AN:

I know I said this would be done and published last week, but honestly, I was a bit nervous to post it. I understand that it has been a long time since you all got an actual chapter as an update and many want to get back to enjoying the story. However, I've not written in quite a while. I'm still getting used to writing again and I find myself struggling at times. This was the product of one month of on and off writing as I attempted to read what I had already written and wrangle my head around where exactly I meant to go.

A lot of you might consider this filler, and you would be partially correct. I've read and reread this chapter, hoping that I've put enough into it that will push the story forward, but I have no doubt that it might fall a bit flat with those expecting some action. I apologize for not being able to satisfy that desire, but still hope that you enjoy the chapter nonetheless. Please bear with me as I stumble along to get back to my groove.

Sincerely,

AltruousAlliterator

Now on with the story we go!

The months passed as Archer finished the year, strong. He sat his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams for Transfiguration at the French Ministry and received Outstandings with Honors for both. Laura had been so proud of his accomplishment that she had taken him to the Transfiguration Master's Guild Headquarters to peruse the guild's library.

That had been a very educational field trip. The ancient scrolls he had read mentioned that Transfiguration wasn't the only subfield under Reality Distortion. Another subfield called Illusion Magic was focused on ensnaring the senses and deceiving the mind by mixing Reality Distortion with Mind Magic.

It was a field that worked in conjunction with the Mind Arts to misdirect and befuddle the intended targets. Unlike Transfiguration, which specialized in creating physical constructs, Illusion stressed subtle mental manipulation.

Ironically, the Rosier family's affinity turned out to be Illusion Magic. The female Rosiers especially were said to be able to use the arte to deadly effect. Oftentimes using large scale, area of effect illusions to distract and confuse enemies on the battlefield.

His ancestor Vinda Rosier was cited as the one who perfected the art of Combat Illusion Magic, partnering with Grindelwald to form a lethal combination of constant illusionary feints followed by devastating attacks. They were feared to the point that the ICW gave a direct order for all forces to retreat should both be present at the same battle.

It was a difficult field to understand, but Laura had promised to properly introduce him once he was at least halfway finished with his Mastery Thesis. She was trying to keep him focused on writing it, as she was convinced he had the potential to be the youngest Transfiguration Master in the last four hundred years.

He had selected the theory that interested him the most, discovering a novel method of non-Alchemical Material Transmutation. This theory would make the case of using pure Transfiguration on material objects that resulted in a semi-permanent change of state.

Transfiguration utilized the intent of the caster and visualization of the change they desired to make. The spells worked by blanketing an object with magic and altering its properties. That was why one of the first concepts taught in Transfiguration is the relation between the size and weight of an object and the difficulty of Transfiguring it, along with how long the change lasts.

The entire introductory exercise of transfiguring a matchstick into a needle was created with this principle in mind. Both items were of similar size and weight. Hence, it would be much simpler to change than turning a large object into a small one, or vice versa.

He had utilized his knowledge of chemistry to try and break down an object into individual molecules, and change each one gradually, meaning it would theoretically hold its changed state for significantly longer. Instead of blanketing the object with his magic, he would pinpoint a certain area to start in, and the change would spread from there.

The transformation would look more akin to a wildfire spreading across the land than a whole object morphing instantaneously. It was slow, but unlike most transfigured objects, the resulting shift could not be disrupted by a single, powerful Finite. He knew that for damn sure.

The more magic he put into it, the longer the transformation would hold. It required a level of precision that he still hadn't achieved yet but was confident he eventually would. He was a growing boy still going through his secondary magical maturity after all.

In all honesty, the magic and precision required would ensure that only individuals with above average channeling capacities and senior members of the guild would be able to make use of his theory. The need for understanding non-magical chemistry was also a barrier he didn't expect many to bother with.

It was wasteful purely from an energy standpoint, requiring significantly more energy than a standard Transfiguration. Still, it excited him, as it was the closest he could get to actual Transmutation.

He didn't need to demonstrate his method to the panel. The option of simply relying on the thoroughness of his arithmantic calculations to show the viability of his theory would be enough to get his Mastery. His Master had done the same, but whereas she physically couldn't do it, he would be taking the easy way out.

However, Laura had been dogmatic in her insistence that he be able to show it firsthand. Otherwise, even when he received the title Master, he wouldn't garner as much respect. Only by proving his theory in front of others, would the other Masters truly accept him as one of their own. So he listened to her counsel, and worked hard to improve his control every day without fail until he was confident in his ability to prove the feasibility of his thesis.

He entered the summer excited, as Morgana had finally begun to instruct him on how to incorporate Invocation rituals into his intended 3 sets of 7 rituals. She had educated him in the finer points of Invocation Rituals for the past couple of months.

After comparing the magical nuances between his old and new reality, they decided to switch focus from purely physical enhancements to a combination of magical, physical and a new type he had never heard of, elemental augmentations.

Like the familial specializations becoming a magical affinity in children, the elements worked in the similar fashion. Children had an equal chance of inheriting the elemental affinities of their parents. Though unlike the family magical affinity, the elemental affinity had very little effect for most magical children.

The most that they would notice was that spells that used a certain element would be slightly easier for them to cast or took less energy to power for higher level spells. Unless they went through Arcane rituals like the one Morgana was making him undergo, it wouldn't be considered much of an advantage.

When it came to the elements, Morgana told him "There are many elements, but most children only show an affinity for one, maybe two if they have strong bloodlines. With the power and potency of the family magic you have access to, they might fight for dominance and ultimately only the 2 most powerful magics would win. That would mean you have 2 elemental affinities, that we can upgrade your control and power over with the appropriate rituals."

That very day, they set up a blood-ritual that would tell him what affinities he had. He stood in his room in front of a simple pentagram drawn in chalk. A pentagram was an odd shape as 5 was not an arithmantically significant number. However, due to their being 5 main elements, this was the only shape that was suitable for this ritual.

He took his silver ritual knife and nicked his right pointer finger. Counting 5 drops of blood, he chanted the words "Sit sanguis meus revelare mea potentia (Let my blood reveal my potential)".

The blood he sacrificed spread to each corner of the pentagram, turning the chalk crimson in the process. According to Morgana, if he had an affinity for an element, the circle containing the rune would light up. He waited a few seconds for the results, excited to see what affinities he had.

After half a minute, a strong glow emanated from two corners of the pentagram. The runes for wind and lightning were brightly shining on the floor. A grin overtook Archer's face as he whooped in joy. Morgana had given him a rundown of the elements beforehand, and both his elements were deemed to be exceedingly powerful, lightning more so than wind.

He went through the rest of his day as usual, pushing himself to practice his duelling form and techniques along with his control exercises for Transfiguration. That night, he told Morgana the results of the ritual and she was suitably impressed.

"I knew you would most likely have two. I expected you to inherit my own affinity for wind, but the lightning was a surprise. I thought you would inherit the Black family's fire specialty. After all, they are the only cadet branch of the Peverells that hasn't effectively dissolved. I'm unaware of where you received the lightning affinity from, but it is a blessing nonetheless."

"What does this mean for the augmentation rituals?" Archer asked her.

"Discovering your elemental affinities was crucial because the deity we will invoke would change based upon the results. For wind, I recommend the Hindu god of wind, Vayu to ask for a blessing. For lightning, we can do a bit of research and find a deity that can give you a suitable increase in power."

Archer nodded. "Okay, then I'll start looking into the various deities of lightning that we could use. Off the top of my mind, Zeus would be one we could consider."

Morgana immediately rebuffed his solution. "Never, ever summon the ruler of a Pantheon without suitable cause. They are often the most arrogant and quick-tempered gods, who will curse you severely for daring to disturb them."

"Okay, so Zeus is out. I'll do some research and get back to you on our options." Archer replied.

"Do so. The deity we invoke will be important as with their blessing, your control and power over the element will increase proportionally. However, the method in which they wield their respective elements will affect you too.

As an example, let's take my story of summoning Wadjet. If I had a fire affinity and asked for her blessing, then my power over fire would increase only in protection of Arthur, or whoever I deemed to be my 'pharaoh'.

It is important to select a deity that holds domain over your element, but also uses it in a way that you intend. In your case, search for a deity that also is known for their prowess in using their element in battle. That will mean that your offensive lightning spells that you use in battle will be enhanced by their blessing."

There were a few constraints, but Archer agreed to search hard and find a suitable deity to summon. With that, they started reviewing some of the exercises and the processes for the rituals he would perform on July 7th.

As June transitioned into July, he felt a sense of excitement overtake him. So many things would be happening in the next couple of weeks. He would finally undergo the enhancement rituals that would see him become even more powerful. After years of waiting and preparing, he was finally going to start executing his plans to prepare the world for Voldemort's return.

He was also due to participate in his first European U-15 tournament in a couple of weeks. He wanted to become a world champion once again, because he had seen his parents' disappointment in his decision to stop fencing competitively. This would be the perfect way to make them proud and show them what he could do.

He started practicing with increasing intensity, for hours on end every day. He had asked Henri to register him under a pseudonym. While uncommon, it wasn't illegal. It was used by some of the more secretive families to protect their children's identities while allowing them to gain experience duelling against others their age.

Duelling under glamours as another person would avoid bringing too much scrutiny onto him. Not to mention, it would be advantageous to reveal his identity as a World Champion Duellist alongside his status as the youngest Transfiguration Master in modern history later, at a time of his choosing. The benefits and prestige would allow him to make some friends in high places.

The name he had chosen was Alexei Romanov, in honor of his father and granduncle. It would also help him build a public face that he could use to let the world know of the revival of the Romanov family.

While the hatred in Russia was still deeply ingrained after decades of propaganda, the other Eastern European countries never gave much credence to Stalin's words, and many still revered the royal house. Making allies in the region would be much easier with this identity, rather than that of Archer Beaufort.

On July 7th, Archer woke up early and started to prepare for the rituals. He ordered all the sacrificial materials ahead of time and kept them ready. Rehearsing the chant in his mind, he took an ice-cold shower and shivered underneath the torrent of freezing water.

While he would have loved to take a soothing hot one, Morgana had explicitly told him that he needed to cleanse his body like the ancients. They did so in rivers, with no temperature controls, so he had to simulate that effect. His discomfort would be a pseudo-sacrifice to express his determination by forgoing material comforts.

He didn't know how much of it to believe but seeing as he would be invoking the presence of literal gods, he decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Drying himself off, he donned a plain white robe that draped down his frame. Retrieving the materials, he made his way outside the chateau and into the forested grounds.

He had already mentioned his intentions to his parents, though he left out the part of summoning gods for their blessing. That would have been both fun and terrifying to have to explain.

Not to mention, letting them know that every god they had heard of actually existed in another plane would permanently change them. After several assurances of his safety, they agreed to stay clear of the ritual ground and await his return.

Entering a clearing, Archer placed his supplies on to the ground and inspected the circle. It was hands-down the most complex runic circle he had ever drawn. Instead of the standard runes that he had used for his first set of 7, this ritual utilized glyphs as the base.

Glyphs, as he found out from both Morgana and his own research into Ancient Runes, were the pinnacle of the runic arts. Each glyph contained anywhere from 7 to 7777 individual runes. The method of forming a glyph was a complex and time-consuming one.

The caster had to steadily feed their magic into a rune while drawing it and interlock each rune with the next in the sequence. In a glyph, every rune flowed into the other, which meant that a single mistake would destabilize the entire construct, forcing the caster to start again.

It had taken him the better part of two whole weeks to get each glyph of 777 runes completed. That was with his near flawless control over his own magic. If he had attempted this before his control was at its current level, it would have taken him a few months at the very least.

He started taking out the sacrifices and potions he would need, laying them all out nearby. Categorizing each, he went around the circle, putting the right materials for each ritual inside its respective glyph. Double-checking to make sure it was all correct, he disrobed and kept a close eye on the clock, waiting for the start time.

After much back and forth, they had decided to invoke the Norse God of Thunder, Thor, to ask for the blessing. Thor's background as a warrior and the way in which he used his famous hammer Mjolnir to control the lightning to strike his enemies, very closely matched what Archer intended to use his element for.

Not to mention, he was also a deity of strength and protection of mankind, meaning his blessing would also boost the effects of the strength enhancing rituals that were being conducted right afterward. Reviewing the process one last time, he saw the seconds tick down as he prepared to start his 3 sets of 7 rituals. The moment 7:07 started, the ritual knife sliced across his hand and the sound of chanting filled the clearing.

7 hours and 7 minutes later, Archer collapsed onto the ground, his muscles screaming in agony. With a trembling hand, he reached towards the Pain-Reliving and Blood-Replenishing potions on the periphery of the circle. After struggling to uncork them, he chugged them down like a man dying of thirst.

The magic in the potions immediately went to work, soothing the aches in his muscles and working to get him away from his state of exsanguination. It took nearly half an hour for him to recover from the ordeal, but he was confident that everything would be fine after a good night's rest.

The rituals had all been successful, with both Vayu and Thor answering his call and giving him their blessings. To his shock, they were able to see through his mental protections and witness the life he led before his fateful transference into this reality.

Both gods had been impressed, with Thor going so far as to give him a compliment. His exact words being "You were an exceptional, and brave warrior who fought valiantly against the demonic forces. I know that you will use my blessing well. May the Allfather smile upon you, Archer Beaufort."

Vayu had similar reactions, stating that he was "happy to bless someone of such fine character", or something along those lines. Truth be told, Archer's Sanskrit was quite rusty, and while he had perfectly recited the lines to ask for the blessing, Vayu's response hadn't been easy to decipher. Still, he gained both elemental blessings he desired and was ecstatic to see the kind of difference it made.

When he finally gained the strength to stand up, he haphazardly wore his robes and started the long trek back to the chateau. Trudging slowly, he took frequent breaks to not tire himself out. Once he saw the chateau in the distance, he saw the car come barreling towards him.

Apparently, Jean and Sofia had been worried sick and decided to come look for him. It was a good thing he had already walked most of the way, as it would have been a disaster if they attempted to come and find him before he was finished.

The car stopped just short of him and the door flew open. Sofia rushed out and ran towards him. Engulfing him in a tight hug, she lightly sobbed. "We were so worried, Archer! I know you told us to be patient, but there were so many things happening! Lightning struck the ground! On a clear day! Just what were you thinking?!"

She was very distraught, and while he was in a lot of pain. Archer knew that it was his duty to give her some peace of mind. "Maman. Do not worry. Everything went off without a problem. The lightning was just the reaction to the magic I was casting. I'm perfectly alright. Tired, but alright."

Jean had gotten out at this point and had a look of concern on his face. "Archer. Your mother and I were so worried when all those phenomena started happening. The wind was gusting so strongly, and the lightning that came out of nowhere rattled the windows. We were both scared for you."

Archer winced. He hadn't expected the natural phenomena spurred by the appearance of the gods to be so noticeable. In most Invocation rituals, the shade that was invoked would simply appear in the circle and could communicate with the ritual's caster.

It was a good thing he had purchased some expensive ward stones and warded the entire property with everything he could put on it. He doubted there was a safer residential building in the entirety of France. The wards he had used were some advanced ones that were created during the later stages of the war, meaning they had several protections most other magical homes wouldn't.

'Perhaps the specific elemental enhancement rituals were designed to summon them a different way? And yet, Morgana had been quite clear when she said that when she summoned Borrum, the Celtic God of Wind, he had not made such a grandiose appearance.'

Resolving to figure the reasons out in the dream realm with Morgana, he collapsed into the strong arms of his father. "Papa. I'm very tired right now. I need to rest so the rituals can work their magic."

Jean nodded and immediately loaded him into the car. They drove back quickly and for the first time in years, Jean carried him to his bed and tucked him in. Archer immediately fell into a deep sleep upon being laid down, and his fluctuating magic calmed slightly as it worked to stabilize itself.

It took two days for him to recover, but when he woke up, he was greeted with a pleasant surprise. His body had undergone some major changes. He was taller, his muscles were far more defined than before, but most importantly, he felt a sense of power and hidden might that wasn't there previously. In short, he felt on top of the world.

The first practice right after his recovery had been a difficult one, as he often forgot his new height and felt disconcerted by the sudden change in perspective. He worked hard to get used to it, and he eventually did before the day of the tournament.

The day had come, and Archer was stretching out his muscles when he heard the doorbell ring. Opening the door, he saw Professor Desjardins smiling at him while holding a box in his arms. "Professor Desjardin! Please come in."

Entering the house Desjardins mockingly chastised him. "Now Archer, I thought I made it clear that while we are working for the tournament, you must call me Henri. Not to mention, school was let out a while back."

Archer chuckled. "Of course, Henri."

"Are you ready, Archer? I hear the competition is going to be tough this year. Several notable names are participating. I want you to be safe and use this opportunity to see how others duel. I don't want you getting hurt. Understand?"

Archer nodded and asked, "What's that you're holding?"

Desjardins smirked. "These are your dueling robes. I had them made for you as regular robes won't offer any protection on the platform."

Archer smiled. "You shouldn't have, Henri."

He waved Archer's thanks away. "Nonsense, my dear boy. You are my protégé. It is my duty as your mentor to prepare and equip you properly."

Archer took the package and thanked him. Opening it, he saw a light blue colored robe that was thicker than a usual uniform. He felt the smooth material and whistled. It must have cost a pretty pence.

"Get dressed and we will Apparate to the French Ministry before taking an international portkey from the departure terminal."

Archer nodded and rushed to his room. He was out in less than two minutes and checked himself. Everything was there.

'Time to go kick some ass.'

Saying goodbye to his parents, Archer and Henri appeared in the French Ministry and then took an international portkey to Italy, as the tournament was being held in Rome. The international portkey was much rougher than he was used to, but he managed to stick the landing well enough.

They were greeted by an Italian Ministry employee who guided them to the main lobby. They went straight to the magical hotel that was meant for competitors. They spent the rest of the day enjoying the sights and local cuisine before sitting down and focusing on the upcoming matches.

The following day was the start of the tournament and it would go on for the whole day. He sat down and went through his pre-tournament ritual, which was something he used to do when he still fenced.

After a good night's rest, he appeared at the venue ready to fight. His first four duels were short and to the point. He didn't waste time to be showy, he was all about effectiveness and defeating his opponents with the least amount of fuss. His philosophy of fighting was somewhat the opposite of what dueling was about, but nobody could argue against the efficiency of his approach.

It reminded him a lot of his first fencing tournament. Just like back then, he had completely outclassed his opponents. This audience, much like that one, had caught on to that fact quickly. He went from a complete unknown with an already established mentor, to a possible dark horse champion within the span of 3 matches.

When it became apparent that he would be a finalist, he called his parents and told them to come and witness the match. They had been ecstatic that he had once again shown such talent and promise in a sport, albeit a magical one. They had arrived the next morning, happily congratulating him for making it to the finals.

He wasn't too worried about the match. His opponent for the finals was Alphonse Fawley, the previous tournament's champion. This would be his last U-15 tournament, as he was turning 16 soon, and would graduate to the U-17 bracket. Archer had spent a lot of time watching his duelling style, as he had been marked as the favorite to win since the beginning of the tournament.

When he had stepped onto the stage, a plan had already formed in his head, and the moment the referee signaled the start of the duel, he leapt into action. Fawley was like most British duellists, relying on the Knight style as the foundation of his personal duelling style.

The best way to combat a Knight style duellist was to tire them out and not give them a chance to fight back. That was exactly what Archer had done. Making sure to keep his true strength hidden, he pelted Fawley constantly with spell after spell.

True to his style, Fawley kept his shield up continuously, unable to fight back. After 15 minutes of nonstop assault, Archer decided to end it by putting him down hard.

He cast Caesus, a spell that caused a thick blanket of smoke to billow out of his wand. Fawley was tired but kept his Protego shield up nonetheless, awaiting an opportunity to counterattack. What he couldn't anticipate, was that Archer's plan did not involve using a purely magical attack.

With a jab of his wand, Archer transfigured the smoke that surrounded his opponent into coal dust and used a Ventus to contain it within an enclosed space. The particles danced in the air around his opponent. The boy's reaction was instantly switching to a Contego shield to protect from physical objects. Unfortunately, Archer was not intending on using physical objects either.

With a sharp flick, he sent a concentrated spark of electricity towards the bottom of the dust cloud, igniting it, and causing an explosion that engulfed Fawley and sent him flying off the platform with severe burns all over his body.

It was a non-magical phenomenon called a dust explosion that he had used to take his opponent by surprise. The fine particles of coal that were transfigured from the smoke was the proverbial fuel, and the momentary spark provided the ignition point to make it go boom.

The resultant shock wave from the near instantaneous explosion of the dust had hit Fawley before he could have done anything. The Contego shield only protected the caster against physical objects, but not an invisible force like a concussive shock wave.

The only shield that could protect against something like that was an Aegis shield, which was out of reach for most U-17 duellists. The channeling capacity required to power the shield and hold it against a large amount of force wasn't something many in his age group had.

Archer was presented with a trophy and declared Champion of the 1993 European U-15 Tournament. He had worked hard for it, and his parents, along with Henri had been ecstatic about his victory. They had celebrated and returned to France, where the trophy was proudly displayed next to his numerous fencing trophies. Albeit, it had glamor to disguise it when non-magical guests looked at it.

Seeing how proud they were had made all the effort he had put into training worth it. They celebrated with dinner and cake and the next day, Archer started preparing for the U-15 International Tournament.

Only the top 3 duellists of each region could compete. Since Fawley would soon be out of the age group, the fourth-place winner was chosen alongside Archer and another competitor, to Europe at the international level. They were held in mid-August, so Archer had almost 3 weeks to prepare for them.

He knew that his little trick with the dust explosion was now unable to take his opponents by surprise anymore. No doubt the competition would be reviewing his fight with Alphonse and thinking up of ways to counter him. That didn't matter though, as he would channel Gellert's specialty, adapt, dissect, and break.

He desperately hoped that the duellists on the international stage would be stronger than the ones he faced in the European tournament. There were so many tactics and spell chains he wanted to experiment with, but nobody had stood up to him for more than 20 minutes. Only by facing a challenge could he learn what works and create his personal duelling style.

To prepare him for the International tournament, Henri had decided to take a more hand-on approach to his training. Up until that point he had merely stood by the side and ran through exercises and drills. Now, Henri was rolling up his sleeves and getting ready to duel.

"Archer. I was extremely impressed by your performance in the tournament. However, I could tell that you were bored. When duelling, you had the same expression you had sometimes when I'm reviewing the basics of a charm you already mastered. So, I feel that our lessons must be more battle-oriented to best prepare you for what you are to face."

Within seconds, the smile on his face faded, leaving an ice-cold smirk in its wake. "Come at me with all you've got, Archer. I'll heal you when you get hurt and we can continue."

Archer's lips twitched slightly. This was going to be exhilarating. He couldn't wait to measure himself against a previous World Champion. "Don't you mean if I get hurt, Henri?"

The magic in their surroundings roiled furiously as a feral grin took over Henri's features. "No, you are going to get hurt. How much is going to depend on how well you fight back" he said as he gave a short, curt bow.

Without warning, before he even straightened up the whole way, Henri let loose with a spell chain. An Aguamenti sent a torrent of water gushing out of his wand. A Glacius right on its heels froze it into a 2-meter-long chunk of ice. Archer didn't even need to think to know what would happen next.

"Contego." A thick blue wall of magic formed in front of him.

Just as he predicted, the Bombarda that finished Henri's spell chain sent numerous shards of ice hurtling towards him. They were all stopped by the shield, as the ice piled up in front of him. He was about to respond when his gut screamed for him to move out of the way. It had saved his life many times in the past, so he listened to it without hesitation.

It was a good thing too, as the moment he got clear of his shield, a Shield-Breaker spell shattered it and sent the ice chunks that had piled up in front of it bursting through. If he had been there when that happened… He didn't want to think of the amount of bones he would have broken.

He fired back with equal ferocity. "Saggita." He turned the ice chunks into arrows. "Depulso." They were sent back towards Henri at high speed, as he overpowered his Banishing charm. With an easy flick of his wrist, Henri shielded against them as he laughed.

"Is this all I can expect from you, Archer. I have to say I'm quite disappointed. Personally if this is the best you have, I recommend you resign from the tournament and quit duelling. The competition there will eat you alive. There is no shame in knowing when you're outmatched.

Your parents were quite happy when you won the European Championship. Let them remain ignorant of the dangers of your chosen sport. After all the love they have shown you, it is better they have a son that is still alive than a dead one that couldn't admit he was weak. Then again, they could just replace you with another one, orphans like yourself are always available."

Archer knew that Henri was trying to goad him, but damn if it didn't sting. The way he had masterfully used his parents without resorting to insulting them, but also taunting him with the effect his death would have on them was cold. Something he would never have expected from a man as kind and genuine as Henri, and it was making him angry.

His ancestry had given him knowledge many would kill for. The rituals he had undergone would ensure that he would become one of the most powerful men in the world, far outstripping Desjardin by the time he was in his 20's. He had the blessing of two gods, something most would never experience in their entire lives. This wouldn't do at all.

At that moment, any limitations he had imposed on himself all but vanished. There were times to play the game, but sometimes, power and violence were the only languages that would be understood. As much as he liked Henri, he would give him a lesson the man would never forget for the rest of his life.

All emotion vanished from Archer's face as he looked at Henri and disregarded any previous memory he had of him. At that moment, he was just a man who was foolish enough to stand in his way and wound his pride. While he would control himself and not kill him, severe pain was still on the table.

The magic in the air stilled, the calm before the storm. The smirk on Henri's face vanished instantly and a hint of apprehension flashed in his eyes. Archer's hand twitched and before Henri knew what was happening, several spells were flying at him.

"Protego!" It was the first time he had voiced a spell, and it was cast just in time. Archer's spells struck the shield one after the other, causing cracks to form on its surface. As he was about to return fire, he was dive-bombed by a murder of crows. A quick Incendio roasted them before they could touch him, but they proved to just be a distraction.

A large chunk of ice, much like the one he had sent towards Archer was heading towards him at high speed. He expected a Bombarda to break it into chunks like he had, but the actual attack took him utterly by surprise.

Out of the periphery, a fiery whip came slicing towards his head. It was only his instincts and reflexes as an experienced duellist that saved him from being decapitated. He managed to duck in time while keeping his shield up.

To his surprise, the ice that was heading towards him was no longer ice. When he had ducked, it had been transfigured back into water and as he wondered why exactly Archer would do this, he got his answer in short order. The deluge of water flowed around his shield and twisted around, trying to encapsulate him.

With a start, he realized the spell that had just been used, and immediately cast a modified Bubblehead charm that surrounded his entire body. As he predicted, the water formed a globe that was intended to trap and drown him. The Aquaglobus charm. A tricky charm that required an extreme amount of control to pull off. One that he hadn't expected Archer to even know, let alone be able to cast so easily.

A flash shone briefly from the front, causing him to immediately freeze the water around him and shield while bracing for impact. A thick bolt of lightning barreled right through the icy sphere and rammed into his shield. It proved to be exceptionally strong, sending him stumbling back.

As he attempted to stabilize himself, a tornado came towards him, with shiny pieces of silver glinting within the tempestuous winds. He took a moment to observe closely and realized that those silver fragments were in fact razor blades.

'Looks I made a mistake in goading him. If I knew he could do all of this, then there was no way he wouldn't be the U-15 World Champion. Hell, he could probably win the U-17 Championship without breaking a sweat.'

With no other course of action available to him, he cast his strongest shield, the Aegis shield, around himself to protect him from the gusting winds, but also transfigure any razors that hit it into air. It worked as he intended. As the numerous razors embedded in the winds struck his shield, they evaporated into thin air.

He was confident that Archer had expended a lot of energy into casting the tornado and decided to wait him out, seeing as none of the attacks could get through his Aegis shield. For a moment, the tornado trembled, and Henri prepared himself.

'This'll be the last attack he can do then. A bit more power to the shield wouldn't hurt.'

He increased the amount of magic he was putting into maintaining the shield and felt his body groan in protest. This was a strong shield that not many people could hold for an extended amount of time. The strain it put on a person was immense, especially when absorbing powerful attacks.

A burgeoning light shone from the end of the funnel, and Henri recognized the telltale signs of a lightning spell. He broke into a victorious smirk. For all of Archer's talents, he had never witnessed or experienced the protection provided by an Aegis shield. Nothing he was capable of casting could hope to break through. At that moment, Henri didn't realize how wrong he was in that assumption.

Instead of a lightning bolt, the light formed into the figure of a large snake head. It opened its mouth wide and bit down directly on his shield. Within seconds, it buckled under the strain and shattered completely, exposing him to the tornado surrounding him. The razors slashed his robes and every inch of exposed skin.

'He can cast an Aegis Breaker?!' was his final thought as two Piercing Curses blew large holes through his legs and three precisely aimed Bone-Breaker Curses hit his right shoulder, elbow, and wrist.

His wand was ripped out his grasp by a Disarming Spell just as the pain hit him. However, the torture wasn't over, as a whip of lightning came crackling towards him and slashed right across his chest, sending him flying backwards, screaming in agony.

His vision faltered for a second as he fell. He blinked, and the space in front of him was now filled by the figure of his protégé. A nasty looking curse sparked at the end of his wand, aimed right between his eyes.

He had been in his fair share of deadly situations, but something about this one was just terrifying. Archer, the young man he had taken under his wing, had been replaced by what could only be a seasoned war veteran who had killed more people than he could count.

The look of disinterest in those icy emeralds that bore into him spoke of someone who would take his life without hesitation. It was surreal, as he would have never expected such an expression from a man so young.

He didn't know when he started chuckling, but he had. He must have been insane to laugh at someone who was holding him at wand-point, but then again, anyone who willingly took part in deadly combat for fun couldn't be accused of being completely sane. All duellists were slightly insane, some more than others.

"Mon Dieu. I would never, in my wildest dreams, have thought you would be this skilled, Archer. I am so sorry for saying such hurtful things. I wanted to get a reaction out of you because it is a common tactic among the younger fighters. Perhaps I should have kept your parents out of it. I can tell that's what set you off."

In front of his eyes, Archer's face went from cold-blooded killer back to his normal expression. "I'm sorry to have hurt you so badly, Henri. I lost a bit of control when you mentioned my parents. I love them a lot, and when you taunted me with how my death would hurt them, I sort of snapped. Are you okay? I hope I didn't do any permanent damage. I was trying to stop myself from going too far."

Henri coughed lightly. "It's alright, Archer. At least now I know how skilled you truly are. If you could beat me, you don't have to worry about anyone you encounter at the U-15 and U-17 level. None of those children can hold a candle to you. The challenge will be at the professional level.

Your victory was mainly due to me underestimating your knowledge and ability. That won't happen after your first match on the professional circuit. The people there won't hesitate to go for the kill. To them, the moment you step on that stage, you declare to the world that you are willing to die in battle."

Archer gave a solemn nod. This was something he had come to terms with a long time ago. Death and he were old friends, as it were.

Clearing his throat, Archer politely asked. "Henri, would you like me to take you to the hospital? You aren't looking too well."

Henri gave a small nod. Moving his neck too much hurt a lot.

With a quick Mobilicorpus, Archer levitated Henri and retrieved the emergency portkey that he always kept in his bag. Activating it, they were whisked away to Jeanne D'Arc L'Hopital, the French St. Mungo's.

After checking him in, Archer waited in the lobby until he heard that Henri was sedated to recover from his injuries. Leaving a note, he went back home and took a well-deserved break, not worrying too much about the tournament.

Henri's words proved to be correct, as he had breezed through the competition once more at the International U-15 tournament. While the caliber of his opponents was higher, and the magic they used was interesting to experience, none of them could give him a fight like the one Henri did.

His parents had beamed when he had walked over to them with the large trophy in hand. The name Alexei Romanov became very well-known after several articles came out applauding his performance in the U-15 tournaments. He had come out of nowhere as the dark horse to become the U-15 World Champion.

He had given a short interview to the reporter and mentioned that Henri would allow him to compete in the U-17 bracket next year, and that had stunned a lot of people. Several articles had come out in the later weeks that spoke of him being overconfident and too young to understand the danger. He didn't bother thinking about them, as he was sure his performance next year would be all he required to silence his critics.

By the time he went back to school, his control had improved substantially, and he was on the verge of being able to demonstrate his Mastery thesis. The paper had been reviewed by both Laura and Grandmaster Renaud. Both had given it praise as something that would really push forward the boundaries of Transfiguration.

Antonio, Louis, and Javier had been excited to see him again, seeing as he hadn't been able to host his annual birthday party due to his tournament schedule. They enjoyed their time catching up with each other at the Welcoming Feast, and all of them had congratulated upon learning he was almost ready to defend his Mastery Thesis.

When he saw Fleur the next day, he had been blown away. She had gone through her maturity over the summer and was looking even more beautiful than he remembered. She had always been exceptionally pretty, but now, there was something otherworldly about how gorgeous she was.

Even with his damn robust Occlumency shields, her allure managed to slightly affect him. It was a testament to its strength, as not even her mother's affected him as much, and she was a Coven Matriarch.

Not all things were sunshine and roses in his life though, as he was experiencing the wonders of a second go through puberty. The rituals had transformed his body into what most women would refer to as that of an Adonis. He hadn't really thought about it until the day he went to get his robes tailored.

The assistants had been so distracted throughout the measuring process and they had stared for so long it had made him slightly uncomfortable. Sabine had noticed this and rescued him but suffice to say he had gotten a first-hand look at how the girls at Beauxbatons would treat him.

As he walked the halls, he noticed the stares and whispers along with the giggles coming from the groups of girls both younger and older. He thought he had gotten used to this but found that it still felt so much like his later years in the IDSC. There, people both magical and non-magical had practically worshipped the ground he walked on. A side effect of being the most powerful wizard in the world.

Women had thrown themselves at him time and again, but his depression and issues of intimacy stemming from the deaths of his loved ones prevented him from ever taking advantage. Before he admitted to the girls in his squad how much they meant to him, he had found a good way to manage his needs.

He would choose one random girl every month and make her take a secrecy Oath before engaging in a weekend of debauchery. Both their needs would be met, and that meant his focus in the field was unaffected by any primal urges. While pragmatic and slightly dispassionate, his approach ultimately kept him on top of his game.

Knowing that most purebloods would never give up their purity before marriage, he was wondering whether he should restart his old habit to manage his raging hormones. Merlin knew it would be effective in dealing with the woes of being a teenager once more.

One thing he had talked to Laura about was testing out of classes. He wanted to explore, and do so many other things than just sit and study for subjects he already had knowledge in. She had gained the approval from Madame Maxime, so he would sit the final tests for his core subjects and a couple of elective courses. Namely, Potions, Charms, Runes, and Arithmancy.

With those subjects out of the way, he wanted to use his free time to take the many smaller courses in Estate Management, Enchanting, and Alchemy. He had never had the opportunity to really manage his holdings properly as he hadn't known of their existence until after Voldemort had started his second conquest of Britain.

While he had some competency in enchanting, he had only been taught what he needed to know. His curiosity had taken a backseat as he worked every day to improve his fighting skills. He lacked the thorough understanding of the basics to be able to not only enchant objects efficiently but also create his own custom enchantments.

One of the handiest pieces of kit he had carried were a couple of tiny metal disks. These disks had proven to be one of the most convenient and versatile weapons when it came to various targets. They were ordinary blank metal disks that could be enchanted with various runes to turn them into grenades, mines, pressure sensors to trigger traps, alert systems, and the like.

They were one of the most invaluable tools in his arsenal. Even if they had not been effective against demons, they managed to distract and slow them down. After all, taking heated metal shrapnel to the face was still somewhat painful.

The number of things that one could do with even a partial knowledge of Enchanting allowed them to fight back effectively against much larger enemy forces. He could only imagine the possibilities that a proper understanding would mean for the war effort. Not to mention, his favorite object in the world was a product of Enchanting. The broomstick.

Quidditch was also something he desperately wanted to get back into. He missed the feeling of flying. The death-defying stunts he would execute to catch the Snitch that got his adrenaline pumping. The feeling of soaring through the clouds at 180 km/h on a Firebolt. There was something about it that called to him. He wanted to play, more than anything.

Sadly, Beauxbatons did not have an established Quidditch team, as students were more focused on their academics. The odd pick-up games occurred on a weekly basis, but the skill of the players left much to be desired. The Firebolt had come out this summer, so he had ordered one for himself as a gift for winning the International tournament.

His mother had some choice words for him when he landed after his first practice flight at the chateau. He had informed them about Quidditch in the past but seeing the speed of the broom firsthand had changed their minds about the sport.

Jean had been like a kid in a candy store, comparing the broom to an F1 racing car that took real skill to maneuver. Sofia had been apoplectic and rebuked him on how every sport he participated in was extremely dangerous.

After playing a few pickup games, everyone had learned how skilled he was at playing Seeker. He was also a decent Chaser, but the position didn't allow him as much bandwidth to really do his own thing and fly as he wanted. During one of the numerous pickup games he played in, an opportunity had been thrust upon him.

A scout for the French National Quidditch Team had heard some rumors through the grapevine about him and decided to come take a look for himself. It was too good of a prospect to turn down, so he got permission from Madame Maxime and Laura to play on the National Team. They were more than willing to work with him on scheduling due to his high scores.

He started practicing with the French National team and found that he really enjoyed playing at the professional level. The competition was on a completely different level, and even though he was skilled, he had never played professionally in his previous life. Talent could only take you so far, and every person who was selected for a team practiced extremely hard to be the best.

Excited to play Quidditch again, he made sure to keep his rank high to avoid any issues from his professors. He sat his tests in the first month of his fourth year and passed all of them with flying colors. The professors unanimously said he could sit his N.E.W.T.s for all the subjects and easily pass with an O.

Madame Maxime had been pleased with his performance, so she had given him permission to take any class he wanted. Laura was more than happy to use the extra time to get his help on her research and work with him on his thesis.

So at age 14, he became one of the youngest professional Quidditch players in the world. He had trained extensively over the school year, having gotten special permission from the Headmistress to portkey to matches and training.

The French National team was at the strongest it had ever been when they went into the 1993 European Cup. The world had been shocked at his professional debut at such a young age. Many had predicted that it was just a gimmick by the French team to add new blood to their roster that drew headlines.

He had been a little miffed by their dismissal and gone on to trounce Morocco's seeker and catch the Golden Snitch in record time. That had them do an about face and start praising his skills to the moon and back. While they did very well, the team just hadn't been able to surmount the skill gap to reach the finals.

Everyone except Archer had thanked their lucky stars they hadn't faced off against the Vratsa Vultures. The talented Viktor Krum, the second youngest Seeker in the league, was their star player and even though his teammates didn't voice it, Archer knew they thought he didn't stand a chance against him.

He didn't begrudge them, as Viktor had already been playing professionally before the French National team had even reached out to him. It made sense that they thought his lack of experience would mean his loss should they face off.

With the Quidditch World Cup occurring next year, he planned on making sure that the French reach the finals at least. Should the Bulgarian team make it that far, he would prove to the world that he was the better Seeker.

Once the tournament ended, he got back to his grind. Months passed as he focused on putting the finishing touches on his Mastery Thesis and managed to get his control up to the requisite level necessary for his demonstration to the panel.

Right before the winter holidays, Laura and Renaud had accompanied him to ICW Headquarters in Switzerland to present his thesis in front of the Transfiguration Masters panel. So there he sat, in the lobby, awaiting the signal to enter the testing room.

Laura approached him with a glass of water. "Here, Archer. Take a sip of water and calm your nerves."

Archer gratefully took the glass and gulped down the water, suddenly noticing how dry his mouth had become.

He felt her hand on his shoulder. "Remember. Both Grandmaster Renaud and I have great confidence in you. We've reviewed your thesis already and it is a great one. More than adequate to attain your Mastery. Don't be intimidated by the panel and answer all their questions to the best of your ability."

He nodded along as she encouraged him. As she finished her pep talk, the door opened, and a distinguished looking middle-aged man dressed in the traditional Master's robes with the symbol of the guild on his chest leaned out from the doorway.

"Apprentice Beaufort? The panel is ready for you."

Archer got up and started making his way to the door. Abruptly, he was pulled back by Laura and engulfed in a tight hug. He returned the hug and heard her mumble into his ear.

"Good luck, Archer. No matter what happens, know that I will be proud of you regardless."

Archer gave her a bright smile and a nod before turning around and entering the chamber. Laura wasn't allowed inside, as a Master couldn't supervise their Apprentice's thesis presentation. A practice that had been put in place to preserve the judge's impartiality.

Entering the spacious room, he saw the large table set near the back, with 7 seats being occupied by the Masters and Mistresses who would be judging him. To his surprise, several members from the guild had chosen to attend his presentation as well, because of his reputation. An audience of a couple dozen sat behind the judges table, and he spotted Grandmaster Renaud in the front row.

Giving him a subtle nod, he made his way to the center of the room, confidently striding to the provided lectern at the center of the room.

The Master in the center of the judges table spoke once he reached the lectern. "Good morning, Apprentice Beaufort. My name is Senior Master LeCun, I will be judging your thesis presentation along with my colleagues. To my right, Masters Hinton, Lee, and Hassabis. To my left, Mistresses Reiley and Kozyrkov, and Master Anandkumar."

They each nodded their heads in greeting when they were named. The general feeling Archer was receiving was a hint of anticipation, but mostly boredom. From what little Laura had informed him about, several of the Masters thought he was rushing his presentation to set a record as the youngest Master in the guild's history.

Some had gone even so far as to blame Laura for being irresponsible in her mentorship for encouraging him to finish his thesis. She had told him to disregard others and focus on his own work to prove them wrong.

Seeing the judges in front of him, he felt a little angry that they would think such things. Alas, such was human nature. He would prove his merit shortly, and he couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when he did.

Taking a deep breath, he began his presentation. With a flick of his wand, the piece of chalk danced around the blackboard, swiftly noting down the key points of his talk, and illustrating the diagrams of the transformation procedure and the non-magical chemistry concepts involved. As he lectured on, he noticed a change in the panel as well as the audience.

What initially started off as them watching out of idle curiosity slowly turned into rapt attention. The judges had already been briefed on the topic beforehand, but the audience had not. The title of Non-Alchemical Material Transmutation had been enough to draw their attention, and as he expanded upon the theory, he could see them lean forward in their chairs.

These were all good indicators, but the clincher would be the actual demonstration. Proving his theory before their very eyes would go a long way in confirming that he truly deserved the coveted title of Transfiguration Master.

He finished his lecture in roughly half an hour before he walked out from behind the lectern and silently conjured a marble pedestal. While unnecessary, it gave them an idea behind how powerful he was for his age, as conjuration required a lot of energy compared to transfiguration. Marble was his go to mainly out of habit. As a solid marble wall between you and a Killing Curse was the best defense one could ask for.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he took out a small block of wood. It was a standard block of European Beech with nothing special or magical about it. He invited the judges to come closer to observe the process, and they all took him up on his offer. Them and the audience formed a semi-circle around the pedestal where he placed the wood.

Seeing as they had all settled into their positions, he spoke. "For this next part, I request for total silence, as the concentration required for the change is immense. Not to mention it might be dangerous if my concentration is disrupted midway, as the backlash of the magic would hurt everyone in the vicinity."

They all nodded their acquiescence to his requests and agreed to silently observe.

Confident that they would keep their word, Archer closed his eyes and fell into a meditative trance. He lifted his wand straight up and slowly gathered the magic needed for the change. He had practiced this repeatedly enough that it was a relatively quick process. In that it took only 3 minutes as opposed to the half hour of his first successful attempt.

Time passed as he steadily built up a clear visualization of the change he wanted to make, while also ensuring that he had the magic to start the spell. Due to the depth of the change, the backlash for losing control would be proportionate.

Influencing change at the atomic level was much harder than one would think, as reality would fight the transformation tooth and nail. The same principle applied to extremely large objects. This was why no one had attempted to go past a certain minimum or maximum size.

He built the magic up to its peak before slowly easing the channeling of energy. It was now or never. This was the moment that would define him for generations to come. His accomplishment would be one for the history books.

Archer's eyes shot open, emerald fire blazing in his eyes. With all the determination he could muster, he sharply jabbed his wand at the block of wood. The waves of magic crashed against the block, forming a slight ripple on its surface. Then, a tiny part of it turned bright silver in color.

It was roughly the size of a needle point, but the contrast between it and the surrounding wood made it distinctive to all those who were carefully watching. Within seconds, the pinprick of silver slowly grew bigger, as it spread across the block. A minute later, the block glittered under the lighting of the room.

What was once a plain, unassuming block of wood, was now a solid block of silver. The judges went crazy, marveling at the result. Senior Master LeCun, who had a familiarity with Alchemy, cast several spells to get a reading on the material and whether it was truly silver.

The special part about the spells, was that they wouldn't be fooled by transfigurations. In Archer's case, due to the depth of the change, he had effectively turned the block of wood into pure silver. Although, the change was still temporary, unlike true Transmutation which was permanent. The upside was that the change would last an extremely long time, and not be affected by the object breaking.

The only thing that could potentially change the object back, was time, or a strong enough disruption that would jolt the magic enough for reality to fight against and force it back to its natural state. The amount of energy it would take to do that, however, would be substantial.

LeCun spoke up after he and the other judges finished their tests. "Thank you very much for the enlightening demonstration, Apprentice Beaufort. Please go outside and wait while we converse and finalize our decision."

Archer thanked him for his time and walked out of the room with a grin on his face. He knew he had done well. After proving his theory firsthand, there was no way the panel would choose to not grant the title of Master to him.

Laura saw his smile and almost squealed in excitement. She ran towards him and hugged him while jumping up and down in glee. It was at times like these that he was reminded of exactly how young she was. While she always did her utmost to maintain a professional bearing, there were certain instances where he got a glimpse of the young woman underneath the façade.

After talking to her about how well his presentation went for barely 2 minutes, he was invited back into the chamber. This time, Laura accompanied him. They entered the room, and Archer knew their decision when he saw the broad smile on Renaud's face.

Taking his place at the center of the room, Laura stood next to him in her official guild robes with the insignia and her rank visible for all to see.

LeCun smiled as he greeted him. "Welcome back, Apprentice Beaufort. Before I inform you of our final decision, allow me to say a few words. When I heard that you were scheduled to present your thesis to us today, I was startled when I read up on your background.

We have had our fair share of Apprentices who rushed to gain their Mastery and gave lackluster demonstrations and unoriginal theories that made no discernible contribution to the field whatsoever. In all honesty, I was expecting a similar performance from yourself given your young age.

However, to my absolute joy, that was not the case today. You have put forth an extremely original and applicable thesis project that will undoubtedly make waves among the transfiguration community around the world. The clarity of thought and the demonstration you have shown us made our decision an easy one.

So it is my honor and pleasure, on behalf of the Transfiguration Masters Guild, to hereby promote you to the rank of Master. My heartiest congratulations, Master Beaufort."

At that point, Renaud got up and walked towards them. Taking a small item out of his robe pocket, a wandless Engorgio made it regain size. It was a plain white box, with no discernible markings.

Archer looked from the item to Renaud in curiosity. With a small flourish, Renaud opened the box, displaying its contents to both him and Laura. Archer gasped lightly as he saw the deep black silk robes with gold edging. Laura walked over and solemnly took it out of the box, folding out the robes to show its full length.

She signaled him to lift his arms. He felt her slip the sleeves on his arms and adjusted the front of the robes. Coming back up front, she buttoned the 7 buttons on the front of the robes from the bottom up. Meanwhile, Renaud retrieved a shiny black lacquer box from his robes and undid the clasp before opening it.

Nestled in the velvet fabric was the badge he had been working for over the past couple of years. On it was a golden shield with two crossed wands. It was the badge that signified his rank of Transfiguration Master.

Laura took out the pin with care and separated the two pieces. With slow and deliberate flourishes, she straightened out the right collar of his robes before pinning the badge onto it. Readjusting the collar, she stepped back and held out her hand.

"Congratulations, Master Beaufort. You have made me very proud today, and I have no doubt that you will accomplish many more things in the future. I look forward to working with you in the years to come."

Archer smiled. It was a bittersweet moment for him, as now, Laura would no longer be considered his Mistress. He was now a Master himself. She could no longer act in a capacity as his teacher, as they were now of equal standing.

Still, going by the proud look on her face, he knew that while his status may have changed, she would always be there to help him if he needed it. Just like he would be for her.

"Thank you, Mistress Thebault. I look forward to working with you on some joint research projects in the future."

She nodded back and they both turned to face the panel and the audience, who were now on their feet. Master LeCun started the applause with slow claps, which eventually grew to a resounding ovation as the audience cheered the addition of their newest and youngest member.

After a brief applause, he thanked each of the judges individually and mingled with the crowd. Now that he was a member of the guild, he was expected to interact with his colleagues and build working relationships with them. There was a good chance he might end up working with one of them in the future, so having a passing familiarity would help in that regard.

After a couple of hours of networking, he decided to call it a day and returned to Beauxbatons with Laura and Grandmaster Renaud. Arriving in the portkey reception area, they immediately made their way to the Headmistresses office.

He was greeted by the stunned faces of his fellow students as they watched him march alongside the school's Transfiguration professors. The telltale black Master robes informed them of what happened. Many hightailed it to gossip about him to their friends, or so he assumed from the numerous blushing faces.

Madame Maxime was beaming with pride when she saw him in his new robes, offering her heartiest congratulations for his monumental achievement. He accepted the praise with grace and asked her for permission to finish his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams for the subjects he had tested out of.

She was initially a little worried, thinking he might be applying for early graduation, seeing as he would have the requisite scores, but he allayed her fears by mentioning that he was still interested in studying at the school. He specifically cited helping Laura with her research as a primary reason to stay enrolled.

The fame he had gained due to his burgeoning Quidditch career was bringing Beauxbatons a lot of international attention, his latest accomplishment would serve to bring even more. Who knows, maybe more parents would send their kids here seeing how successful he turned out.

It was something Maxime was already planning on doing to promote the school, but him extending her that courtesy made it look like he was doing her a favor. Being the consummate politician, she realized exactly what he was up to, but accepted nonetheless, knowing that he wouldn't be outrageous in his requests. They both left that meeting happy at the outcome.

His roommates had received the news before his arrival at the dorm and had gotten together with many people in their year to throw a celebratory party. He was touched at their thoughtfulness and made sure to thank everyone for attending. Many upper years had arrived to join in the celebrations and congratulate him on his new status as Master.

After conversing and chatting with all of them, he retired to his room and packed his things for the next morning's trip home. They parted ways in the living room, as Louis had decided to stay at school while the others left.

Arriving home, he was greeted by a warm hug from his mother and a proud look from his father. He had informed them of his successful thesis presentation, and they had gushed about how proud they were. After retiring for the night, he laid in bed, and felt a sense of contentment.

He had accomplished so many things in his short life, and he would only strive to learn more. For once, thoughts of war and planning were not on his mind. He wasn't concerned about Voldemort, or any of his flunkies.

The weight of the world wasn't crushing down on his shoulders. He was just someone who had worked hard and earned something he rightfully deserved. It wasn't awarded to him due to some dint of birth, or reputation. He had slogged and put in the effort and had been rewarded for it.

'Is this how my life would have been like with my parents?'

It was one of many what ifs that tended to crop up every now and then. Would James and Lily have been like Jean and Sofia? Would they be proud of him for his accomplishment?

He loved so much about his new life and felt blessed that he could enjoy it as much as he did. It still didn't take away from the many failures he suffered in his old one. Despite the Dursley's beatings and ravings, he had overcome it all. He had gone from the battered and shy boy who grew up in a dark cupboard to one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the world.

He had experienced the highs and lows of what life had to offer, and while he loathed the fact that his victory had been pyrrhic, the satisfaction of ending Voldemort had been enough to appease him. He had felt the joys of love and heartache of loss. Even with all of that, he had stayed the course, fighting for a better tomorrow for all of humanity.

He went to sleep that night, truly satisfied, without a care in the world. The time for worrying would come later. It was time for him to enjoy his life to the fullest. Merlin knew he could use a vacation.