Episode 10. Part 3

I'm starting to release new chapters again.

Episode 10. Part 3

***

- Madame Maxim, Mr. Karkarov, what are you unhappy about when your champions have a clear advantage? - sincerely puzzled Harold, interrupting the shouting directors. They turned their attention back to the younger champion. "A'gee, Potte'g, despite your age, the Cup has deemed you the most worthy of all the old warrior students in Hogwarts. I suppose we have no reason to underestimate you," the Headmistress of Charmbaton explained in a feigned nonchalance, with a thick French accent.

- Do you really think I could compete with no doubt the most talented and attractive halfwoman and the best player and catcher in the world, according to thousands of fans?

- Boy-Who-Will-Fail-At-His-Own-Self skeptically sniggered.

- Yes. Or tee not 'Arry Potte'g, the Boy-Kotoge-Vigil, the winner of the Dark Logd," snorted the Charmbaton champion haughtily.

- 'Oh, Fleur, I'm flattered, but surely I'm powerless against your beauty,' Harold remarked in French, faking a grin of disgust and realizing that he was pouncing on the most dangerous girl within Hogwarts.

- Nonsense. You're one of the few people my charms don't work on," Fleur parried in the same French, ignoring the stunned look on her face.

None of them had any idea yet that this brief dialogue was the beginning of a long competition to see who would better ruin each other's lives...

***

- I knew I'd find you here," sighed Dudley, looking pityingly at his cousin crouched in his deep leather chair. He had just arrived at Potter Manor from the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets, into which the cousins had created a two-way portal as soon as they found themselves back at Hogwarts. It had been Harold's own idea, and so, not finding his brother in either the drawing room or the Chamber of Secrets, Dudley had no doubt where to look for the missing person. - There is a celebration in the tower...

- I don't want to," came a muffled voice from the chair. He'd had a bad day, and he wanted to give in to the weakness of ordering the housekeepers to bake a chocolate cake and eat it all, even though he knew he would suffer later if he didn't take the potion. Or do the mature thing of going down to the wine cellar and getting shamelessly drunk.

- What's troubling you? - Dudley asked his cousin affectionately. He exhaled noisily, answering wistfully, "You know how I don't like to do things against my will, brother.

- You threw your name in the goblet yourself," Dursle snorted, not specifying that it was Dursle who had prompted his brother to do so.

- Because I would have been champion anyway, and this way I got rid of unnecessary questions," Harry replied with the same wistfulness, and suddenly looked up and asked earnestly: - "And you're okay with being... away from my notoriety? - Dudley shrugged, smiling:

- "At least no one knows what role I play in your life except you and me. You know I'm no hero. I am too much of a coward to stand up to strong opponents like you without hesitation.

- And you, brother, are too shortsighted to solve your problems without me..." "I may resent you, but you're right," Harold grinned, cocking his head as if he loved his brother.

- I can make successful plans all I want, but without your foresight, and without your ability to think in cold blood and cool my head, they are worth little.

- His cousin looked for some time into the green eyes and, finding nothing but sincerity in them, nodded sternly, translating the difficult subject into a joke without a shadow of a lie: "It's nice to hear that you appreciate me, brother, at least no less than I appreciate your back, behind which is so convenient to hide.

- You still remember your childhood, don't you? - Harry raised his eyebrows.

- But you protected me from a snake back then..." Dudley often reminded him of the time a viper had crawled into the Dursleys' garden. The cousins were five or six years old at the time, and the Dursleys had gone next door. Harry was loosening the ground around Aunt Petunia's petunias at the time, and Dudley was playing with his cars when suddenly he saw a snake... They practically hated each other then, but Potter still had his brother behind him. Dursle quickly forgot the incident then, but remembered it when his cousin started taking care of him. And he hasn't been able to forget since.

Much time had passed since those distant years, the boys had changed and grown older, but they dared not forget that they were brothers, and that together they were stronger. It had been Dudley who had told Harold, as a child, to hold a snake's head to the ground with a stick and then pick it up at the base of the head so that it wouldn't bite. He'd heard about it on television, and he only remembered it behind his cousin's back, but he wouldn't have had the courage to do it himself. But Harry had, and still had enough left over to carry the snake to the park and dump it in the pond before he ran home. The brothers had already complemented each other perfectly back then, but only now began to realize it...

***

- I know, I know, you're afraid that I'm up to something by inviting you to a meeting. But I assure you I'm not," Harold ranted, practicing the rhetoric he'd recently finished studying. He was sitting in Madame Rosmerta's pub at a secluded table in the company of his rivals, Cram and Delacourt. He had been advised to invite them by the faithful Dudley, to see what kind of people they were, whether they were to be expected to be mean, and to try to bend the contest to a real healthy rivalry, instead of a supposed feud. And Potter didn't delay, inviting the co-champions to Hogsmeade next weekend.

- I just wanted us to get to know each other better. After all, even though we're rivals to each other, we're not enemies. We are completely different people from different countries, with different values of life. And yet, we have something in common," Harry paused intriguingly, as described in the handbook, pleased to notice the interest in the wary faces.

- We are constrained by the prejudices of the crowd. I am like a national hero. You, Victor, as a world-class sports star. You, Fleur, as a Vaila. If I'm not mistaken, there's no such thing as half-breeds. If you've got a drop of blood in you, you're a Vale," he tilted his head on her shoulder, regarded the Frenchwoman half-questioningly. She smiled sweetly at the co-champions and nodded, her smile turning into a grin. The boys twitched in sync, glancing warily, but pretended the demonstration didn't bother them.

So Potter continued: - "But that's not the point. It's about the fact that our lives depend directly on public opinion. And I don't think I'd be wrong in assuming that it annoys you as much as it annoys me.

- From what I've seen, you're taking advantage of it, of public opinion," Fleur said doubtfully, wrinkling her pretty nose. The conversation was in French, by the way, because it turned out that Crum knew it as a second language, much better than English, and Harold didn't care.

- Like you don't," Potter shrugged. - I'm not the one, Fleur, tossing my hair picturesquely behind my back at breakfast to get the guys' attention and annoy the competition. - Fleur snorted, which attracted the attention of Madame Maxime, sitting three tables away, who wouldn't let her champion go without her own protection. Viktor also showed up with Karkaroff, the director of Durmstrang.

- And I'm not the one who makes an unapproachable persona to cool the fervor of fans and admirers..." Krum snickered. Harry grinned happily and finished conspiratorially: "But I'm the one who does odd things from time to time, flouting conventional wisdom to make a favorable impression of myself..." The co-champions looked at each other, and then smiled identical, understanding smiles. All three of them thought that this acquaintance could be very, very useful...

***

- Now, you, Lord Potter, let me examine your wand... Only from my hands, Mr. Ollivander.

- Harold was extremely unhappy that the reporters had torn him away from his favorite picaresque with Professor Snape by arriving during class and demanding to see all the champions. In addition to the general photo and interviews that the tournament participants had to give, the wizard of wands had to inspect their tools of witchcraft...

- With all due respect to you, master, I remind you that a wand is not only a conductor of magic and a tool to facilitate witchcraft, but also a weapon on which my life directly depends, especially when we became participants in the tournament. I trust you, and yet you are capable of doing something to my wand that might kill me the first time I try to conjure. It makes me sound wary.

- The reporters were hurriedly recording Potter's speech. The directors, all three of them, murmured quietly: who does this guy think he is, not to trust them and the organizers. The co-champions, on the other hand, crinkled their eyes, looking at the younger man with respect, but getting annoyed at themselves: why hadn't they thought of that?!

And yet Olivander inspected Potter's wand exactly from his master's hands, not without the help of his magic, not noticing the Philosopher's Stone handle on top of it. And then it was the reporters who took on the champions. And Harold gave Miss Skeeter a sly wink...

The next day, the public exploded when the new issue of The Prophet came out with a screaming title on the front page: "A National Hero - A Dark Lord Victor or a New Dark Lord? Exclusive details, plus an interview with Boy-Who-Survived. Written by Rita Skeeter."

With a special relish article read all the Pied Pipers, because they have tried to collect for the scandalous journalist all the most savory school rumors and speculation about the Boy-Who-Survived. The article also mentioned Harold's suspected involvement in the appearance and disappearance of the Mountain Troll in freshman year, the disappearance of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets and the disappearance of Ginevra Weasley, with whom he did an unknown thing before returning, the help in escaping not only Sirius Black but Bellatrix Lestrange as well, and the attack of the Eaters at the Quidditch finals match. There were also rumors about Harry changing girls like cufflinks on cuffs. And a bunch more - in one phrase - school speculation.

All of this was peppered with real facts from the Boy Who Survived school life, as well as very sensible and politically correct answers to questions in interviews. He is eager to win, despite being suspected of trying to kill him, but will not be upset if he loses, because he has very, very worthy opponents who will be very difficult to compete with. He promised, however, that he would do everything to make sure that his rivals would not win easily, and he said that he had no doubt they would do the same. And so on in the same vein.

All this mixed together as if to refute each other, making the public's opinion of the article very different, which Harold was pleased with. And his rat-catchers were pleased that they had their paws in shaping public opinion. This was their first intrigue, which Draco was so eager to accomplish. However, the hero pretended to be extremely outraged by the article, and his friends pretended that they didn't care or that they were gloating. And oil to this fire was poured by the happy principal, who did not even suspect that he had been cheated...

***

- Harry, our older brother...

Charlie wrote us.

The twins finished each other's sentences, as usual, and it took a long time before they got to the point: the first challenge for the champions of the Triwizard Tournament was dragons. More accurately, the ordeal began a long time ago, and the champions needed to gather information about the first stage of the tournament before they could begin. What about the dragons? That the twins didn't know. All they knew was that their brother and his dragonmaster friends had brought three vicious females with clutches, a Chinese Fireball, a Welsh Green, and a Hungarian Tailstalker, to the Forbidden Forest. All three dragons were furious, for the wizards had threatened their clutches with eggs that were already rare, and not all of them hatched.

Harold immediately assumed that since the dragonesses were vicious, protecting their eggs, the task had to do with the eggs. And as soon as he assumed that, Dudley turned very pale... A few minutes later the friends knew what the champions were about to do. While the twins were worried about their friend, and Dursle about his brother, Harold was decidedly diffident: Having read the chronicles of previous tournaments, he'd expected something like this: "Dragons, then? Well..." He only needed a plan.

***