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. Also, all my works are down at the moment. They will all be rewritten one at a time, so do not fret!

Chapter Eight

"Again!"

Harry quickly learned not to give his professor any more advantages during their training sessions, especially since he was not keen to sporting more bruises than necessary. In effect, he learned to hone his reflexes early on during the first few weeks of the year. Now almost two months in, he could say that he had improved significantly, especially since his bruises were becoming less and less each week.

A giant slab of concrete was sent his way, to which Harry quickly responded with a bombarda spell that smashed into the slab and obscured both party's vision with the plume of dust. With a flick of his wand, the chunks of concrete was transfigured into spears of ice, which Harry banished towards his professor.

Harry didn't expect to win, but he hoped at least one of the ice spears hit its mark. However, the absence of any cries of pain or surrender made him even more vigilant. He knew how tricky Professor Gregorovitch was, and while his training was harsh, Harry knew that the man was not even trying.

As expected, a flock of bees had pushed through the still dusty divide between the two. The bees were angrily buzzing and were were already swarming around him. With a slash, Harry cleaved the oncoming bees into two group, and quickly mass transfigured them into to slabs of concrete. He placed both slabs in front of him on after another, just in time as a javelin was banished his way with such a force that it split the first slab into two, and was finally impaled three inches deep into the second slab.

Not wasting any second, Harry transfigured the broken slab into wolves, and sent them towards where the javelin was banished from, while the second slab of concrete and the javelin he transfigured into an aegis, which he positioned just to his left.

Without warning, a loud gong-like sound resounded from his transfigured aegis. Harry didn't even seemed fazed, as he concentrated any attacks from his right side. True to his prediction, his professor had sent another set of metal poles towards him.

The poles were black, and had very sharp ends to them. He had once made the mistake of getting hit by them, and thought he was a goner. It seems, however, that his professor always made sure to enchant any sharp objects he transfigured to hit like a truck, but not pierce the skin. The speed in which Petyr Gregorovitch transfigured and then enchant was faster than Harry could ever match, especially since from what he could see, it took the professor the same amount of time doing both while Harry could only transfigure in the same amount of time.

Harry twirled his wand, and instead of transfiguring the rods, he quickly turned them around and sent them back towards his professor. The dust seemed to be settling, and he could see the vague outline of Professor Gregorovitch just to his right. With a smirk, Harry watched as his Professor was hit by two of the rods he sent back. He could see that the Professor had wobbled a bit, before crumpling onto the floor.

"Got you!" Harry smirked, banishing away the rest of the dust cloud, only to find that the figure he had hit was not Professor Gregorovitch, but rather a mannequin made to resemble him.

Before he could say or do anything, he felt a blunt force hitting him from behind, and then everything turned black.

Petyr Gregorovitch smiled, as he vanished the aegis that Harry had ingeniously used to protect one side of his vision. The young man had gone through leaps and bounds in the past few weeks of training, and reminded the man of himself under Dumbledore's tutelage. Harry had adapted quickly to the simple exercise they had been doing as training. The task was simple, which was that the two casters had to retransfigure whatever their opponent sent towards them. A back and forth transfiguration duel, to define it much simpler. Harry had soaked it all in, and while they had encountered some issues of Harry sticking to a handful of transfiguration patterns, which was mostly the usage of small animals, they had been able to break through that quick enough. Now, Petyr was proud to say that his apprentice had become quite a formidable opponent, although still very predictable.

With a quick rennervate spell, Harry groggily sat up with a groan. With a sigh, he stood up and faced his professor, who was nodded at him, "Good work in predicting the delayed attack from the javelin, although your methods could still use some work."

"I thought that having the aegis to guard one of my sides would help, but it seems to have been the cause of my defeat, right?"

Petyr nodded, "Once I found out that you had a shield of some sort, I knew you would leave that side unprotected."

"But a mannequin? Really?" Harry whined, rubbing the back of his head. It was sore, and throbbing, which Harry knew was the precursor of another bruise. Saying that he had gotten used to it was an understatement, but every new bruise was a new lesson learned.

Petyr smirked, "You lost to it, didn't you?"

"I didn't lose to it!" Harry huffed, pushing his spectacles up, "I lost because of it."

"The point is, Harry, that you got complacent. Arrogant, even. In a real fight, not a duel mind you, but a fight, you would have lost your life right there."

Harry grimaced at that. Every time he lost, he was reminded how easy it was for his enemies to kill him. The thought bothered him, and caused some of his sleepless nights. Not because he worried for himself, but the thought of his friends being wholly unprepared compared to him. Harry knew he could defend himself quite well, and while he had not won against professor Gregorovitch at all in the past two months, he could say that he can beat anybody else who was less skilled than his battle transfiguration professor, which was around ninety-five percent of the Wizarding population. His friends, however skilled they are in their other classes, were within that ninety-five percent, which worried him.

Petyr could see the downward spiral that Harry was getting into, and added, "But your technique was new and unique, and using the dust cloud to your advantage was a good show." Rubbing his chin for a moment, Petyr continued, "I think we will begin a new lesson starting next week."

"A new lesson?"

"Yes," Petyr nodded, and started pacing, "Do you know how and why I caught you off-guard?"

Harry thought for a moment, "Well, you made me think that the mannequin was you. Once I got that down, I thought I had you and got complacent."

Petyr smirked, "Well, that's one of the reasons. Can you think of anything else?"

The misdirection was definitely what threw Harry off. He had never seen anyone, not even while dueling with Sirius or Remus, use a tactic like that. It was phenomenal in Harry's eyes, and something he was going to be using in the near future, given the opportunity. However, anything else was lost to him. Except for, "Movement. You moved."

"Yes. I did move, and that caught you by surprise, especially since I appeared where you didn't think I would be."

Harry nodded. Movement was key to winning, especially since a moving target was hard to hit. However, moving while transfiguring was not ideal from what he had read. It's hard enough trying to transfigure in the middle of a fight, and adding movement was almost impossible.

"No, it's not impossible, Harry," Petyr gave Harry a small smile, "I can see what you're thinking, Harry. As your friends have told you, I'm sure, that you wear your heart on your sleeve. Your emotions, they are something you will need to temper sooner or later."

Harry grimaced, "So movement while transfiguring. It seems impossible-I mean, it's highly frowned upon."

"What did we say about that word, Harry?"

"Magic defies impossible."

"Therefore it's possible. I can do it, so can you."

Harry looked at his professor, and could see the monumental trust he had for him. When they first started his training, most of everything he could do now he had deemed impossible. For one, it was impossible to be creative and fast while transfiguring, but he had defied that after a few days, especially since he was keen on not getting anymore bruises on him. Then, he had deemed it impossible to transfigure multiple elements together, such as the swarm of bees his professor had sent towards him. Yet, as he had shown today, it was possible. Hard, but possible.

"Are we starting again?" Harry asked. Even though the back of his head throbbed like a truck had hit him, he was eager to try again. It was what endeared him to Professor Gregorovitch, his trait of never giving up.

Petyr shook his head, checking the watch on his wrist, "No time, Harry. Your classmates should be getting ready to enter Hogwarts soon for dinner and the selection of champions."

Nodding, Harry quickly summoned his sling bag, and started exiting the room. Professor Gregorovitch always let him leave first, while he cleaned up their mess. The classroom they were using was inside the ship, and one of the unused ones during the afternoon. It was close to the room that was given to him for the duration of Durmstrang's stay at Hogwarts, so with a quick turn towards the right corridor, Harry opened the door to his room and threw his bag onto the small armchair beside his desk.

Walking into his bathroom, Harry took a quick shower that soothed some of his already aching muscles. Finishing his routine, he dried himself with a spare towel, and opened the door back to his room to reveal Aleksander and Viktor sitting on his bed and staring at him with a smirk.

Aleksander wolf-whistled at his half-naked torso and smirked, "Damn, Harry. Is this what battle transfiguration do to your body, or did you transfigure it yourself?"

Viktor laughed out loud, while Harry threw the towel that was wrapped around his waist at Aleksander. Viktor almost choked at seeing Harry do that, but sighed in relief when he saw Harry already wearing boxers beneath his towel.

"Did you expect a show, Viktor?" Harry smirked at the surly Bulgarian, while grabbing a fresh set of school robes that were hanging in the small closet beside his bed.

Viktor grunted, "I could look into a mirror for a better show, Potter."

Aleksander laughed, while Harry could only shake his head. It was true that out of all the boys in his year, Viktor was most probably the best in shape. Harry followed afterwards, but that was only because the rest of the boys in his year, or even in the Wizarding World, did not adhere much to exercise. Viktor maintained his physique due to Quidditch and his slight obsession with calisthenics. Harry, however, had always enjoyed morning runs around Durmstrang grounds, which subsequently maintained his body well.

Brushing off the stray lint that was on his cloak, Harry proceeded to usher everyone out of his room, and into the small study are that was provided by the school for the students. Just like Durmstrang castle, the ship they had arrived in had two halls for both boys and girls to stay in separately, which was connected by a small study area filled with desks, chairs, and even sofas adjacent a fireplace.

The whole Durmstrang contingent seems to have gathered around the front entrance. They were in two lines, one for the boys and one for the girls. Aleksander took the lead, while Harry was left to be the last person in the line.

As everyone seemed to settle down, Harry saw a scowling Karkaroff standing in front of the lines, flanked by the rest of the professors. Harry noticed most of the professor that had joined them had grim faces, most likely already thinking about the ramifications of the tournament. From the Highmaster's speech during the opening feast of Durmstrang, he had made sure to iterate that everyone in the seventh year is obligated to submit their name. Of course, Highmaster Karkaroff had made the provision for those seventh years who would like to opt out, but by the way he had addressed the issue, nobody dared opting out.

"Tonight, one of you will be chosen to represent the school," the Highmaster started, glowering at each student, especially those in front of the line. The pregnant pause carried a heavy weight, and Harry knew that the champion for Durmstrang will be in, not just of the glory of Durmstrang, but for the glory of Highmaster Igor Karkaroff.

"Once chosen, you will be given a new room, with an enchanted bookcase that can summon any book from our library back in Durmstrang. You it well. The glory of Durmstrang rests on your shoulders," the Highmaster finished gruffly, before sweeping around and spearheading their walk towards the Hogwarts Great Hall.

Harry just realized that while he was stuck training with Professor Gregorovitch, the rest of his year mates, his friends, were given leave to spend the day within Hogwarts. Harry had wanted to explore the old and mystical school, but had to find time later on to do it. For now, he'll settle with the stories he might have his friends tell him about the school and the students.

"The library is amazing, by the way, Harry," Kassandra, who had suddenly materialized behind the girl's line, whispered to him, "I remember you telling me to check it out for you."

Harry nodded, "How restricted is their restricted section?"

Kassandra had to stifle a snigger, "Simple wards, nothing a fourth year can't dismantle. Oh! Viktor also made a friend."

"Viktor? Friend?"

Viktor, who was right in front of Harry, coughed and cracked his knuckles, as though trying to intimidate Kassandra from telling Harry any further. Kassandra, for her part, only stuck her tongue out at Viktor, before continuing, "Yup! A bushy-haired girl. She's in seventh year as well, I think."

"Oh," Harry replied. Viktor did not make friends easy, especially since his fame followed him everywhere like a curse. There must've been something special about the girl to garner Viktor's interest.

"I think it's because most of the tables were full, and were staring and pointing at Vikky, here. The bushy-haired girl was the only one with open spots, and was weirdly not entranced by the broody charm of our resident Quidditch star."

Harry was about to reply, but was stopped as they finally arrived within the Great Hall. Everything was Halloween themed, and from what Harry can see, even some of the professors were into the celebration. As they sat down, he could see Dumbledore in his high-backed chair sporting what seems to be pumpkin-themed robes. The festivities didn't seem to reach to the woman sitting beside the Headmaster, Minerva McGonagall, if memory serves correct, who was casting a scowl at the smiling Headmaster.

The rest of the students at Hogwarts were also in a very festive mood, with the noisiest table being Gryffindor, where several pops, oohs and aahs were heard from. Harry was glad that they weren't placed to sit with that lot, even though the grim looking Slytherin students weren't any better at all.

Food started appearing soon after they had sat down, and everyone seemed to be enjoying the variety of Halloween themed items. Harry could not fully enjoy himself, however, and just ate the closest dishes to him. Halloween never was enjoyable for Harry, especially after he found out that it was the day that his parents were killed. However, he made sure to not be a downer, and tried his best to enjoy the day with his friends in mind.

After deserts were vanished away, Headmaster Dumbledore had the Goblet of Fire transported back from a different room into the Great Hall. The goblet was still burning bright, and become the only source of light as the room dimmed with a wave of the Headmaster's wand.

"Once chosen, each school champion shall proceed to the adjacent room and wait until the selection is over for further instructions," Dumbledore spoke in volumes, which echoed throughout the hall.

Dumbledore then approached the goblet, and caressed its sides. With a burst of flame, a parchment flew from the goblet and was caught by the Headmaster. Unfolding the still smoking small piece of parchment, the Headmaster's eyes rose before proclaiming, "The Champion of Durmstrang, Harry Potter!"

Harry was shell-shocked for a moment, before a grinning Aleksander and Kassandra patted him on the back and urged him to stand up. He could see Viktor, still surly, giving him a thumbs up, while Alanna just smiled at him encouragingly. Looking down the table, he saw Cadmus scowling at him, while the rest of his schoolmates clapped politely.

What caught him, however, were the whispers. The Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived? He could hear most of the Hogwarts students already creating their own story about how and why he was in Durmstrang. It seems he could hide from the limelight any longer, and instead had to embrace it, and eventually use it to his advantage. He was a snake in more than one facet, after all.

Smiling politely at the crowd, he stood up and started to walk down the hall to meet his Highmaster, who was suspiciously smiling widely at him. Reaching the dais, Harry was immediately turned towards the adjacent door, and went into it.

The room was filled with trophies, and from what he could see, some of them were very very old and dusty. It seemed like the perfect place to convene the champions of each school, reminding them of the glory they have achieved already by being chosen, and will achieve if they win.

Before Harry could look around further, the door opened once more to reveal a smiling Fleur. Harry smiled back, and they met in the middle with a hug, before Harry released her, "It seems you got chosen as well. I won't go easy on you just because you're a girl, you know."

Fleur smirked at Harry, and countered, "Don't underestimate me. You'd be surprised at what this girl can do!"

Their banter was disturbed once again by the door opening, revealing a smiling Hogwarts student whose robes were trimmed yellow, Hufflepuff, Harry assumed.

"Hi, name's Cedric," the boy had his hand out for a shake, which was taken immediately by Harry who smiled back, "Harry Potter."

Fleur took his hand as well, "Fleur Delacour."

Cedric seemed dazed for a moment, before his face reddened, "S-sorry, should've put my Occlumency up beforehand."

Just then, a huge bang of the door startled all three school champions. In came all of the Heads of the respective schools, as well as the tournament organizers. Mister Crouch, introduced during last night's meal, led the charge and gathered the champions in the middle of the room.

Highmaster Karkaroff stood behind Harry, both of his hand rested on Harry's shoulders. Immediately, Harry noted that he didn't like his Highmaster being too nice to him. It felt fake, and really unpleasant.

"Congratulations to our champions. From this day forward, you will be tested to your limits. The first task is set on November twenty-fourth. You will not be given any details about this task, and you are not permitted to ask for help from your professors and any tournament officials," Barty Crouch Senior swept his gaze at the three champions, before continuing, "Since these tasks will be testing your limits, the champions are exempt from any schoolwork and any exams. Do not take these tasks lightly. The Ministry has ensured that they are much safer than the previous tournaments, however, the tasks are still some of the most dangerous that a Witch or Wizard can face. They are, as one might say, life or death situations."

With a nod as a dismissal, Harry was steered away from the rest of the champions and out of the door by his Highmaster. Exiting the door, he could see Professor Gregorovitch standing by the wall, waiting for them. The Highmaster did not seemed pleased at this, but before Petyr could rescue Harry, the Highmaster leaned down and grunted, "You will do your best, or else."

The Highmaster stalked off, while Petyr urged Harry to walk beside him out of the Great Hall. There was a moment of silence between them, before Petyr broke it, "Did Igor give his 'or else' speech?"

"If you could call it a speech, professor."

Petyr laughed at that, "Well, it seems our training just got a little bit complicated, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry nodded. His training before was focused on trying to master battle transfiguration. Now, however, he had the added weight of succeeding in the Tri-Wizard tasks. Although deep down, all Harry wanted was to survive the whole way through.