Completing his morning fitness routine of chakatas, Harry wiped away the sweat from his face with a towel and stepped into his shower, indulging in the sensation of cold water cooling off his body. His shower took no longer than two minutes, a remnant of the efficiency drilled into him, yet to follow such training was almost therapeutic in a sense. Now, he followed it out of choice, rather than out of necessity.
Quickly adorning his Durmstrang robes, he saw Katerina waiting outside already, her face lighting up at the sight of him. Perhaps the boggart incident affected her more than she suggested. If he were the sentimental type, he would have been moved.
"Good morning," she chirped, taking his hand into her own. He didn't correct the motion, for tactile contact was conducive to increasing a feeling of dependency for her. They descended down two sets of stairs arriving at the great hall in companionable silence. Sitting across from each other, he observed with some wry amusement when he saw her mirroring his choices of food, mostly salads, boiled eggs and shredded chicken.
"So, today are the honour duels. I haven't heard of any duel, so we probably shouldn't bother showing up. A shame, I would have thought Ivarin would have waited this long. Perhaps she's yet to find a significant enough slight to bother."
"Perhaps," he indulged amusedly, gently shaking his head when she reached out to a piece of beef. She immediately retracted it as though it were poison. "Beef is neither good for the body nor the mind, especially in the mornings. Save it for dinner if you must."
"How do you know this stuff? And doesn't magic filter out anything harmful?"
"To the former, I endeavour to study every aspect of magic, and something as significant as what we eat deserves to be respected. You would watch out for toxins and poison, yet not consider the harmful effects of the food you consume?"
"Well when you put it that way..." she muttered embarrassedly, before perking up, "But what about the latter."
And this was why he held a fondness for her. She asked the right questions, enough to remind him of himself. She might never match him in power or fighting ability, but her mind...he nearly shuddered in ecstasy at the potential. Was this what Hurst, or rather Amanda as she insisted he call her in private, felt when training with him? The feeling was admittedly almost addictive.
"Your magic does help regulate your body. It's why you see so few wizards who look particularly out of shape unlike muggles. While most would drop a tenth of the way through a marathon...muggle thing, essentially a long run, magic is generally able to keep at least a magicals' appearance in check. However, this process, much like everything else, takes a toll on your magic. The more alterations and corrections needed, the more magic it takes, so…"
"The less magic you have at your disposal," she concluded, beaming at his proud nod. "So what foods should you eat?"
"Balance is the key. A good balance of meat and vegetables. Each have their own properties worth studying, and in proper amounts can actually alter the way our body or mind acts, but that's a discussion in itself. In general, you want to stick to white meats such as chicken and fish. Red meats tend to make a person too aggressive by throwing the hormones in you off balance, it is why ancient armies made it a point to feed these to the elite troops. In terms of vegetables, ensure you get a wide spread of different colours. My rule of thumb is seventy in greens, thirty in others," he lectured, watching her process the information diligently. He took a sip of his warm water while waiting.
"We are what we eat, then?" she mused. He nodded, causing her to smile as she loaded a large helping of salad onto her plate. Feeling footsteps come close, he looked up pleasantly, to see a slightly nervous Alana Croft approaching them. He didn't miss the frown Katerina held, and waved the girl closer.
"Alana, good morning. Would you care to join us?" he offered kindly. She glanced nervously at a scowling Katerina. "I'm sure Kat here won't mind, will she?"
"Of course not," she ground out at his warning look. Hesitantly, she took a seat next to him.
"Katerina, meet Alana Croft, one of the most talented rune students at Durmstrang. Alana, Katerina Zakharov, a good friend of mine and talented duellist."
"A pleasure to meet you," Alana chirped, before flinching at the withering glare Katerina shot her.
"Yes, a pleasure," she ground out, making it obvious it was anything but.
"Ah, now that the friendly introductions are over," he gave a pointed look at Katerina, "why don't you tell me how your week thus far has been?"
"Busy," she admitted. "I've spent a lot of time researching previous attempts at translation runes. I noted how most of them seem to fundamentally bend one language to another, which seems to be the root problem. I was wondering if I could bounce a few ideas of you."
"Of course," Harry encouraged, inwardly crowing.
"Well...fundamentally, runes are just languages, which are different interpretations of magic, right?" At his nod, she continued, "So I was thinking, that rather than trying to combine three fundamentally different interpretations, a universal rune set could be created that combines the advantages of all three."
Harry stilled, processing that. She squirmed, an apology on her lips when he beamed. "That's a brilliant idea! I admit I hadn't quite thought of it like that, truly a testament to your mind."
She might well have won an Order of Merlin with the way she glowed upon hearing his praise. He continued, "I admit I myself had taken a different approach, in focusing on channelic conversions over runic conversions by breaking it down, but your solution is equally if not more impressive."
"Wait...channelic conversions?"
"Remember our discussion from last time about energy divisions?" Alana nodded dutifully, while Katerina looked completely lost trying to keep up. "Fundamentally, it isn't about simply connecting the runes, but changing the resonance of the energy to ensure it harmonises. The Egyptians use the number three, Anglo-Nordic runes nine, the Chinese seven, the Greeks ten...the list could go on. So to create resonance, its a matter of simply amplifying each side until they share a common value."
"That's...beyond my understanding," she admitted sheepishly, causing Harry to shake his head with exasperation. "I lost you at resonance."
"Let me use an analogy. Imagine this: on a set of train tracks, you can run several different trains. When using one runic language, all the trains are running at the same speed. However, when you use different runic languages, you're putting different trains at different speeds on one track. What happens?"
"They crash," Katerina interjected. While slightly annoyed, Harry nodded.
"Precisely, so what's the solution?"
"Make them go at the same speed," Alana chimed. Harry nodded again.
"Exactly. Most existing solutions have been looking at different ways of building the track, but fundamentally that's not the issue. Thus my solution, step up the runic languages based on their resonance until they are harmonised. Using the eight most common runic languages, the lowest common multiple is two hundred fifty one thousand, one hundred and sixty. An unachievable power output. So what's your conclusion?"
"That it's impossible," Katerina mused.
"No, that a universal bridge is not possible," Alana countered. Harry nodded at her, causing the girl to beam and Katerina to scowl. Their competitiveness could be useful, though he would have to monitor it closely.
"Precisely. Sign this contract that you won't share what I'm about to show you with anyone, Alana."
"What about her?" she asked questioningly. A poor attempt at deflection.
"She has my trust."
"And I don't?" the girl pouted.
"Not yet," Harry mused. She gave a resigned sigh, reading over the parchment he pulled out. Nodding in agreement, she picked up the blood quill and signed it, causing the piece of parchment to glow a white hue. Rolling it up and pocketing it, he pulled out another piece of parchment and began scribbling, before passing it to her.
"What's this?"
"A runic bridge between Egyptian runes and Anglo-Saxon ones," he answered.
"Impossible," Alana breathed out, eyeing the work reverently. "This...this...is incredible! It could change the way...how the fuck did you make this?"
"By thinking differently," Harry responded, amused. Even Katerina, far inferior in runic knowledge than him or Alana, seemed to understand the significance of this, if her dropped jaw was any indication. "While perhaps the most useless of the bridges, it still serves as a proof of concept, and more importantly, a lesson."
"Lana!" a voice called out, causing the three to look up. Harry discreetly lowered the privacy wards. "Why are you sitting with them? Come with us! I need your help with some runes."
"Sorry...I…"
"Go," Harry encouraged, causing the girl to nod gratefully before skipping over to join her friends. Turning back, he saw Katerina eye him uneasily. Raising new privacy wards, he mused, "You have questions, ask them."
"How do you know her?"
"Runes class. She's quite the intelligent girl, the professor had us sit together and we hit it off," Harry answered easily, pretending to be oblivious to her visibly agitation.
"The bitch couldn't even be bothered to stay with you! After you showed her something so groundbreaking! Are you just going to let that insult slide?" she demanded furiously. Harry sighed patiently, reminding himself that she was ultimately still a fourteen year old girl.
"She might be useful to me in the future," Harry mused. "It is important make friends in teh right places, and I'm sure she has a bright future ahead of her."
He smiled mysteriously as he observed her try to find a retort. "You're afraid I'm going to replace you, aren't you, Katerina?"
She looked up in shock, causing him to tutt. "Katerina, what we have is a very...very special relationship. Just because I am making friends in other places, doesn't mean that I'm abandoning you."
"Am I not enough? I can learn! There's still two years ahead of me, give me time and I can match her in runes! You don't need her!" she exclaimed, a tinge of desperation in her voice. Harry sighed again, this was going to be tricky to spin.
"I would be disappointed if you did. Your talent, my dear, has always been in the realms of charms, just as hers is in runes. A muggle, named Adam Smith, had quite the ingenious analogy. He once said, if ten workers each tried to make a nail from start to finish, they could spend a week and still not succeed. From mining the iron, to smelting it, to moulding it, it would take too long. Yet if each man specialised, one in mining, one in transporting the ore, one in smelting, one in moulding, one in packaging, then by the end of the day each man would have plenty of nails to spare. Do you know what the message of this story is, Katerina?"
"I…"
"We all have a place in this world. Do not envy others for theirs, merely strive to find your own," Harry encouraged gently. "Now it does appear that we do have lessons. Do think on what I said, I shall see you in the common room afterwards."
With that, he grabbed his bags and prepared to head towards his first ritual lesson. Admittedly, he couldn't help but be excited as he descended the stairs past the transfiguration floor, waving to a passing professor Hurst, before descending down another set of stairs to reach the ritual classroom, where there were about fifty ritual circles all facing forward towards the professor's elevated one.
It was pitched at a roughly thirty degree angle to allow the entire class to see what the professor was drawing, though undoubtedly rituals that featured fluids would be a pain to do. Waiting outside, he saw that his class consisted of roughly two dozen individuals, notably a few that were definitely sixth or seventh years. In fact, he was quite confident he was the only fourth year. Two fifth year girls were giggling about something, a sound what mildly annoyed Harry as he edged away from them, and found himself standing next to a quiet boy half a head shorter than him.
"You find them annoying as well?" he drawled. Harry merely nodded, a wry smile on his lips. The boy extended his hand. "Ortaba Rosier, a pleasure"
"Harry White, likewise," he returned, shaking the boy's hand firmly. "If i may be so bold, are you the-"
"Yes, my aunt was Grindelwald's lieutenant," he replied in a clipped voice. "Problem?"
"I try not to judge one based on their family," Harry mused, "Even if I must admit my surprise, given I was led to believe that your family had died out."
"Reasonable, given that's what my parents wanted the world to believe," Ortaba shrugged. He suspected that was more answer than the boy intended to give, seeing their conversation lapsed into a silence until the professor arrived, the door slamming open in his wake.
"Good, you're all here," he noted as his gaze swept the room. "And we have fresh meat. Mister White, tell me, what is the most advanced ritual you are aware of?"
"The soul cleansing ritual," he answered, causing the professor to pause.
"An...obscure yet powerful ritual. Perhaps you might not fail out of this class in the first week," he drawled. "I am professor Pairn Faure, but you will refer to me as professor or sir, understood?"
"Crystal, sir."
"Good. I expect you to keep up with the class. I will not have anyone impeding our progress. If you do not understand something, research it in your own time. Now, we will be studying the ritual of Samahara. It was designed by the ancient Romans, meant to improve the concentration one possessed. Leluk! What are the seven sacrifices required?"
"The eye of a murmur, the claw of a grapehorn, the shell of a paprik, the slime of a horned slug, the blood of a virgin, willingly given, the wood of an acacia tree and the leaf of a lily," the boy recited confidently
"Good," he pulled out each of the ingredients, placing them in one of the seven corners of the heptagram. "Pavar! What conduit do we use for drawing the runes?"
"Salted blood of the ritual caster," the girl dutifully answered.
"Correct." He pulled out a bottle of his blood and uncorked it. "What smell should I be looking for to indicate the blood is ready? Ysadigal!"
"That of a dead fish," she answered.
"Indeed," he pulled out a ritual quill and dipped it in the liquid, beginning to draw out the various runes. "The runes you need are in your books, page thirty eight. Make sure you copy them correctly, or I shall be most displeased. Delavier, how long does the ritual last?"
"Three minutes."
"Wrong. Rosier, same question."
"Depends on the subject and how much augmentation is required. Generally the range is two to five minutes, though it could have no effect if the body requires no augmentation within the ritual's capabilities, or until the grapevine is used up."
"Correct," the professor nodded. Harry was slightly surprised at the depth of the answer, inwardly admitting he hadn't even considered the last point. As the professor finished up his runes, he sat in the middle of the circle. "White, what would happen if I started the ritual now?"
"Large amounts of pain as the magic tried to enter you. The correct position would be to lay down in a star."
"Good. Now that you've seen the process, you have the rest of the class to prepare the ritual. I will be watching." At that, the class immediately retrieved their equipment from their bags. Harry quickly cut his arm, allowing the blood to flow into a charmed flask, before healing himself and placing several salts into the bottle and stirring gently with one hand, while arraying the seven ingredients before opening the book and quickly reading over the runes.
Opening the cork of the bottle, he inhaled the smell of a rotten fish, and smiled, dipping his ritual quill and beginning to draw. He was notably quicker in drawing runes than any of the class, finishing by the time he was done.
"You need to rotate the grapehorn so it's perpendicular," Ortaba advised with a whisper. Harry nodded gratefully, making the adjustment just in time for professor Faure to pass by. He scrutinised the ritual for several minutes before giving a grudging nod.
"It'll work," he grunted before stalking off, prowling at the other students. Hiding an amused smile, Harry observed Ortaba work, far slower than him, but still a definite notch faster than the other students and much more smoothly, as though he were familiar with the process.
"Can I help you?" the boy queried with poorly concealed amusement after several minutes.
"Perhaps. You are very familiar with the ritual...intimate with it, almost," Harry observed. The boy across stiffened for a moment before relaxing, offering a tentative nod. "The sowilo is slightly too sharp, curve the edges."
Pondering for several moments, Ortaba nodded, making the adjustment. "Thanks."
"Just returning the favour," Harry waved off. Fifteen minutes later, the boy had finished his set, scrutinised by the professor who again gave it his grudging approval, before barking for the two to leave the class early.
Walking outside, he merely stood outside comfortably, while Ortaba didn't seem to feel a need to leave either. "I've heard about you, White. You're apparently quite talented in charms?"
"Sixth year," he nodded. The boy across' eyes widened slightly before nodding slowly.
"I'll make you a deal, your charms notes for my ritual ones."
"I'll raise the stakes, you tutor me in rituals for an hour a week, and I'll do so in charms for you."
"Make it two, there are far more proficient charms students than ritual ones," Ortaba challenged. Harry frowned, causing the boy across to stiffen. It was a good play, he admitted, and a testament to Ortaba's intellect. He could work with this.
"I'll make it three hours shared with another student, if you join my guild." Ortaba considered the offer for several moments before shrugging.
"Fair enough." The two shook on the deal. "Where do I find you?"
"Our common room is at the end of the transfiguration corridor, just walk to the end. And one more thing, Katerina Zakharov is another guild member. I trust that won't be a problem?"
"I won't make it one if she doesn't," he reluctantly conceded. "I'll see you after lunch."
The two exchanged nods, before Harry ascended the stairs, parting ways with Ortaba as he made his way up to the distant arithmancy classroom. Entering the classroom as the door was already open, he made his way to one of the seats at the back corner, giving him a view of the roughly two hundred students getting out their materials and preparing for the lesson while the professor at the front was writing some notes out on the board.
At ten on the dot, the door slammed shut, and the professor turned, a stern gaze on his face. "Welcome back to armithacy. Today we will be discussing your readings on chapter thirteen of your textbook on the various quantitative breakdowns of numbers. Mister Malcom, why don't you start us off?"
"There are three main schools of thought. The Maler Roots school, the Akin Demonimator school and the An Tsu philosophical interpretations. Each three are anchored in a main study of one number, Maler in the study of thirteen, Akin in seven, and An Tsu in three.
"An apt summary. Miss Sitara?"
"Sir, I was wondering if you could clarify why each denomination became the dominant one in its region. It seems strange that the theories did not converge, yet I could find no explanation."
"An...interesting question," the professor smiled, and Harry agreed, observing the girl in question with a scrutinising look. She had wavy brunette hair, and seemed like a fourth year. He remembered her boggart was that of books burning. He decided to look into the girl. "In truth, we do not know enough in the field to adequately conclude that any single school of thought is the correct one. Much of the regional boundaries of the theories can be tied into which runic language is locally used. In the Asian region, it is often three, and thus they follow the An Tsu school of thought. Here in Europe, the consensus is seven, so we follow Akin. In the Americas, it is mostly thirteen, and thus Maler blossomed there. The problem is that there are fundamental assumptions made in each school that are axiomatic but non falsifiable. Thus, while we know there can be only one universal truth in this regard, we are unable to agree on which one."
"Mister White, you have a question?"
"A supplement, professor. There are fundamental differences in the priorities of each school of thought. The number three is most flexible, but the weakest among the three. Seven is the strongest, but also difficult to manipulate. Thirteen is a compromise between the two. Thus, by the very nature of the argument, it becomes a discussion on whether power, flexibility, or balance is most important."
"A fair point, mister White, one I would expect given Pairn's praise for you," he chuckled softly. "Miss Sitara, perhaps you would like to move with Mister White? I know you've finished this section of the textbook, and I suspect mister White has as well. You have my permission to raise a privacy ward and discuss the following chapters."
The girl ducked her head in acknowledgement, grabbing her possessions and moving up the stands next to him. He flicked his wand, weaving a privacy ward around them while she unpacked her things.
"So, White?"
"Harry will do just fine."
"Then it's Sarah for me," she returned with a faint smile. "You're quite well read."
"I dabble, even if I will be the first to admit armithacy is not my forte." She chuckled.
"I must disagree, Harry. No self-respecting runic student would miss out on studying armithacy. I would know, given I'm in fifth years runes."
"Impressive," he complimented, causing her to shrug.
"You're in sixth year, I heard. It's unheard of for anyone to skip two years, even my jump of a year was talked about constantly, and I'll be the first to admit I'm struggling."
"With what? Perhaps I could help?" he offered. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
"At what cost?"
"What makes you think there is one?"
"Nothing is for free, Harry. Anything that is labelled as such should make you wary, just as it does me."
"Quite cynical," he mused hypocritically, his opinion of the girl raising a notch. "Why such a world view?"
"When you've seen the worst in humanity, you tend to grow jaded," she smiled bitterly, and Harry nearly reeled in shock when he saw her sleeve briefly reveal as she stretched, a stencil of a number on her arm.
"A prisoner of the revolution?" She stiffened, turning to him in shock.
"How do you know that?"
"I was one as well," he admitted, knowing finding common ground would be conducive to reeling her in. He pulled up his sleeve, where the marks of a number that had been stenciled there remained. Her eyes softened slightly, and he encouraged this feeling subtly with legilimency. "Where were you in?"
"Poland, my father fought against Grindelwald, but it was not enough. They took him away. My mother fled, gave her life so I might escape. I escaped to Denmark and lived in an orphanage there."
"My sympathies."
"And you?"
"Kolyma," he answered with a bitter smile, causing her to gasp.
"I must sound like such a bitch, complaining when you had to...go through that!"
"Nonsense, we each suffered and we each overcame," Harry shrugged. "Besides, I would not be the person I am today without that experience. For that...in a way I am thankful, that it has opened my eyes. We're different, while the others would take the food on their plate and the clothes on their back for granted, we knew what it was like to have nothing. To be nothing, no?"
"That we did," she agreed solemnly. "I...I heard you're a good dueller, perhaps you can teach me?"
"I can't teach you how to duel," he shook his head, causing her to slump in disappointment, "but I can teach you to fight."
"To fight?" she questioned, confused. "Isn't that what I just asked?"
"No, a duel is a show, a demonstration of skill and flamboyance. Regardless of what type and style, there are limitations, constraints. In a fight, your only goal is to ensure you live to see the next day and your enemy does not. You might hate yourself for the depravities and treachery you go through, but at the end of the day, you survive, where they did not. That is what I will teach you, if you wish to learn."
"I'll do it," she resolved determinedly. "I refuse to ever be weak again...you understand, right?"
"Perhaps better than anyone else ever will," Harry nodded.
"What do you want in exchange?"
"You have nothing I want or need right now," Harry chuckled, "but perhaps one day you will."
"You want my loyalty?"
"I want a chance to earn it. Loyalty through coercion is no true loyalty at all. You will join me of your own free will, or not at all."
"So confident?" she questioned. "You hold all the cards, why not play them against me?"
"Because I gain little from forcing your hand, Sarah. The most valuable thing I can gain, at the moment, is your goodwill."
"I could teach you armithacy," she offered tentatively. "I wouldn't want to contribute nothing."
"If you wish, then I would be happy to learn, of course," Harry nodded. "But I suppose we should get at least some work done."
"True, true," she conceded reluctantly. "So, what is your project going to be?"
"Channel manipulation, in combination with runes. I am confident it will give me an honour in this subject if I succeed."
"Ambitious," she mused.
"And you?"
"I…"
"You have my word that I will not betray your confidence," he assured, but refrained from legilimency, curious to see how deep his imprint on her psyche went.
"I...suppose it couldn't hurt. I was thinking of doing a regression analysis on the power of primes to prove that for an infinite amount of numbers seven remains the strongest number."
"An impressive project," he complimented, causing her to beam, "I suppose it's taking a large amount of time?"
She nodded with a sigh. "It's inevitable, I suppose."
"Might I suggest going into the muggle world and looking for a device known as a calculator over the break? They're new, but quite handy to have for armithacy."
"A what?"
"A calculator," he repeated slowly, writing it down on a slip of parchment and handing it to her. "It takes some getting used to, but makes calculations for large numbers much easier."
"I'll have a look," she mused reluctantly. Harry frowned, peering into her mind, and nearly chuckled when he sensed the problem: she lived in an orphanage and had little money.
"Here, you can have mine," he pulled out the calculator from his bag and handed it to her. She looked at the device confusedly, so he pressed several calculations in, causing her to watch in awe as the answers flashed after several seconds. He chuckled at the gleam in her eyes. "There's an even more amazing function for your purposes."
He pressed in a formula, and showed her as the calculator slowly generated a graph. "So long as you can create a general formula, the calculator, within certain limits, can output a graph. Helpful, no?"
"This...this...this is amazing!" she gasped, reverently accepting it with both hands as he handed it to her. "I...are you sure you don't need this? It must have cost a fortune?"
"I've done decently well for myself after escaping the Union, you don't need to worry about me," Harry assured, waving off her half-hearted protests.
"You...you don't know...scratch that, you probably know what this means to me," she commented wryly. He chuckled, patting her on the shoulder.
"That I do, that I do. Tell me, what guild are you part of?"
"Um...the Whispers. It's a small guild, mostly a study group to be honest. We just kinda...exist, I guess. You have another offer, I assume?"
"Yes, join mine. The Lost. We take care of our own."
"Then I see no reason, why not. You are a brother in spirit, no?"
"Of course, sister," he responded easily, causing the two to share a smile. "Alas, it seems the lesson is over. If you would like to continue, perhaps I could introduce you to our common room?"
"That would be lovely," she agreed, accepting his proffered hand as they left the classroom and navigated their way towards the common room. Entering, he frowned when he saw Katerina scowling at Otaba, who was lazed on a couch reading a book uncaringly. The two looked up at the sound of their entry.
"Katerina, Otaba, meet Sarah, prodigy in armithacy. Sarah, this is my friend Katerina, a talented duellist and brilliant mind, and Otaba, a prodigy in rituals."
"Hi everyone," Sarah greeted cheerfully, her infectious bubbliness causing Katerina's hostility to lessen and Otaba to wave back lazily.
"Right, seeing as we are all free, let's get some basic training done. No member of the lost will be unable to defend themselves. Step into the ring with me."
The three obeyed, stepping into the duelling ring set up as the wards flared up, protecting the rest of the room.
"Right, in a fight, what would you do?"
The three incanted, "Protego," shields forming around them. He sighed as Katerina seemed to take childish glee that her shield was the brightest of the three. Distinctly unimpressed, he fired three quick blasting curses, ripping their shields to shreds before following up with ropes, tying all three together in a bind.
"Congratulations, if that was a real fight, you would be dead and I wouldn't have a scratch on me," he chided dryly. "Lesson number one, never shield!"
"But...but that's standard practice in a duel," Katerina protested. Harry sighed.
"And we are practicing fighting, not duelling. Unlearn all you have learned, that nonsense will get you killed. I couldn't care less if you win or lose a fight, but so help me Merlin I will ensure you all hold your own in a fight," he growled. All three gulped. "Now I will be sending cutting spells at all of you for the next thirty minutes. Dodge only, and if I see a single shield you will regret it."
"That's impossible!" Otaba growled out. Harry rolled his eyes, stowing his wand.
"Fine, I will demonstrate. Fire any spell you can at me, I won't even use my wand."
The three assumed duelling stances, Katerina more uneasy than the other two, who seemed confident in their chances, as he slowly walked forward, tucking his head to one side or the other or sidestepping occasionally as they began firing spells. As he got closer, they got more frantic, and Katerina started using blasting curses on the ground, forcing him to move a bit more. Leap, dodge, duck, roll, leap...it was no challenge for him, having trained with the ruthless elite guardians before.
When he neared them, he began to pick up the pace, knocking Sarah's wand out of her hand before kicking her in the ribs, stomping on Otaba's foot twice before punching him in the stomach, then turning to Katerina and pouncing on her, smacking her wand away.
"That," he got up, helping the other three shakily to their feet, "is how it's done. Don't worry, we will not stop training until you can do that. Don't you worry."
He nearly laughed at their horrified looks.
Author Note:
First chapter of the day! So we see more of Harry's manipulations, and the beginning of his circle truly forming. Thank you to AWhiteLight for your concern over burnout. I'm definitely conscious of it, as pushing out two chapters a day can definitely be challenging on some days. I'm definitely prepared to slow myself if I feel the quality is dropping, but hopefully I'm still pushing out good chapters. Onto Lukasekpazour's comment on whether Harry blames Voldemort, I will say that he doesn't have a hatred for Voldemort. He has a vague idea that some prophecy was foretold, but at this point, really doesn't care, given everything he has been through. If met with Voldemort, he wouldn't immediately reject her, even if subconsciously there might be some resentment and partial blame to her for causing all this. I will say, that a confrontation with Voldemort is going to happen much sooner than most of you probably think. And with that tease over, time for some worldbuilding!
We see that Alana is more resistant to Harry's manipulations because she has her own 'friends' and despite Harry casting doubt, it's going to take some time to come to a boiling point. I expect to feature it in the next chapter, though if not it'll definitely be the one after that. Sarah and Otaba are more loners, and thus they are more ready to accept his offers. I really liked the contrast, with Otaba outwardly appearing more aloof and suspicious, but Sarah in fact being the most similar to Raven in terms of hit, hidden beneath a veneer of friendly bubbliness much like Harry does.
A bit more on Harry's mentality: he doesn't really respect the idea of regurgitating knowledge. He believes in pushing the boundaries and doing something new, and has the foundational knowledge and power to make such things come ot fruition. He is by definition an overachieving student in a similar vein to Grindelwald was decades before. The problem with the schooling system, and why the awarding of masteries is so rare, is because most students do not attempt to innovate significantly. For instance, in runes, most projects are just a demonstration of drawing out existing rune schemes, with even modifying them largely considered in a wizarding mastery territory rather than in OWLs and NEWTs. Harry quickly recognises this, which is why he is so impressed by Alana, who despite being, in Harry's opinion, brainwashed by a system of mediocrity, still has a national drive to innovate. He believes, correctly, that he can build on and harness this potential.
With that said, I'm pleased to announce the first week of classes is done! This was definitely a bit of a drag to write because it all had to happen in such a short time frame, meaning I had to leave out many potential plot seeds because otherwise it would be unreasonably paced. After this, I'm definitely going to start jumping days or even weeks. If you like a particular class, be sure to comment it, and I'll endeavour to show Harry's progress in it. Otherwise, it's mostly going to focus on Harry building his circle and doing research; I also want to add more outside world POVs, because the past few chapters have definitely been very Durmstrang centric. There's a lot happening in the outside world, so be prepared for multiple new POVs.
I also want to thank everyone for your support thus far. I feel like I'm saying this every other chapter, but it's true! We've reached over 6000 reads from over 1300 unique readers. Yesterday was amazing, nearly breaking 1000 reads (we reached 998) and achieving 200 readers exactly. In that vein, I thought I'd add some random statistics for those curious: Most readers, representing roughly two thirds of my readership, are from the United States. However, my story appears most well liked by Germans, who on average read 9.4 chapters of my story (excluding the welcome message). Our viewers are in total from over 50 countries, including (yes I was surprised too) Mongolia.
As always, if you enjoyed, please follow, favourite, share with your friends and leave a comment, even if just to say hi! I would deeply appreciate any feedback you have, whether positive or negative, as I'm definitely learning the ropes to writing fanfiction. Until next time, toodles!