Capítulo 15: Veelas and Swordswomen
Chapter 15. Veelas and Swordswomen
Following the intense threesome, I activate Duralumin once more to enhance my [Parallel Twin] skill, generating 102 clones and assigning them to continue their training. Even though the gains will diminish each successive month, I intend to extract every last drop of benefit from this trick. And even when my clones do stop advancing my levels, I will still be able to use them for honing my abilities and gathering more knowledge. Not to mention, having 102 clones means having 102 extra lives. It would be stupid not to have them out all the time.
I'm also concealing my true power, aware that there are people who can sense magical cores. And I have no doubt that Dumbledore is one of them. It would be foolish to draw his attention and suspicion, especially after [God of Big Things] gave me a clean start by erasing the Snape incident from his memory.
All in all, I'm in a good mood as I make my way up the spiral staircase of Gryffindor Tower.
Opening the door at the top landing, I step out on the small expanse of terrace that runs around the spire wall. It's barely five feet wide from the door to the parapet.
Iris is seated on a blanket, her back against the tower wall, facing the balustrade that encircles the lip of the terrace. She's dressed in a red blouse and a black skirt, her knees pulled in with a book open in her lap. Her crimson hair is tied in a loose tail, flowing down her shoulder and resting on her stomach.
I sit down next to her, lean against the wall, and stretch my legs forward.
"You look different." She closes her book and pushes it in her bag, twisting her upper body to stare at me.
Smiling, I pat my lap. She readily throws her leg over and straddles me, her knees on either side, her shapely arse pressing against my crotch, and her palms resting on my shoulders. I grip her thighs under her skirt and look at her. "I'm flattered that you noticed right away. I didn't see much difference myself when I checked the mirror."
"It's not drastic." She frames my face with her soft palms, her forehead creased. "You look slightly… sharper," she says quietly, tracing my jawline.
"Good." I give her thighs a squeeze. "I don't want everyone's attention. Not until I want it myself."
"What happened?" she asks, running her fingers through my hair.
"I got more powerful, both in body and magic." My hands are now on her arse, cupping her plump, round cheeks under her skirt. She gasps as I tug her closer, clenching her butt instinctively and pushing down harder, making me moan. Once, she would've gotten annoyed and asked me to keep it to just kissing. But we've progressed far since then. Now, she's fine with practically anything.
She raises her eyebrows. "How strong?"
"Strong enough to beat Dumbledore without breaking sweat."
Her green eyes widen, and she tilts my face up. "Really?"
"Really."
She gives a slow nod, offering a faint smile. "Okay."
"You believe me?" I chuckle, squeezing her arse again, my fingertips creeping under her knickers.
"You gave me a superpower. You healed an incurable disease. You have white angelic wings," she says with a wry expression. "And who knows what else you're hiding."
My lips twist into a smile as I prepare to shock her. "There's actually a multiverse out there, just like the ones we read about in comics. I'm going to take you on a real adventure on 13th November. That will be our first date. Our special date."
…
…
"Okay."
I laugh at her easy acceptance. Though she is excited, her shining eyes and excited grin are proof of that.
The next few minutes are spent answering her endless questions without giving away too much. And the remaining time before dinner finds us lying on our sides, going down on each other in a sixty-nine. It's the only position where she truly enjoys blowing me, no doubt because of my attentive mouth on her tight virgin cunt.
~xXxXx~
It's been a week since my levels rose. And most of my free time is used up by trying out all the magic that my clones learnt. Safe to say, I have quite a spell repertoire. I know too many spells at this point. Maybe this was why I've been able to keep my gacha addiction at bay. Because more than fifteen days have passed since I last spun the fortune wheel. I should be itching to gain points—to spend it on the multiversal lottery. And I don't lack easy options either.
Astoria instantly comes to mind. She still has a point to spare, and her one-hundred-percent seduction means she will tear off her knickers at a mere suggestion. Then there is Leanne, who doesn't miss any chance to touch and be touched. The only reason I haven't railed her yet is because I'm keeping her points in reserve, just like Astoria's. These points are for when I actually go through the worst case—when I go without points for months.
In terms of points, Proserpina Greengrass is my biggest reserve with seven. She will have no choice but to spread her legs and let me pound away due to our mutually-satisfactory arrangement. Again, just like the other two, I'm leaving her for a more difficult time, or when I actually make her my maid and get the opportunity to work on her. Because while I'm willing to just bend her over and fuck her brains out, it will be more fun to get her attached to me, to make her love me. She spat at me being a halfblood, and getting her addicted to this halfblood cock will be the true win.
I want to mindbreak her, honestly. I want her to leave her husband on her own volition and come crawling back when the deal's one-year period ends. I want to make a true subservient maid out of her royal highness, whose only purpose in life would be to remain at my beck and call. That will be my complete revenge against the bitch and the mongrel.
Shaking off the dark thoughts, I consider more options.
Rose and Lavender.
The former has reverted to being my bratty sister, acting as if we hadn't made out that one night, while the latter still awaits her date. I still think it's better to leave Rose to her own devices and let her come to me naturally. And only if she resists for too long will I consider changing this tactic. As for Lavender, there will be a second Hogsmeade weekend soon enough. I will get myself some points and a buxom blonde then.
"Is that a… knight?" Ron asks dubiously from across the table, pointing at a particular girl as the Durmstrang students make their entry.
They march in orderly fashion to the sound of drums and trumpets, with some even performing acrobatic tricks. At the head of the formation are their headmaster and a boy, but it is the girl trailing behind who captures the most attention. Unlike her schoolmates, who are dressed in thick winter coats, she wears a steel breastplate and backplate over a black silk blouse and tight leather trousers, with a white scabbard attached to her hip.
It's difficult to discern her figure beneath the armour. However, she appears feminine enough, judging by the way the leather trousers hug her long, supple legs and firm round backside. Her dark ebony hair is tied up in a ponytail, exposing her neck while reaching down to her butt, swishing with her movements. Her gait is confident and unhurried, and her posture seems relaxed, though her grip on the pommel of her sword suggests she is ready to act in a blink of an eye.
"That's Thyra Helvig," Parvati says, gaining everyone's attention. "She's the fifth strongest member of a famous mercenary guild. It's also confirmed that she has been officially contracted to guard Kiril Marinov, the boy who was beside their headmaster. He's the son of the richest oligarch in Bulgaria. If the rumours are true, he has warned everyone from his school to stay out of the competition. He intends to be the one chosen."
That's actually good information.
People like Parvati who can socialise with strangers and make fast friends are extraordinary. That ability is a superpower in itself.
Returning to Thyra, she is apparently a proud swordswoman, a practice regarded as barbaric and too muggle-like in modern Wizarding Britain. On top of that, she is also a member of a famous mercenary guild at such a young age. I will need to learn more about these guilds because I can't name any. Her strength is further confirmed by the fact that the richest man in Bulgaria has entrusted his pampered brat's safety to her.
Interesting. She is undoubtedly interesting. And beautiful, too. Easily A-tier. Not anywhere close to Daphne or Rose, but definitely up there.
I'm just glad she won't be participating. Rose's chance to win would've plummeted otherwise. Because as much as I believe in my sister, I know she's not powerful enough to compete against people like Thyra.
I stare at her as she takes her seat at the Slytherin table, beside Kiril Marinov. As if sensing my gaze, her sharp blue eyes meet mine. My polite smile is answered with a suspicious glare. Then she promptly looks away and stares at nothing.
I wish I could use [See] on her to know her levels. But since I used Duralumin on it when trying to find the stalker, it has gone into a cooldown and won't be usable until 13th November. It's the only reason why I haven't taken Iris to another world already. I'm not jumping into an unknown reality without this important skill.
I can't say I regret it since it was for Rose's safety, but I do feel its stark absence.
After the students from Durmstrang settle down and their headmaster greets Dumbledore, joining him and the other professors and Ministry officials at the head table, the representatives of the final school make their entrance.
The pretty girls from Beauxbatons do a strange mix of strutting and dancing, blowing kisses at us and making weird sighing noises, while the boys simply walk with a straight face, which I think is the hardest task. I would have cringed in their places.
Durmstrang would have beaten them by a large margin if it were a contest for best entrance. That's what I'm thinking when two otherworldly beauties enter afterwards, accompanied by their half-giantess headmistress.
They are lithe and graceful, draped in flowing blue robes. Their figures are works of art—tall but not extravagantly so, with curves so tastefully proportioned that they border on perfection. Their hair is a shimmering silver-blonde, styled into intricate French braids, each tendril catching the light like a cascade of silken threads. Their eyes are pools of sapphire blue, and their porcelain skin is unbelievably soft, so fragile that even a kiss would leave the faintest of marks. Their cherry-pink lips are so enticing that they seem to demand absolute adoration.
With bodies like that, they are the stuff of male fantasies.
At first glance, the two seem identical, but a closer look reveals subtle differences. Their faces, though similar, are not identical. One is slightly shorter and less confident, merely walking, while the other—likely her older sister—glides with every step, commanding attention and admiration.
These are definitely Veelas—easily S-tier beauties. I don't need [See] to know that.
Just now, Rose has lost her title as the most beautiful girl in the castle. Not that she would mind. Knowing her, she'd heave a sigh of relief and welcome not being ogled at anymore.
Two more ladies have joined my mum and Proserpina in the S-tier rankings, and I'm all for it.
"Boys." Hermione grimaces, her voice dripping with disdain as she glowers at our drooling housemates. Then again, it's not just the Gryffindors; every other house, including Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, is gaping at the bewitching sisters.
I'm glad for my [Shield] perk, or I'd be acting like these brainless idiots, too.
"Don't worry. I'll drool enough for you, so no need to get jealous," I quip, throwing my arm around her shoulders and giving her a quick kiss on the lips, not caring that I'm revealing our relationship. I pull her closer, letting her hide her blushing face against my shoulder.
The chuckles and impressed looks from the girls are welcome. I'm sure their seduction has increased, even if only slightly.
"They are Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour. Veelas, obviously, if these morons' reactions weren't proof enough. Gabrielle is the school's favourite for this competition; her bashful and modest nature makes her hard to dislike. Fleur, on the other hand, is the total opposite—vain and arrogant, lusted by many but liked by none. The only reason she is here, even though she cannot participate, is because she is apprenticing under the headmistress," Parvati reads aloud from her notes, earning amused stares.
"How do you know all these?" Lavender elbows her, clearly awed by her friend's initiative.
Parvati grins, lowering her voice so everyone has to lean closer to hear her. "There are more ways to win a war. And gathering knowledge is easy if you know your trade. I'll do my best to help the Hogwarts champion. We will not lose to them. We will win."
"We will win!" The Gryffindor table cheers, unembarrassed by the disapproving reactions.
I roll my eyes so hard that I'm afraid they will pop out. And Hermione cringes beside me. They are taking this competition too seriously.
Wait, who is that?
As the two Veelas and the headmistress make their way halfway through the Great Hall, another girl steps through the double doors behind them.
She carries herself with unmatched elegance, clad in a pristine white bodysuit that clings to her slender frame like a second skin, accentuating every curve and contour. She walks with a nimble grace, her expression a picture of aloofness. Her light-blonde hair, falling to her back, is meticulously parted in the middle and frames her exquisite face. With all these blessed features, she is already exceptionally beautiful—an S-tier beauty. What stands out are her eerie silver eyes and the large two-handed sword strapped to her back.
I'm not a huge sword nerd, but even I can recognise a claymore when I see one. The distinctive crossguard is a dead giveaway.
So, Durmstrang has Thyra and Beauxbatons has her, where is our own sexy swordswoman?
A hush falls over the Great Hall at her arrival. She is just as gorgeous as the Veelas, but unlike them, who used their allure to captivate everyone and put on a show, she simply strolls over and plops down at the Ravenclaw table, beside the other Beauxbatons students. Her presence ruins their dramatic display, but judging by her indifferent expression, she doesn't seem to care one bit.
A chuckle escapes me, which I bite back quickly when heads start turning towards me.
I can practically feel Fleur Delacour seething as she abruptly ends the theatrics and hurries the rest of the way, with her mortified sister fast on her heels. They join their schoolmates, while the half-giantess shakes Dumbledore's hand and is escorted to the head table.
We all turn to Parvati expectantly, and I can't even get annoyed by her proud smirk this time. "That's Teresa Clare. She's a new transfer student who just joined Beauxbatons this year. Unfortunately, I couldn't gather much information since my friends don't know her very well. All they mentioned is that she's a loner who spends most of her time training."
Well, it's something at least. Now I know her name.
It's incredible to think there are four S-tier beauties in Hogwarts at the same time. I'd be ashamed of myself if I couldn't seduce at least two of them before the year ends. And I'm not counting my mum in that challenge, because seducing her is not optional.
If that wasn't enough theatrics, Dumbledore jumps on it too and dims the candles once everyone is seated, revealing the goblet of fire. Then he tells us about the tournament, warning us about its danger and asking us to think carefully before entering our names.
His speech is followed by the Ministry official, Barty Crouch's, who gives us more information and reminds us that only people of age can participate.
I'm not going to lie. I'm worried for Rose. Can she even compete against the likes of Teresa? I can't see her levels due to the cooldown on [See] skill, but I have a feeling she is way stronger. She practically emits an aura of an experienced fighter, as if she has fought for real. And she just might have.
Oh well, at least Rose will be chosen as Hogwarts champion. I'm certain of that. It should bring her enough glory. On 11th November, I'll be able to grant her a wish, just as I did for Iris. Maybe that will make a difference. I hope she asks for a powerful ability, because on her own, I have a feeling she won't stand a chance against her competitors.
~xXxXx~
"Morning," I greet Katie with a kiss. "What's up with her?"
Rose is slumped on the sofa, her head in her hands, while a crowd gathers around her, murmuring and being a general nuisance.
Today is Halloween, the day the champions will be chosen, so I can guess the reason for her panic.
"She doesn't think she'll be selected, so now she doesn't want to enter her name," Leanne snorts, slinging her arm around my neck and pulling me close enough that I can smell the shampoo on her still slightly damp hair. "Maybe you should give her a hug; it might cheer her up. And while you're at it, how about sparing me a hot kiss?"
I shrug off her arm and elbow her away, approaching my sister. "Come, Rosie. Let's get your name in the goblet. I'll hold your hand all the way, how about that, princess?"
She sits up and shoots me a dirty look. "Very tempting, but I think I'll pass. No need to embarrass myself when my name is not even going to come out."
I consider poking more fun at her before becoming serious.
"You are the strongest seventh-year in Hogwarts. Trust me on that." I offer my hand. "And you will get stronger still."
She must have caught onto my hidden meaning because she immediately straightens up, her posture suddenly alert. Her eyes, previously clouded with doubt, now shine with renewed confidence. "You sure?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and determination.
"Yes." It's so easy to seem all-knowing when my family doesn't know my true power. To them, I'm a mysterious boy with who knows how many hidden cards up his sleeve.
She takes my hand and gets off the sofa, blushing when I embrace her tightly and plant my lips on the corner of her mouth. "I promised you would win, didn't I? Let's go."
"Alright." She takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand. Together, we walk out of the common room, leaving behind the energetic crowd who are overjoyed that their favourite is back in the game. Only Katie, Leanne, and Hermione follow us. Since it's still a little early for breakfast, the others will linger behind before heading to the Great Hall.
"I forgot to ask, but why were you in our common room?" I glance at Leanne. "You're not a Gryffindor."
She shrugs, grabbing my free hand and swinging it playfully. "I'm a Gryffindor at heart."
"Ten points from Hufflepuff for breaking into the Gryffindor common room," I declare without missing a step. I'm a prefect, after all, and it would set a bad precedent if I let her go scot-free.
"I didn't break into your common room," she protests, sticking out her tongue. "Katie opened the door and let me in. Besides, your girlfriend has already deducted points!"
Hermione nods with a small smile when I look over my shoulder, while Katie chuckles and avoids eye contact. It's not difficult to guess which girlfriend she is talking about.
"Good. Now you won't forget this lesson."
She pouts but doesn't complain, letting go of my hand and sidling up to Katie to bother her.
"You really think I can win?" Rose murmurs, her fingers absently twisting a strand of her crimson hair. "You saw them, didn't you? Durmstrang is full of formidable competitors, and Beauxbatons isn't lacking either."
She's right about that, but she doesn't need me to state the obvious right now.
"I'll be there to help," I assure her, interlacing our fingers. "I'm confident we can find a way, even if they're stronger."
She responds with a reluctant nod and remains silent as we hurry out of Gryffindor Tower and make our way through the corridor connecting us to the rest of the castle.
As we turn right and walk along a hallway that borders an inner courtyard, we stumble upon an interesting scene.
In the courtyard, Ron stands protectively beside a girl, while a group of Durmstrang boys looms threateningly before him. Even from here, I can tell that things are about to escalate. I consider simply ignoring the situation and moving on, but that option vanishes as Hermione jogs away to intervene.
Leanne and Katie follow close behind, and when Rose tugs me after them, I suppress a sigh and step into the courtyard.
This is going to be annoying.
I signal for Rose to stay back with her friends and then run a short distance to catch up with Hermione. "Let me handle this."
She nods.
"What's going on here?" I ask calmly, projecting authority as I step between Ron and the boys. They're even bigger than us, and Ron and I are among the tallest in our year. What do they feed them over there?
Ron visibly relaxes at our arrival, as does the girl glued to him. "These idiots were dragging this poor girl off for who knows what. I stepped in to try and stop them."
"This is inner matter. She is from Durmstrang," one of the boys asserts, stepping forward with a commanding stance and crossing his arms over his chest. His English is heavily accented. "Do not interfere."
Inner matter? Oh, he means internal matter.
"Apologies, but you're at Hogwarts, and we don't tolerate bullying here. Miss, do you want to go with them?" I glance at the girl hiding behind Ron, clutching the back of his shirt.
She shakes her head firmly.
"See? She said no. Please leave." I offer a polite smile, considering the matter resolved.
The boy rubs his face wearily. "We will take her back and hold her. We will not hurt her. She is trying to enter her name, which is against the rule. Do not interfere. This is inner matter."
There's a clear edge of frustration in his tone, as though he's exasperated by having to repeat himself.
Right. I recall what Parvati mentioned. These must be Kiril Marinov's lackeys, enforcing his 'rule' that no one else is allowed to enter their names in the goblet.
How pathetic. If he's afraid of this scrawny girl, he's clearly unworthy of being selected.
"As Harry said, this is Hogwarts." Hermione butts in, scowling. "You cannot simply drag a girl away. Unless she's bothering anyone, she's free to explore the castle as she pleases. And I don't remember Headmaster Dumbledore excluding her personally when he gave instructions on how to participate. If she is of age, she is free to enter her name."
"Do not interfere." He tries to grab her and push her aside.
I seize his wrist before he can lay a hand on her, my wand directed at his chest. With a flick, the spell hits its mark with a burst of light, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. He's jerked into the air, his body suspended upside-down and dangling by his ankles. His face reddens with shock and indignation as he flails helplessly.
"Please don't touch her." I sigh.
He bellows a string of obscenities in his native language, his face contorted with rage as he fumbles to aim his wand at me. A silent disarming spell wrenches it out of his grasp and sends it flying into Rose's hand, her expression apoplectic as she stomps towards us.
That's the spark that ignites the conflict. The remaining Durmstrang boys spring into action, moving with aggression. I twist my wrist, and a shimmering, transparent barrier materialises around us, providing protection and deflecting their feeble attacks.
Good. At least they know we shouldn't resort to more dangerous spells.
"Select your opponents and get ready," I command, maintaining the barrier for a few more seconds before letting it fade.
Rose, Katie, and Leanne take down four of the boys, while Ron, Hermione, and the Durmstrang girl finish off the last.
…
…
"Well, that could've gone better," I remark, eyeing the boys groaning on the ground and the one dangling in the air, still shouting.
I silence him. Even if I don't understand his curses, the noise is still incredibly grating.
"You know non-verbal spells! Since when?" Hermione grabs my shoulders, staring at me in disbelief. "We haven't even started on this in class yet."
"Self-study," I reply with a weak grin, finding it amusing that this is what irritates her the most.
"But you said no self-study! You promised we'd take it easy this year! Just watch—I'll master it by next month. And I'm not falling for your tricks again. Let's have fun for once and not worry about studying, he said. Liar."
I scratch my cheek, feeling oddly embarrassed about breaking our promise. "Look, I didn't mean for it to happen. I was just… bored. And don't try to tell me you're not already reading ahead. I know you too well. I'll dance naked if you're not already halfway through this year's curriculum."
She has the nerve to blush and offer an innocent smile.
"If you two are done flirting, maybe do your job and call a professor," Leanne grumbles, giving us a sidelong glance. Katie and my sister share similarly amused expressions.
"Right. Hermione, can you handle this? I need to escort Rose to the Great Hall." I move next to my sister, casting a critical eye at the foreign girl clinging to Ron's arm. She's cute enough, with her mousy hair and modest curves—probably B-tier. But, eh, Ron can keep her.
Noticing my gaze, she nods gratefully.
"I will." Hermione replies, binding them and taking their wands.
I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and start to walk away.
At that moment, two figures emerge from the corridor on the other side.
Kiril Marinov and Thyra Helvig.
He is dressed in a white shirt and sleek trousers, topped with a dark coat. His walk carries a certain swagger, his arms clasped behind his back as though he were a king on a leisurely stroll. Thyra wears similar attire to last night: a grey blouse, breastplate and backplate, and tight leather trousers, with one hand resting on the pommel of her sword.
As Kiril halts before us, she steps aside and sits on a nearby bench, stifling a yawn.
"What's going on?" he asks with a civil tone, free of any noticeable accent as he surveys the dishevelled state of his lackeys.
"They attacked us," I answer with a shrug, holstering my wand. "We were trying to protect this girl from them. It seems there's a rule prohibiting her from entering her name in the goblet of fire. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
He frowns. "You're interfering where you're not wanted, boy. Leave this to the adults. Ivana, return to the ship and stay there until tomorrow. You wouldn't want to provoke me. I know your family. Don't make things difficult for them—they're already making enough sacrifices on your behalf."
The girl behind Ron, Ivana, pales and quickly steps forward, bowing and pleading in a foreign language—most likely Bulgarian. I don't need to understand the language to see that she's desperately asking him not to harm her parents. Kiril's words might be an idle threat, but they could very well be true. You never know how vindictive someone can become when they hold all the power.
Ron is red in the face, while Rose and her friends scowl. But it's Hermione who appears the most enraged.
I sigh, realising there's no chance she'll back down now.
She steps forward, pointing her wand at Kiril. "Are you threatening he—"
A drop of blood trickles down her forehead. It's a minor cut, barely noticeable and sure to heal in a few days. Still, she gasps and stumbles back, her hand trembling as she wipes her forehead, revealing her palm smeared with red.
"Please don't come any closer," Kiril says with a smirk, his arms still clasped behind him.
He isn't the one responsible, though. The real culprit is seated on the bench, watching us intently with her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. Though the blade is sheathed, she must have done something to inflict the cut on Hermione's brow.
"Harry, let's go." Rose pulls Hermione back, clearly rattled, leaving me and Ivana as the only ones still near Kiril.
I turn to Thyra, who regards us with a warning gaze. "That was some impressive magic."
"You saw that?" She raises an eyebrow.
I wouldn't say I saw it, but I certainly felt it.
It was raw magic, shaped into an invisible blade. I glance at the wall to my left, now marked with a long scratch. The blade was so precise it only grazed Hermione's skin before cutting into the wall and dissipating.
Had I known about her attack in advance, I would've been able to intercept it. No matter; I'll be ready next time.
"Yes. And if I see it happen again, I will make you beg for death." I smile, giving her a respectful nod before allowing Rose to guide me away.
Thyra returns the nod, unfazed by the threat. "Just don't harm my charge, and we'll get along fine."
"Thyra! You can't let this boy off so easily. He challenged you," Kiril snaps, his gaze fixed angrily on me.
"It's fine." Thyra continues to watch me. "We don't want any trouble."
"If you say so." I hold her gaze steadily. "And please ask your dog to stop calling me 'boy'. It's... infuriating."
"Don't ignore me, boy. Talk to my face."
My smile widens as my heart pounds in my ears. Boy? Let's think this through. How bad would it be if I killed him right here?
I'd be expelled from Hogwarts. I wouldn't graduate due to a criminal record. But I could live with that. I have immense power now, and Hogwarts has nothing left to teach me.
His rich father would put a bounty on my head. But I could deal with them all, then go on a rampage and thoroughly destroy him. His money won't protect him from the might of magic. Everyone knows true strength outweighs reputational or financial power.
My family could be dragged into danger. But I could always take them to another world. There's an entire multiverse out there. I'm sure we'd be fine.
Okay, it's decided; killing him wouldn't be too bad.
"F—"
"Let's go." Rose yanks me hard, interrupting my thoughts and giving me a moment to regain my composure.
I allow her to lead me away, casting a last look at Thyra. She's trembling before Kiril, her sword fully drawn and pointed in my direction, her blue eyes wide with fear.
I chuckle at her pale face. She must have sensed the buildup of my 'Unrelenting Force'. It shows she's stronger than I initially thought, but she's still no match for me. No one is, I think.
"Keep that dog in line, Miss Helvig. Who knows if my sister will be around to save him next time."
"I will," she replies, jerking her head in a quick nod before sheathing her sword in one smooth motion.
"Who are you calling a dog, boy?" Kiril pulls out his wand, clueless about how close he came to dying. Then again, only Thyra really felt my power. Rose and my friends are just looking confused by the whole thing.
Thyra smacks Kiril's wand out of his hand and pulls him and Ivana away, not daring to look back.
"What was that?" Hermione asks, still holding her forehead.
"Dunno." I shrug, feigning ignorance to their suspicious looks.
As we walk into the Great Hall, and I hold Rose's hand while she drops her name into the goblet, I find myself thinking about my contradicting thoughts and actions.
Why did I stop? I want power and recognition. I want to be special. I want to be more than just another face in the crowd. So why did I hold back and hide my power? Why didn't I shout him dead?
The safety of my family? Perhaps. Or maybe not.
A smile tugs at my lips as I figure it out.
I get it now—this push and pull inside me. I want to show off my skills and get famous. I want everyone to know who I am. But at the same time, I don't want to reveal all my secrets. I want to keep them close, like a dragon with its gold.
I need to get this sorted before I end up doing something I'll regret. Thyra already knows I'm not just some ordinary wizard—that was a stupid move. It was foolish and impulsive. But it felt good in the moment, knowing I was going to kill an ignorant rich snob. If Rose hadn't interrupted me, I would have used my shout, consequences be damned.
Not to mention, forcing the impassive knight to tremble like a leaf in a storm was also exhilarating.
~xXxXx~
It's the moment of truth—the time for the Hogwarts champion to be selected.
The champions for Durmstrang and Beauxbatons have already been chosen: Kiril Marinov and Teresa Clare. While Durmstrang cheered for their champion, Beauxbatons had different reactions. A few were happy, but most were dissatisfied that it wasn't Gabrielle Delacour, grumbling that it was some new girl who hadn't even spent a couple of months at their school.
But the goblet is an impartial artefact, only selecting the best, not caring about such small details.
Presently, Dumbledore catches the parchment as the goblet spits it out. "The champion for Hogwarts is… Rose Evans!"
The Gryffindor Table rises to its feet and screams in joy, and the other three follow. Even the Slytherins offer a lukewarm applause.
A few people wipe their eyes and adopt wide smiles, including Katie Bell. Just because she is happy for her friend doesn't mean she isn't sad and disappointed.
Harry Evans is the first to hug the new champion and pushes her off the bench, forcing her to get up and walk.
Rose Evans looks dumbstruck as she makes her way to the designated chamber.
That should have been enough excitement. But moments later, the fire in the goblet changes colour and spits out another parchment.
Silence strikes the Great Hall like lightning, and all eyes are on Dumbledore as he picks it up from the floor.
…
…
"Gabrielle Delacour."
A certain Veela's smirk goes unnoticed, while the other is thrown into the spotlight.
Beauxbatons has two champions. Something is amiss.
The nail-biting quiet is soon devoured by mad chaos and everyone starts yelling at the French, insulting their mothers and fathers and everything in between. Before an actual brawl takes place, the professors control the students and send them away.
The next morning brings unusual news.
The problem has been resolved.
This year's Triwizard Tournament will be a team competition. This year, every school will have two champions.
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder