The Serpent of Durmstrang

A/N: This is a rewrite of the Dragon of Durmstrang, where mistakes were made and are going to be corrected, while the story and writing will be improved. This is also my NaNoWriMo prep story, so all reviews are appreciated.

Chapter Three

The light blinded Harry for a moment as he opened his eyes. He could hear a lot of chattering just to his left. His body visibly relaxed as he heard Remus and Sirius in a heated argument about something or the other.

Relaxing his body, he could feel his lower back still pulsed with pain every so often. He tried remembering what had happened after the Death Eaters had quickly retreated, but could only remember flashes of red. Stunners. He shielded most of them that came from the front, but he was not mindful of his surroundings. They got him from behind, and it seems more than one stunner connected.

Groaning slightly, he tried moving his back to make himself more comfortable, and paid for it in the throbbing pain coursing all throughout his spinal region. The action was not unheard, and immediately, he heard shuffling from beside him, and he saw two familiar faces looming over his bed with concern.

"Sirius, Remus, glad you can make it," Harry smiled, but winced slightly after accidentally shifting his body weight just a bit to the left.

Sirius looked relieved, while Remus was ragged but smiled at him. They were both looking quite battled-out, with singe marks on both of their robes. Remus looked worse, especially since the full moon was due in two nights, and was already taking a toll on the man.

Sirius brushed a strand of his dark-brown locks, and started, "You had us worried there, pup."

"The aurors responded as fast as they could, but it seems they missed their mark."

"More so they got the wrong person," Sirius growled, glancing at Remus for his comment, and ending his glare at the two men stations just by the flap entrance of the tent.

Judging by what Harry can surmise, he was still within the camp grounds, and in a hastily erected medical tent. He was definitely not in a hospital, and from what he could gather, St. Mungo's would be the only one available, and from the incident last night, they would be at full capacity anyways.

The two men cowered from Sirius' glare, while Remus grimaced. It seems that the aurors were the ones who got him last night, quite literally. And the argument earlier was most likely Sirius and Remus reaming out the two aurors that were most likely stationed to protect him.

"Where's Fleur and her sister?" Harry quickly asked, remembering the blonde French and her little sister. If the aurors got him, then they should be safe.

Sirius smirked at him, "They're both at another tent, and it seems you still can't control that saving people thing of yours, hey?"

"I trie-"

Remus held his hand to stop Harry from trying to defend himself, "Harry, we're proud of you, and the way you handled three Death Eaters, from what we can gather from the two young women you saved."

"But what you did, it only reinforces the fact that we need to take your training more seriously," Serious replied solemnly, his mind already racing in different directions planning out Harry's training plan.

"You lived, Harry, that's all that matters," Remus ended, giving the young man a nod of encouragement.

Harry smiled slightly, "I held my own against them, but I was low in power really quick."

Sirius scratched his already grown stubble of a beard, "From what we were able to gather from Miss Delacour's testimony, you had thrown a lot of transfiguration during the battle. That would deplete your core really fast."

Thinking back to his fight, his rash transfiguration was definitely one of his downfall. Too much, and yielded too little of a result. Mostly, his mass transfiguration was a mere annoyance to the three Death Eaters, nothing more. They were perfect as distractions, but in a real fight, they were useless. Harry had to admit that most of what he did was at the spur of the moment, there were no real strategies involved in that fight. If push came to shove, Harry might've lost in the end. That thought scared Harry, but he steeled himself.

"I need more training," Harry started, shaking himself from his analysis of the fight, "I need real training."

Both Sirius and Remus smiled, they both knew that this would be the turning in the young man's life. And judging by what they know about Harry, he will want to be better prepared. Harry Potter was not someone who gave up when the going gets tough. He was a fighter, just like his parents.

"I'm guessing you want to learn to fight using transfiguration then? No more mock duels?" Sirius asked, already knowing the answer. Harry was proficient in the art, and it was stupid not to let him blossom in the field where he is most talented in. They had to work his strengths.

Harry nodded. Battle transfiguration, it was a field of expertise that not a lot of people go into. In fact, the field was so unpopular that there were only a handful of masters throughout the centuries. One of the most famous ones was Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the Hogwarts four. Another would be the first Highmistress of Durmstrang, Nerida Vulchanova. In current times, the only ones that came to mind were Albus Dumbledore, and the current Transfiguration instruction for Durmstrang, Petyr Gregorovitch.

Battle transfiguration was unpopular, not because it was a useless mastery, but rather for its supreme difficulty in learning. Transfiguration, while easy for most witches and wizards, paled in comparison to some of the feats a battle transfiguration master could do. It not only used speed, but also required a solid state of mind, and a high amount of concentration in the heat of battle. Creativity, while not important in regular transfiguration, also played a significant role in battle transfiguration. All of these traits are needed to become a successful battle transfiguration master, a feat done by seemingly only one individual every generation. It was Albus Dumbledore in his time, Petyr Gregorovitch preceded him, under Dumbledore's tutelage, and finally it seems Harry himself is ready to take the bull by the horns.

Silence reigned the room. Sirius stared hard at the tent flaps, while Remus' face scrunched in concentration while keeping himself from fidgeting too much from the constant anxiety he was feeling due to the coming full moon. After a solid minute or two, Sirius looked towards the two stationed aurors and asked them to give them a few moment alone.

As the two aurors reluctantly left the tent, Sirius nodded to Remus, who immediately pointed his wand at the entrance and cast his most powerful silencing charm.

"We didn't want to burden you with this, Harry," Sirius started, getting a nod from Remus to continue, "But you need to know what's happening out there, especially after last night."

Harry stayed as quiet as possible, even though a huge part of him wanted to burst out into question mode.

A short silence, before Remus cut in, "Things have been set into motion, Harry. And last night was just the grand opening."

"Death Eaters," Harry replied curtly, already knowing the answer. It wasn't as if he was frightened, nor intimidated. Rather, he knew well enough the price to pay for another war with these blood supremacist. Family, friends, and everyone else were cut down all in the name of supremacy.

Sirius nodded grimly, "These disappearances across Europe is just the beginning. There have been whispers underground, people passing notes and convening secret meetings at the back of inconspicuous bars and pubs across the continent."

"They're recruiting again, Harry," Remus continued, his face already betraying his calm demeanour, "The werewolves across the continent are gathering, and it isn't good, especially since Greyback is leading the packs once again."

"Greyback? Isn't he the one who-" Harry started, but was cut off by Remus nodding, his gaze hardening.

Sirius coughed, "What we're trying to say is that: something is brewing, something that we believe to be another coming of a Dark Lord. The symbol last night was just a stamp to our already full-fledged theory."

Harry remembered the Dark Mark floating in the cool midnight sky, glowing menacingly green, looming over anybody within the vicinity. It was the mark that put fear into the hearts of almost everyone, and a very powerful tool that demoralized the Wizarding World during Lord Voldemort's campaign. It was also the same mark that caused the Death Eaters attacking him and the two ladies to flee rather quickly.

"So Lord Voldemort is rising once more? I thought he's dead?" Harry asked, his fingers unconsciously tracing his lightning-shaped scar.

"We never found a body, Harry. And that man, or whatever he was at that point, was known to have dabbled in the Dark Arts further than anyone in the annals of history. It wouldn't surprise me that he did not truly die that day."

Harry stared at Sirius, then glanced at a silent Remus, before withdrawing into his own thoughts. His parents, they had died for him, and quite possibly halted Lord Voldemort's rise to power for almost seventeen years. The world owes his parents so much more, and he was going to make sure he will not let his parent's sacrifice be in vain.

"Okay, okay," Harry whispered to himself, before looking up at the two adults, "All of this...it means I just need to prepare. I need to be ready for when the fight comes looking for us, for me."

Remus nodded, "You're likely going to be a target sooner or later. There are those in Lord Voldemort's inner circle, still loose I might add, that hold a grudge against you. Greyback being one of them."

"I'll be putting that dog six feet under if he harms a hair on Harry," Sirius almost barked out, to the amusement of Harry.

"Oh!" Harry quickly remembered a very important piece of last night's encounter, "I heard names last night! Malfoy, and McNair!"

Remus shook his head, while Sirius explained, "We tried. Trust me we tried very hard, especially with the Veritaserum testimony that Fleur Delacour gave on your behalf. But you have to understand, Harry, that Wizarding Britain is backwards. It's still ruled by the elites, and both those names are almost immune to any persecution at this point it time."

"You mean they lined the right pockets last election, then?"

Sirius nodded grimly, "Fudge is still an oaf. A very rich oaf nowadays, but an oaf nonetheless."

Harry shook his head. One of the thing Sirius was preparing him for was his eventual resurfacing in British Wizarding society, and one such lessons involved the massive amounts of bribery happening within Wizengamot halls. Buying and selling votes was not uncommon, and Harry refused to take part in it when the time came. His great grandfather, Henry Potter, had been a very influential Lord Potter, and a very hated man by the pureblood elitist for his lobbying support for Wizarding intervention during the First World War of the muggles. Harry wanted to share in his great grandfather's successes, and was eager to learn from Sirius about the comings and goings of politics, to better prepare him for when he takes up his mantle in the Wizengamot chambers as the next Lord Potter.

A commotion disturbed the otherwise peaceful gathering of the three men. Sirius immediately had his wand at the ready, joined by Remus less than a second afterwards. Nodding, Sirius went outside to check up on the commotion. Remus took a stance in front of Harry's bed, to shield him from any spell fire that might come from the entrance.

It took a total of thirty seconds for Sirius to poke his head in with a grin plastered on his face, "You have a visitor, Harry."

Remus, from the smirk, already knew who it was, and quickly took a few steps and exited the tent, but made sure to wink at Harry in the process.

Harry was confused for a moment, and his thoughts immediately thought of his friends, most likely Kassandra, visiting. That would cause Sirius' smirk, and Remus' wink. Both of them knew what had happened between the two friends, and both men actually encouraged Harry to try it out with the lovely Romanova heiress, but Harry digressed. It felt weird, since Kassandra had been a very close friend, more like sister, to him over the past six years in Durmstrang. It just didn't feel right.

As the flaps of the tent open once more, Harry had to stop himself from being smiling too widely. Fleur Delacour, now clad in a rose-patterned snow white sundress, walked in with a shy smile on her face. Harry could not take his gaze away from her face, with her almost too perfectly shaped nose, and her pinkish full lips. Her cheeks were slightly pinkish, while her hair was neatly let loose, cascading down her shoulders and resting mid-back.

Fleur approached Harry, and finally took a seat on the stoll just beside his makeshift hospital bed. Their eyes locked onto each other, before Fleur shook her head, and started, "I just wanted to personal thank you for rescuing my sister and I yesterday night. If it weren't for you…"

She left those words hanging, trying not to visualize what might have happened last night if it weren't for Harry's timely intervention. Harry himself saw the shift in mood, and immediately sat up, albeit slowly.

He looked at Fleur and gave her a small smile, "I did what I thought was right, Fleur. Besides, you never introduced me to that lovely lady you were with last night! How rude!"

Fleur giggled, which brought a wider smile on Harry's face. What Fleur and her sister had gone through was not a laughing matter, yet it also did not do well to dwell on things that might have happened.

"Gabrielle, my little sister. And she's ten years younger than you, pervert!"

Harry looked dumbstruck for a moment, before he was shoved lightly my a smiling Fleur. Harry smiled back, with a glint of Marauder mischief in his eye, "I'll just have to settle for her older sister then."

Fleur's face reddened like a tomato, at which point Harry couldn't hold it in anymore and had to laugh at her predicament. She glared playfully at Harry before they settled back down.

Harry observed the girl, and could see that despite appearances, her eyes still had dark rings under them. She most likely had not slept well last night, and for good reason.

"You know, I didn't expect you to be here," At Fleur's curious gaze, Harry continued quickly, I just thought you'd be back in France now."

"My papa and mama are here, and they thought it best I recover for the night before we leave for home," Fleur replied, her eyes wandering around the room, "And I wanted to thank you personally for what you did for us, it's only polite."

Harry nodded, "Did the aurors give you a hard time?"

"My papa made sure they didn't."

"I'm guessing your father is high up in the French Ministry?"

Fleur nodded, "He's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in France, but even he couldn't do anything about the men involved last night."

"Malfoy and McNair are both hiding under the skirts of the current Minister for Magic," Harry sighed, as he ran his hand in his hair, "They won't be easily taken out by our accusations."

Fleur nodded, and once more a comfortable silence reigned between them. From Fleur's point-of-view, the men who came after her and her sister should have been carted off to prison as soon as they had her testify under Veritaserum. Yet, it seems the legal system has failed once again. While France had their form of corruption, it seems that Britain's own tops the charts. Harry's thoughts ran along the same lines, and his fist curled in anger.

"We'll make sure they pay for what they tried to do to you and your sister, Fleur. I promise."

Fleur looked towards the raven-haired young man in front of her. The one who had put his life on the line for her and Gabrielle. Selflessly, and without any inclination for some sort of reward. He had done it because it was right. She cannot help but feel an admiration for the young man, and could not stop the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach as he gazed back at her with the most determined expression.

Harry gazed into her cerulean-blue eyes, and could not help but admire her beauty. Her Veela heritage ran through, but there was something else about her. Just because she was a Veela, and a beautiful woman, did not mean she could not defend herself last night. In fact, from what Harry can remember, she did not carry a wand as well.

"Fleur, about last night," Harry started, "You didn't have a wand with you, am I right?"

Fleur sighed, "The men ambushed me and my sister as we were running through the tents for safety. They disarmed me and broke the wand, before they gave chase."

"So, you'll need a new wand then?"

Fleur nodded at that, "I should be getting one soon, but I'll need to go back to the Veela conclave for it."

The Veela wasn't sure why she had to share that piece of information, but it just suddenly burst from her lips without thought. Later on, Fleur would attribute it to the calming presence of Harry, and how easy it was to talk to him.

Harry was about to ask about the existence of Veela conclaves when Sirius walked into the tent, and smirk at the two, "Miss Delacour, your father is outside waiting for you, if you're done with my godson, of course."

Fleur blushed at the comment, before standing up and brushing her dress. She had almost lost track of time, and their portkey back to France was probably going very soon. She started walking towards the entrance, but quickly looked back, "Can I owl you sometime, Harry?"

Harry smiled brightly, a blush spreading across his face, "Of course, if I can owl back?"

With a nod, and a brilliant smile, Fleur left the tent. This left a smirking Sirius eyeing his godson. Harry could already see the barrage of questions that Sirius had for him, and could only groan as Remus came into the tent and promptly asked, "So, did you show her why you're called the Serpent of Durmstrang?"

This made Sirius laugh out loudly, while Harry groaned even louder, trying to bury himself in his sheets. The last few weeks of his summer vacation won't be fun at all, especially with these two buffoons trying to set him up with Fleur Delacour of all people.

Calming himself, and wiping a stray tear, Remus was finally able to pat Sirius on the back and stare at Harry seriously, "I took the time to mail your instructor, Petyr Gregorovitch about your interest in battle transfiguration. Hopefully he'll reply soon, and start your training just a little bit before your seventh year starts."

Harry nodded. His last few weeks will definitely be interesting. If not for the probable battle transfiguration lessons, then for Fleur's first letter.