The Necromancer

Chapter 16

“Now, now, Mr Potter,” Dumbledore said with a disapproving frown. “There is no need for such language.”

Harry looked around the room with narrowed eyes until he finally stared at Dumbledore. “There is every reason for such language seeing as I was just kidnapped from my own home by your bird.”

Dumbledore laughed as though Harry had just told the funniest joke he’d heard all week. “If you’d bothered to arrive on time for the Wand Weighing Ceremony, I needn’t have sent Fawkes to fetch you.”

Something dark and primal stirred in Harry’s gut, feral magic that desperately wanted to lash out and put everyone in the room on their behinds for their sheer insolence. Harry took a few large steps towards the old man until he stood toe to toe with him. Harry had a few inches on Dumbledore and looked down at him, knowing his eyes must be glowing from his inner magical turmoil.

“If someone had bothered to let me know there was a meeting today, I would have been here on time, I assure you. But no one has yet told me one fucking thing about this tournament, which you entered me into illegally and involuntarily.” If possible, Harry leaned even closer to Dumbledore, looming over him. Dumbledore’s genial expression morphed into something new, something between fury and fear, and Harry relished it. “Know this, Mr Dumbledore. If you ever dare to send your bird to kidnap me again, I will see it as the act of aggression that it is, and I will respond in kind, is that understood?”

“Perfectly,” Dumbledore whispered, blue eyes having lost their twinkle entirely.

“I am not one of your students that you can use as a puppet for your entertainment,” Harry added, barely above a whisper. “You’d do well to remember that.” And with that Harry took a few steps away from the old man.

Dumbledore inhaled a deep, shuddering breath and then raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and addressed the other, obviously shocked, occupants of the room. “Merely a misunderstanding, I assure you. All is fine.”

“Mr Potter,” Bartemius Crouch said before briefly clearing his throat. “I apologize for the oversight, but usually the students’ Head of House or Headmaster informs them of the schedule. Obviously, you have neither, and we should have realized that. I will personally send you a complete schedule of the tournament this afternoon.”

Harry had calmed down a little and he gave Crouch a big grin. “That, and a complete rulebook, would be much appreciated.” Harry briefly glared at Dumbledore before addressing Crouch again. “And seeing how Dumbledore finally decided to remove the illegal mail ward he had on me, I should even be able to receive your mail.”

“Perhaps it’s time to start the ceremony,” Dumbledore said quickly before anyone could react to that unexpected revelation. “Champions, over here. Mr Ollivander, if you’re ready.”

Harry stood to the side, letting the other champions go first. V sat on his shoulder and gave Fawkes the phoenix narrow-eyed looks. “Bad bird, bad bird.”

“We’ll put up some wards to keep that thing out, don’t worry,” Harry whispered to his companion.

Ollivander, the wandmaker who had all but kicked Harry out of his shop a couple of weeks before, examined all the champion’s wands in a ceremony that was not only dreadfully boring but also a complete waste of time.