Chapter Text
Chapter 15
Notes:
A/N: Halo, dears!
Very fragrant flowers in the garden,
lots of different kinds of flowers.
How are you friends,
long time no see?
Please enjoy this chapter after a long wait. Don't forget to vote and comment:
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the thick darkness of the forbidden forest, a figure lay face down on the wet ground. It couldn't be distinguished whether his clothes or skin were torn; merges with damp and cold soil. A crow hovered low and perched on his shoulder. Its beady black eyes moved watchfully, and its sharp beak suddenly pecked,
pecking,
pecking,
Pecking and tearing at the flesh of the man whose face was frozen in an expression of terror.
The crow flew back into the cloudy sky, making a loud voice as if calling the others. Their horde swirled like a whirlwind in the air, among the gray sky as if in celebration. One of them darted flying down the walls of Hogwarts.
Harry's silver eyes saw a raven passing in front of a window in one of the tall towers. His shadow flashed on the stone wall behind him. He frowned, as if he heard a whisper of bad omen.
"My King."
When he turned his head, those silver eyes had returned to their original green color.
Antonio Dolohov stood in the doorway with an expressionless face. The young man nodded at him, opened the door for them and followed Harry a step behind. Harry stepped down the circular stone stairs that took them to the common room. If he looked down, he could see a group of first year students standing in the middle of the room listening to Professor Prince's lecture.
Silently, Harry sat down on one of the sofas in front of the extinguished fire. Antonio sat to his left, he grabbed the teapot and poured its contents into Harry's cup. Then, one by one, his comrades emerged from the shadows and sat down around him.
Harry muttered softly, "I wonder when Professor Prince will formally announce his name change..."
Antonio Dolohov answered, "I don't think so, if we look at the Professor's character. I don't think it matters what they all call him. After all, important people know what to call him."
"Important people?"
"The Purebloods, or the first generation of Purebloods and the top officials of the Ministry. There are protocols for every official activity that concerns the hierarchical system of magical society, but apart from that, it seems that man doesn't care enough. Moreover, the world of Academia is a little more flexible. If the Hierarchy system is implemented crudely -raw at Hogwarts, who knows how much blood feud there is because those kids accidentally offended each other."
"Hm... interesting..." Harry imagined children like himself and Hermione, who took their first steps into the strange world of magic, and unknowingly broke pureblood protocol and indirectly gave rise to a blood feud... it's only fitting that there has always been disputes between purebloods and muggleborns... which sometimes muggleborns themselves don't understand where the dispute comes from.
If the Ministry had provided sufficient foundation for Muggleborns before stepping into the wizarding world, perhaps all of this conflict could have been prevented. But the Ministry was too worried about what muggleborns thought about pureblood protocols, most of which were still steeped in paganism; worried that this would create fear for Christians to assimilate into magical society. If this happens, then Muggleborns never learn to control their magic and end up arousing suspicion among the non-magical public.
However, by choosing to do nothing at all, the Ministry of Magic has indirectly created factions that will clash with each other. Purebloods feel that Muggleborns do not respect the traditions of the land where they stand, while Muggleborns consider purebloods to be a group of arrogant people who only care about blood and customs without understanding the meaning and importance of this to magic. This will continue to be a vicious circle.
This is the first agenda that Harry must complete if this war ends. Improving magical society, so that civil wars like this no longer occur.
Hogwarts' first dinner was over. It was getting late, and many chose to return to the dorms to sleep. But, time hasn't stopped for the Slytherin first year students. Professor Prince did not dismiss them after giving the annual short lecture. The man handed over authority to the Prefect and left the common room.
The students, who were less than one meter tall, huddled together with feelings of doubt and anxiety. Plus, the gloomy and serious atmosphere of their new dormitory was really different from the atmosphere at home. After all, they were just kids and tonight was their first time truly being away from home.
There weren't many first years. That was the impact of the wizard war which almost killed half the wizarding population in England. Overall, the number of wizard-borns was reduced by more than half, with Slytherin house never getting any muggleborns.
Gordon Punmell, who now serves as Prefect this year, stood in front of them with a serious and gloomy face. Then, suddenly the fireplace lit up with large flames rising behind it. There was a gasp and a scream of surprise.
"Please be quiet," he said flatly to the children. Then, he turned around and knelt down on one leg. "My King."
Harry sat in the middle of the Knights of Walpurgins. But there is something different about this formation than before, such as the disappearance of Marcus due to his duties as an Apprentice and also the loss of several members due to the indirect impact of the attack on the stadium. The absent members of the Knights of Walpurgins were the children of captured Death Eaters. They chose to leave as a form of protest against Harry being chosen to be the next King.
But there are also those who still survive because they have different political views from their parents, such as Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs. Or changed after getting to know Harry's personality, like Antonio Dolohov. The rest were newcomers from Harry's chosen people; Tracey Davis, Blaize Zabini, Dephne Greengrass, Theodore Nott and the silent twins Hestia and Flora Carrow; Slytherin purebloods who previously had no part in Slytherin politics because of their neutral views.
Yes, are you aware? There's no Draco Malfoy and Pancy Parkinson there. This wasn't because Harry was deliberately excluding them. However, due to closed negotiations between the pureblood families, the Malfoy family would not stand under Harry, but side by side with him. He could understand the steps the Malfoy family had taken; they were still considering the possibility of the dark lord's return. And when that happens, Harry needs someone on the inside to be his eyes and ears.
Seeing the powerful formation, the first years dropped to their knees in imitation of Gordon Punmell. On the children's faces, quite a few of them couldn't hide their amazed expressions. This shows the shift in pureblood politics due to the propaganda that Harry and his cronies have spread.
Different from the previous year; no one questioned Harry's power anymore. The entire wizarding world knows. And if any of them questioned the purity of Harry's blood because of who his mother was, then it would not only be the knights who would fight, but the entire wizarding world. He is now the crownless prince of the wizarding world.
Harry smiled at that. All these formalities were of no importance to Harry who had been raised like a slave. In fact, he found it ironic, and wanted to laugh when he received this special treatment. But he knew, this was all Slytherin's way of showing their respect. It was a typical Slytherin who was cunning, ambitious, determined, self-centered, and above all looking for a leader. Making Slytherins naturally always look for leaders, or those who can be led.
"Hello," said Harry in a cheerful tone amidst the somber atmosphere. The cheerful tone has the opposite effect and makes the atmosphere even more tense. Especially with Akkura creeping up on his side. The boys refrained from lifting their feet when they saw him pass in front of them.
"Welcome to Slytherin dormitory," he greeted. "A hostel that will take you to the ambitions you want to achieve." Harry smiled. Antonio Dolohov accepted Harry's empty cup and poured new tea into it, as if this was just an ordinary banquet, and in front of them did not stand a group of nervous eleven-year-olds.
"I'm sure the Perfects and the Head of Dormitory have explained the rules in this dormitory well. Not to mention, maybe you have heard a lot of stories from your parents." Harry crossed his legs, and Akkura hissed at the movement disturbing his sleep, she moved around Harry's neck once more. Not realizing the impact of terror around him. Harry continued, "I'm sure you already had expectations of what it was like when you entered this house. Perhaps, some of you were even told about Slytherin's rules, about houses that only select purebloods or even houses belonging to dark wizards," Harry grinned, making some some of them winced and even broke out in cold sweat.
"There may be some truth to that, after all, until now there has never been a muggleborn chosen in this house," but from his tone, anyone could tell Harry wasn't done yet. "But, just so you know, more than anything, more than lineage or blood purity, nothing is more important than those who have power." Simultaneously, the air pressure around them slowly decreased. It seemed to reflect Harry's magic rising and pressing, not in a threatening way, but more to emphasize his statement.
"Within every witch there is power , which, if you can find and use it, will be able to make everything you dream or imagine come true. Not because of blood or heredity." Harry leaned forward. Her emerald eyes seemed to glint with magic. "I hope you can achieve all of that in this dorm." Then, the heavy magic disappeared as Harry's expression softened again and his leaning body relaxed. With a smile and a cheerful tone, he added one last time, "Slytherin does not tolerate bullying, exclusion or insults involving blood or ancestry. If you violate this, then you will face me," his smile did not at all reduce the intimidation of his threat.
"Yes, my lord!" whispered the children in a tone full of admiration. The awe that arose, perhaps, was the result of experiencing strong magical pressure for the first time, or because of the powerful display of power in which wizards from great families were willing to submit under the magic prince, or because of the doctrines given by the Daily Prophert, or even a combination of all of these things. The children showed 100% obedience and loyalty, as if truly standing in front of their king.
After the group of first years left and were escorted by the two Prefects to their respective rooms, the members of the Knights of Walpurgins had not moved from their places.
"How is the Ministry doing now?" said Harry while glancing at the headline on the front page of the Daily Profert which reported on the Triwizard Tournament. Since it was announced, the news has spread throughout the wizarding world. Of course, this has pros and cons, especially because there is a reason why the Triwizard Tournament was once banned from being held. "Why was the decision so sudden?"
Antonio answered, "The Ministry took a political maneuver that would be able to raise the prestige of the British Ministry of Magic after the great chaos that occurred at the Quidditch World Cup. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, decided to reopen the Triwizard Tournament so that the eyes of all Europe would return to England and see the greatness of the Ministry of Magic England. We all know how much influence wizarding schools have on the politics of the wizarding world. In my opinion, he indirectly wants to remind the wizarding world that Hogwarts as the oldest wizarding school in Europe is in England."
"With the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Actually, this is not a new agenda. For a hundred years, there have been several attempts by pureblood factions to hold this tournament again. But the Ministry continues to reject it. Maybe now the Ministry is starting to give up hope of finding ways to revive its prestige and reduce public anger. "With Turmanen's friendship, we hope to be able to make all of that happen."
"I wouldn't be commenting if this didn't involve young wizards. Is the Ministry stupid enough to sacrifice the lives of the best students from each school? I can't believe it. Didn't Dumbledore try to prevent him from becoming head of the Wizengamot?"
"I don't think... Dumbledore has the authority to do that. He may have the power to suppress the Ministry of Magic's decision, but stopping it is almost impossible..." said one of the Carrow twins.
Harry sighed. It seems they need to go with the flow this time. There was nothing he could do about this kind of irresistible future.
The meeting didn't last long because the night was getting late. One by one, the members of the Knights of Walpurgins gave him a salute like medieval knights by bowing before him and kissing him on the top of his finger. Harry just remained silent, holding back the difficult feeling. While he was alone, a man suddenly appeared from the shadows and touched Harry's shoulder.
Harry jumped and Akkura hissed, but his magic didn't fly dangerously after the two magics touched each other. Marcus' hand cupped her cheek, while he stood behind her protectively.
"Marcus."
Harry's hand was taken in his, and slowly the man walked around and knelt in front of him, bringing their heads to the same level. Unlike the others, Marcus kissed the lord's ring on Harry's hand, touching his lips to the cold metal. A mocking smile appeared on his face. Gone are the typical student uniforms, now he wears a formal suit in the form of a black shirt and trousers. The dark blue robe fell around his shoulders, touching the floor like a curtain that conveyed power. He looked serious and formal with that appearance. His deadpan expression didn't change when he saw Harry, but his eyes softened.
"You look formal."
"I came straight here as soon as dinner was over."
"You've been here all along."
"Yes. You look powerful, even without a robe or crown."
Harry rolled his eyes, "Since when do I need all that to look powerful?"
Marcus grinned, "As far as I remember, the old Harry Potter wasn't this scary."
"Whose fault is it? You forced me to learn all those boring manners. How was your first day as an Apprentice?" Harry's eyes followed Marcus' steps who conjured a new sofa in front of Harry and sat there.
"Other than having to create modules and a syllabus, the rest is nothing special. I'll be taking over all the First Year students' Rune classes."
"Are you staying in the dorms tonight?"
Marcus laughed, "I don't have a room here anymore. Do you want to see my new room?"
Harry raised an eyebrow.
Of course it's against the rules. But who in Slytherin house would dare to reprimand Harry. Even the Prefect looked away when he saw him sneak out after Marcus. They ended up in a quiet corridor near the astronomy tower, also close to the room of the rune professor, Bathsheda Babbling. Marcus opened the door and invited Harry in. The room is more worthy of being called an apartment than a room. This was more luxurious than Harry had expected, and he had already been into Professor Prince's room.
The room had a fireplace that was already burning when they entered. In front of him there is a sofa under which is a Turkish carpet. There is another door leading to the bedroom and stairs leading to the second floor corridor, the walls of which are filled with books and items from Marcus's collection. At the end there is a tall window that can be opened and in front of the window, a work desk stands.
Harry moved to open the bedroom. The room has a private bathroom. More bookshelves and a work desk. There was a small fireplace in front of his large bed. On the stone wall is the Flint family symbol.
"Wow... Dumbledore is quite nice to you..."
Marcus snorted. "When I first came in the room wasn't this big."
"Is the room expanding?"
"Hm..." Marcus nodded, "Maybe it's not a figment if Hogwarts has a soul. It can play favorites." It's pretty clear Hogwarts has a sense of humor, it sometimes sends the students for a loop by moving the ladder in the wrong direction.
Without realizing it or meaning it, Harry placed his hand on the cold wall. A smile appeared on his face as his magic tugged gently, like a naughty child tugging at the ends of his friend's braids. There was a sudden pull back on his magic, a tingling sensation that shot through his stomach, sending images of Hogwarts laughing.
Harry laughed. It had felt like a long time since he last interacted with Hogwarts. Even the principal does not get that privilege. The man only had complete control over the castle, but had no interaction with it. It seemed that Marcus was among his favorite children, as was Harry.
"Have you finished greeting each other?"
"Yeah..."
Marcus pulled Harry to sit in front of the living room fireplace. Suddenly, Dobby came in carrying a plate of biscuits and English tea.
"Trims, Dobby."
The house elf lowered his body, before finally disappearing. Maybe not actually disappearing, but hiding in the shadows, waiting to be told to.
Marcus flicked his hand and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck immediately stood up when he felt the intensity of the magic. His eyes were drawn to the rune symbols carved into several parts of the stone walls. Rune models that catch eavesdroppers, animagus and dangerous magic. Harry raised an eyebrow. It seems he wasn't brought here just to have a look?
Noticing Harry's gaze, Marcus smiled crookedly. He stood up to the counter to get an envelope. "I got a letter from father," he wasn't the type to beat around the bush, so Marcus got straight to the point. "The wizarding families who are in the same faction as the Flint Family are exerting pressure maneuvers on Dolores Umbridge. We are fortunate that this woman is aggressively proposing a bill to exclude Werewolves from the category of wizards, so we have a reasonable enough reason to oppose it. With the number of seats in the House of Potter and Peverell combined, we can push that woman pretty hard."
"Hoo..." Harry whispered in an interested tone.
"We are just waiting for the right time to remove him from the position of Senior Deputy Minister of Magic."
"Rita found something?"
"Not only something... did you know? Not only was that woman involved in the murder with Avanda Kadavra, but also the Imperius curse—"
"You don't need to tell me the details," Harry muttered. Besides, I already knew it. Marcus shot him a sharp look, as if he could read Harry's thoughts. But Harry ignored him and instead asked, "So... when does Lord Gideon plan to attack?"
"What's clear is that after the Triwizard Tournament is over. This tournament takes all the public's attention. We need a big impact when bringing this case to the magic council. If it doesn't have enough impact, I'm afraid of protests from the DMS."
Harry nodded. "There is no desire on the part of the DMS to punish Dolores in their own way?"
"Not right now. But I'm sure they will do something. There are many ways they can do it once Dolores is in Azkaban.
Harry nodded, "There's no way they wouldn't want to be involved, because the Ministry's punishment doesn't cover all the crimes Dolores has ever committed against magical creatures. No one in the Ministry knows about her actions in the kidnapping of the Veela children."
"Not only that, in his letter, father also mentioned Sirius Black." After a while, Marcus commented, "Not only that, in his letter, father also mentioned Sirius Black."
Harry's hand that was taking his tea stopped for a moment in the air. When he saw that there was no response from Harry, Marcus continued, "Sirius Black also expressed his intention to join the faction. If I may conclude it, the man showed his desire to be close to you as his best friend's son. Even if he had to enter politics and join with the pureblood faction he hated . "
Harry raised an eyebrow, slightly surprising Marcus as he didn't seem to care, "And Lord Gideon's decision?"
"Father accepts it."
"Lord Gideon is quite confident. He is not worried about the possibility that Sirius Black is a spy sent by Dumbledore."
"It doesn't matter. There's a phrase that says; keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But who knows, maybe that guy really wants to improve his relationship with you. Who knows if we can draw him to our side."
Harry toyed with his teaspoon, his lips curved into a small smile, "If I were Lord Gideon, I would be careful when playing around with him. After all, who knows the impulsive mind of one Sirius Black. He's not an easy man. It's like a gamble if you want to comparing how important my relationship with him is to his loyalty to Dumbledore is as terrifying as brainwashing."
Marcus pondered for a moment, "I will convey your opinion to my father. But, even if it is a dangerous maneuver, I think it is quite relevant. We can use it as a bridge to find out the Order of the Phoenix's plans."
"Just so Lord Gideon remembers that Sirius Black is a double-edged sword. Just be careful."
The next three days passed without any major incidents, except for Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. It could be said that the real incident was Professor Prince's anger, who seemed to want revenge for not seeing Neville during the summer holidays and gave him detention, causing the boy to almost faint because he was ordered to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.
The Slytherin and Gryffindor fourth years had been eagerly awaiting Moody's first lesson, so they had arrived early for lunch and were crowding in front of his class before the bell had even rung. The only one who hadn't shown up was Hermione, who had arrived just before class started.
Barty Jr. in his Moody disguise took out the attendance list, shook his long, gray hair out of his face, and began taking roll. His normal eyes moved steadily following the names on the list, while his magical eyes swiveled, glaring intently at each child who answered.
"Okay," he said, when the last child had declared himself present. "I've received a letter from Professor Lupine about this class. It seems you've got a thorough foundation in dealing with Dark creatures—you've studied Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappa, and werewolves, correct?"
The children murmured in agreement.
"But you guys are behind—very behind—in dealing with curses," the man said. "So I'm here to open your minds to what one wizard can do to another wizard."
"So... straight to the point. Curses. There are various forms and strengths of curses. Well, according to the Ministry of Magic, I was only asked to teach you about the counter curses, I was not allowed to show you what an illegal Dark Arts curse looks like. That's before you're in sixth form. You're not considered old enough to deal with it. But Professor Dumbledore has rated your nerves highly. He thinks you'll be able to, and I think the sooner you know what you're up against, the better defend yourself from something you have never seen? The witch who is going to perform an illegal curse on you will not tell you what she is going to do. She will not politely ask permission to do it. You must always be alert and alert . You must put that away, Miss Brown, while I'm talking."
Lavender jumped and her face flushed red. He had just shown his horoscope to Parvati under the table. Apparently his magical eye can see through wood, not just through the back of his head.
"So... do any of you know what curses carry the most severe penalties under the wizarding laws?"
"Er," said Ron hesitantly, "my father once told me... It's called the Imperius Curse, or something like that?"
"Ah, yes," said Barty Jr. happily. "Your father definitely knows about that curse. The Imperius Curse once threw the Ministry into chaos."
Barty Jr stood with difficulty on his unbalanced legs, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass tube. Three large black spiders were running around inside it. Harry felt Ron move back slightly next to him. Ron hates spiders. Barty jr reached into the tube, caught a spider and held it in the palm of his hand, so everyone could see it. Then he pointed his wand at the spider and muttered, "Imperio!"
The spider jumped from Barty jr's hand on a fine silk thread and began swinging back and forth, like a trapeze artist. He stretched out his legs stiffly, then plunged backwards, broke the thread and landed on the table, then somersaulted around the table. Barty Jr jerked his stick, and the spider stood up on its hind legs and began to move with tap dance movements.
Everyone laughed—except Barty.
"You think it's funny, don't you?" he growled. "Would you like it if I did it to you?"
The laughter immediately stopped. "Total control," Barty Jr said quietly as the spider coiled itself up and started rolling around. "I can make him jump from the window, drown himself, throw himself into your throat..."
Ron shuddered.
"Many years ago, there were many wizards who were controlled with the Imperius Curse."
Harry understood Barty Jr was talking about the days when Voldemort was in power. Also what happened to himself in his father's power.
"The Ministry has a lot of trouble, trying to sort out who is forced to act, and who does of their own accord. The Imperius Curse can be overcome, and I will teach you how, but it requires a strong character, and not everyone has it. It is better to avoid it if possible. BE ALERT AT ALL TIMES!" he shouted, and all the kids jumped.
Barty jr picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the tube. "Does anyone know anything else? Another forbidden curse?"
Hermione's hand shot up in the air again, and to Harry's surprise Neville's hand did too. The only subject where Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology, his favorite subject. Neville himself seemed surprised by his courage.
"Yes?" Barty Jr asked, his magical eyes turning to look at Neville.
"There is—the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville quietly, but clearly.
Barty Jr stared intently at Neville, this time with both eyes. "Your name is Longbottom?" he asked, his magical eye looking down to check the attendance list. Neville nodded nervously, but the man didn't ask anything else. Looking around the class, his hand went into the tube to pick up the next spider and placed it on the table. The spider remained silent, apparently so scared that it couldn't move.
"The Cruciatus Curse," Barty said. "You have to be a little older to understand it better," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"
The spider bubbled. Now he's bigger than a tarantula. Without further hesitation, Ron pushed his chair back, as far away from the giant spider as possible. Barty raised her hand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"
All of the spider's legs immediately bent and attached to its body. He rolled over and started twitching horribly, shaking left and right. No sound came out, but Harry was sure that if the spider could make a sound it would be screaming.
Barty doesn't put his wand away, and the spider starts shaking and flailing wildly...
"Stop it!" Hermione exclaimed loudly.
Harry turned to look at him. Hermione looked not at the spider but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw Neville's hands clutching the table in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide in horror.
Harry muttered, " Portego Horribilis ," silver magic enveloped the spider and cut through the forbidden curse. Portego Horribilis is the strongest variation to protect against anything except Killing Curse.
Barty raised her wand, ending her terrifying spell.
Harry said, " Reducio ," and the spider shrunk down to its original size.
Barty looked at Harry who returned his gaze with a flat look.
Harry said, "Pain... that's what the three forbidden curses bring. You don't need a screwdriver or knife to torture people. But does anyone know the original purpose for which the forbidden curses were created?"
Barty raised an eyebrow, her expression looking interested. "From the way you talk, you don't seem to agree with the Ministry's opinion on what it teaches about the purpose of this curse?"
"There's a reason, sir, why this curse wasn't called a forbidden curse until 1717. I wouldn't be surprised if no one knew about it, since this information was removed from public records a long time ago."
Seeing everyone looking confused, he added, "The same wizard who created what is now called the unforgivable curse, he is a Magizoologist, with a penchant for taking in abused magical animals. His rehabilitation sometimes uses the imperius curse to guide the magical animals to understand that not all humans are the same, nine out of ten his attempts were successful. Some magical animals he couldn't save, so he created a spell that could end their lives painlessly.
"But that's not to be confused with the Cruciatus curse…" a whisper came from a trembling voice, and Harry didn't need to turn to know it was Neville Longbottom.
"What a shame it could be," said Harry. "His wife was hit by a curse blast on her back, which caused a lot of damage to her nerves. He created a spell to help her nerves work again without knowing how much pain her wife was experiencing when hit by this new spell. He vowed not to use the spell again. However , his wife swore her legs throbbed for several hours after that and she could feel her legs again, although only temporarily. She refused to give up and told her husband to perform the Cruciatus on her again.
According to the journal, it was the hardest thing the man had ever done, but he did it anyway. A year later, his wife was walking again, it is worth emphasizing, this was before the discovery of modern medicine. In fact, the unforgivable curse used to be used by St. Mungo's from generation to generation, before the war broke out and the Ministry of Magic declared this spell a forbidden curse."
The room was very quiet because everyone seemed to enter a trance from hearing Harry's voice.
"Unfortunately not all spells are used with the same purpose as when they were originally created. All spells have the capacity to be used in the wrong way, even white magic spells like the Rictusempra tickle spell or the Stumbling spell... and many more..."
After a long silence, Barty said, "Interesting. If I may ask, where did you find that journal?"
Harry smiled, "Luckily, the journal is still safely stored in the Peverell family Vault."
As soon as they heard Peverell's name mentioned, there was a little commotion among the children. Maybe everyone already knows who Harry is and where his ancestors came from. But this was the first time Peverell's name came out of his mouth. They think, well, of course it's not surprising that it's Harry Potter. No one could imagine how rich he was with the money and all the knowledge stored in his family's Vault.
Paying no attention, or unaware of the commotion caused by this, Harry added with a smile, "Unfortunately, that can't be used as an answer to the exam. So we still have to listen to Professor Moody's class."
The man laughed so hard that he burst out laughing. Making the tense atmosphere of their first black magic class this year warm and relaxed again. Neville didn't seem to be shaking anymore. In fact, he now seemed to be thinking about Harry's words seriously, if that was what his expression meant.
Barty calmed down again. And the madness in his eyes subsided. "Don't you have any desire to publish an article about that?"
"Oh?"
"You have a lot of data that all wizards in this era are blind to. Isn't it an obligation for wizards to uncover the mysteries of magic. It doesn't have to be about forbidden curses, but it could be anything."
Harry realized that wasn't Professor Moody's suggestion, it wasn't his style. Now the one speaking in front of him was Barty Jr., and he could feel his gaze being gentle and different from that of an old man who was a war veteran.
"Of course, sir. I'll consider it. It seems like a good thing to do," Harry answered.
Their class ended without Neville experiencing any trauma. This could be said to be a success. As the children started to leave the room, there was a slight traffic jam at the door. Curious, Harry looked outside and found Luna sitting cross-legged in the middle of the road.
"Luna?" Hermione pulled the girl aside, "What are you doing here."
"I want to hear Harry talk," she replied with wide eyes. "The lecture was really interesting..."
"Are you skipping class?" Draco said.
"Hm.... hm..."
Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry, "Luna, are you looking for me?"
The girl nodded.
"Is there something you want to talk about?"
"Yeah..."
"Not here?"
"He-em..."
"Okay." To the others, he said, "You guys go to the great hall first. I'll talk to Luna."
The others looked at him with strange expressions, even Hermione shook her head. They didn't understand why Harry had to deal with Luna whose words and actions could never be taken seriously?
But Harry knew more than that. That girl could be said to be the same as him, she also saw what others couldn't see in her own way. And even though his speech is full of riddles and convoluted things, he always has meaning as long as you know where to look.
Harry took the girl into an empty classroom.
"Alright, what's up, Luna?" he said patiently.
Suddenly the girl sat on the floor. Her pale blue eyes looked at him dreamily, "I want to give you an oath, My King..."
"I swear? Wasn't Lovegood already Peverell's vassal from the start?"
"Yes. As a vassal, but we are not bound by oaths and soul ties, I also want to be the first to give the oath..." the girl tilted her head, "Flint and Prince cannot be counted as the first, after all the one is soon to be your consort and the other is adoptive father."
"What the hell-"
"I, Luna Elizabeth Lovegood declare myself a Vassal of Hadrian James Peverell, so mote to be!"
Such powerful magic suddenly roared around them. Raised by an ancient covenant. The shadows around them darkened, and the magic stirred something in Harry. Harry took Luna's hand. His green eyes were now black as ink.
Harry's voice was distorted, as if it came from another realm, "Are you sure you are binding yourself to death, Luna Elizabeth Lovegood?"
"yakin... My Lord" Luna gemetar.
"Are you sure you tie your fate to me?"
"My destiny is always tied to you, My Lord."
"Are you sure you are ready to accept the duty of your ancestors?"
"With all my weaknesses, My Lord."
" Then you will become a balance. With your eyes, you will see which side is biased and your job is to balance it. So move to be!"
"So move to be!" whispered Luna while closing her eyes. At the same time, the web of fate stretched out like white strings that tangled between them.
Harry fell in front of the girl, still holding her hand. Luna slowly pulled Harry's head into her lap. The girl's blue eyes wandered to something far away; on what his ancestors had seen, as well as his descendants in the future.
"This way I and my descendants can protect you, Harry Potter." He could feel the sound of the universe beating, bringing them closer to the destined moment. In that future full of violence and destruction, even if Harry Potter could no longer shed tears, Luna would replace him.
Notes:
The next chapter is the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegation, FRIENDS!!
It's been a long time hee.... sorry, sorry... I hope it goes smoother in the next chapters. There are many reasons these years have felt like a roller coaster ride. But I won't discuss the reasons why the hiatus was so long. I will discuss why I finally returned to writing :D
I wrote this chapter until there are 4 versions. But nothing makes me satisfied. But for this final version, which I can finally accept, you could say I have to be grateful to the novel Battle of The Third Reich.
Yes, as the name suggests, it's the story of that war, between Nazi Germany and all European countries. This novel may sound unrelated to Harry Potter, but the inspiration really came from everywhere, even while sitting on the toilet (sorry).
However, I won't discuss the story, a typical war novel, the content is war. But the explanation of the characteristics of European people, who are actually very different even though they are on the same continent, is truly extraordinary. The novel explains in detail the characteristics of British, German, Russian, French, etc... which can really be a bridge for writing that has been blocked in the brain and cannot be written all this time. Their style of view at the end of WWI and the beginning of WWII, which also explains quite a lot of the characteristics and attitudes of British purebloods, or the characteristics of magical schools in Europe.... (okay I'll stop here).
If you like reading non-romance novels, specialize in war and don't mind writing in English, this novel is worth reading, especially because it's really good about politics. In fact, this novel answers quite a lot of questions that arose during college. That's all. Hope you like this chapter, and don't forget your comments and votes! Thanks!
Chapter 16
Notes:
Yuhuuu I'm back!!!
Chapter Text
Harry realized before he opened his eyes. For a few seconds, his body froze because his instincts told him he was not in his own bed. However, his body immediately relaxed when he felt the familiar ward .
"Marcus," she whispered in one breath.
The man walked over and helped her sit down. They stared at each other, Marcus studying Harry's expression.
"What happened?" Harry whispered warily. "How did I get here?"
"You do not remember?" Marcus touched the bracelet on Harry's wrist, he regained his composure when he realized the protective magic was still strong. "Luna brought you here. The little girl carried you on her back," her voice was flat, but the corners of her lips twitched to hold back laughter. "How could you suddenly fall asleep while chatting with him?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "I fell asleep?"
"Of course not, judging by your reaction. What was the last thing you remembered." Marcus still looked calm. Although his mind was full of speculation, including suspecting the possibility of Harry entering a trance, which made him lose consciousness, just like before. But it could also be something else, because this time, it seemed Harry didn't remember the situation clearly.
"Luna. It seems we were discussing something important... But,...why can't I remember?"
They looked at each other.
"Luna said I fell asleep while chatting with her?" Harry frowned. "What is that girl planning?"
Marcus' tone remained calm as he said, "Obliviate?" those words showed that, even as a third year student, he did not let down his guard. Marcus principle, Harry will not be truly safe, if he does not protect him with his own hands and blood.
"No way. Luna has no motive," he stood up from the bed, not looking worried at all. "I just need to ask him, so you don't have to worry. I have a feeling that this isn't anything dangerous..." but it wasn't an ordinary problem either , the sentence hung in the air, between them.
It was eight in the morning, still early enough to start the day at Hogwarts castle. Most of the students were still asleep, and would wake up in a hurry closer to nine o'clock. "I skipped a lot of classes yesterday," he grumbled.
Marcus smiled. "You slept quite well."
Harry intended to meet Luna in the Great Hall and they rushed there. When they arrived at the Entrance Hall, they could not move forward because there were many children gathered together and talking loudly, all crowding around the large notice board that had been erected at the foot of the marble stairs.
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
A DELEGATION FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DRUMSTRANG WILL ARRIVE AT 6:00 PM, FRIDAY, OCTOBER 30TH. LESSONS END HALF AN HOUR EARLY.
THE STUDENTS WERE ASKED TO PUT THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS IN THEIR RESPECTIVE ROOMS AND GATHER IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO WELCOME OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOME PARTY.
Less than a week to go!
Right on Samhain night.
This old castle will become even more lively with the arrival of many students from other magic schools. This was something rare, and he not only felt the passion of the students and professors, but also Hogwarts castle itself.
The crowd became increasingly crowded. Nobody seemed to want to leave immediately. In fact, many are starting to form small groups to chat. Seeing that the crowd wasn't ending, even Perfect was joining in, Marcus shouted, "Oi! Get out of my way!" His voice boomed, sharp and cold; sent to everyone who gets in the way using magic. Immediately, the children flinched in surprise and for a few seconds there was tense silence. Then they ran away.
Harry burst out laughing.
Marcus's anger was more effective than the professors' warnings, because he was unsparing when he threw out grade reductions and detentions. Not even a week as an Apprentice, he already had Professor Prince's detention class full of students who could be enslaved.
Yes, Marcus is that cruel. Harry wasn't exaggerating; that man was more sad*stic than Professor Prince.
As if to prove it, Marcus walked while flashing a cruel smile and shooting magic at the buttocks of children whose steps weren't fast enough. "Idiot kids," he grumbled under his breath.
Harry shook his head. A loving smile appeared on his face.
In the distance, Hermione shook her head exasperatedly and raised an eyebrow at Draco. The Slytherin boy responded by throwing a golden galleon into Hermione's hands. "I don't want to bet with you anymore," he grumbled. Hermione flashed him a winning smile. I don't know what the subject of their bet was. They looked suspicious.
Arriving at the great hall, Harry did not find Luna. He didn't eat breakfast or go to lunch. Harry was aware of Luna's habit of preferring to go down to the kitchen alone and eat with the house elves.
So, he and Marcus decided to visit the Ravenclaw dormitory after school hours. Harry also noticed, that the castle was given an extra thorough cleaning. Some very dirty paintings have been brushed on, making the subject of the painting unhappy. They sat huddled in their frames, grumbling angrily and wincing as they touched their faces which had become pink and sensitive from too much rubbing.
The armor suddenly gleamed and moved without a creak. And Argus Filch, the school custodian, was extraordinarily stern with anyone who forgot to rub their shoes on the doormat, until two first-year girls were hysterical with fear.
Some professors also tense up.
"Longbottom, don't give away the secret that you can't perform a simple Swapping Charm to anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall snapped at the end of the lesson. During the lesson, Neville accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.
At four in the afternoon, after lessons, Marcus and Harry walked down the quiet corridor to the eagle dormitory. The corridors were quieter than in the morning, as most students spent their time in the dorms or club activities.
Compared to Gryffindor house, the Ravenclaw house boys did not behave badly towards Slytherin students. Most of them only cared about studying and only looked disdainfully at Slytherin students who liked to bully, or cause riots; like when the Slytherin and Gryffindor gangs fight in the classroom or corridor and disturb the peace.
However, since Harry ascended the throne, the Slytherin students were much calmer, and most of them ignored the Gryffindor students' provocations. Of course, the intelligent Ravenclaws realized this, so their attitude towards Harry was very kind and polite. They even allowed the two Slytherins into their dorm.
In the recreation room, Luna was sitting with a tray of snacks and three cups of tea in front of her, as if waiting for them. Marcus raised an eyebrow and just sat next to Harry as if it was normal. Since he followed Harry, nothing could surprise him anymore. Especially when he was between these two Seers. Logic can't play with them.
"Hello, Harry," his eyes wandered, "You're full of questions."
"I won't beat around the bush. What happened yesterday, Luna? Why can't I remember?"
The girl tilted her head, "Don't remember?" After a moment's pause, he whispered, "That's really interesting. I was just giving you the Vassal oath."
Harry, who was sipping tea, spat out the tea and coughed. He was shocked because the way he answered made it seem like a normal occurrence. "You swore me vassal? But isn't Lovegood already Peverell's vassal?"
Luna nodded, "Yesterday's oath was a little different. I personally made an oath to you, my lord... even so, it shouldn't be a big deal. But why can't you remember it?" Luna asked. "Very weird."
The three of them fell silent in confusion.
Finally Marcus said, "Perhaps we could borrow the Pensieve to review your memories?"
"Pensieve?"
"A Pensieve is a magic object that can be used to review memories. The memories can then be viewed from a non-participant's third-person perspective. But it would be very difficult to find that item in this castle." And even if there were, most owners wouldn't lend them because they usually hold their most personal memories. But we're lucky, there's a Pensieve at Flint Manor. It's just that we need to wait until the winter holidays."
"Why wait that long? We can't just buy it?"
"Pensieves are rare objects. Not many experts can make them and rarely anyone wants to lend them because they store their most personal memories. I even heard that there were wizards who buried them with their bodies."
"But nothing strange happened at that time..." whispered Luna.
Marcus nodded. "But that doesn't necessarily mean there's nothing going on without our knowledge. Considering it concerns Harry, I don't want to take any chances."
Harry understood Marcus' concern, but he wasn't worried himself because his intuition told him it wasn't something dangerous.
The evening of the 30th was clear and cold. The pale moon shone above the Forbidden Forest. Hogwarts students filled the front and sides of the castle. Even the connecting corridor that clearly showed the front yard was filled with curious students.
Harry stood at the front of the castle with the professors and a small selection of students. He stood between Ron and Hermione, in front of Marcus. There was a gap between his group and the other students. Maybe it was a result of Marcus' dominating presence.
"Almost six o'clock," said Ron looking down the road towards the front gate. "What are they on? The train?"
"I don't think so," said Hermione.
"Then sweep?"
Draco replied, "It can't be from that far away..."
Ron glared at Draco who blatantly ignored his negative reaction.
Now, Draco Malfoy is different from his former self. Although he did look arrogantly at Ron with his head held high, he didn't reply to his comment. He is now much calmer and more calculating. The young man glanced at Harry, as if seeking approval. When Harry responded with a nod, Malfoy's signature co*cky smile grew wider.
"Portkey?" Ron suggested, as if Draco wasn't there. "Or they can Apparate? Maybe they're allowed to do that at their place under the age of seventeen?"
"You can't apparate inside Hogwarts grounds, how many times do I have to tell you that?" said Hermione impatiently.
They looked eagerly at the darkening courtyard, but no one moved. Everything was still and quiet, and the same as usual. Harry started to feel cold. He hopes that the delegation will arrive soon...
Suddenly, a heavy cloak was thrown over Harry's shoulders and enveloped him in warmth. Its distinctive scent immediately told him who the owner of the robe was. Marcus stood behind him in a light shirt, but didn't look cold at all. His heavy magical aura buzzed around him, providing a warm touch that made Harry move a step back. Automatically, the man wrapped his large arms around Harry and gave him total protection from the cold air. He could have done it with magic. But if there was Marcus, Harry didn't bother looking for another solution.
"Aha! If I'm not mistaken, the Beauxbatons delegation is approaching!" shouted Dumbledore suddenly, he was standing at the front with the professors, slightly beside the crowd of Hogwarts students.
"Where? Where?" the children immediately became noisy, looking in various directions.
"There he is!" shouted a sixth grade student, pointing towards the forest. Something big, bigger than a broom or, rather, a hundred brooms glided against the dark blue sky towards the castle, getting bigger and bigger.
"It's a dragon!" shouted the little first-level girl, losing her mind.
"Fool... it's a flying house!"
Dennis' guess was more correct. As the giant black object hovered above the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the light shining from the carriage from the castle windows fell on them, they saw a giant blue horse-drawn carriage, speeding towards them, pulled by a dozen golden white horses each as big as elephants. .
The three rows of children at the front backed away as the carriage rolled down, stopping very suddenly. The thud was incredibly loud, making Neville jump back and step on a Slytherin's foot. The horse's hooves that were bigger than dinner plates stepped on the ground. A second later, the chariot also landed, jerking on its giant wheels, while its golden-furred horses bobbed their enormous heads and rolled their huge fiery red eyes.
Harry still had time to see the symbol displayed on the carriage door in the form of two crossed golden wands, each emitting three stars, before the door opened. Beauxbatons (bc: bobatong) means beautiful stick.
A boy wearing a light blue robe jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, momentarily fumbled with something on the bottom of the carriage, and unfolded a set of golden stairs. He jumped back respectfully. Then Harry saw the largest woman he had ever seen in his life come out of the carriage.
Now it is clear why the size of the chariot and horses were that big. Some of the children screamed in surprise. Harry had only ever seen one other person as big as this woman, namely Hagrid. Their heights don't differ even an inch. However, even though he was used to seeing Hagrid's large body, this woman still looked extraordinarily large. As he stepped into the light of the Entrance Hall, his beautiful, olive-skinned face appeared; his eyes were large and shiny black, and his nose was slightly hooked. Her hair was tied in a tight, shiny bun at the nape of her neck. From head to toe, he was covered in a black satin robe, and many beautiful large opal beads glittered on his neck and large toes.
Dumbledore started clapping. The children, following his example, joined in the applause. Many of them stood on tiptoe, so they could see this woman more clearly. The woman's face relaxed into a graceful smile and she walked towards Dumbledore, holding out a sparkling hand. Even though Dumbledore himself was a tall man, he barely had to bend down to kiss the hand.
"My dear Madame Maxime," he greeted. "Welcome to Hogwarts."
"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxima in a deep voice. "I hope you're okay?" * d 'oïl's distinctive accent sounds thick to British ears. (*a language derived from Gaulish-Roman fusion.)
"Very good, thank you," said Dumbledore.
"My students," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her large hands carelessly behind her.
Harry, whose attention had been completely occupied by Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all apparently eighteen or nineteen years old, had come out of the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shaking with cold. It was not surprising, for their robes were made of fine silk, and none of them wore coats.
Harry realized that they were displaying a typical Parisian fashion. He had visited France, so he knew how freely and creatively the magicians there could express themselves. It wasn't surprising that they were wearing the kind of robes that weren't suitable for this weather. Luckily they were wizards, so none of them would freeze to death.
"Has Karkaroff arrived?" Madame Maxime asked.
"He will be arriving any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and welcome him or would you rather come in and warm up a bit?"
"Sobering up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But the horses..."
"Our Care of Magical Creatures Master will be happy to look after them," said Dumbledore.
Suddenly, a strange, terrifying sound came loudly from the darkness. A muffled whirring and sucking sound, as if a giant vacuum cleaner was moving along the river bank....
"Lake!" shouted Lee Jordan, pointing at the lake.
"Look at the lake!" From their position at the top of the meadow overlooking the courtyard, they could clearly see the smooth, dark surface of the water--only suddenly it wasn't so slippery any more. A major disturbance was occurring deep in the water in the center of the lake. Huge bubbles formed on its surface, and now the waves washed over its muddy shores and then, in the middle of the lake a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant cork had just been pulled from the bottom of the lake...
Something that looked like a long black pole slowly emerged from the center of the whirlpool... and then Harry saw the rigging... I've had this vision before, he thought.
"That's the mast!"
Slowly, majestically, the ship emerged from the water, gleaming in the moonlight. Its appearance gave the impression of a skeleton, as if it were a shipwreck that had been lifted up, and the dim, misty light that emanated from its portholes was like a hideous spy. Finally, with a loud splash, the entire ship emerged, floating on the turbulent water, and began to slide towards land. Moments later, they heard the sound of an anchor being thrown into shallow water, and the sound of a plank being lowered onto land.
Many people started to get off the ship. They could all see silhouettes passing through the light in the window holes. All of them, had large, chubby profiles... but as they drew closer, walking across the lawn into the light shining from the Entrance Hall, Harry saw that they looked bulky due to their long, thick coats.
Not surprising because Durmstrang is in the north. It is not clear where in northern Europe, but what is clear is that they are cold areas covered in snow. Some say that this school is located not far from Sweden and even closer to the pole.
But the man who led them to the castle wore another kind of fur, sleek and silvery, like his hair.
"Dumbledore!" he exclaimed friendly as he walked. "How are you, buddy, how are you?"
"Very good, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," replied Dumbledore.
Karkaroff's voice sounded sweet, and as he stepped into the flood of light from the front door of the castle, they saw that he was a man as tall and thin as Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (which curled up in small curls) did not completely hide the shape of his soft chin.
Arriving near Dumbledore, he shook Dumbledore's hand with both hands. "My dear Hogwarts," he said, looking at the castle and smiling. His teeth were yellow and Harry noticed that his smile didn't reach his eyes. His eyes remained cold and cunning. "It's so nice to be here, it's so nice... Viktor, come on, somewhere warm... don't you mind, Dumbledore? Viktor's a bit dizzy with a slight cold..."
Draco gasped next to him. "Victor Krum!" he whispered, half shrieking. Harry nudged him so he could quickly control himself. But Ron had almost fainted, so Harry didn't really blame these boys full of youthful passion.
The three principals walked together while chatting, followed by the group of the two magic schools. Hogwarts students began to trickle in. But Harry and his party remained standing there, watching. As the group passed them, Professor Karkaroff's cold eyes stopped for a few seconds on Harry. That was enough to make Marcus move forward and shift to close Harry out of his line of sight. The two men stared at each other, before Professor Karkaroff finally looked away.
"What is it?" Draco whispered.
Harry shook his head. But it seemed he wasn't the only one who noticed the interaction, because Victor Krum was also looking at Harry. There was surprise in his eyes, as if he could recognize Harry too. The young man gave him a polite nod, before his eyes fell on Draco who was standing at Harry's side. Marcus flicked the back of Draco's head to prevent him from suddenly fainting. In the end, Hermione pulled him away from the crowd because he saw him starting to lose oxygen.
Harry blinked, for a second his retina turned silver. Then, a smile spread across his face. Marcus, who recognized that conspiratorial expression, suddenly broke out in cold sweat. He asked, "What's wrong?"
Harry's wide smile hadn't disappeared, it even got wider, "No, no." He followed the group into the castle to attend the welcoming ceremony. "This will be interesting," he whispered happily, whistling happily. The children walking next to him held their breath and made way, not wanting to get ahead of Harry. They gave him mixed looks of fear and awe.
The guests were provided with a special room, while the Hogwarts students waited in the Great Hall. Everything looked the same if there wasn't any French food on their table.
Dumbledore was standing on the podium giving a lecture when Argus Filch jogged excitedly across the tables and whispered into the headmaster's ear. Apparently, the foreign school group couldn't wait to enter the great hall.
Without wasting much time, Dumbledore said, "....Let us welcome the students of Beauxbatons wizarding school and their headmistress Madame Maxime." The blue-clothed students entered elegantly. In the front row were the girls who walked gracefully. Their blonde hair was decorated with round hats and waved as if played by a gentle breeze. Blue glowing butterflies fluttered around them and spread throughout the room, spreading a sweet scent.
At the Gryffindor table, Ron looked so enchanted that his body leaned in to follow the graceful movements of the row of beautiful girls. His eyes looked mischievous, following the curves of their bodies. Hermione, who was irritated, quietly pushed Ron's shoulder slightly and made him fall to the floor. Laughter erupted across the Gryffindor table, followed by a confused Ron. Hermione suddenly pretended that she had been busy eating all this time.
After Dumbledore invited Madame Maxime to sit at the teacher's table and the Beauxbatons students took their places at the Ravenclaw table, the hall door burst open with a bang. This time the softness was replaced by the loud sound of regular and steady footsteps.
The mighty Durmstrang students appeared in line. They walked with long sticks that sparked fire when the ends were struck on the floor. The male students have short, army-style hair. They demonstrated strict military discipline and high levels of collectivity.
The Durmstrang school of magic clearly adopted typical Norse society. It stands in the northernmost area of the European continent which is known for its difficult terrain; making him look cold and hard. Northern Europe is an area filled with light, as well as darkness. There are times when the sun never rises to the horizon line and sets again after a long time. They call it Polar Night, a time when the sun never rises. This extreme contrast of light and darkness is due to the rotation of the earth and the position of the sun. The further north you go, the greater the contrast. Nature forges its people into tough humans.
Of course, those who studied at Durmstrang were not exclusively Nordic. They even accepted students from the far south of Europe such as Victor Krum who was originally Bulgarian.
Durmstrang couldn't be more different from the soft, light-filled Beauxbatons. Their characteristics are similar to Slytherin, maybe that's why they chose to sit in the snake house. It's no coincidence that the same type of magic summons each other.
Harry sat in his usual spot. Near the very front of the long table, among the seniors. On both sides sat members of the Knights of Walpurgins from various class levels. Among them were Durmstrang students and they did not hesitate to chat with each other.
Durmstrang School never accepted muggleborns, and it was rare for even halfbloods to be accepted there. So, it is not surprising that some purebloods know each other. After all, even though they lived far apart, there were times when the purebloods were in the same place within their small group.
Of course Durmstrang students were aware of the slightly different seating arrangements in Slytherin compared to other house tables. While usually the end-to-end arrangement is adjusted by class level, this is not entirely true at the Slytherin table. Harry, who was supposed to sit in the middle because he was a fourth year student, now sat at the very front of the table, near the teacher's desk; a place that should only be filled by senior students. This clearly shows a form of power. There is no more reasonable reason than that.
Especially when they saw how the Slytherin members treated Harry. They openly called him Lord, or even King. The Durmstrang student representatives were certainly not fools, they wouldn't be here if that was the case. So they immediately recognized the hidden hierarchy in Slytherin house.
Everyone knows who Harry Potter is. If not because of his legend of surviving the Death Curse, of course because of his actions which were reported by many media. His heroic actions at the Quidditch world cup were not only important for the British wizarding community, but also the world. Not only ordinary people he had saved, but also high-ranking Ministry officials and nobles from other countries. If he wasn't so young, there might already be many people who would offer him an alliance, or even become his vassals.
It's no secret, he also holds the nickname prince of the wizarding world. Even though Durmstrang is not in England, and not in the same Ministry, it cannot be denied that Harry Potter's position is very special in the wizarding community as a whole. Because there is no other magical prince except Harry Potter!
"Halo, aku Victor Krum."
"Harry Potter," Harry replied, nodding. They didn't shake hands because the table in front of them was full of food. "I hope the journey here is smooth."
The young man smiled, "A quick wink," his eyes fell on Draco who was hiding his face in front of the red crab. But the red ears were still quite visible. This made Victor raise his eyebrows in interest.
"I hope none of the students are bothering you," said Harry as he looked at the other house boys who were starting to look up trying to see Victor Krum. "You can rest easy in Slytherin. I guarantee there won't be any kids suddenly asking for your autograph here." Next to him, Draco choked. Harry patted his back patiently, his attention never leaving Victor Krum, as if to imply that Draco usually choked and Harry always helped him.
"And you are?" Victor asked finally.
"Draco Malfoy," he tried to sound cool and dignified, but at the end of the sentence he choked and his face turned bright red. Harry handed him pumpkin juice.
"You'd better stop eating shrimp, you seem allergic."
"I'm not allergic to prawns, Potter," he hissed. Harry rolled his eyes, "Oh, is it because you wanted an autograph-" Draco kicked his leg silently. Harry shot Victor a desperate look, but surprisingly there was a flicker of interest in the young man's eyes when he saw Draco. Harry smiled silently.
As dinner ended, the Durmstrang delegation withdrew to return to their ships to rest. As the Durmstrang students left, the Slytherin students followed not far from them. Harry nodded at the members of the Knights of Walpurgins, he knew they would be waiting for him to lead Simhain tonight.
When Harry entered the dormitory, and into a special room in the inner part of the Knight of Walpurgins meeting room, Marcus and Professor Prince were already waiting for him there. A large pentagram had been drawn in the center of the room, with small candles whose flames would continue to burn until November 1, as if they would never run out of fuel.
After doing it for the past two years, Harry understood the importance of this ritual to wizards. Especially for Hogwarts which stands right on Le Fay's path. As they began the ritual, Harry, whose magic was now one with the grounds of Hogwarts, felt that it was not only his group who was carrying out this ritual. Apparently, there was a reason why the Durmstrang delegation ended their evening early. Harry could feel it when their magic touched each other, in fact Harry was sure that not only himself felt it, but also the Durmstrang school of magic.
But there was one whose magical energy caught Harry's attention. When he slowly touched it, he realized that the light standing alone was Barty Jr. Harry smiled, then he pulled the man's magic to join his own, and allowed the man to taste a little of the darkness of Harry's pure magic.
He wanted to show him that dark magic didn't mean dirty and disgusting like Voldemort's.
In a closed room full of protection runes, inside the castle, a man fell to his knees and gasped violently. The sound of his breathing echoed in the empty room. But his eyes were wide with anticipation. His heart was beating so hard, a mixture of surprise and enthusiasm.
Inside this castle there is a Dark Lord and Barty knows who he is!
Chapter 17
Summary:
Hello, my dear... sorry for waiting so long. Work piles up at the end of the year. Hopefully this story can be accepted and satisfy all readers.
Chapter Text
Hello, my dear... sorry for waiting so long. Work piles up at the end of the year. Hopefully this story can be accepted and satisfy all readers.
....
"You are old, you are free, O land of the mountainous North...
Saddle your soul, let your thoughts fly with the wind that blows...
You cling to memories of past successes..."
Firenze's baritone voice sounded loud amidst the gusts of wind. Harry's body swayed to the old song, magic all around them, brushing the tips of the snow-covered grass and brushing against his cold red skin, as he spun and danced among the centaurs. His green eyes lit by magic, he hummed along to the song.
"Spinning wheels, entangled thoughts, confused vision...
First stop where the roads cross...
The second stop where time and thoughts are no longer useful...
As your venerable name flies across the worlds..."
As she spun, the wind blew, her scarf danced in the air, her flowing black hair fluttered. The voices grew louder, singing in unison.
"I want to die in the North...
"Ay... ay*... I want to live in the North...." (aye, or yes in nordic)
Then, he fell to his knees along with the silence that emerged as the gust of wind carried the magic away.
"HARRY!" the sound of screaming could be heard faintly. Before long, the figure of a young man appeared from the dense mass of trees and mounds of snow, struggling across it with difficulty. Marcus' serious expression suddenly changed to relief when his eyes fell on Harry.
"What are you doing, disappeared suddenly!" Marcus hugged him tightly, he immediately covered Harry with his robe, carrying him in his lap. Harry's long legs were now hanging down to the ground. "Darling," he hissed. "What happened to you?"
Harry's green eyes stared at him blankly. A single tear dripped from his eyelid before disappearing in the blink of an eye. "Marcus?"
"Harry."
Harry looked at the centaurs who were sitting in a semicircle with them in the middle, "Oh..." he hugged Marcus tightly as if he had found a lifebuoy. He didn't remember why he was here. It had been a long time since he had an episode. Experiencing it again made him confused and afraid. He knew he couldn't control himself at times like that.
"Do you want to tell me?"
Harry shook his head. Still not letting go of Marcus. "I have a bad feeling..." he whispered.
"Apa?"
"Don't know. Usually that's a bad sign..." because it meant that Lady Fate had taken steps to block his vision. Usually related to a type of fate he can't resist... like that vision . Harry gripped Marcus's arm tightly, remembering how cold it felt when he saw Marcus lying with empty eyes on the green tiles of that eerie room.
"I won't let anything happen to you," Marcus growled.
"Where is the Triwizard Tournament held?"
Both of them knew it was almost impossible to resist bad luck in a situation like that. "Moreover, today is Halloween night..."
"The night where the veil of the world of death thins..." whispered Firenze. "You'd better go back. It was too cold once Lady Fate left."
The two wizards widened their eyes while swallowing hard. Marcus slowly stood up and took Harry in his arms. He bowed his body slightly as a goodbye. They walked through the forbidden forest and came out near the Black Lake. As they reached the corridor of the Great Hall, Harry's eyes met Moody's rolling eyes. Those eyes continued to follow him even when the two of them had disappeared at the end of the corridor.
This is a dangerous game; wizard life. From the moment they are born, grow up and finally master their magic, a wizard is accustomed to seeing danger. Maybe it was a result of their magic; when it's so easy to recover, people tend to like playing with fire. A wizard's childhood is spent watching dangerous sports, considering dragons to be normal, and splinting when first apparating is normal. Muggleborns call it crazy, but for those born and raised in the wizarding world? All of that is normal.
Not that the crazy wizard didn't know the danger. But, that doesn't stop them from creating crazy games like Quidditch or the Triwizard Tournament. Yes, games. It's all a game for those in power. The politics between the three countries sees the most promising children from the three magical schools risk their lives for honor, while the politicians whisper secret plans and bribe each other. Oh, not to mention all that betting. And you don't call it a game ?
Barty called it bullsh*t.
He was sure that if the dark lord came to power, he would not allow these rotten politicians to sacrifice the most potential young generation in the wizarding world. He will return the wizarding world back to the right direction. Yes, the dark lord shed blood. But never the blood of a child. Well, except for one. And he is still alive.
Harry Potter. The boy who piqued Barty Jr's curiosity. He had heard of his actions, he had read about them in the Daily Prophet. But none of the spectacular news mentioned that Harry Potter was a dark wizard. No one realized how dark the magic prince's magic was. All this escaped their attention. But not Barty. That's what made him continue to pay attention to Harry Potter.
From the professor's dining table, he could clearly see the Boy-Who-Lived. It was quite surprising at first, to see him clad in Slytherin colors, acting like a Slytherin and sitting in the most honorable place in Slytherin. Anyone who hears the name 'Harry Potter' will always associate it with Gryffindor's typical courage and bravado attitude. In fact every children's book depicts the Boy-Who-Lived as Gryffindor and true light propaganda; by fighting dragons, saving princesses and even riding Unicorns.
However, there he was, as slippery as an eel, escaping everyone's attention and secretly becoming King of Slytherin. It cannot be denied that Harry Potter is charismatic.
A flock of owls fluttered in through the tall windows. Some of them brought folded newspapers and others with several packages sent from their parents. The children reached for it impatiently, opening it eagerly. Gives a hint of nostalgia for when Barty used to be a student at this school.
His own newspaper slid down, thrown by his hired owl. He didn't have any thoughts when he opened the front page. But, suddenly he choked and dropped his fork. Suddenly, there was an oppressive silence throughout the Great Hall.
Blood vs Magic
By: Harry Potter
It is no longer news that blood is considered important to wizards. He shows strength and nobility. There is an opinion that the purer a person's blood, the stronger the person's magic. It cannot be denied that the purest, darkest or most dangerous magic uses blood as part of its ritual.
Yes, you heard right, the purest magic. We can take an example with the most powerful form of protection magic 'blood protection' which requires sacrifice from the caster to make this form of protection stand firm. It is considered the purest form of white magic because doing it also means sacrificing your soul for the safety of others, with no strings attached. [see the book Advanced Magic by Miranda Goshawk pg 302].
But, with a heavy heart, we have to put aside this interesting study for a moment to discuss what this article is actually about. Yes, blood is very important and all wizards are aware of that. And it cannot be denied that to get the purest possible blood, witches use various methods, even inbreeding. In order to keep magic pure and to prevent wealth from falling into other people's hands, this practice is commonplace. Not only by wizards, but also by Muggles since thousands of years ago. Without knowing the consequences of it.
So, I ask, haven't any of you wondered where Squib came from? Why are children born whose magical powers fade, becoming talentless and much weaker than their parents or grandparents? Many of us blame this on Muggles stealing magic, but we also think they're a bunch of harmless, stupid people, isn't that really contradictory?
But what if with a heavy heart I told you all, that Muggles have long immersed themselves in research on inbreeding and they know for sure the impact is as I mentioned above. We're lucky that magic spared us the worst of it, but Muggles aren't so lucky. Congenital defects, idiots and madness are what threaten them.
If you don't believe it yet, why don't you take the time to visit a magical animal sanctuary to chat with their handlers, or read Newt Scamander's books, where he talks about the unique behavior of magical creatures that evolved to avoid inbreeding. Animals such as lions and dogs exclude young males from their packs to avoid inbreeding with their female siblings. Fruit flies even have sensing mechanisms to avoid possible inbreeding in their groups, so that even in closed populations they maintain more genetic diversity than would be possible with random mating. [see the book Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them pg 214]
Even certain plants, such as red cherries, have evolved to ensure that their pistils cannot be fertilized by themselves or by other genetically similar pistils. Yes, genetics, you are reading a new term familiar to Muggles. [for more details see page 17]
If you all accuse my alliance with Muggles to refute my credibility as a writer. So, there's only one thing I need to say. Read it! You are a wizard, not a fool. But if you don't believe it yet, then just as all Ravenclaws believe, "I must warn you, if you have no idea of the future , there is no hope a book can teach you."
After all, it's no secret that blood doesn't symbolize power because the most powerful wizards of their time had blood that wasn't as pure as we think. Merlin has a strong blood relationship with Draconis. Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, or even Tom Marvolo Riddle or what we know as Voldemord are half-bloods. Yes. You didn't read it wrong. How can I find out? I'm sure it would take a whole page of this newspaper to tell the story. But believe me, when I say that Voldemord was half-hearted and he was the most talented wizard of his time. If not me, then who else has the right to know the true identity of a prince of darkness?
When Barty looked up from his article, Harry Potter had disappeared from the Great Hall. Leaving behind an uproar and exclamations of disbelief. Beside him, Marcus sipped his drink calmly, but it was clear from the rise of the corners of his lips that he was really enjoying the excitement.
"You don't seem surprised."
Marcus smiled at him, "If you look at the stacks of books around him, you can already guess where the articles he sent to the Daily Prophet are heading. And looking at it now, it doesn't seem like they're going to stop."
Blood doesn't lie. Harry Potter doesn't just come from Slytherin house. But he was a Slytherin. People like that won't just sit around without using their big name to do something. What a perfect time to write that article now, so that it will not only be read by British wizards, but also representatives of the three schools of magic. Looking at what he's doing now, it doesn't seem like Harry Potter will isolate himself from politics like most Potters . For those who can predict the future, they will not underestimate the steps taken by Harry Potter. His debut as a politician was certainly unusual.
The Ravenclaw in him scratched his head curiously. That's why he hunted Harry Potter until he found him sitting in the Restricted section of the Library. The young man looked up from his tower of books. Her green eyes looked at him playfully every time they met; it's been like that since the ritual of Samhain.
" Professor Moddy, how can I help you?" he used that tone of voice again when calling her name, as if comforting her.
He threw the newspaper on the table. "You're playing with fire, Potter."
The boy raised an eyebrow. He glanced at the newspaper without reading it. "Hm... Quite satisfying, even though I had to compromise with the editor of the Daily Prophet and also that photo... ugh."
"This is not the time for you to worry about your face, Potter."
Harry propped his head in a casual gesture, looking up slightly with a crooked smile as he said, "Then what should I do, Professor? Worried about the reaction of the wizarding world? I don't care about them. Worried about the Dark Lord? He's not that strong to be a danger to me."
"How did you-"
"That I knew that Voldemort was still alive? Dumbledore didn't tell you? I heard you were his best friend."
"What?" then he realized that Potter was talking to Moody, not Barty jr.
"I met the dark lord since my first year at Hogwarts. He tried hard to rise, but I blocked his steps. I was waiting to see what his plans were next, especially when the wizarding world's attention was focused on the Triwizard Tournament."
Barty swallowed hard, "If that's true. Aren't you afraid that what you wrote in the article will further arouse his anger?"
"What could he do? After all, he had intended to kill me from the start. But here I am, while he? Maybe in the form of a spirit somewhere, sucking the blood of Unicorns."
"Aren't your sentences too specific?"
"Oh, I know him very well. Our relationship could be called complex ," Harry grinned. "But you didn't come here because you were worried about me, right?"
Barty swallowed hard, "You... is what you wrote true? Your theory about Squibs?"
"Of course. Haven't I written down the source? You just have to trace where the source comes from. I'm sure, currently many wizards are burning their beards, and trying to prove the truth..." then as if talking to himself, he added, "Maybe I need to send some parcels to Mr. Scamander for the trouble he's going to face."
Barty glanced at the pile of books between them. It seems Harry Potter won't stop at just one article. "Werewolves?"
"Yes. Regarding Werewolf regulations. I heard that Senior Undersecretary, Madam Dolores Umbridge submitted a proposal to remove Werewolves from the witch group and include them as magical creatures."
"You don't agree to that proposal?"
"It's inhumane and barbaric. Wolfsbane was created to restore humanity to werewolves, there's no reason to think they're no longer witches."
"Why? They are no longer a complete wizard."
"Explain to me, professor. What does complete wizard mean? Then, what about Merlin, or even Morgana? That woman collaborated with a demon! Does that mean they are less wizard than the others?" Harry sighed, "Wizard discrimination not only led to civil war, but also endangered wizard secrecy. What would happen if they were excluded from this community, without the knowledge to protect themselves from Muggles?"
"Protecting themselves from Muggles!"
"Didn't you read my article, professor? Voldemord is Half-blood!"
Barty hissed, as if not accepting that fact.
"He's Named Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Son of Merope Gaunt and a Muggle man."
"How did you know that!"
"His name is on the tapestry of the Peverell family tree." He heard Barty's gasp. "But that's not the case. You see, Muggles have cracked the secrets of the Squib in their research. Don't you think they're that intelligent? Aren't you worried about their ability to defend themselves? We're hundreds of years too late if we think Muggles still fight with swords-"
"Then those muggle-borns! They shouldn't return to the Muggle world-"
"I don't think we need to be that extreme. Unlike Dumbledore, I don't believe in a Utopian world where muggles and wizards can accept each other's existence. However, I also don't support total separation. What we need now is balance. The current system "It's already good enough, with the Muggle Minister knowing the wizarding world with an undeniable oath to keep the wizarding world secret. We just need to develop it to be better. Especially the current system in the Ministry never addresses the real problems." Harry looked at Barty fiercely, "Do you believe that it is safe to let Werewolves roam around with the regulations on magical creatures? Making them feel like they are being hunted like wild animals? Do you believe that they will not unite to fight back. What is happening is not just a civil war, but a plague. "
Barty swallowed hard. He could imagine that possibility. How are Werewolves, even though they are few in number, have speed and strength beyond ordinary wizards. Fenrir Greyback for example... there is a reason why the dark lord chose to work with him even though it was against his politics.
"Do you have a book related to the article you wrote, Mr. Potter?"
Harry looked surprised. "Sure, my House elf Prof. can send it to you."
Barty nodded before finally leaving the room. What Barty didn't realize, as he walked away, the smile on Harry's face widened. And he whispered, "Got you."
When he came out of the library, Marcus was waiting for Harry there - leaning against the obsidian wall in his formal robes. The man straightened up when he saw her. "I assume Professor Moody has come to see you." His eyes looked at the end of the corridor. "I didn't expect him to move that fast."
"You can't stop Ravenclaw's curiosity."
"Ravenclaws?" Marcus was flabbergasted. "With style like that? I thought he was a true Gryffindor."
"Oh, yes, Professor Moddy. If he really is a Gryffindor."
Marcus froze for a moment, as if digesting Harry's nonsensical words. Then, his hand flew to grab Harry's arm and pulled him into a hug. He hissed in her ear, "Who?"
Harry patted Marcus on the shoulder, like he was calming a wild animal. "Oh, he's not a problem." Even so, Harry didn't try to get away. She hung comfortably in his strong arms. "You'll find out later. But instead of that... it's better if we prepare ourselves for Halloween dinner."
The Halloween party felt longer than usual. Maybe because this was the second party held two nights in a row. Harry was less enthusiastic about the delicious dishes set before him for a different reason than everyone else in the hall; judging by the constant stretching of the necks, the impatient expressions on all faces, the anxiety, and the children repeatedly standing up to see if Dumbledore had finished eating, wanting the plates to be put away and to hear who had been chosen as Champion. .
Finally, the golden plates returned empty and sparkling clean. The voices in the Great Hall grew louder, but died away as soon as Dumbledore rose. On either side, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and even Marcus looked as tense as everyone else. Ludo Bagman beamed and winked at various children. Only Mr Crouch didn't seem interested, he even looked a bit bored.
"Well, the Goblet of Fire is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore.
"I estimate it will still take another minute. After the names of the champions have been read, I ask them to come forward, walk in front of the teacher's desk, and enter the next room" - he pointed to the door behind the teacher's desk - "where the champions will receive instructions their first."
Dumbledore took out his wand and made a sweeping motion with it. Simultaneously the candles, except for the one in the engraved yellow pumpkin, immediately went out. The room
became dim.
The Goblet of Fire now shone brighter than anything else in the entire Great Hall. Its brilliant blue-white flame was blinding, making the eyes hurt. Everyone looked at him, waiting... Several muggle-borns repeatedly looked at their watches...
The flame in the goblet suddenly became red again. Flames started to burst out. The next second a flame shot upwards, throwing up a piece of burnt parchment. The whole
room screamed in surprise. Dumbledore caught the parchment and stretched out his arm so he could read it by the light of the flame, which had turned blue-white again.
"The champion for Durmstrang," he read loud and clear, "is Viktor Krum."
"Not surprising!" shouted Ron, as loud applause and cheers filled
the hall.
Draco clapped loudly. Victor stood up with a smile. He patted Draco's shoulder lightly while winking at him. Making the boy suddenly turn bright red. He turned right, walked past the teacher's desk, and disappeared through the door into his designated room. "Bravo, Victor!" Karkaroff's voice boomed, so everyone could hear it, overpowering the sound of applause. "I know you will be the champion!"
The applause and cheers died down. Now everyone's attention was drawn to the Goblet of Fire again, which a second later, once again turned red. The second parchment was thrown out by the flames.
"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"
Harry blinked as he realized who had been called. The girl waved at him, making Ron exclaim in surprise. "You know him?" Blaise whispered, which also made Draco turn his head curiously.
"I met him this summer at Lord Delacour's ball," Harry whispered.
"Isn't his house in France?" Draco whispered in surprise. His eyes lit up in awe as he realized that Harry had been allowed to go far. "Lord Flint is very generous..."
"That's because Harry is de facto a lord. He just has to wait until he turns 16 to make it formal," explained Blaise.
Fleur Delacour tossed back her silvery blonde hair, and walked between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.
"Oh look, they're all disappointed," said Pancy, nodding towards the rest of the
Beauxbatons party.
Not just "disappointed", thought Harry. The two unselected girls shed tears and sobbed, burying their heads in their arms. After Fleur Delacour also disappeared into the prepared room, the hall was quiet again, but this time the silence was very tense.
Next the Hogwarts champion. And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more, sparks shot out, flames shot high upwards, and from its top Dumbledore withdrew a third parchment.
"The champion of Hogwarts," he said, "is Cedric Diggory!"
"No!" Ron said loudly, but no one heard him except Harry. The commotion at the next table was too great. All the Hufflepuffs were on their feet, screaming and stomping their feet, when Cedric walked past them, grinning broadly, into the room behind the teacher's desk. The applause for Cedric lasted so long that it was some time before Dumbledore's voice could be heard again.
"Extraordinary!" cried Dumbledore cheerfully after the excitement died down. "Well, now our three champions have been selected. I'm sure I can count on all of you, including the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to provide full support to your champions. By cheering on your champions, you will contribute to su..."
Suddenly Dumbledore stopped talking, and it was clear to everyone what had distracted him. The flames in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks flew. A long tongue of flame suddenly shot upwards, and at its peak was another piece of parchment.
Automatically, Dumbledore reached out his hand for the parchment. He held it and stared at the name written on it.
"Harry Pot-" suddenly the paper caught fire with blue flames, Dumbledore automatically dropped it. The blue flame erased the writing there, leaving behind jet black paper with sparkling silver letters on it.
Harry took a sharp breath. Suddenly the world narrowed. All existing possibilities become only one certainty. At the same time, Dumbledore's voice boomed. "Hadrian James Peverell."
A soul-touching silence enveloped the great hall at the sound of that unfamiliar name. Instantly Marcus stood up with a horrified expression. Harry swallowed hard. "Hadrian James Peverell," repeated Dumbledore as he cast his gaze, which ended up falling on Harry.
Harry slowly got up. A couple of heads turned towards him, before finally being followed by another.
"Peverell?"
"Peverell!?"
There was no applause. A loud buzzing, like a swarm of angry bees, began to fill the hall. Several children stood up to get a better look at Harry. Professor Prince stood up instantly with a horrified face. Marcus preceded him by walking quickly until his robes fluttered, approached Harry and stood covering him with his large body. His eyes looked fiercely at anyone who tried to sneer. He acted as if he wanted to protect Harry from reality. But Harry knew that nothing could protect him from this. His shaking hand reached out and gripped Marcus' arm tightly. His face was deathly pale.
At the staff table, Professor McGonagall rose from her chair and hurried past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff, whispering seriously to Professor Dumbledore, who co*cked his head towards her, frowning slightly.
Harry turned to Draco. "I didn't put my name in," said Harry confused.
Behind him, he saw all the kids at the long Slytherin table wearing serious faces. Some of them nodded. The Slytherin knew it wasn't Harry's type to lie or put himself in danger; The Triwizard Tournament is not the kind of game that can be played carelessly. They were more surprised by Harry's name change than anyone else. All children born in the wizarding world know Peverell's tales well.
At the teacher's desk, Professor Dumbledore was sitting up straight again, nodding to Professor McGonagall.
"Hadrian James Peverell!" he called again. "Please come this way!"
"There," Draco whispered as he pushed Harry slightly. His face was as pale as his hair. "Good luck," he whispered before releasing his grip.
Harry took a step, stepped on the hem of his robes, and staggered slightly. Marcus immediately caught him. He pulled Harry half-supported across the gap between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. It felt like the journey was very long, and he could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes looking at him, like spotlights. The buzzing sound got louder and louder. After what felt like an hour, he arrived in front of Dumbledore, feeling all the teachers' eyes on him.
"Well... through that door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He didn't smile.
Harry moved past the teacher's desk. Hagrid sat at the very end. He didn't wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual greetings. He looked completely astonished and just gaped at him like the others when Harry passed.
Harry went through the door and found himself in a smaller room, which had paintings lined up along the walls of wizards and witches. A fire was burning in the fireplace across the room. The faces in the paintings turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a shriveled old female witch dart out of her frame and into the frame next to it, revealing a male wizard with a sea bear's mustache. The shriveled witch whispered in his ear.
Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour huddled in front of the fireplace. They looked very impressive, forming a silhouette against the backdrop of the flames. Krum, who looked serious, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly separated from his two friends. Cedric stood with his hands behind his back, looking at the fire. Fleur Delacour turned as Harry entered and shook out her long silver hair.
"What is it?" he asked. "Do they want us to go back to the hall?" Fleur thought he had come to deliver a message.
Harry didn't know how to explain what had just happened. The girl looked at Marcus and Harry alternately, as if finally realizing something was strange. Marcus pulled Harry onto one of the empty sofas and sat him on his lap. He put his arm around her protectively. His face was buried in the nape of Harry's neck as he hissed.
There were footsteps behind the door, and Ludo Bagman entered. "Extraordinary!" he muttered, as he tried to tug on Harry's arm to lead him forward, but immediately backed away when he saw Marcus. "How wonderful! Brothers," he said to the three people in front of the fire. "Allow me to introduce as implausible as it may sound the fourth Triwizard champion."
Viktor Krum stood up straight. His sour face darkened as he watched Harry. Cedric looked stunned. He looked at Bagman, then Harry, back to Bagman again, as if he was sure he must have heard wrong. But Fleur Delacour tossed her hair, smiled, and said, "Oh, what a funny joke, Meester Bagman."
"Joke?" Bagman repeated, confused. "No, no, it's not a joke at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire! Even though it's not Harry Potter."
Those who heard it increasingly looked at him strangely.
"What do you mean?" Fleur snapped.
"The one that came out was the name Hadrian James Peverell."
Krum's thick eyebrows twitched slightly. Cedric still looked surprised. Fleur frowned. "But there must have been a mistake," said Fleur to Bagman in a dismissive tone. "He's Harry Potter, not Peverell..." his voice didn't sound convinced. Then, he shook his head, "it's not important. He can't compete. He's still too small!"
"Well... it's surprising," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and looking down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was implemented this year just as an extra safety measure. And since his name came out of the trophy... I mean, I guess I can't withdraw anymore at this stage... It's stated in the rules, you must ... Harry must do his best..."
The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people entered: Professor Dumbledore, followed by Mr Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Prince. Harry heard the buzz of hundreds of children behind the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.
"Madame Maxime!" Fleur immediately exclaimed, approaching the headmaster, "They said this little boy was going to compete!"
Beneath the numbness of disbelief, Harry felt a ripple of anger. Small child? He knew he was underage, but that didn't mean he was a child. He scowled at Fleur. "Oh, Harry, I was worried!" he hugged Harry, ignoring Marcus. "You're still small..."
"I'm fifteen," he grumbled.
"Still little!"
Marcus cleared his throat. Pulling Harry back into his lap.
Madame Maxime stood up straight. The top of her head brushed the candlestick filled with candles, and her ample bosom was covered in a satin robe as if it was bulging.
"What does this mean, Dumbly-dorr?" said Madame Maxime haughtily.
"I would like to know too, Dumbledore," Professor Karkaroff chimed in. His smile was sharp and his blue eyes were like shards of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me that the host school could nominate two champions. Did I not read the rules carefully?" He let out a short, harsh laugh.
"That's impossible," said Madame Maxime, her large hand decorated with beautiful opals resting on Fleur's shoulder. "Hogwarts can't have two champions. That's very unfair."
"We thought your Age Limit Circle would be impassable for underage fans, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his sardonic smile still on display, but his eyes were colder than before. "If we knew we could, of course we would bring in more candidates from our school."
"It's no one's fault, I know Harry didn't put his name in," Severus said quietly. His black eyes flashed with hatred. "Whoever put it in intended to harm it. The goblet of fire doesn't stop adults from putting children's names in there..."
"Indirectly, you are also showing a form of cheating!" Karkaroff snapped.
"To hurt him!"
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Severus immediately fell silent, although his eyes were still burning. Professor Dumbledore now looked down at Harry, who looked back at him, trying to comprehend the meaning of the expression in the eyes behind the half-moon glasses. He trusted his Occlumency training to prevent Dumbledore from reading his mind any more than he had to.
"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.
"No," answered Harry. "If I enter it. I will enter it under the name Harry Potter."
He was well aware that everyone was watching him.
"Do you know why that name came up?"
"That's my magic name, headmaster."
Everyone who heard it gasped.
Dumbledore nodded. "That means you are the heir of the Potter and Peverell families?"
Harry shook his head. "There are no Potters. Potter is a Peverell."
An eerie silence enveloped the room. In the end Dumbledore nodded. "This is not the right time for such a personal matter. But seeing as you realize that is your name, now the Goblet of Fire's magic binds you to become Champion."
"This is so unfair! Hogwarts has two Champions!"
"Ah, he must be lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Severus now shook his head, his lips curling in annoyance. "He must have told the older kids to skip the Age Limit Circle."
"Didn't we all agree... or Dumbly-door made a mistake in the Age Limit Circle!"
"Perhaps," said Dumbledore politely.
"Dumbledore, you know for sure, you didn't make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "What nonsense! Harry couldn't have crossed that line himself, and since
Professor Dumbledore believes he didn't persuade the older boy to do it for him, I think that should be good enough for everyone!"
"Mr Crouch... Mr Bagman," Karkaroff said, his voice sweetened further to take heart, "You two,.. er... objective jurors. Surely you consider this incident highly unusual?"
Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with a handkerchief and looked at Mr Crouch, who stood outside the circle of firelight, his face half hidden in the gloom. He looked a bit scary. This semi-darkness of the space made him appear much older, making him appear almost skeletal. But when he spoke, his voice was stiff as usual.
"We have to obey the rules, and the rules state clearly that those whose names appear in the Goblet of Fire must compete in the tournament."
"Well, Mr. Bartemius Crouch knows the rules from cover to cover," said Bagman beaming and turning back to look at Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as if the matter had been settled.
"I demand to re-enter the names of my students who have not been selected," said Karkaroff. Now he has removed his sweet voice and also his smile. His face was so horrible. "You will install the Goblet of Fire again, and we will continue to enter names, until each school has two champions. Only then will it be fair, Dumbledore."
"But, Karkaroff, that's not how it works," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire has just been extinguished it won't be lit again until the start of the next tournament."
"...which Durmstrang certainly won't follow!" Karkaroff exploded. "Considering how often we meet, negotiate, and compromise, I had no idea something like this
would happen! I was half thinking about going home now!"
"Empty threats, Karkaroff!" a growling sound was heard from near the door. "You can't abandon your champion now. He must compete. Everyone must compete. Bound by a magical contract, as Dumbledore said." Moody had just entered the room. He limped towards the fireplace, and every step his right foot took made a loud knocking sound. "I'm sure someone put Potter's name in the cup, knowing that Potter would have to compete if his name came up."
"Definitely someone who would give Hogwarts a double chance!" said Madame Maxime.
"I agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff bowing before her. "I will submit an objection to the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Magic..."
"If anyone has a reason to object it's Potter," growled Moody.
"but... strangely... I didn't hear him say a word..."
"Why should he mind? He has a chance to compete, right? We've all been hoping to be selected for weeks! A great honor for our school! And a prize money of one thousand Galleons... many would die for this chance!"
"Someone might wish Potter had died for that," said Moody, his voice slightly grumpy.
A very tense silence followed his words. Ludo Bagman, who looked very worried, tiptoed tensely and said, "Moody... why are you talking like that!"
"Ah! is there any proof?" said Madame Maxime, raising her large hands.
"Because he managed to outwit a magical item of extraordinary prowess!" Moody said. "It would take an incredibly powerful Confundus Charm to make the cup forget that there were only three schools competing in this tournament... My guess is they included Potter's name under the name of the fourth school, to ensure he was the only one in his category..."
"How this situation arose, we do not know" said Dumbledore, addressing everyone gathered in the room. "Even so it seems to me that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been selected to compete in the tournament. Therefore, they will compete..."
"Ah, tapi, Dumbly-dorr..."
Suddenly, there was a sound of the door crashing open. Then a man wearing a black robe and a hood covering his head entered the room. "If Hogwarts rejects Mr Peverell as Champion, then we will accept him as Avalon school Champion." The man dropped his hood, revealing a charming face framed by black hair. A familiar face to Harry.
"Who..." whispered Ludo Bagman. Professors Dumbledore and Barty sr instantly paled.
His wide smile showed the sharp tips of his fangs. "Meet Alexander Ravnos, headmaster of the Avalon school of magic."
“Avalon?! That school is just a fairy tale! ”
"Just like magic to Muggles, Ludo Bagman?"
The man flinched in horror at the sharp tips of his teeth.
"But Harry is a Hogwarts student!" Fleur exclaimed.
"Oh, it doesn't matter to Avalon. Wherever Hadrian Peverell is, Avalon is his legacy as it is home to all Myrddin's descendants ."
"Merlin? Merlin?! "
The vampire man raised his eyebrows, finding Ludo Bagman's reaction funny.
"Headmaster Alexander Ravnos..." Dumbledore moved over.
"Just call me Alexander," he warmly welcomed Dumbledore's handshake. "It was an honor to meet a legend in person."
"Ah... it's not at all comparable to the honor of being able to meet representatives of the oldest magic school in the wizarding world. Not everyone can set foot there..." Alexander just smiled, not being provoked to explain further about his school. The man's eyes fell on Harry.
"Halo, Heir Peverell."
"Mr. Alexander," Harry shook the man's hand.
"Heir Marcus."
"Sir," Marcus nodded, but didn't offer his hand which was still around Harry's waist. "You... came alone?" there was a hidden question in that sentence, as if asking how he managed to get into Hogwarts alone.
"I came with several Avalon delegates. They are waiting in the Great Hall." The answer didn't really answer Marcus' curiosity. If the reason was because the man was a vampire and Hogwarts' wards could be penetrated, then that would be quite scary for Hogwarts security. But Marcus immediately remembered that pureblood vampires could turn into bats. Just like animagus, they are not blocked by wards.
"Ah! If that's the case, we can't waste any time," Dumbledore said, "How is Harry?"
"I agree with this deal, sir . I think this is the fairest solution. I will represent Avalon."
There was a hint of sadness in Dumbledore's eyes. But the man nodded, "Then we have a deal. Now, let's hear the mission for the Champions."
"Yes," said Mr Crouch, "instructions. Yes... first task..." He moved forward into the light of the fireplace. Up close, Harry thought, he looked like he was sick. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his wrinkled skin looked like dry paper. Even though that wasn't the case during the Quidditch World Cup. "The first task is designed to test your courage," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we won't tell you what it is. Courage to face the unknown is an important quality for a wizard... very important ...The first task will take place on the twenty-fourth of November, in front of all the students and the jury. The champions are not permitted to ask for or receive any form of help from their teachers to complete the tasks in this tournament "This is armed only with their magic wands. They will receive information about the second task after the first task is completed. Considering that this tournament is very difficult and time-consuming, the champions are exempt from taking the final exams of the school year." Mr Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's enough, right, Albus?"
"I suppose so," said Dumbledore, who looked at Mr Crouch with some concern.
"You really don't want to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"
"No, Dumbledore, I must return to the Ministry," said Mr Crouch. "At the moment we are very busy, in trouble... I left young Weatherby in charge... Very enthusiastic... a little too enthusiastic, actually..."
"Would you like a drink before you go home, at least?" asked Dumbledore.
"Come on, Barty, I'm staying over!" said Bagman cheerfully. "There's a big event going on at Hogwarts right now, it's much more exciting than at the office!"
"I don't think so, Ludo," said Crouch, a little impatient as before. He said to Dumbledore, "I'm sure you've already thought about accommodation for the Avalon wizarding school. In that case, I'll leave the rest to you."
Madame Maxime had put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her quickly out of the room. Harry could hear the two of them talking very quickly in French as they entered the Great Hall. Karkaroff motioned to Krum, and they too left, but in silence. Harry and Marcus walked behind Professor Alexander.
In the Great Hall, the Avalon delegation was waiting for them, standing in front of the Hall door while being watched by students and professors. Harry recognized the two young men standing there. They are Hacan Tremere and Seth Ravnos. The hall was so quiet with all the strange events that happened tonight. Cleverly, Dumbledore took over. The man waved his wand gently, as the Great Hall expanded with a crackle and a burst of golden light, making room for a long magic table to appear in the center. The old man motioned for Alexander to sit in an empty chair that suddenly appeared beside him.
"Good evening, children. Thank you for waiting. Before we end tonight's Halloween party, let's give a proper welcome to Headmaster Alexander Ravnos and the two delegations from the Avalon school of magic."
The three principals clapped and the others slowly followed, although the applause was not filled with enthusiasm, instead confusion.
Harry parted ways with Marcus in front of the teacher's desk; Marcus sat back in his place and Harry sat at the table that had just appeared with Hacan and Seth.
"Hey, begli occhi , " Seth snapped.
"Apa?"
"He complimented your eyes," said Hacan indifferently. He was busy sipping his red wine, which Harry suspected was fresh blood. It wasn't surprising that Hogwarts was that accommodating.
"How do you know if I was chosen as Champion?" Harry asked while one ear listened to Dumbledore speak:
"For those who have never heard of it, the Avalon school of magic is the oldest school of magic in the wizarding world. It is so secretive that only a handful of wizards and witches even know of the existence of a school that is considered part of fairy tales. Tonight we have been given the honor of meeting representatives of the school of magic that was formed by Merlin himself. Considering that this Tournament has four Champions, Mr. Potter will represent the Avalon school of magic."
Seth answered with his trademark crooked smile, "We don't know. We just happened to be watching on the ceiling when the commotion happened."
"So Avalon school doesn't know about your behavior?"
"Hey! It's all Alexander's fault. We both had nothing to do with it. I guess that guy didn't accept their treatment of you as Heir of Avalon."
Harry blushed. "I'm not Heir Avalon..."
"Aye, aye, kau hanya Harry Potter."
They stopped talking when they heard Dumbledore's voice booming, "Welcome. The Hall of Hogwarts welcomes you warmly." The greeting was said in an ancient manner, in honor of the Avalon school of magic. Alexander smiled and nodded.
After dinner was over, one by one the students left Hogwarts. Marcus stood with the Avalon representative to explain the night's accommodations. Meanwhile Harry returned to Slytherin House.
When he entered the dorm room, a group of students consisting of all members of the Knights of Walpurgin and most of the seniors were already waiting for him. Antonio Dolohov slowly stepped forward, and lowered his body until he was only resting on one leg. Harry looked at him confused as the young man took his left hand and kissed it, right on the lord's ring that was now visible to the naked eye due to the magic of the Triwizard Tournament, saying, "The Dolohov family declares its alliance to you, my lord."
"Apa..."
"So did the Malfoy family declare their alliance to Lord Peverell."
One by one they all took the oath of allegiance.
Harry stood there uncertainly. It seemed he had forgotten one of the most important things about the Triwizard Tournament. That by being chosen as champion, magic automatically recognized him as an adult. And of course, that meant, now he had officially become Lord of the noble and most ancient house of Peverell and indirectly Lord of two more noble houses; Merlin and Slytherin. Even though the last two names have lost their glory, they are more valuable than any gold and make him the lord of the oldest remaining wizarding family names in this world.
That night, in Wizengamot Hall, one chair appeared to complete the circle of chairs of the house of lords. The Peverel Triangle appears in a dark green emblem that flutters down; hovering over the chair.
Chapter 18
Notes:
Hi, my darlings. It's been a long hiatus, huh? This chapter has been on my mind for a long time. But I feel like if I wrote it at that time, it wouldn't be as complete as it is now. No boom and I'm going to regret it. Because I know myself, if I write wrongly, the story won't flow and ends up being wasted as a pile of trash without any desire to continue. So, to avoid that from happening, I restrained myself until inspiration really struck. Inspiration that can tie this chapter to the upcoming chapters. So, thank you very much for being patient. Without waiting any longer, happy reading!
Chapter Text
Ivan Beardsley is a muggle-born second year from Hufflepuff house. Just like most of the students, he also seriously read the article in the Daily Prophet that morning. Next to him, his two friends sat, reading along. The article made the front page of the Daily Prophet with a photo of Harry Potter displayed prominently there. His Green Eyes flashed as if filled with magic, as his face stared right at the photographer taking pictures, before moving away with fluttering robes and a fighter's stride. The photo was taken right after the name of the Triwizad Tournament champion was announced.
THE FAIRY RISE OF THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
Like rumors that are widely heard, rumors that make us wonder. Is it true what happened in last night's Triwizard Tournament champion selection? The Daily Prophet exists to provide enlightenment for all of us.
Yes, that's right, now the wizarding world is faced with not only three, but four champions in the Triwizard Tournament - even though this somewhat violates the essence of the meaning of the name of the tournament itself - but we all know, who can resist the magic that binds the goblet of fire. Who else if not, he who is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, Prince of the wizarding world, yes, who else if not Harry Potter-or perhaps more precisely, who is now known by the new name Hadrian James Peverell.
Beardsley wondered what was so special about the name Peverell. But looking at the attitude of his two friends who were born in the magical world, it seems he is quite special. His curiosity was answered in the next paragraph.
This was truly surprising, not only to me as a journalist, but also to me as part of the wizarding community. And honestly, it would be strange if this news didn't make our blood boil and the hair on our necks bristle. How come? because the name Peverell is not an arbitrary name in our history. There is no one who has not heard of this old, extinct family name; every wizard's child grew up hearing his tales and retelling them to their children. The fairy tale we know as The Tale of Three Brothers. But I won't go into this in this article (see page 17 of the Obituaries section for a more detailed biography of the Peverell family).
Beardsley moved to move the page, but Marry immediately slapped his hand away.
"Later," he grumbled, before continuing to read.
Maybe many of us are wondering how the name Harry Potter came out with a name, even a family name, which is different from his everyday nickname. It's a very old practice, one we've probably all forgotten. However, it was commonly found around the 5th century and is one of the many old ways that have been abandoned. It was a common practice among the aristocracy, especially during times of war, to hide the true breed from the nobility in order to protect the breed. The practice of hiding the name of magic (for more details see page 10 of the magic news section).
Of course, understanding that Harry Potter is a descendant of Merlin, in fact it is not surprising that the name Potter is a camouflage for the hidden name of magic. We know that the Peverells have an old line that stretches back as far as Slytherin and Gryffindor. And of course it is not surprising that the Prince of Magic is not just a nickname for the only and oldest line of British Royalty.
Beardsley whistled. Does that mean he can be considered to be in the same school as the prince? Wouldn't that mean Hogwarts would be an elite school, like the schools Prince William attended? He continued reading,
It's a bit of a shame that the magical Prince will not represent Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, considering that Hogwarts has its own champion in students from Hufflepuff house, who is no less brilliant, Cedric Digory. But it also gives us a new surprise with the arrival of the mysterious wizarding school Avalon, which claims Harry Potter as part of them. A legendary school of magic that until recently was only considered a myth to most wizards due to their secrecy. The Avalon school of magic chose to reveal the secret of their existence in order to restore the inheritance rights of the last of Merlin's bloodline.
The three boys stared at each other before hurriedly turning to page 17.
Death
THE PEVERELL FAMILY PART II
As written in the previous edition of Dialy Prophet. This article continues the author's research on the famous old Peverell family. Not much is known about the family whose motto is Malo mori guam foedari (Death rather than dishonour), beyond what is part of a collection of fairy tales written by Beedle the Bard. A medieval writer from the Yorkshire area who was famous for his writings which contained many values and morals.
We found a surprising reality when we tried to research further about the story. That apparently the name Peverell is real, and is one of the oldest wizarding families. This family has long since disappeared without a male heir, but it is not extinct. His descendants merged into several noble wizarding families, such as the Potters and the Gaunts. Just as the name Peverell carries a mysterious power, making it, in fact, a symbol of this family to be utilized by the Dark Lord Grindelward who 'stole' it as a symbol of his resurrection. Referring to three heirloom objects in fairy tales, this symbol closely links this family with Death. Even when reading the motto in an ancient manuscript, the hair on the author's neck bristled as if Death himself was staring at the author from behind his Veil.
So, is it surprising that impossible things happen to our magical prince, like surviving the Killing Curse? Is this a coincidence? Or was it because magic had summoned what had been dormant for a long time in his blood.
Harry threw his newspaper on the table, he stood up and flicked his wand while whispering tempus. He expected something like digital numbers floating in the air, but all his wand produced were sparks with the sound of cracking wood. Harry waved his hands in frustration.
"It's no use," he whispered, falling back on the sofa. "This wand no longer recognizes me."
Marcus sat with his usual deadpan expression. Seemed unfazed. "The wand chose Harry Potter. Which... Now you're more than that."
"That doesn't solve the problem..." Harry remembered what happened this morning. When representatives of the Ministry of Magic, Wandmaster Garrick Ollivander, and Rita Sketter came to Hogwarts for the Wand Weighing ; a wizard's way to test a magic wand, whether there is a problem or not, fully functional or not. To their astonishment--to the panic of the representatives of the British Ministry of Magic--they discovered that his wand no longer worked for him. There was nothing that could be done, even by Ollivander. Unless, Harry gets a new wand that will choose him. The problem was, Harry wasn't sure there was such a wand in the man's shop. Let's just say it's a hunch.
"You don't have a vision of this? Don't any of the other Harrys, perhaps, have a solution?"
Harry bit his lip. "There is... Harry the fool... But you wouldn't want to see me become that version of myself... he's too crazy," Harry whispered as if he himself was worried that his sanity would be reduced just by talking about another version of himself. "But he's a master of wandless magic..."
"If he can, you should."
If only he could trust himself as much as Marcus did. However, Harry the Fool honed his skills over a short period of time, and the missions he faced were far from ordinary. After all, the place where Harry the Fool lives is more like medieval England.
"Or you could find another magic conductor," Marcus took her hand, gently. His thumb rubbed the lord's ring with a triangle symbol hidden in its dark stone, Marcus kissed the stone. Magic buzzed between them. "Losing Holly's wand doesn't mean you lose all your magical relics. Before magic wands were created, Merlin walked the earth using his staff, so did Morgana, Herpo the foul..." the man raised Harry's hand, showing the ring on his finger, "Isn't it That man also wears this ring for his magic conductor?"
Harry swallowed hard, "Marcus." Magic rang in his ears. The pressure made the room feel cramped. But Marcus' black eyes didn't move from Harry. The silver circle on his retina radiated magic.
"All you have to do is ask."
Harry whispered, "Pull it off." The finger the ring was on vibrated and warmed, before digital numbers floated above it. "Oh, Merlin's beard."
Marcus straightened his back again, "Who said you needed a cane." He grinned broadly. "I can't wait to see people's reactions."
Harry shot him a sour look.
Of course, the problem with Harry's wand made the headlines of the Daily Prophet the next day, just as it had before. Every time he walked in the corridor there were always looks of sympathy and pity that made his eyebrows never stop twitching. Luckily, unlike his other alternatives, Harry's position in this place made him impossible to hate. No one was enchanting pins with HARRY SMELLY written on them, no one was whispering and pointing. Most of them could only stare at Harry gaping as he passed, or writhed screaming as if trying hard not to kiss his feet because Marcus was there. Luckily, most students can restrain themselves in their fangirl behavior. It might also be useful to walk with two Vampires.
The Avalon school's involvement means there are now five tables lined up in the Great Hall. In contrast to other wizarding schools that are mixed with all four houses, it seems that Hogwarts pays special attention to the Avalon school, which only has three people. There was even a new corridor formed to accommodate the three people with four rooms available as if they also invited Harry to be part of the new corridor. The corridor which now has the nickname Avalon corridor.
The corridor entrance was located close to the great hall. And it can only be entered if you can say the password to the statue of the soldier guarding there. If you try to enter, then be prepared to have your sword skills tested by troops in armor.
If you can get through that with magic, then your second test will be a witch statue that can curse you. The security is really tight beyond the principal's office. Fortunately,
So, Hogwarts didn't really create a new corridor. It's just that a good reason is needed to open the secret corridor again. The proof is that the bookshelves stored there are much older than Hogwarts itself.
Harry was more or less grateful that he could hide there. Moreover, after his uniform lost its green color, it was as if he had been temporarily expelled from Hogwarts. Adding and subtracting dorm points also had no effect on him anymore. He didn't expect the impact to go this far. Although he was not rejected when he entered class, he was worried that he would not be able to take the exam at Hogwarts.
Alexander said Harry could consider himself an exchange student and the Avalon school was happy to give him a place for exams. He didn't know how the man would get around Harry's grades with the different curriculum systems between Hogwarts and Avalon. But if the man could help him, Harry wouldn't say much.
Amidst all the europhia of the tournament, and the joy of the children, Harry did not get carried away. The professors understand a little more about what it means to be a Triwizard Tournament champion, show sympathy, and express a willingness to help Harry. But, nothing interested him more than Barty Jr.'s behavior in his disguise.
He had been in this office when it was occupied by two of Moody's predecessors. When Professor Lockhart was in charge, the walls were covered with photos of himself winking and smiling. When Professor Lupine lived here, he often saw new and interesting creatures of the Dark World, which Lupine discovered to study in class. But now, the office was full of incredibly strange objects, which Harry assumed were disguises for the crazy character he was playing.
On his table was something that looked like a large, cracked glass top. Harry immediately recognized it as a Suspicious Binocular, because he had one himself, although it was much smaller than Barty's binoculars. In one corner, on a small table, there was what looked like a snaking golden television antenna. The antenna hummed softly. Something like a mirror hung on the wall opposite Harry, but it didn't reflect the room. Shadow-like figures moved about within it, none of them in sharp focus.
"Like my Foe-Glass, hm?" said Barty, maintaining her role well. He stared at Harry closely as if assessing Harry's reaction. But, Harry was a true Slytherin. He just smiled and lost all emotion in his movements.
"Ah... what an interesting thing you have, sir. If I'm not mistaken, Foe-Glass is a tool used to monitor enemies, isn't it? It's very interesting when your shadow is your own enemy."
The man immediately got up in a quick movement as if ignited by fire. His face was deathly pale. But, Harry didn't budge, still with his innocent smile, he added, "There is a muggle saying "oneself is the greatest enemy" , it's unimaginable to me, of course a former Auror like you considers yourself the most dangerous enemy, right?"
An oppressive silence spread between them, and it didn't disappear even when the metal suitcase in the room started shaking and jerking as if whatever was stored inside wanted to come out. Ah, it's really not safe to talk in this place. Someone was eavesdropping, Harry thought.
Harry snapped his fingers, and instantly a bubble of privacy surrounded them. "Don't want anyone eavesdropping, sir..." Harry whispered as he glanced at the metal trunk. Ignoring the man's gasp, Harry added, "Is there something you want to tell me, sir?"
For a few moments the man opened his mouth and then closed it again. Then, he made a gesture to invite him to sit down. Without saying much, the man shuffled on his limp legs to the work table to make tea. When the cup was offered to Harry, he just smiled without taking it. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to drink tea from a pureblood who had been held captive for so long without the freedom to do anything, he wasn't sure the tea was worth drinking. Barty just shrugged and took a sip of his own tea, before frowning and putting the cup back down with an annoyed expression. Well, he should just annoy the House Elves.
"I've read your article."
"Huh?" Harry co*cked his head.
" All the articles you write."
Of course. He had submitted more than a dozen articles since the first one that caused a stir in the wizarding community. It seemed that, even though many criticized his opinion, that did not prevent them from eating what the Boy-Who-Lived had to offer. Especially, after the Daily Prophet kept publishing articles about him at his request. Making its reputation even more widely heard. He wanted to show Tom what kind of diplomacy a dark lord should do. Or even Dumbledore; what it would be like to save the magical community, to restore balance to magic, by diplomatic means, without eliminating others.
"I hear you, sir."
Moddy looked at him sharply, "From what I have read and our conversation yesterday, I know you do not merely support white propaganda," the man looked at his clothes, where the Slytherin symbol was originally embedded, "You are calling out the dangers of inbreeding, the Squib's connection to birth. muggle-born. But you don't seem anti-pureblood with your articles about Yule and Samhain."
"I hope you'll get to the point, sir."
"Apa kau dark lord, mr Peverell?"
Hearing that Harry couldn't hold back his laughter, until tears came out of his eyes. But Barty's expression didn't change one bit. He wasn't kidding about his curiosity, oh, what a true Ravenclaw he was.
"You're really funny. Just imagine if I really was a dark lord, how could I confess to a former Auror? You don't seem to be talking about yourself, sir," quipped Harry. "But with full respect, I am not a Dark Lord, although I am the lord of a family whose blood is darker than the dark lords themselves," whispered Harry finally.
"I felt your magic on Samhain, Mr Peverell."
"What do you think, sir?"
"It's not surprising that Peverell's name came out to replace Potter's. Your magic is darker than any wizard I've ever met, even among the Death Eaters. But that's not what I called you here for. I'm curious, if after you published that article, nothing would have changed ... what are your plans Mr. Peverell?"
"What makes you think I have a plan, sir? I'm still a student, after all. Publishing an article like that wouldn't be more than enough?"
"You're still a student, but there's no one at Hogwarts who holds as much power as you," he paused, "And you're a Slytherin. I've never known a Slytherin who wasn't up to something."
Harry grinned, "Oh, you have a lot of Slytherin acquaintances, sir? Weren't you a Gryffindor?" Harry got up, deciding to end the pleasantries. Barty's disguise was good enough for anyone else, but not for Harry who knew where to look. But, what can be expected from the disguise of someone who previously continuously received the Imperius curse?
Harry walked over to the fireplace and waved his hand, easily lighting it using magic. The cold room gradually warmed up. Barty's eyes widened at how easily Harry could use wandless magic, or cast spells. But his attention was drawn to Harry's words, "I want to end the war by not imprisoning all dark wizards, by not completely blocking access to muggles, by not killing or kidnapping muggle-born wizards, by not excommunicating half-bolds."
"That's a very idealistic goal. I'm not sure anyone can make it all happen."
Harry nodded, "Of course it will take a long time. And of course I can't do it alone. But I can spread the seeds, the ripples that cause waves. Slowly a movement will emerge where they don't have to be ordered to do something, but are aware that it it must be done. I don't want wizards to lose their creativity because of blind servitude. I will just open as many doors as possible, for every wizard in this country to be able to defend their honor without being distinguished by their blood, because what right do we have to consider one worthy and another not, where Lady Magic herself bestows her blessings?”
"But what about the security of the wizarding world. If every muggle-born had the same rights as purebloods?"
Harry shook his head, "Oh, No. Not the same. You think there is a system in this world that really gives equal rights? Even in the muggle world itself, the more powerful a person is, he will receive more rights than others. That is the law nature, something that makes us survival creatures, that's the food chain, that's natural!"
"Perhaps what I said to you earlier was not clear enough," Harry waved his hand casually at the newspaper on the table. "What I mean is integrating muggle-borns and half-bloods with wizarding values and traditions, making them understand the importance of each tradition to magic. Embracing them into this community truly. Not just demanding that they understand, but teaching them by changing the system at Hogwarts; creating a new curriculum with wizard traditions there, alongside Muggle-studies. Maybe changing the system at the Ministry so that both half-bloods and muggleborns feel like they are part of this community, not just tourists who are stopping by .
"But that won't happen if there are still no jobs that can accommodate Muggleborns. It won't, if in the Ministry of Magic itself there are no high positions for Muggleborns or halfbloods to occupy. Not when they still get more opportunities in the muggle world than in the wizarding world. They don't have a career in the wizarding world, sir. This kind of thing will bite us in the back and be the biggest reason for violating the Statute of Secrecy ! "
Barty leaned over with an interested expression. There was no apparent denial or annoyance at Harry's statement which in fact violated the pureblood principles of Toujours pur (always/remain pure). "So your next plan?"
"I will continue to write articles. I also don't rule out the possibility that I will get involved in politics. I want to restore the meaning of December 25th, sir. If there are fewer and fewer people who practice Yule, I'm afraid that over time Magic will disappear from this world. And that's when it happens , disaster is not only for wizards, because every breath of living creatures and the length of the roots of trees penetrate the earth, there is magic flowing in them."
Harry smiled sadly, "I just want to change the wizarding world... or rather return the wizarding world to the direction it should be..."
"That... that's the sentence the Dark Lord always says, Mr Peverell..."
"Of course. What would happen if the light lords didn't have dark lords? The world would be one-sided. The difference is, it would be worse if one of them didn't understand his role, and pulled magic in one direction, whereas real magic is a balance. Nothing black, no white. There is only magic..."
"You... you're not at all worried that I'll tell Dumbledore?"
Harry openly rolled his eyes, screw manners, "I'm not his pawn," then with a crooked smile, he added, "I'm more worried you'll tell Voldemort."
Instantly the chair was knocked over and the table overturned as Barty moved as fast as lightning to stab Harry with the tip of his magic wand. The man's face was pale and his fake eyes moved wildly. His healthy eyes stared at her intensely with a hint of madness radiating there.
But Harry's expression didn't change. He remained calm like unruffled water.
"Mr. Peverell-"
"Bartemius..." Harry's hand gripped his arm. "Did you know. I can also remove the dark mark on your arm..." Harry smiled, "Besides, I'm a Parselmouth too..."
"How-"
"Oh... did I forget to mention? I'm a Seer." The man gasped. "I see your death, Barty. At the Dementor's kiss, if you continue down this path..." magic flowed between them, and Harry's eyelids turned white slowly, like cloudy milk. Cold smoke came out of his lips and nose as he breathed out the words, "But I also see you, standing confidently, sanely, next to me, next to Marcus. What do you choose?"
Barty sat far away. His hands were still gripping Harry like they were gripping a rope at the edge of an abyss. His body trembled violently, and he curled up at Harry's feet. His voice trembled as he whispered, "My Lord..."
Harry bent down, cupped Barty's head and lifted her up. Still with his eyes full of magic, Harry's fingers stroked his cheek and slowly moved towards his eyes. With inhuman speed, his finger ripped open the fake eye, until Barty screamed in pain, as the effects of the Polyjuice faded, burned by Harry's magic. The scarred face slowly changed, showing high cheekbones, a sharp nose, black eyes and an overall pureblood facial features. "Oh, Barty... it's over. You will no longer experience that pain. There will be no more imperius or Crucio... you will live, and you will be happy."
At the end of that sentence, the man cried until he sobbed. He hugged Harry's legs as if he saw the messiah, and his lips continued to chant, "My lord. My lord..."
Harry stroked Barty's hair affectionately. In his head, he already saw how close they would become. They will go through many things together in the future. Barty will be one of the few people he trusts.
Harry sighed, "Dobby."
Tar's loud voice was heard, suddenly Dobby appeared, "Lord Peverell summoned Dobby?"
"Please get a calming draft, thank you, Dobby."
"Dobby do it, lord Peverell!"
Time has passed for a long time. The fireplace was still burning with magic fire, but the sky had long been dark. Harry had a feeling Marcus was looking for him. But he remained calm, Marcus would know if he was in danger.
It's going to be a long night for everyone.
"Are you calm, Barty?"
"My lord."
"Oh, stop that. You still have to maintain your disguise."
"No, if it's just the two of us."
"I want you to continue doing what Voldemord ordered. I want to meet him."
"My, Lord! The dark lord is planning something very-"
Harry waved the ladder away, "I know. Seer, remember?" Harry cupped his chin lazily, "Don't worry, I have a plan. Besides, do you have any plans after this?"
"After this?"
"After this mission. You won't continue living on the run, right?"
The man stuttered.
Harry glared at him, "You don't have a plan?"
It was surprising to see Barty's cheeks turn red, "I was just thinking about returning to the Dark Lord's side, there's nothing more than that..."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You also need to live, Barty. You are not just a servant of the dark lord. Living people need an identity. I hope you can think of something, like turning into your distant cousin or something."
Barty nodded. "I can create a new identity as a cousin living in Egypt. Coincidentally, Lord Crouch's death could be a reason for me to return to England. Since there is no successor in the nuclear family, I can come to claim the Crouch family inheritance."
Harry choked out, "Since when was your father dead?!"
"Voldemort killed him. Currently Quirrell is in his place communicating with the Ministry via owl."
"Don't say it was Quirrell in disguise who came to Hogwarts."
"Uh..."
"Oh, Merlin's beard. I didn't see that," Harry whispered in frustration. "That makes us even more careful. Watch your steps Barty, especially in front of Quirrell."
"Of course, my Lord. But so are you. Severus Snape was his most loyal follower..."
"Oh, Barty..." Harry patted Barty's head affectionately. "You don't need to worry. I can handle it," Harry looked towards the window. "I have to get back before curfew." Harry said as he moved away.
"Oh, my lord! I meant to tell you. The First Test for the Triwizart tournament is-"
"Dragon?" Harry grinned, "I know. Good evening, Professor." Harry said as he closed the door.
After a few seconds passed, Barty fell on the sofa, before burying her face in her arms. His back trembled, until soon he heard the sound of laughter. The man wiped his tears, but the smile had not yet faded from his face. If anyone were to see, anyone would definitely be able to see the hope in his eyes.
Harry was walking in the part of the castle that led to the corridors of Avalon when his arm was suddenly grabbed. His body immediately reacted to attack, but the familiar smell of the potion made Harry throw up his arms and hug Severus Prince tightly.
"Mr. Peverell..."
"Professor..."
The man sighed, "Marcus looked for you and scared the first year."
"Em..."
After a moment's pause, "Are you okay?" the man's hand ran through Harry's hair.
"Now, yes." Harry let go. "I'm a little stressed."
"That's only natural," the man assessed Harry, "Do you know what the exam is like?"
Harry nodded, "Did you come to tell me, Professor."
The man narrowed his eyes, "There's no rule against me telling you, Mr Peverell, especially with two principals doing the same thing."
"Oh!"
"Yes. Collusion and nepotism are nothing new, Mr Peverell. If you already know that, you should rest immediately. Hogwarts champion or not, no one wants to see you burnt during the exams."
Harry grinned, rubbing his cheek against Severus' palm. "Okay, Dad..." before he pulled away and left with a good night. Leaving Severus frozen there.
On the morning of November 24, all the students flocked to the arena where the first exam began. The laughter and jokes suddenly disappeared when a loud roar came from inside the arena. The smile was replaced by a pale face.
Harry sat in his special room which was made of a tent and a patchwork door. But the room was decorated with a sofa, a coffee table filled with snacks and snacks. He sat with his cup of tea while hearing the sound of trumpets and the noise from the arena. Marcus stood behind him, his hand touching Harry's shoulder and not letting go. The two vampires peeked at the arena.
Not long after, someone parted the rags and Alexander entered the room with a folded robe.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "I don't know if there is a special uniform for this tournament."
The man smiled, the tips of his fangs peeking out slightly from his red lips. "Ah... of course as representatives of Avalon, we can't make you just wear a t-shirt and sweatpants, right?" the man lowered his gaze, assessing Harry's clothing, "Or a uniform missing its symbols."
"What did you bring me?"
"How about you give it a try?"
That was why, unlike the other participants, Harry stood in front of the participant's tent in his new uniform. In the form of a dark robe with dark red accents that covers most of his body. The robe fell to his feet and the symbol of Avalon was printed prominently on his shoulders.
The symbols are a spiral, the Greek letter θ (theta), the alchemical symbol for fire, the symbol of feminine lady earth, exalibur and a circle like an apple, in accordance with the origin of the name Avalon which means apple in Celtic, the apple of the tree of knowledge.
Of course Harry wouldn't wear the cloak on a mission. All this is just for appearance. His actual uniform is beneath the cloak, much more practical, and made specifically for combat. It has a pressed body, made of fire-resistant leather, with guards on the arms and knees, dragon leather boots that have curse resistance, several pockets to hide daggers, and a wand holster on the arm in case he has a wand. It can't be denied, he looks badass.
When he came out, noise and shouts could be heard from the stands. But Harry's attention was focused on Marcus. The man didn't say anything, but the frown on his forehead couldn't fool Harry.
"I'll be fine," he added after consideration, "I've seen it."
His frown deepened, "That doesn't make me like him any more." The man cupped Harry's hand and brought it to his lips. "I am the Knight of Merlin."
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"My job is to protect you. Not send you to suicide."
Harry rolled his eyes, "It's a tournament."
"This is slaughter."
"I will live."
"Hati-hati, my love," bisiknya
Harry's eyes softened, "Always."
Harry entered the main tent where the participants were gathered. The first thing he saw was Fleur Delacour sitting in a corner on a low wooden bench. He didn't look as calm as usual, but rather pale and sweaty. Viktor Krum looked fiercer than usual. Harry suspected that was his way of showing tension. Cedric walked back and forth. When Harry entered, Cedric gave him a small smile, which Harry returned. Harry felt his facial muscles stiffen, as if he had forgotten how to smile.
"Harry! Welcome!" Bagman greeted cheerfully, turning to look at him. "Come in, come in, consider it your own home!"
Bagman looked like an oversized cartoon character, standing amidst the pale-faced champions. He wore his old robe again.
"I will offer this bag to you," he lifted a small bag of purple silk and shook it in front of them "from inside it you will each choose a miniature model of the thing you have to face! Because... er... the types are different . And I have to tell you one more thing... ah, yes... your job is to retrieve the golden egg!"
Harry looked around. Cedric nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words. Fleur and Krum didn't react at all. Maybe they think they will vomit if they open their mouth. But at least, they both volunteered to take part in this tournament... while Harry...
Bagman opened the silk pouch. "Ladies first," he said, holding out the bag to Fleur Delacour. Fleur reached a trembling hand into the bag and pulled out a perfect miniature dragon model—the Green Dragon of Wales. There is a number two around his neck. And, seeing Fleur who showed no signs of surprise, but rather resigned determination, Harry knew that his guess was correct; Madame Maxime had told the girl what she would face.
The same thing happened to Krum. He took out a red female Chinese Fireball. The number three hangs around his neck. Krum didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.
Cedric reached into his pocket, and pulled out a blue-grey Swedish Short-Snouted dragon, with the number one hanging around its neck. Cedric frowned. Harry didn't tell him directly, he just left notes about what they would face in the exam. Maybe it was only this moment that the young man truly believed that they would face a dragon.
Harry reached into the silk pouch and pulled out the number four Hungarian Horntail dragon. The dragon spread its wings as Harry looked down at it, and grinned showing off its tiny fangs.
"Well, that's it!" Bagman said. "Each of you has brought out the dragons that you will face, and those numbers are your serial numbers to face those dragons. In a moment I have to leave you, because I will be the one to comment. Mr Diggory, you are the first . Come straight out into the fenced-in arena when you hear the whistle, okay? Now... Harry... can we talk outside?"
"Er... yes," said Harry. He got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who led him to walk a little away, into the trees, and then turned to face him with a fatherly expression on his face.
"You feeling alright, Harry? Is there anything I can get you?"
"What?" said Harry. "I… no, there isn't."
"Do you have a plan yet?" Bagman asked, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. "Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you want. I mean," Bagman continued, lowering his voice even lower, "you're the weakest, and you don't have a wand... If there's anything I can do to help..."
"No," said Harry, he realized he sounded rude, "I probably don't even need a wand. So, no thanks."
"No one will know, Harry," said Bagman, winking at him.
Harry, to himself, wondered why the man continued to insist.
There was a whistle blowing from somewhere.
"Jeez, I have to hurry!" said Bagman in surprise, and he hurried away.
Harry walked back into the tent and saw Cedric come out, paler than before. They just passed each other in silence. Saying good luck feels like goodbye forever. Harry chose to sit and close his eyes, while waiting for his name to be called. He had seen many fates from this game, and he didn't want to repeat it again by seeing it firsthand. He had even seen the worst possible outcome. As long as no one died, that was enough for Harry.
Cheers cut through the winter air like shattering glass. Krum had finished his task Harry's turn would come any moment. Harry got up, he had had enough of waiting. Then he heard a whistle blow. He walked through the tent door, along a path filled with trees on his right and left, and entered through a hole in the arena fence.
He saw everything in front of him as if in a colorful dream. Hundreds of faces looked up at him from the tall stands that had been magically erected around the arena. And at the other end of the arena was the Horntail, crouching low to protect its eggs, its wings half outstretched, its cruel yellow eyes staring at Harry. He felt like a gladiator who was about to compete, but not for slaves who were trying to gain freedom, but only for the entertainment of the rulers. It has no significance in itself. And that's what disgusted him the most.
The dragon's figure was a terrifying giant scaly lizard, thrashing its barbed tail, leaving indentations nearly a meter long on the hard ground. The crowd was loud, but Harry didn't care. It was time to do what he had to do.
Walking slowly, he approached the Dragon. The Hungarian Horntail's head snapped up at the sight. His nose blew out sparks. Instantly people throughout the stadium became silent.
In the stillness, his whisper sounded loud, "$Hail, mighty dragon$." Hearing his voice, the dragon looked up in interest.
"$Two legs, can talk. What do you want, Two Legs?$"
Instantly the stadium erupted into chaos. "HEY THIS IS NOT FAIR. HE'S CHEATING!"
"HE'S NOT FIGHTING?!"
Harry ignored all that, and continued, "I don't want to disturb your nest, O mighty Dragon. I want to help you. Did you know that one of the eggs you hatched was a fake? It was a magic egg that could interfere with the growth of your other eggs ." $ Harry knew he was talking nonsense, but he didn't care.
$"Fake?! How can you tell the difference from a fake?!"$
$"Oh, that's easy for Two Legs like me. I just summon it using magic, then the fake one will appear by itself. Dragons as magical creatures certainly know if the magic I use is a trick."$
$ "Okay, Speaker, I will believe you. But if you lie, I will burn the roots of your hair."$
$" Accio fake egg"$ suddenly a golden egg shot from under the dragon's body and fell into his hand. $"Thank you for trusting me, strong Dragon, may your children grow up healthy and strong."$
The dragon only responded with a burst of smoke from its nose. Harry turned away, leaving the arena without waiting for the judges to count. He really didn't care.
As soon as he entered the tent, his body was immediately hit and his face was covered with curly hair. He hugged Hermione back tightly, while behind him, Draco, Ron, Nevile stood with pale faces. He was even sure that Ron and Draco were holding each other before Draco realized and waved his hand away in disgust. After Hermione let go of him, his body was immediately lifted into his strong arms and sat there like a five year old child. But Harry didn't protest. He hugged Marcus just as tightly, while the man buried his head in Harry's neck.
As Harry relaxed his embrace, his gaze fell on Victor Krum whose lap was filled with Draco Malfoy. He didn't know how it happened, but what was clear was that his friend had now turned into a boiled shrimp on the young man's lap. Ron looked like he was going to throw up because his idol was cuddling with his nemesis.
Seth and Hacan were not in the tent. But he could feel its presence. His sensitive magic knew that the two vampires were probably hiding in their bat forms, staring at them from a distance. Harry knew they weren't that comfortable with humans to want to get involved in their drama.
"You're in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" said Blaise Zabini, rushing to meet them as they prepared to return to Hogwarts. "I've got to run now. I've got to send an owl to Mum, I swore I'd tell her what happened but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah... and they told me to tell you you've got to wait a few minutes... Bagman wants to talk, in the tent of champions."
Ron said he would wait, so Harry went back into the champions' tent with Marcus. He was sure that the man would not let him go, even if he was forbidden to enter. No one could let go of Kestria with her master, after all. It's a law much older than the Triwizard tournament.
Fleur, Cedric, and Krum entered together. Cedric's face was thickly smeared with orange ointment, probably burn ointment. He smiled at Harry. "Great, Harry."
"You too," said Harry, smiling back.
"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, stepping lightly into the tent and looking as happy as if he had just managed to get past a dragon himself. "You have a long rest before the second task, which will take place at half past ten on the morning of the twenty-fourth of February... but in the meantime we have given you something to think about! If you examine the golden egg you are holding, you can see that the egg- The egg can be opened... look at the hinge? You have to solve the clue inside the egg because the clue will tell you what your second task is, so you can prepare yourself to face it. Are you sure? in that case!"
Harry left the tent, still in his arms. Harry wanted to know what the other champions were doing in more detail. Then, as they rounded a clump of trees through which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch sprang out from behind them.
Rita Skeeter! He wore a brilliant green robe today. The Feather-Lightning Pen in his hand blended with the color of his robe.
"Congratulations, Harry!" he said, smiling at Harry. "How about you give me a few words or two? How did you feel when you faced the dragon? How do you feel now, about the scoring, is it fair enough?"
"Rita." said Harry warningly, "I will answer you if you don't use the quill." Instantly Marcus snapped his fingers and the feather caught fire, making the woman scream and drop it.
"How do you feel after getting first place with Victor Krum?"
"Rather than happy, I feel more relieved. And I don't care about that grade."
"Oh! Is that because you don't represent Hogwarts?"
"Not really. That's because I think this Tournament is bullsh*t. This Tournament is just a Ministry of Magic camouflage to cover up the events of the Quidditch World Cup. I hope they choose something more rational than a gladiator tournament preying on their own children. Once I become part of the Wizangamot."
"Oh! You're interested in getting involved in politics."
"Of course. Have you forgotten. I'm a Lord. The Triwizart Tournament allowed me to be recognized as an adult two years early."
The woman's smile faded. "I...I look forward to your action, Lord Peverell."
Harry's smile became sharp. He was sure the woman read the threat behind their conversation.
Harry didn't return to the Slytherin dorms, despite Draco's whining. He knew very well that he would not find peace when he returned there. So, he and Marcus agreed to return to the corridors of Avalon. In the recreation room, the three vampires were waiting for him. They took turns hugging Harry while congratulating him, and if Seth had accidentally licked Harry's cheek a little, Marcus would have thrown a curse at him.
The five of them sat around the egg. Curious about what's inside. "Do you need to incubate it so it hatches?" Hacan commented.
"I thought it was a fake egg?" Seth shot him a confused look.
The Vampire Elder laughed softly, "It's a magic item. There must be another way, besides incubating it, to find out what's inside. Don't you see something."
"Ah... I didn't see anything specific. But I have a suspicion... hm... try prying, Seth."
The vampire pulled the egg closer, and with his long nails as strong as iron pried the top of the egg open, and suddenly their ears bled with a deafening screech like someone being tortured by the Crucio. Seth closed it with a bang. "For Morgana's sake.... What the hell..."
"Ah... I think I know what it is. I heard about it at the DMS meeting."
"Huh?" The four wizards looked at the Vampire Elder who was still wearing a gentle smile, but for some reason there seemed to be pain hidden in that smile.
"There was a suggestion to open the meeting with a choir - to make the meeting seem more formal. At first everything was fine, until the part where the Merpeople had to sing. Apparently that's what they sound like," he pointed to the egg, "When singing outside the water. Since then, hymns and the like are prohibited in the DMS Hall."
The two vampires laughed so hard they rolled around. They couldn't imagine a group of Merpeople singing together. Luckily they are magical creatures that are difficult to kill.
Harry couldn't imagine what it would be like if that happened in the Great Hall. Maybe Madam Pomfrey will be busy all day treating ears.
Finally they dropped the egg into a basin of water and opened it. Suddenly, a melodious song rang out, bringing a feeling of déjà vu to the familiar music. Harry often dreamed about it in his childhood. Lullaby lyrics.
Come find us where our voices are heard,
We can't sing above the ground,
And as you search, think about this:
"You have to search for an hour,
To get what we took.
But after an hour the prospects were black
It's too late, it's gone, it won't come back.
They looked at each other.
"The one who sings Merpeople, you know... your next test is underwater," said Seth.
"Our next task is to find magic that can help you breathe underwater," said Alexander.
"By the way, what will it take?" asked Hacan.
"Definitely something important to Harry," said Sent.
" But after an hour - the prospect is black. It's too late, it's gone, it won't come back. The thing will be damaged after an hour," muttered Marcus. They were all thinking hard about what kind of thing it was, when Harry suddenly chirped.
"As long as it's not a person, right? If the object is damaged, it's no problem. But if it's a person, it's different."
Slowly, they all turned to Harry with horrified expressions.
"What?" snapped Harry frantically.
"You're the Seer, Harry."
"I didn't see anything!"
"But the Seer doesn't just see. His words can also mean divination."
"Bloody hell," bisik Marcus.
continued.
Chapter 19
Notes:
Hello, darlings! I'm so sorry I've only just been able to update. Please read, OK?
Chapter Text
Harry placed the fake dragon egg in front of the glass, on the antique table of his private room in the Avalon corridor. No one said he had to return the egg. So, he took it as a souvenir. Sadly enough, the only gain from betting in front of the dragon's fire was just this useless egg. Oh well, at least he could use this thing to scare Draco on Halloween.
Harry took a piece of parchment, unrolled it and walked over to a wide workbench, made of black wood whose edges were engraved with the highly detailed symbols of Avalon. He placed the parchment with other rolls of parchment, among many newspapers and dry quills and ink bottles. The folds of the Daily Prophet newspaper there showed a page with a large title clearly displayed; SQUIBS, THEIR EXISTENCE AND INFLUENCE IN THE MAGICAL WORLD by Harry Potter, WIZARDS' LAW: FOR THE SAKE OF THE WIZANGAMOT OR ARE THEIR INDEPENDENTS OF THE MAGICAL WORLD by Harry Potter. Meanwhile, with The Quibbler, the titles are much bolder and more radical; INJUSTICE FOR WIZARDS IN THE MINISTRY by Harry Potter, WRONG MEANING OF THE TERM WITCH ACCORDING TO PUREBLOOD by Harry Potter, WRONG WIZENGAMOT POLICY by Harry Potter. All written with different dates. The articles written by Harry are side by side with articles about him; between gossip columns, popularity voting and actions during tournaments. All overlapped in newspaper sheets. In essence, the entirety of this newspaper is about him.
Yes. If other participants take advantage of the time available in the Triwizard Tournament to hone their magic. Harry preferred to sharpen his quill. You could say he's careless or even ambitious. But, Harry didn't mind that too much. He has targets to achieve and he understands his own ability to worry. After all, while they all lived normal lives, Harry's daily life was spent in crazy training with Lord Flint.
"Harry." Marcus' voice brought him out of his reverie. The man stepped silently towards him. However, instead of taking a place on the sofa in front of him, Marcus squatted in front of him, propping himself on one knee. He took Harry's hand and kissed it softly. "Let me take you to dinner tonight."
"Tonight?" Harry raised an eyebrow. He didn't see this coming. "I didn't know your current position would make an exception for taking a student out at curfew, Marcus." Harry smiled gently, observing his handsome face which was always expressionless. But Harry could see the sadness in her eyes as she looked at him.
"Hm... Dumbledore gave permission for the four tournament participants to be given free time that they could spend with those closest to them - I heard this was due to consideration of the dangerous mission..." what Harry heard in that sentence was that in essence, they were given the opportunity to say goodbye Lastly, if anything happens. "I heard Fleur took the opportunity to have dinner with her family. That's why I wanted to take you out… maybe we could go for a walk in Muggle London." The man pulled him to his feet and led him in front of the fireplace. "The fireplace is specially connected, and can only be used once round trip." Easily, he lifted Harry into his arms and into the green burning fire. As soon as he threw the floo powder, he shouted, St Saviours, Knightsbridge!"
Marcus stepped swiftly out of the fireplace. Harry opened his eyes and let out a sound of amazement. Currently they were in a room lit by crystal chandeliers. The afternoon sun streamed in through the tall windows. They were standing in, what Harry believed, a living room. The walls in the room are painted white with black wood accents on each platform and windows. White sofas stood in the middle of the room next to a long glass table. Having spent a lot of time at Hogwarts and Flint Manor, he was very surprised by the modern style of this place.
"Welcome to St Saviours, rebuilt from the ruins of an old church by a famous Muggle-born architect and converted into a private residence
"Welcome to St Saviours, rebuilt from the ruins of an old church by a famous Muggle-born architect and converted into a private residence. It's in the middle of Knightsbridge. I bought it so we could spend some time in the midst of civilization."
Harry unconsciously stepped along the room. Admire every piece of equipment and its modern style. "So this is the bancelor's house, your bachelor's house?"
Marcus laughed at the term, "You could think of it that way if you only saw it from me buying it right out of Hogwarts. But... this house is in your name. So maybe it's more appropriate, this is your house-"
Harry turned around quickly with wide eyes. "No."
"Harry..."
"You can't do this!" Harry grabbed Marcus' arm which led him to sit on one of the sofas, while the man took the place in front of Harry. Cupped his face. "It's not fair. You can't do that..."
"I want to do it. I want you to have this place when you need to be alone, or you want to go on vacation and spend time with your friends." Marcus swallowed hard, "Or when I'm not around."
"Marcus!"
"Hey, hey, shh..." Marcus stroked Harry's cheek. "I won't leave you. But I also won't live forever. I know you hate places that are too big, and you don't feel like you really own Flint Manor. I want it, if one day - for various reasons - I can't be with you anymore I want you to own this place." Marcus grabbed Harry easily and sat him on his lap. "I didn't mean to make you sad."
Harry buried his face into Marcus' shoulder. "You didn't just plan this, right? I know you. You don't half-ass when you plan something," his last sentence was said with a grunt.
Marcus suppressed a smile. "I would like to introduce you to the head of the financial team who will take care of you."
"Tim finansial?"
"Hm... after graduating from Hogwarts, I should have enrolled in Avalon. However, because what happened was different. I decided to go into the family business. Currently, all the financial affairs of the Flint family in the Muggle world are in my hands. And, I intends to give you a special team that can develop your Vault not only in the wizarding world, but also in the Muggle world. The leader of this team is half-blood, so you can talk to him freely."
Harry sighed, "You not only gave me a home, but also prepared me financially. You don't intend to leave me, do you?"
"Nonsense." Marcus pulled Harry close and put his arm around his waist. "I will always be by your side until you get bored of me." The man whispered softly, his gaze slowly dropping to Harry's lips. Harry's cheeks flushed. Suddenly a loud sound like thunder broke the atmosphere. "Ah." Marcus grinned, seeing Harry's face dark red. "It seems I've been protested. Come, I'll take you to an unforgettable dinner. But before that, we need an appropriate dress code."
"Just wearing this isn't enough?" Harry looked at Marcus's formal attire in a critical manner. No matter how formal the place they were going to, Marcus' clothes weren't formal enough.
"Hm... more precisely, we need to adjust the costume."
The man pushed him into a room. Which, if you looked closely, it was quite clear that the room belonged to Harry. There was a bed without a canopy in the middle of the room, a soft white carpet and empty bookshelves. But his attention fell on the suit spread out on the bed. The suit consists of a white shirt, cream sweater and matching cardigan. His trousers are dark brown.
Marcus walked across the room and opened a cupboard. He took one on a hanger and threw it on the bed. Harry widened his eyes, when he saw the man start to unbutton him. "Marcus..."
"Hm?" Marcus glanced and frowned. "You didn't change clothes?"
Harry suddenly blushed. "Here?" right now?
Marcus tilted his head, blinking innocently, "I didn't know there was anything stopping you... or do you need help?"
Harry's eyes couldn't leave the stomach on display, to those hard chest... He blinked and shook his head. Without commenting, he grabbed his clothes and ran towards one of the closed doors. Once inside, it turned out he was in the clothes closet. Shelf after shelf is lined with clothes differentiated by color. Each section is further divided into formal, semi-formal and casual. Her jaw dropped when she realized all the clothes were in her size. Harry immediately looked away. Pretend not to see for the sake of his mental health.
When he came out of the clothes closet, Marcus was ready in full formal attire. The typical wizard's clothes were removed, replaced by a suit, complete with a gray and black tartan waistcoat, matching his tie and a formal jacket in a color as dark as night. He wears what is called a 3-piece suit or lounge suit. In contrast to Marcus, Harry's appearance is semi-formal. But rather than being opposites, they actually complement each other.
Marcus took the coat for Harry and opened his arms as a signal for Harry to put it on. Harry glanced at the brand name on his collar. The foreign brand is called Marni Belted. "It's probably a lot colder than we thought, there's no harm in being prepared," he said as he helped Harry put it on. Marcus wore a matching coat in black that matched his suit.
Harry thought they would go the wizard way. But apparently he was wrong! Instead of taking her to the fireplace, Marcus took her to the front door. There waited a black Bantley. Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Marcus in disbelief. "Don't tell me you can ride it!"
The man raised an eyebrow, and opened his door for Harry.
"Marcus!"
"What makes you not believe I can ride it?"
He easily turned it on, as if he had done it hundreds of times.
"Do you even have a driver's license?"
"You doubt me?" The car glided easily over the landau road that cut through the park.
From where he was sitting Harry could see the whole house clearly. The house is in a Victorian Gothic style from the 19th century. It can be seen from the pointed roof and high windows. A model that is often found in upper class areas of Britain. Unfortunately, Harry could only watch it for a moment before the car finally rolled out through the black fence like bars.
"Since when can you drive a car? Since when do you have a car!?" a pureblood driving a car?! The world has really gone crazy.
Marcus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't think you would be that surprised, especially after we once spent dinner in a muggle restaurant. At that time I told you that the Flint family had a big business in the Muggle world, right? I'm not that blind - none of Flint's heirs are as blind as Malfoy or Black with the Muggle world. We were just very careful about it and didn't tell everyone. That's why, they all thought Malfoy was the richest. Nobody expected Flint to be that rich just by renting out land and farming, right? Of course, this is not a black business. Gringotts knows, they help us with trading, stock games, asset sales and many things. Flint controls 2% of the world's economy... for Morgana's sake... no one knows that!" he laughed softly.
Now Harry remembered it, their conversation. However, this was the first time he realized the implications of that conversation. Seeing Flint easily maneuver his vehicle, wearing muggle clothes, acting as if he had long been part of the Muggle upper class... Harry also bet that even Flint's surname would be unusual among the Muggle upper class!
Their car stopped in front of a luxury restaurant called The Ivy Exeter. A Valet was ready to park their car as soon as they got out of it. Marcus easily handed the valet the keys and a few pounds for tips.
The table they had ordered was near the window overlooking the back garden. Some distance from the surrounding tables. There were only a few people sitting around them, enjoying a private dinner. The closest of them was just a young man in a formal suit eating alone. Maybe it's old money who enjoys his free time alone after activities that require a lot of socialization.
Their table was set in a romantic style; there were candles lit, among the silverware. As soon as they sat down, a waiter introduced himself and called another to deliver the previously ordered set. Harry just enjoyed the surprise in front of him without thinking too much. He enjoyed Marcus expanding his culinary horizons. He tries to get rid of the bad feeling whenever he feels lucky or when something makes him happy. Like now, with luxurious food in front of him. He tried not to count how much money Marcus had spent.
After being with the Flint family for a long time, he learned to accept that he deserved all this. That he is not a freak and he deserves to be happy about anything in his life. That living a life of wealth does not mean that he betrays or looks down on those who do not have it. So, he doesn't need to hold back just to try to feel the same as those who are less fortunate. Lady Sharon's words rang in his mind; "You need to embrace yourself as you are, accept it completely, then you can give something to others. Grasp opportunities tightly and gain a lot of strength so that you can easily help the weak." Yes. Eating something luxurious does not mean he spits on a hungry person. With his strength, he can help others. So, Harry picked up his fork and tried to enjoy tonight's reward.
Their food consists of three courses. The waiter explained what they were eating. The first course was cauliflower soup with aged Clawson Stilton long cream cheese, and seeds from the Capparis plant called capers chopped with parsley. After that, comes the main course of slow-braised goose, lamb and beef spread on wide ribbons of pappardelle pasta with sun-dried tomatoes, shaved Parmigiano Reggiano and the Italian variety of flat-leaf parsley. And ends with a cloudy Madagascar vanilla dessert with warm chocolate brownies, complemented by a choice of vanilla ice cream, and Yuzu caramel sauce.
Harry's tongue had never been pampered like this
Harry's tongue had never been pampered like this. He felt like he was tasting heavenly food. It was a bit of a shame that he couldn't finish it all because his stomach wasn't used to this large portion of food. But Marcus wasn't shy about draining Harry's remains. After all, this dinner was shared between just the two of them. No one will comment.
The plates had been taken and only glasses of drinks were in front of them. But when he saw Marcus' expression, Harry felt that this was only the beginning. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the young man leaning back and wearing a serious expression.
"Harry, as I said before. I would like to introduce you to the head of the financial team." A man who had been eating alone nearby stood up and walked over to them. "William Blackstone." The man looked like a typical British posh. With a complete suit, sleek hair and a tall, sturdy stature. Even the accent!
The man shook Marcus' hand, and turned to Harry, "Good evening, Lord Peverell."
"Blackstone?" Harry whispered. He is familiar with the name. None other than the wizarding family who owns a large firm and is an important partner of Gringotts. But unlike the rest of his family, William Blackstone was half-bold because his mother was Muggle-born or a term that is now used again after Harry's article raised the old value of being a first generation Wizard.
"Nice to finally meet you."
The man took several files and put them on the table. "I won't waste much of your time, and most of what's here has passed Heir Marcus' approval." He opened the folders and sheets that were there. "You can read it. If you agree, you can sign it here," he pointed to the blanks.
Harry had gone through training on all of this with Lord Flint. He knows that reading the agreement in detail is something absolute. So, Harry carefully read all of it. Most of the bundles contained Partnership agreements and when Harry didn't understand what they meant, he wasn't shy about asking. It takes a long time to read everything. It wasn't easy, but after signing many signatures, Harry went home with increased wealth.
"Some things here require your presence at certain events. I will let you two know if needed."
Harry nodded. Understand that the consequence of all that wealth is tangling with upper class social society. Luckily he wouldn't be going through all that alone, especially since he was still a minor in Muggle glasses. The man seemed to have everything under control and their conversation opened many doors to understanding finances in the wizarding and Muggle worlds. The man gave him an address to contact him at any time via owl. He wasn't in the wizarding world much, but his house in the Muggle world was secluded enough, so it was safe enough for owls to come in and out of.
Harry understood why Marcus had chosen to introduce him here, at their supposedly private dinner; This was a neutral place, where Blackstone couldn't peek into their private lives and kept the conversation professional. This also made Harry realize he understood Marcus without him having to explain anything. The trust between them flows without a ripple through easily shared understanding. Whether this is due to the bond that arises from understanding Marcus as a human, or because of his relationship as Lord and Knight, or even because of both. But what was clear was that Harry felt the bond, and he was sure Marcus did too.
They spent the rest of the evening walking the streets of London. Enjoy the cool, misty air among the city lights. Always busy here, there is always something interesting to see. They walked along the banks of the Themes river which was decorated with golden lights. The Big Ban Tower stands majestically in the background, its clock hands pointing at eleven o'clock at night. It was well past Harry's curfew. But instead of being sleepy, he found his eyes still sparkling brightly like he had just finished a gallon of caffeine.
Suddenly, Marcus stood in front of Harry, automatically making him stop in his tracks. The man cleared his throat. "Harry," Marcus cupped his hands, "Will you be my partner at the dance on Christmas Eve?"
Harry had of course guessed this would happen since he asked him out to dinner. Even though his poker face could hide something, he could smell Marcus' strange movements from the start. But of course Harry didn't have to show it.
"Oh Marcus..." he smiled broadly. "Of course."
The last week of the semester was very busy. Rumors of a Christmas ball were flying around, although Harry didn't believe half of them. For example, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred tons of firewhiskey from Madam Rosmerta. Nonetheless, it was apparently true that he had booked The Weird Sisters. Exactly what or who these The Weird Sisters were--whose name meant strange sisters--Harry didn't know, because he didn't have access to wizard radio. But from their enthusiasm for diligently listening to WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network Magic Radio Network), they are apparently a very famous music group. Harry remembered that the twins had apparently worn t-shirts with The Weird Sisters logo on them.
Some teachers, like the diminutive Professor Flitwick, gave up, no longer teaching their students, while their minds clearly wandered elsewhere. He let them play around during his lessons on Wednesday, and spent some of his time talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm he had used for the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Other teachers were not as generous. Nothing could divert Professor Binns, for example, from his account of the goblin rebellion--since Binns hadn't let his own death get in the way of continuing to teach, they figured something as small as Christmas wouldn't bother him. It was surprising how he could make even a bloody and horrific riot over goblins sound as boring as Percy's cauldron bottom report.
The Hogwarts staff, wanting to make a good impression on the guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, were apparently determined to show the castle at its best on Christmas Day. When the decorations were installed, Harry realized it was the most stunning decoration he had ever seen in his time at this school. Strands of frozen water droplets are attached to the alabaster stair ledge. The twelve Christmas Trees that are usually installed in the Great Hall are filled with various decorations, from burning holly berries, to live golden owls that buzz, and all the suits of armor have been enchanted to sing Christmas carols whenever a child passes by. It's also fun to hear Oh Come, All Ye Faithful sung by an empty helmet that only half memorized the lyrics. Time and time again, Filch the school keeper has to get Peeves out of the suits of armor, where he hides, filling in the gaps in the song's words with lyrics of his own making, all of which are very cheeky.
There was a commotion when Victor Krum bent one leg to ask Draco Malfoy to be his dancing partner. This seems to give male students a green card to invite other male students. And suddenly Harry became something that was quite up for grabs as long as no one had succeeded in asking him. In one day he had rejected about twenty boys and girls. The fighting field has now become fair between boys and girls, and it seems that this has also made the girls more violent. But of course they were all disappointed after finding out that Marcus had invited them first.
"It seems like they were all hoping Marcus wouldn't ask you because he's on staff," Draco commented. Behind him, stood a tall young man with a serious expression who looked around as if he was trying to swat away any mosquitoes that dared to approach Draco--as if he himself wasn't a famous Quidditch player who was also covered in mosquitoes.
"There seems to be no prohibition on who the partner invites. Even though orthodoxly everyone thinks the dance partner is the opposite sex."
"Doesn't that mean you need more dance practice to master the girl part?"
Harry froze. Then stubbornly said, "Who said I got the woman's share."
"You think Marcus will?"
The two children were pensive. Amused to imagine if that happened. "Oh, well..." Harry sighed, "I'm going to practice..." he grumbled as he dragged his bag away with slumped shoulders.
Draco watched him go, giggling, until suddenly a voice behind him said, "You didn't practice yourself?" Draco froze with a pale face. Victor secretly smiled. Then pulled Draco close, and shifted them to an empty classroom.
"Vi-Victor?"
"Let's practice," he whispered in Draco's flushed ear.
________________________________________
During the excitement before the ball, Harry often hid himself in the corridors of Avalon. Every now and then his friends would come to see him for a while. Most often it was Hermione. When he asked who he was inviting, the girl didn't want to answer. Harry thought the girl hadn't decided yet because her future vision was still changing. Until finally, the night before Christmas his vision was fixated on the person walking beside Hermione. Harry sighed sadly. It seems that not everyone gets their dream dance. But he was grateful that Hermione's partner wasn't the worst he could have chosen. In fact... he thought it was very interesting. Does he see the possibility of the future shifting? Who knows. Harry shrugged his shoulders.
The doors to the Great Hall were opened wide. The entire population of Hogwarts was already there, waiting for the arrival of the four tournament participants with their partners. One by one, they went down and were greeted by their partners, Fleur and her partner first, followed by Cedric Diggory and Cho Cang. Then Harry stepped down, under the stairs, Marcus stretched out his hand and welcomed Harry. The man was wearing his best formal attire with a sword at his waist. His robe bears the symbol of the Knight Merlin in blood red with black accents which shows his connection to Avalon. Harry's outfit also complements his costume, being a simpler style, without a cape. Dark red, just like Marcus. Shows that they are a couple. A coin whose sides complement each other. "You are very beautiful tonight, dear Hadrian..." he whispered as he kissed Harry's flushed cheek. The man took him into line.
"Thanks, Marcus. You too... look very dashing," he cleared his throat to hide his nervousness. It wasn't in his nature to say things like that. Harry looked back at Draco who was bright red next to Victor Krum. Then he whispered to Marcus, "Looks like there's a new couple tonight."
"Hm... I'm sure this will make Lord Malfoy happy. Being able to compete with a family like Krum."
Harry chuckled, "But not the Parkingsons. I heard he was trying to tie Draco into an engagement."
Marcus snorted, "Parkingson? Not surprising. I heard Pansy Parkingson has feelings for Draco."
Applause thundered as they entered the hall one by one. Harry looked around the hall. Hagrid sat at one of the other teachers' desks. He put his shaggy brown coat back on and stared at the head table. Harry saw Hagrid wave slightly, then saw Madame Maxime wave back, her opals glinting in the candlelight. Ron stood beside Padma Patil, looking as if he had taken a bitter pill. Then, Harry's eyes fell on Hermione who was smiling while waving at him, and the man next to her; Hacan Tremere smiled broadly, his sharp fangs clearly visible. Hacan threw Harry a wink. One arm was around Hermione's waist. They looked ready to dance at any time.
Then, with a wave of her wand, all the tables slid in a row along the wall leaving the floor empty, then she conjured a stage in front of the wall on the right. The lights and candles dimmed, leaving only sparkling crystal chandeliers above them. As soon as the sound of classical music played, Marcus grabbed her arm and spun her into the middle of the dance floor. Absolutely no restraint, bringing him to the center of attention. Marcus stood two steps in front of him. Lower your body while blinking your eyes. Harry rolled his eyes and returned the gesture. As soon as the tone reached a certain point, Harry grabbed Marcus's shoulder, at the same time Marcus' arm slipped into his upper back. They grabbed each other and started swinging. Marcus takes him for a spin before catching him.
He saw Draco dancing next to him, his attention completely on Victor, and vice versa. In fact, as Harry noticed, they weren't paying attention to the music or their movements at all. The two danced closely, sharing their private conversation in an intimate dance. Draco was no longer as red as a boiled prawn, but his eyes were sparkling with happiness. He looks very handsome and full of enthusiasm. Marcus pulled him in a tight swing, returning his focus to the dashing man in front of him. Halfway through the dance, everyone started following them; filled the ballroom in beautiful dance. As soon as the classical music stopped, Harry and Marcus broke free and ducked towards each other.
That's when the real excitement of the Christmas celebration begins. Professor Filius Flitwick introduced their main guest for the evening. The Weird Sisters! The band was very famous in the wizarding world. His songs always fill Magic Radio. So, it didn't take long until all the students filled the hall to dance to the beat of rock music. He saw Hermione dancing crazily with Hacan, who with his Vampire powers, easily lifted and spun Hermione in the air. Even Professor Prince joined in to enjoy the music on the high chairs provided for the teachers. Of course with his usual flat expression. The only difference is that his feet are stomping according to the rhythm. Harry smiled broadly, not holding back his laughter. He hopes everything stays like this. Full of happiness, joy and sparkling festivities. But unfortunately, reality is not as beautiful as we would like.
________________________________________
On the day when the second match will be held. Marcus was reading a book alone in his room. He intended to meet Harry at breakfast. His duties as an apprentice mean he has a lot of time to prepare the classes he is responsible for. That was the reason why he wasn't with Harry at the moment. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Without suspecting anything, he opened the door, as the magic shot almost hit him. Marcus swiftly jumped out of the way. The attacks continued to appear continuously, and with each attack Marcus was able to repel them. It didn't take long for him to realize that his attacker had no intention of killing. All the spells that shot to attack him were only spells that were disarming or made him sleep and faint. Not some kind of forbidden or painful spell. But that didn't make Marcus relax his defense. He was well aware of what this attack meant.
"Even though I respect you, ma'am! I won't let you disarm me!" he shouted at the figure in the corridor. As soon as they realized that Marcus had the upper hand in this fight, suddenly a familiar voice called out, "Wait a minute!" the magic attack stopped. "Marcus!"
Marcus lowered his wand.
Professor Bathsheda Babbling smiled shyly. "I didn't mean to scare you. It's just for the sake of the tournament. We need you to be something valuable to Harry Potter..." the woman ran a hand through her hair. Then, an angry sniff. "I knew something like this would happen. We should have had a good talk with you... I'm sorry, kid. To be honest, I didn't like getting this job. But Dumbledore insisted..." he said, looking embarrassed. "So, how about it, Marcus? You're ready, right?"
Marcus sighed.
......
Gray clouds almost always adorn the sky today. The reflection makes the surface of the calm lake even darker and grayer like its name. Harry looked that way. There were towers and seats in temporary podiums like during Quidditch matches. But the difference is, all of them stand facing the lake where the second match took place. The Weasley twins were carrying wooden boxes to collect betting money, while the rest of their friends were sitting in the audience - or at least that was what he thought. He hadn't seen anyone since this morning, not Hermione, Marcus or Draco. It made his lips thin. He should have known who was down there. And he was sure it wasn't Marcus. But it's not the first time his vision has changed. This is usually related to fate that cannot be prevented.
Neville walked beside him. His height now surpassed Harry's. He was the only person who seemed to be there to accompany her now. The young man handed Gillyweed over. "Good luck, Harry..."
"Thanks Neville..." he turned back to the lake. Looking at him seriously, "It seems I need all the good fortune this time," he whispered.
Dumbledore began his speech: "Last night, something was taken from the four participants. Something very valuable to them. These four valuable things, one from each participant. Now they are at the bottom of the Black Lake. In order to be a winner, each participant must find the valuable thing and return to the surface. It's quite simple, but there's a catch: they only have one hour!"
Barty Jr, in disguise, helped Harry take off his clothes and accompanied Harry to the end of the pier. He told him to immediately put the Gillyweed into his mouth.
Dumbledore's voice was still booming: "After that they will fight alone. No magic can save them. You may start when the cannon sounds." As soon as Dumbledore finished his sentence, the careless Cannon Guard suddenly fired it. The participants were not given time to take a breath. They all threw themselves hastily into the lake. The icy water of January immediately enveloped him. Harry waved his hands to charm himself warm. He was lucky to have mastered magic without having to cast spells and his magic control was much better without a wand.
Silence pressed against his ears as he drifted through the strange, dark and foggy landscape. He could only see three meters in front of him, so as he glided through the water, new sights seemed to emerge before him from the darkness. A tangled and rippling forest of black algae, a stretch of mud dotted with, scattered gloomy glistening rocks.
Harry swam further in, towards the center of the lake, his eyes wide open, looking through the gray-lit water around him to the gloom below, to where the water was an impenetrable blur. Small fish flickered past him like silver needles. Once or twice he thought he saw something larger moving in front of him, but when he got closer, it turned out to be just a large blackened log, or a thick mass of algae. There was no sign of the other three champions, the mermaid or, thankfully, the giant squid.
Light green algae stretched out in front of him as far as the eye could see, sixty inches deep, like a field of overgrown grass. Harry stared unblinkingly ahead, trying to make out shapes in the dimness... and then, without warning, something grabbed him by the ankle. Harry turned his body and saw Grindylow, a small, horned water demon, emerge from the algae, his long fingers gripping Harry's leg tightly, his mouth grinning showing off his sharp fangs. But before he could cast any spells, the Grindylows' expressions changed. They screeched in fear and swam in all directions to avoid Harry. Likewise when he faced the mermaids. As soon as they saw Harry their expressions changed in fear and they screeched baring their sharp yellow teeth and swam away. It was then that Harry realized that the locket around his neck was glowing. The pendant is a glass tube containing drops of Seth Ravnos' blood. The vampire prince. Her memory replayed Hacan's words when the man gave her this pendant: "Vampire blood, Seth's to be precise. If you carry this, all magical creatures will know you are under the protection of the Vampire prince."
Harry finds the four people taken floating tied in a static sleep in the middle of the lake. The four people are; Draco, Hermione, Cho Cang and Gabriella Delacour. Harry could already guess who was which participant. But he's sure Monsieur finds this match unpleasant—especially after nearly losing Gabriella in Vella's kidnapping. With his eyesight, he knew that Fleur would not make it in time. Even though Harry knew that Gabriella would be fine, Fleur didn't know that. Just think of this action as an attempt to maintain good relations with the Delacour family. That's why, he cast magic that would untie the ropes binding Hermione and Gabriella's feet. At the same time he was trying to free his two friends, Victor Krum launched himself and took Draco.
The merpeople, once they realized that Harry was trying to free two people, thrust the tip of their spear into Harry's neck, "ONLY ONE!!" but Harry easily repelled it with magic.
Harry broke his magic, and with the intention of making his voice heard, he said; Not in my land! His cry gave birth to Merlin's magic which spread to cover his body in golden light. Harry spread his arms and pushed his two friends hard out of the lake. Right at the same time as the alarm sounding time was up, Harry appeared with Hermione and Garbiella. As soon as they appeared on the surface, the two children took a breath and opened their eyes. The cheers sounded like thunder, filling the entire arena. Harry was pulled onto the dock. And the officer immediately gave him a towel.
"Gabriella!" Fleur jumped to hug her sister, crying in relief. Then he grabbed Harry's arm, "Harry. You saved him even though it wasn't your job. My little brother. Thank you," he said as he grabbed Harry's head and kissed both cheeks. He could taste the saltiness of Fleur's tears.
"Whenever Fleur. Gabriella is also an important person to me."
"Oh, Harry. I hope you will visit France again. We will welcome you and Marcus, of course."
Harry nodded with a smile. Then, his gaze fell on Barty in her disguise. Shuffling over to Harry. Instantly his smile disappeared. He pulled Barty's arm, whispered in her ear. "Where's Marcus!"
Barty's expression was unreadable, her fake eyes darting around uncontrollably. But the sentence was clear and terrible, "The Dark Lord got it, my Lord."
Harry paled and suddenly his mind was taken back to his previous visions. Where Marcus lay with a pale face and open eyes. Frozen in time.
Harry got up. "No..." he whispered. "I won't let it happen." He looked towards the sky. "I won't let you have it," he whispered to lady fate. "He is mine." The νέκυια rune on his shoulder heated up. Harry hurried to leave the arena. Barty followed not far behind. Not paying attention to the confused looks from everyone or the calls of his name. His focus was completely on the two Vampires who were waiting for him at the end of the pier. Their smiles disappeared when they saw Harry's expression.
"Ada apa?"
"I need that thing. Now."
They end up in the corridors of Avalon. The two Vampires looked suspiciously at Barty who was busy scanning the room. "Barty," Harry called a different name making both Vampires raise their eyebrows. The man immediately focused and stood on Harry's right side.
"My Lord?"
"Barty Jr in disguise, meet Hacan of the Tremere clan and Seth Ravnos, Prince of Night Sword."
"Merry Meet..." whispered Barty who was also answered in the same way.
"Now, I want to discuss the matter of Marcus' disappearance. Barty has information that the Dark Lord managed to get to Marcus somehow."
"And the only way to meet the Dark Lord is to win the third test. The cup at the end of the test is also a Potkey," explained Barty. "Forgive me, my Lord. I was unaware of this plan until Quireell made her move."
Harry nodded, but didn't comment further on the matter. He is more focused on the solutions that must be implemented. "Therefore, I need that item, Prince Seth," Harry whispered in formal terms, showing the urgency of this matter.
"I don't mind that. It's just that I wonder what this dark thing has to do with Marcus?"
Harry swallowed hard as he closed his eyes. When he opened it there was deep sadness and burning determination. "I've seen many possible futures, my friend. There are so many paths and choices. But somehow, where we stand now faces the wrong intersection. The worst possible route. I can't let that happen. Not if Marcus' life is at stake. "
Hacan took a breath of disbelief, "You intend to stop his death..." As he said that, the man took a wooden box from his suitcase. Barty looked interested. His eyes followed sharply the wooden box that was now placed on the table.
"That's just a theory..." whispered Seth in disbelief.
"That might just be a theory if the person who did it was a normal wizard. But I'm a Necromancer," Harry whispered as he touched his shoulder. "I can feel the buzz of that thing's energy even from where I'm standing here..."
Hacan opened the box, "Lapis Vivus Mortem-Living Death Stone... comes from meteor fragments that fell into the darkest part of the earth, where Dementors were born... a stone that can trap souls as long as the conditions are met... first, the ritual is carried out a second after the person dies, when the body is still warm and the blood has not stopped flowing. And the person who does it must be a strong Necromencer and willing to exchange his soul for Death."
Harry cupped the stone, it glowed in his palm and felt cold. "And I meet all of those requirements."
"You have to sell your soul."
"I would sell my soul to Lucifer if I had to," Harry whispered. Harry glanced at a corner of the room, where two boys stood arm in arm staring at him; green and silver eyes sparkled brightly. One of them whispered, "Mommy..."
A FEW HOURS BEFORE
Marcus was reading a book when suddenly there was a knock on the door. Without suspecting anything, he opened the door, as the magic shot almost hit him. Marcus swiftly jumped out of the way. The attacks continued to appear continuously, and with each attack Marcus was able to repel them. It didn't take long for him to realize that his attacker had no intention of killing. All the spells that shot to attack him were only spells that were disarming or made him sleep and faint. Not some kind of forbidden or painful spell. But that didn't make Marcus relax his defense. He was well aware of what this attack meant.
"Even though I respect you, ma'am! I won't let you disarm me!" he shouted at the figure in the corridor. As soon as they realized that Marcus had the upper hand in this fight, suddenly a familiar voice called out, "Wait a minute!" the magic attack stopped. "Marcus!"
Marcus lowered his wand.
Professor Bathsheda Babbling smiled shyly. "I didn't mean to scare you. This is just for the sake of the tournament. We need you to be something valuable to Harry Potter..." the woman ran a hand through her hair. Then, an angry sniff. "I knew something like this would happen. I should have had a nice talk with you... I'm sorry, kid. To be honest, I didn't like getting this job. But Dumbledore insisted..." he said, looking embarrassed. "So, how about it, Marcus? You're ready, right?"
Marcus sighed. "Respectfully, ma'am... but I must decline. Harry's protection is the only priority-" before he finished speaking, a red light suddenly shot from between the doors, passed Bathsheda Babbling and hit Marcus hard. He fell to the floor hard and before he could do anything, Professor Bathsheda said a quick practice sentence that immediately made Marcus' whole body freeze.
After a few moments, a soft laugh was heard from behind the door. Barty Crouch sr stepped into the room. His expression was cold as he looked at Marcus' body lying on the floor. To the woman next to him, he handed a bottle of potion. "You'd better drink the antidote immediately. We don't want anyone to see you wearing Bathsheda Babbling's face."
The woman snorted, but accepted the bottle and downed it in one gulp. Instantly his profile and body changed to that of a man with a familiar face from the Ministry of Magic entourage. "Like you're not parading around with a fake face either Quireell..."
Barty Sr. just smiled crookedly and lifted Marcus' body. In his hand a Potkey was ready to be activated. This may be impossible on normal days. But, because there is currently a Triwizard Tournament here, no matter how strong the security is, there will always be holes in that security. Especially the problem of long-distance transportation that can penetrate countries like Potkey. With special permission granted to people trusted by the Ministry, he had the ability to twist a bit of defensive magic at Hogwarts. Especially with the Wards getting weaker here due to Dumbledore's White politics. Oh, well... he wouldn't complain about that because it benefited him.
Quireell whispered the code, "Nagini," and activated the Potkey, taking the treasure and leaving Hogwarts.
Chapter 20
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
As soon as he found out the dark lord had taken his most precious possession, Harry felt anger at the center of his soul. At the center of his magic. Like a ball of energy spinning inside him, ready to explode at any time and destroy everything. it felt painfully cold, like it was piercing his soul. His anger was restrained only because of total self-control. Harry had never felt anger like this, so focused like the tip of a cold iron blade ready to pierce Voldemort's heart. Anger that makes his mind clear and his logic sharp. Focus on just one thing; Marcus.
The first person Harry told was Professor Prince and from there the man contacted Lord Gideon Flint. Gideon came to use the fireplace in Professor Prince's office. The first thing the man did as soon as he came out of the fireplace was hug Harry tightly. Harry buried himself in the embrace, taking a few seconds to drown in his sadness.
In that room, the three Vampires, Lord Gideon and Professor Prince gathered. Harry decides to keep Barty's identity from Professor Prince because their relationship is too complicated to explain. After all, it is Barty's right to reveal her true identity.
“No one must know about Marcus' disappearance,” Gideon said after they finished explaining the situation. This sentence of course invited many questions and protests. But the man just shook his head with a serious and controlled expression. “What are we going to report to the Aurors? That Voldemort took Marcus? No one will believe it. Moreover, I wish to keep this matter out of Dumbledore's ear.”
Prince replied, "Are you afraid that Dumbledore will use this to get close to Harry?"
"And involved himself with Harry, drawing him into manipulations that would make him just a tool to destroy Voldemort..."
“If so, what should we do? The Dark Lord has succeeded in creating a situation where Harry has little choice when dealing with the Dark Lord.”
"Yes. The Dark Lord creating a situation like this must also have a purpose. Why Marcus? If they succeeded in disarming him why not kill him? Why kidnap him? There's only one reason. Marcus is still useful and from there we can bet his life is safe until the Dark Lord's goal is achieved.”
Master Alexander nodded. “Quite reasonable.”
“What is the Dark Lord's purpose?” Harry whispered.
“Especially if it is not for negotiation purposes. There's a reason why your spy said you had to get the Triwizard cup before the other tributes. That is a potkey and it will take you to where Marcus is.”
"We're not sending Harry there!" Professor Prince snapped.
"I will go!" Harry exclaimed. “I'll get Marcus back!”
“Harry!”
Gideon cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention back to him even though the tension in the room didn't lessen. “Everyone knows how stubborn Harry is. No one will be able to stop it even if we all hold it. It was only a matter of time until he would find a way to escape. Rather than getting us all into a situation where Harry has nothing to prepare for other than recklessness, I suggest letting it slide.” There were calls of protest. But the man continued calmly, “Besides, I'm worried about Marcus' fate if it's not Harry who emerges from his Potkey. But, of course we will not send it empty-handed.”
The man grabbed the scrap of parchment on the table. “Harry's spies have written down the coordinates of where the potkey will fall. At that time we moved towards the same coordinate point. Upon arrival at the location, we will secretly observe the situation and will only take action once the situation becomes critical. We can turn these events in our favor by infiltrating the Dark Lord's inner circle. Who knew Voldemort was the type of villain who liked prologues. So, we can get something from his boasts.”
Hacan nodded. "So, now it's just a matter of figuring out how to keep the secret that Marcus was kidnapped?"
“Ah,” Gideon nodded as he said, “Dipsy.”
A house elf suddenly appeared. “Lord Gideon summoned Dipsy?”
“Please get me the Polyjuise potion with the Marcus label in the potion box.”
“Polyjuise?!” Prince exclaimed while looking at Gideon as if he was crazy. “You have a supply of Polyjuise for Marcus?”
Gideon shrugged as he accepted the bottle from Dipsy. “And everyone in the family. There is no harm in being prepared for emergencies. Who knows when we'll need a fake face,” then to everyone in the room, in Flint's characteristic calm, even tone, the man asked, “So, who's volunteering?” while shaking the potion bottle.
In the end Hacan was chosen. This is because fewer people question the disappearance of a Vampire. Unfortunately, the Polyjuice potion has one weakness. He couldn't imitate the magic ring in Marcus's eyes—the magic ring that marked Marcus as a knight, Merlin. The potion is purely to imitate a person's physique, but not their magic. The impersonated person's magic will not simply transfer to the person who drinks it; If that's the case, there must be a lot of people who create these potions to make their magic stronger. Fortunately, this weakness can be overcome with glamour ; illusion magic. With a flick of his wand, Hacan's eyes were manipulated with illusions.
Thus comes the moment where Hacan parades as Marcus Flint in the corridors, taking over all of Marcus's classes and teaching the first years with a horrifyingly fake charisma. During that time, Harry closed himself off from the outside world. Luckily they were in the middle of the Tournament. So, no one questioned where he disappeared to. They assumed he was training within the corridors of Avalon to prepare for the third tournament. Of course, that's somewhat true. Harry was training desperately against vampires, Professor Prince and sometimes Lord Gideon. But not to face the Third Tournament. Harry prepares himself to fight against Voldemort.
That was why, it was no longer a strange sight when Harry stood with his body soaked in his own blood in the middle of the wizarding arena. In front of him could be anyone, and during that time, his gaze would not leave his enemy. Harry took himself to the extreme point of pain, so he was used to whatever he might encounter. Harry faced his training brutally, like a mad bull that lunged at anyone in front of him. His face was permanently frozen. No expression at all. The pain he felt or the joy of successfully mastering a form of magic were completely meaningless. Since he lost Marcus, Harry stopped smiling. His gaze became very cold, his words were always short and there was gloom that replaced the laughing lines on his face. Luckily he didn't have to show himself until the Third Tournament started.
At the same time, Barty Crouch Senior's body was discovered by a group of students who were taking a Wildlife Care class in a forbidden forest. It was left alone once Quirrell didn't need his disguise. The sound of the schoolgirl's screams shrilled through the forest, sending startled crows flying towards the sky in terrifying cackles. One of them shot straight through the window of Hogwarts castle. A bad sign, according to fortune tellers.
The next morning, photos of Barty Crouch Senior's body made the front pages of the newspapers. The reporters managed to get ahead of the Aurors because they were ready with their cameras for coverage of the Triwizart Tournament. The appearance in the photos is very familiar.
In the thick darkness of the forbidden forest, a figure lay face down on the wet ground. It couldn't be distinguished whether his clothes or skin were torn; merges with damp and cold soil. A crow hovered low and perched on his shoulder. Its beady black eyes moved watchfully, and its sharp beak suddenly pecked,
Peck and peck!
Harry looked away from the page of the newspaper. His body seemed to be drenched in cold water, as if Death was visiting him.
Since the news of the death, there have been rumors that the Triwizart Tournament will be discontinued. Maybe that was a topic of discussion among members of the Ministry, but because of the magically binding nature of this Tournament, like it or not, the match couldn't be stopped. So, it was time for the third tournament. In a maze created for this match, a spectator stand was created on one side. The three schools took their place with cheers, flags and the sound of music. But to Harry's ears, it all sounded like the melody of death leading him into the grave.
The three participants stand side by side facing the maze. Harry looked at him with a grim expression, knowing full well what was on the other end. He listened to Dumbledore's voice giving instructions with only one ear, "Earlier this morning, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Tournament Cup deep within this labyrinthine garden. Only he knows the exact location. Because Mr Diggory and Mr. Potter had the same value, they were the first to enter this maze garden, followed by mr. Krum, then by Ms. Delacour.” Voices of support rang out, especially Krum, whose supporters were many men with deep and loud voices. "The first person to touch the cup wins!” roars and applause showered the sentence.
The old man paused, then in a much calmer tone, he continued, “I have instructed the staff to carry out a mobile patrol. If a participant wants to withdraw, he must throw fireworks with his magic wand. Participants, gather! Fast!"
They all formed a circle around Dumbledore. “In that labyrinth, there are no dragons, no underwater creatures, but you will face something more challenging. You know, people change their characters in that labyrinth. Oh, find that trophy if you can. But be careful, you might get lost.”
Dumbeldore invited them to stand in front of the four entrances to the labyrinth. The three other participants were accompanied by representatives of their respective schools. Except for Cedric who was accompanied by his father. “Participants, prepare yourselves!” Harry stood next to Barty jr. They nodded to each other. “On the count of three. One…” gunshots were heard. The participants entered the dark hallway slowly accompanied by music.
Harry sped off without hesitation. As darkness surrounded him, all sound and light vanishing from his senses, Harry closed his eyes, concentrating. He wasn't stupid enough to turn on a light that could reveal his location to the other participants. Harry jumped when he heard Fleur scream in the distance. Soon the sound of fireworks was heard. He moved towards the sound. Hoping to find participants from Beauxbatons. But, before he could find him, Harry ran into Victor Krum.
Harry acted quickly, waving his hand and without a sound the young man fell to his knees. Harry took Victor's wand and raised it towards the sky, sending off fireworks that filled the sky with a loud bang, marking where he lay. Then, he threw the stick back at its owner's body. With his index finger pointed at Victor's body, he whispered, " Tutelam praebere, sine quoquam ei nocere possit... tutelam praebere, sine quoquam ei nocere possit— give him protection, without anyone hurting him."
After making sure that no dangerous creatures would find Victor here, Harry stepped back. According to his estimates, currently it was just him and Cedric. Time and time again he ran into dead ends again, but the deepening darkness made him feel certain he was getting closer to the center of the maze. Then, as he walked down the long, straight path, he saw movement again, and the light of his ring hit an extraordinary creature, a creature he had only ever seen a picture of, in the Monster Book of Monsters.
The creature is a sphinx. Its body was that of an extra-large lion; with sharp-nailed claws and a large yellowish tail that ends in a tuft of brown hair. But the head is a woman's head. He fixed his long fruit-shaped eyes on Harry, as Harry drew closer. Harry raised his hand, hesitantly. The sphinx did not make any movements like it was ready to pounce, but instead walked from side to side, blocking Harry's path. Then he spoke, in a deep, husky voice.
"You are very close to your target. The quickest way is through me."
Harry smiled wryly, "So, do you want to pull over?" he could already guess the answer.
"No," he answered, still pacing. "Not unless you can answer my riddle. The answer is an English word. If you get the first guess—I'll let you pass. If you get the answer wrong—I'll attack you. Stay there—I'll let you leave me unharmed."
Harry sighed. "I don't have time for this," then with a deft move, Harry launched a harmless spell attack, but was able to subdue the monster. In fact, magical creatures are usually immune to a certain level of magic. So, Harry completely forgot about the first year spell. It didn't take long until each of the creature's legs bound and its head hit the ground. The head was stuck immovably there. "I swear to the wildlife care officers who will release you soon," Harry whispered as he stepped over the creature, ignoring the screams and howls accompanied by threats.
Harry slowed his steps as he entered a hallway. He could see the light glowing brightly on the cup placed not far in front of him. Facing the four labyrinth exits. At the same time, from one of them, Cedric Digory came out.
Harry looked at Cedric.
“Harry?”
"Just the two of us," he whispered. "Forgive me. I can't let you win.”
Cedric pointed his wand at Harry, his face looking confused and frightened. He noticed there was no wand in his hand. Harry Potter never carried a wand. Why am I only realizing it now, thought Cedric. He wondered, how was Harry controlling his magic so far? Is there any truth to the rumors that he can control it without a wand? So, is it true that the news in the mass media that Harry Potter is the strongest wizard of his generation? Can stand side by side with Dumbledore and Voldemort, and only lose because of experience alone.
Cedric swallowed hard, “I know. After all, this is a tournament. There cannot be more than one winner.”
Harry shook his head, walking closer. “You could have been the winner, I would have given it to you without much thought… if only we didn't have to touch the cup.”
"What do you mean?" Seeing Harry not holding a wand, Cedric lowered his guard a little. Making it not just attack Harry. After all it wasn't in a Hufflepuff's nature to hurt his schoolmates.
Harry sighed. “That cup is a potkey.”
Cedric looked at him confused. Of course it's the potkey that will lead them out of this maze. "So?"
"A potkey that instead of bringing those who touch it back, brings them back to the dark lord."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean. That all of this is a trap. All these matches, all these crazy tests, all for one purpose, to lead me to the dark lord.”
“What you are talking about is impossible. The dark lord has long disappeared.”
“Ah… you don't believe me?”
“You're just rambling Harry. Stalling my time waiting for me to let my guard down.”
Harry sighed. “Actually, I don't want to do this. "But we don't have much time," said Harry as he raised his hand, but before he could cast a spell, something behind him made him turn his head.
The wind howled even stronger from the other end of the corridor. Brushing away the dry leaves made their clothes flap. The wind was unusual, because it delivered air that was so cold it was like standing in front of a freezer. Slowly with each breath they took smoke in the air. At the end of the hall, there was the sound of claws clashing.
"What's that?" Cedric whispered in horror. He felt like hugging himself and running away from this place as quickly as possible. Whatever was back there was giving him dangerous signals.
“Dementor.”
“Dementor?!”
"Sent specifically to guide me to this place, as well as eliminate those who stand in my way," Harry cupped his hands in front of his mouth as he whispered, "Expecto Patronum," a silver light shot out of Harry's hands and formed the figure of an animal like a horse. But unlike horses or unicorns, these animals have bat-like wings. Making it look haunted standing in front of them. It was as if the white light that made up his form didn't lessen the horror of his existence.
"Thestral..." Cedric whispered. The Patronus jumped and hit the dark creature that was flying towards them. He spread his wings to protect Harry.
“Now do you understand the danger ahead? "The Dementors couldn't have been sent by the Ministry."
“If that was true, and you knew it, why didn't you report it to Dumbledore! It's very dangerous to come there alone!”
"Move Cedric."
“Harry!”
“If you try to touch him, I will attack you. I don't want to do that.”
"This is crazy," Cedric snapped, but the young man stepped away from the goblet. “You are still fifteen!”
“My Partonus will guide you to the exit. When Dumbledore asks where I am, you just tell him what I said. Goodbye, Cedric. "Sorry for ruining your winning night," after that Harry touched his trophy and in an instant he was taken into a heady vortex towards the coordinates that Barty jr had created.
Harry fell to the ground hard, immediately rolled away from the point of fall and hid behind the grave of Tom Marvolo sr. In the middle of the dark abandoned grave with tall grass was a standing stove. The silhouette of the small church appears behind the large pine tree to the right. To the left you can see a towering hill. Harry vaguely saw the silhouette of a beautiful old house on the side of the hill.
There is not the slightest sound in these hills. There were no sounds of wind or even night animals. It was as if all creatures were aware that this place was cursed. However, Harry's attention was completely on Marcus who was bound unconscious in the arms of the winged angel statue that stood in the middle of the grave.
“Harry… Potter…. Ah…. or should I call you Hadrian Peverell?” Quirrell's familiar voice sounded as the man stepped closer from a wooden hut not far away. He cradled the bundle like an old-faced baby that Harry believed was what was left of Voldemort. The fire in the stove is burning, boiling the water. Voldemort was in the form of a hunched child, but to Harry the figure did not look like a human child. He was hairless, but had scaly, reddish-black skin like raw meat. His arms and legs were thin and weak, and his face was like no other child's had—flat and snakelike, with sparkling red eyes. The creature seemed almost helpless. He stretched out his thin arms, wrapped them around Quirrell's neck who lifted him up and stood near the lip of the cauldron, between Harry and Marcus.
“I know you are there. You better get out or I'll do something to your girlfriend. By the way, it's really sad, a Merlin Knight was easily defeated. But, of course, who would expect someone to attack you with the face of someone you respect in a place you consider the safest. Anyone would let down their guard! How clever, how clever.”
Harry slowly came out of hiding. “Let go of Marcus. If you want me, you've got me. Marcus had nothing to do with any of this.”
The bundle in Quirrell's arms shifted restlessly. Harry looked at him, and his scar stung with pain... He heard a thud in his leg. He looked down and saw a large snake slithering in the grass, surrounding where he was standing.
The man knelt down. “You don't know, Harry. As long as you consider Marcus important, then he is also important to the dark lord. Come here. Closer. closer." As soon as he was within reach, Quirrell conjured the tendrils of plants growing from the barren earth to entangle Harry. Making him unable to move because the ties are very strong.
Harry could see the potion in the cauldron lit by sparks dancing across its surface. Then Quirrell lowered the creature into the cauldron. There was a hiss and the creature disappeared beneath the surface. Harry heard his weak body fall to the bottom of the cauldron with a faint thud .
"The bones of the father, given without knowing, you will give life to your son!" The surface of the tomb at Harry's feet opened up. Horrified, Harry watched as fine specks of dust flew upward at Wormtail's command and fell gently into the cauldron. Its surface was like a sizzling liquid diamond, sending sparks flying in all directions, and turning into a poisonous-looking blue liquid. And now Quirrell was wailing. He pulled a long, thin, sparkling silver dagger from within his coat. He whispered. “The flesh of… the servant… is—given willingly… you will… revive… your master.” Before Harry realized what he meant, the man had cut off his own hand with one clean slash followed by a howl of pain. His severed hand fell into the cauldron, and as quickly as possible he enchanted his hand so that he wouldn't bleed out. Harry knew that the dark magic used in this ritual would not allow the hand to return to its original state, unlike wounds obtained by normal means.
""E-enemy blood... taken voluntarily," the man handed Harry the knife. When Harry didn't take it, the man pointed his wand at Marcus. "Please," he whispered as he held out the hilt of the knife to Harry.
Harry touched the silver knife. Dark magic buzzed between them like a close friend. He scraped the object across his palm, dropping the blood into the cauldron. "What a stupid thing to do," Harry whispered. “Perhaps this will restore your body, Tom… but do you know the nature of my blood? I'm Peverell. Where do you hide from death. I welcome Death.”
A loud scream echoed loudly from inside the cauldron. A loud explosion caused the cauldron to spew out its magic. At the same time, Hacan shot to free Harry and took him out of the blast zone.
Quirrell wasn't so lucky. His entire body was covered in concoction vomit and began to melt like a candle with a howl of pain. From amidst the broken pieces of the cauldron and the potion, Voldemort emerged. His body was tall, taller than Dumbledore with the lithe muscles of a fighter. There was not a single hair on his body, but his nose, ears and eyes were complete. Those red eyes stared at Harry. "What are you doing. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!" Black magic surged around him with immense power. The effects of the black magic clashing within him.
“In your blood, there is my blood, cousin. There was magic in the family, the oldest magic, the most powerful; where you will not be able to harm the Lord in your family.”
“I AM LORD SLYTHERIN!”
"Are you sure? Then, why does the ring of lordship not bow to you? You don't know, right? That even the lord 's ring from Slytherin still survives, stored in the oldest Vault at Gringotts. They didn't tell you, those Goblins, because they knew you had no right to have one because you were just a Slytherin. The Gaunt family is not the last Slytherin, nor is it the first generation of children. The first child of the Slytherin family, to produce offspring from a Gryffindor, was Peverell. Who then changed his name to protect his family… to Potter! Throwing away the name of the highest noble of the noble and most Ancient House, becoming just the lord of the Noble House of Potter! I'm Lord Slytherin! I'm Lord Peverell! I hereby remove the name Slytherin from your magic, removing your rights as heir. You're just a Slytherin in name and blood! So mote it be! ”
"AKHH," the ancient magic rumbled between them, amidst Voldemort's hot anger that made him lose his mind. The magic was so strong that Hacan had to slam their bodies into the ground and cast the most powerful protection magic. From the corner of his eye he could see Gideon, Alexander and Seth also doing the same thing.
"Avada—" the tip of Voldemort's wand was not pointed at Harry. The tip of the stick points in the opposite direction. Harry knew he wouldn't make it, but Harry apparated anyway .
“Kedavra.”
The magic shot past Harry straight towards Marcus' body who fell in his arms. His silver eyes were frozen in time, looking at Harry, but not seeing him. Harry screamed so loud it shook the world around him, tearing reality apart.
“YOU TAKEN WHAT'S MOST PRECIOUS FROM ME! I WILL TAKE WHAT IS MOST VALUABLE FROM YOU!” Voldemort's voice was loud before a loud bang marked the moment he apparated away .
Her face was wet with tears. He hugged Marcus tightly while screaming non-stop. He felt his magic being pulled in two different directions. The wind howled around him, making the trees sway. Dew falls, becoming one with the wind. At the same time, when he felt his magic like a string about to break… the wind froze, the dew stopped before it hit the ground.
A figure of an adult man clad in a black robe slowly descended, the tips of his feet visible from his long robe, revealing bare skin decorated with black mud. He got down behind Harry, covering him with his black cloak like a blanket, covering Harry's back.
"Harry… my Harry…" he whispered. Cupping Harry's head, leaning it against his shoulder. One of its skeletal hands, touched Marcus's arm.
“Please… please… Death…”
“There are rules that cannot be broken, kid… life and death…”
"Don't Marcus…"
"Everything that lives must die."
“Death.”
"All the living, Harry," whispered Death. “I will not take the dead, I only take those who are no longer alive.”
That sentence…
“You only take those who are not alive.”
"Yes."
"But if it's dead..."
“They will be my best friends.”
"You want Voldemort because he's still alive."
"Yes."
“You don't want Marcus.”
"He has already crossed. We have exchanged greetings.”
"But he can come back, but not as a living part," Harry whispered, "That's why I dreamed of this thing," Harry took out the Lapis Vivus Mortem— Living Death Stone. “The ritual makes the dead come back. Like suspended animation. As long as the conditions are met. It must be done while the body of the dead person is still warm. Must be done by a strong Necromancer as a bridge to reach the world of death. There must be death... at first I thought, of course someone had to die to carry out this ritual. But I was wrong, wasn't I? What Death meant in that statement was you…. I can only carry out this ritual with your approval,” Harry turned and jumped to hug Death. “Thanks, Death,” he sobbed.
The deity looked embarrassed, before finally hugging Harry back.
“But this does not guarantee that Marcus will return. You need to find a way to allow Marcus to permanently step into the world of the living. The continuation of this ritual is the formation of Dementors. But we don't want that for Marcus, do we?”
Harry nodded, "Help me, Death?"
"Always, little Master..." whispered the Deity, who moved to hug Harry from behind. “I give you permission, please tie the rope, be an anchor for your soulmate, bring him back.”
Harry's emerald eyes slowly blackened. There are no mantras or ancient languages to be chanted in this ritual. There is only the will and touch of Death's hand. “Come back to me, Marcus.” The ball of light shot out of Death's hand and into Lapis Vivus Mortem , not Marcus' body . However, at the same time, Marcus sighed.
Harry cupped his lover's cheek and kissed him tearfully. He could feel the warm breath brushing his face. Marcus is alive and in time, he will open his eyes again.
Death touched Harry's shoulder, took the Lapis Vivus Mortem , created a chain around it and put it around Harry's neck. "Never let go, carry this stone always with you because you are the only anchor for Marcus." Then, suddenly the Deity creature disappeared in a gust of wind without saying goodbye, and at the same time, time rolled back. The dewdrops finally fell to the ground and the wind blew, whirling, across the grave.
"Trims, Death..." Harry whispered into the night sky.
"Harry!" Gideon grabbed him and hugged him. "Harry... Marcus..." the man looked relieved when he saw that Marcus was still breathing. “Thank God… I thought the spell…” his voice choked. The three vampires stood around them. Looks still alert, in case there is still danger emerging.
Harry shook his head. "The spell hit him," Harry whispered.
“But how—” Hacan choked, then understanding appeared on his face, as did the other two Vampires. “That rock! You used it successfully!”
Harry nodded. They didn't need to know of Death's interference. So he simply explained, “Previous death in medical terms may have looked like suspended animation. "Right now Marcus is in a coma, so we can have time to find a way to wake him up again."
Gideon rubbed his only child's face. There was no sadness on his face, but he knew how gentle Gideon's soul was and his love for Marcus. Harry gripped the man's hand tightly, "He'll wake up."
"I know. You won't let him sleep."
"What are your plans now?" Seth asked.
"I'm not going back to Hogwarts." They all looked shocked by his decision. But no one refutes it. They respected Harry's choice and they knew that Hogwarts had nothing more to offer him. Especially with Marcus' current condition, Harry needs all his time and energy to do research.
“It would be good if you continued your education at Avalon. "I'm sure we can help you find a way to reawaken Marcus," offered Alexander in his calm, fatherly tone. “But before that, let's leave this place immediately. It's not good to linger in the grave, it can bring bad luck, even to creatures of darkness."
Harry nodded, he stood up. Gideon easily carries Marcus' body. Hacan grabbed him in his arms. “To Flint Manor?”
“That seems the most sensible option. "We can close all access once we get there," Gideon chimed in.
Harry dropped his head on Hacan's shoulder. At the same time, in his mind the prophecy in the Centaurus' song replayed again in his mind...
“A raven flew to the Full Moon during a winter storm.
When the messenger arrived, the Kingdom burned to the ground.
Witch and Demon come to leave.
The messenger has come, the King of the north will rise.”
As Harry listened to the singing in his head. His emerald eyes turned silver. He saw a room whose walls were built of black stone. A man in a black robe bows under the light coming from the Devil's hole* (A/N: a hole usually built at the highest peak of a pantheon used by the Romans to worship the sun god and given another name by Catholics as the devil's hole ).
The hunched man slowly got up. And from there he finally stood up straight. Showing broad shoulders beneath the black robes usually worn by people in the Middle Ages. The man tilted his head back slightly, and as he was about to turn his head, Harry's vision faded. He only heard a whisper... "Darling..."
"Harry..." Gideon patted his cheek. "Are you okay?"
Harry shook his head.
"Come on. I'll take you to your rooms. "And you can hug Marcus all night," whispered Hacan, trying to cheer Harry up. Harry just nodded.
As Lord Flint had promised, the man immediately locked all access to their territory. The night Harry fell asleep exhausted while hugging Marcus, everyone stood behind the white castle gates. On both Lady and Lord Flint's hands there were cuts that continued to bleed. The two of them stood facing each other, and put their hands together and brought them in front of their chests. The two closed their eyes and felt the magic moving around the entire castle. The two magics touched the core at the center of the castle, summoning its protective magic. If this magic is not carried out using a magic core—which is always planted in the center of the castle during the construction of every wizard's castle—this protection magic will definitely drain the magic of the person who casts the spell.
It didn't take long until the castle disappeared from sight, leaving the hills and mountains in its illusion. People living nearby will have their views diverted and will be made to forget their memories. This magic is similar to Fidelius Charms, the difference is, this magic is a part of ancient magic whose types and forms differ for each wizarding family. A magic categorized in the realm of family magic. Of course, the effect is much different from Fidelius Charms, because it does more than just hide the object, but also erases its existence from those who are not given permission to know. The consequences are also much more dangerous, because if you insist on finding him, the risk is your life.
The next day, Harry Potter's disappearance along with the Triwizard Tournament trophy became big news on the front page of every wizarding newspaper. No one knows the real reason for the magic prince's disappearance. Obviously, if Cedric did tell Dumbledore what happened, they didn't share the secret with the media. Thus, the concerns raised in these articles were filled with speculation, which gradually became conspiracy theories. Many of the articles made no sense, but the worst, as usual, was Rite Skeeter's, with its spectacular title;
HARRY POTTER'S LETTER ANGER
(his rebellious attitude because he failed to represent Hogwarts made the magical prince leave Hogwarts)
Harry rolled his eyes and threw the newspaper onto another pile of newspapers. He turned and stepped over to the side of the bed where Marcus lay. Several potion bottles appeared to fill the night table, some were still full, and some empty ones had fallen to the ground. Every few hours, they needed to give Marcus a potion, as if he were a patient in a coma. Healer Anne came and went as often as the potion was administered.
"I'll be right back, my darling," Harry whispered as he kissed Marcus on the cheek.
He went into the painting room, where the nearest fireplace was, and threw in some flo powder before calling out, “St Saviours, Knightsbridge!”
He slid out and tried his best not to fall to the floor. He didn't know how long any magical journey would be able to comfort him. Harry had a theory about that; Most likely why magic travel was never comfortable for him was because the magic was too big for the type of travel magic that actually had the concept of slipping your physical body between dimensions. Perhaps, this difficulty is also experienced by wizards like Dumbledore or Voldemort. The difference is, they have lived through decades to overcome it. Meanwhile, Harry, whose magic was still growing, was thrown around in the air like this every time he used the fireplace.
“Dobby.”
The house elf appeared in front of him, "Master Hadrian's guests are in the reading room, waiting for Master Hadrian with snacks and tea!"
"Thanks, Dobby!"
“Always, always, Master Hadrian…”
Harry entered the room and found William Blackstone standing in front of the bookshelves, examining the titles. “Mr Blackstone?”
“Just William, Mr. Peverell.” Harry took his handshake. “I hope you are okay?”
Harry knew the reason for the question. “If you mean the reason why I stole the Triwizart cup and ran away? I don't need money to sell it on the black market.” Harry invited the man to sit back on the sofa.
The man laughed softly. “Of course I know that, I am your financial expert. Whatever happened to you and forced you to steal the Triwizart cup was definitely not an ordinary thing… and I heard, the Flint family Manor is currently under Fidelius Charm… ?” provoked the man with a probing look.
Harry maintained his poker face. He knew that Marcus must have chosen William after going through various considerations... and one of them was whether or not he could be trusted. However, the problem that befell him was more complicated than just juvenile delinquency as per the Daily Profert reports. So, without explaining anything, Harry said, "I want Harry Potter to disappear."
The man raised his eyebrows high, "You mean disappeared..."
"Whether dead, whether gone to a faraway place, I want all of Harry Potter's Vaults to be destroyed and I want a new identity that has nothing to do with Harry Potter, Peverell or anything from wizarding England."
The man took a hard breath. His face turned serious. He smelled something big happening in the wizarding world without him knowing. And he respected Harry by not asking for further explanation. He realized now that working for Harry Potter was certainly not like working with Malfoy, Greedgrass or other lords from ordinary wizarding families.
“Transfer all the family wealth I have to that fake identity Vault. I wanted the identity to be real, with a detailed history so they couldn't trace the fake identity back to the real me. Are you up to it?”
“Time limit?”
"As soon as possible."
“You… intend to leave England?” When Harry didn't answer, he continued, "Does this have anything to do with Marcus leaving?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, "What makes you think that?"
“Well, of course we just met, but I've known Marcus for a long time. Marcus wouldn't have let you deal with this all on your own if he hadn't been hindered by something.”
Harry sighed, "You just need to know, I need a new identity to be able to easily travel abroad without lots of people asking questions and an identity that doesn't bring the focus of the media or the dark lord when I'm minding my business. I don't know how long I'll use that identity, but want it to be strong enough as an identity I can maintain for several years.”
“It requires a bit of complicated tricks. You know how the magical community works. If that identity is pureblood, then your identity is no stranger to other purebloods. For example, an old and lost name like Peverell, as soon as you use it, anyone immediately knows you with all its history. "But if we use Half-Blood or Muggle-born, you won't be able to easily enter the secret realms of wizards—seeing as you need an identity that can take you anywhere."
"Then what is the solution?"
“How about an alias? Everyone doesn't know who you are, but they can guess. A guess is easier to direct according to your wishes. You can pretend and make them guess who you are; a pureblood, half-blood, Veela or something else, depending on who you interact with.”
Harry nodded, “Aka, then. With a closely guarded secret.”
"Perfect." The man stood up and shook hands with Harry, "I will prepare the documents, contact Gringotts and erase all traces of you in the wizarding world. I'll send an owl when everything's ready.”
"Thank You."
“Anytime, Lord Peverell.”
Harry walked the man to the fireplace, before leaving the house to return to Flint Manor. There he was greeted by the three vampires who sat waiting for him in the painting room with piles of newspapers. On the newspaper page, it was determined that the winner of this year's Triwizart Tournament was Cedric, because he was the only participant who returned even though he didn't bring his trophy. Seeing the young man on the winner's stage with a sour face made Harry smile with relief. At least, even though the victory was not ideal, the young man did not end up as a victim of Avada Kedavra.
"So, are you really sure you want to enroll in Avalon under another identity?" Seth asked.
"Yes. That's the only way I can freely do things and mind my own business without a lot of people interfering.”
“Hm… what a shame… your return to Avalon is an event worthy of celebration. However, if you have decided that, I will respect your decision…” the man said softly. “But, with a different identity, you have to go through the same selection as the other participants. I cannot give you the freedom that befits a descendant of Merlin…”
Harry smiled and nodded. "It doesn't matter to me, Master Alexander... if I can't pass the selection, then it means I'm not capable."
The headmaster of the oldest magic school nodded in agreement. The man knew, however, that Avalon was a school of the chosen. Even if they were descendants of Merlin himself, if they did not meet the criteria to enter Avalon, they would not be able to enter it. The days after that were spent by Harry preparing to enter the Avalon school of magic under the direct guidance of the Elders of the Council of Magical Creatures and the Head of the Avalon School of Magic.
Continued
.
Notes:
Thank you, for patiently waiting for the update... sorry, I can only continue after months... I hope this can cure your curiosity, OK? I'm waiting for the review, friends
Chapter 21
Chapter Text
"Harry Potter. Peverell terakhir..."
" ...The boy of destiny, the boy in the prophecy, the chosen child..."
" ...The child destined to leave..."
" ...must go to know the meaning of coming home..."
....................................................................
A man walked through the ministry's spacious atrium which showed golden figures of wizards, centaurs, goblins and house elves above a fountain called the Fountain of Magical Brethren. The young man was very handsome, with golden brown skin like Middle Eastern people. He has curly black hair with gold eyes. Her entire being was the picture of perfect exoticism. Everyone looked at him twice as he passed, amazed at his good looks. The man wore a black robe, the thin material of the robe looked cool, falling around his body like a frame that was only held in place by a golden eagle pin. But, for those who know who the real man is, they can easily find similarities with the British pureblood wizarding family, the Crouch family. Especially from the shape of his nose and thin lips.
"Ah, Lord Crouch," exclaimed a man who approached him with a big smile and shook his hand. "Welcome! Welcome!"
The man who was called Lord Crouch lowered the corners of his lips with a grim expression, "I am called Hannibal Aemilius of Cannae," his words were spoken flatly, slowly and almost like a hiss. "But if you have to, then please call me by the name Aemilius-Crouch. Remembering Crouch is my mother's surname... mr Clifford Crowther. "
mr. Clifford looked misbehaved. Occasionally he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. The two didn't stop, talking as they rushed towards the auditorium on the second floor, where the Wizengamot meeting was taking place.
"Of course, of course, Lord Aemilius-Crouch," he cleared his throat nervously. It's not every day that someone gets to meet the descendants of ancient Roman royalty. Every pureblood knew who Aemulius was. The descendants of Aemilia or Ailmilia, were one of the greatest noble families of Ancient Rome.
Claimed descent from Numa Pompilius, the second king of ancient Rome. Members of the Aemilius family held the highest offices of state, from the early decades of the Republic through the Empire. That is why, in this modern era, its members hold important positions in Egypt as representatives of the Italian Ministry. Some say that the Prince family is descended from Aemilius who chose to live in England and throw away his origins as a noble family.
That was why, the pitch black color of Lord Hannibal Aemilius-Crouch's hair reminded him of the professor from Hogwarts; Professor Prince- how funny, who would have thought the surname Prince came from a pun! (A/N: Pun is the use of words that have many meanings or words that sound similar but have different meanings. Because Aemilius has an equal position with Prince, the name Prince is like a joke for them).
Mr Clifford, who served as Head of the Department of Foreign Affairs, was a little nervous because of Hannibal's sudden arrival, but not without reason. Who knows, with the death of Bartemius "Barty" Crouch Sr. and the death of his son in Azkaban many years ago, there were no direct heirs to the Crouch family except for the matrilineal side. Remembering that Barty Crouch Sr only has two sisters. The eldest sister had died without children, while her other sister; Lady Dorothy Crouch, married the first son of the Aemilius family, Lord Gaius of Rome and settled in Egypt. They had two sons and ahead of him now was Hannibal Aemilius, their second son, who had taken over the leadership of his uncle's family and become Lord Crouch.
Or that's how Hadrian Peverell has planned for Barty Crouch Jr's new identity. Of course, all plans had gone through difficult and complicated procedures. With the help of William Blackstone and his 'back door' connections at Gringotts, Barty was able to create a "new" identity as his cousin's younger brother. They were lucky because the Aemilius family easily agreed to the collaboration; no pureblood family would refuse an additional heir when the wizard birth rate was so low, especially among purebloods. Moreover, the heir recommended by Hadrian Peverell.
Of course, Peverell's first meeting with Aemilius was an unusual encounter that could be written into a chapter of its own; considering that Peverell also has roots in Ancient Rome. But, we won't discuss that.
Lord Gaius Aemilius of Rome, was willing to give a drop of his blood to change Barty Jr's DNA to become part of the Italian Royalty family, and make him the second heir to his dynasty on one condition; alliance with Peverell. Lord Gaius gave Barty a new name, Hannibal and the title Duke of Cannae. What irony! Giving Barty a name derived from the most famous enemy general in the Punic wars fought over the region of Cannae. It's as if Lord Gaius shows Barty's contradictory and secretive identity. An identity that describes the nature of General Hannibal who likes to infiltrate the most dangerous and secret places to bring down his opponents.
So, this is where Barty, with his new name Hannibal, infiltrated the British Ministry to carry out Harry's plans. The disappearance of Barty Jr. certainly also dealt a painful blow to Voldemort and he was sure that the man would definitely find out where Barty had disappeared. It's thrilling, but Barty believes the man will never be able to reveal his new identity because magic has changed him permanently. A touch of forbidden magic with the help of Goblins; not only an adoption attempt, but total DNA erasure and changing his entire self to truly be a descendant of Lord and Lady Aemilius. Who would have thought there was such a way?
Mr Clifford opened the door, "Please, Lord Aemilius Crouch..." and with steady steps Hannibal entered the room with his new persona. The auditorium was filled with around fifty people, all of whom, as far as he could see, were wearing plum colored robes with an intricate silver W on the left side of the chest and all staring at Dumbledore who was speaking in the center of the room as the head of the meeting. Some with very stern expressions, others looking full of curiosity. On each seat, which is shaped like a circular tribune with soft seats, there is a flag floating above it to show the identity of where they come from.
Mr Clifford cleared his throat loudly, when everyone in the stands didn't stop talking, the man did it again louder. Dumbledore fell silent and looked at him, slowly followed by the others.
"Welcome to Lord Hannibal Aemilius-Crouch of Cannae, representative of the House of Crouch." Instantly a flag with the Crouch family symbol - a suit of armor with red ribbons adorning each side - appeared above the empty seats in the stands. Hannibal strode up to the stands, ignoring everyone's stares and whispers of his special family name.
As soon as he stood in front of his chair, facing the curious heads, Hannibal said, " Nay, apart from the House of Crouch, Hardian Peverell has by proxy delegated me as the representative of the House of Peverell."
Instantly two new flags appeared over Hannibal; a flag with a green snake emblem and a flag with a lion symbol appeared and merged into a new flag. The symbol in the new flag is a circle divided by a vertical line inside a triangle that everyone knows as the symbol of the Dark Lord Grindelwald. There were a few people who gasped in horror at the sight, but most - who had read Hadrian's articles - did not seem surprised. The two Coat of Arm symbols fluttered side by side above Hannibal.
"As a representative of the House of Peverell, here I want to restore the meaning of the Peverell Coat of Arm symbol . So that you all remember that before the civil war, Peverell had been a symbol of two Empires in Europe. The descendants of the House of Herpo from Ancient Rome and House of *Wyllt from Ancient Britain** (*A/N: Merlin. **or what is also called Roman Britain 43 AD - 410 AD).
In the midst of the silence that suddenly filled the meeting room, Dumbledore asked, "If it is true that Harry Potter appointed you as his representative-," Hannibal frowned at the nickname Dumbledore used to refer to Hadrian, "-in other words, you know where Harry is now ?"
"Lord Peverell's existence has nothing to do with you, and I have no obligation to answer you."
Dumbledore looked at him gravely, with a fatherly expression. "You should know, Harry Potter's existence is very important to the wizarding community. His safety is a priority for all of us. Especially after the Flint family cut off contact from the wizarding world, no one knows about him or guarantees his safety."
Hannibal replied calmly, "And his safety is your concern? As far as I know, the Flint family has taken legal custody of Hadrian Peverell. And magic would not recognize me here, if Hadrian was forced to delegate me. So, there is no reason for you to suspect the Flint family ."
"If there is nothing wrong with Harry Potter, then why did he leave Hogwarts. He is still a teenager and education is important for young wizards. I have contacted other wizarding schools, but no one is enrolling a new student as Harry Potter... "
Hannibal smiled wryly. His sharp eyes studied Dumbledore. He didn't know what caused Dumbledore to be so obsessive about Hadrian or what the man had planned for the future. But, he's not stupid. He suspected that Dumbledore had an interest in Hadrian, the same interest as the reason why the Dark Lord had tried to kill a baby.
"There are many ways to learn magic without having to go through formal education. Anyone can take the NEWT exam at the Ministry." Hannibal turned his gaze around the room, "If we agree to end this pointless discussion, let's start the real meeting. I heard that nonsensical anti-Werewolf legislation was proposed at this meeting. Let's listen, I want to see how stupid the British wizards are in his efforts to remove Werewolves from the category of wizards." While saying so, Hannibal's eyes fell on Lucius Malfoy. The man didn't look very good. There were black shadows under his eyes, as if a beautiful dream was just a dream.
Hannibal could understand; How could Lord Malfoy not be afraid if his house became a base for Voldemort and his followers? Moreover, after Dumbledore pressured the Aurors to carry out inspections of wizarding homes as a cover for his efforts to suppress the black faction. Of course they didn't manage to find anything at Malfoy Manor. But that doesn't reduce the terror felt by the homeowner.
The meeting ended with the rejection of anti-werewolf legislation, mainly due to Hannibal holding many seats and influencing other factions not to vote. However, Hannibal was sure that the legislation would have continued to be proposed if Umbridge was still Senior Deputy Minister of Magic. They were lucky because the woman's influence in the Ministry had begun to fade due to the articles written by Rita Skeeter at Hadrian's request and the woman was thrown into Azkaban.
Of course, these articles are not all facts and not completely lies. Rita is an expert in expressing theories that can sway public opinion. What matters is that they achieved their goal of sabotaging Umbridge's good name and used it to emphasize that the current Ministry is incompetent. Then, in the end, Hannibal will deliver a crushing blow so that he can become deputy Minister of Magic. Hadrian had given him an ultimatum to immediately take over the position before the new school year started and Hannibal had collected all the data he needed.
But before that, he had another mission.
Hannibal slipped through the crowd, avoiding Dumbledore's twinkling eyes and stepped swiftly next to Lucius Malfoy. Before the man could say a word, Hannibal slipped the folded paper into his hand. Lucius looked at him with a surprised look, which he only responded with a wink. Then, Hannibal turned around and just left, as if there had been no interaction between them.
Lucius swallowed hard and moved quickly out of the corridor. When he managed to be alone, Lucius peeked at what was written behind the folded paper. It was a familiar address. Without thinking, as soon as he arrived at the Apparition area, he immediately apparated to the location written there.
Lucius appeared in a familiar room. One of the rooms in the upscale Magic Hotel. Inside the room, Hannibal Aemilius rose from the sofa to greet him. "Lord Malfoy. Thank you for coming."
"Lord Courch," he replied, returning Hannibal's handshake.
"Teh?"
"Ya, please."
For a moment the only sound was the sound of the cup being stirred. There was a kind of heavy silence in the room. As if waiting for something big to happen. After a while, and neither of the two starting a conversation, Lucius finally said, "It's surprising that the Aemilius family decided to build an alliance with Peverell."
"That surprising?" Hannibal smiled while sipping his tea. "As I said before at the Ministry, Peverell has a long history with the Aemilius family. This does not mean that our non-participation with the British Ministry makes us indifferent to Peverell. As soon as the media proclaimed Hadrian's existence, our eyes were already on Britain. We have been waiting for the return of the alliance which has lasted for hundreds of years. By chance I took over the leadership of the Courch family and used my position as an offer for cooperation."
Lucius nodded. It makes sense that not many people know about this alliance. Alliances between wizarding families were usually private. It can be seen clearly only when all factions gather to vote. Looking at the roots of the Peverell family, it is not surprising that they had an ancient, and most likely binding, treaty; such as not being allowed to kill each other between two families, economic cooperation agreements or even marriage.
Unfortunately, as interesting as the conversation about this was, Lucius knew that was not the point of their meeting. So, he cleared his throat and said, "Thank you for answering my curiosity, Lord Courch... but we both know you have something important to say, right?"
Hannibal smiled. Then, without further ado, he asked, "How confident are you in your occlumency abilities?"
"Enough unless the Dark Lord deliberately wants to destroy the inside of my head."
"You're confident enough to manipulate your memories when the Dark Lord kindly asks to enter your head?"
"I can get my memories out for a while."
Hannibal nodded, "I guess that could be one way. But if you don't have time to do it?"
"You don't need to tell me in full, just enough to carry out my duties."
Hannibal nodded, "From your words... I'm guessing Lord Peverell has contacted you?"
The man nodded, "Lord Peverell... knows what my priority is. He guarantees the safety of my family. Especially Draco..."
"So, I guess we got you to support Peverell's every move especially when the Ministry was taken over?"
"Not on decisions that would make the Dark Lord suspicious... but other than that... you have me," Lucius swallowed hard, "You predict that's the next step the Dark Lord will take? Taking over the Ministry?"
"Not in the next year. But when he manages to gather power, of course taking control of the Ministry is the most sensible step. But we can't completely predict that... You realize the Dark Lord is not as sane as he should be..." Hannibal brewed tea into their cup. "Maybe it makes it seem very dangerous, that madness... but actually we can use that loophole to our advantage, especially by attracting factions to the dark wizard family. Nobody wants to be led by a madman. I know why they don't running behind Dumbledore was because the Light Lord would not accept a group of black wizards... but the Peverell family was famous for its legend of being close to Necromancy and its descendants were known to be neither black nor white."
Lucius nodded. "In fact, many pureblood families now tend to be pro-Peverell... but I'm not sure they will clearly declare their alliance... most of them are trying to avoid direct confrontation with the Dark Lord..."
"I know. Lord Peverell is also ensuring that no open confrontation occurs. We are not yet ready for the consequences of the large number of casualties... Lord Peverell is worried about the population of the British wizarding community if open war occurs."
"Lord Peverell is trying to end this war with a one-on-one duel?" Lucius whispered in disbelief.
"I don't know for sure what Lord Peverell's ultimate goal is, other than that he has a plan. However, if we look broadly at the scenario he has outlined... the first stage is to quietly cripple the political power of the Dumbledore and Voldemort factions at the Ministry. And this also requires a touch of your hand. You are a skilled politician with a position that allows you to easily move in the inner circle of Death Eaters. You will be our ears for Voldemort, just as Lord Prince was our ears for Dumbledore."
Lucius gasped, "So it's true that Prince has been supporting Dumbledore all along?! So he's been a spy for Dumbledore all this time? Or is he a double spy?"
Hannibal shook his head, "He has never changed his alliance with anyone. The Lord Prince has been in the Ubreakable Vow to protect Hadrian Peverell since he was a year old. His alliance is Harry Potter."
"Morgana..."
Hannibal took out two documents, placed them on the coffee table and pushed them to Lucius. "Please observe these two documents. At the next Wizengamot meeting, we will prioritize the law on the safety of underage wizards and protocols for the trial of Wizards. Cases like Lord Black's must not be repeated," then Hannibal handed me another roll of parchment.
Lucius raised an eyebrow as he opened the scroll and found handwriting there. After reading it for a moment, he put it down and looked at Hannibal in disbelief. "Lord Peverell asked me to take you to be Senior Deputy Minister of Magic!"
Hannibal nodded, "with less than four months, before September."
"Mengapa?"
"Because I'm going to take over Hogwarts."
...
Hannibal came out of the Courch family's fireplace and walked into the living room. He found Hadrian waiting for him there. The boy, or what he could now call a young man, was standing in front of a bookshelf with a book in his hand. He had taken off his typical Slytherin uniform, replaced by a tight black outfit that showed off his muscles. The outfit was similar to an Auror uniform, the difference was that most of it was made of black leather, with pockets and straps for weapons. There was a dagger holster on the side of his thigh, ready to be pulled out at any time. And Hannibal was sure, as was the wand holster on his clothing-covered arm, ready to slide into his grasp at any moment.
Hadrian threw away his old persona, and created a new persona like a Warrior. Gone was the friendly expression on her beautiful face. Now his face is covered with a black cloth that hides his identity. A hooded cloak hid his curls, only revealing his green eyes that were mystical with magic. An Anzus ᚨ futhark rune adorns the corner of his eye, replacing his glasses. Now he is called by the alias Corvi- bc: ko:vai , which comes from Latin for crow. In English, this name is known as Corvus, which is also the name of a small rectangular constellation south of the equator, located between Virgo and Hydra.
Her great-grandmother was Black, so Barty-Hannibal knew a lot about the legends stored in each constellation. The legend regarding Corvus has existed since Babylonian times, developing from time to time, up to Roman civilization. Whatever the name of this constellation in each era, Corvus is always associated with legends of the underworld. Ancient pagan societies, the Anglo-Saxons, even the Celts, considered the Curvus a symbol of the gate to the world of darkness. Something interesting about this constellation is that its appearance is used to mark the coming and going of the winter solstice or what we know as Yule and the summer solstice - equinox; which begins and ends the circle of pagan celebrations called the Wheel of the Year . This unique meaning may also be one of the reasons Hadrian chose it.
Corvi looked at Hannibal coldly. Since Marcus fell into a coma, Hadrian had never once smiled. His expression became cold with a character as hard as a rock. Hadrian Peverell is no longer an easily swayed wizard, and anyone who stands in his way will suffer the consequences of the sharpness of his dagger . It's ironic, because Voldemort's revenge has created the most dangerous version of Harry Potter. Creating something that calls itself Corvi as its counterpart . Just imagining it made Hannibal shudder.
"My Lord," sapanya.
"I told you there's no need to be so formal Bart-Hannibal," he walked towards the sofa in front of the fireplace and plopped down there. "I hope everything goes smoothly?"
Hannibal nodded, "I've contacted Lucius. We just have to wait for our plan to roll out. Legislation to change the law regarding witch trials is expected to be introduced at the regular Wizengamot meeting next week. We will use that as a tool to start investigating old cases, especially members of the Ministry for reasons of internal cleansing within the Department. One of the cold cases we will file is the mysterious disappearance of the Umbredge family, in this case the Squib mr Umbridge née Selwyn, Ellen Cracknell Orford and Sebastian Orford regarding Dolores Umbridge's past which has been published several times as a reason for filing in the name of 'viral news that affects the good name of the Ministry'. After that it is Lucius' part to help us with the vote."
"Good. I'll follow his progress while I'm in England."
"Uh... when do you plan to leave?"
"Alexander said his exams will start in early October."
"Until... when do you think you'll be there?"
"Until I find a way to wake Marcus. That's why I need your help to be my eyes and ears here."
Hannibal nodded, "You can rely on me, my Lord. " After all, there is a reason why I was named after a War General, Hannibal thought.
Their plans began to show impact a few weeks later. It can be clearly seen from the news in the Daily Prophet which is like a series of stories about the Umbridge family. New laws were written and passed. New protocols were enforced, giving them a way to bring the Umbridge family's case to the public. Even after the woman was thrown into Azkaban, the punishment continued to increase as the evidence mounted. Harry comes to his public trial in his disguise as Corvi.
The courtroom was crowded with journalists and curious wizards. In the end, the frog-faced woman had her sentence increased by twenty years, for a total of 70 years in confinement. Due to criminal acts of premeditated murder and falsifying identity as a pureblood, and many other small illegal things, especially when he served as Head of the Department of Improper Use of Magic. The sub-division that deals with magical events in front of Muggles. Apparently, her hatred of her Squib father, Muggle mother and sister, caused the woman to be so sad*stic when handling matters related to Muggle-borns. Making him often imprison innocent people just because they had ties to Muggles.
Harry heard whispers around him. How Umbridge's former colleagues spoke openly about the woman's character. Most of them apparently chose to pretend they didn't know and pretended to believe the woman's lies about their origins because she was very dangerous. Often bad luck befalls people who offend them. There are also those who talk about the reason why Umbridge's career was so successful at such a young age, they say it was because Umbridge often stole other people's work, claiming it as her own. That's why the woman never succeeded in romantic relationships. Anyone who is initially amazed by her hardworking attitude will step back once they find out her true disgusting nature behind her sweet smile. Even his thoughts about Muggles and what to do about them were, even for anti-muggle wizards, extremely barbaric. Hearing all the discussions in this court made Harry feel that Umbridge was still lucky not to have been kissed by a Dementor. Harry thought that what Umbridge would do to underage students at Hogwarts was terrible enough, apparently he was wrong.
Barty, or now called Hannibal, won the hearts of many people after his debut in the Wizengamot. Moreover, because the new legislation and protocols proposed have succeeded in providing changes, which indirectly, increase public trust in the Ministry. Votes are easy to get, almost without having to reason. Perhaps, those who don't accept it will think this happened because of the name Harry Potter behind it. However, in fact, it cannot be denied that Hannibal himself was a charismatic wizard. Aemilius' big name would be useless if he couldn't win favor in the House of Lords or even the House of Commoner. It's no surprise to see Hannibal attending several private dinners or dance parties. Now, his face often graces the front page of the Daily Prophet, of course alongside the conspiracy theory of Harry Potter's disappearance.
Lucius Malfoy immediately took this opportunity to sponsor Hannibal as a candidate for Senior Deputy Minister of Magic. Of course this is not something that usually happens. Usually, the candidates are taken from those who have had a long career in the Ministry. However, it is also not impossible, considering that many of the Ministry's inner circle have been arrested for breaking the law, reducing the number of competing candidates.
Plus, his clean record and because he was still young, full of new ideas, made his popularity skyrocket. It's nothing new in the wizarding community to bend conventions a bit as wizards are used to being flexible in dealing with things. So, votes were easily given to support him to run as Senior Deputy Minister of Magic. The position was handed to Hannibal on a silver platter.
His closeness to the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge made it easy for Hannibal to manage the political climate in the Ministry, like a puppeteer running a puppet show. Hannibal began whispering rumors about Dumbledore in the Minister of Magic's ear. Hannibal fully understood Cornelius Fudge's hidden fear of Dumbledore. Even though he had served as Minister of Magic for almost six years, during that time he also worked under the shadow of Dumbledore's authority.
It was no secret that Dumbledore controlled half of the power moving in the Ministry. The power that Hannibal is disrupting. Ah... no, the power that Hadrian had begun to disturb. Since everyone read his writings in the Daily Profert. Since everyone knew there was Merlin's blood flowing in his veins. Since everyone no longer calls him the Boy-Who-Lived , but the Prince of Magic, Lord Peverell of Britain.
"Yes... I heard that Dumbledore wanted to mobilize his faction to overthrow your power. Didn't you feel it, when the Triwizard Tournament took place. How he easily brushed aside your power. Insulted that you couldn't be a good leader because he wanted to stop the Tournament- "
"How did you know!"
"-Even though you just want to try your best, maintain good relations between the British Ministry of Magic and the international wizarding world. I know, doesn't that mean there are many people who know you were treated like this?"
"Yeah. Yeah.... That's quite worrying..."
"I want you to know, I support you. You have fought these six years, there has never been a Minister for Magic more loved by the public than you. You know I am still young... young blood. I cannot accept you being treated like this.. "Maybe this is just empty talk from young people, it doesn't mean anything... but I don't think you can continue to leave it like that. You have to show where you stand."
"Yes. Yes... I have to show Dumbledore! That man can't just overthrow me!" the man looked confused. "But how..."
"Ah... you are the Minister of Magic. There is no one in this country who is above you. Of course, the most sensible thing would be to take advantage of your position to disturb Dumbledore in his comfort zone. Show him that you as Minister of Magic can do anything , even where Dumbledore thinks he has power. You can send a delegation to Hogwarts. See if the old man is doing his best there. Doing inspections, like Dumbledore who insisted on the Aurors inspecting the Pureblood houses the same thing to him?"
"Brilliant! Brilliant idea. Fine, fine Lord Courch. I'll trust you with that! You can lead the inspection, and reveal the secret of what Dumbledore is doing in his lair!"
Got you, thought Hannibal. "It would certainly be an honor for me if you entrust this matter to me. If so, I will excuse myself to prepare for the inspection. Good afternoon, Prime Minister Fudge."
So, that's where Hannibal's activities at Hogwarts began.
For the umpteenth time, Barty stepped foot at Hogwarts. Even with his new identity, it didn't reduce his happiness as he walked through the cold corridors of Hogwarts. With this, his touch was within the Ministry of Magic and the hearts of British wizards. Two places that will always be the key to change, transition and development of the wizarding world in England.
Dumbledore could not refuse his arrival as a Ministry delegate. The man was forced to introduce him in front of the Hogwarts students. "Let us welcome the speech of the representative of the Ministry, Mr. Hannibal Aemilius-Courch."
Applause was given hesitantly, accompanied by loud whispers;
"Courch?"
"Courch?!"
"Courch like Bartimaeus Courch who was found dead in the forbidden forest?"
"Why is his middle name so strange?" Ron commented.
"Shhh, Ron. That's not a middle name, Ron!" whispered Hermione. "His last name is Aemulius-Courch. That means he represents two wizarding families at once."
"Why so?" Neville whispered.
"Oh, Merlin. And I thought I was the Muggle-born one!" Hermione hissed. "This practice indicates that he inherited the title from one of them, both of them or it was given to him by inheritance. For example, like Harry-" Hermione swallowed hard, holding back her sadness. "For example, Harry, he has the surname Potter, but the Peverell family also recognizes it. So, formally, he can choose the oldest or strongest surname in the document, for example Hadrian James Peverell. However, there are some documents that require a clear name, so, he would write them in order from youngest to oldest, or weakest to strongest. For example, Hadrian James Potter-Peverell."
"So Courch's name is stronger than Aemilius?" Ron asked.
"Not really. I said earlier there were many reasons. Incidentally, I know that Aemilius is the oldest family name in Italy, whose existence can be traced back to Ancient Roman times. It is equivalent to Peverell or Slytherin or Gryffindor. So, I think, he used the same reason thirdly, the name Courch was inherited from him. So, it can be concluded that he was born with the name Hannibal Aemilius, but was not the first child and he received the title of Lord of the House of Courch from another family."
"I've got a headache," said Ron, massaging his forehead, "It's a good thing I'm only a Weasley..."
"Me too," Neville whispered.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "By the way, about Harry, I'm worried about him..."
Ron nodded, "He didn't send any letters at all."
"And Marcus disappeared too. But everyone doesn't seem to think that's any more important," whispered Hermione.
"I'm sure they're fine," Neville replied. "That's Marcus and Harry... they are the strongest wizards of their generation. Whatever happens, I believe they will be fine," he held Hermione's hand.
Hermione rubbed her eyes and nodded.
Far from the warmth of the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Harry held the hand of Marcus who was still fast asleep. A suitcase lay not far from his feet. Almost all of Harry's scattered items had been packed. He knew this was the hardest thing he had to do. Leaving Marcus. Since attending Hogwarts, this was the first time he had been truly far away from Marcus. "I'll be back," he whispered. A tear dripped and fell down Marcus' cheek. The stone around his neck warmed.
Harry placed his palm on the stone. "Yeah. I know. You're always with me."
"Harry, are you ready?" Hacan called him from behind the door.
"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Goodbye, Marcus."
He stood up.
The sound of laughter stopped him in his tracks. When he turned his head, he saw a pair of teenagers, around his age, sitting on a sofa placed facing each other, in front of the fireplace. They both turned to Harry. One of his eyes glowed bright green, full of calm. One with dark, mysterious silver-ringed eyes. Harry smiled as he left the room.
At least he got a good feeling.
It is destined to go, but it will return.
End of Part One. See you in part two.
Continued.
