Chapter 55 – The Game is Afoot
Just after lunch, the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of cutlery had faded into the quieter ambience of their shared suite. Rigel stood by the window, watching the gentle drizzle patter against the glass, a thoughtful frown etching his brow. Daphne closed the door with a soft click, her gaze lingering on Rigel's distant expression.
Rigel turned from the window and crossed the room in a few strides, picking up the enchanted mirror that lay atop an ancient, ornately carved desk. Holding it with both hands, he called out clearly, "Tonks!"
The surface of the mirror shimmered like a pond disturbed by a gentle breeze, and soon, the face of Nymphadora Tonks, vibrant and cheerful with her signature bubblegum pink hair, appeared. Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she greeted him, "If it isn't my favourite cousin - what can I do for you?"
"I've got the memory vial ready for you," Rigel said, his voice carrying the subtle undercurrent of urgency that always seemed to accompany his plans. "Can you swing by after dinner today?"
Tonks' smile broadened, her face alight with the thrill of the mission. "Absolutely, I'm itching to get started."
Rigel couldn't help but return her smile with one of his own, pride flickering in his deep blue eyes. "I know you'll handle it well, Tonks. We'll discuss the details later tonight in my suite. I've also come across some new information."
"All right, see ya then!" Tonks chirped, and with a casual wave, the connection cut, leaving the mirror's surface smooth and empty once more.
Daphne, who had been watching the exchange quietly, spoke up, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and admiration, "Do you think Tonks will be able to track down the cup?"
Rigel's confidence didn't waver. "She's more than capable. Her metamorphmagus abilities are perfect for coaxing information out of anyone. Even if all she finds out is the number of remaining Horcruxes, it'll be a huge step forward."
Daphne nodded, her own expression softening into one of agreement. "You're right."
"Now, I must head to my next lesson. Dad is probably already waiting," Rigel said, glancing at the ornate clock ticking away on the mantelpiece. "What's your next class?"
"Triple Defence Against the Dark Arts, I will spend the rest of the day with Remus" Daphne replied, gathering her books.
Rigel stepped closer, and on impulse, kissed her briefly. Once they parted, they began heading towards their respective classes, their steps echoing slightly in the quiet corridor.
Daphne slipped through the heavy wooden door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, the hinges whispering softly as the room welcomed her in. She was barely a few steps inside when Harry approached, his green eyes scanning the room cautiously before he leaned in close. His voice was barely audible, a cautious whisper meant for her ears alone. "Daphne, I saw Malfoy entering the Room of Requirement while we were coming here. You should tell Rigel."
Daphne's brow furrowed in concern, nodding slightly to Harry. Her mind buzzed with questions. 'What was Malfoy doing there? How had he even learned about the Room of Requirement?' The possibilities were troubling.
Before she could ponder further, the classroom door swung open, and Professor Remus Lupin entered. The room instantly quieted, every student's attention turning towards him. Lupin's presence was always a comforting one, his knowledge deep and his method engaging. As he began the day's lesson focused on combating Dark wizards—a curriculum intensified by Dumbledore's emphasis at the start of term—Daphne found herself drawn into the world of defensive magic, though part of her mind remained on Malfoy's mysterious actions.
The lesson passed in a blur of spells and counter-curses, Lupin guiding them through intricate duelling tactics. When the bell finally rang, signalling the end of the class, Daphne felt the tug of the bond she shared with Rigel. His voice echoed in her mind, his tone calm yet carrying an urgency that belied his words.
"We'll have dinner in our suite tonight, Tonks will be giving her report to Dumbledore soon, and she will drop by later."
Through their bond, she replied, taking the opportunity to relay what Harry had told her. "Understood. Also, Harry saw Malfoy entering the Room of Requirement. We need to discuss this."
She could feel Rigel's concern spike through their connection, his emotions mirroring her own. "That is very concerning," he responded. "We need to figure out what he is plotting before he can act on it."
"Agreed, but let's talk face-to-face. I'll be there in a couple of minutes," Daphne replied, her steps quickening as she made her way out of the classroom.
"I love you," Rigel's voice came through the bond, soft yet firm, a reminder of the strength they drew from each other.
"I love you too," she whispered back, a small smile touching her lips despite the swirl of worries in her mind. With a renewed sense of purpose, she hastened her steps towards their suite.
As Daphne stepped into their suite, the familiar scent of dinner filled the air, expertly prepared by Kreacher. The old house-elf nodded his greeting and disappeared with a soft pop, leaving them to their privacy. Rigel was already waiting for her, and as she entered, he enveloped her in a warm embrace that seemed to melt away some of the tension she had carried from class.
They sat down together, the table set with an array of dishes that reflected Kreacher's impeccable culinary skills. As they began to eat, Daphne couldn't keep her thoughts from drifting back to Draco Malfoy's unsettling activity.
"What could Draco possibly be doing in the Room of Requirement?" she asked, her fork pausing mid-air.
Rigel chewed thoughtfully, his gaze distant. "Honestly, I have no clue. Draco doesn't strike me as the type to train there. But two things are more intriguing: how did he learn about the room, and is this a frequent activity or just a one-off?"
Daphne nodded, her mind racing with possibilities. "Perhaps we could ask Harry to keep an eye on Draco using the Marauder's Map?"
"That could work," Rigel agreed, though his tone suggested he was considering a more reliable approach. He reached over to the small device on the mantelpiece and activated the MystiFrame. Instantly, the frame displayed an image of Madam Bones in her office, diligently reviewing some documents.
Rigel explained further as he adjusted the frame's settings, "We could place a MystiLens in the corridor to survey the entrance to the Room of Requirement. This frame can connect to multiple lenses, and we can switch between views as needed."
"That sounds like a great idea," Daphne said, her mind already turning over the logistics. "Perhaps we should also ask Harry to place a MystiLens in Dumbledore's office to keep tabs on him as well."
Rigel shook his head, setting down his fork. "That won't work," he said firmly.
"Why not?" Daphne looked puzzled, concern knitting her brows.
"For two reasons," Rigel began, his expression serious. "First, while Madam Bones is a powerful witch, she's not on Dumbledore's level—not even close. She might not detect the minor magical presence of a MystiLens, but Dumbledore certainly could, especially if it lingered around him for too long. And second," he sighed, a slight frown marring his features, "Harry would never agree to help us spy on anyone, let alone Dumbledore."
Daphne's eyes widened with realisation. Of course, Rigel was right. Harry's steadfast morals wouldn't allow it, and the risks of meddling so close to Dumbledore were too great. She nodded slowly, taking a moment to regroup her thoughts. "Then we'll proceed with the MystiLens outside the Room of Requirement. It's our best shot at understanding what Malfoy is up to without overstepping."
Rigel smiled, relieved by her quick acceptance of his reasoning. "We'll need to stay vigilant," he said, reaching for her hand across the table. "But together, there's nothing we can't handle."
Daphne squeezed his hand, her resolve firming. "Together," she echoed, her heart warmed by the solidarity between them. As they resumed their dinner, the weight of their responsibilities lingered, but so did the unspoken reassurance of their united front.
A soft knock on the door interrupted their discussion. Instantly, Rigel reached over to turn off the MystiFrame, erasing the image of Madam Bones from sight. He called out cautiously, "Who's there?"
From the other side of the door, Tonks' distinctive voice chirped through, tinged with her usual jovial tone, "It's your favourite cousin!"
Rigel's lips curled into a smile at her familiar banter. "Come in, Tonks," he invited warmly.
The door swung open, and Tonks stepped in, her hair today a shade of vibrant teal that seemed to light up the room. She greeted them with a bright smile, though her eyes quickly took in the scene of their private dinner. "Sorry for interrupting," she said, though her tone suggested she was anything but sorry, always enjoying the casual familiarity between them.
"You're not interrupting at all," Daphne reassured her, waving a hand dismissively. "We were expecting you. That's why we're having dinner here instead of the Great Hall."
Nodding in understanding, Tonks approached the table, her gaze shifting to Rigel as he stood to retrieve something from the sideboard. He returned with a small, clear vial containing a swirling silver substance—memories. Handing it to her, he explained, "These are all the memories we've collected about the Horcruxes we've dealt with so far. Dumbledore has given us a lead on another—Hufflepuff's cup. You'll understand better once you see the memories."
Tonks took the vial carefully, holding it up to the light as if gauging the weight of the task ahead. "I'll use my free time to study these, and then begin my search during the winter break," she confirmed with a nod, her expression turning serious as she pocketed the vial.
"I know you will do well," Rigel said with confidence, his voice firm. "The cup is the most concrete lead we have on a Horcrux yet. Perhaps what you find will also shed more light on the remaining ones."
"Count on it," Tonks replied with a grin, her usual effervescence returning. "I'll leave you two to your dinner then. I'll stay in touch and let you know as soon as I have something."
They exchanged goodbyes, and with a final cheerful wave, Tonks exited the suite, leaving Rigel and Daphne alone once again. They both sat back down, a sense of purpose renewed in the wake of the plans they were setting into motion. Each move they made was a step closer to unravelling the dark tapestry Voldemort had woven, and with Tonks on their side, they felt just a bit more prepared to face what lay ahead.
~~~o~~~
A few days after their conversation about Draco Malfoy and the Room of Requirement, Harry found himself once again at the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. The last slivers of daylight cast long shadows across the corridor, giving the gargoyle an even more imposing appearance. Harry paused in front of it, uncertain of the password but determined to see the Headmaster.
"Dumbledore said I could always come by," Harry told the gargoyle, hoping the simple truth would suffice.
To his surprise, the gargoyle stirred, its stone features grinding as it moved aside, revealing the spiralling staircase leading up to the office. Harry's heart thumped a little harder in his chest—not just from the unexpected entry but from a mixture of anticipation and wariness. He knew Dumbledore's penchant for meddling and manipulations all too well, yet he also hoped to glean more information about Voldemort and his Horcruxes, which could prove crucial.
Ascending the staircase, Harry entered the spacious, circular office. The walls were lined with portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses, all pretending to be asleep or busied with other tasks. Dumbledore, however, was very much awake, seated behind his desk cluttered with papers and various magical instruments.
"Ah, Harry! My boy, come in, come in," Dumbledore greeted him with a wide, genuine smile, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Hello, Professor," Harry replied, managing a smile that he hoped mirrored Dumbledore's warmth, though he remained guarded inside.
"I'm here about the lessons you offered," Harry began, finding a sense of purpose in getting straight to the point.
"That is wonderful news indeed!" Dumbledore exclaimed, his hands clasped together as if Harry had just made his day. "I shall begin preparations at once."
Then, almost as an afterthought, Dumbledore added, "I had thought, perhaps, you wouldn't return for them, considering Rigel's reservations about you being too close to me."
Harry's smile faltered for a moment, and he let out an awkward laugh, trying to navigate the conversation away from any underlying tensions or suspicions he and Rigel might have about Dumbledore's intentions. "Oh, you know how it is," Harry said, keeping his tone light.
Dumbledore simply smiled, a knowing look in his eyes that made Harry unsure whether the Headmaster believed his casual dismissal.
"I will contact you once I've arranged a suitable schedule that accommodates your Quidditch training, Prefect duties, and your other meetings," Dumbledore said, his voice still friendly but with a slight emphasis on "other meetings" that didn't escape Harry's notice.
Harry nodded, deciding it was best to play along. "Thank you, Professor. I appreciate you making time for this, and I can't wait to get started."
They exchanged goodbyes, and as Harry turned to leave, he couldn't help but wish things were different. If only the relationship between Dumbledore and his group, particularly Rigel, wasn't so fraught with unspoken doubts and subtle strategising. As he descended the spiral staircase, the weight of their complex, chess-like interactions weighed heavily on him, mingling with his own resolve to uncover the truths that might still be hidden from him.
~~~o~~~
Just a couple of days after his meeting with Dumbledore, Harry received a meticulously planned schedule from the headmaster. As Harry reviewed the times, he couldn't help but notice that Dumbledore had carefully avoided overlapping with Harry's Quidditch training—a schedule he had submitted to Professor McGonagall as part of his Captain duties. More unsettling was the realisation that the sessions also didn't conflict with the less formal, secret meetings he held with Rigel and others. Harry doubted it was mere coincidence.
Concerned, Harry decided to discuss this with Daphne and Rigel. He made his way to their suite, a place that had become a common ground for such discussions.
Once there, Harry laid out his thoughts and concerns about the schedule Dumbledore had crafted. "It's like he knows exactly when I'm free," Harry said, a hint of worry threading his voice.
Daphne nodded, her expression serious. "It isn't unlikely that Dumbledore knows about our meetings. He is the headmaster, after all. House elves, ghosts, and even the paintings—they all report to him and could very well spy for him," she explained, her tone suggesting this was a well-accepted fact among the more secretive circles at Hogwarts.
Rigel chimed in, his tone contemplative. "We might need to be more mindful of this in the future. While Dumbledore knowing about our meetings isn't the worst thing, if he knew what we were discussing... that would be another story entirely."
Harry, thinking through their hidden meeting spots, added, "There aren't any paintings in here or in the Room of Requirement, though."
Daphne's response was tinged with bitterness. "That must be why Dumbledore had placed a listening charm here."
The suggestion made Harry's stomach churn. "You think he's placed one in the Room of Requirement as well?"
Rigel's face tightened, as if he wanted to say more but chose to hold back. Instead, Daphne suggested, "Next time we're there, we should check the room for listening charms." She paused before switching topics, "Speaking of the Room of Requirement, has Malfoy entered it again?"
"Not to my knowledge," Harry replied.
"Could you check on Malfoy from time to time with the Marauder's Map? He's up to something, and we should find out what," Daphne asked, her tone reflecting the gravity of their situation.
Harry nodded. "I will." Grateful for their insights and support, he added, "Thanks for this. I really appreciate it."
Rigel's response was immediate and reassuring. "You're always welcome here, Harry. We always have time for you."
With a slight nod, Harry left their suite, feeling a mix of reassurance and unease.
As soon as the door closed behind Harry, Daphne couldn't help but burst out laughing, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She leaned against the back of the couch, watching Rigel's expression, which still bore the remnants of restraint.
"Your face, Rigel!" she chuckled, teasingly. "When Harry mentioned listening charms in the Room of Requirement, I could practically see the cogs turning in your head, desperate to share your extensive wisdom—that the Room can't be put under surveillance, because you've already tried."
Rigel shot her a playful pout, feigning annoyance. "Oh, quit your laughing and teasing, will you?"
Daphne's laughter softened into a smile as she looked at him fondly. "But you look so cute when you pout," she cooed, making him roll his eyes in mock frustration.
Choosing to move past the teasing, Rigel turned his attention to the MystiFrame. With a focused expression, he activated the device and switched it to the MystiLens stationed in front of the Room of Requirement. A wave of his hand set the footage to rewind at ten times the normal speed, his eyes scanning quickly for any sign of Malfoy.
After a moment, he paused the frame, pointing at the screen where Malfoy was visible. "There," he said, his tone turning serious. "It seems Malfoy is using the Room quite frequently."
He resumed the playback, and they watched as Malfoy carefully checked over his shoulder multiple times, ensuring no one was watching him. He then walked back and forth along the corridor three times, the door to the Room of Requirement appearing as he slipped inside swiftly.
Daphne leaned forward, her gaze intent on the screen. "We need to find out what he's doing in there," she said thoughtfully. "Did you see how anxious he looked? He's definitely hiding something."
Rigel nodded, his mind already formulating a plan. "I agree. I have an idea, but I think we should wait until after the Winter Break to execute it. It'll give us time to prepare properly and gather any additional information we might need."
Daphne, who had read his thoughts, smiled as she caught on to his plan. Not only would they uncover Malfoy's secrets, but it would also give her a chance to even some scores. "That sounds perfect," she replied, her smile turning sly. "And it'll be a good opportunity to give Malfoy a bit of payback for the way he's treated Astoria."
Rigel returned her smile with a nod of approval, pleased with their strategy. "Exactly. Let's make sure we're thorough. If Malfoy is up to something, we'll find out what it is—and ensure he learns not to mess with those we care about."
~~~o~~~
Several more days had passed, and Harry found himself once again ascending the spiralling staircase to Dumbledore's office for another lesson. The air around him felt thick with anticipation and a hint of foreboding as he contemplated what new revelations awaited him today.
As with the previous session, Dumbledore led Harry through a series of memories stored in the Pensieve, each one revealing more about Voldemort's dark past. Today's focus was particularly on Voldemort's origins—his birth and lineage.
Harry leaned over the swirling silver contents of the Pensieve, watching as scenes from Voldemort's past played out before him. The first shock came when he learned of Voldemort's direct relation to Salazar Slytherin. The encounter in the Chamber of Secrets suddenly clicked into place, making Harry shiver with the realisation of how deep Voldemort's connections to Hogwarts truly went.
More startling, however, was the revelation that Voldemort's mother, Merope Gaunt, had used a love potion to ensnare Tom Riddle Senior, a Muggle. The implications of this made Harry's stomach churn—not only because of the dark magic involved but also because of the eerie similarities between his own upbringing and Voldemort's. Both were orphans, both grew up unloved, yet their paths could not have been more different.
As they delved deeper into the Gaunt family's history, Harry noticed a recurring ring in the memories—a simple yet peculiar piece that seemed to stand out. A family heirloom, perhaps? The idea struck Harry suddenly: could Voldemort, obsessed as he was with his heritage, have turned something so significant into a Horcrux?
When the session ended, Harry lingered, his mind racing with questions and theories. "Professor," he started, hesitant yet needing to know, "will we be doing some combat training as well? If I'm to face Voldemort, I need to be prepared."
Dumbledore met Harry's gaze with a sombre nod. "We will, in time, Harry. It is crucial, however, that you first understand the man you are up against. It is often in understanding our enemies that we find ways to defeat them. Perhaps you will come to conclusions even I have missed."
Harry nodded, though the urgency he felt made him restless. "I understand, sir, but I can't help feeling like we don't have much time to be so leisurely with these lessons."
Dumbledore's smile was gentle, yet there was a firmness in his eyes that conveyed the gravity with which he took their situation. "I assure you, Harry, I am not being leisurely, and I am indeed taking these lessons very seriously. But it is also important not to overdo it. Too much too soon could be just as detrimental as too little."
With that, he dismissed Harry, who left the office filled with a mix of newfound knowledge and frustration. As Harry walked back down the spiralling staircase, his mind worked over the information he'd acquired, the weight of his destiny ever present. He appreciated Dumbledore's methodical approach, yet he couldn't shake the feeling of racing against time. Each step he took felt like a step towards an inevitable confrontation, and he could only hope that when the time came, he would be ready.
~~~o~~~
The winter weeks swept past Hogwarts with a flurry of activity, not all of it dark and dire. For once, there was good news to share, and it came courtesy of Fred and George Weasley—or rather, Ruckus and Tumult as they were known in their Order of the Black Cat codenames. The twins had thwarted a planned Death Eater attack in Diagon Alley, a plot aimed at sowing chaos and fear by torching a bustling part of the wizarding market.
The information about the attack had travelled through a precarious chain: from Snape, who remained deep undercover, to the Order of the Phoenix, and finally to Tonks, who then passed it along to Rigel. Acting swiftly, the twins set up a series of ingenious traps that not only halted the Death Eaters in their tracks but also did so with the twins' characteristic flair for dramatics and mischief.
Their mission was a resounding success, save for one unforeseen consequence—the public caught wind of their actions. News spread quickly, and soon it was widely known that a vigilante group was actively working against the Death Eaters. While the general public reaction was one of support and gratitude, the official stance of the Ministry of Magic was staunchly against vigilantism, complicating the political landscape for those fighting in the shadows.
However, Rigel, ever the strategist, ensured that Madam Bones did not allocate any significant resources to investigate this new group of vigilantes. With a few well-placed words and manoeuvres, he managed to keep the heat off them, allowing their undercover efforts to continue unimpeded.
Then, as the term drew to a close, it was finally time for the Winter Break. The Hogwarts Express buzzed with the usual excitement and chatter as students prepared for the holidays. This year, however, there was a notable absence in the festive air—the Yule Ball had been canceled due to the rising tensions within Wizarding Britain. The cancellation was a stark reminder of the growing darkness in the wizarding world, casting a shadow over the students' spirits.
Among the throngs of students, Ginny Weasley appeared unusually nervous. The cancellation of the Yule Ball meant more time spent at home, where she would have to face her mother's wrath over her new relationship with Astoria. The thought of confronting Mrs. Weasley's inevitable disapproval made her stomach churn. Fortunately, her brothers, always ready to defend one of their own, would be home as well, promising a lively family gathering at the Burrow. Fred and George, in particular, had assured her that they would stand by her side, turning the looming confrontation into a manageable hurdle.
The train ride was largely uneventful, except for the predictable appearance of Draco Malfoy, who sauntered into their compartment to deliver his usual taunts and threats. His visit was brief, as his words no longer held the power they once might have, and he left amidst a flurry of eye-rolls and dismissive comments from the group.
After Malfoy had departed, Harry turned to Rigel, a serious expression clouding his features. "Rigel, could we train one-on-one over the break? I'm really worried I'm not ready to face Voldemort," he confessed, his voice low.
Rigel looked at him, a smile breaking over his face, warm and reassuring. "Of course, Harry," he replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "We'll train together. We'll make sure you're prepared."
That promise lifted some of the weight from Harry's shoulders as he looked out of the train window at the passing scenery. The assurance of having Rigel by his side bolstered his spirits. As the train steamed closer to London, Harry felt a renewed sense of purpose; this break would be a crucial one, a time not just for family and festivities, but for preparation and training. The battle was drawing ever closer, and he needed to be ready.
As the Hogwarts Express pulled into the bustling Kings Cross Station, the flurry of greetings and farewells began in earnest. Families and friends gathered, filling the platform with noise and activity, a stark contrast to the quiet hum of the approaching winter holiday.
Neville was the first to depart, his grandmother's stern figure cutting through the crowd with practised ease. She enveloped him in a tight hug, her stern expression softening just a touch at the edges. Hermione was next, her parents rushing forward with open arms, pulling her into a warm, protective embrace as they chatted animatedly about their plans for the holidays.
Amidst the departures, Luna spoke up, her dreamy voice carrying lightly over the din. "Ginny, your parents and brothers are coming," she said, nodding toward the approaching figures of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, with Fred and George trailing behind, mischief already twinkling in their eyes.
Ginny, defiant and unyielding in the face of her mother's imminent lecture, caught Astoria by the hand and pulled her into a deep, passionate goodbye kiss. The act was bold and visible, making a statement that Ginny was not to be cowed.
Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard shrieking, "Ginerva Molly Weasley, stop that at once!" as she hastened her steps, her face a blossoming red. Behind her, Fred and George chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, while Mr. Weasley tried to mask his amusement with a more serious demeanour, knowing full well the gaze of his wife might soon fall on him.
Ginny broke the kiss, leaving an utterly flustered Astoria behind. She gave a quick hug to Luna, promised to write, and then walked off with her family, her mother's scolding ringing in her ears as they disappeared into the crowd.
Watching the scene, Daphne couldn't help but laugh. "She really is a feisty one," she remarked, amusement sparkling in her eyes.
Sirius and Remus chuckled in agreement, both well accustomed to the fiery spirits of the Weasleys.
Not to be outdone by Ginny's dramatic display, Tracey, whose parents had just arrived, pulled Harry into a similarly deep and passionate kiss. Unlike Mrs. Weasley, Tracey's parents did not scream or scold; Mrs. Davis actually wore a smile, and once the kiss ended, she extended an invitation to Harry. "Why don't you spend Christmas with us, Harry? It's usually Tracey who spends time away from home."
Harry glanced over at Sirius, silently asking for permission. Sirius just laughed heartily and said, "Go for it, Harry."
With a small nod, Harry accepted Mrs. Davis's offer, his heart light but his gaze lingering on Tracey as she and her parents walked away after their goodbyes.
As the last of the students made their goodbyes, Luna's father appeared on the bustling platform to pick her up. Luna wrapped Astoria in a tight hug, her voice gentle and earnest. "Even though I'm not Ginny, I'll come visit during the break."
Astoria, blushing slightly but smiling widely, chuckled in response. "You don't need to be Ginny to come and visit."
Luna's smile broadened, and with a final wave, she disappeared with her father, leaving a small trace of her whimsical presence behind.
Sirius, glancing around the now almost empty platform, clapped his hands together. "Well, that's all of them. Time for us to go home," he announced, guiding the group towards the floo station for their return to Black Castle.
Rigel stepped into the green flames first, followed by Daphne, then Astoria, and Harry. Remus and Sirius were the last to depart, ensuring everyone had safely transitioned before themselves stepping into the swirling green fire.
Back at Black Castle, Rigel leaned close to Daphne, whispering something that made her smile knowingly. He then turned to Harry with a determined look. "Since you'll be leaving soon to be with your sweetheart, we should get some training in now. Let's head to the training room," he suggested.
Harry, recognising the urgency in Rigel's tone, agreed without hesitation. Together, they made their way to the training room, a well-equipped space designed for magical combat practice.
Once there, Rigel began with a serious tone, "I've been watching you, especially in duelling class. In terms of magical power, you are now definitively stronger than me, Harry, and by no small amount. However, power alone won't win you a battle."
Harry nodded, understanding the gravity of Rigel's observations. "So, speed and precision are also important," he ventured, thinking about the usual components of successful duelling.
Rigel shook his head slightly. "While you aren't wrong, that isn't what I want you to focus on. Your biggest weakness by far is your creativity with spells. You have very little variety, and you're too predictable in combat." He paused, letting his words sink in. "You have an affinity for fire, yet all you ever do is create walls or tendrils of flame. Fire is much more versatile than you're currently using it."
As Harry digested Rigel's critique about his predictable use of spells, he felt a conflicting tug of deflation and motivation. The drive to improve was there, but he wasn't sure where to begin. Sensing this, Rigel offered a strategy, "When you're at Tracey's place, I want you two to tackle this challenge together."
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise, prompting Rigel to continue, "Tracey has a wonderfully creative mind, which I'm sure you've noticed during your bedroom escapades." He gave Harry a knowing look, one that brought a flush of red to Harry's cheeks.
Rigel chuckled lightly at Harry's reaction but pressed on, "She'll have ideas, not just on how to use your fire affinity more creatively but also on how to diversify your approach to other duelling spells."
Harry, still blushing but now nodding in agreement, listened intently. Rigel's confidence in Tracey's abilities sparked a glimmer of excitement about their upcoming collaboration.
"If you and Tracey start working on any new spells while you're away and can't quite get them to work, be sure to talk to Daphne once you're back," Rigel advised further. "She's gotten very talented in crafting spells. She might be able to tweak or develop what you two have started."
Harry felt a renewed surge of motivation, bolstered by the support network Rigel was reminding him he had. The challenge now seemed like an exciting opportunity rather than an overwhelming task.
Rigel then steered the conversation back to the immediate skills they needed to focus on. "For now, we will concentrate on learning wandless magic," he stated firmly. "Even if it's just enough that you can summon your wand back to you. Being disarmed shouldn't spell out your doom in combat."
Harry absorbed this new objective, understanding the strategic advantage of such a skill. Wandless magic was a complex and advanced form of wizardry, rarely mastered by even the most skilled wizards. Yet, the challenge invigorated him, igniting a spark of determination to push his limits and master more than he ever had before.
As they started on practical exercises, Harry felt a renewed sense of purpose. This training wasn't just about enhancing his strength or speed; it was about becoming unpredictable and adaptable, essential traits for anyone facing an opponent as formidable as Voldemort.