HP: Spirit Talker

-Now that we're done with the rules, I would like to add something on behalf of the British Ministry of Magic and myself: young men, champions, we understand your desire to win and glorify your school, to immortalize your name in the history books and the hearts of the wizarding population, but you must remember what the tournament was founded for. — Barty Crouch Sr. frowned at the four of us, staring into each of our eyes for a few seconds before moving on to the next contestant.

— The Triwizard Tournament was founded to demonstrate to the younger generation a simple concept: Wizards and wizards from other countries and schools are no different from us, we are all human beings with magic, which means we can communicate normally, at least temporarily setting aside our differences. The tournament was meant to create a point of dialogue, and therefore we ask you, masters, not to destroy the friendship that we have all managed to build during the tournament, not to spoil the atmosphere of mutual understanding that has been created between all of us with unnecessary sacrifices and insults. ....

Barty went on for quite a while, and I prepared myself for the exact opposite of what the man was saying. After I'd intervened in Crouch's situation, Barty, to my surprise, hadn't become very active in the ministry, but had been a little more preoccupied with his own duties, and after the wedding he'd taken a leave of absence, so I'd never been able to get in touch with him. This man was very cunning: he did not violate our agreement and his vows, but at the same time he tried to exclude any possibility of my communicating my "requests" to him.

Yes, I was "offended", so if I get a chance I'll take revenge, but I won't do it intentionally — I have plenty of other things to do. But since I couldn't get in touch with Crouch, I had to turn to Bones and strain her, because I didn't want to repeat the original story, and on the other hand, I couldn't even make any hints except "I have a bad feeling, the Force is whispering...", so I had to "negotiate". In general, there were as many Aurors for the last test as there had been for the previous two combined, three dozen wizards of medium professionalism and three more experienced commanders.

To hint at the professors, that is, to talk about Moody's replacement, I could not do at all, simply because I had no explanations for my silence, well, no clear ones that would be believed by a witch who had risen high enough in the chauvinistic society of Britain. Of course, not to prepare myself — a complete nonsense, on the other hand, at the third test not even an amulet "for luck" with a drop of magic could be carried, and therefore I had to twist my brain and remember-think-think-think. Not only did I have to protect myself, I had to protect Fleur, and Potter was just a kid who couldn't do anything good, even though he was trying to learn.

.... — Young men, I wish you good luck and may the best man win! — Crouch said rather dryly and primly, lifting his hat over his head and leaving.

I noticed Fleur twitch in my direction, but she shook her head and stepped aside. Potter frowned, too, and Kram frowned and looked around. Well, they all agreed, everyone had prepared as much as they could without breaking the rules... too much. Who could blame the local mages for not having any spells to detect tsukumogami or just things that spirits came in contact with?

Fleur, for example, has a beautiful dragon hairpin in her hair, and there are spiders waiting in the pockets of her leather brigantine jacket. Both the girl and Harry wore Omamori amulets around their necks, protecting them from weak curses, evil eyes, and evil little ghosts. Practically no magic, except for a little bit, which is why they were allowed (with a strong squeak) — "for luck".

I wanted to replace the wands with them, but they both categorically refused — oh, these traditions! And okay, Fleur — her wand fits her, really fits her, though not perfectly, but still, in time, under the influence of Vayla's magic, the wand will be able to produce a hundred percent efficiency, unlike Potter. The guy has a clearly pronounced "Neutral", with a bias towards "Light" magic, "Fire" and "Destruction" are not very close there, as well as any other specific still magic. He needs to learn runes and the theory of weaving energy modules, and he would make an excellent artifactor/chimerologist/sealer, but what he has is what he has.

Let his future wives puzzle over that. Oh yeah, I can't wait for the guy to figure out the meaning of the contract he was discussing with Bulstrode, and he's not going to leave Arleth anyway — there's so much love there, it's a little enviable.

— BABAH!

Everyone who knew the rules looked at Mr. Filch, who had once again fired the cannon prematurely, during the speech of one of the... it didn't matter who was ruining the air with his speeches. The main thing was that the only girl among the participants ran forward. Against my will, I looked at what was under her back for a while.

The view, I'll tell you, was mesmerizing — after all, Fleur had been riding horses since she was a child, and her legs weren't wheeled at all (no need to exaggerate, and money for a family doctor is very important), but very slender, beautiful, pumped up, and where they came from was praise above all.

— Mr. Hoshino, you're on in three minutes! Get ready! — Bumblebee excitedly shouted, and I just nodded. Silently.

Bagman is generally overly active, and many who see him are infected by his enthusiasm, or just smile. Despite the darkness of the day, the damp chill, and the fog that slowly but inevitably enveloped the neighborhood, the party was a success. The orchestra blew brass and beat out uncomplicated rhythms, vendors served hot tea, coffee, weak alcohol, and all sorts of tasty but not always useful things. The laughter of adults and children was everywhere.

For these people, the participation of teenagers in a deadly undertaking was a rare and therefore very expensive entertainment, one that even the Weasleys could afford, let alone the Malfoys or the Greengrasses and other, other, other guests, including those from abroad. I don't remember how it was in the original story, but it wasn't just a bunch of local talent who were interested, there were a lot of guests from a lot of countries, and there was a lot of competition for tickets. What it cost me to break through the quota for each participant in the number of several tickets for family and friends — it is impossible to convey in words.

The good thing was that I wasn't the one doing it, I mean I just "let it go" and Lizzie and the others were already working. Of course, it wouldn't have worked without the help of more important people, so I sent a few letters to people who could put pressure on our greedy ministry, and Fleur, for her part, threw a fishing rod to her father, who, with the dexterity of an experienced juggler, pulled it all off in one day, and the next day I was told how pleased the British officials were with the new French initiative, especially since the Malfoys and Greengrasses were also demanding something of the sort.

So, before my men could do anything, the entire Fleur family was in the stands, including their guests: the entire younger generation of Dunois, without parents, actually. Harry gave his tickets to Arlette, so we had the support of the current Massenet family as well; the rest of the tickets Harry wanted to give to the Weasleys, but Dumbledore had spent them and didn't know what to do with them (for some reason he didn't think of speculating) until I offered to buy them back.

Thanks to that, two of the tickets went to the Greengrasses, and I sent two to the Malfoys, who were a big help in getting them. The last three tickets went to Nanao, Junko and Lizzie... but that doesn't mean I couldn't buy tickets, does it? In short, all my relatives and friends who wanted tickets got them, the main difference being that the tickets were tracked, so the Ministry knew who had given them to whom, but tickets that were just bought didn't have that feature.