A/N: I will not give away a lot of this story, but I will tell a few things. Harry is just a nickname for our main character. The name will symbolize something for Harry later on. Harry is not a Lord he is more of a landed gentleman. I am pretty sure this story will have a bit more clich├ęs in the future.


'Boy!' Vernon Dursley boomed, 'get in here.'

Ten year old Harry Potter wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He had been in the sun all day working and had just finished painting the fence. With a bit of trepidation Harry asked, 'Should I put the stuff away?'

Instead of answering Vernon looked around to see if anyone was watching. Satisfied that the pair were alone he grabbed his nephew by the back of his neck before throwing the small boy in a chair. The shaggy-haired boy willed himself not to say anything as he rubbed his bruised neck.

'Listen here boy,' Vernon began, 'Petunia and I are going on vacation.' Harry kept his eyes open with a great amount of effort for he dreaded the next statement. 'Dudley will be going to Marge, but she doesn't want anything to do with you,' he stated with complete understanding. 'And there is no one else able to take you.' Harry averted his eyes as to keep his uncle from seeing his anticipation. 'We will not be canceling our trip for you, therefore we have no other choice than to leave you here.'

Harry swallowed, 'Yes, sir.'

'We leave in two days, boy, and will be away for two weeks. Petunia, out of the goodness of her heart, will leave some food for you, but you better make it last,' Vernon boomed.

'Yes, sir.'

'You are not to read our mail,' Vernon said. 'Nor are you allowed to touch any of our things.'

'Yes, sir.'

'You are to clean this house and when we return it better be spotless.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Keep your...unnaturalness to yourself,' he hissed.

'Yes, sir.' Harry was once again grabbed by the neck, but this time he was too happy to even consider protesting. He would be alone for two weeks. He managed to stay upright as Vernon threw him back outside, but he did not care. He would be free for two weeks. For what might have been the first time in a decade, Harry Potter smiled happily.


'Something feels...weird,' Harry said to himself. This was the first time he had ever been in the house by himself, therefore he had never felt this...this odd sensation. He could not find the words to explain it to himself, but something was definitely off with his surroundings.

The green-eyed boy shrugged it off before continuing on his way. Harry munched on one of his cousin's snacks without a care. He knew he would pay for it later, but he was oh so very tired of starving. Petunia had of course left him food to eat, but the amount could not possibly last a week let alone two.

White socks flexed comfortably upon the recently cleaned coffee table and a hand attached itself firmly to a remote control. Harry would enjoy this while it lasted. The sun was setting as he finally indulged in something he had always wanted to do: watch the telly.

About twenty minutes later Harry was laughing at reruns of the Simpson's when he heard a tapping on the window. He winced after whipping his head around too quickly. Harry found himself ducking into the couch after being startled for a moment. Tap. Tap. Tap. Harry rose a bit from the couch to peer over it. He frowned as he saw a vicious looking, black owl tapping on the window. Licking his lips he gathered his courage and walked towards the window. Harry slowly lifted it to allow the avian in.

The bird landed on the coffee table before sticking out his talons, which had an envelope attached to it. Harry closed the window before making his way over to the bird.

'Err..hi there?'

Hoot!

After a bit of hesitation Harry sat back down on the sofa and reached for the missive. The envelope was a dark red with black lettering.

Mr. H. J. Potter

Living Room

4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

Harry swallowed harshly before examining his surroundings. It unnerved him that whomever the sender was knew his exact location. Satisfied he was the only human about, Harry turned back to the letter. Taking a deep, calming breath, he opened the missive.

Mr. H. J. Potter
Living Room
4 Privet Drive,
Little Whinging, Surrey

Headmaster: Igor Karkaroff

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is with great pleasure to invite you to attend Durmstrang Institute this fall. You will find a complete book list of the necessary items you will need throughout the year and, some, necessary for your entire education.

Term begins the 26th of August. Please send your acceptance as soon as possible.

Congratulations,
Astrid Bergfalk

No Stonewall? Harry thought with a little excitement. Maybe I can get away from the Dursleys as well. He shook his head refusing to get his hopes up. He turned his attention towards his book list and his face took on a look of dismay. A wand! This is a joke. He said with a bout of great sadness. He threw the parchment on the sofa and began to sulk.

Hoot!

The sound echoed in the quiet house causing Harry to flinch terribly. Turning his attention towards the black avian Harry asked himself aloud, 'Who has an owl?' It was ridiculous actually...or could it actually be a magician sending him a letter and inviting him to his school. He wrinkled his nose in contemplation...he could send a letter back just to give it a shot. What did he truly have to lose? They already knew his location. His exact location. If they truly wanted to harm him there was nothing to stop them.

He sighed before going to the cupboard and removing a sheet of lined paper from his knapsack. That caused Harry to pause...the invitation was written on parchment. Who does that?

Harry took out a pen and scribbled,

Durmstrang Institute

To Whom This May Concern,

Can someone explain this to me?

Harry Potter

He rolled it up and taped it shut before using the string from the acceptance letter to tie the missive around the owl. Harry then moved towards the window, but the owl took off through the fireplace.

Harry shrugged before going back to the telly. His mind could no longer take in what was going on, however. He shrugged then sighed before flipping through the channels once more.

Harry lay awake that night with heavy thoughts. He was sleeping on the squishy, comfortable couch as he had done the night before. Unlike last night, however, he could not go to sleep. His thoughts were on the letter from Durmstrang Institute...if there was such a thing. Magic! Harry thought. 'What if it's real?' Harry thought aloud. He threw his head back willing himself not to believe. Although, magic could explain a lot. It would explain why the Dursleys went out of the way to do everything normally. Abnormal, degradation, unnatural they had called him. He had believed it was because his father had been a drunken loser and his mother a whore, but...but maybe that wasn't true.

'Maybe they lied,' Harry spoke. He could not help the hope that escaped him. 'They've done it often enough.' Hadn't he found himself on his school roof in order to escape Dudley? Maybe that had been magic helping him escape. 'Maybe I did turn Mrs. Charles' hair blue. I'd felt embarrassed and wanted her to feel the same. Maybe that had been magic!" The more he thought on the subject the more excited he became. His thoughts, his excitement, his hope could not be stopped even when he tried to.


Harry was strolling from the library two days later. Just because he had stopped doing well in school did not mean he did not know the material. If he was honest with himself he thought he was rather smart. To him it took real talent to observe a person, estimate their grade average, and actually hit the mark he needed to.

As he walked he thought about making himself a sandwich to eat for lunch. His stomach rumbled as he turned towards the pathway that led to the door of number four. Harry came to a complete stop as he noticed someone standing on the porch.

The man before him, who looked about twenty-five, was rather large. His muscles bulged and, to Harry, he looked as if he held the record for the tallest man in history. The man had piercing blue eyes which gave him a once over before landing on his forehead. His pale, square face was framed by sleek, black hair. He wore black trousers with a red shirt. The symbol that had been on the school letter was emblazoned on his left breast.

The intimidating man walked towards Harry. With a heavy accent the man greeted the green-eyed boy, 'Good afternoon, Mr. Potter.'

Harry shook the offered hand with a bit of grimace. Strong man. 'Hello...who are you?'

The man gave him a small smirk, 'My name is Dimitry Ivanov and I am the Dueling instructor at Durmstrang Institute.'

'That's real,' Harry blurted out excitedly.

The large man frowned, 'Of course, it is real. The English must truly want all their residents at Hogwarts.'

'Hogwarts? What's Hogwarts?' Harry asked.

His companion's frown deepened, 'Are your guardian's home?'

Harry shifted, 'What happens if they are not?'

'I will wait,' the man said resolutely.

Harry sighed heavily, 'They won't be back for a while.'

'How long is a while?'

'Two weeks,' Harry said with closed eyes.

'What?! You are here by yourself?' The man grunted before sitting on the porch. He took care to observe his surroundings. 'Come sit, Mr. Potter.'

Harry sat next to the man. 'What do you know of magic?'

'Nothing,' Harry said in a small voice.

'Nothing? Nothing at all?' The man asked in shock.

'I didn't know it was real,' Harry explained.

'Magic is very real,' the man said with pride. 'Let us go inside. I promise not to hurt you.'

Harry stood before walking towards the door. He opened it for the large man who walked inside. Harry proceeded to lead Ivanova into the sitting room. 'Would you like something to drink?' Harry asked.

'No thank you, Mr. Potter.' The man took out a stick of wood and flicked it. Harry stood in awe as the coffee table rose into the air.

'Cool!' Harry said excitedly. 'Can you teach me that?'

The man looked at Harry with approval, 'Of course...that is if you come to Durmstrang.'

Harry's eyes danced as he said, 'Sure.'

'If only the others were this easy,' he heard Ivanov mutter.

'What is Durmstrang like?' Harry asked as he sat on the floor.

'It is a magnificent castle,' the man began in a prideful tone, 'located in the northern Sweden in Kiruna.' His eyes were closed as he continued his description, 'We enjoy the beautiful scenery the mountains provide us with. It is evening more stunning in the winter when sheets of snow cover the grounds.'

Harry smiled at the picture he imagined 'What will I learn?'

'Durmstrang teaches a variety of subjects that a large number of schools do not and that includes Hogwarts. For your main education you will learn Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Runes, Arithmancy, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, Transfiguration, and Combat Magic.'

'You said you teach dueling?' Harry asked in confusion.

'I teach combat magic as well as oversee the dueling club, but I do not teach it the same way as other professors.' After a pause Ivanov said, 'The school holds a dueling tournament as well as a quidditch tournament yearly.'

'Whats...'

'Quidditch is our sport and it is played on brooms. I am sure there is a book to explain it in depth.'

Harry squirmed a bit before saying, 'What if I have no way to pay for school?'

Blue eyes narrowed as they examined him. Ivanov's deep heavy accented voice said, 'Your family is old even by wizarding standards Mr. Potter. I am sure your parents left you something. All you would have to do is take a trip to Gringotts.'

'Would you know anything about my parents?' Harry asked.

The fury in his eyes belied his soft and reassuring voice, 'I do not know much about them except for their names, which were James and Lily. Do you know how they died?'

Harry shook his head saying, 'I don't think my relatives told me the truth...'

'And that would be?' Ivanov asked.

Harry shook his head again, 'Can you tell me how they died?'

Ivanov cleared his throat before saying, 'I am sorry to tell you this, but your parents were murdered by a dark lord.' Harry gaped at the strong man who continued, 'Voldemort is considered by most as the darkest lord in history. You must prepare yourself Mr. Potter as you are a very famous young man in our world.' Ivanov leaned forward to sweep Harry's fringe away so that the lightning-bolt shaped scar was visible. 'This has made you very famous. When Voldemort killed your parents he apparently tried to kill you as well. He failed,' Ivanov declared softly in his Russian accent. 'You are the only person to have been hit with a killing curse and survive. The boy-who-lived they call you.'

Harry swallowed harshly as everything sank in. 'Why did he come for me and my parents?'

'No one understands really as he usually sent one of his followers to do his handy work,' Ivanov explained.

'Is Voldemort dead?' Harry asked.

'No one knows, although many have reported that he is not,' Ivanov said gravely. 'A word of advice: be careful when you say Voldemort. Many people, especially those in Britain as well as those in neighboring countries, fear the name. I have met a fair few who have almost jumped from their skin.' Harry heard the amusement that bled through the Russian accent.

There was a pause before Harry asked, 'How do I get to Gringotts?'

'You will have to get to Diagon Alley...I believe it is in London somewhere. As you said you have no money I believe it would be best if I take you...' The large man looked at his watch, 'would now be alright?'

Harry nodded happily, 'Yes!'

'Grab onto my arm,' Ivanov instructed. 'Hold on as tight as you can...but first...' The man took out his wand before flicking it at Harry's face. 'Better!' Ivanov conjured a mirror for Harry to see his new appearance. He still has his dark brown hair, but it was straight. His scar had disappeared and his eyes were a darker shade of green.

'Where did my scar go?' Harry inquired.

'I placed a glamour over it. It is a charm to hide things upon your person,' Ivanova explained.

'What makes it a charm,' Harry asked.

'Hold onto to your questions for a moment. I need to remember what that pub looks like...' Ivanov's face scrunched up before nodding his head. 'Grab onto my arm,' he commanded. Harry firmly attached himself to the blue-eyed man as the both stood. Suddenly, Harry felt an intense squeezing sensation. It was as if he was being forced through an extremely narrow tube. He stumbled as his feet hit solid ground.

'Are you alright?' Ivanov asked concerned.

Rubbing his chest Harry asked, 'What was that?'

'Apparation. It is one of the many forms of magical transportation.' Ivanov looked around causing Harry to as well. The were in a crowded pub. Harry made sure to avoid contact with any and everyone.

Ivanov guided Harry towards the barman. 'Excuse me.'

The balding, toothless man looked at Ivanov with a bit of mistrust in his eyes. 'Yes?'

'How do I get into the alley?'

Harry kept himself from looking into anyone's eyes by studying the alcohol and their names.

'Three up and two across from the trash bin. Tap your wand on the brick, ya' see.' The barman explained.

'Thank you,' Ivanov said. 'Let's go.'

Harry followed Ivanov outside. 'Gringotts is a bank run by goblins. A word of advice...never trust a goblin,' Ivanov warned. 'They are the worst thieves and traitors.'

'Okay,' Harry said with fearful nod.

'Show them respect because they handle your money, but always be wary of them.'

Harry nodded as his eyes traveled everywhere. Everything looked so spectacular he could hardly contain himself. 'If goblins are real than are...'

'Werewolves, vampires, unicorns, fairies, leprechauns, all of those little creatures that the muggles call mythology are real.' Ivanov smiled vindictively, 'I believe a good number of muggles have died after an,' here he sneered, 'unfortunate run in with a giant or troll.'

'Do you not like...muggles?' Harry asked. 'Muggles are non-magical right?'

Ivanov frowned, 'I tolerate them as I have met a good few muggleborns in my life, but I am not overly fond of muggles.'

'Why?' Harry asked.

'Why should I like them when they would rather see me dead?' Harry's eyes showed his confusion. 'Have you heard of the witch hunts?'

Harry gasped, 'Those were real?' It amazed Harry how much muggles knew, but didn't believe.

'Yes,' Ivanov said.

Harry looked up to his companion's face. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to decipher the emotion upon it...was that glee? Harry shook his head, 'What would you call me?'

'Pardon?' He was asked.

'I am not a muggleborn...'

'You are a half-blood,' Ivanov explained as the continued down the alley. 'Here it is.'

Harry was impressed with the marble structure before him. 'Come.' Harry followed the curly-haired man up the steps. He grimaced a bit at the warning posted. He promised himself to never steal from the goblins.

As the pair walked their footsteps echoed in the relative silence of the bank. The boy and his companion walked to the large desk at the opposite end. 'Good afternoon,' Ivanov greeted neutrally. 'I am here to bring Mr. Potter to his vault.'

'Does Mr. Potter have his key?' The goblin asked as he peered down at the fidgeting Harry.

'No,' Ivanova said simply.

'Give me your hand, boy,' the goblin sneered nastily.

Ivanov noticed Harry's flinch, 'Mr. Potter,' he corrected. 'You will address him as Mr. Potter, Senior Goblin.'

The goblin continued to sneer, but made no objections. Harry tentatively held his hand out, which was grabbed harshly then cut hastily. 'Hey!' He complained.

Ivanov touched Harry's shoulders causing green eyes to meet powder blue. Harry saw amusement there, 'Relax, Mr. Potter. Hold out your hand for me.' Harry gave the tall man his hand. Ivanov flicked twice and Harry watched the wound heal.

'Thank you,' Harry said. Ivanov nodded in reply.

'Mr. Potter follow me,' goblin instructed. When Ivanova tried to follow the goblin said, 'Just Mr. Potter.'

Harry have Ivanov a frightened look. 'Sign nothing and make sure any blood taken from you is thoroughly destroyed,' Ivanova instructed softly into Harry's ear. 'Have someone you trust go over everything with you.'

Harry nodded his head, but said nothing. Harry followed the goblin resolved to the fact he would have to be alone for the time being. Harry promised himself to try and be confident. That was until he arrived in what looked like an office. The office was black and muddy green. What frightened him, however, were the weapons and skulls on the walls. There were axes, knives, daggers, and swords of all shapes and sizes. He swallowed nervously.

The goblin with him must have sensed his nervousness because smiled nastily, 'Good luck Mr. Potter.'

Harry waited for another fifteen minutes before he was joined by another goblin. 'Mr. Potter,' was the polite greeting.

'Er...Hello,' Harry said tentatively.

'Mr. Potter my name is Bloodaxe and I am your account manager.' There was a pause in which Harry did not know what to say. Then the goblin put a key in a draw before pulling out an emerald-green box. The cougar had its mouth open allowing Harry to see the hole in the middle of it. 'Put your finger in the hole Mr. Potter.' Harry raised his hand slowly before placing his right pointer finger in the cougar's mouth.

Everything happened quickly, but Harry still felt everything. To Harry it felt as if the cougar had bit his finger before licking it. However, when he pulled his finger back there was no wound. The box glowed for a moment before clicking open. Whatever had been in that box rushed towards Harry before he could do anything. He did not complain as it touched his person, however. To him it had been the best feeling in the world. He had felt at...at home.

'You are certainly Mr. Haryon James Potter,' the goblin interrupted his peace.

'What was that?' Harry questioned in a breathless but content tone. 'And who is Haryon?'

'Your family magic,' Bloodaxe said simply. 'I believe Haryon is the name your parents presented you with upon your birth.'

Harry blinked then blinked twice more, 'What!?'

The goblin sneered, 'I am not here to tell you about your name. Open the box Mr. Potter.'

Harry flipped the lid of the box. There were three sections: a large square section in the middle and two smaller sections on each side. The larger part contained several papers and folders, 'My financial statements?'

'Yes and your family's entire financial history.'

'What's this?' Harry asked as he lifted a smaller box.

'Your Head of House ring,' Bloodaxe explained. 'You cannot enter your family estate until you place that ring upon your finger.'

'Then these are the keys to my vaults?' Harry asked as he fingered the keys.

'Yes,' the goblin said. 'As of right now you can only enter your trust vault. Both keys have numbers on them. The smaller number is the one to your trust vault.'

'Are there other keys floating around?' Harry asked suddenly as he remembered the other goblin asking if he had his key.

The creature before him flashed him what might have been a smile, 'Yes, Mr. Potter, there are.'

'Can they be destroyed?' Harry asked.

'Only if you want them to,' the vicious creature said.

'Can anyone enter my vault without my consent?' Harry asked curiously.

In a cold, deadly voice the goblin answered, 'We do not condone thievery Mr. Potter.'

Harry swallowed, 'Alright, just asking.' After an awkward pause Harry asked, 'I can take all this with me?'

'Yes,' Bloodaxe answered.

'I would like to visit my trust vault...with Mr. Ivanov.'

Bloodaxe grumbled a bit before speaking clearly, 'Come Mr. Potter.'

Harry took the keys from the box before stuffing them in his pocket. He proceeded to relock the box. He scrambled after Bloodaxe who had already walked away from his office.

Harry managed to find his way back to the main lobby. He saw Ivanov sitting in a corner looking thoroughly uncomfortable in the small chair. 'Mr. Potter,' he greeted when Harry approached.

''lo...can you come with me to my vault?' Harry asked shyly. 'I...I don't know what I am doing,' he explained further.

Ivanov nodded his head as Harry went over to Bloodaxe, 'Mr. Potter, Griphook,' he pointed at another sour looking goblin, 'will take you to vault 687.'

The cart ride to his vault was what Harry expected a rollercoaster ride to be like: fast-paced and exhilarating. He looked to his human companion only to see Ivanova sporting a greenish hue. As the cart slowed Harry thought he heard Ivanova mutter, 'You will certainly enjoy flying.'

Ivanov directed Harry to his vault and directed him towards the keyhole. Another rush of magic attacked Harry, but he stood firm. The lock clicked open only for Harry to see three separate mountains of gold, silver, and bronze.

'All yours Mr. Potter.'

Harry looked up into blue eyes and smiled, 'All mine.'


'Well Mr. Potter,' Ivanov began, 'this is your chance to ask the many questions swirling around in your head.'

Harry paused in the eating of his ice cream. The pair was at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour in a secluded area. He pushed the ice cream filled spoon in his mouth as he searched for a question. 'Why did my parents oppose Voldemort?' Harry asked after swallowing.

'There was a war going on,' Ivanov explained. 'Your mother was a muggleborn and this war was against muggleborns.'

Harry tilted his head, 'Why?'

'The war against muggleborns is an on going war. It is a battle that has touched every field,' Ivanov explained. 'Some muggleborns have been accepting of us and our ways, but most have not. They come into our world and try to change how we live our lives and a lot do not like it. Some are more...enthusiastic than others.'

Harry folded his arms and sat back in his chair, 'Isn't change good? If a pureblood tried to change your ways would that be more acceptable?'

'That is not the problem,' Ivanov said. 'The problem is that the muggleborns wish to model our world to that of the muggle world. I have not spent much time in that world, but it is my understanding that even their every culture is different. I admit that the magical world could be more...progressive, but that is not the way to go.'

Harry furrowed his brow in contemplation. He did not know much about the magical world, so he could not judge how much of a change this world was in need of. But if they were...backwards as Ivanov suggested than maybe the muggleborns had a point. 'What do the muggleborns want to change?' Harry asked.

'The number one problem muggleborns have with us are the Old ways,' Ivanov said. 'The Old ways are what could be considered our religion. The muggles have documented our world as mythology. What the muggles call mythical gods and goddesses we actually believe in.'

'Ahh,' Harry said in understanding. Harry had read several books on mythology. Greek and Norse Mythology were particular favorites of his. He wasn't a particularly religious person. Petunia saw to that. She rarely took him to church and oft-times dubbed him as the anti-Christ. One Sunday when he had asked why he wasn't allowed in the church she answered, "Because your head will start spinning and you will throw up the wine." 'Muggles have one god and that god is so very different from the ones the magicals believe in,' Harry answered.

'Precisely, Mr. Potter.'

Harry suddenly snorted as he ate a spoon of his coconut milk ice cream. His guffaw was so hard that he started to draw attention from their neighbors. Harry calmed at met questioning blue eyes, 'It wasn't as funny as it was...ridiculous.' He shrugged, 'I was just thinking about how the magical world is having a war that centers on religion when the muggle world is constantly suffering from the same.'

Ivanov raised an eyebrow, 'The muggle world has wars on religion?'

'There are several religions and sub-religions I think every group has had at least one fight with another.' There was silence until Harry broke it with, 'So my parents fought against Voldemort because they opposed...what?'

'They opposed the killing of magicals and muggles alike and I cannot agree more,' Ivanov said.

'You were happy that some muggles died by trolls and giants,' Harry pointed out.

'I said I tolerate muggles, but if some where to die by the very things they wish to kill then so be it. If you seek or antagonize something that you know has a huge advantage over you than you deserve whatever you get,' Ivanov said without shame. 'If you foolishly go search for a beast and get mauled than it is no less than you deserve. I have a problem with killing innocent people and raping women and children just for the sake of it. I feel I am explaining myself incorrectly,' Ivanov said with a sigh. 'Our world is and should stay entirely separate from our muggle counterparts. We should only interact on a governmental basis...and maybe with muggle healers. What Voldemort and his Death Eaters did was more of a danger to our secrecy than the entire muggleborn population.

'I am not entirely sure, but I believe Voldemort wanted to dominate the muggles. Again I have limited knowledge on the muggle world, but I believe their population far outstrips our own. My father lived during the times of the second World War. While he only tolerated muggles he had an enormous amount of respect for their weaponry. He did not believe we could ever defeat them.'

Harry said nothing, but to him magic meant anything could happen. If some dangerous mind put it to work...

Suddenly Ivanov gave a weary sigh. 'I have to tell you something, Mr. Potter.' Harry tilted his head in question. 'Durmstrang is a school that promotes Dark Arts. It also denies entrance to muggleborns.'

'Why?' Harry asked.

'For the reasons I just gave. There was a violent incident several years ago with a muggleborn student and a pureblood. Muggleborns protested the school and ever since then they have been denied entrance.'

'What other schools are available to me?' Harry questioned.

'Hogwarts is in Scotland, Dagda in Ireland, Calico, Salem and Northeastern in the States, Victoraie in Australia, Palmoca in Brazil, Beuxbatons in France, I cannot remember all of them, but those are some. Not to mention the schools that focus on masteries or a particular career.' Ivanov continued, 'I hope to see you at Durmstrang Mr. Potter. You are a curious child.'

Harry blushed a bit, 'Are the dark arts bad?'

'There are some aspects that are terrible, but overall magic is magic. It is how you use magic that determines what type of person you are. Some countries have decided that some parts of magic is unacceptable. Blood magic, necromancy, rituals, are all things that have been deemed bad. Yes, a few dark lords have used those things, but each one of them had to get started somewhere. Usually it is with wingardium leviosa.'

'What?' Harry asked.

'The levitating charm,' Ivanov explained.

'Can you explain a bit more about Durmstrang's education...how will it go? Will I have major tests like we have in the muggle world?'

'As I said you will learn about magical creatures, the history of magic, Runes, Arithmancy, Divination, Herbology, Astronomy, Potions, Charms, Combat Magic, and Transfiguration. Those last three subjects I named plus runes are the only subjects you need a wand in. A wand can be used to make things easier in subjects like Potions, Herbology, Magical Creatures, and Arithmancy, but it is not essential to your learning.'

'There are also electives in blood magic, necromancy, and soul magic. As Durmstrang often hosts many heirs and heiresses from around the world we also have estate management and international law classes.'

'As for testing there are two major exams: the OWLs and the NEWTs the grades are Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations, Acceptable, Poor, Dreadful, and Troll. Every paper and every exam you receive at Durmstrang will be graded in the same way. In order to continue on with your N.E you must achieve at least an EE on your O. exams. You may also drop whatever classes you want after your OWLs. Unless they revolve around a particular career.'

'What are some careers?' Harry asked.

'You are an heir and I believe you will most likely be knee-deep in politics, but I can name some for you. Professional duelists, pro quidditch players, Ministry Officials, professors, you can obtain a mastery in whatever subject you want and research in that particular field. You can be an enchanter, a healer, a spell-crafter, a warder, or a curse-breaker. You will find out more throughout your school career. You will also have midterm evaluations with whomever your mentor is. Everything from your grades to what careers you may like will be discussed during those times.'

'What do you mean I will be knee-deep in politics?' Harry asked with a tilt of his head.

'Read all of those documents when you get home. I am sure a lot is explained. I believe you should also acquaint yourself with a muggleborn pamphlet or something. We can check the bookstore over there when we are finished.'

Harry was quiet as he finished his now soupy ice cream. Meeting Ivanov's eyes Harry asked, 'What can Durmstrang offer me that no other school in Eurasia can offer me?' He did not want to leave this general area if he could help it.

'A well rounded magical education,' Ivanov answered immediately. 'We do not limit ourselves to what is light and what is dark. We have no specific area to concentrate on. For centuries our students have been hailed for their dueling skills. We are ranked in the top five for all wand subjects as well in runes and potions. We rank number one for the Defense OWL. We are also in the top ten in Arithmancy, Astronomy, and Herbology.'

Harry nodded his head before asking, 'Is English the primary language?'

Ivanov nodded his head, 'We have students not only from the Scandinavian parts but also many other countries in Eurasia. Do you speak another language?, Mr. Potter'

'German,' Harry admitted.

'Who taught you?' Ivanov asked.

'A primary school teacher of mine,' Harry said.

Ivanov looked towards the sky with a frown. The sun was setting and it was getting late. 'I believe we should get going Mr. Potter.'

'Alright.'

As the pair stood Harry asked, 'Do I have to send a letter of acceptance or can I just give you my answer?'


Harry leafed through the books he acquired from the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts, that evening as he lounged on the Dursley's couch. They would be studied more in-depth later. Right now, however, he just wanted to have a good understanding as to what was going on.

According to the History of Magical Britain text the Potter line was an old family by magical history standards. Throughout history the family had married into several families that were as old or almost as old as them. The most significant being a family called Peverell. Only a daughter had remained of that family allowing the Potter to swoop in and make her fortune their fortune.

He understood Ivanov's statement about being knee-deep in politics. The Potters had a seat on something called the Wizengamot.

After going through his financial statements he was assured in the fact that he was quite wealthy. The Potter finances had taken a bit of a hit in the last decade, but he would not cry over it. He planned to work hard and do his family proud. The papers also confirmed his name. He wondered who changed it to Harry and if he could actually get people to call him Haryon.

Harry had also skimmed through the Muggleborn Introductory. He found that once he obtained a wand he would be able to travel by something called a Knightbus, but that would have to wait. Until then he would have to use the pounds he exchanged galleons for.

Green eyes found the box that contained his ring. He had yet to open it and look at it as he did not know what the ring would do. He shook his head before climbing into the couch and pulling a comforter over himself. He fell asleep content with the knowledge that he would soon live an all around better life.


'Enter,' a voice bid from behind the mahogany door.

Dimitry Ivanov walked into the room, 'Karkaroff.'

'Ivanova,' the Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute greeted in a bored tone, 'what can I do for you?'

'Harry Potter,' Ivanov said and that was all that was needed to get the other man's undivided attention.

Karkaroff waved for Ivanov to sit in one of the leather chairs. Ivanov situated himself before looking at his superior from across the sleek mahogany desk. 'I went to visit Harry Potter today.'

'Harry Potter is coming here?' Karkaroff asked trying to mask his excitement.

'Yes, I have just put him down, but that is not why I am here.' Ivanov paused just to irritate the man before him.

'Yes?' Karkaroff said impatiently.

'Potter is completely muggle raised,' Ivanov said with his distinct Russian accent. Karkaroff's eyes widened in anticipation, but said nothing. 'I am also under the impression that his guardians are unfit.'

The goateed face leaned forward, 'What makes you say that?'

'His clothing was too large for his body and he had know idea of who he was.' Ivanov did not completely trust Karkaroff and refused to tell the other man the boy was alone in an empty house. 'As you know the English families better than I...'

'The Blacks are the most immediate family he has,' Karkaroff said immediately. He began to tick off names with his fingers, 'I also believe he is related through marriage to the Malfoys, the Longbottoms, the Prewetts, the Weasleys, and the Crouches.' Karkaroff sneered at the last name before continuing, 'Crouch, the Prewetts, the Weasleys, and the Longbottoms will pull the boy from the school immediately and the Malfoys will probably kill him on sight,' he said. 'Your best bet are the Blacks. I believe old Arcturus Black is still alive.'


A/N Harry will date a few girls, some good and some bad. I will not give away the last pairing, however. Read and review :D