Summary:
Previously. . . We meet Nikolai Markov, son of Nadia Markov and the boy who could have been Harry's brother.
CHAPTER 7:
Do not hesitate when striking your foe. Those were his mother's words when she taught him how to use a sword. Nadia had been rather eccentric when it came to swordsmanship, strict yet kind when she taught him. He could easily hold a sword, parry and thrust when he dueled with her. He was her pride and joy. Her prodigious son who could master anything in a few months.
Orpheus was a Mama's boy if anyone would have to say anything. He would do anything for his mother. Nadia had told him to win the Triwizard tournament and he won — bringing a trophy and glory back home to her. His greed within this life was different. He wanted to hold the world in his hands and present it to his mother, kneel before her like a believer to a god. If he couldn't have the world he would bring it down until they all knelt for his mother.
He didn't know where his obsession came from, perhaps it was because he had Black blood running through his veins. The madness of such a family already stained his soul from his life as Arcturus Black— it strengthened upon waking as Orpheus. He blamed the madness for the odd kind of greed he felt to make his mother a saint, a god.
Had Nadia given him a sibling he would have been exactly the same as Arcturus. A boy who would do anything for them. Be it gold, diamonds, or even blood and tears, he would have done anything for those siblings his mother had given him. But he was an only child and never needed to split his attention, neither did he have to share his mother. He had been possessive, paranoid of anyone who would even think of taking her from him.
He awoke in his thirteenth life and then he was sat on the top box of the stadium. As flashes of red and green blurred through the air, Harry was more focused on how Nikolai was squirming in his seat, trying his best not to scream out Krum's name in support.
Nikolai Markov, the boy who could have been his little brother.
Had you been born, he thought as he glanced over to Nikolai and Nadia, I wouldn't have allowed myself to die and simply watched as Britain was brought to the ground. He would have been true to his words. He wouldn't have cared if Britain was dragged down by the dark lord. He'd have grabbed his other self, Sirius, and perhaps Remus and fled to Russia. They would have been safe and Britain would be ruled by a tyrant.
In this life, Nikolai was nothing but a stranger. Well, that was it at the moment. Harry wouldn't sit still and do nothing. He was still greedy and selfish. He wanted the boy who could have been his brother in his life. To compensate for stalling his birth in his sixth life and spoil him rotten till Nikolai could rely on him with everything.
"Harry!" Hermione slapped his arm. He blinked out of his stupor before turning towards Ron who was moving towards the glass. Hermione was distressed, turning to Harry with concern.
Veela , he thought before turning to grab Ron and Fred. Their older brothers had more restraint and George was a mystery as he helped Harry drag his brothers back to their seats. Strange… he wasn't too affected by the Veela last time, either.
Hermione quickly had Ron sit, while Ginny and George were making sure that Fred wouldn't get back up again. The two girls were already berating the enchanted Fred and Ron. Ginny was twitchy, pursing her lips as she stared at the Veela and clenching her fists at the sight of them. Harry was more confused as to why George wasn't affected by the Veela— They were all female… Harry thought as he finally realized.
Perhaps his marriage to Angelina was more of obligation than love. How devious.
"Snap out of it." Harry snapped as he slapped Ron across the face. Many cringed as they heard the sound. Ron blinked out of his stupor, before whining of the searing pain across his cheek. Harry only rolled his eyes and sat back on his seat, right beside Hermione's. "Damn Veela."
"Veela… What exactly is Veela?"
"Half human and nymph-like creatures. They're like sirens on land but have more humanity. There have been cases where Veela marry humans, although I don't know if they've married muggles before." Harry explained, eyes still on the Veela that were dancing around. He glanced towards Nikolai who looked unaffected but fascinated by the Veela.
Another one… he thought as he glanced towards Hermione who was patting Ron's reddened cheek.
"Are there male veelas?" Hermione asked as she peered down at the Veela.
Harry hummed, "Yes but the female Veela are much more common than male veelas."
He'd encountered many Veela in his different lives but male veelas were rather uncommon compared to females. He wasn't too fond of Veela. The last time he had encountered one, he—the Veela tried to seduce him. Harry had felt revolted when Veela placed a hand on him.
Thankfully, Veela were more commonly seen in France. Unfortunately for him, he had been of French descent in three lives, two of which caused him to visit France on numerous occasions regarding his family. But he hadn't complained much. He was one of the fee that had the luxury of staying hidden during such occasions while others his age had been forced to smile like the perfect heirs they were.
Hermione didn't question why he was unaffected. She had seen how some men in the top box hadn't moved from their seats and simply assumed some were immune to the enchantments and allure of the Veela. She didn't need to know that Harry had built off his mental walls to the point that creatures like Veela couldn't affect him in the slightest. They were strong. They were a fortified wall that went around his mind like China's great wall. He had trained for decades to perfect the mind arts to the point he could manipulate his own emotions and simply turn off his feelings.
The excitement he felt had been immediately dimmed the moment he noticed it. He couldn't risk intense emotions at the moment. He could pretend. Smile and laugh along, no matter how fake it was, it did the job right. No one noticed it.
"Ron! Look!" Ginny nudged Ron and pointed to Bulgaria's prodigy seeker.
Viktor Krum was shooting down to the ground as Ireland's seeker followed him. Harry already knew what would happen. Ireland's seeker slammed to the ground while Krum swiftly maneuvered his broom to change its trajectory. Harry would admit that Krum was better than his original self when performing the wronski feint. He had been lucky and running on adrenaline when he did it the first time.
The crowd roared as Lynch, Ireland's seeker, slammed to the ground and began to groan. A timeout started as mediwizards ran to the field and ushered him to the side. His face was flattened as people supporting Ireland screamed and yelled at Krum for his feint. Begrudgingly, many of said Ireland fans were nodding in amazement.
"He was kinda handsome. Shame." Ginny commented as Hermione giggled beside her. "D'you think Krum will get a penalty for his feint?"
"No. It's an official and well known tactic in quidditch. Ireland might get a penalty if they attempt some kind of revenge." Charlie explained as Lynch got back up to his feet and launched himself and his broom back into the sky. Charlie was a seeker, one of Gryffindor's best along with Harry.
Harry's emerald gaze turned towards the quidditch players soaring through the sky. They flew in a fluid motion that made them seem like blurs. He lazily gazed through the Omnioculars that he had bought with Hermione and Ron when picking out some merchandise. He spun the speed dial to make things slower, observing the players movements. Levski—one of Bulgaria's chasers, had swiftly dodged the bludger that Ireland's beaters, Ryan, directed towards his side.
Quidditch was a sport but it could have killed others when they flew in the pitch.
"If no one died during the game then someone might die during the raid." Harry murmured as he pulled away the Omnioculars from his face and leant back on his seat.
Ireland won but Krum had gotten his hands on the snitch. All of the quidditch players look battered, bruised; covered in sweat and perhaps tears. Bulgaria looked rather upset but held their heads high and shook hands with their honorable opponents. Harry smirked as he watched Nikolai approach Krum with a blinding smile.
Nikolai whipped his head around until he met eyes with Harry, and grayish purple eyes widened. The Russian quickly ran over to them, smiling at Harry and surprising most of the British who recognized the boy from his likeness to his mother.
"Hadrian!" Nikolai exclaimed as he grasped Harry's hand between his. "I promised to introduce you, remember? Come now!" He pulled Harry to his feet and pushed past the crowd towards the Bulgarian team.
Ron was gawking at him, looking rather jealous as Harry came face to face with Viktor Krum. Harry simply blinked in surprise, noticing how Krum looked rather uncomfortable and awkward. It made him laugh, No one would ever believe that Viktor Krum was awful at socializing.
Krum had rarely talked to others outside of his clique, which included Orpheus Black. Krum had been rather antisocial and it had gotten worse with his fame. Although he grew a bit cocky from time to time, Orpheus was always there to humble him with joking insults that hit the spot. That had always been their dynamic.
" Zdravei , Krum. I'm Hadrian Potter, nice to meet you." Harry introduced himself as he offered the seeker his hand. Krum seemed to relax as he took the initiative rather than Krum. The seeker took his hand and nodded.
"Viktor Krum. Nice to meet you Potter." he spoke in rather clumsy English. It gave Harry a rather pinched look to hear the young man speak. His pronunciation didn't sound too bad, but it was still painful to Harry's ears.
" Speak comfortably. I'm fine with you speaking in Bulgarian. " Harry assured as he shoved his hand back into his pocket. Krum looked quite surprised, but nodded hesitantly and chose to speak in his mother tongue. The seeker visibly relaxed, while Nikolai marveled at how fluent Harry sounded.
" Although this may seem awkward considering we've just met, I must say— that feint you did was impressive and dangerous. How many years have you been training to master it? " Harry asked, feigning some kind of small talk. Viktor wasn't really involved in his plans but he was interested in befriending the boy again.
Viktor smiled, " Since I was thirteen. I was recruited by one of my classmates whose parents saw me perform a perfect faint during one of my games two years ago. Although, the wronski feint really is a dangerous risk. " He admitted, looking quite sheepish.
Harry was familiar with this. He—Orpheus had been there when Viktor started to obsess over the wronski feint and trained to perfect it. They had been thirteen, in their third year when Viktor had dragged him away to the freezing lake to practice the wronski feint. Viktor had failed, messing up the trajectory and timing of when he had to pull back up into the air. He slammed down into the freezing waters and Orpheus had done his best to drag the boy out. He had excused Viktor's cold with him staying in the bath for too long.
Orpheus had watched as one of their classmates dragged Viktor away and introduced them to their parents who were apparently part of Bulgaria's department of sports. Viktor Krum had been recruited as Bulgaria's seeker when he was sixteen, trained the entire year when he was seventeen, and played in the Quidditch World cup when he was eighteen. Orpheus had been there with him, cheering him on with what Viktor once described as a wolfish grin.
But Orpheus didn't exist in this world. Who was there to save Viktor from drowning and freezing on the lake? Who was there to help Viktor with his school work when seeker training took up his time? Who was there when Viktor broke his arm during one of these games? He wouldn't be able to get anything out of him.
" That's rather young…if this isn't too personal, what happened when you first tried out the feint? " Harry asked, rather interested as he tilted his head.
Viktor seemed to turn a faint shade of pink, looking away from Harry while Nikolai chuckled.
" I… well… " he stuttered out.
Nikolai only grinned, "From what he and others have told me, Viktor woke up at the crack of dawn and went to the lake to practice. He ended up messing up his form and darted straight into the freezing waters. The teachers gave him detention for a week while he was stuck in the infirmary." He said in English.
Harry narrowed his eyes, Not much has changed then… still, he would have been saved from the detention if I were there. He thought as he smiled at the somewhat embarrassed Krum. They chatted for a while more, Harry listening to Nikolai praise and compliment Krum. He suspected that the reason why Nikolai couldn't replace his role in Viktor's life was because of their age gap. By the time Viktor was practicing the Wronski Feint, Nikolai would have been a wide eyed first year.
" As embarrassing as it is, I am proud to say I have mastered it all these years. Fair warning, if you plan to practice the wronski feint, make sure you have someone with you… saves you the trouble from getting scolded by teachers. " Viktor smiled, a hearty chuckle leaving his lips as he patted Nikolai's head. He grinned towards Harry, while the other boy only smiled back.
You don't have to tell me twice, he thought. The subtle difference between Harry and Orpheus was their genius when it came to Quidditch. Harry was a prodigy when it came to the sport while Orpheus relied on past memories and honed instincts from his past lives.
" I'll think about it. " Harry chuckled, " Ah… the minister is here. "
Nikolai and Viktor turned towards where Minister Oblansk was approaching them with a bright smile. Harry waved at him with a smile as the man's Secretary followed him with an exasperated look. He wasn't too versed on the Bulgarian ministry aside from the many comments Viktor made to his past life. He was more understanding of the Russian Ministry.
" I see you boys are getting along. Good, good. " Oblansk laughed, patting Viktor's shoulder. He praised the young man of his skill and determination, assuring him that he did not disappoint. Viktor, of course, turned a bit red before huffing out in pride.
Oblansk was a father of two, a daughter and a son who Harry could only assume was a bit younger than him. It was obvious why he was easily acting like a father towards Viktor who made him proud.
"The Minister's son, Asen, is a year older than me and his daughter, Bisera, is starting her second year." Nikolai whispered, smiling back at Minister Oblansk.
A son older than me and a daughter young… Ah, now I remember. He thought. Asen Oblansk was a well known hydromancer and his sister was a pyromaniac. Ironic.
From his memories as Orpheus, Harry could somewhat remember the famed diviner that had been two years younger than him. Asen Oblansk was well versed in the art of hydromancy, oftentimes students came to him to learn their futures. Contradicting her brother's skills, Bisera Oblansk was a pyromaniac who was prone to causing several fires by simply reaching out to fire.
"I don't really hear much about Durmstrang, but I heard that his son was good at divination. Is it true that he could see the reflection of one's future?" Harry asked, making sure to be as subtle about it as possible. He needed to know if some aspects of this timeline had changed or not.
Thankfully, Nikolai nodded, "Yep. Asen is still in his fifth year but our divination teacher has recommended for him to actually meet with an actual seer they know. It's amazing really. His sister on the other hand…"
"The pyromaniac?"
"Ah, so you've heard of Bisera's magical issues. Some say her pyromania is the cause of empathy. Something about her magic is heavily connected to her emotions or the emotions of those around her."
"Understandable. Magic is different for others."
Magic was different for others, including himself. If Bisera Oblansk's anchor for magic was her emotions, then Harry's was death.
"It is! Mother says that because of my bloodline, I'm more in tune to offensive magic. Though… I do enjoy runes more." Nikolai sheepishly admits. Runes and Transfiguration weren't necessarily considered offensive magic. The Markov bloodline were naturally born with more aggressive and violent magical cores. Orpheus himself had one that was extremely violent mixed with the Black DNA from Sirius.
"Oh… Nikolai, it seems like I'll have to go." Harry said with a genuinely glum tone. He saw Mr. Weasley try to gain his attention, as he gave the man a nod and turned back to Nikolai. "It was nice knowing you."
Nikolai's expression quickly turned into a sorrowful one, before his eyes brightened and he took out a piece of paper and a pen from his pockets. Harry raised a brow, but Nikolai only grinned. "Muggles are strange, but these pens they've made are more accessible than quills. I don't leave home without one." He explained, before handing the paper to Harry. "Let's be penpals! You can send letters to this address."
Harry smiled, looking down at the rather messy handwriting. The address written on the paper was what he recognized to be Nadia's residence and where Orpheus initially grew up. It was somewhere
"Of course. I suppose I'll just send letters to Durmstrang when school starts?" He asked, but knew that the answer would be yes. Charlie had sent him letters when he was still Orpheus. Nikolai nodded enthusiastically before the two bid the other farewell.
Ron and Hermione quickly pulled him back into the group, side-eying Nikolai who looked absolutely elated. The two gave Harry confused and concerned looks, while said boy simply smiled at them as if nothing was wrong.
"You… you can speak Bulgarian?" Hermione asked, a bit hesitant as she grasped Harry's arm.
"A bit. Nikolai's fluent in English so he was helping me with the entire conversation." Harry lied. They weren't able to hear the conversation so they didn't know.
Hermione gave him a judging look, "Really? Where on earth did you learn Bulgarian?"
"I don't actually know that much. I know certain greetings, compliments, and how to say certain phrases. I learned it when I was in Diagon Alley. The shopkeepers are really nice and interesting! Did you know the owner of the menagerie is a quarter Bulgarian?"
Hermione blinked, nodding as Ron gave Harry a pout. "What's he like? Krum, I mean."
"He's not as arrogant and grumpy as he looks. Really friendly but seems to like being praised. Apparently, he's been practicing the Wronski Feint since he was thirteen." Harry nonchalantly explained as they followed Arthur Weasley out the top box. "He really is still eighteen. Pretty young if you think so."
Ron gave him an awed look, "Wicked."
Hermione promptly rolled her eyes as she wrapped the scarf around her neck tightly. She held Harry's gloved hand, fearing that she may stumble or fall if she didn't. He was in between Harry and Ron, and the dark haired boy immediately noticed her grabbing for Ron's hand. He took notice of how Ron's face turned into a light shade of red, although it wasn't too clear due to the lighting.
Harry chuckled, placing his other hand into the pocket of his coat. I can live with this.
Harry quietly brought a hand to his chest, closing his eyes as he took in deep breaths. His magic had gone a bit erratic in the presence of Nikolai. The boy was almost exactly like his mother. He was the spitting image of Nadia, if not for his eyes. Harry couldn't help but snort as he realized he was beginning to sound like the people who kept comparing him to James. You look exactly like your father, but your eyes… he would often mockingly repeat those words.
There were still many issues to be resolved. Sirius, Remus, the Triwizard tournament, the third trial, the dark lord. But he found himself thinking of the soul he trapped within the emerald gem. Amarantha was an ancient Basilisk. She was supposed to die years ago, but could anyone blame him? She was once his familiar, in a life connected to the present.
The concept of Variants and Incarnations was confusing to him but as time passed he had begun to understand. Variants were different versions of others, Incarnations were ones with different lives. His incarnations had met variants of his original self. Not many times, but enough times to understand that he could have been happier or had a different future. One example was Malcolm. His variant was his own nephew. That variant of him wasn't an orphan. He lost his uncle but he wasn't an orphan.
Once again, Harry found himself thinking back to his sixth life. Orpheus had been the closest to his variant self. A version of Harry Potter so similar to that of his original life that he couldn't help but meddle in his variant's fate. He didn't meet many variants of himself, but he tended to avoid himself if he never needed to speak to his other self.
§Master…Master…hungry…§
Amarantha's voice was unclear. It sounded static to Harry, whispering through the fog if one could say. He hummed, rubbing his thumb over the emerald as he began to push his magic into the gem. Even though she was reduced to a mere soul, Amarantha needed to feed. His magic was perfect for that.
§Endure for a little longer. I'll bring you back to the land of the living soon enough. For now…rest.§ he whispered, planting a soft kiss to the gem. He glanced towards the four youngest Weasleys dancing around like fools, while Bill and Charlie were rolling their eyes. Percy and Hermione were in a corner discussing the ministry and the OWL's exams.
Time was ticking.
Minutes or seconds? He asked himself as he lazily lied on one of the beds. Ron grinned at him while Harry simply waved and yawned. His best friend couldn't help but laugh at how tired Harry seemed. Of course, he wasn't aware that the boy was simply bored waiting for the catastrophe.
Then they heard it. A scream terror pierced through the air of excitement and joy, as they all fell silent.
Seconds then , He thought as he sat up and stretched. The noise was gone, the festivities had ended. He could hear the sounds of running, screams as spells were yelled out. Harry took action and grabbed Hermione and Rons wrists as Fred and George grabbed Ginny.
Bill, Charlie, and Percy followed their father to help with the ministry. The six of them ran, pale and trembling as Harry leads them to the forest.
"Death eaters." Harry murmured and it made the rest flinch. He knew this situation well. He went through it twice and had thought of every countermeasures or precaution to keep himself and his friends safe.
The campsite was on fire. Death eaters were terrorizing the innocents and dangling the muggles by their feet over the fires like meat to be cooked. Hermione was trembling as she held onto him with an iron grip. She was a muggleborn. Everyone knew what the dark lord did to muggleborns.
"Take out your wands— Lumos. " Harry demanded as the tip of his Phoenix feather wand erupted in light. He could feel his magic core buzz at the abrupt use of magic.
" Lumos! "They immediately followed what he said as they carefully moved through the forest.
"Death eaters… death eaters, why are they— Where're the twins and Ginny?!" Ron yelled as he frantically looked around for his siblings.
Harry's eyes went wide as he surveyed the area. He cursed himself for forgetting how the twins and Ginny separated from them as they ran into the forest. He couldn't simply use a locating spell—the magic in the forest was too dense and the other three Weasleys magical presence would have been mixed with the others. He wasn't going to take any chances.
"For heaven's sake—Ronald calm down or I will hit you!" Hermione yelled, but she was almost worse than Ron. Her entire body was trembling, Harry could feel it as she held his hand.
Ron grit his teeth, immediately sensing her distress and held her other free hand. Harry sighed at the two, quietly letting go of Hermione's hand and looking around the area. If everything was mostly the same, then…
"Suppose your daddy told you to hide. Where're the rest of you weasels?"
Harry went stiff, snapping his gaze towards Draco Malfoy who flinched at his sharp look. He couldn't help the manic grin spreading across his face. He was so thankful Hermione and Ron were in front of him, while he tilted his head in a way that made Draco shiver. The look on his face could have been compared to the Cheshire cat in the fairy tales.
"Malfoy, ever so wonderful to see you."
Draco gulped at the happy go lucky tone Harry used. It didn't sound any bit as cheerful as it usually was. Instead, it sounded like a threat, a malicious tone under the happy voice. He stared at Potter, flinching as his eyes met with vivid green hues that reminded him too much of the killing curse. He pushed him against the tree he was leaning against, pursing his lips as he glared at Harry.
"Potter."
"Nice to see you again."
Notes:
Orpheus is. . . Rather problematic compared to Hadrian. Regardless of the fact they are technically the same person, their personalities aren't exactly the same. Orpheus is more obsessive and. . . has less humanity compared to Hadrian.
What do you think will happen to Nikolai because of his past obsession?
On to the Veela! I like to think that the Veela can only affect people who are attracted to their gender. Like, Female Veelas affects people who are attracted to females. Still working on it really!
And oooh! Interaction between Draco and Harry! Next chapter will start with Draco's POV.