Temporal Paradox: The Second Chance of Harry Potter

Chapter 33: Chapter 33: Stand Your Ground



September 17th, 1976

 

"Class dismissed! Everyone get out!"

 

Marlene didn't need to be told twice and quickly snatched her bag from underneath her desk. She turned around and hurried out through the door when she was suddenly joined by the Marauders, Evans, and Florence. There was no sign of her boyfriend, so the group headed straight back to the giant staircase.

 

"Do you know where he might be?" The concern in Potter's voice seemed sincere. No matter how much they laughed, joked, and pranked, those boys had grown incredibly close over the last half a year.

 

"I might be able to find him." Marlene bit her bottom lip. 'That was a rather ambitious statement.' No one knew the castle better than Harry. However, there were a few spots that he had shown her already. "But he will probably want to be left alone."

 

"Well, you do know him best." Black's attempt at a grin failed. None of them were in the mood for jokes right now. The situation was too serious.

 

They entered the Great Hall and Marlene quickly scanned the house tables. However, Harry was nowhere to be found.

 

"Go find him, please," Evans spoke up with a pleading expression on her freckled face. If Marlene didn't know that her relationship with Harry was purely platonic, she might have gotten worried about her being some serious competition: "Remus and I will go to McGonagall's office. Harry was right, multiple prefects have witnessed how the Professor treated him and we will do everything we can to help him."

 

"Thank you." Marlene swallowed. Dating Harry had meant gradually spending more and more time with people like Evans. 'It was a shame really.' In a different world, one where no one cared about the purity of your blood, she and Lily might have become friends. They did have a lot in common after all.

 

The group split with the Gryffindors heading over to their Table, Florence joining some people on the Ravenclaw Table, and Marlene leaving the Great Hall, thinking about how to find her boyfriend. If only she had the Map Harry used so frequently... 'That would make things much easier.'

 

Since it was lunchtime and she knew her boyfriend's appetite, Marlene decided to head to the kitchens and check there first. 'Perhaps Harry simply wanted to eat in solitude?'

 

She walked down the corridor on the main floor, leading to the Hufflepuff common room. Soon, she reached the giant portrait of various fruits and vegetables. A small blush crept up on her cheeks when she raised her arm to tickle the pear in the depicted bowl. Usually, this was where Harry grinned down at her and shared some cheesy or lewd joke.

 

The pear began to squirm, giggle, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Marlene seized it, pulling the door open, before climbing inside. An enormous, high-ceilinged room, as large as the Great Hall above, stretched all the way to the opposite side. She spotted mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end.

 

A single wooden table stood in its center. A very familiar, ebony-haired head looked up, amusement dancing in his green eyes: "You know me too well, love."

 

"Well, I do know my boyfriend couldn't go a single afternoon on an empty stomach." She laughed as she walked over to him and slid into his lap, ignoring the house-elves around them. Harry's hand instantly went to her waist, where he held her secure and steady while she crushed his lips onto his. 'Time to take his mind off things.'

 

She felt his lips twitch in a smile against hers just before they parted. Harry grinned up at her, his hands trailing down to her hips: "First we give the headmaster a show, and now the elves as well? If I did not know any better, I'd say you like being watched."

 

She pouted and fought down a small blush that crept up on her cheeks. Marlene pulled her wand from her waist and performed a simple privacy ward that would ensure that they weren't overheard. The elves did report to the headmaster after all. 'Now they could talk.'

 

Taking his hands, she brought them up to her waist despite fully knowing they will probably start traveling back down in a few seconds anyways: "We talked about that one, Harry. What would you have me do instead? It was too late for us to summon the Room. I also think we'd be in far more trouble if the headmaster caught two of his students disappearing right before him because they entered an invisible room."

 

"Not that I am complaining about the way you solved things." said Harry smirking as he pulled her closer against his hard body: "But we could have probably squeezed together under the cloak."

 

Her hands roamed through his hair, tugging his head, which had momentarily dropped down to her cleavage, back up so he faced her.

 

"Sorry?" He grinned apologetically.

 

"I don't think you are." Marlene teased, pressed one last kiss on his lips before slipping back off his lap to take a seat next to him.

 

"Would Miss like something to eat or drink?" One of the braver house-elves approached her, still avoiding looking at her directly.

 

"Yes, actually." Marlene smiled at the large-eyed creature: "I will take a chicken salad and some pumpkin juice please."

 

"Right away, Miss." The adorable elf gave a deep bow and hurried back to the stoves a second later.

 

"You know I had no choice, don't you?" Harry asked while cutting his steak.

 

"I know," Marlene sighed, her eyes traveling over the pale wood Harry had placed on the table: "No stupid lesson is worth risking the allegiance of that wand."

 

"Took a lot of self-control not to curse that git back to whatever ministry office he came crawling out of." Her boyfriend's eyes flashed and irritation: "How come I always find myself in conflicts with the defense professors during the beginning of term?"

 

Marlene chuckled: "It was quite hilarious to watch actually. I assume it was some silent, colorless spell to manipulate Flint's aim?"

 

He nodded while cutting his potato.

 

"But how did you avoid getting disarmed by the professor? The spell hit you straight on and it was certainly strong enough."

 

"Overpowered sticking charm," Harry revealed the inside of his palm, where patches of skin had been ripped off, revealing raw flesh underneath it.

 

Marlene grimaced in discomfort: "Florence is a bit better with healing charms than me, so we can ask her to take a look at it later. You can't really go to Madam Pomfrey now, can you?"

 

"Not really, no." Harry scowled. "It's truly a shame I lost this really great book on healing magic only recently. That would have helped now."

 

"What happened to it?" Marlene inquired curiously.

 

"It was burned." Harry answered with a grimace: "And I only got to skim through it briefly."

 

"It would be nice to have a pensieve." Marlene mused: "You could rewatch the memory and take notes on what you see on the pages after exiting."

 

Harry stared at her for a few seconds before a large grin broke out on his face. Suddenly Marlene found herself swooped in his strong arms and kissed fiercely.

 

"You're a genius! Of course." Harry cheered and loosened his hold on her: "I am just going to buy myself a Pensieve."

 

"They are kind of expensive, Harry." Marlene snorted while adjusting her blouse after it had been muddled up during his strong hug: "Only the really wealthy families have one. You can probably count them on one hand in Britain."

 

"I will save up. It doesn't have to be right now." He shrugged: "Healer Florence it is then." 

 

He gestured to his wounded hand: "Although I wouldn't mind visiting Flint up in the hospital wing and learning how severe his injuries are."

 

"I definitely heard something break," Marlene remarked. 

 

She noticed that she did not feel sorry at all for the other boy. In fact, she would not have stopped Harry if her boyfriend had continued lashing out on the Slytherin.

 

The same elf that took her order returned with a large bowl of salad and a glass of pumpkin juice. Marlene thanked him and joined Harry in eating lunch.

 

"I don't think you will have to spend a single minute in detention with him." Marlene swallowed down a bite: "As you already mentioned, you have multiple Prefects on your side. Also, no matter how desperately she tries to hide it, the deputy headmistress adores you."

 

She took a sip of juice: "Then there is also the press. If they caught a whiff of how Bletchley treated you, they would call for his immediate removal. Magical Britain worships you right now."

 

Harry grimaced: "I don't care much for magical Britain and I'd rather my name be kept out of the press for some time. I don't want to pull too much attention to myself."

 

Marlene bit her bottom lip: "Do you think Bletchley is a supporter of him?"

 

"I don't know what the git wants but I will find out." Harry sighed: "We know he is a bigot and might sympathize with some of Voldemort's views. However, at this point in time, half of magical Britain fits those criteria."

 

Marlene cringed, knowing fully well how her own family regarded the matter of blood. 'Scratch that thought.' "Let's go up to the room during our free period. You're going to teach me that charm you used against Flint and after that, we will take your mind off things. How does that sound?"

 

He grinned and let his eyes roam over her upper body: "That sounds fantastic to me."

 

'Thank Morgana boys were so easy...'

 

September 18th, 1976

 

'How can a single student cause him that many headaches?' Albus sighed as he let his gaze swap over the people in his office. Horace stood over next to Fawkes porch, chuckling while he fed the golden bird small pieces of pineapple. He looked as good-natured and happy as ever, despite the seriousness of this meeting and the fact that one of his own students had been injured. 'Well, it wouldn't be the first time the man showed blatant favoritism.'

 

Over in the other corner, his charms master read through a small roll of parchment while occasionally shooting annoyed glances at the Defense Professor. Filius and Minerva had been the biggest advocates of not giving Edward Bletchley this platform. 

 

However, similar to Horace, neither of them was unbiased when it came to the matter at hand. In only a few months, Peverell had managed to become one of the favorite students of many of Albus' colleagues. The way the boy managed to work his charm showed a frightening resemblance to another student he could not forget. 

 

Standing next to his desk, Edward Bletchley looked confident and sure of victory. He stood to his full height, trying to take up as much space as possible, with his arms crossed in front of his chest and eyeing the door to the office. In retrospect, Albus wished he had dug a bit deeper during the hiring process over the summer. So far, neither his staff nor the students seemed to be a fan of the man. 

 

Albus shook his head again. This whole affair seemed entirely unnecessary, especially when there was a mystery like none he had seen before hiding right underneath his crooked nose, here in the castle. The headmaster would much rather continue analyzing and exploring the strange events from a few nights ago than listen to Bletchley's accusations. 

 

Of course, he should remain neutral in his position, however so far, he had already heard the accounts of both his deputy and Filius. The situation seemed unfortunate, but not as complex as the defense professor made it out to be. Numerous students had reported that Mr. Flint had indeed sent the first curse, with Mr. Peverell only defending himself. 

 

Sure enough, Peverell was in perfect health, while Mr. Flint was still forced to remain in the hospital wing. However, as much as Albus disliked violence, Peverell's response was appropriate, if slightly overpowered. 'He could have definitely done much worse...' Albus frowned, remembering the boy's fatal duel against Lucius Malfoy

 

Still, the headmaster understood why Bletchley insisted on this meeting and on Mr. Peverell being punished for his actions. According to the reports, the defense professor had failed to disarm Peverell, even when the boy had done nothing to defend himself. The incident undoubtedly wounded the scornful man's pride and led to the escalation of the following conflict.

 

'Talking about escalation...'

 

"Enter, please." Albus forced himself to reply cheerfully when a knock sounded on the door of his office.

 

The deputy headmistress entered, followed by the accused Gryffindor. Albus watched with interest as the boy's eyes took in every little detail in the office, from each of its occupants to every corner. He seemed as confident and composed as ever with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

 

"I have escorted Mr. Peverell to your office, as you requested, headmaster." Minerva flared her nostril, making it quite obvious that she thought this entire procedure a waste of time. Albus silently agreed with her, yet his hand was forced. Bletchley had the right to at least bring the matter to him.

 

"Thank you, Minerva." Albus inclined his head: "Good evening, Mr. Peverell. I apologize for cutting into your valuable free time, yet I assume you might already know what this is about."

 

"Evening, Headmaster, Professors." Harry politely greeted Albus' colleagues, with the exception of Bletchley, whose knuckles clenched in anger: "I indeed have a hunch."

 

"Good to see you, Harry, even if the circumstances seem a bit weighty. But there's nothing to worry about, m'boy." Horace's short legs carried him over, back to the others. 

 

As always, he was ecstatic to see one of his favorite pupils: "I am sure we can settle the matter quickly and you can return to whatever lovely company you have been robbed of in no time."

 

"I hope we do, sir." Peverell said shooting the man a charming smile. 

 

Albus' lips twitched at the references to Mr. Peverell's girlfriend. Yet, the memory of catching them in their precarious position a few days ago made his thoughts drift back to the mystery he encountered that same night. 'Unfortunately, that had to wait a bit longer.'

 

Peverel looked around expectantly: "Well, how may I help you then, professors?"

 

"Professor Bletchley has brought an alleged misconduct to my attention, Mr. Peverell." Albus pulled out the small note he had been given: "Apparently you have deliberately ignored instructions during the lesson, cheated during the practical assignment, and..." He cleared his throat: "... used dangerous spells and techniques to attack another student, leading to said student being severely injured."

 

"Don't forget that he dismissed himself and left my class without my acknowledgement," Bletchley added while glaring at the young man.

 

"Yes... indeed, Edward." Albus sighed: "Well, Mr. Peverell, perhaps you could share your side of the story with us."

 

The defense professor snorted in disapproval but was ignored by the young man: "Of course, sir. The beginning of the lesson actually caught my interest since Professor Bletchley decided that after almost two weeks of classes, we would finally be casting our first spells..."

 

"You don't have your students practice and perform spells in the Defense Class?" Filius intersected, his tone laced with incredulity. His other colleagues voiced their disapproval as well.

 

"I follow a Ministry-approved curriculum." Bletchley snarled through clenched teeth: "The matter in which I teach my class is not your concern, Professor Flitwick."

 

"Anyways..." Peverell continued cheerfully and Albus immediately knew that he had started with this piece of information deliberately: "The professor instructed us to practice the disarming charm on each other. A second-year charm if I am not mistaken. He also insisted on not showing any resistance to being disarmed, for reasons that will ensure the safety of the students."

 

Peverell paused briefly and looked around: "Of course, I only mention this because I regard the general context as quite important in this case."

 

"Yes, that is understandable, of course." Albus nodded, urging him to continue before another professor commented on Bletchley's unusual method of teaching.

 

"The Professor partnered me up with Mr. Flint from Slytherin..." Peverell briefly glanced at Horace: "... who, despite me showing no resistance, failed to disarm me twice."

 

"Because you cheated!" Bletchley's voice boomed through the office and he took a few steps forwards: "I personally know the Flints and I have no doubt that young Rupert has been taught very well by his family. I watched him cast the charm perfectly, yet whatever Peverell did, led him to miss his target."

 

"And what proof do you have for that?" Minerva spoke up, taking a protective stance next to her lion.

 

Bletchley grit his teeth: "The boy was grinning the entire time and exchanged glances with his friends. He also refused to let me analyze his wand to confirm his fraudulent behavior. That should be proof enough for all of us." He looked around challengingly.

 

"Ridiculous!" Minerva flared her nostrils; her lips were reduced to a thin line: "You do not have the authority to analyze a student's wand on the mere basis of believing him to have cheated during an assignment."

 

"Thank you, Minerva." Albus held up his hands to stop Bletchley's undoubtedly heated reply and turned back to the young man: "If you could continue, please, Mr. Peverell."

 

"Of course, sir." The Gryffindor smiled: "To confirm that there was nothing wrong with Mr. Flint's wand, the professor decided to use his own and instructed me to give no resistance to him disarming me. I shall remind you that this was done under the threat of earning detentions with him for the remainder of term."

 

Horace shook his head in disappointment while Filius spoke up: "This is an institution for educating children, Professor Bletchley. Any threats against underage children while simultaneously performing spells on them is a combination that could see you in a lot of trouble with the law. I would have assumed that with your supposed background, you knew this."

 

The man's face was a mask of anger: "I acted fully within my rights as a professor."

 

"Perhaps I should continue. This is where it gets interesting after all." Peverell cleared his throat, pulling the attention back to him. Albus was actually thankful for that, even though he knew the situation might very well escalate during the next few minutes.

 

"The professor's disarming curse did connect with me, however, he failed to disarm me. The spell was not quite strong enough, I assume because Professor Bletchley did not want to risk injuring me, surely it wasn't for any other reason?" 

 

The headmaster could tell that Peverell was hiding a grin by now. 'Or perhaps you have indeed done something to prevent your wand from being taken against your will.' Albus mused while his eyes darted to Peverell's sleeve, where he knew the young man carried the Elder Wand in a holster. 

 

'Very well played, my boy.' Albus nodded: 'Edward was now forced to admit that he did not fully try unless he wanted to look incompetent.'

 

Peverell shot a challenging look at the professor who merely gritted his teeth and flexed his fists: "Of course, I did not put all my power behind the spell when performing them on a child." 

 

He sneered at Peverell: "Still, Peverell did something to stop himself from losing his wand. I am sure it's some illegal anti summoning charm. We could easily get it verified by some acquaintances of mine from the Auror department."

 

"Oh, come off it, already." Minerva finally lost her temper: "Your pride is wounded because you failed to disarm a child and in return, you want to send a full-fledged Auror investigation on him. This is ridiculous Albus." 

 

She swirled around towards the headmaster: "I insist that we speed this up and finally discuss the confrontation between Mr. Peverell and Mr. Flint instead of focusing on this petty quarrel. That is why we have been invited to your office after all."

 

"I agree with Minerva." Horace nodded.

 

"So do I," Filius added.

 

"You are right, of course, Professor." Peverell nodded: "Well, the professor's pride was not the only one's hurt that day. Mr. Flint seemed desperate to use my apparent distraction to summon my wand. Allow me to remind you that he did so despite Professor Bletchley instructing all students to remain in their position and not perform any spells until he said so."

 

"And how did you defend yourself?" Albus inquired curiously.

 

"I heard him shout the incantation and reacted on instinct by batting his spell back at him." Peverell shrugged as if demonstrating that such a technique was the most normal thing for any sixteen-year-old.

 

"And by doing so you threw him across the entire classroom, broke several of his bones, and put him in the hospital wing for presumably several days." Bletchley sneered: "That can hardly be called an appropriate reaction. You could have simply allowed yourself to be disarmed to avoid any conflict. Your wand would have been given back to you anyway."

 

Peverell let out a cold laugh: "I'm starting to seriously doubt that you have ever set a food in the DMLE."

 

He took a step forward and Albus started to feel the magic rolling off of him in small ripples. This was no longer the boy, who played pranks with the Marauders and got caught in a precarious situation with his girlfriend. This was the young man who demonstrated that he had what it takes to kill another human. 

 

"No wizard or witch should ever allow their wands to be taken from them, not in a real duel, not in a classroom and not to avoid a confrontation either. I will not apologize for defending myself against being cursed in the back. This time it was the disarming charm. It could have very well been a cutting hex. Should I also endure that to 'avoid the confrontation?'" Peverell mocked the man.

 

He turned towards Albus' colleagues: "I'm done presenting my side of the story, professors. I know that each of you..." He addressed Minerva and Filius. "... have received reports from some of your Prefects who have witnessed the situation."

 

Bletchley sneered in disgust: "This is ludicrous! We can't take their word for it! One of those Prefects is a wild beast that should not be allowed among any children in the first place. The second one is his girlfriend, of course, she is going to defend him, no matter what. And don't even get me started on the mu..."

 

The Elder Wand was in the boy's palm quicker than Albus would have thought possible. Peverell's eyes glowed like sparkling emeralds. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as the boy's magic flared more wildly than before. 

 

Peverell might not be as powerful, yet Albus had only ever witnessed such a display twice in his life... During his legendary duel against Gellert and when he denied Tom Riddle the position of DADA professor.

 

"You should choose your next word very carefully, sir." The young man whispered, his wand trained at the professor.

 

"That is enough, Mr. Peverell." Minerva stepped in between them: "I cannot allow you to threaten another member of staff. Put away your wand or you will see yourself in detention with me instead."

 

A sense of longing overcame Albus as he watched the boy comply and flick the Elder Wand back into his sleeve: "I apologize, professor." Peverell's eyes remained cold and hard.

 

"And I will remind you, Edward, that Ms. McKinnon and Ms. Evans are among the two brightest students this castle has ever produced, both with a spotless record!" The deputy addressed the other man.

 

'Perhaps not that spotless anymore. At least in the case of Ms. McKinnon', Dumbledore chuckled but did not dare interrupt his deputy.

 

Slughorn cleared his throat: "I agree with Minerva and want to add that even some of my Slytherins did not deny that Mr. Flint was the one to cast the first spell. I don't like watching one of my students being injured, but in this case, Rupert has brought it upon himself. I think the matter is quite obvious, Albus..." He turned to the headmaster expectantly.

 

"Indeed, it is." Dumbledore stood up from his chair: "Mr. Peverell, you will not serve any detentions for defending yourself, however, I implore you to tamper your response should an event like this repeat itself."

 

Albus turned to address the defense professor: "Edward, you have overstepped your authority as a teacher and I urge you to contemplate your actions. In addition, I do not wish for this unfortunate incident to burden your relations with any student. Please treat all of your students, including Mr. Peverell, without any bias during your next classes."

 

The man did not bother replying and instead headed towards the door, past a thrilling Fawkes, who looked as if he had really enjoyed finally witnessing some drama and action in the usually quiet office. Bletchley shot one last murderous glance at Peverell before slamming the door shut. They heard him cursing on his way down to the gargoyle.

 

"Professor Munrose is dearly missed already," Peverell commented absently, earning himself a snort from the remaining occupants of the room, even from Minerva, who failed to hide it.

 

"You do have quite the temper, Harry, m'boy." Horace chuckled good-naturedly: "It almost looked like your eyes were glowing back then."

 

Peverell blinked a few times and took a deep breath: "I apologize, sir. I simply detest the word Professor Bletchley was about to use."

 

"Not many purebloods would share the sentiment you showed there, Harry." Albus smiled, hoping for a chance that the boy might reveal more about himself.

 

"If that will be all, headmaster?" As expected, the boy ignored the comment and looked up expectantly.

 

"Of course, my boy." Albus nodded, swallowing his disappointment: "I trust you will find your way back to your dorm."

 

"Good night, professors." The young man glanced over each Head of House and turned to leave.

 

He watched as Peverell halted momentarily at the door, seemingly contemplating about saying something: "You are correct, sir. Not many purebloods will agree with that sentiment. But who is to say I am a pureblood myself? My mother was a muggle-born..." His eyes spoke of pain and loss, yet also unmistakable pride: "... and she was the embodiment of what any witch could ever hope to be."

 

Second floor, Hogwarts

 

"So you and the Peverell bloke, huh?"

 

Marlene groaned and forced herself to remain calm and composed. Once again, she cursed this year's Headgirl, who had put together the schedule and pairings for the Prefect patrols. 'How come she was matched with the absolutely worst possible people?'

 

"You will have to be more specific than that, Montgomery." She responded through clenched teeth.

 

The seventh-year pushed a brown lock from his forehead and shot her a confident grin: "I'm just saying, you know..."

 

"I'm afraid I don't know."

 

"Well, usually being the new guy and all the attention and all that gets to a bloke's head." Michael Montgomery shrugged casually: "They are not exactly known for having the most stable relationships... I was surprised that you two are still dating after summer."

 

Marlene wanted to groan: "I don't think my private life is any of your business whatsoever."

 

"Of course, it's not." The boy held up his hands: "I'm just saying, being a bloke myself I know what they think like..."

 

"I didn't ask for dating advice from you, so could you please drop it?" Marlene took a left and headed down the second-floor corridor towards the abandoned northern part of the castle.

 

"And Peverell did have kind of a flirty history before you two became official last term," Montgomery remarked. The boy was either deaf or had extremely bad hearing: "I mean half the school saw him snogging Narcissa Black. Who knows who else has been on his list already?"

 

"They didn't snog! She kissed him out of the blue for perhaps two seconds!" Marlene finally snapped at the older boy. The topic was still a bit sensitive for her and she did not like being reminded about it.

 

"Woah, Woah." He took a step back: "I am on your side here, okay. I understand that it's not nice to be reminded about those things. All I'm saying is that there might be safer options for you, from families of equal status."

 

'So this is what this is about, huh.' Of course, she should have known. A week ago, a Hufflepuff seventh year was trying to get flirty with her during their patrol. Two days later it was a fifth year from Slytherin and now someone from her own house... 'This had to stop.'

 

She paused before a corner and glared at the boy. Thanks to her height they were almost on eye level: "Listen up Montgomery because I'm only going to say this once. I'm very happy with my Harry and I'm not interested in anyone else. If you try once more to get in between us I will hex you where it hurts the most."

 

The boy gulped heavily and bobbed his head rapidly up and down.

 

"Very good." Marlene nodded satisfied: "Now let's finish this patrol so that I can finally spend some time with my boyfriend and you can annoy some girl that is naive enough to listen to the dragon dung that escapes that hole you call a mouth."

 

She did not bother waiting for his response and continued walking into the dimly lit corridor. One of the permanently burning torches on the wall must have gotten extinguished by a gust of wind so Marlene paused briefly and flicked her wand at it. 'That's much better.'

 

She turned back around and took a step forward only to run into Montgomery, who was standing right in the middle of the corridor as if he was petrified.

 

"Damn it, Montgomery, what is your problem?!" Marlene groaned and rubbed her head.

 

The boy did not reply and instead pointed at the wall in front of him with eyes widened in shock and terror. Marlene spun around and finally saw for herself why the boy was unable to speak. 

 

With the newly lit torch, she was able to make out a series of words drawn on the blank wall in crimson red color.

 

The Heir of Slytherin has returned,

The cleansing of Hogwarts has begun.

Enemies of the heir, 

Beware…

 

The sight below it was one she would probably never forget in her entire life...


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