"Your official statement has been that your name was entered without your knowledge and consent, is this correct? Could you elaborate on that?" Another reporter asked.
"Yeah sure," Harry said. He was trying to replicate Sirius' calm demeanor, but he had never been interviewed before, and the pressure of answering another thing wrong made Harry's brain empty out. As much as he wanted to think about what he was about to say, Harry completely forgot the English language at that moment and all he could do was babble out some more stream-of-conscious thoughts.
"Um, so I did not try to enter because of the age line and because Sirius and my mum thought it would be dangerous. I've had enough excitement as is, so I planned to play in the Quidditch tournament with the rest of the Gryffindor team and that was it. As to how I got entered, I can't say for certain. I know that after the terrible attack at the World Cup we suspected that it was Vol- er, You-Know-Who behind it and I knew I had to be extra careful in case any of his supporters attacked me this year. So if I had to guess, I'd say it was definitely him."
There was a moment of stunned silence. Fudge drew in a harsh breath and turned to Harry with a strangled expression. Dumbledore sighed like he hadn't slept in a week.
"Excusez-moi, Monsieur Potter, you are saying that you believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned?"
"No, no he is not -" Fudge said urgently.
"Er, yeah. I am. I don't have any proof except what we all witnessed at the World Cup, and I don't say this to incite panic or anything, but I'm pretty sure he's trying to regain his power. If not him literally, then his Death Eaters at least, which I think is just as dangerous."
"Minister," the French woman continued. "You have insisted that this attack had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, no?"
"That is the official response from the Ministry per the investigation -"
"You have assured the French people that our children would be safe in your country, is this no longer true?" A very large, angry journalist shouted, looking like he might wrangle Fudge's neck if he answered wrong.
Fudge stammered. "As per the investigation -"
"Lord Black, you served as an auror during the last war, correct sir? What is your opinion?" Someone else shouted over Fudge. The Minister leaned across to say something to Sirius, his face smudged with red anger. But at that moment, by pure happenstance and not at all on purpose, Dumbledore blocked his view from the rest of them.
Sirius was normally light-hearted and jovial, but in moments like these, clad in fine robes and having complete control over the crowd before uttering a single word, Harry thought his godfather could be rather intimidating. Sirius released a familiar, impish grin, and he saw Fudge tense at the worrisome gesture.
"In my opinion, they were Death Eaters. They wore the same uniforms, including their infamous bone masks. They raised the Dark Mark and tortured muggles and muggleborns. They used similar techniques as used in raids in the previous war: runework mixed with potions for large-scale disasters and avoiding close-range combat. The one culprit killed during the attack was tried as a Death Eater during the last war - he pled innocent by Imperius but clearly he kept the robes. So yes, I believe that it was Death Eaters who arranged the attack. Now whether or not Voldemort himself was involved - " The crowd murmured in shock and horror at his casual use of the name. " - I cannot confirm. I cannot deny either. That his remaining forces would spontaneously and without outside influence plan out an attack of that scale is unlikely to me. We should be alert for further escalation."
The reporters buzzed like a swarm of angry bees rushing after the scent of honey - or a good story - lingering in the air.
"The name of the deceased assailant was not released to the public!"
"Yeah, but I killed him," Sirius said with a shrug. "So I know who he is. His name was Bulbous Crabbe."
"This all very interesting I'm sure, but we aren't here to interview Mr. Black!" Fudge insisted.
"Feel free to owl me for a comment," Sirius said with a cheeky grin. The reporters, sharp-eyed and willing to take Sirius up on that offer, settled into a riotous bout of frantic note-taking and whispered conversation.
"Wow. Look at the time. Our champions have lessons to return to, don't they?" Fudge said. Sirius took the invitation to steer Harry away from the crowd over towards where the other champions were waiting, ignoring the angry calls from Fudge following after them. The four of them fled as the journalists turned their ire back onto the Minister and slipped into the blissful quiet of the hall.
"Will you be alright from here, love?" Sirius asked. "I need to owl the solicitor after all that mess."
"Yeah, thanks a ton Sirius."
"Lord Black," Viktor inclined his head. "Good to see you again."
"You too. I'd say I'm rooting for you but," he patted Harry's shoulder. "Miss Delacour, congrats to you as well. Good luck to you both. Harry, I'll see you soon, take care." He took off down the hall.
"I have not realized that Lord Black had a child, and that child was you, Potter. You will do better than I think. He is good duelist and politician." Harry blushed at the assumption that Sirius was his father, but did not bother to correct him.
"He mentioned that you two met at the World Cup. Is your injury better?"
"Da, is well healed, thank you."
"We have not been properly introduced. It is nice to meet you." Fleur said. "It's not fair that they are forcing you to compete."
"It is what it is," Harry shrugged as he shook hands with them both. "Just promise you won't go easy on me."
"May not matter. It is how you say, political stunt," Viktor said. "Game always rigged, I think. I am famous, you are famous. You, Delacour?"
"Fleur is fine, both of you. And I suppose? My father is in the parliament. He is important in France, oui. It is a great honor that it is his daughter who has been chosen…"
"Da! Exactly. We make government look good. Winner may already be picked, may not." Viktor said.
.....
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