Hello, Drinor here. I'm happy to publish a new Chapter of The Tarnished Potter.
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Chapter 4 (The Grafting Song), Chapter 5 (The Boy Who Lives Meets The Eye That Dreams), Chapter 6 (A Door to Nowhere), Chapter 7 (Cleanrot Knight), and Chapter 8 (The Red Chains of Order) are already available for Patrons.
Harry sat by the fire, watching the flames dance. "Earlier, you mentioned something about the Elden Ring being shattered," he said, turning to Melina. "And that there's no order in this world. What did you mean by that?"
Melina's purple eye reflected the firelight as she considered her response. "This land was once ruled by Queen Marika the Eternal. For thousands of years, the Golden Order maintained peace and stability throughout the realm."
"Thousands of years?" Harry interrupted. "How is that possible?"
"Marika is a goddess," Melina said simply as if this explained everything. "But even gods can be broken. During the Night of Black Knives, her son, Godwyn the Golden, was slain."
"Her son?" Harry's mind went to his own mother, who had died protecting him.
"Yes. They say Marika's grief drove her to madness. In her despair, she shattered the Elden Ring itself." Melina's voice grew quieter. "Her children each claimed a fragment of the ring, and now they wage war against one another, each seeking to become the next Elden Lord."
Harry frowned, thinking of the wars in his own world, of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. "But what about the normal people? The ones caught in the middle of all this fighting?"
Melina turned to look at him, surprise evident in her expression. "You have a good heart, Harry. Not many ask about the common folk."
"What do you mean?" Harry's frown deepened. "Doesn't anyone care about them?"
Kale let out a bitter laugh from his spot across the fire. "Care? The demigods care about as much for common folk as they do for the dirt beneath their feet."
"The merchant speaks truly," Melina said softly. "The common people, the creatures of this land... many cling to whatever power they can find, serving whoever might protect them, hoping that their loyalty will somehow restore the world to what it once was."
"That's horrible," Harry said. "They're just being used."
"Much like your Ministry uses the common folk, eh?" Kale interjected. When Harry looked at him in surprise, the merchant shrugged. "You mentioned them earlier. Doesn't sound so different from our demigods, just on a smaller scale."
"But..." Harry started to protest, then stopped. Hadn't he seen how the Ministry treated people? How they'd been ready to execute Buckbeak just to appease Lucius Malfoy? How they'd sent Hagrid to Azkaban without a trial?
"The strong survive," Melina said, though she didn't sound happy about it. "The weak serve or perish. That is the way of the Lands Between now."
"It shouldn't be," Harry said firmly. "There has to be a better way."
"Perhaps," Melina said, studying him with renewed interest. "But change would require someone with both the power and the will to make it happen. Someone who cares more about helping others than gaining power for themselves."
"Like a proper Elden Lord should be," Kale added. "Though good luck finding one of those these days."
Harry stared into the fire, thinking. "These fragments of the Elden Ring... what exactly do they do?"
"They grant great power," Melina explained. "Each fragment contains a portion of the ring's strength. Some say that if all the fragments were reunited, the world could be restored."
"But instead, everyone's fighting over them for themselves," Harry concluded.
"Indeed. Malenia and Miquella, Radahn, Mohg, Rykard..." Melina listed names Harry didn't recognize. "Each believes they are the rightful heir to the ring."
"Sounds familiar," Harry muttered, thinking of pure-blood supremacy and the war brewing in his own world.
"You see similarities to your own land?" Melina asked.
Harry nodded. "There are people there too who think they deserve power more than others. Who don't care who they hurt to get it."
"And what do you think about that?" Melina's question seemed carefully neutral.
"I think it's wrong," Harry said without hesitation. "Power should be used to help people, not control them."
Kale whistled. "Dangerous thoughts, those. Though I can't say I disagree."
"Is that why you fight?" Melina asked. "In your world?"
Harry thought about it. Why did he fight? Against Quirrell, against the basilisk, against the dementors... "I fight to protect those I care about."
A small smile crossed Melina's face. "Perhaps you are more suited to be Tarnished than you think."
"I told you, I'm not—"
"Not in the way you think," she interrupted gently. "The Tarnished were meant to be champions of change. To challenge the old order when it became corrupted. Though many have lost their way..."
"Like everything else in this cursed land," Kale added cheerfully. "No offense to present company, of course."
Harry looked down at his hands, remembering the lightning that had erupted from them earlier. "I just want to get home," he said quietly. "My friends need me."
"And we'll help you find a way," Melina assured him. "But while you're here... perhaps you can help make a difference in this world too."
"How? I can barely control these new powers."
"You'll learn," Melina said. "And you already have something many in this land have lost."
"What's that?"
"Compassion," she said simply. "The ability to care about more than just power. That's rarer than any magic."
Harry was about to respond when another howl split the night air, much closer this time.
"Blaidd?" he asked.
"Yes," Melina confirmed. "We should rest. Tomorrow, we'll need to move. The Church of Elleh won't be safe forever."
"Where will we go?"
"To seek answers," Melina said. "And perhaps to find others who remember what it means to fight for more than just power."
As Harry settled down to sleep, he couldn't help but think about how similar the problems in this world were to his own. Different names, different powers, but the same basic struggle between those who wanted power and those who suffered because of it.
He might be lost in a strange world, but at least he understood that much.
As silence fell between them, Harry turned to Melina. "Why are you helping me? Really?"
"As I said, it's my purpose to help the Tarnished," Melina replied simply.
Harry's face darkened. "That's... that's not right."
"What do you mean?"
"No one should exist just to serve someone else," Harry said firmly, memories of Dobby's servitude flashing through his mind. "You should have your own purpose, beyond just helping others."
Melina shook her head gently. "You don't understand, Harry. I was made for this. To guide the Tarnished on their journey—"
"No," Harry interrupted, his green eyes intense in the firelight. "I don't accept that. Just like you're helping me, I'll help you find a purpose beyond just being... being someone's guide."
"Harry..." Melina started to argue, but something in his expression made her pause. A small smile tugged at her lips. "Your care is touching, even if misplaced."
Harry felt his face grow warm at her smile, and he quickly looked down at the fire.
Kale burst into laughter. "Oh ho! Look at that! Our young Tarnished here turns as red as those scarlet rot clouds he conjured!"
"Shut up," Harry muttered, his face growing even warmer.
Melina let out a soft giggle, covering her mouth with her hand, which only made Harry's embarrassment worse.
"Ah, to be young again," Kale wiped a tear from his eye. "When a pretty maiden's smile could set your face ablaze faster than any dragon's fire!"
"I said shut up," Harry grumbled, but there was no real anger in his voice. "Don't you have something to sell?"
"Indeed I do!" Kale's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps a remedy for that fierce blush of yours?"
Even Melina was laughing now, her usual serene demeanor cracking as she tried to maintain her composure.
"You're both terrible," Harry declared, but he found himself smiling despite his embarrassment. It reminded him of how Hermione would sometimes tease him, though thinking of her made his heart ache with homesickness.
Melina seemed to notice the shift in his mood. "Your kindness... it's rare here," she said softly. "But Harry, some purposes aren't chains. They're choices."
"Then choose something more," Harry insisted, meeting her gaze again. "Something for yourself."
For a moment, Melina's purple eye seemed to shimmer with something unsaid. "Perhaps... perhaps we can help each other find our paths."
"Now that," Kale interjected, his voice gentler than before, "sounds like the beginning of a proper tale."
Tomorrow
Harry blinked awake, sunlight streaming through the hole in the church roof. For a moment, he stared at the crumbling stonework, his heart sinking as reality settled in. It hadn't been a dream after all.
"You are finally awake. I thought you would never wake up – is this a wizard thing?"
Harry turned to see Merchant Kale hunched over the fire, carefully tending to an old brass teapot. The merchant's hat was tilted at an odd angle as he stirred something into the pot.
"What are you making?" Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"Ha! Don't tell me wizards don't drink tea where you're from?"
"Of course we drink tea," Harry said, slightly offended. "I meant what kind of tea is it?"
"Ah!" Kale brightened. "Got some special fruits from my... friend yesterday." His tone soured slightly on the word 'friend.' "Makes for a lucky morning brew, or so they say. Though considering your lightning display last night, perhaps we should be drinking something more calming, eh?"
Harry noticed the change in Kale's usually cheerful demeanor. "This friend of yours... they don't sound like much of a friend."
Kale let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Friend? That baldheaded leech? He's a friend to no one, boy. He'd sell his own mother for a handful of runes – assuming he had one."
"Who is he?"
"Patches," Kale spat the name like it was poisonous. "Listen well, Tarnished. If you ever meet a bald fellow named Patches, don't trust a single word that slithers out of his mouth. Though..." he stirred the tea thoughtfully, "the cunt does have a talent for finding valuable things."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Finds them? Or steals them?"
"Ha! Sharp lad!" Kale grinned. "Let's just say Patches has never met an abandoned treasure he didn't think belonged in his pocket. Or an unsuspecting traveler he wouldn't kick off a cliff for their boots."
"He kicks people off cliffs?" Harry asked, alarmed.
"Among other things," Kale nodded, pouring tea into two chipped cups. "Still, in times like these, even a snake like Patches has his uses. Speaking of snakes..." He glanced at Harry curiously. "we've got plenty of those here. The serpent folk aren't exactly—the friendliest bunch."
"Serpent folk?" Harry's eyes widened. "Like... people who are part snake?"
"Oh yes," Kale chuckled. "Most of them would rather eat you than look at you."
"I... I can actually talk to snakes," Harry said hesitantly. "Back in my world. It's called Parseltongue."
Kale's eyebrows shot up beneath his hat. "Talk to snakes, eh? Now that's interesting. Though I wouldn't recommend trying it with our local variety. They're not your garden variety serpents."
"Why not?"
"Let's just say when these snakes invite you for dinner, you're not the guest – you're the main course." Kale took a sip of his tea. "Though they're the least of your worries. Where's your guide this morning, by the way?"
Harry looked around, realizing Melina was nowhere to be seen. "I don't know. She was here when I fell asleep."
"She comes and goes," Kale said, waving his hand dismissively. "Like morning mist. Though speaking of coming and going..." He jerked his thumb toward the church entrance. "Our wolf friend's been prowling about since dawn."
Harry stood up quickly, nearly spilling his tea. "Blaidd?"
"Unless there's another eight-foot wolf warrior in these parts," Kale smirked. "Though I'd finish that tea first if I were you. Lucky morning and all that."
Harry looked dubiously at the golden liquid. "What's actually in this?"
"Best not to ask too many questions about gifts from Patches," Kale winked. "Though I did test it on myself first. I'm not completely mad."
"That's... not very reassuring."
"Welcome to the Lands Between, boy!" Kale laughed. "Where even the tea might try to kill you. Though if it makes you feel better, I also made Patches drink it before I bought it. Even he's not stupid enough to poison himself."
Harry stared at his cup. "You're really not selling this."
"Bah, where's your sense of adventure? You fought werewolves and shot lightning from your hands, but you're scared of a little mysterious tea?"
"When you put it that way..." Harry sighed and drank the rest in one gulp. It tasted like sunshine might, if sunshine had a taste – warm and bright and oddly energizing.
"There's a good lad!" Kale approved. "Now, about that wolf—"
A deep howl cut through the morning air, much closer than before.
"Sounds like someone's getting impatient," Kale observed. "Best not keep him waiting. Wolves aren't known for their patience, especially ones carrying greatswords."
"Right," Harry stood, straightening his clothes. "Um, thanks for the tea."
"Don't mention it," Kale waved. "Though if you see Patches, feel free to mention that his 'special fruits' were half-rotten. Might encourage him to actually check his goods before selling them next time."
"I thought you said they were fine?"
"Oh, they were," Kale's eyes twinkled. "But it'll drive him mad wondering if he got cheated on the deal. Small pleasures, Tarnished. Small pleasures."
Another howl, even closer.
"You should go," Kale said, more seriously. "And Harry?"
Harry paused at the entrance, surprised to hear the merchant use his actual name.
"Whatever Blaidd wants... remember that even the most loyal can be tested when the world breaks. Trust your instincts."
"What do you mean?"
"Just an old merchant's ramblings," Kale said, his usual cheerful demeanor returning. "Now off with you! I've got a roof to repair, thanks to someone's lightning temper!"
As Harry stepped out into the morning light, he could have sworn he heard Kale humming what sounded suspiciously like "God Save the Queen," but that couldn't be right... could it?
As Harry stepped out of the Church of Elleh, the morning sun warming his face, a familiar voice spoke beside him.
"Did you sleep well?"
Harry jumped, turning to his left to see Melina standing there as if she'd been there all along. "Where did you come from?"
"I can use the grace to travel, just as you can," she explained. "Though for now, you're only connected to the grace within the church." She paused, looking toward the treeline. "I was... attending to something."
Harry nodded, though he noticed she didn't actually explain what she'd been doing. His attention was drawn to movement at the edge of the forest, where several soldiers milled about. Some stood around a small fire, their armor glinting in the morning light.
"Who are they?" Harry asked, watching as one soldier dragged what looked like a heavy sack toward the others.
"They serve Godrick the Grafted," Melina's voice dripped with disgust. "Bringing him fresh... supplies."
Something about the way she said 'supplies' made Harry's stomach turn. "What has this Godrick done? Why do you say his name like that?"
"Are you familiar with the term 'grafting'?" Melina asked carefully.
Harry frowned, trying to remember. "I've heard it before... something to do with plants, maybe? Professor Sprout mentioned it once, I think."
"In this case, it refers to a more grotesque practice," Melina said quietly. "Godrick takes body parts – arms, legs, even entire torsos – from other creatures and Tarnished. He grafts them onto his own body in an attempt to make himself stronger."
Harry felt bile rise in his throat. "He... what?"
"He believes that by accumulating more and more limbs, he can achieve the strength of a true demigod," Melina continued. "Those sacks his soldiers carry... they contain his next 'additions.'"
Harry stared at the soldiers, horrified. "How can they serve someone like that? How can they help him do such terrible things?"
"As I said last night," Melina sighed, "many have lost all hope. They cling to any power they can find, no matter how twisted. Some believe that by serving Godrick, they'll be spared his... attention."
"That's mad," Harry said, watching as another soldier emerged from the trees with another sack. "They're helping him murder people!"
"The world has gone mad," Melina agreed. "When the Elden Ring shattered, it broke more than just the Golden Order. It broke people's minds, their morality."
One of the soldiers looked in their direction, and Harry instinctively stepped back into the shadow of the church.
"Don't worry," Melina said. "They won't come here. Even Godrick's men respect the sanctity of a place of grace... for now."
"For now?"
"His hunger grows," she explained. "Each grafting requires more and more... material. Soon, nowhere will be safe."
Harry thought of Voldemort, of how his followers brought him victims, just like these soldiers. "Someone has to stop him."
"Many have tried," Melina said. "The castle walls are decorated with their remains."
"Castle?"
Melina pointed to the horizon, where Harry could see the same castle he had seen since coming here. "Stormveil Castle. Godrick's domain."
"And people just... let him do this?"
"Who would stop him?" Melina asked. "The other demigods are too busy fighting each other, and most Tarnished..." she trailed off.
"What about the Tarnished?"
"Most seek only to gain power for themselves," she said sadly. "Some even willingly offer themselves to Godrick, hoping he'll grant them a place among his favored servants."
Harry watched as the soldiers began moving out, their grim cargo in tow. "Where are they taking those... those..."
"Best not to think about it," Melina advised. "Though if you hear screaming from the castle tonight, try not to listen too closely."
"This is horrible," Harry muttered. "In my world, we have someone evil too – Voldemort. But even he doesn't... I mean, he kills people, but this..."
"Different worlds, different horrors," Melina said softly. "Though perhaps not so different at their core. Power corrupts, no matter the realm."
A scream echoed from the forest, quickly cut short. Harry started forward instinctively, but Melina caught his arm.
"You can't save everyone," she said gently. "Not yet."
"Not yet?" Harry turned to her. "What does that mean?"
"It means you need to learn more, grow stronger. Rushing in now would only add your limbs to Godrick's collection."
"So we just watch? Do nothing?"
"For now," Melina nodded. "But Harry..." she smiled slightly. "Your desire to help... keep hold of that. Don't let this world's madness dull your compassion. It may be your greatest strength."
"Fat lot of good compassion does against someone who collects body parts," Harry muttered.
"You'd be surprised," Melina said. "The strongest warriors I've known weren't those who fought for power or glory, but those who fought to protect others."
Another scream pierced the morning air.
"We should go," Melina said. "We have much to discuss."
"About what?"
"About how to make you strong enough to face the horrors of this world," she said. "Without losing yourself to them."
As they walked away from the church, Harry couldn't help but look back at the forest. The soldiers were gone now, but he could still see the smoke from their fire rising above the trees.
"I'll stop him," Harry said quietly. "Somehow."
"I believe you will," Melina replied. "But first, you need to learn how to survive here. The Lands Between show no mercy to the unprepared."
"Like that tea Kale gave me this morning?"
Melina actually laughed. "Ah, he gave you Patches' special brew? And you're still standing? Perhaps you're stronger than we thought."
"Who is Patches anyway? Kale wasn't very... complimentary."
"That," Melina said, her eye twinkling, "is a story for another time. Though if you meet a bald man who calls you 'good friend,' run."
⚯ ͛
"One way to become stronger," Melina began, "is to defeat the creatures of this land."
Harry's expression darkened as memories flooded back. "I... I've killed before. Professor Quirrell, though that wasn't really my choice. And the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets." He paused, remembering the cold feeling that had washed over him in his third year. "My Patronus even killed a Dementor once, when they were trying to attack my godfather."
"This is different," Melina explained gently. "In the Lands Between, every living thing – and even some things that aren't quite living – holds what we call Runes within them."
"Runes?"
"Think of them as... crystallized power. When you defeat a creature, their Runes pass to you, making you stronger."
Harry's brow furrowed in thought. "So... the more powerful something is, the more Runes they would have?"
Melina's eye brightened. "Exactly! I'm glad you're beginning to understand our world's rules."
"Where can I find these Runes?" Harry asked, his mind already working through the possibilities.
"There are caves and catacombs scattered throughout the lands," Melina said. "But..." she hesitated, "you're not ready for those yet."
"Because of my magic?" Harry asked. "Because I can't control it?"
"Yes. Your dragon incantation is powerful, but unreliable. Right now, it's your only means of defense, and you can't even summon it at will."
Harry nodded, thinking of how he used the lightning spear when he got very angry. "Then that's the first thing we need to work on – finding a way to control this dragon magic whenever I want to use it."
Melina smiled, a gentle, almost cute expression that seemed to light up her usually serious face. "Now you're thinking like a proper Tarnished."
"Though," Harry added with a slight grimace, "I'd rather not rely on getting angry every time I need to defend myself. That sounds exhausting."
"And dangerous," Melina agreed. "Strong emotions can be a powerful catalyst for magic, but they can also be unpredictable. We need to find a way for you to channel this power through focus and will, not just through fear or anger."
"Like casting a proper spell," Harry mused. "When I cast Expecto Patronum, I have to focus on a happy memory, but I'm in control of the magic. I'm not just... exploding with it."
"Exactly. Though I must admit, your 'explosion' last night was quite impressive," Melina said with a hint of amusement.
"Yeah, well, let's hope I can learn to do it without destroying any more church roofs," Harry said. "Kale wasn't too pleased about that."
"Oh, I don't know," Melina giggled. "I think he rather enjoyed the excitement. It's been a while since anything interesting happened at the Church of Elleh. Usually, it's just merchants complaining about Patches."
⚯ ͛
Harry stood in the clearing near the Church of Elleh, his face scrunched in concentration. For the past two hours, he'd been trying to recreate the lightning that had nearly destroyed the church's roof.
"Maybe try channeling the grace through your—" Melina began.
"I told you," Harry interrupted, frustrated, "I can't feel this 'grace' thing you keep talking about."
"Right, sorry," Melina said. "Old habits. Though I must say, your angry face is quite impressive. Very lightning-summoning-worthy."
Harry shot her a look. "Not helping."
"On the contrary, I'm being extremely helpful. I'm providing moral support through humor." She paused. "At least, I think that's what humor is supposed to do. It's been a while since I've had anyone to joke with."
Harry couldn't help but smile. Despite the situation, there was something endearing about Melina's attempts at levity.
"Focus on the feeling," she suggested. "What were you thinking when it happened before?"
"I was angry," Harry said, closing his eyes. "But also... scared? Not for myself, but..."
"For others," Melina finished. "That seems to be a pattern with you."
Harry opened his palm, trying to channel that protective instinct. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a tiny crackle, a bolt of lightning no bigger than his little finger appeared above his hand.
"I did it!" Harry exclaimed.
"Oh my," Melina said with mock seriousness. "Truly, Godrick will flee in terror when he sees this fearsome weapon. I can picture him now, running through his castle: 'Help! Help! The Tarnished has a sparkler!'"
"Oh, shut up," Harry laughed. "At least it's something."
"Indeed it is," Melina's tone grew more genuine. "And you did it without trying to blow up any more church roofs. Kale will be relieved."
For the next five hours, Harry practiced. The sun moved across the sky as he managed to create two more small bolts.
"Three tiny lightning bolts," Melina said, her face stern as she studied his efforts. "The output is insufficient. You'll need significantly more power to survive what's coming."
"You know," Harry said, concentrating on maintaining the bolts, "in my world, we have something called 'constructive criticism.'"
"This is not your world anymore," Melina replied coldly. "And here, insufficient power means death. The creatures that hunt us won't hesitate because your magic is weak."
Harry was about to retort when an idea struck him. He brought the three small bolts together, and with a sharp crack, they merged into a single bolt the length of his hand.
"Better," Melina acknowledged, though her expression remained grave. "But you'll need more than incremental improvements to survive what awaits us."
"How exactly am I supposed to—" Harry began, but stopped at the sound of splashing from the nearby lake.
The lobster raised its claws, water gathering at the tips.
"Melina?"
"Focus," she commanded, her voice sharp. "Its shell deflects lightning, but the eyes are vulnerable. One shot, Harry. That's all you'll have before it releases those water jets."
"You could have mentioned this earlier!"
"You learn or you die. That's the nature of this realm." Melina's hand moved to the hilt of her blade. "If you miss, I'll try to draw it away, but you'll need to strike true in that moment. We won't get another chance."
The lobster lunged, and Harry rolled aside as pressurized water carved a deep groove in the earth where he'd stood.
"Now, Harry!" Melina's voice cut through the chaos. "Strike now, before it reorients!"
The creature's eyestalks swiveled toward him, and Harry realized with terrible clarity that Melina was right – this wasn't his world anymore, and hesitation meant death.
The water jet sliced through a tree behind Harry, cutting it cleanly in half.
"Alright," Melina's voice turned serious. "Fun's over. These creatures are dangerous, Harry. Keep moving - they're fast but their turns are wide."
Harry rolled again as the lobster's massive claw crashed into the ground. The impact sent tremors through the earth, nearly knocking him off balance.
"Their shell is like armor," Melina called out. "But like any armor, it has weak points. Watch its movements!"
Harry circled the creature, maintaining distance while forming another lightning bolt. The lobster tracked him with its eyestalks, preparing another water jet.
"The joints!" Melina shouted. "Where the shell segments meet!"
But Harry had noticed something else - the water pooling around the lobster's feet from its own attacks. An idea struck him, reminiscent of something Hermione had once explained about electricity and conductivity.
"What happens if I—" Harry began.
"Whatever you're thinking, do it fast!" Melina warned as the lobster began to burrow.
Harry hurled his lightning bolt, not at the creature, but into the puddle beneath it. The effect was instantaneous. While the shell resisted the electricity, the water conducted it straight to the lobster's exposed flesh beneath. The creature emerged with a shriek, its movements becoming erratic.
"Clever!" Melina called out. "Now finish it!"
The lobster, enraged and disoriented, charged directly at Harry. Instead of dodging, he stood his ground, concentrating with everything he had. Two lightning bolts formed in his hands, larger than before, fueled by desperation and determination.
The lobster's eyestalks loomed over him, and Harry saw his chance. With a yell, he thrust both bolts upward, driving them deep into the creature's eyes.
The shriek that followed was deafening. The massive lobster thrashed, its claws flailing wildly, before crashing to the ground with an impact that nearly knocked Harry off his feet.
Harry stood there, chest heaving, his arms trembling from exhaustion. His clothes were soaked, and small cuts from the water jets stung across his arms.
Suddenly, a warm sensation spread through his chest, like sunlight flooding through his body. It lasted only seconds, but it left him feeling... different. Stronger, somehow.
"What... what was that?" he gasped, looking at Melina.
"Those were your first runes," she said, walking over to examine the fallen creature. "Not bad for your first proper fight as a Tarnished. Though I imagine you had similar battles in your world?"
"Nothing quite like this," Harry said, still catching his breath. "I mean, I fought a basilisk once, but I had a sword then. And Fawkes helped. And I didn't get any... runes from it."
"The basilisk would have given quite a few runes," Melina mused. "Shame about that. Though I'm more interested in how you thought to use the water. Most Tarnished would have just kept attacking the shell until they tired themselves out."
"Hermione once told me about conductivity," Harry explained. "How electricity travels through water. I just thought... maybe lightning would work the same way."
"Hermione seems quite clever," Melina observed. "Is she the one you're so eager to return to?"
Harry felt his face warm slightly. "She's my friend. My best friend, really. She's always been there for me."
"Just a friend?" Melina's tone was innocent, but her eye held a knowing look.
"Yes," Harry said quickly. "Just a friend."
"If you say so," Melina smiled. "Well," she said, changing the subject, "what did you learn from this fight?"
"That I never want to eat lobster again?"
Melina laughed. "Besides that."
"That I need to get stronger," Harry said seriously. "A lot stronger. If this was just a 'warm-up' like you said..."
"Good," Melina nodded. "Though I'd say you learned something else too. Strength isn't just about power - it's about using what you have cleverly. The lightning trick with the water? That was good thinking. Keep doing that."
"Thanks," Harry said, then groaned as his muscles protested. "Though right now, I think I just want to rest."
"Rest can wait," Melina said. "First, we need to make sure you can still create those lightning bolts. The worst time to discover your powers aren't working is when you're facing another enemy."
"You're worse than Oliver Wood," Harry muttered.
"Who?"
"My Quidditch captain. He was... never mind. Another story from my world."
"You'll have to tell me sometime," Melina said. "But for now, let's see those lightning bolts again. Unless you're too tired?"
Harry sighed and raised his hand, concentrating. A bolt formed, smaller than during the fight, but steady.
"See?" Melina smiled. "Getting easier already. Though I still think a sheep would only be mildly concerned."
"Melina?"
"Yes?"
"Shut up."
Her laughter echoed across the lake, where the water was finally settling after their battle. As Harry continued practicing, he couldn't help but smile. Despite the danger, despite being lost in this strange world, he was getting stronger. And somehow, having Melina there - even with her constant teasing - made it all seem a bit less daunting.
"You know," Melina said after a while, "most Tarnished take much longer to get their first runes. You might actually have a chance against Godrick."
"Really?"
"No, he'd still crush you like a grape. But at least now you might make him work for it a little."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"You're welcome," she said cheerfully. "Now, shall we work on making those lightning bolts bigger? Unless you're planning to fight only very small enemies from now on."
Harry groaned but raised his hands again. It was going to be a long day.
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