Luna Lovegood hummed and skipped. She skipped and hummed. She skummed and hipped! She hupped and skimmed! Truly, life was good for Luna Lovegood.
Luna giggled to herself as well as she skipped and hummed (and hummed and skipped!) down the corridors of Hogwarts Castle, making her way to the quarters she shared with Atlas. She was ever-so thankful that she decided to approach him for help on the first night of school. It had quite literally changed everything for her.
Now, she had a place to sleep where she felt safe, a strong supervillain coven leader who wanted to keep her safe, and even the ability to keep herself safe as well! She slept in a warm bed with a silly Professor who took care of her. The Nargles avoided her and the Castle's Wrackspurt infestation seemed to be on the decline.
All because she'd become Professor Gamer's first Henchwoman! Professor Septima didn't count as a Henchwoman. She was more like the coven's mad scientist character! Yes, Luna proudly held the position of Head Hench in Atlas' villainous coven of villains.
Dark Lord? Light Lord? Gray Lord? Bah! Phooey, Luna said! Atlas was the Wizarding World's first Supervillain: Professor Gamer! And with his Henchwoman Vtuber at his side, nothing would stand in their way! Soon, their coven would take over the Wizarding World, snatching it right out from beneath the nose of the Ministry Cabal! Soon…
They were even already recruiting more members! Their numbers would swell and the whole world would come to fear them! A mad scientist to create their evil inventions and do all that boring magic math stuff. A Lovegood-seer as Head Hench. And now, a French Veela to help twist the masses to their side!
If Luna's eyes didn't lie to her (they never did), they'd soon be inducting the Girl-Who-Lived and the Smartest Witch of Her Generation into the coven too. They could join as additional Henchwomen under Luna, of course. More Hench sisters were always welcome!
The coven would grow and the world would know! Know that Professor Gamer walked among them!
They really needed a name for the whole coven though… All the coolest villain organizations had names! The League of Witches (and One Wizard)? The Suicide Coven? Atlas' Angels?
Eh, she'd run some names by Atlas later. Professor Gamer should have the final say. He was the Supervillain after all. They were all under Atlas. Mmmm… Under Atlas~ Thinking about it, he might be feeling ~pent-up~ after all that Allure earlier. Maybe she should greet him on her knees like a good Henchwoman~…
Luna's decision was already made before she even finished thinking about it. She nodded firmly. Yes, a Henchwoman's job was to take care of all the dirty parts of supervillain work. Like whacking dudes! And relieving stress! Atlas hadn't asked her to whack anyone yet so that just left making him blow the biggest, fattest, thickest loads in Luna's syrupy-sweet cunny and all over her face!
Her genius… Sometimes, it terrified her. She hurried the rest of the way to the room she was coming to call a second home. Humming and skipping (and skipping and humming!) could wait. There was stress to be relieved!
As she darted into Atlas' quarters, Luna's plan ran facefirst into an unexpected obstacle, "Oh… Hello, Miss Bella! I didn't know Atlas' mommy was a kitty-cat."
The black cat in question looked at Luna in frozen shock. It was like Luna's blatant disregard for subtlety turned her brain off and she was struggling to get it working again. A process that wasn't helped as Luna almost instantly began to strip herself of her robes. She wouldn't let something as silly as a parental visit interrupt her happy Atlas time.
Luna was down to her little lacy panties by the time the cat managed to react. She turned from a gaunt and haunted feline into a gaunt and haunted Human woman, her body morphing in an instant. Despite her tortured and disheveled features, the woman's beauty was still plainly visible.
Wild, curly, black hair fell around her shoulders, framing a dirty aristocratic face. High, perfectly-sculpted cheekbones, thin cheeks, and a sharp, defined jawline spoke of good genetics and breeding. Her magic must have been hard at work maintaining her curvy figure because despite how skinny the rest of her was, she had handful-sized breasts and wide hips beneath her tattered prison robes.
Her most striking feature was the vibrant violet eyes that were shared with her Animagus form. They burned with an inner strength that showed even through the weight of all she'd been through in her tragic life. This was a woman who'd been tortured, controlled, and forced to do things she would've never done, and yet, she persisted. She hadn't given up and now that there was a small spark of hope in her life, she was seizing it with both hands.
"Wait! Please! D-Don't turn me in! I-I never meant to hurt anyone! I wasn't in control of myself! T-Those damned brothers did everything! I… I just want to see my son again…" Bellatrix Black (she cursed the name Lestrange) frantically tried to convince the girl who had caught her before coming to an abrupt halt as she realized what Luna was doing.
"W-Why are you naked?"
Luna cocked her head innocently as if the answer was obvious, "Why, to suck your son dry and hopefully make him fill me with his cream, of course. I would ask if you mind but honestly, I don't care. Atlas will be stressed after the evening he's had and it's my job to make sure he has an outlet to that stress."
"So you won't turn me in…? O-Or, tell Atlas about me hiding here?" Bellatrix asked hesitantly, internally goggling at the cojones on this little Witch.
Luna's eyes narrowed in consideration. Luna wouldn't worry Atlas with this. Not yet. Not until she could guarantee the right outcome. He'd been good to her. He deserved a happy reunion with his mother, even if she was seen by most as a murderous lunatic. Yes, Luna would deal with this herself. It was a Henchwoman's job to take care of intruders in their secret, evil lair anyway.
"Hmm… No, I don't think I will. At least, not yet. You are intruding though. You've been a very naughty mommy. And you'll need proper bathing before you re-introduce yourself to Atlas. But that just means I get to get on Atlas' mommy's good side!" Luna finished cheerfully, uncaring of her mostly nude state.
Bellatrix paused, biting her lip almost to the point of drawing blood. This… this she could work with. Her son wasn't as hopeless as she'd so irrationally feared. Of course, he wasn't! He had her genes, pure Black genes! Even if his father was a bit of a mangy mutt, he was still a Black.
She remembered… she remembered how he had whispered reassurances that they would see Atlas again through the bars of their cells… They weren't together together but he made it plainly clear that he cared about her and the miracle they'd made together. The reminders of Atlas were the only thing that kept her somewhat sane under that deplorable contract.
After everything that had happened, after everything that had been torn away from her by that controlling scheme of a marriage contract, Bellatrix only wanted one thing. She wanted her perfectly pure Black baby boy back. She wanted to see Atlas succeed where she failed. She wanted him to rebuild the House of Black and take over this damned Wizarding World! Her Atlas would show the world what true power was!
Not in despicable, domineering old-magic contracts. Not in pansy Lightness. Not in self-destructive Darkness. No, true power was in perseverance, determination, and strength of will. Just as Bellatrix had survived everything her parents and those damned brothers had thrown at her. Her baby boy would do the same. No, he would do better. Because now he had her. And she had him. Her Pure baby boy~… hehehehehhe~!
"Wow! Killer evil giggle, momma Atlas!" Luna exclaimed, knocking Bella out of her spiraling train of thought and making her remember the real world existed. "Can you train me to be a better Head Henchwoman for your son?"
"I wasn't giggling!" Bella snapped. "And yes! Anything for my baby boy! What's a Hedgewoman?!"
"Henchwoman, Miss Bella, not Hedgewoman," Luna giggled. "I'm Atlas' most trusted servant! I deal with things that are beneath the notice of an amazing Supervillain like him! Like whacking people! Or relieving his stress!"
Luna's explanation brought unfortunate memories of Bella's time under the contract's control back to the fore. She shivered, "Yes… I… may have some experience in that first field. Thank Maeve and Morgana the Dark Lord was gay…"
All the lives she'd been forced to take flashed before Bella's eyes. Every ounce of pain she'd caused reflected back onto her. She found herself frozen inside her own mind again, unable to do anything but watch as her body danced to the strings of cruel masters. But before she could spiral into trauma and hopelessness, Bella felt a slim body press itself against her, pulling her focus back to the real world.
Luna cooed, hugging her mother-in-law-in-all-but-name, "It's okay, Miss Bella. That wasn't you. You weren't in control. You're safe now. They're dead, the contract is broken, and you'll never be subjected to a violation like that again."
Bella's hyperventilating slowly slowed to deep breaths thanks to the little waif of a Witch holding her. For the first time in much more than a decade, Bella felt tears well up in her eyes. They fell silently, her catharsis going unacknowledged and yet everything she needed at the same time.
Eventually, Bella changed the subject with barely a quiver in her voice, "So… my son's a Dark Lord?"
Luna's reply was light and airy, driving away the rest of Bella's lingering demons for a moment as she learned more about the last important thing in her life, "Don't be silly, Miss Bella! Atlas isn't a Dark Lord! He's a Supervillain! Dark Lords are so cliche. All that fear and terror can't be very productive. Atlas is riding a new wave and taking all of us along with him!"
"I'm… not sure I understand…"
"That's okay! Atlas doesn't understand either! That's why it's our job as Henchwomen to make him into the Supervillain he deserves to be!" Luna smiled gaily. "It's all about Presentation™!"
"I… see…" Bella did not see.
"Oh, pooh, I'm making a mess of this. Here, I'll explain as we get you cleaned up," Luna said, pulling Bella along behind her to the suite's attached bathroom but not before stopping to grab a stack of strangely Muggle-looking magazines. "Quite frankly, Dark Lords have terrible PR-…"
Bella was quickly pulled into Luna's flow, listening with confused interest as Luna rambled about 'supers' and 'Rogue's galleries' and 'Presentation™'. She was introduced to the colorful nonfiction world of Muggle comics in the bath, flipping through the vibrant pages as Luna happily scrubbed her clean.
It was… nice. No, it was everything Bella hadn't even known she was missing. A dutiful daughter-in-law aiding her and disregarding the fearsome reputation she'd developed under contract. Luna didn't seem to care about that one whit. She simply rambled on and on about powers and plots and damsels-in-distress and most importantly, Atlas.
Bella listened, absorbing and internalizing every ounce of information. She would never be the version of herself from before the contract. That Bella was long dead, killed by everything she'd been forced to do in the service of those damned brothers and their daft Dark Lord.
But another version of Bella was still here, still alive through years and years of uncontrollable suffering — both her own and what she'd been forced to inflict. That almost-hollow shell of Bella soaked up Luna's cheerful care like a sponge, latching onto every tidbit she could pick up about the only thing that mattered.
Her baby boy had to grow up all by himself and Bella knew basically nothing about him. In that sense, Luna was a gold mine. And Bella was beginning to think she was the perfect fit for her son's 'Head Henchwoman'. Perhaps even better than his broken mother could ever be…
Luna thought Atlas was just as amazing as Bella knew he had to be. She was willing to give everything she had to Atlas and his coven. As it should be, Bella's mind correctly asserted. Her baby boy should never be alone again.
Bellatrix Black, a once subjugated woman, was slowly starting to heal, aided by Luna's infectious spirit and firsthand knowledge of the last light of her life. As she learned more about Atlas — his achievements, his temperament, and his relationships —, not-quite-motherly pride sprouted in her chest. It was bittersweet, tainted by decades of unavoidable absence, but it was enough. Enough to partially soothe the deep-seated scars on her heart. Enough to act as a foundation for this new Bella. Enough to stoke the flames of obsession that had kept her even partially whole while under the contract's control…
IIIII
"-And if you add this little twist," Dumbledore said, lecturing as he worked. "The wards will naturally meld together into a sturdier form."
I nodded, making sure to take note of Dumbledore's almost effortless wand movement, "I see. Strangely enough, ward crafting like this reminds me of weaving with string. Especially with how all of your wards interlock to form something bigger than they would be individually."
"An apt comparison," Dumbledore smiled genially at me. "It takes quite the sensitive Wizard or Witch to sense wards like that."
"Is that true?" I asked, somewhat surprised. "I thought all Magicals could get a feel for magic like that…"
"Not as such," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Most are content to remain willfully ignorant of the true workings of their gifts."
"What a shame."
Dumbledore chuckled in agreement, "Quite. Now, it is getting late and I don't believe there is anything more we can do here. Thank you for indulging an old teacher like me, Atlas. I shan't take any more of your time."
"Please, Albus, you haven't wasted a single second of my time," I protested. "Learning is not just a passion of mine, but a way of life. The Grind is eternal."
"The Grind?" My strange phrase was greeted with a raised eyebrow from Dumbledore.
"Just another word for hard work," I answered.
"Hmm, what an interesting turn of phrase. I may find myself using it now and again. Say, does it apply to paperwork and letters as well as learning?" Dumbledore asked.
I shrugged, "I don't see why it wouldn't. The Grind is more of a mindset than anything else. A determination to get something done or to just see progress."
"Wonderful," Dumbledore clapped his hands together lightly. "Well, if you need anything more from me tonight, I shall be in my office, 'Grinding' away, as you say."
I walked to the door of the Great Hall with him before we went our separate ways. As he left, I took off my glasses to clean them with a quick spell. Today had been a long day. Fulfilling but very busy. Only after Dumbledore had turned the nearest corner did I allow myself to check the System notifications that had been stacking up since after the evening's feast.
< +5 to Defense, +2 to Magic Theory, +2 to Charms, +15 to Wards >
< Defense 23+5=28/100, Magic Theory 60+2=62, Charms 49+2=51/100, Wards 15+15=30/100 >
If I ever doubted it, this evening would have reinforced Dumbledore's reputation in my mind. When it came to magic, he was like a force of nature in Human form. And the most impressive part about him wasn't his power. It was his skill and control, earned over a century of study and practice.
A single ward crafting session with him quite literally doubled my Wards Discipline. Then there was the increase to my Magic Theory, my highest Discipline. It was the first one since I finished the Wandless Magic Quest and I only had Dumbledore's unique and nuanced view on magic to thank for that progress.
After the evening's feast ended, Dumbledore asked me if I was willing to accompany him to help set up the wards around the Goblet of Fire. That was the artifact, the method of choosing champions, that I'd ignored for more important things when it was introduced. I said as much to Dumbledore and he simply chuckled, understanding that my attention had been stolen by Gabrielle and our Bond.
He introduced the artifact again and this time I made sure to pay attention. As far as magical artifacts went, the Goblet was actually a recent invention. It only dated back to 1792 when it played a key role in making that tournament the last Triwizard Tournament until this one.
Half of the reason the Triwizard Tournament was originally canceled was because of the tournament's notorious death toll. The other half was because of the first use of the Goblet. The Goblet's ability to bind itself to a person's magic and force them to compete was the final straw in the life of the Triwizard Tournament.
Before the Goblet, champions simply signed contracts with plentiful escape clauses that allowed them to quit the tournament if they were unable or unwilling to compete. The Goblet had no such safety net. When I asked why they were even using the Goblet if it was such an ill-thought-out artifact, Dumbledore answered that he didn't have a choice in the matter. The Ministry of Magic insisted that the Goblet be used to select the champions. Something about how 'ironic' and 'symbolic' it would be to restart the tournament with the artifact that ended it.
As usual, I thought the Ministry was a circus run by daft morons. Thankfully, Dumbledore seemed to share my opinion. He was dead set on doing all that he could to prevent the worst from happening due to the Goblet's inclusion. As such, he was personally casting the wards that would limit who could enter as champion, hopefully creating the safety net that the Goblet lacked.
Seeing Dumbledore putting in the work, the other school Heads and some of the Professors also joined briefly. None of them went to the same extent as Dumbledore though. They would cast a few spells before retiring for the night. By comparison, Dumbledore spent nearly three hours casting a complex Age Line and other precautions. He was even explaining them to me and I only grasped some of the ward effects he described.
The only other person who stayed the entire time in the Great Hall with us was Professor Moody. He kept his distance though, constantly scanning the surroundings and Dumbledore's casting with a fixed expression and that creepy magical eye of his. He left slightly before we did, not sticking around for our unrelated conversation. According to Dumbledore, Moody's catchphrase was "Constant Vigilance!"
I didn't disagree with that catchphrase, per se. It seemed like good advice. But something about Professor Moody sent shivers down my spine. Maybe it was the way his magical eye seemed to be constantly looking at and through me at the same time… He was a retired auror, though, so a little paranoia was easy enough to accept.
I made my way back to my quarters, still giddy from the amount of progress I'd made in the Grind tonight. And it was only like 10 o'clock. There was still plenty of time left in the night to Grind. Even if I did feel slightly drained mentally from Gabrielle and the ward crafting, I wouldn't let that stop my Grind. Maybe a short break before we got started though, yeah?
"I'm back," I announced as I walked into the room I was now sharing with Luna and sometimes Septima. "Hey, Shadow, what happened to your little friend?"
"Oh!" A little startled noise from the attached bathroom told me Luna was already there. "Atlas! Oh, pooh, what time is it? Wait right there! I'll be right out!"
I did as Luna asked, making myself comfortable by petting my familiar, "You know you don't have to greet me at the door, right? It's nice but your whole life doesn't have to revolve around me, Luna."
Luna came skipping out of the bathroom naked as the day she was born aside from the tiniest, laciest pair of panties I'd ever seen and a bright smile on her face, "Of course it does and of course I do, Atlas! What kind of Henchwoman would I be if I didn't even greet you at the door with options like 'Dinner, a bath, or me'?"
"What kind of Henchwoman, indeed…" I said, amused and enjoying the view Luna was eagerly presenting me with.
She came to a stop in front of me and fell to her knees, still smiling serenely up at me as she 'assumed the position', "Now… You're late, Master! I know you've had a busy day. Would you like me to relieve your stress with my sticky, slippery, sloppy, suction, special surprise? That way you can do all of your evil supervillain plans stress-free!"
"Good alliteration, Luna," I absently praised, distracted by our new feline guest coming out of the bathroom behind Luna. "Did you bathe the new cat?"
Luna nodded, "Bella. Her name is Bella."
"I see. Well, nice to meet you, Bella. Welcome to the family," The poor cat practically teared up at my words.
"Oh! She's so happy and pretty and clean! Can't you see, Master?" Luna held the cat up in front of her, ignoring the way it squirmed slightly before going limp as if accepting its fate.
"I can. Good job, Luna," I praised Luna again, trying and failing to not get distracted by the way she cradled the black feline to her perky breasts. "You, uh, said something about a special, stress-relieving surprise…?"
"I did!" Luna perked up like her breasts, dropping the cat and letting it scamper to the side as she knee-walked closer until her face was right in front of my clothed bulge and she was looking up at me with eager eyes.
"Would you like me to… take care of you, Master~?" She asked as innocently as if she was asking if I wanted a cuppa tea.
I tried to ignore the way her new title for me sent shivers of almost egotistical excitement down my spine, "Since… Since when did I become 'Master'?"
Luna's head tilted to the side slightly as if she was confused by something that should have been obvious, "Since always, Master. I'm your Head Henchwoman. So of course you're my Master. We can't let the supervillain hierarchy get confusing.
"Professor Gamer is above Henchwoman Vtuber. Mad Scientist Vector is on a side hierarchy because everyone knows you don't mess with the person who builds you cool stuff. Gabrielle will be under you and sometimes me as our PR and Propaganda Manager when she inevitably joins our villainous coven!"
"I-…" Nope, now was not the time to be arguing with Luna's idea that we were Supervillains. Instead, I just silently accepted her as the lovable oddity she was and began taking off my clothes. My cock throbbed as I took my pants off, desperate to be freed and desperate for the relief Luna was offering.
Luna smiled up at me as if she knew she'd just scored some kind of point over me. That slightly smug expression shifted into eager, undisguised glee as my manhood sprang out in front of her face. She took me in both hands, opened wide, and wasted no time giving my cock the attention it needed at the moment.
My head naturally fell backward as Luna exercised her recently acquired sexual skills. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bella, our new cat, watching us with that fixation of a cat watching a bird through a window. It was a bit odd but I was used to a bit of oddness in my life. And with Luna lovingly worshipping my cock, it was easy to put Bella out of my mind as I usually did for Shadow.
Luna's lips laid featherlight kisses all around my head and her nimble tongue swiped away the beads of precum that quickly began to collect at my tip. I was more than happy to let her 'win' this round. It wasn't like I was actually going to become the Wizarding World's first Supervillain, right…?
IIIII
From over my shoulder, Septima pointed eagerly at a portion of the book we were reading together, "This is my favorite part! The way Caecilia the IV flips the previously accepted facts of Roman Astronomy on their head is inspiring! She completely changed the way the field of Arithmancy viewed planetary constants!"
I smirked internally. It was always so cute how passionate she got when it came to Arithmancy. Even if we were in public, she hardly bothered to maintain her stern Professor facade when it came to her interests. It was also great to see the reactions of the students who didn't know about this side of Septima. The way she practically glowed as she ranted and rambled excitedly had taken more than a few breaths away.
Septima and I had just finished our dinners and were wasting time with a good book on Historical Arithmancy until the real festivities of the evening started. Not that either of us cared much about the festivities in this case. But the champions of the Triwizard Tournament were about to be selected and as Hogwarts Professors, we were sort of obligated to at least be here.
It was Halloween at Hogwarts and the entire population of the Castle had gathered in the Great Hall. The air was alive with electric excitement. For the past three years, Halloween meant something interesting or terrible would happen that would inevitably involve the Girl-Who-Lived. This year, it meant the start of the Triwizard Tournament. Hopefully, it would also be the year to break Heather's streak.
Alas, that was not to be. The universe seemed deadset on Heather Potter living in interesting times. The selection began and the Goblet of Fire flared up, spitting out three names, each as the chosen champion for their school. Cedric Diggory for Hogwarts, Victor Krum for Durmstrang, and Fleur Delacour for Beauxbatons. For a moment, Fleur lit up from the cheers and excitement of being chosen. Then her gaze landed on me politely clapping and her visage was clouded by a scowl.
The three champions were ushered into a side room and Dumbledore turned back to address the Great Hall. He barely got a word out before the Goblet flared again unexpectedly and a fourth name was spat out.
"Heather… Potter…" Dumbledore read slowly, his typically calm face paling as he realized what the piece of paper represented.
Almost instantly, the Great Hall descended into scandal and outrage. Murmured accusations and insults were directed at Heather who looked both too stunned to move and seemingly resigned to her fate at the same time. The resignation on her face, as if some part of her had been expecting this, rubbed me the wrong way.
She was called up again and rose stiffly to comply. The vitriol from the rest of the students only increased as she woodenly went along with events. As if she had any other choice. And she shouldn't have to go through this alone. Thankfully, as Heather was being directed into the side room with the other champions, Dumbledore caught my eye.
An understanding passed between us in an instant. This was one of those situations where his hands were tied. Where he couldn't do anything because of the fallout both he and Heather would see. And as he'd said about Luna's bullying situation, this was why he had teachers like me. Teachers who could do something.
I rose from my spot at the staff table, my mind racing as I gave Septima a quick peck. She knew me well enough to know I would feel the need to help Heather. I caught up to the unexpected fourth champion before she made it into the side room.
There was a distant look in Heather's eyes as if she still hadn't processed what was happening, "A-Atlas? I… I didn't… do it. I didn't enter my name…"
"I believe you," I reassured her. "But they don't. Think you're up for giving 'em a piece of your mind?"
Heather's gaze darted out over the rest of the Great Hall, seemingly noticing the jeers and complaints of the rest of the students for the first time. Instead of quailing under the attention, it lit a fire in Heather's eyes. There she was. The Heather I knew wouldn't take that shit lying down. She could be a feisty firecracker when she was pressed like this.
She waved her hand and in a powerful display of Wandless (Accidental) Magic that I'm sure went over most of the students' heads, shot off the sound of a cannon blast that silenced the Great Hall.
"Right! I didn't enter my name in the bloody cup! I didn't ask anyone else to enter my name! And I don't want any part of this! I don't care about the fame or prize bullshite! I've got enough of that just from being myself! If I don't have to compete, I won't! So whatever you think of me, take it and shove it up yer bloody arses!" Heather's rant was answered with deafening silence.
She didn't wait for the crowd's reaction, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind her as she stomped into the side room, "C'mon, Atlas, screw these gits."
In the side room, we found the other three champions waiting around for something to happen. Fleur saw me and any happiness she might have felt instantly dissolved into hate. She didn't even bother to address me, instead favoring Heather with a question.
"What is it? Are we needed back in the Hall?" Fleur asked.
"Fuck if I know," Heather snorted rudely, dragging me to stand in a corner without acknowledging the other champions and never letting go of her vise-like grip on my hand.
Soon enough, we were joined by the rest of the tournament's organizers. The other school Heads immediately gravitated toward their champions.
Dumbledore looked to be on the verge of full-blown laughter, his eyes twinkling something fierce, "I was going to ask if Heather entered her name in the Goblet of Fire but I believe her wonderful little oration should have made her opinion on the subject clear."
"Next time, Ms. Potter," Professor McGonagall chastised, though it was obvious her heart wasn't in it from the barely smothered smile threatening her face. "Please spare us the profanity. I shall let it slide this time because of the… unique events of tonight. As an aside, I feel I don't tell you often enough how much of your mother I see in you."
"So we are just supposed to accept this girl's word?!" Madame Maxime demanded.
"No, no, of course not," Dumbledore allowed. "There will be an extensive investigation as to how this happened. But I happen to believe young Heather when she says she did not enter her name or desire to be in this tournament at all. She is not the type to lie about this sort of thing."
Madame Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff grumbled but ultimately accepted Dumbledore's words. He may not have been able to do anything directly for Heather, but his words still held immense weight.
"But she'll still be forced to compete?" I asked.
"She has to. The Goblet is a magically binding contract. If she doesn't, she'll lose her magic," Crouch, the main ministry representative for the tournament, spat arrogantly in a gravelly voice as if his word was final just because it came out of his mouth.
"You want the Girl-Who-Lived… to compete in life-threatening tasks… meant for NEWT-level students… while she's a Fourth Year?" I shot back, my tone flat and making it plainly clear I thought he was an idiot.
Crouch blustered but couldn't seem to find the words to refute me. The others in the room seemed to be having second thoughts about this whole situation because of me as well. Especially when I pointed out the difference between Heather and the other champions. And the potential political consequences of killing off the Girl-Who-Lived because of a damned tournament…
"Right, then I'm going to take it onto myself to be the only one here willing to try and keep Heather alive. As far as anyone else should be concerned, Heather Potter is my ward for the duration of the tournament," I stated, daring someone to challenge me on this.
"Yesssss…!" Heather hissed under her breath beside me.
Crouch seemed more than willing to oblige my challenge, "You can't! Professors can't help their school's champion. It's against tournament rules."
"Oh?" I tilted my head. "I guess it's a good thing Heather isn't the Hogwarts champion then. I certainly didn't hear a 'Hogwarts' after her name when she was called."
Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, agreed with my statement, "He's quite right. There was nothing on the slip of paper other than Heather's name. I believe the Goblet was tricked into thinking there were four schools and Heather was submitted for that nonexistent school by whomever is behind this scheme."
I nodded, "There. Settled. If anyone has any more problems with this… well, I quite literally couldn't care less. My loyalty is to Heather in this situation, not any of you."
Heather's hand squeezed mine just a little bit tighter. I glared flatly at everyone who looked like they might protest. Fleur met my glare with one of her own. That girl really didn't like me. I just had to hope she eventually got over it for Gabrielle's sake.
"I believe this is a fair concession to make on Heather's behalf. If she is forced to compete, she should have all the help she can ask for," Dumbledore said. "With that decided, there is some information about the tournament that we must share with the champions-…"
I stopped paying direct attention as a System notification popped up in my vision.
< New Quest Unlocked: The Triwizard Tournament >
< Condition(s): Keep Heather Potter alive through the Triwizard Tournament. Quest bonuses will be given for exceptional performance by Heather Potter during the three (3) tasks. Also, deal with Lord Voldemort once and for all… >
< Rewards: One (1) Perk, One (1) Title, +5 to EVERYTHING, Potter Family Magic Unlocked >
Oh… Oh. I guess that gives me a pretty good hint of how Heather ended up in the tournament. Now I just have to figure out who at Hogwarts was working for Voldemort. And figure out a way to kill a Dark Lord who doesn't want to stay dead…
No matter. This was just more motivation for the Grind.
[AN: The bit of Goblet lore isn't canon but I thought it was more interesting this way. I don't think I've seen a Goblet that isn't ancient and powerful. This is an AU anyway.]