Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns everything. I, in turn, own nothing.
Acknowledgements: Thank you to my editor, Athena Hope, as well as my betas: 3CP, Regress, Thanos, and Thobeobo for their contributions.
ANYONE WHO JOINS MY DISCORD SERVER CAN READ EIGHT CHAPTERS AHEAD OF WHAT IS POSTED HERE!
If you want even earlier access, then sign up to my P*T*E*N page. They are currently MORE THAN TWENTY CHAPTERS ahead of FFN.
Those links are on my profile. If any give you trouble, use the direct links on my website's homepage.
Harry Potter and the Perversion of Purity
By ACI100
Book 4: The Deadliest of Games
Chapter 21: Claim Some Fame
October 3, 1994
Durmstrang Institute
7:24 PM
Whispers trailed him like a hundred fleeting shadows. The others' stares felt like a tangible force, but not in the way he had grown accustomed to. So often others' attention had settled on his shoulders like the weight of mountains, but now, he felt free as a leaf drifting in an autumn breeze.
What a wonderful feeling. Had this been why Draco had given him the cold shoulder for so long? Had he felt deprived of this? I can almost understand why he did everything he did.
Ladislav, Reynolt, and Alexei were waiting in the same places they always occupied — the seating arrangement had fast become something of a ritual — but his eyebrows crept higher when he saw who else was sitting there.
"Evening, Granger. Anything I can help you with?" Theodore had stiffened when first he had caught sight of her and was rigid as steel in mid-winter. Best to resolve this before it blows up.
"Are the rumours true?"
"You'll have to be more specific; there are a lot of those." Harry had heard a dozen retellings of that afternoon's lesson with Professor Kuzmenko and not one of them had been accurate.
"I heard that you took down the entirety of Durmstrang's fourth and fifth year all on your own."
Theodore snorted. "Not every fourth and fifth year who attends Durmstrang studies Combat."
Hermione's glare cut into him like a pair of daggers. "You know what I meant."
"They're mostly true," Harry broke back in. "I incapacitated them long enough for Theodore to cross the canyon."
"Incapacitated?" Reynolt threw a mock glare across the table. "My legs have been twitching all day and I still feel prickling every now and then. You call that incapacitated?"
Hermione suddenly grew stiffer than Theodore. "So it's true?"
"You don't listen very well, do you?" Theodore snapped. "He just told you it was true."
Granger waved him off. "Not that."
"What then?" he asked. "There are a lot of rumours about me, Granger."
"I heard that you conjured lightning at the Quidditch World Cup. I heard that you shredded the front line of those Death Eaters, or whatever they were."
A stillness blanketed the table. Harry was half-convinced Durmstrang offered secret classes in eavesdropping that Grindelwald had not shown him. Everyone's attention had shifted in an instant.
Harry focused and the stillness deepened. The silence grew thick and sluggish as the more distant chatter no longer streamed over their conversation, but instead trickled one droplet of sound at a time.
So this is what dilation feels like? Unpleasant would have been a kind description; his skull had become a pressure valve.
Thump, thump.
Bollocks! Harry could not dilate the way Grindelwald could; time around him trickled, but the drops seeped through his seal faster than he had expected. I need to think. I don't trust myself to hold this long.
How close were Dumbledore and Granger? Weasley's parents are probably a part of his Order of the Phoenix, but what does that mean for Granger? She had been with them in the top box; did that mean she had spent the summer? How free are they with their information if she did? Was it likely Dumbledore would interrogate her?
Thump, thump.
Fuck! How much did he dare say? Enough that the word spreads, but nothing that contradicts what I told Dumbledore.
The stream rushed through his seal and poured over unseen rocks as the surging din of conversation renewed.
"I wasn't planning on shredding through the front line. I just saw the chance to help, but I didn't hold back enough. I underestimated my own strength."
There. That tale would spread. If Harry Potter could reduce a line of men to blood and gore whilst holding back, what was he really capable of?
Warmth trickled through him as he took in the awed expressions clustered around the table. I think Grindelwald would actually be proud. No one had cultivated a reputation quite like he had.
"But… but…" Granger was red-faced and spluttering. "You're fourteen!"
Don't remind me. Had he been older, he would have been stronger. Then I could be free. His frustration from the Quidditch World Cup returned. All of us could be free.
"It doesn't matter." The lie filled his mouth with a bitter taste, but he ignored it the best he could. "Age is just a number."
Granger had puffed out like an inflatable balloon that had grown agitated. "Lightning? You expect me to believe you cast lightning at fourteen? A strong enough blast of it to shred through a line of fully grown wizards?"
"You don't have to believe." Ladislav regarded her with a cool challenge. "We all saw him cast lightning today; I don't doubt the things he could do if he unleashed with full strength."
The Russian noble and the British muggleborn stared each other down. Interesting. I wouldn't have guessed he'd jump to my defence so fast. Could he use that? Or is he just hoping to get close to me?
Hermione gathered up her things and stormed off in a whirl of bushy hair.
Harry raised his glass to Ladislav. "Cheers."
Ladislav shrugged. "It happened; pretending otherwise is foolish."
What does that mean? "I appreciate it anyway; that wasn't an argument I wanted."
"Stuck up bitch," Theodore muttered, still glaring at Granger's back. "Just walks in like she owns everything and believes no one but herself. I hate her type."
Muggleborns, or entitled brats? Harry had never seen Theodore interact much with those of lowly birth. I'll have to keep an eye on that.
Some time later…
The sounds of snoring began outside his curtains. It remained a disconcerting sound. Back at Hogwarts, he silenced the curtains around his bed both ways, but here, not everyone dwelling in the room was among those he trusted.
Not that I think Goldstein will try killing me in my sleep, but it's the principle.
"You must begin exercising caution," Grindelwald had preached over the summer. "You have run headlong into disaster after disaster, and remarkably, you have escaped. Offer your thanks to whatever has kept you alive, but you can rely on chance no longer. It will not serve you in the tournament of champions and it will destroy you later if the habit persists."
It would be great if I could actually talk to him. Nothing happened when he tried slipping into whatever state allowed him to communicate with Grindelwald. It felt like something was missing, but the pieces were too complex for him to decipher the gap.
If I can't talk to one centennial sorcerer, I might as well take advantage of the other.
He withdrew the plain black journal from his trunk and laid back down.
I don't suppose you're available? he wrote.
The answer came quickly. I am available more often than not these days. Take advantage while you can. I despise waiting and will not continue doing it forever.
The words were a stark reminder. I have to get stronger — Voldemort will come out into the open once the time is right. Harry could not allow himself to become trapped between him and Dumbledore. I'll never be free if I do.
How much do you know about the Russian nobility? he scribbled back.
I know many things, came the reply, but I've never had need to know much about Russia. There was a short pause before more words appeared. Why is it you ask? Has something happened?
A couple things, but the reason I ask is because I've befriended a boy named Ladislav Marchenko. His father is the head of Tsar Romanov's guard. I want to know more about his family.
"You must understand a person if you are to mould them," Grindelwald had advised last year when Harry had asked for advice regarding Astoria. "Family, history, patterns, desires; many things comprise a person and influence how they will traverse their life."
I will have Lucius make inquiries, Voldemort wrote back. I advise you to request Bartemius to do the same. He is a valuable resource.
Harry placed his quill against the page again. Crouch mentioned something we'll be doing regarding the professors. I don't know what he plans or why he plans it.
It will happen next Friday and will accomplish more than you realize. Improving your circumstances is a benefit, but not the only one.
Harry tapped the quill against the page and pondered. I shouldn't push him. Memories of invisible whips cracking through the stillness of the Malfoys' drawing room replayed.
What else has happened? Voldemort inquired. You implied there were multiple events of import.
Should I tell him about the run-in I had with Romanov? Harry had grown more and more convinced that it had been no accident. No, he decided, instead beginning to recap that day's affairs. Not until I've talked to Grindelwald.
The pendant felt like a lifeless stone against his chest. Hopefully soon.
October 6, 1994
Durmstrang Institute
8:14 AM
Shoulders draped in Hogwarts robes slumped around him. Durmstrang's classes began early and many of his peers had been unprepared for that sudden shift.
Oh, and then Laidan decided to be a twat.
The Duelling instructor had just announced that the next weeks would be spent pitting students against each other and determining whose skill lied where.
And that Hogwarts students would duel Durmstrang ones, of course. Laidan claimed the skill of his own charges was something he knew well, so the easiest way of judging the visitors would be the way he had devised. And if a bunch of Hogwarts students get trounced because we don't practice duelling so routinely, all the better.
The first duel surprised him. Granger dismantled a burly Durmstrang boy quickly and without drama.
She's not bad. Her spell selection was excellent and she had controlled the exchanges well. A bit slow and predictable and a lot of sloppy mechanics, but not bad.
Su Li and Anthony Goldstein did not fare so well.
Harry felt doubt begin creeping up on him as he watched those exchanges. None of them can touch me, he told himself. I've been practicing for years and against men whose skill they could never dream of.
But that's different, the doubt inside him whispered. You're free during those fights; there are no rules that eliminate most of what you do well.
Padma Patil surprised him with her skill, but Alexei was too fast and crafty for her. Theodore fought a close duel against Reynolt and just barely edged a victory.
Theodore would have trounced him there if he could use half of what I think he knows.
"Last duel!" Laidan called. "Potter from Hogwarts against Marchenko from Durmstrang."
His expression remained blank as he stood and took his place. He had expected this — Ladislav had boasted of his skill and Laidan's ploy was obvious.
Shame for him it won't work. The rules were irrelevant; no one his age could keep up with him.
"You're fourteen!"
He glared at Granger in the final moments before the gong was struck.
No one!
Rudimentary charms were exchanged for half a minute. Harry batted a spell in Ladislav's direction, but he had anticipated that and tried slipping his own chain through Harry's lowered guard.
Spells flashed back and forth much faster than they had during the other duels. Ladislav wasn't kidding — he's good. There was a clipped precision in the way he moved. Each step took him just far enough, each gesture of his wand was tight and without telegraph. Even his breathing was in time with his footsteps.
It's like duelling a less skilled Dolohov. A flash of red light nearly grazed him and a purple bolt careened against his shield. I can't just stand here and exchange spells. That was always what led to his most humiliating defeats against Dolohov.
Harry flicked his wand and the stones under Ladislav contorted. Vine-like protrusions reached up and attempted to snag his legs, but Ladislav conjured a row of pin-sized projectiles to hold Harry's attention and turned his wand on the protrusions.
The right move according to any textbook.
Harry dilated.
But I don't play by those rules. Dolohov had said it best; his raw talent was his greatest edge.
Thump, thump.
I'll have to be fast; this is gonna be tight.
Harry prepared his intent and ended his dilation. His wand swept out and the projectiles were redirected, and simultaneously, the stone protrusions shattered into a mass of hissing snakes that lunged for Ladislav from angles the boy had not predicted.
"Dolohov tells me your gestures are precise," Voldemort had said during one of their summer meetings. "That is enough for lesser wizards, but not for us. We will begin eliminating those gestures altogether. It is one of many advantages afforded to the mighty."
The snakes ensnared Ladislav's legs and dragged him down, cursing and flailing.
Textbooks don't account for the exceptions.
It was a tricky business, more fatiguing and less reliable than casting with wand movements, but useful in a pinch.
Harry flicked his wand and disarmed his newest friend.
"Stop!" Harry had anticipated a glare, but the professor did the last thing he had expected and smiled. "Well, well, a diamond among heaps of coal."
Please read and review.
A special thank you to my high-tier patron, Cup, for her generous and unwavering support.
PS: The next chapter will be out in one week. Remember that chapters can be read early on Discord, YouTube, and P*T*E*N! All those links are on my profile, and if any give you trouble, use my website's homepage. That site can be found via a generic Google search of my pen name.