"Come on, laddie," barked Moody. "We have them surrounded."
Sirius watched from his position, biting his lower lip in anticipation.
His idea of using the Muggle military really worked wonders. The
Muggles had sighted a couple of the Death Eaters near Dover. Using
utmost secrecy, they had selected the best Aurors they had under
their command for this operation.
"Listen here everyone," said Sirius. "We have gone through the plan.
We're going to split up. We have received intelligence that the Death
Eaters are spread in two groups, so we're going to split up as well.
Team Alpha, you'll be coming with me and Auror Moody. Team Beta,
you'll be going with Director Black and Head Auror Scrimgeour. You
know how dangerous they are. Coordinate with each other and take
them out as quickly and efficiently as possible. We can't risk them
trying to escape. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Minister," said Kingsley, speaking for them all.
"Good," said Sirius, nodding at them. "Split up; let's get started."
Peter Pettigrew panicked as he heard screams and saw flashes of
spellfire. No, they couldn't have found them! They had been so
cautious, so how had the Ministry managed to track them down so
quickly? He saw Mulciber get killed by a severing curse. An Auror
was also killed, but Moody managed to take out Jugson. Peter's
eyes widened in shock as he saw his former best friend Sirius Black
duel Rowle, who was one of the best duellists in the inner circle.
Sirius was bleeding badly with several cuts all over his body, but he
was able to hold his ground. Behind him, his wife Amelia was fighting
like her husband, dodging everything Dolohov was throwing at her.
Travers screamed in pain as three Aurors surrounded him and fired
Reductor curses. He died of a massive hole in his chest but
managed to wound an Auror in the process as well.
Peter's insane eyes glinted with worry. He had gained very useful
information over the past few months. He could see that the Dark
Mark was growing stronger, which meant that the Lestranges and
Rookwood had found their master. It was only a matter of time
before the Dark Lord returned to Britain. He couldn't fail their master!
He needed to survive to give the Dark Lord all the information he had
found out! Transforming into a rat, he scurried away. Ten minutes
later, Rowle and Dolohov were killed by Minister of Magic Sirius
Black and Head of the D.M.L.E. Amelia Black.
"Take the Minister and the injured Aurors to St Mungo's," said
Amelia. "Quickly!"
Amelia looked at the pale form of her husband. He had managed to
kill Rowle but he had lost a lot of blood in the process. She watched
as four Aurors and Sirius disappeared using a Portkey.
"Damage report," said Amelia.
"Dawlish was killed in the skirmish with Mulciber," said Kingsley,
looking worn and tired. "There are no more casualties as of this
moment. Auror Roberts was injured by Travers, but he'll recover. The
Death Eaters are dead."
"Good," breathed out Amelia. "Pack them up and send them back to
the morgue at the Ministry. Search the area for the others. We still
have Pettigrew, Rookwood and the Lestranges to catch."
"Yes ma'am."
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
The news of the deaths of the four Death Eaters was met with huge
cheers by the people of Magical Britain. The common folk were
singing Sirius' praises. The fact that the Minister of Magic himself
had been involved in the fight and had killed Rowle personally
induced a reaction of awe in everybody. Amelia was also highly
praised. The Head of the D.M.L.E. had been the one to hold the
press conference after the attack. Fresh from the battle, still
displaying the scars on her body like a proud warrior, she had
explained what had happened. The common witch and wizard were
overjoyed, but they were warned that the Lestranges were still out
there. Those three were nearly as dangerous as Voldemort himself.
The Quidditch World Cup was being held in Britain this year and
massive preparation was needed to ensure that there were no
problems. Muggle-repelling charms were placed over the entire area
and any Muggles living near the site were Confunded and sent away
for the duration so that the International Statute of Secrecy could not
be breached. Hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards from all
over the world were coming to watch the matches, especially the
finals. International Floo and Portkey travel would become very busy,
so more people were diverted to that. The Aurors were ordered to
secure the area of the stadium so that security was not
compromised.
Once he became Minister, Sirius had not wasted any time in
allocating more funds for the D.M.L.E. In fact, he had personally
donated a hundred thousand Galleons to the department himself, so
they were quite well staffed. Not wanting to be outdone, several
other families had donated as well after the Department of Magical
Revenue introduced a tax deduction on donations to the D.M.L.E.,
but a certain shady kind with questionable connections stayed away.
Sirius had also met with the Triwizard Committee to discuss the
tournament that was to be held at Hogwarts. The negotiations had
been going on for three years and it was finally coming to fruition.
The only black mark over the whole issue was that Barty Crouch was
still the Head of the Department of International Magical
Cooperation. Sirius had been very ticked off about that fact. Even
though he was Minister, Heads of departments were recommended
by him but appointed by the Wizengamot. That's why even though
Fudge left office, the rest were doing their jobs. Crouch may have
made a blunder with Sirius, but the man was still respected by many
from when he was the Head of the D.M.L.E. during the last war. So
he was here to stay ... for now.
Being so busy with the Ministry and international relations, Sirius and
Amelia didn't have time to take care of the politics of the
Wizengamot. Rigel was also growing up and the summer demanded
that he was irritable. Of course, that's when Harry decided to step up
and take charge. Once the second term at Hogwarts was over, he
had enlisted the help of the Greengrasses and began planning a ball
at Potter Castle, which left Sirius free to work on other matters.
Harry smiled and chatted with Lord and Lady Acton as they gathered
in the Grand Ballroom at Potter Castle. The Potters had not thrown a
ball at the castle for a couple of hundred years now and so no one
here had seen the place. They were in awe of the wealth and
splendour it had to offer and Harry had gone all out to impress the
influential witches and wizards with it.
The Grand Ballroom was really well decorated. The house-elves had
done a marvellous job. The marble floor had been charmed to make
it sparkle, as if the floor was actually carved out of diamond. Multicoloured
flowers were placed in different areas of the ballroom and
the decorations were exquisite. Large chandeliers emitting a golden
light gave off an amazing display. All in all, it now looked fit for a king,
a fact which wasn't far from the truth as the Potter family had stolen
from Muggle royalty in the past.
"He's so adorable!" gushed Samantha Hudson, one of the elected
representatives on the Wizengamot, as she joined Lady Acton and
Madam Marchbanks. Little Rigel Black was nested in his godfather's
arms, looking at everyone curiously. His hair was bright blue and
eyes a stunning green, looking identical to Harry's.
"Oh, don't be fooled by his display," said Harry wryly. "He really
knows how to get away from those taking care of him. I haven't had
a good night's sleep in a week."
Rigel giggled and tapped Harry's face with his little hand. Harry
smiled fondly as he kissed the boy's temple. "Please enjoy
yourselves. I'm very happy that you could grace us with your
presence here this evening."
Many others wanted to meet the little Heir Black so Harry was
constantly surrounded by a group of girls. Of course, unknown to
Harry, those girls not only wanted to meet the cute ten months old
Metamorphmagus but also wanted to flirt with Harry. He was dressed
today in navy blue Acromantula robes, his shirt buttons made of
platinum and embedded with diamonds, handpicked by Lady
Greengrass. His raven black hair was let loose this time, framing his
face delicately so that Rigel could grab his locks whenever he
wanted, making the girls coo over the baby's display in the process.
Harry was now standing more than six feet in height. His powerful
inherent magic had made him reach puberty earlier than usual – and
that was by magical standards and magical children reached puberty
faster than Muggles anyway – and his body reflected that. He was
hardly the only one, as this phenomenon was common among
witches and wizards who were above average in terms of magical
power. The daily exercises he did really helped him look positively
scrumptious, giving him a strong, athletic and perfectly cut body.
Right now, dressed in rich, tasteful-looking clothes that fit his
muscular frame perfectly, he looked very handsome indeed.
"Can he change his hair colour to anything?" asked Parvati Patil
excitedly.
"As long as he likes the colour, yes," said Harry, smiling at his
godson. "Rigel, look!"
Opening his palm, Harry released a puff of dark red coloured smoke.
Rigel giggled as he tried to catch it with his palms, his hair turning
from blue to a deep shade of red.
"Wow," said Hestia Carrow, dragging the word slowly in amazement.
Blinking her eyes flirtatiously, she said, "You're really good with kids,
Harry."
"Yes, you are," Flora Carrow, Hestia's twin sister, moving closer as
she smiled sweetly. "Not many boys your age like children, forget
taking care of them."
Daphne pursed her lips as she looked across the Grand Ballroom.
She was dressed in a beautiful flowing champagne coloured dress
with silver accents; long diamond earrings sparkled from her ears.
Her wavy dark blonde hair that reached the middle of her back was
expertly styled and a butterfly-shaped hairclip was holding her hair in
place. Daphne had developed quite nicely over the past year. Her
deep blue eyes and rosy pink lips were already attracting attention
from many a young man across the ballroom. Her lush breasts and
delicate curves, enhanced due to long hours of dance practices,
were eye candy to anyone who danced with her. She looked
breathtakingly beautiful, with her magical powers – like Harry and
most other witches and wizards her age – giving her the physical
maturity of an eighteen-year-old Muggle, and Lord Cyrus
Greengrass had been glaring at anyone who even looked at his two
daughters the wrong way, much to the amusement of his wife.
"Look at that!" hissed Daphne, glaring daggers at Harry from across
the ballroom. "Can they be any more obvious in their flirting with
him?"
Dylan Lestrange chuckled as he silently sipped his drink.
"You find this funny?"
"I don't know why you're worried, Daph," Dylan replied, looking
amused. "Harry loves you. He practically worships the ground you
walk on."
"I don't know about that," she huffed, looking cross. "If he did, he
wouldn't be flirting with a dozen girls over there!"
"If you don't like it, just go over there and put a stop to it," Dylan
shrugged.
"Yeah, and be known as the psycho fiancée of Harry Potter?"
snapped Daphne, looking at the group with narrowed eyes. "I can't
do that even if I wanted to. I'm the host here, remember? Besides,
my mother would kill me for not behaving in such a public place."
"You're jealous," Astoria stated triumphantly, coming to stand next to
her.
"Am not!" Daphne retorted indignantly, but the fire in her eyes said
something else. She spotted many of their schoolmates and heirs of
important families dancing around the ballroom. Neville was dancing
with Susan, looking quite shy in the process and doing his best not
to step on her toes. Theo Nott and Tracy Davis were laughing as
they tried to dance ridiculous moves, earning disapproving looks
from Lord Nott for not behaving. Daphne grimaced when she saw
Cormac McLaggen talking to a bunch of boys, bragging about
himself. She had been requested to dance by him and after one
song, wished she had never met him in the first place.
"Miss Greengrass, would you do me the honour of being my partner
for this dance?" asked Draco Malfoy formally, stepping up to them.
Astoria giggled as he brushed his lips against her knuckles. "Of
course, Draco," she said happily, allowing him to lead her forward.
The smile on Dylan's face faded slightly and he felt as though
someone had punched him in the gut as he watched Draco and
Astoria. Swallowing his discomfort and reinforcing his still developing
mental shields, he turned away. A few moments later, he felt
someone gently running their fingers through his hair.
"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Daphne, cupping his face and brushing
her thumb along his cheek in concern.
"Nothing," Dylan murmured.
"If you're sure ..." said Daphne, looking at him sceptically.
"Miss Greengrass, may I have this dance?" asked Cedric Diggory,
extending his hand to her.
"Of course," smiled Daphne as she let him lead her away, still
looking at Dylan suspiciously. She knew something was bothering
him, but couldn't put a finger on it.
Dylan was busy, trying to hold a conversation with the older
generation witches and wizards who wanted meeting him, but his
eyes kept wandering to where Draco and Astoria were dancing. His
stomach clenched but he didn't know why. He and Astoria were best
friends; that was it, right? Right? So why was he feeling like this?
Smiling stiffly at Lord and Lady Rosier who were speaking to him –
rather disdainfully, in his opinion – he tried not to think about it, but it
was proving to be difficult. There was only one person who could
help him but it would have to wait until the ball was over.
He needed to talk to Daphne about this. Harry wouldn't understand
anyway, so there was no point in even mentioning it to him. Dylan
and Daphne had grown closer over the past year too. She was quite
different from the emotionally detached Harry Potter, which was a
good thing. She would most definitely help him here.
But another question kept nagging in his mind as his eyes trailed
Draco and Astoria again. Did Astoria have a crush on Draco? That
thought alone was enough to put a knot in Dylan's stomach.
"Ah, Harry Potter," said Lucius Malfoy smoothly as he approached
the host. "This is a very impressive castle you have here."
"It is our pride and joy, Lord Malfoy," said Harry, subconsciously
tightening his hold on Rigel protectively. "It was constructed a few
years prior to Hogwarts, actually. Some of the wards installed by
Godric Gryffindor at Hogwarts were based on those installed here at
Potter Castle."
"Really?" asked Lucius, looking at Harry speculatively. "Yet some
would think your family is simply overly paranoid. A stone fortress
around the grounds, a magical moat around the castle and the wards
themselves; a bit of overkill, in my opinion …"
Harry simply smiled slightly. "This castle is the reason the Most
Ancient and Noble House of Potter is not extinct when there was an
attack on the family about two hundred years ago. When one has a
lot of enemies, you tend to protect yourself and unfortunately, I'm as
paranoid as my ancestors, having a lot of enemies myself. The
confines of this castle provide me with the best protection possible."
"Indeed," said Lucius, having to grudgingly admit that the defences
were very good. He still kept his eyes open for any vulnerability that
could be used to exploit if the situation ever arises. "The Potter
Massacre; such a horrifying and dark past which the Potters have to
remember forever, isn't it? The black mark can never be erased."
"Oh, we all have some shady characters in the family tree, Lord
Malfoy," said Harry with a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his
lips. "And in some cases, we have some dangerous skeletons in our
closet as well. Why, your family has it too, doesn't it? Oh, the horror
of a pureblood Malfoy trying to curry the favour of a Muggle in order
to marry her ..."
Lucius' eyes were slits of fury as his upper lip curled. "Good luck with
your N.E.W.T.s, Mr Potter. You'll be taking them at the end of next
year, I trust? I shall be looking forward to seeing what you do with
your life. Stay safe. It is not wise to remain unprotected when you
are housing a dangerous target. I wonder what Rabastan Lestrange
would say were he to know that his bast – ahem – illegitimate son
now wears the Heir ring."
"Well, since House Lestrange would have gone extinct if not for
Dylan, I would say he should be pleased," said Harry
dispassionately.
Malfoy pursed his lips and nodded, walking away. He would have to
explore the place to the best of his ability and find a weakness to it.
Even the most heavily fortified structure had a weakness; he just
needed to find it.
After the last of the guests had left, Harry changed out of his dress
robes, opting to wear only his boxer-briefs instead. Walking back
down, he plopped himself on the comfortable couch in the informal
drawing room, relaxing as the environmental charms around the
room blew cool air in his face. He was exhausted and was glad that
Dylan had taken the responsibility of putting Rigel to sleep.
"Had fun at the ball?" asked Daphne as she sat down opposite to
him. She too had changed out of her formal dress.
"Oh yes," he said, closing his eyes. "It went better than I thought it
would. What about you? I noticed that you were annoyed with
Cormac McLaggen. I don't blame you. I've heard rumours of his
bragging skills."
"You noticed?" asked Daphne bitterly, unable to hide the hurt in her
voice. She gave a watery chuckle. "I'm impressed! And here I
thought you had forgotten about my existence the entire evening."
Harry's eyes immediately snapped open. "What are you talking
about?" he asked, sounding confused.
"Don't play innocent with me," snapped Daphne angrily. "You didn't
talk to me during the entire event. You didn't ask me to dance with
you – not once! Instead, you were flirting with every girl that caught
your fancy. If you were planning on … do you have intentions of …
why did you do it, Harry?"
"Do what?!" asked Harry incredulously. "Daphne, the whole point of
this ball was to socialise with everyone. Everybody present wanted
to talk to me and, well, I didn't have time to search for you. Besides,
we were hosting the ball, and with everything going on, it's not like
we had to talk to each other at the time."
That was the wrong thing to say.
Daphne shook her head, and the young wizard was startled to see
tears pool in her eyes. He couldn't understand what was going on.
"So, you had been planning it all along," she said in a hollow voice. "I
should have known … how stupid of me to have not realised it until
now!"
Swallowing hard, Daphne stood up shakily and murmured, "Good
night, Harry. I'll see you at the World Cup."
Harry's eyes widened. World Cup? That was weeks away! Did his
fiancée just say that he wouldn't get to see her until then? Getting to
his feet, he rapidly moved towards her to stop her from leaving.
"Daphne, what the hell is wrong with you?" asked Harry angrily.
"What's wrong with me ?" shouted Daphne, her eyes suddenly
blazing with fury. "You expect me to remain calm about all this? You
ignored me for several hours straight! The ball went on for five hours!
Not once did you talk to me or did we make an appearance together!
Yes, you were busy talking to people from old to young, but that's the
problem. You did it alone! We're betrothed and we should have done
it together!"
"You could have just come up to me yourself. Not everything is my
fault," said Harry stiffly.
"And how was I to do that when you were being surrounded by girls
the entire time? Don't be dense, Harry. They weren't there only for
Rigel; they were there to curry favour with you!"
"But what's the point?" asked Harry coldly. "I'm already betrothed to
you, aren't I? How would it matter if they flirted with me? Why in
Merlin's name are you blowing things way out of proportion? You're
honestly not making any sense!"
"Really?" asked Daphne incredulously. "You still haven't realised why
I'm this upset? Why didn't you just tell me what you were planning?
At least then, I wouldn't have gotten this emotionally involved with
you!"
"Oh, just spit it out, will you? What the hell has gotten into you
today?" asked Harry, gritting his teeth. "If you're jealous because
people were around me –"
"Not another word, Potter," said Daphne, her eyes glinting
dangerously, not wanting to admit that he was spot on in detecting
her jealousy. "Clearly, since you are too stupid to realise what is
going on –"
Harry's eyes flashed angrily at being called stupid. " Well ?" he
hissed, switching to Parseltongue for an instant in his anger. "Tell
me, Greengrass, what did I miss?"
"You have a duel Lordship, a phenomenon that, historically, has
nearly always attracted multiple partners for the sole heir or heiress,"
said Daphne quietly, looking down at her feet. "You are the future
Lord Potter-Gryffindor and the Greengrass Lordship will also be
inherited by our children. All those girls were doing their best to gain
favour with you for that reason. Polygamy and polyandry are rare,
but not unheard of. Since you avoided me the entire evening, it's not
far off for me to assume that you were looking for a future wife for
those titles. If you were considering it, you could have at least told
me, Harry. Didn't it cross your mind that I deserve to be informed
about it?"
Daphne paused when she was greeted with silence. She looked up
in confusion and blinked in surprise at the shocked expression on
her fiancé's face. They stood there for a few moments, simply staring
at the other, trying to understand what the other was feeling. After
nearly a minute, Harry sighed and gently guided her to the sofa.
Kneeling before her, taking her hands in his, he began.
"Daphne," he said softly. "I swear to you, such thoughts never even
crossed my mind! I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know."
"Y-You mean," she stuttered, "You weren't actually –"
" No! Never! And as for us not making an appearance together,
Daph, I seriously don't think anyone noticed!"
"You may not have noticed it, but everybody at the ball did," Daphne
whispered miserably as she wiped the tears away. "Just wait and
see. Girls will start flirting with you shamelessly to gain your
attention, thinking you're willing to take another wife. You might start
to get offers from their parents for betrothal contracts and –"
That was all she said before Harry silenced her with a kiss. Sitting
down next to her on the couch, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling
her closer. Tilting his head to the side, he deepened the kiss, making
Daphne moan slightly. Pushing her on her back, he collapsed on top
of her, still kissing her. After a minute, they broke apart, gasping for
air.
"I know that I should say this more often," said Harry quietly. "I love
you very much, Daphne. No girl could compare to you, now or ever! I
didn't know that they were flirting with me, honest! I thought they
were there for Rigel. I didn't think you would jump to conclusions like
this. I'm really sorry, Daphne. But if you're worried about the future,
then don't, because there is no way in hell that I'm getting married to
anyone but you. You are my one and only. A wise man once said that
you insult your wife by taking another and I truly believe that with all
my heart."
Daphne's heart swelled with emotion, and she looked like she would
burst with happiness. Cupping his face, she whispered, "I'm sorry
too, Harry. I –"
Not giving her a chance to speak, he once again kissed her
passionately. Daphne enjoyed it, smiling into the kiss as her hands
roamed over the skin of his upper body. Harry was hers and no one
was going to say otherwise.
Harry smiled as he kissed her jaw, secretly enjoying how she was
acting. He never thought that Daphne could be so possessive of him
but he liked it. They were already betrothed so it was natural that
they felt the other belonged to them, but he had to admit that neither
of them had any experience with romance. They could only learn as
they went along.
Sitting up, he pulled her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her
waist. "Are you happy now?" he asked softly.
"Yes," Daphne breathed out, running her fingers over his firm chest.
Nuzzling his face against hers, she placed light kisses along the side
of his face adoringly. "And I love you too."
They stayed there for a while, listening to each other's heartbeats
before they locked lips in a heated kiss. Both of them groaned softly
in arousal as their hands roamed. Harry's fingers deftly undid the
buttons of Daphne's nightdress and slowly slid his hand up.
Daphne giggled slightly, pulling away from him. "Someone's being a
bit forward," she teased.
Harry looked back at her with mock innocence. "I figured you'd stop
me if you didn't want me to proceed."
"Just stop you? I have half a mind to chop your hands off, Potter!"
A soft laugh escaped his mouth as he pulled her closer, capturing
her earlobe with his teeth and nibbling on it. "Highly unlikely," he
murmured. "You love me too much to do that."
Daphne moaned sweetly as he began to kiss her neck. She
whispered coyly, "You shouldn't believe everything you hear. I'm a
compulsive liar."
This time Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Liar," he shot back softly.
Their faces inched closer and soon, they began kissing lazily.
Daphne's dress lay pooled on the floor next to them, with her sitting
on Harry's lap wearing only her bra and panties.
"You're so beautiful," murmured Harry in awe, taking in the sight
before him.
Daphne blushed. She captured his lips in another searing kiss as his
hands moved towards her breasts, cupping them. He seemed
unsure of how to proceed, so she placed a hand on his and
squeezed gently. Wanting to pleasure her fiancé in return, the young
Greengrass heiress traced her fingers over the prominent bulge in
his underwear.
Harry groaned into her mouth and Daphne couldn't help but smile.
With quick movements, his cock was free from the confines of his
underwear and Daphne wasted no time in wrapping her hand around
it. It felt warm and hard in her hand. Slowly, she began stroking it.
Pulling back from the kiss, she murmured, "Is that okay?"
Harry made a noise of agreement. They continued kissing slowly,
both enjoying the development in the physical aspect of their
relationship.
Ten minutes later, they heard the patter of feet on the marble floor
outside the drawing room and within moments, Dylan interrupted
their solitude. Strangely, he looked crestfallen, something the couple
picked up immediately. Harry raised his eyebrows at his fiancée but
Daphne shook her head, indicating that she too had no idea why the
younger boy was upset. They untangled themselves from each
other's arms, looking at the boy worriedly.
"Okay, there's something bothering you," said Daphne quietly as she
got off Harry's lap to get dressed. "What's wrong, Dylan?"
Dylan simply raised an eyebrow at their appearance. Harry was
practically naked, with his erect cock sticking out of the waistband of
his light grey boxer-briefs while Daphne's nightdress was on the
floor, wrinkled and creased, with her wearing only a pair of black
coloured bra and panties. With a mental shrug, he sat down. After
having walked in on them various times over the past year, he was
not surprised or embarrassed to see them in such a state.
"I don't understand it myself," he admitted finally. "I – I felt like
someone had punched me in the stomach when Draco Malfoy asked
Astoria to dance."
"Oh, Dylan," said Daphne softly, moving over to give him a warm
hug. He immediately melted into her embrace like it was the most
natural thing in the world. "It's just a dance."
"Yeah, and they spent the next two hours with each other," muttered
Dylan. Harry and Daphne shared looks with each other. Clearly, they
had not anticipated this.
"Do you harbour romantic feelings for Astoria?"
"I don't know," he said, running his fingers through his brown hair,
upsetting the loose curls. "I – I think I do. I mean, she's my best
friend and – well – what's there to not like about her? And now
Malfoy comes over and, we're still twelve, I know, but – what chance
do I stand against someone like Malfoy?"
"Oh, please," Daphne scoffed. "If there ever was a competition
between you and Draco, you would win hands down."
"Exactly," said Harry, sitting on the sofa by his brother's side.
" What? "
"I swear, I'm stuck with the two most clueless boys on the planet,"
muttered Daphne, shaking her head. "Listen here, lover boy. This is
not a competition for my sister's heart, but even if it were, you would
win. You and Tori are already close friends. You are a model student;
people like talking to you – trust me, there are many who don't like
Draco because of his arrogance – you are a Lestrange, so you have
the money and standing in society –"
"And a bastard to boot," said Dylan bitterly.
"Dylan, you have to get over that!" Harry said harshly. "There is no
escaping it, just like there is no escaping the fact that I'm a
Parselmouth. You need to accept the situation for what it is and
move on. There isn't anything you can do about it!"
"– not to mention you are much better looking than albino Draco,"
finished Daphne, acting as though she hadn't been interrupted.
"I'm not better looking than Malfoy," protested Dylan.
"Okay, now you are just fishing for compliments," Daphne glared at
him. "Trust me, Dylan, I'm a girl. I know what to look for in a guy and
what makes him desirable and there is no comparison between you
and Draco. You were looking very handsome today and you know it!
I never had to give this speech to Harry because unlike you, he
knows of his good looks and is rather proud of it."
"I'm not vain," Harry exclaimed. "Besides, I still stand by the notion
that looks aren't everything, but who listens to me?"
"I never said you were," Daphne chuckled. "My point is, if there ever
is a choice between you and Draco, I'm confident Tori will make the
right choice."
"Daphne, they're only twelve," said Harry, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, and we are only fourteen. It doesn't matter. From what I have
heard from some of the Muggle-borns in school, most Muggles tend
to date a lot of different people before they settle down. In the
magical world, that doesn't happen, does it? My grandmother – who
is a magical theorist, mind you – believes that a witch or wizard's
inherent magic would guide them to people who might be the best
match for them. Not sure how true it is, but it does explain why such
attraction starts young for some and later for others. Your father had
an eye on your mother since the age of eleven, did he not?"
Harry nodded in confirmation.
"Well, with my parents, they hardly dated anyone until they were
nineteen, which was when they became friends and developed
feelings for the other," said Daphne. "But that's not the problem right
now. Let me talk to Astoria and –"
"Wait, don't!" cried Dylan, panicking. "If she realises that I like her
then –"
"Oh, give me some credit, Dylan!" said Daphne, sounding irritated.
"I'm not going to do it directly. I'll let you know of any progress. I'll see
you guys tomorrow."
Giving Harry a kiss on the cheek, she headed towards the fireplace
to Floo home.
Harry folded his arms behind his head. "This certainly has been an
interesting day," he muttered.
Dylan groaned as his head hit the back of the sofa. He really hoped
that Daphne did not blow it with Astoria. The last thing he wanted
was for him to lose his best friend.
At the end of August, the finals of the Quidditch World Cup
approached. Security was beefed up considerably as a million
people had come to watch the finals. The turnout was greater than
anyone expected. Apparently, Fudge had done a number on
international relations, but Sirius took that job seriously when he
became Minister of Magic. That, in turn, led to more witches and
wizards coming to Britain for the World Cup. The stadium was truly
an awe-inspiring spectacle of magic. Great care was taken to ensure
that no Muggles were near the vicinity.
Harry and Dylan had taken their respective roles well; Sirius being
their guardian meant they had to take part in many diplomatic
functions. Harry barely had time to finish attending the sword-fighting
class he had enrolled for the summer with how busy he was in
interacting with so many international ambassadors and heads of
magical governments, not to mention their delegates.
Since he was the Boy-Who-Lived, it generated a lot of attention for
him. No one else in the history of the nine hundred plus years of the
Killing Curse had ever survived it after making contact with a person,
much less reflect it back at the caster – as a baby! Harry didn't mind,
though. This was an outstanding opportunity to make international
contacts and he was quite happy to speak with them. Languages
weren't a problem in the magical world. A translation potion ensured
that you could speak and understand any other language, but
unfortunately, it didn't work on magical languages like Parseltongue.
The finals of the World Cup had Ireland playing Bulgaria. The
stadium holding a million people was packed with advertisements
and vendors of every kind. Harry smiled when he saw the biggest hit
of them all – Miller's Magic Mirrors. Stores had opened in all six
continents after Harry had been willing to spend an additional
twenty-five million Galleons on it – it had been worth every single
coin of gold. The mirrors had been a major hit everywhere and Harry
couldn't believe the amount of gold he was receiving as he owned
half the company. Serena Miller had become a world-famous
enchantress in a blink of an eye. Her face now appeared in magical
business magazines and she had repeatedly thanked Harry for what
he had done. Truthfully, she would never have become this big
without Harry willing to contribute millions of Galleons to fund her
business.
Then there had been the simple, unintentional investment he and
Sirius had made a few years prior. Firebolt Broomsticks had been
very new to the market and Harry had found it interesting that the
manufacturer said he was going to create a new form of broomsticks
that would be the fastest in the world. Giving him a chance, they both
had invested in it on the advice of Ragnok – not knowing that it
would be very profitable in the future. The Firebolt had become THE
broomstick for Quidditch in international matches. Harry himself had
been gifted one by his godfather for his birthday and he couldn't
believe how amazing it was.
As they climbed up the stairs of the stadium, they reached the Top
Box which had several purple and glit chairs, clearly meant for
important people – and those who could afford the outrageous prices
needed to sit here. Apparently, Lucius did not mind spending
thousands of Galleons on three seats as he, Narcissa and Draco
were here. Harry chuckled mentally. Say what you want about
Lucius, but there was no denying that he loved his family. Not many
would have spent that much money to take their son to a Quidditch
match and acquire seats at the Top Box, but then again, Lucius
might have been here to make business connections himself.
Sirius and Amelia were dressed in rich robes as they greeted the
delegation brought by the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria. Harry had to
blink a few times when he spotted the last people he expected to see
here.
"What are you guys doing here?" asked Harry with a surprised smile.
"Attending the Quidditch World Cup, of course!" said Fred Weasley
happily.
"Ludo Bagman owed a few large favours to dad," George told him
quietly.
"Ah, understood."
"Harry, this is our oldest brother Bill," said Fred. "He works for
Gringotts as a curse-breaker. And this is our second-oldest brother,
Charlie. He works in the Romanian Dragon Reserve. Guys, this is
our friend, Harry Potter."
"Nice to meet you, Mr Potter," Bill smiled as he shook Harry's hand.
"Fred and George have told us a lot about you."
"It's not every day you get to meet your boss," grinned Charlie.
Harry chuckled as he shook Charlie's hand. Ron Weasley apparently
heard that so he said, "What boss?"
"Harry owns the dragon reserve Charlie works for," George
answered with a casual shrug.
Daphne had been observing the family critically.
The Weasley family, until recently, had been very poor but the
incident with Lockhart, however bad it was, helped them as it gave
them a lot of money. They got half of Lockhart's total wealth, which
thanks to his book sales, was considerable for someone of their
station. The clothes they now wore were not second hand and the
increase in their confidence was noticeable.
Hearing a child crying, Harry turned around. Amelia was trying to
calm Rigel down, unsuccessfully, as she already hands her hands
full.
"Harry, please calm him down," said Amelia desperately, handing the
baby off to his godfather.
"Don't worry, Aunt Amy, I'll handle it," said Harry soothingly, taking
the baby from her arms. "Oh, come on Rigel. Cheer up. Look! Those
advertisements are sparkly!"
Dylan also joined him and people in the top box were given a show
of the twelve and fourteen-year-old boys trying to calm down the
one-year-old baby. After about fifteen minutes, his crying subsided
and Rigel's hair turned auburn and eyes his favourite shade of
emerald green.
Astoria was chatting with Dylan, telling how cute it was to watch him
with little Rigel when someone else decided to make their presence
known.
"Hello Astoria," said Draco in his usual drawling voice.
"Oh, Hi Draco," Astoria smiled brightly. "Fancy seeing you here."
"I wasn't about to miss the World Cup!" said Draco, grinning. Dylan
quietly left, not wanting to be involved in their conversation,
something which Astoria noticed. Not that Draco had acknowledged
Dylan anyway, so it didn't matter.
Sitting next to Harry and Daphne, he sighed. "I take it you still
haven't spoken to her?" he asked quietly.
"Not yet," said Daphne. "I was thinking of doing it tonight."
A few minutes later, Astoria returned and sat next to Dylan,
wondering why he was suddenly silent and withdrawn. Harry handed
Rigel over to Daphne and went to Sirius who had beckoned him. He
spent several minutes talking to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and
his daughter who wanted to be a professional duellist once she
graduated from Durmstrang. Daphne pursed her lips at seeing the
Minister's daughter blatantly flirting with Harry and checking him out,
but kept her silence.
The Irish team mascots were unveiled and it turned out that the
Department of Magical Games and Sports had really outdone
themselves. Leprechauns were flying over their heads, dropping
thick gold coins. Harry was quite amused when people began diving
under their seats, trying to scoop as many coins as they could.
"And now the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" shouted Ludo
Bagman, looking expectantly down at the pitch.
"I should have known," said Daphne darkly as the Veela emerged.
She blinked her eyes in shock when Harry simply kissed her on the
cheek.
"Who needs Veela when I have you?" he whispered in her ear.
Daphne felt her face heat up as she blushed.
Dylan wasn't so successful in fighting off the allure, though. He had
gotten up and was about to dive from the Top Box (not that he would
have succeeded as there were wards preventing anyone from doing
that), but he was pulled back by an annoyed looking Astoria.
"Huh?" he said, looking confused. "What's going on?"
"You were affected by the Veela allure," said Astoria through gritted
teeth. Somehow, she didn't like it. She knew it was natural for all
young boys and men to be affected by it – hell, even Harry's gaze
had softened – but when Dylan acted like that, her stomach
clenched painfully. Why did that happen?
"Oh," said Dylan, blushing madly. "Sorry about that."
And then the game started. It was really amazing, especially with the
enormous Miller's mirrors being placed at every corner of the
stadium. Small crystals followed the players everywhere and once
the goal was scored, the mirrors would play the same in slow motion.
Everyone enjoyed themselves and the food served at the Top Box
was spectacular. The match ended with Ireland winning 170-160 with
Victor Krum catching the snitch. The noise was deafening but Harry
had already placed a silencing charm around Rigel so that he did not
have to deal with the noise. Once the trophies were handed out,
people began leaving the stadium to celebrate. The people in the
Top Box adjourned to the after party which was held with all the
players and officials.
Amelia had given strict instructions to ensure everything was under
control outside. The last thing they needed was something to destroy
all the good international relations they had built up over the past six
months.
"You were brilliant, Mr Krum," said Harry, smiling slightly at the
seeker. "I have tried the Wronksi Feint many times myself, but I must
admit, I usually pull up a little higher than you."
"Harry Potter, right?" asked Krum, frowning slightly.
"Yes, nice to meet you," said Harry shaking his hand.
"You're a seeker too?"
"I play for my House team at Hogwarts," Harry shrugged. "We were
able to win the Quidditch Cup for the last two years. I love the game,
but I don't think I'll be playing professionally. I heard you're still at
school. It must be difficult to manage school and practice sessions at
the same time."
"You get used to it after a while. I love playing Quidditch which is why
I deal with it, though I could do without -"
"– the creepy, stalking fans?" finished Harry, looking amused. "I can
understand how you feel. I've just gotten used to dealing with it."
The after party went on for a few hours as delicious food was served
to everyone. At two in the morning when Sirius, Amelia, Harry, Rigel
and Dylan returned to Black Manor, they breathed a sigh of relief.
The Quidditch World Cup had ended without any problems and had
been a massive hit.
"Daphne? You awake?"
"I am now. Come on in, Tori."
The lighting charms activated to a dim setting, bathing the room with
light. Daphne was sprawled on her bed and was looking at her sister
with one eye open. Astoria closed the door of the room and sat down
on the bed.
"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," said Astoria,
looking nervous. Daphne raised an eyebrow. It was a far cry from the
confident, sarcastic girl she was used to.
"What is it?"
Taking a deep breath, Astoria began. She told Daphne about how
Dylan's behaviour had confused her at the World Cup. She had
noticed that he had become withdrawn suddenly and didn't speak to
her. Then it was her reaction to him being attracted to the Veela. She
was quite confused.
"Do you like him, Tori?" asked Daphne, observing her sister.
"I – I don't know," admitted Astoria. "I mean, he's my best friend and
we spend a lot of time with each other; he's cute and – I thought I
had a crush on Draco, but now ..."
After a minute of silence, she said, "What if he stops being my friend
if he realises that like him? What if he feels awkward around me? I
don't want to lose him."
Daphne smiled. "Tell me something; why do you think Dylan became
withdrawn before the match?"
"I don't know."
"Well, what were you doing right before that happened?"
"I was talking to Draco," answered Astoria promptly.
"Uh-huh. I noticed the same reaction in him during the ball at Potter
Castle. When Draco asked you to dance, he became silent and
withdrawn."
"Why?" asked Astoria with a frown on her face.
"Oh, come on, Tori!" snapped Daphne. "You're smarter than that! Put
the pieces together! Dylan is a chatterbox. For him to become silent
like that means he didn't like you spending time with Draco!"
"But why would he not like it?" urged Astoria. "Unless –"
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean – he has a crush on me?"
"I don't know," Daphne shrugged casually. "That's something you
have to figure out yourself. But tell me something – if there ever were
a competition for your heart between Draco Malfoy and Dylan
Lestrange, who do you think would win?"
Astoria stared out of the windows, the cool breeze ruffling her brown
hair as a small, shy smile formed on her lips. Her cheeks turned pink
as she got off the bed.
"Thanks, Daphne," she said quietly. "Can you keep this between
us?"
"Of course, what are sisters for?" Daphne smirked at her. "You have
another year before you actually start dating boys, Tori. Daddy
wouldn't allow you to date before that. Take your time."
"I don't need time," whispered Astoria as she left the room with a
happy smile on her face. A smirk formed on her lips as she thought
about many delicious ways she could give Dylan hints about her
having a crush on him, but not outright telling him. This was going to
be fun!