AUTHORS NOTES: Hello everyone now there is no warnings in this one BUT that doesn't mean it's not going to be good. Hope you enjoy it. Happy reading!
Chapter#5
You could have heard a pin drop. Despite all the antagonism of the past twelve hours, the four school champions were standing together, the three taller figures obviously taking up points of guard around the smallest. Two of them were wearing official robes. Once they came close enough to the staff table for the professors to see the crests, all blood drained from their faces. And as suddenly as the silence had come, it was broken. The Hogwarts students were on their feet, yelling and shouting, while the foreigners were conspicuously silent. Madame Maxime looked like a cat who'd just gotten her cream and her canary. Karkaroff looked outraged that one of his students would go behind his back like this. But the look on Dumbledore's face was utterly pensive-worthy. He looked every last one of his years in that moment
"Harry Potter has declared political asylum from Bulgaria" Viktor announced stoically "he is Bulgarian political refugee. You have no right to speak to him unless it is through a Bulgarian international delegation, and dere is only ovne here – me. He is no longer student of Hogwarts or British citizen and vill reside in Durmstrang quarters. Dat is all"
The four of them turned as one to sit in the middle of an empty table specially made for the international students. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang further surprised the English students by rising from their respective places all over the hall on the other tables and seating themselves together, as one solid unit. While it was a small delegation, numbering less than thirty students altogether, they represented the cream of the crop of the new generation of Continental wizards and witches. One move against any of them would pull England into the biggest international disaster since Grindelwald. Dumbledore regained a bit of his grandfatherly persona and his bright blue eyes began to twinkle
"Mr. Potter, perhaps I could have a word-…" Dumbledore started
"Headmaster, Viktor spoke in perfectly clear English" Cedric said. Hogwarts students all across the hall were stunned. They had never heard the Hufflepuff prefect speak in such cold tones. Usually, Cedric, with his fair complexion and wide-open smile, was the epitome of his house. But now…. "the only one that can relay whatever you wish to say to Harry is Viktor. If you would, kindly go through the correct political channels"
"Mr. Diggory-…" an irate McGonagall began
"Professor, no disrespect meant, but I don't know what you adults were thinking when you accused a fourteen-year-old muggle-raised child of hoodwinking an ancient artefact" Cedric said, if anything, Cedric's voice was even icier "and then you force him to compete in a tournament where adults with twice his training have been killed. I don't know what game you're playing at, but whatever it is, leave Harry out of it"
No one saw the sudden gleam of shrewdness flash in Moody's one good eye. Cedric turned away from a stunned Gryffindor head of house back to his breakfast. Sprout was so shocked that she couldn't even take away points from Cedric for being disrespectful to a teacher
"Ere, Arry, you must eat more" Fleur murmured in the shocked silence
Adding some scrambled eggs to his plate, and pouring him a cup of milk. They jeered at him in the corridors, of course. They'd never stop, would they? It didn't matter if he was trying to help them or not. They all presumed to know him since they knew his story, knew his name. He turned his mind away from the English and sighed. He couldn't even bear to think upon those he had personally known, for over three years. He could only thank Merlin that Viktor wasn't like that
Page Brake/Time Skip
He wiggled around in his bed and looked at the older teenager sleeping soundly behind him. After the first night, Viktor had been even more insistent that he take the bed again, but apparently, he hadn't been expecting him to be just as stubborn as well. A tiny smile graced his lips at the memory he had been sorted into Gryffindor, after all. Viktor had blushed at his suggestion, although he hadn't quite understood why. He gently stretched out a hand and touched Viktor's Quidditch-toned arm. The feel of the other's flesh and muscle was warm, and its solidity comforted him. Viktor was present Viktor was there. He closed his eyes against the soft feel of his pillow and the heat emanating from the form beside him, and let Morpheus take him
PAGE BRAKE/TIME SKIP
"Viktor, I have a question" Harry said.
Viktor had to fight the grin that threatened to overtake his face. A week he had spent with Harry Potter, and the boy had been nothing but unfailingly polite, never asking anything for himself, instead continually wondering if Viktor needed any assistance. His behaviour was subservient, almost house-elfish. And when English wizards had tried to waylay him in the corridors, his smaller form had shrunk against Viktor's, quailing beneath the harsh eyes and harsher voices. Viktor had pondered the hints the boy had dropped unwittingly from time to time: the comment about the closet, and Dobby the house-elf; if Harry had truly been mistreated as Viktor suspected, then it didn't surprise him that he would play the knight in shining armour for another creature as morbidly abused as Dobby had been, even if the Malfoys were in the legal clear for their mistreatment of their house elf. He had considered calling Dobby to him and interrogating the creature about Harry's past, but didn't fool himself into thinking that such a move wouldn't completely destroy any of the boy's trust for him. He would have to wait for Harry to tell him himself- if he ever did. Viktor turned to Harry, a faint smile on his lips
"Vat is it?" Viktor asked.
Harry was tugging at his shirtsleeves, a sure sign that he was nervous
"I was…. was wondering, about political asylum" Harry said, Viktor nodded encouragingly
"Yes?" Viktor said
"I was wondering if…. if you'd offer that to someone else, too?" Harry asked, now he'd gone and gotten Viktor curious
"Somevone else? Who?" Viktor asked
"My godfather" Harry said in a small voice
"Who is dat? And vhy vould he be running avay from British vizards?" Viktor asked
"He was framed!" Harry exclaimed heatedly, a rather cross frown adorning his small face "the more I think about it, the more-…" he shook his head, sending his dark locks flying everywhere. He was growing the wild mop out, and at this stage it rather threatened to overtake the thin pale face beneath, but Harry had said he liked it long, and so Viktor didn't comment "he never got a trial. They just threw him into Azkaban without even having the courtesy to tell him his sentence to his face" he spat, emerald eyes flashing.
Viktor carefully tilted Harry's chin up to face him, and inwardly marveled at the myriads of emotions across his face. His expression had never been more open than now
"I vill see vat ve can do for him" Viktor said "I cannot promise miracles, but if he has been as vronged as you say, dere is definitely a case ve can build" he paused, and his dark eyes raked over the white face staring back at him "who is he?" he asked again.
Then Harry told him, and all other questions became irrelevant
PAGE BRAKE/TIME SKIP
"He's Sirius Black" Viktor said, again speaking in their own language
"Sirius Black? The mass murderer?" Branimir asked, Viktor shook his head in the mirror
"According to Harry, he had nothing to do with those murders. It was Peter Pettigrew- the other friend of the Potters', the one awarded the Order of Merlin, who's supposed to be dead. Black thought he-who-must-not-be-named would never go after a weakling like Pettigrew, and then went off and tried to attract the dark lord's attention. But Pettigrew was a death eater, and he betrayed them" Viktor explained
"How-…" Branimir choked, and cut himself off "how did no one hear of this? He was the most feared 'death eater' in the whole of Europe for a time and he's been out for what more than a year?"
Viktor shrugged, concerned less with the how's and more concerned with the what's-to-be-done-about-it's
"I have wondered about it too" Viktor said. Branimir hid a smile at his son, so innately incurious "Harry is wondering if you will extend the same courtesy to Black as you have to him"
Branimir pondered thoughtfully. It would be fun going behind the British Ministry's and tweaking their nose like this. They were making no allies here in England, certainly, but a over the rest of the wizarding world, Bulgaria had never been more popular
"It will be difficult" Branimir said at last "we cannot be seen as openly aiding Black in any way. If he can make it to Bulgaria without being caught-…" he trailed off, and Viktor let out a low whistle.
Bulgaria was not a stone's throw away from Britain, which was where he understood his charge's godfather to be
"I will let him know, then" Viktor said
"You do not think he will be upset at this verdict?" Branimir asked, honestly curious.
Viktor gave his father a small smile, and thought of the flash of cunning and resourcefulness that would surface from emerald depths more and more frequently
"I do not know how, but I am sure Harry will come up with something" Viktor said
PAGE BRAKE/TIME SKIP
He told Harry his father's words later that day. Harry nodded thoughtfully, accepting his words at face value. He thanked him, and then continued petting Hedwig, although a while later he pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled something when he thought Viktor wasn't looking. He pretended to turn about for a book, which gave Harry the opening he needed to send Hedwig out the window. That same evening, he spotted Harry trotting to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Curious, and more than a little worried, he followed the boy at a discrete distance. When he reached a spot where the foliage grew thickest, he heard a rustling, and he gaped as a Grim, half-buried beneath handfuls of dried leaves, rose to its feet. The monster was huge, coming up almost to his waist and easily towering over Harry in sheer bulk. When it caught sight of the boy, its long pink tongue lolled out of its mouth in greeting. Its open mouth did nothing to hide the inch-long fangs that would fit all too easily around Harry's arm
"Hey, Snuffle's" Harry greeted the dog softly, stroking the sensitive ears. Viktor barely managed to stop himself from snorting at the banality of the name. Then he dug in the pocket of his robes and produced a key. The Grim let out a piteous whine that seemed most out of character for a death-dog "knowing you, you've probably gone and lost yours over the summer, haven't you? Don't argue with me, Snuffles, the goblins won't mind. How else do you explain my Firebolt?" the Grim seemed to grin and gave Harry's fingers a tentative lick "besides, Dumbledore probably has the Ministry watching your vault's now," Harry said "but I don't think they watch mine" he slipped the key into an envelope, which he sealed and handed to the Grim. The canine took it gingerly between its enormous teeth "just give that to the goblin at the counter. If they're really as greedy as everyone says they are, they won't turn down a hundred galleon bonus to make you an international portkey. Cedric always talks about how his dad goes to Gringotts for his portkeys, that they're much more secure than wizard-made ones. They cost less than a hundred galleons, so I'm sure that's a decent enough bribe" the Grim whined, beating its tail loudly against the ground, and flattened its ears against the top of its head. Harry laughed softly and patted it on its huge head "get out of here, Padfoot. Go get your freedom, and when you get back, we can talk some more"
The Grim darted forward and rested its grimy head against Harry's chest for a brief moment, and then turned about and disappeared into the forest. Two days later, Branimir called. Sirius Black was now a political refugee in Bulgaria. Over the demands of the British, he was given a public trial using Veritaserum and cleared of all charges. He was then declared the legal guardian of one Harry James Potter