Chapter Text
“This for french”
“This for english”
Henri sat on a sofa in the main room of their carriage, waiting for Madame to order the ascent. They had crossed the border of England an hour ago and were due at Hogwarts any minute. He and six other boys shared one of the large rooms while the girls were in the other. The last belonged to Madame Maxime. It was only a temporary facility for the journey, and they had brought each their own magic tent for their stay, just in case the rooms assigned to the castle didn't suit them. Henri was sure he would use his tent anyway, as he had brought a whole library and something extra in it. Like his classmates, he had a great deal of self-study to do with his subjects. He was fortunate enough to be the youngest, so he knew he always had someone on hand who could give advice.
“Here we are,” said the headmistress, and Henri got up quickly to set up the ascent with the boys for Madame and the girls. Henri had cast heating spells on his clothes as they crossed the border, and he saw his classmates wishing they had imitated him when the cold, acrid air hit them. But they were also too proud to simply take out their wands and cast them out in front of a crowd of students in black uniforms.
Henri wasn't sure what the applause meant, but he imitated his classmates and straightened up even more. Henri, as instructed, took Madame Maxime's left side, while Fleur took her right. Madame might have not about to give Henri secret away, or so Henri hoped, but she didn't want to pass up the opportunity to be seen with him as a favourite student, if it got out. Henri didn't blame her, much, because that was how politics worked. And Madame was as ambitious as anyone.
Henri stood obediently beside her as she greeted Dumbledore, using everything he had learned in Etiquette and Drama lessons to keep from reacting to his old headmaster. And he might have cheated with Occlumency shields a little, but no one knew that. Until they tried to get inside his head. Which they had no reason to do.
Yes, Henri was a little nervous about it, and he didn't look importantly at the crowd of students with red ties.
"These are my students," said Madame, with a thick accent, and waved at the crowd, led by Henri and Fleur, who was holding his arm. Which she didn't have to do, technically, but Henri was warm, which she certainly took advantage of. She relaxed a little when Dumbledore offered to take them inside to warm up. Madame asked about the horses first, though. Madame didn't trust Hagrid very much, and that made the stalls in the cold longer.
"I'll go with the horses," he offered, to speed things up. He spoke deliberately in French, unsure of how much his voice had changed in the last three years.
Madame smiled at him with approval and nodded her thanks. She offered a middle ground, and Dumbledore agreed.
Henri waited until his classmates had disappeared into the castle before he made his way to the carriage, unstrapping the masts in a practiced rhythm. Then he tapped the carriage, it shrank to the size of a small toy and he put it in a pocket next to his trunk. Before he could try to ask where to take the horses, Hagrid appeared, indicating with his hands where to take them. Their horses were used to him, so they obeyed without difficulty the one-word commands Henri gave them as he guided them.
He ignored the students' stares, and didn't have to for long, for then the ship from Durmstrang appeared.
"You're good with them," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, I spend a lot of time with them," said Henri. The voice test was perfect on Hagrid, for even if he recognised it, he would have thought he'd misheard. Fortunately, Henri's voice seemed to have changed with puberty enough to make it unrecognisable.
"Oh, do you speak English?" said Hagrid, surprised. He led Henri towards his hut, where the stables were built, as if Dumbledore had been expecting the horses. And perhaps he had.
"I doubt Madame would take us to a country where we couldn't make a conversations," he replied dryly, and Hagrid laughed.
"True! True, that makes sense. I won't tell on you," he promised, reminding Henri why Hagrid was one of his favorite adults. Though he couldn't keep a secret, so he figured he'd spill the beans eventually. It was the nature that counted, though.
"Thank you. My name is Henri," he offered the man his hand, and the man squeezed it as gently as he could, which wasn't very gentle, but he tried. While Hagrid explained that although he was a professor (which was how? when? why?), everyone called him only Hagrid, Henri was preparing the horses in the corral for stowing. He levitated them the right amount of oats, from where Hagrid kept them, and found that Dumbledore certainly knew how they traveled to England, because he'd prepared it all. He poured them a wiskey from their own supply in the carriage (he had to enlarge it, fetch the wiskey barrels and shrink it again), and finally made a thermal wards around the stables. He patted Rán's mouth affectionately before walking away.
"You really know how to look after them," said Hagrid, astonished, as he led Henri back to the castle.
"All of us who took the riding lessons can do it, the professor insisted," said Henri. Of their group, only he and Fleur were in those lessons, so he offered not to freeze the girl.
"A fine professor," said Hagrid, and Henri nodded in agreement. He hoped he could ride the Hogwarts grounds, or he would miss it.
When they returned to the castle and Hagrid directed them to the Great Hall, Henri quickly joined his classmates at the Ravenclaw Table. Fleur gave him a kiss on the cheek as a thank-you, before going out in search of another bowl of bouillabaisse, which Henri had missed because of his sacrifice.
He watched the red-haired boy stammer over Fleur's request for a bowl with a curious amusement. And the ensuing slap Hermione had given him when Fleur turned and started back towards them.
"You did it on purpose," he clucked in mock disapproval. He saw all the boys turn to look at the girl, even those who had not been looking at her before, and he was sure she had used her veela spell just to have a dramatic walk.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she winked at him, handing him the bowl as she settled down. Henri's mouth twitched, but he kept the smile off his face. He gladly helped himself to the soup and listened to the students' awareness that at least Fleur had veela ancestry.
—
Henri and the other six boys were bunked together in a large room. He and the other six boys looked at each other before, as one, they pulled out their tents and set them around the perimeter of the room, while the beds they were supposed to sleep on were shrunk and placed in a corner. They were used to their own space, each to themselves, and they didn't want to limit themselves. Henri would have mastered the common space two years ago, but he had also gotten used to the private space.
He spread out his tent, from Danielle and Sirius for his birthday that year, and immediately crawled under the black cloth and pulled it behind him. The private wards were activated by this, and Henri could scream murder inside, and no one would know. Relieved, he went straight into the shower and washed off the smell of travel. It wasn't too late, so he took a textbook on Magic Theory to read.
In the end he was only allowed to study six subjects, instead of the usual seven, because he had offered to help with Dance Classes while still at Beauxbatons and was the only one of the seventh year at Hogwarts, so he had relief. It was sometimes nice to take advantage of these reliefs when it was given to him for his own merits.
Besides, he had been offered to attend the Ancient Runes beginner's class at Hogwarts, so he wanted to at least have a look.
But he read the book for only an hour before he gave up taking notes with a self-writing quill and went to bed. The next day they were all to gather in the Great Hall to apply together.
Which they did in the morning. As soon as they had eaten, they stood as one in a circle around the goblet and all but Henri threw their names there on a scrap of pale blue paper cut out like a fan.
Henri could see, out of the corner of his eye, how Hermione, who had grown into beauty and had her teeth fixed, was watching the process with interest. When they were done, they set off, this time armoured with warming spells. Madame wasn't going to neglect their horses when they were in another country, so they all went to them and assigned services to check them out. Fleur and Henri were left to ride with them, as the others would only risk falling and crashing. Henri didn't really mind, and he and Fleur planned a schedule for every other day after lunch. There were only four horses, so it didn't have to take more than an hour, half an hour's ride each.
They were to start the next day, to give the horses a good rest after their long journey.
—
"Hello, Sirius," said Henri, greeting his godfather in the mirror. "You won't believe what just happened," he added with a conspiratorial smile. This Sirius imitated and asked for a story.
"Someone put the name Harry Potter in the goblet! And it exploded as soon as he was chosen the champion!" laughed Henri. Frankly, he wasn't surprised that anyone had tried, not after discovering that once the goblet had chosen someone, the person had to compete and would be forced to by magic itself. Even if it meant that the person would have to appear on the first task without being close enough to the arena.
Sirius laughed with him. Suspecting that by reintroducing the Tournament, the British Ministry might have tried to find Harry Potter, he did everything he could to delay the Tournament, unsure how the magic of the goblet would react to Henri's new name. If, despite the change, he would had to compete, or if the cup would refuse the name of someone who no longer existed.
And now they had the answer!
"Do you think they'll try to insist that Harry Potter is a champion?" asked Henri. Sirius had studied the rules and the goblet until he was sure they were no threat to Henri, so he knew them better than Bagman. As a member of the ICW, he had access to it.
"They can persist all they want, but if they send for the curse-breaker, they'll find that logging in a non-existent name was the reason for destruction of the goblet!" explained Sirius, a broad smile still on his face. It might have been a little mean, even morbid, but they both laughed about it anyway. The joy of being two steps ahead of whatever the corrupt British Ministry could think up was too much.
Henri wasn't sure why Sirius was so afraid of the Tournament, and insisted that Henri wasn't allowed to compete, with an almost paranoid conviction. Not that he wanted to be part of it, he'd had enough of deadly adventures in his lifetime. In the back of his head, something told him that Sirius didn't think he could win, but he quieted the voice before it could get any more power. Sirius trusted him, and in his abilities. He'd been amazed at Henri's talent with curses and duelling when they'd tried a duel in the summer. And Sirius was a former Auror, so that meant something.
Sirius just didn't want anything to happen to him, like the paternal figure he was.
"Well, that's about the events of today. Any clues for a partial animal transformation, bird bones in particular?" he asked, pulling out his Transformation book. Sirius knew a lot about animal transformations, and when he helped Henri study, he threw in the stories of his years at school with Henri's dad, mum and their friends. Henri loved those moments with his godfather.
—
Henri looked curiously around the corridors, which had not changed at all in three years, while half the students were different. Ron and Ginny were the last of the Weasley family to be at Hogwarts, Oliver and Henri's original team was gone, only Katie Bell was left, and from the badge he had seen at breakfast that morning, she was the captain. While at Hogwarts, he had decided to devote himself to one subject each day in a really intense way, and after the first three hours spent on Potions, he decided to take a walk before meeting Fleur at the stables.
He was on the first floor, walking, wondering if he should visit the library and see if he could find any books he hadn't found in France. Or try to sneak into a restricted section.
"Sorry, do you need help finding your way?" asked a girl's voice on Henri's right. This surprised him, he wasn't sure if anyone at Hogwarts knew French. But after looking at the familiar girl with the frizzy brown hair, he got the message. He remembered that Hermione's parents had taken her abroad regularly on holidays.
"Hello, miss, yes, I could use a hand. Could you show me to the ground floor?" he asked, smiling a little at Ron, who was standing nearby looking glum. "Your boyfriend doesn't like me," he added, cocking his head to one side and trying to keep his face blank as Hermione blushed.
"Just a friend! We're just friends! And don't mind him, Ron's an idiot. I'm Hermione Granger," she said, reaching out to him, and Henri took her hand and, like a true gentleman, turned it back up and kissed the air above it in a bow.
"It's a pleasure, Miss Granger. I'm Henri Noir," he returned the introduction as he straightened up. He'd left out his first surname because Hermione was clever enough to have joined Nicolas Flamel and his Philosopher's Stone at eleven, so he didn't want to risk it. Yet.
Hermione was blushing again, and Ron pushed away from the wall against which he was leaning and made his way towards them with a very expressive stride. "And before your friend gets even angrier, which way to the ground floor and the grounds? I've got to atend the horses," he asked quickly.
"Left to the staircase and then right, and at the end of the corridor to the courtyard. It runs north from there," she explained, pointing to the north tower of the castle as a landmark.
"Thank you very much," said Henri, and went out as instructed.
"What did he say to you? Why did he kiss your hand?" Henri could hear Ron's sharp questions as he turned a corner and allowed himself to grin with delight in the privacy of the empty corridor. It was really fun to pick on people like that. Maybe Sirius rubbed on him too much.
"What did you do?" asked Fleur, upon seeing his broad smile. She was waiting for him at the stables, dressed in riding clothes. Henri was a little late because he was changing clothes and it took him a while to find a ribbon to tie his hair with. Finally he had to conjure one. When they became too long, he was ordered to tie them up like girls. Luckily he didn't have to have braids, and a simple ponytail on the back of his neck was enough.
"Just chatted with a girl whose not boyfriend was jealous," he replied innocently, buttoning his helmet under his chin. "Want to try to go to the Rán?" he suggested, and prepared to go to Aine, a white mare usually taken for rides of more uncertain riders.
"Forget it, you go yourself!" she said at once, and with the gate open she went straight to Aine and threw the saddle she had taken out of her pocket and enlarged on her back. Then she began to tie the harness.
"Why is she so afraid of you, friend? You're such a sweetheart," Henri said to the black stallion, repeating what Fleur had done and prepared him. Rán snorted his agreement, and Henri laughed.
"Race?" he suggested to his classmate, but she rejected him again. She explained that they didn't know the climate and had no track to use. Henri translated that as not wanting to ruin her nails, especially not now that she was a Champion.
Henri only pursed his lips and kicked Rán in the groin, urging him to sprint.
The cold air suddenly seemed so much colder when it hit him in the face and ears. He raised himself at the knees to get a better position on Rán's back and he began to run. Regular impacts of Rán's legs calmed Henri and he could barely hear over the wind in his ears. Henri directed him to the Black Lake because it was the best landmark on the grounds, one not counting the Forbidden Forest, which he and Rán weren't going anywhere near.
As Rán began to warm up, Henri loosened his reins and the horse accelerated even more. The grounds of the school became a grey-green blur in the edges of Henri's eyes and with a rush of adrenaline he began to sense the surroundings much faster. After three years of riding on Rán they were well synchronised, and as one zigzagged through the trees on the other side of the lake. They never lost the surface of the water for a moment, to stay on the route. They breathed the same and moved the same. Henri loved the feeling.
As they began to return to the castle, Henri directed Ran to extend the circuit around it. He was sure the students were not crowding around because they were in the classrooms. But he hadn't counted on Care of Magical Creatures class.
As they crossed the main road leading to Hogsmeade, and continued along the circuit, they passed Hagrid's hut and stables and were planning to begin the second round when Henri noticed a group of students standing with Hagrid just outside the Black Lake.
Henri reined in and forced Rán to slow to a trot so that he had a good view of the class. They were younger students, most likely third- or fourth-years, depending on their height relative to Hagrid.
Hagrid waved at him and motioned him to stop by. Henri did so and waved back when he stopped. Rán wasn't pleased with him, he wanted to continue running but after a firm tightening of the reins he obeyed. Although he whinnied with discontent.
"Henri! A nice ride? Good, good," said Hagrid, smiling at him. Henri knew from the students' puzzled expressions that their secret had not yet been revealed. "Listen, I was talking to Madame Maxime about the possibility of showing our students how to ride horses, and she said I should turn to you since Delacour is Champion," he began, a little sheepishly, scratching his beard. "And that you have an Uncle Brit, so you're perfect for us," he added.
Henri was sure Madame had done it on purpose, and if he hadn't been in front of twenty students from all the colleges he would have smacked himself across the forehead. "I'd be happy to help, just give me your schedule and I'll see how it fits with my curriculum," he said in English, but he was still struggling for a thick accent. Henri was going to tell his classmates at Madame, giving him away like that!
Hagrid grinned and pulled a parchment out from under his coat. He tried to approach Rán, but Rán reared up. "Whoa-ho Ran, easy," he patted the stallion on the neck and continued to stroke even after he had returned to all four. "Sorry about that, Rán has a certain type of people he lets in and the others don't," he said to the class. Six Hufflepuffs looked a little shaken, while all seven Gryffindors looked a little too enthusiastic. The other two Ravenclaws and five Slytherins just watched, as if waiting to see what would happen next.
"What type?" asked Gryffindor, with a familiar face. Blond and round face.
"Those who challenge him should try to kick us and see what the retaliation will be," said Henri with a smirk. He jumped down from Rán and walked over to Hagrid to take the parchment with his lesson schedule. He looked at it with interest. Hagrid taught Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays, two hours on Wednesdays and one on the other days. He had only students from the third year up and all the Houses in one hour, so it wasn't such a strenuous schedule.
"Wednesdays and Fridays aren't a problem, but Tuesdays can be," he finally determined. This was because Tuesday was a class in the morning and Henri had arranged a consultation for Charms with a classmate. "I'll ask if it's possible to adjust my schedule and let you know. In the meantime, count me in on Wednesdays and Fridays," he said to Hagrid, getting back into the saddle. "And I'll take Aine and Niobe with me, you'll knock them off," he said to Rán, clucking and urging him to run. They had one more lap around the lake before Herri had to take Hector for a ride.