Chapter 2 – A Meeting in Vienna

Harry found the letters Dudley had mentioned dumped in a haphazard pile next to the sink, mere inches away from a dripping tap that was no doubt the result of Dudley's lackadaisy approach to tidying up after himself. Harry snatched the letters from the jaws of certain dampness and looked over them.

They weren't just any letters. Turning them over in his hands, Harry saw that one of them was sealed with the official wax seal of the European Duelling Circuit. That one had to be his invitation to the Summer Tournament, whilst the second was sealed with an eagle and a Latin inscription too small to read. Flight school, Harry assumed.

Harry opened the Circuit letter first. The Summer Tournament would be held before the flight school, so Harry wanted to know what his summer was going to look like… outside of trials and visits to Spellman and Spellman.

Harry scanned through the letter in search of the interesting bits. It was all the standard sort of stuff, congratulations and a bit of history, an introduction to the tournament and all that nonsense, but what Harry was really interested in were the dates of the tournament.

And how to make arrangements to attend. Whether he'd have to go through the Ministry to arrange an International Floo – assuming muggles could even use a Floo to begin with – and where to stay. He'd have to ask his aunt to go as well, Harry supposed, since it seemed like the sort of thing she wouldn't be happy for him to attend alone.

Ah, there we are!

…the Summer Tournament will commence 15 July 1995. Competitors may arrive at Hexenhochburg Prachtgarten from noon on 14 July. International portkeys will be arranged with the relevant governing bodies in your country and sent out one day before their activation. All competitors may bring up to three guests.

Harry didn't bother to read the rest. It just looked like a standard farewell, anyway, nothing at all important. But up to three guests… well, he would have to take either Petunia or Vernon, and of the two Petunia was more likely as Vernon had to work. That left two spots, and the only person he could really think of who might want to fill it was Dudley.

And Harry wasn't entirely sure Dudley would want to, or that Harry even wanted him there in the first place. It didn't seem like Dudley's sort of thing.

Ah, we can cross that road later.

Hexenhochburg Prachtgarten. Some castle in Austria, Harry remembered, and the headquarters of the European Duelling Circuit. Harry hadn't been sure he even wanted to attend the tournament, not after what had happened, and yet with the invitation literally in his hands… it was very tempting. More than tempting – he wanted to go, and he wanted to win. And even if he didn't, it wouldn't have been fair to stop Tracey going, since their invitation was contingent on the other party attending.

"Sirius was right," Harry muttered. It would do him some good to get out of the house, stop thinking about everything that had gone wrong. Do something that was fun. And on reflection, Harry supposed Sirius definitely knew what he was talking about there, having been cooped up and in hiding for the past year.

And that after Azkaban which was surely worse than anything Harry had experienced.

Next, Harry tackled the letter sealed with a wax image of an eagle, the one he assumed was from the flight school. That was always held later in the summer, at the end of July, in Rome. Harry scanned the letter for the various bits and pieces he would need, and then put both of them in his pocket once he was satisfied with it all.

There were other letters there too – one from Blaise, another from Tracey – but Harry could look over those later. They didn't need him to ask his aunt anything, anyway, so he could tackle them at his leisure.

Harry made his way back into the living room where Petunia was quietly tidying up around Dudley and the PlayStation.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry said. "I've just had my invitations to the Summer Tournament and flight school. I was just wondering if you'd want to go—I need a guardian with me, see. If you don't want to I suppose I could ask Gwen and Colin if they'd mind me tagging along, but—"

Petunia stopped, hovered just over a share-sized packet of crisps next to Dudley.

"Of course I'll take you," she said. She paused. "Well, I'll go with you—I suppose it's going to be something magical that will take us there. Or we could ask your uncle—he did enjoy your duelling, after all."

"Brilliant!" Harry said. "They're going to send a portkey along on the fourteenth of July. No, er, the thirteenth—the fourteenth is when we're supposed to arrive. And I'm allowed to bring three guests, as well."

"Oh, how lovely," said Petunia. "Dudley, did you hear that? We can all go!"

Dudley grunted. It sounded automatic, like he hadn't even heard or processed what Petunia had said.

"It's in Austria," Harry said. "Vienna, I think. Or not exactly, but near enough. And, er, later on in July I've got flight school as well. So I'd need someone to go with me there, too… these are part of the prizes I won from the… well, you know. I've got the letters here." Harry crossed the living room to hand the letters to his aunt. She read through them quickly.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Petunia said, smiling. "Although perhaps your uncle won't come—we've booked a holiday to Greece for August and I don't think he can spare the holiday time for all three. But don't worry about anything—God knows you could do with a little bit of fun with everything that's happening. Something normal for once." She handed the letters back to him.

"Nice one!" Harry said. "I'm going to go owl Tracey—she'll have just had her letters, too!" That may even have been the reason she'd sent a letter already. She was always prompt with that sort of thing.

And Harry needed to warn her about the letters from Spellman and Spellman that would soon be making their way over to Wales for her parents.

Harry left his aunt tidying up and Dudley playing the PlayStation. When he returned to his bedroom he looked over Tracey's letter and then wrote a swift reply, half about the Summer Tournament and half about the impending letter from his advocate, and then another to Ernie.

Once Harry was done with all that, he grudgingly got out his summer homework and made a start on it. With the invitations to the Summer Tournament and to flight school having arrived, homework seemed much more urgent than it had done before Harry had committed to a fortnight abroad. Perhaps even a whole month, if Petunia and Vernon really had booked a holiday to Greece. Between that and the trial, Harry didn't think he'd have nearly enough time for homework if he didn't knuckle down.

In the few spare moments Harry had he alternated between homework and duelling prep. Or, pre-prep, anyway, since he couldn't cast any spells while at home. But that was fine since he could still practise his duelling stances and wand movements even if he couldn't actually cast. It hadn't been long since the Pariturium had ended, but he felt like the Summer Tournament would be a step up from that, and he wanted to be ready.

And it was excellent at getting Harry out of his own head. Left to his own devices Harry felt sure that he'd spend far too much time dwelling on what the Malfoys and Voldemort were up to, and that was unhelpful. More than unhelpful – Harry thought it was probably quite unhealthy.

It wasn't all doom, gloom, and duelling prep in his room, however, as Harry was in regular contact with his friends. Ernie and Tracey had assured him their parents would provide character references for him, and Tracey had been keeping Harry totally up to date with her own duelling practise. Harry even received some more letters from Blaise, who was well-known for being quite distant in the summers. Harry supposed that was because of how the previous year had ended – learning Voldemort was still about would change anyone's habits.

One afternoon when Harry was working on his homework for Arithmancy he received a letter right to his bedroom window. Rodrigo, Sirius's brightly coloured post bird, tapped against the glass to be let in. Harry took the letter eagerly and offered the bird some treats, but he didn't take any. He took a little of Agrippa's water and then flew away again before Harry had the chance to make a fuss of him.

Harry opened the letter.

Harry,

Dumbledore's asked me to come with you to the Duelling Circuit's Summer Tournament. Flight school as well. Don't worry about the logistics—it's all sorted. I'll apparate to your house on the 14th about five minutes or so before the portkey activates.

Padfoot

Harry read over the letter once more to make sure he'd got it right. He certainly hadn't expected Sirius to be coming with him to the Summer Tournament or flight school. Polyjuice again, Harry assumed. Well, whatever the plan was, Harry was happy for it. It would be nice to have Sirius there at the Summer Tournament and even outside of that, having a fully qualified adult wizard on hand would be great. No doubt there would be awkward situations otherwise given how wizards usually reacted towards muggles.

Harry assumed Sirius wouldn't be going as Dudley, since Petunia would want Dudley to accompany them to the competition. It would be a kind of extra holiday, Harry supposed, for all of them – even if Harry would spend most of it doing his own thing. So that could be nice enough.

Soon enough it was the fourteenth of July and Harry was running around gathering every last thing he'd need for the Summer Tournament. He had packed a full set of casual summer robes as well as his sport robe, although he'd heard it was quite warm in Austria even in the summer, so he took some muggle shorts and t-shirts with him as well. Once all of that was packed Harry realised he didn't have any space for his duelling books and folios so he had to unpack everything and stick it all in again.

That was, however, much less work than his aunt had to do for packing her and Dudley's things for the week, so Harry thought he'd got off easy there. In fact, when it came to the morning of their departure, Harry was sat in the living room with his bags and his wand and the portkey, waiting.

And waiting. Dudley wanted to bring his GameBoy, although Harry wasn't sure it would work at the castle. He'd said as much, but Dudley wanted to try anyway, and Harry couldn't really blame him. It wasn't as if there would be all that much for him to do at Hexenhochburg Prachtgarten. But Petunia was more concerned with gathering the last few bits of Dudley's clothes and the few bits of summer homework he'd told her he hadn't bothered doing yet. Although Harry didn't think Dudley would want to do it while in Austria, lack of things to do or no.

So Harry sat in the living room alternating between watching the television and glancing anxiously at the clock. Sirius hadn't arrived yet, and he needed to be there before they could get going as the portkey would activate at dead on one o'clock, and it was near enough time to go. At least Harry could grab his aunt and Dudley if the time dragged on a bit… but Sirius was wherever Sirius lived. Somewhere not at all within easy reach of Harry, at any rate.

As Harry switched his gaze between the clock and the TV there was a sharp knock at the door. The back door, which was… well, more than unusual. There was a gate leading to the back of the house but nobody ever used it, especially to knock the door.

Which meant…

Sirius! Harry thought. He shot up from the sofa and made his way to the back garden. A tall blond man stood behind the door, visible through the patterned glass. He didn't look like anyone Harry knew or had seen before, and with Voldemort and the trial coming up, that was worrying. Or would be worrying if Harry wasn't expecting Sirius to come disguised, but Moody had been shouting about vigilance and all that bollocks all year in lessons, so it did give Harry reason to pause.

"Er, who are you?" Harry asked. "Just, you know, checking. Before I let you in."

"Good boy," the man – Sirius? – said. "Always check. It's me, Padfoot. Or as you already know, your uncle Dave. Here to come with you to watch you at the Summer Tournament."

Harry nodded. That was good enough. Padfoot wasn't a nickname known to very many people, after all, and although Harry supposed it could be Wormtail at the door, that seemed unlikely given Dumbledore's protections around the house.

So Harry opened it to let Sirius in.

"Nice one," Sirius said. "How d'you like the new look? It's some muggle bloke Dumbledore got hairs from. Not too shabby—nowhere near as handsome as me, of course, but he's easy on the eyes."

"It's weird looking at you when you're someone else," Harry said. "Although it's not as weird as when you were Dudley, so, you know…"

"That wasn't my favourite look," Sirius agreed.

Harry shut the door behind him and showed him into the living room.

"We're just waiting on my aunt and Dudley," Harry explained as he gestured for Sirius to sit down. "I've been ready ages, but Dudley 'lost' his summer homework and my aunt wants him to take it with us."

Sirius nodded.

"Fair enough. Hopefully they won't be late—the portkey's coming on soon, isn't it?"

Harry glanced at the clock. Sirius was right. They didn't have very long at all. But Harry knew that his aunt abhorred being late to anything, let alone something as important as a one-time-only portkey. Not even Dudley's loudest tantrums could dissuade her from her desire for punctuality, especially when there was someone at the other end noting down who had arrived and who hadn't. So Harry wasn't overly worried about that, although Dudley could definitely manage to throw up some sort of obstacle if he wanted.

"I'll just go and shout up that you've arrived," Harry said. He left Sirius sitting in the living room and ran halfway up the stairs. No sense going all the way up and getting dragged into something pointless. "Aunt Petunia?" Harry shouted. "Sirius is here! Er, we're to call him Dave. But, anyway, he's here, and the portkey activates soon, so…"

No response from Petunia, although Harry heard a loud, dull thud that could only be Dudley. Then, after a few moments, Petunia's voice.

"We won't be long at all," she said. "We've just got to find Dudley's history folder and we'll be right down!"

Harry shook his head. There was no point even trying to find the folder, as Harry knew Dudley had purposefully left it behind at Smeltings before coming home for the summer so that he wouldn't have the resources to do his homework, but he said nothing. As long as it didn't result in Harry missing his portkey he didn't much care about whether Dudley did his homework or not.

Dimly, Harry heard Dudley say something or other to Petunia, although Harry couldn't quite make out what he'd said. It was probably a lie about his folder, anyway.

Harry left them to it.

He rejoined Sirius in the living room and sat himself down in Vernon's chair. It was the comfiest, even if it did have a big dent in it.

"They shouldn't be long," Harry said. "My aunt's just trying to find Dudley's summer homework. Then we can go."

Sirius just nodded.

"Uncle at work, then?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "He was going to take the day off so he could see us go, but my aunt said there's no point. So he went in. To be honest, I think he's looking forward to having the house all to himself, not that he's said." But it made sense, since Vernon liked nothing more than to vegetate after work in front of the TV with some sort of liquor… which was something Petunia didn't approve of at all.

"You're all ready for the tournament, then?" Sirius asked, changing the subject. "Got everything you need?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, I've got my wand and all my sports kit, and I've brought my duelling folios… but there's not much else I can do." Harry shrugged. "I don't know that there's anything else I could even bring. Tracey's brought all her stuff as well."

"How do you feel about your chances?" Sirius asked. "You were great in the Triwizard. Reckon you've got it in you to win again?"

"We've only just finished the Pariturium. So… I reckon we've got a good chance," Harry said, hoping he didn't come across cocky or arrogant. He thought they really did have a good chance at it, especially fresh from a win as they were. True, many of the competitors would be different from the ones they'd faced in the Pariturium, and more experienced besides, but it wasn't as if Harry and Tracey were complete beginners either. They'd won a proper international tournament.

"I think so too," Sirius said. "And even if you don't, well, it's going to be a great experience anyway. A nice bit of a holiday! A good bit of summer fun."

Sirius probably intended it as a positive thing, but all Harry could think about was that it was a holiday away from the media circus surrounding the trial. And the end of the Triwizard Tournament. A brief distraction before Harry would be plunged in the tricky and treacherous world of the Wizengamot.

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry said. He shrugged. "I've never been to Austria before. Or Italy."

"Me either," Sirius said. "My parents—I—well, we only ever went to France," he said. "And mostly we just stayed here."

Harry suppressed his curiosity. Sirius didn't really talk about his parents much, and Harry knew he'd moved out young to live with Harry's grandparents, and the whole subject seemed raw still. Even more than a decade later. So Harry left it alone.

"Well, I'm sure we'll have a bit of time to go do some exploring," Sirius said after a few moments of silence. "I know you'll be busy with the Summer Tournament," he continued, "and then with flight school, but I reckon we can fit some stuff in. I'll talk with your aunt about it, see what she wants to do as well."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but his attention was drawn by Petunia appearing at the living room door. She was dressed smartly, in a long, flowy dress and a wide-brimmed hat, and she held in one hand a handbag. Behind her was Dudley, lugging her and his own suitcases with him. He looked angry.

Petunia must have found his homework.

"Now we're all ready," Petunia said, smiling. "Hello, Sirius—or should I call you Dave now? Even in here?" She lowered her voice. "Harry, do we know if they're—listening—in?"

Harry shook his head.

"No, we're not being monitored like that. They called off the aurors, remember? But when we're outside we should say Dave." He glanced at Sirius for confirmation. "Right? It's safer that way, isn't it?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, definitely. So, I'm Harry's uncle Dave—on the father's side. Distant uncle. So just call me Dave and we'll all be set."

"Wonderful," said Petunia.

Dudley just grunted.

"When is the portkey, Harry?" asked Petunia. "Do we have enough time for a cup of tea, do you think, or—"

"Definitely not," Harry said quickly, keen to shut that idea down as soon as possible. 'A cup of tea' would turn into 'just putting in a load of washing', which would turn into 'just doing a little tidy-up', and then they would miss the portkey and have to arrange another one. Assuming that was even possible. And then they might even have to go through the Ministry, which would mean Sirius's disguise would be put under even more scrutiny, and maybe even anti-Polyjuice spells or the like. So there was absolutely no way Harry was allowing Petunia to go make a cup of tea.

Not even a glass of water. They'd have more than enough time in Austria for all of that.

"We've got about two minutes until it's ready," Harry said, although it was closer to five. Still, no sense risking it. If Petunia didn't start doing something else then surely Dudley would try to, whether it was 'a couple of minutes' on the PlayStation or something else.

Dudley sighed loudly and sunk into the sofa.

"What's a portkey, anyway?" he asked. "Mum didn't explain."

"Er, it's like…" said Harry. He pulled the portkey out of his pocket. Unlike those created by the Ministry of Magic, the European Duelling Circuit's portkey to the Summer Tournament in Hexenhochburg Prachtgarten was no mere bit of rubbish. It was a little figurine featuring a duellist in one of the more common duelling stances and was just large enough for four people to hold at once. "They can be any shape, but this one is, well, this shape," Harry said. He shrugged. "We grab hold of it and then when it activates we sort of… er… well, it teleports us to where we need to go." That was the simplest way of explaining it to Dudley, anyway. Harry did understand the theory behind how the portkey's whirling vortex worked, but it would be lost on Dudley and Petunia.

Dudley eyed the statuette warily.

"That little thing is a teleportation machine?" he asked. "And it just—like you don't even have to do anything, it just takes us there?"

Harry shrugged.

"I mean, yeah? It's magic. They put a spell on it and then at the right time it activates and takes us where we want to go. But it only works once, so that's why we've all got to be on time. And it's really hard getting portkeys, isn't it, Sirius? Er, Dave? So we've really got to just get this one."

Sirius nodded.

"Yeah. International portkeys especially—loads more rules about them. And, honestly, I don't fancy our chances at getting me through proper Ministry border checks like this. So… I'd appreciate being on time as well."

"So if I just don't touch it," continued Dudley, "then it won't take me? And then I don't have to go watch the stupid tournament thing?"

"Er… well… technically, yeah," Harry said.

"Don't even joke about that, Dudley," said Petunia carefully. "We're all going. It's going to be a nice cultural experience. You've never seen magical places before, so this will be very exciting!"

"Doubt it," Dudley said immediately. "Wizards don't have TV, I can't take my PlayStation, none of my friends are there, and Harry said my GameBoy probably won't work either. And it's not like I can tell anyone else about what I see anyway, so what's the point?"

Harry supposed that was fair, although he wasn't especially inclined to be charitable if Dudley messed up the portkey. Harry was going to the Summer Tournament. He hadn't wanted to a few weeks ago, but now that he was sat waiting for the portkey, he was adamant he was going to attend. If not for his own sake, for Tracey's.

"Well, darling," said Petunia, "sometimes experiences are worth having just for themselves and not for what you can tell other people about them. And I'm quite sure we'll all have a wonderful time in Austria—and if not, there's always Rome the week after. Don't you want to see all the Roman things there?"

"I suppose," Dudley said. "I was more interested in Greece, since at least there's a pool and we'll have normal stuff about. But Rome is just more wizard stuff."

All of that was perfectly fair reasoning. The next fortnight really was all about Harry and Harry's things, so he could see why Dudley was being a little shit about it. Harry wouldn't have minded if Dudley stayed home, but he knew Petunia didn't want to leave Dudley unsupervised. Although she pretended otherwise, Harry knew she knew that Dudley was prone to less than stellar behaviour. So that wasn't an option.

"You know, I've heard that the Summer Tournament has amazing food," Sirius said. "And there's elf service for all guests staying at the castle, so you get your own personal butler. Whenever you want, just call and they're there. So…"

That seemed to perk Dudley up. He sat there nodding.

"And we've brought enough batteries?" Dudley asked Petunia.

"Yes, darling—lots."

"Well… I suppose…"

"Portkey's about to go!" Harry said. "Everyone grab on. And, er, keep hold of your stuff—it's probably going to be rough."

Harry held out the statue and grabbed it at the base, his bag in his other hand. Portkeys were rough enough as it was, and Harry assumed the international variant would be even worse. One by one Sirius, Petunia, and Dudley grabbed hold of the statue, and when the minute came, the portkey yanked them all through its swirling vortex.

After entirely too long spent whirling across time and space Harry, his aunt and Dudley, and Sirius were spat out at the other end. They emerged into an immaculate and grand entryway with dozens of other people. Portkeys from all over Europe had activated all at once to deposit their charges in Hexenhochburg Prachtgarten's grand entryway.

If the rest of the castle was anything like the entryway, Harry expected it to be absolutely massive. And well turned out, too, as the floors were polished marble. Elaborate and ornate woodwork graced the walls and ceilings, along with detailed paintings. Murals and frescoes, all in vivid colours. No expense had been spared on the ornamentation, with what looked to be several suits of solid gold armour resting in alcoves around the room.

Amidst it all were the dozens upon dozens of voices, all joined in a cacophonous chorus as the arrivals all started talking to one another.

Sirius whistled.

"Nice bit of castle, this," he said. "I wonder what our rooms will be like."

"Yeah, it looks great," muttered Harry, casting his gaze around the cavernous room in search of where to go and what to do next. He saw no obvious place to go at first, at least until he looked again and realised people were making their way towards a little kiosk that had been set up further into the entrance hall. "I think we've got to go this way," Harry said, pointing so that his aunt and Sirius could see. Harry picked up his bag and started off in that direction, although Sirius reached out a hand to stop him.

"Hang on a second," Sirius said. He nodded towards Harry's aunt and cousin. "Your aunt and Dudley are still, er… recovering… from the portkey."

Dudley looked as if he were about to be violently sick, everywhere, and Petunia was unsteady on her feet. A rather large queue was forming by the kiosk, so Harry didn't want to dawdle too long, but it didn't seem as if he had much choice. He'd likely need Petunia or Sirius to sign in since he was underage, and Harry did feel apprehensive about leaving his aunt and Dudley alone in a foreign wizards' castle, so he stuck around and waited.

As Harry watched the queue grow larger and larger and more attendees joined it he heard a familiar voice call his name.

"Harry!" Tracey said. "I'm so glad I found you—now we can check in together!"

Harry turned in the direction of her voice and saw Tracey, along with her dad, Colin, and her youngest brother, Ffransis.

"I'm just waiting for my aunt and Dudley to get better from the portkey," Harry explained with a little gesture. "They got a bit ill." He shrugged. "Oh, this is my uncle Dave," Harry said. "Dave, this is my friend Tracey, and her father Colin. Er, and her little brother, Ffransis."

Colin strode forward and offered his hand for Sirius to shake. Harry left them to it and spoke to Tracey instead.

"Oh, it's fine," Tracey said. "It's probably better to wait a bit anyway—that queue looks awful! No point getting caught in it yet anyway. Have you seen anyone else from Hogwarts arrive yet? I mean, they must be here already, since the portkeys were all set for the same time, but I haven't seen anyone."

Harry shook his head. He hadn't, although to be fair, he hadn't looked. But he knew there weren't all that many of them anyway – just him and Tracey; Cedric Diggory and Jasper Flickey; Fred Weasley; and Hermione Granger.

"No, but I bet Diggory and Flickey are here somewhere. Can't imagine they'd skip it. Or Weasley," Harry said. Granger was harder to place, especially if her parents were hesitant to attend an all-wizard event with her. "I suppose we'll see in a bit."

"Yeah," agreed Tracey. "I can't wait to get started! Did you know we get our own private practise room? Isn't that cool? So nobody can watch us and learn what we're going to be doing. I've been so excited since I got the invitation all I've been doing is practising my sequences. It's been driving Dad mad since I've got home!"

"At least you've been able to practise the actual spells," Harry said. "I've had to make do with just the movements."

"I'm really lucky that Nan agreed to watch me," Tracey said, "otherwise Mam or Dad wouldn't have let me do magic in the holidays. But we're here now, so we can practise as much as we want! Well, after we get checked in."

Harry nodded.

"Just a sec." Harry turned to face his aunt again. She looked a bit better – steadier on her feet, at any rate – although Dudley still seemed a bit worse for wear. At least he hadn't been sick. "Aunt Petunia, do you think you and Dudley are feeling well enough to go check in yet? I'm sure once we get to our rooms you can have a proper rest. International portkeys are a bit rougher than we expected." Which was perfectly true, although that had affected Petunia and Dudley more than either Harry or Sirius.

Harry wondered whether it was due to Petunia and Dudley being muggles, or Harry and Sirius's greater experience using portkeys. Maybe both. But even allowing for that, Harry just wanted to get a move on. It felt pointless to be standing around doing nothing outside of the queue for the check-in when they could be standing around doing nothing inside of the queue for the check-in.

"I think so," Petunia said. "Duddy, darling—are you ready to move on? I know it's a little bit—uncomfortable—travelling this way, but it does go away after you start moving again."

"I'm not sure I want to do that again," Dudley said after a few moments. Harry bit back his reply. Dudley would have to do it again at least three more times, since Harry doubted Petunia would allow him to stay home all summer without her supervision. "Let's go, then. I want to get to our room so we can find our butler. I want to see what wizard food is like."

"Butler?" asked Tracey quietly as the group moved off towards the queue.

"House elves," Harry explained. "Si—Dave mentioned how they're kind of like a personal muggle butler. And there's elf service for all guests here, so…" Harry shrugged. The idea of elf service for all the guests was a little bit off-putting, but there was nothing Harry could do about any of that, and perhaps elves in Austria had different rights to those back home.

They joined the queue and waited for their turn. While they waited, Harry introduced Petunia and Dudley to Colin, and let his aunt speak with him and Sirius to give her something to do while they all waited. Dudley had already got out his GameBoy.

Harry nudged him.

"Is that even working?" Harry asked. He was genuinely curious, as highly magical locales often caused problems with muggle electronics. He knew of several muggleborns who'd brought similar things to Hogwarts – including digital wristwatches – that had malfunctioned spectacularly.

"Yeah," grunted Dudley. "The screen's flickering a bit, but it's not too bad."

"Fair enough," said Harry. At least Dudley had a way to keep himself entertained. That should give everyone some space to enjoy themselves, as a bored Dudley was a destructive Dudley, and without his usual ways to channel it… well, Harry didn't want the distraction.

Harry spent the rest of his time queuing talking with Tracey about their upcoming duels. Both of them steadfastly avoided mentioning the trial or Lucius Malfoy, something for which Harry was immensely grateful. He knew he would have to thank Colin for providing a character reference, and his presence at the Summer Tournament would make that much easier. But that could wait until later. For the moment, Harry wanted to enjoy being a normal teenager.

When it was finally his turn, Harry stepped up to the kiosk and looked for an open attendant. There was a cheerful-looking wizard with a spot open, so Harry filled it before anyone else came by to take it.

"Hello," Harry said. "I'm not sure what we're meant to be doing," he continued, "but I suppose this is where we sign in? I'm Harry Potter. I should be on the list—I've got my invitation with me somewhere, hang on…"

The wizard waved a hand dismissively.

"No need for that," said the wizard, his English only slightly accented. "Everyone here is here because they were sent a portkey." He scanned a list in front of him. "Potter, Potter… ah, there we are. You're signed up to the Novice Doubles, is that right? That's what we've got here."

"Yeah," said Harry. "My partner's actually just there—checking in with the witch next but one." Harry glanced over at Tracey.

"Wonderful," said the wizard. "Well, all that's in order. Let me just tick you off there…" He muttered something too quiet for Harry to hear and then scratched something onto his parchment with his quill. "We need to check your wand in—and your guardians' wands—and then we can show you to your rooms."

"Right," Harry said. He grabbed his wand and handed it over to the wizard, then glanced back at Sirius, who was stood talking to Petunia. "Er, Dave? We need to check in your wand." Harry looked back at the check in wizard. "Oh, my, er, my aunt is a muggle—so she doesn't have a wand, obviously. Is that okay?"

"That's fine," the wizard said as he did something with Harry's wand. "It's not like muggles can get up to much mischief anyway." The wizard took down Sirius's false name and then Sirius handed over his wand, too. After that it was just a matter of waiting for the wizard to be done. After a few moments the wizard gave back both wands. "Your rooms are in the East Wing. Your wands are your keys. It's a bit of a maze in there so if you go through the main doors one of our elves will see you through the rest of the castle."

"Right," said Harry. "And then…?"

"There's an information pack in your room," the wizard explained. "It's all in there. If you've got any questions just call an elf and they'll fetch a human member of staff if it's needed. Enjoy your stay, and good luck in the competition."

Harry nodded and led Sirius, his aunt, and Dudley away from the kiosk. The route out of the entrance hall was clearly marked, so Harry followed along it until they emerged into a room not unlike Hogwarts's grand stairwell. Unlike Hogwarts, however, there was a veritable horde of house elves lingering about the area. Harry had never seen so many of the diminutive magical creatures in one place before. The strangest thing wasn't that there were so many, however, but that they were waiting in complete, utter silence.

It was unnerving.

"Oh!" said Petunia when she saw the elves. "These must be the… the elves," she said quietly, just loud enough for Harry to hear. Harry assumed she didn't want to offend the elves by talking about them where they could hear, but from what Harry knew about how wizards generally treated elves, they'd likely heard far worse and as comments directed to them.

Dudley hadn't looked up from his GameBoy.

"Er, excuse me?" Harry said to the nearest elf. "Hello, I was just wondering if you could show us to our rooms? I'm Harry Potter and this is my uncle Dave—we've just checked in."

The elf, which Harry thought was a female although it was hard to tell since she was completely bald, jumped at Harry's address.

"Yes, of course, Mr Potter sir," she said in a deep, heavily accented, voice. "Nieblitz is doing this. Come, follow." The elf set off at once, winding a path through the elves and into the castle's interior. They passed through a series of exquisitely decorated corridors and hallways, up marble staircases and across balconies and catwalks as their elf, Nieblitz, showed them the way to their rooms.

Harry tried to memorise the route as he went, but the sheer number of twists and turns made it difficult, not to mention the entirely unfamiliar setting. The one fortunate thing was that unlike Hogwarts, the layout of Hexenhochburg seemed to be more or less fixed. A small mercy. With luck, Sirius or Petunia would have had an easier time of it, so at least someone would know how to get back to the main part of the castle.

Harry rather doubted it, though. Petunia seemed more interested in the artwork and Sirius was staring morosely at their elf. Nieblitz stopped outside a non-descript hallway and gestured for them to move forward.

"Here is the rooms," she said, gesturing to a thick wooden door set back within an alcove, flanked by a pair of gargoyles. "Use the wands to open the door. If you is needing anything, please call Nieblitz. Thank you sirs and madam. Is there anything else you needs?"

"Er, no," said Harry. "I think we're alright for now." He glanced at Sirius and Petunia. "Right?"

"I'm good," Sirius said. He shrugged. "Keen to get inside the room, to be honest."

"I could do with a spot of tea," Petunia said. "Is there a kettle in the room?"

"Nieblitz is bringing tea right away, frau!" squeaked the elf. She disappeared with a pop, which jerked Dudley away from his game.

"We're here," Harry said to him as he glanced around. Dudley grunted something unintelligible as a response.

"I'll just unlock the door then," Sirius said. He tapped his wand against the keyhole and it swung open. He gestured, did a half bow. "After you."

Petunia stepped inside the room, and then Harry and Dudley followed.

Inside was every bit as sumptuous as the rest of the castle. Hardly modern by any stretch of the word, the furniture in the room was nevertheless exquisitely turned out. Rich, plush fabrics over hardwood frames for the chairs and sofas in the main room sat atop a shiny polished floor, all in natural colours – browns, greens, even a hint of red. Several dozing portraits sat on the walls, along with a great big tapestry depicting a witch Harry didn't recognise. There were five separate doors set apart from the main room, four along one wall and one along the opposite.

Almost immediately upon getting inside Petunia did her usual hotel-room checks. She ran her fingers over the tops of tables, under the rims, and up on the higher up spaces to check for dirt. She even checked around the portraits.

"It's very clean," she declared when she was done. "Very clean. Of course, I'll have to look at the bathroom, and the bedrooms, but I don't think I've ever seen a hotel room this clean before." Her gaze lingered on the top of a portrait frame. "Not even a speck of dust!"

"House elves," Sirius explained. "A good elf is worth its weight in gold. More, even."

"Marvellous creatures," Petunia said. "I'll have to ask her for some tips—although I suppose they just use magic." She sighed. "I'm going to look in the bedrooms and the bathrooms!" she said and disappeared through the door set on its own.

Dudley sank into one of the plush armchairs. He put his GameBoy to one side.

"That elf," Dudley said. "She said we can just call her if we want something. But she didn't say how."

"Call her name and then she'll appear," Sirius said. "Although—and don't take this the wrong way—I'm not sure if elves can hear when muggles call them." He shrugged. "Not sure if they can hear us from our magic or theirs, see."

Harry thought that over. That was an interesting thought, that wizards were using their own magic to call for house elves, although Harry didn't think it worked like that. It just felt wrong to him – the magic was surely on the elves' side. From everything had had read and heard about elves, that seemed more likely.

He said as much.

"I think it's probably the elf magic that lets them hear us," Harry started to say. "I read a thing and—"

Nieblitz reappeared in the room with a loud pop carrying a tray with a dainty cup and a fancy porcelain teapot on it.

"Tea for Frau Potter," Nieblitz said.

Mortified at the thought, Harry forgot what he was about to say and jumped to correct the elf instead.

"It's Dursley, actually—I'm the only one called Potter," Harry said. But of course, nobody had taken down Petunia or Dudley's names, as muggles were invisible to wizards. And house elves too, apparently.

"Muuuum!" shouted Dudley. "That elf's brought you tea." He turned towards Nieblitz. "So, you can bring us anything? Like… snacks and drinks and that stuff?"

"Yes, Nieblitz is doing this," said the elf. "If we has it at the castle, Nieblitz can bring it to you."

"Brilliant," Dudley said. "So, have you got any biscuits? Some sweets? Or a sandwich—I don't mind what one, as long as there's no pickles in it. Maybe some sausages? Germans like sausages, don't they? So you should have—"

"Dudley, leave the poor wom—elf alone," said Petunia, sailing back into the room with a big smile on her face. Euphoric from seeing a bathroom cleaner than she'd ever thought possible, Harry assumed. "There's going to be a feast later so you won't want to fill up on rubbish. Thank you for the tea, Nieblitz," Petunia said, taking the tea tray from the elf and placing it onto one of the small tables in the room.

"Yes, madam frau! Nieblitz is at your command. Please do not be waiting to call Nieblitz whenever you need something!" The little elf bowed and disappeared from the room with a pop.

"We don't even know what time food will be, Mum," muttered Dudley. "Now we've got to wait ages…"

"I'm going to check the bedrooms and then read that information thing the wizard said about," Harry said, keen to get away. Harry retreated to his bedroom with his bag and sat down to read the orientation documents.

Dinner – a grand welcoming feast held in Hexenhochburg Prachtgarten's grand dining hall – was at eight o'clock sharp. Petunia had insisted everyone dress as smartly as possible for the occasion, clearly terrified at the thought of being seen in anything less than the utmost finery. Harry acquiesced and threw on one of his nicer robes. Even combed his hair, not that it really did anything to tame the wildness. Twenty minutes before the feast began Sirius suggested they call Nieblitz to ask for directions to the dining hall, and the elf led them all through the castle towards their destination. Once inside, Harry saw a grand room not unlike the Hogwarts Great Hall.

Grand, almost impossibly large floor-to-ceiling windows flanked the sides of the dining hall, some with transparent glass and others with exquisite stained glass depicting scenes from the castle's storied history. The thin stone walls between the windows sported narrow tapestries and banners whose emblems and sigils Harry didn't know the significance of. An absurdly long table sat right in the middle of the hall with easily two hundred spaces laid out. Animated suits of armour stood between each of the windows, occasionally moving an arm or a leg, although most seemed quite content to remain still. Some of them patrolled the dining hall. Many of the other attendees had filtered into the hall and had taken seats, although just as many hadn't.

Tracey found them just inside the dining hall.

"Ooh, great!" she said as she rushed forward to greet Harry. "We can sit together!" In an undertone, said to Harry only, she added, "And I've managed to pick up a—guest." She glanced back at where her father and brother were stood with an unknown man, woman, and – Hermione Granger. "Sorry," Tracey continued, "but she hasn't been that bad. So far."

Harry fought the urge to groan. It wasn't as if Granger was nasty, exactly. She just had a manner that, particularly in the context of school and lessons, happened to grate. Well, Harry could put up with that for a single week, at least. And if Tracey didn't think she'd been that bad, maybe Granger was a little more bearable outside of school.

Or so Harry hoped.

Without lessons and teachers about, Harry thought Granger might manage to focus on something other than getting questions right or showing off how much she'd learned. And if not, well… the Summer Tournament only lasted the week and he could spend most of it practising with Tracey in their private training area.

And that was that. The three groups merged into one awkward mass as they filtered into the grand dining hall at Hexenhochburg Prachtgarten.

"How lovely to meet you all," said Granger's mother as Harry, his aunt, Sirius, and Dudley approached with Tracey's family. "I'm Prudence, and this is my husband, Barnaby; we're Hermione's parents."

Harry didn't think she even had to explain that. The resemblance between her and her daughter was quite clear, right down to the bushy hair and large teeth, though Granger's nose was more like her father's. Apart from that, though, they had the same kind of cadence in their speech and held themselves in much the same way. And Granger's parents seemed like what Vernon would call 'uppity Londoners', the sort of people who worked professional jobs and lived terribly middle-class lives. Of course, Vernon was himself a member of the middle class who worked in London and sent his son to a public boarding school, but Harry supposed that sort of disdain never really was logical. Vernon probably thought it different because he didn't live in London and considered himself a more salt of the earth type.

But looking at Granger's parents it was easy to see how and why Granger had turned out the way she had. A mystery solved, not that he'd been especially keen to find out.

"How do you do?" asked Petunia politely. "I'm Petunia Dursley, Harry's aunt, and this is—this is—Dave, Harry's uncle."

"Lovely to meet you," Sirius said.

"I understand that you and your husband are muggles, too," said Prudence. "I have to admit that it's nice not to be the only ones—we had worried, you see. We've never been able to do something like this with Hermione's school, so we thought maybe we'd be the only muggles here."

"Oh, Heavens no!" exclaimed Petunia. "Dave isn't my husband—he's—"

"We're definitely not married," Sirius said, sounding almost as mortified as Petunia at the thought. "And I'm a wizard."

"Dave is my uncle from my father's side," said Harry, jumping in before anyone got the wrong idea. Sirius and his aunt, married? Awful. Unmarried and cohabiting? Worse.

"But there aren't any relatives on your father's side," Granger said. "I remember, because it was in—"

"Distant uncle," Harry said. "From my father's mother's side. It doesn't matter. Shall we take our seats? The table is filling up and we don't want to be separated, do we?"

Harry strode off, glancing back at Tracey to get her to follow with her dad and brother. Anything to end the painful conversation that had been taking place… and anything to stop Granger from digging into Sirius's cover story too deeply.

Harry found a spot on the big feast table that would fit everyone – reluctantly, since he didn't think spending the evening with Granger and her parents was something he wanted to do – and waited for everyone else to sit down.