Harrison Slytherin is not dead!
I know, I know - one more year has passed and still no news on my little Harry Potter re-write. But I've been surprisingly productive on that front latley, so hopefully this really is the last update you'll get from me before I am ready to upload the next school year.
And what do I have so far? A whooping 233k words, so once I actually manage to finish it, edit it and post it, there should be plenty to read before the drought comes back. As for how am I doing story-wise, I am writing a scene in the second half of June 1995, so I am really hoping to be done with the school year before long.
However, there is a lot of editing in my future, so please, don't get your hope too up. Still, I am mostly optimistic about not needing to write another post in a year for fourth anniversary.
And as a little treat, I have a small surprise for you under the cut once again. Hopefully it won't disappoint.
Love, Sandra
Harry is not happy about being in the uniform on a Sunday, but this time he understands it. There are two other schools coming and since this meeting is at least semi-formal, school uniforms for everyone involved makes sense. It even makes sense for everyone to stand with their own house and by their grades. If nothing else, first years in the front means that they might even see something. What that something is going to be, on the other hand…
“How do you think they are coming?” Harry asks quietly once they’re all piled in front of the school. He has Pansy to one side of him and Draco on the other. Theo stands next to Draco with Blaise next to him and on the other side of Pansy are the girls. The fifth years are right behind them with the prefects standing at the ends of their rows and the third years are in front of them. Daniel took his place in front of Theo and Harry smiled when he saw it, unsure whether Daniel did it on purpose or just absently.
“In a flashy way, certainly,” Pansy grumbles a bit, obviously displeased how… common their display is. But then again, they’re already here and it’s hard to make an impression that way. “Maybe by water?” But she sounds uncertain as she glances at the Great Lake. Harry slowly nods.
“It would make sense, wouldn’t it? The river leads straight to the sea, doesn’t it?”
Pansy shrugs just when Dumbledore speaks up.
“Ah! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”
With one last look towards the lake (where nothing happens), Harry looks towards the Forbidden Forest while Draco looks up, Pansy following his lead a beat after him. Excitement rolls throughout the student body, but while the Slytherins and Ravenclaws are busy looking around, Hufflepuffs whisper among themselves and Gryffindors outright yell. Luckily, Harry is so far away from Gryffindors that he doesn’t understand what they’re saying.
“There!” Draco whispers, excited, and all the people around them check to see where he’s looking. Harry catches it just when it soars above the forest, the dark shape of it quickly soaring to the ground in between them and the forest. It’s a big, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage pulled by a dozen Abraxans. Harry can’t help his awed look as the carriage draws close. A number of first years jump back when it comes hurling towards the students, but the Abraxans touch down and then with a thud the carriage lands and they stop just in time to be perfectly positioned in front of the Hogwarts students.
A young man in pale blue robes jumps off the carriage and unstraps a set of golden stairs that unfold from the carriage. Then he steps back a bit and out of the carriage steps the tallest, biggest woman Harry has ever seen. Dressed in black satin, her tan face looks towards Hogwarts with her dark eyes, her hair drawn back into a simple, but elegant bun.
She steps out of the carriage and stays looking at them. Then Dumbledore starts to clap and Harry hesitantly joins him. He hoped there would be a better greeting for their guests than this muggle way of showing awe.
“My dear Madame Maxime,” Dumbledore says happily as he steps closer to her. And Dumbledore is not a short man, but as this Madame Maxime hands him her hand, he hardly needs to bend to kiss it.
“A half-giant?” Pansy asks in bewilderment. Harry frowns but doesn’t look at her.
“Well, she is the headmistress of Beauxbatons,” Draco says carefully as Madame Maxime exchanges pleasantries with Dumbledore in heavily accented English. “And although I am not fond of Hagrid, he is not… giant-ish.”
“There’s not much about cross-species breeding,” Harry hears Theo say softly, obviously not wanting anyone to overhear, “but there is some evidence that when it comes to wizard-giantess breeding, the child though looking… unusually big is more like a wizard than a giant. And she is the headmistress. It will be fine.”
He doesn’t sound entirely sure of it himself, but Harry is still glad for the vote of confidence.
Harry keeps an ear on the niceties exchanged between the two heads of schools, but most of his attention is turned towards the handful of students who exited the carriage after Madame Maxime. There’s about twenty of them, all in robes or, in cases of girls, dresses with short capes in pastel colours. There are five different colours of these… uniforms; pale blue that the boy that opened the carriage for Madame Maxime wore, mint green, pale pink, light violet, and light yellow. Three girls also have matching scarfs draped over their heads, hiding their hair, and Harry is a bit surprised to see that. Isn’t hair a source of pride for witches?
There are also two adults standing with these students, a man and a woman, both wearing something similar to their students, though it’s obviously not uniform. The woman is wearing a blue dress with long sleeves reaching almost to her ankles. The dress is dark blue, and her light brown hair is tucked into a fancy hairstyle at the skull of her head with a delicate-looking headband making it a touch fancier. The man has short blonde hair and blue robes that manage to be lighter than the woman’s dress yet darker than the blue of the uniform of their students. Harry’s eyes stray towards him and a student in a pale blue dress with platinum hair. She fidgets a bit with a loose strand of silvery hair, the rest of which is braided in a half-circle at the lower part of her head, with tiny white flowers woven into it. It takes considerable effort for Harry to pull his attention away from them.
Madame Maxime accepts Dumbledore’s offer to go warm up in the castle, which gives them some moments before Durmstrang arrives. Harry leans closer to Pansy.
“Have you seen the scarfs?”
Pansy frowns a bit as she glances at him before looking around again. The whole student body is a little louder than before, everyone talking either about the Beauxbatons students or how Durmstrang is possibly coming.
“I’ve heard about that. Apparently, it’s something about religion?”
By Pansy’s confused voice, Harry guesses the religion in question is muggle. That makes him frown as well.
“How many muggle religions are there?”
Pansy smirks and shrugs, but as she opens her mouth Harry frowns and raises his hand, stopping her from speaking. He swears he can hear something…
Darkness fell slowly, so that now Harry almost can’t see the Dark Lake. But he swears that he can hear a sound coming from there.
And of course, that’s when the whirlpool in the Great Lake starts. Harry and Pansy take a second to smirk at each other, before they turn their attention to the lake just in time to watch a great ship rise from the water. It looks somewhat ghostly and makes shivers run down Harry’s spine, but it still looks majestic.
In a few minutes they can all hear the splash of an anchor being thrown in the shallows and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank. Soon after, they watch the Durmstrang students disembark. There’s also around twenty of them and as they walk up their way to the Hogwarts students, they all seem to have wide shoulders and figure to match it, but as they come closer it becomes obvious that it’s just an illusion created by their furry coats.
There is just one figure that looks slim and elegant from far away. And when they come close enough to recognize them, it’s obvious that it is the headmistress. Her coat looks sleeker and more fitted, but she does have the same warm hat as everyone else.
“Professor Dumbledore,” she curtly nods at him as she steps closer to him, her voice a little rough, but commanding respect. She offers her hand and Dumbledore grasps her forearm in greeting.
“Professor Kopachesky,” Dumbledore smiles at her, his eyes twinkling. “Welcome to Hogwarts!”
“It’s warmer than we were expecting this time of the year.” Her accent isn’t as strong as Maxime’s, but it’s still palpable. Clearly east European, but Harry is not sure it’s actually a Russian one. “Sorry for the delay. Your octopus was not too happy to see us.”
“Yes, yes, she’s a little protective of her territory,” Dumbledore laughs, and shivers run down Harry’s spine. He’s going to guess Dumbledore’s laughter is fake, then, as is his cordiality with Durmstrang’s headmistress. “Come, come. Madame Maxime already arrived, so we can start the feast.”
Oh joy.
