Chapter Text
A sense of doom measured each step. Foreboding haunted the walls. She had been able to tell by the look in Hermione’s eyes alone. Obvious relief was tainted by an overflow of disappointment brought by concern. A steep sense of resignation, clearly knowing what she had signed up for, accepting it nonetheless, and planning something. Lips had drawn thin, very clearly displeased as her brows furrowed inwards.
Sweat beaded over the back of her neck when Hermione motioned for her to follow once the judging concluded. Allowing herself to be dragged along until the crowds thinned and into an empty classroom felt somewhat second nature.
“Hazel,” Hermione’s voice was clipped as she pulled out a thick journal, weathered by use. Blots of ink still marred the cover. “Professor Potter gave me this a while back, stating that perhaps it was time to pass on the torch. That it may help me with my own inevitable crucible. It’s full of… strategies. Observations. Theories she’d written down herself. Would you like to know what it’s about?”
Her mother had written a book? The journal was more than full. In fact, it appeared as though twice as many pages had found their way delicately patched into the bindings. The original pieces of sacrificial paper having not been adequate for her purposes. Reaching out to the treasure was instinctual, only for Hermione to whisk it away, suddenly avoiding eye contact.
“No,” Hermione’s voice came out, a bit too panicked. “Trust me when I say, some things you’re better off not seeing, just take my word for it.” She looked… way too red. Elegant scrawl on the front finally caught her attention. “How to Educate Your Idiot - Lily Potter”. Ah… yeah. She could see how that sort of knowledge could take a turn…. Were they calling her an idiot?!
Her thought was answered with a seemingly apologetic smile. “It’s filled with all the ways that your mother would… correct inappropriate behaviors of your father. When pranks would go too far, or when things were said that shouldn’t have been… I have learned… way more about their dynamic than I ever wanted to,” she squeaked, yet clinging to the journal as if it were still a treasure and not something tainted in debauchery. What sort of filth was in there? Why would her mother even share that?
Hermione, who was far too attentive to her, shook her head, reddening deeper. “It’s nothing explicit! It just… well, the insight it gave… Like one time, she hexed him for pranking a second year. Every so often, his shoes would shrink slightly, until they were too uncomfortable but couldn’t be removed… and then they would march him towards the poor girl until he apologized. I may not have to worry as much about you in that regard… even if I probably should…” Hazel could feel the smirk growing on her face.
“But well… You do have a tendency to rush into danger. Especially when it means saving someone else.”
Okay, that wasn’t entirely fair. Danger found her, not the other way around! Peaceful years were way better. They meant more family time. More time to spend with Hermione. “I don’t try to get into trouble… it just happens.”
The older bookworm frowned. “I know… I just worry. We prepare as best we can, but so much could go wrong. Sometimes, failings can be beyond our control. I… I can’t lose you, Hazel. I can’t. I would drag you back myself if I had to. You wouldn’t want to see me get hurt, right?”
Any possible protests died on her tongue, ears falling flat in shame as memories of a petrified Hermione flashed before her eyes. She could feel her face slump. “Never again,” she whispered. “I never want to see you hurt again. I know. Things go wrong. We can’t protect everyone… I just don’t like seeing others suffer senselessly. Not like - not like I did. But that’s why we’re a team. We have eachother to watch over the other’s back.”
A wistful smile flashed across her girlfriend’s face as she bobbed her head. “Yeah. It’s a part of you that I love dearly, but it terrifies me sometimes.”
Hazel grinned impishly. “That can be said for many of the better things in life.”
“Yes,” the response was a bit too deliberate. Slow. Calculating. “My point is… don’t grow overconfident on failsafes, okay? Plans fail routinely. Plan around the certainty of a plan failing. You could have not been in an illusion - another thing we need to practice recognizing - or you could have gotten hurt before the portkey triggered. And then maybe Fawkes may have been too slow. You have the tools to create more time to think. Use them.”
“Okay,” Hazel mumbled, properly chastised. “So… my mum kept a list of blackmail? Psychological warfare? Mental manipulations? Did she crack the secrets to all things Potter?”
The slip of laughter made things feel easier. “Manipulation? No, no. Such an unreliable tool. No, something more refined.” Now that was a smile that scared her. “One more thing before I allow you to make it up to me for shaving a few years off my life due to stress.”
Her head fell to the side as she hummed questioningly.
“I know that each school has designed its own tasks… but isn’t it a bit odd that they seem to have emulated the dangers that you’ve faced here? Dangers that the Dark Lord was present for? That feels… far too coincidental, right?”
Huh. That was… true, but surely it had to be just that, a coincidence, didn’t it? The first task was a matter of happenstance, planned out by Beauxbatons. What reason would they have had to use a strange mixture of boggart-infused Acromantula? If anything, the familiarity had only helped her. How could a benefit leave room for conspiracy? And a sea serpent only made sense for Hogwarts, given how snakes were used to symbolize one of their founders. But then… someone had entered her name. But to manipulate every task rather than just one?
“Wouldn’t that be risky for them? To tip their hand so early?”
Hermione shook her head. “No, rather, it fits their patterns perfectly. They’re arrogant. Taunting us with it. They want us to know it’s them. To make us afraid when there’s nothing we can do about it. They’re celebrating. Playing as if they’ve already won. It only makes sense for the pattern to continue, doesn’t it? Something from his own history? Or perhaps something that you’ve encountered while facing him, but in a way meant to blindside you? Or rather, to isolate you?”
It made a chilling amount of sense. They’d have to discuss it with her mother. And Sirius. And Tonks… Okay, Dumbledore could be told, too, even if he did smell too much like lemons to her sensitive nose.
“You said something about apologizing for your worries?”
A gleam lit up in the older girl’s eye. “Reparations are important. You, Miss Potter, owe me tail time. A whole night of cuddling them.” Well, at least she had simple desires.
Barty Crouch Jr. bit back a curse as he stalked his way toward his, or rather Moody’s, office. Speaking of the stubborn, paranoid ingrate, it would soon be time for another dose as he almost felt as if he could begin twitching within the hidden pocket. Maintaining the ruse was a hassle, but a necessary one.
Still, how he wished he could just end the little problem before she grew stronger. Already, she was far beyond the limited capabilities that Pettigrew had assured their master of. Perhaps it hadn’t been mere luck that had brought the rat to his untimely end. She seemed to have an intuitive understanding of magic far surpassing many who had been unfortunate enough to fall on the other end of his wand. Add in a little luck and a knack for worming her way out of even the deadliest of situations.
Capturing her would be difficult. Stunning her even harder. Designing the circumstances would need more than the liberal amounts of imperius that had been used to… nudge tasks in certain directions.
No, taking her in the middle of a task would no longer be possible. It would draw far too much attention.
However… immediately after the final task? When everyone else would be distracted, congratulating the winner? Plenty of ripe opportunities, just begging to be picked. He could fabricate a need to take her elsewhere for healing. Once beyond the wardlines? A quick portkey and his master would have his prize.
And what better way to return to power than by eliminating your enemy’s greatest symbol of hope? Genius.
Too bad he couldn’t supplement things by sabotaging the girl’s coursework. It would be too suspicious. People would ask too many questions. Maybe that girl who always clung to her side like a duckling could be a useful chip for bartering if things were to go poorly? Actually, he could almost hear their voices echoing down the hall. Hmm. Well, he did have a part to play… and finding his target seemingly tied up between her own tails and the arms of Gryffindor’s brightest?
“CONSTANT VIGILANCE. To allow yourself to be so carelessly bound. Makes an attack against both of you far easier than you should allow.”
Could he really be blamed for enjoying the part he had to play? It was far better than his previous… house arrest.
–
Hazel frowned, scrunching her nose as the grizzled man left. They really should have found somewhere more private, but something felt off.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know… but… something about Professor Moody smelled wrong. Almost familiar.”