Author's Note:
As some of you might know, I had exams last week, which is why I didn't write anything until yesterday for TASB fic. Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I've got some good news! I finally bought a new laptop, and it should arrive by the end of the week if nothing goes wrong. Hopefully, that'll help me write better than the brick I'm currently using.
Also, more good news: the Third Task has finally started! We've reached Chapter 44, so yeah… it's happening soon. Chapter 44 was the start of the third task and my longest chapter up to date, 7k+ words, as well as the first real lemon.
Celestial Ascendancy
Chapter 39:The Serpent Whisper.
Hogwarts.
Elias Black.
"Good morning to you, Miss Skeeter," I smiled at the bound woman. Her wrists were tightly secured with the rope Arcturus had told Sirius to give me before we left Grimmauld Place. A nasty little thing, honestly. It's not my style, but I couldn't deny its effectiveness.
It was a family heirloom, unsurprisingly. I shouldn't have been shocked, really. After all, the Blacks were never known for their mercy. This rope didn't just restrain. It drained magic, slowly and painfully. The Auror's Office used Something similar, but this one took it further. According to Arcturus, it hurt like a bitch. I probably shouldn't have joked about him using it in the bedroom, but how he said it practically begged for it.
The old git glared at me hard enough to make me genuinely uncomfortable before snorting and retreating back into his portrait. I had the sinking suspicion he might try Something in revenge, even from beyond the grave. Sirius had laughed his ass off at the exchange. Still, later, in a rare moment of seriousness, he warned me to be careful around his great-grandfather. The haunted look in his eyes didn't help my nerves.
Rita Skeeter groaned, her body twitching from the unsubtle jolt running through her. It wasn't lethal, but it made the message clear. She wasn't in control anymore. I needed her to understand that I was someone who got what he wanted, not the other way around.
"You absolute bastard," she spat, her hair wild and her glasses barely hanging on. "You'll regret this. I swear to Merlin, I'll ruin you. Kidnapping, illegal use of dark artifacts, assault…"
"Blah, blah, blah," I cut in, crouching to her level. "You're not stupid, Rita. Even if a few Purebloods would jump at the chance, the rest of the Ministry wouldn't believe you. I'm just a student. A strong one, sure, but who would actually believe all this?"
Her glare could've melted glass. "I have connections."
"And I have all the cards right now," I said evenly. "So let's not pretend you're the one holding power here. If you really think I'm some dark wizard in training, you should be a little more careful with your words. Imagine saying Something like that to Voldemort."
"Don't say his name!" she shrieked, then bared her teeth again. "Torturing a journalist won't end well for you, no matter how clever you think you are. People will be looking for me. I'm known across the British Isles. I will be found."
"Good thing that's not my intention. For now, at least," I said as I stood. "I'm giving you another option before I have to make any hard decisions. Like I said, don't push me, woman."
That made her blink. Just once. But it was enough. She was smart enough to understand what I meant, even if she didn't like it. Not that I cared. She made her bed, and now she had to lie in it.
"I don't work for lunatics," she growled, still testing the rope like she thought sheer willpower would get her out of it.
I walked behind her, hands clasped behind my back. I hated playing the part, but I needed her to see it. Every word and motion reminded her that I was in control.
Good thing the girls weren't here to see this. Hermione was off in the Room of Requirement, testing the Alchemist Flask. Iris was pestering Professor McGonagall with stories about her parents. Did they know what I was doing right now? No. But even if they did, I don't think they'd object. It's not like I planned on killing her. That was Plan C. And we weren't there. Yet.
The fact that it was a genuine possibility should've worried me... but needs must. Rita could be a huge asset. That didn't mean I'd let her walk out of here without some form of leash. Truth be told, this wasn't even really about the article she wrote in the Daily Prophet. That was just the excuse. Getting someone like her under my thumb? That was the real prize.
"You wouldn't be working for me exactly," I said. "Think of it more like a collaboration. I offer protection. Access to knowledge most people would kill for. In exchange, you agree to a simple vow. No lies about me. No leaks I disapprove of. A fair deal, in my opinion."
She snorted. "You think I'd sell myself for a few scraps of news?"
"No," I replied, pausing behind her. "I think you already have. Just not to the right people."
She flinched. Just a little.
"You like the power that comes from knowing more than everyone else. I'm offering you a front-row seat to the biggest events this world has ever seen. Play nice, and you'll have headlines no one else could imagine. Don't... and we go back to the rope. Or worse."
She went quiet. Then scoffed.
"I've faced worse threats."
"I believe you," I said, and I meant it. "But I'm trying to do this in the least cruel way possible. Want to hear a secret?"
Her eyes flicked toward me. Curious now. Just a little.
"What secret?" she asked. The venom in her voice was still there, but it had softened. She was wavering now.
"I bet you did a background check on me. So tell me, Rita, what did you find out?"
I gave her a moment. She'd already taken the bait. Once I told her there wouldn't be any walking away without giving me what I wanted.
"I didn't find anything," she said slowly. "Which is strange. It's hard for Muggles to go completely unrecorded. The same goes for wizards."
Her tone was changing. She wasn't fighting anymore. She was focused. Intrigued.
"I checked every hospital near the orphanage, every government office I could access, but there was nothing."
"Nothing with the Muggles and the Ministry," I nodded. "Good to know. Thanks for the confirmation. I was curious about that myself."
I chuckled under my breath.
"And even with all that mystery surrounding me... you still decided to test me. Why?"
"You're just a boy," she snapped.
"A dangerous boy, as you must've figured out by now," I corrected her. "But fine. Here's the secret. I'm not a Muggle-born."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"I'm the Heir of the Black family," I said, smirking. "I assume you've heard of them?"
Her lips parted, but she said nothing. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.
"I thought... You're registered as Muggle-born," she muttered, narrowing her eyes. "There's no record of—"
"Do you really think the Ministry knows everything?" I asked. "They're pathetic under Fudge and his cronies. It's a government, not a god."
She didn't answer directly. But she'd stopped trying to wriggle free. That said more than any words could.
"The Black family died out," she said after a moment, her voice tight. "Everyone knows that."
"Everyone's wrong."
I crouched in front of her again, deliberately slow. She was hooked. I could feel it.
"You've made a career out of sniffing out secrets, Rita. And now you've found one big enough to shake the Wizengamot. Believe me, I know plenty more. Things that would bring down half the people in charge if they ever got out. But here's the problem. If you try to sell this without my permission, you won't live to enjoy the chaos. You'll be gone before the ink dries."
I smiled coldly.
"You know, I was speaking with the previous Lord Black. He told me he'd been waiting for someone like me to inherit the title. Said I was a true Black."
She didn't argue this time.
"You're not scared of the Ministry," she said, eyeing me like I might sprout horns. Funny, considering who my newest friend was, "But can you make it stick? Fudge may be incompetent, but he's got dangerous people around him."
"I'm aware of something far bigger than the Ministry of Magic," I replied. "And so could you, just by signing that contract."
I stood up and gestured lazily with my wand. A small parchment slipped from my sleeve and hovered before her. The same type of Vow we'd used to lock down the truth about the supernatural world. Dark but effective.
"This isn't about making you my pet, Rita. I know you're smarter than that. I'm giving you a choice. Sign this, and you walk out with access to more than you've ever dreamed of. Knowledge the Prophet would never dare print. Truths that will reshape the world."
I leaned in, my voice quiet now.
"Stories no one else will ever be allowed to write. Maybe someone tried before... but they were silenced. You'll have my protection. I promise you, I'm growing stronger by the day. Before long, no one will be able to stand against me."
She stared at the contract. I saw the shift in her breathing. Shallower, tense. She was tempted. And I barely knew her, but I could already tell. She was mine.
"And if I don't sign?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Then I Obliviate you," I said calmly. "I don't want to do anything worse, believe me. Not that this will be pleasant. But I need to protect what I know. You'll wake up in Knockturn Alley, half-mad from what I leave behind. You won't remember this. Or maybe I'll let you remember just enough to break you. Maybe I'll change your face and twist your name. You'll tell the Ministry you're Rita Skeeter, and they'll laugh in your face. Call you a pixie-dust addict screaming nonsense."
The silence stretched. She shivered, her eyes wide with fear as she whimpered.
"I don't want to hurt you, Rita," I added, a little softer now. "I just want to make sure you don't hurt me. This can work for both of us."
Her gaze drifted back to the parchment. Her jaw clenched. For someone who lived off her words, silence seemed strange.
"You really are dangerous," she whispered.
I shrugged. "Only to people who go against me."
Finally, her hand twitched. Not in defiance... but in surrender.
"Fine," she said. "Give me a quill."
I smiled and conjured an ice shard sharp enough to split a hair. "You won't need one, my dear."
Rita whimpered, but she nodded.
Grinning, I untied her wrists, keeping my magic coiled beneath the surface. I let it press against her soul, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her what would happen if she tried to run. She flinched but obeyed, taking the shard with shaky hands. She sliced her fingertip and pressed it against the parchment.
Her blood moved independently, and her name was written across the top line with intent alone.
I nodded, satisfied.
"Welcome aboard, Miss Skeeter," I said. "You're going to love it here."
Later.
The castle felt quieter than usual. Maybe it was the weight of what I'd just done with Rita. I couldn't say I regretted it—not really—but a small part of me knew my parents from my past life would've been disappointed. Still, it was necessary. I just had to be strong enough to deal with the consequences.
I wasn't proud of it, not exactly. Forcing her into a vow like that, making her work for me on command... It was cold. But I promised myself I wouldn't let her suffer. I'd make sure she became the most well-known journalist in the Wizarding World, even if I had to drag her there. It would not be too hard—I already knew what was coming. I had a weapon in my hands that could turn the entire country against the Ministry.
But that could wait.
Right now, I need to find the girls.
Shaking my head, I slipped the Marauder's Map out from my robes and unfolded it across the table before me.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," I murmured, tapping it with my wand.
I was in the common room, completely alone. Monday mornings tend to do that. Most students were in class by now—except for our year, of course. We only had Transfiguration early in the morning and Astronomy later tonight. It was a relatively free day.
Even freer for me, considering I was allowed to skip classes this year.
I knew I'd regret it eventually. Come exam season, I'd be the one cramming like a lunatic. But I already learned everything in my second year—this was just a glorified review.
My eyes scanned the map. Hermione was still in the Room of Requirement, unsurprisingly. Since I gave it to her, she'd been practically glued to that Alchemist Flask. Iris, on the other hand, was in the Infirmary.
So she'd finished grilling Professor McGonagall already.
Smiling, I stood up and started heading toward the Hospital Wing. It worked out nicely—Madam Pranitha was there too. We could get Iris and Hermione in the same place and move everything to the Room of Requirement without much trouble.
Nodding to each well-wisher I found in my way, I shook my head. Everyone in school knew me more now than in the past. Not that I was unknown; my friendship with Iris made that a moot point, but now my light shined brighter than Iris's. I suspected she was relatively happy with it, but she didn't say it.
Finally reaching the Infirmary, I knocked twice before pushing the door open.
The familiar scent of antiseptic and potions filled the air—not a good smell, but whatever. Madam Pomfrey was standing near one of the cabinets, a small vial in her hand, while Iris sat on one of the far beds. She was rigid, blushing, and glaring very intently at the wall.
I blinked.
She wasn't injured. That much was clear. But she was definitely flustered.
Madam Pomfrey glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of me. A slight, knowing smirk tugged at her lips. She said nothing and returned to organizing her potions as usual, but it felt forced.
I raised an eyebrow and looked at Iris. She avoided my eyes, but I could see her fidgeting.
She still hadn't moved.
"Iris?" I said slowly, stepping closer. "Everything alright, babe?"
She flinched slightly but turned to look at me with a entirely too forced smile.
"Oh, yeah. Fine. Totally fine," she said quickly, waving a hand like she hadn't just jumped out of her skin.
Pomfrey let out a soft, amused hum behind us.
I narrowed my eyes. "Are you sure? You look like someone who just got out of a Boggart."
"I said I'm fine," Iris replied, her voice a touch too shrill. "Nothing happened. Just a check-up."
My gaze slid toward Madam Pomfrey, who was clearly enjoying the tension far too much.
"What kind of check-up?" I asked, my suspicion rising. "Did something happen?"
"It doesn't matter!" Iris blurted, nearly tripping over her own voice. "Just... girl stuff. Private. You don't need to know."
Now, I was definitely curious.
Pomfrey turned her back very deliberately, but I saw her shoulders shaking. She was laughing—silently, but still laughing.
I glanced at Iris again. Her ears were beet red now.
Huh.
I had no idea what the hell had just happened, but I had the distinct feeling I wasn't supposed to ask about it.
So I didn't.
"Alright," I said slowly. "Are you done here? I thought we could speak with Madam Pranitha today."
"Right. Yes. Good. Let's go. Now," Iris said quickly, hopping off the bed like it was on fire.
Pomfrey finally turned around, calm and composed, like she hadn't just watched the whole thing unfold. The amused smirk on her face confused me, but there was nothing I could do right now. If Iris didn't want me to know right now, all I could do was wait.
"Take care, Miss Potter," she said sweetly. "And remember, if you need anything else... you know where to find me."
Iris practically shoved me out the door toward Madam Pranitha's office, which was on the back of the Infirmary.
Iris pushed the door open without knocking, the sharp bang of wood against stone drawing the Indian healer's attention.
"Good morning, young ones," Madam Pranitha said with a gentle smile. Her eyes lit up the moment she recognized us. "Is it time?" she asked, almost eagerly.
"I believe so, Madam Pranitha," I nodded slowly. "But before we proceed, I'd like to request a vow of silence. I need to know that whatever you discover today stays between us."
The healer didn't hesitate. "I was expecting that, young man. Don't worry, I'll give my word now."
Iris had relaxed a bit since the Infirmary, though now she glanced between us, clearly confused. Took her a second, but she figured it out. I supposed she hadn't thought much about what the healer said after the second task. Not that I blamed her. Denial was easier.
Madam Pranitha flicked her wand into her hand. It was thinner than most, elegant and grey, with a faint silver pattern running down its length like a forked tongue curling along the wood. It was beautiful in an understated way, but Something else caught my attention.
Her right hand bore a gold ring pulsed with magic—not just jewelry. It felt like a secondary focus, subtle but powerful.
"I, Pranitha Iyer, swear to remain silent regarding the outcome of my examination and to dedicate myself to instructing Iris Potter in the ways of Parselmagic for the duration of my stay within these walls. As I speak, so shall it be," she said solemnly.
Magic surged around her, a steady pulse that settled in the air. Then, with a soft shimmer, a fragment of that power split off and sank into each of us.
It was the first time I'd seen a vow cast like that. Honestly? It was fascinating.
"It's done," she said, standing up gracefully. "Now, let's find somewhere more private."
Shaking my head at how excited she sounded, I got to my feet and reached for Iris's hand, brushing my thumb softly across her knuckles.
Room of Requirement
"We brought company, love," I called out as we stepped into the shifting hallway. Mainly as a heads-up for Hermione, just in case she needed to hide anything sensitive before we arrived.
Rustling echoed from deeper inside, followed by the quiet shuffle of books being closed and packed away. We stepped through the corridor and emerged into a familiar space, a perfect copy of the Hogwarts library.
Of course. Hermione's favorite place in the entire castle.
By the time we arrived, she had already zipped up her Moleskine bag, snapping it shut with finality. When she looked up and saw us, her expression softened, until her eyes landed on Madam Pranitha. Then they widened.
"Oh! Hello, Madam Pranitha. It's a pleasure to see you again," she said quickly.
"The pleasure is mine, dear," the healer said warmly, her gaze drifting around the room. "Such a curious place... It's a shame I don't know where we are. We used so many hidden passages getting here."
I chuckled at the hint of disappointment in her voice and pulled a seat out for her.
"I'm afraid this is our own little corner of the castle, Madam," I said, grinning slightly. "Now then, who would you like to begin with?"
Madam Pranitha's gaze swept over the room again before settling on me.
"You," she said, pointing a single finger toward me. "You first."
I blinked. "Me?"
She nodded. "Before I begin with the girl's scar, I want to understand the magical environment around her. And you, young man, are steeped in it."
That... wasn't wrong. But I had a feeling that she was lying. Not that I cared, Iris's situation wasn't worsening and I already knew what it was. It wasn't a pressing matter since I genuinely didn't think the healer could fix a Horcrux without killing her.
I moved to the center of the room as she motioned for the others to give me space. Hermione stepped back near one of the floating shelves. Iris perched on the edge of a nearby table, observing everything.
Pranitha pulled her wand, and that same gold ring pulsed again. This time, the air thickened with intent. She murmured Something under her breath, words I didn't recognize, but they felt old and heavy. Her magic wove through the space like a net, enveloping me.
I felt it brushing my skin, tingling against my core uncomfortably.
She frowned.
"Hmm. Your magic... it's remarkably dense," she said. "Too dense. It resists probing, almost as if..."
Her wand flicked. The light changed. A second wave of energy wrapped around me. Stronger this time, so much that it genuinely baffled me. It felt only a little lower than the headmaster. Who knew that the healer was a bonafide monster in disguise.
Then her eyes widened.
"You have dual affinities," she said, her voice sharpening. "No… triple. Ice... fire... and... Something else. Something ancient."
"Oh, you are good, Madam Pranitha," I tilted my head. "Would you like a demonstration?"
"Please," she said quickly. Her eagerness showing.
I raised a hand and conjured a ball of frost, letting the cold spill outward into a fine mist that clung to the room's edges. I shaped it with barely a thought, forming snowflakes so beautiful they looked made in nature.
My control over my magic had improved dramatically compared to before. I could defeat the dragon much faster, even if I only used my cryomancy.
Then, without lowering my hand, I switched to fire. A blue flame surged to life, coiling above my palm like a living ribbon. It burned silently but was no less dangerous than my ice. Power through pain was one of my first powers, and it showed. Now that I could add my aetherium-based magic to it, the heat was absolutely immense.
And then I lit the air itself.
Aetherium-infused sunlight burst into existence above us, a radiant orb humming with power. Warmth flooded the room, golden and soft but with a core that pulsed with Something not entirely natural. It was divine magic, Holy magic from a different world altogether. Thanks to the grimoire, it was Something unique in this world, shocking the healer to the core.
Pranitha took a single step back.
She didn't speak for several seconds. When she did, it was with quiet reverence.
"That is not normal elemental magic," she said. "That last one... that wasn't conjured from within. It was pulled from Something deeper."
"I like to call it solar magic," I said, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal. "It is my most potent magic to date."
She gave me a look that said don't pretend this is ordinary, but chose not to push.
"I've only seen magic like this once before," she murmured. "A long time ago, during the war."
"Oh? Is it someone we know?" Hermione asked softly.
Pranitha didn't answer right away. Her eyes stayed on me.
"Where are your parents from, child?" she asked.
I blinked. "I grew up in an orphanage."
Her gaze sharpened. "That's not what I asked."
"I wouldn't know," I said simply. "I grew up as a muggle until I got the Hogwarts letter, and I was never really interested in who my parents were."
The silence dragged for a moment. Then, surprisingly, she let it drop.
"Very well," she said quietly. "Then I'll say this. Your magic is far stronger than it should be. It is not just your magic; your body is also highly developed in ways that baffle me. I can admit that I have never seen someone with a body like yours."
"Thanks, I put a lot of effort into it," I chuckled.
She stepped closer, her tone growing serious.
"You think this world is limited to schools and Ministries. You think the highest power lies in who controls wands and bloodlines. But I'm telling you now, young man…your perspective is narrow."
Huh… so she knows about the supernatural.
Behind her, Hermione and Iris shared a glance.
"We know about that," Iris said softly.
Pranitha raised an eyebrow.
I gave her a careful smile. "We've... seen things. Beyond the veil of wizarding society."
She didn't respond to that. Not with words. But her expression told me she had a dozen questions bottled up.
"How long have you known?" she asked. "And what exactly have you seen?"
I folded my arms. "Let's say... enough to understand that the world is bigger than what they teach in the Ministry-approved textbooks. Enough to know how small we are."
She tilted her head. "And you're not one of them?"
I met her gaze evenly. "Not that I know."
For a moment, her face was unreadable. Then, to my surprise, she smiled.
"I learned about the supernatural during the war against Grindelwald. It was one of them who injured the Dark Lord to such an extent that allowed the Allied forces to defeat him in the end, and believe me, I've been dying to learn more about them, but I simply couldn't do so without risking my life."
She took a deep breath. "I have no doubt that you are Something else. You are not a wizard, young Elias, at least not only that. You need to be careful, young man. Many people will go against you before you can grow more."
"What do you mean, Madam Pranitha?" Iris asked sharply.
The healer laughed, "What did you think, girl? That the secret of the supernatural was hidden just like that? No… every Ministry has a group that ensures nothing comes to light, and at the pace this young man is growing, it won't take too long before they do something."
I felt a pit in my stomach before I squashed it. I was strong and needed to keep growing before they could do anything to me or my loved ones. I just had to train even harder than before.
"We'll be careful," I nodded slowly, "Do you know who they are?"
She shook her head slowly, "Not completely, but I believe it's a cell inside the Department of Mysteries; at least in India, they are even above the Minister. I don't think he even thinks such a group exists. I suppose it would be the same here. But don't worry, they won't attack you right now; you are in the eyes of the Wizarding World thanks to the tournament, and at the pace you are growing, you might be strong enough to prevent them from doing anything next year."
"I'll keep an eye on your progress during my stay here; that way, I can learn more about your biology and magic. We will have meetings at least once a week. Is that okay with you?" she asked brightly.
I couldn't help my lips from twitching at her eagerness but let it go. Having such a talented healer checking me out would only help me. She was strong, at least the same amount of magic as me, and old… she was a treasure trove of knowledge.
Nodding, I smiled, "I think that is acceptable, Madam Pranitha. I'll be under your care."
She smiled widely before turning to Iris, "Now let's see what we got here."
Madam Pranitha approached Iris slowly, her expression thoughtful.
She didn't speak at first; she just raised her wand and circled Iris once, letting the tip glide just a few inches from her skin. The magic she wove was silent. No incantation or flash, but the air thickened again.
When she stopped in front of Iris, her gaze was fixed on her forehead.
"May I, dear?" she asked gently and Iris gave a hesitant nod.
Pranitha reached out and brushed her fingers just above the scar. Her touch didn't make contact, but her magic did. It pulsed in the space between them like a string being plucked, resonating faintly in the now quiet room.
Her brows drew together almost instantly.
"This mark... I was right; it is cursed," she whispered. "Very old, very dark. Sacrificial Magic? It's possible, but there is more. There are traces of Soul Magic."
Iris stiffened slightly, then looked at me and Hermione. Her eyes asked a silent question.
I gave her a slight nod. So did Hermione.
She took a deep breath.
"It hurts," she admitted. "Not always, but... when Voldemort's nearby, it burns. It is an uncomfortable and sharp pain."
Pranitha's head snapped up.
"Voldemort? Do you mean the Dark Lord? He's... alive?"
Iris nodded firmly before shrugging, "Something like that. Not whole, at least not yet. We have faced him twice ever since we started school. Once during our first year as a wraith. He was on the back of a professor, using unicorn blood to keep said professor alive. He was rotting his body."
Hermione gagged, and Iris shivered before continuing.
"During our second year, it was different," Hermione took a deep breath, "There was a diary; it possessed a good friend of us to unleash a Basilisk in school, but Elias bought a rooster to weaken it before we killed it and stopped him from leeching our friend lifeforce."
Pranitha shook her head in horror. Her face was somewhat pale, but not from fear. She didn't fear Voldemort at all.
"No… it cannot be," she murmured, horrified.
"Do you know what it is, Madam Pranitha?" Iris asked in excitement, "Can you fix it?"
"Not completely," she said slowly. "I have my theories, but I cannot answer you before I study them in length. I'm afraid that I'm not an expert in soul magic, but I have access to many books on that topic. Give me some time to make sure, but I can do a small cleansing ritual to prevent your scar from worsening, girl."
I looked at the healer deeply, having my suspicions that she knew what exactly was on Iris's scar, but I didn't push her. I didn't want Iris to worry more than needed. If Pranitha couldn't fix her, we still had Seekvaira and the devil kind to seek another way.
The healer moved urgently, taking a silver bowl from somewhere, a bunch of golden sand, and a knife made of clear rock. I had no idea what each thing was, but if it helped, who was I to say no?
"Sit cross-legged, dear, and take off your clothes," Pranitha said seriously.
Iris nodded without a sound; she took off her clothes and sat in the middle of the room.
Pranitha frowned deeply as she painted some runes on Iris' body with the sand before standing up, nodding satisfactorily after a final check.
Low, hissing noises filled the Room of Requirements, and the magic began thrumming in anticipation. The runes began to brighten as the air across the room thickened before everything stopped instantly.
A dark aura flew out of Iris's scar, but a golden light tied it against her head before pushing it inside with a ghostly hiss. Iris whimpered and grabbed her head.
I had never felt this useless.
The healer's legs gave out as she fell to her knees, her arm trembling from effort as she panted, "It's not a fix, but it will prevent the situation from worsening, child. It is the most I can do without knowing more. I will take my leave to study this case in depth. I will ask you to approach me once a week so that I can check the seal."
Hermione was cooing at Iris, Iris's head cradled in her arms. I nodded at Madam Pranitha in thanks before helping her stand out.
"You have made a friend in me today; you have my thanks," I said solemnly.
"It is my duty, my dear," she smiled softly before she scowled, "I will not allow a child to suffer if I can't help it."
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