0425 Relatives

0425 Relatives

At the entrance of the palace-like tent, Draco stood in an impeccable suit, raising an eyebrow and casting a slightly mocking gaze at Harry, whose head had swollen due to the bubble gum Ginny had given him. Draco completely ignored the fact that two of his former professors were standing right in front of him.

"What's going on, Remus?" Sirius asked in a low voice, his brow furrowed deeply as he addressed Remus, who was currently engaged in a silent standoff with Narcissa Malfoy.

Remus pressed his lips together. His amber eyes reflected a mixture of exhaustion and helplessness. Running a hand through his prematurely graying hair, he replied in a hushed tone, "It's Kreacher. He took it upon himself to invite your... to be a guest in the tent. I noticed the commotion outside, so I came to investigate."

"That disloyal traitor!" Sirius cursed without restraint, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he fought to control his temper. "Where's Kreacher now? Where did the little backstabber run off to?"

Remus's expression softened slightly at his friend's outburst. "I've already sent him to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you all," he said, trying to diffuse the situation. "I thought it best to keep him occupied and out of sight for now."

Sirius, whose complexion was already darkened from over two weeks of sunbathing at sea, turned an even deeper shade. The tan that had given him a healthy glow now seemed to emphasize the storm brewing in his eyes. With a determined set to his jaw, he strode past Remus, taking his place in the tense standoff with Draco's mother.

"You're not welcome in my tent. Leave!"

Faced with Sirius's harsh rebuke, Narcissa showed little outward reaction, but a keen observer might have noticed the slight tightening around her eyes and the almost imperceptible lift of her chin.

Draco, however, was not nearly as adept at hiding his emotions. His pale face suddenly flushed an angry red, the color creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. He glared at Sirius with unbridled fury, as he seemed about to step forward to defend his mother's dignity. However, Narcissa's hand, adorned with glittering rings, shot out to hold Draco back.

Simultaneously, Arthur his kind face etched with concern, moved to restrain Harry and the others who were instinctively edging forward to join the fray. His hand gently pushed against Harry's chest, and he shook his head slightly at the boy, whose swollen features did nothing to mask his determination. Arthur's voice was soft but authoritative as he said, "Let them handle it, Harry. You youngsters shouldn't interfere in adult matters."

Hermione, her bushy brown hair even more wild than usual in the morning air, frowned deeply as she stood behind Arthur. In a low voice that barely carried to those around her, she asked, "What's going on? That's Malfoy's mom... She seems to know Sirius?"

Harry blinked, finally realizing as he watched the cold confrontation between Sirius and Malfoy's mother that they might indeed know each other. Before he could voice his confusion, Ron spoke in a rather disdainful tone:

"There's nothing strange about that, is there? Sirius's family is very famous and Pureblood wizard families have been intermarrying for hundreds of years. If you trace it back far enough, even Malfoy and I are relatives!"

The last part was said with a grimace, as if the very thought left a bad taste in his mouth.

Even with his eyes squeezed into slits due to his swollen face, Harry still managed to widen them in shock as he stared at Ron. The fact that Ron was actually related to Malfoy, even distantly, was quite a surprise to Harry. It made him realize just how little he truly understood about the complex web of relationships in the wizarding world.

"Your tent—" Narcissa Malfoy's voice cut through the air like a knife. She seemed to have originally intended not to speak to Sirius at all, but his rude tone appeared to have pierced her icy facade, igniting a spark of anger. She put on a disgusted expression, as if she had smelled something unpleasant.

Narcissa's gaze swept over the tent left behind by Sirius's father, her eyes narrowing as if she were examining a particularly offensive piece of rubbish in a second-hand market. Her lips curled into a sneer as she took in every detail of the once-grand structure.

To be fair, Sirius's tent was still quite impressive in its own right. Its style didn't pale in comparison to the other luxurious dwellings that dotted the campground. The fabric was a deep, rich burgundy, embroidered with intricate golden patterns that seemed to move and shimmer in the early morning light.

However, the ravages of time and neglect were evident upon closer inspection. The fabric, while still rich in color, was tattered at the edges and bore unmistakable signs of moth damage. Patches of the once-vibrant embroidery had come loose, leaving gaps in the elegant designs. The ropes and poles that held the tent upright showed signs of wear, and there was a general air of mustiness that showed years of neglect.

Narcissa lowered Draco's arm. She gazed deeply at Sirius, as if trying to memorize his face, then put her arm around Draco's shoulders and raised her voice slightly.

"Let's go, Draco, We'll visit the Greengrass family's tent. I'm sure they'll provide much more... suitable company." Her pause was deliberate, her next words chosen with surgical precision to inflict maximum damage. "There's no need to argue with a criminal from Azkaban and a werewolf. It's beneath us."

The effect of Narcissa's words was immediate. The crowd, which had been murmuring quietly amongst themselves, suddenly erupted into a cacophony of gasps, exclamations, and hurried whispers. Many of the foreign wizards, who had been drawn to the confrontation out of simple curiosity, now looked at Remus and Sirius with undisguised terror.

The more timid members of the audience began to back away, their eyes wide with fear as they regarded the two men as if they had suddenly transformed into dementors before their very eyes.

Faced with people's pointing and whispering, Sirius and Remus looked grim. However, they couldn't explain anything to these uninformed foreigners, especially since, in a sense, Narcissa Malfoy wasn't lying. Remus was indeed a genuine werewolf, and Sirius had indeed spent a third of his life in the infamous Azkaban.

"Stop right there, Malfoy!" A sudden surge of anger welled up in Harry's heart. He raised his wand again, shouting at Malfoy's back.

Draco, who had been allowing his mother to guide him away from the confrontation, paused at Harry's call. He turned slowly, a sneer already forming on his face. As he took in Harry's ridiculous appearance, the sneer morphed into a look of malicious amusement.

"You look quite amusing, Potter, Oh, planning to make a grand appearance at the World Cup, are you?"

Draco was thoroughly satisfied with Sirius and Remus's embarrassment and he wasn't at all concerned about Harry's raised wand. Perhaps it was the presence of so many witnesses, or maybe he simply couldn't take Harry seriously given his current appearance. Whatever the reason, Draco's posture remained relaxed, almost lazy in its arrogance.

With a final sneer, Draco turned away, following his mother without so much as a backward glance as they disappeared around the corner of a nearby tent.

As soon as the Malfoys were out of sight, the crowd's attention snapped back to Harry.

"Potter? Is that Harry Potter?" The question rippled through the crowd, passing from person to person in an excited hush. Eyes that had moments ago been wide with fear now shone with curiosity and admiration.

"It is him!" someone else confirmed, their voice tinged with wonder. "Even though his face is swollen, I saw his scar when he raised his wand!"

"Oh, he's the one who defeated You-Know-Who!" The exclamation came from a wizard with a thick Eastern European accent. He turned to his companion, tugging excitedly on the sleeve of their robe. "Cam, quickly get my camera. I want to take a photo of Harry Potter. Your mother has always been curious about him!"

The mention of cameras seemed to break a dam, and suddenly there was a flurry of movement as people began rummaging in bags and pockets for their own magical cameras. Although people were afraid of werewolves and criminals, the foreign wizards who had just backed away couldn't resist their curiosity and slowly began to approach.

"Quick, get inside, Harry—" Harry stood dumbfounded, not expecting so many foreigners to have heard of his name. Hermione, the first to come to her senses, grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him towards the tent.

Harry allowed himself to be led, still blinking in confusion at the rapid turn of events.

"Huh—" Sirius took a deep breath, running a hand through his dark hair in a gesture of mixed exasperation and resignation. "Let's go, Harry, we'll talk inside."

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