5 Chapter 5
Albus Dumbledore stood upon the stage in front of the ICW members with a grim silence, his eyes flickering through the room to make a head count.
21 out of 32 representatives were present, everyone hailing from a different country. 5 out of those will never attend again, having already come under Gellert's control. The remaining 4 were late, and Albus was not in the waiting mood today.
He had too much to do.
He gave a nod to Bellatrix Black who was presenting the United Kingdom, and another one to Babajide Akingbade, the wizard most likely to succeed him as the supreme Mugwump.
And then, he started the meeting with no more delay.
"The Supreme Mugwump calls the quadrennial conference meeting in session now." Albus started, his voice encompassing the entire hall. "I would request those still standing to kindly take their places."
A little shuffling, some tie-loosening, and a few throat clearings later, the meeting finally came to order.
"Topics for today's discussion will proceed through ranks as always, and as the supreme Mugwump I shall address the conference first."
It was mere formalities, the ones present knew exactly what to expect. But Albus also knew how important his image was currently. It would be foolish to give Gellert more ammunition than he already had.
"As you are all no doubt aware, the 422nd edition of Quidditch World Cup finals shall be held on 18th August of this year, in a muggle English city. For the final match, the attendance always surpasses the hundred thousand mark, and I doubt this year will be any different. I've come to realise that our people unfortunately do not seem to care for some random Dark lord when it comes to compromising on their favourite sport. Even if that random Dark lord is currently in the middle of world domination."
A polite smattering of chuckles broke through the spectating crowds and reporters, contrasting from the ICW members who looked annoyed and disgruntled.
Quidditch has always made wizards do nonsensical things. The popularity of the sport was just so high that even the ICW cannot do anything to neutralize the event.
"I don't believe any here need reminding what happened last time. The death toll had surpassed a thousand, and Grindelwald had achieved exactly what he wanted; a chance for a spectacle and to shed the ICW in a bad light. We are still feeling the effects of that failure four years in the future now."
A murmuring of discontent went through the members but Dumbledore forged ahead, unheeding and uncaring.
"This year will be worse. Not only has the Alliance grown in strength and number, The Tri-wizard Cup will be reignited and held in Hogwarts, despite my numerous objections. If I know Grindelwald, and I do, he will not miss a chance that is being given to him on a silver platter."
Albus spread his hands, bowing slightly. A gesture of humility rarely shown by the supreme Mugwump. "I have no more need to state the obvious. The times are desperate, and I request all present to stand united against these times of crisis, or we may see some truly dark days ahead of us."
It was a simple and to-the-point speech, something that Dumbledore was now known to deliver. He simply didn't have the time to waste on worthless pandering.
Even then, he could see his words had the desired affect over the members as they straightened in their seats.
His job done, he turned to Akingbade. "With that said, I now give the stage to the headmaster of Uagadou school of magic, Babajide Akingbade."
There was nothing else to say. Albus Dumbledore has done the best he could, giving a valuable opportunity to secure help for the ministry. It comes to Ms. Black now to handle the rest.
Of course, he didn't doubt for a second of the fierce witch's success. With or without a wand, Bellatrix Black was not one to be underestimated.
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"Stupefy!" Harry bellowed, and an incredibly powerful red flash blew away the rubber practice doll.
After dealing with his family crap, Harry had spent the rest of the day simply marvelling on his ability to walk on two legs. Using that Transfigured cane had always been a pain in the arse, making him feel like a discount Moody.
Then the next few days had passed with him familiarising himself with his new world and memories, and noting the clear differences that were now present.
The biggest was the presence of Dark Lord Grindelwald and his bunch of thugs named 'The Alliance'. Apparently, Voldemort used to be a member of Alliance, and sources confirmed that he was once being trained as Grindelwald's successor.
"Expelliarmus!" Another red jet struck the doll, and it's entire arm came off from its body.
After Grindelwald's defeat and subsequent imprisonment, Voldemort disappeared off the radar, one of the few to have escaped from the aurors. Two decades later, a mysterious wizard crushed through Nurmengard's ward and broke out the former Dark Lord.
The mysterious wizard was later revealed to be Voldemort, the new leader of Alliances.
"Diffindo!" And the rubber doll was neatly cut in two halves, though it quickly repaired itself.
Together, the two dark lords almost completely conquered the United Kingdom, even with the intervention of ICW and their new supreme Mugwump, Dumbledore.
But all of their plans came to an abrupt end with Voldemort's untimely death at the hands of Jacob Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Grindelwald ran away from UK, taking most of his forces with him, and continued his plans in South America.
"Flippendo!" The doll was launched away, spinning in the air multiple times as it rocketed off..
As of this moment, the man actually had a solid control over 7 different countries, and just needed to add 5 more countries to his count to have absolute sovereignty over the entire continent of South America.
Harry couldn't care less.
"Impedimenta!" The spinning doll slowed down to a crawl midair.
Grindelwald wasn't his dark lord, tommy was. As soon as Voldy was burried 6 feets deep underground, Harry planned to take a massive break from Darklord-Hunting and just adventure through the wizarding world on his lonesome. Actually, some lovely company wouldn't be unwelcome. Or companies, depending on his needs.
But that was for the future. Currently, he had some very irritating complications he needed to deal with.
"Depulso!" And once again the doll was banished to the other side of the room.
Mainly, his younger counterpart's absolutely foolish decision to delve in the art of Rituals.
Turns out Slytherin-Harry's talent in occlumency came not from his own 'Genius', but from a ritual. More specifically, a 7-part ritual from a book he'd found in the Chambers of Secrets– 'Salazard Slytherin's guide to ritualistic Magic'.
In general, there were three types of rituals. Individual Rituals: meaning a single ritual to gain something specific.
Advanced Rituals: A three part ritual to gain a specific combination of skills.
And Complete Rituals: also known as Sacrificial Rituals, and as name suggested they granted abilities for some sort of sacrifice. They cannot be abandoned in the middle, and must be strictly completed or else the user may suffer terrible consequences.
Obviously, the vain and insecure Slytherin had chosen the last one.
A part of him protested to being called 'Vain', trying to justify his decision at that time, but Harry pushed it down ruthlessly. He did not want his 14 year old self to explain why he thought a bigger penis was so necessary to their survival.
"Immobulus!" The doll came to a stop just before it hit the warded wall. Only this time, it froze up completely.
Merlin...did he even consider something as inconsequential as his dick's size when he was 13? He couldn't remember being this vain, ever.
Worse, this insecurity came from Sly!Harry staying around Dudley. The fat bastard had given him some magazines to experiment and...explore. Apart from the nude, bikini clad babes becoming a source of his wanking, the boy had also found an article emphasising how important a man's ability to satisfy women was, and what exactly was needed to provide said satisfaction.
The first thing Harry had done upon reviewing this set of memory was to burn those bundle of magazines to a crisp.
Cursed crap, the whole lot.
"Reducto!" The doll that was frozen midair was instantly reduced to ashes.
Now, why exactly was he so pissed at these rituals, apart from that one stupid cock-up? (hehe)
Because his younger self had fucked up in a different way. Fucked up to the very extreme.
The moment he'd found out about the rituals, Harry had started making a list in his mind: What were these rituals? what did they provide? and what was needed for them.
While he'd been pissed about his younger self almost ruining this body, he had acknowledged the advantages a ritual could provide.
His anger came not from the fact that he was trapped in some stupid magical contract, but from the fact that his younger self had been so utterly careless.
1) Enhanced Mind (X)
2) Enhanced Physique
3) Enhanced Manhood
4) Enhanced Magical Senses
5) Enhanced Magic Control
6) Enhanced Magical Power
7) Enhanced Magic Reserves
The first was already completed. For Mind, 13 year old Harry had to sacrifice a sphinx's brains, which he bought from the money provided to him by James. It seems even with Sly!Harry's harsh rejections, the man never stopped filling his gringott's account every month.
For physicality, Harry was needed to provide Sunburnt Viper skin and Troll blood.
For manhood, a Centaur's blood (Forcefully taken), and of course...nothing. Thankfully, it was just the blood of a Centaur.
For Magical Sensitivity, Dementor's Cloak (He had no idea what that was). For Control, Pheonix ashes (freely given). For Power, Dragon's Heart (Whole and Conquered).
...And for increased reserves, Obscurial's embers (Freshly Hunted).
The last one...the last one was what had caused his anger to blow. He'd reviewed the last line in his memories again and again, before finally acknowledging the fact; Obscurial's embers (Freshly Hunted).
Harry took a deep breath, occluding away the the familiar glint of panic and fury.
"Stupid brat." He muttered irritatedly, as the ashes slowly rebuilt back into the dummy.
One thing was for certain, he needed to find a way to stop these rituals without experiencing this 'Terrible consequences' thing.
They were simply impossible to complete.
How on earth did his younger self even thought that he could possibly complete them was outside his comprehension.
Oh yeah, he never considered it in the first place.
With a sigh, Harry restarted launching spells at the dummy.
Of course, he also acknowledged the fact that he might not be able to stop the rituals. In which case, he must start preparing for them as soon as possible. Which he already has.
Hopefully Bella would bring back atleast a few of these items from wherever she'd run off to...
Currently he was in a practice room that Bella created for him, familiarising himself with his magic again.
It was a round room, completely spherical, with powerful wards making it nigh indestructible. The place was a thank you gift for treating Lily kindly, which he thought was completely unnecessary.
Because there was simply no way he was rejecting his mother that day.
At first he had planned to maintain atleast a semblance of his former self, not wanting to raise any more suspicions. He'd tried being cold and distant to Lily, which he probably failed in, but gave up entirely the moment he saw tears in his mother's eyes.
Even he wasn't cold-hearted enough to ignore them.
Not that he regretted it either. Talking with Lily had been quite fun. He'd been pleasantly surprised to know that she was a senior ministry teacher, meaning that she toured around different schools of Europe, giving her expertise for a limited amount of time.
They'd spend over 3 hours talking by the time she left, and Harry had promised to join the Potter camp on 17th July, when the quidditch world cup knockouts started.
He had to admit, Lily was everything Harry had imagined his mother to be– Kind, loving, caring, and extremely smart. While his obsession for his parents had completely disappeared on the run, he had still spent time wondering what life would've been like, had they been alive.
Perhaps now he may get to experience it.
"Harry? I'm back!" Bella's yell reached him from the main hall.
He stopped abusing the rubber doll and strapped the wand back in his Holster, making his way for Bella.
The holster was a gift from Lily– made from dragon-skin leather, it fit snuggly around his arms, comfortable and practical, reducing the wand-draw time to a minimum.
She'd promised to send him 12 more gifts, one for each birthday, and was definitely planning something massive for his 14th one. Harry hadn't even tried to refuse them, knowing there was nothing he could say, apart from outright rejection, that will stop her from trying to spoil him.
To be honest, he was actually excited for these gifts. It brought back a sense of normality that he had been missing from his life since his days on the run. Even then, gifts had always been a rarity for Harry. He wouldn't say no to being spoilt a bit now.
When he reached the hall, Bella was waving her wand over the dining table, arranging plates and glasses. She looked unusually happy.
"Something good happened?" Harry asked, taking a seat.
By now he was used to talking to Bellatrix casually. He'd come to accept the fact that this woman was very different from the mad bitch that he knew Lestrange to be. This Bellatrix was...Bella. And Bella was a very fun and caring godmother.
And hot. Came the unbidden thought. A very very hot godmother.
Harry quickly occluded away the distraction, keeping his eyes locked to Bella's.
'Cursed harmones.'
"Well, the ICW is finally getting somewhere." She informed, taking a seat beside him. "Dumbledore gave a rousing speech, impressing the crowd. Though the Brazilian representative didn't take it too kindly. In his own words, 'Brazil will not be sending it's forces so some rich snots could jerk off to watching 14 grown-up wizards and witches smacking some balls on brooms. We have an actual war to fight.' So yes, not all was well. But atleast we won't be repeating the utter disaster like the last world cup finals."
Kreacher appeared out of thin air, arranged their food on the table, and just as quickly disappeared back.
"What took you so long anyway?" Harry asked, digging into the delicious food with a relish.
She didn't answer until her mouthful of steak went down her gullet. "Went shopping. The meeting was in France this time, and we had an hour before the set portkey. Unfortunately the markets in France are quite... distracting. I missed my portkey and had to book another one. Oh that reminds me, I bought something for you."
She pushed aside one of her curly lock of hairs before waving her wand at her suitcase. A small grey package came out with a snap, launching directly in Harry's hands.
"I didn't get the Centaur's blood or pheonix tears, but Viper's skin and troll Blood were available in one of the stores. I checked it already, it's authentic."
After making sure of the items, Harry looked up at Bella with a smile. "Thanks. Also for not asking the reason."
She waved it off. "It's fine, Harry. I already have some idea of what potion you are making. And truthfully, this is the least I could do for making Lily's life ten times better."
"Heh. I could get used to this."
Just when they were finished with food, Bella looked up and muttered. "There's an owl for you, I think."
She let the bird in through the wards, and it dropped the letters in its talons before flying away into the evening.
There were 3 letters, all addressed to him. He went through them one by one. The first was his 3rd year Hogwart's result.
Ancient Runes– O
Arithmancy– O
Charms– O
Defense Against The Dark Arts– E
Dueling– E
Herbology– O
History of Magic– O
Potions– O
Transfiguration– O
Harry sighed, pushing the results in Bella's awaiting hands. Now that he knew sly!Harry had used a ritual to become a genius, the result didn't seem as impressive.
The second letter was just a congratulation letter from Hogwart's, with a list of books and equipments he'll need this year. The third was a comparison list to see where he stood compared to the rest of his class.
In academics, he came 1st, followed by Hermoine and Padma Patil. In Dueling, he came 9th out of 42 students. The eight students ahead of him were– Jacob Potter, Susan Bones, Neville Longbottom, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Padma Patil, Hermoine Granger, and Theodore Nott.
Harry sighed, this time in disappointment, before pushing both the parchments towards Bella.
"Why in Morgana's name are you looking so down?" Bella asked frowning, after she was done with the letters.
"Oh, nothing." He waved it away. "I'm just a little disappointed in my...past self. The current me would breeze through these kids."
She blinked, looking surprised. "Well, confidence is one thing you sure don't lack anymore. May I ask the reason why you think these 'kids' would be a breeze for you?"
"Cause I can cast silently now? Cause I know more spells than them combined? Take your pick. I just don't see how any of them could pose a challenge."
Bella smirked. "I see. You wouldn't mind if I confirmed it, would you?"
"Sure." Harry shrugged.
The reason he was revealing so much was because he wanted people to know this. He'd been wondering if he should limit himself to a lower level to avoid suspicions, and reveal his abilities slowly...but the thought of playing hide and seek like this was just disgusting.
It will be an utter waste of time and effort. A time where he could actually try to progress further and prepare for his eventual face off against the dark lord, instead of putting effort in maintaining a lie.
As long as his name came out in the Tri-wizard tournament and he got his chance to bully the baby voldemort, he'd be fine with any amount of suspicions.
The point is, he wasn't going to act like a 4th year Hogwarts student in front of Bella. He wanted to know exactly where he stood in a world where dueling was taught since 1st year. And what he must do to be better.
