The Hagrid's son

The next morning, everyone carried out the discussed plan and caught up on the "reliable" news from the newspapers, which, for once, seemed to give a fairly detailed and accurate description of what had happened.

"The Ministry must be going crazy, and Fudge must be foaming at the mouth—if he hasn't wet his pants," commented Tonks as she lowered her copy of The Daily Prophet with a relieved expression. "I don't even want to think about the workload the Aurors must be dealing with."

Suddenly, she was glad she had left just before all this happened.

"Yeah…" Barnaby responded distractedly as he assembled and placed a cabinet in its spot.

"Barnaby?"

"Oh, sorry," he apologized, snapping back to reality. "This morning, I received a letter from my father saying that the Triwizard Tournament will still be held at Hogwarts as planned, which seems quite odd to me."

He wasn't sure if Dumbledore was confident or if he thought that having three magical schools together would dissuade dark wizards from pulling any tricks. The former was more likely.

"It was Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute, right?" Tonks naturally knew about the tournament from her time at the Ministry.

In fact, there had been an unexpected request from Mahoutokoro to join the tournament, but it was ultimately rejected because there was suspicion that the Japanese princess had some dangerous idea in mind by insisting on participating.

"What bothers me is that, for the sake of greater 'neutrality,' I've been officially requested to assist with the tasks, at Dumbledore's recommendation. Considering what happened yesterday, I don't feel entirely comfortable with it," Barnaby admitted. "If it weren't for my father's stubbornness, I'd want him to move here for the time being as well."

But he knew that as long as Dumbledore was there, that was unlikely.

Besides, he had graduated from Hogwarts, so seeking him out under the pretense of "neutrality" was a complete load of…

"Did they make you sign a magical oath?" Tonks frowned, concerned. "Even though Ministry oaths are fairly neutral after many revisions over the years, there's always some loophole in them."

"I refused to sign anything they gave me. I only signed a contract I drafted myself, where the only condition was that I'd remain neutral in the creation of the tasks," Barnaby explained as he started assembling the next piece of furniture. "No favoritism, no private messages, no hints, or anything like that."

The magic of the oath was authentic and could be openly reviewed, so no one could challenge its neutrality. Barnaby believed that Dumbledore simply wanted to dump the task-creating work on him as revenge for the Molbol incident a few years ago.

"What are you planning for the tasks?" Tonks asked with great interest.

"I'm thinking of starting with something exciting and using some dragons, but I'm not exactly sure how yet," he shook his head, undecided. "Hunting them is out of the question. I need something a seventeen-year-old wizard or witch can achieve. And I don't have many dragons at the level they could handle…"

"Are they going to set an age limit this time?" Tonks noticed the detail about the age.

"Well, imagine if the champion of one of the schools turned out to be a first-year Muggle-born student, while the others have champions from the sixth or seventh year. With the intensity of the Tournament…" He let the words hang in the air, but the meaning was clear.

There had been precedents of deaths.

The age limit would anger many impulsive kids who would only see the excitement or the reward and not the risk, but at the same time, it reduced the pool to only the most advanced years and, therefore, those more experienced with various tricks up their sleeves, becoming legitimate candidates.

This made the tournament more entertaining and safer, something desperately sought after what happened at the Quidditch World Cup…

"And the second task?"

"Yeah… I'm drawing a blank," Barnaby scratched his head with his hand. "The first task is supposed to contain a clue for the second, so the champions can decipher it and prepare if they're able. But I really have no idea about either the clue or the second task."

"Maybe a broomstick flying competition while being chased by dragons?" Tonks suggested, excited by the idea.

"Darling, I need to test the champions, not their wallets or sponsors," Barnaby shook his head, despite appreciating the attempt. "And my dragons wouldn't take long to destroy their brooms, including (probably) their riders…"

Tonks frowned, realizing that in practice, it wasn't as good an idea as it seemed in her head.

"Why not have them protect eggs?" Sanshi suggested as she entered with a pot of flowers in her arms. "You could make the mission to steal a dragon egg, which would also be the clue for the second task. In nature, there are many animals that steal eggs, so it could apply in this case."

"That… seems much more feasible," Barnaby rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The champions wouldn't have to face the dragons head-on; they would act more like mothers or guardians. They'd have a reasonable, attainable goal, and their defeat could be declared if they break the egg. It's a great idea!"

Barnaby rushed over to hug Sanshi and kiss her on the cheek, which caused a happy laugh from the familiar.

Of course, they would implement countermeasures against Accio and similar spells; otherwise, it wouldn't make much sense to elaborate something like this.

"But you're back to the previous problem," Tonks pointed out as she changed the color of the wall with her wand, trying to find one that matched the furniture. "If you don't know what to do for the second task, you won't be able to create the clue."

"Mmm, very true. Originally, I thought of using the Forbidden Forest for the second task, whatever it might be, but it was ruled out due to the presence of the Centaur tribe and other creatures."

Although the Acromantulas were no longer one of them.

"Why not use the Black Lake instead?" Tonks suggested.

"Well, imagine the task takes place underwater—what will the people watch, the murky surface of the water?" Barnaby quickly dismissed it. "Wait a moment…" His expression changed, and he ran out of the room.

"I know that expression, he's had another crazy idea," Tonks didn't even want to chase after him; he'd be back soon.

Although she was no less surprised when her fiancé returned with—nothing less than a severed head in his hands!

"Tonks, I present to you Mimir!"

"A pleasure, miss," Mimir greeted politely. "Forgive me for not extending a hand; my circumstances make proper etiquette a bit difficult."

"Are you related to Thing?" Sanshi asked curiously.

A hand, a head… What next, a leg named Rick?

"Oh, what a charming creature. But no, I'm not related to—I don't even know who Thing is, actually, so no," Mimir replied, rolling his golden eyes in their sockets.

"Hello, Mimir," Tonks needed only a second to greet the severed head normally. Since meeting Barnaby, her tolerance for his strange creatures had grown immensely. And as a former Auror, she could see there was no dark magic involved. "I assume you can help my fiancé?"

At least this was a properly severed head, unlike a certain Gryffindor ghost who wouldn't stop whining about it…

"Barnaby! You didn't tell me you were engaged; once word gets out, everyone's going to go crazy, I assure you," Mimir's eyes widened at the news. "I'll have to think of a good gift, something unforgettable. Do you like mushroom soup?"

"Don't even think about it, Mimir," Barnaby rolled his eyes at the joke the severed head attempted, which would have earned a bow from the Weasley twins had they learned of such a feat. "I'll need your help to bring some things from far away."

"Of course, you can count on me!" Mimir confirmed without hesitation, his voice firm. "I just hope it's not anything too heavy; I'm old, and my back isn't what it used to be."

…

"Alright, note to self, improve my comedy repertoire," said Mimir after a minute of silence.

"Yeah…" Tonks simply dropped the subject altogether. "And the final task?"

"Oh, I've already thought of that, and I have someone in mind to help me, although it will take some time to bring her and more effort to convince her," Barnaby reflected. "Come to think of it, I really have to call on a lot of friends for these tasks and work hard to make sure everything goes well. I should have asked for better pay."

"How much did you ask for?" Sanshi asked out of curiosity.

"Thirty thousand five hundred Galleons, plus fifteen percent net of the profits from tickets, souvenirs, or official bets," Barnaby admitted without batting an eye, lost in his thoughts. "I should have asked for at least fifty thousand Galleons, what a shame. I really underestimated the amount of work; I need to be more careful in the future…"

Tonks swallowed audibly upon hearing the figure.

How many years of an Auror's salary was that?

You have to know that Arthur Weasley holds a position as Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, and each year, he only earns around five hundred Galleons. A salary enough to cover the basic needs of a middle-class family in the magical world, but not for luxuries, not when you have a large family like his.

It was also one of the reasons Arthur often worked overtime, trying to stretch his salary, especially when he knew events like the World Cup were coming.

And Barnaby was going to earn at least the equivalent of more than sixty years of that salary in one go, not counting the other bonuses and net profits, which, with a quick calculation, Tonks estimated to be no less than six thousand extra Galleons.

It was only possible to earn more, not less.

And he was still dissatisfied?