That One October {T.M.R}

𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

The wind blew with ferocity, shaking the branches of trees and sending their leaves flying. The forest was otherwise still, all except for the father and daughter that stood in it.

Vivian focused as hard as she could as she fought to protect her thoughts and memories.

And, it proved to be good enough, for she felt an immense relief once Anders retreated from her mind.

"Bra gjort," He praised, "Du har forbedret deg siden sist jul."

("Well done," "You have improved since last Christmas.")

She smiled at that, happy he was pleased.

But, that didn't last long.

In an instant, his face grew dark and he turned his fingers, a roaring fire erupting from them that tumbled her way.

Her head ached from the Occlumency session but she paid it no attention; she couldn't, not if she wanted to avoid her father having to heal her.

The flames came so close Vivian was able to feel their heat on her face. She wondered for a moment if they were going to burn her.

They didn't.

She conjured a wave of water that successfully put them out, causing a sizzling sound to fill the air.

Anders sent another harmful spell her way, then another, and another, and several more. He was wildly talented, and even in the middle of a duel, his daughter couldn't help but admire his abilities.

The girl moved quickly and felt her magic surge through her body like a rushing river. She was grateful to be using her hands rather than her wand, as she felt more in control. Another perk was that she could perform magic anywhere at any time, as long as it was wandless. She was an underage witch, so the same couldn't be done with her wand.

The man summoned a murder of crows that cawed at her loudly. Given the chance, they would've surrounded her and pecked until there was nothing to peck at.

She created a protection shield and encased herself in it, cringing at the way the birds' bodies exploded as they hit it.

Her triceps burned with the effort but she dug her heels into the dirt and pushed forward. She was determined to win, determined to prove herself worthy, and make her father truly proud.

Finally, the crows stopped coming. However, a new spell took their place.

Vivian felt her already quickened heart rate speed up even more as the fear set in. This was the exact spell that offered her many bad memories.

Thin, bright strips of light flew toward her at a startling speed. To an uneducated eye, perhaps the one of a muggle, they looked to be only lights. But, she knew better, for they were more like blades.

She didn't lift her hands quickly enough and her arm was cut, making her cry out.

The panic made her not think her next move through, and so the first instinct she had was to send the blades up and into the sky.

And so she did.

The brightness faded and she watched the lights disappear into nothing.

But, although the blades were gone, Vivian faced another problem: the consequences of taking her eyes off her opponent.

She flew backward and hit the ground hard. The impact sent a shocking pain throughout her body.

She wheezed and struggled to inhale as her arm began to bleed heavily. It wasn't a life-threatening wound but it definitely needed to be closed.