Power

April 10, 1992, 8:30 PM, Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts

Adam Clarke

As we made our way down the pyramid, the gravity of the situation became more apparent. The once-fierce competition had transformed into a rescue mission.

“Over here!” Hien called out, kneeling beside a Beauxbatons student who was slumped against a wall.

I hurried over, my wand at the ready.

“Episkey.” I muttered, watching as the gash on her forehead sealed itself. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion evident in her gaze.

Akio was already moving to the next fallen duelist, a Longling boy whose robes were singed from a particularly nasty hex.

“Rennervate.” He cast, then helped the boy to his feet.

As we worked our way down, I couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly we’d adapted to this new dynamic. Just minutes ago, we were trying to beat each other down to dust; now, we moved with surprising coordination, each of us falling into roles that complemented the others.

Kwame, despite his broken arm, proved invaluable. His knowledge of Healing Charms from Uagadou came in handy as we encountered more serious injuries.

“We need to move faster.” I said, helping a dazed Ilvermorny student to her feet. “Whatever’s happening out there, it’s not getting any quieter.”

The others nodded grimly. We picked up the pace, our group growing larger with each revived contestant. By the time we reached the base of the pyramid, we had a small army of battered but determined young wizards at our backs.

I did a quick headcount. Twelve of us in total, including Fleur and Mira. The confusion on their faces mirrored the uncertainty I felt.

“Alright, everyone, listen up.” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the distant chaos. “Something’s gone wrong outside. We don’t know what, but it’s not part of the tournament.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed. “How can you be sure?”

“The screams.” Fleur answered grimly, eyes unfocused as if she was in a faraway place. A moment later, her gaze focused onto me. “I know that sound anywhere. Yes, Adam?”

I nodded.

A murmur of unease rippled through the group. I held up my hand for silence.

“We need to get back to the top of the pyramid.” I continued. “It’s our only way out of here. Once we reach the crystal, we should be transported back to the main arena— at least, I assume so. From there, we can figure out what’s happening and how to help.”

Akio stepped forward. “We’ll need to work together. Some of you are injured, so we’ll move as a group. Anyone who’s too tired to move should be ready to cast Shield Charms, instead. We’ll do the work.”

Mira, clutching her side where a nasty hex had caught her, spoke up. “And what if whatever’s causing the panic is waiting for us when we get there?”

I met her gaze steadily. “Then we face it together. We may have been competitors, but right now, we’re all that each other has.”

Kwame nodded. “Adam’s right. We stand a better chance united.”

I looked around at the faces of my fellow contestants— some determined, some scared, all resolute.

“Any questions?” When no one spoke, I turned towards the pyramid’s steep incline. “Alright then. Let’s move.”

As we began our ascent, the screams from beyond our magical arena grew louder. Whatever awaited us outside, I knew our real test was just beginning.

As we reached the crystal atop the pyramid, I turned to the group.

“Hien, take my hand.” I said, my voice steady despite the tension thrumming through me. “Everyone else, form a chain. We need to stay connected.”

The others quickly complied, linking hands in a line. I could feel the nervous energy pulsing through our makeshift alliance.

Akio’s voice cut through the tension.

“Sharpen your wits.” He said, his eyes scanning each face. “We’ll need to be at our best to face whatever’s out there.”

With a deep breath, I reached out and touched the crystal. There was a blinding flash of light, a sensation of being pulled through space, and then—

As we materialized in the main arena, the full extent of the chaos hit me like a physical blow. The once-pristine stadium was now a war zone, illuminated by the sickly glow of dark spells and the orange flicker of fires.

In the distance, beyond the ring of enemy wizards surrounding us, I saw the fallen. Bodies lay scattered across the stands and field, some moving weakly, others terrifyingly still. The sight sent a chill down my spine, memories of Phantasime flashing unbidden through my mind. The same senseless violence, the same disregard for innocent life.

Screams echoed from all directions, punctuated by the crack of spells and the crash of collapsing structures. Smoke billowed from several points in the stadium, obscuring parts of the chaotic scene. Through gaps in the haze, I could see pockets of resistance— officers and brave spectators fighting back against forces wearing a singular uniform.

“Grindelwald.” I snarled.

The Quidditch Pitch was barely recognizable. One set of goal hoops had been torn from the ground, now lying twisted and broken across the field. The stands where the heads of schools had been seated were a splintered ruin, evidence of the targeted attack that had kicked off this nightmare.

As my eyes swept the devastation, a cold fury settled in my chest. This wasn’t just an attack; it was an atrocity. And we were perhaps the only ones in a position to turn the tide.

I locked eyes with Akio, seeing the same rage reflected there. Without a word, we raised our wands, ready to unleash Hell on those responsible for this carnage.

“Confringo!” I roared, as Akio shouted. “Kazekiri!“

Our spells shot forth, striking the unsuspecting enemies. My Blasting Curse exploded on impact, pulping my target and sending those around it flying, while Akio’s curse left deep, vicious gashes on those it hit. The screams of pain and surprise cut through the air.

“No mercy!” Akio yelled, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity.

I echoed his cry. “They’ve shown none to the innocents. No mercy!”

Our allies hesitated for only a moment before following our lead. Hien’s spectral wolves came to life, lunging and nipping at the heels of their foes, crippling many instead of merely distracting. Fleur’s fireballs burned with an intensity that left charred flesh in their wake. Even Kwame, one-armed, was transfiguring debris into razor-sharp projectiles, while another one of the competitors banished them into the enemy.

The enemy wizards turned to face us, shock quickly replaced by rage. But we had seized the initiative, and we pressed our advantage ruthlessly.

“Ossio Dispersimus!” Mira cast, the sickly yellow spell crashing into an approaching attacker and shattering his bones, filling the air with a bloodcurdling scream. Beside me, Akio’s wand work was a blur, each spell more devastating than the last.

Our group spread out, forming a loose circle. Where before there might have been hesitation or restraint, now there was only grim determination. These weren’t schoolyard hexes or tournament spells— this was war.

“Keep pushing!” I shouted over the din of battle. “Don’t let them regroup!”

The fight raged on, spells flying in all directions. But it was clear that our unexpected assault and brutal tactics had thrown Grindelwald’s forces into disarray. As I ducked under a Killing Curse and retaliated with a Reductor Curse that left a crater where my attacker had stood, I realized that this was the real test.

This wasn’t about winning a trophy or impressing judges. This was about survival, about protecting the innocent people beyond this arena. And as I saw my fellow contestants— no, my fellow warriors— fighting with everything they had, I truly understood the point of this tournament.

The battle was far from over, but we had set the tone. No mercy for those who would threaten our world. No quarter for Grindelwald’s followers. Whatever the cost, we would stand our ground.

As the last of our immediate opponents fell, I found myself scanning the chaotic battlefield, desperately searching for any sign of Harry. The smoke, debris, and constant movement made it impossible to spot him among the mayhem.

Our group turned to me, their faces a mix of determination and uncertainty. They were looking for direction, for a plan. Akio opened his mouth, seemingly ready to take charge, but then he paused and turned to me instead.

“We need to find others to join us and push back against these invaders.” He said, deferring to my leadership.

I nodded, my mind racing to formulate a strategy, when suddenly Dumbledore’s voice boomed across the arena, magically amplified to cut through the din of battle.

“Fear not, my friends! We will prevail, this day! Brave men and women of the DMLE, lend us your aid. Let not a single attacker escape!”

His words brought a moment of clarity to the chaos, providing much-needed direction.

“The rest of you, flee this place! Carry the wounded if you must! Head back to the castle. Above all, stay calm! We will see to those in your way.”

As Dumbledore’s instructions faded, I turned to our group, my resolve strengthened.

“Alright, you heard the old man. We need to split up.” I said, my voice firm despite the fear gnawing at my insides. “Some of us should help with the evacuation while the rest join the DMLE in pushing back the attackers.”

I quickly assessed our group, my eyes landing on Fleur. “Fleur, I need you to lead the evacuation effort. Your leadership skills will be crucial in guiding people to safety.”

To my surprise, Fleur’s eyes flashed with determination and anger.

“Non.” She said firmly, her accent thickening with emotion. “I will not run, Adam. The only way to truly protect people is to stop these attackers.”

“Fleur, please.” I argued. “People need guidance to get out safely—”

She cut me off, her voice passionate. “And what good iz zat if more attackers keep coming? We must strike at the source. I am a— championne— chosen to represent my school. I will not abandon this fight. Jamais!“

I hesitated, seeing the fierce resolve in her eyes. Part of me knew she was right— we needed every skilled wand we could get in this battle.

“She’s right.” Hien chimed in, shaking his head at me. “We’re some of the best duelists here. We can make a real difference in the fight.”

I looked around at the others, seeing similar determination on their faces. With a sigh, I nodded.

“Alright.” I said, thinking quickly. “Fine, fine. Kwame, can you lead the evacuation with some of the others we’ve revived? Your transfiguration skills could be invaluable in clearing paths and creating barriers.”

Kwame nodded grimly.

“The rest of us will fight.” I continued. “We should try to link up with the DMLE. We’ll be more effective as part of a coordinated effort.”

As Kwame gathered a few of the less combat-ready contestants to help with the evacuation, I turned back to our fighting group.

“Be careful, all of you.” I said, meeting each of their eyes. “And remember, we’re not just fighting for ourselves now. We’re fighting for everyone in this arena.”

With that, we moved out, plunging back into the fray. As I ran, my wand at the ready, I couldn’t shake the gnawing worry about Harry’s fate. In a moment of desperation, I sent a silent plea to Alef Ard.

My friend, please. Help Harry, would you? Forget about me for now. I can take care of myself.

Our progress was suddenly halted as we encountered another group of Grindelwald’s followers blocking our path. Their wands were raised, malice gleaming in their eyes. Without looking back, I could sense the readiness emanating from my allies.

I raised my wand, moving it over my other arm. Chains materialized, wrapping around my limb— a makeshift armor and weapon combined. Around me, I heard the rustle of robes and the subtle shift of stances as the others prepared themselves for the impending clash.

My eyes narrowed, focusing on the enemies before us. The air crackled with tension, magic ready to burst forth at a moment’s notice. In that brief pause before the storm, I spoke, my voice low and filled with cold fury.

Had I a mirror, I would have seen that my white eye was glowing.

“Kill them all.”

oooo

Harry Potter

Harry crested the hill overlooking Hogwarts Castle, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Beside him ran Sirius, Hermione, Ron, and a handful of others, their faces etched with worry and determination.

The absence of Su and Tony weighed heavily on their minds, having been separated in the chaos that had erupted at the tournament grounds.

As they ran, Harry’s thoughts turned to Adam. Was he still trapped in the final stage’s maze or pyramid? The uncertainty gnawed at him, and he fervently hoped his brother was safe.

Suddenly, Sirius’s arm shot out, wand in hand. A spell burst forth, striking a figure perched in a nearby tree. The person tumbled to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Got another one of Grindelwald’s—” Sirius began, but his words cut off abruptly. “Bloody hell!”

Harry’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened. The fallen figure wasn’t one of Grindelwald’s followers, but a magical law enforcer. The man groaned, struggling to his feet, his official robes now torn and dirty.

“What the hell were you doing up there?” Sirius demanded, his voice rough with anger and confusion. “People are suffering down there, and you’re hiding in a tree?”

The law enforcer stammered, trying to explain, but Harry barely heard him. His mind raced, grappling with the implications. Why would a trained officer be hiding instead of helping? The situation was even more dire than he’d thought if even the authorities were succumbing to fear.

Harry’s fists clenched at his sides. They couldn’t afford cowardice, not now.

Not when so many lives hung in the balance. His thoughts returned to Adam, to Su and Tony, to all the innocent people caught in this nightmare. They needed to act, and fast.

With renewed determination, Harry turned to his companions. It was clear now more than ever that they couldn’t rely solely on the authorities. They would have to take matters into their own hands.

Harry turned to Sirius, his eyes blazing with determination.

“We need to go back and get Adam.” He said urgently.

Sirius shook his head firmly, his face etched with concern. “No, Harry. I can’t put you in any more danger. Once you’re safely at the castle, I’ll go back myself to find him.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione’s voice cut through the tension, trembling with fear.

“Please, don’t fight.” She pleaded, her eyes darting between Harry and Sirius. “Not now, please…”

For a moment, Harry stared at Hermione, seeing the genuine fear in her eyes. With a heavy sigh, he nodded, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. “You’re right, Hermione. We need to stick together.”

As the group resumed their trek towards the castle, Harry suddenly felt a familiar buzz in his head. Alef Ard was reaching out to him.

Focusing his thoughts, Harry mentally asked the spirit. Is Adam alright?

The response came as a positive buzz, but Harry sensed an undercurrent of worry in Alef Ard’s communication. It didn’t take long for Harry to decipher the spirit’s concern. He knew his brother all too well.

“Adam’s okay. He’s pretty stubborn.” Harry said aloud to the group, forcing determination into his voice. “But knowing him, he’s probably seeking out more fighting, even if he’s exhausted. Trying to buy us more time.”

Sirius’s face tightened with a mixture of pride and concern. “That sounds like Adam, alright.”

Ron shook his head, a wry smile on his face despite the situation. “Mental, that one. I just hope he knows not to push himself too far.”

Not likely. Harry thought as Alef gave the mental equivalent of a snort.

As they continued their journey to the castle, Harry’s mind raced with conflicting emotions. Relief that Adam was alive warred with worry over the dangers he was surely facing. Part of him still wanted to turn back, to fight alongside his brother. But he knew that the best thing he could do now was to reach safety and then find a way to help from there.

“Hold on, Adam.” Harry muttered under his breath. “We’ll find a way to help. Just… stay alive until then.”

With renewed determination, Harry pressed on towards Hogwarts, knowing that every step brought them closer to safety— and hopefully, to finding a way to turn the tide of this unexpected battle.

As they crested another hill, Harry’s eyes widened at the sight before them. A group of wizards and witches in matching unfamiliar uniforms were approaching rapidly, their wands raised and ready.

Sirius reacted instantly.

“Run!” He shouted, already unleashing a barrage of spells at the oncoming threat. “Go, now!”

Harry didn’t hesitate. He turned, urging the others forward while simultaneously firing off spells of his own. His curses found their marks, knocking several attackers off their feet. Ron had grabbed Hermione’s hand, practically dragging her along as they fled.

After a few paces, Harry skidded to a stop, turning back to check on Sirius. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat.

Sirius was engaged in combat with four wizards simultaneously, his wand a blur of motion. He blocked spells from multiple angles, pivoting and sidestepping to prevent the attackers from surrounding him completely. His movements were fluid, almost dance-like in their precision, but Harry could see the strain on his face. Sirius couldn’t keep this up forever.

Then, Harry’s keen eyes caught a shimmer of magic behind Sirius – the telltale sign of a Disillusionment Charm. A hidden attacker, poised to strike.

Without conscious thought, Harry’s wand was up, his voice ringing out with determination. “Expelliarmus!”

The spell that burst from his wand was far more powerful than he’d intended, fueled by fear for Sirius and anger at the cowardly tactic. It struck the concealed attacker dead-on, not only disarming them but sending them flying backward, their camouflage shattering as they tumbled across the ground.

Sirius, alerted by Harry’s shout, spun to see the newly revealed threat. His eyes met Harry’s for a brief moment, a mix of gratitude and renewed urgency in his gaze.

“Well done, Harry; now, go!” Sirius yelled, already turning back to face his opponents. “I’ll hold them off. Get to the castle!”

Harry stood frozen for a moment, torn between the need to flee and the desire to stay and fight alongside his adoptive father. But he knew Sirius was right— he had to get the others to safety.

With a last look at Sirius, still holding his own against the attackers, Harry turned and sprinted after his friends.

His heart pounded in his chest, fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins. As he ran, he silently promised both Sirius and Adam that he’d find a way to help, to turn the tide of this unexpected battle. 

But first, they had to reach the castle. Only then could they regroup, plan, and find a way to fight back against this threat that had shattered the peace of their world.

As they approached the castle, the gates of the entrance hall finally came into view. Harry felt a surge of relief, turning to Hermione with a reassuring smile.

“We’re almost there.” He panted. “Just a bit further and we’ll be safe.”

But his words of comfort were cut short by a chilling voice that seemed to materialize from the shadows.

“Not as safe as you think, Potter.”

Harry whirled around, his wand already in motion. Before him stood an older wizard, but this one wasn’t dressed like Grindelwald’s followers. He wore a dark cloak with the hood drawn up, and a mask with snake-like eye slits covered his face.

Time seemed to slow as Harry’s instincts kicked in.

“Protego!” He shouted, just as the masked figure launched his attack. The spell crashed against Harry’s hastily erected shield, the impact sending vibrations up his arm.

“Ron!” Harry called out, not taking his eyes off his opponent. “Take Hermione and go! I’m counting on you!”

He heard Ron’s frustrated grunt, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. Ron was clearly unhappy about leaving Harry behind, but he understood the urgency of getting Hermione to safety.

The masked wizard let out a low, mocking laugh. “Not bad, Potter. That’s quite the Shield Charm for someone so young.”

Harry gritted his teeth, his grip on his wand tightening. The compliment, delivered with such condescension, only served to fuel his determination. He could feel the weight of exhaustion from their frantic escape, but he pushed it aside. This was no time for weakness.

As he faced his opponent, Harry’s mind raced. This wizard was different from the others they’d encountered. The mask, the confidence, the way he’d singled Harry out— it all pointed to someone far more dangerous than a mere grunt.

Harry adjusted his stance, wand at the ready. He knew he was in for a brutal duel, but he had no choice. He had to buy time for Ron and Hermione to reach safety, had to hold out until help arrived. 

With a deep breath, Harry steeled himself. Whatever this masked wizard had in store, he would face it. He had to. Too much was at stake to fail now.

Harry dropped his shield and attacked without hesitation, cutting off his opponent mid-sentence.

“Stupefy!” He shouted, followed immediately by. “Expelliarmus!“

The masked wizard, caught off-guard by Harry’s sudden aggression, barely managed to deflect the Stunning Spell. The Disarming Charm grazed his arm, causing his wand to twitch but not fly from his grasp.

Harry pressed his advantage, moving forward with a flurry of spells. “Impedimenta! Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous!“

His opponent stumbled backward, forced to go on the defensive. The older wizard’s wand whipped through the air, creating shimmering barriers that absorbed Harry’s attacks. But Harry could see the strain in his movements, the slight delay in his reactions.

Seizing the moment, Harry changed tactics.

“Depulso!” With a roar, he sent the largest rock he could hurtling towards his enemy’s face. As the wizard swatted at the projectile, Harry followed up with a powerful Exploding Charm aimed at the ground in front of his opponent. “Bombarda!“

The explosion sent dirt and debris flying, momentarily obscuring the masked figure. Harry, heart pounding, kept his wand trained on the dust cloud, ready for a counterattack.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if Harry had gained the upper hand. But then, a sudden buzz from Alef Ard rang through his mind— a warning.

Without questioning the spirit’s prompt, Harry dropped to the ground. A jet of oh-so-familiar green light sailed over his head, right where he had been standing a split second before. The spell hit a tree behind him, obliterating it and sending shards of wood flying every which way.

As Harry scrambled back to his feet, he saw the masked wizard emerging from the dust cloud, his stance now radiating a deadly seriousness. The initial look of surprise was gone, replaced by a focused intensity that made Harry’s blood run cold.

“Impressive, Potter.” The wizard said, his voice low and dangerous. “But playtime is over.”

Harry raised his wand, ready to continue the fight, but he knew the dynamic had shifted. His initial advantage was gone, and now he faced an opponent who would no longer underestimate him.

Harry steeled himself. He held no illusions of grandeur. It was always going to be this way. He had to hold out, had to survive. Much as the thought galled him, it was all he could do.

As Harry’s opponent regained his composure, the tide of the battle quickly turned. The masked wizard unleashed a barrage of spells, each more vicious than the last. Harry found himself being pushed back, his wand a blur as he desperately parried and blocked.

“Protego!” Harry shouted, deflecting a nasty-looking curse.

He countered with a “Flipendo!” but his opponent batted it away effortlessly.

Suddenly, Harry felt something wrap around his ankle. He glanced down for a split second to see a thorny vine coiling tight, and in that moment of distraction, his foe struck.

“Everte Statum!” The masked wizard bellowed.

The spell caught Harry square in the chest, yanking him off his feet. As the vine went taut, pulling Harry back down, his instincts kicked in. Even as he fell, he managed to aim his wand and shout. “Reducto!“

The curse flew from his wand, catching his opponent by surprise. The masked wizard barely managed to erect a shield, but the force of the spell still sent him staggering backward.

Harry hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He could hear his foe recovering, already preparing another attack. Without hesitation, Harry began to roll, ignoring the burning pain in his chest from the fall.

Jets of light peppered the ground where he had been lying, grass and dirt exploding with each impact. As he rolled, Harry felt a searing pain in his ankle. The thorny vine was still wrapped tight, its barbs digging into his flesh as he wrenched his leg free.

“Argh!” Harry couldn’t suppress a cry of pain as the thorns tore at his skin. He knew it was a mistake the moment the sound left his lips— showing weakness to an enemy like this could be fatal.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Harry scrambled to his feet. Blood trickled down his ankle, and he could feel the sting of numerous small punctures. But there was no time to worry about that now.

He raised his wand once more, facing his opponent. The masked wizard stood tall, seemingly unruffled by Harry’s earlier counterattack. Harry could almost sense the cruel smile behind that snake-like mask.

“Running out of tricks, Potter?” The wizard taunted. “Perhaps it’s time to end this little game.”

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, ignoring the trembling in his arms from exertion and pain.

“I’m just getting started.” Harry shot back, trying to inject confidence into his voice even as he frantically tried to think of a way out of this increasingly dire situation.

Harry’s mind raced, searching for a solution. He knew he had only one option left— a skill he’d been developing with Adam, but one he was far from mastering. It was risky, but he was out of alternatives.

Lightning…

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Harry reached deep within himself, calling forth the essence of electricity that he’d been learning to harness. He felt it stirring, a wild and untamed force that made every cell in his body tingle with barely contained power.

To his opponent, it appeared as if Harry was wavering, struggling to even remain standing. The masked wizard let out a derisive laugh.

“Is this all the great Harry Potter has to offer?” He sneered. “I expected more of a challenge.”

Harry barely heard the taunt. His focus had narrowed to a laser point, centering on his opponent’s voice. The electricity within him surged, threatening to overwhelm him. He gritted his teeth, fighting for control.

Then, in a burst of movement that surprised even Harry, he acted.

White smoke erupted around him, crackling with static electricity. In a blink, Harry was moving, his form almost blurring with speed. The masked wizard’s eyes widened in shock behind his mask, but he had no time to react.

Harry slammed into his opponent with the force of a lightning bolt, the impact sending the man flying backward. The wizard hit the ground hard.

He stumbled, gasping for breath, his entire body trembling from the exertion. Smoke still wisped off his clothes, and small arcs of electricity danced across his skin.

Harry turned to face his fallen opponent, wand raised despite his exhaustion. He’d managed to knock the man down, but he knew this fight was far from over. The question now was whether he had enough left in him to finish what he’d started.

The masked wizard was already stirring, and Harry could feel the anger radiating off him. This next exchange would be crucial, and Harry steeled himself for whatever was to come.

With electricity still surging through his veins, Harry pressed his advantage. He launched into a relentless assault, his wand a blur of motion as he fired spell after spell.

“Stupefy! Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!” Harry’s voice rang out, each incantation punctuated by a crack of static electricity.

His opponent, still reeling from the initial shock, struggled to keep up. The masked wizard managed to deflect the first few spells, his wand movements fast and precise despite his obvious disorientation.

But Harry wasn’t finished.

Tapping into his newfound power, he executed his nameless dashing spell repeatedly. He vanished in puffs of white smoke, reappearing at different angles around his foe. Each time he materialized, he launched another attack, catching the wizard in his blind spots.

“Flipendo!” Harry shouted, appearing behind the man and sending him stumbling forward.

“Impedimenta!” Came next, slowing the wizard’s movements as Harry struck from the side.

Despite the onslaught, the masked figure refused to yield. In a desperate move, he raised his wand and cried out. “Protego!“

A shimmering barrier erupted around him, forming a protective dome. The wizard panted heavily inside his magical fortress, clearly hoping for a moment’s reprieve.

Harry paused, staring at the barrier. For a split second, he was unsure how to proceed. Then, as if guided by some primal instinct, he knew exactly what to do.

He seized hold of the lightning within him, bottling it up into one concentrated ball.

“More…” He muttered. “More…!”

Raising his wand to the sky, Harry felt the electric charge within him reach a crescendo. The air crackled with energy as storm clouds began to form overhead, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Now!“

With a resounding crack, a bolt of lightning answered Harry’s roar. It struck his opponent’s barrier with devastating force, shattering the magical shield as if it were made of glass.

The masked wizard’s cry of surprise was cut short as the lightning engulfed him. For a moment, his silhouette was visible within the blinding light, before he collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

As the thunder faded, Harry stood there, arm still raised, staring in disbelief at his fallen foe. The realization of what he’d just done began to sink in, along with an overwhelming wave of exhaustion.

The electric power that had fueled him suddenly dissipated, leaving Harry feeling hollow and drained. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, his vision starting to blur.

The last thing Harry heard before darkness claimed him was Hermione’s panicked voice, calling his name from somewhere behind him. Then, silence.