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Angry Harry and the Seven by Sinyk

Hey Guys, this story is written by Sinyk on fanfic net. This is not my work. The only reason I am putting this up is because someone has copied Sinyk's entire work word-for-word on this site (claiming it as his own: Harry Potter and the 7 angers), releasing it at a snail's pace, and is also making money off of it on patreon. Pisses me off to no end. Art is by CruderFive1 on DeviantArt ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay, guys and... guyettes, This one is of epic length. And by that I mean really really long. For those who sent me a note about 'Four Heirs' and thought it long - well, this one blows that one out of the water for length. So, if something only up to - say - 150k words is your cup o' tea, then this isn't for you. No sir-ree! This story hits approximately 480k words. To stop all the whining and bitching right now - yeah, like that's ever going to happen - you'll figure out this is a 'Haphne' story; Dumbledore is (somewhat) good but still manipulative as per canon; Ron's an ineffective non-entity; Snape tries to keep sticking his beak in - and get's it repeatedly thwacked with a rolled-up newspaper; McGonagall gets over her hero-worship of DumDum (I mean, Dumbledore); Hermione is a good friend; Sirius is free; kids are kids; and teenagers are walking bags of hormones. The story follows canon a lot; and I've even included many quoted sections out of the books. I didn't do this to pinch JKR's works. Rather, it's in there to demonstrate similarities while being a different story. So, no biatching about that, either. You've been well and truly warned. Yours, Da crazy bastard who thinks he's an author. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

H3llhound2dea1h · Films
Pas assez d’évaluations
87 Chs

Chapter Sixty Three - Investigating

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Sixty Three - Investigating

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

In the other room and quietly waiting, wondering what was taking so long, Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when the door finally opened and threw back her locks of long, silvery hair.

Ludo Bagman entered the room. "Extraordinary!" he muttered, pacing the floor. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen - lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "There is a fourth champion!"

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mister Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. The champions heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "He iz saying zat zere is anuzzer champion!"

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? Or, rather, two competitors? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions - two competitors. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line and other safeguards would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place; though, his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here..."

"Thank you, Severus. That will be enough," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. "The oath young Harry made is quite clear. He did not choose to enter this competition."

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"It was an oath on his magic and his life, Madam!" said Professor McGonagall sharply. "He could not have crossed the Age Line, or bypassed the other protections. I am sure we are all agreed on that..."

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz hiz protections," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have bypassed the protections and his oath confirms it!" She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

"Mister Crouch - Mister Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that, those people whose names' come out of the Goblet of Fire, are bound to compete in the tournament. However, as Mister Potter intimated, it does not mean he is a champion."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff.

He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire, once more, and we will continue adding names until each school have two - competitors. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But, Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament..."

"... In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave with your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was that loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Karkaroff was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" Moody quietly asked. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards..."

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "But - funny thing - I don't hear anyone, other than Professor McGonagall, acknowledging that."

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honour for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Potter neither needs the money nor the fame. He clearly knows that," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl. "Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die in it."

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man - what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered at least six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore; but, no doubt, you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that Goblet..."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" roared Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that Goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament - I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though, of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously..."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember..."

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr..."

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?"

Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie. "Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes - the first task."

He moved forward into the firelight. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin. "Someone will need to pass this information on to Potter," he said.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard - very important.

"The first task will take place on the 24th of November, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions - competitors - are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore; I must get back to the Ministry," replied Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment - I've left young Weatherby in charge. Very enthusiastic - a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" asked Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. They were both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at him. "I am sure Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Cedric nodded and left.

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Harry paced the floor in 'their' room. Daphne sat propped against one of the couches with her arms crossed under her breasts, watching him. She knew not to say anything when Harry was thinking aloud. The others were quietly discussing this latest development and pretending to ignore Harry while he paced.

"Alright," he said. "My name's been entered into a magically binding contract. I didn't enter it, I didn't have anyone else do it for me, and I don't know who did it. Contracts must be willingly entered by all parties. You cannot legally be the unwilling party of a contract. So why am I still bound by it?

"Clearly, the Goblet negates the need for a party to be willingly involved. Or, does it? I need to find out how contracts stood when the Goblet was first created. Maybe they didn't have the condition those involved in the contract had to be willingly involved. It won't then recognise I'm unwilling as it's irrelevant. In which case, I won't know one way or the other until I would otherwise lose my magic. Damn!

"Maybe the Goblet recognises changes to magical law and, because I was unwillingly entered, it now won't force me to compete. No, if that was the case, it wouldn't have spat my name out in the first place. Therefore, the Goblet recognises I'm held to the contract. Double damn!

"Hang on, what was the name on the slip of parchment that came out of the Goblet? Was it 'Harry Potter' or 'Harry James Potter'? Perhaps, that means there's a Harry Potter out there without a middle name who's required to compete in the tournament. Plus, there seemed to be no school written on the slip of paper, as Dumbledore didn't call one out. Everyone who wanted to submit their name was required to write both their name and school on the slip. If Harry Potter, whoever he is, doesn't attend a school, he cannot very well write the name of a school upon it.

"But, did Diggory, Krum or that French bint include their middle names when they submitted their slips? I need to ask them. If they didn't, then it's not really going to matter if my middle name was on the slip or not.

"And the school? Invisible ink, perhaps? Or a concealing spell? I'll have to give the slip a careful once over. That means I'm going to need to get it off Dumbledore, or get him to check.

"I'm also going to need to read the rules of the tournament, and the wording of the contract if the two are separate documents. Their behaviour, last night, tells me they will be.

"Okay, that means I need to: One - ask for a copy of both the contract and rules and read over them. Two - ask the other three if they submitted their slips with their middle names on them; if they have middle names. Three - get the slip off Dumbledore and, between us, check to see if the name of the school is written on the slip. And, four - check if there are other Harry Potters out there that may be bound by the contract."

"Then it sounds as if you have a course of action to proceed," said Daphne, finally speaking up. "Perhaps we should leave it at that until you've gone through those points."

Harry sighed and said, "Yeah, I suppose. I still wonder why someone would go to all the effort, though."

"I think it's obvious," replied Daphne, wryly and unhappily. "Someone wants you to be killed."

Harry snorted and said, "Yeah, but it sounds like a lot of hard work just to get me dead. Hell, anyone stepping out from behind a tree, firing the Killing Curse at me, and running away, would accomplish the same thing for a great deal less effort."

"First thing, though, is to contact Uncle Cygnus, Aunt Isabel, Sirius, Aunt Amelia and Gran," said Hermione, from where she was sitting at one of the study tables. "I've started writing down what we're going to need them to get for us.

"One," said Hermione, getting things back on track. "Notifying Harry's guardians is our first priority.

"Two - Legal representation to go over the contract and rules that bind you to participating in the tournament. And if there's anything else you need to do besides compete in the tasks..."

"What do you mean, 'anything else'?" asked Harry.

"Well, Dumbledore tried to get you to go into the champions room with the other - I mean, the three champions," she replied. "What if the contract states you had to do that? Plus, there could be other things you have to do besides compete. In the muggle world, there are often publicity functions you're required to attend that are included in such contracts. We need to find out what you're actually required to do."

"And what does it mean by 'compete'?" asked Daphne. "If he steps in to the ring - or, whatever - and forfeits; could that be considered competing? Or, does he have to make a good old 'go' of it, in the spirit of the tournament? Can he also drop out at any time after he begins?"

"And what if he's injured and unable to continue, or even start?" asked Susan. "Surely, they wouldn't be that stupid as to leave something like that out."

Everyone just looked back at her.

"Then again, maybe they are," she said.

Hermione gave a little throat cough and said, "Three - besides legal representation looking over the contract and rules, we need to do it, too."

"Four - As this could turn into a nightmare, publicity-wise, can we hire a public relations expert or media advisor? Is one even allowed?"

"I could do that," said Luna wistfully.

Harry stared back at the girl for a few moments before he grinned. "Luna, how would you like to buy the exclusive rights to Harry James Potter, otherwise known by the appellation The-Boy-Who-Lived?"

Everyone but Luna looked back at Harry in shock. Daphne did for a few moments before she suddenly started to grin. Then Tracey followed suit.

Luna thought a moment and said, "That depends on what you mean by 'exclusive rights', Harry. Are we just talking as in regards to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or beyond that? And, just the story, or are we including pictures and other images? Are we talking wizarding Britain only, or world-wide? And, finally, what about merchandise?"

Harry grinned, while Daphne and Tracey laughed. The others just looked stunned that something that serious could ever be uttered by dreamy little Luna.

"Well," replied Harry. "I see I'm dealing with a wise negotiator."

Musing, he said, "How about exclusive rights to use my name in any form - including, but not limited to - Harry Potter, Harry James Potter, Harry J Potter, and H J Potter; any appellations that would identify me specifically, including but not limited to The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Man-Who-Lived, the Potter Boy, Heir Potter, the Potter Heir and the betrothed of Daphne Greengrass; my image or likeness in any form, including but not limited to photographic, portraiture, caricature, artistic rendering, toy and model.

"The exclusive rights will cover all media, including but not limited to the printed word such as newspapers and magazines, radio such as wizarding radio, posters, books, games, toys and memorabilia.

"Coverage will be world-wide. And time scale will be - for the 1994-95 school year, inclusive. We can revisit it, after then, to see if we are both happy with the arrangement."

"Further conditions are: Everything you print or publish about me will be the truth. You may not embellish with unconfirmed or unsubstantiated claims. Further, it must not lead to your readership being misled as to the truth.

"To sweeten the pot, I'll also allow you to on sell these exclusive rights so long as the aforementioned conditions are kept, verbatim. However, you may only ask for no more than one Galleon for the rights. And, furthermore, I shall make myself available to you, at a minimum, of three one-on-one interviews for the duration of the contract.

"As for how much this will cost you; I believe I'm being fair in asking in return - five Knuts. What say you, Miss Lovegood?"

Harry heard someone, he thought Hermione, give a strangled cough.

Luna seemed to think about it for a while before she replied, "I think our readers may be more interested in reading how the search for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks is faring, and about our ongoing investigation into the Minister's secret army of Heliopaths, rather than read much about you, Harry. I think a fairer price would be - two Knuts."

"Harsh, woman," retorted Harry, having a ball. "However, you may be right. Four Knuts."

"Let us not - quibble, Harry," she replied with a smirk of her own. "Three Knuts is a fair price for a friend."

Harry mock-sighed and said, "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Lovegood. Three Knuts, it is. However, I must insist it be my own legal representation who draws up the contract."

"I suppose I can allow that," she said. "But, I - or another representative of Lovegood Publishing - may seek to make minor amendments before agreeing in writing. Be that as it may, we have an agreement in principle."

Then they both just grinned at each other.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" asked Neville, stunned, as they stopped talking for a few moments.

Daphne just burst into laughter before she said, "Harry just figured out a way to stop people in the media writing about him for the rest of the school year."

"Alright," said Harry calming down from his own laughter. "Hermione's been most patient with us. But, I've some work to do tonight before I can think of heading for bed." Looking over at Hermione, who had a pleased smile on her face, he asked, "Hermione? What do I need to do?"

"It's 'we', Harry; what do we need to do," she corrected. "We need to write to Uncle Cygnus, Aunty Isabel, Sirius, Madam Longbottom and Aunt Amelia. In one of those letters, we need one of them to organise legal representation for you ready to go over the contract and rules. That's all for tonight.

"Tomorrow, however, we need to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore to get a copy of both the rules of the tournament, and the contract that states you must compete; and the slip of paper on which your name was written. Or, at least get him to see if it provides any clue as to how it ended up in the Goblet. What comes after that will be, what will be. Agreed?"

"Agreed," they all said one way or another.

"Then, you'd better come over here and get writing, Harry," she said, indicating the study area next to her own.

Harry rose and made his way over.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

On entering the Great Hall in the morning, Harry made his way directly to the head table. Dumbledore was already there.

"Headmaster," said Harry.

"Ah; Harry, my..." the old man started, before seeing the glare Harry was directing at him with his aura flaring and his eyes glowing.

"Oh - erm - of course," he tried again, clearing his throat. "What can I do for you, Mister Potter?"

Harry immediately returned his face to calmness and his aura to fade before asking, "The slip of parchment ejected by the Goblet last night, Headmaster."

"Erm - What about it, Mister Potter?" asked Dumbledore, politely.

"I am interested to know if you have performed any scans, or other tests, upon the slip in investigating how it is it - A - came to be in the Goblet in the first place, and - B - came to be ejected as a fourth competitor in what is supposed to be a three competitor only competition?"

"Erm - perhaps this is something we should discuss in my office..." he tried while starting to rise.

"No!" interrupted Harry with another glare and another flare. "You know that is not possible, Headmaster. However, I do believe my guardians - all of them - will be along soon enough. I dare say within an hour or three. If you wish us all to then take this discussion to your office, with the approval and accompaniment of my guardians, I will be happy to do so.

"However, I am hoping to - derail - what will surely be a heated exchange of words by gathering intelligence in advance of that happening. If you do not wish to aid me in this, then I shall simply let things play out as they surely will. I am offering you my hand in solving this matter before it escalates too far. Please, do not make me regret it."

Dumbledore sighed and said, "I would accept your offer, Mister Potter; however, I do not believe we would be able to solve this - dilemma before they would arrive."

"Perhaps not," said Harry. "However, clear and open signs that investigative actions are taking place would go a long way towards mollifying tempers before they have a chance to fully erupt. Would you not agree, Headmaster?"

"I would," replied the Headmaster with a sigh. "Then, in the interests of being open, I'm letting you know the following facts. The name on the slip appears to be written in your hand. There is no school mentioned on the slip, as was required - we checked all magical methods of hiding the name. The slip also appears to have been torn from the bottom left hand corner of a larger slip of parchment. The ink is the same brand and quality you've used for your assignments, and on close inspection, does not appear to have been written using a quill."

Frowning, Harry thought about that for a few moments before he said, "The bottom left - that it was written in my hand - that it was not written using a quill - and you do not know the manufacture of the ink - immediately tells me it was torn off the bottom of an assignment.

"Now, how did I write my name, and was there any other ink marks or symbols at the end of the name?" asked Harry, frowning and thinking hard.

"By hand, Mister Potter," replied Dumbledore. "And, I do not recall any other ink marks, smudges or anything else?"

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his right hand. "My apologies for not being clearer. I meant; did I supposedly write 'Harry James Potter', 'Harry J Potter', 'Harry Potter', 'H J Potter', 'Mister Harry James Potter', et cetera?"

"Ah!" said Dumbledore. "It's just 'Harry Potter'; nothing else."

"Then it was definitely torn off the bottom of an assignment," said Harry. "I was advised years ago never to use my full name or title on any document unless I knew I was signing a contract. Any correspondence I send home will only ever have 'Harry', or just HP, on it. And any official correspondence will always have 'Mister Harry J Potter' on it. So, I shall be going through my returned assignments to see what, if anything, is missing. I hope you will be investigating the teaching staff for copies of my assignments they may still have."

Surprised, the old man nodded.

"Now, I assume from what you have said that there was no school name written on the parchment as was required for my name to be submitted?"

"No; no name of the school was detected. Even after checking for a magically hidden name."

"How about if they used muggle means to hide it?"

"Pardon, Ha - Mister Potter?" asked the old man, clearly surprised by the question.

"Muggle means," said Harry. "For instance; could it have been written in water, or other liquid substance that faded away? Muggles have been doing that sort of thing for decades. Have you looked to see if there is an impression on the parchment of a quill pressing down as it was used to write on it? Other than my name, of course."

"Errr - no," replied Dumbledore. "I shall check that as soon as I return to my office."

Harry nodded and said, "Thank you. Further, as I've now been unwillingly roped into this thing, I will need a copy of both the contract and the rules. Verified copies, of course. And, my guardians will also want one for my legal counsel. May I trust they will be made available before my guardians come storming in through the doors?"

"I shall make them available to you in my office immediately after breakfast, Mister Potter," replied the old man.

"Thank you," said Harry. "I shall see them collected from you then."

He thought, 'Nice try in getting me into your office alone, old man. Won't work, though.'

"I shall need the password for the gargoyle, sir."

"Ah," said the Headmaster, erroneously happy. "It's 'gummy bears' today, Mister Potter."

"Thank you, Sir," said Harry with a tiny bow. "Then I shall leave you to completing the breaking of your fast while I begin my own." And he walked off to the Slytherin table where his friends were sitting, that morning.

As he was sitting down, Daphne quietly asked, "Is everything alright?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah, just trying to dig up more information on what happened. Whoever it was, tore my name off the bottom of one of my school assignments and submitted that. Dumbledore needs to make more checks on the piece of parchment before he's completed it; but, he's not found any evidence yet."

Turning to Neville, he asked, "Nev, can you go up to the headmaster's office after you've finished your breakfast - and the old man has already left - to collect at least one, preferably two, copies of the contract and the rules? He's expecting me to go up but, of course, I cannot."

"Yeah, mate," said Neville. "I can do that. Meeting in the Come and Go Room straight after that?"

"Yeah, I think so," replied Harry. "The password to get past the gargoyle at the bottom of the headmaster's stairs is 'gummy bears'."

Neville nodded and said, "Got it. I'll be as quick as I can."

"Don't forget your Occlumency shields, Nev," Harry warned.

"I won't," grinned the other boy, a little evilly. "I'll be setting them to 'pain' before I go up."

Harry grinned back.

When Dumbledore left about five minutes later, and Neville about five minutes after that, Hermione asked, "Harry, what did Neville mean by setting his Occlumency shields to 'pain'?"

"Well," he replied. "Our so-called Leader of the Light and Headmaster, has the very bad and illegal habit of scanning the minds of his students - minors - without even asking permission first. If he tries it on Neville, he is in for a very rude shock."

Hermione frowned and plaintively asked, "He wouldn't really do that, would he? It would be a horrendous breach of both privacy and trust. Plus, it's illegal."

"Well, the whole thing about Occlumency shields is, if Neville sets his shields to hurt an intruder, no one would know they're there until they actually try to intrude," explained Harry. "If the Headmaster does not make the attempt, he will never know. However, if he does, both he and Neville will know it instantly.

"Neville will feel the attempt and, depending on how severe Neville means by 'pain', the Headmaster will end up with a very bad headache at minimum. If I was Neville, I'd then scream and shout at the man and, at my first opportunity, let Gran know what he did.

"Now, with my guardians soon to be here, I have no doubt there will be further shouting directed at our dear Headmaster. He will not be having a pleasant day, today; no matter how many pain relieving potions he chugs down."

"But is that fair on him?" she asked.

"Hermione," replied Harry. "You saw me stand two nights ago and warn him, in front of the entire school population, that he needed to beef security around the Goblet. I even gave examples of how to submit someone else's name. He clearly did not take my warnings to heart. Hell, putting a couple of people on guard would have stopped it. Or, only have it available for people to submit their names for the last hour before the draw, even.

"And, now, I'm the poor schmuck who gets to pay for his failure; possibly with my very life. I'm not in a forgiving mood when it comes to the old fart. And, whatever difficulties are about to befall him, I'll be on the sidelines cheering for more to be piled on."

Hermione sighed in apparent sorrow for the man. Harry didn't care.

"If everyone's finished," interrupted Hannah, "Shall we go upstairs?"

With nods all round, the group rose and made their way out of the Hall.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Just after the group, minus Neville, entered the Come and Go Room, Harry's mirror buzzed and turned warm in his pocket.

"Wait, guys," he said, drawing the mirror out of his pocket. "Sirius is mirror calling me."

Flipping it open and whispering 'Padfoot' to the surface, the grey mist cleared and formed into the face of his godfather. "Hey, pup. We got your owls."

"I take it steps are currently being taken?" asked Harry.

"Yep. Cygnus is contacting a suitable lawyer with expertise in magical contracts," replied Sirius. "Once we have someone, we'll be hurrying with all due haste to the school. I don't know how long it's going to take, but it'll definitely be today."

"Thanks, Sirius," said a more relieved Harry. "I'm also in the process of getting a copy of both the contract that binds this thing, together with the rules of the tournament. We'll be going over those while we wait."

"Good idea," replied Sirius. "But, leave it to the legalist to actually argue the specifics of the contract and rules; alright, Harry?"

"We'll be talking about them between us, here," replied Harry. "I have no intention of arguing with the staff or Ministry personnel about them, though. I'm more than happy to leave that up to the experts."

"Good," said his godfather. "I'll contact you again when we're ready to floo over. Until then, keep your head down and try not to lose your temper, alright? It could do more harm than good."

"I'll give it my best," replied Harry. "Talk to you later."

"You, too, pup," replied the image before it faded back to grey.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Neville arrived about ten minutes later with a copy of the contract and rules. He told them the old man did not try to read his mind but he did feel a slight tickle of passive Legilimency, which was very quickly withdrawn.

"He also had the piece of parchment that had Harry's name written on it," said Neville. "And he said to say there was an indentation directly below Harry's name. Dumbledore then used some of Fawkes's old ash and lightly brushed it over the surface to make it show up. The name of the school was 'A Silly Name School'. Oh, and he said he's also going to see if he can find the person who's hand the name of the school is written in."

"Clearly, a fake," snorted Harry. "Anything else?"

"Only that he was disappointed you sent me to collect the documents," said Neville with a grin. "He asked me why you had so little faith him."

"And?" grinned Harry.

"I replied that part of it could be how he can't resist trying to illegally probe people's minds," laughed the other boy. "That gave him a bit of a shock."

Harry laughed as Neville sat down and laid the contract and rules on the table before them. Daphne immediately picked up the contract, while Hermione grabbed the rules. Both avidly read the documents in their hands.

"Alright, then. There was a name of a school written on the slip. However, the school does not even exist. So, there's no need to check if they have a student named Harry Potter. Therefore, that's out. Dumbledore is going to see if he can track down in whose hand the name of the school is written, but that does me no good."

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

\""/

Once again this is not my work. Original work is written by Sinyk on fanfic.net

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