Author's Note: I missed this story. This story makes me happy. Well, not the last chapter in particularly... or this one... because people suck... but really, there will be happy feels again, I swear! Plus a Sirius. And who doesn't love Sirius? And, you know, Emil. Lots of Emil in this chapter, because, one, I'm the author and I say so, and two, if I had to get a little more angst out of the way, at least I can have an Emil!

Thank you for blowing up my email account over the last two days with your story 'follows,' made me smile. Enjoy!

-Emmette


CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Harry woke the next morning at his usual time, he was the only one left in the dorm. Considering he was usually the first to wake—and often had to help drag Ron and Seamus bodily from their beds—he didn't think this bode well for him.

He dressed quickly before hurrying down to the Great Hall, anxious to meet the others at breakfast. He knew Ron was upset with him, but maybe if he just tried to explain again… Sadly, any hope of that was dashed almost as soon as he reached the Gryffindor table. Hermione sat across the table from Ron, leaning over as far as she could to whisper furiously at him. The red-head, however, simply shoveled food steadily into his mouth, disregarding whatever she had to say. As Harry approached, Hermione stopped talking abruptly and sank back into her seat with a guilty grimace, only able to meet Harry's questioning gaze for a moment before she hung her head and stared pointedly into her lap.

Harry tried to smile a hello at Ron and the rest of their roommates, but couldn't quite manage it in face of the glares being sent to him in return. His usual spot next to Ron was filled quite pointedly by Seamus Finnigan, and Dean and Neville sat closely on either side of the duo, neither meeting Harry's eyes either. In fact, when Harry moved as though to sit down beside Neville, a few third and fifth years on either side of them slid closer, leaving no space for Harry. Across the table, Lavendar Brown and Parvati Patil crossed their arms and scooched closer to Hermione, bringing several girls from other years in closer as well.

Harry gulped, feeling eyes trained on him from around the hall. He felt momentarily frozen in place, not sure what to do or where to sit, half-tempted to turn and leave the Great Hall altogether. Fred and George were nowhere in sight, not unusual for this early in the morning, and even Ginny had yet to appear, often spending so much time getting ready in the mornings that she was known for grabbing food to go, which she quickly gobbled down on the run to her first class of the day. Just when Harry was reaching the point of awkwardness where he would have been forced to make some sort of move, an unfamiliar, cheerful voice called his name from across the hall.

"Potter! There you are. Sorry we're late, but thanks for waiting on us!" By this time, the attractive, slender young man who had been glued to Viktor's side since their arrival at Hogwarts had reached Harry, half the Durmstrang delegation—and Krum himself—following along a few paces behind. "I'm Emil, Viktor's best friend; just go with it," a quiet voice whispered in Harry's ear as the stranger—Emil, apparently—hid his words by enthusiastically slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders and turning him to face the group. Harry noticed that the other half of the Durmstrang students had continued on to the Slytherin table, though they did seem to shy away from the end where Harry could already see Draco Malfoy ranting… no doubt about him.

The Gryffindor table had grown silent, along with the majority of the rest of the hall, and Harry couldn't quite hold back a flinch at so many eyes trained on him. Viktor saw it, as well as the malicious glare being shot at Harry's back by a red-head he was almost sure was related to the twins. Probably Harry's 'best mate,' then, he thought to himself darkly. He pushed the troubling thought aside for the moment, however, quickly concluding that he needed to get his Little Survivor out of the room as soon as possible.

"Come. Ve break fast on ze ship, no? Ve vere honored vhen you accepted our invitation," Krum spoke strongly into the tense silence of the room, effectively drawing attention away from Harry and onto the Quidditch star. Emil immediately began steering their group of a dozen or so students out of the hall. He understood why Viktor was distracting the Hogwarts students, but he was hoping to keep his friend's brutish public persona in place as long as possible.

As they walked quickly past the curiously whispering witches and wizards, Emil mused over how quickly his classmates had chosen 'sides' in what he internally labeled 'The Harry Debate.' Durmstrang had entered the hall for breakfast as a group, and Viktor—in his typical place at the head of the entourage—had immediately stiffened up at seeing Harry being so blatantly rejected by his friends. Emil had placed a calming hand on his shoulder in an attempt to help him reign in his emotions, but knew immediately that he needed to intervene. "We need to get him out of here. Whoever's willing, play along. Those who aren't, I strongly recommend you behave during your meal," he had muttered, just loud enough to be heard by the twenty or so Durmstrang students, before calling out to Harry and crossing the hall with a falsely cheerful bounce in his step.

He had hoped that a handful of their closest friends would follow them, but had been pleasantly surprised when over half the students joined in without hesitation. Even those who hadn't come along appeared to have chosen an acceptably neutral route, talking quietly amongst themselves at the Slytherin table rather than joining in on any plotting or gossiping.

As soon as they were out of the hall and away from prying eyes, Emil let his arm fall from Harry's shoulders and respectfully stepped back to allow the smaller boy some space. And doesn't that say something, he thought to himself with a rush or concern and protectiveness, that even compared to me he is so tiny.

"Survivor?" Viktor asked quietly, hesitantly stepping forward so he was standing directly in front of the small boy, concern evident in his voice, his expression, and his eyes.

"Thank you," Harry said simply looking up and meeting Viktor's eyes, then sweeping his gaze to Emil and the rest of the Durmstrang students before he lowered his head to stare down at the ground. There was silence after the simple words, and Emil could see that he and Viktor were not the only ones looking at the Boy-Who-Lived with concern. He was practically radiating the pain and defeat he was feeling, and yet he stood still and silent, showing no fear at the intimidating presence of Durmstrang's biggest, strongest students towering over him.

"Well don't thank me just yet," Emil joked wryly, hoping to lighten the somber mood. "I was bluffing out my ass back there; Karkaroff doesn't keep the ship stocked with food. So unless you're carrying a feast around in that knapsack of yours, I'm afraid I've just cost you your breakfast." He had meant the admission to ease the tension in the air, expected some good-natured teasing and exasperation. Instead, he was suddenly pinned by wide, sorrowful eyes and he felt his heart clench momentarily thinking he had hurt this gentle boy. He could already tell that Harry could have he and Viktor both wrapped around his little finger if he wanted. The boy's next words sealed the deal.

"You shouldn't miss a meal over me!" He said in alarm, seemingly disregarding the fact that he, himself, would also be forgoing breakfast. "There's still plenty of time, you should all go back in, you can get something to eat, and—"

"We all knew Emil was full of it with his invitation, Harry Potter; we chose to follow you out of the hall and we will stand by that choice," one of their female year-mates stated, a gentle amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"It is only one meal, we'll feast at lunch in a few hours," another added, shrugging and leaning against the stone wall, purposefully sending out signals of carefree nonchalance over the entire situation. Emil caught Viktor's eye and they both had to look away and hide their grins: they had often said that Durmstrang students were all bred to become teddy bears in disguise. Deadly teddy bears, admittedly, but secretly protective and affectionate none the less.

"I appreciate that, but no one should go hungry; not at Hogwarts," Harry answered, and there was steel in his tone that had Emil looking back at him assessingly. Something about the way he specified that no one should go hungry at the school left Emil with sinking feeling in his stomach. Before he could decide whether or not to say anything about it, however, a sleep-mussed red-head suddenly appeared behind Harry, slumping down over his back and leaving his arms to dangle by Harry's sides, his chin hooked over the smaller boy's shoulders as he mumbled sleepily,

"Was'sat 'bout no food?"

"Why'd we wake up so early if we don't get breakfast?! The pain, the injustice!" An identical red-head lamented dramatically, appearing at Harry's other side, and throwing an arm across his eyes before falling back into Viktor's arms with an over-exaggerated fake swoon. The Bulgarian looked torn between amusement, alarm, and the default expression of scorn he usually adopted in public settings. Emil couldn't help but chuckle at the twins' antics.

"Oi, Fred, get off!" Harry grumbled, and though he rolled his eyes and huffed as he tried to brush the older boy's red hair away from his own eyes, Emil saw that he was fighting back a smile, and the strain that had been held stiffly in his shoulders had melted away. The twin—Fred, apparently—saw where he was looking and shot him a quick wink, revealing for just a moment that he wasn't nearly as sleepy as he appeared. In fact, catching the bright grin that the other red-head shot towards Harry as Krum pushed him back onto his feet, Emil had strong suspicions that the entire episode had been staged simply to lift the small Gryffindor's spirits.

"Alright, seriously though; what has everyone whining about breakfast? You all get yourselves banished from the Great Hall or something?" Fred asked, finally straightening himself up and moving to stand next to his brother. Harry immediately started to look guilty again, and Emil shook his head at the twins from behind Harry's back. They nodded back, then George patted Harry on the shoulder and announced,

"Eh, doesn't matter," he said with a shrug, smoothly steering the conversation away from the uncomfortable questions even as he began to steer Harry down the corridor with a hand on his shoulder. "Who's up for a trip to the kitchens? The house elves are always happy to whip up a tasty treat for visitors." Beside him, Harry visibly lit up at the suggestion, looking back over his shoulder to send a blinding grin in Viktor's direction before looking ahead again to pay attention to where he was going.

Harry and the Durmstrang's looked on with excitement (Harry) and curiosity (everyone else) as Fred and George drew to a halt in front of a painting of fruit before reaching forward with a flourish to…

"Are you tickling a pear?" One of his classmates asked flatly, looking the twins up and down carefully as though suddenly trying to decide if they had all followed a pair of crazy people into the bowels of a strange castle. A moment later, however, the portrait made a sound that could only be described as a giggle, and swung open to reveal a small entry-way into the kitchen. It would be a snug fit for some of the burlier Durmstrang students, especially those still wearing their heavy fur cloaks, but they would all fit.

Emil grew impatient for his turn to squeeze through the doorway as he heard variations of "holy shit!" exclaimed in Russian, Romanian, and Greek. As he finally stepped into the enormous kitchen, he quickly added Bulgarian to the mix. The room mirrored the Great Hall above in dimensions, even going so far as the high vaulted ceilings. Five long tables were arranged exactly below the head table and four house tables, and he watched in fascination as dozens and dozens of elves scurried around replacing platters of breakfast food as they seemed to magically disappear from the constantly shifting platters. On the opposite end of the room from where they had entered, an entire wall was layered with two levels of ovens and stoves, and another flurry of elves cooking there. The two side walls were literally covered with stacks and stacks of pots, pans, platters, silverware, and every other manner of dish and cookware imaginable, arranged on counter-tops, shelves, and pegs. Only the small entryway where they stood remained free of the elvin chaos, instead housing a scattering of small, mismatched tables and chairs, the red-heads already seated comfortably at one of them while grinning openly at their guests' amazement. Emil was just wondering how best to catch one of the busy elves' attention to request some food when a high-pitched squeal (of what might, questionably, be termed delight were it not so piercingly shrill) echoed across the room.

"Harry Potter, sir! You have come to visit Dobby!" With that, an elf with disproportionately large eyes—which were, coincidentally, brimming over with joyful tears at the moment—came pelting across the room. Emil had just enough time to process the garish arrangement of clothing worn by the excitable elf before he saw Harry step forward and kneel down with an amused smile, arms held outstretched just in time for the elf to barrel into them. To the shock and confusion of most of the room, Harry stood easily, the elf held against his hip with one arm as naturally as a parent toting around their toddler, and simply shook his head at the sniffling little creature.

"Dobby! What are you doing here?"

"Dobby works at Hogwarts sir! The Great Albus Dumbledore be giving Dobby a job as a free elf! He be paying Dobby wages and giving him one weekend off every month!" At this point, the small elf's ears drooped slightly and he darted his eyes around nervously before leaning forward to whisper into Harry's ear. In truth, the little creature's voice still carried far enough for all the bemused students watching the scene to hear him, but Harry none the less leant in closer. "He be trying to give Dobby all weekends off, sir, but Dobby be saying that too much. Albus Dumbledore is a great wizard; almost as a great a wizard as Harry Potter sir!" Emil snorted at the deep blush that suddenly covered Harry's face, and he saw that Viktor was biting his lips to hold back laughter.

"If I'm great, it's because I have fantastic friends like you looking out for me," he mumbled back in embarrassment. Then, almost immediately, "Oh shi—Dobby, no, don't cry! It's fine, I—oh bullocks." Still holding the elf in one arm, he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and looked back at the Durmstrang students sheepishly as Dobby sobbed happily into his shoulder, babbling about what a kind and caring wizard he was. Fred and George, the only two comfortable enough around Harry to be outright laughing at him, at least took pity enough to go speak to the other elves about getting food (which they happily and hastily began trotting over to the round tables, much to the Durmstrang students' delight).

Emil watched as Viktor stepped closer to Harry, surprised when his friend held out a hand to the now sniffling elf and introduced himself. The Krum family had two pairs of house elves who they had always treated very well by wizarding standards, but not even Emil would ever think to approach a house elf as one would another witch or wizard… much less an elf who had had the dishonor of being expelled from service by the family it served. Unfortunately, it seemed that his classmates were making some of the same observations, but more vocally. Harry (who had been grinning at Viktor as he made introductions for Dobby and set the elf back on his own feet) went suddenly still and silent as voices floated over from one of the Durmstrang tables.

"…never seen anyone touch a house-elf, do you think…" "…called him a 'friend,' you heard that, right? What do you…" "…free elf. How disgraceful; don't know why they aren't just put down at that point…" An ominous tingling crept up Emil's spine just before the light in the kitchen flickered. There were gasps, and he whipped his head around to see Harry, glaring across the room and radiating power, an invisible breeze whipping his bangs around to reveal the famous lightning bolt scar. For the first time, Emil looked at him and understood why the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived still followed him; it was an awe-inspiring, intimidating sight.

"Harry! Harry, calm down—"

"—c'mon now, eeaaasy mate," the twins soothed, cautiously walking up to the angry teen and carefully pulling him into an awkward joint hug.

"Harry, you need—"

"—to calm down. You're—"

"—scaring the elves."

"You're scaring us."

"Right, that too; you're scaring us—"

"—not to mention the big, bad, tough Drumstrangs—"

"—who look about to piss themselves." Unfortunately, the apparent attempt at humor was lost on Harry, who only growled and made the lights flicker a second time at the mention of the Durmstrang students.

"Little brother, calm down!" One of the twins urged, much more firmly this time.

"The last time your accidental magic acted up, you blew up your aunt…"

"…and then the Ministry got involved…"

"…and you have someone else to think about…"

"…before you attract the Ministry to Hogwarts right now!" Emil had no idea what, or who, they were referring to, but almost immediately Harry's face took on a stricken look and his shoulders slumped, the magic sparking through the room settling down a moment later. For a few heartbeats, no one—witch, wizard, or elf—moved or spoke. Then, Harry raised his head to pin the unfortunate students to be caught questioning Dobby with a piercing stare.

"When you have someone brave and selfless enough to face ironed hands and other fucked up torture to try to keep you safe—when you have someone loyal and gutsy enough to save you from a killing curse—then you can judge me and my friends. Until then, stay out of things you don't understand." Without another word, he grabbed the elf's hand, side-stepped both the twins and Viktor and stormed out of the room.

Emil watched on as his best friend made to follow after the small boy, but one of the red-heads grabbed his arm, shaking his head as the other one quickly shot past the watching Durmstrang students to follow after the little Gryffindor. The other red-head started to follow as well, but hesitated at the doorway and turned back, looking over the room with a calculating expression. Finally, he pinned Viktor with a challenging stare.

"I know you are his friend. Until you give me reason to, I won't challenge that. Right now, though, Harry needs his family." He took a deep breath, and seemed to come to some sort of decision. "I know you lot went out on a limb to look after him this morning. Do you trust the people in this room to protect my little brother's secrets?" The Bulgarian, though not usually known for thinking through his actions, took the time to look around the vast kitchens and make eye contact with his classmates.

"Ve vill not intentionally harm him in any vay." He answered solemnly. The red-head paused a moment, then nodded as he looked down at the floor, apparently unable to make eye contact with Viktor for what he had to say.

"Dobby came from an extremely abusive family. Harry saved him by tricking Dobby's owner into setting him free. I think it's so important to Harry because no one has freed him in the same way." He, too, turned and left, leaving them to draw their own conclusions about the implications of his statement.

xXxXxXxXx

After leaving the kitchens, Fred detoured up to the Gryffindor Common Room before class, sneaking into the fourth year boys' dorm and rummaging through Harry's things until he found a well-worn piece of parchment and a silky, shimmering cloak, both of which he slipped into his robes before hurrying to Transfiguration. George was already there, and shook his head at the question in Fred's eyes, letting him know he hadn't caught up with Harry. Fred sighed, but leaned over and whispered to George just before McGonagall showed up to start the lesson.

"I have the map and cloak. We'll sneak out at lunch and head to the Shrieking Shack. Our friend should have arrived by then. We can put him under the cloak and bring him through Honeydukes into the tunnel."

Harry, meanwhile, had blown off a double block of History of Magic in favor of hiding out in the owlery. He had been hoping to visit Hedwig, but his snowy owl wasn't around. Instead, he spent a good while reassuring Dobby that no, he hadn't done anything wrong, and yes, Harry was happy to have him stay with him while he sat staring out the owlery window. He hadn't realized how long they were sitting there until Fred and George suddenly appeared and dropped down to sit on either side of him: Fred holding out a sandwich he had snagged from the Great Hall and his invisibility cloak, and George holding out a pear and the Maurauders Map, spelled on to show the three of them sitting there.

Harry could only roll his eyes as he accepted the stolen cloak and map back from the twins. He should have expected them to pull something like this. He squirmed uncomfortably, feeling as though he should apologize for losing his temper earlier, but unsure of how to start. Instead, the twins flipped one of the maps folds over to a different part of the castle.

"I think there's someone here…"

"…who'd like to see you." They told him, their voices suspiciously neutral.

Looking down to where they were pointing, he almost dropped his lunch in his lap. There, in the long passage-way hidden by a one-eyed witch statue on the third floor, was a pacing dot labeled "Sirius Black."