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Ariana Deralte – Nataniel is safe, believe me. Severus has him under his thumb, crossing Sev would mean death in quite many ways.
Bubby – Severus is an ex-Death Eater, but as he's a spy, no one knows about it. Even when Voldemort is gone, he keeps the picture up, but due to some peculiars, he has more freedom than most death eaters, which you'll learn about later. Oh, and Sirius and Severus are working on their friendship – they've put the past behind them and are becoming friends.
And about the update thing, I'll try to update once a week now, but as the end of my term are here, I may be a little late sometimes. Not more than a day or so though.
Chapter Seven
Harry was still floating on a cloud of bliss when he woke up the next day. He had spent all of the previous day with Sev, discussing his future over a thick pile of papers informing him about advanced classes he could take. It had been a wonderful day – he loved spending time with Severus. He knew so much, and he was willing to teach it. Plus, even though twenty years separated them, Severus was his best friend with the exception of Viktor. Harry could and did tell him everything he needed a second opinion on, and Sev always had an answer ready for him. And Harry would do the same for Severus at any time.
Harry sighed and jumped out of bed. Showering quickly, he dressed in jeans and a white tee under his lavender robes, fastening the silver chain with his wand around his wrist. Then he glanced at the schedule lying on his bed.
"Martial Arts and History of Magic before lunch," he mumbled. "Funny. Let's prepare ourselves by doing that keep-your-warmth charm, shall we."
Walking through the door, he cast the spell and made his way down the stairs, accompanying Mira and the rest of the Moon group. She was a secondary and would take a whole bunch of classes, actually as many they could squeeze into her schedule. She looked rather happy about it too. He tipped them about doing the charm he taught them, and when they split up in the Second Hall (Harry was supposed to sit with the other leaders) he felt sad to leave them. And he wouldn't see them again until History of Magic as none of them had Martial Arts. He would spend the coming hours with Viktor though, and that made up for everything.
As he slumped down next to his brother, Viktor smiled brightly at him.
"Good morning!" he exclaimed. "How did your day with Sev go? Which subjects are you going to study advanced?"
Harry grinned at the on slaughter of questions.
"It was great!" he said. "And I'm going to study the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions and Elemental Studies advanced."
Viktor grinned.
"Sounds fun!" he responded. "But shouldn't you have another subject?"
The younger Krum shook his head.
"No," he answered. "Sev intends to give us more things to do now that we've settled in, and he says I'll need the time to study for his lessons. Oh, and he told me to say to you that we are to finish the books we have. He wants us to have an 'overview' of what we will do."
Viktor groaned.
"Great!" he muttered. "It's time to go to Martial Arts now. I hope you have suitable muggle cloths with you?"
"Yes," Harry nodded, gesturing towards the miniature bag hanging from his bracelet. "I shrunk the bag."
Viktor laughed and did the same to his bag he had formerly dumped under his chair. They both finished off rather quickly, wanting to be sure to get in time to the lesson.
The Martial Arts lessons took place in a customized dojo on the first floor with connecting changing rooms. Viktor and Harry steered towards the boys' changing room and quickly slipped into soft pants and a slender t-shirt in black. Then they put up their hair, Viktor his shoulder length into a ponytail and Harry his waist length into a braid. And so, they went into the dojo with the rest of their classmates.
Inside, Nataniel waited, dressed in cloths similar to theirs and with his hair in a braid similar to Harry's.
"Welcome to your first martial arts lesson this term," he greeted them. "This lesson, you can consider an introduction to the martial arts if you are new and a review for those of you who has already had this lesson. I will divide you into pairs based on your skills, and you'll be with your partner until I say otherwise.
"This year, we have chosen a new way to teach. We have decided to concentrate our teaching on how to counter what Voldemort will throw at you. Because you better believe this, he will return.
"We will begin immediately by dividing you into suitable pairs, then I'll walk around and give you an exercise to train on."
Harry had to admit that he wasn't very attentive when it came to Nataniel at that moment as he suddenly seemed to see double. To his eyes, it seemed like the inside of the dojo merged with another dojo, like Nataniel simmered within another equally tall man who was giving the same speech as Nataniel. Blank faced, Harry obediently walked over to his partner (another 1st year with the name John Timell), not really aware of what he was doing.
The dojo was nearly empty as the Master prepared him for the lesson. Most of the students there to train had already left for the night, and those who were still there, were finishing up for the evening. They looked rather pitying as the Master ordered him into an series of exercises intended to warm him up, but they didn't know. They didn't know that he had been doing this for the last seven years at school. They didn't know that he trained every day for at least an hour, they didn't know what drove him to try and perfect the skills he was striving for.
They knew him as the distant half-breed, the one everyone shunned because of his heritage. Everyone but the rest of his little foursome. He wanted it that way, and he also got it. They were the most ambitious and talented lot in this improvised school at the island of Atlantis, and they wanted to learn everything they could before returning to the other world. But he was the only one of them to indulge in the muggle ways of fighting. But that was over now. This night was the last night he was going to spend as a student to the Master. For this night, he was becoming a Master himself.
At that moment, the Master deemed him ready. He signalled for him to take his position on the floor, and he obeyed, not uttering a sound. Standing relaxed, he closed his eyes and became one with his surroundings. Heb could hear the beating of his heart, the beating of his Master's heart. And he knew he was ready.
His movements were fluent as he defended himself against the Master's attack. He didn't open his eyes one time, he just let his instincts guide him, and he never loosened his grip of his void inside. He never released too much of his energy, he just flew on winds which existed only for him. But as everything do, it ended. And when he opened his eyes, his Master was smiling at him.
"You are deemed worthy," the man seriously said. "I am Seranys."
He smiled back, a full smile with honest happiness. He was a Master.
But then the vision disappear and Harry shook his head, confused over what he had seen. Yet, as Nataniel showed them basic movements and stands, he couldn't help but realize he could do those things easily enough in his sleep.
***
Afterwards, when he and his classmates walked towards the history of magic classroom, they were all rather surprised by Harry's evident natural skills. Viktor was talking fast and excitedly, asking questions about 'where he learnt that' and gushing about 'how proud he was'. The others were not quite as enthusiastic, but they certainly came close. Mira's newly employed house elf Ketti had a field day translating all the talk. In the end, he just asked them to shut up or go talk somewhere else. After that, it was nicely quiet as they made their way to their next class.
***
Harry had sat down somewhere in the middle, close to the door. Mira had sat down next to him and Viktor had chosen to sit at the far back, muttering something about 'clumsy goat', 'hates me' and 'natural disaster'. It wasn't quite obvious what he meant by that, but Harry gathered he wanted to be out of sight.
When their history teacher stormed into the room later, Harry understood why. Geir Valle seemed to be a nice teacher, but he was also very clumsy. Only on his way to the front of the classroom, he stumbled twice, pushed three inkbottles onto the floor and dropped his books at least five times.
Mira giggled next to him.
"I've heard he's called 'Wobbly' by the students," she whispered. "He's apparently a walking disaster. Everyone likes him though."
Harry smiled at her and turned his attention to the front of the classroom, where Geir had finally managed to get all of his books onto the table.
"Hello!" he brightly said. "You will probably find that history of magic is either boring and tedious or intriguing and inspiring. I have to confess I'm one of the former."
The class laughed and Geir lit up like Rudolph the red nosed reindeer.
"Thank you," he said. "Well, as it this year are ten years since He-who-must-not-be-named was defeated, the school board has decided to teach you about him. As you all know, fear of You know who are still expressed worldwide, and no other school has dared to teach you about him, partly because they are scared. But this year, we are going to teach about him. And to do this, I've asked Nataniel, who you all know was a Death Eater once, to write an essay for me to teach from. He gave it to me yesterday, and so we will begin today by telling you all about You know who and his life."
Harry shivered. The subject of Voldemort made him feel uneasy, as he knew that the mad wizard had killed his biological parents. Yet, he couldn't help but anticipate learning about him – he wanted to know why Voldemort had murdered his one time family. Because no one had ever told him anything about the dark wizard. Maybe they thought he couldn't handle it, that he wouldn't understand, but he wanted to know, had to know. Voldemort had killed his parents, giving him a scar, and Harry wanted to know whom Voldemort was to do such a thing.
Geir sat down on the edge of his desk, almost swiping down his things again, and looked out over the class.
"First," he seriously said, "I need to ask if anyone of you has had any contact with You know who. Relatives killed, Death Eaters in the family – someone at Azkaban as prison guard or the like, someone at the British Ministry. We need to know this in order to adapt your teaching to your perception of the dark lord."
There were several nods and Geir grinned.
"Very well," he commented. "Please write down your associations with him and hand the notes to me. The faculty and I will read them through, and we'll talk to you privately some time this term."
Harry pulled a parchment from his bag and neatly cut the lower part of it off with his magic, drawing his fingertip over it to indicate where to cut. Then he grabbed one of his quills and scribbled down two sentences.
"He killed my biological parents.
My mentor is a pardoned Death Eater."
Harry folded the paper neatly and sealed the edges magically as to prevent it from fluttering up and finished by signing it with his name. Then he gracefully rose and walked over to Geir with the rest of the students concerned. When the boy handed the paper to Geir, the man smiled.
"Viktor's brother, huh?" he commented. "Maybe that'll drag your brother from his corner. I'm almost beginning to believe he's afraid of me."
Harry hid a smile and walked back to his seat. A casual glance at Viktor revealed that he was blushing furiously. The wandless magic able boy smirked and stored away the information. Maybe the unflappable Viktor wasn't so unflappable after all.
By then, everyone was back in his or her seats, and Geir could finally begin teaching. Viktor had told him that the man usually separated the class individually and gave them individual work after what they already knew, but as this subject was new, he had obviously chosen to speak with them as a class.
"Good," he seriously said. "Let's begin then. Don't forget to write down what I say, and listen. It may be crucial for your survival. Because there's no doubt that You know who will return. And you'll feel a lot safer if you know what to expect."
Harry immediately glanced at Viktor. Severus had said the same thing for as long as he could remember. And now two of their teachers said the same? Did they know something they didn't? Viktor seemed to wonder the same, but at the moment, there was nothing they could do about it.
"Be advised that I will speak of You know who as Voldemort during this lesson," Geir continued. "It's a necessity, and it's better you get used to it. When you're trying to escape a bunch of Death Eaters, you can't walk around collapsing at a mention of his name."
While Geir had given his 'let's not be afraid' speech, Harry had once again reached into his bag and taken up a magically refilling quill from the Bulgarian ministry and the resized parchment, preparing to take notes.
"Voldemort's real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and he was born 1927 in Little Hangleton, Great Britain," Geir began, his voice low and hypnotizing. "His mother was a witch, a direct descendant from Salazar Slytherin, but his father was a muggle with no knowledge of the wizard world whatsoever. Tom Riddle Sr. was a wealthy man, living in a manor. But when Voldemort's mother told his father what she was, he abandoned her, leaving her to die giving birth to their child. It grew up at an orphanage.
"His magical education began in 1938 at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. There he was sorted into the house of Slytherin, the house of the most cunning and ambitious people coming to Hogwarts are sorted. And while he liked it at Hogwarts, he despised the orphanage he lived at in the summers.
"Tom Riddle was a model student – brilliant, brave and perfect but without parents and money. But he was well liked and among his friends at Hogwarts, he began to get known by the name of Voldemort. A name everyone would come to fear.
"In 1943, he received a trophy for saving the school from a monster under suspicious circumstances – or so the current transfigurations professor, now head master, Albus Dumbledore claimed.
"During the summer of 1944, Tom Riddle Jr. decided to take revenge on his living parent. And that summer, the whole Riddle family was found dead by the Avada Kedavra curse. Tom returned to Hogwarts though, and graduated as head boy, prefect and the receiver of a Medal for Magical Merit.
"After his graduation, Tom Riddle disappeared, and no one but one knows what he did during this time. This person is the young boy, man whom has appeared by his side countless of times since 1970. The man whom came to be called Riddle because of his Animagus form, a sphinx.
"But what can be established, is that during this time, the man who became Voldemort had learned magic of pain, torture and death. Arts of destruction. And he was bent on conquering the world. He had also gathered followers called Death Eaters. He had become Voldemort.
"During the next eleven years, the world lived in terror of Voldemort. He killed and maimed innocents every day, mostly muggles and muggle born. But also half bloods and purebloods of the opposition. But the scary thing is: if something unexpected hadn't happened, he probably would've succeeded with his quest, which is why the day of his defeat is an International holiday and his defeater is rewarded with the Merlin Order, first class. And this young man was Harry Potter."
Harry jumped at this part. He of course knew of the Boy Who Lived, but he never could get over the fact they had the same name.
"The son of James and Lily Potter," Geir continued, "two of the greatest wizards in our age. Voldemort wanted to kill James and Harry Potter, but not because of their strength. It was because of their blood. The blood of the strongest founder of Hogwarts. He felt threatened by them. And so the hunt started.
"The Potters were put under the protection of the Fidelius charm and was hidden away in an unknown village. But their secret keeper turned out to be a Death Eater and he betrayed them to Voldemort. And so, on the night of All Hallows, he attacked their home and killed first James and then Lily. Last, he tried to kill Harry Potter, who was just one year old at the time. But for some reason, the killing curse reflected off young Harry Potter and hit Voldemort.
"This reduced Voldemort to almost nothing. He had no substance and was completely helpless, and so he disappeared. A one-year-old child defeated Voldemort."
As the story ended, it was silent in the classroom. And as people started to move for their coming lunch, they seemed strangely subdued. So also Harry. He absently gathered his stuff into his bag and stood up, walking towards the door. But instead of turning left when he came out, heading for the Second Hall, he turned right, heading into the unused dungeons of Durmstrang, situated under the First and Second Hall together with the Garden. There, he sank to the floor in a niche, staring into the air in front of him. It was something familiar with the story of the Potters. Maybe it was that they both had lost their parents, but he did not think so. It was something else.
Then, suddenly, the huge wall stone that supported his weight gave away. Fumbling desperately for something to grab a hold of, he plunged into the darkness below…
***
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Licca