Chapter 68: 68 A Letter
Holly and Hermione sat across from Harry in the Gryffindor common room, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. The first task was not even a day ago. Harry had barely spoken since returning from the arena, but the look in his eyes was unmistakable. It was a mixture of pride and exhilaration that neither of the girls had ever seen in him.
"Harry, you don't have to do this," Hermione said, her voice gentle but firm. She leaned forward, her hands clasped in front of her, eyes full of concern. "Lucas gave up for a reason. He saw how dangerous this tournament is, and he's right. It's not worth risking your life over."
Holly nodded in agreement. "She's right, Harry. What you did out there was amazing, but it doesn't mean you have to keep going. You've already proven yourself. No one would think less of you if you stepped down now."
Harry looked between them, his heart still racing from the thrill of the dragon fight. The memory of it surged through him, dodging the dragon's fiery breath, the wind in his hair as he soared on his broom, the rush of adrenaline that made him feel more alive than ever before. The fear, the danger, it had all made him feel like he was finally stepping into the role he was meant to play. Like he finally deserved to be called the saviour of Britain.
"I can't just give up," Harry said with a steady voice filled with conviction. "This tournament... it feels like it's my chance to prove something. To prove who I am." He glanced at Hermione, seeing the worry in her eyes but feeling a deep, almost untouchable certainty within himself. "When I was up there, facing that dragon I felt like I was meant to be there. Like everything's been leading up to this. I'm not Lucas. I'm not just going to walk away."
Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "Harry, this isn't about destiny. It's about survival. You don't have to risk everything just because..."
"Because what, Hermione?" Harry cut in, his eyes flashing with a stubborn resolve. "Because I'm not good enough? Because I'm not supposed to be a hero? Maybe that's it. Maybe I am supposed to be here, doing this. I've faced worse than that dragon, and I'm still standing. This is what I was born for."
Holly exchanged a glance with Hermione, her brow furrowed. She spoke gently but firmly. "Harry, we're just worried. This tournament isn't some grand adventure. It's life and death. Lucas saw that, and so should you. You don't have to be the chosen one, not in this."
Harry's jaw clenched, his mind whirling. He knew they were trying to protect him, but something deep inside him had awoken during the first task. A purpose he couldn't quite explain, a feeling that this tournament was a step toward something bigger. Something only he could face. Something he was fated to do.
"I appreciate what you're saying," Harry said, his voice softer now but no less determined. "But I can't back out. Not now. This is where I'm meant to be."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest again, but Harry stood up, turning away from them both. "I'm sorry," he added, glancing back over his shoulder. "But this is my path."
And with that, he left the common room, leaving Hermione and Holly sitting in silence.
----
Ron had been stewing ever since the first task. The common room had been abuzz with talk of the champions and their feats. Harry's battle with the dragon had earned him a new wave of admiration, while Fleur and Viktor's impressive performances added to their own legacies. But Lucas Foster? The boy who had surrendered? His forfeit had sent shockwaves through the school, he was just like Ron always knew, all talk but no action.
"Can you believe it?" Ron muttered angrily, leaning over the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. "That git just gave up. All that talk about him being dangerous, some kind of prodigy, and he didn't even bother to try!"
Seamus, Dean, and a few other Gryffindors nodded in agreement, all looking equally unimpressed. "Yeah, what's the point of even being in the tournament if you're not going to give it a go?" Seamus said, rolling his eyes. "Waste of a spot."
Dean crossed his arms, shooting a glare across the hall where Lucas sat quietly, his back turned to the Gryffindor table. "It's almost like he thinks he's too good for the rest of us. No respect for the tournament."
Ron, emboldened by their agreement, felt his anger harden into something sharper. Ever since Lucas fought his way into the ministry, there had been whispers, rumours of a powerful dark mage training him in secret. About how powerful he had become because of that and how he turned his back on his home country. But what had that amounted to? A forfeit. Harry had faced a dragon and won, and Lucas had just walked away.
"I'm sick of it," Ron said, standing up abruptly. "Harry fought like a real champion, like a real Gryffindor. Meanwhile, Foster just hides behind his reputation. If he's not going to act like he's part of this tournament, then maybe we should remind him what it's really about."
Seamus glanced around, a smirk forming on his face. "What do you have in mind, Ron?"
Ron's face hardened with resolve. "A little reminder that this school respects courage, not cowards."
Before long, a small group of Gryffindors assembled: Ron, Seamus, Dean, and a few others. They gathered in the corridor outside the Great Hall, waiting for Lucas to leave. They weren't planning anything too serious, just enough to rattle him, to let him know he couldn't just coast through the tournament and expect everyone to bow down to his supposed talents.
When Lucas finally emerged, walking quietly with his head down and his thoughts elsewhere, Ron seized the moment. "Oi, Foster!" he called out, his voice loud and sharp, disregarding the two aurors, who he thought were here to protect Lucas and not the other way around. The incident in the Great Hall the day after Lucas had arrived already forgotten because of the excitment of the tournament.
The boy in question stopped, turning to face the group with an expression of mild curiosity. His gaze flicked over Ron and the others, but he said nothing.
Ron stepped forward, his chin raised defiantly. "What's the matter, then? Too scared to actually compete? Or do you just think you're better than the rest of us?"
The Gryffindors behind him snickered, Seamus chiming in. "Bet you didn't even think about how many people were watching. You made us all look bad, mate."
Lucas didn't respond right away. He simply stood there, his eyes calm, almost detached. It was as if their words barely registered to him. The silence only seemed to fuel Ron's anger.
"You think you're so special, don't you?" Ron spat, stepping closer. "Well, you're not. Harry's the real champion, not you. He fought the dragon, he faced the danger. You just gave up like a coward."
Lucas's expression remained unreadable, though his eyes flickered with something briefly. He took a step forward, meeting Ron's gaze with a level of calm that only unsettled him more. When he did that, he felt the hands of both aurors landing on his shoulders, as well as their wands pointing at his unprotected back.
"I didn't come here to prove anything to you," Lucas said not minding the aurors one bit. "I'm not interested in the tournament."
Ron's fists clenched. "Yeah? Well, you're in this school now, mate. And if you haven't forgotten already, we don't respect quitters."
The tension in the corridor escalated as Ron's words hung in the air. His knuckles whitened from clenching his fists, the righteous anger of Gryffindor pride burning in his eyes. Behind him, Seamus and Dean crossed their arms, standing firm, while the others glanced around nervously, unsure if this confrontation was going too far.
Lucas, however, remained still, the two Aurors' hands remaining on his shoulders, ready to incapacitate him at a moment's notice. His calm demeanor only seemed to irritate Ron further.
"You don't get it, do you?" Ron growled, stepping closer. "This isn't just about you. You waltz in here, everyone whispering about how strong and dangerous you are, and then you go and make a fool of yourself, and us! Hogwarts doesn't need people like you. Harry's the real hero here, and the only one."
For a split second, Lucas's eyes narrowed, a glint of something, perhaps annoyance, perhaps amusement, passing over his face. But he said nothing, his composure like stone.
"Maybe he can't," Seamus muttered, emboldened by Ron's confidence. "Maybe in reality he doesn't know any powerful spells and he's just too afraid to admit it."
Lucas glanced between Ron and Seamus, his expression still unreadable. He could feel the impatience of the Aurors behind him, ready to intervene if necessary.
They tightened their grips slightly, sensing the hostility rise even further. Frank leaned in and spoke past Lucas to Ron. "Don't escalate this, kid. Let it go."
But Ron was done with words. His fist flew forward, aiming to knock the calm, unreadable expression off Lucas's face. But before it could land, it stopped in midair.
Frank's wand had found its way from Lucas's back and in front of the fist, where a chantless protego caught the punch.
A wide almost demonic smile formed on Lucas' lips, "am I now allowed to defend myself?"
Albert's wand dug deeper into his back as he whispered in Lucas' ear, "don't even think about it."
Ron's face contorted with anger as his fist hovered uselessly in the air. His anger only grew, and he yanked his hand back, glaring at Lucas. "You're just hiding behind them now? You really are a coward!"
Seamus and Dean exchanged uneasy glances. The other Gryffindors didn't want to provoke an actual fight with two Aurors watching either.
Lucas's smirk faded slightly. "I said I'm not interested, Weasley. But we could sort this out in an official duel, couldn't we?"
"That's enough!" Albert's voice was sharp, cutting through the nonsense. "Nobody's doing anything stupid. There will be no fight or duel between you and any student. Is that clear."
"You heard him. My hands are tied." Lucas gloated as he shrugged his shoulders.
Ron's face flushed red with humiliation and rage. "That's not fair!" he yelled, but before he could take another step, Frank pointed his wand at him.
"Walk away, or this will get much worse for you," Frank said, his voice low and dangerous.
For a moment, it looked like Ron was going to charge forward anyway, but then Dean grabbed his arm. "Leave it, Ron. It's not worth it."
Seamus chimed in, his voice shaky. "Yeah, mate, let's go."
As the group of Gryffindors started to turn away, Frank asked Lucas quietly. "Did you do something?"
"No, he is that stupid on his own." Even Lucas was surprised at how someone could be that oblivious to their situation.
The group of three couldn't walk far, before they ran into Snape, who had watched it all unfold from a distance, far away to be unseen by most.
"A letter, Foster." Snape shoved the mysterious letter in front of Lucas' face and turned away while saying, "you should feed your owl better."
Lucas took the letter without any qualms and continued to walk back to his room.
Frank and Albert exchanged a puzzled look before walking as well. 'A truly strange man.'
The letter neither had a recipient nor a sender, not even a wax seal. Whoever had sent it wanted to remain hidden.
Well not that hidden, at least from him, because the first sentence on the parchment inside had a place and time for a meeting. Yet still no name.
'How strange. Who could it be?' Lucas thought before continuing reading.
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