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HP: Second Chance

Once enemies, now united by circumstance, four wizards face a critical decision. Having lost faith in those close to them, they embark on a perilous journey. Rewinding time, their lives become solely their own. Donning masks, a new game begins from this moment onward. Playing: HP/FD, DM/DG, NL/MB, RW/AG, BC Jr/BL. Support me at: pat reon.com/FanFictionPremium

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37 Chs

Chapter 29

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Professor McGonagall was waiting for the champions to appear in the special room normally used on the first of September as a temporary entrance hall for prospective first-years. Minerva glanced nervously at the tiny daisy-shaped clock that could easily fit in the woman's clenched fist. The ten champions and their pairs were already in place, it was only a matter of waiting for the others to arrive and the opening of the ball could begin. Time passed, and the five missing champions were still missing. The Professor of Transfiguration only pressed her thin lips harder. The woman's irritation was growing by the second - she was a recognised Gryffindor and therefore could not stand to wait. Finally, exactly one minute before the ball was due to start, the doors of the room swung open and four couples entered. McGonagall pressed her lips together even more irritably, making them seem to have lost all their colour. Ignoring her, the late champions and their companions, approached those who had come into the room earlier. The greetings were interrupted by the displeased tone of the dean of the red-gold faculty, who recovered quickly enough from the realisation that her students had chosen partners belonging to the enemy house.

- Everyone, please break into pairs. You will enter the hall one at a time. The Durmstrang champions will be first, followed by the Charmbaton champions, then your team, Mr Potter. Yours, Miss Chang, will lead the way. When you enter, you will need to take your seats at the champions' table. It's in front of the professors' table. I think your name cards have already appeared on your table, so you should be seated accordingly. After the directors have made their speeches, the dinner will be served, and after the third change of dishes you will open the dancing part of the ball. Remember, the first dance is the classic waltz. Now please," McGonagall made a hand gesture towards the exit.

 Krum was the first to head for the door, leading his companion, who turned out to be one of the French champions. In general, the pairings turned out to be quite funny. Those who were not the cup favourites and therefore the companions of the champions were very few. Three of the four Bulgarians paired up with the three remaining Beauxbaton champions, the last one inviting Romilda Vane. The Gryffindor, though only in her second year, looked, it had to be admitted, spectacular. Chang and Thomas were already starting to assert themselves as a couple. Harry remembered well that in THAT life, the Chinese girl was still dating Cedric at this time. But NOW things had already changed, so Potter wasn't surprised at the breakup of the not even fully formed Chang-Diggory couple. Granger, with poorly concealed irritation glanced at her companion Cormac McLaglen, who, completely unashamed of anyone, was trying to stroke Hermione's heel. All in all, there could have been more non-champions, but there were only five - Vane, Maclagen, the Greengrass sisters and Millicent. Surely this will be a great disappointment to a certain bearded individual.

 The doors of the Great Hall swung open, revealing to the champions and their attendants their festive decorations. The walls of the hall were covered with a light, bluish hoarfrost and decorated with garlands of fir-tree paws, with silver and golden, large snowflakes hanging from them. Multicoloured, shimmering glitter fell from the ceiling, magically settling only on the floor. Twelve giant fir trees stood in a semicircle against one of the walls of the hall, shimmering in the light of hundreds of candles with the bright colours of balls and other toys. The wall opposite to it disappeared, becoming a passageway to the winter garden. The procession of the champions to their seats was accompanied by solemn music. It was an invited group of musicians playing on a small oval stage.

 Dumbledore watched the approach of the champions with a good-natured smile. He scrutinised their outfits with interest, noting the changes in the current style and the style that had been fashionable in the forties, when he had come to work at Hogwarts as a young man by the standards of wizards. Yes, the changes, as they say, were in evidence. In the days of his youth, girls had dressed much more modestly, showing almost no exposed body parts other than the face, neck, and hands. Older ladies, of course, could afford cleavage, but young ladies were not allowed to do so. Guys at that time were greedy to see if a lady's leg, covered in a translucent stocking and a handmade slipper, would glimpse from under the hem of a gown or dress. Watching and grasping such a moment immediately developed in their heads fantasies on the subject of the it's not like that anymore. Mores have changed, though the purebloods still try to adhere to them, though they do give their daughters a little more freedom....

 A lemon slice stuck in the old man's throat as he inhaled convulsively. The kind-hearted Madame Maxime patted Dumbledore on the back in an attempt to help him cough, but one thing she didn't take into account was that she clearly had more strength than the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Olympia's powerful clap between his shoulder blades sent Albus tumbling across the table and bumping his nose into the wine goblet. Ruby drops splashed in all directions, settling on the snow-white tablecloth, the robes of Dumbledore himself, Madame Maxime and Karkaroff, who sat on either side of the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

- Dumbeldog! - exclaimed the Headmistress of Charmbaton indignantly, trying unsuccessfully to shake off the drops of wine from the bodice that tightly encircled the breasts of her soft blue dress, thus drawing everyone's attention to their table.

 Harry smirked, knowing full well that it was their second appearance that had caused the incident at the teachers' table. From the moment he had crossed the threshold of the Great Hall, Potter-Evans had kept his gaze on the old man and saw the shock on his face when the 'image' blinked out.

- Madame Maxime has a heavy hand, doesn't she? - Fleur chuckled.

- 'I'd say VERY heavy,' came Draco's voice, walking arm in arm with Daphne behind Harry and Mademoiselle Delacourt.

 From behind them came the suppressed laughter of Ron, Neville and their companions. Many in the hall were laughing at Dumbledore as well, and the old man tried to bring himself to order as quickly as possible. He finally managed to do so, and rose to begin his speech. The champions had by this time just taken their seats at their assigned table. They didn't listen to what the senile old man was saying, staring at the crowd. Harry, Draco, Neville and Ron were pleasantly surprised that many of the Slytherin and Gryffindor students were paired up, something they had never dreamed of in their previous lives. Since the second part of the first trial, the students of the two formerly feuding faculties had been trying to catch up as quickly as possible. It seemed that some of the restraints that made them see only bad things in each other had come off. Though how to know, maybe they were those restraints in the form of potions, mental magic, specialised spells. "The Tigers, who knew well what Albus Dumbledore was capable of, couldn't rule out such a possibility. The festive dinner prepared by the housekeepers was magnificent. At the table of champions during the meal there were light, insignificant conversations about the weather, the nature of the participating countries, and so on. Only the Phoenixes did not take part in this conversation, although McLaggen did not pay any attention to the silence of the champion with whom he had come to the ball, he chatted for two. The language barrier created certain difficulties for communication, however, this was only in relation to the Bulgarian language. In French the "tigers" and their companions explained themselves quite well. But Draco and the Greengrass sisters were the best at it, not counting the Frenchwomen themselves, of course. The Bulgarians understood English, though they spoke it poorly, mangling the words terribly. But all this was smoothed out by their youth, desire to talk and good mood. As soon as the plates were empty, Dumbledore drew attention back to himself by announcing that it was time for the champions to open the dancing portion of the Holy Ball. As those pairing off to the dance floor, there was another embarrassment at the table where the professors, headmasters, and a few Ministry employees were seated. Dumbledore decided to have a word with the Potions Master, to whom he had so far paid no attention. Turning to Snape, he called out to him and immediately recoiled as the man turned his head towards him.

 For a moment, terror flashed in the old man's eyes, wild and unconcealed. Poking the potions master with a bony finger, Dumbledore hissed as loudly as a snake:

- What is this masquerade, Severus?

- I don't know what you mean, Headmaster? - A black eyebrow arched.

- Why are you dressed... as me? Why have you taken on my guise?

- Albus? Are you all right? - Karkaroff looked at Dumbledore worriedly.

- 'What do you think should be wrong with me, Igor? More likely it's Severus, gone mad. I could still understand a robe like mine, but why would you grow your hair and beard grey? - There was irritation in the old man's voice.

- Dumbeldog, what are you talking about? What grey hair, what beard, where did you see that? - Madame Maxime looked at the Hogwarts Headmaster as if he were insane.

- 'Yes, here, here, Olimpia. And here," the old man jabbed his finger above the potions master's head, but suddenly everything disappeared and Snape was himself again.

- Albus, what's this? - Karkaroff rose from his seat and took a step aside, as if afraid that Dumbledore would start poking at him as well.

 Realising that there was something wrong with his eyesight and what those around him might think of him, the Headmaster of Hogwarts tried to turn everything into a joke.

- Gotcha! - laughed happily and clapped his hands together. - I've played a wonderful joke on you. Really, Igor, Olympia?!

 The students and professors stared at the headmaster in amazement. Some of the students, without hiding, twirled their fingers at their temples. In the silence that had not had time to fill with the sounds of music after the announcement of the champions' dance, everyone heard every word of the three headmasters, while the champions themselves froze at the edge of the dance floor, some of them watching with hidden bewilderment and gloating at the next disgrace of their main enemy. It looked like their plan would come to fruition much sooner and there would be no need to start a war. Everything could be done quietly and discreetly.

 Dumbledore stopped "having fun" and gave the musicians a wave. He had to immediately turn his attention to something else, and try to understand what was happening to him. The music filled the room, and the champions danced to the sound of the waltz. Harry smiled as he looked at his partner, and she smiled back at him. The light, fluid movements were effortless, and now all the couple's attention was on each other. Emerald-green eyes did not let go of the sky-blue ones, the young man's thumb gently caressed the inside of the girl's fragile palm. It was obvious from the outside how much this couple loved each other. It seemed like just a little more and they would kiss, but suddenly something happened that startled many, if not most, of the students. A rich red beam struck the spot where Harry Potter had just been leading Fleur Delacour in a dance. The next second, the young wizard was already standing with his wand at his side, shoving the girl behind his back without much ado. A wave and a shimmering shield was in front of them. A moment, and four deafening curses flying from different sides of the dance floor hit Dumbledore, standing at the table with his wand pointed at the champions, in the chest.

 The holly ball was utterly ruined. The students were dispersed to their dormitories and Dumbledore was transported to the hospital wing. But his cries that the Death Eaters, along with Voldemort himself, had snuck into the ball under the werewolf potion and taken on the guise of the champions, could still be heard in the corridor outside Madam Pomfrey's fiefdom. The Aurors had been summoned to the school, and they appeared along with the members of the Board of Trustees and the Minister of Magic himself. The Champions were expected to be questioned, for none of the authorities could even imagine that such a respected magician as Albus Dumbledore was falling into senile dementia...