Jonquils And Lightning

Matchless in Magnificence

"I can't wait to see what you do with your wand."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to face Gaunt across the field he'd chosen. It used to be a place that Dorea ran her horses, but she'd sold several of them and moved the rest to a smaller pasture not long after Harry arrived in Godric's Hollow. It still had a sturdy fence around it, which made it an easy boundary for Harry to place wards along. Gaunt raised an eyebrow as he watched Harry's wand flick again and again.

"Why are you doing that?"

"I don't want our spells to hit any spectators."

"There aren't any." Gaunt was shedding his robes, carefully folding them and casting a spell that made them hover in midair instead of touching the grass. Harry snorted. Gaunt gave him a faint smile. "It's all right to admire me, you know."

"Jonquil does enough of that for a whole village. And there might be people coming along once the duel begins. I don't want them hurt."

Gaunt seemed to decide he could consider this and give it his approbation. He drew his wand, which Harry blinked at. It wasn't yew, although Harry couldn't immediately identify the dark wood. "What's the matter?" Gaunt added.

"The other version of you had a yew wand."

"The symbol of resurrection," Gaunt said, and dipped his head a little. "For your sake, I'm glad that I don't have one. I think I'm enough of a resurrection of bad memories for you."

"One would think that you'd be glad to distress me," Harry muttered, turning his head back and forth so that the muscles in his neck would loosen and his arms were gentle and relaxed.

"I don't want to hurt you, Harry. If you think I do, then you don't understand me yet."

Harry froze, his eyes trained on Gaunt's face. The smile there should have looked mocking, but it didn't. Gaunt went on watching him with a fainter version of the smile as he scraped his foot on the dirt and cleared a small place that he evidently thought would make a better pad to launch himself from.

"You want to stop me, though," Harry said. "You want to pay me back for the insults that I gave you, like the slap."

"You're doing that kind of thing because you don't understand me or why I came here." Gaunt's voice was calm and patient in the way that made all the flesh between Harry's shoulder blades feel as if it was standing on end. "Once you understand, then you'll give in and come with me."

Those words shocked Harry as if someone had plopped the sun into his eyes, and he took a step further back and shook his head. "You'll never understand anything but war and conquest, Gaunt. I'm more than that." And he unleashed enough of his magic that he could overpower Gaunt early in the duel, without using enough to kill him.

Gaunt's eyes widened and he stared at the air as it became silver-edged and shimmering. Harry gave him a mocking smile and swept his wand in a long motion that made the air begin to spiral about him.

"The duel will begin when you count three," Harry said.

*

Tom had heard of such things before—such spells that would make the air itself turn to knives—but most of the time, it required an elemental mage or someone to prepare the area beforehand. Harry fell into neither category.

But Tom had no doubt that if he reached out, the knives would slice through his hands as easily as material blades.

He sighed and put away the temptation to close with Harry, lay hands on his skin again, and lay him down in the grass while Harry was still struggling with the pleasure. He had to do something else right now if he wanted to impress him.