(1) Patrimony (H. Potter)

Chapter Twenty

As the sun rises, Rhiannon sits at the edge of the lake, her eyes closed as she meditates. She needed space to think. To prepare herself for the third task. Attila lays at her side, soaking up the spring sun. The third task is right around the corner. Four months since the last one. The whole thing lures them into a false sense of security. The quiet. The calm before the storm. Harry and Rhiannon's nightly tutoring sessions have evolved, it is less about the spells now. Now they just hang out with one another. Talking. Contemplating their muggle lives outside of the schools. Sometimes Ron joins them, others Hermione, even both of them. She doesn't have many friends, but she definitely considers the three of them hers. Ron only just making the cut. There are moments when she thinks it still bothers him that she's her father's daughter. She opens her eyes and then lets out a breath. 

.........

Rhiannon is given special permission by Dumbledore to the Gryffindor common room, mostly down to her friendship with Hermione and Harry but whatever the reason she doesn't care, it much nicer than the ship she's been stuck on all year. Harry sits at her side, joining her.

"Any thoughts on the third task?" He asks her, she shakes her head.

"No idea" She whispers. "But I have a feeling it will be the worst yet" She admits as she gets comfy at his side. The warmth of the fire on her skin. She looks at the flames and smiles softly.

"Karkaroff seems to be harder on you" He points out. And he's not wrong. Karkaroff's mood has been fouling with the competition and what he believes to be Hogwarts' and Dumbledore's attempts at cheating. Add in that she's been helping Harry.

"He doesn't like that I've been helping you" She admits and shrugs. "It's not a Durmstrang thing" She mocks and looks at Harry.

"No" He agrees. "But it does appear to be a Rhiannon thing" He points out, she snorts and shrugs.

"I can't even tell you where it comes from" She offers. "No one showed me any kindness until Viktor...." Harry's eyes sadden a little. "Muggles, as I am sure you know, aren't always the nicest when it comes to things that they....can't explain, I was the girl with the weird eyes that made things happen....and wizards, they all knew who I was....even before I did." She shrugs and glances back at the fire. "Somehow all of that made me kind and not.." She snorts a little and shakes her head.

"You know...I heard them talking, some of the other students" He offers, sensing the need to change the subject, he can read her well enough now. "They say you'll be the youngest Tri-Wizard champion there's ever been"

"Harry" She stops him. "Can we not talk about that today?" She asks him. "Can we do something or talk about something that is not tournament related?" He looks at her and then nods.

"Yeah..." He agrees. "Like what?" He then asks her, she shrugs back before turning to face him.

"Give me your hand," She asks of him, already holding her own hand out. He raises an eyebrow but gives her his hand, she pulls it closer. "Something I inherited" She starts as she draws her finger over the lines in his palm, his eyes watching the movement, his skin warming, shuddering, and he fights the natural tickle response he can feel in his spine. "My dad, he's a seer, and I have some...skill too, reading palms mostly, visions sometimes, usually of unimportant things, never anything of worth....palms are definitely my thing" She hums and looks down at his hand in hers. Her eyes suddenly shifting, void of anything. "Beware" She states but there is something in her voice, something echoing. "The Boneyard" Harry frowns and goes to pull his hand back, but she tightens her fingers around his wrist. "The Angel of Death draws closer" She lets out a breath and looks away from him, Harry switches her hold on his hand, this time holding her hand. "Sorry" She whispers. "When I touched this line" She looks down at his hand. "...It must have triggered something."

"What line?" He whispers, kind of scared of the answer.

"Your life line..." She tells him, he searches her eyes.

"What did you see?" He asks her, she shrugs.

"A dark cemetery" She answers as she closes her eyes. "There's a statue...it's a grim reaper with wings....and it's holding a scythe, I think it's a grave marker" She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I know that's not a lot..." He shrugs a little. "You don't plan on visiting any graves any time soon?"

"No" He answers.

"Oh..." She whispers and lets out a breath. They both fall silent as they ponder that vision. It doesn't seem good. How can it be good? Visions are never good. And with everything else going on, this isn't what they need. It's Harry that breaks the quiet, turning to face her.

"Will you write to me?" He asks her. "When you go back to Durmstrang?"

"Would you like me to?" She asks, turning to face him, her arm over the back of the couch.

"Yeah" He answers. "I really would"

"You are not worried about what people are going to say?" She asks. "You being friends with me?"

"No" He admits with a smile. "I think they're warming up to you" She chuckles and leans back. She nods a little.

"Warming up to me" She repeats. "Not sure that's a good thing for Durmstrang student...."

"You're not like the others" He is quick to argue. They share a warm look, she smiles at him. He's rather charming for a fourteen-year-old boy, knows just what to say to cheer her up, not many can say they know how to do that. Even Viktor struggles some times. Rhiannon shifts closer to him, leaning into his side. Harry glances down and then wraps an arm around her.