Chapter 10- Parting Gifts
Harry,
I would have hoped this letter never reached you, but if you are reading this, we are not with you today. We could only hope that we would have been there, but sadly, it didn't come to pass.
One of the happiest days of my life was when I held you in my hands for the first time. You were so small and precious and beautiful. You had my heart instantly. I had to be forced out of the Hospital Wing to let your mother rest, but I just didn't want to. I was furious and if not for your Grandfather, I would have cursed Poppy something rotten.
I would never let you out of my sight. Wherever you go, I had to be there, and your parents and Charlus knew that there was no argument over that. You spent all your time with me and I loved it. Lily, bless her soul never complained much. She was happy that I would spend most of my time with you.
It was then that Dumbledore came to us. The situation outside is changing considerably. We are safe, but that is because people know not to mess with Charlus. Your Grandfather had quite the reputation. People knew not to cross him and they left our family alone. But we all knew that it would not be the same. Things were bound to change.
Dumbledore spoke something about a prophecy being made that involved you and Neville Longbottom, Augusta's grandson. The prophecy said something about you and the Dark Lord facing off and one of you coming out alive. It was a load of drivel alright, but the man insisted on taking it seriously.
It was natural that James and Lily would worry and to appease them, Charlus suggested they use one of our holiday homes in Godric's Hollow. Charlus made sure that every ward necessary was placed upon the house along with the Fidelius Charm. We did not like it, but we respected your mother's wish.
The poor girl barely slept peacefully for more than two hours at a stretch. It pained me to see her like that. I still don't understand why they paid so much importance to divination.
There should have been a lot of days we should have spent together, Harry. There were a lot of things that we wanted to tell you. Lot of moments we wanted to share, but if you are reading this, none of it has happened.
This painting was one of our most treasured possessions. Charlus had one copy of it placed in the vault and the other one is in our bedroom in the Potter Manor. I placed this letter among this painting for a reason. There is a trunk that Charlus used extensively among the pile of other chests in the vault.
He says that the chest is meant for your father and after him, for you. If James has not picked it up, your Grandfather is adamant that you take it.
Sorry, we couldn't be there for you, Harry. There are a lot of things we should talk about, but there is nothing more I can tell you in this letter. Just know that Charlus and I loved you. You were the world to us and I would have to curse our bad luck that we could not spend any more time with you.
Know that we will always be proud of you. You have great things in store for your future and whatever it may be, make sure you do it with your head held high. Wear your name with pride and honour. Have a great life, my dear. Find a great wife, have loads of children, and take good care of your parents.
Love,
Dorea
He smiled as he placed the letter next to him on his bed. The suspense was worth it. He had been shaking with nervous excitement ever since he returned from Gringotts. He had to bear the suspense for almost the entire day. Yes, he could have made some time but he wanted some space before he could read it.
He frowned in confusion as he remembered the prophecy part of the letter. There was a prophecy in his name? What was the prophecy about? Most importantly why was Dumbledore hiding the prophecy? He decided that he would question the man about it the next time they saw each other.
The matter of interest was the other aspect mentioned in his letter. The trunk his Grandmother spoke of must be important. He should write to Ripjaw and request him to send the trunk to Grimmauld. He would have brought it here but then decided against it.
He wondered what it was. It must be something important if his Grandfather was adamant that he take it. Was it the family grimoire? That made him sit up. He was looking forward to reading the Potter Grimoire ever since he heard about it from his Godfather.
He had expected to find it in the Potter family vault, but to his disappointment, he did not. He might find it in the Potter family home which was a thought for another day.
He pushed himself away from his bed and picked up a parchment and quill to send a message to Ripjaw and Sirius. He had not informed the man about his selection for the tournament. He guessed that the man would know about it by now, considering the news being published in the Prophet.
He was curious as to what the man would say about that. He would not be pleased, of that he was sure. Harry only hoped that the man would not be annoyed about having heard about the news from the Prophet.
The Tournament. He was curious as to what the tasks entailed, now that he was thinking about the competition. He was offered the chance to skip classes and prepare for the tasks, and he was thinking of taking it. He would not avoid going to his classes, but he did think of abstaining from attending a few every now and then when he was not in the mood. Potions or history, for example.
He heard the familiar hooting of his owl and grinned as he noticed the bird on his window. He whistled softly and held out his hand and the owl flew up to him, hooting gently.
"I need you to deliver two letters, Hedwig. Are you up to it?" The owl glared at Harry, seemingly offended that he would dare ask such a question.
"Go on girl," Harry muttered as he finished tying the scrolls to her leg. "One is for Ripjaw at Gringotts and the other one for Sirius."
The owl hooted her acceptance and flew out through the window as Harry returned to his bed several thoughts occupying his head. The past few days had been a roller coaster of emotions for the young man. The Tri-Wizard tournament with him visiting his parent's grave for the first time, taking up the Potter family responsibilities and reading a letter from his Grandmother.
His practices would continue. He decided that he would not go out of his way to practice for the tournament. His preparation and his goals were for one purpose and one purpose only. Voldemort. The tournament like Dumbledore said was nothing but a practice arena to see where he stood.
He had no idea how the tournament would be beneficial, but one side of him was curious to see what he would be doing. The Tri-Wizard tournament was a major competition when it used to be organized regularly almost a few centuries ago.
A tournament of bravery, guts and most importantly, magical ability would certainly not be a simple school-level sparring contest. The tasks would be more complicated than he is thinking of and he had no doubts about that.
He chuckled to himself. The students who were not selected and were annoyed would certainly not envy the decision of the Goblet once they get an idea about what the tasks would be.
This decision to revive this tournament was one of the biggest blunders the people in authority had managed and in a few weeks, he was sure that there would be staunch opposition to the idea. He still could not believe that Dumbledore and his fellow Heads agreed to such a decision.
He would like to admit that he knew Dumbledore a bit by now and he is not the kind of man who would wish harm upon another soul. He would ask the man the next time he would see him. He could guess what his answer would be, but he would like to hear from the man. Knowing the man, he might have worked out a bit further than the answer visible to the naked eye.
BREAK—--
Sirius was fuming. He had casually picked up the newspaper that was lying on top of the dining table and went through the first page.
FOUR CHAMPIONS AT THE TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT
He was intrigued and he read further into the article and picked up his coffee cup blowing gently at the hot liquid. The photo below gave him a pause. One was of Viktor Krum, the Quidditch superstar. The other photo was of a beautiful young woman, Fleur Delacour, being her name. The third one was Cedric Diggory, the son of Amos Diggory, a man he knew very well before he went to Azkaban and the fourth picture was of Harry.
"Why is a photo of Harry in this article?" It didn't take long for the man to put two and two together and he dropped the cup in his hand in shock, yelping as the hot liquid spilled over his thigh.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Sirius screamed in pain though his eyes never left the newspaper. His screaming brought Narcissa into the dining room.
"What is the matter with you?" She questioned her voice laced with anger. "Why are you shouting early in the morning?"
Sirius grumbled unhappily as he handed over the newspaper to the now irate woman and proceeded to pull out his wand, cleaning himself from the coffee stains on his clothes.
"This boy," The woman huffed, as she chucked the paper away. "How does he manage to find himself in trouble without even trying?"
She knew everything about the boy and his exploits having spent some time talking with him and if his mother was alive, she was sure that she would have suffered a heart attack dealing with the young man and the mess he was accustomed to.
"Did he tell you something about entering this competition?" Sirius questioned, wincing slightly as he healed a few minor burns courtesy of the hot beverage.
"No." The woman denied it. "In fact, he was adamant to stay away from anything related to the tournament. Guess he changed his mind then."
"That is very unlikely," Sirius muttered, shaking his head. "Well, he might have his reasons."
That was in the morning. They had just finished dinner and were seated in the living room when Harry's owl flew in through the window with two letters in its possession.
"What are you doing at this time of the night, Hedwig?" Narcissa questioned as the owl flew straight to the woman who proceeded to remove the letters tied to her leg.
"Why is he writing at this hour?" Sirius questioned as he received the letters from Narcissa.
"What is it?" Narcissa questioned after a few minutes of silence. Sirius crumpled one of the letters and threw it into the fireplace.
"A plot!" He hissed, as he stared into the fireplace. "Somebody entered his name into the Goblet and he was chosen. He didn't enter himself into the tournament."
Lucius's name popped up immediately to Narcissa. This was something that had his name written all over it. The man was a worm if there ever was one. Anything underhand needed to be done, Lucius could get it done without effort.
Narcissa feared that Lucius might have played a role in this on the orders of the Dark Lord. She conveyed the same to Sirius with hesitancy, fearing his reaction to an extent. Narcissa knew that Sirius would not take kindly to anything related to Lucius. If given the chance, Sirius would gladly bury Lucius alive.
The man appeared furious, but to her surprise, he didn't lash out. He balled his fists in anger but controlled himself from replying. With a deep breath, Sirius nodded slowly.
"Possibly. Mind you we have no evidence suggesting so, but your idea does have merit." Sirius seemed to be deep in thought for a few minutes.
"Has he tried to contact you in some way? I know you have not received any letters. Do you have a personal method of conveying messages?" He questioned, frowning at the woman.
"No. He has not written to me and he won't be. His so-called pride won't let him speak to me. It was me who left in the first place and, if necessary, I should be going back."
"So he would not try and make an effort for a relationship worth almost two decades?"
The woman sighed sadly. "Lucius Malfoy never married me for love, Sirius. Like many families that follow the system of contract marriages, it might have changed as years went by, but that was not my case."
"He never cared about me before the marriage, and he never cared about me after. I was a vessel to carry his child. That is it."
Sirius seemed conflicted as she finished speaking and he hesitated before steeling himself.
"Did he…" He hesitated once again. "Did he harm you?"
The woman smirked. "He wouldn't dare." She said. "He is all talk, Sirius. His specialities lie in dealing with matters in an unethical manner. He has his ancestor's money to throw around and get things done, but when it comes to facing somebody equally powerful or above his standards, he runs away with his tail tucked between his legs. He is a coward, Sirius. You don't have to think any differently. A coward with a lot of money and in turn a lot of influence in his hand."
Sirius hummed his agreement. His Grandfather had told him about the Malfoys. Less than pleasant people who thought themselves better than the rest. Acted privileged, and never hesitated to display wealth.
They could buy everything in the wizarding world by throwing away their money, but his Grandfather was always smug about one fact. History.
The Malfoys stand behind the Potters and Blacks in their wealth. That is a point that none of the families can boast of, but the Malfoys would become tight-lipped when questioned about their heritage.
There were a certain number of families who have been around for centuries and have amassed wealth and influence through time. Magical Britain also possessed a number of families who were very old but didn't carry the same amount of wealth, influence and power.
The former went on to possess representation in the administration of magical Britain called the Wizengamot, the magical parliament.
The Malfoys were a relatively new family and could not boast the same history as the rest of the elite of magical Britain. To compensate for the historical disadvantage, the Malfoys used their money, which is a powerful alternative.
They gained favours and partnerships with powerful families and gradually gained their confidence, instilling themselves among them with time. The Malfoys grew in wealth and to such an extent that many older families began to feel intimidated by the Malfoys, which the family capitalized very well.
Today, they have a few families in debt, both monetarily and morally, not to mention that they hold considerable sway over the Dark Faction of the Wizengamot, the families who were traditional blood purists and staunch supporters of the Dark Lord Voldemort.
Lucius Malfoy integrated himself with the Dark Lord by the time he was out of Hogwarts and with the passing of his father, the man had free reign to do as he wanted to.
The Dark Lord would have been in a different scenario if not for Lucius Malfoy and his influence. Inside men in every department of the Ministry, a seat on the Board of Governors of Hogwarts and ear of the sitting Minister of Magic and the previous minister. Lucius Malfoy can walk into the Ministry with blood-soaked clothes after a murder and still walk away as an innocent and upstanding citizen of magical Britain.
He was the reason why the Dark faction was winning the last war. The man weakened the Aurors considerably by passing laws that made them powerless to defend themselves against a threat who would not hesitate to kill while all they could do was stun them and disarm them at the most.
This took away any fear the death eaters possessed and gave them free reign over the society with none to protect. If not for that night with Harry and his parents, things would have been very different today.
There was one way to get to Lucius Malfoy and that is to hit him where it burns the most. That is facing the man one-on-one or reminding him of his historical standing when amongst the presence of the rest of the powerful purebloods.
The only way he can do that is by getting out of his current predicament. For that, they needed Pettigrew. Presenting him to the ministry would free him of his title as a murderer.
Harry had assured him that he would look for Pettigrew. Sirius did not know how he would manage that, but he would not go back on his word. He would not be running of this time. He needed to be there for his Godson and he would do so this time.
"What is in that other letter?" Narcissa questioned after a while. At the man's confused expression, the woman pointed to another letter that he had placed to the side.
"You seem to be deep in thought." She said as the man took up the other letter.
"He did not harm me, Sirius. He did not dare to do that and you think I would let him abuse me? I am a Black, Sirius. I have never stopped being one and my love for my son is what made me tolerate all the nonsense he pulled. If not for Draco, I would have left him long ago. I did not want my son to go through the pain of having to meet his parents and spend time with them under two different roofs."
"It is nothing much, but there is a trunk that belonged to Uncle Charlus in the Potter vault that he is supposed to retrieve. Apparently, he has assumed the Potter family responsibility as he is now considered eligible by the Gobet of Fire. He visited the vault and retrieved a letter that Aunt Dorea left him and she asked him to pick it up from the vault. He has asked us to convene with Ripjaw and bring that trunk to Grimmauld. He did not want to take it to Hogwarts and it is better that it was brought home."
Narcissa nodded her agreement, a contemplative look on her face. She seemed to be deciding on something and after a moment, she came to a decision.
"I will go and pick it up." She said. "It has been some time since I stepped out and I need fresh air. I will go to Gringotts, pick up the trunk, spend some time in the Alley and return."
Sirius nodded. He didn't fault the woman. She has been inside the place all day round for almost a few months now and it did not do them any good. The place was boring and unbearable, but Sirius could only ignore the urge to step out due to his current situation.
"Sure." Sirius agreed. "As you wish, but please do be careful. Your husband would not be pleased with how you left and he might cause some problems."
The woman got up and walked up to him with a smirk. She patted the man on his shoulder with a sigh.
"Don't worry, cousin. Lucius would not try anything with me. On the other hand, I would like to see him try. It would be fun." The man stared in disbelief as she walked away, chuckling after a moment.
"No wonder people fear us. The women folk are crazier than the men in this family."
BREAK—--
The whispers started as soon as he walked into the Great Hall. He shook his head with a sigh and began walking towards the Gryffindor table. He was not bothered by now. He was always being pointed at.
"Hey, Potter?" Harry fought the urge to groan. The first thing in the morning and he was supposed to speak to Draco Malfoy.
"Yes, Malfoy." Harry turned around, watching as the boy approached with his usual goons next to him. He felt sorry for Crabbe and Goyle. Why did the two follow him around religiously, he had no clue. The two certainly do not need to fear him. He guessed it was because of Lucius Malfoy.
"What can I do for you?" He questioned. The boy was looking surprisingly chipper early in the morning.
"How do you like the badges, Potter? Neat, don't you think?" Harry frowned.
"What are you on about?" Harry questioned. "What badges?"
Malfoy smirked as he pointed to a small badge pinned to his shirt. Harry frowned in confusion looking at Malfoy questioningly. He still did not get what the boy was trying to tell him.
"I will ask you again?" They had the eye of the audience by now. "What are you trying to do here?"
"Read it." And Harry did so. He recognised the writing on the badge. 'Support Cedric Diggory. The Real Hogwarts Champion.' The words flashed in a luminous red colour.
Harry shrugged. What was wrong with that? He surveyed the students in Slytherin and Hufflepuff sporting the same badges along with a few Ravenclaws.
"Fair enough." Harry shrugged. "Nothing wrong with it. I would route for Cedric myself." He began to walk back, but the boy spoke again.
"Why don't you read further?" Harry sighed in frustration, calming himself from spitting out an angry retort. He complied with his request, not wanting to cause more attention to himself.
This time, he observed that the previous wording changed into a different colour and this time he read something different on the badge.
'Potter Stinks.' He fought the urge to laugh as the majority of the hall burst out laughing and every badge in the hall mimicked the badge that Malfoy wore.
"Very mature, Malfoy. Very mature." He smiled as he shook his head. "Good job with the badges." He began stepping away leaving a fuming boy and smirked mentally.
Draco had walked in trying to get a raise out of him, but Harry genuinely found it funny. He was behind the days when he would let name-calling get a raise out of him. Harry placed an arm on the boy's shoulder, smirking mentally as the boy flinched slightly.
'Good. He still remembers what happened the last time we spoke.'
"So how do you feel doing this?" Harry questioned after a few seconds. "You feel you are the bigger man? Did you achieve something by doing something like that?" He nodded towards the badge.
Malfoy swallowed uneasily, stepping back slightly, not that Harry would have slapped him once again. He waited for the young man to respond, but didn't receive one. He smiled.
"Good for you, I guess." He shrugged, taking a step back.
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but calling me names won't hurt me. Calling me names, don't bother me. Be my guest. Call me a clown for all I care. Won't change a thing."
With that, he turned away, happy with how he had dealt with the boy in front of many eyes. He would have responded in kind, but this response was enough to deter the boy. He did not like to give Malfoy the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him.
Malfoy was insignificant. It was his father who needed to be kept under vigilance. Draco was immature and he did not have the balls to act. He only hoped that the boy would keep away from his path going forward.
He sat down at the Gryffindor table, ignoring the eyes on him. He was not surprised by the number of people who were wearing the badges. The Hufflepuffs did not like him at the moment and when have the Slytherins ever liked him?
"That was a great response," Ginny cut into his thoughts across from Harry. "I genuinely thought you would curse him. Stupid git." She muttered, shooting a glare at the Malfoy heir.
Harry could understand Ginny's reaction. Lucius Malfoy was responsible for almost killing the girl with an artefact belonging to Voldemort.
"Words are more powerful with people like him. Cursing him is the easy way out, but it is just unnecessary. Not to mention I need to answer Dumbledore and the Professors who are the authority around here." Ginny nodded her acceptance.
"Rumor has it that you are taking private lessons from Dumbledore for the sake of the tournament," Ginny replied as she took a bite of her food.
"Why would people think that?" Harry questioned. "Dumbledore has way better things to do than train me personally for a tournament."
Ginny frowned. "You were not seen attending classes for the past few days and people have assumed you are training privately with Dumbledore. Not just now, but most of the school still believes that you are being trained in advanced magic by Dumbledore all these years after your parent's death and you were hidden away from the public because of it."
"I stand by my words," Harry replied. "Dumbledore truly has better things to do than train a schoolboy in advanced magic. Maybe if I was his grandson, sure. But I am not."
Ginny held her hands in surrender. "I know that. I knew you had family business yesterday, but not everybody has an idea about the whereabouts of our resident celebrity."
Harry glared at the girl who smirked in return. "Never call me a celebrity, Ginny." He muttered as he took a bite. "I hate it when somebody refers to me as such."
"I know." Ginny nodded a mischievous grin on her face. "Why do you think I said it?"
Harry shook his head in disbelief. "What happened to the girl who would run away without saying a word when around me?" He sighed in mock disappointment.
"That girl was a sight better than this cheeky brat." The girl narrowed her eyes at his words, but the smile didn't leave her face.
"Well, you have not gotten on the wrong side of that shy girl. Don't go around starting now." She warned though her tone did not hold any seriousness.
"Do you know anything about the tasks?" Ginny questioned after a bout of silence. "I heard somebody speak about the tasks that are involved with the competition and that they are life-threatening."
"Surely they won't be dangerous would they?" She questioned, her face masking into worry.
"I don't know, Ginny." Harry shrugged. "The competition was scrapped for a reason, you know. The tasks would certainly not be easy. Life-threatening? I don't know till I see it."
"But if they have revived the tournament, shouldn't they have employed certain safety procedures to ensure nothing untoward happens?" She questioned heatedly.
"We do, Ms Weasley." The young woman was startled by the appearance of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "We do not have the full details about the tasks yet, but we will be equipped with information a week before the tasks. We are not supposed to inform the participants about the nature of the tasks, but suitable protections would be employed. The safety of the students in this scenario is a risk, but we will do everything in our power to make sure they are safe."
The man smiled. "Rest assured, Ms Weasley, I have no intention of letting harm befall my students in my presence."
"Thank you, Professor." Ginny nodded, slightly embarrassed that the man had managed to hear her speaking.
"Ah, don't mention it, my dear. It is my duty." The man nodded and took his leave.
"Well," Harry spoke. "There you have it. Dangerous, but there would be people looking out for us. Don't worry, Ginny. You will not be able to get rid of me easily." He gave a cheeky wink to the girl, smirking as she stared disinterestedly at him.
"Well, I need to get to class. See you around." Harry stood up as students began moving away from the Great Hall towards their classes.
He was about to exit the Great Hall when he ran into a familiar blonde from his time on the Express at the start of the year. He smiled.
"Hello, Luna." Harry smiled fondly at the young woman who waved back, her eyes lighting up briefly.
"Hello, Harry Potter."
"Are the nargles keeping away from you?" He observed a few Ravenclaw students stare at him as if he were a fool.
"Yes. They have left me alone for now." Luna replied as she looked around. "They are nearby, but they have decided to wait this time."
Harry chuckled. "This time, Luna, go to Professor Flitwick. Please don't hesitate. And please don't tolerate them."
"If you don't go to Flitwick, I will." It seemed to him that the girl was not paying attention to his words, but she nodded slowly in the end.
"Don't worry about it, Harry Potter. The nargles are always troublesome, but they always go away leaving behind my things." Luna waved her goodbye and walked away, and Harry sighed in disbelief. Why the girl hesitated to go and speak to Flitwick, he did not know. He was sure that his talking to the diminutive professor was what had kept the bullying away, but he didn't need to tell her that.
"Silly girl." Harry chuckled as he began moving towards his classes.
BREAK—--
A smile broke out on her lips as she watched the interaction between her fellow champion and the other boy. Fleur had seen the badges that the majority of the Hogwarts population had worn as she arrived for breakfast. She was disgusted by what she was seeing.
She had no qualms about the support to one of the Hogwarts champions, but insulting the other one was not right. She didn't know much about the youngest champion. Yes, she knew who Harry Potter was. The youngster was popular for defeating the Dark Lord Voldemort, but other than that, she had no idea about the boy.
She would not go as far as to guess the relationship between the students of Hogwarts and the boy, but considering the badges and the number of students wearing them, she did not think a lot of the students liked him.
Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall and a blonde-haired boy, Malfoy, she guessed walked up to him, most likely to start a fight. She had heard about the rivalry between the two from a few Hogwarts students.
Potter was genuinely confused and was looking to avoid the altercation at any cost. She doubted he would walk away knowing what the boy was trying to tell him. She would not.
Just when she assumed Potter would get angry and fire back, the boy laughed it off. He casually dismissed the fact that the majority of the school was mocking him and walked away without a word.
She would have cursed the boy who dared to mock her. She was not somebody who would let people run over her. She could not stop people from speaking about her, but she would never sit down and let them speak about her within earshot. She had cursed a few students back in Beaubaxtons for similar actions.
"I am surprised too." Claire cut in, breaking Fleur from her thoughts. "I heard a few students speak about the two of them." She nodded at Harry Potter and the Malfoy boy.
"Potter slapped Malfoy in public the last year." Fleur was taken by surprise at that piece of information. She turned back to watch Potter speaking animatedly to a red-haired girl.
"Truly?' Claire nodded. "The two hate each other with a passion. Their rivalry is well-known in the school, but Potter slaps him out in the open. I don't know why, but I heard it had something to do with his parents."
Fleur honestly thought Potter was a man of words rather than a man of action. He was an able wizard. You cannot throw off the imperious curse nor the veela allure without proper mental fortitude. But since the events with Professor Moody, she thought he was all talk more than work.
This boy was more interesting with each passing day. He makes things happen or things happen around him. Whichever it was, she was looking forward to the competition and how he would cope with three older students.
"What is your interest in Potter?" Claire questioned causing Fleur to frown. "What do you mean?"
"You seem to be interested in the boy. I have seen you, Fleur. Don't bother denying it. I have seen you seek him out during dinner and classes together with his housemates. I know he is an interesting character, but when it comes to you, I guess it is something more?"
The girl winked suggestively and Fleur choked on the drink that she was having at Claire's words, coughing into her palm, trying to glare at the girl who stared back with a cheeky grin on her face.
"Why are you this way?" Fleur groaned as the other girl rubbed her back, gently helping her calm down from the coughing fit that she had been put into.
"He is a little boy." Fleur deadpanned.
"Not so little." Claire shook her head. "Since when are fourth-year students, little boys?"
"When we are adults in the Wizarding Law and he or she is fourteen at the most." Fleur shot back only for Claire to huff.
"Fleur?" She cut in. "Your mother is five years older than your father."
"Shut up." Fleur shot back as she went back to her food, not meeting the sight of her friend, not wanting to let this escalate. Her interest in Harry Potter was purely competitive. He was a competitor and like the other two, she needed to know her competition.
Claire was right. She was trying to observe Potter, but the boy was unseen for the better part of three days ever since he was chosen as the Champion.
'One day. One day you will understand why my decision was my decision.' These were Dumbledore's words regarding Harry Potter when they arrived at Hogwarts. She did not know what the man meant by it back then and now, her curiosity only rose.
"Come on." Claire pulled the girl to her feet. "We have classes to get to."
"You know what," Fleur sighed. "I will take a leave today. I will try catching up on something that might help with the tournament."
Claire nodded. "Very well. I will see you back in our carriage."
The two parted ways and Fleur began walking back to her carriage weaving in and out of the student population with great speed, not wanting to draw any attention to her. So far, her experience with the Hogwarts male population had been limited and she had welcomed that.
She arrived at the open courtyard where many students were spending their free time and she made out Harry Potter walking a few metres away from her.
She watched as one of the students who belonged to Diggory's Hufflepuff house jumped in front of Potter, catching the boy by surprise.
"Hey, Potter. Neat isn't it?" The young man ignored the barb and tried to push ahead, but the older boy was joined by a couple of his friends who blocked his path.
"You just couldn't stay away from the spotlight could you?" He questioned, as the boys rounded upon the young man.
"I didn't enter into the competition," Potter replied and Fleur sighed in exasperation. He has been repeating the same words again and again but she doubted people believed him.
"I have no necessity to enter this tournament. As for the badges, you can wear them. They don't make any difference to me."
The older boy stepped closer to the younger man trying to look menacing. To his credit, Potter didn't back away. He stared back defiantly at the boy as his goons took a few steps forward.
"You will get what is coming to you, Potter. One of these days, you will pay for everything. Mark my words, everything you are doing will come back to you and not even your fame can save you from the trouble you will find yourself in."
To her surprise, Potter yawned directly in the face of the Hufflepuff student stretching himself off. The boy then had the gall to shake himself off and stare disinterestedly at the older boy.
"Is that all?" When he got no response, he pushed himself out of their way.
"Then I am going to take my leave. Thanks for the advice. When the day comes, let me know about it will you?"
The group of boys were stunned at his response especially the leader of the group whose face had turned red in anger at the casual dismissal from Potter.
"You bastard!" The boy roared as he grabbed Potter by his collar and pulled him back his other hand raising threateningly only for Potter to drive his elbow into his side.
The boy doubled down in pain trying to catch his breath. His friends moved to attack the young man but in a flash, Potter had raised his wand and with a singular sweeping motion, banished the group with considerable force putting some distance between them.
When his attackers made to go for their wands, Potter sprang into action, swishing his wand three times and Fleur watched as their wands flew into his waiting hand, proceeding with binding the group of boys making sure that they were incapacitated.
Fleur was taken aback by the expression of the younger man who now looked murderous.
"If you want to fight, say so. We will arrange for one. If you want to pick a fight, be man enough to do it to my face." He warned to the leader of the group.
"Never lay your hands on me," Potter whispered. "Next time, I will chop them off." She did not need convincing to tell her that the boy meant every word of it.
He glared distastefully at the boys before shaking his head in disappointment.
"Fucking cunts!" He spat, turning around and leaving the courtyard.
'This boy keeps on getting interesting.' She thought as she began walking away to her carriage.
BREAK—-
He was fuming. He had expected somebody to speak out. There was bound to be somebody who would question him, but the bastard pulled his collar out in public. He would have forgone the insults to some extent, but he would not let some idiot walk all over him.
Harry took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down. He decided to skip his classes for today. He had a few spells he needed to perfect and with the first three hours being potions today, he was glad to be away from the class and the professor who thought the class.
He made his way towards the Great Lake where he had found a peaceful spot to get his work done. The place was far away from the nuisance of the school and he needed some silence right now.
Leaning back against the tree trunk he pulled out a worn-out book he had obtained from Lord Black's study back in Grimmauld. He was the Heir Black and Sirius had instructed him to use the study whenever he wanted to.
This book was placed in the drawer of the huge mahogany table in the room. He picked it up out of curiosity and that was when he read the name 'Arcturus Black' written in bold letters. It was Sirius's Grandfather's book and it seemed like a personal diary of sorts.
He hesitated to open the book, thinking it was a personal diary, but to his shame, his curiosity won. He drew a line for himself and decided that he would look into the first page and the first page only.
To the reader,
If you have managed to find this book, then you are somebody of my blood. The book was placed in my study and none apart from my heir would be able to find it.
This book was maintained by me for the better part of my life. It holds several spells that I looked into along with my friend when on the continent and even after that once we returned. There are spells that we have managed to improve. There are spells that we managed to find out by chance and managed to look further into and there are spells that were lost for many years due to lack of further explanation. Charlus and I have worked out a few of those spells and have managed to find some explanations about the magic involved.
The magic in here, if you want to learn, should not be considered lightly. Exercise caution. Practice with care.
The book was incredible. His Grandfather and Great Uncle had invested considerable time into this book or rather the spells in them. The spells were listed along with detailed explanations regarding the principle of the spells, their counters and their side effects, if any.
He was working on one of the spells that had caught his attention. A flame whip. The terminology seemed simple, but there was more to the spell.
The spell would help him conjure a whip, but one made out of fire. The spell needed extreme control over the wizard's magical control. The flame whip is difficult for one reason in particular.
Unlike the name, the whip is invisible to the naked eye. The spell leaves the wand with an orange glow before disappearing immediately. The whip is invisible and is named the Flame Whip because of the colour during the casting of the spell.
The whip is not visible and that is the speciality of the spell. An invisible force decapitates the recipient of the spell and is nigh impossible to shield with the usual shielding spells.
But the drawback is that the spell can backfire and cleave the castor's hand off. The spell requires a lot of concentration. There is no wand movement to the spell and is cast without an incantation which makes the spell difficult.
If not cast properly, the whip is out of control and there is a chance that the spell folds back towards the castor in turn chopping their hand off and if not careful, there is a chance that the spell might cut the person into two.
Harry stood up and approached the water body ahead of him. He placed the book back into his pocket and flicked his wand into his palm.
With a few deep breaths, he raised his wand and grit his teeth, shaking slightly as he felt the magic building up in his palm. The next moment, an orange glow was seen out of his wand and Harry was sure he heard a gentle hiss and the next thing he knew, an invisible force struck the water body and he observed the water separate a few inches in a straight line reminiscent of a cut.
Harry took a deep breath and this time applied more force to his magic and he cast the spell once again. This time, the cut grew in length and depth displacing the water in the lake and Harry smiled.
'This is fantastic.'
He shook his head as he stepped away from the border of the lake and chuckled, a satisfied expression on his face.
'I wonder what the next spell is?' Was the last thing that he thought of as he dropped down to the floor under the tree, his hands going back to his pocket for the book once again.
TBC—--
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