Harry stood in front of the mirror, his fingers clumsily trying to tame the unruly mess that was his hair. He attempted to pull it back, hoping for a more refined look suitable for the Yule Ball, but every strand defiantly resisted his efforts. He then fumbled with the buttons and collar of his black Yule Ball dress, growing increasingly frustrated.
"Why can't hair just come with an instruction manual? Or better yet, a self-styling feature?" he grumbled sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his reflection.
Feeling the weight of anxiety press down on him, Harry realized he needed assistance. The other champions would undoubtedly be preoccupied with their own preparations, but Lucian might be available. The Slytherin was always well-groomed and seemed to have a knack for looking impeccable.
Determined, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and draped it over himself, rendering him invisible to the naked eye. He slipped out of the Gryffindor tower and into the bustling corridors. The castle was alive with the hum of excitement. Students chattered animatedly, many already dressed in their Yule Ball finery, showing off to friends or nervously meeting up with their dates. Laughter, the rustling of robes, and the occasional nervous giggle filled the air.
Under the cloak, Harry felt like a silent observer, weaving his way through the waves of students. He had to dodge a couple who were too engrossed in each other's eyes to notice they were blocking the path, and he narrowly avoided being stepped on by a group of Hufflepuffs who were practicing their dance steps.
As he approached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, he hesitated. He wasn't exactly a welcome guest there. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
The Slytherin common room, nestled deep within the dungeons of Hogwarts, was always a place of whispered secrets and cunning plots. Tonight, however, it was alive with a different kind of energy. The room was awash with the soft, greenish glow from the underwater windows, casting shimmering reflections that danced on the walls. Slytherin students, usually so composed and reserved, were chattering excitedly, their voices echoing off the stone walls. The upcoming Yule Ball had everyone in high spirits.
Harry, draped in his invisibility cloak, slipped through the entrance just as a group of boisterous Slytherin boys made their exit. Their laughter and banter faded into the distance, leaving Harry to navigate the common room's intricate pathways. The serpent motifs on the walls seemed to watch him, their jeweled eyes glittering in the dim light.
As he walked deeper into the dormitories, the soft murmur of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter reached his ears. The plush green and silver decor, so emblematic of Slytherin pride, was a stark contrast to the warm reds and golds of Gryffindor. A pang of jealousy hit him, and he couldn't help but mumble, "Should've listened to that blasted hat in the first year."
Finding Lucian's door took longer than he'd expected. When he finally spotted the familiar nameplate, he knocked softly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Inside, there was a brief pause, the sound of shuffling, and then the door creaked open to reveal a seemingly empty corridor. Lucian's sharp eyes, always alert, darted left and right, trying to catch any sign of the intruder.
Seizing the opportunity for a bit of mischief, Harry reached out from under the cloak to give Lucian's robe a playful tug. But Lucian, ever the vigilant Slytherin, reacted faster than Harry anticipated. Without even turning, his hand shot out, grabbing Harry's wrist in a vice-like grip. The next thing Harry knew, the cold tip of a wand was pressed near his eye, and he could feel Lucian's breath on his face.
"Bloody hell, it's me!" Harry whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and fear.
Lucian's tense posture relaxed almost immediately, and he lowered his wand, a smirk playing on his lips. "Potter," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "you're sneaking into the Slytherin common room so often, you might as well put in a transfer request." The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement
"What brings the chosen one to the serpent's den?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity in his eyes.
Harry, feeling a bit sheepish, admitted, "I could use some help with this suit and my hair." He gestured to his unruly locks and the slightly crumpled suit he was wearing.
Lucian sighed dramatically, muttering, "You're such a brat," under his breath, earning a light elbow jab from Harry.
With a smirk, he ushered Harry inside, leading him to a mirror. Harry's eyes widened as he took in the room, the dark wood, the shelves filled with old, leather-bound books, and the rich, green tapestries. It was like stepping into a world where elegance and intellect intertwined, a true embodiment of dark academia.
"I'm jealous," Harry couldn't help but comment, "Your dorms are much cooler than ours."
Lucian just laughed, a genuine, warm sound, and Harry felt a strange sense of camaraderie with him. Standing in front of the mirror, Harry watched as Lucian, who was taller, started to comb his hair gently. Their reflections were side by side.
"So, are you ready for Fleur?" Harry asked, trying to make small talk.
Lucian snorted, "No one is ever truly ready for a Veela."
"And what about you? Ready for Daphne?" Lucian countered, his eyes meeting Harry's in the mirror.
Harry sighed, "I turn into a bloody fool around her."
Lucian's laughter filled the room, a hearty, infectious sound. "Your hair," he commented as he tied it into a ponytail, strands falling perfectly around his face, "is exceptionally soft and healthy."
He then turned Harry around to fix his suit, his fingers deftly adjusting the tie and smoothing out the wrinkles. "Any tips for the ball?" Harry asked, looking up at Lucian.
Lucian pondered for a moment before responding, "Firstly, remember to lead with confidence, it sets the tone for the dance." He paused, adjusting Harry's collar. "Secondly, maintain eye contact, but don't stare, it's about finding a balance." He smoothed out the suit jacket. "Lastly, enjoy the moment, it's a night to remember, after all."
Lucian stepped back, surveying his work, "That should do it."
Harry, feeling a sense of gratitude, thanked Lucian, "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice a blend of eagerness and apprehension.
Lucian, with a reassuring smile, nodded, "I am, are you?"
"Can we go together when we go to meet our dates?" Harry inquired, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
Lucian, with a gentle pat on Harry's head and a warm smile, responded, "Yes, we can."
Their conversation flowed, filled with light banter and speculations about the ball, until a knock interrupted them. Opening the door revealed Cassius and Adrian, their eyes lighting up at the sight of Harry. Adrian, with a playful pat on Harry's back, joked, "Look who's here, the Slytherin pit! Be careful, you might fall being a lion!" Harry rolled his eyes at the friendly tease.
Curious, Harry asked, "Who are you guys going with?" They grinned, revealing their dates were some Ravenclaw twins. The air was filled with friendly banter and laughter, until Lucian, glancing at the time, declared it was time to leave. He instructed Harry to cloak himself in the spell again, unaware of Harry's actual invisibility cloak. Harry, with a nod, discreetly cloaked himself as they exited the Slytherin common room.
They navigated the corridors swiftly, arriving at the Great Hall entrance.
"You guys go ahead, Harry and I still have to wait for our dates." Lucian suggested to Adrian and Cassius.
"I'm really nervous." Harry, with a sigh, admitted.
Lucian let out a small chuckle. "I have slight jitters too." He confessed.
Harry and Lucian's wait for their dates was a mix of nervous anticipation and quiet camaraderie. They stood in content silence, each lost in their own thoughts, until Lucian's elbow nudged Harry's side sharply.
"What was that for?" Harry whispered, rubbing his side and turning to Lucian, who merely nodded towards the grand staircase. Harry's gaze followed, and his heart seemed to stop for a moment. Descending the stairs were Fleur and Daphne, looking absolutely breathtaking in their dresses. Daphne's eyes locked with Harry's, a smile playing on her lips as she gracefully made her way down the steps.
For a moment, Harry forgot how to breathe. Daphne reached him, raising an eyebrow in amusement at his speechless state. "Hello, Harry," she said, her voice teasing.
Realizing he hadn't even greeted her, Harry's words stumbled out in a rush, his face flushing a deep shade of red. "Hi, Daphne, wow, you look—um, that is—stunning."
Daphne's giggle broke the tension, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're so cute," she said, causing Harry's grin to widen despite his embarrassment. They looped their arms together, a comfortable silence falling between them.
Turning to Lucian, Harry saw him conversing pleasantly with Fleur. They, too, linked arms, ready for the evening ahead. "You look beautiful, Fleur," Harry managed to say, more composed now.
"Thank you, Harry," Fleur responded with a graceful smile, her accent thickening the air with charm.
Their moment of tranquility was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, who approached with a brisk step. Her eyes briefly widened in surprise at the sight of Daphne and Harry together but quickly regained her composure. "The other champions will arrive shortly. Please be ready to make your entrance into the Great Hall," she informed them, her gaze sweeping over the group before she turned and left.
They waited for about five more minutes, during which Harry and Daphne exchanged small talk, the nervous energy slowly dissipating. Then, Cedric arrived with Cho Chang, and Viktor with Susan Bones, each couple looking splendid in their attire. They exchanged greetings and compliments, the atmosphere light and filled with anticipation.
Finally, as a group, they approached the large doors leading to the Great Hall. The moment they had been waiting for had arrived. With a deep breath, Harry, Daphne, Lucian, and Fleur, along with the other champions and their dates, stepped forward, ready to make their grand entrance.
As Harry and Daphne, accompanied by Lucian and Fleur, entered the Great Hall, an almost reverent silence enveloped the room. The magical ceiling above shimmered with a simulation of the night sky, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the gathered crowd. All eyes were on them as they made their way down the middle aisle toward the staff table, the sense of being the center of attention almost palpable.
Harry glanced around, noting the curious and awestruck stares directed mostly towards him and Daphne. Leaning in, he couldn't resist teasing her, "You're so stunning that everyone's staring at you."
Daphne's light snort was filled with humor. "No, they're wondering how Harry Potter managed to snag me as his date," she retorted playfully, her voice low enough for only Harry to hear. Her jest elicited a genuine laugh from him, easing the tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.
Amidst the sea of faces, Harry's eyes briefly locked with Draco Malfoy's, whose scowl and barely concealed fury offered a stark contrast to the celebratory mood around them. Harry couldn't help but smirk, a silent acknowledgment of the momentary upper hand he felt he had.
Upon reaching the staff table, they were warmly greeted by the professors. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he complimented Daphne, "My dear, you look absolutely stunning tonight," to which she responded with a polite "Thank you, Professor." Professor Blackwood, with his characteristic raised eyebrow, remarked to Harry, "I didn't know you had game like that, Potter." Harry's response was a playful scoff, "Hello to you too, Professor," which earned him a quick grin from Blackwood.
Dumbledore then announced the beginning of the ball, starting with the dinner and followed by dancing. The champions and their dates took their seats at a specially arranged table. Lucian, Harry, Fleur, and Daphne made themselves comfortable, engaging in light-hearted small talk, pretending as if they didn't know each other too well.
"So, Fleur, how are you finding the English weather? Cold enough for you?" Lucian joked, eliciting a graceful laugh from Fleur.
"It is quite... refreshing, though I do miss the sun of France," Fleur replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Daphne turned to Harry, a playful glint in her eye. "And Harry, have you prepared your dance moves, or should I brace myself for a night of stepped-on toes?"
Harry chuckled, "I've been practicing, actually. I might just surprise you."
Their laughter and banter filled the air as they began to eat, the atmosphere around them buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Harry turned his attention to Daphne, lowering his voice. "I didn't expect everyone to be looking at us like that."
Daphne's response was swift, tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "Well, we're a bit of an unusual pair, aren't we? A Gryffindor and a Slytherin. And then there's the whole pureblood and half-blood issue. Practically a scandal in pureblood society."
Harry's expression faltered for a moment, the weight of her words settling in. The divide between their worlds seemed suddenly more pronounced.
But Daphne quickly reassured him, her hand finding his under the table. "Don't look so glum, Harry. I don't care about any of that. I'm here with you because I want to be, not because of what society says."
Her words brought a smile back to Harry's face, the warmth in her gaze igniting a sense of contentment and belonging.
Harry and Daphne filled their plates with an assortment of dishes from the lavish feast laid out before them. As they started to eat, their conversation flowed effortlessly, a mix of light-hearted teasing and genuine interest in each other's company. The atmosphere was relaxed, filled with the sound of chatter and laughter from around the Great Hall.
From a nearby table, Professor Blackwood's voice suddenly cut through the din, drawing their attention. "How are you enjoying the evening so far?" he inquired, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Harry, with a smile, replied, "It's going really well, thank you. I'm enjoying it."
Blackwood snorted, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "I wonder how long you'll keep that sentiment, Potter. The dance is about to start," he teased, watching Harry's face drain of color, his confident demeanor momentarily slipping.
The table erupted into gentle giggles at Harry's expense, Blackwood's laughter joining in. Harry shot Daphne a playful scowl, "You're the one who's going to suffer. My dancing might just end up stepping on your toes," he joked, trying to deflect his embarrassment.
Daphne's face mirrored Harry's earlier expression of alarm for a brief moment before she broke into laughter, shaking her head. "You're not that bad, Harry. You've improved a lot," she assured him, her smile warm and encouraging.
Their lighthearted banter was interrupted as Dumbledore stood, his voice carrying across the Great Hall. "I hope everyone has enjoyed the feast. Now, the moment we've all been waiting for—the dance will officially begin. Champions and their dates, please stand and make your way to the center of the hall."
With a mixture of anticipation and nerves, Harry and Daphne, along with the other champions and their dates, rose from their seats and proceeded to the designated dance area. The weight of the moment settled on Harry's shoulders, his earlier confidence faltering under the collective gaze of the entire hall.
Sensing his nervousness, Daphne leaned in, her voice soft yet confident. "You'll do great, Harry. Just follow my lead," she whispered, her reassuring smile bolstering his spirits.
As the music started, a melodious tune that filled the hall with its enchanting rhythm, Harry took a deep breath and focused on Daphne. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, all hesitation faded. Muscle memory and the hours of practice they had put in took over. They moved together in perfect harmony, their steps synchronized as if they were one.
The rest of the hall seemed to fade away, leaving only Harry and Daphne in their own world. The nervousness that had once gripped Harry dissolved into the background, replaced by a sense of exhilaration. The dance was no longer a daunting challenge but a shared experience, an opportunity to connect with Daphne in a way he hadn't thought possible.
Their movements were fluid, their bodies moving together in a dance that felt as natural as breathing. With each step, each turn, Harry found himself more immersed in the moment, the initial worry replaced by a contentment he hadn't expected to find on the dance floor.
As the song drew to a close, applause filled the Great Hall, pulling Harry and Daphne back to reality. They shared a smile, a silent acknowledgment of their shared achievement.
After their successful dance, the champions regrouped, showering each other with praise for their elegant performances. Harry was especially singled out for commendation, his friends and fellow champions impressed by his unexpected mastery of the dance floor. The warmth of their approval buoyed his spirits, casting a light of shared accomplishment among them.
In high spirits, Harry, alongside Daphne, Lucian, and Fleur, made their way to the punch table for a refreshing drink. Their laughter and cheerful banter filled the air, a pleasant bubble amidst the grandeur of the Yule Ball.
This bubble burst when Harry spotted Ron and Hermione approaching, Ron's expression thunderous, Hermione's fraught with reluctance. Harry's mood soured instantly.
"Ron, Hermione," he greeted them coolly, his voice icy.
Ron wasted no time in venting his fury. "Scum," he spat at Harry, his voice dripping with venom. Hermione, beside him, remained silent, her face a mask of misery.
"And what's this? Fraternizing with snake scum?" Ron sneered, eyeing Daphne and Lucian disdainfully.
Harry's retort was swift and sharp. "Better than hanging out with a pig," he shot back, his disdain for Ron's behavior evident.
Ron's face flushed a deep shade of red, his hand moving towards his robe. But before he could even grasp his wand, Harry and Lucian had their own wands pointed menacingly under his chin.
"Do it, Weasley," Lucian dared, his voice low and dangerous. "Give me a reason to blast you across the hall."
Ron, sensing the seriousness of the threat, wisely removed his hand from his robe, his anger replaced by a gulp of fear.
He turned his venom towards Daphne, his words unforgivable. "Slut," he hissed at her.
That was the last straw for Harry. His magical aura burst forth, a crushing wave of pressure aimed solely at Ron. It was so intense that Ron was brought to his knees, gasping for air, the ground beneath him showing the force of Harry's power.
"Not now," Daphne whispered urgently, grabbing Harry's hand. Her intervention was enough to bring him back from the brink.
Realizing the attention their altercation was attracting, Harry quickly contained his aura, allowing Ron to breathe freely again.
"Get out of my sight," Harry ordered coldly, his anger still palpable.
Ron scrambled to his feet and made a hasty retreat from the Great Hall, Hermione following close behind, her glance back filled with a complex mix of emotions.
The confrontation left a tense silence in its wake.
Dumbledore who broke the silence, standing with an air of calm authority that immediately drew the room's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that there will be additional dances this evening," he declared, his eyes briefly meeting Harry's across the room.
In that moment, a silent conversation passed between them. Harry understood; the announcement was Dumbledore's way of shifting the focus away from the earlier altercation, giving the students something positive to concentrate on. He nodded his gratitude, appreciative of the headmaster's tactful intervention.
As if on cue, the Weird Sisters took the stage, their first chords blasting through the air, reigniting the energy in the room. The music was lively and upbeat, a stark contrast to the earlier formal dances.
Turning to Daphne, Harry couldn't resist the opportunity. "Care to dance again?" he asked, a playful challenge in his eyes.
Daphne looked taken aback, her gaze flickering towards the band. "You're asking me to dance to this?" she questioned, disbelief mingling with mortification. "I only know how to dance to slow, cultured music."
Harry's laughter was light, infectious. "There's a first time for everything," he countered. "You made me learn slow dancing, so it's only fair I show you how to dance to something a bit more... spirited."
She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And how, pray tell, do you know how to dance to this... upbeat music?"
With a roll of his eyes, Harry offered a simple explanation. "I grew up with Muggles. This is the kind of music they played at school dances." He extended his hand towards her, an unspoken invitation. His smile was encouraging, gentle yet persuasive.
Daphne hesitated, clearly out of her element, but there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes. With a resigned sigh, she placed her hand in his. "Lead the way, then," she acquiesced, a mix of apprehension and excitement in her voice.
Harry glanced over at Fleur and Lucian, seeking to broaden their party. "You two in?"
Both demurred, citing the music's rowdy nature as a bit too much for their tastes. "It's too rowdy and berserk for us," Lucian admitted, Fleur nodding in agreement.
With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Harry led Daphne to the dance floor, the pulsing rhythm of the music setting the tempo for their movements. Initially, Daphne was awkward, unsure of how to move to the fast-paced beat. But under Harry's lead, she began to find her rhythm, the music guiding her steps.
As they danced, any initial hesitance faded away, replaced by laughter and the sheer joy of the moment. Daphne quickly adapted, her movements becoming more fluid, more confident. The duo was soon lost in the music, their earlier concerns forgotten as they embraced the fun and freedom of the dance.
After a series of energetic dances that left them both breathless and exhilarated, Harry and Daphne agreed it was time for a break. They glanced around the Great Hall, searching for the other champions but found no sign of them amidst the throng of dancing students. Shrugging off their disappearance, they moved towards the punch table, refilling their cups with juice, seeking a moment of calm amid the evening's excitement.
With refreshed drinks in hand, they shared a look, a mutual understanding passing between them. The castle, with all its mysteries and charm, beckoned them to explore. Harry, ever the thoughtful companion, cast a subtle Notice-Me-Not charm, allowing them to slip away unnoticed, hand-in-hand, into the cool night air of the courtyard.
The courtyard was a peaceful haven compared to the bustling energy of the Great Hall. They took a moment to breathe in the fresh, crisp air, a welcome respite from the heat of the dance floor. Daphne broke the silence first, her voice soft and sincere. "Tonight has been wonderful, Harry. You've been a very good date."
Harry's response was a warm smile, his eyes meeting hers in the moonlight. "I'm glad you had a good time. I did too," he assured her, the simplicity of the moment between them more profound than any words could express.
They decided to meander around the courtyard, admiring the flowers that bloomed even in the chill of the evening, their colors muted but still vibrant under the moon's glow. It was a peaceful interlude, a chance to enjoy each other's company away from the eyes of the rest of the school.
Their tranquility was abruptly shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps. Instinctively, Harry and Daphne ducked into the nearest bush, their breaths held in suspense. Peering out, they saw the Durmstrang headmaster and Professor Snape approaching, deeply engrossed in a heated argument.
The scene before them was tense, the Durmstrang headmaster lifting his sleeve to reveal something to Snape. The color drained from Snape's face at the sight, his usual composure slipping momentarily. Though Harry strained to hear, Snape's response was inaudible, his voice too low and the words lost in the distance.
Just then, Daphne accidentally made a small noise beside him, drawing Snape's sharp gaze towards their hiding spot. For a moment, Harry was sure they were caught, but Snape said nothing, his gaze lingering ominously before he and the headmaster continued on their way.
Once the coast was clear, Harry and Daphne cautiously emerged from their hiding place. Daphne's confusion mirrored Harry's own. "What was that about?" she whispered, her curiosity piqued.
Harry could only shake his head, equally baffled. "I don't know," he admitted
Harry and Daphne made their way back to the Great Hall, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridors. As they entered, the sounds of chatter and laughter greeted them, the hall now a stark contrast to the quiet courtyard they had just left.
They found their friends gathered at one of the tables, recounting their own adventures from the night. Cedric and Cho were laughing about a particularly clumsy dance move, Viktor and Susan were deep in conversation, and Fleur and Lucian were sharing a plate of desserts.
Joining them, Harry and Daphne added their own stories to the mix, sharing tales of their exploration of the castle grounds and the unexpected encounter with Snape and the Durmstrang headmaster.
As the evening wore on, Dumbledore stood up and addressed the students.
"Attention, the night has come to an end and so must this ball. I hope everyone enjoyed tonight, but is time to start making your way back to your Common Rooms. Thank you."
There was a chorus of disappointed murmurs, but the students began to file out of the Great Hall, bidding each other goodnight.
Harry and Daphne said their farewells to the other champions and their dates before setting off towards the Slytherin common room. They walked arm in arm, enjoying the peacefulness of the castle at night.
When they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, they stopped. Harry looked at Daphne, a sense of reluctance creeping over him. "Well, this is it," he said, his voice tinged with regret.
Daphne smiled at him, her eyes shining in the dim light. "I really enjoyed tonight," she said softly.
Harry nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. "I did too," he replied, unable to tear his gaze away from her.
There was a moment of silence between them, the air thick with unspoken words. And then, without hesitation, Daphne leaned in and kissed him. Harry's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly closed them, losing himself in the moment.
A spark of excitement shot through their bodies as they pulled away, their eyes meeting in silent understanding. Daphne gave him another smile before bidding him farewell and disappearing into the common room.
Harry stood there, a stupid grin on his face, replaying the kiss in his mind. He felt a rush of happiness unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
After a moment, Harry decided to head back to his own common room. He took a rather obscure secret passage, wanting to avoid the other students.
As Harry made his way through the dark and secret corridor, he felt a sense of unease creep over him. The clunking sound and whispers grew louder, prompting him to cloak himself in an invisibility spell to avoid any unwanted encounters. Suddenly, both the whispers and the noise stopped, causing Harry to pause.
He sensed a presence around him, though he couldn't see anything. Then, he felt a surge of magic behind him, the kind that comes from a spell being cast. Reacting swiftly, Harry ducked to the side and pointed his wand in the direction of the spell, dropping his own invisibility spell and demanding the person to reveal themselves.
To his surprise, Professor Moody's figure materialized in front of him, chuckling. "Good reflexes, Potter," Moody praised, his magical eye whirring and clicking as he looked at Harry. Harry, still on guard, lowered his wand slightly, recognizing Moody's tendency to test students in unconventional ways. "What are you doing here, Professor?" Harry asked, his heart still racing from the adrenaline of the moment.
Moody explained that he was just heading back to his own quarters when he spotted Harry with his magical eyeball. Harry nodded, understanding the situation. Curiosity piqued, Moody then asked Harry what he was doing in the corridor. Harry hesitated for a moment before explaining that he was making his way back to his common room.
Moody looked thoughtful for a moment before gesturing for Harry to follow him. Intrigued, Harry followed the professor as they made their way to Moody's classroom, wondering what Moody had in store for him.
Moody led Harry into his classroom, the dim light casting long shadows across the walls. Harry followed, his mind still reeling from the encounter in the corridor.
"Sit down, Potter," Moody said, gesturing to a chair in the center of the room. Harry obeyed, sitting on the edge of the seat, his eyes fixed on Moody.
Moody began to pace back and forth in front of Harry, his magical eye whirring and clicking as he looked at him. "Tell me, Potter, how is preparation for the second task coming along?" Moody asked, his voice gruff.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not too well, Professor. I've kind of been stuck trying to figure out what the message in the egg is." Harry replied
Moody nodded. "Try opening the egg underwater." Moody told him. Harry just nodded.
"how is your training coming along?" Moody asked.
Harry raised a single eyebrow. "It's going good, Professor. If i may ask, how did you know i was receiving training?"
"Saw you and Blackwood training once and figured you'd been getting extra lessons." He grunted. Harry nodded in acknowledgement
Moody's expression grew serious again. "Now, tell me, Potter, how do you feel about the Dark Arts?"
Harry frowned. "I don't... I don't hate them, Professor. I think they're just another form of magic. I want to learn all kinds of magic, not just the ones that are considered 'good'," Harry replied, hoping he wasn't saying the wrong thing.
Moody nodded, seemingly approving of Harry's answer. "Good, good. A balanced view is always wise," Moody said, pacing again.
Then, Moody's tone changed, becoming more intense. "And what about the Dark Lord, Potter? How do you feel about him?"
Harry hesitated, wondering why Moody was asking this question. He was growing more and more weary. "I... I don't fear him, Professor. I think he's a fraud, hiding behind his followers and his dark magic. He's nothing compared to the real power. Like Dumbledore's, or even Blackwood's." Harry said, his voice firm.
Moody's eye narrowed, and Harry sensed a shift in the air, a darkness creeping into the room. Before he could react, he felt a sharp pressure in his mind, like a claw trying to pry open his thoughts.
Instinctively, Harry raised his mental defenses, pushing back against the intrusion. The pressure ceased, and Moody's eye widened in surprise.
"What the hell are you doing, Professor?" Harry demanded
"How dare you insult the Dark Lord!" Moody snarled. Before Harry could do anything, Moody whipped out his wand and pointed it at him.
"Aveda Kedavra!" He Shouted.
At this close of a range, coupled with the fact he caught off guard, Harry could do nothing but watch helplessly as the spell hit him square in the chest and he was launched back. He hit the wall and slumped forward. Dead.
Haha well im guessing you thought this story was dead.
Honestly i've just been dealing with a lot in these past few months with my mental health and severe burnout and i didn't have the energy to write. I recently got back into it as a suggestion from my girlfriend after she read the story and liked it.
I kinda rushed the end so my apologies for that but i wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible. (which will be soon)
Also im starting a soon for anyone that wants updates quicker if they like this story so yeah, be on the look out for that.
This chapter was written over the span of 5 months so my apologies if there are inconsistences in the writing.
Bye for Now!