Sin of Lycaos

SIN OF LYCAOS

Part Six: Tournament

by D.M.P.

***

Men are the sport of circumstances.

-Byron, Don Juan V.xvii

***

Chapter 21

The stairway in the trunk led to a tight cramped area, barely larger than a wardrobe. It was probably used for that purpose, which explained the straight wooden bars hung parallel to the ceiling. These bars were draped with cobwebs and layered with dust, revealing just how long since the wardrobe was used last. Lupin brushed off a corner for him and Mary and tucked themselves in, holding the lit wand between them.

Mary still had that fearful look about her and hugged herself as she leaned back against the wall. Outside, noises were heard, coming to them as faint thumps and ghostly shouts. At once especially loud thud, she jumped and took his hand, shivering.

"You want to hold this?" Lupin asked her, offering the wand. She nodded and took hold of the glowing stick. She calmed down significantly with the light in her hands.

"Remmy," she inquired, "who are the bad people?"

"The bad people?" Lupin repeated.

"What you said before. I didn´t know there were bad people after us."

"Oh, yes," he suddenly remembered. "There are, Mary. The people are from..." Lupin didn´t want to say 'police,´ afraid of giving the wrong impression to her. "They´re from the RMC," he substituted, hoped she wouldn´t asked what those letters meant. "I didn´t want to tell you before..."

Mary started into the little firefly light for a moment. "You mean you lied to me?" The inquiry came out in a slow, hesitant way. No accusation.

Yet the question came so unexpectedly that Lupin couldn´t answer. "I didn´t want to worry you," he finally said, after a long while. "It´s very grown-up business anyway." Immediately after he said that, he felt a pang of regret, despite its truth.

"Oh." That was all the girl said in reply. Lupin expected something else from her, and when she continued to be silent, he grew uncomfortable. It was the same feeling he had when trying to explain to her how stealing train rides was legitimate long ago. Except then Mary tried to prove herself right. Now she just accepted whatever Lupin said as correct. He didn´t like that.

"Look," he suddenly said, trying to get over his ill feeling. He held his hands up to the wand´s light and put them together, thumbs linked. "It´s a bird." On the opposite wall of the truck formed a silhouette of a bird, flying in circles.

"I know that one." Mary put the wand down and imitated him. She moved her arms up high over her head. "I can fly higher than you!"

"Really?" Lupin raised his arms up to match hers. "Want to try something else?" He put his arm level with his forehead and his other hand behind his head. "An ostrich," he said, explaining the long-necked creature on the wall.

"Is that a real animal?" Mary asked skeptically.

"Of course." Lupin moved his fore hand and pecked with beak-shaped fingers on top of Mary´s head. "Looks like this bird´s a little hungry," he said, picking up stands of golden hair.

"Hey! My hair isn´t worms," Mary giggled, swatting his hand away. She imitated his ostrich pose and began pecking back. "Ostrich fight!" she declared brightly.

The two started a little head-to-head game of ostrich tackle, which lasted for about ten minutes or so. Lupin was declared a cheater several times, choosing to tickle rather than fight and the end-result being one big laughing fit.

"No fair! Ostriches don´t tickle!" Mary tittered rolling up against the staircase.

"Maybe this one is just a very talented bird," Lupin kidded. "After all, ostriches can´t fly, so they might as well learn something useful."

"This ostrich can be useful too," Mary dived in, giving him a little head butt as she began tickling him as well. Her smaller hands touch immediately sensed his sensitive spot and Lupin put a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out in seemingly immature glee.

Thump!

The two froze in their position. Mary looked up toward the staircase. "What was that?"

"I don´t know..."

Thump!

Downstairs, the bookshelves in the common room were falling, tipped over by forceful pushes from the RMC officers.

In the attic, Lupin and Mary sat up, poised.

Thump!

Below them, a flood of books and torn pages and scattered playing cards tumbled to the floor.....

Jarohnen was having a fit in the hallway, with Toby and Ulysses standing over, trying to calm him down....

Claire stood stonily in the entrance, fists slowly clenching and unclenching....

The RMC officers steady action continued, sweeping through the common room. Parsons took out his knife and stared straight at her. Then, with sudden strength, he plunged the weapon into the couch, as if sublimating his movements.....

And the final bookshelf fell....

Thump!

Lupin and Mary were blind to this, but standing in the quiet darkness, staining their ears, they could faintly hear the shouts from below.

"All clear, sir! All clear!"

"Start the kitchen and the dining hall!"

Another series of booms and thunks. Chairs being overturned, Lupin guessed. Metallic clatter. Must be pots and pans falling out of their cabinets to the floor. High-pitched smashes that seemed almost indistinct. The sound of china breaking on the linoleum floor.

"What are they doing down there?" Mary asked.

"I don´t know..."

Mary wrung her hands together. "Do you think... Do you think the bad people will hurt anyone?"

"No." The answer came out immediately. "They can´t. They won´t," Lupin reassured her. "They´re officers, they can´t harm them, it´s -it´s wrong..." The sudden worry became cemented in his mind and his attitude became more subdued. Ostrich fights and shadow puppets were forgotten as the devastation progressed beneath them.

"But... but if they´re bad guys, then they do bad things, right?" Mary got up and then rushed up the narrow steps. "We gotta help them!"

"Mary!" Lupin got up and grabbed her by the waist. "We can´t go up there," he said.

"Why not?" Mary raised her head toward the locked ceiling of the trunk. "Madame de Chien-Loup needs us!" She went on, naming all of the tenants she knew. "And Lady Winifred and Toby and Sylvie and Ulysses and Jarohnen and-"

"Stop it!" Lupin repeated firmly. "We can´t go!"

Mary stared at him mutely.

"They won´t hurt anyone. The officers don´t have a reason to do so," Lupin explained. His voice came out too fast for his liking, and the idea cemented in his mind grew heavier. "The RMC is only looking for us. They don´t want to hurt anyone but us."

"But bad guys don´t care who they hurt," Mary reasoned. "Bad guys hurt anyone they want to."

"Well, not all bad guys do," Lupin fired back. The instinctual rationalization came into play. "Sometimes, um, sometimes people do bad things to others, and so those others think those people are bad, but they´re really not. Sometimes, people only do bad things, but aren´t bad people at all. So...," he sighed, realizing he was contradicting what he said before, "the RMC are bad, but only bad to us."

The sounds outside intensified, but Mary didn´t turn to look up any more. She had her eyes only on him, those clear blue eyes trying to understand what he meant. Trying to understand who he was, who they were. "So if the RMC are bad guys to us... and not all people are bad guys to everyone... then... are we bad guys too... to them...?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

***

Another fifteen minutes, and a creak was heard from above. Lupin put Mary behind him and returned the wand to his hand. The hazy light beamed down upon them, and they stepped back toward the shadows.

"It´s okay. They´re gone," a familiar voice echoed down to them. Lupin stepped foreword and raised his eyes to see Toby, lantern raised above his head, those gold highlights shining against the burnished red.

Lupin nodded in acknowledgment, but it was Mary who ran up the steps and out of the trunk. Her little feet hit the attic floor long before his did, and Mary was down the ladder and out of the room before Lupin even left the trunk. He moved slowly on purpose.

"How bad is it?" he asked Toby.

The young man shook his head. "Bad enough," he replied. "No one hurt, but it was bad enough."

Climbing down the ladder, Lupin saw into the open doorways on the second floor. His eyes widened at the destruction. All the broken keepsakes, the ripped clothing, the overturned mattresses. He passed one room and found metal bits and pieces scattered all over the floor, the remains of a typewriter. He passed another room and saw Jarohnen and Lady Winifred sitting on the disheveled bed. Jarohnen was cradling a mass of splintered wood and string, and Lady Winifred sat nearby, a silent comfort. The old man´s mouth moved ever so slightly, forming the words, "Anya.... my Anya..." in sorrowful tones.

I caused this, Lupin thought to himself. It was a numb realisation, one that caused a certain shock that rendered him only able to observe with an awkward detachment.

For some reason, Lupin paused by Jarohnen´s room and stayed there. Watching the old man hold those scraps of wood so carefully was something he couldn´t take his eyes off of. He had never seen Jarohnen whisper like that, or be mournful like that. Always, standing in the center of his beloved Freedom Hounds, he preached and ranted, full of lively energy. Never could he imagine the old man like this. He wondered what those broken bits used to be that affected him so greatly.

Toby paused by the door also. "That was a Stradivarius," he said, as if reading Lupin´s mind. "It was his wife´s. Jaroh used to play it sometimes, when the winter nights got too quiet. Claire kept it safe for him here." He shook his head. "Can´t believe the agents got to the violin."

Carefully, he pulled Lupin´s arm away from the doorway, allowing the Ianikit some privacy once more. Yet Lupin could still hear the words, "Anya... my Anya...," ringing in his mind.

Everything seemed to be too real for him, seeing this destruction. Some of the tenants were already in their rooms, righting the beds, gathering the bits and pieces of precious things now lost, their backs bent down like workers sowing in a field. Many had a blank look in their eyes, coated over with acceptance and defeat. More than one werewolf raised their face to give Lupin a resentful eye as he passed. Lupin turned his head away as their sharp glances pierced him, feeling ashamed. Gawking at this like he was some spectator - that wasn´t right. And yet he was only a spectator, observing ruin that excluded him. Or rather, placed him in the center of it all.

Their expressed hatred was justified. Lupin hid himself while they were left to take the officers´ backlash. He knew that he had good reason - Mary - but nevertheless, he felt like he had acted the coward once again. The wolf with the tail between his legs.

Toby left his side to help. Lupin watched him slip into the writer´s room, the woman looking about for a missing bit. The young man kneeled down to pick up that iron piece and presented it to her like it was solid gold. "You missed one, Sylvie," were his words.

Coming down the stairs, Lupin saw the hall empty. Yet the sounds of clean-up filled his ears. Groans of wood upon wood as the shelves were being pushed back into place. Subtle-soft whispers of china being swept from the kitchen. Shouts from Ulysses conducting the work in the common room.

"Careful! Careful, now!" A glimpse of him straining against the weight of the bookshelf. "Someone, grab hold!"

Lupin passed by one of the tenant rooms and stopped again. Mary kneeling on the floor, picking up patches of cloth. Contents of Lady Winifred´s scrap bag, thrown all over the floor.

Mary looked up at Lupin. There was no bitter feeling in her eyes. "I told her I´d help," she said. "So she could be with Mr. Jarohnen."

Of course. He suddenly became pulled back into reality with those words. The idea came so clearly now, he wondered why it didn´t come to mind before. Of course he couldn´t just watch! Devastation should never be a spectator sport.

He took the wand out of his pocket. With a poised, almost casual, wave he raised his arm. Silent words were murmured.

Mary reached for a bit of blue and white striped rag only to have it fly out of her hand. She gasped as then all the bits and pieces of wool and cotton and linen all neatly sorted themselves into organized piles. The balls of yarn became untangled and rolled back up into their tight little bundles, to be stacked by the wall. The mattress stuffing flew back into the pad is if by vacuum force, and the bed made itself, pulling up the sheets and folding up the bedspread. Within minutes, the room was immaculate.

The girl looked up to see Lupin turning from the doorway.

He poked his head into the common room. Ulysses and other Freedom Hounds were lending a hand before tending to their own rooms. The group of seven was busy stacking up books and gathering fallen game pieces.

One wave of the wand, one burst of magic - the books flew up like birds taking wing and zoomed back into their place on the shelf. Chess pieces danced in the air and before dropping into the wooden box, one by one. What happened with Lady Winifred´s mattress repeated with the sofa as well, the stuffing slurping up through the tears into the sofa, the rips sealing themselves up after.

The Freedom Hounds gazed about with childlike wonder in their eyes as the magic swarmed about them. Some turned their heads to the door and welcomed him a respectful nod, backing away from the middle of the room to let him continue his work. Ulysses had his arms folded across his chest, a welcoming smile on his face.

With the silence fit for a saint, Lupin walked from room to room, straightening out, re-organizing, fitting items in, putting them back, repairing broken irreplaceables once thought to be forever lost. The initial surprise on the tenants´ faces Lupin did not notice; their pleasure and gratefulness he treasured.

Once the first few rooms were fixed by his hand, word spread of his actions and everyone at the Safehouse stopped their clean-up. Some followed him after he completed his job fixing their room. A small crowd quickly developed, watching his every move. He was a conductor with his magical baton, composing a sense of order into every mess he came upon. The porcelain chips coalesced to form plates again; the beds reconstructed themselves into study frames of wood; the emptied closets were put into better form than ever before.

Claire was picking up the papers in her office when she saw Lupin and his audience at the threshold. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off as the papers around her began to rise into the air. Instinctively, she grabbed at them and affronted him with a defensive stare that clearly stated, Back off.

But Lupin didn´t back off and within no time, the papers were stacked neatly into stacks, the books were shelved in alphabetical order, and the phone and computer were in working order once again. Claire sat on the floor, the expression of amazement still on her face as he left the room.

Upstairs, Toby and Sylvie were still cleaning up themselves. The typewriter, however, still lay dismantled in the corner. Lupin crouched down by the pile of scrap metal and picked up the largest piece there, the metal framework of the machine. "Reparo typewriter," he said, the first audible words heard throughout his entire salvage mission.

The metal shuddered and all of the little parts were lifted into the air. They buzzed about like little insects, their worn, oiled surface shining like multifaceted eyes. Switches and tiny pulleys were re-assembled and placed in, followed by the tiny hammers that stamped the letters on the paper. The block letters that made up the letter pad were assembled into perfect order and placed on top, lined with the metal sidings and knobs. The final frame to hold the paper was placed in last, with the rulers and sliding bits lining up and locking into place. The machine whole again, Lupin placed the heavy item into the startled hands of Sylvie and Toby.

"Careful," he said, his mouth forming a smile. "Don´t want to drop it."

Lady Winifred was waiting for him with an arm around Jarohnen´s shoulder. Delicately draped like a funeral shroud, the broken violin lay in his hands. He and Lupin met eyes and the Ianikit handed it to him. "The wizardin´ werewolf," he acknowledged respectfully.

Lupin took up the sealed bundle and opened it. Fractured bits and pieces. Agent Fleming probably threw the violin against the wall. And why? Because wizards don´t play Muggle instruments.

"Reparo violin," he whispered and the magic worked once more.

Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle thrown together, the shards of wood gathered and fused into one with a hint of golden sparkle. Each of the separate mahogany-colored pieces hovered in the air for a moment, enveloped with a shimmering dust. This dust became like glue and fitted each part of the instrument together. First, the sidings snaked its way along the edge of the backing, to the topped off with the front to form the hollow body. Floated in next came the ebony fingerboard and the neck of the instrument, with the little tuning knobs jumping in place. The bridge of the instrument - a tiny hand-carved sliver of wood - was placed in the middle. Lastly, each string hooked itself up around the tuning knobs and uncurled at the base, straightening themselves up along the fingerboard and taunt across the bridge. A soft chord welled up from the violin as if were singing for joy. The sparkle faded. It was done.

Jarohnen blinked a couple times as if an invisible sun blinded him, and he took hold of the Stradivarius with gentle hands. He ran his fingers over the wood, now whole and unflawed. With quick little plucks, he pulled at the strings to hear each one perfectly in tune. Jarohnen turned the violin over to see the back, and for the first time Lupin noticed that there was a delicate design etched into the wood. Fine threads of dark black snaked along the edge, burnt in with a hot knife. Tiny leaves and flowers bloomed and in the corner, near the shoulder of the instrument was a small symbol. A carefully tooled crest of a black wolf, with a Russian inscription underneath.

Jarohnen rubbed his thumb along that crest, and those broken window eyes darted up at Lupin once more. He opened his mouth and it wobbled, as if unsure of itself. The old man closed those chapped lips, licked them, and opened them again, now managing to speak.

"Anya loved this violin," he said in a nostalgic trance, his tone far from the usual growl. "The family would gather together sometimes when she played our songs. She was marvelous, she..." His voice choked with emotion and he trailed off for a moment. "That night- that night P.A.W.S. came... the clan had to separate. We thought if we did, maybe more of us could flee the city safely. And so Anya put this into my arms and said, 'Take this. Play it, and I will find ya again.´ " He shook his head slowly, eyes downcast. " ´Twas the last I saw of her alive. They caught her and my cousins in the train yard. Killed 'em all and strung 'em up the next day as a warnin´ to the rest of us."

He grew silent, the story finished. Most of the other tenets left the room by then, willing to give this man some peace. When Lupin turned to go he felt a hand grasp his arm. Jarohnen´s eyes were moist with tears as he said a final word.

"Every time I play this, my wife and I find each other. Ya saved her memory, comrade. I will not forget that."

Lupin didn´t know what to say. Putting a hand over the Russian´s, he squeezed it gently and nodded. An indescribable feeling passed between the two loners, that of sudden trust and loyalty. Then, letting go, the werewolf wizard left the room.

Entering his own room, Lupin felt the sudden weight of the past couple hours suddenly take its toll. The room was still dark, and he could see that the officers did not touch this room, probably thinking it vacant. A sign that he was completely spared from the destruction.

He fell upon his own bed, and pulled the rumpled bedcover over him. He felt so empty inside; he had been filled with so much grief, worry, and shame that had been slowly siphoned out of his body, leaving behind an empty shell. Glancing at his watch, he found it was only 5:58 in the morning. Outside, the misty gray day was beginning.

He buried his head within the covers. Gentle footsteps entered the room.

"You okay, Remmy?"

Lupin peered up to see Mary by his bedside. He took her hand in his. "I´m fine, my girl," he said. "Just a little tired."

"Madame de Chien-Loup wanted to say thank you," she informed him. "She wanted to know if you´d like breakfast now."

"Maybe later. Aren´t you tired too?"

She shook her head.

"Means that you´ll be going to bed early tonight."

" ´Sokay." She paused for a moment. "You did a really nice thing, Remmy. I wanna say thank you too."

Lupin gave a sad smile. "Your welcome then. Tell the others that as well."

She nodded. The girl leaned over by the bedside. Small lips pressed against his cheek, long lashes brushing across the skin. Butterfly kiss. "G´night," she said sweetly.

"Good night." Lupin rolled over on his side, hearing the door being closed behind him. Silence crept into the room. He lay in bed, staring at the painted walls, thinking. Downstairs he heard the active daytime noises of cooking and chatter. Everyone was moving on from what happened just hours before. Yet there were so many blank faces in the halls and in the tenant´s rooms, as the werewolves garnered what little they can. How many times did they have to go through incidents similar to tonight? How many times must they go through it again before their pitiful street lives are over?

But within the stillness there was a weak murmur that broke his train of thought. Lupin focused his hearing. A faint, beautiful caress humming through the air. The dainty sound of dancing notes, weaving in and out, up and down, drifting through the air on gossamer wings. A nostalgic voice calling from a time long gone by. The tune of a Russian folk dance.

The last thing Lupin heard was the Anya´s song, lulling him to sleep.

Chapter 22

Lupin awoke to the hot, afternoon sun beaming down upon him from the bare window. He got that feeling one gets when they have been in bed for too long - a dizzy, lethargic sense that led to stiffness of the limbs and laziness of the eye. He groaned and got up, refusing to be conquered by apathy.

Stopping by the communal washroom to splash some cold water over his face, he then headed to the common room. The hallway doors were slightly ajar, with many of the rooms completely empty and cleaned out as if they were never occupied. That bothered Lupin, considering that with at least thirty current tenants, all the rooms were filled.

The common room was less populous than it was before, with only a fraction of lodgers remaining. Sylvie was at her typewriter in the corner as usual, and Ulysses had started a game of poker, with each of the Freedom Hounds betting cigarettes in place of money. Yet they were the only ones there.

Ulysses was passing the cards, saying in a business-like manner, "Easy five-card draw; wilds are one-eyed Jacks and suicide Kings; winner takes all."

Jarohnen was sitting on the bricks by the hearth, his Stradivarius in hand. He was showing Mary how to pull the string across the bow. It was one of the first times Lupin saw the two interact together. But of course, since Lupin had not allowed Mary to associate with him before.

Making his way to kitchen, he saw Claire washing the dishes.

"Most of them left," he stated.

Claire turned her head with her arms still in the sink, up to the elbows in suds. It was one of the few moments in the day she appeared domestic, with her hands scrubbing away and a wisp of hair hanging down over her eyes. Lupin wanted to brush that wisp of hair away, but did not dare make a move.

"Bonne après-midi," she greeted. "I 'ave something for you on ze table."

A warm bowl of beef stew with some bread on the side. A half-full pot of coffee accompanied it, steaming still rising from the top. He glanced at her turned back. How did she know he´d be awake?

"Thanks." Lupin gratefully took a seat and repeated his comment.

"Oui." Claire took a pot in her hands and started scrubbing the stained interior. "Lady Winifred and most of ze street wanderers left zis morning."

"But why?"

"Because I told zem zey could leave."

"What?" he asked, surprised.

Claire fired him a look. "It wasn´t like I kicked zem out. I told everyone after ze clean-up zat we all know ze truth, wiz you and Mary 'ere. And I gave zem two choices. Stay, and possibly be indicted for 'elping a wanted felon by ze Registry, or leave for France where my cousin Eunice owns ze Safehouse in La Brague."

Lupin shook his head. "It shouldn´t be this way..."

"Hey, at least zey are not stuck out in ze cold." Claire shelved the last of the clean dishes and hung the old towel on the hook by the sink. "I´ll be in my office," she said, leaving through the door behind him.

Thinking himself to be alone in the room, Lupin poured himself a cup of coffee. There was cream and sugar on the table too. Helping himself, he stirred him two sugars and sipped from warm mug. He jumped when a delicate hand touched his shoulder, nearly upsetting his cup.

A hushed whisper behind him. "Merci beaucoup, Remus." Then she was gone.

Lupin hesitantly touched his shoulder where her hand was and glanced behind him at the empty doorway. "Hmf."

A small smile crept across his face for no apparent reason as he picked up a thick slice of bread. Dipping it into the bowl, he took a bite, then a sip of his coffee. His eye wandered to see that Claire was also considerate enough to leave the Sunday edition of the Daily Prophet out. It must not contain any articles concerning him, or she would have told him so.

He felt relieved that the Safehouse search didn´t make the news. Yet why would it? The wizard reporters were mostly biased in favor toward wizards during their article writing; who would dare write a story based on the prejudices of public? However, if he was caught last night, then every wizard paper from London to Bangkok would be filled with righteous details about how an evil werewolf was brought to justice. He could see the perfect headline for it as well: "Big Bad Wolf Caught with Illegitimate Pup."

Lupin picked up the paper offhandedly, mug in hand. However, the front page made him lose his appetite.

BLACK ARRESTED AFTER HOME INVASION

The mug fell from his hand. He never noticed until he found that the sleeves of his robes were wet.

"Oh!"

Floundering, he grabbed for a napkin and hastily mopped up the spill, holding the paper up in disbelief. His eyes scanned the heading several times, letting the information sink into his brain. It was a relatively lengthy article, accompanied with a picture. The photo was of an old, stout wizard, beaming. The man chuckled to himself, hands on his protruding belly, and winked up at Lupin. Underneath it was the caption, "Ex-MLES officer Harvey Plumb succeeds in Black capture."

If it were not for the fact that Plumb was only a picture, Lupin would have punched that cheeky grin off the wizard´s face. Instead, he began to read.

At around two in the morning, the last thing on any wizard´s mind would be an intruder. Yet last night Harvey Plumb was more than shocked to discover a wanted ex-convict in his living room.

"I was scared half out of my wits," the 57 year-old wizard confided to the Associated Wizard Press this morning. "Heard some peculiar noises when I got home, but only thought it was my cat Stockings roaming around."

But it certainly wasn´t a household pet that occupied his three-story home. Plumb, after coming home from a late-night party, heard some suspicious sounds when he came through the front door, but only thought it was only his cat misbehaving. However, when he checked the living room, he saw a trespasser kneeling down in front of his fireplace. Taking quick action, Plumb successfully fired a Stun Spell at the stranger, knocking him unconscious.

"It was almost an instinctive reaction," Plumb, a retired MLES captain, commented. "I mean, twenty years on the Magical Law Enforcement Squad teaches you to act fast when you have to."

That police experience became extremely helpful to Plumb, especially when he found out that the interloper was none other than the infamous Sirius Black. Plumb, then immediately called the MLES and handed over the fugitive to the proper authorities.

"I would call it more luck than skill that I got him," he admitted. "But nevertheless, I suppose I still got the skills it takes to bring down the bad fellows."

Black, known as the murderer of thirteen people with a single curse and devoted follower of You-Know-Who, has been on the run since last June. Previously, he had been caught on Hogwarts grounds by Professor Serverus Snape, but had managed to slip out of the Ministry´s grasp before he could be taken to Azkaban.

This morning Ministry representative Basil O´Shay reported in a press conference the possible motives for the home invasion.

"Apparently, Black had broken into the home with the intention of using the fireplace," O´Shay informed reporters, "possibly to contact the Dark Lord."

As an ironic twist, Black must not have realized that he had broken into a home of a retired police official. Now in custody, many wonder what Black´s fate will be, yet most have a good idea that it would end up in the Dementor´s embrace....

The article went on to explain what the details of Black´s past history as a runaway and his escapade at Hogwarts, much of which Lupin already knew. However, his eyes ran over the article once, twice, three times, with both hands clutching the paper, his iron grasp crushing the flimsy newsprint.

No.

It couldn´t be, he thought. Not now, not Sirius! Yet as the minutes passed, the words of the Daily Prophet slowly ingrained itself into his conscious. The Ministry had caught Sirius Black. After almost five months from wild freedom, his old friend was reined in once again.

Lupin swallowed hard, his mouth gone dry. Supercharged emotion coursed through his veins, another shot of adrenaline that he tasted the night before while in hiding. The shortness of breath. The heartbeat racing. Almost blinding disbelief that made him feel lightheaded and weak.

God, calm yourself, Remus! Breathe!

Finally putting down the newspaper, he put his head in his arms. He gulped another draught of air, then another. Be rational about this, Remus. Calm down.

Think about the situation. Go over what you´ve just read.

First off, Sirius had been caught by the Ministry.

Damn.

Second, he was caught invading another wizard´s home.

Why?

Obviously the Ministry´s assumption that Black had been contacting the Dark Lord was false. Sirius was never one of Voldemort´s followers - of that Lupin could be sure. But if Black had any reason to use the fireplace, it would be in contacting someone, since he didn´t have any Floo Powder for transportation. Any there was only one person he would want to talk to.

Harry.

Yet why would he want to talk to the boy? Lupin knew full well of Harry´s letters that he had been sending Sirius; Black had showed him them during their summer rendezvous. Sirius must have had some extremely urgent information to tell Harry if he would risk using another person´s fireplace to talk with the boy face-to-face.

Lupin was sure of the reason why: the Triwizard Tournament. All the earlier suspicions he had about the event were confirmed with Sirius´ actions. Of course some underhanded business was going on if Harry was put into the Tournament, especially since he was far too young to qualify. Harry might very well be in danger. Only that could have brought Black to come to such an extreme.

But did Black ever get a chance to talk to Harry? How much did Sirius suspect, or how much did Harry learn from him, if they spoke together at all? And exactly what danger was Harry in, besides the one involved with participating in the Tournament? Did Black suppose the First Task itself was rigged against Harry? Could there even be a saboteur residing at Hogwarts?

A million and one possibilities laid before Lupin with this new information. However, one thing was certain: he had to attend the Triwizard Tournament. For the boy´s sake, above all else. If Sirius forsaken his freedom, possibly even his life for Harry, Lupin saw no choice but to take Sirius´ place and fulfill his wishes. He would become Harry´s watcher, his lookout, his de facto guardian.

Lupin rose from his chair, feeling a sickening, self-consciousness from the importance of his self-imposed duty. He stared at the newspaper article one more time, then his hand grabbed the edge of the front page. With a steady pull, he ripped the top half of the front page off and crumpled it up. The picture of Plumb looked surprised at such action, and mouthed silent words of protest as he beat against the edge of the photo. Ignoring Plumb´s reaction, Lupin crumpled the paper, forming it into a tight, harmless wad. Then, he tossed it onto the magical stove. Automatically, the heating mechanism triggered. Lupin watched unflinchingly as the paper withered, blackened, and crumpled into white ash.

Chapter 23

Madame de Chien-Loup was re-organizing some files on the shelf when Lupin stepped into her office. Even though the papers had been gathered up last night, they were still out of order. Claire was in the middle of revamping the entire Safehouse paper database, and many manila folders, portfolios, and large binders littered the desk and floor. She certainly had a many hours of work ahead of her.

"Claire?"

"Yes, Remus?"

He took and seat in front of her desk and fold his hands together. Lupin paused, unsure about how to begin. "The Triwizard Tournament is coming up in a couple days," he began casually.

"You still want to go?" Claire didn´t bother to hide her surprised tone of voice. She dropped the pile of files back on her desk and gave him a look of disbelief.

"I have to go," Lupin explained. "I just gotten word for some very pressing issues that I need to attend to."

"You want to go?" she could only repeat in a hard voice.

He bit his lip. "Yes," he affirmed, uncertain of her reaction. "I need to see that man you know, Claire, who can get me in."

"Oh, I see...." she turned to him, arms crossed. "After last night wiz ze Registry 'ere. Wiz ze Ministry obviously on pursuit. Wiz possibly ze whole wizard community about to be put on alert for ze only werewolf wizard in existence. And 'ere you think, 'Hey, why not go out and watch ze wizard game!´ "

"It´s more than that-"

"What? Ze Potter boy? Do you 'ave to risk everything for ze Potter boy?" Claire narrowed her eyes at him. "What makes 'im so special?"

It wasn´t so much that fact that Harry was in danger than it was that it would have been Sirius´s final wish. Oh, if only Lupin could explain this to her! Yet her anger was reasonable. This risky request just made Lupin seem ungrateful for what the werewolves had done for him, didn´t it?

"I´m not unappreciative for anything that you´ve done for me and Mary," Lupin started again, "and I don´t mean to take advantage of your situation in anyway. It´s just that..."

"Zat what?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had no choice but to reveal to her what he knew. "Sirius Black was caught by the MLES last night."

"Yes, I know. What does zat 'ave to do wiz anything?"

He stared at her straight in the eye. "He´s a close friend of mine."

An odd expression swept across her face, as if he had said the very thing she had least expected. "You know Sirius Black?" she said in a low voice.

"We became friends during my years at Hogwarts," he answered.

"And you are still friends wiz Black now?" Claire questioned, aghast. "You-Know-Who´s right hand man? Ze lunatic who killed thirteen people wiz a single curse??"

"No, no, it wasn´t him who killed them; it´s a long story..." Lupin took a step toward her, but she backed away from him. Her grey eyes reflected a confused mistrust.

"And I believed you were ze wizard boy´s ally, a friend," she accused. But you really want to kill 'im, just like Black wanted to do!"

"Get a hold of yourself, Claire and let me explain," he said gently. He backed away as well, throwing caution to the wind.

"Black was ze Dark Lord´s servant." Madame was slowly opening the drawer and took something out. "Ze papers say zat he was ze one who convinced many to follow 'im. Zat he rounded up ze Death Eaters."

"That is all lies, all media propaganda. Sirius isn´t the same person portrayed by the Ministry." Seeing the look of obvious skepticism in her face, he started again. "Listen, I believed that story as well; I believed it for many years. Black being Voldemort´s servant. But it´s all false. Black was framed for the murders-"

"Do you 'ave proof of zis?" Claire snapped.

"I have personal proof." Lupin thought of that night at the Shrieking Shack, and was sorely tempted to tell her of it. But there can be so few with whom he could confide this information with, and even if he did, would she believe him? About his friends being Animagi? About how Peter Pettigrew, that deceptive rat, betrayed his friends and set Black up to take the fall for him? The whole story was too personal, too deep, for him to confess. And what if she should scoff at his words? He did not have any evidence, other than his own experience. No, he cannot tell her now; ridicule from her would be too much.

"I trust Black," he could only confirm. "I would risk my life for him, Claire." One step foreword.

"I don´t want you to endanger yourself." She turned her head, revealing her sharp profile against the soft office light. "We - my people - cannot lose you."

Was it truly the werewolf community, or one person in particular? Lupin frowned, pushing back the question from his mind. "I will take precautions," he said. "There are spells that would help me. I planned to take the Polyjuice Potion," he said, giving an example, "to help disguise myself during the Tournament."

"Are you sure you want to do zis?" A final question.

"Yes."

Lupin could not be sure of the expression on her face. Her shoulders, however, slumped down a bit before she agreed. "I´ll tell you where Garrett is," she said. "He´ll take you."

***

"I bet a five."

"But you don´t have any fives."

Dominic picked up a cigarette from his personal stash and snapped it in half. Throwing the shorter stub into the betting pile, the blond werewolf grinned. "Now I do."

"That´s a cheap move." Toby, who was sitting across from him, picked up one of his own cigarettes as an example. "This is a ten, you see." Ripping the cigarette in half, he then explained, "But this is not a five. This is crap." The ruined cigarette dropped from his hands, sending tobacco crumbs all over the playing table. "See? So don´t wimp out and go bet a ten."

"That isn´t crap," the fellow Freedom Hound defended.

"You bet it ain´t crap." A dark-eyed woman snatched the unfiltered end of Toby´s cigarette and lit it with a lighter. Taking a puff, she blew the smoke into Toby´s face, laughing, "Still tastes good to me!"

Toby fanned his hand over his face, coughing. "Stop it, Antonia," he snapped.

"Oh, kiddo, you know I only joke." The Spanish lady reached over and ruffled the young man´s hair. "You so decent, it kills me."

"It´s still legit," Dominic pressed, still on his topic. He put his elbows on the table and put his cards face down on the table. "I mean, half a ten is five, so why can´t half a fag be counted as a bet of five? Right? Right?" He turned to the other players for support. "Theo? Harriet? Margie?"

"Hey, you´re already winning by two packs," growled Theo bitterly. "Don´t be stingy about betting." The two women made no comment and stuck to examining their hands in further detail.

"Isn´t it legit, Ulysses?" Dominic continued. "You gotta know."

Ulysses looked up from his hand, his face still in bland poker-mode. "Yea, I don´t see nothin´ wrong with that," he drawled.

"See?" Dominic approved. He slapped down his hand in triumph. "Told ya so."

"But I agree with Toby here," Ulysses added in that same tone, "that you was cheap. Trade in two, Theo."

Toby smirked. "Ha," he scoffed, grabbing the other half that Antonia didn´t take. He lit that piece and put the ripped cigarette to his lips, letting it hang there, smoldering.

Ulysses rolled his eyes, then spotted Lupin entering the common room. "Hey, Remus," Ulysses called, waving a hand from the table. "Want to join in?"

Lupin shook his head. There was a somewhat distracted look in his eye. "Not now," he answered, "I don´t smoke anyway."

"Well, neither do I." Toby removed his cigarette and exhaled blank air. "See? Don´t inhale."

"Odd one prefers sniffing," Harriet commented.

"Hey, I figure it´s less poisonous to the lungs that way," Toby defended.

Antonia stared at him mockingly. "And what kind of outlandish idea is that?"

"It´s been proven," Toby said, leaning back in his chair. "Muggle studies somewhere... America right?"

Antonia put the stub of her cigarette out on the tabletop. "America. When did anything good come from America? Rich, incompetent wizards and rude, flamboyant Muggles."

Lupin smiled and shook his head, amused at their playful banter. All the stress of last night´s Registry sweep seemed wiped from their faces. But he knew that it was only part of the life of a street wolf - a constant game of grin and bear it. They were a tough little pack; the homeless in itself made a league of their own.

Taking a seat in the corner, he watched Jarohnen and Mary with the Stradivarius. Mary waved to him with bow in hand. "Mr. Jarohnen is teaching me how to play," she told him.

"Careful, comrade, careful," Jarohnen reached out to pluck the bow from her hands. "Hold it with a swan´s grace - gently, like this."

Jarohnen showed Mary how to hold the instrument correctly, with the left arm supporting the violin while the right grasping the bow. Adjusting her stance, he instructed, "Hold that violin up higher. Keep your chin tucked in. Don´t bend your wrist. There," he finished, backing off. "Now try a few notes."

"Hey, Remmy, watch," Mary cried, trying to keep the large instrument in the correct position. The instrument was far too large for her to handle, and her little hands barely managed to keep the violin from slipping from her grasp.

Mary moved her right arm, pulling the bow across the strings. Several high-pitched, scratchy rasps came out. Both Lupin and the Freedom Hounds cringed in their places at the off-tune notes, but Jarohnen clapped loudly.

"You´re getting there," he reassured, coming back to the child. "Just hold your bow straighter so it plays across one string at a time."

Mary tried one more time, with another scratchy result. Lupin´s mind, however, wandered from the terrible sounds to focus on what he had to do.

The idea of going to the Triwizard Tournament was a daunting realization, now that the actually task was at hand. Today was November 23; the Tournament was going to start within two days. He told Claire that he would get a disguise, or rather, a sample from someone he would want to impersonate. Taking a hair from any deadbeat on the streets would be easy enough, yet he knew that he would not be able to get into the Tournament as a Muggle. One of Hogwart´s many bulwarks was a type of don´t-notice-me spell similar to a Fidelius Charm, except that it affected Muggles only. So if Lupin were to disguise himself as a Muggle, he would never be able to find Hogwarts; even if he walked right into Hogwarts´ front doors, he would never realize it.

Therefore it would be best if Lupin found a wizard whom he could pass off as, but that was even harder. He had no idea if and when the Registry wanted to go public about his crimes, and confronting a possible witness to his whereabouts was something that Lupin did not want. The only choice, he now realized, was to try and use the Polyjuice Potion to morph into another fellow werewolf.

He looked at the scene with its seeming harmony and peace. Who would be willing to help him with this? All of them, essentially - that is why they stayed here while everyone else left for La Brague, isn´t it?

Jarohnen was teaching Mary where to place her fingers on the fingerboard in an attempt for her to play actual notes. Lupin called him over.

"I can´t press the string down enough," Mary muttered. "My hands are too small."

"Just try again, now. Ya almost got it," Jarohnen assured before approaching Lupin. He guided the old man to a far corner, making sure than no one else was within hearing range. Mary looked at them wonderingly, but then returned to her attempts at the violin.

"I need to ask for your advice," Lupin said to Jarohnen confidentially.

"Anything." The Russian spread his arms out while saying this. "Go ahead."

"It´s about the Triwizard Tournament."

Jarohnen´s attitude immediately hardened at the mention of that name. "The wizard event?" he growled.

"I want to sneak in. I´ve already talked this over with Claire," he added, "and she has agreed to it."

Jarohnen arched an eyebrow skeptically. "I never thought ya would be concerned with wizardin´ things." He scoffed a bit. "Wizards sending their own youngsters to get killed doin´ stupid stunts. Only they would call it a spectator sport."

"It´s very important that I go. Personal matters." Lupin gave a momentary pause. "I can´t go as myself."

"Then how can I help?"

"I´m making a potion that would help disguise myself, but all it needs is a hair sample from the one I want to pass myself off as."

The old man lightened up at the mention of magic. "Ya need me for your spells?"

Lupin explained, "I need to impersonate someone. Hopefully, I wouldn´t be caught by Tournament security then. Do you know anyone willing to do this?"

"Why not me?" Jarohnen suggested. "I wouldn´t mind."

Lupin eyed the old man questionably, taking note of the stooped back, the withered hands, and small limbs. "I think I might need someone younger..." he said apologetically.

"I´m not as poor in shape as ya think," Jarohnen refuted. "Hell, I´m 84 years old, but that don´t mean I´m lackin´ in spirits."

Trying to be sincere as possible, he replied, "I´m very flattered at your offer, but I have to be sure the body I duplicate is physically fit enough to react quickly if needed."

Jarohnen didn´t seem to be listening anymore. "Look, is it a hair ya need?" He took a pocketknife from within his flannel shirt and easily clipped a tuff of snowy white hair. "This enough?"

Lupin received the lock of hair graciously. "Um, thank you," he said.

"No problem, comrade," Jarohnen tipped his head and gave a small smile.

"I might need more than one disguise, however," Lupin added casually, "as an extra precaution."

"Nice thinkin´." Jarohnen waved a hand toward the card table. "Boy, get over here."

Toby stopped leaning back in his chair and put down his cards on the table. "No cheating," he warned, getting up from his seat. Upon turning his back, however, Dominic peeked at the young Freedom Hound´s hand. "A royal flush," he announced.

The other Freedom Hounds groaned or rolled their eyes at this tactic. Margie, who was sitting next to him, punched Dominic in the shoulder. "You dumb scallywag!"

"Are you still betting then?" Dominic sneered.

She sighed and threw her cigarette in. "Idiot," she muttered.

Meanwhile, Toby met up with the two. "What is it, Jaroh?" he asked.

"Toby here´s the youngest of all of us," Jarohnen said to Lupin. "How old are ya now?" he asked Toby.

"Nineteen in April," Toby answered. 'Why?"

"Spry and healthy. The peak of his youth." Jarohnen said proudly. "Ya willin´ to help the wizardin´ werewolf with somethin´?"

"Of course!" was the eager reply. "What do you need me for?"

Lupin explained for the third time his plans for the tournament. "What do you think?" he ended.

Toby frowned. "It´s risky. And I have no idea what you see in wizards at all...." he sighed. "What if you get caught? What would happen to Jaroh and me?"

"That´s the risk," Lupin said. "You don´t have to do this-"

"Who said I wasn´t? Jaroh, lend me your knife." With one deft stroke, he chopped off a snip of his red hair right above the ear. Giving the hair to Lupin he said, "Just be careful."

Jarohnen nodded with approval at the boy´s agreement. "Toby´s right," he said, turning serious. "We´re countin´ on ya not to make any dumb mistakes."

***

On the morning of November 25, Lupin got ready to leave the Safehouse for Hogwarts. The Polyjuice Potion was made and poured into two canteens for him to carry on a belt around his waist. One contained his disguise as Jarohnen, the other as Toby. He planned to come in as the old man, on Claire´s advice, for the elderly wasn´t suspected as much as the young. Toby´s disguise would be on standby, just in case Lupin ever needed to become someone younger and more able than the Russian.

Besides the canteens of Polyjuice Potion, Lupin didn´t pack anything else other than his wand and some money; that was enough to take care of him. After years of traveling alone, he considered this short trip a leisurely one, for this time he actually had a decent amount of quid on him. That was provided by Claire: a few Sickles and Knuts. She made no complaints about the budget this time.

"Just stay out of ze cold," she told him. Handing him the money, she hesitated, as if wanting to say something else. Yet she only added, "And keep your nose clean, oui?" After that, she quickly escaped into her office and shut the door.

Mary was another matter entirely.

"You can´t leave!" she protested. "I don´t want you to!"

"It´s only a couple of days," Lupin promised. "Just stay with Claire and I´ll be back before you know it. Mr. Jarohnen promised to give you another lesson with the Stradivarius."

She flung her arms around Lupin´s waist and let her feet drag along the ground. Burying her head in leg she said in a muffled voice, "Please take me with you..."

"I can´t, Mary." Lupin gingerly disentangled himself from her. "I have business to attend to and I need to do it by myself."

"But," she still latched on, "I get scared when you´re not here."

"I´ll always be here." Lupin touched the cross that Mary wore around her neck. He had removed his identification tags from it earlier and given the necklace to the girl as a gift. "Remember what I told you before?"

Mary nodded.

"Trust me."

She grasped the small cross, an action that Lupin had done himself many times. "I won´t let it go until you come back," she declared in a low voice.

"Well, I won´t dawdle. You might hurt your hand from holding on too tight." Lupin kissed the girl on the top of her head. "Take care, Mary."

She lowered her eyes, her hand clasped over the necklace. Her little figure standing in the foyer was the last thing Lupin saw when he left.

Chapter 24

Finding transportation to the Triwizard Tournament was easier than Lupin expected. The Tournament was a high-profile event, yet was restricted from public attendance because of the massive crowding and safety concerns that would result from open attendance. However, that also meant other methods to witness the event were highly popular, if the right place was found.

Lupin went underground to accomplish this, literally and figuratively, by way of the subway station. The place was packed with commuters all on the go; practical since this was rush hour. Yet gazing over the Muggle swarm, he spotted who he was looking for quickly.

A nonchalant man sat at the bench near the base of the stairs. He was dressed in shabby, loose-fitting clothing worn only by the homeless, a stack of newspapers by his side. He seemed out of place sitting there, especially when a newspaper stand was less than ten metres away.

"Got all the papers, 'cluding overseas!" the owner of the newspaper stand called. "London Times! Wall Street Journal!"

Lupin walked down the stairway leading to the platform to the bench. He met the occupant´s pointed stare. "Want to read the paper?" the stranger offered when he came within hearing distance. A rolled up London Times was tucked in his fist. "Heard there´s a big event in the Sports section."

"Very big, in fact. I´m quite eager to go," Lupin acknowledged. "How do you know I´ll get a better price with you than somewhere else?" He tipped his head over to the stand.

"You interested in just reading about sports, or actually being there?" the man countered.

"You know how to take me?"

"I have a ship docked at port, ready to sail."

"I´m interested." Lupin sat down on the bench. "You are Garrett, correct?"

"Since I can remember."

"Is that a Portkey you´re holding there?"

"Snitched it during the Quidditch World Cup and revamped it myself." The man smiled proudly to himself. "Those bungling officers don´t know how to handle nothin´." Then he turned serious. "This is a one-way ticket here, chum. You find your own way out of Hogwarts and I´m not responsible if you get caught or anythin´."

"All right then," Lupin agreed readily. "How much?"

"50 Galleons."

"I don´t have that kind of money on me."

"Then bug off, chum. Can´t waste my time on you." The smuggler moved to get up from his seat, but Lupin put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"I heard you bunked with Claire de Chien-Loup awhile back."

Garrett softened. "The lady´s a saint. I came to her with a bout of pneumonia and she sat by my side every day 'til I got better." He fidgeted a bit with the rolled up newspaper. "Is it true?" he asked slowly. "About the Registry comin´ to the Safehouse?"

Lupin nodded gravely. "The officers completely ransacked the place, but no one got hurt."

He gave a low growl. "Damn bastards.... Shoulda been there."

"I was there," Lupin assured, "and helped out with the clean-up. Claire sent me here."

Garrett nodded, staring ahead into the milling crowd. Biting his lower lip, he stated, "Me and Charlotte," - he pointed over to the owner of the newspaper stand - "we might drop by there later." With a sidelong glance he added, "You´re not pulling my chain? You coming from Claire?"

"How else would I have found you than through her?"

He thought this over a bit, then looked behind him and waved. The girl at the stand gave a brief nod, then continued her advertising.

"I suppose I owe you something then." The man gestured toward the newspaper stand. "We disappear in the crowd," he said. "Walk toward the stand. No one would notice."

They both got up from the bench and nonchalantly walked toward the crowd. Mingling with the rushing Muggles, Lupin lost sight of the smuggler. Then, he felt someone shove an open newspaper into his hand. Garrett whispered, "Hold on."

Lupin did and felt a sudden jerk so quick that he almost fell. He collided in with the man and the two bumped heads. Yet before he could even cry out, Lupin felt something pull at him, and he rushed forward, into a whirlwind accompanied by a flash of color and light-

Thump!

He and the smuggler fell on top of each other as they hit the ground, tangling themselves so that the man´s knees were pushing his head into the ground. As a result, Lupin unpleasantly received a mouthful of dirt.

"Get offa me!" Garrett disentangled himself from Lupin and straightened out his clothing. "You´re in the woods five kilometres or so from Hogwarts," he said. "Head north and you´ll get there."

"Uh... thanks..." Lupin rubbed his head where he had hurt himself. He coughed a couple times and brushed the bits of dried grass from his jacket.

"Don´t mention it." Garrett opened up the newspaper up. The Portkey was triggered again and Lupin watched as the man´s middle was pulled in. He seemed to be made of rubber as his waist was slowly being pulled through the newspaper. "Good luck, Lupin," he added briefly.

How did he know his name? Lupin wanted to ask, but by then the man was completely sucked up into the paper, leaving it briefly floating in mid-air. Then, the newspaper collapsed in on itself, crumbling and shrinking until it disappeared with a faint pop!

Now alone, Lupin took a view of his surroundings. He was officially in the Forbidden Forest; the heavy undergrowth and thick, massive trees was a clear sign of that. The forest was still draped with the colours of dying autumn. Unlike London, it wasn´t covered with a layer of snow. Using his wand, Lupin commanded, "Illac Hogwarts!" His wand rose up into the air and spin around like a compass needle, finally settling in a northward direction. Taking heed of the path ahead of him, Lupin then plucked his wand out of the air and journeyed forth.

Five kilometres of walking didn´t bother him in the least, and Lupin was only concerned about not getting lost. Several times he repeated the spell in order to check that he was heading in the right direction. One would fear that monsters and dangerous creatures might be haunting these woods as well, but Lupin had no need to be afraid. The Forbidden Forest around the Hogwarts was relatively safe, since it was considered centaur territory. Centaurs may be reclusive from humankind, but they knew how to protect their lands and were extremely watchful of their property. The only thing that Lupin feared was getting caught trespassing by an unruly centaur archer.

Thankfully, the trek through the forest remained uneventful and after about an hour he found himself near the edge of the woods. Because he was coming round the back of the school, he didn´t expect to see anyone there. However, as he got closer, the sounds of a large gathering came to his ears, along with faint roaring from some large animal. When the forest thinned out, Lupin could see a bright yellow tent set up nearby, and an even larger enclosure made out of thick planks of wood and chain-link fencing. The roars came from there, bellowing out into the open sky.

Lupin crept up to the side of the enclosure to see if he could make out what it contained. The wooden planks were sealed tight, but Lupin managed to spot a small crack between two of the boards. Peering through, he saw a flash of blue scales sweep by. Then, a wizard´s voice called out, "Whoa back!" Several snaps of cable were heard and the thing moved away from the sidewall into full view. The creature roared out a blast of pale-blue flame, bucking back against its keepers.

Lupin almost felt his heart stop.

Dragons.

The first task was dragons.

"Watch out! Whoa back!" came the call again. Several men and women surrounded the beast, throwing ropes over its back and neck, trying to keep it still. The Swedish Short-Snout bucked and kicked, stretching its sleek, firm muscles and sending out billows of white smoke and blue fire. Nearby the red, spiky form of the Hungarian Horntail was seen pacing the enclosure, while a Welsh Green and a Chinese Fireball snapped at each other, with wizards trying to stop this skirmish.

What kind of mad event is this? Making the students face dragons?? Fear quickly welled up within him for the poor challengers and his concern for Harry grew. He never thought the Ministry would be as crazy as to allow students as young as him into something as reckless as this! Surely, something could easily go wrong. Lupin imagined a hundred and one things happening to the child: being burned alive with seething flames, or chomped on by vicious jaws, or simply being flattened by one stomp of the beast´s foot.

Well, Lupin just had to make sure Harry knew what he was doing. Yet Harry also had no idea about Black´s capture. The boy had to know, but was now the right time to tell him? Certainly with the First Task about to commence in only a few minutes, Harry must already be a nervous wreck. Lupin did not want to put the boy´s state in more severe jeopardy.

Taking the canteen of Polyjuice Potion from his hip, Lupin took off the cap. He had to get in disguise before he took a seat in the audience. Checking around to be sure he was alone, he then raised the canteen to his lips. The fetid stench imposed upon his sensitive supernatural sense of smell and he held the container away from him. A cross between prune juice and rotten eggs - not the most invigorating of scents. Holding his nose, Lupin gulped a good dose of the potion down.

The liquid zoomed straight down into his stomach and spread throughout his body as if melting his insides. He scrunched up and kneeled over, nearly dropping the canteen. Immediately, his back bent to an aging stoop - his knees creaked unpleasantly - his frame shrunk - arms and legs shortening, and his clothes becoming looser - the hair on his head began to recede, then bloom out and turn white as his nose grew larger and his face began to sag with age-

And then, the metamorphosis abruptly stopped. He looked down at his hands, now wizened and covered with age spots. He flexed his fingers together and moved his arms and legs a bit. Very stiff, slightly sore.... Lupin suddenly felt much more fragile than he had before in his own body. It was as if he fell he might break into a million pieces. Probably true, considering that Jarohnen was 84 years old. From his jacket he produced a set of robes he had carried with him, and gingerly put them on, completing his disguise.

However, taking a step foreword, Lupin was surprised to realize that he did not suffer any pain or rheumatism. Waving his arms back and forth a bit proved that Jarohnen´s body did not suffer from arthritis or any signs of weakness at all. He walked faster, assured that the Ianikit wasn´t lying at all about his state of health.

Lupin made his way to the group of filing spectators heading into the arena. Moving with the hurrying spectators, he passed by a small yellow tent set up by the entrance. Two stern-faced Ministry officers waited outside the flap opening. A frowning Professor McGonagall slipped out, murmuring something to the guards. She wore a troubled expression on her face, with her arms crossed and her brow knitted with worry. It was the most distressed state Lupin had ever seen her in; she must be truly concerned for Harry.

Lupin stopped where he was and paced slowly around the tent, keeping with the crowds so that the guards wouldn´t notice. Soft light radiated from the tent; inside, several figures sat or paced. The Four Champions.

Harry was in there. Maybe Lupin could wait outside for him, possibly slip in when he´s alone....

One of the guards took noticed of him and started walking through the crowds to get to him. Lupin darted away, slipping past wizards and hurrying toward the entrance of the arena.

Enormous wooden bleachers were set up around the area; it was obvious that they were magically set up or it would have taken weeks otherwise. Some lucky wizards who had spots on the lower half only had to climb the stairs, but those with higher seats had security officials levitating them up. Others even took their broomsticks to catch a quick ride to the top row. Looming on top of the bleachers on either side were the spacious box seating for ambassadors and Ministry officials. Guards on broomsticks hovered outside them like bees to a hive.

Looking around at the crowds, Lupin summed up that most were Ministry officials and their families, along with the students from Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts. He could differentiate between the three schools from the colored robes they wore: Beauxbatons had delicate pastel-colored silk robes, and Durmstrang donned massive wool robes with thick fur cloaks, while Hogwarts students were dressed in their own individual house colors, with most wearing their wizard hats as an extra boost of school spirit.

Lupin luckily found a spot at the end of the sixth row and gratefully sat down, resting his tired legs. His position was somewhere in the middle of the bleachers, the perfect spot to view the First Task. Glancing at the other students, he saw that many of them he still remembered as his former students. There was Neville Longbottom sitting only a few rows below him, and Seamus Finnigan sitting by Dean Thomas two rows above him. Draco Malfoy - a much-detested student of his - was over near the front, leaning over the guardrail, watching the dragon thrash about.

"Excuse me, just passing through."

Lupin´s observations were broken off by a girl with bushy brown hair standing in the aisle. He gasped, "Hermione!"

Hermione Granger gave him a perplexed look. "What did you say?"

Of course she couldn´t recognise him, not in this disguise! Lupin quickly amended, "Oh my knee...! Um... Horrible rheumatism, miss. Simply terrible to deal with."

"Did I bump into you? I´m so sorry!" she apologised.

"No harm done." Lupin got to his feet so she could pass through. "Go ahead, miss. Sorry for blocking your way."

"Um, thanks." Hermione stepped past him to her seat, just five or six spots away from his. Ron Weasley was there too, saving a seat for her. Hermione seemed to forget about him as soon as she took her seat, thank goodness. Lupin chided himself on his carelessness. Remember, he wasn´t Remus Lupin, former Hogwarts professor, but Jarohnen Ianikit, anonymous Russian wanderer.

Lupin contemplated what was he to do now that he was actually there. If something went wrong, could he jump in to save Harry? Well, at best he could Apparate the boy back. Maybe that would be enough. In actuality, however, Lupin realized that if he did attempt to do anything to save the boy, that would surely call attention to him, something that he could not afford, even in this disguise. However, he would be on standby, in case anything should occur.

What he really wanted to do, however, was talk with the boy. Having not having any contact with him over the past few months, Lupin wondered what Harry was up to. Surely he maintained correspondence with Sirius; Lupin knew from meeting up with his old friend during the summer. He felt a little hurt at the fact that Harry cut him off the moment he resigned from Hogwarts. He personally wondered whether it was an unconscious response to the fact that he was a werewolf. Maybe he could ask Harry that, when he had the chance.

In the centre of the arena, a group of dragon keepers were setting up the task, hauling in a large, stick nest filled with a dozen or so eggs. All of them were a dull grey color, except one, which was a shiny golden hue. Then, the gates on the far side of the arena swung open. The roars grew louder as a formidable Swedish Short-Snout was hauled in. The crowd seemed to cry out in awe and wonder at the creature, their murmurs increasing as the dragon came into full view. Thick cables were wrapped around her scaly dark blue arms, legs and neck, and several dragon keepers were pulling on those cables to haul in the protesting beast, while others had their wands out ready to spot them.

Lupin held his breath in wonder as well as the Swedish Short-Snout was guided to the nest and the ropes were untied. Despite his extensive knowledge about dragons, the appreciation of seeing the creature being introduced was not lost to him.

Sniffing the nest curiously, the dragon´s maternal instinct was triggered. She then sat down calmly over her clutch as if she always belonged there, hissing at the dragon keepers around her to stay away.

Was this the creature Harry had to face?

A whistle went off from the announcer´s booth, and a hefty, blonde man dressed in yellow and black striped robes dashed out of the tent. Lupin couldn´t see who exactly this person was, but a spectator next to him said in an excited hush, "Look, there´s Ludo Bagman! It must be starting!"

Down below, Ludo picked up his wand, waved it over his throat (Must be a Sonorus spell, Lupin thought) and then announced in a booming voice, "Ladies and gentleman, I proudly welcome you all here today at the opening of the Triwizard Tournament!"

The crowd roared with wild anticipation as Bagman continued, "The First Task is a difficult one. Our four brave challengers will now face the daunting feat of snatching the golden egg!" He gestured to the place where the egg laid, nestled among its insipid-colored companions in the nest. At that precise moment, the Swedish Short-Snout let out another ferocious roar, adding to the moment. Many murmurs of awe and excitement came from the crowd.

"And now, may I welcome the first challenger, Hogwarts´ own Cedric Diggory!!!"

A tall, handsome boy stepped out into the arena as the crowd burst out in its loudest roar of applause yet. Lupin covered his ears at the noise and looked down at the two figures. He wished he had a pair of Omniculars so he could have a better look, but settled for leaning forward in his seat and squinting.

Cedric sidestepped slowly parallel to the dragon and her clutch, as if trying to observe this situation properly. Or possibly he was just trying to steady his nerves. Nevertheless, after a few moments, Cedric brandished his wand, called out a command, and pointed to a small rock at the corner of the arena. A flash of reddish dust flew out and hit the stone with a blast. All attention was turned to the rock as it wiggled- it grew larger- it hopped up and down, changing form - then, barked.

"What´s this?" Bagman questioned. "Is Mr. Diggory using some sort of transfiguration spell to help him?"

Lupin blinked. Jarohnen certainly didn´t have the best hearing in the world; he was a bit deaf. But couldn´t everyone else see the rock suddenly sprouting legs and a tail...? It began running about, losing its blocky, hard form into a more animalistic shape....

"Rowf! Rowf!" cried the rock, which soon wasn´t a rock any longer. A large chocolate-colored Labrador was in its place, running around and barking loudly. It froze in place and looked about the arena with a startled expression, as if it suddenly realised just what happened to it. Yet the shock wore off quickly. The Labrador glanced behind it and spotted its own tail. Smiling broadly, it barked and started chasing its rear end.

Some of the audience clapped in appreciation of the spell. The Swedish Short-Snout turned around to stare at where the noise was coming from, and a couple of dragon keepers waved their arms about, trying to keep her focused on the challenger.

"Very impressive Transfiguration!" Ludo complimented. "Very difficult level to attain, but he accomplished it rather well. Let´s see what Mr. Diggory plans for the animal."

The dog stopped chasing its tail at the sight of Cedric and ran toward him happily, but the boy made shooing motions with his hands, trying to steer the dog away toward the dragon. Lupin took immediate offense that the boy was trying to tempt the dragon with a Labrador. A deer, he thought, would have been much more effective.

Despite the poor choice of prey, the dragon eyed the dog hungrily.

"The dragon is preoccupied- is it going for it?" Ludo questioned. "Oh it looks like she might... The Short-Snout is eyeing the dog... eyeing the dog..."

The Swedish Short-Snout took a small step forward. The Labrador yipped in a panic and dashed away. Giving out a huff of bluish smoke, the dragon took another step away from the clutch.

"And she is!" Ludo exclaimed. "What a crafty way to lure a dragon - through its stomach!"

Lupin glanced over to where the announcer booth was below. Bagman´s commentary was starting to get on his nerves.

"There the Short-Snout goes... Oh, hurry Mr. Diggory, over to the nest! Wait, there goes the dragon. And there goes Diggory. The Short-Snout... and Diggory... Diggory.... and the Short-Snout... One step at a time here folks- this might take awhile..."

On almost exaggerated tiptoe, Cedric crept toward the eggs. Each time the Swedish Short-Snout took a step away from the clutch, he took three steps closer to it. The crowds were silent, as if holding their breath as they watched. The only sound that was heard came from the poor Labrador, as it barked frantically while it ran alongside the walls of the enclosure, trying to find a way out.

Cedric almost got away with actually taking the egg. Less than twenty metres from his goal, however, when Cedric entered the dragon´s fire range, the Swedish Short-Snout turned away from the dog, losing interest. Unfortunately, Cedric supervened as the new target.

"Rooooaaarrr!" The Swedish Short-Snout stomped back in place and whipped her tail out at Cedric. He stumbled back and froze, hoping that the dragon wouldn´t see him as a threat.

From his spot in the announcer´s booth, Ludo broke the spectator silence. "Clever move - pity it didn´t work!"

The Swedish Short-Snout snorted and puffed out a cloud of smoke, then sent in a blast of flame. The crowd gasped in unison as Cedric ran off, the flame missing him by less than two metres.

"Oooooh, narrow miss there, very narrow...!" Ludo commented as Cedric high-tailed it past the dog away from the dragon. Yet he didn´t chicken out with this. As a stroke of luck, the Labrador rushed out of the way when Cedric passed and began running in the other direction (apparently the dog didn´t possess much intelligence because of its stone origins). When the Swedish Short-Snout saw the dog rushing her, she screamed in anger and delivered another column of fire. The dog was enveloped in flame, and the entire audience groaned in disgust and horror as the animal died instantly. Lupin winced and felt pity for the wretched beast.

Yet the poor Labrador´s death wasn´t in vain, for Cedric took this distraction as a chance to bolt to the clutch at breakneck speed.

"He´s taking risks, this one!" Ludo shouted as Cedric made it to the nest and grabbed the egg. "Look at him go!"

The crowd cheered as soon as contact was made, yet this also called the dragon´s attention to the eggs. Spotting Cedric so close by, she howled in rage and tried swiping at him with her stubby arms. Cedric bent his head low and wrapped his arms around the egg, preparing to run it out of the dragon´s line of fire. The task simply became a race against time as the boy fled from the dragon´s aim.

"Diggory´s ahead-! Get out of the range, boy!"

The dragon inhaled -

Cedric was running desperately, in a quarterback position, egg tucked under one arm -

The dragon opened his mouth, the smoke building up in her throat -

"Diggory racing from the dragon! Ten metres, fifteen metres, twenty -"

The Swedish Short-Snout yelled and fired with a Whoooossssshhhh-

The fire caught Cedric at an angle, hitting the side of his face. A mix of wild cheering and callings of concern erupted - the former for Cedric´s triumph and the latter in response to his injury. As if appearing out of thin air, the dragon keepers were on the scene again to restrain the Swedish Short-Snout, throwing up the cables to bind her up again and shouting Stun spells.

"Oooh, we have the first injury of the Tournament!" Bagman exclaimed, and Cedric stumbled and collapsed onto his knees.

Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey rushed immediately to the field to help aid him. Cedric had his hands over his face and the dripping bright red blood could be seen from the stands. Several other wizards on standby waited a few yards around them, concerned looks on their faces.

"How is our Hogwart´s Champion?" Bagman questioned. "Is he all right?"

From the field, Professor McGonagall was levitating Cedric onto a stretcher. Madame Pomfrey carefully examined the burn, then turned around and gave a thumbs-up to the announcer´s booth.

"And he´s going to be okay, folks!" Ludo cheered. From either side of the bleachers, cheers and applause rang out to the injured Cedric as McGonagall and Pomfrey escorted him out of the enclosure.

"Amazing! There you have it!" Bagman called proudly as Cedric disappeared out of the gates. "Very good indeed! And now the marks from the judges!"

The five judges sat at a long wooden table inside the announcer´s booth, positioned so that the audience had a good view of them: Madame Maxine, Mr. Barty Crouch, Ludo Bagman, Dumbledore and Karkaroff. Lupin found it odd how Ludo could get away with being the announcer and a judge, but then again, he figured that the wizard had enough strings to pull to get anything.

Madame Maxine was the first to present her score. The marks were one of out ten and a silver ribbon bloomed out from her wand to form an 8. Very good mark indeed, considering Cedric received an injury.

Next came Crouch- a seven.

Ludo had an about-face, his face turning grim as he proclaimed his score - another eight.

Dumbledore was the most generous of them all - a nine.

But of course, with that Transfiguration, Lupin thought. In less than a minute too. Something like that could be enough to impress McGonagall herself.

Karkaroff, however, was not impressed at all. A three.

Several boos from the crowd came at this judgment. However, Lupin watched quietly while down below, dragon keepers cleaned up the charred remains of the Labrador and removed the Swedish Short-Snout. He was half-impressed with Diggory´s bravery and skill and half-impatient for Harry´s turn. What dragon was he going to face? Only three choices were left: the Chinese Fireball, the Welsh Green, and the Hungarian Horntail. Lupin hoped it wasn´t the Horntail. Harry was a capable wizard; Lupin taught him how to ward of Dementors once, not a simple feat. But it was going to take more than magic to outwit a dragon.

Soon, another expectant roar came as a Welsh Green was released into the arena. Like the dragon before her, the creature sniffed at the nest curiously before taking her place over the clutch. Lupin braced himself and prayed for the boy to get that one, but a Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons was the recipient of that. As she came out in a tense walk, Lupin crossed out that choice in his mind. Either the Horntail or the Fireball for Harry now. Prey tell let it be the Fireball, Lupin thought.

***

Mixed among the hoi polloi at the arena grounds, one man watched silently from his spot by the announcer´s booth. Dressed inconspicuously in grey and black robes, he blended in with the shadows. Anyone passing by wouldn´t give him a second glance. Yet that did not mean he was not of any importance. Quite the contrary, this man and his team was sent in by Cornelius Fudge to supervise the security at the Triwizard Tournament. His code name was Croaker.

Croaker scanned the crowds uneasily. He wanted magical detectors to be put up at every entrance of the arena to scan for any bad magic, whether it were spells or devices. However, Dumbledore had all-out refused to provide him with permission for such things, saying that the blood spell over Hogwarts and the recently hired ex-Auror made Hogwarts safe enough. Possibly because of that Dementor episode last year, the Headmaster had been cautious about sending out any additional protection lest it created unwanted attention and concern.

However, Croaker was furious with this. It was his job to make sure nothing during the tournament went wrong. Sure, Mad-Eye Moody was a nice investment to security, but anyone could admit that the man was paranoid as hell. Paranoia did not equal security; it equaled an old man´s senile incompetence. Croaker had more than one reason to be nervous: if anything - anything - went wrong during this event, he would be the one whose head goes on the Fudge´s cutting board.

Taking survey of the packed bleachers, the Unspeakable estimated a crowd of at least 3000, quite large for such a small area. Yet this mass contained some of the most important dignitaries in all of England, in all of Europe even. Cornelius took a box seat at the highest spot, rooming with the political and social elite. The Deutsches from Vienna were also there, along with the Van Kelstroves from the Netherlands and several foreign ambassadors from Africa and the Far East.

In fact, Croaker could calculate the appropriate position of all the spectators. All the celebrities should be in the box seats, which were in the upper quadrant of the bleachers, right hand side, with families below them. Students should be in the left side, mid to lower section. Right now, the crowds were packed, and Croaker scanned his eyes constantly along the teeming mass, Omniculars in hand. Maybe he was pulling a Moody here, turning paranoid... but... wait, what was that...?

Focusing at the audience he pointed out the view mid-way up the bleachers. Who was that? A man sitting in the student-appointed section of the audience! How could that be? Did he make a mistake? Maybe he was part of the dignitaries or a family member gone astray...

Zooming in on the person, the Unspeakable saw the white-haired old man. He clicked on the tagging feature on the side of the Omniculars. All the important political and social celebrities were marked with special VIP auras, and citizens were similarly marked. This should detect the status of this stranger.

The Omniculars buzzed slightly as a miniature screen popped up in the viewer. A flashing bar raced down a list of the VIPs and their families, trying to find a matching aura for that stranger. After a few moments, the bar came to the end of the list, blinking rapidly and giving a low beep beep. A sign appeared, saying in block lettering: NO MATCH FOUND.

Croaker´s innate sense of danger increased. He then used the Aura Identifier to pin-point what magical aura this creature had. Certain colors indicated whether it was a wizard or otherwise. No color meant that he was a Muggle. That was something Croaker did not want to see.

However, this man did have an aura. That of a Dark Creature. A registered werewolf.

The little warning bell went haywire in Croaker´s head. The werewolf was a danger to the safety here at Hogwarts. Any werewolf was up to no good. Who knows - maybe the monster wanted to go on a rampage here. Should he have one of his people go after him? Maybe he should wait for the werewolf to make the first move.

Croaker put a hand to his ear. A Liaison Charm was put over his ears, so that he could maintain contact with all the other members of his group. Whispering softly, he said, "Code Yellow. Spot a suspicious person in the bleachers. Left-hand side, six rows up, end seat. Over."

A moment later, tiny voice responded in his ear. "Jaguar here. Message received. Describe the suspect. Over."

"Short, thin man about 80 or more years old. He´s not an identified Ministry member, dignitary, or faculty member at Hogwarts. Have a suspicion that he is a registered werewolf. Over."

"I´ll take a shot and have the standby confirm the ID."

"Exactly. Bring your findings to me ASAP. Over."

"Order confirmed. Over and out."

***

Lupin watched as the girl in the enclosure faced her challenge. Down below, Fleur Delacour stood stock still, looking at the Welsh Green in the eye. The dragon returned her stare with eyes filled with distrust. Taking out her wand, she raised it over her head as if to fire a vicious curse. Yet instead, she began to sway softly back and forth, first with her arms, then flowing downward until her body was gently rocking. Waving the wand slowly above her head, Fleur murmured unheard words to the dragon. Her body moved to the mysterious rhythm of her spell, and with her arm upraised and her hips swaying, she resembled an Indian belly dancer.

"It seems like Fleur is attempting some kind of.... of... of...." Ludo´s commentary trailed to a halt as Fleur arched her back and kicked her leg up overhead. She then straightened herself and twirled around, letting the wind play with her skirt. Her long legs were easily seen as the wind rode up the dress, revealing much more than a school uniform should. She put a hand behind her and arched her back, waving the wand about in the air in front of her.

Staring rigidly, the Welsh Green watched her actions with a guarded disposition. However, as Fleur´s dance continued, her gaze slowly began to soften and droop and glaze over. The dragon began moving her head back and forth in unison to Fleur´s movements as the girl wove her spell with mesmerizing skill.

Back at the bleachers, the eyes of the male audience started to glaze over as well. Ministry members and students alike leaned forward in their seat, and those lucky enough to have Omniculars had to fight with others to keep their advantage.

In his own seat, Lupin stared at the girl as she continued conducting her charm. He couldn´t keep her eyes off her. The way her hips moved slowly back and forth and the grace of her wand hand as it moved casually through the air entranced him. The way that the sunlight shone down her, making Fleur appear to be Aphrodite herself. Oh, and not to mention the nice view from behind-

He snapped out of his attraction. God, he was a good twenty years older than her! Nearly seventy in this body! To take his eyes of the girl, Lupin took out his canteen and drank another sip of the Polyjuice Potion. The potion plagued his mouth with its horrible taste and kept his mind off prurient thoughts involving the Beauxbaton student. Certainly, with the way she drew the male crowd, it was almost like Fleur was part veela or something....

In the aisle, a woman in tan robes walked past him. The bleachers were crowded and she tripped upon a step. With a sharp gasp, she fell forward, dropping her purse.

"Whoa!" Lupin got up and caught the crook of her arm before she fell. "Ma´am, are you okay?" he asked.

The woman looked at him square in the eye for a moment or two with a blank face, then smiled. "Of course, sir," she said. "Thank you very much." She leaned down to get her bag.

"Here, let me," Lupin snatched the purse strap and handed it back to the woman. She smiled at him and moved her way up to a higher seat. Lupin settled back down to watch Fleur continue with her dance in the arena.

Meanwhile, the woman did a roundabout turn and descended the steps, as she took the small, automated camera out of her purse. Putting a hand to her ear, she whispered, "Received photo of suspect. Will send to standby for ID confirmation. Over."

"Good work, Jaguar," came the reply.

***

Much to everyone´s dismay, Fleur´s task was coming to an end all too soon. The Welsh Green was easily put to sleep by her charm. Fleur snuck over to the dragon´s clutch of eggs and grabbed at the golden one. Holding it protectively in her arms, she turned around and began heading back. The audience was on the verge of giving uproarious approval at her cunning strategy (especially members of the male persuasion), but since the dragon fell asleep, a silence descended upon the crowd. Everyone had enough sense never to wake a sleeping dragon.

Fleur walked faster, confident that her task was over. However, the dragon suddenly shifted out from behind her, exhaling a puff of black smoke. Enveloped by the dark cloud, the French schoolgirl coughed loudly. At the sudden noise, the dragon moved her head slightly-

The crowd held its breath. Fleur froze in place, a dainty hand over her mouth.

The dragon rolled her head towards her.

Fleur looked back ever so slowly at the sleeping dragon. The beast twitched again. She didn´t dare to move a muscle in response. She paled significantly as the Welsh Green´s reptilian eyelid fluttered. Was she going to wake up? Was Fleur going to get caught? Was she going to face the animal´s rage, caught directly in her line of fire?

Someone from the audience cried up a stifled gasp that was quickly shushed by the rest of the populace. That small sound and the dragon blinked open her eyes-

Fleur had her head bowed and was muttering something under her breath. Her free hand touched her shoulders and forehead, making a shaky Sign of the Cross.

The yellow-gold eyes flickered open and the giant reptile stared directly at Fleur. A moment of silence passed.

No one moved. Not Fleur, not the Welsh Green, not Lupin or any other single audience member.

No one.

Smacking her lips languidly, the dragon luxuriously stretched out her jaws, revealing the rows of sharp, ash-tinged teeth. The yawn of a mighty beast echoed throughout the enclosure. Then, she gave Fleur a sleepy glance, before curling up tightly over the nest and closing her eyes. Soon, only the steady inhale-exhale sound of breathing was heard. The Welsh Green did not awaken.

In relief, Fleur gave an effusive sigh. She wiped a hand across her brow and turned back around.

"Pfffffffzzzzzzzzz..................."

The dragon snored, shooting a jet of fire from her partially opened lips.

"AHHHH!"

Fleur leaped back, the hem of her skirt aflame.

At that same second, the eyes of the Welsh Green snapped open.

"ROOAAAAARRRRRRRR!!!" The Welsh Green lifted its head toward the sky, raising a spurt of flashing red and orange flame that engulfed the sky. In anger, the dragon heaved the burst of flames directly at Fleur.

The girl dropped to the ground as the orange and red blooms flew over her head toward the bleachers behind her. With a quick sweep of her wand, Fleur put the flame out of her skirt with a jet of water and desperately started crawling along the dirt. The dragon charged foreword on gnarled claws, bellowing fiercely.

Bagman, now jerked out of his previous reverie, shouted in warning, "Watch out! Duck your heads!"

The flames couldn´t reach the audience, but a hot wave of air showered the crowd. Some of the lady spectators near the front screamed and several others fainted in their seats. The horizontal wind hit the left set of bleachers and Lupin ducked down in his seat, covering his head with the collar of his robes as the heat passed him. He lifted his head cautiously once the threat was past and put a hand to the top of his head. Safe, but his clothes stank of sulfur and bad breath.

"Oh... nearly got her! Careful now... good lord I thought she had it then!" Ludo exclaimed as the girl made her way on hands and knees away from the thrashing Welsh Green.

The dragon keepers ran into the arena to control the situation. A red-haired man shouted out commands, obviously the leader of this round-up group. "FINITE INFERNO!!!! Stun her!" he shouted, lifting his wand over his head. "Get the cables!"

"Right Charlie!" Another man called and at that moment, several of the dragon keepers flourished their wands and shouted, "Stupefy!"

Both spells hit the beast in succession. The Welsh Green teetered back, weakened by the onslaught of magic. She attempted to rise to her feet to attack the Keepers, but then a glazed look came over her slitted eyes. The dragon wobbled and fell back down.

"That´s it!" yelled Charlie, wand arm still upraised. "One more time!"

Another chorus of shouts from the arena. "STUPEFY!"

At the second hit, the Green Welsh´s eyes rolled upwards and a monstrous groan escaped from her lips. Then, the beast´s fell limply to the ground with a heavy thump, fire extinguished.

The audience was dead silent for a single second, shocked at the sudden turn of events. Yet after that, it rose up like some monolithic mass and screamed out in joy and excitement. Fleur was still on the ground and with trembling legs, rose to her feet.

Madame Maxine, the Beauxbatons headmaster, ran out into the arena over to Fleur, her face the color of parchment. Shouting rapidly in French, the teacher wrapped an arm around the schoolgirl´s shoulders and rushed her out of there.

Still, Ludo showered the girl with praise at her attempt. "What an extraordinary, wonderfully apt way to subdue a dragon!" he cried. "Marvelous charm done by Miss Delacour! I´ve seen techniques like this done by the fire serpent charmers of Northern India, but never used within such parameters!"

The crowd continued their frenzy, the men more so than the women. Even Lupin found himself standing up and applauding. A minority, however were still flustered with the close call involving the dragon, which Charlie and his keepers were now in the middle of restraining. Several medical witches and wizards attended to those spectators who had fainted, equipped smelling salts and Awakening Charms.

"And let´s not forget to take the time to congratulate the unsung heroes of today´s challenge," Ludo added respectfully. "Everyone give a hand to the official Triwizard Tournament Dragon Keepers, straight from Romania, Charlie Weasley and the RMC Dragon Maintenance Crew!"

Charlie waved his wand at the surrounding masses and gave a sweeping bow before helping to haul the now-stunned Welsh Green out of the arena. Out of the corner of his eye, Lupin noticed that Ron was beaming proudly at her older brother, shouting, "Go, Charlie!!"

When Fleur´s scores were presented, the judges did not seem half as critical as they were with Cedric. Two nines and two eights. Fleur´s dance even pleased Karkaroff - a four. At least that was better than Cedric´s score.

The dragon keepers reacted more efficiently to the deserved ovation and sped up their work so that the next task. With proud skill, the keepers herded out the third dragon, the Chinese Fireball. The creature´s shiny, orange-gold scales glittered in the sunlight as the dragon snaked her way into the arena. She circled the arena twice, her large, goggle-eyes absorbing the scene around her.

Getting an eyeful of the creature, everyone anticipated some more dangerous action. Surely this dragon had just as much potential as the Welsh Green - why was it called the Chinese Fireball if this wasn´t so? With eager eyes the people waited for the dragon to do something extravagant, like claim its territory with a mighty roar or even test out its fire capacity with a puff or two.

Yet this creature seemed the most passive out of all the dragons so far. After investigating the boundaries of the enclosure, she simply curled up around the clutch of eggs as if she knew exactly what she had to do. The Chinese Fireball yawned lazily, unhinging those stout jaws to reveal tiny rows of needle teeth. Hissing out a forked tongue, the Chinese Fireball blinked her eyes tiredly. She did not appear to be a formidable challenge.

Nevertheless, Bagman tried to hype up the atmosphere.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" he burst out enthusiastically.

The stern-faced boy stepped out into the arena with a cool, lazy stride. He was the first to acknowledge the crowd and gave a solemn bow to the masses on either side of him. Krum was used to facing challenges with an audience; he was a professional athlete after all. With that ever-constant serious manner, he faced the Chinese Fireball, who didn´t give him an ounce of attention. Krum waited a few minutes like the others had done, then approached the dragon cautiously.

However, the beast´s reaction wasn´t extraordinary. In fact, she was rather docile. The dragon didn´t even become defensive about the intruder´s coming. The Chinese Fireball gave Krum a passing glance before tucking her head into the serpentine coils and closing her eyes. Afterwards, the creature didn´t move at all, except for the rise and fall of her breath. Krum stood there, stunned. He took another step foreword, and then another, trying to stir up some response. Yet the dragon remained immobile on top of the clutch.

The audience murmured to themselves. "It appears that the Fireball isn´t concerned with our champion," Ludo noticed. "Can this fierce creature actually be-?"

A loud snore broke into the air, confirming those thoughts. The Chinese Fireball had entered the enclosure with such high expectations only to fall fast asleep.

A disappointed feeling swept through the audience. After all the excitement with Fleur and the Welsh Green, everyone thought that the Chinese Fireball was going to be ten times worse. Apparently, Krum received the easiest of the four monsters.

Yet Krum barely took a fourth step forward when the Fireball grunted and turned her streamlined head toward him. She emitted a deep growl from the back of her throat and did what no other dragon had done so far: she slithered her way off the nest to face her enemy. With her many legs, the Chinese Fireball moved like a centipede with lightning speed to form a circle around Krum.

"What is this now?" Bagman wondered. "Looks like the Fireball is the one to make the first move."

Krum backed away in surprise at the Fireball´s initiative and found himself with the dragon´s snout in his face. Whirling on his heel, he saw that the dragon had boxed him in, using her long body to set up an enclosure around him.

"The Chinese Fireball is a more forward creature than most," Ludo informed the audience. "Instead of defending the nest, Fireballs are known to outright attack the immediate enemy."

What an opportune time to tell Krum, Lupin thought dryly. He already knew that about the Chinese Fireball, but also knew that these Asian creatures had one disastrous weak spot. The Chinese Fireball´s eyes were extremely sensitive; he wondered if Krum was aware of that as well.

Within the arena, the Fireball moved her head toward Krum, the black smoke curling from her nostrils. Yet Krum stood his ground. The Fireball´s head tilted to the side, blinking those large eyes rapidly in front of Krum. She was so close that Krum´s dark bangs moved every time the dragon took a breath. However, with his usual stolid disposition, Krum did not make a single move. He had a courageous air about him, but most likely he did not want to provoke an attack.

"The Fireball has Mr. Krum completely surrounded," Ludo said in a loud whisper. "What will the Durmstrang challenger do now?"

With her scaly form totally surrounding Krum, the Fireball moved her versatile tail about from behind him back. Krum sensed this and gripped onto his wand tightly. A deep rumble grew from the back of the Chinese Fireball´s throat and quicker than lightning, the beast´s tail whipped forward and wrapped around Krum´s wand arm. Krum cried out as his arm was jerked from behind him.

"Krum is being directly attacked by the Fireball!" Bagman announced. "What a sly creature!"

Krum tried pulling his arm away from the beast, and the Fireball reared her head forward, snapping her jaws. Krum jumped off the ground to avoid the needle teeth, using his trapped arm as a support. The Fireball, however took advantage of this and used his momentum to throw Krum into the air.

Helpless, Krum sky-rocketed ten feet straight up before plummeting toward the ground.

"Krum is launched into the air!" Ludo witnessed. "What a throw by the Fireball....! Wait, Krum waves his wand to check the fall... and he lands unharmed!"

Getting up to his feet, Krum realized that he had landed on the other side of the arena. The Chinese Fireball lifted her head up to give a rueful lizard grin, waving her tail as if saying farewell.

However, the boy did something entirely unexpected. He raised his wand straight ahead of him and in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the stadium, he commanded, "Irritoculus!"

The spell shot out like a bullet and hit the Chinese Fireball straight at those bulging eyes.

"Very daring!" Ludo managed to interject before the dragon screamed.

"ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGG!!!" The Fireball´s head snapped back and forth, the eyes of the beast starting to water large, salty tears. Stomping, her body writhed and shook, the many legs pounding on the ground. Krum dived between those tree-trunk legs and horned feet - one giant foot pounded upon the ground right by Krum´s left arm - Krum was struggling, bolting between the feet of the Fireball to get to the nest - he was moving, moving faster than even Cedric had -

"That´s some nerve he´s showing - and - yes, he´s got the egg!"

Crush!

Krum backed away from the clutch as several eggs were squashed from under the Fireball´s feet. Sticky yellowish goo dripped out of the nest and onto the ground. The dragon didn´t pay heed to the mess on her talons; she was still shaking her head, sniffing grievously.

"Krum is going to lose points for that!" Bagman said as the Chinese Fireball stumbled in a different direction, wailing in a pitiful voice. Charlie and another dragon keeper reined in the sad creature, cooing softly as the beast continued her crying.

"And nice work for Viktor Krum, Durmstrang champion!" Ludo ended cheerfully. "Now let´s hear the scores!"

***

Croaker held the stiff piece of parchment in his fist. The sighting had been confirmed. Yes, it was a registered werewolf. Jarohnen Ianikit, last remaining member of the northern Russian clan, number 176. Only remaining survivor of clan genocide.

"ARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGG!!!"

Croaker´s head snapped up to see the Chinese Fireball bay out in pain.

Dumb arrogant creature. Croaker had worked in the RMC during his early years with dragons in China - those brutes always acted like big shots but were truly crybabies at heart.

He then turned back to the paper at hand. Why would the werewolf have any interest in wizard event? These creatures usually shied away from contact with wizards of any kind, unless it was to initiate a violent attack. It was a known fact that werewolves lived to rampage and kill. They were not even human anyway; they were beasts.

Croaker put a hand to his ear. "Jaguar?"

"Here."

"Take my place at station two. I want to keep tabs on our werewolf."

"Check that, Croaker. Over and out."

***

The judges´ scores were rather high, maybe because Karkaroff gave his challenger a decent score. Obviously a sign of favoritism, but no one commented about that. Except Bagman of course.

"Karkaroff gave Krum a nine - he must be very impressed," the announcer said shortly, trying to cover up the bitterness in his voice. Bagman himself had given Krum a seven. Yet Krum was put in the lead with a total of forty points.

Concern about the scores went entirely over Lupin´s head. All he could think about was the fact that the other challengers´ tasks were over. Harry was next. He half-got up from his seat to look at the yellow tent over near the enclosure entrance. There was a light in the tent, revealing a single pacing silhouette. Poor boy.

Lupin shook his head. Harry can do it, of course. He was James´ son; he had to. On the other hand, there was possibly a saboteur here on Hogwarts´ grounds. But even if there was someone after Harry, he probably already accomplished the feat of treachery. After all, Harry was left with the most ferocious dragon of them all: the Hungarian Horntail. With a vicious tempter, the strongest fire-breathing capabilities and a tail covered with massive, three-foot spikes, it was the worst of the lot.

Maybe Sirius was only trying to tell Harry how to defeat the Horntail. It must have been a reasonable fear Black had for the boy wizard. There were certain maneuvers that could conquer the dragon. Distracting it would be the most ideal way; that was what Cedric had attempted earlier with the Labrador. But would Harry know what to do?

Lupin checked his watch. In the field, the dragon keepers were still cleaning up the broken eggs and replacing them with new ones. There was a good five minutes, he reasoned, before Harry´s challenge begins. So there was still time, if Lupin hurried. Maybe he could reach the tent, get past the guards, talk to Harry quickly; Harry didn´t have to know it was him, and surely he would take his advice-

The idea died in a second. Too idealistic. Lupin saw the tight security measures around the Champions´ tent and he knew well that he couldn´t risk it. But, suppose he did....

Dear God, was he actually feeling nervous for the boy? Yes.

Yet what Lupin had to tell Harry afterwards caused the most apprehension. Sirius.... God, Lupin didn´t even want to think about it. If he could, he would make he way himself to Azkaban to free his friend, but now may be too late. Lupin sighed and put his head in his hands, running them through Jarohnen´s white hair.

Three rows above him, a man wearing black and grey robes sat down and folded his hands in his lap. He peered down at the suspect through hooded eyes. Just wait, Croaker coached himself, and let the werewolf make the first move.

Overhead, Ludo´s voice rang out excitedly. "And now, here comes the young man we´ve all been waiting for!"

Everyone calmed down from the thrill of Krum´s performance and eagerly settled in their seats. Lupin scanned the crowds again. On either side of him was a sea of still, expectant faces. Half a row away, Ron and Hermione glanced up from their conversation at Ludo´s call. Ron was tight-lipped and silent, turning away from the arena, arms crossed. Hermione, however, whispered something to him in a frustrated tone and leaned foreword, a pair of Omniculars to her eyes. Certainly past three challengers were exciting to say the least, but the most anticipated part of the First Task was just about to begin. Those two were just as worried about Harry as Lupin was.

In the booth, Bagman was practically jumping out of his chair, hardly able to contain his excitement. "Last, but certainly not least, the second champion from Hogwarts - the unexpected fourth contestant in this Triwizard Tournament - the one and only - Harry Potter!"