Published at 27th of May 2024 12:11 am

Chapter 143: Long Way Home

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1 September 1993, Hogwarts Express

Harry really should have expected the explosive hug that Daphne gave him the moment he entered the compartment. So, yeah, Harry found himself flung around by a blonde missile, who didn't seem intent on letting him go anytime soon, "I missed you too, Daph."

The snickering of his two other friends grabbed his attention, "Hello to you too."

Blaise smirked, "I missed you and everything, but I'm not going to hug you."

Tracy started giggling again and didn't say anything else. Well, it wasn't like he didn't expect anything else from the girl. She didn't seem to want to stop, and Harry could see that they weren't going to have a productive conversation as long as Daphne kept hugging him.

So, he looked down at the smiling blonde and said, "Daph. I get it, we haven't seen each other for three months, but I'd really like to sit down."

She blushed and practically leapt away from his embrace and sat back down in her spot. She was obviously trying to ignore what just happened, but her scarlet face proved otherwise. She was using her 'aristocratic princess neutral face' to hide her embarrassment.

Tracy and Blaise were now howling in laughter and the blonde glared at them, "If you two don't stop, I'll freeze your feet so hard that you won't walk for a month."

The laughter abruptly dissipated, leaving a satisfied Daphne smirking at them. Damn, that girl could be terrifying at times.

Choosing to ignore whatever madness happened in the previous couple of minutes, Harry spoke up, "So, how was your summer?"

"Horrible!" "Boring!" "Not that bad!"

The last one was from Blaise and the two other girls glared at him in envy. The dark-skinned boy raised his hands in defeat, "I was just being honest. My mother took me to Italy before the Azkaban fiasco, so I just had a regular summer there like I do every year. She wasn't even sure about letting go back to Britain, but she had some business here. I don't speak French so Beauxbattons was out, and my mother is a bit disliked in Eastern Europe so it wouldn't be any safer for me in Durmstrung even if they have classes in English."

No one asked why his mother wasn't liked in that part of the world and the boy looked grateful for it. Apparently, one of her old husbands was a beloved philanthropist there. And well, you can guess where this was going…

Daphne thankfully broke the silence, "What about Italy? There's bound to be a school there, and it should be all that bad."

"There is a school in Italy but it's kind of small, and it doesn't cover a lot of the material. My mother wouldn't have liked me getting a subpar education, and even if Hogwarts' standards have fallen in the last few decades, it's still very well known internationally, and everyone would give you a chance if you're missing something. As for the Accademia Arcana Italia, it's hard to put it into words but the people who graduate from are weird."

"Weird how?" Harry asked.

"Well, the school is very traditional. The students are sort of divided into cohorts. There are five in total, but each cohort is led by centurions. Each year, a few centurion candidates are selected by the school based on school performance and magical power, and after a vote, the centurion of each cohort is elected. And every term, a Praetor is elected by the entire student body. Each position of authority comes with a lot of power over their subordinates, unlike how all the prefects can do is give a few detentions and remove some points, and even then, they have to justify it to the professors. The professors pretty much don't have any authority outside their classrooms. Everything is handled privately, and they only punish the Centurions or the Praetors, who in turn can punish their subordinates as much as they like. The students are trained like the warriors of Ancient Rome, with a strong emphasis on discipline, honour, and order, you know, the whole Roman values they had two thousand years ago. It's essentially a military camp, but it's the only school in the country so a lot of people are stuck with it. Most of the magical families just send their kids to Durmstrung or Beauxbattons since they're better schools and their graduates don't have to adjust to the current society and are taught enough to be accepted. But muggleborns in Italy are normally stuck with the Academy since you can't get accepted into an international school without applying first."

Harry never really thought about magic schools all that much. There was Hogwarts in Scotland, Beauxbattons in France, Durmstrung in Northern Europe, Castelobruxo in Brazil, Ilvermorny in the United States, Uagadou in Uganda, and Mahoutokoro in Japan. But those were the big ones, the big schools that had graduates that changed the world, that advanced magic. But there had to be smaller schools, especially for people who just didn't speak the language or couldn't get into one of the bigger schools.

Blaise seemed to have had enough of the spotlight and directed it towards the girls, "So, while I was sunbathing on a beach in Italy, what were you up to ladies?"

They both glared at him, and Tracy started first, "Well, I was stuck at home under heavy wards. The only thing I could do was owl order stuff and even then, my parents had to cast a lot of detection charms on everything. I didn't even get to see the alley once. This is my first time outside my house in over two months, and I'm going to SCHOOL!"

Blaise practically wilted as the girl's voice got progressively louder. She was heaving by the end of her sentence. Daphne though continued for her in a frosty tone, "And I had to suffer for my 'heiress lessons' from my father without any reprieve. Every minute was an etiquette lesson of some sort. Do you have any idea how much I just wanted to bash his head in? 'A Greengrass never shows weakness', 'A Greengrass hides in the grass and strikes at the most opportune moment'. Well, I wanted to curse him at the most opportune moment. So, Blaise, what do you think I was up to?"

"Calm down, Daph," the Italian boy said while raising his hand in surrender, "What would the rest of the school say about their 'Ice Queen' if they saw you like this?"

Harry frowned, "How is she an Ice Queen? I really don't get it."

"Well, you don't see what she's like when you're not around. That frigid face of hers, and those murderous eyes make her really terrifying. After she froze a few bits with that horrible spell of hers, people started calling her that. Luckily for all of us, she pretty much melts whenever you're around. OUCH!"

Daphne had discreetly sent a stinging hex at his bits and the Italian boy yelped in pain. The blonde had a satisfied smile on her face, "Now, don't speak rubbish, Blaise dear."

"Yes, Ma'am," he responded, "I guess we don't have to ask Harry about his summer, do we?"

Tracy smirked, "Oh, you mean the summer where he publicly defied Dumbledore, told everyone about one of his secrets, and got away with it unscathed."

"No, I mean the summer when he was adopted by one of the most fearsome political players in the last century," Daphne retorted.

They both turned at once, giving him an expectant look. It was freaky, "I got nothing new to say, really. I wouldn't have gone after Dumbledore if he hadn't pretty much labelled me a future Dark Lord in front of half the ministry."

"And how did you know about his sister?"

Harry shrugged, "A vision. I told you that I had tended to get them over the last year. I saw Dumbledore, his brother and some other boy having a duel, there was this bright light and the girl in the room was dead. It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened. I was going to keep it to myself, but I got so angry at him during that hearing, and it sort of slipped out."

It wasn't the truth, but it was a very convenient lie. Really, having prophetic visions tended to make people stop questioning any weird knowledge he had. Natural foresight wasn't something that was well documented since it varied with every person, and Harry was taking advantage of that.

"Well, congratulations, you have done the most damage to his political standing than people have in fifty years," Daphne said approvingly.

"Yeah, and it was dumb. I painted a target on my back with that. Sure, his speech was overshadowed by my revelations, but people are now a bit more wary of me, and Dumbledore will now consider me to be an enemy, something that I didn't really want."

Blaise snorted, "I can't believe that Dumbledore was taken down by a vision of all things. I'm assuming you're taking Divination this year."

"I'm going to try it out and if I don't like it, I'll just leave. I already decided to take all the electives apart from muggle studies. And even then, I'm going to try to have an OWL in it in my fifth year."

"What would you need a muggle studies OWL for?" Tracy asked.

"A lot of jobs need them. I'm thinking about going into curse-breaking and it's one of the requirements. You only really need to pass, so an A is enough, but there are a lot of other jobs that need it too. Obliviators, Hit Wizards, and a lot of other professions require an OWL in muggle studies. It seems silly to rule out a lot of good careers just to not take a simple exam in a few years, especially one that is stupidly easy to pass."

"Only you would think that taking an extra OWL is the same as a simple exam," Tracy answered with a snort.

Harry shrugged, "You could ask your mother about it," the last Potter responded, "She probably knows more about it than I do."

That was a true statement. Tracy's mother worked in the ministry. Harry didn't know in which department exactly since the girl never shared that information, but she should be knowledgeable about the most common requirements for a lot of job applications.

Funnily enough, muggle studies, charms, and arithmancy were the most demanded skills in the ministry. They didn't care about Defense outside of the DMLE, transfiguration was always a plus, but not really useful in an office. The high-level NEWT electives like Enchanting and Alchemy were just overkill.

Tracy obviously didn't want to talk about it and changed the subject, "Sure, I will. Now, you wouldn't believe what I heard Nott talking about."

Theodore Nott was a bookish boy in their year. He had a small group made up of Lily Moon and Millicent Bulstrode. He wasn't really a sociable person, then again, neither was Harry. He was just a quiet boy who kept to himself. He was somewhat good in class, but nothing to really write about.

However, the most remarkable thing about him was his father, Cassius Nott, who was one of the most infamous 'Imperius victims' in the war. He was also rumoured to be a sadistic man who revelled in the suffering of others, and with Lucius Malfoy out of the way, he was one of the biggest contenders as the leader of the traditionalist faction in the Wizengamot.

The man's reputation was one of the biggest reasons everyone just avoided Nott altogether. Harry didn't care enough to actively befriend anyone in his first year, and his current friends had basically attached themselves to him, something that he was currently grateful for.

Still, Harry would keep an eye on the Nott scion for the foreseeable future. He hoped that the apple fell far from the tree.

Blaise straightened up, hoping to hear some gossip, "What is it?"

"Well, he said that his father was busy talking to Karkaroff all summer, you know, the headmaster of Durmstrung. Apparently, there's this big event next year and they wanted to come to some kind of arrangement. I don't know what it is, but it's an international thing. That's on top of the Quidditch World Cup."

Harry knew what they were talking about. The tri-wizard tournament wasn't something that could spontaneously be arranged. It was an international event, a traditional tournament that had far too many deaths for comfort by today's standards. They had to change a lot, make a lot of compromises to get the sweet spot between safety and entertainment.

Before he could interject, they all turned towards the door, where someone was knocking. It wasn't the fact that someone was knocking that made them freeze, but who was in front of the door?

It was Neville Longbottom.

Harry hesitantly waved his wand causing the door to unlock. The boy who lived opened the door and spoke up hesitantly, "Potter. Can we talk for a bit?"

Well, that was surprising.

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