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The sky was still dim. The sun, like a rabbit, had hidden in the mountains, and it was time for it to come out.
Elliot stood up from the ground and dusted off his coat. He looked around. He didn't recognize the place. It seemed like a plain where the trees had been uprooted. Small and large bushes were scattered around. There was no sign of a house.
Elliot cautiously moved forward, holding his wand in his right hand. His left hand still hurt badly.
That heavy duel with Spencer had weakened him. He knew well that he couldn't defeat them alone. All he could do was buy some time. He hoped Arya had found Michael by now.
A faint smile formed on his lips as he remembered the face of his teenage daughter. Today would be the last time he'd see her.
A rough and heavy female voice was heard:
"I told you to call Greta…"
The young man replied in a shrill voice:
"I sent the signal. I'm waiting for her to come."
Spencer placed her hands on her temples. In the dark, only her bright blue eyes were visible:
"So why isn't she coming? They'll come after us—I know it. I'm getting weaker…"
The boy moved closer to comfort her, but Spencer pushed him away. She paced around, waiting. Next to her was a chest to which the young man clung like a guard dog.
Spencer said anxiously:
"Is the creature still alive?"
The young man nodded.
Spencer fixed her gaze on a pile of ashes. She looked at the boy and said:
"You know, I never went into the ashes to look for them. Maybe they didn't burn completely…"
At that moment, a tear rolled down her cheek.
Those words struck Elliot. Where were they? Was this the same village Spencer had burned down for revenge years ago? He looked around. It certainly was. The daylight was gradually breaking. Enough waiting…
He stepped forward. Spencer turned at the sound of his footsteps and pointed her wand at him:
"Oh… Why are you putting yourself at risk? It's all over. I'm this close to seeing my father again."
Elliot gave a faint smile:
"That is… if you can even use it."
"I'll find someone who knows how—unfortunately, I'll have to kill you first."
She stepped closer.
"I didn't want to do this to Arya. You know, she's my favorite student. But she'll understand a daughter's love for her father… right?"
Their wands clashed. Sparks flew again, lighting up the sky. Elliot felt the world spinning. His left hand's wound deepened by the second.
Suddenly, a voice came to his aid:
"Elliot!"
Seeing Michael's face had never brought him so much joy. Michael and two Ministry agents stood behind him.
The young boy ran toward them, shouting:
"Greta, please…!"
And engaged in battle with Michael. At that moment, Elliot saw something he couldn't believe. As the first light of dawn shone, a massive creature appeared in the sky. It had triangular, violet wings, and its white teeth looked slightly blood-stained—as if it had just returned from a hunt. The dragon landed gracefully.
Spencer smiled at it:
"I knew you'd come. Kill them all, Greta."
Everyone was stunned by the dragon's movements. An Albanian Firestorm. This type of dragon hadn't been seen in years. It stepped forward, not seeming very old. Its scales hadn't dulled yet, showing it was at most fifteen years old. Its body bore scars, revealing its owners hadn't treated it well. Purple bruises still showed marks of chains.
The dragon hesitated as if unsure. But as the two Ministry agents charged toward it, it grew angry and unleashed a fiery torrent from its massive jaws.
The men ran, but there was no shelter—no trees, no houses—and wand strikes seemed ineffective. Meanwhile, Michael knocked out the boy with one blow and chased after the dragon, trying to divert it. But the dragon kept burning everything in its path.
Spencer laughed:
"Well, I guess that's the end of it, isn't it? Say your final words. I'll make it painless."
Elliot looked at her questioningly:
"So you used it to burn this place down? I knew you couldn't do it alone. A dragon… How did you make it obey you?"
Spencer smiled:
"I admire your thirst for knowledge, even in your final moments. But I just trained it… That's all."
"Trained? This dragon was tortured. How could you treat a creature like this?"
"Oh, I forgot we had a magizoologist here. Sorry, but it was the best I could do."
She pressed harder on her wand. Elliot held his wand tightly and looked around. The battle seemed over. The Ministry agents lay lifeless like ash at the edge of the field. But Michael was nowhere in sight. The dragon approached.
Spencer said:
"Well, I think that's it," and severed the connection.
"Finish him off, Greta…"
The dragon limped forward. It looked tired and unwilling. Elliot didn't take a defensive stance. He locked eyes with the dragon and tried to speak in its language with everything he remembered:
"Hey. I know you've suffered. I know what she did to you. I'm not your enemy. None of us are. I know your family. They're in Albania. We can take you back to them. Don't trust her… She's using you…"
The dragon hesitated. Its large green eyes met his. Then it glanced at Spencer. It didn't like Spencer, but betrayal wasn't in its nature. Still, it missed its family.
Spencer looked at it and shouted:
"What are you waiting for? Kill him!"
But the dragon stepped back. It couldn't choose. So it flapped its wings and flew into the sky. Spencer stared at it open-mouthed as it faded into a violet speck above.
She turned to Elliot:
"Alright, enough—Expelliarmus."
Before Elliot could react, his wand flew from his hand. His left hand hurt too much. He collapsed to the ground.
Spencer approached. When she stood over him, she looked into Elliot's tired gray eyes.
Elliot whispered, clutching his injured hand:
"Tell Arya… I love her very much…"
***
Elsewhere, a clock ticked slowly. The sun had just risen, lighting the hospital wing. Still, no news of her father had arrived, and the thought only worried her more. Arya looked at the bed across from her.
Albus lay there, wrapped in white bandages, traces of blood still visible on his frail body.
Madam Abbott had said recovery was likely. But Arya was still scared. The last time she feared losing someone was years ago—because of her sister. Now, she was on the verge of losing two people she loved deeply. At that moment, in the hospital wing, she felt closer to Albus than ever and realized how much he meant to her. She wished he'd wake up so she could hug him and apologize for every silly argument. But it was already too late.
Scorpius sat in a chair beside Albus's bed, silently watching him. He hadn't slept since the night before and was still waiting for Albus to open his eyes.
Arya said:
"Scorp, don't you want to get some sleep? I'll stay here. Plus, Mrs. Potter is here."
Scorpius shook his head.
Ginny had arrived quickly and spent the early hours crying. Now she was better, speaking with Madam Abbott. On her advice, they hadn't told Lily or James yet—waiting until morning.
Arya looked at the clock again. She couldn't wait any longer. She approached Professor McGonagall, who had just entered the hospital wing:
"Professor, it's been hours, and there's still no word from my father. Don't you think it's time to send backup?"
McGonagall looked at the young girl's face. Only God knew what she had endured.
She said softly:
"This is a top-secret matter. We can't risk sending more agents. If word gets out…"
Arya protested:
"But Professor, we don't even know where they're being taken! Are you saying secrecy is more important than my father's life and the lives of three others?"
McGonagall's features tightened. In that moment, she looked older and more worn than ever:
"If they don't return in thirty minutes, we'll send someone."
She moved toward Ginny and started talking to her. Arya looked at the clock again, then at Albus. His breathing had become steady, and his chest rose and fell calmly. She felt slightly relieved—but couldn't wait anymore. Her father had looked weaker than ever when she last saw him. His left hand was tightly clenched, and black veins crept up his arm. He had definitely been struck by a dark curse.
She made her decision. She told Scorpius softly:
"I'm going back to the dorm—I don't feel well."
Scorpius nodded. He hadn't said a word all night. Arya closed the hospital wing door, glanced around, and then ran full speed toward the Forbidden Forest.
***
Spencer approached Elliot. When she reached him, she looked into his tired gray eyes.
Elliot whispered, clutching his injured hand:
"Tell Arya… I love her very much…"
Spencer pointed her wand at him. She didn't know why, but she hesitated—perhaps remembering her father.
Then a voice snapped her out of it. It was Michael, shouting:
"If you hurt him, that creature dies with him!"
Spencer turned. Michael stood a little farther away, wand aimed at the open chest.
"Step away—or I'll kill you."
"I'm sorry, but I won't."
Their wands clashed. Elliot looked at them. Despite everything today, Spencer still seemed powerful. Michael's face was covered in soot, a deep frown etched on his face.
Elliot lunged toward his wand, lying a meter away.
He rose with all his strength and turned toward them. What he saw was unbearable—Michael lay lifeless on the ground, his coat scorched, body burned. Spencer had ended it with a single blow. A tear rolled down Elliot's cheek. He looked at Spencer.
Spencer rushed to the chest and screamed:
"Nooo!"
She opened and closed the chest again, unable to believe what she saw. Michael had already destroyed the creature—nothing remained but ashes and a few golden scales.
Stunned, Spencer didn't even realize she had touched the box.
Her gloves, torn from the frantic motion, had failed to protect her, and the dark curse was already creeping into her skin. Tears welled up in her eyes. Once again, she had lost her father.
Elliot approached. The black curse climbed up Spencer's arm like a thick root. He shouted:
"Expelliarmus!"
Spencer's wand flew from her hand. Elliot moved closer. His left hand still hurt, but he had managed to slow the curse with white cactus serum. He pulled out a small bottle and whispered:
"Let me treat it. It'll spread fast otherwise."
Spencer looked at him, grief in her eyes but still burning with rage:
"I know. I created this curse…"
She took a step back, cleared her throat, and said:
"But I won't let you take me to Azkaban. I won't let my family name be tainted more than it already is. Besides, I've lost my family. I'd rather die…"
Elliot looked at her again. She was too young and too beautiful to die:
"Don't be crazy. Azkaban's not that bad… There's always room for redemption."
Spencer gave a bitter smile:
"I'm not sorry. I would've done worse to bring my parents back… And this wound—there's no cure now. It's too late…"
The wound kept spreading until it reached her heart.
Elliot stepped closer:
"Is there anything you want me to tell anyone for you?"
"Tell Arya I'm sorry…"
And then she collapsed like a lifeless bird.
He was exhausted. He looked around to make sure no one else was there. The young boy had disappeared, most likely having fled the scene.
Elliot sat on the ground. He raised his wand to signal the Ministry, but the pain and exhaustion overcame him, and he collapsed, unconscious. He didn't even see Arya sprinting toward him, her voice breaking the silence with a scream.