Harry Potter with Technology System

The group’s attention shifted back to the Durmstrang ship as the gangplank lowered with a creak. The delegation began to disembark, led by a tall, broad-shouldered man in fur-lined robes. His beard was thick, his posture commanding, and his expression unreadable as his boots crunched against the snowy ground. Behind him, the Durmstrang students followed in two neat rows, their red robes stark against the gray sky and the dark wood of the ship.

“Here they come,” Daphne murmured, her eyes narrowing as she observed the group. “They’ve got the whole ‘menacing foreign rival’ act down, don’t they?”

“Bit over the top, if you ask me,” Blaise added lazily. “All they’re missing is dramatic background music.”

“Careful, Zabini,” Pansy quipped. “One of them might take offense and challenge you to a duel.”

Blaise shrugged. “If they’re half as intimidating as their headmaster, I’ll just forfeit and save myself the trouble.”

The tall man at the front, undoubtedly Karkaroff, strode forward with an air of authority, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd of Hogwarts students. His turned  to Dumbledore, who was already walking toward him with open arms.

“Igor,” Dumbledore said warmly, his tone carrying easily over the murmurs of the crowd. “Welcome to Hogwarts. It’s been far too long.”

Karkaroff’s expression shifted into something resembling a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Albus,” he replied, his voice smooth but edged with something colder. “Indeed, it has. Your hospitality, as always, is… generous.”

Harry shifted Luna slightly on his shoulders, muttering under his breath, “Generous like inviting a snake into your living room.”

Luna tilted her head, her silver-blonde hair brushing against Harry’s cheek. “He doesn’t look like a snake,” she said thoughtfully. “More like a fox, I think. Slippery, clever, always looking for something.”

Harry smirked at her description but didn’t reply as the two headmasters continued their exchange. Around them, the Durmstrang students remained silent, their expressions stoic as they waited for Karkaroff’s signal to move.

One of the Durmstrang boys caught Harry’s attention. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his robes slightly askew as though he hadn’t bothered to fix them after their journey. His face was unmistakable—Viktor Krum, Seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team. A ripple of recognition passed through the crowd as whispers broke out among the Hogwarts students.@@novelbin@@

“That’s Krum,” Tracey whispered, elbowing Harry in the ribs. “The Viktor Krum. Here. At Hogwarts.”

“I can see that,” Harry replied, though he was watching Krum with interest. Unlike the rest of his group, Krum seemed uncomfortable in the spotlight. His gaze remained fixed on the ground as he followed Karkaroff, his posture slightly hunched as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

“He looks… normal,” Daphne said, her tone faintly surprised.

“What did you expect? He would come in riding a dragon?” Pansy asked, smirking.

Daphne shrugged. “Something like that. He’s an international Quidditch star. You’d think he would carry himself with a bit more… I don’t know, flair?”

“Not everyone’s a show-off,” Harry said, glancing at Daphne. “Some people actually like keeping their heads down.”

She rolled her eyes. “Says the boy who’s somehow at the center of everything.”

Before Harry could retort, Karkaroff clapped his hands sharply, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “Students of Hogwarts,” he announced, his accent thick but his words clear, “I thank you for your warm welcome. Durmstrang looks forward to this tournament and the friendships it will forge.”

“Friendships,” Tracey repeated under her breath, smirking. “Right. Because that’s what this is about.”

“Play nice, Davis,” Harry said lightly, though his eyes were still on Karkaroff. “The man’s just trying to make a good impression.”

Tracey gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her attention back to the Durmstrang students, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You know, they don’t look half as terrifying as everyone makes them out to be.”

“Give them time,” Blaise said. “The tournament hasn’t even started yet.”

The gathering finally began to disperse as the professors ushered the students back toward the castle. The Durmstrang delegation followed Karkaroff.

Harry lowered Luna back to the ground once they were out of the crowd. She gave him a small smile, tilting her head slightly. “Thank you, Harry. You are more comfortable than Unicorns.”

Harry chuckled, patting her hair lightly. “Good to know I’ve got the approval of the expert on magical seating arrangements.”

Luna just nodded as though his response made perfect sense. Together, they walked back toward the Great Hall. The excited murmurs about Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students followed them like a persistent hum in the background.

Since it was a special occasion, everyone opted to sit at their house tables instead of clustering with their usual groups. Beauxbatons students chose to join the Ravenclaws, while the Durmstrang delegation naturally gravitated toward the Slytherins. Harry made his way to the Slytherin table with the rest of his housemates.

The Great Hall had been transformed to reflect the international guests, with banners from all three schools floating overhead. The enchanted ceiling had shifted to display a dazzling twilight sky dotted with stars. Long, ice-blue ribbons hung from the rafters, blending with Hogwarts’ darker greens and golds. It was clearly meant to impress, and judging by the expressions on the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students’ faces, it worked.

Madame Maxime and Karkaroff joined Dumbledore at the staff table, each taking a seat on either side of him. Harry noted how Karkaroff leaned in slightly toward Dumbledore as they spoke. Karkaroff’s eyes scanned the room every so often, a flicker of something sharp and assessing behind them.

Harry had detected the Dark Mark on Karkaroff’s arm the moment the man had stepped off the ship. He could also sense the faint pull of one on Snape’s arm ever since returning to the castle this year. Last summer, he studied the mark long enough to break it on Bellatrix and the others, so the signature was unmistakable. Still, he hadn’t brought it up with Snape yet. What exactly was he supposed to say? “Oh, by the way, I can sense the Dark Mark because Bellatrix and others think I’m Voldemort reincarnated, and to sell that idea, I absorbed Voldemort’s memories. Thoughts?” Yeah, that would go over well. Snape would either hex him on the spot or drag him straight to Dumbledore. Neither sounded appealing.

As he sat at the Slytherin table, pretending to listen to Tracey and Daphne argue over whether the Beauxbatons uniforms were practical or pretentious. Kakaroff carried himself like he was important, but Harry had seen enough politicians in the past few years to recognize the signs of someone trying too hard to appear confident. Karkaroff's glances were sharp, scanning the hall with a predator’s instinct, but the way his hand occasionally twitched toward his arm told Harry everything he needed to know. The man was scared. 'Bellatrix said the Dark Mark was re-appearing, that is how they felt Voldemort was coming back. He must have realized too.'

“Earth to Potter,” Tracey said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “You’re zoning out again. Thinking about your adoring public?”

Harry blinked, turning his attention back to her. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got that brooding look on. Stop it before you scare the Beauxbatons kids into thinking we’re all moody lunatics.”

Harry smirked. “Why? They would only be half wrong.”

“Charming,” she said, poking his side.