Harry Potter: New World

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Back at Hogwarts, I began another training session.

The day of the third task began with a nice sunny morning. Even though I was exempt from exams, I took them with everyone else. Together with Hermione and under the keen guidance of Lady Greengrass, many charms of various kinds were practiced. Delphine considered me an overcautious person because, with my level, this labyrinth is an easy walk.

The sad news is that Delphine hasn't found a way to extract the Horcrux from Potter. So, no matter how it sounds, I need to let Voldemort be reborn so that he has already found a body and does not fly everywhere in spirit, plotting intrigues for everyone. In canon, he was fixated on being reborn with Potter's help. If he doesn't revive now, who knows what cunning plan he'll come up with later and how many people will die in the process? What if it will be students? To hell with the adults - it's their choice to be Muggles with a wand or wizards capable of standing up for themselves, but children? There is no unambiguously correct answer or course of action here.

At breakfast, I began to feel nervous. Not from the task ahead, not from anything else. I was questioning my choices. And even my Graves-style costume didn't fit right somehow, though that was a completely contrived feeling - I checked everything.

"How could they restrict you in spells," Hermione was quietly indignant. But, of course, I had notified her of this a month ago. Based on the ban on transgression, we had planned our training.

"Don't worry. I'll pass like a knife through butter."

"I'm not talking about the possibility of losing. I don't doubt that. About the prohibition itself. Bringing you down to the level of the others because you're better. That's bullshit."

"I don't care."

From the high table, Professor McGonagall headed toward us.

"Mr. Knight, Mr. Potter. All tournament participants will gather after breakfast in the room adjacent to the hall."

"But the competition doesn't start until tonight!" frightened Potter, dropping a piece of food on himself.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. The families of the Tournament participants have gathered in the room. They are invited to watch the last task. And you can spend all day with yours today."

McGonagall turned and left, and Harry stared after her in shock.

"Does she really think the Dursleys are coming here?" he asked into nowhere.

"Technically," I decided to clarify the situation. "You and I have many relatives. I live with ordinary people, too, after all."

"What relatives?"

"Don't you know the family trees even a little bit? You could have wondered about your ancestors. Through the Blacks and Potters, your closest relatives are Narcissa Malfoy, Draco, Andromeda Tonks, Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black, Bellatrix Lestrange. More distant relatives are the Weasleys in the line of both Molly Weasley, maiden name Pruett, and Arthur Weasley. The French branch of the Rosiers, and someone else, I can't remember them all."

Now Harry was looking at me dumbfounded, but this time Ron looked just as dumbfounded.

" So, we're bros?" the redhead wondered. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed an equally shocked Ginny.

"Well, through the third knee. The closest living ones are, like I said, the Black sisters: Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix. The rest are through the thirtieth knee."

"Then why did I ever live with Muggles?"

"You were hidden. Your wizarding relatives are the obvious place to look for you. And if they could have given you to anyone, it would have been Andromeda. Narcissa, you know, Malfoy. Bellatrix is in Azkaban and is an ardent follower of Voldemort. So, yeah..."

"Fabulous absurdity!" exclaimed Ron indignantly. "I could have known Harry from the cradle! Okay! I still have to pass the history of magic, so I'm gonna run. You people should too!"

"Tell me later who came to see you," Hermione smiled and headed off to take the exam, too. I would have liked to take it too, but curiosity gnawed at me, and liberation, oddly enough, liberates.

Throwing the strap of my bag over my shoulder, I walked with Potter to the door of the said room. Once inside, I glanced around the familiar room from the Champs' selection. Fleur talked with the parents I had already seen on the last task, and little Gabrielle was holding the woman's hand. Krum was standing next to a black-haired man and a woman. A plump red-haired lady actively waved her hand to Potter, next to whom stood a red-haired guy I had already seen in Egypt with long hair, a leather jacket, and boots made of the same leather but already a dragon. Such an abundance of leather reminded me of the need to deal with the basilisk pelt that lay aimlessly in the bag over my shoulder. Potter, by the way, delighted, immediately appeared next to the Weasleys. No wonder. My gaze was fixed on the statuesque lady, no less. Thick brown hair, posture, and a proud but calm face without a single sign of age. A long beige dress and a black robe, not at all in the English fashion. Even if there were questions about who she is, they all disappeared due to the presence of a pink-haired person in something familiar leather clothes next to her. It was to them that I headed.