Precipice

April 15, 1993, 6:30 PM, Room of Requirement

Harry Potter

The Room of Requirement had outdone itself once again. Tall windows stretched from floor to ceiling, their golden frames catching the artificial sunlight that streamed through enchanted glass.

Training dummies stood in formation along the eastern wall, their wooden forms scarred and scorched from countless spells. Ancient spell books lined the western wall, their gold and silver lettering catching the light. The tomes were arranged on dark oak shelves that seemed to grow organically from the stonework, their wood polished to a warm gleam.

The obstacle course dominated the center of the room, a complex array of floating platforms, narrow bridges, and shifting barriers. Silver mist curled around its base, ready to catch any who might fall. Enchanted targets hovered at various heights, directed to dodge and weave when approached.

To the side, a circular arena had been sunken into the floor, its stone surface marked with training circles. Wooden benches curved around it in ascending rows, though they sat empty now. The whole space was softened by the gentle sound of flowing water from an ornate fountain.

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered by the sound of a thunderclap that echoed off the stone walls. Harry stood to the side, wreathed in dancing tendrils of bluish-white lightning. The electric light cast wild shadows across his face as he stared at his hands in trepidation. The power coursed through him, making his hair stand on end and causing the very air around him to crackle with energy.

Another thunderous crack split the air. The lightning intensified, arcing between his fingers and racing up his arms in brilliant azure streaks. Harry’s face contorted in concentration, his jaw clenched as he tried to hold onto the power, to bend it to his will. However, much like trying to grasp water, the more tightly he tried to hold it, the more it slipped away.

The electric light flickered once, twice, and then died altogether. The sudden absence of power hit Harry like a physical blow. His legs buckled beneath him, and he fell forward onto his knees, catching himself with trembling hands against the cold stone floor.

His breathing came in heavy gasps, each one carrying a whispered curse of frustration.

The power that had come so naturally in the heat of battle now seemed to mock him with its elusiveness. Harry pushed himself back to his feet, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

He reached for that memory— his enemy’s curse streaking towards him, the overwhelming surge of power that had flooded his veins in that critical moment. His heart quickened as he relived the terror, the desperation, the primal need to survive.

For a brief, exhilarating moment, it worked. Bluish-white lightning erupted around him, crackling with raw power, the air filling with the sharp scent of ozone. But just as quickly as it had come, the energy sputtered and died, leaving him gasping and trembling. The sudden loss felt like being doused with ice water.

“Bloody Hell!” Harry’s shout echoed off the stone walls, his frustration breaking free. He slammed his fist against one of the training dummies, causing pain to blossom in his hand as it rocked backward on its stand. “Why won’t you just—”

His angry outburst was suddenly interrupted by a gentle wave of serenity washing over him, like being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold day. The foreign sensation of calm flowed through his mind, smoothing the jagged edges of his frustration. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Hello, Alef.” Harry said softly to the empty room, his anger already fading as he nursed his hand. “Checking up on me, are you?”

A pleasant buzz hummed through his consciousness, accompanied by a sensation of warmth and light. Harry’s smile widened as he interpreted the castle spirit’s emotional response.

“I’m glad you’re doing well too.” He said, absently rubbing his tingling fingers. “Though I wish I could say the same about my progress with this…”

He gestured vaguely at the air around him where the lightning had crackled moments before. A gentle, curious buzz tickled at the edges of his mind, carrying with it impressions of encouragement and patience.

“Yeah, I know there’s time.” Harry murmured in response to Alef’s soothing presence. He walked over to the fountain, taking one of the crystal goblets and filling it with the clear water. The gentle splashing helped calm his racing thoughts. “But you know me… or rather, you know who I’ve been spending too much time around.”

Harry’s thoughts drifted to Adam, and he couldn’t help but smile wryly.

The younger boy’s methodical nature had rubbed off on him more than he’d care to admit. Where Harry had once rushed headlong into situations, driven by that classic Gryffindor courage— or recklessness, as Adam would say— he now found himself analyzing, planning, looking a step ahead.

Adam’s cool logic, his constant strategic thinking, that intense drive for efficiency— it had changed Harry’s perspective on everything.

He took a slow sip of water, reflecting on his adopted brother’s habits. He admired it; that systematic way Adam approached every problem, breaking it down into its component parts, as well as his almost obsessive need to understand the mechanics of everything he encountered.

Even now, Harry could almost hear Adam’s voice in his head, probably mapping out contingency plans, calculating probabilities, seeing patterns where others saw chaos. He was always three moves ahead, always preparing for the worst possible scenario.

“You’d probably have charts for this already, wouldn’t you?” Harry muttered to the empty room, gesturing at his lightning-wreathed hands. “Probably have the whole thing categorized and labeled…”

The smile faded as darker memories surfaced.

Allow me to show you what true pain is. Crucio. The eerie words of his possessed friend still echoed in his mind from time to time.

His hand tightened around the goblet as he remembered the searing agony of the Cruciatus Curse, carrying all of Voldemort’s malice. The phantom pain made his muscles twitch, a reminder of that horrible moment when he’d seen his brother’s face twisted with Voldemort’s cruel smile. Then there was that Death Eater, his mask glinting in the chaos of battle, and those visions that still haunted his dreams…

He was too young for this. This was too much; maybe he should have been leaving this for the adults to handl—

“No.” Harry said firmly, setting the goblet down with perhaps more force than necessary, causing water to splash over the rim. “I can’t just sit on the sidelines playing Quidditch while he’s out there fighting. Not when…”

Grindelwald was out there, gathering forces like a storm gathering clouds. Voldemort’s shadow still lingered, a persistent darkness at the edges of their consciousness. The Americas had already exploded into a maelstrom of violence, fire and blood. And now with the betrayal of Longling and Castelobruxo… Harry ran a hand through his messy black hair, trying to organize his thoughts the way Adam would, trying to see the bigger picture.

He began pacing the length of the room, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The world was becoming increasingly unstable, pieces moving on a board that seemed to grow larger and more complex by the day. Alliances shifting like sand, loyalties tested…

“It’s like a chess game where half the pieces are invisible.” He muttered. “And we don’t even know how many players are really involved.”

He paused by one of the tall windows, looking out over the Hogwarts grounds. “Adam would probably say we’re looking at it wrong— that we’re playing chess while our opponents are playing an entirely different game.”

The thought made him uneasy. Despite all their preparations, despite the tournaments and the shows of unity, the world was stumbling in the dark. Grindelwald’s attack had proved that much. How many more surprises were waiting? How many more betrayals? And how much time did they really have to prepare?

Standing there by the window, consumed by thoughts of the growing darkness, Harry felt something shift within him. The bluish-white lightning returned, crackling along his skin— but this time, instead of wild and untamed, it settled into a steady, humming current. The power thrummed through his veins like a second heartbeat, constant and controlled.

Harry blinked in surprise, staring at his lightning-wreathed hands.

“What…?” The power wasn’t fading. It wasn’t fighting him. It was… waiting. Ready. His brow furrowed in concentration as understanding slowly dawned.

Taking experimental steps forward, he felt the energy move with him, responding to his movements. The realization hit him: his power wasn’t just reacting to immediate threats— it was responding to his awareness of them. The looming dangers, the gathering storms, the chess pieces moving in the shadows… His mind had been focused on real, tangible threats, not just training exercises.

“So that’s it.” Harry murmured, a slight smile playing on his lips. “You’re not just a shield against direct enemy aggression, are you? You’re answering my need to protect, to fight back against all of it.”

His green eyes, now flickering with electric light, turned toward the obstacle course. In his mind’s eye, he could see them— Dark Wizards lurking behind barriers, Grindelwald’s followers waiting to strike from the shadows, unknown enemies preparing ambushes at every turn. As if responding to his thoughts, the Room of Requirement stirred to life.

Dark figures materialized around the course, their forms shifting and smoky but unmistakably threatening. They moved with predatory grace, some brandishing wands, others carrying curved blades that gleamed in the afternoon light. The Room had perfectly captured his imagined adversaries, giving shape to his fears and challenges.

“Thank you, Alef.”

A grin spread across Harry’s face as the lightning coursed through him, making him feel lighter, faster, more alive. This was what he needed— not sterile practice, but something that felt real. The first attacker launched a ‘spell’ at him, a streak of red light cutting through the air.

Harry moved. The lightning sang in his blood as he dodged, his body flowing like water around the spell. Another curse came from his left— he was already gone, leaving nothing but crackling air where he’d stood. His movements were fluid, instinctual, the power guiding him as much as he guided it.

Without hesitation, he launched himself onto the obstacle course. Floating platforms shifted beneath his feet, but his enhanced reflexes kept him balanced. Spells crisscrossed the air around him as his conjured opponents attacked from all angles. Harry wove through them all, the lightning leaving bright trails in his wake as he leaped, ducked, and spun.

“Whatever’s coming…” He called out to the empty room, his voice charged with determination.

“Whatever they’re planning…” He vaulted over a barrier, lightning crackling as he twisted mid-air to avoid two simultaneous attacks. Landing gracefully, he felt more centered, more in control than he had in any previous attempt. “We’ll be ready.”

The Room’s conjured attackers pressed their assault, and Harry threw himself into the challenge with renewed purpose. Each movement, each dodge, each surge of power brought him closer to the control he sought. And somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could feel Alef’s quiet approval humming like a gentle current beneath the crackling storm of his own power.

ooooo

Same Time…

Su Li

Su traced her fingers along the cold stone walls of Hogwarts as she walked, a habit from her first year when everything felt too big, too overwhelming. Now in her second year, she found herself doing it again for comfort. The stone was steady, unchanging— unlike everything else lately.

She could still see it all so clearly— the tournament stands packed with excited students, the final tasks about to begin. She remembered the pride she’d felt watching Adam prepare for his duel, how sure everyone was that this would be a day of celebration.

Then they attacked. And Castelobruxo and Longling… Su closed her eyes, trying to block out the memory but failing.

The past week had been awful. The Great Hall felt different now, with gaps at the tables where students should have been.

No one had died in the attack, thank Merlin, but there had been many injured. Others had been pulled out by frightened parents. And the Chinese students who were not part of the attacks? They were marked by association, even though they’d stood and fought alongside everyone else that day.

Including her.

Padma and the other girls in her dormitory still talked to her, at least. But everywhere else? It was like being invisible and too visible all at once. Conversations stopped when she walked by. Older students watched her with narrowed eyes.

Yesterday, a group of Third Years had whispered “traitor” when she passed them in the library. She hadn’t told Adam about that— he had enough to worry about.

This morning she’d seen him in the Great Hall, and something about him had frightened her. There was an almost wild quality in his eyes, like a cornered animal that couldn’t escape. He’d barely touched his breakfast, just sat there staring at nothing, as if he could see something terrible approaching that no one else could.

She’d never seen him like this before— not during the tournament, not during the battles, not even when he’d nearly died. It was as if something had gotten under his skin, some knowledge that haunted his every waking moment.

The corridors were quieter now that curfew approached. Su preferred it this way— fewer stares to avoid, fewer whispers to pretend she hadn’t heard. Her new route to Ravenclaw Tower took her through the less-used corridors on the fourth floor.

It meant walking alone, but that was better than seeing students suddenly cross to the other side of the hall when they spotted her.

She’d overheard a First Year, the day before, wondering if all the Chinese students would be expelled. The casual way she’d discussed it had made Su’s stomach hurt. This was the same girl who, just a month ago, had been asking for her help with looking up a book.

Now that interaction felt like it had happened in another lifetime.

A sound echoed from around the corner— something between a laugh and a jeer. Su slowed her pace, the same way she did whenever she heard unexpected voices these days. Then she heard another sound: the soft thump of books hitting stone.

“Oops.” Came a girl’s voice, dripping with false concern. “Looks like Loony’s lost her things. Maybe they’re trying to run away— just like her grip on reality.”

Su stepped around the corner, her heart pounding but her voice steady. “What are you doing?”

The three First Years turned sharply. Su recognized them, though she could not recall their names.

“This doesn’t concern you, traitor.” The girl said, but there was a new wariness in her tone. Her eyes darted to the corridor behind Su, as if expecting someone else to appear.

“Actually, it does.” Su moved forward, positioning herself between them and Luna. “As a Ravenclaw, I’d say bullying one of our own definitely concerns me.”

The boy shifted uncomfortably.

“We were just having a laugh.” He muttered, but his earlier bravado had evaporated. His hand wasn’t quite steady on his wand.

“Were you?” Su’s voice was cold now.

“Funny, I didn’t hear Luna laughing.” She bent down and picked up one of the scattered books, never taking her eyes off the trio. “You know, Adam and I were just talking about how some people cope with fear by becoming exactly what they claim to hate. Bullies. Attackers. People who gang up on those they think are weaker.”

The third bully, another girl Su didn’t know, tugged at the first girl’s sleeve. “Come on, Marge. It’s not worth it.”

“What, scared of little Su?” The girl named Marge sneered, but Su noticed she’d taken a step back. “Going to run to your powerful friend? Have him fight your battles?”

Su smiled then, the kind of smile she’d seen Adam use when he knew he had the upper hand. “If I needed Adam to fight my battles, why would he have spent so much time teaching me dueling? But please, by all means, find out for yourself what I can do. I know the Hospital Wing has been a little busy these days, but I’m sure they’d be happy to admit you three.”

The threat hung in the air, made more potent by its uncertainty. None of them had ever seen Su duel. For all they knew, she could be as formidable as her friend.

And even if she wasn’t— did they really want to risk Adam Clarke’s retaliation? The boy who’d fought off Grindelwald’s forces? Who’d seemingly commanded an army of Acromantulas?

“Whatever.” Marge finally spat, lowering her wand completely. “Keep the freak company. You two deserve each other.”

She turned sharply, her robes swishing. The other two followed quickly, trying to maintain some dignity in their retreat. Su waited until their footsteps faded before turning to Luna, who was still calmly gathering her things.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Luna said dreamily. “But it was nice to watch the Wrackspurts flee from their heads when you smiled. Very impressive.”

Su found herself laughing, the tension draining from her shoulders.

“I still have no idea what Wrackspurts are.” She admitted, kneeling to help gather Luna’s belongings. “But thank you. I think.”

As they picked up the scattered books and parchments, Su couldn’t help but ask. “Does this… happen to you often?”

Luna paused, tilting her head thoughtfully.

“Oh, not too terribly often.” She replied, her voice maintaining that airy, unconcerned tone. “Though I suppose some people just can’t resist a spot of fun at my expense, no matter what Adam says.”

Su felt a flash of anger at that.

“Adam?” She asked, trying to keep her voice level. “He knows about this?”

“Oh yes.” Luna nodded serenely. “He’s made it quite clear that I’m to be considered under his protection. But you know how some people are— they just don’t seem to care.”

Su had to resist the urge to march straight to Professor Flitwick and demand he do something about this. Hadn’t the Head of House already given her the standard advice about ignoring the bullies and their “nonsense”? She knew it was pointless; the professors could only do so much, and Luna seemed to have resigned herself to this treatment. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Su placed the last book back in Luna’s arms.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad Adam has your back. And… I’ve got yours too, okay?” She offered a small smile, hoping Luna could see the sincerity behind it.

Luna accepted Su’s offer of support with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Su. It’s nice to have a friend who understands.”

As they finished gathering the scattered books and parchments, Su couldn’t help but ask. “So, what exactly are these Wrackspurts you mentioned? I have to admit, I’ve never heard of them before.”

“Oh, they’re quite fascinating creatures!” Luna’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Tiny little things that float around your head and make it hard to focus. You can’t see them, but you can feel them— like a little buzzing in your ears.”

Su listened intently, grateful for the change in topic. Discussing Luna’s unusual beliefs was far preferable to dwelling on Adam’s haunted state or the prejudices they were all facing. “And how do you get rid of them?”

“Ah, well that’s the trick, isn’t it?” Luna giggled. “Some people say Dirigible plums are the best defense, but I find a good dose of fresh air and a clear mind works just as well.” She tapped the side of her head knowingly.

Su couldn’t help but smile at Luna’s whimsical explanations. “Fresh air and a clear mind, huh? I’ll have to remember that.”

As they started walking back towards Ravenclaw Tower, Su found her thoughts drifting, despite her best efforts, to Adam and the shadows she’d seen in his eyes that morning. Whatever he was dealing with, she could only hope he would find the clarity he needed to face it.

oooo

Adam Clarke

I stood in the quiet solace of the Whispering Grove, my gaze fixed on the distant treeline of the Forbidden Forest. The events of the past week had left me feeling hollow.

You would think that taking this information to Dumbledore would help, but no.

My meeting with Dumbledore had only compounded the weight on my shoulders. We had confirmed Grindelwald’s acquisition of the Mirror of Erised and the Veil of Death. Even more troubling for me, however, was the revelation that he also possessed Time Turners.

What could he possibly be planning? 

The tournament should have been a time of unity, a chance for the Wizarding World to stand strong against the growing darkness. Grindelwald’s forces, however, had struck with devastating precision, and Longling and Castelobruxo’s betrayal had left everyone reeling.

The scope of his ambition was beyond anything I’d imagined.

I clenched my fists, frustration and helplessness welling within me. I should be doing more, finding a way to turn the tide against this darkness. Grindelwald’s rule was not one I wished for. Every path I considered led to more death and destruction, though.

The weight of this burden was crushing, and I feared I was only one misstep away from losing everything.

I knew Harry and Sirius would not let someone like Grindelwald gain a foothold in this country. Neither of them would sit idly by, knowing they could do something.

They would fight; of that, I had no doubt.

So, what was I to do?

My gaze drifted to the forest, where I knew Absol was probably lounging after having eaten a well earned rabbit.

If I had hesitated, if I hadn’t gone to her aid, more innocent creatures would have been lost. But was that enough? Was saving a few magical beasts truly making a difference in the face of Grindelwald’s relentless advance?

A sigh escaped my lips as I ran a hand through my hair.

The others had been watching me closely, I knew. How could I ease their minds when I was so consumed by my thoughts of the future? This was a fight for the fate of the world, and I was terrified that no matter how hard I tried, it might not be enough.

I closed my eyes, letting the sounds of the grove wash over me.

The rustling leaves, the gentle whispers in the air— for just a moment, I allowed myself to find solace in the tranquility.

I knew I couldn’t linger here forever, though. There was work to be done, battles to be fought. I had to find a way to turn the tide, to stop whatever the Hell it was that Grindelwald was intent on doing.

My mind began racing once more. My conversation with Dumbledore had confirmed Grindelwald’s possession of the Time Turners, but that was just one piece of a larger puzzle. The Mirror of Erised, the Veil of Death, and now devices capable of manipulating time itself— there had to be a pattern here.

I started pacing, my footsteps silent on the soft grass. Each of the identified relics in my vision represented a fundamental force of magic: desire, death, and time. The vision of the portal I’d seen flashed through my mind again— that swirling vortex of raw magical energy, like a tear in the fabric of reality itself.

Was that what Grindelwald was attempting? Some sort of convergence of these primal forces?

The Mirror of Erised didn’t just show our desires; it manifested them in a tangible way, creating perfect reflections of our deepest longings. And the Veil— it wasn’t simply a gateway to death, but a threshold between existence and whatever lay beyond.

Combine the desire to find your way with the ability to manipulate time, and direct those energies into the Veil…

I stopped abruptly, my breath catching.

“The Abyss.” I breathed. “But… can he actually…?”

The Abyss, as I understood it, was a realm between life and death, outside the normal flow of time; if someone wanted to access it, to gain power over it, wouldn’t they need exactly these tools? Something to bridge the gap between desire and reality, something to cross the threshold between worlds, and something to bend the rules of time itself.

Still, that wasn’t enough. He needed more— but then again, that was what the other relics we couldn’t identify were for.

My hands were trembling slightly as I pulled out my notebook, quickly jotting down my thoughts before they could slip away. The theoretical implications were staggering.

If Grindelwald succeeded in combining these forces among others, he could potentially create a nexus point— a place where desire, death, time, and theoretically space converged. It was power that would grant him influence over the material world.

“Instead of a Master of Death, he’d be Master of… Creation?” I said, shaking my head.

I couldn’t take this to Dumbledore. Not yet.

For one, I didn’t know what the other artifacts were, and how they fit into this equation.

Also, the old wizard had only shared the information about the time turners after I’d already given him everything I knew about the Mirror and the Veil. Strategic as always, keeping his cards close to his chest. I understood his caution, but it made me wary of revealing too much too soon.

Besides, these were just theories; compelling ones, to be sure, but still unproven.

I needed more evidence, more research. The attempted theft of magical creatures by Castelobruxo’s forces suddenly took on new significance— their innate magical energies could be crucial for powering such an ambitious ritual. That was another thread to pull on for later, though.

I closed my notebook, tucking it safely away.

The grove had grown darker as evening approached, but my mind felt clearer than it had in days. I finally had a framework to understand what Grindelwald might be planning. Now I needed to verify it, carefully, before deciding how much to share and with whom.

As I headed back toward the castle, I felt Absol’s presence at the edge of my consciousness, her concern mixing with curiosity.

She had sensed my agitation earlier, but now picked up on my focused determination. I sent her a gentle reassurance through our bond. We had work to do, but at least now we knew what we were looking for.

The real question was: how much time did we have left to stop it?

Silence was the only proffered answer.