I used the translator for Scotland and Northern Ireland accents, so I may be wrong. I can't find one for Wales though, only the language. Also, I'm not British, only trying to do a British accent, so forgive me if it's not correct. English is not my first language. Also, I tried to get other countries accents, but I apologize if I'm not very good with it.
Declaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Narnia, or any other anime/manga and book works mentioned.
Chapter 11: Unexpected Visits
Peter was exited for the flying lessons that would began on Thursday. He was really happy when he saw the noticed pinned up in the Gryffindor common room. He couldn't wait to show Arthur, and maybe than the man would finally get him a broom! Peter had to tell this to Ivan and Edmund.
Although, Harry looked really down and worried about embarrassing himself in front of Draco, which both Peter and Ron tried to comfort him. Harry said that everyone from wizarding family seemed to know how to fly already, and he was really worried about that. However, Peter told him that he's never been on a broom before, and he guessed that Edmund hasn't either, though he wasn't sure about Ivan- but guessed that the Russian could somehow make it work.
When Ron asked him how come, Peter told him that his family rarely had time, because the adults were always busy and his mother and sister were the only ones usually home with him. Otherwise, he'd be dropped off to a caretaker in Denmark for a while. That seemed to have made Ron a little bit envious, but later pitied Peter for it as well.
Quidditch seemed to be a popular subject among wizarding families, as they often talked about it, and Peter didn't quite understand why. He and Dean Thomas had gotten into a big argument with Ron about football once. Ron couldn't see what was so exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly, and Peter said that Arthur told him that football is a gentleman's game played by thugs, meaning it's for the trill and fun of hurting your opponents with said ball without being penalized. It was the one time where gentlemen could act like thugs and go all out. Ron still didn't seem to get it, so Peter promised that he'll teach him the game, he just had to write a letter to Arthur and ask the man to send a ball over soon.
During breakfast on Thursday, Hermione gave the Gryffindors some flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages and Neville and Peter seemed to be the only two to listen to her, Neville even worse than Peter because he was hanging on her every word while Peter just wanted to hear. Though everybody else seemed bored and was very pleased when her lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.
Arthur hadn't sent the children any letters, and children had not sent him any either, deciding to wait and send them all together in one day, the day Ivan sends his monthly reports so that Lancelot would only have to fly once and, hopefully, not carry too many letters. The only letters Peter had were letters to Arthur and the family, and the ones to Wendy. Edmund only had Lucy and Eustace to write to, and Ivan only had to write a report to Arthur, so in total, there should only be about fives letters at the most.
Harry also hadn't gotten any letters since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always brining him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table. But today, it seemed he was even happier to get a letter from his father, who said he'd look into what Draco wanted to know.
A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.
"It's a Rememberball!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do." Peter was interested in that and thought maybe he should give one to Arthur some day, to remind him of how old and forgetful he is. "Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns re- oh…" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet. "You've forgotten something…"
Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.
Harry, Ron, and Peter jumped to their feet. Peter had just wanted to get the Remembrall back while Ron and Harry were half hoping for a reason to fight Draco, but Minerva, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor," Neville answered.
Scowling, Draco quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.
"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him just as Ivan and Edmund walked up.
"What happened here?" asked Edmund.
"Nothing," said Harry. "Just Malfoy again."
"Ahh." He looked to Peter. "So, exited for that flying lesson, Pete?"
"You bet!" said Peter. "I can't wait to bother the Jerk to get me a broom later!"
"Hmm," said Edmund. "You really want that, don't you?"
"Well of course!" said Peter. "Not only can I use it to fly away from the Jerk, but I can also use it as a weapon!"
"Da," said Ivan. "I believe Maria Clara de la Cruz uses her broom to hit Alfred once or twice during their time together in the Philippines. Though her older brother, Jose Hernandez Carriedo Martinez, loves just shooting him to get Alfred to wake up on some mornings. I love that Mexican da. But I don't really like the fact that he keeps missing Alfred's head by a inch every time."
Edmund got what that meant right away, and smirked as he thought back to America and Russia's relationship with Mexico- he and Eustace had taken to Arthur's library quite nicely, and had wanted to study up on what they had missed out on. Although he does wonder about the Philippines involvement with America, as there seemed to be more there than Russia was letting out.
The other Gryffindors, on the other hand, looked horrified at what they had heard, and not far from them, Draco was also listening in as well.
"Wait," Hermione spoke up. "You said they're siblings. How come their last names are different?"
"It is similar to Alfred and Piter da," said Ivan. "Except with them, Alfred left the family by disowning Big Brother and then took up a new last name da. Maria was adopted."
"Wait. Going back to what you said before, Ivan. Jose misses?" asked Peter, surprised. "He can't be as bad as Arthur, can he?"
"Net. Alfred is just lucky. He moves out of the way quick enough most times, but other times, Jose does miss da. And Big Brother is not that bad when he really puts his mind to it da. Where did you think Alfred got the genes from?"
Just than, Lancelot dropped a package on the table, in front of Peter, before flying down to land on his shoulder. Peter looked at the package questioningly before looking to Ivan.
"Net," said Ivan. "I have not sent anything yet."
"Neither have I," said Edmund.
Peter looked back to the box and took off the letter. He opened it and said, "It's from Alistair. He said that Dylan and Seamus came over and that the family made some sweets for us. Dylan says here that Arthur was not allowed into the kitchen!"
Reading that, Peter than happily opened the package while Lancelot flew over to Ivan, who took the parchment and borrowed someone's quill to write a reply back to Alistair on the back of that paper. That was when he noticed the Russian words now appearing at the bottom of the letter, and looking at the happy Peter who was giving out his sweets to the others, read what Arthur had to say.
"What is it, Ivan?" Edmund asked, coming closer to him so that others wouldn't hear.
"Nichego," he said. "Big Brother is just telling me to send my reports soon, and that he was going to the monthly World Meeting this Sunday, the 15th, so he should be able to talk to one of the Baltics and get my work for me da. Or at least, a report on what is currently happening. Not that I need, nor do I want, to know about it da."
"I see. Peter, are there any Turkish Delights?"
"Yeah, Lucy made lots!" said Peter, giving Edmund a small rectangular box.
Ivan smiled, handing back the quill and instead of sending a reply back, he sent Lancelot off and threw the letter in front of him, where it disappeared into ashes, to the shock of many.
After that, Ivan joined them on the sweets.
At three-thirty that afternoon, the first year Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. But somehow, Peter found it odd and it seemed to him as though they were smiling and waving at him in a friendly manner. Edmund also found the place interesting as well, and Ivan only stared in thought at it, before smiling and agreeing with him that indeed, the forbidden forest was an interesting place to be.
The other houses were already there, and so were many broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Fred and George had complained about the school brooms to the first years once, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. Edmund said that it was good protection and way of learning, which Peter and Ivan agreed.
Their teacher, Madam hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk, and Ivan seemed to find her rather interesting.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
"I wonder if this is what Alfred had to go through with Gilbert," said Peter, standing in between Edmund and Harry.
"Net," said Ivan, who was on the other side of Edmund. "That Prussian is worse than this. Your brother almost cried during those terrible," he smiled widely, "terrible winter days."
"Prussia?" asked Edmund.
"Da. Prussia sent help to America during the American Revolution. I believe it was just to spite England da. The two of them was never really on good terms much da. Ever since England broke their alliance in the middle of the Austrian War of Succession da. Ahh, those good old days..."
"You three over there stop your chatters and listen up!" Madam Hooch shouted, getting back everyone's attention from the rather interesting conversations. "Now, stick out your right hand over your broom," the children looked down at their old and warn out brooms, "and say 'Up!'"
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom, along with Peter, Edmund, and Ivan's, jumped into their hands at once, but it was one of the few that did. Once everyone had their broom in their hand, Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. When she passed Ivan, Peter, and Edmund, Madam Hooch had raised an eyebrow at their poster, but didn't say anything and walked away to tell Draco what he had been doing wrong for years now.
Peter and Edmund shared a look of confusion, but shrugged it off until Ivan said, "We have military peoples in our family, da." And then they understood why Madam Hooch had stopped.
"I see," said Madam Hooch, having heard. "So that's why… Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle- twelve feet- twenty feet.
Neville's scared white face looked down at the ground falling away. Scared and frightened and not forgetting what he was supposed to do to get back down, Neville accidentally commanded the broom to take off. He gasped as the broom shot off, and held on tight.
"Neville!" Peter shouted, shooting up as well.
"Mr. Kirkland!" Madam Hooch shouted after him.
"Peter!" Edmund followed him off the ground while Ivan watched them carefully.
"Mr. Pevensie! Come back here!" She would have done something, but Ivan's hand stopped her.
"Prodozhdite Professor, wait," he said.
Everyone watched as Peter and Edmund chased Neville's broom around. Finally, both caught up and told the scared Neville to pull up before they hit the wall. Neville did not seem to comprehend this, still too frightened. Peter and Edmund met eyes with each other and nodded in understanding before Edmund grabbed onto Neville's hand, pulling him over to his broom and pulled up just in time to avoid the wall. But Neville's broom did not miss and instantly broke upon contact.
"Whew," Edmund breathed out, hovering in the air with Peter.
"Good job, boys!" Madam Hooch shouted over. "Now come down!"
Neville looked down at the ground, and seeing how high they were, screamed and slipped sideways, out of Edmund's reach.
"Wait- Neville!" Edmund shouted after him.
Peter flew down to get the boy and intercepted his blow. Since Peter was still a first timer, he didn't really know what he was doing and so, ended up catching Neville, but flew too fast toward the others. Everyone scattered away just as they came, Edmund coming on the other side and pulling both child off the broom. All three landed on the ground, rolling about a few feet before stopping, Edmund above Peter and Neville. The broom that Peter was on was easily caught by Ivan, who merely held his hand up in wait for it before making a grab for it when it came. He then made his way over to them with both brooms in his hand. Edmund's broom was lying on the ground, some distance away from the three lumps of boys.
Everyone crowded around them and Madam Hooch bent over their forms. Edmund got up first, his left arm bleeding. Neville had his back to Peter, who was at the bottom, and did not look too good.
Edmund helped the boy up and off Peter.
"Ow," said Neville when Edmund pulled his arm.
"A broken wrist?" said Edmund, Ivan coming up to him with their broom in his hands.
"Nothing to worry about da," said Ivan. He then looked to Peter, who began to sit up.
"Are you alright, Mr. Kirkland?" Madam Hooch asked, bending over him.
"Yes," Peter answered. "I'm fine."
"Oh my god, Peter!" Ron grasped, seeing the blood rolling down his head. "You're head."
"Ha?"
"You're bleeding!" said Harry.
Peter touched the blood on his head and looked at it. "Oh," he said. "I guess I am. Don't worry," he got up, but almost fell had Madam Hooch not caught him. "I'm used to worse." He winched a little. "Besides, this is nothing. It'll go away soon."
Madam Hooch turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take these boys to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dears."
She led Peter off to the hospital wing. Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutched his wrist and hobbled off with Edmund, who had his arms around him in support as they walked away. Edmund looked back to Ivan and nodded at him, to whom he smiled back at and glanced to Peter, who smiled weakly back at him. Edmund nodded and they disappeared back into the castle.
No sooner were they out of earshot than Draco burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins, minus Ivan joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
"Lay off, Parkinson," said Ron. "Besides, he wouldn't have fallen had that Slytherin Pevensie not let go of him."
"Ron, Edmund did not let go of Neville," Harry reason. "Neville fidgeted against Edmund and fell off himself. Besides, he saved both Peter and Neville."
"Yeah, by tackling them both to the ground," said Ron. "They should lose points for this!"
"For what? Helping out a fellow class member, Weasley?" Theodore spoke up.
"In my opinion, we should be getting points for even attempting to help Longbottom," said Blaise.
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "But you should also lose points for going off like that and disobeying teacher's orders!"
"Than that would be losing points for two Gryffindors and only one Slytherin," Theodore pointed out, his face blank.
Blaise and the other Slytherins, aside from Ivan- who was just standing there and watching, smirked. "Well, aren't we losing points quickly," he mocked.
"Look!" said Draco, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Draco smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about- up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Draco had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off.
He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"
Harry grabbed his broom.
"No Harry!" shouted Hermione, stepping in front of him. "Madam Hooch told us not to move- you'll get us all into trouble."
Harry ignored her, his face red as he mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground. Ivan watched as he went up and smiled at the look on his face. Harry pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher. The girls screamed and gasped while Ron whooped in admiration. Ivan could only watch and smile as Harry turned his broomstick sharply to face Draco in midair. Draco looked stunned.
Ivan watched the interactions between the two, thinking.
"Do something!" Hermione shouted at him, snapping Ivan out of his thoughts.
"Da?" questioned Ivan.
"Stop them! You should be able to. Everyone knows that Malfoy is scared of you. He'll listen to you if you tell him to stop this and come down! Or do you want us all to get into trouble and lose more house points?"
"Net," said Ivan. "Draco is not scared of me, nor will he ever listen to me. And my hands are full and I don't want to give Big Brother any more trouble. Besides," he looked up just as Draco threw the ball. "I think it is too late, da."
Hermione turned back just in time to see Harry go after the ball.
A few minutes later, Harry returned with the ball in his hand and the others, minus the Slytherins, ran up to congratulate him for a job well done.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Everyone looked toward the voice and silence befallen them as the children saw Professor McGonagall running toward them. Draco smirked smuggled and Ivan continued to smile, holding onto the broomsticks still as he stood beside Blaise and Theo.
"Never- in all my time at Hogwarts-" said Minerva. She looked almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "-how dare you- might have broken your neck-"
"It wasn't his fault, Professor-"
"Be quite, Miss Patil."
"But Malfoy-"
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."
Harry followed Minerva and returned Ivan's reassuring smile with an unsure one of his own.
Once classes were over, Ivan quickly went to the hospital wing to find Peter being forced to stay in bed by the nurse, Edmund sitting beside him while Neville slept in the other bed. He had all their notes, work, and assignments with him, Neville included.
"Ivan," Peter weakly said, a small smile on his face. "I'm in so much trouble, aren't I?"
"Da," Ivan said, sitting down next to Edmund.
"Father is going to kill me for this, isn't he?" He covered his eyes with his hands.
"Well, he'll kill you for worrying your mother and maybe giving her a heart attack. Da."
Peter groan. "Are you going to be reporting this?"
"Net. I don't have to. You know that I don't have to, Piter. Besides, I fear it may not be your father's wrath you should really be worrying about right now, da."
"What do you mean?"
"You forget who lives closest to us right now, Piter."
Peter's face turned into one of horror. "Oh crap," he said.
"I would be expecting him to come soon, Piter."
"That is, if he isn't already here," Edmund put in.
"Who are you guys talking about?" asked Neville, sitting up.
The three looked at him for a moment before Ivan smiled. "You will find that out soon enough, da?"
Edmund was able to leave with Ivan soon after- after proving that he was alright to leave, but Peter was kept in bed until dinner- after telling the nurse over and over again that he was all right now and wanted to leave (she was shocked to find that he really was all right- his wounds had healed just as fast as Edmund's, if not faster. But madam Poppy Pomfrey still kept him there for a while longer though), and Neville wanted to stay the night. When Peter was released and given an okay to go, he was so happy to be out of there. He, like the rest of his family, really didn't like being bedridden and not being able to do anything.
Peter came just in time to hear Harry tell Ron about him becoming a seeker after they both welcomed him back from the hospital wing.
Ron was just so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry after he finished explaining, his food long forgotten.
"Congratulations Harry!" said Peter.
"Thanks," said Harry. "Wood said I start training next week. Only don't tell anyone, okay guys? Wood wants to keep it a secret."
And then the Weasley twins came to congratulate Harry.
"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too- Beaters."
"You get to use a bat, right?" asked Peter. "Awesome. I want to try out!"
"Peter," said Edmund, coming up behind him with Ivan. "After what happened today, you really want to try out for Beater? Are you mad? Arthur is going to skin you alive, if Alistair or Michelle doesn't get to you first."
"Da," Ivan agreed. "But Michelle will be too soft on him. And remember what Big Brother said, Peter? No brooms da."
"But I want it! I'll bug him until I get it. I'll even use the new tricks Peeves taught me!"
"Ohh? Sae ye an' Peeves hae become friends, hae ye?" a voice whispered into Peter's ears that made him shiver in fright.
Peter slowly turned his head toward the newcomer, who was standing on top of the Gryffindor table, his form bent over Peter's as he leaned in to whisper to him. Everyone was looking at the newcomer standing on top of the Gryffindor table.
"Ah- u- Alistair," said Peter.
"Awrite (hello) laddie," said Alistair, jumping down in front of Ivan, who backed away a bit.
"Careful Alistair," he said. "You almost landed on me and Edmund da."
Alistair turned toward him and smirked. "Please," he said. "Baith (both) ay ye hae survived waur."
"Alistair," said Albus from the teacher's table, standing up. "What brings you here tonight, old friend?"
"Jist haur tae see mah hen (dear) injured nephew, Albus. Naethin' tae fash yerse (worry) abit," said Alistair. "Noo than, Ah heard it was yer first day ay flyin'?"
Peter nodded, afraid.
"An' ye got hurt?"
Again Peter nodded. Alistair looked to Edmund, who stiffened and nodded as well. He then turned to narrow his eyes at Ivan.
"An' ye did naethin'?"
"It was good experience, da?" Ivan shrugged. "Besides, my hands were full and you seem to have gotten what you wanted, Alistair."
"Hm." Alistair turned back to Peter. "Sae, was it guid? Flyin'?"
Peter smiled. "Yes!" he answered.
"Stoathin (great)." And Alistair punched him to the wall behind the table, shocking everyone expect Ivan and Edmund.
"Alistair!" Minerva stood up.
"Dornt fash yerse, Minerva. He's nae deid yit. Gie up, laddie." He walked over to Peter, who sat up and held his once again injured head. "'At fur fur worryin' us an' nae sayin' anythin'."
Peter looked up as Alistair towered over him.
"Well how could I?" asked Peter. "None of you ever liked asking for help, nor do you tell others what's wrong! Its only expected I'd be like this too!"
"Yellin' at ne noo, ur ye?"
"…If I could yell and kick at my father, then I'm not afraid of you either Alistair."
Alistair's face went dark. "'At line soods tay familiar." He crouched down to Peter's high and grabbed him by his hair.
"Alistair," Ivan spoke up. "Should I remind you that vy po-prezhnemu v sootvetstvii s pravilom starshego brata (you are still under Big Brother's rule)?" He went slowly so Alistair could follow, knowing that that man knew some Slavonic languages, mostly Ukrainian, a bit of Russian, and small amounts of Belarusian. Peter also seemed to be understanding some words here or there, but others appeared lost. "Do remember who the head of the family is, Alistair." Edmund caught on to what Ivan seemed to be saying. "Even if you can get away with bullying him, on po-prezhnemu gorazdo boleye moshchnym, chem vy (he is still much more powerful than you are) da. He will not let it pass if you hurt Peter da."
Alistair smirked as he glanced back at Ivan's smiling face. "Tsk. Dornt ye ever loss 'at smile ay yours, Ivan?" Ivan continued to smile as Alistair glanced back to Peter. He then stood back up. "Ah expect stoatin (great) things frae ye thes summer, Peter. Gie wee Artie tae buy ye th' brooms, an' I'll gie ye a praise."
Peter looked up, excited now. "Really? What?" he asked.
Alistair smiled. "I'll tak' ye tae gie a new card."
Peter's face lit up and he quickly got to his feet. "Really? But what about Arthur?"
"Fa da ye hink Ah am? Ye pure hink aam afraid ay Artie?"
Ivan let out a small laugh. "So this is what you were going for," he said. "Vy khotite, chtoby snova ottsa i syna drug protiv druga (you want to turn father and son against each other again) da." He actually said this in normal speech Russian pattern. "Really great Alistair."
"Whit can Ah say?" said Alistair, walking back to Ivan with Peter behind him. "It's nae loch Ah can jist gang doon tae London aw th' time, ye kew? Ah hae tae keep Artie oan his toes somehaw. Ur he'll return tae bein' a wee weaklin' again. An' aw mah stoaner (hard) wark thouch it aw these years woods amount tea naethin' 'en."
"Da," agreed Ivan.
Alistair than turned to the high table. "Sorry tae bortha ye," he apologized. "I'll be gonnae noo." He turned toward the door. "An' Peter. Tak' caur ay yerself, ur I'll come again. An' keep talkin' wi' Peeves. Wee hin' (thing) has stoatin tricks up his sleeves."
"Da," Ivan agreed. "Tricks that Big Brother could us on his enemies later. Obratite vnimanuye na samoopredeleniya, ne tayno otpravit' rossiyskikh shpionov v Angkii kogda-libo snova (note to self, never secretly send Russian spies into England ever again), da."
Alistair smirked and glanced toward the Weasley twins. "An' guid luck tae ye. Mabbe ye an' 'at wee mukker (friend) ay yoors will be able tae fin' an' uncowre aw th' secrets 'at thes castle has tae offer. But be tend (careful), if ya dae tay much damage, He wullnae be caty (happy)." And he disappeared in a green poof.
"He used… apparition? Inside the castle?" said Minerva, shocked.
Whispers broke out than, everyone talking about what had just happen.
"Man, that's some complicated family you have, Peter," said Fred.
"Yeah," said George. "I kind of see why you don't want to be a Slytherin."
"Da," Ivan agreed. "Peter is not much of the vengeful type. Nor does he like violence all that much."
"And he's not really that ambitious, just stubborn," Edmund put it.
"Great, guys," said Peter. "Just tell them everything, why don't you?"
The two smirked at him.
"By the way, how are you feeling, Pete?" asked Edmund.
"Yeah, that punch looked really hard, mate," Ron agreed.
"Nah," said Peter. "He was holding back from damaging the school and getting the Jerk all worked up about money and stuff again. Besides, last time, I went through four walls."
"Wow, really?" Harry asked. Peter nodded, sitting down. "And I thought my life was bad."
"Isn't that child abuse?" Hermione spoke up. "You should report this!"
"No," said Peter. "It's no use."
"What do you mean it's no-"
"My father has a really high position in the British government. In fact, he is the Queen's chief adviser and I guess, right hand man? Anywho, all matters concerning or going on in the family, illegal or not, will be considered legal if it's what he wants. Sometimes, he has even more power than the Queen herself."
"Are you serious?" asked Ron. "Someone like that exists?"
"Da," said Ivan. "I thought I already told you this."
Ron and Harry gasped at them.
"Slytherins," Ron muttered.
"Well," said Fred. "Let's get back to what we were saying before we were interrupted, shall we. Though I admit, that was interesting. Anyways, Harry." He turned to Harry. "With you on the team now, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year."
"Congratulations Harry," said Edmund. "What position?"
"Da, pozdravleniya, congratulations."
"Er…" said Harry.
"Opps," said the Weasley twins, looking at each other. "We weren't supposed to say that."
"That's okay," said Edmund. "We'll keep it a secret."
"Da. I'm good with secrets."
"Yeah," Peter agreed. "Buried so deep in the snow…"
Ivan smiled, his eyes closed. "Da. Russian winter has its benefits."
And than the Weasley twins went on to talking more about Quidditch, before saying they had to meet up with Lee Jordan and left.
They were hardly out of sight when Draco came up with Crabbe and Goyle.
"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?" he asked, too afraid to bring up anything that had happened with Alistair in fear of what may happen to him next. But he did glance at the calm and smiling Ivan first though.
In all honesty, Draco really wanted to know what that was all about, but he guessed he could wait until his father sent him back more information. Apparently, it was really hard to find anything on these guys aside form the fact that the Kirklands had ties to the British government and that a man by the name of Arthur Kirkland, age 23, was the representative of England. He had three older brothers and an uncle who had disowned him. His bothers are Dylan Kirkland, 24, representative of Wales; Seamus Kirkland, age 25, who represented Northern Ireland, and Alistair Kirkland, age 26, for Scotland. There were more information his father had sent, such as their addresses and history, which was mostly clean, too clean. Also, it is said that Peter Kirkland was their younger brother, and that their parents were dead. So how come Peter says his parents are still alive, and why does he call Alistair his uncle when it should be older brother? But Draco found that he couldn't voice his question out loud to anyone, nor could he write them. He was sure it was a spell, but he didn't know who had cast it nor does he know how to break it. He tried to ask for help, but whenever he tried, something always comes up and he never got to say anything.
After challenging Harry to a duel, Draco left and Ron and Harry looked at each other.
"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"
"Yeah, I'm kind of confused on that too," said Peter. "Is it like a muggle duel back in the earlier centuries? Expcet with wands for weapons and not guns or swords?"
"Er… something like that?" said Ron, before turning to Harry. "A second's there to take over if you die."
"So that's why you looked so happy," said Edmund, turning to Ivan.
Ivan shrugged. "Though it is not something I would often suggest to anyone, especially Alfred, I don't think you should go, da," said Ivan.
"Yeah," Edmund agreed after a sigh. "It's probably a trick. Come on Ivan, let's go. I don't think anything's going to happen to Peter again now that Alistair is gone. Surely Arthur won't show up as well." Both Ivan and Peter looked doubtfully toward the doors, Peter shifting a bit and seemed as though he wanted to grab onto Ivan. "I'm starving." And Edmund dragged the Russian off to their table for dinner, no longer afraid or wearily to touch or make contact with Ivan anymore.
"Ha. What do they know," said Ron.
"I think they're right. You shouldn't go, Harry. You could die!" said Peter.
"He's not going to die," said Ron. "People only die in proper duels. Duels with real wizards, you know. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."
"True, but still…" said Peter. "If you can't use magic, than what? It's pointless, isn't it?"
"Not if you just throw away your wand and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested.
"Excuse me."
They all looked up to find Hermione there.
"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron, and Peter had to laugh at how Arthur-like that was.
Hermione ignored him and started explaining to them why they shouldn't go to this duel.
Harry, Ron, and Peter kept awake that night while Seamus and Dean slept away. Ron was giving Harry some advice on what to do to keep himself safe.
Peter still stood by what he said about not going, but also couldn't help wanting to break the rules and go on this adventure too. He was very much like Arthur and Alfred in this way, and he knew it, but couldn't help it. Though he was also worried about getting caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris as well, but argued that he would go with them to keep an eye on Harry. Surely Arthur would take that excuse and let the incident pass, since Peter knew he would have to tell Ivan and Ivan would have to write to Arthur. In the end, he agreed to go with them just to be another pair of eyes for them. Though Peter still tried to talk them out of it somehow, knowing that that was the right thing to do, but not really feel like doing it much.
"Half- past eleven," Ron muttered at last, "we'd better go."
They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows and causing Peter to be suspicious.
"Wait," he said, stopping the two from going any farther, his eyes narrowed on the chair nearest the portrait.
"What?" asked Ron. "You've changed your mind? Trying to stop us?"
"No," said Peter. "Not me." His eyes went back to the chair. "Her."
A lamp flickered on and Hermione Granger sat in the chair, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.
"You!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"
Hermione ignored him and instead, focused on Peter. "I'm surprised you knew I was here," she said to Peter. "I thought I was very well hidden."
"You left the fire on," said Peter. "And I can hear you breathing." 'And feel your presence within the room,' he added in his head.
Feeling for people's presence had been something Arthur had taught Peter how to do at a very young age. They first started with having Peter feel for those around him. Arthur had him tell how many people were in a room with his eyes close and then they used this in real fights, where Peter had to avoid sneak attacks. Then Arthur started having Peter recognize the presence of individuals, starting with their family first and then went to those close to them. After this, Arthur was going to start Peter on how to hide his presence and then finding others presences from where they are located in the world. Though Arthur said that that one was the hardest to do, and that only truly powerful people are able to master it. There are also many different methods of how to do it as well, and each person has a different way of going about it depending on how powerful they are.
"Hear her/me breathing?" questioned the three children.
"Military training with my family. I started really young."
"I see," she than turned to Ron and Harry. "So you're really going?" she asked.
"And you can't stop us," said Ron.
"I almost told your brother," she snapped, "Percy- he's a perfect, he'd put a stop to this."
"Come on," Harry said to Ron and Peter, leading them toward the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Seeing this, Hermione ran to stand in front of them. Harry scowled and told her to move out of the way. She refused and Ron ended up having to push her back and out of the way, telling Harry and Peter to go. Harry nodded and climbed through the hole with Peter, Ron soon following after.
Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.
"Don't you care about Gryffindor? Do you only care about yourselves? I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got form Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."
"Go away," said Ron.
"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-"
"Thank you," said Peter, welcoming the silence. "Man I never thought anyone could be worse than Arthur."
"Now what am I going to do?" asked Hermione shrilly, seeing that the Fat Lady wasn't in her portrait.
"That's your problem," said Ron. "We've got to go. We three are going to be late."
"Actually, Ron," said Peter as they walked off. "It's our problem too. Without the Fat Lady there, we can't get into the dorm room, remember?"
"… We'll figure something out later," said Harry. "I don't want to be late. Who knows what Malfoy would say."
Peter rolled his eyes. "If he's even there waiting…"
They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
"Oh god, no," Peter whispered, looking up. "I thought I got away from Arthur, and now I meet another just like him, if not worse…"
"You are not," Harry said to Hermione.
"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us ill tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."
"You've got some nerve-" said Ron loudly, and Peter had to agreed, though he didn't like the loudness and had to cover Ron's mouth with his hand.
"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."
Peter nodded, his eyes narrowed. "Me too," he said. "Keep your voices down, please. If we get caught, especially this early, I'll never hear the end of it."
The sound the two heard was a sort of snuffling.
"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting though the darkness.
"No," said Peter. "It's not. It's-"
"Neville?" said Harry.
It indeed was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.
"Thank goodness you found me!" he said. "I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."
"Keep your voice down, Neville," said Peter. "The password's 'Pig snout', but it won't help you now. The Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."
"How's your arm?" asked Harry.
"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."
"He only stayed there longer to rest," said Peter.
"You should've stayed with me," said Neville. "You were worse than I was. And Edmund was bleeding also. And, I heard about what happened in the Great Hall. And here I thought my family was bad..."
Peter laughed. "Oh, don't worry. We're fine," he assured him. "Besides, we've been through worse and lived. And we really hate hospitals."
"I wish I could heal as fast as you."
"Seamus-"
"Look, its all well and good that both of you are alright now," Ron interrupted. "But Peter we have to go. So we'll see you later Nevil-"
"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone. The Bloody Baron's been past twice already."
Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.
"If either of you guys is caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bofies Quirrell told us about, and use it on you."
Hermione and Peter opened their mouths to say something to that, but Harry hissed at them to be quiet and beckoned them all forward. They moved through the corridors, sped up to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.
Draco and his Crabbe weren't there. Instead, it was Ivan and Edmund.
"What are you two doing here?" asked Harry.
"Don't tell me," said Ron. "We'll be fighting you?"
"Net," said Ivan, walking closer.
"Draco won't be coming," said Edmund.
"So he chickened out, has he?" asked Ron.
"Or did you do something to him, Ivan," Peter narrowed his eyes at the Russian.
"Net," said Ivan. "Though I would love to, but Net. He-."
A noise in the next room made the children jump while Peter, Ivan, and Edmund narrowed their eyes. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak- and it wasn't Draco.
"Sniff around, my sweet. They might be lurking around in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.
Ron turned toward the two Slytherins, his face red. "You brought them?" he asked.
"Net," said Ivan.
"It was Draco," Edmund put in. "He planned this. And I have to admit, he's good."
"Da," agreed Ivan, knowing exactly how much. "And we only came to warn you, because we were worried about Peter da."
"We had to wait until the others went to sleep though."
"Guys," said Harry, looking very worried. He shushed them and motioned for them all to go to the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.
"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter. "Probably hiding."
"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, the children petrified while those stuck in a child's body (Peter included) kept calm as they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor.
They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke int a run, but Ivan grabbed him and pulled him back.
"You be quiet, da?" he said, his smile gone.
"If we all get caught…" said Peter, horror on his face.
"We're not getting caught," said Harry. "Come on, this way."
Harry led them down one corridor then another.
"Um, guys," said Edmund. "I don't remember this way."
"Must be a hidden passageway than," said Peter. "Come on."
And they hurtled along it, coming out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.
"I think we've lost him," said Harry, breathing out a sigh of relieve.
"I told you," said Hermione, looking red. "I told you."
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, " quickly as possible."
Edmund and Ivan nodded. "And we have to get back to our room," said Edmund.
"Da," said Ivan. "But I want to get these guys to their tower first.'
"You don't need to do that," said Ron. "We can go by ourselves."
"We're coming with you, end of discussion." For some reason, Ron found himself unable to retort back. It was as if he was talking to a man, a very powerful man, used to giving out orders that are quickly followed out.
"So Malfoy tricked us, did he?" said Harry.
"Da," said Ivan, walking back toward the Gryffindor tower.
They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.
"Peeves, please keep your voice down," said Peter, coming up front. "I don't want to get into anymore trouble."
"Tut, tut, tut," said Peeves. "Wandering around at midnight and saying you don't want to get into anymore trouble, Peter? You really are like your father."
"Please Peeves. I'll give my father extra hell when I get home, if you'd just let us go? We're friends, right? If I get caught and expelled now, he'll give me hell!"
"You know Peeves," Ivan spoke up. "My powers are still a little unstable. Who knows what I'll do if my emotions become unstable, da."
Edmund looked at him funnily, knowing that Ivan had already mastered his powers since their first night here, he just wasn't saying anything about it and was still acting innocent.
"Well," said Peeves, seeming a little scared now. "I should tell. Yes, but-"
"Oh, get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves. This was a big mistake.
"STUDENT OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
"Peeves!" Peter whispered.
"You'd better run, young lord," Peeves advised.
Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door- and it was locked.
"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. "We're done for! This is the end!" they could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves's shouts.
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked and the door swung open- they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening. However, Ivan was smiling as he looked up into the eyes of a monstrous three-headed dog. Edmund face-palmed himself at not being able to hold him back.
"Which way did they go, Peeves?" they heard Filch say through the door. "Quick, tell me."
"Say 'please.'"
"Don't mess with me, Peeves. Now, where did they go?"
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.
"All right- please."
"NOTHING! Hahaaaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you don't say please! Haha! Haaaaaa!" and they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage, thinking Peeves had tricked him.
"Good," said Harry. "Peeves didn't say anything."
"Don't worry, Harry," said Peter, his back turned to the door. "He thinks the door is locked."
"We- we have more important matters to deal with right now though," said Edmund.
"No," said Harry. "I think we'll be okay- get off, Neville!" Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "What?"
Harry turned around- and saw, quite clearly, what. They weren't in a room, they were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor.
"This is…" said Hermione.
"Yeah," said Edmund. "And now we know why it's forbidden."
"We are so dead," said Ron. "So bloody dead."
"What's Ivan doing?" asked Harry, seeing how the dogs were only looking at Ivan.
"Is he bloody mad?!" asked Ron, seeing Ivan holding up his hand to the dogs, smiling.
Peter was just staring at the three-headed dog, trying to place them in his memories. He knew about three-headed dogs, Arthur told him about them. There was also something he had said, but Peter couldn't quite remember it.
"Quite, actually," said Edmund.
Harry groped for the doorknob and they fell backward when the door opened. Peter was started out of his thoughts when Edmund pulled at his ropes and motioned to Ivan.
"Oh, right," said Peter, running toward Ivan and pulling him away from the dog, who seemed startled by Peter's prescience.
"Hey, hand," said Edmund, showing Peter that he couldn't move.
"Ivan," Peter growled out, but went to get Edmund anyways, and together, all three exited the corridor.
Harry slammed the door shut once Peter ran out, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared- all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.
"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces. "And why are there-"
"Never mind that- pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.
"W-why did you bring those two in here, Peter?" said Ron. "They're Slytherins!"
"Shush!" said Peter. "Ivan. Ivan! Look at me! Snap out of it! Snap out of it!" He hit Ivan a few times. "We're not in Russia. They're not your dogs!"
"Da, Piter," said Ivan. "I know that. And my dogs don't have three heads da."
"Oh. You were sane… than why did you-?"
"Never mind that!" said Edmund. "Ivan, how long do you intend to keep me crippled? I wouldn't mind it if you did it while Lucy was here with me, but… I'd rather not be stuck with either one of you thank you. I'm European."
"Da. Izvinite, sorry," said Ivan, releasing Edmund. "I didn't want you to stop me da."
"Why not?" asked Ron. "And what were you doing with that dog? I don't even know why they're keeping it down there, or better yet, in a school!"
"You don't use your eyes, do you?" snapped Hermione. "Any of you!"
"Well excuse me, Miss Smarty Pants," said Edmund. "Not everyone is like you."
"Ahh! Didn't you see what it was standing on? Any of you?"
"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."
"It was standing on a trap door, sweetie," said Edmund. "What? I had a good look, and so did Peter and Ivan. It's guarding something, we know. Now please stop with the attitude, already, Miss Know-it-all. It's honestly quite annoying."
"That's the pot calling the kettle black," said Peter.
"Da," Ivan agreed.
Edmund pout glare at them.
Hermione gasped and stood up, glaring at them all. "Well, I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed- or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."
Ron stared after her, his mouth open. "No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you."
"Ahh, she's infuriating," said Edmund.
"Da."
"Right?" said Ron.
"But hopefully, it'll be better with time," said Peter. "Now, I believe you two should go back."
"Da, we should," said Ivan. "But first. Piter, do you have your letters ready?"
Peter nodded and ran up the stairs to get his letters. He returned and gave them to Ivan. Ivan and Edmund nodded their heads, getting up and walking toward the portrait.
"Good night, Peter," said Edmund, once they were out.
"Da. Spokoynoy nochi, Piter," said Ivan.
Peter nodded. "Good night, and go safely, you two. Don't get caught," he said.
"Us, get caught?" said Edmund. "You seem to forget who we are, Peter," said Edmund.
"Right," said Peter, a smile on his face. "Well, see you in the morning then." And turned back and, said the password, stepped back into the dormitory.
"Shall we go now, Ivan?" asked Edmund.
"Da," said Ivan.
Edmund took hold of Ivan's arm and the both of them walked back down the stairs, soon disappearing into the shadows and soon back in their dorm room.
Outside, Lancelot flew into the night, off to the Kirkland family mansion back in London, than to Australia, and finally to his master in Tokyo, Japan.
Thank you for reading and please, please, please, leave a REVIEW!
Next chapter: It's Arthur's turn. He's at a World Meeting, and something interesting happens.
