A/N: thanks for the reviews as always! :)))
Crazycutee831: no, Mileta won't make a love potion.
Kit Cloudkicker: you'll get to know what the row was about… in the final chapter *evil grin*
Moony Lover: I started the sequel, but there's still a lot to do with this fic as well. No, Anegin's Tatyana has nothing to do with the Potions prof – you should read Pushkin's Anegin, it's a really good epic. The main character is a Byron like guy – Jevgheniy Anegin. He is quite rich and feels that his life isn't worth anything. Then he meets a girl called Tatyana, and the girl falls for him, but he doesn't want her, because he is sure that he would only make her unhappy. Years later he meets Tatyana again – then she is already married to a Russian prince. Then Anegin falls for Tatyana and wants to get her, but she tells him that she won't cheat on her husband. So the story has a sad ending, poor Anegin is left alone. I only made a bit of a joke of him in this fic, nothing more. You'll get to know about the hidden chamber in time.
X_Tow_Naga: wow, the longest review so far! About Harry's glasses: this is not my task to explain, ask Rowling! About the yeti: sorry, I might disappoint you (or maybe not, we'll see). By saying 'central heating' Aberforth meant the blankets (he even pointed at the blankets, it was just a joke, you know how silly he is). Why is the sled visible all winter? Well, maybe Santa is making joyrides :) How can a reindeer look hurt? Well, to normal people the reindeers surely didn't show any emotions, it was just Harry who thought they looked hurt – remember, he has a special connection to them. I'm not telling about the Black Manor scenes in advance, be patient. Why are there only Christians? That was quite a stupid question: this story isn't about religions, you know. Anyway, there were enough Moslems and Hindi in TGSoHH.
Mikey: we in Hungary usually get the HP books 3-4 months after the British/American release, because our translator (who is an absolute genius, his text is better than Rowling's) needs time to translate it. I've read the HP books 7 times in Hungarian, 3 times in English and now I've just finished the first one in German (it was much worse than in English and Hungarian).
Baby Angel: thanks a lot.
Arif: no, by saying that you have meet the bad guy 'partly' I didn't mean anything about splinching. You'll see later. I made my friend translate your Spanish sentences in SMS. I didn't understand a thing, I'll only start Spanish during the summer I guess. I'm glad that you liked the pic, but it's by far not my best HP pic (though I don't have my fave pic – Harry in front of the Mirror of Erised – scanned yet, I might ask my friend to do it for me later.)
aurora riddle: hm, I thought that eddy meant the same as turbulance, see there are many things I don't know in English :( Harry saying that all ugly girls fall for him didn't mean that he had such a big ego, he didn't tell it to anyone, did he? He only muttered it to himself – he isn't that stuck-up to tell it to anyone and hurt someone.
Tessa: no, sorry, but Aberforth will keep Santa's secret. (don't worry, you'll get to know other secrets from him later – for example his story with the goat.)
Rab: read my answer to Tessa. Balalaika is a Russian music instrument that looks a bit like a guitar. About Anegin's Tatyana read my answer to Moony Lover.
Waldomier: read my answer to Tessa. In Hungary people wear their wedding rings on the right hand, I don't know where they wear it in England and other countries.
jennyKT: Dan? He is only five months old. Or did you mean Dennis? He is sixteen years old.
PepsiAngel: yes, pyjama is the British spelling for pajama. So, you're a Gilderoy fan? Great! I'm definitely going to read your fic! GOOOOOOO GILDY!!!!
Mage: not telling about the Black Manor part in advance, have patience! :)
Harrysgirl: I hope you have healed by now.
HpgoldySnitch: I'm happy to see you again!
Xixi105: in my humble opinion this fic isn't better than the first one – yet. But my mom (my beta reader, who read it to the end) said that it was better than TGSoHH, so I tend to believe her :) (I'm going to read your poem soon.)
Rubyjuls1722: is Spanish that hard? Strange, my best friend studied only two months and got a language certificate in it – well, I'll see soon whether it's hard or not – I'm going to start Spanish during the summer, I think.
thebiggesthpfan: whole fic finished, but still correcting it.
Maddy: I also like the smurfs, especially that one with the glasses, I don't know his name in English – he is so much like Percy, isn't he?
teacherchez: don't worry, there will be a Voldie dream mentioned in… chapter 13! Oh, imagine, last night I dreamed that I was reading HP book five. Cho died in there, got mummified and was put into a sarcophagus! (And Harry was crying over her…) I'm reading a book called 'The pharaoh', so I'm sure that's why I mixed HP with mummies in my dream :)
spangle*star: yeah, it's different here – people wear wedding rings on the right hand. Strange, huh?
Gwen Fifortry: you're making me blush!
BlueIce: I'd like cheese-burger with no cheese in Hungarian: "sajtburgert kérek sajt nélkül".
LeaniG: no.
Cassandra Anthemyst: read my answer to spangle*star. You know The Dragon?
I AM THE BEST AUTHOR: let me congratulate you on being the best author. May I ask something: if my story is fucking shit, then why have you read it till chapter 10? (it was just a rhetorical question.)
haaaahahaha (or whatever): flames only mean that the flamer is envious of the author. No more comment.
Lana Potter: read my answer to Rab.
zzxm: of course you'll see Hedwig again, I like her, too.
Nefertiri: you'll see Albus (twice), but he won't have too much of a role. There'll be a bit of Hogwarts as well.
xenocide: it's a gift given to a few random people, just like the Force with the Jedi, you know. Read my answer to spangle*star.
K. C. Hunter: Vronsky, huh? Well, in my fic he'll be called Wronsky. (I haven't read Anna Karenina yet, but I'm planning to do so during the summer. I only saw the movie with Sean Bean and Sophie Marceau, it was cool.) May I ask where you are from?
Pumpkin3223: Sirius doesn't deliberately teach bad words to Lily, he just says them and she learns them – you know what kids are like, they say expressions they don't even understand. No, sorry, Aby will keep his secret about Santa, but I promise that he'll reveal another interesting secret… about the goat. Torch is torch in British English as well, there's no 'u' in there. Yes, I heard that it might be the title of book 6, but then I heard that it was just a rumour. Well, we'll see. (oh, and don't worry, you weren't flaming me! Flames were only those that I AM THE BEST AUTHOR and hahahahhaaa wrote for me, but I don't care for them at all!)
your fan: thank you, I know that they are only envious, I told them as well (not that they'd read my answer to them) I also share your opinion that they are cowards. Cowards do that all the time: write flames without signing in. You know what? I didn't realise that English wasn't your first language, you speak it (write it) very well! Gracie for the review!
The Face of Evil: Barthy Crouch streak? Kind of… and still not. You'll see. (btw, I'm happy to see you again, Aditya!)
obi_ewan_maul_lover: holy Snitch! I totally gave up on seeing you again! So of course I'm very happy now! :))
TO THOSE WHOSE REVIEWS I HAVEN'T ANSWERED: DON'T BE ANGRY WITH ME, BUT I SIMPLY CANNOT ANSWER ALL REVIEWS, BECAUSE THAT WOULD MAKE THE A/N SECTION LONGER THAN THE ACTUAL CHAPTER. THE OTHER REASON: MANY OF YOU ASK QUESTIONS THAT, IF ANSWERED, WOULD REVEAL TOO MUCH OF THE LATER EVENTS, AND I DON'T WANT TO TELL THINGS IN ADVANCE, BUT I DON'T WANT TO LIE EITHER.
Chapter 11
Shopping and sobbing
Aberforth led Harry and Hermione to a fur-coat shop – the text 'Rasputin's mink, fox, ocelot coats – their original owners never felt cold in them!' was shining in the shop-window, both in Russian and English.
"We don't need new coats, Aberforth." Harry remarked. "Mine is warm enough… if only those pogrebins would stop attacking me!"
"We aren't here to buy coats." the old man replied cheerfully. "Mine is also warm and elegant enough." he straightened himself proudly in his Santa Claus-ish coat.
"Then? What are we doing here?" Harry asked.
"I know it." Hermione smiled. "This is the entrance to the wizarding St. Petersburg."
"Really?" the young man raised an eyebrow. "Oh well, you've been here once, after all."
"Follow me." Aberforth said and they entered the shop.
It was a nice, elegant shop with lots of beautiful and expensive fur-coats. There was a notice board propped against the wall, saying: We are looking for shop assistants
Aberforth – seeing the board – stifled a laugh. Harry had no idea what could be so funny.
Two shop assistants hurried up to them with wide smiles. "Can we help you, lady and gentlemen?" they asked.
"Well, let us look around a bit." Dumbledore replied. "We haven't decided yet what kind of coats we need."
"Certainly, sir." one of the shop assistants bowed slightly. They were very young and enthusiastic – this was their first day in this shop and they wanted to make a good impression on the customers and the owner as well.
Aberforth headed for the back of the shop, pretending to be interested in a nice, warm coyote-fur-coat.
"And now?" Harry whispered.
Hermione beckoned him to a dressing room. He entered and saw three mirrors on each wall of the dressing room. Aberforth somehow managed to squeeze himself in either, and pulled the curtain to hide the cubicle.
"Aberforth, why do they need shop-assistants if there's already two of them?" Harry asked, looking around in the small cabinet.
"I'll explain later." the old man replied, his eyes jovially glinting. "Watch this." he tapped the mirror on the wall in the middle with his wand. Suddenly the mirror's surface seemed to ripple and dissolve, producing a human-sized opening.
"Not bad." Harry said and all three of them entered the wizard quarter of St. Petersburg.
* * * * *
"Where have they gone?" one of the shop assistants asked the other.
"No idea, Ivan." the other shrugged. "People just come in and disappear without leaving the shop."
"I know, Grisa, but it's simply creepy. I start to believe that this place is haunted. Ghosts come and take our customers."
"Nah. Why would they?" Grisa drawled. "If there were ghosts in here, they'd take us first, wouldn't they?"
"And what if it's some kind of a trick of our competitors? For example those unbearable Three Sisters in the next street. They want to lure our customers to their shop!"
"Even if they wanted, they wouldn't just kidnap them from our shop without us noticing, would they?"
"Oh, look, a new customer!" Grisa said. "But… he's coming out from the back of the shop! I don't remember having a client looking like this today. Am I going crazy?"
"No." Ivan sighed. "We both are going crazy. I suggest we hand in our notices and go find a job in the Three Sisters' fur-coat shop."
Grisa nodded, and they both watched the man, wearing a robe-like overcoat, saying good day to them and leave the shop.
One hour later the owner of Rasputin's fur-coat shop put the sign We are looking for shop assistants into the shop-window, heaving a resigned sigh. It was the sixty-fourth time this year he was looking for new shop assistants, because none of those spent more than three days in his shop. "Damn bad-luck." he murmured, believing that the Three Sisters had tampered with his shop.
He decided to make an inventory to see whether something had been stolen, but he already knew that nothing would be missing. It was the forty-seventh time this year that he had made an inventory, but nothing ever was missing. He didn't understand it. Not at all.
He shook his head in disbelief, seeing that no one had stolen anything. Only his customers were missing.
"I'm going to the police this time." he pledged. "Or to the court. No one's entitled to steal my customers!"
* * * * *
"Wow! I like this place!" Harry said, looking around in the cobble-stoned street they got into. It was so different from the wizarding Cairo and Calcutta he had visited two years before, and even quite different from Diagon Alley, too. Somehow it seemed wilder.
They crossed the marketplace where witches and wizards were waving fish at them, yelling that they were really delicious and had been caught in the morning from the Baltic Sea. There were a lot of old people among them. The old women were wearing large shawls, the old men cloaks with hoods that hid their faces.
"Why are they wearing such funny hooded cloaks?" Harry asked Aberforth.
"Well… that's the local custom for old wizards and witches… they don't like to show their wrinkly faces." Dumbledore shrugged. "See, not everyone is as lucky as me, to have a face as smooth as a baby's bottom!"
Harry rolled his eyes. Not that Aberforth didn't look cool for his age, but this baby's bottom thing was a bit of an overstatement.
As they arrived at a round square with a frozen fountain in the middle, they caught a glimpse of a dancing bear.
Seeing the surprise on Harry's face, Dumbledore explained that the bear had been tamed and taught to dance by bear-leaders. It had always been a special spectacle at fairs since the medieval ages.
"That bear," Aberforth added, "is the property of the owner of that inn over there." he pointed at a pub. "Tancuyutsiy Medved."
"What?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison.
"The Dancing Bear. That's the name of the pub. Special place." he winked at them.
"I can imagine how special it is." Harry grinned, remembering The Leaky Cauldron. "And now? Where do we go?"
"Well, first I'm going to go there." Aberforth pointed at a bookshop called Bestseller. "It's the only bookshop in whole Russia where you can get wizard books in English. Care to join, Hermione? I heard you loved books."
"Maybe later, Aberforth. First I need to buy presents for the family."
"All right, then let's meet here in three hours, shall we?"
Harry and Hermione nodded and continued their way along the street.
"What exactly are we looking for, Herm?" he asked. "I have no idea what to buy for Ginny, Sirius, Ron and the others. We even should buy something for Viktor, shouldn't we?"
" Of course we should. I just don't know, what! Well, at least I know what to buy Molly."
"What?"
"Something typically Russian: a samovar. I guess this is the right shop to find it." she stopped before an iron-vessel shop.
"I don't really feel like going in there." Harry said. "I'd rather look at that arts-products shop over there."
"Okay. See ya later." said Hermione and entered the iron-vessel shop.
Harry headed for the shop that sold all kinds of products of popular art. There were plates with painted bears on them, balalaikas, fur-caps with the text I love St. Petersburg embroidered in them and a whole range of shelves full of funny-looking little figures that had only a head and a torso, but no arms and legs.
"What are these figures?" Harry asked a pretty female shop assistant.
"They are called matroshka dolls, sir." the young woman smiled at him. "Excellent present for children and childish adults."
*Childish adults?* Harry grinned. *Arthur Weasley, maybe?*
"And how do people play with them?" he asked.
"Easily. They take them apart and put them back together. I'll show." the woman took a five inches tall figure (that strangely resembled Professor Trelawney) from the shelf and pulled its head. The figure's upper and lower part divided to reveal a smaller figure inside it. The woman took the small figure and pulled it apart, too. There was a third figure in it, and a fourth in the third one, etc. There were seven little dolls in each other.
"Brilliant! My daughter will love this!" Harry said. "And my father-in-law, too. He simply loves to take things apart then put them back together."
"How many would you like to have, then?" the shop assistant asked.
"Two, please. And could you suggest me something for a mother-in-law?"
"Well, what about a nice, embroidered table-cloth?"
Not much later Harry stopped by a shop-window that was full of bottles, a board hanging above them: Quality Wizard Vodka. *Hagrid would love to try it. And Sirius, too. Not to mention Fred and George. But they'll get their balalaikas as well.* He was wondering, though, what the difference could be between simple vodka and wizard vodka.
In the shop the assistant – a man with a rather copper nose – explained that Wizard Vodka could even more easily knock you out, because it also contained something called Veela essence. Harry didn't want to know what the heck Veela essence was.
Ten minutes later he exited the shop, carrying several bottles of Wizard Vodka.
He had bought presents for almost everyone, with the exception of Ron, Hermione and Ginny.
For Hermione he decided to buy a book in that shop Aberforth showed.
As for Ron, he had no idea what to buy. He stopped before a sweets shop, but shook his head and continued his way – Russian chocolate was famous for being inedible for people who were used to Mars bars, or in wizards' case, Honeydukes sweets.
Buying a nice present for Ginny was also a problem. Harry wanted to surprise her with something special. But what?
Harry started to realise that his packages were getting heavy. He put a quick spell on them to make them feather-light and headed for the end of the street. The Muggle part of St. Petersburg must have been right behind the bakery, because he heard noises of car horns. The very last shop next to the bakery was a jeweller's shop.
"Aha!" Harry's face lit up.
As he entered, he saw a wizened little man standing behind the counter, deeply immersed in examining something with a magnifying glass. He didn't even notice the customer.
Harry cleared his throat and stepped closer.
The little man looked up and somewhat unwillingly put down the magnifier and the little red, glittering gem he had been examining.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"Yes, actually you can. I'm looking for something pretty for my wife."
"Ah, your wife." the old man smiled benignly. "Is she a witch?" Harry nodded. "Do you love her very much?"
"More than life itself." Harry replied. "She's my everything."
"So she deserves something special…" the old man mused. "Special, special… she's someone you wouldn't want to lose, huh?"
"No way." Harry shook his head. "Once I almost lost her. You can't imagine what I felt then."
"I guess I can." the old man smiled. "And you know, I happen to have something that would be just perfect for your wife. Something pretty and useful at once. Something to assure her security."
"What?" Harry's eyes widened.
"This gem here." the old man showed him the same piece of red gem he had been admiring when Harry entered.
"Is it magical? How does it work? What do you mean that it can assure her security?"
"This is a very new invention, young man." the shopkeeper replied. "This is called gemma vis vitalis. It works in pair with another of the same kind of gem. These two gems have to be set into your wedding rings and they'll show you whether the other is all right. These gems are fuelled by the magic in your bodies and while the gem in your ring glows in a steady way it means that your wife is all right. Her ring shows her the same about you. If something happens to either of you, the other will know it, because the gems notify you."
"Notify? How?" Harry asked, intrigued.
"If either of you gets into trouble, the gems in the other's ring start to flicker, showing the peril."
"But… even if it does, it's not much help if I don't know where she is at the moment." Harry remarked. He was determined not to buy any trash.
"Oh, but you will know." the old man replied. "For there is an incantation that creates a bind between your rings and through that bind you'll know where she is. That bind will be operated by the magic in both of you. Thus you'll find her wherever she is and she'll find you wherever you are."
"What guarantee do I get that this thing works?" Harry was still sceptic.
"Hm, well, well, well, tricky customer, huh?" the shopkeeper grinned. "Let's give a demonstration, then." he reached into a glass case and pulled out a ring, taking one of the gems into his hand. He tapped the gem with his wand and whispered: "Compono gemma et anulus." The gem suddenly merged into the ring. He took another ring from the glass case and repeated the spell, merging the other gem into the other ring.
"There. Here's this one, put it on." Harry did so, and the shopkeeper also put on the ring he was holding. "And now, the other incantation…" the old man tapped both rings with his wand, whispering: "Coniungo per vis magica." Then he walked up to the door and put a CLOSED sign on it. "And now I'm going to disapparate. Try and find me with the help of the ring."
He vanished with a pop.
"But how?" Harry shouted after him, but too late. "Damn him, how will I find him now?" he looked at his ring, then closed his eyes and concentrated on the other person connected to his ring. He felt a funny tug, as though something had pulled him, holding his ring finger. When he opened his eyes, he was sitting next to the old man in a rather noisy bar.
"Welcome to The Dancing Bear." the old man cackled, seeing the astonishment on the young man's face. "Worked, didn't it?"
"How much is it?" Harry asked.
* * * * *
The last place Harry visited was the Bestseller bookshop at the other end of the street. He was surprised to see that there were more books then in Flourish and Blotts. Behind a high bookshelf he found Aberforth, who was flipping over the pages of one highly familiar book: Year with a Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart.
"This books sucks." Harry stated. "Believe me, it was a set book in my second year. Lockhart never did those things he wrote about. Never even met a yeti."
"Still, this is the only book I could found about yetis." Dumbledore replied. "I'm going to buy it."
Harry shrugged and moved on to find something for Hermione and Ron. Soon he caught a glimpse of a book called The Snitches of Eastwick. Right next to it stood a book called My Quidditch Career by Viktor Krum. "Never knew he wrote a book." Harry took it off the shelf and opened it. It was some kind of a biography, but with lot of pieces of technical advice to Quidditch players. *Ron will love this. He's always been such a great admirer of Krum.*
For Hermione he bought a book called Pride and Polyjuice, a witch's guide to exotic potions.
Before leaving the shop, Harry saw Dumbledore inspecting books on a shelf with only Muggle literature.
After having finished shopping, Harry, Aberforth and Hermione headed for the exit/entrance to Rasputin's fur-coat shop.
"Hello." Harry told the owner of the shop, walking past him to the door.
"Good afternoon." Hermione added with a brilliant smile and rushed after Harry.
"Have a nice day." Aberforth grinned at the resigned guy and left the shop.
"I'm going to Moscow." the owner sighed. "To the High Court. And get the Three Sisters imprisoned… or should I see a psychiatrist, instead?"
* * * * *
The sun had already set when they arrived back at the Durmstrang castle.
"Oh, what a day!" Hermione sighed contentedly. "Except from that mad-reindeer-ride, I thoroughly enjoyed it. But now I'm extremely tired."
"Me too." Harry stifled a yawn. "Coming upstairs, Herms?"
"Soon. I need to talk to professor McGonagall first." she looked at Minerva, who was talking to Olympe Maxime at the door of the great hall.
"Good night, then." Harry said. "Are you coming up, Aberforth?"
"Er, no." the old man replied, his eyes fixed on Minerva. "Gotta talk to someone."
Harry walked upstairs and dumped all his purchases onto his bed, then started sorting them and stuffing them into the wardrobe.
Having packed everything away, he was just about to start to undress when he heard voices from the corridor.
"Don't you understand that I'm not interested?" McGonagall's voice shrieked.
"But Minerva… er, Ms. McGonagall… I only wanted to apologise for being so rude to you the other day."
"Rude? That's a grave understatement, Mr. Dumbledore!" she spat.
"Tsk, tsk, you are overreacting things, Ms. McGonagall! You shouldn't get so nervous… it might be dangerous at your age!"
"At my age???" she shouted. "Don't start that again! You're at least forty years older than me, your crazy old scoundrel!"
"Scoundrel?" Aberforth laughed. "I love the sound of that. I think you like me because I'm a scoundrel."
"Where do you get your delusions from?" Minerva snapped. "What makes you think I like you? No, Mr. Dumbledore, on the contrary. I like your brother, because he is a real gentleman, but definitely not you!"
"Oh, my brother!" Aberforth snapped. "My oh-so-perfect, oh-so-wonderful brother! Go and tell him how much you adore him!
"Adore him? I don't adore him, I just think that he's a gentleman and a wonderful headmaster!" she replied.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Ms McGonagall!" Aberforth growled and banged his door shut.
"Wow… that was some row." Harry whispered to himself. "But… why are they always quarrelling?" strangely he felt wide awake now, all his drowsiness had disappeared. Now he was curious. What was going on between these two people? And what had taken place between Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore decades ago?
After he heard Minerva's door slam shut, either, he exited his room with the intention of finding Hermione. Maybe she knew more than he did.
He had walked two floors down when he heard something. Something sounding like someone crying. Whoever they were, they needed to be consoled, and Harry was determined to help if he could.
He turned left into the corridor on the second floor. It was very dark, only three or four candles were flickering on the walls. There was a figure sitting in a doorframe, slightly trembling.
"Hey, are you all right?" Harry asked, not knowing whom he was talking to.
"No." the form replied with a familiar female voice.
"Mileta?"
The girl looked up and wiped her tears away. "Harry? What are you doing here?"
"And what are you doing here?" he asked back.
"Crying. Don't you see?" she replied defiantly.
"And why are you crying?" he sat down next to her.
"Because no one likes me." she sniffed.
"Here." Harry handed her a tissue.
"Thanks." she blew her nose.
"Why do you think that no one likes you?"
"Because it's really so." she shrugged. "My classmates hate me because I'm the sister of the headmaster and they think he's favouring me."
"And is it true?"
"No." she shook her head. "But people still think he does. They are sure Viktor had tampered with the Goblet so that it'd choose me."
"Oh, I know how you feel. When I got selected by the Goblet – as fourth champion – everyone hated me, even my best friend, Ron. They thought I had cheated to get into the Tournament. But after the first task they realised that I was wrongfully accused and started treating me normally again. Maybe that's what your friends also need: time. You just fight for Durmstrang as well as you can, and believe me, they'll start respecting and liking you again."
"I wish you were right." she sighed. "If only they'd stop hating me for being Viktor's sister… they don't even know how much Viktor isn't favouring me."
"What do you mean?"
"He… he even forgot my birthday. Today's my birthday and my brother totally forgot it!" she burst into tears again.
"Hey, it's okay, it's okay." he put an arm around her, patting her head gently. "He's very busy, you know. Having to arrange the tournament and everything…"
"But it's still no excuse for forgetting about my seventeenth birthday!" she snapped.
"No, it's really no excuse." Harry agreed. "Has no one else remembered it? Your parents, maybe?"
"Don't know. They haven't sent me any presents, so I guess they forgot it, too." a last huge teardrop coursed down her cheek.
"I know how it feels when people forget your birthday. My Muggle relatives used to forget it every year. Those two or three times I remembered them of it, they gave me stinky socks and a clothes-hook as a present… I really know how you feel… if only I could help you… make up for this terrible day."
"But you can!" she suddenly grasped his hand with tear-soaked, but delighted face. "Do you really want to cheer me up?"
"Well, of course."
"Then come!" she pulled him with herself, down the stairs, turn right, turn left, then finally she opened a door and tossed him in.
"Where are we?" Harry asked her.
"My room." she replied.
"Your…? Oh, no!" he started to protest. "I'm not supposed to…"
"Hey, it's not what you think." she blushed, leading him to the fireplace. "We are going to use floo-powder."
"And where are we going?" he started to dislike the situation.
"To a place where we can celebrate my birthday!" she said delightedly, taking a pinch of floo-powder into her hand. "The Dancing Bear!" she vanished into the flames.
"That bar? Again?" Harry groaned, but took a bit of floo-powder himself. He felt responsible for the girl's activities. He couldn't turn back and let her down now. "The Dancing Bear!"
* * * * *
"Herm-own-ninny?" Krum called after Hermione as she headed for the staircase, carrying the packages she'd bought in the town.
"Yes?" she doubled back.
"Could we talk? Please…" he shot her a Bambi-like glance.
"I'm tired, Viktor. I've been shopping all day, and my journey to St. Petersburg hasn't been too pleasant, either."
"It was Aberforth, right?" he chuckled. "His mad reindeers."
Her eyes widened. "What? He made you drive the sled, either?"
"Yep. And we almost crashed with a Muggle plane."
"But… but you managed to control the animals at the end, didn't you?"
"What? Me? Controlling those beasts?" he groaned. "No. Aberforth took the reins back in the last moment and so we survived."
"Strange." Hermione whispered.
"What's strange?" Krum asked, intrigued.
"Let's talk about it later, shall we?"
"Why not now? We could go someplace…"
"Where?"
"Um, I thought we could talk by a bottle of wine or something… I know a nice, cosy place in St. Petersburg. I'm sure you'd like it."
"Well, actually I've just come back from there, but… okay." Hermione replied. "I go up and change. I need to fresh up myself a bit…"
"I'll wait for you here." Viktor replied with a smile.
"Oh, and Viktor…" she turned back from the stairs.
"Yes?"
"Isn't that cosy place called The Dancing Bear, by any chance?"
A/N: before you ask how could Mileta have an own room (especially my friend, X_Tow_Naga who always goes into details): maybe she's a prefect or something. I decided that she needed an own room. (Oh, to X_Tow_Naga again: don't ask me about the floo-powder route to the bar, it'll be explained in chapter 26, I guess. Anyway, I guess it's forbidden for students to 'escape' from the school through the floo-network, but in TGSoHH they also did it, so why wouldn't Durmstrang students do the same?)
You might be wondering what those Latin expressions meant, so here are the explanation:
gemma vis vitalis = gem of life power
compono gemma et anulus = to combine the gem and the ring
coniungo per vis magica = to create a bind through magic power
I don't speak Latin, I only took these things from a dictionary, so they might not be proper, sorry.
I apologise to the Russians for saying that their chocolate was inedible, but it's the truth that if you are used to Milka then you won't find it delicious. Forgive me, please!
Stay tuned for chapter 12, a very funny chapter! (the one I enjoyed writing the most of all – you'll see, why :)