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Mystique Soldier Ch.17
🕑 Added 2022-03-18 18:21:25 +0000 UTCDisclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 17—Dueling and Quidditch
AN: This chapter was Beta'd by Sedition. The guy was an incredible help in vital places, so huge gratitude to him.
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The tryouts for the Junior Dueling Tournament were held in the Great Hall. All the house tables were removed for the occasion, instead replaced by a long elevated platform placed in the center, leaving ample space on both sides for the Audience to sit and watch. Over the platform hung a sea of lit up candles, their glow just powerful enough to light up the platform without detracting the audience’s vision, creating an adequate ambiance for both the duelists and their spectators.
Even though it was early afternoon, the Great Hall would've been dark without the candles, as the only window—the large one behind the staff-stage—was blocked with curtains to prevent its rays from distracting the duelers.
As soon as Harry and his party walked in, he was greeted with a familiar set of texts.
Quest [A Terror with a Wand I] in Progress!
- Start your journey into the world of Dueling by qualifying for the Junior Dueling Tournament ( )
- Qualify in the 1st round ( )
- Qualify without losing Health ( )
After a quick glance, he dismissed it.
Some forty or so students were gathered around the platform, a few still trickling in through the entrance. They were all from first years, and stood in four groups according to their houses. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff stood to one side of the platform, while the other two houses stood opposite them.
He tried peeking over to his sister but the Slytherins were standing at the opposite corner, the farthest from the Gryffindors.
"Who's gonna run our tryouts, you reckon?" Ron asked, squinting at the doors.
Their group came to stand at the very back, almost touching the wall. Though curiously, Hermione was making a conscious effort to not appear a part of their group...while still standing close enough to act like she was.
She most likely wanted to leave, Harry wagered, but knew she had nowhere to go.
"Professor Lupin, of course." The bushy haired girl still answered. "While Professor Flitwick is a dueling champion, we didn’t give our names to him."
"I'm fine with either, honestly." Andrea cut in. "Both are great teachers."
"I-I just hope it's not Snape." Neville shuddered, his voice quiet and squeaky as a mouse. "I don't even know why I'm here. Everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."
Harry frowned, glancing at the boy. As far he knew, the boy was one of the strongest in their class.
Neville Longbottom
Age: 11
Level: 12
Reputation: Liked
Affection: 75
Mana: 310/310
Health: 80/80
Stamina: 68/80
Neville was the only first year to be over level 10, except for him and Rose. Even in that, only 4 other kids were at level 10; Andrea, Susan, Greengrass, and surprisingly, Malfoy.
The problem wasn't with Neville. It was with his wand.
Ash Wand
Wood: Ash
Core: Unicorn tail hair
Compatibility: 36%
Loyalty: 3
Versatility: 3
Power: 5
The wand’s match with Neville was worse than anything Harry had ever seen. Even his first wand was more compatible with him than this.
It truly was a sad sight. A powerful wizard like Neville, limited by the shackles he willingly wore.
A groan from Ron—and a few other students—took his attention, and he turned to see what the commotion was.
Their teachers had finally arrived; Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. While Remus was a welcome sight for many, almost all the Gryffs were disgruntled by Snape’s presence.
But not him. Both were competent and strong wizards, as far as Harry was concerned.
As per tradition, he and Snape exchanged a mutual sneer of hatred before ignoring each other completely.
Remus walked up to the stage, clapping once to get their attention. "All of you are here? Good, good. Let's start immediately.”
He came to stand at the platform’s center, eyes taking all the present students. “The tournament follows the system of elimination—or knockout if you’re familiar with it—where the loser of each match-up is eliminated immediately. There will be over 128 students competing, 98 of which have already been selected from second and third years."
"Which," Snape cut in. "for those dunderheads who failed to comprehend, means only thirty of you will be given a chance to compete. There are forty present amongst you, thus ten of you are unwanted. Which is why we have these tryouts, to clear those few who should rather have stayed in thei–"
"Thank you, Professor Snape. I'll take it from here." Remus interrupted, polite but firm.
Snape stilled, cold eyes shifting to Remus as he drolled in his trademark silky voice, "Of course."
"Your match-ups have been randomized.” Remus continued, unbothered. “I will call your names and you will present yourself on stage to duel your opponent. The winners of the first round will get a direct entry into the tournament so don't hold back or try to save energy for your later fights. First, may I call upon— Dean Thomas of Gryffindor, and Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin!"
Harry observed them both as they climbed onto the stage.
Dean Thomas
Age: 11
Level: 9
Pansy Parkinson
Age: 11
Level: 8
Harry leaned forward, curious to see his classmates’ skill. He paid barely any attention to them in classes, ignoring them entirely once he assessed their threat level.
Hence he was quite interested to see how they will utilize the spells in their repertoire. According to Snape, many a talented wizard could learn powerful magic, but only a few of them could ever hope to use it in a fight.
While they’ve only had about eight lessons of DADA and Dueling in the whole two weeks, Harry was hoping to learn whatever little he could from these tryouts.
So it came as quite an unpleasant shock when the participants struggled to fire even a single spell off of their wands.
They traced the entire wand movements slowly and steadily, each pronouncing their spells loud and clear, until finally, Dean shot off a bright 'Lumos' blinding Parkinson momentarily. 'Shot off' was quite generous. In actuality, the spell just lit his wand up, but Parkinson—who was staring directly at it—flinched away at the sudden flash to clutch her eyes, dropping her wand in the process.
As far as fights go, this may just have been one of the most pathetic ones out of all he’d laid witness to in a long, long time.
Remus sighed and called the match in Dean's favour.
Harry sighed and sat down on the floor, realizing he may have overestimated his classmates a little too much.
The next fifteen minutes passed in excruciating boredom. The only entertaining matchup in all this time came when Terry boot from Ravenclaw (Lvl 9), went up against Millicent Bulstrode of Slytherin (Lvl 7).
The boy successfully shot off 'Rictusempra', making Millicent bend over in laughter. But instead of surrendering, the girl ran towards a terrified Terry—laughing all the while from his spell’s effect—and rammed into him like a crazed bull. Only Remus's well timed intervention stopped the giant girl from pounding the ever loving shit out of the much smaller boy.
The next interesting matchup came when Susan Bones (Lvl 10) went up against Theodore Nott of Slytherin (Lvl 9)
Excited whispers ensued all around him as the two participants took the correct dueling position, standing sideways with their wands held in front.
Susan was a touch faster than her opponent and managed to get off a quick knockback jinx before Nott could finish casting.
But the boy didn't move, nor did he interrupt his spell. Calm and unhurried, he simply leaned to one side and let the flash of light pass overhead.
Then, he finished tracing the wand movement and bellowed, 'Tarantallegra!’
It was clear both the duelists had some prior training as the girl repeated the same maneuver, leaning to a side and letting the spell pass over her.
"Rictusempra!" She bellowed next.
The dance went on for well over a minute, with both standing stationary—simply moving their upper body, until Susan managed to aim her next spell at Nott's hip. Instinctively, the boy leaned away again—not realizing the spell’s new target until it was too late—and took a knockback jinx to the thighs, flipping through the air before dropping back down.
"Well done, both of you! Splendid performance!" Remus cried out with a wide smile. "And don't worry Mr. Nott. You will have another chance to get a position in the tournament. Now off you go."
"Next we have..." Remus stopped for a second, his eyes moving to settle upon him with subtle gravitas. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."
Truly, the fates were being quite cruel to Malfoy.
Though the boy didn't look nervous. No, if anything he had a determined, if slightly malicious, glint in his eyes, appearing quite eager for the match as he climbed up hurriedly.
Harry felt a flicker of curiosity but pushed it down, not willing to set himself up for further disappointment. Unless the boy brought out a machine gun as a secret Hydra recruit—in which case Harry will make himself scarce, Hogwarts be damned—the chances of this fight being anything but boringly one-sided were next to nil.
Harry climbed up the stage as well, absently raising a hand in acknowledgement to Ron and Andrea's good luck.
"Kick his arse, brother!" A familiar voice yelled out from the back of the crowd.
"Silence!" Snape yelled right back.
"Wands up!" Remus instructed, and their wands came to attention. "Bow of respect."
Harry bowed, while Malfoy smirked.
"Aaaand...Start!"
"Stupefy." Harry whispered, his wand slashing through the air.
But being level 37, the red stunner shot off on the first syllable ‘Stu’ itself.
“Serp—!”
The spell reached his opponent before he could do anything more than open his mouth, hitting him squarely on the chest, the force throwing him a few meters away with a thud.
A stunned silence ensued, as the crowd took in the unmoving body of Draco Malfoy with uncomprehending eyes.
“...Well,” Remus stared with wide eyes, brows creasing up slightly. “…I believe we have our winner.”
He shook his head, moving past his stupor. “Please give a round of applause for the fastest win of the day to…Harry Potter!”
And so they did.
Quest [A Terror with a Wand I] Completed!
- Start your journey into the world of Dueling by qualifying for the Junior Dueling Tournament (X)
- Qualify in the 1st round (X)
- Qualify without losing Health (X)
Rewards: 500 XP
The rest of the matches went swimmingly for his group...bar Neville. Ron (Lvl 9) won against Wayne Hopkins of Hufflepuff (Lvl 8), having practiced some of the spells beforehand. The boy may not be able to do as well as him in studies, but he tried his best.
Apparently he feared Harry would dump him for someone smarter if he couldn’t keep up.
Andrea on the other hand, was a shade better than her sister in dueling, dominating Sue Li of Ravenclaw (Lvl 9) quite thoroughly. Hermione won against Goyle— also the lowest leveled first year at level 6.
Unfortunately, Padma Patil (Lvl 9) wiped the floor with Neville, making him the only one from their group to not qualify.
His midget twin knocked out Michael Corners of Ravenclaw (Lvl 9), and most of her friends were able to qualify for the tournament as well.
Out of the thirty participants that were needed for the tournament, twenty were chosen in the first round itself. The remaining ten were to be chosen from the twenty students who’d lost. They were pitted against each other, and the winners entered the tournament alongside them.
One of the ten winners ended up being Malfoy, who managed to knock off Wayne Hopkins to make the list. As did Nott, whose bumbling opponent, Crabbe, resigned by himself.
"Brother!" His midget twin called out as they were dismissed for the evening, scurrying towards him—uncaring of whoever was unfortunate enough to come in her way. “I passed as well!”
She came to a stop in front of him, staring at him with wide eyes, waiting to be praised.
Harry raised his brows. “I would’ve been quite disappointed had you not, after everything I’ve done to prepare you.”
The girl stamped down her foot unhappily. “But I won almost as fast as you! That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”
She grinned up at him cheekily.
“It does.” Harry nodded, staying silent for a second before speaking. “…You did well.”
Her eyes widened, staring at him uncomprehendingly for a second, the cheeky smile slowly dropping off.
She stood there unmoving; mouth wide open, eyes trembling bewildered, only coming back into herself when Harry snapped his fingers in front of her face impatiently.
Shaking her head, she chuckled awkwardly. “T-thanks!”
Harry frowned. ‘Wasn’t she fishing for compliments? Or did I misunderstand something?’
He was beginning to understand more about children, and people in general, but some things were still alien to him.
One of those things was his sister.
"W-well,” She started, fumbling for words. “…Are you going to join your house's quidditch team?"
Her change of subject was neither subtle nor smooth, and she flushed further when he raised a brow.
Nonetheless, he nodded. "I will indeed. Our try-outs are to be held tomorrow evening. The Gryffindor captain has booked the field for us, I believe."
"Well... that's great! But I'm going to be Slytherin's Seeker too. So we'll be against each other...not fair!"
"I never said I was trying out for the Seeker's position." Harry replied, letting a small smirk curve up his lips. "Perhaps being a Beater is more suitable for me..."
The girl's face paled rapidly, forgetting all about her earlier weirdness. "...Oh."
Harry snorted. "Relax, you. While I can’t say anything for your teammates, you shall have nothing to fear.”
He patted her head.
Can’t have a competent minion with broken limbs after all.
The girl stared at her shoes. "...I s’pose."
He grunted, waving her goodbye. His sister was being a little too weird for his taste today.
Now all that was left was tomorrow’s tryouts, and Harry was hoping for an even better quest.
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The next day, Harry made for the pitch with Ron and Andrea at his side. Neville wasn't willing to be anywhere near a broom again, while Hermione didn't wish to spend any more time with them than necessary.
Harry briefly wondered what was stopping her from going full solo, but realized she most likely did not wish to spend the rest of her time in Hogwarts alone. Not that being around them seemed to give her any peace or satisfaction.
Quest [A Terror in the Skies I] in Progress!
- Start your journey into the world of flying by entering the Quidditch Cup ( )
- Win a position in Gryffindor Quidditch team ( )
- Score the highest in any test ( )
- Win with a dominating performance ( )
- Win without conflict or oppositions ( )
Harry dismissed the message, his eyes focusing elsewhere.
The quidditch pitch was a gigantic piece of land, almost double the size of a football field and covered in well-maintained grass that he wagered would be soft to his feet.
James wasn't lying when he said their pitch was much smaller in comparison. The group of students who currently occupied its center looked like grains of neatly stacked rice on a large plate, all standing in multiple lines with their brooms in hand. Around 25-30 hopefuls, from first years to a sixth year, were present for a chance at making the team.
"Are they not your brothers?" Harry elbowed Ron. The twins stood away from the rest, making their own group with two other girls.
"Oh yeah. Fred and George. You met them on the train, remember? They are Gryffindor’s Beaters currently and I doubt that's going to change any time soon. They're bloody good with a bat."
"So, what position are you guys going for?" Andrea asked.
Ron hesitated for a second before shrugging uncomfortably. "Maybe substitute Keeper. Or Chaser. I'll take any position the team needs. What about you two?"
"Chaser." Andrea answered at once, before pointing at him. "Though with this guy over here I doubt our chances are good."
Harry shrugged. "Perhaps you will replace an older student?"
"Nah, mate. No chance." Ron shook his head. "My brothers’ positions are fixed, and so is the captain's. Then there's Johnson and Spinnet, both Gryffindor veterans who've been playing for two years. No way is Wood gonna break their partnership. Our only chance is the remaining Chaser spot or go directly for the Seeker."
Andrea bumped him slightly. "You go for seeker, I'll go for Chaser. Deal?"
"And what am I?” Ron huffed irritably. “Chopped liver?"
"Well...you can be a reserve keeper right?"
Ron didn't get the chance to answer as the Gryffindor captain finally arrived.
Oliver Wood
Age: 15
Level: 30
Oliver Wood was a large, burly fifth year, who seemed to have a commanding presence on the pitch. Everyone instantly went silent as soon as he joined them.
"Alright, listen up!" The boy snapped, his eyes staring at them with a disturbingly bright fervor. "I want all of you to divide yourselves into three groups! Those who want to tryout for Chasers, come to my right. Those who wants to take a shot at Keeper, to my left. And the Seekers stand in front of me. We will be doing this one at a time, so no crowding over here."
“Well?” Andrea looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.
Ron, on the other hand, suddenly became a ball of wrecked nerves.
"I'm going for the Chaser." Andrea finally announced, separating away from them to join in with over half of the crowd at Wood's side.
"Mate...I don't think I can do this." Ron whispered with a growing despair.
Harry turned to him with a frown. "What do you mean?"
"I mean...What if I give the worst performance out of everyone?" He fretted, shuffling on his feet. "Bloody hell mate, I don't even know where I'll fit in! I should just go back..."
“…So, not being sure of your skill makes you give up entirely?” Harry tilted his head, trying to understand the boy. “Wouldn’t that be an excellent reason to take this test instead? To see where you truly belong? Even should you prove to be the worst, at least you will be more certain of where you stand the next time.”
Ron stopped shuffling, but his eyes still held that frustrated despair. “But what if I’m completely rubbish at this?”
Harry frowned. “Then next time you’ll know not to try in the first place.”
Ron’s shoulder flopped down, even more discouraged. “…Thanks, mate.”
“Or, you can train and improve yourself later.” Harry shrugged. “But not trying will keep you uncertain for a long time. Simply competing for a spot will put you ahead of all the rest in our class. You can always try again next year, but at least you will have some experience after today.”
That did not make him any more confident but he did seem to have calmed considerably. “…Yeah, at least I’m not like Dean and Seamus, not even bothering to try. And I’m a firstie anyway, no one expects me to be actually good. Even Charlie didn’t become the Seeker in his first year.”
Then with a last shaky nod, he joined the keeper's section.
‘That…was not what I meant, was it?’ Harry couldn’t be certain. Whenever it came to emotions, his words were often misunderstood.
He was also beginning to understand that truth may not always be preferable to some.
To some….truth may be more hurtful than lies. A concept Harry couldn’t quite wrap his head around. But with Sage’s help, he was sure he would eventually.
He sensed a presence creeping up behind him a moment before it called out, "Harry Potter?"
Harry turned around to see their captain walking towards him.
"Madam Hooch says you're the best flyer she'd witnessed in a long while." The boy said with no preamble, a manic glint in his eyes as he scanned him up and down. "Hmmm...tall and agile, might fit in any position but we'll have to see. Oh, I'm Oliver Wood by the way. Nice to meet you."
The boy gave him an enthusiastic handshake.
"You are trying for the Seeker right?” He didn’t wait for Harry to confirm. “Good, good. We haven't had a competent Seeker since Charlie Weasley left. Suffered the biggest defeat in Gryffindor’s history last year, and that too at the hands of Slytherin. Can you imagine that? That won’t be happening this time. And I have a feeling that you, Harry Potter, might be playing a very big role in this."
"I'm sure I will." Harry stepped back from the guy a little, smiling politely.
The way he talked reminded Harry of many an addict roaming the slums of New York.
"Nice. Very good. Positive energy, I like it." The boy gave him a thumbs up. "Now let's go. I want to be done with tryouts as soon as possible. Any time we're not practicing is wasted time. Can't let that happen on my watch."
The tryouts proceeded till late in the evening, with the sun barely supporting them with its last bit of rays by the time they were over.
First was the audition of Keepers. From the start Harry got the feeling that Wood was just doing this one out of courtesy and didn't really have any interest at finding a second Keeper. The test for this one was simple— players simply had to save penalty shots.
There were five students hoping to impress Wood, including Ron, and each took turns at the test. The first boy, one Cormac McLaggen of 2nd year, saved 3 out of 5 shots. Cormac looked comfortable on his broom but his small body couldn't cover all three hoops, thus missing two shots by mere fingers length.
Unfortunately, he was also the one with the highest score out of all five participants. Ron saved a single goal, though more out of luck than anything else. It wasn’t that he was unskilled, it was simply his inexperience combined with an ancient broom that limited his talent.
Then again, at least he saved something, unlike the 2nd year who missed all the shots.
Harry half-expected himself to have another talk with the boy. But instead of looking dejected, Ron skipped towards him with a smile as soon as he was on the ground, his broom held overhead in jubilation.
"I did it!" He cheered. "You were right mate. I didn't do it well, but hey, at least I tried!"
"So you did." Harry nodded. "Now let's see how Andrea does."
The Chasers selection was the next one, and Wood was taking this with much more gravitas. The participants were first made to race against each other. So all twelve of them mounted the brooms and off they went in a burst of speed.
"Oh she's got that in the bag." Ron muttered, looking envious. "That Nimbus is a game changer, innit? Not that she isn't good herself."
Indeed, Andrea was winning the race. But not by the massive margin that Harry had been expecting. In fact, the girl in second place looked a shade more skilled on a broom than Andrea. But her Cleansweep Seven was... simply outmatched. The fact that she was almost able to keep up with Andrea was a testament to her own riding skills.
When the riders finally came to a stop by Wood, Harry quickly observed her.
Katie Bell
Age: 12
Level: 15
Reputation: Liked
Affection: 73
Mana: 410/410
Health: 80/80
Stamina: 64/90
One of his eyebrows rose up involuntarily. Her affection was almost equal to Neville, yet he did not remember saving her life multiple times.
“Where’s he going?” Ron muttered beside him.
Harry glanced to the side as Wood left the participants to discuss with his teammates. They all formed a circle, leaning their heads in to whisper furiously, seemingly disagreeing about something.
"Think they're stuck deciding between Andrea and that girl?" Ron asked.
"Most likely."
Finally Wood came back again in a jog, looking mightily impatient.
Andrea and Katie then took turns playing with the real Gryffindor team—without a Seeker, of course—performing various exercises ranging from passing a quaffle to shooting in the hoops. Andrea was more experienced, but Katie was a natural rider. They were almost equal in the statistics of successful passes and goals.
In the end, Wood decided to bring both of them in the team, with the intention of playing them alternately while keeping the other one in reserves.
Finally—after everything else was done and the sun was weak—came the turn for the Seekers section.
"Good luck, mate." Ron said. "You probably don't need it, but you know...just in case."
Harry gave him a nod before marching towards Wood, his Nimbus in hand.
"Alright, you lot." Wood started, staring at the five people present. "Your job is simple; find as many of these enchanted balls—" He held up a small golden golf ball. "—as possible. They aren't real snitches but they'll get the job done."
He waved his wand down to the side and intoned. "Tempus."
6:15.
"Thirty minutes. That's all the time you'll get to collect these balls. There are over sixty of these spread around the field and their flight enchantment will end sooner or later. So be sure to look in every corner. Now off you go!"
Harry didn't need any further prodding.
He swung himself over his broom and was off in a blast of air. Almost immediately however, he was in his own world.
For a brief time, he forgot all about the tryouts, all about the quest. Only the cool windy breeze held his attention, his heart beating in the most erratic of ways as he soared through the skies, eyes closed and chest warm.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw not the fearsome distance to the ground, but the infinite horizons in the setting sky, free to be explored and experienced. Cherished and remembered.
He found himself laughing, feeling unconfined from his shackles. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed.
The almost surreal moment was broken by a golden glint however, and he reluctantly let himself remember his goal.
‘The wannabe-snitches.’
While the evening may be perfect for some relaxing time, it was the exact opposite for finding two-inch wide balls all across the three dimensions. Thankfully these golden flying spheres glinted quite visibly, and even before his broom reached its top speed, Harry was already racing after the one he’d spotted.
Its cute little wings fluttered like a hummingbird as it tried to escape—reminding Harry of his midget twin for some reason.
While it was a little challenging to keep track of the tiny thing in the growing darkness, it was still nothing compared to a real golden snitch.
He knew this from experience.
The true snitches were much more unpredictable in their flight path. These weren't. Which was why Harry was able to clamp onto it after just a short chase.
One down, many more to go.
One of his competitor was the sixth year boy he'd seen earlier. The boy sped past him with determination, clearly having spotted a snitch.
Instead of looking one for himself, Harry decided to compete with the boy. He chased after the sixth year, quickly catching up with his Nimbus until they were shoulder to shoulder.
The older boy glanced at Harry in irritation, but Harry’s attention was straight ahead, having finally spotted the golden bugger as it danced through the air.
"That's mine." The older boy snarled suddenly, trying to bump him away.
A massive mistake.
Harry grabbed the older boy's shoulder and held him in place.
“Wha—!?” The gasp was barely out of him when Harry threw him away.
The senior student was blown back, a startled scream eliciting from his mouth as he spun through the air.
The rest was a foregone conclusion, and Harry won his second golden ball after a brief chase.
But he didn't wish to waste a single second. Not only was he having the most fun in a long long time, there was something within him today that just didn’t want to stop. So he sped up in search of another flying ball.
Also, while he genuinely believed he faced no true competition right now, he still didn't wish to be overconfident.
He was ignorant about the capabilities of his competitors, so there was always a possibility that he may not be the most skilled flier here.
Thus, he decided to give his absolute best. And his absolute best was usually more than enough.
By the time Wood finally called them down, Harry doubted there was a single spot on the field that wasn't visited by him in the past 30 minutes.
Quest [A Terror in the Skies I] Completed!
- Start your journey into the world of flying by entering the Quidditch Cup (X)
- Win a position in Gryffindor Quidditch team (X)
- Score the highest in any test (X)
- Win with a dominating performance (X)
- Win without conflict or oppositions (—)
Rewards: 800 XP
"Excellent work, Harry!" Wood exclaimed, excitement clear on his face. "And welcome to the team. There's no need to even count them, everyone knows who won."
Harry did not reply, his attention elsewhere. And even the system msg couldn't break him out of it.
There was some grumbling from the other four participants but only one had the balls to speak up.
"Yeah, right." The sixth year brat spat. "Winning with money..."
Wood turned to the boy with a frown. "Got anything to say, McLaggen?"
"Yes, I do." The senior student hissed, taking a step forward threateningly.
The rest of Gryffindor’s team jogged towards them quickly, looking worried at the confrontation. "He won just because his dad's rich and cause he's Harry bloody Potter."
Harry was feeling incredibly disappointed at ending one of the most satisfying experiences he’s ever had, only to be met by…this. His blood was scorching and heart on fire, his entire being was still holding onto the recent rush of freedom and excitement, not wanting the ever-present hollowness and calm to take hold again.
He felt just like he had back in the days following his escape from Hydra; free, defiant, uncontrollable, uncontainable.
And all of this he’d achieved by himself.
“If he’s actually so good, he shouldn’t need his Nimbus to win.”
And this…insect, was trying to disabuse of that notion…
"Must be tough,” Harry turned to the boy slowly, an overly mocking smirk curving on his face; cold and malicious, as he felt his restraints slipping. “being so pathetic that you look for reasons to excuse your own failures."
The boy whirled around, boring down on him. "Watch your mouth, Potter!”
Harry let out an ugly laugh, loud and goading, his blood demanding confrontation, wanting to feel the rush again, wanting to remember the power that came with ending a life. "What will you do about it? Nothing. Go cry in your pillows and sob about how unfair the world is, you whiny little prick."
His taunts worked perfectly and the older boy reared up at him with an enraged curse, a hand going for his wand.
"McLaggen, get back you–"
Harry didn’t use magic. No, only the close-up physical fight could provide him what he was looking for.
Wood's startled yell was cut short when Harry suddenly surged towards the bigger boy and planted his knee directly in his stomach, hard. He felt a physical shift in his opponent’s midriff and knew he’d done some damage.
‘Still got it.’ But his blood was still pumping hot, not quite touching the level of his recent broom-ride, but more excited than it had ever been since coming to Hogwarts.
His opponent went down with an agonized scream, instantly curling up on the spot. Vomit spewed out of his mouth—along with blood, indicating internal bleeding—drenching his shirt and face in filth.
‘Kill him!’ His blood roared, tasting the familiar rush of emotions, the sweet satisfaction of delivering death. Of causing pain and embracing the emotions.
He was ready to end the boy then. Ready to taste the life he was almost beginning to believe he’d left behind.
Only in the last moment did he slam the Gamer’s mind on, managing to hold himself back significantly; his greed for power still being higher than the need for indulging his heightened emotions. And getting kicked out of Hogwarts would set him back a lot.
So the stomp that was meant to completely rearrange the boy’s skull only broke his nose with a wet crunch, his boot landing soft and accurate.
In the aftermath, he was left standing over an unmoving body, with his Gamer’s Mind eliminating any signs of satisfaction that he’d been hoping to feel.
So he simply stared down at the boy’s bloodied face, cold and detached. “That was…unnecessary.”
He should not have lost control.
It had begun with the broom-ride, he could see that now. The slipping of control, slowly but surely as he let himself indulge.
Perhaps growing used to emotions was not working as well as he'd thought. He may have to take a break and use Sage to examine himself.
Stumbling from an objective could prove deadly to his future. And his objective was to scourge the corners of this castle to learn everything he could.
He cannot afford to fail so early in his quest.
"Holy...smokes." Wood muttered beside him. "What the hell Harry..."
Wood's incredulity was matched by the rest of the Gryffindor’s team who finally arrived.
"Fred, are my eyes deceiving me?"
"I don't know George, would you like me to test them?"
"Yes, pleas– Ouch! How does pinching my arm test my eyes?"
"Well, it lets me know this is reality and now I can confirm that we really are seeing Harry Potter standing over a bloody McLaggen, beaten half to death."
"Oh that makes sense, Fred. Could you do it agai– Ouch! Thanks. Now I can really believe it."
Down on the ground, McLaggen moaned out something.
"Did you hear him, George?"
"I did, brother dear."
"What did he say?"
"Moaaahhh."
Harry stared at the two. "Perhaps you two should take him to the hospital wing?"
"...D-Did Harry Potter just command us to do something?" One of the twin stuttered out, both looking at him with wide eyes.
“I have indeed.” Harry arched a brow. “Take this boy to the hospital wing.”
They both bowed down in sync.
"Of course, your Holiness!
"By your Will, your Majesty!"
"Your wish is my command!"
"And mine too!"
Then they proceeded to drag McLaggen like a sack of potatoes. All the while the three girls and Andrea stared at the scene in utter bewilderment, and not a little horror whenever their eyes fell on the ground that McLaggen vacated.
"Don't worry, Harry." Finally Wood spoke up. "You did nothing wrong. He attacked you first, you were quite right to give him a bloody beating. I just didn't know you will be so...viol–"
"Strong." One of the girls cut in, before realizing everyone was staring at her. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I mean...we can make you a reserve beater too. If something happens to Fred or George, you know?"
"That’s a good idea, Angie." Wood said, looking at him with a calculating gaze.
"Harry, mate!" Ron came running towards them. "I saw what happened."
Harry nodded back, swishing his wand to summon back his Nimbus with his own brand of telekinesis.
Ron took a second to catch his breath before shooting him an awed smile. "You really like beating rich poncy kids, eh? First Malfoy, now McLaggen."
“I do not select my enemies.” Harry turned away. “They simply keep forming on their own.”
Their day ended soon after, with Wood declaring to train harder than ever this year. And of course, the whole team was included in his declaration. So they were strictly told to be present on the quidditch pitch at six in the morning, four days a week, no excuses allowed.
Now that he was done with tryouts for both the tournaments, Harry had another job waiting for him. It was Wednesday when he received the letter from James. Its contents? Places that belonged to the four founders.
Now was the time for some Dungeon hunting.
------------------------------------
AN: And done! Sorry for the slight delay but I was editing the chapter till the last few minutes. Hope it was enjoyable!
Now, one of the things I'm worried about is Harry. His confrontation with McLaggen, specifically. Did it feel too unnatural? I wanted to show the more darker parts of him, to show that no, his calm life may be healing him but he isn't a normal 11 year old. And he will most likely never be.
I polished the scene at the last second, using my beta's advices, but I feel like I could've done a much better job with more time and more advices lol. Still, as long as it's not jarring or out of place, I'm fine with it. Also, while I want to show a dark complex Harry, I DO NOT want him to turn into an edgy mess. So if it felt like that, do let me know.
Now that I think about it, both of my Harrys are a little fucked in the head aren't they? Lol. Oh well, they'll be fine. After a while, I mean.
Anyway, that's all for today. Hope the chapter was enjoyable. If so, leave a like on it and I'll see you all tomorrow.
Till then, have a good day/night, and peace!
Comments
Creature of Grimm
the way you wrote it sounds a little like he was on an adrenalin high, and considering what he used to do when his adrenalin was pumping, his mind and body would instantly fall into old habits.
Robs511
Yea I did a hasty job in it. Maybe I'll edit it later idk.
Ouki's Lips
Yep, Harry's over-reaction seemed a bit out of place because there was no build-up. Obviously Harry has PTSD, but he wasn't displaying many of the other symptoms. Or rather, because he spent so much time in SHIELD his symptoms were hidden within his training and missions. But this is the first time he displayed any obvious symptoms of PTSD since he arrived in Hogwarts
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