Only For You

Only For You

by DPx

Chapter One - Stormy In The North

"Wish I was too dead to cry
My self-affliction fades
Stones to throw at my creator
Masochists to which I cater."

August 30th, A small house in Leeds, Yorkshire.

'You were what?' My mother went paler than I've ever seen her go, tensing right up.

'Expelled, mum.'

'I... ' Well, that seemed to have shut her up. But not for long. 'I can't believe... a son of mine expelled... After all Professor Karkaroff did for you. What did you do?' The thing I couldn't believe was that I'd managed to keep it quiet for as long as I had. Ditto that any of the professors apparently hadn't sent an owl to tell her. Admittedly it had been on the last day of term, but I thought I'd had it too easy. I thought she'd not talked about it to me cause it shamed her too deeply, but it genuinely seemed that my slip of the tongue two days before the new Durmstrang term started was the first she'd heard of my expulsion.

'Mum, you already know, you have to. They must have sent you an owl about it!'

'Tell me, young man,' mum said, quietly, but VERY insistently.

'I... Transfigured Mathias Jansen into a toad. He was saying... '

'I don't want to hear any of your excuses, Jeremiah,' Cringe! Full name time, evidently. 'You used serious magic on another pupil.'

'Mum, do you have any idea what it was like for me there?' I demanded, 'that Miah, he's just a Mudblood... How did a Mudblood like him bewitch Karkaroff into letting him in? It never stopped. Every GOD DAMNED DAY, Mum.'

'So you blame me?'

'Of course not, I just wish you'd understand.'

'Oh, I understand perfectly, you've just got no control over your temper.'

I clenched and unclenched my fists slowly, trying to remain in control of my spiralling emotions. 'Don't you get it? I lost it cause of you. I couldn't stand by and let Jansen and his cronies say what he wanted about us.'

'Jeremiah, I am so angry with you, you... You just wouldn't believe. Ever since your father died, I've paid for you to carry on at Durmstrang, wanted you to carry on for him and now you repay him and me like this.' Ok, that was low. I might have got carried away, but to suggest that I was disrespecting my father's memory was just too much.

'You know what? I'm sick of this... '

'Don't you talk to me like that, Jeremiah... '

'No. You know what? For once in your life, you're going to listen to me. You're going to listen because it's very important. I stood up for myself, I stood up for you, and dad, and just cause some stuck up "pure-bloods" don't like it, don't like the fact that I'm stronger than they are, they decide to take it out on me. I'm really sorry if what I did was wrong.' As if! 'But didn't you always tell me to stand up for myself?'

'Yes, but... '

'So for once, I do what you tell me and STILL you're not satisfied. What do I have to do to please you? Just sit in my room, do nothing, get NOWHERE?' As you may be able to guess, this isn't the first confrontation I've had with my Muggle mother. And I don't think it'll be the last. Just the way she talks down to me drives me mad. I mean, getting expelled wasn't exactly the highlight of my Durmstrang career, but it certainly ranked among one the better things that'd happened to me in my four years there. The constant exclusion on the grounds that I had a Muggle parent meant that the high points were fairly few and far between.

'That's hardly fair, Jeremiah.'

'Hardly fair? No, and neither are you. This isn't the end of the world, you know? It really isn't. There are other places I can go. Other things I can do. There are other schools out there, you know? Schools that'd be glad to take me. I'm a good enough student.' Well, sometimes... When I'm not in trouble. And I'd be lying if I said trouble wasn't rather good at attracting me. 'And I'm a pretty good Quidditch player. Easily as good as Dad was.' My mum jumped at this, and yeah, it was a slight exaggeration. My dad played as a keeper for Germany in two World Cups. Which always a source of friction between us, I always considered myself English, much to his irritation.

'What school's going to take you after what Durmstrang are going to say about you?' Good point...

'There's got to be somewhere, mum, there's got to be. I'm gonna be a wizard. Damnit, I'm going to do it for dad. I don't care if you think I'm disgracing the family name, I don't care if you disown me for this, I'm going to get through this. Mainly for Dad. But also just cause I know that you think I can't.' The slam of the door behind me rattled all the paintings and caused one of the panes of glass in the kitchen door to crack, but I didn't look back. I went straight upstairs to my room, going straight to my clothes cupboard, stuffing some into a bag, throwing my CD player and some music into the bag too. Electricity doesn't work in the Durmstrang castle, but I don't know how I'd survive at home without my music. I pulled my jacket on, slinging the bag over my shoulder, going over to the cage in the corner of my room, picking up my pet rat Davros and tucking him into my pocket. He looked up at me inquisitively, obviously wondering why I'd been rushing around in such a hurry.

'It's ok, Davros, we're leaving. I said I would one day, well, it's time.' He squeaked quietly, certainly not sounding ecstatic at the idea, but he snuggled down into my pocket. I looked around for anything else I'd need, my eyes alighting on my guitar. I couldn't really take that, could I? But I most certainly didn't want to leave it. So I zipped it up in its case, slung it over my other shoulder. Ready? Not quite. I picked my wand out of my Durmstrang robes, which I'd slung on the floor carelessly. Well, I wouldn't need those again. I tucked the wand into my belt and picked up my faithful Nimbus 2001, which I'd propped up in the corner of my room and walked downstairs.

'Jeremiah, you can't do this,' my mother said from the kitchen doorway.

'Too late, mum, I am. Look, you can tell me all you want that it's the wrong decision, that I'm going to be a nobody sleeping rough on the streets. But even that's seeming better than staying here, listening to you telling me I'm a disgrace. Seeya around, mum.' SLAM!

Now what? I finally did what I'd been threatening to do for the past two years. But what next? I had about 4 galleons to my name, not counting the small amount of gold my father had left me at Gringotts, and 4 galleons certainly isn't going to get anyone far. Unless... I looked round, just to check no Muggles were looking, even though it was dark, pulled the wand out of my belt and stuck it out to my side. There was a huge crack and suddenly, as if from nowhere, a bright purple triple decker bus had popped into existence next to me.

A tall lanky wizard with glasses opened the door of the bus. 'Step aboard the Knight Bus, emergency transport for wizards and witches in distress. My name's Stan Shunpike and I'll be your conductor.'

I stepped in gingerly. 'Er, how much is it?'

'Thirteen sickles it'll cost ya. Seventeen for cocoa too.'

'Yeah, er, can you take me anywhere?'

'Of course,' said Stan. ''cepting underwater, though we 'ave been working on that, ain't we, Ern?' The driver, Ern, evidently, grunted quietly in the affirmative.

'No, that's ok... Could you take me to London?'

'Spose. Where in London?' Stupid, I'd lived in England since I was 9, despite going to Durmstrang, but I didn't know my way around my own capital city.

'I dunno. Just somewhere where I can sleep I suppose.'

''Ow bout we take you to The Leaky Cauldron... Sorry, what's your name?'

'Miah Weiss,' I said quietly.

'Funny name, ain't it Ern?'

'It's short for Jeremiah.'

'You any relation to the old German Quidditch player?' Ernie asked, a little recognition creeping in.

'He was my dad.'

'Ah. He was a great player. Made a couple of saves that knocked us out of the World Cup in... Must have been 1990.'

'Yeah, that's him.'

'You look a lot like him.'

'Uh, thanks.'

'You don't sound German.'

'I'm not. I'm English.'

'Must stick in his craw sumfink rotten, that,' Stan jumped in.

'I expect it would, yeah.'

'Would?'

'Yeah, he died.'

'Ah,' said Stan. ''m really sorry, didn't mean to... '

'It's ok, you didn't know,' I said wearily, going over to my bed, laying my bag, broom and guitar down beside it before laying back. It was only when I had my eyes closed that a frantic squeaking from my pocket reminded me of Davros. I pulled him from my pocket and set him on my chest.

'See, Davy? I said it'd be ok. We're on our way to London, we'll be able to find somewhere to go from there.' Davros squeaked quietly into my ear, nuzzling up to my neck.

It was a fight to keep my eyes open, even in spite of the jolting progress of the bus, a fight which eventually I lost, murmuring 'trust me, Davy, it'll all be fine,' as I drifted off to sleep.

'Stan, you'd better wake that German kid up, we'll be in London any second.'

'It's ok, I'm awake,' I murmured, sitting up in the bed. I can't have had more than an hour's sleep, but I felt infinitely better for it. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I was gathering my stuff up as the Knight Bus gave one final jerk and came to a halt.

'There you are, lad,' said Ernie, peering at me over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

'Er, thanks,' I said, looking out of the bus, but not seeing an inn at all, just a long line of closed Muggle shops. 'Er, Stan, where is this place.'

'Never been to the Leaky Cauldron before?' Stan asked, incredulously.

'No.'

'I'll take you in, then,' he said, leading me off the bus. ''Ere it is.' And there it was. You definitely wouldn't have spotted the Leaky Cauldron if you hadn't been looking for it. It seemed like the gap between two of the Muggle shops had just grown, and the dingy-looking inn had appeared in between. I followed Stan inside, dodging round a tall man, dressed in a black suit, followed him up to the bar and heard him talk to the landlord. 'Tom, this is Jeremiah.' "Miah" I corrected, silently. 'We picked 'im up in Yorkshire somewhere. Needs somewhere to sleep fer tonight. I should be going though, so I'll leave him with you, if that's ok.'

'Thanks, Stan,' said Tom as Stan walked out of the Leaky Cauldron, turning back to me. 'So, you were wanting a room for tonight, Jeremiah?'

'Miah.'

'Hmm?'

'My name is Miah.'

'Odd, Stan said it was...'

'He heard wrong.'

'Oh, ok,' Tom said, taken aback slightly. 'Well, if you'll just follow me, I'll take you to your room. It'll be a galleon for tonight, please.' I handed him the gold piece, with a heavy heart. That, and the fare for the Knight Bus left me with just over 2 galleons until I could get to Gringotts. And I didn't know how. I'd only ever gone to a branch in Germany.

'Here you are, young sir,' Tom said, opening the door for me.

'Er, thank you.'

'Will you be wanting anything else? Something to eat maybe?'

'I'll be fine, thanks.'

'Breakfast's at 8.30, see you then.' And with that, Tom was gone. I pulled Davros from my pocket and set him down on the table, in front of the mirror.
'I can't stand rats,' said a female voice from within the room. I looked round urgently, but couldn't see anyone else in the room. 'Over here, ducky,' said the... mirror?

'What's wrong with rats?' I asked.

'Filthy, dirty, 'orrible creatures, rats are.'

'Davros isn't, are ya, Davy?' I picked him up but he wriggled to be put down so I set him down on the bedside table. I sat down in front of the table, looking at myself in the mirror.

The face that looked back at me from the mirror looked familiar, but different in a way. A little older than my fifteen years. A little older than I looked yesterday, maybe. I mean, the face was the same. The same features, almost feminine, so nearly feminine it made it far too easy for the boys at Durmstrang to pick on me for other reasons than having a Muggle mother. The same hair, messy, but deliberately so, just enough to give me that "couldn't care less" aura I'd tried so hard to cultivate. Same Muggle clothes that I wore when I wasn't at school, just a leather jacket, band t-shirt and jeans. But something was different. Something undefinable.

'You look tired, dearie. I'd be getting some sleep, if I was you.'

'Er, yeah, thanks.' Of course, that could be it. I was just tired, and my eyes were playing tricks on me.

I undressed for bed, only pausing to lock the door and check Davros wasn't causing any trouble, before slipping into the soft, comfortable bed and falling asleep.

August 31st, London

I was woken by Davros' squeaking, right in my ear. I turned away from him, trying to shut out the light that was insistently trying to burrow through my eyelids. As you may be able to guess, I'm hardly a morning person. 'Not now, Davy,' I slurred, 'let me sleep some more.' But his squeaking only got more insistent. I rolled over, trying to focus on the clock on the bedside table. 8:25. Nearly breakfast time. I got up, still rubbing sleep out of my eyes. I wasn't hungry, and I certainly didn't feel like being around other people much right now, but I couldn't afford not to take advantage of a breakfast I'd already paid for, I couldn't say when I'd be able to get something to eat next. I washed and dressed quickly, checking my hair in the mirror, scruffing it up a bit more before going downstairs.

'Mornin', Mr Weiss,' said Tom, cheerily, setting a plate of bacon and eggs down on the table I'd chosen.

'How did you... I never told you my last name.'

'No, I know, well, I was thinking your face looked familiar, and of course it did, your father played Quidditch for Germany. Michael Weiss 'is name was, great keeper.'

'Yeah, that's right,' I said, looking round warily, not really wanting people to overhear.

'You play?'

'Er, what?' I asked, round a mouthful of bacon.

'Quidditch. Do you play.'

'Yeah, I play keeper, like he did.'

'Are you any good?'

'I'm not bad. The German youth team asked me to a trial, but I don't want to play for Germany.'

'Want to play for England do you?'

'Yeah. One day hopefully.'

'Well, good luck to you. I knew your father, he was a good man.'

'Er, yeah, thanks,' I murmured, not sure of what to say.

'Oh, this came for you this morning,' Tom said, absent-mindedly, going over to the bar, picking up a thick envelope from the counter and handing it to me.

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| Mr J Weiss |
| Room 14 |
| The Leaky Cauldron |
| London |
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But who could have known where I was? I didn't recognise the handwriting, it certainly wasn't my mother's. I looked at the seal on the back, it said "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

I slit the envelope open, suddenly eager to know what was inside, now that I knew it wasn't another reprimand from the Ministry of Magic about a certain Transfiguration "incident."

I pulled the thick parchment out of the envelope, smoothed it out on the table and read:

Dear Mr Weiss,

We are writing to you to offer you a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. We are aware that your father initially intended you to attend Hogwarts, but changed his mind on the advice of Professor Karkaroff.

We realise that this offer comes as a result of, and indeed, in spite of a certain incident which lead to your expulsion from Durmstrang Institute. This place is, of course, offered on the understanding that no such similar incident will occur again.

The book list for 5th years is enclosed. We ask that you present yourself, with appropriate accoutrements at Hogwarts on the 1st of September, 2003, in time for the start of the new school year. The School Train leaves from Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Kings Cross Station at 11:00.

Pupils are allowed to bring either an owl, a toad or a rat as a pet.

We look forward to your reply and to seeing you at Hogwarts for the following year,

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.

'That your school letter, is it?' Tom asked, smiling at the look on my face, which was somewhere in between shock and complete happiness.

'Yeah, that's right. I dunno where to get any of this stuff though,' I said, waving my hand at the list of books.

'Well, you'll be wanting to go to Diagon Alley,' Tom said, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

'How do I... I've never been.'

'Well, finish your breakfast and I'll show you.' So I wolfed down what remained of my bacon and eggs, feeding what I couldn't quite finish to Davros under the table when no one was looking (I was used to it, but I'm not sure what other people might have thought about a rat eating on the table!) and followed Tom out the back of the Leaky Cauldron.

'Ok,' Tom said, leading me to a blank wall. 'Just take out your wand,' I did so, 'and tap the wall here,' he said, pointing with his finger.

The second my wand touched the seemingly plain wall, the bricks appeared to move to the side, and before long, there was an ornate archway, leading through into a narrow, bustling street with shops on either side. 'There you go, Mr Weiss, Diagon Alley. Gringotts is straight up to your left, if you need anything else, just ask in there,' said Tom, before retreating back through the arch back to the Leaky Cauldron.

I wandered around for a while, just taking in all the sights of Diagon Alley, shops selling just about everything, from robes, to wands, to Quidditch equipment. I paused outside a shop called "Quality Quidditch Supplies," admiring the Firebolt they had in the window. I could certainly do with one of those, although I'd only ever lost one Quidditch match on my Nimbus. I remember watching the Irish team at the Quidditch World Cup, and how I wished I would one day be able to fly like that. I was jolted back to reality by a girl bumping into me.

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' she said, looking me up and down quickly, looking with surprise at my Muggle clothes. I did the same to her, taking in her long, bushy hair and her pretty, vaguely familiar face.

'No problem,' I said, smiling. 'Nothing broken at least.'

'Oh, good. Now excuse me, I'm meeting a friend in a minute.'

'Er... '

'Yes?'

'No, sorry, I just thought you looked like someone I knew,' I said, moving out of her way. Weird, I was positive now that I'd seen her face somewhere before. Sure of it.

I carried on up the street to Gringotts, taking a moment to check my pockets for the key that my father had given me all those years ago. I walked in to the imposing building, taking a moment to look around the huge entrance hall. High counters rose up from the highly polished floor on both sides. Behind the counters on both sides were Goblins, writing furiously in huge ledgers, weighing gold and dealing gruffly with customers, all of them dressed in robes, which again caused me to feel a little out of place.

I swallowed hard and strode up to the counter, taking the key out of my pocket. 'Hello. Er, my name's Miah Weiss, I want to withdraw some money from my vault, please.'

'Key please,' said the goblin in heavily accented English, holding out a hand. I reached up and held it out. 'Yes, that seems in order. I'll just get someone to go down to your vault with you.' I followed another goblin, this one with a lantern, down into a vast tunnel, got aboard a carriage that ran along rails that disturbingly seemed to balance on thin air. I kept looking over the side of the carriage as we rolled along, seeing nothing but other rails below and beyond those, blackness.

Suddenly the cart stopped, throwing me forward a little. The goblin hopped out, outside vault number 1165, slipped the key into the lock and turned. As the door opened, he beckoned me forwards, towards the open door.

I knelt inside, scooping up as much gold as I thought I'd need, but still mindful that I had another 2 years of school after this. Well, always assuming that I managed to stay at Hogwarts! It was certainly tempting to drag out every single Galleon and blow it on a Firebolt, but I banished that thought quickly. I certainly wouldn't be able to live on no gold for the next two years and I wasn't expecting anything from my mum.

I shovelled the gold into a bag that the goblin held out for me. I just stood there looking into the bag for a few seconds, looking at the small collection of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. The last things my father ever gave to me. 'Excuse me, are you done?' asked the goblin. 'I'm very busy, you see.'

'Yeah, sorry... I'm finished.' The ride back up into the main part of the bank seemed to take far longer than the ride down as I sat there in the cart, clutching my bag of money. I walked slowly up Diagon Alley, looking into all the shops to see if they'd be any help with my school list. Ollivander's... no, I had a wand. Ok, it was a Gregorovitch wand, but it's still a wand, right? I checked the list again, and wandered over to Madam Malkin's to buy my school robes.

'Hello, dearie,' said a cheery witch, looking up from behind the counter. 'I'm just dealing with someone now, I'll be right with you though, if you want to sit down.' She gestured to a row of four chairs, two of which were taken up by a freckly, red haired boy, about my age and the girl I'd bumped into outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

'Look, Ron,' the girl said, as I sat down, in what she probably thought was an inaudible whisper, 'that's him. The boy who bumped into me earlier. His eyes are scary. They're so dark, it's like they're black.' The boy, Ron, obviously, looked at her, rolling his eyes.

'He looks alright,' he said, in an equally audible whisper. 'Don't think he goes to Hogwarts though, I wonder what he's doing in here.'

I looked over at them, as if noticing them for the first time. 'Oh, hi. Look, I wanted to say sorry for being so rude earlier. I was just sure that I'd seen your face before.' The girl looked at me oddly, as if she thought I was making a move on her, before relaxing a little.

'Oh, that's ok. I'm Hermione by the way.'

'Hermione Granger?'

'How did you know?' she asked, suddenly all suspicious again.

'I know Viktor Krum. He had a picture of you at school.'

At the mention of Krum, Ron rolled his eyes again and snorted quietly. Ignoring him, Hermione looked at me a bit closer, more interested now. 'You go to Durmstrang?' she asked, surprised.

'I used to.'

'Used to? You passed your N.E.W.T.s?'

'No, I was expelled.'

'Oh,' Hermione said, looking disapproving. 'What for?'

'I don't really want to go into that. Viktor wouldn't stop talking about you though,' I said hastily, trying to change the subject.

'Really? I thought he'd forget about me the second he got back home.'

'No, he carried your picture most places he went after he got back.'

'Oh, that's so...'

'I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley,' said Ron, cutting Hermione off, offering his hand to me.

'Miah Weiss,' I said, shaking his hand.

'So you're coming to Hogwarts?'

'Yeah, in here picking all my stuff up.'

'You speak good English for someone who used to go to Durmstrang.'

'Well, I am English. My dad was German, but I've lived in England ever since he died. I think I just got the letter from Durmstrang cause he went there.'

'What's it like there?'

'I hated it. Far too dark and gloomy. And I didn't exactly get on well with people there.'

'Ah, I see. What year are you in?'

'I just finished my fourth year at Durmstrang. Got expelled on the last day of term. I hope they'll just let me pick up from the beginning of the fifth year.'

'They should,' said Hermione. 'If you're good enough.'

'Don't worry about Hermione,' interjected Ron. 'She's obsessed with school work.'

'Ron!'

'Well, it's true! You didn't stop working all summer, just cause of O.W.L.s NEXT summer.'

'They're important!'

'I know, Hermione, but they're a year away!'

'Well, don't blame me if you don't get any.'

Ron sighed, and turned to me. 'Hopeless,' he mouthed. 'So, you play Quidditch?'

'Yeah. I love to play.'

'Cool. What position.'

'Keeper.'

'Really? Cause Gryffindor are looking for a keeper now Wood's gone. He left the year before but there wasn't a Quidditch cup cause of the Triwizard Tournament. Are you any good?'

'I got asked to play for the German youth squad, but I didn't want to. I want to play for England.'

'Ha, so you're a bit good then,' said Ron, laughing.

'I get by,' I said, with a cocky little grin.

'Hope you get sorted into Gryffindor, then.'

'Sorted? Gryffindor?'

'Oh, yeah, sorry. There's four houses at Hogwarts, Gryffindor, which me and Hermione are in, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and... Slytherin. You don't want to be in Slytherin. They're all slimy, evil little b______.'

'Ron!'

'Well, they are.'

'Yes, but you don't need to say it like that.'

Ron broke off from replying to look over Hermione's shoulder, at a dark haired boy wearing glasses coming out of the fitting room of the shop. 'Hey Harry, those look good.'

'Yeah, they're not bad. Better than my old robes, anyway. They were getting a bit tatty. And I'd only had them a year.' Harry handed Madame Malkin some money and came over to Ron, Hermione and I.

'Harry, this is Miah, we met him just now, he's going to Hogwarts this term. Fifth year.'

'Hey, Miah,' he said, shaking my hand. 'Harry Potter.' I thought there was something familiar about his handsome features. So this was the famous Harry Potter. The boy, who, as a baby had caused the downfall of the most powerful dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort (I'd always been taught by my dad not to worry about saying the name. 'Fear of a name only increases fear of the person,' he used to say.)

'Miah Weiss,' I said, feeling his cool, smooth skin against my hand. He released my hand with a smile. 'We were going to have a sundae at Florian Fortescue's. When you get your robes, do you want to come and join us? We'll be going to Flourish and Blotts to get books later, if you still need to.'

'Yeah, I still need books. That'd be cool though.' Ron and Hermione stood, to follow Harry out of the shop. 'See you guys there then.'

'See you, Miah.'

As I tried on different robes, my mind was racing, thinking about what had just happened. I'd met Harry Potter. My stomach felt all knotted, cause... Well, I've never thought of another guy like this before but he was, there's no other word for it, cute...