Characters, settings, and story relating to the Harry Potter series of novels are copyright J. K. Rowling, along with Bloomsbury Publishing, et al. “Spirit of Fear” is not an officially published work, nor is it in any cooperation with J. K. Rowling or Bloomsbury Publishing. “Spirit of Fear” is entirely (with the exclusion of the aforementioned characters, settings, and story) a work by Thomas Holman.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Terms and Conditions

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“You all right, Chey?”

At the Romania Dragon Reservation, Charlie looked up from his desk to see Chey enter his office.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, with all that happened at the World Cup! I was wondering if you’d even made it out alive.”

“Come on, you know me better than that, Chuck. Though the concern in your voice tells me you personally witnessed the horrors. Pray tell, what’s your story.”

Charlie reclined in his seat, eyeing Chey suspiciously. “You’re never interested in other’s experiences. You’d only ask if you were sure you had a much better story to tell.”

“You know me too well. Still, you go first.”

“We heard the screams and split up. Everyone in our group who’s of age, my father, brothers Bill and Percy, and myself, set off to help the Ministry. The others, my sister Ginny, brothers Fred, George and Ron, and their friends Harry and Hermoine took cover in the woods.”

“Hey, that reminds me,” Chey interrupted. “I never did meet Fred, George, or Ginny.”

“Stick around me long enough and you will. Anyhow, from what I was told, they got separated, and Ron, Harry and Hermoine were caught up at the scene of the Mark.”

“I see. They ever find out who did it?”

“They think it was Crouch’s house elf.”

“Barty Crouch? From International Magical Cooperation?” Chey couldn’t suppress the smile glowing on his face.

“Yeah. Why, is that funny?”

“No, just dripping with irony,” he said, remembering how Crouch had publicly denounced all dark arts numerous times in his career. “Anyway, you guys get out okay?”

“Yeah, took off around dawn. No major injuries, only Bill got a bad cut and I’m still sore from the fight. How’d you fair?”

“First thing I did was to get Fleur and Gabrielle out of there.”

“Safe bet. How far into the woods did you go?”

“Don’t know, we lost track. We did find some of her classmates from Beauxbatons, so I left the girls with them.”

“You left them?”

“Yeah, looking back it seems like a dumb idea. But I wanted to go back and fight.”

“At what point did you come in?”

“I didn’t really stand by and assess the situation. All I saw was bodies floating in the air and hooded figures grouped underneath. Never saw anyone fighting them.”

“Then you must have arrived just when they managed to knock us all back at once!”

“That happened? I was wondering why no one was fighting.”

“They were tough! That was a real fight we had on our hands. Next thing anyone knew after they got us all, the Death Eaters were scattered, some stunned, and the muggles were safe on the ground.”

“Didn’t seem so tough to me. All of them got beat by my expanded stunner. First one to recover took a good thirty seconds.”

“You knocked them down? By yourself?”

“Yeah. That Moody guy kept raving about it. Got kind of annoying.”

“Moody?” Charlie sat up at hearing this name. “Bad scars, false eye, walks with a limp?”

“That’s the guy. What do you know about him?”

“Used to be an auror back during the war. Since then, people say he’s gone mental. Some call him Mad-Eye Moody.”

“A descriptive name if I ever heard one.”

“So he was at the scene? I don’t remember seeing him.”

“He blends in well in low light. But he was there before the game, too. Actually knew the difference between wizard and warlock.” Chey didn’t think it wise to divulge what else Moody had proved his knowledge of, least of all Chey’s wand.

“So I guess you didn’t stay too long, seeing as I never saw you there.”

“Right. Few minutes after the creeps took off, I headed back for the girls. Maxime still hadn’t caught up with the students, so we all hung out at my site. When Maxime finally showed up, the sun was just rising, so I figured it was best to get Fleur and Gabrielle home.”

“How’d their parents take the news?”

“I gotta tell ya, Chuck. It must be nice not reading the newspaper. They had no idea what happened.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope. Pretty surprised to find out about it, though!”

“I’m sure. How hard on you were they?”

“That I put their daughters in danger? Surprisingly they were pretty cool with it. Very reasonable people.”

“Shame. Imagine if they’d forbidden you to ever be near them again.”

“Back home, that’s what we call good television.” Seeing Charlie’s perplexed look, Chey added, “Never mind. Anyway, then I went back to the site later that day and packed up, drove the camper out, and had it and the truck shipped back home.”

“Shipped?”

“London docks. They should be in Norfolk in about two weeks, then I have someone there to take care of it.”

“For someone who hasn’t been in America for a handful of years,” Chey heard a calm voice near the door behind him, “you are surprisingly well connected.”

“Professor!” Charlie stood up immediately.

“Chuck,” Chey said, a hint of anger in his voice, “don’t tell me there’s a teacher behind me.”

“Er...”

“I could have sworn Summer vacation meant not seeing any teachers for months?”

“Alas, you’ll have to endure my company regardless, Mister McGonagall.”

“Professor Dumbledore, what are you doing here?” Charlie asked, and Chey turned finally looked behind him to find it was indeed the headmaster from Hogwarts he had met a year and a half prior. “Is something the matter?”

“An excellent question, Mister Weasley,” said the aging wizard. “But sadly, everything is fine, otherwise my entrance would have been far more dramatic. I’ve only come to offer Mister McGonagall an opportunity.”

Worried he might be roped into attending another year at a school where he could learn nothing more, Chey summoned in his mind every excuse to get out of it he could think of. Everything from not wanting to waste time to a sick relative was at the ready. Even if it took all night, he was going to talk the old wizard out of it.

“This coming term, we’ll be cancelling the inter-house Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts,” Albus started, and Chey recognized the stall tactic he himself had used before. “In place of it, Hogwarts will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament, and Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be competing as well.”

“And that means what to me?”

“Traditionally,” he continued as though never hearing him, “there has always been an impartial mediator appointed. Though the position never holds the glamor that comes with the status of the champions or judges, the mediator is always an important role.”

“How so?”

“By creating a barrier between judges and champions, he or she ensures judging is fair.”

“You still haven’t said what this has to do with me.”

“I’m offering you the position, Mister McGonagall.”

“And right away I see a problem.”

“Is that so?” The wizard seemed amused, and smiled at Chey’s observation.

“I’ve attended both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. There’s no way I could be impartial.”

“On the contrary, young master of illusions. You could quite easily be the very definition of ‘impartial.’”

“I can’t see how.”

“You’re already free from allegiances of any of the competing nations. All you would have to do is attend Hogwarts.”

There it was. Chey knew the old man had an angle, and it finally came out.

“Minerva put you up to this?” Chey asked him.

“Not in the slightest. In fact, she advised against my asking you.”

“I’m sure,” Chey snapped back. “Sorry, but I’m done with school.”

“Yes, your aunt did tell me of your plan to study on your own.”

“So why bother?”

“Because there is a host of benefits that arise from a year at Hogwarts.”

“Alright, I’ll humor you. What benefits might they be?”

“Hogwarts has the world’s most complete collection of magical literature.”

“Second to the Library of Congress’s section on sorcery,” Chey corrected him.

“Of course,” Albus agreed. “However, I don’t think the curators are all too willing to grant you unrestricted access like I am.”

Chey thought it over, and realizing full access to the second most complete magical library on earth wouldn’t be too bad, said, “I’ll give you that.”

“Second,” Albus went on, “your appointment to the position of the Triwizard Mediator may very well offset your recent run of bad press.”

“That would have been a good incentive had that issue even bothered me.”

“So we are of the same mind! Neither of us bears much by what the public thinks of us!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Chey said, and the wizard recoiled slightly in surprise. “I have a feeling this out-of-the-blue proposal has less to do with your needing a mediator, and more to do with the furthering of your image as a giving and caring individual.”

“What are you talking about, Chey?!” Charlie finally spoke.

“I’m saying that in the eyes of the people, what would look better than offering a seventh chance to a unanimously deemed screw up? This is about your image, not your tournament.”

Albus did nothing but smile, and Chey couldn’t tell if it was amusement at Chey’s observation or laughter at an ill advised assumption. When he finally spoke, it was with a very light tone.

“You are as skeptical as your aunt warned me. I assure you, my intentions have nothing to do with my public image. Though if I am seen in a kinder light as a result, let it be so.”

“First,” Chey replied, “that’s one hell of a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one. Second, I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you’re trying to say your intentions are beyond self-serving.”

“And you would be correct.”

“But flattery, a large library, and a straightforward attitude aren’t enough.”

“Durmstrang and Beauxbatons,” the professor carried on as though never hearing Chey’s last comment, “will be sending delegations to Hogwarts, comprised of students who are selected to a shortlist.”

“You got a point to this?”

“There’s a possibility that, while enrolled at Hogwarts, you’ll encounter some of your friends from previous schools.”

Could this guy read minds? It was as though he knew just what to say to get Chey into his school.

But the opportunity to see Fleur again without having to sneak past Maxime? Now that was tempting, and part of him wanted to accept the old man’s proposition right away. There was no question she’d make the shortlist, what with her standing as the top student, and surely Viktor, Karkaroff’s new star Quidditch player, would compete in this tournament. He could see his friends anytime he wished if they came.

On the other hand, was it really worth it to deal with Maxime and Karkaroff again? And he swore he was done with school. He’d learned all anyone could teach him, and anything further he’d have to discover for himself. Besides, he might not even need the Hogwarts library. Perhaps he’d impressed someone in the Department of Sorcery enough to grant him access to the Library of Congress. All this, and there was no guarantee Fleur and Viktor would be there.

But even the possibility of seeing her again...

“If I’m to accept,” Chey said, thinking up his deal breakers, “I’d need a few more small incentives.”

“Such as?”

“Just a few privileges.”

“Understandable.”

Chey couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t expected the old man to be so yielding. He quickly added a few things to his list.

“First, I’m not entirely crazy about the uniform. The black cloak is good, but the shirt and tie is too reminiscent of a prep school. Being able to wear a t-shirt and jeans would be nice.”

“Agreed. Anything further?”

“Second, I hear Hogsmeade is nice, but not so much when it’s crowded, so I’d like permission to visit anytime I want.”

“Very well. Term starts-”

“I wasn’t done yet,” Chey interrupted, and Albus was taken aback. “Third, I’ve always made an entrance everywhere I go. So you’ll need to make sure that path can handle four tires holding two thousand pounds total. Fourth, and I’m not holding my breath on this one, someone’s gotta get me a map to the place.”

“Is there anything else?”

Chey thought it over, wondering how much else he could get away with. Then, remembering a certain clause in the American Constitution, said “Yeah. I reserve the right to ask for a few things later as I think about them.”

“Very clever. Five sounds fair, don’t you think?”

“Fair indeed.”

“Then we are in accord?”

“I think so.”

“Wonderful,” came a voice that could only belong to Minerva, as she entered the open door carrying a torn and patched witch’s hat. “Now to have you sorted.”

“What?”