Alduin felt just about ready to scream.
Why, he asked once again, can't things happen one at a time?
He'd been getting better ever since Abdullah started helping him in earnest, but the news that Lucius was planning something at Hogwarts this year put him back on the verge of a nervous collapse, and it cost him almost inhuman amounts of effort not to return to drink and limit himself to one or two glasses of port when he found the situation really unbearable.
And it had something to do with Riddle? Was the man crazy?
Alduin was quite confident that Lucius had no interest at all in his Dark Lord returning. So why, why would he plot something to do with him? Was he being pressured? If so, by whom? Had Riddle found another victim to possess, and was he in touch with Lucius? But if that was the case, Harry would hardly be safe, and despite everything, Alduin still thought that part was true. So what was going on?
And of course, because life just couldn't give him things by doses, it was also time for the formal dinner to which the Princes were invited. It needed to be done, it was high time for it, in fact, but that didn't mean Alduin was any happier about it.
He did his best not to let his eyes wander to Eliza as soon as she entered, but it seemed they had a will of their own. Well, he thought, best to cut to the chase. Sometimes the Gryffindor approach had its merits.
He welcomed them all and spoke a few words to each of them, but as soon as politely acceptable, he stepped to the side with her.
"How are you?" He asked, doing his best to sound casual, and, to his astonishment, even succeeding to a degree.
"Well enough," she replied in that quiet, measured voice of hers. "Busy. We've started Augustus' schooling this year, and sometimes it's a little hard."
Alduin smiled. "Don't tell me," he said, "I had moments of despair with Harry, and he was ten."
"Well, but then I suppose he's much livelier than Augustus. He's a calm child, really, but...I don't know. Perhaps I'm asking too much of him. Aurelius," her breath caught on the name, "certainly seems to think so."
"And your mother-in-law?"
"Her, too, yes. And my sisters-in-law as well." She gave a small laugh. "Jonathan, on the other hand, thinks I should push him harder.
Alduin's face darkened.
"I'm sorry about what my brother did," she said, even more quietly.
"It's all right – I know you had nothing to do with it."
"Yes, but still. It was inconsiderate of him to...make you face me unexpectedly."
Alduin shook his head. "That's not the point – or not the main one, anyway. It was a week before the wedding. What do you think it was like for Alexandra? What impression did it give?"
She paled. "You're right," she said. "I was so caught in how it made me feel, and how you must have felt, that I never even thought of her." She closed her eyes. "That sounds truly terrible of me."
Alduin tried to be reassuring. "Don't worry about it too much – Alexandra can take a lot."
"Unlike me, you mean?"
"Eliza, don't," Alduin said, and his voice grew harder.
"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "You're right, of course, if something, you're the injured party here."
"I'm not an injured party," he replied, frustrated. "You had no way of knowing I'd ever wake up again. It was simply a tragedy all around, but it's in the past and...could we please regard it that way?"
She gave him a penetrating look. He knew this sort of look from her intimately – it always made him feel like she could read his very soul. "Can you?" She asked.
"That's why you're here," he replied. "Yes, of course, I wasn't able to two years ago. No time at all had passed from my point of view, let me remind you. But it's different now, and...I want us to be able to talk civilly to each other."
She gave a sad sigh. "I'll do my best."
He only nodded to her, and left. He felt Aurelius' eyes on him for quite some time after that, and decided that a talk with that man would be in order as well. But not tonight. There was only so much he could handle in one evening.
-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-
They were sitting at the breakfast table one morning in mid-August when Alduin brought up another of his concerns. "You've been doing good in your training, improving, even," he said to Harry, "but I'm worried about the time during the school year. We don't want you to lose all the progress. So I was thinking...what would you say if I arranged for you to train with Maurice Shacklebolt? Let's say once a week, just to keep your hand in."
Harry looked up from where he was making faces at Wynn and trying to entice him to sit, and shrugged. He was a little uncomfortable with the idea, but he could see Alduin's point. Still… "I don't really know Maurice," he said.
"Neither do I, to be honest, but he's a Shacklebolt, so he's bound to be decent at duelling – neither Nathan nor Kingsley would have it any other way – and I assume he's trustworthy. Whoever Dumbledore hires to teach Defence this year, I doubt they will be so, otherwise I'd ask them."
Harry snorted. Yes, he certainly preferred to have classes with Maurice Shacklebolt than with another Quirrell.
At that point, the conversation was interrupted by the post appearing at the end of the table, with Harry's Hogwarts letter on top. Harry took it and opened it curiously to see what new books he'd be required to buy, and stared. "Who is Gilderoy Lockhart?" He asked.
"A celebrity," Alduin replied from his own correspondence. "Why?"
"Because we have like seven books from him on the list," Harry said, still staring.
"What?" Alduin put down his letters and reached for Harry's, and Alexandra was now focused on them as well.
"Seven books from Lockhart?" She asked, shocked. "Why would anyone do that? Why would Dumbledore allow that?"
"Maybe he has a contract with Lockhart to boost his sales," Alduin muttered, staring at the list in his turn. "This is absurd. The books have very little educational value, at least those I have read."
"Absurd or not, we'll have to get them," Alexandra said, though she as well sounded dissatisfied.
"But why are we supposed to buy books by a celebrity?" Harry asked.
"Lockhart made his name by performing feats of heroism and then writing about it," she explained. "Though many people think he doesn't really care about the people he helps as much as the image and the aura it grants him. Nevertheless, I suppose he is skilled enough, insufferable as he might be. But to use his books as teaching material..."
They discussed the matter for a while longer, but then gathered their things and headed to Diagon Alley to meet with the other Gryffindors. It had been a standing agreement since the day they left Hogwarts that they would meet the very day the letters came.
Once in Flourish and Blotts and looking at the books, however, Harry was horrified once again when he saw Dean and Sophie both check the price tags and exchange worried looks. "They're so expensive!" He whispered to Alduin, stepping aside with him. "How will everyone be able to afford them?"
Alduin pursed his lips. "Just one more thing to ask Dumbledore about," he said.
-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-
The day of the International Quidditch Tournament final finally came, and Harry and Alduin got ready to depart. Alexandra was staying at home with Wynn, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion she was more relieved than sorry. Even Alduin didn't look quite excited enough.
It was to be played in Germany, so Alduin side-Apparated Harry to Diagon Alley to take an international Portkey from there. Harry was looking around the Portkey office curiously. He'd never travelled this way before, and while Alduin had, of course, described the principle to him, he was still curious and a little nervous.
Soon after they arrived, the Malfoys appeared as well, or rather, Mr. Malfoy and Draco. They greeted each other and Alduin said with a smile: "So, I take it Narcissa, like Alexandra, opted to stay at home?"
Mr. Malfoy nodded. "I'm afraid she has no appreciation for the noble sport," he said. "I think she might actually be visiting with Alexandra instead. Draco told me the Shacklebolts are coming as well?"
"Oh, yes – all of them, as far as I know."
And sure enough, almost that very moment, all five members of the family entered the office, greeting everyone – and with them, Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain, with his parents.
"Good afternoon," Mr. Malfoy said with a smile. "Christopher and Marianne and the girls aren't coming?"
If Harry remembered correctly, those were Millicent's parents. "No," Marcus' mother replied. "They're going to the match, but they remembered too late and couldn't get places on this portkey, so they travelled there yesterday already."
"Ah well, we do have a new Quiddtich enthusiast among us this year, so perhaps that's why," Mr. Malfoy said with a benevolent smile towards Harry. It made him feel a little uncomfortable.
"Who are you supporting?" Harry asked Draco and Kiara, as Marcus and Maurice took themselves aside to talk.
"The French, of course," Draco replied. "I mean, it's where we come from, originally."
Harry grinned. "That's exactly what Alduin said."
"Well, Dad said we should support the Polish." Kiara grinned as well. "Uncle Kingsley added it was because we weren't as stuck up as the rest of you, so the French didn't suit us."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Your uncle wouldn't recognize class if it smacked him in the face," he said.
"I beg to differ! He's super classy. The Goblins had Wronski, after all."
"Whatever. Do you know who'll the Flints root for?"
"Well I think Dad convinced Mum and Mum convinced Uncle Jeremy, but I don't know about Aunt Beatrice or Marcus."
"It's good to be split in the family," Harry said with a laugh, "at least, either way, someone is happy."
"Or you can have a huge argument about it," Kiara said cynically. "Mum and Maurice already had one before we went here, because Maurice was upset they didn't get the tickets for his girlfriend as well, and Mum said he can only expect that sort of automatic inclusion once he's engaged to her, and he asked whether he should go and propose right now...it was a disaster."
"Come on," Mrs. Shacklebolt called in that moment. "The Portkey will activate son, we have to get ready."
The Portkey turned out to be a long wooden stick. They all took a hold of it, and after waiting for a moment and feeling exceedingly stupid, Harry felt a pull behind his navel and suddenly he was surrounded by a whirlwind of colour. He felt Alduin behind him and Kiara in the front, and when his head was staring to spin from it all, he finally felt solid ground beneath his feet and, moments later, he was on the ground.
Alduin had warned him about the landing, but it still caught him by surprise. Kiara was laughing at him, and Mr. Malfoy said in his superior tone: "I suppose that happens when one travels for the first time," and exchanged a strange look with Marcus' mother.
Harry got up and followed the others. They were on a meadow, and when he looked around, he could see a sea of tents everywhere. "Tea?" Alduin asked the others, and as there were nods all around, he headed towards the largest and tallest of the tents not too far away.
It was still a little early for tea by Harry's count, only about four, but he supposed that, as the match started at six, it would be too late to head to the tearoom at five.
The tent proved to be much bigger on the inside, and to contain a café and a restaurant both. It took the staff a while to arrange a table big enough for all of them to sit, but once they did, their got their tea and scones in almost no time.
Harry was talking with Draco and Kiara again when Draco was pulled aside by Marcus and Mr. Malfoy, and they discussed something very secretly to the side. Harry frowned at them. After Dobby's warning, he distrusted anything secret Mr. Malfoy did.
"Do you know if Dobby found a place among your elves?" He asked Kiara. The Travers elves had, indeed, refused to work with him, but had at least deigned to find him and extend the Shacklebolt offer.
"Oh yeah," Kiara said with a grin. "It was quite the talk of the house. Because, you see, he asked if he could get paid. From what I know, our butler wanted to send him away straight out when he heard this, but the housekeeper convinced him to ask Dad first, and of course Dad agreed, and in fact from what he said, gave the butler quite a talking to for wanting to send Dobby away. So yeah, Dad employed him."
Harry was frowning. "What do you mean, wanted to get paid? Don't house-elves normally get paid?"
"Not exactly," Kiara replied. "I mean they get food and the uniforms and a comfortable place to live, but they don't normally get money, no."
"That...sounds like it kinda sucks."
Kiara shrugged. "I don't think you can look at it as if they were witches and wizards. I mean, they see things differently, you know?"
"Well, Dobby didn't."
Kiara looked around and lowered her voice. "Yeah, well, Dobby served the Malfoys," she whispered. "I've heard they have a pretty bad reputation. Them and the Blacks – actually, the Blacks, I think, have been accused of mistreatment by the Ministry, and I mean, you are normally allowed to do pretty much anything to your house-elves without the Ministry caring, so..."
How did no one realize that Sirius Black, coming from that family, couldn't possibly be normal, Harry wondered.
Draco returned to them, and was absolutely beaming.
"What is it?" Harry asked him curiously.
"I can't tell you," Draco replied, "it's a secret, but it's awesome."
Harry's worry grew. He'd have to talk to Alduin again, once they got home.
Milicent with her sister and parents joined them at this point, making their gathering even bigger, and Harry tried to put his mind at ease for now to be able to enjoy the evening.
The match was incredibly impressive. They had very good seats, close to the top of the stadium, and Alduin bought omniculars for both of them, allowing them to watch the action closely. The French team, Quiberon Quafflepunchers, was playing in a rather incredible manner. It didn't seem very practical to Harry, but they did score a lot, and were, in fact, tied with Grodzisk Goblins when the Polish Seeker scored a Snitch.
"And it seems Wronski got himself a very decent substitute at last, ladies and gentlemen," the commentator roared, "because Mariusz Broz gives his team the first IQT victory in years! Show him your appreciation, please!"
Kiara was shouting and cheering in her seat next to him, and half the stadium with her. Then it turned into a chant, but it was in Polish and Harry didn't understand it. "I hope you're happy," Alduin said to Mr. Shacklebolt with a laugh.
"If only because most you are disappointed," the man replied with a returning smile, and his wife poked him in the ribs.
As they were leaving their seats, however, they were suddenly blinded by flashes of light, and Harry panicked for a moment before he realized it was cameras, and behind them, there were reporters, saying: "Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter, give us your commentary, please! Who did you support? How did you like the match? Are you looking forward to returning to Hogwarts?"
Alduin stepped in front of him immediately. "You got your pictures," he said in a hard voice, "now let us pass. If you wish, you can arrange an interview with me, and I'll answer any questions about Harry you might have. I made my stance on this clear enough."
"Why won't you let Mr. Potter speak to us? What are you hiding?"
Mr. Shacklebolt laughed incredulously, and Mr. Kingsley stepped forwards. "Even though we're in Germany," he said, "you're still British subjects, so allow me to inform you that what you're doing right now is harassing a minor. Care to stop?"
The journalists dispersed rather quickly after that, and Harry let out a breath of relief.
Kiara shook her head. "Wow," she said. "They usually stop us to try and talk to us as we leave, but they've never been so aggressive before. They must really want to talk to you, Harry."
-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-hp-
The next morning, Alduin checked the Prophet a little apprehensively, but it was tolerable. The headline simply said 'Harry Potter spotted at the IQT finals, surrounded by British wizarding elite', and the picture underneath showed Harry, Kiara, Alduin and Draco all together. Lucius should be happy with that, Alduin thought – certainly more happy than he was with Lucius at the moment.
He hadn't been able to discover any kind of sinister plot. Alexandra, after spending a good portion of yesterday with Narcissa, was confident enough that her cousin didn't know anything about it. Not that that was very surprising – if there was even the slightest chance that whatever was to happen at Hogwarts would endanger Draco, there was no way she'd ever agree to it.
What Alduin had uncovered, however, by asking Susan Shacklebolt about Lucius' secret discussions with her brother and nephew, was a plan to buy a set of new brooms for the Slytherin Quidditch team if Draco was accepted as Seeker. It made him roll his eyes extremely hard. Was Lucius actually stupid? What better way to make everyone think that Draco had to buy his spot on the team, regardless of whether it was true or not? Did he trust his son so little? After all, it wasn't like Slytherin had a great Seeker. Harry managed to beat him last year even as his broom was being jinxed.
But Alduin didn't waste his time by trying to change Lucius's mind – he knew the man too well for that. There was only one way to counter this, and what was making him hesitate were his split loyalties.
After a moment of consideration, he called on the Davies and the Shacklebolts and, much more reluctantly, on the McMillans as well, and a plan was agreed on. After all, Alduin thought, remembering some of the things Harry wrote about last year, it was rather overdue.
As for the other matter, Harry told him that the Shacklebolts had employed Lucius' old personal elf, so he rather thought that perhaps some information could be got out of there. In any case, it the only lead he had.
