Chapter 60.1- Doom Days

XXXX- HARRY POTTER

“Well, that was weird” I said to everyone else on the table as Moody and Tonks made an about turn and began to make their way out of the hall.

“Was that truth? About the other boy?” Cece asked, giving me a look I couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah, I grew up with those boys and if anyone is hunting that group down, then Gladwell will be next on the list”

“How horrible” Angel said while Cece just gave him a look.

“I don’t think it’s as horrible as you might think” She said.

“What do you mean? Surely you don’t know them?” I asked. I knew Malcolm Gladwell’s death was going to make the world a better place than it had been before he died, but that was because I had the benefit of having grown up with him. To anyone else, the deaths should seem like a tragedy. Or at least an unfortunate situation. Definitely not something to be applauded.

“I don’t. But I know you to some extent. And what did you call them again? The worst kind of muggles? By the way, the word you use for the unblessed is an interesting one. But that is beside the point. You wouldn’t have called them the worst of their kind without reason.” She said, her look telling me that she very much wanted to know what those reasons were and why I thought so lowly of them.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong. Let’s just ay that I have some history with them and leave it at that. Now can we talk about something else”

— THE SEMI FINALS —

There were only four duelists left in the running. Contrary to what I had thought after the Round of 16, Cece had won her duel. She’d done it in spectacular fashion even. Overcoming her opponents use of weather charms and mirrored shields. Now it was time to see if she would be facing me or either of the other two who had made it this far. Aleksander Volkov who had graduated Durmstrang this year but not participated in the Triwizard was one of them, and the other was Ifeoma Okonkwo, a student from Uagadou who was almost singlehandedly going to put her nation on the map from her actions here.

Aleksander stood at a massive six feet— probably six or seven inches on top of that. His shoulders broad as I’d ever seen on a human not named Hagrid and his arms so muscled they looked like they could crush my head between them just by flexing. And he was the lesser threat. He dueled well. No one who had made it this far didn’t duel well. I’d heard it said among some of those who regularly attended these things that any of us who made it to the Semis would have been in contention to win any of the previous years. But Okonkwo? She was special. Around her neck was a wooden totem, an amulet with a centerpiece sculpted to look like a praying doll.