Harry Potter : Bloodraven-Chapter 94: Love, Laughter, and Plans (III) (CH - 114)

December in Indonesia was nothing like the snowy streets of Europe. The air was warm and heavy with humidity, carrying the fresh scent of rain-soaked soil and blooming plumeria.

Motor scooters rumbled down narrow roads, their noisy engines competing with the occasional honk of passing cars. Buses, their paint faded from years under the sun, rattled as they stopped to pick up passengers. Street vendors stood by their wooden carts, fanning the smoke from sizzling satay skewers while the smell of peanut sauce, frying bananas, and fresh fruit filled the air.

Children played barefoot on the sidewalks, laughing as they chased each other past rows of warungs where people sat on wooden benches, sipping sweet tea and chatting about the day. As dusk settled, oil lamps and dim streetlights cast long shadows over the worn pavement, their glow reflecting off puddles left behind by the afternoon rain.

Yet beyond these ordinary streets lay another world, one teeming with even more activity, hidden from the unsuspecting eyes of those who passed by. This was the magical heart of Indonesia, a place unlike any other—even among wizarding communities. Where Diagon Alley stood firm with its twisting cobbled streets and tightly packed shops, this place seemed shaped by nature itself, pulsing with energy and adapting as if it were alive.

Shops weren't inside regular buildings but stood in open pavilions made from the roots of giant banyan trees. Their entrances moved and changed, like doorways that were alive. Torches floated in the air, casting flickering light, while colorful batik tapestries swayed gently, their patterns coming to life as they revealed old stories.

The entire place pulsed with an energy that made it feel less like a marketplace and more like a living, breathing world of its own.

...

High above this land rich with magic and tradition, a sharp hum suddenly sliced through the night. And in that instant, out of nowhere, a young man and woman appeared holding each other close.

Isabella held onto Maverick's arm tightly as he kept a secure grip around her waist while they hovered in the open sky. For a moment, they simply took in the view as the cool night breeze passed them and the distant hum of life below filled their ears.

"Ricky, where are we?" Isabella asked just as Maverick conjured a magical platform beneath their feet.

"Indonesia," Maverick replied, setting her down as they both steadied themselves atop the floating construct.

Slowly, they descended toward a quiet corner. As they landed, Maverick lifted the enchantment hiding them from sight and stepped into the bustling streets.

The first thing they noticed were the many Merchants calling out in different languages, advertising their exotic goods. Just one glance can see the difference in goods in contrast to what one would find from a typical stall in Diagon Alley.

One wizard sold bottled monsoon clouds, swirling with tiny bolts of lightning inside. Another showcased enchanted batik robes that shifted between day and night patterns with a flick of the wrist. A group of witches haggled over a crate of Durian-looking potion ingredients, and their scent was so overwhelming that the couple smelled them from a good distance away.

Isabella's eyes sparkled as she took it all in. "This place is so lively," she said, squeezing Maverick's hand. "And look... some of them surely aren't locals. They must be from all over the world."

Maverick nodded, guiding her through the crowd. "That's because the International Dueling Tournament final is about to begin. That's why it's so packed."

Isabella turned to him, eyes filled with curiosity. "Are you taking me to see a duel?"

"Uh..." Maverick suddenly realized that Isabella might not be too impressed by a bunch of Magus level wizards throwing spells at each other.

But he quickly smoothed it over. "Well, it may not be as flashy as you'd expect, but think of it like a date... kind of like watching a Muggle movie, like we did last night."

Isabella smiled, tightening her grip on his arm. "Hey, I wasn't complaining... Besides, I'm also curious to see the level of the duelists who made it to the finals."

Maverick grinned. "Professor Flitwick, my colleague and Hogwarts' Charms professor is on the judging panel. He was the one who gave me the invite. I accepted and thought... why not turn this into a little getaway for us?"

Isabella smile sweetly at his words, and then leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. "Thank you, Ricky," she murmured.

As they strolled through the bustling street, they occasionally stopped by various stalls. At one, they sipped steaming cups of Teh Talua, a rich, egg-based tea, enjoying its warm, frothy texture while watching a group of young witches test out miniature broomsticks that zipped around like hummingbirds.

At another stall, Isabella picked up a delicate bracelet carved from dragon bone. The faintly glowing runes etched into it caught her attention, and she traced them with her fingers, intrigued by the craftsmanship.

"Here, let me," Maverick said, gently taking her wrist. He cast a quick scan to ensure it was safe before fastening the bracelet with a murmured spell. As soon as it touched her skin, the runes glowed softly, and the bracelet adjusted itself, fitting perfectly as if made just for her.

She smiled, running her fingers over the smooth surface. "It's nice. What kind of enchantment is it?"

He chuckled. "Nothing fancy, just a simple enchantment to adjust the size... and a little glowing effect during the process for show."

"Well... I like it either way," Isabella smiled and slipped her arm through his once more.

As they continued down the street, the crowd thickened, and the buzz of excitement grew with it. Soon, they stepped into a wide-open plaza filled with witches and wizards dressed in robes and garments from many different cultures. It was clear that they had come from all corners of the world.

They saw some waving colorful banners, cheering out unfamiliar names, while others huddled in eager groups, deep in discussion about the duelists competing tonight.

Further ahead, they saw long lines snaking toward a massive coliseum-like structure. Its towering walls were draped with banners displaying shifting images—two duelists locked in combat, sparks flying from their wands, their names glowing in enchanted script.

As they moved closer to the entrance, they saw stern-looking wizards in dark uniforms stationed at each gate, carefully checking everyone before allowing them through the enchanted barriers.

Isabella let out a low whistle, her eyes scanning the massive crowd. "So many people..."

Maverick nodded, his eyes scanning the sea of faces. "There must be a few thousand people outside alone. And a lot more must already be inside..."

Just then, a sharp voice cut through the noise. "Final match starts in less than an hour! If you don't have a ticket, get in line now!" A floating parchment hovered above the speaker, listing the names of the duelists and the event schedule.

Maverick turned to Isabella. "Come on. The professor said he would arrange seats for us." He led her toward a separate entrance marked V.I.P Guests, where another set of guards stood watch.

As they approached, a tall wizard with a clipboard glanced at them. "Names?"

"Maverick Caesar. Plus one," Maverick answered smoothly.

The wizard's eyes flicked to the list before nodding. "You're clear to enter." With a flick of his wand, the entrance shimmered open, revealing a grand corridor leading inside the coliseum.

They walked through a short tunnel-like passage, and the muffled roar of the crowd from the other side grew louder with their every step.

At the passages end, a wizard in the same attire as those stationed outside waited for them. His sharp eyes flicked toward them as they approached, and without a word, Maverick retrieved his ticket and held it up. The wizard studied it for a moment, gave a short nod, then gestured for them to follow.

They climbed a flight of stairs and emerged into an expansive, elegantly furnished viewing area. Plush seats were arranged in neat rows, each offering a perfect view of the grand arena below. Crystal chandeliers floated above, casting a warm glow, while a lavish buffet was set at the back, offering an array of fine dishes for the VIP guests.

Many witches and wizards were already seated, engaged in quiet conversation or sipping wine as they waited for the event to begin. The attendant led them to two empty seats in the front row on the right edge. To their left, a middle-aged couple dressed in traditional wizarding attire sat comfortably, observing the growing crowd below.

Maverick settled into his seat beside the man, while Isabella took the one closest to the wall. The moment he sat down, he heard the man next to him speak.

"What a coincidence to find a Hogwarts professor here," the man said, turning slightly toward him.

Maverick glanced at him, noting the unfamiliar face. "Do we know each other?" he asked, keeping his tone polite but curious.

The man offered a courteous smile. "Not personally, but I have heard of you. Daniel Greengrass," he introduced himself, and then gestured to the woman beside him. "And this is my wife, Winifred Greengrass."

Maverick returned the smile and gave a respectful nod. "Ah, you must be Daphne's parents." He paused briefly before extending a handshake. "Pleasure, Lord Greengrass."

The older man shook his head with a quick wave of his hand. "Please, just call me Daniel, Master Caesar. The pleasure is all mine." He firmly shook Maverick's hand, then added, "And yes, indeed. Our daughter speaks very highly of her professor."

Maverick acknowledged the courtesy but didn't dwell on it. Instead, he settled comfortably into his seat.

"She's a bright witch," he said. "Sharp, hardworking. You should be proud."

Lord Greengrass's expression softened with a hint of pride before his gaze flicked to Isabella. He studied her for a moment before speaking again. "And this must be your fiancée."

Maverick inclined his head. "Yes, Isabella."

Lady Greengrass's lips curved slightly. "We had heard about your engagement to Edward Garling's daughter. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Garling."

Isabella returned their greeting with practiced ease—not overly polite, nor distant. She was, after all, the daughter of a Speaker and carried herself with the dignity befitting her station.

Lord Greengrass then turned his attention back to Maverick. "Are you interested in such competitions?"

Maverick shook his head lightly. "Not particularly. I came at Professor Flitwick's invitation and thought it'd be a good chance to do some sightseeing with my fiancée."

A comfortable silence settled between them as the anticipation in the air thickened. Guests occasionally rose to help themselves to the buffet, where golden platters held everything from roasted meats to delicate pastries, while fine goblets of wine floated through the air, serving themselves to those who beckoned.

And just then, Maverick's Magical-Sense picked up a powerful magical presence enter the area. He showed no outward reaction, keeping his expression relaxed as he continued chatting casually with Isabella, but half of his senses remained locked onto the newcomer.

A man and a young wizard walked towards the front row, taking seats just a few spots away from them. The older man had a short beard and equally short blond hair, dressed in the refined elegance of a gentleman. The younger one, no older than Maverick, carried himself with unmistakable arrogance. His formal attire was pristine, and a smug, self-assured smile rested on his lips.

As they passed each row, the other guests subtly inclined their heads in acknowledgment. Yet the pair strode forward without even a glance at those offering respect, as if the others were mere air.

Maverick noticed the Greengrass couple tensing beside him. They, too, bowed their heads ever so slightly.

Just as the pair took their seats, the younger man suddenly turned his head in Maverick's direction. His eyes widened abruptly. He even stopped mid-motion, halfway into his seat, as if frozen in place.

Maverick didn't need to follow his gaze to know the source of his reaction. The young man wasn't looking at him—he was staring at Isabella.

She, however, didn't notice a thing. She hadn't even glanced his way, instead focused on picking small bites from a platter of sliced fruit.

Maverick's eyes narrowed slightly. The young man's stare wasn't just one of surprise—it was intrusive, scrutinizing in a way that made his instincts flare. Without hesitation, Maverick met his gaze with a sharp, cutting look.

The young man visibly recoiled in that instant and shrank into his seat.

But moments later, his expression twisted as though insulted. His shoulders squared as if trying to shake off whatever had unnerved him. A disciple of a Great-Magus cowering from a single glance? The very thought seemed to enrage him.

Meanwhile, the older man beside him had taken notice. His eyes flicked toward Maverick, his frown deepening.

Maverick could tell exactly what the man was thinking. This old wizard—whoever he was—was trying to assess him, to gauge his presence. Yet he would find nothing. He was only a Great-Magus, and Maverick's magic was too well-controlled for that.

But that very absence of presence seemed to unsettle the older man even more.

The young wizard leaned toward him, whispering in a foreign language. "Who is he? Do you know him? Or is he someone in disguise?"

The older wizard didn't answer right away. His sharp eyes flickered over Maverick again, then eventually faced forward. After a long pause, he muttered, "I don't know. But it's not a disguise."

The younger man scowled. "I want to sit next to her."

The old wizard glanced at him, then after a moment, sighed. "Do whatever you want."

Maverick, who had been following their exchange through his Magical-Sense, sighed inwardly. Is this one of those young master and apprentice types?

It was clear that this master and apprentice were used to getting whatever they wanted, forgetting that there were always greater powers beyond their reach. But that was a given—after all, a Great-Magus was still no ordinary wizard. To the average magical, they were undoubtedly untouchable figures of power, as there were only about a hundred of them in the entire world.

He watched as the young man stood, but just as he did, the older wizard's entire posture tensed. His pupils shrank.

Then, in one swift motion, without a care for how it might appear to others, he grabbed the younger wizard's shirt and forced him back into his seat.

"Arh..." the younger man grunted, then looked at him in confusion. "Master... what's the matter?"

The man said something in their language —low, firm, and absolute. "Do not provoke that man."

The young wizard's brows furrowed. "Why—"

The latter said nothing else. He simply kept his hand firmly on the young man's shoulder.

Maverick smirked internally.

Just moments ago, he had sent a silent, telepathic warning to the old man—a precise, directed sound wave only he could hear.

"If you don't want to die, you'd better get your dog under control."

And just to drive the point home, he had briefly let his dominant spirit envelope the old wizard, a pressure so precise and controlled that it left no room for doubt.

And the old wizard hadn't just heard the warning. He had felt it.

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And in that moment, unbeknownst to everyone else, an execution was quietly averted.

For now, that is.

Maverick leaned back in his seat, perfectly at ease, as if nothing had happened at all. Around them, the atmosphere remained unchanged—cheers, laughter, and the excited hum of conversation filling the air.

Then, the arena lights dimmed slightly, and a hush rippled through the crowd.

The duels were about to begin.

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Author's Note:

Just a quick update — up to Chapter 146 is already available on P AT r30n!

PAT r30n [.] com / RyanFic