When Harry got to Hogsmeade, he headed straight to the Three Broomsticks to meet Hermione and the others for lunch.
Harry cast an eye around and found Hermione and Neville at the bar ordering Butterbeer. He wove his way thought to them.
"We got you a Butterbeer," Neville said, pushing a bottle across to him, making Harry grin, "and we figured we'd get food to share." He added.
"Thanks," Harry said, gratefully taking a long pull of his Butterbeer. He loved Butterbeer.
He turned to Hermione to see where they wanted to sit, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at the mirror behind the bar.
"Doesn't he ever go into the Ministry?" Hermione whispered, "Look!"
She pointed, and he followed her finger. There in the reflection was Ludo Bagman sitting in a shadowy corner at the back of the pub with a bunch of goblins. He was talking very fast in a low voice, looking very uncomfortable. The goblins were all had their arms crossed and were looking menacing.
"Wonder what he did to piss them off this time?" Harry wondered.
"He's in debt, remember?" Hermione whispered, "it was in the Quibbler."
"It's odd that they're here," said Neville.
It was indeed, odd. Harry thought. He watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking panicked like he had that night in the forest before the Dark Mark had appeared. But just then Bagman glanced over at the bar, saw Harry, and stood up.
"Bollocks," Harry sighed.
Neville snickered.
"In a moment, in a moment!" Bagman's voice carried over to them as he brusquely dismissed the goblins. Bagman hurried through the pub toward Harry, his grin back in place.
"Harry!" he said. "Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?"
"Well Met sir," Harry greeted formally, hoping Bagman would take the hint and stop calling him Harry as if they were friends.
"Wonder if I could have a private word, Harry?" said Bagman eagerly. "You couldn't give us a moment, you two, could you?"
"Er-" Neville stuttered, and Hermione searched Harry's face for a moment before nodding and saying, "we'll go find a table, Harry."
Bagman led Harry along the bar to the end furthest from Madam Rosmerta. Harry followed him but didn't get within arms reach of the man.
"Well, I thought I'd congratulate you on surviving the first task, Harry," said Bagman. "But don't forget this is a competition, you want to earn points!"
Harry stared at him. But Bagman didn't seem in any particular rush to get to the point.
"Mr Potter, please, sir, we don't really know each other," Harry corrected softly. But Bagman was glancing into the mirror over the bar at the goblins, who were all watching him and Harry through dark slanting eyes. Harry gave them a discreet nod of acknowledgment that Bill had taught him.
They looked at him for a long moment before nodding back and muttering to each other.
"Absolute nightmare," said Bagman in an undertone jerking his head in their direction.
Harry frowned at this, being rude about them wouldn't do him any favours.
"Their English isn't too good..." Bagman said, "it's like being back with all the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup... but at least they used sign language another human could recognise. This lot keep gabbling in Gobbledegook... and I only know one word of Gobbledegook. Bladvak. It means 'pickax.' But I don't want them to think I'm threatening them."
He gave a short, booming laugh that Harry didn't find that funny. He wondered if the goblins too were pretending to not understand Bagman like the Bulgarians had been. Harry wouldn't blame them for not learning English, why bother learning to communicate with wizards when they were so rude? And it wasn't as if Bagman had made any effort to learn their language.
"Well, I have it on good authority that my Goblin Tongue is rather terrible currently, but-"
"Gobbledegook, Harry, the language is called, Gobbledegook." Bagman corrected.
"Mr Potter," he corrected with a frown, "and it's not actually. That's what wizards call it. It's a rather insulting name." Harry said.
When Bagman looked surprised and spluttered, Harry said, "I may not be able to speak it yet, but I can follow their etiquette well enough. Their customs really are the most sensible. Most wizards would do better just to even make an effort to learn them. At the very least, it would do well to not offend the people dealing with your money through sheer ignorance." Harry said calmly.
"Oh," Mr Bagman said, looking stunned, "I say, I suppose you have a point... I'd never even thought of that!"
Harry had to work not to roll his eyes. "What do they want anyway, sir? If you don't mind me asking," He said, noticing how the goblins were watching Bagman very closely again.
"Er..." said Bagman, looking suddenly nervous. "They... er... they're looking for Barty Crouch."
Harry got the strangest impression that he was lying. Or latest partially. The man's magic was tumultuous, and Harry got the sense that he was desperate.
"Why are they looking for him here?" said Harry, if it was a lie, it was a bad one. It made no sense for Crouch to be here. "He's meant to be at home sick, or in the Ministry, isn't he?"
"Er... as a matter of fact, I've no idea where he is," said Bagman. "He's stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Percy, his assistant, says he's been sending instructions in by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone, Harry? Because Rita Skeeter's still poking around everywhere, she can, and I'm willing to bet she'd work up Barty's illness into something sinister. Probably say he's gone missing like Bertha Jorkins."
"Mr Potter," Harry corrected again somewhat irritably, "and have you heard anything about Jorkins yet?" He asked.
"No," said Bagman, looking strained again. "I've got people looking, of course ..." (About time, thought Harry) "and it's all very strange. She seems to have vanished without a trace..." Bagman continued.
Harry wondered if he should tell Bagman she was dead, but how would he explain how he knew?
Harry was saved from mentioning it when Bagman changed the subject, "What are we doing, talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins? I really wanted to ask you," he lowered his voice, and Harry couldn't help thinking; finally! You're getting to the point!
"How are you getting on with your golden egg?"
Harry blinked, "why," he asked, surprised, and somewhat defensively suspicious.
"Listen, Harry," Bagman murmured, and Harry had to forage back another frown at yet another adult taking such improper informalities with him! Still!
"I feel very bad about all this... you were thrown into this tournament, you didn't volunteer for it..." Bagman continued, and Harry couldn't help thinking, what? Now you care about that?!
Bagman's voice was so quiet now, Harry had to lean closer to listen, "if I can help at all... I've taken a liking to you... and you didn't do too well against the Dragon... you a bit behind, just say the word."
Harry fort to hold back a glair. I dealt with the Dragon just fine thank you very much, he thought.
Harry stared up into Bagman's round, flushed face and his wide eyes.
He felt nervous, Harry realised, panicked, with maybe a hint of desperation.
"We're supposed to work out the clues alone, aren't we?" Harry said, careful to keep his voice casual as if he were asking for guidance and not accusing the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules.
Even if he was.
"Well... well, yes," said Bagman impatiently, pleadingly...
Why was he pleading? Why did Bagman want Harry to cheat? To blackmail him? "but - come on. Harry, we all want a Hogwarts victory, don't we?"
Do we? Harry thought facetiously.
"Have you offered Diggory help?" Harry said, "he has a much better chance of winning than me, sir."
The smallest of frowns creased Bagman's face, and Harry thought he felt a flash of panic from the man.
What? He didn't want Diggory winning? So it wasn't about Hogwarts, it was about Harry.
What the hell?
"No, I haven't," Bagman said. "I - well, like I say, I've taken a liking to you. Just thought I'd offer..."
Ah, that's what it was. He wanted Harry to win.
Why though? Was he in it to see Harry dead? Was he part of Riddle's plot? That could be why no-one knew Jorkins was dead yet.
But Bagman hadn't felt like he was lying when he was talking about her. And he seemed so ordinary, so harmless if a bit of a crook. Harry never really got the impression that Bagman was a threat to him. He never felt like a threat, just a bit dodgy. What was going on?
"Hello, Mr Bagman," said Fred brightly popping up behind Harry.
Bagman jumped and suddenly seemed much less eager to be there. And wasn't that interesting.
"Can we buy you a drink?" George offered, rather politely.
What did they want Harry wondered, they were acting oddly. They wanted something, he could sense it. What did they want from Bagman?
"Er, no," said Bagman shortly casting a glance at Harry, "no, thank you, boys... But how about it, Harry, think about my offer." He was already looking as if he wanted to escape.
Fred and George looked just as disappointed at this and Harry wondered what they wanted. Bagman almost seemed scared of Fred and George? No... not scared.... but he diffidently wasn't pleased to see them. Harry sighed, frowning slightly at the man.
"Anyway, I really must decline Mr Bagman," said Harry formally, "and please sir, I don't mean to be rude, but it's Mr Potter, sir. I wouldn't want to be accused of anything or breaking the rules. It's bad enough that I'm in it as it is, I don't want any trouble."
And he didn't want any trouble. Even if Bagman seemed harmless in his want to have Harry win, Harry didn't want any more trouble. And Bagman was a stranger to him.
Bagman looked affronted and disappointed like Harry had let him down badly.
What the hell?
"I really must dash," Bagman said, looking at the door again, behind Fred and George.
"Nice seeing you, Mr Potter. Good luck." He said.
Finally, Harry though, someone who is using my last name, not taking liberties!
"Thank you, sir," Harry started, but Bagman had already hurried out of the pub. The goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him.
Interesting.
He turned to Fred, "what was that about?"
"Later," he said quietly.
"Come on, let's eat," said George pointing to the table Hermione and Neville had grabbed, that now held plates of food.
They went to rejoin them.
"What did he want?" Neville said the moment Harry had sat down.
"He offered to help me with the egg," said Harry.
"He shouldn't be doing that!" said Hermione, looking very shocked. "He's one of the judges! And anyway, you don't need it."
"Nope," said Harry happily, "to both those points."
"I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!" said Hermione, still looking deeply disapproving.
"He's not," said Harry, "I got the impression he wants me to win. I think he placed a bet on me..." Harry finished ponderingly.
"Ah, he bet that you win, and if he's right it will clear his debt with the bank," Neville guessed.
George groaned, letting his head fall down on his twin's shoulder, muttering something.
"You okay?" Harry asked, their magic was swirling anxiously.
"Course," Fred said with a grin that despite looking convincing, didn't match the emotions Harry could sense bleeding of them.
"Right as rain," George said, smiling too, sitting up straight and taking a chip.
Harry did not believe them. He'd pick at it later.
"Those goblins didn't look happy," said Neville, "Did he say what they wanted?"
"Looking for Crouch," said Harry. "He's still not at work."
"Maybe Percys poisoning him," said Fred.
"Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it," George said
"He'll be promoted to Head of the Department," Fred finished.
Hermione gave them a don't-joke-about-that look, and said, "Funny, goblins looking for Mr Crouch... They'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"And that name in itself is a bit insulting." Harry said "and would they actually go there? They hate wizards, and at least Crouch can speak loads of different languages," he continued. "Maybe they need an interpreter. But I think Bagman was lying. Just a feeling I had."
"Charlie was always right-"
"Whenever he got those feelings," the twins said.
Harry gave them a pointed look at that, but said, "speaking of your older brother, Bill said he'd call you on the mirror later."
"Sweet," said the twins with a grin, digging into lunch.
*
They'd just about finished their lunch when Neville pointed to the door and said, "oh no."
Harry's heart sank. Rita Skeeter had just entered. She was accompanied by her photographer, Bozo.
Goddess Harry felt sorry for the man, having to put up with her.
She bought drinks, and they made their way through the crowds to a table nearby. They glared at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied with something, not paying them any attention.
"-wasn't keen to talk to us, was he, Bozo? Now, why wouldn't he? And with goblins in tow? Showing them the sights... what utter rubbish... he is a bad liar. Something's up. I think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman...' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo - we just need to find a story for it -"
"Trying to ruin someone else's life no doubt," Hermione said snidely, perhaps a bit too loud.
A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jewelled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.
"Harry!" she said beaming. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join-?"
"No, thank you." He snapped shortly, "and it's Mr Potter, please. Only my friends call me Harry. Besides, I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick, as you well know." He said furiously. "Not after what you did to Hagrid, and the lie's you've already sprouted about me."
"Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry." She said with a smirk raising a pencilled eyebrow, "I am merely doing my-"
"Who cares if he's half-giant?" Harry said coldly. "There's nothing wrong with him! And my name is Mr Potter. You act far too familiar Ms Skeeter, it's highly inappropriate."
The whole pub had gone very quiet, listening in.
Rita Skeeters smile flickered very slightly, but she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, "How about giving me an interview?"
"Not with you. Or that lying quill," Harry said cooly, "I only do interviews with Ms Lovegood of the Quibbler. It's the only paper I trust."
She snorted, "now see here, boy-"
Hermione stood up very abruptly, "you horrible woman," she said, through gritted teeth, "you don't care about anyone as long as you get a good story."
"Sit down you silly girl, don't talk about things you don't understand," Skeeters eyes hardened.
"I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl... not that it needs it," she added.
Before Hermione could snap back, Harry said conversationally, "you know this could have been great for you. If you hadn't tried to make up lies about me. If you had actually been a trustworthy person, I could work with. This could have been a very profitable working relationship. Instead, you through your weight around and made up a pack of lies, and missed out. Maybe you want to think about that next time, hmm?"
"You have no idea what you're playing with boy," she hissed "you'll regret not giving me what I want."
"Let's go," said Hermione, "c'mon."
They left; many people stared at them as they went.
Fred snickered, "that was fantastic!"
"Might want to be careful of her though, she holds a grudge," said George.
Harry glanced back as they reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table. He wanted to hex her. Maybe with a truth spell. He'd have to see if there was one.
"What a bitch," Hermione said.
"Hermione!" Neville exclaimed.
"It's true," she said, unrepentant, "anyway what are we all doing next?"
Harry cast a quick Tempus "we gotta go meet..." He trailed off, and the others nodded.
"We'll make your excuses if people ask," Neville said.
The twins went in the other direction, interrogating Neville about a plant that Harry wasn't familiar with that they were thinking of using in for a prank sweet idea.
"I brought the food," Hermione said, passing him a large package she seemed to have pulled from her pocket.
"Thanks," Harry said, stowing it in his own bag.
Harry and Hermione were heading towards the end of the road, and Harry had a hard time not dragging his feet.
"What's up, Harry?" Hermione said as they dervish and bangs.
"I don't want to see Sirius," he said morosely, feeling conflicted.
"Want to talk about it?" She asked.
He was saved from answering by Diggory.
"Hey, Harry!" The older boy called.
Harry clenched his jaw, he didn't really want to deal with Diggory either. He didn't want to talk about the tournament with the boy, or anyone else really.
"It's Potter," he corrected, "we don't really know each other."
"Right, sorry, Potter," Diggory said, looking a bit taken aback.
"It's fine," Harry said, forcing a smile, "what do you need?"
"About the second task" he started but trailed off looking at Hermione. Who rolled her eyes, "can I have a word? In private?"
"Look," Harry said, cutting him off, "I'm sorry, I can't talk, I'm running late, the egg's a riddle in mermish if you're really stuck."
He turned on his heel-dragging a snickering Hermione with him, leaving a bewildered Diggory behind.
"He may have been trying to help you with it," she pointed out.
"What? Why?" Harry asked bewildered, "his house was on my ass all last term after my name came out, giving me the cold shoulder. They hate me, or they did. They've been quiet lately. And he made it clear after my name was pilled that he thought I'd cheated me way in. Why would he help me?"
"Maybe he felt guilty or felt he owed you. Why'd you tell him it was mermish?" She asked curiously.
"To shut him up, so he'd leave me alone." He said as if it were obvious.
"Fair enough. Now why don't you want to see Sirius?" she asked, looping her elbow through his.
His shoulders slumped, and he leaned into her side slightly, "been reading mum's diary's, they were bully's at school. Really horrible. Like Dudley. I can't explain the details as it's not my story to tell but..." He trailed off, "by the Goddess Hermione, they were so horrible, and it just got worse out of school with how they trapped mum into a marriage. She didn't want it, not marriage, not kids, she wanted nothing to do with them. She loved me, but I shouldn't have existed and its Sirius and James's fault. They got her drunk, trapped her in a contract. He helped James orchestrate it."
He bit down hard on his tongue, feeling strongly like crying. His godfather was not at all what he thought he was. Not at all what Harry had hoped he'd be. Not the family he'd so desperately craved and that pain burned in him, like an angry flame.
"I hate them," he whispered quietly, trying to restrain his emotions to keep from yelling, "for what they did to mum, and her friend! For not being what I thought they were, or what I needed them to be!"
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice full of pained sympathy she was about to pull him into a hug when a loud bark in the distance startled them.
A black dog was at barking at the end of the road and came bounding down the street to them, his tail wagging.
It was such a sharp difference from the Sirius in his mother diary's that Harry had trouble reconciling the two for a moment. It took Harry all his will not to shove Sirius off him when he jumped up and licked his face, his tail wagging.
Hermione looked at Harry as if to say, 'I can make an excuse, we can leave.'
But Harry just shook his head. Sirius was still his godfather. Maybe 12 years in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit had changed the man. The man was here, after all. Maybe he did care. Maybe he could still be someone Harry could look at with ought feeling shame.
But Harry didn't really have much hope, as he and Hermione climbed over the stile and followed the excitable black dog.