The Changeling

Be·friend- act as a friend (to someone) by offering help or support

International Confederation of Wizards Headquarters, New York, America

Marvolo kept the relaxed position he had been in for the last two hours or so of listening to the group of important lords and ladies arguing, even as his eyes were narrowed on where Dumbledore stood, as the old man was plotting something in suggesting this ridiculous idea.

Deciding to at least try to prevent the man, he stood calmly and opened his arms, the speakers for the International Confederation of Wizards then slowly starting to cut off the outgoing sound for their panels to speak amongst themselves.

"Lords and Ladies, I don't believe that this tournament is any more conducive to making the political atmosphere between schools lighter than shoving the headmasters of all three in a closet and having them try to talk out why they hate each other. It is a pride contest that puts the lives of children at risk when we should be focusing on education."

Albus Dumbledore's smile wavered just barely, holding up a hand from the opposite side of the Britain panel as he opposed Marvolo. Sending him a patronizing smile, he turned to the conference of wizards. "Lords and Ladies, this is not the dark ages! We've advanced! Imagine the excitement of the students and how lucky the winner will be! This is a stepping stone in a child's life, a possibility for the next generation to prove themselves!"

"If they don't die, that is." His voice was a sullen mutter, knowing he wouldn't win this, as none of the panels he could reach with logic were in the tournament and he knew the French and Bulgarian Ministers would be all for the chance to claim pride for their respective 'elite' schools. Not to mention that Dumbledore was the Supreme Mugwump- able to bend the rules as he liked.

What a farce.

Dumbledore chuckled jovially as if his thought was impossible. "I will have wards and protections outfitted by Gringotts so that we know our students will be safe if you are so worried, Mr. Slytherin. I almost expect you to next tell us you are concerned about a hidden child of your own, as you seem rather worried for someone so usually unflappable."

He could tell that some groups laughed, that others did not find the joke in taste, as many of the contingents had very strong feelings about protecting their countries' children that he agreed with.

Marvolo just gave a smile that was more of a grimace and sat back down lazily even though his voice still carried through the hall. "I am not hiding children, but since I know you are, tell me... where is the Golden Boy you promised Britain?"

One of the Japanese officials he quite appreciated for his dry humor (and mutual dislike of Dumbledore) stood with a thin smile. "Yes, you speak of a Dark Lord rising again soon in your country, of a boy who you are mentoring under some prophecy that has incredible powers and though we all are watching, we have yet to see any sign of either. Where is this Harry Potter? And why has the Dark Lord Voldemort been so quiet and peaceful if he is back?" The man pursed his lips. "We all remember the destruction and chaos Voldemort brought your country, but he was bested by Harry Potter. Shouldn't he be dead?"

"He is." There was a voice not from any contingent, but from the door where a veiled figure wearing long silver draping robes seemed to float forward as if some being above what they knew. "Voldemort is dead, replaced with an actual Dark Lord who fits the title much better."

Dumbledore looked incensed. "State your name before the Supreme Mugwump or be removed from these chambers with your lies!"

A soft laugh rang through the room, the figure seeming to turn slowly, looking around the room slowly. "I am merely a passerby- a figment of the past trying to warn the future- and as such, I have no name to give." The figure held up a finger when Dumbledore went to speak, cocking its head slightly to the side. "Albus Dumbledore... what season do you fear most?"