Task Training and Wand Weighing (Part Four)

Harry was just finishing up his morning routine with Tonks when Colin Creevy came running up to them breathing hard. "Har…ry…hi! I've…been…looking for you! Weighing…Wands…need you. Come on!"

Tonks raised her eyebrows at the third year while Harry cocked his head trying to puzzle out just what Colin was saying. "Creevy," Tonks said, "hold up. Catch your breath. Now, let's try this again. What do you need Harry for?"

Colin still panted but could at least talk again. "The Weighing of the Wands. For the Tournament. He was supposed to be in Potions but Snape said he wasn't there. We're supposed to be up in the classroom in a few minutes."

Tonks shrugged. "Well they're not going to start without him. Guess we're done for the morning, Harry. Don't do anything I wouldn't do! Try not to kill whichever reporter attempts to swipe you. That tends to reflect badly in the articles."

"Haha, Tonks," Harry deadpanned. He wiped his face with a conjured towel then walked over to the younger boy. "Well lead the way, Colin."

"Follow me, Harry! I can't believe you're in this! This is so amazing! Is it true that you're also the Heir Black? Because if you are you know that means you need a second relationship and you know people talk and everything and it's just, well, that opens up a lot of options you know." Harry nodded along politely and decided that Colin could give Hermione a run for her money with 'the amount of words uttered without breathing' award. He completely missed Tonks hysterical giggles and Colin's blushing look.

"So, Colin, I imagine they're going to have a photographer but considering some of the articles that the Prophet puts out I'd prefer to have some counters in the Quibbler. Luna's in class, but they already pulled you out. You want to sign up as my official photographer?" Harry asked.

His eyes widened and he gushed, "Really, Harry?! You want me!?"

"Sure, might as well," Harry shrugged. Colin turned bright red and mumbled an acceptance. Harry couldn't help but think he was missing something…

The two walked into the classroom that Colin indicated and Harry waved hello to the other three Champions talking in the corner. Harry started to walk towards them when he was waylaid by a woman in acid green robes and horrible horn-rimmed glasses. "Mr. Potter! Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet. So glad you could make it! You must be ever so enthused to be the Hogwarts Champion. Come, come with me. We need to get an interview before the ceremony starts."

Harry narrowed his eyes as the woman dragged him away and towards a broom closet. "If you want an interview I'd prefer it to be in the corner. Well within sight of the rest of the room, Ms. Skeeter."

"Oh don't worry, Harry, I won't do anything untoward with you," she said with a horribly false giggle. She opened the door to the closet and started to pull him inside. Harry noticed Fleur's face set in an angry snarl as she pushed off from the wall.

Before Skeeter could get him in, Harry pulled free from her grip and crossed his arms stepping back. "Ms. Skeeter, I am not remotely comfortable with being out of sight with you. If you want an interview it will be out here."

Skeeter's smile faltered before she plastered it back on her face and whipped out a green quill setting it on a piece of parchment hovering to her side. "Well from what I hear, Harry, you seem to enjoy being alone with older women. Professor Babbling, Auror Tonks, Fleur Delacour…why it's almost as if you're seeking out the company of these aged witches. I just assumed that you would enjoy my own company as well."

Harry scowled and behind him he heard Fleur snarl low. He felt a slight push on his mind and recognized the feeling of her letting her control of her Allure slip. As amusing as watching his friend roast this woman alive would be, he decided to nip this in the bud himself. And Skeeter had insulted Shiva. Marge had made that mistake too. "Ms. Skeeter, how about I give you a statement just so we are absolutely clear? Former Auror Tonks has been my friend for years and is currently my primary tutor for this Tournament. Fleur Delacour has been a friend since we helped each other survive a terrorist attack at the Quidditch World Cup and is a fellow Champion who is also helping me to learn enough to survive this competition. Professor Bathsheda Babbling has been my legal guardian for years and was my mentor prior to that. I advise you to destroy whatever your Quick Quotes Quill wrote and report that statement exactly as I stated and intended it. The last person who made the mistake of insinuating I was in an intimate relationship with the woman who has been the closest thing to a mother I've ever known was blasted into a wall with 10 broken bones."

Skeeter's eyes narrowed. "The people have a right to the truth, Harry," she said uttering the much hated battle cry of the reporter.

"I've read your 'truth', Ms. Skeeter. I think even Voldemort tells the truth more often than you do," he sneered, twisted on his heel and walked away, extraordinarily happy with the flinch he'd received from mentioning the Dark Lord.

Fleur stepped up into the spot Harry had just vacated. " 'arry is not ze only one who takes offense to illicit allegations. I recommend you report ze facts." She conjured a ball of…passionfyre…and idly lobbed it from hand to hand before letting it dissipate. "Insulting me is somezing I am used to. Insulting my friends zough…zat I do not take sitting down."

Skeeter snorted at the two teenagers as they walked away. "Fools," she muttered. "Everyone knows the quill is mightier than the wand."

Fleur was pleasantly surprised when she walked back up to the other Champions and Harry hugged her. "Thanks for having my back," he whispered. Pulling back he gave her a wry grin. "And thanks for not setting her on fire. I'd hate to have to try and deal with that fallout."

Krum nodded. "Yes. If ve are to dispose of the trash ve should do it somvere more private." The other three looked at him wide eyed before all four started laughing at his joke.

They were still laughing as Umbridge, Bagman and the Headmasters walked into the room with Ollivander following along behind. Umbridge's face took on a distinctly sour expression as she saw the Champions actually enjoying each other's company and Harry rolled his eyes at her upturned nose.

"I see everyone is here. Excellent!" Bagman said with a grand smile and a flourish to the front of the room. "Now without further ado let's start the Weighing of the Wands! Mr. Potter, let's get you up here first."

Shaking his head in annoyance Harry started forward and joined Ollivander, handing over his wand when asked. Ollivander's inspection of his wand made Harry feel a bit creeped out. The way the man handled the stick of wood seemed almost…sensuous. Everything was pronounced in good working order shortly enough however and things went well for Fred too. Krum looked mildly annoyed as Ollivander put down the manufacturer of his wand but held his tongue.

Fleur though…Fleur was not the only one angered by the wand maker's comments towards her. "Who cares if her wand has a Veela core?" Harry couldn't help himself from blurting out. Most eyes in the room turned to him. Inwardly Harry cringed but he kept up his annoyed glare on the outside. "I mean, it obviously works very well for her. Is there really any reason to comment on Veela hairs being temperamental other than to deliver a backhanded insult? We already have Umbridge for those. We don't need another."

Umbridge's smile widened sending shivers down Harry's back. "Why dear boy, you must be mistake." She gave her horrid little giggle. "I would never insult proper purebloods. Why just look at Mr. Krum! His wand was obviously the highlight of the showings today." The implications that the other three Champions didn't fall under her aegis of being 'proper purebloods' wasn't lost on anyone except Bagman. And maybe Dumbledore whose distant expression never once changed.

Fleur took her wand back from Ollivander and nodded sharply. "Zank you, 'arry. At least some of ze Eenglish know 'ow to be polite."

Maxime stepped forward. "Eef we are done exchanging barbs perhaps it iz time to take ze pictures."

Harry groaned and moved where the photographer, Bozo, and Skeeter directed them. They kept trying to shift him to the front but he had managed to mostly avoid it through the majority of the pictures. It took almost half an hour before they quit snapping shots and Harry was able to wrangle the others for a few quick shots from Colin. The younger boy hurried away calling out that he'd be sure to get them to Luna for her article.

The four Champions walked out of the room together chatting amicably. Rita tried one last time to cut them off but they just parted and walked passed her completely ignoring the woman. As they reached the door, Viktor tossed out a final comment to set the reporter's blood boiling. "So, may I give an interview to this Quibbler as vell?"

Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Dark Lord Voldemort, was in the middle of a rather frustrating day. He was currently propped up against the back of the armchair with Wormtail holding a communication mirror in front of him. As if this wasn't annoying enough that he couldn't hold the thing himself, the fact that Wormtail was shaking so much the view kept shifting was almost enough to have Voldemort sending another Crucio into the fool. Sadly he'd have to wait – it wouldn't do to break the mirror until after he'd finished his conversation after all.

"Barty," Voldemort said slowly and in a voice barely above a whisper. He didn't dare try to shout as this homunculus form wasn't quite capable of managing that and still conveying his displeasure. "What do you mean, the boy will likely die? I thought I sent you there to ensure that Potter would be delivered to me?"

The form of Barty Crouch Jr. shifted uncomfortably on the other side of the glass. "Master, I've been going over everything. There's simply no way for me to discreetly assist the brat during this Task. That bitch Umbridge is listening too closely to Dumbledore's 'suggestions'. There's going to be a ward that prevents anything and everything from getting through and if I do anything to the arena before it starts we tip our hand and it could ruin everything. Master…if I may…if the boy dies during these Tasks…wouldn't it just prove that he wasn't worthy of being the source of your new blood to begin with?"

Voldemort snarled. He was right of course, but there was certainly no way that Barty would be told that until Voldemort could present it as his own idea first. "He has insulted me and I wish to repay that insult. I suppose…if the boy were to be horribly torn apart limb by limb in front of his friends and family during a Ministry sponsored event...that might make my recruitment simpler and would certainly demoralize the opposition. What creature did you say he'd be facing?" It would have to be suitably impressive to make up for the lack of a personal kill after all. Something like a nundu would do nicely.

"They've acquired a manticore, a hydra, a dragon and a Greek chimera, Master," Barty said smiling.

Voldemort's eyes widened. "A true chimera?"

"Yes, Master. The rumor is they've already lost a handler trying to coral it into the transport."

Voldemort laughed. He couldn't help it; this made up for the problems he'd been having recently. Oh this would be fun to watch! "See that he faces the chimera, Barty. Should he by some miracle survive…well all the better to cement the loyalty of my Death Eaters again when I kill him."

"It will be done, Master."

"Do try to ascertain that at least one of the fools survives. I would hate to have to abduct some random wizard on the night of the Final Task."

"Don't worry, Master, the solstice ritual will not have any problems. While the other Hogwarts Champion appears to be a joke, the Durmstrang one is promising. And the half-breed also appears competent from the few times I've been able to catch her training."

"Would Krum work as the sacrifice?" Voldemort mused out loud. He couldn't remember making any enemies of a Krum family, but there were so many names and it was so long ago. It was possible he'd killed a relative or two.

"I managed to speak with him several days ago, Master. He should do fine if required. The boy is powerful and smart, but he cares little for things beyond flying and being able to protect himself it seems. He is starting to befriend Potter as well and he seems to have no love for our beliefs."

"Very well." Voldemort waved his small hand in dismissal. "Do you have anything further to report?"

Barty hesitated causing Voldemort's eyes to narrow. Before the Dark Lord could comment though, Barty began to speak, "Master, Potter has acquired the services of a Metamorphmagus former Auror. The half-blood daughter of the Blood Traitor Andromeda. Nymphadora Tonks is skilled but…that is not why I bring it up. Moody was apparently her mentor. The paranoid old man surely has some method in place to let other Aurors know if he was compromised. While Dumbledore has fallen for the ruse easily enough, I…feel I'll have a harder time convincing her." He wrung his hands and scowled. "I tried asking Moody but the man has the damnable training at evading Veritaserum questions! Without the specific wording to force him into the right corner I'll never get enough to make certain all the bases are covered and I need to save the little Veritaserum remaining. I've been avoiding the half-blood in the meantime."

Voldemort nodded. "Very well. I've heard of this particular Auror. She is a fool and incompetent. She may have battle skills but nothing more. She won't be a threat. Avoid exposure at all costs. If you have to eliminate her, but be certain to cast the light on another. Perhaps Karkaroff. The fool had the audacity to turn on several of your brethren."

"Yes, Master."

"Barty," Voldemort said, "don't act against her unless forced. We don't want to stumble after nearly 13 years of biding our time now do we? The timing is nearly perfect for my rebirth and I don't want anything mucking it up at the last minute. Do. Not. Fail. Me. Or you will beg for death."

Barty nodded and bowed low. "I will make you proud, Master." The mirror blanked and Voldemort leaned back into the seat. He scowled down at Wormtail and dismissed the rat. So hard to find good help these days. At least Barty was competent.

Nagini slithered up and wrapped several coils in front of him. Voldemort smiled as he reached out to stroke his familiar. The Potter boy had performed impressive feats before. Perhaps he would survive. A shame Voldemort couldn't convert him to the correct side. Once he regained his body, if the boy was still alive then he'd probe the brat and see if there was some trigger he could use. Supposedly the Muggle relatives had been abandoned. That avenue was rather useless. There would likely be something he cared for though. Something Voldemort could give him or take away. Ah, no point in worrying about it now.

Harry Potter would sadly be dead by the end of the week after all. At least he could claim it was by his own hand after his orders to Barty.