The six champions entered a surprisingly well-built place. Considering the Potter elves only began helping two weeks ago and, according to Marcus, the place was deserted, the most the group was expecting was a tent and crude wood stands. But of course, that was not possible. What self-respecting country would receive international guests in such a crude space? The mere notion of something similar happening was ridiculous.

After a few minutes of walking through corridors, the champions arrived at a bare room where Aurors were waiting.

"We apologize for this, but each of you will be examined by an Auror and a healer for different reasons," Professor Munter explained. "We have to ensure there are no impostors and that none of the champions is under the influence of any kind of spell or potion."

To give an example, both teachers were examined with different spells and passed through what resembled a wall made out of water, though neither was wet. Following the teachers, the six students were meticulously examined by the experts. When they were cleared, they were allowed through a hidden door in the room that led them to another hallway.

"The organizers insisted on having these security measures," one of the teachers commented.

"I find them intrusive," muttered Iwan.

"Be as it may, it's a necessary hassle," Professor Kowalski answered. "High profile people will act as judges, not to mention there are other important guests. Every single person that wished to enter the arena submitted to the examination, including the judges and guests."

The conversation died there and no one was willing to begin talking. At last, they entered a spacious room that was decorated by a large sitting area, where an old man was waiting.

"Tiberius, it's good to see you after all this time!" Professor Munter greeted.

"Benedict, my old friend, age doesn't go through you!" complimented the merry man.

"Let me introduce you to Professor Isabelle Kowalski. Isabelle, this is Tiberius Ogden, a member of the Wizengamot."

"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman," Tiberius told the woman as a greeting, earning a glacial stare as an answer.

"Good morning sir," was the woman's formal answer. "These are my students, though it would be a waste of time to repeat their names when the newspapers do that every single day."

"Um, yes," the man commented, uncomfortable by the young woman's aloof demeanour.

"Why are you here?" asked a still jolly Professor Munter.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I am the commentator for this task!" the man announced, puffing his chest in pride. "Gather around. I'll be explaining the rules," he said to the champions, not waiting for them to gather and began to speak. "Due to, ehm, different circumstances, you have a general idea of what the task involves. However, I will explain it nonetheless. All the disciplines taught at school will be tested through an obstacle course. While it isn't measured by time, finishing it early will grant you extra points. There is an object that you must retrieve and, while it may give you a bonus, you don't need it to finish the task. The use of a wand is allowed, though no other magical artefacts are permitted, but don't forget that a wand isn't the best weapon that a magical possesses. Now, you all have to take a piece of parchment from this box," the man announced, producing a box from heaven knows where. "Ladies first," he offered gallantly, and Valerie was the first one to approach the man.

"Of course," Fleur said, trying to contain her impish smile. "Viktor, if you would."

"Please, I am not a Lady," the male huffed, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "If anything, I am a queen - don't demote me," he said with exaggerated hand gestures and a sassy hair flip that made the girl giggle.

This simple exchange made even the phlegmatic Professor Kowalski smile, though Mister Ogden looked quite surprised and a tad uncomfortable by it. The man composed himself and offered the box to each person until it was empty and all the champions reviewed the contents of their parchment.

"This task will be a sort of race between two champions," Mister Ogden said once everyone had seen their parchments. "You will compete against the person that has the number that follows yours, so numbers one and two, raise your hands." Cedric and Viktor raised their hands and then high-fived, surprising the man once again. "You two will go first, number three and four, you will go second," Fleur and Iwan raised their hands and looked at each other, the girl hitting her partner's arm playfully. "That leaves five and six, who will go last."

Valerie did not look impressed and Harry returned the feeling. While the girl was an unknown element, he doubted she was able to surprise him with her magical ability. Therefore, the girl was not a challenge, but then again, few were able to classify as such.

"You see this white line, right?" the old man asked, pointing the obvious line against the dark floor. "From here to the door you entered from is silenced, but from here to that door you will be able to listen to everything. You have to decide where you wish to be. The teachers will guide you towards the changing rooms, where you can leave anything you brought with you. They will also help you to link the crystals and explain a few details. Now, it's time for me to go. A bell will chime when it's time for a group to enter the arena. Good luck!"

The man was kind enough not to comment Valerie was the only one to carry a duffel bag or her attire, which was different from what the other champions were wearing. Harry took a seat in the closest chair, an example the others in the room followed.

"You're too calm, Harry," Professor Munter commented while approaching a table in the corner of the room, where a plain wooden chest lay.

"The worst that will happen is not being able to finish the task," the boy shrugged.

"That and the national humiliation," Cedric added with a groan.

"Considering that the whole school already talks about me, I don't think much will change," was Harry's lackadaisical answer.

"I doubt that anything they can think of rivals what Professor Flitwick considers training," muttered a grimacing Viktor.

"You went through Filius' training?" asked a surprised teacher, receiving five dejected nods.

"I made the mistake of joining them out of curiosity," Iwan sighed, emulating the personification of misery. "I regret every second."

"If you survived that, then you'll complete this," said Professor Kowalski with a chuckle. "After all, Professor Flitwick wasn't an international duelling champion for nothing, especially when you consider that he kept the title for more than thirty years or that he survived three wars. That man has more combat experience than most could ever hope to learn."

"That's true," Harry agreed, "but that doesn't mean that we have to enjoy the pain his training brings."

"We will explain this quick," said Professor Munter, interrupting the conversation. "I know you all heard of the company Mirror Summons. They launched this new product," the man explained, opening the box and showing its contents. "These crystals will follow you around from the moment we activate them to the moment the scores are given."

"They will project your image to their projection mirrors," the woman continued, "so that all the public is able to see what's happening from their places. Mister Diggory, Mister Krum, come here," she ordered, taking out a crystal with each hand. "I want each of you to cast a simple wingardium leviosa and hold the spell for a whole minute so it identifies your magical signature."

The students looked at each other but did not comment on the strange request, mainly because Harry had given them a detailed and headache-inducing explanation on how the things worked. Both cast the spell at the same time. When the minute was almost over, the crystals turned iridescent and floated near them.

"Excellent, now you are ready," the woman congratulated.

"You will all do this when your turn arrives," Professor Munter told his students.

Before anyone could retort, a bell chimed. Cedric blanched at the sound, but Viktor helped the prefect to remain steady. Professor Munter placed a comforting hand on their shoulders and guided them towards the door that led to the arena.

Harry only watched as Valerie paced in the area that was not silenced and tensed up with every sound she heard. In his opinion, that strategy was not the smartest or the most logical. The incertitude would only put her on edge, which would result in the girl being stressed before even competing, a thing that would not allow her mind to remain clear. A poor tactic indeed, but she was grown enough to make her own decision and live with the consequences. Thus, he decided to ignore her and focused instead on a book he produced from his pocket. The boy proceeded to ignore the people in the room in favour of the interesting tome.

"Mister Potter, prepare yourself," Professor Kowalski told him, breaking his book-induced trance.

The only reaction the teenager showed was a slow blink when he noticed that the only champions left were him and the French girl. Casting a longing glance at his book, he closed it and put it in his pocket once again. He ignored the amused smile that the teacher was giving him and did not question the absence of her co-worker, though he took pity on the nervous girl, who was sitting close to the door and had apparently changed clothes while he was reading.

"Being there isn't doing you any favours," he said, surprising her.

"At least I have an idea of what will happen," she snapped, scowling at him.

"I'm sure you do, but we can also thank Madam Maxime for that, don't we?" he said with faux gentleness, annoyed at her uncouth response. That is what he got for trying to help; it was good to be reminded that kindness was not always the best policy. Harry decided to ignore his fellow champion, not willing to tolerate her attitude.

"Here are the crystals, you know what to do," he professor told them.

Without any hesitation, Harry cast a silent wingardium leviosa on it. The boy was so lost in his own thoughts that he did not notice when his crystal changed colour much sooner than those of the other champions... That didn't mean that the others didn't. In fact, they were unable to look away from the light spectacle that ensued. When the bell chimed a few minutes later, he followed the teacher at a steady pace while ignoring the glares he was receiving from Valerie. They arrived at the end of a hallway, where they ascended the stairs. Blinding sunlight hit the group when they entered the arena, along with thunderous applause that made their ears ring.

"The commentator will be explaining what you have to do," Professor Kowalski told her students. "I'm sure that both of you are able to complete this so there is no need for me to worry. Even so, good luck," the woman said and went back towards the stairs, leaving the champions alone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, here we have the last champions!" Mister Ogden announced with obvious excitement. "Allow me to introduce you to the French delegation’s champion, Miss Valerie Aguillon! And the Court’s champion, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived! Now, I know you've heard this before, but we need to explain the rules. Champions, you have to overcome different obstacles to retrieve the golden sphere from the clutches of a dangerous creature. It contains information about the next task, so it will give you an advantage over your competition! I will remind the crowd that the silencing wards will be reactivated for the champions' benefit. Now, without further ado, the champions can begin when the horn sounds!"

Instead of paying attention to the man's speech, Harry analyzed his surroundings in an effort to find any clues. However, his efforts were not rewarded because their sight of the arena was blocked thanks to a low hill. The deafening sound of a horn brought him out of his reverie and the task began. For a second, he considered walking at a leisurely pace in order to annoy the people, but then he remembered that a good book was waiting for him and discarded the idea with a despondent sigh. The prospect of actually putting the slightest amount of effort in aggravated the teenager, though he ran uphill without complaints... or at least not loud ones.

The boy was expecting different things for the task, but a chasm that separated the arena as the first hurdle was not one of them. Curiosity won over him and Harry decided to take a look at what it contained and regretted that decision immediately, for he had to control his revulsion at the sight. Death Worms. The abyss was filled with bloody death worms, which meant that falling was not an option. The mere idea of being surrounded by those things made him shiver in repugnance. What could he do then? Transfiguration was a valid option, though he would need to destroy parts of the arena to have enough rocks and Marcus would complain too much so the idea was discarded. He could charm a rock to transport him... or show a particular trick that would make Professor Flitwick proud. So the latter it was.

Augmentation magic was indeed an interesting, if a tad brutal, discipline. Enhancing the body with magic made possible great feats that most believed to be unachievable. Flitwick began teaching him this particular art a few months ago and, while it was not his favourite because it had a hefty price on the body, he could see the advantages that it brought.

Without wasting more time, though this decision had only taken him a few seconds, Harry walked back a few meters and then ran to the chasm, jumping at the last moment. The second that his feet left the earth, he cast a cushioning charm where he would land and slowed his descent with well-timed depulsos. This only lasted a few seconds and the transition was so swift that in the eyes of the public, the boy managed to fly. The crowd was frantic with excitement and the judges were whispering amongst each other, trying to identify the technique that the youngest champion had used. Not that the boy noticed the reaction he just caused, for he was concentrating on the next hurdle.

A basic obstacle course was the next part of the task, one that he was curious to try. However, Harry stopped when he noticed something drawn on the floor and crouched to analyze it. Much to his surprise, he noticed that runes were etched into the stone. 'Younger Futhark runic alphabet, a basic array. Nauðr, which contains and constrains. Sól and Maðr that represent magic and continuity together. Ísa, the only one that is able to block those two," he thought, analyzing the drawings with an amused smirk. The runes were meant to prevent magic being used by containing it in the body, a quite brilliant tactic of which he began thinking uses for in the future, though he hoped no one panicked when their spells did not work. Now, what to do? He could always destroy them, but that could destabilize the whole array by damaging the runes that may be hidden, so it was better left untouched because Harry was not willing to search for more runes and he did not fancy the idea of physical harm. Shrugging, he continued on his way while placing his wand in its holster, paying more attention to his surroundings.

Before approaching the beginning of the obstacle course, which resembled a large version of monkey bars, much to his amusement, he decided to examine the floor since it rippled in a curious way. 'Does Madam Bones have a fixation for deep places?' Harry thought when he noticed the whole obstacle course was built over a profound pool that contained an unidentified liquid instead of the normal stone ground that he was standing on.

He was tempted to get closer to it, but the stench made him rethink that decision. How could he not recognize it when it was such a basic potion, at least by Aunt Eleadora's standards? Dysodis pagos, also called foul ice, a gelatine-like substance that was characterized by its nauseating odour and entrapping whatever entered it. Not to mention that its main property was hardening around anything that it caught with the purpose of freezing it. Falling in was definitely not an option because, while it would not be painful, the putrid smell would take days to wash off and there was no other route to go over the thing. Satisfied with his analysis, he began the obstacle course.

The monkey bars could not even be considered a hurdle and it was passed in a short time, a feat that surprised the crowd. Then there were swing-like objects that glided over the surface of the pool. They were not hard to cross, though he did not enjoy moving from one unstable surface to the other. This was also done in no time, though the next obstacle put a halt to his steps. Beams that were too thin to be walked over but thick enough to hang onto, the problem being how close the things were to the surface of the nauseating gelatine. Harry crossed the obstacle as fast as he could, thinking of how a troll smelled better than the potion, though he wondered who was the poor soul forced to brew so much of it, sending his condolences to the person's olfactory ability.

The next thing that obstructed his path was a wide and quite steep slide. Perhaps Madam Bones and Marcus found inspiration in a Muggle park, though they had twisted the playground in quite a bizarre way.

Without wasting more time on his thoughts, Harry ran up and promptly slid down. With a frown, he noticed the surface of the thing offered almost no friction, which complicated the task. What to do if he couldn't project his magic? Harry almost smirked at the preposterous notion. He guessed that no professor expected a single champion to be apt at wandless magic, though the way he used magic could hardly count as such. Feeling his core thrumming, he centred his magic on his hands, in specific on the fingers... 'Fleur must have enjoyed this so much,' thought the boy, amused at what reactions the judges may have had when the girl scratched her way up. His fingertips broke the surface of the slide as if it was made of butter, yet the champion scowled the whole way up. Harry swore to himself that, if his nails were somehow ruined, Marcus would have hell to pay.

His annoyance increased when potent jets of water began attacking him from all sides. Harry thanked his foresight by asking for waterproof clothes, though nothing from his chin up was saved. Once he finished the thing, he tried to get rid of the excess of water with his hand and hoped his sunscreen was not washed off. Heaven help Marcus if he got sunburnt. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated on the next problem. His eye began twitching at the sight of it and for a good reason.

In the judges’ box, Marcus felt a gelid shiver slithering along his spine that same moment.

Of course, they could not have brought a sphinx or acromantula. No, they had to bring an ogre and adapt a part of the arena to look like its home. Harry clenched his jaw in disgust at the horrid creature and was about to blast its head off when he heard a high-pitched scream... How curious, he forgot about his competition.

He looked back and noticed Valerie was on the monkey bars, her legs stuck on the gelatine. Now, this was entertaining. What should he do? Allowing the girl to remain there was almost as tempting as going back and pushing her off himself, though he was sure that Madam Bones had people ready to take out the girl when the gelatine got too cold or if she gave up, which was a shame in his opinion. The world could do with fewer annoying scoundrels. As tempting as those thoughts were, Harry had an image to protect. With a heavy sigh, he went down the slide and landed in an almost lazy crouch. He crossed all the obstacles until he arrived at the monkey bars, where the girl was clinging to for dear life.

"Give me your hand," he ordered, having no patience to use his usual polite facade.

"Why should I?!" she shrieked, annoying Harry further with her impertinence and the unnecessary decibels of volume.

"If you want to remain here, be my guest."

"Wait!" Valerie yelled before he could turn to leave. "Help me," she muttered, her cheeks flaming a fiery red.

If Harry was a weaker person, he would have made the girl beg for the much-needed help. Well, being honest, he would have done that regardless. However, today he was not in the mood of playing games and his limited patience was almost depleted. Wasting no time, he grabbed her arm with unnecessary force and pulled her up. He brought the girl's body closer to him in order to yank her completely out of the gelatine, ignoring her protests. The boy had to clench his teeth at the effort he was putting into lifting the girl and helping her to sit on top of the bars.

"You're heavy," he commented and left before she could respond.

While Harry crossed the obstacles once again, he pondered what had just happened. 'Is Valerie really heavy?' This was the unconventional question that plagued the young champion's mind, for the girl did not look heavy. Yet, if she was not heavy, by definition he was weak. This conclusion did not please him at all and he tried to dismiss it as inconsequential, but his brain did not agree with him and focused on the matter.

For years, he trained his body, though his goal was endurance rather than strength. He tried to think of scenarios where brute force without magic would be able to protect the ones close to his heart and, much to his dismay, more situations than he was comfortable with bombarded his mind... Therefore, his training would be upped to a much harsher one. Although, he guessed few of his friends would appreciate the decision.

His hair got soaked once again while climbing the slide, though he noticed something he had somehow missed the last time. There were runic arrays etched into the floor at the top of the obstacle, which meant he could use his wand again, much to the oblivious ogre's good luck. The creatures were extremely territorial, and could be dangerous if someone invaded what they considered their home. Their weakness was that they were easy to distract and the creature would ignore him in favour of threats that were more conspicuous. The boy dried his hair with a silent spell and transfigured the pebbles that surrounded the creature into shiny objects. As a precaution, he blasted a piece of rock and transfigured it into a donkey, charming it to move around. The ogre was too distracted collecting pebbles to notice the transfigured animal, but Harry believed that prevention was the best course of action.

The boy thought of different ways of crossing the swamp without dirtying himself and also saving his elves the task of cleaning his boots. He would never abuse his loyal workers in such a way. What kind of horrid human being made elves clean boots covered in mud and whatever else was mixed with it? No, that was not an option. He could use augmentation magic again, but he would rather not use it for prolonged periods of time. As he looked to the side, an idea came to his mind.

A simple obhaeresco charm to his shoes, along with a silent stabilis, and the boy walked up the wall as if gravity was a lame joke. The boy used the wall to cross the swamp without the ogre noticing his presence... It could also be that the creature was entertained by the singing donkey, threatening it. Curious, as he only remembered charming the thing to speak.

The obstacle proved to be easy for him and he relaxed slightly. As Harry walked, he was suddenly stopped when an earthquake began shaking the arena and a mountain seemed to form before him. For a few moments, the boy considered climbing it, until he noticed all the runes that were etched on the surface and he decided for the other course of action. In front of him, a door-like stone was formed, but instead of being plain rock, it was carved with strange figures. Out of curiosity, Harry decided to touch it after casting a few diagnosis charms on it. With careful movements, he traced the outlines of a figure and noticed that it moved.

Intrigued by the puzzle and his patience restored, Harry began moving the pieces to find the pattern. After a few minutes, he found the solution and took a few seconds to admire it. In the centre of the door, the image of a mermaid was etched, but that was not the curious part. The breath-taking mermaid was sitting on a rock and under her was another one, though it was showing its true face under the surface of the water... What captured his attention the most was the bronze key that materialized from the door. Unable to contain his curiosity, he grabbed it and the door was opened.

The dark space was lit by dozens of torches that did the bare minimum to illuminate the place. The dim room resembled a disorganized - or more like vandalized - library, with different messages etched on the walls and books. He took another step to analyze the place and a message formed in front of him.

"Copper and tin are what you need, but pay no heed. Brass makes the key, though water and air may also be. While iron and carbon make the door, or at least that is what we were told. Look around and find the lies, close your eyes, and the truth may rise."

Harry read the puzzle and his eyes acquired a strange glint as his heart began to pound on his chest, making his heartbeat the background music... How much had he missed this! The challenge, actually making his brain work! Ah, he thanked his good sense for never leaving his Muggle Studies aside, which made the riddle far too easy. However, what made his blood boil in anticipation was not the enigma, but the sensation of forgotten knowledge tickling his mind. What his prodigious brain had forgotten, he did not know, but although the sensation was not welcomed, the reminder that he had many hurdles to cross despite his talent and intellect ignited that competitive fire that had almost extinguished.

The boy smirked at the message and walked towards the end of the room without even bothering to look around. The bronze key remained in his hand.

With almost a lazy gesture, Harry placed the key on the steel lectern that had a hollow in the middle, where the bronze key fitted perfectly. 'Seriously, the answer is in the riddle,' the boy thought to himself as the wall opened, revealing another dark room... He took a few careful steps, having his wand ready, when a wall of fire erupted from the ground, stopping him in his tracks, but not before he cast a shielding charm. The fire glowed a bright blue and its heat could almost be felt. It was no Fiendfyre, but neither was it a normal flame.

A table rose from the ground and Harry approached it after casting his diagnosis charms. Across it were what looked like a multitude of vials in no apparent order, but the boy ignored the potions and cast another diagnosis charm on the fire. Yes, it was the stygius flamma, also known as the infernal flame. Not quite a curse, but close enough. The only potion that could protect you against it was the Umor Niflheim, a potion that could be identified by its pearly white appearance and for being almost gelid to the touch. With a glance, he identified the only potion that qualified as what he was looking for and was immediately disappointed. The vial did not have the seal of guarantee, which meant it was not brewed by a professional and it was not safe for consumption.

Harry let go of the bottle with a heavy sigh, the crystal shattered on the ground and its contents were spilt, further proof that it was not apt for consumption. After all, what kind of moron used breakable vials? Not pondering it any further, the boy did the next best thing. Taking a deep breath, he pointed his wand to the fire and sizzling noises filled the room along with warm vapour. Water, being the superior element against fire, encased the borders from where it was originating, succeeding in neutralizing the threat.

He walked through the now empty space but decided to leave the charm on until he was a safe distance away from it. Blinking a few times to adapt his eyes to the brightness of the midday sun, he dropped the aguamenti and the fire resurfaced with vengeance. With a shrug, he kept walking.

The boy's eye twitched when he noticed the titanic wall blocking his path. No longer was he in the mood to climb, despite his gloves protecting his precious fingers. He considered that he had abused them enough for the day by using them as shovels. While he could formulate another plan, his patience was non-existent and he took the logical decision. Pointing his wand at the wall, he cast a protective shield around him and blasted it with an overpowered reducto.

A massive explosion shook the area. The crowd was either shouting at each other or at the Aurors to help the 'poor boy', looking at the mirrors in horror, or contemplating the dust cloud that was dissipating little by little in silenced shock. The judges were frantic, not knowing what the boy had done to cause such vast destruction and, more importantly, to know if the boy was harmed in any way. A tense minute went by as the dust settled, gasps echoing among the public when they noticed the young champion walking towards the golden sphere, unharmed. Roaring applause filled the stands and the shouts were loud enough to make their ears hurt, but no one could stop cheering.

Harry walked through the hole he created in the wall. He eyed the wall and admitted being surprised... It had somehow given way to his spell, even when it was not fully powered. Curiosity began to gnaw at his mind and he wanted to know what the limit of his power was, though, that was something he was not willing to experiment with until he was in a safe place, preferably without witnesses. Now that the idea crossed his mind, it was a solid task in his to-do list. The golden sphere lay on a pedestal and he was about to take it when a familiar person hugged him. While he did not tense, his eyes narrowed at the contact.

The boy returned the hug with the usual tenderness he treated his sister with, though his mind was working overdrive to understand the situation. Harry knew Elizabeth was not here. Whatever this was, they could not emulate his sister's warm magic or the exact pressure that she used while hugging. He concentrated on his mental shields and noticed a slight disturbance, but that information was not enough to eject the subtle intrusion. It seemed he would need to practice his Occlumency because this was pathetic.

This creature was not his Elizabeth; nevertheless, as long as it assumed her shape, he was unable to harm it. Raising his hand, he caressed her cheek with all the gentleness he could muster; the same way he touched her. Harry may have learnt a plethora of spells and magic theory, yet his knowledge was a measly drop compared to the ocean of information that existed. He was the first one to admit that his magical knowledge was basic. However, this did not mean that his use of magic was restricted. He and his magic were one - they aided each other and he needed no spell for her to act as he wished.

With this in mind, he willed the creature to reveal itself. The strange thing's eyes glazed over as its body rippled. Elizabeth was replaced by a hideous thing that the boy could remember a book describing, though he did not dwell on that thought.

Harry Potter was angry at the thing for daring to impersonate his sister. Without consideration of his surroundings or public, he cursed the thing. It wailed as it disintegrated and only cinders remained, which were carried away by the gentle breeze. This brutal show of raw power lasted brief seconds, yet it was enough to shock the crowd into silence. The teenager grabbed the sphere and sauntered towards the door that was marked as an exit.

The public remained silent for a few moments before erupting into deafening cheers, forgetting about the last champion.

The tumultuous excitement that possessed the crowd was not shared by everyone.

The judges' box was submerged in silence for they did not know how to react. Should they join the ovation and forget that the youngest champion had managed to eliminate a non-being, something that had been considered impossible from the beginning of times. Should they send the Aurors to examine his wand to see if he had used dark magic? None of the judges had any answers, and neither were they able to hide the awe the last Potter had caused.

In the box of the champions' families, Sirius Black was in a similar state of confusion. 'What did Harry do?' This was the question that invaded the man's mind, but for different reasons than expected. He was a Black, which meant he knew dark magic through and through... However, whatever Harry Potter had used was different. Sirius knew that his godson did not believe in being an exclusive user of light magic and had no problems in delving into the dark arts; yet, the man knew that Harry was not bewitched by it. The boy saw magic as something neutral, but that did not mean that everyone agreed with his ideology. Unlike what many would expect, the man began planning ways to protect his child in case the feat of magic he had shown condemned him in the eyes of the public.

While the students were cheering in their seats, Albus Dumbledore was as pale as a ghost, gripping his wand to the point his fingers had gone numb. For a few moments, the headmaster had been able to see a handsome and charming young man smiling at an innocent, who was wailing at his feet while feeling the effects of a crucio. For a few moments, he saw Tom Riddle pale at the new threat of the Wizarding World. Harry Potter had the potential of becoming the worst nightmare of the magical people and, yet, he was their only hope... But Albus had already made a mistake by judging the youngster. Where had that taken him? Nowhere, that is. He had managed to alienate the boy-who-lived, to the point he would never become the mentor he had hoped to be. The mentor that the boy needed in order to remain in the light.

No, he wouldn't judge the child again. It did not matter that said child used methods he did not approve of. He would close his eyes and ignore reality, and when everything exploded in his face, he would feign ignorance... After all, that is what he did best.