Love And War

February 14, 1993, 10:30 PM, Dorm Room, Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts

Adam Clarke

The night was quiet, the only sound in my dorm room being the rustle of pages as I pored over the intricate symbols laid out before me. Silver light filtered through the window, adding to the luminescence provided by the few candles around.

Mumbling to myself, I traced the lines of a particularly complex rune with my fingertip, trying to commit its shape and meaning to memory.

“Dagaz kawnen.” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. “Dagez kawnan…”

But as I spoke, the pronunciation stumbled on my tongue, the unfamiliar syllables tripping me up. With a frustrated curse, I tried again, determined to get it right this time.

“Dagez kawnan.” I repeated, the word rolling off my tongue with a bit more confidence, but still not quite right.

Twice more I attempted it, each time feeling the frustration building within me. But on the third try, something clicked— the syllables flowed smoothly from my lips, the rune’s name ringing clear and true in the stillness of the night.

“Dagaz kawnan, day of fire.” I grinned and read my whole translation of the sentence. “And we celebrated muchly on the day of fire. Makes sense.”

I leaned back in my chair, the sense of accomplishment washing over me.

I neared the end of the fifth year curriculum on Runes. Soon, I’d be able to take the OWLs for them.

It might have astounded some people, but combat was not my favorite thing to do. For me, one of my preferred topics was on languages; I believed that they were more than just a subject to study— languages were a passion, a window into the long and rich tapestry of human history.

Delving into the intricacies of Ancient Runes felt like exploring a forgotten world, each symbol a key to unlocking untold secrets of the past, whether they be mundane or significant. I relished the challenge of deciphering their meanings, tracing the subtle patterns woven into their shapes and sounds.

Honestly, it was a treat, a good diversion from the stresses of daily life. With every new word I learned, every paragraph I deciphered, it felt like I was piecing together the stories of the people who had crafted these symbols millennia ago.

Despite my love for Ancient Runes, however, there was a lingering sense of frustration. While I certainly enjoyed learning it, it was difficult to ignore the fact that its practical applications seemed limited within the Wizarding World.

Unlike other magical disciplines that had tangible effects— Potions, Charms, Transfiguration— Ancient Runes often felt like an academic pursuit with little real-world relevance. Sure, being able to decipher old tomes and inscriptions for any obscure spells, rituals and various magic phenomena was useful, but beyond that, it seemed to serve little purpose.

I couldn’t help but wonder why more hadn’t been done to explore the potential of such a topic. Surely it couldn’t be as simple as that. Maybe there was the possibility of practical spellcasting, and wizards hadn’t found it yet?

The thought nagged at me as I continued my studies. Perhaps the answer lay not with wizards, but with creatures like the Goblins, who wielded magic in ways that were still largely unknown to us.

I knew that those buggers used some kind of wandless magic, as well as harnessing the power of rituals, but I wondered if they also employed the use of some kind of runic magic, as well. It was hard to tell.

Another thought which corroborated my musings crept into my mind— Harry’s sudden attainment of a mysterious power. It served as compelling evidence of this, hinting at depths to the magical world that I had never considered before.

It was entirely plausible that new material had been added to the story after my death, expanding upon the existing lore and introducing new elements that altered the fabric of the wizarding world.

People had been talking of rumors of a game being developed in my last days. I thought. Could this be part of that? I know the other games added bits and pieces of their own lore to the greater magical world… Maybe?

Shaking my head to clear away the tangled web of thoughts, I reminded myself to focus on the task at hand. There were too many uncertainties to dwell on at the moment, and I couldn’t afford to let my mind wander down endless rabbit holes.

With a determined sigh, I returned my attention to the paragraphs I was deciphering, determined at least to see those through to completion. For now, all I could do was take things one step at a time, trusting that answers would reveal themselves in due course.

As I completed the final exercise in the chapter half an hour later, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. With a contented sigh, I closed the book and leaned back in my chair, allowing myself a moment of respite.

Pushing away from the table, I made my way to the window, drawn by the allure of the moonlit grounds. The snow, once pristine and untouched, was beginning to melt, revealing slivers of dark green land beneath its surface. It was a sight that never failed to captivate me— the juxtaposition of winter’s chill against the promise of spring’s renewal.

Even after living here for over a year, Hogwarts still felt like a place of wonder, one in which I could immerse myself in the pursuit of knowledge and understanding of magic.

With a smile, I lingered at the window for a few moments longer, savoring the stillness of the night. Eventually, I turned away from the window and made my way to bed, ready to rest and recharge for the next day.

Just as I was about to change into my nightwear, however, I felt a subtle shift in my perception that signaled the familiar arrival of another. Turning back to the window, I saw the silhouette of a figure outside, and a smile tugged at my lips as I recognized her— Helena.

With a sense of anticipation, I opened the window and watched as she glided gracefully into the room. As she paused at the center of the room, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with a touch of nervousness.

What was she doing here so late?

“Helena.” I greeted her, my voice filled with warmth. “I didn’t expect you to come tonight. You said you’d be busy tonight.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgment, her expression unreadable as she regarded me with piercing eyes.

“I did, but I just wanted to come and see you.” She replied, her voice echoing faintly in the quiet of the room. “Zero.”

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the sound of that name on her lips. There was so much I wanted to do, so many things I wanted to say, but for now, I simply stood in appreciation of her presence, grateful that someone, out there, had allowed me to share something so deeply personal with them.

“Thank you.”

Leading her to the chair by the desk, I gestured for her to sit. She got settled into the seat, her form flickering slightly in the moonlight as she gave me a small smile.

“How was your day?” I said, interested to know about what she’d done. “I hope that you got whatever it is that you were doing, done.”

“Oh, I did. I spent most of it in solitude, as I often do.” She replied, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. “Though, today, I flew to the top of a mountain and gazed down at the Hogwarts grounds from up high. It was a most amazing sight.”

I listened intently as she spoke, captivated by the image of her soaring through the sky, her spirit free and untethered.

“That sounds amazing, honestly.” I replied.

Helena nodded, a smile touching her lips.

“Indeed.” She murmured. “Though I do enjoy seeing the hustle and bustle of the students as they engage in their studies, I find myself needing a break every so often.”

“No argument here.”

There was a hum of agreement from the both of us, with the both of us saying nothing, as we were happy to be in each other’s presence.

She was growing more powerful with each passing day. Despite being a ghost, Helena had begun to solidify herself, her presence becoming more tangible and her interactions with the physical world more pronounced. Even venturing beyond the grounds of Hogwarts wasn’t something she would have been capable of a few months ago.

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the extent of her development. It was a testament to the strength and resilience of her own soul, which had guided her through nearly a millennium of misery.

“But something was missing.” Helena said. “So I came to you.”

“To me?” I said, Helena’s words bringing me back to the present moment. I considered the words. “It’s still Valentine’s Day, after all… Is that why?”

Helena’s eyes sparkled with fondness as she nodded in agreement.

“Indeed.” She replied warmly. “And I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather spend it with than you, Zero.”

Even though I expected this declaration, her words still took me by surprise. Despite our obvious differences, there was an undeniable connection between us, a bond that transcended the boundaries of life and death.

“… Me too.”

With a nod of affirmation, I smiled at Helena. Whatever the future held, I knew that moments like these were meant to be cherished.

Helena floated over to my bed and settled herself.

“Come and sit.”

I stared at her, a sense of warmth and trepidation washing over me as I obeyed. There were no words needed between us, only the feeling of touch between us as we leaned on each other, providing the other with warmth.

We stayed that way for the rest of the night.

oooo

February 24, 1993, 5:00 PM, Forbidden Forest

Harry Potter

Standing in an open field a few minutes away from Hagrid’s abode, Harry closed his eyes and allowed himself to be enveloped by the late winter breeze. Despite the lingering chill in the air, he sensed the subtle shift indicating that spring was on the horizon.

Harry pushed aside thoughts of the changing seasons, instead focusing on the power that simmered within him.

Deep within his being, like a pinprick of light in an ocean of darkness, lay a reservoir of untapped energy. It was a force that he had only recently begun to explore, yet he could now feel its potential coursing through him, waiting to be unleashed.

His mind brushed up against the pulsating core of power, and he felt a surge of energy ripple through him. Every nerve in his body came alive, tingling with anticipation and possibility.

With a sense of determination, Harry delved deeper into the wellspring of magic within him, seeking to harness its full potential. It was a delicate balance, like walking a tightrope between order and chaos, but Harry was undeterred.

Harry raised his hand, palm facing his face, and willed the power within him to respond to his command. He concentrated on the energy coursing through his veins, channeling it with precision and intent, though if he were to admit it to himself, the balance leaned far more heavily towards intent than precision.

Much of his power was being wasted, but he hoped that, with time, this would improve.

Harry made a pinching motion between his thumb and index finger, keeping a small distance between them. His energy coalesced into a crackling arc of bluish-white lightning. The air around his fingertips crackled with raw power, casting a faint glow in the dim light of the early evening.

A smile spread across Harry’s face as he marveled once again at the manifestation of his newfound abilities. It was a testament to his growing mastery over it, a tangible expression of the potential that lay within him.

With a sense of pride and accomplishment, Harry held the arc of lightning aloft for a while longer, savoring the sensation of power coursing through his veins. Feeling bold, Harry widened the gap between his fingers, and the arc of lightning grew stronger, its crackling energy filling the air with the distinct scent of ozone.

With a focused mind and steady hand, he honed in on his target, Adam, who sat nearby, poring over a ponderous tome.

With a flick of his wrist and index finger, Harry sent the thin arc of lightning flying through the air, aimed directly at Adam. The unsuspecting boy widened his eyes in shock as the arc struck him, causing him to shiver and spasm for a moment. His hair frizzed up with static electricity, but aside from the momentary discomfort, the arc did little more than irritate him.

As Adam recovered from the unexpected shock, Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“Harry, you piece of—” Adam shivered again. “I hate when you do that!”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Harry said absolutely without any remorse. “You okay, though?”

Adam rubbed at his tingling skin, annoyance flickering in his mismatched eyes.

“I’m fine.” He replied with a grunt, though his expression turned into a smile shortly after. “Just a little… shocked, that’s all.”

Harry smiled even as he palmed his face, the tension of the moment dissipating into amusement. For a brief moment, the two boys shared in the lightheartedness of the situation, their laughter echoing across the open field.

“It’s good though.” Adam said after a while. “You’ve graduated into bug-zapping territory. Before long, that magic will be a force to be reckoned with.”

“I’m not so sure…” Harry said. “Maybe that’s the extent of it?”

However, Adam shook his head, a look of confidence shining in his eyes.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Harry.” He insisted. “And besides, it’s not like you’ve been slowing down at all. Your progress is incredible, and I have a feeling that it won’t slow down for a long time.”

Harry waved off the praise, a modest smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“It’s really not that impressive.” He replied, his tone humble. “But maybe you’re right; I’m just starting to scratch the surface of what I can do. There’s still so much left to learn.”

“Yeah.” Adam nodded. “Just don’t ever fall into the trap of comparing yourself to others. Your own progress is what counts, and as long as you’re getting ahead of your past self, then you have nothing to feel bad about.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Harry admitted, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced.

Adam sighed.

“I realize this sort of mindset isn’t something you can beat in a single night, but it really isn’t about seeing if you’re performing better than anyone else, Harry.” He explained gently. “It’s about being the best version of yourself. Does that make sense?”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Harry said, still uncertain. Hoping to shift the conversation away from the topic of comparison, Harry asked Adam about his most recent project. “So, any progress on what you’re working on?”

Adam’s expression soured at the mention of it, and he sighed heavily.

“Not much, I’m afraid.” He admitted. “I’m still struggling with the process of making Gubraithian Flame. It’s really frustrating me.”

Harry frowned sympathetically.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He said reassuringly, offering his friend a supportive smile. “If anyone can, it’s you. You’ve always been brilliant at this stuff, Adam. Just keep at it.”

“Thanks, Harry.” Adam said appreciatively, his frustration evident as he tried to explain the problem he was facing with creating Gubraithian Flame. “So, here’s the thing.”

He got up, waved his wand a few times, and had a fire going between them. “The issue with conventional fire is that it consumes fuel as it burns. It’s a chemical product of combustion, which means it requires a constant source of fuel to sustain itself.”

He paused, searching for the right words to convey his dilemma as he fed more wood to the fire.

“The spell ‘Incendio,’ for example, doesn’t create an eternal fire, like the Gubraithian Flame.” He continued. “It merely accelerates the combustion process by rapidly increasing the temperature of the fuel— in this case, firewood— to ignite it. But true Gubraithian Flame is different— it burns eternally, without the need for fuel. You can see where the problem is.”

“Yeah.”

Adam sighed at that, frustration evident in his voice.

“I just can’t wrap my head around how to replicate that kind of perpetual energy.” He admitted. “I’m honestly stumped.”

Harry furrowed his brow in thought, pondering possible solutions to Adam’s problem. Then, an idea struck him.

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to help you, but since this is Charms work, have you considered asking Professor Flitwick for help?” Harry suggested. “He will probably know how to do it.”

“I…” Adam said, hesitating. “I’ve considered that.”

“Then—” Harry said, stopping himself. “You just don’t want to ask for help, do you?”

“It’s not that.” Adam said, shaking his head. “Well, okay, it’s partly that.”

“All right…” Harry said, not sure where Adam was going with this. “And the other part is…?”

“Well.” Adam said, grimacing a little. “After the incident with Blackthorn, I haven’t really wanted to bother the Professor. He didn’t seem pleased with how I dealt with him and his friends.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something, before closing it.

There really wasn’t much he could offer there.

“You’re right, though.” Adam said. “I’ll try asking him. I guess, if I don’t figure it out soon. It wouldn’t hurt; the worst he’ll say is no.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Harry smiled and nodded, happy to have offered a solution to his adopted brother’s problem.

A moment later, he noticed someone approaching from a distance. “Look over there.”

“Oh?” Adam said, halfway bent over to pick up his book as he stopped to get a better look. “It’s… Fleur? What does she want?”

Harry shrugged, his attention drifting back to Adam.

“Who knows…” He replied casually.

“Ugh.” Adam said. “I’m not really up for dealing with anyone else right now. I was enjoying time with my boy.”

Harry aimed a swat at Adam’s head, but the boy dodged it. “Idiot. We’re the same age.”

“Silence, child!”

Snorting, Harry shook his head, but then nudged it in Fleur’s direction. “Still, let’s wait and see what she has to say.”

The two boys returned to their conversation, enjoying each other’s company while they waited for Fleur to arrive.

As she approached, Harry couldn’t help but notice the subtle signs of her Veela magic attempting to ensnare them, only to abruptly rein itself in. It was a strange and unsettling sight, one that left him feeling slightly off-balance.

At least she’s practicing control. Harry thought, remembering an incident a few months back involving a few boys who’d quite eagerly attempted to win her over.

It had not ended well for them.

“Fleur. Hello.” Adam took the initiative and greeted Fleur with a friendly smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Was there anything you wanted?”

Fleur nodded.

“Adam. ‘Arry. It is good to see you.” She said, her expression serious. “Have you been preparing well for your matches?”

Both boys nodded.

“You?” Harry asked.

She gave a hum in the affirmative and then turned her cold gaze to Adam. “Would you be interested in aiding in my preparation?”

Adam said nothing, but Harry could feel the boy holding back a sigh. He had to bite back a smirk at the irony of the situation— Adam, who had recently been doing his damned best to avoid any and all interactions with other people, was now being sought out for assistance by yet another person.

Adam’s smile faltered for a moment as he considered Fleur’s request.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure if I have the time or inclination.” He admitted reluctantly, his tone hesitant. “Sorry. I don’t think I can—”

But then he stopped himself, his gaze narrowing as he studied Fleur closely.

Harry recognized the tell immediately— Adam always tilted his head when he was studying someone’s ‘ soul threads’, as he called it. It was a habit he had picked up at some point, and Harry wasn’t sure the boy was even aware of it.

I’ll have to tell him about it soon.

Fleur seemed to sense Adam’s scrutiny and met his gaze with a curious expression. Harry watched with interest as the two of them exchanged a silent conversation, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.

Finally, Adam seemed to come to a decision, his expression clearing as he offered Fleur a small smile.

“You know what? Maybe I could give it a shot.” He said, catching the two of them by surprise.

“Just like that?” Fleur said, seemingly ready to celebrate an easy victory, but Adam held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks. Her expression shifted from anticipation to confusion as she frowned at him, waiting for him to speak.

“No, not just like that.” Adam waited for a moment before finally speaking up. “I’ll help you; on one condition.”

Fleur’s frown deepened, her brow furrowing in both confusion and suspicion. “And what condition is that?”

Adam simply pointed at Harry.

“You have to have a duel against him.” He declared, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

What?

Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief as he processed Adam’s words. Him, fight Fleur? The thought was ludicrous— she would wipe the floor with him in a matter of seconds! She was several years ahead of him, and he’d focused most of his attention this year on the Quidditch tournament.

What the bloody hell was Adam thinking, dragging him into this?

Fleur’s expression mirrored Harry’s disbelief as she stared at Adam in shock.

“You want me to duel ‘Arry?” She repeated, her tone incredulous. “But why?”

Adam shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Why not?” He replied casually. “It’ll be good practice for both of you. Besides, it’ll be fun to see who comes out on top.”

Fleur’s frown deepened, but she seemed to be considering Adam’s proposal. After a moment of silence, she turned to Harry, her expression unreadable.

“What do you say, Harry? Are you up for a duel?” She asked, her voice tinged with challenge.

Harry gulped nervously as he looked between Adam and Fleur, feeling a knot of apprehension form in the pit of his stomach. It didn’t feel like he had much of a choice in this— Adam seemed determined to throw him to the wolves, and Fleur was already sizing him up with a challenging glint in her eyes.

Forcing himself to move, Harry began to make his way to one side of the clearing, his steps hesitant and unsure. But before he could take another step, he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

Annoyed, Harry turned to face Adam, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion.

“Why did you drag me into this mess?” He demanded, his voice tinged with irritation. “Well?”

But Adam seemed unperturbed by Harry’s annoyance, his gaze steady as he met his adopted brother’s eyes.

“Because this is a good way to show you how far you’ve come.” He replied calmly.

Harry frowned, not quite understanding what Adam meant by that.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

“You wanted to compare yourself to others, right? Let’s have it your way, for once.” Adam said, though his expression softened as he gave Harry’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Just focus on two things in this fight, Harry. Your new power, and the basics. Trust me, you’ve got this.”

Still not particularly convinced, Harry nevertheless squared his shoulders and turned to face Fleur, his mind racing with a mix of nerves and determination. Whatever this was, he decided, then and there, to do his best.

After all was said and done, he swore he was going to punch Adam in the face.

Standing at the center of the clearing between Harry and Fleur, Adam gave the two a nod, silently asking if they were ready to begin. Seeing them draw their wands and get into stances, he took a few steps back, positioning himself out of harm’s way, and yelled for them to start.

Harry’s instincts kicked in immediately as he stepped to the right, narrowly avoiding a jet of red light that sailed past him. Without missing a beat, he took a quick backstep, dodging a yellow spell aimed at his foot. The spell crashed against the ground, sending dirt and ice chips flying into the air, but Harry was already on the offensive.

“Expelliarmus!” With a flick of his wand, he sent a Disarming Charm hurtling through the cloud of debris towards Fleur. The older witch was quick to react, deflecting the spell with a graceful flick of her own wand, sending it harmlessly off course.

The two opponents continued to exchange spells, their movements fluid and precise as they danced around each other in the clearing. Harry focused on keeping his offense simple, and his defense tight.

The basics.

Despite his initial apprehension, Harry found himself getting into the rhythm of the duel, his adrenaline pumping as he focused on his opponent and the task at hand. With each spell he cast and each dodge he executed, he felt a surge of confidence coursing through him— maybe he could hold his own against Fleur after all.

The smirk came onto the young woman’s face as soon as he started feeling comfortable. With a twist of her wand, she upped the ante, unleashing a barrage of spells that forced Harry onto the backfoot.

Harry’s reflexes were quick, but he found himself struggling to keep up with Fleur’s relentless onslaught. Despite his best efforts to dodge and deflect her spells, he couldn’t quite match her precision and finesse. Though he managed to disperse much of the effects of the spells coming at him, he still felt the sting of cuts and impacts against his body whenever he was forced to directly defend against them.

His deflections, sadly, still needed work. He was being damaged and soon, he would be overpowered. Not long after he thought this, the pressure became too much to bear, and Harry stumbled, falling onto one knee as he struggled to catch his breath. Fleur paused, her expression expectant as she looked towards Adam for a decision.

Adam, however, did not call an end to the match. Instead, he nodded to Harry, a silent encouragement for him to continue.

He’d seen that look on the boy’s face. Adam was telling him that he could do better.

Despite his exhaustion and the sting of his injuries, Harry gritted his teeth and forced himself to push through the pain, determination shining in his eyes as he slowly rose to his feet. Adam was right; Harry may have been brought down, but he wasn’t out— not yet. With a deep breath, he readied himself for whatever Fleur had in store next, his resolve stronger than ever.

Use your power and the basics. Harry thought again, finally deciding to follow his adopted brother’s words. His mind brushed against the elusive power inside him, and it answered his call.

Instantly, his stance shifted into something far more comfortable, more graceful, and he started the duel once again. This time, however, it seemed that her spells could no longer reach him. Though their speed remained the same, he could project their paths with almost laughable ease, and so dodged those that he could, and deflected or shielded against those that he couldn’t.

Soon enough, he had Fleur on the backfoot. He sent out a series of rapidfire spells, all aimed at various points on and around Fleur, and he watched her scramble for a moment before she erected a large Shield Charm around her, absorbing all of Harry’s spells before shattering.

“Take this seriously, Fleur.” Adam’s voice came, putting a pause in their fight. “Or do you want someone other than Claire to die in the future?”

Fleur’s face twisted in a mask of cold fury at the callous, casual mention of her departed friend’s name, and to be fair, Harry couldn’t blame her.

I am really going to punch him after this.

Fleur’s eyes narrowed as she tore her murderous gaze from Adam before focusing her attention on Harry. He could feel the intensity coming off of the young witch, the weight of her anger bearing down on him like a physical force.

Harry didn’t have time to dwell.

In the blink of an eye, Fleur unleashed another spell, and Harry’s instincts kicked in, urging him to move. With a swift sidestep, he narrowly avoided the spell, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched it cleave through a nearby tree with terrifying ease, leaving it split in two and burning fiercely.

The realization of just how close he had come to being struck sent a shiver down Harry’s spine, but he pushed aside his fear, focusing instead on the task at hand.

More than that, her Veela nature is giving her spell the added effect of burning…

He knew that he couldn’t afford to let his guard down for even a moment— not if he wanted to stand a chance against Fleur in this duel. And so, he steeled his will and faced his opponent.

Soon, however, he realized that, even with his newfound power, Harry found himself pushed to his limits, desperately trying to keep up with her barrage of spells and fireballs. With each attack, he felt the strain the energy in his body was bringing down upon him.

Still, Harry refused to give up.

Drawing deeper and deeper from his power, he matched Fleur’s pace, his movements becoming more fluid and instinctual as he tapped into the mysterious force inside him. He focused on deflecting her spells, his mind a blur of concentration as he fought to stay one step ahead of his opponent.

Despite his best efforts, Harry soon found himself cornered, with Fleur’s spells closing in on him from all sides. It felt like déjà vu— reminiscent of his first real practice against Adam— but this time, Harry embraced the power coursing through him, allowing it to guide his actions.

Harry felt himself enrobed in light as the world around him seemed to shift and blur. He blinked and found himself standing behind Fleur, his body instinctively raising his wand, poising it to strike.

She turned to him, but it was too late.

“Flipendo!” Harry unleashed a powerful knockback spell, sending Fleur tumbling to the ground with a thud. But even as he did so, he felt the impact of her own spell hitting him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards in a whirl of pain and confusion.

As the dust settled, both combatants struggled to catch their breath. The two forced themselves to get back to their feet, ready to resume their duel.

Before either of them knew it, however, they were suddenly ensnared by chains, their wands torn from their hands and their bodies lifted into the air. Harry’s heart raced with panic as he struggled against his restraints for a moment before realizing his predicament and calming down.

Adam was standing nearby, chain protruding from the tip of his upraised wand as he took a few steps forward. Fleur’s face contorted in a furious expression, but before she could voice her outrage, Adam spoke up, his voice calm and measured as he addressed his two captives.

“I’ve seen enough.” He said simply, his gaze flicking between Harry and Fleur. “Fleur, you pass.”

Harry’s confusion only deepened at Adam’s words, but before he could question him further, he felt Fleur’s struggles subside as she calmed herself, her expression one of mixed fury and resignation.

As the adrenaline of the duel began to fade, Harry too felt a sense of exhaustion wash over him, his muscles aching from the strain of the battle. Adam lowered Harry and Fleur to the ground and released them from their restraints, though he kept a wary eye on Fleur, chains still very ready to shield him against any potential retaliation from Fleur.

He’d better. Harry thought. After the cruel words Adam had spoken earlier, he deserved whatever consequences came his way.

Fleur, however, walked up to him even as he raised his hands.

“Fleur, I want to say I’m sorry about—” That was as far as he got when the young woman slapped him squarely in the face, sending him stumbling back as she started screaming at him in French.

To Harry’s sheer surprise, Adam took it, not offering up a single word of protest. Harry could only imagine what was being said.

“You’re right. I am sorry.” He reiterated again, tensing when the girl took another threatening step forward. “But I needed to see how serious you were. I’m not looking to have my time wasted, right now.”

“You…”

“I know; I pushed you too far— both of you. I wanted to see the full extent of your power.” Adam said, still looking contrite.

To Harry’s surprise, Fleur did not strike the boy again, instead glaring at him as she spoke. “Sunday. Here. Two in the afternoon.”

“As you wish.”

Then, she left without another word.

As Harry watched Fleur’s retreating figure, a frown creased his brow as he turned to Adam, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Adam.” He admonished, his voice firm. “That really hurt her, I think.”

For a moment, the boy remained silent, his gaze distant as he contemplated Harry’s perspective.

“I’ll have to make up for it later.”

“That’s an understatement.” Harry said, slowly approaching the boy.

“What do you—”

Harry punched him, knocking him down.

“What was that for!”

“That was for riling her up and then turning her sights to me!” Harry said as he raised his fist again, chasing the boy. “And thi— Hey! Don’t you run away from me, Clarke!”

“Hey, stop that!”

And so the evening was filled with the tortured cries of Harry’s brother.

Revenge was sweet.