Part 20

your chapter. Next up, 4/50 rocks.

Guys, get more active and I will in turn post more chapters. Comments, saves, gems we need it all. 

Don't forget about mine: 

patreon.com/FanFictionPremium.

There are a lot of stories there (there are free ones). This will help a lot, I don't have as many subscribers as I would like.

---

The school was buzzing with excitement after the announcement of the reward for winning. 100,000 was a lot of money, even many purebloods recognised it. Except that the headmaster had made sure that the trophy was surrounded by a Runes circle with different degrees of protection. Determination by age, by aura, even textual analysis, for the particularly clever. On the first day, the Weasley twins, having drunk the aging potion, went to the goblet and were thrown out at the first stage of defence. Then there was a third year Ravenclaw student. After successfully getting past the age defence, he cut himself off at the aura. He was able to cheat the age defence, but to fake the aura... The level was too high.

There were those who asked others to drop their name. These were the ones for whom the textual analysis was shared by the aura scanner. The magic would match the name and the aura imprint on the parchment and compare it to the thrower. If there was no match, the hapless messenger was thrown outside the circle.

Mephistopheles acted with pomp. He went to the cup in the middle of the day when it was most crowded. The students clamoured. Mephistopheles passed the first circle and entered the second. The defences activated but extinguished a moment later and the Prince quickly jumped to the next level of defence and threw his name into the cup. The students held their breath. The flames rose and... and nothing. The goblet accepted the challenger. The students hummed approvingly, especially Slytherin. The Dumstrangians next to them, on the other hand, frowned. Mephistopheles glared at them with obvious superiority in his eyes and proudly raised his head and walked out of the hall.

The students were wondering how Potter had managed to trick the goblet, and the trick in fact was no trick at all. The age line Mephistopheles had passed legitimately, the auric line had released his aura slightly, but for a moment. That was enough for the cup, but not enough for the castle's security charms to recognise the threat. And textual analysis, of course, showed no abnormalities.

***

The students of Doomstrang and Beauxbaton hung around the castle. While most of them were on their best behaviour, some of them were outright rude and tried to provoke a fight. A couple of times they succeeded and a few Gryffindors went to the hospital wing. Whether they were eliminating rivals or just bored, the situation was heating up.

And so, on one of the romantic evenings, when the moon, a bright disc hung in the sky. And Hermione was walking around the castle, two Bulgarians came at her at once.

- Hey, beautiful! - Both of them knew English. - Is it allowed to walk at night at your place? Maybe I should tell your headmaster about it.

Hermione snorted and gave the guy the middle finger and walked past him. The Bulgarians, who had wanted to take the girl on the run, had failed, but they didn't want to give up.

- Well, if you, girl, don't care, can you keep us company? - The guy switched to a sweet tone.

- I'm not in the habit of walking down dark corridors with strangers," Hermione waved him off and was about to leave, but one of the guys grabbed her around the waist.

- It's not polite," he said in her ear, pulling up her skirt, "we wanted to do it the right way.

- And it turned out badly," the girl replied and elbowed the boy in the jaw. He howled, holding his bloody lips and released the girl.

- Petrificus Totalus," and the Bulgarian, who had no time to react, fell to the floor.

Hermione turned around sharply and swung at the guy a second time and again in the jaw. He swung round and retaliated. Hermione was bent in half from the terrible blow to her stomach, it felt like her ribs were broken. The Bulgarian jumped up and kicked the girl in the face, knocking the brown-haired girl out.

Hermione woke up in an abandoned classroom. Bound and half undressed. The two Bulgarians were grinning at her.

- So, still don't want to do it all yourself? - asked the one she had knocked out with the spell. - You'll do a quick job and then you're free to go.

- That's the first time I've ever seen a suicide bomber so happy. Do you even know who you're on to? - Hermione wasn't going to go along with two idiots. She knew that Harry had set up his trackers in this classroom, and all the abandoned ones, and he was probably on his way here by now. - You have one minute to untie me, apologise, and maybe you'll live.

- You hear that, Stefan? That bitch really did decide that," he wheezed and gurgled. The boy sank heavily to the floor, a blade sticking out of his chest.

- Which one? - The one called Stefan turned round and saw his mate lying on the floor. And standing over him was... The Monster. The Bulgarian didn't have time to say anything else. The tail hit him on the head and his consciousness left him.

Mephistopheles released the girl with a wave of his hand and she began to dress. The prince looked indifferently at the 1 corpse and 1 carcass.

- Do you want to kill him? - Bored tone. The prince regretted that the first guy died too quickly.

- 'Let him be conscious,' Hermione shook with barely contained anger. Mephistopheles brought the boy to his senses and the first thing Stefan saw was the dead body of his mate.

- What are you doing? Do you know what will happen to you? - The boy screamed and shut up, spitting his teeth. Hermione began beating the failed rapist with her legs, occasionally throwing magic blows as well. After a couple of minutes, the student's body resembled a cow carcass in a meat packing plant. The guy was breathing heavily and whimpering.

- Will there be a last word? - Hermione clarified, but heard only pleading. Shrugging, she stepped on his throat, crushing him. The Doomstranger twitched and fell silent.

- What are we going to do? How do we explain it? - Hermione came to her senses.

- We don't. We weren't here. When their wands are checked, they will find an interesting sequence of spells, - said the Prince, conjuring something with the students' wands. - They'll probably conclude that they tried to rape the girl but were rebuffed.

- What about the investigation? I mean, they'll be checking everyone.

- During the tournament, most laws don't apply. They got what they deserved, and legally, you've got nothing to charge you with. But don't confess. I don't see the point. - Mephistopheles threw the wands back to their owners.

***

A double murder rocked the school. Karkaroff had first thought to rage, but as Mephistopheles had said, a check of the wands determined that the two had been repulsed by the victim. There was no need to look for the culprit, tournament, all that.

Mephistopheles had a bigger problem. The animagy of his world was significantly different from the local one, but that wasn't the problem. His totem animal, the murkwolf, and the evolved totemic essence of the kainde admech were now and again in conflict. On his planet, and not only that, there was no such thing. It was the Veela. The specificity of their magic made Murkovol's essence immediately take possession of Veela, and the kainde admecha resisted the attraction and wanted to tear Veela apart.

Mephistopheles had yet to regret having 2 aniforms. Murkovol was dangerous in combat, he could single-handedly slaughter a squad of scouts, slaughter a small village. But he wasn't suited for scouting. It was too big, too heavy, too conspicuous. So the Prince began experimenting with a second essence and developed it as a second aniform. Kainde Admecha could sneak in anywhere unnoticed, was an ideal scout, and as a combat unit, also showed good results.

And now the two entities were in conflict, which caused Mephistopheles to have mood swings, fits of rage and swings in magic. The spells were now and again too powerful. Because of this, the Prince cut his communication with his classmates to a minimum, only continuing to socialise with Hermione, Draco and Daphne. The Ice Queen of Slytherin was generally quite attractive, but Mephistopheles wasn't attracted to her looks, but to her magic. Daphne had the gift of a necromancer, though the girl didn't know it. Her father probably did, but he was damn right not to tell her.

***

And so it was the 22nd of October. The day everyone had been waiting for. Those who had thrown their name in the cup were eager to get into the tournament, those who had placed bets were eager to raise money, the Weasley twins were eager to get rich.

The Great Hall was packed. For the third time this year, the entire school was gathered in the hall, a rarity considering the year had just begun. The Goblet of Fire stood in front of the headmaster. The flames blazed, shimmering with different colours. The whole school held its breath.

Sparks erupted and the first name fell out of the cup. No, a piece of paper didn't fall out, it was just the flames that soared a couple of metres high and formed into the first name.

- The Beauxbaton Champion is Fleur Delacour! - Dumbledore announced. The charming blonde rose from her seat and made her way towards the Headmaster. At his behest, she retreated to an inconspicuous room behind the faculty table.

- The champion of Dumstrang is Victor Krum! - The Bulgarian national team catcher came out on top. The Ministry had wanted to host the Quidditch World Cup finals in England this year, but it hadn't worked out. Crum himself was the best catcher Bulgaria had had in the last 150 years. Interestingly enough, before him, that title belonged to his grandfather.

- The Hogwarts champion is Harry Potter! - The hall exploded with applause. Most of the students were humming approvingly, even those who had lost their betting money. Slytherin cheered the most, a rare sight, usually the snake faculty was not known for its emotionality.

Dumbledore covered his eyes and sent Potter off to the rest of the champions. How exhausted he was. Last year's incidents, the murders of two foreign students, the good thing about the tournament no one would charge him with anything. Just when he'd given up suspecting Potter, he'd pull a stunt like this. No, the Headmaster didn't connect Mephistopheles with the murders, but with the destruction of the Dementors, the disappearance of the Philosopher's Stone, the mess with Basilisk. All of this gave the Headmaster some unformed suspicions, but the Headmaster was in no hurry to act. He felt that something was bound to happen at the tournament, not without Potter's involvement, but not like this.

***

Mephistopheles entered the champions' room. A frowning Krum gave him a questioning look, Fleur smiled welcomingly.

- Harry, you're in too?

- Did you think any differently? - Replied Mephistopheles, smiling.

- And you're seventeen? - Asked the Bulgarian, who had been silent until then.

- No, so what? - In his usual manner, replied the Prince.

It seems that Victor wanted to ask something else, but at that moment the headmasters of 3 schools entered the room.

- Harry, how did you pass the cup defence? - Dumbledore asked sternly.

- 'By the right of the Lord, sir,' replied the Prince, showing everyone in the room the Lord's ring.

Dumbledore blinked his eyes in surprise. Karkaroff looked on with obvious apprehension. Madame Maxime didn't seem to be steamed at all. Fleur watched with a smile, and Krum seemed to have calmed down, having drawn some conclusions for himself.

- Hmm, all right. So, you've all been chosen as champions, the first trial is set for the 20th of November, almost a month from now. Ludo Bagman, some of you know him, will tell you the rest, please Ludo.

A full-looking man stepped forward. Krum knew him as a former penman for a team long gone from the league. Fleur didn't know him, but she'd heard him. Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow.

- 'So,' Bagman began to speak quickly, 'the first test will test your strength, your skills in combat. You will have to fight different opponents and take something from them. This item will be a clue to the next challenge. That's it.

- As I understand, our opponents are not magicians at all? - Mephistopheles asked.

- No Mr Potter, unfortunately I can't tell you any more. You must come to the test with a wand and only a wand. No artefacts are allowed. It is also forbidden to summon anything from outside the arena with beckoning spells. You may not use the services of familiars. Here," Bagman handed the champions scrolls, "here is a list of rules for the championship for the first round. The general rules remain the same, but depending on the challenge, some rules may change. These are indicated on your scrolls. Good luck to all of you. - Ludo finished his speech and left the room.

- Well, I guess now you can join your friends for a nice celebration," Dumbledore said, "Harry, could we talk to you?

- Of course, Professor," Mephistopheles was not at all intimidated by the prospect of being frank with Dumbledore. They walked to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore sat down in his chair and took a lemon slice.

- Lemon slice, my boy? - Dumbledore offered.

- 'May I,' Mephistopheles took a couple of them and began to chew, 'I suppose you want to know how I became Lord?

- Yes, my boy. As you realise, I knew about your life with your aunt and uncle. I knew you had a hard life, but you must understand. It was a dangerous time and in the magical world I couldn't vouch for your safety.

- I understand your motives, Headmaster. Some of them. But I don't expect you to tell me everything on the spot. I learnt from Draco that as the last of the line, I can claim the entire inheritance, not just the school safe. My uncle's a businessman, he says money should work, not lie dead. So I went to the goblins to find out the state of the accounts. And they handed me a ring and said, "Take the legacy. So I took it. - Mephistopheles finished his explanation. Not so much a lie, but rather an omission of some things.

- You were wise to keep it to yourself, Harry. The magical world is no fairy tale, you should have realised that. I understand your motivation and your desires. I hope you understand the responsibility for your decisions. - Dumbledore wasn't pushing it. So far, Potter's version was plausible. Whether it was, the Headmaster was about to find out, but there was no reason not to believe it now.

- Alright Harry, you can go now, I'm sure your friends are happy for you.

Mephistopheles nodded and walked out. The conversation had been easier than he thought it would be. The headmaster wasn't a fool, but he didn't want to pry. He wouldn't tell him the whole truth. But if he didn't get cocky, he could co-operate. The prince walked towards the dungeons. What's a party without a celebrant?

***

Slytherin was drunk. Everyone from fifth year onwards was in the lounge, making a mess. Seniors were drinking, dancing, some singing. Olithia Squire, a seventh year girl, was stripping on the table, the boys roared in approval and threw Galleons at her feet. The culprit himself was sitting on the couch, surrounded by girls, sipping whiskey. Alcohol did not take Mephistopheles, but he enjoyed seeing drunken aristocrats. Usually unapproachable, arrogant and proud - now they looked no better than whores in Paris. A couple of students were already sucking on the couch, some of them sticking it to Potter, but he wasn't saying no.

Snape sat in his office and didn't interfere with the mess in the living room. Why should he, if there was no way to stop it anyway. Even authority wouldn't help. The Potions Master's thoughts were occupied with more global problems. Lucius, in particular. Malfoy had attracted militants from Bulgaria and Germany to his house. Offered him a chance to participate in an event. Severus refused. Whatever Lucius is up to, it won't end well. The mark on his arm faded in and out of focus. It couldn't be a coincidence. Lucius was preparing to resurrect the Dark Lord. Either on his own or at someone else's behest.

Potter. Potter, that's a whole other story. He'd become more dangerous in fourth year. Snape could sense it. And his intuition had never failed him before. When Dumbledore announced the tournament, Snape watched Potter. His eyes read challenge and determination. And when Dumbledore announced the Hogwarts champion, Severus wasn't surprised. What the Headmaster was talking to Potter about, the Potter never found out, though he asked. But Dumbledore had brushed him off as usual. The Headmaster was sure everything was under control. The Potter had his doubts.

***

Malfoy Mansion.

Lucius stared at the parchment in concentration. On it was a diagram of a spell, a Runes circle, and a potion recipe. There was no telling where Barty had gotten it in the first place, but it might work. Voldemort's supporters in Germany and Bulgaria had confirmed their participation. Snape, on the other hand, refused. Wasted. And a pity. They could have used a genius in Potions. But that's all right, Barty's a genius too. The money that went to the mercenaries has already paid off. Several combat teams have been formed and can move in at any time. Each squad reports to its commander, who in turn reports to Lucius or Barty.

They should have Rookwood here, but he's in Azkaban. And the raid on the prison was planned for after the Lord's resurrection. There's no point in breaking in now, they may have enough men, but they don't want to make a fuss. Let everyone think they're safe. The Lord's resurrection is inevitable, and then... Then those who do not honour the laws of the purebloods will wash their blood.