The fourth-year Transfiguration class with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws was in full swing. The air was filled with the familiar scent of parchment and ink, mixed with the slight metallic tang of the enchanted materials used in their lessons. Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room, her sharp eyes surveying the students as she explained their task for the day , "Today, we will be working on cross-species switches. This is a complex spell that requires precision and control. Pair up and begin with the instructions on the board."
Harry Potter paired with Hermione Granger, as always. The two shared a look of confidence. As McGonagall waved her wand, the instructions appeared on the blackboard:
1. Focus on the incantation: Transmutare Speciei.
2. Visualize the transformation in your mind.
3. Channel your magic through your wand.
Harry glanced at Hermione, and then at the small mouse on his desk. Without a word, he pointed his wand at the creature and whispered, "Transmutare Speciei." In an instant, the mouse morphed into a beautiful, white dove. The change was smooth, and Harry barely took couple of seconds to do it. Hermione followed suit, her movements just as fluid and precise. Her mouse transformed into a beautiful, vibrant butterfly. She smiled at Harry, who returned her grin.
McGonagall walked around the classroom, observing the pairs. When she reached Harry and Hermione, she nodded approvingly. "Well done, Potter, Granger. As expected. 10 points for Gryffindor for completing the transfiguration first, successfully."
The rest of the class struggled with the spell, some managing partial transformations, and some did complete the transfiguration, while others could only change minor features.
Ron Weasley, partnered with Neville Longbottom, managed to turn his mouse into something resembling a furry ball with wings, that was more like a furry snitch, but a little bigger in size, much to their mutual frustration. The ball of fluff squeaked indignantly and tried to take off, flapping its crooked, ineffective wings.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were faring no better. Seamus, known for his tendency to cause explosions, had somehow managed to create a creature that was half-mouse, half-toad, which croaked and scurried around their desk in a rather disconcerting manner. Dean laughed so hard that he accidentally knocked over an ink bottle, which spilled on the half-mouse toad that squeaked and croaked which produced a funny sound. This added more to their chaos.
As the lesson continued, the room filled with various animal noises and the occasional exclamation of frustration. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled as their attempts resulted in a mouse with butterfly wings that fluttered around their heads.
Finally, as the lesson came towards the end, McGonagall clapped her hands for attention. "Students class dismissed. Gryffindors, please gather in the common room. I have an important announcement." The Gryffindors hurried to their common room, curiosity buzzing among them. Once everyone was assembled, McGonagall stood before them, her expression a mix of sternness and excitement.
"Students, as you know, the Triwizard Tournament is being hosted at Hogwarts this year. As part of the festivities, there will be a Yule Ball, a tradition that dates back centuries." She paused, letting the news sink in. A murmur of excitement spread through the room. McGonagall continued, "The Yule Ball will be held on Christmas Eve and is open to all students in their fourth year and above."
A chorus of groans erupted from the third years, who looked thoroughly disappointed. McGonagall allowed herself a small smile at their reaction. "However, if a fourth-year or older student wishes to invite a younger student, they may do so. But, you must submit your partner's name to me in advance."
The room buzzed with excitement and nervous energy. McGonagall raised her hand for silence. "Furthermore, it is essential that you all find a date for the ball. Dancing is a significant part of the evening, and everyone is expected to participate. From next week, we will start dance practice sessions, and it is mandatory for those attending the ball to join."
Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione. He knows how to dance pretty very well. Harry is a pure-blood because of the blood adoption by Sirius Black, who is a pure blood. So, he was not worried about the dancing lessons. Right now he was thinking something that is extremely crucial for him, that is planning a mind-blowing way to ask her to be his date for the Yule. He knew it has to be something special for his gorgeous girlfriend.
McGonagall finished with a nod. "That will be all. Prepare yourselves, and remember, this is a night to represent Gryffindor proudly."
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Harry's early years in Russia were filled with rigorous training and unparalleled mentorship, shaping him into a formidable duelist long before he set foot in Hogwarts. This period was marked by the guidance of two exceptional mentors who honed his skills in ways that would later astonish his peers.
Master Flitwick, renowned as the undefeated and formidable duelist of England, had been a relentless force in Harry's life since he was a child. Despite the vast distance, Flitwick's unwavering dedication to Harry's training knew no bounds. He made frequent, arduous journeys to Russia, driven by a commitment that was as fierce as his own reputation. Flitwick's teaching style was nothing short of merciless and ruthless, molding Harry into a dueling prodigy through sheer will and unyielding discipline.
Flitwick's sessions were brutal and unremitting. He brought with him a vast arsenal of dueling techniques that spanned all forms of weaponry and wand magic, each more challenging than the last. The training grounds would often resemble a battlefield, with Flitwick unleashing a torrent of spells that Harry was forced to counter with precision and speed. The smallest mistake was met with harsh correction, driving Harry to achieve perfection in his execution.
Under Flitwick's tutelage and Master Egous's training, Harry's wand became an extension of himself, wielded with deadly accuracy and immeasurable power. The lessons were a relentless gauntlet of drills and duels, where Harry was pitted against illusions, enchanted constructs, and even Flitwick himself. The master duelist spared no effort in pushing Harry to his limits, employing a ruthless methodology that demanded the utmost from his young protégé.
Each session was a test of endurance and ingenuity. Flitwick's approach was unforgiving, designed to prepare Harry for the worst scenarios imaginable. He drilled Harry on spells and counter-spells, offensive and defensive spells with a ferocity that left no room for error. Flitwick's eyes were always sharp, missing nothing, and his feedback was as cutting as his spells, aimed at refining Harry's technique to a razor's edge. There was no sympathy, only the brutal drive for excellence.
Flitwick's lessons extended beyond the mere mechanics of dueling. He instilled in Harry the importance of psychological warfare, teaching him to read an opponent's moves, anticipate their strategies, and exploit their weaknesses with ruthless efficiency. The mental fortitude required was immense, and Flitwick ensured Harry developed a steel-like resilience, unshakable even in the most dire of circumstances. By the end of each session, Harry was left physically exhausted but mentally sharper, having faced and overcome the relentless challenges set before him. Flitwick's unyielding methods, though brutal, were incredibly effective.
Complementing Flitwick's teachings was the Swedish wizard Wilmer Östberg, whose expertise lay in the ancient and often misunderstood arts of parsel magic, shadow magic, and elemental magic. Östberg was a close friend of Harry's great-grandfather, Henry Potter, and had taken a special interest in Harry's potential from a young age. Unlike Flitwick's structured and disciplined approach, Östberg's methods were extremely difficult and deeply rooted in the magical traditions of his homeland.
Under Östberg's guidance, Harry delved into the world of duelling using parsel magic. This rare skill gave Harry an edge that only few others possessed in the entire world. Östberg also introduced Harry to shadow magic, teaching him to manipulate shadows and use them to his advantage in both offensive and defensive maneuvers. This form of magic required a deep understanding of one's own fears and the ability to control them, something that Harry mastered through intense meditation and practice.
Wilmer Östberg
Shadow magic is the darkest and most potent form of arcane power, a very ancient art that allows the wielder to manipulate and control the very essence of shadows. This mystical power transcends the conventional limits of time and space, enabling the caster to bend reality to their will. Practitioners can summon shadows to cloak themselves in invisibility, traverse great distances instantly, and even manipulate the fears and thoughts of others. Its unmatched power can obliterate entire armies with a mere thought, reduce the strongest fortresses to rubble, and shroud entire cities in eternal darkness. The wielder commands legions of shadow creatures, invisible to the naked eye and capable of striking with lethal precision. Unlike physical or elemental magic, or even parsel magic, shadow magic is intangible and elusive, making it nearly impossible to defend against. It seeps through the smallest cracks, bypassing barriers and wards effortlessly.
One of its most terrifying aspects is its ability to control the minds of others, inducing paralyzing fear, hallucinations, and compelling enemies to turn against each other. At its most extreme, shadow magic can plunge entire worlds into perpetual night, draining the life force of all living beings and turning vibrant landscapes into desolate wastelands. Masters of shadow magic achieve a form of twisted immortality, becoming nearly invulnerable as their physical forms merge with the shadows. Reforming their bodies from the shadows themselves, they are exceedingly difficult to kill. Shadow magic is shrouded in mystery and forbidden knowledge, offering secrets of the universe at a great cost, often consuming the sanity and soul of the caster. In the hands of a true master like Harry Potter-Black, shadow magic is a force of nature, capable of reshaping the world and bending it to their will, the ultimate weapon of fear and domination that strikes terror into the hearts of even the bravest wizards.
Elemental magic, perhaps the most complex of Östberg's teachings, allowed Harry to connect with the natural elements—earth, water, fire, and air. He learned to summon and control these elements, using them to enhance his spells or create powerful new ones. Östberg's training sessions were often held in the wild terrains of Russia, where Harry faced the raw power of nature and learned to bend it to his will. This connection with the elements made Harry exceptionally attuned to his environment, able to sense and react to changes with a keen awareness.
Flitwick's teachings had made Harry a master of precision and technique, able to outthink and outmaneuver any opponent. Östberg's influence had imbued him with a deep connection to the magical forces of the world, granting him abilities that can be said as supernatural. Together, these mentors and Master Egous had forged Harry into a prodigious talent, a duelist whose prowess was unmatched by any formidable, powerful witch or wizard.
(This is an intro about the duelling lessons that Harry has had since he was a kid)
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It was time for Charms lessons and the students settled into their seats when, "Good morning, class!" Professor Flitwick's cheerful voice greeted them. "Today, we will be working on the Banishing Charm, Depulso. It's a vital spell that can save you in many a tight spot, particularly in duels or when you need to quickly clear an area."
Harry exchanged a knowing look with Hermione. Harry became a pro in this when he was just 8 years old and Harry and Hermione had discussed the Banishing Charm during their study sessions where he taught hermione about it.
The students perked up, their interest piqued. Flitwick's excitement for the subject was contagious, and soon the room was filled with a sense of anticipation.
"Now, the Banishing Charm works by repelling an object away from the caster. It's the opposite of the Summoning Charm, Accio. It is used to push targets, both living beings and inanimate objects towards a specific location. Proper wand movement and intent are crucial here, The spell is Depulso" Flitwick continued, demonstrating the wand movement with a sweep. "Everyone, take out your wands and practice the motion with me."
Harry moved his wand with confidence. Hermione followed along, her movements precise as always, even though this was her first formal lesson in dueling magic.
Flitwick walked around the classroom, observing the students' wand movements and offering tips. "Remember, it's not just about the movement but also the intention behind the spell. You need to feel the magic flowing through you and direct it to your wand with a purpose."
Harry flicked his wand in a sweep. He felt the familiar surge of magic as his desk slid a few inches away. Hermione watched him intently, her eyes gleaming with determination. She mimicked his movement as well.
"Excellent! Now, let's try it on some real objects," Flitwick instructed. He waved his wand, and a collection of cushions appeared at the front of the classroom. "Pair up and take turns banishing these cushions to the back of the room. Remember, focus on the intent and the wand movement."
Harry partnered with Hermione, both of them eager to put their skills to the test. Harry went first, his wand movements fluid and precise and fast. "Depulso!" he said firmly, and the cushion flew across the room, landing neatly at the back wall.
Hermione, though new to the practical side of dueling, quickly caught up with Harry's lead. She took a deep breath, focused her mind, and flicked her wand. "Depulso!" The cushion followed a similar trajectory, a little slowly, joining Harry's cushion at the back of the room.
Around the room, a mix of success and chaos ensued. Neville Longbottom, determined but anxious, pointed his wand at the cushion and muttered, "Depulso!" The cushion shot off sideways, narrowly missing Parvati Patil, who squeaked in surprise and turned towards Neville with wide eyes and an open mouth as if he tried to murder her in cold blood.
"Keep your wrist steady, Mr. Longbottom," Flitwick called out, quickly guiding Neville to correct his technique.
Meanwhile, Seamus Finnigan, with his usual love for unintended explosions, managed to banish his cushion straight into the ceiling, where it got stuck and blasted, sending roasted feathers all around the class. Dean Thomas, his partner, couldn't help but laugh. "Nice transfiguration during charms, Seamus," he teased.
Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, working together, successfully sent their cushions flying across the room, earning an approving nod from Flitwick. "Good effort, Miss Brown, Miss Patil. Just a bit more power behind the spell next time."
Ron Weasley, with his characteristic confusion, aimed at his cushion and said, "Depulso!" The cushion moved, albeit slowly, towards the back of the room. "Not bad," he muttered to himself with a grin on his face, pleased with his progress. "Great work! Try to channel a bit more power into the spell, Mr. Weasley." Professor Flitwick praised.
The classroom buzzed with activity as the students practiced the charm, cushions and other objects flying in all directions and hitting some in the process. A shooting paper weight was stopped from hitting Neville when Harry, immediately banished it away before it touches Neville. Flitwick moved among them, offering encouragement and advice.
After about an hour of practice, the classroom was a scene of controlled chaos, with cushions scattered everywhere. Professor Flitwick clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Well done, everyone! You've made excellent progress today. Remember to practice this charm as it can be quite useful in various situations."
As the class began to pack up, Harry made his way to Flitwick's desk, Hermione at his side. The buzz of students chatting and gathering their things filled the room, but Harry was moving towards the tiny professor.
"Professor Flitwick," Harry began, clearing his throat, "I was wondering if we could continue our dueling lessons here at Hogwarts, the lessons you taught me when I was in Russia can we continue doing that professor? I think it would be best to keep practicing."
Flitwick's eyes twinkled with delight. "Of course, Harry! I'd be happy to continue our dueling lessons. When would be a convenient time for you?"
Harry thought for a moment. "I can be flexible, Professor. What time works best for you?"
Flitwick tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Fridays from 6 pm to 8 pm would be ideal. You see, Harry, our duels are always quite intense and, dare I say, too dangerous and nasty. Scheduling them at the end of the week means we both can get the well-needed rest over the weekend to recover from all the damages the lessons would cause. I'll get permission from Headmaster Dumbledore and arrange for us to have dinner privately afterwards. I'll also inform Minerva about this."
Harry grinned, relieved and excited. "That sounds perfect, thank you, Professor. And, um, would it be possible for Hermione to join us? She loves to learn professional dueling, though she prefers to use her wand only."
Flitwick nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely, Hermione is always welcome to join. The more, the merrier!", he cheered. Anyone who looks at Professor Flitwick during duelling would take a magical oath that he is just a doppelganger of the real professor, because he is ruthless when it comes to duels.
Hermione, standing beside Harry, beamed. "Thank you so much, Professor Flitwick. I've been eager to improve my dueling skills, and this will be a wonderful opportunity."
Flitwick smiled warmly at her. "I'm sure you'll do splendidly, Miss Granger. Your dedication and skill will serve you very well, forever."
Harry hesitated for a moment and stepped towards the professor, away from Hermione and whispered very lowly, so she might not hear, "Also, Professor, could you please not mention my shadow magic to Hermione? She doesn't know about it, and I'd like to keep it that way for now."
Flitwick's expression turned serious, he knows that the young couple in front of him are magically bonded in a very powerful bond, the soul bond. Yet, Flitwick was confused on why Harry was hiding this from Hermione, instead of being proud that he is a master in shadow magic.
But still he gave Harry a reassuring nod. "Of course, Harry. Your secret is safe with me though I don't understand why you are keeping this as a secret." Hermione, curious about their conversation but respecting Harry's privacy, simply smiled when Harry turned towards her.
As they walked out of the classroom, Hermione couldn't help but ask, "Harry, what were you talking to Professor Flitwick about just now?"
Harry, thinking replied, "Mi, I promise that I'll tell you about that when the time is right."
Hermione nodded, accepting his explanation. "I'm really excited about this, Harry. It will be great to train together." Harry smiled and then gave her a quick peck on her lips, grateful for her understanding.
Harry Potter had always been a complex figure, embodying a perspective on magic that was far removed from the conventional norms of the wizarding world. He was a morally grey wizard, a term that might confuse or even alarm some, but it perfectly encapsulated his belief that magic itself was neither inherently good nor evil. To Harry, what truly defined a villain were their activities and intentions, the way they chose to wield their magical abilities.
Harry had mastered shadow magic, an ancient form of magic that is used by him to manipulate the very essence of darkness and shadows. His shadow and elemental magic was deeply intertwined with parsel magic. But Harry saw these abilities not as inherently evil, but as tools that, if used properly, could bring unparalleled protection to the magical world, especially for the protection of His Miracle.He believed they held the potential to cure diseases that defied conventional potions and spells, providing solutions where others saw only curses.
The Potters had always walked this line, embracing a grey approach to magic that set them apart from the more starkly categorized families. In contrast, the Blacks were known for their dark inclinations. His father, James Potter was also a grey fraction wizard. He stood with the light wizards during the war against Voldemort because, that noseless bastard was pure evil. But, Harry's perspective wasn't shared by everyone, particularly not by Hermione. Hermione Granger, brilliant and principled, held a more traditional view of magic, seeing it as divided into light and dark. Her belief in the dichotomy of magic guided her actions and her understanding of the world. Her acception of Harry's parsel magic is because she has read that Parsel magic is a rare type of family magic.
This fundamental difference in their views was a significant reason why Harry had kept his mastery of shadow magic a secret from Hermione. In many countries, shadow magic was considered darker even than parsel magic, and British magical law was particularly stringent in its condemnation. Harry feared that revealing this aspect of his abilities would alienate Hermione, that she would see him as something to be feared or even despised. The thought of her hating him was unbearable; he would rather Avada himself than live with her rejection.
Harry's experiences and beliefs had shaped a pragmatic view of how to deal with threats. He didn't believe that dark wizards and fanatics like the Death Eaters, whom he disdainfully referred to as "dark wankers" and "crazy bats," could be stopped with mere Stunning Spells. These were individuals devoid of any capacity for redemption, people whose cruelty and malice had no bounds. Harry believed in a more decisive approach: if they aimed to Crucio you, you should Avada them before their torture curse could even touch your shadow.
This pragmatism extended to his training and combat strategies. His time in Russia, under the tutelage of Master Flitwick, Master Östberg and Master Egous, had only reinforced this belief. Flitwick, an unbeatable duelist, had imparted the importance of quick, decisive action in duels. Östberg had shown him the boundless potential of shadow and elemental magic as well as duelling using parsel magic, powers that were shrouded in mystery and often misunderstood meanwhile, Egous has drowned him in Parsel magic and all it's ways.
(The reason why he hid about his shadow magic from Hermione. She does know about his elemental magic though.)
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The Herbology greenhouse hummed with anticipation as Professor Sprout prepared to introduce the day's lesson. "Good morning, everyone! Today, we'll be working individually with the Bouncing Bulb," she announced cheerfully, holding up a wriggling, purplish plant that seemed eager to break free. The bulb pulsed with energy, its leaves twitching as though ready to leap from her grasp.
"Now, the Bouncing Bulb can be quite spirited," she continued, eyes twinkling. "The key to successfully planting it is to be firm yet gentle. First, you must dig a hole big and deep enough to accommodate the entire bouncing bulb. Next, you'll need to gently, but securely, hold the bulb in place while covering it with soil. It's important to keep a steady grip, as the bulb will try to escape at every opportunity."
Professor Sprout demonstrated by using her wand to create a hole in the potting soil. She then carefully positioned the bulb, holding it steady with one hand while using the other to pack soil around it. The bulb wiggled and bounced, but she maintained a firm grip, pressing the soil down firmly. "There you have it," she said, patting the soil around the bulb one last time. "Once it's settled, give it a light watering and a kind word, and it should stay put."
The students watched attentively, some looking more confident than others. Hermione nodded, already planning her approach, while Neville beamed with excitement. Harry exchanged a wary look with Ron who was next to him. "This looks like real trouble, pure evil energy" Ron muttered, eyeing the bulb suspiciously.
"Alright, everyone, off you go! Remember, steady hands, few gentle words and a gentle touch," Professor Sprout encouraged, stepping back to observe the class as they got to work.
The students dispersed among the rows of potted plants, each selecting a bulb. As soon as Harry touched his bulb, it sprang to life, bouncing wildly in his hands and narrowly missing his nose as it ricocheted off the greenhouse ceiling.
Harry's bulb had now entangled itself in his hair, bouncing vigorously and pulling at his scalp. "Blimey! It's like a magical pogo stick with a vendetta!" he exclaimed, ducking to avoid another collision. The bulb rebounded off a hanging plant, causing a cascade of leaves to shower down on him. "Great, now I look like a salad gone rogue!", he murmured.
Ron's bulb seemed equally spirited. It wrapped its tendrils around his arm, yanking him off balance. Ron stumbled backward, knocking over a stack of empty pots with a loud crash. "Merlin's beard! This plant's got it in for me!" he shouted, trying to shake it loose. "I feel like I'm in a wrestling match with an over-caffeinated squid!" The bulb tightened its grip, bouncing Ron up and down like a rubber ball. "Oi! Get off me, you crazy vegetable!"
Harry, now dodging his own rogue bulb which seemed determined to take up residence in his hair, shouted over to Ron, "Mine's trying out for the Hogwarts Quidditch team! It's aiming for a spot as a rogue Bludger!"
Meanwhile, Neville, ever the plant whisperer, had already settled his bulb into its pot with ease. "Just need a gentle touch," he murmured to himself, patting the soil serenely. His bulb wiggled contentedly, almost purring under his care. By watching the spectacle, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Guys, Just...Just talk to it gently! They respond well to kindness!"
Nearby, Dean Thomas was wrestling with his own bulb, which had latched onto his robes and was bouncing him up and down like a hyperactive kangaroo on cocaine. "Help! It's turned me into a human trampoline!" he yelled, flailing his arms in a futile attempt to pry it off. "I didn't sign up for aerobics!"
The bulb seemed to relish its newfound role, catapulting Dean higher with each bounce. "Blimey, it's bouncing like I'm auditioning for the Cirque du Soleil!" Dean exclaimed, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and hilarity as he tried to maintain his balance.
Ron, still wrestling with his bulb, couldn't help but retort for that. "Hang in there, Dean! Maybe it just wants a hug!" he called out, earning a wheezy chuckle from Harry, who was having a hair salonist working with his hair, pulling his hair along with his scalp.
Dean, now resembling a ragdoll in the grips of a particularly enthusiastic toddler's grabby hands, screamed, "A hug? It feels more like a full-body tackle from a Quidditch Beater! Someone get this thing off me before I end up in the greenhouse rafters!"
Professor Sprout, with a deft flick of her wand, she managed to subdue Dean's bulb, gently sending it back into its pot. Dean landed on the ground with a thud, looking dazed but relieved.
"Well, that was quite the workout," he panted, straightening his robes and wiping sweat from his brow. "I never knew Herbology could be so... bouncy?"
Meanwhile, Neville was now trying to help Hermione, who was struggling a little with her own rebellious plant. "Just be gentle, Hermione! Talk to it like you would to a puppy," Neville advised, as Hermione's bulb attempted to make a bid for freedom by launching itself towards the window.
Hermione, approached her bulb with the confidence of someone who had read three books on the subject the night before as well as with the help of the best person in herbology. "Alright! Come on, little guy, let's get you settled," she cooed as if talking to a scared puppy, managing to plant it with only a few minor bounces. "There there, that wasn't so bad now. was it?" she said with a satisfied smile, brushing her hands off and then turned towards Harry.
Harry's bulb had now entangled itself in his hair pretty comfortably, bouncing vigorously and pulling at his scalp. "Ah! It's like a deranged hairbrush on a sugar high!" he exclaimed, reaching futilely to catch the elusive plant. Each bounce yanked his head in a different direction, making him look like he was performing some wild dance.
Ron was now on the ground, his bulb having wrapped itself around his legs and bouncing him like a puppet on strings. "Professor! It's turned me into a marionette!" he shouted, his voice a mix of panic and irritation. "Help! HELP ME! Someone! Anybody! Professor Sprout!" Ron yelled, his voice a mix of desperation and irritation." He flailed his arms wildly, looking like a malfunctioning toy as the bulb continued its relentless assault, lifting him off the ground and dropping him with each bounce. Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud looking at everything.
When Hermione stepped towards him, trying very hard to stop the laugh that was bubbling in her even though she was extremely worried. Harry now trying to pry the bulb out of his hair with both hands, saw her approaching and added, "Maybe it's trying to style my hair! I didn't ask for the bouncing-bulb look though!"
The greenhouse erupted in laughter while Hermione giggled. As Professor Sprout hurried over, her own laughter barely contained. "Hold still, boys, hold still!" she called out, waving her wand to untangle Harry's bulb from his hair and coaxing Ron's bulb to release its grip on his legs.
Harry collapsed onto a bench, panting and running his hands through his disheveled hair. "Next time, I'm definitely wearing a helmet," he joked. But now, Hermione looked concerned. Neville rushed over to help Hermione tend to Harry and Ron. Hermione knelt beside Harry, her touch gentle as she tried to untangle the last few remaining strands of the bulb from his hair. "Are you alright, Harry?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
Neville, tending to Ron nearby, glanced over and grinned. "Looks like the plants aren't the only things blossoming in here," he teased. Ron, still nursing a few bruises from his encounter, groaned. "Can we focus on getting me untangled before you start playing matchmaker, Neville?"
The students began to gather their things and head out of the greenhouse. Hermione lingered behind with Harry, her attention focused on the bruise forming on his forehead.
"Hold still," she instructed softly, applying a soothing balm to the bruise with gentle fingers.
Harry winced at the cool touch but couldn't resist a grin. "You know, Hermione, I heard that kissing it might make it feel much better."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. "Is that so?" she asked, her tone light.
Neville and Ron, catching the exchange, exchanged knowing looks. "We'll leave you two to it, then," Neville said with a grin, nudging Ron as they headed for the door.
"Yeah, see you later mates," Ron added, a smirk on his face as they left the greenhouse.
Hermione shook her head, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush. "They're impossible," she muttered, but her eyes were warm as she looked at Harry.
"Maybe," Harry replied, his intense gaze fixed on her. "But they're not wrong."
Hermione's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing softly against the bruise on his forehead. The kiss was brief, tender, and yet it sent a thrill through Harry's entire being.
Before Hermione could pull away, Harry stood, his arms encircling her waist and pulling her close. His lips found hers in a heartbeat, and he kissed her deeply, passionately, pouring all the unspoken emotions and desire into the kiss. Hermione melted against him, her hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the messy locks.
The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them wrapped in each other's embrace. The kiss was everything Harry had imagined and more, a perfect blend of tenderness and fire. He could feel Hermione's heartbeat matching his own, a rapid, exhilarating rhythm that made him feel alive in a way he never had before.
Just as they parted, catching their breath, a soft giggle broke the silence. Harry and Hermione turned to see Professor Sprout standing at the door, a knowing smile on her face.
"Carry on, you two," she said with a wink before disappearing down the corridor.
Harry laughed, a sound full of joy and disbelief. "Well, that was...unexpected," he said, looking back at Hermione with a grin.
Hermione laughed too, her eyes sparkling. "I suppose we'll have to be more careful next time," she said, though there was no regret in her voice.
"Or not," Harry replied, pulling her close again. "I think I like living dangerously."
Hermione's laughter was the sweetest sound he had ever heard as they kissed once more, the greenhouse filled with the warmth of their newfound love.
That's it for today guys. I know the update was very late. But, hereafter I will update this story once a week, and my other story ''ELITE'S OBSESSION" once a week. So, 1 chapter from each story per week!
Adios Everyone!! Don't FORGET to VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE!