His Guardian Angel

Chapter 4

The Triwizard Tournament. What a ridiculous idea. So it was absolutely gut-wrenching to hear Dumbledore call out his name.

In the room with the other champions, he felt cornered. They couldn't believe that he, only a thirteen year old, had been picked. He hadn't even considered putting his name in! It violated the rules-he was underage and, in addition, there could only be one champion per school. He hid in a corner of the room he had been directed to until the headmasters and headmistress walked in. They were arguing, both Madam Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff were convinced that Dumbledore wanted the upper edge in the tournament.

"Um...excuse me? I know this may be hard to believe, but I truly don't want to be involved with this." Everyone burst into exclamations of fraud and cheating and no one quieted down until Mr. Crouch blasted sparks into the air.

"I'm afraid the rules state he has to participate. The age restriction was put on after the cup was originally enchanted. Harry Potter will be the fourth champion." Harry felt his eyes burning and did his best to push down his fear for now. His heart felt like it had just fallen through his feet and into the dungeons below, but he struggled to keep ahold of himself. He could collapse later.

"Mr. Crouch?" He practically had to shout to get the ministry employee's attention. "May I have a copy of the rule book? I didn't get one earlier when they were out in the great hall because I didn't think I'd need one." Mr. Crouch nodded curtly and handed him a copy before Harry turned and snuck out of the chaotic room.

He turned a corner to get out into the main hall and practically ran right into Professor Snape. He wasn't at all surprised to see the man sneering with his arms folded across his chest.

"Potter. My office. Now." Harry went willingly, glad to have an excuse for being late to the common room. With any luck, Snape would give him a late detention scrubbing cauldrons and everyone else would be asleep by then. He could use some manual labor to work out the fear and frustration he felt at the entire situation anyway.

Professor Snape didn't say a word as they made their way to his office.

"Sit." Snape got himself a glass of amber liquid and a cup of tea for Harry. "Now, tell me the truth. Did you enter your name into the goblet?"

"No sir, I didn't. And I didn't ask anyone else to either, I want nothing to do with it! I'm terrified..." He trailed off in a quiet voice, suddenly overcome with how much he feared having to participate.

"I trust you have the rule book?" Harry nodded and held up the thin book that Mr. Crouch had given him. Snape tutted, much to Harry's shock.

"That will never do. The full rule book is much larger." Snape summoned a large tome from the bookshelf behind him. It smacked the table with a rather loud sound and a small amount of dust spiraled around them. Flipping through the pages, Snape continued talking.

"It says here that each champion may select only one person to assist them through the tournament. It cannot be the headmaster or headmistress, nor can it be someone on the judging panel. But other than that, you have free reign on who can help you through this."

"But sir, why are you telling me this?"

"I shall assist you." At the look Harry had given him, Snape snapped the book shut, spewing more dust around. "Not a word of this conversation leaves this room from here on out. The headmaster trusts me, does he not?" Harry nodded. "And you trust me, do you not?" He nodded again. Against all odds, he did trust Professor Snape. Especially after the basilisk incident.

"Good. I'm asking that you simply trust me on this. I've got a fairly good idea what the tasks will be and I've only got so much time in which to prepare you for them. Now, be back here at five in the morning tomorrow. I expect to see you in clothing that you can move around in."