious with the security for obvious reasons so, please, be understanding. The price for these tickets will vary depending on the seat you select, but the basic price is ten Galleons."

"The owner of Mirror Summons is lending his services without any charge, as the owners of the restaurants and cafés. All the money that is collected will be used for all the students in need. Hogwarts is an expensive institution and they wish to help those families of scarce resources. Therefore, they asked me to use the Tournament as a way to announce it."

"Such a generous person!" Rita exclaimed, raising her hand to earn the attention of the Minister. "I know this has nothing to do with the competition, but I need to ask how the families who lack economic resources will be able to access these funds."

"They only need to request the forms from the bank two months before school begins. In it, they will have to submit their annual income and how many children they have. Not many families have more than two children, but for the ones that do, they will automatically qualify and the tuition for all their remaining children will be paid. Their school materials and uniform are included in this. Also, students with exceptional grades will be granted scholarships and apprenticeships," Madam Bones explained. While she spoke, her anger seemed to vanish. How curious, the woman was indeed a Hufflepuff at heart.

"Yeah, yeah, all is fine and dandy," Moody grumbled, "When will we finish this thing? There are people who actually have to work here."

"Auror Moody is right," Professor McGonagall announced, reminding those present of the other people’s presence. "Our champions need to rest."

"If any of you wants to interview them, you will have to send a formal request with all the questions and we will decide if it’s appropriate," the Minister said, putting an end to the interview. "We'll escort you towards Hogsmeade. Have a good day."

With those words, the Minister began walking towards the entrance, followed by Moody and Marcus. The latter gestured at them to let them know that he would visit after finishing his work for the day.

"I will go before they leave me behind! Madam Bones is quite a temperamental woman," chirped the forgotten Ollivander, walking out with a spring in his step.

"Miss Aguillon, before you leave," Professor Flitwick said, not needing to raise his voice to stop the girl, who turned around with caution. "Ten points from Ravenclaw for your irresponsibility. This time we will stick with point deduction, but if there is a next time, you will face detention. Don't forget that you are a student of this school, even if it’s for a short time," the man told the girl, who nodded with reluctance and left the courtyard with hurried steps.

"Well, what do we do now?" asked Cedric when all the teachers began leaving.

"We can have a duelling match," Fleur suggested. "Iwan, do want to join us?" she asked the boy who somehow always managed to blend with their surroundings.

"No, thank you," was the boy’s hurried answer. "I have seen Viktor dying after those practices of yours. I would rather spend the evening with a book."

"You don't know how much I envy your good sense," Viktor told his classmate, looking solemn.

"Shut it," Fleur huffed, managing to drag the tall boy with her, against all physical laws. "You have no complaints, right?" the girl asked Cedric, who denied as fast as he could.

"And that’s my life," Harry sighed, smiling slightly. "Anyways, if you want to join us for training, you just have to ask. The same invitation will be extended to Valerie, so if you catch her, please tell her, though I will throw her out the moment she antagonizes Fleur. Enjoy your evening," the young male said and followed his bickering friends, who were supposed to be the adults.

Iwan remained standing, looking at the small group with amusement. While he was a loner by nature, he missed his friends. None of them had been able to classify in order to compete, but he didn't regret his decision to come. He met interesting people and the lifestyle at Hogwarts was better than at Durmstrang, not to mention that his eyes were set on a beauteous blonde girl. Yes, life was good.