The Serpent of Durmstrang

A/N: This is a rewrite of the Dragon of Durmstrang, where mistakes were made and are going to be corrected, while the story and writing will be improved. This is also my NaNoWriMo prep story, so all reviews are appreciated.

Chapter One

The winds billowed against the slight-framed, bespectacled young man as he stared into the open sea. The crisp early morning breeze kissed Harry's cheek, and caressed his body, leaving him with a rosy-tinged. His eyes closed, the last Potter could only breathe in and take the onslaught, calming himself in the process.

This was his last year at Durmstrang, his final year until he starts paving his way into the Wizarding world. At a young age, his godfather, Sirius Black, had constantly reminded him of the burdens his lightning-shaped scar carried in the world. Where his very name was spoken in admiration by most, and cursed by few. It was the reason why he was taken away by Sirius in the first place, leaving behind Magical Britain in the hopes of a normal childhood far away.

In the end, Sirius Black landed himself in Switzerland, and used a modest apartment owned by the Blacks as their home away from home. Looking back, Harry could not blame Sirius' actions, and while they had let Peter Pettigrew escape, Harry knew that his godfather and honourary uncle Remus will not rest until they have skewered the rat for his betrayal. For now, Sirius and Remus were focused on grooming Harry to be the next Potter of Potters, and to take his inheritance back in Britain.

This summer was supposed to be his crash course into the ins-and-outs of Wizarding Britain, and what it meant to take his place as Lord Potter. Sirius had been very adamant about teaching him the common courtesies of the social elite. Once heir, now Lord Black himself, these lessons were drilled into Sirius the moment he was born, and made him the most suitable to tutor him in that regard. Remus, however, tackled Harry's continuing education, mostly dueling and transfiguration. Both men were committed to Harry's well-being, and he was eternally grateful for them.

The sound of incoming footsteps shook Harry from his reverie. He could hear a slight shuffle, and quickly, on instinct, spun around and flicked his wand to create a Protego shield. Just in time as a huge fountain of water splashed against the hastily erected shield.

"Good, your reflexes are getting better."

"All thanks to you, Remus," Harry smiled, tucking his wand back into this wrist holster.

Remus shook his head, before taking a few steps and joining Harry on the balcony. Their current safehouse was located somewhere in the coast of Italian Peninsula, and was heavily warded, owing to the paranoia of the Blacks. It became a refuge every summer once Harry started his Durmstrang education, and was perfect for the dueling and other spell training he underwent during the holidays.

Turning towards Harry, Remus couldn't help himself but smile proudly. James and Lily's son had grown to be a good man, and a very talented wizard. He himself was very impressed by the progress Harry had made once he started learning about magic, with Transfiguration as his most endeared subject. Following in James' footsteps, Harry was unnaturally talented in the art of Transfiguration, and facilitated in his Animagus training very well during his fifth year at Durmstrang. However, his studious nature could only be attributed to his mother, Lily Potter.

A long silence ensued, and was broken by Harry rubbing his scar with a wince.

Remus' face turned dark, "The nightmares again?"

Nodding, Harry sighed, "Yeah. They're becoming more vivid, and-"

"Harry, please tell me you've been practicing Occlumency? You know it's the only way we can stop these visions from visiting you every night."

"I have tried, and I have erected mental barriers every single night. But sometimes…"

Remus saw the hesitation, and urged, "We need to know what's happening, Harry, so we can better protect you."

Harry sighed, shaking his head as if clearing some mental cobwebs, before starting, "Sometimes, the dreams, visions, or whatever it is, just punches through my shields. Like paper. I can't do anything about it at all, no matter how much I build my defences," taking a deep breath, Harry continued, "It scary, Remus."

The werewolf's eyebrows knit together after that spiel. There was nothing in his research about memory and dreams that could do what Harry is describing. Occlumency was supposed to block out even the worst of the worst, as long as the shield is strong, and Harry was no slouch. Yet, it seems as though these dreams are slicing through Harry's most powerful mental shield, something that neither Sirius nor Remus can do with their Legilimency at this stage of Harry's training.

The other option that Remus, Sirius and Harry could do was to reach out to Albus Dumbledore. The old man had been a prime mover, at least in the early years of Harry's life, in trying to get the boy-who-lived back into the arms of Magical Britain. But as the years passed, Dumbledore had been increasingly silent, as though giving up on the prospect. The old man was a treasure trove of knowledge, however, and could be a valuable ally.

"We might need to consult another person for this case, Harry," a voice started from behind the two.

Harry smiled slightly as he glanced behind him, "Sirius, good to see you're finally awake."

"Well, I was in the arms of two very vivacious Italian witches last night, so you can't blame this old dog for sleeping in."

"Oh? And are they still in your bed?" Harry asked, shaking his head at the antics of his self-proclaimed dog-father.

"As we speak. I made sure to put a silencing spell, of course."

Remus nodded, then turned towards Sirius, his eyes hardening, "Do you think we should-"

Sirius held up his hand, "Go to Albus? That's probably the best option we have now. And with everything going on...it can't be a coincidence, can it?"

"It never is," Remus sighed, "So, when should we do it?"

Harry watched the back-and-forth of the two best friends, and decided to interject, "You know, with the Tri-Wizard Tournament on the horizon, I'll be at Hogwarts come October anyways."

"It all seems so...no matter," Sirius scratched his stubble, as he glanced at Remus, "I suppose you should send a letter and arrange a meeting with Harry and Albus once he arrives at Hogwarts."

Remus nodded, "Right, but that's for later. Aren't we supposed to be getting ready for the international portkey to your best friend's game, Harry?"

"Why, yes. And as you both can see, I'm all dressed-up and ready!" Harry exclaimed, showing the pair that he was indeed already in dress-robes, with a red and gold trim.

"Fuck! How long do we have?!" Sirius exclaimed, already half-way to his bedroom.

Remus chuckled, also heading back into his room, "Ten minutes. The portkey is on the dining table, so you better hurry."

"Shit!"

Harry laughed, and only shook his head at the two. He continued watching the sunrise, already imagining what his year would bring. It won't be a regular one in Durmstrang, and a part of him was glad. He had always wanted to see Hogwarts, where both his parents went to. A part of him wished he had attended Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang, and another part was happy he didn't. From what Sirius and Remus had described, Hogwarts seemed to not advocate for further studies in magic, sticking to strict curriculum every year tailored for the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s.

With a last mental wave of goodbye to the sunrise, Harry made his way back to the dining area, which was sparsely decorated for a Black-owned house. Sirius made sure to destroy any evidence of his dark-leaning family, and remodel it into one that resembled a regular, if not middle-to-high class, dining room.

In the middle of the rich-mahogany dining table was a dog's chew toy. Harry had to chuckle at the item, and was sure that the person who issued the portkey was mostly likely a woman whom Sirius had scorned. Even in Italy, Sirius Black was notorious for his escapades with the fairer sex.

Remus soon followed Harry, and lastly Sirius who seemed to still be half-asleep, but well-dressed.

"What did you do to the women?" Harry had to ask, dreading the answer.

"I left them a note, and cast a compulsion charm for them to immediately leave once they wake up."

Remus shook his head, while Harry only prayed that the women were not did not hold a grudge. There was no fear for a robbery, or any other criminal behaviour from the women simply because the Black's ward prevented any such behaviour. By prevent, the Black's meant punish severely.

"Take hold!"

Harry quickly responded, and placed a hand over one end of the chew toy. And with a whoosh, they were whisked away, and deposited just as instantly as they disappeared onto a green pasture.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry turned towards a man dressed in what seemed to be a bonnet made in the nineteenth century for women, and a garish-pink nightgown. It took every for Harry not to laugh at the stumbling man, while Remus kept a straight-face with a slight upturned lip, and Sirius just full-blown laughing.

The man huffed as he finally arrived to meet the three, huffing three times to catch his breath, before asking, "Italian portkey, I'm assuming?"

Sirius nodded, as Remus showed their identification to the man. His eyes barely glanced at Remus' identification papers, but immediately took a step back when he saw Sirius', and eyes-bulging when he finally came upon Harry's.

"Harry Potter? The one with the-" the man pointed to his forehead, and traced a lightning bolt.

"Yes, Harry Potter. Now, are you done gawking, sir, or are you going to hold us up for a few hours longer?" Sirius replied snidely, already not liking this Ministry official.

The man stuttered, "Uhm, sorry, Lord Black." Giving back the papers to Remus, he quickly pointed towards the hilltop, "Just yonder, milord."

Giving a quick nod, the three took a quick gait towards the crest of the hill. It only took a few seconds, but the view held them up a bit longer.

Just across from the small hill was a seemingly endless valley filled with different kinds of tents. From tall, to short, to very stout, and tower-like structures, the tents dominated the view, and was only overshadowed by the massive Quidditch pitch that stood in the middle of everything.

It was just barely after dawn, yet throngs of people seemed to already be up and milling about. The smell of breakfast wafted through the air, and the noise only barely hinted at the moment. Harry was sure it would be much louder as the day progressed.

Sirius smirked, and quickly bounded off, shouting back, "I'll meet you two at the pitch later! I've got some business with…"

Harry did not hear the end of the sentence, as Sirius seemed to already be past the first few rows of tents. Remus sighed, and turned to face Harry, "I'll make sure he doesn't get into trouble. You go ahead and see if you can find any of your schoolmates. We'll meet you at the entrance of the pitch an hour before the game starts."

Harry nodded, and watched as Remus jogged to try and catch-up to Sirius. Chuckling to himself, Harry took his leave and started towards the tents as well. He was sure that some of his friends were here, if their bragging about watching the game was an indication. He himself got three tickets from Viktor, with an oath that he will watch his best friend's most important game in his professional career.

From what he could see earlier, the camp was divided into two sections. Irish supporters, and Bulgarian supporters. Quickly, he made sure not to show anyone on this side of the camp the Krum badge that was pinned to his chest, and tried his best to cross into the Bulgarian-friendly side.

However, before he could take a quick shortcut in between two tents, he was stopped by a gaggle of redheads chattering quite loudly about one of theirs' love for Krum. Harry shook his head at the silliness of what seemed to be twins, and quickly sidestepped the group to continue his trek.

Dodging a few more early-risers, Harry finally arrived at the area where the tents seemed to be saturated with the Bulgarian colours. Smiling at a little kid who seemed to be riding his first broom, with her mother keeping a close eye, he started looking around for any sign of his friends.

Rounding a corner, he was still preoccupied looking around for his friends that he didn't see another person rounding the corner, and was immediately knocked to the ground, with an added weight on top of him.

"Damn, that hurt," Harry groaned, before opening his eyes and gazing into the most vivid cerulean-blue eyes.

He snapped himself out of staring, and realized just how compromised their position was. She, he was sure because of the full mounds resting on his own chest, ended up straddling him. And it seems that in the collision, he had held onto her hips for grip. His face immediately turned a reddish-tinge, before he was assaulted by a strong presence. His face laxed, as he finally stared at the girl's face. She was by-far the most beautiful girl he had laid eyes on. With her already mystical eyes, her long blonde hair that fell down her shoulders and tickling his cheek slightly, the heart-shaped face, and the most enticing pink-tinged lips, he was drawn into her visage.

So drawn that his Occlumency shields immediately acted up. Quickly realizing what was happening, Harry slammed down his Occlumency shield, immediately ending the allure of the Veela that was on top of him.

The Veela, he assumed quickly from the strong allure he had experienced, was blushing hard as well, before sputtering, "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking, and my allure just-"

"No worries. We were both not looking, and I was caught unaware by your allure. My Occlumency shield should be enough to stop it from affecting me," Harry smiled slightly, trying to calm the apologetic girl.

"You speak French?" The girl seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yes, it's a required language for Durmstrang, since we cater to more than a handful of French nationals."

"Oh! I mistook you for an Englishman."

"I am English by birth, but I was raised abroad," Harry replied, but suddenly realized their current predicament, "Uhm, we might need to get up…"

The girl turned even more crimson, before quickly getting up and dusting herself. Harry immediately missed the warmth their bodies shared, but squashed the feeling down as he got up as well. Giving himself a little dust-off, Harry turned towards the girl once more and held his hand out for a handshake, "Harry Potter, Harry to my friends."

The girl smiled, and took his hand, "Fleur Delacour, Fleur to my friends."

They both chuckled at that, before the girl yelped, "Oh no! I need to go back to my tent. I left my family for an early stroll, and they will be worried if I don't arrive back in time!"

Fleur quickly rounded and was about to leave, before turning back slightly and smiling brightly at Harry, "I hope to see you around, Harry."

"I'll see you around, Fleur."

And with that, Fleur quickly bounded towards the general direction of her tent, while Harry watched her with a small smile on his face. He was knocked out of his reverie by a poke on his back. Turning around, he couldn't hold his smirk as he saw a very disheveled Aleksander, who was never a morning person, yawning loudly at him.

"I was looking all over for your tent," Harry started, waiting for the Petrov heir to finish his long yawn.

Aleksander looked at Harry, before smirking slightly, "I saw that. You and that Veela. Wait until everyone hears about it!"

Harry shook his head, "As if anyone would believe you."

"Oh yes they would! We were wondering if you were gay or something after you declined Romanova asking you out!"

"You know, if you all like her ass that much, why don't you guys just ask her out?"

"What?!" Aleksander exclaimed, shaking head, "Not on your life, Potter. She would skin us alive...although I'm sure some of us would enjoy even that…"

"Fucking perverts," Harry sighed, following Aleksander as he slowly trudged towards the direction of his tent.

Aleksander led Harry towards a tower-like structure, but stopped him just as he was about to cross the small knee-height gate, "Seriously, Harry. Romanova is inside, and I don't want any funny business. She still isn't happy with you, you know."

Harry shook his head, "Fine, but she better behave. I still don't know why she took it so hard. I have told her since third year that I'm not interested!"

"She was hoping. Praying, really. She was in love with you, Harry. Everyone could see it. And you know what? I think she still is," Aleksander started, before holding his hand up to stop Harry from interrupting him, "But frankly, you also need to stop being so fucking nice! Everyone is so head over heels that good boy facade you have...it's making it hard for the rest of us guys to compete!"

Harry chuckled, before patting his friend on the shoulder, "There there, start with saying please and thank you. Little steps, you know?"

"Fuck you, Potter!"

"Fuck you too, Petrov!"

Both wizards shared a laugh, before heading into the tent. Harry had to steel himself, the last time he saw Kassandra Romanova was when she had tried asking Harry out, and subsequently his rejection to the invitation. She had not been happy, and he had to be careful on what he says in front of the girl.

As they both stepped into the tent, Aleksander immediately shouted, "Guess who I found with a Veela this morning? Harry fucking Potter!"

"Fuck."