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.

2. He Walks Between the Raindrops

CHAPTER ONE

He Walks Between the Raindrops

When he'd been trapped in the endless revision leading into the WOMBAT exams, Harry hadn't been able to stop daydreaming about the coming summer.

He was hoping it would be better than the one that had preceded it- although that was a low bar- and was determined to make the most of his ten weeks off before Cadet training began in September.

However, he never expected it to be all sunshine and ice cream. He needed to continue regular training just to maintain his current level, and he was due to begin OWL studies when the new academic year began, so he needed to study ahead in all his subjects for that as well.

Still, despite all that, he hoped to spend time lounging around Brightstone House in front of the Odeon, wandering around Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley with his friends and going somewhere exotic with his family.

While he managed to get around to all those things, it wasn't in the ways he expected.

The first surprise came in the form of his new training regimen. It was like last year, but Nicolas had increased the physical and magical exercises enough for Harry to finish much later in the day than he usually would have as his body took time to adjust to the increased strain.

The one thing that he still wasn't sure about was Nicolas' new attitude towards his training. He had no idea where it had come from, but he was much stricter with him now than he was last summer, and he'd been so since their return from Memphis back in March. No matter how quickly he completed his uphill sprints, how long he swam, or how deft he became at dodging incoming spells, his master never seemed completely satisfied with his performance.

Honestly, it was rather disheartening.

When Harry was done pushing his body to its limits, he would then return to his Mana strengthening exercises. However, as his reserves had expanded significantly over the last year, Nicolas added a twist to the old exercise to keep Harry on his toes.

He was to run through their section of Brighstone Forest in chase of an animated humanoid target and hit it with a spell before chasing after the next that would shimmer into visibility the moment its predecessor was taken down. The first was the slowest, the second slighter faster and so on, until the sixth would move at a speed that Harry couldn't even chase.

"How many are there?" He asked, gasping for breath. He was lying flat on his back on the leaf and twig-strewn ground.

"I made thirteen for you," Nicolas said, the tinge of familiar disappointment clear in his voice. "I expected you to be able to keep up with at least seven as you are now."

Harry would have glared at him, but he didn't want to risk getting sweat in his eyes by opening them. He was too tired to wipe himself down. "Why is this necessary?"

"It's to increase your speed, dexterity, Mana Reserves, aim-"

"No," Harry cut him off. "I meant why is the sudden increase in training necessary?"

"I have told you previously," Nicolas sighed. "There is something I want to teach you before your new Squad Captain takes up most of your training hours. Something that only I can teach you."

"Oh?" That piqued Harry's interest enough that he opened his eyes after wiping the back of his hand across his brow. "What is it?"

Nicolas grinned. "If you want to know, you'll have to do better than this."

Harry closed his eyes again, much too depleted to rise to the challenge. "Fine. Don't tell me." He sighed. "But that still doesn't explain why we can't learn this later. I mean, even if Cadet training takes up all my free time outside of class, we can still work on whatever this is next summer."

"No." Nicolas sounded firm. "We're running out of time."

Harry nodded slowly. "The window to save my parents closes when I turn eighteen." He paused, before voicing the theory he'd been ruminating on for a while. "I think killing Voldemort might be the key to freeing them."

His eyes were still closed, but he could feel Nicolas start against the tree he'd been leaning against. "What?"

Harry tried to explain his thought process. "You know, the Law of Equal Exchange? They made their sacrifices to stop him, so-"

"That's not how that works," Nicolas sighed.

"But you don't know for sure." Harry reminded him. "No one does, because no one else has ever done what my parents did in the way they did it."

"I don't think you're as exhausted as you claim to be," Nicolas muttered. "Your brain is working too hard."

Harry ignored him. "I'm not afraid of doing it, you know. Killing him, I mean." He spoke without hesitation, as he'd been considering this for a long time. "When Voldemort first told me that there was a prophecy about the two of us, I was scared, even though I didn't want to admit it. "How in the hell is a kid supposed to kill the most powerful Dark Sage in history?" That was all I could think about back then."

"And now?" Nicolas asked softly.

"I've been through a lot since then. Maybe too much, but every time I was backed into a corner, I managed to work my way out of it. Sometimes without any outside help at all." He thought of the Basilisk, Dementors and Kitty Lawless and her Rogues. "Facing every single one of those obstacles made me stronger, so I wouldn't go back and change any of it even if I could."

"I've heard of people looking for silver linings, but this is just…" Nicolas trailed off.

Harry opened his eyes. "Are you pitying me?" He didn't wait for a response. "Adversity has made me stronger than I could have been, so the way I see it, hardship is just a necessary stepping stone on my way to becoming Magister."

"Since when did you want to become Magister?" Nicolas sounded surprised but pleased with him for the first time in ages.

Harry shrugged, hiding his smile. "Doesn't everyone want to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world?" He didn't want to admit that his vague goal had only solidified when he'd first read his mother's letter and learned she had once shared his dream.

"Yes, but few are willing to work for it."

Harry sat up and looked him in the eyes. "That thing you want to teach me, am I ready to learn it right now?"

Nicolas' lips twitched. "I thought you were tired." When Harry said nothing, he shrugged. and explained. "There are two incredibly difficult techniques you must learn before then."

Harry rose to his feet as steadily as he could. "Teach me."

This time Nicolas was unable to hide his smile. "You're suddenly motivated."

Harry shrugged. He was unable to explain it, even to himself, but something about voicing his end goal out loud for the first time had revitalised him. "I have absolutely no intention of losing to Voldemort or anyone else, ever again."

Nicolas snorted. "You're reducing an entire war to a battle of egos."

"I never said I wanted to be good." Harry smiled mischievously. "Just great."

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

Life at Brightstone House had changed since last summer.

Without any input from Harry, Nicolas had invited his godparents, Maia Black and Remus Lupin, to come and live with them. Harry had been pleased by this, as he'd been put in an uncomfortable position when Maia asked if he wanted to live with her. He wasn't sure how to tell her that he didn't want to leave the only real home he'd ever had.

Still, the new living arrangements had made him rather tense when he'd been back at school, as Nicolas and Maia were virtual strangers to each other. Fortunately, when the Healers of Lady Lestari's Hospital released her with a clean bill of health at the end of June, Harry and Remus had been surprised to find that the two got on like a house on fire, with all the possibility of destruction that phrase included.

They were both quick with their words and prone to saying outlandish things, and they shared the same self-amused quality that could be terribly annoying at times. As the only reasonable adult in the house, Remus often found himself as the butt of the joke, and whenever he hid himself away in the library it was Harry who was often forced to act as the grown-up.

Despite this, Harry never became angry at them for getting along as he'd noticed the same sort of sadness overtake their features when they were lost in thought.

He could forgive a little childishness if it spared them from dwelling on the past.

Physical changes had been made to Brightstone House as well. Unseen to the eye, there was a tunnel that now connected the kitchen to a second basement, deep underground for Remus and Maia's monthly adventures. From how it had been described to him, it was similar to the room that the Hidebehind had inhabited back at Hogwarts, an artificial forest for his godparents to run around in their canine forms.

It hadn't been explicitly said, but Harry wasn't allowed to see it with his own eyes. He suspected that Remus didn't want Harry to equate him with a creature that needed to be contained in such a way. Harry could respect that and minded his own business.

The other change that had been made to the house was the addition of a garage for Maia. Harry had voiced his disbelief when she first told him about her flying motorbike, and she'd promised to show him once her name had been cleared. Unfortunately, upon gaining her freedom, she discovered that her old bike had been destroyed with the rest of her belongings after her imprisonment.

Maia had fallen into a dark mood and Harry didn't know how to make her feel better. Fortunately, Remus knew her much better than he did.

"You didn't have to, you know." Maia tried to sound serious but was unable to hide her joy as she examined her new motorbike.

"I think we both know I did." Remus shrugged. Maia shot him a look over her shoulder, a familiar one that reproached any semblance of guilt from her old friend. She was happy to leave things in the past, but Remus seemed unable to stop beating himself up for believing the worst of her.

Maia turned back to running her hands along the bike euphorically. "I'm glad you did though. She's beautiful." Harry knew little of motorbikes, but even he had to agree. It was a sleek thing, gunmetal grey with a black leather seat and an engine that sounded like a smooth purr. Maia looked at Harry with a wide smile. "Do you want to help make it fly?"

Harry couldn't agree fast enough.

It was long, steady work that was made no less difficult by how chopped up their schedule was. When Harry first agreed, he'd assumed Maia would be doing the majority of the work, but she was determined to teach him all about the inner workings of the machine and what magical adjustments they would be making to it.

Harry was always happy to learn something interesting, but he felt bad that he was only able to work with her for an hour or two in the evenings after he finished studying and healed himself from all the training he'd done during the day.

"Don't worry about it," Maia told him when he voiced these concerns to her. "I would be bored out of my mind doing this myself, and I enjoy your company."

"Likewise." Harry smiled. It was the truth. In the middle of taking apart the bike and showing him how to etch different Runic Complexes onto the individual pieces, Maia would talk about anything and everything. He suspected that she enjoyed having other people around to voice her thoughts to after a decade spent in isolation, and her Mind Healer had told Remus that surrounding her in the company of trusted others was the key to her moving forward.

Which only made Harry feel worse for leaving her to her own devices for most of the day while he was training. Still, even though the sound of her voice made concentrating on the painstaking task of enchanting every part of the bike more difficult, he wouldn't silence her for anything in the world.

Even if the topic at hand was terribly embarrassing for him.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" Maia asked knowingly.

Harry remained stubbornly focused on the rune he was carving into a gear. "Not really. Just hanging out with my mates in Diagon."

Maia hummed. "Just your friends? No one else? No one special?"

Harry sighed. "How old are you?"

She chuckled. "I would love to give you more advice, but I'm not sure if my experiences would be of any use to you."

Harry didn't know what she meant by that, as it was clear from her stories that she'd been on plenty of dates. "It's not a date, you know. Not really. All the Ravenclaws in my year are just hanging out together."

"And who gave you that idea?" Maia prompted. "Who convinced you that it would make things smoother to have all your friends along?"

Harry paused. "It was you, wasn't it? Damn it, I forgot."

Maia laughed. "How many people have been talking to you about this?"

"Only every adult I know." Harry sighed. "Even Hagrid told me to be respectful of her boundaries and set some of my own."

"That's good advice." Maia nodded as she took the gear from Harry to examine his work.

"If we were twenty and moving in together." Harry tutted. "I have no idea what he meant by that."

Maia paused and looked up at him. "Do you not-? Hasn't Remus ever-?" She looked as though she were struggling to find the correct way to phrase what she wanted to say, but Harry understood from context alone.

"He never had to." He quickly said. "We learned about the biology of it in primary school, and I've heard some things." He tried to keep it vague that most of what he knew was from salacious magazines and tidbits gathered from older students.

"You've heard some things?" Maia repeated flatly. "You'll forgive me if I don't think that sufficient." Before Harry could convince her that it really was, she turned her head and bellowed, "OI! REMUS!"

"No, no, no," Harry groaned. He palmed his reddening face. "Tell me this isn't happening."

"What have I told you about shouting for me like that?" Remus sighed as he stepped into the garage. Of everyone in the house, he had fallen into the laidback summer mood the hardest. He spent most of his days wearing fluffy slippers around the house and constantly had his nose buried in one of his romance novels. His need to make the most of his holiday before he returned to Hogwarts in September had been enough to kill the shame that he once held at reading those books out in the open.

"Have you ever spoken to Harry about the wonders of sex?" Maia asked cheerily.

In contrast to Harry's incandescent face, Remus paled. "Well…no. But he doesn't need to hear any of that yet," he added quickly. "We still have a few years left."

"A few years?" Maia looked incredulous. "You might want to move up your timeline there, Professor Lupin. Tomorrow's the big day."

"Nothing is going to happen!" Harry protested when Remus turned to face him, utterly appalled. "There's a group of us and we're just wandering around Diagon Alley, maybe getting some ice cream, but that's it!"

Remus didn't bother hiding his sigh of relief. "See, there's no reason-"

"If you don't speak to him about this, I will," Maia said simply.

Remus stiffened and stared at her. After a brief and silent battle of wills, he deflated and turned back to Harry. "Come on. We have no choice now." Harry didn't even voice a protest this time, as learning what he needed to know from Remus would be less painful. Maia wouldn't be able to resist bringing up whatever awkward questions he had at a later date, maybe even when his friends were around.

He needed to know for sure. "You won't tell anyone what we talk about, right?" He asked as Remus closed and placed a Muffling Charm on the sitting room door. "Not even Maia?"

"I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy," Remus reassured him. They both took their seats and sat around awkwardly for a minute before he sighed. "Ready?"

Harry nodded slowly, like a man sentenced to his execution. "Let's get this over with."

Remus smiled briefly. "Okay, the first thing you need to know: don't ever say those words to a partner." His discomfort seemed to evaporate at that, and he started explaining things that Harry had always been curious about and other things he'd never even considered before. While it was enlightening, that conversation would always remain the most uncomfortable twenty minutes of his life.

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

The next day, it was a much-harrowed Harry that Flooed into The Leaky Cauldron.

His eyes traced over the tavern, his gaze flitting across the numerous patrons who were eating and drinking either before or after doing their shopping on a bright July afternoon. Spotting a bored Michael sitting at a table by himself near the back entrance, he made his way over to him.

"Hey, how are you?" Harry asked, slumping into a chair.

"I reckon we could get fire whiskey served to us in here," Michael said in lieu of an actual greeting.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How have you been over the last couple of weeks?" Harry said in a poor imitation of Michael's voice.

Michael grinned. "I'm sorry, mate. How've you been?"

"Exhausted. Nicolas has been training me to near death-"

"Yeah, yeah, that's great." Michael's eyes went back to the bar where the barkeep was wiping down the counter with an already filthy rag. "That barman looks shady enough to serve us actual drinks."

"No, he won't," Harry said succinctly.

"And why not?" Michael asked indignantly. "I can pay him well enough with what Amelia forks over to me and Susan every week."

"Because you look even younger than you really are."

"I'll be fourteen in a couple of months!"

"You hardly look ten."

Michael let out a huff of frustrated air. "Whatever. You can sip on a butterbeer while I knock back a shot of fire whiskey or maybe even a lobe-blaster-"

"You've been spending too much time with the Quidditch team," a familiar voice said. Terry and Anthony had arrived with their mother, Joan. It was she who had spoken and she reached forward to pinch Michael's cheek. "You be careful, Michael Corner. The barkeep is an old friend of mine so I'll know if you request anything you shouldn't."

Michael gave her an embarrassed smile. "I'll just fetch us a round of butterbeers, shall I?" He got up and quickly made his way to the bar.

Joan watched him go with a fond smile before turning to Harry and her sons. "I need to get going. Behave, boys." She walked out of the tavern through the back entrance then with a departing wave.

"Aww, dropped off by mummy for your playdate," Harry said mockingly, even though he secretly liked how Joan had included him in her warning to behave. "Isn't that sweet?"

"Piss off," Anthony said as he took his seat across from Harry. "She had a lunch date with some friends and left the Citadel at the same time as us."

"A likely story." Harry grinned at Anthony's grumble. "You and Joan seemed to have gotten close." He told Michael when he returned levitating four mugs of butterbeer.

Terry glared at Harry over his drink. "I don't like what you're implying."

Harry raised his hands. "I'm not implying anything, just that Joan doesn't seem to hate Michael for existing like most people seem to."

"Thanks, Harry," Michael muttered as he took his seat again. "You know how to make a guy feel all warm inside."

Anthony spoke then, saving Harry from digging himself any deeper. "Even though she's never had a Cadet Squad of her own, Mum is really good at training students." He sounded rather proud.

"So, it's all going well then?" He asked. "You guys have been vague in your letters, and we never seem to catch each other on the communication mirrors." He knew that Joan had begun to personally train her sons upon learning of their intentions to enlist in the Auror Corps in September. She had also been kind enough to invite Harry and Michael to join them.

"It's going brilliantly," Terry said happily, the mistaken comment about his mother forgotten. "I've never been able to get the Basic Seven down before, but now I can do them all really easily."

"No need to brag," Michael muttered. When Harry glanced at him, he elaborated. "Shield Charms can be a little tricky."

Harry nodded. "I know. Not knowing which one to use for different attacks still gets me sometimes too."

Michael stared at him. "There's more than one kind?"

Before Harry could decide if he was joking or not, Anthony asked, "Are you sure you don't want to join us? It'll be good if we could get the whole team together before summer's over."

Harry shrugged. "I'll come over when you get around to team exercises. Before then, it'll make more sense if I just stick to what I'm doing now." While he would have loved to train with his friends, Nicolas' eccentric style of teaching took a while to get used to, and with all respect to Joan, he didn't think she could offer him what the Immortal Alchemist could.

Anthony shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "That's fine. It's nice to get a day off though."

"Yeah, this was a great idea." Michael agreed. Harry was surprised by that, as he'd asked his friends to accompany him as a personal favour, and he was even more surprised by what Michael said next. "Harry, now that you're with Lisa, do you think you could get me in with Padma?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

Michael hastened to explain. "Well, she's Lisa's best friend and I'm your best friend-"

"No, I'm Harry's best friend." Terry interrupted him. He turned to Harry then. "Will you set Anthony up with Isobel for me, your best friend?" He directed these last three words at Michael.

"What?!" Anthony choked, having been in the middle of a sip.

"Get in line!" Michael hissed. "I asked first."

Terry ignored him and addressed his brother. "She's the only girl you won't break your back kissing." That was true. Anthony and Isobel were the two tallest people in their year.

"Who said anything about kissing?" Anthony looked more embarrassed than Harry had ever seen him.

"You've got a point about that." Harry agreed with Terry's assessment and ignored Anthony's betrayed look. "But no requests for yourself?" He asked, still wondering where this sudden interest had come from. Before today, he and his friends had only spoken vaguely about girls and now they were squabbling over them as though it weren't embarrassing in the least.

He wondered if rudimentary duelling training was all he'd missed while they'd worked together this last fortnight.

Terry made a face at the mere suggestion. "I'd rather not."

Harry was silently relieved. If he went out with Amanda he would fear for the timid girl's safety, and if he went out with the excitable Su he would fear for the safety of others.

Before the others could make any more demands of him, the girls arrived all at once. Harry's eyes immediately went to Lisa, noting how cute she looked in just a black Siren Call t-shirt and jean shorts. However, his awareness of her attractiveness led his mind to the disturbing details of Remus' painfully long talk. Even though it included things his godfather guaranteed would be taught in Healing Class throughout OWL level, Harry still felt disturbed by it all.

Despite this, he still felt the familiar fluttering sensation in his belly when Lisa smiled upon seeing him.

"Hey! I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." Lisa all but ignored the others as she greeted Harry with a quick hug. "Thanks for suggesting this," she whispered so only he could hear. "There's no way my parents would have let me go out with a boy on my own."

Harry was never going to doubt Maia again. "No problem." He turned to the others. "Want to get lunch or-?"

"We can eat any old time." Su waved him off. "Let's go out and buy stuff!"

Despite Su's loud proclamation, none of them actually purchased anything. In fact, they treated Diagon Alley as though it were a museum, and the shops were the exhibits. One of their stops was in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, as they all stared at the latest model, The Firebolt. Even Terry- a self-proclaimed Quidditch hater- admitted it was a work of art.

Even after they collectively managed to drag a drooling Michael away from the state-of-the-art broomstick, they continued their aimless wandering up and down the Alley. It was a good thing the Dementors had been recalled from populated areas after the lack of results over the last year, as it would have put a damper over their sunny afternoon.

Harry started when Lisa broke his train of thought by taking his hand. Somehow, they'd found themselves at the back of the group, so she was the only one to notice his reaction. "Static shock," he lied. He quickly interwove her fingers with his so she wouldn't focus on his weak excuse.

While Harry was glad he'd listened to Maia about having a group outing instead of the one-on-one date Lisa had first suggested, he was now starting to wish he hadn't spoken to her about it at all. Both she and Remus had gotten into his head, the latter unknowingly and the former for her own amusement.

Realising that he must have been acting strangely from an outside perspective, he gave a still concerned-looking Lisa his best smile and asked, "Want to actually go buy something?" He gestured towards Flourish and Blotts.

"You brought me in here to buy that?" Her voice was low, but the amusement in her words was audible.

Harry smiled guiltily as he hefted the eighth and latest instalment of his favourite book series: Captain Armstrong and the Grail of Elysium. "I know it's a little messed up after what Advocate Armstrong tried to pull, but these books are just too good to give up on." He didn't even try to hide how excited he was to read it.

"They're so unrealistic, it's absurd." Lisa teased. She walked away, leaving Harry to follow after her. "Villains, damsels in distress and cheesy one-liners. It's so juvenile."

"I think you mean "campy." It's just an exaggerated version of reality."

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Harry grinned. "Because it's a bit like my life, to be honest."

"Oh yeah?" Lisa glanced back at him over her shoulder. "And who's your damsel in distress?"

Harry paused as they came to a stop in front of racks of glossy magazines. "There's no right answer for that, is there?" Lisa snorted. She picked up the latest issue of Witch Weekly, the cover of which was emblazoned with a bold headline: Bejewelled Heroines Threaten Breakup Over Fleeing Sunlight Singer! "Now that's juvenile."

Lisa smirked. "But without outstanding journalism like this, how will I know who stole whose Vampire lover?" They headed to the counter to pay.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "The headline doesn't say anything about stealing a Vampire lover." It was his turn to smirk. "Have you been following the story?" He knew that the Vampire boyband, Fleeing Sunlight, was immensely popular with the girls at Hogwarts, but he still found the idea of Lisa being a fan of theirs rather funny.

"Only for the Heroines," Lisa said firmly, ruining his fun. "I've got tickets for their concert in Hogsmeade next month. It'll be a waste of money if they refuse to perform because of all the drama." She reached for her Gringotts key, but Harry beat her to it.

"I've got it." Maia had said that a boy paying for everything was old-fashioned, but Remus had insisted on it and Harry trusted him more. At least when it came to not deliberately humiliating him.

"Thanks, but you're going to have to buy me an ice cream too if you want to come even close to paying me back for your ticket," Lisa said as they left the bookshop.

Harry turned to her in surprise. "You bought one for me as well?"

"Of course." She said this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, but he could clearly see her cheeks pinken as she kept her gaze determinedly ahead. "You don't want me to go alone, do you?"

"I really want to go," Harry said bluntly. He'd wanted to see Bejewelled Heroines live for a while now, but he was too embarrassed to admit that he was a fan of theirs. Terry- who was a proud fan of the girl group- would never have been able to keep his mouth shut about it if he'd taken him along. It was only now he realised going with a girl was the perfect excuse.

Lisa whipped her head around to face him. "Really? That's great! I promise they're really good. I can lend you a couple of their albums if you like?"

"Oh, that's all right." Harry blustered. He already owned every album they'd released and was eagerly awaiting the new single that was rumoured to drop in October. "I bought an album of theirs back when I was still figuring out what I like, so I've already heard some of their stuff."

"Brilliant! I've got two more tickets, but I've already promised one to Su." Harry was momentarily relieved that it wasn't Padma, as he could only handle her waspishness in small doses. "Why not have Michael take the last?" She said this far too casually for Harry not to comment on it.

"Why Michael? Why not Anthony?" Even though he was a Heroines fan, he didn't bother asking for Terry. He and Lisa had always rubbed each other the wrong way.

Lisa glanced around, as though hoping a reasonable answer would suddenly materialise from thin air, before sighing. "Su is interested in him."

Harry blinked. "Oh. Okay then." He paused. "Have they ever actually spoken? Like, alone?"

Lisa smiled and shook her head as though he were being deliberately obtuse. "No, but that's what the concert is for. To see if they get along without anyone else around."

Harry was confused. "But wouldn't we be around?"

Lisa smiled coyly. "No."

He felt his ears burn and repeated himself rather dumbly. "Oh. Okay then." He was saved from having to come up with an actual response when they noticed the others about to enter the ice cream parlour without them.

They all went their separate ways when they left the parlour behind them, but only after Harry made sure to pay Lisa back for the ticket with a sundae that had all the toppings she wanted on it, and she gave him a fleeting kiss before departing through the Floo Network.

Unfortunately, she did so in front of his friends, and they began to mercilessly mock him for it.

"I don't get it." Harry sighed as he took a chair at the table nearest the front windows of The Leaky Cauldron. "You guys pester me about setting you up with her friends, but then you take the mickey out of me over a small peck?"

"Only because you get so worked up over it." Terry smiled. "It wouldn't be any fun otherwise."

"You didn't even set me up with Padma," Michael complained. "So I don't owe you anything."

"You're coming with me, Lisa and Su to a concert next month." He took care to avoid mentioning the band's name in case Terry got worked up over missing out. "Apparently she's interested in you, though only Thoth knows why."

Michael looked considering. "Su? I didn't even speak to her today."

"You were too busy drooling over Padma," Anthony said as he arrived at the table with another round of butterbeers for them all. "No wait, you were drooling over The Firebolt and then Padma."

"Can you blame me?" Michael sighed wistfully, leaving the rest of them to figure out if he was talking about the broomstick or the girl.

Harry sighed. "Please don't act like this in front of Su."

"I never even said I'll go." Michael protested.

Terry snorted. "Oh? What other prospects have you got lined up?" He laughed when Michael remained stubbornly silent. "Did you manage to arrange a date for Anthony as well?"

"I don't need him to arrange things for me!" Anthony hissed.

Harry shook his head. "No takers I'm afraid. He's going to die an old maid."

"He's had a girlfriend for a couple of weeks and suddenly he knows everything," Anthony muttered under his breath.

Harry frowned. "I don't have a girlfriend." The others looked at him doubtfully. "What? I don't. We just hang out together, go off to be alone, hold hands…kiss sometimes…" he trailed off. "Alright, I heard it as I was saying it."

Michael shook his head. "I don't know what's worse. That you're the last person to know you've got a girlfriend or that we're the idiots asking you for advice."

When Anthony and Terry laughed, Harry couldn't stop himself from joining in.

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

One evening, when he was healed and rested from a day's hard training but not working in the garage with Maia, Nicolas asked to meet him outside after dinner.

"What's up?" Harry asked when he walked to where his master was standing at the riverbank. "If you're trying to tell me something in secret, asking me to meet you in front of Remus and Maia is a bad way to do it."

Nicolas smiled at him as he sat down on the grass. "It's not a secret. It's a lesson."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And this lesson couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"

"I thought you would be more excited to learn how to sense Mana," Nicolas asked innocently.

Harry quickly sat down. No matter how many times he'd asked about this, Nicolas had never given him a straight answer. "Go ahead."

"This ability is called Mage Sight," Nicolas explained. "Think of it like a sixth sense, but instead of experiencing the world around you with your physical body, you're able to perceive it with the Mana you already possess."

"I don't follow."

Nicolas paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain it. "Every sorcerer in the world has a finite amount of Mana within them, correct?" He waited for Harry to nod before continuing. "Have you ever considered the possibility that you can release it from your body in its purest form? Without it first being transformed into some kind of effect on the world around you?"

Harry nodded. "I've seen it done before." He explained about his first day at Hogwarts, and how Dumbledore and Akingbade had released Mana from their bodies without conscious thought.

Nicolas nodded. "Now imagine pushing it out of your body in thin, concentrated waves. Like a radar-"

"-so, you can detect what's around you." Harry finished.

"It's not nearly so useful." Nicolas chuckled. "It can't reverberate back to you from physical objects the way radar can. It only does so when it encounters another source of Mana."

"So, Mage Sight can detect sorcerers, and anything created or effected by magic?" Harry frowned as Nicolas nodded. "I can see how that would be useful in a Muggle area or a place like this where there isn't much magic around, but what about places like Hogsmeade or Memphis? It'll be next to useless there."

"Not if you learn to differentiate between different kinds of Mana and the people they come from," Nicolas reassured him. He then quickly added, "But you're a long way from worrying about that."

"How long away?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Last summer I would have said a few years at best, but you've really impressed me, Henry." Harry immediately noticed that his name hadn't been preceded by the word "little". "I asked you to build yourself a solid foundation and you've devoted yourself to it. I know you'll be capable of mastering this far quicker than I can even hope."

"Oh, well thanks." Harry was surprised by the compliment, even feeling it was a little undeserved.

Nicolas brushed past Harry's clear discomfort. "There's something you need to learn first. Something you've been practising without even knowing it."

"What is it?" It would have to be something very subtle for Harry to do it without even realising it.

"Controlling your Mana output," Nicolas said simply. "You must learn to sense your own Mana Reserves beyond the exhaustion you feel when you deplete them. That will be the first step to controlling your output."

"But why would I even want to control my output?" Harry asked. "What would the result of that be?"

"Didn't I already mention this?" Nicolas said, surprised that Harry didn't immediately recall. "You will come to learn exactly how much Mana is necessary for each particular spell, so you will be able to stop yourself from wasting what little you have unnecessarily."

"I don't like the way you keep emphasising how weak I am," Harry muttered. "Anyway, you said that I've been teaching this to myself, but I haven't."

"Really? I've noticed that despite the rapid growth in your reserves, you've managed to keep a tight rein over power." Nicolas pointed out. "No bursts of accidental magic, you've been switching between different Esoteric Arts without pause, and you're able to direct your Mana only through your wand when casting a spell."

Harry blinked. "I didn't realise those were things other people struggled with."

Nicolas hummed. "Most people fail to notice their own strengths, as their weaknesses overtake their thoughts." He smiled then. "I told you before, didn't I? You're adaptable. Now you just need to apply that trait here."

Harry tried to, he really did, but all his attempts ended in failure.

Following Nicolas' instruction, Harry didn't try to tap into his Mana at predetermined times like the rest of his training, as his master said that being able to access it at a moment's notice was of paramount importance. As such, Harry made his attempts during his breaks, meals, and even when he was studying.

The only time he didn't make an attempt was when he was in bed, ready to drift off but falling into the recesses of his mind to organise the day's thoughts and memories.

"Occlumency is an absolute necessity for mastering your Mana output as it teaches you to have a deeper understanding of yourself outside of your body." Nicolas had informed him. "But while your mind and Mana bleed into each other, they are two different things, and it is best to keep them as separate as you can at this stage of your development."

Harry knew that emotion was necessary for spell casting, and that Occlumency was the separation of the mind from emotion, so he didn't question Nicolas on this at all. Getting the two jumbled up seemed like a terrible idea.

However, this meant that even after three weeks he'd made no progress whatsoever.

It was almost enough to put a damper on their sudden trip to the Australian Outback.

Almost.

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

It was a reward for his excellent WOMBAT results. That was what Remus told him anyway.

Maia didn't keep how little stock she put in grades a secret, and it all seemed rather meaningless to Nicolas as he'd been raised in a time before standardised education. As such, it fell to Remus to make sure Harry knew he'd done something great when he received thirteen Outstandings.

In fact, Remus was so pleased with his results, he went and purchased two tickets for Harry and Nicolas to go and see a day's worth of matches at the Duelling World Cup. He didn't say anything, but Harry knew that he was only missing it due to Maia's appointment with her Mind Healer.

Harry kept his mouth shut about it. He knew that Maia was self-conscious on the topic, but he thought Remus was silly for going along with it by purchasing a pair of tickets that must have cost a small fortune at the last minute, especially if he wasn't going.

Harry wasn't all that worried about his godmother as, thanks to his spying, he now knew that her bi-weekly check-ups were just routine. He felt bad about invading her privacy, but it was a lot better than he would have felt if left in the dark.

That was how he left Brightstone House when he and Nicolas departed for Australia one evening. The Portkey yanked them from the pleasantly warm summer night in a forest, to a dry, sunny plain that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

"Are we lost?" Harry asked, his heavy eyes searching for any sign of civilisation. He burrowed his hands deep in the pockets of his bomber jacket as a brisk breeze swept over them, but even that wasn't enough to kill his sleepiness.

"No." Nicolas smiled. "Sharpen your senses."

It was difficult to do so after a day's training, but Harry managed. Like a mirage, the flat plain before him shimmered and a whole new world came into view.

The town was built around a clear blue lake that was so large he could only make out part of it. The buildings were all low and spaced out by trees and massive gardens, taking advantage of the expansive lands around them. Like Memphis, Hogsmeade and even Platform Nine and Three Quarters, there were bridges made of crystal and golden arches that bridged the gap over the lake.

However, there were a few structures that stood out and, due to their imposing size, they had to be situated on the outskirts of the town. The local Citadel was larger than the outpost in Hogsmeade but only because the Dark Beasts that lurked in the Outback were far worse than those in rural Scotland. The Australian Wizarding school, Backe's Academy, was built on the far side of the lake, miles away from the town, so despite its massive size Harry could only see the smallest part of it.

What really caught his attention was the third and nearest colossal structure: a stadium so large it could have fit four of Hogwarts' Quidditch stadiums within it. Logically, Harry knew that it had been constructed recently and temporarily for the Duelling World Cup, but it looked as though it had been standing there forever.

This, he knew, was the only Australian Wizarding town: Backe Waters.

It was named for the Durmstrang Headmaster that was executed by the First Magister. His sons refused to renounce him and were exiled to Australia where they built a homestead for themselves. Eventually, that one farm grew into what it was now: the home of thousands of witches and wizards.

Harry always enjoyed exploring new places- especially places that were rich with history as this town was- but he'd failed to listen to Nicolas' warnings about the time difference, and he was already feeling the impact. He just wanted to lie down and go to sleep.

"Here." Nicolas handed him a vial of Wide-Eye Potion. "I knew you wouldn't listen and take a nap when I told you to."

"Thanks." Harry chugged down the potion as quickly as he could, knowing that it took a few minutes to kick in. "I'm stuck in my sleeping patterns. It's either sleeping potions or nothing with me."

"Don't I know it," Nicolas snorted as he led the way into town. "When your bedtime rolls around you just fall asleep anywhere, don't you?"

Harry shrugged. One of the benefits of having grown up in a cupboard, he thought but didn't dare to say aloud. He had no idea how any of his guardians would react to such news. He was afraid that he would be let down if any of them over or under-reacted, so it was better to just keep it to himself. "Do we have time to explore?"

"Not as much as I would like," Nicolas muttered, glancing at his watch. "The town is overrun with tourists and the day's duels will begin in an hour."

He had a point. While Remus had been able to scrounge up two tickets to see the world's Top 64 duellists whittle themselves down to the Top 32, he'd been unable to book any lodging within Backe Waters.

Harry had to stop Nicolas from bringing up Muggle hotels as an idea, as he knew Remus would not trust them to behave themselves there and he didn't want to get into their brief stays in New York and New Orleans.

Backe Waters was home to almost ten thousand witches and wizards, but Harry could already see from this distance that at least twice that number were walking around town, congesting the streets and flying over buildings on brooms and carpets. If they wanted to make it to the stadium in time, they needed to head there right away.

They paused only twice on their way there. The first time was when Harry stopped to buy a peanut butter milkshake and the second was when Nicolas was "accidentally" swept into an elderly tourist group that hadn't come for the Duelling World Cup, but to see the sights.

When Harry found him, he was in the middle of a fierce debate with an elderly warlock about Wizarding operas from the early nineteenth century. Or rather, the warlock was arguing for it and Nicolas was claiming it was derivative of earlier works from the preceding decades. As Harry didn't care about opera in the least, he felt no guilt at grabbing his mentor by the arm and forcibly excusing them.

"That was rather rude," Nicolas admonished.

"No, what's rude is ruining that man's holiday. It looks like it might be his last." Nicolas tutted disapprovingly, but Harry knew he was right. The man looked about a hundred, and he was a wizard, so he was likely decades older than even that. Maybe even a century older.

No wonder Nicolas got along with him.

Finally, after having their tickets checked, they made it into the stadium.

"Would you look at this?" Harry was unable to remain calm and ran forward to examine the duelling pit.

Their tickets were for the very bottom, right next to the duels themselves. All that would be separating them from the action was a railing and the protective Barrier. The stadium's seats were little more than halfway full and neither of the first duellists had arrived, but Harry suddenly felt overwhelmed with excitement.

"Remind me to do something nice for Remus when we get back," Nicolas said. He took his seat and tugged the back of Harry's jacket to stop him from leaning over the railing. "These seats are excellent."

"He won't accept," Harry said as he sat down. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the still-empty pit. "You opened your home to him, so he probably feels he owes you a gift or something. He's very polite like that."

"And none of it rubbed off on you, did it?" Nicolas asked, eyebrow raised.

Harry smirked. "I'm only polite when it can get me somewhere. Besides, it wouldn't have worked on you, so I never bothered."

"Lovely." Nicolas snorted. "I suppose you would make a good Magister then. Being able to fake politeness is more necessary for politics than it is for other fields."

Soon, the remaining seats were filled and snack-serving Automatons began floating up and down the stairs to attend to the already rowdy spectators. The Wide-Eye Potion had left him hungry, so despite having eaten dinner just three hours ago- and having drunk a large milkshake much more recently than that- he purchased a pineapple soda and a Nogtail hot dog. Nicolas asked for grapes and settled for popcorn instead.

"Eating grapes while people proceed to kill each other for my entertainment makes me feel like a Roman Emperor." He explained to Harry as though this was reasonable thought to have.

The witch sitting on Nicolas' other side gave him a wary look before making her husband swap seats with her.

Harry had come to the Duelling World Cup knowing he would see the world's greatest fighters put all they had on the line for a chance at victory and had prepared his expectations accordingly. Despite this, the level of speed, skill and power on display throughout the first thirty-one duels left him astonished.

He had felt triumphant after becoming a Hogwarts Sentinel, but today changed his perspective. He was forced to acknowledge just how small he was in comparison to these giants. He felt exhausted by the end of the thirty-first duel, as his mind was overworked from trying to learn all he could from the magic that was on display before him.

However, it was the last duel that revitalised him, even before a single spell was cast.

The stadium was so large that most of the spectators couldn't clearly see the duellists, only the impressive spells they cast. To remedy this, a dozen massive Odeons had been posted on the railings of various levels around the arena, so every spectator could have a close look at the competitors and see what the millions of viewers at home were privy to.

In the gaps between duels, the screens played advertisements from companies that must've paid fortunes to have them aired during the World Cup. Harry found them all vaguely interesting, but he was glad when the last advert- The Portkeymobile! Drive like a Muggle, but better! (Portkey destinations must be preapproved by your local Department of Magical Transportation. Portkeymobile ltd. assumes no liability for aquatic or aerial disasters.)- wrapped up.

The names and moving images of the last two duellists flashed onto the screens. Underneath that was all the information that the competition organisers deemed relevant, such as age, nationality, qualifications and profession.

MASON CALVET vs EKON ADEBAYO

Harry's eyes read through the information once. Then he blinked in and read it again. Adebayo's profession read STUDENT/AUROR CADET and his qualifications ended with THIRTEEN OUTSTANDING OWLs.

"Ekon Adebayo." Harry quickly turned to Nicolas, ignoring the sudden uptick of noise from the members of the crowd that were just as surprised as he was. "He's a student at Uagadou? He's sixteen?"

Nicolas hummed. "It would seem so." There was something in his voice that told Harry he wasn't surprised by this at all. However, before he could question him on the matter, the crowd hushed as the referee began to retreat from the arena after going through the regulations with the duellists.

Harry's eyes went back to Ekon, taking note of his tall, lean frame, close-cropped hair and aloof air that was tangible even from this distance. There was something in the prideful way he carried himself that made him seem too old to be a mere NEWT student.

There was silence when the two reached their respective corners. Mason, the French Ingenieur to the left and Ekon, the Nigerian NEWT student to the right. What surprised him was their respective expressions: Mason seemed nervous, and his forehead had a gleam to it that indicated sweat, while Ekon's shoulders were relaxed, and his face was calm and collected.

The referee brought his wand down and there was a flash of golden light.

"BEGIN!"

Mason fired an attack the moment the referee gave the signal. He conjured a shower of blades and propelled them forward with incredible speed. The daggers tore their way across the arena in the blink of an eye. Despite this, Ekon didn't so much as flinch. With a careless flick of his wand, the knives were transfigured into red flower petals which were then scattered across the arena by a summoned breeze.

Ekon's unimpressed expression was clearly visible on the Odeons posted around the arena.

Mason was obviously aggravated by this and cast a thin cloud of mist to obscure his position and actions. This forced Harry to realise how annoying his go-to move must be for spectators now that he was outside the duelling pit.

However, instead of using the mist as cover for his next move, Mason merely vanished the mist a few moments later. Harry didn't understand why until he noticed that the Ingenieur was encased in a thin bubble and the packed earth was now pockmarked with holes.

Corrosive, Harry realised. The mist was corrosive.

Like the other onlookers, Harry began to scan the arena for any sign of Ekon. He half-expected to see the boy lying flat on the ground with melted skin, but Ekon was nowhere to be seen.

Mason seemed pleased at first, but when there was no sign of his quarry his earlier agitation returned in full force. He twirled his wand in what must have been a revealing spell, and while the results weren't obvious to the crowd, they were to Mason. He spun on the spot to face the now visible Ekon.

Unfortunately, this meant he missed the reason behind the sudden cries of shock from the audience.

The flower petals that had been strewn into every corner of the arena had been melted away by the corrosive mist, and each one of them revealed the killer bee lurking within.

Transfiguring non-organic material into a sentient organic being that was hidden within non-sentient organic matter, Harry was watching all this through wide eyes. I didn't even know that was possible. "Seriously, who the hell is this guy?" He asked aloud, only to be shushed by the witch sitting on his other side.

Mason had tried to attack Ekon the moment he laid eyes on him, but his spell went wild when the first bee stung him. Harry couldn't hear him, but he could clearly see the man cry out in both shock and pain that only got worse when he was stung again and again and again.

Finally, before the entire swarm managed to sink their stingers into him, he vanished them all and just about managed to disillusion himself before Ekon's Stunning Spell could land on him. Ekon gritted his teeth momentarily before conjuring a colossal wave of water to sweep before him and reveal his opponent's position.

The Surging Spell did its job and washed over the arena, eventually revealing Mason's position when it was suddenly parted. There, standing in the same spot that Ekon had started the duel on, was Mason, now fully healed from the dozen deadly stings he had suffered.

But Ekon hadn't conjured the wave only to remain stationary. No, he transfigured a patch of the flowing water into ice before leaping aboard and surfing along with the wave's momentum.

That's my move, Harry thought, even though Ekon had done it with far more grace and skill than he'd ever managed.

Mason tensed when Ekon fell out of sight again, but either his senses had sharpened after his earlier error with the flower petals or the sudden noise of the crowd gave the game away. He jumped forward just in time to dodge Ekon's second Stunning Spell that had been launched from above.

Ekon then leapt from the crashing wave's crest, clearly wanting to press his advantage, and shot a spell at the ground to soften his landing, but for the first time in this duel, it was Mason that had laid out a trap that was perfectly sprung.

Instead of bouncing off the ground from a Softening Charm, Ekon fell into the packed earth, and the rapidly working quicksand managed to swallow him waist-deep before he even knew what was going on.

For just a moment, both duellists smiled. Mason did so triumphantly and Ekon- although his legs had to have been injured from such a fall- did so ferociously. Despite whatever pain he must have been in, Ekon was clearly enjoying the unexpected challenge from an opponent that had been on the back foot the entire time.

Ekon waved his wand in a circular motion overhead and while the quicksand around him didn't disappear- as to overpower another sorcerer's spell would take both time and power- he instead added to the spell and made it even more malleable.

But that wasn't all he did.

The quicksand immediately began to churn in a circular motion, rapidly turning into a whirlpool of muddy earth and taking Ekon along for the ride. Which was good for him, as he just managed to avoid Mason's Body-Bind Curse and gave him a difficult target to hit at the same time.

Harry knew that the Vortex Charm was typically cast on water and air to create whirlpools and tornados and that only the most powerful casters could use it on fire and earth. Ekon was surprising him more and more with each passing second.

Before Mason could even begin to think of a way to accurately hit the rotating boy, Ekon jabbed his wand at the swirling mud he was embedded in and launched an Expulsion Curse right at it. The force of it was so great that it sent him high into the air in a chaotic vertical spin.

Even though his legs were obviously broken, either from the unexpected landing or the self-directed explosion, Ekon managed to right himself in mid-air quickly enough to catch Mason's spell on the tip of his wand and fling it right back at him with startling accuracy. He then healed both his broken legs and softened the patch of earth he landed on all in the space of a few seconds.

And he didn't even pause to catch his breath.

He used the momentum from the fall and the springy earth beneath his feet to launch himself forward. Directly at Mason.

Harry wasn't alone in his surprise. Mason seemed caught off guard by this action too. In his hesitation, Ekon fired two spells at him. The first was a Stunning Spell which got Mason to react, countering with a Stunning Spell of his own. The two red jets of light looked set to collide, but they merely glanced off each other before continuing on their now slightly deviated routes.

Mason dived out of the way before coming up in a roll, while Ekon continued running forward. He casually dipped his head to one side, allowing the Stunning Spell to whizz harmlessly by his ear. He drew his wand back and fired the second spell while Mason was still evading the first.

Harry's eyes widened. He recognised the wand movement of a spell that had been fired at him just a month ago.

It all ended in a flash of blinding white light and a boom of deafening thunder.

Fulminata.

With Mason only just coming out of his roll, there was no time for him to erect some kind of defence, that is if he even managed to catch the change in air pressure at all. The world turned white one second and Mason was blown out of his buckled boots by the next.

Healers rushed into the arena the moment the Barrier was lowered and hurried to the unmoving Mason Calvet, but the cheering spectators paid no attention to that. Their focus and admiration were reserved only for the boy who raised his head to the sky and roared in defiant triumph.

After the duel, Nicolas encouraged Harry to remain seated. They stayed where they were and allowed the thousands of other spectators to leave the stadium before them. He didn't mind, as it allowed him to go over the duel in his mind, over and over again. But when they finally got up and headed down to the arena itself, Harry knew that something was up.

"I want to see an old friend," Nicolas explained as they walked over to Ekon Adebayo's changing room. Before Harry could even ask how he was friends with the now Top 32 Duellist, he rapped his knuckles on the door, and it opened almost immediately.

"I thought I caught a glimpse of you." Nicolas smiled. "How've you been, Eniola?"

Eniola Adebayo. Harry knew that name. She was a retired Auror General and Sage that specialised in Transfiguration.

"Nicolas!" The witch who had opened the door exclaimed. "You should have told me you'd be here!"

Lady Eniola was an elegant woman whose age Harry failed to pin down. She could say that she was anywhere from forty to seventy and he couldn't dispute her. She was of average height and wore a flowing gown of bright turquoise with wide sleeves and a matching head wrap that emphasised her dark skin.

"So you could give me free tickets?" Nicolas asked.

"No, so I could have security refuse you entry." Her words were harsh but delivered in a friendly way. Nicolas' answering smile made it obvious that they were on good terms.

Which was good, as he didn't want to be put in the middle of another decades-long argument as he'd been when they'd visited Lady Mei Wen.

"Who is your young friend?" Eniola asked, finally turning her gaze to Harry.

Nicolas put his hand on his shoulder. "This is my apprentice, Henry Potter." Harry was momentarily taken aback. Nicolas had never introduced him as his apprentice before. Still, he shook Eniola's hand and greeted her politely.

"I should introduce my own apprentice, I suppose." She turned her head, but the door was abruptly opened wider. "Ekon," her tone was reprimanding as he slipped past her. "This is my friend Nicolas Flamel and his apprentice-"

"I heard." Ekon interrupted and turned to regard them. He looked at Nicolas with something akin to respect, even giving him a nod, but when his eyes fell upon Harry, he snorted. "Apprentice," he scoffed, before walking off.

"Ekon!" Eniola snapped at his retreating form, but he didn't even glance back. "You'll have to excuse him. My grandson has grown full of himself." She sighed.

"You don't have to explain a thing," Nicolas reassured. "Remember, no one is more arrogant than me." She gave him a rueful smile before dashing off after her grandson. He then turned to Harry and spoke when they were out of earshot. "No one has ever risen to the position of Magister without first becoming Triwizard Champion."

Harry blinked. "That came out of nowhere."

"It really didn't." Nicolas gestured towards the exit that the Adebayos had disappeared through. "According to my research, there are an uncanny number of prodigies and powerhouses that are due to compete in next year's Tournament. That young man is the very best of them. If you want to be taken seriously as a candidate for Magister, you need to beat him first. Preferably in a competitive setting while the entire world watches."

Harry stared at him. "I want to compete in the Triwizard, but only when it rolls around again in my Seventh Year."

Nicolas shrugged. "If that's what you want? Fine." He smiled challengingly at Harry. "But the youngest person to have ever won was a Sixth Year. This is a chance for you to make your own legend before you even sit for your OWLs."

Harry stared at the exit Ekon had disappeared through and then the arena that he had so terrifically defeated a more experienced opponent in. It seemed to him that the higher he ascended the more he had left to learn. Something about the challenge of that fact left him smiling.

The spark of ambition that had been ignited by watching Eliza Hawthorn duel had now grown into a roaring inferno.