Chapter Text
Draco yawned. He let Tatyana drag him out of bed to support Victor but he wished she’d let him sleep. If needing to keep up appearances weren’t so important, he’d duck deeper into his furs.
“You look like a disgruntled koshechka, Drasha.” Tatyana said, her long brown hair cascading over one shoulder. Normally, it’d be in a braid by now, but after talking with Pansy the night before, she took the younger Slytherin up on the offer to do her hair. Her blue eyes flashed with laughter as he turned to glare at her.
“Shut up.” Was all he said, wanting to speed up to the castle. Karkaroff wasn’t with them – thank Merlin – but the older students seemed fine with dilly dallying, as they took in the grounds of Hogwarts. In his opinion, Durmstrang was better, even if the castle and all its spires painted an impressive picture. He was looking forward to being allowed to fly after noon. And being allowed to have tea time. It wasn’t a thing in their school, so close to Scandinavia, so at home during breaks was the only time he’d be allowed to take a break and get a cup of tea.
Which he could really use. Scotland wasn’t as bad as school, but Scotland in October wasn’t exactly fun. 4 years and he still wasn’t great with cold temperatures.
The doors to Hogwarts were open and he followed up the stairs towards the Great Hall. They didn’t shed their furs, though they did unbutton them to leave them open, some even pulling off their hats, basking in the warming charms. Hogwarts students stared, no doubt in awe of their presences, especially with Victor in the middle, silent and focused. After the World Cup, during the after party before everything went to hell, Draco had asked if he planned on taking part in the competition. Being the youngest Seeker, Victor took pride in his school work, so Draco wasn’t at all surprised he’d been chosen as part of the delegation, even if they ignored his fame. But the Bulgarian teen hated the attention that came with it, so Draco was surprised he was actually considering putting his name in the Goblet.
“Everyone thinks I’ll be going because of my name. I just want to prove I’m worthy of how far I’ve come.” He’d told him in Bulgarian, surrounded by his Quidditch teammates, most of whom didn’t speak to him because of his age. Victor had few friends and so much expectation on his shoulders. Draco was sure he’d make a perfect Slytherin but when he got like that, desire to prove himself, Draco could see him as a damned Gryffindor.
Walking into the Great Hall, the set up was different. The Goblet stood in the centre; a gold circle drawn around it. the blue flames cast off of the floating pumpkins. Just past them, within the clouds of the enchanted ceiling, Draco could see the fluttering of bat wings. The others in Slytherin said Halloween was always designed to impress.
“But something always happens. First it was a troll, then the Chamber opened and petrified Flinch’s horrible beast and then Sirus Black broke in!” Pansy had told him the night before. “It’s like the day is cursed!”
He planned on inviting her and the others back to the ship after the names were drawn, for their Samhain celebration, if only to give them a good experience. He still couldn’t believe that Samhain had been overshadowed by Halloween, like the Muggle-driven Halloween. He was all for costumes and candy, but the holiday had significance within wix culture.
With the Goblet sitting in the middle of the hall, the long tables were now gone. Instead, elevated benches, much like the stands for Quidditch, formed a semi-circle on either side. It gave those sitting a clear view of those dropping their names in, making it part of the sport itself. On either end of the hall, tables of breakfast food and drink were laid out for people to grab. Draco was just glad he saw plates and cutlery as well; he was not risking getting bacon on his robes of furs. They were a pain to wash and clean and they’d have to wait till the end of the week for them to be cleaned as they normally were when at school. Hogwarts had house elves, they had Brownies and so far from their main source of magic, they were going to move slower.
He found Basil and Theo sitting on one of the benches, food half eaten as they watched the older Durmstrang students approach the line, slips of parchment in hand. Victor went first, some of the more boorish boys – like Poliakoff the Annoying; Draco didn’t care if he was one of Victor’s oldest friends – cheering as the Goblet let out a spark, which got the others to go next. Basil handed him a mug, the coffee still hot.
“I love you.” he moaned, willing to burn his tongue to take a sip. “Mm, is this Italian coffee?”
“Mama sends her love. I owled her last night that you were here and she sent this over with Stella this morning.” Basil said.
“Remind me to tell your house elf I love her.” Draco said, sitting on the bench below the others, savouring the coffee.
“Leave the poor elf alone. She’ll go into another crying fit again.” Theo scolded. “are you the only extra student awake?” he asked, noticing all the other Durmstrang students forming a group again after dropping their names in.
“Be thankful.” Draco said, waving Victor and Tatyana over. “Less people to gawk.”
“You did miss a delightful display by an underage Hufflepuff. The Age Line certainly tries to give a boost in helping you be older.” Basil mocked.
Tatyana finally shed her fur jacket, showing off their school’s red robes. In choosing between Hogwarts’ uniforms and theirs, Draco admitted he preferred the Hogwarts uniform. Their own red robes were formfitting, long and had an attached cape that would make Snape proud. Hogwarts students had different ways of showing their houses from vests and cardigans, skirts and waistcoats. A decent number of students were even wearing knitted hooded sweaters. If Durmstrang students weren’t in their red robes, they were in the muddy brown shirts and pants that were considered the casual uniform.
“You remember Theo and Basil.” Draco said, taking one last sip of his coffee before it was stolen by Tatyana.
“Good morning.” The female student greeted. “Hm, this is good. Deep. Drasha, you say English coffee is bad.”
“It is. This is Italian coffee.”
She handed the cup to Victor, who sniffed it before shotting the rest of it. Draco would have been surprised if he’d gotten any back.
“Wow. I’ve only ever seen people do that to espresso.” Basil remarked, eyes wide.
“I told you he wasn’t normal.” Draco said. “Do you plan on sitting here the whole time to watch everyone put a name in?”
“I’m only staying until the first Hogwarts student.” Theo said. “Mad Eye can’t stand us, so I’ve a few essays to write in advance.”
“I’m hoping to offer guidance to the invited students from the visiting schools. Specifically, Beauxbatons students.” Basil said, smirking into his toast, not getting a crumb on him. Draco knew him for years, and he still couldn’t figure out the spell he used to do that. Though, meeting his mother, maybe Zabinis just didn’t get crumbs on themselves.
Tatyana rolled her eyes. “Men. Same all over.”
“He’s worse, I promise.” Draco said, laughing when Basil kicked him. “Breakfast?”
“Not Musiel?” Victor asked, nose scrunching. The athlete wasn’t a fan of the overly involved yogurt mix.
“No. Mostly toast, but I’m sure they have porridge if you want.” He offered, getting up and leading his schoolmates to the food tables. Like he promised, the spread was simple, no doubt to not overwhelm the visiting students. He wished he was back at the manor, where French pastries would be on the weekend breakfast menu, but he made due with spotting a pan au chocolate. Victor had people staring at him, girls pushing each other to be the first to stand next to him as he filled his plate with eggs. Tatyana put a stop to it with a glare.
“You’re going to start rumours again.” Draco said, pouring a goblet of pumpkin juice.
“The boy hasn’t even eaten breakfast.”
“Perhaps eating on ship would be easier.” Victor said, his shoulders rising higher to avoid the gazes of adoring fans.
“Might as well get used to it. they’ll be staring more at dinner. Just stick with the Slytherins. They’ll hold knowing you over everyone’s head to bother you. no one likes being called a hypocrite.”
Pansy eventually made in appearance, in a green sweater dress that draped her body in a way that the other male Durmstrang students stared. Tatyana made a compliment in Russian Pansy didn’t understand but understood the intent of before tying the Russian girl’s hair into a halo braid. Draco lost his best friend to his oldest, Victor ducked back to the boat and the other Slytherins were heading off to do homework. Draco decided to explore what would have been his school if his mother had her way, leaving just as he caught sight of Potter and his gang rushing down the stairs. Weasley didn’t notice him, which was for the best. No one needed to be subjected to his yelling so early in the morning.
“Where did you go?” Victor asked when Draco eventually returned to the boat, books in hand.
“Exploring. The stairs really move. I was trying to head up to the seventh floor and I got lost because the staircase I was on moved when I was halfway up.”
Victor followed him to his cabin, a single thanks to his father. the Malfoy name didn’t mean much within the halls of Durmstrang - which was a shock during his first year - but his father knowing the headmaster had its slight advantages. Draco dropped the books he checked out from the library on his bedside table, finally stripping his furs off, pulling his robes off next. Technically, they were supposed to stay in their casual uniform on deck unless inside your room, but the students weren’t planning on listening to that rule unless specifically told. After changing into a stolen Slytherin ‘spirit’ shirt and joggers, he flopped onto the bed, regretting it when it didn’t bounce as much.
“What is that?” Victor asked, looking at the shirt.
“It’s a trend of shirts that the houses have now. Apparently, a muggleborn student’s parents are big on school sports and were very surprised Hogwarts didn’t have stuff like this for students to wear for game days. Next thing they know, they’ve written to at least 3 different shops that supply robes and uniforms to the school and just like that, they’ve become a part of school tradition. There was also something about footy-ball, but I have no clue what that meant.” Draco explained.
“Hmm,” Victor hummed. “Get lost in the library again?”
“Don’t know why you’re judging. You dragged me there enough times as a first year. You might like this one. The librarian is a true witch, if you know what I mean. Will throw you out at the first hint of noise.”
Victor hummed again. “Small mercies then. All Runes books?” he asked, looking at the spines of the books. He pulled one out from the middle. “Magical items?”
“You can’t tell me you’re not curious about the Goblet. I thought it would be covered in jewels when my father explained it, not a simple wooden cup.”
Victor was silent throughout Draco’s whole explanation and theory of the Goblet. It had always been like this, ever since he met Victor. Each first year was assigned an older student to ask for help and around the time, Victor was starting to get noticed by teams. Draco, nervous about being at a school where his name had no power and he didn’t know anyone, latched onto Victor. The 13-year-old didn’t complain, letting Draco fill the silences with his questions as he got more and more into the inner workings of spells and magical items. With a wand that wasn’t useful for Dark Arts, Draco would figure out how the spells worked to find a way of getting them to make sense with his wand.
“Seems a bit much for a magical equivalent of a glove in a ring.” Victor said after listening to Draco. He eventually sat on the blonde’s bed.
“It’s more than that though. It has a living conscious to go through all the names and pick the one with the best and strongest magic, all from the aura left on the slips of paper.”
“Ok, but what if say, I write your name and drop it in and it calls you?”
Draco shook his head. “No. Victor, every fibre of our being is embedded with our magical signature. You could write my name, but any competent wix can check it and see it’s not my signature. It might get fooled by names, but not magical signature. I’m sure there is a way to trick it, but let’s be real. This is an item with a conscious, able to discern magical signature and use said signature to lock those who gave their name into a contract that can’t be broken. Like, if they try to run away from it, it twists their magic until they fulfil their end of the deal, completing the tasks. To run away would leave them a squib. If it was tricked, they could swear on their magic. The Goblet should have no choice but to obey what was said and start the process over again. I don’t even know what it would do if one of the names didn’t compete because it can’t let them out of the fight.”
Victor hummed, looking a bit lost. Victor was all for studying and checking for answers but not so much the research of theories. Draco was just happy he’d listen to him. He needed someone to off load the information onto. Victor continued to listen until bells started to chime throughout the boat. They were leaving in 5 minutes for dinner and the drawings. Draco looked over at Victor, who’s face took the same hard look it took during matches.
“Ready Vitya?”
He gained a glare but Victor’s shoulders loosened some. Time to see who was getting sent into battle.
It didn’t make any sense. Harry Potter couldn’t have gotten his name in. maybe by an older student but from what Draco’s friends told him, Potter seemed to cringe from the idea of attention.
“He just never does any good with what he gets. I mean, Gryffindors can do whatever they want and not get punished and he doesn’t even question it. he could totally change the way Gryffindor is seen by being understanding and impartial, not oversized muscle heads who suck the headmaster’s dick.” Pansy had complained one summer, leaving a nasty mental image.
When his name was called, Harry Potter looked stunned. He looked ready to run away. That wasn’t someone who got his name in.
“Drasha. Draco!” Tatyana called him, snapping him back. They’d been sent back to the boat the minute Potter went into the side room with the rest of the teachers and judges, but Draco claimed he’d wait for Victor. What he really wanted was a look at the Goblet.
“It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Drasha.” Tatyana said tiredly, like a parent with an overexcited child.
“No! Tatyana, I’m serious. Potter is in Hogwarts; the Goblet should only be calling on three students. The only way he’d have been chosen was if he was considered to be in a separate school. If not that, then he would have been picked over Diggory.”
“You can’t know that. He easily could have gotten a student to drop his name in. what if he’s a good actor?” Tatyana suggested.
“Him? His face is an open book.” It wasn’t a good excuse, Draco knew his father could trick people easily, but he ignored that for now. “The Goblet is centuries old. It’s alive. It…it could have been Confounded.” It was a random thought that came to him but it made sense. It had a conscious mind, able to sort through the names and the schools. It was told the schools, had it set before names were entered. No other school should have been added, not when the flame was already lit. for Potter to even be picked, the Goblet had to think there were 4 schools, the Potter was the only person in his school to even be picked. The age line was something the Ministry decided, not the Goblet, so the fact that Potter was a full 3 years younger wouldn’t matter to it. “I need to see the Goblet.”
“Not a chance. Karkaroff won’t allow it and certainly not the rest of the staff and judges.” She tried to reason.
The door opened and the Champions were being escorted out. Draco looked past the haunted look of Potter and the confused and angry faces of the other Champions to spot the figure in black. “There might be someone. If Karkaroff or Victor asks were I am, lie.”
Draco hid near the door, using a spell to hide in the shadows. It was just the Headmaster, Moody and Severus left when it got quiet again.
“Mister Malfoy?” Professor Dumbledor asked, not looking at all surprised when the shadows left Draco. He ignored the new Defence teacher, already knowing the stories the Slytherins told him.
“Apologies Professor, but my mother told me to come find Severus if I wanted to spend the night at home and given what we’ve heard tonight, I can’t see why she wouldn’t want me home for a while.”
“This isn’t an order service.” Moody snapped.
Draco gave him a blank look, staring at his shoulder to not look at his scared face and moving eye. “I don’t answer to you. I’m not one of your students. To be honest, I don’t even have to ask the Headmaster. Severus, I’ll be waiting in your office.” He turned and walked away, down halls he’d only explored that morning.
Thankfully, his friends’ stories were always heavily detailed, so getting to the dungeons and finding where Severus’ room was, only took two wrong turns. Every portrait he’d passed ignored him, intent on gossiping about what happened. word was Hufflepuffs were up in arms, Slytherins with them because they got along with them and they hated Gryffindor and said house of lions was divided. Half celebrating the other half hating Potter. He didn’t know Potter, only what he learned from his friends, but in this competition, no one deserved to be thrown in without any reason. He needed to know how it happened.
He hadn’t been inside the living area of Severus’ room for very long when his godfather came in.
“And what exactly, was that?” he demanded to know.
“I need to see the Goblet.”
“Have you gone absolutely mad? This isn’t some toy Draco.”
Draco rolled his eyes at the lecture. “I know. it’s a conscious item. One that had to be Confounded.”
Severus’ brow furrowed at what Draco said. “Confounded? Don’t be ridiculous. Potter put his name in the Goblet.”
“Did he say he did?” over summers, whenever his godfather would come to check on his potion skills, making sure the things he taught him as a child hadn’t gone out the window at Drumstrang, all Draco would hear about was how much of a brat Potter was, how his godfather hated having to keep an eye on him, whatever that meant. Even though Draco enjoyed hearing about the stuff his friends had to say about the famed wizard, it got old quick hearing it from his godfather. He knew the man hated James Potter and the same went to his child but he needed Severus to see past that.
Severus let out an annoyed huff. “Moody gave us this explanation already.”
Draco tried not to get annoyed that the paranoid Auror thought of it first. “Did he say how it was done? The Goblet is centuries old, made of old magic. That is hard to fool.”
Severus stared at him before sighing. “Fine. how do you think it was done?”
A mix of Runes and the Confundus Charm. The Goblet was old, locked the contestants into a duel by locking the magic signature left on the parchment. If they pulled out without fulfilling the requirements, it would destroy their magic. But, there was a way to have it call off the whole duel.
“It’s conscious enough to go through each signature and pick someone it thinks it the best representation. For the Tournament, the heads of schools had to give requirements of what their Champion should be like correct? A physical representation of what the school is?” his godfather nodded. “Victor, works hard for his position, continues to show he deserves it, is willing to go against anyone who insults him – unless they’re me of course. Fleur, I don’t know much about her, but she’s 100% part Veela. Probably has to prove herself all the time. She was one of the ballet dancers during the opening performance, so she’s dedicated. Diggory? I know his father never shuts up about him and he’s a Hufflepuff, so it’s common knowledge they’re scarier than you give them credit for.”
“What about Potter? Arrogant and stubborn?”
“What about nothing at all? That Goblet was left alone, with no one around, when everyone was asleep. You guys are constantly doing patrols, whoever did this couldn’t risk getting caught. No, they probably left it open for Potter. They had to of made a new school for Potter to be picked. If not, he would have been picked over Diggory. But what would have clued the Goblet in was if Potter contested against his school. The easiest way would be by swearing on his magic the school didn’t exist and he never put his name in. the whole duel would of be null and void and would reignite to be reset.”
“Except swearing on your magic is considered Dark.” Severus reminded. “Unbreakable Vow, the branding associated with the Dark Mark, anything that can affect a person’s magic like that is considered Dark. The Goblet itself is pushing it but it provides entertainment and people are willing to ignore that.”
People were willing to ignore a lot of things if it made their life better. Growing up had him believing that Muggleborns were the worst because of their blood. He didn’t love Muggleborns, but he wasn’t stupid to ignore why Magic choose them. it was the insistence in ignoring the culture they’d been brought into that grated on his nerves.
“But swearing would have solved everything. It would have proved he was telling the truth; it would have gotten him out and you can’t tell me this didn’t cause an incident with other headmasters. I know Karkaroff had to be pissed. Victor is like his golden child and Potter is younger than him and the youngest Seeker to be on a Hogwarts team in a century. I know it pissed him off. If it can be proven the Goblet was Confounded, any Cursebreaker specializing in Runes and Antique Magical Items can easily get the Goblet to realise it made a mistake. Is the Ministry really going to let a 14-year-old just take part in a contest where people died?” Severus stared at him with a blank expression. “Wait, you can’t be serious.”
“Dumbledore insists we must obey. I can’t let you see the Goblet, but I can bring you information. Hopefully Moody didn’t make a mess of anything while we were gone. Stay here.”
Severus left and Draco dropped onto the couch. The others would lose their minds when they found out he was searching for a way to get Harry Potter out of the Tournament. Maybe a different version of him wouldn’t have cared how it was done, joined in cursing his name and planning on making his life miserable. Honestly, he was tempted to do just that but life at Durmstrang had changed him in ways most of his friends didn’t seem to know. if Draco ever looked as scared as Potter did, all he’d want was someone to help him, even if it was something as simple as proving innocence.