(Enchanting Melodies) Chapter 204: Declared Thrice (Patreon)

Chapter 204: Declared Thrice

16 April 1994, Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry sat in the shade of the Black Lake with one of his palms looking at the sky. Floating on top of it was a golden magical circle, which controlled a pebble in front of him, making it move around in the air in seemingly random directions. Well, technically the pebble wasn’t really moving, it was space that was being bent and stretch, causing the pebble to have the illusion of moving.

It was the best he had gotten with his space manipulation. Oh, of course, he could do things on much bigger scales, but he had reached a plateau of some sort about what he could do with it. He was able to stretch space and compress it with a single thought. He could mimic gravity, modify it as much as he wanted, but he could not go any further. His dreams of creating portals seemed to be beyond him. After a certain point, space just did not like being molded, and it lashed back. The energy required to do grew exponentially and it reached a point where, according to his calculations, not even a horde of dragons would have enough magic to push the spell further.

And it wasn’t like he was only stuck in his space manipulation. He had found no new lead about magic involving multiple dimensions in months. Hell, he even tried to look at time magic, hoping to combine it with his space magic to see what would happen.

Unfortunately, time magic was field of magic that’s been theorized about, and often treated like a joke by researchers. After thousands of years of dedication, wizards have decided that actively manipulating time with magic was a dead end. It was impossible to go back in time or to jump forwards for that matter. There was some excitement after the theory of relativity was discovered almost a century ago, but all they were able to glean was that theoretically time could be stretched, but they could not really see any uses for it, since the energy requirements were massive for something that other spells could mimic without any temporal magics.

This all came as a surprise to Harry who knew that time turners existed. He couldn’t find an exact way they worked, only some basic theory work by a wizard that was obviously conscripted into the Department of Mysteries.

Apparently, time turners operate on a mix of divination and projection. Every grain of sand in the artifact remembered states of matter of the user at a different moment in time, acting like an anchor. The maximum a person could ‘go back’ was the latest state of the user in a grain. Yet, the sand could also divine when it would be used in the future somehow. The author did not say how it worked, and Harry did not have any samples on hand to make deductions or analyze it. He didn’t think that the Department of Mysteries would let him borrow one either.

Anyway, the artifact created an independent physical projection creating the illusion of time travel and rejoining each other with their memories seamlessly when it is used in the future. It was a dirty trick, but it seemed to work. There were many holes in that theory, probably ones that the research who probably became an Unspeakable fixed decades back. Without any access to the sand, there was nothing Harry could do anyway.

He was at a dead end in every interesting project he took on, something that really grated at him. If there was something Harry hated the most, it would be a lack of progress. How did other people handle getting stuck with a problem with no way to solve? How did people handle knowing that it should be possible in some way, that the answer had to be close, yet have no idea, nonetheless?

Harry’s inner rant was interrupted by a slight tap to the back of the head, “Stop complaining inside your head. You agreed to relax for a couple of hours a day with me. Overthinking things in your head is not relaxing Harry!”

In the privacy of his mind, Harry regretted agreeing to Daphne’s suggestion about leaving more time to relax. They had been slightly for a few days after their deep conversation. The blonde had said some things that he did not want to hear, truthful things. Her words still haunted him in his sleep. Was he really going from one crisis to another, actively chasing them down? He’d always said that he wanted a quiet life to study magic, to not interfere with the politics and plots of magical Britain. She was right in saying that he could have changed schools. It was obvious now that he thought about it, staying anywhere near Dumbledore was a bad, anyone could see that. The fact that Daphne would follow his lead made it a real option. Yet the thought made his uneasy.

He didn’t want to think about leaving, and for some reason, he felt guilty about this fact. Maybe it was because he was putting Daphne at risk by staying here with her, he didn’t know. He didn’t even know why he wanted to stay. All the excuses just felt hollow when he said them out loud.

It was obvious that the entire thing was distressing him, and Daphne had seen it, and wrangled a promise out of him to spend at least a couple of hours relaxing, hours that she would supervise.

Every day, they went down to the Black Lake, lied down in the shade of a giant yew tree, before dinner and just hung out, watching the sunset together. This place had quickly become one of Harry’s favorites in the castle. He instinctively learned at death.

“Fine, Daph. Who knew you could be such a taskmaster?”

The blonde snorted, “I learned from the best. Or maybe that’s just some resentment for all those months of training. If there’s something nice about the whole mystery task. At least we won’t have to deal with your hellish training.”

“Hey,” he protested, “You’re the ones who wanted my hellish training.”

“We didn’t know any better,” she giggled, “Still, I can’t help but feel that the stakes for the Slytherins are a bit low, to be honest.”

“Why is that?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, we’ve already proved to everyone that we’re the most skilled house. Think about it. In the first task, we dominated our year and got the highest positions. You, a Slytherin even won the task. In the second one, we were the students in our year to get the furthest in the tournament. Hell, Farley even won the entire thing. And since the Court agreed to announce the memberships and promotions on the day before the task, we don’t really have a reason to win, outside of the gold prize, and maybe the grades. We don’t even need the house points anymore since we pretty much won the cup.”

“I suppose you are right. So, you decided to join the Court?”

The blonde released a deep sigh, “Do I detect a note of judgement in your voice?”

“Not really. It’s your life and your decisions. I’m just curious about your reasoning.”

“The connections I will make could help me help my sister. Members of the Court sort of keep in touch after graduation, like some kind of fancy club meeting once a year, so they could help.”

Harry frowned, “You’re not telling me everything… Helping Astoria is part of the reason you accepted, the part that you want to tell yourself, but there’s something more…”

“Fine!” She exclaimed, “My father agreed to let me continue my wish of becoming a healer in exchange for joining the Court. Alright?”

“That’s fine,” Harry calmly responded, “It’s a sad move from your father, but I don’t see why you’re so ashamed of it.”

She looked away from him and answered in a small voice, “You never let people make your decisions for you. You never let anyone tell you what to do. I thought…”

“You thought I would look down on you? Don’t be silly. There’s a difference between obeying your parent and letting people walk over you. Daph, I don’t know anything about your father, but asking you to join a school club which would probably help with the family business is not a bad thing. The Blackmail thing was scummy, but he probably only did it when you kept refusing him. It was a shitty thing to happen to you, but I can’t really judge you for it. Our situation is just different.”

Daphne did not respond and just kept looking at the lake. After what felt like ten minutes, she chose to change the conversation, “Did you know that Lavender is trying to use the Art of Divination to see if she can discover what the judges have planned in the last task? She kept bragging about it to the other girl in Herbology…”

Harry couldn’t help but snicker at the thought, “We haven’t even been taught anything that might help even if she was some kind of insane seer. I don’t think that there’s a way to actively try to see something as detailed in the task. Divination tends to be very vague, and visions are often metaphors instead of exact details of what would happen.”

“I was trying to make a joke, Harry. You didn’t have to overanalyze it. It was obvious that she was making it all up. I suppose we’ll see in the feast later.”

“Speaking of the feast, we should get going. I don’t want to listen to Tracy complain about us being late again…”

Daphne huffed and stood up. They both walked side by side near the castle, the sun setting behind them. Mcgonagall announced during Breakfast that there would be a feast that night, and that the headmaster had something to announce to the student body. Considering how close the final task of the tournament was, the headmaster was probably going to share a few details about it.

Honestly, it would have been a nightmare for Dumbledore to keep a task completely secret. Students needed to know what to bring, the basic rules of the task… The tournament organizers and ticket sellers needed to arrange for a way for the audience to attend and be able to spectate the task. The whole thing wouldn’t have been worth the logistical nightmare it would bring.

As they approached the Great Hall, the buzz of excitement that usually filled the air felt somewhat misplaced to him. The vast chamber was alive with speculation and anticipation, but he couldn’t shake off a sense of skepticism. Dumbledore was definitely planning something in this task, he could feel it in his gut, and he hated it.

He joined Daphne, Tracy, and Blaise, his mind not on the feast, but on the forthcoming announcement from Dumbledore. It seemed every eye in the hall was trained on the Headmaster, hanging on his every word as if they were gospel.

The feast itself was a grand affair, as always, but it was clear that Dumbledore's announcement was what everyone was really waiting for. The Headmaster rose to speak, and a hush fell over the hall. He began in his usual manner, a mix of seriousness and warmth, but to Harry, it felt more like a well-rehearsed performance.

“Students of Hogwarts,” Dumbledore intoned, “we approach the final task of our tournament. Unlike the previous challenges, which tested physical strength and dueling capabilities, this task will be a mental trial.”

There was a ripple of intrigued murmurs across the hall, but he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Technically, the other tasks did require some heavy thinking, yet the headmaster made them sound like any idiot could have won. To be fair, the way that Harry won his duels did give that impression…

“A maze will be constructed on the Quidditch pitch, which shall remain closed until the end of the task,” Dumbledore continued. This announcement caused a stir among the students, especially the Quidditch players. The closure of the pitch wasn’t just an inconvenience; it was a significant alteration to school life, all for the sake of this elaborate and mysterious task.”

So, a maze? How unoriginal! Seriously, it was one of the most common tasks in past Tri-Wizard tournaments. But it would serve the headmaster well. There was a lot he could do with a maze, that he would not need to reveal. This made things tricky; it’s hard to keep track on many competitors at once, meaning that it would have been very easy for Dumbledore to sneak anything in…

“As competitors navigate this magical labyrinth, they will face challenges that require more than physical strength. Success in this task will hinge on one's ability to decipher runes and solve enigmatic puzzles.” Dumbledore’s words were met with nods and murmurs.

Before he could think of anything else, the headmaster continued, “the victor will be the first to find the trophy hidden within the maze.”

Dumbledore concluded with a twinkle in his eye, “I urge all competitors to embrace the spirit of intellectual rigor and fair play. Now, that’s enough talk. I am sure that most of you are famished.”

The rest of the feast was a whirlwind. People spoke to each other excitingly about the task, but all Harry could feel was dread. The task just didn’t feel safe and entirely in Dumbledore’s advantage. He needed to make a plan and quickly. He only had two weeks left to come up with something.