The Tempest Part 1: Batten Down the Hatches
Unable to stay asleep any longer, Albus Dumbledore poured himself a hot cup of Darjeeling, squeezed in a bit of lemon and stirred in a single spoon of honey. Fawkes grumbled and squawked at having been woken so early - as did the portrait of Phineas Nigellus which Dumbledore just ignored.
The headmaster was pleased that things seemed to be coming along nicely at Number 12 with Petunia and Dudley Dursley - both Evanses now, he reminded himself, having convinced Petunia that she should file for divorce and seek full custody of her son - and with Jean Granger and her sister.
It would not have been at all feasible without a wizard to manage the magical residence and monitor the situation now that Sirius and Remus had taken up residence at the Shrieking Shack to be closer to the centre of the action. But Abbie Brixton appeared to be doing a fine job, and she had indicated that things had been going as well as could be expected the past couple of months, given the disparate personalities of the family members of both Potters.
Which was good, because things were clearly coming to a head. Given the situation at the Ministry, it was clear that Harry would have no longer been able to reside at Number 4 Privet Drive anyway, even if Vernon Dursley hadn’t been so intransigent. While safe from Voldemort there, Harry was vulnerable to the Minister - who had made it plain as day that her interest in Harry Potter was as obsessive as that of the self-styled “Dark Lord.”
And it was ever more clear that though Voldemort posed the most immediate threat - barring the Triwizard Tournament of course - that the Minister was beginning to look like the bigger long-term threat by far.
The Minister’s political skills were masterful, and her agenda - much the same as Voldemort’s - threatened to undo over a century of progress in wizarding Britain in a way which Riddle could never have hoped to achieve through brute force alone.
As “Lord” Voldemort, Tom Riddle had frightened many into seeing things his way, but his habit of murdering his own supporters in fits of psychotic rage had also made that support rather wobbly. A fact that the current Minister had exploited to her great advantage in Voldemort's absence.
It was also clear that if Harry survived the Tournament, that the Minister would escalate and move to secure the Ministry completely in an effort to drive Harry Potter and the Order underground.
Another fact was that Amelia Bones was in danger while Voldemort lived. The Bones Family had been targeted with extreme prejudice and nearly wiped out by Voldemort in the last war, the only survivors being Susan Bones’s parents, and her Great-Aunt Amelia. It was almost a certainty that Voldemort would want to finish the job.
And now it was also quite probable that the Minister would find some means to wrest the DMLE from Amelia’s control. An assassination attempt by Minister Umbridge was also a distinct possibility while Voldemort remained at large as a convenient scapegoat, whenever she deigned to reveal his return. Should she gain complete control of the Ministry, the Minister would no doubt attempt to take Hogwarts at her earliest opportunity.
Dumbledore dipped his quill in his inkwell and began to scribble a rough plan.
Dawlish and Shacklebolt would have to stay glued to Amelia at the Ministry for the time being, but she would not be safe in her own home. Harry had indicated that he would feel better if the Evanses and his wife’s family had extra magical protection. Perhaps if Amelia also took up temporary residence in Number 12 that would meet everyone’s needs.
As to the Order itself, it was clear that Hogwarts could not be left unattended over the summer. It was likely to be targeted by both Voldemort and the Minister. It might be best for the Professors to remain at Hogwarts this year. And every effort must be made to protect the members of the School’s Board of Governors. Their homes must be provided with the highest levels of security.
And now that the Order had a media outlet to counter the Minister’s propaganda, Mr Lovegood’s facilities would also have to be protected - possibly moved to a new location altogether.
Meanwhile, further efforts were necessary to locate and finish Voldemort and his horcruxes - the sooner the better. As long as the Minister appeared to be the bigger threat, Voldemort was a thorn in the Order’s side, and the Order’s attention divided.
And as to the odd magical power surges, Dumbledore had a strong suspicion that the Potters were somehow behind them - and he had a reasonably good idea of how they were producing them. One thing at least had been made clear by the instruments which monitored Hogwarts, the magic - whether in the raw outbursts, or in the apparent directed applications - was highly purified and refined.
Traces of such high frequency magic in Ireland, Britain, and Europe were these days to be found only in ancient magical sites associated with Witchcraft, which were currently ascribed by muggles to primeval Goddess worshippers.
The only other time Dumbledore had personally come across such magic was during a tour of the Orient when he had been introduced to an Ashram in India, a Temple in Tibet, and a Temple in China’s Wudang range, all of which bore the signature of similar magic, and all of them the only schools dedicated to witchcraft in otherwise male dominated magical traditions. But their secrets had been fiercely guarded by the witches who maintained them.
And if anything, the mysterious magic had strengthened every defence which Hogwarts possessed. With each event of the raw outbursts - three in just the course of last night’s dinner-time, and the one several months ago - and with each event of the applied magic of the same frequency signature, which had been occurring on a regular basis in that time period - the power of the protection charms which warded the castle had increased tenfold.
With some direction, the magic could be utilised to provide an unmatchable level of security for Hogwarts. But for the meantime, Dumbledore felt it wise to simply let it flourish on its own... at least until the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament. And perhaps it would also be wise to follow up on Alastor’s most recent suggestion.
Confident now that he had addressed all of his immediate concerns, Albus Dumbledore lay down his quill, sighed, and poured himself a fresh cup of tea.
In the final weeks leading up to the Third Task, Harry and Hermione had never been busier. Especially Hermione as, unlike Harry, she still faced final exams at the end of June. The Champions had all been given the break from exams as it was expected that they would all be studying and training as hard as they could to make it through the Tournament.
It was during the last week of May, not long after Harry and Hermione had had their first real argument, when they were approached by Professor McGonagall during Transfigurations. She had a dour expression, which wasn’t uncommon for McGonagall.
“Potter... and Potter, if you would, I’d like a word with the both of you after class today.”
“Er... what’s this about Professor?” asked Harry.
“After class Mr Potter.”
Of course Harry and Hermione could think of nothing else during the rest of the lesson. Even Hermione was having trouble concentrating. Finally class was finished, and the rest of the students began filing out of the classroom.
“Alright then,” McGonagall began, her voice crisp, once the class was empty of all but her and the Potters. “I have been in consultations with the headmaster, and it his considered opinion that you - Mrs Potter - are to be relieved of the burdens of final exams...”
“Oh no!” Hermione squeaked in disappointment - though Harry appeared to be very grateful.
“Quite!” said the Professor, looking as if she very much agreed with Hermione’s sentiments. “It was brought to my attention by Professor Moody and the headmaster that you have been providing Mr Potter with unprecedented levels of assistance...”
Harry swallowed nervously and glanced at Hermione, who peered back at him, equally anxious - both wondering if their plans had been found out.
“In any case,” McGonagall continued, “after the necessity for you both to focus your attentions in these last few weeks before the Third Task became clear to me, I could only but agree with the headmaster’s concerns. So... there you have it Mrs Potter - you are clear to do your utmost to help Mr Potter without the distractions of studying for finals...”
Harry let out a huge sigh of relief. He couldn’t be happier; it had become very clear to him that Hermione was becoming overloaded and experiencing high levels of stress - though she would never admit it. The Potters both thought McGonagall was finished and turned to leave, but the Professor had one last thing to say.
“Oh... And Mrs Potter, do try and keep Mr Potter alive, won’t you?”
Both turning pink, Harry and Hermione scurried out of the classroom as quick as their feet could carry them.
“D’you think they all know?” Harry whispered, as they made their way to the next class.
“I’m not really sure Harry,” said Hermione. “It does seem very suspicious, but I rather think that Professor McGonagall would have put her foot down if she found out, so I doubt it.”
Things seemed even odder when Snape held them both back after Potions the following day. Harry stared at Snape feeling very perplexed, and Hermione bit her lip, wondering what was going on. After the usual awkward moment whenever Snape tried to talk to them, he finally began after heaving a weary sigh.
“Potter... It has been brought to my... attention, that you may be facing some rather... extreme circumstances in the upcoming final task. Given the severity of the situation, I have deemed it wise to bestow upon you some knowledge which you may find particularly beneficial.”
At this point, Snape reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a tatty old potions book with ragged edges and frayed bindings. The Potters’ eyes were drawn to it as Snape slid it across his desk.
“That’s a sixth year potions book...” said Hermione, looking very puzzled.
“Indeed... That is most perceptive of you, Mrs Potter!”
Harry lifted an eyebrow, wondering if Snape was being sarcastic. It was hard to tell sometimes.
“In any case,” Snape continued, his features inscrutable, “this book is more than just any sixth year potions book - it was my own. And it contains in the margins annotations, including some very useful spells - many of them of my own invention. There is one in particular that should prove quite... efficacious, in situations requiring extreme measures.
“Now one might ask... why I do not simply tell you the spell, and retain the book for myself? I had considered it, but as it so happens, I believe that you will both be needing it. The lessons from your current year are clearly not challenging enough for either of you...
“And I have no doubt that next year’s will be equally undemanding. So at the earliest opportunity, you are both to begin Advanced Potions with me. Clearly, this is not the time - however, it seems likely that you will have plenty of time this summer...”
Incredulous and unable to help himself, Harry blurted out, “Wait... did you just say this summer?”
“Yes Potter...” Snape gave Harry a withering look. “Keep up, won’t you?”
“Er... sorry sir!” Harry flushed. “I just... I mean... er... Why this summer?”
“You will have to ask the headmaster,” Snape replied, still looking impatient. “Perhaps he means me to give you private lessons at your home. I am not always privy to Professor Dumbledore’s reasons for his instructions, and it is not my place to question the headmaster. Now, if there are to be no further questions...”
Harry bit his tongue.
“Very good!” Professor Snape appeared to be somewhat mollified. “As I was saying - at some point you shall be receiving tutoring in Advanced Potions from me, but for the moment, there is a particular spell - a very.... dangerous spell which you may find invaluable during the Third Task.
“It is not altogether unlike the Diffindo Charm - a spell which I know that you are quite adept with. It can be however, much more damaging... its effects more long lasting, and in some cases permanent. It is also more effective on some magical beings who are otherwise invulnerable to the Diffindo Charm... Hence, I am sure that you can see how it might be useful to you, Potter.”
Snape appeared to think that required a response, so Harry nodded and answered, “Er... yes! Of course sir.”
“Excellent!” Snape seemed relieved to have got that out of the way. “The spell is the Sectumsempra Curse. It is written in the margins of one of the pages... labeled ‘for enemies’... Look it up - practice it.
“And I’m sure that I don’t have to tell you not to test it out on unsuspecting persons... nor to tell you not to test any other unknown spells on unsuspecting persons for that matter - there are a number of such in that book.”
Harry felt extremely insulted that Snape would even think that he was stupid enough to try out a spell he’d never heard of before on someone, but he didn’t say so... not in so many words anyway. Though Harry’s tone might have given him away.
“Of course I wouldn’t sir...”
Snape seemed satisfied, as his expression softened. “Good! I think then that we are finished for today, Potter!”
It was the eve of the Third Task, and Minister Umbridge went over her strategy one last time as she sipped her third cup of tea. All seemed to be in order. At last, at the conclusion of the Task, the return of Voldemort could be announced. He would prove to be such an exceptional scapegoat for what she had planned.
The day before the Third Task arrived with little fanfare as it was Friday and most students were in class. The Champions however had been given the day off to mentally prepare themselves and ostensibly get as much rest as possible. But Harry had called them all to the Room of Requirement to go over the last details.
“Of course it’s going to take place at dusk instead of in the morning,” Hermione grumbled as she and Harry waited in the corridor for the others to arrive. “Obviously to maximise the danger as much as possible.”
“Oh...” Harry sighed, raising his eyebrows. “You’re right... I hadn’t thought about that.” He heard footsteps in the corridor and spied the others approaching.
Cedric seemed a bit put out. “I was hoping to spend a bit of time with Cho, Harry. I managed to convince McGonagall to let her have the day off.”
“Well, we shouldn’t be too long Cedric. I’ll do you first if you’d like,” Harry responded. Though he was quite sure that Viktor was hoping to have as much time as possible with Lavender too - and no doubt Fleur would want to spend the rest of the day with Dora, who had arrived with the others.
“Er... what do you mean, ‘do me first’...?”
“You’ll see,” said Harry, grinning. “Anyway, I think you’ll like this Cedric - it was Hermione’s idea. She’s absolutely brilliant!” Hermione blushed, trying not to look too pleased.
Harry opened the door to the Room of Requirement and the others gasped. They peered around in amazement as they entered into the sunlight and stepped onto the sand. Waves crashed near the shoreline, the blue-green waters of the Mediterranean shimmering, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight in the bright blue sky.
“Ze Cote d’Azure,” Fleur murmured, her eyes wide. “It feels like ‘ome...”
“Yes!” Hermione beamed, eyes gleaming, her hair as usual catching the golden rays of the sun. “It’s a bit of the French Riviera I visited with my parents one summer.”
“What... how...?” Cedric was absolutely stunned.
“It’s a bit like the Enchanted Ceiling in the Great Hall,” Harry replied. “The edges are really an illusion...
“...Though if we went all the way to the water, the room would make that bit real when we got to it,” said Hermione excitedly. “We’ve already tested it.”
“Anyway, we thought it would be a nice place to relax while I painted some runes and symbols on us all,” Harry added.
“Oh? For Vot vill we need ze Runes?” asked Viktor.
“Well, they should help protect us from some of the creatures we think might be in the maze,” Hermione replied. “Harry and I have been working on them for weeks. We wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Er... us?” Cedric looked puzzled by Hermione’s choice of words.
“Oh, that’s the other thing... Hermione will be joining us in the maze,” said Harry. “She’s going to use my invisibility cloak to slip by everyone.”
“Are you joking?” Cedric’s jaw dropped. Fleur, Viktor, and Dora seemed only mildly surprised, knowing the Potters as well as they did.
“I’d come in too if I could,” said Dora. “I asked Dumbledore if I ought to join you lot. But ‘e seems to think that the wards might take me for a Professor. Hermione should be alright though.”
After the surprise wore off, Cedric wondered what they were supposed to do next. But Fleur seemed to understand what was required right away. Cedric gulped, turning beet-red when Fleur removed her blouse. Dora and Hermione grinned at his goofy expression. Soon everyone except Dora was topless and lying on beach towels, ready for Harry to tattoo them.
True to his word, Harry did Cedric first, for which Cedric was very grateful. Hurriedly, Cedric put his shirt and blazer back on and bolted from the Room of Requirement, trying his hardest not to look at Fleur, who was tittering. Harry dipped one of his brushes into the Rune Ink which he had brought and next began to tattoo Hermione.
“Ooooh... that tickles,” Hermione giggled, when Harry started to ink her abdomen with the brush.
“Try not to move Hermione,” said Harry, grinning.
When he had finished with Hermione, Harry started on Fleur. He was quite glad that her charms had little effect on him, as he wasn’t sure that he could keep his hand from shaking, judging from the reactions of Cedric and most other guys.
“I don’t recognise some of these runes Harry,” Dora remarked as she watched him work when he moved on to do Fleur.
“That’s because most of them aren’t Norse Runes,” Harry replied, “They weren’t in standard texts. Hermione and I found some symbols in books of ancient Greek Magic, and others in books of Ancient Egyptian Hieroglyphs...”
“...We’re not entirely certain that they’ll work because obviously we haven’t had an opportunity to test them of course, but they ought to,” Hermione continued. “One set of symbols is supposed to protect us from the Gorgon’s Gaze, and another set should protect us from Manticore venom...”
“...Hermione and I are bringing some bezoars in a little pouch too in case an Acromantula or Skrewt gets one of us,” said Harry, “but they may not work for Manticore venom, which can kill you nearly instantaneously if you get hit with its stinger...”
“... And these are the symbols the Egyptian Ministry uses to keep the Mummies locked in their tombs,” Hermione added. “The Norse Runes are just the standards for Fire and Cold though... There weren’t any that would scare away Skrewts or Acromantulas...”
Dora was very impressed... and very aroused by the sight of her new girlfriend only half-clothed. Harry and Viktor both chortled when Fleur dressed and Dora practically dragged her out of the Room of Requirement. Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair of silly boys.
Dora suddenly awoke when Fleur stirred beside her.
“Bloody Hell! Is that the time?” Dora’s eyes widened with shock when her eyes lit upon the clock on the mantelpiece. She leapt out of her bed and began flinging her clothes on. “I’m supposed to be escortin’ Harry and Hermione to breakfast...
“They’re supposed to be meeting the officials and foreign dignitaries... You are too come to think about it.”
“Mmm... vairy good, Dora! I will be right be’ind you chérie...”
Molly Weasley turned to look when Minerva McGonagall glanced at the entrance of the Great Hall. She beamed when she spotted Harry and Hermione arriving with Tonks and the French girl. Molly tugged on Arthur’s sleeve.
“Just a moment Minerva. Arthur... I think I’ll go say hello then - to let Harry know that we’re here to support him. Do you want to join me?”
“Oh... er...” Arthur spotted one of his sons directly in the path between the entrance of the Great Hall and the Staff table. His jaw tightened. “Perhaps later dear - but you go right ahead.”
Molly began to make her way through the throng of students and visitors to greet Harry and Hermione. As she passed by her son amongst the other officials, she caught his eye. Her son quickly looked away and turned his back on her. Molly huffed and continued on her way.
She narrowed her eyes when she saw Amos Diggory glaring at the Potters. Molly hoped he wasn’t going to cause a scene. Arthur had told her about his attitude towards Harry since the World Cup, and her friendly feelings towards Amos had cooled dramatically. Her hopes for a civil encounter were dashed when Amos began spouting off.
“There he is - the little Dark-Lord-in-Training himself,” Amos Diggory sneered loudly when he spied Harry strolling into the Great Hall, “Watch your back in there Cedric. He might use that Dark Curse on you...”
Harry’s face darkened. Fleur and Hermione flushed angrily, and Dora was livid. She looked like she was about to lay into Amos herself. Daphne, Parvati, Ginny, and Luna, who were about to seat themselves at the Mingling Table with Lavender and Viktor, all glowered at Mr Diggory. People turned to stare, and some even turned up their noses at the Potters, nodding in agreement.
“SHUT-IT Father!” Cedric snapped and his voice rose, “You don’t bloody know what you’re talking about. All you do is parrot the rubbish in the Daily Prophet and I’m done with it... In fact, I’m done with YOU!
“How many times do I have to tell you that if it weren’t for Harry, that I would have never known about the Dragon? I was almost burned to a crisp as it was! And if it weren’t for Harry my girlfriend would probably still be at the bottom of the Black Lake! Harry’s a good person and he’s my friend.”
Cedric turned his back on his gobsmacked father and stalked away. Molly thought Cedric’s mother looked rather proud of her son. Despite her best efforts, Molly’s hopes of saying hello to Harry and Hermione before breakfast were dashed when the crowd grew too thick to push her way through.
“Don’t pay any attention to my father, Harry,” Cedric said emphatically as he put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “He’s just an idiot who believes whatever he reads in that Ministry-loving Rag.”
“Er... Alright then.” Harry swallowed uncomfortably, knowing how hard it must have been for Cedric to stand up to his father. “Thanks for sticking up for me Cedric.”
Dora hoped that the awkwardness was over and that she could get back to doing her job and lead her charges over to the additional table laid out for the officials in the center of the Great Hall.
Hermione began to bristle again; Harry looked to see what was making her so cross. He stiffened when he saw who else was at the table. Dora peered to see what had caught the Potters’ attention. She sighed when she spotted Senior Undersecretary Percy Weasley at the table glad-handing the foreign dignitaries.
“Oh bugger it!” Dora huffed, “Forget the bloody dignitaries! They can all sod off - it’s mostly just the Minister’s foreign pals anyway! Go ‘ave breakfast - I’ll deal with ‘em...”
Harry glanced at Fleur and Hermione, uncertain.
“Er... you sure Dora?” asked Harry. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Well I’m really only here for the Order anyway,” muttered Auror-on-leave Tonks, “...no matter what the other Aurors think. Go on you lot. I mean it... I’ve got this! I’ll see you at the table in a minute, alright!?”
“Thanks Dora,” said Hermione, letting out a sigh of relief. The last thing she and Harry needed was a run-in with Percy.
The Potters took their seats among their friends. Everyone was at the table today, including the Twins, Dean, Neville - even Ron and Seamus. Ron was scowling at the table full of officials.
“Bloody Percy!” Ron fumed. “He’s been a real git lately - had a huge row with Mum and Dad when he became Senior Undersecretary. Percy began complaining to Dad about you and Dumbledore, Harry... He’s moved out on his own now - good riddance!”
“Hear, hear!” chimed in George.
“I always knew he’d come to no good,” Fred agreed. Ginny bit her lip, looking torn. As cross as she was with Percy, she was more than a bit sad about the whole affair.
Everyone did their best to put Percy out of their minds when breakfast arrived on their plates. Hermione was eating a piece of bacon when she noticed a beetle sitting on the corner of the table.
For some reason it looked very familiar. A memory of Viktor pointing out a water-beetle in her hair after the Second Task popped into her head - another memory arose, this time of Harry flicking a beetle off his chest after he’d had a vision of Voldemort summoning his Death Eaters.
Suddenly it all fit. Hermione’s eyes narrowed when she finally reached her conclusion. Then, grabbing her cup of tea, Hermione drained it in one gulp and smiled brightly at Harry.
“Just a moment Harry, I’ll be right back...” Hermione stood up with her empty cup in hand, stalked to the end of the table, and slammed the cup upside down over the beetle, trapping it inside.
“Do you mind if I borrow your saucer Luna?” Hermione asked sweetly.
“Of course not Hermione,” Luna peered at Hermione with great interest as she passed her the saucer.
Carefully, Hermione slid the cup onto the saucer, keeping the beetle trapped. Then she serenely returned to her seat and sat back down next to Harry. He eyed Hermione questioningly. She gestured towards the teacup with the saucer on top and grinned.
“Say hello to Rita Skeeter, Harry!”
Rita Skeeter couldn’t fathom how Hermione Potter had discovered her secret. But that wasn’t her biggest problem. Her biggest problem was that she now faced Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey in a dungeon deep in the bowels of Hogwarts.
Judging from violent glares she was receiving from the two witches, Rita decided that Dumbledore was her best bet.
“You can’t keep me trapped here forever you know,” Rita purred, licking her lips and fluttering her eyelashes at the Headmaster, “I promise I’ll behave if...”
“You are very fortunate Ms Skeeter...” the headmaster interrupted, his voice calm and his gaze frosty, “It was quite crowded in the Great Hall this morning. Someone might have accidentally stepped on you.”
Rita shuddered from a sudden chill when she realised that Dumbledore wasn’t joking. But surely he wouldn’t...
“You are also quite fortunate that I am unwilling to allow Minerva and Poppy to determine your fate,” Dumbledore continued, “They do not look kindly upon the damage you have done to Mr Potter and his wife’s reputations.
“Nor do I... but I am more forgiving than they... You will find that we can keep you here quite comfortably for the time-being, until such a time as the Wizengamot sees fit to unseat the current Minister and imprison her for her crimes - unless she perishes first.
“Until then, the House Elves of Hogwarts will look after you. They have been ordered to do you no harm - which is good, because some of them are quite friendly with the Potters who treat them very well.
“You would do well to remember that this cell is enchanted to prevent animagus transformations. Though should the enchantment waver, you should also know that the House Elves are very fastidious when it comes to pest control - and I may have forgotten to mention your animagus form to them...”
Pink wisps of cloud faded into darkness as the setting sun fell behind the mountains. The tops of the tall hedges which made up the maze could only just be seen above the shroud of mist. As the host of students, staff, and visitors made their way to the stands, once again Harry wondered what they expected to see.
Fleur gave Dora a kiss before following Harry to the gate. Dora sighed resignedly and found a seat at the end of the row where the rest of the Potters’ friends were seated. In all of the hubbub, none of the other students thought to wonder where Hermione was. Ginny and Luna, Lavender, Parvati, and Daphne knew, but they had all been sworn to secrecy.
Hermione stood still and quiet under the invisibility cloak next to Harry and Fleur by the gate to the maze, though it wasn’t really necessary as the noise of the crowd in the stands and the ominous purple shadows of dusk provided distraction and cover. Oddly, Mad Eye appeared able to see her, but he winked and said nothing. This time Hermione was certain that his eye could see through invisibility cloaks.
Percy Weasley smirked nastily at Harry from his seat in the judges’ station. Bagman grinned, sure that this time he would hit the jackpot - but if not, he knew the Ministry’s coffers would cover his losses. Bagman stood up and counted down. The crowd roared when he fired red sparks from the starting wand.
Trepidation set in as Harry darted into the maze with his invisible Hermione, followed closely behind by Fleur. Cautiously the three of them crept down the aisle until they were enveloped by the dark shadows of the hedges, well over six metres tall, and they waited for Cedric and Viktor to join them...
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