The Pentawizard Tournament Chapter Nineteen: All's Fair in Love and War | Fandom (2024)

Link to previous chapter: https://theowlhouse.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000000192961

Link to chapter one: https://theowlhouse.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000000189445

Emira’s finger twirled in the air, the familiar movement tracing a blue ring in its wake.

“Avius” she recited, and the guinea pig she had been practicing on became a guinea fowl right before her eyes.

“Yes!” Emira squealed, practically jumping from excitement.

“Good job, twin sister,” Edric’s voice called, his guinea pig still sitting very non-avian on his desk.

“Avius” he stated. The rodent sprouted feathers and a beak, its front legs became wings, and it grew several sizes.

“Yes!” Fred shouted.

“Good job to both of you!” George added, his red hair dancing from the open window like flames on a log.

“Hey, you’ve taught us so much Human magic,” Emira started, glancing at Ed to make sure they were on the same wavelength.

“What would you say if we returned the favor,” Edric finished.

“Like, us learning Witch magic?” Fred asked, “Blimey, that sounds brilliant!”

“We’d love to learn some of your tricks!” George said.

“Well,” Emira started, she was definitely the better teacher out of the Blight twins, “What kind of magic do you want to start with? Illusions? Or perhaps Healing?”

“Or maybe Beast Keeping or Potions?” Edric interjected.

“Nah, definitely not potions, we get enough of that from Snape,” Fred answered.

“But maybe illusions, that ought to make some great pranks!” George added, “But with how much we injure ourselves, I feel like Madam Pomfrey would kill for us to learn some healing magic,”

“And that’s saying a lot, I’m pretty sure she’s a staunch pacifist,” Fred concluded. The two Weasleys then sat there, debating between Healing and Illusions.

“We could teach you both,” Emira offered, “Of course, my brother hasn’t taken any healing track classes, but I have. And we’re both master illusionists.”

“That should work!” Fred said, ending the small debate.

Emira took a deep breath, “Well, let’s start with illusions. There are three main kinds of illusions: Concealments, Creations, and Coverings. First are concealments, these are the most basic illusions. A concealment illusion, well, conceals an object or person, making it invisible. Since they’re the most basic illusions, this is what we teach beginning illusion students when they pick the illusion track, traditionally at the start of the sixth grade.

“Next are creations, these are a bit harder to do. A creation illusion creates a vision of an object or person. Be warned, they aren’t real, and if a real object or person makes contact with a creation, it fades immediately. Since these are a bit harder, they typically get taught to intermediate illusionists, around ninth grade if I remember correctly.

“Finally are coverings. These are the hardest illusions to do, even at a small scale, at least out of what they teach you in school, there are harder kinds of illusions with niche use cases, but those are outside of the curriculum. Covering illusions are a bit of a combination of concealments and creations, it’s where you make an object look like something else. We only just recently started covering those in our advanced illusion classes, so I don’t think we’ll get to those anytime soon.”

Fred and George had both gotten a pen and paper out and had been taking careful notes.

“Need me to repeat anything?” She asked once they finished writing.

“Yeah, what was that bit about creations and other objects?” George asked, “I didn’t quite catch it.”

Emira gladly answered the handsome wizard’s question, “If a creation makes contact with a physical object, the object is unaffected, and the creation dissolves into a small cloud of blue magic.”

George jotted that down, muttering “Illusions… can’t… touch…. stuff…”

He lifted his head, showing his preparation for more content. Fred followed suit quickly.

“When making an illusion, you have to remember the three Ds, definition, deliberation, and deception. Definition - you have to keep a clear, definite image of what you want to happen, otherwise the spell won’t know what to do. Deliberation - you can’t just imagine it, you have to focus, deliberate, on what you’re doing.” Emira continued, hoping her twin would pick up the lecture soon, her vocal chords were not used to this much talking. The Weasleys wrote down her every word, George with extra enthusiasm.

“And lastly, but certainly not least,” Edric finally picked up, “Is deception - since Illusions are all about making the world seem different from what’s really there, you need that intent to deceive everyone around you.”

“How about you two give it a try?” Emira offered. The red-headed twins agreed and drew their wands.

“Let’s start with a basic illusion,” Edric said, finally taking over the lecture, “Try making this pencil invisible,” He pulled a pencil out from his pocket, and held it in front of the Weasleys.

“Err, what incantation do we use?” Fred asked.

“Boiling Isles magic doesn’t use incantations,” Edric said.

George twirled his wand in the air, but nothing happened. Fred tried as well, to similar results.

Fred and George took turns trying to make the pencil invisible. After several attempts, George managed to make the pencil jump out of Edric’s hand, but it still was clearly very yellow on the floor, not the slightest bit transparent.

Fred groaned in frustration.

“It’s okay,” Edric comforted, “Most people do much worse than this on their first try.”

“If I remember correctly, you couldn’t properly conceal so much as a thumbtack until almost the end of seventh grade. If you hadn’t gotten that by the end of the year, Odalia was going to make you change to the Abomination track with Mittens. Luckily for both of you, you figured it out eventually, and Mittens is a prodigy at Abominations.”

“Emira!” Ed whined, “Did you have to mention that in front of them? Now Fred will never think I’m cool!”

“What, do you mean me?” Fred asked, “Well, bloody hell, of course I think you’re cool! Look at you! You two are naturals at Transfiguration! And you are studying that and all of your Hexside courses! Plus, you’re bloody handsome, and a hell of a prankster. You two are the coolest people I ever met. And that’s saying something, ickle Ronnykins is best friends with Harry freaking Potter.”

George beamed in agreement. “Not to mention, you two were part of a resistance group to defeat a fascist who reminds me of an inverse you-know-who, wanting to genocide magic-kind and all.”

“And clearly, this stuff isn’t easy, just look at how much we’re struggling with it!” Fred added. That seemed to cheer up Emira’s brother.

The lesson continued for some time, and both Humans failed to make the pencil fully invisible by the end of the lesson, though Emira was pretty sure she saw it fade a bit on one of George’s last attempts. That might have been wishful thinking though.

As March approached, the weather became drier, but fierce winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went onto the grounds. There were delays in receiving the mail because the owls kept getting blown off course. The brown owl Harry had sent to Sirius with the dates for the next Hogsmeade weekend arrived at breakfast one Friday morning with half of its feathers sticking up the wrong way. Harry had no sooner taken the letter from it than it took flight, clearly not wanting to go back out there to deliver more mail.

Sirius’ letter was almost as short as his previous one.

Be at the stile at the end of the road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o’clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.

“He hasn’t come back to Hogsmeade, has he?” Ron said incredulously.

“It looks like it,” Hermione said.

“I can’t believe him,” Harry tensely stated, “If he’s caught…”

“He’s made it this far, hasn’t he?” Ron said, “And unlike last year, this place isn’t crawling with Dementors out for his soul,”

Harry folded up the letter. Harry really wanted to see his godfather again, so the idea of doing just that made his final class that day, double potions, seem much more tolerable than normal.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were huddled outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson’s gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Harry couldn’t see and were snigg*ring heartily.

“There they are, there they are!” Pansy giggled when she saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione approaching. The knot of Slytherins broke apart, and Harry saw that Pansy had a Witch Weekly magazine in her hands.

“You might find something interesting in there, Granger!” Pansy shouted, throwing the magazine at Hermione. At that moment, the door to the dungeon opened, and Snape beckoned them inside.

The trio went for a table at the back of the classroom as usual. Once Snape turned his back to write potion ingredients on the blackboard, Hermione hastily opened the magazine and found near the middle of the booklet the article the Slytherins must have been laughing at.

Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache

A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought that he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch World Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to stay with him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it may not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate young boys' interests.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.

“I told you not to annoy that Skeeter woman!” Ron hissed. “She’s made you out to be some sort of scarlet woman!”

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. “Scarlet woman?” She repeated, barely stopping herself from exploding into laughter.

“That’s what my mum calls them…” Ron muttered, his ears turning as red as his hair.

“If that’s the best Skeeter can do, she’s losing her touch,” Hermione snorted as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her, “What a load of rubbish,”

The Slytherins were caught staring at the trio. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave. The three of them started to unpack the ingredients they needed for their potion.

“There is something funny though,” Hermione said ten minutes later, holding her pestle over a bowl of scarab beetles. “How could Rita Skeeter have known…?”

“Known what?” Ron inquired, “You haven’t been making Love Potions, have you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Hermione snapped, pounding her beetles, “It’s just… how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?”

She blushed scarlet as she did this, avoiding Ron’s eyes determinedly.

“What?” Ron asked.

“He asked me right after he’d pulled me out of the lake,” Hermione muttered, “After he got rid of his shark head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he pulled me away so no one would hear, and then he asked me. He did say that he hasn’t felt the same way about anyone else,” Hermione went on, becoming so red even Amity would be impressed, “but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn’t there, or was she? Maybe she has an Invisibility Cloak and snuck onto the grounds to see the second task.”

“Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger,” an icy voice said right behind them, “I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“Ah, reading magazines as well?” He added, “Another ten points from Gryffindor I’m afraid.” Snape’s obsidian eyes fell on Rita Skeeter’s article, “Oh but of course, Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings.”

The dungeon was filled with the mocking laughs of the Slytherins. To Harry’s fury, Snape began to read the article aloud.

“Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache, oh, dear, what’s ailing you now, Potter?” He mocked.

Harry could feel his face burning. Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. As bad as it was in ink, it sounded ten times worse in Snape’s cruel voice.

Snape separated the trio, and forced Harry to the front of the room, so as to allow Snape to mock him from the comfort of his blackboard. Harry did his best to ignore him but snapped when he mentioned breaking into his office.

“I haven’t been anywhere near your office!” He shouted, ignoring the events barely a week prior.

“Don’t lie to me, Potter!” Snape spat, “Boomslang skin, Gillyweed. Both came from my private stores, and I know who stole them.”

Harry stared directly back into Snape’s eyes. In truth, he had only stolen the Gillyweed, but the Boomslang skin had been taken by Hermione in their second year for the Polyjuice Potion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry lied coldly.

“You were out of bed the night my office was broken into!” Snape hissed, “I know it, Potter! Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your little fan club, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more night-time stroll into my office, and I will personally ensure you never step foot into this castle again!”

“Right,” Harry said coolly, turning to cut his ginger roots, “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever feel like going there,”

Snape’s eyes flashed, and he reached into his pocket. Harry was sure that Snape was about to pull out his wand and curse him, but instead, he pulled out a small vial of a completely clear potion.

“Do you know what this is, Potter?”

“No,” Harry said truthfully.

“This is Veritaserum, a Truth potion so powerful that just three drops would have you spilling your deepest secrets for this entire dungeon to hear,” Snape said viciously, “And unless you watch your step, my hand might just slip,” He shook the bottle slightly, “Right over your evening Pumpkin Juice.”

Harry said nothing, he turned back to his ginger roots once more, trying to ignore Snape’s hollow threats.

There was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” Snape said in his usual voice.

Professor Karkaroff entered and marched straight toward the potions master.

“We need to talk,” Karkaroff said abruptly.

“We can talk after class,” Snape muttered.

“We need to talk now, so you can’t just slip away again.”

“After. The. Lesson”

Karkaroff stayed in the classroom, ensuring Snape couldn’t escape, for the rest of the lesson.

“What is so urgent anyway?” Snape whispered after the bell rang.

“This” Karkaroff said, pulling up his sleeve, “It hasn’t been this clear since-”

“Put it away!” Snarled Snape.

“But you must have noticed!”

“We can talk later,” Snape spat. Harry tried to sneak a glance at Karkaroff’s lower arm, but he fell out of his chair.

“Potter!” Snape yelled, “What are you doing?”

“I was trying to clean up my armadillo bile, sir,” Harry defended innocently.

“And so, you fell out of your chair,” He said under his breath, not buying a word of it. Karkaroff turned and strode out of the dungeon.

Harry, not wanting to stay alone in a room with an angry Snape, grabbed his backpack and left as quickly as he could.