Chapter Text
‘’Let’s have a drink. I have a good feeling about tonight,’’ Sirius grinned.
“Shhh, don’t even breathe that word lest you jinx the night,” James sank deeper into his comfy chair, trying to mask his nerves. “I’m waiting for good news from Harry.’’
Lily narrowed her eyes. “Is there something you want to tell me now, James Fleamont Potter?”
James gulped. Whenever Lily used his full name, it never boded well for him.
“Well, you know that our son put his name into the Goblet of Fire.”
“Which is by the way a very dangerous tournament considering the death rate.” She aimed a dagger-like glare at him. “How could you be happy with your son taking part in this death trap?”
James swallowed the knot in his throat and refused to meet Lily’s eyes. Obviously, he hid the reason behind Harry’s interest in the Triwizard Tournament from his tempestuous wife. Had she known, she would’ve surely barged into Dumbledore’s office and strangled him with his beard no less. For that, he remained in the shadows waiting until a new Samhain that brought more unsavoury news was upon them.
“Er—Maybe I should leave you to have a private talk with your wife, Prongs,’’ Sirius—ever the traitor, said with an uncharacteristic small voice. He jolted to his feet, his hand going hastily to grab his leather biker jacket. ‘’I don’t want to interfere in your—‘’
‘’Sit down!’’ James glared at his best friend. Sirius brought his hands up in defeat and went back to his seat. “I’m just being considerate.”
“Sit down!” Lily hissed. “You’ll have your turn next.” James glanced at his Blood Brother and snorted. The man had gone pale. Good. Lily had scared him and he’d gotten her off the subject of keeping things from her. That was all he needed until he received news from Harry—or so he thought until her gaze clashed with him again, narrowing, her jaw rippling as if she was grinding her teeth. She was seething.
Good Godric...
“You may not elude the noose tonight, mate,” Sirius smiled devilishly at his expression then sobered when he received a side look from Lily.
“Explain,” Lily’s shoulders slumped in defeat, her gaze turning dull. She crossed her arms across her chest in a feeble attempt to hide her fear. James sighed and took her into his arms. He could hear her heart thumping wildly against his chest. Tenderly, he kissed the top of her head. “I knew that something was remiss when Harry decided all of a sudden to participate. I know my son. He has no interest whatsoever in fame or money. You’re stupider than I thought if you believed I didn’t have my warranted suspicions. He’s after something. Something that’s undoubtedly threatening Henry’s safety.”
Sirius laughed darkly. “No wonder James fell in love with you at first sight. You’re indeed the brightest witch of your age, Lils.”
“Both of you need to brush up with your brains,” Lily scoffed. “I’m not being overly smart. I am a mother who knows her son and cares about his wellbeing.”
James helped her back to her seat and draped a protective arm around her shoulders. “There’s an intruder in Hogwarts. One who’s been patently sent by Voldemort. Harry and his friends have been after him since the year started. He might lead us to his master.”
Lily frowned. “Is that why he wants to compete? He suspects that someone is going to put Henry’s name—“ Her voice trailed off when a light so bright came into the room it almost blinded them. It was Harry’s giant Griffin.
The three Wixen rose in unison to their feet and apparated at once.
Henry’s throat tightened. He hated being the centre of attention, hated being the Boy Who Lived with an undying passion.
Did Wizarding Britain think that the inconsequential detail that he survived while his grandfather died mattered to him? He scoffed at that. He couldn’t fathom how a day every Potter considered a source of pain and grief became a celebration.
Wizarding Britain lost a great man that night. That alone was reason enough to respect the Potters’ privacy and just…let them be…let him be Henry; just Henry: a young wizard still struggling to find his place in the world.
It seemed that every Samhain since he stepped into Hogwarts became the bringer of bad news.
He raked Moody with a repugnant glare wishing there was some way to extract the truth out of his treacherous mouth at this very moment.
From the moment he met the new Defense Against Dark Arts professor, he tried not to cringe as a nasty suspicion went through him. It didn’t take a genius to work out the fact that he was the one who put his name into the Goblet of Fire.
Harry placed a hand over his shoulder comfortingly. He felt suddenly better. He patted that hand and nodded. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”
He didn’t mention that at times, he wanted to crawl into a hole and hide for a while. But he was a Potter and Potters never shied away from confrontations.
“Henry…” Hermione approached him slowly and looked up at him sympathetically. “I believe you. We’ll get over this. Together.”
“Yes, we do, mate,” Neville said firmly. “Whoever did this will pay.”
“Only you, Henry. Only you,” Ron sighed dramatically.
Henry shrugged and kept stealing glances at the Great Hall’s entrance. Hermione squeezed his hand and dragged the rest of the Golden Four back to their seats.
Harry hummed in satisfaction. Not a heartbeat after, everyone stood in stunned shock as a loud crash followed by debris raining to the floor was heard.
“Albus Dumbledore, what have you done?” Lily Evans Potter growled.
Henry shuddered. His mother’s hair had gone wild. Angry magic was repelling the fiery strands and parting them in all directions. Her eyes blazed as her gaze went to Moody.
“Mother?” Harry arched a regal brow and something passed between them. Lily exhaled and cast a venomous stare at Dumbledore.
“How did this man manage to trick the wards?” James asked in a voice that said. ‘Don’t try to work your way out of this.’
“This man?” Professor McGonagall looked at his father as if he’d grown another head.
“Yes, this imposter,” Sirius gestured to the barely conscious man—courtesy of the second spell Harry cast at him wordlessly and wandlessly. “Who, by dint of your uselessness, had managed to put Henry’s name into the Goblet of Fire and bind him to a tournament he has no business partaking in.”
“Before you start throwing—“ Snape sneered, but Lily gave him no chance. “This is not the right time for you to be petulant and bitter, Mr Snape. My son’s safety comes first.”
Henry wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Snape paled even more. He stiffened and said slowly. “They’re attacking a fellow professor without proof.”
“What’s the meaning of this, Dumbledore?” High Master Karkaroff’s dark eyes sparkled with fury. “Two Champions for Hogwarts? You promised that your Age Line is enough.”
“Igor, this is not the right time for this. Maybe we should take this discussion elsewhere.”
“No,” James said coldly. “I won’t have anyone accuse my son of being a cheater. Everything we say will be heard by everyone. I sent a Patronus to Madam Bones, she’s on her way here.” Fury bled from his father’s magic as he looked at Hogwarts students.
Many of them looked uncomfortable as they averted their faces. Fame was a fickle thing, indeed. He didn’t need Legilimency to know what they were thinking.
“I don’t like any of this,” Madame Maxime hissed at Dumbledore—something made even more ferocious by her inhuman height.
“My brother did not put his name into the Goblet of Fire. Barty Crouch Jr. disguised as Senior Auror Moody did that.” The unmitigated rage in Harry’s eyes scorched the professors and reminded him so much of Arcturus Black that it gave him a chill. “He will put your suspicions at rest once and for all.”
Henry frowned and straightened as he became aware of all the judging gazes fixed on him.
“Don’t let their stupidity steal your fire,” Harry whispered in his ear. “You don’t need the likes of them.”
Henry smiled and gave them a condemning look as he took his wand out and said in a clear voice. “I, Henry Fleamont Potter, swear on my magic that I did not put my name into the Goblet of Fire nor did I ask someone to do it for me. So Mote Be It.” A stag emerged from his wand and stotted around the Great Hall.
“Now that this is out of the way, let’s find out the truth,” Sirius tapped his wand against Moody’s temple. “Time to start talking, imposter.”
James and Lily stood over the man, their nostrils flared. He could sense ripples of the Potter Family Magic in the air, ravenous to do the Lord’s bidding and eliminate whoever presented a threat to him or his.
“James,” Dumbledore sighed. “I know you’re angry.”
James chose to ignore the headmaster.
“Potter,” the imposter growled. He flicked his tongue and Karkaroff gasped. It was an unusual tongue. A forked tongue.
“I know how to deal with the likes of you,” Lily’s grin was feral. “Mr Snape, I’m afraid I don’t have Veritaserum on me. I need to borrow some of your stock.”
Snape seemed to cling to the offered olive branch like a lifeline. “That can be arranged, Lady Potter.”
Henry glanced askance at Harry. He gave an imperceptible shrug. For a moment, no one spoke or moved as they waited for Snape to fetch the Veritaserum.
“This better be something worth dragging me out of the case I was working on,” Madam Bones barged into the Great Hall, followed by Auror Shaklebolt and Junior Auror Tonks.
Her eyes lit up when they met Harry’s. “Heir Black,” she chirped, kissed him on the cheek and pulled him into a tight hug.
“Tonks,” Harry smiled faintly and tightened his arms around her.
“I’m so incredibly confused,” the pink-haired Auror scrunched her nose.
“So, it seems, is everyone. You didn’t miss much. Don’t worry.”
Henry couldn’t hide his snort at his brother’s sarcasm.
Hadrian’s ire fuelled him into hyper energy. The Black Magic, ever so thirsty to exact revenge, clamoured for forgoing the niceties and moving to torture.
This vile man—this criminal, was the reason his brother was forced to take part in a tournament that took many a good wizard and witch’s lives. Tendrils of magic escaped the tight control he had over his core and curled protectively around Henry.
His brother's startled gaze flew to his face and gratefulness filled his hazel eyes. Even if Henry wasn’t helpless anymore, he would never tire of looking after him. Potters never turned their backs on their family.
His expression offended, Dumbledore stepped back as Madam Bones skewered him with a filthy glare. “When a bunch of fools decided to revive this tournament, you promised that you would make sure no child is in danger. I was against holding this death trap at Hogwarts from the start for a sound reason. And now what do we have? A minor about to compete against witches and wizards with mature cores. Can’t you grasp the enormity of this, Dumbledore? I won’t have James' son's blood spilt on my watch.”
“It won’t come to that,” Henry muttered under his breath. ‘’To all intents and purposes, I am unkillable.”
“Don’t jinx it!” Lily hissed.
Hadrian rolled his eyes at his brother’s bad timing.
“I assure you I had no prior knowledge of this. I cast the Age Line myself. It is more than enough to prevent any minor from trespassing.”
“But not adults, it seems,” Madame Maxime sneered. “How could you overlook this crucial detail?”
“I—“ he hung his head in shame. “You are unfortunately right, Madame Maxime.”
“Which won’t absolve you from your part in causing this,” Madam Bones said. “You know very well when great men like you commits faults, the price is usually too hefty to pay. This is a disgrace to Hogwarts, to the Ministry of Magic and to Magical Britain in general.”
Snape forced Barty’s head back and put three drops of Veritaserum into his mouth. He gurgled and tried to spit but it was useless.
Not a single sound was heard, not even the rustle of a breath as everyone waited.
James swept Dumbledore with a fierce scowl before he sank to one knee and looked Barty Jr. in the eye. “Who are you?”
Barty seemed to struggle for a moment, but it was pointless. Veritaserum was the strongest Truth Serum known to Wixen. “B-Bartemius Emerick Crouch Jr.”
Madam Bones held her hand to silence the outraged crowd.
“How?” High Master Karkaroff looked flabbergasted.
“That’s what I plan to find out,” James sounded on the verge of pouncing on the other wizard.
“I can help,” Sirius offered. He whispered under his breath and before everyone’s eyes the scars and the mangled nose disappeared, the mane of grey hair turned light brown and with a clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg took its place.
Everyone seemed momentary stunned before shouts and whispers filled the Great Hall.
“I still prefer Moody’s face,” Henry sighed.
“We all do, little Henry,” Tonks chirped. “I’d rather have my cruel, heartless mentor any given day.”
“Don’t call me that!” Henry scowled.
“Did you put Henry’s name into the Goblet of Fire? Have you forged his signature?” Professor McGonagall sounded livid.
“I used his signature from one of his assignments. It’s Potter’s handwriting. The contact is biding. There’s no way out for your precious Saviour.”
“How dare you?” Lily spat and before James could stop her, she drew her arm back and let her fist fly, catching Barty right on the nose. The hit sent him to the floor again. He grinned as blood trickled down his mouth and chin. “There’s nothing you can do to save your child, Mudblood. His fate is in Master’s hands now.”
“You—“ Rage overrode rational thought as James tried to lunge. Thankfully, Sirius prevented him from killing the man before he—
Hadrian frowned. He exchanged a look with Cassius who jumped to his feet, his eyes narrowed into stormy slits. At once, he drew his wand but it was too late.
Barty smeared blood over the Dark Mark and muttered under his breath. He inhaled sharply and then grimaced. The mark started glittering and dread filled his veins. The snake opened its blood-red eyes and slithered out of the green skull’s mouth. It bared its sharp fangs and lightning fast, sank them viciously into Barty’s wrist.
Dumbledore aimed his wand at the gaping wound to no purpose.
“You will lose,” Barty breathed ruggedly as his complexion went too pale. Jeering in triumph, he closed his eyes one last time.
“This is enough,” Dumbledore’s voice brokered no argument. “Everyone back to your common rooms. Prefects, please take your housemates to your respective dormitories.”
Still astonished by how this night had turned out, it took the students a while to vacate the Great Hall.
“And still we didn’t get much,” Sirius raked a hand through his long hair in frustration.
“Lord Crouch has so much to answer to,” Madam Bones growled. “I’ll have Unspeakable Rookwood look into this case. There’s more to the Dark Mark than what we thought.”
Hadrian dimly questioned where everything had gone so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Veritaserum should’ve forced Barty to reveal Voldemort’s whereabouts so they could—
“Don’t,” Henry grabbed his arm firmly. “I know what you’re thinking. None of this is your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened tonight.”
“Henry…” When did his little brother become so wise?
“But the tournament,” Lily said in defeat.
“I want to compete. I have to find out why Voldemort went to these lengths to make me compete. It was inevitable from the start. We've known for years it would come to this eventually.”
“That’s a very brave thing for you to say, Henry,” Dumbledore stared at his brother with a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“With all due respect, Professor, I’m not doing it for you,” Henry said in a hard voice. “I’m doing it for my family. They don’t deserve a weak son who keeps hiding behind their backs. I’m a Potter too and Potters fear nothing—even Death. It’s but another beginning.”
As soon as the words left Henry's mouth, obsidian sparks erupted from Dumbledore’s wand. He seemed alarmed as he stared at it questioningly.
Hadrian frowned and vowed to look more into this later. Everyone’s head spun around when the door crashed against the wall and someone barked.
“Where’s the bloody bastard who put me into that pit?” A haggard Senior Auror Moody limped towards them and bared his teeth when he saw Barty’s lifeless body. “Albus!”