June 1993
Harry was breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat from his brow,
the smell of burning and fading magic permeating the smoke-filled
room. It had become a daily occurrence, so it was nothing new to the
boy, and as he observed the devastation he had wrought, he nodded
to himself.
Having learned that what he believed to have been dreams had
been glimpses of what Voldemort was doing, Harry had become
obsessed with his training, so much so that he had even requested
additional sessions with Olaffson.
The man had happily obliged and spent their time together trying to
break Harry mentally and physically.
He would often achieve the latter, and Harry's body would give out
long before he would admit defeat.
Even if he had to crawl to carry out an instruction, he did so until he
could move no longer.
The Icelander had not questioned Harry's motivation, but the boy
knew he had finally gotten the respect of the man.
Not that was what he was seeking.
No, Harry merely wanted every advantage he could possess.
One day, Voldemort would be successful in his endeavours, and
Harry needed to be ready for that eventuality.
Steadying his breathing, he took a seat, shivering from the coldness
of the sweat on his back.
Even in June Durmstrang remained chilly, just less so than in the
winter months.
Feeling his wand vibrate in his hand, it reminded Harry that he had
only twenty minutes before he was due in the main hall for his exam
in Blood Magic, and not wanting to arrive in his current state, he
went about the task of cleaning himself and his clothes.
He'd had his exam in Dark Magic earlier in the day, and without
wanting to sound like a braggart even to himself, he knew he had
done well.
Whether it was his own ability or something he had inherited from
Voldemort, it was something he excelled at and something he had
dedicated himself to learning.
The Dark Lord was an expert in the branch having studied it
extensively throughout his life, and regardless of if Harry's own
proclivity for it came from the man who had murdered his parents,
the boy had much of if not the same knowledge in the art, just not
the practical experience.
He had indeed taken more than just the parseltongue from his foe.
Not that he had disclosed that to anyone.
It could prove to be his greatest weapon in the years to come, and
the less any knew what Harry was capable of, the better for him.
Having washed himself and his robes, he dressed before taking his
leave of the room and heading towards the main hall, only to groan
as he felt a muscular arm wrap around his neck.
"Bloody hell, Krum, I've got an exam to get to," Harry huffed.
Viktor chuckled as he rubbed his knuckles across his scalp.
"I know," the Bulgarian replied. "I just wanted to wish you good luck."
"In your own barbaric Bulgarian way?"
Viktor released him and laughed once more, eliciting a smile from
Harry.
"Da, you'll get no pat on the back or hug from me," the older boy said
gruffly. "I expect you to do your best."
Harry rolled his eyes in frustration.
Viktor had taken it upon himself to watch over Harry, almost like an
irritating, overbearing brother.
"I will," Harry assured him.
"Good, now, I have something else for you."
"If you're going to hit me, I'll thump you back, you git," Harry warned.
Viktor raised one of his thick eyebrows at him.
"I'm not scared of you, Potter," he mocked, "but our fight will have to
wait until later. I have something nice for you, but I might just give it
to someone who will appreciate it."
"What is it?" Harry sighed.
Viktor grinned as he removed an envelope from within his robes.
"Tickets for you and your friends to the World Cup Qualifiers over the
summer," he announced. "I expect you to be wearing a Krum jersey."
"I'll support the other team out of spite," Harry replied as he took the
envelope.
"Then it will make me want to win more," Viktor declared.
Harry snorted as he shook his head.
"You didn't have to do this."
"I did," Viktor countered. "You've helped me a lot, and I appreciate it.
Besides, it will give you something to do instead of brooding about
with a face like a smacked backside."
"I don't brood."
Viktor merely hummed as he turned Harry around and pushed him
towards the hall.
"Remember, I expect the best grades from you," he reiterated.
"Bloody hell, you're worse than my aunt," Harry muttered.
He arrived at the main hall where the rest of the second years were
waiting to be admitted to sit the exam, and quickly found Cain and
others.
They had long-given-up asking where he spent most of his time now,
though that didn't stop most looking upon him with an expression of
concern.
The only one that didn't was Lucinda who had been the one to tell
the others to leave Harry be when they'd inundated him with
questions pertaining to his whereabouts.
It wasn't that Harry didn't trust them, he just couldn't expect any of
them to understand what he was doing and why.
How could he expect them to?
His life below the surface of what he allowed others to see was a
mess, and it would only become messier when Voldemort inevitably
returned.
He shook his head of those thoughts.
"Productive morning?" Lucinda asked.
Harry nodded in response.
"You?"
Lucinda shrugged.
"I've had worse," she mused aloud. "I don't even need to ask if
you're ready for this."
Harry offered the girl a reserved smirk.
He was enjoying learning about blood magic, something he and
Lucinda often discussed as it was something she was becoming
rather adept with herself.
"Well, I won't be carrying on with it next year," Cain declared. "The
wolf likes the taste of blood, and I can't even use the magic."
"Me either," Ana echoed. "The magic doesn't like me."
"Nor me," Eleanor added with a shrug. "I don't think many of us will.
It'd the same with Dark Magic. Harry, Cain, and Lucinda will pass
that. I don't know how many others will."
Any further conversation between the group was halted as the doors
to the main hall were opened and Professor Sidorova beckoned the
students to enter, placing a finger to her lips to remind them to
remain silent.
Harry filed in with the others and took his seat, shooting Lucinda a
final nod.
The girl didn't need any luck, but they had spent many hours
together studying for the final exam of the year, and when it was
over, there was nothing more they could do.
The rest of their time at Durmstrang would be determined from these
results, and though Harry wasn't nervous, he knew his remaining
years here would become only more challenging as they delved into
more advanced magic.
"I am pleased to hear that she seems to be doing better," Albus
offered sincerely, gesturing for Arthur to take a seat, "and you have
my congratulations for the win on the sweepstake. I believe you will
be all the better for a family holiday. Have you decided where you
wish to go?"
The redhead nodded eagerly.
Despite being a Head of Department at the Ministry, Arthur's wages
did not afford his large family a life of luxury. It was no secret that the
Weasleys were poor, but for the most part, they were a happy bunch.
"We are going to visit Bill in Egypt," Arthur answered. "We've even
managed to convince Charlie to come too."
Albus smiled at the man.
"So, you will be away for the entire summer?"
"We will," Arthur confirmed. "As much as she will never admit it,
Ginny has missed her brothers."
"But she will not be returning next year?"
Arthur shook his head.
"No, Molly is going to home school her. The healer doesn't think she
is ready yet, but perhaps she will return for her third year."
Albus nodded his understanding.
The girl had endured a deeply troubling experience, and the trauma
would stay with her for many years to come.
It may never even leave her entirely.
"Well, you of course have the full support of the school," Albus
ensured Arthur. "You or Molly need only say the word, and we will
help in any way we can."
"We really appreciate it, Albus," Arthur replied as he stood and
offered his hand.
The headmaster accepted the proffered limb.
"Do enjoy your time away," he urged.
"We will," Arthur chuckled before heading towards the fireplace he
had arrived through only a few moments prior.
Having thrown in a handful of floo powder, he disappeared and Albus
nodded to himself.
The attacks had indeed ceased after he had seized the diary, though
he was still unsure what to do with the item.
Gellert had urged him not to destroy it yet under the advice that it
could perhaps be used in the future against Tom.
Albus did not know what idea his former friend was toying with, but
he was yet to dispose of the Horcrux.
Instead, he kept it hidden away in his office, under every protection
spell he could possibly have placed over it to ensure it never fell into
the wrong hands.
Still, it was disconcerting to have such a dangerous thing so close,
and the mere thought made the headmaster feel very uneasy.
Now, however, was not the time to focus on it.
He needed to reply to the letters he had received from Igor and
Olympe.
The three of them had been discussing the possibility of
reintroducing the Tri-Wizard tournament and had been entertaining
the idea for the past few years.
They seemed to be close to reaching an accord to do so sooner
rather than later but would undoubtedly have to meet in person to
finalise any arrangements.
Both Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman had been easy to convince of
the benefits of doing so, though the former had only agreed if extra
protections were put in place, something Albus concurred with
wholeheartedly.
The thought of a cockatrice rampaging through Hogwarts worried
him almost as much as the diary that could have quite easily been
the death of several of his students.
It felt odd having packed to return home for the summer already. It
felt as though it was only yesterday that they had returned to
Durmstrang, and that something had changed within Harry.
He still retained his sarcastic wit, his sense of humour, and even
looked out for the rest of the second years they were boarded with,
but there was no denying that he was different.
For hours at a time, he would vanish, and when asked where he had
been, he would close himself off.
Eleanor had thought at first that he had met a girl, but that wasn't
something he would keep from them.
No, something had happened over the Christmas break that had
caused these changes.
Harry had already been a focused and dedicated student despite his
proclivity for causing trouble. Now, he was even more so.
They were all worried about him in their own ways, and though Harry
assured them that he was okay, Eleanor did not believe him entirely.
"Are you ready, Summerbee?" Lucinda huffed, pulling her from her
thoughts.
"I just need to finishing packing my underwear drawer," Eleanor
replied. "You could always help me if you like," she added, wagging
her eyebrows at the vampire.
Lucinda narrowed her eyes at her.
"I will not be touching your underwear!"
"Then shut up complaining about how long I am taking."
Eleanor had finished packing several minutes ago, but she knew
Lucinda was waiting for her, so she decided to take a little longer.
There were few things more entertaining at Durmstrang than winding
up the vampire.
She rose to the bait without fail, every time.
Harry always ended up receiving the brunt of her ire, however.
He had quite the gift for getting under Lucinda's skin.
"Alright, I'm done," Eleanor declared as the other girl growled at her.
"I thought Cain was supposed to be the wolf."
Eleanor skipped past her friend, followed by a string of rather rude
insults.
Not that the words bothered her. It was merely Lucinda's way of
showing her affection, something the girl would never admit.
"What took the two of you so long?" Harry asked as they entered the
common room.
"Lucinda was folding her underwear," Eleanor answered. "Honestly,
she's obsessed with the things."
The vampire flared her nostrils at Eleanor who offered her an
innocent smile.
"I am not," Lucinda denied. "You took forever packing yours!"
"Let's not argue about who has or hasn't got the underwear fetish,"
Harry interjected amusedly. "Remind me to add extra security to my
trunk," he murmured to Cain who nodded.
"Noted," he murmured, laughing as Lucinda lunged at Harry.
"Aww, I didn't know you cared so much," he wheezed as the girl sat
atop him.
This had become a common sight over the past months.
Usually, Harry would put his foot in it in some way, and Lucinda
would attack before letting him up.
"One of these days, Potter, I will not be able to stop myself," Lucinda
warned.
"Do you promise?" Harry replied cheekily, eliciting a reluctant yet
amused grin from the vampire who ran her tongue up the length of
his neck, pausing as she reached his ear.
"It would be so easy," she whispered. "I can almost taste your blood
from here."
Harry shivered involuntarily.
"Your tongue is cold," he groaned. "How would you like it if I licked
your neck and threatened you?"
Lucinda grinned.
"Oh, she'd love it," Eleanor snorted.
The others nodded their agreement and Lucinda huffed as she
stood.
"Why do you have to make it weird?" she asked.
"I didn't lick his neck," Cain defended. "Bruno, did you lick his neck?"
"Nope, I didn't see Summerbee or Ana do it either, just Lucinda. Is
that a vampire thing?"
Lucinda shot the boy a glare, and he fell silent immediately.
It was one thing for Harry to push the boundaries with her, but the
others had learned not to go too far.
"Can we leave now?" Harry asked. "The sooner I get away from you
lot, the sooner I'll be safe."
"Until the Quidditch matches," Cain reminded him.
"I might give them a miss if you lot are there," Harry muttered.
Cain chuckled as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
"You'll miss us in less than a week, Potter," he predicted. "You'll be
writing letters to us all within a few hours of getting home."
"Someone has to look out for you all," Harry replied dryly. "Merlin
knows what you would have done if I decided to go to another
school."
"Did that almost happen?" Eleanor asked curiously.
Harry nodded.
"I had a look around Beauxbatons, and I was registered at Hogwarts
since before I was born. I chose to come here."
"Why?" Bruno questioned.
"Because I knew there would be a group of misfits who would need
me," Harry answered with a smirk, though the amusement did not
quite reach his eyes.
No, Harry had reasons for coming here beyond what he would be
willing to tell them.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Eleanor asked him when the others had
said their goodbyes and headed off to where their parents were
waiting for him.
"I'm fine," Harry said dismissively.
"Harry!" Eleanor pressed, her glance shifting towards his aunt who
was wearing an expression of concern.
Harry deflated as he nodded, taking her by the hand and giving it a
gentle squeeze.
"I promise I will be fine," he said sincerely.
There was a steely glint in his eye, an unfamiliar seriousness that did
little to put Eleanor's mind at ease.
"Okay," she relented as she wrapped her arms around him. "Write to
me," she all but demanded. "Don't make me come looking for you."
Harry chuckled before offering her a sincere smile.
"You'll be the first I write to," he promised, kissing her on the cheek
before walking towards his aunt.
Eleanor waited until they had portkeyed away before she found her
own mother.
"You and Harry were having quite the moment there," the woman
teased.
Eleanor rolled her eyes.
"Harry is my friend."
Her mother hummed disbelievingly before taking her by the arm and
returning them home.
Despite his assurances and the prospect of spending the summer
with her family, Eleanor was worried about Harry.
On the surface, he was still the same carefree boy she had met her
first night at Durmstrang, but beneath that veneer, there was
something else, something she had gotten a glimpse of a little over a
year ago when Barkus had attempted to confront him.
Harry may seem to be quite a jovial boy for the most part, but
Eleanor and the others knew there was much more to him.
For what he was evidently preparing for, she knew not, but Harry
was far from being a normal boy readying himself for his life beyond
school.
No, there was much more to him than that.
"You must eat something, Viktor," his mother urged as he stared at
the bowl of oats and honey she had prepared for him.
Viktor had no appetite today.
Playing for Bulgaria wasn't like playing in the standard Quidditch
league. There was much more riding on today than a few lost points
and some disappointed locals.
The entire country would be watching him closely, scrutinising his
every move, and if he failed to catch the Snitch in his first
appearance, he may not ever be given another chance.
Although his mouth was dry and it was the last thing he wished to
do, he spooned some of the sweetened grains into his mouth,
eliciting a smile from his mother.
"You'll be fine, Son," his father comforted. "You've spent your whole
life training for this."
Viktor nodded.
He had, but the opposing seeker would be suitably prepared.
For the most part, Viktor had been relying on Harry and the rest of
his schoolmates to help him prepare, and though the former was
shaping up to be quite the challenge, none were close to a
professional standard.
The thought of the younger boy brought a fond grin to his lips.
He really liked Harry, his dry wit and the fact that he didn't care that
Viktor was becoming rather famous in their world.
The boy gave him as much a hard time as he did any other,
something the Bulgarian appreciated.
"That's more like it," his mother encouraged. "You should be looking
forward to this."
Viktor nodded as the kitchen door to their humble home opened and
stood as his older sister entered.
"Hana!" he greeted her enthusiastically. "What are you doing here?"
"I wasn't going to miss your first match for Bulgaria," the woman
murmured in his ear as he pulled her into a tight embrace.
Viktor was filled with warmth at her words.
Hana had graduated from Durmstrang a few years prior and was
living in Germany where she was training to be a wizarding architect.
It was a difficult career path to establish yourself in, and Viktor had
barely seen her since she had left.
"Thank you for coming," he said gratefully.
"Well, you'd better win to make it worth my while," Hana teased.
Viktor nodded but frowned as he realised something.
"I didn't get you a ticket."
"She will have mine," his mother insisted.
Viktor shook his head.
"No, I know where she can sit," he declared. "You won't be with Mum
and Dad, but Harry won't mind you being there with them."
"Harry?" Hana asked.
"He's a friend from school," Viktor explained. "I got him and some
others a box they could watch the match from. Just don't take
anything he says seriously," he suggested. "If he can push your
buttons, he will."
Hana raised an eyebrow in her brother's direction as she hummed.
"Well, he hasn't met me yet."
Viktor shook his head.
"Hana, you will not get the better of him," he sighed. "Harry is, well,
he's just Harry. Maybe this isn't such a good idea."
"Oh, no, I want to meet him now," Hana countered. "I don't get to
meet many interesting people at work."
Viktor regretted hatching the idea to have Hana sitting with Harry
and the others now, but since her curiosity had been piqued, he
knew he wouldn't be able to change her mind.
He shot his father a final look and the man held his hands up,
indicating that he would not be getting involved in the dispute.
"Come along, Viktor," his mother broke in. "You'd best finish your
breakfast. It won't be long before we have to leave."
Sullenly, Viktor did as he was bid, a part of him dreading the meeting
of his sister and the boy he had grown fond of, and the other part
knowing that Hana will have met her match by the time the game
ended.
August 1993
He had been home for almost two months, and though he had been
writing to his friends, Harry had not seen any of them thus far, not
even Pansy who was spending her summer travelling with her father,
visiting all the businesses he held a stake in.
With no sons, Lord Parkinson would be leaving the family wealth to
Pansy and whomever she was to marry, undoubtedly with the
condition that any first child they produced would bear the family
name.
Still, Harry's time away from Durmstrang had been productive, and
he had kept himself busy with the subjects he planned on continuing,
approval pending, and keeping up with his Fitness for Magic.
He would not give Olaffson the satisfaction of breaking him all over
again.
Aside from his pursuits, he had been spending time with Cassie, and
even held a funeral for Hector whom he had discovered upon his
return, curled up in his nest with some of the last meal that Harry had
given him remaining.
It had been a particularly sombre day when he'd said goodbye to his
little companion, but Hector had lived a happy and full life, the only
things Harry could have wished for him.
Along with being put through his paces by Cassie, he'd even
managed to continue with the Quidditch practices as part of his
leisure time.
He'd even purchased a professional level Snitch to chase.
Not that he'd had much luck capturing it the first few times he'd tried.
Viktor made it look so easy, but the little golden ball was elusive, and
when Harry had managed to outmanoeuvre it, the feat had taken him
almost three hours.
In truth, he'd been merely relieved that he'd managed to catch it at
all.
Today would be a Quidditch day, but not one where he would be
competing against his new-found foe.
He would be attending his first professional match in which Bulgaria
would be playing against Belgium.
Harry had been looking forward to it, but more so taking what he felt
was a well-deserved break and spending some time with his friends.
"Will you be taking your cloak?" Cassiopeia asked as he entered the
kitchen.
Harry shook his head.
"I wouldn't want to risk losing it," he replied. "I'll be fine," he assured
the woman who pursed her lips unhappily.
"Fine," she agreed reluctantly, "but I want you to come straight home
when you are finished. You have your portkey, don't you?"
Harry rolled his eyes at the woman.
"Yes, I have it," he confirmed. "Why not just place a tracking charm
on me and be done with it?"
"Stop being so dramatic," Cassiopeia huffed.
She was worried.
It was the first time that Harry would be venturing out in public
without her, and she was hesitant to allow him to do so.
Harry understood her concerns, but she couldn't simply keep him
locked away forever, as much as she likely wished to.
"I will be careful," he assured her, placing a kiss on the woman's
cheek.
Cassiopeia hummed disbelievingly.
"The words 'Harry' and 'careful' are not things that go well together,"
she replied. "I don't know where you get your recklessness from.
Aactually, it's not so difficult to work out. Your grandfather was like it,
and I suspect your father was too."
Harry smiled proudly despite the fact that Cassiopeia was urging him
to curb those tendencies.
"What was my grandfather like?" he asked curiously.
Cassiopeia pondered the question for a moment before answering
carefully.
"We didn't see eye to eye on much, but Charlus Potter was a very
highly respected man," she began somewhat reservedly. "He was a
powerful wizard in his own right, and no one could question his
bravery. He did end up marrying my sister, after all, and didn't care
what anyone thought of his choice. He and Arcturus were close
friends who both spoke their minds. I suppose you're like them both
in that way."
Harry nodded appreciatively.
"Thank you," he offered. "Anyway, I have to go now. I will be careful
and I won't do anything to get myself in trouble."
"Good," Cassiopeia replied. "Have fun."
"But not too much?" Harry snorted.
"Not your kind," Cassiopeia sighed as she ushered him out of the
door where Harry activated his portkey.
It was outside Sofia that he arrived a moment later, only a short
distance away from the Quidditch stadium and where he would be
meeting the others.
Lucinda had never been interested in Quidditch in any way. She
could think of dozens of things she'd rather be doing than watching
fourteen people flying around a stadium chasing balls and doing their
best to mutilate one another.
However, she knew that it would be impolite to decline the invitation
to attend, and it was a day away from what could sometimes be the
dreary existence of being in a vampire coven.
"How do I look?" she asked her mother as she entered the living
room of their home.
Her mother looked at her questioningly, a ghost of a smirk tugging at
her lips before she began rearranging Lucinda's hair.
"You're making a lot of effort for a Quidditch match," she commented.
"I've never seen you make so much effort in your appearance for
anything. Is there someone you wish to impress?"
Lucinda huffed irritably as she pulled away from her mother.
"No," she denied hotly.
"Not even Harry?"
Lucinda narrowed her eyes at the woman, her amusement
immediately provoking her ire.
"Of course not," she replied evenly.
Her mother tutted before fussing over her once more.
"There," she declared when she was done. "You look beautiful."
Lucinda had worn a corset for the first time in as long as she could
remember.
It was black with red detailing, and she completed her outfit with
some matching leather trousers and knee-high boots.
She had tied her long hair back in an elaborate braid, her look
differing from her usual wear away from school of loose trousers and
vest tops.
"It's not too much, is it?"
Her mother shook her head, gesturing to her own similar outfit.
"Does it look too much?"
"No," Lucinda replied.
"There you go then," her mother replied. "If that is what you wish to
wear, then it is your choice. I'm sure Harry will love it."
"I'm not doing it for him!"
Her mother didn't believe her, but Lucinda wasn't going to waste her
time trying to convince her otherwise.
She was already running late, and if she didn't leave now, the others
would likely think she had decided not to go.
"I'm leaving now," she declared.
"Have fun," her mother said sweetly.
Lucinda scowled at the woman before activating the portkey Harry
had sent a few days ago and found herself a short distance away
from her friends a moment later.
As she had expected, she was the last to arrive, and her attire
garnered more attention than she'd hoped it would.
"Well, don't you look hot," Summerbee commented as she
approached. "Why don't you dress like that at school?"
"To stop idiots like this one drooling over her," Ana snorted, elbowing
the staring Cain in the ribs. "Down boy. Your kind and hers don't mix
well at the best of times."
Cain closed his gaping mouth and shook his head, offering Lucinda
an apologetic look.
"Sorry," he murmured. "You just took me by surprise."
Lucinda merely nodded, doing her best to pointedly ignore Harry
whose gaze she could feel on her.
"You look nice," he said simply.
As had become a common feeling, were it possible for her to do so,
Lucinda was certain she would be blushing from the compliment.
Harry had a way of having that effect on her, something she hadn't
decided if she liked or not.
"Come on, we'd best head in before the match starts," he suggested,
leading them towards one of the many entrances into the stadium.
When they reached the wizard checking the tickets, Harry handed
the man an envelope and he pointed them in the direction of boxes.
"Are you sure this is for us?" Cain asked uncertainly when they
entered one of the private sections.
"That's what it says here," Harry answered with a shrug, throwing a
grape into the air and catching it in his mouth from the large fruit
platter that had been left for them. "Maybe Krum is famous."
"He's almost as famous as you, Harry," Cain huffed. "Everyone in
Bulgaria knows who he is, and almost every Quidditch fan on the
planet would have heard of him by now."
"He's still a surly git," Harry snorted, taking a seat and looking over
the pitch. "He could be worse though, I suppose," he added.
"I could be," a voice from the door sounded.
An amused Viktor Krum entered the box with whom Lucinda
assumed was his parents, and another woman who was younger
than them, but older than Krum.
"Here he is," Harry greeted him with a bow. "The next great seeker.
You'd better win, Krum. I've bet good gold on you."
"You bet on me?" Viktor asked, surprised by the revelation.
Harry nodded as he clapped the boy smartly on the shoulder.
"It's easy money, why wouldn't I?"
Krum shook his head.
"You shouldn't do that, Harry," he murmured.
"You should believe in yourself more," Harry returned. "I'm not
wasting my time training with someone that won't win."
Viktor chuckled heartily.
"What brings you here anyway?" Harry asked. "I didn't think you
giving me the tickets meant I'd have to spend more time around
you."
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be," Viktor rebutted. "I need a
favour."
"A favour?"
Viktor nodded as he beckoned the younger of the women forward.
"I didn't know my sister would be here, and she doesn't have a seat,"
he explained. "Would you mind if she stayed in here with you and the
others?"
"Your sister?" Harry asked too pleasantly.
"Don't," Viktor warned.
Harry held his hands up innocently.
"I was only going to say that she is much too pretty to be your sister,"
Harry replied with a smirk. "Come off it, Viktor, you look like a
caveman whose knuckles skim the pavement when you walk, and
you mumble too much when you talk."
"I do not," Viktor growled.
Harry waved him off.
"I will look after her," he assured the Bulgarian. "She is in very safe
hands with me."
Viktor rubbed his temples whilst his sister watched the back and
forth between them in amusement.
"Fine," Viktor agreed eventually. "Harry, this is Hana."
"Hana," Harry echoed. "Are you sure he's your brother?"
The woman's eyes twinkled as she nodded.
"He is," she confirmed. "Viktor has already told me so much about
you, Harry."
"Has he? And what had Viktor told you?"
Lucinda and the others laughed.
There were so many things that Krum could have told his sister
about Harry.
"Mostly that I should watch myself around you," Hana answered. "I
think he might be right about that."
Harry nodded, agreeing with the assessment.
"You have nothing to fear from me, Hana," he assured her. "Viktor is
just overly dramatic with everything. She will be safe with us," he
added to the nervous Quidditch player.
Viktor shook his head in frustration.
"Behave yourself, Potter," he warned.
Harry offered him an innocent smile, waving the boy goodbye as he
left with his parents before turning back to the young woman who
was staring at him wide-eyed.
"Was it something I said?"
"Y-you're Harry Potter?" Hana sputtered.
"He is," Summerbee interjected brightly, looping her arm through
Hana's. "Don't worry, you get used to his ways."
"My ways?" Harry questioned.
"I think she means your tendency to get yourself into trouble," Ana
pointed out.
Harry frowned as he looked at the others who offered no words in his
defence.
"Well, she isn't wrong, is she?" Lucinda snorted, taking pity on the
boy and patting his shoulder comfortingly. "Come on, you can try
feeding me some of this horrible-looking food to see if it actually
tastes of anything," she offered.
Harry's demeanour shifted immediately.
For some reason, he always got quite the kick at watching Lucinda
grimace as she ate human food, even though he knew it all tasted
the same to her.
Still, she humoured him by eating some popcorn, and even some
sweets that he insisted were good.
Despite his ways of getting under her skin, there was little else
Lucinda found she enjoyed more than Harry's smile.
Somehow, it brightened the very room, and lifted everyone's mood
around him.
Even hers, and it was one of the things she found she missed during
the long months away from Durmstrang at the end of the school
year.
It was not often Cassie saw the side to Harry where he simply acted
as a thirteen-year-old boy should, but he had returned from the
Quidditch match, animated and was eagerly giving her a running
commentary of how his day had unfolded.
The woman couldn't prevent the smile from cresting her lips as he
spoke of spending time with his friends and them watching the game
together.
He was so happy, and Cassie felt no regrets for allowing him to go.
"Well, dinner will be ready soon," she informed him. "Would you
mind fetching the paper?" she asked as she heard the owl tapping
on the glass to be admitted.
Harry nodded as he bounced from the room, and Cassiopeia shook
her head as she set the table.
It was nice to see Harry enjoying something so simple and getting so
much joy from a normal, teenage pursuit.
"Would you mind getting some water?" she asked as she heard him
return to the dining room, only to receive no response. "Harry," she
sighed as she turned, frowning as she took in his sudden shift in
mood.
His hands were trembling as his eyes bored into the front page of the
newspaper, his eyes alight with unbridled fury.
"Harry, what is it?" Cassie pressed.
Harry said nothing as he slammed the paper onto the table and
stormed from the room, but the reason for such sudden anger
became clear as Cassie shifted her attention to the article that had
offended him so.
She felt it too, a level of anger that had not surfaced within her for
many years, and if such news affected her so strongly, then there
was truly no telling what emotions Harry was experiencing.
With a tightened jaw, she threw the newspaper into the fire, watching
as the dark words and accompanying image were feasted upon by
the flames.
Sirius Black Escapes Azkaban!
The face of the man in the image was familiar, but it was not a
welcome familiarity, and Cassie knew that she needed to solve this
problem.
As much as she was loathe to admit it, there was only one man who
may be able to help her in this, and thinking only of Harry, she began
penning a letter to Dumbledore.
Sirius needed to be found quickly, before he either attempted to find
Harry, or did something equally foolish to further sully the Black
name