Amelia woke before Harry the next morning, carefully disentangling herself from him to avoid waking him. She dressed quietly and left a note, explaining she had urgent business but would return that afternoon to discuss matters with Susan.
Descending to her study, she penned a letter to Tonks, summoning her to the office in 30 minutes. With that done, she stepped into the floo network and emerged at the ministry moments later. At 5:30 a.m., the atrium was eerily quiet, save for the distant shuffle of the skeleton crew on duty. Aurors glanced up briefly as she passed through the bullpen before returning to their card games.
Once inside her office, Amelia sank into her chair, burying her face in her hands. Restlessness gnawed at her; her magic churned just below the surface, untamed and fiery.
"I can't fix the Horcrux situation right now," she thought bitterly. "But there's one thing I can deal with—the Dursleys. I made no promises to Harry except ensuring their safety from Death Eaters. After today, they might wish the Death Eaters had found them first."
Her wand snapped into her hand before she could restrain herself, and a blast of magic left a smoking hole in her office wall. Startled voices and hurried footsteps followed from the bullpen. Amelia waved her wand to repair the damage just as Tonks opened the door.
"Whoa, boss," Tonks said, her eyes darting between Amelia and the newly mended wall. "You okay?"
"Sit," Amelia ordered curtly. She strode to a wardrobe and retrieved her Pensieve, setting it on her desk.
"Show me what you've learned from the Dursleys," she demanded.
Tonks hesitated. "Are you sure, boss? It's... not pleasant."
"That's an order, Auror," Amelia said, her voice cutting.
Reluctantly, Tonks extracted the silvery strands of memory and deposited them into the Pensieve. Amelia plunged in without hesitation, Tonks following close behind. Together, they witnessed Harry's life in the Dursley household: scars, injuries, and weeks locked in a cupboard. Harry's recounting of his past hadn't fully conveyed the cruelty; what he'd omitted was staggering.
When they resurfaced, Amelia's face was a mask of cold fury. Tonks shifted uneasily as her boss's eyes burned with calculation.
"Grab your cloak," Amelia said sharply. "We're paying them a visit."
"Wait!" Tonks called nervously. "If we're going to Little Whinging at this hour, we should—uh—disguise ourselves. Glamour charms or something."
"Right," Amelia said, waving her wand to transform herself into a polished businesswoman. Tonks morphed into a plain-looking, middle-aged woman.
They apparated to the corner of Privet Drive and strode purposefully toward Number 4. Amelia rapped firmly on the door. Footsteps approached, followed by a shrill voice.
"Who in their right mind—?"
Petunia's words turned into a scream as a controlled explosion blasted her backward. She landed in a heap, half in the kitchen. Startled by the noise, Vernon and Dudley stumbled into the room, tripping over her prone form. Vernon froze, his face draining of colour as he took in the sight of Amelia, her wand levelled at him, eyes blazing.
"What's the meaning of this?" Vernon sputtered, his voice trembling.
Amelia seized his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall with shocking strength, pressing her wand to his throat. "Do you feel any remorse for how you treated Harry?"
"Get out of my house, freak!" he snarled, though his voice cracked with fear.
"Wrong answer," Amelia said icily. "I am the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Do you think anyone will question me if you disappear?"
Vernon's face turned purple, and his legs gave way. Amelia whispered, "Imperio."
Tonks watched, wide-eyed, as Vernon's defiant glare melted into vacant compliance. Amelia leaned in, speaking softly but firmly. "Every time you see your wife or son, you'll be overwhelmed with guilt for how you treated Harry. You'll sob uncontrollably until one of you says something kind about him. And whenever you hear your boss's name, you'll insult him—and then vomit violently."
Releasing him, she turned to Petunia, who was regaining consciousness. Dudley hovered nearby, torn between helping his mother and fleeing. Amelia loomed over Petunia.
"What about you?" Amelia's voice was icy. "Do you feel any remorse?"
Petunia scrambled backward. "We were only trying to stop his freakishness!" she shrieked. "We didn't do anything wrong!"
Amelia's lips curled into a feral smile. "Imperio."
Petunia's eyes glazed over. Amelia whispered her command. "Every two minutes, your memory will reset. You won't know who you are, where you are, or who your family is. The only way to break the cycle is to recall how kind Harry was and truly wish to apologise to him."
Petunia stumbled to her feet and wandered into the kitchen, muttering to herself. The sound of plates crashing soon followed.
Finally, Amelia turned to Dudley, who was retreating toward the stairs. "Please don't hurt me," he pleaded. "I—I know I was awful to Harry. But last summer, when he saved me, I realised I was wrong. I—I don't think he's a freak."
Amelia studied him for a moment before conjuring an envelope, which she handed to him. Dudley flinched but opened it cautiously.
"Those are your emancipation papers," Amelia explained. "There's also an employment contract for police training and some funds to get you started. Work hard. Make sure no one else is treated like Harry was."
Dudley nodded solemnly. "I will."
Amelia glanced back at the kitchen, where Petunia's confused voice echoed. Vernon was sobbing on the sofa. Dudley looked torn between pity and frustration.
"If you want to help them, convince them to care about Harry," Amelia said flatly. "But feel free to let them suffer for a while."
With a flick of her wand, the doorway repaired itself. She and Tonks stepped outside.
"Blimey, boss," Tonks said, awestruck. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Amelia gave her a rare smile. "Thank you for your help, Auror. Take the rest of the day off. No report needed."
Back at Bones Manor, Amelia whistled a jaunty tune as she prepared to floo Augusta about Susan. Her mind was calm for the first time in days. "I gave them a chance," she thought. "It's a simple fix—if they can manage it."
That afternoon, Amelia and Susan stepped out of the floo into the grand sitting room of Potter Manor. The moment they arrived, Susan darted toward the kitchen, clearly eager to avoid witnessing their reunion. Amelia laughed, watching her niece disappear, then turned to Harry and pulled him into a kiss that left them both breathless.
"You're in a good mood," Harry said, though his tone carried a hint of suspicion.
"Finally dealt with a problem that's been weighing on me," Amelia replied with a satisfied smile.
Harry opened his mouth to ask more, but Amelia pressed a finger gently to his lips. "Not today," she murmured.
Understanding, Harry nodded.
The two joined Susan for lunch in the dining room, the quiet clinking of silverware the only sound. Amelia couldn't help but notice Susan's occasional glances, her suspicion clearly growing as the silence stretched on. Finally, Susan set down her fork with a deliberate motion and cleared her throat.
"All right, what's going on?" she asked, her tone direct. "You two are never this quiet during a meal."
Amelia sighed. There was no point in beating around the bush. "Harry and I have decided we want to live together," she said, meeting her niece's gaze. "We wanted your opinion on whether Harry moves into Bones Manor with us, or you and I move in here."
Susan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She blinked a few times before responding. "Well… Bones Manor has been my home for as long as I can remember. It would feel strange to leave. But..." She trailed off, her face turning pink. "Potter Manor is bigger, you know... for a family... when you start having children."
Amelia raised an amused eyebrow at Susan's blush but stayed quiet, letting her think it through. Harry gave her hand a comforting squeeze under the table as they waited.
After a moment, Susan let out a breath. "I think it makes the most sense for you to live here, Auntie. You'll be Lady Potter-Black by next summer anyway, so it feels fitting. I'm fine with coming along until I finish Hogwarts and figure out where I want to live."
Amelia smiled softly. "When you and Neville get married, Bones Manor can be yours, if you'd like."
Susan's cheeks flamed at that, but she smiled back. "I'll think about it."
"Susan," Harry said gently, leaning forward, "why don't you find Utterson and let him know what changes you'd like made to your room?"
"Alright, Uncle," Susan said with a playful grin, the teasing edge to her tone belying the sparkle in her eyes. She stood and practically skipped out of the room, humming to herself.
As the door closed behind her, Amelia turned to Harry, her expression softening as she studied him. "I guess that settles it," she said quietly. "We're moving in together. Are you sure you're ready for me full time?"
Harry smiled, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. "I wouldn't want it any other way."
Amelia leaned forward, brushing her lips against his in a tender kiss. "Me either," she murmured, a hint of mischief creeping into her tone. "I think I'll take a walk around the house and make notes for Utterson on any changes I'd like as well. It's a good opportunity to get a proper feel for the place."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Meet you in the study later?"
"Of course." Amelia smirked and left the dining room, her strides confident and purposeful. Harry watched her go, a contented smile lingering on his face.
O – o – o – o
It took a week for Amelia and Susan to settle completely into Potter Manor. Utterson was ecstatic when Amelia handed him a detailed list of changes to the manor, eagerly throwing himself into the work. Alice, meanwhile, made a point of cooking Harry bacon and eggs every morning as thanks for finally bringing a family into the house.
Harry loved seeing Amelia's personal touches spring up around the manor—framed photos of Susan as a child, elegant yet practical furniture in her study, and vibrant, fresh-cut flowers in the sitting rooms. Yet, more than anything, he foundherpresence distracting in the best possible way. Knowing she was just a few rooms away made it nearly impossible to focus. Training or studying in the library was an exercise in willpower when all he really wanted was to find her and kiss her senseless against the nearest surface.
The transition hadn't been entirely smooth, though.
The morning after discussing the move with Susan, Harry was in his office drafting a letter to Griphook. He was asking the goblins to investigate the vaults of known Death Eaters for potential Horcruxes when Amelia came in, asking if they could talk.
She sat across from him, her expression calm but serious, and told him why she'd been in such a good mood the day before. She described how she'd gathered information on the Dursleys over the past week, planned their punishment, and finally visited them.
Harry had listened silently, but his growing anger was evident in the clench of his jaw and the tightening grip on his quill. When Amelia finished, he didn't say a word—just stood, his chair scraping harshly against the floor, and stormed out of the room.
For the next two days, he avoided her entirely. Amelia didn't push him. She seemed to understand he needed time to process and work through his feelings. Harry noticed her watching him occasionally, a sad look flickering in her eyes, as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. When she did speak, it was always gentle, brief, and accompanied by a soft kiss before she went back to unpacking or redecorating.
On the third day, Harry realised he was being unreasonable. Deep down, he understood she'd acted out of care for him. And truthfully, her punishment for the Dursleys wasn't unjust—it simply demanded they show a fraction of the compassion they'd denied him for so long.
Feeling foolish, Harry found his way to Amelia's study and knocked. She looked up from a stack of parchment, her expression unreadable.
"I'm sorry," he began, sitting across from her. "I've been avoiding you and acting like a brat. I'm not upset about what you did. I think I'm just hurt that you didn't tell me about it beforehand. I wish you'd included me."
Amelia nodded, her face softening. "I understand, Harry. It felt like something I needed to do on my own. But looking back, I see how it might have hurt you, and for that, I'm sorry. Honestly…" She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I didn't tell you because I thought you might stop me."
Harry considered her words and then nodded. Standing, he moved to her side, leaned down, and kissed her—slowly, deliberately, as if to erase the distance of the past two days.
"Have lunch with me?" he asked softly when they broke apart.
Amelia responded with an equally fervent kiss, and just like that, the tension between them dissolved.
The rest of the week went smoothly. By the middle of July, Harry received his O.W.L. results. While he hadn't done poorly—aside from the expected failure in History of Magic—he was disappointed in his performance. He knew his scores weren't a true reflection of his potential. He'd allowed himself to get distracted too often over the years, rarely studying beyond what was necessary to scrape by.
"I need to make my studies a priority for my N.E.W.T.s," he muttered to himself, pacing his office.
That afternoon, he asked Sirius for advice.
"Sirius, what do you think? Should I retake my O.W.L.s?"
"You could, but honestly, you did well enough to continue with the important subjects for N.E.W.T.s. If it were me, I wouldn't bother. Focus on smashing your N.E.W.T.s instead. That's what people care about, not your O.W.L.s. If you review the material thoroughly, you'll be fine."
Harry nodded, feeling reassured. "Thanks, Sirius."
That evening, Harry and Amelia sat curled together on their favourite loveseat, which Amelia had moved to their bedroom for privacy. Susan had learned the hard way not to knock on their door unless it was a true emergency. She only made that mistake once.
"How was your day, 'Melia?" Harry asked between lazy, languid kisses.
"Productive," Amelia replied, brushing her fingers through his hair. "I met with Dumbledore this morning about the Horcruxes he's located. We're organising a team to retrieve them. Oh, and I convinced him to allow Moody and some of the Aurors to continue training with you when you return to Hogwarts."
"Could my friends train with them too?" Harry asked eagerly, pulling back slightly. "There are several students who really want to learn how to defend themselves. The D.A. last year showed me how much potential some of them have. It could be good for them."
Amelia considered this, her brow furrowing thoughtfully. "You're probably right, given their knack for following you into danger." She smirked, brushing a kiss against his temple. "I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks, Amelia," Harry murmured, pulling her closer for another kiss, slower and deeper this time.
"Mhmm, before you distract me," said Amelia pushing him away. "Your internship with the Auror corp can start at the end of the week if that works for you. It will be three mornings a week for the rest of the summer."
"That's fine." Said Harry leaning in for a kiss, but Amelia stopped him with her hand.
"There's one more thing."
"Okay." Said Harry.
"The next Wizengamot session is in two weeks, on the 30th. I think it would be a good time for you to claim your seats. That will give you two sessions to get used to how things work and then you can decide if you want to keep attending or appoint proxies when you go back to Hogwarts." Harry moaned. He was excited about training with Moody but he was dreading claiming his Wizengamot seats and was honestly hoping to put it off for as long as possible. He hated politics, but he knew he had to play the game at least for now.
"If I agree will you let me kiss you?" Amelia nodded enthusiastically.
"Then I agree." He said as he claimed her lips with his let out a growl when they were interrupted again, this time by Jekyll. The amount of mail Harry was getting seemed to be increasing daily and Harry was having difficulty keeping up with it. So, he had tasked Jekyll with screening all of his mail and bringing him anything from Amelia or something he deemed especially urgent and otherwise putting the rest aside for him to deal with when he had time. In this moment he was regretting it.
"Harry, sir, you have an urgent letter from Gringotts," said Jekyll, handing him a crisp envelope.
"Thank you, Jekyll," Harry replied, accepting the note. He waved the elf away before breaking the seal. His eyes scanned the short message, his brow furrowing, then he handed the letter to Amelia.
Lord Potter-Black,
We have found what you are looking for. Please come to Gringotts as soon as possible.
Regards,
Griphook
"Do you think they've found a Horcrux?" Amelia asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
"I'd assume so," Harry said, already planning their next steps. "Are you free to go with me in the morning?"
"I can be. Let me just rearrange a few things," she said, giving him a quick kiss before standing and pulling on her robe. "I'll be back shortly—and then we can pick up where we left off."
True to her word, Amelia returned swiftly, and they weren't interrupted for the rest of the night—much to both their satisfaction.
The next morning, Harry and Amelia arrived at Gringotts. They were ushered into an opulent office, far grander than the rooms Harry had seen on prior visits. They were seated across from Griphook, who was mid-sentence when the ornate doors swung open.
A procession of goblins entered, their armour gleaming and weapons sharp. They lined the walls, standing at attention as a larger goblin strode in. He wore full warrior regalia, the heavy plating adorned with intricate designs that exuded both power and artistry.
Griphook rose immediately and bowed low, prompting Harry and Amelia to follow suit.
"King Ragnuk, you honour us with your presence," said Griphook, his tone awed.
"You may rise, Master Griphook," said Ragnuk before turning to Harry. "Lord Potter-Black, may your business here be profitable, and may gold continue flowing into your vaults."
Harry straightened, caught off guard by the goblin king's presence. "You as well, sir," he replied awkwardly, wincing slightly. He wasn't sure if goblins even had vaults, but he didn't know what else to say.
Ragnuk inclined his head, then conjured a chair for himself and sat beside Griphook.
"First, let me thank you, on behalf of the goblin nation, for bringing this matter to our attention. The discovery of a dark artefact within Gringotts is a grave violation of trust. Our terms are explicit: soul containers are not permitted in any vault under our protection."
"It was no problem," Harry said carefully, unsure how much gratitude to accept.
Ragnuk continued, his tone more somber. "Unfortunately, the treaty established after the last… disagreement between wizards and goblins prohibits us from entering a wizard's vault without their presence, even if they violate their contract. The most we can do is fine them or revoke access to the vault entirely. Normally, that would be our course of action. However, I suspect the object in question is of particular importance to you."
Harry nodded. "I believe it contains a piece of Voldemort's soul. He's made several of these… soul containers, and we're working to find and destroy them."
Ragnuk frowned thoughtfully. "So, you wish to retrieve it yourself?"
"Yes, but if your treaty prevents you from entering the vault, how can we access it?"
"The only individuals who can legally enter the vault are its owners: Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange," said Ragnuk.
Harry grimaced at the names, his thoughts racing. "Right. So, what do you suggest?"
Ragnuk's expression turned sharp, almost predatory. "I suggest you challenge Rodolphus Lestrange to a wizard's duel."
"What?!" Amelia exclaimed, her voice rising.
"Let's hear him out," Harry said quickly, squeezing her hand to calm her. He wasn't thrilled by the idea either, but he doubted there were many other options.
Ragnuk explained, "According to your laws, any head of house may challenge another head of house to a duel to the death over any perceived slight. If you win, the Lestrange vault will pass to you by right of conquest. You would then be free to retrieve the Horcrux."
"And Bellatrix?" Harry asked warily.
"She would have the right to challenge you for control of the vault, but I doubt Voldemort would risk her in a formal duel. More likely, he'll send her on a… less direct mission of revenge. Either way, by the time she acts, you will have destroyed the artefact."
"No, absolutely not!" Amelia interjected, standing abruptly. "There has to be another way."
"The alternative," Ragnuk replied calmly, "is to revoke access to the vault and wait for the object to be automatically removed as payment once the gold runs out. But that could take a decade."
"I'll do it," Amelia said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.
"No, Amelia," Harry said, turning to face her. He took both her hands in his. "I can do this. You have to have faith in me. If I can't beat Lestrange, what chance do I have against Voldemort?"
Amelia stared at him for a long moment, then sighed.
"You'll need a second," said Ragnuk casually.
"Really, Ragnuk? Who else would it be?" she added sharply.
"As you wish, Director," Ragnuk said with a grin that made Harry shiver.
Over the next hour, they worked with Ragnuk to draft a formal duel challenge.
"What about the wording?" Harry asked. "I assume, like with most contracts, phrasing is crucial. I want to avoid loopholes that might get me killed—or, well more likely to get killed."
Ragnuk snapped his fingers, and a parchment appeared on the desk. "I anticipated this concern. This draft ensures the terms are heavily in your favour. No one can interfere, and the duel must remain one-on-one."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What do the goblins get out of this?"
"Very astute, Lord Potter-Black," Ragnuk said with an approving nod. "Lestrange is a wanted fugitive. He won't agree to duel anywhere associated with the Ministry. We propose holding the duel in our duelling ring. It is neutral territory, and we will ensure a fair fight. In return, we request the right to witness the duel. It has been… centuries since we have seen such an event."
Harry hesitated, then nodded. "Fair enough."
"Very well," Ragnuk continued. "As the challenger, you may select the place. Lestrange will then choose the date and time—within a two-week window."
"Let's set it for August 15th to August 30th," Harry said after a moment's thought.
"Excellent. Review the letter carefully before signing. Once sent, there is no turning back."
Harry and Amelia leaned over the parchment, their expressions grim.
The challenge had been set.
O – o – o - o
The rest of the week passed quickly. Harry spent nearly every free moment honing his dueling skills with Sirius' guidance. Amelia joined him as often as she could, offering tips, teaching him new spells, and serving as an excellent sparring partner. Watching her duel, confident and precise, was mesmerizing. Harry couldn't help but admire the way she moved in combat—it was thrilling and, frankly, incredibly attractive. If he survived the upcoming duel, he'd make sure to tell her just how much it affected him.
By Friday, Harry was preparing to start his internship with Moody. Anticipating a grueling first day, he opted for a shorter morning workout than usual. Amelia had already left for the Ministry by the time he finished his run, so after a light breakfast and a long, relaxing shower, he used the floo connection to reach Amelia's office.
Amelia didn't often use her private floo, preferring to walk through the Ministry and keep an eye on things. But she'd given Harry access so he wouldn't have to deal with the usual questioning about why he was visiting the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"A special delivery for Lady Potter-Black," Harry announced as he stepped gracefully out of the fireplace.
Amelia's normally stern expression softened the instant she saw him. "Ah yes, very special," she replied, her tone husky.
Harry walked around her desk, leaned down, and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.
"You're early," she murmured when he pulled back, a rare smile playing on her lips.
Harry shrugged. "I missed you."
"Hmm, I missed you too," she admitted, her smile widening slightly as he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk.
"I'm almost finished here," she said, gesturing to the paperwork on her desk. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll walk you down to the training rooms."
Harry nodded and settled into his seat, watching her work. He couldn't help but admire her in her element—focused, determined, and commanding. Even something as mundane as signing forms seemed fascinating when Amelia did it. The sharp focus of her eyes, the occasional adjustment of her monocle—it was as captivating to him as watching her duel.
After a few minutes, unable to resist any longer, Harry stood and walked around to her side of the desk. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, halting the movement of her quill.
"You know," Amelia said with a teasing smile, "there's a reason I don't invite you here."
"Oh?"
"I'd never get anything done."
Harry grinned, pulling her to her feet and wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Do you have any plans this weekend, Director Bones?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.
"I don't think so," Amelia replied, smirking. "Why? Do you?"
"Well, that depends," Harry said as he began steering her gently toward the wall.
"On what?" Amelia asked, her voice hitching slightly as her back pressed against the cool surface.
"On whether or not my fiancée will join me at the villa," Harry murmured as he pressed a kiss to the pulse point on her neck.
"Oh… well," Amelia said breathlessly, her resolve slipping as her cheeks flushed, "I'm sure she can be persuaded."
"Hmm, perhaps this will persuade her." Said Harry moving his mouth towards her ear.
"Amelia," he whispered causing Amelia to moan. "I am going to make love to you. All night long. So you better conserve your energy until then. You are going to need it," he said before plunging his tongue into her mouth and moving his hands down to grab her ass. Harry didn't know how long they were snogging, but a gasp from the door caused them to pull apart.
When they broke apart Amelia's face was flushed, her was hair messy, and her breathing was ragged, but Harry was impressed by how quickly she regained her composure, and with a flick of her wand her hair and clothing were put to right as well.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," stammered the thoroughly embarrassed secretary. "I did try to knock," she added, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on the floor, avoiding eye contact with both Amelia and Harry.
"Miss Clearwater," Amelia began, her voice sharp but calm. "Do you enjoy working for me?"
"Yes, ma'am," Penelope said quickly, her tone laced with surprise and just a hint of apprehension.
"Good," Amelia replied, her cheeks still faintly flushed, though her demeanor was every inch that of the seasoned leader she was. "Then I'm certain your discretion is guaranteed."
"Of course, ma'am," Penelope said, nodding vigorously. She didn't miss the unmistakable edge in Amelia's words, a polite yet clear warning.
"Excellent. Now, what can I do for you, Miss Clearwater?"
Penelope cleared her throat, still flustered. "Oh, yes! Um, Mr. Diggory called to ask if you were on your way. He said he was expecting you ten minutes ago."
"Ah." Amelia straightened her robes with a deliberate motion, her professional mask sliding neatly into place. "Please offer my apologies and let him know I need to stop by the Auror Corps first. Tell him to expect me in about twenty minutes."
"Yes, ma'am," Penelope replied, quickly retreating from the room, eager to escape the awkward tension.
As the door closed behind her, Amelia turned to Harry, her flirty smile back in place. "Come on, lover boy. Let's go before you get me into even more trouble."
Harry chuckled as Amelia smoothed the front of her robes, her grace and poise returning in full force. With a final glance to ensure everything was in order, she strode out of her office with Harry trailing behind, his grin lingering as they disappeared down the hallway.
Amelia led Harry down to the Auror training rooms and pushed him through a set of double doors with an exasperated sigh.
"I expect you to work hard, Lord Potter-Black," she said with a wry smile before walking away.
Harry watched her retreating figure for a moment, thinking to himself, 'Yep, stern Amelia is hot.'
When he turned back around, he was met with the unsettling sight of Alastor Moody, who was staring at him with a gleeful expression that could only mean trouble. Harry gulped.
"Sirius," Harry thought desperately.
"Yes, pup?" came the quick reply.
"You might want to stick around for this. Then we can debrief later."
"Looking forward to it, pup. Good luck. Remember—play to your strengths and focus on his weaknesses."
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath as Moody gestured for him to follow.
"Potter, with me," barked Moody, already limping down the hallway. Harry followed, steeling himself.
Moody stopped at a large set of double doors and pushed them open, letting Harry enter first. The training room was vast, similar to the one at the manor, but with stadium-style seating surrounding the perimeter for spectators.
"Amelia tells me Dumbledore's finally gotten his head out of his arse and realized you need proper training," growled Moody, his magical eye swiveling wildly as he surveyed Harry.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied, keeping his voice steady.
"Good. Don't think I'm going to take it easy on you just because you're engaged to the boss lady," Moody said, his mouth twisting into a smirk that reminded Harry of a goblin's sneer.
"I wouldn't expect you to," said Harry firmly.
"Then let's begin."
STUPEFY!
Harry batted the spell away with ease and raised an eyebrow at ? He's starting with a Stupefy? He must be testing me,Harry thought.
INCARCEROUS!
CONFRINGO!
DEPRIMO!
The spells came fast, and Harry barely dodged the first and raised a shield for the others. Moody's relentless attack forced him to move constantly, dodging and countering where he could.
"Move and fire, move and fire," Harry repeated in his mind, recalling Amelia's drilling. He dodged another curse and retaliated with a rapid sequence of spells.
BRACHIABINDO!
LEVICORPUS!
The room became a whirlwind of motion as Harry dodged, shielded, and counter attacked. He noticed Moody's precision, his spells aimed not just at Harry but at where Harry would move. It was both frustrating and exhilarating.
After several minutes, an idea struck. He fired off a quick Glacio, turning a section of the floor into a sheet of ice. Sprinting forward, he dropped to his knees and slid across the icy surface, silently casting a Bombarda toward Moody.
Moody's magical eye whirled as he conjured a shield, deflecting the spell, which exploded against the wall behind him. The blast left a gaping hole and filled part of the room with dust and debris.
"Good," growled Moody, his voice full of approval even as he fired a rapid Relashio at Harry, forcing him to dodge again.
Harry's mind raced, "What's his weakness?" He considered the situation. "We're evenly matched in power, but he's got experience and can predict my moves. My only real edge is speed and patience. He underestimates me."
His eyes flicked to the debris scattered across the floor, and an idea clicked.
DURA SPICULUM!
Harry pointed his wand at the rubble, concentrating hard. The broken stone trembled, then began to reshape into jagged, spear-like shards. With a feral grin, Harry slashed his wand through the air, and the spikes hurtled toward Moody.
For the first time, Harry saw a flash of surprise—maybe even fear—in Moody's eye. The older man conjured a powerful shield, deflecting the projectiles, but Harry had anticipated this.
As Moody lowered his shield, Harry cast a final shard, sending it silently and swiftly. It grazed Moody's arm before embedding itself in the wall behind him.
Harry stood frozen for a moment, panting, as he processed what had just happened. I can't believe that worked.
But his momentary distraction cost him.
DIFFINDO!
Harry barely registered the spell before a sharp line of pain seared across his cheek.
"End!" Moody barked, his voice ringing through the room.
Harry lowered his wand but remained alert. Moody's approving gaze told him the fight was truly over.
"Wand down, Potter. We're done. Though your vigilance is noted," Moody said with a smirk.
Harry relaxed and looked around, realizing the stadium-style seating was now packed with spectators—Aurors and Ministry employees alike—watching him with awe and disbelief.
Apparently, news of the Boy-Who-Lived dueling Mad-Eye Moody spreads fast, he thought with a smirk. His eyes flicked to the doorway, where Amelia stood, her gaze alight with something that made his stomach flip. 'Focus, Potter. Later.'
"That was impressive," Moody said, limping toward Harry. "Battle transfiguration is clearly a strong suit of yours, and your silent casting is well-developed. You're not bad at dueling for someone your age."
"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, still catching his breath.
"Next time, work on longer spell chains. If you can master them silently, all the better. Also, practice apparition during combat. Most don't expect it, and it can be a game-changer—especially in a formal duel like the one you've got coming with Lestrange."
Harry nodded, his resolve hardening.
"Good. See you Monday, Potter. Next time, I expect you to beat me." Moody offered a rare, genuine grin before heading off to get his arm healed.
"Well done, pup," came Sirius's voice. "Lestrange is in for a shock. We'll talk later—I have some pointers for you."
Harry smiled at the praise, but his attention was soon drawn to Tonks, who bounded up to him with a wide grin.
"That was bloody brilliant, Harry! I've never seen anyone hold their own against Moody like that."
"Thanks, Tonks," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Think we could duel sometime? I'd love to learn from you."
"Sure. I'm here three days a week, and we can arrange for you to come to the manor sometime too."
"Deal." Tonks grinned mischievously. "Now, go find your boss lady. I'm sure she'll want to kiss that scratch better."
Harry smirked, nodding before heading toward Amelia, already imagining the kind of "healing" she had in mind.