Capítulo 134: The Arrival
Somewhere in the Norwegian Sea, Oct 30th
"Fucking ancient enchantments!" Harry spat angrily. "I could cast a better water repelling charm as a second year!"
While the trip to Hogwarts had begun with a great deal of enthusiasm, four hours into the journey tempers were starting to flare. The Highmaster and his aide had left the 'best and brightest of Durmstrang' to steer the ship and maintain the protective spells that kept the water from crushing them as they traveled beneath the waves.
Whoever had originally created the Durmstrang ship was either far ahead of his time, or a complete fucking lunatic. The ship acted like a gigantic, slow-moving, Portkey. Once activated, the ship would generate a massive whirlpool that would allow the vessel to be transported anywhere there was a sizable amount of water for it to emerge. Unfortunately, the manner in which it did so made Portkey travel seem like a casual trip through the floo.
"Harry!" Viktor shouted from the steering wheel. "Another enchantment has failed on the lower deck! Can you patch it up?"
"How much longer till we get to Hogwarts, Viktor?" Harry demanded, his entire body drenched from head to toe. "This piece of shit is falling apart all around us!"
Viktor glanced at an instrument near the wheel before saying, "Either twenty minutes or twenty-two thousand seconds. The counter keeps flipping between the two numbers."
As he was in the best physical shape, Viktor had been unanimously named the ship's captain. Since some magic could interfere with the very old instruments, and the ship needed to be kept on a very tight course, there were few who were up to the physical challenge to man the wheel except Viktor.
Harry could tell his friend was strained, but he could hardly sympathize. As one of the best at enchanting, he had been placed on a team that was responsible for plugging any breaks in the ship's enchantments. The old boat was held together by magic and a cascading failure of the enchantments was as good as a death sentence for everyone. There was no telling where the whirlpool would deposit them if the boat broke apart.
"Calypso, Esmeralda!" Viktor snapped. "I need you to go vanish the water in the lower cabins so Harry can fix the enchantments."
Scowling, the two girls followed Harry down into the lower deck of the Durmstrang ship. All around them students waved their wands, sticking charms keeping their feet firmly attached to the ship's floor as it twisted around the whirlpool. Reaching the hatch to the lower deck, Harry waved his wand unlocking it, only to be met with a flood of water.
"It's already flooded!" he exclaimed angrily. "Someone needs to correct the enchantments on that warning device."
"We're taking on too much water, we need you to patch the enchantment," Calypso said, trying in vain to hold back the rising water. "You need to go down there, hurry!"
Casting the bubblehead charm, Harry dove into the lower level. Without a sticking charm to keep him in place, his body was rocked back and forth with the ship.
Fortunately, finding the broken enchantment was fairly easy; all he had to do was focus on where the water was pushing against him the strongest. Eventually, he found one of the unbreakable charms on a porthole had failed. Swimming close to the wall, he rapidly fixed the enchantment before beginning to vanish the excess water around him.
Ten minutes later, a soaked Harry Potter walked back onto the deck.
Before he could say anything, Viktor said, "We'll be there soon. The numbers have begun rapidly decreasing, maybe two to three minutes. Do me a favor and alert the Highmaster, Harry."
Exhausted, but not in the mood to argue, Harry knocked patiently on the Highmaster's door.
"Come!"
Pushing the door open, Harry was momentarily stunned with the luxurious accommodations of the Highmaster's suite. While the majority of the ship was circa 14th century, the Highmaster's quarters had apparently been updated very recently. As soon as he crossed the threshold into the Highmaster's room, the instability from the rocking boat vanished. Stabilization charms kept his feet firmly on the floor, and silencing spells made certain that nothing disturbed the classical music the Highmaster was listening to.
"Yes, Mr. Potter?" Karkaroff asked impatiently.
"I'm sorry, sir," Harry did his best to keep his voice respectful. "Victor says we're almost there. Two minutes."
"Splendid." Looking at Harry's tussled appearance, Karkaroff said, "Do make sure the students change before disembarking. We must look our best."
Gritting his teeth, Harry replied, "Of course, sir."
Leaving the Highmaster, Harry walked back onto the bridge and cast Sonorus. "We're going to arrive in two minutes. The Highmaster reminds everyone to change into their black dress robes before disembarking."
As soon as Harry finished speaking, the boat began to rapidly ascend. Holding onto a railing to avoid falling backwards, Harry felt the ship erupt out of the water before slamming down.
"Please tell me we arrived?"
Stepping down from his spot at the wheel, Viktor said, "You tell me, Harry. Is that Hogwarts?"
Twisting his head, Harry found himself staring up at the majestic view of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Unintentionally, Harry found himself smiling up at the old castle – the view really was impressive. "Yes, that's Hogwarts."
"Alright, everyone downstairs!" Karkaroff walked over and took the helm. "I'll guide us to the dock. I expect everyone ready to disembark within seven minut–"
"Ah-choo!" Viktor sneezed violently. "I apologize, Highmast – Ah-choo! Ugh, I think I caught a cold, sir."
"Not to worry, Viktor," the Highmaster said haughtily, "We'll be inside soon enough." Turning to the rest of the students, Karkaroff snapped, "What are you waiting for? Can't you see Mr. Krum is ill? Hurry up! Move!"
Harry joined the mass of students that hustled down the stairs and into the various cabins. Quickly putting on his black dress robes, Harry was among the first to return to the top of the ship.
Spotting Calypso near the gangplank, he walked over to her.
"It's hard to believe we're actually here."
"We still need to convince the judge to let us compete," she reminded him, her eyes locked on the large group of students that stood outside in perfect lines. "What are they like?"
Seeing where Calypso was looking, Harry scowled. "Terrible. Well," he amended, "not all of them. Nathan is great, and Hermione has some talent. I'm not sure about the upper years, but the Ravenclaws I knew were useless bastards."
"Draco said the only talented wizards were sorted in Slytherin."
Harry laughed. "Yeah, but your cousin is an idiot. I told you how open his mind was to suggestion at the World Cup, right?"
"Yes, you did." A frown crossed Calypso's face. "I have no doubt that Draco will be insufferable at times this year."
"Almost all of them are likely to be insufferable. Are you worried at all?" Seeing Calypso's look of confusion, Harry clarified, "That Draco or someone on the ship will reveal your father being alive."
"No." The finality of Calypso's statement caught Harry a bit off-guard. "Don't worry about that, Harry. I assure you, that has been taken care of a long time ago."
Before Harry could ask what Calypso meant, Karkaroff said, "Everyone forward!"
"Are you going to attend any of the classes at Hogwarts?" Calypso asked, stepping in line behind Harry to get off the ship. "And can you believe we're not allowed to practice the Dark Arts off the ship?"
"Hogwarts does have some good professors," Harry mused. "I'll probably sit in on a few upper year classes and speak to Flitwick, McGonagall, and Snape privately if I have any questions. As far as practicing the Dark Arts, we'll just have to think of something. I don't want to imagine what could happen if a stray spell screws up an enchantment on this old ship."
"Snape was your Occlumency teacher, right?" Calypso asked.
"Yes. He's a very talented Legilimens." Harry's eyes widened slightly and he leaned close to his girlfriend to whisper, "He also knew your brother, so do your best to avoid him."
"Igor!" The imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore greeted, his eyes momentarily flicking over to Harry and Calypso. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I hope your journey from up north was pleasant."
"It was, Albus," Karkaroff replied, stepping forward to embrace the powerful wizard in a hug. "Thank you for hosting this auspicious tournament. Might we move this along, though? I'm afraid Viktor caught a rather frightful cold along the way."
"Of course, Beauxbatons has already arrived. They will be sitting with our Ravenclaws tonight." Dumbledore turned and walked with Karkaroff into Hogwarts. "Do you have a preference?"
"Whatever table is closest to the torches." Karkaroff placed a hand on Viktor's shoulder. "I would hate for Mr. Krum to be uncomfortable."
"Well, why don't you lead your students to the Slytherin table," Dumbledore said, ignoring the slight protest and groans from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.
Scowling, Harry playfully jabbed Viktor in the back. "Way to go, Viktor. My brother's a Gryffindor."
Viktor rolled his eyes. "I'm so sorry my illness has inconvenienced you, Harry."
"Yes, do shut up, Potter," Kira said, taking Viktor's hand, and quickly pulling him over to a corner of the Slytherin table.
Harry watched the two for a few seconds, and he couldn't help but notice the way Viktor seemed to be leaning away from his girlfriend. Whatever Kira was saying, it seemed that Viktor was not in the mood to hear it.
Ignoring the two, Harry and Calypso sat closer to the middle of the table. Slowly, the hall began filling up with Hogwarts students. Catching his brother's eye, Harry smiled and gave a small wave, which was quickly returned. Once the last student had taken a seat, Dumbledore stood up from the high table and complete silence descended across the Great Hall.
"Good evening ladies, gentlemen, ghosts, and – most particularly – honored guests." Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to glow with pride as he surveyed the foreign students, lingering only slightly on Harry. "I have the great pleasure of welcoming you all to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament."
"The tournament will officially be opened at the end of the feast." Dumbledore waved his hand, causing a mass of food to appear across every table. "But, for now, I invite you to eat, drink, reach out to embrace new acquaintances, and enjoy."
As soon as Dumbledore sat, there was a rush of activity as students – particularly those who had worked for hours on the Durmstrang ship – reached out to put food on their plates.
"They seemed to bring in some foreign foods," Harry observed as he placed a large lamb chop onto his dish.
Calypso shrugged uncaringly. "I'd rather Dumbledore just explain the tournament."
"Uh, hi," A wiry brown-haired boy said from down the table. "You're Potter's brother, right?"
His eyes flicking over to the boy, Harry reached out with Legilimency and felt nothing but curiosity from him.
"Yes," he replied in English. "Who are you?"
"Theodore Nott, I'm in your year at Hogwarts. Why are you here? Dumbledore said you had to be seventeen to enter the tournament."
Frowning, Harry was about to reply when Calypso said, "What does it matter how old we are? If we're skilled enough, we should be allowed to compete."
Nott blinked and opened his mouth before thinking better of it and returning to a conversation with a red-haired girl next to him.
Turning to Calypso, Harry felt a slight pull against his mind. Snapping his head to the left, he quickly tracked the source of the intrusion to the Ravenclaw table, specifically the Beauxbatons section. "Veela."
Calypso followed his gaze. "She's not full blooded. They're not allowed at any major wizarding schools. Most likely a half or quarter."
"Viktor," Harry called down the table in Bulgarian. Once he had his friend's attention, Harry said, "There's a part-Veela in the Beauxbatons' delegation."
Viktor's eyes flicked over to the Beauxbatons students, who seemed to realize they were the object of scrutiny from the Durmstrang students. As soon as Viktor spotted the Veela, he felt the allure, shook it off immediately, and nodded politely back at her. Turning back to his girlfriend, Viktor mentally sighed at the outright glare Kira was sending in the girl's direction.
As the evening began to drag on, Harry was starting to wonder if Dumbledore would ever explain the tournament. That was until two people joined the high table. "Calypso," Harry pointed to the taller of the two men, "that's Ludo Bagman, head of Magical Games and Sports for the British Ministry. I'm not sure who the other man is, but he looks like he's from the Ministry as well."
"Do you think they're in charge of choosing the champion?"
Harry shook his head. "No, that doesn't make sense. Karkaroff said the judge would be impartial. There's no way he'd agree to two British Ministry people choosing Dursmtrang's champion."
As the plates were wiped clean of desert, Dumbledore stood up again, causing the entire room to fall silent.
"It is time. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is about to begin. I would first like to explain a few things before we bring in the casket."
Harry shot Calypso with a confused look. "Do you know what he's talking about?"
Calypso simply shook her head.
"But first allow me to introduce Mr. Ludo Bagman, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Mr. Barty Crouch, the head of the Department of International Cooperation. They will be acting, in conjunction with myself, Headmistress Maxime, and Highmaster Karkaroff on the judging panel for the tasks the champions must face."
Harry couldn't help but notice how everyone seemed to grow more attentive at the word 'champions.' Dismissing the wide-eyed hopefuls, Harry listened intently as his grandfather continued.
"Each of the champions will face three challenges that will be spaced throughout the school year. The tests will challenge the champions in many ways, be it magical ability, daring, reasoning, and, of course, courage under extreme danger. In order to obtain true impartiality, the champions will be chosen by a unique arbiter, the Goblet of Fire. Mr. Filch, if you will?"
Harry watched as the Squib pushed a large casket to the center of the Great Hall before Dumbledore dismissed him with a look. With a flick of his wand Dumbledore opened the casket, exposing a large wooden cup encrusted with various gems and engravings along its side. The simple object would have been fairly unimpressive were it not for the large flickering blue and white flames that danced across it.
"To submit your name as champion, you need only write your name and school clearly upon a slip of paper and drop it into the Goblet. Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours to put their names into the cup. After that, the Goblet shall make its decision and choose who is worthy to represent each of our fine schools."
Feeling his heart beat increase with every second, Harry was tempted to stand up and cheer. If the Goblet was half as old as it looked, it was possible Dumbledore wouldn't want to mess with the enchantments on the object. That meant all he had to do was get his name into the Goblet.
"To ensure that no underage student attempts to place their name into the Goblet." Dumbledore's eyes flicked over to Harry and the two stared intently at each other for a moment. "I shall be drawing an Age Line around it. No one under seventeen years of age will be permitted to cross. There shall be no exceptions."
As Dumbledore began carefully casting the age line, Harry felt a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. It didn't take someone of his prodigious talent to recognize a ward, and that's exactly what Dumbledore was casting – a very well-known, but powerful protective ward, originally created to stop small children from entering sections of a house they had no business being in. Harry had run into the ward growing up when his mother used it to protect her Potions lab, but he had never seen one this strong. Dumbledore's age line was visibly etched into the enchanted stone of the Great Hall, and he could feel the waves of magic that were rolling off his grandfather as the ward was set.
"Harry, what's an age line?" Calypso demanded.
"A protective ward." Harry replied stiffly, his mind racing to think of possible ways around it.
Calypso met her boyfriend's eyes intently. "Can we get around it?"
"We'll never break down Dumbledore's ward," Harry said vehemently. "Especially not in the time we have to put our names into the Goblet."
"I didn't ask if it could be broken, I asked if we could beat it," Calypso said as people began standing up to file out of the Great Hall. "Is there a way around the magic?"
"I don't..." Harry trailed off as the solution came to him. Looking up at Dumbledore, a huge smile crossed Harry's face. It was so easy, so ludicrously easy, but he was willing to bet that no one else would think of it. They all saw Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, most powerful wizard alive. What magic could possibly defeat a ward he crafted?
For Harry though, he saw the man who gave him a book of Muggle riddles and logic games on his fifth birthday. He didn't need magic to overcome Dumbledore's age line; he just needed someone to help him get around it.
As everyone began standing up to leave the Main Hall, Harry grinned up at his grandfather. "Viktor!" he shouted over the mass of voices, "I need a favor!"
Before his friend could so much as ask what Harry wanted, Dumbledore had cut his way through the crowd.
"Mr. Potter," The Headmaster's voice was jovial, though there was an underlying hint of reproach. "Welcome back to Hogwarts. Would you mind terribly if we spoke briefly in my office before you retire this evening?"
Knowing that he didn't have much of a choice, Harry nodded politely to his grandfather.
As soon as the two had left, whispered conversation began to spring up. The Hogwarts students were curious about what Harry Potter was doing back at Hogwarts, the Durmstrang delegation confused as to what Albus Dumbledore could want with the talented fourth year, and the Beauxbatons delegation asking the other two schools just who Harry Potter was.
The walk back to Dumbledore's office was done in near silence – the only sound coming from the hushed mumblings of the curious portraits. As they approached the large Gargoyle that protected the Headmaster's office, the stone statue jumped up and allowed Dumbledore to pass without delay.
Following Dumbledore into his office, Harry smiled at the baby Fawkes that was asleep on his perch. The phoenix had obviously just gone through a burning day.
"Take a seat, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly.
Doing as his grandfather instructed, Harry found himself calling upon his Occlumency to calm his nerves. Before he could so much as say anything, though, Dumbledore's door burst open, and Karkaroff walked inside.
"What is going on here, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore smiled indulgently at the Durmstrang Highmaster. "I just wished to have a private word with Harry, Igor. I hope you won't begrudge old family friends from speaking to one another.
"Now see here, Dumbledore," Karkaroff blustered. "Mr. Potter is a student of Durmstrang. I should be informed of any meeting he has with you."
"I do apologize, Igor. Would you like to stay? I should warn you that our conversation is likely to drag on." Dumbledore casually conjured the man a rather rigid looking chair before turning back to his grandson. "Tell me Harry, how is your work in conjuring progressing this semester? I admit, I was rather pleased with your progress over the summer."
"It's going well, sir." Harry did his best to ignore his seething Highmaster, who was openly glaring at Dumbledore. "I attempted to conjure multiple objects recently, though it didn't turn out too well."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh? Do tell? Why, I recall my first attempt at conjuring multiple objects. I was fifteen, and just starting my fifth year. I remember because Sally Wetherford had ju–"
Turning around, Karkaroff opened Dumbledore's door. Pausing in the threshold, he snapped, "Curfew is in thirty minutes, Potter. Do not be late!" Slamming the door behind him, Karkaroff stormed out of the room.
"What an unpleasant man," Dumbledore said candidly once Karkaroff was gone. "Now, I do apologize for my rather abrupt change of topic, Harry, but with what little time we have, I'm afraid I cannot tell you the tale of Sally Wetherford tonight."
"I understand, sir," Harry said, wanting to get to the real conversation himself. "Maybe some other time."
"Perhaps." Dumbledore smiled before growing serious. "I assume you've deduced the apparent flaw in the age line?"
Smirking, Harry replied, "I'm sure Viktor will be more than willing to put my name in, sir. I look forward to being the Durmstrang champion."
"Hardly the action of a champion, Harry," Dumbledore scoffed. "Tell me, if you were listening earlier, what did I say the tournament sought to test?"
Unable to recall a single time he'd heard his grandfather use such a tone, Harry was momentarily stunned. Still, he recovered quickly. "Magical prowess, daring, reasoning, and courage."
"Yes," Dumbledore mused thoughtfully. "Quite the daring move, sneaking into the tournament through a loophole, Harry. And while I will grant you that it shows a certain amount of reasoning, the amount of courage it requires to ask someone to put your name into the tournament is laughable. Of course, we cannot forget the absolute magical mastery you will demonstrate by having someone else put your name in the Goblet. Truly, you are a shoo-in for the Durmstrang Champion."
His face flushing red in embarrassment, Harry refused to back down. "That won't matter once I'm champion. I'll show the world just how talented I am in the tasks themselves."
"Harry," Dumbledore chided. "The Goblet selects the champions based upon those characteristics. Do you truly believe, knowing what you do, that you will be named the Durmstrang Champion if you follow that course of action?"
"I do."
Dumbledore 'tutted' his grandson, clearly disappointed. "Really? Can you think of no one else at Durmstrang that matches those characteristics better than yourself? Perhaps someone who does not wish to compete, but will enter their name begrudgingly because they've thought out the repercussions of not entering? Surely, that person would have daring and reasoning to spare. Should that same person have proven themselves to have courage – maybe in the form of chasing a lifelong dream, even when everyone told him to not to do so. Add to it, a talent – though unappreciated – for magic?"
"You're talking about Viktor," Harry was unable to keep his voice even. He always suspected that Viktor would make a strong candidate for Champion, but he never considered him to be better than himself. "Viktor is my friend, but I would make the better champion."
"No, Harry." Dumbledore gave his grandson a particularly piercing look. "You would make a better competitor. Mr. Krum would make a better champion. Champions do not take the easy path; they travel on the road less traveled. Forging ahead, no matter what obstacles are presented against them."
Harry jerked back as if slapped. "I can win!"
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I have no doubt you would compete admirably, Harry. I am simply pointing out that should you act as you plan, the Goblet would, ultimately, reject you."
"You don't know that," Harry practically spat. "You don't want me to compete. You're trying to stop me from putting my name into the Goblet!"
"I do hope you will reconsider your choice," Dumbledore said pityingly. "And, you are correct, I do not want you to compete. I care for you, Harry, and I do not wish for you to face the life-threatening challenges that the Champions will experience." Reaching out, Dumbledore grasped Harry's hand. "But while I do not want you to participate, I understand your desire to prove yourself, especially here at Hogwarts. Consider this for what it is, Harry – a warning and some advice. If you ask someone else to put your name into the goblet, you will not get what you seek. If you truly wish to become the Durmstrang Champion, you must act in a manner appropriate for it."
"I thought the school heads couldn't give advice to underage students or to students in general?" Harry asked dubiously.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I think you'll find, Harry, that the rule is limited to the students at each Headmaster's school. After all, what possible situation could ever arise where a Headmaster from Hogwarts would seek to assist a student from Durmstrang enter the tournament?"
Unable to sense anything other than truth from his grandfather, Harry smiled at the man in front of him. Idly, he wondered if Dumbledore knew he'd try to come to Hogwarts. Harry wouldn't put it past his grandfather; little seemed to ever surprise the man.
Leaning back in his seat, Dumbledore said, "The hour is approaching, Harry. You should get back to the Durmstrang ship before your curfew. Ultimately, you may do as you wish. The choice, as it always was, is yours. I can only hope that you choose the correct path."
Harry looked outside at the imposing Durmstrang ship on the lake. "Can you answer me one question before I go, sir?"
"Of course."
"Is there another way around the age line?" Turning back to his grandfather, Harry clarified. "A magical way, one that can be accomplished in the time available, and doesn't involve breaking down your ward through brute force."
"Warding, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, a pleased expression crossing his face. "You do manage to keep busy, don't you?"
"Sir... Grampa," Harry amended, his tone pleading. "Is there a way?"
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said truthfully. "There is."
Standing up, Harry's resolve grew. "Then I'm going to find it. I'm the best candidate to represent Durmstrang, and I'm going to prove it to you."
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
a_wizard_did_it
a_wizard_did_it If anyone can figure out how the age line get brownie points.
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