Wizards Go Muggle

Chapter Twenty

Chapter 20

A silvery blue lightning-like flare burst out of Harry's wand, lighting up the now darkened room. Since the wizard's stopped training, the lack of magical flashes had created a cavern-like atmosphere. Time slowed down as the sparks traveled across the room towards Amber's direction, straight towards her chest.

Harry's lips twitched into a smile at the thought of the snobby cheerleader's defeated face. The flash of light disappeared, the room turning near black again. He looked at where Amber had stood, expecting to see her body lying on the ground. To his surprise she was standing.

The blow had missed her by about three inches. She dodged it.

This would've been one of those moments where she would've had every right to boast, but even though she dodged the spell, her face read pure panic.
Nevertheless, the wizards were speechless.

"Not bad for a muggle, huh?" she managed, her voice quivering slightly.

Harry shook his head, amazed. "Not bad indeed...think you can dodge another?"

"Maybe," Amber said. "Care to make a bet?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What do you want now?"

Amber's shifted her feet nervously. Whatever it was she wanted, Harry knew he wouldn't like it.

"If I dodge the next five spells..." She stopped. Her eyes begged Harry to say yes before she even asked.

"You have to let me fight in the battle against the witch hunters."

"Are you fuc—" he stopped himself. Nothing good came from shouting at her. All she ever did was yell louder. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

"Do you have a death wish?" Harry asked, smiling through clenched teeth. Surely he looked more terrifying with his deathly calmness than he did yelling at her.

Amber didn't respond in fear of making Harry any angrier. She only glared at the ground as Harry looked to the group for backup. None came. Most all the members where either too in shock by Amber's request, or—like Amber—afraid to make Harry angrier.

Neville was the sole exception. "You should let her fight," he told Harry. "You can't protect all of us, Harry. Not from You-Know-Who, or the witch hunters." His voice wasn't defiant, only pessimistically grave.

Those last words hit him like a low blow to the stomach. The whole reason he created the D.A was to protect them. However, Harry's concerns weren't well founded. It wasn't only his friends he cared about, it was his own sanity.
The young teen was unsure he could bear another death as a result of his existence. Cedric had been the last straw.

Harry's voice was devoid of anger when he replied. "If she dies, whose fault do you think it'll be?"

"Not yours," Hermione said, squeezing his shoulder. The sincerity in her tone almost made him believe it.

Harry clenched his fists and looked at Amber. "Fine. Die, get kidnapped. Do whatever you want. Don't expect my help," he hissed.

If she was hurt, she didn't show it. Amber only nodded.

"What are you staring at?" Harry growled. "Go back to training."

"Sir, yes sir," Dean and Seamus said in unison.

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed Amber's hand again, not speaking to her for the rest of the lesson.

When it ended, Harry refused to look at her and said. "The festival tomorrow, you're going. Meet us in the morning."