Tensei Skill Shop Chapter 44

Tensei Skill Shop

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 44:

“I didn’t know that Hogwarts had a place like this?” One of the students remarked as they stepped into the room I was using for tutoring.

“What you see is the result of months of hard work,” I informed the newcomer, “We’ve been adjusting things the way we like it.”

Of course, I was lying. The empty classroom had been replaced by one of Matsu’s new Rooms, quite like a separate dimensional space laid over the original. Hogwarts itself didn’t seem to have any problem with it. With the customizability of those Rooms, I could have it generate the training equipment I wanted without having to go through all the trouble of making it. 

“Oh. What’s that?” The student pointed at one of my contraptions.

I waved one of my usual students over. “Mind taking over the explanation for me?”

The aftermath of our display during the second task had drawn quite a lot of interest from many, and we spent days answering questions about how we had made such a thing possible. That interest spilled over into our other activities, hence the swelling of students interested in participating in my tutoring sessions. Something similar was happening with the other three, and it was getting a little annoying.

Combined with that was the number of owls coming from unknown people who learned about what we did, bearing all sorts of offers with regards to it. Wanting to become our first customers, wanting to invest, wanting this and that… We ended up crafting a generic refusal letter in response to all of them.

Though if we’re going to start an entertainment production business, I don’t feel like giving it to the British Wizarding World. Matsu and Uzume agreed with me on that. Maybe we could dump it on the Japanese side instead… that would be interesting. 

And then there were still normal classes to attend and all that, which left us with very little time to ourselves.

However, I had a group of students to tutor right now, so I pushed that irritating subject out of my mind.

“Alright, today we’re going to brush up on Hardening Charms,” I told the class of younger kids, “The incantation is Duro, but you already know that, of course. Instead, we’re going to have a bit of a competition.”

“Competition?” One of them asked.

“As some of you might have seen before winter, this is Leafeon,” I introduced the Pokemon sitting on the desk next to me, “She’s a magical creature who came with me to Hogwarts.”

“Fee.” Leafeon barked a greeting.

“Quick question, how many of you know what bowtruckles are?”

Only a few of them raised their hands, and one of them asked, “Is it like a bowtruckle?”

“Similar. Plant-like, and can be very dangerous if provoked, yes.” I looked around at them. “I can see that some of you doubt that, so let’s have a demonstration.”

I picked up a long block of wood, one of several I had prepared, rapping it with a hand to show its hardness, before holding it out to the side in front of Leafeon.

“Leafeon, cut it.”

“ON!”

A single backflip and a flash of green, and a section of the wood fell away, clattering loudly over the floor. The students backed away warily, now eyeing Leafeon with more caution.

“As you can see, she knows how to use that tail of hers to cut. Very well. Moving on, this competition is about making something hard enough so that she can’t cut as well.” I tapped the block with my wand. “Duro.”

This time, Leafeon’s tail only scored a deep gash in it. Only I knew she wasn’t actually cutting seriously, because if she were, it would have sliced right through a rock three times as thick.

“So come up and take a block of wood, and let’s see how hard you can make it to stop her from cutting through it. Come on, get to it.”

This juggling of responsibilities did have a benefit though. It allowed us to make excuses for not accepting any of the proposals we were adverse to. The biggest responsibility at this point of time was trying to redo the whole plan for the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, which was a little harder than we expected. My Sekireis and I would gather in the library to discuss that matter every few evenings, over the documents Edward Meddle sent us regarding the initial plan.

“I don’t get it, why would they have the first two tasks be scored, but the final winner be the one who takes the Cup?” Uzume asked the question I had been wondering. “That makes it seem like the first two don’t matter other than deciding the order of entry.”

“About that, Uzume-tan, doesn’t that sound similar to something else?” Matsu asked suggestively.

The brunette frowned thoughtfully, before shaking her head. “Nope, I can’t figure out why. Just tell me the answer.”

“Quidditch.” I realized.

“Huh?”

“The Triwizard Cup is essentially the Snitch. Hundred and fifty points in one go, usually a direct victory,” I explained.

Matsu pointed finger guns at me. “Bingo, Rick-tan got it right.”

“Another aspect of wizarding culture then,” Irene said tiredly, “I must confess, I’m getting a little tired of it.”

“Reminds me of being an adventurer in Danmachi,” I murmured quietly, “It’s the ones who survive at the end who wins.”

“So what exactly is the theme we want to go with here?” Uzume inquired, flipping through ‘Triwizard Tournaments: Wizarding Glories’.

“Meddle said he wanted something wizardry,” Matsu answered, scanning through a copy of her own, “But all the previous examples are like trying to one-up each other for the Darwin award.”

Irene sighed and shook her head. “Hence the cancellation.”

Wizardry… a wizard… what would be wizard-like…? An idea came to me, causing me to straighten up slightly and draw the attention of the three girls.

“Rick-tan?”

“Did you think of something?”

A smile spread across my face. “A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to,” I quoted.

When I explained my idea to them, they collectively agreed that it was a fitting one, and we got to work on preparing a proper proposal to send off to Mr Meddle. Matsu had a lot of fun compiling a more comprehensive plan than what we had started out with; starting with the layout of the arena meant for the task, puzzles and obstacles for the champions to overcome, the resources required to construct all of those, possible safety measures, audiovisual capturing, and so on…

Then we packed it all into a package and sent it off by owl. The March weather came with a great deal of strong winds, so Irene helpfully enchanted the owl with wind resistance to help it avoid the delays other owls were experiencing from being blown off-course.

It appeared to be the right move, because Mr Meddle’s reply arrived just as quickly, asking us to meet him at Hogsmeade once again. 

Apart from those, there was another event that occurred. Rita Skeeter published an article in the Witch Weekly magazine implying that Hermione Granger was trying to seduce famous wizards like Viktor Krum and Harry Potter, which the Gryffindor girl scoffed at, not yet realizing just how dangerous the power of public opinion could be. In another interesting twist of canon, the article didn’t state that Hermione was Harry’s cheating girlfriend, but instead pointing out that Harry already had a girlfriend in the form of Ginny Weasley, whom Hermione was trying to steal Harry from.

“It’s utter lies,” The redheaded girl told me during one of the tutoring sessions when I asked her about it, “But I keep hearing from other girls how lucky I am, or that they would side with me against Hermione.”

“Thanks, Ginny,” The bushy-haired Gryffindor said.

“But you and Harry are dating now?” I asked Ginny. 

“That’s…” She blushed a bright red.

“Hey, lay off my sister!” Ron raised his voice at me, before shrinking when I gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s their business, not yours,” He continued in a smaller voice.

“True,” I admitted, “But you know that some people will still stick their nose into your business anyway.”

“Don’t I know it,” Harry grumbled, “Malfoy never misses a chance to jeer at me.”

“At least it’s not about the face you made when you came out of the lake,” I teased him.

His subsequent attempts to try and hex me were much more spirited, though they still failed to connect.

That Saturday, our paths once again crossed on the way to Hogsmeade. A short distance ahead of us, Harry was with Ginny, while his two other friends trailed a short distance behind them. I noticed that Ron was carrying a rather bulky bag, from which my nose picked up the smell of food. 

“Going on a picnic?” I asked him.

“Uh, yeah…” He answered unconvincingly.

<They’re probably going to see Harry’s godfather,> Matsu reported, <Should I…?>

<Go ahead.>

She stealthily pulled out her wand, and a delayed-action spell landed on Ron’s back without him realizing it. 

Mr Meddle met us at the Three Broomsticks again, though this time he was waiting at the door with a wide smile on his face when he saw us. Once we were all seated within the private room, the older wizard immediately launched into his feedback of the plan we came up with. It was generally good, though there were some parts he had to reject due to the costs.

Well, we weren’t expecting to get all of them anyway. But what we got is still more than good enough. I crossed out the rejected ones on the list. 

Naturally, not all of what we requested was essential. Some of it was for our own benefit, to get more examples of unique magics to fill out our collection of data. Hogwarts’s library might have all sorts of books and spells, but sometimes witnessing the magic in action made a lot of difference.

It took some time to polish up what remained, but we finally concluded around half past one, even working through the lunch meal delivered by Madam Rosmerta.

“I must say, Miss Chie, your work is outstanding,” Mr Meddle praised, flicking through several sheets with her notes, “I can tell you’ve put a great deal of research into this, on top of your clear and concise outline of the details.”

“Thank you.” Matsu said modestly, giving my hand a squeeze under the table.

Her efforts in getting the proposal accepted didn’t just lie in the arrangement; there were some steps that required us to collaborate with other departments, like the obvious Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, for the magical creatures intended for use in the initial proposal. And it appeared that a little asskissing on our part went a long way.

“Compared to Bagman’s way of handling things. Heavens know how careless that man was.”

“Any idea what happened to him?” I inquired.

“As far as I know, he’s in hiding. Goblins are very vicious when it comes to reclaiming what they’re owed, you see.” The man took another bite of his meal, chewed and swallowed. “Anyway, back to what we were talking about. I’ve gone through the rest of them with my colleagues, and they have no problems with the rest of them. All that’s left is to get the approval of the other judges.”

“Won’t Mr Crouch’s absence be a problem then?” Uzume asked.

“Thankfully not too much, because most of the groundwork’s been laid out already, and with the success of your work on the second task, I’ve gotten Minister Fudge’s approval to make any changes for the third one as long as the majority of the judges agree. So even if Percy Weasley objects, he can’t do a thing as long as two of the others approve.” 

He gave us a relieved smirk, indicating his feelings on the matter. Dumbledore was likely to agree, so as long as either Maxime or Karkaroff approved, the motion was certain to go through.

“Does that mean you’ll be heading up to the castle after this?”

Mr Meddle nodded. “Yes. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be meeting with the three Headmasters in Hogwarts to present your proposed changes to them.”

“We look forward to hearing the good news then.” Irene said to him.

The private room was still available for us to use, so we could stay there while we monitored Harry and his friends. While Irene enchanted the door to stay shut and locked, Matsu linked her spell with Archive, creating a map of the area surrounding Ronald Weasley. From looks of the map, they were currently following a magical dog out of the village, and Ginny wasn’t with them.

“Hope Ginny forgives me for leaving early,” I heard Harry’s voice say through the screen.

“Don’t worry, mate, I’m sure she’ll understand, especially when we told her it’s related to the special training Rick taught us,” Ron responded.

“Meeting Sirius is more important,” Hermione agreed.

“Wow, when did you create this spell?” Uzume asked, peering at the audio waveform display on the screen.

“It was in development for the second task, but I only managed to finish it afterwards. Tracking, mapping, and sound capture, all in one spell.”

“It’s an excellent work of magic,” Irene said approvingly, “Did you use Archive to compress it?”

“I knew Irene-tan would realize it,” Matsu grinned happily, “The full effect would take several seconds to fully cast, but using Archive that way allows me to send complex spells in a single cast as long as I prepare them beforehand.”

We had an interesting discussion about some of the newer discoveries and inventions we made, which lasted until we saw that the group had stopped, and the dog had turned into a man. Based on the map, they were currently in a cave, and there was a hippogriff present as well.

“They’ve gone pretty far, near one of the mountains,” Matsu reported. She noticed my expression, and shook her head calmly. “They can’t hear us. The spell’s one way only.”

“It’s a bit soft. Can you turn up the volume?”

“No problem! Just let me tune the sound capture a bit…”

Harry’s voice came through more clearly now, as did Hermione’s and Ron’s. There was also a hoarse male voice that could only be Sirius Black’s, though it was mixed with the sound of the man devouring the food the trio had brought. As expected, Harry asked Sirius what he was doing in Hogsmeade.

“Fulfilling my duty as godfather… don’t worry about me, I’m pretending to be a lovable stray. What about you? Heard you had a date today?” The man’s tone was playful.

“Yeah, with my little sister Ginny,” Ron spoke up.

“We’ve danced at the ball, and she asked me one night,” Harry’s voice betrayed his embarrassment.

“Sorry about that, pup. If I’d known, I’d…” Sirius paused, making sounds of chewing.

“No, it’s okay,” Harry assured him, “I forgot to let you know in my letter.”

“Speaking of letters… Well, let’s just say things are getting fishier. I’ve been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I’m not the only one who’s getting worried.”

While Sirius and Harry talked about the risk Sirius was taking by being so close to Hogwarts, Ron’s position appeared to be picking something off the floor, accompanied by the sound of rustling papers. He moved closer to Harry, apparently passing his friend something to read.

“They make it sound like he’s dying,” Harry said slowly, “But he can’t be that ill if he managed to get up here…”

Ah, they’re talking about Crouch’s absence. It was reported in the Daily Prophet. I leaned forward to listen more closely.

“I don’t think that’s it at all,” Sirius’s tone was grim.

“What do you mean?”

“Listen, I know Crouch,” The man’s voice turned slightly menacing, “Back when he was Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

“He was?”

“You didn’t know?” He asked, in between bites of food.

The trio must have shook their heads, because Sirius went on to explain what he knew of Bartemius Crouch’s history, from being a hard-working rising star in the Ministry who had a successful career in fighting against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, until his son’s involvement with Death Eaters dashed his hopes of becoming Minister, resulting in the son dying in Azkaban while Crouch was shunted into the Department of International Magical Co-operation. A direct, fight-fire-with-fire man like that choosing to fake an illness to pretend to be a retired Auror turned teacher, to investigate a former Death Eater like Snape? That was the most suspicious thing out of everything else Sirius knew about the matter.

“Also, your Defense teacher this year is Mad-Eye, right? I knew him too. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising.” Another pause. “But he’s not like Crouch. Moody always brought people in alive whenever possible. I just don’t see him working together with Crouch like this. And-”

“Oh!” A gasp interrupted Sirius.

“What is it, Hermione?” Harry asked the girl.

“Maybe it’s- No, but then- It couldn’t be-” She babbled.

I glanced at Matsu. “Looks like giving her the puzzle trained her mind to put pieces together, but she still has that habit of not sharing info properly.”

My Sekirei snorted, but I could tell that she agreed with me.

They finally managed to calm her down enough to properly voice what she was thinking.

“I was wondering how Crouch could be pretending to be Moody, and I remembered… Polyjuice Potion,” Hermione said softly.

“That could do it, yeah.” There was a scratching sound, like fingers going over a beard.

The dot indicating Sirius began to move in circles around the cave, showing he was pacing in thought.

She continued to lay out the clues that she noticed about the impersonator; how the man only drank from his hip flask at least once every hour, how some of the ingredients for brewing the potion were difficult to obtain but could be found within Snape’s personal stores. The latter explained why Crouch-Moody would be in Snape’s office.

“But the main ingredient needed to make the Polyjuice Potion work is a part of the person the drinker wants to turn into,” Hermione stated, “So if Crouch is turning into Moody, then-”

“Moody has to be working with Crouch!” Ron concluded, wrongly. 

“That’s not what I mean, Ron!” The girl said crossly, “It means the real Moody is somewhere close by where Crouch has access to him.”

“Hold on,” Harry said, sounding uncertain, “Didn’t something happen to Moody before the start of school? Your dad helped him with the policemen, I remember, because his trashcans made a ruckus.”

Ron let out a laugh of disbelief. “Oh, come on, that’s ridiculous, you make it sound like Crouch attacked Moody at his home, kidnapping him so he can make Polyjuice Potion to turn himself into Moody. We’ve seen them together at Halloween, remember?”

Sirius’s pacing stopped. “But then it doesn’t make sense. Unless…”

They continued to discuss it further, but eventually gave up as they couldn’t think of any answers. As for the Polyjuiced imposter, they decided to just continue keeping an eye out until they found more pieces of the puzzle. Hearing that made Uzume and I facepalm, while Irene sighed with slight exasperation.

I wonder if it’s fate that’s keeping them from connecting the dots, or just because they’re missing the obvious clue, that Barty Crouch’s son has the same name. Then again, they probably thought that the guy’s dead and gone, and so wrote him off entirely as a suspect. I took another swig of my drink. You’d think they would at least inform Dumbledore, or consider why the guy is stealing the ingredients. Heck, did they even consider whose eye the guy is using? Or maybe it’s just mental carelessness. Harry is still a teenager, and Sirius from his time in Azkaban.

"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," Sirius added.

I exchanged looks with the others. Personally, I had forgotten about that woman, a colleague of Mr Meddle in the same department, thought to be missing. The man himself probably forgot about her too, with his sudden appointment to Bagman’s post. But there wasn’t anything that could be done about her as she was already dead.

The rest of the conversation didn’t bear much importance for us; Harry telling his godfather about how he was training with us exchange students, the older man warning him to be careful until the end of the tournament, advice about how to behave while still keeping Sirius informed of anything happening… It finally concluded with Sirius offering to escort them back to Hogsmeade.

Matsu turned down the volume as they started making their way back to the village.

“Matsu, what do you predict will happen if Crouch is found out now?” I asked my Wisdom Sekirei.

She hummed thoughtfully. “Depending on how it’s done, Dumbledore will either capture him or cause him to flee the castle. The risk to Harry is… considerable.”

“And if we were to act as well?”

“It would take a bit of preparation to get around the defenses he has.” Matsu looked at Irene.

“I have an enchantment that will allow us to avoid being detected by his Foe-Glass,” The redhead explained. 

“But if we were to act without them,” Matsu continued, “We would still be able to subdue him without any problems. As for what happens after that… It’s hard to say how fate in this world will react.”

I leaned back and thought about it.

If we caught Crouch now, the tournament would still go on, but Harry wouldn’t get involved in the graveyard, and Cedric’s chances of dying would be virtually zero. On the other hand, Voldemort would probably try to find some other way of coming back, but how much did I actually care about that? This wasn’t my world, and I wasn’t the Chosen One.

I blinked as I remembered one of the lines in the first book. ‘If he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.’ So… that’s it then. Whether I act or not, things will eventually resolve themselves somehow.

“Seems like you’ve come to a decision,” Irene observed.

I nodded, and rose from my chair. “Let’s plan an ambush for an imposter.”

…

Harry, Ron and Hermione went up to the Owlery after breakfast on Sunday to send a letter to Percy, to ask whether he had seen Mr Crouch lately, like Sirius had suggested. After they watched Hedwig leave carrying the letter, the three of them started to head back to Gryffindor Tower when Hermione stopped.

“I just thought of something!” She exclaimed.

“What is it now?” Ron asked impatiently. “At least tell us first before you go running off.”

“Winky.” Hermione looked around at the two of them, and sighed at the clueless looks they were giving her. “Crouch’s house elf. We saw her down in the kitchen, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” The redhead realized, “But what use is there asking her about Crouch? She’ll keep mum when it comes to Crouch, that’s just how house elves are. And what are we going to tell her? Her ex-master is pretending to be ill just so he can pretend to be teaching?”

“But it’s a possible lead.” Hermione insisted.

Her stubbornness eventually persuaded Harry and Ron to visit the kitchens with her.

Unfortunately, not only was Winky not forthcoming with any answers, Hermione’s social justice behavior rose up and caused the other house elves to expel them from the place. In a friendly manner with the extra food they asked for, no doubt, but still an expulsion. That also caused Ron and Hermione to quarrel; his male friend scolding the female one for being too heavy-handed, while the latter accused the former of caring more about the food the house elves provided them with. 

Rather than endure the two of them sniping at each other over their homework, Harry chose to spend time with Ginny instead, giving her some candy from Honeydukes to make up for their short date yesterday. She didn’t seem to hold it against him, so the two of them found an empty classroom to do their homework, before taking a walk around the castle together.

He did spot Cedric and Cho sitting together and talking in the courtyard, but somehow the feeling of jealousy he had before didn’t seem as strong now, so he quickly moved on. At the same time, Harry couldn’t deny that he felt like he owed the older Hufflepuff a lot; Cedric had chosen to help him for both the first and second tasks by telling Harry what they involved, instead of leaving Harry to flounder helplessly. However, he had no idea how he could repay that favor. 

Ginny asked him about his preparations for the third task, but that was over three months away, and Harry really didn’t want to think about it. It was only when she added something else that he started paying attention.

“What? Could you repeat that?” He asked Ginny.

“I said, I saw Mr Meddle heading up to the castle yesterday.”

Harry was a little confused. “But why would he be here? The next task isn’t until June.” 

“Someone said they saw Karkaroff and Maxime entering the castle too.”

Harry knew that the two foreign teachers sometimes visited the castle, like when Karkaroff came to see Snape about something, but both at the same time with Meddle? That only meant that it was related to the Triwizard Tournament. 

“They still haven’t found out who put your name in the Goblet?” Ginny asked him.

“No.” Harry answered. 

But compared to months ago, he now had a strong suspicion as to who the culprit was. He just didn’t know how to go about confronting the man. 

Harry continued to puzzle over the issue, even when he took Sirius’s food up to the Owlery on his own, his two friends still preoccupied with their argument.

Thankfully, their bad moods had burned themselves out by the next morning, so Harry was able to enjoy a pleasant breakfast with Ron and Hermione. At least until the post owls started to arrive, because Hermione was inundated with multiple owls, each trying to deliver their letter first. The letters turned out to be hate mail from various anonymous people, who had believed Skeeter’s lies about her.

Each one the girl opened just got her angrier and angrier, and she was about to open the last one when it suddenly flew out of her hands and into a beautiful redhead’s. Harry blinked as he realized that the exchange student Irene was standing nearby, Hermione’s letter in her hand.

“Excuse me, but that’s my mail!” Hermione said hotly.

“You don’t want to open this one,” Irene answered, “It contains something toxic.”

“How would you know that?” The Gryffindor demanded.

Irene raised an eyebrow, causing Hermione to shrink back slightly. Even she knew that the older witch was extremely talented at magic, and her presence was nearly as imposing as Professor McGonagall’s.

“If you won’t take my word for it, then how about a teacher’s?” 

Without waiting for a reply, the redhead started off towards the staff table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided to follow, trailing after her as she approached Moody, who was having his breakfast.

“What do you want?” The scarred teacher growled, lowering his spoon, his magic eye darting between them, Irene, and the letter repeatedly.

Irene held out the letter. “The girl received this letter. I told her it contained something dangerous, but she doesn’t believe me.”

Moody pulled out his wand. “Put it down on the table.” 

Irene did so and stepped back, letting Moody cast several detection charms, which caused the letter to glow an ominous sickly yellow.

Moody grunted. “Undiluted bubotuber pus. You’d have gotten it all over your hands if you had opened this letter, Granger. Careless of you.”

Hermione gasped in shock at that. Harry remembered learning about that during one of his first Herbology classes this year, with Professor Sprout mentioning that it had adverse effects on bare skin.

Moody turned his attention back to Irene. “You did well to spot something like that,” He said approvingly, “You’d make a good Auror.”

Irene didn’t say anything, but just nodded and went back to where her friends were sitting at Hufflepuff table.

“Seems like I should be teaching you lot some detection charms,” Moody growled at the trio, giving them a smile that made him look more menacing, “Perhaps that will help you learn CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

They jumped at the sudden shout, and fled back to their seats.

Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures class saw them learning about nifflers, and they stayed back to let him know about the hate mail Hermione had received. The half-giant, having gotten the same after Skeeter’s article about his mother, shared his own advice on what to do with them, which was to chuck them into fire to burn. However, the hate mail continued to arrive over the week, and some of her ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at the Gryffindor table and shrieked insults at her for the whole Hall to hear-

Or at least the first one did, because Irene once again came to the rescue, silencing them with a powerful Silencing Charm.

“Do keep your personal matters from bothering the rest of us,” The redhead admonished Hermione, “Some of us would prefer not to be disturbed in such a manner.”

Hermione turned red, but held her tongue. Instead, she threw her energy into trying to figure out how to get back at Rita Skeeter, namely how the woman had found out about some of the information she stated in her articles despite being banned from the castle grounds. She even stayed back after their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask the teacher if he had seen Skeeter anywhere around the area during the second task.

True to his word, the man had made them practice detection charms on several boxes that he spelled with traps and other prank items, giving those who failed to detect the trapped ones a nasty fright, leaving the class of students nervous and twitchy at the end of the lesson. Harry was starting to understand just how someone like Moody could become so paranoid, if they had to deal with that sort of thing all the time.

“At least we’re less likely to fall for Fred and George’s pranks after this,” Ron said sourly, feeling where his eyebrows had been scorched off, like when he had built a tower out of Exploding Snap cards and it blew up on him.

Harry didn’t answer, he was looking down at the Marauder’s Map which showed Hermione talking to Crouch, still in the form of Moody. He still wasn’t sure what to think of the man, or to even trust him, but Harry couldn’t deny that he was doing an effective job of teaching. 

The only one who was better was Rick, though Harry barely had time to attend the older teen’s tutoring sessions, given the mounting workload as the Easter Holidays approached. Rick had also cut back on those sessions, citing some important project that he and his group of friends were doing on behalf of the Ministry. Nowadays, the most they spoke to each other was to exchange a few words of greetings when their paths crossed.

Hermione turned up a few minutes later to let them know that Skeeter hadn’t been seen by Moody’s magical eye anywhere near the second task. Rather than get discouraged, she began researching magical methods of eavesdropping instead, thankfully without roping Harry and Ron into her vendetta.

Then everything changed on the Monday just before the Easter Holidays.

“Hey, look over there,” Ron pointed, as they were heading back up to the castle for lunch after a lesson with Hagrid, “It’s Meddle, Maxime, and Karkaroff.”

The three adults were climbing the steps to the front entrance, talking among themselves.

“They must be here for some Triwizard matter,” Harry guessed.

“You haven’t heard anything, have you?” Hermione asked him.

He shook his head. “Nothing yet. I expect they’ll tell me together with the other champions.”

They trudged up the steps and into the Great Hall, sitting down at the Gryffindor table to eat some lamb chops and potatoes. Harry looked around, but couldn’t spot a quartet he had been used to seeing.

“What is it, Harry?” Ron asked him through a mouthful of food.

“Rick’s not here. Neither him nor his friends.” He answered, turning back to his own meal.

His friend swallowed his food and continued talking, “You think that the project they’re working on is related to the tournament?” 

“Probably.”

“Did you tell Snuffles that yet?” Hermione inquired.

He shook his head. “I’ll write to him later tonight after dinner.”

However, as Harry and Ron were heading down to dinner after another annoying Divination lesson with Professor Trelawney, there was the sound of a huge ruckus that had many of the students in a tizzy.

“What do you think’s going on?” Ron shouted over the din.

“I don’t know!” Harry yelled back.

“Out of the way! Out of the way, please!” 

The students parted to make way for Professor Dumbledore, who was accompanied by the other Headteachers and Meddle, as the adults hastily ran towards the source of the commotion.

“That’s the Defense classroom!” Ron realized. “Think something happened to Moody?”

Harry didn’t reply, but the urge to find out pushed him into action; he ran after the adults, with Ron following close behind him.

Ron’s older brothers Fred and George were there, indicating that it was the sixth-year class. They were standing outside the classroom, just watching with wide eyes as the teachers charged through the door. Flashes of lights and loud bangs were going off within the room, causing everyone else to stay back.

“Fred! George! What’s going on?!” Ron yelled the question.

“I don’t know!” One of them yelled back. “It was Irene and Rick, they suddenly attacked Moody!”

“Rick did, Irene sent the rest of us out of the class,” The other twin corrected.

“What? Why would they do something like that?!”

The sounds from the classroom ceased, and the students crept forward to peer inside, Harry being one of those at the front. The sight within made his breath catch in his throat, and some of the others gasped loudly.

Moody was lying on the floor, unconscious and bound in ropes. Standing a short distance away were Irene and Rick, who had their wands pointed at the ex-Auror. Maxime and Karkaroff had their wands pointed at the students, while Meddle just looked between the first two with utter confusion. The only one who didn’t have his wand out was Dumbledore, who was holding what Harry recognized as Moody’s hip flask.

As he watched, Dumbledore unscrewed the top and tipped it over, causing a thick glutinous fluid to pour out onto the floor.

“Polyjuice Potion,” The old wizard said, unsmiling and radiating a sense of power that kept the watching students from even entering the room, “Whoever this is, he is not Alastor Moody.”

“Then who?” Maxime asked, her wand lowering slightly.

“I expect he is the culprit who put Harry Potter’s name in the Goblet of Fire,” Dumbledore answered, turning to look at Harry watching from the doorway.

Harry wasn’t sure what to think, other than realizing he should have told Dumbledore about his suspicions earlier.

Afterword: The later part of this chapter took quite a while to get out because I had trouble trying to picture just how the butterflied events would develop, especially when it came to deciding whether to have Crouch found out early or not. Took me several rereads of the canon book before I finally managed to come to a decision, and you can see which choice I picked.

I still had quite a bit of fun writing the original part, even if some of it still followed canon events, and I hope I was able to convey that emotion in my writing. I also noticed that I accidentally uploaded the previous chapter as 44 when it was 43, so here's the real chapter 44.

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