Chapter 277: Chapter 277: "Echoes of the Night"
The night air hung heavy over Hogwarts, filled with uncertainty and fear. The light from the torches in the corridors seemed to flicker uneasily, as if even they were aware of the darkness threatening from beyond the castle's walls. Harry and Fleur walked through the empty hallways, their footsteps echoing off the cold stone. The castle was quiet, far too quiet for a place that had recently been bustling with celebration and excitement. It felt as if the entire school held its breath, waiting for the next catastrophe.
Fleur kept her hand firmly in Harry's, her thumb brushing against his knuckles as they moved. She finally broke the silence, her voice soft and carrying a hint of unease. "You were there, weren't you?" she asked, her eyes searching his face. "Where Charles was taken? Did you fight You-Know-Who?"
Harry was quiet for a moment before answering. "Some things are better kept secret for now," he said carefully. "Voldemort has returned, and he's out there somewhere. The fewer people who know certain details, the safer it is for everyone."
Fleur nodded, her gaze unwavering. "I trust you, 'Arry," she said softly. "Just promise me you'll be careful, oui?"Harry managed a small smile. "I'll try," he said, giving her hand a squeeze.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while before Fleur spoke again. "What do you think they'll do with the tournament now? After everything that 'appened?"
Harry sighed, leaning against the stone wall. "Hard to say. They might cancel it completely after all this. It wasn't fair for Krum, and it definitely wasn't fair for you. Or maybe they'll just end it here and declare a winner based on the points from the first two tasks."Fleur smiled faintly. "That would make you ze champion, non?" she said, nudging him gently.
Harry let out a humorless chuckle. "Seems trivial now, doesn't it? A thousand Galleons and 'eternal glory' compared to what's coming."
They paused near a window overlooking the grounds. The maze was still visible in the distance, its hedges casting long shadows in the moonlight.
"I should return to ze carriage," Fleur said finally. "Mama and Papa will be worried. I ran away when I 'eard you were back." She hesitated, then leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Do not do anything reckless tonight, mon coeur."
Harry smiled as she pulled away, watching her walk down the corridor until she disappeared from sight. Then, turning on his heel, he made his way towards the hospital wing to wait for Sirius and Amelia to return.
The hospital wing was much livelier than the rest of the castle. Charles was wide awake, surrounded by his friends—Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. Lily sat nearby, her eyes fixed on her son with a mixture of worry and relief. Madam Pomfrey was bustling between Charles and another bed, where Professor Moody lay recovering from his ordeal.
"...and then I hit him with a cutting curse!" Charles was saying excitedly, his eyes bright despite the exhaustion evident on his face. "Actually made him bleed!"
"Good lad!" Moody growled approvingly from his bed, his magical eye whirling wildly. "But next time, aim better! Always go for vital areas if you can—even dark lords can bleed when they don't practice constant vigilance."
Hermione looked horrified yet fascinated, while Ron's eyes were wide with admiration. Ginny held Charles's hand tightly, as if afraid he might disappear again.
"But mate," Ron interjected, "you actually dueled You-Know-Who? And survived?"
Charles nodded, though the smile faltered slightly. "It was terrifying. For a moment, I thought I was done for. I'm only here because of that guy who saved me. Never seen anyone move so fast. He just appeared, picked me up, and threw me to the cup like a toy." He paused, his brow furrowing. "I hope he got out safely."
Moody grunted. "If he managed to pull that off—sneaking in, saving you, and appearing without Voldemort or his Death Eaters knowing—then he's good. Real good. I'd wager he managed just fine. Might've even taken some of those bastards down before leaving."
"That'd be great," Charles muttered. "I don't want to see those people ever again… especially Malfoy's dad."
Harry leaned against the wall, listening to the conversation with a small smile tugging at his lips. Moody's expectations would be met—the Death Eaters had indeed been taken down, and Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be around to influence Draco anymore. Maybe, just maybe, Draco might choose a different path now.
Just then, the hospital wing doors opened, and the search party returned. Sirius led the group, followed by Amelia, James, and several grim-faced Aurors. Notably absent was Dumbledore.
"Did you find him?" Harry asked, pushing away from the wall, his expression carefully composed. "Did you fight Voldemort?"Sirius shook his head, his eyes dark. "We didn't see anyone, Harry. No Death Eaters, no Voldemort." He glanced towards Charles. "Your portkey..."
"My portkey," Harry frowned, feigning confusion. "Did I make a mistake? Send you to the wrong place?"
"No," Amelia stepped forward. "Based on the magical signatures and ritual evidence we detected there, it was definitely the right location. But Harry..." she exchanged looks with Sirius. "The entire area was destroyed."
"Destroyed?" several voices asked at once.
"Complete devastation," James added, running a hand through his hair. "The graveyard Charles described? Nothing but scorched earth and melted stone. Whatever happened there after Charles left..." he shook his head in disbelief.
"A battle?" Moody asked sharply from his bed. "Between the Death Eaters and Charles's mysterious savior?"
"Must've been," Sirius agreed. "There were traces of Fiendfyre, and some kind of massive magic we couldn't identify. Whoever fought there... they weren't holding back."
"What about the Death Eaters?" Lily asked, her voice trembling. "The ones Charles named—are they...?"
"We'll know soon enough," Amelia said, her voice grim. "If they're dead, their wills will activate. If they're alive... well, we'll see if anyone suddenly goes missing."
Sirius sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dumbledore's not pleased, though. He thinks whoever saved Charles should've subdued the Death Eaters and handed them over for trial."
Harry's eyes flashed, and he crossed his arms. "Did he really say that? From what Charles said, it was him versus Voldemort and his most dangerous Death Eaters. Holding back in that situation is insane. Even I wouldn't be able to survive if I did that."
Moody grunted in agreement. "He's right. In that kind of fight, you take down as many as you can, as fast as you can. No room for second chances."
Amelia gave a firm nod. "Exactly. But Dumbledore and the Minister think differently. They're more concerned about 'high-ranking members of old families' dying." She sighed. "They're talking about finding this mysterious savior, calling him in for questioning."
Harry shook his head. "Good luck with that. If this guy took on Voldemort and lived, he's not someone I'd want to make an enemy of."
The room fell silent at Harry's words, each person lost in their own thoughts.
"What about Voldemort?" Charles asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Is he... is he dead?"
"The Dark Mark's still active," Sirius answered, shaking his head. "And darker than ever. He's alive somewhere."
Moody clenched his jaw, his magical eye spinning in its socket. "I hope those Death Eaters are dead. His inner circle they were the worst. If they're gone, it be one less problem when the fight comes."
"Alastor!" Lily admonished, glancing at the students.
"They need to know what's coming, Lily." Moody retorted. "War's coming, whether we like it or not. Best be prepared."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Finally, Madam Pomfrey broke it by clapping her hands decisively.
"That's quite enough excitement for one night," she declared. "Mr. Potter needs rest, as does Professor Moody. The rest of you can continue your discussions tomorrow."
"She's right," James agreed, placing a hand on Lily's shoulder. "We all need sleep. Tomorrow will bring its own challenges."
As the group began to disperse, Harry caught Sirius's eye. A silent understanding passed between them - there would be more to discuss, but not tonight. Not with so many ears listening.
"Goodnight, everyone," Harry said quietly, slipping out of the hospital wing. Behind him, he could hear Madam Pomfrey shooing away the last of the visitors, Charles's friends making promises to return first thing in the morning.
The castle was silent as Harry made his way back to Ravenclaw Tower. Tomorrow would indeed bring new challenges, but for now, he had accomplished what he'd set out to do. Voldemort was back, but weakened, his inner circle decimated. The game had changed, and Harry had made the opening move.
As he climbed into bed, exhaustion finally overtaking him, Harry allowed himself a small smile. The war was just beginning, but he had already dealt the enemy a devastating blow. Now, he only needed to ensure that no one discovered his part in it.
Chapter 278: Chapter 278: "The Morning After"
The Great Hall was unusually quiet the morning after the Third Task. Students whispered in hushed voices, casting glances at the Gryffindor table, where Charles Potter was notably absent, and at the Slytherin table, where a few seats remained empty. There was an air of unease that permeated the entire room, a tension that spoke to the gravity of what had transpired the previous night.
At the Ravenclaw table, Harry sat quietly, buttering his toast while his friends discussed the events of the previous evening."But where did you run off to after you got out of the maze?" Roger Davies asked, leaning closer. "We were worried about you. One minute you were there, the next—gone."
"I told you," Harry replied with practiced patience, "I had to decipher the portkey signature quickly and make another one that could take me to where Charles was. There wasn't time to waste. It's as simple as that."
Elvinia snorted from across the table, her eyes narrowed. "Nothing's ever simple when it comes to you, Potter."
Before Harry could respond, Cedric dropped into the seat beside him, his face unusually pale. "Speaking of simple things," Cedric said, running a hand through his messy hair, "I had the strangest dream last night—about the maze."
"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow, not breaking his rhythm as he continued eating.
"I dreamt that I died," Cedric said quietly. The group fell silent. "I know it sounds mad, but it felt so real. Like... like I was supposed to die last night, but somehow, I didn't."
"That's cheerful breakfast conversation," Reggy muttered, his concern showing despite his sarcasm.
"Well, it's good that Harry was selected as Hogwarts champion instead of you," Arabella added. "With that attitude, you wouldn't have lasted long in the tasks."
Cedric nodded slowly. "I feel that too. Thank Merlin I wasn't chosen. But to think that Professor Moody was an imposter... Did any of you suspect that?"
Reggy "No. I heard he was only replaced a few months back. Till then it was the real Moody. Good that I did not annoy him in the class"
"Smart move," Harry said with a small smile. He was surprised Cedric had dreamt of what should have happened in the original timeline. That was mysterious—but good. It gave Harry hope that his actions could save people who will die in the future. Good news for Sirius.
Their conversation was interrupted by a rush of wings overhead as the morning owl post arrived. Students eagerly unfolded their copies of the Daily Prophet, the usual breakfast chatter dying away as they absorbed the news.
"TRAGEDY AT TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT," screamed the main headline. Below it, in smaller text, "Boy-Who-Lived Kidnapped; Dark Plot Foiled."
Roger read aloud from his copy:
"In a shocking turn of events during the Triwizard Tournament's final task, the Boy-Who-Lived, Charles Potter (14), was kidnapped by followers of You-Know-Who in an apparent attempt to use dark magic to bring their master back. Sources say that young Potter managed a daring escape, though details remain unclear. Minister Fudge assures the public that claims of You-Know-Who's involvement are 'patently absurd.'
'No magic exists that can bring back the dead. This dark ritual nonsense is just that—nonsense,' the Minister said. 'Mr. Potter's account reflects the confusion and fear of the moment...'
"Bollocks," Elvinia muttered, drawing surprised looks from those around her. "What? We all know something bigger happened."
Arabella, meanwhile, pointed to another article. "Look here: 'INFLUENTIAL MINISTRY OFFICIALS FOUND DEAD; INVESTIGATION ONGOING.'"
She read, her voice dropping as the words sank in: "The wills of several prominent Ministry officials were enacted late last night, indicating their deaths. The cause is still under investigation. Among the deceased are Lucius Malfoy..."
She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy sat, his face expressionless, an unopened newspaper before him.
"Merlin," Cedric breathed. "What really happened last night?"
Harry stayed silent, keeping his focus on his breakfast while his friends debated theories. His eyes met Fleur's across the hall. She gave him a small, knowing nod, a silent message that they would talk later—somewhere far from prying eyes.
"Look at this," Reggy pointed to a smaller piece on the back page. "They're saying that the tournament results are pending review due to 'special circumstances.'"
"Special circumstances?" Roger scoffed. "That's an understatement."
"Speaking of special," Elvinia said, her sharp eyes on Harry, "anyone else notice our resident champion is being oddly quiet?"
Harry met her gaze, his expression calm. "Sometimes," he said, rising from the table, "it's better to watch and wait rather than add to the speculation." He gathered his belongings, offering a slight smile. "Besides, I have a Charms assignment that won't finish itself."
As Harry made his way out of the Great Hall, he could hear the conversations growing louder behind him. Rumors would spread, theories would abound, but Harry knew the truth would remain buried—right where he wanted it.
The game had changed, and Harry had made the first move. Now, he would watch as the pieces fell.
As he stepped into the corridor, a familiar voice called after him. "Escaping the chaos, 'Arry?"
He turned to see Fleur approaching, her expression a careful mix of public concern and private understanding. Before he could answer, more footsteps echoed from behind.
"Running away from my questions, Potter?" Elvinia had followed, with Cedric and Roger trailing after her.
"Since when do you care about Charms assignments?" Elvinia pressed, eyebrow raised.
"Since Professor Flitwick might actually fail me if I don't meet his standards," Harry replied dryly. "I have my priorities—like finishing my Charms Mastery before graduation."
"Speaking of priorities," Cedric began, but before he could continue, Alicia appeared around the corner, Angelina beside her.
"There you are!" Alicia said, dragging Angelina along. "Did you see the Prophet? It's a load of rubbish, isn't it?"
They all ended up drifting toward an empty classroom. Harry sighed—so much for a quiet escape. Once inside, Fleur casually cast privacy spells on the door, and Harry nodded approvingly.
"Alright," Angelina said, hopping up onto a desk, "what really happened last night? The Prophet's telling tales, Dumbledore's being cryptic, and half the Slytherins look like they've seen ghosts."
"More like they've lost family members," Elvinia said, her tone grim. "Those weren't just Ministry officials—they were-"
"Death Eaters," Harry finished quietly. The room fell silent at his words. "You all know it, even if the Prophet won't admit it."
"But how do you know?" Roger asked, and quickly added, "Not that I doubt you."
"Charles named them," Harry replied. "He told us last night. The names you read in the paper—those were the ones who were there when he was taken."
"So something happened where Charles was portkeyed to? A battle?" Fleur asked.
"Yes," Harry agreed. "There was a confrontation. Not with Charles though. He is not strong enough. Maybe after he escaped there was a battle. I should have been the one to reach the cup first had the imposter not intervened. The battle should have been fun."
Elvinia gave Harry a pointed look. "You and your meaning of fun. You should think about safety sometimes. Also running away trouble."
"Speaking of trouble," Alicia said, leaning in, "have you heard how Charles escaped? Ronald told me Charles was babbling about some mysterious savior before they took him to the hospital wing."
Harry kept his expression neutral. "Yes, there was someone who helped him. But I don't know who it was. The Aurors are investigating."
"But-" Roger began, but was cut off by a sharp knock at the door. The door opened to reveal Sirius, his expression serious.
"Sorry to interrupt, everyone, but I need to borrow my godson for a moment," Sirius said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Harry followed Sirius out into the corridor, leaving behind his curious friends. Their muffled voices resumed as the door closed. Harry felt a pang of guilt—they deserved answers, but this was his war, and he intended to fight it alone. Someday, maybe, they would understand why he kept so many secrets. For now, their safety lay in ignorance.
Besides, Harry had more immediate concerns—like convincing Sirius he wasn't involved in last night's events. While he trusted Sirius with his life, there were certain things best left unsaid. Harry definitely didn't want his godfather to know he'd taken many lives last night.
Just another typical day in the life of Harry Potter.
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