HARRY POTTER: THE LOST LEGACY

by peverell.magic

It was on a cold October evening that this story began, an evening that, in the eyes of many people, marked the advent of a new era, an era of great upheavals, although it would affect only a certain category of individuals.

21. CHAPTER 21: NOVEMBER EXAM

CHAPTER 21: NOVEMBER EXAM

It had been a good hour since Harry had been staring at the roof of the tent in which he slept without even blinking. Well, "admiring" was a bit of an overstatement; "observing absentmindedly" would be more accurate given the circumstances. The gray canvas had virtually nothing interesting worth dwelling on, but the absence of any decoration or ornament at least had the merit of not distracting him from the concerns he was currently facing, concerns that troubled his sleep.

However, the situation he had been facing for the past two days was enough to constantly play with his nerves, in addition to being particularly exhausting for his body, which was not accustomed to sleeping outdoors. The cold, lack of hygiene, sleep deprivation, and the lack of results in his quest had created a tense atmosphere between him and his comrades, all bitter about this early setback, especially considering the valuable reward awaiting them for their efforts.

The exam had finally arrived, and, by his own admission, Harry hadn't even noticed the time passing until that day. Training relentlessly every day in line with what had been imposed on him since September allowed him to focus only on the essentials: the success of this test. Physical activities had intensified since the announcement of the exam, and almost every morning, Harry and his comrades had to cover long distances on foot, lift heavy bags filled with stones while avoiding traps set by their instructors to complicate their task, or survive a real obstacle course where clothes had little chance of staying clean and dry. As for magic classes, they were not neglected, and while many students still struggled to connect two letters or discover the sound that these same letters produced together, learning had undergone a positive evolution since practical work had begun a few weeks ago to assess the interpretation and memorization abilities of the young recruits in search of knowledge.

The reason why their education had been so disrupted was evident, although no teacher bothered to express it openly. With the November exam approaching, everyone aimed to prepare each student as best as possible to make them operational for the D-day, a day that, according to their own accounts, arrived quickly.

Under the direct supervision of the school's headmaster, this survival test was actually intended to leverage everything they had been taught for the past three months. Every detail mattered: from simple levitation spells to the first offensive spells, everything was fair game. Success in this exam largely depended on the assimilation of all they had been taught. It encompassed harsh living conditions, the geography of the hostile landscape, communal living and its discomforts, the ever-present tension that made everyone as taut as a bowstring, and the fear of failure—all contributing to a bitter blend that left a sour taste for all recruits.

Harry himself was starting to feel the passing of time, and occasional reproaches directed at him for their lack of results made him even more irritable than usual. Despite being considered very calm, considerate, and kind, attentive to any problem, and demonstrating rare intelligence even in the most challenging situations, finding a group of enemies in a forest spanning tens or hundreds of hectares had worn down his patience in just two days.

The exam was supposed to last a week, giving him five more days to track down and capture not only Auguste Boulanger but also the seventeen other students accompanying him and their camp.

The objective seemed simple at first glance, and even Harry fell for it when he learned about it. However, now that he was in the heat of action, this seemingly straightforward task proved to be as challenging as convincing Matthew to go on a diet. Even his magic couldn't help him overcome the natural elements that added to the difficulty of his trial.

For now, he wasn't yet speaking of failure—after all, the exam wasn't over—but time ticking away was not in his favor. If he wanted to reunite with his mother and the castle servants he considered as family, he needed to find a solution to this thorny problem as soon as possible.

"Easy to say, harder to do," he muttered darkly, running his hands behind his head. "If only we had the tiniest clue to help us find them, we wouldn't be in this situation."

Yet, Harry was far from idle, and the runes he had etched into stone, wood, or directly onto the ground in every nook of the forest he and his teammates had searched could attest to that. The force field created by the connection of each rune now spanned several kilometers, completely surrounding their camp and even beyond, instantly reporting any enemy intrusion. But, for the moment, not even Boulanger seemed to have succeeded in approaching him, which relieved him slightly.

A strange high-pitched sound made him turn his head to the left, where Archimedes had been resting for a few hours. The owl was recovering from the long journey it had just completed to deliver a new letter from his home. The poor creature had covered a considerable distance, braving the inclement weather that had befallen the country. It was a wet bird with many feathers damaged by the gusts of wind that Harry had picked up the day before, just before bidding farewell to his comrades. For now, Archimedes was resting quietly on top of a wardrobe containing his belongings and part of his uniform, oblivious to the fact that his second master might need him to convey a message to his loved ones. However, Harry had no intention, for now, of thinking about sending a new letter to his mother. He wasn't even sure if sending or receiving mail during this exam was allowed, but it was now too late to consider it.

The letter he had received the day before had managed to soothe his heart a bit and momentarily forget the harshness of the situation. Having news from part of his family was, in itself, the best remedy for enduring the fatigue and stress that accompanied the exam. It was pleasant to hear from loved ones, and every word, every phrase, and even every punctuation mark he had seen acted as a stimulant, helping him keep his head above water and avoid sinking into melancholy following the long separations.

Harry was surprised himself that he hadn't shed a single tear during the many times he had tender thoughts for his two mothers, his sister, and his fiancée. Some of his comrades had already let themselves go to tears, pleading for the presence of a loved one when the reality of the academy seemed too heavy to bear. Had his relationship with them and the harsh realities of life forged a shield against it, or was it simply his Occlumency lessons that had made him insensitive to family separation? Hard to say, but even if he had shown nothing so far, he still missed his family, both the one he formed with Lily and the one he had created with his second mother.

Nevertheless, in such circumstances, Harry greatly appreciated that infamous letter, even if its content was rather perplexing. In addition to the usual news and customary recommendations befitting his status, he found, at the very end, an enigmatic sentence that prompted him to ponder its meaning for a long time.

"An pleasant surprise awaits you upon your return, the one least expected, coveted but seemingly unattainable, and which presents itself to us when we least expect it. I remain convinced that it will bring you as much joy as it has brought me, and that you will know how to appreciate this invaluable gift to its full extent."

His mother had a knack for making herself desired and managing to pique his curiosity. Moreover, another mystery was already added to the numerous questions he continually asked himself about his education, the activities he would be engaged in the future, and the professional roles he would be responsible for when the time came for him to climb the steps of the immense staircase that was his political horizon.

"Oh, mother... Why do you take such pleasure in tormenting my mind?" he grumbled, sighing. "Perhaps it's just a simple animal, but I can hardly imagine you being amazed by a horse or a dog. You know that, don't you, Archimedes?" he added, turning again to his falcon.

Archimedes squawked again, but Harry had the strange feeling that it was more to mock him than to confirm his accusation.

"You would be less conceited if I could read your mind," said Harry, scowling. "If it turned out you had one, by the way..."

This time, Archimedes made himself heard, but his cries seemed to indicate a certain form of indignation more than before. Harry couldn't help but burst into laughter before getting up from his makeshift bed to go pet his nighttime companion.

"Come on, Archi, you know I was teasing you. Without a doubt, you are the most intelligent, strongest, and cleverest bird I've ever encountered in my short life."

The bird immediately calmed down and willingly allowed himself to be caressed by his second master, who put an end to it a few seconds later when he deemed it necessary to wake up the entire camp to prepare for another day of investigation in this vast forest.

Putting on his boots, Harry briefly washed his face by splashing water from the basin that had served as his makeshift sink for the past few days. Cleanliness was the least of his concerns at the moment, but as he finished his short toilet, he momentarily imagined the horrified looks of his chambermaids who would scream at the scandal of the prince's lack of hygiene, something they had taken care of themselves for so long.

"I'll avoid talking to them about that when I see them again," he muttered, wiping his face with a towel before heading towards the exit of his tent, grabbing his heavy crimson frock coat and his sword on the way.

The weather was cool and damp, which did not improve his already gloomy mood and negative preconceptions about the upcoming day. The night had been calm, occasionally punctuated by a brief shower lasting rarely more than a few minutes, but it had been enough to make the clearing they were in muddy and slippery. The sky itself was a light gray without a hint of light, and the fog that had settled over the entire region made it difficult to observe the surroundings even for a keen eye. Harry would have allowed himself to use Nicolas's language for once by declaring that this day was going to be "rotten," but such a word coming from his mouth was inconceivable, even hundreds of kilometers away from his aunt who could have soaped his mouth for this lapse of conduct. Yet, this word best characterized the pitiful state of the place he was in.

His gaze then fell on the campfire that two of his comrades were persistently trying to maintain, despite the persistent humidity in the air and the condition of the clothes and blankets they had wrapped around themselves. Harry almost pitied the miserable state they were in, but the night rounds were necessary to ensure the camp's security, and the fire could go out at any moment if no one was watching it. Unfortunately for them, they had evidently had the misfortune of being the lucky winners of the rain shower that had compromised the waterproofing of the ground they were walking on.

Fortunately, their campfire had held up, and even the piece of canvas installed above it, thanks to the four stakes surrounding it and sinking slightly under the weight of the water it had accumulated, had not managed to extinguish the blaze, which continued to animate itself peacefully with the gusts of wind. The same could not be said for the rest of the camp, especially the horses, which, although being installed under the trees to protect them rudimentarily from the bad weather, were completely soaked, their hooves sinking several centimeters into the mud.

Faced with this sad spectacle, Harry sincerely hoped to finish this exam as quickly as possible. Although he was well aware that wars could take place under similar or even worse conditions than now, just imagining advancing through Europe in pouring rain and at the mercy of any weather change made him shudder with anxiety. Eastern Europe was particularly humid and cold at this time of year, and Harry felt sorry for the many soldiers fighting on the side of the Austrian Alps, a situation he did not envy at all. Compared to that, their exam was a wonderful health walk.

However, it was necessary to put an end to this famous health walk as soon as possible, and the first thing to do was to find out if anything specific had happened during the night while he was sleeping. For that purpose, his two watchers were perfectly fulfilling their role as informants.

"Anything to report?" he asked, pretending not to have noticed the startled jumps of his two teammates.

"Nothing at all," one of them replied, turning towards him, breathing slightly uneven. "The night was very calm..."

"How long have you been here?" he inquired with concern, not eager to have two exhausted comrades to support him today.

"Hm... we've been on watch for at least two hours, but we have nothing to check it with," declared the second, tossing another log into the already smoking blaze.

"I should have lent you my watch," Harry sighed. "But now that you're here, I'd like you to wake up the others and order them to wash briefly before joining me in my tent while I prepare what's needed to develop a new strategy. If someone asks you or shows reluctance to the idea of being up at dawn, remind them that their grade will depend in part on me and that everyone's behavior will be reported to our instructors, whether it's good or bad. It's better to be ready as soon as possible to be able to surprise the enemy when they least expect it, and laziness is not acceptable in this kind of situation."

"Understood!" they said in unison before each heading towards a tent to evict its occupants.

Harry watched them leave, and then, remembering the length of time it took for his entire group to wash, he allocated a little time for himself to continue his toilet and prepare as best as possible for their upcoming meeting. Feeling sweaty was certainly not an option now, and although he did not have as much affinity for cleanliness and appearance as the women he knew, feeling clean and smelling good was still the minimum he set for himself. In the end, he spent almost as much time as the others getting ready for the second time, but the feeling that resulted from it was well worth those long minutes of intensive cleaning. Half an hour later, he rejoined his comrades near their tents, all dressed carefully and finishing the preparations for their outfits, especially the red ribbon that each one attached to their wrist and which was the recognition color for each member of their team.

"Is everyone here?" he asked, scrutinizing each one of them in anticipation of an answer.

"Rivelli is still behind," replied a small, constantly sulking brunette named Thomas Joly. "He's primping, I believe... Like a true little girl!"

Harry pretended not to have heard his last remark, although, by his own admission, the tendency to always wash after others and preferably out of sight, as if he feared any comment about his appearance, had the knack of irritating him at times. Moreover, since the beginning of the school year, it was not uncommon for his friend to be the first or the last to wash, but he never took his bath with anyone else, which was rather disconcerting in his opinion. However, no one had questioned him about his strange behavior so far, and each respected the other's secrets to foster a conducive atmosphere for friendly relations within their group.

"I hope we'll finally find Boulanger and his team," grumbled Nicolas, kicking at a tuft of grass. "Not that I'm bored, but it's freezing in this forest, and I'm getting tired of wandering around without finding any clues to flush them out."

"We have enough supplies to last another week, thanks to the provisions left by instructors Montmorency and Riva, so don't be surprised if we don't manage to spot them today," argued Harry, now pacing in front of them. "I would have liked to start our little meeting as soon as possible, but without Jules, we can only wait for now..."

"Oh, come on, Gabi, we can start without him!" affirmed his friend, to the approving nods of the others. "We can just tell him what he missed while he finishes his toilet to avoid wasting time!"

Harry observed them for a few seconds, enough time for him to assimilate what his friend had just told him and weigh the pros and cons of his proposal. He simply nodded when he deduced that the group's interest prevailed over that of an individual.

"Let's go then," he said, starting to walk towards his tent. "We still have a lot of work to do, and if we want to finish this challenge today, we'll have to think carefully about it and revise our strategy along the way."

"Hey! Wait!" shouted the last member of their team from afar, nearly stumbling several times during his run.

They all turned towards him, and at the sight of the dozens of disapproving faces spying on him, Jules suddenly became less eager to join them and finally joined the group with his head down and hesitant steps.

"You're taking your time, Jules!" grumbled Nicolas, taking advantage of a rare opportunity to gain the upper hand over him. "Next time, we'll ask Gabriel to wake you up half an hour before us so that you're ready on time!"

For once, Jules said nothing in response to his remark, feeling guilty himself in the eyes of the others and knowing that he was also responsible for his delay. Harry did not further burden him with reproaches, although he thought no less of it. Therefore, he preferred to cut short the next verbal joust in which Jules would be the main subject and gestured for them to follow him to his quarters.

"Little girl..." he nevertheless heard from Thomas' mouth as he lifted the tent canvas to allow access.

A few seconds later, everyone was gathered around the small table on which Harry had placed a map of the region, waiting with more or less restraint for him to give his new directives. Each admired the work done on the large sheet of paper, and if anyone hoped to find information on every nook and cranny of Metz and its surroundings, then this map could easily do the trick. Everything was represented, from the small surrounding villages, the Moselle and its various tributaries and watercourses, to the different forests in the region and even the few mountain ranges bordering Lorraine and Alsace.

The only peculiarity that contrasted on the map was the color of the forest, which, in some places, changed from the usual green to a blood-red, delineating the area north of their camp and still covering a good part of that location. However, no one seemed surprised by these color differences, especially when Harry magically painted another part of the forest surrounding a small flag symbolizing the location of their own base.

"Agenda: Find and eliminate our opponents," Harry stated, anchoring one of the corners of the map with the inkwell within his reach. "This won't change from the last few days."

"Easier said than done," immediately grumbled Thomas in a pessimistic tone. "We've been combing this forest for days, and we have as much chance of finding Boulanger and the others as seeing the Virgin Mary appear before us!"

"Then keep praying to the Virgin Mary because I can assure you that we will get our hands on them," Harry replied in a low voice, glaring at him. "It's all a matter of will and determination, and if you don't feel capable of searching for our opponents for an additional day, then you can return to the academy right now. I won't hold you back. However, don't even think about blaming me for the failure of this challenge and your poor grade. I would have only assigned you the result that seemed fairest to me based on your exploits."

His teammate kept silent and contented himself with brooding in his bad mood, crossing his arms. Harry glanced at each of his comrades, challenging them with a simple glance to interrupt him again or contest his directives. The effect was successful, as not one dared to speak up or attempt to move for fear of drawing the wrath of their superior.

"So, as I was saying, we will continue the search, focusing exclusively on that today. Everyone will be responsible for finding any clues that might help us, no matter how small or insignificant. No one should be alone: an isolated and defenseless individual is at the mercy of all dangers. Like yesterday, we will, therefore, form groups of three people each time, combining one recruit more powerful than the other two to ensure their safety. If you encounter danger, alert the others using the spell Professor Louvet taught us. You all know it now, am I right?"

"Of course," they all assured in unison, briefly recalling the formula of the famous spell.

"Excellent," he approved, shifting his attention back to the map. "I propose that we cover this area today, starting from the east and reaching the Dampvitoux woods, then we will go up this Moselle tributary by bypassing the Dommartin woods until we reach our current position..."

"But... But that's a huge detour!" complained one of his comrades, sighing. "At this rate, we'll catch them by Christmas, not to mention that we could get lost!"

"Do you have another solution to suggest, Lefebvre?" retorted Jules, glaring at him. "And I remind you that we already searched this part of the forest yesterday," he added, pointing to the red expanse on the map above their base camp. "Consider yourself lucky that we don't have to search that as well! Now, if you'd use your brain, you'd know that going up this tributary, we'd reach the Moselle, and therefore, we'd have a better chance of crossing paths with them around a bend than if we plunged into the heart of the forest!"

"And what makes you think that?" Thomas intervened, looking at him disdainfully.

"It's very simple: our instructors would never have left them in a place devoid of the slightest source of food and water, so we must continue to search the Moselle banks for their camp. If, like us, they were installed near a watercourse to drink at their leisure, then they can only be to the east near the river, and we'll get our hands on them quickly."

"Well observed, Jules," approved Harry. "There's no need to venture beyond the Praillons woods; this part of the forest is marshy and unsuitable for establishing a camp," he declared, pointing to another part of the forest much further south and encompassing a large part of it. "Moreover, it's very dangerous, and with the weight of our uniforms, we would be sure to die from drowning if, unfortunately, we fell in. Our instructors wouldn't take the risk of us dying during this exam, so we can assume that their camp is close enough to the Moselle, but at the same time far enough away to avoid any combat nearby. We must also assume that they haven't been placed near a village to avoid any cheating, but conversely, we could possibly find them in that location, near the high plateaus and other landmarks. In other words, the region to watch is still vast even by removing all the parts we mentioned earlier. Taking into account our analysis, we can now exclude the entire forest from the Praillons woods to Lake Saint-Croix. But also up to the Beaumont forest and the entire area north of our camp."

Harry painted the map in red again, thus eliminating the areas where he assumed he wouldn't find his adversaries. The result was that the forest he was in had been significantly reduced, but a large strip still persisted, delineating hundreds of hectares still likely to shelter Boulanger and his comrades. Thomas was right, though: even following this reasoning, searching the forest was likely to take a lot of time, not to mention that they had to find and take the enemy camp to complete the exam. The remaining time was, therefore, too short to be held, and five days would be insufficient to fulfill all the objectives.

Even if he would never admit it, Harry felt defeated by this analysis, but showing it to others and expressing it would only further diminish the faint glimmer of hope that animated them all.

A cry from Archimedes made them all jump, and while Thomas grumbled once again about the "idiot bird" that had scared him, Harry examined him in a new light. His familiar was very good at spotting tracks from above, as well as delivering mail quickly, but could he also help him in his current task?

"What an idiot," he suddenly muttered, slapping his forehead. "Why didn't I think of this before?"

"Ahah!" exclaimed Thomas, startling the others again. "I knew that even you couldn't completely approve of your bird's actions!"

"I think I've found the solution," he declared without paying any attention to his remarks.

"Huh?" Thomas mumbled incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

Then, when he followed the direction of his leader's gaze, his incredulity turned into outright mockery.

"You can't be serious, right? How could a bird help us find them? It's certainly not smart enough to guide us!"

"I would ask you to avoid doubting the abilities of my animal if you don't want me to deal with your case when the opportunity arises," Harry replied, silencing him with a simple glance. "My bird is certainly not a dog and can't sniff out a trail, but he has excellent vision, far superior to mine, which would allow us to see much farther and especially from a higher vantage point. He would, therefore, cover a much larger area than if we split up to search this forest."

"Okay, Gabi, but even if he finds them, how could he guide us to them? He can't speak, so leading us to their camp is out of the question," Nicolas asked.

"He doesn't need to speak to show us," he replied, urging Archimedes to perch on his forearm. "Of course, I would need to stay close to him to know the location of Boulanger and the others as quickly as possible, but I have a magical connection with him that allows me to share his vision and see what he sees through his eyes. Let's just say that it could be me flying above the trees; the result would be the same. I could not only find our adversaries, know the direction to take to reach them, but also determine the strategy they adopted on their side and thus implement ours that would completely thwart theirs. Do you understand?"

The others looked at him skeptically, but Harry couldn't care less. Convinced that he might have found a solution to his problem, he was already heading towards the exit to get back into the open air, his bird firmly perched on his arm, followed by his teammates.

The fresh air whipped his face as soon as he stepped outside, but he didn't linger. Instead, he extended his arm to provide an excellent perch for his bird and closed his eyes to concentrate better. The connection with Archimedes was as easy as pie, but using it was another matter. The most challenging part was probably entering the mind of the bird in the same way as Legilimency but ensuring complete control of its body and thoughts without breaking the bond.

Yet, all he needed to do was place his other hand on his familiar's head for it to happen, and in less time than it took to say it, his vision became much clearer and sharper than before.

A nod to his left made him feel like he was looking at himself through a mirror, but the current Harry with closed eyes and outstretched arm was the one he saw.

"Connection established," Harry muttered from his main body's mouth. "We can start. Fly, Archimedes!"

The bird didn't hesitate and quickly took off, soaring above the trees. Harry had nothing left to do except maintain control of their connection and guide his bird in the direction he wanted to thoroughly examine the forest several tens of meters below. While doing this, Harry couldn't help but admire the spectacle before him, a sight that was worth its weight in gold for anyone wanting to marvel at the beauties of nature.

The view was absolutely extraordinary, and the hectares of forest stretching as far as the eye could see, with the backdrop of the first mountain ranges of the Vosges, rivaled the most beautiful paintings by artists he had ever seen. As for comparing his flight with that of a broomstick or a Muggle hot air balloon, there was no common ground: Sharing the view of a falcon while keeping his feet on the ground was much more valuable than a hot air balloon or a flying piece of wood. The effect was appreciable, and while he knew perfectly well he wasn't a bird, Harry still felt as if he could sense his falcon's feathers slicing through the November air and the wings flapping peacefully through the clouds.

But another impression was also making itself felt, and this had nothing to do with his bird. Only a few seconds were enough for him to feel that he was not entirely alone in Archimedes' body, as if another parasitic entity had also taken up residence within him.

Archimedes was perfectly immune to such cases, or so he was for anyone without a drop of Savoy blood in their veins. Only one other person fit this description in Harry's circle, someone particularly close to him.

"Mother?"

"Oh, hello, Gabriel," he heard as easily as if she were right next to him. "Quite an odd way to converse, and it seems fate has arranged for us to end up in Archimedes' body at the same time. I hope I'm not bothering you, my dear?"

"Oh, not at all! I'm just surprised to feel your presence in such a place, especially since this must be the first time we've talked in this manner. Weren't you spying on me?"

"Let's just say I was trying to find out if you received my last letter and take the opportunity to see what you were up to," she replied calmly. "But I must admit I didn't expect to come across you right here. Is there a particular reason for your use of Archimedes?"

Considering that he had nothing to hide, and especially that using his pet bird was not in itself cheating for an exam, Harry explained without delay why Archimedes was currently serving as a scout for him and his small group and how he had come up with the idea. His mother listened patiently and was quite receptive during his story, at least until she learned that he had been on his own for two days now in the middle of a forest, and the supplies he shared with his makeshift companions were limited. At that moment, it took very little for her to decide to send him a bag filled with provisions and warm blankets from her castle to withstand the cold temperatures of these recent days. However, Harry stopped her, pointing out that this exam should not go beyond the educational sphere, and therefore external aids to the school were prohibited, with the risk of direct elimination. Autonomy, resourcefulness, and rationing were the order of the day, and succumbing to the temptation of an easy solution to finish the exam quickly was out of the question.

"So, you hope to find your opponents using my familiar's sight?" she argued with a slightly mischievous tone. "Wouldn't that be considered cheating?"

"Don't you constantly tell me that one should always use whatever is at hand to achieve one's goals, regardless of its nature and our intentions? I never asked Archimedes for help, and if he hadn't been there, we would still be searching for a lead in the middle of this forest on our own. And if I'm not mistaken, falcons are already used in some units to deliver messages or spot enemies: I'm just replicating what I've been taught."

"I concede defeat," declared Marie-Louise. "I hope to at least have the opportunity to appreciate the account of your exam in the next letter you send me? Your aunt is eager to hear about your exploits, and I must admit it's quite enjoyable to read lines narrating the success of my teaching in what you're asked to accomplish in your school."

"While we're at it, could you tell me what this surprise is that you seem so eager to show me when I get back?"

"Gabriel, a surprise wouldn't be a surprise if you knew its nature beforehand. It would be like knowing your gift before unwrapping it; there would be no pleasure in that. Guessing for oneself is much more rewarding when it turns out that our intuition was correct, so I can only encourage you to imagine all the possibilities that lie ahead."

Harry was already preparing to respond, but a new and rather surprising sound immediately silenced him. A small, crystalline laughter, very gentle on the ears and pleasant to hear, had joined their conversation. Harry was sure of one thing the moment he perceived it: it definitely couldn't belong to his mother. This chuckle seemed more akin to that of a child, perhaps even a young girl of the same age as Daphne, or even younger. Was his fiancée present at this very moment? Was she listening to their conversation without reacting until now? It was hard to believe, as Daphne would seize the opportunity to inquire about him and reassure him once again that she missed his company. Her letters were already sufficient to confirm that; there was no need to hear it again. Furthermore, according to the last letter she had sent him, his fiancée was currently in Britain, enjoying the absence of her father who was busy at the Ministry securing his position as a Lord in the Wizengamot, spending her days in the company of Tracey.

Curious, and especially assured that he wouldn't have to deal with Daphne, risking prolonging the conversation despite his exam, Harry couldn't help but question his mother about the identity of this unknown person, who was not really unknown to him but his own sister. Marie-Rose de Savoie, formerly Rosalyn Potter, was relishing in her brother's ignorance, and this situation amused her so much that she struggled to stifle the giggles that involuntarily escaped her mouth. Their mother, trying to maintain the existing connection between her, her familiar, and her daughter, was finding it difficult to keep a straight face, attempting to silence a giggling Rosie who had settled on her legs.

"Are you in the company of a child by any chance?" Harry asked curiously. "I thought I heard a laugh that was far too high-pitched to be yours."

"Oh well... The Delacours honored me with a little courtesy visit, and the laughter you must have heard undoubtedly belonged to little Gabrielle after hearing a hilarious story from Apolline," his mother replied as naturally as possible despite her lie.

"In that case... Please give Gabrielle my regards," he said, not entirely convinced. "God only knows how she can be quite dull company when she doesn't get what she wants, and I suppose she must know by now that you're talking to me."

"It will be done," she promised, while trying her best to silence Rosie by placing her hand in front of her mouth as she burst into sudden uncontrollable laughter. "I look forward to seeing you again, my son; the castle has been quite dull since you left, and everyone misses you."

"That's what I gathered," replied Harry, continuing to scan the forest spreading a few dozen meters below him. "I hope my efforts won't be in vain and that they will be rewarded with that famous permission that will allow me to see you again."

"I hope so too," his mother assured.

"Me too," added Rosie before realizing that her brother could hear her. "Oops!"

"Sorry?" Harry exclaimed, unable to recognize his little sister's voice.

"I apologize, Gabriel, but I'll have to leave you now!" his mother suddenly informed him in a hurried tone. "Take care, my son, and good luck to you!"

If Harry could have raised an eyebrow, it would have gone so high that it would have disappeared into his long hair. However, Marie-Louise's rather surprising behavior had overcome his Occlumency barriers. Never before had he seen her so secretive towards him, and even though she had done her best to show nothing, Harry was now convinced that his mother was hiding something from him. But what? The question could now be asked.

Well, it could be asked later, as his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a rather unexpected sight that almost made him want to shout for joy and forget the conversation he had had with Marie-Louise.

The Boulanger's camp was finally in sight, and the first observation Harry could make upon seeing it was that it was surprisingly empty. Only three students were guarding it, huddled around the campfire that they struggled to rekindle. Just like them, their opponents had deemed it necessary to set up the tents in a circular fashion around the fire, leaving only a wide enough space to serve as an alley directly connecting them to the road leading through the forest. The only difference was that Boulanger had placed his tent conspicuously, making it impossible not to notice its prominence compared to the others, perhaps out of pride or a desire to display to everyone the superior status conferred by his position as company leader. But apart from that, the camp was an exact copy of the one Harry was currently in.

Harry attributed this to their training, or perhaps the survival instinct of everyone might ultimately be the same.

Nevertheless, this brief observation couldn't make him forget that their camp was as empty as it could be, and it was clear that the rest of the opposing team was already searching for them, possibly even on the way to their current position.

"I found them," he said in a perfectly calm tone amidst the astonished gasps of his comrades.

"Where?!" was the main question he heard amid the tumult caused by his statement.

"Hm... I can't say... I'm not familiar with the new units of measurement instituted under the new regime, but I would say a few kilometers southwest of our camp, maybe twenty... However, we need to be careful: Their camp is practically empty except for the presence of three people responsible for its security. So, we must deduce that the rest is already dispersed around it, and unlike us, they have the advantage of knowing the terrain in which they have been living for two days. It's even possible that we might find them a few kilometers from our own camp, although I didn't see any signs confirming that during my observation."

While speaking, Harry continued his reconnaissance of the enemy camp by circling just above it. The three guards didn't seem to have noticed his strange maneuvers, and Harry could leisurely describe to his teammates the situation in which Boulanger and his companions found themselves, the state of their camp, the arrangement of the tents, and even the few visible food supplies near their campfire. The only unknown now was what had become of the other fifteen enemies and, most importantly, their location: It seemed likely that they had already set out as scouts to find them.

"Let's not waste time," he said, reopening his eyes, thereby canceling the connection with Archimedes. "Head east!" he exclaimed, using his magic wand to orient himself and guide him to his target.

The wand turned slightly in his palm, under the amazed eyes of Nicolas and the others, except for Jules. The spell was far from spectacular, but Harry was one of the few for the moment who knew how to use it correctly, at least in their class. Auguste's camp was now only a few hours away from being in his hands.

"Finally, gentlemen, I think it will be unnecessary for us to separate today," he declared, stowing his magic wand in its holster, a broad smile on his face. "Now that we know the direction to take and the distance between us, we can attack their camp together and finally put an end to our exam. Prepare yourselves, my friends; the battle should start shortly!"

Cheers that resembled more like war cries accompanied his words, and carried away by the sudden euphoria, the winner, Harry, invited them to accompany him to their next destination, not without ordering them, in passing, to prepare their belongings for the journey they were about to face. Their packs were quickly packed, and after each grabbed some provisions to sustain them on the road and beyond, everyone then mounted the young horses at their disposal, which seemed themselves happy to finally stretch their legs. Fifteen young men finally left the camp, with Harry leading the way and leaving behind the three guards, somewhat disappointed not to participate in the fights and grumbling about their role as mere extras, which interested them only moderately.

"They don't seem to understand that war is not a game, even though the current situation doesn't pose any risk for us," sighed Harry, looking regretfully at the three fellows furiously reviving the wood fire. "Nevertheless, I can understand their feelings: If it were me, I undoubtedly wouldn't have liked the role assigned to me either."

"They have no reason to complain," argued Jules. "They're not risking their lives, and their work is much less dangerous than ours."

"Yeah," agreed Nicolas, chuckling. "The only problem is that they won't get to enjoy the fights, and they'll spend their time cleaning up... Poor guys, I almost feel sorry for them!"

Everyone had their own opinion on the matter, but not one volunteered to switch places with them. However, the case of these three poor souls was only briefly discussed, quickly forgotten in a few seconds by the prospect of the battles looming on the horizon. But if Harry thought that the hardest part would be facing Auguste and the opposing team, he quickly realized that being a troop leader was not as simple as anyone might think, and maintaining control over a dozen young boys eager to fight while keeping a course and an objective to hold was an ongoing battle.

Their race to the enemy camp was long and rather cumbersome, punctuated by several constraining episodes that further lengthened its duration: Using small muddy roads and paths instead of the long main roads and trails had at least the merit of not encountering a single living soul, but the drawback was, of course, covering longer distances and sometimes taking paths that were rough and impassable, especially in the forest. The horses naturally suffered from these difficult conditions, and several times, one of them nearly twisted a leg by stepping inadvertently into a hole hidden by the mud turned into mud, risking dislodging its rider. Food was also a topic that worried many members of the group, and most of the time, some expressed their disapproval of the meager resources provided out of sheer greed, while others, more sensible, were concerned about the lack of provisions that could be detrimental if the combat and the distance separating them from their goal dragged on.

But what was particularly frustrating during their journey was the incessant noise that most of the students under Harry's command caused when they couldn't help but vocally express their impatience at the future confrontations they would face, unable to realize that although this was entirely false, war itself was not a game to be taken lightly, which unfortunately was not the case here. Moreover, the noise they caused with their loud and cheerful conversations risked, among other things, giving away their position, which Harry harshly reminded them of by threatening them with a very unfavorable exam report if they didn't quiet down a bit and focus on the task at hand.

Leading the troop, he still managed to keep the course and overlook the problems caused by his comrades, assisted by his two best friends when it came to discipline and reprimanding when he wasn't busy tracing new runes on every possible surface to indicate the path they were taking and, at the same time, extend his force field in view of potential opponents who might pass through.

Due to his knowledge in magic and his status for this exam, everyone knew perfectly well that challenging his decision-making power was not advisable if they hoped to return home this winter and reunite with their families to avoid the hours of work promised by the headmaster in case of failure. This ultimately allowed Harry to assert his dominant position over them and push through his choices without encountering any resistance or opposition. War, in the end, closely resembled politics, and in moments like this where he led a group of men into a confrontation against enemies expressing divergent opinions from his own, Harry felt like a politician at the head of a political movement trying to pass his proposed laws to the government despite the fierce and obstinate opposition from his adversaries. Forcing his way through would be difficult, but in war, as in politics, weapons or words tended to make the difference, and in both situations, Harry had to present himself at his best and be as convincing as possible not only to rally his allies but to confront those who opposed him.

This exam was preparing him in a way for his future political career, and he was aware of it, even though the weight of words sometimes surpassed that of weapons. Now it was up to him to choose them carefully and take advantage of them.

"Still nothing?" Jules asked him, slightly accelerating his pace to catch up with him.

"Wait, I'll check... Homonum Revelio!" he exclaimed, pointing his wand towards the thick forest surrounding them.

Nothing happened, at least not visibly, but Harry didn't care anyway because this spell had to be as discreet as possible. Using his wand to scan the forest and detect any human trace emitting some magical aura, he meticulously searched the surroundings, guiding his wand like a conductor all around him, trying to detect any enemies who might attack them unexpectedly. If that had been the case, his wand would have suddenly started vibrating in the direction where the person was. Despite his efforts and to his regret, no wizard was caught by his spell.

"No sign of life," he muttered, putting his wand back in its holster, defeated. "We must still be far from them, or so I assume. It's only been an hour since we left our base camp, and it will undoubtedly take us a second or even a third to reach them, especially at the pace we're going. But we can't afford to gallop; otherwise, we'd be easily spotted."

"Yes, that's true," Jules agreed, nodding his head. "I'll check if we're still in the right direction... Point southwest!" he whispered after taking out his own wand.

It immediately pointed to the left side of the trail they were on, at an angle of about 70 to 80 degrees.

"Why don't we cut through the woods?" Nicolas asked, looking at them curiously. "We risk deviating from our goal by following this trail."

"Because the forest is as muddy as this trail, we haven't studied it enough to dare to enter it, even though at a glance we can judge that it would be impossible to advance due to the proximity between each tree and each branch, and because our horses could take a bad fall due to the tree roots hidden by the dead leaves, which would be detrimental to the continuation of the exam," Jules replied in an almost condescending tone. "Should I also remind you that venturing into the woods could also make us lose even more time than if we did it by following the paths already traced?"

"Oh, come on, it was just a question," their friend grumbled, glaring at them. "I'm not as smart and farsighted as you two, no need to remind me!"

"Silence, you two," Harry ordered before Jules even had a chance to reply. "No one here is here to mock each other, and I won't tolerate any further insult towards anyone. You are my seconds, and you will henceforth have the obligation to behave impeccably from now on, or I will regretfully assign your roles to others more deserving!"

The threat was immediately silenced, and neither of the two uttered a single word afterward, a fact that Harry secretly rejoiced in. The others also became more discreet, noticing the oppressive silence that had settled between their hierarchical superiors, indicating trouble for anyone daring to defy their authority and toy with their nerves. Needless to say, the following minutes and hours were particularly calm.

It took Harry nearly two hours in the end to get close to the area where Auguste and his seventeen companions were supposed to be. Less than three kilometers from their camp, Harry ordered his small group to slow down to avoid being easily spotted: The horses were particularly noisy now, unlike their masters who, sensing the inevitable onset of combat, had finally become much quieter for some time. Their march continued nonetheless at a quick pace, with Harry having previously cast a spell to cover the noise made by the horses' hooves on the damp forest road they had embarked on. But soon, they had to abandon it and venture through increasingly numerous and dense trees, which proved to be a challenge and slowed their progress significantly. Some even decided to remove their shako to avoid getting it caught between the high branches of a tree, while others focused on the road, constantly looking on either side for any signs of ambush.

But after a few minutes of traversing the forest, Harry and his comrades emerged into a rather large clearing devoid of the smallest tree and only composed of a few scattered bushes. The place was completely open and exposed, perfect for setting up a camp, but also excellent for being spotted and attacked from all sides. Nothing could defend it, and the clearing was itself situated in a basin conducive to cavalry charges. Unfortunately, Boulanger's camp was beyond this expanse of grass, and the clearing was perfectly devoid of any human or animal traces.

"Too bad," Jules murmured next to him, also observing what could have been a magnificent battlefield. "Given the space, we could have outpaced them in speed and even in numbers."

"Now we need to find out where they are," Harry informed, once again pulling out his magic wand. "We are only a few leagues from their camp, so it would be obvious to me that they will try not to stray too far. Homonum revelio!"

As before, Harry directed his wand over a large area in search of his adversaries, and as time passed, everyone could observe a rather surprising behavior in him given the situation they faced. Harry was smiling, a smile almost stretching from one ear to the other as he meticulously searched the forest, even looking behind them. Then, as quickly as he had cast his spell, he lowered his arm and put his wand back in its holster without losing that strange smirk.

"We are on the brink of a busy day, my friends," he declared, turning to them. "The fights will soon begin."

"Did you spot them?" one of them asked eagerly.

"Almost all of them," Harry confirmed. "The greater the distance between us, the harder it is for me to know how many members make up the groups I could sense. But what I can be certain of right now is that six enemies are near our position: three in this direction, and three in that one."

While speaking, Harry pointed out the supposed direction each time, and everyone hastened to observe as if memorizing or tracing a path leading to them.

"There's another group on this side," he added, pointing this time to a spot almost behind them. "They are far too distant from our position, and unfortunately, I can't perceive the number and power of each person in it. I only sense a confused mass of magic moving rapidly..."

"We should be cautious; they could block our path and prevent us from fleeing if the situation isn't favorable for us," Jules argued thoughtfully.

"We should deal with this group as a priority, I think," Nicolas added, under the intrigued gazes of the others. "Well, yes, if... if we attack the two groups closest to us now, that one could very well come to their aid, and soon we'd find ourselves attacked on three sides with no possibility of turning back."

His sentence hung in the air when he realized that everyone, without exception, was looking at him curiously, with even a hint of wonder in some. Faced with all these scrutinizing looks, Nicolas immediately lowered his head in embarrassment, nervously fiddling with the reins of his horse, trying to ignore the attention now focused on him.

"But you can say smart things when you want!" Thomas suddenly exclaimed. "I thought you were the most foolish and incapable of using your brain among the three of you..."

"Shut up, Joly!" Nicolas retorted, although he still blushed under the praise.

"Thomas is right," Jules affirmed in a very serious tone. "For once, what you're saying, Nick, makes a lot of sense. We'd be heading for disaster if we charged blindly against them without even thinking about the best possible strategy."

"Typical of a Gryffindor, after all," Harry mockingly thought, briefly picturing the image of his late father and Sirius. "In that case, we must split up," he said in a solemn voice, redirecting all attention to him. "Counting the six people I spotted earlier and the three others guarding their camp, we can deduce that there are nine people left to uncover and defeat. The third mysterious group I also found doesn't seem larger than the others, and the concentration of magic was relatively weak. I might be going out on a limb by saying that it probably also consists of three people, leaving us with two possibilities: Either the last six people are together, forming a very substantial group, or they've divided into two, ultimately forming five teams of three. I would tend to prefer the latter, but to be honest, and knowing Boulanger, I would bet my fiancée's dowry that our dear comrade thought it wise to surround himself with a close guard to cover his back."

With a flick of the reins, Harry gently turned his horse to face Jules. Eyes locked, they exchanged glances for a few seconds without uttering a word, as if a simple look was enough for mutual understanding. Indeed, a nod from his right-hand man concluded the silent agreement they had established between them. The rest of their team, while wondering about the meaning of this gesture, did not allow themselves the luxury of questioning them about it.

"Labouré, Joly, Meunier, and Delannoy, you will go with Jules to confront that group. You will be under his command until you finish this task, so obey him in the same way you obey me. I have complete confidence in your abilities and teamwork, so I hope not to be disappointed by your result. Remember that if something unfortunate happens, shoot a few red sparks into the air so that we can come to your aid, but only do so in case of emergency: If we can see you this way, our enemies can too. Good luck, gentlemen!"

With a collective nod, all five immediately set to their task, and in a devilish gallop, riders and mounts disappeared as one into the depths of the forest. The echoes of hooves hitting the ground lingered for a few seconds, then the deafening calm of the forest finally returned around them.

"Now it's our turn," he said, turning towards the clearing. "Since we're avoiding close combat in the middle of the forest, let's bring them to us where we want them to be," declared Harry, once again pulling out his magic wand. "We'll then not only have the advantage of the terrain and psychological edge over them but also the element of surprise!"

Pointing his wand towards the grassy expanse perfect for his little plan, Harry concentrated to draw the minimum magic to his closed fist to cause the maximum visible damage. If he was going to make a lot of noise, he might as well do it in the most spectacular way, and accidental magic in his case was perfectly suitable. The process was deceptively easy, and by releasing a tiny portion of the magic in his wand's core, he guided it solely by the force of his mind to the desired part of his body, his hand, to then make it enter his wand through the existing connection between it and his magical core. Child's play, in short, yet the slightest failure or lapse in attention could have serious repercussions on the health of his arm or any other part of his anatomy through which the amount of magic he wanted to use circulated. But today, nothing untoward happened, and with satisfaction, he felt his wand pulsing under the pressure of the stored magic. Without further ado, he released it with a simple sharp movement. A luminous ball of dazzling white immediately shot out, as fast as a rifle bullet, under the astonished eyes of Harry's comrades who couldn't believe this new display of magic from their superior.

The ball, for its part, swiftly headed towards the terrain cleared of any forest traces, and less than five seconds later, when it hit the ground head-on, a gigantic explosion occurred, sweeping away vegetation for several meters and creating a huge ball of smoke mixed with dust that rose well above the trees in no time. A gust of wind also stirred when the impact occurred, blowing all the surrounding trees, which, in turn, lost the many dead leaves still clinging to their branches.

Satisfied, Harry put his wand back in its holster, smiling victoriously, without even noticing the looks cast upon him by his teammates, a mix of fear, respect, and astonishment.

"If they don't spot us with that, then damn me!" he exclaimed delightedly. "Now all we have to do is wait and occasionally check if someone is approaching. A good plan, don't you think?"

It was then that he noticed the expressions on Nicolas and the others' faces, and at the sight of their looks, he quickly changed his tune. Had he done something wrong? Could it be that unintentionally he had frightened his companions? Could such a display of magic put them in this state? Harry was perplexed, especially since he didn't think he could disturb them so much.

"I-Is there a problem?" he asked, as if to reassure himself that he hadn't gone too far.

"Gabi... H-How did you do that!?" stammered Nicolas, still looking at him with wide eyes.

"That? Oh! Well... It's just a spell!" he lied, preferring to temporarily conceal his wandless magic talent. However, before Nicolas could ask him more, he decided not to teach them, at least until they were capable of using a wand perfectly. "This spell is very difficult to master, and the slightest improper movement could cause terrible damage to your body. I don't think you would like to lose a hand for taking that risk..."

The other risk that Harry carefully avoided telling them was that a mishandling of the raw magic circulating in his body and a miscalculation in attacks like the one he had just used could completely drain his core and jeopardize his own life. Anyway, just telling them that they could lose an arm by trying to use this "spell" had been enough to curb their enthusiasm. Seeing the disgusted expressions they all wore, Harry was now convinced that they wouldn't ask him to teach them for a long time.

"In any case, it's very powerful!" exclaimed Nicolas, giving him a friendly pat on the back. "You really hide your skills well, Gabi, but at the same time, given what you're already capable of in class, I shouldn't even be surprised!"

Harry just smiled shyly at the praise, especially since the others followed Nick's lead to congratulate him on this rather explosive demonstration of magic. The cloud caused by the explosion on his side was slowly dissipating, although it now spread beyond the clearing where Harry had so eagerly practiced the use of magic. The hole appeared shortly after, and everyone held their breath in astonishment at the depth and width of it: The fall of a meteorite would have easily caused the same damage if the opportunity had presented itself.

"They shouldn't be long now," muttered one of them, putting an end to the various discussions.

Indeed, a first group of three people came to stand near the crater, joined a few moments later by a second group of the same size. However, despite Harry's concentration on the magical signatures of each core, none matched Boulanger's. The leader of the opposing group was clearly not present, and by simply observing the behavior of the six enemies clustered around the hole, there was no doubt that they themselves didn't know what to do or how to act in this situation.

"Boulanger isn't here, but that's not a problem," he warned them, pulling on the reins of his horse. "Nicolas, I want you and four others to take them from the left flank on my signal. Take whoever you want, I don't care. I just ask you to wait for my signal to attack so that we are perfectly coordinated. The rest of you, come with me. We'll flank them from the right to attack on two fronts. The element of surprise is crucial!"

Everyone nodded silently as Nicolas, after careful consideration, made his choice from the many possibilities available to him. Harry also noticed that he had chosen the best elements to accompany him, but he bore no grudge: his friend was far from proficient in magic, and the assistance of more experienced recruits who were better equipped to penetrate the defenses of the opposing camp was better than a poorly planned plan ending in failure. On his part, he could easily compensate for the shortcomings of the members forming his designated group, even if it meant taking risks to ensure their safety.

"Hurry before they leave," he ordered them, heading quickly towards his next destination. "Follow me, the rest of you!"

The echoing hooves through the trees soon became the only distinct sound that could be heard, except for the horses' labored breaths and the riders on them. Harry took advantage of this to try to mask the gallop of his horse and those of his teammates by using a silencing spell, but the result was far from sufficient: the ground was covered with crackling dead leaves, and it was challenging to venture into the forest as quietly as possible. So Harry opted for another solution, more radical and riskier for the progress of his plan: circumvention. The route was consequently longer, but the risk of being discovered was much lower. His choice proved successful when a few minutes later, he saw the same clearing as before but from a different direction. The enemy group was also much closer, and even if it was too far to understand the meaning of their words, Harry could still hear the animated conversations taking place.

"And now?" one of his comrades asked him with a worried tone.

"We wait a few more minutes, then we charge," he declared, tapping the sheath of his sword. "I want to be sure that Nicolas and the others are ready too before we do anything. Draw your swords if you feel capable of facing our opponents without holding your reins, but I don't want to see anyone without a magic wand. Use everything you know, anything that could be useful and could tip the balance in our favor. We outnumber them by far, so it would be ridiculous to lose now!"

The others nodded, although Harry could easily sense that they were far from fully ready to fight. Anxiety and a small dose of fear were the prevailing feelings, and Legilimency was perfectly useless to realize it.

"Remember the wise words of Instructor Montmorency," he told them to try to reassure them. "There is no time or place to fight. There is no other man to hold your sword, your wand, or your reins. In battle, there is only you, your horse, and your enemies, and a man cannot fight with all his heart and soul if his feelings take over. Disregard your apprehensions and think only of two essential things: the reach of your arm and the spells you will use."

Then, turning to them, he gave them a sincere smile full of vigor and determination, thus giving them all the courage that animated him.

"Let us honor our crest as well as those who have honored it and died for it! Attack!"

Harry didn't need to shout any louder to push his teammates to follow him; the war cries they emitted were more than enough to show the rage and thirst for battle that animated them. The small gentle slope that separated them from their target didn't take long to descend, and in no time, the dense forest gave way to a land devoid of any vegetation where six poor riders suddenly felt trapped. Attacked from two sides, Boulanger's comrades didn't know where to turn and simply turned around in place without knowing what to do, how to act. Harry, on the other hand, didn't have to worry about that and charged the group at the head of his small unit, yelling as loudly as the others at the mere thought of finally clashing with his opponents. He didn't waste time letting go of his reins and grabbing his wand while twirling his sword in his other hand to show himself doubly dangerous but also with the unspoken aim of showing off a bit.

The adrenaline, which had taken control of his body in the meantime, was perhaps responsible for it, and a mixed feeling of power and strength surged within him as he realized that he was currently a troop leader rallying his troops in an inevitable battle. Real battles were not yet on the agenda, but soon, he might act the same way with real soldiers against real enemies, and the call of the blood was at this moment stronger than anything else. Even the little phrase that usually repeated in his head, the famous "War is not a game," had no place for him anymore, no more than the feeling of acting immaturely like a child his age, which was far from fitting his status as a prince, crossed his mind.

"With me, my comrades!" he rallied them, pointing his wand at their enemies. "Stupefy!"

The spell shot off like a cannonball with red reflections toward them, quickly joined by a multitude of other colors depending on the spell Nicolas and the others used. Anyone passing nearby could easily have believed that a rainbow had fallen to Earth, and unfortunately, the six young men in the center of the clearing were caught in it and found themselves completely blinded by this surge of colors of which they were the epicenter. Still, at least someone benefited from it, and Harry seemed very satisfied seeing his spell hit its target immediately.

Spells flew from all sides, and due to their inexperience, it happened that a spell cast by Nicolas or his followers went towards Harry or one of his companions. Still, Harry showcased his reflexes and highly developed sense of anticipation by quickly conjuring shields that absorbed the spells approaching them. The same problem also existed on their side, and it took little for one of their comrades on the other side of the clearing to be hit by a spell as well.

Nevertheless, the battle quickly turned into a demonstration of power where each hoped to surpass the other by trying to use increasingly impressive curses, even if it had to be admitted that the three short months of learning had not allowed them to learn a lot. The poor squad caught between two fires could only contemplate helplessly this outburst of fury against them. In just a few seconds, three of Auguste's comrades fell under the spells, making a nearly one-meter fall to the ground fortunately cushioned by the thickness and softness of the grass.

Then came close combat, and close combat meant sword fighting. Harry had long been familiar with this, at least with a real sword, unlike most of his comrades who had only discovered this weapon at the beginning of the school year. But what he was less used to was that the sword he had been given for this exam was not made of metal but wood, making it unfit for slashing or eliminating an opponent:

The "blade" itself was totally dull and couldn't even cut a twig. The interest in this weapon that made it special was that it was magically reinforced to make it almost unbreakable. By a process known to the enchantment professor, a spell had been put in place inside to activate only when the wood of the weapon was in contact with a person's skin. In other words, it was enough for Harry to touch an opponent's skin with the tip of the rounded blade to activate the spell and immobilize them immediately.

Taking advantage of the confusion caused by the spells exploding from all sides, Harry drew his sword and discreetly touched one of his opponents on the right side, immediately paralyzing him. As a precaution, however, he levitated the now immobile body to the ground to avoid any bad falls, without worrying about the fights taking place around him. Already three opponents had fallen, and the one he had just touched only added to them. Now only two enemies remained, but strangely, only one was visible right in the middle of the surrounding chaos, an enemy who also didn't take long to be defeated by his numerous adversaries who came all together to put him on the ground too. A sword blow to the arm, two in the chest, and one in the leg were more than enough to make him fall from his horse and crash onto the soft grass that the hooves trampled.

The heavy impact immediately signaled the end of the fights, and Harry's comrades immediately shouted for joy at this realization, all proud and delighted to notice that not a single one had been hit by an enemy spell or sword.

"Victory!" one of his teammates exclaimed, raising his sword in the air.

"Not yet," another interrupted him suddenly, pointing with a nod of his head to a last opponent who, undoubtedly frightened by their charge and attack, had discreetly slipped away from the scene of battle to try to escape without being noticed.

Harry's immediate pursuit to stop him as well. The boy, whom Harry identified as Jean Duval, lived up to his reputation as a coward. He unsuccessfully attempted to flee the clearing by violently striking his horse with the reins. However, a well-aimed Stupefy hit him in the middle of his back. Their last opponent collapsed pitifully in the grass, face down and completely unconscious, now oblivious to the approaching sounds of hooves.

"Coward!" Harry berated as he also dismounted from his horse. "Who are you to abandon your comrades in the midst of battle!? This is unworthy of a man claiming to be a soldier! You'd be hanged without trial for this in wartime! Cowardice never pays, nor will it save you from the just punishment you deserve!"

Harry knew perfectly well that the unconscious state of Jean prevented him from responding. Nevertheless, he found it satisfying to unleash his anger on someone who absolutely did not deserve his sympathy. In a way, he felt like admonishing his former little brother and his deviant personality that made him an abhorrent and unkind being. On the other hand, Jean was not his brother, so Harry deemed it appropriate to cut short his monologue by dragging the unconscious body towards the others.

"What do we do now?" Nicolas asked when they lined up the motionless bodies side by side.

"We wait for Jules and the others to return, then we'll continue searching for Boulanger's remaining comrades," he informed them, checking that all his teammates were well. "We'll use the opportunity to signal our instructors to come pick them up," he added, pointing to their former adversaries.

Speaking of signals, a reddish flash suddenly appeared a few kilometers from their position, illuminating the grayish sky of the Lorraine region and startling the few remaining birds in the forest. The battle between their friends and Boulanger's teammates had evidently just ended, but the outcome was currently unknown to them.

"I'll check," Harry said before anyone could ask. "Homonum Revelio!"

The magical cores were not difficult to find, or rather their auras. Harry could recognize his friend's aura among the others, but it was hard for him to know what had happened. He could only sense that his magic had apparently slightly decreased due to its use, but apart from that, his life itself did not seem to be in danger.

Seconds passed in a heavy silence where all eyes were fixed on Harry, hoping for reassuring news about their comrades before finally, a smile appeared on their leader's face.

"They're fine," he reassured them, lowering his wand. "Well, more or less fine. However, I only sense the aura of three people coming towards us, indicating that two of our friends apparently fell in battle, but I couldn't say which ones."

The answer came twenty minutes later when Jules reappeared a few meters away, leading the way for Joly and Labouré, who seemed to have faced terrible and challenging trials judging by the disastrous state of their uniforms. Meunier and Delannoy were absent, finally providing an answer regarding the fate of the two missing comrades. Meanwhile, Harry had been busy tending to the wounded, even though the injuries resembled more scratches and a few sprained wrists.

"There were four of them," Jules stated with a sigh before Harry could even ask, correcting Harry's previous statement about their number. "We narrowly escaped, they had also spotted us!"

"Yeah, and they led us right where they wanted us," Thomas continued, rolling his eyes. "We got ambushed right in the middle of the forest, and there were bushes everywhere! We couldn't charge at them with our horses, so we had to face them from a distance, using our spells, and move from tree to tree to get to them. Luckily, we were five, or else I wouldn't bet much on our skin!"

"At least we're still here," the third one finished, sighing resignedly. "We can't say the same for the others..."

"No need to be so saddened, Labouré, they're not dead!" Nicolas reproached him as the others laughed heartily.

"Perhaps, but we still lost two people from our team!"

However, the number war didn't extend beyond this brief exchange, and after ensuring that the bodies were safe, Harry cast the same spell Jules used to alert their superiors of unconscious students in the area. He then invited his comrades to accompany him... before pondering the direction to take now. Where to go? Should he pursue Auguste, risking losing the trace of his camp? Should he return to his own camp and attack again the next day? But the risk was that Boulanger might realize that several of his teammates were missing and decide to move his headquarters. Now remained the last option: Head towards the enemy camp and take control, awaiting the return of its owner.

"I prefer the third solution," affirmed Jules when he presented the potential scenarios.

"Me too," confirmed the others in unison.

"I must admit, I'm also up for it, but we should be careful. We don't know what might be lurking in their camp, and it's possible that protections have been put in place, just like ours. It might be best to wait for some time on the road leading to the camp until Boulanger shows up. Then we'll somehow force the last three to surrender."

The plan was accepted by his entire small group, and anyway, it was better not to contest the decisions of their superior. Thus, after once again using the cardinal points enchantment, Harry led them on the small road towards their final objective: the enemy camp. However, they stopped at a sufficient distance from it to avoid being spotted, and crouched in the bushes and trees lining the path, they waited patiently for the providential return of the one who would allow them to secure a return to their families during the Christmas period. The hours passed again, but the wait was not a problem; everyone knew that the end of their exam was imminent, and no one would complain. So, when they heard Harry affirm that Auguste was finally entering the range of his detection spell, not a single one sighed in relief or expressed aloud the long wait they had endured.

"Perhaps tonight, we can once again enjoy the good food from the cafeteria," he said to himself, boosting his courage.

Auguste and his last companions approached slowly and increasingly closer to their position, seemingly unaware that they were heading straight into another trap. Harry could even hear them chatting and laughing from where he was, completely oblivious to the situation they were blindly rushing into and also unaware that the end of this exam seemed to be approaching rapidly. In fact, Boulanger, by the sound of his laughter, gave the impression that he greatly enjoyed this test week and didn't really care about coming face to face with Harry and his own team.

"Get ready," Harry ordered when they were only about thirty meters away. "Just like before: we cast from a distance, then charge at them for close combat..."

"Now!"

Harry barely had time to turn around before a spell grazed his face, ending up on the tree behind him. Several other spells pounded their area, and two of them even hit a target each, which Harry watched helplessly fall to the ground. Their surprise attack was falling apart, and the saying "he who thought he was taking was taken" perfectly suited their situation: Boulanger had long since spotted them, probably thanks to the same spell Harry was already using, and by pretending not to have noticed them, he had willingly walked into the trap Harry set, falsely making them believe they had the advantage of a surprise attack.

"Well thought out, Auguste," Harry admitted grudgingly, straightening up in his saddle. "With me, my comrades, charge!"

Even with two teammates missing, Harry's group still outnumbered the others, almost two to one, and the barrage of spells flying towards Auguste was evidence of that. But by losing the element of surprise, Harry also lost the opportunity to react before the others retaliated, and Boulanger's spells were also adding to the melee.

Soon, a deluge of spells as dense as the rain that was beginning to fall everywhere around them, regardless of any measure of caution. Two more of Harry's comrades were hit by shots whose origin and the possibility that they were from one of their own comrades could be entirely possible. But the opposing group was not faring well either, and in no time, only one comrade was left for Auguste, valiantly fighting against four opponents at once.

Harry now defiantly locked eyes with his opponent and enemy as they silently sized each other up while trotting on the trail as if they wished to form a circle with their young horses' hooves. The duel was inevitable, and the others quickly realized it. Just like a few weeks ago now, Jules, Nicolas, and the rest of those present awaited the inevitable duel between the two best students in their class, with the memory that Harry had won their first battle.

"Here we meet again, Bourbon," said Auguste, opening the customary verbal joust. "I must say I'm surprised to see that you dare to attack me while trying to hide in the trees, I thought little princes were men and attacked head-on..."

"The element of surprise, Boulanger," Harry replied with a mocking smile. "Unfortunately, you can't understand all the subtleties of good military strategy, you who spend most of your time fooling around in class and neglecting to listen to your instructors. But you surprised me, I admit it: I never thought you were capable of using Homonum Revelio, especially since Instructor Riva only started teaching it to us at the beginning of last week."

"I gather information, that's all. I don't rest on my laurels!"

"Unfortunately, it seems that you remain the same on one point, and that will be your downfall."

"Oh yeah?" Auguste retorted, raising his tone. "And what is it?"

The answer was already evident, and the small smile now adorning Harry's face promised nothing good for Auguste. His ego would likely take a hit, and every spectator easily understood this by the attitude of the Prince of Lamballe.

"Your arrogance, and... your stupidity."

That was enough for Auguste to draw his wand from its holster and initiate a new duel against Harry. The combat seemed, at first glance, the same as before, but being on horseback considerably reduced the flexibility of each participant.

"Expelliarmus!" Auguste exclaimed after a minute of confrontation.

The spell narrowly missed Harry, but it nonetheless struck the wooden sword he kept at his belt, and it flew away the moment it was touched. Harry cursed inwardly, furious to see that one of his weapons was now out of reach, but Occlumency, helping control his emotions, did not alter his dueling abilities. For every spell he received, another countered the various attacks. Even his horse, frightened by the flashing lights narrowly missing it each time, greatly aided in his efforts. But their duel began to linger, and Harry deemed it necessary to raise the stakes, especially when another spell hit his horse's eye, almost causing it to fall.

"Looks like you're getting tired, Bourbon!" Auguste proudly shouted as he saw him struggling to control his horse. "Maybe our last duel was just a stroke of luck for you after all!"

"Never count your chickens before they're hatched, my dear rival," he warned, smirking, while from the corner of his eye, he saw Boulanger's teammate defeated by the combined alliance of Jules, Nicolas, and Thomas.

Harry then brought his wand close to his mouth, whispering incomprehensible words to it. A tiny flame appeared at its tip, barely larger than a candle's, but what followed surprised everyone. Harry suddenly blew on it and towards Auguste, and with a resounding explosion, hell was unleashed on Earth: the flame, initially only one or two centimeters long, suddenly seemed to come alive, eventually transforming into a gigantic uncontrollable blaze charging straight at its target. Nicolas felt like he was witnessing a particularly experienced fire-breather, and the scene currently unfolding could prove him right.

Nevertheless, the immense blaze was rapidly heading towards a completely surprised and helpless Auguste, struggling above all to maintain control of his horse, which had no intention of staying here waiting to be turned into a roast.

The steed reared immediately to the point that it unseated Auguste, making him fall heavily to the ground. The fire narrowly avoided him by several centimeters as Harry intended, but the damage was done: without a mount and undoubtedly sore from the fall, Auguste saw his chances of winning diminish significantly. Yet, he still rose to continue the fight, and without wasting a minute, he sent a new barrage of spells towards Harry, who could only block them thanks to the shields he formed for each incoming spell. Harry himself decided to abandon his horse to be more comfortable in his movements, and the battle then took a different turn. Each competed with tricks to overcome the other, but with a bruised back and constant pain in his pelvis, Auguste looked pitiful and spent most of his time bending his body to avoid feeling the burning pain when trying to stand up entirely.

A bolt of pain, more powerful than the others, made him kneel, and Harry seized the opportunity to put an end to this fight:

"Intetior Cura Radicum!"

The trees around them suddenly seemed to come to life, and the earth at their feet stirred. It was as if hundreds of animals were digging the ground simultaneously, or at least that was the impression until the roots themselves emerged from the earth, heading towards Auguste. The smaller ones immediately wrapped around his limbs, similar to their first duel, but the larger and thicker ones remained above him like threatening clubs, poised to strike Auguste if he dared to try to move.

"Impossible to move now," Harry declared, pointing his wand at him. "But I won't do the same as last time, leaving you in a state of consciousness would be a serious mistake I won't make. Stupefy!"

And just like his comrades, Boulanger was in turn defeated, although Harry and his friends praised the sheer tenacity he had shown. Their now defeated opponent collapsed on the ground when he was released from his vegetal prison, and the shock caused by his encounter with the fresh soil of the path witnessing their battle was the only sound that could be heard for several hundred meters around. The world around them seemed to have stopped, and everyone was more or less dazed by the sight before them. With their enemy leader defeated, their exam was now taking a new turn, a turn that was advantageous to them above all and sounded like an obvious prelude to their future victory.

"Well, now something terrible would have to happen for us to lose," Jules asserted, already gathering the various bodies on the ground, be they friends or foes.

"And what do we do now?" Nicolas asked him, also dragging one of their own teammates like a sack of potatoes.

"As usual: We leave them here, informing our instructors of their presence in this location so they can come pick them up. We'll continue our way to their camp. With seven against three, I don't think they'll boast for long."

His eyes then fell on Auguste's lifeless body, and as quickly as a musket ball, another weighty argument for the final phase of his plan appeared in his mind.

"We keep this one," he said, struggling to lift him onto his horse. "He'll serve us perfectly to negotiate with his three remaining teammates. It would be very surprising if they continued the fight now that their leader has been eliminated."

Jules nodded in agreement as he lent a hand in the endeavor. Then, as each mounted their horse again, Joly didn't wait for anyone to volunteer but pulled the red beam indicating the location of incapacitated students himself.

Harry considered it unnecessary due to the intense clashes that had taken place, which could have been seen for miles around, but he didn't hold it against Joly for his eagerness to act without being invited. On the contrary, he preferred to guide his remaining companions to Boulanger's camp, now certain of his group's success in this exam.

The journey lasted relatively little compared to the long trek through the forest they had had previously, and in just over ten minutes, the first outlines of the tents became visible on the horizon. Harry could even see the three boys busy tidying up their camp, perhaps thinking that the approaching riders could only be their own comrades. Much to their misfortune, noticing the red bands on their wrists, they immediately regrouped near the fire, wands raised, and eyes fixed on the approaching squadron.

"Well, this is a strange way to welcome guests," Nicolas mocked them, looking down on them. "Didn't anyone ever teach you to be courteous and helpful when someone comes to your home?"

"Except that you're not welcome," one of them retorted. "So get out before the others come back if you don't want to get crushed!"

"The others?" Thomas chuckled joyfully, laughing. "Do you mean your friend Boulanger and his fifteen followers? Sorry to disappoint you, but you'll have to wait a long time to see them come to your rescue!"

The boy raised his eyebrows at this assertion, doubt creeping in like a serpent among them. To deliver the final blow, Harry deemed it right to show them his ultimate argument, who was pitifully slumped on the flanks of his horse.

"Perhaps this will shed some light on your lantern," he said, grabbing a handful of Auguste's hair to show them his face. "If with this, you still don't understand that you're done for, then I wash my hands of it."

The sight of their unconscious leader finally shattered the fragile courage that had animated them until then, and while no sound came out of their mouths to testify to it, their arms, trembling like leaves caught in a whirlwind, could assure it.

"We have your leader, and all your comrades are already on their way back to school to get treated as we speak. You are now alone, without leadership, and outnumbered, so it would be useless to continue the fight. You know what to do now..."

The three recruits looked at each other for a few seconds, then resigned to their fate, each threw his wand on the ground and far enough to assure Harry of their total submission. Kneeling on the ground with their hands behind their heads, all three were now waiting for the sentence that would befall them, hoping that Harry wouldn't cast a very painful spell on them.

"No need to think about that, I have no intention of tormenting you further," he announced as he dismounted from his horse. However..."

A wave of his wand conjured sturdy ropes that wrapped around their wrists, binding them behind their backs to prevent them from trying anything against him or his comrades.

"That's perfect," Harry approved, finishing tying the last student. "I think I'm not mistaken in saying that we are the winners?" he added, turning to the others.

They responded by shouting again, delighted, just like him, to have overcome the other team in the best possible way, although some issues had nevertheless taken their toll on some of their friends who fell in battle. In the future, they will have to review in more detail every aspect of their plan and the course of this exam in general, and that's what everyone was thinking as they all fired another volley of bright beams into the air, signaling to their instructors that the final touch to their adventure had just been added. Now, the only thing left was to find out what grade Harry would give them, and on that point, there was no chance that he would keep his initial impressions to himself.

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