Lessons

February 5, 1993, 6:00 PM, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts

Adam Clarke

I pushed my way towards the bustling medical tent, ignoring the outstretched hands and concerned faces that reached out to offer assistance. Despite the throbbing pain that radiated through my body with every step, I was determined to endure. I would find a place to rest on my own terms.

Just a little more. Bear through it a little more.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I entered the tent and reached a row of empty beds, damn-near collapsing onto one with a heavy sigh of relief. The soft mattress offered a welcome respite from the strain of the duel, and my bottom sank into its comforting embrace with a sense of gratitude.

As I settled onto the bed, I couldn’t help but wince as a fresh wave of pain washed over me. The injuries I had sustained in the duel were more severe than I had initially realized, and the full extent of their impact was only now beginning to make itself known.

With a grimace, I gingerly probed the tender spots on my body, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain that shot through me with each touch. It was clear that I would need more than just a bit of rest to recover from this.

Despite the pain, I felt a sense of deep satisfaction wash over me. I had emerged victorious, proving to myself and others that I was capable of facing even a formidable opponent head-on. I knew I wasn’t a prodigy like others had been saying about me.

My knowledge had been gained from hard work and the advantage of an adult mind coupled with a child’s boundless energy. Even with that going for me, I was still very aware of how deficient I was in certain areas, such as Transfiguration.

I closed my eyes with a wince, the pain still making itself known even as I attempted to attune myself to the soothing hum of activity in the medical tent.

The crowd’s cheers came to me as a distant echo, giving me a sense of detachment from the bustling activity outside. A faint smile came to my face; the Imperturbable Charm really was something else. It offered a small comfort, knowing that I could find a measure of peace in the quiet solitude of the tent as I focused on my recovery.

I settled back onto the bed and closed my eyes. I had conquered my most difficult opponent yet, but I knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with even more challenges. Still high on my success, however, I was confident that I was at least ready to encounter these foes.

Yes, I was ready to face whatever this League was going to throw at me next.

The tent flaps parted, drawing my attention to the pair of Healers coming in. A moment later, my gaze moved to the unconscious boy that floated between them. With a furrowed brow, I recognized the figure of my opponent, Akio, his limp form borne aloft by the spells of the Healers.

With practiced efficiency, the two maneuvered Akio onto a nearby bed, their movements swift and precise as they began to assess his injuries.

As they worked, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for my defeated opponent, despite the sheer viciousness and fierce resolve that he’d shown during our duel.

Despite all of that, I harbored no ill will towards Akio, recognizing that he had fought with courage and determination until the very end.

With a silent nod of acknowledgement, which went unnoticed by the Healers, I settled back onto my bed, allowing myself a moment of quiet reflection as I contemplated the events that had led us to this point.

One of the two working on Akio, who I recognized as the Ugandan Magical government’s generously loaned attaché, broke off from her charge and approached me with a warm, but professional smile.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Black.” She said, her voice soft yet confident as she gave me a nod.

“Hello.” I replied, returning her nod with one of my own.

Without hesitation, she began her assessment, her hand hovering over my forehead as she muttered under her breath.

“Let’s see how you’re doing…” She murmured, her tone calm and focused.

I watched with curiosity as a faint film of magic began to envelop my form, its presence gentle yet palpable against my skin.

“I didn’t know you could wandlessly use healing magic.” I said. “Though I suppose that’s probably obvious, huh?”

“Oh, yes.” She said. “You’d be surprised at what one is capable of with enough discipline. Then again, I have seen your recent performances, so you may well be able to understand the intricacies of what I am doing.”

“A diagnostic spell, of some kind. Generalized, and not local.” I asked, unable to contain myself, despite the pain and exhaustion I felt.

The Healer glanced up at me, her expression calm and composed, but her soul thread agitated with grudging surprise. “That is correct, Mr. Black.”

As the diagnostic spell concluded, the Healer listed off my injuries with a concerned furrow of her brow. “Speaking of which… Many cuts, bruises and contusions situated all over your body, a concussion, torn ligaments in your shoulder, a bruised tibia, and an acute care of physical and mental exhaustion.”

She glanced down at me, an expression of disgruntlement on her face.

I nodded, acknowledging her assessment with a smile which looked more like a grimace. “Yeah. It’s been a particularly rough ten minutes.”

“That’s certainly one way to put it. I witnessed the match, first-hand.” The Healer’s expression softened, a hint of dismay in her eyes as she gently chided me. “What in Ugabo’s name possessed you to stand directly in the path of some of those spells when you could have dodged or deflected them?”

Ugabo? I thought in confusion for a moment. Maybe a famous wizard in their history?

Whatever it was, I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I considered the remainder of her words.

“You may be overestimating my abilities, Healer… Kaikarra, was it?”

She nodded, and so I continued.

“Akio was ridiculously fast, and I barely had the time to think, let alone move. No, I had to make split-second decisions, one after the other.” I explained. “Either take those spells head on or face ones of a higher magnitude of power and get hurt even worse.”

The Healer. Kaikarra, nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic yet still disapproving.

“I see.” She murmured, though the tone of her voice suggested otherwise. “Well, we’ll do our best to get you patched up. But please, try to avoid such reckless actions in the future.”

I offered her a wry smile.

“I’ll do my best.” I said dryly, drawing a snort from the woman.

With a nod of acknowledgement, the Healer began to work her magic, tending to my injuries with the skill and precision one would expect from a witch of her position. She instructed me to wait patiently while she retrieved the necessary potions and poultices needed for the more serious injuries. She and her colleague joined back together before leaving me and Akio alone.

A sharp stab of pain in my shoulder made itself known, causing me to hiss and reach for it. My whole body burned with that simple exertion.

No, I need to rest. I told myself.

Taking a deep breath, I moved myself into a resting position, laying my head on the pillow as I waited for the Healer’s return. But before I could even gather my thoughts, my attention was drawn to the sound of movement from Akio’s bed.

Akio shifted himself awake, his movements slow and deliberate as he attempted to sit up, he winced, stopped, and lay back down.

He murmured something to himself in Japanese. Even if it had been in English, I probably wouldn’t have been able to make it out from where I was, but I guessed that he was musing about his defeat.

“Take it easy.” I advised in a low tone. “It was a rough match out there.”

Akio’s gaze flickered towards me, his expression switching from surprise to something caught between a glare and a look of hunger. There was something unsettling about the intensity of his stare, and I found myself holding my breath, unsure of what to expect next.

Barely awake for three seconds, and already Akio looked as though he were ready to launch into another attack.

I raised my hands in a non confrontational manner, my tone firm yet calm as I spoke. “The match is over. We’re done fighting.”

To my surprise, Akio stared back at me with an expression of complete dismay, his features contorted in disbelief.

If I had to put a name to the look on his face, it would be akin to that of a child who had just had his candy stolen— albeit, a very violent child. It was a strange sight, to say the least, but one that spoke volumes about the intensity of his dedication to the duel.

People like him were a different breed, driven by a singular passion that often crossed into the realm of deep obsession. And in that moment, as I watched Akio’s reaction, I couldn’t help but feel a mixture of curiosity.

What was he thinking in the face of his defeat at my hands? 

It didn’t take long for me to find out.

Akio took a deep breath, his gaze turning icy as he leveled me with a piercing glare.

“You did not fight with honor.” He stated bluntly, his words cutting through the air like a blade. “You fought with deception.”

His accusation caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of surprise at his directness.

I hadn’t expected him to confront me about my tactics. Perhaps a request for a rematch, or perhaps some declaration of this not being over— not this. For a moment, I found myself at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond to his accusation.

As Akio’s words sank in, a wave of disbelief washed over me. Surely, he couldn’t be serious. No one could be so naive as to believe that every duel was fought with honor and without deception. Did he truly believe that I would take it easy on him and not use every advantage at my disposal?

Yet, the sheer vitriol in his voice suggested otherwise, challenging my initial assumptions.

Perhaps I’d built his reputation up in my head more than he deserved, because that was just disappointing.

With a mixture of incredulity and frustration, I couldn’t help but scoff in response to his accusation. It was a reflexive reaction, one I hadn’t even given thought.

I met Akio’s accusatory gaze head-on, my own expression firm as I directly challenged his words.

“Was I supposed to just lie down and take it?” I retorted, my voice edged with a hint of mocking incredulity. “Or should I have simply aimed to win, by any means necessary? Which of these sound more appealing to you?”

Akio’s glare intensified as he countered, his voice sharp with disdain.

“There is a difference between winning and fighting with honor.” He argued, his words raising the tension between us. “You chose the path of deception, rather than facing your opponent head-on.”

I waved dismissively.

“The use of illusions and misdirection are well within the bounds of what is considered acceptable and honorable by the rules.” I pointed out, my tone unwavering. “I played by the rules of the duel, and I won fair and square. Honor has been satisfied on both sides.”

But Akio remained unconvinced, his expression hardening with anger at my declaration.

“Your tactics were nothing more than cowardly behavior.” He insisted, his voice dripping with contempt.

His accusation prompted a smile to tug at the corners of my lips, a sardonic twist of amusement at his words.

“Cowardly, you say?” I replied, shaking my head at the sheer gall of this stupid child, because that was what he was showing himself as. “You have no idea of the meaning of the word ‘coward’.”

He didn’t say anything, prompting me to continue.

“It’s no wonder that your attainment of power is incomplete.” I remarked with open scorn. “Your teachers have clearly shirked their duty in your education.”

Akio bristled at my words, his jaw tensing as he shot back. “Do not disrespect my teachers. You understand nothing.”

“I don’t disrespect your teachers.” I countered, my tone firm. “But if they were truly venerable and had not shirked this duty of theirs, you would have had the humility to understand your own limitations and plan around them.”

A flicker of anger crossed Akio’s features at my words, but I pressed on.

“Instead.” I continued, my voice cutting like a knife. “You lash out like a child, unable to accept criticism or learn from your mistakes. So, either they shirked their duty to you, or you are simply a poor student. Which is it?”

His anger worsened. He looked like he was about to leap towards me and strangle me, despite his wounded state. I tensed, preparing for the fight, even as I held his glare and continued to press my point unflinchingly.

“The definition of honor varies between every nation.” I stated, my voice steady despite the tension in the air and the tremble I felt in my right arm. “And even within the same nation, many people have their own understanding of the word.”

He bit back whatever he was going to say next with a grunt of acknowledgement.

Maybe some progress? Heartened a little by this, I continued.

“Is it honorable to be lax and ignorant, unwilling to learn anything new?” I challenged his viewpoint again. “Is it honorable to limit one’s own education? Would it have been honorable to lose because of this? Do you feel honorable right now, sitting in bed after you’ve demonstrated this ineptitude and rigid mentality?”

Akio opened his mouth, as if to retort, but no words came out. Instead, he seemed to have been shocked into silence by the weight of the words presented to him. His glare softened slightly, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty, as if he were reconsidering his stance.

“It is still not honorable.” He insisted in a low voice.

I raised an eyebrow at his weak dismissal, then calmly pointed out. “Even in your own nation, your peers use misdirection in their tactics.”

“My peers? You speak of Hien. I don’t need to learn from a cowardly weakling like him.” Akio retorted, his voice edged with disdain once more.

“A weakling, is he?” I maintained my calm demeanor, meeting his gaze squarely as I responded. “We were just talking about honor. Is it honorable to consult with the same person you consider to be a weakling and a coward on the extent of my own abilities? Well? Where’s the honor in that?”

Akio’s expression shifted, anger mingling with embarrassment as he struggled to form a response.

“That’s different.” He muttered, his tone defensive.

I raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of my lips.

“That so? How’s that, then?” I said, pressing him to confront his own contradictions. I shook my head before he could say anything. “No, I doubt you could give me a straight answer, in your state.”

As the tense silence stretched between Akio and me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface than mere questions of honor. It was his pride, I realized— the deep-seated need to prove himself, to uphold the reputation he had built for himself at Mahoutokoro.

“You’re not even really upset about honor, are you?” I ventured, breaking the silence. “It’s your pride that’s wounded. All this for your ego. Ridiculous.”

Akio’s anger flared anew at my words; his jaw clenched tight, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the confines of the tent.

I stared at him for a few moments longer, my own thoughts racing, before another voice intruded upon the stillness of the tent.

“My, my, it seems young Adam here has quite the insight.” The voice remarked, drawing our attention.

We both turned to see who had entered, and my eyes widened in surprise at the sight of an old Japanese man, his features bearing a striking resemblance to Akio’s own.

He regarded us both with a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with a wisdom that reminded me a little of Dumbledore.

“The foreigner speaks crude, but he speaks true.” He continued, addressing Akio directly. “Pride can be a double-edged sword, child. It can drive you to greatness, but it can also blind you to the lessons that defeat has to offer.”

Akio’s expression softened at the man’s presence and his words.

“I assume you two are acquainted?” I asked, turning between the two in slight confusion.

The old man chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“In a manner of speaking.” He replied cryptically.

Akio bowed his head and addressed the old man. “Ojiisan.“

I see. I thought in realization. His grandfather.

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place with startling clarity, and I found myself nodding in understanding. The resemblance was unmistakable now.

The old man returned Akio’s bow with a small nod of his own before turning his attention to me. His gaze was sharp, assessing, as if he could see straight through to the core of my being.

“Indeed, young Adam is correct.” The old man in measured tones, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience. “Your victories in the past have clouded your vision, Akio. You judged your own competence by the pitiful adversaries you had encountered until now. It made you complacent, and in doing so, you have allowed your skills to wane.”

Akio’s expression tightened at his grandfather’s words, a mixture of frustration and shame flickering across his features. It was clear that the truth of his grandfather’s assessment struck a chord deep within him.

“I understand, Grandfather.” Akio replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am ashamed of my failure. I have dishonored our family with my defeat.”

My eyes widened in surprise at the radical change in the boy’s demeanor, before moving towards the old man. He must have a high regard for his grandfather.

The old man’s gaze softened, a hint of sympathy shining in his eyes as he regarded his grandson.

“It is not failure that defines us, Akio.” He said. “It is, in fact, how we respond to it. You have the strength within you to rise above this setback and take your first step to greatness.”

“My first step..?” Akio said, incredulous. “What of my accomplishments at the academy?”

“Laudable achievements, to be sure.” The old man said. “You have done well to heighten your speed to such degrees that you can likely hold your own against a seasoned Auror for some time. However, by neglecting other areas, you have demonstrated great weakness. Indeed, had you shifted your training to focus on tactics, you may have yet won the day.”

Akio remained silent, his shame persisting in his downcast gaze.

The old man turned to me, his gaze searching, as if gauging my reaction to his words.

“I hope you didn’t take that as an insult, Mr. Black.” He said.

I shook my head, offering a small smile of reassurance.

“Not at all, Nakamura-san.” I replied. “If he had adapted his fighting style as I did, it would have been a much closer match, perhaps even in his favor.”

The old man chuckled at something I said, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Indeed.” He agreed. “Your use of an invisible Shield Charm layered just over your skin was quite impressive. It would have certainly made for a far more interesting duel, had my grandson detected it and compensated.”

“Though I must admit.” He paused, his expression thoughtful. “I could tell that your barriers were only lessening the damage, not negating it entirely. A testament to your skill, nonetheless.”

“Thank you.” I nodded, acknowledging his observation. Despite my best efforts, Akio’s relentless assault had taken its toll, pushing me to the limits of my endurance. “Do you have any advice for me?”

The old man chuckled. “So brazen.”

“It never hurts to ask.” I said.

“I will say this.” He said, shaking his head. “Do not grow lax in your training. You are on a good path, but remember this: there will always be someone more powerful than you.”

“…” I absorbed the man’s words before nodding. It wasn’t anything revolutionary, but I imagined that was the best I would get. “I will keep that in mind.”

“Very good.” The man said, his expression switching back to the harmless persona he’d had before. “Now, it’s time for this old man to go back to the matches.”

“Boys.” He nodded his head towards us before leaving.

Akio and I shared looks, but he shook his head and lay back down, closing his eyes.

Frowning, I accepted his unwillingness to chat with stride. It’s not like he and I were friends— we were damn near trying to kill each other not twenty minutes ago.

Still, something in the way the old man spoke cause a nagging thought to creep into my mind: what kind of family did Akio come from? Was it a lineage steeped in the tradition of combat, much like Clan Zhenya? The image of Vanessa, with her unabashed sadism and ruthless fighting style, flashed before my mind’s eye. Despite their differences, there was an undeniable similarity in the way the two approached battle.

I also couldn’t help but wonder if I would be able to beat Vanessa in a duel, especially now, after facing off against Akio. The question lingered in the back of my mind, tantalizing yet elusive, as the Healers returned and pressed potions into my hands one after another.

Their ministrations blurred together, the taste of each potion a bitter reminder of the toll the duel had taken on my body. One particularly potent concoction sent me drifting into a dreamless slumber, its effects wrapping me in a blanket of oblivion.

When I finally awoke, the fog of sleep gradually lifting from my mind, I realized with a start that I felt far better than I had in what seemed like ages. The pain that had been a constant companion since the duel had dulled to a faint ache, and my limbs felt surprisingly nimble.

Before I could dwell on my swift recovery, however, the healer was upon me once again, her sharp eyes assessing me for any lingering injuries. The realization that Akio had already departed struck me with a surprising pang of disappointment, but I pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the present moment.

After what felt like a second eternity of Healing spells and Potions, the Healer finally declared me fit enough to leave the medical tent. Despite her efforts, however, my body still throbbed with twinges of pain. I would need to actually rest, eventually.

I took slow, deliberate steps as I exited the tent, determined to take it easy and not overexert myself.

Outside, the fading light of the sun cast long shadows across the grounds of Hogwarts, while the distant sounds of chatter and cheers from the ongoing tournament echoed in the air. Contestants continued to be pitted against each other in feats of magical prowess, their battles adding to the electrifying atmosphere of the event.

I made my way towards the Quidditch stand where I knew my friends would be gathered, figuring they’d have something ready for me to eat. However, as I reached the base of the stand, the prospect of climbing all those steps felt daunting, my weary muscles protesting at the thought.

Can I just die here, instead? I thought with a dismayed shake of the head and a sigh.

Before I could muster the energy to begin the ascent, a warm hand came to rest on my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie. Turning my head slightly, I found myself face to face with a familiar figure, their expression one of concern and kindness.

It was Amy.

I turned to fully face her. Her presence brought a sense of familiarity and ease amidst the chaos of the tournament grounds. With a gentle gesture, she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

“Hey there, Adam.” She greeted me, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “You’re looking a little done with everything. Are you alright?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, though I winced as the reaction jostled my ribs.

“Something like that. What are you doing here?” I said before realizing the absurdity of the  question. Of course, she was here to report on the matches, just like she always did. “Nevermind, stupid question.”

Amy laughed at my self-correction, a playful glint in her eyes. “It’s quite alright.”

But then, her expression turned a little serious. “Actually, Adam, I was hoping we could have a word. In private.”

Intrigued, I nodded in agreement, silently following her as she led me away from the bustling crowds at the base of the Quidditch bleachers. We meandered through the stalls, where spectators took breaks from watching the fights to indulge in the various offerings from different nations participating in the League. The aroma of exotic spices mingled with the excited chatter of the crowd, creating a vibrant tapestry of sights and sounds.

Amy, noticing my tense looks, bought me some food. I took the offered sticks of roasted beef with gratitude as she led me to a secluded spot away from the throng of people.

Taking a bite out of my food, I couldn’t help but wonder what Amy wanted to discuss. Whatever it was, I had a feeling it would be worth hearing.

As Amy began to speak, I found myself interrupting her, a sudden surge of curiosity driving me to ask my own questions first. “Wait.”

To her credit, she tilted her head in curiosity but graciously accepted my request.

“I have a few questions of my own, but please, you can start.” I said, gesturing for her to proceed.

Amy’s expression shifted slightly. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to do an interview about your match against your most recent opponent, Akio Nakamura.”

I frowned at her request, a nagging thought tugging at the back of my mind. I remembered the way Akio’s grandfather looked amused at the way I addressed him, as well as Akio’s near-scandalized stare.

“You didn’t ask for interviews for my previous matches.” I questioned, unable to shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach. “Does this have anything to do with Akio’s family?”

Amy was about to respond before she stopped, her eyes growing wide. “You mean, you don’t know?

“Know what?” I said. “It’s just a powerful family, right? His grandfather looked pretty intimidating.”

“You…” Amy said, her eyes going even wider than before. “You’ve met the boy’s grandfather?”

“Um…” I said, feeling a little odd about her continuous questioning. “Yes? I talked to him not fifteen minutes ago.”

The silence that followed my statement was deafening. Was I missing something?

“Is there something I need to know, Amy?”

“That man.” Amy’s response came, swift, grave and direct. “Is considered to be nearly royalty in Japan— on top of being one of the world’s most powerful, venerated wizards.”

I opened my mouth and closed it. “Damn.”

“I hope you were respectful when addressing him.”

“I… probably wasn’t?”

“Oh, Adam…” Her voice was almost pitying in its tone.

“Forget about that. He didn’t seem upset by me.” I said, waving her concerns away. “If anything, he seemed happy to give me advice. Cryptic as anything, but advice is advice.”

“If you say so.” Amy said, dropping the subject. “What was it you wished to ask me?”

I took a breath, scanning our surroundings slowly before turning to Amy. “Does this interview have anything to do with a certain mutual acquaintance of ours?”

A moment of silence passed before Amy shook her head vehemently, her expression turning cold as she glared at me for the insinuation in my tone. I quickly relented, offering a sheepish apology for my hasty accusation.

Her anger surprised me.

“My work has nothing to do with him.” She stated emphatically. “I report on the truth, and I’ve never been influenced in any way, shape, or form. Not by anyone, and I never will.”

Despite her assurances, a nagging sense of doubt lingered in the back of my mind. After all, I had been forced to sign a magical contract pledging my silence about certain events, including my “visit” to Grindelwald. The fact that Amy claimed to be unaffected by any external pressures seemed almost too good to be true.

I voiced my skepticism, my tone cautious.

“I find that hard to believe.” I admitted, my gaze searching her face for any sign of deception. “I signed a contract to not speak of anything there. You must have done something similar.”

“That is true.” Amy nodded in confirmation, her expression still somber. “But that doesn’t mean I support him in any way. My allegiance lies with the truth, and nothing else.”

Despite Amy’s assurances, though, I found it difficult to shake off my doubts. How could she not feel some level of loyalty to the man who had given her a fresh start in her career? Without him, she might have struggled to find employment, given Rita Skeeter’s influence and her ability to blacklist individuals from reputable establishments in the industry. While establishments like the Quibbler remained an option, it was often dismissed as a tabloid.

A rag.

Amy frowned slightly at my persistent skepticism, her brow furrowing in concern.

“Listen.” She said, lowering her voice. “I won’t deny that I feel grateful for the opportunity he provided me and my colleagues. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to compromise my integrity for it. If anything, he seemed to encourage that.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing the words. “He does seem genuine sometimes.”

Perhaps I had been too quick to judge, too quick to assume the worst?

“I understand your hesitation, Adam.” She said. “But you’ve known me before that episode in the summer. You know what kind of person I am. I wouldn’t betray myself in that way. I wouldn’t betray my friends, and families, and I wouldn’t betray— well…”

I hummed. “Sirius?”

She looked away, and I smiled in realization. “That bad, huh.”

“That’s none of your business.” She said, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“It kind of is.” I pointed out. “If he finds out about any of this, I don’t know how things’ll turn out.”

“I don’t know either, but I am sure you would be forgiven for it. After all…” She said. “You were there against your will, and I was there willingly.”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence.

“He would forgive you.” She said again, though her expression turned sad. “And I hope he would forgive me, if it ever came to light.”

“Well, he won’t be hearing it from me.”

“Good boy.”

“Say that again, and I will take my words back.” I said, and we both shared a laugh before I decided to probe further. “So, just how serious are you two?”

“That’s not even funny.” She said, rolling her eyes. “And, that’s none of your business; you’re still a boy.”

“Just a boy who’s wondering if he should start calling you stepmother, that’s all.”

My remark earned me a whack on the head. I only smiled in response, despite the wave of dizziness that followed.

That was well earned.