Chapter 29 - Chapter 29: Duel Request.

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-0-

(General P.O.V)

The wind had gone still.

The firebird—brilliant and still smoldering with bluish light—perched silently on Loth's glowing shoulder.

Across from him, Lucius Malfoy lay on the ground, trembling, his bloodied hands twitching where they had scraped against the earth in desperation.

Feeling a tug on his hand, the Anodite gazed down at Luna. While anyone normal would be wary of touching a being made of pure mystic energy, the Witch was unafraid, her gaze fixed unflinchingly on Lucius.

"Watch him," she said softly, voice cold as frost.

Loth gave a single nod, his radiant, form holding steady as Luna moved toward his fallen body.

She knelt beside it, her fingers reaching for the bracelet wrapped around the wrist of his lifeless corpse.

The enchanted band shimmered, humming faintly with magic. Luna handled it with reverence, gently sliding it off.

Her hand softly brushed Loth's cheek, apologetically. "Sorry, I promise to return it soon big bro."

The moment it left Loth's wrist, light bent and curled around it like a cocoon—then, with a quiet snap, it shifted form. A wand emerged, slender and slightly shaped like a sceptre, gleaming with polished brown wood.

Loth stared, blinking in disbelief. He hadn't known.

"You gave me your wand…" he murmured aloud, more to himself than to her. The wand's core also felt strange to his energy senses. Compared to a Death Eaters' that could channel only Wizard Magic, Luna's wand was blessed with a divine aura. Thalia's essence itself.

Luna turned toward him, the wand now resting naturally in her hand.

"I trust you more than anyone," she said simply.

Her gaze returned to Lucius, and something inside her changed—her expression hardened.

With a soft swish and flick of her wand, Luna's pale hair rose in the air unnaturally, flowing like silk underwater.

From within it, shadowy forms began to emerge—spirits, draped in darkness, as if plucked from old stories and stitched together by sorrow and ancient magic.

This wasn't Loth's first encounter with the strange magic creatures and spirits that favored Luna and yet...these ones were anything but benevolent.

They swirled in the air, coiling and hissing, until they locked on to Lucius.

His eyes widened with dread. "W-what is that?!"

The spirits didn't answer. With a piercing wail, they lunged, wrapping themselves around him like a living nightmare. His limbs flailed as they began to drag him backward, pulled toward some invisible, howling abyss.

"They're going home," Luna said calmly to Loth. "The shadow spirits. It's where he belongs now. A place without light or the sun. Where no one, Wizard or God would dare venture to save him."

"No! Mercy! Mer-"

Lucius's screams vanished as the spirits swallowed him whole. Silence fell in their wake—thick and heavy.

"That was for my father."

Loth watched Luna, stunned not by her power, but by how natural she seemed with it. "You just…control spirits like that?"

He knew she had an affinity, but the way they obeyed her without hesitation was something else.

She blinked at him, almost amused. "They listen when I whisper. I think they like you too, even if they're shy."

Of course they do.

She turned back to him. "So… what do we do about you?" she asked, gesturing gently to his body on the ground. "Are you going to leave it lying around, or…?"

Before Loth could respond, a new voice entered the air—refined and aged.

"Perhaps… we may be of some assistance."

Loth turned towards what was undeniably the most Powerful aura he'd ever sensed in a mortal, just in time to see soft ripples shimmering in the air beside an old white haired wizard.

More wizards apparated into view, their wands raised and expressions alert. The wind stirred their robes as they took in the scene.

Then they saw him.

The glowing being.

And one by one, the Order of the Phoenix knelt.

"Who are you?" Loth asked, power carried through his voice.

"Headmaster! Professor McGonagall!" Luna called out, turning to Loth. "I know them!"

"May we stand in your presence, mighty one?"

At their center, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts asked.

Loth immediately understood the problem. His anodite energy was putting pressure on their magic cores.

"Do as you wish." He replied, retracting most of his power. The Fiendbird on his shoulder ruffled it's feathers in hostility, ready to immolate anyone that wished harm upon its new master.

"Settle down." Loth told it, scratching the spot under its beak.

With a strange look aimed at the firebird, Dumbledore stood tall, his silver beard like a banner of wisdom, half-moon spectacles gleaming.

Moody, McGonagall, Kingsley, and others followed close behind.

Dumbledore stepped forward first. His eyes locked with Loth's—steady, distant and knowing.

"You are not what I expected." he said. "But you are, perhaps, what miss Lovegood needed."

He turned slightly. "Come. We should talk in safety."

-0-

They apparated to Hogwarts.

Within moments, Loth and Luna stood inside Dumbledore's office. His corpse had been taken to the school's Hospital wing for the Healers to see what they could do. Loth didn't hold out any hope and instead focused on the immediate issues.

The ancient portraits lining the walls stirred in hushed whispers.

Luna stood close to Loth, her wand held gently in her hand.

Dumbledore turned to her. "Miss Lovegood, if you're able… tell us what happened."

Luna did not hesitate.

With her signature dreamy cadence, she spoke of her father's work, the list of names, and how Lucius Malfoy had come for them. Of the fire and the escape. Of the strange summer refuge she found at Camp Half-Blood.

She smiled softly when she mentioned the Camp, the people there, and her friends.

"Percy is like Harry," she said thoughtfully. "Always charging in. And Loth…" she looked up at him, "is like a much scruffier Cedric Diggory—if Cedric had a wolf made of pink fire and a habit of being impossible to kill."

The room listened in silence.

When she finished, Dumbledore gave her a steady nod. "You are braver than most wizards and witches I've known, Luna."

Moody grunted. "If Lucius Malfoy was involved, we'll have to tread carefully. The Malfoys are pure bloods with deep ties in the Ministry."

Snape crossed his arms, tone cool. "If Miss Lovegood has the list her father compiled, the Ministry would be forced to act."

"It won't work," Loth said with a head shake, his energy dimming slightly to ease their discomfort. He was practically the brightest in the room.

Snape turned, eyebrow raised. "No? And why not?"

"Because your system's too broken," Loth replied flatly. "Corruption, politics, prejudice—it'll get buried. Denied. Called fake. I've seen enough to know."

Snape frowned. "Then what do you suggest?"

Loth looked at Luna. "We do what her father wanted. Release the list publicly. All of it. Make sure it spreads so fast and so wide the Ministry can't sweep it under the rug."

Kingsley, quiet until now, nodded slowly. "Risky. But it might work."

He turned to Luna. "Do you have the list?"

Luna giggled, lifted her wand, and tapped the side of her head. "I hid it where no one would dare look. In a maze inside my mind—guarded by grey wisps."

The room fell silent.

Even Snape blanched slightly. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose.

"Grey wisps devour memories," he said gently. "Most wizards never recover."

Luna just smiled. "Duuh, that's why no one would dare look."

She pulled a strand of memory from her temple—silver and swirling—and handed it to Dumbledore, who caught it in a small crystal vial. He turned and passed it to Kingsley.

"Thank you, Luna," he said softly.

Then, inevitably, all eyes turned to Loth.

To the glowing being who felt like a bundle of super magic- containing more reserves than everyone in Hogwarts put together.

For a moment, the entire room was still.

It was time to talk about him.

(Loth's P.O.V)

A few months ago, my world was small.

A room. A screen. A book.

I used to live stories through other people—safe in the third person, warm in the detachment that only fiction could provide.

The observer.

Now? Now I was in a strange Percy Jackson × Harry Potter crossover universe as an Anodite.

Wild to think I was hovering in mid-air inside Dumbledore's office, glowing softly, crackling with raw energy.

All the while a Fiendfyre Phoenix nibbled on the charcoal meant for Fawkes—Dumbledore's actual Phoenix—who was currently hiding behind a filing cabinet like a terrified chicken.

Yeah. Life had changed.

I glanced down at my hands—or rather, the shape of hands, shimmering pink and violet, flickering in and out of form like a living aurora. I didn't breathe. I didn't blink. But I still…felt.

Below me, the semi-circle of stunned professors and senior Order of the Phoenix members stood watching. Open mouths. Unmoving.

Their magic hummed like candlelight compared to the wildfire inside me.

Dumbledore was the only one who didn't look confused. Maybe tired after Luna's testimony. Curious, definitely.

But he'd gotten over his surprise quickly to stand calmly behind his desk, hands clasped before him and gaze locked on me.

Behind him, poor Fawkes gave a miserable little chirp and ducked further out of sight as my blue Fiendfyre Phoenix—currently curled up on the edge of Dumbledore's desk like an oversized housecat—snapped up another bit of enchanted coal.

The moment passed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Everyone except Professors Snape, Lupin, and our three Order representatives… kindly excuse us."

There were protests. But a wave of his hand was all it took.

McGonagall glanced between Luna and me, clearly trying to hold back a hundred questions.

Snape didn't leave, of course—he looked mildly annoyed and only slightly more suspicious than usual.

Lupin gave me a faint smile and a tired nod. His magic core was intertwined with a dark spell that reminded me of the Hellhound's curse. Also, his presence placed the timeline during the third movie.

Good to know.

And then there was Moody—grizzled, battle-scarred, and visibly vibrating with anticipation. He was probably hoping I'd vaporize someone just so he could say I told you so.

The door clicked shut behind the last professor.

Dumbledore turned back to us, folding his hands. "Nobody is to speak of what happened. Not until we understand it fully. That includes what occurred at the Lovegood estate."

Flitwick, standing beside Lupin, rubbed his brow. "That may be difficult, Headmaster. Miss Lovegood has been missing for months. Her return won't go unnoticed."

"A non issue." I said quietly, floating down until I was standing beside Luna. "No one else will bother her. The ones who tried…" I glanced at Moody. "Aren't a problem anymore."

Moody's magical eye swiveled toward me. "Damn right they aren't," he muttered, grin twitching behind his beard. "Only thing I regret is not being there. Would've liked to take a piece out of Malfoy myself."

Luna leaned against my side, seemingly unfazed by their wariness. The Fiendfyre Phoenix let out a low caw and nuzzled her gently with its fiery beak.

Across the room, McGonagall had just returned. "Miss Lovegood, your housemates have been beside themselves. You've been listed as missing for weeks. Come, we'll get you settled in the Hospital Wing—"

Luna looked at me.

Not McGonagall. Not Dumbledore. Me.

I gave her a small nod. "Go. I'll be fine."

She didn't argue. Just touched my hand briefly before slipping away, escorted by McGonagall and a reluctant-looking Flitwick.

As the door closed again, the room fell quiet.

Lupin was the first to speak. "So… what are you?"

I looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. "Not sure yet."

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Then I suggest we find out. Together."

The old wizard waved his hand and whispered something under his breath.

The office around us seamlessly transformed—like the room exhaled and reshaped itself.

The cozy, book-lined chamber blurred away in a shimmer of golden threads, walls stretching outward, floors expanding, ceiling rising until the headmaster's office was replaced with a massive circular hall.

No noise. No theatrics. Just quiet, fluid motion—magic flowing like silk over water.

I didn't mistake it for transfiguration. Not like what I'd seen the Death Eaters use to twist rubble into monsters. This was different.

"It's not a transfiguration spell," I murmured, glancing around as ancient information bombarded my energy perception. "It's... a pact."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Indeed. I'm surprised you noticed."

"She's not just a school," I said, rotating slowly as I scanned the walls- lost in the wonders of magic. "How could she be? She rests at the intersection of three major ley lines. Her foundations drink from the raw veins of the earth. Her walls hum with soul echoes—decades of them. The very Mist that floats through these corridors has been severed from the greater whole and fed on enough ambient will to become something unique. Hogwarts doesn't just hold magic."

I looked back at them, suddenly envious of what they had. Frustrated that most of them didn't even realize such a basic truth.

"She is magic. A node. A fixture. And if she were destroyed… every wizard alive would lose at least ten percent of their magical core. Maybe more."

Snape snorted. "That's impossible."

But Dumbledore didn't contradict me. Instead, he stepped back and nodded solemnly.

"I've never met anyone who could see as deeply into the weave as you just did," he said. "But I believe you're right."

All around the chamber, the painted heads of long-passed Headmasters stirred to life in their portraits. A few murmured their agreement. One of them—an older wizard with a proud beard and a monocle—simply whispered, "A god…"

Lupin leaned sideways toward Moody. "Surely gods don't exist."

Dumbledore heard him anyway. His voice was calm, almost amused. "That's what the dueling hall is for. To find out whether Mr.Lothal here is indeed, a God of Magic or merely too powerful."

He raised his hand.

And I felt a subtle link click within me.

My gaze zeroed in on the wand gripped in his hand. A beautiful long silver stick with no discernible core.

That wand pulsed. Not violently, not threateningly. But… anciently.

Like it had stories it wanted to tell, with no one to listen or hear it's voice.

'Until now.'

Dumbledore must've seen my reaction.

"It's called the Elder Wand," he said. "And it has seen many truths and exposed many untruths."

I tilted my head slightly. "You want to duel."

He didn't nod. Didn't smile. Just said, "Yes."

"Why?" I asked, narrowing my gaze.

"Because your power is beyond us," he said. "And the only way to understand what we're dealing with… is to test it. Carefully."

I let the silence stretch for a moment, letting the feel of the room settle into me—the ambient hum of Hogwarts' wards, the slight nervous flickers of energy from the others standing nearby.

Finally, I asked, "Are you sure?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled—not with amusement, but with curiosity. "I am."

"Alright," I said, glancing around at the spacious dueling chamber. "Let's see if your wand's stories are worth listening to."