Harry felt as though his head were about to split apart.
Only seconds earlier, Malfoy had stood across from him and delivered those mocking words in a strange voice.
“Your dancing was pathetic.
You looked like a troll trying to perform ballet.” Normally, Harry would have dismissed it as another insult from Malfoy.
He might have responded with a sharp remark or ignored him altogether.
This time was different.
The moment Malfoy’s words reached him, Harry felt something tighten around his heart.
A wave of unnatural rage surged through his chest and rushed into his head.
Sharp pain followed it and pierced his thoughts like needles driven into his soul.
The Slytherins below the stage burst into laughter.
Harry’s scar suddenly burned.
The pain seemed to resonate with something nearby.
He raised his head and looked past Malfoy.
Beyond the boy’s shoulder, Harry caught sight of fiery red hair and a pair of brown eyes.
Ginny Weasley stood near the edge of the crowd.
She was pressed into a shadowed corner beneath the stage.
A worn black diary rested in her hands as she stared directly at Harry.
A strange smile appeared on her young face.
It vanished almost at once when a large Hufflepuff student moved between them.
The pain inside Harry’s scar faded, but the anger remained.
It burned through him like a raging fire.
A hoarse whisper drifted through his mind.
Follow your heart.
Release your power.
Harry met Malfoy’s gray eyes.
“Shut up.” The words left his mouth with a cold force.
Something changed as he spoke.
His voice became more than sound and struck Malfoy through an invisible magical connection.
Boom!
Dark green flames erupted across Malfoy’s body.
“Ah!” His wand fell from his hand.
Malfoy screamed and desperately slapped at the unnatural fire covering his robes.
The flames behaved as though they were alive.
They resisted every attempt to extinguish them and continued spreading toward his shoulders.
“Draco!” Snape leaped onto the stage.
“Aguamenti!” A powerful stream of water struck Malfoy and soaked him from head to toe.
The water hissed when it touched the flames.
Steam filled the air and took on an eerie green color.
Instead of weakening, the fire burned even more fiercely.
Snape’s expression darkened.
He glanced toward Harry before pointing his wand at Malfoy.
“[Cure Wounds].” White divine light surrounded the boy.
The dark green flames flickered several times before slowly fading.
A thin trail of black smoke rose from Malfoy’s damaged robes.
He collapsed onto the stage.
Most of his expensive uniform had been burned away.
His exposed skin remained unharmed, though it had turned red from the heat.
“Dark magic!” Malfoy scrambled to his feet with Snape’s help and pointed a trembling finger at Harry.
“Potter used dark magic!” Harry froze.
The rage inside him faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.
Exhaustion and confusion replaced it.
He looked down at his hands.
“I didn’t mean to.” Uneasy whispers spread through the students around the platform.
Leon stepped onto the stage and placed one hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry.
That was not dark magic.” Harry looked up at him.
“You simply lost control of your power for a moment.” Leon turned toward the crowd and clapped his hands.
“That concludes the Duel Club for tonight.
Prefects will escort their houses back to their common rooms.
Move calmly and remain with your groups.” The students began moving toward the doors.
Almost everyone glanced back at Harry before leaving the Great Hall.
Some appeared frightened while others looked curious.
Ron and Hermione guided Harry into the crowd.
“Good grief, Harry,” Ron whispered.
His voice still trembled.
“How did you do that?
That green fire was brilliant, but it was terrifying.
You nearly roasted Malfoy alive.” “I don’t know.” Harry shook his head.
“I was just angry.
Really angry.” He looked back toward the corner where Ginny had been standing.
It was empty.
Later that night, the Gryffindor boys’ dormitory was silent.
Cold wind and snow struck the windows while Ron and Neville slept beneath their blankets.
Their steady breathing filled the room.
Harry remained awake.
He stared at the crimson curtains surrounding his four-poster bed and replayed the duel in his mind.
The rage had felt unnatural.
It had created an urge to tear apart everything around him.
Then there was Ginny.
Harry could still picture her in the crowd with the black diary held against her chest.
He remembered the strange smile on her face but could not decide whether it had been real or a trick caused by the pain in his scar.
The voice also troubled him.
Follow your heart.
This was not the first time Harry had heard a voice that no one else seemed able to hear.
It had happened before inside Professor Cromwell’s office.
Since then, strange events had continued to surround him.
During the Quidditch match, he had produced a dark green beam instead of [Magic Missile].
Tonight, he had summoned unnatural fire without understanding how.
His Adventurer’s Record also listed another unusual ability.
[Parselmouth] Harry remembered what Ron and Hermione had said after he told them about it.
“Talking to snakes isn’t a normal ability, Harry,” Ron had warned.
Hermione had explained that Parseltongue was one of Salazar Slytherin’s most famous gifts.
It was also the reason Slytherin House used a serpent as its symbol.
She had tried to reassure him afterward.
“Slytherin lived more than a thousand years ago.
It would be almost impossible to prove whether you were one of his distant descendants.” Harry raised his right hand and studied it in the pale moonlight.
He remembered his first Sorting Ceremony.
The Sorting Hat had considered placing him in Slytherin.
Could he truly be descended from Salazar Slytherin?
Harry knew very little about the Potter family or his father’s ancestry.
“Professor Cromwell.” He remembered Leon’s calm expression during the Duel Club.
The professor had not appeared shocked by the green flames.
Instead, he had immediately reassured Harry.
Harry rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.
I’ll visit him first thing tomorrow morning.
If anyone understood what was happening, it would be Professor Cromwell.
Leon sat alone behind the desk in his office.
His brow remained furrowed as he considered the spell Harry had used.
There was no possibility of mistaking it.
[Hellish Rebuke] The first-circle Warlock spell allowed the caster to retaliate against an attacker with supernatural flame.
Leon was now almost certain that Harry possessed the instincts of a Sorcerer while also drawing power from a Warlock pact.
Since he had never received proper instruction, he could not reliably control the second source of magic.
That would have to change.
Leon had deliberately removed the Warlock class from his lessons.
A Warlock gained power through a pact with a supernatural patron.
Teaching such a path to children carried obvious risks.
Some of the more ambitious Slytherins might seek contracts with fiends or other dangerous beings in exchange for power.
Harry had already entered that path without understanding it.
Ignoring the problem would only make it worse.
The safest option was to teach him how to recognize and control the power before it took control of him.
Leon picked up his quill and pulled a clean sheet of parchment toward him.
He reviewed everything he knew about Warlocks before writing the title across the top.
The Warlock: 500 = +1 Chapter] [Review Goal: 10 = +1 Chapter]