He had perhaps thought that he may experience some emotional
turmoil from his actions in Britain, but no such thing had happened. It
wasn't as though Harry believed he could simply kill just anyone in
cold blood, but he had no such reservations when it came to the
Death Eaters.
Whenever he found himself questioning the justification for what he'd
done, he reminded himself of the deeds they had carried out, the
cruelty they had inflicted on others merely because they believed
they were inferior to them, and any semblance of doubt all but
vanished with his next breath.
He had pondered his own approach deeply, turned the memory over
in his mind dozens of times, and still nothing.
As far as Harry was concerned, the Death Eaters who had fallen to
him had gotten what they deserved; maybe even less so.
"You're doing it again," Ana huffed, nudging him with her shoulder.
"Doing what?"
"Flexing your hand towards your wand. Is there someone you wish
to curse in here?"
Harry snorted as he shook his head.
"No, I'm just thinking about duelling."
The girl rolled her eyes at him.
His friends had initially been disappointed that they had not been
able to attend the final, but having explained what had occurred
during the aftermath, they had been relieved for their absence.
It was not something any would wish to be caught up in.
"I'm surprised it wasn't bigger news," Cain mused aloud. "An incident
like that after the cup final, I would have thought the media would
have made a song and dance about it."
"Not if they didn't know," Harry replied with a shrug. "I doubt the
British Ministry held a press conference to explain everything. All
they reported was the Dark Mark being in the sky."
It was odd to Harry too, but he wasn't going to complain about the
seemingly unexplainable deaths of Thorfin Rowle and whomever the
other Harry had cut down had been.
He had yet to learn who his second victim was.
Not that it mattered.
The Death Eaters were equally guilty, and any that donned the robes
and mask had never done so without the intention of harming others.
"Where is Lucinda?" Summerbee questioned.
Harry too had been wondering where the vampire had gotten to.
She hadn't been on the shore waiting for the ship, but it wasn't as
though many stuck around to ensure everyone boarded who is
supposed to.
It was too cold for such things, and the moment the ship surfaced,
the students tended to seek out the warmth of the cabins within.
"She didn't mention anything in any of her letters," Ana returned with
a frown. "I got one from her yesterday and she said that she'd be
here."
"Maybe she found a dark corner to take a nap in," Jonas snorted.
"Or a different victim to torment instead of Harry for once."
"I wouldn't be that fortunate," Harry murmured. "I fear that I will
spend the rest of my life being stalked in the shadows by an
immortal creature."
"Like you would have it any other way," Cain muttered. "The happiest
we see you is either when you're duelling, flying, or irritating Lucinda.
It's quite disgusting the way you are with each other."
"The way we are with each other?" Harry questioned.
Cain nodded.
"She's always wrestling with you."
"You mean throwing me around like a ragdoll," Harry huffed. "That
vampire strength is something else."
"She's always threatening to turn you."
"She threatens everyone with that," Harry pointed out.
"She's always licking her lips around you," Jonas broke in.
"Because of her blood cravings," Harry defended.
Jonas hummed sceptically.
"Whatever you say, Harry."
Harry frowned at the boy before his gaze swept over the rest of the
group, none of them meeting it without smirking mockingly.
"I don't treat her any differently than I do any of you."
"You don't," Ana agreed, "but she treats everyone else differently to
what she does you."
"It's true," Cain spoke once more. "If anyone else dared say the
things you do to her, Merlin knows what she would do to them."
"But that's just me," Harry chuckled. "I've done it since I first met her.
She's just used to it."
"Maybe," Cain conceded. "Or she is actually fond of you in her own
way."
"She's fond of all of us," Harry sighed. "She wouldn't spend time with
us if she wasn't, and she spends more time with Ana and
Summerbee than anyone else."
"He's not wrong," Jonas acknowledged. "Maybe we're reading too
much into it. It's not like any of us really understand vampires.
Maybe she just likes to think about draining you of your blood."
Harry nodded.
Barely a day passed at Durmstrang where Lucinda didn't echo such
a sentiment.
"Anyway, I wonder where she is?" Cain mused aloud.
His answer came only a few moments later when the door opened
and Lucinda entered.
She said nothing as she took a seat next to Harry who frowned as he
took in her appearance.
Lucinda looked different.
Not in any obvious or truly discernible way, but she appeared to have
grown over the summer. Her features having become more
prominent, pointed, but also delicate.
Her hair and eyes remained as they had always been, and although
her figure was just as lithe, she had seemingly filled out.
All of this, however, was negligible as Harry caught a waft of her
scent.
It was a musky aroma, not unpleasant and not overpowering, but it
was unmistakeable, a subtle addition to her presence.
"You look different," Cain said bluntly, and Harry threw a box of
Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans at him as Lucinda narrowed her
eyes irritably.
"You have as much tact as a stampeding Erumpent," Ana muttered,
shooting Cain a filthy look.
The cowed werewolf offered the vampire a look of apology, wisely
choosing to remain silent.
"It's not that different," Lucinda sighed. "Is it?"
Harry raised an eyebrow at the sound of her voice.
It had deepened somewhat, and somehow made her accent seem
thicker.
"No," Summerbee assured her. "No one who has never paid much
attention to you will notice. We see you and talk to you every day at
school, so it is different for us."
Lucinda merely nodded gratefully in return, and Harry scooped up a
passing Chocolate Frog and threw it at Jonas, hitting the staring boy
between the eyes.
"It's rude to stare," he said pointedly as the boy scowled at him.
Lucinda offered him a look of gratitude.
"So, how was the final?" she asked.
Having little interest or access to the news in the wizarding world,
Lucinda had not been made aware of anything that had transpired
during the match and the aftermath.
When Harry finished explaining it to her, she offered him a probing
look.
"You just left?" she questioned pointedly, when he'd finished
informing her of the appearance of the Death Eaters.
Harry nodded.
"I'm not stupid enough to attempt to take on that many people at
once, am I?"
"Knowing you, probably," Lucinda grumbled, her eyes roaming over
him as though she was looking for any sign of injury. "You act without
thinking."
The others nodded their agreement.
"That's not true," Harry defended. "I always think things through,
even if I don't spend too much time on it."
"That's being reckless," Lucinda sighed. "It's like you have a death
wish or something. Remember the Quidditch incident?"
"I caught the Snitch."
"And broke several bones in the process," the vampire pointed out.
"Both you and Krum could have been killed."
"I don't think the world would have liked that," Cain chuckled. "Their
two favourite teen celebrities actually killing each other during
Quidditch training."
"Don't call me that!" Harry snapped.
"Are you not famous?" the werewolf returned.
Harry's jaw tightened.
For his entire life he had been able to avoid being gawped at or
approached by the bolder members of the public.
That had changed when he had visited Britain for his stay, but it was
something he would have to get used to, for when he returned in the
future.
"Fine," he conceded, "but I would swap places with any one of you to
be rid of it. Even you, Jonas, you ugly shit."
"Oi, I'm not ugly," the son of the hag bit back. "My looks are
characterful."
"No. You're ugly," Cain snorted. "I think you somehow get uglier
every year."
Jonas raised an eyebrow at the heavily scarred werewolf.
"Scars are different," Cain argued, understanding the pointed glance.
"Girls love scars."
"I suppose they love their boyfriends turning into a savage beast
once a month too," Jonas said airily.
Cain grinned as he nodded.
"As it happens, there are some that do," he replied. "There are
groups of witches that are attracted to werewolves. I can't remember
what they call it…"
"Bestiality?" Harry questioned.
Cain frowned as he shrugged.
"It might be that. Either way, I won't ever be going without."
"Going without what?" Summerbee asked with a mischievous smirk.
Cain reddened and the others laughed at his embarrassment.
"Saved by the horn," Harry quipped as the bellowing sound alerting
them to their arrival at the school rang throughout the ship. "Come
on, before Wolfie here decides he's gone without for long enough.
Cain muttered under his breath whilst the group took their leave of
the cabin and entered the throngs of other students who were eager
to reach the warmth of the school.
As ever, it was bitterly cold as they slogged their way through the
snow, and only Lucinda, along with the other vampires did not need
the help of a warming charm or an extra layer to stave off the chill.
"Finally," Jonas groaned as they were shown into the main hall, each
of them rubbing their hands together to get the blood flowing back
through them. "Why can't they relocate to the Caribbean or
somewhere else warm?"
"Then our lives would be made just that little more pleasant," Harry
snorted as the teens found their seats and waited for Karkaroff to
give his usual, short, beginning of the year greeting.
The headmaster stood as soon as the final students had settled
themselves with an unusually excited expression in place of his surly
demeanour.
"Before I begin with the formalities of the upcoming school year, I
have an important announcement to make regarding our seventhyear students," he began. "After centuries of not taking place, it is my
pleasure to announce that this year, the Triwizard Tournament will be
making its return."
Many around the hall began whispering excitedly at the news, and
Harry shared a look with his peers who were none the wiser to what
the tournament was.
He had no idea, but to elicit such a response from those that did
know, it must be quite the event.
"I say that it affects only our seventh years because of the new
regulations agreed upon that an age limit has been put in place. The
tournament will be hosted by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, so those of you that are eligible and interested, remain
behind at the end of the meal where I will explain what is to happen
in further detail."
Many of the students were disappointed by the introduction of an
age limit, yet, Harry still had no idea what the tournament even was
to warrant such a thing.
"Does anyone want to explain to the others what it is?" he sighed
irritably.
"It's a tournament that is held between us, Hogwarts, and
Beauxbatons," one of the older boys, a half-blood named Egan
answered. "A champion from each is chosen, and they compete in
three different tasks. The winner usually gets some gold, and the
school gets the trophy until the next one. They usually hold it every
four years."
"But it was banned?" Cain asked.
Egan nodded.
"Too many people died," he explained. "During the last one, a
cockatrice went on a rampage and killed several people in the crowd
and two of the champions."
"Well, that seems like a brilliant reason to bring it back," Ana scoffed.
"Maybe this time they'll unleash a horde of griffins or dementors on
people."
"They might," Egan replied with a shrug. "They've used dragons
before."
"Then we should be grateful they put the age limit in place, or Potter
here would be the first one in the queue to sign up," Lucinda
murmured.
Harry shook his head.
"No thanks, I don't need anyone or anything else that want me
dead," Harry replied dryly. "I don't care about gold or being a
champion. Despite what you think, I'm quite fond of breathing."
"And his Aunt would hit the roof," Cain pointed out.
Harry winced at the mere thought of what Cassie's reaction would
be.
He'd need not worry about dragons, dementors, or cockatrice.
If he ever felt compelled to take part in such a dangerous
tournament, Cassiopeia Black would ensure he thought twice about
that level of foolishness.
"Barty has personally secured the Goblet until it is to be brought to
Hogwarts and placed in the Great Hall for the champions to submit
their names," Ludo explained.
Albus nodded.
If there was anyone who could be trusted to ensure the new rules
would be adhered to, it was Barty Crouch.
"So, now we just have to wait until the delegates from the other
schools arrive," Albus mused aloud. "Is everything prepared and
confirmed for the tasks?"
'Everything," Crouch confirmed with a stiff nod. "The dragon reserve
is happy to supply the creatures, and everything else will be handled
here."
"Dragons?" Cornelius interjected worriedly. "Are they really
necessary?"
"This is the Triwizard tournament, Minister," Ludo chuckled. "There
must be a level of danger and excitement."
"Very well," Cornelius agreed reluctantly. "I am hopeful that the
tournament will help the British public forget what happened at the
World Cup. I suppose I should be pleased that they only know of the
Dark Mark and not the full story."
Albus frowned lightly at the Minister.
Cornelius may be willing to ignore what had occurred, but the truth
could not be denied.
Several Death Eaters had decided to dress in their former garb to
terrorise those that had chosen to camp at the site, and despite the
Ministry assurances that it had been a harmless prank, those that
had witnessed the unfolding events knew otherwise.
Fortunately, the crowds had dispersed before the fighting had taken
place and had not witnessed the chilling climax.
Arthur and his two eldest sons had jumped into the fray to attempt to
save the lives of the muggles that had been targeted, but
unbeknownst to the men, another had joined them.
"Did the auror investigation lead to anything?" Albus asked
interestedly, already suspecting what the answer would be.
"No," Cornelius sighed. "Bones investigated it herself. The Weasleys
were cleared immediately, but there was no sign of the other person.
I expect they left quickly."
"And no one saw a thing?"
Cornelius shook his head.
"Not a glance," he confirmed. "Whoever it was must be an expert in
concealment. The fighting took place on open ground, the closest
cover almost one hundred metres away. To hit those spells, they
must have been close."
One hundred metres was indeed an impossible distance to
comprehend for combat purposes, especially with the precise magic
that had been used.
"An ugly business," Cornelius sighed. "Rowle was the luckier of the
two victims. He died in a matter of moments. Yaxley was not so
fortunate."
Yaxley.
Albus had not been made aware of whom the second victim had
been, but the death of the man would be quite the blow for Tom
when he returned.
Yaxley had been amongst the most talented of his followers and had
a keen mind for politics.
"So, there is no clue as to who was behind their deaths?" Barty
enquired.
"None whatsoever. Amelia has closed the case until new evidence is
found. I thought perhaps it may have been Sirius Black, but I have
my doubts. After I spoke with Harry Potter, Black would be a fool to
draw attention to himself."
"Harry Potter?" Barty pressed.
"The boy attended the final," Cornelius explained. "I all but assured
him that I would call off the search for Black. After what happened
here, the boy somehow learned of it, and all but assured me it would
be brought to the public's attention. I thought it best for all involved
that Black be given the opportunity to leave quietly."
Barty offered Cornelius a look of disapproval.
"You met with Mr Potter?" Albus asked curiously before the man
could make his displeasure known.
"I did," Cornelius confirmed. "He's an interesting young man to say
the least. He and Lucius did not have the most amicable of
exchanges, especially as young Mr Potter made quite the sum of
gold from a bet they had on the game."
"A sum of gold?" Albus pressed.
"Five hundred galleons," Cornelius snorted. "It was what appeared to
be a fool's bet on Potter's behalf, but his prediction came true. Lucius
did not take the loss well, and Mr Potter had a few choice words for
him; and for me," he added with a frown.
"What did he say?"
Cornelius shrugged.
"That the Malfoy name was not the one to be feared, and that in a
few years, things would change. It was rather ominous, but I believe
we managed to part on reasonable terms."
Albus hummed thoughtfully.
He had wondered if Harry would indeed return to Britain when he
reached his majority, and now, it seemed as though he had his
answer.
Interesting times certainly lay ahead, particularly as Lucius would
learn that it would not be Draco inheriting the Black title.
It was one of the perceived eventualities that made everyone so
cautious of provoking the ire of the man.
Nonetheless, Harry still needed to tread carefully.
Lucius Malfoy, even without the prospect of adding the enormous
Black wealth and influence to his family was an exceedingly
dangerous man.
One did not find themselves at such a lofty height without being
ruthless and possessing a keen brilliance for the political field.
No, Harry would indeed need to carve his path carefully, especially
with the Dark Lord somewhere out there baying for his blood.
Viktor was torn on what he would do regarding the tournament. He
was certain that he wished to enter and believed he had an excellent
chance of being selected to represent Durmstrang, but for him, the
decision was not such an easy one to make.
Having attended the meeting with Headmaster Karkaroff the
previous evening and even allowing himself to be caught up in the
excitement of what was to come, he was no closer to making up his
mind.
The tournament was a risk, but it was a once in a lifetime opportunity
that he did not wish to pass up.
However, he was a Quidditch player first and foremost and he could
not neglect the sport for his own selfish desires.
Releasing a deep sigh, he knocked on the door he had been
standing before for the past several moments.
"Who is it?" the voice of the headmaster barked irritably.
Viktor entered the office and the scowl of the man immediately
morphed into something more accommodating.
"Viktor!" Karkaroff greeted him warmly. "Come, take a seat."
Viktor nodded gratefully.
Despite Bulgaria not winning the World Cup, he was still being
treated better than any other student here and had even received a
hero's welcome when he had returned to his homeland.
The Bulgarians were prideful people, and Viktor had personified that
with his actions in the final.
His country had taken the loss rather well and had been grateful he
had spared them an embarrassing defeat.
"What can I do for you?" Karkaroff asked, breaking into Viktor's
thoughts.
"I wanted to discuss the tournament with you."
Karkaroff nodded eagerly.
"I had hoped you would consider submitting your name for
consideration," he replied proudly.
"I would like to," Viktor confirmed, "but I need to clear it with the team
manager."
Karkaroff waved off Viktor's concern.
"I will personally discuss it with him," he said dismissively. "I will
assure him that you will still be able to play, and the season will not
begin until after the first two tasks anyway."
"Thank you, Headmaster, but there is one other thing."
"Name it, and it will be done."
"Even though the Quidditch season will not begin until March, I will
still need to train…"
"Hogwarts has excellent facilities; better than the ones we manage
to maintain here."
"But they do not have the one thing we do here," Viktor sighed.
Karkaroff frowned questioningly.
"What would that be?"
"Harry," Viktor answered simply.
"Potter?"
Viktor nodded and Karkaroff leaned back in his chair as he released
a deep breath.
"Viktor, Potter came here to avoid going to Hogwarts," he explained.
"I cannot force him to go."
"You will not need to force him. Harry will want to help me, and it
would make it easier if he was there," Viktor murmured. "The others,
they will only care about my fame, and if I trained with any of them, it
would become about egos. I do not have to worry about that with
Harry."
Karkaroff eyed him for a moment before nodding somewhat
reluctantly.
"You have struck up quite the friendship, as surprising as it is," he
conceded. "Well, I would not wish for you to miss out on the
opportunity, but as I said, I will not attempt to force Potter to go. I
suggest we discuss the matter with him and we can make some
decisions from there."
Viktor nodded his agreement.
"Thank you, Professor."
"Don't thank me yet," Karkaroff snorted. "You still have to convince
Potter. I will fetch him now."
Viktor smirked at the thought of the impending conversation.
He knew Harry well enough to know that he would help, but he
wouldn't agree to do so quietly.
He would rant, and he would curse Viktor's name to the ground, but
despite this, he would agree, though unlikely without gaining
something for himself from it.
That would be for Karkaroff to handle.
Viktor merely needed to convince his friend to help him one final time
before he left Durmstrang at the end of the school year.
"Today, we will begin our work on proximity and concealment
charms," Professor Sidorova explained. "Now, can anyone give me
an example of either?"
"The Disillusionment Charm," Cain answered, eliciting a nod of
approval from the veela.
"Excellent," Sidorova praised. "It is a most useful charm to master,
but difficult to do so. With a little work, most can cast it to a
satisfactory degree, but to truly master it is something that takes
considerable effort. With that being said, who can explain the effects
of the spell? Go ahead, Potter."
"It is a concealment spell that has the potential to render the user
invisible," Harry explained. "It is good for surface use but is easily
detected by certain revealing spells. For those that do not master it,
it can be detected through sight as the air around you will shift when
you move."
Sidorova offered Harry a smile.
"I could not have put it better myself," she declared. "Are there any
better alternatives?" she added.
"Only an invisibility cloak," Ana replied. "A cloak will fully conceal
you, and many have charms imbued into them to prevent the user
being found by revealing charms."
"Indeed," Sidorova confirmed. "However, invisibility cloaks are
exceedingly rare, very expensive, and do not tend to retain their
abilities for more than five to ten years at the very most."
Harry frowned at the information.
The note he had received with his own cloak said that it had
belonged to his father.
The man had been dead for around a decade when Harry had
received it, and in the few years since, it had not shown any signs of
failing him.
Before he could question the professor, however, a loud knock
sounded at the door and Headmaster Karkaroff entered, his
expression as unfriendly as ever.
"Potter, you will come with me," he instructed firmly. "Now," he added
when Harry hesitated.
"Not even been back a day and already in the headmaster's office,"
Lucinda mumbled. "What have you done?"
"Nothing," Harry huffed. "I don't think I have."
"Potter!" Karkaroff snapped.
With a sigh, Harry gathered his things and followed Karkaroff from
the classroom.
The man said nothing as he led Harry through the draughty corridors
of the school but led him to the fourth floor and into a much warmer
office where Harry was surprised by the presence of Viktor.
"Whatever it is, it has nothing to do with me," Harry defended
immediately.
"Shut up and sit down, Potter," Karkaroff huffed irritably. "If you had
been brought here for every transgression of yours, I expect I would
have had to install an additional desk for you to work from."
"So, I'm not in trouble?"
"Not this time," Karkaroff replied with a shake of his head. "We
merely wish to discuss something with you."
Harry's gazed shifted to the smirking Viktor.
"Why do I have a feeling that I'm not going to like where this
conversation is going?"
"You will love it," Viktor replied, not even attempting to hide the edge
of sarcasm to his tone.
"If it involves you, I bloody doubt it," Harry muttered. "What have you
gotten me into this time, Krum?"
Viktor's grin only widened in response and Harry felt his stomach
sink.
That grin from the Bulgarian never boded well, but it wasn't Krum
that spoke.
"Viktor intends to enter the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Karkaroff
announced.
Harry leaned back in his chair and frowned, his gaze shifting
between the two.
"I do not know what impression you have of the nature of our
relationship, Headmaster, but what Viktor does is his business. I
don't see why I had to be dragged from my lesson to be told this."
Karkaroff's nostrils flared irritably and Krum attempted to conceal a
snort behind his hand.
"You are being told this because it concerns you also!" the
headmaster snapped. "Viktor's Quidditch training cannot be allowed
to suffer. As his main assistant, it would be most useful for you to
come along, if you consent to, of course."
Harry's frown deepened.
"I'm being given a choice?"
Karkaroff nodded.
"I explained to Viktor that I would not force you to come," he replied
reassuringly. "I have not forgotten that there is a reason you chose to
attend Durmstrang instead of accepting your place at Hogwarts.
Neither I nor Viktor wish to force you."
"But I would appreciate it if you did," Viktor broke in. "I really want to
enter the tournament, Harry, but I still need you to help me."
"What about the Hogwarts students? Surely there will be someone
there who can fill in for me."
"Do you really believe that?" Viktor sighed.
Harry deflated as he shook his head.
It was unlikely any would be able to match Viktor, and they certainly
wouldn't be trying for his benefit.
Krum could be injured if someone attempted to do something foolish.
"Bloody hell," Harry cursed. "Can I not just portkey in when I'm
needed?"
"Portkeying from here to Hogwarts is impossible," Karkaroff
explained, "and trying to make the journey daily elsewhere to get
there would be quite the inconvenience. It would simply be easier for
you to come as part of the delegation. You will be given the
opportunity to expand on your studies and learn from some of the
very best in their fields. Hogwarts has an excellent staff."
Viktor offered him a pleading look, and Harry suspected there was
more to it than he was saying.
With Harry going, Viktor would not have to handle all of the attention
being on him.
Much to his chagrin, and Krum's knowledge, Harry was famous there
too.
Still, he knew he had to confront it soon enough, and doing so at
Hogwarts would be easier than in the public sphere outside of the
British school.
"Fine, but I have some conditions," Harry declared.
"Name them," Karkaroff sighed.
"I want complete access to all works available in the library for the
rest of my time here."
"Done," Karkaroff agreed immediately. "What else?"
Truthfully, Harry couldn't think of anything else that would be of
advantage to him, but he wasn't going to concede so easily, and a
grin formed as another idea formulated in his mind.
"Only one other thing," he mused aloud. "Viktor here will be the one
to tell my Aunt."
Karkaroff offered the older boy a look of sympathy, but Viktor
nodded.
"I'll do it," he sighed. "I'll write to her tonight."
"You will not," Harry snorted. "You will speak to her over the floo."
Viktor cursed in his native tongue, and Harry took no small amount
of glee from his discomfort.
If he was to help the other boy, he wanted to receive some
amusement from the situation.
There would undoubtedly not be much to have when he arrived at
Hogwarts, other than seeing Pansy again sooner than he had
expected.
It had been over a year since their last visit together, and though
they wrote often enough, he still missed his first friend.
"I will do it," Viktor huffed.
"Good, there's no time like the present," Harry replied, nodding
towards the fireplace.
"You wish for him to do what?" Cassiopeia whispered.
Krum withered under her gaze, the flickering flames doing little to
hide his apprehension.
"I would like Harry to come with me to Hogwarts so that I may enter
the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I need him to help with my Quidditch
training," he explained.
Cassiopeia hummed thoughtfully.
"Has Harry agreed to go with you?"
Krum nodded.
"He said that I had to be the one to ask you."
"I see," Cassiopeia murmured. "I suppose he is feeling rather
amused watching you squirm."
Krum turned away for a moment before looking at her once more.
"He is finding the whole thing rather funny," he confirmed with a
scowl.
"I thought as much. I would speak with my nephew please, Mr
Krum."
The boys' head vanished and was replaced a moment later by Harry
who offered her an innocent smile.
"I did not expect you to be so keen," Cassie commented.
"I'm not, but Viktor needs me."
Cassie nodded her understanding.
"For the record, I do not like the idea, but it has its merits," she
sighed. "It is an opportunity for you to begin making the
acquaintances of those you will one day serve on the Wizengamot
with, and to learn of the political field in Britain, but you must be
careful, Harry."
"I will be."
"Do not intend to make enemies, but do not allow any to take
liberties with you," Cassie urged. "You will be the Lord of two
influential families, and you must find the right balance to satisfy
both. Find those that you share beliefs with, and perhaps you will lay
some foundations for the future."
Harry nodded.
"Good, and I will be close by if I am needed," she informed him. "I
think it is time I check on Grimmauld Place again anyway."
"You're coming with me?"
"With you, no, but I will be in Britain," Cassie said firmly. "You are still
only fourteen, and should any attempt to take advantage of you, I will
be on hand to deal with it. I may even have better luck finding your
idiot godfather. Now, behave, but not too much. You do have a
reputation to uphold and one to forge in Britain."
With that, Cassie closed the connection and released a deep breath.
She truly did not like the idea of Harry returning to Britain so soon,
but it provided an opportunity to establish a foundation for his future
that he shouldn't miss.
Besides, Hogwarts truly was an excellent school, and in agreeing to
helping Viktor, he would get to experience one year of it.
Lucinda looked on as Harry checked the contents of his trunk in the
common room. He would be making his way to the ship with the
seventh years who had opted to submit their name for the
tournament in a little over an hour.
She hadn't expected that him being pulled from class would result in
him announcing his departure for the remainder of the school year,
and she hadn't commented on it, though a knot in her stomach had
only grown tighter the closer the time for Harry to leave came.
Would she miss him?
She snorted to herself at the thought but could not deny the truth of
the matter.
Lucinda would miss him, despite his proclivity of being able to get
under her skin, his mocking of her, and that stupid grin he wore when
he knew he was in trouble with her.
Regardless of all of these things, Harry was the one who understood
her, knew how to lift her mood or distract her from the worst of her
cravings when they surfaced.
He was always on hand to give her a Blood-Pop or give her
something else to focus on when she needed it most, and
Durmstrang simply wouldn't be the same without him.
"You really should speak to him," Ana whispered.
"Why would I speak with him?"
"Because he probably thinks you don't care that he is going," the
half-elf sighed. "You've not said a word to him in almost two days."
Lucinda shrugged.
"He's going. Nothing is going to change that."
"You should at least tell him that you will miss him, or something."
"She's right," Summerbee interjected. "You've been a miserable cow
since he told us. More miserable than usual."
"I have not!" Lucinda defended hotly.
"Fine, do as you please," Ana huffed, "but you'll regret it when he's
gone."
Lucinda quirked a brow at the girl and shook her head, her attention
shifting to Harry as he pocketed his trunk.
"That's everything," he declared. "Bloody hell, you're all acting like
I'm dead."
"We just don't want you to go," Cain replied. "It will be hell here
without you. Barkus will be a shit again."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Barkus," Harry chuckled. "There are
more than enough things dotted around the school to keep him
occupied. You'll be fine. You've got your potion, and I'm hoping that
by the time I'm back next year, I'll be able to help you more," he
added ominously.
Cain merely shook his head in response, his demeanour similar to
how it had been during the days leading up to the full moon before
Harry had begun supplying the werewolves with the Wolfsbane.
"Well, I'll just miss you," Summerbee declared, throwing her arms
boldly around him. "You'd better write and tell me about all the
trouble you get into."
"I will," Harry assured her with a smirk as the girl released him.
"And me," Ana insisted as she followed Summerbee's example.
"Bring me back something nice from Britain."
"Like what?" Harry asked curiously.
"Whatever you think I will like."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"I'm sure I can find something, and what about you, Jonas? Would
you like something to help conceal that mug of yours?"
The boy laughed heartily as he clapped Harry on the shoulder.
"Just you coming back will do me, Potter," he returned. "Don't leave
me with this rabble of half-bloods and half-breeds any longer than
necessary."
"You're a half-breed," Harry pointed out.
"True," Jonas conceded. "How about some British liver?"
"Human or animal?"
Jonas grimaced.
"I've not resorted to cannibalism, but don't tempt me," he warned.
"You'll still be sharing a room with me for three more years when you
come back. I might get the urge to harvest yours whilst you sleep."
Harry chuckled.
"Well, if you can take it, then you've earned it," he quipped. "Take
care of yourself, Jonas."
Harry then turned his attention to Lucinda, and she fought the urge
to meet his gaze, but could not ignore him pulling her into his arms.
"I've hidden 295 Blood-Pops under your bed, one for every day that
I'm not here for the rest of the year," he whispered. "If you need any
more, or anything else, just write to me."
He said nothing else, but gave her a final squeeze before releasing
her, and Lucinda felt a conflicting mixture of warmth and the pang of
loss fill her as she watched him take his leave of the common room.
She could feel the burning gazes of Summerbee and Ana on her,
and she made the mistake of looking at the two girls.
"If you don't go now, he'll be gone."
With a huff, Lucinda rolled her eyes at them before following in
Harry's footsteps, her walk turning into a run as she left the common
room.
She caught up to him in the next corridor, but as she did so, she
didn't even know what it was she wanted to say.
Harry paused and looked at her questioningly, and with no words still
coming to her, Lucinda pulled him into a tight embrace.
"I will miss you," she muttered, "but if you tell anyone I said that…"
"You'll bite me and spend the rest of eternity making my life a
misery?" Harry questioned amusedly.
"Exactly," Lucinda agreed with a nod. "You can write to me, if you
like."
"I will," Harry promised, "and I'll be back before you know it, and
you'll want to kill me within five minutes."
"Probably," Lucinda conceded, "but there's not anyone else I'd rather
think about killing."
"I'm not sure if that is a compliment or an ominous future for myself,"
Harry replied with a frown. "Look after yourself."
Lucinda could only watch as Harry left, and though she was pleased
that she had not allowed her pride to make a fool of her, she didn't
feel any better about him going.
Despite her rather closed-off and often aloof nature, she would miss
Harry, and she hoped that he would truly miss her too