Cruz

Chapter 1. Arrival

I had always planned to make a large painting of the early spring, when the first leaves are at the bottom of the trees, and they seem to float in space in a wonderful way. But the arrival of spring can't be done in one picture. ―David Hockney

-HP-

Sitting by his large chair at the far end of the Great Hall, Albus Dumbledore realized that the murmuring distended throughout the four tables would not shut down any time soon. It was expected that all students, as it was a secret known by teachers and representatives of the Ministry, would eventually find out about the event that would take place at Hogwarts. The fact that they all had witnessed the arrival of the Durmstrang ship and Beauxbatons carriages was not the best way to stop the rumors of a Tournament that would extend itself over the school year, which was now the main topic of the night.

Harry, Hermione and Ron had been informed by Fred and George, who had found out at the Quidditch World Cup while listening to his father talking to Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. While Ron and Harry were ecstatic, Hermione was not really that interested in the news. In fact, she had some bad feelings about it all, but decided not stating them aloud and avoid annoying her two thrilled friends.

Dumbledore, after the Sorting of the First Years, finally stood to address the students.

"Now that we all are sorted, I'd like to make an important announcement," he began. "Hogwarts has been chosen as the host of a legendary event, and the castle not only will be your home this year, but home to these very special guests as well. As some of you may know, The Triwizard Tournament will be taking place." More whispering was released at this statement, but Dumbledore continued. "For those who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament is a magical contest between three schools, each school being represented by one Champion. Eternal glory! That's what awaits the student who wins The Triwizard Tournament, but to do this, that student must survive three tasks." His face turned severe, features showing nothing more but seriousness and concern, "Three extremely dangerous tasks, that will test magical ability, intelligence and courage. And let me be clear, if chosen ―you stand alone."

The headmaster introduced Ludo Bagman, then, who explained the main rules of the Tournament. Due to the dangerous nature of it, Ludo informed that it was decided that some changes were to be made to the rules, with the main one being that no student under the age of sixteen was allowed to enter or compete. Students groaned and smiles turned into glares at hearing not all of them would be allowed to try and win, after all how often was there a chance to win something this big?

Meanwhile, a bored Marco and Niko poked and proved the ground with their glimmer sticks on their journey towards the Hogwarts castle. They had already been told all about the school and everything they needed to do during the school year, both sure enough it would take a lot of hard work and patience to achieve their target. Viktor and Karkaroff walked right beside them; silence had fallen between the four while following the Beauxbatons students down the hallways.

Unlike their counterparts, who were dressed in light blue and seemed to glide around the corners, pointing to the paintings adorning the walls and avoiding the ghosts which happily glided from the rooms they walked past, the Durmstrang delegation moved in a way more akin to an army; two lines of students led by the seventh years, each step falling in line with one another's and gaze held firmly in front of them. It would have been impressive if it were not for the slightly robotic and emotionless movements they made.

"Has it hurt recently?" asked Niko quietly, only for Marco to hear, while adjusting his coat over his shoulders, as Karkaroff and Viktor held a quiet conversation of their own.

"No, not like before," said Marco looking down at the burn mark beneath the necklace resting over his chest. It was a small, golden pendant, Cross looking, though the length of the two metal bars was the same, with a tiny and polished black stone right in the center.

"Do you think Dumbledore will find out?" Niko inquired.

"Yes, eventually. That is how this was planned, wasn't it?" said Marco vaguely, scratching his shaved chin and then sliding a hand through his short hair.

There was silence.

"I mean before ―before everything."

"Listen, Niko, I know you've heard of the man just a couple of times," said Marco turning to his friend, a stern look on his face. "So you need to understand that Dumbledore is an extraordinary wizard, and that's why we must not underestimate him. I'm certain that though he may not know what things will be faced ahead in this Tournament, he will realize who I am and who my father was once my whole name is known. He may even question me about, you know, the past. So it won't be easy to fool him, mate, I can assure you that."

"We must be truly careful, then," said Niko, and it was not a question but a statement, his assented voice lost through the corridor like a silent echo.

"That is of outmost importance," reassured Marco severely, looking at his companion with hard eyes as they finally reached the double doors that led to the Great Hall.

"First may I introduce the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons academy of magic," Marco heard Dumbledore's strong voice throughout the Great Hall forcing each and every Hogwarts student to stop what they were doing and turn to the doors opening on his silent command. Nearly every teenage wizard and even some witches pushed their way past their friends in an attempt to work themselves closer to the edge of the benches they were sitting on, watching the females walking past.

Dumbledore allowed himself to be charmed as he watched the witches in front of him summon small birds from their sleeves as they periodically stopped in front of each row and waved their arm across the near drooling wizards with a smile and a sigh.

"Madame Maxime, it's a pleasure to see you again," the headmaster bowed his head and kissed the tall woman's hand, leading her to the right seat.

Large sections of the Great Hall broke into cheer as they watched the witches standing still until their Headmistress took her own seat next to Dumbledore. Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder in an effort to keep his eyes on the rear ends of the females who were finding their seats.

"And now our brothers from Durmstrang!"

Once again, eyes turned back to the front of the hall eager to see just what the second's arrival of wizards would do to entertain them. Both schools watched as the Great Hall was filled with new bodies, this time all male students wearing thick red cloaks. Their display was just as extravagant as the Beauxbatons' students in their own way; the sticks were held out in front of them and tossed with ease from hand to hand, an apparition like version copied the movement a second later causing younger eyes to widen in surprise at what they had seen.

It all came to a sudden stop as Karkaroff followed his back flipping aide down the Great Hall, stopping in front of the Hogwarts Headmaster as he conjured a flaming dragon to fly around the older man. Three particular students followed their headmaster close behind.

"Bloody hell, it's him!" Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione. "It's Viktor Krum!"

The three of them watched the famous Quidditch player walk side by side with two of his companions, both tall and muscular, though one of them didn't hold the same kind of Bulgarian features. To the sharp-sighted, like Hermione, he even looked British with his short, dark brown hair and blue eyes, cold and colored as ice. Hermione watched said teenager with genuine curiosity as he walked confident, head held high and arms by his sides; his bright gaze traveled through the Great Hall, falling first upon Dumbledore, who shared a quick glance with Snape, and short after upon Harry. He kept his intense eyes on him ―and Hermione was certain that, like many people, he was most interested on his scar― until he caught her staring, Hermione being the one to look away first, quite disturbed by the power of his gaze.

"Isn't he familiar to you? Somehow?" Harry asked his two friends in a low whisper, watching the British among the Bulgarians. After pondering for a moment, Ron and Hermione nodded rather uncertain, staring at the dark-haired with equal interest. Harry turned to them. "I think ―I don't know, I think I've seen him somewhere before. Can't really put my finger on it, though."

Hermione's eyes lighted up.

"He was at the Quidditch World Cup!" she whispered. "He was talking to Ludo Bagman before the big match and then he stood alone a few seats away from us, remember?"

"He's by Krum now, maybe he was at the game to watch him." Harry didn't seem entirely convinced; he vaguely remembered the guy from the Quidditch World Cup now that Hermione had mentioned it, but Harry could not stop the thought that he knew the darkly handsome young man of fair skin and, short but messy brown hair from somewhere else. And throughout dinner, he tried with all his might to remember, squeezing every drop of memory kept inside his brain. However, his efforts were in vain, finally causing him a severe headache.

After delicious meals suddenly appeared in front of them, the three friends ate ―Ron, of course, being the one who ended up with a full stomach― talking about the brown-headed and glancing at him once in a while, only they were not aware that said familiar face was looking right back, discretely staring at Harry along with his comrade.

The fallowing days turned out to be a frenzy of Hogwarts students trying to catch a glimpse of either Durmstrang or Beauxbatons students, who had actually denied Dumbledore's offer of staying inside the castle with them during the year.

Madame Maxime had smiled while informing the school that they had more than enough room in their carriages to sleep there during the nights; they would however eat their meal in the Great Hall with everyone else. Karkaroff hadn't shown the same manners and rejected the offer to stay in the Slytherin common room saying that he wouldn't risk being sabotaged before the Triwizard Tournament; he had agreed, though, that his students would eat with both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. After all, bringing the three schools together for an entire year was an effort to improve cooperation between countries and schools.

The third day, along with Niko, Marco left the vessel after a quick breakfast, already tired of the constant and annoying gathering of students on the grass shore ―Viktor's doing, of course. To their luck, the Quidditch player didn't joined them as the two snuck out of the Durmstrang ship earlier in the day; and now they were currently walking around the grounds of Hogwarts without being disturbed by a bunch of fans trying to see their famous friend. Marco needed to be there, though, as keeping an eye on Potter was his main priority to later succeed on his plans.

Harry was not easy to find, though, and Marco spent all morning sided by Niko as they walked around the castle hoping to come across the fourth year or even one of the two friends that seemed to be always with him. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, both close to him since their very first year here in Hogwarts; if they found one of them, either would surely led them to Harry.

Marco had already seen them a few times at meals and even on the afternoons, walking out of a classroom, but none of those moments seemed to be suitable to approach the trio. He had noticed this odd behavior that Potter and his friends showed whenever he and Niko were around, though, and their behavior did not resembled at all the one Viktor's fans showed when they saw him. The trio would look at the two curiously and cautiously, almost as if trying to find something just by staring, the three friends whispering and silently discussing every time.

"Have you seen Alestor so far?" asked Niko as they walked down the second floor. "I catched sight of him yesterday at lunch, of course, but I haven't seen him since."

"Me neither, but we can sure guess he's already focused on the task in hand," said Marco while walking in direction to the Great Hall, most girls on their route turning their eyes to them; it seemed that both Marco and Niko were quite an attraction for the female population in the castle, even when Viktor was not around. "As he should," Marco added while Niko significantly smirked to a few girls who got in the way, Marco chuckling at his friend's foolishness. "You could be, at least, a little more discrete, Nikolai. And I don't understand why you try, you know very well there is no time for girls, we must concentrate on our only and crucial goal."

"Oh, come on now, mate!" exclaimed Niko, jokingly punching Marco on the arm, who only ran a hand through his short and messy hair, a crocked grin over his lips. "Have a little fun, and don't tell me that you are going to keep those hands to yourself the entire school year. That would be an atrocious lie and you know it."

Marco's deep laugh echoed through the corridor once more, getting the attention of a few, but he just looked at his friend as if he was mad, both enjoying the momentary carelessness. The two continued arguing teasingly with each other, though, until they finally reached the Great Hall's double door, the sound of playful shouts and loud conversations heard from outside, as Viktor and Karkaroff waited by the door.

"Are you tired of so many girls begging for you to take them on your broom, Viktor?" Niko joked with a taunting smirk, shoving his arm around Viktor's shoulder and patting his chest, and even Karkaroff let himself laugh with his three favorite students.

After Viktor shoved Niko away, the three of them marched inside the Great Hall alongside each other in perfect synchrony, Karkaroff following closely while hiding his hands behind his back, the ghost of a smile over their now void expressions. Everything went quiet as all heads expectantly turned in the direction of Krum, his fellows and the headmaster of their school. Quickly glancing around, Marco spotted Potter and his two friends along with a bunch of Gryffindors over one of the empty tables, the trio watching the silent march of the three Durmstrang students like everyone else.

Krum was the first one to let the piece of parchment fall inside the Goblet and the action was met by Karkaroff approving smile, as was Niko's. While Potter and the redhead seemed to have been chattering about some exiting topic before their sudden arrival at the Great Hall, Granger had been reading this large and heavy-looking book now forgotten in her lap as she intently watched Marco get closer to the flaming Goblet in the center of the room. Once he finally stood before the Goblet of Fire, with a steady and silent sigh, he took out the previously written, small piece of paper and looked at it one last time before throwing it inside the fire.

He could not stop the thought of his name on that parchment, perfectly knowing that it was his and no other Durmstrang' that would come out at the day of choosing the champions, the imminent and unwelcomed astonish that was carried along with his name already getting him edgy.

-HP-

"I can't believe we actually have to study this year," Niko groaned shoving his large book of History of Magic inside his bag pack. Marco just laughed adjusting his own bag to his shoulder, as they walked through the corridors of the ship.

"We've endured five years studying in Durmstrang," said Marco as they took the route to the deck and then to the shore. "I believe we can actually go through another one here. Just think that before the school year ends, something else will begin and we won't have to go back to Durmstrang again, or Bulgaria for that matter."

"I guess you're right," muttered Niko reluctantly; he had never been the studying type, neither had Marco. "It's useless to us, that's all I'm saying. And now we have to do this stupid, ten pages long essay of History of Magic for Monday." Niko groaned some more as the two of them walked over the plank and through the shore grass, into Hogwarts' gardens. Marco turned to Niko, who now looked decided, a smirk growing over his lips. "And you know what? I'm not doing anything today. I'm heading to the Great Hall right now to stuff myself with the delicious lunch they have here, and of course, to delight my day with the company of some beautiful fifth years we walked by yesterday."

"You will never change, my friend!" a grinning Marco shouted after Niko, who waved without looking back as he ran hurriedly through the students in his way to a late lunch, thought to be surrounded by pretty girls.

To his luck, Marco only needed to spun over his heels to find what they had been looking for in the past four days: the chance to approach Potter and his friends, which had proved to be quite the task, seeing as there didn't seem to be a right time. And now he was provided with the solution, as he witnessed the one and only Draco Malfoy having a loud display of jeers and come backs with Hermione, who even with the prospect of being all alone, stood head high defending herself from Malfoy's rudeness.

Although Weasley was not there, Marco could hear that the redhead was still a target of Draco's smart remarks, referring to him by uncalled names just like Potter ―Marco was certain that the word scarhead reached his ears in between other insults― but Hermione just held her books to her chest and walked. Marco noticed that she was trying with all her might to keep herself in check and her wand inside her pocket, as Crabbe and Goyle laughed at everything Malfoy dared to say.

"Is here a problem?" Marco asked politely just as he heard the word mudblood, and stood right beside Hermione, arms crossed over his chest.

"It's none of your business," Draco hissed looking at Marco up and down. "Don't stick your nose where you're not called."

"It is my problem if you're openly insulting someone and right before me," Marco said calmly, narrowing his eyes just slightly. "Why don't you walk away now, I can tell she's not interested in listening whatever you need to say to make yourself feel better."

"You don't know me," Draco spat confidently, though it was evident that he was taken aback by Marco's sudden intervention, and so were the two gorillas that flanked his sides. "So don't you dare say anything else about me, you mudblood lover."

"You're right, I don't know you," Marco retorted. A lie, though; he knew Malfoy family from long ago and was familiarized with their constant bragging and disdain for anyone considered inferior. "But I know what kind of person you are, and there is nothing more satisfying for you than reminding people just who their betters are."

"That's exactly why I'm speaking to this filthy mudblood," Draco smirked, but it was quickly erased from his face at the sight of Marco taking out a long and black wand from his pocket, pointed at his chest in a swift move.

"I swear that If I hear you saying the word mudblood again," Marco's voice was a low and threatening, while he saw by the corner of his eye people watching the display, "you won't be able to say anything else again."

Malfoy understood the unsaid message and scoffed one last time to make himself look unnerved by Marco's warning, before turning around and leaving followed by the two gorillas, who were now, Marco thought, just like two lost puppies. With a slight smirk on his lips, Marco turned to see Hermione standing beside him, her eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape. Clearly surprised, Hermione looked at Marco and smiled.

"Thank you, really," she said. "Like Ron would say, that was brilliant."

"Any time," Marco smiled too, his wand back to his pocket again. "It looks like he does that a lot."

"Yes, he does," Hermione sighed, looking over Marco's shoulder at the form of Draco disappearing through the sea of students. "Far too many times in a day for my liking. Malfoy's just like that, I've learned how to deal with him in all these years. But today you were actually right on time."

"Yeah, I could notice you were about to break your silent treat," grinned Marco, taking in the sight of the girl before him: Hermione was a head shorter than him, with wavy, light brown hair and eyes of a darker shade, more like a chocolate color; her small nose was slightly freckled and her thin lips were pink. He would have never thought in a million years, that Hermione Granger, the know it all, bookworm, and every other thing he had heard about her, was this attractive.

"I'm proud to say I did one time and he ended up with a broken nose," Hermione said making Marco laugh. While he chuckled, she looked over her shoulder. "I should go now. Thank you, again."

"Aren't you going to tell me your name?" Marco called after her even though he already knew the answer, and when she turned now a few feet away from him, he catched her blushing slightly. "I'm Marco," he introduced himself with a smile once he was standing before her again.

"Hermione."

"So Hermione," Marco began, remembering his plans for the afternoon and rethinking them to fit Hermione into them. It was not hard, seeing as Hermione Granger was one books lover. "I've been looking for the library all morning and I just can't seem to find it. Would you mind showing me the way?"

He smiled charmingly, catching a slight blush again. She smiled back.

"I was actually heading there."