Harry Potter paused in the fourth-floor corridor of Hogwarts, letting his gaze drift over the honeyed rays of late afternoon sunlight spilling through the towering windows.
The ancient stones glowed with warmth, their austere grey touched by a fleeting hint of gold.
It was a rare moment of stillness amid the bustle of school life—a moment Harry cherished.
He rested against the wall, ruffling a hand through his newly shortened hair.
It still refused to lie flat—some things, he supposed, never changed.
Yet the simple act of altering his appearance felt oddly liberating.
'Maybe this is my subtle way of reclaiming who I am,' he mused. 'Not the icon everyone expects me to be.'
A distant echo of footsteps drew his attention.
He straightened just as Neville Longbottom appeared, staggering slightly under the weight of a large clay pot filled withMimbulus mimbletoniacuttings.
A faint sheen of sweat dampened Neville's brow, and his robes bore fresh smudges of dirt, as if he'd narrowly escaped the clutches of aVenomous Tentacula.
Harry moved closer to lend a hand. "That plant looks like it's ready to die. Are you okay?"
With utmost care, Neville lowered the pot onto the floor and exhaled heavily. "I found it half-abandoned in Professor Sprout's greenhouse. Couldn't leave it there after hearing how some students neglect older specimens. It's just… not right."
His voice held a quiet note of indignation, though he offered Harry a lopsided smile.
"Should we find somewhere quieter?" Harry asked, glancing around at the growing number of students heading toward the Great Hall for dinner.
Neville hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Yes—if you don't mind. I wanted to talk in private."
Something in Neville's tone made Harry's eyebrows lift.
He sensed a certain urgency, maybe even nerves.
'Is this about what I think it is?' Harry wondered, suppressing a knowing grin.
They navigated a series of winding corridors until they discovered an empty classroom, dust motes drifting lazily in bronze streams of the evening light.
Neville chose a rickety chair near the front, while Harry sat on the corner of an old oak desk, arms folded as he regarded his friend.
Neville dragged a hand over his face, as though steeling himself. "Right. I need some advice—and I promise it's not about my misadventures attracting flesh-eating slugs."
Harry let out a low chuckle. "Glad to hear it. So… what's on your mind?"
With a slightly rueful expression, Neville said, "It's Hermione."
He pressed his lips together, pausing as if waiting for Harry's reaction. "You know how we went for tea after Charms that one time? Not quite adate,but… it felt different."
Harry inclined his head, trying not to grin too broadly. "I recall you mentioning it once or twice… or every bloody day!"
A faint flush coloured Neville's cheeks. "I know I keep bringing it up, but… she's so smart, and she never talks down to me. We discussed magical creature rights, her S.P.E.W. efforts, and even some advanced curses Barty Crouch told us about. She made it all sound fascinating. I—"
He hesitated, fiddling with a frayed patch on his robe. "I'd like to ask her out again. Properly this time. But she's often busy with Viktor Krum's library sessions. I can't tell if she's just being kind or if she'd genuinely like to spend time with me."
Harry allowed a beat of thoughtful silence to stretch between them.
'He's so clearly infatuated,' he thought, amused.
"If there's one thing I've learned from being around Fleur," Harry said at last, choosing to take pity on the nervous wreck in front of him, "it's that honesty usually works best. I spent ages worrying about what Fleur might think of me—the so-called half-formed champion of Hogwarts, nowhere near as polished as she is—but that was just needless anxiety. Turns out she has her own worries, and all she really wants is straightforward sincerity."
"So… I should just tell Hermione how I feel?" Neville asked, sounding both hopeful and terrified.
Harry's lips quirked in a reassuring smile. "I think that's exactly what you should do. She's not the sort who'd want a grand spectacle. And you know she respects directness."
Neville let out a breath, straightening a little. "Alright. Next time I see her, I'll muster the nerve."
He glanced at Harry, a hint of mirth entering his eyes. "By the way, you and Fleur have been the subject of endless gossip. Four months in, and you can find people still talking about it here and there."
Harry shrugged, though his cheeks warmed slightly. "Let them talk. We're happy, and that's what matters."
Neville grinned. "I think it's fantastic. You two seem so at ease. There's something… natural about the way you fit together. Almost makes it look easy."
Harry lowered his gaze with a modest smile. "She's Fleur, and I—well, I love her. She's not just a Veela. It's simpler than people think… once you get past all the assumptions."
A moment passed in companionable silence.
Neville cleared his throat, a thoughtful crease forming between his eyebrows. "Have you heard anything about the Quidditch pitch?" he asked.
Harry shook his head. "Not really. Why?"
"Word is it might be dismantled for the final Triwizard Task," Neville said, his voice lowered. "Dean overheard something about a huge setup—a maze, or something even bigger."
Harry's expression darkened. "A complete takedown? That sounds extreme. If it's true, they'd have to rebuild everything for Quidditch to resume."
Neville pressed his lips together in a resigned twist. "We'll know soon enough if the rumours are true."
Harry nodded, releasing a slow breath. "I miss flying. The rush you get from soaring above the stands… nothing quite compares to that feeling of freedom."
They lingered for a moment in the dusty glow of the classroom, and eventually, they gathered themselves and stepped back into the corridor, heading toward the Gryffindor common room.
Harry sensed Neville's nerves, though the boy carried a new resolve in his stride.
He'd be there to support Neville once he finally worked up the courage to approach Hermione, and hopefully, tease them when she'd accept.
Just then, they nearly collided with Colin Creevey, who was hurrying along, his camera swinging from his neck.
Breathless and bright-eyed, Colin blurted, "I've been looking everywhere for you two—almost tripped over someone's toad by the staircase!"
Neville stiffened. "My toad?"
Colin shook his head, pushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "I didn't stop to check, sorry. Anyway, have you heard? They're starting a brand-new Duelling Club! Professors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, along with Professor Flitwick, are organising it. They're calling it some sort of Tri-School Duelling Exchange. Sounds incredible!"
Harry's curiosity was piqued at once. "A real duelling club, officially sanctioned this time?"
Colin nodded enthusiastically. "Small groups, rotating partners, learning each school's techniques—everything from Durmstrang's silent casting to Beauxbatons' spell choreography. And of course, Flitwick's legendary duelling skills. I'm planning to sign up, take a load of pictures—just hopefully not get hexed in the process."
Neville, still looking worried about the toad situation, mustered a faint smile. "Better watch out before I start hexing you, Colin."
The younger boy laughed nervously and held up his hands in an apologetic gesture. "But really—I'm sure your toad is fine. I only saw it for a second before I hurried off."
Neville closed his eyes briefly, perhaps imagining a new misadventure in tracking down Trevor, but nodded.
Colin, evidently relieved that he wasn't about to be interrogated further, offered a hasty goodbye and dashed away down the corridor.
Harry and Neville watched him go, each thoughtful in his own way—Harry contemplating whether he'd participate in the new Club, and Neville no doubt planning his approach to Hermione.
The two Gryffindors silently made their way towards their common room.
Harry sank into the armchair nearest the fireplace, stretched his legs, and let out a contented sigh.
Neville was only a step behind, plopping onto a sofa in front of Harry.
The warmth from the crackling flames was a welcome comfort after their long walk through the corridors.
Neville kept fidgeting with the hem of his robes, his mind clearly on Hermione.
Not paying any attention to his friend, Harry fished a book out of his trusty pouch and started flipping through the pages, searching for his bookmark.
The quiet of the common room was broken only by the soft rustling of pages and the occasional crackle from the hearth.
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Spell Name:Venomous Eyes of the Serpent
Incantation:"Venenatus Oculis"
Effect: Venenatus Oculisgrants the caster the ability to see through illusions and invisibility for a period of fifteen minutes. Additionally, it allows the caster to perceive hidden magical auras and concealed objects, making it invaluable for uncovering deceit, detecting hidden enchantments, and navigating through magically obscured environments.
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'Talk about useless. I can just amp up my senses and achieve the same thing,' Harry thought, absently flipping to the next page.
He was currently going over the last of the few spell tomes that Salazar had on parselmagic.
Harry had long since figured that they could be a secret weapon of sorts, but he also guessed that since no one else cast spells in the noble tongue, he couldn'tcopythem from someone else.
'I shouldn't be complaining…' he thought, staring at the spell description. 'Being able to understand and cast a spell after just seeing it cast once is quite the cheat.'
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Spell Name:Ascendant Serpent of Light
Incantation:"Ascendare Luminae"
Effect:This spell summons a radiant serpent made of pure light that ascends into the air, illuminating dark areas and dispelling shadows. The Ascendant Serpent of Light can also serve as a guide, leading the caster through labyrinthine paths or darkened spaces with its unwavering glow.
Usage Instructions:To invoke the Ascendant Serpent of Light, the caster must visualise a luminous serpent rising gracefully, directing its magical flow upwards through a spiralling motion of the wand. The incantation should be spoken with a melodious, flowing tone that mirrors the serpent's elegant ascent.
Historical Context:Originating from the Illuminated Serpents sect; for more information seek the book 'Communities of the Serpent'.
This spell was traditionally used in sacred rituals and nighttime excursions. It symbolises enlightenment and the dispelling of ignorance, often employed during quests for knowledge or in times of spiritual seeking.
Cautionary Notes:The summoned serpent remains for only a short duration unless the caster sustains their concentration. Interruptions or distractions can cause the serpent to dissipate prematurely. Additionally, like the Patronus charm, it will immediately alert every dark creature in the near vicinity to your presence.
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"Now there's something mildly useful," Harry muttered and threw a glance towards the common room.
'Still empty.'
The students were still at the dinner.
Glancing at the spell's illustration, Harry imagined a glowing serpent rising from his wand, its body made of pure, silvery light that would illuminate the darkened corners of the room.
The image was clear in his mind: graceful, ethereal, and purposeful—almost sly—in its movements.
He flicked his wand into his hand and hissed in a sing-song tone which made Neville visibly recoil.
"Asscendare Luminae!"
Slowly, a faint shimmer began to materialise above his wand tip, and soon, the outline of a serpent started to take shape, its form gradually becoming more defined.
The serpent was composed entirely of luminous light, its scales reflecting a spectrum of colours that danced and shifted with every subtle movement.
Harry let his magical awareness free and was immediately bombarded by a plethora of sensations.
'I'm almost used to it,' he thought after a few seconds.
The constant stream of magical feedback had become almost second nature over the past months, though the initial overwhelming rush still caught him off guard at times.
'Maybe I should stop suppressing it altogether and see how long I last,' Harry thought and focused his attention on the brightening light.
Noting the imperfections of his forming magic, he cast the spell again, being much more precise with his intent.
"Assscendare Luminae," Harry repeated, dismissing the growing apparition, and creating a new one instead.
With a graceful motion, the serpent arched its body upward, its tail curling elegantly as it ascended towards the ceiling.
As it rose, the room was filled with a radiant light that pushed back the shadows, illuminating every corner with a warm, soothing brilliance.
The serpent's eyes, two bright orbs of azure, seemed to gleam with intelligence and purpose.
Harry couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the spell he had just cast.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he noticed something and frowned.
'Why does it look like Ash?' he thought, inadvertently talking through his soul channel.
The glowing serpent did bear an uncanny resemblance to his familiar, from the sleek curve of its head to the distinctive pattern of its scales. It was as if his magic had unconsciously shaped the light into a form he knew so well, though Ash was currently fast asleep in the chamber.
Or so he thought…
'My, my. It seemsss that Masster holdsss me in high regard,' Ash drawled all of a sudden.
Neville, who had been watching intently from the sofa, let out a low whistle. "That's impressive, Harry. I've never seen anything quite like it."
'Masster's magic is shaped by what he cherishes…' Ash's smugness was practically tangible.
Before Harry could respond to either of them, the serpent began to move, its form twisting and turning as if it were alive. It floated through the air, gracefully looping around the chandelier.
Neville stared at it, enthralled, while Harry watched with quiet satisfaction.
That was when a second voice joined his head, clear and melodious.
'Ash, your preening grows tiresome. A great many creatures occupy this castle—do not presume yourself the pinnacle of them all.'
'Not this again…'
'Look who decided to speak! I ssee you never miss an opportunity to crow your own ssuperiority, oh flaming buzzard…'
Despite being annoyed at the start of what was meant to be another long bickering session, Harry fought back a grin from forming on his face.
Neville, oblivious to the conversation going on in Harry's head, rose and circled around the floating serpent, hands clasped behind his back.
'Buzzard?' Fawkes repeated, sounding faintly offended. 'I should hope you could at least come up with something remotely clever. A phoenix stands for renewal, healing, and loyalty. We are not mere mortal creatures, locked in one form. You are nought but a serpent tethered to the earth—'
'Ha ha!' Ash laughed, voice full of serpentine pride. 'We do not sseek worthless rebirth, for we do not need to die in flame and ash to prove our value. We endure in our rightful power.'
Harry glanced at Neville, who was oblivious to the telepathic spat and simply peered at the magical serpent in fascination.
Harry stifled a weary sigh and rubbed his temple as Ash and Fawkes continued to trade barbed remarks, getting more vulgar by the sentence. Focusing on his occlumency, Harry slowly brought their conversation to a distant murmur.
Unbeknownst to him, the glowing serpent overhead, slowed its lazy circling and began to dim.
Neville took a cautious step back, blinking at the fading light.
"Is it—disappearing?" the boy asked, with the wide-eyed curiosity of someone who'd just witnessed real magic rather than the everyday spells taught in class.
Harry nodded and flicked his wand subtly to end the incantation.
The serpent dissolved in a whisper of light, leaving the two boys in the comforting glow of the fireplace once more.
"It doesn't last very long unless I keep up the focus," Harry explained with a shrug, closing the book around his finger. "Bit like a Patronus, I suppose."
Neville let out another soft whistle. "Definitely more impressive than a Patronus."
Harry gave a noncommittal hum and turned the page in his parselmagic tome, completely ignoring any more commentary from either Ash or Fawkes.
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Spell Name:Blade of the Serpent
Incantation:"Lamina Serpentia"
Effect:Conjures a slender, serpent-shaped blade from the caster's wand, formed of condensed magical energy. The blade retains the fluid agility of a serpent, allowing for agile swipes and lunges in close combat. When wielded properly, it can deflect minor spells and hexes, but crumbles to glittering dust if struck by powerful counter-curses.
Usage Instructions:
Focus on the concept of a coiled serpent poised to strike…
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'Another useless spell,' he thought, disappointed.
Harry found that most of the spells inside the tomes weren't of much use to him.
'I mean, a serpent-shaped blade would be one of the coolest things but, I don't even know how to hold a sword, let alone swing one…'
Harry continued reading the book and by the common room started filling up again, he had found only one useful spell.
However, it wasn't really the spell that interested him, but its effect.
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Spell Name:Reflected Light
Incantation:"Lumina Reflexa"
Effect:Creates a mirror-like barrier that reflects spells and light-based attacks back at the caster or towards a specified target…
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'Finally! I'll learn to batt away spells like that pink-haired woman and Dumbledore,' Harry thought, excited.
He got up from his chair, planning to make his way to the Sal's chamber and try the spell out.
'I'll need someone to cast spells at me,' Harry realised and turned to look back.
Noting Neville's nervous expression, he shook his head and decided to get Fleur instead.
'Right. Fleur. Wasn't I supposed to meet her at dinner?' Harry felt creeping guilt. 'Oh shit. I'm doomed.'
Suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of dread and fearing for the continuation of his existence, he rushed to the door.
"Harry, what's going on?" Neville shouted behind his back, but Harry didn't hear him.
He was about to push the portrait door open when it opened from the other side, and he bumped into Hermione.
"Right. Hello, Hermione. Neville's sitting right there on the sofa," Harry said quickly, pointing at the room's fireplace. "He also wants to tell you something really, really important. Don't leave without learning what."
Passing a thoroughly confused Hermione and ignoring her calls, Harry exploited every hidden passage he knew and arrived at the emptying Great Hall in record time.
Looking around frantically and receiving some odd looks because he was wheezing from exhaustion, his eyes finally landed on Fleur, who was sitting in the middle of the Gryffindor table, alone and obviously bored.
She was playing with her food…
Mustering all of his legendary Gryffindor courage, Harry slowly walked towards his girlfriend and tried to hopelessly calm his breathing.
Unluckily, he seemed to have caused a small commotion when he arrived at the hall, which drew her attention.
Her head snapped up, and those striking blue eyes fixed on him with a mixture of annoyance and something else.
Harry could already tell from the slight quirk of her eyebrow that he was in trouble.
Flashing her a charming smile, Harry gave her a slight bow.
"Fleur, je ne peux m'empêcher de remarquer à quel point tu brilles ce soir."
"Oh really? So I'm shining now, huh?"
"Ta présence illumine la pièce, comme une étoile dans la nuit sombre," Harry added quickly, seeing that his first compliment didn't have as much impact as he had hoped.
"Ah, a poet in distress. So original."
"Je suis désolé si je parais un peu émotif, mais tu es incroyablement inspirante," he said, almost lamely.
"Inspiring? Really? It's the first time I've heard someone trying so hard," Fleur replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Je suis juste émerveillé par ta beauté et ton intelligence," Harry murmured, pushing his French to its limits.
"Please, stop," she said with an exasperated groan, pressing her palm to her forehead.
He realised, perhaps belatedly, that his flustered attempt at French flattery was doing more to highlight his desperation than to placate her.
With as much dignity as he could muster, he sank onto the bench beside her and tried to calm his ragged breathing.
The lingering, inquisitive gazes from the last few students finishing dinner only added to his discomfort.
"I'm sorry," he said, reverting back to English, softly enough that no one else could hear. "I got a bit… caught up."
Fleur's eyes flickered with annoyance, though her features softened a fraction. "Clearly. You're panting like you've just sprinted a marathon."
Harry made a face. "In my defence, I practically did. I ran across half of Hogwarts. I lost track of time."
That slender eyebrow rose again, and Fleur lowered her hand from her forehead. "Lost track, or forgot entirely?"
He bristled, but her tone wasn't quite as icy as before—she was at least willing to hear his explanation. Taking a steadying breath, Harry shifted closer, conscious of the hush that fell around them.
He reached for the plate in front of her, where she'd barely touched her food. "Hungry?"
She gave a slight shrug, though the tension in her posture was less severe now. "I was… but I lost my appetite."
He bowed his head in contrition. "I'm sorry," he repeated, more sincerely this time. "Neville needed some advice, and then I got caught up reading—"
At Fleur's pointed look, Harry grimaced. "Yes, reading. I know, it's unexpected, but I promise it was important. I found a new defensive spell I want to try."
Her expression shifted, curiosity briefly overtaking her annoyance. "Defensive? Do you mean more snakes?"
Harry couldn't help a quick grin. "No. Something much better. I was actually going to ask you for help—thought you could help me test it."
"Sure, 'arry. I'd love to test your defensive spell," she stated innocently.
Harry swallowed hard, suddenly wondering if asking for her help had been the wisest decision.
The glint in her eyes suggested she might take a bit too much pleasure in testing his defensive capabilities. Still, he reasoned, 'It's better to let Fleur get me with a spell or two and cool off.'
He noticed Fleur's lips twitch in what might have been a reluctant smile. "But next time, do me the courtesy of telling me you'll be late. I do not enjoy sitting alone, feeling like a fool." Her voice held the faintest quiver that betrayed her frustration.
Harry's guilt surged anew. "You're right. I really am sorry… I'll make it up to you. Promise."
She regarded him for a moment longer, then gave a slow nod. "I'll make sure of it."
Harry swallowed hard again, contemplating fleeing from his fiery girlfriend.
He passed her a jug of pumpkin juice, which she accepted with a small, regal dip of her head.
For a short while, they fell into a comfortable silence, the clatter of cutlery and the soft hum of conversation around them reminding Harry just how hungry he was.
'Huh. Nev's probably hungry as well,' he realised and piled a few bites onto his own plate, his stomach rumbling in gratitude.
They remained like that for a few seconds—Harry eating in companionable silence, Fleur nibbling at a bread roll, her manicured fingers picking delicately at the crust.
Despite the swirl of students finishing their meals and milling about, a small cocoon of relative privacy enveloped them.
Finally, Fleur relented and began to eat a bit more. Her posture eased as she sampled the shepherd's pie and took a second helping of juice.
Harry let out a silent breath of relief, sensing the last of her annoyance ebb away.
That's why, when she suddenly frowned, she caught him off guard.
"Something happened earlier that I wanted to tell you," Fleur said, and Harry looked at her inquiringly.
"I'll tell you later. We'll go down again, I presume?" she asked, pointing at the remaining students.
Harry gave her a nod and looked at her to make sure that she was okay.
"Don't worry. Nothing bad happened," she assured him with a small smile.
Knowing there was nothing more he could do, Harry returned to his—or rather Fleur's—plate.
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HAPPY VALENTINES TO THOSE OF YOU WHO AREN'T SINGLE!
AND if you are single for whatever reason, it's never too late to go grab that crush of yours...!
[d=i=s=c=o=r=d=.=g=g/NJ3WV9RVgR]
[p=atreon=.=c=o=m/Mr_0ne] or do a Google search of'p=atreon Fake Violinist'.
Chapter 31: Duels of Intention
Chapter 32: A Horcrux and a Mistake?
Chapter 33: The adorable and the arrogant