An early chapter since I'm feeling nice. The journey into Durmstrang begins at last. Writing these Durmstrang chapters has been fun and challenging. I've done my best to build my own world and backstory regarding the school and its inhabitants. You'll meet some of the more interesting characters in this chapter. Tell me what you think.
As I'll soon be going into college, I'm working on making a P*T*E*N Page. Don't worry, nothing will change with posting here. The page will just be for earlier chapters and any behind-the-scenes content of interest (it'll help me go from a broke college student to a slightly broke one). Is there anything you guys would be interested in seeing? If so, what? More information can be found on my page.
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Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.
The next chapter will be published the Saturday after next.
Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate
The Desolations of Destiny
X. Amongst the Ice and Snow
A wave of sound crashed against Harry's ears. He grit his teeth, moodily stabbing a piece of bacon with the end of his fork.
"Don't get me wrong, your last day here was always going to be annoying," Nott frowned, watching as Harry ate, "But I did expect you'd be in a better mood, seeing as you're off to Durmstrang."
"I'm not upset about leaving Hogwarts."
"Ahh," Nott yawned, "Nice to know I'll be missed."
"Oh, shut up," Harry muttered, "It's not that."
"Then what?"
"The fucking reporters."
Daphne turned, finally looking up from her plate.
"Reporters?" she asked, her brows furrowed together in irritation, "There are reporters?"
"Dozens of them all across Hogsmeade," Harry muttered, "Some have snuck onto the Hogwarts grounds, too."
"How'd you know?" asked Nott curiously.
"I heard the Weasley twins talking about it before breakfast."
The Marauder's Map confirmed it, too.
"It probably doesn't matter," Nott decided eventually, "You know how Dumbledore feels about them. He won't let them anywhere near the delegations."
Daphne nodded slowly. Harry watched as her eyes flicked to the back of her sister's head. Astoria's white-blonde hair stuck out from the Ravenclaw table. Beside her, the dirty-blonde locks of Luna Lovegood swayed dreamily in the nonexistent breeze.
"I won't let them badger her," Harry whispered in Daphne's ear, "She can borrow -"
The Invisibility Cloak . . .
The grinning face of Bellatrix Lestrange appeared in his mind. Harry watched as she draped herself with a shimmering silvery fabric.
"I can Disillusion her," he corrected. Daphne stared curiously at him.
The sound of a heavy chair sliding across wood echoed through the hall. Harry turned, watching as Professor McGonagall rose to her feet.
"Your classes are to begin shortly!" she called from the very front of the Great Hall, "Hurry along now! Members of the Hogwarts Delegation, please stay behind."
Harry turned to his two friends.
"I guess it's time," he said, smiling weakly.
"Probably," Nott agreed slowly, "I've got something for you, though."
Daphne's gaze turned to him.
"Plan on sharing it with me?"
Nott shook his head slowly. Daphne frowned.
"Give us a moment, then," she said slowly, "I've got something for him, too."
"What, and I can't see it?"
"It's not the object that I don't want you to see."
A knowing smirk spread across Theo's face. They watched as he stepped away, his hands raised high above his head.
"Thanks for the warning, Greengrass. I'd rather not have nightmares about the two of you," Nott snickered, "Take all the time you need. I can talk to Harry when he leaves the Great Hall, anyway."
And he strode away, his puckering lips growing smaller with every step he took. Daphne rolled her eyes.
"You seem to be in a pretty foul mood," Harry noted.
"The two people I care most about are leaving for about half a year," said Daphne dryly, "I don't exactly feel like smiling."
"What about Tracy?" Harry smiled weakly.
"She can settle for third," Daphne frowned, "She's been gone for ages, anyway . . ."
Her fingers flitted across her braided hair. Harry watched as her lips quivered, the wetness of her eyes just beginning to show.
"You'll visit, right?" she whispered. Her voice was unusually weak.
"The first chance I get. I'll learn about Apparation at Durmstrang, practice if I can -"
"It won't make a difference," Daphne murmured, "You can't apparate on the Hogwarts Grounds."
"Then I'll apparate into Hogsmeade like I told you earlier."
"Hogwarts is a long way from Dursmtrang."
"Then I'll find another way. I'll figure something out." said Harry stubbornly.
I always do, in the end.
"Right, then," Daphne straightened up, looking determinedly at her hands, "Right. There's something I wanted to give you."
She reached gently into her robes, pulling out a blank sheet of parchment. It had clearly been ripped from a notebook of some kind - the tear marks on the left side were testament to that.
"Before Astoria came to Hogwarts, we used Enchanted Books to communicate," she told him quietly, "Mother made them for us. You write in one book, and the writing appears in the corresponding page of the other book."
Harry took the page from her, doing his best to ignore the panging of his chest.
Like a diary that writes back . . .
Harry shook his head.
Not the same. It's not the same -
"Astoria still has her book," Daphne told him, "She'll be able to talk to me through it. Just . . . don't waste it, alright? Only in case of emergencies."
"Emergencies?" Harry frowned, "Daph, I could ask Astoria for another page if I really needed to -"
"No, you can't," Daphne said sadly, "It wasn't made for you. The more pages you take, the less likely it is to work. It wouldn't be working at all if I didn't want to write to you so badly . . ."
Harry stared at the page in his hands with newfound interest.
Blood magic, maybe. Definitely something illegal.
Harry slipped the sheet into his pocket, glancing back at the girl opposite him.
"I'll watch out for Astoria, too -"
"I know you will," Daphne reassured him, "I don't need you to tell me."
Harry nodded weakly. A pointy green hat gloomed in the background.
"You're late for double potions, Miss Greengrass," said Professor McGonagall softly.
"Right," Daphne murmured. She turned back to Harry, her eyes shining.
"You'd best spend your time wisely," Daphne told him, leaning closer, "Six months for some stupid competition . . . you'd better win the damn thing."
"Harry Potter, winner of the Triwizard Tournament," said Harry slowly, "Not quite as catchy as the boy-who-lived."
Daphne smiled. Harry felt his heart flicker as her eyelids slipped shut, her lips pressing dangerously close to his. Harry could taste the faintest impression of strawberries along the corner of his mouth.
"You'd better visit soon," she whispered in his ear, pressing her head against the crook of his neck.
Harry laughed.
"I suppose I could crash a Hogsmeade visit or two . . ."
Daphne pulled away from him. Harry could almost see the joy draining from her face.
"I'll be seeing you, then," she said, reaching numbly for her bag before nodding toward the two of them, "Goodbye."
And she strode down to the dungeons, her stance unnaturally still. She didn't look back.
Professor McGonagall tapped the table beside him impatiently.
"I can't imagine Professor Dumbledore would approve of constantly hopping across the globe just to visit a . . . friend."
Harry shrugged.
"What he doesn't know can't hurt him," he said. Professor McGonagall gave him an exasperated look.
Grabbing one last bite of food, Harry hurried out of the Great Hall and into the main foyer. He found Nott standing off to one corner, hidden behind the door that led out onto the Hogwarts Grounds. Harry stepped toward him.
"You wanted to tell me something?"
"Just a moment," Nott whispered, glancing around, "You'd best put up some wards."
Harry frowned, looking around as well.
I'm not amazing at wards. Never really bothered to look much into it.
Harry decided he'd be changing that as soon as possible.
Wand tucked tight within his grasp, Harry waved it through the air, muttering incantations under his breath.
Make sure no one can hear us.
A familiar draining sensation welled up in his chest as his thoughts suddenly shifted into reality. Harry grit his teeth, burying the unpleasant ache with a slight shiver.
"We should be fine," Harry said, "You were saying?"
Nott pressed his hand against Harry's. Harry stared at the cold metal suddenly clenched between his fingers.
It was a silver ring. An ornate miniature snake, eating its own tail. A glistening emerald sat in the place of its eye. Harry studied it carefully, a confused smile slipping across his features.
"I'm not marrying you."
"What? No!" Nott shoved another ring - a black one far plainer than Harry's - under his nose, "It's to communicate, you dope."
"Of all the ways to communicate, you went with rings?" Harry frowned, "How the fuck am I supposed to write on it?"
"I mean real communication," Nott whispered, "The face-to-face kind."
Harry paused.
"My grandfather gave them to me. He's had them for about half a century," Theo explained, "They're like portkeys. Whoever has the silver one can call the other rings -"
"The others?" said Harry loudly, "Theo, have you lost your mind -"
"They're all destroyed," Nott said seriously, "Mine is the only one left."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because grandfather told me so," said Theo stubbornly, "And he's one of the people who made them all in the first place. He destroyed them himself."
"And he's just okay with - with . . ."
Harry stared at the serpentine ring that sat in his palm.
A way of summoning followers.
Harry stared up at Nott.
"Who did he make them for?" he asked, his voice unnaturally calm. Theo stared back at him.
"I think you know."
Voldemort.
"She used to use them, back in the early days," Nott murmured, "She changed, though - started using tattoos, I think."
He sighed at the stubborn expression on Harry's face. Harry watched as the boy held up the black ring clenched within his palm.
"They're powerful," Nott whispered, "She made them powerful - really, really powerful. Grandfather reckons they could slip past even the Hogwarts Wards."
"Reckons?"
"He doesn't know for sure," Nott admitted, "He could only ever use this ring -"
Nott held the black ring aloft.
"- since it's made from our lineage. The Nott ring. Since I'm part of the family, it'll work for me, too."
"And my ring?" Harry asked, spinning it atop his palm, "It definitely wasn't made for me."
"Grandfather thinks it'll work," Nott whispered, "Go on, at least put it on."
Harry frowned, his eyes combing over the ring once more.
"Will Voldemort know? Or anyone else, for that matter."
"How could she?" Nott asked, "It's just an artifact. Nothing more, nothing less."
Nodding, Harry slowly slipped the cool metal ring across his fingers. A gentle thrumming echoed within my mind, and somehow, Harry knew that it would work.
I better not be in the same family as Voldemort.
"Well?" asked Nott expectantly.
"I'm still not convinced it's safe, you know," Harry frowned, "But if nothing's happened in a few weeks, I suppose I'll give it a try."
"Good," Nott grinned, "There's no way I'm not sneaking into Durmstrang when I've got the chance."
Harry nodded, slipping the ring into his pocket. An array of sounds echoed from out in the courtyard.
"See you soon, then," Nott said, holding his hand out. Harry shook it.
"See you soon."
With one last smile, Nott turned around, heading down the corridor that led toward Snape's dungeons. Harry watched as the boy grew smaller and smaller until, at last, he was gone.
Though the trek down to the courtyard didn't take long, Harry felt a twinge of loneliness burying itself in his chest. His breath fogged up in the cold Autumn air. Harry tucked his palms into the pockets of his robes.
The rest of the delegates were already standing silently in a huddle at the courtyard's edge. Harry stepped toward them, nodding politely to Professor Dumbledore as he approached.
"At last, our champion joins us," said the headmaster merrily, "Now that we are all here, we are ready to depart!"
"What about our stuff?" asked George, frowning, "McGonagall told us not to pack."
"The House Elves have taken the liberty of packing everything within your dormitories."
"Everything?" asked Fred suspiciously.
"Everything," repeated Albus, "And, I assure you, they felt no need to bring any of your belongings to my attention."
Fred and George exchanged a single glance before shrugging.
"Is there anything else any of you wish to collect?" Professor Dumbledore asked the delegates, "Anything not within your dorms?"
The students all shook their heads.
"Then let us make haste. Dear Sybill warns it would not bode well to be late."
They followed the headmaster down the dirt paths, walking along the trail that led to Hogsmeade. Harry quickly made his way to the front, ignoring the curious looks that followed as he matched Dumbledore's stride.
"You never mentioned how we'd be getting there," Harry noted curiously.
"No, I did not."
"You're not going to tell me, are you?"
The headmaster smiled.
"No, I will not," Professor Dumbledore winked, "I imagine the element of surprise is much more enjoyable when it remains just that: a surprise."
Right.
The dirt pathway eventually vanished, making way for organized stone. Harry stared, bewildered, at the gleaming body of the Hogwarts Express.
"We're taking that?" Harry heard Pansy Parkinson whisper from the back. A number of others voiced the same.
"I find, Miss Parkinson, that little could be more fitting than our roots," said Dumbledore kindly, "The Hogwarts Express opened a new chapter in each of our young lives. Why not allow it the opportunity once more?"
Pansy nodded slowly. The doors swung open as Professor Dumbledore waved his wand.
"Sir, I'm not quite sure I understand," Hermione frowned, watching as the Headmaster worked, "Are their train tracks leading to Durmstrang?"
"There are not," Dumbledore admitted, "Fortunately for us, our path is paved with magic."
He turned to them all, gently returning his wand to the pocket of his vibrant robes.
"Upon entering, you will find the compartments transformed," Dumbledore told them all, "The middle compartments will serve as common areas, with the compartments on its left serving as the male dormitories and the ones on its right serving as the female counterpart.
"You will each find a room marked with your name. Though your rooms are identical, I am more than willing to help should you wish to switch rooms. Now, hurry along."
The students filed into the Hogwarts Express. Harry waited with Dumbledore at the back.
"Is all that the same for me too?"
Professor Dumbledore shook his head.
"As champion, you have the final carriage to yourself," the headmaster noted, "I expect you'll put it to good use."
"Can I practice magic in there?"
Dumbledore nodded. Harry paused, thinking his next question over very carefully.
"Does that include whatever I learn during my time at Durmstrang?"
The headmaster frowned.
"So long as it does not negatively impact any of your peers, I see no reason why not," said Dumbledore thoughtfully, "I trust you will think carefully on what magics you should and shouldn't practice."
"Of course, Professor."
"In you go, then," Professor Dumbledore nodded, "It has been many years since I last visited Durmstrang Institute. I look forward to seeing it once more."
Harry stepped through the entrance, the unreadable shine in Dumbledore's eyes burnt deep within his skull.
-(xXx)-
"What the fuck," a surprised voice whispered from the door of his carriage, "Why does your room look like a temple?"
Harry turned. Astoria stood by the doorway, her eyes drinking in the depths of his room.
"It's very pretty," Luna offered from beside her, "The stone snakes are a nice touch."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry laughed, "It's based on the Chamber of Secrets. Remind me to show you some time -"
Astoria's petrified squeak rang across the room. Harry turned to her.
"What, Astoria?"
"You're the Heir," she said. Though her voice shook, Harry could make out the familiar trill of admiration buried deep within.
"Of course I'm not," Harry almost laughed, ignoring the discomfort that rang within his chest, "No, that's Voldemort. I'm more like - like a tenant or something."
"You are?" asked Luna curiously, "The Chamber of Secrets must be very expensive to rent."
"It was an analogy, Luna," Harry grinned, "But yeah, I imagine it would be."
"Did you do this, then?" Astoria asked. She pointed at the stone features that lined Harry's room.
"Yup."
"How?"
"Transfiguration, obviously -"
"I know that," Astoria snapped, "But won't it change back? Surely you can't keep changing it every day."
"Dumbledore said it wouldn't," Harry shrugged, "Some part of the train's magic, I guess. I don't really know."
He pointed his wand off to the side, conjuring two armchairs. Luna and Astoria took them gratefully.
"Are you two excited to see Durmstrang?" Harry asked eventually, satisfied with the changes he had made to his room.
"Oh, yes!" said Luna cheerfully, "I wonder if it's anything like my dreams."
Harry frowned. The vague outlines of Bellatrix Lestrange and a child-like Voldemort slipped across his skull.
"Dreams?"
"I suppose they're not quite dreams," Luna corrected, "They're more like my thoughts, really. I like to imagine things whenever I get bored."
Harry smiled curiously.
"What do you imagine?"
"A boy," Luna whispered, "He reminds me of you."
Harry paused.
"How so?"
"His eyes. They've got the same glow, if you look carefully enough. His are sharper, though. Meaner."
"Are they green, too?"
Luna shook her head.
"Heterochromia. One blue, one grey."
Harry's stomach flipped within his chest.
Grindelwald.
"That's a student, I think," Harry muttered, "He used to go there, a long, long time ago."
"Oh," Luna frowned, "So I won't get to meet him?"
"Probably not."
"That's good," said Luna gratefully, "I was worried."
"You imagined all this?" asked Astoria curiously, "Was it during divination?"
"Of course not," Luna admonished, "They're funny thoughts, that's all. You know I love to think -"
Astoria ignored her, turning expectantly to Harry.
"I suppose she's bound to get something right eventually," Harry shrugged, not quite believing the words that slipped from his lips, "Especially given - er - how much she likes to think."
Astoria nodded, sinking back into her armchair once more.
-(xXx)-
The world outside the window was snowy now. Mountains stretched as far as the eye could see, glimmering beneath the black evening sky. At one point, Harry swore the train was going over water. Though discomfort lurched within his chest, the train continued to move, dragging them along the windy path that led to Durmstrang Institute.
Harry sat up in his bed as the Hogwarts Express began to slow. Tall wooden buildings sat beyond his window, covered in snow. Beneath them, a never-ending sea of people stood, watching as the train went by. Harry felt his heartbeat quicken.
That's a lot of people.
He quickly got out of bed, forcing himself into his Slytherin robes. His eyes lingered on his reflection in the mirror.
I don't look like a clone of dad anymore.
Harry's thoughts trailed off. He wasn't quite sure how to feel.
"Harry!" Astoria's voice rang from beyond his door, "Harry, we're almost there!"
"I know!" Harry called back, "I'm getting ready!"
At last, the train came to a stop. Throngs of people were waiting outside - none students, as far as Harry could tell.
Thank Merlin these windows are one-way.
Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped out into the common room. The other delegates all watched as he approached.
"Nervous?" asked George from the couch by the fire.
"What makes you think that?"
George nodded toward the window.
"There's got to be at least a thousand of them," George muttered, "Hell, I'm not even Champion and I'm nervous."
Harry laughed weakly.
"A little, I guess."
Nothing a bit of Occlumency can't solve.
Harry's eyes flicked back to the sea of people beyond the window.
Hopefully.
"They are almost ready for us," Dumbledore said loudly as he entered the room, "The Scandinavian Ministry officials will ensure none enter our path. Stay close, and follow me."
They all nodded, following Dumbledore to the door.
"Hood off, Harry," said Dumbledore, frowning, "The true character of one hidden beneath their robes is rather difficult to see."
Harry pulled his hood back down with a sigh.
"Do you want me to fix your hair for you?" Hermione whispered from his side as he waited. It was odd, the mixture of nervousness and uncertainty that enveloped her face, "I could fix it for you."
"Don't bother, 'mione," Fred muttered, "Potters always have messy hair."
"It's genetic?"
Fred stared blankly at her.
"Sometimes I wonder if you're just making up words -"
"Yeah, it kind of is," Harry whispered, "After a long time, magic starts bleeding into your physical characteristics just a little."
"Oh, that," Fred realised, "Yeah, 'course it is. Sort of like how all the Blacks have got unnaturally grey eyes -"
"And how you Weasleys all have unnaturally red hair and almost never have girls?" Hermione interrupted.
Fred frowned.
"Er - sure, why not?"
Bang.
"They are ready for us," said Dumbledore calmly, "Follow me."
And he stepped forward, the doors of the Hogwarts Express slipping open.
Shouts tore through the evening air. Harry flinched as bright lights poked holes in his visions, countless cameras flashing again and again and again -
"Harry!"
"Over here, over here!"
"It's like an army of Colin Creeveys," Fred moaned under his breath. Harry couldn't help but agree.
Gates framed either side of their path. Witches and wizards in silver robes stood at irregular intervals, trying to manage the roaring crowd.
"POTTER! MR. POTTER -"
"Harry, look here, if you please!"
Harry forced his mind still. He almost sighed with relief as his nerves slowly faded away.
I love Occlumency.
"They're going to make a child blind," Astoria muttered darkly from Harry's right.
"Scurolumin," Harry whispered, tapping his wand gently against the side of her skull. The blonde girl blinked in surprise, shaking her head.
"Oddly specific spell," Astoria noted, smiling gratefully at him, "Why'd you learn it?"
Because I'm sick of using wandless magic for everything. Far too draining.
"In case something like this happened," Harry told her instead, "Doesn't hurt to be prepared."
He tapped his wand against his temple, muttering, "Scurolumin."
The bright flashing of countless cameras slowly dimmed into something far more bearable. Harry smiled to himself, turning to face the crowds. On his left, Luna was staring into the cameras, staring at them all as they passed. Harry moved to cast the same spell on her.
"Oh, it's alright, Harry," Luna smiled, "I think I like the light."
Harry shrugged.
"Suit yourself."
They continued on, many of the students flinching at the continuous stream of flashing cameras. Fred and George, Harry noticed, were not amongst their number.
"We've been inventing things," they explained when Harry asked, "Usually when things go wrong, they explode. Scurolumin helps us not go blind."
After what felt like ages, they reached a large set of black gates. Beyond them stood a dreary castle surrounded by mounds of ice.
Dumbledore waved his wand at the gates, muttering something under his breath. A shining, silvery Phoenix patronus slipped from the end of his wand, fluttering through the gates and down toward the castle.
"We are almost there," Dumbledore assured them, "The excitable many will not be able to follow us through these gates -"
"I wouldn't bet on that," George muttered. Harry followed his gaze, watching as a number of journalists broke into a fight, each trying to beat the other as they struggled to climb up the gates.
Bang.
Harry winced as the journalists went flying. Their limp bodies crashed into the snow.
Several figures emerged from the front entrance of the castle. Harry watched as they strode toward the gates, walking together in two columns. A single figure led them onward.
"Lower your gaze," Dumbledore warned softly, "Do not look them in the eye."
Harry frowned, studying the figures off in the distance. They were adorned in loose white robes, their heads hidden beneath silk hoods. Silver chain veils hid most of their face from view; only their eyes were visible.
Harry slowly took notice of the finer details as they approached. The relentless wind pressed their loose robes tight against their skin. It suddenly became very clear to Harry that they were all women.
Fucking hell.
Harry looked down at the stone floor as the gates creaked open. He could just barely make out the hems of the witches' robes as they came to a stop just before Dumbledore.
"Albus Dumbledore," a cool voice whispered, "How I have longed for this moment."
Professor Dumbledore bowed deeply.
"It is an honor to meet at last," he said earnestly.
"For you, perhaps," the voice murmured, "Have you brought us our Champion?"
Harry could almost feel Dumbledore's frown. The headmaster's palm pressed tight against his shoulder.
"I have brought the Hogwarts Champion, Harry Potter, to compete in the Triwizard Tournament."
Harry stared at the snow, watching as the woman's shadow nodded slowly.
"The swine awaits," she said, turning, "Follow."
Harry and the others straightened up. He caught little more than a flash of the woman's face as she led the way down toward the castle.
Gold. Her chain veil was gold, not silver.
The other women followed, flanking her on either side. Dumbledore led the Hogwarts delegates, making sure to keep a respectable distance between them and the witches.
The grand doors of Durmstrang creaked open as the witches approached. Grand stairs coiled around either side of another set of doors. Harry watched as the witches in white strode up the stairs and out of sight.
"Here we are," said Dumbledore as the second doors opened, "Durmstrang's Banquet Hall."
It was gloomy. Seven stone tables lined the hall, seemingly separating the students by age. The Beauxbatons students, Harry noted, were already seated. Almost all of them sat at the fourth, fifth, and sixth year tables.
Whispers broke through the hall. Harry suddenly became aware of the many eyes that drank in his features. He absentmindedly hid his scar beneath his bangs, ignoring the snickering of the Weasley twins behind him.
"Dumbledore!" Karkaroff called as they stepped into the hall, "Please, join me."
Professor Dumbledore nodded gratefully.
"Take your seats," he told them before following Karkaroff to a seat at the staff table.
"Come on," Hermione murmured, turning nervously to the fourth year table. Harry stared at her.
"Are you going or not?"
"Right - sorry." she squeaked. Pansy rolled her eyes.
The three of them stalked toward the fourth-year table. Harry grit his teeth, practically feeling the eyes that followed him. He slipped into a seat at the end of the table. Hermione sat to his side, and Pansy opposite the both of them.
"Welcome!" Headmaster Karkaroff called from the front of the hall. A silver language amulet glistened on his left wrist, "A few quick things before you may eat. The Scarlet Tower, as always, is out of bounds to all . . ."
His voice slowly became little more than chatter as Harry's eyes slipped along the table. A familiar silver-haired witch sat at the opposite end, surrounded by other students from Beauxbatons.
Gabrielle Delacour.
Her baby blue hood hid most of her features, but Harry could still recognize the single silver braid that hung from the left side of her head.
The Durmstrang students, Harry noted, were far better at controlling themselves than their Hogwarts counterparts. Though many sent looks her way, they were controlled and at least plausibly infrequent.
Still superficial, though. Shame.
Karkaroff's speech ended to a smattering of polite applause, and the welcoming feast began.
-(xXx)-
Harry sat in his bed, his fingers tapping against the cover of Borgin's dueling book. He looked through his window and at the snowy mountains beyond.
The Hogwarts Express had been moved, much to Harry's relief. It now sat along the Durmstrang grounds. The Beauxbatons Carriage was nearby, too; Harry could just barely make it out through the dense fog.
His fingers buried themselves into the crooks of his book, pushing it open.
"Pythia," Harry murmured to himself, "The Delphic Form . . ."
The Future Form. Characterized by prediction and generous use of Legilimency.
"I haven't practiced Legilimency in ages," Harry frowned, "But that sounds like a combat style I could get used to."
Something I could make my own. I just need practice.
Harry snorted to himself.
"I'm at Durmstrang," he muttered snarkily, "They probably have a combat class I could join . . . to practice curses on people who've got detention, or something stupid."
Harry sat up.
I wouldn't be surprised if that was actually true.
Moving quietly, Harry stepped out of bed and out into the hall. The common room was silent now; the Weasley twins had retired nearly an hour prior. Harry made his way down to the fireplace, staring at the Durmstrang schedule posted just above the mantle:
'DURMSTRANG CORE CLASSES:
Dueling - 6:30
Charms & Enchanting - 8:00
Runes - 10:00
Transfiguration - 11:30
History of Magic - 1:00
Magical Beasts - 3:00
Potions & Alchemy - 4:30
Divination - 6:00
Dark Arts - 8:00
Astronomy - 9:30'
"Of course it's in the fucking morning," Harry groaned, staring at the schedule, "Because the evening would've been too convenient -"
And he slouched back to his carriage, the gleam in his tired eyes betraying the excitement that drummed up in his chest.