A Campione had challenged him.
Harry supposed he could say he had expected it, but that would be a lie. When word reached him that the Sixth Campione, Salvatore Doni, had gone to the Iceland Association looking for him, Harry knew his brief anonymity was over.
In truth, it had lasted far longer than he thought possible. A Campione hiding in plain sight? That was absurd. The very concept defied the inherent nature of a godslayer, a walking, breathing font of power that bled magic into the world simply by existing.
For a being with his power, he could say that it was the fear he inspired as a campione that made people keep their mouths shut as long as they did. Still, he was lucky it was Doni.
From what he remembered from the anime, he was not really someone who did things quietly.
Reckless, flamboyant Doni, who wanted nothing more than a good fight, and who, thankfully, had been reasonable enough to agree to wait a week. If it had been one of his less rational "siblings," things could have gone much worse.
Then again, being blockheaded was a trait they all shared. Harry had seen he others from the anime and knew Godou, the youngest of the Campiones, and the boy was as stubborn as a mountain goat, refusing to kill a god even when it was the logical and most likely easiest solution to the problem.
For all their differences, there were a lot of traits they all shared, and it made it nearly impossible for them to work together, in Harry's opinion.
That's why most campiones had a silent rule of not getting involved with one another. Because when it came to two campiones, it was either agreeing to stay out of each other's way or ending up killing each other.
Harry sighed. With Dumbledore and Grindelwald circling around the Hallows and now a duel with Doni looming over his head, he should have been drowning in annoyance.
Instead, he couldn't deny the flicker of excitement in his chest. A fight against another Campione, what kind of power would that unleash? The Dumbledore and Grindelwald matter, not even something he considered for a moment, they were like flies that he had decided to remove, but they didn't keep him up at night or anything like that.
But a duel with Doni… that was going to be a different matter entirely. A fight between them would no doubt be an absolute raw, primal confrontation, like a meeting of two forces of nature, well, at the ned that was what they were, forces of nature.
The thought of unleashing his Authorities without care for collateral damage, of finally testing his true strength against an equal that was not a heretic god, sent a rush of pure adrenaline through him.
But that was for later. Right now, something else had his attention.
A soft moan pulled him back as Daphne pressed closer, his arms wrapped tight around her waist in the cramped broom closet she had dragged him into.
She tasted faintly of cherries as he deepened the kiss, her fingers curling into his robes, pulling him closer as her soft body moved against him.
For all her cool composure in public, Daphne Greengrass was surprisingly bold when it was just the two of them. It was as if a switch had been flipped, and the icy, collected facade she wore for the world melted away to reveal a fiery, passionate girl.
He loved both sides of her, the cool, reserved Slytherin princess and the playful girl who wasn't afraid to sneak him into a broom closet.
She broke the kiss, flushed, trying for composure but failing adorably.
"Well… that was…" she coughed, eyes darting away. "I should… probably get going."
Harry caught her wrist before she could escape, tugging her back into his chest. He grinned, a genuine, joyful expression that made her blush deepen. "It was nice," he murmured, resting his chin atop her head. "Or did you want to go back to being friends?" he said in a mocking voice, as if saying it may not work out like this.
She stilled, face buried against him, and muttered something too low for him to catch. "Idiot," she finally whispered, but without any malice, just a hint of affection that made his heart swell.
They stood like that for a moment before she pulled away and straightened her skirt, brushing imaginary dust from her robes until her usual icy mask slipped back into place.
"We're late for class," she said primly.
Harry grinned. She must have noticed because she swatted his arm with a glare that didn't reach her slightly pink cheeks. "Let's go, Potter. Before I get a detention for being late."
By the time they reached Defense Against the Dark Arts, Daphne had tucked herself neatly against his side, her arm looped through his as if daring anyone to comment.
The whispers followed them into the classroom, jaws dropping when Daphne leaned up and kissed him on the cheek before slipping away to sit with Tracey. The kiss was a subtle but firm declaration, a way for her to mark her territory and for everyone else to know that he was hers, and she was not to be messed with.
Slytherin girls swarmed her immediately, buzzing with gossip, their hungry, curious eyes flicking between her and Harry, no doubt wanting to know how she had managed to do what some had secretly only dreamed of.
Harry slid into his usual seat beside Hermione and Ron. Hermione shot him a look, half judgment, half curiosity. Harry raised an eyebrow, then tilted his head toward Ron. Hermione blushed crimson and quickly looked away, muttering under her breath.
The door opened.
Harry blinked. 'Tonks?' he was surprised.
"Good morning," she said cheerfully, striding to the front. "For those who don't know me, I'm Tonks. Just Tonks. Call me anything else and I'll hex you." Her eyes flickered to Harry briefly, a smirk tugging at her lips before she looked away.
She had a mischievous glint in her eyes, with her usual cheerful energy that was completely at odds with the somber atmosphere of the school. He could tell she was having a blast, surprising him and others.
"Professor McGonagall asked me to cover Defense because your professors are… indisposed. So while I'm here, I'll teach you how to actually defend yourselves."
A derisive snort broke the air. Draco Malfoy sneered from his seat.
"Hogwarts really has fallen if it's hiring blood traitors now. What are we supposed to learn from you?"
Nott snickered, adding, "Yes, what a joke." The Slytherins had been humbled since the death of their parents, but it seemed that old habits died hard. The need to puff themselves up, to look down on others, to feel better about themselves, was a deeply ingrained trait that was hard to shake off.
Harry leaned back in his chair, watching. This would be good. Tonks was not someone to take things lying down after all.
Before Nott could finish his next insult, a spell hit him square in the face. He slumped forward onto his desk with a thud.
Several Slytherins jumped as Tonks flicked her wand again, dropping another into unconsciousness. The spells were fast, silent, and precise, a testament to her training as an Auror. She hadn't even hesitated, she had simply seen the insult and acted, her face completely calm as she did so.
"Lesson one," she said lightly, spinning her wand. "If you're going to antagonize an opponent, keep your eyes on them."
"You—you can't attack a student! My father—" Draco's voice broke. He froze, realization dawning that his father was dead. His bluster shriveled, leaving him pale and silent. The power he had always relied on was gone, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.
Tonks raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? I said the lesson had started. Your classmate just failed to dodge the demonstration spell. An honest mistake." She smiled sweetly.
The room fell quiet. No one else dared speak out of turn. Even Harry chuckled under his breath. Tonks definitely wasn't going to be your average professor.
The rest of the lesson passed without incident, Tonks alternating between sharp demonstrations and surprisingly solid theory, who knew she would be decent when it came to teaching.
When the others filed out, Harry lingered behind.
"You didn't tell me you were teaching," he said as she approached.
She wrapped her arms around his neck with a grin. "Well, McGonagall asked for a favor. I couldn't just say no. She told me she was desperate and had practically begged me, so I figured, Why not?"
She brushed her lips against his. "Besides, it'll only be for a while. A bit of fun, don't you think?"
She leaned close to whisper in his ear, voice low and teasing.
"Now that I'm your teacher, Mr. Potter, I expect you to do well in class. I'll make sure to reward you properly."
A shiver ran down his spine at her tone. He pulled her into a deeper kiss, only to break apart at the sound of approaching footsteps. She winked at him, and he slipped out the door before anyone saw.
On his way to his next class, a familiar snowy owl swooped down and landed on his arm.
"Hedwig," Harry smiled, stroking her feathers as he untied the letter. "I'll get you bacon later, promise."
The letter was from Sirius. Harry's eyes narrowed as he read.
Narcissa Malfoy had reached out, requesting a meeting with Lord Black.
Sirius had refused to interfere—it was Harry's title now, his responsibility, Sirius had decided. But Sirius's tone in the letter was wary, edged with old grudges. He clearly didn't trust his cousin's motives.
The fact that she was reaching out at all, after years of feuding, spoke volumes about what she wanted to discuss, whatever it was, it had to be very important for the proud woman to ask Sirius of all people.
Did it have something to do with wanting the position? He had no doubt that she had all but thought Draco would inherit the title before Sirius broke out of prison, and now she wanted to talk. Maybe she wanted to offer a deal for the position to go to Draco or something.
After all, the Blacks were a proud, ancient family, and their wealth and influence were nothing to scoff at. The title of Lord Black was a position of immense power in the wizarding world, and having it would be well, it would be nothing short of a game changer.
Harry folded the letter, his mind already working. Well, how would things go. He was already going to go, no question. He had been looking for someone to help him with a certain thing, but didn't know who. Now, one person had just delivered themselves well, who was he not to take advantage of the situation.
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