Harry burst through the tent flaps and set down the firewood as he made his way towards the table where Arthur Weasley was sipping on a butterbeer and talking with Bill, his eldest son. Daphne, Tracey, Blaise, and Abra soon followed him in and he ignored Ron as he jumped to his feet and pointed at the accusingly.

"Oi, mate, what do you think you're doing bringing those bloody snakes in here? Isn't it bad enough that you have to hang around with them at school?"

"Arthur, Bill, we need to speak to you privately," Harry said, the fire in his eyes telling both men that he was not about to take no for an answer. "It's rather important."

Arthur and Bill shared a look and nodded before following Harry and company outside the tent where took out his wand and cast a series of some of the most powerful privacy wards he knew, not even paying attention to the fact that he was doing it completely silently, or that the magic was actually flowing out of his hand, not his wand.

"Harry, what's going on?" Bill asked suspiciously as he looked between his youngest brother's best friend and the four others behind him.

"We think that there's going to be an attack," Harry said bluntly. "Tonight."

"Harry, the World Cup is one of the most heavily guarded events ever," Arthur replied skeptically. "No one could attack here without being stopped after firing off their first spell."

"Be that as it may, my father and Lucius Malfoy are planning something for tonight," Daphne argued. "My mother overheard them."

"And why would you tell us and not, say, the authorities?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

"Mister Weasley, if I may," Abra said, stepping in before things could escalate. "That was our next destination. At an event of this size, chaos and panic will be more important to these men than a body count. We are simply telling you first because Harry insisted that you and your family be warned. It cannot hurt to prepare for the worst."

"I can go and talk to a couple of my buddies on guard duty," Bill offered.

Arthur looked between them all indecisively before finally sighing and straightening his posture. "Before you do, find Charlie and have him join you. When you're done, find and warn Percy, then apparate back here and make sure that the twins understand what's going on and that they are not to let Ginny out of their sight. We'll wait and see if anything is happening, but at the first sign of trouble, we leave immediately. Once the kids have been evacuated we'll come back here and help where we can."

Bill nodded and ran off while Harry dismissed the privacy charms surrounding them. "I'm going to be helping in the containment," he announced. Arthur looked like he wanted to protest, but one look into Harry's eyes and he felt as if he was looking at a warrior preparing for battle rather than a fourteen year old boy.

Sighing, he nodded reluctantly. "Do you have a means to get somewhere safe?"

"I do," Harry replied. "I'll make sure Tracey, Blaise, and Daphne get out of here, then assist with guarding the evacuation from beneath my cloak." Arthur nodded and stormed off to find the nearest auror while Tracey snorted.

"Fat chance, Potter. We're not going anywhere."

"Fine," Harry grunted, turning to Daphne his face softened. "Sunshine, when's the soonest your mum and sister can get out of here?"

"I dunno," Daphne replied. "But if the authorities are already being warned, then speaking to her is my next destination."

"Before you go, wait for a second," Harry said, running back into the tent. They could hear Ron shouting as he demanded to know what was going on, before Harry ran out with a handful of candies in his hand. "Here, these should help your mum convince Cyrus that Astoria is sick. That way she can bring her back right away." Daphne's chest tightened at the thoughtfulness behind the action and she accepted the sweets without a word. "I'm gonna go and tell Ron and Hermione what's going on, I'll see you guys later."

Harry turned around but stopped when Abra called his name. Turning around, she pulled out a shiny galleon and handed it to him. Holding it in his hand, Harry could tell there was something different about it and raised his eyebrow curiously. "Once you have evacuated the others you can use it to transport yourself to me. I will be staying with Blaise, Tracey, and Daphne all night, so we can group together."

"Thank you, Abra," Harry said before turning and walking into the tent.

"Are you about done playing cloak and dagger with your pals?" Hermione asked scathingly.

"Not quite," Harry replied. "Though I am willing to let you both in the game if you could put your distain for Daphne and the others aside for the second."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked while Hermione huffed at how unflappable Harry seemed.

"The reason I was with Daphne was because she was warning me that she thinks her father and some other dark wizards are planning something for after the match."

"And you trust her?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

Rolling his eyes, Harry focused his magic and sent out a tiny pulse, making her yelp as her earrings suddenly disintegrated into ash. "Yes, I do."

Hermione had the decency to look ashamed while Ron just looked confusedly.

"I think you lost me, mate."

"Some of Voldemort's old supporters who managed to worm their way out of going to Azkaban are planning to spread a bit of panic tonight," Harry said bluntly making Ron, Hermione, and a nearby Fred, George, and Ginny flinch. "I don't care about any of your personal views on my other friends, but I'm not about to take this kind of things lightly. The most important thing to do though is wait until anything actually happens so as not to spread a panic."

"Why?" Ron asked fiercely. "We should just find them now and hex them before they get a chance to do anything."

"Sorry, Ron," George began. "But if you plan on storming up to a bunch of fully trained former Death Eaters and attacking them out of the blue…"

"Then George and I are gonna have to stun you right now and drag you back home," Fred finished. "Otherwise Death Eaters will be the least of our worries when Mum finds out."

"Not to mention you would just be arrested for assault," Hermione added. "And many of the darker families hold pretty high positions of authority. How do you think Greengrass knew what was coming."

"I'm gonna go set up some wards around the portkey sites," Harry announced as he walked out of the tent without another word. He threw on his cloak and sprinted towards the woods where he unbuttoned his shirt and allowed Kyddris to finally release himself. Already his familiar had grown to be about eight feet at the shoulder and about seventeen from tip to tail. "Try to stay hidden in the air as much as possible," Harry said. "We don't need people panicking just yet."

"I'll stay high above the campground," Kyddris hissed. "If I see anything, I'll let you know."

Harry nodded with a smile and did up his shirt while Kyddris zoomed into the air. He wasn't the fastest dragon out there, in fact, Ukrainian Ironbellies were notorious for being slightly slower than other dragons due to the massive size they eventually grew up to, but even then it only took seconds for him to disappear in the bright sky, his superior eyesight allowing him to survey the ground below for anything suspicious. He had just finished buttoning up his shirt when he heard Hermione and Ron calling his name as they came running into the woods.

"Harry!" Ron shouted as they came to a stop. He and Hermione doubled over and took a couple minutes just to gather their breaths before he continued. "Don't you think you're being a bit paranoid, mate?"

"Ron's right," Hermione added. "You haven't even started your fourth year, what do you think you could do that the hundreds of aurors guarding this place can't?"

"That's not the point, Hermione," Harry said, gritting his teeth.

"Then what is the point?" Hermione asked. "Because it sounds more like you're just itching for a fight you can't possibly win!"

"Winning?!" Harry shouted. "It's not about winning! This isn't a game! If I can increase the odds of a single person not getting hurt by even one percent, then I have to help!"

"No, Harry, you don't!" Ron yelled. "You don't always have to be the one rushing in to save the day! Just let someone else handle it!"

"Look, you two can either help me, or you can go back to the tent," Harry said. "If you don't understand why I have to do this, then I don't think I can explain it to you."

Both Ron and Hermione looked conflicted for a moment before Ron turned around and pulled Hermione away with him. "We'll see you later, mate."

"Yeah," Harry replied sadly. "See you."

The sun was setting when Harry finally left the woods and made his way back to the tent. It had taken him several hours of hard transfiguration to prepare his final set of defences, and more time still to inscribe the proper runes. It wasn't exactly what Harry would call the ideal test environment, but he figured it was as good a time as any to see how they worked in a true combat situation. Zephyr had appeared to join him and was perched on his shoulder as he wound his way through the crowds. Together they caught up to the Weasley's just as they were entering the stadium. Ron and Hermione were both looking rather apologetic, and Harry was hopeful that maybe they would be able to get a quiet word in and put their earlier argument behind them. His hopes were dashed however when a rather portly gentleman in a dark green bowler hat strolled up to him and threw his arm around Harry's shoulders, ignoring the way Harry stiffened uncomfortably at the contact.

"Harry, m'boy! A pleasure to fancy that this is where we would finally get to meet! I'm Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic."

"The pleasure is all mine, sir," Harry replied politely. He had already done his research on Fudge and knew just what kind of man he was dealing with here.

"Oh, Harry, you simply must join me in the Minister's box! There are some people there who I know would love to meet you!" Fudge turned to an uncomfortable looking Mr. Weasley. "Arthur, you don't mind if I steal Harry here for a bit do you?"

"Not at all, Minister," Arthur replied, smiling awkwardly. There wasn't much he could do, and the look on his face said as much as he looked towards Harry with pity.

Ron and Hermione, though, were not so understanding, and their faces morphed into scowls as they turned away from him and simply continued up the stairs. Burying his sadness, Harry put on his best smile and followed Fudge up to his private box overlooking the Quidditch pitch.

"Harry, allow me to introduce you to several friends of mine," Fudge said happily, leading Harry around like a prized show animal. Stopping in front of a congregation of foreign wizards, Harry was secretly very pleased as Fudge introduced him to the Bulgarian Minister for Magic.

"It's an honour to meet you, Minister Oblansk," Harry said in fluent Bulgarian.

Oblansk's eyes widened and a smile broke through his severe expression. "I vos not avare that you could speak Bulgarski, Gospodin Potter.

"Obalonsk! I didn't know you could speak English!" Fudge exclaimed, feeling left out already. "You've been letting me mime everything to you all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," Oblansk deadpanned, clearly not amused at Fudge's constant failure to so much make the effort to say his name properly.

"Please forgive him, Minister," Harry said with a bow. "As I'm sure you've seen, leading a country towards strength and prosperity must surely make a man weary enough to occasionally forget the charm that got him elected in the first place." He had done a fair bit of reading and received some advice from Sirius, and Daphne in her letters, concerning how to behave should he happen to run into people from Bulgaria, among other countries that would be attending the World Cup.

"It almost sounds like you are insinuating something, Mister Potter," a second voice chimed in, though this one was tinged with a rather distinct accent.

"Ah! Harry, this is Lucas Delacour, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the French Ministry of Magic," Fudge said happily, turning Harry towards the new addition to the conversation. Monsieur Delacour was near the same height as Harry (which wasn't saying much for a full grown man), and rather plump with a little, pointed black beard. His grey eyes shone with mischief as he shook Harry's hand. Standing next to him was a tall, young woman who easily stood a head taller than him, with long silvery hair and striking blue eyes. Harry felt a tingle in the back of his head as he regarded her, as if there was a second voice in his head that was doing nothing but blabber on about how beautiful the woman was, and how he should be the one standing next to her rather than Monsieur Delacour. The voice only grew louder when two girls stepped forward, both of them looking like younger, carbon copies of their mother, but the moment he looked into the woman's eyes, he felt Nightfire roar from within him, and the voice was silenced as quickly as it came.

"Zis ees ma femme, Apolline, and my daughters, Fleur and Gabrielle," Lucas said, his eyes sparkling with interest as he watched Harry's interaction with the three women.

"It's an honour to make your acquaintance," Harry said in French as he bowed and took Apolline's hand, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. Apolline and her daughters giggled, and Harry started to feel that strange tingling again, until he suddenly smelled vanilla and parchment floating through the air and felt a surge of anger from Daphne through their connection. He wanted to turn and find her among the many others milling about the minister's box, but knew that in the long run, making a good impression with these foreign dignitaries was more important. "I'm afraid I don't know to what insinuations you were referring, Monsieur Delacour. If there was an inference to be made, I can assure you it wasn't intentional."

"They rarely are," Lucas replied with a knowing smirk.

"Great Merlin, Harry, I never knew that you had received an education in so many languages!" Fudge exclaimed, a slightly panicked look in his eye. "I hope they are not taking time away from your education at Hogwarts."

"Of course not, Minister," Harry replied smoothly, struggling to maintain his composure as he felt Daphne approaching him from behind, mischief flowing through their bond.

"Potter, I didn't expect you to be here," she said, her icy tone nearly making him laugh as Fudge huffed from being shunted off to the side once more.

"Minister Fudge was kind enough to invite me to watch the match from here," Harry replied. "It's good to see you, Greengrass."

"Daphne, sweetie, who is this?" Daphne turned as a woman whom Harry thought was an older clone of his best friend approached. The only difference was her eyes were a warm hazel as opposed to Daphne's icy blue.

"Mother, this is Harry Potter, a friend from school," Daphne said. "Potter, this is my mother, Lady Penelope Greengrass."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Greengrass," Harry said with a bow after Daphne's mother had taken the mandatory glance towards his forehead that everyone did when they first met him. Luckily Fudge had been called away to introduce the teams and start the game, leaving Harry with one less thing to worry about as the moment he had been dreading since he read in one of Daphne's letters that she and her family would be attending the World Cup also. "Your daughter has been a great friend to me over the past year."

"Daphne, you never told us that Harry Potter had chosen to befriend you," a cool voice said. Harry froze as a familiar man walked up to stand next to Penelope and wrap his arm around her waist possessively. "It's an honour to finally meet someone of your acumen, Mister Potter. I am Cyrus Greengrass, Daphne's father."

It took everything Harry had learned about Occlumency and emotional control from Severus to keep from transforming right there and tearing Cyrus Temple to shreds. His cold blue eyes were so similar, yet so different from Daphne's and Harry had to quickly force himself not to snarl at the emerald ring he had already seen once before in a classroom adorning his outstretched hand. Focusing on his own rings, Harry materialised the Potter family ring as he reached out and shook Cyrus's hand.

"Lord Greengrass, I can't begin to tell you how great it is to finally meet a member of one of my family's old alliances."

Cyrus narrowed his eyes slightly and tightened his grip as his gaze flicked to Harry's own ring. "I'm sure it is. You must have studied your family history rather thoroughly to manage to find anything about the old alliances. Alas," he sighed in false nostalgia. "It is always sad to see such connections become lost to time and… tragedy."

"Papa, why does this man hate Monsieur Harry?" Lucas's youngest daughter asked bluntly. "They've only just met."

"Gabrielle!" Apolline admonished while Harry looked at them curiously. "You know very well that you are not to use your abilities like that!"

"How do you know I hate him?" Harry asked, thoroughly intrigued, while another part of him was suddenly extremely cautious. If a little girl, no older than seven or eight could read him so easily, had the others?

"Please excuse my daughter's lack of tact," Lucas said apologetically. "My girls all have veela blood running through their veins. It makes them particularly perceptive to the emotions of others."

"I see," Harry replied. "That must be a useful skill for someone of your position." Luckily, Cyrus had wandered off to join Fudge and several others to watch the game. Harry was vaguely aware of loud cries of joy and outrage erupting throughout the crowd as one of the players was apparently thrown off his broom.

"I wouldn't worry about Delacour spilling your secrets, Potter," Oblansk told him, finally breaking away from Fudge and his band of sycophants, though the Harry couldn't help but find the harshness of his mother tongue robbed his reassurances of a certain degree of comfort. "His honour and pride are as legendary as they are foolish."

"Daphne, you didn't tell me that the Lord Potter was so… diplomatic," Penelope whispered.

"Technically, Lady Greengrass, I won't be Lord Potter until next year," Harry corrected. Penelope had the decency to blush, and Harry decided to seize the opportunity that suddenly presented itself. "Sirs, while I have your attention, I believe there is something that you should both know."

"Oh?" Lucas asked, noticing Harry's sudden shift in tone.

Shifting between French, Bulgarian, and English, Harry relayed his warning concerning the possibility of Death Eaters attacking the campground after the match, while Daphne cornered Penelope into corroborating his claims.

"If zis is true, vhy are you not telling your own Minister?" asked quietly as Harry silently cast a variety of privacy wards.

"Minister Fudge is a peacetime leader," Penelope offered. "Even if he weren't bought and paid for by the likes of my husband and his friends, he would rather go on like everything was fine than risk starting a panic and losing his standing with the people."

"You seem awfully quick to try and supplant your 'usband's plans, Madame Greengrass," Lucas remarked suspiciously.

"Cyrus Temple is not worthy of leading the Noble House of Greengrass," Penelope replied hotly. "Contrary to what he thinks, I will not allow him to drag my family down with his bigotry and rhetoric. The old alliances are still alive, and neither time, tragedy, nor he will ever change that."

"Some friends of mine have quietly contacted the aurors guarding the World Cup," Harry said reaching into his pockets and pulling out a handful of small, pebble sized diamonds. "All of you should take one of these."

"What are zey?" Lucas asked as he picked up one of the diamonds and gasped at the complex, powerful magic flowing through it.

"It's an extra layer of defence that I've been working on," Harry replied. "They might not do much, but there's a possibility they can save one of our lives."

"Why do you have so many?" Daphne asked.

"I've been slipping them into the pockets of as many people as I could," Harry replied. "The jewel is transfigured, so it will probably burn out fairly quickly, but it should still buy you time to escape."

"If what you say ees true, this is a very impressive display of majeec, Monsier Potter," Lucas remarked as he took some extras for his family.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said with a nod. "My familiar is currently watching the campground from the skies, as well, and will help where he can."

"Zee bird upon your shoulder is not your familiar?" Oblansk asked.

"No, Zephyr is a close friend and guide," Harry explained. "He says that he'll help where he can as well though."

"Harry, we should go find Blaise and Tracey," Daphne said as Harry pocketed his remaining diamonds.

Harry nodded and turned to both men, bowing low in respect. "It was an honour to meet the both of you, and I hope we can speak another time."

"I hope so 'as well," Lucas said. "I would definitely like to know more about 'ow a boy such as yourself acts so maturely in this sort of situation."

Harry shrugged. "You start getting used to it after the second attempt on your life at school." And turned away, leaving a stunned pair of foreigners and a cautiously hopeful mother behind as they ran down the stairs in search of their friends.

Apparently the match had already ended by the time they just made it to the ground level of the stadium. Harry used the small portkey Abra had given him to warp himself and Daphne to her location in order to hand out the last of the transfigured diamonds. They had almost started to hope that they were, in fact, wrong, when late into the night the sounds of celebration to change into cries of terror and Harry clenched his wand tightly in his hand as he watched a contingent of wizards in dark robes, wearing white skull masks marching between the tents, firing spells and destroying everything in their way while a group of people were floated above them in the air, conjured nooses tied around their necks as they were forced to dance around, like grotesque marionettes.

"There's too many of them for us to help without getting in the aurors' way," Harry shouted as he ducked a stream of fire that gave off a distinct lack of heat. His only indication that it was dangerous was Tracey's yelp as the edge of her jacket caught fire before Abra put it out with a swish of her wand. "We need to get to the woods."

A crack of thunder told Harry that Zephyr had joined the fight, while he groaned when a loud roar and a dark shape dropping into the woods produced more screams.

"Real subtle, Kyddris," he muttered, shaking his head at the sheepish apology he heard in his head.

He stopped running when he saw a group of eight Death Eaters chase a pair of girls into the woods, deliberately away from where the portkeys would be waiting. Growling when he caught sight of a flash of silver hair in the moonlight, Harry sprinted after them, ignoring his friends' shouts behind him as his wand vibrated in his hand. The Death Eaters stopped as they cornered the girls, whom Harry now recognised as Fleur and Gabrielle, and were laughing as one of them waked towards the two girls, unbuckling his pants. Feeling his magic boiling through him, Harry raised his arm and shouted the first spell that came to mind.

"Reducto!" The magic poured out of him, and he watched in stunned horror as his wand lit up and shook violently before crumbling away between his fingers while a bright blue light rocketed towards the man with his pants down and slammed into the base of his spine. Blood and flesh exploded out in a grisly flower of red and Harry could see the bits of obliterated spine lodged in the exposed muscles of the man's back as he soared over the girls and slammed into the trunk of a nearby tree, while several of his friends were sent flying from the force.

Harry froze as he stared at the corpse of the man he had just killed. He didn't mean for that to happen. He just meant to send him flying, not tear right through him like he was made of tissue paper. Only his instincts kept him from being killed as he heard Daphne scream his name as she, Blaise, Tracey, and Abra started to hurl spells while Fleur picked up the fallen man's wand and joined the fight.

Only Abra was actually able to hold her own, and Harry growled as he saw one of the men who he had sent flying stand up and point his wand at Daphne's back. Running as fast as he could, he tackled Daphne to the ground before the man even finished saying the incantation.

"Avada Kedavra!" There was a flash of green, followed by a loud cracking sound and a pop. The entire fight froze as the man who had cast the curse was slumped on the ground, dead, while the one who had happened to be standing next to him was screaming in pain. Both men had been impaled by several large pieces of steaming ice, while much of the area around them looked the same. Blood pooled on the ground where the two men lay, and Harry took the opportunity to shift into his animagus form while Kyddris dropped through the trees, roaring angrily alongside Zephyr, who had grown his body to slightly larger than that of an elephant, his six wings beating furiously while electricity crackled all around him.

The remaining Death Eaters screamed in fear, but were no match for the combined might of the three beasts, who viciously tore through them in a matter of seconds.

When they were finished, Harry returned to his human form and helped Fleur and her sister to their feet while Kyddris and Zephyr gave Gabrielle a comforting nuzzle before returning to their respective clandestine forms while Harry called for Tipsy and Dobby.

"Tipsy, get these two to their father. Tell him that they were being attacked and that Fleur lost her wand. Dobby, could you bring us home please?

Both elves nodded and did as told, and as soon as Abra had read the slip of parchment Dobby had given her and burned it away, they were all standing safely in the foyer of Potter Manor, where in a strange act of unity, Sirius and Severus were both standing with identical looks of worry on their faces.

"Yes were all fine," Harry said pre-emptively. "My wand got destroyed in a fight but other than that and a couple of scrapes and bruises, we're all unharmed. Now if you'll excuse me I have calls to make and letters to write." With that he stormed off towards the Lord's Office while the others all watched after him.

"That is one commanding fourteen year-old," Abra noted, breaking the tension.

Sirius sighed and shook his head, laughing. "You have no idea."

"The only person more domineering is Daphne," Tracey teased.

Daphne rolled her eyes and punched her friend in the arm. She had just seen Harry take a life. Several, in fact. She could already feel over their bond that while he seemed to be handling it fairly well after his momentary freeze, there was a part of him that was changed. He was still the same boy she had befriended a year ago, but there was something that was suddenly missing.

Deep down, she knew that there would be more deaths in their near future, and worried about how she would handle it when she was forced to lose that part of herself too.

*(OoO)*

"So there's something I don't understand," Blaise said as they strolled down a Canadian equivalent of Diagon Alley. It had been three days since the attack on the World Cup, and Harry had finally decided that he needed to go and get a new wand. Plus, he needed to get out of the house. He had spent the last three days holed up in his office, answering and sending letters, while deflecting the efforts of both Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley to find him and have him locked away until the school year began. Daphne, Tracey, and Blaise had decided to stay with him, while Abra returned home, where she would deliver a letter to Tracey's parents alluding to where she was and letting them know she was probably safer than anyone else in Magical Britain.

"Just one?" Harry asked teasingly, laughing when Blaise punched him in the shoulder.

"Well, most of our other questions can be answered with: 'of course he did that'," Daphne groused. She had been woken up earlier than she would have liked by the sound of Harry and Sirius dueling, and was determined to let the world know how unhappy she was because of it.

Harry through his head back and laughed. "That's fair. So what were you wondering?"

"How were you able to speak fluent Italian?" Blaise demanded.

"As well as French and Bulgarian," Daphne added. "You didn't even have an accent."

"Oh, that," Harry mumbled. "Apparently I'm something called a Speaker. It's a rare ability that allows me to understand and speak any language so long as I'm talking with a speaker of that language."

"Blimey, Potter," Tracey exclaimed. "Are there any more unfair abilities that you want to tell us about?"

"At the moment?" Harry asked. "Not really."

"Oh, ha ha."

"So that means there are other abilities?" Daphne deduced.

Harry smiled and nodded as the idea of learning something banished the tired grumpiness from her eyes. "Apparently, the unique mix of things in my blood activated a bunch of latent abilities that most thought had died out."

They had reached their destination and Harry held open the door for his friends before entering the store behind them.

"Whaddya want?" A mountain of a man yelled as he stepped into the front. He seemed to be of indigenous descent, was dressed in a red plaid shirt and jeans, and had a severe look on his face beneath the mane of wild, black hair covering his face and head.

"I'm here to get a new wand," Harry said, summoning all of his family rings. "I was told by a friend that you were one of the best crafters in the world."

"Really?" The man growled, drawing his wand and disarming Harry's friends before he could blink. "Tell me who told you about me so I can gut 'em like the squealing pig they are."

A crack of lightning made the man freeze as Zephyr suddenly appeared between him and Harry, who cast a quick wandless spell to summon his friends' wands back to him.

Hello, Kanen. It's been a while.

The man, Kanen, scowled and lowered his wand. "Of course it would be you," he grunted turning toward the back. "Boy, come with me."

Harry followed Kanen into the back and examined the multitude of different jarred materials lining the small workshop.

"The bird misled you, kid, I make staves, not wands."

"He said as much," Harry replied.

"Then what the fuck are you doing here?!" Kanen shouted. "You want some namby-pamby stick to wave around and impress your friends, take a little swim and go ask one of the wand makers in your country."

"No." Harry replied with a scowl.

"Excuse me?" Kanen asked in a dangerously quiet tone. All around them the jars started to rattle and shake as the two of them flexed their respective powers against each other in a silent battle of wills. Daphne could feel the power Kaden was throwing around, and was filled with fear as the air seemed to congest itself with the sheer power filling the little shop. Harry matched him and she couldn't help but look between him and Kanen, and Tracey and Blaise, who had both fallen to their knees and were gasping for breath.

"You are going to make me a staff," Harry demanded. "But first, I need a wand. In fact, you're going to make me two."

Kanen stared down into his eyes, and Harry simply rose to the challenge as a fire started behind them and the glowed a powerful green that was wildly different to Kanen than the light from the spell that had made the brat famous in the first place. Finally after several tense minutes of silence, Kanen through his head back and released a booming laugh.

"You got balls kid, I'll give you that! But then again, that egotistical ball of thunder and feathers wouldn't have chosen you if you didn't. Alright, I'll make you your tools, kid, something tells me that this is going to be my most challenging and interesting project yet.

Harry smiled and nodded in thanks as he followed Kanen around the workshop to pick the various components that would make up his wands and allow him to truly harness the rising tide of power he held within his body. After discussion with Sirius, Severus, Griphook, Remus, and Daphne, as well as letters he had received from Lucas Delacour, Minister Oblansk, and Daphne's mother. They had decided that this year would be when he seized the fame thrust upon him and start making a name for himself. That way, when he revealed himself to be the one pulling so many strings, he would already have a foot to stand on to certify his claims.

Letters had already been sent to several different newspapers and magazines, and the stage had been set. The only thing Harry had to do now would be to finally stop playing the part he had been forced into his first year, and confidently, finally, undeniably be himself.