AN: Hi, all! I'm back from my vacation, tanned and rested. I am proud to present the eighth chapter. It contains a rather anticlimactic meeting of our heroes. Meaning, that nothing all that interesting happens – no sparks, no sex, no fighting. Pity. But I'll try to get to that in the future.
miss quirky bookworm, Well he looked different. Firstly, there was no scar, secondly, there was a dust problem. I'll describe Flhoyer's appearance in the next few chapters.
the-4gotten-marauder, thanks, I'll try to keep it up. )))
wolfawaken, yay! Glad you liked it. In my opinion this new chapter is sadly not very funny, but I'll try to improve.
Chapter 8
Draco was confined in an abandoned classroom with a hyper fan-girl. That called to panic, but in fact the teen just felt tired and deeply frustrated.
His tour proved to be somewhat fruitful. But all the boys in Durmstrang were too gruff and thus didn't meet his beauty standards. Still, he marked Anton Kovalski as a possible candidate. He had a silver-grey aura, smelt like ocean and wasn't too hard on the eyes with his grey eyes, brown curly hair, a distinguished, aristocratic face and strong built. The guy was a pureblood wizard of third generation. The only problem – he had a fiancé. Young veela was sure that he could snatch the boy for himself, but he wasn't certain he wanted to do that.
Beauxbatons was an even more disappointing endeavor. A pretty Mudblood - no wizarding ancestry at all. And he didn't particularly like her calendula aroma and bright orange aura.
Earlier today he received a love letter. Not a particularly new occurrence, but the smell of old wine and flashes of light-green aura that accompanied it were one.
So here he was, on a meeting with his secret admirer who happened to be a thirteen year old Hufflepuff girl who barely hit her puberty. It explained why he hadn't noticed her earlier. Apparently his veela senses picked up only on sexually mature people.
Draco wasn't willing to wait five more years to see what will grow from the skinny teen and was currently thinking how to easier let her down. He couldn't help but to feel a bit more amicable towards the candidates. Had it been another person, she would already be crying from a cruelly broken heart.
He sighed and stopped the babbling girl with a gesture.
"Listen, I understand your feelings, but I don't…"
Abruptly his senses were engulfed in a powerful scent of freshly cut grass and ozone.
"Sorry," he said back to the teary girl and rushed out of the room.
He saw nobody but still noticed the flickering of dark green, almost black aura at the turn of the corridor. When he reached the corner he still saw nobody (an invisibility cloak, perhaps?) but the aura… He was immediately hooked. It was dark green with flashing silver lightning and light-blue veins.
Draco was so shocked to finally find something so appealing that completely missed the disappearance of the source of his confusion. He quickly followed the intoxicating smell and finally stopped in front of the gargoyle. The Headmaster's office. The veela scowled, so what? He would wait and find out who hid behind that aura and scent, if not today then tomorrow. Or he wasn't Lord Malfoy.
Flhoyer hummed happily under his breath as he breached the Hogwarts wards, which immediately sent a message to the Headmaster about the intruder who had the intention to meet with his person. The young man marveled briefly at the elegance of the ancient warding system, and wondered if, maybe, one or more of the Founders went through the Knowledge Chambers.
He enveloped himself in a light reflecting shield, which was basically the same as disillusionment charm but improved. It was steadier and did not allow for fluctuations of particles that caused an unfortunate rippling effect. It had taken him some time (a day and a half) to calculate the necessary Arithmantic equations, but it worked.
The mage confidently strolled towards Dumbledore's office all the way feeling the distracting beckoning of the wards leading him to his destination. As if he didn't know his way around the castle! Oh well, according to his shaky legend he didn't.
Flhoyer waited impatiently for the gargoyle to open and quickly stepped on the magical escalator. He had a feeling he was being followed and that made him nervous. He didn't really know why.
Albus Dumbledore was not the happiest person in the world. Though he was experienced, rich, powerful and respected all throughout the wizarding world, it didn't help him in the predicament he was currently in. Harry Potter seemingly vanished from the face of the Earth and was somehow dead. And what about the prophecy? He himself wasn't ever ready to fight Tom Riddle. His strength was enough to hold the stalemate but not to win the war. Not without the new shining hero. He himself was one some time ago, and hoped to mold the Boy-Who-Lived to the new guiding figure of the wizarding world. After all, his own prime time was in the past. He would be dead within the next two decades, of that he was sure. All his magical senses screamed it to him.
Ah, so many plans ruined. The wizened man had been prepared to train Harry and get him ready for his destined role as soon as he had arrived to the new school year. But alas…
The unexpected visitor was welcome to distract him from his useless pondering.
The Headmaster peered over the glasses on the person standing in the doorway. His appearance was… questionable. Was it some new fad? He was sure dust couldn't hold on the person in such a way without some magical assistance.
"Please take a seat,.."
"Lord Ryan Flhoyer, Headmaster."
"Yes, yes," he hadn't heard of the family, but the ring on the right hand ring finger confirmed the title. Interesting. It must be either foreign, small, new or a secluded clan. "So why do I have the honour of a meeting with you, young sir?"
The young sir merely raised an eyebrow at the form of address, but answered obediently.
"I wish to enroll in the seventh year at the Hogwarts institution. What would I need to accomplish that?"
"If I may inquire as to how old…"
"I am seventeen."
"Very well," Dumbledore serenely folded his hands above the desk. "Did you take your OWLs?"
The young man in front of him hesitated, "No. I had a very lax home-education so far. More precisely, I educated myself, so I am more thorough in the areas that interested me, while may be uneducated in some compulsory subjects."
"I see," the Headmaster sighed. The situation wasn't new to him. "Then you'll need to take the tests to gauge your knowledge level. I believe I can arrange it to be done within the next week. If you are not up to the level of the seventh year curriculum subjects you can hire a tutor or self-study before September till you reach an acceptable level, or simply take some other course. However, for admission you still have to take your OWLs, which you can easily pass with the rest of the students here at the end of the term."
The young lord hm-med thoughtfully.
"I accept. Will you, please, send me the note on the timing of tests and the testing and tuition fee?"
"Of course, you'll get it within two days."
"Thank you for your time then, Headmaster."
"No problem, young sir… If may I ask you a question?"
"Certainly."
"Is there a new fashion in the youth circle?"
"I'm afraid I wouldn't know. Why?"
"Young sir, you do realize that you are covered in the layers of dust?"
"What?" The surprise on Ryan's face was not faked. In a second an understanding dawned on the matted face. "Oh! Of course! I completely forgot about the self-cleaning charm. It must not have worked as well as I anticipated… I must have overlooked the static…" The already standing young man seemed to have lost himself in his thoughts. Definitely, Ravenclaw. And a spellcrafter no less. He would be a valuable addition to the students' population. And the Order of the Phoenix later on, perhaps? It remained to be seen. Dumbledore's mood brightened a bit.
"No problem, young sir, but you should pay more attention to your appearance. Many judge the person only going by the first impression. Lemon drop?"
Ryan was highly disappointed. He couldn't find any drugs or other foreign substances in the offered lemon drops. So all the rumors flying across the school the whole time he was here were just that – rumors.
He stepped from behind the gargoyle into the corridor and was about to cast the invisibility spell, when a cough interrupted him.
The tall figure in school-clad robes shifted from its position on the wall.
"And who might you be? I have never seen you around…"
Ryan gaped at the casual rudeness, but soon enough recognized his former rival and relaxed. The boy changed, matured in appearance, but apparently not in mind and manners. Malfoy now looked more like his father – a proud aristocrat rather than a pointy git.
"In answer to your polite inquiry… I am called Lord Ryan Flhoyer, and you are?"
"Lord Draconis Malfoy. A sixth year prefect. Pleasure, I'm sure."
The blonde firmly grasped and shook the offered hand. Ryan hid a wince. Perhaps, he should pay more attention to his physical strength as well as magical studies. He was healthy, his Callings required nothing less, but not that toned. He had to correct the oversight. Wrestling with a pet werewolf will, for example, provide a challenge.
"Are you a new student?"
A question broke Flhoyer out of his thoughts.
He smiled tentatively. "I hope to join the seventh year in the fall."
"Ah. That is good news. It would be pleasurable to have you around. Maybe we will even be in the same House. You do know about the four Houses of Hogwarts, right?"
"Of course, who doesn't! Now, if you'll excuse me, I must hurry, I have an appointment to attend."
With a brief nod to Malfoy he hurriedly departed the school. Breathing the fresh air of the outside, Ryan shivered. Something just wasn't right back there. Why Malfoy would take an interest in an unknown man? He was clearly laying in wait for him. How did he even know there was a stranger in the castle? Peculiar. Perhaps, some Dream-spying was in order.
And the emphasis Malfoy made on the word pleasurable! Was it just him, or did that sound purposefully seductive?.. No, he won't go there, he had many other things to worry about.
Ryan stopped and sat on the shore of the Black Lake. All the students seemed to be in classes, and it was serenely peaceful at the moment. Flhoyer may have acquired a different personality, but he still missed Hogwarts and considered it his pseudo-home.
The Dreamer lovingly caressed his new ring. When he came to Gringotts, goblins were more than ready to provide him with all the necessary documentation on the Potter and Black properties, the latter of which he inherited from his deceased godfather. The young mage thanked gods that the ancient clause of renouncing and taking on a new name was still in effect in Gringotts. While he could do without the material wealth and easily earn money on his own, the spare funds left him more freedom to study and decide his future.
As Ryan had already known, his parents were wealthy, not in the filthy rich wealthy like Malfoys, but he still had enough money to live in the relative luxury for two hundred years, and that not considering the percentage continuously being added from new and old investments made by the goblin manager of his account.
The Black family, however, to Flhoyer's surprise, turned out to be much poorer, but they had an abundance of dark history, ancient library and pretty powerful artifacts behind their name. So, all in all, the young man was highly pleased with his inheritance. He couldn't wait to boot the Order out of Grimmauld Place to gain access to all the restricted books.
Having contemplated for a short time – three minutes, Flhoyer accepted the goblin's proposition to merge the two Lordships into one. But instead of adopting either Black or Potter name, as goblin suggested, Ryan decided to stick to his Calling.
The two rings one sinister and dark and other bright and gaudy were shortly after combined in a platinum wide ring with deep blue sapphire in the middle, surrounded by small emeralds. The engraving inside the ring proclaimed Shiskura. Runti. Klast. Or control, power, and creativity in Ammadean.
Not that original, but in his opinion it was better than the Blacks' pureblood bigotry or the Potters' anti-dark prejudices. He himself rather liked dark, night, black and all the arts stemming from there, so he wasn't content with a family motto "Let the Light Prevail." Not that he wasn't fond of the light either. He just didn't want to choose one over the other. It would rather limit his fields of study and that simply wouldn't do.