Spring 1992
Sinking Her Teeth In
6 January 1992
A little over a week later, Harry had returned to Durmstrang. Gartner kicked off another exhausting yet exhilarating term on the daisy family then zeroed in on the common daisy. Fortunately, they were inside. Unfortunately, they took notes.
After that, Veen collected their assignments on the differences between counter spells and opposite spells.
"The Summoning Charm and the Banishing Charm are spells without a true level. At Dreamtime they are third year spells. At Hogwarts they are fourth year spells. At Castelobruxo, they a fifth year spells. Here at Durmstrang, modeled itself after Uagadou and Almalja. As such here and there they are advanced first year and standard second year spells." He looked around with a smile. "I hope you brought your cloaks like I asked."
Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, no."
Mafalda looked at him.
"When my father summons things that's close, it's like a conjuration, but when it's far I can see it fly in through the room quickly. When my grandfather summons something it's almost like a conjuration no matter the distance," he said. "He's going to test speed and distance. You have a cloak?"
She shook her head.
As he carried around his trunk in his backpack, he was able to share his with a few classmates.
"This is so soft," Mafalda said in his green cloak. "You have such pretty clothes. If only you'd do something with your hair then I'd listen to Grandmother and 'stake my claim.'"
Harry snorted.
"But I don't think it'll work," she mused. "Being Harry Potter's wife sounds like an ordeal."
He was eleven and the Potters didn't do marriage contracts. Even Fleamont had just bullied his son. He didn't have to think about that type of stuff. However, with quick consideration of Grindelwald and the likelihood of Tom figuring out what he'd done, he figured she had a point.
"Accio." A huge pile of snow rush towards him. When he realized what he'd done, he melted it to before it could hit him.
"Are you well, Potter?" Veen asked. "That's the worst I've ever seen from you."
Harry held up his hands. "Sorry. Can you make another snow ball."
Veen created another and Harry did a little better. By the end of class, he was the furthest from his snowball. Mafalda was closest to him.
Later that afternoon, after brewing the Pepper-Up Potion, he stood in front of Thanos' desk.
"What can I do for you, Potter."
"Err – I met with Adalbert Waffling two weeks ago."
"Congrats," she said. "What does that have to do with me?"
Harry rubbed his face. "You told me you wanted to sink your teeth in…"
She sat up. "Yes?"
"I've had this idea about the stars for years and I wanted to put it off until I could brew proper. Veritaserum specifically " He then filled her in on his idea.
She nodded with a frown on her lips then moved to pull out a calendar.
"Mercury is bright at the same time the moon is full on the sixteenth of May in the evening, but the moon is in Scorpio. It's full the eleventh of October and the moon is in Aries, but Mercury isn't bright. It's not bright and in Aries at any time this year," Harry said.
She nodded. "Projects like this take years of study. We will brew Veritaserum on the sixteenth and the eleventh. Then we will wait to brew when Mercury is bright and the moon is in Aries and when the moon is full, in Aries, and Mercury is bright."
"Deal."
••
Euphoria
7 March 1992
"Nice of you to show up," Frode Christensen said.
Harry looked at his watch then looked at him. "Huh?"
"This needs a team effort, Potter," he spat as if Harry's surname was a thing he hated to say.
The pretty Sofia Juaquin, who was tall and tan with long, brown hair and green eyes, leaned forward. "Ignore him," she said. "Do you know what to do?"
Harry nodded.
"What?" Christensen asked.
"Brew a potion," Harry drawled.
When a few snickered, Christensen stepped to Harry, who raised his head and smirked.
"I hope you don't think you're scary," Harry said.
They entered the Banquet Hall to find the room had been enlarged. The normal nine tables had been replaced by forty-seven smaller ones, each with seven cauldrons, mortars and pestles, cutting boards, and other utensils.
"Good afternoon," Professor Calderon said. He was a tanned man with dark brown hair and brown eyes. "Let's go over the tournament. Today, you will brew a potion in two hours or less without magic in uncomfortable weather. Scores will be awarded based on finishing the potion and how well it is brewed. Next week, you will have to find," he held up a finger, "one ingredient to a potion and brew it within two and a half hours. The week after next, you will have to find every ingredient in the recipe of a potion. Understand?"
They all nodded or spoke up.
"You each have been provided with a full potion-making kit. The cabinets are full of ingredients that will replenish themselves." He pointed to the boards hovering on the left and right of each table. "The recipe will appear on the boards. Currently, they are showing where each advisor's team will be stationed." He looked at his watch. "Go."
Iantha Greco, a pretty redhead with blue eyes, elbowed Harry as they moved over to the table. She snickered with Christiansen and it took all his self-control not to set her on fire.
He'd get her back, though. And Christiansen, too.
They manned their stations until the clock struck noon. The spells preventing them from touching anything fell and Harry turned to the board as a dry heat settled in around the room.
The Elixir of Euphoria.
Harry, for the first time in his life, felt blessed to have been under Severus Snape's tutelage.
The rest of the table ran for the cabinet, but Harry waited as he attempted to recall lessons from six years ago. He also was in no mood to get into fisticuffs. He just knew one of them would knock his things out of his hand and he'd have to make them pay for it.
He did go get his water as he wondered where Snape's books were. Could he even get to them?
He placed the water in the cauldron then went to go get his things when the cabinet was clear. He turned back around to find Professor Ferro guarding his spot.
He raised his eyebrows when he neared, but all she said was, "Get a move on, Potter."
Unlike everyone else, he prepped first and only turned on the fire when he turned to the last ingredient, which didn't take all that long.
He was impressed with himself.
Then again, he always was.
As he brewed, he attracted looks with his unorthodox methods.
Calderon watched as Harry allowed the purple of the shrivelfigs to bleed into the boiling water and only turned it down when it was a rich purple.
Thanos eyed him when he added the sopophorus beans one at a time.
"Dump them, Potter," Christensen hissed.
Harry, of course, ignored him.
Harry tossed the wormwood in and stirred counter-clockwise.
"Clockwise, Potter," Juaquin, who was finished, said.
She looked outraged when, after the sixth stir, the potion turned a rich, sunshine yellow.
He winked then turned off the fire. With five minutes to spare, Harry placed the lid on the cauldron and sat down.
Twenty minutes later, after the professors had given a score for each potion, Harry turned to the board. It took a few moments to see he'd come in second with a fifty-seven after Phobos.
"What?" he heard several people say.
"He's a first year!"
He curled his lip at Phobos then winked at Christensen. "Told you I knew what to do."
Christensen flushed as Juaquin laughed.
Harry turned back to the board to find both Rolf and Malfoy had done well. Deimos was right behind Harry, but he took it all with a grain of salt. The best upper years were either at Beauxbatons for the Triwizard Tournament or Castelobruxo for the Potions Tournament.
Whatever.
That evening, Harry headed to Regulus' office.
"Congrats," Regulus said.
Harry waved him off. "Do you know what happened to Snape's stuff? The potions books I was mentally abused with, I mean."
Regulus started off with a grin and shaking shoulders. In a blink, though, he was cracking up. "Bloody hell, Harry. Has it come to this?"
Harry raised his chin. "I'm not unable to admit he was a good wizard and a brilliant brewer. He reworked all those recipes. I would like to go over them. Please tell me Grindelwald didn't raid that house?"
Regulus rubbed his chin. "Snape had gone home. That is to say, he was in England and he always took his things with him."
"Regulus…"
Regulus smirked at Harry. "Snape didn't live at Malfoy Manor, as you know. I think he lived in his parents' old house."
Harry shook his head. "Oh, no."
"I don't know where that is. He is impoverished and I don't call on the poor."
Harry took deep, gasping breaths.
"However, your mother – "
Harry fell to his knees. "Why?!" he howled.
Regulus laughed so hard he almost fell out of his chair.
••
Dueling
3 April 1992
Harry had sent a note to Bartemius and Narcissa. The latter, he gave more detail to in addition to promising to copy each book and share with Draco.
Unsurprisingly, it was Narcissa who came through.
I thought about this very thing many years ago, but I didn't think it prudent to duel your mother in the streets. I'm above such behavior.
I will duel you if you try to cheat me.
He lived at 13 Spinner's End in Cokeworth.
Aunt Cissy
Harry snorted and folded the letter up. His heart was racing at the thought of meeting his mother, so he put it to the back his mind.
Despite coming in second overall, Harry was happy the potions tournament was over. It had been boring. Most likely because it was simply a mock of the real thing; tests to hone their skills rather than true trials.
The second week had made Harry run into the forest for morning dew. The third week had Harry running around the grounds. Phobos had come in first, of course, but only by a total of five points.
What he was excited for was the dueling tournament, which started the first Friday in April.
"Good afternoon, first years," Professor Yeboah, Head of the Dark Arts Department, said. She was a pretty, slender black woman in yellow robes with a matching, flowery turban on her head.
They were in a dueling room, which had been enlarged so that all one hundred fifty something students, in addition to a few professors, could fit inside. Five long, vertical platforms were lined up in the center. Each had a number hovering over it. There were also large boards on the walls facing the stands. Surnames were on the left and right with a platform number in the center.
"Each of you will duel this afternoon," she said from Platform Two. She pointed to the board opposite Harry. "Your names will appear on the board with the platform number. You have one minute to get to your platform. If you fail to make it to the platform in the allotted time, you will be disqualified. Once you get to your platform, you will hear nothing but silence. There will be two beeps then the buzzer. Begin only after the buzzer sounds. Otherwise you well be disqualified. From then until the end of your duel you will only hear your opponent. Understand?"
Some said "yes" while others nodded.
"Excellent," she said. "Let's begin. Man your stations."
Harry, Mafalda, and Rolf stood. Rai stayed seated. They all looked haggard, but Rai looked frazzled and frayed; as if he was on the cusp of a breakdown. It was understandable. Not only was class difficult, but he couldn't keep up in transfiguration and he'd clearly slid in the rankings as a whole.
Harry met a slender, ginger on Platform One. This wasn't the same boy from the feast, though. Well done to that nameless kid who'd risen in the rankings.
"Bow."
Beep.
Beep.
Bzzz!
Harry pulled up from his bow, moving his wand. "Petrificus Totalus."
The boys legs and arms snapped together as Harry summoned his wand.
He handed Regulus the boys wand.
"Quick as shit," Regulus muttered. "He didn't have a chance."
"That's the point, isn't it? Karkaroff said be aggressive."
Regulus blinked slowly. "Who said what? That's sick, Harry. What an awful thing you just said. Get away from me."
Harry smiled and walked back to the stands. He passed Rai on his way there. Unsurprising, he was met with a sneer
Here he was feeling bad for him.
Whatever.
He stayed to watched the duels even after Mafalda and Rolf had gone. It was interesting. The advanced students were losing in large numbers.
"What do you see?" Regulus asked.
"You and Karkaroff did us no favors."
Regulus laughed. "You, of all people, should understand the importance of painstakingly combing over theory. This will be a lot different next year."
"Yeah, okay." He patted Regulus' shoulder. "Guess I'll put my year on my back."
••
Meeting Expectations
4 April 1992
Aello Fitzgerald was a surprise to many for she loudly showed she was better than the majority of their year. She'd taken Mafalda down swiftly much to their amazement. She was fast, Harry noticed, and good, but she was neither as fast nor as good as he.
He'd won that portion of the tournament, outlasting all of his year mates. Now, he, and forty-nine other first years, were off to face the upper years.
Harry now stood facing a fifth year, who was rolling his eyes. The boy was burly and plain and far too dismissive for his own good.
They were on a platform in the Dueling Hall, which was only half full. Most of the students didn't care about the first round as there were too many lower years.
"Bow."
Beep.
Beep.
Bzzz.
The boy slashed his wand, but Harry had come out of the bow with his wand moving.
"Impedimenta." He danced away from a purple spell as the other boy slowed down for a few seconds, which was long enough for Harry. "Expelliarmus." He followed with a potent volley of the Stunning Spell.
The red spell hit the teenager and his wand popped out of his hand. His outraged look lasted for a fraction of a moment for he crumbled to the ground.
Harry caught the wand then handed it to Winter, who accepted it with his mouth covered. Harry couldn't tell if he was amused, shocked, or both.
He hopped off the platform then returned to his seat. Getting tossed around by Karkaroff for nine months was proving beneficial.
The small portion of older students who were in the hall looked at Harry through narrowed eyes. His performance in the potions tournament made them look at him. Harry didn't know the boy he'd just tossed, but he suspected most first years didn't toss upper years.
"You're living up to expectations," Regulus said when Harry got next to him. "Yeboah is excited and Karkaroff has grown intolerable. You, Heimir, Novak, Quatri, and Juaquin…" He sighed. "The next seven years are going to be a nightmare."
••
Mercury Is Bright Tonight
16 May 1992
May turned out to be the calmest month of the year. His Professors eased up on the work and reviewed the year in preparation for exam week.
The third week of the month, Harry found himself on the Platform again. This time there was only one and the Dueling Hall was full.
Harry had, through sheer cunning and creativity, managed to weasel his way into the top forty. Morozov had been correct: any spell could be used in a duel. The student body learned what Karkaroff, and the other first years knew: he was quick.
If he won this duel, he would get to go with the top twenty students to Dreamtime Academy in Australia.
The problem was, he had to get through Phobos.
Beep.
Beep.
Bzzz.
They came up swinging and their spells met with a bang dead center of the platform. Harry, who'd watched duels with Karkaroff, matched the brutish third year spell for spell, though Phobos' were a lot nastier.
At some point, he'd felt intense disgust and deep-seeded hatred.
Filthy, half –
His eyes widened and he thought of his next action. Phobos sent a spell to the far right of the platform, but Harry jumped to his left, slashing his wand as he did so.
Phobos' curse rebounded and Harry crouched down.
"Flucto! Mittentus!"
The floor rippled as Phobos' curse returned to him. He jumped up and, skillfully, dispelled his curse. However, Harry had sent a volley to where he would land.
"Ha!" he yelled in triumph as Phobos was knocked back. "Expelliarmus."
Phobos' wand popped out of his hand and Harry jumped up to catch it as Phobos hit the ground hard.
"Holy shit!" someone said. It took him a moment to realize it was himself.
Harry handed Thanos the wand and he walked out of the hall to loud applause.
"Henry Potter taught you well," he heard Morozov say.
He looked up with raised eyebrows.
"Don't play coy," Morozov said. "He sent the spell right, but you went left. Neither Rosier would ever make such a mistake. Well done."
"Thank you, sir."
Morozov crossed his arm. "You are off to Dreamtime, unless, of course, you back out for Mr. Rosier."
Incredulity flooded Harry's countenance.
Morozov ignored the look. "It'll be an excellent learning experience." He stepped closer. "By your current performance," he said, "I wish for you to know, next year isn't out of the realm of possibilities." He exhaled. "It is rumored that Shamira Shafiq is preparing to steal your thunder and I believe she will succeed."
Harry nodded. "I know."
"You can make yourself this summer," Morozov said. He handed Harry a scroll from his pocket. "You've finished with beginner locomotive magic," he said. "So I'll be adding a number of combat related books to your case. They will be a mix of defense, protection, and dark charms and they will still be there when you return next year."
Harry unfurled the scroll. It was a list of about forty spells.
"This is only a guideline," Morozov said. "You may follow it as you like."
Harry nodded. "Thank you."
"Good luck this afternoon."
Later that day, Harry stood opposite Viktor. He winked at Harry, who stuck out his tongue.
"Bow."
Beep.
Beep.
Bzzz!
He stood up twirling his wand and, Harry, for once, was forced on the defensive for a wave of fire came at him.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so outraged.
Viktor dispelled his shield, but not before it blocked his fire. His eyes widened when he found a set of ropes speeding towards him.
"Impedimenta. Transvertus."
The ropes transformed into a shield, which blocked whatever she'd sent next with a loud boing.
"Oppugno," Harry said.
The shield shot towards Viktor, but he only just danced out the way. Harry had sent a volley behind it, which Viktor managed to bat away before regaining his balance.
He was good.
He was less complimentary when Viktor sent a barrage that consisted of curses and conjurations, which ended with him drowning in water.
All he saw was water.
All he felt was water.
"Transvertus. Oppugno."
The water turned to fire just as Harry received an eye full of a Stunning Spell. The last thing he saw was Viktor's robes catching fire.
Seconds later, Harry awoke to cheers. He sat up to find Viktor standing over him with his hand out. He took the hand and got to his feet.
"I've never been cheered before. They really hate you," Viktor said with a grin. He and Viktor clapped hands. "No hard feelings?"
"No, I have a bunch of hard feelings."
Viktor laughed as they walked off the platform.
Harry found himself face to face with Karkaroff, who was holding his wand. He rapped Harry across the head with it and Harry felt his clothes dry.
"Mistake?"
Harry sighed as he took his wand. "I didn't shield before coming out of the water."
Karkaroff held up a finger. "Protect." Another finger. "Defend." A third finger. "Then, and only when we are secure, do we attack."
"I get it."
"Obviously not."
That evening, Harry stood high on a mountain in front of a table cutting, chopping, slicing, and dicing with painstaking precision.
Thanos stood next to him and, for a few moments, watched him cut in silence. At last she said, "Your technique has improved significantly." She hesitated then said, "I know you're wise to not get a big head going against only the Rosiers, Juaquin, and Borkov but those potions were impressive and far beyond your year level."
"Thanks," Harry said.
She nodded. "Has Durmstrang met your expectations?"
"Eh, you're alright, I guess. I'd find all of you more enjoyable if you cut back a little."
She sighed as Harry stirred. "The Professors you have…we have never clamored to teach a student before. We've come to love students like Quatri, Heimir, and Novak, but they didn't show out like you did to start "
"I wasn't honored in September when Novak told me that. Definitely not honored now."
Thanos smirked. "You should be. First, second, and third year is supposed to be tedious theoretical study and this remains true for standard classes. The professors who normally teach the advanced lower years are supposed to expand on your knowledge. You know how to identify each sub-branch? Good, now let's study the mechanics of spells, potions, and herb families."
"But they don't teach that?"
"With the exception of a few? No, not as you are experiencing now," she said. "Students don't last with us not because we are too demanding, but because they've failed to learn the theory in entirety. We have a certain expectation that you will understand certain things by a year before your examinations."
Harry brought the potion to a simmer. "So it'll get easier?"
She laughed. "No."
Harry placed jobberknoll feathers into the cauldron one by one with a huff.
They fell into silence for some time while Thanos brewed. Eventually she broke it. "Will you be in Greece this summer?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Why?"
"I'll be there this July and thought you'd like to get some brewing in. We can focus on love potions."
Harry nodded. "I'll see, but if I don't I'll practice with my grandfather."
Soon enough, they were stepping away from it. Thanos performed a number of spells around it as Harry placed a clear secure lid on the cauldron.
"Giants aren't over here," she said. "Too close to the school."
They then got on their brooms to fly off the grassy mountaintop.
Now they just had to wait.
••
Dreamtime
5 June 1992
Dreamtime Academy was a gothic castle deep in the northeast of Australia. The castle was taller than Durmstrang, but shorter in length.
Harry had watched the ship come out of the lake in a whirlwind. Traveling underwater had been a fascinating experience. Viktor had had a time peeling him away from the windows.
"Here I thought I'd put this shit away for the year," he heard Viktor say as he donned his winter cloak.
They lined up in two rows with Harry and Andrei at the front. As they walked across the stone footpath to the school, he looked her up and down.
A small woman with brown skin and wavy, dark hair met them outside. She was flanked by a tall, pale man with cold, dark eyes.
"Welcome to Dreamtime Academy, Durmstrang," the woman said. "I'm Professor White and this is Professor McHale. We hope you enjoy your time here."
Yeboah shook hands with both of them then McHale took them inside.
The entrance hall was a square thing full of relief sculptures that depicted various animals and creatures. For a moment, he found himself entranced by a section of wall full of owl faces.
Professor McHale opened a set of double doors.
Color.
The room was a rainbow, which seemed to be emanating from the ceiling. A mural of a rainbow serpent was bathing the room in vibrant color.
"Another rainbow," he heard someone say.
"Least we don't have to walk up this one, eh?"
The other person laughed. "Let's make sure this one doesn't bite before we celebrate."
They were taken to one of the seven tables, which were lined with gold dishes. They filled into both sides, sitting next to another group of students in red, but their robes were brighter.
Koldovstoretz.
He looked around until his eyes landed on a pretty, rectangular-faced girl with braids. She, and the rest of Uagadou, were dressed in purple robes.
He waved and she looked at him in confusion before getting up.
"What are you doing here?" Shamira Shafiq asked in Latin.
"Same thing you're doing here."
She shook her head. "You're nine."
Harry snorted. "I'm eleven. A very talented eleven year old. You, of course, wouldn't know anything about that."
Viktor waved at Harry. "Are you speaking Latin?" he asked.
"Yes." He cleared his throat and slowly, in English, said, "Viktor Krum and Andrei Dolohov, this is Shamira Shafiq. Shafiq, Krum and Dolohov. You all can understand me. Do with that information what you will."
"Why do you sound French?" Sofia asked.
Harry shook his head. "A long story not fit this kinda company." He turned to Shamira. "I heard you're after my goal."
She raised her chin.
"I hope you get it."
Shamira smiled at him. "Thank you, Harry."
"It'll look even more impressive when I take it next year."
She scowled. "Fuck off."
A tall boy with shiny, black hair and dark eyes walked up to them. Cassius Warrington had a thick neck and broad shoulders. He also had a bracelet on his arm.
"The hell are you doing here?" he asked.
Harry shrugged. "I guess I'm here to kick your ass."
"You speak English now?"
"Not well."
Warrington shook his head. "You're a poor Englishman. I know your people are disappointed."
Harry stuck out his tongue then the two clapped hands.
Park Sung-Jin, the Head of International Games and Sport on the World Council of Magic, entered and everyone returned to their seats.
That evening, they – minus Yeboah – went to the ship's dining hall, which was full of round tables and red chairs.
Viktor and Sofia sat across from him.
"Tell me about Shafiq," Sofia said.
Harry licked his lips. "She's good at charms and transfiguration, but weak in curses. Probably more so than my weakness in transfiguration."
Viktor nodded. "Relying on curses wouldn't be smart."
"Unless you use spells that cannot be blocked by standard charms," Harry said.
"I haven't mastered those yet," Sofia said. "And I don't think dying and murdering for a dueling tourney would be smart."
••
Questions and Wrong Answers
17 June 1992
In the middle of the tourney, he sat down with Thanos and Regulus in her office at Durmstrang.
"Alright," Harry started, "You're going to drink two cups with Veritaserum in it and I want you to use occlumency."
Regulus, who he'd roped into it without giving all the details, nodded. Harry handed him a blue cup, which he downed.
Regulus' eyes glazed over.
"What's your full name?"
"Harry James Potter," he said immediately.
Harry rolled his eyes. "What's your brother's name?"
"I don't have one."
Harry snorted. "Where are you from?"
"Germany."
Harry nodded then handed him the antidote. "You're a terrible person," he said.
"Ask him if he has a brother. He won't say it's me."
Harry shook his head and passed him a pink cup, which he downed.
"What's your name?"
For a fraction of a second, Regulus hesitated. "H-Harry Potter."
Harry glanced at Thanos then asked, "Where are you from?"
Again, he hesitated, but managed, "Germany."
"Who's your brother?"
Regulus exhaled. "I don't have one."
Harry then handed him the antidote.
"Oh, dear," Thanos said. "I'll admit I was doubtful." She blew out a breath. "You may very well be on the cusp of giving a lot of people a headache."
Regulus looked at them. "What am I missing?"
"We brewed and simmered Veritaserum on the mountains when Mercury was bright and the moon was full."
Regulus eyes widened. "Oh, for fuck's sake." He looked at Thanos. "I can't believe you indulged him."
She shrugged. "Apparently, it was the right thing to do."
••
Mistress of Transfiguration
27 June 1992
Harry had lost. It wasn't surprising. What did surprise him was the amount of people who were happy to see him lose.
Some people just didn't appreciate a good underdog story.
"You embarrassed them," Yeboah had said. "It's one thing for Krum, Juaquin, and Borkov to do so. They're upper years. They'd even tolerate it from Rosier. A first year? Absolutely not." She'd laughed. "Even the other Professors have been terse with me. It's been embarrassing for everyone not in blood red." Her grin could've lit a room. "The next two years will be thrilling."
Harry was going to leave Dreamtime with a reputation: a brute who was quick with his tool. He was fine with that as he'd never leaned into standard charms. He'd had the chance, but taking people out swiftly with a barrage of dark charms had been effective. Plus, he hadn't wanted to show his hand.
Now he sat in the stands of the quidditch pitch preparing to watch Viktor face, third year Shamira in the final match.
Someone with heavy boots sat next to him. He knew it was Morozov from the minty, woodsy scent. "Nervous?" he asked in Latin.
Harry had been quiet all day and the few words he'd spoken had been terse. He took a deep break. "Yes."
"As I said," Morozov said, "next year isn't impossible."
Harry covered his mouth and shook his head.
"No?" Morozov shifted and leaned back to get a better look at him. "You have given up on your goal? After all this?"
Harry jerked and twitched, but he felt incapable of making sound.
Morozov tilted his head then nodded before turning to face the pitch. "Interesting that you are the one humbled by this experience. What's bothering you?"
Harry again twitched and jerked. Even his jaw moved, but he made no sound.
"Speak."
Harry took a deep breath, but still took a moment to answer. "I have a weakness."
"Don't we all. Not a person here doesn't know you're unequal to them in transfiguration," Morozov said. "That's what makes your ability to beat them so maddening and fascinating. You're fast and you aim well. We love children from Athens, Syracuse, Beijing, and Alexandria for that reason. The sword fighting and bow and arrow practice allows you to acquire both. But I've been told you've always had excellent reflexes."
Harry exhaled. "Thanks, but how am I supposed to beat that weakness?"
"Finding and acknowledging it is the first step. So congratulations on that front," Morozov said. He sighed. "Duels aren't won byway of transfiguration. You always have to make that conjuration or transformation do something. Viktor didn't beat you in his superior subjects. He beat you with a charm. Have you spotted Miss Shafiq's weakness?"
Harry nodded. "Curses."
"I imagine you have already told Krum so?"
Harry nodded.
"It was nothing he wouldn't have noticed during the duel, which I'm sure you know, but now he goes in with an attack plan," Morozov said. "I may have been wrong. Then again I didn't anticipate my students forming a plan. You worked to get a possible winner amongst us. I'm impressed." He cleared his throat. "Watch this duel then tell me how you intend to overcome your weakness."
After a moment, Viktor and Shamira bowed to each other.
Harry's heart-rate increased.
Shamira's water collided with Viktor's fire dead center. For a half hour, that felt like an eternity, it was a battle of transfiguration mistress and a master of curses.
But Shamira was good at charms. Ridiculously so. Harry knew only one person better and he wasn't on the platform.
Eventually, Viktor was just overwhelmed. Shamira swept him off his feet and he hit the platform. Hard.
"Endurance," Harry said after a moment. "Whenever I go against someone good in transfiguration, I fight fire with fire, but I should just endure." Viktor was simply outmatched and, if Harry lost like that, he'd accept it. One day. "I have to defend until I have an opening."
Morozov looked down at him. "Yes, you do need to remember to shield and defend and only when you have done that should you attack." He squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Excuse me."
Morozov walked down to the pitch and Harry watched him with a fire burning in chest.