Chapter 278: "The Morning After"

The Great Hall was unusually quiet the morning after the Third Task. Students whispered in hushed voices, casting glances at the Gryffindor table, where Charles Potter was notably absent, and at the Slytherin table, where a few seats remained empty. There was an air of unease that permeated the entire room, a tension that spoke to the gravity of what had transpired the previous night.

At the Ravenclaw table, Harry sat quietly, buttering his toast while his friends discussed the events of the previous evening."But where did you run off to after you got out of the maze?" Roger Davies asked, leaning closer. "We were worried about you. One minute you were there, the next—gone."

"I told you," Harry replied with practiced patience, "I had to decipher the portkey signature quickly and make another one that could take me to where Charles was. There wasn't time to waste. It's as simple as that."

Elvinia snorted from across the table, her eyes narrowed. "Nothing's ever simple when it comes to you, Potter."

Before Harry could respond, Cedric dropped into the seat beside him, his face unusually pale. "Speaking of simple things," Cedric said, running a hand through his messy hair, "I had the strangest dream last night—about the maze."

"Oh?" Harry raised an eyebrow, not breaking his rhythm as he continued eating.

"I dreamt that I died," Cedric said quietly. The group fell silent. "I know it sounds mad, but it felt so real. Like... like I was supposed to die last night, but somehow, I didn't."

"That's cheerful breakfast conversation," Reggy muttered, his concern showing despite his sarcasm.

"Well, it's good that Harry was selected as Hogwarts champion instead of you," Arabella added. "With that attitude, you wouldn't have lasted long in the tasks."

Cedric nodded slowly. "I feel that too. Thank Merlin I wasn't chosen. But to think that Professor Moody was an imposter... Did any of you suspect that?"

Reggy "No. I heard he was only replaced a few months back. Till then it was the real Moody. Good that I did not annoy him in the class"

"Smart move," Harry said with a small smile. He was surprised Cedric had dreamt of what should have happened in the original timeline. That was mysterious—but good. It gave Harry hope that his actions could save people who will die in the future. Good news for Sirius.

Their conversation was interrupted by a rush of wings overhead as the morning owl post arrived. Students eagerly unfolded their copies of the Daily Prophet, the usual breakfast chatter dying away as they absorbed the news.

"TRAGEDY AT TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT," screamed the main headline. Below it, in smaller text, "Boy-Who-Lived Kidnapped; Dark Plot Foiled."

Roger read aloud from his copy:

"In a shocking turn of events during the Triwizard Tournament's final task, the Boy-Who-Lived, Charles Potter (14), was kidnapped by followers of You-Know-Who in an apparent attempt to use dark magic to bring their master back. Sources say that young Potter managed a daring escape, though details remain unclear. Minister Fudge assures the public that claims of You-Know-Who's involvement are 'patently absurd.'

'No magic exists that can bring back the dead. This dark ritual nonsense is just that—nonsense,' the Minister said. 'Mr. Potter's account reflects the confusion and fear of the moment...'

"Bollocks," Elvinia muttered, drawing surprised looks from those around her. "What? We all know something bigger happened."

Arabella, meanwhile, pointed to another article. "Look here: 'INFLUENTIAL MINISTRY OFFICIALS FOUND DEAD; INVESTIGATION ONGOING.'"

She read, her voice dropping as the words sank in: "The wills of several prominent Ministry officials were enacted late last night, indicating their deaths. The cause is still under investigation. Among the deceased are Lucius Malfoy..."

She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy sat, his face expressionless, an unopened newspaper before him.

"Merlin," Cedric breathed. "What really happened last night?"

Harry stayed silent, keeping his focus on his breakfast while his friends debated theories. His eyes met Fleur's across the hall. She gave him a small, knowing nod, a silent message that they would talk later—somewhere far from prying eyes.

"Look at this," Reggy pointed to a smaller piece on the back page. "They're saying that the tournament results are pending review due to 'special circumstances.'"

"Special circumstances?" Roger scoffed. "That's an understatement."

"Speaking of special," Elvinia said, her sharp eyes on Harry, "anyone else notice our resident champion is being oddly quiet?"

Harry met her gaze, his expression calm. "Sometimes," he said, rising from the table, "it's better to watch and wait rather than add to the speculation." He gathered his belongings, offering a slight smile. "Besides, I have a Charms assignment that won't finish itself."

As Harry made his way out of the Great Hall, he could hear the conversations growing louder behind him. Rumors would spread, theories would abound, but Harry knew the truth would remain buried—right where he wanted it.

The game had changed, and Harry had made the first move. Now, he would watch as the pieces fell.

As he stepped into the corridor, a familiar voice called after him. "Escaping the chaos, 'Arry?"

He turned to see Fleur approaching, her expression a careful mix of public concern and private understanding. Before he could answer, more footsteps echoed from behind.

"Running away from my questions, Potter?" Elvinia had followed, with Cedric and Roger trailing after her.

"Since when do you care about Charms assignments?" Elvinia pressed, eyebrow raised.

"Since Professor Flitwick might actually fail me if I don't meet his standards," Harry replied dryly. "I have my priorities—like finishing my Charms Mastery before graduation."

"Speaking of priorities," Cedric began, but before he could continue, Alicia appeared around the corner, Angelina beside her.

"There you are!" Alicia said, dragging Angelina along. "Did you see the Prophet? It's a load of rubbish, isn't it?"

They all ended up drifting toward an empty classroom. Harry sighed—so much for a quiet escape. Once inside, Fleur casually cast privacy spells on the door, and Harry nodded approvingly.

"Alright," Angelina said, hopping up onto a desk, "what really happened last night? The Prophet's telling tales, Dumbledore's being cryptic, and half the Slytherins look like they've seen ghosts."

"More like they've lost family members," Elvinia said, her tone grim. "Those weren't just Ministry officials—they were-"

"Death Eaters," Harry finished quietly. The room fell silent at his words. "You all know it, even if the Prophet won't admit it."

"But how do you know?" Roger asked, and quickly added, "Not that I doubt you."

"Charles named them," Harry replied. "He told us last night. The names you read in the paper—those were the ones who were there when he was taken."

"So something happened where Charles was portkeyed to? A battle?" Fleur asked.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "There was a confrontation. Not with Charles though. He is not strong enough. Maybe after he escaped there was a battle. I should have been the one to reach the cup first had the imposter not intervened. The battle should have been fun."

Elvinia gave Harry a pointed look. "You and your meaning of fun. You should think about safety sometimes. Also running away trouble."

"Speaking of trouble," Alicia said, leaning in, "have you heard how Charles escaped? Ronald told me Charles was babbling about some mysterious savior before they took him to the hospital wing."

Harry kept his expression neutral. "Yes, there was someone who helped him. But I don't know who it was. The Aurors are investigating."

"But-" Roger began, but was cut off by a sharp knock at the door. The door opened to reveal Sirius, his expression serious.

"Sorry to interrupt, everyone, but I need to borrow my godson for a moment," Sirius said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Harry followed Sirius out into the corridor, leaving behind his curious friends. Their muffled voices resumed as the door closed. Harry felt a pang of guilt—they deserved answers, but this was his war, and he intended to fight it alone. Someday, maybe, they would understand why he kept so many secrets. For now, their safety lay in ignorance.

Besides, Harry had more immediate concerns—like convincing Sirius he wasn't involved in last night's events. While he trusted Sirius with his life, there were certain things best left unsaid. Harry definitely didn't want his godfather to know he'd taken many lives last night.

Just another typical day in the life of Harry Potter.