Harry potter: I am the king of United Kingdom

Arthur woke early, the golden sunlight streaming through the Gryffindor dormitory windows. As he dressed, his mind was already on the day ahead. Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell had become one of his favourite classes, and he was eager to practice the techniques they were learning.

Down in the Great Hall, Daphne Greengrass was waiting for him, seated at the Slytherin table. She waved him over, ignoring the curious glances from her housemates. Arthur made his way to her with a bemused smile.

"Good morning, Daphne," he said, sliding into the seat beside her.

"Morning," she replied cheerfully, pouring him a cup of tea. "I hope you're ready for class. Quirrell said something about duelling techniques today."

Arthur chuckled. "Let's hope he doesn't faint mid-lesson. He looked ready to keel over last time."

The two spent the morning together, sharing anecdotes and discussing their studies. Daphne's sharp wit and dry humour never failed to amuse Arthur, while her determination to master every spell impressed him.

A Dangerous Proposition

After lunch, as the students scattered to their respective classes, Daphne caught up with Arthur in the corridor.

"Arthur, I've been thinking," she began, her tone conspiratorial.

"That sounds dangerous," he teased, earning a playful shove.

"Very funny. I heard a rumour that some students saw strange creatures near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Don't you think we should check it out?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You mean the same Forbidden Forest where countless dangerous creatures roam? The one explicitly off-limits?"

"Yes, that one," she replied, undeterred. "Come on, Arthur. You're not afraid, are you?"

"It's not fear," he said, folding his arms. "It's common sense. Quirrell just gave a lecture on vampires—what if they're lurking out there?"

"All the more reason to go," Daphne countered. "If there are vampires, shouldn't we make sure they're not a threat to the school?"

Arthur sighed. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"Only when I'm right," she quipped, her emerald eyes gleaming.

Despite his better judgment, Arthur agreed. "Fine. But if this goes wrong, I'm blaming you."

Into the Shadows

As dusk fell, Arthur and Daphne slipped out of the castle, their wands at the ready. The Forbidden Forest loomed ahead, its dark canopy casting eerie shadows.

"Stay close," Arthur said, his voice low.

"Of course," Daphne replied, though her tone betrayed her excitement.

They ventured deeper, the forest growing darker and more oppressive with each step. The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth, and every rustle of leaves set them on edge.

"See anything yet?" Daphne whispered.

Arthur shook his head. "Just trees and shadows. Let's not push our luck."

As they turned to leave, a sudden noise stopped them in their tracks. From the darkness, pale figures emerged—gaunt and menacing, their crimson eyes gleaming.

"Vampires," Arthur muttered, his grip tightening on his wand.

The Battle

The vampires wasted no time, lunging toward them with terrifying speed. Arthur raised his hand, casting a powerful Ventus Maxima without the aid of a wand. The blast of wind knocked the closest vampire off its feet.

Daphne was equally quick, firing a series of stunning spells. Her movements were precise, her spells landing with deadly accuracy.

"They're not backing down!" she shouted, dodging an attack.

"Keep fighting!" Arthur replied, summoning a protective barrier around them.

One vampire broke through their defenses, grabbing Daphne by the arm. Before Arthur could intervene, it sank its fangs into her shoulder.

Daphne cried out in pain, and Arthur's vision blurred with rage. His magic surged uncontrollably, the air around him crackling with power.

"Get away from her!" he roared, unleashing a storm of wind and energy. The vampires were thrown back, their bodies disintegrating under the force of his magic. 

Arthur didn't stop running, his heart pounding as he carried Daphne through the dark expanse of the Forbidden Forest. The shadows seemed alive, twisting and writhing around him. Each step felt heavier, as if the forest itself were conspiring to hold him back. Daphne's pale face, resting against his shoulder, spurred him on.

"You'll be fine, Daphne," he whispered, more to himself than her. "Just stay with me."

Her breathing was shallow, and the bite on her shoulder oozed an unnatural, darkened blood. Arthur's magic pulsed erratically, responding to his fear and anger.

The trees thinned slightly, revealing a moonlit path ahead. Relief began to seep into Arthur's chest when a cold, sinister voice cut through the silence.

"Leaving so soon, young Pendragon?"

Arthur skidded to a halt, nearly losing his grip on Daphne. A figure stepped out from the shadows, cloaked in dark robes. The air around them felt colder, heavier, as if reality itself recoiled at their presence.

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him. He tightened his grip on his wandless magic, ready to strike.

The figure chuckled—a low, bone-chilling sound. "A question for another time, boy. For now, let us see how strong the blood of Pendragon truly is."

Arthur's magic flared instinctively, casting a shield around himself and Daphne. The figure raised a wand, its tip glowing an ominous green.

"I won't let you hurt her!" Arthur shouted, raw power crackling in the air around him.

"Such bravery," the figure sneered. "Let's test it."

A Moment of Desperation

Arthur placed Daphne gently behind him, her unconscious form shielded by his barrier. Summoning every ounce of his strength, he unleashed a torrent of wind, the force uprooting nearby trees and scattering debris.

The figure barely flinched, deflecting the attack with a flick of their wand. "Impressive. But raw power without control is meaningless."

They countered with a dark spell, tendrils of shadow snaking toward Arthur. He dodged, retaliating with a burst of fire that illuminated the forest. The figure moved with unnerving precision, evading the flames effortlessly.

Arthur's breathing grew laboured. His magic was strong but chaotic, and the figure's calm, calculated attacks kept him on the defensive.

A Fateful Decision

The figure advanced, their wand aimed directly at Arthur. "You fight well for someone so young. But this is where your story ends."

Arthur's mind raced. He couldn't defeat this opponent—not here, not like this. His only priority was Daphne's safety. Gathering his remaining energy, he created a powerful gust of wind, lifting Daphne's unconscious form and propelling her toward the edge of the forest.

"Take her!" he shouted to the wind itself, willing it to carry her to safety.

The figure laughed coldly. "How noble. A shame it will cost you your life."

They raised their wand, the words echoing through the forest like a death knell.

"Avada Kedavra."

A jet of green light erupted from the wand, hurtling toward Arthur. He raised his hands, magic surging instinctively in an attempt to block the spell.