A Strange Old World Ch.6 (Patreon)

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Chapter 6– The Duel

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"Start!" The ref announced and they both burst into action.

Fleur instantly cast her version of Protego Maxima as soon as the duel started, shielding a barrage of stunners, cutting and disarming charms.

She knew that attacking the boy to fight for the initiative was a stupid move. Not only were his spells ridiculously strong and fast, he also cast them with a speed and accuracy she'd only ever seen in veteran Aurors.

For all her skill and experience, Fleur knew she would simply never be able to keeping up with his pace toe-to-toe. And attempting to do that would only risk her making a mistake and getting defeated by something as simple as a stunning spell.

So for now, she was content to be on the defensive. Normally this strategy would be stupid as well, considering how powerful his spells were as they had easily broken through his previous opponent's shields. But Fleur's version of Protego Maxima let her continuously supply her spell with her magic, maintaining it's solidity to weather the storm.

Another reason she hadn't started with an attack was due to how nimble and slippery the boy had been in his previous fights. He almost always dodged the enemy spells with perfection, having superhuman instincts. To successfully hit him, Fleur would either have to limit his movements...or destroy the entire area around him entirely.

For Fleur, Dueling was simple, because she understood the strategies. It was sort of like chess; You have to choose what move you are going to play for specific scenarios.

And to make it easier for herself, she divided spells into different sections. She named spells like Stupefy and Expelliarmus as bullet spells; these spells could only be used like those muggle-guns that simply shoot projectiles at each other and does nothing else. Then there were spells like Bombarda that she called splash spells, which affect a much larger area and could damage the surrounding.

Then came the Alteration spells that changed or manipulated their surroundings; like transfiguration and conjuration. These were also her personal favourite.

Her basic strategy was easy; dodge or shield bullets, apparate away from splash spells, and neutralize altering spells. Mistakes were expected of course; you can't always know if those bullet spells were too fast to dodge and you have to shield instead...but she was experienced enough to avoid most of these mistakes.

Dodging Potter's spells would've been incredibly risky, due to how fast they zoomed in, so she simply stuck to her shield, and the moment her opponent slowed down his shower of bullet spells, she started on her own attack.

Fleur loved fire, having a natural affinity for it. And thus most of her spells were motivated by it.

So when she fired off her own chain of spells, most of them involved a fiery element.

Her wand conjured a bunch of fiery arrows in an instant, each launching at a specific angle to tie up her opponent's movements.

She didn't take time to see how the boy dealt with them, already summoning some nearby pebbles, before enlargening them with engorio and igniting them with fire. The flaming pebbles soon joined her attack, and she took just a moment to glance at her opponent.

The boy hadn't even batted an eye as he nimbly slipped away from her arrows, while simultaneously forming a small basic Protego shield to block the flaming stones.

For some other Dueller, that would've been the end of it. While a necessary spell in any Wizard's repertoire, Protego didn't provide the amount of versatility and power needed to block multiple projectiles from different angles like hers.

But Harry Potter was different. Not only was his shield powerful enough to block her attacks, but he was somehow manipulating the shield's natural oval shape according to his wishes. Out of nowhere, the oval shield suddenly sprouted tiny little bluish tendrils that extended to swat away her pebbles as if they were some weak nuisance.

The sight was so bizarre and bewildering that for a second she just stopped her rapid succession of attacks and stared at the spectacle. The shield was rotating on it's own, and it's 5 long tentacles were batting away anything they came close to.

Never in her life had Fleur Delacour seen such bullshit.

To manipulate the shield charm to this extent, a wizard will need to have incredible knowledge of the spell, to the point where they find it comfortable to mess with the original spell structure and completely change it's basic properties.

She knew this because of her own success at spell modification. She had needed to study Protego Maxima for over a year, note down and understand the reasons behind it's wand movements and incantations, and then and only then, had she been ready to change the spell slightly.

After over 37 trials and errors, she'd successfully managed to add the infinite rune into the spell, which enabled her to keep a steady stream of magic going inside her shield. In effect, her shield shall stay stable for as long as she wanted, unless her magical reserves were exhausted or the force of the attack proves way too much for her magic.

To see such a young boy of 13 or 14 do the same, and to such a massive extent was... unbelievable. To do what he did, he'll need to have a master level knowledge in runes, Charms, Arithmancy, and spell creation.

Understandably, Fleur was baffled.

And as she saw the boy deal with her attacks as if a child's play, all of her self-given restrictions vanished. Her opponent deserved the best from her. And she was now completely willing to deliver.

She closed her eyes for just a moment, concentrating on her instinctual connection to fire. Then, with a swish of her wand a fiery tornado was conjured beside her the next moment.

With another flick, the wild tornado of fire came into heel and transformed into multiple small baby dragons, each taking flight towards her opponent and tracing beautiful fiery arcs along their path. It was stunning and breathtaking sight, and no doubt horrifying for her opponent, watching multiple mini fire dragons furiously bounding on a single target. They were 5 in total, and each burnt with powerful intensity.

It was a shame that, for all her skills with fire, conjuring a fully formed flame dragon was outside of her capabilities. Which was why she conjured lots of fire and used draconifers spell to transfigure them into the said beasts.

At this point in the fight, Fleur's heart sang to admit she was having fun. And she truly did want to simply let go of her doubts and responsibilities, and enjoy doing what she loved. But the fear of defeat, and it's consequences, were too much for her to indulge.

Harry had just finished dealing with her last conjurations when the dragons finally reached him.

The boy seemed unfazed though, as he swished forth his wand to meet the dragons. A massive bout of magic suddenly burst forth from his wand, and 3 out of 5 dragons were instantly dispersed in thin air. The other two were dissipated by a sphere of water that quenched their intensity, making them sputter and wink out of existence.

For the second time in their duel, Fleur was absolutely shocked by his move.

The spell he used wasn't all that advanced; just a simple vanishment charm. But the power and precision needed to vanish more than half of her dragons has to be...suffice to say, a lot.

And for the first time in a long long while, Fleur feared she might not be winning.

That was all but confirmed when the teen turned to her with a frown, and took over the attacking initiative once again.

This time, the boy seemed to have upped his own game.

Not in a thousand years would Fleur have thought that the reason Harry had been using basic spells was just because he was holding back. She'd simply assumed he put all of his hard work in perfecting the basics.

But then the Potter boy launched a fearsome spell-chain, and Fleur no longer had any room to wonder.

She darted away from the combination of trio; Stunning, Disarming, and cutting spell. Deflecting one of them by launching a conjured stone.

But she had to quickly disapparate entirely when she sensed the building of explosive power that her experience told meant one thing; Bombarda Maxima or one of its variants.

She appeared at another side with a crack, and the ground she'd just vacated was torn asunder the next second.

It was a good thing that the audience were seating in elevated floors, safely tucked behind protective wards...or else she had no doubt someone would've died by the massive explosion that ensued as Harry Potter finally unleashed his true power.

And even then, for some reason, she had the strangest feeling this wasn't his all.

Which was just stupid, cause she was willing to bet the boy was already a Lvl 5 dueller, at the level of experienced Aurors. Only one of them could hope to so easily dominate in a duel against Fleur.

He wasn't done yet though. Fleur's Protege Maxima materialised in front of her, blocking a rapid fire of full-body binds, leg-lockers, and Jelly-leg curses. All of them were taught to 1st or 2nd class in Beauxbatons, but Harry's spells curved in mid-air, keeping her extra cautious, while his massive power took out chunks of her magic reserves as her shield worked overtime to stop from outright shattering under the pressure.

The boy slowed down once again, preparing something different, and she let her shield dissipate to hopefully turn the tide around.

She managed to dodge a few of his distraction spells but realised too late that he'd slipped in transfigurations amongst them. The land behind her suddenly turned into two...jaws?

Unfortunately the boy once again started his fast paced assault of bullet spells and she couldn't do anything but to hide behind her shield, while trying to keep the jaws at bay.

She created a whip of fire, letting it strike one of the traps even as she maintained her shield. The other trap however, extended out suddenly to clamped down on her leg.

An involuntary scream leapt out of her throat as sizzling hot pain burst forth from her ankle. Her shield flickered with her distraction, and Harry Potter successfully managed to break through her defense with a simple but powerful reducto.

The last thing she saw was a stray red stunner speeding towards her face.

And then her world was plunged in darkness.

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Jacob Potter was having a very bad day.

He'd been so confident in his victory today, bragging to all of his friends and relatives on how he'll be winning this year's European championship. Now he was feeling like an absolute fool.

What would Dora think of him? Oh she'll be soo disappointed... Or maybe she already expected this, but let him mald in his delusions cause she thought it was funny?

Yes, he could see his cousin doing something like that. Pretend to be excited for his win, but laugh at his stupidity from behind.

Cause it was now clear to him, he was never anywhere close to winning the tournament. Hell, he hadn't even managed to come in top 16!

Out of 256 participants, almost 150 of them were Lvl 3, the same level as him! He may be strong for his level, but there was no way he was competing with someone even higher.

And hadn't that come as a shock, his own sister was higher leveled than him! Hell, she could probably match Cedric toe-to-toe.

He'd once thought Cedric was the most skilled Dueller of this generation...how stupid of him. This tournament had opened his eyes. There were duellers here that even Cedric couldn't hope to win against. Especially that French beauty, Fleur Delacour.

Just thinking of her made Jake's heart beat wildly in his chest, doing cartwheels all over the place. Fleur was the most stunningly beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. Compared to Daphne, Cho, and Angelina, she was like a goddess between mortals.

Just a single glance at her made him flush up in heat, and he had to actively fight the urge to leap down to the Dueling stage right this moment and kneel down to propose her.

Cho...who was Cho? This french goddess was the lady of his dreams.

Unfortunately, there was just one...small...hurdle in this.

And that hurdle was currently crouching down next to the French Goddess, having just defeated her.

Jake had been trying really hard to not think about Harry, but it was a losing cause. His twin seemed to have developed a habit of being in the centre of everything this year.

"Did you know he was that powerful!?" Dorea whispered excitedly from the side, and he couldn't help but grimace.

Harry had absolutely bamboozled him to the core today. Gone was the awkward, stumbling boy from the last 3 years, and in his place stood this...imposter. And this imposter was better than Jake in every single way.

He was stronger, powerful, more skilled, better Dueller, charming, and bloody freaking handsome. He was everything Jake had ever envied in Cedric, and more.

"There's no way that's Harry." He finally declared, unable to stay quiet as his elder sister gushed about him. "I know Harry, he couldn't even duel a troll to save his life."

He felt a stinging slap impacting on the back of his head and he turned to his mother with a scowl. "What!?"

"Don't talk about your brother like that, Jacob James Potter!" Lily said with a stern gaze, and Jake gulped quietly, glancing at his dad for protection.

"Leave me out of this." The man said with a wide grin, his eyes stuck to Harry and Fleur.

"I think Harry's making his move!" His dad whispered excitedly. "That's my son!"

Jacob whipped his head around, and sure enough Harry was helping the beautiful goddess to her feet, a tiny little smirk on his face as he said something to her. And the girl...she was giving him a shy and uncertain smile, though looking pretty nervous when she glanced at the cheering crowd.

'Bloody freakin' bullocks!' Jacob raged in his mind when he saw his twin still clutching the girl's hand. 'Leave her alone you prick! Isn't Aunt Bella enough for you!?'

"Mum, do you know how he is so fast?" Dorea asked from the side. "He moved so fluidly, almost like water."

"Probably used some potion." Jacob muttered with a grimace.

How exactly did his brother get so good really? It had to be potions!

"No, you stupid dum dum." His sister snorted. "We went through a full examination to check for these kind of stuff. I doubt Harry could fool the experts."

Well...that was true. Unless...

Jacob knew his brother's biggest secret. He normally wouldn't even think this, but maybe...just maybe ...Harry was using parseltongue to cheat through the system?

But in that case, he was just making use of his own skills. Jacob wasn't so jealous that he would actually blame him for using his gifts.

But it burnt a bloody hole in his arse to see his brother leaving him so far behind.

"Well, I suppose I can give you an answer." Lily said, smiling proudly as she stared at Harry, who was now approaching the announcement dias alongside the current girl of Jake's dreams.

Jacob tore his eyes away from the duo, not wanting to witness more of this nightmare. Instead, he payed absolute attention to his mother, hoping to hear Harry's secret. Maybe he can improve as well...

"Let's just say that something bad happened with him and our...relatives." Lily grimaced, a flash of anger burning in her eyes that made Jake shiver. "Harry has been living with Bella and doing everything he can to improve. And the results are clear to see."

Ah, so that's the secret! Of course...if Aunt Bella, the greatest duelist of all time, was training him, then no wonder he grew so fast.

Oh if only Jacob could get some one-on-one sessions with the dark-haired beauty... though he doubted he'd improve as much. His attention would just be on something else all the time. On something lower than her face.

'Wait...did mother say Harry was living with Bella?'

That lucky git! Why? Oh why must merlin make him suffer so much? Here Jake was, fapping to a jaded and torn up image of a bikini-clad Cho. Then there was Harry, living all alone with Bella! And now stealing the french beauty away!

Why!? Why can't something this good happen to Jake!?

'Dont be jealous, don't be jealous, Don't be jealous.' He repeated the mantra in his mind, heaving deep breaths in.

He was more mature now. Yes, he was. And jealousy wasn't mature.

...But seriously, why can't he be this lucky!?

Unfortunately, that question will likely not be answered anytime soon. And as Harry was declared winner of the tournament, winning 750 more galleons in his pocket, Jake realised today was just the beginning.

Oh lord, Jake had another 4 years to pass with Harry!

That bastard...he better not steal Cho as well...

Oh who was he kidding...the charming git will probably be banging professor Sinistra by the end of this year.

Lucky dickhead.

'Don't be jealous, Don't be jealous, Don't be jealous...' It was a losing cause though, especially when Harry heaved his trophy up to the clapping of the crowd.

Jacob sighed, rubbing his head tiredly. He needed to go and take a big nap. Maybe the nightmare will end in his sleep.

...Hopefully. He wasn't holding his breath though.

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Harry Potter was tired.

The dueling tournament had went off well into the night, finally finishing around 9 to 9:30. Even his enhanced stamina couldn't hold on without some effects after 4 hours of dueling.

Surprisingly, the tournament hadn't been as lackluster as he'd feared, though the lion's share for that goes to Fleur.

The French flower was just as beautiful as he remembered, if one ignores the depressed and nervous looks that came over randomly upon her face.

He'd wondered if he should investigate or something, but ultimately her problems weren't his. She was still a teenager, and he did not want to know if her new boyfriend gawks at her too much or some bloody bullshit like that.

As much as he liked the proud girl, Fleur had been a pretty entitled brat when they first met in his previous life.

He did introduce himself though, and that'll have to do for now.

All in all, the tournament had been a huge success. He got to experiment with spell power and utilities, and was able to test his new speed and dexterity, along with some of the more advanced spell work.

In his mental compartment, he kept a list that showed him what he must improve next.

Currently, his biggest worry i.e poor physique, was completely resolved. He moved faster than ever now, was much more reactive, and had an incredible sense of danger. Dodging the one-shotters was now as easy as breathing. As long as he doesn't get blindsided, Harry felt he'd be an extremely solid fighter physically.

Magically, he was even better. His senses were sharp and on point, his instincts were as good as they've ever been, his magic was even more powerful than at his peak, his control was pretty fucking good... honestly, if he went all out, with the unforgivables, dark magic and apparition? He felt he was pretty much back to his peak, and felt confident in atleast stalling Bellatrix.

Hell, he'd actually bet on this present self, considering his new physique and magical might.

...Did he feel ready to meet the Dark Lord though?

Well, not in Tommy's peak but in his baby form? Yeah, Harry was ready to bully that little ugly piece of shit. As long as he thwarted Voldemort from returning to his peak, he'd have plenty of time to hunt down the Horcruxes and put him down for good.

The last Horcrux especially...this time he would make no mistakes. He knew what was at stake afterall. He wouldn't let the world be in ruins, and more importantly, he wouldn't let the sacrifice of all his past friends and lovers go to waste. This time...there was no limit.

He wouldn't leave any corner of the world unsearched. He wouldn't disregard any solution for his answer. May it be killing some innocent muggle or torturing some death eater. Though the first solution in his mind was to simply mind rape Dumbledore and Snape. The bastard who knew everything, and his disloyal betraying dog.

He had a feeling he'll know everything as long as those two were in his pocket. Actually, even better would be simply mind fucking Tommy himself.

Unfortunately, he wasn't strong enough to forcefully interrogate either of those behemoths...

But he will be. Soon, with the rituals helping him, he will be as strong as those two bloody maniacs, whose expiration date had long since gone up.

For now, he'll need to focus on what he could actually improve and be the best he could be for his eventual meet up with the baby lord.

Hopefully nothing unexpected happens till then.

Oh, if only he knew.

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Gloucestershire was home to both muggles and magicals, and with it's rich history for their kind, Peter wasn't surprised to know the Selwyn Manor was built here.

What he was surprised though, was by the fact that those inbreded fucks actually built it inside the forest of Deans. He wasn't really scared by the Acromantula colony that resided here, neither was he particularly bothered by the vast number of poisonous and lethal insects that infested the area...

But the giants scared him. The giants that had marked the forest as their colony so long ago... they frightened Pettigrew.

Which was why he specifically asked for a portkey directly inside the Manor's boundry.

A shame he couldn't use the fireplace. Though he didn't dare complain about it.

When Lord Voldemort commands you to not use the fireplace, you better not use the fireplace.

Soon the time was up, and he felt the twist of tea-cup portkey taking him along with it, though he barely managed to land on his feets when the cup dumped him out of space.

"Pettigrew." An old gravely voice rasped out scathingly, and Peter quickly turned to face the voice.

There stood the lord Selwyn, a glare of hatred and a sneer of contempt fixed on his face.

'Aww, the poor lord is still pissed about this.' Peter snickered in his mind.

And Peter understood it really. It must gall the powerful man, having to greet a 'Filthy Half-blood' like Peter as an equal.

But that's what you get, when you have the Dark Lord's confidence. Blood status simply doesn't matter if your position in Lord Voldemort's court is high enough. And being the left-hand of the said lord, Peter's position was high indeed.

"Come!" The man spat. "The Lord is waiting."

In all his life, Peter had only ever entered two manors that belonged to Pure-Blood families; one was of course, the Potter manor, and the other: Malfoy Manor.

Both had been grand in their own way, with things that made them unique, and both had left a strong sense of awe in Peter. Personally, he would still put the Potter manor ahead, simply because he hated worthless display of wealth like the Malfoys loved so much.

So with his prior experience, Peter felt he was ready for Selwyn Manor.

He wasn't.

Completely out of his expectations, the manor they entered looked on the verge of falling. Old decrepit walls were hidden behind plain silver linings that displayed house Selwyn's symbols. Bits of spider-webs and dust was present around the corner, showing the clearly half-assed attempt at cleaning the manor.

"The manor has seen some better days, eh?" Peter asked, doing a poor job of hiding his amusement.

The lord didn't reply, but his feelings were clear in the way he banged open the doors with too much force.

"We're here." The old man snarled out with pressed teeths, visibly controlling himself. "Tidy yourself, unless you want to greet the Lord with your disgusting appearance."

That...was actually a good advice.

"Thank you for your reminder, Lord Selwyn." Peter replied with a cheerful tone, before giving an exaggerated look around at the 'disgusting appearance' of the manor. "I see you're learning from your mistakes. The Dark Lord indeed doesn't like shabbiness, eh?"

And as the Pure-Blooded inbred walked forth with a contemptuous snort, Peter couldn't help but marvel at his own newfound confidence.

The time to live like a cowardly rat was over for him. Now he was Peter Pettigrew, one of the most trusted of Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters.

Selwyn opened the final door to the main hall, and Peter cleared his mind with the meagre skill he possessed in Occlumency.

The door opened faster than he'd expected, and he took a deep breath as his eyes took the scene within.

The hall was dimly lit, with only the blazing furnace providing any light. The long sitting table was already occupied with people. To the rightmost, directly beside the main chair, sat his best mate Sirius. The opposite chair to him was empty, and Peter made his way towards it without looking back at Selwyn.

His eyes took in the other figures present; Lady Selwyn and her daughter sat furthest away from the front. Evan and Felix Rosier sat around the middle, their position uncertain. The Carrow twins, who had begged for forgiveness as soon as the wind of their lord's survival reached them, sat above the Rosier.

And there, at the centre of it all, sat Lord Voldemort, with his chair turned to the furnace and a glass of...milk in his hand?

Peter almost stumbled, catching himself before he was made a fool of.

'No, it's probably some potion.'

Even if for some reason the Lord started craving milk, he wouldn't be drinking it in front of his death eaters.

He couldn't see his Lord's face from behind, but the Lord definitely sensed him.

"Peter... we've been waiting for you." The Lord purred, his voice a little tired.

Pettigrew's heart quickened, wondering if he was in trouble, while his mind scrambled for some response.

"But you're hear now, so we may begin." The Lord continued, not sounding even a little angry. If anything, he sounded distracted. "Come, take a seat."

He did as commanded quietly, sharing a nod with his friend as sweet relief spread through him.

"Sssirius has brought some news for us, I trust?" The Lord's hisses were particularly bored today.

"My lord." Sirius bowed, looking much better than the last time Peter saw him. "I've given the message. The Alliance will work with us, and there shall be no delays in the ritual."

"Good. Excellent." Lord Voldemort replied after a painful minute of silence, though Peter caught something... strange in his voice this time.

Lord Voldemort never showed weakness. Even in his current form, the Dark Lord still maintained a powerful and menacing image. And having been with him the longest, Peter was very aware of that.

Bur for some reason, it almost felt like the Lord was a little...absentminded today. He seemed almost startled by the news. The superiority and menace that his tone always carried was almost completely absent today.

"But if I may, my Lord?" Sirius continued.

"Hmm? Yes, Sirius, go on."

And he forgot to add his hisses as well!?

"I think Grindelwald is being too arrogant, My Lord. His man actually believes you owe him something for this. I say screw the Alliance, we'll collect the Potter brats by ourselves. Britain belongs to you my lord, perhaps it's time to show everyone why."

Again, a long silence ensued, and Peter was completely sure Sirius was about to experience a solid bout of Cruciatus for even daring to say anything against their Lord's plan.

Instead, when the Lord spoke again, he sounded...amused. Amused and unconcerned. "Patience, my dear lieutenant. Everything is according to the plan. Let Grindelwald have his fun. The old man knows who he owes his life to, and he will not forget it."

"Of course, My lord." Sirius bowed again.

"For now, continue as you were. A few more weeks, and our time shall come."

There was a clear dismissal in his tone, and everyone took it as a sign to get up. They all asked for his permission of course, but once again the Lord barely bothered waving his tiny skinny hand in acknowledgement.

As Peter took his leave with the rest of them, he couldn't help but ponder.

There was something wrong with Lord Voldemort today. But after mulling it over a little, Peter found he couldn't bother caring. It's not like the wizard would ever inform him of it.

For now, all he could do was wait and prepare. He had a feeling the world cup final was going to be a big day for him.

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AN:

Once again, thank you for your patronage you awesome godlings! Hope you Liked this chapter.

See ya!