Ascension: The Promise of Prometheus

by Define Anachronistic

(AU) Harry and his closest friends have resolved to enlist in the Auror Corps to gain the necessary authority to combat their enemies head-on. However, brutal training, a harsh Squad Captain and a plot that could destabilise the Muggle and the Wizarding Worlds need to be dealt with first. But where there is adversity there is also opportunity and that's where Harry thrives.

20. The Qualifying Rounds

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Qualifying Rounds

Harry would have doubted it if anyone told him beforehand, but talking about his problems actually helped him resolve them. Who would have thought?

However, he didn't think his sessions with Healer Swann would become regular meetings; he felt more than capable of dealing with day-to-day matters on his own. Besides, having mourned and spoken about Captain Solace with his friends and Felicia had truly made him feel better. Felicia had been so stoic when he'd first met her, so Harry found it bizarre to watch her cry. Still, the sight made him feel less ashamed about his own feelings.

The five spent the night eating, drinking and swapping stories about Captain Solace. Memories from basic training seemed a lot funnier in hindsight, and plenty of tales ended in laughter. The stories that Felicia added- from the perspective of an older sibling- pushed them over the brink into hysterics. They could never have imagined their powerful and dignified Squad Leader in so many embarrassing situations.

Their merriment lasted all night, and the sky started to lighten by the time they turned in. Felicia had brought her own tent and camped out with them in that open field. In the morning, she helped them warm their precooked breakfast before seeing them off at school.

"Keep up with your training," she instructed them as she turned to disapparate. "I want you all in tip-top shape when we're back on duty in two months. Is that understood?" For the first time since meeting her, Harry could picture her as a Squad Leader.

"Understood, Captain." Harry nodded while his friends made similar noises of assent. "Two months."

The following two months were going to be a busy time in Harry's life. He was not only being put back into duty in May but the Triwizard Tournament's Qualifying Rounds were also being held then too. His initial plan from last summer had been to keep up with his usual routine until the qualifiers were over, but now he feared that he'd let his training fall by the wayside.

As such, he threw himself into his preparations for the Tournament and was encouraged to go even further by Nicolas.

"Faster!" Nicolas shouted at him from where he was flying over the trees. Instead of riding a broom, Nicolas was able to fly due to his fine control over the air around him. "Don't be afraid to push yourself here! Training is the best time to risk injury!"

Harry was zigzagging through the trees, chasing the animated humanoid targets his master had created for him last summer. There were thirteen of them altogether and each was faster than the one that had preceded it. In August, he'd been able to hit the sixth target through incredible effort. Now, with longer limbs and months of intensive training under his belt, he was able to hit the seventh target every time. But considering he'd learned to magically augment his strength and speed since then...

Harry agreed with Nicolas. Now was the time to go for broke.

Boosting his body with magic, he kicked forward with an explosive burst. His reaction time increased to such a degree that even the target's rapidly pumping limbs looked like they were moving through water instead of air. Suddenly, the idea that he wouldn't be able to hit it seemed ludicrous.

Pienteal! A ball of luminescent purple paint hit the eighth target square in the back, causing it to stutter and stop. Immediately, the ninth target shimmered into visibility and took off running.

"Better!" Nicolas called as Harry twisted to make a sharp turn around a tree. "But make sure you-!" His warning came too late.

Harry didn't keep his Mana output level and his left ankle paid the price. It snapped and rolled before it was quickly followed by his knee on the same leg. It let out a crack! like gunfire as it popped out of its socket. Harry roared in agony as he hit the ground and his left hip met the same fate.

No matter how many times he injured himself like this, he never got used to the pain. It was like his bones were exploding from the inside out.

He must have blacked out, as the next thing he knew was lying on his back. Nicolas was kneeling beside him. "How does that feel?" He asked tentatively.

Warily, Harry looked down at his left leg, afraid of the bloody, mangled mess he would find there. He was relieved when he saw nothing unusual; Nicolas had already healed it. Carefully, he got to his feet and slowly put his weight on the healed leg before hopping up and down on it when he felt no twinge of pain. "It feels great!" He said happily.

"I'm glad," Nicolas let out a sigh of relief. The break must have looked even nastier than he'd first thought if his master was reacting like this. "When you mentioned successfully using the Body Enhancing Technique against those Death Eaters, I thought you had already mastered it."

Harry shrugged as he finally stopped hopping. "I never said I mastered it. Just that I can use it reliably at a certain level." He frowned, thinking about his duel against Agarwal. "They were still faster than I was, so I stayed alive by keeping my distance."

"Smart lad," Nicolas smiled before reminding him of something that had been on his mind since last July. "Remember, there hasn't been a single Magister who wasn't the Triwizard Champion of their time. It's a good start to their political careers, as the public knows they are the very best witch or wizard in their age group. A legend in the making."

"I already know this."

Nicolas wasn't to be dissuaded. "Are you sure you want to compete this go around? You won't be able to compete as a Seventh Year if you do."

"Yes, I am sure." Harry insisted. "And you are too, or you wouldn't have been so eager to introduce me to Eniola Adebayo and her very polite grandson."

Nicolas smiled mischievously. "Well, you want to make an impact, don't you?"

"Of course."

"What bigger impact could there be than becoming the youngest Triwizard Champion in history?"

It was true. The youngest ever participant had been a Castleobruxo girl in her Fifth Year, and the youngest Champion had been a New Alexandria boy in his Sixth. So, during dinner the following week, when Dumbledore asked those who planned to compete in the coming Tournament to stand, Harry was pushing boundaries when he rose alongside the other eligible Sentinels.

He ignored the stares and whispers directed at him. He already knew that no one would be happy to have a Third Year fighting to represent their school.

When Dumbledore continued, the entire hall fell silent again. "The Triwizard Tournament was introduced in the wake of the First Great Wizarding War." The Headmaster's voice was low, but everyone in the hall could hear him. "After the passing of Lord Hoca, his younger brother, the Second Magister, decided to take people's frustrations towards the new system, a system that bound old enemies together, and direct it towards competition. It became a celebration of talent. Talent that the youngest generation had to offer the world."

Dumbledore looked at each of the ten standing Sentinels. They were the ones who hadn't reached their Seventh Year and would be eligible to enter the Tournament in September. "To the three of you who will represent our school next year, you will carry the pride and honour of Hogwarts on your shoulders. If that burden is too much for you, please sit down."

Not one of them sat. How could they? If they did so now, in front of the entire school, they would forever be marked as cowards.

"Good." Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "You have eight weeks to prepare for the Qualifying Rounds." He smiled then, ever so slightly. "Use them wisely."

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

When developing his proficiency with the Body Enhancing Technique, Harry deemed the animated targets insufficient.

It had been strenuous, yes, but after a fortnight he'd learnt to maximise the augmentation throughout his body without injuring himself. Through this, he had managed to consistently hit the thirteenth and fastest target and Nicolas had deemed him on par with any duellist on speed alone. However, Harry was experienced enough to know that it took more than that to win a real fight.

So he asked his friends to help him train by firing spells at him as quickly as they could.

He thought it would've been a challenge to convince them. It was a mind-numbingly tedious exercise from their perspective (after the initial amusement wore off; casting jinxes was still somewhat fun, after all). However, they surprised him. They had seemingly come to a unanimous agreement regarding the Triwizard Tournament.

"I just think it would be great if we all ended up competing in the Triwizard," Terry said as they stretched in the training hall. "Not at the same time though. Obviously."

"Obviously, because it would go against the "Tri" in Triwizard?"

"Yes," Terry nodded. Either he hadn't caught Harry's sarcasm or he didn't care to acknowledge it. "You would compete in our fourth year, and we'd do it in our seventh. How cool would that be?"

"Pretty cool." Harry agreed, before glancing at the others surreptitiously.

On the surface, this sounded like an idea that would only engage Terry, but when he thought about it for even a second, it made sense for the others as well. Anthony would likely wish to test himself against the best of their generation to see how he measured up in his preparation to kill the Acolyte, Vincent Lancer. For Michael, his competitiveness started with Quidditch, but it certainly didn't end there. He would do anything to prove himself different from his parents. Anything to create a public identity outside of his connection to them.

Their aspirations were revealed in their spellwork and each was eager to land a hit on him. With enhanced speed on his side, Harry proceeded to block, deflect and dodge all the spells that were sent at him. Even after a few seconds, he felt the greater strain in this exercise when compared to chasing the animated targets. Here he had to simultaneously focus on his spellwork, the movements of his opponents, and the constant output of Mana throughout his body. Even the simplest mistake would lead to self-inflicted injury or being hit by a spell.

Most annoyingly, while he was struggling with all of this, his friends were having the time of their lives shooting schoolyard hexes at him. Michael was having the most fun of all.

A minute in, Terry cackled as the latest of Michael's Pus-Filled-Boil Curses finally struck Harry in the chest. "Oof! That looks like it hurts!" He half-laughed, half-hissed as Harry's training shirt was stretched outwards by the boils growing on his chest.

"Alright, now we're even," Michael said casually.

Harry hurried to perform the counter-curse before the boils grew too painful but made no complaint; he knew exactly what Michael was referring to. Anthony did not. "Even for what?"

"You don't remember?" Michael asked. "When we came up with the plan to smuggle Norbert out of school and-"

"Oh! That?" Anthony remembered suddenly. "You've been holding onto that for two years?"

Michael nodded proudly. "Yes."

"You are the definition of petty." Anthony shook his head in disgust, though Michael didn't look the least bit ashamed.

"Don't worry," Harry assured him. "It'll be the last spell any of you land on me." They took his words as a challenge, just as he'd intended.

There was a reason why Harry had asked his friends for help with this exercise instead of Nicolas. He wanted his limited time with his mentor to be spent on things he had yet to learn or even begin to develop.

"Now that you've mastered elemental magic-" Nicolas began, but Harry cut in.

"Mastered is a bit of a stretch." He felt the need to emphasise that just in case whatever he'd be learning next relied on a mastery of elemental magic. "I've got four down pat, but I can only reliably cast two lightning spells. I can't do either one nonverbally."

Nicolas waved his concerns aside. "That's fine, as long as you have the flexibility of mind required to cast multiple elemental spells at once." When Harry stared at him blankly, he clarified, "I'm talking about weather spells."

"Oh yes!" Harry resisted the urge to jump around the training hall, but he couldn't stop himself from fist-pumping excitedly. "I've been waiting for this since day one!" He quickly drew his wand. "I've been practising a little bit with the spells that have already appeared in my grimoire. Look!" He twirled his wand over his head and cast, "Meteolojinx!"

Immediately, a dense layer of cloud appeared between them and the ceiling, showering the massive hall below with rain. As thunder rumbled and crackles of electricity illuminated the dark cloud from within, Nicolas hurriedly cast the counter-jinx. Soaked, he stared blank-faced at his equally drenched apprentice.

"Err…sorry?" Harry tried weakly. He shifted on his feet but quickly stopped at the splashing sounds from the deep puddle they were standing in. "Probably not the best spell to practice indoors, is it? But you must admit, I've gotten a lot better with it."

Nicolas did not seem impressed. "Volcanic eruptions, hurricanes, tsunamis, droughts, floods, blizzards and earthquakes," he listed off. "Any natural disaster you can think of can be replicated by a sorcerer. Your Tempest Jinx is strong, yes, but the most powerful of Sages can decimate entire cities with weather magic." Something in Harry's expression made him soften his tone. "I won't tell you to not take pride in your achievements, but never feel satisfied with them. That is the death of ambition and motivation."

Nicolas waited for Harry to nod before leading him out of the room. They returned to Brightstone House, where he spent the rest of the day teaching his apprentice foundational weather spells.

Harry pushed himself to his limits the following week and was rewarded with rapid improvement. "Tempestas Mutato!" The clearing they were standing in was chilly, even for a morning in March, but it quickly turned as warm and as humid as a rainforest. Harry glanced up at his master, but rather than looking impressed, Nicolas appeared concerned.

"What?" Harry asked apprehensively. "Is there something wrong with my spell?"

"No," Nicolas said, his eyes still worried. "It's flawless. Have you been working on the Atmospheric Charm non-stop?"

Harry frowned. "Of course."

"Harry," Nicolas sighed and sat down on a moist, mossy log. "You need to expand your horizons beyond magic and training. I know you do other things," he added when Harry was about to retort, "but only when someone else asks you to or if you're doing it for someone else."

"That's not true," Harry huffed. "I have art."

Nicolas frowned. "Remus mentioned you've been stressed about that as well. Something about the competition?"

Harry now regretted telling Remus anything. "Painting with oils takes some getting used to." He didn't mention his despair upon realising how different it was from other mediums he had worked with. Art would always interest him, but in his quest to improve, he no longer found it fun or even relaxing. "I don't think my technique will be anywhere as good as the other candidates by the deadline."

"So when you're not in class, studying or doing homework, you're training with me or your friends?" Nicolas frowned. "And when you're not doing that, you're either in Art Club or working on improving your skill as a painter? You've been doing all of this for three weeks without breaks?"

"I've worked harder for longer periods than this," he said, thinking of basic training or even the summer he'd met Nicolas.

"Yes, but were you in the best mental state during or directly after those periods?" Nicolas asked. Harry couldn't figure out a way to claim that he had been. "When was the last time you socialised with your peers? When was the last time you watched the Odeon? Listened to music? Read a book? A book that had nothing to do with school or training?" He quickly clarified when Harry made to speak at that last question. "You need to take a little time for yourself, or you'll burn out."

Harry nodded along, even though he had no intention of taking his advice.

In a show of immaturity that he would later blame on sleep deprivation, Harry pushed himself even harder the following week. Fortunately, this new intensity didn't last long as he nodded off during Transfiguration the following Friday. Professor McGonagall was not pleased.

"Potter!" She barked. Harry jerked awake to the sound of hushed laughter. He raised his head from the desk and almost lowered it again when he saw the Head of Gryffindor glaring down at him.

Quickly, Harry glanced at the chalkboard to see what spell they were working on today. Relieved, as it was one he had mastered years ago, Harry tapped his quill with his wand. Lapifors! The quill was immediately transfigured into a brown, floppy-eared rabbit. Its nose twitched nervously at its surroundings, but it relaxed when Harry sleepily began to pet it.

The chuckles around him died when he demonstrated mastery over the spell. He even saw McGonagall's lips tug upwards for a moment. "Five points from Ravenclaw for sleeping in class," she said rigidly, "and you should count yourself lucky. It would have been Saturday Detention if you hadn't done it nonverbally." She walked away and Harry sighed in relief. He didn't have time to waste in detention.

"Are you alright?" Lisa asked from the seat beside his. She was still working on her quill. The back half was bouncing around on rabbit legs but the front was still an eagle feather. "You've been out of it for days."

"I need a break," Harry admitted, too tired to keep fighting that fact. "Want to go out tomorrow?"

Lisa smiled. "Are you asking me out on a date?" The second she turned her eyes away, her half-formed rabbit jumped off the table.

Harry caught it before it could hit the ground and handed it back to her. "If you're not interested, I'm sure I can find someone else."

"Just for that, I'll make you take me to Madam Puddifoot's."

"You would've wanted to go anyway."

Lisa gasped mockingly. "Oh, you've seen right through me."

He was about to retort, but Padma hissed at them from across the aisle. "Stop flirting before McGonagall takes another five points."

Harry tutted. "You're just jealous because Michael would rather go to a Wimbourne Wasps game than step inside Puddifoot's with you."

Michael spoke up from the desk in front of his. "I'd rather go to a Wasps game naked than step foot inside that place."

Harry grimaced. "No one wants that image in their head." He paused. "Except maybe Padma." He wiggled his eyebrows at said girl, and Lisa snorted. Padma's face twisted, ready to snap back at him, but she quickly returned to her work when McGonagall whipped her head in their direction.

Harry hadn't thought about it when he asked Lisa out, but at some point that evening, he realised it would be their first date.

"What are you talking about?" Anthony asked. They were in his room, getting a headstart on their Easter holiday homework. Their less-prepared friends were hanging out in the common room.

As the desk was occupied, Harry sat on the carpet and wrote his Potions essay on Anthony's coffee table. "I'm talking about me and Lisa. We've never gone on a date before."

"You've gone out with her plenty of times before."

"Yeah, with friends. Never just the two of us."

"What about Valentine's Day? You guys skipped the Ball and went to that Muggle concert."

Harry frowned. "I had bigger things to worry about that night."

"Like telling Lisa you cheated on her with that hot Witch-Hunter girl?"

"I didn't put it quite like that, but yes."

Anthony put his quill down and turned to face him. He looked serious, so Harry was prepared to hear some sage advice. Instead, he said, "The way you overthink everything is ridiculous," and returned to his essay.

Harry sighed. "I'm never coming to you for girl advice again."

"Thank you," Anthony hummed. "That's all I ask."

While Anthony had been making fun of him, Harry did discern some wisdom from his words: Don't overthink it.

The following morning, he showered and then dressed and then dressed again when he thought another jumper made him look better. He also worked his dark curls over with the Hair-Styling Charm until he found the perfect balance between neat and messy, so it looked good but also like he didn't care. Finally, after a couple of spritzes from the cologne Remus had given him for Christmas, he was ready.

Lisa was already waiting for him in the common room. "I thought you might've gone to breakfast without me." She was wearing a grey cloak, but he could see the green skirt and leather boots she had on underneath. She looked ready for a fun day out in town.

He felt a little embarrassed at taking longer than she had to get ready. "Sorry. I overslept. Price of doing all my homework in one night."

She nodded sagely as they left the tower. "Got to keep that top ranking. I get it." He tried not to let the relief show in his face. He almost thought she had seen right through him.

After a quick breakfast, they took a carriage down to Hogsmeade. They were quite late in setting out, so Honeydukes was expectedly packed and would likely remain so until late in the afternoon. Lisa didn't mind, as she wanted to go to Tomes and Scrolls to purchase the newest book in The Heart's Darkest Curse series.

"It's getting turned into a show," Lisa told him excitedly as they joined the long queue. "It should air on the Odeon sometime this summer."

"Really?" Harry asked pleasantly, as though this was the first he was hearing of it. Su and Isobel had spoken of nothing else during Divination earlier in the week, and he'd been sitting close enough to them to hear every excruciating detail. "Is it any good?" He knew Remus owned the entire set, but his godfather's taste in literature varied from "excellent" to "embarrassing to own".

"It's so good," Lisa said, with the familiar fanatical air of a person attempting to convert another onto something they loved. "I can lend you the first book if you like. Maybe see if you're into it?"

Harry smiled. "Sure." He remembered her trying to convert him onto Bejewelled Heroines last summer. This time, he wasn't secretly a fan, so she'd have her work cut for her.

After buying the book, they stopped by Dominic Maestro's Music Shop, so Harry could finally buy the latest Siren Call album. "That's been out for months," Lisa pointed out as they walked over to the counter. Unlike the last shop, there was no lengthy queue. "I thought they were your favourite band?"

"They are," Harry said as he paid. "But I've been busy this year." She didn't seem all that happy with his purchase. "I thought you liked them too?"

"I used to," Lisa admitted as they stepped outside. "But that new album is too bleak for me."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe it'll be more my speed." He'd heard a few tracks play in the common room over the last couple of months and rather liked how melancholy the band had become.

"I think you'd like them more." Lisa pointed to a display for Expired Daydream, a band Harry had never heard of. "You should buy their album. It's only just come out, but their songs are more...I dunno. Upbeat? Energetic? Like Bejewelled Heroines' vocals meshed with Siren Call's hard sound."

"Do you listen to everything?" He meant it as a joke but she answered him seriously.

"Yes. It helps me come up with ideas for writing my own songs."

He raised his eyebrows, impressed. "That's cool." He wasn't just saying that. He liked how serious she was about her band. "Can I borrow their album from you?"

Lisa frowned a little. "Sure." Unlike her suggestion with The Heart's Darkest Curse, she seemed to take him not following her suggestion here as a brush-off.

They avoided Dervish and Banges at Harry's insistence. It had been over a year, but he still hadn't forgiven Mr Dervish for price gouging him on pre-made Room-Expansion Anchors. Lisa had nothing she wanted from there anyway, so she didn't care about skipping the usual perusal.

"I need to go in here," she insisted, dragging him by the arm into Gladrags even though he wasn't resisting. Instead of scrutinising the clothes as he'd expected, she directed them towards the accessories. "Su keeps nicking all of mine," she told him as she picked up different kinds of hair clips, big kinds and small kinds and ones with cute ornaments. "She says it's Amanda, but come on-" she rolled her eyes- "it's Amanda."

After a few minutes, Harry wandered away as Lisa deliberated between two clips that had similar designs but varied in colour. He leaned over the jewellery display case and smiled at her when she joined him. "What do you think?" He pointed at a gaudy thumb ring that had skulls and bones and all things masculine.

Lisa dragged her eyes away from the earrings she had been examining. "It would look good on you. But that-" she pointed at a gold and emerald encrusted septum ring- "would look even better."

"I wouldn't know even where to get my nose pierced."

"Ask me nicely and I'll do it for you."

Harry smirked. "I don't know if I should be excited or terrified."

Lisa was about to respond but stopped when someone cleared their throat. They both looked up to find an attendant standing on the other side of the display case. "If that's all..." she said, looking at the hair clips that were now resting on the glass.

"Erm..." Lisa's cheeks began to flush, but Harry refused to be embarrassed.

"How about that?" He pointed at the silver stud earrings Lisa had been looking at before. They were pretty, intricate and shaped like butterflies.

The attendant made to get them, but Lisa stopped her. "I can't afford them."

"It's a gift. I didn't get you anything for your birthday."

"You took me to see the Heroines."

"That was for me. I brought the rest of you along because I didn't want to go alone."

Lisa smiled. "Is that right? Well-" She stopped when she finally noticed the attendant, who had been watching this back and forth with increasing irritation. "Thanks," she said to Harry when he put his Gringotts key down.

"You're welcome," Harry said with outward calm. He wasn't exactly frugal, but those earrings weren't all that expensive. Even when living with the Dursleys, he would have been able to cobble the money together by selling his stolen goods. What worried him more was what kind of message he might've just sent. Buying jewellery felt worryingly grownup, and he feared she might take it to mean he was more serious than he was.

But when the attendant (relieved to be rid of them so she could move on to big spenders) handed Lisa the bag, she beamed at him and he suddenly found it hard to worry.

Don't overthink it, he reminded himself.

He was in such a pleasant mood, that he didn't even drag his feet when they finally went to Madam Pudifoot's. It was a cramped, steamy little teashop and every surface seemed to have either frills or bows on it. About a dozen small tables were squeezed into the space, so they had to wiggle and squeeze past other customers to find an available table near the back.

Even though the decorations didn't match his taste, what made his stomach roll was the sight of so many of their peers unashamedly snogging in broad daylight. He usually wouldn't have paid them any attention, but it was Lisa's idea to come here, and Harry had no desire to exhibit such public affection.

He started when Lisa touched his hand. "Sorry. I was off in my own world. What were you saying?" He tried to sound as casual as possible.

Lisa gave him a weird look. "What do you want to drink?" She gestured at the waitress who was standing by their table.

"Coffee. Black." He didn't even drink coffee, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

"Are you alright?" Lisa asked after she gave her order. "You're acting weird again."

Harry smiled to show her that everything was fine. "Just tired. That's why I ordered coffee." He nodded to himself, pleased at how well that excuse lined up. Lisa gave him a half-smile as though she knew he'd pulled that out of thin air.

The waitress returned with half a dozen small plates levitating before her. It seemed Lisa had ordered several desserts off the menu and they almost couldn't fit all of them on the tiny table. "Hungry?" Harry asked.

"I couldn't decide on what I wanted." Lisa shrugged. "Besides, you're paying."

"What?" He couldn't remember agreeing to that.

"Don't you always insist on paying?" She said this with a straight face but cracked when their eyes met. "The look on your face," she giggled before mimicking his gormless expression. "Don't worry, it's my treat after your lovely gift."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You better share." He reached for his spoon, but she stopped him.

"Hang on." She reached over and covered his eyes with her hand. "Guess what this is." She put her spoon against his lips, and he opened them without thinking.

Harry took a little longer than necessary, as he was more concerned with her spoon in his mouth instead of the dessert he was chewing on. "Carrot cake?" He guessed.

Lisa moved her hand back, and the first thing he saw was her grin. "Was it the consistency that gave it away?"

Harry returned her smile. "Let's see." He covered her eyes and fed her a spoonful of apple pie.

"Hmmm," Lisa chewed in mock thought. "Chocolate cake?" He chuckled.

Between them, they made quick work of their sweet lunch. What Madam Puddifoot's lacked in décor they more than made up for in treats. Harry sat back with a full stomach and stretched his arms overhead. He felt grateful for Lisa as he was more relaxed now than he'd been in months.

"Getting comfortable?" She teased.

"I always get sleepy when I'm full."

"You better not nod off here," she warned. "People might think I'm boring."

"Your words, not mine." He snickered. When she leaned over the table to smack his arm, he leaned over as well to kiss her. She stiffened in surprise before quickly kissing him back. He suddenly didn't care that they were in public or that people might be watching. He forgot all about training and the upcoming qualifiers. He only thought about Lisa, her thoughtfulness, and how not even the random assortment of desserts and coffee on her breath could make her any less lovely than she was. He was glad they were still together.

Unfortunately, the brief moment of respite was ruined when someone called his name.

"Potter!" He heard his name being hissed. "Hey, Potter!" Harry disengaged from Lisa and spotted Samuel Rittenhouse sitting two tables away, across from his annoyed-looking girlfriend.

"What?" He demanded, not bothering to hide his irritation.

"You're not actually going to go through with the qualifiers, are you?" Rittenhouse was a smug-faced, weedy Sixth Year that took every opportunity to brag about himself and put others down. Exactly the sort of person Harry found easiest to hate.

"Why are you asking?" Harry made a show of sizing him up. "If you're afraid about what I'll do to you, don't be. I promise to cast a Softening Charm on the ground before I beat you into it." There were a few chuckles, but he noticed most of the other customers seemed annoyed at their back and forth. Lisa was one of them.

Rittenhouse's cheeks pinkened. "I was already looking forward to showing you your place, Potter, but now..." he trailed off as though to convey what horrible things he had planned for Harry. "I advise you to reconsider-" he was interrupted by the sound of the window being knocked on. Turning around with everyone else, Harry saw that Anthony, Michael and Terry had stationed themselves outside the shop. They began pulling faces and making kissing motions to the patrons within before being chased away by Madam Puddifoot herself.

Harry felt his lips curve upward in amusement but froze when he noticed how sour Lisa's expression had become.

He sighed. And things had been going so well.

"Thank you, guys. Really." Harry stressed that last word enough so that people sitting at the table furthest from theirs within The Howling Tavern couldn't miss the sarcasm in his voice. "I'm looking forward to Lisa being mad at me again."

"We already said sorry." Anthony groaned. "We wouldn't have done it if we knew it would cut your date short."

"We wouldn't have done it if we knew you wouldn't shut up about it." Terry corrected.

Harry sighed. "I know. I'm just not looking forward to dealing with Lisa being upset with me again. It's starting to feel repetitive."

"Starting to?" Susan asked waspishly.

Harry realised he was making the entire afternoon about him, so he asked, "How goes it, Representative Bones? Elections on Monday, right?" Susan made a noise like an angry cat before getting up and walking over to the bar. "Not well then?" He guessed.

Michael winced. "A lot of people are holding our family history against her."

"Even though she was the one who brought your father's crimes to light?" Terry asked.

"People don't care because they don't trust her," Megan said quietly, still nursing her first butterbeer. "They think she was just saving her own neck."

Harry grimaced and turned his head towards the bar. He saw Susan accept a tray of drinks from Pam but get stopped on her way back by a Gryffindor in their year, Neville Longbottom. Harry thought he must be offering her help with the tray as Susan smiled tersely and shook her head. "What did Longbottom want?"

Susan shrugged as she passed him a foaming mug. "He offered to help with next year's election."

Terry snorted but clapped a hand over his lower face. "Sorry. I didn't think Longbottom had it in him to be so catty."

"I don't think he meant it like that," Susan tutted as she forced an angry Michael back into his seat. "I think he was being genuine."

"Still, it's rude to write you off like that." Michael ground his teeth together. "You still have a chance."

When the election results were released the following Tuesday, they found out that she did not, in fact, have a chance.

After a long afternoon spent in The Howling Tavern, the boys stumbled into the common room, loud and rowdy. Harry felt giddy on butterbeer, but that feeling evaporated when he spotted Lisa reading her new book in the corner with Isobel and Su. They headed over to join them.

Harry sat on the arm of her chair. "Sorry about today," he said. "My friends are idiots."

"Oh, I'm perfectly aware of that." She kept her gaze on her book but her eyes weren't moving.

Realising they got along a lot better when they were alone, Harry pulled out the Expired Daydream album from his bag. "Want to go listen to this together?"

Lisa smiled grudgingly. "You bought it?"

"You made me curious." While that was true, he only went back to buy it to make her happy with him. People liked it when their opinions were validated. "My dorm?"

"Alright."

"Where are you going?" Isobel asked when they got to their feet. Harry was glad it wasn't one of his friends that had interrupted them this time. Though they were grinning at him knowingly. He avoided their eyes.

Lisa tucked her book underarm and dodged the question. "I'll be back. Just don't spoil what I've missed." Isobel shrugged and went back to reading. Su hadn't looked up once since they'd entered the room, she was that engrossed in her new book.

"Su didn't agree," Lisa noted worriedly as they climbed the stairs to his room. "She's such a blabbermouth too. If she spoils it-"

Harry put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "I'll make it worth it."

She didn't seem to agree. "Imagine if it was the other way around. What if I took you away from a new Captain Armstrong book and someone spoiled it for you?"

"I'll probably go to Azkaban for murder," he said with mock seriousness. He turned to face her once they reached the Third Year boy's landing. "There's still time to turn around."

For a moment, Lisa looked like she was considering it. "Nah," she said finally. "I've come all this way..." Harry grinned and led her into his dormitory.

They spent the rest of the evening in there, cuddling together on his stolen sofa. If they didn't get around to listening to the entire album, well...

That was nobody's business but their own.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

The Qualifying Rounds of the Triwizard Tournament began early on the first day of May.

That morning, three examiners from the Department of Magical Games and Sports arrived at Hogwarts. They gathered the ten hopefuls together in the Small Hall to let them know how the selection process would work.

The first examiner had introduced herself as Gale Parker. She appeared small and mousy at first, but had brusquely taken control of the meeting and even got the students to cut their chatter with minimal effort. "As Hogwarts is Britain's premier school of magic, the Ministry of Magic is keen to ensure that only the three most qualified students will pass." Harry didn't like how she looked directly at him when saying that. "To put it bluntly, we don't want a Hogwarts Representative embarrassing our nation before the rest of the Confederation."

The second examiner, a beanpole of a man who had been introduced as Connor Fields, spoke then. His voice was so quiet they had to lean in to make out what he was saying. "Today, you will be tested on everything we predict will come up in the Tournament itself: Transfiguration, Enchantment, Dark Beast Control, Potions and Duelling."

"Duelling will be the final round. All of you have already proven exceptional in that field." The final examiner, a curly-haired young woman named Heena Sharma, said. The quiet man seemed relieved to have her take over. "You will be assessed on the first four rounds on a Pass/Fail basis. Should you fall below the standard we expect of a Triwizard Representative in any of the four preceding rounds, you will not be allowed to compete in the duelling competition."

Examiner Parker spoke again. "Tomorrow, the top three students will be accepted as the new Triumvirate and represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament this September." She paused for a moment, allowing them to absorb the information they had been given before declaring, "Now, let's begin."

Transfiguration was the first exam. Despite Harry's initial fears, it wasn't anything out of his wheelhouse. When it was his turn to step into the examination room, the examiners asked him to perform a piece of Human Transfiguration to the best of his ability.

As he was used to teachers outlining the specifics of what they wanted during tests, Harry was at a momentary loss before deciding to go for broke. Silently thanking Captain Solace for forcing them through an advanced Concealment and Disguise course during basic training, Harry waved his wand over himself. He kept his head level so the examiners could see that his lips weren't moving and transformed his entire body into a replica of Examiner Fields.

He remained like that while the examiners tested his spellwork. Examiner Sharma asked to shake his hand, likely checking for an illusion, before asking him to speak. "It wouldn't be much of a disguise if I didn't change my voice too," Harry said in the man's quiet voice.

He hung around for a few minutes while the examiners scribbled down on the lengths of parchment before them. He was worried they could see right through him. Harry had only chosen to mimic the quiet examiner as he had the closest body type to his own.

Finally, when enough time had passed for him to be convinced that they were about to disqualify him then and there, Examiner Parker looked up from her parchment and blinked at him. She seemed surprised that he was still here. "Send in the next person," she dismissed.

Confused about whether or not they had approved of his display, Harry returned his body to its natural state and walked out of the room, sending in the next hopeful after him.

The following exam was somehow even more daunting. Without a word of instruction, Examiner Fields led the first of them into the Forbidden Forest, leaving the rest to wait on the school lawns. Harry felt quite nervous by the time his turn rolled around, as some of his fellow Sentinels returned looking disheartened. One was even injured enough to be hurried to the Hospital Wing on a stretcher.

Of course, he was unsurprised when Cedric and Eliza made their way back to the castle in good spirits. However, he was annoyed when Rittenhouse did too.

Harry kept his guard up as he was led into the forest, but no surprise attack materialised. Fields kept walking for a few minutes before stopping in a non-descript clearing.

"This is where the Enchantment Exam will take place," he said lowly. "You have three minutes to protect this clearing from attack to the best of your ability." Harry stared at him, bursting with questions but unable to utter even one as the man conjured a chair for himself in the middle of the clearing. "Your time starts now."

While he had expected a quiet classroom examination for the enchanting portion, Harry could work with this too. He began with the essentials.

Tenmo. A specific series of Runes was quickly etched into the dirt, and Harry turned to complete this six more times. He walked around the perimeter of the clearing, pointing his wand here and there as he went. It wasn't enough to cast the defensive spells in thin air, as they would be all too easy to dispel, so he etched seven Containment Complexes around the clearing and powered them with layers of the most potent protection charms he knew. Protego Totalum. Fianto Duri. Salvio Hexia. Cave Inimicum. Finite Finis. Repello Inimicum. Inetrabiles…

On and on he went, layering spells that would block magic and physical objects, and charms that would stop him from being seen or even smelt by anyone outside of the clearing. Glancing at his Ouroboros when the last spell was cast, he noted that he still had twenty seconds left, so he began to work on his second layer of defence. He had only just cast the final spell when the bombardment of the clearing began.

Though his Barrier held, Harry was lifted off his feet by the concussive force of the first wave and landed roughly on the dewy grass. Rolling to his feet, he immediately spotted Examiners Parker and Sharma walking calmly towards him, firing their most destructive spells at the Barrier. He glanced at Fields, who didn't seem the least bit unsettled by the blast waves or the deafening explosions. Instead, he simply observed Harry as he scribbled on his parchment.

Harry turned back to face Sharma and Parker who were not restraining themselves in the least. Their onslaught had utterly levelled the area outside the clearing, uprooting trees and digging up metres of earth.

But still, his Barrier held.

Harry smiled. Protections anchored by a Containment Complex were potent but became even more so when grouped in a magically powerful number. While forty-nine would have been his go-to, he knew that a combination of three or seven was all he could manage in the allotted time. As he'd never timed how long it took him to enchant something before, Harry had taken a gamble by going for seven instead of three, but it looked like it was paying off.

It took over five minutes for the first crack in his Barrier to show. All the while, Harry continued to finger his wand, wondering if he was permitted to supplement his defences. However, when the Barrier finally fell at the fifteen-minute mark, and the examiners ended their barrage, the disillusioned raccoons he'd conjured earlier shot forward to attack them from all sides.

Harry did his best to keep a straight face, but hearing their shocked yelps as they were bowled over by a dozen invisible critters made that rather difficult.

Finally, when she and Sharma had managed to fend off the last of his raccoons, Parker stomped over to him. "The test parameters were to see how well you could enchant an area for defence, not to attack us once your Barrier was down!" Even though she was half a head shorter than he was, Harry still had to lean back slightly as she got right in his face.

While Sharma worked to repair the damage they had caused to the surrounding forest, Fields hurried to get between Parker and Harry. "Gale, his conjurations were a part of his initial strategy. Remember, I was here watching the entire time." His voice was still low but insistent. "He didn't cast a single spell after the attack began."

Parker looked between him and Harry before huffing through her nose and stalking away. Harry nodded gratefully at Fields before following him back out of the forest. At first, he was annoyed about Parker's over-the-top reaction, but he probably would have reacted the same way if somebody had laughed at him as invisible raccoons knocked him to the ground.

While Harry wasn't sure if he'd passed the first two exams, he was certain he'd passed the third.

After his name was called, he stepped into the Small Hall and a deep chill immediately washed over him. The bright sun that had been streaming in from the windows faded and was replaced by a dense mist that swept over the room. With his eyes obscured, he relied on his ears, but all he could hear was a slow rattling breath. All these signs were familiar, but he only recognised them when his mind was dulled by a profound sense of misery.

Dementors, Harry thought despondently, his insides pierced by biting cold. They've returned.

But that didn't make sense.

His eyes finally landed on the cloaked figure of a single wraith as it floated menacingly towards him. But he didn't flinch. Knowing all the Dementors had been recalled to Azkaban, Harry pointed his wand right at it, his voice steady and clear. "Riddikulus!"

The Dementor was blown away by an intense gust of wind, revealing it to be as insubstantial as smoke, just like fear itself. The mist faded, and sunlight returned to the room, illuminating the three examiners who had been observing him from a corner of the hall.

"These tests aren't as difficult as I had expected," Harry noted. The ten hopefuls had been given an hour to enjoy a late lunch in the Small Hall and he sat with Cedric and Eliza at a distance from everyone else. "Sure, they're surprising, but nothing a seasoned Cadet shouldn't be able to handle. Or even a talented NEWT student." Cedric was about to reply, but Eliza beat him to it.

"You're overestimating the abilities of our "competitors"." She grumbled into her ham sandwich.

Cedric rolled his eyes at her. "They're probably testing our ability to handle surprise." Harry's mouth was full of chips, so he expressed his question through his eyebrows. Cedric got the gist and explained what he meant. "Think about it. In the Triwizard, they're gonna throw things at us with hardly any prep time. If we can't hack it in the qualifiers, then how can we handle the real deal?"

He had a point.

The Potions Exam was simultaneously the most straightforward and most confusing test of them all. All ten Sentinels were called into the Small Hall at the same time, where it soon became apparent that cheating was not a concern for this particular trial.

Harry took his assigned seat before examining the equipment and ingredients laid out for him on the workbench. He glanced around at those closest to him, noticing that their equipment was identical to his but their ingredients were different.

Like the other tests, the instructions given were minimal and to the point. "Please make a potion from the ingredients before you." When the Sentinels all leaned forward, eager for more guidance, Sharma only added, "You have ninety minutes."

Harry sighed and put his gloves and goggles on before shifting through his ingredients. He tried to remember if he'd ever crafted a potion with this haphazard combination, but nothing came to mind. As some of his rivals had already begun to prepare their ingredients, he felt a swell of panic shoot through him, but he closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. Perhaps that was the point of having all ten of them working within plain view of each other (outside of convenience for the examiners). Maybe they wanted them to get in each other's heads during the one test where seeing their rivals' work would be of no help.

Calm down, Harry told himself as he allowed his consciousness to drop into his Mental Anchor. Getting upset at how unfair this is won't change the reality of the situation. One of your best friends is a potioneering prodigy. You must have picked up a trick or two. Harry opened his eyes and smiled. Try about a hundred, he thought.

First, he poured exactly a litre and a half of Standard Potioning Water into his cauldron, which was about the average for most concoctions. Knowing that he needed a base, his eyes began to scan for something suitable before he snatched up the bottle of Armadillo bile. Feeling triumphant, he searched for anything that could combine with the bile, and he settled on Doxy eggs.

So, a potion with a physical reaction but poisonous for humans to consume? What would be the point of that? Harry decided to find himself a binding agent before he tried to figure that out. He relaxed when he noticed the vial of delicate Lacewing flies among the provided ingredients.

It wasn't a bad start. Not even Terry would have anything to criticise about his three key ingredients, but it wouldn't mean anything if the potion didn't have a use. He needed a reactive element that would make the brew practical, but also something special enough to stand out in this talented crowd. But what could he use-?

His eyes finally settled on the vial of Chameleon scales. Harry felt an idea pop into his mind, fully formed.

Eighty minutes later, Harry was scraping the last of his jelly-like concoction out of his cauldron and into a fourth glass bottle. If it worked, he planned on showing it off to Terry later. While he believed his idea was sound, he didn't have enough time to test it. As such, he was rather nervous when Examiner Sharma declared their time was up.

Harry was glad he was sitting in the back row, as it allowed him to see the results of other people's work before it was his turn. Martin Padgett (the same boy who needed to be taken out of the forest on a stretcher earlier) looked devasted when Examiner Parker refused to drink his potion, instead asking him to sample it. She didn't seem to trust his potioneering skill and with good reason. After one sip, every part of Padgett immediately turned purple- his skin, hair, eyes, everything- and he fell to the ground, knocking his workbench over as he went.

While Parker hurried him to the Hospital Wing on a stretcher (again), the other two continued their assessments. Fortunately, no one else had a result that bad. The worst cases were when Vincent Bardsley's ears spontaneously combusted and Allison Arncliff had scaly arms grow out from her neck (though, from Fields' approving nods, Harry gathered that this was deliberate. He couldn't imagine why.)

Not everyone had negative results. Eliza had brewed a Strengthening Solution, Cedric a Wit-Sharpening Potion and, most irritatingly of all, Rittenhouse had made a Cleaning Solution. He demonstrated its use on the bottom of his workbench- which had more gum than surface- leaving it spotless.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. Making sure his Dragon-hide gloves were securely on, he upended the contents of one bottle onto his palm before slathering the seat of his chair with it. There was a terrifying moment where nothing seemed to happen, but then the ointment sunk into the surface of the wood and the seat vanished from sight.

"An Invisibility Ointment," Examiner Sharma nodded. "Well done."

"Err…thank you," Harry said, feeling like an idiot. Of course, someone had already invented this potion. It was too simple not to have been.

"Did you make any adjustments to the recipe?" She asked as she carefully poked and prodded his seat with her wand.

Harry hesitated. He didn't follow a recipe. He didn't even know there was a recipe. "I added coriander so it would be safe to use directly on skin, and sprigs of lavender to leave behind a pleasant scent once the invisibility fades."

He was relieved when Sharma smiled. "Ah, a dual purpose." Harry smiled tersely. The idea to add lavender sprigs was borne from desperation as the ointment had emitted an awful stench before he had done so.

"You independently invented the Invisibility Ointment?" Anthony asked for the second time that evening, his voice full of disbelief. "You've never even heard of it before now?"

"No," Harry yawned, leaning back against the window. The two of them and Terry were sitting in one of the common room's many window alcoves while Michael did his homework on the floor.

"Then how in the world did you-?"

"I just thought "What would Terry do?" and it all came quite easily to me after that." He grinned and clapped Terry on the shoulder. "You saved my hide, mate. Cheers."

"You're welcome," Terry said happily. "I love getting thanked for things I didn't do. Normally, I only get blamed for things I didn't do."

"You did do something, sort of," Harry explained. "Somehow, just by hanging out with you, I've picked up things about potioneering when I never cared to. You've been a good influence on me."

"A good influence? Me?" Terry sounded touched. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Really? That's so sad," Michael muttered from where he was lying on his belly. Terry swung a kick at him but missed- because his legs were too short- and he hit the inkpot instead. "OI!" Michael bellowed as his Arithmancy essay was splattered with ink. He'd just come back from a lengthy Quidditch practice and had two essays he needed to get done before bed. Now, that number was back to three.

Even Terry knew he'd messed up. "Sorry! I didn't mean-!" he was cut off as Michael threw himself at him with a roar.

Ignoring the fight in the background, Anthony asked, "Are you nervous?"

"Yes," Harry admitted unashamedly. "I'll be furious with myself if I lose any of the duels, but I don't think I could look myself in the mirror if I fail to even qualify to compete in them."

"Come off it," Anthony didn't look concerned. "You're all Sentinels. How many of you will outright fail the entry tests?"

Two, as it turned out.

After breakfast the following day, the examiners summoned all ten hopefuls to the Small Hall, where they broke the news in their usual no-nonsense manner.

"Two of you have failed," Examiner Fields said bluntly. He began to wave his wand through the air, leaving behind a glowing trail of connected lines. "Like the third and final Preliminary Round of the Triwizard Tournament, this duelling competition will be single-elimination. Only the Top 3 will become next year's Triumvirate."

They waited in tense silence for him to say which two had failed before his wand stopped moving and it became obvious. The connected lines were brackets and the matchups for the first round were laid out, clear as day. While Padgett and Bardsley began to argue their cases, Harry focused on who his first opponent would be.

POTTER vs. RITTENHOUSE

Harry turned to find Samuel Rittenhouse already smirking at him from across the room. Rolling his eyes, he followed the others out of the hall and tried to ignore the anxiety that was building in his stomach.

Rittenhouse was a prick, but he was one of the best students in his year, and the 4th-ranked Sentinel behind Eliza, Cedric and the Seventh Year, Jason Pangborn. Simply put, he was a hard bastard. People wouldn't put up with him otherwise.

Harry had his work cut out for him.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Just like yesterday, the eight remaining hopefuls weren't expected to go to their lessons. However, instead of a series of exams to occupy their time, they were left to their own devices after being told to meet at the Quidditch Stadium at four o'clock. The reason for this was clear: lessons ended at three and students and staff began to fill the stands by half past. The entire school was eager to see them duke it out, so the examiners had to raise their voices to be heard.

"Any spell is permitted, so long as it doesn't result in the immediate death of your opponent," Parker informed them. "While physical attacks are allowed, a win will only be accepted if it results from a spell, so you can't physically beat each other into submission, alright?"

"So it's just the usual rules, then?" Eliza asked impatiently.

Parker narrowed her eyes but couldn't argue. "Yes."

The other examiners, perhaps sensing their colleague's irritation, were quick to move things along. "If our first duellists could make their way to the changing rooms." Sharma glanced warily at her silently fuming colleague. "Please," she urged.

As his duel was the first scheduled, Harry didn't share Eliza's impatience. He gave her an annoyed look before walking to his designated changing room. She gave him a rude hand gesture in return.

Harry had grown enough over the last year that he needed brand-new duelling gear. He took care to wear them in a little by stretching and moving in awkward poses around the changing room for a few minutes before stepping out into the arena. The last thing he needed in the middle of a duel was a stiff pair of hose.

Two figures were waiting for him in the centre of the stadium. "I was starting to think you'd lost your nerve, Potter," Rittenhouse said the moment he was within earshot. He crossed his arms to show off the bold IV on his sapphire armband, silently boasting of his higher ranking.

Harry was bored of him already. "It'll take a lot more than you to unnerve me."

"Enough of that," Professor Hooch interrupted before Rittenhouse could snap back. "Save it for the duel. Now-" she went over the rules again, waited for their verbal consent, and then ordered them back to their respective corners.

Once Harry was in his starting position, he drew his wand and turned to face Rittenhouse. He didn't even try to stop the vicious grin that stretched across his face. The four preceding rounds had been something to worry about, as he'd been competing against students with two or three more years in the classroom than him, but this he knew.

Duelling was what he was born to do.

"BEGIN!"

"Stupefy!" Harry didn't bother casting it nonverbally, as it was only meant to keep Rittenhouse on the move for his actual attack. However, he never got the chance to bring his initial idea to fruition, as his opponent had already managed to catch him by surprise. Instead of beginning the duel with the standard martial spell attack, Rittenhouse conjured over a hundred daggers from thin air, momentarily blocking the sun from sight, and flung them all at Harry with incredible speed.

Depulso! Unsure of his ability to vanish over a hundred fast-moving objects, Harry simply banished them away from him. Some of the blades flew right back at their conjurer while the rest collided with the Barrier that kept the crowd safe from the duellists' attacks.

While he'd been a little surprised by his opponent's first move, Harry wasn't one to linger in shock. Taking advantage of Rittenhouse's momentarily impaired sight, Harry sprinted forward with all the speed he was capable of, pumping his limbs with the necessary Mana to do so. However, he hadn't yet crossed the arena's centreline when Rittenhouse vanished the knives and spotted Harry's straightforward approach.

Harry didn't slow down when Rittenhouse conjured a cheetah to meet him head-on, and he prepared to hit it with a Confundus Charm as it leapt right at him. However, when the cheetah was in mid-air, it seemed to blur around the edges for the briefest of instances before being replaced by one of the many daggers he'd banished earlier.

A Switching Spell. Damn it.

The dagger carried the same momentum the cheetah had when it made its leap. Harry didn't have enough time to think of another spell, much less cast it, so he instinctively flung his left arm over his face and the dagger embedded itself in his bicep.

Harry swallowed a cry of pain he didn't have time for. Through Mage Sight, he could already sense the cheetah running at him from behind, and the volley of spells Rittenhouse was unleashing from the front, so he acted quickly.

Meteolojinx! Deprimo! In an instant, a storm overtook the stadium. Low, dense clouds quickly formed and released sheets of pouring rain, blocking Harry from sight as he dropped into the pit his second spell had created beneath his feet.

Efosso! His Tunnelling Spell formed the earth back over him before the hole could fill with rainwater. He then used it to move underground to where he could already sense Rittenhouse moving from his original position.

Not wanting to gamble on whether or not Rittenhouse knew Mage Sight, Harry moved underground at a dead sprint. He trusted that his repeated Tunnelling Spell would be enough to clear a safe path for him beneath the pitch. Harry knew the exact moment to reemerge when he sensed Rittenhouse's presence above his head.

Pavimovere! Defodio! A column of earth sprang from the ground beneath his feet, carrying him to the surface, and his Gouging Charm opened the path back into the open air. The second he emerged, Harry shot a Stunning Spell where his Mage Sight told him Rittenhouse was standing. However, he'd been so focused on his opponent that he'd temporarily forgotten about the other presence in the arena.

When Rittenhouse fell to the ground after clumsily shielding himself against the Stunning Spell, Harry moved to press his advantage, but then the cheetah made another leap for him. Harry made the mistake of reacting instinctively for the second time in this duel.

"Confringo!" Harry immediately regretted not attacking with a Severing Charm, as the point of impact for the Blasting Curse was far too close. He was thrown backwards and off his feet when the cheetah was blown to chunky bits. Groaning, as his ears were ringing, Harry lifted his head slightly from the muddy puddle he had fallen into, only to be met by the sight of Rittenhouse rolling onto his side.

Perhaps Rittenhouse was also recovering from being too close to the explosion because he didn't immediately spot Harry's dark clothes against the muddy ground. Harry wasn't going to question his good luck. He saw Rittenhouse's eyes widen when they finally landed upon him, but it was too late.

Invium Fulmen! Baubillious! First insulating himself against the fallout of his attack, Harry stabbed his wand into the muddy water below, and crackles of electricity fanned out across the wet earth in all directions, including the small puddle Rittenhouse was standing in. The Sixth Year stiffened as electricity visibly travelled through his body, his limbs locked and his hair stood on end before Harry finally ended the Taser Charm.

As his opponent fell to the ground, where he lay unmoving, Harry climbed to his feet and stood over him triumphantly. Or at least that's how it looked to the cheering crowd. With a dagger in his arm and his ears still ringing from the explosion, his heart was racing at how close the entire duel had been.

Harry had made it to the Top 4, but he would have to be much better in his next duel if he had any hope of qualifying, especially with who he was facing.

He would have preferred to team up with Cedric in the Triwizard, but if he had to go through him to qualify, then he would do so without hesitation.

Author's Notes:

Ten months since I last updated this story. That's crazy.

First I was busy editing what I already wrote for plot holes and grammar, and then I made the mistake of starting One Piece. Every free moment of screen time I had over the last seven months was spent watching that show. It's definitely worth it, (might be my recency bias speaking, but it's now my favourite story ever) but it's a commitment.

Anyway, thanks to my reviewers. I appreciate it. But I've learned my lesson about promising frequent updates.