Brothers Conflict

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Oliver walked back to the Great Hall, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. Throughout the entire walk, Henry's piercing gaze bore into him, his clenched fists and furrowed brow betraying his anger. It was evident that Henry wanted to say something, but he remained silent, the tension between them palpable.

As Oliver entered the Great Hall, Hermione hurried over, her concern etched on her face. "What's going on? Did you really put your name in?" she asked, her voice filled with urgency.

"No, Hermione, I swear I didn't," Oliver replied, frustration and confusion evident in his voice. "I have no idea how it got in there. Dumbledore believes me, but despite that, he said I still have to compete."

A sarcastic chuckle escaped Henry, punctuating the air as he turned away. The anger radiating from him was impossible to ignore. It was clear that he harbored resentment towards Oliver, blaming him for a situation that was completely out of his control.

"There's got to be something we can do! Did you try to help him?" Isabella said, turning to Henry, her voice filled with desperation and pleading.

Henry sarcastically chuckled once again, his eyes cold and derisive. "Help him? Why would I do that? I bet this is all going according to his little plan," he sneered, his words dripping with venom.

"I didn't plan any of this, Henry, I swear!" Oliver cried out, his voice cracking with heartfelt sincerity.

Henry dismissively waved his hand in Oliver's direction, his expression filled with disdain, as if brushing off the notion of Oliver's innocence. He turned away, refusing to acknowledge Oliver's pleas.

Frustration and anger surged through Oliver, overpowering his restraint. In a moment of heated emotion, he grabbed Henry by the shoulder, his grip tight and urgent. "Is there something you want to say?" Oliver's voice trembled with intensity, his eyes searching Henry's face for any sign of understanding.

Henry quickly shoved Oliver off of him, anger blazing in his eyes. "You just couldn't let me have this one thing, could you?!" Henry's voice reverberated through the room, filled with bitterness and accusation.

"Henry, I-"

Henry cut him off, his voice laced with frustration. "What was the plan here, Oliver? Let me have my moment of triumph, only to rip it away from me so that you could revel in the glory once again? Is that what this is all about?"

Oliver's heart sank at Henry's scathing words. He never intended to cause Henry pain or steal his spotlight. He had hoped for understanding and support, but it seemed that Henry's anger had blinded him to the truth.

"Do you honestly think I would do that to you?" Oliver asked, clearly hurt by the accusation.

"Yes, I do. Ever since we got here, you've done nothing but chase glory and make everything about yourself," Henry spat out, his anger unabated.

"That's not true!" Hermione chimed in, attempting to mediate the escalating argument.

Henry turned to her, his eyes still blazing with pure anger. "Stay out of this, Granger," he snapped, dismissing her presence.

"I never wanted to be in this stupid tournament! What do I even have to gain from it? That stupid little trophy? Do you really think I'm that shallow?" Oliver snapped back, frustration evident in his voice.

Henry completely ignored Oliver's point, his anger pushing him forward. "Tell me how you did it. Come on, tell me!" Henry demanded, shoving Oliver once again.

Oliver's whole demeanor suddenly changed as he looked at Henry with a cold stare. "Don't push me, Henry," he said sharply.

"Henry, calm down!" Isabella interjected, trying to diffuse the tension in the room.

"Typical, you're on his side as always. I always knew you loved him more than me," Henry accused.

"That's not true at all! You need to go and calm yourself down," Isabella insisted.

"Seems about right. I mean, who doesn't love Oliver Montclair, am I right?" Henry muttered under his breath, frustration clear in his voice. "He's always been the golden child, and I've always been the afterthought."

Oliver's face contorted with anger, his voice erupting in resounding fury. "Because you've always been a whiny little bitch who plays the victim card any chance you get, Henry. Maybe if you put some effort into finding your own worth instead of blaming everyone else, you'd get the validation you so desperately seek. And perhaps Dad would have even been proud of you."

Henry's rage boiled over, causing him to suddenly punch Oliver in the face.

Hermione gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth in shock at the sudden act of violence.

"Henry!" Isabella's voice rang out.

Oliver, blood trickling from his lip, stared back at Henry with wide eyes, a mixture of disbelief and hurt etched on his face. As he touched his lip and felt the wetness of the blood, his initial shock transformed into a seething anger.

Oliver retaliated with a thunderous punch of his own, the sheer force propelling Henry's head backward, his jaw absorbing the full impact. Waves of excruciating pain surged through Oliver's hand, each nerve ending screaming in protest.

"Oliver!" Hermione's anguished cry pierced through the air, her voice trembling with fear.

Isabella, recognizing the imminent danger and escalating violence, reacted with lightning speed. She lunged forward, desperately trying to separate the two frenzied brothers. "Both of you, stop!"

But Henry, an embodiment of unbridled wrath, exerted all his might to push past Isabella's attempts, propelled solely by a primal instinct to mirror the pain he harbored within. He bulldozed toward Oliver, his movements fluid with unrestrained fury, fueled by a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. In a whirlwind of brutality, Henry seized Oliver with an iron grip, his hands gripping onto Oliver's torso like a vice. With an explosive surge of power, Henry smashed Oliver's body down upon a nearby table, its frail surface crumbling beneath the sheer force of their collision, sending shards of wood flying in every direction. Both boys crashed to the ground, their bodies entangled in a tangle of limbs, the pain of their encounter resonating through every fiber of their beings.

"Oh my God!" Hermione cried.

Both boys, their determination overpowering the pain coursing through their bodies, managed to rise from the ground, their eyes locked in a steely gaze of intense resentment. Henry, fueled by an unyielding anger, propelled himself forward, his clenched fist hurtling towards Oliver with unbridled force. But Oliver, with lightning-fast reflexes, managed to block Henry's punch, his forearm acting as a shield against the onslaught. In a swift, calculated motion, Oliver retaliated with a vicious uppercut, aiming straight for Henry's jaw. The impact jolted Henry's head backward, his body teetering on the precipice of balance.

Staggering, Henry fought to regain his equilibrium as he stumbled backward, his sense of control temporarily shaken. Oliver seized this momentary weakness, closing in with unyielding determination. In a flurry of punches, Oliver relentlessly attacked, his strikes fueled by a combination of pain, anger, and defiance. But Henry, his resilience rekindled, managed to summon a surge of strength. With lightning speed, he caught Oliver off guard, delivering a powerful right hook that unleashed a devastating blow, connecting with Oliver's jaw. The sheer force behind the punch sent Oliver hurtling backwards, his body crashing to the unforgiving ground.

"That all you've got, big man?" Henry sneered.

Oliver, fueled by an inferno of determination, rose to his feet in a blistering flurry of movement, his eyes locked on Henry with an unwavering intensity. But just as the impending storm of their clash seemed inevitable, a torrential disruption shattered the air. In a whirlwind of desperation, Isabella and Hermione lunged forward, positioning themselves as human shields between the two boys.

"Stop! Stop! You're brothers!" Hermione's voice pierced the chaos, her plea laced with raw emotion as she clung to Oliver's trembling arm.

The room vibrated with a seismic tension, a heavy silence engulfing the air. Henry's lip curled into a derisive sneer, his eyes gleaming with a darkness that mirrored the shattered fragments of their broken bond.

"Not anymore," he spat.

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