Capítulo 63: 63 A Storm Approaches
Back in Japan, Lucas's senses sharpened as he felt a peculiar sensation, a tether pulling at his magic, guiding him with an irresistible force. Something was obviously calling him, but what?
'What is happening?' Lucas thought to himself as he laid on top of Akane's juicy thighs. Their heavenly feeling, however, couldn't overshadow the concern gnawing at the back of his mind. Eventually he gave in and closed his eyes. Lucas reappeared in his mind in front of a book he thought he would never need to open. It was the book with answers to questions he could not answer on his own.
After getting an answer to what most likely had happened, he couldn't help but let his frustration out.
*Sigh*
'He couldn't leave me alone, could he? Alway scheming, never letting go of control.'
Akane stopped playing with his hair and looked down, "what's bothering you?"
Her voice was soft and filled with concern. He looked up at her, his thoughts still whirling with all the possibilities he now had, yet none let him stay here with her and his mum.
"Something's wrong," Lucas finally said, his voice tinged with both irritation and resignation. He didn't want to seperate from her or japan now, but when the contents of the book were right then he had no choice. He had to compete in the Triwizard Tournament.
Akane's orange eyes softened further, her hand resuming its gentle caress through his hair. "Tell me, Lucas," she urged softly. "Whatever it is, we can face it together."
He reached up, grasping her hand, and met her concerned gaze with a troubled one of his own.
"I've been summoned," Lucas said quietly. "By a powerful magical contract that somehow bound me, one I didn't think could affect me by being so far away. But now… it's forcing me to compete in a tournament back at Hogwarts."
Akane's brow furrowed in confusion and concern. "A tournament? But why you? You're here, with us. You shouldn't be forced into something like this, especially when you're not even at that school anymore."
Lucas shook his head, his frustration evident. "It's not that simple. The Goblet of Fire,... it's a magical artifact that chooses champions for the Triwizard Tournament, and it seems someone dragged me into this, whether I like it or not. Even if I wanted to stay, I'm bound to compete."
Akane's grip on his hand tightened slightly, her protective instincts flaring. "Then I'll come with you. We'll face it together, as I said."
A sad smile tugged at the corners of Lucas's lips. "I wish it were that simple, but you are far too beautiful for your own good. I wouldn't put it past those noble pests that they would try to enslave you the moment they saw you. The laws would force you into a subordinate contract with me if we wanted to avoid that. And I wouldn't want that for you."
Akane's eyes darkened with a mixture of frustration and determination. "I don't care about laws or contracts," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the turmoil brewing within her. "You're important to me, Lucas. I won't let you face this alone... and I wouldn't mind being yours."
Lucas felt a warmth in his chest at her words, but he shook his head. "I appreciate that, Akane, more than you know. But I don't think I would be able to protect you, not against all of those houses together."
Her orange eyes narrowed slightly, her resolve only strengthening. "I can handle myself. You know that."
"I know," Lucas replied softly, his gaze steady. "But they are far more sinister and crooked than you could ever imagine."
Akane's expression softened slightly as she gazed into his troubled eyes. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "You're the first person I've ever felt this way about."
Lucas reached up, gently brushing a strand of her silken hair behind her ear. "And I don't want to lose you either," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "But I have to go."
A silence fell between them, the decision settling over both of them like a heavy shroud. Akane looked down, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Promise me," she said softly. "Promise me you'll come back."
Lucas nodded. "I promise," he said. "I'll come back to you. But until then, I need you to stay here, where it's safe."
Akane leaned down, pressing her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the moment. "I'll hold you to that promise," she whispered. "And when you come back, we'll finish what we started here."
Lucas smiled, a small, sad smile that held a world of unspoken words. "I'll be counting the days."
With that, they both fell into a silence, holding onto each other, drawing comfort from their closeness even as the upcoming separation loomed over them.
----
The tension in the hall was palpable. The Triwizard Tournament had already been thrown into chaos with Harry Potter's unexpected selection, but the unease only deepened when Dumbledore, after a long silence, finally returned. The headmaster's face was grave as he approached the extinguished goblet once more, holding the fifth piece of parchment in his hand.
The students, teachers, and guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons watched with bated breath. A murmur ran through the crowd as everyone sensed something was terribly wrong. No one had seen Dumbledore act this way, except a select few.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the room fell into a deafening silence. "There has been... a complication," he began, his voice calm but weighted with seriousness. "The Goblet of Fire has chosen a fifth champion, one whose name should not have been in the running."
The hall buzzed with confusion. Who could it be?
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning the room, before he finally spoke the name aloud. "Lucas Foster."
Gasps echoed through the hall. The name struck like a bolt of lightning. Everyone recognized the name immediately, how could they not, their faces a mix of shock, fear, and disbelief. The younger students, who were more on the clueless side, whispered among themselves, trying to piece together what was happening.
In an instant, the mood shifted from confusion to chaos. Voices rose in alarm, some shouting questions, others expressing outrage or fear. The mention of Lucas Foster, a notorious fugitive, had sent the hall into an uproar. How could the name of a criminal appear in this sacred tournament?
Amid the clamor, Draco Malfoy's voice was dripping with mockery and disdain. "The criminal returns!" he sneered, his eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction. 'Father will be pleased.'
Dumbledore raised his hand for silence, though his expression had returned to his normal one. The students gradually quieted, but the tension remained thick in the air. "The Goblet's choice is final," he said firmly. "Lucas Foster is bound to compete, there is nothing that can stop that."
----
A few days later.
With an audible *pop* Dumbledore appeared in front of the japanese hotel. Before going in he took in his surroundings. The hotel was a picturesque place, nestled among traditional Japanese gardens and the calming presence of a hot spring. He had to admit, he couldn't have chosen a better place to stay than this one himself.
He took a deep breath, composing himself. After all he was not here for sightseeing, he had to bring Lucas back to the place that wanted him dead or in chains, if he wanted to or not. The headmaster would have preferred to do this later, like he had planned, yet his hands were tied now.
Lucas sat in the hotel lobby, his posture relaxed but his expression serious, as if he had been expecting this moment for some time. His brown hair fell slightly into his eyes, which held a calm resolve.
No one else was present.
Dumbledore stepped inside, his presence commanding the room. He looked at Lucas for a long moment, the boy was the same as he had remembered him. Calm and collected. A little too calm for his taste.
"You know why I'm here," Dumbledore finally said, his voice suspicious. "The question is, how?"
The headmaster waited for an answer, yet Lucas simply kept staring at him. The only answer he got was anger started to bubble up within him. "It's truly strange and I can't for the life of me understand how you could have.... Regardless, I take it I won't be able to get an answer out of you."
The turbulent emotions subsided again and Dumbledore stated. "You got better. Not that I expected anything less from one of the most promising wizards I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. But you have to understand there is no way around this. You will come with me."
"It is true, I knew you'd come," Lucas said finally, his voice calm but tinged with a cold edge. "Though I had hoped you wouldn't have had to."
Dumbledore nodded slightly, his gaze never leaving Lucas. "This is not how I wished for things to unfold either, Lucas. But the Goblet's choice is binding, as you somehow know. You must return to Hogwarts and participate in the tournament."
Lucas's eyes narrowed slightly, the calmness of his voice opposite to how he truly felt. "Forced into a situation I didn't choose, once again. Funny how that keeps happening."
Dumbledore's expression softened, a hint of empathy visible. "I understand your frustration, Lucas, truly. But this situation is beyond my control. I also want to know who dared to use your name."
Lucas stood up, his movements deliberate and controlled. He turned his back to Dumbledore, looking out the large window that framed the beautiful Japanese garden outside. He had fought hard to carve out a life here, away from the chaos and manipulation that had marked his time in Britain. And the last few months were the happiest he had ever had. Now, it felt like all of that was being ripped away from him.
"Why me?" Lucas finally asked, more to himself than anyone in particular. "Why does it always have to be me?"
Dumbledore remained standing. It was strange seeing this side of Lucas. He almost looked like a normal teenager. It was so human.
Lucas turned back to face him, his expression hardened. "Let me make one thing clear. I won't play the goody two-shoes anymore. I am done with that. I will do what I want and most importantly I won't tolerate all those insults that were thrown at me constantly."
"I understand your anger, Lucas," Dumbledore said warmly, his voice filled with understanding. "You have been wronged in ways that should never have happened, but don't push it, they didn't know better."
Lucas's gaze sharpened. "Words won't be enough, Professor, we both know that. And frankly, I'm tired of it. So stop stating the obvious and let's get this over with. How are we doing this? Portkey or apparation?"
Dumbledore regarded Lucas with a look of deep sympathy mixed with regret. He had done it once again. It was the same with Grindelwald and Riddle, even though he played a more active role this time. It still wasn't enough. Yet he didn't dare take that one last step, at least not yet.
"We will use a portkey," Dumbledore replied.
With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore produced a small, weathered object that looked like an old, badly carved wooden figurine. "This will take us directly to a designated portkey location at Hogwarts. The journey will be quick, but be prepared for a lot of attention upon arrival."
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