Advocate

The Tri-Wizard tournament was meant to be a celebration of the peaceful cooperation of three of Europe's greatest wizarding institutions of learning: Hogwarts for England, Beauxbatons for France, and Durmstrang for…wherever Durmstrang was located, honestly, nobody that wasn't an alumnus could say and nobody who was one would tell.

For centuries, the tournament stood as a great symbol that despite the differences of their home countries, people could come together in the spirit of peace, education, and competition. At least they could until over a century ago, when a terrible tragedy had occurred in the final event which ended in the tragic deaths of the referee…and two of the competitors…and three of the judges … and a dozen government officials…and three hundred spectators…and might have caused the total extinction of the crumpled-horn snorkack, reports are sketchy as to that detail.

Albus Dumbledore did not care about that last part, he was focused solely on bringing the tournament back to reaffirm the ties of the magical institutions of learning, to promote peace in these troubled times, and definitely, definitely not to use the other two headmasters like drug mules to score that good foreign candy. It had taken him years but finally, finally all of the details had been worked out and representatives from all three schools were together under his roof to compete for school pride, fame, and eternal glory. Everything was coming up Dumbledore, it was great, it was fantastic…and then the Goblet of Fire spat out a fourth name, putting the proverbial turd in Dumbledore's punch bowl.

All of Dumbledore's plans had almost literally gone up in smoke when Harry Potter's name had been spat out. He honestly did not know how that had happened, but it did and now he had been spending the past couple weeks putting fires out…or trying to restart the Goblet of Fire to fix this. So far, no dice. He was trying his best to help Harry and then…Harry left. Somehow, Harry had found a way to leave Hogwarts shortly after his name had emerged from the goblet and nobody had seen him since.

Albus had been able to prevent the news from leaking…for about a day before it had become the headline news story for The Daily Prophet, somehow Rita Skeeter had managed to find out the details and publish the story. Since then Dumbledore had been dealing with the press and the public constantly hounding him for details…fortunately as the one in control of the wards, he could keep most of them from setting foot in Hogwarts and at worst they could only send a Howler to him. A Howler which, with a flick of his unusually powerful wand, would be transfigured and live a long, happy life as a seagull, a practice Dumbledore had been doing all his life. But now, Albus had been forced after somebody important had the brought idea to allow the Press to attend the Weighing of the Wands tomorrow.

'Oh well,' Albus thought, 'At least we were able to limit it to just one reporter from The Daily Prophet, which should be the only paper that would bother sending anybody, although that will probably mean Skeeter will be around. At least we are guaranteed to get Harry back for the event. I'll just make sure to get him alone for a few moments to see reason.' Albus smiled to himself, 'Tomorrow things will get better.'

~~~ (THE NEXT DAY) ~~~

Albus whistled happily to himself as he walked down to the Entrance Hall where Hagrid should have brought Skeeter and her photographer and Mr. Ollivander. As he turned the corner, he stopped and stared as the Entrance Hall was filled with dozens of reporters and the overwhelmed Keeper of the Keys and Grounds.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid shouted in relief in sight of his boss and quickly moved to his side before anybody could stop him (like any of them could).

"What are all of you doing here?" Dumbledore asked/shouted to the crowd as the other two Headmasters made their appearance.

"They've all got press credentials, Professor!" Hagrid explained, "Big badges that say 'PRESS' on them…some on their hats!" Indeed, everybody but Rita Skeeter and her photographer and Mr. Ollivander were all carrying press passes and in some cases wearing big hats that said PRESS on one side. "They're from all over the world, even Wales!"

"It looks like we shall have to make some adjustments," Dumbledore said calmly, while internally screaming. And then with a gesture, he silenced the crowd and continued, slightly louder so all could hear him clearly. "As we have more members of the Press than we were expecting, we shall have to make a slight delay to accommodate you all and to allow Mr. Ollivander to set up his instruments." He gestured again so the crowd couldn't hear him as he turned to his fellow Headmasters and Hagrid. "We shall move the ceremony to the Great Hall; it shouldn't interfere too much with the rest of the proceedings. Hagrid and I shall take care of this and if you two will bring your students, we should be set."

"What about Potter?" Karkaroff asked.

"Mr. Potter has received the notice of where and when to be here. If the proceedings should end without him, he knows the consequences." Dumbledore assured, half-lying because there was no guarantee that Harry had gotten the summons past the fanatical house elf Dobby's declarations of getting the letter to him. For some reason Fawkes just did not want to try and deliver it and owls outright refused…especially after the whole trying to get his initial letter to him fiasco.

It had taken some time to get everything set up, but finally things were looking more like they were in order. The house tables had been replaced by rows of chairs that were packed with members of the Press, and the Head Table had all of Mr. Ollivander and his equipment at one end and three of the contestants and the heads of their schools were present taking up the rest of their seats…Dumbledore claiming his throne before anybody else could even try. However, conspicuous by his absence was the much talked about fourth champion, "Harry Potter."

"I'm sure Mr. Potter is just running late and we do not want to take up all of your valuable time," Dumbledore announced with some reluctance. "Knowing him as well as I do, I know that Harry would not want us to wait for him. So we shall begin the proceedings."

In turn, the three school champions approached Mr. Ollivander who studied their wands for a few moments, announced the materials and maker in some case, made some comment or another, and performed a minor feat of magic with it. Several of the photographers took this opportunity to take individual shots of the champion with Mr. Ollivander. Interestingly, only the Daily Prophet's photographer was using a flash with his pictures, which was so strong that it momentarily blinded and surprised Mr. Ollivander. Unfortunately, in his blindness, Mr. Ollivander's wine making spell missed the goblet he was aiming at and instead hit the offending camera, ruining it, much to the rest of the Press's delight.

With three of the weighings out of the way and no sign of the fourth champion, the press conference portion began with the contestants and their headmasters fielding questions ranging from the typical, "How do you feel?" and "What is your game plan?" to the more personal "Who is your greatest competition?" and "What are your measurements?" Before Fleur could answer, the German journalist who asked was smacked on the top of his head by a rolled up umbrella and the question was withdrawn.

The other highlight was the fifteen minute long detour the conference took when one of the journalists asked the contestants and their headmasters their thoughts on the Rotfang conspiracy, which the British people in attendance ignored or wrote off because of who asked it, while everybody else seemed quite interested in hearing about it. An article about this would later appear on the front page of all of the other publications in attendance as the journalist in question, Xenophilius Lovegood of The Quibbler was interviewed about this at a subsequent press conference later that day.

After about another half an hour of the Press asking questions, the doors to the Great Hall opened and a portly man entered. He was bald on top with a ponytail at the back of his head and wore a very professional looking suit and tie in contrast to the various kinds of robes that everyone else was wearing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice booming and drawing every eye and ear to him, including several students who had been milling in the halls around waiting to see what was happening and echoing throughout Hogwarts itself, catching the attention of everyone within. "My name is Paul Heyman," his name echoed as if it was being spoken by a large crowd of people, "And I have the great pleasure in being the advocate for the most impressive young man I have every had the honor of knowing, Harry Potter." The crowd, entranced by his words, collectively realized that behind that man stood the fourth champion they had all been seeking. He looked much the same as he had before, but he gave off more of an air of intimidation than he had before. He was not dressed in a school uniform as the others were, instead, he wore sneakers with black track pants and T-shirt that bore a mark on them that looked like his famous scar on the front. As he and his advocate walked past the seated members of the Press, they noticed that he wore a robe over his shoulders like a cape and the backside was covered in the logos of several famous magical brands from America. A few photographers snapped out of the haze they were in long enough to get a shot of the famous wizard and his advocate as they passed.

Harry walked up to Mr. Ollivander and presented his wand to the wandmaker for the weighing, ignoring everyone around him, especially his former headmaster. Ollivander gave it the same test and returned it to its owner with a passing grade. A few braver members of the Press Corp. began to ask questions but were cut off by the words of Harry's advocate.

"My client, Harry Potter," Heyman paused between the names to emphasize the importance of his client's identity, "has been taken advantage of by his previous representation." Heyman spared a glance at Dumbledore that didn't go unnoticed by the Press. "Since my client's name came out of the Goblet of Fire under suspicious circumstances, nobody has found a conclusive reason as to why. My client, Harry Potter, has repeatedly proclaimed his innocence, but they have fallen on deaf ears both within this school and in the public. The local paper so far has done three things: the first is to speculate on how my client could have perpetrated this act and the second is to publish anonymous quotes from students within this school. My client and I have no objection to these, it is within your rights; however, we question the intelligence of both those who would allow rumors and speculation bordering on slander to become headline news and those who believe it. No, ladies and gentlemen, our main issue is with the third thing that the local papers have done and that is to 'quote' my client, Harry Potter." Heyman paused, the crowd was enraptured with his speech, the magic in his words had permeated the building and slowly every man, woman, child, and ghost had abandoned what they had been doing and filed into the Great Hall to listen to him speak.

"You may have noticed that I made air quotes when I said 'quote,'" Heyman continued. "That is because my client, Harry Potter, has never knowingly spoken with a member of the Press and yet he has been name dropped with increasing regularity over the past few weeks. It is because of these false quotations, my client, Harry Potter, along with his officially registered guardians have given me full permission to speak on his behalf. This means that from this point forward, all articles by any publication that claim to have spoken to my client, Harry Potter, are to be regarded as false, unless they have first requested and received permission from myself. And for those of you who do not know who I am or what experience I have in matters such as this, I shall repeat; my name is Paul Heyman and I am the man behind the lawsuit against Magical Monthly."

A gasp erupted from the American Press Corp., two years ago; Magical Monthly had posted several quotations that they had falsely attributed to one of North America's premiere potion masters, Heath Slater. These quotes had been used in an article to stir up public outrage which had unfortunately lead to the deaths of over a dozen witches and wizards in a horrible potions accident. Magical Monthly had been hit with a class action lawsuit lead by a representative for Mr. Slater and the families of the deceased. As a result, Magical Monthly was just barely making enough money to cover the costs of publishing and what once was the premiere magazine for news now was regarded as having less journalistic integrity that Bewitching Babes. Which as a sidebar, would be doing a disservice to associate the two, the interview sections of public figures alone have always been well worth the cover price of Bewitching Babes and that magazine has been cited as having made or broken many careers.

"And while I would enjoy continuing to proclaim my own accolades, the man that you have all come to learn about is my client, Harry Potter; the very same Harry Potter that ended the reign of terror of Britain's own Dark Lord, Voldemort." At the name, the British wizards flinched, the Europeans shuddered slightly at the rumors, the Americans nodded that they had heard of him, and the French wondered if any of the other groups knew that name was French. "The Dark Lord that had terrorized this country and left a wake of death and destruction; that is until he met my client, Harry Potter. There have been many who have talked about that day and speculated the how's and why's, but I myself want to talk about what happened. On that day, my client ended Voldemort's killing streak. My client, as a baby, defeated one of the most feared wizards in British history and I can go on and on about the things that he has actually done and not the fictional stories that others have written about him, but I shall only extoll the highlights. At the tender age of eleven in his first year at Hogwarts, my client, Harry Potter, had to fight not only a troll, but also a malevolent spirit that had possessed my client's first Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Quirinus Quirrell. In his second year, he stood alone against a thousand year old basilisk that had been responsible for the attacks that left several students, a cat, and a ghost petrified. In his third year, he came face to face with one of Voldemort's devout followers, the one who betrayed my client's parents, and then hid."

Everybody who thought they knew the story of Harry's last few years looked confused at those words.

"I see that some of you are confused that I have yet to say the name that is on of your lips, and that is because if I did, I would be perpetuating the falsehood that this country has been living under. A falsehood that my client tried to correct by speaking directly to the Minister of Magic and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, only to fall on deaf ears. It was only through the ineptitude of his guards, that an innocent man was able to escape a fate worse than death, being kissed by a Dementor." A shudder rippled through the crowd. "One of the unholy entities that are only used by Britain to personally guard their most dangerous prisoners…or in the case of last year, schoolchildren." The Press Corp. erupted in outrage at this, demanding answers of the only government official present, Albus Dumbledore, who at that moment was adding Mr. Heyman to his top list of enemies in the top five.

"I share your outrage," Heyman announced, silencing the crowd once more as their attention returned to him. "And I share the skepticism that no doubt many of you feel. I must admit I was surprised to hear of my client's feats and this news since I, like you all, have been constantly informed that the wards of this school are supposed to be second to none at protecting those within, and yet my client, Harry Potter, had evidence to confirm all of these events, but nobody would listen, instead the Minister of Magic proclaimed he must have been confounded because a teacher said so. No examinations, just, 'He's confounded,' 'I believe you.'" Heyman looked disgusted by this and his eyes briefly touched upon the seething visage of Severus Snape before returning to the crowd.

"But all that, ladies and gentlemen is the past, let us now talk about the present. My client, Harry Potter, swore before these assembled heads of their respective schools and representatives from the government that he did not enter himself into this contest and again they did not listen. And now surprisingly," the sarcasm dripped from his voice like honey from the comb, "after all of this, my client finds himself forcibly entered into a contest that was ended because it was deemed too violent and has a history of killing its participants. Despite his impassioned pleas, they ignored him, condemned him for daring to enter into a contest he did not want to, and are now forcing him to participate why impotently crying, 'There's no choice, he's got to do it.'" The crowd glared at the headmasters.

"And so, my client, Harry Potter, finds himself in an unenviable position: On one side, the forces of authority pushing him into a battle never wanted to be in; and on the other public opinion that routinely brands him as an attention seeking brat that aspires to be a Dark Lord, and oh yes, I guess there's also whatever these tasks are. So all of this adds up to one insurmountable challenge, and if there's one thing that I know ladies and gentlemen, is that my client, Harry Potter, has never backed down from a challenge. During this tournament, you will my client step up to whatever challenge is placed before him and he will destroy it. Because my client lives by a very simple motto: "Eat. Sleep. Bombarda. Repeat." With each word, the symbol on Harry's chest disappeared and was replaced by those four words in white.

"Eat. Sleep. Bombarda. Repeat. Eat. Sleep. Bombarda. Repeat." Others joined in, swept up in the fervor of the moment. "Eat. Sleep. Bombarda. Repeat. Eat. Sleep. Bombarda. Repeat. Eat. Sleep. Bombarda. Repeat. Eat. Sleep. Bombarda. Repeat." Heyman stopped his chanting, but the crowd continued, causing the words to echo through Hogwarts. The advocate glanced at his client who nodded back and the two of them marched out of the Great Hall, ignoring the questions thrown at them by members of the press, and continued confidently marching out of Hogwarts before anybody could stop them.

Author's Note: I dedicate this chapter to the man himself: Paul Heyman. I swear he could cut an entertaining promo out of a grocery list.

This is honestly, the most fun I've had writing in a long time. I studied the words of the promo master, I listened to them and I hope I've done him justice. The toughest part was deciding if Paul should bring up the whole Sirius Black thing and ultimately I decided, "Yes, but only enough to tantalize the crowd into wanting more," because that's what he would do. Will this get addressed in future chapters/one-shots? Probably not. Although I could see a whole future of Paul Heyman promos on the world of Harry Potter, I'm not the one to write those. Getting him right once was tough enough, anything else would ring hollow.