[114] Where Embers Sleep

Dumbledore looked troubled, his brow furrowed. He turned to Hall, his tone slightly pleading. "So I'd like to entrust you with protecting Harry. Of course, this isn't a free service." Having known Hall for a year, Dumbledore was well acquainted with his habits. With a flick of his wrist, a coin purse appeared in his hand, which he pushed towards Hall.

"You can also refuse," Dumbledore added, looking at the boy who appeared to be only twelve.

Hall smiled slightly, nodded, and accepted the coin purse.

Snape, standing nearby, let out a loud, cold snort. "Maybe he's just clever. Utterly foolish."

Dumbledore pretended not to hear, gesturing for Hall to confirm.

The moment Hall touched the coin purse, he could feel the considerable amount inside. A thousand Galleons. He looked up sharply at Dumbledore, surprised he was going to such lengths. The Triwizard Tournament prize was a thousand Galleons. But he quickly dismissed the thought. This was Harry — the child Dumbledore had risked his life to protect.

"Hall, this is only half the commission. I'll make up the other half after the tournament."

Hall understood. Dumbledore wanted him to give it his all. "Of course, Headmaster. Harry is my friend too. I'll definitely protect him."

Hall's smile was bright, but it only made Snape's face darken further.

"Sending my student to fight for him? That's really —" Snape began, his brow furrowed and lips pressed tightly together. But then a pair of green eyes flashed through his mind — the most tender memory deep within his heart — and the words died in his throat.

No one noticed the fleeting, conflicted expression on Snape's face.

As for Hall — only he knew how painfully he was suppressing a laugh. This was an absolute steal. Double pay for one job. There couldn't be a better deal.

Snape turned to look at Hall watching him cheerfully accept the coin purse. "Since you're going to participate, then show me what you've got, understand? Don't disgrace Slytherin."

"The Headmaster is right. Of course I'll fight for Slytherin's glory. Won't the Professor encourage me for that?" Hall shifted his focus to Snape, a confident smile playing on his lips.

Snape scoffed. "We'll see when you actually win the championship." His tone was still sarcastic, but his expression had softened considerably.

"Then it's a deal!" Hall said quickly, afraid Snape would change his mind.

"Alright, Hall. Your dear classmates are probably still waiting for you in the common room to celebrate." Dumbledore smiled kindly.

Hall waved. "Goodnight, Headmaster. Goodnight, Professor." He opened the door and walked out, mentally calculating. A small profit of a thousand Galleons in one night — sweet. And that was just what he had in hand. Harry's two hundred Galleons would be in his pocket tomorrow morning. And after the tournament, there was still Dumbledore's other thousand Galleons and whatever Snape would give.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

He hummed a tune as he walked towards the common room.

Back in his office, Sirius was like a beast trapped in a cage. His once bright eyes were now bloodshot, staring blankly ahead, seemingly without seeing anything. With each blink, scenes of the horrific events of past tournaments pierced his mind like sharp needles. Even with Lupin's comforting words beside him, Sirius couldn't calm down. His fingers tapped unconsciously on the table, the arrhythmic rhythm mirroring his pounding heart.

Harry was more important to Sirius than himself. He was the centre of his life. If Harry were a little older, perhaps Sirius wouldn't be so worried. But Harry was only twelve. Merlin. Sirius couldn't imagine how Harry could compete — with a Levitation Charm or a basic Transfiguration Charm? Those rudimentary magical skills were like a flickering candle against the perilous tournament.

"There are three minors this year," Lupin said. "Hall is about the same age as Harry. Perhaps the competition will be made easier?"

That name struck Sirius like a bolt of lightning. He jumped up from his chair, startling Lupin, who was organising his notes beside him. "Sirius? What's wrong?"

"Hall." Sirius's eyes lit up, as if he had found a glimmer of hope. Without hesitation, he strode towards the door, his robes billowing behind him.

"Sirius?" Lupin's confusion deepened. He dropped his notes and hurried after him. He couldn't understand why Sirius would react so strongly to Hall's name.

Sirius strode towards the Slytherin dungeons — a place he never bothered to visit. But as he drew near, he suddenly stopped. He thought about his previous attitude towards Hall, and an internal struggle began. How should he speak? What if Hall refused? The boy was indeed quite capable, but this was the Triwizard Tournament. Weasley was already impressive enough protecting himself — to also protect Harry, wasn't that too much to ask of a twelve-year-old?

Sirius paced back and forth, frantically running his hands through his hair.

"Sirius? What's wrong with you?" Lupin caught up, panting, his doubts deepening as he saw Sirius's agitated state.

Hall reached the Slytherin common room door, but a hand grabbed him and pulled him into a dark corridor. The campus was shrouded in stillness. Pale moonlight streamed through the windows, casting hazy shadows on the floor. The once familiar corridor appeared somewhat eerie in the dim light, and the portraits on the walls seemed to be snoring.

Hall looked over. It was Sirius, followed by Lupin, who was frowning.

"What's Professor Black doing so late at night?" Hall raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. He had a feeling Sirius had come about the same thing as Dumbledore.

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Sirius's face. His cheeks flushed slightly, and his eyes darted away. But the thought of Harry made him grit his teeth and press on.

"Hall, I know I wasn't nice to you before. But now I'm begging you — you must help Harry in the Triwizard Tournament. He's so young. He can't handle those dangers."

Hall crossed his arms and chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor. "Professor Black, I'm only a twelve-year-old student myself. Asking me to protect my classmate in such a dangerous competition is a bit much, isn't it?" He tilted his head, a sly glint in his eyes.

Sirius's cheeks flushed. He lowered his eyes, too embarrassed to meet Hall's gaze. He was also inwardly condemning himself. Though Hall was indeed quite capable, he was still just a child.

"Hall, yes —"

"It costs more."

Sirius froze, his mouth slightly agape. "Huh?!"

Lupin, who didn't know Hall well, looked between them in confusion.

Hall frowned slightly. Could it be that Sirius didn't want to spend money on Harry? Impossible. Didn't he always treat money like dirt?

Sirius snapped out of his daze and nodded hurriedly. "Okay, okay, I can do more. A thousand Galleons, is that alright?"

Hall's smile deepened. "Deal, Professor Black. Don't worry, I'll do my best to protect Harry in the Tournament." He patted Sirius's shoulder lightly, then turned and left.

Sirius's previously furrowed brow relaxed, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart.

---