Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

Apparently, I'd been out for three days following the first task. I manage to convince Madam Pomfrey to let me out of the hospital wing the next day. It's Monday. There will be classes. I'll still be going to classes, right? The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students that are here are attending classes at Hogwarts, after all.

I head down to the Great Hall for breakfast and take a seat at the Slytherin table with my friends.

"Stormseeker!" Draco says. "You're finally awake!"

Neville and Hermione look at me a little uneasily. I suppose I can understand why.

"That was incredible!" Blaise says. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"Did I hear right that you were expelled?" Theodore asks.

I sigh, wave my wand, and mutter, "Muffliato. That wasn't incredible. That was a last resort. I died seven times. Seven. Times."

"Oh, Merlin," Neville murmurs.

"But, you used an Unforgivable Curse," Hermione says. "Where did you learn that?" She looks at me intently. "It was Moody, wasn't it. Has he been teaching you Unforgivables in those fake detentions you've been having?"

"Hermione, always the perceptive one," I say, chuckling.

"She's right?" Draco says. "How did you ever manage to convince him to teach you?"

"It doesn't matter," I say. "Just please don't you lot go pestering him about it yourselves. He'd kill me if he found out this got out."

"Why would you even want to learn Unforgivables?" Neville asks in a small voice.

"Sedder," I half snarl.

"I... suppose I can understand that," Neville says softly. "If there were anyone I would be willing to use them on, myself, it would be... people who hurt my family..."

"Still," Hermione says. "Unforgivables! Um... if you don't want us to ask Moody to teach us, maybe you could tutor us yourself instead?"

I blink at her. "Are you protesting something and then asking to learn it in the same breath?"

"Well, I never turned down an opportunity to learn something," Hermione says. "Of course, using them against a living, intelligent being would be bad, but you did very well to show how useful they could be against that dragon..."

I just have to laugh softly, and say, "Hermione... never change, alright?"

I'm still tinged with a touch of melancholy. Everything hasn't really had a chance to sink in yet. But at least I know I have true friends who won't turn on me in an instant.

"You'll still be coming to classes with us, right?" Blaise asks.

"I still need to compete in the tournament," I say. "They can't turn me away from that."

"Will you actually be going away next year, though?" Theodore asks.

I sigh. "Probably. I'm trying not to look that far ahead yet, though. I still need to survive this year."

"If you do, I'm going with you," Draco says.

"America might be interesting," Blaise says lightly.

"Well, if you and Draco go, I'm certainly not going to stay here," Hermione says.

"I think my Gran might be disappointed if I left..." Neville says.

"We can worry about it next summer," I say with a small smile. "You guys really are great, you know that? Do what you like. I won't judge you. I just wish I could take you all with me when I move on to the next universe..."

"That would be amazing," Hermione says.

I go through classes like normal that week. The teachers all give me nasty looks, when they deign to look at me at all. Well, aside from Snape, who doesn't look any nastier than usual.

"Five points from Gryffindor for your ineptitude, Potter," Snape says, absently passing by my table and seeing me tiredly and clumsily cutting herbs.

"Sir, I'm not in Gryffindor anymore," I point out.

"Five points from Gryffindor for arguing with me," Snape says.

"He's not in Gryffindor anymore!" Ron says. "He got expelled! Quit taking points from us for his actions already!"

"Then I will take points from Gryffindor for your actions, Weasley," Snape says. "Five points from Gryffindor for talking back to me."

Most of the students won't talk to me anymore, except for the Slytherins, my inner circle, and a handful of others from Storm Army. And, for some reason, Cedric and his friends.

"Harry!" Sirius says when I meet up with him in the Slytherin dorm on Tuesday evening. "What in the name of Merlin's saggy left testicle is going on? What's this I hear about you using the Imperius Curse? And being expelled? Tell me this is all just another horrible rumor."

"Sorry, I won't lie to you," I say. Well, not about that, anyway.

"What was wrong with the spell I suggested?" Sirius says. "Harry, the Imperius? Really?"

I sigh. "It was the only thing I could find that would work." I slump down onto the couch. "I'm sorry. I wasn't exactly trying to die or anything. I died seven times! By that point, I was desperate. I used the Imperius as a last resort. Believe me, I tried everything else I could think of first... Please don't judge me for that. I'd hate to lose you..."

"Oh, Harry," Sirius says. "Of course I'm not going to turn on you for that! I didn't realize it was that bad..."

"And yeah, I've been expelled," I say. "I have to stay for the tournament, of course, but next year, assuming I survive this year, I'll be heading over to the States. Come with me, please? It'll be a good opportunity for you to start a new life..."

"A new life, huh..." Sirius says. "Well, I suppose that wouldn't be so bad. And I can hardly abandon my dear godson, can I?"

At least Sirius hadn't been upset or anything to hear about my unexpected betrothal. He just said something vague along the lines of what a man's got to do, whatever that's supposed to mean.

Rita Skeeter's articles about me in the Daily Prophet have stepped up to another level of nastiness. As if she didn't already sound convinced that I'm the next Dark Lord before this. It's not bad enough that she goes after me, however, but she's started taking jabs at my friends as well. That makes my blood boil. She can say what she likes about me, but how dare she go after my friends?

"That was an awfully bold move, Potter," Moody tells me in his office after his class that Thursday. "Still, the fact that you successfully dominated a dragon speaks well for you."

"So, will our lessons be continuing?" I ask.

"You still need practice, don't you?" Moody says. "And there's one more Unforgivable you haven't learned yet. We can start on that next term, if you think you're ready for it by that point."

My blood chills at that thought, but all I say is, "Yes, sir." That's not a curse I'm looking forward to learning. There's no good reason for me to learn it. And yet, I've gone this far. I might as well go all the way. This path has already led me into dark places.

"Good," Moody says. "And you'll be here Saturday for 'detention' as well?"

"Can we get away with calling them detentions, still?" I say. "I'm not officially a Hogwarts student anymore."

"Talk to your headmistress," Moody says, shrugging. "She seemed the sort to appreciate the merits of any form of magic."

On Saturday, the Dueling Club group is smaller than it usually is. I suppose that's to be expected. I don't dare bring up the subject of actually teaching Unforgivables unless it's just me and the inner circle, however, and they don't push the subject yet. Maybe it can wait until next term. I'm not certain that I really want to teach them. I'm not sure that I'm cut out to be much of a teacher to begin with, never mind teach things like this.

I'm sleeping in on Sunday morning. Seeing that I've no reason to remain in the Gryffindor dorms any longer, I've moved into the third year Slytherin boys' dorm. When I wake, I jump in surprise at the sight of a tall, lanky woman sitting on the end of my bed. Who is she? How did she get past my Revulsion Curse? No, wait, I haven't been bothering to cast it since I moved in. I trust the Slytherins and don't feel the need to be quite so paranoid around them.

"So, you're finally awake," she says in an accent that marks her as likely being with Durmstrang. "I was starting to wonder if you were even going to bother waking up before noon. Your dog has been glaring at me like he'd bite me if I disturbed you."

I peer up at her in alarm. She has brown hair and ice blue eyes, and a nasty curse scar disfigures part of her face. She wears a wand holster on her wrist, and is dressed in a heavy, pale blue robe.

"Who are you?" I demand.

"Ah, right. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Katrina Krum. You know, your betrothed."

"Oh," I say dumbly.

Katrina cocks her head and looks at me critically. "Although when Viktor told me he'd come across someone willing to marry me, I didn't expect that he meant a little kid."

My skin crawls and my bones ache suddenly. Damn it, I didn't mean to change my age like that. Now that the ability has awakened, it keeps asserting itself all on its own.

"What was that?" Katrina says, looking at me strangely.

"Um... I'm a sort of Metamorphmagus or something like that," I say. "I can change my age at will."

"Oh," Katrina says. "I see. Well, I suppose that's not so bad, then." She hops off the end of the bed and stalks into the middle of the room. "Still, even if you can change your age, I doubt you'd be at all a worthy husband for me."

"It wasn't exactly my idea," I say, climbing out of bed.

"Obviously not," Katrina says. "I doubt you even have a girlfriend, never mind have ever gotten laid. Have you even kissed a girl before?"

"Er, I've kissed a boy before..." I say sheepishly.

"Oh, that speaks so well for you," Katrina says, rolling her eyes. She pulls out her wand and says, "Alright, if you're so great, then, prove that you're worthy for me! Duel me!"

"Well, alright then..." I say uneasy. This wasn't really how I'd intended the morning to start out. Actually, I'd intended to start the morning out at lunch. I face off with Katrina in my pajamas, pulling out my wand.

"Castrato!" Katrina casts.

I dive out of the way. "Gah! Protego! What in the Abyss are you doing?"

Padfoot growls at her from under the bed, and notably doesn't jump in front of any curses for me.

"Testing your worth, of course," Katrina says. "Castrato!"

As I dodge, block, and counter a hail of Castration Curses, I suddenly realize why Viktor was so eager to get someone to marry his sister. She's crazy, and just a little scary!

"Expelliarmus!" I cast. "Stupefy! Frigipes!"

The first two spells miss, and the third doesn't even phase her. Despite standing on a slick sheet of ice, she doesn't slip or lose her balance. "Is that the best you can do?" Katrina says. "Come on! Show me your skills!"

"But--" I start. Then another curse catches me offguard, and I stumble to the floor, bleeding profusely from my neck and chest.

"I deem you unworthy," Katrina says, standing above me as my vision fades away into darkness.

I wake with a soft groan. Well, that was pleasant. And I still have Katrina sitting on the end of my bed, looking down at me.

"Finally bothered to wake up, did you?" Katrina says.

"Hello, Katrina," I mutter.

"Oh, you recognize me?" Katrina says. "Did Viktor show you a picture, describe me or something, or was it just a lucky guess? What's my baby brother been saying about me?"

"Absolutely nothing," I reply. "Just a lucky guess."

"Well, it won't help you," Katrina says. "I don't think you're worthy to be my husband, little boy. Come on, get up and duel me. Prove yourself to me."

"Alright, alright!" I say, getting up and pulling out my wand. I can see how this morning is going to be going.

I know better than to fool around this time. I need to take her seriously. She is vicious and will show me no mercy. I dodge curses left and right, keeping alert and retaliating in kind. I don't really want to hurt her, but she's obviously not satisfied by me sending off tame school-approved spells.

"Come on. Viktor told me you could cast the Sleetstorm Curse," Katrina says. "After only seeing it cast once, no less. Show me, then!"

"Nevischio!" I cast. A small, localized blizzard appears above Katrina's head.

The spell is fairly weak, and Katrina neutralizes the effects of it easily. "Needs work, certainly," Katrina says. "But you did cast it. I want to know how. You need to use the memory of a snowstorm in your homeland in order to cast it. Do they even have such things in England?"

"I'm sure they do, but I didn't even grow up in English," I say. "I was raised in the United States. And my home village did indeed get some nasty snowstorms during the winter."

"Whatever," Katrina says. "At least you display an adequate knowledge of curses for your age. I suppose I'll have to marry you. But I don't have to like it!"

"If you don't want to marry me--"

"Quiet, you," Katrina snaps. "You're not back out now, are you?"

"Of course not," I say.

"The wedding is scheduled for the Winter Solstice," Katrina says. "Maybe you'll have the good grace to die after getting me pregnant, so that I don't have to deal with being married to you forever."

"That's entirely likely," I say lightly.

At least I didn't ignobly die this time to a random curse. Katrina is agile, graceful, quick as the wind. Her spells are ferocious, ruthless, relentless. I've never seen a woman like her before. I think I'm in love. Maybe I'm not gay after all. But I definitely like boys, too. So perhaps I'm bisexual. Or perhaps badass-sexual. Or something. Yeah, I think I can live with that.

Once Katrina leaves, Sirius transforms, and I put up a couple spells for privacy. Sirius says, "So that's the woman you've got to marry? I'm not sure whether to offer congratulations or condolences."

"I'm not sure, either..." I say. "Personally, if I had my choice, I'd want you to be by my side forever."

Sirius chuckles softly. "We don't always get what we want, do we."

The wedding takes place after the next full moon, to which I'm grateful. Dumbledore didn't look like he wanted to approve of this sort of thing, but wound up just throwing up his hands in surrender and frustration. I haven't really been making his job easy, I fear. I don't think he would have ever helped me to become his Boy-Who-Lived if he had any idea at the time what I might wind up going on to do.

More students than usual are staying at school for the Christmas holiday because of the Yule Ball that will be taking place.

I wake up on the morning after the Winter Solstice with a hangover and little idea what happened the previous day. Well, I must have had my wedding... My blushing bride is nowhere in sight, however, and I'm not even sure where I am. I pull out the Remembrall Draco gave me, and it turns red. At least it wasn't black. I haven't been Obliviated. I get dressed and stumble out of the room, and find my way to the Great Hall.

"What in the Abyss happened yesterday?" I say, plopping myself down at the Slytherin table next to my friends. Looks like lunch is currently on.

"You got married," Draco says.

"I think I vaguely remember that..." I say.

"Then Viktor introduced you to firewhiskey," Draco adds.

"Oh," I say. "Does alcohol normally make you forget things?"

"I suppose, if you drink enough of it," Draco says, shrugging. "And you drank enough of it that you started singing. Badly. Don't do that again, please."

I snort softly. "Don't get drunk, or don't sing? I don't really plan on doing either. I don't relish the thought of forgetting things. Anyway, where's Katrina?"

"Went home already," Draco says. "She said that she hoped that she got pregnant last night, or she'd have to endure sleeping with you again."

"Did she really say that?" I ask.

"Would I lie to you?" Draco says.

"I thought she'd at least stay for the Yule Ball," I say.

"She said that after seeing your ineptitude in bed, she didn't care to test your gracelessness on the dance floor," Draco says.

"While I can quite easily imagine her saying these things, you repeating them word for word isn't helping matters any," I say with a smirk.

"Sorry," Draco says, sounding not the least bit contrite, especially the way he's grinning.

"Bah, so who am I supposed to take to the ball now?" I wonder aloud.

"Katrina said that you could take your boyfriend along if you wanted," Draco says. "Or your girlfriend if you're actually not gay. She said that she's not about to get jealous of barely-pubescent children over the sake of a mediocre sperm donor."

Perhaps it's just as well that Katrina is already gone. "I think I've heard quite enough of what Katrina says now," I say. "Do you have a date, Draco?"

"If you're trying to invite me, I'm not gay, Stormseeker," Draco replies dryly.

I snort softly. "I was just wondering, not suggesting anything."

"But yes, I do have a date," Draco says. "And no, I'm not telling you who it is."

"Prat," I say, smirking.

I imagine that most of the students fourth year and up already have dates by this point. I might have better luck asking a third year, since they otherwise wouldn't be able to attend the ball. Luna went home for Christmas, so she apparently didn't have a date. After lunch, I head off to send her a message.

"Luna," I write. "I know this is a bit of short notice, but I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Yule Ball with me. My wife skipped town and left me without a date, so we can go as friends if you want? I'll understand if you have other plans, though. Please write back with an answer soon. Thanks. Stormseeker."

The next morning at breakfast, Solomon brings back a letter with Luna's reply. "Stormseeker, I would be happy to come to the Yule Ball as your friend," Luna writes. "I'll be certain to bring along my father's best wrackspurt repellents, as well. You can never be too careful."

Christmas day arrives. I've had far too many other things on my mind to try to think of the perfect present for my friends, so I just wound up sending them all candy and books.

Luna arrives in the afternoon for the Yule Ball this evening. She's elegantly clad in a dress that appears to be entirely made from a shiny, metallic material, including the hat.

"Very... interesting attire, Luna," I say, looking at her in wonderment.

"Thank you, Stormseeker," Luna says. "My father discovered that tin foil makes for adequate wrackspurt repellent. I wasn't content with merely protecting my head, however. Here, I brought something for you, too." She pulls out a necklace made from butterbeer corks. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," I repeat, chuckling and taking the gift in good faith, and put it around my neck.

"So your wife left already?" Luna asks. "That's too bad. She was quite fascinating."

"She reminds me of my great-grandmother," I murmur. "I don't want to know what that says about me."

When the ball begins, I spot Draco come into the hall with Hermione at his arm. I almost don't recognize her for a moment, and wonder where she ever got clothes like that. Did Draco buy some for her, I wonder? They're deep blue, full of lace and ruffles, and trail all the way down to the floor. Her hair is done up in bronze and sapphires. She looks like a Ravenclaw princess.

"I hope that the Infinite Dragon is happy with his chosen mate," Luna comments absently.

"I never would have expected him to intentionally defy his family like that," I say quietly.

"His path has taken him far, but there is still much ahead of him," Luna says. "Shall we dance?"

"I don't know how to dance," I admit. McGonagall was offering lessons, but I really didn't feel welcome and was awfully busy with other concerns, so I didn't bother to go.

"That's alright," Luna says. "I'll teach you a lovely dance I came across while on holiday last summer."

"Alright," I say.

"Here, you stand like this... put your hands out like this..." she proceeds to give a demonstration, explaining each move step by step. I follow along as best as I can.

"Stormseeker, what are you doing?" Draco asks, coming over to us with Hermione.

"Dancing," I say.

"That's the most ridiculous dance I've ever seen," Draco says.

"It serves well to ward off nargles," Luna says. "I'm certain that the Macarena will prove to be quite popular in upcoming years."

Draco looks at her incredulously. "I certainly hope not."

"It's not quite the same without the music, though," Luna says.

"Right, forget dancing," I say. "Why don't we just take a walk?"

"Alright, Stormseeker," Luna says.

I wander around a bit with Luna, trying to relax. People tend to avoid me enough these days when I don't have Luna with me. With her, it seems like the vast majority of people around would rather just pretend that I'm not present.

Wanting to get away from the people for a little bit, I slip outside with Luna. It's a lovely evening, with lights dancing among the rose garden. Here and there, some people are sitting on stone benches, pointedly also ignoring us.

Then, I overhear voices somewhere nearby, sounding like they don't want to be overheard. "I don't know what you're fussing about, Igor." That sounds like Snape.

"Severus, you cannot pretend that this isn't happening!" Who is that other person? Sounds like someone from Durmstrang. I peer around to get a look. Ah, Karkaroff. "It's been growing clearer for months! I am very concerned!"

"Then flee, if you are afraid," Snape says coolly. "I will cover for you. I am remaining here, however."

Snape blasts apart several rose bushes in a display of anger I rarely see in him. Two students, likely having been snogging in the bushes, squeal and run off in the wake of Snape taking points from their houses.

"And what are you two doing?" Snape demands, noticing Luna and me standing there.

"Nothing of import," I reply. "And we have certainly not overheard anything that you might have been saying."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek and for eavesdropping, Potter," Snape says.

"I'm not in Gryffindor anymore," I remind him. "I think I might have seen Ron doing something foolish back in the hall, though. Like dancing badly."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for Weasley's terrible attempts at dancing," Snape says offhandedly. "Now keep walking, Potter. You heard nothing."

"I think I might have heard the calls of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack in this direction," Luna says dreamily. "We must go try to catch it!"

"You do that," Snape says as we head off.

Further on, I overhear another conversation.

"I knew from the moment I saw you." That sounds like Hagrid.

"What is that?" asks a deep woman's voice that could only be Madame Maxine.

I don't really care to interrupt that conversation either. I pretend to ignore them, staring at a beetle crawling along a statue.

"Stormseeker," Luna whispers. "That's no ordinary beetle."

I frown at her and turn my attention back to the beetle. I don't see anything unusual about it, but Luna's a Seeker, after all, so if she says there's something strange about it, I'll take her word for it. I snatch it up and hold it in my cupped hands as it frantically tries to fly away.

"Do you have a jar or bottle or something on you?" I ask.

"Here," Luna says, pulling out an empty butterbeer bottle and holding it out.

"Thanks," I say, shoving the beetle into the bottle, and Luna quickly stops it up with the cork. I cast a spell on it to make sure the beetle won't suffocate. Assuming they even need to breathe. I have no idea.

"I have never been so insulted!" Madame Maxine is yelling. "I am not a half-giant! I just have big bones!" She storms off in a huff.

Hagrid's been shot down, apparently. I don't think he'd really appreciate my consolations right now, so I just head off with Luna again, staring into the bottle at the ordinary-looking beetle.

"So, you know what this beetle is?" I ask.

Luna nods. "It's an Animagus."

"What?" I say, gaping at her. "Do you know who?"

Luna shakes her head. "I have no idea. Sorry."

"Wait, you can tell people are Animagi?" I say quietly. "Why didn't you say anything about S-- Stubby Boardman, or Scabbers, then?"

"I never saw the rat," Luna says. "And by the time I saw Stubby Boardman, the rest of you had already figured it out. I couldn't go to Hogsmeade because I was only in second year, after all, and then you hid him away in the Slytherin dorm."

"Oh," I say dumbly. "Well, there's one surefire way to find out who this is."

I pull out the Marauder's Map and activate it, and peer about for our location on the grounds. Sure enough, by the dots labeled Luna Lovegood and Lexen Chelseer, there's a third one labeled Rita Skeeter. I give a positively wicked grin as I realize just who it is that I've caught.

I head back inside and locate Draco and Hermione, who are taking a break from dancing to get some refreshments. I approach them and cast a quick privacy spell. "Hey, Hermione," I say. "Hate to ask, but you're better with charms than me. Do you know one that'll keep this bottle here from breaking easily?"

"Oh, sure," Hermione says, pulling out her wand and casting a quick spell over it.

"So, what is that you caught there?" Draco says. "A nargle?"

"Don't be silly, Infinite Dragon," Luna says. "A nargle wouldn't fit in that bottle."

"It's Rita Skeeter," I say. "It would appear that she's an unregistered Animagus. And unless I completely miss my guess, she's been using this form for eavesdropping..."

"Really," Draco drawls, grinning as well.

"What are you going to do with her?" Hermione wonders.

"I'm going to show her that it was a bad idea to piss me off," I say, tucking the bottle away in my bag.

"Hey, Harry!" says Cedric, approaching us.

I cancel my spell and turn to him. "Good evening, Cedric," I say.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Cedric says, glancing at my friends.

"Sure," I say. "Sorry, Luna." She smiles at me dreamily, and I head off with Cedric. "What is it?"

"I really owe you one for telling me about the dragons," Cedric says. "I would have been toast otherwise."

"Don't mention it," I say.

"Have you figured out the golden egg yet?" Cedric says.

"Ugh," I say. "I entirely forgot about that. I've had a lot of other things on my mind lately."

"Yeah, getting married and all," Cedric says. "Congratulations, I think."

"Thanks, I think," I say.

"Anyway, with the egg," Cedric says. "Take a bath. Take the egg with you and think things over. It'll really help. You can even use the prefects' bathroom. The password is 'pine fresh'. Gotta run."

He leaves without bothering to tell me where the prefects' bathroom is. Oh well, I suppose I'll just look on the Marauder's Map. Silly Cedric. Well, I appreciate the thought, anyway. I'd feel awfully silly myself if we got to the time of the second task and I had no idea what was going on.