Chapter 77: 67. The Triwizard Tournament: Talks in the yellow tent
For quite a long time, Homo sapiens behaved like an upright man. From an evolutionary point of view, it was simply safer: there were more chances of survival and procreation. We still have thumbs for the same reason; the use of labor tools gave a huge advantage in the struggle for survival.
Of course, evolution didn't always leave people with useful parts only; The appendix is enough proof of this. And if we talk about magical animals, then you can brew two pots of tea at once, the conversation about them will be long.
Now just such a conversation was taking place in the Lovegood house. Although, it would be more correct to say that it never ended in their house.
"Pixies' wings are the source of their ability to fly. Magic passes through their wings into their bodies, allowing them to fly, and the wings themselves are used to control the direction of their movement."
"Are you saying they can levitate without wings?"
"They can try, but not everyone of them will succeed. Wings are a vital organ for all air-born creatures."
The conversation about wings didn't start from nothing. Danil and Luna discussed the possibility of him having new body parts and why the "heart" in Danil's chest had increased in size. They couldn't find the answer to "why?" But that didn't stop them from drawing up theories.
Perhaps, Luna suggested, that Danil, collecting parts of himself in his own consciousness, received more power and therefore the Ender Eye in his chest became larger. But then why didn't he gain more power when he learned Occlumency? The question remained unanswered, and it sounded too fabulous and romantic to be real for Danil.
Danil thought that merging with the Beast resulted in a magical release that filled his magical core with additional magic, which led to an increase. But he was using way more magic on a daily basis, how one burst could help?
As a result, someone – we're not gonna point fingers at him – talked about evolution. Oddly enough, magizoologists knew about evolution much longer than Muggles, they were supposed to know such things by profession. And Luna stated that Danil is evolving.
And after another twenty minutes of talking... well.
"That doesn't explain why I should grow wings." Danil argued. "I actually can't fly. Never even tried to."
"Because wizards came from birds. When Phoenix and Thunderbird turned into humans, from their union the first wizards appeared."
A logical question: "Why in the name of sanity did they decide to fuck?" and "How do you even know about that?" was cut off by the appearance of Xeno at the door.
"I hope you're ready, there's only ten left until the Portkey activates!"
Danil and Luna looked at each other, their things had long been collected and hidden in the teen's bottomless bags.
"Ten what?"
"Nine... eight..."
The teenagers immediately jumped out of their seats and grabbed onto Xeno, who made a portkey from his robes. Which was convenient if you were traveling alone, but quite awkward in a large group.
"Glamourus!" Danil chanted the spell and his skin color changed to white, his hands became an acceptable size.
Naturally, this was just an illusion; his real arms retained their length of almost two meters. So he won't be able to hold a feather in his hands; it will float a meter away from him and break the conspiracy.
"Let's go!" Xeno announced and the three disappeared in a swirl of clothing.
Portkey travel wasn't pleasant. Despite the development of magic and science over the past hundreds of years, not a single wizard has been able to come up with a good way to instantly move. At least one that didn't leave you feeling like minced meat, a corpse, or soot didn't exist. Danil's teleportation didn't count; only he and other Endermen could use it.
The world around the three travelers was spinning through space, as if they had been placed on a particularly huge top and launched into flight. Sometimes they were able to see pictures of the landscape flashing past, which only added to the anxiety of the two people in the company.
"When do we let you go?!" Danil shouted through the roaring winds beating against his eardrums.
"I didn't think about that!" Xeno shouted back. "Better not let go at all!"
The world stopped abruptly, only the travelers found themselves not on solid ground, but about ten meters above it. Danil immediately transferred them to the grassy earth below; he didn't want to walk around again with a bruise the size of half his body.
Luna turned away from her companions and bent in half, and Danil held the staggering Xeno on his feet. He looked a little green, but not to the point where he was emptying his stomach.
"Next time," Danil said, "I'll teleport us."
Xeno nodded, and Luna moaned pitifully something similar to agreement. No one wanted to repeat this journey.
"Where did we land?" Luna asked, looking around after a couple of minutes.
They fell somewhere south of the camp. In the distance one could already see the roofs of tent-houses with stone chimneys and other colorful tops. It could easily be said that wizards were stationed there, and if it weren't for the wards averting their eyes, the Muggle authorities would have had a huge number of questions.
"I think we need to go to where the fanfare sounds." Xeno turned to the camp and walked forward with confident steps.
Quickly passing the guard at the southern entrance – the muggle guard looked a little confused, apparently the obliviators had been busy today – the company of journalists headed towards their tent. Xeno paid someone to install it in advance. Danil wasn't surprised when Luna said that it was bright yellow.
"Oh look, Gryffindors are drinking alcohol." The girl looked with interest at Seamus, who was trying rather poorly to secretly drink firewhisky from a bottle.
"Gryff- Xeno, can you tell me who our neighbors are?" Danil asked, feeling as if a storm was approaching him.
Xeno took out a tiny piece of paper from his pocket and began to unfold it. "Let's take a look..." The piece of paper began to grow in size and stopped only when it reached the size of a marching map. "An extremely good location, quite close to the stadium and such interesting neighbors! Next to us are the Weasley, Black, Crouch and Finch-Fletchy, families. There is someone from the French delegation, but the name is not indicated here."
Whining quietly, Danil covered his face with his hands, which looked somewhat strange, given their illusory appearance; they didn't even reach his chin. Xeno shoved them into the barrel of social monsters without even realizing it! He only saw the benefits and opportunities to get more funding for his newspaper, not future problems.
For the second time, during his short stay in the new world, Danil began to pray: 'Wanderer, if you have even a drop of compassion, then may this week pass without unnecessary conflicts.'
And then he saw an acid yellow tent with glass windows and a literal smoke pipe on top. Near the entrance stood a trio of Gryffindors and a woman with black curly hair that reached down to her shoulder blades.
Monotonous laughter was heard somewhere very nearby, but no one except Danil acknowledged it.
'Thanks, bastard.'
-=-=-=-=-=-
Sometimes, our loved ones decide to give us a "surprise," which is one, but only in name. Somehow it just so happened that they wanted the best, but it turned out, as always, the worst. Maybe this was also part of evolution, only social.
Right now, Harry had no idea what he had forgotten near the colorful tent, he didn't even know who occupied it. Bella brought him, Hermione – she was now a guest in the Black Manor – and Ron here, and began to wait for something. In this state it was useless to ask her anything; she wouldn't answer anyway.
"We've been waiting for forty minutes," Ron complained, "Who's important enough to wait forty minutes for?"
"I hope not the Minister." Harry muttered in response. "Talking to him is pure torture. Every time he tries to seem like my best mate and adviser, as if I would be friends with a fifty-year-old politician."
"He will be better than Lockhart in every way." Hermione trembled in disgust, and the boys just grinned.
"Anyone can be better than Lockhart."
"Who is Lockhart?"
The three teenagers immediately turned to the sound of a familiar voice. The dry, bassy voice with a noticeable Russian accent undoubtedly belonged to the one man, who they were talking about just a few hours ago. Their eyes immediately found the group of Lovegoods and Danil, whom they recognized only due to his height.
"An author of books whose web of deception was uncovered only two years ago. He is now in Azkaban." Bellatrix replied as the teenagers recovered from Danil's human appearance. "It's good to see you all in good health, especially you, Mister Khromov. I heard you were recovering from your wounds somewhere in the forests of Ireland?"
Danil blinked. He had no idea who the woman standing in front of him was, but given her knowledge, he assumed it was Bellatrix Black. Who else could stand with the Hero of All England without even looking out of place?
"Rather, I was getting myself new ones, Miss Black. I would shake your hand, but I don't think you'll see it."
Bella examined him from head to toe, like a rare animal. Even under a couple of illusions, Danil's appearance was striking. Tall, dressed in purple dark robes that perfectly matched the color of his eyes – for some reason she was felt that he was not the one who chose his outfit – with the sharp facial features suitable for the son of an Ancient Family. But her eyes stayed on the press badge on his chest. You can't miss someone like him in a crowd, especially with a cut staff in his hands.
"You were described to me a little differently. Is this what you looked like before the curse took effect? I must say that you have very good genes." Bella nodded, ignoring Harry's uncomfortable cough behind her.
"I was a meter shorter, but yes. Luna helped me choose the appropriate spells. I don't want to scare others by walking around with my regular face."
Taking turns, everyone awkwardly exchanged greetings. The Gryffindors felt out of place, and the Lovegoods were simply constantly distracted by the festivities that were happening around them.
Harry especially didn't like his mother's "surprise". He planned to meet Danil on his own terms, and not be thrown to the Hippogriffs!
"Xenophilius, my friend, would you like to talk about the latest issue of your newspaper? The Quibbler has caught my eye over the last couple of months, especially with your new writer, the Brightest One. It seems to be the only newspaper I can read without burning it afterwards lately."
"Of course, Miss Black." Xeno quickly agreed. "Let's go to our tent, I think the children will find something to do."
Danil and Harry looked at the man with betrayal in their eyes. Neither of them wanted the conversation to take place, especially since people around them had already started pointing fingers at them. But Xeno and Bella ignored them, entering the tent with sly smiles on their faces.
"... Let's just go have some tea." Danil suggested. "Knowing the Brits, we must have a kettle around here somewhere. I've fucking hate this cheap drama, I won't let it get bigger."
He muttered, for which he received a poke in the side from Luna. "What did I tell you about swearing in Russian?"
"Swear louder so I can find my people." He answered automatically, turning towards the tent. "Come on, tea and whiskey are waiting for us. Or whiskey and tea."
-=-=-=-=-=-
Drinking tea with a man who tried to kill you just a couple of months ago is a surprisingly common thing in Russia. Well, it's to be expected from people, who, after a brutal fight, can sit down at the same table and become best friends. Violence in the country of bears and vodka was the third official language, right after Russian and Russian-swearing.
But in Britain – especially among the Magical Aristocracy – people weren't used to this. Wizards here are accustomed to harboring grudges, sometimes quarreling with each other for entire generations over a failed wedding. So, Harry didn't expect a warm welcome at all, hoping to see some kind of catch.
But here he is, sitting with a mug of tea and cookies in his hands, and Danil is right opposite him, serving as a seat for Luna. No catch in sight.
"These are some good cookies; can I borrow the recipe from you?" Ron asked, with an empty mouth for a change.
"Sure, it's not a secret." Danil waved it off. "But you'll need an oven, and as I know, wizards and electricity are not friends with each other."
"My father has been the head of the Illegal Use of Muggle Inventions Department for ten years, if not more. We've had an oven in our house for about five years." Ron grinned. "Not all wizards are as ignorant as you think."
"But some people still can't pronounce electricity correctly." Luna added, biting into her cookie.
Oddly enough, the three began to communicate like old friends. Ron was a simple guy who only held grudges in very serious cases. Luna forgave people easily, most often preferring not to waste her energy on them, and took revenge innocently enough, but annoyingly. It was no wonder that the three girls who bullied her a year ago were still finding itching powder in their underwear.
And well, this was not the first time that Danil went to a truce with his "enemies," for him it was an ordinary Tuesday.
"I can't do this anymore," Hermione finally broke down. "Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room? Don't you have anything to say to us? Accusations, insults, or even demands for an apology? Nothing at all?"
Although her words were rude, her voice was trembling. There was a feeling that the girl wanted to hear from Danil confirmation of her guilt, as if she had been waiting for punishment all summer, but it never came.
The monster boy picked up a cloudy bottle from the table and drank half of it in one sip. Despite everything, Hermione's question was reasonable. Someone else in his place would blame Potter for revealing his identity, for wounds sustained in their battle, or for sneaking into his room. But not Danil.
"What should I say? I'm in perfect condition, all of my things are where they need to be, and I wouldn't have been able to hide for long anyway. Your actions didn't lead to anything that would not happen in a couple of months by itself. Everything's good." He stopped for a moment. "Almost everything. There's nothing I can do about the fact that the whole of Britain knows my face. But you can understand me." Danil said, looking at Harry, who wrinkled his nose in displeasure.
"The fact that my name is known to every dog isn't something I'm happy about." When journalists have been hunting you since childhood, you inadvertently begin to hate them. Although Harry saw the huge advantage his fame gave him, he didn't use it often.
"I understand." Danil agreed. "Fame can be both a blessing and a curse. And luckily for me, I already have one." His voice was so full of sarcasm that even a deaf person could hear it.
Suddenly, Danil slammed his fist on the table, punching through the wood, splinters rose into the air, flying in all directions. Three wands were immediately pointed at his face. The only reason the Gryffindors didn't start attacking was the absolutely serene expression on Danil's face.
Mantis, who was sleeping in Luna's pocket, stuck his head out to check the situation, but seeing that everyone was staying still, he shrugged his shoulders and went back to sleep.
"What the hell was that?!" Harry demanded, his hand gripping the wand so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"You still don't trust me." Danil said instead of answering. "But it's not like I'm giving you a reason to start trusting me."
Hermione twitched. Even after all the words of support towards Danil, she still couldn't bring herself to believe him to the end.
"But what I said is the truth. I don't need an apology, compensation, or – Gods forbid – revenge. But if you want to continue to deceive yourself and believe that one night I will come and pull out all the hair from your pubes – please continue. Any whim for the cost of your nerves."
Harry watched Danil's movements carefully. There was something he didn't like about this attitude to life, he didn't know how one could just forgive someone for the evil they had done. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself that he couldn't have done the same. The Blacks always paid back their debts.
"What could have driven you to revenge?" Harry asked faster than he could stop himself.
The illusion of Danil's human form faded for a moment. His skin darkened, and instead of a smile, a predatory grin full of sharp teeth appeared on his face. Purple eyes flashed behind the goggles and the illusion was restored.
Hermione nudged Harry imperceptibly in the side, such questions should not have been asked to people they didn't know very well.
"... Drink your tea, Potter. He's already cooling down." Danil advised. "There are very few things that can push me to revenge. And now I have almost no one to avenge." His invisible hand stroked Luna's head, pushing her hair away from her face. "Almost."
Warily, the three friends sat back down at the table and started drinking tea again. Danil's words led them to have bad thoughts. After all, they had guessed before that the teenager had no one left, and now they received the confirmation.
Unnoticed by everyone, Luna slipped her wand back into her sleeve.
"So... About that recipe." Ron began.
"Oh, right. Write it down somewhere. First, you need to prepare the dough–"
Ron eagerly began to write down the recipe, and Danil waved a bug from his shoulder. He could have left it for Mantis's lunch, but Mantis had already eaten a double portion in the morning. So the water beetle stayed alive.
And Rita Skeeter stayed to listen to the cookie recipe. The new story was almost ready, now it was time for her hobby!
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Simple_Russian_Boi
Simple_Russian_Boi A little author rant.
The next chapter will be the last one that was written in my little notebook. After that, I will continue to write from zero again.
I thought that my notes from the "Summer Camp" would last for a long time, and that it would be easy to translate them. I was wrong. Lord knows, how wrong I was.
There is a saying that real artists continue to create even in the worst conditions. I feel like a real artist right now.
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