Fourth Champion
A/N: I've not seen anyone do this particular version before, but I would imagine someone out in the wide, wide world has already had a similar idea. Be that as it may, this is my take. Don't worry about Sirius. He will be explained in another short section to be posted later.
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Albus raced down the hallway. It wouldn't do for him not to be there for the announcing of the Triwizard Champions. Afterall, he was largely responsible for the resurrection of the ancient and deadly tournament in modern times.
*Crack*
"Damnit" He ground out through clenched teeth. He grabbed his throbbing foot and bounced up and down in place several times. Fortunately, no one could see him. Being disillusioned while running at a breakneck pace was certainly useful in getting to somewhere fast, but it did not allow for keeping track of one's long legs. He had stubbed his toe painfully on one of the uneven stones that made up the long hallway. Oh, the things I do to maintain my reputation...
Once again, Albus wondered whether it would really be all that dangerous for people to know that he hurried from time to time, that sometimes running left him out of breath, or that even he was occasionally late. Then he remembered the last time he was lax with himself - Voldemort was unleashed upon the world. He resumed his run. He was already late, he knew, but he was sure McGonalgal would be more than adequate... at least he HOPED she'd be more than adequate as least until he got there.
Rolling his ancient and tired eyes, Albus, released his foot and resumed his running.
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As he ghosted around the room, he noticed the throng was in an uproar, no doubt due to the inexplicable fourth Champion that the Goblet had chosen. He smiled as he eased up to the doorway behind that very same Goblet; briefly he wondered if any of the students would be loyal enough to Harry to actually stay with him through this year's challenge. The only one he was certain that wouldn't burn bridges was the Weasley chit. She was so head over heels for the boy that Albus was sure that she would, at the very least, hold her tongue.
Dropping the disillusionment, he strode confidently into the room, an equanimous air about him. He prepared himself to act shocked over the discovery of his underage charge being chosen for a dangerous, life-threatening tournament against people several years his senior, which also happened to be a wonderful way to further distance him from his peers, break his spirit, and teach him the skills he would need to survive for a little while longer. Such genius could only have come from one such as I. He gloated to himself.
"Minerva, forgive me for the delay. Alastor was feeling unwell. How did the Champion selection go?"
Cold eyes all around the room swivelled to focus on the Hogwarts Headmaster. Karkaroff and Madame Maxine appeared even more upset than he had anticipated. My plan goes even BETTER than I envisioned. When Crough gets out of the Hospital wing, I shall have to buy him some firewhiskey. Even under truth serum, I shall be held blameless for this.
"Actually, Headmaster, the Champion selection had some... irregularities."
Minerva was colder to him than usual. Albus resolved to tweak her mental conditioning later. After all, it would not do for his deputy to be disrectful to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
"What sort of Irregularities, Minerva?"
Madame Maxine chimed in. "Irregulare'ities! 'Zis is an outrage! A fourth champion is unheard of!"
"I agree, Albus! How could you let this happen?" demanded Karkaroff.
Dumbledore looked benignly clueless. "I'm sure we can work everything out to everyone's satisfcation. Minerva, what is this about a fourth Champion?"
"Exactly as it sounds Headmaster." She pointed to Mr. Diggory, Mr. Krum, and Miss Delacour. "These three were selected by the Goblet as one would expect, but then a fourth name came out of the Goblet. I immediately reconvened a meeting with the other officials in this room. Headmaster Karkaroff and Headmistress Maxime have both threatened to withdraw if this isn't cleared up."
Albus pretended to look shocked. He glanced at the other heads of their respective schools. They nodded firmly to show their agreement.
Albus prevented himself from smiling, but only with exceptional effort on his part. "And has the fourth Champion been informed, Minerva?" Curiously, Minerva McGonagall seemed to hesitate, as if deliberating over something. Albus assumed it was due to the fact that she had always had a soft spot for young mister Potter, but Albus had put a stop to the possibility of her interfering shortly after she had gotten him his first broom. How else would boy learn to be independent and distrustful of authority if he had professors he could actually rely on? Dumbledore mused.
"No... He has not been informed yet, Albus."
"This is quite serious. The Goblet is a powerful magical artifact and once it has chosen there is no alternative but for the Champions to compete. If one does not, he will certainly lose his magic and perhaps his very life. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Crouch?"
"That is so, Headmaster Dumbledore. All chosen by the Goblet must compete." Crouch agreed while staring dully ahead.
Imperiused up the wazoo, thought Dumbledore. The old greybeard twitched his lips for a moment. "Very well, have him come here and I shall inform him of what has happened and hopefully he will not die from the Tournament."
Normally, all people jump quickly to do whatever Albus Dumbledore decrees, but this time, all stood still, eyes darting back and forth in confusion.
"What seems to be the source of the confusion? Bring Ha-ahem-the student here. Surely that isn't a difficult concept?"
"Well, that's the problem, Albus," explained Sirius Black. "It isn't a student who was chosen as the fourth Champion. It was you..."
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-Meanwhile, in the Great Hall-
Harry sat with his arm comfortably around Hermione's waist. They were two beacons of calm in the cacophony that was the Great Hall. No one noticed, but each had a small, thin, piece of flesh colored material pressed to an ear. They were listening intently to Harry's mirror. As agreed, Sirius had left his own mirror active but hidden so that the two could listen in on the proceedings.
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-The Weighing of the Wands-
"Ah, Albus. I'd heard you would be competing. Terrible luck, that. Let us see.
One of mine, I remember it well." Olivander gently plucked the wand from Albus'
hand and examined it closely.
"It should be in excellent condition," Albus said with a smile. "
"I see..." Olivander commented while closing one eye and bringing the tip of the wand
so close that one might worry about residual spell fire. "-and you've done
wondrous things with a wand these past 57 -no- 59 years."
"Indubitably." offered Dumbledore, with no little forced cheer.
"But not with this wand." he said simply. As Dumbledore had handed over his
original wand (now his backup), his current wand was tucked away out of sight,
and he had not expected this reaction - he was helpless with what came next.
"Accio Albus' other wand", murmured the aged Wand maker.
Shortly, another wand flew from Albus' sleeve and dropped into Olivander's
waiting hand. "I thought so. No evidence that the wand you handed me had been
used for several decades - more than half a century since it has seen regular use.
You should know better than to try to hand over any but your everyday wand at an
official judging." He looked down at the new wand. "Not one of mine... but it
appears to be... -YIPE!-"
Albus' eyes widened.
Olivander dashed away. "Oh Mr. Black! I must speak with you." And with that,
both Olivander and Sirius Black excused themselves to the hallway.
Several moments passed and the two re-entered the room.
Sirius spoke. "After some deliberation, it has been officially decided that
Champions shall have only one wand for use in the competition. Here you go
Champion Dumbledore." He handed back Dumbledore's spare.
"I think I would prefer my other wand as the primary." A hint of desperation caught in
his voice.
Sirius looked at the old man shrewdly. Leaning close enough to whisper,
"According to Olivander, that wand can summon un-summonable items and stun even
very large magically resistant creatures un-aided. It would be an unfair
advantage... don't you agree? I can offer a receipt from the Ministry, but unless
circumstances change, you won't be seeing that wand again for the rest of the
term."
"What circumstances?" He asked. His face was tight with concern.
"Why, when you're no longer a Champion."
"But it is a binding magical contract. I haven't found a way out of the
tournament yet."
"Not my problem, Albus. Good day."
Albus wished Sirius Black was still a student... If he was still a student, then Argus would
have had cleaning help for the rest of the year.