December 3, 1992, 3:00 PM, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts
Adam Clarke
The crowd roared with excitement, their cheers blending into a cacophony of anticipation. Griffiths’ voice narrated the crescendo of enthusiasm, recounting the intensity of our previous matches during the preliminary stage.
Yet, my focus narrowed, the animated faces in the stands fading into the background. Taking measured steps forward, I honed in on the position ahead of me where Dakarai DeLumiere awaited.
The other boy towered over me; despite his height, however, Dakarai’s frame was lanky and nimble, giving him an air of agility and grace. His features were distinct, a visage that was both striking and distinctive, reflecting his heritage.
Some French ancestry, judging by the name?
Dark, expressive eyes reflected a keen intellect, and his features conveyed a certain confidence that spoke of his prowess in magical duels.
Dakarai and I exchanged bows, but beneath the surface, there was a raw edge to the way he looked at me, an unspoken understanding that this duel would be far more difficult than the one I had undergone before.
Hien had been pretty interesting to fight against, but hopefully this new opponent would fare even better.
Unbidden, the ground beneath our feet trembled as the arena underwent a dramatic transformation, causing the both of us to shift in surprise, distracted by our surroundings rather than our face-off.
The once-smooth tiled surface gradually morphed into a rocky terrain, complete with uneven ground and jagged rocks. A small pond emerged to the side, adding an element of unpredictability to the battlefield.
The rocky landscape extended in all directions, creating a challenging environment for maneuvering and casting spells. The air was charged with the scent of damp earth, and the sound of the flowing water underscored the surreal nature of the magical transformation.
As the crowd erupted in cheers, their appreciation echoed through the rocky expanse. The cheers melded with the palpable excitement.
Coordinator Griffiths’ voice cut through the crowd’s cheers, pulling our attention back to the present. Once again, she inquired if we were ready, and Dakarai and I exchanged determined nods
Our focus shifted back to each other, keenly aware of the transformed terrain that now stretched before us. The rocky expanse demanded caution, and we both knew that every step needed to be calculated.
Uneven ground. I thought. Forces us in different situations and allows for the terrain to be a factor in my or my enemy’s performance, which gives the battle itself more spice.
I began to shift my position to the left, knowing that, to my right, there was a veritable carpet of jagged rocks— a dead zone I could not step into without needing to use Transfiguration to soften.
Dakarai wasted no time, unleashing jets of vibrant green, yellow, and blue from the palm of his hand. His wandless magic flowed seamlessly through constant, dance-like motions, so far above my own skill that it wasn’t even funny. The colorful streaks of magic arced through the air, each spell carrying its own potential for danger.
I sidestepped the first, before deflecting the second and third, sending them crashing into the rocks to my right.
Responding swiftly, I countered Dakarai’s flashy onslaught with a series of spells, each incantation accompanied by quick, precise wand movements. Stupefy! Expelliarmus!
Dakarai, fast and nimble, dodged a spell before raising a protective shield to deflect the others. Undeterred, he advanced toward me with purpose, my followup salvo washing over his shield like water over stone.
The pressure mounted as Dakarai continued his relentless advance, a confident smile playing on his lips. My mind raced to formulate a response that would shift the momentum in my favor.
And so, I channeled my focus into a Banishing Spell. The wave of power rippled through the air, striking against Dakarai’s shield with a forceful impact, and I watched as he skidded backward, struggling to maintain his footing.
His wide eyes turned to one of shocked surprise as he fell over, his face smashing into the uneven terrain as he attempted to right himself. A collective cringe rippled through the crowd. Gasps and murmurs of shock filled the air, a chorus of sympathy for the momentarily fallen wizard.
Coordinator Griffiths, the voice of the dueling arena, acknowledged the harsh landing.
“That was quite the hard drop there.” She commented, her tone a mix of concern and observation. The atmosphere hung in suspense as everyone waited to see how the duel would unfold.
As I stood on the dueling stage, I heard Griffiths’ next words, acknowledging what she perceived as good sportsmanship on my part, the approval in her voice resonating through the magical arena. The crowd responded with a mix of appreciation and applause, recognizing the fairness in allowing Dakarai a moment to recover.
Dakarai wasted no time in getting back on his feet, showing a few scratches on his face for the trouble. The rocky terrain seemed to offer him some hindrance as he rose, dusting himself off with a composed nonchalance.
What struck me more than his relatively quick rebound was the absence of any acknowledgment or gratitude in his demeanor. No glance, no nod, just another hard, if slightly more cautious look.
A minor annoyance flickered within me at the lack of reaction, but I swiftly pushed it to the back of my mind. The ongoing duel demanded my full attention, and any personal sentiments had to be set aside in the face of the high-speed magical exchanges I was about to make with this fellow student.
The voice of Coordinator Griffiths once again became a distant hum in the background as Dakarai wasted no time, launching into a relentless offensive, seeking to regain the dominance he had lost with his earlier fall.
No, you’re not coming back so easily. I thought with a challenging smirk. With a quick reaction, I deflected the first two spells and retaliated with a Severing Charm before he could get his third off. My counter didn’t quite find its mark, clipping him in the shoulder and halting his advance in its tracks.
Gritting his teeth, Dakarai tried to flank me, snapping off a flurry of spells, each hand movement carrying the harshness of his being. I sidestepped one spell, and ducked under the next, but my opponent was not done. He directed his next spell into the floor at my feet; a cascade of debris erupted, pelting me with rocks and creating a storm of sharp projectiles.
That had been the entire reason for his previous two spells, to maneuver me into this specific spot— Damn it! Protego!
Reacting swiftly, I raised a protective shield, the magical barrier forming a little too late to ward off the full effect of Dakarai’s move. The mitigated impact of the debris still struck me with a stinging force, with rocks ranging from pebbles to large stones pelting my body.
Pain radiated through various spots over my legs, arms and chest, and I gritted my teeth. My inner right thigh got hit the worst as a rock the size of my fist struck it, causing me to cry out.
Take it. I thought as adrenaline continued to pump through my veins, not muting my pain but allowing me to push through it.
Luckily, my head and groin had been spared from any hits, so I supposed I should have been thankful. Still gritting my teeth through the pain, I maintained focus on the ongoing battle, transfering my Shield Charm to my other hand and reducing its size to something more manageable as the crowd roared with approval at our exchanges.
I cringed inwardly as I tried to take a few steps forward, realizing that the damage to my thigh was more considerable than I’d initially thought. Putting any sort of weight on my right leg was going to be a nightmare from this point on.
Coordinator Griffiths’ voice rang out with excitement. “Ladies and gentlemen, it seems our duelists have drawn equal blood from each other!”
In the midst of the roaring audience, Dakarai and I resumed our fierce exchange, spells flying with increased ferocity.
Faster. I thought, adjusting my strategy by sacrificing the full impact of my spells for increased speed. With my leg the way it was, I couldn’t waste any time. Diffindo! Flipendo! Tarantallegra!
The spells themselves were at best harmless, or distractions, but the spellcasting speed increase was such that Dakarai simply panicked in response, attempting to stop my spells and expending energy, thinking he only needed to weather what seemed to be a last ditch attempt.
It was a bluff on my part, and I was taking a huge risk even doing this; however, I was reaping the reward, it seemed. Slowly, deliberately, I advanced on Dakarai.
This was a calculated gamble; the tactic involved forcing my opponent onto the defensive and causing him to lose ground— perhaps just enough for me to hit him with everything I had and knock him off of the ring.
The crowd watched in anticipation as the dynamics of the duel shifted. I could tell I had disrupted Dakarai’s rhythm, leaving him struggling to counter my swift and relentless spellcasting. As I approached, he was forced to create distance, moving backwards.
Step, after step, after step— it was working!
Dakarai continued to be forced back, my relentless barrage of rapid-fire spells pushing him to the edge of the rocky arena. The crowd’s excitement intensified, their cheers reaching a fever pitch.
“Dakarai is in real trouble, here!” Griffiths called out. “Will he be able to stop Black before it’s too late!?”
He won’t. I thought as I focused everything into my next spell. This would be the one to knock him out.
Confident in my impending victory, I prepared to unleash a torrent of chains upon Dakarai, intending to either entrap him, or send him hurtling out of the arena. The crowd’s anticipation reached a crescendo, and I relished my imminent triumph. Odgov—
However, Dakarai’s panic, previously apparent, vanished in an instant, replaced by a triumphant smirk. Confusion rippled through me as I felt a powerful tug at my entire being. The realization struck; this had been his plan all along.
A Summoning Charm— he intends on throwing me off himself! I thought as I was yanked towards him.
A sense of urgency flooded my senses. The edge of the arena loomed perilously close, and I knew I had to act swiftly to avoid being pulled out of bounds. Reacting in an instinctive panic, I focused on maintaining my balance, digging my heels into the rocky terrain to resist the relentless pull of the Summoning Charm.
A moment later, my brain caught up with what was happening, and I drove my Shield Charm down onto the floor, the barrier digging into the hard earth and halting my movement entirely.
I ignored the crowd’s cheers and gasps of surprise as I attempted to reorient myself, stepping back from the edge of the arena as fast as I could.
Instinctively, I turned my shield to the right, feeling a spell smashing into it and sending me crashing to the rocky ground. There was a sharp, momentary pain as my chin hit the hard rock, and I blacked out for a moment.
By the time I regained consciousness, another swift attack followed before I could react, Disarming me and sending my wand clattering away, far out of my reach.
There was a moment of silence before Griffiths, her shock evident, exclaimed. “Oh my, it looks like Black is down for the count!”
The crowd roared, their cries fueled by the unexpected twist in the duel.
As I struggled to regain my footing, Dakarai’s gaze met mine with a newfound respect. Understanding the predicament I found myself in, he encouraged me to surrender.
“You’ve lost your wand. There’s no need to continue. Yield gracefully, Black. You have fought well this day.” He urged, his tone carrying a blend of respect and a pragmatic acknowledgment of the situation.
I swallowed and took a harsh breath as I tried to take stock of the situation. My wand remained frustratingly distant, the vestiges of my shattered Shield Charm barely visible as I regained my footing. My leg throbbed in steadily increasing pain. Soon, I would no longer be able to stand; my trembling right leg was no longer something I could hide.
Dakarai, standing confidently with the upper hand, had me in a precarious position. Yet, I hadn’t conceded defeat just yet.
Recognizing the need for a strategic diversion, I chose a different path. In a seemingly defeated gesture, I raised my hands, mimicking surrender. The intention was clear: to momentarily lull Dakarai into dropping his guard, if only for a fleeting moment.
And he did.
Now!
“I…” I said as I focused my will, miming grabbing a rope and pulling with all of my might. “Do not surrender! Accio!“
The magic surged forth, pulling the water from the small pond and drenching him, buying me enough time to cast the spell again on my wand, snatching it out of the air as it zoomed towards me. The crowd erupted into a mix of gasps and cheers, acknowledging the unexpected turn of events as my ebony wand welcomed me back with a surge of warmth.
Ignoring the shocked announcement from Griffiths, I channeled all my focus and energy into the next spell.
Everything. Odgovor! My wand had barely found its place in my hand when I unleashed the chains toward my opponent with unwavering determination. Dakarai, caught off guard by the abrupt reversal, struggled to mount a defense.
The chains surged forward, expertly guided by my intent. Dakarai, despite his best efforts, was only able to fend them off for a few moments before my chains tore through his Shield Charm, shattering it into a thousand pieces. A moment later, he found himself entangled in the magical bindings.
“—what a stunning reversal in this duel between Adam Black of Hogwarts and Dakarai DeLumiere of Uagadou! A single lapse in Dakarai’s guard, and Adam Black seizes the opportunity! What an unexpected turn of events!”
The crowd’s murmurs and gasps echoed her sentiments, but I knew better. The match was not over. Dakarai, though ensnared by the chains, had not conceded defeat. He also was still not out of bounds.
The duel still hung in the balance, and I decided I would not take chances by asking him to concede.
Stupefy! I thought, and channeled the essence of the Stunning Charm into my conjured chains. The metallic links took on a reddish glow as the concentrated magical energy coursed through them.
Just in time, too. I thought as I witnessed Dakarai’s body begin to undergo a change. Animagus.
The reddish glow enveloped Dakarai in the middle of his metamorphosis, rendering him unconscious before the change could fully take effect and reversing it instantly. The arena fell into a momentary hush, the vivid glow fading as the chains slackened around the unconscious form of my opponent, placing him safely down on the rocky terrain.
I won. I thought, and yet I was so exhausted I couldn’t even muster any emotion.
Pain surged through every fiber of my being, and I realized it was the physical toll exacted by the intense duel, now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade. I checked myself over lightly; cuts and bruises adorned my body like battle scars, each telling a story of the micro-clashes that had taken place during the greater whole.
A searing, stabbing pain radiated from my right thigh, far worse than I had assumed this pain to be. It couldn’t be just a bruise— the pain, I realized, was worse than almost anything else I’d felt before, with the obvious exception of the Cruciatus Curse. A splitting headache threatened to overwhelm my senses, amplifying the agony that coursed through my body.
Every instinct urged me to succumb to the injuries, to let go and embrace the temporary respite of unconsciousness.
However, I knew I needed to hold it together. Through sheer willpower alone, I tuned it all out, focusing on the strength of my legs and waiting for Griffiths’ announcement of my victory.
Stay standing. Just stay standing.
It felt like an eternity, but it finally came.
“Adam Black of Hogwarts secures his place, advancing to the next stage of the tournament! A truly remarkable display of magical prow—”
A smile finally broke across my face as the announcement was made. In that moment of satisfaction, my focus wavered, and I finally allowed myself to revel in the achievement, knowing I’d be going unconscious sometime in the next few seconds.
Even as that thought crossed my mind, the world around me blurred. Oddly, as I fell forward onto the unforgiving rock beneath, I felt no pain— only a deep sense of fulfillment as everything turned to black.
ooo
December 3, 1992, 6:30 PM, Great Hall, Hogwarts
Harry Potter
The post-duel excitement reverberated through the Great Hall. Students exchanged exhilarating accounts of the day’s matches, their voices blending into a cacophony of enthusiasm. Amidst the lively chatter and clinking of utensils, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, his thoughts a tempest within.
Finishing his meal with a distant gaze, Harry’s brow furrowed in contemplation. The events of a few days before lingered in his mind, overshadowing the revelry that filled the hall. Ron, noticing Harry’s preoccupied demeanor, leaned in and asked. “You all right, Harry?”
Harry’s response was a dismissive nod.
“Yeah, just thinking.” He said, putting down his fork and staring into his empty plate.
Ron exchanged a concerned glance with Hermione, recognizing the telltale signs of Harry’s brooding. Though by normal standards, they hadn’t known each other for very long, the two had essentially dealt with each other on an hourly basis for over a year, at this point— scratch that, they’ve known each other for quite some time.
What they hadn’t yet learned, however, was how to get Harry to spill the beans.
When the boy did not want to talk, he did not talk; that was that.
As the buzz of conversation swirled around the Great Hall, the topic of Adam’s impressive duel emerged a few rows ahead. However, Harry, lost in his own thoughts, shook his head in a silent refusal, unwilling to listen to another retelling of the event.
They get more and more ridiculous each time I hear it. Harry shook his head. He didn’t understand why some people felt the need to embellish events— Adam’s opponent, Dakarai, had been formidable, and now he was being touted as some kind of failure for losing?
Had they not all seen the same match? He shook his head again; that’s exactly why he hadn’t wanted to listen in.
Harry rose from his seat, causing Ron and Hermione to exchange puzzled glances.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to see Adam.” Harry said simply. “He’s still holed up and he might want someone to be with him.”
“Aren’t Tony and Su with him?” Ron pointed out, gesturing at the three empty spots on the Ravenclaw table.
“Yeah.” Harry said, giving them a tight smile. “But I’m still going. He is my brother, after all.”
He hoped that his line would convince them. He felt a little relief when he saw the acceptance in their looks. Truthfully, while he did not deny the existence of the bond between them, Harry still wasn’t quite fully comfortable with the idea of having a brother. True, a positive family member had been something he had secretly dreamed about for years, but he had never thought it would come true.
“Want us to come with you?” Hermione offered, bringing him back to reality. Harry shook his head, declining their company.
“It’s fine.” Harry said. “I’m just going to quickly check up on him. His injuries didn’t seem too bad when they were moving him.”
He remembered the boy’s collapse in the arena. Everyone had panicked, then, but then the Healers, upon checking him, had declared that he had simply succumbed to his exhaustion; no life threatening injuries or curses.
And so, with a nod to his friends, he left the Great Hall behind. The distant murmur of conversations gradually faded, leaving Harry in a cocoon of contemplative silence.
The biting cold air nipped at him, prompting him to secure his winter cloak tightly around his frame. As he traversed past the courtyard, a thin layer of fresh snow was already forming, nature’s persistent dance with the changing landscape.
Harry noticed a cluster of students from Uagadou engaged in casual chatter, their animated discussions creating fleeting puffs of warmth in the frosty air.
They likely never experience this kind of weather where they live. He thought. Smiling a little, Harry stared at them for another few seconds before pressing forward, his mind fixed on his destination: the Hospital Wing.
It took him a few more minutes until he finally reached the threshold of the Hospital Wing. Stepping inside, the warmth of the enchanted space enveloped him, providing a stark contrast to the wintry chill outside.
A Healer assigned to the Wing by the Ministry, positioned near the entrance, cast a curious gaze in Harry’s direction, a hint of inquiry in his eyes.
Before the aide could voice his question, Madam Pomfrey intervened, having quickly spotted Harry enter. She approached him, her no-nonsense demeanor softened by a genuine concern for her patients.
“Mr. Potter.” She said, her tone a mix of stern authority and underlying warmth. “I suppose you’re here for Mr. Black. Follow me.”
With a nod, she directed Harry towards the section of the ward where Adam was recovering from his recent ordeal.
Harry’s gaze swept across the Hospital Wing, noticing Su and Tony seated by Adam’s peacefully slumbering form.
They greeted him with a light nod before returning to whatever activities were helping pass the time in the hushed atmosphere of the Hospital Wing.
Harry focused his attention on Adam. The once-prominent injuries that adorned the boy’s body had been tended to by Madam Pomfrey, leaving behind faint scars that hinted at recent skirmishes— as far as he could see, anyway.
Curiosity and concern etched across his features, Harry turned to Madam Pomfrey, inquiring. “Has he been unconscious this entire time?”
Madam Pomfrey shook her head in response. “No, Mr. Potter. He had a meal a while ago. Right now, he’s simply resting and regaining his strength.”
She gestured towards the chairs scattered around the room, inviting Harry to take a seat.
And so, he did.
Madam Pomfrey glanced at the clock and addressed the trio. “You have about thirty minutes left before I’ll need to ask you to leave. I suggest you make the most of it.”
Then, she took a moment, seemingly contemplating, before turning her attention to Su and Tony. “Actually, I think it would be wise for you two to grab a bite to eat. Dinner time in the Great Hall won’t last forever, and I won’t have you going hungry.”
The two friends offered weak protests, but both Harry and Madam Pomfrey could discern the rumblings of hunger beneath their words.
So, Harry gave them a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold the fort here with Adam.”
Reluctantly, Su and Tony acquiesced, bidding Harry and the still-sleeping Adam a temporary farewell as they made their way out of the Hospital Wing.
The time passed by slowly, and for once Harry welcomed it. He needed to center his thoughts, and get this off of his chest. It had been on his mind for the past week and he couldn’t just let it go anymore.
Harry sighed, his gaze fixed on Adam’s resting form. “It’s funny, isn’t it? Either you or I always seem to find ourselves here.”
He shook his head, his thoughts dwelling on the recent events.
“Last time, I’m the one who did this to you. I still don’t properly remember what happened, but it’s slowly starting to come back to me.”
The memories flashed before Harry’s eyes, and he faltered in his words. He could almost still feel the rush in his body, like a power lurking just outside of his perception and grasp.
“Something happened to me.” He continued, his voice more contemplative than angry or sad now. “I felt… powerful. So powerful that I thought I could take on Dumbledore. I don’t remember much more than that.”
The pieces of the puzzle refused to align in his mind, leaving him grasping at fragments of memories that slipped through his fingers like sand. The newfound magical sight, the unexpected transformation, and the consequences it had unleashed on Adam— all of it created a tumultuous storm within Harry’s thoughts.
“What the bloody hell is happening to me?” Harry muttered to himself.
“Who knows…” Came Adam’s weak voice from the bed. Harry swiveled his head so hard at the sound that he felt momentarily dizzy.
“Adam!”
“Hey.” Adam greeted as he attempted to get up, wincing and grabbing his right thigh in pain.
Harry immediately got up and started fussing over him, fetching a glass of water. Adam took a sip and thanked him before relaxing back into his bed.
“So you heard everything?” Harry inquired.
“Maybe.” A smirk played on Adam’s lips before vanishing. “You shouldn’t feel bad about putting me in this position the last time.”
“You’ve said that before, Adam, but—”
“But nothing.” Adam declared, giving the boy a glare. “Injuries can be healed, but what happened taught the both of us valuable lessons.”
“Like what?”
“For one.” Adam explained. “You’ve discovered a dormant power within you, something you never knew you had.”
“So, what?” Harry said, still not particularly convinced about this. “All that did was hurt you badly enough to be sent here.”
“Hmph.” Adam scoffed at that. “Like I said, injuries can be healed. I think, more importantly, now that you know you have this power, then the next step is to understand, and control it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Harry asked, blurting out one of his fears.
“…That’d be the absolute, most stupid decision you’ll ever make in your life.” Adam said without hesitation, almost looking angry. Harry hadn’t expected such a harsh reaction.
“Sorry.” Adam said a moment later as he composed himself. “I know you better than that— I guess I hoped you’d be happy about getting stronger.”
Harry pursed his lips. Adam was right; Harry did want to get more powerful, but he just wasn’t sure about it all. “It’s all right, but…”
Adam waited, deciding not to push his friend too far. “But?”
“Well… What if I lose my mind again?” Harry says.
“That’s another reason why you’ll need to get a handle on this power.” Adam answered immediately. “Better with me there, since I can stop you.”
Harry absorbed the words for a few seconds before speaking again. “That makes sense…”
“And, if that’s not enough.” Adam added at the end. “We can ask Sirius, or Remus for help. I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”
Harry smiled at that, though he also winced.
Adam only chuckled, reading the emotions behind his reaction perfectly. “Yeah, I forget I can ask them for help too, sometimes.”
“Yeah…” The two boys shared a smile before Harry blinked.
“Wait.” Harry said, frowning. “You said we both learned lessons.”
“Mhm.” Adam said and didn’t elaborate.
“…What did you learn?”
“Heh.” Adam smirked, and Harry couldn’t help but reel at the excitement lurking behind his mismatched eyes. “I learned that the world is truly a wide, massive, wondrous place.”
“…Care to elaborate on that?”
“No.”
“Typical.”
Harry stayed there until Pomphrey kicked him out.
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