Review Responses:
Lordheaven: I'm glad you're interested in Harry's classes, I myself hope I can make them up to my readers' expectations. XD You'll see more detail in them a little later, once Harry gets further into the swing of things. The demerits/detentions will be interesting, and maybe even a little fun for me to write XD, I already have a bunch of things planned. Harry might meet a girl at Zotzion, but right now the people aren't taking to him, save for Yakov, who is indeed a big help. Later Harry will meet others, they just might not be as close friends.Though I was wondering, how do you say 'here' as in 'I'm here', it would be usful for roll-call in class. Thanks for reviewing!
punkreader: Hmm, the 'point-me' spell? A variation of that might work. Thanks for the tip!
Thanks also to ForeverUsed, MinorMistake99, OnePhoenix, cowboyjb, and William Knight for your support, it means a lot! I'm glad you all like the story! Hope to hear from you all again!
A/N: I am soooo sorry for the horribly long delay! I hope you haven't given up on reading/reviewing! Stomach flu hit my family,and after I got better my parents and then my sister weren't in the best of shape. Add that to AIMS (stupid standardized testing here for highschool), and a stupid History project on the Russo-Japanese War and, well... bleh. But here it is, the next chapter! I hope to have another one up before another month nearly passes! XD I hope you like it!
A/N: I am soooo sorry for the horribly long delay! I hope you haven't given up on reading/reviewing! Stomach flu hit my family,and after I got better my parents and then my sister weren't in the best of shape. Add that to AIMS (stupid standardized testing here for highschool), and a stupid History project on the Russo-Japanese War and, well... bleh. But here it is, the next chapter! I hope to have another one up before A/N: I am soooo sorry for the horribly long delay! I hope you haven't given up on reading/reviewing! Stomach flu hit my family,and after I got better my parents and then my sister weren't in the best of shape. Add that to AIMS (stupid standardized testing here for highschool), and a stupid History project on the Russo-Japanese War and, well... bleh. But here it is, the next chapter! I hope to have another one up before A/N: I am soooo sorry for the horribly long delay! I hope you haven't given up on reading/reviewing! Stomach flu hit my family,and after I got better my parents and then my sister weren't in the best of shape. Add that to AIMS (stupid standardized testing here for highschool), and a stupid History project on the Russo-Japanese War and, well... bleh. But here it is, the next chapter! I hope to have another one up before
Chapter 19: Vladimir
It was around seven o'clock when Harry had to follow Yakov back down from the warm library and out into the chilly air, try not to slip and fall to his death on the traitorous walkway while ignoring his friend's laughter, rush down the stairwell which left him aching and gasping for breath, and then separate so he could make a dash for his room in Dareios' quarters. Hastily washing his face in a basin of cold water, Harry wet his hair in order to tame it some and hurried out to the main room, where the others were waiting already to go to dinner.
"Dry your hair next time, boy." Dareios commented gruffly. "And be here early if you must; lateness will not be tolerated for much longer. Understand?"
"Yes Sir," Harry sighed.
"And neither will that ungrateful tone!" he barked.
Harry straightened. "Yes Sir."
With a last shrewd glance at his newest apprentice, Dareios led the way to the dining hall, Harry trudging along in the back. The bruises he'd gained from the weapon-instruction earlier that day were forming, and they hurt like heck; he felt as if he'd been run over by a bloody hippogriff! Trying to hold in a series of winces as he walked, Harry slowly made his way over to his customary table, where Yakov was already seated, not looking at all out of breath from his run down from the library tower.
"Dobar vecher," the Bulgarian greeted cheerfully as he poured himself a goblet.
Harry chewed his lip, trying to remember what that meant. "Er—evening; and don't even think about pouring me some of that reeka stuff!" His glare caused the other wizard's hand to stop above the second goblet with a sigh.
"Rakia. Ra-ki-a!" Yakov insisted. "Get it correct for vonce!"
"Well, whatever the name is, I don't want it in my cup," Harry growled. "It's poison."
Yakov rolled his eyes, which were sparkling mischievously. "You foreigners 'ave veak stomachs, tat is the problem."
Harry sniffed indignantly and poured himself something from a brass jug. Swirling it around carefully, he suspiciously sniffed it. Deciding that it seemed alright, he took a sip. He swished it around in his mouth and swallowed. "Not bad, what's this stuff?" he asked.
Yakov took a glance at the dark red liquid and answered, "Gamza—it is vine. I prefer Mayrud, it has more flavor."
Harry raised an eyebrow. Wine? How much alcohol did these people drink? He would have to be careful with what he drank. So that limits me to...water, milk, ajran, and... that's about it. He smiled ruefully to himself before taking note of what most of the people at the table were eating. Looking around, he grinned slightly and loaded a portion of his plate with bread, and a small dish of the yogurt he had come to love already after only a few meals. After a few minutes of close inspection, he chose something from an earthy green platter which had skewers of red peppers, onions, and chopped meat, coated in an unknown sauce. Taking a nibble, Harry thought for a moment. After swallowing the tasty bite, he opened his mouth.
"Kavarma," Yakov answered immediately, reading a portion of the book he'd been working on earlier that day when they'd met up to study.
Harry chuckled. "Am I already that easy to predict?"
"But of course," was the reply. "All British vizards are."
"And have you known many?"
"Tat is for me to know, and for you to vind out." Yakov chuckled. Harry rolled his eyes.
Harry rolled over in his sleep, stuffing his head under his pillow to block out the small beam of sunrise that had pierced the thick curtains of his bedroom window. Ten more minutes... he sleepily thought to himself. There was a creak as his door opened. Wait... he was havingdejavu here...door... sunrise...WATER! Harry's eyes shot open and he threw himself from his bed with a yell, just as Sergei poked his head in.
The young Bulgarian's eyebrows rose and he began to laugh. "What was that?" he smirked. "A banshee-repellent chanting ritual?"
Harry rubbed his severely bruised knees as he ducked his head to hide a blush. "I thought you would pour a bucket of water on me again," he muttered under his breath in embarrassment.
Sergei's grin widened. "And you were right to think so. However, I never wake someone up the same way twice. I have an imagination."
Harry swallowed, thinking of the expanse of the Weasley twins' imagination. "I'll—I'll keep that in mind, thanks."
"You're welcome. Now, I advise you to stretch before you get dressed, or your legs are going to be killing you later today. Not to mention you have Magister Vladimir for your Theory class today, and more exercise with Magister Dareios."
Harry's eyes widened in dismay. "You mean there's more of that torture?"
Sergei raised an eyebrow. "You foreigners are strange, are you aware of that? Everywhere else physical training is a regular process, but you haven't the basic training of it under your belt." With a strange look and that stranger statement, the young apprentice left Harry to get ready.
Said wizard sighed and forced his aching limbs and torso through a few mild stretches that he'd learned for his Quidditch position as Seeker. Wincing all the while, he did them as quickly as he could, trying to remember where the name Vladimir had come from; it was familiar... While trying to get his hair to stay flat without getting it too wet and only succeeding in making it messier, Harry thought about the name again and again. He would not ask someone, that would only make him look like a fool. It was only after Dareios' morning greeting (which consisted of a barking order to straighten his hair again), that he remembered what was familiar about the name. A pair of blue, smirking eyes, black hair, a drawling voice: Vladimir was the Elder of Zotzion. Vladimir was the wizard who had accepted Harry into Zotzion as a joke. Vladimir was theone who had forced Dareios to Sponsor him. Harry ground his teeth in frustration. Why in Merlin's name did he have to be taught by someone who he hadn't even really met, yet already felt like a fool in front of?
His irritation must have shown on his face when he sat down, because Yakov's brow creased in slight concern and he asked, "Vhat is wrong?"
"I've a lesson with Vladimir today," Harry growled out in a low voice before tearing off a piece of bread to chew ferociously on.
"Ahh," Yakov sighed knowingly, putting some bread on his own plate. "Vell, vhen you do have class vith him, my advice is this: do not loose your temper, no matter vhat the Elder does or say. The timetat yousay something in anger, is the time tat you vill say one of the things tat you vill regret for much time to come."
"Wonderful," Harry muttered. "Controlling my temper's never really been my strong suit."
"Then this is a good time to learn," Yakov replied with his usually friendly smile as he opened his book.
Harry sighed. How could the Bulgarian be so blastedcheerful about things like this?
However, Harry soon found that the lesson with Vladimir would not happen until directly before lunch, and in the time between he would be learning with the twins again in the Control Room, practicing stretches—he groaned upon hearing this—and clearing his mind to gather his magic. Maybe I can get through this one without exploding anything, he thought remorsefully to himself as he followed the others back to Dareios' quarters.
The following two hours seemed to pass terribly slowly, with Harry nearly falling asleep in his boredom. The twins didn't seem to have a problem, they didn't fidget—like Harry did, or glance around the room in search of something of interest—like Harry did. To the British wizard, his mind seemed to be emptier from lack of concentration than from actually trying and succeeding to do so. However, Dareios didn't notice for the most part, so other than a few berating comments, that part of the lesson went uneventful. Stretches followed the boredom-session, and Harry silently thanked Sergei for his advice in stretching before fully waking up. Though his legs were burning by the time they finished, and his back felt like it would never be straight again, it hadn't hurt as excruciatingly as it had yesterday. He hoped that someday it would be only mildly painful.
After meditation and stretches, Matthias and Nikodemus left for their own classes outside of their Sponsor's tutelage, and Harry once again took up his writing utensils for lessons in the Lore of dark magic. He learned more of the warlocks who had first practiced the Shadow magic, along with legends of spells and rituals they had used to further their lives, but which were lost to the ages through time and misfortune. As he took notes of Dareios' lecture, Harry wondered how Voldemort had felt, hearing these stories for the first time. Had he felt eager, interested, even exhilarated to hear that there were once ways to make oneself immortal? Imagining himself in Voldemort's place, Harry shuddered. No doubt these tales he was hearing now had put the match to Voldemort's explosive fervor for the Dark Arts. These stories were just another thing that connected them with a thick, ugly, black similarity. But I won't turn, he thought angrily, I won't become a monster...
When the lesson in lore was over, Dareios informed him that he would have to rent texts from the library before tomorrow's lessons, as well as what other topics he would be studying. After scribbling down those bits, Harry found that dueling would be his next class after lunch. This gave him something to look forward to after what he was sure would be a disaster in his Theory of Magic class with Elder Vladimir.
When Dareios dismissed him, Harry followed Ivaylo up to another tower, down two staircases, through seven halls, and up another flight of steps in order to reach the Magister's classroom. They sat down at the desks and Harry got out his things ahead of time, so he wouldn't be caught sitting without them. He fiddled with his quill, noting sadly that Ivaylo was the only other person he knew in this class. A few other students were speaking English, but they were on the other side of the room.
The milky-skinned Elder glided through the door to his office like a dementor, his cold eyes scanning the audience of students, who had fallen silent the moment the doorknob had turned. His gaze passing over Harry, the Elder smirked slightly, a small sneer in his eyes. Wonderful. Harry had been right to not like him. With a coldly graceful flourish, Vladimir, sat down in the throne-like chair behind his desk, and called the roll. The students raised their hands rather than reply, so Harry did the same, trying not to grind his teeth in frustration at the sneering glance the Elder cast him. Why in Merlin's name did Vladimir despise him like this? The memory of his first potion's class at Hogwarts caused Harry's cheeks to flush in anger and his magic twinge. He lowered his gaze to his desk, trying furiously to block the similarity between Snape and Vladimir from his mind.
The Magister put away the roll and began to speak; in Bulgarian of course. He stopped in mid-sentence, then gave a cool chuckle and smirked. "Ah, my...apologies. I neglected to remember that some of you have not yet taken upon yourselves the responsibility to fully research what is expected of you here at Zotzion."
Harry did not miss the sly look passed on him in particular before the Elder looked coldly at the other two students who only spoke English. "For those of you who have not thus far been capable of perceiving what it is I have said, in this class you shall be studying different views of magical practice, how to use it, when to use it, and what to use in a particular situation. You will learn much of your basic analysis skills here in this room, as well as the difference between certain magics. Such as...? Potter."
Harry blinked in surprise. "Different magics, Sir?"
"Yes, Potter. Name some. Surely the top secondary wizarding school in Europe has taught you something." Vladimir drawled mockingly in reply.
Harry's throat tightened in anger. "There's mind magic, wandless magic, and wand magic, Sir." He answered.
Vladimir snorted. "Those are all very much the same, Potter. Your Sponsor would do well to educate you in the simple nature of things before passing you on to this class." Harry swallowed his frustration, taking it out instead on the satisfying image of Vladimir bursting into feathers. "Drastion." The Elder called.
"There are elemental magics, natural magics, dark and light magics, aura magics, telepath and empathy magics, and also magics of race, Magister, to name a few." Answered the brown-haired English speaking wizard.
Vladimir nodded. "Such magics are commonly known, or rather should be, to you all." He raised an eyebrow mockingly at Harry, who looked down with an aggravated breath. "Though the practical learning of these magics are primarily the accountability of your Sponsors, you shall practice them occasionally within this class, though it is principally a class to educate you in decision making when various magic types are concerned. In here petty squabbles of the world in regards to ethics and beliefs shall be disregarded. Obliterated. They do not matter. As it has once been said before, very wisely, there is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. And how to use that power is what you shall learn here. I say Potter, does that prospect daunt you?"
The Elder sneered at Harry, who had flinched at the quote. Voldemort had said that once... He, Harry, was supposed to follow the words that had been said to him by the man who tried to murder him...?
"No Sir, I'm not afraid of a challenge." He replied stubbornly.
Vladimir's icy eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" he sneered. "Well we shall se how firm you are in that resolve. I will tell you allnow, I expect afour page report on the debate of elemental magics versus natural magics, due next class. Open your books, and we shall begin." He caught sight of Harry's empty desk while the other students were taking out their own materials. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "What, not prepared Potter? Tsk, tsk. Your Sponsor truly must be disappointed to have a student so ill-equipped to face daily challenges. That is a demerit for lack of materials, Potter, to be served on Sunday."
That was unfair! He'd just gotten here a few days ago! How was he supposed to know what books he needed? Nobody would tell him! "I'm already serving on that day," Harry retorted, face red.
Retorting was a bad idea, but Harry only gathered that after Ivaylo shot him a wrathful glare. Vladimir's eyes grew colder. "You will serve a demerit on Sunday, Potter, as well as one on Monday for disrespect towards the Elder. I expect you in my office after you complete your other demerit. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir." Harry ground out fro between clenched teeth.
Vladimir was indeed another Snape...
Translation(s):
Dobar vecher: Good evening
---Thanks to Lordheaven for the translation from Bulgarian to English!---