ShadowAI: Hello, me again. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to update so quickly but since Zaion and I had been at it, discussing the various twists and turns I decided I was safe in publishing this so quickly. Also I'm having quite a bit of fun writing this fic, unlike my others it's light-hearted romp and doesn't slow down for the scenery too much, although there are a few moments where I feel some more description could probably help. Oh well. Also I should mention that this chapter is probably the last seriously political one for a while. As much fun as I had actually trying to figure out how the various parties would try to maneuver around each other, this fic is mostly about Harry and the chaos he brings with him so there will ideally be more of that. Also since while writing this I felt myself slip into the familiar territory of Manipulative!Dumbledore I now feel the need to say this. While, yes, he will be manipulative here, and I will call Mrs. Rowling out on some of the stuff she pulled (I'm looking at you Deathly Hallows) it is not my intent to simply bash Dumbledore, nor will Ukraine be presented as a magical (ha ha ha) solution to the problem of Harry's childhood. Ok I'm done ranting, now go read, shoo shoo.
Zaion: Greetings and welcome to another installment of Anarchy in the UK. As you may or may not have noticed there has been a shocking absence of jam. I apologize for this oversight, but I assure you that your patience shall be rewarded. Well, maybe, if the solicitors ever agree to settle on the therapy bills for the little ponce…*voice drifts off into random grumbling.*
ShadowAI: Hey, I thought we weren't supposed to mention that particular incident.
Disclaimer: Yes, there are wizard Discos. No, you don't want to know.
Chapter Two: In which Harry Potter has a Rather Strange Day.
Harry walked out of the little side room into the large dining hall of Hogwarts, his mind still processing the events that just passed. In the span of the last two hours, he had been taken from his room in Durmstrang, whisked all the way across Europe to the United Kingdom, and sat through a very tense discussion between Dima's dad, his uncles, Highmaster Karkaroff, and several other very important people. In short, Harry Potter has had a rather strange day.
In sharp contrast to the latest events, Harry's day started rather normally. He woke up at seven, had breakfast at eight, and attended classes until four in the afternoon. Dueling and Defense had been rather boring today due to the class being a dry lecture on Banshees. His Spellwork class, however, had been quite fun as they had learned the summoning charm, a spell which Harry had learned a year ago. To amuse himself he had 'failed' several attempts to summon the marbles they were practicing with, causing them to hit other people instead. In particular, he had combined the summoning charm with a very discreet levitation charm that caused a small marble to shoot into some poor kid's nose. The poor boy's comical attempts to blow the marble out of his nose had provided Harry with quite a bit of entertainment.
After classes Harry had eaten lunch, and returned to his room to nap and wait for six o'clock. Twice a week, Harry and his closest friends had met in private in an old, drafty, and unused room in the castle's basement to conduct the secret meetings of the Durmstrang Chapter of the Marauders. Today's meeting had been quite productive despite the absence of two members, one official and one honorary. Harry had even presented his idea for a potential Christmas prank involving animation charms, fire-breathing potion, a cow, and the Durmstrang choir. There were some concerns from Ed about the difficulty of executing a choreographed waltz by three dozen burning trees but Harry had assured him the spells were trivial enough so long as they didn't try to do anything too fancy. Sadly, the logistical issue of getting a cow into Durmstrang caused them to file the plan away as a 'backup' under the name "Operation Panic at the Disco."
After the meeting had adjourned, Harry returned to his room, where he and his roommate Constantine worked through their Language class essay on their summer vacation. The essay was a dreadful bore and it was always assigned to them in Language class at the beginning of every year to gauge their writing ability. As Harry was still daydreaming about dancing trees instead of doing his homework, he was interrupted by an abrupt: "Harry Mavros."
Harry stopped writing. The person who had just spoken was Head Administrator Lisiewicz the acting Highmaster while Highmaster Karkaroff was away in Britain for the Triwizard Tournament. Both Highmaster Karkaroff and H.A. Lisiewicz had never particularly liked Harry, mostly because whenever there was any sort of trouble it tended to be related to him, not without good reason. Harry had taken it upon himself to shake up the school's status quo where children from wealthy and influential families managed to get away with murder. The complaining from parents of children, such as those that could not handle being turned purple in the middle of their valedictorian speech while their clothes suddenly turned into a ballerina costume, had given both Karkaroff and Lisiewicz constant migraines.
More than startled or intimidated, Harry had been confused. He had done nothing so far that would have merited the acting Highmaster to come for him personally. Certainly neither Al nor Ed would have tried to do anything notable on their own, nor had their hideout been discovered as Harry would have known. Perhaps someone else had pulled a prank and Harry was on the short list of suspects? As Harry mused on the prospects of a potential rival, and he would need one since Krum would be graduating, Lisiewicz ordered Harry to follow him to the Highmaster's office. Harry had spent the quiet seven minute walk through the dark corridors of Durmstrang thinking back on his actions since the start of the year and even on pranks pulled off in the past three years to determine if there was anywhere he could have slipped up. Certainly some of his earlier pranks were not as airtight, but given how long it's been Harry doubted they were the reason behind this situation. Furthermore, it would be Karkaroff more than Lisiewicz who would be trying to figure out the unsolved cases of Harry's earlier pranks since it was Karkaroff who got yelled at by parents of angry students.
The fourth floor of the Durmstrang castle was dedicated to the offices and living quarters for all of the faculty and faculty apprentices. The halls were larger, brighter, cleaner, and better decorated. While not a constant visitor here, Harry had been to the sixth floor several times in his three going on four years at Durmstrang. Only occasionally had they been pleasant visits. Having not come up with any explanation for his summons, Harry began to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable interrogation. Harry had learned early on that swallowing his pride was a better tactic than stubborn resistance. The Durmstrang faculty had little patience for childish rebellion and generally looked down on its students, not to mention the fact that they were not above using violence if frustrated enough. Harry had learned that if he looked intimidated enough, cried, and babbled incoherently he would leave the office faster and with fewer bruises then if he tried to outlast the professors. He had not done this on only one occasion to date and only on a matter of principle.
As they reached the end of the slightly better-lit faculty corridor, Lisiewicz opened the doors of the Highmaster office. An out-of-place yet familiar scent of strong piney tea reached Harry's nose, comforting him. He had grown used to that smell as it was always present in Dima's father's office. Although somewhat calmed, a new sense of worry began to arise when the door closed behind him and the significance of the occupants of the Highmaster's office sunk in. Although travel between the magical nations in Eastern Europe was easier than in Western Europe, it was still uncommon and strictly regulated. Neither Dima's dad nor Harry's uncles visited him often in Durmstrang and to see all of them gathered in the Highmaster's office along with the Ukrainian Prime Minister had set of red flags in Harry's brain. Either he was in trouble, or-
"Is Dima all right?" Harry blurted out, worried that something bad happened to one of his best friends.
"Relax Harry," Mr. Nizin said as he sipped his tea. "Dmitry is quite healthy." He then chuckled oddly, as if the situation was anything but funny. "If anything he probably finds the recent turn of events amusing." He added, with only barely an accent noticeable in his smooth German.
Harry relaxed a bit, if Dima was fine then there was no immediate danger. Still, it meant that Harry himself had been the reason behind this gathering. Harry looked around the room to get some idea of how much trouble he was in. Mr. Nizin, as always, looked calm and collected as he slowly sipped his tea. Harry had never seen the man act surprised or angry or sad. Dima had told Harry that even at home his dad acted that way. Prime Minister Timoshenko simply looked irritated. Harry had never met or spoken with the man so he didn't know if it was a bad thing or a really bad thing. With a mental chuckle harry noted that the Prime Minister was eating a rather delicious looking raspberry Danish which he had undoubtedly brought with him. Jam had been phased out of the Durmstrang's kitchens since Harry's second year.
Harry turned his attention to his uncles and he felt his heart skip a beat. Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony were always cheerful. Even when it was "that time of the month" as Uncle Padfoot put it, Uncle Moony had merely looked tired but was still cracking jokes. Now they looked like they did every year on Halloween. If they didn't think this was a laughing matter, then things were really bad.
"Although I don't think it's necessary," Mr. Nizin's voice caused harry to flinch, "I still have to ask. Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"
Harry blinked, that sounded familiar. Racking his brain he suddenly remembered the conversation he had with Toshi and Dima a week and a half ago at their last Marauder meeting before the two left for Britain with the rest of the Tri-Wizard hopefuls. The goblet, Dima told him, was used to choose the participants. If the situation had been slightly more relaxed Harry would have laughed the idea off. While it would certainly be an interesting prank, it would also put him in the spotlight, not to mention make him travel all the way to Britain. Harry did not want to do that.
"No sir, I didn't" Harry said somewhat quietly to keep his voice from trembling.
"Thank you Harry, I didn't think you would." Mr. Nizin said smoothly.
"That's it?" High Administrator Lisiewicz spoke up, "This school and your country's reputations are on the line and you will simply take him at his word?"
"Yes." Mr. Nizin replied without changing his tone, "Not only is my son a close friend of Harry's, but I have come to know him and his guardians quite well myself, better than you ever will Mr. Lisiewicz. So you can take comfort in the fact that if I feel Harry is telling us the truth, then he probably is." Although Mr. Nizin didn't sound the least bit angry, Harry heard the man behind him gulp. "Besides," he added, "even if Harry had somehow managed to enter himself into the tournament, he would not be foolish enough to do it under his real name."
It was Harry's turn to gulp as he suddenly felt his throat dry up. Only a handful of people knew that his name wasn't real. Even fewer people knew what his real name was. If the name 'Harry Potter' appeared anywhere, much less in front of the heads of three of the most prominent wizarding schools in Europe, it would cause the old rumors to resurface and with that the threat of Harry being forced to move somewhere else became very real.
"I see you understand the situation." Mr. Nizin spoke, startling Harry. Dima's father had an unnerving ability to tell what Harry was thinking even without Leglimency. "Unfortunately we have no choice but to take you to Britain immediately. Now that the jig is up, so to speak, we would be better off if we came clean." Harry nodded, not sure if that was also directed to him as a life lesson of sorts. "Is the portkey ready?" Mr. Nizin asked Lisiewicz.
The Head Administrator, turned around and opened one of the large pine doors before yelling, "Puxov!" Within a few seconds a rather nervous looking young man arrived at the office out of breath. "Is it ready?"
The young man nodded, before producing a plain looking quill which Lisiewicz took from him. "The password is 'Durmstrang'." He added before turning around and leaving quickly without being dismissed. Lisiewicz closed the door and handed the quill to Mr. Nizin, who stood up along with everyone else who was previously seated.
"What is it?" Harry had asked, although he had a few guesses already.
"An international portkey to the outskirts of Hogwarts in Scotland." Mr. Nizin answered. "Normally rather difficult to procure, but given the rather sensitive situation, the process had been expedited. Is everyone ready?" Harry nodded, though he wasn't ready in the least. "Good, gather round, and make sure you are holding on to someone." Sirius stood on Harry's left and placed a hand on Harry's left shoulder, while Remus took up a similar spot to Harry's right. With a final look around the small circle, Mr. Nizin nodded and clearly intoned: "Durmstrang." Then Harry felt the familiar sensation of a portkey tugging him by his belly.
Having experienced portkey travel several times before Harry barely stumbled as they landed. The first thing Harry noticed as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness was that Scotland was pleasantly breezy and that Harry didn't even need his heavy parka while he was outside. The second thing he noticed was that waiting for them were a dozen or so rather serious looking men wearing blue robes and the Ukrainian trident stitched in yellow on their chests. Aurors.
"Erast Petrovich." Mr. Nizin said with a smile as he stepped forward extending his hand and switching to Russian. "It's good to see you again. I trust your trip to the Land of the Rising Sun had been pleasant?"
The man being addressed, a rather young looking brown-haired man in his late twenties, stepped forward taking Mr. Nizin's hand and shaking it. "It was rather p-pleasant Nikolai Andreievich." The man named Erast responded. Upon getting a closer look, Harry had noted that the man had gray hairs near his temples. "There was a French d-diplomat that arrived an hour earlier. He asked me to s-send you his regards." He added with a slight stutter. Harry wasn't sure if the man was simply cold or always spoke that way.
"Well, good to see Jean-Pierre has agreed to come." Mr. Nizin said. "Although I suspect he really took it as an excuse to congratulate his daughter on becoming the Beauxbatons champion personally. Still, with him there the British will have to play nice, something I know their Minister doesn't like doing. Shall we go then?" The Ukrainian aurors spread out and encircled the group and together they began walking toward the castle.
As they were about to enter Hogwarts through the gate a rather large figure approached them. Standing somewhere between eight and nine feet tall and carrying a lantern stood a rather imposing bearded miniature giant. He stopped in front of them and swept his eyes over the entire Ukrainian party. As Harry was studying the man he noticed that the man's eyes settled on him. After a few awkward moments the freakishly tall man spoke.
"Wouldn'ta recognized him if it were'n fer his eyes. They look jus' like Lily's." Harry's English had never been particularly good, and he had been planning to take Russian as his second language requirement until Dima convinced him to take English. So the man's accent combined with the fact that he had been chewing over the words as he spoke made the tall man very difficult for Harry to understand. Harry caught the word 'eyes' and his mother's name and frowned. "Righ' then, I'll be takin' him to Dumbledore." The man spoke a bit more clearly. Harry's eyes narrowed at the mention of Dumbledore. Harry's opinion of Dumbledore wasn't particularly high since it was Dumbledore's fault he had been forced to live with them. Harry might not have perfectly understood the giant man's words but he understood his intent and took an instinctive step back as the tall man stepped toward him.
"May I ask, who you are, exactly?" For the first time this evening Harry heard the Prime Minister speak. His English was even more accented than the bearded man's, although Harry could understand the thick Ukrainian accent better.
"Oh yes, almost forgot, Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of the grounds and keys of Hogwarts." The tall man said drawing himself up.
"I see." The Prime Minister said, stepping forward in front of the group. Suddenly Harry regretted not bringing his parka. "Well Rubeus Hagrid, let me explain to you my situation. An hour ago my aide interrupts a very important Parliamentary hearing to tell me that British Government is demanding we surrender to them Harry Potter. For last hour I have been making calls, writing letters, and rescheduling my entire week so I can come here and tell the half-senile crackpot that runs this school that just because he cannot maintain order, does not mean my government will hand over legitimate citizens of Ukraine on a whim."
Hagrid's eyes narrowed, "Dumbledore is a great wizard." He began, voice dangerously low, "greater tha' you and all the witches an' wizards in yer sorry country combined." Harry winced, bad move, "An' nobody insults Albus Dumbledore in front of me." The giant barked the last word for emphasis and raised, what looked like, a pink umbrella.
The Prime Minister, unmoving, stared down a man who was at least a head taller than him. When he next spoke, Harry shivered, "And nobody," he hissed, "makes a fool out of me. You will either move out of my way, or I will move you personally." Harry had barely missed it as the Prime Minister drew his wand. They stood tense for a few seconds, before Hagrid slowly stepped to the side. As they walked past Hagrid, Harry noticed that the man kept his eyes on Harry and his uncles. It unnerved Harry and he walked quickly to make sure he was out of the man's sight as fast as possible.
A two minute walk later they had entered Hogwarts and were in the main hallway in front of a large marble staircase. They wheeled left and approached a pair of beautiful giant doors. As they were about to enter Mr. Nizin stopped Harry and pulled him aside while motioning for everyone to stop. "Harry." The man began quietly in Russian, "Dima tells me you have come up with a sign language?" Harry nodded dumbly. "Good, so when we go in there I propose we have a code." He lifted his left arm and showed Harry a metallic band with a square in the middle and some odd lines. "If I am adjusting my wristwatch then no matter what anyone says, do not speak. Wait, and let someone else answer any questions that are asked." Harry nodded in understanding and Mr. Nizin continued. "If, however, I adjust my glasses," he demonstrated by pushing the horn-rimmed glasses up his nose, "then it means you can talk. When you do, make your answers short, truthful, and most importantly confident. Don't ever let them doubt you." Again, Harry nodded and Mr. Nizin smiled reassuringly before walking back toward the rest of the group. "After you Vladimir Mikhailovich" he said and to the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister grunted in response and nodded for the aurors to open the door.
While they stood in the main hall of the castle, Harry could hear conversation coming from the other side of the double doors. As soon as the doors opened, however, all conversation ceased. As Harry stared toward the enormous banquet hall and the large of amount of people sitting and standing in the room he felt his feet wobble a bit. The aurors entered the room first, followed by the two Ukrainian officials. Harry hesitated, not particularly eager to be at the center of attention of all those people. He felt a hand slowly nudge him from behind and noticed that Uncle Padfoot was pushing forward. With a shaky breath Harry slowly entered the giant room.
As soon as Harry had entered the large hall he had a miniature panic attack as he felt everyone's gaze turn to him. It was very unnerving and Harry felt his lips dry up. There whole place was packed with students of various ages, not unlike Durmstrang's dining hall. The scale, however, was much larger. Harry quickly found the table where everyone seated had been dressed in Durmstang's red and black uniforms. Although Harry did not know most of the students there, the sight of the familiar fur-lined jackets was a small comfort in a sea of unfamiliar students. Harry first started searching for Toshi, as his distinct hairstyle would make him easier to find. To Harry's slight disappointment he was nowhere to be seen, however he noticed Dima's familiar gray eyes staring at him from the middle of the table. Harry had seen Dima's current expression before, usually after Harry had pulled a rather flashy prank. He was outwardly passive but inwardly amused.
Harry blinked twice hoping that Dmitry might give him an appraisal of the situation. Dima blinked twice in response, affirming that they could 'talk'. Harry rubbed his left arm in a signal that meant that he was wrongfully accused. Harry almost didn't catch Dima's nod in response. Dima then ran his fingers through his hair. The non-verbal system had been partially designed in case they were caught so they could plan a course of action without incriminating themselves. Naturally these conversations were meant to take a few seconds so that no one would catch on. Blinking twice, already feeling they had spent too long communicating, Harry ended the conversation and turned in the same direction as the adults he came here with.
At the end of the hall opposite to the doors stood an elevated table surrounded by several serious looking figures, some of them were wearing heavy robes similar to the ones worn by the Ukrainian aurors only light grey. Standing in front of all of them was a giant golden cup with blue flames shooting out of it. Over to one side of the room, Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye, stood three students each wearing one of the schools' uniforms. Harry did not have time to make any of them out as his eyes focused on goblet and the rather tense collection of adults eyeing the Ukrainian delegation.
A somewhat short, grey-haired, man dressed in a pinstripe suit and a bowler hat stepped forward, eyes narrowed and looking to Harry's left, and exclaimed, "Sirius Black!" Harry tensed. Harry knew full well why Uncle Sirius had changed his name to Mavros and adopted Harry under the assumed name and that should Sirius ever set foot on British soil there was a good chance he would be sent back to the prison he was kept in. The man in the bowler then looked over to Mr. Nizin and ordered the men in the grey robes, whom Harry reasoned to be British aurors, to arrest Sirius. The Ukrainian aurors moved to screen Harry and the diplomats when the Prime Minister stepped forward and, for the second time tonight, confronted a threat.
As the Ukrainian diplomats and the man in the bowler, the Prime Minister had called him Fudge, began a rather heated argument, Harry used all of his self-control not to reach for his wand. If British aurors were as good as the Ukranian ones then Harry would probably set them off by grabbing it, despite his instincts screaming at him to arm himself. Meanwhile the argument switched topics from Sirius Black to Harry, and after Mr. Nizin said that Harry had come with his uncle voluntarily he once again felt the eyes of the room looking at him. Of course Harry left willingly, Britain held nothing but bad memories for him, and if anything Harry had wished Sirius would have rescued him earlier.
"Is this true Harry?" A very old looking man wearing silver robes with a rather impressive beard had addressed him in a quiet tone. Harry turned to the speaker, hesitating. He knew the man had to be Dumbledore as the old wizard had been described to Harry by several people. "Did you go with Sirius because you wanted to?" Dumbledore asked. Harry fought desperately the urge to tell the old fool to shove it. Instead Harry stole a glance at Mr. Nizin, who had been adjusting his glasses at the time.
Harry then shifted his glare back to Dumbledore, trying to come up with something political to say that conveyed how he really felt about the bastard that had sent him to live with the Dursleys. Dumbledore's eyes stared into his own from beyond his half-moon spectacles. They were similarly distant to those of Mr. Nizin. Mr. Nizin, however had not condemned Harry to four years of misery living with people who could not stand your existence and without any idea why. Despite all the various things he wanted to scream at the bearded man Harry settled on "Yes Sir." Not trusting himself to keep his composure beyond that. A wave of furious whispers broke out as he said it, and Dumbledore had actually seemed sad for a moment. Harry was not entirely unsure it had been his imagination though.
The argument continued for another minute before, at the suggestion of the French minister, everyone involved except the aurors went into a small room which had several odd trinkets and various moving instruments. The various parties arranged themselves in a circle and stood quietly waiting to see who will yield the floor.
"Nikolai, I am a bit curious as to why your country has offered to shelter Sirius Black all these years without informing anyone." Said one of the British officials in a more respectful tone than Fudge.
"It was a rather difficult decision on my part, however Mr. Black's case was brought to me by a mutual friend and after an investigation I had believed that Mr. Black is not anything like the criminal he had been made out to be. I felt it my duty to help a fellow wizard in need." Mr. Nizin said smoothly before adding. "In fact, as you can clearly see he has been a dutiful guardian of young Harry."
"Except of course he enrolled him into Durmstrang." Spat Fudge.
"Are you trying to insinuate something about my school, Minister?" Karkaroff asked.
"What I think Cornelius meant," Dumbledore said cutting off Fudge, "was that considering Harry's heritage, it was rather impulsive and ill-advised for Sirius to abduct Harry regardless of good intentions."
Harry glared at Dumbledore. Was the old man not content until he was miserable? A quick glance at Mr. Nizin told Harry to keep his mouth shut.
"Ill-advised Albus?" Sirius spoke up angrily, "Did you even see the state the boy was in when I found him?"
"I assure you Mr. Black I had been keeping my eye on the boy to make sure he was not in any danger."
"Danger from who?"
"I had feared, and still continue to fear the remnants of Voldemorts forces. His most fanatical followers are still around as the World Cup has shown. Although I do not doubt your commitment to keep Harry safe I am not convinced that if Voldemort's followers discover Harry's whereabouts that the protection he currently has will be enough."
"Are you implying that we would need your help dealing with the rabble from a Dark Lord when your country had barely survived one not so long ago?" The Prime Minister spoke up. "While our country may not be as big as powerful as Britain, we still have a highly efficient government that can stamp out any of your Dark Lord's followers should they start causing trouble within our borders."
"Forgive me I did not mean to imply that Ukraine was weak, I had merely assumed that after Chernobyl," Dumbledore said defensively.
"That was an accident." The Prime Minister hissed.
"Yes, a very tragic one. Still it goes to show that we are not all as powerful as we would like ourselves to believe." The Prime Minister glared in response but did not say anything.
After a second of silence Mr. Nizin spoke up. "Still, I do think we have done a rather good job given the circumstances. Harry is happy, healthy, and has led a rather content childhood. I do not think you can ask for more Headmaster."
"Indeed, I had been concerned for Harry's safety ever since he vanished from Britain and I am relieved to hear that he is doing well." Dumbledore said, "Still I am a bit disappointed that Harry never had the chance to learn magic from the same school that taught his parents. I'm sure they would have wanted that." Harry gritted his teeth. The old man was trying to get him back to Britain. Not to mention he was using his parents as a weapon when, according to Sirius, Harry's parents never meant for Harry to live with the Dursleys in the first place. Harry had once again barely restrained the urge to yell at Dumbledore when he looked over at Mr. Nizin who had been rubbing his watch.
"Zis is well and good but I think ze issue of two Durmstrang champions should be addressed?" A tall woman, taller than even Hagrid had been, spoke up.
"Ah but Madame Maxime, I 'ave full faith zat my daughter will come out on top even if zere were three Durmstrang champions. I am 'owever concerned about young 'Arry participating in such a dangerous event." A short, by comparison, man spoke up in a thick French accent. Harry had assumed this was the French diplomat that the auror had mentioned earlier.
"Indeed Albus," Highmaster Karkaroff spoke up, "I too am rather troubled that one of my students now risks his life because your protections on the goblet were inadequate. Surely there is some way to remove him as a champion?"
Rather than Dumbledore, a well-dressed man with a mustache spoke up, "I'm afraid the goblet's decision is final. Harry is obliged by a magical contract to participate." Harry nearly bit his tongue to stop himself from screaming at the absurdity of the fact that a slip of parchment had somehow bound him to a magical contract when he wasn't even on the same landmass as the goblet.
"It looks like Harry will have to remain here at Hogwarts for the duration of the year I'm afraid." Harry doubted Dumbledore was anything but satisfied with this turn of events and would have done nothing to help reverse it. "Still, I'm sure it will be a wonderful learning experience for Harry. While he's here I think he can even visit his former guardians," Harry's hands clenched into fists instantaneously, "I am sure they will want to know that he is doing well." Dumbledore's words were buzzing around his head causing Harry to feel nauseous. Visit them? Harry looked, rather indiscreetly at Mr. Nizin, almost daring the man to rub his watch, Mr. Nizin had turned his head slightly to look at Harry before adjusting his glasses.
"Visit them? You want me to visit them?" Harry said,
"Harry, it is important that you renew the prot-"
"The only reason I would visit people who have locked me in a cupboard, beat me, starved me, and called me 'freak' for four years is so I could kill them." Harry said probably sounding somewhat insane at the moment. He had wondered in the back of his mind if he had said too much, especially after the room fell silent again. When Harry saw the look of shock on Dumbledore's face he felt very satisfied.
"I think that unless Harry changes his mind, it is best that he is returned to Durmstrang and his home in Ukraine when this tournament is over." Mr. Nizin said Harry's threats of murder not affecting him in the slightest.
Dumbledore nodded, but said nothing.
"Well, if that is all." Prime Minister Timoshenko began.
"Actually, I think that since Harry is not as prepared as the other champions," Dumbledore began, "I propose he takes classes here at Hogwarts for the duration of his stay. It would be a good learning opportunity and Harry can spend the year furthering his education. If that is all right with you Igor?"
Highmaster Karkaroff thought for a moment then answered. "As you know Durmstrang has a different policy when it comes to its classes. I am not convinced this is the best option, I can bring in a tutor-"
"Nonsense," Fudge cut him off, "I think it's a capital idea. You said it yourself Karkaroff this is a dangerous tournament and why send for tutors when Harry can get a top rate education here?"
Harry was about one straw short of hexing Britain's Minister of Magic politics be damned, when Mr. Nizin struck the final blow. "On one condition." Harry openly stared at Mr. Nizin, who looked back for a moment and blinked twice, ending the silent discussion. "I would feel better knowing that some of Harry's schoolmates were with him to keep him company. If you will permit it, Highmaster, I think it would be best if you could arrange for Harry's friends to study with him as an exchange program of sorts."
Karkaroff sighed, "If they will want to come, I suppose it can be arranged."
Dumbledore nodded, "Very well, I see no harm in that."
Harry felt tired, not just because he had been on his feet the last couple of minutes but the adrenaline from the stress of having his past dug up began to drain out leaving Harry wanting nothing more than to rest. The rest of the room, save for a few people, shared Harry's state of fatigue. With the matter settled, everyone had exited the side room to the now mostly deserted dining hall.
Although Harry felt physically tired, his mind had begun to process the situation. Over the course of the evening he had been involved in a political showdown between two countries that revolved around him. He was also declared a participant in a difficult and possibly dangerous tournament. Lastly, he was now stuck for the duration of the year in Britain against his will. Indeed today had been a strange day for Harry Potter. Still, thanks to the last minute suggestion by Mr. Nizin, Harry would soon be reunited with Ed and Al bringing the marauders back to full strength, and it had after all been established as the motto of the Durmstrang Marauders: Mache Tag für Tag Seltsamer. Make every day stranger. That thought lifted his spirits. Even if he was stuck in Britain, he would make the most of it by making Hogwarts regret having him there. As Harry approached the large doors leading outside the dining hall he took one last look around and a thought struck him.
They could fit four dozen Christmas trees in here.
End.