Castelobruxo
The Heimirs
30 September 1993
"Potter…"
It was time to head to Castelobruxo. Harry had come downstairs to find Thanos waiting for him in the corner near the landing.
He walked over to her. "Professor?"
"There is a chance the book will not choose your name," she said. "Scamander, Heimir, Agyapong, and Novak are stiff competition, but you aren't just an excellent brewer. You and Heimir are fantastic athletes; a total package, so while it is possible, I do believe the other three will be fighting for the third spot."
Harry nodded.
She stepped forward to place her hands on his shoulders. "If and when you are chosen, I expect a win. If you do not return to this school as an Elite Potion's Champion, do not expect to find peace in this institution. Not after you so boldly threatened me."
"I wouldn't find peace if I hadn't and I didn't."
She inclined her head. "Yes, but now I can justify the mistreatment." She held out her hand and Harry shook it. "Good luck."
He inclined his head. "Thank you."
She clutched his forearm for a moment before Harry turned on his heel and headed down the steps to the Banquet Hall. He was unsurprised to find Rolf there, but raised his eyebrows at Draco.
He scanned the room but too many people were missing for him to tell who had chosen not to go.
"Quatri," Draco told him.
"Ah," Harry said.
He pointed his head at Rolf. "I didn't know you gave him the books."
Harry nodded. "Even playing field. I just forgot with Andrei," he said.
Draco grinned as Harry rubbed the back of his neck.
Soon they were entering their rooms on the ship. Harry took a short nap, but woke up hungry and thirsty. So he went to the dining room with his backpack on one shoulder.
Not too long after he was studying animated switching for Transfiguration when he heard footsteps. He looked up to see Freya entering. She paused for just a second before walking to the kitchens. She came back out a moment later and sat across from him.
"Morning, Potter."
"Morning, Heimir."
She tapped the table. "So who do you think will be our third?"
Harry shrugged. "Pick a girl, but make sure she's pretty."
Freya blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"What are you talking about?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm talking about the tournament."
"If that's what you want to call it," Harry said. He snorted. "Quatri isn't here so – and I hate to say this – but Deimos or Phobos."
She nodded. "I was thinking it would be the blond cunt, too. That sounds like a nightmare. He hates you and I don't give him the attention he wants."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Why not?"
"He can't beat me," she drawled. "At anything."
He held up a finger and moved it as amusement settled in. "So you mean had I not beat you last June you would have walked in here and ignored my existence?"
She waved her hand. "No. You're a third year. Your balls have barely dropped."
"They're at my knees, I'll have you know." He rubbed his face. "I think I get it: Phobos is going to get power by any means necessary, but – forgive me – who are the Heimirs? No offense, I don't know too many names outside Britain and France."
"Do you know the story of Aslaug?"
Harry rubbed his forehead. "Are you saying the descendants of King Heimir took on his name as their family name and that you are one of those descendants?"
"Yes."
Harry looked at the ceiling in contemplation then looked at her. "How do you like England?"
"Height requirement, Potter."
He rolled his eyes. "Prejudice."
"Yes." She smirked at him then said, "The Heimirs are a lot like the Potters: quietly wealthy and content on a large patch of land minding our business for the most part." A plate with a potato omelette appeared beside her. "You know Phobos well?"
Harry nodded. "Since I was two."
"What does power by any means necessary mean?"
"Him, his brother, and/or his father killing our cousins and grandfather for the Rosier ancestral home in France," he said.
She paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. "Our?"
He explained a portion of his life story to her as she ate. When he finished, she said, "Malfoy?"
"I'm trying to forgive."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Why not?"
"You're saying he didn't do the same things the Rosiers did?"
"I tried to kill him," Harry said. "We're even and I can't hate everyone."
She frowned. "Not everyone. Just people who have made you miserable."
"That's a long list of people, including two of our professors," Harry said. "Plus, I'm trying to be different from the men and women I'm constantly compared to." He looked in her face as he said, "Dumbledore is one thing. He has a little sense. If I hate everyone I'm just like Tom Riddle, Bellatrix, and His…Majesty…" He looked into her electric blue eyes; at her golden hair. She subtly looked like him. "Bloody hell."
Heimir had paled, but she collected herself in a moment and got to her feet to place her face in his. "If you say one word, I will – "
"What?" he taunted. "What will you do? We've already established I can kick your arse and I'm not afraid of you or…" 'your father' he mouthed. "Sit. Finish your breakfast."
She sat down with shaking hands, but continued to stare Harry down.
He crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. "I take it after I kicked your arse, you went to him about me because, as a sixteen year old, it would be a little odd to come to me personally. However, he has since changed his mind, yes? But you are a lot like him, so you won't be denied."
She rose up with the knife in her hand and Harry almost had his fingers chopped off. She did manage to cut across them, though.
"I deserved that, but I'm also not wrong," he said as he healed his hand.
"I am nothing like him," she spat.
He nodded. That answered a very important question. "Fine. Whatever. We can't have this conversation here. So let's go back to discussing this tournament, yeah?"
They both took a deep breath and sat down.
"Who is a surprising athlete?" he asked.
"Novak…"
••
Arrival
30 September 1993
Castelobruxo was a square, pyramid-like building made of golden rock. It was surrounded by vibrant green on all sides. He and Rolf sucked in a breath at all the wildlife; plants and trees and animals surrounded the school and were in the forest. What was most fascinating, though, was that the rock the school was built out of was very near a waterfall. Their ship had docked on the edge of it.
"This is amazing," Sofia said. "I should've come here."
"Same," Harry and Rolf said together.
Calderon stopped and looked at them. "Really? We – I – can hear you."
"Sorry," they said together.
He shook his head. "That wasn't believable." Still shaking his head, he turned around and led them to the front doors.
A black woman with long, kinky hair, dressed in silk, orange robes greeted them at the door. "Welcome to Castelobruxo," she said in German. "I'm the Headmasters, Professor Benedita Dourado. Miss Beça will lead you to the Refectory."
She was tall and pretty black girl with brown skin and braids hair dressed in emerald green and gold robes. She smiled at Harry, who held up a hand in turn.
"Raquel, Potter. Welcome to Castelobruxo," she said to him in German as she led them to the Refectory.
Harry wasn't one to notice accents, especially when they weren't in French or English, but he couldn't help but notice hers. "Thank you."
"Oi, Malfoy, can you see me?" Rolf asked in English.
Draco snorted. "Yes."
"I see you, too," Rolf said. "Can you see Juaquin?"
Draco, and those who could understand English, including Calderon, laughed out loud.
Harry just closed his eyes. They refused to believe he and Sofia weren't dating.
The inside was golden and baroque. Many of the statues standing in front of the torches held stone spears and wore feathered headdresses or ornate masks.
Raquel led them into a grand hall with stone walls covered in paintings and tapestries that depicted the history of magical Brazil. Harry thought it bold of them to include a painting of Lauressa Borjes leading an army against Grindelwald just outside São Paulo.
Seven long tables was in the hall. They were lined with glittering, gold dishes that had the image of a silver-colored, rufous-bellied thrush in the center.
Raquel pointed at a table where Beauxbatons had joined some upper years of Castelobruxo. "You may sit there this evening and go where you like until the leaving feast," she said. "Welcome and enjoy Brazil." To him, she said, "Good luck tomorrow, Harry."
He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thank you…Raquel."
She flashed him a smile before bounding back to Professor Dourado.
"'Good luck tomorrow, Harry,'" Sofia, Rolf, and a few others mocked.
"'arry," Fleur called.
Calderon looked at her and, for some reason, burst into laughter. "Go sit," he managed before walking away.
"It's not that funny," Harry called after him. He looked at Rolf, who had his mouth open. "Close your mouth, Scamander. It's unseemly to gape."
Harry sat next to Fleur, who kissed his cheeks. Much to his surprise, Delphine waved at him.
"Hello, Harry. Hi, Draco."
Harry narrowed his eyes at her then glanced at Draco, who was looking at the twins. The twins looked at her, but she ignored them.
"The bloody hell is this?" he said softly.
"Huh?" Sofia said
Harry shook his head as Fleur and Delphine looked at her. Harry introduced them and wasn't at all surprised when Sofia moved to sit between him and Fleur.
"I like this one," Fleur said. "Much better than the last."
Harry rolled his eyes. "There is no this one."
••
The Book of Elite Brewers
2 October 1993
Harry took a deep breath as he sat next to Draco.
It was time.
After the allotted twenty-fours hours where the all wrote down the names in a thick book with golden pages, it was time for the book to make it's decision.
"What are you nervous about?" the blond asked. "You can't possibly be worried."
Harry took another deep breath. "Shut up."
The hall was packed. Far more than it was during the arrival feast. However, one could hear a pin drop when Mr. Park stood in front of the podium. In front of him was The Book of Elite Brewers, which was glowing red and shaking.
"Good evening," Mr. Park said. When only a few spoke in turn, he smiled with amusement. "Very well. I shall get on with it."
He placed the book on the podium and opened it.
Harry took a deep breath.
The book swung open to a page.
"For Castelobruxo: Alessandra Pocasangre, Monique Turcios, and Antonio Aracaju."
The Castelobruxo contingent cheered and clapped. Some, including Raquel, were left to pout, but they still cheered their representatives on.
The book vibrated again.
"Representing Mahoutokoro: Hoshi Botan, Inoue Nina, and Narimatsu Ichiro." The book then turned a single page. "For Mólìmèi: Kangjeon Daeshim, Hé Feng, Asnee Beam."
Harry blew out a breath. "I might pass out."
"Representing Beauxbatons: Fleur Delacour, Delphine Lestrange, and Camille Dault."
Fleur wiggled her fingers at them and smirked. Their group, in turn, gave her their country's version of the bird.
"Uagadou will be represented by Binta Koroma, Hassan Nahr, and Shamira Shafiq."
Harry picked up his glass and poured caipirinha into it.
Vanessa stood up with a 'ha!' when her name was called. She was joined by an Ashley Graves and a Christopher Roche.
"For Dreamtime: Masina Euta, Richard Bashir, and Christine Potter."
Harry touched his forehead.
Draco turned to him. "Wouldn't it be hilarious if both of them were chosen and you weren't?"
"Draco…I'm a few seconds away from setting you on fire."
"Representing Hogwarts…"
Harry threw his head back. "Merlin, please, no."
"…Cedric Diggory, Percy Weasley, and Simeon Potter."
Draco snorted and the twins smirked at him.
"I will throw myself off the waterfall."
"Stop being dramatic," Draco said.
Harry covered his face.
"Representing Durmstrang: Freya Heimir, Mia Novak, and Harry Potter."
Harry gasped.
"Damn," Draco said. "I was looking forward to you trying to jump off a cliff."
Harry set the sleeve of Draco's robes on fire before jogging after Freya. Softly he said, "If I beat you, can I decide where we live?"
When they arrived in the room with the other students, Harry was soaking wet and laughing like a fool.
••
Heart to Heart
9 October 1993
"I'm no Scamander," Harry began, "but I think it would be amazing to roam a forest researching wildlife."
Rolf grinned at him. "Shut up."
They were sitting on the river bank with their feet dangling inside the water. They were, of course, surrounded by huge trees and silence. As it was the middle of spring, it was warm and humid, but the tall trees also did their best to shield them from the worst of the sun.
An iara was down the river sitting on the bank as well. She had brown skin and a colorful fishtail that she used to splash water. Harry glanced at her and, much to Rolf's amusement, pretended to catch the kisses she blew him.
They had their wands close by, too, for they occasionally heard something move or snap. Harry had also protected their surrounding area. He didn't want to be surprised or allow anyone to hear their conversation. The twins and Delphine were here. Merlin knew it likely they'd invited their friend to join them as well.
Harry nudged Rolf. "I've been meaning to ask…why are you here? Durmstrang, I mean. Here and Beauxbatons seem more your speed."
Something in Rolf's face hardened as he stiffened and Harry struggled to keep his face neutral.
"I don't know, Potter, why are you at Durmstrang?"
Harry couldn't help but be amused as he raised his left hand. "This bracelet. I got it from Tom Riddle because my mother hated my father enough to trust people she shouldn't have. T-Riddle happened to like me, so when he fell I found myself at the mercy of Gellert Grindelwald. And here I am." He looked away from Rolf. "But I also want to be here. Darkness, fighting, and competition." He looked back at Rolf. "It's what I'm best at. You? I don't think you like it so much."
Rolf had deflated and when Harry met his eye he turned his head to stare across the river. "My father hates my grandfather."
Ah.
Oh, boy.
"He was in school right after the loss. He had to do all seven years at Hogwarts under Albus Dumbledore," Rolf said softly. "He's angry and he hates everything about himself."
Harry nodded. Fleamont had been decades removed from Hogwarts and Charlus had been three years removed. There had been twenty and twenty-five years between the defeat and Taurus and James attendances respectively. And the Scamanders, while old, weren't as wealthy as Potter and Lestrange. Nor did they run in the same circles. Harry saw how the middle class behaved fifty years since. Harry could only imagine what young Scamander had had to deal with and in Hufflepuff of all places.
Rolf kicked his foot. "So he tried to…he told me he wanted me to know life with dignity." Rolf exhaled. "Munter is my great uncle or something."
Harry felt his eyes widen.
"And I've 'known' Grindelwald since I was a kid, so I made a deal: I go to Durmstrang and I can live with the Scamanders in England." Rolf kicked his foot again. "But I know that won't be the end."
Harry sighed and placed a hand on Rolf's shoulder.
No, it wouldn't be.
For either of them.
But Harry didn't know if he could do it. Either because he, himself, wouldn't be able to let Grindelwald run his life until he, Grindelwald, died or because Grindelwald's anger would grow. Because, as it stood, Dumbledore was far more accessible, lenient, and less dismissive. Harry felt Dumbledore would always take him seriously, even if it was just to satiate his own curiosity.
Grindelwald, no matter what he argued, would have laughed him from the room if he had come to him about Narcissa and a house-elf.
And Harry still intended to go to Dumbledore and Dumbledore would still omit. Grindelwald would never take his anger out on Dumbledore and he'd never try to take him head-on.
So what better outlet than Harry Potter?
Despite what Charlus said, he was still in England because of Grindelwald. Jason was well aware of escape methods. But Harry didn't think Grindelwald would be so blatant or so heavy-handed.
Such behavior would rouse Dumbledore and Grindelwald didn't want that fight.
Besides they weren't a danger or a liability.
He was.
Still. Dumbledore.
The question was: how much did Dumbledore like him?
Or maybe it was: how much regret did Dumbledore hold in his breast?
Or was it a combination of the two?
Rolf nudged him and brought him back to the present.
"So…Malfoy?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "What about him?"
"I didn't think you liked him."
"My dad is dating his mother, so I'm trying to work through past hatred."
Rolf laughed. "Do you think you'll end up stepbrothers or something?"
"Most likely," Harry said. "I think they like each other. They're not that different actually. My father was just raised by better people, so he's not that big of a…" He shook his head. "Plus, it'll benefit both their sons."
"All three?"
Harry smirked. "I'm Henry's favorite. There's nothing they can do for me that Henry can't."
Rolf shook his head. "Andrei should be at Hogwarts next year, right? Will Malfoy be since he's sticking to you?"
"I think so," Harry said. "Why?"
"How would you like to be an animagus?"
Harry blinked and didn't answer.
"It would be ace to roam through a rainforest. I mean we can roam through it one day, but wouldn't it be amazing to do so as a bird or a cat or a-a…"
"Roach?" Harry suggested. "That's a possibility."
Rolf rolled his eyes.
"Yeah," Harry continued. "I've thought about it. I do want to do it."
He'd just wanted James to be involved.
At this moment, though, he did not. James' letters were terse and Harry wasn't looking forward to conversations with him when he returned home. Plus, it was unlikely James was in the mood to teach him how to be an animagus. Even if he was, Harry was with his father maybe six weeks of a year. Never mind that he'd try to involve Simeon and Darius.
No, this way was better.
Plus, he could ask Slughorn or Dumbledore for assistance.
"I've been reading about it. Maybe we should practice keeping things in our mouth for a month. I also checked the moon phases. We can try to get started next August," Rolf babbled.
Harry nodded. "We'll have to stock up on mandrake leaves 'cause Scotland is a little cloudier than England and we'll get there when it's definitely not summer anymore."
"Oh," Rolf said. "Well we'll keep trying until you get it."
Harry splashed water in his face. Rolf in turned pushed Harry, who slipped into the river. Harry tossed more water in Rolf's face and Rolf dove into the water after him. The roaring thirteen year olds were so consumed with each other, Harry failed to notice all the eyes watching them.
••
Party Planning
15 October 1993
"Cassius," Harry called waving his hand.
The older boy looked around and held up a finger.
They were in the dining room and Harry had a bowl of picadillo in front of him. He was sitting in an interesting group with Vanessa, Fleur, Freya, Rolf, and Draco. Sofia was right beside him drinking some lemonade
When Cassius came over, he brought Carmichael and Davies, who grinned stupidly at Fleur.
Cassius slipped in beside Vanessa and across from Harry while Carmichael sat with Rolf and Davies sat next to Draco and across from Fleur.
"What do you want, Potter?" Cassius asked.
"Give me some small name and new money Britons who won't insult me in my house," Harry said.
Cassius paused with a beef pastel near his mouth. "For what?"
"You know how Henry and co. are currently making sure the Boneses know who they are? Well, I have to get to know you people, so I can show people who I am in twenty years," Harry said. "He wants me to throw a party."
Vanessa perked. "Yay. When?"
"Sorry. You're not invited." He shrugged in the face of her affront and turned back to a highly amused Cassius. "So?"
"What do you mean I'm not invited?"
Harry sighed. "Don't be offended. Only the Englishmen at the table will be invited."
Sofia looked at him.
"You are from Spain," he told her.
"I know where I'm from."
He turned back to Cassius, who said, "Well there's Bobbin. Melinda. Her family runs a chain of apothecaries all over Britain and Ireland. I think they've even reached the states."
Harry wrote the name down.
"Marcus Belby," Carmichael said. "He's kind of an idiot, though. Nothing you'd expect from Damocles Belby's nephew."
He wrote the name with an asterisk.
"Since you're in a forgiving mood," Carmichael continued, "Pucey."
Harry made a face.
"He's a bastard," Cassius said. "Nothing to be trusted unless you're winning, but his family's on the come up." He held up a finger. "Zabini."
Draco choked on his empada. "Circe, Warrington. There are three unmarried men in that house and the Minister for Magic." He pointed at Harry. "If you want your fortune, keep Blaise out of your house. I swear he scopes for his mother."
Cassius wagged his finger. "Don't listen to him. She has a husband right now and Blaise's family is wealthy in Italy."
"We go to Madam Zabini's house every August," Fleur said. "A ball for socialites. Her daughter seems to be a good person."
Harry snorted and reluctantly wrote the name down.
Davies held up a hand. "Davies."
Fleur laughed. It was the fakest laugh Harry had ever been subjected to, but Davies didn't notice for he was back to staring at her stupidly.
"I don't know who I'm more embarrassed for," Vanessa said.
"Have some dignity," Harry said. "Both of you." He shot them one last look of disgust before turning back to the howling Cassius.
Cassius, Carmichael, and even Draco helped him complete a list of names for a party, which he told them would be early July.
"I'm coming," Vanessa announced.
Harry only just managed to bite back the innuendo.
Vanessa, however, saw it and leaned forward. "Say it."
"Shut up."
That evening, he sat with Sofia on the deck outside his bedroom.
"Why is your family making sure another knows who it is?" she asked as she played with the hem of his shorts.
"'Cause they think that because my great-grandfather h-hid, he's – we – are powerless."
She brought her knees to her chest. "My papa is kind of important in Spain," she said. "We, too, have a party every year before Christmas. The solstice. Will you like to come?"
Yes, he'd been told about Emmanuel Juaquin. He came from a long line of small politicians who'd managed to marry well. His father had been the biggest of the family, making his way to New York and Geneva; the former International Confederation of Wizards and the now established World Council of Magic. Sofia's grandmother was a Machado from Portugal. 'Rich wine makers who've stood the test of time' according to Charlus. Her mother was a Valiente. 'The rumors about the Valientes and their associates are similar to those about Malfoy' Narcissa had said.
Emmanuel was now making a bid for President of Spain, which meant Harry a) had been waiting for an invitation and b) would be bringing Bartemius and Emmeline along.
Harry inclined his head. "Of course, and I'll try to get my grandmother to send a New Year's invitation to your father."
She smiled. "Thank you."
••
Extreme Competition
23 October 1994
"How does an Englishman become a vegetarian?" Freya asked.
Harry shrugged. "How does a German?"
Freya held up her hands. "I don't know. I'd be curious to find out how one of them came to only eat berries and dairy like a sixth month old."
Mia, who had been bouncing her leg up and down, laughed.
"Forgive me my lack of cheese, bacon, and potatoes."
"No," Freya said.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't you have more pacing to do?"
"No."
He huffed. "Is that all you can say?"
"No."
Mia laughed harder.
Calderon entered the ship's dining room to find a laughing Mia, an amused Freya, and an annoyed Harry. "This is a good sign," he said. "Your nerves aren't getting in the way of your good spirits. Well…spirits," he said as he took in Harry's face. "Problem, Potter?"
"Heimir is using me to keep herself in good spirits."
Freya tossed her hair. "I simply asked a question."
Calderon shook his head. "Is there anything I can do?"
Harry held up a hand. "Do you have anything stiff to calm my nerves and bring the color back to her face?" he asked while pointing his thumb at Mia.
"Yes."
When Calderon didn't move, Harry said, "May we have some?"
"No."
Freya laughed.
"Bah, you cannot help me." He pointed at Calderon. "I bet Professor Slughorn is liquoring up his students right now."
Calderon snorted and moved his head in agreement. "There is a high chance – ahem – Potter, please, I want to remain professional."
Harry grinned at him and wondered at the reputation 'Ol' Sluggy' had built for himself.
Calderon cleared his throat again. "Alright, today is marginally difficult. It's a three-part day full of extreme weather. You two," he said to Harry and Mia, "are well acquainted with heat. All of you know cold weather. The challenge, of course, will be in the third and whatever is going on in the possible heat and cold. Any questions?"
They shook their heads.
"Today doesn't decide the winner," Calderon said. "Your strengths are in rounds two and definitely three. Just do your best to stay within striking distance."
"Yes, sir," Freya said.
Mia took a deep breath as she nodded.
Harry just exhaled.
Twenty minutes later, they entered a large, clear dome on the quidditch pitch. It encased everything except the stands, where at least a hundred spectators sat.
Eleven tables of three went around the dome. Every table had one school coat of arms hovering above it and one board to the left and right. A person dressed in green with the Brazil coat of arms on their left breast was also stationed at each table.
A twelfth table was in the center. It looked as if it could hold eleven people and, indeed, after telling them to relax, Calderon headed to sit at the table.
A few minutes later, when each table was full, Park Sung-Jin pointed his wand at his throat.
"Good morning," he greeted. "Relax."
The interpreter at their table repeated what he said.
Mia groaned. "If I never hear that word again I'll be happy."
"Today is fairly simple," he said. "Three rounds of two and a half hours in extreme weather."
Harry and Mia snapped their head up.
"We have an extra half hour…" Harry said
They looked at Freya, who rolled her eyes.
"The boards to your left and right will display the recipe you are to brew and the time you have left. You've been supplied with all the tools and ingredients you'll need," Mr. Park said. "Scores will be on a one through ten scale with ten being the highest. You will be awarded based on completion and how well you have brewed." He looked at watch. "The buzzer will go off in a few minutes. You are to begin then."
Mia sat down. "Who's our stiffest competition?"
"Uagadou," he and Freya said together.
"And Hogwarts," Harry said. "As much as it pains me to admit my brother probably brews better than I do and I know Diggory and Weasley are very good. But…I know they don't practice like we do or have a professor spend an extra six hours a week with them."
Mia looked at him. "I only get three hours."
"Same," Freya said.
"Sorry?"
Freya faced him with her arms crossed and Mia did the same.
"Who were you under that could give you six hours?" Mia asked.
Out of his peripheral, he saw Freya narrow her eyes. "Thanos?"
Mia gasped.
"You've been working with Thanos twice a week for the past two years?" Freya asked.
Harry was saved by a buzzer going off.
All three paused as a very dry and intense heat rose up to consume them. The trio froze before Mia dove down to open her drawers, which did so with a bang.
For a few moments, the other two stared at her fumble with her tools and ingredients. Then Harry laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Calm down," he said. "You're losing your ingredients. Take out your tools in an orderly manner."
Mia took a deep breath then grabbed her tools.
"Get your ingredients off the ground and make sure there's no dirt on them. Rinse them off and dry them if you have to."
"It's hot as fuck," Freya announced.
Harry hadn't noticed for he was watching everyone else scramble with no small amount of amusement.
"Why is it so fucking hot?"
Harry couldn't help but grin. "Oh, I have this in the bag."
"Fuck you," she said.
"You have two hours to keep your bacon, potatoes, and cheese in your stomach," he told her. With that, he turned to the board.
The Draught of Peace.
He knew Snape's annotations for this. He'd studied Snape's Advanced Potion Making like he'd studied nothing else. He could recite most of it by heart. Those he couldn't were potions that needed to simmer for days, weeks, or a month.
With a few minutes gone, he turned to pull out his tools and ingredients.
"Don't get any sweat in your pot or on your ingredients or potions," Harry said. "I think that's what the towel is for by the way."
A red-faced Freya looked around then snatched the towel before turning back to her ingredients.
Harry then put his head down and got to work.
With the extra half-hour, all three were more careful than they would have been at Durmstrang. Freya took a few moments every five or so minutes to take a deep breath.
Harry, much to his surprise held his tongue. Now was not the time to needle as he did want Durmstrang as a whole to get the trophy. But he knew it would only get worse for her when it was time to turn on the fire.
When she turned back to her potion, he said, "When the lavender boils, take a deep breath."
Harry followed his own advice and so did Mia. As his lavender and few sprigs of peppermint boiled, he inhaled.
A little less than two hours later, he placed the lid on a shimmering, white potion. Mia had already finished hers and Freya was doing her remaining stirs.
The combined smell told him each potion was potent. Freya did her fifth turn and her potion turned white. It didn't shimmer as much as Harry and Mia's, but, under the circumstances, she'd done well.
"That wasn't so bad," a red-faced Mia said as he sat down.
"Nope," he said as he fanned himself with his sweat-soaked robes.
He looked around. Everyone else was still working. Well, except Shamira and Hassan Nahr.
Bloody Uagadou.
Mia followed his eyes. "Ugh."
"Exactly."
Twenty minutes later, they stood facing the boards. All eleven professors had stopped at each table to taste, sniff, and eyeball the contents of their cauldrons. Now, at any moment, they'd receive their scores for their first brew.
Mia gasped.
Shamira and her teammate, Binta Koroma, were in first with a total of one hundred ten. Other names like Delacour, Aracaju, Jalali, and, interestingly enough, S. Potter and C. Potter, as well as a few others had tied with them. He and Mia had tied with a number of others in second with one hundred-nine. Freya was lost somewhere in the top twenty with one hundred seven.
Harry looked behind him at the other board. Durmstrang was tied seventh with Mahoutokoro. Uagadou was in first with Hogwarts and Almalja right behind them. Castelobruxo, Dreamtime, and Mólìmèi were in front of Durmstrang.
"Who knew so many people could brew well in a heat wave," Mia said.
"Well done ladies," Harry said.
Freya scoffed.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Please, everyone won't be able to brew like this when it's freezing or windy and Koldovstoretz practically took itself out already," he finished pointing to the board.
The Russian school was in dead last. He suspected they'd redeem themselves later. As would Freya, who had her jaw set.
When they were released Freya stumbled outside to a bin to empty her stomach.
With a scrunched up face, Harry stood on his toes to get a peek. "Well…there goes your pork. And I see the potatoes."
Mia snorted, but covered her mouth when Freya looked up to glare.
"Maybe you should eat like a newborn, too," he mused as Freya pulled out her wand.
Harry danced behind Calderon and stuck his tongue out.
"Behave, children," Calderon said.
Later, they sat at a table together with Harry finishing his charms work for the semester while they waited for two thirty.
Draco threw himself in a chair opposite them. "Well…I hope you do better this afternoon." He tossed his head. "The twins look satisfied, Delphine is all too pleased, but the worst thing might be Hogwarts. Merlin, I cannot have a Diggory, Weasley, and a Potter looking at me all smug." Draco shook his head. "Bloody hell, Potter your brother is grinning like he's won the whole thing. For your sake and mine, please, do something."
Harry darted a look at Freya, who was scowling. "My brave Dragon. Ham and potatoes here couldn't handle the heat. She can't beat me up, but she can take her frustrations out on you."
Draco glanced at Freya and his eyes widened comically. "They can't give Uagadou, Almalja, and Castelobruxo extreme heat without giving Durmstrang, Koldovstoretz, Ilvermorny, and the east Asian schools the cold," he scrambled to say. "The toss up will be the third weather. What do Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Dreamtime have in common?"
"Mountains?" Harry said.
Draco made a face. "No, you idiot – "
"Yes," Mia said. "That's sort of the right answer and that one will benefit us, too. If we're right and we get super cold weather, then the other weather will be mountainous, I guess?"
"Alpine," Freya corrected. "It should be cool and humid, but they're cunts, so the weather will also change from one extreme to another and there will probably be some wind, rain, and snow, too." She nodded. "Thank you, Malfoy."
Draco inclined his head. "Happy to help."
Later that afternoon they returned to the dome with more spectators looking on.
Freya blew out a breath. "If this is highland climate, we should take our ingredients out one by one. Quickly work on things when there's no wind or water involved. Use all one hundred and fifty minutes if we have to."
"Finish," Mia said. "We can do this."
The buzzer went off at two-thirty and they breathed when moist, crisp air fell over them. They turned to the boards: Essence of Insanity.
Harry immediately dove down to remove the augurey and fwooper feathers. He made quick work of cutting the augurey feathers against the grain and had just shoved his shredded fwooper feathers in the drawer when a great wind blew by. It was cold and full of snow.
Mia lost her feather in the gust of wind and had to dive to get it back.
They placed their lids on their cauldrons then paused to look at the board. Attempting to grind coffee beans with frozen water in the air wouldn't be smart. So they stood there and looked around. Most of the competition was scrambling. Koldovstoretz stood their grinning. Those from Mólìmèi and Ilvermorny watched the scramblers with disdain.
After about ten minutes, the wind calmed to a moist breeze and the snow disappeared. All three Durmstrang students filled their cauldrons with the required amount of water and placed the lid on, but Harry set his to the side to roast his coffee beans for a few minutes.
He was halfway through grinding them when the wind returned, but this time it brought rain, thunder, and lightning.
He tried to turn the burner on, but it wouldn't ignite.
"Fuck!" Freya said.
"Thank Merlin we've been taught to make quick work of ingredients," Harry said as they ducked under the table.
By the time they were done with their ingredients over a half hour had passed. That was fine as they'd all started boiling their water with more time on the clock than they had any March at Durmstrang.
He felt good about his own potion and the team as a whole. From the sniffles, huffs, and curses coming from surrounding tables it wasn't going so well for others.
An hour and forty-six minutes later, Harry stepped away from his cauldron with less than ten minutes to spare. Mia was already seated and Freya was putting the finishing touches on hers.
"We finished and they look good," Harry said.
The professors agreed.
Harry and Mia, again, tied at second with one hundred nine. Most of the names that tied with them had been at or near the bottom. However, Ayesha Jalali, Binta Koroma, and, annoyingly enough, C. Potter, S. Potter, and Delphine Lestrange were still ahead of them in total points. The lone one ten this time was Freya.
Durmstrang had pulled up to second behind Uagadou in total points.
"Bloody Uagadou," Harry said out loud.
"Here's to hoping brewing in a room covered in literal ice and snow comes in handy," Mia said. She looked at him. "Well, it's cold down there with the dead."
Harry shook his head. "I was in Ferro's freezing classroom all month. He made sure I sat right near the wall every class, so I could get use to the 'biting wind.'"
"Potter, I didn't know your brother and cousin were so good," Calderon mused when he stopped by the table while they ate lunch.
Harry looked up with a meatball on his fork. "Out of all the teachers I've ever had, you are definitely my least favorite."
Calderon laughed. "Thanos has Jason, doesn't she?"
Harry nodded. "She's the one who grabbed him from the Palladion."
"Do you have anymore cousins or siblings?"
Harry shook his head. "Not yet."
Calderon threw his hands in the air and made to walk away, but paused, "You had Ferro for a bit this year, correct?"
"Yes, sir?"
"So you know to care for your glasses before you start brewing in certain temperatures, correct?"
Harry gaped at him. "I'm supposed to know that, yes, but I appreciate the reminder."
Calderon nodded and, before he walked away, said, "Good luck this afternoon, Potter."
"You don't like your brother?" Sofia asked. "Or can't you handle being second best?"
Harry paused at the bite in the question. It was a lot like Mafalda's jabs in years past. He knew most of the older students were disgruntled and he didn't care all that much, which was why he grinned at her.
"I'm not second best. At anything. Certainly not to Simeon," Harry told her. He winked. "I'll see you later."
With that, he threw what little food he had left in the trash and headed to his bedroom. Rolf and Draco joined him minutes later.
"Are you using Snape's recipes?" Draco asked from his chair in the corner.
"Yeah, but for the Draught of Peace I didn't have chamomile and I over roasted my beans for Insanity."
Draco exhaled. "So it's you who still sucks. Thank, Merlin."
"Bugger off, Malfoy."
"So what's it like?" Rolf asked. "Why was Heimir throwing up her guts?"
Harry stretched. "We were in heat wave for two and a half hours. I've never sweated so much in my life. If you've never been in the heat like that, you could have a stroke. One from Koldovstoretz almost did. It's fine. Fun, actually. I can't wait for when we have to find ingredients."
Draco looked at Rolf. "He's unwell."
Rolf nodded. "I can tell."
As the sun went down, the thirty-three students of the Elite Eleven returned to the dome. Well…thirty-two. Freya ran in with Calderon just a couple moments before the door closed.
"Sorry," she said. "I took a nap."
"How can you sleep at a time like this?" Mia asked.
Harry shook his head. "The starch in your potatoes make you sleepy?"
"Remind me, Potter, to never mock your eating habits," Freya said. "You're annoying and relentless."
Harry bowed. "I do my best. Glad to see my efforts are paying off."
The lights came on in the dome then eight thirty struck. It was signaled by a buzzer going off. A chill settled over the area. Over Freya's shoulder, Harry watched as ice crept up the dome walls and over the grass floor.
"Bless Frigg," Mia said.
"Blood Replenishing Potion," Freya said.
Harry turned around and the three of them got to work as if this was just another Potions class.
By the time the professors were ready to give the scores, the trio had finished brewing for almost an hour. Koldovstoretz, Mahoutokoro, and a couple from Ilvermorny had finished early, too. Their translators had even protected their potions from freezing in the wait time.
They faced the boards with Mia clutching Harry's arm, Harry clutching her shoulder, and Freya clutching his.
"Yes!" Mia said as she jumped up then around to hug Harry.
Harry hugged her back. "We all scored one ten?"
"Yes!" she shouted in his ear.
They weren't the only ones. Those from Mólìmèi, Koldovstoretz, and two from both Mahoutokoro and Ilvermorny had done so as well. Most importantly none from Uagadou and Hogwarts had.
"We're in the lead!" Mia shouted in his ear. "Durmstrang is in first!"
Freya was one point behind them and tied with Binta Koroma. Shamira, Vanessa, Fleur, Christine, and Simeon were all in the top ten. Simeon was tied third and Christine was in fourth.
"Durmstrang in first and all three of us in the top five, two Englishmen in the top five, and three Potters in the top five," Harry said. "Everything I touch turns to gold."
Mia pushed him.
"Well done," Calderon said in the dining room later. "Like I said the next two rounds are our strengths, but pay attention to – "
"Bloody, Uagadou," Harry said.