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Game of Thrones White Dragon Rising
Game of Thrones The Sun Dragon Descends
After dinner, Charlie said goodbye to Harry and Ron and headed straight back to the dormitory without wasting a second.
He took a moment to catch his breath, then sat at his desk, picked up his quill, and slowly closed his eyes.
Every word Professor Flitwick had said that afternoon replayed in his head—every thought he'd had while waving his wand, every detail of the lesson.
It took him about three minutes before he opened his eyes again.
He'd realized something important today: when you practice the Impediment Jinx—or any real dueling spell—the first thing you have to master is overcoming fear.
In actual combat, sure, the Leg-Locker Curse, the Dancing Feet Spell, or even the Fire-Making Charm could all be useful. But none of them were born for dueling.
The Impediment Jinx was the first true dueling spell Charlie had learned. Even though it leaned defensive, he now understood how it was completely different from everyday utility charms.
Utility charms are driven by everyday needs—practical, everyday situations.
Dueling spells are driven by crisis. Pure survival instinct.
People freeze up when danger hits. Just like Flitwick said: when that ball came flying at you, most beginners' first reaction wasn't to cast—they wanted to dodge.
If you want to learn dueling magic properly, you have to get past that fear. You have to stop looking for an escape route and trust the spell to handle the threat.
Maybe that's why Gryffindors crank out so many duelists. They're either fearless… or just reckless enough to charge straight at a windmill-sized monster.
Charlie wrote it all down, thinking as he went.
A little while later he added another line:
Buff: Courage in the Face of Danger
Yeah. That might be the hidden bonus you need when learning dueling spells.
He leaned back, rubbed his eyes, and kept writing.
I didn't feel scared when the ball flew at my face because I knew it couldn't really hurt me. But what if it had been a blade instead of a soft ball? Would I still have been able to cast?
He kept going, organizing every thought. Twenty minutes later he set the quill back in the ink bottle.
That was enough for tonight. Tomorrow he'd ask Professor Flitwick if there was a way to do some real "courage training"—or, more accurately, desensitization drills.
He stood up, washed his face in the bathroom, ate half a Dream Chocolate, and borrowed Hector's alarm clock. He set it for two in the morning.
Then, under the gentle pull of the Dream Chocolate, he slipped quickly and quietly into sleep.
The afternoon's intense practice had worn him out.
The second the alarm went off he jolted awake. Alice jumped up at the exact same moment, ears straight out.
Charlie glared at the clock, still half-asleep and grumpy, and kicked it over with one foot.
It rang even louder.
He snatched it up, shut it off, then dragged himself to the bathroom to splash water on his face. Wand and Material Vial in hand, he headed down to the common room.
A faint haze of dream sand still floated in the air. Christmas break meant most kids had gone home to be with family; only a handful were still at school.
He hadn't expected the dream sand to be this thick. Guess everyone's sleeping pretty well, he thought.
He left the common room and made his way downstairs.
The best spot for watching the blood moon tonight would have been the Astronomy Tower, but Charlie didn't dare go there. Professor Sinistra was almost guaranteed to be up there observing it herself.
He kept moving. Filch seemed to be taking the holidays off too—Charlie hadn't seen him on patrol the last few nights—so he moved quickly, reached the ground floor, and stepped out of the castle.
Outside, the sky was clear. A few thin clouds drifted past, but nothing that would ruin the view.
Perfect weather.
Snow still covered everything in thick drifts. Charlie pulled his robes tight around himself and walked silently across the grounds.
The heavy folds of the wizarding robe wrapped around him completely. It looked a little odd—like he belonged to some mysterious secret order—but it kept the wind out.
Robes used to be practical outdoor gear: windbreakers, raincoats, even makeshift blankets or mattresses. With a little Transfiguration they could do almost anything. These days they were mostly just a symbol of wizard identity. Muggles had moved on to coats.
The wind off the Black Lake cut straight through him. Charlie stopped at the water's edge and looked up.
The moon hung high in the southeast. Down here by the lake there were no castle walls, no barred windows or towers blocking the view.
No telescope, but he didn't need one. His main goal was collecting the pure essence.
The blood moon hadn't started yet. Right now the moon still poured out its usual silver light.
Charlie stood motionless at the lakeside, silent, staring upward like a statue—lonely, vast, but completely unafraid.
I'm probably going to catch a cold. Damn it—I feel like a moon-obsessed lunatic.
Time passed. Then a dark spot appeared on the edge of the bright moon.
It had begun.
A wolf's howl rose from the Forbidden Forest. More howls answered, one after another. A huge flock of birds exploded into the sky, flapping wildly.
The blood moon really did affect the creatures.
Ten more minutes passed. The dark spot had grown into a wide black patch. The moon's rim was now tinged with a rusty red.
Charlie raised his hand and tried to draw the moon's power.
A moment later he looked at the silver droplet of moonlight essence on his fingertip and flicked it into the lake.
Still ordinary moonlight.
The real change hadn't started yet.
He wasn't in a hurry. He kept waiting, occasionally thinking about how he'd organize the rest of his holiday homework. Strangely, thinking about assignments actually made the freezing lakeside wind feel a little warmer and the wait less miserable.
When he focused on the sky again, more than half the moon was already wrapped in red shadow.
He narrowed his eyes, concentrating—
Splash!
A sudden wave broke the surface. Charlie whipped his head toward the sound.
Dozens of dark shapes had appeared on the Black Lake, forming a perfect circle around him.
Those were—
Merpeople.