Under The Starry Sky

Dragon...Or Worse?

"You are a pretty difficult person to get a hold of, Mr. Potter," Anastasia said, her voice naturally a little rough.

"Get a hold of?" I asked curiously, turning a little to face Durmstrang's second champion, grateful for the conversation as it allowed a distraction from the French girl sitting beside me. "What does that mean, Miss Petrova?"

"Anastasia is fine." She spoke with a small smile, and then explained—" All of the champions were thinking about hanging out at Hogsmeade..."

"The weekend before the first task," Cedric supplied from a few seats away.

"Oui, Cedric and Gemma have both tried..." Fleur started, and my breath almost hitched as she spoke. Thankfully, my reaction was too minute and went unnoticed. "But you are quite elusive."

"Ahh— just... trying to stay away from everyone..." I explained and gave a small smile, "Can't have people figuring my strategies..."

Pierre Leroy, the second Beauxbaton champion gave a derisive snort, "Of course... You need all the luck after all..."

I fixed a fake smile on my face and said, with a tint of sarcasm, "Of course, I am a fourth year, ain't I?"

I noticed Cedric, and surprisingly also Gemma, glare at the French boy. Fleur gave a light giggle, seemingly trying to calm the situation, "Well, zere 'as to be somezing about you if ze Goblet chooses you ahead of Gemma. Wicked wiz wand, she is."

"Perhaps..." I mumbled, my eyes focusing on Dumbledore and Ollivander who had just entered the room.

I looked at the center of the room, at the velvet-covered table, where now four of the five judges were sitting — Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

"Mr. Krum, if you please." said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

I looked at the proceedings intently, wondering if everything would be the same.

Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes. "Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I . . . however . . ."

After my Hogwarts year, following the end of the war, I had learned many skills. Wandmaking and wandlore was one of them.

The only real reason I did so was to get a greater understanding about everything that happened because of different wands' interactions after Voldemort's resurrection. Many times I had only survived because of some esoteric wandlore.

Looking at the wand that Krum gave Olivander, I instinctively murmured, "Hornbeam and dragon heartstring, rigid... and very controlled..."

Anastasia looked at me weirdly, being the only one beside Fleur to hear me. Fleur didn't say anything, intently looking at Olivander's wand inspection,

"Yes . . . hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees . . . quite rigid . . . ten and a quarter inch . . . Avis!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.