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Chapter Text

Every girl dreams of becoming a princess in childhood. To be beautiful as a flower, gentle and graceful, to live in a castle, enveloped in the love of a prince. Petunia Evans was no exception, she also dreamed of a handsome prince on a white horse, who would take her away as a beautiful princess to a huge castle with an incredible amount of decorations and gilding.

But life showed Petunia early on that not all girls can live in castles with princes, but only those who were “born a princess”. And she, Petunia, was not like that.

Unlike her younger sister, the red-haired smiling Lily, whom everyone always loved. Loved more than Petunia.

Petunia also tried to become special, to become a “princess”, so that her parents would smile at her tenderly and fulfill her wishes. So that she would also have unusual beautiful things and secrets that not everyone can know.

But Princess Lily and her nasty Prince Snape ridiculed her for her letter to the wizarding school. The letter they stole from her while rummaging through her things.

After that, Petunia decided that it was much better for her to be the most ordinary and normal, and not a strange princess who behaved so disgustingly with her own sister. She left her native Cokeworth for London to study, got a job there, and then met Vernon Dursley. He was the most ordinary, always dressed to the nines, thinking correctly and even predictable in his actions. Petunia was completely charmed by her non-prince and happily married him, settling in the most ordinary house in the most ordinary suburb of London and becoming part of the most ordinary family.

No crazy oddities, impudent extravagant "princesses" and their disgusting "princes".

But dreams of the beautiful and unattainable still lived in the depths of her heart. Not for herself, but for her daughter. Petunia dreamed of a beautiful little girl, whom she would dress in lovely dresses, teach her to speak softly and impeccably politely, with whom they would go shopping and cook together, tend the garden and run the household, read novels by Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte in the evenings and embroider floral patterns on handkerchiefs. Her little girl would definitely grow up to be a beauty and a real English lady, always remembering etiquette and politeness, able to grow the most beautiful garden in the whole city, baking pies on weekends and playing the violin in the evenings. These thoughts always brought a tender smile to Petunia's face.

But she had a son. Sweet Dudley, her precious treasure. Maybe not a daughter, but her and Vernon's son. Beloved and long-awaited.

Petunia hid her dreams of a daughter deep in her thoughts, trying to forget about them. She has Dudley, does she need anything else to be happy?

And no, Petunia is not at all jealous of her sister, who had a daughter. And she does not read Lily's letters not out of envy, locking them in a drawer, but out of dislike for her. Yes, that's right.

Perhaps, if she had read them in time, the baby found on the doorstep and the letter from the headmaster of the wizarding school would not have shocked her to the point of her knees giving way and tears escaping from her eyes.

Lily died defending her son. And now Headmaster Dumbledore asks her, Petunia, to take care of her nephew as if he were her own son.

The child that Petunia rocked in her arms, calming her down, was absolutely definitely a girl.

Yes, Petunia had long known that wizards were abnormal.

Looking with nascent tenderness into the bright green eyes of her niece, which reminded her of her distant childhood, when she still loved her younger sister, Petunia decided for herself that this child was now her daughter.

Vernon did not go against his beloved wife.

Petunia fed the baby and put her to bed, and then rushed to her sister's letters. They contained a lot of absolutely unnecessary information about the war in the wizarding world, about spells and everyday life, about Lily's husband's friends, about Headmaster Dumbledore. But there was also something useful.

The baby was named Henrietta Potter. Petunia chuckled, holding back tears, remembering how Lily had been engrossed in reading about Henrietta Maria of France, the wife of the King Charles I of England, with delight in her eyes as she talked about how beautiful she was and how romantic her true love with the king was. In the letters, her niece's full name was mentioned only once, the very first time. After that, it was first the male "Henry", to which Petunia winced in disgust, and then even "Harry".

If that's what her parents called the baby, then perhaps Petunia could understand why the wizards thought that her sister had a son. If "Harry" could still be an abbreviation for "Harriet" for a girl, then "Henry"...

Magic had definitely cooked all the brains in her little sister's head into an incomprehensible pink-vanilla porridge. With lumps of belligerence and abnormality.

Petunia still abandoned the idea of adopting her niece, deciding that it would be unfair to the girl, and that Petunia herself would not be suspected if Henrietta turned out to be the same as her parents - a wizard, strange.

For the first few months, Petunia would rush to Dudley and Henrietta almost every night to calm them down. The niece would cry at night and try to find her parents, and Dudley would wake up and cry "for the company." The children would fall asleep from the gentle female voice singing lullabies and the rhythmic rocking. Soon Henrietta, whom Petunia called by the affectionate abbreviation "Anri", stopped screaming at night. Vernon, who began to sleep peacefully and get enough sleep without waking up from the children's cries, finally accepted that their family now had a niece. Of course, he loved his own son much more, but if the niece did not cause problems, then why not.

Petunia's love for Dudley did not become less, on the contrary, this love seemed to have doubled, but now it was almost equally distributed between the children. Almost - because the future little lady needs to be given more attention. Dudley would grow up wonderful in any case, but Anri needed education and a good example.

Life in the Dursley family was calm and peaceful. Anri, who had become attached to her aunt who had taken her in, smiled happily at her and did not disturb the new family with magical emissions. Dudley was actively interested in his suddenly appeared sister. Vernon happily watched his son and worked, his career was on the rise. Petunia ran the household, reviving her plans for raising a little lady.

Vernon spoiled Dudley, allowing him to do whatever his heart desired, showering him with gifts and praise. This made the boy capricious and selfish, but he behaved more modestly with his mother and tried to adhere to decency at least a little - it was impossible to set an example of bad behavior for the little weak Anri, for which his mother could scold him. He treated his cousin like a beautiful expensive doll. He looked at her with interest, sometimes tried to tease her or involve her in his games, but did not allow anyone to touch her. Mom would be unhappy. Henrietta was Mom's doll, not his. Mom's toys cannot be broken.

Petunia taught Anri, taught her to be quiet and calm, to keep her emotions under control and always be impeccably polite. Not to be rude even in response to insults, and at the same time to be able to insult subtly and imperceptibly. So that it did not go beyond the bounds of politeness. And to do all this with a soft smile on her lips and a gentle voice. However, Anri did not like to insult anyone. She liked to come up with elegant compliments for her aunt more.

“Aunt Petunia, your singing today is like the sweet trill of a free nightingale among the most beautiful flowers in the royal garden. ”

Auntie's lips spread into a smile from such words, which pleased Anri. Auntie taught her to take care of the garden - by the age of six, Anri could take care of the roses near the house herself, which she willingly did every day, having asked her aunt for the opportunity to take care of them alone. Petunia nodded, letting her niece take charge of the garden. The girl helped her aunt with the cooking, diligently learning recipes and memorizing the family's tastes. While cooking, they often sang or discussed recipes, rose varieties, novels they read in the evenings, or the latest gossip in town. At the age of five, Anri began learning to play the violin, delighting her aunt.

And Petunia really felt happy, looking at her niece. She grew up to be a real lady, neat and polite, skillful and gentle. She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t run after the ball with the boys, like some of the girls in the neighborhood, always watched how she looked, diligently learned to play the violin and took care of the roses with sincere love.

“A rose is a flower that symbolizes England. How can you not love roses if you are English?” thought little Miss Potter, embroidering flowers with her aunt in the evening, trying not to prick all her fingers with a needle. “If roses bloom in English gardens, then England is flourishing.”

And the roses at the Dursley family’s house really did bloom profusely, delighting the owners of the house with a sweet scent and rich colors. Anri dug in the ground every day, watching them. And Petunia looked out of the kitchen window with pleasure, admiring the results of her niece’s labor. Their garden was the most beautiful in all of Privet Drive, something Petunia was immensely proud of.

Anri kept up with her schoolwork, asking her aunt for advice and helping Dudley with his homework in a calm, quiet voice. She wore dresses in delicate shades and always had sparkling clean shoes. She gathered her curly black hair into a neat braid, with her bangs covering the lightning-shaped scar on her forehead.

Petunia looked at her little lady with pride, realizing that she had managed to raise not a capricious, nasty princess like her sister, but a true English lady, gentle as a violet and beautiful as a rose.

And that is why receiving a letter from the wizarding school Hogwarts addressed to Harry Potter upset her so much. So much effort and time, so much tenderness and care she had invested in raising the delicate flower Anri, and now she had to let her go to this terrible place full of oddities all alone? Her delicate flower would be trampled, ruined, torn out by the roots!..

“Don’t worry, Aunt Petunia,” Anri put her snow-white hand with neat fingers on her shoulder with a soft smile, looking into her eyes with her bright green eyes, the color of fresh summer grass. “This is just an invitation to school, I don’t see anything worse in it than a slightly burnt side of a pie. Not very pleasant, but not as bad as it could have been. Let’s ask Dudley to catch one of the owls flying around our house and send a letter of consent, as indicated in the invitation?”

The owls categorically refused to give themselves into Dudley's hands. Therefore, Miss Potter, holding back her irritation, collected the arriving letters in bags addressed to someone other than her, intending to figure out what to do with such a large number of letters and envelopes, which were made of real parchment. It would be a pity to waste such a large amount of material that would be useful in the long run, simply throwing it away. In extreme cases, the letters could be recycled. Dudley, at Anri's request, also collected and brought her fallen owl feathers, of which there had recently become an incredible number around their house, for which he was thanked with a sincere smile and his favorite freshly baked cookies. Anri washed Uncle Vernon's car, which was dirty from the owls constantly flying around, herself, bringing the surface to a mirror shine, so that Uncle would not be angry.

When, in the middle of the night before her eleventh birthday, someone began to pound on the door with all their might and shout demands to open it, Anri was able to remain calm only thanks to her aunt's discipline. No one would like to be torn from a warm bed in such a truly barbaric manner when he was enjoying pleasant dreams after a hard day.

With miracles of endurance and patience, Anri invited the uninvited guest to sit down and brought everyone hot tea with cakes, quickly tidying herself up along the way - straightening her clothes and putting on a dressing gown, gathering her hair into a simple braid and splashing water on her face in the kitchen. The girl listened attentively to the guest with a soft smile, silently sipping tea from a cup.

“But Mr. Hagrid, sir,” Potter objected, waiting for the guest to finish speaking, “we were unable to send a reply letter, since the post owls flew away immediately after delivering the letter. If necessary, I can bring you the letter we wanted to send,” she put the cup on the table, putting her hands on her knees. “I agree to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but I would like to know more about where and how I can buy what is indicated in the letter, as well as clarify the amount required for this. ”

Confused, Hagrid promised to pick her up in the morning and take her to Diagon Alley to do some shopping. There was also a bank there, where it turned out she had an account with a sufficient amount of money.

After cleaning up after the night tea party and wishing her family a good night, Henrietta Potter only allowed herself to exhale tiredly and slightly irritatedly in her room behind the closed door. Yes, no one likes uninvited guests at night. But this is no reason and certainly no excuse to show them your displeasure, as well as to anyone else. And now she still has a few hours to sleep. Tomorrow she will need all her self-control to save face during the journey along the magical street in the company of Mr. Hagrid.

Potter suppressed all unflattering epithets in his direction even in her thoughts. At least, she tried to do so.

The magical street struck Henri. But not with its beauty and unusual things, but with dirt, an unpleasant smell and unkempt-looking people. Sure, the shops were clean and looked quite inviting, and not all the people looked like… poor commoners in the ancient Middle Ages, but if Potter had had a little less tact, she would certainly have covered her face with a clean handkerchief with hand embroidery on the corner.

Perhaps the only completely pleasant impression she had was left by the bank. A beautiful clean room, good organization, polite staff, fast service. Even the fact that the bank staff were goblins did not bother Anri. They looked unusual, but, honestly, you don’t scold someone for their face. It was difficult to call the goblins attractive in appearance, but they were neatly dressed, spoke politely and behaved much more decently than some of the people she knew. Miss Potter was imbued with sympathy for the bank employees, smiling at them a little more sincerely than at Mr. Hagrid and the shop assistants.

Particularly sympathetic was the look the bank employee gave Mr. Hagrid when it turned out that he had the key to Henri’s vault. It was impolite, but it reflected Miss Potter’s true thoughts - why was the key to Miss Potter’s vault in Mr. Hagrid’s hands and not hers?

And yes, the wizards stubbornly called her "Mr. Potter" or "Harry Potter" and only the goblin from the bank addressed her as "Miss Potter". It would have been impolite to correct everyone, so Anri tried to hint to those around her that she was not "Mr.", but did not say it directly. The wizards did not understand hints.

Yes, she definitely liked the goblins more.

When everything on the list was bought, and Mr. Hagrid gave her a snow-white post owl in honor of her birthday, she was given a train ticket to school and ... left alone in the middle of an unfamiliar street with a large heavy trunk and a cage with an owl.

No, Anri Potter did not allow herself to click her tongue in displeasure, roll her eyes or look around in fear. She was too well brought up and too well controlled for that.

Miss Potter glanced around at the people around her, struggling with herself for a few seconds - a lady never speaks to strangers - and, to her relief, saw the boy who had introduced himself to her in the clothes shop. He was walking towards her in the company of a distinguished man with long blond hair and a beautiful woman. After waiting for them to come closer, Anri took a step forward and, looking down, modestly addressed the boy.

“I apologize for disturbing you, Mr. Malfoy, but could you help me please? Unfortunately, my escort had to leave me, and I am afraid I am not able to cope with the trunk on my own. Could you, if you do not mind, advise me on what to do next? ”

“Father, Mother, ” the boy turned to his parents, “let me introduce you to Henrietta Potter, she is entering Hogwarts this year, like me. Miss Potter,” Draco Malfoy returned his gaze to her, “these are my parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, albeit under these circumstances,” Henri bowed her head in greeting and lifted the edges of her dress skirt, curtsying slightly.

Mr. Malfoy Sr. kindly helped her by casting a weight-reducing charm on her trunk. Thanking him, Miss Potter headed out of Diagon Alley, where her aunt was already waiting for her.

The wizarding world seemed strange and unusual to Miss Potter, but no more so than any other culture. And customs are not judged. Especially if you have to spend some time - at least five years - among the people of this culture. Therefore, Anri only smiled reassuringly at Aunt Petunia and, glancing at the beautiful polar owl, headed home, mentally preparing herself for the trip to Hogwarts.

The wizarding world, extolling the Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter, was about to meet little Lady Henrietta Potter.

Chapter Text

Henrietta Potter sat in the train compartment with her back perfectly straight and her hands neatly folded on her knees, looking out the window with a detached expression.

Her thoughts were occupied by the strange wizards she had seen today, the strange passage to platform nine and three-quarters, which even had strange numbers, the landscapes rushing past the window, and tea.

The latter was what worried her most at the moment, since the aromatic hot tea brewed by Aunt Petunia was in a thermos, and there was nothing to drink it from, although she really wanted to enjoy the pleasant floral aroma and the sweetness of two sugar cubes. But ladies do not drink from thermos lids. Anri already regretted that she had ignored Dudley's playful offer to take a porcelain tea set or at least a cup and saucer with her, with a soft smile. Yes, she also refused the offer to take a disposable cup for coffee.

It is not proper for a lady to drink from such a thing either.

The girl had some money, but while she was looking for a free compartment, she did not see anything that even remotely resembled a dining car or something similar. And there were serious doubts whether it was even possible to get boiling water anywhere here.

Indeed, why would you need food and drinks on a train that had already been traveling for more than five hours and would probably not arrive at its destination anytime soon. Especially if there was a crowd of children and teenagers from eleven to eighteen years old on it.

Anri suppressed a disgruntled sigh, reaching for one of the Jane Austen novels she had brought with her. Yes, this would definitely distract her...

"Sorry," a red-haired boy appeared in the doorway, whom she had already seen on the platform. Oh, this platform nine and three quarters... If it weren't for this boy's family, Henri would never have guessed that she needed to go straight into the column between the platforms. True, this boy's brothers and he himself literally ran into the column, but... Ladies don't run. And especially, they don't run into the wall. So Henrietta calmly walked up to the column with a calm and independent look and walked through it, finding herself on the right platform, "do you mind?.." He glanced sideways at the seat opposite her and looked back into the aisle between the compartments. "All the seats are already taken."

With a soft, polite smile, Anri bowed her head and waved her hand in the direction of this very seat in an inviting gesture. Talking to strangers is not allowed, but such a simple gesture is allowed, isn't it? Especially since he is just a fellow traveler on a train where there are no more seats. To throw him out or ignore him would be more rude than to talk to him when they are not yet acquainted. The book was tactfully put aside, and between the pages Anri placed a piece of lace ribbon, which served as a bookmark.

The boy walked freely into the compartment and plopped down on the seat, sprawling.

"I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley," he introduced himself casually.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley," Henri answered politely, not removing the smile from her face. "My name is Henrietta Potter."

"Oh, Henrietta, your last name is just like Harry Potter!" He leaned towards her, his eyes shining. "Have you seen him, by the way?"

There was a desire to point out to the boy that they had known each other for less than five minutes and that she had not given permission to call her by her first name, but Anri only pursed her lips slightly in displeasure and shook her head. No, she did not know any Harry Potter. And the fact that wizards called her that was not her problem. Harry was not her name. And she was not a boy. Henrietta was not going to encourage wizards with their "Harry Potter" and "Mr. Potter."

"Would you like to buy anything?" a woman with a trolley of sweets looked into the compartment.

Glancing around the trolley and seeing only Christmas candy canes and caramel apples from the familiar sweets and not noticing any drinks to find a dish from which she could drink tea, Anri again politely refused, shaking her head, not forgetting to smile.

Lollipops and caramel apples are too difficult to eat neatly, so only on exceptional occasions - for Christmas, for example, or a birthday. And better - behind the closed doors of your own room.

Towards the end of the trip, it was completely dark outside, and Henrietta was tired. From the trip, and from the lack of tea, and from the company of Ron Weasley and his rat, which the girl diligently ignored. As long as this creature does not approach her, Anri can tolerate its presence in the same room with her. With difficulty, but she can. That was about the rat, by the way.

On the way, a first-year girl looked into the compartment, looking for someone's escaped toad. Her words were, generally speaking, polite, but her behavior itself ... Anri mentally winced. Hermione Granger was ... arrogant? a snob? pompous? .. Anri could not find the right word to describe her. She was mocking, patronizing, and pronounced her words with deliberate correctness and slightly drawn-out vowels. At the same time, she looked unkempt, her hair was loose and disheveled. Anri tried hard to push away from her mind the image of Aunt Petunia's straw kitchen broom, which looked very similar.

In addition, Miss Granger had made a terrible mistake, in Фnri's opinion - she had pointed out to Mr. Weasley the dirty spot on his nose very directly and completely without any tact. It was possible to tell him about it much more gently, unobtrusively and evasively. Or it would have been better to remain silent altogether, as Henrietta herself had done.

The only thing Miss Granger could be thanked for was reminding Mr. Weasley about the need to change into his school uniform. Henrietta, who had initially arrived in a robe that looked like a cloak or a large coat, tactfully left, allowing Mr. Weasley to change his outfit.

It was dark and cool outside, and the path went through the forest and was full of potholes and roots coming out of the ground. The only source of light was the lantern in Mr. Hagrid's hands, almost all the light from which was blocked by the massive figure of the man walking in front.

Henrietta, despite the chill, lifted the hem of her buttoned robe with both hands and tried to walk as slowly and evenly as before, without losing her dignity. If there had been at least one boy with a sense of gallantry nearby, who would have given her a hand and helped her walk, it would have been much easier. But alas.

The castle, glowing with lights reflected in the black waters of the lake, impressed her. Beautiful. It would have been a picture or an illustration for a fairy tale about princesses. No, it was too gloomy and dark for princesses. But for some count or duke, it was just right. They give balls in this, the warm light of the fire illuminates the room, live music sounds in this, couples in beautiful dresses whirl in this. In such castles there do not live gentle light princesses, but some warrior who earned his glory on the battlefield and celebrated the victory with luxury and scope, happy that he survived and won. He would sit on the dais with a soft smile with a glass of wine and watch the dancing and merry guests. He would be dressed in dark, and on his shoulders there would be a cape with lush black shiny fur, he would be in military boots with low heels, always ready to enter the battle. And then his attention, perhaps, would be attracted by one of the ladies in the hall. Not a naive girl, shyly smiling at simple flirting, but a confident and self-sufficient lady who could stand next to him as an equal and support, and not just look admiringly, listening to compliments.

In her fantasies, Anri missed the equally uncomfortable path along the lake and from it to the large doors inside the castle. She came to only when the doors opened and she saw a hall similar to the one she had just imagined. Half-dark, lit by candles, and at the far end on a dais there really was a throne. But the throne stood in the center of the teachers' table, and the hall was full not of dancing couples in ball gowns, but of schoolchildren in dark robes.

Miss Potter let go of her fantasies with an inaudible and imperceptible sigh, turning her attention to the night starry sky visible under the ceiling. Magic. Beautiful. As if someone had scattered billions of small diamonds on black velvet. You won’t see anything like that in the city.

Anri didn’t like being sorted into Houses. She was hungry, tired and a little cold. She wanted to sit down and have a bite to eat or at least drink some hot tea, finally, and not stand under the gaze of all the first-years present in the crowd, equally tired, hungry and cold, and wait for Professor McGonagall to call her name, after which she should sit on an old stool and put on an old talking hat, which after an indefinite amount of time would decide which of the four Houses to send the student to. And only then would she finally be able to sit down. And look pitifully at the absolutely empty table with the same absolutely empty plates.

"Potter, Harry!" the professor proclaimed.

Anri remained where she was, naively hoping that Harry was still somewhere here and that they had simply been confused. But no, there was an awkward, even tense silence in the hall.

"Harry Potter?" the woman repeated questioningly, carefully examining the first-years.

Everyone in the hall was looking around the crowd of first-years for the Boy-Who-Lived. The teachers were staring at the children, and the first-years themselves were exchanging surprised, confused glances. Henrietta raised an eyebrow in displeasure, but did not show her displeasure in any other way.

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall called out angrily and excitedly.

This would have been a good chance to declare that she was not "Mr.", but... It would have been impolite. "I beg your pardon, but you are all idiots because I am not Harry and I am not a boy" - is that it? Henrietta Potter would never say such a thing!

So, pursing her lips in displeasure, she stepped forward with dignity, slowly approached the stool in the deathly silence and sat down on it. A talking hat descended on her black hair.

The hat was polite and courteous, which made Anri allow herself the thought that magical objects, it turns out, can be better mannered and smarter than their creators, causing a good laugh from the hat. Which, of course, perfectly recognized that in front of her was not "Mr. Potter", but "Miss Potter". The hat read Henrietta's thoughts, which was not entirely tactful, but much better than if she had to talk to the hat out loud. They had a nice conversation, exchanging pleasantries, discussing the good appearance of the Hat for her age and the comfort of Miss Potter's head, as well as her exemplary upbringing. The Hat shared its opinion about Miss Potter's character and its thoughts about the House, and told a little about what awaits her in each House and how it differs in general.

The Hat advised Slytherin or Ravenclaw. In the first, Henrietta would be able to get her hands on power, authority and respect, her character would be tempered and become stronger, she would be able to achieve any of her goals and find allies. In the second, Henrietta would be able to maintain her individuality and neutrality in confrontations, she would be able to develop in the directions that she liked, behave as she felt necessary and be who she wanted.

The whole hall was nervous, tensely looking at Potter, who had been sitting for about five minutes, who had not yet been assigned anywhere. And suddenly the Hat shook itself and even with some pride  proclaimed:

"Ravenclaw!"

Blue is the color of freedom and independence, the color of strong-willed people who stand out from the faceless crowd, the color of a clear cloudless sky. Henri always liked blue and for good reason — it was the color of Ravenclaw, which she liked more than Slytherin. Why did she need power and strength if she could not be who she wanted? What if she has to step over herself and do something that goes against her principles?

The blue color of the House patch on her robe is the color of pride and dignity that Henrietta Potter will not lose in any situation. It is the color of her independence and individuality.

And Henrietta respectfully removes the Hat, bowing her head before it before leaving for the table under the blue flags with the image of an eagle.

The eagle is the bird of pride and kings.

Yes, she definitely made the right choice.

With a soft smile, Miss Potter waits for the end of the sorting and the speech of Headmaster Dumbledore, after which she frowns slightly when food appears on the table. Lots of fatty food, unhealthy, heavy. And the hungry children pounce on it, putting everything and more on their plates for themselves.

Anri stealthily looks at the neighboring tables. Slytherin eats quietly and with dignity, not forgetting about manners and table etiquette. Chaos reigns in Gryffindor, somewhere there they even throw food and, judging by the sounds, talk with their mouths full. From Hufflepuff you can hear cheerful laughter and advice to try such and such a dish, but the atmosphere there is warm and cozy, they do not forget about manners, but do not dwell on them either.

The Ravenclaw table resembles an international gathering. There is no community, everyone is in themselves and everyone seems to be for themselves. Someone is engrossed in food, someone is immersed in reading, someone is sleeping, and someone is chatting. The girl next to Anri, also a first-year, is weaving a bracelet of a complex shape with beautiful beads.

Despite the disunity of the House, Anri smiles softly. As the Hat said, individuality.

"Green beans, Potter?" a senior boy turns to her, holding a plate with the said dish.

She doesn't like such familiarity, but the boy is sincere and she really wants beans, so she nods with a soft and slightly more sincere smile than she should, holding out her plate to him.

After dinner, they are led through confusing corridors and moving staircases. Ghosts fly around, living portraits hang on the walls. When a young girl in one of the portraits curtsies to greet them, Anri makes a short curtsey, politely inclining her head. The girl's eyes in the portrait beam with satisfaction, and Miss Potter moves on.

The House common room is in the tower, it is decorated in pleasant and relaxing shades of blue and light blue, and you just want to spend at least an hour or two in it, immersing yourself in your thoughts or an interesting book. They were introduced to the prefects of the House, told a little about the House itself, about the Head - Professor Flitwick, who teaches Charms. And they showed the directions to the towers with the boys' and girls' dormitories. When everyone was dismissed, Anri, as expected, headed for the girls' dormitories, but the prefect stopped her, grabbing her by the shoulder.

"Potter, where are you going?"

"To the dormitory, sir," Anri turned around at him, slightly surprised, not understanding what was wrong.

"The boys' dormitories are on the other side."

Anri lifted the corners of her lips slightly in a completely false but polite smile, suppressing her irritation. She was not Harry and not a boy. And she would not share a room with boys. You won’t make her. It would be better for her to fall asleep with a book in the armchair in the living room, creating the appearance that this happened completely by accident. But she would not go into the men’s room, and, especially, she would not live there.

“I know, sir.”

The prefect, who was unable to cope with the stubborn, but polite and courteous first-year, had to take Potter to the Head so that he could sort out the "star boy" and explain to the first-year even more clearly - although it couldn't be more clearly - that boys sleep in the boys' dormitory, girls in the girls', and nothing else.

"Mr. Potter, may I ask what the problem is?" a short, grey-haired man looked at her with concern, his features showing something from the goblins who worked in the bank, which immediately made her feel some sympathy for the Head.

"Professor Flitwick, sir, I beg your pardon, but I think there has been some mistake, since my name is not Harry Potter," Anri slightly bowed her head and pursed her lips, looking straight at the Head, but not into his eyes - looking a person straight in the eye is not very polite.

"I see," the professor bowed his head with interest, narrowing his eyes. "And what is your name then, young man?"

"Henrietta Potter, sir," the girl curtsied, looking down at the floor.

The professor groaned and with the help of magic made the teapot and two porcelain teacups fly onto the table. The teapot itself poured the tea into the cups, two sugar cubes jumped into the cup without creating a splash.

“Sit down, Miss Potter, let’s talk,” the professor suggested with a fatherly smile, inviting her to tea.

Curtseying again, Anri carefully sat down on the chair, which politely moved itself, moving her to the table. The tea smelled pleasantly of flowers and berries, there was just the amount of sugar she liked, and several small muffins jumped out of the jar the professor pulled out of the desk drawer, starting to dance. Anri smiled, hiding her smile behind the cup raised to her lips.

Yes, Ravenclaw is definitely the best choice.

Chapter Text

Anri looked absently at the view of the forest and mountains from the top of the Owl Tower. The white barn owl Mr. Hagrid had given her was nipping at her fingers, demanding more owl biscuits. Anri handed them over, lightly stroking the beak with her fingers. Minuet, as she had named her post owl, closed her eyes contentedly, crunching on the treat.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was, like the rest of the wizarding world, strange. And at the same time, there were the same people here as everywhere else. Noisy, active children, simple and arrogant, poor and rich, cheerful and gloomy. Teachers, strict, like Professors McGonagall and Snape, and good-natured, like Professors Flitwick and Sprout. Strange, like Professor Quirrell and Headmaster Dumbledore. They were all different, but apart from their magic, they were no different from ordinary people.

Anri can't say that she made any friends at school, but she got along well with her roommates - Padma Patil, Sabrina Fawcett and Lisa Turpin. Miss Potter was generally a homebody and preferred to spend time with her aunt and work in the garden after school instead of socializing with her classmates. In addition, her peers often did not understand why she behaved so "pompously and arrogantly". They saw no reason to so strictly adhere to the "outdated and dusty" rules of etiquette. And Henrietta believed that it was better to be "old-fashioned" but polite and courteous than "fashionable" but rude and ignorant.

In Hogwarts, in general, nothing much had changed. Yes, there were children her age who also adhered to the norms of behavior in society and etiquette, but... They did it not because they wanted to, not because they felt it was right, but because their parents or teachers imposed it on them. An example of this could be Mr. Malfoy - he behaved with aristocratic politeness, used phrases and gestures that were outdated even in Henrietta's opinion, but the next moment he could swear and rush into a fight with Mr. Weasley or openly insult Miss Granger. The whole school knew about this trio after a month of study - the scandalous couple of Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, who could not spend a minute peacefully, and Hermione Granger, with her moralizing and arrogant tone, infuriating two enemies and flying into their next showdown at the speed of light.

Henri tried to keep her distance from Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but she did it tactfully and discreetly, and with Mr. Malfoy, when he was in a good mood, she could exchange a few words and pleasantries. Especially since he was still one of the few who did not call her "Harry Potter" or "Mr. Potter."

Yes, she had spoken to Professor Flitwick, they had sorted out the confusion, and her things had been moved to the first-year girls' room, who had also been informed that Henrietta Potter was their roommate and a girl. The other teachers had also learned from Professor Flitwick that the Boy-Who-Lived was a girl. But most of the Hogwarts students, especially those from other Houses, still thought of her as a boy. But what irritated Anri the most, which she of course did not show, was that even those who knew she was a girl still called her Harry.

Henrietta Potter had nothing against the names "Henry", "Harriet" and "Harry", but after two months of studying they began to cause her a strong dislike, if not to say hatred.

Now Anri was sure that she would not get along with people with such names. Simply because of the bad associations.

In the whole school there were only a few people who did not address her as a boy or as "Harry". Among them were Mr. Malfoy, who met her before he learned that she was "the Boy Who Lived", Professor Snape, who addressed her as a strictly formal "Miss Potter" and was perhaps the most polite and courteous person in the school, adhering to the rules of etiquette, despite his bad character, and Head Flitwick, to whom Anri, after three months of weekly tea parties in his office and pleasant conversation, suggested to call her by her first name.

Most wizards, to Miss Potter's great surprise and even some disappointment, preferred to believe not their own eyes, but the tales they had heard for ten years. And some particularly stubborn individuals, having heard that Potter considered herself a girl, approached her and tried to convince her that considering yourself a girl when you are a boy is not normal, and that she should stop doing it. And even the skirt from the school uniform under the robe and dresses on weekends did not mean anything to anyone - men's Scottish kilts are also, in essence, skirts, dresses look like shortened robes, and in general, who knows these stupid crazy Muggles and their fashion ...

Henrietta did not argue. She only smiled politely and said goodbye, returning to her business. Ladies do not enter into pointless arguments. A lady will keep her thoughts to herself, allowing the interlocutor to be mistaken, if he so wishes. It is very unseemly to impose one's point of view on others, as Miss Granger does, for example.

That's why Anri continued to wear what she liked, buttoned her robe all the way up to cover her legs in a short skirt, wore tights, braided her hair and didn't try to convince anyone of anything. Ravenclaw is a House of free and independent people. And even if someone in the House continued to consider her a boy and thought of her as a strange boy, no one bothered. And other Houses didn't bother either, knowing about such a feature of Ravenclaw as a bright individuality or even strangeness of all students.

Looking back at the students and teachers of Hogwarts, remembering the residents of her hometown, Anri with a mental sigh is forced to admit that yes, with her manners and etiquette, she really does look strange in modern society.

And that's why she loved her House, which gave everyone freedom of expression, even more. Light blue and blue gradually became the main colors in her clothes.

In her free time, Henrietta picked up the violin she had brought with her and played it in her bedroom. There were too many people in the living room, and it was impolite to disturb them with her playing. Although when Padma asked her to play something beautiful in the living room and the others supported her, Miss Potter agreed. The gentle melody on the violin was liked by everyone, including the widely smiling Professor Flitwick, who came to check on his charges.

The lessons at Hogwarts were different from those at a regular school. Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Broomstick flying... Speaking of flying, Miss Potter flatly refused to sit on a broom "like a man" and rise into the air. If she had been wearing trousers instead of a skirt, Henrietta might have thought about following Professor Hooch's instructions, but no. And even the fact that she was wearing a long robe that would have covered everything, in theory, didn't change anything. So when the broom obediently jumped into her hand, the girl carefully sat on it sideways, adjusting her skirt. A lady's riding position magically. The professor scolded, but Henrietta only gently refused to sit down "normally". And anyway, it was not proper for a lady to cut through the air riding a broom and play dangerous sports games. So Anri, still sitting sideways on the broom, flew around the clearing at a height of one meter and descended sedately, thanking the broom, which was trembling with pleasure, for the ride.

Professor Hooch didn't like her, Professor Flitwick treated her with fatherly warmth, Professor McGonagall was strict with everyone, Professor Sprout was kind to everyone, and Professor Snape liked discipline and attention in his lessons, which were quite dangerous if you didn't follow his instructions. Henri liked Professor Snape. Not only for his manners, but also for the way he taught the lessons, the way he told them. His voice was mesmerizing, and his instructions were clear and understandable. He didn't tolerate students getting distracted or interrupting him, demanding clear and concise answers and the polite use of "sir" when addressing himself. Anri was always polite and attentive in class, never interrupting and trying to answer as meaningfully as possible, pushing aside verbal lace for a more appropriate occasion. Perhaps that was why she and the professor had a neutral relationship, although he sometimes looked at Miss Potter with displeasure and suspicion, as if she would definitely do something or say something rude and impolite the next moment. But that never happened.

Henrietta Potter lived in peace and harmony, reading Jane Austen novels and playing the violin in the evenings, diligently doing her homework and preparing for lessons, not getting into arguments with other students or teachers, but sometimes maintaining conversations. And every weekend she would certainly accept the Head's invitation to tea in his office with several other Ravenclaw students, among whom was Miss Turpin, who was able to weave amazing charms from beads and ribbons.

Anri had never liked Halloween, not realizing what the holiday of the last harvest had become. Monsters, trick-or-treating, pumpkin lanterns and bats, cobwebs everywhere and howling ghosts... Not to mention that it was on Halloween that her parents died. True, Aunt Petunia said that they crashed their car because of the carelessness of her irresponsible father, and in the wizarding world "everyone knew" that Lily and James Potter died from the spell of "the terrible and terrifying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" while protecting their son Harry.

Yes, the connection with the name of the Boy-Who-Lived Harry Potter became another reason to dislike this day. And in her first year of studying at a magical school, Halloween lived up to her expectations - scary, creepy, nothing good. In simple and understandable words - a dangerous and uncontrollable creature three meters tall, immune to magic, with thick skin and no mind, called a troll, broke into the school.

When Professor Quirrell burst into the festive feast shouting "Troll! There's a troll in the castle!", Anri's first desire, quite unworthy of a lady, was to crawl under the table and hide there. However, she nipped it in the bud, trying to remain calm. The Prefect of the House led them to the living room and told them to go to their bedrooms, not to panic and not to go anywhere.

Anri, in order to calm down, picked up her favorite violin, making the strings play a beautiful melody, the sounds of which calmed her neighbors. Padma brewed good Indian tea with a tart aroma, Liza put the napkins she made using the macrame technique on the table, and Sabrina took out a box of cakes that her parents sent her in the morning. They had a good time over a pleasant conversation with aromatic tea and delicious cakes. The girls were sweet and thought Henrietta's behavior was unusual, but beautiful. They discussed their hobbies, types of tea, tastes in cakes, Anri, at the girls' request, played the violin again, and Padma got up to dance, showing them the movements of Indian dances. Having fun, the girls got carried away. When the girls' prefect Penelope Crystal came in to check on the first-years, Anri played cheerful music on the violin, to which Padma, Sabrina and Liza twirled around the room in a dance, periodically repeating each other's movements.

The Ravenclaw first-years successfully forgot about the troll that evening and did not want to remember it. Fortunately, it was caught and the professors neutralized it.

Anri spent the winter holidays with her family. Christmas dinner, for which Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister, came, unwrapping presents the next morning - Aunt Petunia gave her a new novel and warm mittens with a flower pattern. Dudley was happy to see her, although he tried to knock her into a snowdrift. On Christmas Eve, Anri played Christmas carols on the violin, and there was a golden turkey and cranberry juice on the table. Garlands, a decorated Christmas tree, Dudley put on a red and white fur Christmas cap and cheerfully sang, not hitting the notes.

Anri returned to school rested and happy - she did not even realize how much she missed her family and home until she came for the holidays. The Ravenclaw common room had a decorated Christmas tree, and stockings filled with sweets hung over the fireplace, from which anyone could take a lollipop or gingerbread. There were garlands and wreaths everywhere, and Professor Flitwick looked like Santa on the first day back from the winter holidays, wearing a Christmas hat. He was handing out sweets and Christmas canes to everyone with a cheerful laugh. The entire house was happy and glad to see their Head of House.

School continued calmly. Anri sometimes had a headache where there was a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, supposedly left by an evil wizard, but she did not pay much attention to it. She studied well and had tea parties with her roommates. In the evenings they gathered together in the "tea corner", which was actually almost in the middle of the room, and discussed articles in magazines, gossip about the school and the magical world, new tea from Padma or cakes from Sabrina. Lisa wove napkins and tablecloths for the tea corner. Anri enjoyed playing the violin for the girls and gave them her novels to read.

The school year ended calmly. True, there were rumors that the famous trio - Malfoy, Weasley and Granger - climbed into the "Forbidden Corridor" on the third floor, where the headmaster had forbidden them to go under threat of "Horrible death" at the beginning of the year, and injured Professor Quirrell there, because of which he was forced to leave his position as a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, fortunately, the year had already ended and they had already passed their exams. To be left without a teacher right before the exams would have been... awkward and inconvenient.

Now Anri looked out at the Hogwarts area from the window of the Owl Tower, getting ready to send her aunt a letter with the date and time she would arrive in London by train. She had settled in at school, in her opinion. She hadn't made any enemies or opponents, or friends, but she got along well with her roommates and maintained neutral or neutral-good relations with the others, or at least she tried. She had learned to cast spells and brew some potions, learned a little about the history of the magical world and realized that wizards were the same people, only they could cast spells.

Having said goodbye to Padma, Lisa and Sabrina with a smile, Anri boarded the train, treating Minuet to owl cookies. The owl loved them very much and after such a treat was even ready to fly faster than usual. And Miss Potter was not against pampering her favorite. Over the course of a year, she visited the Owl Tower to check on Minuet and sent letters to her family. The owl was good-natured, albeit touchy - when Dudley pulled a feather out of her as a joke, Minuet refused to let him touch her and did not fly closer than three meters to him until the Christmas holidays, when Anri persuaded her cousin to apologize to the owl. After that, Minuet nobly forgave the boy, but she still preferred to give and pick up letters from Aunt Petunia, who always fed the owl something tasty. And Uncle Vernon was glad that the owl caught mice during her visits, and she did it better than the neighbor's cats.

At home, shepherd's pie and already blossoming rose bushes were waiting for her. Auntie had prepared several more novels, which she offered Henrietta to read. Dudley was running around outside with his friends, picking unripe apples from the trees.

Anri happily helped her auntie in the kitchen, took care of the roses, played the violin, learning new compositions, read and did her summer homework. Sometimes she exchanged letters with Lisa - Sabrina went on vacation to France, and Padma and her sister Parvati were visiting their grandfather in India, so it was difficult to send them letters.

Petunia could not stop admiring her little lady in a soft blue dress with a neat braid and bright green eyes, greeting guests with a polite smile and making a pie in the kitchen. The woman was afraid that Hogwarts would change her niece as much as it had changed her sister, but to her great relief, Henrietta remained the same little lady, polite and modest, always neat and tactful. She had only become better at controlling her emotions and smiled at her more sincerely, with an expression of pure happiness and gratitude.

Time flew by. It seemed that Anri had only just returned home from Hogwarts when she had already received a letter with a list of things she needed for the next year. This time there was no escort from the magical world, so Petunia was going to walk along the magical street herself, as she had once upon a time when they bought textbooks for Lily, and help her niece. Letting a twelve-year-old girl go alone would be too imprudent.

Petunia looked at the magical shops with hidden delight and open apprehension. Anri walked calmly next to her, heading to the goblin bank. She had taken the key from Mr. Hagrid with the help of the goblins on their last trip to Diagon Alley. The goblins' appearance had frightened Petunia, so Anri suggested that her aunt stay upstairs while she went to the Vault to get the money. Mrs. Dursley, swallowing nervously, agreed.

This year, the list included many Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks by one author, Gilderoy Lockhart, who was apparently supposed to be their new teacher. But when Henrietta and her aunt entered the bookstore, they were blinded by flashes from magical cameras and deafened by women's shrieks.

"A book signing?" Aunt Petunia raised an eyebrow, looking skeptically at the curly blond with a wide smile at the other end of the room.

The woman took a book with his name from the nearest shelf and, leafing through it, frowned. She checked the title of the book with Henrietta's list and snorted contemptuously.

"No need to waste money on this. If you want to read a novel, there are many much more worthy writers," she carelessly threw the book into a pile of similar ones, almost knocking them over.

Henrietta, who had leafed through another book by the same author, couldn't help but agree with her aunt, even if she wouldn't express her thoughts openly. It was an adventure novel with a love story by the author-protagonist. Besides, - Anri glanced sideways at the paragraph in which a three-meter werewolf was pressing an innocent, frightened girl against the wall of a telephone booth, which should have been small and could accommodate one or two people - with a low degree of credibility. And they are being offered this as a textbook?

"You didn't like the textbooks for some reason, miss?" a male voice was heard behind them.

Anri slowly turned around and, recognizing the man, curtsied, stretching her lips into a polite smile.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy," she bowed her head a little lower, catching sight of Draco Malfoy standing on the stairs out of the corner of her eye. "Allow me to introduce you to my aunt, Petunia Dursley. Auntie, this is Mr. Lucius Malfoy, his son is in my year at Hogwarts."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Petunia nodded dryly, moving closer to her niece.

"And I am very pleased to meet the guardian of a national heroine," the man politely bowed his head, looking, however, at Henrietta. "May I ask what you didn't like about the textbooks?"

Realizing that her aunt was not going to answer the question asked, Anri picked up the book she had put aside and handed it to Mr. Malfoy.

"Please, sir, take a look with your own eyes. This book is not very suitable as a textbook, although as an adventure novel it would be quite interesting for a certain audience," Miss Potter hinted unobtrusively at the crowd of women behind her, who were standing in line for Mr. Lockhart's autograph.

"Indeed," the man drawled, leafing through the book. "This book is included in the list of textbooks for this year, if I am not mistaken?" He raised an eyebrow, slightly wrinkling his nose in disgust, and threw the book away, wiping his hands with a handkerchief.

"You are right, sir," Anri nodded, understanding him perfectly. "This year's list of textbooks includes all of Mr. Lockhart's books, as far as can be judged from the notices in this room."

“And who does this old senile man recruit as teachers?” the man muttered almost inaudibly under his breath.

Anri, who had difficulty understanding his words, suppressed a smile. Such rudeness towards the headmaster was unnecessary, but she agreed with the unflattering opinion towards the new teacher.

“Unfortunately,” Mr. Malfoy grimaced slightly, “I cannot influence this situation now. The lists have already been compiled and sent out, many students have already bought textbooks. Let’s hope that this… writer,” the man clearly wanted to express himself differently, but restrained himself, “will not be so bad at teaching.”

“You are right, sir,” Anri smiled, bowing her head.

Having said goodbye to Mr. Malfoy and slightly nodded her head to Draco Malfoy, who still did not come up, Anri left the bookstore with a stack of textbooks, among which there was not a single book authored by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Petunia, catching her breath after meeting a wizard who radiated power and danger, thought with displeasure that the teachers at Hogwarts clearly left much to be desired.

Henrietta, not allowing herself to show displeasure, walked along Diagon Alley next to her aunt with a barely noticeable smile, realizing that this year would be more interesting than the previous one. At least with a new teacher.

Lucius Malfoy watched the heroine of magical Britain from the window of the bookstore, whom everyone had thought was a boy for ten years, and many still thought so, he himself could hardly believe that such a mistake was possible. His lips stretched into a grin. Henrietta Potter, although she grew up among Muggles, behaved more decently than many pure-blooded wizards. It flashed through his thoughts that perhaps magical Britain was lucky that Miss Potter was given to be raised by this woman, what was her name, Petunia Dursley?

A boy with a hero complex would clearly be more trouble than this young lady - this is what the man thought, returning to his son and his business.

Chapter Text

Henrietta looked thoughtfully into the golden eyes with narrow pupils, unable to look away, as if her body had turned to stone. Padma fell to her knees next to her, trembling slightly with horror.

And yet the year had begun so sweetly…

It began, however, with a scandal - Ron Weasley, for some unknown reason, was unable to get onto platform nine and three-quarters - although Anri, who was walking right in front of him, calmly walked - and arrived at school in a flying car stolen from his parents, demonstrating it to the Muggles along the way. He crashed into the Whomping Willow, standing near the school, and damaged its branches. Anri sincerely felt sorry for the living tree, which cradled the broken branches and angrily chirped at everyone except Professor Sprout. Mr. Malfoy, of course, could not miss the opportunity to sting and hit his eternal enemy harder, and Miss Granger could not help but stand up for the “weak and oppressed.”

In general, the year began with another scandal of the famous trio of enemies, who were squabbling among themselves, but did not let others into their squabbles. And also with the introduction of a new teacher, at the sight of whom a significant part of the female half of the students spread out on the tables in admiration. Sabrina looked at Mr. Lockhart with loving eyes, Lisa was delighted. And only Padma bit her lower lip, squinting and trying to get a closer look at the new teacher. Anri decided not to draw conclusions ahead of time.

However, she had already made up her mind about Gilderoy Lockhart during the very first lesson. And she joined Padma in silent opposition, not supporting the admiring sighs for the "magnificent, beautiful and unique hero and embodiment of all women's dreams." And if she could explain the fact that he had unleashed a pack of wild pixies on the second-year students and abandoned them, giving them a non-working spell to fight the little pests, by the desire to test the students and give them a lesson in a practical semi-combat situation, then Henrietta could not justify the test at the beginning of the lesson on the knowledge of the details of the biography, preferences and dreams of Mr. Lockhart himself by anything other than vanity and pride that exceeded all norms.

Henrietta dealt with the pixies, by the way, by driving them all into the closet with the help of her classmates and locking them there. And after that, quickly and unnoticed by the others, she straightened her clothes and hair - a lady should always look neat. True, a lady should not fight small pests like pixies, but when circumstances force you, you will take up a sword, going out onto the battlefield.

Anri tried to politely ignore Mr. Lockhart's further lessons and softly and unobtrusively, even if it was not very nice in relation to others, turned the teacher's attention to other students. Because he was fired up with the idea of ​​staging his own books, where "Harry Potter" was necessarily supposed to play the role of all sorts of monsters that Mr. Lockhart defeated. Anri categorically disagreed with this state of affairs. Ladies do not make a laughing stock of themselves and do not amuse the public by participating in stupid and reckless undertakings.

And Halloween "delighted" the students of Hogwarts with another incident - someone bewitched the caretaker Mr. Filch's cat, hanging it by its tail to a torch, and wrote something about the heir of Slytherin on the wall in red paint. And, of course, it could not do without the famous trinity - Mr. Weasley literally screamed, accusing Mr. Malfoy of everything, who only snorted contemptuously, and Miss Granger supported the accusations with facts and besieged Mr. Weasley's particularly rude statements, getting on the nerves of both boys. The three of them were the first to be found at the "scene of the crime". And since Mr. Malfoy was a student of the Slytherin House and came from a famous and noble family of the same Slytherins, rumors soon began to spread around Hogwarts that Draco Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin.

Mr. Malfoy was irritated by these rumors, although it was difficult to notice. But Henrietta was attentive, had a good understanding of etiquette and rules of conduct, and occasionally communicated with Mr. Malfoy, so she was able to notice it.

“What, Potter, and you consider me the heir of Slytherin?” Mr. Malfoy smirked, allowing himself to be familiar.

Anri noticed how the corner of his lips twitched with hostility, saw a slight crease between his eyebrows and a tense look, fingers digging into the sleeves of his robe.

“I prefer to believe facts, Mr. Malfoy, and not rumors that have no confirmation,” Anri answered softly, slightly bowing her head and walking further down the corridor.

A sigh was heard behind her, as if some tension had been released from the boy. He began to communicate with her a little more than in their first year, after that conversation. It seemed that Miss Potter was one of the few who did not hold him responsible for the "mysterious attacks", one of which occurred soon after - a first-year Gryffindor boy was found as frozen as Mr. Filch's cat.

Anri remembered this boy - he had been running after her from the first days, when he recognized her as "Harry Potter", taking pictures and asking about Hogwarts and her tastes. She did not like this "fanaticism", but the boy was sincere and even obediently agreed to call her "Henrietta" after a polite request. However, he did not agree to address her as "Miss".

The boy photographer was not the only first-year who attracted Henrietta's attention - Ginny Weasley, Mr. Weasley's younger sister, had entered Gryffindor, blushing slightly, looking at her with an admiration and even adoration that Anri could not understand. Anri herself did not like such looks, they made her nervous, so Miss Potter tried to avoid young Miss Weasley, but frankly speaking, it did not work out very well - the red-haired first-year managed to find Henrietta almost everywhere she went. And she was even able to get into the Ravenclaw common room thanks to her friend Miss Lovegood, who had entered Ravenclaw that year.

All this fuss and noise was giving Anri a headache, so she began to go to the library more and more often, where the strict librarian Madame Pince carefully monitored the observance of silence and order, or to stay in the bedroom, where she could always brew delicious tea, with cakes on display. This year the girls decided to create a "tea corner fund" - each put a certain amount of money into the "common piggy bank", with which they bought tea and cakes. Thanks to Lisa, their room now had beautiful lace curtains on the windows, and Sabrina's drawings hung on the walls. In the evenings, Padma played the bansuri flute brought from India, the sounds of which smoothly flowed into each other, enchanting.

More fuss and unrest in the school began when Professor Lockhart decided to organize a Duelling Club. Henrietta came to the demonstration out of pure interest, intrigued by the word "duel" itself, which was an integral part of secular culture and chivalry, the concept of gallantry and good manners. The fact that Professor Snape was standing in the hall on a platform specially created for the Duelling Club was a pleasant and calming surprise. Anri was sure that if Professor Snape was here, then everything would be fine. He would prevent a catastrophe and correct Professor Lockhart's mistakes if he made them.

And rumors of his "useful" advice had already spread throughout the school. Anri herself saw Professor Lockhart "teach" Professor Sprout - a master in Herbology! - to heal the Whomping Willow. Which, after his "help", stretched its branches towards him with clearly not good intentions. But the branches trembled, as if they were being electrocuted, so the tree did not succeed.

Mr. Lockhart's pose was deliberately graceful, impractical and not elegant, it screamed "I'm the best, look at me." Professor Snape's pose, like his movements, were, although stingy, but clear and restrained, he strictly controlled his every action and monitored the situation.

Anri knew who would emerge victorious even before this semblance of a duel began. Therefore, Lockhart, who flew into the wall from a simple disarmament spell, did not come as a surprise to her, and Padma, who was standing next to her, even chuckled contentedly, catching Sabrina’s angry look.

After the "demonstration of what not to do" they were divided into pairs and told to practice. One pair was to be called to the platform where the teachers had "fought" earlier. Professor Snape suggested Mr. Malfoy and was about to name the second "duelist" when Mr. Lockhart quite shamelessly grabbed Henrietta by the hand and pulled her onto the platform.

“And Mr. Potter! Harry, you won't mind, will you?”

Anri, of course, was mind. But she only slightly twitched the corner of her lips, carefully pulling her hand out of the man's grip. And she discreetly ran her hand briefly over her robe, as if wiping it. Not very cultured, but after that she felt better and not so... disgusted, or what? Yes, Henrietta was disgusted by Mr. Lockhart's touch, as well as by his familiarity and cloyingness.

Mr. Malfoy waved his wand in a greeting gesture. Henrietta had no choice but to greet him back, slightly bowing her head, but not taking her eyes off her temporary opponent. This allowed her to use a defensive spell in time, reflecting the disarming one.

Mr. Malfoy felt the excitement, an anticipatory smile stretched across his face. Anri had to not only defend herself, but also send spells at her opponent that matched the description of the attackers. Nothing serious, just a disarming, binding, stopping one.

The situation changed when, after another spell from Mr. Malfoy, a snake appeared on the platform. It raised its head and hissed threateningly at Anri. Miss Potter froze, not taking her eyes off the snake. One move, and the snake could pounce on her, bite her. Or, what could be even worse, the snake could rush at one of the spectators.

Meanwhile, Mr. Malfoy sent some kind of spell at it. Anri, not having time to react in time, crouched down, which caused an attack from the snake. Miraculously, no doubt, the girl managed to grab the snake almost at its head, not allowing it to bite her. So she froze, with the snake in her hand almost at her face, sternly looking into the yellow snake eyes with narrow pupils. Her heart was pounding in her chest with fear, her legs were shaking, and the thought flashed through her mind that it was good that she was sitting now, otherwise her legs would have definitely given way.

The snake's tail was wriggling. A long forked tongue stuck out, tasting the air. Unaware of what was happening, Anri quietly, almost inaudibly whispered-hissed "Calm down."

And the snake calmed down. It froze, staring intently into Miss Potter's face. And it is unknown how long this would have continued, if not for Professor Snape's shout.

“Miss Potter, throw the snake away from you immediately!”

Without having time to think about her actions, Henrietta obeyed, throwing the snake, which still did not move. It flew towards the Hufflepuff boy, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, but Professor Snape made it disappear right in the air.

“Potter, are you okay in the head?!” the boy screamed in fear. “Are you trying to kill me?!”

Henrietta did not hear him. She was dizzy with fear. With difficulty getting to her feet, she descended from the platform and went towards the Ravenclaw common room.

She had had enough of duels, snakes and other unpleasant things for today. Now she needed tea, a violin and a novel.

Miss Potter could hear a terrible voice threatening someone along the way. And it was coming from the walls. Putting her fingers to her temple, Anri quickened her pace, dreaming of being in the bedroom as soon as possible.

“Harry, wait for me!” Padma caught up with her. “You’re…” she hesitated, as if she couldn’t bring herself to say something, and then changed her mind. “You’re heading to the bedroom, right? Come on, I’ll make you some tea and play the bansuri.”

And soon the school was shaken by the news that the next victim of the attack was Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Rumors about Mr. Malfoy became even more numerous, since it was he who created the snake that flew at the victim. Padma looked at Miss Potter strangely thoughtfully and sometimes looked back in the corridors, shuddering.

Anri left for the Christmas holidays with joy, dreaming of the peace and quiet of her home, the warmth of the fireplace and the absence of the strange auditory hallucinations that began to haunt her at Hogwarts.

Gingerbread cookies, embroidery with her aunt by the fireplace and learning new compositions on the violin gave her much-needed peace of mind. She returned to Hogwarts peaceful and confident that the hallucinations were a consequence of fatigue and stress and that she would not hear them again.

Alas, Henrietta was wrong. As soon as she returned to school, she heard whispers behind the walls again. Several more people and a ghost were "petrified". Professor Sprout carefully watched the harvest of mandrakes, from which Professor Snape was supposed to prepare a potion that would revive all the victims.

One of these victims was Miss Granger, because of which, on the one hand, the castle became quieter, and on the other, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley became more nervous, they constantly looked around, as if they expected that the champion of justice and equality would come out from around the corner and start scolding them again, interfering in the "male showdown".

And almost at the end of the year, when the mandrake potion still had literally a couple of days to brew, an alarming inscription appeared on the wall, which announced that one of the students had been dragged into the opened Slytherin Chamber of Secrets.

Henrietta had no intention of getting involved in this. She had no intention of participating in this and she wanted to get away from all these "adventures". But she was unlucky. As she grumbled, calming down, in the empty room, she very unluckily hissed "open" to her bag. The bag did not open, but the sink went down, opening a tunnel down. Just as unluckily, at that moment Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley jumped inside with Professor Lockhart.

"I knew it!" Mr. Malfoy shouted, grabbing Mr. Lockhart by the sleeve and pulling him towards the tunnel.

The professor and two students jumped into the dark abyss. Mr. Weasley, sliding down, grabbed the hem of Miss Potter's robes in fear, pulling her along with him.

Further evidence of Miss Potter's bad luck that day was Padma falling on top of her.

Henrietta promised herself to mark that day black on her calendar and to keep her distance from Mr. Weasley, especially when he was in the company of Mr. Malfoy.

Then something completely strange and indescribable happened. Fortunately, Anri and Padma were watching it from the side. Mr. Lockhart tried to curse Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley to lose their memories, but he grabbed Mr. Weasley's wand, the unsightly appearance of which had long aroused suspicion in everyone, and cursed himself. In the huge hall behind the doors that opened after a hissing "open" from somewhere behind Anri's back, an unfamiliar guy was standing over the unconscious Miss Weasley, and some kind of notebook was lying nearby.

While Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy were playing the hero, saving the little sisters (Mr. Weasley), and the great wizards, who were immune to the terrible Dark spells (Mr. Malfoy), Anri and Padma carefully walked inside.

Henrietta winced, listening to the crunch of mouse bones underfoot and feeling the dust that had accumulated in the place. She had no desire to go forward, but she did not know how to get to the top. Besides, something seemed to be calling her forward. As if there was someone up there she needed to meet.

So Miss Potter pulled herself together and slowly and carefully, supporting Padma, moved forward.

They reached the scene of the main action at the moment when Mr. Weasley was fighting with an unknown guy, and Mr. Malfoy was trying to do something with a strange notebook.

Several things happened at once - Padma screamed, something big and bright green threw the guys aside, causing them to lose consciousness, and Henrietta froze, catching the gaze of eyes filled with liquid gold.

Padma fell to her knees, hiding her head and inaudibly ...hissing something?

Anri would have looked back at her if she could have taken her eyes off the golden ones. But she was frozen and unable to move, even to blink.

"Please, King, have mercy, we did not mean to disturb your peace!" Anri could hardly make out Padma's words.

A King... Yes, perhaps the creature before her was indeed a King, the King of Snakes. A huge snake with a bony growth on its head resembling a crown, it stared at her, its tail curling into rings behind it, the very tip almost touching the trembling Padma.

"Human children have become so brave," the snake hissed.

Anri realized with surprise that she understood him. Magic, no doubt.

“Forgive us, King,” Padma answered frantically, without raising her head, “we didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“I know,” the snake irritably waved its tail, throwing the black notebook toward the pool of water. “A stupid cub locked part of his soul in a notebook, and then woke me up. Are all people that stupid?” He stuck out his tongue, almost touching Henrietta’s nose. “You’re lucky I’m not hungry, otherwise no old promises to Salazar would have saved you,” the snake turned around, crawling past the girls. “Take these children and go, I’m tired and want to sleep,” the snake turned around for a moment, piercing Anri with his gaze. “And if anyone wakes me up in the next decade, I’ll eat them, not listening to excuses. Do you understand?”

And, not listening to Padma's confused whisper of agreement, the snake crawled away, taking with it the notebook, which it bit through, hissing curses in displeasure at Salazar Slytherin and his descendants.

Anri was unable to move.

When all those who had suffered from the basilisk's golden gaze were given a potion of mandrakes and Henrietta was able to move again, she decided to forget about this incident as a bad dream.

Ladies do not walk through scary dusty dungeons.

Ladies do not participate in rescue operations, even if by accident.

Ladies do not talk to thousand-year-old Snake Kings and do not freeze as stone statues in deep dungeons.

A lady does not allow herself to be dragged across a dirty floor, collecting all the dust on her clothes.

And a lady never tells anyone about such a thing, including herself, if it does happen.

So, politely thanking Professor Snape for his help, Anri went up to the bedroom, where her roommates were already waiting for her with news, tea, sweets and bansuri music.

Over a cup of bergamot tea, Padma told of her gift as a parselmouth and snake charmer, which she had inherited from her grandfather, whom she and her sister had visited in the summer. Liza shared rumors that only dark wizards had the gift of speaking with snakes.

“That’s exactly why I hid it — they’d say all sorts of nonsense, and then I’d have to take the rap,” Padma snorted into her cup, proudly throwing her head back, trying to cheer herself up.

“You shouldn’t believe rumors,” Henrietta said softly, enjoying the rich aroma of the tea. “It’s better to trust your own eyes and even trust facts with a grain of salt. After all, every lie contains a grain of truth, and every truth contains a grain of falsehood.”

Sabrina nodded in agreement, unable to speak because of her mouth full of cookies. Liza closed her eyes, nodding slightly. Padma smiled gratefully.

The topic of snakes, dark cellars and unsuccessful adventures, which the scandalous trio had been getting into for the second year in a row, was not raised again.

Although Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley were awarded certificates of honor for saving the life of a Hogwarts student.

But everyone tactfully kept silent about this. Especially Henrietta, who decided to ignore the fact of what had happened.

Perhaps an interesting year is not always a good and successful one. Anri would probably prefer the next year to be calm and safe than "interesting" like this one.

Chapter Text

Calm is quiet, peaceful, and without any notable events. Safe is without risk to life and health.

Interesting is the opposite of calm and safe.

Henrietta thinks wearily about how she doesn't like interesting years.

After a wonderful summer spent with her family, Anri returned to school with a soft smile. She wanted to see Padma, Lisa and Sabrina, Professor Flitwick. This year, she had new subjects that she had chosen to study - Care of Magical Creatures, Divination and Ancient Runes. Ladies have always told fortunes about their future and their future, and Henrietta found it simply interesting to study runes, and after Aunt Marge's naughty bulldog named Ripper, Miss Potter did not find it difficult to cope with any other animal.

Anri was full of enthusiasm and hopes for a calm, educational year.

Her hopes began to melt before her eyes already on the train. Anri was riding in the same compartment with her roommates and they were discussing how they had spent their summer. The train began to slow down, although it was still far to Hogsmeade, where the station was located. The lights went out, and the windows were covered with frost patterns, it became colder.

"What's going on?" Sabrina looked around nervously, rubbing her shoulders with her hands.

A dark silhouette appeared behind the door, the door slowly creaked open. A creature dressed in a torn black robe, with long bony fingers. It entered, even flew inside, immediately turning its attention to Henrietta.

Cold. Anri felt a terrible cold and a feeling of longing and loneliness. Her heart was painfully pulled. The creature was approaching, as if sucking in air. Miss Potter looked at the creature's face without looking away. It was terrible - a skull covered in gray, scabby skin with a black hole of a mouth. The face was frozen in an expression of despair, which the creature was trying to convey to the girl.

Suddenly a snake hissed and the creature recoiled. In front of Henrietta, frozen with a stony expression on her face, a snake with a leathery hood appeared, as if woven from light and magic itself. The snake drove the robe-clad creature away.

Turning around, Anri saw Padma with a trembling hand extended towards the door, clutching a magic wand. Lisa and Sabrina were sitting on the floor, trembling, Sabrina had tears in her eyes and was almost losing consciousness.

Sitting down on the sofa, Henrietta exhaled, releasing the tension. Padma fell next to her, dropping her wand.

“It worked,” the girl muttered, looking at Anri in disbelief, “I did it…”

“I don’t know what exactly you did, Padma,” Anri said softly, calling her neighbor by name for the first time, which made her smile, “but thank you very much.”

“We’re friends… Henrietta,” Padma hesitated before her name, moving away from the “Harry” that was customary for the entire school.

“You can just call me Anri,” Potter nodded slightly and reached for the thermos with tea.

It was already possible to do magic on the train, so, having turned the sheets of paper from Sabrina's notebook into four cups, the girls sat down to drink hot sweet tea. A man who came in after a while brought them chocolate, which came in very handy and removed the remnants of the strange creatures' influence.

And at school, all the students were in for some very sad news - those creatures that checked the train, they were called dementors, will now stand at every entrance to the school, since for the first time in history, a dangerous criminal escaped from prison, who is supposedly hunting for Harry Potter.

Henrietta wasn't even particularly surprised. Ever since the Dementor had appeared, she had realized that she couldn't hope for a calm and quiet year any longer.

And the bad news just kept coming, as if it wanted to drown Henrietta. Problems with Potions, a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, strange looks and persecution from Miss Weasley... And in the first Divination lesson, Professor Trelawney even predicted Anri's imminent, painful death. It was hard to call the beginning of the year pleasant.

In the first Defense Against Dark Creatures lesson, Professor Lupin, the same man from the train who had treated them to chocolate, decided to introduce them to a boggart - a creature that takes the form of its greatest fear. To do this, he gathered the third year from all the Houses in the teachers' room. After a successful demonstration of the Boggart-Banishing Spell, which turned a boggart into something funny, as imagined by the person who cast the spell, a whole queue formed behind Mr. Longbottom of Gryffindor to the cabinet containing the boggart.

Padma enthusiastically dragged Anri into line, standing behind her twin sister Parvati, who was in Gryffindor. Anri watched the spell carefully, occasionally allowing herself a weak smile, but not laughing. When it was Padma's turn, the Boggart transformed into a blue-skinned, four-armed woman, holding a sword and someone's severed head in both hands. Parvati, who had stepped aside, gasped as her sister pointed her wand at the Boggart and, after asking for forgiveness from a certain Kali, turned the sword into a firework on a stick, the head into a balloon, and the woman herself suddenly found herself in a fluffy pink princess dress, which looked so incongruous on her that it caused laughter.

Anri took a step forward, looking at the boggart carefully. It thrashed about for a moment, and then the girl saw familiar golden eyes with narrow pupils. A snake. Or the King of Snakes.

And this was her fear? A wave of resistance rose from within. Looking sternly straight into the golden eyes, Miss Potter took a step towards the boggart, which began to shake, it began to crawl towards the closet. The shapeshifter shook, it convulsively changed forms, trying to find Henrietta's fear, but in the end it climbed into the closet, closing the doors behind it.

Anri looked at the surprised professor, who smiled approvingly at her, with a satisfied twitch of the corner of her lips.

“You were able to overcome your fear, Miss Potter, that’s commendable,” he nodded, inviting the next one to the closet.

It took Anri a moment to realize that the new professor, who had most likely not yet been told that she was a girl, had called her “Miss.” Anri turned to the man and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

However, Miss Potter had no desire to get into Professor Lupin's soul or solve his secrets. Therefore, noting to herself that another person had appeared who called her normally, she joined Padma, who was watching the others.

Care of Magical Creatures had surprised her in the summer, when Anri had bought the textbook. The book was alive, furry and biting, with sharp large teeth. However, when Anri stroked the book's spine, trying to calm the wild textbook, it immediately calmed down and even opened up.

Mr. Hagrid – now Professor Hagrid – led them into the forest to the animal enclosure, and then brought out creatures that had the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse and the head, wings, and front legs of an eagle.

Professor Hagrid called these creatures hippogriffs and said that they were very proud and liked to be treated politely. He asked who wanted to approach them.

Anri didn't notice that everyone had taken a step back, which now made it seem as if she had stepped forward.

"Well done, Harry! Come on, come slowly, keep your eyes open," Mr. Hagrid encouraged, pointing at the grey hippogriff.

However, Henrietta caught the amber gaze of the black hippogriff standing a little to the side. It looked at her with pride and self-satisfaction, unlike the grey one, which felt somewhat timid in front of the professor.

Without taking her eyes off the black hippogriff and without listening to the professor who was saying something, Anri slowly walked with a straight back towards the proud creature. And when there were only a few steps left and aggression began to appear in the hippogriff's gaze, Henrietta curtsied deeply, bowing her head, but still not taking her eyes off him.

The hippogriff shook his head, then took a step forward, bowing politely. His amber eyes were still hypnotizing her, but now there was respect in them instead of aggression.

"Very well, Harry," Mr. Hagrid was nervous, gradually moving closer, "now back away from him slowly and carefully before he changes his mind."

The hippogriff, however, was of a different opinion. Coming even closer to Anri, he lowered himself as if inviting her to climb on his back, and nodded his head slightly, looking at Anri with a somewhat challenging expression.

Would a human girl dare to climb on the back of the leader of the local pack of hippogriffs?

Henrietta, as a lady and simply a girl in awe, could not resist the temptation, sitting on the strong black back of the hippogriff and hugging him around the neck.

The wide wings spread out, lifting them into the air. The wind blew in Anri's face, and the hippogriff flew through the air, showing the girl the beauty of nature from above. The feeling of flight made Miss Potter's insides clench with awe and delight, and since no one could see her now, she allowed herself to smile widely and laugh loudly, enjoying the flight.

When they returned, the other students were already chatting with other hippogriffs, and some were even flying in small circles above the clearing.

“Thank you for a pleasant flight, sir,” Anri thanked politely, descending, and curtsied.

There was amusement and satisfaction in the hippogriff’s eyes.

Not everyone, however, had such a good first lesson in Care of Magical Creatures - during the Gryffindor and Slytherin class, another clash between the scandalous trio occurred. Mr. Weasley, like Henrietta, was the first to approach the hippogriff and even rode it a little, which caused an enthusiastic whisper from the other students, and Mr. Malfoy decided to prove that there was nothing special about it and approached the hippogriff without any respect, and even insulted it. The hippogriff, of course, got angry and scratched Mr. Malfoy with its sharp claws. The wound was not serious, but the howl was heard throughout the forest, Mr. Malfoy played the role of a terminally ill person who wanted retribution for his suffering. In the end, the hippogriff was appointed as the culprit, and the punishment was the execution of the animal. Mr. Weasley, who was friends with Mr. Hagrid, who was tied to a hippogriff, and Miss Granger, a champion of justice, of course, could not leave it that easy. And now Mr. Weasley was arguing with Mr. Malfoy almost three times in an hour, and Miss Granger was studying magical law in order to officially cancel the execution of Buckbeak, that was the name of the hippogriff.

Henrietta knew all this because she also began to spend a lot of time in the library. There, oddly enough, the influence of the dementors was felt weaker than in the common room of the House. Anri did not immediately feel all the inconvenience of being near the dementors and did not immediately connect it with them, but eventually, not without the help of Padma and Lisa, she realized that it was the presence of the guards of the magical prison Azkaban that made her feel lethargic, apathetic, irritable, melancholy and lonely, sometimes even despair. Accustomed to controlling herself and her emotions, Anri coped with this better, but there was one problem that came to light during the planned exit of students older than the second year to the village of Hogsmeade, which was located near the school.

The Dementors seemed to be drawn to Henrietta Potter like a magnet, which is why the creatures' negative emotions weighed on her the most.

Being in the library didn't really help, but it did make the school feel less heavy and gloomy. Miss Potter didn't know any other way to cope.

Until Professor Lupin offered to help her. There was a spell against the Dementors, quite complex but effective, tied to happy emotions. And Mr. Lupin said he could teach her the spell. Anri, of course, agreed.

During the classes, the professor told Henri about her parents - it turned out that he was their close friend and knew them well. Anri listened, but was not impressed. In response to the words about her mother's kindness, Aunt Petunia's stories about her relationship with her younger sister came to mind, and in response to the remark about her father's cheerful nature, the story of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's wedding, when Anri's father James Potter and his friend Sirius Black - the same escaped criminal - ruined the wedding by bewitching the guests and organizing a food fight.

Of course, it was nice to hear a good opinion about her parents, especially about her father, about whom she had never heard a good word before, but she also did not forget to compare the professor's words with her aunt's stories. A person cannot be completely bad or completely good, and she understood that. But the behavior of her father, about whom her aunt spoke, was simply disgusting. Anri would not be surprised if he also bullied and humiliated someone at school together with his friend Mr. Black.

Therefore, during classes, Henrietta concentrated more on the spell - it turned out to be the same one that Padma used on the train. Patronus is a magical protector, the embodiment of the inner essence, bringing light.

Absorbed in studying the Patronus spell and her usual lessons, Anri completely missed the news of Sirius Black's infiltration of the school, as well as the general sleepover in the Great Hall, where the dining tables had been moved aside for this purpose - that day, she seemed to have dozed off in the far corner of the library, lulled by the whistling wind outside the window and the lack of influence from the guards.

Gradually, the Patronus began to work, although for now it was only a light cloud. The features of some animal were gradually visible in it. This encouraged Anri, prompting her to try even harder.

And what happiness she felt when after another "Expecto Patronum" a silver cloud did not appear from the magic wand - instead, an elegant cat jumped softly onto the floor, gracefully turning towards her. Large, two meters, if you count the long tail. She was darker than the silver cloud or Padma's snake. Anri had seen cats like these at the zoo, where she and her family went to celebrate Dudley's birthday.

Panther.

Henri was delighted, stroking the panther with her fingertips. The cat sat quietly, allowing the girl to touch it. Its long tail swayed slightly behind its back, living its own life. The fangs that could be seen when it yawned were frightening. But the panther was her protector, it would not touch Henrietta.

Unlike the nasty dementors.

After the panther appeared, life became easier. Anri used the Patronus spell in the bedroom and lay hugging the panther, enjoying the feeling of happiness and peace. The cat sometimes purred slightly, lulling the girl to sleep.

So the end of another school year, which everyone spent in tension because of the Dementors and Sirius Black wandering nearby, came imperceptibly. Anri, overflowing with confidence due to the ability to call upon the Patronus at any moment, decided to go outside and take a short walk, enjoying the night air and the view of the valley under the moonlight.

Having reached the animal enclosure where she had first met the hippogriff, Henri heard a wolf howl in the distance. Shivering and hoping that it was not a werewolf – there were no werewolves in the Forbidden Forest, at least not so close to Hogwarts – Henri was about to turn back to school when she noticed a gathering of Dementors nearby. The familiar light head of Mr. Malfoy flashed through the trees.

Suppressing a doomed groan, Henrietta gripped her wand tighter and went after him. Yes, she was not going to be a hero, but… A lady does not abandon a person in trouble if she can help him. Especially since Mr. Malfoy was her… cobber?

Carefully making her way through the trees, Anri followed the blond towards the lake, where the Dementors were hovering. Suddenly, Malfoy rushed forward, shielding someone from the Azkaban guards who were starting to approach him.

Malfoy looked at the Dementor with fear, but continued to shield the unconscious man.

"Expecto Patronum," Anri said calmly, sending the panther to disperse the Dementors.

Mr. Malfoy had lost consciousness by that point. The panther dispersed the Dementors and approached the unconscious men, poking them with its paw, as if checking if they were alive. Swinging its tail and hitting the unconscious man in the face, the panther disappeared into thin air as people began to approach the lake.

A branch snapped behind Anri. Turning around abruptly and not noticing anyone, Miss Potter carefully walked back to the school. She had had enough adventures and rescues for today. They were still alive, and that was good. And she still had to pack her things.

A shocked and grateful look of gray eyes looked at the girl's back, the owner of which should now be lying unconscious by the lake, and not hiding behind a tree from Henrietta.

Now Draco Malfoy knew who had saved him from the Dementors, whose Patronus it was. Henrietta Potter had helped him, and had also protected his mother's stupid cousin - Narcissa Malfoy had been Black before her marriage and still was. Thanks to her, he now had the opportunity to use the Time-Turner and save that idiot Sirius, while Granger was saving that damn hippogriff. At that moment, Granger herself approached him with the animal. Draco looked back one last time after Potter had left, and then, having humbled his pride and bowed, climbed onto the hippogriff's back - he still had to rescue his silly uncle from the tower and free him. Should he send a house-elf with him to keep an eye on him?..

Anri only found out who exactly she had saved in the evening at breakfast in the morning.

“Anri, can you imagine?” Padma turned to her excitedly when Henrietta sat down next to her at the table. “Sirius Black was caught by the lake yesterday!”

“Uh-huh,” Lisa agreed vaguely, chewing her sandwich, and after chewing, continued. “Only he escaped again. The window in the tower was torn out, the criminal is gone. The hippogriff, by the way, is also missing. A strange coincidence, isn’t it?” she drawled suggestively, sipping her pumpkin juice.

“By the way, I accidentally found out what’s wrong with this Ginny Weasley,” Sabrina sat closer. “It turns out she’s been in love with the Boy-Who-Lived since childhood, and now she just can’t take her eyes off ‘him,’” she giggled. “And no one explained the truth to her, poor thing. Should we feel sorry for her and tell her?..”

“She won’t believe it,” Lisa snorted. “Just like the rest of Gryffindor doesn’t believe it, she won’t believe it either. She’ll start stalking Anri even more. She comes to our common room every week anyway. Maybe we should ask Lovegood not to bring her anymore?”

Anri mentally shuddered, remembering how Miss Weasley devoured her with her eyes every time she came with her friend to the Ravenclaw common room.

“And here’s some more news for you,” Sabrina leaned towards them and lowered her voice. “Sirius Black was James Potter’s closest friend and,” she raised a finger, indicating the importance of the next words, “his child’s godfather.”

The girls all turned their gazes to the frozen Henrietta.

Yes, this year was definitely not a calm one. Miss Weasley, who was mistakenly in love with her; Professor Lupin, who was pestering her with stories about her parents, and who was starting to get a little annoying towards the end of the year; Dementors circling the school, hunting for an escaped criminal who was actually her godfather and whom she herself had saved from the Dementors by accident, after which he was caught and escaped again; Professor Trelawney, who persistently predicted a terrible death for her.

Approaching the Head before departure, Henrietta could not help but ask the question that interested her.

“Sir, do you know a spell that would make the next year quiet and calm?” Miss Potter asked with hope in her voice, looking at the understandingly grinning professor.

“Unfortunately, no, Henrietta,” he shook his head. “If I knew, I would use it myself with pleasure.”

And the disappointed Henrietta Potter, feeling that she would not see a quiet study next year either, went home to her beloved family, where her favorite cheesecake with cherries was already waiting for her.

Chapter Text

The tranquility of summer days with the family, full of tending roses, baking pies and embroidering, was broken by a large dark owl, who brought a letter. Having shaken her hands from flour, Henrietta put out some chicken fillet intended for Minuet for the bird and took the letter in her hands.

Mr. Malfoy Jr. invited her to attend the final of the Quidditch World Cup with his family. He described in detail how wonderful this event was and why it should not be missed under any circumstances. He also mentioned that in the envelope, in addition to the letter itself, there was a ticket to the upper box in her name and a simple pendant that would transport her to the right place at the specified time.

Of course, Mr. Malfoy did not forget to emphasize that it was thanks to him that the British Minister of Magic came up with the idea of ​​inviting a national hero to the upper box, so he hoped for a positive response and the presence of Miss Potter at an event of world significance as a guest of Minister Cornelius Fudge himself.

After a short sigh and some more meat for the owl, Henrietta went upstairs to get some paper and writing materials to send a reply to Mr. Malfoy via his owl.

If you omit the polite phrases and lengthy reflections necessary in a letter, the main point was contained in just one sentence.

"It will be a great honor for me to accept your invitation, Mr. Malfoy, and to attend such a significant event for our wonderful country in your company."

The owl, pleased with the treat, good-naturedly allowed the girl to tie the letter to an outstretched clawed paw and flew away, slightly scratching the windowsill.

Having checked the date of the World Cup and the departure time, Henrietta returned to the abandoned pie to discuss it with her aunt over dinner and solve the outfit problem.

Petunia, of course, began to be indignant that her niece had so frivolously accepted the guy's invitation, but calmed down when she found out that the invitation was from the Minister of Magic, and in addition to Mr. Lucius Malfoy and his son, there would also be Narcissa Malfoy, who in the magical world, according to rumors collected by Sabrina, was considered the standard of beauty, femininity and manners. However, she had a high enough position in society to ignore etiquette in some moments.

On the twenty-second of August, Henrietta Potter, wearing a long blue dress and with her curly hair tied back, a black robe thrown over her head and a portal pendant visible on her neck, was transported to Dartmoor, where the Quidditch World Cup was taking place. The Malfoy family appeared next to her, whom she immediately greeted politely.

Trusting Mr. Malfoy Sr., the girl slowly followed, looking around the campsite and listening to Draco's explanations. He told her about Quidditch, about the teams that had dropped out of the World Cup, about famous athletes, about the World Cup being held this year. And, of course, he unobtrusively reminded her that Miss Potter should be grateful to him for the opportunity to be here.

They went up to the upper box, where there were already several people, among whom, in the first of the two rows of chairs, Anri noticed with surprise the red-haired Weasley family. Cornelius Fudge, whom Miss Potter knew from photographs in the newspapers that Sabrina read, turned his attention to Mr. Malfoy senior.

“Ah, Fudge!” said Mr. Malfoy, approaching the Minister and extending his hand. “How are you? I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Narcissa? And our son, Draco? And this is Miss Henrietta Potter.”

“Good evening, good evening!” Fudge smiled and bowed to Mrs. Malfoy. “And may I introduce you to Mr. Oblansk… Obalonsk… Mr.… well, he’s the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and doesn’t understand a word I say, so don’t worry. And let’s see who else we have here? You are acquainted with Arthur Weasley, I presume? You chat for now, and I will introduce Mr. Potter to our guests.”

Henrietta did not like what the Minister was saying. He was very rude and, judging by the raised eyebrow of the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, he was wrong in his assumptions. While she could still understand the address "Mr. Potter", since most wizards still considered her a boy, such an attitude towards the head of government of another country...

The Minister of Magic, lit up, jumped up to Henrietta, grabbed her by the shoulders in a friendly manner, and led her to a tall, dark-haired man in a black velvet robe with gold trim. On the way, he leaned slightly towards her and whispered:

“Mr. Potter, could you dress less… Muggle? There are a bunch of journalists here, and you look…”

Henrietta knew what she looked like herself. And she looked wonderful, in her own opinion, and in the opinion of Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley and the Malfoy family. And this was an indicator, because if even a grumpy uncle and a naughty cousin paid her a compliment, then she really did look pretty good. If you know that she is a girl and wears a dress for that very reason.

“Harry Potter, you understand,” he loudly explained to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. “Harry Potter, come on, you know who that is… The boy who defeated You-Know-Who… Well, you must know who that is…”

Anri resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria would know about some boy in England! What nonsense. Just because every dog ​​in England knows about Harry Potter doesn't mean the whole world knows about him. And just because someone doesn't answer you doesn't mean they don't understand you.

If you've been hearing for ten years that Potter is a boy, and then Potter comes up to you in a dress and is introduced as "Miss," that doesn't mean Potter is weird and the person introducing him is wrong.

Allowing her lips to purse slightly in displeasure, Henrietta approached the Bulgarian Minister of Magic and, with a polite smile, curtsied, bowing her head.

"Henrietta Potter, sir. I hope you will be pleased with the Quidditch World Cup taking place in our country."

A lady must be able to save a situation, and in such a way as not to offend those being saved by her intervention.

Glancing at the departing Fudge, the Bulgarian Minister chuckled and bowed his head slightly in greeting.

"Prince[1] Stefan Oblonsky, young lady," he introduced himself in fairly good English. "We'll see how the game goes, but I've already been amused," he looked demonstratively at Mr. Fudge. "And pleased with the presence of such a well-mannered girl here. But," he frowned, casting an attentive glance at her, "may I ask why Mr. Fudge referred to you in the masculine gender?.."

"I'm afraid," Henrietta raised her eyebrows slightly, "this is a huge misunderstanding that has been going on for thirteen years now."

Glancing again at Miss Potter's figure and looking at Mr. Fudge, Prince Oblonsky snorted, clearly forming an unflattering opinion of the British Minister of Magic.

"And who are you rooting for, Miss Potter?" the man put his hands behind his back and raised his head, casting a quick glance at the field.

"For the winner, of course, sir," Henrietta allowed herself a sincere smile.

"Clever," the Minister of Bulgaria responded with a smile. "Then I think we are on the same side with you today," he clearly had no doubt in the victory of his country's team. "I assure you, my nephew knows how to surprise ..." he began, but interrupted himself, running into her scar with his eyes, which for a moment became visible due to the bangs flying off in the rising wind. Frowning, he took a step towards Henrietta and muttered something in Bulgarian. Coming to his senses, he seriously looked into the girl's eyes and said in a quiet voice: "Miss Potter, I strongly advise you to consult a specialist and get rid of ... this," he contemptuously pointed with his gaze at the scar, which again disappeared under the bangs. "The longer it is with you, the more difficult it will be afterwards. And this can lead to... not good results."

The girl was about to clarify what he was talking about, but a man burst into the box, who turned out to be a commentator for the Championship, and she had to return to her seat. The team mascots came out onto the field.

A hundred beautiful women from Bulgaria came out onto the field and started dancing, and then the male part of the spectators seemed to go crazy. They tried to jump down, confessed their love to women, and Irish fans tore off their green paraphernalia.

A cheerful chuckle was heard from Prince Oblonsky, which no one except Henrietta seemed to notice.

And when a rainbow appeared in the sky, consisting of many leprechauns, from which a rain of gold coins fell, Miss Potter was already holding back a snort. Leprechaun gold is fake, it dissolves in the air after a while. And watching how people excitedly picked it up and almost jumped out after it was... unpleasant. Honestly, the reaction to the mascot of Bulgaria, in Henri's opinion, was even better than to the mascot of Ireland. In any case, the desire for beauty sounds much more pleasant than the desire for gold.

The game began. And immediately picked up amazing speed. Henri had been to games between Houses at school, but they could not compare with what she saw in front of her now. And she really did not want to admit that the game had drawn her in. She carefully watched the players, feeling joy after each goal scored, no matter whose goal it was.

And suddenly two Seekers, who were supposed to chase a small winged ball away from the others, flew rapidly to the ground. It seemed that they were falling. Henrietta clutched the skirt of her dress with her fingers in excitement. It seemed to her that trouble was inevitable, that both players would crash. But no - the Bulgarian Seeker swerved at the very last moment, veering in the other direction, and the Irish Seeker crashed into the ground, but, it seemed, without serious injuries.

"Добре," was heard from the Minister of Bulgaria.

Anri did not know Bulgarian, but from the tone and the situation she determined that this was praise for the Seeker. And she could not help but agree - the Bulgarian Seeker was really good. However, this did not save him from the flying ball, which seemed to bruise his nose. More precisely, Henrietta really hoped that there was no fracture.

But the time-out was not called, as the referee was distracted by the quarrel of the raging mascots of the teams - the beautiful girls acquired the features of birds, covered themselves in scales and began to throw fire.

Meanwhile, the Irish Seeker rushed forward, clearly seeing his target, the capture of which would end the game and bring the team one hundred and fifty points. Looking at the score, Henrietta, with unexpected regret, realized that even if the winged ball had been caught by the Bulgarian Seeker, the victory would still have gone to Ireland. The chase was pointless, especially in the state that the Bulgarian Seeker was in.

But he clearly thought otherwise. Having abruptly rushed forward after his opponent, he was approaching the ground, again risking crashing. A trail of drops of blood stretched behind him, which clearly prevented him from seeing ahead. And both players were flying straight into the crowd of raging and spitting fire women. And the situation repeated itself - the Irish Seeker flew into the ground again, falling under the feet of the angry Bulgarian mascots, and the Bulgarian Seeker was able to direct the broom to the side with one hand, clutching the golden ball in the other.

Ireland won by ten points, but Bulgaria had the Snitch, the winged ball. And looking at the injured Seeker with his face covered in blood, Henrietta couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for him - he fought to the end, and even after losing, he finished the game on his own terms.

"Well, they fought bravely," Prince Oblonsky concluded gloomily, looking attentively at the athletes and medics gathered below.

"You speak English!" Fudge exclaimed indignantly. "And you've been watching me explain myself with gestures all day!"

"Well, that was very funny," the Bulgarian shrugged.

And Anri couldn't blame him even in her mind - it was stupid of the British Minister to think that he was completely misunderstood, and even to say such unpleasant things out loud right next to him.

The Bulgarian players came up to the upper box. They were all depressed, but what worried Miss Potter most was the state of their Seeker - he had dark shadows under his eyes, blood was caked on his face, he walked unsteadily and slouched, still clutching the Snitch in his hands.

When Prince Oblonsky shook his hand, as the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria, Henrietta noticed that the prince looked closely at the Seeker's face until he nodded briefly. And only then did the Minister of Bulgaria seem to relax.

In the tent camp, the Irish were celebrating their victory, and the Bulgarians were trying to soothe the bitterness of defeat. Miss Potter was walking slowly past the tents, not knowing where she was going, when she heard screams. People began to run in different directions, move somewhere, scream and knock down everything in their path.

Ladies don't run and scream.

That was Henrietta's biggest mistake. She was left completely alone in the middle of a burning tent camp and didn't run anywhere, escaping from the danger that was indicated by the approaching figures in dark cloaks, above which a guard was floating in the air, writhing in pain.

Anri took cover behind one of the tents that remained untouched. Cautiously looking out and not noticing the danger, she hurried toward the forest, where there should have been more places to hide, but she still didn't run.

Ladies don't run.

A man in a dark cloak and a silver mask on his face appeared ahead. He also noticed Henrietta. There was nowhere to hide.

The girl began to slowly back away, afraid to provoke the man with sudden actions. He raised his wand and sent a bright red beam of some kind of spell in her direction.

"Припокриване!" a short shout was heard nearby, a strong hand pressed her to the stranger, forcing her to fall to the ground with him. "Отблъсквам!"

She was grabbed by the hand and dragged towards the forest.

Ladies don't run.

But she had no choice now, did she?

So she picked up the hem of her dress and tried to move her legs faster, following her, apparently, rescuer. They ran for a long time, stopping only deep in the forest, going behind a wide tree.

The man who saved her leaned against the tree trunk, breathing noisily. Anri fell to the ground, choking. Her throat was burning unbearably, as were her lungs, her head was spinning, and colored spots were flying before her eyes.

He pulled her towards him, helping her up. Henri leaned her head tiredly against the man's shoulder, unable to stand up straight on her own.

"Are you... in right?" the savior asked with a strong accent, looking into Henrietta's eyes.

His own were piercingly black, peering into the very soul. His thick dark eyebrows were frowning. He supported her, not letting her fall, although he himself clearly did not feel very well - his nose was an unhealthy blue color and had obviously been recently broken. Noticing this, Henri reached into the pocket of her robe and, taking out a clean handkerchief and a wand, conjured ice, which she put in the handkerchief, wrapping it up.

She carefully reached her hand up to the man's face and placed the cold on his nose. He gave a sigh of relief and an inarticulate thank you. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cold on the injured area, and held the ice pack with his hand.

"Thank you for your help, sir," Henrietta said quietly, afraid to speak loudly.

"You in trouble was," he answered, without opening his eyes. "Why you not run?"

He finally opened his eyes and looked at her sternly, frowning. He couldn't understand why she was so slow, and then froze in place, when anyone else in her place would have run away long ago.

Henrietta only smiled wryly, unable to find the words to answer. Ladies don't run. That's all she could say. It would sound downright stupid.

"Careful," he threw his head back, listening. "Dark mages."

Oh, she understood that perfectly well. Because there was no other way to describe the people who had disrupted the international event - criminals were criminals.

"Have to go," the man suddenly said, looking at her. "Can walk?"

Anri raised an eyebrow and couldn't help but snort nervously. She moved away from the stranger, walked forward, and then looked back at him.

"Свободно момиче," the man muttered, twitching the corner of his lips, and followed her, holding her elbow.

Anri would never admit that she was pleased with his concern. However, he himself saw this from the delicate blush on her face, frozen in a mask of indifference.

A scream was heard from somewhere. Henrietta tensed up, ready to take out her wand and defend herself, recalling the spells she had learned, despite the ban on conjuring - conjured ice could still be missed, especially near an adult foreign wizard, but combat spells were controlled very strictly. But her companion shouted something back in an unfamiliar language.

Soon they came to a clearing where the Ministers and teams were, strangers in official suits and red robes too.

"Притеснени сме, но той се разхожда с момиче!" someone from the Bulgarian side shouted indignantly.

"Вейла се разхождаше някъде там," her savior answered, pressing her a little closer to himself and frowning, "трябва да се тревожите за тях."

"Ще се тревожиш за такива хора... ще го изгорят и никой няма да забележи," someone else grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Henrietta with displeasure.

Moving away from the stranger, Henri curtsied, bowing her head and lowering her eyes to the ground.

"Thank you for your help, sir, I will never forget your kindness."

And without raising her eyes to the man, Miss Potter went to the two Ministers, hoping to find out how she could get home.

The savior looked after her, lifting the corner of his lips in a semblance of a smile, clutching a silk handkerchief in his hand, wet with melted ice.

[1] Well, to be honest, there is some problem. His real title in origin is not prince but «князь», and it seems like there isn’t any the same word in English. The meaning of this title is between «prince», «duke» and «grand duke». English Wikipedia usually translates it as «prince» but just know that he is not a son of a king, he himself the sort of a king. And if you interested, his real title pronounced like «Knyaz'»

Chapter Text

With her lips pursed in displeasure and breathing hard through her nose, trying to calm down, Henrietta sat down at the Ravenclaw table a little more abruptly than she should have, letting her hair down, wringing it out and quickly braiding it back. She removed the water with the help of magic. Padma, groaning from the unpleasant humidity, sat down next to her, immediately tugging at some older student to show her the charms for drying clothes and keeping warm. And as soon as she dried herself, she immediately turned to Anri, helping her.

Miss Potter smiled blissfully, forgetting about everyone else for a moment. Sitting in wet clothes was no fun. It was pouring rain and thunderstorming outside, and they had no umbrella, no cloak, or anything else. But they had woolen robes that absorbed moisture well and dried poorly.

Lisa, wincing at her wet hair, twisted it at the back of her head and, following Miss Lovegood's example, secured it there with her wand.

"What?" she raised her eyebrows at the skeptical look of Sabrina, who had just arrived. A completely dry Sabrina. "I'll polish it later and take care of it, right now I'm more concerned about my hair."

The first part of the festive feast was spent drying themselves and grumbling about the rain and thunderstorm, and the second - at the dinner itself. Sabrina, forgetting about her diet, helped herself to golden fatty chicken and mashed potatoes with cream, Lisa and Padma enjoyed a hot vegetable stew, and Henrietta herself took a pork chop and boiled potatoes. After such weather, no one was up to diets and decency, they just wanted to warm up and eat. Anri, however, did not forget about manners and etiquette, using a knife and fork for their intended purpose, which some neglected due to hunger and cold.

Henrietta ignored the introduction of the new teacher and the announcement of some event. Lately her thoughts were occupied by strange dreams that she had begun to have not so long ago. Half of them were scary - she saw a graveyard, a huge snake, an ugly creature the size of a baby without a nose, a man with rat-like features, whose very appearance disgusted her. The other half was pleasant, although no less strange - Anri saw a black-eyed man in a blood-red cloak with black fur, who sat on a stone throne with a goblet of wine in his hands. Sometimes he talked with other men, laughing happily, sometimes - and these dreams were also not very pleasant - he was on the battlefield with a sword. Only when she returned to Hogwarts and sat at the festive feast, Miss Potter remembered why he seemed familiar to her - it was him she imagined on the day she first saw Hogwarts.

Because of the missed announcement and the desire to spend most of her time in the quiet of the library, away from the students who had become too noisy, Anri did not understand the fuss that had arisen in mid-October. The teachers were hissing at everyone and assigning detentions for nothing, every corridor was carefully washed, the armor was cleaned to a mirror shine, all the spiders and bats were chased away or evicted under the roof. Everyone was nervous, and Henrietta could not understand what she had missed, hovering in her thoughts.

“The Triwizard Tournament, Anri!” Sabrina flared up indignantly. “What were you listening to?!”

“We have delegations from the French Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute coming to visit us,” Lisa explained more clearly, without looking up from filing her nails. "There will be a competition between representatives of our schools, which, in theory, should be held every four years, but this Tournament will be the first in this century."

"And there will be a lot of boys," Padma grinned, looking slyly at Lisa, who twitched the corner of her lips.

"Of course," she nodded in agreement, still not looking up from her nails.

Henrietta resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, what else could cause such excitement among the female half of Hogwarts if not the arrival of foreign guys? Of course, they should be strong, handsome and free. However, Anri doubted that they were much different from the boys from Hogwarts.

The idea of ​​the tournament itself did not inspire Anri, especially its descriptions in books and newspapers. And the forced wait for the guests in the cold completely killed any desire to even look at it. She just wanted to wrap herself in a warm blanket and warm up, and not freeze on the street, trying to spy out who knows what.

However, the huge carriage, harnessed by no less huge winged horses with golden hooves and golden-crimson eyes, impressed her. The woman over three meters tall who got out of it also impressed her. But she felt sorry for the students in soft blue satin robes who flew out after their director.

The Durmstrang students, who arrived on a ship emerging from the lake, were better prepared. Even a little too much, in Henrietta's opinion - they were in voluminous shaggy fur coats and hats.

But the main surprise from the Durmstrang Institute was almost at the end, sullenly burying his nose in the collar of his fur coat and looking around with a piercing gaze of black eyes.

Of course, Anri understands that this is strange, because nothing special happened, but she is even glad that the Beauxbatons students sat down at their table, and the "northern bears", as Sabrina unflatteringly called them, chose the Slytherin table.

Because among them was her savior from the Quidditch World Cup, who was also, as it turned out, one of the best Seekers in the world, Viktor Krum, diligently slouching and dressed in a blood-red robe of a Durmstrang student. Anri diligently did not look in the direction of the guys in red robes. For some reason, she felt awkward because she did not recognize him, because of how stupidly she behaved, and because he was here now.

And he will be here for the entire school year.

It was dark in the forest then, his nose was blue and swollen, and during the match itself and afterwards, in the upper box, she barely saw his face. It wasn't her fault, just a coincidence, a joke of fate. But for some reason it was awkward to look in his direction. Even though she wanted to. But even when she plucked up her courage and glanced back furtively, Anri saw only his hunched back.

This hunching seemed somehow unnatural to Anri.

The next day was a day off, and Anri decided to spend it in the library, reading history books.

In fact, she had run away to avoid seeing one particular Durmstrang student who would definitely be in the Great Hall to throw a piece of paper with his name on it into the Goblet.

But she had to go to the gala dinner. Miss Potter was nervous and couldn't eat a bite, so she swayed the goblet of pumpkin juice in her hand, looking at the starry sky on the ceiling, until Headmaster Dumbledore's voice was heard.

The Goblet of Fire was filled with blue flames, inspiring a feeling of anxiety. Henrietta loved blue, but blue fire was too much. Too unnatural.

The first name to fly out of the Goblet of Fire was - who would have doubted it - Viktor Krum. The hall exploded with applause and joyful shouts. Then came the name of Fleur Delacour - a charming blonde from Beauxbatons, who had charmed a decent part of the Hogwarts students with her beauty. The last was Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff student, prefect and Seeker of the Quidditch team.

Henrietta decided to stop torturing the pumpkin juice and take a sip, when in the deathly silence, Headmaster Dumbledore's hoarse voice said:

"Harry Potter."

Forcing herself to swallow the juice instead of spitting it back out, Anri slammed the goblet down on the table, closing her eyes and hoping she had misheard.

One year. One quiet year. Is she asking for too much?

"Harry Potter!" came the voice again.

"Anri, I think you should go," Padma whispered, pushing her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Henrietta Potter rose to her feet and walked forward, her head held high.

A lady never loses her dignity and does not allow herself to bend under unpleasant circumstances.

Having taken from the headmaster a piece of paper with the inscription "H. Potter", which she usually uses to sign homework, the girl went through the door behind which the Tournament champions had disappeared earlier.

Having entered the room, Anri met the black eyes of Krum, who turned around at the creak of the door. And only now, when he was standing by the fireplace, did she realize who he reminded her of. And with a mental doomed groan, she realized that he was almost exactly like the man she had been dreaming about for months.

Krum frowned, glaring at her. Suppressing the urge to shrug, Henrietta, her back perfectly straight, in contrast to his slouched, walked up to the three champions, standing slightly to the side.

Miss Potter had already foreseen the scandal.

And it did not take long to arrive.

All three Headmasters, the Quidditch World Cup commentator who had become the Triwizard Tournament commentator, and the Head of International Magical Cooperation burst into the room. They all started shouting, Headmaster Dumbledore shaking her shoulders in an utterly tactless manner.

“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” Henrietta said quietly, keeping her expression impassive, “could you please let me go?” The long, old fingers relaxed, unhooking themselves from the sleeves of her robes. “Thank you, sir,” she nodded slightly and turned to the Head of International Magical Cooperation, Bartemius Crouch. “Mr. Crouch, sir, I beg your pardon, could you please tell me the exact wording of the rules? Do they say that the person whose name is drawn out of the cup must become the champion of the Tournament, or only participate in the Tournament?”

"This person is obliged to participate in the Tournament," Mr. Crouch frowned, his hands shaking nervously.

"Professor Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff," Anri addressed the school directors respectfully, "is it possible for me to participate in the Tournament without becoming the fourth champion, since I am forced to participate in any case due to the magical contract with the Goblet of Fire?"

"We can feed you to some creature and that's it," Karkaroff muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I think that's possible, Mr. Potter," Mr. Crouch nodded, jerking his head. "But you must pass the first test with the champions."

"Thank you, sir," Anri bowed her head. "Then, with your permission, I will take part in the Tournament without becoming a champion."

A piercing, dark gaze came from somewhere behind her, but Anri didn't turn around.

The common room was… strange. The Ravenclaws were bickering and celebrating, hurling curses at each other and drinking butterbeer. Anri had slipped into her dorm unnoticed and leaned wearily against the door, allowing her shoulders to sag slightly.

"Can we hear it first-hand?" Padma's voice came from up ahead.

Raising her head, Henrietta saw her friends sitting at the tea table with cups of hot tea. They looked at her with interest, but nothing more. They did not blame her for being able to bypass the age limit, because of which Sabrina walked around with a beard until the evening, they were not happy about her participation in the Tournament. They just wanted to know what happened.

“I’m participating in the Triwizard Tournament,” Anri said in an indifferent voice, joining the girls and taking a cup of tea in her hands.

“My condolences,” Lisa immediately responded.

“Then we’ll think about how to save you,” Padma sighed, hypnotizing the tea in her cup.

“I can try to find out what will happen at the first test,” Sabrina immediately suggested.

“Girls…,” Anri drawled in a strange tone, which made her roommates tense up. "Thank you. Really, thank you."

Smiles immediately appeared on the girls' faces.

"We're friends, Anri," Lisa twitched the corner of her lips.

"If anything, I can set snakes on someone," Padma suggested with her eyes closed, sipping her tea.

"Oh, and I can set up a spy network in Hogwarts!" Sabrina jumped up. "We'll be like super-agents. We'll have the latest information from different points of view."

"That is, gossip from different people," Lisa muttered barely audibly, biting into a cake.

Henrietta smiled, watching the squabble that had broken out between Lisa and Sabrina. Padma calmly drank tea, occasionally humming a melody. Peace and harmony.

Anri was happy to call these girls her friends.

The next day she was pulled out of Charms for the wand-checking ceremony. And Miss Potter wasn't sure what she disliked more when she entered the room - Krum's dark gaze or the anticipation of an unknown woman with a vulgar combination of colors in her outfit.

However, after the "interview" for which she was unceremoniously dragged into the broom closet, Anri was sure that she would rather be glared at by Krum than be in a closed room with this "shark of a pen."

Ritta Skitter, as the journalist introduced herself, tried to interview all the Champions, but the wary Krum moved away from her and remained silent, not answering any of the questions even with a nod. After that, Anri was already sure that Krum's company was much better than Miss Skitter's. Therefore, forgetting about awkwardness, embarrassment and other unnecessary feelings, she stood closer to Krum, moving after him from the journalist.

The guy, of course, noticed her maneuver, unlike the rest of those present, but, to Henrietta's surprise, he grinned, began to look less gloomy, and even straightened his shoulders a little.

His stoop is unnatural - Anri noticed once again.

When the wandmaker arrived, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was tired of the persistent journalist. First, Mr. Ollivander checked Miss Delacour's wand, the core of which turned out to be a hair from her Veela grandmother's head. Then they checked Mr. Diggory's wand, which he admitted he had polished only yesterday. When it was Krum's turn, he stood up, shrugged, hunched over, and waddled up to the wandmaker. He held out his wand and, putting his hands in his pockets, frowned. He reminded Henri of a large bird of prey, raising its shoulders and warily watching its prey.

Blinking, clearing away unnecessary thoughts and associations, Miss Potter approached Mr. Ollivander, holding out her wand to him. Light hazel wood and unicorn hair at the core, a sensitive and gentle wand, strong enough in the right hands and so loyal that it stops working when its owner begins to die.

Professor Dumbledore was about to let them all go, giving them the opportunity to have lunch, when Miss Skitter reminded them about the photographs. General and separate. Anri, who did not expect anything good from this journalist, only slightly raised the corners of her lips in a semblance of a polite smile.

She, on Miss Skitter's initiative, was put in front of everyone, which she was very unhappy about, but did not show it. Journalists like Miss Skitter, just give them a reason to come up with a sensation, they will immediately paint it in colors on three sheets of paper and report it in such a way that try to prove later that you did not say it, did not do it, and in general you were not there. Therefore, Henrietta obediently pretended to smile, restraining herself. Although, when she left, her sensitive wand made of hazel, without the knowledge of its owner, released a small charge of lightning in Miss Skitter's direction, which hit the target.

Heading towards the Great Hall with the hope of a quiet and delicious dinner, Anri did not expect that Viktor Krum would catch up with her, silently walking next to her. And, it would seem, everything in him was the same, but ...

He wasn't slouching. At all. And he was walking smoothly and silently, confidently, and at the same time as if sneaking. Straight back, wide shoulders. As if he wasn't that Viktor Krum who literally just before her eyes was shuffling and raising his shoulders, slouching and waddling.

They walked silently along the still empty corridors. Anri was looking at the guy out of the corner of her eye, while he was looking only ahead, as if not noticing the girl walking next to him. And only the trembling corner of his lips betrayed that he saw her, noticing her straight posture and proudly raised chin, her shoulders thrown back and small, smooth steps.

There was a sound of footsteps at the end of the corridor. Krum frowned for a moment, then raised his hand in greeting.

“Viktor! Are you free yet?” A boy in a Durmstrang uniform, vaguely familiar to Anri, was approaching them. “Oh,” he raised his eyebrows, staring at Anri. “Дори нямахме време да пристигнем, а ти вече взе момиче!” He squinted, peering at her. “Yes, she is those one… Момичето с изумрудени очи! Hey, Viktor, when did you manage to…?”

“Направи ми услуга и млъкни,” Krum said, walking forward and entering the Great Hall, hunching his back again.

“Enjoy your dinner, miss,” the Durmstrang student waved his hand and disappeared through the doors.

Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Henrietta shook her head slightly and entered the hall, hoping to have lunch today after all. Was that at least something she could count on?

The next day she had no chance to eat at all, and it was all the fault of Miss Skitter's creation. And "Mr. Potter" had his mother's green eyes, and the look of a naive fawn, and "he" was shaking all over like an aspen in the wind, and tears were dripping from his huge eyes, and he was all skinny-small-beaten... And he himself threw his name into the Goblet of Fire to attract attention to himself, which he had been deprived of after the death of his parents.

Completely calm and not at all nervous, Henrietta burned her copy of the Daily Prophet and, slowly getting up, walked out of the hall with dignity, deciding to go straight to class. She also skipped lunch and dinner, reading in the library, not wanting to catch the pitying or mocking glances of the entire school, especially the foreign students.

But in the evening, a full hearty dinner from the girls with delicious tea and cakes awaited her. After such a dinner, she didn’t even want to drown the respected Rita Skitter in the lake.

For now.

Chapter Text

Henrietta lazily leafed through the pages of an ancient book, sitting at a cozy table in the library. It was already dark outside and the only light came from torches and a flying lantern-light created by Miss Potter. It smelled pleasantly of old books and dust, the chair was soft and cozy. She didn’t want to read horror stories about dragons and other magical creatures and beasts at all. But she had to.

Sabrina’s “spy network”, very accurately called by Lisa a collection of all sorts of gossip and rumors, brought the news that four dragons were delivered to the Forbidden Forest. Females with clutches. Dragonologists were watching them and carefully concealed the presence of dangerous creatures near the school.

As if something as important as a dragon could be hidden from irrepressible schoolchildren who knew the area better than visiting specialists.

Anri was already starting to get a headache. What could the Tournament organizers have come up with the dragons? And, most importantly, what should she do in this situation? In the first test, she would be participating on par with the champions, for whom this was a test that required high skills and strength. The champions were each three or four years older than her, they had more experience, knowledge, and skills. They knew what they were getting into when they threw their names into the Goblet of Fire. She had been dragged into this and reinforced with a magical contract with the Goblet so that she would not run away.

The library was quiet, most of the students were currently doing their homework or waiting for dinner in the Great Hall. Librarian Madam Pince rustled the pages of her book almost inaudibly. Somewhere behind the shelves, the scratching of quills on parchment could be heard. The howling of the wind outside the window seemed to form the melody of a lullaby. Her eyes began to stick together. Henrietta's head slowly bowed to her shoulder, her hand relaxed on the pages of the book.

Anri didn't want to wake up at all. It was warm and cozy, the blanket softly wrapped her up and smelled pleasantly of spruce, bringing back memories of Christmas evenings with her family near the coniferous tree, when they sang Christmas carols, laughed and drank hot chocolate with cinnamon.

Thinking about Christmas, Anri frowned as she returned to the blanket. As she remembered, she was in the library and hadn't gone to bed. Her stiff neck immediately made itself known, forcing her to get up and stretch a little. Feeling a pleasant warmth in her muscles, Anri sleepily opened her eyes, immediately freezing.

Viktor Krum was sitting next to her, lazily leafing through a book, just like she had been before. A black jacket slid off her shoulders, which Anri mistook for a blanket. The jacket that Krum wore in his free time.

To Henrietta's great happiness, Krum wasn't looking at her and shouldn't have seen her sleepy stretching. Deciding not to disturb the quiet peace, the girl settled herself more comfortably in the armchair, pulling her jacket over her shoulders instead of a blanket and pulling the book onto her lap, returning to reading.

They sat in silence and read. Anri occasionally glanced at the guy sitting next to her, but didn't hold them for long. He was tiredly hunched over his shoulders and resting his head on his hand. He turned the pages with a sharp movement of his wrist, sometimes writing something in his notebook, without taking his eyes off the book. His brows were not furrowed. It seemed that Krum was now relaxed and feeling comfortable.

"Ten minutes until lights out," Madame Pince announced quietly.

With a sigh, Anri rose from the armchair, returning the book to the shelf. An outstretched male hand appeared before her eyes. Krum wanted to... see her off?

Raising her eyebrows slightly in surprise, Henrietta nevertheless did not refuse, touching his palm with her fingertips. He really did walk her to the Ravenclaw common room, even helping her carry her bag with her textbooks. And then, nodding his head tiredly or even sleepily and carefully taking his jacket, without further ado, he hurried to the Durmstrang ship, where he lived with the rest of the students.

In the library, he would sometimes silently sit down next to her and read. Sometimes he would push a book on a useful spread towards her, offering to look at it. It was strange, but after the short phrase “I don’t know how you do magic, but you can’t run,” Anri would simply look at the book, nodding gratefully. And in response, she would show him useful spreads and chapters from her books. They didn’t talk, but it was comfortable to be silent with him. There was no tension between them, but Anri didn’t notice a feeling of cold detachment either. Sometimes, Krum would turn to her with a request to explain unfamiliar words. Most of the books at Hogwarts were in English, which the boy had problems with, although his spoken part, as Henrietta noticed from infrequent phrases, had improved over the past two months. He spoke slowly and with an accent, deliberately trying to pronounce every word correctly, but the inconsistency of words had almost ceased to appear.

However, the girls following him around, giggling and trying to flirt with the Bulgarian, were a little annoying with the noise they created. But at such moments, Krum did not sit down next to Henrietta, for which she was very grateful. The only thing she needed was the jealousy of the famous athlete's fans to complete the set of problems with this Tournament. There were more than enough of them without that - from the participation in the Tournament itself to the unforgettable Miss Skitter, who released a new article, which said that Harry Potter "found his first love at Hogwarts, with whom he constantly appears next - the beautiful Indian and excellent student Padma Patil." Padma's reaction to this article was about the same as Henrietta's - throw the newspaper in the fire and forget about this nonsense. And also eat cakes and wash it down with tea, so as not to throw the journalist who brazenly distorted the facts from some tower.

Anri had prepared for the first test of the Tournament, but she still hoped that everything would be fine. It was a very weak hope, given the experience of previous Triwizard Tournaments, but it was there.

All hope was destroyed when Anri's soft, light palm held a small figurine of a black Hungarian Horntail, a dragon considered the most dangerous of all species. And she would have to take a golden egg from the clutch of this very Hungarian Horntail.

Anri really wanted to ask if the organizers had found a more painful way to commit suicide or if this was the best they could come up with, but she held back. She only pursed her lips until they became one thin line, and the fingers of her right hand convulsively squeezed her wand while the girl looked into the yellow eyes of the little dragon sitting on her left hand.

Anri did not look at the other participants of the Tournament, not wanting to see pity or hostility in their eyes. There was no way she would stoop to accepting pitying glances. It would be better to actually boldly jump into the dragon's mouth. At least he would look at her normally.

Diggory left first, followed by Delacour. Henrietta was left alone with Krum. He was glaring darkly at the fabric of the Champions' tent. Then, as if sensing that the next one would be called, he stood up.

"Върни се жив и на крака," he said to her, looking over his shoulder, and left.

Anri heard the screams of the spectators and the roar of the dragon. She only hoped that there would be no casualties and that everyone would remain alive. She hadn't cared about the results of the Tournament before, and she still didn't care.

A whistle blew. Miss Potter took a deep breath and stepped out of the tent, immediately meeting the yellow eyes of the Horntail. The spectators were making noise, irritating both the dragon and Henrietta.

Anri did not take her eyes off the Horntail's eyes. For a human, this would have been a breach of etiquette, but in this situation it was an indication of determination, a lack of fear. In this way, Anri put herself on par with the Horntail. Miss Potter was not going to run around and throw spells.

Ladies do not make a mockery of themselves and do not amuse the public, like clowns in a circus.

Anri quietly sang a lullaby, which Aunt Petunia sang to her in childhood and from the sound of which even capricious Dudley calmed down. Music is an international language. It is perceived regardless of appearance, mentality, customs. At the same time, she gradually approached the Horntail, gradually descending to the ground.

The Horntail slowly, following Anri, pressed itself against the nest.

When the dragon was a few meters away and Anri was almost sitting on the ground, the girl extended her hand, palm down, to the Horntail. The female dragon stepped off the nest, causing a storm in the stands, and nuzzled the small palm of the human girl.

“Thank you for your trust,” Anri said softly, lightly stroking the Horntail’s outstretched nose. “But look around, that’s not your egg. You’ve been deceived,” she slowly moved her hand to the side, pointing to the clutch of dragon eggs.

The Horntail turned around and sniffed warily. Slowly standing up, Anri walked smoothly and in small steps to the nest under the watchful gaze of the Horntail, whose spiky tail was dangerously close to Miss Potter, guarding the nest.

The golden egg lay on the edge. Anri approached and, turning to the Horntail, touched it with the very tips of her fingers. The female dragon lunged forward, freezing abruptly right in front of Henrietta's face.

Eye to eye. Dragon gold and emerald green. Horntail brought her muzzle closer to the nest and sniffed. Then she roared, releasing a pillar of flame into the sky. She pushed the golden egg out of the nest, handing it to Anri and curling up on her nest, threateningly wagging her tail with sharp spikes.

“Thank you for your help,” Anri bowed, showing that Horntail was now in charge, and slowly walked away, picking up the egg.

The stands exploded with applause.

Krum met her at the entrance to the medic’s tent. There was an approving smile on his face. He nodded to her and held the cloth, letting her in.

Anri sat down and only then felt herself shaking. It was scary, very scary. At any moment she could be crushed, eaten, burned to the ground... But she was alive. She had coped. And she did not show her weakness to others.

A lady comes out of any situation with dignity and her head held high.

The next two days Anri did not leave her bedroom, embroidering, reading and playing the violin. After such stress, she simply needed to rest and come to her senses. The girls helped her a lot with this, bringing food and, most importantly, lots of delicious cakes and tea.

And after the first test of the Tournament, the whole school was thrown into chaos because of the upcoming holiday - on Christmas Day, Hogwarts was holding a Yule Ball in honor of the Champions, to which she would have to come with a partner and in formal attire.

Anri was unsure whether she should go to the ball, skipping Christmas with her family. After all, you can't stay only for the day of the Yule Ball and then leave. You either attend the ball or go home. But Minuet brought an angry letter from Aunt Petunia, who insisted that Henrietta attend the ball. For such a special event, a delicate coffee-colored dress with a chiffon scarf was even specially bought in the summer, as the letter said to bring festive clothes with her.

The problem with the partner was more significant. Anri, as a girl, considered it extremely improper for herself to invite someone to the ball. But most of the students at the school considered her a guy, the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Therefore, an invitation to the ball could probably not be expected. Especially knowing how closely one particularly impudent journalist was following "Mr. Potter" and his personal life.

Anri was sitting in the library in the evening, embroidering lilies on a ribbon for Sabrina in her company, when, lost in thought, she pricked her finger with a needle until it bled. And she looked at the scarlet drop that appeared in bewilderment. Miss Potter could not remember the last time she pricked her finger so hard.

Sabrina squealed and began to fuss, jumping up and rushing into the room for a potion for wounds. Anri looked after her in surprise, not understanding such a reaction.

A neatly folded dark handkerchief suddenly appeared before her eyes. Looking up, Henrietta saw Krum choosing a book nearby. He handed her his handkerchief, obviously to stop the bleeding.

“Thank you, sir,” the girl smiled, accepting the handkerchief.

Because of the dark color, the blood will not be so visible on it. Wash it and it will be as good as new. Anri promised herself to bring the handkerchief into a decent condition in the near future and return it to its owner.

“You should be more careful,” the guy nodded at the white ribbon, on which a red stain was spreading. Small, but bright.

Anri pursed her lips, looking at the ruined efforts of the last two days. Although, perhaps if she embroidered a leaf here… and added leaves in a few other places… yeah, that would definitely save the situation and freshen up Sabrina's outfit.

"I'm usually more careful and don't make such mistakes," Anri shook her head slightly, not understanding why she was making excuses. "It seems like I have too many thoughts in my head."

"The Yule Ball?" Krum came closer, looking over Miss Potter for other blood stains.

"And the Yule Ball too," Henrietta nodded. "Although," she chuckled slightly, covering her lips with her hand, allowing herself to relax a little in his company, "I probably won't be there."

"Why?" the guy frowned, slightly looming over the girl sitting in the chair.

"I'm afraid I won't get an invitation to the ball," Anri answered with a soft and even slightly guilty smile. "And to go without a partner..." She shook her head, showing that it was simply unacceptable.

"Don't you want to go with me?"

"With you, sir?" Henrietta looked at her interlocutor in surprise, who winced slightly at the English manner of address. "Don't you have a partner yet?"

"I'm inviting one right now. Защо се нуждаете от лайка, когато можете да получите луксозна роза?" The guy rested his hand on the back of her chair, looking with his piercing black eyes, it seemed, straight into her soul.

Viktor Krum was not handsome, as Henrietta's friends said. In their opinion, his facial features were too rough and sharp, his nose too big and uneven, his eyebrows too thick... Anri found his deep dark eyes, the hump on his nose left by the fracture, his simple but harmonious facial features, his beautifully shaped thick dark eyebrows attractive. He really did look like a large bird of prey. But not like a condor, which aroused Anri's aversion by its very appearance, not to mention its feeding on carrion, but like a golden eagle, charming with its predatory grace, the sullen look of its attentive eyes and the aura of power surrounding a dangerous bird.

And now Henrietta felt a little uncomfortable when she realized that under the gaze of this guy, who was completely unlike the prince that girls dream of in childhood, but looked like a brave warrior, she could not refuse him. And she did not want to. The gaze did not force, did not beg. He watched her, her facial expressions, tried to track her thoughts, to predict her next actions. He did not consider himself above or below her. It was as if he saw her... as an equal. He looked with caution and interest, as if he were studying her. And this was unexpectedly pleasant. Usually, Anri was considered rather weak and spineless because of her politeness. People did not see beyond the mask of a polite smile and adherence to etiquette, did not notice that, despite someone else's words, Miss Potter still does everything the way she considers necessary, and does not submit to other people's rules if she does not accept them herself.

"It would be an honor to go to the ball with you, Mr. Krum," Henrietta smiled, holding out her hand.

To be honest, she sincerely thought that Krum would simply shake her hand. But he leaned down and touched his lips to her knuckles, not taking his eyes off her.

"Victor," he corrected, not letting go of the girl's fingers.

"Victor," Anri stretched her lips a little wider, agreeing. "Then you can call me by my name."

"As you wish, Henrietta," he touched his lips to her hand again and stood up, leaving the library.

And it took Miss Potter a moment to realize that she had never once given him her real name, and at school the only one who called her "Henrietta" was Professor Flitwick, who would have called her Miss Potter in a conversation with a stranger. Her friends called her Anri, the rest - by her last name or the already hated "Harry". So how could the Bulgarian know her name?..

They were preparing for the Yule Ball - they matched their outfits, making sure that Henrietta's coffee-colored dress matched the fur on Victor's cloak, matching his uniform, they practiced dancing, getting used to each other, and simply began to talk sometimes about unrelated topics. Anri began to feel so comfortable in Victor's company that she even allowed herself to grumble out loud a little about the completely stupid Yule Ball tradition - girls wearing their hair down. She always tied her hair up. Even when Mr. Hagrid burst into their house in the middle of the night, she found time to quickly braid her hair. Victor, meanwhile, was trying to figure out what one very prominent Gryffindor student from the scandalous trio was doing. This year, the defender of the oppressed, Miss Granger, decided to take up the liberation of house-elves from "slave labor" and force wizards to pay them money, give them vacations and days off - which for the elves themselves, in fact, was almost a mortal insult. Mr. Malfoy, who tried to explain this to the stubborn girl, received only a ton of insults in response, which Mr. Weasley, who was always close to Miss Granger, would usually join in - a scandalous trio in all its glory. Hissing at each other, swearing and getting into trouble together. And attracting too much unwanted attention. Because Victor had about the same reaction to the explanation of the essence of Miss Granger's action as Mr. Malfoy, which meant that Hogwarts' reputation with foreign students would fall if they found out about the "elf liberation movement."

Padma, Lisa and Sabrina were also preparing for the ball, discussing outfits, hairstyles, dances, manners and, of course, their partners every evening. Sabrina was going with a Hufflepuff boy she was dating, Padma was invited by a Beauxbatons student, and Lisa smiled slyly and hinted that her beau was from Durmstrang. But judging by her words, there was some kind of catch with her partner. Sabrina even jokingly suggested that Lisa was going with Viktor Krum himself.

What the catch really was, Anri found out on the evening of December 25, when Viktor introduced her to his friend Alexei Levski, a Chaser for the Bulgarian Quidditch team and assistant to the headmaster of Durmstrang, who was two years older than Viktor himself. And he was Lisa's partner at the Yule Ball.

Liza and Mr. Levski had to enter the hall earlier, as the Champions and their partners had to enter last and all together, so that all the attention would be focused on them. Anri exchanged glances with Diggory's partner Miss Chang from her House, who gave her a thumbs up in approval - as a Ravenclaw student, she knew perfectly well that Potter was a girl, so she was glad to see her, finally, not in a figure-hiding robe, but in a dress with a flowing skirt and a tight bodice, which perfectly showed off her feminine figure. Over her bare shoulders was thrown a light chiffon scarf, which Henrietta embroidered with gold threads and beads, adding a little dark red so that her outfit matched a little better with Viktor's blood-red uniform with coffee-colored fur on the cloak thrown over one shoulder. Diggory and Delacour looked at her in surprise, apparently only now realizing that their “rival” in the first round was a fourteen-year-old girl.

Slightly moving her shoulder nervously, throwing back her hair, part of which she still braided into a thin braid on the back of her head, Anri gave her hand in a lace glove to Victor, preparing to enter the hall. And already feeling the withering glances on herself.

Despite the burning glances and whispers, the ball, in Anri's opinion, was simply wonderful. They danced and enjoyed the icy decorations of the hall, which did not make them feel cold. It was fun, Victor, no doubt succumbing to the festive atmosphere, became more talkative. Talking with him was a pleasure for Anri, and dancing - even more so. He confidently led her, avoiding collisions with other couples, and talked to her right during the dance. He invariably looked her straight in the eyes. This, in fact, contradicted the rules of decency, but it was also a sign of sincerity and honesty. So Henrietta allowed herself to forget about her own rules and restrictions for one evening, feeling a little freer next to Victor.

Tired of dancing, they went out into the garden, where many roses had been grown especially for the Yule Ball. Anri leaned towards the bushes, inhaling the delicate aroma, and carefully ran her fingers over the delicate petals.

“Do you like roses?” Victor asked quietly behind her, throwing his cloak over her shoulders.

“I love roses,” a sincere, gentle smile appeared on Henrietta’s face. “At home, I take care of the garden myself, my aunt says that roses bloom more readily in my hands than in hers,” Anri laughed quietly, covering her lips with her hand.

“You don’t need to cover your face,” the guy easily moved his hand away from her face. “You have a beautiful smile.”

“You have a pleasant voice,” Anri answered, twitching the corner of her lips. “Maybe you should talk more?”

Victor laughed. Anri looked at him with a warm smile, noticing that from laughter and a sincere smile his face became less menacing, became even more beautiful than usual.

“Тя не само отиде при дракона с голи ръце, но и ми отговори така, че нямаше какво да кажа,” Victor muttered in Bulgarian, having finished laughing.

“After talking to you, I have a desire to learn Bulgarian,” Henrietta raised an eyebrow, adjusting her cloak on her shoulders.

“Гледайки те искам да те целуна,” Victor chuckled, leaning slightly towards her.

“You know that I didn’t understand a word?” Anri twitched the corner of her lips in irritation.

"When you start to understand Bulgarian," he leaned even closer, almost whispering in her ear, "I'll switch to another language so that you don't understand my words."

"I'm already wondering what you said," Henrietta narrowed her green eyes, which Victor considered cat-like.

"Do you want to know?" he touched her nose with the tip of his, looking straight at her cheerfully.

"I think I already guess," Henrietta muttered, adjusting his disheveled hair with her hand.

And the next morning, all the inhabitants of England were delighted with a photograph of Viktor Krum kissing Harry Potter in a dress on the front page of the Daily Prophet. The newspaper was full of articles discussing the morals at Hogwarts, the moral character of the Boy Who Lived, his inclination towards boys, the topic of participation in the Tournament was raised once again, they even “reminded” her of the dark spots on her neck “which, of course, are traces left by a careless ‘friend’ of the national hero” - if only this “friend” is a violin. Viktor himself got a little less in the articles, but so much dirt was poured on him that Anri even felt ashamed that the guy suffered only because he invited her to the ball.

Well, okay, not only invited to the ball. The photo on the front page is not fake, after all.

But it didn't make her want to curse Rita Skitter any less. And now not only for herself.

Anri was already afraid of how she would explain herself to Victor and try to resolve this situation. It would be one thing if the newspapers wrote all sorts of nonsense about her - she could still survive that, even though the blow to her reputation would be severe. But what they are writing in the newspaper now is tantamount to an international scandal. Into which she herself, without knowing it, dragged the guy she liked.

Yes, Miss Skitter definitely deserves some kind of curse on her head. And a heavier one.

Chapter Text

The situation was… complicated. On the one hand, Henrietta felt guilty about the articles that discredited Victor's name and understood that it would be better for her to stay away from him so that all this noise would pass. On the other hand, it was so pleasant to be around him, she wanted to talk to him. She really liked him. And now she didn't know what to do.

Thoughtfully moving the bow along the strings, going from one composition to another and, eventually, playing something new, Anri watched the dancing couple in a living picture. The lady and her gentleman did not care what exactly the young violinist was playing - they just danced, managing to hit the melody. They spun, jumped, once the man even allowed himself to lift his partner, spinning with her.

"You are full of talent," a familiar voice sounded behind her.

The hand jerked, the bow abruptly ran along the strings, producing an unpleasant piercing sound, from which Anri winced slightly. She did not turn to face Victor, although it was extremely impolite.

“Will you play something for me?” the guy came closer, stopping right behind Henrietta.

Without saying a word, Anri adjusted the violin more comfortably and, twirling her wrist, touched the bow to the strings. A beautiful melody with Spanish motifs, from which the girl herself wanted to spin in a dance. The couple in the painting were dancing, the lady even allowed herself to coquettishly shake her shoulders and throw a playful glance at her gentleman.

“Is it better?” asked Victor, when silence hung in the corridor lost on the upper floors of the castle.

“I think if you communicate with me, there will be more articles,” Anri said in a cold voice, even though she didn’t want to answer him so insensitively.

"These stupid rumors don't bother me," his voice clearly smirked. "The fact that you're seen as a boy is only the problem of these short-sighted journalists with a penchant for lying."

"I don't think that in your homeland these articles will cause the same calm reaction as in you," the girl objected, still not turning around.

"Oh," Victor walked around her himself, looking straight into her green eyes, "this journalist will have big problems if the Minister comes across her article," the corner of his lips twitched in something between a smirk and a smile.

"I'm afraid that you'll have problems. I..." Henrietta pursed her lips and looked away. "I'm sorry that you got into this situation because of me."

"And I don't," he tugged her pigtail, causing Anri to look at him with boundless amazement. "Now I can fully удари наглия, който реши да те ухажва."

"I think I'll start learning Bulgarian today," Anri raised an eyebrow in displeasure.

"I know Serbian, Croatian, and Polish," Victor repeated the movement. "Не можеш ме победити. Uvijek postignem svoj cilj. Jesteś za dobra, żebym oddał cię innemu."

Anri glared at him, turning sharply on her heels and walking away, her low heels clicking on the stone slabs. She was irritated by situations when she didn't understand what Victor was saying to her.

A cheerful laugh was heard behind her. She was grabbed around the waist and spun around. Henrietta managed to suppress a cry, but she lightly slapped the guy on the shoulder, showing her displeasure when he let go.

“These articles are not our problem, Henrietta,” he looked at her with a soft smile. “And I can teach you other languages. But,” he twitched the corner of his lips again, “you will help me with English.”

“Shouldn’t you be solving the mystery of the golden egg now?” she snapped, turning around and, nevertheless, leaving for her room.

“По-интересно е да те разбера, отколкото да отвориш златно яйце,” Victor shouted after her.

Henrietta wondered if there were magical translators to understand what he was saying. Because soon her curiosity will start to choke her.

A week later, during which she had hardly seen Viktor, Krum approached the Ravenclaw table during lunch, placing a newspaper in an unfamiliar language and a notebook sheet covered in small, firm handwriting with straight, ruler-like lines in front of Henrietta. The first thing that caught her eye was a familiar photograph in the newspaper - the same one that had been in the Daily Prophet the day after the Yule Ball. She immediately lost the desire to read it. The only thing that came to mind was that Viktor's reputation had now suffered in his homeland too...

"Read it," Viktor insistently pushed the notebook sheet towards her, noticing the change in her mood.

Padma squinted at him, shaking the toe of her shoe. Sabrina studied the newspaper with her eyes, trying to understand what was written there, or to read the text on the notebook sheet upside down. Liza phlegmatically twirled a goblet of pumpkin juice in her hand, propping her head up with her hand.

Slightly pursing her lips, Anri picked up the sheet of paper and began to read, comparing what was written on the notebook sheet with the text in the newspaper by the names and titles mentioned. Something… strange was coming out. Firstly, she was called Henrietta Potter in this newspaper. Secondly, the article ridiculed the English journalists of the Daily Prophet, who thought she was a boy. Thirdly, the newspaper had an interview with Prince Oblonsky, the Minister of Magic of Bulgaria, actually, about her. And, the strangest thing, but putting everything else in its place…

We can only congratulate His Lordship's nephew on finding his beloved and wish him luck in both the Triwizard Tournament and in love affairs.

These words were written crookedly and Henrietta suspected that Victor did not want to translate this phrase. That is why she tried to correlate this phrase with the one in the newspaper in Bulgarian almost word by word.

"Now do you understand why this is not our problem?" - a warm breath burned her ear, goosebumps ran down her spine from his voice.

"Perhaps I no longer have the right to address you so frivolously, since now I know your situation?" Henri turned around, raising her eyebrows.

"Какво очаквах? Ако не си поставиш граници, това не си ти," Victor muttered. "If I wanted to be addressed by my status, I would have introduced myself by another name, I have the right."

"So?.." Henrietta drawled, looking at him questioningly.

"So that's enough standing on your feet," Liza snapped, yanking Krum down, forcing him to sit down between herself and Anri. "First lunch, then sorting things out, the break isn't endless, we still have lessons."

"Can you recommend anything from Bulgarian cuisine?" Sabrina looked around in search of something tasty and unfamiliar.

Padma pulled the newspaper and the translation of the article towards herself, casting sidelong glances at Victor.

After lunch, things really did get better. Anri decided to leave Miss Skitter to deal with all this herself and not pay any extra attention to her. She was convinced that it wouldn't harm Victor, and she could somehow survive the damage to her reputation. After all, she really did like guys, especially Viktor Krum, dresses and girly things. Because she was a girl.

Faced with the Bulgarians' complaints, Rita Skitter temporarily switched to another topic for her articles - Mr. Hagrid, who taught Care of Magical Creatures, although, in Henrietta's opinion, it would have been better if she had written about the retired Auror, who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, who demonstrated Unforgivable Curses in class and used one of them - the subordination spell - on students, supposedly training them to resist him. At such moments, Anri was saved only by self-control and the upbringing of her aunt, who taught her to always and in everything control herself and control every inch of her body.

Ladies do not jump on desks. Ladies do not climb on window sills. Ladies do not crow like a rooster. Ladies do not dance the cancan, lifting their skirts indecently. Ladies do not demonstratively knock over inkwells on other people. Ladies do not openly curse their teachers.

Yes, the last one was not to fight the teacher's spell.

Due to Miss Skitter's actions, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher was temporarily replaced at Hogwarts. Anri, however, was even pleased. And how could it be otherwise, if the new teacher gave them the opportunity not only to see a real adult unicorn, but also to get closer to him.

The girls swarmed around the beautiful horse, getting on his nerves. Anri, when the others retreated a little, smoothly approached him and, curtsying, stretched out her hand forward. The unicorn offered his snow-white neck, allowing himself to be stroked. He was calm and emanated a sense of strength. There was no doubt that the long twisted horn could become a formidable weapon if someone disturbed the proud unicorn.

Time passed between talking to Victor, being delighted by her encounters with the unicorn, playing the violin and reading novels until the second test, which Henrietta was supposed to be preparing for. But instead she read Jane Austen, played the violin and met with Victor. She still couldn't open the golden egg, and didn't want to.

She met the morning of the second test of the Triwizard Tournament by opening her eyes in the middle of a lake. In February. Even though she can't swim.

Immediately grabbing Victor, who was floating nearby and for some reason had a shark's head, Henrietta tried not to interfere with the guy's swimming and figured out what was happening. Victor lifted her up, sitting her on the pier, and pulled himself up, sitting next to her. The crowd around was screaming, the judges of the Tournament were rushing towards them. Anri had only one thought in her head - if only she could become invisible now, so that no one would see her in such a terribly indecent form. Disheveled, sleepy, wet to the bone and starting to freeze.

Victor immediately threw a warm blanket over her, hiding her with her head and pressing her to himself. He also threw the second blanket, which was intended for him, over Anri, warming her.

“You’ll freeze,” Anri muttered into his neck, cold from the icy water and the dank wind.

“It wasn’t me who spent several hours in the lake in February,” Victor objected, chattering his teeth.

“Психо! Поне пелерина си сложи, морж,” a crumpled blood-red cloak flew into Krum, which he immediately pulled on.

Anri doesn’t know what Levski shouted to Victor, but it seems she will agree with it.

While the others were dealing with the other two Champions and their "missing" ones, Henrietta braided her wet hair and tried to tidy herself up. After which, adjusting the blankets on her shoulders so that they lay like a shawl, she rose with dignity and headed towards the castle. Victor had to stay behind, listening to the judges.

Entering the bedroom, Anri immediately threw off her blanket and robe, remaining only in a dress, quickly changed into pajamas and jumped under the blanket, hugging the pillow. It was warm under the blanket, and the pillow was so soft that the desire to sleep was simply irresistible.

Henrietta closed her eyes and fell into a dream in which she saw strange creatures that looked like fairy-tale mermaids, an underwater city made of shells, and Victor with a shark's head. Even when her loudly chatting neighbors entered the room, she did not wake up.

Miss Potter spent the next two days in her bed with a cold, refusing to take a special potion. More precisely, refusing to show herself in such a state outside the bedroom. Therefore, Padma had to give her herbal teas, and Liza worked as a post owl, passing messages between Anri and Victor. However, this gave her an extra opportunity to see Levski, so she did not complain. Sabrina decided to entertain her friend, telling her all the gossip and news.

Winter was coming to an end, spring was beginning. Victor managed to find flowers that had just blossomed, bringing them to Henrietta. Anri carefully placed them between the pages of her novels. As a participant in the Tournament, Anri was exempt from exams at the end of the year, so she helped Victor prepare for the third test. This, of course, was not very ethical, since she should have been rooting for Diggory and helping him, but honestly, she was just reading in the library next to Victor and showing him something interesting in her book if she found it.

They got to know each other better. Victor talked about Bulgaria and Durmstrang, about his family and team, about Quidditch and flying. Anri talked about Hogwarts and the Dursleys, about her hobbies. Sometimes Victor asked her to play the violin for him. And once he decided to surprise her by taking her for a ride on a broomstick.

Henrietta had never been so scared in her life. Forgetting about safety precautions at a height of two and a half meters, Anri turned around and hugged Victor tightly, holding on to him. They flew in the sky, periodically Victor demonstrated aerobatics to her, making her scream, holding on to him tighter. However, he did not get around to such dangerous tricks as the one he did at the Quidditch World Cup.

Time passed, and a feeling of premature melancholy was growing in Anri’s soul - she was already imagining how much she would miss Victor when he returned to Bulgaria. She did not suffer from this, but the bitterness was felt. Returning home was inevitable for him, and it was unlikely that he would decide to stay with her in England forever. But she did not want to part with him, perhaps forever.

Victor was too different from everyone she had ever met. He was sincere, and at the same time he pretended without even knowing it - Anri realized this when she asked him about the reason for his slouching. The guy sometimes did not even notice how much his posture and gait changed. His shoulders and spine were simply very tired, it was difficult and even painful for him to keep his back straight, and sometimes it was difficult to walk. He could feel uncomfortable on the ground. That was why he loved flying so much - in the air, his back was straight, but did not hurt, and there was no strain on his legs. He could completely control himself and his movements. Quidditch for him was a battle in which he always used all his opportunities. He was strong and proud, but did not demonstrate it to everyone he met. He was popular, but he did not enjoy this popularity, although he did not suffer from it. There was nobility in him, but Anri would never be able to compare him to a prince or a knight. Perhaps she had seen such dignity and even grandeur without a touch of "radiance" and "heroism" only in Prince Oblonsky. And this was not surprising, because they were relatives. It was easy to imagine how Viktor was addressed as a prince.

And this made Anri feel a little awkward. If at first she was worried about the articles and rumors, then later, when she realized Victor's real position in society and thought about it, she began to feel the difference between them. She was an orphan from an ordinary, and not even magical, family, English, a Protestant, albeit a conditional one. He was the nephew of the Minister of Magic, the heir of the prince, the best Seeker in the world, a gifted wizard, Bulgarian, Orthodox, albeit as conditional as she was a Protestant.

Henrietta was fine with Victor, she liked him. But she was old-fashioned and distrustful. She simply didn't need blind and carefree love. She needed someone she could rely on, someone who would believe in her, support her, be her equal.

Anri didn't feel like Victor's equal.

Seeing her friend's emotional swings, Padma was ready to set snakes on someone or curse them, Lisa rolled her eyes and offered to listen, and Sabrina offered to eat cakes or get a beautiful hairdo.

The third test of the Tournament was approaching, after which everything would be decided.

This year can't be called calm. But Anri can hope that it will ultimately be successful, right?

Chapter Text

Henrietta, although she did not show it, was nervous before the third, final, test of the Tournament. And when she heard that on the morning of the day of the test - right now! - there would be a meeting with relatives...

It is not shameful for a lady to say she is sick and go to her room, right?..

Victor's gaze, noticing the turn of her head towards the doors from the hall and a doubtful look there, as if with a drop of mockery and a silent question "Are you running away?" made her pull herself together. If the tactic of a quiet retreat did not work, raise your head higher and with a straight back and a sense of self-worth go towards your opponents. Even if they are like that only in your thoughts.

With such, even a little warlike, attitude, Henrietta entered the room where relatives were waiting for the participants of the Tournament, feeling Victor's satisfied - even a little smug - look on her back. The girl tried not to think about the reasons for his looks. And in general she was going to step aside, casually disappearing into the shadows. Her relatives couldn't be there, and she didn't want to find out Victor's family's opinion on their situation.

But, looking around the room, Anri immediately forgot about everything, frozen like a stone statue. Her green eyes widened, and her lips parted in an unsuccessful attempt to take a breath.

Petunia grinned and stretched out her arms to her niece, inviting her into her arms.

Ladies don't run. Ladies don't show their feelings in public. Ladies don't smile widely and don't shed tears in front of strangers.

Throwing all the rules aside, Anri rushed to hug her beloved aunt, unable to hold back a few tears and a wide, happy smile. She hadn't seen her family for almost a year and missed them so much that she simply couldn't bear it.

"I'm glad to see you too, dear," Petunia touched her lips to the dark crown of her head for a moment, lightly stroking her back. "But don't rush at me like that, we're not alone."

The rest of the people in the room, however, didn't care about them at all, even Victor was engrossed in a conversation with his parents in Bulgarian. But Henrietta still took a quiet breath and moved away from her aunt, adjusting her hair and clothes with almost imperceptible movements. Smiling softly, the girl curtsied, looking tenderly at her aunt.

"I'm glad to see you here, Aunt Petunia. I hope you got to Hogwarts safely?"

Petunia's smile became crooked. Not only were wizards, especially in such numbers, frightening, but traveling by magic was also... unpleasant. Being split into atoms in one place and "splitting" in another brought a lot of unpleasant sensations.

"Of course, dear. The castle looks simply magical. You should be glad that you can study in such a beautiful place."

Henrietta caught the sadness and a note of envy in her aunt's voice. Anri remembered Petunia's stories about her childhood and remembered how much she wanted to be a witch, to study at Hogwarts. And now, probably, this whole situation was pressing on a sore spot.

"If you are not too tired from the journey, I could give you a tour of the castle and the surrounding area," Anri smiled a little wider. "This year, students from two foreign schools are visiting the castle, I think you would be curious to see their means of transportation."

"I could give you a tour of the ship, but the director would bury me alive after that," a voice was heard behind Anri, causing the corner of the girl's lips to twitch nervously.

The hysterical question about why he could not continue to communicate with his family and not approach them, sounding in his thoughts, was carefully suppressed.

A lady is not allowed to throw a tantrum outside of her personal rooms.

Taking a step to the side and turning slightly to see both her aunt and Krum, Anri smiled politely and slightly tilted her head towards the guy, looking at Petunia.

"Auntie, let me introduce you to Viktor Krum, the Triwizard Tournament Champion from Durmstrang. Mr. Krum, my aunt Mrs. Petunia Dursley."

Victor twitched the corner of his lips at the address, putting one hand behind his back and the other to his chest, bowing slightly.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Doorsley. Let me introduce you and your lovely," he said the word strangely, glancing briefly at Henrietta, "niece, my parents," he stepped aside a little, letting his parents come closer. "Vasilika Oblonsky and Radko Krum," he nodded to his parents. "Henrietta Potter and her aunt Petunia Dursaly," the guy clearly tried to pronounce the last name correctly at least the second time, but he failed.

Petunia raised her eyebrows in surprise as she looked at Krum's mother. She couldn't understand why this woman had a different surname from her husband. Unless they were divorced, but Petunia couldn't understand that even more. Why would they get married if they were going to get divorced?

"It's nice to meet you, young lady, who's charming..." Victor's mother began in fairly good English, but her husband interrupted her.

"Не се притеснявай, скъпа. Дори слабите ми познания по английски са достатъчни, за да разбера, че ще кажеш нещо неудобно."

The woman gave him a displeased look and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Най-накрая срещнах любимата на сина ми, а ти ме прекъсваш? Какво ще си помисли тя за нас след това?" she said sullenly, throwing lightning bolts of light at her husband.

"Ако продължиш да говориш на български, ще започнеш да я дразниш. Мрази, когато не разбира какво говорят хората, за които говори," Viktor snapped. "Excuse me, a small family matter. Can we join the tour?"

"Yes, yes," his mother clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Who can show Hogwarts castle and tell us about it better than its student? Please, Miss Potter, we're so interested!.."

"Особено ви интересува къде и кога тя и Виктор са се целували и кога той ще я поиска да се омъжи за него. Прибързана жена!" Mr. Krum rolled his eyes.

Victor coughed into his fist suggestively, looking at his mother. But she had already taken Henrietta by the elbow on one side and Petunia Dursley on the other and was leading them forward, chatting to them about everything under the sun.

"Oh, Miss Potter, Stepho has told me about you. But he probably needs to learn some public speaking. His stories are nothing compared to the real you! Mrs. Dursley, I am amazed at how you were able to raise such a beautiful and refined niece! Would you mind sharing your raising secrets? And I also heard that you like roses. We have a huge number of bush roses in our garden, but I don’t even know what to do with them to make them bloom profusely. Can you tell me?.."

"Дайте дума на една жена и тя няма да спре дори след час. И ще предам нейния съвет на Стефан да работи върху своите истории,” Radko muttered, following his wife, catching the satisfied smile on his son’s face, which he tried to hide. "Той се усмихва... Сега ще изплашат булката ти - спаси я от майка й, преди момичето да избяга," he continued to grumble, although his lips involuntarily trembled in an effort to smile at his son's happiness.

Henrietta showed her aunt and Victor's parents the castle and its surroundings, told them the history of Hogwarts and interesting facts. Near Mr. Hagrid's hut, the adults were able to look at the huge horses of Beauxbatons, Victor told them about the Durmstrang ship, and everyone looked at the Beauxbatons carriage. Anri told them about the inhabitants of the forbidden forest, among whom were unicorns, hippogriffs and centaurs. Petunia looked around with delight in her eyes, noticing the magic with childish joy, although she avoided it, trying to stay close to her niece. Vasilika asked questions, shared interesting facts and stories she knew, laughed cheerfully and kept up the conversation, imperceptibly leading Petunia to more frank conversations. Radko watched his wife's actions from the side, a little tiredly, and observed his son, who walked next to Miss Potter and helped her every now and then - sometimes he supported her, sometimes he gave her his hand, sometimes he offered her to lean on him to make it easier to walk. He even offered his cloak when, in his opinion, it began to get cold. And Radko could not understand whether his son always behaved like this with this girl or was showing off in front of his parents and Potter's own relative.

But evening came and it was time to go to the Quidditch stadium, which was transformed into a huge labyrinth of living bushes several meters high, among which "surprises" were left. Having escorted the relatives to the spectator seats and asked them not to worry - and Henrietta, after a little hesitation, asked Victor's mother to look after her aunt - the participants of the Tournament went down.

The final of the Triwizard Tournament began.

As soon as she entered the labyrinth, Anri already realized that everything was bad. It was dark, narrow, the passage behind her back was overgrown and now these same bushes were trying to swallow her up, and in front of her there was a threatening growl, hissing, smacking... Sighing nervously and adjusting her hair, Anri took out her wand and went forward, full of demonstrative confidence and pride. Inside, her heart was beating like a frightened bird in the cage of her ribs, rising to her throat. There was a desire to hide somewhere or run, so that it would not be so scary, but...

Ladies do not run. Ladies do not show their weakness. Ladies do not retreat in the face of difficulties, going through them with dignity and with their heads held high.

Yes, that's right. So with a proud posture, Henrietta Potter walked forward quietly and confidently, holding her wand at the ready to protect herself from the surprises of the labyrinth. It was dark and too quiet to talk about even temporary safety. Even growls, hisses and chomping were no longer heard, only the rustling of the grass from the girl's steps. And this silence with the rustling pressed on the nerves.

Anri froze in place, pursing her lips in displeasure. It's dark, she needs light. The Lumos spell is too inconvenient in this situation, it will be impossible to conjure anything else. She needs something that would not depend on the magic wand and move with Henrietta. Something alive and glowing, so that it would not be so scary...

Like an elegant panther patronus.

Having called the cat, who had licked her lips contentedly, Anri moved on in her company. The panther listened and sniffed, turning in what she thought was the right direction. She growled discontentedly at some turns and lashed her tail, urging her mistress to go faster before trouble came.

Ahead, a golden fog appeared. It was, of course, beautiful, but Anri did not inspire a drop of confidence. Nearby, with her back to the fog, the panther growled menacingly, directly informing them of the danger approaching them.

Grimacing slightly, Anri took a step into the golden fog. The sky immediately changed places with the earth, the girl hung upside down, as if glued to the grass that was instead of the sky. Her long braid hung down with its tip into the starry space, as did the hems of her robe, hanging in the same direction.

Ladies do not pay attention to minor inconveniences.

After taking a moment to admire the starry sky below, Henrietta calmly took a step forward, not afraid to fall. Or trying to convince herself that she wasn't afraid.

With her first step, the sky and the earth returned to their rightful places. Tugging her robes and running her fingers through her braid, Anri walked forward. Right to where the ominous knocking and clicking could be heard.

Coming around the bend, she found herself in a clearing in the middle of which Victor was fighting off the terrible creatures Mr. Hagrid had bred this year - Blast-Ended Skrewts, as he called them. Enormous scorpions whose turtle-like shells were impossible to pierce with spells, and the stinger at the end of their tails shot fire.

And one of them, unnoticed by Krum, was right now aiming at the boy who was distracted by another Blast-Ended Skrewt.

At the same time as the wild roar of the panther-patronus, Henrietta sent a repulsive spell at the skrewt. The fireball hit the wall of bushes, making a hole in it. The panther rushed at the monster that had driven away, sinking its fangs into its unprotected belly, holding the creature back while Anri sent a cutting spell near the panther's head, incapacitating the enemy. Behind her, the second skrewt, struck down by Victor, let out its last dying squeak.

She did not feel sorry for the monsters.

"You saved my life," Victor chuckled in a hoarse voice.

Taking her hand, he leaned down slightly, gently wrapping his lips around her fingertips. Anri allowed herself a weak smile and carefully pulled her hand back.

"You will always have time to thank me. Now you need to take the Cup and become the one and only Champion of the Tournament."

"Will you come with me?" his black eyes were boring into her persistently, making it sound not like a question, or even a request, but an order.

"The hero defeated the monster and returns with a trophy and a lady?" Henrietta raised a slightly mocking eyebrow, but offered her hand to Victor. "Then lead the way, sir, I will follow you."

She walked behind him, keeping pace and covering his back. The panther walked ahead, lighting the way. There was a rustling sound and someone's footsteps. Once Henrietta thought she heard footsteps along with the sound of something wooden - as if the person had a wooden prosthesis instead of one leg, like the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. But he couldn't be here, could he?

Then again, Auntie couldn't be at Hogwarts this morning either.

Carefully and attentively, fighting off the attacks of the surprises of the Labyrinth and avoiding traps, they reached the Cup without meeting any other Champions, which was alarming.

"Take the Cup, it's yours," Henrietta said with a soft smile, continuing to look around carefully, which allowed her to notice a huge spider hurrying towards them in time. "Faster!"

"You're coming with me," Victor pulled her to him by the waist with one hand, and grabbed the Cup's handle with the other.

Their legs left the ground, the Cup carried them somewhere. Anri hugged Victor tightly and closed one eye from the gusts of wind and the riot of colors, while the other, which was less susceptible to air attacks, watched what was happening so as not to miss the danger.

They landed abruptly, but Victor managed to stay on his feet and hold her. They were standing in the middle of a cemetery. A cemetery familiar to Henrietta from her terrible dreams. And this made her wary. Especially considering the fact that the panther patronus remained in the Labyrinth.

A low figure with a bundle in its hands was slowly approaching them, skirting the graves. Victor's hand on Anri's waist tensed, both wizards gripped their wands tighter, preparing to attack.

As soon as the figure stopped,Anri's head, exactly where the scar had been, was pierced by unbearable pain.

"Kill the extra one," she heard someone's cold, piercing voice as if through a fog.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The last of the three unforgivable curses. Instant death.

Victor pushed her aside, knocking her to the ground and covering her with his body. Opening her eyes and catching a glimpse of the dark figure, Henrietta raised her wand and said in a cold, unnatural voice with a sincere desire to remove this creature from her path:

"Avada Kedavra."

The figure in the dark cloak fell on its back. The bundle began to move helplessly and began to call out for some Tail in the same voice that had given the order. Henrietta repeated the killing curse, aiming at the bundle.

A deathly silence fell on the cemetery.

Anri lay on the cold, damp ground, with Victor hovering over her, breathing heavily, looking straight into her bewitching green eyes. They no longer held the green of summer grass, but the cold of ancient jade, as strong as steel. Her braid was disheveled, and her hair fell in black curls across the ground, collecting dirt. There was an earthy streak on her cheek, and her expression was like a cold mask of that same jade - beautiful and impassive.

Victor touched Anri's lips with his own, certain that danger had passed them by. Death had literally rushed past them, inches away. This girl, this brave, simply incredible girl, had dared to break the law to eliminate enemies. Victor saw that the spell was flying straight at him, it would not have touched Henrietta. He was the "extra", Anri was not in danger of the death curse, and the boy was sure of it, she knew it. And that meant that Henrietta had stepped over herself for him.

Henrietta began to shake a little. She clutched Victor's clothes with her fingers, suppressing tears. Breaking the kiss, Victor pressed her to himself, lightly stroking her hair, completely ruining her hairstyle.

"Everything is fine, I'm here, we're alive. You can cry."

Ladies don't cry.

But Anri was sobbing chokedly, burying her nose in Victor's neck, pouring out her fear, tension, horror from the fact that with her own hands she had sent one of the Unforgivables into a living being. Victor stroked her back and head, thoughtfully looking at the starry sky and thinking what to do with those two now. In his opinion, it was impossible to give them to the English wizards - it could harm Henrietta, and leaving them here was too reckless. The finger of his left hand was burning with a simple wooden ring, enchanted to move to Prince Oblonsky's office. When Victor accepted it, he very much hoped that he would never in his life take advantage of it and his position as the nephew of the Minister of Magic, but he saw no other way out now. So when Anri calmed down, he placed the creature in a bundle on the chest of the man in the dark robe, put his ring on the clawed, seemingly inhuman, hand and said the code word in Bulgarian. For a moment, a flash lit up the cemetery, after which the unknown people disappeared, moving straight to the office of the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"It's time to go back," Victor turned to Henrietta.

The girl was using magic to tidy herself up - she cleaned her robe from dirt, removed dirt from her hair and skin, gave her hair its former shine and visible cleanliness, and braided her hair into a neat braid.

"Then let's go back to the Cup," she nodded, walking towards the Cup that had been thrown away during the attack.

Hugging Anri again, Victor picked up the Cup. They were spinning again. But this time they appeared in front of the stands near the entrance to the labyrinth. Camera flashes flashed, spectators screamed, and magical fireworks thundered.

Stepping away from Victor, Henrietta curtsied, bowing her head and smiling sincerely at him.

"Congratulations on your victory, Triwizard Tournament Champion Viktor Krum."

These words seemed to remove the restraining spell - people from the stands poured forward in the desire to congratulate the Champion and take a photo with him, to find out all the details and Harry Potter's participation in all this.

Victor, smiling, pulled Anri back. Vasilika exclaimed enthusiastically, Radko snorted, Petunia pursed her lips disapprovingly, hiding a touched smile.

The front pages of tomorrow's newspapers will be decorated with a photo of Durmstrang Triwizard Tournament Champion Viktor Krum kissing Hogwarts participant Henrietta Potter with the Cup in her hands against the backdrop of the dark Labyrinth.

Chapter Text

Returning home with her aunt, Henrietta dropped out of life for two days, sleeping in her room, reading and playing the violin. Dudley's grumbling could be heard from behind the door, something was periodically knocking on the wall from his room, but the girl did not pay attention to it.

Having caught a state of inner balance and harmony, Miss Potter stopped her voluntary seclusion, returning to household chores and communication with her family, whom she really missed. Even the naughty Dudley, who pulled her hair when his mother was not looking, and trampled on roses.

Minuet, flapping her wings discontentedly, constantly flew and delivered letters. Most of all, the owl did not like the established correspondence between Henrietta and Victor - she had to fly all the way to Bulgaria! Minuet was much more satisfied with flights to her mistress's friends - at least they lived in England. Well, until Padma went to India to visit her grandfather, and Lisa and her family went on holiday to Spain.

Anri tended the roses, cooked with Aunt Petunia, read and embroidered, played the violin, walked in the evenings and drank tea with the neighbors, discussing the latest news and gossip. And packed her things, preparing to leave.

Vasilika Oblonsky persuaded Petunia to go with the whole family to Bulgaria for a vacation at someone else's expense. They were promised delicious food, interesting excursions, beautiful places, clean beaches and a warm sea. The beach, the sea and the food persuaded Dudley, and the word "free" persuaded Uncle Vernon. Petunia closely watched the household packing, checking the contents of the suitcases and pulling comics and magazines out of Dudley's backpack with truly sheepish stubbornness. However, her son put them back with no less stubbornness.

On the afternoon of July 30th, the Dursleys locked up the house and garage and took public transport to London, where Henrietta, pursing her lips, led everyone to the Leaky Cauldron. With difficulty fitting into the fireplace with four people and suitcases, the Dursleys looked expectantly at Anri. Having put a couple of coins next to a pot of Floo powder and asked her relatives to grab hold of it without letting go of the suitcases, the girl took a handful of powder and threw it at her feet, clearly pronouncing the address.

"Atrium."

Fireplaces and chimneys flashed, ash fell from the walls. Having stopped, they took turns leaving the huge fireplace in a spacious hall, where wizards were scurrying. Vasilika stood next to a huge golden statue, looking askance at it.

Having dusted themselves off and grabbed their suitcases, the family headed towards her. They weren't enjoying the trip yet - flying through chimneys was no fun.

"Good afternoon!" Vasilika smiled brightly, welcomingly spreading her arms. "Let me help you a little."

One wave of her wand and there was no trace of ash left on them. The second - and the suitcases shrank, flying through the air into Vasilika's pocket.

"Convenient," Vernon snorted contentedly into his moustache, looking at his suit, which looked brand new again.

Telling them about the Ministry of Magic and wizards on the way, Vasilika led them into the elevator and led them to an office on the fifth floor, where a nervous wizard with a skipping rope in his hands was waiting for them.

Grabbing the skipping rope, they felt the ground slipping away from under their feet and everything spinning before their eyes. Henrietta, who had already traveled using portals, felt better than her relatives. Vasilika, however, seemed not to even notice the discomfort.

They landed in an inconspicuous alley, where Vasilika quickly pulled off her robe, shoved it into her bag, and, fixing her hair, walked out of the alley. Turning to the Dursleys and Miss Potter, she spread her arms and smiled broadly.

"Welcome to Bulgaria, dear guests!"

Dudley looked around, trying to run to the street stalls with hot food, Vernon snorted approvingly into his moustache, slowly turning his head, Petunia asked Vasilika questions without any embarrassment, praising the architecture and the abundance of greenery. Anri walked sedately next to her aunt, listening to the stories of Mrs. Krum - if you can call her that - and looking around the city. Sofia - the capital of Bulgaria, where they were transferred by the portal - turned out to be pleasant to look at. Multi-colored buildings and many trees between them. The sun was shining, soft music was playing in the streets, laughter was heard from groups of passers-by.

Near the monument to the Tsar-Liberator, about whom Vasilika began to tell, Henrietta noticed a familiar figure. A gloomy, hunched Victor with a small bouquet of daisies in ordinary jeans and a T-shirt. The large number of people around him clearly bothered him, but he waited patiently.

Having nodded slightly to her aunt, Anri went ahead, approaching Victor. As soon as he noticed her, a smile appeared on his face. The daisies smelled simply wonderful.

They spent three days in Sofia, at the same time celebrating Anri's birthday. They went to museums and historical places, looked at magical streets, tried national cuisine. And on the second of August, Vasilika and Victor took them to the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic.

Where Henrietta blushed, as literally every wizard recognized her. And not as the Boy-Who-Lived, but as the girl their Minister's nephew had kissed in public. If the first time there was no particular excitement, according to Vasilika, since it was an unknown photo, possibly fake, then the second time there was a sea of ​​witnesses from different countries. And everyone saw how they kissed.

Stretching her lips into a polite smile and closing her eyes, Anri walked next to Victor, trying to ignore the whispers and calls. Victor didn't particularly enjoy all this attention either, but he didn't look as displeased as he had at the monument.

They were brought straight to the Minister's office, to which Henrietta raised her eyebrows in surprise for a moment and curtsied, bowing her head to Prince Oblonsky.

"Victor, Vasilika!" the man smiled affably, looking up from his papers. "Oh, Miss Potter, it is nice to see you. I understand that your relatives Mr. and Mrs. Dursley are with you?"

"You are very perceptive, sir," Anri nodded, folding her hands together.

"Stefan Oblonsky, my dears," he left the table, coming closer. "Minister of Magic of Bulgaria. I am glad to welcome you to our country. I hope you enjoy your visit."

"We hope so, Mr. Oblonskey," Petunia smiled tightly, slightly distorting the surname.

"Allow me to introduce you to my Aunt Petunia Dursley and Uncle Vernon Dursley, as well as my cousin Dudley," Anri introduced the relatives, feeling awkward under the prince's attentive gaze.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Vernon extended his hand, stepping forward.

"Likewise, Mr. Dursley," the Minister of Magic shook the outstretched hand. "Vasilika, is it time for us to go already?" he turned to his sister, raising his eyebrows in bewilderment.

"Haven't you finished yet?" the woman repeated her brother's expression. "Мислех, че няколко документа няма да ви създадат проблеми. А ти се оказа бавен като охлюв."

" I'll give the secretary access to the office," Prince Oblonsky irritably twitched the corner of his lips, taking the papers from the table, "Victor, warn him about my departure and take the portal, please."

Silently nodding, the guy left, returning a couple of minutes later with a large metal circle in his hands.

They were to spend the rest of the summer on the territory of the Varna community, which, according to Vasilika, belonged to Prince Oblonsky. Of course, once every four years the community held elections for the kmet, the head of the community, but the residents of the community had become so accustomed to this over the long, long years under the rule of the Princes Oblonsky that they did not particularly support other candidates. And they were happy.

Especially considering that the wizards living on the territory of the community preferred to see a magician as the kmet. And the title of Prince Oblonsky was always borne by wizards.

The palace that appeared before the eyes of the astonished Henrietta was extraordinary. It was not graceful, like the palaces in the pictures in fairy tale books, it was not as huge and tall as Hogwarts, it was not a powerful fortress. It looked simple and at the same time, together with the exotic plants, statues and ponds spread around, it inspired respect and even awe.

“Welcome to Euxinograd,” Prince Oblonsky smiled. “My,” he chuckled, “palace. The summer residence of the royal family and the favorite place for receptions of the non-magical government."

"People don't know that the palace has a rightful owner," Vasilika explained as they walked through the beautiful garden to the entrance of the building. "They sometimes hold tours or receptions here, but only on the first floor and in some places around the palace. The second and third floors are blocked by magic, as are some parts of the garden and the stables - where the winged horses and hippogriffs are kept."

By the way Henrietta's eyes lit up, Vasilika understood where she should take the girl and what to interest her in. Anri remembered the leader of the hippogriff pack from the forest near Hogwarts and her delight in flying. And, what she would not admit, she would not mind repeating, perhaps even more than once.

The palace was cozy and beautiful, especially on the second floor. The guests were shown to their rooms and invited to the dining room for dinner. The dishes themselves appeared on the table, the glasses were filled with drinks. Petunia and Vernon were tense at first, but then relaxed.

Anri was enjoying the food when she felt curious touches on her head. Carefully running her hand through her hair, the girl felt like she had pushed someone.

On the floor next to her sat a small creature in a dress, looking at her with huge eyes and delight.

“Голямо коте,” the creature said, enchanted, stretching out its arms to Henrietta.

“Zlata, don’t scare the guests,” the prince said sternly.

Victor only chuckled at the creature’s words. Anri glanced sideways at him, meeting his black eyes.

“House spirits love cats,” he grinned, holding out his glass to the jug of water.

It turned out that the palace was inhabited by house spirits, similar to English house-elves. The older ones could speak English, while the younger ones, like Zlata, spoke only Bulgarian, although they understood English. They kept order in the house, cooked, hid magic and traces of life from visitors, accepted mail - they helped the owners in everything. True, they also liked to play pranks - so on the very first day the younger house spirits decided to arrange a game with Dudley, which threatened to drag on for the entire stay in Bulgaria, since the "game" was liked by all the participants, who had ... a difficult and mischievous, if not to say nasty character.

Anri really liked the garden and the lake with water lilies. In the part of the stable closed by magic, there were beautiful hippogriffs and winged horses, and the clean beach and warm sea beckoned.

Victor accompanied Henrietta everywhere, telling her about Euxinograd, Bulgaria, the history of the Oblonsky princes. He went into the sea with her and even tried to teach her to swim, but the most Anri could do was to grab Victor and hang on him while he was in the water up to his neck.

A small wave was sent in response to Dudley, who began splashing water at them at that moment, carrying him to the shore.

Not far from the palace was the port city of Varna, where they went on excursions and shopping. They simply walked the streets, not afraid of getting lost. They tried unfamiliar food, which was not always to their taste. For example, Henri did not appreciate the mixture of crushed peppers and tomatoes, which Victor called lyutenitsa. But she liked the baked minced meat with potatoes with an egg and milk filling - moussaka.

Vasilika entertained Petunia and Vernon with conversations, Dudley found his own entertainment or went crazy with the house spirits, and Anri enjoyed her time with Victor. Pleasant conversations, flights - Victor on a broom and Henrietta on a hippogriff, walks around the area. Several times they saw Radko Krum, busy with work and dropping in for literally a couple of hours to see his wife and son. And the opportunity to dump some of the problems on his brother-in-law directly, skipping the long journey through departments and secretaries, was a pleasant addition.

In Bulgaria they bought school supplies, except for textbooks - they would have to buy them at the last minute in London. Stefan also insisted on visiting the "specialists", glancing at Anri's thick bangs, under which the scar was hidden. It turned out that the headaches and nightmares were the consequences of the remnants of dark magic and someone's - whose, she wondered - soul, stuck in the scar. Smiling reassuringly at the Minister, the specialists pulled out the soul fragment and removed the remnants of dark magic, applying a healing ointment to the inflamed scar. The man, no longer feeling bad about Anri's scar, sighed with relief.

"Well, now you can live peacefully without any dark magicians, Etta."

Yes, the prince shortened "Henrietta" to "Etta", which spread further from him. And even though she liked "Anri" much more, "Etta" sounded good too.

Better than "Harry" for sure.

Especially from Victor. He pronounced the new abbreviation of her name in some incredible tone, which sent a chill down her spine and at the same time a warm lump curled up in her chest. Henrietta herself never abbreviated his name - she simply could not find an abbreviation that would suit her. The closest was "Vic", but... Even that made Anri shudder. So Victor remained Victor, which suited both of them.

"I can't stand it when my name is distorted," he confessed to her once, silently thanking her for calling him by his full name.

The summer was fun, she didn't want to leave Bulgaria, even though Anri had already missed her home and her friends a little. She liked talking with Vasilika and Prince Oblonsky, spending days with Victor when the directors and teachers weren't watching them, walking in the magnificent garden, enjoying the coolness and the singing of birds under a hundred-year-old cedar.

But time was inexorably passing, approaching September and the time of departure to Hogwarts. Relaxed next to Victor, Henrietta remembered all the instructions her aunt had given her in childhood, so as not to behave rudely, ugly or inappropriately. Of course, with her family, Vasilika and the prince, she followed all the norms and decency, but most of the time she still spent with Victor, whom she let beyond the boundaries of her "personal space", omitting formalities.

It seemed like only yesterday that Victor was showing her the vineyards of Euxinograd in the first days, and now he was already softly touching her fingers with his lips, seeing her off and inviting her to come back next summer. The invitation, of course, was repeated for her aunt and uncle with her cousin, but everyone understood that the most welcome guest here was still Henrietta.

“I will wait for your letter, Etta,” Victor whispered and continued in Bulgarian. “I will miss you.”

During her month in Bulgaria, Anri had begun to understand some words and phrases. She understood this one. And, awkwardly distorting the sounds, but trying to say it correctly, she answered in clumsy Bulgarian:

“I will miss you too.”

Victor let go of her hand. A flash, the ground slipped out from under their feet, and now they were in the familiar Atrium of the Ministry of Magic in England.

Returning home and starting to unpack, Henrietta found a daisy stuffed between the pages of Jane Austen's Persuasion, the very one that Victor had given her on the day they met in Sofia, and a magical moving photograph of her and Victor walking in the garden. In this photograph, she is wearing a light dress and smiling cheerfully, not noticing the hidden photographer. Victor, in a shirt and trousers, smiles slightly at the corners of his lips, looking straight at her. And then he picks her up in his arms, spinning her around, making her laugh.

Embarrassed that someone had caught her in such a vivid display of emotion, Anri put the photograph back between the pages with the daisy, carefully closing the book and placing it on the bedside table.

It had been a wonderful month in Bulgaria, but it was over. Now she had to get back to her normal life, preparing for Hogwarts and the exams that were coming at the end of this school year.

But even as she watched the forest rush past from the window of the train to Hogwarts, Henrietta Potter kept thinking about Euxinograd and Viktor, who was no longer there.

But in the chest, between the pages of the book, there was a photograph that the girl could look at furtively when she missed.

Ladies do not show their weaknesses to others, even in photographs.

And in her thoughts there was only one black-eyed Bulgarian, smiling with the corners of his lips and slouching when tired.

Chapter Text

Fifth year at Hogwarts spoiled the impression of itself on the first day, when classes had not even begun yet. Putting a spoonful of pudding in her mouth, so that her facial expression would not reveal her attitude to what was happening, Henrietta cast a fleeting sideways glance at the woman in bright pink sitting at the teachers' table.

Ladies do not wear bright, vulgar colors.

Dolores Umbridge, as Headmaster Dumbledore introduced her, had allowed herself to violate the most primitive rules of decency. Having not been at the school for an hour, she had interrupted the Headmaster, a man considerably older than herself, and had not even apologized, instead thanking the professor for his "warm words of welcome." And in doing so, she had placed herself above the Headmaster, a great wizard who was already over a hundred years old. Moreover, it would have been forgivable if she had interrupted him accidentally, as if she thought he had finished. But she had deliberately drawn attention to herself during his speech.

With all due disrespect to Mr. Lockhart, who had taught Miss Potter in her second year, she liked him much more than this lady. Who, among other things, had also placed a bag that was clearly too big for that on the dining table.

Miss Umbridge was certainly either too naive, which was doubtful, since she spoke on behalf of the Ministry of Magic and clearly occupied a rather insignificant position there, or hypocritical and preferred to create an overly cloying and bright image around herself.

"Improve what can be improved. Protect what must be protected. Get rid of what should be unacceptable" - Henrietta agreed with these words completely and entirely. But her values ​​​​were clearly different from Miss Umbridge's.

Improve knowledge and skills. Protect etiquette and moral character. Get rid of rudeness and demonstrative disdain. This is how Miss Potter adapted this phrase for herself.

And in her very first lesson, Professor Umbridge showed that she did not agree with the first part. Exclusively theoretical study of spells, exclusively for passing the exam - a practical exam, in fact - in an exclusively safe way.

The indignant ones were assured that there was no danger to children and no one could attack them. When asked who was capable of such a thing, Henrietta raised her hand and answered politely, keeping herself in check.

"I don't think, ma'am, that werewolves, for example, would care whether a child or an adult is in front of them. And they are known to sometimes appear in the Forbidden Forest near the school and there have been incidents when they came out to the castle itself."

Professor Umbridge smiled cloyingly and, folding her hands on her stomach, approached Henrietta.

"It is not for you, Mr. Potter, to speak of dark creatures," she bowed her head with feigned pity, looking at Henrietta. "After all, it was in your city that the Patronus Charm was used by an underage wizard at the beginning of August. And you, as we know, are the only wizard in your hometown."

Inwardly wincing at the accusation, Anri nevertheless smiled politely.

"I think there was a mistake, ma'am, as I was not in England at the time."

The woman's smile turned irritated. She told "Mr. Potter" to come to her office after class. Her office was completely pink - from the walls and table to the feathers and flower pots. There was so much pink that Henrietta began to feel disgusted by it.

"Mr. Potter, lying is unworthy of the decent wizards that we raise from Hogwarts students," the professor said with a sweet smile, getting up from the table. "Especially not to a representative of the Ministry of Magic."

The words about the possibility of requesting confirmation of Ms. Potter's absence from England in August were ignored. She was seated at the table and given a quill with which she had to write the phrase "I must not lie" on parchment.

Taking a furtive glance at the woman who had turned away to the window, Henrietta concluded that she was not being punished for lying. Dolores Umbridge had reasons for her hostility and even hatred towards Miss Potter that Anri herself did not understand. And it was impossible for her, in her own opinion, to openly oppose the professor.

But she was not going to bend over backwards for this woman and write "I must not lie", even if only in ink on parchment.

Therefore, in a neat, twisted handwriting, the pen wrote "I am Lady Potter".

Anri ignored the pain in her left hand. But, casting a fleeting glance at the back of her hand, she bit her lower lip slightly. On the light skin, in bloody scratches, her handwriting wrote "I am Lady Potter".

Henrietta had to suppress the anger and disgust that rose in her as she imagined the words "I must not lie" written on her hand. Suppressing them, she continued to calmly write "I am Lady Potter" until the professor let her go.

Anri took the parchment with her, throwing it into the fire in the Ravenclaw common room.

Ladies do not leave any incriminating traces.

Behaving politely and courteously enough with the new professor was not a problem for Henrietta, she had been learning this since childhood. But Madame Umbridge's actions could not help but worry her.

In September, the Minister issued a decree appointing Dolores Umbridge as Hogwarts' High Inspector, after which the woman began to monitor other teachers' lessons, interfere with them, and look for reasons to fire them. Soon, various decrees on education rained down on the students, which tried to control everything and everywhere.

It was forbidden to listen to music or play musical instruments during school hours, to regularly gather in groups of more than three people without the personal permission of the High Inspector, for male and female students to come within eight inches of each other, to keep items of no educational value within the castle, to read books written by non-wizards and half-bloods, to wear any clothing other than the school uniform… The High Inspector could even confiscate a student's wand.

And on the morning of the day when the Education Decree was issued, prohibiting "changing any aspect of one's physical personality by magic", Madam Umbridge stopped Henrietta in the corridor. The students hurried to hide from the High Inspector's sight, so as not to fall under the hot hand.

"Mr. Potter," the woman smiled sweetly, "it is not proper for boys of your age to wear such long hair. Let me help you!"

One wave of her wand and the black braid falls to the stone floor. Smiling Madam Umbridge leaves, cheerfully whistling a melody.

Henrietta Potter's green eyes burn with hatred.

The students were stripped of everything, forced to fit into the strict framework of the new rules. Henrietta was called to Umbridge's office more than once to serve detentions for which there was no apparent reason. The "I am Lady Potter" scar had stopped healing, tormenting Anri with pain at night.

The common room was filled with discontented grumbling, but quietly - everyone was afraid of being heard. Then the punishment would come. Quite possibly even a physical one, which the High Inspector had returned. In the dormitory, tea was destroyed in packs in the evenings, and sweets, on the contrary, began to be saved - there were also restrictions on parcels and sweets, and no one knew what Dolores Umbridge would do next.

Anri, deprived of her violin, novels and long braid - her pride and treasure - in the mornings gloomily ran her hand through short black curls, adjusting her bangs to cover the scar. No longer the only one on her body now.

The last straw was the ban on teachers telling students any information that was not related to the subject they were teaching. They were simply cut off from adults, taking away any hope of outside help. It was impossible to tell anyone outside the castle about what was happening inside - mail was strictly controlled. The High Inspector had almost unlimited power in Hogwarts.

Henrietta now saw Dolores Umbridge as an invader, establishing new laws in Hogwarts. And few liked these laws.

Remembering how the students of the different Houses had behaved in recent months, Anri took a closer look at them during lunch. The seventh years were trying to be quiet and unnoticeable, afraid that Umbridge might fail them in the upcoming exams and ruin their lives. The sixth years were mostly acting the same way, only a few people from Gryffindor - the Weasley twins and their friend - were standing up to the High Inspector, quietly distributing "bad sweets" around the school that caused vomiting, fever and bleeding, helping to get out of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Two thirds of the fifth years were following the same tactics as the seventh, and the rest were silently protesting, still not risking trouble.

But there was one person in the fifth year, distinguished by a craving for justice and equality, who simply could not be satisfied with this situation. Henrietta glanced at the Gryffindor table, where she easily found the always shaggy Miss Granger.

A plan began to form in Anri's head. Still ghostly and ill-conceived, far from being completed. With the help of her friends, the situation in the different Houses as a whole was clarified. Ravenclaw was quietly dissatisfied, wisely not entering into direct confrontation, Gryffindor was ready to break loose from the chain on Umbridge from the very beginning, Hufflepuff began to "cover itself with a shell" to protect its House, Slytherin was adapting, and some even supported the "Umbridge regime".

"Padma, could you ask your sister to give this to Miss Granger?" Anri handed her friend a sealed letter.

Henrietta shared her plan with her friends, who had earned her trust over the years. Padma and Sabrina were ready to support her with active actions, and Lisa was going to stand next to Anri herself, working out the plan of action and monitoring its implementation.

A week before leaving for the Christmas holidays, Anri and Lisa met Hermione Granger in the library by appointment. Taking a far, deserted corner and casting a silencing charm that no one noticed, the girls first carefully asked Granger her opinion on what was happening, to be completely sure, and then told her their idea.

Hermione Granger's brown eyes lit up with a destructive fire of determination.

It was impossible to work out the plan to the end in a week. Therefore, although everyone grimaced, it was decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. Letters were sent home with warnings that the girls would not be able to return for the holidays. They justified it with important exams that would be at the end of the year, and apologized. Anri also sent a letter to Victor, apologizing for the interrupted correspondence and vaguely informing him that due to school matters she could not maintain contact with people outside of Hogwarts, since "she does not have time for this due to her heavy workload."

During the holidays, the girls would quietly gather in the library, without attracting unnecessary attention, under the pretext of preparing for exams and doing homework. They themselves, casting a silence spell in a far corner, hidden by book shelves, discussed the plan and worked out the details. They made a list of those students who had already agreed to participate, wrote down ideas for future actions.

On Christmas Day of 1995, in a far corner of the Hogwarts school library, a preliminary plan for the Hogwarts Liberation Revolution was drawn up and an agreement was finally concluded between the three leaders of the future revolution - Henrietta Potter, Lisa Turpin and Hermione Granger.

When all the students returned to Hogwarts after the holidays, the girls began to find allies in the three Houses - they decided not to notify Slytherin, in order to avoid information leaks. Gryffindor agreed to participate in the Liberation Revolution in full force, Hufflepuff hesitated, but was inclined to join, Ravenclaw students thought and were ready to coordinate actions, calculate the "enemy" and offer new ideas.

To carry out the Liberation Revolution, a higher level of skills was needed from its participants. Therefore, the organizers diligently compiled detailed self-study notes for independent training in the confines of personal sleeping rooms, and then quietly distributed them. The students trained without attracting unnecessary attention, according to a clear plan, diversionary maneuvers took place when volunteers ran into punishment, exposing themselves so that there would not be a sense of calm before the storm. Henrietta even once went to Umbridge's office for a whole week, where she spent several hours writing lines on parchment with a bloody quill. True, not the lines that the High Inspector demanded, but Miss Potter never left her parchment and carefully hid what she had written. It was even surprising how naive this cruel woman could be, believing that Henrietta was writing "I must not lie", even though she did not trust the girl at all, considering her a troublemaker and a potential threat to peace in the school.

Not without reason, as it turned out.

When Headmaster Dumbledore was removed from office for the vague reason of "plotting against the Minister", it was decided to act immediately.

The Hogwarts Liberation Revolution began quietly with the Weasley twins, who decided to be the first to act openly and to support the students from the "outside world". The twins, as it turned out, knew the secret passages and had access to the castle even without the knowledge of the teachers and, possibly, the Headmaster. Therefore, they had to supply "ammunition" to Hogwarts by secret routes, no longer under the control of Umbridge.

On February 14, Valentine's Day, Hogwarts was lit up with hundreds of firecrackers, fire wheels, various fireworks and sparklers. Magic toys flew around all the floors, enchanted instruments made noise, and one floor turned into a viscous swamp. Fred and George Weasley laughed merrily, creating chaos in Hogwarts and watching how a sweaty Umbridge, who became the new headmistress, rushed around all the floors, trying to put everything in order. The final chord of the twins' incredible performance, which was indirectly supported by the teachers, was their spectacular departure on brooms through the school yard and the order to the most mischievous of the Hogwarts ghosts - Peeves - to terrorize the invader.

From that day on, underground fighting began in Hogwarts. Only the students themselves knew that it was organized and not chaotic. Perhaps some teachers guessed, but did not say so directly. Madame the invader was completely sure that everyone was for themselves.

The trio of organizers closely monitored what was happening and adjusted the plan, quietly transmitting instructions for action. They themselves sometimes "speaked out" so as not to arouse suspicion. The inscription on Anri's left hand did not even fade and was constantly bright and clear. It was necessary to cast interference charms so that Umbridge would not notice something was wrong with Potter's punishment.

The invader couldn't cope with the organized attacks of children who knew things they weren't supposed to know yet. The younger ones disrupted lessons with the help of the twins' "harmful sweets", the older ones continued the noble - in these conditions - cause of sowing local chaos in the school and pissing off Umbridge, passing everyone notes for study. The teachers turned a blind eye to everything, or even silently supported it, having fun on the sidelines.

Nobody likes invaders.

By the end of the school year, Hogwarts had finally plunged into chaos, controlled by three fifth-year girls, which drove the new headmaster crazy. And when the committee arrived at the school to take exams for the fifth and seventh years, it was decided to remove Dolores Umbridge from her position as headmaster, returning Albus Dumbledore. But the Liberation Revolution did not stop there, until the very end, seeking the complete expulsion of the invader from Hogwarts and the cancellation of all the decrees she had introduced.

Dolores Umbridge was expelled from Hogwarts in disgrace, throwing firecrackers and curses after her, Peeves chased her all the way to Hogsmeade, waving Professor McGonagall's heavy cane.

In honor of the liberation of Hogwarts from the Ministry Intervention and the victory of the Hogwarts Liberation Revolution, all the students dyed their robes bright red for one day, singing and laughing loudly, music was heard in the castle, and for dinner, the house-elves from the kitchen, at the ardent request of the organizers of the Revolution, arranged a real feast. The professors supported the students' joy, singing along and enjoying an excellent dinner.

Then, on a new holiday - Hogwarts Independence Day - the cheerful students revealed the secret of their leaders. They were, of course, punished for organizing chaos at school, but "on the occasion of the holiday and the liberation of Hogwarts" the girls were "pardoned", assigning a couple of hours of work after exams as punishment. More precisely, this is what they wanted to do, but the students, excited by the victory, forced the punishment to be completely cancelled. There were even demands to award the Liberation Revolution with medals.

Headmaster Dumbledore, with his characteristic humor, awarded all the participants of the Revolution with chocolate medals in a gold wrapper. Everyone was happy.

Henrietta's hairstyle, which still had short curly hair, instantly became popular among the Hogwarts students as one of the symbols of the Revolution and change. Anri smiled at this with difficulty, dreaming of getting her braid back instead of the "hat" that the invader had arranged for her.

Having passed their exams and packed their things, the Hogwarts students happily and enthusiastically boarded the train, intoxicated with the feeling of victory. Many still had red robes, and the Gryffindor students walked proudly, showing off their red ties.

Henri felt proud of the liberation of Hogwarts that they had arranged. So she was in a good mood on her way to London, chatting with her friends. Some enthusiasts had dyed Liza red, and now she wore a scarlet ponytail, attracting attention. Padma and Sabrina discussed what was happening at Hogwarts and were already thinking about how the Hogwarts Liberation Revolution would be recorded in the new edition of Hogwarts: A History. Everyone was cheerful and could not hold back their happy smiles. Life was wonderful.

And on platform nine and three-quarters, Henrietta Potter was met by Victor, who was as evil as the Devil himself.

Chapter Text

Victor was driving a black car, obviously rented, and was looking at the road carefully. Anri was sitting next to him in the passenger seat and was looking at him sideways with apprehension. The guy was trying to control himself, but his anger was more than noticeable.

"I'm listening."

A short word, but it blew such a coldness that Anri wanted to shrug her shoulders. It was uneasy from such a gloomy tone. Victor didn't even look at her.

“I started a revolution at the school,” Anri answered distantly, leaning back in her chair and looking out the window. There was no reaction from Victor. “At the beginning of the year, a woman from the Ministry was sent to us. She was appointed General Inspector and she began to impose her own rules at Hogwarts. She fired teachers, imposed many restrictions on students, and looked through letters. By December, her dictatorship had crossed all boundaries of reason, and we organized a liberation revolution. We managed to kick her out almost at the end of the school year and return to the old order, canceling all her decrees on education. They took away our magic wands, caught owls, and checked letters, forbidding students to communicate closely with anyone.”

"A new haircut and a scar on your arm?" His voice was no longer so cold, but it wasn't as if it had warmed up much.

"The haircut - boys don't wear long hair. The scar - constant punishments."

They were silent for a while, each looking in their own direction, and then Victor said quietly, almost inaudibly:

"Congratulations on your victory, Etta."

The rest of the way to the Dursleys' house was spent in silence and calm. Victor watched the road carefully, and Anri admired the view outside the window.

At home, her aunt was waiting for her with a hot lingonberry pie in the oven. While they were hugging, Victor parked the car and went into the house.

“He came to visit us for Christmas,” Aunt Petunia whispered in her ear. “He wanted to surprise you and celebrate together, but a few days later a letter arrived instead of you. He was worried.”

The corners of Henrietta’s lips twitched in a weak attempt to smile. It was nice that Victor was worried about her.

After spending a couple of days in England, Henrietta, Aunt Petunia, and Victor went to Bulgaria. Uncle Vernon refused because of work, and Dudley wanted to spend time with friends.

This time they stayed not in Euxinograd, but with the Krams themselves in a small two-story private house, covered with grape vines, standing on the outskirts of Varna.

Vasilika, smiling happily and wiping her hands with a towel, met them, immediately escorting them to the kitchen and trying to feed them. Radko was at work, and Prince Oblonsky, according to Vasilika, was supposed to drop by in the evening in the next couple of days.

“Etta, would you mind sharing what happened at your school?” the woman sat down opposite her, looking at her with interest and ignoring her son’s quiet requests to stop.

Trying not to go into too much detail, which was difficult to do with Vasilika, Henrietta told them about the events of this year. Petunia sighed nearby, sympathetically placing her hand on her niece’s shoulder. Victor, who had heard a less detailed version, frowned and looked gloomily at the scar on the back of Anri’s left hand. Vasilika covered her lips with her fist, and then looked at the girl a little guiltily.

"I'm afraid it's our fault, my dear," she smiled awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped from her bun behind her ear. "Perhaps Stefo and I were pushing your Minister too hard. But who knew he was so nervous?!" she threw up her hands, jumping up from her seat to put a plate of dumplings on the table, which she quickly laid out on plates. "Eat them while they're hot."

"Could you explain..."

Anri didn't have time to finish, as Victor coughed, covering his mouth with his hand, and reached for a glass of water, taking a sip. He carefully opened the dumpling with a fork, looking inside.

"Mom!" he looked indignantly at Vasilika. "It's not New Year's, what fortune-telling do you need?"

The woman looked at her son with feigned bewilderment, but her smile gave her away. Henrietta looked from Victor to Vasilika, not understanding what was happening.

"Peanuts, raisins, cabbage... Полудял ли си? Благодаря ти, разбира се, за пожеланията за страстна любов и бърз брак, но по-скоро ще ме отровиш, отколкото да ме принудиш да се оженя!"

"Oh," Vasilika waved her hand dismissively, "no one has ever died from that. I once ate some with candy, garlic and beans - and nothing, I'm alive and well, and I raised you, нахално момче."

Anri looked doubtfully at the dumplings on her plate, but, so as not to offend her hostess, she carefully tried one. Cucumber, cabbage and sweet pepper, not bad at all. Better than Victor's, anyway.

"Etta, my dear, which one did you get?"

Hearing the answer, Vasilika clapped her hands joyfully, and Victor hid his face in his hands with a doomed groan, muttering something under his breath.

To the question of his father who had returned, Victor only muttered, "Mum's machinations," nodding towards the plate of dumplings. The man nodded understandingly and grinned, and moved away from the kitchen so that they wouldn't tell him anything.

"Excuse me, but could you please clarify your words about our Minister?" Anri repeated her question, beginning to suspect that it was not for nothing that Umbridge had come to Hogwarts and gotten mad at her.

"You see, Etta," Vasilika sat down next to her disgruntled son, "Stefo and I didn't really like the articles about you, so we started putting a little pressure on Fudge..."

"And then Uncle really didn't like the gift I sent him and your scar," Victor muttered, suspiciously rummaging through the dumplings and trying to find an edible one.

"A gift?" Anri frowned, remembering what happened in her fourth year. "If I'm not mistaken, you sent those two from the Tournament finals somewhere?"

"Exactly," the boy nodded.

"Yes, that too," Vasilika nodded reluctantly. "My brother and I put pressure on Fudge because of the discussion of you, the false rumors about you as a boy, because of what happened at the third stage of the Tournament…"

"This woman threatened to start a war against England because of the danger of a new Dark Lord appearing, the germ of which Victor sent me via portkey and a fragment of whose personality we pulled out of your scar," Prince Oblonsky appeared in the doorway, immediately walking to the table and taking a dumpling from the plate. After chewing it and spitting a coin into his hand, he muttered contentedly. "Success in business and wealth, not bad…"

Henrietta, meanwhile, looked in horror from the smiling Vasilika to the completely calm prince and back. A war between England and Bulgaria? A Dark Lord? In her scar?..

One liberation revolution was more than enough for her so far!

"However," Vasilika thoughtfully pressed her fingers to her lips, "your newspapers, it seems, wrote that you, Etta, and your headmaster want to remove Fudge from his post..."

"This paranoid, apparently, decided that you and old Dumbledore are to blame for everything," Stefan snorted, sitting down next to Viktor and helping himself to food. "It was immediately clear from him that he was out of his mind. I wish he would leave his post as soon as possible, с такъв тъпак на власт не можеш да си сигурен, че няма да направи нищо."

"And this Umbridge..." Vasilika drawled. "I met her in your Ministry of Magic. Fudge's assistant, his ardent supporter. And she can't stand strong people. And you can immediately tell that you are strong and independent."

Anri barely suppressed a snort. Of course, it was obvious - that's why everyone initially thought she was weak and spineless.

"And what, Etta, did you get into trouble for that?" Stefan asked, looking up from his dumplings.

"She organized a revolution there. Заради теб нейното училище беше подложено на тирания. Определено не мразя белега, но сега тя ще го има за цял живот. Заради теб," Victor didn't look up from his plate, not looking at his uncle.

"A scar?" the man frowned, looking at Henrietta and stopping his gaze on her slightly twitching left hand.

Petunia's gaze dropped there too. She pursed her lips in displeasure, exhaling angrily.

“This is…” Vasilika began, not knowing what to say.

"Madam Umbridge used a dark artifact," Anri shrugged slightly, trying not to attach much importance to it. Umbridge and her decrees are in the past and that's the main thing. "Many students now have such scars, but we minimized the consequences. Apart from me, only five from the entire school have a clear scar, the rest we tried to protect from detentions and carefully treated the wounds, in a few months only light traces will remain. However," she frowned, remembering the strange conversation at the beginning of the year, with which her detentions began, "she said something about an underage wizard using the Patronus charm in our city in August, when we were still here. But I'm the only underage witch there."

"Patronus?" Vasilika pursed her lip, remembering. "It's used against Dementors, am I right?"

Anri nodded, turning her gaze to Prince Oblonsky.

"Perhaps she wanted to get rid of you to eliminate the main cause of the Ministry's problems, as she thought," the man narrowed his eyes slightly. "If you had been at home, her plan would have been successful in any case - either the Dementors would have pulled out your soul, or you would have broken the ban on witchcraft outside of school to protect yourself."

"We left in time," Petunia muttered to the side.

Anri couldn't help but agree with her aunt. Viktor and Vasilika's invitation had really saved them. The Dementors could have attacked one of the Dursleys, and they wouldn't have been able to protect themselves.

Victor put down his glass of water with a loud bang and rose from the table.

"Enough gloomy talk. The Minister's assistant was expelled from school, Etta and Mrs. Dursley were taken to us. The reasons for all this commotion have been sorted out. Now can I take the girl to the theater?" Victor addressed his uncle and mother and was clearly irritated.

"Go ahead," Stefan grinned, pointing his hand towards the kitchen exit.

Victor offered his hand to Anri, which she gladly accepted. It would be simply unbearable to remain in this atmosphere of tension any longer. But going to the theater with Victor was very interesting.

"May I ask what fortune telling with dumplings you were talking about?" the girl remembered on the way.

Victor jerked his head and turned to look at her with a crooked smile.

"You'll find out some other time. I'm sure my mother will be very happy to tell you about it and translate the meaning of that dumpling you got."

Judging by the expression on his face, Victor himself didn't want to tell her about it. But since Vasilika was happy, Anri decided that there couldn't be anything terrible there and let go of these thoughts.

"Then shall we hurry to the theater?" she asked with a soft smile, carefully grasping Victor's arm around the elbow.

"We still have time to walk around the Seaside Park. If you want, we can stop by the zoo or the dolphinarium later," the guy relaxed, his smile no longer crooked.

Anri smiled a little wider, squeezing his hands a little tighter. It was nice to hold on to Victor.

A month in Bulgaria flew by. Conversations with Vasilika and, sometimes, Prince Oblonsky, walks with Victor and visits to plays and concerts. Vasilika showed her and Aunt Petunia several recipes for Bulgarian dishes, and Mr. Krum gave her an incredible gift - he gave her the address of a magical beauty salon, where Anri's hair was restored to its previous length, now it was even silkier and thicker, which could not but please the girl. Victor also liked the restored braid. She did not want to leave Bulgaria again. Victor was suspicious of her departure, probably remembering the previous year, when there was almost no contact between them. Henrietta had to assure him that this year this would definitely not happen and they would be able to correspond regularly. But the guy calmed down only after Anri hugged him and briefly pressed her lips to his cheek.

And upon arrival in England, a surprise awaited her in the form of Draco Malfoy, grimacing discontentedly near her house. With a reassuring smile, sending her aunt into the house, Anri approached the wizard who was obviously waiting for her.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy, to what do I owe your visit?"

"Good afternoon, Miss Potter," Draco nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. "I have two requests for you, Henrietta... Anri," he twitched the corner of his lips, unobtrusively suggesting that they switch to a less formal address, Anri nodded in agreement. "Will you listen?"

"Of course," Henrietta smiled. "But I suggest we go into the house. Talking in the middle of the street will probably not be too convenient."

Having settled in the kitchen and brewed tea, for which cakes and sweets were placed on the table, they talked for some time about distant topics. Having finished her second cup of tea, Anri put it down, carefully crossing her hands on her knees.

"So, Mr. Malfoy," she saw a raised eyebrow and corrected herself, slightly bowing her head in agreement and apology, "Draco, what did you want to talk about?"

"There are two people I would very much like you to meet," he was slightly nervous, twirling his mug with his fingers. "First of all, a candidate for our new teachers. I suppose you weren't too thrilled with Madam Umbridge either, since you organized a rebellion?" he raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a slight, not malicious mockery. "Fearing that the next teacher would be even worse, the Board of Governors of the school decided to take care of this and help the headmaster. Professor Snape is to become the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and the previous Head of Slytherin, Professor Slughorn, is supposed to be taken in place of the Potions teacher."

"I don't quite understand what the problem is," Anri narrowed her eyes slightly with a smile, pouring Draco's tea.

"The problem is," he began slowly, looking at her carefully, "that Professor Slughorn himself doubts whether he should accept this offer."

"And how can I help the Board of Governors?" Henrietta raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You may not be the Boy-Who-Lived," Draco grinned, "but you are still the one who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a baby. And Horace Slughorn is famous for his love of... collecting celebrities. So I am here to convey to you a request from the Board of Governors to meet with Mr. Slughorn and persuade him to teach Potions at Hogwarts."

"I understand," Anri said thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly to the side. "If I'm not mistaken, you, Mr... Draco, were talking about two requests?"

"Yes," Draco nodded, squeezing the handle of the mug with his fingers. "The second request is more... personal. There is one person who would very much like to meet you. He is currently outside of England, but I could arrange a meeting for you in Hogsmeade one weekend."

"May I know the reason why you are doing this?" Henrietta looked at him with interest, not having noticed such noble impulses in him before.

"This person is a distant relative of mine, currently under the care of my family. He has long wanted to see you, but due to health problems and some... rumors," he carefully chose the word, "it was impossible."

"I suppose the rumors have died down now?"

"A little," Draco answered reluctantly. "That's why the meeting will be quiet, I don't want many people to know about my relative."

"Can I trust you and your relative?" Anri asked, wiping the smile off her face.

Draco looked at her with the same serious look.

"You have done me a great service, for which I am grateful. Besides… we are on the same side."

"How should I understand such ambiguous words?" Anri narrowed her eyes.

"We have similar goals," he chuckled, sipping his tea. "The Malfoy family is not your enemy, Henrietta Potter. I think we could even become allies."

"I'll think about it," Anri nodded. "I suppose I can answer the invitation to meet your relative later?" Draco nodded, confirming this. "But it would be worth sorting out the new teacher soon, so that the school can compile lists of textbooks and send them to the students."

"Exactly right," Draco smiled contentedly, breaking the cake with a teaspoon.

"Then I think we should visit Mr. Slughorn as soon as possible. I hope you will join me?" Anri looked at him questioningly, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"My father, as the head of the Board of Governors, wanted to go to Mr. Slughorn with you. But I think I can join you, if that's what you want," he chuckled, slightly closing his eyes, enjoying the cake.

"I didn't know Mr. Malfoy was the head of the Board of Governors," Anri raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I'm afraid you don't know much about the wizarding world, even though you've been living in it for several years," Draco shook his head. "I'll tell you a secret, it was the Board of Governors that covered up the incident with Quirrell in our first year, and not the Headmaster at all."

"I heard that you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger snuck into the Forbidden Corridor and injured the professor, but would that have required the Board of Governors to intervene?" Henrietta poured tea into the cups, looking at her interlocutor with hidden curiosity.

"Oh," the guy smiled contentedly, preparing to tell a fascinating story that would cause admiration in the listener, "it was much more complicated, Henrietta. I'll start with the fact that idiot Weasley decided that the Philosopher's Stone of Nicholas Flamel was hidden in the school, which hid it in the Forbidden Corridor, and it is being hunted by - you won't believe it - Professor Snape."

"Really?" Anri asked sympathetically, supporting the storyteller.

She seemed to have heard something about the Philosopher's Stone in her first year and once, due to the tyranny of the stairs, she got stuck on the floor where the Forbidden Corridor was. She had to wait until Mr. Filch, who was patrolling the corridors, came, since the stubborn stairs, having turned when Anri was almost getting off them on the right floor, immediately turned away from the girl who had come out of surprise and did not turn, which is why Anri got stuck without the possibility of getting out on her own.

"Yes," Draco nodded, sipping his tea. "And Granger, indulging his stupidity, was looking for evidence of this. They even followed the Head, considering him a spy," he laughed.

"And how did you end up with them?"           

"To be honest, I wanted to catch Weasley breaking the rules and turn him in to the teachers," Malfoy admitted. "But when I went to the room on the Forbidden Floor after Weasley and Granger, I couldn't get out - the door was jammed, and there was a huge Cerberus in front of me."

"Did there really have been such a dangerous creature on the third floor of the school for a whole year?" Anri put her hand to her lips, acting a little theatrical to maintain Draco's interest in the story. She wanted to know what had actually happened there.

"We were lucky it was a puppy," the guy was distracted for a couple of seconds to eat another piece of cake. "Hagrid, that lover of all sorts of monsters, told Weasley that his Cerberus falls asleep from music. Never tried so hard to sing a lullaby before," he muttered a little quieter. "So," he looked up at Anri, "we jumped into a hatch guarded by a Cerberus and fell right into the thicket of Devil's Snare."

"But they grab all living creatures approaching them and try to strangle them," Anri was surprised, putting more cakes on Draco's saucer, which he liked.

"Granger may be a nerd, but she can be useful too - she remembered that the Devil's Snare is afraid of light. There was no way to get up without problems, so I had to go on with them. And there was a room with a lot of flying keys," he made big eyes. "I took a broom and, as a natural Quidditch player, caught the right key, and then I was able to fly away from the enraged others. In the next room there was a huge living chess. I must admit, Weasley is not completely useless, " Malfoy said reluctantly. "He was good enough to become a victim of the chess pieces and stay there. Then I had to go on with Granger. The troll, the one that escaped on Halloween, was in the next room and, to my great relief, was unconscious."

"Was that troll really kept in the Forbidden Corridor?" Anri raised her eyebrows. "And he was able to get past the Cerberus without getting hurt? Or was there a second exit from the corridor?"

“I don’t know,” Draco was confused. “Maybe the Cerberus was sleeping then or just scared of the troll, he’s still a puppy,” the guy snorted and returned to the story. “Next, a riddle from the Head was waiting for us - both entrances to the hall were cut off from us by flames, and on the table in the center there were vials with liquid - two with nettle wine, three with poison, one with a potion to go back, and the other with a potion to go forward. We quickly solved this riddle, but there was only enough potion to go forward for one sip. And Granger was about to burst into tears," Anri had doubts about this part, since Hermione, even in her first year, didn't look like the kind of person who would cry over something like that - she would rather leave Malfoy in the hall and go 'fight evil' herself, "but I used the extension charm, and the potion was enough for both of us. And Professor Quirrell was waiting for us in the last room. Granger went in first, and while she was standing in a stupor, I managed to hide behind a column, which is why only she was tied up. Quirrell was telling us about his plan, lamenting..." he hesitated. "Lamenting that it wasn't you who came. He hoped to "defeat his enemy." What you have to do with it, I still don't understand, to be honest. He was trying to find the Philosopher's Stone in a large mirror, but he couldn't see it. Then Quirrell grabbed Granger and dragged her to the mirror, forcing her to tell him what she saw. Granger is annoying, of course, and sometimes she behaves like a complete idiot," Anri winced slightly at this expression, "but she still has brains. She said that she saw Quirrell climbing into the mirror. And, imagine, he climbed!" Draco laughed. "It was funny - to watch the professor's head end up in the mirror. Granger slipped out of her robes and fell to the floor. And I, like a hero-savior," he proudly threw his head back, "jumped out and threw a spell at the professor. He was half stuck in the mirror, unable to get out. Only his legs were sticking out! Then Professor Snape came and Stunned Quirrell, and took us to the Hospital Wing. "He hissed and cursed, of course," Draco winced slightly, "but he helped. They couldn't get Quirrell out of the mirror, they turned him over to the Department of Mysteries, and the Board of Governors covered it all up. That's how the rumor spread around the school that we had maimed the poor professor, which is why he left school," Malfoy giggled. "But it seemed to me then that Quirrell was somehow different. He didn't stutter and acted confidently. Perhaps we were just lucky, but that's in the past. I don't know what's wrong with Quirrell now, but he's unlikely to ever be released from the Department of Mysteries."

"Oh, so," Anri drawled, sipping her tea. "An interesting story. I'm glad you're all safe."

"I survived a Cerberus, a Devil's Snare, and a magical fire, which some stuttering, bungling professor would have done to me," Draco waved his hand, but his frivolity was clearly feigned. "By the way, where have you been all this time? I've been waiting for you for a week," he looked at her with displeasure.

"Aunt Petunia and I were relaxing," Henrietta smiled, without going into details. "Back to the question of Mr. Slughorn," she changed the subject. "I think it would be nice to visit him, say, the day after tomorrow. You know where he lives, right?" she raised her eyebrows, looking at Draco.

He grimaced slightly and broke off a large piece of cake, as if he was trying to overcome his dissatisfaction with something sweet.

"Professor Slughorn is an old friend of Headmaster Dumbledore, so the Board of Governors were able to find out where the professor is now with the help of the Headmaster."

This wording made Henrietta wary. It seemed that Mr. Slughorn was hiding. But what or who could have made the respected, apparently, wizard hide?

"I think it's time for me to go, I'm already late," Draco stood up, looking at the remaining cakes with a little regret in his eyes. "Father and I will come for you the day after tomorrow to visit Professor Slughorn. Around twelve o'clock, will that be convenient for you?"

"Of course, I'll be ready to go with you to visit the professor by noon," Anri smiled, standing up after him. "I can wrap you up a couple of cakes to take with you, if you want," she took pity on the boy, who turned out to have a sweet tooth.

Draco looked at her with gratitude and nodded. Carefully placing the cakes in a plastic container and tying it with a ribbon, Henrietta handed it to Draco.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Henrietta," Malfoy smiled at her, carefully holding the cakes to himself. "Have a good day."

"Goodbye, Draco," Anri nodded.

The guy disappeared with a pop, and a hungry Dudley entered the kitchen, not daring to disturb the talking wizards.

"Is there anything edible?" the cousin fell into a chair, immediately reaching for the sweets in the bowl.

Anri pushed the bowl away, looking at him reproachfully.

"Just wait a few minutes, I'll heat up some shepherd's pie for you," she headed for the fridge, which she had managed to examine briefly while taking out the cakes and sweets.

"And dessert?" Dudley drawled pitifully, whom Petunia had recently been trying to put on a gentle diet so that he would lose some excess weight.

"Rice pudding," Anri glanced over her shoulder at her brother. "But only if you abstain from sweets. Sweets ruin your appetite."

Dudley obediently removed his hands from the sweets and pushed the vase, which he had managed to pull towards himself, away.

Soon the kitchen smelled deliciously of potato and lamb casserole, roses bloomed outside the window, faded due to the absence of their hostesses and slightly bowed, not as lush as before, buds, a light breeze slightly swayed the transparent white curtains on the open window.

Henrietta felt this incredible feeling of returning to her home, where everything is so familiar and close and the family is waiting. The hungry rumbling of Dudley's stomach very clearly confirmed this.

Smiling, Anri put the casserole on the table, catching the extremely satisfied wide smile of her cousin. Yes, for the sake of such smiles of her loved ones, perhaps she would even be ready to abandon all her dreams, becoming an ordinary housewife, if only the family was happy.

Chapter Text

Meeting Professor Slughorn was interesting. If only because he pretended to be an easy chair when they entered the house. The only thing that gave him away was his poorly disguised shoes, which was probably due to the rush. After greeting, introducing himself, and politely asking him to assume human form, Mr. Slughorn transformed into himself. His pyjamas turned out to be the same color as the upholstery of the chair he was pretending to be.

Mr. Malfoy spoke briefly with Mr. Slughorn, and then left with his son, allowing Miss Potter to speak with the future professor alone.

Horace Slughorn turned out to be a very pleasant man with many acquaintances and a great love of comfort. He was polite and slightly fatherly, smiling warmly and talking about his favorite student, Lily Evans, Henrietta's mother.

"Mr. Slughorn, sir, I would be very grateful if you would agree to return to Hogwarts as the Potions Professor. It would be a great honor for every student to study under you," Henrietta smiled, looking at the photographs of the professor's former students. Among them was Mr. Malfoy, which made the corner of her lips twitch slightly. Who would have doubted it.

"I'm not sure, Miss Potter, that this is a good idea," the man drawled, looking away at the ceiling.

"You are invited by the Board of Governors, sir, this guarantees your safety as a teacher. And it seems to me that you, who graduated so many famous students, will not have any trouble returning to teaching."

"Are you going to study the difficult science of Potions this year, Miss Potter?" he looked at her with interest, folding his hands on his stomach.

"I am inclined to make such a decision, sir," Anri smiled. "And I would be glad to see such a famous and talented person as you as my Potions teacher."

"Well, Miss Potter," he smiled warmly and straightened the photo of Lily Evans, "then I will see you at Hogwarts. I hope you will not disappoint me in class."

"I will make an effort for that, sir," Henrietta bowed her head, lowering her eyes to the floor. "All the best, Professor."

"Have a nice end to your holidays, Miss Potter," she heard a voice behind her.

The Malfoys were pleased and treated her to ice cream as a token of gratitude. Henrietta did not consider it necessary to refuse this offer.

It was the first year when all the professors knew from the very first day that she was a girl. Only the first years, who had heard and read about the Boy-Who-Lived since childhood, considered her a boy, but they soon had everything explained to them too. To be honest, she was often called the usual "Harry" for the rest, which irritated her, but at least she was no longer "Mr. Potter".

Rita Skitter's articles, in which she wrote about Henrietta as a boy, were ridiculed by schoolchildren, mocking the journalist's blindness. Anri, however, after a summer conversation with Victor's relatives began to think that Miss Skitter was deliberately provoking a scandal and ruining the reputation of the Potter name. Skitter's articles were notable for their unreliability and successful attempts to inflate a scandal, which everyone knew very well. Many people liked to read her articles, but no one wanted to become the main character of Miss Skitter's article. Therefore, Hogwarts students, even the most stubborn of whom realized after the Yule Ball that Anri was a girl, discussed these articles and laughed, but did not take them particularly seriously. Except, perhaps, for the relationship with Victor. However, as Padma reflected, it was worth thanking Miss Skitter for distorting the information - her article stunned the readers so much that the female half of them, sighing lovingly for Krum, simply forgot to send Anri unpleasant surprises.

Whatever happens, everything happens for the best. Even last year's forced image change because of Umbridge brought unexpected pleasant results. Some Hogwarts students repeated last year's Henrietta's hairstyle, which they called the symbol of the Liberation Revolution, and this hairstyle really suited them. Sabrina, for example, was very pleased with her new hairstyle, affectionately running her hand over the short curls twisted with a special spell.

Anri considered it inappropriate to take all the subjects she attended last year for a more in-depth study. Therefore, only four subjects remained in her schedule - Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Herbology.

Professor Snape, although he was forced to change the subject he taught, remained Professor Snape. He enthusiastically talked about the Dark Arts and ways to protect against them and began teaching students the non-verbal use of spells. Stern and quick to make caustic remarks, he nevertheless gave good advice. Which, however, had to be understood behind a ton of sarcasm and causticity. Henrietta had no problem with this.

But the first lesson with Professor Slughorn aroused curiosity. Anri, accustomed to Professor Snape's exactingness and interested in Potions herself, leafed through the textbook in advance, reading the first twenty pages more carefully. The tables were designed for four, and five Ravenclaws came to the lesson, including Anri. Having looked around the room and noticed that four Slytherin students occupied the neighboring table, and only three were sitting at the professor standing right in front of the potions cauldrons - Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger and Mr. Macmillan from Hufflepuff, Henrietta smiled at her classmates and went forward, settling down next to Miss Granger, with whom they had improved their relations a little last year due to the organization of the fight against Umbridge.

Lisa and Padma, who remained with their year prefect Mr. Goldstein and his friend Mr. Boot, only nodded understandingly. Breaking up Goldstein and Booth hadn't been the best idea, putting Padma next to the Weasleys was even worse, and suggesting that Lisa move was unseemly, Anri thought. So she sat down at the front table, immediately smelling the pleasant aroma from the cauldron, over which the smoke curled in a spiral.

As the professor, or rather Miss Granger, explained, this cauldron contained the most powerful love potion, Amortentia. It smelled different to everyone, enchanting them with the most pleasant and beloved scent.

The aroma of frosty air, morning roses and spruce was truly enchanting. Anri locked away the embarrassing thought that the smell of spruce was strongly associated with Victor.

The professor showed them a small bottle of liquid gold-colored potion, Felix Felicis, the potion of luck. This bottle was to be a reward for the student who would complete the first lesson assignment best and prepare the Draught of Living Death, a powerful sleeping potion capable of putting someone into a coma, or even into an eternal sleep, if the dosage was incorrect.

Henrietta perceived Potion-making as something like magical cooking, following the recipe only so far and relying now more on her experience and intuition. She determined the moment when to add the next ingredient by eye or smell, she cut valerian root and asphodel root the same way as ginger root or carrots, and crushed the drowsy beans with the flat side of a silver knife so that more juice would come out - for juice, it is also better not to cut cherries into small pieces, but to squeeze them, squeezing the juice into a container. And silver, as Professor Snape once mentioned in class, has the least effect on ingredients of plant origin, in most cases preserving all their properties unchanged.

When the time was up and the professor told them to stop working, the potion in Anri's cauldron was almost transparent with a delicate lilac hue. Remembering her mother's talent for potion-making, Professor Slughorn gave Henrietta a vial of luck potion, which would last for twelve hours. The girl herself thought that she had brewed the potion more thanks to her aunt, who taught her to cook and instilled a love for culinary experiments and trust in her intuition, and Professor Snape, in whose lessons she carefully listened to everything he said, and not to her mother's genes.

The professor asked her to stay after the lesson. Nodding to Liza and Padma, Henrietta remained in the Potions classroom, looking at the professor with a questioning look in her eyes.

"I am very pleased with your progress, Miss Potter. May I address you by your name?" after a slight nod, he continued. "Henrietta, I would like to know if you are going to connect your future life with Potions and get a Mastery?"

"I like Potions, sir," smiled Anri, "but I do not think that I will do it professionally in the future."

"What do you want to do then?" Professor Slughorn looked at her with interest, folding his hands on his stomach.

"I have not decided yet, sir," Anri narrowed her eyes slightly, showing her awkwardness from this question. "I would like to continue growing roses in my aunt's garden, but I don't think it can become a profession," she shrugged slightly.

"Why not?" the man smiled. "Henrietta, tell me, would you like to try growing roses? Magic varieties? Or create your own unique variety?"

Anri was taken aback and looked at the professor with genuine surprise.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re getting at, sir,” she said with an apologetic smile.

“Oh, I’m simply suggesting that you try to breed a new variety of magical rose under my supervision, Henrietta,” Professor Slughorn broke into a wide, satisfied smile. “If you succeed, you could breed and sell roses, specializing in this. By any chance, have you continued your studies with Professor Sprout in Herbology this year?”

“Yes, sir, I took Herbology for advanced study,” Anri confirmed.

Could she really do what she loved and make it her profession? Is it possible for her?

"Then I think we could come to an agreement with Professor Sprout. It would be quite interesting, wouldn't it?" he narrowed his eyes slyly.

"Yes, sir, very interesting. I would like to try it, if possible," Anri's eyes lit up with delight.

"Then I'll come to an agreement with Pomona, and then we'll think about how best to proceed. For now, you can study the material in the library on plant hybridization and caring for magical rose varieties. And regular ones too - it wouldn't hurt," the professor advised, returning to the cauldrons.

"Thank you very much, Professor Slughorn. Have a nice day," Anri curtsied slightly and ran off to her next lesson.

Her thoughts were now occupied with roses and the possibility of working with them here at Hogwarts. Working with magical rose varieties and creating her own. Incredible chance!

Henrietta was overwhelmed with delight after this conversation, and studying the necessary literature in the library took up time. Carried away by creating a plan for hybridization and choosing suitable varieties, the girl did not even notice how the weekend approached, when they were allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Where a meeting with Draco's mysterious relative awaited her.

Anri and Draco met in the village near the sweets shop, and then the guy led her to an old hut, which was called the Howling. Already approaching the abandoned building, Anri noticed a large black dog, similar to the one that sometimes appeared on the streets of her city.

"What are you doing here?" Draco hissed at him unexpectedly. "Now, quickly, into the house!"

The dog growled discontentedly, but obediently jumped into the broken window of the Howling hut. Anri raised an eyebrow, skeptically looking at the only, apparently, entrance to the hut - a broken window on the first floor.

“It’s inconvenient, but this is the only way to get in unnoticed,” Draco shook his head and climbed into the window.

Luckily, he gave her his hand and helped her inside.

Ladies do not enter through windows.

Henrietta makes an exception to this rule for the first and, she hopes, the last time. Only for the sake of meeting this unknown relative of Malfoy's, who really wanted to see her.

And instead of a dog, a grown man was waiting for them in the house, whose face had been threateningly looking at passersby from wanted posters for several years in a row. Sirius Black, the criminal who escaped from Azkaban prison, the one she accidentally saved from the Dementors in her third year, her father's best friend and her godfather. And, judging by Draco's calm, the very relative who was eager to meet.

Henrietta snatched her wand, smoothly stepping aside so that she could see both Malfoy and Black's actions at the same time.

"Calm down, Henrietta, I told you you could trust us," Draco raised his hands in a calming gesture. "He's not going to attack, I assure you."

"Harry, I rocked you in my arms when you were little, sang you lullabies instead of Jamie who was tired after a patrol," the man with long curly black hair grinned. "I even carried you on my back, you once pulled all the fur off my back. And do you really think I'm going to hurt you now?" He laughed a barking laugh.

"He passed the healers' check, including the mental state check, and received my mother's personal permission to go out in public after etiquette, manners, and other lessons," Draco tried to calm her down.

Anri didn't like this whole situation. And now she won't be able to get out of here on her own - Malfoy is standing by the window, and Black is at the door, no one knows where it leads to. She didn't have any Portkeys with her, and there was no way to move in another way either. Try to call for help and hope that they will hear? But Malfoy and Black are closer...

Suddenly Black took off his robe, remaining in jeans and a T-shirt, and threw it aside, threw his wand at Henrietta's feet, and sat down on the floor, raising his hands up.

"Is that better?" he snorted. "Are you ready to listen to me now?"

Anri did not show her surprise at his action. He had disarmed himself, showing that he was not dangerous - unreasonable. What if she attacks him now? And he did not foresee this at all, is not worried at all?

"Listen, he agreed to my mother's manners lessons for the sake of meeting you," Draco exhaled irritably. "And even I can't stand them."

Anri lowered her wand slightly, showing that she was ready to listen, twitching the corner of her lips.

Mr. Black began the story from the very beginning - with his friendship with James Potter, with the creation of their company, which they called "Marauders", to which Anri winced slightly - a dubious name for their group of friends. He told about two more members of their company - Remus Lupin, who taught Henrietta in her third year, and Peter Pettigrew, about the confrontation with Severus Snape - that same Professor Snape, now it is clear why he looked at her with such suspicion in her first year - and about the brave, smart, beautiful Lily Evans. About how James won Lily's love, how they got married and had Henrietta. About how everyone loved her. He told that together with her father he served in the Auror - the magical police of England, that together they fought against the Dark Lord. He told them about the prophecy that Headmaster Dumbledore had given them - that Henrietta might be the child who would have the power to defeat the Dark Lord - and about the concealment spell that had been cast on the Potters' house after that, and that they wanted to make Sirius the keeper of it, but he insisted on Peter, as the most inconspicuous and "insignificant". About Peter's betrayal and Black's own despair when he found his dead friends and little "Harry" alone in a crib in a dilapidated room. How he handed her over to Hagrid and went in pursuit of Peter. How Pettigrew had staged a performance, making everyone believe in his innocence, how Black had been put in Azkaban for betraying the Potters and aiding the Dark Lord. How he had survived twelve years in Azkaban among the dementors with the help of animagus and a thought of revenge on Pettigrew, specially fixed in his head. How he saw a rat-Peter in the newspaper, who in his animagus form lived as a pet rat in the Weasley family. How this, due to a looping thought, made him run away and rush to take revenge. How in "moments of clarity" he in the form of a dog came to the Dursleys' house and watched her. How he ended up in Hogwarts, trying to catch a traitor and how he met his nephew, Weasley and Granger during the capture of Pettigrew, how Lupin helped him - who turned out to be a werewolf, by the way - and how Draco helped him escape from the Hogwarts tower, where he was locked after being caught, when he tried to recapture the escaped Peter. How he flew to the forest on a hippogriff, when suddenly he found himself in the Malfoy estate, and next to him stood a house elf - Draco ordered to follow his uncle. How he argued with his cousin and her Death Eater husband - Lucius Malfoy, it turns out, was a supporter of the Dark Lord. How he was sent to other countries for treatment, how he had to go through many tests, how he escaped from supervision in order to see her at least from the outside through the eyes of a dog. How he finally passed Narcissa Malfoy's harsh course in etiquette and manners, after which and the last appointment with a healer in the Netherlands he was finally allowed to meet his goddaughter, who by this time was already at Hogwarts. And how happy he is now to see her, grown up and brave, beautiful and smart - the last according to Draco.

Black's story took several hours. He was often distracted by side stories and carried away by memories. After fifteen minutes, Draco got tired of standing and sat down on the floor under the window. Henrietta held out for another ten minutes, and then transfigured a soft pouf from some trash, on which she sat. Ladies do not sit on the floor.

"Knowing the nasty character of Lily's sister, I thought about taking you to live with me, but," he winced, and then smiled, albeit with a stretch, "you seem to be living well with her."

"I love Aunt Petunia, Mr. Black, and I am not going to move from her to you," Anri said firmly, shaking her wand in her hand, which she had lowered long ago.

Mr. Black, of course, could have lied to her, but... His words fit too well with what she had learned from others. And the emotions in his eyes were reflected very brightly - it seemed that he was completely unable to control them.

Or he doesn't hold back on purpose, to show his sincerity and win her trust.

"I understand," the man nodded. "You don't know me at all and don't remember me, but you love Petunia, no matter how I personally feel about her. But please, without ‘Mr. Black’," he winced. "Just Sirius. Mr. Black was my father and we had a relationship..."

"It's getting dark, we'll be heading back soon," Draco said, looking out the window onto the street. "By the way, won't your friends lose you?"

"No need to worry, Lisa went to the edge of the Forbidden Forest to get herbs. Yesterday, the entire faculty heard me express my desire to go with her. But if I don't return in time..." Henrietta looked at Draco suggestively.

If Miss Potter doesn't return on time, Lisa Turpin will make a fuss and everyone will find out with whom and when Henrietta left, after which it will be Draco who will be interrogated.

"Are you sure you got to the right House?" Malfoy muttered.

"The Hat is never wrong, is it?" Anri raised her eyebrows, smiling slightly. "But perhaps we really should go back."

"Harry," Sirius, still sitting with his hands up, called out to her, having not changed his position in all these hours, "can we meet and talk sometimes? I understand that I am not a close person to you, but I would like to become your family."

"Please agree, he has been whining about you all this time, I will not stand it if he starts howling that you do not give him a chance," Draco frowned, glancing sideways at his uncle.

Anri looked thoughtfully at the man sitting in front of her. He was calm and open, speaking clearly and thinking, seemingly sensibly enough. Could he be trusted? It was unknown. Could she afford to find out?

Sometimes a lady has to take risks to avoid making a mistake she will later regret. But one must always act carefully and cautiously.

"Perhaps we could see each other sometimes in Hogsmeade on weekends. In Draco's presence, of course," she smiled, showing that she was ready to try, but was not going to trust him completely yet.

"As you say, baby," Sirius smiled contentedly, nodding. "And now can I get up? My legs are a little numb."

They had to use spells to get him to his feet, he couldn't get up on his own after several hours of sitting motionless.

And Henrietta, having returned to the castle, temporarily put Sirius's question aside, returning to the roses. Black could wait, but the roses could not.

Perhaps she should try crossing the Kronos rose with the glowing plant from Professor Sprout's greenhouse? If the beautiful yellow bud began to emit a gentle glow, it might be interesting. But is it possible to cross these two plants?..

With these thoughts, Anri went to get information for the future experiment.

Chapter Text

Sixth year, in Henrietta's opinion, was the best so far. She only attended the classes she liked, all the teachers were pleasant and taught well, there were no surprises like attacks on students, escaped criminals or participation in strange competitions.

The schedule became more flexible due to the reduction in the number of subjects, although the number of lessons per subject increased. Henrietta had more free time, which she spent a little rest in her dorm and playing the violin, devoting the rest of the time to the experiment under the guidance of Professor Slughorn.

Professor Sprout was happy to give Miss Potter a small plot of land - well, how "small" was that, one and a half square meters - in the far greenhouse and advise her on the glowing plant called "moonflower" and hybridization. She also allowed her to take one moonflower for the experiment. In Professor Sprout's greenhouses, to Anri's luck, the plants could bloom all year round thanks to charms and potions, so the moonflower the girl took was in almost perfect condition - by the time the owl brought a parcel from Auntie with a sapling of the Kronos rose and Henrietta, with the help of potions, grew the flower to the required state, she would have just enough time to collect the pollen and dry it, but the pollen would remain fresh.

Hogsmeade weekends, which Anri spent first with Draco and Sirius, and then with her friends at the Three Broomsticks over a cup of hot chocolate with caramel, somehow passed by, unlike traditional tea parties in the bedroom.

The bedroom itself, over the few years that they lived in it, had been transformed beyond recognition. Knitted curtains, tablecloths and napkins, woven rugs, wall and floor, translucent fabrics stretched between the high bedposts and creating a cozy, half-closed tent over the tea corner. Pillows embroidered with complex patterns, painted cups, saucers and a teapot, elegant vases with flowers on the table and windowsills. Tea in carved wooden boxes and sugar in a beautiful ceramic vase. The girls arranged their room so that it became as beautiful and cozy as possible. It was their place of rest, which they enjoyed.

The senior girls were now less likely to gather for a cup of tea during the day, busy with their own affairs, but an evening conversation in the tea tent was a must. Even if one of the girls was late, she was always expected. These conversations helped relieve tension, find solutions to problems, find out news and just have a good time.

Padma was busy with her duties as the Prefect of the House, a position she had received last year. She helped the younger years, kept order throughout the House, patrolled the corridors with the teachers, catching violators, maintained order and compliance with the rules throughout the school along with the other prefects. Sabrina, as always, was the center of gossip and news at Hogwarts, knowing everything about everyone. She received various newspapers and magazines, communicated with students of different years of all Houses, and listened attentively to everything that was said in her presence. This helped both her and her friends - for example, Padma could protect first-years from a dirty trick being prepared or stop a night foray into the Forbidden Forest for adventures, and Sabrina herself managed to maintain even relations with everyone and at the same time have some incriminating evidence on everyone in case someone decided to start a feud with her. Henrietta even felt a little sorry for Sabrina's ex-boyfriend, who, stupidly, no doubt, decided to start a relationship with another girl, without dumping Sabrina and without telling her about it. Sabrina, however, found out about it herself and taught a lesson to both the simple-minded guy, who sincerely believed in the success of his plan and the blindness of Miss Fawcett, and the girl who agreed to this, you can't say otherwise, adventure. Surprisingly, this did not scare anyone away from Sabrina herself and now many admirers looked at her with admiration and even love. Some of them, however, already had girlfriends - Miss Fawcett immediately sent them back, informing their girls about the incident. Sabrina was not a homewrecker and felt a sincere disgust for those who, while in a relationship, looked for love on the side. Lisa, on the other hand, plunged headlong into the study and creation of enchanted objects. It turned out that those same bracelets that she had woven in her first year had protective properties and could protect against some spells, not particularly strong ones, though.

And in the evenings, over a cup of hot tea and cookies, they discussed a variety of topics - from the intertwining of spells on the ceiling in the Great Hall and the possibility of crossing a semi-intelligent magical plant with an ordinary non-magical one to the political situation in the magical country on the other side of the world and the relationships of Hogwarts students, their jokes and pranks. This allowed her to not "drop out of life" and be aware of what was happening. In addition, it was not easy to get rid of the habits developed last year - Sabrina collected all the information available to her, Lisa and Anri listened to her attentively and mentally worked out ideas on how to use it, and Padma involuntarily came up with ways to arrange another nasty attack with the help of this - the latter, however, helped her avoid the traps of pranksters and catch them, since it worked in the opposite direction as well.

In the mornings, Minuet brought letters from her aunt and Victor to the Great Hall, which Henrietta tried to answer as quickly as possible. Sometimes, envelopes with Victor's letters contained small notes rather than full-fledged letters from Vasilika, which surprised Henrietta every time.

However, knowing the Oblonskys, she should have been glad that the prince himself had not started writing to her - that would have been... awkward. Aunt Petunia corresponded more with Vasilika, as she herself shared in one of her letters.

Victor was interested in her school life and education, told her about his training and education at Durmstrang - it was not for nothing that it was called an institute, they gave higher education there. Victor, when he came to Hogwarts, was only in his first year, and the direction he chose required at least five years of study. However, there was also a "junior level" in Durmstrang, where students studied from the age of eleven, as in Hogwarts, and received a secondary education. And then you could move on to the "higher level", staying in the castle for a few more years. Some students, according to Victor, remained in Durmstrang until the end of their lives, first receiving an education, and then immediately becoming teachers.

With the help of potions, the recipe for which was given by Professor Slughorn, who also supervised the preparation process, the Kronos rose grew to the required state much faster than under normal conditions, and should have been stronger and healthier due to the nourishment of magical fertilizers and potions. Carefully removing the petals and stamens, Anri applied moonflower pollen to the pistils of the rose after a few days, and then covered it with a thick bag so that no other pollen would get inside and ruin the entire experiment. It was impossible to use potions and charms to speed up the process further, so Anri carefully watched the plant, after twelve days replacing the parchment bag with gauze tightly tied around the flower.

Professor Slughorn, two weeks after the start of the experiment, which had been going quite well so far, invited her to a meeting of the Slug Club - several students in whom the professor "noticed something" and singled out others from the crowd, paying more attention to them. These were quite cozy gatherings over a cup of tea with conversations on various topics, even if not all the interlocutors were pleasant.

But the Slug Club also included familiar - more than - students. Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and... Lisa. Anri smiled to herself at the fact that Professor Slughorn, not even knowing about last year's situation - and was he really not knowing? - gathered the organizers of the Liberation Revolution in his Club.

Henrietta continued to attend Club meetings, where interesting topics were raised and opportunities for useful connections were discovered. As Draco had said in the summer, Professor Slughorn was a "celebrity collector" - he kept in touch with past members of the Slug Club who had become outstanding people and were well-disposed towards their former mentor, who, often, helped them get what they needed to take a high position. Looking closely at the current members of the Club, Anri realized that the situation was not much different now - the Slug Club included students who had influential relatives or distinguished themselves thanks to their knowledge and skills - like Lisa.

Draco soon stopped attending the Club meetings, as he became too bored. Miss Granger was also clearly bored, but she attended every tea party. Lisa sometimes missed them, carried away by her experiments - she was trying to create a robe that could turn into any other item of clothing, regardless of size and color. But Henrietta met Blaise Zabini, who turned out to be a good conversationalist. He was well versed in Potions and music, was interested in news from different countries of the wizarding world and enjoyed talking about the various plants that his mother, the famous Black Widow, who had already killed her seven husbands and seized their fortunes, grew. In fact, it was because of her, it seems, that Professor Slughorn invited Mr. Zabini to the Slug Club. Henrietta was more interested in Mr. Zabini himself as an interlocutor than in his relatives.

The experiment was going well. Anri went into the greenhouse every day, caring for the Kronos rose with moonflower pollen. She loosened the soil, watched for pests, fertilized. She collected the fruits when they had just turned yellow, cleaned them, and sowed the seeds in the ground. Now she had to carefully monitor them, feeding them with weak potions so that the plants would grow strong and healthy, revealing their full properties.

Henrietta was very worried that the experiment would fail and she would not get the desired result.

Carried away by caring for the hybrid of the Kronos rose and moonflower, Anri did not notice how time passed. Christmas was approaching. And Miss Potter realized that she could not go on vacation, abandoning her experiment.

But she and Victor had agreed to celebrate this Christmas together in the summer. Last year he came to her, but she stayed at Hogwarts. This year he was going to come too. How could she write to him that the plans were cancelled, since she would be staying at school again? She had promised him that they would spend this Christmas together.

A lady always keeps her promises.

A solution was found when Professor Slughorn invited all the members of the Slug Club to a Christmas party that would be held before leaving for the holidays, to which Professor Slughorn's former students would be invited.

"Professor, thank you for the invitation," Henrietta approached him with a soft, slightly awkward smile. "Excuse me, but could I invite my friend to your Christmas party as my chaperone? I won't be able to leave for the holidays because of the experiment, so, unfortunately, I won't be able to meet him during the holidays..."

"Oh, Henrietta," Slughorn smiled kindly, "of course. I would be glad to see you and your chaperone at my party. I am even more pleased that this will allow you to meet your friend, who is obviously very dear to you," the professor looked at her slyly, as if he knew something that she was carefully hiding.

“Thank you, sir,” Henrietta smiled a little wider, getting ready to leave to write a letter to Victor.

"Henrietta," the professor called out to her, "have the hybrid sprouts sprouted yet?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, turning around. "I think the first buds will appear in a month and a half or two."

"Wonderful," the man sat down comfortably in the chair, taking out a jar of his favorite candied pineapples. "That means that in two months we will be able to evaluate how successful the experiment was."

After saying goodbye to the professor, Anri ran off to write to Victor. And to her aunt - she needed to apologize to her, this was the third Christmas Anri had not celebrated at home.

Victor was sympathetic to Henrietta's situation because of the experiment and wrote that he would arrive in Hogsmeade on the day of the Christmas party. Auntie, although displeased, forgave her niece for not being home on Christmas. Preparations for the Christmas party began, which even Draco promised to attend, appreciating the opportunity to establish connections with influential adult wizards.

Anri thought about her dress for the party and carefully fed the hybrid sprouts. Remembering Aunt Petunia's words about how plants love it when you talk to them or sing to them, the girl even brought her violin to the greenhouse a couple of times, playing for her experiment. The other plants, however, were not against it either - the poisonous tentacle quite happily tapped its pods in time, and the trembling bushes danced, and Anri, it seems, even noticed small buds on them, which she immediately reported to Professor Sprout, since flowers appeared on them only once a century. Moreover, according to Professor Sprout, they bloomed thirty or forty years ago for the last time. It seems that Henrietta accidentally found a way to make them bloom more often.

Her friends and, quite unexpectedly, Sirius Black helped her a lot with the preparations for the party. When he found out about the Christmas party Henrietta was going to, he gave her a beautiful gold hair comb decorated with pearls and small diamonds at their next meeting. However, Anri found out about this only in her bedroom, when she opened a small box tied with a ribbon. The decoration, of course, was checked for all sorts of spells, potions and curses with the help of her friends. Protective charms against theft, cleansing charms that could, for example, save a dress from spilled punch, weak beauty charms that gave hair shine and a little glow.

Sirius Black received a sincere letter of gratitude and a wish for a Merry Christmas. On the holiday itself, a council arranged over a cup of tea decided to send the man a box of the most delicious cakes that the girls simply adored.

Lisa had just finished her experiment; the robes could take on any appearance with the help of simple charms and retain it for a long time. However, the charms were only needed to give the clothes a certain appearance - the robes themselves could become jeans or a T-shirt of any color after the code words. Padma took care of the hair, and Sabrina - a little makeup and choosing jewelry. Henrietta refused to take jewelry from her friends, limiting herself to a comb from Sirius and pearl earrings that her aunt and uncle gave her for her birthday.

Having run away to the greenhouse for the last time to check her hybrid plant, Anri returned to the bedroom, where her angry friends were already waiting for her.

“Only two hours until the start, and our hair is not done yet, our makeup is not on, our dresses are barely ready… But cleanse your skin! Even out your skin tone and apply eyeshadow! And lipstick!.. We still have to meet Victor and see him off, and we need to come early. Your flower wouldn’t run away anywhere, unlike your boyfriend…” Sabrina grumbled, sitting Henrietta down on the bed with a sharp movement and wiping her face with a cleansing solution.

A giggling Padma settled down behind her, starting to do her hair. Liza was lying on the bed opposite with some kind of cream on her face and cucumbers on her eyes.

“Sabrina read that it’s good for the skin, now she’s experimenting on Liza,” Padma whispered in her ear, still giggling.

"Very tasty, by the way," Lisa replied, eating a piece of cucumber.

With a quick wave of her wand, Sabrina dropped another piece of cucumber on Lisa's eyes, and another one straight into her mouth, so that her friend would stop eating her mask.

Hair pulled back into a beautiful hairstyle with a comb from Sirius, a couple of curly strands of which fell on the sides of the face, a beautiful turquoise floor-length dress with lace sleeves, simple makeup with brown eyeshadow, with which Lisa made Henrietta's eyes become even greener, although, it would seem, where else could they be greener.

Anri was pleased with her appearance. Beautiful, neat, not defiant and even comfortable. Lisa, meticulously examining her blue dress, adjusting the embroidery and decorative elements on it, spun around, risking the collapse of the crown of light hair, which is why Padma hissed at her from her bed, holding her wand at the ready to catch the crumbling hairstyle in time.

"Don't spin around like that!" she jumped up to Liza, securing her hair with a few more pins. "Move your head carefully, or you'll turn into a shaggy witch."

To the cheerful laughter of Sabrina, who had calmed down after doing her part of the job and was now watching the irritated Padma, Anri threw her robe over her shoulders and left the bedroom to meet Victor.

Already walking along the snowy path to Hogsmeade, Henrietta had the idea that she should ask Padma or Sabrina to meet Victor, but no.

Ladies meet their guests themselves.

Victor did not stand still and went straight from Hogsmeade to the castle, so they met halfway. But instead of saying something, even a simple "hello", Victor frowned and, turning Henrietta around, hurried with her to Hogwarts. And only after going inside and cleaning her robe from the snow, he finally spoke.

"Why did you come out in a dress? You'll catch a cold," he sighed and unbuttoned his cloak, making it smaller and carefully folding it into his trouser pocket.

Victor was wearing a simple beige suit with a black turtleneck instead of a shirt. And Henrietta couldn't help but think that she wasn't the only one who was helping her get ready. It was unlikely to be Vasilika, but rather advice from Prince Oblonsky.

"Thank you for your concern," Henrietta smiled. "Can we go to Ravenclaw Tower? I'll leave my robe."

"Of course," Victor nodded. "It's good to see you, Etta," he said belatedly, smiling.

"It's good to see you too, Victor," Anri carefully took his hand, heading towards the tower.

Victor waited for her at the entrance to the living room while she went into the bedroom and left her robe, making sure she looked good one last time. Lisa, having sorted out her dress, went out with her.

Professor Slughorn already had many guests, among whom Henrietta with some difficulty found some acquaintances - Draco, Hermione and Mr. Zabini. Taking Viktor by the arm, Anri slowly walked towards Professor Slughorn. Viktor straightened up before entering the room, straightening his shoulders, which had been slightly hunched until then, and now looked confident and unwavering.

"Good evening, Professor," Henrietta smiled softly.

"Henrietta!" the man exclaimed joyfully, slightly clasping his hands. "I am very glad to see you. And your companion, of course," he looked curiously at Miss Potter's escort.

"Professor, allow me to introduce you to Viktor Krum. I think you may have heard of him as the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament. Viktor, this is Professor Horace Slughorn, the host of this evening."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor," Viktor bowed his head slightly.

"And I am so pleased, Mr. Krum!" Slughorn replied enthusiastically. "The champion of the Triwizard Tournament, the best Seeker in the world, one of the best students at Durmstrang - I never thought that such a person as you, young man, would visit my modest party. Apparently, I have Henrietta to thank for such a pleasant surprise?" He cast a sly glance at Miss Potter, smiling. "Oh, Eldred!" He called out to a man passing by. "Allow me to introduce you to Eldred Worple, my former student, the author of ‘Blood Brothers: My Life Among the Vampires’, and, of course, his friend Sanguini."

Henrietta looked at Mr. Sanguini with interest, but not openly. He was tall, emaciated, with dark circles under his eyes. There was not a shadow of interest on his face, only immense boredom.

"Viktor Krum-Oblonsky," Victor suddenly extended his hand, quietly introducing himself.

Henrietta looked at him in surprise, hearing him call himself by his uncle's surname for the first time, even if it was doubled with his father's. It seemed he had said something earlier about having the right to this surname. But, as far as Anri knew, Victor did not like to take advantage of the position of Prince Oblonsky's nephew and usually did not advertise their relationship.

An interest awoke in the eyes of the vampire, which Mr. Sanguini undoubtedly was. And not at all the kind one would expect from a vampire.

"Carmine Sanguini, giovane principe," he shook Victor's hand, slightly twitching the corner of his lips in a smile, showing a long fang.

A few girls standing nearby and looking at Mr. Sanguini with interest squealed. But Lisa, who had come up, bowed her head, looking at the vampire with curiosity.

"Are you from Italy?" asked Victor.

"Yes, from Florence. And you, if I understand correctly, from Varna? How is re generoso Stefan's health?"

A conversation started between them, to which Lisa openly listened, sometimes asking questions. Henrietta, slightly squeezing Victor's hand and smiling briefly at him, walked away, leaving them talking.

She was standing next to Draco, talking to him, when she heard Lisa's mocking voice.

"Don't be so jealous, he's her teacup friend."

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise, looking at Anri, and pointed at himself. Turning around, Henrietta saw a frowning Victor, next to whom, arm in arm with Sanguini, was a laughing Lisa. There was also a slight smile on the vampire's lips.

"Oh, don't be offended, Malfoy, you're not Anri's only tea friend," Lisa said in a feigned sympathy voice, but with a bright smile on her face. "There are also Padma, Sabrina and me. But when we're busy, of course, you can join her."

"You're as amazingly poisonous as ever, Turpin," Draco flashed a smile. "It must be hard for you in Ravenclaw - I heard that eagles eat snakes."

"Well, unlike you, I'm an eagle," Lisa raised her eyebrows, still smiling with the same feigned bloodthirstiness.

Mr. Sanguini looked at the girl with interest, raising an eyebrow.

Approaching Victor and taking his arm again, Anri allowed herself to lean her head back slightly on his shoulder. Watching Liza and Draco's playful exchange of poison was surprisingly fun and interesting. She didn't want to laugh out loud, of course, God forbid, ladies don't laugh out loud, she didn't want to interfere, but standing there and watching... Anri felt at peace.

The evening passed in a cozy atmosphere. Professor Slughorn introduced her to his former students, some of whom approached Victor with admiring glances. A couple of times, unpleasant spells flew at her from the side, thanks to which she was able to appreciate Sirius's gift - the comb took the nasty spells, protecting its owner. Lisa did not move away from Sanguini during the entire evening, who, however, had no objections. She enthusiastically communicated with the professor's former students, having managed to demonstrate a couple of her experiments that she took with her. Victor sometimes sighed almost inaudibly with displeasure, throwing sidelong glances at the group of admiring girls, who squealed at each such glance.

"Където и да отидеш, винаги ще има ловци на глави…" he muttered, hugging Henrietta by the waist.

"The less you look at them, the less they will think that you are interested in them," Anri said quietly, without removing the smile from her lips.

"Maybe then I will only look at you?" Victor asked with a grin, leading her to the table with snacks.

"Then I will think that you are interested in me," Anri answered with the same polite smile, carefully taking a canapé with red fish and cucumber by the skewer from the plate.

"And you think that you are not interesting?" Victor intercepted her hand, looking straight into her eyes.

"You look at me too often to think so," Anri's smile grew wider.

Victor pulled her hand towards him, carefully wrapping his lips around the canape and pulling it off the skewer. He straightened up, smiling contentedly.

"I hope that the generous sir will allow his lady to eat today?" Henrietta raised her eyebrows when Victor ate the second canapé, so to speak, from her hands.

With a twitch of the corner of his lips, the guy grabbed the plate with canapés and dragged Anri into a corner hidden behind several translucent curtains.

Henrietta could only hope that the journalists present at this evening were currently busy with someone else and at least this time, as an exception, their photo would not appear on the front page of tomorrow's newspaper.

After all, the readers of the "Daily Prophet" had to get tired of watching a kissing couple? Even if it was the conqueror of the Dark Lord Henrietta Potter and the best Seeker in the world, the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament Viktor Krum.

Chapter Text

Henrietta looked worriedly at the house elf hovering around her hybrid. There was a strange expression in his eyes, like a spark of madness. But Miss Potter was worried not because of the elf's presence, but because he could harm her plant.

"Ahem," Anri coughed softly into her fist, attracting the creature's attention. "Could you please step away from the plant?"

"Oh, young miss!" the elf turned around enthusiastically and was next to her in an instant. "There were pests approaching the flower, Dobby drove the pests away."

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Dobby," Henrietta replied with a strained smile, looking at him warily and casting worried glances at her experiment.

"The young miss saved the family from shame, it is an honor for Dobby to help the young miss!" he proudly raised his head, flapping his ears. "And the young miss did not harm the last member of the family, Dobby worried in vain."

And now she was standing in front of a strange elf who was saying strange things. It seemed that just a little more and Anri would begin to understand Aunt Petunia and her dislike of strangeness.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about,” Anri crossed her wrists, the fingers of her left hand touching the tip of the magic wand hidden in her right sleeve.

The spark of madness in the creature’s eyes grew brighter. Dobby bowed his head, his eyes absolutely empty, except for the spark of madness, looking at her. Henrietta glanced at the cloth he was wrapped in - there was no identifying mark on it.

Even Hogwarts elves wear towels with the school crest. Other elves are supposed to wear, if not the crest of the family they serve, then at least a monogram. Dobby’s clothes - it seemed to be a pillowcase - were dirty and tattered, but there was not even a hint of the family he served.

The elf smiled widely, looking intently with huge eyes at Henrietta, who felt uneasy about this whole situation. Now she could have been walking around Hogsmeade with Victor, who had stayed for the winter holidays, but she decided to go check out the experiment before that.

“When the young mistress ran away, the elder master sent Dobby to look for her,” the elf began to tell. His voice acquired an ominous note, which made Henrietta feel a little uneasy. “Dobby did not find the young mistress, but he did find the young mistress’s half-blood son. Dobby continued to watch the young mistress’s half-blood son until the old wizard came for the little half-blood. The little half-blood went to school, Dobby followed. Dobby hoped that the young mistress’s half-blood son would save the family and return the lineage to greatness, but…” In addition to madness, hatred appeared in the creature’s eyes. “The half-blood shame of the family killed the young master. The old master died of grief. The shame destroyed the family. Dobby is a loyal elf, Dobby must serve his lineage to the end. Dobby cannot allow harm to come to the shameful heir,” he grimaced with contempt. "But Dobby didn't keep an eye on it. The shameful heir disappeared after meeting the young miss. Dobby grieved and hid in the large house of the shameful heir's servants. And then Dobby heard that very name. Harry Potter."

Anri suppressed a groan of resignation. Harry Potter again! Yes, Henrietta certainly hated the name Harry.

"Dobby thought Harry Potter would try to harm the shameful heir. Dobby would have liked to throw him down the stairs himself," the elf muttered the last part under his breath, adding a couple of insults. "Dobby heard Harry Potter's name at the entrance to platform nine and three-quarters. Dobby thought Harry Potter was a loud red-haired boy. But Mr. Harry Potter turned out to be Miss Henrietta Potter," his gaze cleared for a moment and became serious and attentive when the elf looked at Henrietta. "The young miss did not try to harm the shameful heir, did not even pay attention to the old wizard's attempts to tell about the shameful heir, did not listen to the old wizard. When the shameful heir from the past returned, the young miss did not even look at the enemy. The shameful heir was taken away by the Great Serpent. "The young miss prevented the shameful heir from further shaming the line fifteen years ago and did not try to destroy the line's shame after. Dobby hates the shameful heir, but is grateful to the young miss for saving the life of the last of the line."

The elf bowed his head low, putting his hand to his heart. Anri froze like a statue, not knowing how to react to all this.

"Dobby wanted to glorify the young miss's name among wizards as a token of gratitude, Dobby was going to put the young miss's name in the Goblet of Fire, but the young miss's name had already been put in by the fake teacher. Dobby didn't like the fake teacher, Dobby began to follow the fake teacher. When the young miss went into the labyrinth, the fake teacher wanted to bewitch the young miss's foreign friend, but Dobby did not allow it. Dobby dealt with the fake teacher, the young miss can no longer worry about the fake teacher. Dobby wanted to serve the young miss, the young miss had the spirit of the family," his eyes flashed steel. "After visiting another country, Dobby stopped feeling the spirit of the family in the young miss, but Dobby still feels something more ancient. In the young miss, there is nothing of the family that Dobby serves, but there is something of those who were before Dobby's family. Dobby was surprised by this, Dobby began to search ..."

When the elf disappeared for a moment, and then returned with some cloth in his hands, Henrietta grabbed her wand tightly, preparing to defend herself. And although the creature in front of her spoke of his friendly attitude towards her, this elf was clearly not in his right mind. The books said that house elves gradually adopt the traits of their owners, and if the family is on the verge of extinction, then they can even begin to go crazy. Judging by what Anri sees, Dobby's owners have been unhealthy themselves for several generations, influencing the elf, and after the events of fifteen years ago, he himself began to go crazy.

"Dobby found an ancient treasure in the old wizard's office," the elf held out his hands with a cloth that shimmered with silver. "Ancient treasure belonged to those who were before, ancient treasure belongs to the young miss. Dobby took the ancient treasure to return the inheritance to the young miss."

Carefully, not trusting Dobby, Henrietta took the cloth from his hands, straightening it out. A silver robe, in which, except for the color, Anri did not see anything special. Having carefully folded it into a bag, Anri decided to check it later and show it to Lisa.

"Thank you, Mister Dobby," Anri nodded.

"Dobby is happy that he could help the young miss!" He broke into a smile, his huge ears twitching. "If the young miss needs help, the young miss can always call Dobby!"

"I'll take that into account, Mr. Dobby," Anri smiled politely. "But could you please not come near that flower again?" She tried to tactfully send him away so that he would not come near her experiment again.

"As young miss wish," Dobby bowed his head and, flashing his crazy eyes one last time, disappeared.

Anri hurried to Hogsmeade to Victor, where she told him everything. A crazy house elf is a very dangerous and unpredictable creature.

"He won't touch you, Etta," Victor shook his head, hugging her and soothingly stroking her shoulder. "He feels something in you from the family he serves, so he won't touch you. You can become his new mistress, but you shouldn't."

Anri nodded in agreement and laid her head on Victor's shoulder, enjoying his embrace.

For Christmas, Henrietta gave Victor the same bottle of Lucky Potion that she had received from Professor Slughorn during their first lesson. In return, she received a beautiful jade ring with a carved floral pattern. They spent Christmas at the Three Broomsticks in a corner hidden behind thick pine branches under the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling, holding mugs of hot chocolate.

Anri can't say that it was the best Christmas, but it was definitely the coziest. And Victor also wore a Christmas hat that Anri had conjured for him. That evening, she smiled a lot and even laughed quietly, covering her lips with her hand. Victor relaxed and looked contented and peaceful, a pleasant smile never leaving his lips.

After seeing Victor off at the end of the Christmas holidays, Henrietta returned to school life and carefully observing the experiment. It was necessary to loosen and weed the soil, drive away pests, fertilize, feed the plant with potions, monitor its development, making timely adjustments.

Time flew by in worries. Lessons, meetings with Sirius on weekends, tea parties with friends, meetings of the Slug Club, correspondence with Auntie and Victor, helping Professor Sprout in the greenhouses, reading in the library, playing the violin in the bedroom.

In March, the first bud of the experimental plant blossomed. Golden-yellow petals emitted a soft glow and sparkled, as if they were covered with small diamond dust. Professor Slughorn squinted contentedly.

“What will you name your variety?” he looked at Henrietta, whose eyes were filled with delight and tenderness.

“I think the Helios rose is quite a suitable name for a flower that shines with sunlight,” Anri smiled softly, carefully running her finger along a delicate petal.

A little of that same “diamond dust” remained on her finger, slightly shining with a golden light.

Anri carefully watched the Helios rose, writing down everything from its appearance and smell to its reaction to potions and charms. For example, the bud did not respond to invisibility charms, as well as to a potion with the same properties, unlike the stem and leaves.

Together with Professor Slughorn and Professor Snape, who unexpectedly joined, Henrietta found out the usefulness of the new plant in Potions. Every day after classes, she came to the Potions room, where she experimented with two professors. Fortunately, quite a lot of roses grew from seeds and they all continued to bloom, so there was something to work with.

Anri also liked just sitting with a book near the sunny roses. The pleasant light relaxed and gave a feeling of coziness. Anri even took one of the blooming roses to the bedroom, putting it in a vase on the tea table. Her friends were delighted.

Professor Snape managed to brew a potion using the petals of the Helios rose, which made everything it fell on shine with sunlight. One drop of this potion was enough to turn an inkwell into a small sun for half an hour. The magical properties of the Helios rose were similar to those of the moonflower, but the light was golden sunlight, not silvery moonlight, and the light lasted for a shorter period of time. In their free time, potion makers tried to replace the regular rose and moonflower in potions with the Helios rose, Anri studied and took care of the plant. She took the fruits when they turned yellow - however, she gave one to the professors for research.

Some students who were interested in Herbology and loved plants, when they learned about the new variety of roses bred in the Hogwarts greenhouse, asked for seeds or cuttings. Henrietta sent one fruit with seeds to Vasilika.

The year ended calmly and successfully, Professor Slughorn was pleased and promised to introduce her to magizoologists and botanists, specialists in breeding magical plants, the following year. With Anri's permission, the professors wrote several articles for specialized journals - about the appearance of a hybrid of a rose and a moonflower, about its use in potions.

Of course, it was still too early to talk about the Helios rose as a full-fledged variety - several generations had to grow up so that it would be possible to learn about the flowering time, frost resistance, susceptibility to various diseases, study the properties and methods of application. But Henrietta was already happy - this successful experiment gave her hope that she would be able to continue breeding roses, making it her profession.

Anri took several roses under the spell of stasis with her when she went on vacation. Aunt Petunia even shed a tear, looking with pride at her niece and the beautiful sunny rose that she had bred.

It was nice to come home. And even loud Dudley, expressing himself in an uncultured manner, did not irritate her. Anri simply ignored his words. Even Aunt Petunia could explain that it was rude and impolite to speak like that. So Anri simply smiled and went into the kitchen to the rising dough or outside to the rose bushes.

A few days after her arrival, when Henrietta was tending the roses, a large black dog ran up to her and nuzzled her side.

A very familiar black dog.

Smiling affectionately, Anri ran her fingers over his head between his ears, lightly running her fingers through the thick fur.

“Long time no see, Wanderer, glad to see you,” she greeted Sirius quietly.

Henrietta didn’t think the nickname “Wanderer” was pretty, but she couldn’t disagree with its appropriateness – Sirius really did wander where he wanted, and even his strict sister didn’t stop him.

During the time they spent together in Hogsmeade, Anri began to trust Sirius. He was emotional and impulsive, hot-tempered and energetic. He loved to joke and play pranks, not always funny, but he calmed down a little around Henrietta, tried to control himself so as not to push her away with his behavior. He was interested in her life and was genuinely worried, caring. If there was one thing Sirius could not be accused of, it was insincerity. Whatever he did, it was from the heart, even if sometimes directed in the right direction by the instructions of Narcissa Malfoy.

Wanderer just lay nearby and basked in the sun, scaring away the neighbors' cats at the same time, while Anri was busy with roses. He liked to watch his goddaughter absorbed in her favorite activity. However, he tried not to catch Petunia's eye - her reaction to the dog on the site was extremely negative.

In mid-July, Anri, who was almost seventeen, went to the Ministry of Magic to move to Bulgaria. This time without her aunt.

But with Sirius.

Every time Henrietta remembers Sirius's hysteria about "I'll go with you to Bulgaria and this is not discussed", she starts to get a headache. After two hours of useless conversation, she just nodded tiredly, giving up. And she began to think about how to drag the still, for a minute, wanted criminal into the Ministry of Magic in order to move by portal to Bulgaria.

Honestly, Anri thought it would have been easier to turn to Narcissa Malfoy - she would have either made her brother stay in England or solved the problem with the portal. For one brief moment, an unworthy thought flashed through her mind that she shouldn't have sent the Patronus to Black. She was immediately choked by a mountain of thoughts about Sirius - a sincerely caring, adequate - according to Draco - a person, and a weighty argument "against" in the form of Draco, who was nearby at that moment, who was also threatened by dementors. The thought was suppressed and forgotten, and Henrietta returned to the problem of Sirius's semi-legal exit.

She tactfully omitted the fact that at the moment any movement of Black was illegal in England. Mr. Malfoy, of course, was working on an excuse for his wife's cousin, but there were difficulties with this, so Sirius still walked around with the status of "outlaw".

The solution came when Anri was tidying up her school uniform. In the chest, right under the uniform, lay a folded silver robe that Dobby had given her. How she and her friends had figured out, it was a perfect invisibility cloak, unaffected by most spells and simple revealing artifacts — where Lisa got those glasses from remained a mystery.

Having wrapped Sirius in the cloak and asked him not to go far, Henrietta took the tried and tested route - take the train to London, walk to the Leaky Cauldron bar, and then Floo to the Atrium - and headed to the Ministry, where she was given a Portkey to Bulgaria.

Everything was going well until they were transported to a familiar corner in Sofia, where Victor was waiting for her.

"And who is this fop?" Sirius asked rudely, taking off his cloak.

Victor tensed up. His back straightened, his shoulders squared, and his head dropped a little. The guy frowned at the man who had suddenly appeared from under his thick eyebrows. His hand instinctively reached for his wand to protect himself.

Henrietta couldn't help but sigh wearily. Yes, that was to be expected. She hadn't told Sirius about Victor - that was the last thing she needed - and had hoped for his prudence and understanding of the situation. In vain, as it turned out.

"Good afternoon, Victor," she tried to smile to smooth things over. "I apologize for such an unexpected surprise. Allow me to introduce you to my godfather Sirius Black. Sirius, this is Viktor Krum," Anri approached Sirius, gently pulling him closer by the hand - Victor tensed up even more - and quietly, without removing her smile, almost whispered. "And I strongly ask you not to use such words towards him. Please."

Sirius snorted in irritation.

Smiling sincerely, Anri approached Victor and, surprising him, rose on her toes, touching her lips to his cheek. The boy immediately returned the kiss, touching her soft lips instead of her cheek. A sideways glance at Sirius allowed him to see the expression of extreme displeasure on Black's face.

"Welcome, Etta," Victor smiled, hugging Henrietta.

"So," Sirius intervened enthusiastically in a deliberately cheerful voice, getting between them, "where are we going?"

"Ще отидеш при чичо ми, за да му обясниш незаконното си пристигане в България, а аз ще заведа приятелката си в зоологическата градина," Victor said in a rude tone, looking gloomily at Sirius.

Walking between the arguing Sirius and Victor, lightning bolts flying between them, smoothly avoiding Henrietta herself, Anri regretted not leaving "Uncle Siri" in England. A thought came to her, a very sensible one, that it would be much easier to listen to his indignation after returning to England than to try to smooth out the atmosphere between him and Victor for the entire month that they would spend here.

Henrietta's sixth year passed quietly and peacefully, delighting with calm and a successful experiment. The summer after it was in no hurry to delight with such things...

Chapter Text

Silently stirring sugar in a cup of tea with a teaspoon, Henrietta tried to detach herself from what was happening around her. Thoughts arose, however, to remind everyone that today was, in fact, her birthday, a joyful and happy day, in theory, when she became an adult according to the laws of wizards. However, this would most likely not mean anything to the heated adults in such a state.

Victor sat nearby, gloomily glancing from time to time at the clock. He definitely did not like what was happening and wanted to leave with Anri as soon as possible, but it was necessary to wait for the arrival of at least one reasonable adult wizard who would not allow the others to cripple each other to a critical state and, in the process, destroy the house.

In general, from the very beginning, all this did not bode well. But if Henrietta thought that her main problem this summer would be the tense relationship between Victor and Sirius, then she was deeply mistaken.

Victor, no matter how displeased he was, did not support Sirius' attempts to pick a fight. The most he allowed himself to do was snap back, and that, for the most part, in Bulgarian, which Sirius did not understand. Anri smiled gratefully at Victor, walking arm in arm with him and trying to ask Sirius with her eyes to behave more calmly.

Sirius ignored the hints. He did not like Victor already because he was next to his goddaughter. And the fact that she allowed him to kiss her caused Black to be wildly furious towards the guy and a desire to curse him with something.

Anri mentally promised herself not to take Sirius anywhere with her anymore. In vain she gave in.

But the worst was yet to come - when Black, not without the help of Henrietta's diplomatic skills, was forgiven for illegally moving to Bulgaria through the official portal, and they headed to Varna to the Krum’s house.

The lightning between Victor and Sirius was just a weak spark compared to what was happening between Sirius and Vasilika. As Radko Krum aptly put it on the first evening - two troublemakers found each other.

But after two days, Sirius managed to get him mad too. Reacting to Black's incorrect remark towards Vasilika, Radko hit Sirius without further ado, starting a fight. Victor quickly took Henrietta out, not allowing her to watch this, there is no other way to describe it, brawl.

At dinner that day, both men grinned at each other, and Vasilika loudly scolded them, expressing her displeasure to Sirius personally. Black responded in kind, dissatisfied with everything from Victor's presence next to Henrietta and Vasilika's character to the amount of salt in the food and the interior of the house.

"Maybe we should really organize a war with England?.." Vasilika muttered. "Or just hand this луд задник over to the English? He's an outlaw there, I think..."

Anri, however, was increasingly wanting to go back to England so as not to hear Vasilika and Sirius's constant swearing. And now...

"You didn't raise your puppy - and you're the same! I'll tear his paws off next time!"

"What my son does is none of your business, you lousy mongrel! You can get out of the country if you're not happy with something!"

"Or maybe it would be better if I burned you and your house down?"         

And this went on for the second or third hour. Even Vasilika and Sirius couldn't remember why they had locked tongues. It seemed that Sirius had seen Victor hugging Anri, started swearing at him, and Vasilika had stood up for her son. Or had Sirius not liked breakfast? Or had Vasilika not been thrilled with Black's "jokes"?..

In any case, Henrietta was already terribly tired of all this. She wasn't particularly attached to her birthday, but now she was so disgusted by what was happening around her on this day that she realized how much she really liked the holidays with the Dursleys, fun and family-like, without quarrels and scandals.

"I can't let that bastard be around the baby!"

Barely restraining herself from losing her composure, Henrietta stood up abruptly, slamming her cup down on the table, and walked quickly out of the house, deciding to get some fresh air outside and calm down. She had stopped trying to calm Sirius down and make him shut up a week ago, realizing how hopeless it was.

Sitting down on a bench in the garden, she breathed deeply, trying to think about something good. Clear skies, roses all around, her birthday…

It didn’t work. Her thoughts returned to the people arguing in the house. Why couldn’t Sirius behave normally? He had already managed to drive everyone crazy – Victor’s hands clenched into fists just when he appeared. Only Prince Oblonsky could make Sirius calm down a bit without showing his anger.

“I remember I promised you a library replenishment,” Victor’s voice came from behind. “Would you like to go to the book fair? And then we can listen to the street musicians in Seaside Park and walk to the port. I know a few good places where you can buy something beautiful. What do you think?” He sat down next to her, hunched over and trying to look into her eyes.

Blinking to finally drive away the tears of hurt and helplessness that were about to come, Anri took a deep breath and smiled at Victor.

"I think it's a wonderful idea."

Walking slowly next to Victor along the streets of Varna, enjoying the bright sun and greenery, leisurely looking through books in the shops and trying to talk to the sellers in her clumsy Bulgarian, Henrietta felt how the tension and irritation were leaving her. Victor helped her with a kind smile, paying for her purchases, although she tried to stop him - she had money herself. But all the non-persistent objections - a lady should not show strong pressure - were broken by the argument "today is your birthday."

She nipped the sarcastic "Oh really? And I thought I was the only one who remembered that, judging by your mother and Sirius!" in the bud. Well, what could she do, not all birthdays are perfect. And judging by what was happening now, she was incredibly lucky that she could just calmly stroll with Victor on hers.

"I get money for my flights, I need to spend it on something, right?" Victor noted ironically, catching Anri's displeased look when he paid for a book in one of the tents.

"I thought that a lot of money was spent on maintaining a broom and a uniform for athletes," Anri said distantly.

"Do you really think they let me take care of this myself?" Victor chuckled. "I can't even go into a broom shop without people finding out about it right away. I once tried to buy knee pads with my pocket money - the seller refused to take my money."

Perhaps it was... unpleasant. If she had found herself in a similar situation, Henrietta would probably have reduced her purchases to the necessary minimum. When you are deprived of independence even at such an adult age - it cannot but upset.

Having lost the mood to look at books, Anri led Victor towards the Seaside Park. She liked this place - beautiful, spacious, fresh air and street musicians. The park area was incredibly large, so it was interesting to walk there every time - there was always something new.

Entertained by the musician's play, Henrietta did not notice how Victor threw his jacket on the lawn, sitting down himself and pulling Anri along with him. The girl leaned back on him, enjoying the music. The sun, the greenery, the pleasant music - her mood was rapidly improving, the day was getting better and better. And after the waffle cone of creamy ice cream with a spoon that Victor brought, life became completely beautiful and carefree.

She did not want to leave. To sit in Victor's arms in a beautiful place and enjoy the music, inhaling the pleasant aroma of flowers - what could be better? But the musician was getting ready to go home, and Anri felt that it had already gotten colder. The sun was sinking towards the horizon.

Having thoroughly shaken off the grass from his jacket, Victor threw it over Henrietta's shoulders and, taking the girl by the hand, slowly walked on. Anri held the jacket with her hand, following Victor with a smile.

They continued walking along the streets, but this time instead of books on the shelves there were various treats, souvenirs and jewelry. The couple approached the shelves, examining the goods. Victor offered to buy something at almost every shop, but Henrietta refused, just looking.

“Etta, I’m trying to buy you a gift, but you keep refusing,” Victor chuckled, hugging the girl by the shoulders.

“Can’t books be considered a gift?” Anri raised her eyebrows.

“Something special,” Victor shook his head.

And he led her to a shop with costume jewelry. Anri suspects that he would have taken her to a jewelry store if she hadn’t started objecting to spending money earlier in the day. Anri didn’t see anything “special” on the street stalls, as Victor wanted. Victor didn’t show it, but Henrietta felt that he was getting upset.

But passing by one not very noticeable shop, Anri stopped, smelling a familiar scent. She closed her eyes, sniffing, and came closer. Something on the counter smelled of roses. Not the chemical smell of roses that you could find in air fresheners in the ordinary world, but the smell of a real rose.

The seller began to speak something fluently in Bulgarian, which Anri could not understand at all. But she did not really need it. She looked closely at the goods, trying to understand what was giving off such a strong rose scent.

“They sell rose oil here,” Victor explained, standing behind her. “Rose candles, perfume, rose petal jam.”

Anri’s eyebrows involuntarily rose slightly at the words about jam, but she did not turn around, continuing to look for something that would catch her eye. And she found it.

A small teardrop-shaped glass bottle filled with a transparent golden liquid. A chain was attached to the cork, by which you could hang the bottle around your neck.

“Do I understand correctly that this bottle contains rose oil?” Anri asked, carefully taking the pendant in her hands, immediately receiving confirmation of her correctness. “Can we take this pendant?” she turned to Victor.

The guy smiled, nodding. And then he himself fastened the chain on Henrietta’s neck, fleetingly touching the back of her neck with his lips. The girl maintained an outward composure, but pleasant goosebumps ran down her spine.

Slowly walking back, the couple watched the sunset. Lights gradually lit up in the shop windows, the terraces of the cafes covered with garlands began to glow. She did not want to go into the house where Vasilika and Sirius had recently argued.

Surprisingly, the house was quiet, only something was sizzling in the kitchen and the sound of a knife on a cutting board could be heard. Vasilika was preparing dinner, and Sirius was sitting at the table next to her and, to Anri's pleasant surprise, was not paying attention to the woman, peacefully playing cards with Radko. The prince was found reading in the living room.

Quietly, so as not to disturb the peaceful calm that had finally formed, Victor and Anri went into the room that had been allocated to Henrietta to sort out the purchases. The books were laid out on the shelves, the cute hairpins that Victor had bought were placed on the bedside table.

"How are you going to use the oil?" Victor asked, sitting down next to Anri on the bed.

Smiling, Anri opened the bottle and, dropping a little on her finger, applied the oil to her neck, rubbing it in with soft circular movements. Victor leaned over, inhaling the delicate scent of roses.

"Nice. It suits you,” he looked into her eyes without moving away.

Victor leaned closer to Anri, almost touching her lips, when the door creaked open. Sirius was standing in the doorway. Surprisingly, he didn’t react in any way to the guy almost kissing his goddaughter, only leaning his shoulder against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Youth and all that, I understand,” he grinned. “But I’d like to talk to Henrietta. Alone.”

Victor, with the corner of his lips twitching in displeasure, stood up, briefly kissing Anri on the top of her head, and left. And he didn’t even touch Sirius, although Anri thought for a moment that he wanted to push him with his shoulder, but no. Sirius chuckled contentedly and went in, closing the door behind him.

“Sorry for my disgusting behavior, baby, but I’m worried about you,” he smiled awkwardly, sitting down next to her, where Victor had been a moment ago.

Only now, when Sirius was so close, Henrietta noticed the bruise on his face. She raised her eyebrows in surprise. Was it possible that the house was so quiet because Sirius had calmed down after the fight with Mr. Krum?

"Are you insulting Victor out of concern too?" Anri asked, returning to the conversation.

"Yes," Sirius nodded, running his finger over the bruise and wincing. "Many people are too self-controlled to see their true nature. But if you get them mad, make them lose control..." he grinned. "I wanted to know what kind of guy this Victor of yours is."

"And you insulted Mrs. Krum too, to find out about Victor?"

"About his family too," the grin turned into a smile. "I would have stopped this whole circus a long time ago if the kid hadn't controlled himself so well. His parents are good people, I understood that almost immediately from the woman's screams," he grinned cheerfully. "And her husband, too, rushed to defend his wife right away."

"I hope you didn't provoke the prince," Anri narrowed her eyes, looking at him suspiciously.

"Oh, no, I've already been to prison, I don't want to go back yet," Sirius chuckled. "But the boy held out for a long time, he didn't even come out to defend his mother, he just gritted his teeth and looked at you sideways - although you don't need to defend someone like that, she'll beat anyone she wants with a ladle," he shuddered. "And today he snapped. As soon as you ran away, he hit me. ‘Your behavior hurts Etta,’ I think he said? He's got a good punch, by the way."

Henrietta looked at Sirius in surprise. So it was Victor who painted him like that? For her? She sighed and shook her head.

"I hope you've learned everything you wanted now?"

"Yeah," a cheerful grin spread across his face. "Although I'd like to work with your boy some more. I'd like to see what he's capable of..." he saw his goddaughter's wary look. "No need to worry, I won't touch him. He's already on edge with me. I'd rather play cards with Radko."

Anri shook her head. Well, it was better than constant scandals. Maybe she could at least spend the rest of her time in Bulgaria well?

"Oh, yes," Sirius reached for the inside pocket of his leather jacket, which he never parted with. "Happy birthday, baby!" He handed her a small box with a bright blue ribbon.

Her eyes carefully untied the bow and removed the lid. Henrietta saw a modest bracelet with pendants in the form of small roses. However, the bracelet itself was gold, and the roses, after checking for spells, turned out to be enchanted - they gave quite strong protection and warned of the presence of poison in food.

"Thank you for the wonderful gift, but..." Anri began, getting ready to refuse.

"No ‘buts’," Sirius interrupted. "I didn't cast a spell on it for you for a week so that you would return it to me. Women love jewelry, right? And it will also protect you. This way I'll feel better about you," he exhaled, immediately drooping. "I can't protect you myself, but at least this way."

"Thank you," she placed her palm on his hand and smiled, sincerely and gratefully.

Sirius beamed and ran out of the room, shouting to Mr. Krum from the stairs to distribute the next batch. Covering her lips with her hand and suppressing a giggle at her godfather's behavior, Anri returned her gaze to the bracelet. It was indeed beautiful and could protect her. And it also had her favorite roses.

The rest of the holidays in Bulgaria passed without scandals, cheerfully, interestingly and peacefully. Vasilika continued to argue with Sirius sometimes, but these were more friendly squabbles, like Lisa and Draco, than serious quarrels. Victor, when Sirius stopped making scandals, relaxed and they even began to find some kind of common language.

Despite the difficult first half of the time spent in Bulgaria, the trip left behind pleasant emotions for both Henrietta and Sirius. He didn't even grumble or grimace at Victor, who was seeing them off and who, without any embarrassment, kissed Anri before parting.

But the thoughtful look of Victor's narrowed dark eyes, which she noticed just before the transfer, created many questions.

Chapter Text

The seventh year of study began with an unprecedented event - or rather, its absence. The headmaster did not introduce the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. All the professors remained in their places. The seniors, those of them who had already appreciated Professor Snape and his vast knowledge, prayed that everything would remain so at least until their graduation.

And then let the sky fall in the Great Hall.

Henrietta looked around the hall with a smile, filled with familiar professors and students. Many recognized her, the name "Harry" began to sound less often, replaced by "Henrietta" and simply "Potter" - "Miss Potter", if the person was polite enough.

The new school year did not bring any special surprises, which Anri was sincerely glad about. A quiet, calm and peaceful year. She was going to cross a few more plants and work on the Helios rose, observe it. In addition, it was necessary to prepare for the exams at the end of the year, which were administered by specialists from the Ministry. There were more lessons, as well as assignments.

The seventh-year students had almost no free time left.

When Henrietta went to Hogsmeade on weekends, she spent a couple of hours with Draco and Sirius, and then joined her friends. Sometimes she even allowed herself to sleep in on the weekend, resting.

As Sirius and Draco told her, the trip to Bulgaria helped Mr. Malfoy with the process of dropping the charges against Sirius. It turned out that one of those who attacked them with Viktor in the third test of the Tournament - the same one who tried to use the third unforgivable on Viktor - was the real criminal, in whose place Sirius was imprisoned. And now Lucius Malfoy was establishing correspondence with Prince Oblonsky in order to obtain the much-needed evidence.

Lessons, lunches, Slug Club meetings, tea parties with Professor Flitwick, evening tea parties in the dormitory - school life was calm and familiar. Minuet pecked and scratched when it was time to fly to Viktor, but she delivered letters.

"Anri," Sabrina turned to her one evening over a cup of tea, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "have any guys approached you?"

This question shook the quiet calm in the company of friends.

It turned out that Henrietta Potter, in the opinion of Hogwarts students, was quite a beautiful girl with a quiet, good nature and good grades. And some of the guys followed her with... telling glances.

Sabrina, who had been catching such glances for a long time and in large quantities, noticed it first, and also overheard several conversations. Liza and Padma were not interested in the guys from Hogwarts - one was smiling mysteriously and writing meter-long letters to someone, and the second's grandfather found a fiancé with whom she was happy.

But the question of Anri's relationship interested everyone. Henrietta had to tell about Victor in evasive and vague formulations. Expanded and vague primarily because it was problematic to clearly and distinctly define their relationship. Not a fiancé, not a friend, not a boyfriend - there was no offer to date. Victor is Victor, that's all.

Although this did not solve the problems.

But the "reciprocal interest" of the girls was misunderstood and provoked action. Guys began to approach Henrietta with invitations to a date in Hogsmeade, with confessions and even offers to date.

Anri was grateful for Aunt Petunia's lessons, after which she could refuse politely and correctly, but the main difficulty was that the boys did not understand these refusals.

And they became more and more persistent.

"Tell them that you have a boyfriend," Lisa advised at the next evening council of seventh-year Ravenclaw girls. "That will scare at least some of them off. And if you also say a more influential name, then that part will become even larger."

That would have been a good decision. If not for Anri's principles. And using Victor's name like that was more than unsightly. The very thought of using someone else's name caused such aversion that the idea of ​​cursing overly intrusive suitors became more attractive.

And all Henrietta could do was walk the corridors with a look around and politely refuse the guys. After several weeks of such a "siege", Anri was so tired of it that she began to miss those old times when she was considered a guy.

The girls were tense and cautious. Once, a particularly persistent suitor managed to get into the Ravenclaw common room and tried to get into the seventh-year girls' room. After that, each of them had a wand next to their pillow.

That's why the Patronus who burst into the bedroom in the middle of the night was met with four wands pointed at him and binding and inhibition spells.

A huge translucent golden eagle, ignoring the spells, landed on Anri's bed and looked at the girls sternly. It fixed his predatory eyes on Henrietta and jumped closer.

There was a chain with something dark on it’s neck. Anri didn't have time to examine it, because the Patronus spoke in Victor's voice.

"Etta, forgive me if the Patronus arrived late and woke you up."

"And apologize to us?!" the disheveled Sabrina was indignant, puffing out her cheeks in resentment.

"I couldn't trust this to the owls," the golden eagle continued. "There is a chain with a ring on the Patronus's neck. This is the ring of the dragon's bride. Take it if you agree."

"Get away!" Lisa suddenly jumped up from the bed, trying to drive away the Patronus, like an ordinary bird.

The golden eagle glared at her angrily and, throwing the chain from the neck onto the blanket, quickly flew through Lisa, disappearing.

Carefully lifting the chain, Anri peered at what was hanging on it. A ring in the shape of a clawed dragon's paw, which should clasp a finger.

"Throw that nasty thing away!" Lisa screamed, breathing heavily. "Right now!"

"What's wrong with you?" Padma grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her.

"I'll make some tea..." Sabrina muttered, crawling out from under the blanket.

Sitting down in the tea corner, placing the chain and ring in the center of the table, the girls drank a cup of tea, to which Henrietta added a calming potion.

"So," the cup landed on the table with a quiet thud. "Now that we've all calmed down and are ready for an objective conversation, may I ask the reason for such a reaction?"

"The Dragon Bride," Lisa winced. "That's what they called the girls who were sacrificed to dragons. An old tradition that was banned in many countries long ago."

"And you think that Anri is going to be given to the dragon to be eaten?" Padma asked, moving closer to Anri.

"Yes," Lisa nodded. "In Bulgaria, there is a special attitude towards traditions and magical creatures, even in the Muggle part. In the magical part... Vampires are full-fledged and even respected members of the magical society, if such an example will show you the scale."

"Bloodsuckers - and full-fledged members of society?" Sabrina asked skeptically, snorting.

"Moreover, they even have children from ordinary women," Lisa chuckled. "I'm telling you, Bulgaria is a special case. And that case at the Quidditch World Cup - Bulgaria brought the Veela. In a calm state, women who charm all men, in anger - wild birds spitting fire. I heard about the madness that happened in the stands when they came out. And I have no doubt that the Bulgarians did it on purpose."

Henrietta twitched the corner of her lips, covering it with a cup of tea. Of course, on purpose. And there are suspicions that this is a personal dirty trick from Vasilika, which Prince Oblonsky did not stop.

"So... what are we going to do with the ring?" Sabrina glanced warily at the chain.

"I suggest Hellfire," Liza shrugged.

"Then it would be better to dissolve it in basilisk venom," Padma snorted.

"I think I'll just put this ring aside for now, no need to destroy it right away," Anri objected softly, pulling the chain off the table away from the determined looks of her friends.

The suspicious ring made all four girls nervous. And this resulted in several curses from Liza, Padma and Sabrina towards the persistent suitors, both their own and Anri's.

After a particularly irritating day, Henrietta holed up in her bedroom while her friends were studying in the library and released the panther patronus, whose presence always made her feel better.

The big cat growled contentedly, rubbed its head against its owner briefly, and lay down on the bed, wagging its tail. Anri lay down next to a book and a dictionary - it was one of the books Victor had bought her for her birthday.

Thoughts about Victor and the ring occupied her thoughts. Henrietta did not want to believe that Victor could really send her something so dangerous, or, even more so, think of giving her to a dragon. After all, he had already had the opportunity to do so. If he had wanted to feed her to a large fire-breathing lizard, he would have done it long ago.

But then what was wrong with this ring?..

A chain with the same ring fell onto the pages of the book. Anri raised her head in surprise, looking at the satisfied face of the panther, who even pushed the ring towards her with her nose.

“Do you want me to accept the ring?” Anri raised her eyebrows, watching her own patronus.

With a satisfied growl, the panther waved tail, resting head on paws and carefully watching the mistress.

Deciding that her own patronus could not harm her, Henrietta carefully, hesitantly, took the ring off the chain and put it on her finger. The clawed paws immediately clenched, the sharp tips of the claws slightly pressing on the skin, not painfully, but noticeably. It looked as if the dragon had grabbed her, not intending to let go.

Anri didn't feel anything strange, so she calmly continued reading next to the even more satisfied patronus, periodically glancing at the clawed ring on her finger.

The first "suitor" who approached her the next day stopped two meters away from her, trembling, and walked away with horror in his eyes. And it was the same with all the "admirers." Anri hid a satisfied smile.

She had no more problems with the guys. The only inconvenience was that the ring did not come off. Even if they tried to pull it with all their might and remove it with spells - and her alarmed friends tried - the ring simply dug its claws into the skin, refusing to let go of the "prey."

Lisa was quietly hysterical, rummaging through the library in search of information about the ring and how to remove it. She definitely did not like the phrase "dragon's bride."

Henrietta was happy with everything as long as no one tried to pull the ring off her - then it hurt until it bled. Otherwise, she was happy with everything.

Anri had no intention of staying at school for Christmas - she hadn't celebrated it at home with her family for three years already. So, having planned everything so that even the experiments in Professor Sprout's greenhouse would not interfere with her departure, she packed her things and went back by train.

Aunt Petunia was happy, Uncle Vernon grumbled a little - "for decency's sake", as Auntie called it, Dudley was as noisy and energetic as always, trying to tease her, but not offensively. Aunt Marge arrived almost right before Christmas, discovering another wonderful property of the dragon ring - next to it, her dogs became docile and obedient.

Christmas carols, a fluffy fir tree, Yorkshire pudding, presents under the tree in the morning, sweets in gift stockings above the fireplace, a Christmas wreath on the front door, holly on the ceiling and vases with gingerbread cookies all over the house. Anri had almost forgotten what it was like to celebrate Christmas at home with her family.

And it was just wonderful.

The rest of the year was spent preparing for exams. The exams themselves were difficult, and the committee was strict. It should have been so, but they remembered very well the chaos created by the students two years ago. And since the "terrible secret" of the identities of the organizers of the Liberation Revolution had already spread, it seemed, throughout all of magical Great Britain, the members of the committee were also in the know. They joked about this with Miss Potter, communicating more freely than with other students, but also evaluating more strictly.

After the exams, Anri had only enough strength to walk with dignity to her bedroom, and then collapse exhausted on the bed, only crawling out to the tea corner in the evening for dinner, which Sabrina brought. She seemed to have never run out of energy, so after exams she managed to discuss everything with the fifth and seventh year students, suggest a couple of answers to the younger ones, run around the entire school and bring dinner for four to the bedroom, where her exhausted friends lay without strength.

Victor met her on the platform with a burgundy rose - in the center it was light red, and towards the edges its petals became almost black. Sweet, but not cloying, deep scent enchanted, as did Victor's soft smile.

And everything would have been fine if the friends hadn't pounced on the guy with accusations of all the deadly sins.

"I think a crowded platform isn't the most convenient place for a conversation," Anri gently stopped the argument, slightly squeezing the shoulder of the heated Lisa with her nails. "Maybe we can find a cozy cafe where we can discuss everything over a cup of tea?"

Ladies don't make scandals in public and don't participate in them.

A small coffee shop in London not far from the station from which the train to Hogwarts departed turned out to be ideal for them. A table in the corner by the window, at which everyone sat comfortably. Having ordered two pots of tea and waited for the waitress, the girls pounced on Victor with questions, this time much more quietly and no longer trying to scratch his eyes out in advance.

Hearing the reason for the indignation, Victor's face darkened and he hugged Henrietta. He looked straight at her with dark eyes, in which the pupil was not visible, and in a deep, frosty voice asked:

"Did you really think that I could send you a dangerous thing, Etta?"

Smiling guiltily, Anri ran her fingertips along Victor's cheek.

"She put it on less than a week later, what mistrust?" Sabrina snorted, carelessly breaking the ordered cake with a spoon.

"But the patronus said that this was the ring of the dragon's bride!" Lisa said in an accusatory tone, squinting and pointing her finger at Krum.

"And you thought that I would feed you to the dragon," Victor skeptically repeated Padma's words earlier, looking reproachfully at Anri.

"I didn't think you had such plans, but Lisa provided quite convincing arguments why there was no need to rush."

"And we couldn't dismantle the charms cast on the ring," Padma hissed discontentedly, sipping her tea.

"You would surprise me if you could," Victor shook his head. "This ring was made back in the days of Tsar Kaloyan the Roman Slayer, it's eight hundred years old."

Sabrina whistled respectfully, looking with some awe at the dragon paw on her friend's finger. Padma was also surprised, but it was shown differently - she choked on her tea. Lisa obligingly patted her on the back.

"So it was intended for the dragon's future victim?" she continued the semblance of an interrogation with a suspicious squint.

"You could say that," Victor grinned. "The dragon was the name of King Kaloyan himself - he conquered lands with dragon greed and defended with dragon cruelty. The ring meant that the girl belonged to King Kaloyan and was under his protection - it scared away enemies and rivals, curses bounced off it like dragon skin."

"And it clings with dragon claws, too," muttered Padma, who had tried to remove the ring from Anri's hand a couple of times and personally ran for healing potions to heal the scratches from the stubborn ring. "And how did you end up with it?"

All the girls looked at Victor with curiosity, who hunched over and frowned from such attention, hugging Henrietta tighter.

"Kaloyan Asen is my distant ancestor, the ring of the dragon's bride has been passed down in our family for many centuries. It was passed down to me after the Tournament, I wore it on a chain."

"Stop-stop-stop," Sabrina waved her hands, miraculously not knocking over the teapot. "Royal ancestors and wonderful rings from them are good, but I'm worried about something else. What did you say about the meaning of the ring?"

Anri just sat quietly in Victor's arms, not interfering in the conversation and listening attentively. In general, she suspected something like this after the overly pleased reaction of her patronus and the "suitors" who were scared by something incomprehensible.

"The bird said something along the lines of ‘agree – accept’, I think, I didn't understand it in my half-sleep," Padma added.

"What's so incomprehensible," Lisa sighed, suddenly calming down. "Our Anri, it seems, was proposed to, and she accepted. Although such wording is not to be taken down the aisle, but to the grave," she cast a gloomy glance at Victor.

"Anri what?!" Sabrina exclaimed, looking at her friend with round, owl-like eyes.

"I'll be the bridesmaid," Padma muttered quietly, not yet fully comprehending what was happening.

More precisely, what has already happened.

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Anri said calmly, picking up the cup of tea she had put down earlier. “An engagement can last for years, and I doubt that you, Victor, want to marry me so much that you’re ready to walk me down the aisle tomorrow.”

“And what’s gotten into you anyway?” Sabrina asked curiously, resting her cheek on her palm.

“He was afraid that she would be taken away,” Padma snorted, having come to her senses. “Dragons are like that, they’re ready to roast you for their gold, and now he needs to let her go somewhere, and without supervision. By the way, you sent the ring just in time.”

Victor hugged Anri even tighter, frowning.

"Well, girls, congratulations on graduating," Lisa raised her cup, cheering up. "In honor of this, I suggest we order some kind of cake. At the dragon's expense, of course," she looked at Victor sarcastically.

Anri smiled, feeling how the guy relaxed. And even if the girls would call her the dragon's bride from now on, Victor didn't look like an evil dragon to her. As she once said at the Tournament, the noble warrior defeated the monster and brought home gold and a bride.

The monster is defeated, the gold is found, the bride - Anri glanced at the clawed ring - agrees to marry the glorious warrior - even if not right now.

And then the plan is a feast for the whole world - fruit cake with a cap of whipped cream and bergamot tea with lemon.

And Henrietta smiles happily, being in Victor's arms and listening to her friends' discussions.

Chapter Text

A month in Bulgaria with Victor was wonderful, leaving behind many pleasant memories. But when the euphoria wore off, Henrietta realized that she was in her room at her aunt and uncle's house and didn't know what to do next.

She finished her seventh year at Hogwarts, received her certificate and became a full-fledged adult witch. But what now? Look for a job or try to get a higher education? Stay in the magical world or move to the ordinary one, waving goodbye to the magical one? Stay at her aunt and uncle's house or look for her own place? Should she stay in England at all or think about moving to another country?..

The old tried and true method of putting her thoughts in order worked this time too. A homemade berry pie, decorated with flowers made of dough over a grid of strips of the same dough with a large strawberry in the middle. Make the dough, wash and cut the berries, prepare the curd mass, add sugar, cover the form with dough, put in the berries and pour the curd mass, decorate and put in the oven, do not forget to grease the surface with oil.

By the time the pie was on the table, spreading a charming aroma throughout the house, Anri had decided to close part of her aunt's garden with charms and grow new varieties of magical roses there, which she would then sell. She had connections thanks to Professor Slughorn. And if it didn't work out, she could get a job at the pharmacy as a junior potion maker and sell potions - it wasn't for nothing that she had passed the Potions exam with "excellent"?

There was much more time to spend with her family, which Anri was happy about. She took on half of the household chores, freeing her aunt, who could now communicate with friends, read or just relax in front of the TV. Dudley was preparing to enter the university to become a programmer, Uncle Vernon, as always, worked. A few years ago, he had made a profitable deal and now he had more work, but he also earned more, which is why he was often in a good mood. However, he also began to spoil his beloved son more often.

Anri had no friends in the ordinary world, so she only corresponded with Victor and her friends. Sabrina was looking for a job, Lisa was making arrangements to study with some famous wizard, and Padma was preparing for a wedding, to which all her friends were invited. Victor was training and relaxing before the new school year - he was already in his fifth year of study in his specialty, studying diligently.

She managed to fence off a plot of the garden for her experiments, but she couldn’t get a job at the pharmacy. But Aunt Petunia came to the rescue, offering her niece a job at her friend’s bookstore. Anri happily agreed.

Henrietta’s usual day now consisted of a shift at the bookstore, where her uncle dropped her off in the morning, a train ride home, caring for the plants and household chores. Dudley went to study, proudly sticking his nose up in the air – he was getting a higher education, and Anri wasn’t. However, this only happened when Auntie wasn’t looking – Dudley was still afraid of his mother’s anger, even though he was almost a head taller than her.

Day after day passed unnoticed. In her free time, Henrietta met with her friends, saw Draco and Sirius – he was almost acquitted thanks to the help of Prince Oblonsky. Life became monotonous and calm, but Anri was happy with it. She might sometimes miss the noisy meals in the Great Hall or the discussions in the Ravenclaw common room, but she would never admit it.

In her room, Anri arranged a corner for potion-making, where she experimented with potions and her hybrids, brewed fertilizers and strengthening potions for plants, something weak for her aunt and uncle - so that the heart would not prickle, good dreams would be dreamed, the skin would be smoothed out, the hair would be lush and thick. For the ingredients, she had to specially enchant the closet, in which the clothes used to be, and attach many shelves. The school trunk now contained the entire wardrobe, and the charms allowed her not to waste time ironing clothes. Magic made life easier.

New roses appeared under the careful supervision of Henrietta. She decided to breed roses that could replace tea - dried a bud, and then poured hot water over it and it opened, saturating the water with a certain taste and smell. Beautiful, tasty and interesting. She had to constantly search for plants with the necessary properties in magic catalogs and order them. Anri spent all the money that she did not give to the "family fund" on her plants. It is not so easy to order a plant from the other side of the world, which also needs help to take root.

The space in the fenced corner was becoming small. Henrietta could not take more land from the regular garden for reasons of secrecy and politeness, and it was not possible to take up space in the garage. Therefore, Anri had to buy tubs for flowers, flower pots - regular and hanging, and soil in a regular flower shop.

ng more of a greenhouse than a bedroom. Only the corner for potions and the bed remained free of flowers - and even then, there were pots of flowers hanging above it, which Anri had hung on hooks screwed into the ceiling by Uncle Vernon - it was more reliable that way. It was, frankly speaking, scary to sleep under them, and not particularly convenient to water the flowers, but thanks to magic, everything was not so bad. To Anri's great regret, the spell of expanding space was forbidden to use without special permission, she did not want to risk it. Therefore, she had to come up with something else.

In her collection of hybrids there were already tea roses, in the most direct sense of the word, of several types - jasmine, apple, raspberry and almond. Having left the required number of buds, Henrietta collected the rest and, after checking for suitability for consumption, toxicity and other properties, dried them. The jasmine rose tea smelled incredibly aromatic, the taste was rich, but not too much - Anri was pleased.

In winter, Victor came, and in summer, regretfully casting stasis charms on her flowers, since Aunt Petunia would not be able to cope with them, Anri visited Bulgaria. She supported Victor, whose team failed to reach the final of the Quidditch World Cup, and simply walked with him, exchanged recipes with Vasilika and looked after the roses in the garden at her request, occasionally communicating with the prince and Mr. Krum.

In August, Henrietta and her friends happily accompanied Padma down the aisle to her happy groom in India. Parvati stood next to them, wiping away tears of joy - although, as Padma herself shared, Parvati pitied her sister because of her marriage of convenience, she herself was going to marry in England for love. Padma liked her groom, so Anri, Lisa and Sabrina sincerely congratulated her, smiling.

At home, nothing had changed during Anri's absence. Having managed to finish her vacation at work just in time, Miss Potter again plunged into daily chores. Periodically, letters arrived with orders for cuttings of her hybrids - Anri placed ads in special magazines, and Sabrina spread the information "in her own way", attracting interested wizards to her friend.

Gradually, the income from growing roses began to exceed expenses. Anri did not quit her job at the bookstore, but now no longer for the money, but for herself, so as not to get bored. In addition, while there were no customers, she could enjoy a good book over a cup of tea. The owner looked at such behavior of the worker with a condescending smile, allowing the girl to take books if the girl then returned them in their original condition. For the witch, this was not a problem, sometimes she even patched up the damage that was on the books before her.

Life was calm and without any sharp turns of fate. Communication with friends, Draco, Sirius and Viktor, work, roses. A couple of times she was invited to Hogwarts by Professor Slughorn for a meeting of the Slug Club. Padma had a son two years after the wedding, around whom they practically danced for joy - Sabrina, at least. However, she had another reason for joy - she was looking forward to her own wedding. How she managed to start such a strong relationship with Michael Corner - their classmate, also from Ravenclaw, distinguished by a fairly frequent and quick change of love interests, was unclear.

"The womanizer has found his flirt," Lisa snorted slightly at this, but she was happy for her friend.

This did not stop her from preparing nasty curses for Corner in case of trouble.

Having attended two weddings of friends who were happily living with their husbands, Henrietta began to think that she, too, would not mind marrying Victor.

In winter she came to Varna, wanting to celebrate Christmas with Victor. Henrietta was welcome in Bulgaria. True, it seemed that Vasilika was even happier about her son's bride than he was. Prince Oblonsky, with a slightly mocking smile, asked to be called by his first name.

"Almost one family, but you still call me 'prince,'" he shook his head, casting a sideways glance at his nephew, who was also guilty of the same.

Christmas in Bulgaria, despite Orthodoxy, was celebrated, like in England, from the twenty-fourth to the twenty-fifth of December. The streets were decorated with fir branches, tinsel, luminous garlands, deer figurines, and decorated Christmas trees were everywhere. The Krum house, hidden from non-magicians by spells, was decorated with the help of magic. Fireworks sparkled in the garden every now and then, carved snowflakes fell from the ceiling in the house, disappearing one and a half meters above the head, Christmas decorations moved by themselves, choosing a convenient place for themselves. Christmas tree balls played music, and curtains and carpets changed their patterns, showing animated winter landscapes and pictures of Christmas celebrations.

The festive table was cheerful and beautiful. In the center stood the Christmas bread - "pogacha", as Vasilika explained. Everyone was dressed up - Vasilika in a yellow evening dress, Radko in a white shirt and brown suit, Stefan almost in a red uniform, Viktor in a burgundy shirt and beige trousers. Anri herself was in a long beige lace dress, which she bought during a shopping trip with Vasilika.

The time passed cheerfully until midnight. But with the twelfth stroke of the clock, the lights in the whole house went out after Vasilika waved her wand. Indignant exclamations from Radko and Stefan and contented giggles from Vasilika were heard.

"It's not New Year's, after all! Lika, stop turning off the lights!" Stefan tried to get at least some light, who, judging by the sounds, knocked the glass off the table in surprise.

Henrietta had no time for this - Victor decided to take advantage of his mother's prank and, as the New Year's traditions dictate - and even though today is Christmas and not New Year's - kiss Anri, who was sitting next to him. The couple did not notice the light that appeared.

"Victor," Stefan coughed into his fist, forcing his nephew to tear himself away from the bride.

Anri looked away in embarrassment at the fluffy decorated fir tree, feeling the heat rushing to her cheeks. It was awkward.

"So," Vasilika clapped her hands, smiling brightly. "And now the pogacha!"

Stefan, who was the first to try the Christmas loaf, grimaced and pulled a coin out of his piece.

"You really like putting coins in my food, Lika," he sighed, continuing to eat.

Victor looked at his piece suspiciously, glancing sideways at his mother. Radko ate calmly. Anri took a careful bite, knowing Vasilika's love for fortune telling. And for good reason - her teeth ran along the edge of something hard. Henrietta carefully pulled a ring out of the pogacha - a gold strip with a neat path of small sparkling gems.

"Oh, congratulations, Etta!" Vasilika exclaimed. "You're getting married!"

"I always knew that you don't tell fortunes, but put things in everyone's hands that you need," Stefan sighed, looking at his nephew, who also pulled a gold ring out of his piece. "Well, Victor, are you getting married next year?"

"His mother will bite him to death if he refuses," Radko muttered in Bulgarian, continuing to eat.

Over the years, Anri has mastered conversational Bulgarian at a fairly good level and would have allowed herself to laugh if not for her amazement at the ring.

Victor's sigh and dissatisfied muttering about ruined New Year's plans were heard nearby.

"Etta," Victor turned to her, smiling at the corner of his lips, "this is not the best moment, but... Do you agree to become my wife?"

Henrietta smiled and nodded, pressing the ring she was clutching to her chest.

"No matchmaking, no ransom," Radko grumbled discontentedly into his glass of mulled wine, "of course, why do we need traditions..."

"Let's talk about this later," Vasilika hissed at him. "I personally am not going to look for specialists to ask her parents for permission. It's better for her to ask like this and get an answer, not to break down."

Victor clearly wanted to answer, but kept silent, turning all his attention to the happy Anri. Smiling at her, he touched his lips to the bride's clawed ring.

After Christmas in Bulgaria, chaos entered Henrietta's life. Everyone around her - even Dudley! - was excited about the upcoming wedding. Aunt Petunia was actively discussing the wedding with Vasilika, who had arrived in England. Padma, Lisa and Sabrina, who happily accepted the offer to be bridesmaids, brought chaos with each appearance. Uncle Vernon and Dudley suddenly decided to test Victor and find out if he could be trusted with Anri. Sirius, when he learned about the wedding, seemed to go crazy - first he happily jumped around his goddaughter, then decided to have a "serious conversation" with the Krums, then he got fired up with the idea of ​​personally choosing a dress for the bride - for which he was attacked by the bridesmaids, who were unhappy with such enthusiasm. The only ones who remained calm, at least outwardly, were Stefan and Radko. At least, that's what it seemed to Anri.

For her wedding, Henrietta wanted to breed a new type of rose - snow-white and playing a melody. She wanted to surprise Victor.

Up until the wedding, everyone was nervous. Anri kept herself in check, but the closer the wedding was, the more nervous she became, her fingers began to tremble - she almost cut off an unblown rosebud because of this. The tea that Padma brewed from her roses and some berries helped, after it came such peace that Henrietta was ready "to walk down the aisle to Victor right now."

Unfortunately, the tea only lasted for a few hours. And, most worryingly, Padma refused to give it to the bride before the wedding.

“A wedding only happens once in a lifetime, Anri,” her friend said with a soft smile, stroking her hand. “You have to feel everything to get all the happiness that a wedding will bring you.”

“We’ll do our best to make sure you have the most beautiful and happy wedding in the world!” Sabrina supported her.

Liza, trying to free up some space by moving the flower pots, snorted and asked not to have her wedding. In response, she was promised the brightest and loudest wedding. Liza groaned resignedly, hastily promising not to get married in that case.

It was strange, but Anri felt better after that.

The bride's dress was snow-white - just like the wedding singing roses that Henrietta had finally managed to breed and teach to play a simple but beautiful melody on the violin. The fabric gently hugged her shoulders and fell in soft folds down to the floor, leaving a train behind her. Her hair was gathered at the back of her head and secured with a wedding gift from Sirius - a silver comb with a scattering of diamonds.

Henrietta looked like a beautiful marble statue with emerald eyes. The friends exchanged satisfied glances, keeping a sharp eye out for the groom to pass by. Sirius, who was allowed to lead the bride to the groom, was allowed in without any special questions - only whether he had a curious "tail" behind him.

Petunia, seeing her niece, could not hold back her tears. Her little girl, her Anri, had grown up and was getting married. Such a beauty, such a clever girl, such a true lady... All four girls tried to calm her down, while trying not to bring the bride to tears, so that her makeup wouldn't smudge. Liza handed Anri a fan, advising her to fan her face with it so that her eyes wouldn't water.

Before leaving, Henrietta was nervous, but tried to remain cool. A lady never loses face. Thoughts suddenly appeared in her head that Victor might refuse her, that she might seem ugly to him, that something might happen... Frankly stupid and senseless, groundless.

Having inhaled the delicate scent of singing roses, Anri calmed down and entered with a smile, arm in arm with Sirius. And as soon as she saw Victor, all the worries passed. Only happiness remained.

Victor stood proudly in front, looking at his bride with a gentle, open smile.

And Henrietta confidently walked towards him, ready to exchange the dragon's clawed paw on her finger for a gold band.

Chapter Text

In the old days, when dragons still flew freely in the sky, in one kingdom there lived a girl with hair as black as soot, skin as white as the first snow, and eyes as green as jade. Young Countess Henrietta Potter, who ruled her county alone. Her parents died when she was still a baby, and she was left with only a loving and caring godfather - Duke Black, who, although he tried to raise the girl like a delicate and beautiful flower, was too busy for this.

Henrietta was forced to independently learn to perform the duties of the count and grow up early. Thanks to her godfather, she was able to inherit the title of Countess Potter, which was extremely rare in their country, because usually sons and husbands of daughters inherited. But Henrietta was smart and capable, and she also loved her county and the people who lived in it. And her people, who saw how the young countess tried for them, reciprocated her feelings.

The county no longer lived as well as under the previous count, but no one complained about life. Henrietta personally rode around her estates, helping the peasants, watching the knights train, talking with merchants. When she had a free minute, she preferred to spend it on a book or playing the violin, if there were no important matters.

Among the aristocrats, she earned respect for her actions, and her beauty and manners earned her sympathy. Duke Black looked at his goddaughter with pride at receptions, how gracefully she smiled, how beautifully she spoke, how gracefully she twirled in the dance. He enjoyed how his best friend's daughter had grown up and thought that when he got to the late James and Lily, he would have nothing to apologize to them for - he took care of their daughter and continues to take care of her now, loves her like a daughter or a niece. And only the understanding that he could have saved James if he had not been in the capital when his friend was fighting the enemies hit him, forcing him to feel guilt and remorse.

By her twenty, Henrietta had fully understood her responsibilities and established the household in the county, pulling it up to an even higher level than it was under her father. With more free time, Lady Henrietta began to take care of the garden around the estate, planting roses in it. In the very depths of the half-abandoned garden, near the white-stone gazebo, where, according to the butler, her mother liked to spend time, there were thickets of thorny rose hips with bright red velvet flowers. Henrietta often came to that gazebo, spending time near the rose hips and talking to them. In response, the rose hips kindly swayed their branches and treated her to large sour fruits, the seeds of which jumped out themselves, immediately burying themselves in the ground, which caused a slight smile on the girl's lips.

The Potter family had one secret that few people knew about. Lily Potter, the earl's wife, was not just a girl from a poor family, but also a real witch. She knew how to charm plants, communicate with animals and brew medicinal decoctions. And the gift of witchcraft was passed on to her daughter. The rosehip, like a house cat, caressed her hands, pressing its sharp thorns to the trunk, and blossomed especially for her.

During another check of the territory on a wide forest road, Henrietta and the knights riding with her were attacked by bandits. And before the Countess had time to comprehend the situation, she threw her hand forward in a defensive gesture, and a wall of thorny, strong rose hips with thorns so long and sharp that they resembled daggers made of the best steel instantly sprouted from the ground in front of her. The horses were frightened, but the knights tamed them. The young knights looked askance at their mistress with apprehension, but just one look from their stern captain brought them to their senses.

“Mistress, we should go back,” he rode closer.

“Soon the rainy season will begin, the river will overflow its banks again,” the Countess shook her head, quietly catching her breath and watching the rose hips hiding back in the ground. “We must check the villages to the north and make sure that another flood does not await us. It's better to take care of this in advance than to carry sandbags in the rain later, trying to stop the water, don't you think?" and, smiling briefly, spurred her horse, heading forward.

After that, rumors about the Thorn Witch began to spread. They grew overgrown with details, everyone tried to add something from themselves. Just two months after that incident, the Thorn Witch turned out to be an evil and cruel middle-aged woman with blood-red eyes and the same lips.

Henrietta paid no more attention to these rumors than necessary, preferring to attend to the affairs of the county rather than argue with rumors that would only become more intense and colorful.

Potter County lived peacefully, despite rumors of the Thorn Witch living there, and even the warlike neighbors, with whom their kingdom had a long-standing feud, did not bother, believing in the existence of a terrible witch. And everything was fine until a detachment of free warriors from a neighboring state set foot on the lands of the county.

The warriors under the flag with the symbol of golden eagle – Berkut – were strong and merciless to the defenders of Potter County. They ravaged the villages of the county, took food from the peasants and moved closer and closer to the Ignotus estate, where Countess Potter was. It was impossible to cope with them alone, so Henrietta sent a letter to her godfather asking for help.

The Duke of Black's warriors entered Potter County and began to push back the Berkut mercenaries, as the members of the free company were called in the villages. Henrietta breathed a sigh of relief when she received word that the company had retreated under pressure from the Duke of Black's knights. She was sure that the foreign warriors no longer posed a threat to her county.

Henrietta was drinking tea in the gazebo when the rose hips around her began to stir, and screams were heard from the direction of the estate. The girl, alert, left the gazebo and went toward the noise. The screams were joined by the ringing of metal and the clanging of swords.

A battle was going on at the main entrance to the estate, and frightened maids were looking out of the windows. Henrietta did not allow herself to show the horror that gripped her when she looked at the black fabric with the silhouette of a golden eagle. She had to get into the estate and lead the servants out while the knights were still holding back the onslaught of strangers.

Carefully reaching the small door to the kitchen, which was on the other side of the main entrance, Henrietta entered the house, frowning with displeasure at the negligence of the maids - leaving the door open could have been an excellent chance for enemies to get inside.

Henrietta closed the door tightly and went upstairs, where most of the servants had gathered. The maids were scared, the boys enthusiastically stuck to the windows, shouting to encourage the defending knights, the men were preparing to defend themselves.

"Have you closed all the doors and windows?" Henrietta's voice was quiet and stern, her question instantly cut off all conversations.

The maids immediately began to rush about in panic, trying to remember if they had closed the doors. Several men, grabbing the tools they had brought with them, went to check the bolts. Henrietta slightly moved the heavy curtain, quietly looking out. The mercenaries were busy at the main entrance, there should have been no one on the other side of the estate.

"It is unknown how much longer the knights will be able to hold off the onslaught of the attackers," Henrietta quietly addressed the butler. "Leave everyone down to the basement and take them out through the underground passage."

"Mistress, if the knights repel the attack, the mercenaries will retreat to the forest where the underground tunnel leads," the butler shook his head, watching what was happening outside through the window.

"If we start when they have already broken through to the estate, it will be pointless," Henrietta glanced at the frightened people. The girls clung to their mothers' skirts, trying to hold back their tears. "Take the people to the basement, leave only a few here. If they break through inside, I will send word to you. Then you, thinking only of the servants entrusted to you, will take everyone out through the forest. Go west, ask for help from Duke Black."

"Mistress..." the man wanted to object, but gave in under the confident gaze of the countess. "As you command," he bowed in respect, stepping back.

When the enemies broke into the estate, Henrietta sent the servants who remained with her to the basement to warn the others. She was very scared, her heart was pounding in her throat. She wanted to run away, to hide from strong warriors with sharp swords. But she couldn’t. She was Countess Potter. She had to stay on her lands and protect her people until the very end. She would not show cowardice and run away from her own home, but would meet the enemy face to face.

Taking the sabre that the Duke of Black had once given to her father, with servants keeping it in perfect condition and keeping the blade sharp, from the wall, and grabbing a candlestick with five burning candles from the table, Henrietta went to meet the intruders.

She stopped at the wide staircase leading to the hall on the first floor. The warriors in black stood there, surprised by the desertion of the estate. All tall and strong, with swords smeared with blood. The idea seemed more and more stupid, but it was her duty.

Ladies do not run away from responsibility, doing their duty with their heads held high.

“I am Countess Potter, the mistress of this estate,” she began in a cold tone, holding her hand with the sabre down, hiding the weapon behind the skirt of her dress. “Get off my lands.”

A mocking laugh was heard from below. The warriors, not seeing any threat in her, did not take her seriously at all. Only one did not laugh, but watched her, not taking his black eyes off her.

With a furtive, nervous sigh, Henrietta threw the candlestick down, right onto the thick carpet that covered the entire floor on the first floor. The fire immediately began to flow in rivulets across the carpet, moving onto furniture, curtains, and clothing. Some of the men panicked and retreated. The black-eyed man, still staring at her, tore his cloak from his shoulders and threw it onto the carpet, extinguishing the fire, immediately stepping onto the stairs, the lower steps of which had already turned slightly black. The flames closed behind him.

“Use the cloaks and water in the vases,” he said to the warriors futilely fighting the fire. One of them immediately pushed a vase of flowers onto the floor, the water from which extinguished some of the fire around it.

Henrietta felt cold inside and her fingers trembled. Pursing her lips, she retreated into the inner rooms, barely hearing the footsteps of the approaching mercenary. The small living room was convenient because there were pots of roses on the windowsill, and the window looked directly onto the garden. The girl went to a soft armchair standing in the back of the room when the man appeared in the doorway. Tall and even strong-looking, with a frowning crease between his brows and a sword in his hand.

“Are you alone here?” the man asked calmly enough, coming closer.

“If you go away, I would be happy if so,” Henrietta jerked her head, clutching the saber tighter in her hand.

The man was in no hurry to attack. When he came close enough, Henrietta, not giving herself time to change her mind, struck him in the chest with her saber. A metallic ringing sound was heard. There was chain mail under the black fabric. The mercenary frowned and pressed his lips together, raising his sword.

Henrietta, not letting go of the saber, jumped back to the window, reaching out to the roses, which instantly grew, trying to cover their mistress.

The man cut the stems with a sharp movement, but they climbed again. Tirelessly struggling with the growing bush, he found himself only a few steps away from Henrietta, when the dense thickets fettered his legs and left hand. With his right, he put the blade of the sword to the throat of Henrietta, who was looking for an escape route, cut off from all exits by the bush, standing like a wall in front of the window so that the girl would not fall out.

"What will you do now, Blackthorn Witch?" the man grinned, his eyes flashing.

Henrietta raised her head slightly, looking proudly into his eyes. She lost, but did not give up. Her people managed to get away. And even if she now finds herself a hostage or dies, even if she set a fire on the first floor of her estate with her own hands, she defended her home and her people to the last.

Footsteps and male voices were heard at the entrance. The heart of Potter County was captured by the Berkut mercenaries.

To Henrietta's surprise, they simply locked her in her own bedroom, after checking the room for weapons and secret passages and assigning guards. She could move freely around her room, read books, play the violin, and three times a day one of the mercenaries brought her food. But all the flowers were removed from her room.

Henrietta didn't know what these men wanted or why they needed her. Surely they needed her, since they left her alive, fed her, and even guarded her? At night, she couldn't sleep, fearing that someone would enter her room. Instead, she stood by the window and quietly called a rosehip sprout to her. Small, it crawled along the ground unnoticed, trying not to be seen by the mercenaries, and made its way to the wall, which it climbed up until it reached the window in Henrietta's room, where it sat in a crack in the windowsill, hiding.

One day, when the girl was already tired of the constant feeling of danger, and was simply reading in a chair, the same man who put a sword to her throat came to her.

"Are you comfortable enough?" he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall.

"I thought that the mistress of the estate should ask such questions," the countess hinted at their situation without raising her eyes from the book.

The man chuckled and settled into the chair opposite, resting his elbows on his knees, looking at her with a grin.

"Are you offended at us for seizing your lands?"

"What are you saying," the girl looked up at him and smiled politely, "how can I be offended by warriors who carry out the orders of their sovereign?"

The mercenary's smile disappeared, he straightened up and looked her in the eyes with complete seriousness.

"The prince doesn't know about what's going on. We are a free detachment, and this is our decision."

"Of course," Henrietta raised the corners of her lips mockingly, closing her eyes.

There could be no doubt that she was sure of the prince's involvement in what was happening.

The man leaned towards her, looking menacingly straight in the eyes and tightly squeezing the armrests with his fingers.

"Watch your tongue. You may be the crown princess, but right now you are a hostage. My hostage," he lightly tugged Henrietta's loose strand of hair, letting her feel not strong, but noticeable pain. "And if I say that our prince doesn't even know about what's going on, that's true. Am I being clear, my lady?"

Henrietta just glared at him and, waiting for him to let go of her hair, returned to reading her book, without even thinking about answering the question.

The man exhaled loudly and left silently, only the door quietly clicked shut.

In the evening, the youngest of the mercenaries, who usually brought her food, came to her.

“Your dinner,” he smiled at her, putting the tray on the table. “I heard you angered Thor today?”

Henrietta did not deign to look at the guy, continuing to read.

“Please don’t be angry with him, he himself already regrets that he lost his temper. He just doesn’t like it when the prince gets involved in our affairs. Ah, you don’t know!” he exclaimed and sat down in the chair where the owner of the black, like the abyss itself, eyes had sat during the day. “After this campaign, we are going to…”

“Aydar! Stop chattering!” came from behind the door.

The boy pulled his head into his shoulders and, muttering something, ran out the door, shouting from the corridor a wish for a pleasant appetite.

Against her will, the corners of Henrietta's lips lifted slightly in a slight semblance of a smile. Aydar was too sincere and open, too friendly. Henrietta could not perceive him as a warrior and a man. In her eyes, he was still a child, a boy who somehow ended up among all these mercenaries.

The next meeting with Thor - as Aydar called him - happened at the worst possible time for Henrietta. He came in at the very moment when she was engrossed in the rose hips on the windowsill. The girl does not know how long he stood there; she noticed him only after he himself started talking.

"I remember they took all the plants out of your room."

Henrietta turned to him. The man stood calmly a little further away, watching her play with the rose hips. He looked relaxed, but the sheath with a dagger tied to his belt did not let her be fooled by his external safety.

"Obviously, they overlooked something," the girl involuntarily covered the plant with her sleeve, as if protecting it.

The mercenary laughed quietly, coming closer.

“I won’t touch your thorn bush, let it grow, since it got to you even here itself.”

“Is it really that hard to tell a rosehip from a thorn bush?” Henrietta raised an eyebrow, returning to her plant.

“A rosehip, you say?” the man came closer, standing behind Henrietta, and touched the plant with his fingers, examining it. “It really is a rosehip. So you’re not the Thorn Witch, but the Rose Fairy?” he joked, running his finger along a small scarlet flower.

Henrietta winced slightly. Thorn Witch, in her opinion, sounded better than the Rose Fairy. And certainly more useful - at least for a while there were fewer people willing to try to take over the lands of Potter County.

“Would you like to join us for dinner tonight?” Thor suddenly said from behind her.

Turning around, Henrietta almost collided with the man, but recoiled, leaning against the windowsill. Black eyes watched her carefully, trying to guess the answer. He did not expect her to agree, but he did not expect her to refuse either. He watched her as if she were something unusual and interesting. Someone unpredictable and even somewhat dangerous.

"Why?" Henrietta asked shortly, not looking away.

The green jade and the black abyss hypnotized each other, bewitching.

"Why not?" he answered quietly, stretching out his hand forward.

Henrietta imperceptibly held her breath, waiting for him to touch her, but he stroked the rosehip bud that had peeked out with his fingertips and, nodding slightly, left.

The Countess sank into her chair, waiting out the slight dizziness. Just now she had stood almost right next to a man who could kill her without any problem, who had seized her lands. But who for some reason was behaving surprisingly politely and even respectfully towards her. Although anyone else in his place would not have done so after the stunt with the fire and the attempt to strike with a saber.

In the evening, wearing a long closed green dress and gathering her hair into a neat braid, Henrietta nevertheless left her bedroom. For the first time since the seizure of the estate.

The corridor was empty, hubbub and laughter could be heard below. Descending the stairs, Henrietta looked with regret at the first floor and the lower steps, covered in soot. And the most painful thing was to realize that she had done all this herself, when she threw the candlestick down in an attempt to defend herself and protect her home from the invaders.

In the large dining hall there were tables and benches, where the mercenaries and the remaining servants and knights who bravely defended the Ignotus estate had comfortably settled. Henrietta looked in amazement at the peacefully talking recent enemies and could not believe her eyes. She was sure that the mercenaries had not left the defenders of the estate alive. But there they were, her knights, carefree, drinking and feasting, laughing with the invaders. Not all of them were here, however. The captain of the knights was nowhere to be seen. Knowing him well enough, Henrietta had no doubt that he would never put up with the current state of affairs. He, of all people, would certainly not sit next to the mercenaries who had seized the estate and have fun. And if he was still alive, he should be in prison, just like herself.

The feasting paid no attention to her appearance. Unlike Thor, who was sitting at the head of the table at the other end of the room. He noticed the graceful figure frozen in the doorway and rose to greet her. He approached and offered his hand with a slight smile.

Henrietta briefly glanced at the man, then touched his sword-roughened palm with her fingertips, the skin of which was soft and light, which stood out even more against the mercenary's dark skin.

As they walked forward together, silence fell over the hall. Only after Thor's actions did all those present pay attention to the girl. And now they were all watching her with their eyes. Some knights began to get nervous, and one even slowly slid under the table, not wanting to catch the eye of his mistress.

Henrietta did not look at those around her, her gaze fixed on the starry sky outside the window. So she walked along the long row of tables, arm in arm with Thor. At the head of the longest central table there was a small bench compared to the others. Thor sat down on it and pulled Henrietta along with him. Because of the small length of the bench, the girl had to sit almost right next to the man, who immediately raised his cup and nodded to the others to continue having fun.

Henrietta did not touch any food or drink during the entire evening. She sat next to Thor, who turned out to be the leader of the mercenary squad, the same Berkut whose personal sign was on the squad's flag, and watched what was happening with an indifferent gaze, occasionally almost imperceptibly curling her lips when she noticed the knights almost embracing their recent enemies. She obediently listened to laughter and jokes, sometimes very far from decency, listened to stories of the squad's adventures and tales of the Varn Principality. But when the jokes and stories turned to the capture of Potter County, when Henrietta heard her knights joke about their defeat and the capture of this estate…

"Excuse me, my head hurts. I think I'd better retire to my room," Henrietta said coldly to Thor, not looking at him, and with a leisurely majestic step she did not leave, but floated out of the hall, going up to her bedroom.

In the morning she found on the table in her room a velvety red rose flower from her favorite bush and a still hot piece of apple pie. She did not need to be a witch or be able to talk to plants to understand who it was from.

From that day on, the knights, if they caught Henrietta's eye, received cold, contemptuous glances, while the Countess's attitude towards Thor, on the contrary, warmed up a little. And even though he had captured her estate, he treated her with respect and understanding, and this was worthy of reciprocal respect.

Henrietta did not know why the mercenaries stopped at her estate and did not move anywhere else, but there was not even an echo of conversations about further advancement into the territory. As if they had already reached their goal and no one could disturb them. But this was not so. Duke Black should soon be informed about the state of affairs in the county, if he himself did not already know it. Her godfather certainly could not abandon her. Even if he allowed the thought of her death at the hands of mercenaries, he would not calm down until he himself was convinced of everything.

Henrietta kept glancing out the window, trying to spot the silhouettes of horsemen rushing to help in the distance. But everything was quiet and deserted, only the estate was bustling, which Henrietta could hear from her room.

After the failed dinner, Thor invited her to join the others several more times, but was refused. Henrietta continued to eat in her room in the company of Aydar. Until one day, Thor himself came instead.

Henrietta slightly raised an eyebrow, noticing the tray of food in the hands of the mercenary leader, but remained silent, returning her gaze to the pages of the book. The man walked up to her and placed his burden on the table with a clang.

"Will you share lunch with me?"

The girl turned to him, trying to hide her surprise - he was smiling softly, handing her half of a bun he had just broken.

If Henrietta had not known the situation, she would have thought it was an invitation to a truce. That was how, through a shared meal, the heads of warring families and countries mended their relations. But it certainly couldn't be that - Henrietta was a prisoner in her own home, Thor could not have had any reason to offer her a truce.

As much as it was sad to admit it, Henrietta could not oppose him in any way. She would not be allowed to do so. She was helpless.

But the strange, gentle smile of the man and the friendly proffer of a piece of bread - so simply, as is customary among knights on campaigns - made her tremble.

Henrietta, biting the inside of her cheek and hiding her uncertainty, accepted the food, the man's company and the offer to mend relations.

Thor did not come often. Usually in the late afternoon, bringing a tray of food and a candlestick with burning candles - which he put away from her with a slight grin, silently showing that he had not forgotten that decisive attack during the invasion. He said little, but his piercing gaze with his black, like the darkness of the night, eyes, in which the candlelight reflected, burned into the soul.

They had practically no topics for conversation, Thor was not going to give out important information about his squad, and Henrietta was not in the mood for idle chatter in her position. But the silence was not awkward or burdensome - the silence between them was thick and warm, like the air near a fireplace, and their eyes, having met, could maintain a connection, it seemed, infinitely long.

After such dinners, Henrietta felt that the room was impossibly stuffy - so much so that her thoughts became viscous, and common sense fell asleep. If it were up to her, Henrietta would lean out the window into the night chill to clear her mind. But she couldn't allow herself to do so.

One morning, Thor looked in on her. He stood by the door for a long time, watching her, and then quickly approached, as if afraid to change his mind, and leaned so close that Henrietta could feel his breath on her skin.

"Do you want to see your people?"

They froze, looking into each other's eyes. Henrietta tried to understand the meaning of his words, to find a catch, but she could not. Nothing could be read on Thor's face, and there was a second meaning in his words.

With a sigh, Henrietta put the book aside and decided to agree, at least for the sake of understanding what he needed. And she did not regret it.

Thor led her through the corridors to the upper levels of the dungeon, past the mercenaries on guard duty, and to the cells for prisoners. It was so dark inside that it was only dimly possible to discern whether anyone was in the cells. But as Thor brought the lantern closer, Henrietta saw the haggard and overgrown faces of her knights, led by their captain. They were exhausted, but whole and healthy, and their eyes were blazing with malice and defiance. The hoarse voice of the knight captain was more reminiscent of a raven cawing in the night than human speech.

“Get away, invader. We will not agree to your terms.”

Henrietta really wanted to maintain her composure and dignity, but she could not resist. Her people, whom she had never expected to see again, were alive and still loyal to her. The girl fell to her knees in front of the prison cell and stretched out her hands to her people, feeling tears running down her cheeks and her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Mistress..!"

Returning from the dungeons, following Thor, who had so thoughtlessly turned his back on her, Henrietta silently wiped away her tears, so as not to show her weakness to others. Thor said nothing to her downstairs, did not reproach her or smirk. He suggested that her knights stop being stubborn and agree to a peace settlement - and then they would be released, but in response he received only abuse and oaths to stick something sharp and iron into him at the first opportunity. Henrietta understood her people and did not try to convince them to compromise. Although there was little light and fresh air in the dungeon, the knights were not mocked and were regularly brought food - judging by the captain's reservations, this was done by the omnipresent Aydar. Henrietta even thought that a note of gratitude and favor towards the energetic boy slipped into the stern captain's voice.

She didn't want to discuss what had happened with Thor, but she couldn't remain silent either - her pride, oddly enough, wouldn't allow it. A quiet, rustling voice pierced the air for a moment, spreading along the stone corridor.

"Thank you."

Thor didn't answer this, but, having led her into the room and was about to leave, he casually touched the tips of her hair.

The almost inaudible "Don't be sad" was just audible to her.

The days went by, monotonous, as if copied from each other. They were drawing her in, twisting her thoughts into a strange whirlpool. Aydar, Thor, the knights in the dungeon, her own room - all of Henrietta's time consisted only of this. Outside the window, the rose hips were still visible, the knights' voices were heard from behind the door, and little by little it began to seem that nothing had changed, everything was the same. The boisterous, cheerful Aydar had become somewhat familiar, and evenings in Thor's company made her feel warm in her chest.

And only the snow that had fallen outside the window said that time was not standing still.

"Would you like to take a walk to the gazebo?" Thor approached her silently, stopping right behind her, so that his breath could be barely felt on the skin of her neck.

Henrietta turned her head slightly, stealing a glance at the man. Strange and incomprehensible, he confused her more and more. He was an impudent invader, a dangerous mercenary, he had taken her prisoner. But he had saved the lives of her people, he had treated her with respect, brought her flowers in the morning, shared her evening meal, silently looked at her with his impossible eyes so penetratingly that these glances haunted her at night, causing mixed feelings.

"Do you hope that I'll freeze and stop burdening you with my presence?" the girl slightly raised the corner of her lips, holding back a giggle.

Thor smiled crookedly and extended his hand to her in an inviting gesture, turning towards the door.

"I've never met the Thorn Witches before. Who knows, maybe you're thawing from the cold?"

"Really?" the gentle female fingers nevertheless weightlessly lay on the rough male palm. The low-heeled house slippers stepped quietly on the floor. "And I was lucky to personally see golden eagles, and even go hunting with them. Very interesting birds," she cast a sideways glance at the grinning Thor. "Silent, they don't scream even when hunting. Only during mating flights, communicating with chicks and defending their territory. I wonder if people are like birds?.."

The satisfied grin on the mercenary's lips faded. An unreadable look measured the girl. Henrietta herself was not sure whether her words were a subtle mockery or a hidden compliment. Pride said that she would like to hear the desperate cry of this particular golden eagle when he would protect his people, leaving her territory, but in front of herself the countess could not help but admit that at the same time she compared the man to a strong and brave bird not only because of the figure on the banner, but also because of his behavior. And the experience of social life quietly whispered that her words could be perceived as light flirting - would the golden eagle dare to cry out in front of her?..

Fortunately for Henrietta, Thor did not respond to this. They left the estate in their usual silence. A thin layer of snow covered the ground. The long hem of her dress left a wide mark, but the hostage in her own home did not care about the wet fabric. With a strange feeling, she caught a snowflake that had fallen from the sky on her open palm. A heavy fur-lined cloak with a massive clasp in the shape of a clawed bird's paw fell on her shoulders.

Mother's white-stone gazebo was still there, but the wild rose bushes around it had been thinned out considerably. Her hand trembled as she reached out toward the battered bushes with broken branches, crushed berries, and trampled remnants of petals. Her heart sank.

"Shall we have some tea?" the man shifted his gaze from the table set in the gazebo to his companion and frowned. There was too much pain in her proud gaze, the fingers on her barely outstretched hand were shaking too clearly, her lips were pressed too tightly. Her gaze fell on the ill-fated bushes. "You can come over."

Henrietta, thrown off balance - these wild roses connected her with her mother - by the state of her favorite place, turned sharply on the spot, looking into Berkut's eyes with suspicion and defiance.

"Will you risk it?" the voice is quiet, like the crackling of rose hips on a windy day, and the gaze burns with a devilish fire.

A step towards the bushes, another. The hand is resolutely stretched out to the broken branches. Under the gentle touch of the witch's fingers, the bushes instantly grow, grow huge sharp thorns, embrace the girl by the waist, ready to cover and protect.

And Thor looks straight and confidently, without a drop of fear or tension in his gaze. He doesn't laugh, doesn't even smile. He just walks towards her - heavily, weightily, majestically. As if from one look from him the thorns will crumble to ashes.

A moment - the elongated thorns freeze right at the eye of the unblinking mercenary, and a man's hand clasps a thin woman's neck. Eye to eye gaze. Night darkness and emerald greenery. Only for some reason neither fear nor hostility is felt. Fingers lightly, even gently stroke the skin under the jaw, and the thorns part, revealing a scarlet, like blood, rosehip flower that has just opened.

"Why did you remove the thorns?" the voice is calm, as if nothing strange is happening. And the thumb draws circles on the sensitive point behind the ear.

"Why don't you squeeze your fingers?" the countess answers in kind, pressing her lips tighter so that a sigh born of the sensations from the fingers does not escape from them - they do not press, rather they warm the skin that has begun to freeze and send waves of goosebumps running from the ear all over the body.

The man suddenly steps forward decisively, and the thorns, which have parted but not moved back, twitch fearfully from him, causing the mercenary to smile. The hand moves from the throat lower, caresses, crawls onto the shoulder and further - to the lush bud that has opened above him. Strong fingers, capable of crushing a flower in one movement, pull it forward without tearing it away. The head bends forward, the nose is buried in the fragrant core, and the lips almost touch the other's ear. "And yet, the local rose hips are a true treasure," a slight hoarseness appeared in his voice, heat radiating from the man - or Henrietta had already managed to freeze too much even under his cloak.

Her heart is pounding in her chest, the situation is too... too much. Thoughts are scattering. Henrietta turns her head to the side, but this does not make it any better, now a warm breath is scorching her curved neck. A velvety laugh rolls into the curve of her neck and shoulder as if a shiver runs through her entire body.

"I think we should still go up to the gazebo, while the tea is still warm," Thor simply turned and headed towards the set table, as if they had not just threatened each other.

And had they?

Henrietta is not sure. She simply wraps herself in a fur-lined cloak, goes into the gazebo, drinks hot tea with rose hips and makes light conversation. Everything happens very casually and freely, until the man breaks the fragile atmosphere.

"I am here to conquer not territories, but respect and authority."

Just one phrase, and the tea is no longer warm and tasty, but cold and bitter, the cloak is not comfortable, but a clawed paw on her throat reminding her of her position, the man opposite is not a pleasant conversationalist, but an invader.

It involuntarily slips into her thoughts that some men have an amazing talent for ruining everything with one phrase. Her godfather was also distinguished by this. This comparison makes her darken even more. There is no security in her position, and there can be no ease by definition.

“Is that so?” the voice is cold and calm, smooth as ice on a lake. An elegant fragile cup rises to her lips, the cooled bitter tea astringing on her tongue and sobers her up.

“I wish prosperity for my country,” Thor seems not to notice how the young countess hid her gaze and her hostilely twisted lips, “for this I need strength, influence, independence. Recognition. To ensure security and a good life for my loved ones. I declared myself loudly enough that I could no longer be ignored. There is no one left in these territories who has not heard of Berkut. No one who would dare to cast a contemptuous glance at me. In my homeland, even the prince will have to reckon with me after this. I, with my small detachment, brought terror to vast territories, captured Potter County, took the Thorn Witch captive…"

"Well, I thought I heard a bird chirp," Henrietta closed her eyes and sipped the cold, bitter-sour tea with a taste of disappointment in herself. A caustic mockery, covered by a mask of imperturbability. She doesn't want to hear what he's going to do with her lands. "I misheard, it must be too late for bird trills."

The crash and clang of a broken mug, the tablecloth gathered in ugly folds under strong hands that ran over it. Fingers grab a chiseled chin, forcing her to look at such a complex and incomprehensible man.

"It was the cry of a golden eagle."

A tense battle of glances and a touch of lips. Thor confidently crushes her lips, grabs her face with his hands, burning her with a piercing gaze. Henrietta, driven to distraction by his games, bites his lip with all her might, drawing blood. Thor is not embarrassed, he continues the kiss, painting their lips scarlet, and finally runs his tongue over the closed lips of the proud countess, covered in his blood.

“If you are a rosehip, then I am ready to become a bird that will rush to the sharpest thorn with a song.”

“Golden eagles do not sing,” Henrietta objects with a ragged breath, unconsciously collecting the remains of blood from her lips with her tongue.

“They do not sing,” a smile blossoms on his lips, too warm and tender for what is happening. “Instead, the golden eagle screams about its feelings at the top of its voice, when it is worth it.”

“Aren’t you confused with allegories yourself?” Henrietta openly taunts, childishly grimacing, allowing herself such liberty in front of him for the first time.

And Thor silently shakes his head and again presses his lips to hers in a kiss, this time receiving a timid and uncertain answer.

Henrietta is confused about everything - about events, about allegories, about people, about herself and her feelings. She feels like she is going crazy, but Thor's warm gaze across the table keeps her in the real world. She is used to being responsible, but this time she decides to postpone the realization. They still have plenty of time to figure it out.

But there is no time.

Henrietta looks out of the window of her room at the banners with the black wolf visible in the distance, but does not find the expected joy in herself from the appearance of her godfather.

There is fuss and noise in the estate, shouts are heard that the troops of the Duke of Black have surrounded them. No one stops Henrietta. She freely walks up to the gloomy, tense Thor, puts her hand on his elbow and does not believe herself what she is about to do.

"There is an underground passage to the outside in the basement. Go away."

Thor looks closely into Henrietta's eyes. They both understand that she has no reason to help, just as he has no reason to trust her. She could lead them straight into the Duke's trap.

"Show me," Thor doesn't take his eyes off her, clutching the hilt of his sword convulsively. The lives of his men are at stake.

Under Aydar's worried gaze and Thor's tense one, Henrietta leads everyone down and shows them the right move. She watches as the mercenaries disappear into the darkness. And Thor listens and becomes more and more tense.

"Aydar," he gloomily calls out to the boy who is not hurrying after the others, "do you need a special invitation?"

"But Thor...!" Aydar is burning with indignation, but twitches in fear at the commander's sharp hand gesture.

"Go away!"

Looking back, Aydar is the last to disappear into the secret passage. Only Thor stands next to Henrietta, clearly not going to follow the others.

“Thank you for your help,” his gaze is stern and sharp, like the tip of a steel sword, there is not a drop of the former warmth in it, only determination. “Stay in the dungeons, it will be safe here.”

Henrietta frowns.

“Why don’t you go with the others?”

Thor reaches out to her, runs his fingers near her cheek, but does not touch. Sparks of some bitter tenderness flicker in his eyes.

“There are too many of them. I have lingered too long in your garden. I must take responsibility for my mistakes and delay the enemies so that my people return safe and sound.”

“But it should be the other way around!” the girl cannot contain her indignation, amazed by the twist in his logic.

“Not in my nest, rose,” he smiles crookedly, touches her forehead with his and leaves.

Henrietta watches his back until he disappears around the corner, and then resolutely goes down another floor, admitting that she is crazy. She puts her hands to the black wall of spikes and consciously awakens the dragon sleeping under the castle. Under the loud, enraged roar of the awakened captive beast rushing out, the Countess bitterly understands - she does not regret not waking the dragon during the attack of the Berkut mercenaries. She did not have enough time, it could have been dangerous for her people - she can justify herself as much as she wants, and it will all be true. But now she has just released the dragon to help the enemy. Her conscience is calmed by the thought that this is just gratitude for Thor's respect for her, even care.

Yes - Henrietta decides - this is all payment for his noble mercy. He did not even touch her knights.

But why then do bitter tears roll down her cheeks when the godfather, holding her tightly to his broad chest, tells her in a soothing tone that Berkut is no longer scary to her, that he personally pierced him with a sword and kicked him into the turbulent river? The godfather strokes her head comfortingly, taking the tears for a manifestation of fear, and Henrietta's heart suddenly breaks with pain.

Life in the county returns to normal, but the young countess began to smile less, and at night she remembers the kiss with the taste of blood and the broad back of the departing Thor. Duke Black carefully supports her. To his regret, the mercenaries of the golden eagle disappeared into the principality, but his pride is warmed by the victory over their commander, especially the blow with a sword that landed on the left side of the face - which he never tires of telling in the evenings, not noticing how Henrietta's gaze dims from his words.

Time passes, rumors begin to circulate that the prince wants to conclude a friendly treaty with the kingdom. Countess Potter does not care about the rumors until a princely envoy with a familiar face arrives at the Ignotus estate.

Henrietta sits down at the table with the envoy, treats him to tea and patiently waits for what he will say. Aydar has hardly changed in the past year, he has only grown a little taller. He looks at her with shining eyes, smiles sparklingly and seems content with his life. The Countess's heart is grinding, but in a year she has come to terms with the death of Thor, who for some reason became so dear to her heart. Why hadn't she appreciated their evening dinners, rare quiet conversations, his attentive glances and fleeting smiles earlier?..

"The prince gives you a gift and asks you to accept his proposal of marriage," Aydar finally says, handing her a painted casket.

In the casket, on a cushion embroidered with roses, lies a black flute. Henrietta involuntarily smiles ironically. Is this the prince's hint that she is like a flute - potentially good, but useless without a master to use it? Or is the flute her county?..

"Excuse me?" Aydar, catching her glance, reaches out to the flute. "This is a kaval," he explains briefly, takes a deep breath and begins to play.

Henrietta closes her eyes and pretends not to feel a tear sliding down her cheek. In the song, she clearly hears the crackling of rose hips, a bird's trill and the cry of a golden eagle. With her eyes closed, she listens to Aydar's further explanations.

"The Prince wishes to cement a friendly alliance by marrying you. Conflicts have exhausted both your kingdom and the Varn Principality."

Countess Potter does not open her eyes or raise her hands to wipe away the wet streaks on her cheeks.

Everyone wants this. It is beneficial to everyone. This is what Thor would want.

"Convey my consent to the prince."

Duke Black, having learned of Henrietta's upcoming marriage, bursts into an angry tirade - he is unhappy that his ward voluntarily surrenders herself to her recent enemies. But the king does not allow him to accompany the bride.

The entire way to the Varn Principality, the girl, steadfastly enduring the shaking in the carriage and watching the landscapes passing by the window, scrolled through her memories in her head, tenderly pondering each one and, like a breath that turned into steam, letting go.

Will you share lunch with me?

The exhausted but unbroken look of the knightly squad captain settled in her soul with gratitude.

Do you want to see your people?

The blackened steps were covered with humility.

So you are not the Thorn Witch, but the Rose Fairy?

Whispered apologies were sent towards the dragon, awakened by her and again imprisoned in the dungeon by the godfather's forces.

Stay in the dungeons, it will be safe here.

The soft bitterness of rosehip tea was resurrected on her tongue.

Never met the Thorn Witches before.

Who knows, maybe you are thawing from the cold?

Dark eyes dissolved into the starry sky every night.

Why did you remove the thorns?

The voice that made her heart ache was carried away with a cackle by the birds.

And yet the local rose hips are a true treasure.

And only the heart became more and more overgrown with thorny thorns.

If you are a rose hip,

then I am ready to become a bird,

that will rush at the sharpest thorn with a song.

The principality greeted the countess surprisingly warmly. Warm sun, strong clean pavement, on which the horses' hooves rang out loudly. All the houses were strewn with wooden carvings depicting roses, and here and there there were flags with rose embroidery - Aydar happily told that they were hung in honor of the approaching rose festival.

Henrietta smiled softly and closed her eyes. It was as if the principality was trying to convince her that it could become her new home. If that was even possible.

Not far from the fortress where the prince lived, the carriage slowed down. The view outside was breathtaking - steep cliffs, wild thickets, a picturesque sky covered with clouds, even from the carriage window nearby villages were visible. The fortress and everything around it was imbued with something ancient and alarming, as if it were the nest of a huge bird of prey. Like the one on the coat of arms hanging above the entrance gate. Strong, dangerous, with a piercing gaze and sharp claws. Her chest tightened with anxiety, and the thought flashed that she would not mind at all if Duke Black were with her now, but…

As soon as Henrietta saw the prince, she was filled with warm gratitude to the king, who did not let her godfather go with her. The prince has gentle eyes the color of night darkness, dark skin, broad shoulders, a crooked smile and a scar across his left eyebrow.

Everything suddenly falls into place.

Without losing her dignity and not paying attention to her heart jumping joyfully, Henrietta sedately approaches the groom and extends her hand to him, introducing herself.

"Countess Potter, Henrietta Potter."

The prince, contrary to all norms of behavior, presses the outstretched hand to his chest, in which his heart beats strongly, powerfully and vividly.

"Prince of Varna, Victor."

They look tenderly into each other's eyes, Henrietta lightly runs her fingers over the scar from the godfather's sword and almost touches the groom's lips, but she is interrupted by a loud 'ooh' behind her.

"I forgot to introduce myself! Prince Aydar, Thor's brother!" the younger prince smiles broadly, scratching the back of his head, and Henrietta has almost no doubt that he followed his brother and the Berkut squad arbitrarily and in defiance of all prohibitions. "Uncle cleverly shifted the responsibility for our actions onto my brother, huh? Thor only wanted to create a new knightly squad, his own personal one - by the way, we are no longer just mercenaries! - but he became a prince instead of our uncle. He is now an advisor, he always makes fun of Thor. And I..."

Henrietta might want to listen to what else Aydar has to say, but Victor - Thor - persistently pulls her towards him and kisses her. This time there is no taste of blood or bitterness in the kiss, only tenderness and the promise of a happy future.

Chapter Text

Any teenage boy can dream about girls. Beautiful, unusual, cold and not so. With long hair and a bob, with sky-blue and earthy-brown eyes, with dimples from a smile and arched eyebrows. Different. Victor's friends discussed such dreams, laughed, were embarrassed, dreamed.

He also saw dreams. In them, the girl did not kiss him passionately, did not hang on his neck, did not look with an ecstatic gaze. The girl from his dreams looked piercingly sharply and proudly held her head, gently touched the rosebuds and smiled secretly with only the corner of her lips. She did not let him get close, but he did not want to cuddle up to her, as his friends dreamed of - on the contrary, he respectfully took a step back and offered his hand with a willingness to accept a refusal.

Everyone dreams of something incredible sometimes. Some breathe underwater without spells, some talk to the stars, some fly on wild dragons the size of a mountain or saddle a nundu.

Victor in his dreams rode a horse with the wind to the cackling of a golden eagle. Ochre feathers flew around, a heavy cloak flapped behind him, and it seemed that nothing in the world was holding him back, that if he wanted, he could even fly up after his feathered friend.

Everyone's first crush happens differently. Some fall in love with a pretty classmate, some with a celebrity. Mom, according to Uncle, was in love with a famous singer in her youth, and he himself dreamily gazed at a pretty baker.

Victor was captivated by the princess from a dream, who lived in a stone castle with a dragon in the dungeon. A girl with wrists as thin as ice and magical green eyes. With intricate embroidery on silk sleeves.

At night, he saw a story that was not his, in which he did not fly in the sky, in which he did not see the snowy northern mountains, in which he did not know the beautiful princess. And in the morning he forgot almost everything, except for the intense gaze and the scream of the golden eagle. Every night, when he went to bed, he longed for his soul to become a bird, for the wind to fill his wings and carry him over cold cliffs, for silken sleeves to spread before his eyes like mountains embroidered with white heather, for feathers embroidered with gold to open wide, for the sky to be embroidered with a clear moon. He wanted to find himself again in a distant land, covered with winter, and to sing to the princess about gods and heroes, about the ringing of swords and bloody battles - for he knew no other songs - and to receive in payment the opportunity to see her face, pale as the full moon, for what use was gold coins to him when he had her?

But she was not there. He saw a story that did not happen to him. And it was so painful that after each such dream he wanted to rush to where there was pain and fiction, but happiness, fragile as a crust, and the north wind in the wings. At night he saw mountains, but in the morning it was as if he lost his sight. Occasionally in such dreams the princess smiled at him, but this mercy hurt his heart, like an arrow over a bowstring.

It was abnormal. He should not have seen someone else's life in dreams. But he saw and did not want it to stop.

Then he grew up. He learned that his magic was in the form of a golden eagle. He took dreams for the call of the inner golden eagle. He met a girl with whom he tried to build a relationship.

He let the princess go.

He began to live his own life.

But he stopped singing, although he loved it very much as a child. Songs were taboo, because they reminded him of things he shouldn't remember.

Memory gradually faded along with the songs.

Following the call of the golden eagle, Victor flew across the sky like a bird. Day after day, night after night. He felt uncomfortable on the ground, he felt insecure without the whistling in his ears, the gusts of wind in his hair, the phantom sensation of wings.

Life went on. He studied, played Quidditch, broke up with his girlfriend, talked to friends, avoided his uncle's subtle hints about inheriting the title - something was scratching unpleasantly at the back of his mind. He became the best seeker and a Quidditch star.

Participated in the final of the Quidditch World Cup.

Saved a girl from dark wizards.

Received in gratitude a silk handkerchief, with which she tried to cure his broken nose.

Went to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament.

Met the inimitable Henrietta Potter again.

Fell in love.

Henrietta Potter had bewitching green eyes, moon-like skin, the manners of a noble lady, a sharp mind and a deceptively soft voice that hid her thorns. At first, she seemed weak and defenseless to him - she couldn't even run normally, what kind of Tournament was she even interested in? But she behaved as if she could handle everything in the world, and even the sky she could hold with her thin hands. He didn't like that a young, fragile girl was dragged into such a dangerous event. He was an adult and could stand up for himself, but she...

And she solved all the problems with amazing grace and composure. She knew when and where to retreat. With regal grace she accepted small gestures of care. Gratefully showed easy friendliness in return.

It was very comfortable to be silent with her. It seemed as if they had been doing this for a long time - sitting next to each other, doing their own thing, but together.

Henrietta Potter was inimitable and delightful.

She didn't even flinch before the dragon.

That night Victor dreamed of a dragon soaring in the sky. And the blade of someone else's sword at his face, a stormy river around him, an anxious green gaze and a gentle voice trying to convince him to leave. For the first time in a long time, he saw someone else's life again. But in the morning he forgot everything again, except for the dark bulk of the dragon above.

Victor will not lie that he realized his love immediately or after the first test. He will not lie that he invited Henrietta to the ball out of great love. No, of course not. He invited her out of deep respect for her and human interest. But he will not lie either that he did not feel male interest.

Henrietta Potter was beautiful, like a princess from ancient legends, although she was still too young for others to see it.

Victor saw.

And he drowned in the charm of the young princess with desperate hopelessness, but he felt no internal protest. He liked communicating with her, being near her. He liked leading her in a dance, protecting her from a collision and feeling her trust in him. He liked teasing her slightly and seeing her carefully concealed irritation when she did not understand what he was saying.

Victor did not regret for a moment that the teasing, which Henrietta did not even understand, turned into a kiss. It felt like the most right thing in the world. Slightly clouded emerald eyes, a light blush on her cheekbones, swollen tender lips, thin fingers in his hair, his broad hand on her sharp shoulder blades.

Her reaction to the absurd articles only convinced him of the correctness of his decision to continue and strengthen this connection.

The longer they talked, the calmer and more confident Victor felt. Next to her, the quiet feeling gnawing at him from within seemed to dissolve, and all problems became unimportant.

Gradually they got used to each other, grew into each other, without becoming dependent. On the contrary, his beautiful princess seemed to give him wings.

Victor was firmly and happily married, successful, famous. He had not been visited by painful dreams for a long time, and the longing for something that had not happened had long since disappeared.

He did not want to show up at the Christmas reception at the ministry. In principle, he did not like to appear in such crowded places, especially if it meant leaving the children at home with Etta's friend - his mother and uncle were also required to attend the reception, his father was on a business trip, and Etta's relatives were in England without the opportunity to urgently come and babysit the children. Only at such moments did Victor sincerely rejoice that Lisa had married Carmine Sanguini and also moved to Bulgaria. But leaving the children with her was still unsettling.

Especially after his son, at her instigation, almost went to check whether the dragon from the reserve would listen to him, since he was a "descendant of a dragon."

He entered the hall quietly and unnoticed, nodding briefly at his uncle's quick glance. He made his way deeper along the walls and empty buffet tables, looking for his wife.

Etta stood apart from the main crowd. In a white flowing dress and with skin that seemed to have absorbed the moonlight, she looked like an antique statue of a goddess made of white marble with eyes inlaid with shining emeralds. Her pitch-black hair was elegantly gathered at the back of her head and fell in light curls onto her collarbones covered with thin skin.

Having grown up, Etta blossomed. Now everyone could see her royal presence. Victor didn't like the way men looked at his wife and whispered about her, but he trusted Etta, and they didn't cross the line of decency - at least not enough for him to calmly intervene. Etta hadn't paid attention to such trifles for a long time. She just looked away, slightly scornfully twitching the corner of her lips at particularly harsh statements.

Victor suddenly remembered old dreams from someone else's life. And he realized that his Etta was exactly the same princess, both in appearance and character. A few years after the wedding, he realized that he had married his first love, whom he had fallen in love with in a dream.

Well, isn't it absurd? Almost like Mom's fortune telling on dumplings.

But somehow it was very right.

Victor approaches Etta, carefully embraces her waist, with this gesture alone showing everyone interested that all his plans, hands, looks and lousy tongues should be hidden away, and touches her temple covered with a black ring of hair with his lips, silently reminding his beloved wife of what she knows very well. Etta quietly steps back and weightlessly leans her back on his chest, turns her head, as if accidentally touching his chin with her nose.

Perhaps, in the evening, Victor will decide to sing for the first time in a long, very long time. He will sing to his Etta and children the legend of the beautiful northern princess surrounded by rose hips, the prince with the soul of a golden eagle and their history. In this story there will be gods, and heroes, and the ringing of blades, and bloody battles, but there will also be a quiet, understanding and accepting love that does not require sacrifice, but is ready to sacrifice and preserve the memory.

And at night, Victor will smile, hearing Etta's whisper about the dark-eyed, gloomy warrior in a red cloak on a stone throne, who she saw on her first evening at Hogwarts and appeared in her dreams before their meeting.