"My return to mother was quick. After having breakfast and taking my leave from the ancient sorceress, I left her castle — conveniently located near an inter-world crossing unknown to modern wizards — and Apparated directly, first to Dublin, and then near the Malfoy estate. The local magical protection and numerous traps didn't respond to me at all, as I was still on the official guest list, so I calmly walked up to the steps.
The door opened, and there was a house-elf waiting at the threshold.
"Welcome, sir guest," the elf spoke, avoiding eye contact. "Dobby asks that you enter."
"Thank you." I entered, paused briefly to recall where we were staying, and headed there directly. Surprisingly, I didn't encounter anyone on the way — neither any of the British wizards nor the Báthorys or the Karpishins.
At least Mother was where I expected. She softened as soon as her gaze fell on me, seeing I was in one piece and not much the worse for wear. Evidently, Medb had gone out of her way.
"You took longer than expected… but by the looks of things, everything went smoothly," maman noted, correctly assuming I couldn't yet repair my own clothes. The complex charms interwoven into them were beyond me for now, unlike for the most famous sorceress of Ireland.
"No serious complications," I replied, not quite truthfully, but close enough. Except for the rushed finale, obtaining the sword had gone as planned.
"So, it was indeed for that sword?" She quickly noticed Orna on my belt, whom I'd convincingly persuaded to keep silent around others.
"Exactly. I'm not entirely sure why she wanted it…" And yes, that was a lie. I wasn't opposed to lying outright, but I was selective about it. "But the reward will be significant."
"Good. We are not the Romanovs to disdain practical ways to strengthen the family, relying on the glory we already have," she replied, her tone slightly mocking. "And the glory they lose with each generation, unable to maintain it at its old level."
"You're always so rational, Mother," I replied, with genuine respect. "By the way, how are the negotiations progressing?"
"Notice anyone in the mansion? The Karpishins and the Báthorys went to see Diagon Alley — perhaps to make a few purchases — and the British wizards left for an emergency session of the Wizengamot. About what, even they don't know. Dumbledore didn't see fit to include that in his invitation," she added, anticipating my next question.
"And as for…"
"Yes, the talks… While you were gone, nothing particularly important came up, except for one thing… Rumor has it the British Ministry is preparing to revive the Triwizard Tournament."
"Oh, that's the one where the organizers somehow managed to lose Europe's most promising students each time, right?" I asked, recalling a history book on the topic, not canon. In canon, it was significantly downplayed — understandable, as headmasters didn't want to keep losing their students, for various reasons.
"Not every time, but over five hundred years, they lost plenty of talent. If they actually manage to hold it again, I forbid you to participate," she said with such unshakable confidence that I realized she'd rather bind me and lock me in Azkaban than let me compete.
Not that I was keen anyway, given that the tournament organizers would likely ignore security again, letting things play out as they did in canon.
"I'm not planning on it, don't worry. A victory might bring fame… but only the fame of a daredevil, and that's not exactly appealing."
"I'm glad you understand that," she replied with evident relief. "If they do revive the tournament, which the British certainly have the means and people to arrange… Who do you think, among the current Durmstrang students, might become the Champion?"
"What timeframe are they considering?"
"A couple of years, maybe three. The timing would be ideal from several perspectives. Perhaps even that hero — Harry Potter — will participate," she suggested. It was plausible, given that there were no restrictions in previous tournaments; even first-years could join. "Lord Malfoy is unlikely to allow his son to participate. He admitted — when Lady Narcissa was absent — that he initially planned to send Draco to Durmstrang, but his wife persuaded him otherwise. And I must say I understand her concern for her son. Though from a practical standpoint, Lucius is right — he'd have been better off beyond Dumbledore's reach." She sighed, adjusting her glasses.
"That would certainly be an interesting turn of events," I replied. "Regarding who might have the best chance as Champion… Well, knowing Karkaroff, he'd likely choose his favorite — Krum. Excluding myself, Romanova might have a fair shot. She's very devoted to her large family, so she could try if it benefits them. And she has other heirs to follow her, though they're still young. Among my acquaintances, perhaps Erika might be bold enough to attempt it, but… it's unlikely, especially if she reads the chronicles of previous tournaments. Given the Goblet's criteria, these three are the most likely candidates."
"Understood. So, if your friend is excluded, the main competition will be between Krum and Romanova. Well, if the tournament does happen, it's certain to be quite a spectacle."
Oh, Mother, you have no idea just how interesting it's going to be.