Harry
31st December, 1991, The Atlantic Ocean
"So, it looked like they all wet themselves at the same time?" Elise asked, a single eyebrow arched with her lips pursed.
"Yes, my father said that eventually after they stopped laughing they decided that a pipe must have burst or something," Draco nodded in confirmation to Elise as Harry just leant back against the other side of the rich felt sofa opposite Draco, mussing up his short messy hair.
"Still, it was good to see them put in their place – even if for a brief time," Harry said as he leant back and sighed in content as his thoughts drifted back over the winter period.
"Oh! Did you both get what I sent you for Christmas?" Elise asked with a sly smirk as she eyed Harry's hair.
"Yeah, I did thanks – 'Get a haircut'. The book on duelling was appreciated though, I'll admit I'm a tad suspicious of why I got one but Draco didn't," Harry said, his eyes narrowing as he levelled the accusation to Elise.
"Because you share the same room and were at the same place? You could both read it or use Draco's broom servicing kit," Elise explained patiently with only a roll of her eyes.
"Thank you, by the way, Elise," Draco added, uncharacteristically kind to her for once.
"No problem, Draco…" Elise trailed off, her eyes watching Draco like he was about to spring a trap on her.
"By the way, we did get you something – you just never told us your address in Bulgaria, so we waited to give it to you," Harry said with a grin before he jumped up and began to search through his trunk before pulling out a wooden box.
"Um, thanks for the box, Corvus, Draco. I'll think of you whenever I put anything in it," Elise commented, her voice a mixture of confusion and sarcasm.
"You are supposed to open it, you know," Draco said slowly, rolling his eyes as he leant forward – his interest piqued. It wasn't long before Elise began to fiddle with the metal clasp on the box and open it to reveal its contents.
"Oh, that's really good – is that a sketch of all of us?" Elise asked, pulling out a piece of parchment which had the impression of all three of them inscribed upon it. They were all smiling, sniggering at the back of the Charms class. Harry remembered the moment – they had been learning to make inanimate objects dance, and Elise had created a miniature version of Draco that danced like a ballerina.
"Yeah, Draco turned out to be a pretty good artist," Harry said whilst he looked across at Elise, watching her blue eyes shine with warm affection. Draco gave a modest shrug in an effort to appear humble – something that his near constant smirk made impossible.
"Well, I have been doing it for a while."
"Thanks, Draco," Elise said before she pulled out a clear glass ball with runic etchings upon the glass, an ornate gold band forming an 'X' around the glass. Harry grinned as he looked at it – before he gave a long, disappointed sigh.
"You know, I really had hoped it'd go all smoky as soon as you picked it up," he said wistfully.
Elise blinked in confusion, and then recognition as she looked towards Harry, "You got me a remembrall! But I'm not that forgetful?" she finished with an upwards inflection in her voice.
"You always forget your notes for potions," Draco pointed out, taking a sharp tone with her as she returned a sly look towards her friend.
"I don't forget by accident. I forget it on purpose," Elise explained, making air quotes in the air every time she mentioned forgetting something.
"I guess little miss perfect here isn't so perfect after all then," teased Harry before catching the remembrall that she threw at him deftly, "Oi, I paid for that," he complained as Draco gave a quiet laugh. Elise arched an eyebrow unabashed, before her façade cracked and she broke out into a smile.
"Sorry," she said wryly.
Harry gave her a grin, shook his head and casually threw the ball back to her. She caught it – barely – and put it back in the box along with the drawing before closing it again.
"How long is it until we get back to Durmstrang?" Draco asked, his gaze lingering on Elise expectantly as he ran a hand down the back of his head.
"Uh, it's about twenty minutes," Elise answered who looked over at Harry who was still residing in his day clothes – a white shirt and black trousers with an expensive open navy robe that had been a gift from Narcissa sprawled over the sofa. Harry pretended not to notice, fiddling with his aspen wand idly.
"Corvus, you need to change into your school clothes – well, at least a red cloak," Draco pointed out for Elise who gave him a gracious smile.
Harry gave a tremendous sigh as he kicked his legs into the air as he arose, yanking off his robe and shirt as he pulled down the trunk before he grabbed a red cloak and grey shirt from within. Elise's blue eyes looked over him, as did Draco's.
"You know, I'd have thought you'd put on muscle from all the training you're doing, I mean, Draco has," Elise pointed out, looking over at Draco whose form had grown slightly, mainly in height.
"Eh, probably just genetics," Harry shrugged before he pulled on the grey shirt as he began to button it up. Elise arched an eyebrow after his comment, just as Draco let out a snort of laughter.
"Genetics don't make someone skinny or big, moron. Besides, your dad is well built, so that wouldn't even work," Draco pointed out.
"Well, I don't know, magic or something. What else could it be?" Harry asked quizzically as he fastened on his crimson cloak.
"The fact that you don't eat nearly enough?" offered Elise.
"The fact that other than flying the only exercise you do is playing with your wand?" Draco suggested. Harry coughed loudly, his cheeks turning red as Elise gave a quiet giggle. Harry was struck by an inexplicable urge to punch Draco's smug face.
"I eat just as much as you do," Harry muttered as he fastened a silver and red insignia onto the crimson cloak, marking him out as a member of Red Team. It earned him a little respect from others he'd noticed – the quidditch team was prestigious in Durmstrang, or had been since Dimitri had taken control of it.
"Obviously not," Draco said as he fingered his own insignia, "I mean, I have a few snacks whilst you're practically abstinent."
"I'm just not hungry, so I don't eat," Harry explained slowly like he was speaking to a toddler.
"And that's why you're skinny," Elise answered in a similarly condescending tone which drew a groan from Harry who sat back down onto the sofa. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled down his trunk next to him within easy reach.
"Well, who cares about being skinny anyway?" Harry muttered to himself as Elise slid her presents into her well organized trunk – each type of clothing in its own area.
"When do we start lessons again? I've forgotten," Draco asked whilst he pulled out his onyx duelling insignia which he turned in his fingers, the numbers 2035 flickering into life over the stone. Harry's own was position was not much higher at 2055 – they had both broken Grindelwald's record, despite encountering difficulties along the way.
"You know, it's stupid but I kind of expected to advance just as quickly in the duelling club," Harry said, drawing a withering glance from Elise and Draco.
"Don't you remember what Dimitri said? He said that getting to two thousand is easy, but because you don't have shit duellists anymore it gets harder – and there are less duellists to fight even further," Elise reminded Harry, locking up her trunk again and leaning it against her own sofa.
"And he did say that once you get past two thousand seven hundred, you will lose half your matches no matter how good you are," Draco added.
"I know, but, still, you hear it but you never realize what it means," Harry defended, raising his hands as he rolled his eyes. Draco and Elise snorted derisively and they all relaxed – enjoying the silence that ensued.
It wasn't much longer until they arrived at the docks – marching towards the portkey next to a frozen river. Draco was the one to point it out to them – they weren't at the same place as they were last time they arrived at the school.
"So, they do change it every time – guess that's why it's hard to find the school," Harry said as they marched through the snow – the portkey that had taken them to the grounds that now faded into the treeline behind them.
"That's just the tip of the iceberg," Elise muttered, "When Harfang Munter took control, and he made certain to reinforce Durmstrang's defences – to which we never figured out the full extent of."
"… So, like what?" Draco asked with a roll of his eyes whilst Harry only looked at Elise patiently as he waited for her to carry on.
"Well, first of all it's unplottable but that's not really unexpected. What marks it as unique is only the head master ever knows where it is," Elise explained as she brushed the falling snowflakes out of her fair brown hair as she spoke – her pale skin substantially more white than usual with any crystalline snowflakes that fell upon her exposed skin turned almost invisible.
"Surely you could just follow an owl here, however?" Draco asked. The white blonde hair that Draco possessed bore a similar effect to Elise's skin, making his hair almost sparkle in the moonlight. Harry felt almost out of place next to Draco and Elise who looked almost ethereal, his black hair looking only as if he had bad dandruff – his fair skin looked only as if it were blemished by the snow.
"No, there's magic that makes it appear to fly a different direction than it does – and even if you managed to find this area, there's a magical barrier of energy that cannot be breached," Elise explained patiently, waving a hand towards the silhouettes of the mountains that encircled the valley that was lit by moonlight. The same moonlight that played upon the surface of the lake.
"So that's why we use a portkey, right? So why can't we just apparate in?" asked Harry.
"Only the headmaster can make the portkeys, as he is taught how by the last one – other than that, you can't apparate into, or disapparate out of the valley," Elise explained.
"Oh," Harry said, feeling stupid for having missed something so obvious.
"Is that all? I think Hogwarts has similar defences," Draco pointed out as they approached the gates of Durmstrang.
"That's only the stuff I know – and nobody knows all the defences. The school is basically a fort," Elise said, "You know, if you actually read about the school you might not have to get me to explain everything to you."
"But we love hearing your angelic voice, Elise, why would we ever want you to stop talking?" Harry said with a smirk etched across his face before he ducked in reaction to a jelly-legs jinx fired at him by Elise – the blue light fizzling out some distance away.
"Anyway, I'll see you both tomorrow. I'm going to go unpack and get some sleep. Night," Elise said with a wave before narrowing her blue eyes towards Harry who just waved and grinned back. It didn't take long for Harry and Draco to get back to their room and dump the contents of their trunks all over the floor. They lit the fire and climbed into bed, hiding from the cold under the thick duvets.
5th January, 1992, Durmstrang
Sweat dripped from Harry's brow as he walked into the dining hall of Durmstrang and slumped down next to Elise, Draco joining them on the other side of the table. Harry leant his broomstick against the table as gently as he could – it was still in the pristine condition he had received it in at Christmas.
Brandon and Ash slumped down on either side of the bench opposite Harry, besides Draco. Sweat was trickling down their red faces as they grinned at Draco and Harry.
"Nimbus two thousands? Rich bastards," Brandon said as he ran a sweaty hand back through his thick ginger hair – which drew out a disgusted grimace from Elise.
"They were Christmas presents from our fathers," Draco explained with a teasing smirk, his eyes glancing to Ash who only rolled her eyes at him in response. Brandon started to undo his red robes, drawing Elise's eyes to the tight black shirt and trousers underneath.
"Hey, Elise," Harry said quickly, perturbed by the way Elise's eyes fixated on his teammate, "Do you wanna head outside in a bit with me and Draco?"
Elise blinked and looked at Harry with a smile, "Sure, should be fun."
Ash gave a snicker as she looked at Harry before she sent him a knowledgeable wink. She rolled her shoulders before leaning forwards to speak to her peers, "So, the season's starting soon – six games from March to the end of May. You two fit for it? If not, Krum will throw a fit."
Draco gave a brief nod but Harry shifted uncomfortably, "Fit? What would you consider fit?" Harry asked.
Brandon looked Harry up and down with a frown, "Well, it depends – keepers and beaters should be a bit more bulky than chasers or the seeker, but you should still be quite strong. I mean, look at Krum, guy's an athlete through and through – five days a week training in the gym, seven on the pitch. He's lean, you'd think him thin if you hadn't seen him unrobed. People underestimate it – we may be flying around, but that's still hard work."
Ash gave a sigh, "What B.B failed to answer in his fangirling of Krum, is that you should be able to do forty press ups in two minutes, run one and a half miles in about nine minutes, and do eight consecutive good pull ups. But, for your age, doing around fifteen press ups, running eight hundred metres and three or four pull ups should be fine, Corvus."
Harry sighed – he could probably run eight hundred metres quite easily, but he was quite weak – and he didn't exactly want to admit to Krum how physically disappointing he was. Draco however, asked Harry's question for him.
"What should we do if we want to train for that?" he asked, fooling no one that he was asking for himself.
"Well, honestly, Viktor's a good shout for that. He will help you – but you could just do it in your rooms and you'd be fine, it's not the hardest thing to train for," Brandon answered with a shrug. Harry gave a nod, letting out a breath of relief. Elise just patted his shoulder in an almost reassuring manner – her smile sympathetic.
"Anyway, we'll get off, leave you three to your breakfast. See you later," Ash said as she stood up as she tugged at Brandon's sleeve to make him stand. He took his time, before he gave a mocking salute and hurrying out just behind Ash.
"Are those two dating or something?" asked Harry who watched them leave before he turned back around to tuck into a sausage sandwich that drizzled juices and tomato sauce.
"I hope not," Elise muttered under her breath, barely loud enough for Harry to hear – her adoration of Brandon bemused Harry, but he also felt slightly uncomfortable with it for some reason that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Draco raised his hands, palms facing the ceiling – he seemed rather nonplussed.
"I don't know, but I doubt it. Just good friends, I think," Draco said.
Harry exhaled slightly before he started to speak in between bites, "Well, we can head – outside after breakfast. I'll – grab a thick cloak."
Draco and Elise nodded, starting to dig into their own breakfasts in silence, happy to enjoy each other's company.
When the three headed out into the snow blanketed valley they headed down towards the edge of the lake that had just started to freeze over. The snow underfoot was thick – at least six inches deep, threatening to creep over the top of their thick, black, militaristic boots. When they found a decent spot to sit at – in the cover of a tree that helped them evade some of the light snowfall – they used a heating charm to melt away the snow nearby and give them somewhere dry to sit.
"How was your Christmas, anyway, Elise?" asked Draco who leaned forward and placed three bottles of butterbeer upright in the snow to chill.
"Um, I saw Viktor there, at the ball that is. We spent most of the ball together talking as the rest of our families argued with one another. I hate my family – they just rant about muggles and muggleborns, how they 'shouldn't be allowed to use magic'. It's stupid," Elise ranted quietly. Harry watched Draco shifted uncomfortably next to her as she talked about muggles, opening his mouth before closing it.
"I'm sorry it was so bad," Harry said soothingly, sliding an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. She nodded, leaning in to him slightly, though Harry suspected it was more because she was getting a bit cold rather than any form of affection.
"Well, I enjoy spending time with my mom, and the presents are always nice, I guess there's always that," Elise said, Draco nodding in agreement.
"Yeah, but it'd suck having to spend your Christmas with family that are that judgemental," Harry said.
"I guess. Either way, I'm back now – I wonder what we'll be studying now we're back? We finished off a lot of stuff before Christmas," Elise said, pulling out a book on transfiguration from under her coat. The book's cover was worn, brown leather, and its pages yellowing.
"I believe that we'll be beginning to study for the end of year exams," Draco pointed out as he gathered some snow in his hand, forming a snowball as he eyed Harry and Elise.
"Don't even think about it," warned Harry as he glanced up from the book he had been reading over Elise's shoulder before he was promptly hit in the face by snow that exploded and showered Elise and her book, soaking both.
"You ass!" screeched Elise as Harry let out a delighted howl, shifting away from Elise towards the snow and gathering up a ball as another white blob sailed over him with icy fragments sailing off from its mass. Harry retaliated – the snowball colliding into Draco's crimson padded shoulder who blinked in surprise and drew his wand, flicking it upwards with an inaudible incantation to form a wall of snow to hide behind – though the wall was barely stable – and was rapidly falling apart as another snowball slammed into it.
"Oh, we're playing that game are we?" Harry yelled as he drew his aspen wand – its pristine white surface almost invisible against the snow. He gave a swish of his wand before flicking upwards.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he cried as multiple snowballs rose up before being shot towards Draco and his wall which fell apart – to reveal Draco crouched down with an overly large snowball in his free hand which was flung into Harry's face.
"Not a chance, Corvus! Not a chance!" Draco bragged, before he hesitated as he spotted something in his peripheral vision, a hesitation which left him vulnerable to the tidal force of snow that engulfed both of the boys. Knocked down to the ground and soaked they panted loudly, their wands left somewhere in the snow mound generated by Elise's furious spellwork.
A minute passed as they were left there red faced and panting before Elise started giggling quietly, slumping down to her knees in the deep snow. It wasn't long before Harry joined in – laughing feverishly as Draco sat up and burst into loud snickers as he tried - in vain - to restrain himself.
They stayed that way for a long time, not bothering to move despite the frigid weather.
"So, I guess that Elise wins her first duel – and against both of us at the same time," Harry said after a while with a broad grin.
"Shut up, I've won before – but yeah, I'm counting this," Elise said with a smirk.
"Never against us," Draco reminded her.
Elise just shook her head, her triumphant grin unable to be removed from her face, even for the next few hours they spent together.
8th March, 1992, Durmstrang
Harry's pulse was racing as he stood beside Draco in his red robe, his hand clutched around the polished mahogany handle of his broom, the white of his knuckles pressing through the taut skin of his hand.
"I want you to remember the game plan – Ash, Miranda, your main job this game is to protect Corvus and Draco, don't actively seek to incapacitate other players but take the chance if it presents itself," Krum said loudly – his voice carrying to each member of the team, "As Draco's the best shooter, he'll be the forward, Corvus will be the mid, and Alex, you'll be defending," Krum announced.
Alex let out a groan at this – he was a brilliant defender and could very easily play professionally in a few years, but he despised the position.
"Shut it, Alex. I'll make the other seeker crash; all you have to focus on is outscoring the yellow bastards," Krum finished before hitting his chest with his free hand – a gesture that everyone on the team emulated and Dimitri finished off at the back.
They started to move forwards through the stone passageway; the warm light of the torches casting harsh shadows upon their faces. The doors were just ahead – light seeping in through the cracks in the wood. As they reached the door they waited for their cue.
Trumpets bellowed, and the doors swung open; Harry and the team bathed in blinding light.
What Harry beheld made his jaw drop – the pitch and its stands usually empty were filled with what seemed to be the entire school - teachers and students communed together. The other team adorned in their yellow coats were already in the air, flew above the centre.
"And, here are the Red Team! Holding an unbroken win streak of five games from last season, we must wonder whether that record will hold past today," the announcer's voice was loud, masculine and clearly belonged to a seventh year – and judging by the mix of jeers and cheers from the crowd, he had some experience with the crowd, Harry thought.
"Mount!" barked Krum. The team didn't waste any time as they swiftly obeyed; Harry slipped a leg over his Nimbus two-thousand and held onto the broom with both hands, eager to take off.
"To the centre!" was Krum's command. Harry kicked off from the ground, and he suddenly felt free – as if a heavy weight had been removed from his chest. As they began to near the centre, Krum flicked his hand to Draco and Harry who nodded in response. Krum had told them to fly a lap around the pitch on their first game so that everyone would be acquainted with the new recruits; Elise had said it was standard practice to do so, and nothing to worry about.
Harry felt that last assessment slightly inaccurate, if only due to the jeers that the north side of the field threw at them as they flew around before returning to the centre with their hair a mess.
"Krum and Didalo have shook hands, and we have seen the red team's new recruits – Malfoy and Black! They are young – but whether they're green remains to be seen. We now only await the quaffle for the game – and the season - to start," cried out the announcer.
Karkaroff was clad in his silver furs as he marched out into the centre of the pitch holding the quaffle under his arm. His beard looked oiled with the way it glistened in the afternoon sun.
He raised his fingers to his lips, holding the quaffle firmly in his free hand. Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his head, glancing over at Draco who was just slightly ahead and above of him looking determined. Karkaroff whistled sharply, the noise cutting across the silence of the stadium – the quaffle thrown into the air as noise erupted all around them like the firing of a cannon.
Harry surged forward towards the ball, his body flat against the broom with his hand outstretched – but he wasn't the only one travelling towards the quaffle, a chaser from the yellow team was also accelerating at a rapid speed towards the ball.
It was Harry's fingers that grasped around the quaffle that had just begun to dip, but the yellow chaser's hand clawed at Harry who sharply turned away from his opponent.
"Alex!" Harry yelled out over the wind and roar of the crowd before he threw the ball towards the older boy who caught it and darted forwards and ducking under the swing of a beater's bat.
With only two chasers up field Harry was forced to take a deep breath and shoot forward, body pointed like an arrow forward as he raised a hand to catch the quaffle which was thrown to him just in time to avoid a beater's attempt to knock it out of Alex's hand.
Draco wasn't far ahead, a clear shot on the hoops open to the blonde boy. Harry's eyes narrowed behind his glasses before shooting forwards and to Draco's right, throwing the ball just ahead of him. The crowd held their breath and then a roar of support echoed throughout the grounds – Draco had caught the ball, and was open on goal, the yellow defender nowhere near him. Malfoy lined up the shot and threw to the left – the keeper dived for it, before the hoop hit the rim of the right hoop and bounced in.
"And Malfoy feints the keeper! What an embarrassment for Harvey, an embarrassment that has made the game ten to nothing only a minute in! The ball is se-"
The announcer was interrupted by a resounding crunch and scream as Krum was pulling up from the ground. Harry blinked and peered closer as play stopped – and even from across the pitch he could see the other seeker's arm bent back upon its elbow; the jagged white surface of which protruding from his arm.
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered under his breath as the other seeker was floated off of the pitch by the nurse before a whistle blew and the frenzy began again; the announcer's voice incomprehensible. Harry was shooting straight for the yellow defender who nursed the ball close to his chest as he advanced up the pitch. I can grab it from him before he can throw it, Harry thought as he outstretched a hand for the ball.
The other chaser slammed his shoulder into Harry's and sent him pirouetting through the air on the back of his broom as he tried to regain control and avoid falling to his death. Once he had regained control, Harry turned to look at them advancing forward –he took a moment to regain his breath – and then accelerating towards his team, eager to help. He was too late – by the time he had regrouped with the rest of his team the quaffle was sailing past Brandon into the central hoop.
"Ten to ten! Yellow team evens the score! The red team look like children trying to swat at wasps!" exclaimed the announcer to a roar of approval from the crowd.
Harry took in a deep breath, and shot forward to receive the pass from Alex before performing a barrel roll to avoid the swiping hand of an enemy chaser, moving as fast as he could towards the hoops, Draco at his side.
"Corvus!" screamed Draco just as the yellow team beater moved to mark him. Harry hesitated – he swung the ball towards Draco, but threw it behind himself to Alex just as a bludger dashed past Harry's ear; the air stinging his eyes.
Sweat beaded upon Harry's brow and ran down the surface of his glasses as he trailed Draco, staying a few metres behind – only stopping when Draco sent the ball through the hoops.
"It's an end to end game today, Malfoy scores again! Twenty to ten for the Red Team." The announcer's voice was almost lost over a sudden uproar from the crowd as the yellow beater's bat connected with Alex's shoulder with a sharp crack.
Alex, however, did not seem phased; going so far as to simply yank his shoulder back into place with a grimace whilst play was stopped and the referee, Karkaroff, waved for a penalty shot which Draco floated up to take.
Truthfully, Harry was glad that there was a pause in the play – he found himself tired and sweaty already, even despite his extensive training for the season; a fact that he would be reluctant to have Krum discover.
"And Draco Malfoy scores! This new aspirant is excelling thus far in the game – what potential he has. Thirty to ten to the Red Team – the yellows are starting to fall pretty far behind now, will they be able to pull it back?" wondered the announcer.
But it seemed that the yellow team were inclined to disagree, as over the next fifteen minutes they managed to score one hundred and forty points, whilst the red team struggled to gain their fifty. As the scores reached eighty to one hundred and fifty, the team began to lose their will – Brandon was slower on the uptake, and even more sluggish at moving, and Miranda would struggle to defend Harry from bludgers in time.
"And that's one hundred and sixty to eighty! The yellow team has twice the points of the red team – and there's no sighting of the Snitch just yet! If the Red Team's chasers don't turn around, Krum's efforts could be for nought!" roared the announcer as the quaffle just skimmed Brandon's fingertips.
"Ash! Miranda! Stop defending Draco and Corvus and knock those fuckers down!" yelled Krum from above – his eyes never ceasing to scan the pitch.
Harry felt vulnerable as his two guardian angels abandoned him – the wind suddenly seemed to sting a lot more, and the quaffle felt heavier in his hands when he caught it. He wasted no time however – and sped forwards, weaving around his opponent and accelerate towards the hoops.
Please let Draco be next to me, he thought as he threw the ball to his right as subtly as he could – still accelerating forward, two chasers tailing him.
"Oh what a move that was! Those two are a menace together, the yellow team would be worried if it weren't for their lead!" crowed the announcer as Harry cursed loudly. The two chasers abandoned their pursuit of Harry, switching their focus to Draco who threw the ball straight past the distracted keeper.
"One hundred and sixty to ninety! Is this the start of a turnaround or- son of a bitch!" yelled the announcer as the bat of the yellow team captain rapped Draco around the head, knocking him not only from his broom, but from consciousness. He was falling quickly – and gaining speed.
Harry pressed himself flat against his broom and sped forwards in a sharp dive; legs wrapped around his nimbus and wand in his hand ready to catch Draco who was rapidly approaching the grassy pitch.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he cried desperately as Draco rushed towards the ground.
Draco's body slowed and floated in midair much to Harry's relief – but the danger wasn't over, for now Harry was stuck in a very sharp, fast dive. He allowed Draco to drop – gently – to the ground, stowing his wand quickly as he gripped the bow of his broom as tightly as he could and pulled up with all his strength, his knuckles white against his flushed skin.
Harry's hands met the ground first as he skimmed across it like a rock across the surface of a lake, bouncing and rolling across the pitch where he lay for a few moments panting loudly.
"And Black manages to save his teammate in time! Of course, it was an unnecessary gesture – he would have been safe! Mostly."
Harry groaned as he sat up, wincing as he grasped Krum's hand and was pulled sharply up – his face felt tender, as did his ribs and arms. However, he doubted he felt half as bad as Leo Didalo who was being harassed by the rest of his team and threatened by Ash waving her bat dangerously close.
"You probably saved him from a week in the hospital, Corvus – there's a good chance they'll give Didalo to Karkaroff for punishment," Krum said darkly, staring daggers into the opposing captain past his team.
"To Karkaroff?" Harry asked numbly, tasting blood upon the tip of his tongue.
"Yes, he tends to use a mix of curses and canes for punishment," answered Krum who brushed down Harry's back gently and handed him his broom, "You'll be taking the penalty for Draco."
Harry gave a feeble nod and flew back up until he was hovering in front of the hoops for the yellow team. He took the time waiting for them to catch his breath that agitated his raw throat. It was a few minutes until the whistle blew for the penalty.
The crowd held its breath – and Harry could feel their eyes upon him. He was thrown the quaffle by Harvey, their keeper, and Harry gripped it tightly as he eyed up the hoops. He's not that tired, we haven't put him through much, observed Harry who realized very quickly that his best chance was to try and send the ball bouncing off the rim in through the hoop – the keeper would be able to catch it otherwise, as he had done for the majority of the game.
Harry took the shot, his body twisting as he threw it and his arm sailed forward, the ball propelled towards the rim that it bounced off of.
"And he misses! A near miss, if you ask me, but still a miss! Black will be hearing about that for the rest of the season."
Harry's failure set the tone of the game for his team; with a man down they failed to get the ball forward, and struggled even more to defend against the yellow onslaught who managed to tear past them and score again and again and again. It wasn't long before the game was two hundred and seventy to ninety, and that was when Krum caught the snitch – ending the game at two hundred and seventy to two hundred and forty. The first defeat of the season, and in five games for Red Team.
They were all silent as they marched into the showers, and silent when they walked out and changed again – even Brandon didn't say anything which was surprising consider it was near impossible to get him to shut up under normal circumstances.
"Sorry, by the way," muttered Harry to them all as he pulled on his crisp white shirt – his green eyes not quite meeting theirs.
"Sorry? For missing the shot?" asked Miranda in a state of confusion before planting a hand on Harry's shoulder, "You know none of us blame you right? After they knocked out Draco, we never stood a chance of keeping up with them."
"Yeah, don't worry about it Corvus," Ash nodded as she pulled on her shirt and fastened the front again before she looked over at Brandon who was still pulling on his jumper over his broad shoulders.
"Still, if I'd scored we might have been able to catch up a little easier," Harry protested before Krum snorted loudly as he stood up to face the much smaller boy.
Krum finished started to speak and the entire team listened even whilst preoccupied with pulling on their clothes and spraying deodorant, "Might have, if, whether, and should haves have no place in this team. You missed, we lost; we'll deal with it. There's a reason I use Draco up front and not you – do you think I expected you to score that? You did well, we all played to the best we could, but our best just wasn't good enough today,"
Dumbledore
12th March, 1992, Hogwarts
"So your attempts to push forward the law and Potter's case reopening both failed?" Snape asked incredulously.
"Aye, but not for a lack of trying," Moody said, his magical eye boring a hole through Snape's skull – something that bothered most people, but not Dumbledore's most faithful friend.
"It would have been nice if either had passed, but that was not my intention. It was to reveal who didn't want the Potter case reopened. It revealed some odd – but unsurprising – names," Dumbledore spoke softly, looking up at his three friends from behind his desk.
"And they were?" Lupin asked curiously, his fingers flittering over his ragged jacket – a state that bothered Albus immensely. He had a solution – but he did not know if Lupin would be willing to accept his proposal.
"Cornelius Fudge, which implicates Lucius Malfoy. It's not a very well hidden fact that Fudge relies on Lucius for advice, so any move taken by him is likely to have been approved by Malfoy at the least," explained Dumbledore, looking to Mad-Eye.
"I don't understand the dark bastard's intentions. Why would Malfoy care if the case was reopened? We know it was Black," Moody snarled, his scarred visage twisting grotesquely as he shifted his weight slightly onto his staff.
"You forget, Moody, that the Malfoy pup and Black are close friends – indeed, Black attended the ministry ball with him and his parents," Snape said, his voice slow and precise as he held his hand over his black robes.
"So, you're saying that Malfoy is allied with Black? Why hasn't he tried to help him before now?" Lupin asked only for Moody to give a grunt and shrug.
"We don't know, but my personal speculations are that they allied because of their sons. It's a silly move – if Corvus is Harry, then he's being exposed publically. If he isn't, then we have another lead," Dumbledore said with conviction, an air of relief present within his soft but determined words.
"So we're going after Malfoy. That's why I'm here," Moody said in his deep, guttural voice, "I'm going to search his manor and see if we find anything – if any one of us was idiotic enough to go after him, then he'd use his money to get rid of us."
Lupin's lips were pressed tight together, a knot forming between his brows, "Let me come with you, I can help – and if Sirius is hiding there, then I want to see him."
Moody considered Lupin for several long minutes before he gave an affirmative nod to the rugged man, "You can tag along."
"Either way – we have other pressing matters at hand. Quirrell is getting closer to moving past our obstacles," Snape stated, his voice cold and sharp as he reminded them all of the imminent danger.
"He will not get past my obstacle, Severus, there is no need for worry," reassured Dumbledore, looking up into his friends black eyes that were much alike the black lake in winter – cold, dark, and hiding what's below the surface.
"And Longbottom? He seems rather determined to get past those obstacles with his idiot of a friend Weasley too. They'll probably be killed just by Sprout's plant. Neither of those two have any brains or talent, and seem to despise the single Gryffindor in their year who has both. Weasley's treatment of her is bordering on bullying," Snape snapped – and Dumbledore recalled he had been teaching them only an hour ago.
"I'd advise you speak to Minerva if you are worried for Granger, Severus – I must say, I am quite proud of you looking after your students in such a way."
Lupin grinned at the scowling Snape, knowing full well the effect it had on his childhood enemy. Dumbledore allowed himself a brief smile – the marauder's rivalry with Snape was bemusing in hindsight, and romantic when viewed through the nostalgia of James and Lily's loving relationship.
"She should have been a Slytherin, or at least a Ravenclaw. If it were not so absurd, I would accuse the damned hat of giving Gryffindor Granger just to give them a fighting chance," Snape accused, the hat stirring slightly as it seemed to twitch upon its shelf.
"You're still a miserable git aren't you, Severus?" grumbled Moody who was still leant on his staff – moving almost as little as a statue.
Dumbledore tutted, but more in jest than disapproval, "Come now, Moody. Either way, we can dissuade Longbottom from his endeavours as noble as they may be – Corvus Black remains the most pressing and important matter as of the current time."
