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52.97% Enchanting Melodies (HP SI) / Chapter 196: Chapter 196: A Thankless Job

Bab 196: Chapter 196: A Thankless Job

If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.

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27 February 1994, Hogwarts

Alastor Moody spent over two hours in the Slytherin third-year dormitories before deciding that it was a dead end. Dumbledore's frankly disturbing orders were concerning, but orders were orders. He had learned long ago that Albus always had something up his sleeve and had a reason behind every action he made.

Still, ordering him to search some kid's bedroom, one whose parents fought by his side during the last war, was just in bad taste. He did find a few odd things, but nothing really concerning. It didn't take long to break the encryption of the protection charms on the boy's trunk, thanks to a small artefact he bought from a German wizard during his time as an Auror.

Aside from some clothes, a disturbing number of books, fiction and educational in equal numbers, and a bit of gold, the only noteworthy item was a small notebook filled with notes and small ideas. It was mostly concentrated on curses and their counters, as well as the development of new ways of detecting them, and even some interesting research about a new General Counter-Spell that was geared towards curses in general. It would have been some very impressive work for a NEWT student, hell, even someone working on a mastery in charms, and yet it was a third year that did it.

For the first time, Alastor finally understood why Albus was so worried about Potter. The boy could easily end up as his successor, or the next Dark Lord, the latter being the most likely because of his close association with Arcturus Black.

This kind of work was definitely not unique. The boy had likely stashed his other work elsewhere, probably more completed. Still, there was no sign of Malicious Dark Magic, at least not something as dangerous as what the children in Slytherin practised back when Voldemort was still kicking around.

He had to admit that the work was fascinating though, and it wasn't long until he found himself engrossed for half an hour reading it, trying to understand its complexities. Magical theory was never his strong suit, but Alastor was more than experienced with handling Dark Magic and curses.

Still, when he realized how long he spent reading a student's notebook, he decided that he spent more than enough time in a child's dormitory and that it was time to leave. Planting both gnarled hands onto the armrests, he pushed himself out of his cushy chair and made for the door.

He could have gone to the antechamber that Albus arranged for him when he came, but to Moody, a period of inactivity was more tiring than work. It came with the job – well, his former job, he was retired now, he reminded himself. Yet, despite his retirement, his feet itched to explore. His eyes sought to examine every nook and cranny of the building for any sign of the enemy. Perhaps this was why he practically leapt at the missions Dumbledore sent his way instead of retiring like most people his age. He could have more time to enjoy the limbs he had left.

Students passing by leapt away from him as he entered the hall. He looked about at their shocked faces. It was still funny that people were still scared shitless by him. Those who were not aware of his reputation were still terrified of his scarred face and peg leg.

As he made his way to the arena, Alastor's magical eye took everything in. He grew to love his eye over the years, it was almost worth losing his old one just for how much it enhanced his situational awareness. He peered into classrooms and offices, desks and bags. Magical items glowed slightly, and hidden doors stood out from the walls.

When someone got too close, he even looked through their clothing for hidden weapons. It was an instinct that he honed for a very long time. Constant Vigilance was necessary. Perhaps if he had practised this all those years ago, he wouldn't have lost her. Perhaps, he wouldn't have been alone.

He had been just an Auror back then, a very competent one, but he was dutiful. He followed orders, did his paperwork and went home to his lovely wife. Being an Auror was just a career, nothing more. Unfortunately, he ended up arresting someone that apparently Voldemort considered to be an asset. The following week, he was attacked by a Death Eater squad in his home, and in his surprise, he was barely prepared to fight back. His wife paid the price for his lack of vigilance. Alastor had lost everything on that night, left tortured, beaten, and scarred in a burning home, with a Dark Mark glowing above. 

Alastor might have been overzealous in his revenge, and definitely very reckless. He massacred more than a share of Death Eaters; the ones that attacked his home did not survive the month. His recklessness cost him more than a few scars, a leg, and his eye, but Dumbledore patched him up, gave him purpose, and pointed him in the direction of death eaters. Alastor relished it because fighting was better than remembering, better than going to an empty home devoid of life or warmth.

He agreed to join Dumbledore's movement, his order, out of hatred for Voldemort more than anything else. He had nothing else left in him anyway.

Yet, here he was, relegated to spying on a child.

An interesting child, yet a child, nonetheless.

The former Auror walked up the stands to sit next to Albus, who wandlessly cast a privacy charm, something that Alastor couldn't dream of doing. It was small displays like this that showed just how far the gap was between Titans like Dumbledore and the rest of them.

Dumbledore turned at Moody's approach. He greeted him with a warm smile that the scarred man easily recognized as fake, and extended his hand. "Alastor, old friend! It's been a while."

"Good evening, Professor. Enjoying the duels?"

"Ah, yes. They had been quite entertaining. So far, Percival Weasley, Penelope Clearwater, and Gemma Farley have qualified for the semi-finals. Ludo just announced the last duel of the day. Daphne Greengrass against Harry Potter."

The former Auror couldn't help but snort at the decision, "You want Potter to fight his girlfriend?"

"I will admit that my wanting to keep the duels balanced did impact the decision. The bunch of third years were very impressive in this task, and I wanted one of them to qualify; having an underdog in the semi-finals would help sell tickets after young Neville was eliminated so quickly."

"Well, Potter definitely is no underdog, I can tell you that. I doubted your words during the boy's guardianship hearing, but you were right. He's far more capable than any third-year I've ever seen."

The older wizard stiffened, "What did you uncover?"

"Just a couple of notebooks of his, filled with theoretical work and arithmancy that I could barely make any heads and tails of it. He's analyzing formulas of known curses and whatnot. From the number of fiction books and biographies about curse-breaking, I'm assuming he wants to be one. It's not too concerning but he must have other notebooks that he hid somewhere."

Dumbledore took a deep sigh, "It is as I feared, then."

"What is?"

"I believed that young Harry might have been responsible for Neville's behaviour in his own duel. I didn't have the chance to examine him since Augusta requested that he recover in their family manor a couple of days later, but I believe that young Harry cast some kind of obscure curse to somehow get Neville to cast his last spell. It's the only explanation I had; he was the only person young Neville spent time around since the year started."

There were holes in that theory. For one, a curse should have been detected by the duelling wards as some kind of cheating. But if the curse was somehow anchored to an already known cursed scar, it could technically slip by the detection. Still, Alastor had never heard of someone cursing someone to cast a spell they couldn't even do in the first place, especially not wandlessly. Memories of the frankly extremely advanced notebook about curses did come to mind. The boy could technically create it somehow.

Still, there were too many unknowns and Alastor wasn't afraid to speak his mind, "this is flimsy at best, Albus. You need better than that… I don't think any child would purposely almost kill another one for no reason…"

"He has plenty of reasons. He wants to embarrass me in revenge for my actions the previous summer."

"By the way, what the hell were you thinking, Albus?"

The older wizard looked sheepish, "I might have been rash in my decision to alienate him. I was just concerned about the influence Arcturus Black could have on a young boy, especially one as talented as Mr. Potter."

"Well, you fucked up. But if it's any consolation, I don't think Potter has it in him to almost kill another innocent student like that. He's embarrassing you plenty enough with the way he's outsmarting the tasks."

Dumbledore's fists clenched, "I am not willing to risk letting such a dangerous student remain unsupervised. I did with Riddle, and you know how much of a mess this was… I want you to keep observing him in the castle. I'll say that I hired you as a consultant for the third task."

"You're getting hyper-fixated on the boy, Albus. This is not like you…"

"Perhaps, but it is a very small favour to ask you, Alastor. I'm asking you to trust me here…"

The scarred man let out a deep sigh, "This is wrong, Albus, and I think you know that deep down. I could understand spying on Lupin, considering his time on the continent and his condition. He could be a real risk to the students, even if he hasn't infected anyone in his life. But Potter is thirteen. You're blowing this out of proportion."

"I'm not asking you to spy on the boy, just stay vigilant about his activities."

"That's another way of saying spying… But I do owe you more than enough favours. I'll do it, but I can feel that this won't end well, Albus."

The headmaster smiled softly, "Thank you for your trust, old friend… And I am not being too judgmental of the boy. I have just given him an opportunity to make amends by pairing him with Miss Greengrass. He could either forfeit without anyone judging him for refusing to fight his friend, or he could try to embarrass me again, with the cost of the Greengrass family ending up in the crossfire."

Alastor knew that there had to be more to it, but before he could say anything, Ludo Bagman's grating enhanced voice started speaking, "Ladies and Gentlemen, sadly we find ourselves at the final duel of the day. Yet, it might be the one you have been waiting for the most. Two underdogs, who were never expected to come this far in the tournament, will battle it out so that the victor shall have the final spot in the semifinals. So, let us welcome Daphne Greengrass and Harry Potter to the stage!"

The two duelers were walking towards the duelling stage while speaking like old friends, unconcerned by the very idea that they were going to fight a few minutes later. When both students bowed and took on duelling stances. When it was time to fight, Potter just raised his hand and said with an enhanced yet bored voice, "Honestly, this entire thing was just a drag and boring. I wouldn't even be fighting if it wasn't for the fact that the headmaster forced us with vague threats of expulsion and so on. And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who just didn't feel like being forced to duel in front of thousands of people like some kind of magical gladiators and I'm not really in the mood to pretend to care about any of it. So, let's just call it a day and save ourselves the trouble. I'd rather focus on something less bothersome. Life is too short for this. I forfeit."

And just like that the boy left the arena, leaving behind a sea of bewildered but entertained spectators. Alastor had to repress the urge to burst into laughter at the boy's sass, even if the air around Dumbledore was getting heavier with his barely restrained magic. Yeah, the boy had got one over the headmaster again. 

Alastor had a bad feeling about this. This definitely wasn't going to end well.

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AN: This was pretty hard to write. Please let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions.

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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.


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