Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Very Silly School Crossover Fic
The Very Silly School Crossover Fic
By Dr. T
She-Who-Must-Be-Mentioned and her subsidiaries and partners own the Canon Potter-verse. Ronald Searle and various UK companies and associations own the crossover rights. I indulged in crossing over by taking a hockey stick to the pair of them. The Slytherins pouted and complained to their fathers, while the St. Trinian girls merely stuck out their collective tongues and fed Malfoy to a hippogriff – and then had to feed the hippogriff a tummy soother.
*
Chapter 03 – The Year of the Tri-Wizard, Part I
During her first year at St. Trinian’s, Hermione had to spend all of her breaks catching up with the Muggle world’s technology. The internet was opening up new vistas, and Hermione wanted to join in the new St. Trinian geek hobby of hacking. By the end of her first year at the school, Hermione was only rated the number twelve computer geek at the school, and she was determined to move up. Still, by the end of the school year she was not only caught up but ahead in all of her mundane and magical studies, and could concentrate on having a bit more fun this summer (fun which included computer work, naturally). She would still spend two weeks with her parents abroad, but the rest of the summer she not only studied but exchanged visits with her many friends – of course, just having a number of friends was still somewhat novel to the once-lonely girl.
She had tried to stay in touch with Ron Weasley the previous year, but he had never responded to her letters. She wondered if he had only put up with her because Harry had stuck with her after the troll incident, and because he could rely on at least glancing over her class notes and because she would at least point out the worst errors on his homework. He had totally cut Hermione, and had only responded to Harry’s letters to him with a few terse lines, mostly complaining about how Harry was no longer flying for Gryffindor. Neville Longbottom had responded with a few short notes, which tapered off by the beginning of the summer, while Ginny had also never bothered to respond.
Hermione was hurt by that, especially Ron’s cutting of her. It certainly cured her of the occasional thoughts she had had about the boy.
Overall, Hermione decided that St. Trinian’s was now the better school for her, although she was very glad she had not spent her first two years there. She would have been a terrible St. Trinian first year, and would likely have been bullied horribly. With two years of Hogwarts behind her, not to mention having had to deal with gits like Malfoy and teachers like Binns and Snape, Hermione was equal to the unique features of St. Trinian’s. Somehow, despite the seeming chaos, swots like her could learn more at St. Trinian’s than at most schools. Granted, that put her in the minority of the student population there, but the opportunities were there for those that wanted them. More than Hogwarts had offered her, she was now certain of that.
Part of that process was magical, Hermione had to acknowledge, a use of magic that was apparently unknown at Hogwarts and, to her frustration, unexplained at St. Trinian’s. “A magician does not reveal her secrets,” was all Miss Fritton would say. Of the staff, only Mister Lupin would comment more, and he only said, “It’s legal, it’s secret, but more people should have been able to come up with something similar.”
This was frustrating to a person like Hermione, to say the least.
Another part was far simpler to understand, at least for the magical classes. All the magical classes had a third more class time at St. Trinian’s than at Hogwarts, and it was nearly all hands-on work. Charms and Transfiguration especially had Hermione easily casting three times more often than she would have been had she stayed at Hogwarts, and Defense was not far behind. On the other hand, there was less than a third the amount of time spent on theory in those two subjects. Defense and Herbology were also more hands-on, but still included about three quarters of the theory. Potions had about the same amount of theory, but where Snape required paper after paper on the effects of potions, Miss Fence required more concise papers on potions and equally concise papers on ingredients and preparations, things Snape usually just snarled about when students were unable to guess at what he wanted correctly. The custom of all St. Trinian instructors not to read more than 10% over their required word limits made even Hermione concise.
And at the same time, Hermione was not only able to keep up the mundane Astronomy course (the magical aspects of astrology were easily dealt with within the class), but to add Runes and Arithmancy on the magical side and take classes in maths, biology, literature, French, history, and Latin on the mundane side. Hermione was only sorry she was unable to take Divination or any of the other mundane courses, although she expected she would take a unit on chemistry at some point. Still, even she couldn’t take all the courses. All her academic courses plus swimming filled her school days from 8:00-4:00, and the computer work and homework would fill her evening in the upcoming years as they had the last.
Hermione was only slightly disappointed that she and Harry had not developed their relationship beyond a friendship, but in many ways she was more secure in that friendship than she had been before they left Hogwarts. She smiled wryly; she was still no more interested in Quidditch than she had ever been, but would be spending 5 days with Harry at the Quidditch World Cup in August. Of course he had told her, “I know you might not care for the actual game, but the World Cups are the biggest gatherings of magical people there are! The days leading up to the actual game are more like an old time fair than the lead up to a game.” Catching himself, he had then admitted, “Well, so I’m told anyway.”
Hermione sighed. Harry was still a little young for her to be serious about, but sometimes he could be so darn cute! She had to admit that he and Jane made a cute couple, even if it aggravated some of the other girls who had been trying to chase Harry down. With Harry as the only male student in the school there was bound to be more than a little competition for him.
Hermione stretched and picked up the computer programming text, deciding to take it outside and work on her tan. There should be a fair number of unattached wizards in their mid-teens at the World Cup!
*
Hermione was impressed by the crowd that had already gathered for the World cup, days before the actual game would start (she very much hoped it would be a short game). She had been escorted to the sprawling camp grounds by Sirius Black, who hustled her through the informal rows and blocks of tents. “We have our own set of blocks,” Sirius told her as they hurried through the somewhat crowded dirt lanes.
“We do?” Hermione asked, a little breathlessly.
Sirius nodded. “Well, technically the school has four of the sites. A three bedroom tent Harry, you and his girlfriend, and Miss Fritton are staying in; a little tent for Remus and me; and two multi-bedroom tents for a dozen other students and their chaperones. All the rest of the sites are for families associated with St. Trinian’s: a few old students and current students and their families. Only about a third have arrived so far.”
That made sense to Hermione.
Hermione had read about magical tents, and so was not surprised that the four St. Trinian tents were the same size on the outside. She ducked into the one pointed out to her, and she found herself in a large living/dining area, with a kitchen off to one side. There were four doors, and Hermione correctly guessed at three bedrooms and a bath. She would later learn that Miss Fritton had a bed/bath suite.
Jane and Harry were in the kitchen finishing cleaning the lunch dishes, and Miss Fritton came out of her bedroom to join the three. “Welcome, Miss Granger,” she said. “I hope you brought plenty of Galleons – there are many interesting stalls off closer to the stadium.” Well out of sight as far as the Muggles were concerned.
Hermione shook her head. Harry spoke up. “I told her I would pay for everything upfront, and she could pay me back in pounds at school.” British money was much more useful there.
“Very good. Now, you two remember the rules you are to follow. Miss Granger, keep your wand handy at all times, but only use it in an emergency. You three should stick together outside the St. Trinian area. Agreed?”
Knowing Miss Fritton would not like to be questioned about rules she had already laid down to Harry, Hermione managed just to reply, “Yes, Miss.”
“I need to meet some people. I will be back after dinner. You have everything you need, boy-o?”
“I do, Camilla.”
“Enjoy yourselves, then dears.”
Hermione looked at the two after Fritton left. Harry knew what she wanted to know. “Besides what she told you, we may use magic in the tent, and we aren’t supposed to be in each other’s bedrooms without the doors being open.”
“Okay,” Hermione said, only slightly surprised there were so few rules, “where should we go first?”
“There is supposed to be a row of book and pamphlet sellers under the east side of the stadium,” Jane said, teasingly. “If we go today and get it out of your system, we can have other kinds fun the rest of the time.”
Hermione stuck her tongue out at her friend.
That night, as the two girls laid in bed, Jane said, “Hermione, you aren’t just my friend because of Harry, are you?”
“I don’t think so,” Hermione replied in her usual thoughtful manner. “That is probably why we became closer friends at the end of school, but we were friends before that.”
Jane propped her head on her hand, elbow on the mattress and looked at Hermione in the dimness. “I know we’re young, but Harry and I are pretty serious.”
Hermione mirrored Jane’s position. “In the regular world, I would say you’re deceiving yourself, but in the magical world, about three quarters of the pairings made at our age result in marriage. So, you could easily be correct.”
“Harry hopes you will always be part of his life, and therefore I really hope we will be part of each other’s lives as well.”
“What are you considering?”
The next evening, when Camilla returned to her tent, she saw that, unlike the night before, when the doors to the two other bedrooms had been shut, tonight one was open. Curious, she peeked in.
All three teens were on the bed. Harry had on a t-shirt and boxers, as well as socks. Hermione and Jane both wore light pajamas and socks. Harry was asleep on his back. Jane was asleep, mostly lying on his chest, his right arm around her. Hermione was on her side, curled around Harry’s left arm.
Camilla smiled at their cuteness. She would be unsurprised to find out they slept the same way every other night they were at the Cup, and was pleased to learn they went no further. She did remind herself to have serious talks with all three, to make certain they did not hurt one another.
Fortunately, the St. Trinian tents were far removed from the areas attacked the night after the game. Had the Death Eaters made their way to that area, they would have gotten a strong reception.
*
October 31
Albus Dumbledore took a deep breath to steady himself. He was not looking forward to making this trip, but it could not be as harrowing as the others had insinuated. One would think he was off to confront Voldemort the way everyone else had ducked away.
Having apparated, Dumbledore strode towards the side gate of St. Trinian’s reserved for magical entrances. He was surprised, as he got closer, to feel powerful warning wards spring up around him. He could tell he had tripped alarms, and wondered if it was merely the late hour which had caused this, or if there was some other reason. He pulled out his wand and went to full alert. If there was danger, he would not let it sneak up on him.
Five minutes later, he turned in the direction he could tell he was being approached from. “Who is there?” he demanded.
“Albus?”
“Remus?”
“You really are a damned fool,” Sirius called out as he and his friend approached.
“In what manner?” Dumbledore demanded. “Granted, it is slightly after ten, but that is not terribly late to approach a magical school, even one with such strong roots in the Muggle world, on Halloween.”
“No, approaching a concentration of witches on All Hallows Eve is always safe,” Remus retorted.
Dumbledore blinked. “I had not considered it in that light,” he acknowledged. “The witches at Hogwarts have not held any ceremonies since just before my time there as a student.”
“That we know of,” Sirius pointed out.
Dumbledore ignored that. “Even so, I need to talk with Miss Fritton.”
“That may not be possible,” Sirius stated, while Remus whispered into some object in his hand. “Still, come along with us, where it will be safe, and we’ll see if she can come and see you tonight.”
Shrugging, Dumbledore followed the pair around towards the back of the school on a narrow gravel trail through the woods. He found himself at what had been built as a large carriage house/stables, with rooms over them for the original outside staff; grooms; stable boys; grounds keepers; and so forth. The ground floor now partly served as a garage for six cars and where the grounds keeper kept his lawn mower and other equipment. The other two thirds of the ground floor, not accessible from the rest of the building, was where the girls interested in cars and motors operated from, plus an area for one of the many ‘student group labs’ – that is, where one of the girls’ stills was located. Part of the upper storey was the grounds keeper’s apartment and special sleeping quarters, nearly half was housing for the school’s house elves, and the rest was connected to the distillery.
The school’s resident males had backed the cars out of the garage area. The night was chilly, but they had a fire going in a steel barrel, and they had obviously grilled part of their dinner over it. Only one of the garage doors was open, and they had set up a few trestle tables in the rest of the garage. There was a large poker game going on at one, and Harry was studying at another.
Harry looked up, frowned, and left the area, not returning Dumbledore’s greeting. The Headmaster looked at the other two wizards, hoping for an explanation.
“We can guess what brought you here, Albus,” Sirius stated. “If Harry was somehow entered into the Tri-Wizard, you are going to be in a lot of trouble.”
“Obviously Harry did not enter himself. . . .” Dumbledore started, but Remus cut him off.
“And don’t think he asked anyone to enter him,” he warned.
“I can’t see him doing so,” Dumbledore agreed, “but others will find it less unlikely.”
“Ah, Albus,” Fritton stated, coming in through the back door. “I take it you incompetents at Hogwarts allowed Harry’s name to be entered into that silly tournament of yours?”
Dumbledore winced at that, but he could hardly deny the gist of the accusation.
“Was he entered as the Hogwarts’ champion, or as St. Trinian’s?”
“Neither; his school was not specified.”
“Nonsense,” Fritton retorted with a sniff. “Miss Black, Mister Black, Mister Lupin, and I will be at Hogwarts at nine tomorrow morning.” Sirius made a face at that; he had hoped to sleep in. “Now, I must get back.”
She took her leave, leaving Dumbledore standing there, rather nonplused, with all the male staff staring at him with at least some dislike. They all liked Harry to some degree, and were not happy with this turn of events. The bursar was also unhappy because he was the only person to bet that Harry would not be entered, deeming the 100-1 odds offered worth the plunge. None of the student bookies would take bets that Harry would be entered.
There was a reason why nearly all of them with even a touch of magic took divination.
The St. Trinian contingent, including Harry, arrived at the gates of Hogwarts via portkey at 8:55. Most of the Hogwarts staff had 9:00 classes, so they were met by Hagrid. He took them to the Great Hall, where Fritton, Miss Black, Remus, and Harry gathered around the Goblet for the next ninety minutes. Sirius stayed out of their way after he sent Hagrid off to notify Dumbledore they were finished, but no one immediately returned. Twenty minutes later, shrugging, Remus led the group to the staff table and ordered tea and biscuits for the group from an elf; they then sat down to wait.
Finally, a little after 11:00, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Moody, and Snape came into the Hall, along with Ludo Bagman. “Get out from behind that table, Potter! You arrogant little pissant, if you were still a student here I’d have you in detention for a month!”
“If I were still a student here, Snivellus, I would of course not be sitting here,” Harry stated.
“Manners, Mister Potter,” Fritton reproved gently. “First of all, it should have been Mister Snivellus, or, as they so pretentiously prefer, Professor Snivellus. Just because he is so uncouth to a guest doesn’t mean you should be.”
“Yes, Miss Fritton.”
“So, will Harry be staying today or moving back some other time this week?” Dumbledore inquired.
The entire St. Trinian group glared. “Why would I come back to this shit ho. . . .” Harry started, but seeing the look in Fritton’s eye, amended, “I mean this latrine of a school?”
Fritton nodded in satisfaction. “Yes, we can hardly allow Harry to damage his education by attending classes here. Before we discuss his possible participation in this farce of yours, we should all hear what Miss Black has determined.”
Cygnia Black’s glare kept the opposition group quiet, and then she gathered her thoughts. “First of all, Dumbledore, you were wrong. Mister Potter’s name was entered under St. Trinian’s name – that was merely written in a fairly standard invisible ink. Judging from the writing style, the slip of parchment was cut from what would appear to have been a piece of Mister Potter’s homework from his first year. Mister Potter does have a magical link to the Goblet, but not a terribly strong one. If he were the actual age you were supposed to allow approach the Cup, he could easily shrug off the magical penalty. Until he actually competes in the first task, he would absorb at most a tenth of the damage extracted by the Cup. Whoever wrote St. Trinian’s and then submitted the slip of parchment would have to pay the rest of the penalty. At his age, however, his core might be slightly damaged, so we will have to study that a bit more before deciding if he will refuse to compete.”
“But we’ve already announced it!” Bagman bleated.
Fritton frowned at that, and decided she would have to visit The Prophet. “That you were precipitous in your announcement, as well as incompetent in allowing this to happen in the first place, is hardly a matter for our concern,” was all she said to him, however. She looked at Dumbledore. “On the off chance we decide that Mister Potter will compete, I shall of course attend as an equal to you and the others. If Harry does compete, he will be here on those dates, and on those dates only. We are not interested in joining in the self-congratulations of your three establishments.” She turned her attention to Snape. “If there is any interference with Mister Potter from the members of any of the three schools, student or staff, rest assured, you will not enjoy the consequences.” She turned back to Dumbledore. “We shall stay until the beginning of luncheon, where we shall make a statement. We will not be staying beyond that. Please forward all the information on the tournament that you and the other heads have. Any surprises afterwards will also have severe consequences.” As some students were already making their way in the Hall for an early lunch, Dumbledore could hardly make a scene. Since a few of those students had turned around once they had spotted Harry, students who were not still in class would be making their way to the Great Hall fairly quickly.
Shortly before noon, with some eighty percent of the Hogwarts students and all the visitors and staff present, Dumbledore stood and stated, “As we suspected, upon further investigation we found that Mister Potter did not enter himself, and likely did not ask to be entered. . . .” He stopped at a signal from Fritton, who in turn motioned to Harry.
Harry stood and swore an oath on his magic that he had not entered his name into the tournament and had not asked anyone to enter his name. A simple set of sparks showed he still had his magic.
Fritton then spoke up, “We will be deciding over the next few days if the penalty Mister Potter would have to pay for not competing is too high. Certainly, whoever entered his name would have to pay at least four-fifths of any such penalty, and possibly much more.” She had remembered that when dealing with the magically raised she had to use fractions, as few knew what a percentage was. “In any case, should Mister Potter be forced to compete, he will only be here for the actual events. Thank you.”
With that, the St. Trinian’s left the Great Hall. Once outside, Draco Malfoy, who had been lurking at the doorway, called out, “How’s the new school, Miss Potter?”
“Since unlike you I like girls, it’s great,” Harry retorted at the same volume but not breaking pace. “It’s great not being held back by the in-bred.” And with that, they were gone.
Fritton had contacted several St. Trinian alumnae who worked at various magical media organizations before going to Hogwarts, saying that a statement would be issued that afternoon. When The Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless broke the story of Harry’s participation that afternoon, they had that disclaimer in place. The Wireless had the new version of events out by late that afternoon, while The Prophet had the story in the next morning’s edition. Voldemort, being kept by Winky the house elf, was not pleased that Potter might slip out of the tournament. He would settle for someone else for his ritual, but really would prefer not to.
Miss Fritton had sent Harry off to class after lunch, and met with Cygnia, Remus, and Sirius later that afternoon. “How bad would it actually be if Harry did not participate?”
“Well, he certainly would not lose his magic,” Cygnia responded. “Since he would currently take a ten-to-twenty-percent hit off his current magic, it may or may not damage his core. If it did not, he would be hurt, and he would certainly be weakened for at least six to eight weeks but in theory it might just be that temporary. However, if that hit cost him part of his actual core?” She shrugged. “It could make him incapable of actively using his magic for several months. It could take him years to recover. Harry is an immensely powerful young man. Still, when he did recover, he could be barely above average for his age, and it is possible that his core would not only not grow into his current potential, but not even twenty percent less. It could even be stopped at what he had left, which would, for an adult wizard, be slightly below normal. Considering his reputation, he will always be under magical threats. Unless he totally disappeared from magical Britain and was totally able to establish a new life under a new name elsewhere, I wouldn’t give him much of a chance at even surviving much past leaving school if that happened.”
The other three sat quietly for a moment. Finally, Sirius asked, “Any odds?”
His great aunt/cousin (they were, after all, interbred Blacks) sighed. “I would have to say there is at least an eighty percent chance he would lose part of his current core and it would then stop growing. There is at least a ten percent chance that he would never be able to actively use his magic again. I doubt there is more than a three percent chance of him making a total recovery and going on to anything like his current potential.”
“How bad is the tournament?” Remus asked after a few moments of silence.
“Bad, but not impossible,” Fritton answered. “Can you two manage to teach Harry to use a summoning charm? And I mean to the point where he can summon anything he knows the location of if it’s within, say, a mile or so?”
The two looked at each other. “Yes,” Remus finally stated.
“How about the bubblehead charm by next January?”
“How long would he have to keep it going?” Sirius asked.
“Up to an hour.”
Remus winced. “That would be harder. Harry has the power potential to do just about any charm there is once, but sustaining it with his current active, as opposed to potential, core would be the problem.”
Fritton stood and very obviously set a sheet of paper over a stack of parchment. “I am going to talk with Harry. You may leave and talk somewhere else, if you wish.”
The three took the hint, and as soon as Fritton stepped out of her office, the trio not only stayed but was looking through the stack of parchment – the rules of the Tri-Wizard and the set-up of the three tasks.
“Harry can certainly fly, but can he outfly a dragon? Even one shackled near her nest?” Sirius wondered.
“Possibly,” Cygnia retorted, “but it would be better if he didn’t try to get the egg that way. Still, flying as a delivery system might work. Let’s see what potions Melinda can of that think might work.”
“And Harry will need cover for what we’re doing,” Remus pointed out.
“Of course,” Cygnia snapped. “I am not Sirius and so need not be reminded!”
Sirius flushed but said nothing.
*
Harry had reluctantly gone back to Hogwarts, under his cousin’s supervision, for the ceremonial ‘weighing of the wands.’ Camilla Fritton had no problem staring down Rita Skeeter, and steered Harry into interviews with slightly less unscrupulous reporters.
Unfortunately, however, time progressed and all too quickly for Harry’s preferences, it was soon the morning of the first task. Right after breakfast, the St. Trinian’s crew appeared in a field just slightly off center of the path between Hogwarts itself and the area where the first task would be held. Magical tents were quickly erected, and by lunch the St. Trinian bookies were doing a booming trade suckering in Hogwarts students to bet against the various champions’ survival. Slytherins were especially eager to bet against Harry’s survival, but there were takers from all the other Houses. Few bets were made by any of the students against the survival of any of the other champions, despite having that option.
Many of the non-bookies were seen flying about their temporary compound (they would be leaving the following morning), and all the St. Trinian students were seen wearing matching knapsacks with numbers on them. While many noticed these things, none took note of the fact that while the St. Trinian girls were again armed with hockey or lacrosse sticks when they made their way to the reviewing stands that evening, none had the knapsacks, although every fourth girl had a satchel filled with snacks.
As the task was explained to the champions inside a tent, another official explained it to the crowd outside. In the tent, Harry noted that only Cedric was unaware of the fact they would be going up against dragons. Unfortunately for Cedric, he drew the Chinese fireball, perhaps the second nastiest of the four possibilities. Harry drew the Welsh Green.
When it was Harry turn, he marched out into the arena and first summoned a broomstick from the encampment. (Of course, all the broomsticks except for a few Firebolts had been well-secured inside the tents.) Harry made a show of flying around, keeping his distance from the wary dragon, for about three minutes, and then he flew back to the part of the area closest to the encampment and summoned ‘knapsack thirty-seven.’ Again, all the knapsacks but this one had been well-stowed, but examining any of the seventy-five knapsacks would show different potions and other compounds which could have been useful for other possible tasks. Whatever doubts anyone might have, no one could prove Harry had been prepared specifically for dragons.
The knapsack flew into the area. Harry caught it and, just as the St. Trinian girls let out a shout which slightly attracted the dragon’s attention, took out two jars and shot off at full speed at the dragon. The dragon rose to breath fire at Harry, but the flames hit the first jar, which Harry had tossed down at the dragon’s mouth. The potion burst, and resulted in snuffing out the dragon’s flame and giving it a coughing fit. Harry swept down and, dropping the second jar so it broke harmlessly on the ground (he had it in case the first didn’t induce a strong enough coughing fit), picked up the golden egg and flew off before the dragon could fully recover. It total, it had taken Harry a little over seven minutes.
While Karkaroff complained that bringing in outside items was a form of cheating, the other two Heads had to agree with Fritton, who pointed out that summoning items was in fact permitted, and, knowing her reputation, no matter what anyone might suspect, they knew those other 74 knapsacks would merely show that Harry had prepared for many eventualities, not just the dragons. Fritton and Dumbledore each scored Harry a 10, Maxime an 8, and Karkaroff a 5, giving him 33 out of 40 points. Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour also managed to secure their eggs and leave the arena. However, Viktor’s strategy caused several of the eggs to be destroyed and took nearly twelve minutes, so while Karkaroff had scored him an 8, the other three each scored him 5, for a total of 23. Fleur took over 15 minutes to distract her dragon to the point she could get her egg, and she had been slightly flamed as she escaped with it. Maxime scored her a 9, Fritton and Dumbledore each 8, and Karkaroff a 4, for a total of 29.
Cedric managed to grab his egg in about the same time as Fleur, but he was flamed to the point where he did not fully escape the arena with his egg. Had the dragon handlers not intervened, Cedric would have at least lost body parts, if not his life. Dumbledore scored him a 7, Maxime and Fritton each a 6, and Karkaroff a 3, for a total of 22.
Happy with their winnings and Harry’s performance, the St. Trinian girls sang as they escorted their champion back to their tents, so they could have an all-night party before leaving.
Camilla Fritton stretched early the next morning and sat up in bed. She smirked at the exhausted Sirius, and got up and made her way into the bathroom in her suite. Leaving the snoring Sirius in the bedroom, Camilla stepped out into the parlor of the tent and looked around. Seeing it empty, she slipped on her robe and stepped out of the tent into the chill air. Whatever partying had gone on had obviously gone on in the tents, as only Remus, asleep on a chair in the center of the circle of tents, was visible.
Nodding, Camilla turned towards the door of the other bedroom in this tent, and frowned when she saw the door was ajar. At school, Harry only had to keep his doors open when he had ‘guests’ (students, usually Jane, or Jane and Hermione) visiting. Wondering if there was a replay of the World Cup going on, she pushed the door fully opened and, for a few seconds could only blink. Finally, she cleared her throat, and was greeted by two loud “eeks” and a very muffled one, and some rapid movements on the part of three of the four students. “Despite the current activities,” she stated with the mirth very obvious in her voice, “Miss Coral, Miss Granger, Miss Belknap, you are on the potion, correct?”
The only unembarrassed student was Candace Coral, who was not only the current chief of the Jock Tribe but head of the informal Sappho Society (which cut across tribal lines, and was for girls between the ages of 13-17 who were at least interested in some experimentation). “I don’t have any need for it,” Candy stated. “And while neither Jane nor Hermione have any current need, they are both on it.”
“Very good. Harry, remember I cannot condone such behavior at St. Trinian’s on school nights. On Friday and Saturday nights, we will have to work out a new system to allow you and your friends your privacy. Understood?”
“Yes, Miss,” Harry responded, somewhat shakily.
“Very good. Miss Belknap, Miss Coral, carry on.” She left, shutting the door behind her. Candy shrugged and with a smile went back to work at Hermione’s lap to finish her initiation into the Society, while Jane went back to Harry’s lap for a similar reason. Harry shrugged, and pulled Hermione into a hug.
“Thank you again for taking us to St. Trinian’s,” Harry said, moving his left hand stroking Jane’s hair once he and Hermione were bare shoulder to shoulder.
With her left hand stroking Candy’s hair, mirroring Harry, Hermione turned her head and kissed him. “Thank you for being my best friend.” She moved to twist them into slightly facing each other (while not disturbing their lovers’ work) and his right hand to her breast, and they enjoyed the benefits of being best friends.
Leaving the teens to enjoy their morning and Sirius to sleep off his exertions, Camilla dressed and went up to the castle for a meeting with the other three school heads.
“And what is this meeting about?” Karkaroff almost snarled once they had all arrived in Dumbledore’s office.
“Two things. First, the second task. I signed off on the first task, but have not on the second, as is required,” Fritton pointed out.
“The students already have the clue,” Maxime said with a shrug.
“True, and while I will agree to the general outline of the second task, I will not agree to the taking of hostages. No matter what the safeguards, no one should be at risk other than the champions.”
“I disagree,” Karkaroff stated firmly.
“In that case, I would only agree if we are the hostages,” Fritton shot back. “At least we would know all the risks.”
That gave the other three pause. On the one hand, Krum would likely be favored in this event. On the other hand, Karkaroff would never agree to risk himself for any reason. Maxime knew that she would be difficult to rescue due to her size, and the Delacour girl, being part-Veela, would be at a disadvantage in the Lake. Dumbledore didn’t really trust anyone other than himself, and even then only using the Elder Wand, to put the hostages into the required trances.
“What would you suggest, then?”
Fritton shrugged. “Use some symbol common to each school so that they are competing in rescuing something for school pride. I know Hogwarts has a House Cup, and we have the Founder’s Trophy.” This was actually as much of a joke as a prize at St. Trinian’s. Every year, it started off in the possession of the Piranha Tribe, who tried to guard it against all takers, or to recapture it if it was lost. Rather than risk themselves, Karkaroff and Maxime agreed to put up school trophies as well.
“And what was the other matter?” Dumbledore asked.
“The Yule Ball. May only couples attend? May only members of the four schools attend? Some of my girls may wish to come but either are not seeing anyone or of course may be seeing magicals outside of the four schools.”
“Any member your school fourteen or over may attend,” Dumbledore said. “If they have a magical date, they may bring him as well.”
By Dr. T
She-Who-Must-Be-Mentioned and her subsidiaries and partners own the Canon Potter-verse. Ronald Searle and various UK companies and associations own the crossover rights. I indulged in crossing over by taking a hockey stick to the pair of them. The Slytherins pouted and complained to their fathers, while the St. Trinian girls merely stuck out their collective tongues and fed Malfoy to a hippogriff – and then had to feed the hippogriff a tummy soother.
*
Chapter 03 – The Year of the Tri-Wizard, Part I
During her first year at St. Trinian’s, Hermione had to spend all of her breaks catching up with the Muggle world’s technology. The internet was opening up new vistas, and Hermione wanted to join in the new St. Trinian geek hobby of hacking. By the end of her first year at the school, Hermione was only rated the number twelve computer geek at the school, and she was determined to move up. Still, by the end of the school year she was not only caught up but ahead in all of her mundane and magical studies, and could concentrate on having a bit more fun this summer (fun which included computer work, naturally). She would still spend two weeks with her parents abroad, but the rest of the summer she not only studied but exchanged visits with her many friends – of course, just having a number of friends was still somewhat novel to the once-lonely girl.
She had tried to stay in touch with Ron Weasley the previous year, but he had never responded to her letters. She wondered if he had only put up with her because Harry had stuck with her after the troll incident, and because he could rely on at least glancing over her class notes and because she would at least point out the worst errors on his homework. He had totally cut Hermione, and had only responded to Harry’s letters to him with a few terse lines, mostly complaining about how Harry was no longer flying for Gryffindor. Neville Longbottom had responded with a few short notes, which tapered off by the beginning of the summer, while Ginny had also never bothered to respond.
Hermione was hurt by that, especially Ron’s cutting of her. It certainly cured her of the occasional thoughts she had had about the boy.
Overall, Hermione decided that St. Trinian’s was now the better school for her, although she was very glad she had not spent her first two years there. She would have been a terrible St. Trinian first year, and would likely have been bullied horribly. With two years of Hogwarts behind her, not to mention having had to deal with gits like Malfoy and teachers like Binns and Snape, Hermione was equal to the unique features of St. Trinian’s. Somehow, despite the seeming chaos, swots like her could learn more at St. Trinian’s than at most schools. Granted, that put her in the minority of the student population there, but the opportunities were there for those that wanted them. More than Hogwarts had offered her, she was now certain of that.
Part of that process was magical, Hermione had to acknowledge, a use of magic that was apparently unknown at Hogwarts and, to her frustration, unexplained at St. Trinian’s. “A magician does not reveal her secrets,” was all Miss Fritton would say. Of the staff, only Mister Lupin would comment more, and he only said, “It’s legal, it’s secret, but more people should have been able to come up with something similar.”
This was frustrating to a person like Hermione, to say the least.
Another part was far simpler to understand, at least for the magical classes. All the magical classes had a third more class time at St. Trinian’s than at Hogwarts, and it was nearly all hands-on work. Charms and Transfiguration especially had Hermione easily casting three times more often than she would have been had she stayed at Hogwarts, and Defense was not far behind. On the other hand, there was less than a third the amount of time spent on theory in those two subjects. Defense and Herbology were also more hands-on, but still included about three quarters of the theory. Potions had about the same amount of theory, but where Snape required paper after paper on the effects of potions, Miss Fence required more concise papers on potions and equally concise papers on ingredients and preparations, things Snape usually just snarled about when students were unable to guess at what he wanted correctly. The custom of all St. Trinian instructors not to read more than 10% over their required word limits made even Hermione concise.
And at the same time, Hermione was not only able to keep up the mundane Astronomy course (the magical aspects of astrology were easily dealt with within the class), but to add Runes and Arithmancy on the magical side and take classes in maths, biology, literature, French, history, and Latin on the mundane side. Hermione was only sorry she was unable to take Divination or any of the other mundane courses, although she expected she would take a unit on chemistry at some point. Still, even she couldn’t take all the courses. All her academic courses plus swimming filled her school days from 8:00-4:00, and the computer work and homework would fill her evening in the upcoming years as they had the last.
Hermione was only slightly disappointed that she and Harry had not developed their relationship beyond a friendship, but in many ways she was more secure in that friendship than she had been before they left Hogwarts. She smiled wryly; she was still no more interested in Quidditch than she had ever been, but would be spending 5 days with Harry at the Quidditch World Cup in August. Of course he had told her, “I know you might not care for the actual game, but the World Cups are the biggest gatherings of magical people there are! The days leading up to the actual game are more like an old time fair than the lead up to a game.” Catching himself, he had then admitted, “Well, so I’m told anyway.”
Hermione sighed. Harry was still a little young for her to be serious about, but sometimes he could be so darn cute! She had to admit that he and Jane made a cute couple, even if it aggravated some of the other girls who had been trying to chase Harry down. With Harry as the only male student in the school there was bound to be more than a little competition for him.
Hermione stretched and picked up the computer programming text, deciding to take it outside and work on her tan. There should be a fair number of unattached wizards in their mid-teens at the World Cup!
*
Hermione was impressed by the crowd that had already gathered for the World cup, days before the actual game would start (she very much hoped it would be a short game). She had been escorted to the sprawling camp grounds by Sirius Black, who hustled her through the informal rows and blocks of tents. “We have our own set of blocks,” Sirius told her as they hurried through the somewhat crowded dirt lanes.
“We do?” Hermione asked, a little breathlessly.
Sirius nodded. “Well, technically the school has four of the sites. A three bedroom tent Harry, you and his girlfriend, and Miss Fritton are staying in; a little tent for Remus and me; and two multi-bedroom tents for a dozen other students and their chaperones. All the rest of the sites are for families associated with St. Trinian’s: a few old students and current students and their families. Only about a third have arrived so far.”
That made sense to Hermione.
Hermione had read about magical tents, and so was not surprised that the four St. Trinian tents were the same size on the outside. She ducked into the one pointed out to her, and she found herself in a large living/dining area, with a kitchen off to one side. There were four doors, and Hermione correctly guessed at three bedrooms and a bath. She would later learn that Miss Fritton had a bed/bath suite.
Jane and Harry were in the kitchen finishing cleaning the lunch dishes, and Miss Fritton came out of her bedroom to join the three. “Welcome, Miss Granger,” she said. “I hope you brought plenty of Galleons – there are many interesting stalls off closer to the stadium.” Well out of sight as far as the Muggles were concerned.
Hermione shook her head. Harry spoke up. “I told her I would pay for everything upfront, and she could pay me back in pounds at school.” British money was much more useful there.
“Very good. Now, you two remember the rules you are to follow. Miss Granger, keep your wand handy at all times, but only use it in an emergency. You three should stick together outside the St. Trinian area. Agreed?”
Knowing Miss Fritton would not like to be questioned about rules she had already laid down to Harry, Hermione managed just to reply, “Yes, Miss.”
“I need to meet some people. I will be back after dinner. You have everything you need, boy-o?”
“I do, Camilla.”
“Enjoy yourselves, then dears.”
Hermione looked at the two after Fritton left. Harry knew what she wanted to know. “Besides what she told you, we may use magic in the tent, and we aren’t supposed to be in each other’s bedrooms without the doors being open.”
“Okay,” Hermione said, only slightly surprised there were so few rules, “where should we go first?”
“There is supposed to be a row of book and pamphlet sellers under the east side of the stadium,” Jane said, teasingly. “If we go today and get it out of your system, we can have other kinds fun the rest of the time.”
Hermione stuck her tongue out at her friend.
That night, as the two girls laid in bed, Jane said, “Hermione, you aren’t just my friend because of Harry, are you?”
“I don’t think so,” Hermione replied in her usual thoughtful manner. “That is probably why we became closer friends at the end of school, but we were friends before that.”
Jane propped her head on her hand, elbow on the mattress and looked at Hermione in the dimness. “I know we’re young, but Harry and I are pretty serious.”
Hermione mirrored Jane’s position. “In the regular world, I would say you’re deceiving yourself, but in the magical world, about three quarters of the pairings made at our age result in marriage. So, you could easily be correct.”
“Harry hopes you will always be part of his life, and therefore I really hope we will be part of each other’s lives as well.”
“What are you considering?”
The next evening, when Camilla returned to her tent, she saw that, unlike the night before, when the doors to the two other bedrooms had been shut, tonight one was open. Curious, she peeked in.
All three teens were on the bed. Harry had on a t-shirt and boxers, as well as socks. Hermione and Jane both wore light pajamas and socks. Harry was asleep on his back. Jane was asleep, mostly lying on his chest, his right arm around her. Hermione was on her side, curled around Harry’s left arm.
Camilla smiled at their cuteness. She would be unsurprised to find out they slept the same way every other night they were at the Cup, and was pleased to learn they went no further. She did remind herself to have serious talks with all three, to make certain they did not hurt one another.
Fortunately, the St. Trinian tents were far removed from the areas attacked the night after the game. Had the Death Eaters made their way to that area, they would have gotten a strong reception.
*
October 31
Albus Dumbledore took a deep breath to steady himself. He was not looking forward to making this trip, but it could not be as harrowing as the others had insinuated. One would think he was off to confront Voldemort the way everyone else had ducked away.
Having apparated, Dumbledore strode towards the side gate of St. Trinian’s reserved for magical entrances. He was surprised, as he got closer, to feel powerful warning wards spring up around him. He could tell he had tripped alarms, and wondered if it was merely the late hour which had caused this, or if there was some other reason. He pulled out his wand and went to full alert. If there was danger, he would not let it sneak up on him.
Five minutes later, he turned in the direction he could tell he was being approached from. “Who is there?” he demanded.
“Albus?”
“Remus?”
“You really are a damned fool,” Sirius called out as he and his friend approached.
“In what manner?” Dumbledore demanded. “Granted, it is slightly after ten, but that is not terribly late to approach a magical school, even one with such strong roots in the Muggle world, on Halloween.”
“No, approaching a concentration of witches on All Hallows Eve is always safe,” Remus retorted.
Dumbledore blinked. “I had not considered it in that light,” he acknowledged. “The witches at Hogwarts have not held any ceremonies since just before my time there as a student.”
“That we know of,” Sirius pointed out.
Dumbledore ignored that. “Even so, I need to talk with Miss Fritton.”
“That may not be possible,” Sirius stated, while Remus whispered into some object in his hand. “Still, come along with us, where it will be safe, and we’ll see if she can come and see you tonight.”
Shrugging, Dumbledore followed the pair around towards the back of the school on a narrow gravel trail through the woods. He found himself at what had been built as a large carriage house/stables, with rooms over them for the original outside staff; grooms; stable boys; grounds keepers; and so forth. The ground floor now partly served as a garage for six cars and where the grounds keeper kept his lawn mower and other equipment. The other two thirds of the ground floor, not accessible from the rest of the building, was where the girls interested in cars and motors operated from, plus an area for one of the many ‘student group labs’ – that is, where one of the girls’ stills was located. Part of the upper storey was the grounds keeper’s apartment and special sleeping quarters, nearly half was housing for the school’s house elves, and the rest was connected to the distillery.
The school’s resident males had backed the cars out of the garage area. The night was chilly, but they had a fire going in a steel barrel, and they had obviously grilled part of their dinner over it. Only one of the garage doors was open, and they had set up a few trestle tables in the rest of the garage. There was a large poker game going on at one, and Harry was studying at another.
Harry looked up, frowned, and left the area, not returning Dumbledore’s greeting. The Headmaster looked at the other two wizards, hoping for an explanation.
“We can guess what brought you here, Albus,” Sirius stated. “If Harry was somehow entered into the Tri-Wizard, you are going to be in a lot of trouble.”
“Obviously Harry did not enter himself. . . .” Dumbledore started, but Remus cut him off.
“And don’t think he asked anyone to enter him,” he warned.
“I can’t see him doing so,” Dumbledore agreed, “but others will find it less unlikely.”
“Ah, Albus,” Fritton stated, coming in through the back door. “I take it you incompetents at Hogwarts allowed Harry’s name to be entered into that silly tournament of yours?”
Dumbledore winced at that, but he could hardly deny the gist of the accusation.
“Was he entered as the Hogwarts’ champion, or as St. Trinian’s?”
“Neither; his school was not specified.”
“Nonsense,” Fritton retorted with a sniff. “Miss Black, Mister Black, Mister Lupin, and I will be at Hogwarts at nine tomorrow morning.” Sirius made a face at that; he had hoped to sleep in. “Now, I must get back.”
She took her leave, leaving Dumbledore standing there, rather nonplused, with all the male staff staring at him with at least some dislike. They all liked Harry to some degree, and were not happy with this turn of events. The bursar was also unhappy because he was the only person to bet that Harry would not be entered, deeming the 100-1 odds offered worth the plunge. None of the student bookies would take bets that Harry would be entered.
There was a reason why nearly all of them with even a touch of magic took divination.
The St. Trinian contingent, including Harry, arrived at the gates of Hogwarts via portkey at 8:55. Most of the Hogwarts staff had 9:00 classes, so they were met by Hagrid. He took them to the Great Hall, where Fritton, Miss Black, Remus, and Harry gathered around the Goblet for the next ninety minutes. Sirius stayed out of their way after he sent Hagrid off to notify Dumbledore they were finished, but no one immediately returned. Twenty minutes later, shrugging, Remus led the group to the staff table and ordered tea and biscuits for the group from an elf; they then sat down to wait.
Finally, a little after 11:00, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Moody, and Snape came into the Hall, along with Ludo Bagman. “Get out from behind that table, Potter! You arrogant little pissant, if you were still a student here I’d have you in detention for a month!”
“If I were still a student here, Snivellus, I would of course not be sitting here,” Harry stated.
“Manners, Mister Potter,” Fritton reproved gently. “First of all, it should have been Mister Snivellus, or, as they so pretentiously prefer, Professor Snivellus. Just because he is so uncouth to a guest doesn’t mean you should be.”
“Yes, Miss Fritton.”
“So, will Harry be staying today or moving back some other time this week?” Dumbledore inquired.
The entire St. Trinian group glared. “Why would I come back to this shit ho. . . .” Harry started, but seeing the look in Fritton’s eye, amended, “I mean this latrine of a school?”
Fritton nodded in satisfaction. “Yes, we can hardly allow Harry to damage his education by attending classes here. Before we discuss his possible participation in this farce of yours, we should all hear what Miss Black has determined.”
Cygnia Black’s glare kept the opposition group quiet, and then she gathered her thoughts. “First of all, Dumbledore, you were wrong. Mister Potter’s name was entered under St. Trinian’s name – that was merely written in a fairly standard invisible ink. Judging from the writing style, the slip of parchment was cut from what would appear to have been a piece of Mister Potter’s homework from his first year. Mister Potter does have a magical link to the Goblet, but not a terribly strong one. If he were the actual age you were supposed to allow approach the Cup, he could easily shrug off the magical penalty. Until he actually competes in the first task, he would absorb at most a tenth of the damage extracted by the Cup. Whoever wrote St. Trinian’s and then submitted the slip of parchment would have to pay the rest of the penalty. At his age, however, his core might be slightly damaged, so we will have to study that a bit more before deciding if he will refuse to compete.”
“But we’ve already announced it!” Bagman bleated.
Fritton frowned at that, and decided she would have to visit The Prophet. “That you were precipitous in your announcement, as well as incompetent in allowing this to happen in the first place, is hardly a matter for our concern,” was all she said to him, however. She looked at Dumbledore. “On the off chance we decide that Mister Potter will compete, I shall of course attend as an equal to you and the others. If Harry does compete, he will be here on those dates, and on those dates only. We are not interested in joining in the self-congratulations of your three establishments.” She turned her attention to Snape. “If there is any interference with Mister Potter from the members of any of the three schools, student or staff, rest assured, you will not enjoy the consequences.” She turned back to Dumbledore. “We shall stay until the beginning of luncheon, where we shall make a statement. We will not be staying beyond that. Please forward all the information on the tournament that you and the other heads have. Any surprises afterwards will also have severe consequences.” As some students were already making their way in the Hall for an early lunch, Dumbledore could hardly make a scene. Since a few of those students had turned around once they had spotted Harry, students who were not still in class would be making their way to the Great Hall fairly quickly.
Shortly before noon, with some eighty percent of the Hogwarts students and all the visitors and staff present, Dumbledore stood and stated, “As we suspected, upon further investigation we found that Mister Potter did not enter himself, and likely did not ask to be entered. . . .” He stopped at a signal from Fritton, who in turn motioned to Harry.
Harry stood and swore an oath on his magic that he had not entered his name into the tournament and had not asked anyone to enter his name. A simple set of sparks showed he still had his magic.
Fritton then spoke up, “We will be deciding over the next few days if the penalty Mister Potter would have to pay for not competing is too high. Certainly, whoever entered his name would have to pay at least four-fifths of any such penalty, and possibly much more.” She had remembered that when dealing with the magically raised she had to use fractions, as few knew what a percentage was. “In any case, should Mister Potter be forced to compete, he will only be here for the actual events. Thank you.”
With that, the St. Trinian’s left the Great Hall. Once outside, Draco Malfoy, who had been lurking at the doorway, called out, “How’s the new school, Miss Potter?”
“Since unlike you I like girls, it’s great,” Harry retorted at the same volume but not breaking pace. “It’s great not being held back by the in-bred.” And with that, they were gone.
Fritton had contacted several St. Trinian alumnae who worked at various magical media organizations before going to Hogwarts, saying that a statement would be issued that afternoon. When The Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless broke the story of Harry’s participation that afternoon, they had that disclaimer in place. The Wireless had the new version of events out by late that afternoon, while The Prophet had the story in the next morning’s edition. Voldemort, being kept by Winky the house elf, was not pleased that Potter might slip out of the tournament. He would settle for someone else for his ritual, but really would prefer not to.
Miss Fritton had sent Harry off to class after lunch, and met with Cygnia, Remus, and Sirius later that afternoon. “How bad would it actually be if Harry did not participate?”
“Well, he certainly would not lose his magic,” Cygnia responded. “Since he would currently take a ten-to-twenty-percent hit off his current magic, it may or may not damage his core. If it did not, he would be hurt, and he would certainly be weakened for at least six to eight weeks but in theory it might just be that temporary. However, if that hit cost him part of his actual core?” She shrugged. “It could make him incapable of actively using his magic for several months. It could take him years to recover. Harry is an immensely powerful young man. Still, when he did recover, he could be barely above average for his age, and it is possible that his core would not only not grow into his current potential, but not even twenty percent less. It could even be stopped at what he had left, which would, for an adult wizard, be slightly below normal. Considering his reputation, he will always be under magical threats. Unless he totally disappeared from magical Britain and was totally able to establish a new life under a new name elsewhere, I wouldn’t give him much of a chance at even surviving much past leaving school if that happened.”
The other three sat quietly for a moment. Finally, Sirius asked, “Any odds?”
His great aunt/cousin (they were, after all, interbred Blacks) sighed. “I would have to say there is at least an eighty percent chance he would lose part of his current core and it would then stop growing. There is at least a ten percent chance that he would never be able to actively use his magic again. I doubt there is more than a three percent chance of him making a total recovery and going on to anything like his current potential.”
“How bad is the tournament?” Remus asked after a few moments of silence.
“Bad, but not impossible,” Fritton answered. “Can you two manage to teach Harry to use a summoning charm? And I mean to the point where he can summon anything he knows the location of if it’s within, say, a mile or so?”
The two looked at each other. “Yes,” Remus finally stated.
“How about the bubblehead charm by next January?”
“How long would he have to keep it going?” Sirius asked.
“Up to an hour.”
Remus winced. “That would be harder. Harry has the power potential to do just about any charm there is once, but sustaining it with his current active, as opposed to potential, core would be the problem.”
Fritton stood and very obviously set a sheet of paper over a stack of parchment. “I am going to talk with Harry. You may leave and talk somewhere else, if you wish.”
The three took the hint, and as soon as Fritton stepped out of her office, the trio not only stayed but was looking through the stack of parchment – the rules of the Tri-Wizard and the set-up of the three tasks.
“Harry can certainly fly, but can he outfly a dragon? Even one shackled near her nest?” Sirius wondered.
“Possibly,” Cygnia retorted, “but it would be better if he didn’t try to get the egg that way. Still, flying as a delivery system might work. Let’s see what potions Melinda can of that think might work.”
“And Harry will need cover for what we’re doing,” Remus pointed out.
“Of course,” Cygnia snapped. “I am not Sirius and so need not be reminded!”
Sirius flushed but said nothing.
*
Harry had reluctantly gone back to Hogwarts, under his cousin’s supervision, for the ceremonial ‘weighing of the wands.’ Camilla Fritton had no problem staring down Rita Skeeter, and steered Harry into interviews with slightly less unscrupulous reporters.
Unfortunately, however, time progressed and all too quickly for Harry’s preferences, it was soon the morning of the first task. Right after breakfast, the St. Trinian’s crew appeared in a field just slightly off center of the path between Hogwarts itself and the area where the first task would be held. Magical tents were quickly erected, and by lunch the St. Trinian bookies were doing a booming trade suckering in Hogwarts students to bet against the various champions’ survival. Slytherins were especially eager to bet against Harry’s survival, but there were takers from all the other Houses. Few bets were made by any of the students against the survival of any of the other champions, despite having that option.
Many of the non-bookies were seen flying about their temporary compound (they would be leaving the following morning), and all the St. Trinian students were seen wearing matching knapsacks with numbers on them. While many noticed these things, none took note of the fact that while the St. Trinian girls were again armed with hockey or lacrosse sticks when they made their way to the reviewing stands that evening, none had the knapsacks, although every fourth girl had a satchel filled with snacks.
As the task was explained to the champions inside a tent, another official explained it to the crowd outside. In the tent, Harry noted that only Cedric was unaware of the fact they would be going up against dragons. Unfortunately for Cedric, he drew the Chinese fireball, perhaps the second nastiest of the four possibilities. Harry drew the Welsh Green.
When it was Harry turn, he marched out into the arena and first summoned a broomstick from the encampment. (Of course, all the broomsticks except for a few Firebolts had been well-secured inside the tents.) Harry made a show of flying around, keeping his distance from the wary dragon, for about three minutes, and then he flew back to the part of the area closest to the encampment and summoned ‘knapsack thirty-seven.’ Again, all the knapsacks but this one had been well-stowed, but examining any of the seventy-five knapsacks would show different potions and other compounds which could have been useful for other possible tasks. Whatever doubts anyone might have, no one could prove Harry had been prepared specifically for dragons.
The knapsack flew into the area. Harry caught it and, just as the St. Trinian girls let out a shout which slightly attracted the dragon’s attention, took out two jars and shot off at full speed at the dragon. The dragon rose to breath fire at Harry, but the flames hit the first jar, which Harry had tossed down at the dragon’s mouth. The potion burst, and resulted in snuffing out the dragon’s flame and giving it a coughing fit. Harry swept down and, dropping the second jar so it broke harmlessly on the ground (he had it in case the first didn’t induce a strong enough coughing fit), picked up the golden egg and flew off before the dragon could fully recover. It total, it had taken Harry a little over seven minutes.
While Karkaroff complained that bringing in outside items was a form of cheating, the other two Heads had to agree with Fritton, who pointed out that summoning items was in fact permitted, and, knowing her reputation, no matter what anyone might suspect, they knew those other 74 knapsacks would merely show that Harry had prepared for many eventualities, not just the dragons. Fritton and Dumbledore each scored Harry a 10, Maxime an 8, and Karkaroff a 5, giving him 33 out of 40 points. Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour also managed to secure their eggs and leave the arena. However, Viktor’s strategy caused several of the eggs to be destroyed and took nearly twelve minutes, so while Karkaroff had scored him an 8, the other three each scored him 5, for a total of 23. Fleur took over 15 minutes to distract her dragon to the point she could get her egg, and she had been slightly flamed as she escaped with it. Maxime scored her a 9, Fritton and Dumbledore each 8, and Karkaroff a 4, for a total of 29.
Cedric managed to grab his egg in about the same time as Fleur, but he was flamed to the point where he did not fully escape the arena with his egg. Had the dragon handlers not intervened, Cedric would have at least lost body parts, if not his life. Dumbledore scored him a 7, Maxime and Fritton each a 6, and Karkaroff a 3, for a total of 22.
Happy with their winnings and Harry’s performance, the St. Trinian girls sang as they escorted their champion back to their tents, so they could have an all-night party before leaving.
Camilla Fritton stretched early the next morning and sat up in bed. She smirked at the exhausted Sirius, and got up and made her way into the bathroom in her suite. Leaving the snoring Sirius in the bedroom, Camilla stepped out into the parlor of the tent and looked around. Seeing it empty, she slipped on her robe and stepped out of the tent into the chill air. Whatever partying had gone on had obviously gone on in the tents, as only Remus, asleep on a chair in the center of the circle of tents, was visible.
Nodding, Camilla turned towards the door of the other bedroom in this tent, and frowned when she saw the door was ajar. At school, Harry only had to keep his doors open when he had ‘guests’ (students, usually Jane, or Jane and Hermione) visiting. Wondering if there was a replay of the World Cup going on, she pushed the door fully opened and, for a few seconds could only blink. Finally, she cleared her throat, and was greeted by two loud “eeks” and a very muffled one, and some rapid movements on the part of three of the four students. “Despite the current activities,” she stated with the mirth very obvious in her voice, “Miss Coral, Miss Granger, Miss Belknap, you are on the potion, correct?”
The only unembarrassed student was Candace Coral, who was not only the current chief of the Jock Tribe but head of the informal Sappho Society (which cut across tribal lines, and was for girls between the ages of 13-17 who were at least interested in some experimentation). “I don’t have any need for it,” Candy stated. “And while neither Jane nor Hermione have any current need, they are both on it.”
“Very good. Harry, remember I cannot condone such behavior at St. Trinian’s on school nights. On Friday and Saturday nights, we will have to work out a new system to allow you and your friends your privacy. Understood?”
“Yes, Miss,” Harry responded, somewhat shakily.
“Very good. Miss Belknap, Miss Coral, carry on.” She left, shutting the door behind her. Candy shrugged and with a smile went back to work at Hermione’s lap to finish her initiation into the Society, while Jane went back to Harry’s lap for a similar reason. Harry shrugged, and pulled Hermione into a hug.
“Thank you again for taking us to St. Trinian’s,” Harry said, moving his left hand stroking Jane’s hair once he and Hermione were bare shoulder to shoulder.
With her left hand stroking Candy’s hair, mirroring Harry, Hermione turned her head and kissed him. “Thank you for being my best friend.” She moved to twist them into slightly facing each other (while not disturbing their lovers’ work) and his right hand to her breast, and they enjoyed the benefits of being best friends.
Leaving the teens to enjoy their morning and Sirius to sleep off his exertions, Camilla dressed and went up to the castle for a meeting with the other three school heads.
“And what is this meeting about?” Karkaroff almost snarled once they had all arrived in Dumbledore’s office.
“Two things. First, the second task. I signed off on the first task, but have not on the second, as is required,” Fritton pointed out.
“The students already have the clue,” Maxime said with a shrug.
“True, and while I will agree to the general outline of the second task, I will not agree to the taking of hostages. No matter what the safeguards, no one should be at risk other than the champions.”
“I disagree,” Karkaroff stated firmly.
“In that case, I would only agree if we are the hostages,” Fritton shot back. “At least we would know all the risks.”
That gave the other three pause. On the one hand, Krum would likely be favored in this event. On the other hand, Karkaroff would never agree to risk himself for any reason. Maxime knew that she would be difficult to rescue due to her size, and the Delacour girl, being part-Veela, would be at a disadvantage in the Lake. Dumbledore didn’t really trust anyone other than himself, and even then only using the Elder Wand, to put the hostages into the required trances.
“What would you suggest, then?”
Fritton shrugged. “Use some symbol common to each school so that they are competing in rescuing something for school pride. I know Hogwarts has a House Cup, and we have the Founder’s Trophy.” This was actually as much of a joke as a prize at St. Trinian’s. Every year, it started off in the possession of the Piranha Tribe, who tried to guard it against all takers, or to recapture it if it was lost. Rather than risk themselves, Karkaroff and Maxime agreed to put up school trophies as well.
“And what was the other matter?” Dumbledore asked.
“The Yule Ball. May only couples attend? May only members of the four schools attend? Some of my girls may wish to come but either are not seeing anyone or of course may be seeing magicals outside of the four schools.”
“Any member your school fourteen or over may attend,” Dumbledore said. “If they have a magical date, they may bring him as well.”
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