Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter. I actually do, he's under my staircase at this very moment. (For those unaware that's what is known as a joke.)
Chapter 8: Now's Your Chance To Be A
Albania, 12th June 1992
The wandering, broken soul of the once corporeal Dark Lord was wafting through the ominous atmosphere given off by the mountainous Albanian forests. It was searching for yet another snake's living body to leech off of, as the previous snake drained of its life energy only lasted the Dark Lord a few weeks.
He had sent word to one of his most loyal followers to carry out one of his demands, which was to send a precious artefact of his past endeavours into Hogwarts to cause havoc and possibly kill some pesky, worthless mudbloods.
It was Lucius Malfoy that rather reluctantly apparated to the predetermined clearing on the slopes of Maja Jezercë.
"You sent for me, Master?" he said, face to face with the seemingly ordinary snake with piercingly sinister red eyes.
The ghastly sounding ethereal hissing of his Master graced his ears. "Luciusssss… I have a very important quessst for you…"
Lucius's discomfort was clear from the beginning, but he felt every last hair in his body stand to goosebumps. "What is it, my Lord?"
"The diary you possess belonging to me…you must mussst passss it on to a ssstudent at Hogwartsss…" he hissed. "It mussst be a pureblood…to ensure that Sssalazar's pet won't kill itsss ssslave..."
"What are you talking about, m-my Lord?" Lucius almost whispered.
"The Chamber of Sssecretsss will be opened again Luciusss…" he revealed. "Salazar's Basilisk will be under my command and it will cleanssse Hogwartsss of pesssky mudbloodsss…"
Drawing out those hisses, Lucius knew that the emphasised words left no room for error, or denying his master.
"I will carry out your bidding, my Lord," he answered. "How should I plant the diary on a student?'
"Use your houssse elf…or bring it to Diagon Alley…" Voldemort replied eagerly. "It must be done sssufficiently…sssuch that it gives me a corporeal form once again…"
"Yes, my Lord," Lucius accepted, secret filled with pride at his Master's trust in him to carry out such a task. "Is there anything else you requite of me?"
"I require you perform a sssearch for my wand…it might be needed sssooner than many of my other ssservants believe…"
Lucius looked horrified. He had no idea where his Master could have possibly left his wand, or if it was even still functionally in tact. "Can I ask where you could've possibly possessed it last, m-my Lord?"
"I believe I tasssked Bellatrix with retrieving it should sssomething go horribly wrong…."
"B-but many of your followers are in Azkaban, m-my Lord," winced Lucius.
"I'm aware of this fact Luciusss…but I don't doubt their eagerness to complete the tasssks I asked of them before they ended up being captured…"
"Like what, m-my Lord?" he asked hesitantly.
If the Dark Lord had a face, it would've been smiling in a sick and twisted form of pleasure. "You already know about the torture of the Longbottomsss…well I have been informed of two servants who you alongside many others assume are dead…"
"Who, my Lord?" Lucius asked eagerly.
"I will inform you when I feel no threat from the Ministry…because after the most recent escape from Azkaban, there's heightened security everywhere…"
Lucius knew there was an ulterior motive to his Master keeping the names of said servants from him, and he tried his hardest to hide the disappointment he felt at his master not trusting him enough.
But a question did spring to mind in that moment. "My Lord, is Sirius Black a servant of yours?"
"That filthy blood-traitor is no ssservant of mine…he doesn't dessserve to lick the ground I traverse…"
"So the Ministry has been fed false information?"
"It seemsss as though that is the case…however you must not tell a sssoul, for the anonymity of one of my most valued servants is completely dependant on that information staying out if reach of the general public…"
"You have my word, my Lord," promised Lucius, bowing without hesitation. "I also bring the news that the Potter twins started Hogwarts last summer, if the news hasn't been broken to you already."
This was news to him. "Ah, yesss…the child who thwarted me by sheer dumb luck…I assume he was sssorted into Gryffindor?"
"The one who bested you was sorted into Gryffindor and his brother was sorted into Slytherin, my Lord."
To say he was shocked was much more than just an understatement, however, as immediately as it came, the shock vanished and was replaced with euphoria.
"That isss incredible news you have brought me Luciusss…I trussst you to carry out this tasssk, as it will bring me within the realm of possibility of being reincarnated once again…"
"I won't let you down, my Lord," he said, bowing again.
"Do not disappoint me, Lucius…"
Lucius apparated away, with many questions on his mind.
Why did he sound gleeful when I mentioned the Potter twins? Why is he keeping information from his Death Eaters?
Although, on that thought, Lucius could make the case that it made sense that not everyone of his servants knew of his secrets.
But the first question he spoke in his head and its possible answer was on the tip of his tongue for a considerable amount of time afterward.
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June was a peculiar month. The impending trip to France hadn't affected them until the week before they left. It was a much different summer than Harry could ever have imagined, especially if someone told him the previous summer that his first-year summer would be this eventful.
In the entire month, Harry didn't see either of his friends only six days out of the thirty days of June, and his parents finally saw him come out of his shell because the almost endless time he could spend with his friends.
Their main activities throughout the month included breezing through their summer homework within the first week, practicing duelling and some advanced fourth-, fifth-, and sixth-year spells, such as the Summoning Charm, the Disarming Charm, Avenseguim, a charm that possesses an object that can track someone or something down, the Exploding Charm and the Slow-Down Jinx among others. They couldn't quite master the Patronus Charm, none of them receiving results, but what they were able to master quite quickly was Occlumency. Legilimency could wait, as completely mastering Occlumency was a priority for them.
Another 'activity' of sorts was watching England crash out of Euro '92 with an embarrassing group stage performance, finishing last. Harry never liked supporting England, completely as a result of his family taking Charlie to some of England's games at Italia '90, the 1990 World Cup held in Italy, while he remained at home, as they'd figured he wasn't much of a football fanatic. Instead he chose to support Ireland, who were also at the 1990 World Cup, shocking everyone by reaching the quarter finals, before being beaten by hosts Italy. He had to laugh at his family, however, when England were torn apart by the ever-so-efficient penalty machines, also known as West Germany in the semi finals. Charlie and thrown a temper tantrum because his parents couldn't use magic to confund the referee to have England's last penalty taker to have it taken again.
While he mainly rotated between his and his friends' houses, he set foot in the Burrow a grand total of one singular time before heading off to France, only because his brother thought it would be a good idea to steal his broom so that Ronand could play against him on equal brooms. The exchange between Harry and the Weasley parents was interesting to say the least.
It would be wise to think that Harry would be used to Floo travel, since his summer consisted of going back and forth between Daphne's, Tracey's and his Manor's Floo network, but that day he landed outside the hearth in a heap.
"Ah, Charlie, what do you need, dearie?" the Weasley matriarch called out before the dust cleared, only to surprise her with the presence of Harry.
He looked on in mock outrage. "I know I'm not the most handsome, but I'm not that ugly."
Fred, George and Ginevra, who occupied the kitchen alongside Molly and Arthur couldn't suppress their amusement and snorted.
Molly spluttered before Arthur assured her it was just a joke, composing herself and admonishing her children for laughing at someone else's expense.
"I'm looking for my broom that my brother stole, as far as I'm aware he was here with it last, and didn't bring it back," he calmly explained.
"But why would he need your broom?" Fred asked.
"When he's got one of his own?" added George.
"Because he wanted a 'fair fight' between him and your brother," he answered.
Fred snickered while George had to bite down on his lip from laughing.
"He is…how should I put it-" began George.
"Pathetic," Fred put it bluntly, as George burst out laughing.
Harry smiled. "Which one of them is?"
"Oi, you've just insulted our Gryffindor Golden Boy seeker," retorted Fred.
"He's the best Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen!" continued George.
"Merlin above, you'd swear he was the second coming of Jesus Christ," laughed Harry, as he shrugged his shoulders. "Gryffindors never change."
Only Molly and Arthur had an idea who Jesus Christ was, so their laughter was the only such laughter audiable, as Fred and George looked at him as if he'd insulted someone's sainted mother.
"You dare insult Charlie Potter, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord?" began Fred, outraged.
Harry snorted. "He's my brother, I can say what I want."
"You're just mad he beat you to the snitch," defended Ginevra fiercely. Harry could see the crush she had on his brother, clear as day, so he decided to have a bit of fun.
"You have a horrendous choice of lad to have a crush on," observed Harry offhandedly, as she blushed to the roots of her hair.
"No. I. Do. NOT!" she screamed as she ran from the room, Fred and George guffawed and Arthur chuckled before Molly cleared her throat.
"Pipe down, you lot," she commanded. "Charlie was on a Nimbus, Harry was on a Cleansweep, he did well to keep up with the better broom. Now, go get Harry his broom, and not another word."
Harry was completely taken aback by Molly's defence of him. It was completely unexpected, considering they looked visibly uncomfortable around the Greengrass and Davis family at Christmas time, even at the end of the school year when they were dropped by the train back to London and Harry was having fun with Astoria and Alastair on the platform, his parents were chatting to their parents like old acquaintances, and Arthur and Molly were, again, uncomfortably standing to the side waiting for their own children.
Perhaps they'd seen the example he set as regards his mannerisms and his outstanding in-class performances, he thought to himself. Maybe their attitude towards Slytherin is slowly changing.
"Ron is using it," Fred winced, fearing the ensuing rage from Molly Weasley.
"It's fine," Harry interrupted them. "I'll find them."
"No, you will not, one of the three of you will end up hurt," Molly insisted.
"Then I'll go with him," said Arthur.
Harry stepped outside while they were deciding who would go with him anyways, disliking how he was the subject of the debate heavily. He could already see the two culprits in question flying around and making great use of Harry's broom.
He had to speak up to get them to hear him.
"Would you mind giving that broom back to its rightful owner?"
They looked at him as if he had six heads and laughed. "Who says I have to?"
He was desperately trying to keep his cool. "Me, and your parents, because it's my broom?"
"No one cares," retorted Ron, flying away.
He had to fight tooth and nail to not hex the pillock into oblivion. The nerve, the ignorance, the selfish-
"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, GET DOWN HERE IMMEDIATELY!"
He cowered on his broom, as did the onlookers, comprising of the twins, Percival, Arthur and Ginerva. He slowly descended to face the wrath of his mother.
"Who, on Merlin's green Earth, do you think you are stealing someone's broom like that?" she admonished, with a quiver in her voice as she attempted to keep her voice level.
"Charlie said it was fine," he responded immediately. Harry covered a snort, fully expecting Charlie to go into outrageous denial mode.
"He's my brother, I can take what I want from him," he admitted without hesitation.
"Well, I never," sighed Molly. There were some mixed reactions among the spectators, with Molly and Arthur sporting the only sensible opinions of the altercation.
"I'll have to talk with your parents about stealing from your brother, Charlie, but you, Ronald Weasley, I expected you to know better than to steal," she concluded.
"But I was gonna give it back," started Ronald, before Harry spat out the air in his mouth, thrusting his head back in laughter.
"My left arsecheek were you going to give it back to me," he said. "I'd have to go rooting through your entire room before you'd even think to give it back to me."
"Language," Molly admonished. "Just give him the broom, Ronald."
With an annoyed look, he almost threw the broom at Harry, who, deciding to show off one of his proudest achievements that summer, jumped on his broom and cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself making himself almost invisible, and shot up into the sky, with the full intent of flying the hundred or so miles back to Potter Manor, just in time for dinner. He still found himself barely able to suppress uncontrollable laughter as each if their faces held shocked and some awed expressions.
"That's a O.W.L. level spell, how've you managed to pull that off?" asked a gobsmacked Percival, but he already flew far enough away where it would be acceptable for him to not give an answer back, and took off into the scorcher that the day was turning out to be.
Even though he knew the level of difficulty surrounding the spell, he knew he had to fly low to the ground anyways, lest he break the Statute of Secrecy.
He knew the heading to fly at such that he would arrive at the city of Exeter from Ottery St. Catchpole, then the heading to travel the hour or so flight to Hereford, the closest city, and from there he could easily fly the ten miles back to the Manor. He'd flown this route twice in the five years the Potters and Weasleys had their close friendship, which both, coincidentally, occurred during a hot day during summertime. He was accompanied by his entire family, and the trip had taken around two hours.
But he knew he could push his broom to the extremes, and his broom seemed to not only know this, but embrace it, so it only took him an hour and ten minutes before he finally touched down outside the broomshed of Potter Manor, since he had no distractions other than the countryside itself.
He'd flown the route twice, but he couldn't appreciate the incredible West Country scenery for what it was. He flew through Dartmoor before using Exeter as a way point, and flew across the flat-calm Bristol Channel. He was glad that his Disillusionment didn't wear off across the channel or he was in deep trouble, being so exposed. He also passed over the cities of Cardiff and Newport in Eastern Wales, before taking a slight detour to fly over the breathtaking Wye Valley.
He needed to fly this route with Daphne and Tracey, since to get from Potter Manor to either of their houses, the route was much shorter, and required flying over cities and populated areas, rather than the sparse, open countryside that the West Country offered. It would still be interesting, of course, but not as much. Unfortunately, he'd have to wait until the day after to tell his friends about his adventure, as they were away with their parents visiting their own sets of grandparents.
He touched down, put his broom away and opened the back door to be greeted by an interesting scene.
"There he is now," said Arthur, as he entered the dining room from the kitchen.
"Harry!" exclaimed Lily. "Where in God's name have you been?"
"I flew from the Burrow back here on my broom," he replied without hesitation.
James couldn't believe his ears. "You mean to tell us that you flew one hundred and twenty miles in an hour and ten minutes?"
He nodded his head. He could see that the Weasleys had just dropped Charlie back. What he didn't know was that Molly had told them that he took off from their back garden and they hadn't seen him since.
"You understand you could've been seen by muggles, right?" said Lily, fearful that the Statute might be in jeopardy.
Harry held up one finger and triumphantly cast another Disillusionment Charm over himself, as good as, if not better than the previous ones he cast.
Lily and James's jaws hit the proverbial floor as they watched their son cast an O.W.L. level charm flawlessly.
"Sweet mother of Merlin, most Aurors can't cast that charm to perfection," gasped James.
"He cast it in front of us before he took off aswell, we couldn't believe it," agreed Arthur.
"When did you learn this?" asked Lily, who was amazed at her son's magical ability.
"A few weeks ago," he admitted. "Daphne and Tracey can also cast it, but not as well."
Every jaw in the room dropped, bar Harry's of course.
"I didn't want to have to use it at the Burrow, but the temptation to show Charlie why he should never steal my things again was too strong."
He even speaks like a mature wizard, thought Arthur. Incredible.
"So why were you at the Burrow in the first place?" asked Lily, intrigued.
"Because Charlus stole my broom and proceeded to give it to Ronald so they could have a fair fight on brooms," he spat.
"I was about to tell you both about it, but it seems as if my son thought he was entitled to steal Harry's broom, and Charlie backed him up when we confronted them about it," explained Molly.
It was now Lily's turn to be incensed. "I'll have to have words with Charlie, won't I?" asked James.
"No, Dad, let him deal with Mum's temper," Harry chimed in.
Lily spluttered while Arthur chuckled and James howled with laughter.
"Fair enough," admitted Lily. "I hope I didn't pass that down to either of you two."
"Trust me, you've passed down your temper to Charlie," confirmed Harry.
"And the hair," added James, chuckling.
"I got the brains, though," bantered Harry.
Lily buried her face in her hands as she blushed to her roots, while James kept laughing at the subtle dig at his younger son, with Harry joining in.
Lily, however embarrassing her situation may have been, was relieved in more ways than one. "At least the three of you know how to protect yourselves in Slytherin house."
"We haven't really had to do much, I think Malfoy and his posse know to stay clear of us," laughed Harry. "I've had to stop him and Charlie fighting multiple times."
James's eyebrows vanished into his hairline. "From what Charlie has been telling us, Malfoy's been the one starting it every time."
Harry shook his head. "They've both had their fair share of starting fights."
James thought to himself before composing himself.
"I think we need to teach you Occlumency," announced James.
"Try me," challenged Harry, almost laughing at the look of surprise on his parents' faces.
"How have you-" started James.
"Both of my best friends are from Noble Slytherin families, one being in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. You both should know this," he proudly proclaimed.
They were astounded at the level of education he was receiving from his best friends, but they knew that he was hiding quite a bit from them, so they chose the correct option and remained silent.
Then James used Legilimency without warning on Harry's mind, who noticed the attack at the perfect time and fortified his defences, keeping James out for almost a full minute before James forced himself to stop. Lily watched on, as Molly and Arthur stood rooted to the spot.
"Lily, his shields are incredible," he panted. "Like, almost flawless."
Harry glared at him for attacking without warning. "Watch it, old man, the next time you do that to me be sure you start running."
They had to laugh at his outburst. He was as out of breath as James was, but was secretly ecstatic he managed to keep his father at bay, especially considering the only other person of that calibre to test his shields was the Greengrass matriarch, and she couldn't fault any of Harry and his friends' shields.
Seeing Harry turn to go in the general direction of is room, James followed his son with the intent of having a quick chat with him about how magically advanced he was and how he became that way.
"Harry?" he called out before he entered his room. "I want to speak with you."
It surprised the young boy, so he immediately went on guard. "What about?"
"Well, I feel like I haven't talked to you one on one for a very long time," he started. "And, as an Auror, I'm interested in how in the name of Merlin you've mastered so many aspects of magic years before you could possibly even dream of it."
"I suppose I just used the time I had wisely, since my brother had all your attention."
James looked down sadly. "We could hazard a guess at that, and it's something we will forever feel shameful for."
Harry spoke calmly, desperately trying to control his emotions. "Why didn't you both think to check in on me from time to time?"
"I'd be lying if I said there was another reason than your brother, and the never-ending frenzy we call his life thus far."
"And now you understand?"
"Yeah, and we're fully prepared to deal with the consequences, since I feel like it was our faults you ended up in Slytherin, because it's no secret you didn't have any concrete friendship before you met Daphne and Tracey on the train, and yes, I know it's all well and good saying we wish we didn't do it, but it'll never sway us from the fact that that's what we did. We neglected you, and we'll probably forever be in your debt."
"Well, just know I don't blame either of you."
This caught James off guard entirely. "You what? Why?"
"I'll forever blame Charlie, because he loves all that fame and attention, he doesn't care if I'm pushed to the side, it might sound selfish of me to say, but I'm so happy that I'm going on holidays abroad to a place where he can't be anywhere near me."
Lily, who was outside the door listening to the exchange, audibly winced, and Harry heard it, but had enough ranting, and said no more.
"I can't say it'll be okay as if it'll fix everything that's happened in your life, but we'll do out best, Harry," James soothed him, taking him into a hug.
Harry almost gave into his emotions, but still embraced his father like as if he had never done it before, as his mother came in and joined them.
"Let's just hope Voldemort doesn't come back anytime soon," said Harry.
Meanwhile, many moons away, in another parallel universe, multiple uneasy snickers and nervous chuckles could be heard after what Harry said was spoken.
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"That was incredibly anticlimactic," ranted Harry, as he lay splayed out on the floor while his friends laughed. "In the muggle world, you have this exciting feeling of going to an airport to get an aeroplane for a few hours and you hype yourself up for your holiday and then you look out the window as you're flying over the exotic looking land and you're all happy and everything, meanwhile here I am failing to stand after going through a ruddy fireplace."
"Oh, will you stop complaining and just look around you," snapped Daphne, barely holding herself together enough to act stern.
"What a nice ceiling this house has," he cheekily answered back, earning chuckles and giggles.
"Be happy you're not standing up or you'd get a backhand," growled Daphne.
"If you could reach me anyways," he countered, as he swiftly picked himself up before Daphne could hit him.
Tracey, Astoria and Alastair were howling with laughter. "You're like an old married couple bickering."
"She wishes," bantered Harry again.
"Potter, when I get my hands on you…" Daphne grumbled.
Their banter subsided as they began to show Harry around the house.
"You'll have to explain to us how muggles go on holidays," Alastair encouraged him, with nods of approval coming from Micheál and Roderick. "It sounds different."
"I mean, we've only done it the muggle way once, and it was a bit of a chore, but it made getting to our place so much more enjoyable, or at least that's the way we saw it anyways."
They suddenly stopped by the double doors to what he assumed was a balcony or patio, which was covered by curtains.
"You ready to see the view we have?" asked Daphne, as she pulled back the curtains.
If his jaw had the physical ability to break through the floor, it certainly would've reached the centre of the Earth.
This looked nothing next nor near what he expected the French coast to look like.
The beaming afternoon
sun lit up the entire coast for their personal viewing, with the specks of light bouncing off the miniscule waves of the calm Mediterranean Sea making the already clear blue water ever so inviting.
The villa itself was situated about a half an hour walk from the city centre of Nice, on the headland of Le Sèmaphore, looking westward was the magnificent city of Nice, and looking eastwards were the spectacular cliffside hills that marked the end of the French alps, as they sloped down into the sea, with the view of Monaco and its sprawling metropolis combining to make for a view that would be a globetrotter's wet dream.
Closer to home, Harry looked down towards the immediate coastline to see a plethora of rocky coves and beaches. Despite not swimming in about a year, Harry desperately wanted to get back in the water, especially today as the sun was splitting the rocks, but that could wait.
"Oh, heavens above, we've actually broken him," said Tracey. "Say something, Harry."
"Jesus H. Christ," was all he could muster, using the American phrase his father picked up while there.
"We've certainly broken him," said Micheál. "I see you like the place anyway."
"How do I even begin to start describing this to someone," he sighed. It was like paradise. "I knew I made the right choice making friends with noble Slytherin famies."
Ironically the only people who took offence to this were Daphne and Tracey. "Is that all we're good for? Money and reputation?"
"You've finally figured it out!" he jabbed right back, as he ran outside into the sprawling garden before they could do anymore than glare at him.
Interestingly enough, the outside of the house screamed muggle; it completely juxtaposed their Manor in England. It was painted white, yellow in some sections and had the signature red barrelled roof tiles you see everywhere in southern and eastern Europe. With its three floors, it was a reasonably large holiday home, with two bedrooms on the top floor with ensuites, three on the second floor with a living room accompanying them, and the kitchen, dining room and another living room. Surprisingly, there were multiple muggle appliances on display, but they were there because the previous owners had been muggles, and the caretakers the Greengrass family paid to keep the villa in top shape upgraded the appliances over the years.
He made a mental note to thank the Micheál and Freya endlessly for the hospitality.
"You and Alastair are sharing that room," Daphne declared, pointing at the other bedroom on the first floor.
"Finally, someone to share a room with and not be lonely while I listen to you three being incredibly loud and annoying," beamed Alastair.
"Now you understand what it's like to be around them in Hogwarts," joked Harry.
Daphne was quick to the draw and quickly cast knockback jinxes at both boys, who, lucky and ironically, landed on their beds with their suitcases beside them.
They burst out laughing immediately. "You're very easy to rile up, Daphie," said Alastair, purposely using the old nickname Alastair gave her.
"Daphie?" gasped Harry, trying to catch his breath from laughing so much.
"Alastair used to call her Daphie all the time, and then Malfoy heard it and tried to chat her up using it last year," giggled Tracey. "As you can tell, she's not very fond of it."
Harry nearly gagged for effect, but couldn't risk it as he may have had to vomit from laughing so much.
"Isn't she adorable when she's angry?" continued Tracey.
Harry wheezed. "Then what nickname can we use for you?"
"NONE!" she yelled, but was calming down enough to see the funny side of the conversation and started joining in the laughter.
She then slammed the door in their faces, as they both looked at eachother and promptly burst into giggles yet again, as they proceeded to set themselves up in their room.
They planned to have a lazy first day, as they needed to unpack, where the most they'd probably do was go to the nearby beach and have the Greengrass and Davies house elves cook for them. The walk to the beach was a downhill breeze, they could've run the whole way if they wanted to.
"Sweet Merlin, I forgot how good it is to be here," sighed Daphne, as she lay between her sister and Tracey on towels on the nearby beach, with Harry and Alastair to the right of Tracey.
The adults had gone for a swim, so they decided to keep watch over their bags by their sunbeds. They were tempted to take over the sunbeds and leave the adults to lie on towels in the sand like they were relegated to doing, but a completely harmless glare from Freya and Celine dared them to try, as they nervously giggled at being caught.
"Oh yeah, Harry, explain to us why you think the muggle way of going on holidays is better than our way," piped up Tracey from beside him.
And he ended up explaining about travel agencies, airports, aeroplanes, flying in an aeroplane, the excitement of landing at the destination airport, travelling by taxi to a hotel and what muggles usually do on sun holidays.
"How does an aeroplane fly then? Does it not have any magic keeping it up?" asked Astoria.
"Have you seen an aeroplane before?"
"Yeah, there's an airport close to our house," she nodded.
"So, you're telling me I've been at your house for most of this summer and somehow I haven't seen or heard any aeroplanes flying nearby?"
"It might be to do with their house wards," piped up Tracey, to which Daphne nodded.
"So, all of you have seen aeroplanes before?" he asked again, receiving nods. "The engines under the wings is what drives the plane and keeps it in the sky."
In their magical minds, cogs were turning, trying to figure out how they would keep a huge tube of aluminium.
"They fly at about thirty-five thousand feet above us at around five hundred and fifty miles per hour," he announced.
"Without magic?" asked Daphne, incredulous.
He shook his head. "Muggles are amazing," declared Tracey. "I don't care what anyone else says about them."
"I'm jealous you got to grow up sort of in the muggle world because of your mum," sighed Alastair. "You grew up with the Nintendo and everything."
"Of course that's what you'd be jealous of," sighed Tracey, as they all giggled in response.
"And you aren't?" he immediately retorted.
"Shut it," she snapped as they laughed again and slipped into a comfortable silence.
They noticed the adults returning and a thought popped into Harry's mind.
"Oi, what if we asked them to do Bubblehead Charms on us?" he conferred with them. They'd been under strict instruction by their parents that they couldn't use magic inside the villa until the wards had been topped up, and they couldn't use magic outside the house at all. Daphne had somehow gotten away with using the knockback jinx on them, and for the life of any of them they couldn't explain why.
"That way we could dive down and wouldn't need to have to come back up for an hour," gushed Tracey, eyes lighting up like it was Christmas.
"There's muggles everywhere though," said Daphne. "They'd wonder why we've gone down but haven't come back up."
"Muggles can be thick as thieves sometimes," argued Harry. "My dad told me a story about when he was in America doing Auror work a few years ago, some lad tried to jump him because he was getting into his motorcycle to drive back to the hotel they set him up in, and he used a decently powerful knockback jinx as defence, and the lad's lackeys thought my dad had punched him."
"Maybe that's just the Americans though," said Daphne. "They seem very naïve."
"Muggles are naïve in general, that's why if we had goggles or a mask and snorkel, we could probably get away with having the Bubblehead charm."
The adults overheard the conversation, incidentally enough. "Well, make sure that if we do decide to charm you lot, that you don't bump into any muggles out there, there aren't many on this beach but it'll still get us into trouble with the French ministry, and the last time that happened was when Daphne did some accidental magic and rebuilt a sandcastle that some muggles trampled on."
"Can we please just try it?" begged Astoria, using the puppy dog eyes look that Daphne could never replicate.
"Alright, just don't get yourselves noticed or in trouble, who knows what's in the water," relented Micheál, attempting to scare them.
Harry and Alastair looked at eachother with grins of excitement, especially since they could possibly see some magical sea creatures they wouldn't have seen in England.
They didn't take the fact that the Bubblehead was completely invisible in air, so they were a small bit confused at first, but upon entering the water, it was such a strange feeling, they could barely begin to describe it.
"It's better than scuba diving," he said as he emerged after testing out his bubble in front of them all.
"You gonna tell us what that is?" asked Tracey, confused.
"Muggle thing, you have a tube with a mouth piece connected to a bottle of breathing air, and it lets you stay underwater for about forty minutes," he explained. "We tried it when we went on holidays in Spain one time, but my dad cheated the system and used a charm that stopped his and my mum's tanks from running out of air."
They laughed at his story, and proceeded to follow him into the sea, managing to stay under the water quite easily, despite having an air bubble around their faces and constantly having air in their lungs.
While Harry, Daphne and Tracey were decently well built for twelve-year-olds because of Quidditch training sessions, Alastair was the typical skinny-fat type of build, and Astoria was similar enough since they only started trying their own hands at Quidditch when they learned about how their older siblings had already made the Slytherin first team. Were they jealous? Most definitely, but they knew they had time to catch up.
The water was a lovely twenty-four degrees, the visibility was ideal, and they had a blast exploring what the French Mediterranean had to offer. They stayed together rather than split up and get lost and decided qon staying within about a half a mile from the coast, as they didn't want to risk being further out than that, lest they get list or they get pulled by a current and have to resort to magic to get back on dry land.
They saw many different creatures while swimming along the sea floor, from shoals of fish casually swimming around minding their own business, huge hordes of different types of crabs, lobsters and crayfish, flatfish trying to camouflage themselves, they even managed to spot Mackled Malaclaws, and another magical fish that looked very similar to a Plimpy, but it was like a sea creature subspecies. Astoria and Alastair, while swimming slightly away from the group could've sworn they saw French Merpeople, but there was no reason they'd want to stray so close to the shoreline, so they didn't feel the need to seek after them.
Their hour came to a close, coincidentally enough, as they were swimming back along the small reef close to the beach. Having not been able to communicate with eachother all that well underwater, as soon as they resurfaced, they burst into chatter immediately.
"Keep it down, you don't want muggles listening, do ye?" Celine admonished them.
Daphne blushed. "Sorry, it was just so much fun, I couldn't keep it in."
"We must do the same some time," laughed Roderick, who was seemingly having a contest with Micheál to see who had the better dad bod, despite both looking like they'd stepped off the cover of Vogue.
"How about right now?" wagered Freya. "We can make the kids look after our towels this time."
"Child labour," sighed Tracey, trying to keep her voice low. It didn't have the desired effect and the adults got a right kick out of it as they made their way to the shoreline.
Content to just lie down in the sun after using up much of their energy swimming around the sea floor, Harry thought of something that he'd been meaning to discuss with his friends.
"What are your opinions on animagi?" he asked them, as they turned to face him.
Every face except Tracey's showed only confusion, but Tracey's face lit up like the sun. "It's one of my dreams when I become a better witch, I love the idea of having an animal to transform into."
It was then recognition formed on all of their faces. "I didn't even know that was possible," said Daphne. "I wonder what animal I'd be."
"It's meant to be incredibly difficult to do," sighed Tracey.
Harry stopped her. "My parents say otherwise."
They gaped at him.
"That's why I've kept meaning to bring it up to you both as a proposition," he explained. "I've overheard my brother saying that by his fifth year, he wants to have fully finished his animagus transformation."
"How is that possible?" asked Astoria. "If it's meant to be accomplished by auror level wizards, how would ye be able to even begin to try?"
"Because my dad became one in his fifth year."
"You're shitting me," exclaimed Tracey.
"Not at all, himself, Uncle Remus, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, all became animagi in fifth or sixth year, according to dad," he explained.
"You mean to tell me that your father was friends with the man who supposedly nearly got him and your mum killed?" asked Astoria, in complete disbelief.
"I don't know if Daphne and Tracey here told either of you this, but yes, and we reckon that the whole situation is strange, since he didn't get a trial," explained Harry. "But enough about that, I want us all to have achieved animagus transformation by our own fourth or fifth years."
"You think it's possible?" pleaded Tracey, hope gleaming in her eyes.
"One hundred percent," he affirmed.
She whooped and squealed before she had to be hushed by Daphne, lest she attract unwanted attention.
They then took this moment to sit back and relax on their towels. Harry couldn't help but notice that puberty had really started to hit him hard, as he noticed the height gap between himself and his two friends increasing by the month, and with his voice deepening slightly, he was really beginning to take the appearance of a young teenager, despite being a month away from twelve years old. He'd noticed the dark hairs on his arms and legs and in certain other areas, and realised he was packing on more muscle due to playing Quidditch than he ever remembered.
Of course, he'd had the talk, given to him by his parents in the presence of Charlie, and was told about the two different types of puberty that happen to both boys and girls and what happens to both, yet he couldn't help but notice how he didn't react the same way Charlie did when they mentioned the other details. He was about as immature as an adult skipping a queue, laughing and poking fun at the serious nature of the talk.
But while he was told how he would change and he could see it physically happen, the same couldn't be said at all for how girls change. Sure, he was friends with Daphne and Tracey, but fortunately, he had the maturity to realise that for all that it's worth, he couldn't just go up and ask them about it. However, he had noticed certain developments in their bosom and hip areas, with both of them also gaining some muscle and toning from Quidditch, which was all more noticeable than it was previously, thanks to the fact that they both wore what were very modest swimwear. It didn't stop him staring on occasion, as he was sure they were doing the exact same thing to him. He didn't blame them, and it felt good to have attention directed at him rather than his ginger-haired arsewipe of a brother.
He just hoped that Charlie had the same self control that he did and didn't turn into the wizarding world equivalent of a womaniser, because with his influence, status and his personality traits, he so easily could. He seemed to be under the influence that muscle would just come to him without having to work for it, which seemed to be in line with many other aspects of his life, even if, through the influence of James and Lily, that was on the verge of changing altogether.
Harry would have to pray for the girl that ends up with him, because realistically she'd be in for a tough relationship, especially if the person has such a high view of him because of the whole Boy-Who-Lived stigma around him, only for that vision to get shattered around them as he fought with or possibly cheated on them. It reminded him of a certain ginger incoming first year with the surname of Weasley who was harbouring a massive crush on Charlie, but he felt like Charlie was, hilariously enough, undoing this crush, especially considering neither him or Ronald really treated her like they treated Granger, especially when it came to their group knowledge or even to Quidditch. Even still he couldn't cross Granger off the list of girls Charlie would try to snag, but he could never be sure.
He mentally shrugged his shoulders and put his brother to the back of his mind for the moment, wanting to enjoy the holiday without any mention or thought of his brother.
Dinner was a raucous affair, ironically enough. It was a huge breath of fresh air from some other dinners he'd been forced to attend. There was no tension, no blatantly showing off, no nonsense, just chatter, banter and lots of food. It was ironic, they had agreed on a relaxed night in the house, since they'd just arrived, but it ended up being anything but.
If a "relaxed" dinner was like this, what on earth would a dinner in a restaurant be like? he thought to himself.
He didn't care, he just knew it was going to be a blast.
The adults left the villa after dinner to pick up a few bits from the nearby shops, leaving the rest on their own in the house. They took this time by themselves to go outside to the medium sized pool and make as much racket as possible, without needing to worry about being told off. The joys of being children who don't have to worry about life's great struggles.
"My brother would genuinely be so jealous of me if he knew of this place," he sighed, as he lay back against the side of the Jacuzzi. "I'm so happy I didn't tell him I was coming here for two weeks."
"You didn't tell him!?" Daphne almost yelled.
"Not a chance," he confirmed, as they gaped at his audacity. "Why would I?"
They both shrugged as if to say fair enough. "What do you reckon he's doing right now?" asked Daphne out of curiosity.
Harry laughed. "Probably something very questionable with Ronald, I reckon."
Tracey snorted. "Is that right?"
"Of course, it would be you to twist my words," he retorted. "But if they were it wouldn't surprise me."
The three of them laughed at the implication.
"Him, Mum and Dad are probably at the Weasleys' again," he said as Tracey groaned. "I know, how boring."
Daphne also groaned. "They seem like the rowdiest bunch people I've ever seen."
"To be fair, Bill and Charlie were always nice to me, even if that's changes since I became Slytherin," he remembered, labouring the second half of his statement for effect, which made his friends laugh.
Then he groaned. "Then there's the most stuck-up-his-own-arse student in Hogwarts history."
Daphne snickered. "Ah yes, Percival," she spat, remembering the confrontations they had with him throughout first year because of Charlus.
"And you already know what the rest are like," he laughed.
They nodded. "And then there's your brother, who at this point basically is a Weasley."
"He would be, but he isn't good with girls," he explained.
Tracey's eyes went wide. "So, I was right!"
He shrugged. "Nah, I'm like ninety-nine percent sure that he hasn't realised that girls exist yet," added Harry.
"Oh, and you have?" jabbed Daphne.
"My two best friends are girls; do you mind explaining to me otherwise?" he fired back.
"I don't know, I'm certainly one but short-hair-and-flat-chest McGee over there," said Daphne, leaving the sentence unfinished as she prepared to jump from the jacuzzi and jump back into the pool to avoid Tracey's swinging arm.
Harry saw the anger on Tracey's face. "Oh, I wouldn't take that if I were you."
"Oh, I'll get her back for that one, trust me," she seethed, but ended up seeing the funny side of it. "She'll be eating those words come the day I outgrow her."
Harry snickered. "I'm surprised how comfortable you are talking about this."
She shrugged as Daphne rejoined them rather cautiously. "We both know you enough to the point where we don't care, because we know you won't take advantage of us," she explained. "We've also seen you staring at us, it doesn't take more than two brain cells to figure that out."
He blushed before muttering out an apology. "Sorry, I was a sheltered child."
She laughed at him. "We know that, but that doesn't give you the right to stare at us all holiday."
He looked outraged. "You dare assume that of me? I'm an incredibly respectful wizard, and don't think I'm ignoring you both staring at me the same way."
They both blushed in turn. "Haha!" he exclaimed, which got the attention of Astoria and Alastair, who were still in the pool. "I knew ye were but I didn't say anything because attention like that is something I never get."
They suddenly looked apologetic. "You don't need to be sorry for anything, I'm fine," he said, truly meaning it for the first and potentially last time in his life.
"Was your brother really that much of an attention hog?" Tracey asked tentatively.
He wanted to be smart and raise his eyebrow as if to say 'what do you think?' but he couldn't so he just nodded.
"Well, if you want attention in Hogwarts, put on muscle," declared Daphne.
He shrugged. "I'm fine with just lying low though."
"Good answer," she laughed. "We'd rather lie low until maybe fifth year, then start trying to get a group of Slytherins who don't support the Dark Lord to take over the house."
"Can our house alliance help with that?" asked Harry.
Tracey nodded. "That would be great, actually, since our parents are trying to get rid of the pureblood supremacist influence in the Ministry, they could give our parents a hand in that."
"I think they're already plotting something," grinned Harry. "I heard them talking about doing something soon while I was at home yesterday."
"Did they go into detail?" asked Daphne, eagerly.
"No, but it sounded small enough to where the main purebloods wouldn't notice, but over time it would snowball into something massive."
Their faces lit up immediately. Christmas had come early.
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Days on the beach and by the pool and dinners at night in various restaurants were what followed.
They all enjoyed it immensely, but no one more so than Harry, who made it his duty to corner the Greengrass parents to thank them immensely for their hospitality.
He did so on the third day, before they were due to go into the city for dinner. He could only corner the Greengrass patriarch, but it would do.
"You don't have to thank us," was Micheál's response. "We're doing this for you and our children, since all of you seem to be inseparable, which brings us joy, and for your parents who did something for us that we'll never forget."
"What was it?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
"You'll find out soon enough, we hope," he answered. "We don't want to say anything just yet in case it goes belly-up."
"I heard my parents talking about something to do with the Ministry, has it anything to do with that?" he pushed ever so slightly.
"Yes, it is, how much of that did you hear?" he conceded.
"Only that they were planning to do something in the Ministry," Harry answered truthfully.
He breathed a sigh of relief. "That's to do with it, absolutely, but I won't say anything more for now."
Harry relaxed. "You don't have to, anyways."
"Speaking of Daphne and Tracey, they've already been warned by their own mothers, since they've figured out that you lot are much more mature for your ages, and I've been warned by them to say this to you as well," he chuckled, a tad uneasily.
Harry understood immediately, and blushed hard. "Oh, trust me, they've already said they wouldn't do anything like that to me and I've made a promise to them that I'm not going to do anything like that to them either."
"Phew," he said, wiping away an imaginary bead of sweat. "That made it ten times easier for me, because Freya and Celine were concerned with how close ye lot were and how mature you seemed to be for your age that something was bound to happen."
"Excuse me?" he retorted, completely harmlessly. "They better not have confused me for my Gryffindor twin brother."
Micheál, being Irish, sensed the banter immediately, and joined in. "I don't know, your father, if I remember correctly, was after your mother by his second or third year."
"I'm gonna point out that he was an only child," said Harry.
"Well, that is true, and also, I've been told by my daughter that they gave your brother much more attention than you growing up," he said, changing his tone completely.
He nodded as Freya joined them, wondering what was holding Micheál up.
"That's probably what turned you into the unbelievable young man you are, Harry," he said, his compliment causing Harry to blush slightly as he looked to Freya for confirmation.
She nodded. "I agree, and you definitely deserve your turn at the front of people's minds, like your brother has been."
"I don't know how that'll ever happen, but thank you," he said, as he left the room to find his friends.
"Keep what I told you to yourself for now, you'll know when the time comes to tell Daphne and Tracey about it."
He nodded and left quickly.
Dinner that night was a very interesting affair, they'd gone to a large enough strictly French cuisine restaurant, just to be told by the adults that they'd be visiting Monaco the day after.
The only reason Harry knew Monaco existed was because of the Formula 1 Monaco Grand Prix, a high-speed car race around the tight corners and incredibly aesthetic state of Monaco, which he noticed while reading through the papers to refresh his muggle knowledge. He wasn't into F1 as much as football, but he was interested in how cars could move that fast. He was also interested in how Ayrton Senna, who was champion of three of the previous four seasons, seemed to be on a downward spiral, with Nigel Mansel, and the meteoric rise of Michael Schumacher hindering his progress.
He knew Monaco as the holiday destination for the wealthy, where the casinos attract all the richest to turn a fortune into a windfall or into a tidal wave of failure and debt, where the marina was packed to the brim with yachts, ferries and ocean cruisers, and the style of buildings put many other of the richest world countries to shame.
Funnily enough, Monaco was only twice the distance the city of Nice was to the Greengrass holiday residence, so they could've made the three and a half hour walk if they so pleased, but decided on magical transport, namely the Floo, which was what they'd been doing to get to the city centre of Nice.
The magical communal area in Nice, which they hadn't spent much time in other than to Floo in and out of, while much smaller than Diagon Alley, was no match to the impressive Monegasque magical commune, Boulevard de Roi, hidden between the Monegasque alleyways and densely cluttered buildings. It was a case of many, many charms that kept it both hidden from muggles and spacious enough to accommodate a rather large variety of shops.
That was their first stop, having a look at what each shop had to offer. They had a whale of a time, tearing from shop to shop, with many different offerings ranging exotic-looking familiars, food and plants from France, beyond and way beyond, a Quidditch shop, sporting the newly-released Nimbus 2001 to combat the skyrocketing sales of the SuperStar, what seemed to be the French version of Zonko's, and, surprisingly, a shop that sold muggle clothing, newspapers, muggle sweets and foodstuffs.
It was charming in its own ways.
"You think we could come back here next month instead of Diagon Alley?" joked Harry.
"If you think this place is nice, wait until you see Casablanca," said Freya, helping the two girls pack some purchases from the muggle clothes shop into a bag.
The girls-in-question's eyes lit up. "I can't wait to go back there," Tracey said, dreamily.
Harry looked on in confusion. "It's in Morocco on the northwest African coast," Celine explained. "If you drew a straight line between England and the Canary Islands, you'd pass it by closely enough."
Immediately images of sun, winding and narrow streets, throngs of people and a bustling wizarding market filled his head, not unlike the scene before him in the Boulevard, but just that little bit more closer-to-the-equator looking.
"Let's live in the moment, shall we?" he said, as he watched the two girls nearly trip over a step. He almost burst out laughing, with glares from Daphne and Tracey preventing him from doing so.
"How much do you want to bet on Malfoy's father using bribery of those to get on the Slytherin team?" wagered Daphne.
Harry laughed. "You really think I'd be stupid enough to put any money on that?"
As if on cue, Daphne, Tracey, Astoria and Alastair answered immediately. "Yes," they all said, before breaking out into giggles as Harry scolded them.
"What did you two buy then?" he asked them.
"None of your business," scolded Daphne. Harry knew what they'd bought, but knew he had to take the piss.
"Oh," he said as he looked at Alastair. "Women's things," he said, before miming vomiting as Alastair laughed outright.
"Let's go buy some men's things," said Alastair, pulling Harry by the arm back to the muggle clothes shop.
"What do you mean men's things?" he asked Alastair, once out of earshot.
"Well, they're selling Monaco football jerseys over here," he said. "I've always wanted to get one since we were here when they won the French Ligue 1 four years ago."
Harry's jersey collection was ever-growing. If he followed the English Quidditch leagues he'd have more Quidditch team jerseys, but he wasn't fussed.
"What do you reckon would happen if we sent one of these to Malfoy?" asked Harry, sensing an opportunity to mess with the troublemaker.
"If we ever do something like that, you'll have to be there to see his reaction," chirped Alastair, his excitement and amusement audible in his voice. "Get him something that reeks of muggle."
They conspired further as they bought the jerseys, one each, and rejoined the group.
"Oh no," gasped Tracey as they began walking again. "The Malfoys are here."
Sure enough, about a hundred yards in front of them were the three of them, engaging in polite conversation with their own parents.
"Ugh, I hate that child, look at him trying to find us," Daphne gagged.
"Quick, get your arses in here," said Harry, suddenly, pulling them into the nearest shop, which seemed to be an apothecary.
"What was that for?" protested Daphne.
Harry shot her a withering look. "Because I'm here."
When they looked confused, he continued explaining.
"What do you think he'd be thinking if him or his father saw me on holidays here with you lot?" he rushed out.
"That you were on holidays with your friends?"
"No, the alliance we made and the under-the-radar our families have been working through would come into jeopardy."
The light came on immediately. They simultaneously covered their gaping mouths with their hands, before muttering apologies.
"Malfoy is the one who has much of the power inside Slytherin house because of how his father kissed the ground the Dark Lord walked on every five minutes, we know this," he continued. "So, why give him a reason to come at us?"
"You're right, but I hate giving hi the satisfaction of having something over us," complained Daphne.
"He hasn't got anything over us now," he pointed out. "And when he does, I feel like we can get our own back."
Their facial expressions changed in an instant. "Dead right, we will."
"Also, if you think I pulled you both in here because I don't want Malfoy seeing that I'm friends with you both, I would never," he quickly explained. "What sort of a friend would I be then?"
"A bloody awful one, for sure," answered Daphne, as she briefly gave him a hug, followed by Tracey doing the same.
Meanwhile Alastair and Astoria watched on, looked at eachother, shrugged at the exact same time, before bursting out into giggles immediately after.
"What are you laughing at?" demanded Daphne, as Tracey snickered.
But before an answer could be given, they'd wandered off to find their parents.
"Let's hope they say that you both were off buying more girl's stuff so Malfoy doesn't come looking for us," sighed Harry.
Tracey grinned. "You trying to tell us something, Harry?"
"Yes, yes I am," he also grinned. "I'm gonna buy some girls' hygiene products and swap them with Malfoy's own stuff some time this year."
Pleasantly surprised he hadn't mentioned buying them them for other reasons, they promptly agreed. He was either incredibly dense, or just didn't care enough.
"Imagine he comes down to dinner, trying to impress Pansy Parkinson like he's been doing all year, and he smells like another girl," mused Tracey.
"Or if he goes to use his disgusting face moisturiser and ends up using foundation instead," conspired Daphne. "It'll be all over his hands and his face."
They both burst into giggles, as Harry, watching on, could only sigh at their antics. He had absolutely no idea what foundation was, but he'd give them the benefit of the doubt.
Luckily, it seemed as though they had shaken off the Malfoys, smoothly avoiding an invitation to their own holiday mansion in the French Alps by explaining they had to entertain Micheál and Freya's parents, who seemed to have had a run in at some point with Lucius, according to Daphne anyways.
Then they set foot into the stunning Monegasque streets. They planned to go find somewhere to eat near the marina, then browse the muggle shops, before going for a swim at the Plage du Lavrotto.
This was exactly the type of sun holiday Harry had signed up for.
They passed by the fabulous building that was the Monte Carlo Casino, when a thought occurred to Harry. "Why don't wizards and witches everywhere would flock to arcades and make so much money in them? You never see or hear anything about it."
"Every Ministry worldwide knows this, and makes absolutely certain that no magic is ever used on any premises that could involve gambling money," explained Roderick. "Anyone caught using any sort of magic at any sporting events, any Casino, they've even locked down muggle sports events now, anyone who uses magic to help a team or an individual win anything, even if it's not related to money and gambling, are fined massive sums of money and can sometimes spend time in Azkaban."
They gaped at him, as he and the other adults couldn't contain laughter. "If you couldn't tell, Harry, I'm well advised in wizarding laws and all those technical shenanigans."
"So, there has to be other things like that that have to be stopped, right?" Harry asked again.
"Certainly, such as the use of unnecessary magic in muggle crowded areas, especially if muggles notice and the Statute of Secrecy is broken," he answered, amusement present on his features. "There's similar spells in Hogwarts that do the same thing, but will only activate when it senses a fight or a duel, which is why you usually find professors near the scene of every altercation."
"I see why people get so invested in law and politics and all that," he said. "Because I know, from listening to my parents speak to their friends for years that there's bribery everywhere in the Ministry, especially with Fudge."
"That man is a disgrace to wizarding Britain," scoffed Celine. "All of us have experience with that man; the influence families like the Malfoys, the Rowles, the Parkinsons, the Gibbons, the Notts, you name an ex-Death Eater family, chances are they have a chunk of Fudge in their pockets."
"She speaks for all of us here, though I happened to receive a letter from Daphne before the last Slytherin match explaining how your former Quidditch teammates have been plotting something to change how Slytherin house works," said Micheál. "This is what the whole country needs."
"The only way that can possibly happen is if the Dark Lord returns and is vanquished for good," continued Roderick. "Then, unless a new threat emerges as powerful as him, there will be no reason for them to uphold their blatantly discriminatory practices."
Harry listened eagerly, before curiosity got the better of him. "When will he come back, though?"
"It's truly hard to tell, no one is sure, but we must all be ready when it happens, especially you, given your current position," explained Micheál.
Harry knew what this meant. His brother being the one to defeat Voldemort at age one, and him being in Slytherin were never going to mix well.
The adults had walked on ahead to browse for a place to eat lunch, while Astoria and Alastair were having a heated debate about who got to shower first when they get back to the villa.
"Oh yeah, Harry, did Malfoy ever catch you playing muggle music on your radio in the boys' dorms?" asked Daphne.
"Twice, the first time I quickly switched to the WWN but the second time I just wasn't bothered changing it," laughed Harry.
"How did he react?" asked Tracey, encouraging him to say more.
"He wouldn't have known if the news section of BBC Radio 2 wasn't playing, because it had just cut from the news to a song, I can't remember which one," he sighed, but chuckled. "It was like as if I had punched him in the face when he walked into the dorm and heard it playing muggle music."
"Muggle music is banging though, he should really get his head out of his arse and realise that muggle blood isn't the antichrist," scowled Tracey.
"It's Malfoy though, what do you expect of him?" Daphne replied. "Oh, Daddy, those mudbloods hurt me, do something!"
Her imitation was so good, they burst in laughter, alongside the adults, who had just tuned into the conversation after finding a suitable place to eat lunch.
None of them noticed the magical aura that a man in sunglasses with wavy black long hair and an exotic-looking pair of shorts and t-shirt was giving off as they passed him by, and his wince as he realised what was in front of him.
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Quick Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long, I've been losing motivation because my work has become so busy and I've managed to recover some of the friends I've lost over the past few months and the amount of effort I'm putting into my life is tiring. But I do plan to keep this going, even if the wait is a month or so long.
Also, for those looking for smut, politely fuck off. They're still 12 years old. I won't even think about anything like that until at the very least 5th or 6th year, and I already have pairings in mind for Harry and others.
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