Taming the True Fire (HP)

'A counter-curse is most effective when whispered, as louder incantations can accidentally strengthen the original curse.'

Carsilion Egbert stared down at the parchment before him, his gaze catching on the name scrawled at the top. He let out a long, exasperated sigh. Tullia Parkinson. Of course. He knew some students were more captivated by curses than counter-curses, but the sheer level of foolishness displayed in this essay was staggering.

He glanced at the teetering pile of ungraded papers and let out a hiss of irritation. At least five better ways to spend the evening sprang to mind—none of which involved confronting the sobering reality that certain people simply refused to pay attention.

'I wonder what Minerva's up to at the moment.' – the man mused, his heart rate quickening as images filled his mind—ones far from suitable for work. With a sigh, he grabbed another parchment, resigning himself to the thought that she was probably grading papers just like him. The Deputy Headmistress never abandoned her duties, no matter how much he might beg.

'Maybe she'd reconsider if I got on my knees.' – he thought, unable to suppress a smirk at what he could do from that position.

His eyes wandered back to the essay. "When performing a counter-curse, it's crucial to match the intensity of the original spell to fully negate its effects." - he muttered, raising an eyebrow. 'Wait, what?' - he blinked at the parchment, double-checking the name – 'What on earth possessed her to write that?'

A loud crack of Apparition made the Marquise nearly fall from his chair, his hand darting for the wand resting on the desk.

"Are you fucking insane?!" – he yelled – "I could've hexed your head off! Who Apparates into someone's office without warning?"

"Don't be such a drama queen! It's Hogwarts! Nobody can Apparate here but me!" – replied Duke Edward McMahon, settling into the armchair opposite his friend's desk.

"When someone just pops out of thin air, one tends to react on instinct." – Carsilion scoffed, pouting.

"And when that someone is the First Guardian, he ought to be better at assessing the situation before acting on instinct." – the other wizard retorted with a smirk, eyeing the papers in front of him – "Are you still working? I guess your new friend who you refuse to discuss with me has quite a positive influence on you."

"I'm still working because these essays don't have the courtesy to correct and grade themselves." – the Marquise said sarcastically – "And I would've been done ages ago if they weren't riddled with errors."

The Duke casually snatched the paper his friend was grading, scanning it quickly. His brow furrowed as he read. "Is this Catherine's? That's... not great."

"Tell me about it." – Carsilion growled, taking the parchment back.

"Should I be concerned?" – the blond man asked seriously – "Judging by her final grades, I thought she had no trouble with schoolwork."

"She doesn't." – the DADA teacher sighed – "Knowing her, she probably did this on purpose just to torment me. It's not a secret how much I hate grading this stuff."

"I'm being serious, Carter!" – the Duke insisted – "She doesn't open up to us about anything. If it weren't for you and Greg, I'd have no clue what my daughter is going through. I'm constantly worried she's being bullied or that those bastards attacking Muggle-borns might try to harm her."

"I don't know why you think your daughter is so easily harmed." – the Marquise shrugged off his friend's anxiety – "She's not someone you can mess with, and everyone knows it. Plus, she's got an entire entourage ready to defend her at a moment's notice."

"Then why did she almost burn my study during the holidays?" – the other wizard asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice – "I thought she had a great time with her friends over Christmas. So it probably means she's stressed about something else at school, isn't she?"

"I don't know. Maybe she was just annoyed with you." – Carsilion replied with a smirk.

"It's not funny!" – Edward snapped – "It was a powerful outburst, and I'm certain she also used some amount of true fire. Do you realise how dangerous that is?!"

"Still quite impressive." – the Marquise mumbled thoughtfully – "I was just thinking the other day—there hasn't been a Fire Mage among the aristocracy for over seventy years. I believe the last one was Lauren's grandfather, and he was a Salamander-type."

"True." - the Duke nodded - "Though, from what I've heard, he was still exceptionally powerful, easily matching some of the other Heads of Houses. If Dumbledore is right and Catherine is a Phoenix type, it's going to be a huge deal. The Whiters would have a hard time justifying the killing of a Fire Mage after so many years without one in the main families."

"That's what I expect." – Carsilion nodded – "I hope you'll have better luck with them than I've had with Duke Prince."

"Still no word from him?" – the other wizard raised an eyebrow – "That's unusual. You're the First Guardian! You should be able to talk to the Head of the Council."

"I'm the First Guardian in name only. Not my fault no one can beat me in a duel." - the auburn-haired man grumbled - "Last time I pushed for a meeting, I was told Alexander wasn't feeling well and wouldn't see anyone for the foreseeable future."

"This is really concerning." - Edward rubbed his eyes, sighing - "I hoped we could make some progress with him before I meet with Lovett. They're a tough nut to crack without the right incentive."

"I do what I can." – the Marquise stated defensively – "Honestly, I'm a bit hurt. It's not pleasant when your own Master of Air ignores you. I thought we had a stronger bond."

"In times like this, I'm glad my Master of Water was my father." – the Duke replied with a smile – "Saved me from a lot of complications and disappointments."

"Hah!" - Carsilion laughed bitterly - "I would've hated having my father teach me. Thank Merlin he's a Water Mage. Actually, I remembered something interesting recently. My father was Eileen Prince's Master of Water. I vaguely recall seeing her at home during the holidays, but I never paid her much attention. Plus, I'm pretty sure I wasn't aware of who she was back then. As you know, I was busy avoiding my father and everything related to him."

"Well, it's not that surprising." - the other wizard noted - "Your father used to be the First Guardian. It's plausible that Alexander asked him to help train the Prince heiress."

"I suppose." – the Marquise agreed – "Though I imagine it would've been tricky with her being away during the school year."

"I wonder if she ever mastered using the soul of water before running away." - Edward mused - "Speaking of which, I'd better go. Greg's probably waiting for me. I want to start teaching him some basic attack techniques tonight. You never know when he might need them."

"No time for a drink?" – Carsilion asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice as he glanced at the pile of ungraded essays on his desk.

"Not tonight, sorry." – his friend grinned apologetically – "But I'll make it up to you! Louisa and I are heading to Paris for Valentine's Day. So how about drinks and dinner the weekend after we're back?"

"It's going to be Quidditch weekend then. I can't." – the DADA teacher sighed – "There's always a lot of work and rule-breaking after a match."

"Oh, right!" – Edward exclaimed, his expression darkening slightly – "I wish I could see Catherine fly. I was a bit surprised when she wanted to join the team."

"She's quite good." – the Marquise confirmed with a hint of pride – "If I didn't knew any better, I'd think she was an Air Mage."

"That would have saved me a lot of Galleons on a broom." – the other wizard laughed – "In any case, enjoy your Valentine's Day, and don't forget to drink plenty of water. I don't want my best friend falling ill from... over-celebration."

"That's rather rich, coming from you." – the DADA professor chuckled – "Don't worry. My friend and I will have to pace ourselves since we have teaching duties we have to fulfil."

"Don't get touchy! I'm just teasing." – the Duke smiled – "I'm genuinely happy for you, and I hope to meet Minerva sooner rather than later. I'm curious how she managed to capture the heart of high society's most notorious bachelor."

"I'm not in love with her!" – Carsilion shouted, but Edward had already disapparated, his laughter still echoing in the room.