Written in the Stars - Half-bloods and Half-breeds

Half-bloods and Half-breeds

August 1991

It was difficult to believe that a year had passed since Harry had made his decision to attend Durmstrang, and from that moment, it seemed that a fire had been ignited within the boy.

He had always been a little too courageous for Cassiopeia’s liking, attempting ridiculous stunts on his broom, and unafraid at attempting whatever trials and tribulations were placed in front of him.

It was an admirable quality to possess, but the woman wished he would allow himself to simply be a child.

It wasn’t to be, however.

Only the day after they had returned from meeting with Madame Maxime and Igor Karkaroff, Harry had requested that he be taken to Godric’s Hollow, his reasoning being so that he could confront what had happened and ready himself for the path that lay in front of him.

Reluctantly, Cassiopeia had done so, and though she knew that he hadn’t gotten the closure he was hoping for, he had at least begun to grieve properly for the parents that had been taken from him.

It was the first time she had seen him truly cry over their loss, but his tears had dried quickly, replaced with the fire of determination she saw whenever she now looked upon him.

Harry had come away from the house a changed boy, and nothing other than a torn photo of himself and his parents within a broken frame.

He had not even allowed Cassie to repair it, choosing to leave it in its state as a reminder of what had happened.

Ever since, Harry had spent his time reading, flying, and preparing himself for when he would be able to leave for school to begin what he had aptly named ‘his pursuit of justice’.

He had not disclosed what he meant by the term, but Harry was making plans, and Cassiopeia could only wonder just what they would entail.

“Did you receive a reply from Pansy yet?” she asked.

The girl had been a frequent visitor with her father over the years, and she and Harry had struck up quite the close friendship in the process.

They wrote to each other often, and Pansy sometimes came to stay with them for a few days.

It was a reprieve for Harry, who seemed to relax from his workload when she was here, and Cassie didn’t mind.

She was pleased that Harry simply had a friend that helped him escape his often-maudlin thoughts.

“I did,” Harry sighed. “She’s disappointed that I chose to go to Durmstrang, but she understands.”

Cassiopeia nodded.

“And has Julius forgiven you for what you did to him last time he was here?”

Harry shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips.

“I didn’t ask, but I expect they only lasted a few days.”

Cassiopeia pursed her lips.

Much to the Harry and Pansy’s amusement, Harry had managed to slip the Lord Parkinson a rather odd tonic in his body that had caused him to grow quite the impressive pair of breasts.

Unfortunately, Harry had not thought to either purchase or brew the antidote, and Julius had left in quite the huff.

Still, there was no harm truly done, and it was quite the amusing sight.

Not that she hadn’t punished Harry for the transgression.

The boy had spent a week with his library privileges revoked but had merely spent the time on his broom and completing Quidditch exercises he had read in a magazine.

If anything, the punishment had only given him something else to focus on, and he had maintained his new routine and incorporated into his schedule.

‘A healthy mind and body make for strong and healthy magic.’

Cassiopeia couldn’t be certain of the veracity of that statement, but it seemed that Harry had indeed taken on board everything Igor Karkaroff had said he would need to endure at Durmstrang.

Still, a part of her wished he would reconsider his decision.

The school would indeed prepare him for what he would face when he chose to return to Britain but having him so close to a former Death Eater was not something Cassie would ever be comfortable with.

“Have you packed your trunk?”

Harry nodded.

“I have everything in there I will need,” he assured her. “You’re more worried about this than me. Will you miss me that much?” he asked cheekily.

“I’ll miss cuffing the back of your head for your cheek,” Cassie huffed.

The boy grinned at her impetuously and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ll be glad for the peace.”

“No, you won’t,” Harry returned evenly. “You’ll be writing to me all the time.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” Harry sighed as he drew his wand and muttered an incantation.

From the tip, he produced a single, black rose and handed it to her before kissing her on the cheek.

“Thank you for everything, Aunt Cass,” he murmured. “For taking me in when you didn’t have to.”

Cassiopeia smiled.

Despite his rather serious attitude towards his studies, and the bouts of mischief, there were moments like this when she was reminded that Harry was, deep down, a very sweet and caring boy, and it gave her hope that he would maintain some of that.

In many ways, he reminded the woman of her younger sister.

Dorea was the quietest of the siblings but had the most beautiful of souls to match her appearance.

No wonder Charlus Potter had fallen in love with her so easily.

“You do realise you shouldn’t be attempting magic,” Cassie pointed out.

“Not even to do something nice for you?”

Cassiopeia shook her head amusedly as she eyed the wand the boy had acquired.

‘Petrified elm with the fang of a horned serpent, the key to the underworld, and the bringer of the rain and storms.’

That was the description that Gregorovitch had given as he looked upon Harry with the most curious of expressions.

‘I believe we can expect quite extraordinary things from you, Mr Potter.’

Those had been his parting words, and he had not even accepted payment for crafting the wand for Harry.

It had been a rather odd experience, and though Ollivander himself was an eccentric character, he never forgot to collect his fee.

What Gregorovitch had meant by his statement, Cassiopeia knew not, but once more, she found herself equally anticipating and fearing what the future would hold for her great-nephew.

(Break)

Although he had been expecting it, Albus could not prevent the pang of disappointment he felt as he looked upon the missive he had received from Harry Potter stating that he would not be accepting his offered place at Hogwarts.

A part of the headmaster knew that Gellert was right, that if Harry was to survive his impending collision with Voldemort, the boy would need to be ready.

‘The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...’

The words spoken to him so long ago now had sealed the fate of James and Lily Potter, and Harry even more so.

Now, the shaping of the boy was out of Albus’s hands, and though Gellert was right that Harry needed to be suitably prepared, it did not sit well with the headmaster that he would have no part in that.

“What is it, Albus?” Minerva asked, noticing his rather downtrodden demeanour.

Albus said nothing as he slid the letter to the woman.

“Harry Potter will not be attending Hogwarts?” she gasped. “This is the work of the muggles. I told you the boy should not have been left with them!”

Albus held up a hand to placate the woman whilst the other members of staff looked on concernedly.

“It has nothing to do with Vernon and Petunia Dursley,” he sighed. “Harry was not left in their care for more than a few weeks.”

“Then who has the boy?” Severus asked, a displeased frown marring his features.

Albus offered the man an apologetic smile.

He had done all he could to keep Lily Potter safe, but he had failed.

“Harry was taken into the care of his legal guardian not long after he was placed with the Dursleys and done so with reluctance on mine and Millicent’s part,” he explained. “Her reasons were ironclad, and had we not surrendered Harry to her willingly, it would have created quite the public debacle that would have seen him in even more danger.”

“Who?” Severus asked confusedly. “The boy had no living relatives other than Petunia.”

Albus released a deep sigh as he met the curious gazes of the professors.

“Cassiopeia Black.”

Severus’s eyes widened comically, and Minerva was simply aghast at the very thought.

“Cassiopeia Black?” she whispered furiously. “You allowed him to be raised by that woman?”

“Reluctantly,” Albus reiterated. “Legally speaking, after Sirius was imprisoned, she is his recognised guardian.”

“Good grief, what an upbringing he must have had,” Filius squeaked worriedly. “We have all heard of her, know what she did during Grindelwald’s uprising.”

The other members of staff nodded their agreement, but none commented.

“Then why has he declined his place here?” Severus asked.

It was almost as though the man was disappointed Harry would not be coming, though Albus suspected he would not be pleased if he had.

Where Severus concerned, there was no scenario here that he would have been truly happy with.

“Harry has opted to attend Durmstrang,” Minerva announced, reading that art of the letter aloud. “He thanks Professor Dumbledore for honouring the wish of his parents for him to have a place here, but he will not be accepting it.”

“Durmstrang?” Severus scoffed. “Isn’t Karkaroff the headmaster there?”

Albus nodded.

“He is,” he confirmed.

“The man was a Death Eater!” Severus snapped angrily. “The boy will be murdered within a year!”

Albus shook his head.

“No, Igor is not so foolish to do something like that, not when his safety is all but assured whilst he remains within the school,” he said thoughtfully. “He may not take kindly to Harry’s presence, but if there was ever a resurgence of the Dark Lord’s followers, he, like most others, will look to the boy who brought about his downfall.”

Severus’s nostrils flared in disbelief.

“Are we to just simply allow this?” Minerva asked quietly.

“We have no say on the matter,” Albus pointed out. “Harry has chosen to seek his education elsewhere and has seemingly done so willingly. I respect his decision, even if it brings me no pleasure.”

Severus and Minerva seemed to be the most displeased by the news, and Filius even a little upset.

He had been very close to Lily during her years here and Albus suspected he had been looking forward to teaching Harry.

It was only mere moments later that Albus dismissed his staff before taking a seat behind his desk, stroking Fawkes’ plumage as he pondered the situation.

‘Are you willing to give him the tools he will need?...He is a Peverell, after all. Their blood flows through his veins. The wand should be his. Even with my help, the odds are not in his favour.’

Albus removed the elder wand from his sleeve and looked upon it.

He had been carrying it since he had defeated Gellert so many decades prior and had held onto it for reasons he himself could not be certain of.

He no longer craved the power of the Hallows, not the tow he currently had in his possession at least.

He sighed as he removed the cloak he had borrowed from James Potter from one of the drawers in his desk.

Albus had suspected the Potters were the keepers of the cloak, but it seemed that Charlus had not explained to James just how spectacular or unique the one he’d inherited was.

James had been only to pleased to hand it to Albus when asked, and any man who knew what it was he possessed would have guarded it with his life.

Still, this wasn’t Albus’s to keep, and with a wave of the wand, the cloak was wrapped neatly before the headmaster penned a missive.

“Would you take this to Harry when you can, Fawkes?” he requested.

With a trill, the phoenix took the package in his beak and vanished in a column of fire.

When he was alone, Albus turned his attention back to the wand.

If Gellert had his way, the wand would have been sent also, but Albus was not ready to part with it yet, not until he knew the kind of man Harry was growing into.

Hi former friend may have convinced himself that the soul fragment within the boy would not have a detrimental effect on Harry, but Albus was taking no chances.

The last thing he needed in his advanced years was another Tom Riddle at large and armed with such a powerful artefact.

No, he would hold onto it for now, and reserve his judgement of Harry’s character when he met him himself. Something he hoped would be sooner rather than later.

(Break)

Students are to arrive on the north-eastern coast of Teriberka by 8am on September 1st, in full formal attire where you will be transported to the institute...

The welcoming letter had been rather vague in nature, and Harry deduced that it had to do with how secretive Durmstrang as a school was in general. He’d received only a list of books and equipment he would need for his first year of education, along with another explaining what animal companions were and were not acceptable.

Harry had opted to not bring one. He simply didn’t want the responsibility of a pet.

For the time being, Cassiopeia had urged him to keep his parseltongue ability to himself, unless absolutely necessary.

It wasn’t that he would be scorned for it in this part of the world, but it could prove to be a useful skill for him to implement that others would not be aware of.

“Do I really have to wear this?” Harry groaned as he took in his appearance in the mirror.

“Yes,” Cassie answered simply.

The woman was too amused for Harry’s liking.

It wasn’t that the formal attire was awful in any way, but the stark redness of the military-style jacket clashed horribly with his bright green eyes.

“Is it time to leave?”

Cassiopeia checked the clock on the wall of Harry’s bedroom and nodded.

“I do wish you would have gotten an owl,” she sighed. “I would like you to write to me.”

“The school will have owls that I can use,” Harry pointed out. “I will write to you, every day if it makes you feel better.”

“Not every day,” Cassiopeia snorted. “I’m only just getting rid of you.”

“Have I been so bad?” Harry asked, clutching his chest dramatically.

“You’ve made my life interesting, to say the least.”

“I love you too, Cassie,” Harry replied.

Despite her best effort not to, the woman smiled warmly before pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Remember who you are, Harry,” she whispered, “and remember what you will one day be. In the coming years, you will be the head of two of the most prominent families in Britain, and that means something, even in the cold wastelands of where you’re going.”

“I know,” Harry murmured. “I won’t let you down, Aunt Cassie.”

“I know you won’t,” the woman sighed. “Come on, we’d best leave. I don’t think it would do you any good to be late.”

Harry nodded as he fetched his trunk and looked around the room he’d spent the best part of almost ten years in.

He would miss home, and the woman that had taken him in, but he needed to do this; needed to be somewhere that would challenge him every day he was there.

“Let’s go then.”

Without another word, Cassiopeia offered the other end of the letter she held, and when Harry took it in his grasp, she activated the portkey.

The first thing that Harry noticed when he arrived was the sudden drop in temperature.

It was freezing here, unbearably so. And were it not for the thick uniform he had been instructed to wear imbued with warming charms, he was certain he would have turned to ice the second he appeared.

Cassie immediately drew her wand and cast several charms on herself, her teeth still chattering, nonetheless.

“You must be insane for wanting to go to Durmstrang,” she commented as she shivered. “France was so nice.”

“It was too nice,” Harry commented, looking around at the other gathered students that had arrived.

All were around his age, the boys dressed identically to himself, and the girls sporting thick, woollen dresses in the same colour, with many adding their own layers to stave off the chill.

Already, some seemed to be familiar with each other, and had gathered in groups where they chatted away, whereas others were keeping their distance, their expressions guarded.

Harry was among the latter.

The only friend he’d ever had was Pansy, and if truth be told, he never felt that he’d missed out on companionship, but as he looked upon those smiling and mixing with others, he thought that perhaps he might like a friend or two whilst he was at school.

However, he then saw how some of the groups were undeniably talking about those that were standing alone, some without their parents with them.

It angered him to see the others being mocked so openly, and he decided he didn’t want to be a part of that.

No, perhaps he would be better served avoiding those peers.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sudden sound of splashing water and turned to see a ship breaking the surface of the sea only a short distance away.

The ship was emerging from the water, and he could only stare at the feat in awe.

When it was fully in the open, Harry was very much reminded of a pirate ship he had seen in a book, and he turned to Cassiopeia who was smirking at him.

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” she asked.

Harry could only nod in response.

He had expected that they would be met by one of the professors with a portkey but had not even considered something like this.

“You’d best get on,” Cassie said sadly, “or it will leave without you.”

Harry pulled the woman into a final hug before kissing her on the cheek and taking hold of his trunk.

“I will wite as soon as I can,” he promised.

Cassie nodded and shooed him away, and Harry was unsure if the tears that stained her cheeks was from the icy chill of the wind, or she was genuinely upset to see him leaving.

He liked to think it was the latter, and as he boarded the ship, he gave the woman a final wave, doing his best to ignore the overwhelming sadness that washed over him.

He knew he would miss the woman dearly, but it wasn’t until he was leaving her that he truly realised how much.

“I will take your trunk,” a gruff voice broke into his thoughts.

“Thank you,” Harry replied to the burly, older teen.

The boy nodded stiffly.

“Make your way into the hold, there are compartments down there. It will take around eight hours to reach Durmstrang.”

Harry did as he was bid, and as one of the first people to descend into the depths of the ship, he quickly found an empty compartment, and settled in for the journey, enjoying the gentle swaying of the waves on the outside.

“Sorry, would you mind if I joined you?” a voice sounded from the door around fifteen minutes after he had arrived. “The others have more people in, and some of them won’t welcome me.”

Harry frowned as he took in the girl’s appearance.

She seemed to be normal enough at first glance, but there was undoubtedly something different about her. He couldn’t quite work out what it was, and before he could ponder it further, the girl began to retreat from the room with an irritable huff.

“You don’t have to leave,” Harry called. “Please, take a seat.”

The girl remained cautious as she did so, her posture stiff, and she didn’t meet his gaze.

It was then that he realised just how different she was seeing her up close.

Her features were sharper than any other person he had met, and though that had been few, it was clear that this girl was not entirely human.

Her skin was pale, and her eyes a golden colour, wider and longer than what most would consider the norm, but proportionately so.

Her mahogany hair was well-kept, but it had a texture to it that suggested she spent much of her time outdoors, and by the sea.

“It’s not very polite to stare,” she muttered, her eyes still not meeting his own.

“Sorry,” Harry replied sheepishly. “Why wouldn’t some of the others welcome you?”

The girl looked at him in confusion, as though she was trying to ascertain if the question was genuine.

“You really don’t know, do you?”

Harry shook his head, and the girl rolled her eyes at him in a mixture of frustration and amusement.

“I’m what some of them would call a half-breed,” she revealed. “My father is a wizard, and my mother is a forest elf. It turns out that I can use both types of magic,” she finished with a shrug.

She briefly moved her hair to show her prominently pointed ears before covering it once more.

“Why are you sitting alone?” she asked curiously. “Are you a half-breed?”

“I’m a half-blood,” Harry replied.

“So, a wizard then,” the girl snorted.

Harry nodded.

“It matters where I’m from,” he explained. “There are some purebloods that will hate me because my mother came from a muggle family, even if she was a witch.”

“It’s like that everywhere,” the girl sighed. “That’s why we have the black band on our left arm instead of our right. It’s so the purebloods can identify us as different to them.”

Harry frowned as he looked at the black strip of fabric around his arms.

“So, they can discriminate against us?”

The girl nodded.

“My father told me that we will be separated when we eat, in the dorm rooms, and even in the classroom,” she explained. “He said it is best to avoid the purebloods and not to speak to them unless they speak to us first.”

“That’s stupid,” Harry muttered.

“It is, but they won’t take kindly if you approach them,” the girl pointed out. “They see themselves as above the rest because they have a pure, human, magical lineage dating back for hundreds of years.”

Harry snorted at the thought.

The purebloods here sounded like those Cassie had described to him.

It mattered not to Harry.

He already knew he would have to prove himself when he returned home, so doing so here was nothing he hadn’t expected to deal within the future.

“You said your mother was a muggleborn. Does that mean your father is a pureblood?”

“He was, but I don’t know him, or my mother.”

“Why not?”

“She’s dead. Both of my parents are.”

The girl balked and began stuttering a hurried apology that Harry waved off.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I was just a baby.”

The girl offered him a sympathetic smile.

“My name is Ana by the way, short for Inanna, but only my father calls me that.”

“I’m Harry, just Harry as far as I know.”

“Well, just Harry, thank you for not being like the others,” Ana said gratefully.

“Are most of them like that?”

The girl shrugged.

“You get used to it,” she sighed. “Humans fear what they don’t understand, even magical ones.”

Harry nodded his agreement.

“Why do they fear you?”

Ana raised an eyebrow at him.

“They don’t, not really,” she replied thoughtfully. “Elves stay away from others and can be fiercely protective of their lands. I think our reputation comes from the old tales of the elf/wizarding wars, and that my ancestors killed a lot of goblin tribes. I suppose we’re not very welcoming, but with good reason. Wizards have tried to take our lands for thousands of years.”

“So, you consider yourself an elf?”

Ana nodded.

“I was raised with them, and they accept me for what I am. The same can’t be said for any witch or wizard I have ever met. My father’s family disowned him when they found out about me.”

“That’s just stupid,” Harry muttered. “They’re your family.”

Ana shrugged.

“They don’t see me that way, so the other elves are my family and my people.”

“But they can’t teach you human magic?”

“My father could, but he thinks going to school will be good for me, and believe it or not, Durmstrang is the most tolerant of them. I didn’t want to come, but my father thinks I will thank him for it.”

“Maybe you will,” Harry pointed out. “You wouldn’t have met me if you hadn’t come.”

The girl giggled as she shook her head.

“That is true,” she conceded. “Is there anything else interesting about you other than being a half-blood?” Ana questioned as she leaned back in her chair, her posture much more relaxed than it had been when she entered the compartment.

‘If only you knew,’ Harry thought to himself.

Before he could answer, however, the two were intruded upon by a sudden burst of flames.

Instinctively, Harry drew his wand and pointed it towards the magnificent bird that had appeared, and Ana simply stared at the creature in awe.

“You have a phoenix?” she whispered.

Harry shook his head.

“It’s not mine,” he replied, neither his eyes nor his wand leaving the bird.

It trilled, and Harry felt a sense of calmness wash over him.

“He doesn’t mean us harm,” he assured the girl as he lowered his wand and allowed the phoenix to deposit the package it carried on the floor in front of him.

It then turned its attention to the wand he carried and nudged it with its beak, trilling again, though this time, the tune was mournful.

After meeting Harry’s gaze with its own, it took to the air and disappeared in another burst of flame.

It was Ana that pulled Harry from his thoughts a moment later.

“It’s addressed to you,” she explained, pointing to the parcel.

Retrieving it, Harry took his seat once more and removed the accompanying note.

Your father left this in my possession when he died. It is time that it was returned to you. Use it well.

With a frown, Harry unwrapped the paper, and caught the silvery cloak within before it spilled to the ground.

“What is it?” he asked.

“An invisibility cloak!” Ana gasped. “Who would send you that?”

Harry shrugged.

“I don’t know, but the note says it was my father’s.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ana mused aloud. “If your father died when you were a baby, the magic should have faded.”

“It might not work anymore then,” Harry sighed as he stood and wrapped the cloak around his shoulders.

“It works,” Ana declared. “That’s some cloak if it works after all this time.”

Harry nodded.

His body was tingling within the artefact, and though he couldn’t discern exactly what was causing it, he knew it was whatever magic had been used to create it.

It felt heavy, but not uncomfortably so, and almost as if the cloak itself was welcoming him.

“I’d keep that to yourself if I were you,” Ana advised. “Someone might try to take it.”

“You already know about it,” Harry pointed out.

“True, but friends keep each other’s secrets, don’t they?”

Her tone was almost hopeful, and though Harry had decided that he may be best suited to staying away from the others, he found that he was enjoying Ana’s company.

Besides, if the purebloods were going to potentially be a problem whilst he was at Durmstrang, it was best if those that wore the black band on their left arm stuck together.

They would undoubtedly be outnumbered, after all.

Cassie had explained that many of the students here would be purebloods, and it would be good practice for him to learn how to deal with them now rather than inexperiencedly in the future.

He offered Ana a smile and nodded, realising that he was yet to answer her.

“They do,” he agreed warmly, his thoughts drifting to what kind of mischief he could get up to with the unexpected gift he had received.

(Break)

She had watched until the ship had returned to the depths, and even remained for several minutes after until the cold chill of the wind bit into her cheeks. Already, she missed the boy, something she would not have thought possible a little less than a decade ago when she had first brought him home.

Cassie felt lost without Harry, and there was only one place she could even think of going.

Not that it would make her feel any better, but it would at least serve as a distraction.

With a sigh, she activated her portkey and arrived outside of the prison that Gellert had constructed himself, the very same place he now ironically found himself exiled to.

With her thoughts still on the departed Harry, she made her way inside, her feet carrying to Gellert’s cell where he eyed her curiously and waited for Cassie to speak.

“He’s gone,” she whispered, feeling much more emotional than she had let on.

“His journey has truly begun,” Gellert corrected. “You knew this day would come, and you know the man he must be. His enemies are plenty, and he will have to be able to destroy them.”

“But he’s just a boy, Gellert.”

“For now,” the man agreed, “but not for much longer. They will come for him, Cass, and he must be prepared for that.”

“Will they?”

Gellert nodded darkly.

“Harry represents the single blemish on Voldemort, and when he returns, Harry is the loose end he will wish to tie up first.”

“When he returns?”

“Neither Albus nor I believe he is truly dead,” Gellert sighed. “He is in no state to exact his revenge for the time being, but that will undoubtedly change one day. It may not be until long after Harry himself has died from old age, but we cannot place faith in wishful thinking. We must ensure Harry is ready for when that time comes.”

Cassie swallowed deeply as she nodded.

“Where shall we start?”

Gellert smiled as he handed her a roll of parchment.

“These are all the secrets of Durmstrang that I discovered whilst I was there, and they will be most useful for the boy. See that he gets them, and I believe with the character he has demonstrated, he will begin the necessary work himself.”

“Will this get him into trouble?”

Gellert chuckled as he shook his head.

“Not unless someone else discovers those secrets, something that is frankly unlikely. I believe I hid them well enough.”

Cassiopeia accepted the roll of parchment and eyed her former mentor questioningly.

No, Gellert would not wish for Harry to be expelled from Durmstrang. Not when he had been so pleased the boy had chosen to attend.

“I will send it tomorrow,” she assured him.

“Good,” Gellert declared happily. “Now, how are you really feeling, my dear? I know you too well for you to hide from me, Cassiopeia Black.”

Cassie offered the man a sad smile.

He did indeed know her too well, and she wouldn’t insult his intelligence by lying.

Right now, she felt terrible, and wanted nothing more than to drag Harry home and keep him there away from all the monsters he would have to confront.

(Break)

Ana had fallen asleep a few hours into the journey, and Harry had busied himself by practicing some of the magic Cassiopeia had been teaching him over the past year.

Although he had only gotten his wand recently, the woman had been drilling him on the basics of the Black family magic, and from what Ana had told him, some of the spells may come in handy sooner rather than later.

The curses seemed to be working well for him and coupled with the other things he had been teaching himself since he’d been able to read, he felt that he would be able to assert himself when it became necessary to do so.

Not that he was relishing the thought of doing so, but he had grown up expecting he would need to.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door, and the same older student who had greeted him on the gangway peered around the door.

“We will be arriving shortly,” he announced, disappearing before Harry could even respond.

With a sigh, he gently nudged the sleeping girl awake.

“We will be there soon,” he explained.

Ana yawned and nodded before straightening her dress.

“How long was I out?” she asked.

“About four hours.”

“I didn’t sleep much last night,” she defended, narrowing her eyes at Harry’s amused expression.

“You were nervous?”

“I still am,” Ana admitted.

Harry offered her a comforting smile.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The girl raised an eyebrow at him.

“And what makes you think that I can’t defend myself?”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Harry pointed out, “but I’ve got your back, if you need me.”

Ana looked at him oddly for a moment before nodding.

“You know, if you don’t associate with me and the others, you’d probably be left alone. You’re human at least.”

Harry shook his head.

“What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” he returned. “Besides, if they want to separate us, why would I try to be around people that wouldn’t accept me?”

Ana smiled at him.

“Then that already makes you a better person than them.”

Harry said nothing.

On the surface, he may appear to be the better person to Ana, but she didn’t know him.

More often than not, he found himself lost in thoughts of vengeance, of what he would do to those that were responsible for the death of his parents.

That was what motivated him to work as hard as he did, to persevere when things became difficult.

Of course, he wanted to make his parents proud, so he would always give everything he did his all, but it was his need to avenge them that made Harry push his limits.

There was a darkness within him that he kept at bay, like an itch that would eventually need to be scratched before it consumed him fully.

They spoke only a little more before they were called to disembark the ship, and when they did so, Harry was greeted once more to the sight of the stone fortress that was Durmstrang, though this time, it was in the dark.

It was indeed a foreboding structure; cold, and seemingly unwelcoming.

However, when he crossed the threshold, it was to find that the fires had been lit, and the school itself was not as cold as it had been during his previous visit.

Now, it was almost as though the school was alive, the flurry of activity of the students returning having breathed it into consciousness.

“This way, this way!” a gruff voice commanded.

The main hall where they would seemingly be having meals was filling up when they were ushered inside.

“Your seat will be marked with your name,” the same man explained. “If your band is on your left, you’ll be on the left side of the hall. Find your seat and take it. Headmaster Karkaroff will wish to speak before we eat.”

Harry nodded and followed the rest of those with the band attached to the left arm of the uniform, and he managed to find his seat around halfway down the one table that was reserved for them.

There were five others, all occupied or being filled by those wearing the band on their right arms.

Harry found himself seated between a boy and a girl, the former unable to hide the nervousness that was overwhelming him.

The girl was almost stoic, her eerily pale skin and contrasting black hair the least curious thing about her.

No, it was her eyes that Harry was drawn to.

They were red, and when she noticed him staring, she smirked, and he got a glimpse of two elongated teeth protruding from her lower lip.

The girl was a vampire of sorts.

Ana had been seated further up the table and she shot Harry a knowing look.

Harry did not have time to ponder it for long, however as Igor Karkaroff stood and held his arms wide to call for silence.

The students complied immediately, and his gaze swept across the breadth of the room.

“Welcome,” he loudly enough for his voice to carry to all. “Tonight, we will feast to celebrate a new year here at Durmstrang, and tomorrow, our work begins. For our first years, you will have a day of orientation, so I urge you to eat and drink your fill, and to get as much sleep as you can.”

The man clapped his hands together, and the empty plates and goblets on the tables filled with an array of food and drink.

There were many dishes that Harry didn’t recognise, and he sampled several, enjoying the experience of the various cuisines on offer.

“I don’t think you should eat that,” the nervous boy next to him spoke as Harry helped himself to a red soup he didn’t recognise.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because that is for me,” the vampire broke in, grinning as she nodded towards the bowl of red substance Harry held. “It is blood. Not very fresh, but still blood.”

She proceeded to take the bowl from him and slurp from it loudly, baring her stained teeth in a satisfied manner.

“It’s all yours,” Harry replied, vowing to choose his next dish more carefully. “Are any of these yours?” he asked the boy who shook his head.

“I eat normal food,” he answered.

“Until you get the hunger for flesh when you change,” the vampire interrupted once more. “You’re a werewolf. I can smell it on you.”

“What if I am?” the boy retorted hotly.

“Bloody hell, you’re sitting at the same table, that should be enough reason for you to not fall out,” Harry huffed.

The werewolf boy deflated, nodding his agreement.

The girl merely licked the blood from her teeth before dipping her finger in the bowl and helping herself to more.

Looking up and down the length of the table, Harry estimated there was around four hundred students that had been placed here, most likely only half-bloods like himself, but there were certainly some interesting-looking others on display.

He would get to know them throughout his time here, but if the glares being sent their way by the other occupied tables was anything to go by, his schooling would not go as smoothly as he liked it.

Still, Harry was here to learn what he would need, and he would not allow any to stand in his way, regardless of what blood flowed through their veins.