AN: Hi everyone, glad to see you guys are enjoying the story so far. We hit 100 POWERSTONES so here's the BONUS chapter- enjoy!
"Your theory," he said eventually, "could very well be - in fact, I believe that it most likely is - correct."
Harry let out a slow breath. "Then we stop it."
"It is not quite so simple," Dumbledore replied. He looked at Blake with something akin to acknowledgement.
The Slytherin boy nodded.
"If we make a move, Voldemort will just retreat and go into hiding for Merlin knows years long."
"Precisely," Dumbledore said.
"Versus now," Blake continued. "If we know what's happening, we can control everything - make sure no one gets hurt, maybe catch some Death Eaters, gain some valuable info - hit them when they're not ready and start the war on the front foot."
Harry looked between them with an expression Blake recognised - the specific look of someone who has understood what's being said and doesn't like it at all.
"You're both talking about letting it happen," Harry said.
"Yes," Blake responded simply. "But it's the best option we have."
"Not from where I'm sitting," Harry scowled. "I'm the one that'll have to face him."
His voice was level but there was something solid underneath it.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, gently. "Nothing happens without your agreement. If you say no, we act tonight. That is the truth. Lord Voldemort will need you to revive himself - the imposter wouldn't have gone to such lengths otherwise. But if you don't wish to do this, you don't have to - you have my word."
Harry looked at Dumbledore for a long moment. Then at Blake.
Blake said nothing. It wouldn't be fair to make this easier than it was.
"He's coming back," Harry muttered quietly, mostly to himself. "No matter what."
Nobody answered because nobody needed to. Blake decided that perhaps Harry needed just a little bit of encouragement.
"If this happens," Blake began, "and Pettigrew's there, we can clear Sirius, Harry."
Like clockwork, Harry perked up instantly.
"Pettigrew," Dumbledore promised, and all the warmth was entirely gone from his voice on that name, "is my first priority. You have my word, Harry."
"Sirius gets a trial," Harry said, looking at him directly. "A proper one. Immediately. The moment you have Pettigrew."
"The moment Peter is in Ministry custody," Dumbledore agreed, "Sirius has his trial. I promise you that."
Blake watched Harry's face go through several things quietly.
"What do you need me to do?" Harry said, sighing.
Something in Blake's chest eased considerably.
"Several things," Dumbledore said. The twinkle came back, fractionally, which meant he'd been thinking about this for considerably longer than this conversation and was glad to finally be having it openly. "First - I'm going to teach you to send a message by Patronus. A spoken one, carried by the Patronus itself. If you're transported somewhere, it may be the only way to communicate your location before Voldemort understands what's happened."
"Transported?" Harry asked.
"I suspect that the imposter hopes for you to reach the Trizard Tournament Cup - he's likely made it into a Portkey. That would explain why he asked me if he could take the Cup down to the maze on the day."
"He won't notice the Patronus?" Blake said doubtfully.
"In the first moments of his return," Dumbledore said, "I believe he will be rather occupied with other things. His arrogance will work against him there." He paused. "Second - the Ministry must be present when it happens. Witnesses who cannot later be argued with. Which means Cornelius, or at the very least high ranking Ministry officials - need to be at the task."
"How?"
"I'll manage Cornelius," Dumbledore said, in the measured tone of someone who has been managing Fudge for a very long time and has largely made peace with the tedium of it. "Third -" He looked at Blake directly.
"Fake Moody," Blake said. "Whoever's in that office needs to be occupied during the task. If I'm right and the real Moody's been imprisoned somewhere in there all year - I can get to the office while the impersonator is watching the Third Task, and free the real Moody. Once that happens, either you or us can deal with the imposter, depending on the situation."
"That," Dumbledore said, with the specific gentleness of someone delivering a serious concern as lightly as they can manage, "is an extremely dangerous plan for a fourth year student."
"It needs to be someone capable of fighting if needed, but also in a situation that the imposter won't notice if they're gone. You can't ask any Ministry officials to do it, because they'll be occupied or suspicious or called out for it, and the teachers have to be present there. Who else do you know that can arrange that?"
A pause.
"Very well. There is one further consideration," Dumbledore conceded. "However this resolves - the account of events must make absolutely clear that our actions were taken to minimise harm and expose Voldemort, not to facilitate his return. No one must be able to claim afterward that we knew and chose to allow it."
"Agreed," Blake said immediately. "Completely. And that applies to you most of all, Harry."
Harry was looking at the desk. "Cedric," he said suddenly.
Blake had been expecting that.
"He's in second place," Harry explained. "If something goes wrong with the timing, if he gets to the cup first - or any other champions-"
"We'll talk to him," Blake promised. "Just us two. He'll listen."
"He'll want to know why."
"I know. He'll trust us anyway. He's Cedric."
Dumbledore looked between them for a moment, something warm and slightly sad in his expression. "I believe you're right about that," he said.
They said goodnight and left, and walked back through the corridors in silence for a while.
"Blake," Harry said eventually.
"Yeah."
"If this goes wrong -"
"It's not going to go wrong," Blake said.
"But if it does."
Blake looked at him. "It won't, Harry. I - we - won't let it."
Harry was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded, once, and they went their separate ways at the foot of the stairs.
Blake walked back to the dungeons alone, thinking about Crouch Junior and the office on the third floor and Harry walking into that maze in however many weeks it was now.
It's going to work, he thought.
He was going to make absolutely sure it worked.
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