Outside Hogwarts, the darkened sky tore open in a breathtaking cascade of enchanted fireworks as midnight struck, the Yule Ball having long since shed any pretense of being a mere ball and become a full blown celebration. The heavens blazed with spellborn light, a fitting finale to such an extravagant night. It was, absolutely, not Maverick's doing.
The spectacle drew even the villagers of Hogsmeade from their homes, eyes wide with awe as an unbelievable light show flared across the distant horizon. They gathered close against the cold, watching in silent wonder as snowflakes danced around them like glittering diamonds on the wind.
Laughter rang out and music carried on the air, joined by delighted screams that echoed across the Hogwarts grounds, a final chorus of celebration before winter's deeper cold took hold. It was a night of magic and careless joy, perhaps the last of its kind before the long winter closed its grasp around their world.
It was already past four in the morning by the time the party finally ended and the last student staggered back to their dormitories. Perhaps because the school was technically closed for the holidays, even McGonagall found no fault in letting the celebration run so late.
The morning after, the Great Hall stood once more in its familiar arrangement, four long tables for the students and one for the staff, the seats nearly full. Despite the late hour at which most had finally turned in, the students were even more eager to depart and catch the Hogwarts Express after breakfast. The journey was long anyways, and there would be plenty of time to sleep along the way.
The school administration offered no grand speech during breakfast either, as it had already been delivered at the official year end feast a few days earlier. Dumbledore merely wished everyone to take care.
And by ten o'clock, nearly everyone was on their way to catch the Hogwarts Express, suitcases in hand. From the two delegations as well, apart from their champions and two teammates, no one else stayed behind. After another thrilling year of magic, the school was finally allowed a moment to catch its breath.
As for why the champions had all decided to stay behind, it was likely because none of them had yet uncovered anything substantial from the so called clue that was the golden egg they carried. And unlike the first task, unfortunately for them, no professor was giving out random hints this time, and they were entirely on their own.
---
A few days later, London.
The wind howled through the streets, snowflakes swirling in the yellow light of lampposts lining the city sidewalks. There, in front of a grand stone building with tall columns and glowing windows that spoke of old wealth and quiet luxury, Sirius Black stood with his best friend beside him, surveying the otherwise unremarkable Muggle surroundings.
"Moony, are you sure this is the right place?" he asked, doubt creeping into his typically confident voice as he pulled his coat tighter around himself to ward off the freezing chill.
"Ritz London… it's definitely the right place," Lupin replied, beckoning Sirius to follow.
"I only see Muggles here…"
"That's because this is a Muggle hotel, Padfoot."
They went inside, and were immediately met with warmth and soft golden light. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and expensive perfume. Plush carpets muffled footsteps, chandeliers glittered overhead, and quiet conversations blended with the gentle clink of cutlery and glasses. Everything felt calm, and entirely oblivious to magic.
"It's so quiet… nothing like old Tom's pub."
"Does this place look like a pub to you?" Lupin couldn't help rolling his eyes as he walked ahead. "Come on… we're supposed to go to the fourth floor."
Ding.
"You really should get out more, Padfoot. Explore the Muggle world. It's a lot livelier than we were led to believe."
"So you keep telling me."
They stepped into the elevator, and moments later arrived at their destination, only to find that unlike the floors below, this one was empty. Well, not entirely. At a table set near the window, a group of people were already seated, faces they recognized.
"Bonesy… you're here too?" Sirius exclaimed, a little surprised as he walked up to the table.
"That's Lady Bones to you, Lord Black. Have some manners. This is a formal meeting," Amelia Bones said, rolling her eyes as she beckoned the two of them to sit.
To her left sat Rufus Scrimgeour and Kingsley Shacklebolt. On the other side were the Minister for Magic himself and Alastor Moody. A few more chairs remained vacant, presumably for others yet to arrive.
"Where's the boss man? Who else is coming?"
"Show some respect, Lord Black. The leader is not some random wizard you can simply address as a mere boss," Jamison Greengrass rebutted, clearly dissatisfied with Sirius's nonchalant attitude toward Maverick. Out of everyone present, he was perhaps the most devoted follower of Maverick, and he found it difficult to stomach someone speaking of him so casually.
"Just forget it, Minister. Not even Azkaban managed to rein in that gross mouth of his," Amelia said giving Sirius a glare.
"Any other man would have lost his mind in ten years, which makes me curious." Moody leaned forward, his one eye locking onto Sirius. "Was it really that Animagus form of yours alone that kept you sane in there?"
"You're welcome to find out for yourself, Mad-Eye. I'm sure booking a room in Azkaban wouldn't be much trouble for you."
Moody huffed and leaned back. Clearly, there was no winning over that smooth mouthed menace of his. He grabbed a piece of hummus from the plate in front of him and cast the room another wary glance, his magical eyes darting like a camera struggling to focus.
"I really don't understand why we had to choose a Muggle hotel as the venue. Sometimes I really want to crack that kid's head open just to see how his mind works."
"Right? Mad-Eye, that's something we agree on—"
And just then, the elevator bell rang again, drawing everyone's attention as the doors slid open to reveal four figures stepping into the room. Maverick entered first, his long coat fluttering as he walked leisurely ahead of Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick, all dressed in proper Muggle attire.
"You're free to try opening my head, Mr Alastor, of course, if you have the ability," Maverick said with a smile. He paused briefly before taking his place at the head of the table, while his Hogwarts colleagues settled in around him, exchanging quiet greetings.
"Anyways, thank you, gentlemen and ladies, for taking time out of this holiday period to attend this meeting."
They began with polite small talk as wine was poured and the first courses were served. Time slipped by, and nearly half an hour later the waiters returned with the main course, setting the plates down before withdrawing and leaving the floor entirely to them.
"Business, then. Minister, why don't you begin," Maverick said, turning his attention to Jamison. "Anything to note from your end?"
Jamison cleared his throat, knowing the serious discussion had begun. "The transition has been smooth. No resistance worth mentioning. Every department head has been replaced with someone we trust." He glanced around the table, eyes briefly meeting those of Moody, Amelia, Scrimgeour, and Kingsley.
"We're hiring and training new recruits every day. By the time it matters, we'll have more than enough personnel to handle damage control and public safety."
"And is anyone raising questions about the sudden increase in Ministry hiring?"
"If anything, it only fattens his record," Moody cut in. "Who doesn't love a Minister who hands out jobs, right?" There was a bite of sarcasm in his tone, though no one seemed to care.
"Makes you wonder if," he continued, "once this is over, you'll start sacking people in batches. Anyway, not my problem."
"If you have a problem with me, just say so, Alastor." Jamison met his glare head on, then addressed Maverick instead. "What Alastor said will not come to that, of course. The Ministry has more than enough funds to accommodate increased spending on its subjects."
"I'm sure you can do a fine job leading this country's magical administration." Maverick made no effort to intervene in the exchange between Moody and Greengrass. That was simply Moody's nature. If nothing else, suspicion lived in his bones. Beyond that, he was perfectly manageable for a cyclops.
"Rufus, Amelia, anything to add?" Maverick then turned his attention to Jamison's other colleagues as he sliced into the steak before him.
"Well," Scrimgeour said after a moment's thought, "last month, we carried out drills with the people sent by Speaker Garling. Of course, on paper, they were practice exercises. The overall performance went well, and with a bit more training, our own teams can be just as good."
Maverick did not bother to correct the old man, offering only a nod in response. There was no way that, in just a few months, or even years, the Aurors of this country could match the skill and coordination of his teachers' elites.
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement, along with the special Auror units under Alastor and myself, is in the best shape it has ever been since I joined the Ministry," Amelia Bones continued next. "Under Minister Greengrass's administration, it will only improve. And as Mr Scrimgeour said, when the time comes, we'll be ready."
For a moment, if one were unfamiliar with Amelia's character, it might seem as though she was currying favor with her superior. But she really meant what she just said.
And regardless of whether Maverick's hands were involved in certain matters, she knew that at least within the Ministry, corruption had changed. Where it had once been blatant in the upper echelons, there was now almost none.
That said, she also knew Greengrass was no saint. If he were, this very meeting, one where the country's head of magical government bowed so readily to another, would never have taken place.
"Wonderful," Maverick nodded approvingly. He lifted his wine, swirled it once, took a measured sip, then turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, in your opinion, is there anything we should be paying particular attention to at Hogwarts or with the Tournament as we move into the early part of next year?"
"Hm," Dumbledore mused, eyes twinkling faintly. "For the next term at Hogwarts, particularly in its opening months, I foresee nothing especially alarming. Nevertheless, Minister, I would very much appreciate additional Auror patrols about the grounds. When dealing with Tom, caution has a habit of proving its worth."
"Any chance he could still slip into the castle, even with all of us watching?" Moody asked.
"Unless we allow it deliberately, it should not be possible," McGonagall replied instead. "The castle wards have been at their highest alert since the start of the academic year. With Headmaster Dumbledore, Maverick, and Olympe Maxime present for most of the time, infiltration would be nearly impossible."
"Which is where you come in, Mr Black," Maverick cut in, gesturing to Sirius, who was currently enjoying a piece of steaming turkey.
"Me… aren't I only a decoy?" Sirius asked thoughtfully.
"You are. So how sure are you that you can pull it off?"
Sirius finished swallowing before speaking. "Don't worry. Unless someone uses some powerful revealing magic, not even my godson's closest friends will be able to tell."
"That's good," Maverick inclined his head. "You should head to Hogwarts after this. Spend the holidays with them, observe Harry's behavior around his friends, and perhaps... help out with their current little predicament." He then turned to Dumbledore. "Will that be a problem, Headmaster?"
"I suppose not," Dumbledore said, glancing toward McGonagall. "Minerva?"
"Training from a third party other than a professor isn't against the rules for the second round," she said. "However, you must not interfere with their efforts to uncover the golden egg's secret. That must be done by them alone."
"Is Mr Potter aware already… that he's to be, you know, kidnapped?" Moody asked suddenly.
"Not yet," Maverick replied. "But I'll speak to him before school resumes. The boy's smart and knows how to keep quiet."
"If anything," Flitwick added, "I'd say he'd be thrilled. Being at the center of all this, knowing he isn't really in danger. The Gryffindor in him would love it."
"What about Lucius? Any word on Riddle's movements?" the half man inquired.
"Right, Voldemort's supposed spy," Maverick said. "To portkey Harry Potter without alarming the audience, Lord Malfoy will need to infiltrate the security team during the Third Task." He turned to Moody, then to Jamison. "He'll use Polyjuice to replace one of the Aurors on duty. I need everything arranged so there won't be any noise."
"So we conveniently let the Death Eater infiltrate, eh?"
"He's my person, Alastor. Lucius won't have any problems."
Maverick then turned to Sirius. "Mr Black, you'll also need to cooperate closely with them. You'll replace Harry and play your role convincingly. The Tournament must conclude, at least publicly, without any ruckus."
Sirius hesitated. "You're certain my godson won't be in danger?"
"Harry will be under constant watch, Sirius," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Between myself, Olympe, Maverick, Garling, Minerva, Flitwick, and others whose presence need not be advertised, he will be well protected."
"I hope so," Sirius said with a sigh. "With that kind of lineup, I suppose there's no reason to worry." He nodded once more. "I'll do my part."
"Good," Maverick said. "Now let's go over manpower allocation across the city of London when the operation begins. Mr Scrimgeour, if you would."
The meeting dragged on for hours, each detail of the grand finale of Maverick's plan to reveal magic to the world examined in turn. Time was running short, less than half a year remained before everything began, and as the moment approached, gatherings like this would only grow more frequent.
---
As the New Year passed over Hogwarts, winter settled deeper into the land. Snow lay thick across the grounds, clinging to towers and rooftops alike, while icy winds swept through the empty courtyards. The castle stood quiet and watchful beneath heavy grey skies, its ancient stones enduring the cold in solemn silence.
One evening, just as the clock struck eight, Harry pushed open the door to the Alchemy professor's office, answering a last minute Patronus he had just received requesting a meeting. Hermione and Ron were not with him this time, because for this particular conversation, only Harry's, and Harry's ears alone were needed.
"Take a seat," Maverick said from behind his desk, eyes buried in a book. Lesson plans for the upcoming semester lay scattered nearby, and since he was already back at the school, even if only for a short while, he thought he might as well get some official work done.
"Professor, I thought you weren't at school," Harry said as he sat.
"I wasn't. I came back only a few hours ago, specifically to have a chat with you."
"Oh… okay. Is this about the second task?"
"No. Though while we're on the subject, how are you getting on with the mystery of the golden egg?"
Harry beamed at the question. A few days ago, he and his friends had finally managed to solve the mystery behind the stupid egg and now had a general idea of what the second task would involve. "We already figured it out," he said enthusiastically. "Took a bit of trouble…"
He paused as an unpleasant memory surfaced, then shook his head and continued, only for Maverick to raise a hand, stopping him.
"You don't need to tell me. Unlike you, who only has a clue, I know exactly what the second task is. So as long as you understand the hint, that's enough. Remember, professors aren't allowed to assist with the second task."
"Oh," Harry slumped slightly. "Okay then."
"Right, then, about why you're here," Maverick continued. "Do you remember the conversation we had last year in this very office… you, me, and your godfather?"
"Last year…" Harry murmured, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. Then he nodded, his mood suddenly brightening… oddly. "Is it about getting rid of Voldemort?"
"Hmm, more or less," Maverick said after a brief pause. "So it's time you heard what role you'll be playing in all of this."
"Brilliant!"
Half an hour later, Harry nodded firmly for what felt like the umpteenth time since he had arrived that night. "—you can absolutely count on me, Professor."
Some more time passed as Maverick went over the remaining details with the boy. When Harry finally left, he leaned back and let out a slow breath, then stood from the high backed chair again and walked to the window. Outside, it was pitch black, yet snow could still be seen falling relentlessly, as though it had no intention of stopping anytime soon.
A frown creased his brow as he turned things over in his mind, an inexplicable unease settling within him. Something felt off, yet for the life of him, he couldn't place it.
Or perhaps, he thought, he was simply overthinking things. With another quiet sigh, he returned to his desk and reopened his book, pushing the thought aside and getting back to work.
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