August 1991
It was difficult to believe that a year had passed since Harry had
made his decision to attend Durmstrang, and from that moment, it
seemed that a fire had been ignited within the boy.
He had always been a little too courageous for Cassiopeia's liking,
attempting ridiculous stunts on his broom, and unafraid at attempting
whatever trials and tribulations were placed in front of him.
It was an admirable quality to possess, but the woman wished he
would allow himself to simply be a child.
It wasn't to be, however.
Only the day after they had returned from meeting with Madame
Maxime and Igor Karkaroff, Harry had requested that he be taken to
Godric's Hollow, his reasoning being so that he could confront what
had happened and ready himself for the path that lay in front of him.
Reluctantly, Cassiopeia had done so, and though she knew that he
hadn't gotten the closure he was hoping for, he had at least begun to
grieve properly for the parents that had been taken from him.
It was the first time she had seen him truly cry over their loss, but his
tears had dried quickly, replaced with the fire of determination she
saw whenever she now looked upon him.
Harry had come away from the house a changed boy, and nothing
other than a torn photo of himself and his parents within a broken
frame.
He had not even allowed Cassie to repair it, choosing to leave it in its
state as a reminder of what had happened.
Ever since, Harry had spent his time reading, flying, and preparing
himself for when he would be able to leave for school to begin what
he had aptly named 'his pursuit of justice'.
He had not disclosed what he meant by the term, but Harry was
making plans, and Cassiopeia could only wonder just what they
would entail.
"Did you receive a reply from Pansy yet?" she asked.
The girl had been a frequent visitor with her father over the years,
and she and Harry had struck up quite the close friendship in the
process.
They wrote to each other often, and Pansy sometimes came to stay
with them for a few days.
It was a reprieve for Harry, who seemed to relax from his workload
when she was here, and Cassie didn't mind.
She was pleased that Harry simply had a friend that helped him
escape his often-maudlin thoughts.
"I did," Harry sighed. "She's disappointed that I chose to go to
Durmstrang, but she understands."
Cassiopeia nodded.
"And has Julius forgiven you for what you did to him last time he was
here?"
Harry shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips.
"I didn't ask, but I expect they only lasted a few days."
Cassiopeia pursed her lips.
Much to the Harry and Pansy's amusement, Harry had managed to
slip the Lord Parkinson a rather odd tonic in his body that had
caused him to grow quite the impressive pair of breasts.
Unfortunately, Harry had not thought to either purchase or brew the
antidote, and Julius had left in quite the huff.
Still, there was no harm truly done, and it was quite the amusing
sight.
Not that she hadn't punished Harry for the transgression.
The boy had spent a week with his library privileges revoked but had
merely spent the time on his broom and completing Quidditch
exercises he had read in a magazine.
If anything, the punishment had only given him something else to
focus on, and he had maintained his new routine and incorporated
into his schedule.
' A healthy mind and body make for strong and healthy magic.'
Cassiopeia couldn't be certain of the veracity of that statement, but it
seemed that Harry had indeed taken on board everything Igor
Karkaroff had said he would need to endure at Durmstrang.
Still, a part of her wished he would reconsider his decision.
The school would indeed prepare him for what he would face when
he chose to return to Britain but having him so close to a former
Death Eater was not something Cassie would ever be comfortable
with.
"Have you packed your trunk?"
Harry nodded.
"I have everything in there I will need," he assured her. "You're more
worried about this than me. Will you miss me that much?" he asked
cheekily.
"I'll miss cuffing the back of your head for your cheek," Cassie
huffed.
The boy grinned at her impetuously and she narrowed her eyes at
him.
"I'll be glad for the peace."
"No, you won't," Harry returned evenly. "You'll be writing to me all the
time."
"Is that so?"
"Yes," Harry sighed as he drew his wand and muttered an
incantation.
From the tip, he produced a single, black rose and handed it to her
before kissing her on the cheek.
"Thank you for everything, Aunt Cass," he murmured. "For taking me
in when you didn't have to."
Cassiopeia smiled.
Despite his rather serious attitude towards his studies, and the bouts
of mischief, there were moments like this when she was reminded
that Harry was, deep down, a very sweet and caring boy, and it gave
her hope that he would maintain some of that.
In many ways, he reminded the woman of her younger sister.
Dorea was the quietest of the siblings but had the most beautiful of
souls to match her appearance.
No wonder Charlus Potter had fallen in love with her so easily.
"You do realise you shouldn't be attempting magic," Cassie pointed
out.
"Not even to do something nice for you?"
Cassiopeia shook her head amusedly as she eyed the wand the boy
had acquired.
' Petrified elm with the fang of a horned serpent, the key to the
underworld, and the bringer of the rain and storms.'
That was the description that Gregorovitch had given as he looked
upon Harry with the most curious of expressions.
' I believe we can expect quite extraordinary things from you, Mr
Potter.'
Those had been his parting words, and he had not even accepted
payment for crafting the wand for Harry.
It had been a rather odd experience, and though Ollivander himself
was an eccentric character, he never forgot to collect his fee.
What Gregorovitch had meant by his statement, Cassiopeia knew
not, but once more, she found herself equally anticipating and
fearing what the future would hold for her great-nephew.
Although he had been expecting it, Albus could not prevent the pang
of disappointment he felt as he looked upon the missive he had
received from Harry Potter stating that he would not be accepting his
offered place at Hogwarts.
A part of the headmaster knew that Gellert was right, that if Harry
was to survive his impending collision with Voldemort, the boy would
need to be ready.
' The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...
born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month
dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have
power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of
the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with
the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh
month dies...'
The words spoken to him so long ago now had sealed the fate of
James and Lily Potter, and Harry even more so.
Now, the shaping of the boy was out of Albus's hands, and though
Gellert was right that Harry needed to be suitably prepared, it did not
sit well with the headmaster that he would have no part in that.
"What is it, Albus?" Minerva asked, noticing his rather downtrodden
demeanour.
Albus said nothing as he slid the letter to the woman.
"Harry Potter will not be attending Hogwarts?" she gasped. "This is
the work of the muggles. I told you the boy should not have been left
with them!"
Albus held up a hand to placate the woman whilst the other
members of staff looked on concernedly.
"It has nothing to do with Vernon and Petunia Dursley," he sighed.
"Harry was not left in their care for more than a few weeks."
"Then who has the boy?" Severus asked, a displeased frown
marring his features.
Albus offered the man an apologetic smile.
He had done all he could to keep Lily Potter safe, but he had failed.
"Harry was taken into the care of his legal guardian not long after he
was placed with the Dursleys and done so with reluctance on mine
and Millicent's part," he explained. "Her reasons were ironclad, and
had we not surrendered Harry to her willingly, it would have created
quite the public debacle that would have seen him in even more
danger."
"Who?" Severus asked confusedly. "The boy had no living relatives
other than Petunia."
Albus released a deep sigh as he met the curious gazes of the
professors.
"Cassiopeia Black."
Severus's eyes widened comically, and Minerva was simply aghast
at the very thought.
"Cassiopeia Black?" she whispered furiously. "You allowed him to be
raised by that woman?"
"Reluctantly," Albus reiterated. "Legally speaking, after Sirius was
imprisoned, she is his recognised guardian."
"Good grief, what an upbringing he must have had," Filius squeaked
worriedly. "We have all heard of her, know what she did during
Grindelwald's uprising."
The other members of staff nodded their agreement, but none
commented.
"Then why has he declined his place here?" Severus asked.
It was almost as though the man was disappointed Harry would not
be coming, though Albus suspected he would not be pleased if he
had.
Where Severus concerned, there was no scenario here that he
would have been truly happy with.
"Harry has opted to attend Durmstrang," Minerva announced,
reading that art of the letter aloud. "He thanks Professor Dumbledore
for honouring the wish of his parents for him to have a place here,
but he will not be accepting it."
"Durmstrang?" Severus scoffed. "Isn't Karkaroff the headmaster
there?"
Albus nodded.
"He is," he confirmed.
"The man was a Death Eater!" Severus snapped angrily. "The boy
will be murdered within a year!"
Albus shook his head.
"No, Igor is not so foolish to do something like that, not when his
safety is all but assured whilst he remains within the school," he said
thoughtfully. "He may not take kindly to Harry's presence, but if there
was ever a resurgence of the Dark Lord's followers, he, like most
others, will look to the boy who brought about his downfall."
Severus's nostrils flared in disbelief.
"Are we to just simply allow this?" Minerva asked quietly.
"We have no say on the matter," Albus pointed out. "Harry has
chosen to seek his education elsewhere and has seemingly done so
willingly. I respect his decision, even if it brings me no pleasure."
Severus and Minerva seemed to be the most displeased by the
news, and Filius even a little upset.
He had been very close to Lily during her years here and Albus
suspected he had been looking forward to teaching Harry.
It was only mere moments later that Albus dismissed his staff before
taking a seat behind his desk, stroking Fawkes' plumage as he
pondered the situation.
' Are you willing to give him the tools he will need?...He is a Peverell,
after all. Their blood flows through his veins. The wand should be
his. Even with my help, the odds are not in his favour.'
Albus removed the elder wand from his sleeve and looked upon it.
He had been carrying it since he had defeated Gellert so many
decades prior and had held onto it for reasons he himself could not
be certain of.
He no longer craved the power of the Hallows, not the tow he
currently had in his possession at least.
He sighed as he removed the cloak he had borrowed from James
Potter from one of the drawers in his desk.
Albus had suspected the Potters were the keepers of the cloak, but it
seemed that Charlus had not explained to James just how
spectacular or unique the one he'd inherited was.
James had been only to pleased to hand it to Albus when asked, and
any man who knew what it was he possessed would have guarded it
with his life.
Still, this wasn't Albus's to keep, and with a wave of the wand, the
cloak was wrapped neatly before the headmaster penned a missive.
"Would you take this to Harry when you can, Fawkes?" he
requested.
With a trill, the phoenix took the package in his beak and vanished in
a column of fire.
When he was alone, Albus turned his attention back to the wand.
If Gellert had his way, the wand would have been sent also, but
Albus was not ready to part with it yet, not until he knew the kind of
man Harry was growing into.
Hi former friend may have convinced himself that the soul fragment
within the boy would not have a detrimental effect on Harry, but
Albus was taking no chances.
The last thing he needed in his advanced years was another Tom
Riddle at large and armed with such a powerful artefact.
No, he would hold onto it for now, and reserve his judgement of
Harry's character when he met him himself. Something he hoped
would be sooner rather than later.
Students are to arrive on the north-eastern coast of Teriberka by
8am on September 1st, in full formal attire where you will be
transported to the institute...
The welcoming letter had been rather vague in nature, and Harry
deduced that it had to do with how secretive Durmstrang as a school
was in general. He'd received only a list of books and equipment he
would need for his first year of education, along with another
explaining what animal companions were and were not acceptable.
Harry had opted to not bring one. He simply didn't want the
responsibility of a pet.
For the time being, Cassiopeia had urged him to keep his
parseltongue ability to himself, unless absolutely necessary.
It wasn't that he would be scorned for it in this part of the world, but it
could prove to be a useful skill for him to implement that others
would not be aware of.
"Do I really have to wear this?" Harry groaned as he took in his
appearance in the mirror.
"Yes," Cassie answered simply.
The woman was too amused for Harry's liking.
It wasn't that the formal attire was awful in any way, but the stark
redness of the military-style jacket clashed horribly with his bright
green eyes.
"Is it time to leave?"
Cassiopeia checked the clock on the wall of Harry's bedroom and
nodded.
"I do wish you would have gotten an owl," she sighed. "I would like
you to write to me."
"The school will have owls that I can use," Harry pointed out. "I will
write to you, every day if it makes you feel better."
"Not every day," Cassiopeia snorted. "I'm only just getting rid of you."
"Have I been so bad?" Harry asked, clutching his chest dramatically.
"You've made my life interesting, to say the least."
"I love you too, Cassie," Harry replied.
Despite her best effort not to, the woman smiled warmly before
pulling him into a tight embrace.
"Remember who you are, Harry," she whispered, "and remember
what you will one day be. In the coming years, you will be the head
of two of the most prominent families in Britain, and that means
something, even in the cold wastelands of where you're going."
"I know," Harry murmured. "I won't let you down, Aunt Cassie."
"I know you won't," the woman sighed. "Come on, we'd best leave. I
don't think it would do you any good to be late."
Harry nodded as he fetched his trunk and looked around the room
he'd spent the best part of almost ten years in.
He would miss home, and the woman that had taken him in, but he
needed to do this; needed to be somewhere that would challenge
him every day he was there.
"Let's go then."
Without another word, Cassiopeia offered the other end of the letter
she held, and when Harry took it in his grasp, she activated the
portkey.
The first thing that Harry noticed when he arrived was the sudden
drop in temperature.
It was freezing here, unbearably so. And were it not for the thick
uniform he had been instructed to wear imbued with warming
charms, he was certain he would have turned to ice the second he
appeared.
Cassie immediately drew her wand and cast several charms on
herself, her teeth still chattering, nonetheless.
"You must be insane for wanting to go to Durmstrang," she
commented as she shivered. "France was so nice."
"It was too nice," Harry commented, looking around at the other
gathered students that had arrived.
All were around his age, the boys dressed identically to himself, and
the girls sporting thick, woollen dresses in the same colour, with
many adding their own layers to stave off the chill.
Already, some seemed to be familiar with each other, and had
gathered in groups where they chatted away, whereas others were
keeping their distance, their expressions guarded.
Harry was among the latter.
The only friend he'd ever had was Pansy, and if truth be told, he
never felt that he'd missed out on companionship, but as he looked
upon those smiling and mixing with others, he thought that perhaps
he might like a friend or two whilst he was at school.
However, he then saw how some of the groups were undeniably
talking about those that were standing alone, some without their
parents with them.
It angered him to see the others being mocked so openly, and he
decided he didn't want to be a part of that.
No, perhaps he would be better served avoiding those peers.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sudden sound of splashing
water and turned to see a ship breaking the surface of the sea only a
short distance away.
The ship was emerging from the water, and he could only stare at
the feat in awe.
When it was fully in the open, Harry was very much reminded of a
pirate ship he had seen in a book, and he turned to Cassiopeia who
was smirking at him.
"It's impressive, isn't it?" she asked.
Harry could only nod in response.
He had expected that they would be met by one of the professors
with a portkey but had not even considered something like this.
"You'd best get on," Cassie said sadly, "or it will leave without you."
Harry pulled the woman into a final hug before kissing her on the
cheek and taking hold of his trunk.
"I will wite as soon as I can," he promised.
Cassie nodded and shooed him away, and Harry was unsure if the
tears that stained her cheeks was from the icy chill of the wind, or
she was genuinely upset to see him leaving.
He liked to think it was the latter, and as he boarded the ship, he
gave the woman a final wave, doing his best to ignore the
overwhelming sadness that washed over him.
He knew he would miss the woman dearly, but it wasn't until he was
leaving her that he truly realised how much.
"I will take your trunk," a gruff voice broke into his thoughts.
"Thank you," Harry replied to the burly, older teen.
The boy nodded stiffly.
"Make your way into the hold, there are compartments down there. It
will take around eight hours to reach Durmstrang."
Harry did as he was bid, and as one of the first people to descend
into the depths of the ship, he quickly found an empty compartment,
and settled in for the journey, enjoying the gentle swaying of the
waves on the outside.
"Sorry, would you mind if I joined you?" a voice sounded from the
door around fifteen minutes after he had arrived. "The others have
more people in, and some of them won't welcome me."
Harry frowned as he took in the girl's appearance.
She seemed to be normal enough at first glance, but there was
undoubtedly something different about her. He couldn't quite work
out what it was, and before he could ponder it further, the girl began
to retreat from the room with an irritable huff.
"You don't have to leave," Harry called. "Please, take a seat."
The girl remained cautious as she did so, her posture stiff, and she
didn't meet his gaze.
It was then that he realised just how different she was seeing her up
close.
Her features were sharper than any other person he had met, and
though that had been few, it was clear that this girl was not entirely
human.
Her skin was pale, and her eyes a golden colour, wider and longer
than what most would consider the norm, but proportionately so.
Her mahogany hair was well-kept, but it had a texture to it that
suggested she spent much of her time outdoors, and by the sea.
"It's not very polite to stare," she muttered, her eyes still not meeting
his own.
"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly. "Why wouldn't some of the others
welcome you?"
The girl looked at him in confusion, as though she was trying to
ascertain if the question was genuine.
"You really don't know, do you?"
Harry shook his head, and the girl rolled her eyes at him in a mixture
of frustration and amusement.
"I'm what some of them would call a half-breed," she revealed. "My
father is a wizard, and my mother is a forest elf. It turns out that I can
use both types of magic," she finished with a shrug.
She briefly moved her hair to show her prominently pointed ears
before covering it once more.
"Why are you sitting alone?" she asked curiously. "Are you a halfbreed?"
"I'm a half-blood," Harry replied.
"So, a wizard then," the girl snorted.
Harry nodded.
"It matters where I'm from," he explained. "There are some
purebloods that will hate me because my mother came from a
muggle family, even if she was a witch."
"It's like that everywhere," the girl sighed. "That's why we have the
black band on our left arm instead of our right. It's so the purebloods
can identify us as different to them."
Harry frowned as he looked at the black strip of fabric around his
arms.
"So, they can discriminate against us?"
The girl nodded.
"My father told me that we will be separated when we eat, in the
dorm rooms, and even in the classroom," she explained. "He said it
is best to avoid the purebloods and not to speak to them unless they
speak to us first."
"That's stupid," Harry muttered.
"It is, but they won't take kindly if you approach them," the girl
pointed out. "They see themselves as above the rest because they
have a pure, human, magical lineage dating back for hundreds of
years."
Harry snorted at the thought.
The purebloods here sounded like those Cassie had described to
him.
It mattered not to Harry.
He already knew he would have to prove himself when he returned
home, so doing so here was nothing he hadn't expected to deal
within the future.
"You said your mother was a muggleborn. Does that mean your
father is a pureblood?"
"He was, but I don't know him, or my mother."
"Why not?"
"She's dead. Both of my parents are."
The girl balked and began stuttering a hurried apology that Harry
waved off.
"It's okay," he assured her. "I was just a baby."
The girl offered him a sympathetic smile.
"My name is Ana by the way, short for Inanna, but only my father
calls me that."
"I'm Harry, just Harry as far as I know."
"Well, just Harry, thank you for not being like the others," Ana said
gratefully.
"Are most of them like that?"
The girl shrugged.
"You get used to it," she sighed. "Humans fear what they don't
understand, even magical ones."
Harry nodded his agreement.
"Why do they fear you?"
Ana raised an eyebrow at him.
"They don't, not really," she replied thoughtfully. "Elves stay away
from others and can be fiercely protective of their lands. I think our
reputation comes from the old tales of the elf/wizarding wars, and
that my ancestors killed a lot of goblin tribes. I suppose we're not
very welcoming, but with good reason. Wizards have tried to take
our lands for thousands of years."
"So, you consider yourself an elf?"
Ana nodded.
"I was raised with them, and they accept me for what I am. The
same can't be said for any witch or wizard I have ever met. My
father's family disowned him when they found out about me."
"That's just stupid," Harry muttered. "They're your family."
Ana shrugged.
"They don't see me that way, so the other elves are my family and
my people."
"But they can't teach you human magic?"
"My father could, but he thinks going to school will be good for me,
and believe it or not, Durmstrang is the most tolerant of them. I didn't
want to come, but my father thinks I will thank him for it."
"Maybe you will," Harry pointed out. "You wouldn't have met me if
you hadn't come."
The girl giggled as she shook her head.
"That is true," she conceded. "Is there anything else interesting
about you other than being a half-blood?" Ana questioned as she
leaned back in her chair, her posture much more relaxed than it had
been when she entered the compartment.
' If only you knew,' Harry thought to himself.
Before he could answer, however, the two were intruded upon by a
sudden burst of flames.
Instinctively, Harry drew his wand and pointed it towards the
magnificent bird that had appeared, and Ana simply stared at the
creature in awe.
"You have a phoenix?" she whispered.
Harry shook his head.
"It's not mine," he replied, neither his eyes nor his wand leaving the
bird.
It trilled, and Harry felt a sense of calmness wash over him.
"He doesn't mean us harm," he assured the girl as he lowered his
wand and allowed the phoenix to deposit the package it carried on
the floor in front of him.
It then turned its attention to the wand he carried and nudged it with
its beak, trilling again, though this time, the tune was mournful.
After meeting Harry's gaze with its own, it took to the air and
disappeared in another burst of flame.
It was Ana that pulled Harry from his thoughts a moment later.
"It's addressed to you," she explained, pointing to the parcel.
Retrieving it, Harry took his seat once more and removed the
accompanying note.
Your father left this in my possession when he died. It is time that it
was returned to you. Use it well.
With a frown, Harry unwrapped the paper, and caught the silvery
cloak within before it spilled to the ground.
"What is it?" he asked.
"An invisibility cloak!" Ana gasped. "Who would send you that?"
Harry shrugged.
"I don't know, but the note says it was my father's."
"That doesn't make sense," Ana mused aloud. "If your father died
when you were a baby, the magic should have faded."
"It might not work anymore then," Harry sighed as he stood and
wrapped the cloak around his shoulders.
"It works," Ana declared. "That's some cloak if it works after all this
time."
Harry nodded.
His body was tingling within the artefact, and though he couldn't
discern exactly what was causing it, he knew it was whatever magic
had been used to create it.
It felt heavy, but not uncomfortably so, and almost as if the cloak
itself was welcoming him.
"I'd keep that to yourself if I were you," Ana advised. "Someone
might try to take it."
"You already know about it," Harry pointed out.
"True, but friends keep each other's secrets, don't they?"
Her tone was almost hopeful, and though Harry had decided that he
may be best suited to staying away from the others, he found that he
was enjoying Ana's company.
Besides, if the purebloods were going to potentially be a problem
whilst he was at Durmstrang, it was best if those that wore the black
band on their left arm stuck together.
They would undoubtedly be outnumbered, after all.
Cassie had explained that many of the students here would be
purebloods, and it would be good practice for him to learn how to
deal with them now rather than inexperiencedly in the future.
He offered Ana a smile and nodded, realising that he was yet to
answer her.
"They do," he agreed warmly, his thoughts drifting to what kind of
mischief he could get up to with the unexpected gift he had received.
She had watched until the ship had returned to the depths, and even
remained for several minutes after until the cold chill of the wind bit
into her cheeks. Already, she missed the boy, something she would
not have thought possible a little less than a decade ago when she
had first brought him home.
Cassie felt lost without Harry, and there was only one place she
could even think of going.
Not that it would make her feel any better, but it would at least serve
as a distraction.
With a sigh, she activated her portkey and arrived outside of the
prison that Gellert had constructed himself, the very same place he
now ironically found himself exiled to.
With her thoughts still on the departed Harry, she made her way
inside, her feet carrying to Gellert's cell where he eyed her curiously
and waited for Cassie to speak.
"He's gone," she whispered, feeling much more emotional than she
had let on.
"His journey has truly begun," Gellert corrected. "You knew this day
would come, and you know the man he must be. His enemies are
plenty, and he will have to be able to destroy them."
"But he's just a boy, Gellert."
"For now," the man agreed, "but not for much longer. They will come
for him, Cass, and he must be prepared for that."
"Will they?"
Gellert nodded darkly.
"Harry represents the single blemish on Voldemort, and when he
returns, Harry is the loose end he will wish to tie up first."
"When he returns?"
"Neither Albus nor I believe he is truly dead," Gellert sighed. "He is in
no state to exact his revenge for the time being, but that will
undoubtedly change one day. It may not be until long after Harry
himself has died from old age, but we cannot place faith in wishful
thinking. We must ensure Harry is ready for when that time comes."
Cassie swallowed deeply as she nodded.
"Where shall we start?"
Gellert smiled as he handed her a roll of parchment.
"These are all the secrets of Durmstrang that I discovered whilst I
was there, and they will be most useful for the boy. See that he gets
them, and I believe with the character he has demonstrated, he will
begin the necessary work himself."
"Will this get him into trouble?"
Gellert chuckled as he shook his head.
"Not unless someone else discovers those secrets, something that is
frankly unlikely. I believe I hid them well enough."
Cassiopeia accepted the roll of parchment and eyed her former
mentor questioningly.
No, Gellert would not wish for Harry to be expelled from Durmstrang.
Not when he had been so pleased the boy had chosen to attend.
"I will send it tomorrow," she assured him.
"Good," Gellert declared happily. "Now, how are you really feeling,
my dear? I know you too well for you to hide from me, Cassiopeia
Black."
Cassie offered the man a sad smile.
He did indeed know her too well, and she wouldn't insult his
intelligence by lying.
Right now, she felt terrible, and wanted nothing more than to drag
Harry home and keep him there away from all the monsters he
would have to confront.
Ana had fallen asleep a few hours into the journey, and Harry had
busied himself by practicing some of the magic Cassiopeia had been
teaching him over the past year.
Although he had only gotten his wand recently, the woman had been
drilling him on the basics of the Black family magic, and from what
Ana had told him, some of the spells may come in handy sooner
rather than later.
The curses seemed to be working well for him and coupled with the
other things he had been teaching himself since he'd been able to
read, he felt that he would be able to assert himself when it became
necessary to do so.
Not that he was relishing the thought of doing so, but he had grown
up expecting he would need to.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, and the
same older student who had greeted him on the gangway peered
around the door.
"We will be arriving shortly," he announced, disappearing before
Harry could even respond.
With a sigh, he gently nudged the sleeping girl awake.
"We will be there soon," he explained.
Ana yawned and nodded before straightening her dress.
"How long was I out?" she asked.
"About four hours."
"I didn't sleep much last night," she defended, narrowing her eyes at
Harry's amused expression.
"You were nervous?"
"I still am," Ana admitted.
Harry offered her a comforting smile.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
The girl raised an eyebrow at him.
"And what makes you think that I can't defend myself?"
"I never said you couldn't," Harry pointed out, "but I've got your back,
if you need me."
Ana looked at him oddly for a moment before nodding.
"You know, if you don't associate with me and the others, you'd
probably be left alone. You're human at least."
Harry shook his head.
"What kind of friend would I be if I did that?" he returned. "Besides, if
they want to separate us, why would I try to be around people that
wouldn't accept me?"
Ana smiled at him.
"Then that already makes you a better person than them."
Harry said nothing.
On the surface, he may appear to be the better person to Ana, but
she didn't know him.
More often than not, he found himself lost in thoughts of vengeance,
of what he would do to those that were responsible for the death of
his parents.
That was what motivated him to work as hard as he did, to persevere
when things became difficult.
Of course, he wanted to make his parents proud, so he would
always give everything he did his all, but it was his need to avenge
them that made Harry push his limits.
There was a darkness within him that he kept at bay, like an itch that
would eventually need to be scratched before it consumed him fully.
They spoke only a little more before they were called to disembark
the ship, and when they did so, Harry was greeted once more to the
sight of the stone fortress that was Durmstrang, though this time, it
was in the dark.
It was indeed a foreboding structure; cold, and seemingly
unwelcoming.
However, when he crossed the threshold, it was to find that the fires
had been lit, and the school itself was not as cold as it had been
during his previous visit.
Now, it was almost as though the school was alive, the flurry of
activity of the students returning having breathed it into
consciousness.
"This way, this way!" a gruff voice commanded.
The main hall where they would seemingly be having meals was
filling up when they were ushered inside.
"Your seat will be marked with your name," the same man explained.
"If your band is on your left, you'll be on the left side of the hall. Find
your seat and take it. Headmaster Karkaroff will wish to speak before
we eat."
Harry nodded and followed the rest of those with the band attached
to the left arm of the uniform, and he managed to find his seat
around halfway down the one table that was reserved for them.
There were five others, all occupied or being filled by those wearing
the band on their right arms.
Harry found himself seated between a boy and a girl, the former
unable to hide the nervousness that was overwhelming him.
The girl was almost stoic, her eerily pale skin and contrasting black
hair the least curious thing about her.
No, it was her eyes that Harry was drawn to.
They were red, and when she noticed him staring, she smirked, and
he got a glimpse of two elongated teeth protruding from her lower lip.
The girl was a vampire of sorts.
Ana had been seated further up the table and she shot Harry a
knowing look.
Harry did not have time to ponder it for long, however as Igor
Karkaroff stood and held his arms wide to call for silence.
The students complied immediately, and his gaze swept across the
breadth of the room.
"Welcome," he loudly enough for his voice to carry to all. "Tonight,
we will feast to celebrate a new year here at Durmstrang, and
tomorrow, our work begins. For our first years, you will have a day of
orientation, so I urge you to eat and drink your fill, and to get as
much sleep as you can."
The man clapped his hands together, and the empty plates and
goblets on the tables filled with an array of food and drink.
There were many dishes that Harry didn't recognise, and he
sampled several, enjoying the experience of the various cuisines on
offer.
"I don't think you should eat that," the nervous boy next to him spoke
as Harry helped himself to a red soup he didn't recognise.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because that is for me," the vampire broke in, grinning as she
nodded towards the bowl of red substance Harry held. "It is blood.
Not very fresh, but still blood."
She proceeded to take the bowl from him and slurp from it loudly,
baring her stained teeth in a satisfied manner.
"It's all yours," Harry replied, vowing to choose his next dish more
carefully. "Are any of these yours?" he asked the boy who shook his
head.
"I eat normal food," he answered.
"Until you get the hunger for flesh when you change," the vampire
interrupted once more. "You're a werewolf. I can smell it on you."
"What if I am?" the boy retorted hotly.
"Bloody hell, you're sitting at the same table, that should be enough
reason for you to not fall out," Harry huffed.
The werewolf boy deflated, nodding his agreement.
The girl merely licked the blood from her teeth before dipping her
finger in the bowl and helping herself to more.
Looking up and down the length of the table, Harry estimated there
was around four hundred students that had been placed here, most
likely only half-bloods like himself, but there were certainly some
interesting-looking others on display.
He would get to know them throughout his time here, but if the glares
being sent their way by the other occupied tables was anything to go
by, his schooling would not go as smoothly as he liked it.
Still, Harry was here to learn what he would need, and he would not
allow any to stand in his way, regardless of what blood flowed
through their veins.