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The Feathered Serpent: Chapter 22
🕑 Added 2024-08-14 16:30:01 +0000 UTCThe enchanted curtains of Harry's private room at Hogwarts shimmered with the first light of dawn, their deep blue fabric alive with twinkling silver constellations. As the darkness of the night faded into the growing daylight, Harry stirred awake, his emerald eyes blinking open blearily as he let out a yawn, his head thrown back.
Beside him, Daphne's golden hair spilled across his chest like liquid sunlight. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing irises the color of a storm-tossed sea. For a heartbeat, they gazed at each other, the weight of yesterday's revelation hanging between them like an invisible veil.
"Morning," Harry murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of Daphne's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his touch.
She caught his hand, her slim fingers intertwining with his. "How are you feeling?" The question was soft, laden with unspoken concern.
Harry sighed, absently stroking the curve of her rear as he ran a hand through his raven hair. The motion revealed a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead, and a frown overtook Daphne’s face at the mere sight of it.
"Better than yesterday, I suppose,” Harry said softly. “Still trying to wrap my head around the whole ‘obligation’ thing. It feels like I've stepped into someone else's life."
Daphne propped herself up on one elbow as she caressed his chest, her eyes never leaving his face. "We'll figure it out, Harry. Together. No one can take away our right to choose, not even these archaic traditions that should be left to rot in the past."
Sighing, Harry nodded and watched Daphne who slowly stood up and stretched as she stepped on the floor, taking solace in the vision that she was. The blonde saw him staring and a small smirk lit up her face. She flicked her wand and took care of both their bladders and morning breaths before she placed it on the bedside table.
“Wanna join me inside?” She asked suggestively, gesturing toward the bathroom as she began walking with slow, purposeful steps, her hips swaying hypnotically as Harry stared at her with a smile.
His response was to fling himself out of the bed and quickly grab her around her waist, hoisting her over his shoulder as she giggled.
Almost an hour later, they stood in the middle of the room as they dressed in a comfortable silence punctuated by the soft rustling of fabric. Daphne had long ago started keeping a spare change of clothing in his room for days like this.
Harry donned his school blazer over his shirt, the material shimmering with protective enchantments woven into the very fabric.
He turned to see Daphne sitting at the table in front of the mirror, braiding her hair with practiced ease. Her wand – as close a companion of his as it could be– twirled elegantly as she waved it around. He devoted himself to simply taking her in. The revelations of the previous day had scared him more than he would like to admit, even to himself, and he wanted to savor every moment with her.
The blonde gazed at his reflection in the mirror and smiled softly as she put her wand in its holster, holding her hand out for him. Smiling tenderly, Harry reached out and pulled her to her feet, stealing a quick kiss from his lovely girlfriend.
As they prepared to leave, Harry paused at the door, his hand on the ornate doorknob.
"Daphne," he said softly, a hint of vulnerability clear in his voice. "We’ll get this sorted out. I promise. You are the only one I want in my life, and that’s how it will be for the rest of our lives."
Daphne smiled at him lovingly, her eyes lit up her eyes like twin sapphires as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head right over his heart. "We will. We're in this together, no matter what happens."
They encountered no one outside the room and made their way through the Ravenclaw Common Room and the winding corridors of Hogwarts, their footsteps echoing off ancient stones that had witnessed centuries of magical education. Portraits lining the walls whispered and pointed as they passed, as always – a jovial wizard offering a toast with his painted goblet, a Moody-looking witch in medieval robes tutting disapprovingly at their joined hands, and a group of magical creatures taking flight as they passed them.
As they approached the Grand Staircase leading to the Great Hall, Daphne nudged Harry.
"There's Tracey," she said, nodding towards their associate who was waving casually from her spot at the bottom of the stairs.
The brunette pushed off the railing as they reached her. Her robes were slightly askew, and there was a smudge of ink on her cheek that made him wonder what she had been up to the previous night.
"You guys took your time, " she remarked, her brown eyes fixated on them. "Let’s get going, shall we? I'm so hungry I could eat a hippogriff!"
Harry and Daphne exchanged an amused glance as they nodded at Tracey and began walking alongside her. They entered the Great Hall together and made their way over to one of the four long House tables that stretched the length of the hall, already filling with students.
As they settled at their usual spot at the Ravenclaw table, platters of food materialized before them. The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the savory scent of eggs and bacon. Pitchers of pumpkin juice appeared alongside steaming pots of tea that seemed to know each student's preferred blend.
A few minutes passed as they kept eating, and as Harry reached for another piece of toast, he felt a sudden prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He glanced up, his gaze drawn inevitably to the staff table.
He spotted Professor Moody, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was a grizzled man, his face a roadmap of scars that hinted at a life of battles fought and won. But it was his eyes that captured Harry's attention, as they had done the previous evening – one a piercing blue, the other a magical prosthetic that whirled in its socket, seeming to see through walls and flesh alike.
"He's watching us again," Harry muttered, buttering his toast.
Daphne and Tracey followed his gaze, curiosity, and confusion apparent in their respective expressions.
"Wonder what his deal is," Tracey mused, her mouth full of scrambled eggs that earned her a glance from Daphne. "Maybe he is interested in you two, given who you are, you know? Or maybe he's just naturally creepy. It's hard to tell with people who’ve been involved with dark witches and wizards their entire lives. He is called a nutter for a reason, after all."
Harry shrugged, trying to push the thought away from his mind. "Let's focus on classes. What do we have today?"
Daphne pulled out her schedule, unfurling the parchment in front of her. "Advanced Herbology with Professor Sprout first. Then History of Magic, Transfiguration, and after lunch... Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Harry nodded, and in no time, they were on their way to hopping classrooms for the day.
In the greenhouses, they tackled the notoriously difficult task of repotting Venomous Tentacula seedlings. The plants, despite their small size, snapped viciously at any exposed skin. Professor Sprout, her flyaway grey hair even messier than usual and speckled with dirt, praised Daphne’s gentle touch with the dangerous flora. "You've got your mother's gift, Miss Greengrass," she said warmly, making the blonde smile politely.
History of Magic was next, and even the usually attentive students struggled to stay awake as Professor Binns, the ghostly instructor, droned on about the intricacies of 17th-century goblin rebellions. His translucent form hovered behind the stand, seemingly unaware that half the class had succumbed to slumber. Harry and Daphne, as usual, used the time to study advanced combat magic from the tomes they had at their disposal. Meanwhile, Tracey's quill danced across her parchment, but instead of notes, she was sketching elaborate diagrams of experimental quidditch plays, bored out of her mind.
Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall proved to be the most interesting class of the morning. The Moody witch, her hair pulled back in its usual tight bun, announced they would be delving into preliminary human transfiguration for the first time.
"Today," she said, her Scottish brogue cutting through the excited murmurs. "We will be changing the color of our eyebrows. While this may seem a trivial application of transfiguration, I assure you, mastering control over the human form is essential for more advanced transformations."
Before they could start, McGonagall walked over to where Harry and Daphne sat together.
“You two can skip this and work ahead on Conjurations,” she told them. “And do stay behind after the class. I would like to discuss something.”
They nodded and went to work as McGonagall left them to their devices.
By the end of the lesson, the results were varied and, in some cases, alarming. A few students had managed a perfect shift from blonde to jet black, earning them approving nods from Professor McGonagall. A few, despite their best efforts, found themselves sporting eyebrows of vibrant colors that ranged from purple, neon, red, and blue that drew barely concealed snickers from the rest of their classmates. A few students however, in a spectacular misfire of magic, had somehow given themselves a single, bushy unibrow that seemed to have a life of its own, wiggling expressively with every word they spoke.
As the students filtered out, Harry and Daphne nodded at Tracey before they approached Professor McGonagall who sat at her desk and gazed at them sternly.
“I want to discuss your animagus practices,” the Moody-faced woman began. “I assume it’s been on hold since… the only practice we held?”
Both Harry and Daphne nodded, the memory of their first transformation clear in their minds.
“We shall be restarting those practices now that…” the woman looked undecided for a moment before she sighed. “Now that you have eliminated any hormonal tensions that might have been existing between the two of you.”
The meaning dawned on them in an instant and both their eyes opened wide in shock.
“You truly believed your nightly escapades were unknown to your professors?” McGonagall asked sternly. “I hope Professor Flitwick told you about… certain rules on your first night here in the castle?”
As they nodded, McGonagall sighed. “The professors have the right to exempt certain students if they feel it necessary,” she told them. “I exercised this right because I felt it was required in your case, and you have proven that you are responsible enough.”
They had no clue how to respond to that, so they did the only thing that came to their mind.
“Er… thanks, I guess?” Harry managed, while Daphne murmured the same, a hint of mortification apparent in her demeanor at the nature of the conversation they seemed to be having with their professor.
McGonagall resisted the urge to roll her eyes at such a James Potter-esque remark and settled on a curt nod.
“Now that the complications have been resolved, you can resume your practices at your discretion. However, I would prefer if you did it a few times in my presence so that we can take care of any complications that might arise. Many new animagi struggle to revert to their human forms or transform partially. Although I do not believe the latter shall apply to you, it is still better to be cautious.”
“Understood, Professor,” Harry nodded.
“We will have practice sessions on weekends, an hour before dinner. Do not be late. You may go now.”
They nodded and together, they turned around and walked out of the Transfiguration classroom as McGonagall’s keen eyes followed them on their way to the exit. Sighing, she took off her glasses and rested them on the desk, remembering a similar conversation she’d had with a pair of students in the past.
“He’s his son, after all,” she muttered to herself with a hint of a smile on her face.
Lunch came and went in a blur with Tracey urging them to discuss their upcoming Astronomy project. Professor Sinistra had tasked them with charting the movements of Jupiter's moons over the next month, a project that would require late nights in the Astronomy tower and complex magical calculations that none of the students were looking forward to.
As the afternoon approached, a sense of anticipation built in Harry's chest. He, Daphne, and Tracey made their way to Professor Moody's classroom for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with the retired auror.
The corridor leading to the new classroom was lined with moving portraits of famous duelists from magical history. Their painted figures twirled and jabbed with their wands, some calling out encouragement or warnings to the passing students.
"What do you think he’ll be teaching us first?" Tracey asked, her voice a mix of excitement and apprehension. She was absentmindedly twirling her wand, sending out occasional sparks. "I heard the NEWT students saying Moody doesn't pull any punches. Apparently, he had them duel each other with actual curses on the first day."
Daphne shrugged, her hand instinctively tightening on Harry’s.
"It can’t be too bad. I’m sure we’ll learn much more than we ever did with Quirrell."
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath as they reached the heavy oak door of the classroom. Intricate carvings covered its surface – protective runes and symbols that seemed to writhe and shift if one looked at them too long. Moody truly seemed to take security seriously if this was the state of the door to his classroom.
His hand hesitated on the iron doorknob for just a moment before he pushed it open.
The classroom that greeted them was unlike any they'd seen before at Hogwarts. It was dimly lit, with heavy velvet curtains drawn over the windows. The classroom had an atmosphere of contained menace as if creating an environment that forced one to be on the lookout for anything nefarious.
Shelves lined the walls, filled with strange artifacts that pulsed with barely contained magical energy and jars of unidentifiable substances that seemed to move of their own accord. A skeleton of what might have been a dragon hung from the ceiling, its bones gleaming in the low light.
At the front of the room stood Professor Moody, his scarred face impassive as his magical eye whirled, taking in each student as they entered. His normal eye, however, fixed immediately on them with an intensity that made Daphne grab his hand just a little bit tighter.
As they stepped inside, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that this class would be unlike any they'd experienced before.
The heavy door swung shut behind the last student with a sound like the tolling of a bell, and Professor Moody's gruff voice cut through the tense silence: "Welcome, to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Wands out. Today, we learn how to duel with intent."
Harry's hand tightened on his wand as he exchanged a quick glance with Tracey who gazed at them knowingly as if saying ‘I told you so’.
“He’s not playing around, is he?”
“He most certainly isn’t, Davis!” Moody barked, and Tracey straightened as almost every eye turned to her.
The classroom crackled with nervous energy as Professor Moody's words hung in the air. Students exchanged uneasy glances, hands tightening on wands, the wood warm and alive beneath their fingertips.
"Pair up," Moody barked, his magical eye spinning wildly, seeming to pierce through each student in turn. "No stunners, no disarmers, no schoolyard tricks. But mind you, nothing dark either. I’m not interested in scraping your remains off the floor, however much experienced I might be. I want to see real dueling, not playground squabbles. Show that you’re worth me wasting my time over."
A dueling platform, not unlike the one they had in the Dueling Chamber of Hogwarts, emerged in the middle of the classroom as Moody banished the desks and chairs, making them stand by the walls. He eyed the first pair and grunted.
The two students stepped forward onto the raised dueling platform – a tall, lanky boy from Ravenclaw named Terry Boot and a curvy girl from Gryffindor whom they recognized as Lavender Brown. They bowed stiffly, nervous under the eyes of numerous students, and began at Moody’s command.
Flashes of light erupted between them – a Freezing Charm from Boot narrowly dodged by Brown, who retaliated with a Banishing Charm that Boot barely managed to deflect.
"Sloppy footwork, Boot!" Moody growled, his normal eye narrowed in disappointment. "You're dueling, not doing the foxtrot! And you, Brown – where's your follow-through? A duel isn't won by half-hearted spells!"
The next pair took their places. Hannah Abbott, one of their friends from Hufflepuff faced off against Blaise Zabini from Slytherin. Hannah opened with a rapid series of Stinging Hexes, forcing Zabini on the defensive. He countered with a well-placed Impediment Jinx, momentarily slowing Hannah's movements.
"Better," Moody grunted, "but still lacking. Abbott, vary your attack pattern. Zabini, stop relying solely on defensive spells. A good offense is often the best defense!"
Pair after pair dueled, and Moody's critiques grew sharper with each bout. Susan Bones, another of their friends from Hufflepuff, cast a Slicing Hex that grazed her opponent's robes, earning a begrudging nod from Moody. Two boys from Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, nearly set the curtains ablaze with poorly aimed Fire-Making Spells, drawing a blistering rebuke from the professor.
"Are you wizards or pyromaniacs?" Moody bellowed, extinguishing the smoldering curtains with a flick of his wand. "Control your spells! Without it, you're more dangerous to yourselves than any opponent!"
As the duels progressed, the tension in the room ratcheted up. Students who weren't currently dueling watched with a mixture of anticipation and dread, knowing their turn would come soon.
"Pathetic," Moody muttered after a particularly uninspired match. His magical eye swiveled, locking onto two students who had yet to duel. "Potter! Greengrass! You're up. Let's see if you can salvage this sorry excuse for a lesson."
Harry and Daphne stepped forward, the air between them charged with more than just magic. They often dueled together, either as a team or against each other, and this was not an unfamiliar setting.
They took their positions on the platform, bowing with fluid grace that was filled with respect and admiration for each other’s skills in addition to everything else. As they straightened, their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. This wasn't just a classroom exercise – this was a chance to truly showcase how well they could duel while remaining under twofold constraints – adhering to their surroundings and their professor’s instructions.
"Begin!" Moody's command cracked like a whip.
Daphne struck first, her wand a blur of motion. A flock of razor-beaked birds erupted from her wand tip, their eyes glinting with malice as they dove toward Harry. Moody’s eyes glinted approvingly at the display of silent casting.
Harry reacted instantly, his wand a blur of motion, matching his girlfriend. A powerful gust of wind blew around and scattered the birds, sending feathers flying across the classroom as they collided with the walls and the ceiling, far away from everyone. Without pause, Harry slashed his wand in a complex pattern.
Ropes materialized out of thin air, snaking towards Daphne with uncanny speed. The blonde pirouetted gracefully, her wand describing an intricate figure-eight. The ropes shimmered and transformed mid-air, becoming harmless ribbons that fluttered to the ground as they reached her. She quickly flicked her wand once again, burning them up to ensure they were not used against her again.
She smirked at Harry and waved her wand in the air once again. A wave of intense cold swept towards him, frost forming on the floor in its wake.
He stood ready and countered with a nonverbal Firestorm Charm he had learned from his Mum’s journals. Steam hissed where the spells met, creating a momentary smokescreen that enveloped the entire classroom.
Back and forth they went, spells flying with dizzying speed and precision. Harry sent a jet of water surging towards Daphne, who met it with a silent Incendio. The resulting collision of water and fire created another spectacular burst of steam.
A silent Reductor Curse from Harry was met with a perfectly timed Shield Charm from Daphne, the impact sending vibrations through the floor and rattling the windows.
The other students watched, transfixed, at the level of silent casting and magical power on display. They had already seen the pair duel in the Dueling Chamber, but their display still thrilled them. Even Moody's magical eye had stopped its incessant spinning, both eyes fixed on the duel with an intensity that bordered on hunger.
Daphne's next spell caught everyone by surprise. Her wand pointed not at Harry, but at a desk to his left. The heavy wooden furniture sprang to life, charging at Harry like an enraged bull.
Harry's response was equally creative. With a complex wand movement, he transfigured the oncoming desk into a flock of iridescent butterflies. Without missing a beat, he followed up with a crisp flick of his wand, immobilizing the insects in an instant.
His spell froze the butterflies in mid-air, creating a shimmering, living curtain between the two duelists. Through this glittering veil of suspended butterflies, Harry and Daphne's eyes met. Twin smirks bloomed on their faces as they winked at each other.
"Enough!" Moody's voice cut through the classroom like a knife. Harry ceased the spell and the frozen butterflies fell gently to the ground, once again becoming a simple wooden desk. "An admirable display, both of you. Perhaps not all hope is lost for this generation of wizards."
The class let out a collective breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding. Murmurs of awe and excitement filled the room as students discussed the duel they'd just witnessed.
"Class dismissed," Moody announced gruffly. "Practice your forms and come prepared next time. I won't tolerate another day of flailing about like little brats with little magical knowledge." His eyes swiveled to Harry and Daphne. "Except for you two. Potter, Greengrass, stay behind."
As the other students filed out, still buzzing with excitement from the duel, Harry and Daphne approached Moody's desk. The professor's face was unreadable, his magical eye swiveling between them with unnerving intensity.
"Well," he said after a long moment, his voice gruff but with an undercurrent of what might have been approval, "it seems you two might be worth teaching after all. Your spellwork was... as good as it could be, considering the constraints, and something tells me what you showed was only the tip of the iceberg. Your creativity in applying those spells, however..." He paused, his normal eye narrowing slightly. "That shows promise."
Harry and Daphne exchanged a quick glance, wondering what Moody had in mind.
"Right then," he growled, his normal eye fixed on them with an intensity that made both students stand a bit straighter. "I suppose you're wondering why I've kept you behind."
Harry and Daphne exchanged a quick glance before they nodded, listening attentively.
Moody leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking ominously as he eyed them. "Dumbledore told me about you two. Said you were some of the most promising students he's seen in years. High praise, coming from him. I asked the other professors as well, and they agreed."
He paused, his gnarled fingers drumming a rhythm on the desk. "But more importantly, he told me about what's coming. About Voldemort."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Harry's hand instinctively reached for Daphne who found him, their fingers interlacing as they held each other firmly. Their eyes narrowed slightly as they stared at the man who gazed back evenly.
"Sir," Harry began, his voice steady despite the tension evident in his posture. "What exactly did the headmaster tell you about Voldemort?"
Moody's magical eye spun rapidly for a moment before settling on Harry. "Enough, Potter. Enough to know that the peace we've enjoyed is coming to an end. The Dark Lord is gathering strength, and when he returns – and make no mistake, he will return – we need to be ready."
Daphne leaned forward, her eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and determination. "And you think we can help you all with that, Professor?"
A grim smile twisted Moody's scarred features as he gazed at Daphne. "I don't think, Miss Greengrass. I know. Your performance today only confirmed what Dumbledore told me. You two have potential – raw, unrefined, but potential nonetheless."
He stood abruptly, moving to a cabinet behind his desk. With a series of complex wand movements, he unlocked it, retrieving a pensieve. The silvery substance within swirled as he set it on the desk.
"I've been authorized to offer you additional training," Moody said, his voice gruff but with an undercurrent of urgency. "Not just in defense, but in combat magic, strategy, spellwork of Auror-level and beyond. It won't be easy, and it certainly won't be pleasant. But it might just keep you alive when the storm hits."
Harry and Daphne sat in stunned silence for a moment, the weight of Moody's words settling over them like a heavy cloak.
“We’re no strangers to the unpleasant,” Harry said gravely.
“The werewolf? Ah yes… nasty business. But you did the right thing. A vile being like that deserves to be put down, or you will shoulder the blame when it goes on to harm an innocent.”
Harry and Daphne stood in silence for a while as Moody stared at them in silence, his fingers drumming over the edge of the desk where the Pensieve sat innocuously, its silvery surface gleaming under the torchlight from the walls of the classroom.
"We'd be training with you, then?" Harry asked finally.
Moody nodded. "Primarily, yes. But you'll also be working with another of my trainees. Nymphadora Tonks. She's a newly qualified Auror, metamorphmagus, bit clumsy off the dueling platform but a force to be reckoned with on it. She'll be coming to Hogwarts twice a week for your sessions."
Their eyes widened in recognition and they shared a glance with each other. Daphne had already told him about Andromeda’s daughter who had been training under Alastor Moody, and although his girlfriend already knew the woman, he had never met her before. However, he was certain about one thing – if Moody was the one training her, then she was bound to be a capable witch. He wondered how they would fare against her and a desire to face a challenge like that lit up inside him.
Daphne was no different. She and Harry had made tremendous progress over the past months, faced challenges very few ever did in their entire lives, and had come out on top. Accepting this offer was truly a no-brainer.
"This might interfere with your other responsibilities… schooling and all that," Moody continued. "But Dumbledore's agreed to make certain... accommodations. You'll be excused from some assignments, not that you are involved in many. You are working in advance in most of your classes, after all. Still, you will be given extra time for others if necessary. Your education won't suffer, I can assure you of that."
Both Harry and Daphne knew this was preferential treatment, but it was one borne out of necessity. They all knew Voldemort would return and when he did, he would target them because of what had happened on that infamous Halloween night. As such, it made perfect sense for them to prepare for the inevitable fight, whenever it took place. They had been practicing and working on their magic with the same goal in their minds for a while now. The only difference was that going forward, they would have the guidance of someone who was regarded as the greatest dark wizard catcher alive.
As they gazed at Professor Moody, the man fixed them both with a penetrating stare, his magical eye for once still. "I understand you two have ambitions beyond Hogwarts. The European dueling circuit, if I'm not mistaken?"
Their eyes widened slightly as Harry nodded, a flicker of curiosity breaking through the contemplation on his face. "Yes, sir. We've been training for it for a while now."
"Good," Moody grunted. "This additional training will serve you well there, too. The techniques we'll cover, the strategies you'll learn – they'll give you an edge in competitive dueling as well as... other arenas."
He waved his wand, and two thick folders materialized on the desk. "These contain the training regimen I've devised. Review them carefully. If you decide to accept, be prepared for early mornings, late nights, and a level of magical exertion you've never experienced before. I do not have much time to spend on you, so act wisely."
Harry reached out for the folders and handed one to Daphne who glanced at it before looking back up.
Moody's expression darkened. "Make no mistake – a war is brewing, even if it is silence outside, and I hope you know you will be right in the thick of it, whether you're ready or not."
A heavy silence fell over the classroom, broken only by the occasional whir of a Dark Detector. Harry and Daphne gazed at each other, a wordless communication passing between them.
Finally, Daphne spoke, her voice quiet but resolute. "We'll do it, Professor. Whatever it takes."
Harry nodded in agreement. "When do we start?"
A fierce grin spread across Moody's face, transforming his scarred visage into something almost predatory. "Tomorrow morning, 5 AM sharp. I have the perfect place in mind. Get to the seventh floor and Nymphadora will meet you at the staircase. Don't be late."
Nodding, Harry and Daphne turned around and walked out of the Defense classroom, their minds whirling with a multitude of thoughts.
“Do you also feel that the stakes are getting bigger?”
“What gave you the clue?” Daphne asked with a small laugh. She quickly sobered up though as she glanced at him. “The Quirrell incident must have made Dumbledore take things more seriously if he’s arranged this for us.”
Harry nodded absently. “Or perhaps this is his way of trying to make amends with us for his almost fuck-up.”
“Yeah, that too,” Daphne agreed. “In any case, this is a golden opportunity. Moody’s name is legendary, and it’s impossible to go wrong under his tutelage.”
“Still, 5 AM? Isn’t it too early?”
“Complaining about early mornings? Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend?” Daphne asked with a mock surprised look on her face, earning a chuckle from Harry. “It’s only until the end of the year, I believe, and twice a week. I’m sure we can handle that.”
“I guess,” Harry muttered. “You know what this means though, right?”
Daphne gazed at him with an eyebrow raised in curiosity, and Harry smirked as he leaned closer.
“No more late nights before training days,” Harry whispered. “Which means─”
“More effort on other late nights,” Daphne completed for him, grinning.
“You know me so well, love,” Harry chuckled as he nuzzled her face before he wrapped an arm around her waist and started leading them forward.
The upcoming months had become much more challenging now, but they were sure it would all be worth it. It was what they needed, after all, knowing what was coming for them soon. They needed to be prepared for when it inevitably happened. There were no two ways about it.
To be continued…
Comments
theus gp
Unfortunately my signature only lets me read even this part of the story, this is the best story I've ever read, and it's for it that I'm paying for this subscription, please continue to release more chapters of this story, it's too good to be discontinued, congratulations on the great story.
Ryan
Still my favorite of your stories - 10/10 chapter, proves how well you write magical combat tbh.
