November 13, 1994

Deep red blood slipped off a long, pale finger to splash against the specially treated parchment. There was a focused hush, no one dared to breath or to blink as the blood absorbed into the paper. Words began to bubble fort in spikey crimson script.

"James Fleamont Potter… Lily Anne Evans."Only two names revealed themselves.

Vladimir felt a brief rush of relief. His mother wouldn't have to face any consequences from the Sanguis ritual. He enjoyed that small victory for all of two seconds until he was yanked into the embrace of a sobbing red-haired witch.

"Oh god! James! It's Harry! It's Harry, it's Harry, it's Harry," the witch was shaking like a leaf, holding him as if there was no force on Earth that could make her let go. Vladimir felt extremely awkward as he stood stiffly in the crying witches arms. He contemplated methods of escape. Didn't Amalie say something about not being able to Disapparate in Hogwarts? Pity.

"Feel free to release my son at any time," the neutral voice of Iskra Krum rang out, drawing everyone's attention. Vladimir could feel Lily Potter stiffening, although she didn't see fit to release him yet. Her sobs quieted to harsh breaths as she struggled to pull herself together. Before either of the Potter's could reply, a falsely tittering laugh filled the air, causing most of the rooms occupants to cringe internally.

"Ah, Mrs. Krum, I do believe we just received proof that Harry is the Potters son," inserted Dolores Umbridge.

Vladimir wrenched himself out of Professor Potter's arms to send Umbridge a glare. Some hack Ministry official certainly wasn't going to talk to his mother like that, and no one was going to call him Harry either. He hadn't commented on Lily's use of it because she was obviously emotionally distressed beyond belief, and he wasn't enough of a monster to correct her semantics while she cried into his hair and held on for dear life.

"All you haf proof of is that Vladimir was born to the Potters, it does not make him their son," Grigor spoke up tightly. He laid his hand on Vladimir's shoulder, a sign of comfort and possession. Vladimir gave a curt nod. It was best to make his position on this situation abundantly clear from the beginning. Sharing blood with the Potter's didn't make him their son. Lily seemed to have finished composing herself, or at least managed to convert over-whelming joy with irritation because she was quick to reply.

"Don't you dare tell me that the child I carried, gave birth too, and loved with all my heart is not my son," she practically spat. James stepped forward to stand beside his wife, his hand hovering near his wand holster.

"We've grieved over Harry's disappearance for thirteen years. We thought he was dead! He's our son! He's always been our son!" James Potter seemed to be close to shouting. Vladimir felt a strange squirming in his gut at those words. Had they missed him that much?

"Now, now. Let's all stay calm and talk this out," Dumbledore placated, gesturing to the chintz armchairs littered about his office, an invitation to sit and talk. Vladimir really couldn't help himself. He rolled his eyes.

"Be quiet, Dumbledore! Haf you not done enough meddling today?" Karkaroff sneered from his place at the back of the office. There really hadn't been much for him to do or say, so he seemed to have faded to the background to observe. Or maybe he had been doing something and Vladimir had been to busy watching his life rock at it's very foundations to notice or care. He was thankful that he had batted Dumbledore off for the moment. The last thing this explosive situation needed was the old fool.

"Grieving does not make you a father! I vas the one who taught him how to duel. I picked him up vhen he fell down. I vas there for his first day of school, his first competition, the first time he von a game of Quidditch! In all the vays that matter I am his father and he is my son. You do not get to leave him to his fate and then demand him back a decade later!" Grigor ranted hotly. His pureblood mask was in tatters around him. Vladimir's mother seemed to realize her husbands faltering control because she put a hand on his arm, a gesture that looked supporting but was more of a warning.

"Leave him to his fate?" Lily was only a few decibels away from shrieking. "He was attacked! Taken! What were we to do?" she cried.

"Choose better friends to hold your secrets," Iskra replied coolly to the rhetorical question, her face as blank as ever.

James Potter reeled back like he'd been slapped in the face. Guilt flooded his expression quickly. Lily clenched her teeth together. Pettigrew's betrayal of the Potters was well known the world over; it was why Grigor had chosen him in the first place to cover up him rescuing Vladimir from the wreckage of Voldemort's attack.

"I think we haf spoken enough today, " Grigor interjected into the ensuing silence. "If you do not mind, Viktor is still missing, and ve must find him." Grigor turned toward the door and Vladimir made to follow, feeling a little numb and hazy. The Potters seemed… hurt by his disappearance. And even though intellectually he'd always known they were probably upset to a certain extent, it was quite different to see the well of emotion dance across their faces so devastatingly open and honest.

"Now wait a minute, I do believe there is still the question of young Mr. Potter's custody," Umbridge said quickly, as though she was determined to have everything cleanly handled and wrapped up in a bow by the end of the day. Vladimir held back a sneer at her foolishness.

"There is no question," Iskra Krum stated, her voice having descended from cool to downright frosty, "Vladimir's adoption was legal and binding. I shall owl you a copy of the paperwork, but your Ministry should already have it on file."

"Don't you think it would be best that young Harry stay in the castle for the time being to reacquaint with his family while you continue the search for Viktor?" Dumbledore suggested, unable to leave well-enough alone. Vladimir gritted his teeth while it became well apparent that Karkaroff had had enough of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

"No! Absolutely not! I do not care what his name is! He is a Durmstrang student and he shall remain on the ship like all the others! We are leaving this magic forsaken castle, and no one vill be stopping us!" Headmaster Karkaroff shouted, pulling himself up to his full height and sweeping from the room with imperial grace. Vladimir felt his respect for his Headmaster shoot up a few notches as he followed him out of the room.

"That could have gone better," he said in Bulgarian, almost conversationally. His parents ignored him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Albus Dumbledore held back a gusty sigh as the Potters practically dashed from the room, seemingly desperate for a private conversation. That could have gone better. In fact, this whole week could have gone better. Viktor Krum, an internationally famous Quidditch player, had gone missing right from under his nose. There were inquiries, investigations, and aurors crawling everywhere, disrupting the students, the staff, and even the ghosts! The worse thing to occur this week, however, was the abrupt appearance of his good friend Alastor; his actual friend, Alastor Moody, not the apparently fake one that had been teaching for two months.

Alastor had missed a few meals and a whole day of classes on the ninth. Albus had gone to his office, undone the powerful locking charm, and found Alastor lying in a crumpled heap on the floor with patches of hair missing, and a powerful Confundus charm and signs of a strong Obliviation having been cast on him. His prosthetic leg and magical eye had been sitting innocently on the desk.

After thorough questioning, it became obvious that Alastor had no idea what had gone on for the last two months, and his paranoia was cranked higher than ever. Albus was almost positive some imposter had been imitating poor Alastor using Polyjuice Potion, the missing tufts of hair being his biggest clue. Albus tried to keep the whole incident from drawing any unwanted attention, but with the influx of aurors running around Hogwarts, it wasn't long before the Ministry became aware of the situation.

Albus tried not to grit his teeth in irritation. He could practically feel his creditability come under suspicion. First Thomas Potter became a Champion of the Triwizard Tournament against the rules and now he had some probably malevolent stranger impersonating a teacher, kidnapping people and leaving him without anyone to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position with!

Of course, the Ministry saw it as the perfect opportunity to make things even more complicated by insisting one of their employees fill the post. Which is why he was now staring down one Dolores Jane Umbridge: the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Oh dear, Headmaster. It would seem this will be a rather tricky situation, hmm? It's a good thing I'll be here this year, helping to smooth over all this… unpleasantness," she spoke in her saccharine voice. Albus faced the vague premonition that the ultimate source of unpleasantness this year was probably going to be her.

"Yes, Dolores, this is a rather precarious situation. May I assume you will be reporting to Cornelius with the results of the test? And the… impasse between the Potters and the Krums?" Albus asked, already knowing the answer and dreading it. He would have to be more than a little sneaky and subtle this year if he wanted to get anything done without a Ministry official breathing down his neck.

"Well, of course! The Minister must remain informed of a situation with such important public figures after all. Not to mention that this is now a conflict of international proportions! Not merely a domestic squabble," she simpered. Albus resisted closing his eyes against an incoming headache.

"Of course. Here, I believe you'll need this for your records," Albus picked up the sheet of parchment with the test results in blood. He hesitated after a moment though, looking down at the page intently. Something was… off about the magic in the parchment. Some sort of interference. Something had been altered, or perhaps… concealed? Getting no further than that, Albus handed the parchment over to an impatient Umbridge. The irregularity in the test was worth thinking about.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two hours after the meeting, James and Lily had yelled, ranted, and cried until there was almost nothing left to yell, rant or cry about. They were rung out emotionally, and laid together across the bed in Lily's quarters in Hogwarts in a pensive silence.

Eventually, Lily pulled on that inner well of courage that made her a Gryffindor all those years ago, and looked over at James.

"We need to tell Tommy." It wasn't a question. James closed his eyes tiredly.

"I know."

After cleaning themselves up a bit, James went to wait in the sitting room while Lily went to Gryffindor Tower, said the password that the whole staff knew, and walked into the Common Room. Spotting Tommy over in the corner with his friend Ron and Hermione Granger. They were all talking hurriedly and quietly, seemingly worked up about something. Lily eventually caught Tommy's eye, and motioned him to follow her out into the hallway. He said a quick good bye and hurried over.

"Hey, Mum! What going on?" Tommy questioned. Lily wondered if Harry would ever be able to refer to her as 'mum' so casually.

"I need you to come with me to my quarters in the teacher's wing. Your father and I need to talk to you about something."

Tommy's eyes widened almost immediately and Lily cursed herself. She should have tried to be a little less ominous about it.

"Is everything okay? Is Siri okay? What about Remus? What about-" Lily cut off his panic quickly.

"No ones hurt, I promise. Something has just come up and we need to talk about it as a family."

Tommy bit his lower lip and nodded. Lily sighed; this was going to be hard on him. Not only did his assumed dead brother end up being not so dead, but now he was competing against him in the Triwizard Tournament.

Lily almost stopped in the middle of the hallway with shocked dread. Oh god. The Tournament. Both of her babies were in a deadly tournament designed to be dangerous and challenging. Lily felt sick. What if one got hurt? What if they both got hurt? No. She just got her missing son back; she couldn't lose one of her children again. The pain would kill her.

Feeling rattled, Lily quickened her pace a bit, wanting to squirrel Tommy away to safety. Then she could go get Harry, no matter what the Krums had to say about it, and hide him too, and she could protect them from all of this dangerous Tournament business. Letting that fantasy carry her all the way into the teacher's wing, Lily let Tommy into her quarters, were he immediately plopped into an armchair in front of the fire. Lily joined James on the couch.

"So, what's going on?" Tommy asked immediately, looking at his parents intently. Lily swallowed harshly and looked to James, not entirely sure how to start.

"Tommy. You know what happened the night Voldemort attacked. You know about what happened to Harry," James started, sounding unsure.

Tommy immediately flinched and grimaced. For all that everyone loved to shower praises on the Boy-Who-Lived and wax poetic on the night he 'saved them all' the adoring fans never mentioned his brother. The public had more or less forgotten about him, but none of the Potters ever would. Lily knew Tommy had no memories of his twin, but he had plenty of his parents suffering the loss. And her boy, her compassionate boy, shared their pain, and mourned for the brother he would never know.

"Yeah," Tommy replied hesitantly.

"Well, we never found a… a body," it was James' turn to grimace. Even knowing what they knew now, it was still so hard to talk about it.

"We accepted his death a long time ago, but there was always a part of us that thought there might be hope, because we didn't know for sure," James trailed off, seemingly not knowing what to say. Lily couldn't take it any more.

"We found him," she blurted out. "Alive. Your brother's alive. Harry's alive."

"What?" Tommy yelped, looking completely thunderstruck. Lily could relate. Suddenly, the whole tale just came spewing forth in a torrent of words. Seeing his eyes at the feast, James' confrontation and disappointment, the paperwork Remus dug up in the Ministry, Dolores Umbridge, Harry's initial refusal to take the test, the ICW, and finally the reveal in Dumbledore's office. The only big piece she left out was the fight she'd had with the Krum's before they stormed back to the Durmstrang ship. She wasn't particularly proud of that moment; Tommy didn't need to know. All the while Tommy's eyes grew to be the size of saucers; he was flabbergasted.

"… What?" he repeated looking a bit faint.

"Tommy, Vladimir Krum is your brother, he's Harry," James surmised. Lily wondered if she had a spare vial of Calming Draught she could administer to Tommy.

"How the bloody hell did he end up in Bulgaria? With the Krums?" Tommy asked, looking incredulous, and maybe a bit hopeful. Tommy had always wanted a sibling, Lily knew, and he had missed Harry, whether he remembered him or not.

"Tommy, language," Lily corrected habitually. Let it never be said that Lily Potter didn't impose manners on her son for all situations- including the one where his twin brother came back from the dead as a famous Bulgarian duelist and the brother of an even more famous Seeker.

"We aren't sure, but according to what Remus found, the minor initial investigation from Harry's adoption, there's a chance that it may have something to do with Peter," James practically spat the traitors name. James, Sirius and Remus always referred to him as 'Peter' or 'Pettigrew' now. He didn't deserve his Marauder nickname: Wormtail. Although Sirius would always say he was more of a rat than a person anyway.

Tommy looked a little lost.

"So, now what?" Tommy asked looking lost. Lily wished she had an answer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Severus Snape was furious. He'd been manipulated, poisoned by that impudent wisp of a girl: Amalie Foss. She thought she was so clever, so very talented that she could go against him; a Dark Arts Master, the youngest Potions Master England had on record, an Ex-Death Eater and spy smart enough to wriggle out of the machinations of history's most terrifying Dark Lord. What was she? A rich, privileged child who thought a little bit of talent made her the best, made her capable of going toe-to-toe with him.

Well, he had waited on his revenge like a proper Slytherin, but now was the time to act. Right before the first task of this damn Tournament. She, like all the other stupid brats, would be distracted and not see it coming. Not to mention he was sure she had some sort of relationship with Vladimir Krum, so Viktor's disappearance could only further take her off her guard. Oh yes, he couldn't wait to see the look on her face at breakfast tomorrow.

Black eyes returned to the letter on his desk, recently sent to him by the Norwegian magical authorities, and Severus Snape smirked.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

November 14, 1994

Vladimir Krum was staring morosely at his empty plate, dutifully avoiding the Head table where he knew Professor Potter was. He had contemplated not coming to breakfast at all, but Wilhelm had more or less dragged him out of the ship, and he was feeling too numb and apathetic to really fight him on it.

He looked up as scores of birds invaded the Hall like they did every morning, carrying envelopes, packages and newspapers to all five tables. Vladimir thought the practice to be vaguely unsanitary, but he had bigger problems to deal with than Hogwarts' lagging health regulations.

A newspaper landed squarely in the Malfoy Scions hands, who was sitting across from him. It was more important now than ever to remain on Malfoy's good side so he would have an ally in the British Ministry.

He was barely aware of Wilhelm requesting to borrow the World News Section from the paper. He felt his attention snap back at the small horrified whisper that Wilhelm gave while staring at the front page of the World News Section of the Daily Prophet.

"Amalie…" Wilhelm trailed off, seemingly without words.

"What?" she questioned in Russian, still focused on her toast, only giving Wilhelm a fraction of her attention.

Wilhelm wordlessly handed the paper over for her to grab. Amalie gave him a curious look, putting her toast down and grabbing the newspaper. It took approximately fifteen seconds for all of the, limited, color to drain from her face. On a normal day in poor lighting, Amalie was so pale and thin that she looked sick. At the moment, she resembled a corpse.

She continued to stare at the paper for a solid three minutes, her breathing was shallow and quickening, her face blank of all emotion. It wasn't a Pureblood mask; it was complete shock. Amalie folded the paper precisely, rose from the table and left the Great Hall at a steady pace but with none of the dramatic grace she usually employed.

Vladimir picked up the paper and read the dramatic, black headline:

"Anaton Foss Arrested for Possible Connections to Twenty Muggle Murders." Underneath was a picture of a man that Vladimir had only met twice in chains being escorted by two Norwegian aurors. Black eyes stared hatefully out of a sharp face, Anaton Foss: Amalie's grandfather.

Vladimir's head snapped to the table he had been avoiding all morning, and he was met with the pleased smirk of Severus Snape.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Many miles away from Hogwarts a Dark Lord looked upon his newest servant.

"You know your job. You know what you must do. I will have Thomas Potter by the end of this Tournament. If you fail, I will make you beg for the end, and only once you have no more tears to cry, no more screams to release, no more pleas for mercy left in you, will I grant you the reprieve of death."

"Of course, Master," the dull tones of an Imperious victim rang through the room. In the background, Barty Crouch Jr laughed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

So, things are not going well for our protagonists. There's a reason this chapter is titled Worse. Anyway, there are a few points I thought I'd clear up because they were perhaps unclear in the story. (To do this, the Author's Note had to be super long, and I'm sorry.)

Why did Peter Pettigrew have to die? When Grigor Krum took Vladimir, he knew he was kidnapping a foreign child, so he needed an explanation in case he was ever caught. Over the next few days, he saw all the newspapers coming out about Pettigrew's betrayal of the Potters, who were practically screaming it from the rooftops hoping he'd get caught. So, Pettigrew was his scapegoat. He was also part of the reason Vladimir could have died, and a traitor, so Grigor fully intended to kill him and not feel bad about it. But the problem was that he could never find him. It was never really an issue, and he more or less stopped trying, until the Tournament, where the secret was put in serious danger. So Pettigrew had to be found and he had to die, because if he was captured and questioned under Veritaserum about his involvement in Harry's disappearance, he could honestly say he had nothing to do with it.

Should you feel bad for James and Lily? I certainly do. Vladimir was raised with a rather skewed view of them and what would have happened to him had he been raised a Potter. Although Grigor and Iskra were more or less truthful with him about how he came to be part of the family, it never really computed with Vladimir that he was kidnapped. He likes to think of himself more as saved. That view, however, is starting to weaken in the face of actually meeting and learning about the Potters.

What was the point of the Sanguis ritual if it was ultimately ineffective? The point was that it would make him look just different enough from James and Lily that someone who had only seen pictures of them in the paper wouldn't spot any connection. This failed when it was the actual Potters and people who knew them well because Vladimir so overwhelmingly resembles his father and his eyes are so identical to Lily's (it's canon) that even a few of Iskra's features added to the mix wasn't enough to curb the resemblance for people with first hand Potter experience.

I hope that cleared some things up. And now, for some shameless self-promotion. I'm starting a new Harry Potter story for National Novel Writing Month! It's called "The Curious Case of Romulus Lestrange" and the first chapter should be up within the next twenty-four hours. But don't worry! I'm not going to stop working on "The Krum Legacy." "Curious Case" might get more emphasis in November in the spirit of NaNoWriMo, but by December they will be on more equal footing. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!