The Serpent of Durmstrang

A/N: I will be posting this on my Wattpad account as well, so please don't message me about anybody plagiarizing in Wattpad! Thank you for those who have kept up with this rewrite, and please review!

Chapter Four

It had been just a few days after the Quidditch World Cup incident, and lying in bed rest for so long did not improve Harry's mood all that much. The healers that were sent to the camp grounds had been very adamant about not moving him until he had sufficiently recovered from the bruises on his spinal cord. While potions can be used to significantly lessen the pain, it was not recommended due to the precarious nature of the spinal nerves, and any hampered self-repairing could result to a permanent disability.

Finally, after four days, the healers cleared Harry to leave, to the relief of both Sirius and Remus. Both men were not pleased to have been marooned in British soil, and had to leave for a few days to for Remus' full moon transformation. Harry himself had not been happy with the situation, especially since he was not allowed to move too much, much less walk around. He felt confined, and was rearing to leave when the healer had finally cleared him.

As the healer left, and Harry finished putting on the new set of clothes brought to him by Sirius last night, the man himself bared into the room with a full-blown smile.

"Ready, pup?" Sirius eagerly asked.

Harry nodded, checking his wand holster one last time before walking out of the tent. Unlike when the tournament had been in full-swing, the camp grounds had almost nothing on it at this point. A few scattered tents littered around his own, but aside from that, the vast green pasture looked untouched.

Sirius guided his charge towards the portkey point just across the clustered medical tents, "You're probably one of the last few to leave. I think there's a few more people in some of the tents, and of course, the muggles."

"Muggles?" Harry asked. He had not heard anything about muggles being injured at all, nor was he privy to the fact that there were muggles in the event.

"Yeah, we had a muggle family who managed the camp grounds. They were the ones being levitated by the Death Eaters, if you can recall."

Harry nodded, "They're recovering well, right?"

"I think so," Sirius replied, shaking his head, "From what I hear, the torture curse was used, so they're being treated for that. And of course, memory charms later on."

As they approached their destination, a Ministry official waved them over with a kind smile. The man was wearing very dusty robes, and a hat that had seen better days. He had a splay of red hair, and was portly in stature. As the man approached them, it was Sirius' turn to grin before giving the man a firm handshake.

"Arthur! It's good to see you," Sirius smiled at the man.

Arthur grinned, "Good to see you too Sirius. How have you been? The continent treating you well?"

"As well as it'll ever be. I heard you have quite the family now!"

"Seven children, six boys and a girl."

"You've been keeping Molly quite busy, hey?" Sirius winked at the man, who could only chuckle at Sirius' antics.

Arthur glanced at Harry, and held out his hand as well, "Arthur Weasley. And you must be Mister Potter?"

"Just Harry, sir," Harry took the man's hand with a firm shake, "a friend of Sirius is always a friend of mine."

"Well then, just Arthur as well, Harry," Arthur gave him a kind smile, and Harry decided that he liked the man. He was good-natured, and seemed very jovial.

"Arthur here was one of the old guard's, fought beside this man in the last war," Sirius started, "not someone to be messed with, a good man and a great friend."

Arthur blushed at the compliments, and coughed. He was not used to compliments, especially since a lot of people in the Ministry thought he was a laughing stock. Sirius Black, James Potter, and Remus Lupin were the three people he had been quite close to during the war, and certainly counted them as friends. Sadly, throughout the years, he had lost contact with the last two Marauders.

"Anyways, no time to spare at the moment," Arthur coughed, already placing a quill into Sirius' palm, "the portkey leaves in a minute."

Sirius nodded, "We'll be seeing you soon, I'm sure."

Arthur nodded. Harry quickly place a finger on the quill, and with a quick thank you to Arthur, they were whisked away. The sensation made Harry's stomach churl, but he held it as as he stumbled from their not-so-perfect landing. Quickly dusting himself, Harry looked up and saw their townhouse in Bern, Switzerland. In fact, glancing around, Harry was sure he was in Bern.

"Yup, made sure we came back here after your incident," Sirius smiled at Harry, "No more training for you for the next two weeks before your school year, we need you in tip-top shape for what's to come."

Harry nodded, already yearning for the soft beds of their Bern home. Their summer hideaway, the Black property on the Italian coast, did not have the best accommodations. In fact, Harry was sure that the beds there were still from the Renaissance, with their solid hard base, and their creaky wooden frames.

Approaching the door, Harry suddenly realized something that Sirius mentioned, "What do you mean, what's to come?"

"You'll see," Sirius winked, as he gestured towards the front door. Harry took the cue, and hopped up the short climb to their front door, the wards of the house recognizing him as having permission to enter. Gripping the handle, Harry opened the door only to reveal a small group of people looking at him eagerly.

"SURPRISE!"

Harry was taken aback, and almost fell onto his bum. Sirius caught him, and barked loudly as he set his godson back onto his feet. Some of the ones inside watching here sniggered, while others just smiled at his circumstance. Harry could make out Viktor and Aleksander grinning at him, while Kassandra was shaking her head with concealed mirth. Alanna was smiling at him, with Remus beside her howling in laughter. Surprisingly, he could see his transfiguration instructor, Petyr Gregorovitch, standing just by the side, giving him an eye smile.

"Get over here, you monkey!" Aleksander laughed, as he pulled Harry into a one-arm hug.

Viktor patted Harry on the shoulder as he quipped, "I can attest that he isn't drunk, Harry, so don't worry about puke all over you this time!"

"Hey! I'm just happy to see him!"

"That's what you said last time, then the puking began."

Viktor, Kassandra, and Alanna laughed at that, remembering their end of year celebrations. Harry had been cooped up behind their last exam, History of Magic, since it was his worst subject. In the end, his friends had started the party without him, with the insistence of an already drunk Aleksander. Then when he had arrived in their dorm room, Aleksander puked on his school robes. It wasn't the best of his memories with his best friend.

"But seriously, Harry," Aleksander had a hard look on his face, "I'm so sorry that you had to deal with a drunk me. I know if it weren't for you, and Viktor…"

Harry grabbed his friends shoulders, "You're our friend, Aleksander, and we don't leave each other behind."

The teen teared up at Harry's proclamation. He wiped his already leaking tears, "Never again, Harry. I promise to never again be a burden to you, or anyone else."

"Good!" Harry replied, patting him on the shoulder, "Now, shouldn't we start celebrating my return? Where's the booze?"

Remus laughed, "No booze, as requested by your very own Aleksander Petrov."

"No-"

"Yup," Aleksander beamed, "I promised to stay sober for the rest of my goddamn life."

Harry looked at the teen who started drinking at the age of fourteen, who never missed an opportunity for a shot of firewhiskey, and never stayed sober during the weekend. Aleksander was the one who introduced Harry to the fine taste of liquor, and was the main supplier of them during the school year for anyone willing to shell out the pretty penny. Behind the obvious eye bags of alcohol withdrawal, he could see a new man, a changed and dare he say it, a better man.

"I'm proud of you, Aleksander," Harry smiled at his best friend, before gesturing towards the rest of his group, "We all are."

At this, Kassandra nodded firmly, while Alanna gave him a thumbs up, and Viktor grunted in agreement. They all knew his drinking problem only became a real problem after his father's disappearance. This newfound conviction was welcome, and seemed to be the spark that had reignited the old Aleksander, the Aleksander they all knew and loved.

"Good, now that we're all settled, let's get some of those cakes that Alanna and Kassandra baked!" Sirius exclaimed, almost knocking over Harry and Aleksander while charging into the kitchen. Everyone had a laugh at that, since it was no secret that Sirius fell in love with Kassandra and Alanna's baking when they first stayed over during the summer with the rest of Harry's friend group. In fact, it was no secret that Sirius proclaimed that Harry should marry both of the girl's for their baking prowess, to the embarrassment of both ladies and Harry.

As everyone started to file into the kitchen, Harry was gently pulled aside by his transfiguration instructor towards the living room. Harry obliged, and waved his friends to follow through the kitchen. He was almost sure as to this surprise visit, but he was eager to hear it from the man himself.

Harry gestured for Petyr to sit down in one of the two opposing single armed couches, while Harry did the same. Petyr stared at the young man he was taking in as his apprentice, and could feel the raw magical power that he had. It was like himself when he was younger, and the nostalgia kicked in. He was in almost the same position when Albus Dumbledore had accepted him as his apprentice a long time ago, and that day changed his life, as he knew today will change Harry's life.

"Mister Potter-"

"Harry, please, professor," Harry smiled, "We're in my home, after all."

"Harry, then," Petyr obliged, smiling in return, "I received word from your godfather about your interest in battle transfiguration, and would like to extend an apprenticeship starting this school year."

"An apprenticeship?" Harry exclaimed, since he was already preparing himself for a battery of tests to prove his worth. An apprenticeship was not something anyone could get in the Wizarding world, and was afforded only to the best in their generation.

Petyr smiled, "Yes, an apprenticeship. If I have not been your transfiguration instructor for the past six years, then I would have asked you to prove your worth. However, you have shown time and time again in class that you are well above your classmates in the art, and have even amazed me sometimes with you work."

"But, professor, how about my seventh year transfiguration? Will I be taking this apprenticeship, and your class at the same time?"

"No," Petyr shook his head, "You will be my teaching assistant during the class times for seventh year transfiguration. We will be looking at your timetable on the first day of classes to see which days of the week we can accommodate your apprenticeship with me."

Harry could only nod, and stare at his tall and lithe professor. The man was past six feet in height, and always wore immaculate sleek-black robes. His hair was pulled back, while sporting a stubble on his chin, which complimented his sharp features. The man towered most of everyone in school, save for the Highmaster.

"Now, as you might know, battle transfiguration is not something to scoff at," Petyr started, pulling out from his satchel an assortment of tomes that looked older than Merlin, "These textbooks will be your foundation. You will need to complete the reading before the school year starts."

"Will there by spell work involved throughout the readings?"

Petyr shook his head, "Not for the first few weeks. It'll mostly be theory for the most part, especially since a lot of the common transfiguration theories will be thrown out into the wind."

"Which ones?" Harry's curiosity piqued, especially since he had taken the transfiguration theories to heart as he learned them throughout the years. To say that the laws he had abided by over the years will be inconsequential moving forward was exciting.

"Well," Petyr started, squaring his shoulders, a habit he had when he went into lecture mode, "unlike what we teach about non-creativity, which is comparable to charms, battle transfiguration requires the practitioner to be very creative. Our creativity is most likely the core to our effectiveness. Without creativity, one cannot truly become a master at battle transfiguration."

Harry nodded, eagerly soaking up the knowledge from his professor. For years, he had been taught that transfiguration required a lot of concentration, and little creativity. Transfiguration was science-like in nature, where precision is key. Yet, to say that creativity has become an important factor as well as precision was ludicrous. To have both means a person has to have a very strong control of their mental faculties, which meant Occlumency.

Petyr, seeing Harry absorb the knowledge like a sponge, decided to continue, "For example, I use battle transfiguration like a hammer, using brute force to overcome my opponent, notably using what I transfigure. Contrary to that, my master, Albus Dumbledore, has more finesse and usually attacks in a smaller, but grander scale."

From Petyr's explanation, Harry could surmise that the creativity part of battle transfiguration came from the fact that it determines what you transfigure to aid you in a fight. Most likely, Professor Gregorovitch transfigures and possibly even animates objects to do his bidding. Even then, Harry knew for a fact that transfiguration relies on the objects one can transfigure, which means the surroundings is a major factor in a battle.

"Now," Petyr got up from his head, running a hand on his slicked-back hair, "I will trouble you no further. Go enjoy the day with your friends, and read the books. We'll see each other when the school year starts."

With that, the professor took his leave and left through the front door. Harry continued to sit, and contemplate this life changing decision he had made, as well as the added amount of commitment that came with it. He felt wholly unprepared for it all, but he knew he had to push forward. If what Sirius and Remus were saying was true, then he needed to be ready. Lord Voldemort, or some other Dark Lord, seems to be gathering and arming themselves for a fight, and he was most definitely going to be an active player. Not by choice, but by the fact that he carried his lightning-shaped scar, a symbol of power that rallies against Dark Lords. It is a reminder, the scar that defeated the last Dark Lord, and any future ones will see it as a threat to their rise.

Shaking his head, Harry got up slowly and stretched. The bed rest had been both kind and unkind to his body. He was healed up, and rearing to sprint, yet he was also out of shape. If every falls into place, then he will need to be in tip top shape before the term starts.

"You coming, Harry?" a smiling Kassandra asked, as she peeked into the living room. Harry noticed she was wearing a baby pink shirt that had the Weird Sister's logo plastered on it, and skinny jeans that accented her features rather well.

Harry nodded, but before he could take a few steps, he quickly realized this was probably the best time to have a proper talk with Kassandra. They had not parted in the best of terms during the year end, and he wanted to mend that gap, especially now more than ever, with the looming darkness just on the horizon.

"Kassandra, can I have a moment?"

Kassandra frowned a little, before taking tentative steps into the room and closing the door behind her. She kept a perfect manicured stance of a pureblood princess, yet he could see her fingers fidgeting.

Harry sighed, "I know we didn't part on the best of terms-"

"Harry, don't sugarcoat it. I've known you ever since first year, when you were a snot-nosed brat. Just say what you need to say."

"Fine. I love you, Kassandra. But as my sister. We grew up together, and you were my first real friend in Durmstrang, and no matter what you say, I know I was your first friend too. Too be honest, I thought I was going to end up with you when we started third year, especially since I had a massive crush on-"

"You had a crush on me?" Kassandra's eyes widened, before she giggled, "Sorry, sorry, please continue."

Harry coughed, embarrassed by his admittance, "Yes, I did have a crush on you. But as we finished fifth year, I realized it was a passing fancy on my first and closest friend. You're my sister, Kass, and even though you've grown to be be such a breathtakingly beautiful woman, I know in my heart I'm not the one for you."

Kassandra brushed a tear from her eye. The sudden honesty from Harry had been quite an eye opener. For the last few weeks, she had thought that he rejected her because she wasn't enough for him. She wouldn't be surprised, since at home, she was not the favourite daughter and was often ridiculed for not being more like her older sister. Looking at Harry, she couldn't stop her small smile as she saw the small messy-haired first year in his place. He had been her first friend, and she treasured that memory every single day. It kept her going for the last six years in Durmstrang, that she had a friend who would support her without fail, and was most likely the reason she had developed romantic feelings for him. Getting over it wouldn't be a day's work, but she'll manage. Harry's friendship meant more to her than anything.

"Thank you," Kassandra was finally able to choke out, "you, we, we can get through this, right?"

Harry nodded, and went for a hug. Kassandra obliged, and they stood there for a few moments, just embracing, like when they were first years. Kassandra enjoyed the moment, before Harry pulled back and gave her forehead a kiss.

"Your still my friend, my best friend, Kass. We'll pull through together," Harry grinned at her, "besides, who'll be my rival in all things academic if you're not around?"

Kassandra scoffed, "Yeah, right! It's only a rivalry when you can actually get on my level, Potter."

Harry laughed at that, and was joined quickly by Kassandra. They both grinned at each other before taking a few steps towards the door. However, before Harry could join Kassandra outside, there was a knock on the window of the living room. Looking back, Harry could see a hawkish-like owl with an envelope in its talons staring at him in anticipation.

"You might want to get that," Kassandra urged him, "It should be safe, right? With the Black wards still in place?"

Harry nodded, already opening the window for the owl to fly in and drop the letter onto his open palm. He glanced at Kassandra, as he started opening the letter, "Yeah, the Black wards purge any cursed or laced letters instantly."

Letting the letter fall out into his palm, he was immediately hit with the smell of flowery perfume. It wasn't too overwhelming, and it smelled quite nice, if not very familiar. Kassandra quickly was behind him and peeked at the slightly open letter.

She caught a glimpse at the name of the sender. The name made her heart clench, but she forced a grin onto her face, "It's perfumed, she must like you, this Fleur Delacour."

"Don't be nosy, Kass!" Harry immediately folded the letter and placed it inside his pocket. He would read it later, when he had more time and was alone.

"Let's go, they're probably waiting for us already!" Harry shooed Kassandra, as she stuck her tongue out at him.

Kassandra let him push her out of the room, but whispered lightly so only he could hear, "I'll keep this secret if you promise to introduce me to her before anybody else in our friend group."

Harry stared at the young woman, who immediately continued, "She needs your best friend's approval, after all!"

"Fine," Harry conceded, "just promise to be nice."

"Promise!"

Somehow, Harry didn't believe her.