Twisted Fascination

The next time I awoke, I had a wicked migraine. I groaned as I opened my eyes, only to see the sun shining bright down into the room. I groaned again as I heard footsteps headed for my bed, knowing damn-well that I was about to get the scolding of a lifetime from Madame Pomfrey.

It took her half an hour to lecture me about being out in the snow and nearly dying twice in two years from said snow. Of course, it could have lasted longer, but Dumbledore came strolling into the hospital wing with Snape, McGonagall, and Moody, much to my exasperation.

“Detention, Potter,” Snape said right away, “For a month.”

I bit back a heavy sigh as I accepted the fact I had to get my ass chewed up and spat back out by Snape during the detentions. Nevertheless, I said, “Yes, sir.”

“Fifty points from Slytherin,” he continued.

I looked at the man in shock, but he only glared at me. “Sir, it'll take me three weeks to earn that back.”

He scowled fiercely. “In that time, you can reflect on how you lost them in the first place.”

I was going to argue against the blatantly unfair punishment, but I was interrupted by Moody.

He unceremoniously tossed a paper onto my chest, causing everyone to fall silent.

I blinked stupidly before looking down at the paper. I almost immediately groaned as I saw a picture of my somber expression. I looked away from the picture and toward the adults, all of whom were underneath Dumbledore’s ‘Greater Good’ ideology. “Yes, I know. How dare I go running off to Skeeter with my troubles–”

“You clearly didn't read the headline,” Moody interrupted.

I paused before looking down at the headline in question.

‘The Boy-Who-Lived is a Bully Brother?!’

I blinked stupidly before picking up the paper and reading over it. As my mind processed the information presented in the article, I came to the horrific realization that Skeeter had somehow overheard Harry's and my entire conversation in the abandoned classroom. I felt the eyes of the adults on me, and I begrudgingly looked up at them. “That wasn't supposed to be in the paper. It was a conversation between Harry and I.”

“That's not why I brought the paper, Potter,” Moody said dryly. He very clearly saw my confused expression, and he rubbed his chin. “You know about the prophecy.”

“Oh, that,” I said softly, causing him to grunt.

“Yes, that,” he replied. “You realize that it was kept quiet for a reason, right?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “I understood why it was originally kept a secret, not why it still remains a secret.”

“It’s because the Dark Lord is moving now,” he informed me so blatantly, I was taken back. “You have to know that, especially after what happened at the Quidditch World Cup.”

I blinked a few times before admitting, “I don't see how telling Harry the prophecy will change the fact that the Dark Lord is on the move.”

“You see,” Dumbledore interjected, “He may have been drawn further back into the shadows now the prophecy was revealed to the public.”

“Sir, with all due respect,” I said with an even expression, “You should be worried about how his followers are starting to stir to life once more. I mean, you had to have read the paper about what happened at the Quidditch World Cup.”

He sighed heavily. “Yes, I did. Whoever may be helping the Dark Lord could very well be moving more cautiously now, too.”

I was going to point out the flaw in his logic when something else caught my attention. “I'm sorry, but it sounded like you had an idea as to what their plan was.”

“The revival of the Dark Lord has always been their plan,” Dumbledore said gravely.

I stared at him for a moment before sitting up with a bit of a struggle. “Sir, I hate to break this to you, but you're wrong.”

“What does that mean, Potter?” McGonagall asked, looking quite worried.

“Not all of his followers are determined to have him revived,” I said. “Any of the ones who remained out of Azkaban could have easily searched for him, but no such thing happened. It took Quirrell stumbling across the Dark Lord to get that particular ball rolling.”

“What does that mean?” Moody asked as he narrowed his beady black eye at not me, but Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “Alastor, I may have neglected to tell you some things about past professors.”

“You should have said something before,” Moody all but growled.

“He absolutely should have,” I agreed. “But that's not something that can be changed now. Instead, the focus should be on finding Lestrange.”

“Rodolphus Lestrange?” Moody inquired as his blue eye rolled toward me.

“Yes,” I confirmed, “The Dark Lord and him are together.”

“How do you know?” Moody asked suspiciously.

“Whether you realize it or not, the Dark Lord has deep ties to Harry and I. A few of his more powerful memories are transferred to Harry and I,” I said. “I believe I can remember my mother dying because it's his last memory before he was blown to smithereens. Besides that, I know of some countryside manor that he hides in with Lestrange doing his bidding with another Death Eater.”

Dumbledore paled deeply as he stared down at me, and the other adults weren't much better. “Colton, you have a scar from the Dark Lord…”

Moody looked at me with both eyes before his beady eye widened in shock as I pulled down my shift, revealing the lightning bolt scar on my collarbone. He then snapped his head around and growled at Dumbledore, “You never said anything–”

“I didn't know until Colton, himself, showed me the scar,” Dumbledore interrupted.

“In any case, it's too late to change things,” I said gravely, “The Dark Lord had tried to kill my brother already, so it's obvious that he believes that Harry is truly the Boy-Who-Lived. If he was under the impression that Harry was the danger, then he must be right.”

Moody stared at me incredulously. “So you've just accepted that you'll be the one to die?”

“I have,” I confirmed, and I meant it. “I've been a horrible person for the majority of my life, and if given the chance between repenting by dying or becoming worse by sacrificing my brother, I've decided to do the right thing and die.”

Moody looked enraged on my behalf, something that was rather out of character for him. He turned toward Dumbledore and growled, “You clearly haven't been watching over these children like you said you have if this one's become so warped.”

“He has!” McGonagall said defensively, “The wards around the Dursleys keep them protected–”

“The Dursleys aren't good people, Minerva,” Snape interrupted with a sneer. “Surely, you know that.”

The woman hesitated for a moment before saying, “Dumbledore wouldn't intentionally harm them–”

“Be it intentional or otherwise, you can't deny the fact that Potter’s reaction isn't normal,” Moody said sharply.

McGonagall remained silent then, knowing herself that Moody spoke the truth.

“Potter, the allegations of abuse that Shacklebolt is investigating are true, aren't they?” Moody asked me sternly.

“So what if they are?” I asked with a raised brow. “They're my legal guardians–”

The man scowled deeply. “Not for much longer–”

“Alastor, I know you're upset,” Dumbledore interrupted calmly, “But you have to understand that it will keep them alive and protected from the Dark Lord. The blood wards around the Dursley residence will make it impossible for the Dark Lord or his followers to go near it.”

I frowned at the information Dumbledore provided me, making it my personal mission to see just how I could break those wards to get a better guardian for Harry and myself.

Moody still looked upset, but he nodded once, understanding that fighting against Dumbledore wasn't going to be easy.

“Colton, my boy, you must stay there,” Dumbledore said to me.

“I'm not worried about the Dursleys so much as the tournament,” I said honestly. “I mean, my exam scores are going to suffer.”

Pomfrey looked at me with great confusion. “You won't have to take the exams–”

“I'll let you steal away my O’s when I'm dead,” I grumbled irritably.

The adults looked down at me incredulously.

“I want to take my finals, especially if I'm going to be prepared for my O.W.L.’s next year,” I said firmly.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose with nothing but exasperation. “Potter, you should focus on your survival first and foremost. How will you take your exams if you don't even make it through the tournament?”

I paused for a second before realizing the man had a point. “I'll just have to study that much harder, then.”

Snape looked ready to swat the side of my head, but he restrained himself from doing so. He clearly had more patience than even I predicted.

“In any case,” Moody interjected, “You need to have your head on a swivel. We still don't know who entered you, and you are in very real danger.”

“Yes, I understand that,” I assured the former Auror.

“Good,” Moody approved with a single nod. He then turned to Dumbledore and said, “We should have a chat later.”

Dumbledore nodded, though he looked quite reluctant to do so.

“May I leave soon?” I asked Pomfrey as innocently as possible.

“You nearly froze to death!” She yelled angrily as the other adults decided to take their conversation elsewhere.

“But I'm good now, right?” I questioned.

“Mr. Potter, I cannot stress how dangerously close you came to frostbite–”

I tuned the woman out, nodding along here and there while occasionally apologizing.

Eventually, she seemed satisfied and allowed me to leave.

I was quite grateful as I got changed and left the hospital wing behind, the newspaper tucked firmly under my arm. I briefly checked the time with my wand before deciding that I would get my bag and head to my classes. I quickly made my way through the school, ignoring how I was the focus of murmurs and double-glances alike. I descended the stairs to the dungeons and came to a stop outside of a stone wall. I said the password, only for the wall to not open. My brow furrowed before I tried again.

The wall refused to open.

“Potter…”

I threw a glance over my shoulder, only to see Pucey staring down his nose at me. “Did the password change?”

The older Slytherin sneered as he answered, “Of course it did.”

I frowned deeply as I turned to stare directly at the Prefect. “Is there a problem?”

“You tell me, Potter,” he replied as his sneer only got nastier. “Are you a spy for Dumbledore?”

“I'm not,” I answered. “Why would you think something so disgusting?”

“You don't think it's disgusting to have Slytherin’s reputation dragged through the mud?” He challenged as he motioned to the paper still under my arm. “You clearly value the Boy-Who-Lived over your own House.”

“I don't expect you to understand anything,” I replied dismissively, “You grew up as an only child in a nice home with both of your pureblood parents. You have no idea what it's like being forced into a muggle household where you are treated like scum for merely existing.”

“So you think we'll just forgive you for going behind our backs?” Pucey asked as if he actually thought I valued the opinions of others like himself.

“I don't expect you to do anything more than let me into the common room,” I said.

He clicked his tongue at me. “You've always been arrogant, and I don't think the Dark Lord will have any mercy for you.”

“I'm not looking for his mercy,” I stated honestly.

“You’re just as foolish as your parents,” Pucey said with disdain evident all over his face.

“Be that as it may, I have classes to attend. Open the common room and spare my brain cells from being in the same general location as your stupidity,” I demanded.

“Or what?” Pucey asked as he smirked.

I didn't even blink as I used my magic to strike the boy’s mental shield just hard enough to make him wince away from me. As he staggered back a few steps, I asked, “Are you truly going to test me, Pucey?” 

“You pathetic half-blood–”

“I’m pathetic?” I interrupted coldly. “I’m not the one trying to gain power over a fourth-year.”

Pucey glared at me fiercely.

Before we could continue to spat even more, the wall to the Slytherin common room opened up.

“I'll see you around, Pucey,” I said as I narrowed my eyes at the older Slytherin. I then entered and headed for my bag, ignoring the way Pucey began to mutter a few choice words under his breath at me. I headed to my dorm room, paying no mind to how everyone suddenly seemed to share Pucey's disdain for me. I entered my shared room calmly, only to pause upon seeing Nott and Zabini quickly move away from each other. I raised a brow as they had jolted away from my bed. “May I help you two?”

“You’re awake,” Nott said aloud.

“Very astute,” I commented dryly.

The boy across from me scowled defiantly.

Zabini quickly slipped into the conversation. “Erm, Potter, not to upset you or anything, but you’ve been dead to the world for a week. We weren't sure when you would wake up.”

“That's hilarious,” I said with a blanched expression.

“Here's this morning’s newspaper,” he said as he grabbed something from my bed and held it out toward me.

I felt something akin to dread fill me as I gently took the paper. I flipped the Daily Prophet over to see the date, and I groaned loudly. “That's seven days of missed work…”

“That's not the worst of it,” Nott said gravely, “You're not exactly Slytherin’s favorite anymore.”

“Pucey made that abundantly clear already,” I said with a scowl. “All over an article by bloody Skeeter.”

“Well, is it true?” He asked.

“Halfway,” I said as I threw the two papers onto my bed and began to rummage around my trunk for my books. “I did everything for Harry growing up, and I told him about the prophecy. You'd think he'd be more grateful to me, but he was an ass that called me selfish. I know he's going to backpedal, and I'll be seen as a truly horrible person if I don't accept right away.”

Zabini stared at me in a calculating manner as I sighed heavily. “Are you sure he's the Boy-Who-Lived?”

“I’m certain,” I confirmed, “I'm just the extra who will die.”

Both Nott and Zabini stared at me as if in disbelief.

I grabbed my homework for Ancient Runes that was due about half a week ago and closed my trunk. I then packed away my notes and such before straightening up. “It's easier to hate me now and find no need for solace later,” I informed the two before heading off to my class.

They remained quiet, letting me do as I pleased.

I had sought comfort in being alone before, and I'd do it again if I had to. I didn't need those tender bonds to people called “friends” after all, not if they were all easily broken like mere threads.

The other Slytherins seemed to avoid me, instead talking behind my back like the snakes they were.

I smirked to myself, knowing that I had asked for such a thing when I agreed to be in the House I was stuck in. I was glad that I had predicted such a thing, knowing that Slytherin would never truly accept someone from a Light family. I just had to tough things out until I could eventually die in peace.

§If you began acting like a reasonable person, you'd realize there'd be no need to die,§ the Dark Lord hissed angrily in my mind.

I ignored that voice and the disdain that followed. I wouldn't be the reason that my brother died. I had one duty before all others, and overtaking the Dark Lord wasn't it. I made my way up the stairs and to my classroom, where I sat down much to the surprise of my professor.

“Mr. Potter, I wasn't expecting you back so soon after you woke up,” she said.

“I'm not going to miss more classes than I already have,” I said.

She chuckled as if I had said something truly amusing. “You're just as stubborn as your mother.”

I blinked a few times in surprise before filing that tidbit of information away for later.

“Let me see your homework,” she said, causing me to immediately fish it out of my bag and hand it over.

She glanced over it before sighing. “You really shouldn't know about, much less be using, some of these Runes this early.”

“I like the work of figuring out which can go where,” I said.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “You like experimenting?”

“I wouldn't put it that way,” I denied, “Experimenting could lead to something dangerous like an explosion. I merely use Arithmancy to properly determine which Runes should be used.”

The woman turned her gaze back to my paper. “It never occurred to me to mix the two like this.”

I remained silent.

“Tell me, Mr. Potter, do you see a future in deciphering Ancient Runes?” She inquired.

I blinked once, finding myself rather confused. “I mean, people three hundred years from now will likely find our own structure of words to be ancient–”

“I meant for yourself,” she interrupted with a good-natured smile.

“I don't know what I want to do in the future,” I admitted, “I haven't really planned that far.”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “I would have thought you would take subjects that aligned with an end goal.”

I felt sheepish as I admitted, “I took this and Arithmancy because I felt they would keep me entertained.”

“Entertained?” She parroted.

“I like studying hard,” I admitted, “I considered this and Arithmancy the most challenging.”

She hummed softly before asking, “Do you find Ancient Runes to be challenging enough?”

I hesitated for a moment before saying honestly, “I find the class to be rather predictable.”

“Yes, I was afraid of that,” she said with a sigh. “It's designed to give average students an advantage, but I suspect to someone as dedicated as you that this class seems boring.”

“It’s not boring,” I said, causing her to give me a challenging look. “Last year, all the Care for Magical Creatures students took care of Flobberworms and the like.”

The professor wrinkled her nose up a bit. “Yes, I heard about that.” She then thought about my words for a moment before asking, “Have you tried looking into hieroglyphs?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Talk to me once you catch up in your studies,” she said, causing me to solidify Ancient Runes as my number one priority. She then glanced toward the doorway as Hermione practically skipped into the classroom.

The Gryffindor paused as soon as she saw me before saying, “I didn't know you were awake yet.”

I bit back a sigh before looking back at her with a neutral expression. “I woke up about two hours ago.”

“That means you skipped lunch,” she said with a small frown.

“No, I was busy getting lectured about why I shouldn't have stayed outside past the point where I couldn't feel my hands,” I said curtly.

“Oh,” Hermione said before asking, “Why did you stay out that long?”

I raised an eyebrow at her.

She flushed before straightening up. “I mean, I know why you went out, but staying out that long could have had grave consequences.”

“I heard all about that from Madame Pomfrey, thank you,” I said dryly.

The girl blushed deeply before shuffling over and sitting down next to me. “Harry – he's really sorry about – well – you know.” She cringed at her own words.

I bit back a heavy sigh as the other students began filing into the room.

“Do you think the prophecy is even real?” Hermione asked, and I looked at her with a deeply furrowed brow.

“Elaborate,” I demanded as I motioned for her to continue.

“I mean, Divination isn't always exact,” she said, “Trelawney makes wild prophecies each year and almost none of them come true.”

“Whenever a genuine prophecy is spoken, it is recorded magically and put into a place in the Ministry called ‘The Hall of Prophecies.’ While I have yet to go see for myself the full prophecy, I do believe it exists there, especially considering Dumbledore himself knows about it,” I said honestly.

She bit her lip before a boy cleared his throat. Hermione looked over her shoulder with annoyance, and she asked in the sassiest voice I'd ever heard out of her, “May I help you?”

“You're in my seat,” Nott said.

“We don't have assigned seats,” Hermione retorted, “Therefore, first come, first serve.”

Ernest Macmillian, the most annoying Hufflepuff to ever exist, snorted loudly from where he sat.

Nott looked downright ready to murder the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff both.

Thankfully, the professor stepped in. “Why don't you sit next to Mr. Boot today?”

The Ravenclaw in question shot her a look of horror.

Nott begrudgingly nodded one before heading over to sit next to Hermione's usual benchmate.

I felt rather awkward the entire class, especially considering I was used to relative peace and quiet.

Instead of allowing me what I desired, Hermione did her best to try and help me catch up, which I absolutely did not need.

Nevertheless, I played nice and took diligent notes throughout the class period.

Just as everyone was dismissed, Hermione stood in my way and said more than asked, “You don't have a class after this, right?”

“How do you know that?” I asked as I barely hid away my growing unease.

“It doesn't matter,” she waved off dismissively, “How about we study together in the library? You know, to get you caught up.”

I hesitantly started, “Thank you for the offer, b–”

“Great!” She chirped, not letting me finish. “I have all my notes already in my bag. Let's go now and get a good spot while we can.”

“I don't think–”

“Why not just go with her, Potter?” Nott asked as he shot a vicious glare at me. “I'm sure you'd be more comfortable with those kinds anyway.”

Hermione gave a truly pitiful glare at Nott in retort for insinuating something about her.

I sighed heavily as I packed my bag. “I study alone, and no one is going to change that.” I then left the classroom behind, not at all interested in starting up even more trouble.

The library was quiet as usual, a true solace when compared to the rest of the noisy castle.

I barely bit back a sigh as I began working on the missing homework from Ancient Runes. I worked for all of five minutes before someone chose to sit next to me. I glanced toward my left, recognized Krum, and internally groaned. I then turned my head fully his way and asked, “May I help you?”

“I know what the second trial is,” he said as he looked at me intently.

“As do I,” I said.

Krum looked surprised. “But you've been asleep.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Mermaids are one of the only species that sound like that above water while speaking normally below it. That, and mermaids reside in the Black Lake. It wasn't hard to figure out.”

“Still, I would like to pay you back for helping me,” Krum said.

I waved it off dismissively. “I have no need to be paid back.”

“If it wasn't for your suggestion, I wouldn't have been first,” he objected as if he knew the future.

“Regardless of what you think, I believe that you still would have been first. Your headmaster is quite biased against everyone but you,” I stated.

Krum had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Now, if you really wish to make your talent up to me, you can take your little following and go to the other end of the library,” I said.

Krum looked over his shoulder, only to immediately look back at me with annoyance. “I do not like them.”

“Welcome to being a celebrity in front of teenagers,” I said as if giving my deepest condolences.

Krum gave a very heavy sigh before glancing at my work. “Ancient Runes again?”

“Indeed,” I approved as I turned my focus back to said Runes.

Krum was getting ready to say something else when one of his little fans came over and asked, “Would you sign my bag?”

I watched as Krum forced a more neutral look at her instead of his scowl. I then stepped in on his behalf and said, “He's a human being trying to enjoy the library, not an autographing monkey. Do you have no shame interrupting him here?”

The girl snapped back by saying, “Oh, please. You're just some kid that’s so shameful, not even your own brother likes you–”

Before I could threaten the fifth-year Ravenclaw, Krum stood up abruptly, causing his chair to fall over. “Don't you dare speak to my friend that way,” he growled as he loomed over her, “You really do lack shame. I won't be signing anything of yours.”

The girl, obviously not expecting that outcome, turned red in the face. With tears forming in her eyes, she quickly began to flee the library.

I blinked once or twice before reaching down and picking up Krum’s chair. I then turned back to my work while mumbling, “Sit down before the librarian comes.”

Krum sat down, though he still looked pissed off.

I gently nudged Krum and asked softly, “How does this look so far?”

Krum looked down at my paper with a furrowed brow. “It looks fine.”

Just then, Madam Pince rounded the corner, looking particularly upset.

I flagged her down before any of the fans could, and the woman, who accepted my presence only because I respected the library, came over. I whispered softly, “Could you tell those girls to leave? They keep trying to disrupt Krum and I from studying.”

After glancing at my papers, she turned her gaze to the girls and went over to them while brandishing her feather duster as a wand.

I held in a cackle as the woman chased the foolish fans from the library, much to their annoyance. I then looked at Krum with a sharp smile and said, “Consider this a safe space if you have the sense of mind to be quiet.”

Krum looked slightly down at me with genuine respect in his gaze. “I know that people here care about names, and therefore I shall ask if I could call you your name.”

“I have no problem with that,” I said, figuring that he'd call me ‘Potter.’

“Thank you, Colton,” he said as he basically beamed at me. “Call me Viktor.”

“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” he said, “We are friends.”

“Very well, Viktor,” I said coolly, “If that's what you want.”

Viktor looked like the human equivalent of a golden retriever with how he smiled. If he had a tail, it would have been wagging as fast as it could.

I barely held in a snort at my own thoughts before looking back at my homework. “Have you ever used Arithmancy to figure out Ancient Runes placement?”

“In Durmstrang, we do everything through trial and error,” Viktor said.

I looked at him in surprise. “They let you experiment over there?”

“Er – yes?” He replied with a furrowed brow.

“We aren't allowed to do that here,” I said with a pout as I looked back to my work.

He looked at me surprised before chuckling.

“What's so funny?” I huffed in annoyance.

“Nothing,” he said as his lips quirked up a bit more. He seemed genuinely amused more than anything, so I dropped it.

“In any case,” I said as I straightened up, “You've seen some of what Hogwarts has to offer. What is Durmstrang like?”

Viktor thought about it for a moment before saying, “It's a boarding school like this, but things are always cold there.”

“The weather is bad, hm?” I mused aloud as I began working on notes and the like.

“Well, yes, but the grounds are not so – so warm,” he said as he motioned around vaguely.

“Hogwarts isn't always warm, either,” I said honestly, “There are things that happen that aren't exactly proper, but we manage to get through it by the end of the school year.”

Viktor hummed in acknowledgement. “There is rarely any excitement in Durmstrang, especially when there is always so much work to do.”

“What kind of classes do you take?” I inquired.

He rattled off the basic classes, some advanced classes, and he finally said, “We also have Dark Arts, though I heard that Hogwarts has a different class on the subject.”

“We only have Defense Against the Dark Arts,” I explained, “It teaches us about various beasts and curses and how to best ward them off or counter their effects.”

“Dark Arts is mainly the same,” Viktor said, “But we actively practice against them, not just listen. As a result, we are better equipped to fight them, or so I heard.”

“You're probably right,” I agreed. “Last year, we had an excellent teacher that taught us about all sorts of beasts and how to best them, and he provided things like bogarts and the like to test our skills. I believe that professor was better than the others, even if he did like going easy on his students.”

“I heard Moody was an Auror once,” Viktor said. “Does he teach well?”

“He teaches efficiently,” I said, “His experience has hardened him, I believe. Regardless, he knows his material and how to best fight against things like other witches and wizards.”

“Why would you have to prepare for that if you're not going to be an Auror?” Viktor inquired.

I hesitated for a moment before looking at Viktor. “Things are getting unstable in this area, though the government pretends nothing is wrong.”

“With the sort of Minister you have, I'm not surprised,” he commented before seeming to catch himself. “I mean–”

I snorted once, and he shut up. “Believe me, I understand. I felt so embarrassed to learn that he was fooled by your Minister. I mean, he spent an entire day using crude gestures – not even sign language, but mere miming.” I sighed heavily. “Regardless, he's our Minister and what he says goes.”

Viktor smirked as he said, “It was a bit funny.”

“Oh, it was hilarious to watch,” I assured him, “Embarrassing, yes, but hilarious nonetheless.”

His smirk turned into more of a smile, and he seemed less drawn into himself.

I felt more comfortable in his presence, so I smiled softly in return. I watched the older teenager flush a bit before turning his gaze away. Finding the gesture odd, I looked at where he was looking at my paper. I softly tutted as I realized I had gotten a large blot of ink on my parchment. I quickly began to transfer my work to a different piece of parchment, as the first piece was officially ruined in my eyes.

“You are truly dedicated to your work,” Viktor commented as he began to look over my first piece of parchment. “You seem like you would have done well in Durmstrang.”

“I probably would have,” I agreed, “But Hogwarts really was the only option presented to my brother and I.”

Viktor purses his lips for a moment. “I read that article about you and your brother. He seems very…” At that, he hesitated before finally saying, “…sheltered.”

“Oh, he is,” I said honestly, “But he is the Boy-Who-Lived.”

“Are you not also the Boy-Who-Lived?” He asked, causing me to look at him in confusion. “You both survived. Why is he the only one with the title?”

“When we were rescued from the dilapidated building our family was hiding out in, Harry was noted as having a scar on his forehead,” I explained, “Thus, he became known as the one who survived the Killing Curse, hence the name the Boy-Who-Lived.”

The Durmstrang student frowned. “That scar could have been from anything.”

“It could have,” I agreed. “However, it's from the Dark Lord.”

“How do you know?” He pressed.

I contemplated my next words for a moment before saying, “I suppose I know because I have experience with him.”

Viktor looked confused, but he never got to press further.

“Krum!”

I barely held in a groan as I turned to see Karkaroff storming toward us.

“What have I told you about being with this boy?” The man snapped at his prize pupil, gesturing rather rudely toward me in the process.

Instead of acting meekly like before, Viktor surprised me by saying, “Colton’s not like you said he was.”

“He is merely a snake waiting for foolish prey,” Karkaroff objected at once, like I wasn't even there.

“But–”

“Enough,” Karkaroff interrupted, “You're already late for your studies. If you fall behind, you won't be able to achieve what you want to.”

He looked hesitant about leaving, so I said, “Well, I need to get back to my studies anyway.”

Viktor glanced at my work before wordlessly nodding. Begrudgingly, he stood up and walked after his headmaster toward the ship in the Black Lake.

I turned back to my notes and decided that it wouldn't necessarily hurt to pick his brain during meal times about different types of Runes. I worked for an hour or two before packing up my bag and heading down to dinner.

The Durmstrang students were all in their usual spots at the Slytherin table.

I knew I wasn't welcomed with my own house, so I meandered over to the Durmstrangs students and sat on the border between them and the Slytherins.

Viktor shocked me by switching seats with the student from Durmstrang originally next to me. “How did your studies go, Colton?”

“They went well, Viktor,” I said honestly, especially since it was quiet while he was gone, just as a library should be. “Thank you for asking.”

“That’s good,” he approved as Draco dropped his jaw at us.

“I don't think your headmaster will approve of you sitting next to me,” I pointed out.

“I do not care,” Viktor replied boldly, “He has been wrong about many things so far.”

I smiled just barely at him, only for said smile to drop when Crabbe dropped his damn silverware. I looked at him in annoyance, only to see the other Slytherins similarly gawking at us. “Do you mind?” I asked with a raised brow.

“You lost me twenty Galleons,” Davis whined pathetically.

I said with no sympathy whatsoever, “You should stop gambling. You're clearly no good at it.”

She gave me an offended look before saying, “You’re just weird.”

“Thank you,” I replied curtly before turning back to Viktor, who was not-so-subtly glaring at her.

He immediately looked at me while pretending that he wasn't glaring at my Housemate, and he was failing miserably at doing so.

“I can handle them myself,” I told the Durmstrang student.

“They say awful things about you behind your back,” he muttered as he glowered at them.

“I'm sure I've heard worse to my face,” I assured him.

Instead of becoming more docile, he instead turned stoic. “From them?”

“Them, other students, some staff members, the muggles I live with,” I rattled off with a dismissive flick of my wrist. “It doesn't bother me–”

“You're used to it,” he hissed angrily.

“Yes, but–”

“You shouldn't be,” he said rather boldly.

I barely held in a heavy sigh. “Viktor, I don't have the time nor patience to deal with everyone who talks badly about me.”

He seemed to be getting more upset. “Well, tell someone–”

“I can deal with it on my own,” I said.

“I can curse someone for you,” he offered.

I barely held in an amused snort. “And get yourself in international trouble?”

Angrily, he said, “You do nothing but help your brother, and you are accused of being some dark mark by your own House.”

“Viktor,” I said as gently as possible, “I appreciate that you are upset on my behalf, but I don't need to be coddled. The truth is that I am used to people talking about me in this manner. It's happened to me ever since I could remember, and no one will stop it, even after I'm gone from this world. You can't please everyone, and that's a fact that I've already accepted.”

The young man looked pained by my words, and he was struggling to come up with words to console me.

I didn't need those words, so I instead said, “Enjoy your dinner, and don't do anything to get you in trouble back in Bulgaria.” I then stood from my seat and left the Great Hall behind. I headed down to Snape's office and waited outside of the door until the man arrived, looking mildly annoyed.

Snape allowed me into his office and stepped inside behind me. As soon as he closed the door, he looked back at me with a long-suffering expression. “What did you say to Krum?”

I blinked once before hesitantly asking, “He didn't do anything stupid, did he?”

Snape stared down at me with arms folded over his chest. “If I have to ask, what do you think?”

“I think he acted like some Gryffindor,” I admitted with a heavy sigh. “I told him that I was used to the things people said about me behind my back.”

The man raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, looking incredibly close to developing a painful migraine.

“I also told him not to do anything that would get him in trouble,” I said quickly.

“Ah, yes. I believe that would work well on any Gryffindor,” he said as he gave me an exasperated look.

“I didn't think that Durmstrang had a Gryffindor House,” I said as if that'd save me from more points off and/or another detention. “I thought they were all supposed to turn out like Slytherins.”

“You thought wrong,” Snape pointed out before motioning to a bunch of dirtied cauldrons. “And you'll start tonight's detention by cleaning those.”

“Please tell me those aren't first year cauldrons,” I pleaded.

“That would make me a liar,” Snape said cruelly.

While holding in a heavy sigh, I got to work cleaning the disgusting cauldrons with nothing but a rag, soapy water, and elbow grease. I only hoped that I would get some other form of punishment for my other detentions…