A Familiar Bond: Chapter 11 (Patreon)

The month of October passed amidst the usual chaos that was Hogwarts. With the selection of the Champion of Hogwarts done, it brought with it the usual attention Harry was expecting. Although slightly put out that his relative solitude was being infringed upon by random people eager to either congratulate him, encourage him, or in certain odd cases, express how unfair it was that a fourth-year was representing Hogwarts when there were witches and wizards older and more capable than him, Harry let it all pass by.

They were gathered on the grounds to welcome the other two schools and their delegations. All the students were standing in rows behind Dumbledore who stood at the front with Harry by his side as was customary for the Champion and the teachers standing right behind them.

Harry could feel a few glares directed at him from students and a certain member of the faculty alike and he expertly ignored them. It was not as if he could control it.

“I never thought I would be in this position,” Dumbledore remarked beside him. Harry kept staring ahead but tilted his head a bit to indicate that he was listening.

Dumbledore continued, “The Triwizard Tournament stood cancelled for a couple of centuries when I was a student here, and in all these years, it has remained cancelled, and for good reason. I never expected that I would be the one to welcome the delegations after so long.”

Harry chuckled, “Always expect the unexpected, headmaster.”

Dumbledore smiled.

“Indeed. And if I am right, here comes the first delegation.”

Harry followed Dumbledore’s line of sight and looked at the bubbling Great Lake. A massive ship surfaced from underwater, water dripping along its sides before it glowed. He watched on as steam rose from the ship with a sharp hiss that carried over to where the Hogwarts contingent was gathered.

“Fancy,” he remarked dryly. Dumbledore chuckled.

“Karkaroff likes his theatrics,” he remarked. Harry frowned.

“You’re really fine with him being at Hogwarts?”

Dumbledore stroked his beard as they saw the Durmstrang students disembark from the ship and march forward in a single file.

“I have full faith in his cowardice. He won’t try anything.”

“I’ll trust your judgement then,” Harry replied and turned towards the wizard with the large goatee.

“Ah, Dumbledore!” Karkaroff greeted jovially, and Dumbledore clasped his arm. Harry watched a familiar face trailing behind the former Death Eater, recognizing him instantly.

“Igor, welcome to Hogwarts,” the aged headmaster replied politely. Karkaroff glanced at him out of the corner of his eye but paid him no mind. He turned to stare at the magnificence that was Hogwarts and sighed dramatically.

“Oh, old Hogwarts, how I’ve missed you.”

Harry snorted inaudibly, earning a small smirk from Dumbledore.

“Have the French arrived yet?” He asked Dumbledore, who smiled.

“Not yet. Their arrival is imminent though.”

Karkaroff nodded before patting the wizard with him firmly on the back.

“You must know who this is. Victor will be the Champion of Durmstrang,” he declared proudly, and the chatter that had been prevalent ever since Krum had come into the line of sight of Hogwarts students intensified. Excited whispers permeated the columns as the news travelled like wildfire.

“I am positive that your champion will do your institution proud. You must know who this is as well. Mr Potter here will be the Champion of Hogwarts,” Dumbledore replied kindly.

Karkaroff staggered a bit as he stared at him. His eyes fell on his forehead where the mark used to be.

“I-I see… It seems I failed to recognise such a personality. Pardon me, Mr Potter. Without that famous mark on your person, - “

Harry cut him off with a chuckle, least interested in hearing the man talk more than necessary.

“No harm done, sir.”

Turning towards Krum, he held his hand out to shake, “I hope we have a good contest, Mr Krum.”

The older wizard frowned at him but shook his hand.

“Da. I look forward to that.”

Harry smiled.

“It seems the final guests have arrived,” Dumbledore intoned politely, smiling at him before looking upwards. They turned to see a massive carriage being pulled by Abraxan horses as it slowly came closer.

Harry winced when the carriage hit the ground not so gracefully and hoped that appropriate charms had been placed on it to cushion the impact. The carriage came to a stop roughly fifty metres from them and they watched as the door opened and out came a student clad in blue silk robes. The young wizard shivered before quickly casting a warming charm on himself and rolling a wide red carpet out.

Out of the carriage emerged who was quite easily the tallest person Harry had ever seen, taller than even Hagrid.

The witch walked out and took a few steps forward before looking behind her. A witch clad in the same blue silk uniform walked out behind her, with her face wrapped in a scarf and Harry could only make out her blue eyes as they gazed at everything around her. One by one, the students filed out and they saw the tall witch walk towards them.

“Monsieur Dumblydorr!” The woman greeted in an uncharacteristically deep voice, and Harry fought to keep the laugh in at the way she butchered the headmaster’s surname. Dumbledore gave him an amused glance and took the woman’s hand, planting a soft kiss on the back.

“Madame Maxime, I welcome you to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore greeted politely, and Maxime smiled.

“Monsieur Karkaroff,” she greeted curtly. The headmaster of Durmstrang responded in kind.

“I hope it would not be a bother, Monsieur, if we go in? My students are not used to this cold,” Madame Maxime said softly. Dumbledore nodded graciously and nodded towards McGonagall. With a smile, they watched as the contingent of Beauxbatons walked in behind their headmistress and the deputy of Hogwarts, and the two older witches quickly engaged each other in a friendly discussion.

Soon, the Durmstrang contingent also walked in, led by Flitwick, before Dumbledore allowed the Hogwarts contingent to be dismissed. Everyone walked inside until only Harry remained with Dumbledore and they saw Valerie walk forward with a smile.

“Well, the castle will surely be quite full this year,” she joked, earning a chuckle from him. Dumbledore smiled.

“You’ll be having dinner on a separate table tonight,” the headmaster informed Harry, who looked at him in surprise.

“What?” He asked. Dumbledore nodded.

“This is a welcoming feast, so you will be eating together with the Champions. It is a small part of international co-operation. We shall have the official contract signing after dinner.”

Harry sighed and nodded, before looking at Valerie, who smiled at him.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be with Luna,” said Valerie, smiling.

Harry nodded.

XXXXX

The Great Hall was bustling with noise as students from all three schools were gathered inside. All four house tables were filled to the brim, with the Durmstrang students sitting at the Slytherin table and the students from Beauxbatons joining the Ravenclaws.

The teachers had taken their seats at the head table, overlooking the entire hall that had been decorated with bright chandeliers and massive tapestries depicting all four houses and their achievements in all their splendour. There was a golden glow to the Great Hall, normally absent but now quite apparent.

Members of the press and many officials from the respective ministries and the ICW were in attendance, sitting at the head table and looking on.

A handsome blonde wizard with a well-maintained beard walked over to the podium with a smile on his face. Holding his wand at his neck, the wizard cleared his throat, and all chatter stopped. Students and teachers alike looked at the smiling wizard.

“Welcome, students and faculty alike, to the commencement ceremony of the Triwizard Tournament,” the wizard smiled, and a small round of applause rang out.

“A series of competitions have been held in all three schools, and one student from each has been chosen to represent them in this historical tournament. I am positive that you all are as excited to meet the three champions as I am, so I won’t delay it any further. Let us welcome our wizarding society’s newest throng of immortals!”

Holding his arms open wide, the wizard proclaimed, “Representing the Durmstrang Institute from Northern Europe and accompanied by the highmaster of Durmstrang, Igor Karkaroff – Victor Krum!”

A massive roar of applause rang out throughout the hall as the international Quidditch icon came in from the door to the side with Karkaroff walking right beside him, smiling with obvious pride as he held his head high.

They all watched as Krum took his seat on a round table that had been set in the middle, with Karkaroff sitting beside him.

“Now! Representing the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic from Southern France and accompanied by the headmistress of Beauxbatons, Olympe Maxime – Fleur Delacour!”

A round of polite applause rang out around the hall which dimmed abruptly as the witch walked in with her headmistress beside her. Women around the hall watched as most of the wizards paused mid-applause and stared at the witch, who looked distinctly uncomfortable for a moment before reaffirming her resolve and walking forward with her head held high.

Several glares were directed at the wizards who were leering and the French witch in equal proportion as she took her seat at the round table. Her headmistress sat right beside her and nodded at Karkaroff who was sitting opposite her beside Krum.

Fleur had a feeling this might happen, and that was the reason why she was not willing to take off her scarf. However, Madame Maxime had been insistent. It would have been rude, and rightly so if she kept herself hidden when she was competing in this tournament. Her eyes fell on her competition and she sighed in relief when he seemed to be holding himself rather fine.

“And finally!” The shout of the announcer made her look at him, “Allow me to welcome the Champion of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Accompanied by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore – Harry James Potter-Black!”

Fleur’s eyes widened a bit as she looked at the tall young man who came out with the legendary wizard beside him, and even from this distance, she could feel the power rolling off both wizards in waves. Belatedly, she noted the rather subdued applause that the champion of Hogwarts received, even from his own school, and she frowned. It seemed not everyone was happy with Harry Potter being the champion, something she could perfectly relate to. After all, she was in the same boat as him with her school.

Harry and Dumbledore came over to the round table and the headmaster took his seat with a grace that defied his age, leaving the final spot to the raven-haired wizard who took it with a smile. He gave everyone a polite nod and looked at the announcer.

“Now that the three champions have been revealed, I believe it is time to indulge in some exquisite cuisine to commemorate this historical day. We will shortly be underway with the official contract signing, before the champions shall answer the questions from the press. I don’t know about you all, but I’m looking forward to the tournament starting officially very soon.”

Silence fell over the Great Hall before small chattering filled it. Soon, dinner was underway and Harry saw the different types of dishes which he assumed were from France and beyond.

He took a bit of each dish on his plate and waited for everyone to be done before starting.

“This is nice,” he commented, addressing no one in particular.

“That is the Bouillabaisse. It is very famous in France,” Fleur replied politely. Harry looked at her and nodded. She had a very melodic voice, a fact that he could not help but notice. He took another sip as she watched with a small smile.

“I taste… fish?” He asked. Fleur nodded.

“It is fish stew,” she took a sip herself and nodded, “very well made too.”

They went back to eating with nothing said thereafter. Harry tasted every dish and he had to admit that he liked the variety that was on offer.

“I don’t think we could have this kind of variety every once in a while, right?” He joked, looking at Dumbledore who chuckled.

“Not everyone will welcome it.”

Harry sighed, “It wouldn’t hurt this lot to broaden their minds a bit.”

Dumbledore chuckled but did not comment. Krum and Karkaroff stayed silent throughout the dinner and Harry noticed the latter looked quite jittery whenever he glanced at him. He chuckled to himself.

He made some small talk with Fleur Delacour. She was a polite woman, and he caught her glancing at him every so often when she thought he was not looking.

He also noted a few males who were quite blatantly leering at the French witch and the few witches with them who seemed to be glaring at her and the males in question, and he could not help but frown.

Finally, they were done with dinner and the dishes vanished before they were asked to stand to the side. The moment they did so, the round table transformed into a long table with six chairs, and they took the seats in the order they were sitting, with Dumbledore and Harry sitting in the middle as representatives of the host school.

Harry saw Fudge accompanied by a tall blonde wizard and another broad-shouldered wizard with dark hair come over. They each levitated a thick folder and placed one in front of all of them.

The announcer kept chattering as Fudge explained everything to them.

“You shall sign these contracts signifying your assent to compete in this tournament. I hope you had your solicitors look them over?”

Harry caught the eye of Ted who was present with the delegates and the older wizard nodded. He gave a polite nod back.

Once they were gestured to go ahead, Harry pulled the quill from the small hook attached to one side of the folder and dipped it in ink before signing right above the small marks on the parchment. He watched as all three folders glowed before vanishing.

Cameras kept flashing all the while, just like they had when they entered, and they looked up. The press had already gathered for the conference, and it seemed it would take place right in front of everyone as well. Harry looked around and saw a few enchanted cameras floating around.

‘Well, at least everything would be transparent,’ he thought and looked ahead.

“Now that we have got the official contract signing done, we will take some questions from the press. For convenience, translation charms are operating. Please state your name and the organisation you work with. We will start with Mr Krum first,” the blonde man announced with a smile as he stood by the podium.

A couple of hands were raised and the man pointed at one.

The man offered a polite greeting to Krum, which Krum returned, before asking him what he was expecting in this tournament. Krum kept his answer short, simply opting to say that he was looking forward to the challenges and competing against the best. Short and precise.

Another witch went ahead, and Harry was left disappointed when she revealed that she was from that gossip rag called Witch Weekly. He tuned her out right after that.

Finally, the reporters were done with asking Krum and it was Fleur’s turn.

A bespectacled witch with curly-blonde hair raised her hand, and Harry had a bad feeling about her. His face twisted into a grimace when the woman introduced herself.

“Miss Delacour, is it true that you are a veela?” The woman asked in a simpering tone.

Harry was not surprised when Fleur answered in affirmative, having already realised the fact after observing the reaction of the opposite sex. Not to mention the slight pull he could feel from her as well.

The reporter got a predatory smile, and Harry had a bad feeling.

“There are proven facts that Veela can ensnare people of the opposite sex to do their bidding. How much possibility is there for you to use your heritage to gain an upper hand in this tournament?”

Harry was surprised at the brazen way this reporter had asked this question, and he could see many others frowning as well. The announcer made to interrupt before Fleur answered with as much politeness as she could muster.

“You can be assured, Miss Skeeter, that I will not need to use my Veela heritage to compete in this tournament. I am confident in my abilities as a witch and I cannot wait to prove myself to the people of magical society.”

Skeeter’s floating quill noted the answer, her face twisted into a forced smile as she sat back. Harry ignored her when her eyes turned towards him.

The regular types of questions made their round once again, and Fleur answered all of them politely, keeping it simple until she was done.

Finally, it was Harry’s turn and he saw, to no surprise of his, that all the reporters had something to ask of him. Since it was getting late and they could not afford to spare as much time, only three were selected, one from each nation’s leading newspaper.

The first was a Bulgarian, who asked him whether he intended to utilize his skills on a flying broom to compete against Krum. Harry gave his fellow champion a small smile and agreed that it would be a great experience to compete with someone like Krum and that he admired the Bulgarian’s skills. That seemed to appease the reporter.

The next was a French witch who asked him what he was looking for in the tournament. The question made him think for a moment before his eyes fell on Slughorn who was looking at him with a smile. He smirked internally.

Harry spared no thought and freely admitted that he had high ambitions and that the tournament would help him fulfil them. The fact that he wanted to elevate his stature beyond his childhood fame garnered him a few looks of respect from the officials and teachers alike, and he saw his fellow champions look at him out of the corner of his eyes.

In the end, it came to the Daily Prophet’s reporter who would be covering the tournament, and Harry grimaced slightly before putting on a fake smile.

“Harry… May I call you Harry?”

He did not see any harm, so he shrugged. The witch grinned.

“Given you are much younger than both of your competitors, how do you think you’d be able to compete against them? Can the British magical society expect to be humiliated in this tournament?”

Instead of putting him on the defensive as the witch would have expected, she was taken aback when Harry grinned ferally.

“Who am I, Miss Skeeter?” He asked in return, and did not bother to let her get a word in.

“Oh, don’t answer it. That was rhetorical,” he interrupted. “You’ll find, Miss Rita Skeeter, that I have a particular track record of doing things people might not expect. After all, it’s common knowledge that I offed the pathetic thug named Voldy when I was one. I believe I can uphold the honour of our country just fine, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

Eyes widened around the hall at his audacity. The fact that he had butchered that taboo name with such nonchalance did not escape anyone. Harry saw Karkaroff look at him apprehensively and Skeeter staring at him with an ashen look.

‘That should give you a taste, bitch. Come at me again, and I’ll not be so lenient.’

His eyes met Valerie’s on the Ravenclaw table where she was sitting with Luna, and the smouldering look in them made him shift in his seat.

‘Well, looks like I’m getting lucky tonight,’ Harry thought with a grin as the announcer quickly filled in.

What he did not notice was the equally interested look a certain blonde veela was giving him out of the corner of her eyes.

XXXXX

“Now that we are done with the press conference, it is time to announce what the first task shall be,” the announcer declared, and everyone looked at him.

“The first challenge shall take place on the 24th of November, and the champions can enter with nothing but their wand and their clothing on their person. ICW authorized combat gear shall be provided to the champions right before every challenge in this tournament.”

Harry just waited for the man to get to the point.

“What would the first challenge be? That question shall be answered on the 24th of November one hour before its commencement. After all, the true test of a witch or a wizard is to overcome the unknown.”

Harry frowned slightly. That complicated things. With no idea what to expect, it had become slightly more challenging.

“However,” the announcer smirked, “there is one little thing you can be told about. The task shall be comprised of one elective subject you choose in your third year. Which one? Figure it out on your own. You’ll know if you got it right on the 24th. Until then, I wish you all a very good luck at preparation.”

The gathering was disbursed soon after. Harry stayed by Dumbledore’s side for a while as the champions were properly introduced to the dignitaries who had arrived for the ceremony. All the while, Harry kept Slughorn somehow near, trying to include the man in his talks with the foreigners. It was apparent that even someone as shrewd and as reaching as Slughorn was slightly overwhelmed, yet no less enthusiastic.

The glowing looks the older man was giving him throughout the gathering had him feeling that he was in the right direction. Coupled with the fact that they had been meeting every couple of days a week since that class made him feel that it would not be long before Harry established himself firmly in Slughorn’s circle of most trustworthy people.

He talked with his fellow champions as well, although Krum stayed mostly silent, only replying whenever he was personally addressed. At other times, he seemed uninterested. Harry didn’t bother much with him after that, instead opting to talk to Fleur who was more open to converse.

She told him about her father who was a member of the French legislature and her mother who was also a veela and owned a designer clothing brand with outlets in every magical settlement in France. It was apparent that they were part of the French elite.

She was an interesting witch, and Harry could easily gather from their conversation that she had knowledge in abundance, both magical and political. The way she talked to other politicians and officials was enough to clue him in. This woman could transition into a bureaucratic life tomorrow and no one would be able to guess that she was new.

He could feel her magic wafting over him during the evening, oozing calmness, and it was enough to tell him that she was a powerful witch who would pose a good challenge in this tournament. Even Krum was a powerful wizard under that aloof exterior of his. He was looking forward to testing his mettle against these two.

XXXXX

Right after the assembly had been dismissed, all students made their way to their respective common rooms. The students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons would be staying inside the castle, with the former having been allotted rooms in the dungeons while the latter would be on the fifth floor.

As Valerie walked with Luna towards the Ravenclaw tower, something came to her and she tapped Luna on the shoulder.

“I’ll come back later. Have to do something, okay?” She whispered in the blonde’s ear, smiling when Luna nodded and walked ahead, leaving Valerie to take the path to the left. She looked around once she was in a secluded spot and quickly transformed into a midnight-black cat before turning around and running downstairs.

This was a long time coming. Lucius’ spawn had been a pain ever since their confrontation during the train ride, and the nasty looks he kept giving them didn’t help matters. Harry had been one step away from blowing his head off when she had managed to calm him down. She had told him that she would make sure Draco learnt his lesson, however, after the humiliation during the champion selections, those plans had been put on hold.

For a few weeks, the blonde ponce had kept himself in line. The entire school had been a witness to his humiliation, and he had kept his head down. However, it seemed he had once again begun to show his true colours. Valerie had heard how he had behaved ever since Harry had been chosen as the champion, and she believed he needed a serious check.

If it required a personal visit from his lovely aunt who was presumed dead, then she was happy to oblige.

It didn’t take long for the animagus to reach the door to the Slytherin Common Room, and she saw students still filing in. Quickly, she dashed along the steps and stood in a shadowy corner, looking interestedly at the setting.

Her eyes quickly fell on Draco who was standing in the middle with a few senior students sitting on the couches or the chairs while most of the members of the house stood to the side along the walls. It seemed every student, at least above the second year was in attendance.

“Alright Malfoy, you summoned this. What is it?” An older wizard with the emerald ‘P’ badge asked with a frown, and Valerie looked at Draco who smirked and looked around.

“You’re right that I summoned this, and I’m shocked that none of you did it before me. Well, no need to think about it now, is there?”

“Get to the point already, Malfoy,” a witch sitting by the same wizard sighed. Draco sneered.

“This summons is to decide where we stand with regard to Potter being the Hogwarts Champion.”

“I see. You have your input, I assume?” Another wizard prompted as he leaned forward.

Draco nodded emphatically.

“I wonder how anyone in their right mind can back Potter in this tournament. Him being a filthy half-blood aside, he is a fourth year! How can we trust someone like that to represent Hogwarts? It’s not too late. You saw how the other houses reacted to him. None were too happy that a fourth-year was chosen instead of someone older and more capable. I can bet they are having the same discussion we are having right now. Why throw your support behind someone you know will humiliate Hogwarts? I say we let him be humiliated instead. Durmstrang accepted our hospitality. They are more deserving of our support than someone like Potter would ever be!”

Critical faces stared back at the wizard who stood looking around with a smirk as the common room remained silent. Valerie was seething inside as she glared at Draco from the shadowy corner she was standing in.

A cold voice cut through the silence of the Slytherin Common Room.

“What a pathetic waste of seed you are Malfoy,” the voice mocked, and heads turned to look at a blonde witch with creamy skin and sapphire-blue eyes as she got up from the couch and stared at the wizard with disdain apparent in her gaze.

“Mind your words, Greengrass,” Draco snarled.

“Take your instruction and shove it up yours, Malfoy. Nobody likes your braying,” she mocked instead, never losing her cool. A few sniggers rang out, which died as soon as Malfoy brandished his wand and pointed it at the woman.

“Malfoy,” the first wizard warned, “you know the rules. No wands during the gathering. If you want to settle it, use the duelling arena afterwards. Go on Greengrass.”

An almost unnoticeable smirk appeared on the blonde woman’s face, and Valerie looked at the beauty in interest.

“Malfoy here is asking us to do what? Support someone who has come into our school to compete against us? Why? Because the Hogwarts Champion is a fourth year? Correct me if I’m wrong, but there was no age limit. How many of you submitted your name? None of you would’ve complained if you had managed to be selected, so complaining now is nothing but proving that you are sore losers.”

A few gathered people bristled at the perceived slight, but Daphne continued, “Potter proved himself during those duels. He defeated wizards older than him fair and square. What gives anyone the right to question his place? Just because he refused your offer to become an ally time and time again doesn’t mean he’s not worth it, Malfoy. Instead, it says a lot about you and your character. Trying to get us to betray Hogwarts like that,” Daphne spat, “you’re pathetic and a shame on the name of Salazar!”

Daphne glared around the common room and continued, “I don’t care about you lot, but I am not going to betray Hogwarts and give Slytherin more notoriety than it already has. Feuding with the Gryffindors is one thing. Betraying Hogwarts like that is crossing the line. I hope you all decide to see this for what it is – a loser’s pathetic attempt to discredit a worthy individual. Potter has proven himself, and he will have my support. That’s all from my side.”

Malfoy looked around the common room and saw everyone looking contemplative as Greengrass finished her drivel. He looked at her and snarled, “Just because you managed to swindle this lot out of one seat at this couch doesn’t mean your word is law, Greengrass. The way you’re supporting Potter makes me wonder. What did he bribe you with? I bet it was his cock. Merlin knows that mudblood won’t last long. Must be looking forward to sampling that perfect pureblood cunt.”

In an instant, Daphne’s wand was pointed right under the blonde’s chin, a dangerous look in her blue eyes as she glared at him. No one had seen her move, and everyone stared with wide eyes. Malfoy recoiled slightly.

“I’ll enjoy this, Malfoy. I’ll enjoy this very much,” Daphne whispered dangerously as the Slytherin prefect quickly instructed everyone to make their way to the duelling arena.

Staying hidden in the shadows, Valerie couldn’t help but admire this witch, awfully reminded of a certain someone from years ago. At that moment, as Valerie stared unblinkingly at the blonde witch, she had only one feeling. It felt like she was looking in the mirror.

Her confrontation with her worthless nephew could wait. His humiliation at the hands of this interesting woman came first.

XXXXX

To be continued…