Chapter 66: Deadly Danger
Something was wrong.
Why did this place feel… different?
Had someone else been here?
Fawley scanned the room warily, but no matter how carefully he looked, he couldn't find a single trace of intrusion.
Yet while Fawley was busy surveying his surroundings, Russell noticed something shocking.
Fawley's appearance was changing.
The golden hair darkened from the tips upward, gradually turning brown. His facial features warped and thickened, his body stretched taller and broader.
Russell recognized it instantly.
Polyjuice Potion.
So that was it.
Did Professor Corvey send him here because he'd uncovered this man's scheme—and intended to share the credit with Russell?
Or worse…
Russell shut down that thought immediately. He remembered Corvey's patience, his guidance, the genuine effort he'd put into teaching him. No—that couldn't be it.
"Dammit… it's worn off."
Fawley—no, the man impersonating him—grew agitated.
"I'm out of Polyjuice. We were supposed to meet here—so where the hell is everyone?"
He no longer resembled Fawley at all. Instead, he had become a tall, middle-aged man with deep-set eyes, a sharp nose, thin lips, and a faint scar running across the bridge of his nose.
He looked ruthlessly cruel.
The impostor paced the room restlessly. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted half a human hand protruding from the shadows.
His heart jolted—but he didn't react right away.
He made a few more turns around the room, confirming he hadn't imagined it. A murderous glint flashed in his eyes.
So you're already here? Planning to double-cross me?
Fine. I invented double-crossing.
In one swift motion, he drew his wand and pointed it toward the exposed hand.
"Crucio."
Although the man masked it well, Russell noticed his eyes flick unnaturally for just a split second. Alarm bells rang instantly.
Russell's hand was already moving for his wand.
A beam of scarlet light tore through the air straight toward him.
No time to think.
Russell threw himself into a roll, narrowly dodging the Cruciatus Curse as it blasted past.
A Dark Wizard—one rotten to the core.
Only someone truly steeped in darkness would open a fight with an Unforgivable Curse.
Russell could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Of course he was nervous.
The closest thing he'd had to real combat before this was dealing with that old witch at the Addams estate—and even then, victory had come thanks to a potion, not raw skill.
No room for hesitation now.
"Confringo!"
Russell fired a Knockback Jinx without a second thought.
Just as Harry relied on the Disarming Charm, Blasting Curse had become Russell's instinctive go-to spell.
A trace of disdain flashed through the fake Fawley's eyes.
With a casual flick of his wand before his chest, a transparent barrier instantly enveloped his entire body.
"Protego Totalum."
Russell's Blasting Curse struck the shield and rebounded at once, smashing into nearby wooden furniture and reducing it to splinters.
Russell cursed inwardly. Since when does everyone know the Shield Charm? Wasn't it said that even among Aurors, only a few could cast it properly?
If anything, this only strengthened his resolve to master the spell himself.
Now fully revealed, Russell's figure caused realization to dawn on the impostor's face.
"Russell Fythorne… so it's you."
A vicious grin spread across his face.
"I'm thrilled—truly. Looks like I finally get to repay that old debt."
"A filthy Mudblood who dared humiliate me like that…"
Confident behind his Shield Charm, the impostor looked utterly relaxed. In his eyes, a first-year student like Russell had no chance of breaking through his defense.
Russell didn't bother arguing.
If ordinary spells wouldn't work, then he'd change tactics.
He raised his wand and pointed it toward the second floor.
"Diffindo!"
Seeing Russell ignore him somehow snapped something inside the imposter. The smug control vanished, replaced by fury, and Cruciatus Curses began raining down wildly.
Russell was forced to dodge frantically between shattered furniture, seizing brief openings to cast Diffindo again—always at the same spot.
"What's the point of this?" the impostor sneered.
"I can see right through you. Even if you try dropping junk on me, you won't scratch my Shield Charm."
"Oh? Don't be so sure."
By now, the second-floor walkway was visibly trembling. The moment was ripe.
Russell stopped dodging. Watching for a gap between attacks, he thrust his wand upward.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
A massive force surged upward. Russell's face flushed red as he exerted everything he had—ripping the entire walkway free and hurling it straight down.
Dust exploded into the air. With a deafening crash, the impostor vanished beneath the rubble.
"Give up already…" the man's voice rasped from below.
But the moment he staggered upright, he saw it—
A cylindrical object hurtling directly toward his face, followed by a thin trail of flame.
Pugsley's gift.
It had finally proven its worth.
"What the—"
Too late.
The flame overtook the explosive.
A blinding flash erupted, followed by a thunderous boom. Glass shattered violently as a devastating shockwave twisted his body and hurled it into the wall, leaving behind a massive smear of blood.
Russell had already sprinted in the opposite direction the instant he threw it.
Even so, his head rang violently. It took him a while before the world slowed back down.
He stood up, brushed dust from his clothes, and cautiously looked back.
After seeing the impostor's condition, Russell finally relaxed.
Whether it was because the Shield Charm had absorbed some of the blast—or because Pugsley's homemade explosive lacked killing power—was hard to say.
But the latter seemed more likely.
The fake Fawley was barely alive now. His body was mangled beyond recognition, his wand nowhere to be seen—probably destroyed in the explosion.
Russell took two careful steps forward, keeping his distance. A dying Dark Wizard could still lash out.
Caution never hurt.
The man's throat rattled like a broken bellows. His chest heaved violently as bloodshot eyes locked onto Russell, lips trembling as if cursing him.
Calling him dishonorable. Complaining about "cheap tactics."
If it worked, it worked.
Russell had never been sentimental about methods.
Kid, times have changed.
Just as Russell prepared to finish things—just to be safe—a familiar voice spoke from behind him.
"Fythorne… you really did give me quite the surprise."
---