Chapter One

Harry fidgeted in line, feeling constricted by the stiff fabric of his uniform. His normal clothing had been replaced by a starch gray set, and it was probably the newest thing to ever touch his seven year old skin. He wasn't the only one restless; the entire line of orphans moved in some way or another.

When the Matron slammed open the doors, all movement stopped and everybody stood straight and tall, even Kevin Heeler, known for his rambunctiousness. Harry, who was too short to see past the other children next to him, wanted to lean forward and look at what was going on, but knew better than to try.

It wouldn't do to miss the biggest adoption day of the year.

Suddenly the Matron spoke. "Today we are welcoming twenty families into our walls, where you will be evaluated and, hopefully, adopted." Her tone was stern, and he could hear her coming nearer to where he was standing. "I expect the best from you. Anyone caught misbehaving or tarnishing our reputation will be punished severely." Here she paused in front of Harry, looking directly at him. Harry tensed, and swore to himself that he would be a proper angel, if only to avoid the Matron and her harsh discipline.

She spun around on her heel, dark gray dress swirling around her toes. "Let them in!" she called, and the large wooden doors of Saint Anne's Orphanage were opened to the public, and for a moment, Harry allowed himself to hope that today would be the day.

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It had been hours. Harry's feet and back ached from standing so still. Families of all different sizes and shapes had been passing him all day, some glances being thrown his way but most going right past him. The older boy that had stood next to him had been taken to speak with people almost immediately, and a little while ago the girl on his other side had been swooped up. Even Kevin Heeler had been taken in for a meeting, but he had been brought back.

Harry supposed not getting picked at all was better than that, to get excited and then have your dreams crushed by being put back in the line. Personally, Harry had given up hope halfway through and had started hoping that dinner would be nicer than usual, to smooth over the bitter feelings of those left behind.

Harry's dreams of warm carrot soup and bread were interrupted when someone stopped in front of him. He expected to see the Matron when he looked up, but instead his eyes met the face of someone entirely new.

"You. Boy," the man said, words tinged in an unfamiliar accent. "What is your name?"

"Um, Harry, sir," he replied, hesitantly. His mind seemed to have stopped working. Someone was talking to him? On an adoption day?

"You sound unsure. Do you not know your own name?" The man sneered down at him. That snapped Harry out of his trance.

"Of course I know my name! My name is Harry," he said once again, much more confidently.

The man grinned, showing off his yellow teeth. "There, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He turned around. "You there! Matron! I'm taking this one!"

Harry's jaw dropped, though he quickly pulled himself together. Who was this stranger, who could yell at the stern Matron? Why would he pick Harry, of all of the strong boys available?

The Matron must have had the same thoughts running through her own head. "Are you positive, sir? This one can be quite the troublemaker, and we have plenty of young boys who-"

"Are you questioning me? I said I'd take this one and that's all there is to it. Go fetch those blasted papers before I just take him and leave! I have more important things to do than deal with the likes of you."

Harry was in awe. Nobody commanded the Matron!

The man who would be adopting Harry turned to look at him. "Go fetch your things boy. We haven't got all day."

Harry nodded his head and practically ran upstairs to the room he shared with three other boys around his age, noticing that only one other bed had been cleared off. He grabbed the satchel they used to carry their homework assignments and Bible in and put his working clothes and church clothes in, and grabbed his book and stuffed bear. He didn't have many other things, but hopefully his new family would allow him to have more toys and books and clothes!

He was back downstairs in an instant, just in time to see the stern man sign off on a stack of papers. The man, who Harry really should ask the name of, saw him and gestured for him to come stand nearby. When Harry got there, the Matron looked down at him.

"Harry, I would like you to meet Mister Igor Karkaroff. He's going to be taking care of you. I expect you to always be on your best behavior for him, and to bring honor to our institution."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for taking care of me," Harry said dutifully.

The man, Karkarit or something, snorted. "Well, as it appears we are done here, my ward and I will be leaving. Come, Harry."

And Harry ran to keep up with his long strides. After they exited the building, he peered up at his new caretaker.

"Mister Karkoff, what're we going to do now?"

He looked down at Harry and sneered. "First of all, it's Karkaroff. You will address me as sir unless otherwise indicated. Do you understand me, child?" Harry nodded quickly, eager to please. "And secondly, we are going to fetch your wand. No ward of mine will be without one."

This is when Harry stopped walking. "What?"

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Three Years Later…

"Harrison! Are you paying attention?"

"Yes sir!" Harry answered truthfully.

"Then what did I just say?"

"That I must start seeing my tutors more in the coming months so I will be as prepared as possible for my education, and that I must not embarrass you when I begin my studies."

Things had changed a lot for little Harry in the past few years. Karkaroff had not beat around the bush, and had introduced Harry to magic within the very first hour of his adoption, and Harry had been eager to learn. He lived with his caretaker in a manor in Russia, very different from the small quarters he had kept in the orphanage. Karkaroff himself had taught Harry that first summer, and every summer after, but the rest of the time Harry stayed by himself in the large mansion while his adopted father was at the school. It could be very lonely, but he occupied himself with learning more about the amazing world of magic that he had been made aware of.

Karkaroff, while stern and strict, took good care of Harry, and made sure that he was living up to his full potential even though he was not yet in school. Harry had many tutors and was praised for being able to understand magical theory at a higher level than other children his age. Harry could tell Karkaroff was proud of his achievements and couldn't wait until he could go to Durmstrang and compare himself to other students.

Right now, though, it was the end of December, and Harry's caretaker was home for a short while to see how he was progressing in his studies.

The man in question nodded. "Yes. You are doing well in your theoretical work, but your practical abilities could use some improvement. I desire to see you at the top of your class this coming fall, and I fear you are becoming overconfident. You must never underestimate your competition, Harrison."

Harry nodded, then hesitated. "Sir, are my classmates really my competition? Shouldn't we work together, to learn even more?"

Igor looked down at his ward. "You still have much to learn about the world, child. You must be the best in everything that you do to be successful. Stand out amongst your peers. Be vicious in your studies. Never let your guard down. There are people out there who want nothing more than to see you fail. To see our family fail. Will you grant them their wish?"

Harry's eyes lit up. "Of course not sir! I will be the best, I promise!"

Igor chuckled. "I believe it. I've known from the start that you are capable of doing great things, boy. Now, let us go to the foyer. I believe some hot chocolate would do us both some good." He put his arm around Harry's shoulders and guided him back inside.

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"The portkey will activate at precisely six o'clock, Harrison. Don't trouble yourself with the trunk, the elves will take it to your room. Make sure to comb your hair as well! Never forget the importance of a first impression! And-"

"Sir, with all due respect, we've been preparing for this since we met. Don't worry so much," Harry gave Karkaroff a charming smile.

Igor sighed. "I know, I know. I just hope, for your sake, you do not forget your lessons. You must have the best marks of your fellow students."

"And I will. You must go now, you have to prepare for the welcome. I will see you then."

Igor gave a stiff nod. Then, without warning, pulled Harry into his arms. As far as hugs go, it was pretty awkward, neither being very affectionate people, but it meant the world to Harry, who could not remember ever receiving one.

After a moment, Igor stepped back and gripped Harry by the forearms. "I am proud of you Harrison. You will become a great wizard. I am as sure of it now as I was when I first saw you." Then he left, and Harry almost wished he had stayed to see him off.

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"Welcome to Durmstrang Institute!" The smiling older student proclaimed. "I am the Head Boy for this school year. My name is Albert Ivanof. One of my many duties as Head Boy is to prepare you for the welcoming ceremony. Here is how it works. When your name is called, you will walk through this corridor to the arch on the other side. When you exit the corridor, your name and sector will be called out. Sectors are divided by what your magic has the most potential for, so don't worry too much about it, eh?" He grinned at a group of giggling girls near the front of the group.

"The rest will be explained to you by a sector leader afterwards. Now, let's get down to business. Abakumov, Liza!"

A young girl with dark brown hair hesitantly walked through the door. As soon as she was in, Harry couldn't see her at all, which just added to the mystery.

Names kept getting called, and Harry felt more nervous with each person that disappeared into the corridor, though he knew he looked as unfazed as ever.

Finally, his name was called.

"Karkaroff, Harrion!" Harry didn't even notice the way Ivanof hesitated at his name. Instead, he swallowed his fears and walked through the doorway, into the unknown.

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"HARRISON KARKAROFF, ORDER OF PERIAN!"

It echoed through the huge dining hall that Harry had passed into, and a table near the back cheered loudly for him, telling him where to go. Doing his best to keep his legs from trembling, Harry took an empty seat at the table and quickly glanced at the head table. Karkaroff met his eyes, and Harry was pleased to see the smirk on his face. Content that he hadn't messed up somehow, he turned around to look at the door he had just come through, ready to welcome more people into his own Order.

After the rest of the names were called, Harry looked around the huge stone room. It was cold and lonely, despite the rowdy crowd of students. And somehow, it felt just like home.

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"What classes should I add to my schedule this year, sir?" A second, nearly third year Harrison Karkaroff asked his adoptive father. He had not changed much. He was still short and slim, but his hair had grown out enough where it could be tamed, which satisfied both of them very much. Messy hair was very unsophisticated.

"Which ones are you interested in, boy?" Igor Karkaroff had not changed either. He still only accepted the finest of work from his ward, and pushed him to be the best. It worked, too. Harrison was first in his class and received perfect marks.

"I like the sound of Rituals and Ceremonies, and International Magical Societies, and Battle Magic." Harrison answered promptly. He only saw his caretaker a few times a year, even though they both were at Durmstang now. Karkaroff was much too busy to be bothered most of the time.

"Those all sound acceptable. I believe you should take a fourth elective. Let me see your sheet… Yes, here, you will also take Elemental Magics. It will assist you greatly in your dueling lessons."

Harry looked down at his revised schedule and frowned. "Sir, I am worried I won't be able to keep up my marks with this many classes. It was already a stretch to take three electives…"

Igor grabbed his chin. "Listen to me. You will be taking all four electives. You are not any other student in this school. You are my son, and I know what you are capable of. Now, return to your studies. I expect to hear of great improvement by the end of the week." He released Harrison's face from his grip and returned to his desk, and Harrison made a quick retreat.

Harrison stopped outside of the door and looked down at his schedule again. It would be so much work to simply keep up with so much new material, let alone remain at the top of his class, but….

Harrison could hardly keep the smile off of his face. Karkaroff had called him his son!

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It's the summer before fifth year, and Harrison is lounging in his own personal study, when his Father walks in and snorts at him.

"I see you are making use of your time."

Harrison jerks to his feet. "I'm sorry, sir, I just-"

Igor holds up a hand. "Enough. No excuses. I came to tell you of an… event… taking place this year. I trust you've heard of the Triwizard Tournament?"

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Harrison couldn't believe he was on a boat, underwater, on his way to the great wizarding school of Hogwarts. His father had ranted about Hogwarts enough for him to know that it was a fantastic opportunity, to be able to see another wizarding school.

"You seem excited, Harrison. It's not often I see an emotion cross your face."

Harrison threw a glare at his classmate. "Oh shut it, Viktor."

"I do not think I will. I quite enjoy seeing you so worked up," Viktor Krum, professional Quidditch player and fellow student, stood up. "I believe we will be arriving soon. It would be best if we prepare."

Harrison sighed and rolled elegantly off of his cot, or, as elegantly as one could, with the constant rocking of the ship. 'One can only hope. I can't stand this blasted ship.'

Chapter End

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