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Hogwarts.
The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, the sky changing from deep blue to warm gold, thin clouds catching the sunlight as the world slowly woke.
Up in one of the castle's highest towers, the door to the headmaster's office opened, and someone who looked like he could use a few more hours of sleep walked in, dragging his feet.
"Hello, Potter."
Harry adjusted his glasses at the sound of the voice and looked ahead, only to see someone he really was not expecting. Professor... Moody?
"Come and sit down, boy." To anyone else, that might have sounded rather rude, but by now he, along with pretty much all of Hogwarts, was used to Moody's zero-patience way of speaking.
Absentmindedly, Harry stepped further inside. He had been in Dumbledore's office a few times before. It was... flashy, to say the least. The only thing different from what he remembered was the table in front of the headmaster's desk, which seemed a lot bigger, with many more chairs.
Everything else was the same, a circular room lined with portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were still fast asleep, which, honestly, was exactly what he wished he could be doing right now.
He had been very happy at first when it was announced there would be no classes today because of the Third Task scheduled to begin at dusk.
But then, late into the night, a Patronus arrived right in his face, a corporeal phoenix, which needed no explanation that it belonged to none other than Headmaster Dumbledore, asking him to present himself at his office at seven bloody o'clock in the morning.
He had seriously considered pretending he had never seen or heard it, but Dumbledore would not be that dumb to believe an excuse like that, right? Plus, Patronuses did not come with a polite "decline" option, and he could not exactly negotiate with the headmaster of all people either.
Hence, here he was. Thank Merlin it was not just Moody, or this morning could have ended up even more miserable. Headmaster Dumbledore was there too, obviously.
Then Professor Caesar, Professor McGonagall... hmm. What's Sirius doing here? Ah, right, it was today. But then... who was that guy again?
His gaze moved over the people he knew, then paused, tilting his head slightly at the last person. Ah, right. Then it clicked. The Minister of Magic... what's his first name again... Greengrass.
"Harry!" said Minister Greengrass jovially, stepping forward. "I do not believe we have been properly introduced. Jameson Greengrass. My daughter speaks rather fondly of you."
Are we that familiar? And your daughter? Which one? Is it that ice witch from Slytherin? Harry's mind immediately brought up a stern face. Beautiful, sure, but far too cold for his taste.
"That... I am fine, sir," he lied, replying calmly.
In reality, he was anything but. One, he was sleepy. Two, he was confused. And honestly, who doesn't know him, the bloody Minister of Magic. Moreover, he was pretty sure the ice witch talking fondly about him was a fat lie.
Of course, he kept his thoughts to himself, lest he might get shoved into Azkaban. Outwardly, he put on a shy smile, nodding, "pleasure to meet you too, sir. My name is Harry Potter."
"For crying out loud, Jameson, let the boy sit."
Thank Merlin for Professor Moody. Never did Harry think he would ever feel thankful for Moody's presence anywhere.
He sat down after the Minister took his seat, only to find the atmosphere even more awkward. Everyone's eyes were fixed on him... wait, why were there so many people? It only occurred to him then, and... why was he here in the first place?
Instinctively, his gaze turned to the person he felt he could rely on most in situations like this, ones he often found himself in, inexplicable as they were, and out of everyone there, it was not even Sirius Black, his godfather, that his eyes landed on, but Maverick, his reliable professor.
And on cue, he saw his professor give him a reassuring nod, then explain his precise doubt. "We brought you here to discuss some last-minute instructions for the Third Task later today. You are all ready for tonight, right?"
So that's how it is. Because there were so many people, Harry had not assumed it would be about his super secret mission tonight, but it turned out his "secret" mission was not much of a secret among them. So all of them were aware?
"I'm ready, Professor," he replied to Maverick, putting on the firmest face he could in front of everyone. "You can count on me."
"You show remarkable courage, Harry. It weighs on me, more than I can say, that I must place such a burden upon you..."
He turned his head slightly and saw the Headmaster speaking, his usual twinkling eyes dimmer than usual.
No no no, would Headmaster Dumbledore stop him? Harry thought uneasily.
Was what he had to take part in dangerous? Of course it was. And knowing Dumbledore, this overly empathetic headmaster might stop him from taking the stage because of it.
No. This was about bringing down the Dark Lord of all people, the son of a bitch who murdered his parents, and he definitely did not want to pass up the chance to take part in it. He absolutely, positively, did not want to back out.
He needed the Headmaster to know, but he was not very good with words, unfortunately. So once again, he could only turn to his favorite professor for help.
However, before he could say or even hint anything with his face, he heard another voice, a sigh, after which she addressed him. "Mr. Potter," it was his Head of House this time, "before we start the discussion, can you affirm, are you absolutely certain you can handle the pressure?"
Here we go again. Yes, for Merlin's sake, I am ready. Of course, he did not dare say it like that to her face, but still could not help rolling his eyes slightly.
So once again, putting on the best, most confident expression he could manage, he first bobbed his head, speaking firmly, "I am absolutely, one hundred percent ready and certain, Professor."
Actually, neither McGonagall nor Dumbledore had any intention of persuading Harry not to go through with it. It was just, well, how old foxes communicated, all careful looks and loaded words, and Harry was simply a few decades too young to read between the lines.
A moment of silence then fell, before it was broken by a light chuckle.
"Atta boy," it was Sirius, his godfather. He first gave Harry a wide, 'I've got your back' grin, then turned to look across everyone before speaking, "I think I can vouch for my godson and tell you he means every word... so let's not waste time second-guessing and just get on with it."
That, of course, did not mean he was not worried about Harry's safety. If anything, he was more worried than anyone else there.
But he also trusted Maverick. It wouldn't be wrong to say Sirius Black was now one of Maverick's people, part of his inner circle, so he knew, perhaps more than some here, exactly what kind of person Maverick was.
Though he was ruthless to his enemies, he was also someone who took care of his own people.
And Harry was, without a doubt, someone important to Maverick. Moreover, he had been thoroughly briefed on the layers upon layers of protection on Harry, and that he would be under complete surveillance the entire time. If anything even looked like it might go wrong, Maverick would step in.
All that was left was for Harry to play his part. So yeah, there was no need to second-guess now, if anything, it would only mess with his confidence.
"I'm with Black," Moody also grunted his agreement after Sirius. "We've only got half a day before dusk. Start now, finish sooner, then let the boy have some time to clear his head."
Harry nodded gratefully to both of them, even Moody appeared pleasant to the eyes.
That's right, what good would it do to second-guess whether he was ready or not now? And... he did indeed need to clear his head before the event, just a short while alone to think of nothing. He does it before high-stakes Quidditch games too, and really, was this not the same?
High stakes, thrilling, only, probably, perhaps a bit more dangerous.
"I agree as well. Harry is as ready as he'll ever be, and don't forget, he is not doing this alone. I'll personally be watching over him at all times, so let us move on from this..."
And finally, with Maverick's statement, the argument was settled for good. From there, the air inside the office also grew more serious as the real discussion began, and Harry finally understood why everyone he saw there was there in the first place.
He was right to assume everyone here was well aware of the operation tonight, and they were there simply to give him reassurance that he was not alone. Heck, it turned out far more people were involved than he had ever imagined, and there was much more to what was going to happen than just his actions alone and the Dark Lord's resurrection. That was only the beginning.
Merlin. The more Harry listened, the more excited he got.
First, Professor Caesar, using some strange magic again, projected a three-dimensional layout of the field where the task would take place and, step by step, began to explain what everyone's responsibility would be.
"...you will meet with your godfather here." Harry listened, nodding, looking at the pointed location on the life like map. "The cameras on you will focus elsewhere only briefly for a few seconds, so in that window you must switch places."
Sirius also nodded, listening intently.
"After which, you will be Harry Potter, then carry on to finish the task."
"Wait, so if Sirius wins the competition, does that mean I win the Triwizard Tournament trophy?" Harry interrupted as a thought occurred to him.
He then saw Professor Caesar raise a brow at him and... that very eye twitch. Actually, Maverick had not thought about it.
Thankfully, McGonagall was there to clear it up.
"Mr. Diggory should reach the trophy first. His score places him second, and he is entitled to that advantage. Should he fail though, you will proceed and take the trophy..."
Merlin. When did his Head of House turn corrupt? Harry really found it hard to believe the stern lady would even suggest it. Heck, even Maverick could not help but raise a brow.
And as if she could hear their thoughts, McGonagall rolled her eyes at the table. "Please, Mr. Potter is, in any case, more than capable, and would have won under normal circumstances..."
Cough... Dumbledore cleared his throat. "The matter of the trophy, I leave it entirely to your decision, Sirius."
"Albus—"
"Let us move on, Minerva..." the older man said, smiling, then turned to Maverick. "Go on, Professor..."
"Right..." Maverick gave a small shrug, his attention returning to the map before he looked at Harry. "You will meet the Death Eater spy there. He will be in disguise as well, using Polyjuice, and he will hit you with a Binding Hex. Like we practiced, you play along, and then you will be taken by Portkey straight to Voldemort's location..."
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By the time Harry left the Headmaster's office, it was close to nine, and he felt more confident than ever now about tonight. Shame he could not tell his two best buddies, he had been told to keep it quiet, even after everything was over. Still, a small price to pay for being in on it, and for getting a chance at that noseless bastard who murdered his parents.
A soft, cheerful hum under his breath, he then made his way toward the Great Hall for something to eat. All that talking and excitement had long chased away his sleep and left his stomach wanting to be filled.
Back in the Headmaster's office, the people there had also dispersed to clear their heads. Tonight would be a big evening, not only for Harry, and each and every one there had a role to play in it. Besides, everything that needed to be said had already been covered, more than once. Today had only been about settling the last few details before the action.
Minutes soon turned into hours, the sun climbing higher, passing its peak, then drifting west at its usual pace, the rest of the school having no idea a great conspiracy was cooking behind the coming excitement.
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Author's Note:
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