The God of Valor

Viggo stood tall, the newly gifted longbow cradled reverently in his hands, its smooth sinew and bone gleaming in the sunlight. The crowd's cheers still echoed faintly in the distance, but his attention was drawn to the group of contestants approaching him. Each face reflected awe and admiration, though their individual personalities shone through in their reactions.

"Viggo!" Haraldr was the first to reach him, clapping a firm hand on his shoulder, his wide grin radiating excitement. "That bow—look at it! Odin himself couldn't have chosen a worthier warrior. You were incredible out there, truly. It's like watching Ullr's blood come to life."

Viggo chuckled, a humble smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thank you, Haraldr. Coming from you, that means a lot."

Neville stepped forward next, his handshake firm but warm. "Seriously, mate, that was something else. I've always thought archery was just pointing and shooting, but you… you make it look like an art form. The focus, the skill—it's inspiring."

"Thanks, Neville," Viggo replied, his expression softening at the earnest compliment. "But don't sell yourself short. I've seen you with a sword—you've got the makings of a legend yourself."

Draco, hanging back a little, folded his arms and raised a brow, his signature smirk making its inevitable appearance. "Well, I can't say I didn't see this coming. You've got talent, Viggo. But don't get too comfortable up there. Maybe one day I'll show you what real skill looks like in a duel."

The group groaned collectively, but Viggo only laughed. "I'd like to see you try, Malfoy. Maybe we'll see who's the better shot—though I'm guessing you'd be more concerned about how good you look holding the bow."

Draco opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by Luna, who floated into the conversation like a warm summer breeze. "Oh, Viggo, it's beautiful!" she said, her wide, sparkling eyes fixed on the bow. "The craftsmanship is stunning, don't you think? I bet it hums when you draw it, like it's alive. Do you think it might be part Crumple-Horned Snorkack?"

Viggo blinked, momentarily at a loss, before nodding as if it were a genuine possibility. "You know, Luna, I hadn't thought of that, but… maybe? It does have a kind of hum to it."

"That's how you know it's special," Luna said with a knowing smile.

Susan, standing beside Luna, shook her head with a fond laugh, her coppery hair catching the light. "Congratulations, Viggo," she said, her tone full of warmth. "It's not every day someone gets a gift from Odin himself. You've earned it, and I can't wait to see you use it."

Astrid, Bjorn, and Sigrun joined in next, their familial bond evident in the way they stood together. Astrid's eyes gleamed as she examined the bow. "That's a weapon fit for a saga," she said, her voice lilting with excitement. "You better be ready for everyone to sing your name in the halls."

Bjorn clapped Viggo on the back, his laughter booming. "If you weren't already insufferably good, now you've got this? No excuses next time we spar—I'll expect to see that bow in action!"

"Just try not to make him too cocky," Sigrun added with a smirk. "Although, with a bow like that, I guess he's earned it."

Even Leif, quiet but ever-supportive, stepped forward, his grin sincere. "It suits you, Viggo. You've got the heart for it. Make us proud."

The group continued to chatter excitedly, each of them admiring the bow and sharing stories about the competition. Viggo's laughter was warm and easy as he took in the camaraderie of the moment, but across the arena, a different scene unfolded.

Skadi stood at a distance, her arms crossed as her piercing gaze lingered not on Viggo, but on Haraldr. Her icy composure barely masked the flicker of envy in her eyes, though it wasn't for Viggo's victory. She watched the way Haraldr spoke with ease, his confidence and charisma drawing the others in like moths to a flame.

"I'll prove it," she murmured under her breath, her voice a quiet vow. "To him. To all of them."

Her hand clenched into a fist, the determination in her heart as unyielding as the frozen fjords she called home. Skadi turned away from the gathering, already planning her next move, her next shot at glory.

Back at the center of the group, Viggo caught sight of her retreating figure and frowned slightly, but before he could dwell on it, Haraldr clapped him on the back again. "Come on, Champion. There's feasting to be done, and I'm starving. Unless you're too good to eat with us now?"

"Not a chance," Viggo replied with a grin. "Let's go."

Together, they headed toward the hall, their voices carrying on the wind, the warmth of their camaraderie lighting the path ahead. Skadi, from her distant perch, watched them go, the fire in her heart only burning brighter.

—

Haraldr's gaze swept over the gathering crowd, but despite the sea of faces, one was conspicuously missing. A faint frown tugged at his lips as he turned to Neville, who was standing beside him, looking every bit the reliable friend he'd proven to be time and again.

"Neville, have you seen Skadi?" Haraldr asked, his voice low but tinged with concern. His eyes continued scanning the field, searching for the Asgardian Goddess of Winter.

Neville furrowed his brow, thoughtful as ever. "Skadi? No, I haven't seen her since the end of the archery contest. Maybe she needed a moment to herself?"

Haraldr nodded slowly, though a part of him itched to find her. He respected Skadi's independence but he also wanted to tell her how impressed he'd been by her performance. "If you see her, let me know. There's something I'd like to say to her before the next round."

Neville gave a reassuring smile, his sincerity shining through. "I'll keep an eye out. You've got a knack for lifting spirits, Haraldr. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

Haraldr cleared his throat, turning back to the group clustered around Viggo, who was still the center of attention with his magnificent new longbow. Stepping into their midst, Haraldr raised his voice, commanding the kind of attention that came naturally to him.

"Friends," he began, his tone warm and inviting, "what a day it's been! This tournament has tested our skill, our resolve, and our spirit. But more than anything, it's been a chance to meet people we'd otherwise never have crossed paths with."

Draco scoffed softly, crossing his arms, but the amused smirk playing on his lips betrayed his interest. "Is this the part where you tell us we're all one big happy family now?"

"Only if you're ready to admit you're part of that family, Malfoy," Haraldr shot back with a grin, earning a ripple of laughter from the group.

"I'm considering it," Draco drawled, tilting his head as though weighing the decision. "But don't expect me to braid anyone's hair or sing Kumbaya."

Luna, standing nearby with a dreamy smile, tilted her head at Draco. "I think you'd look quite nice with braids, Draco. Very regal. Maybe with a touch of starwort tucked in."

Susan giggled, her coppery hair gleaming in the sunlight as she nudged Luna playfully. "Only you, Luna, could suggest Malfoy accessorize with flowers."

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Hannah, ever the peacemaker, stepped in, her soft voice carrying surprising weight. "Don't listen to him, Haraldr. What you're saying makes sense. I've always thought it's the connections we make that truly matter, not just who wins or loses."

Haraldr smiled warmly at her before addressing the group again. "Exactly. When we suggested this tournament to the All-Father, it wasn't just about testing our skills. It was about meeting people from different realms and forging bonds that could last beyond this arena."

He extended his hand toward Astrid, Bjorn, Sigrun, Leif, and Viggo, his gaze steady and sincere. "So, to all of you, I extend a hand of friendship. Let's not just be competitors, but allies—friends—supporting each other through this tournament and whatever comes after. What do you say?"

Astrid was the first to step forward, her bright blue eyes shining with resolve. She clasped Haraldr's hand firmly, her grip steady and confident. "I say we'd be fools not to accept. You've got a good heart, Haraldr, and I, for one, would be proud to call you a friend."

Leif followed, his broad shoulders squared as he grinned. "Agreed. We might be competing, but that doesn't mean we can't have each other's backs. Besides, I'd rather stand with someone like you than against you."

Sigrun hesitated, her vibrant red hair catching the light as she studied Haraldr's outstretched hand. For a moment, her sharp gaze softened, and she stepped forward, clasping his hand. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper but laced with genuine gratitude.

Bjorn's grin was infectious as he stepped into the circle, his red hair a fiery halo in the sunlight. "Friends it is, then!" he declared, his deep voice booming with enthusiasm. "But don't think I'll go easy on you when the next round comes!"

Viggo was the last to step forward. His tall, imposing frame radiated quiet strength as he clasped Haraldr's hand. "I accept," he said simply, his blue eyes meeting Haraldr's with an intensity that spoke of mutual respect.

With their hands joined, the group formed a circle, their bond solidified by their shared experiences. Laughter and smiles spread among them, the weight of competition momentarily forgotten as friendship took root.

As they stood together, Haraldr couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The challenges ahead would test not just their skills but their newfound camaraderie. And though Skadi's absence still lingered at the back of his mind, he knew one thing for certain—they would face whatever came next as allies, united by purpose and friendship.

—

As the exhilaration from the archery competition still buzzed in the air, Algrim stepped forward once again, his commanding presence silencing the crowd. His deep, resonant voice carried effortlessly across the grounds, drawing every eye toward him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Algrim began, his tone rich with gravitas and anticipation, "it is now time for the next event in our grand tournament: the Obstacle Race!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, the energy palpable. Algrim allowed the applause to crescendo before raising a hand, quieting them once more with a confident smile that promised excitement and challenge.

"This will not be a test for the faint-hearted," Algrim continued, pacing deliberately, his dark armor gleaming under the midday sun. "What lies ahead is a trial of your agility, strength, focus, and endurance. To succeed, you must call upon every ounce of courage and determination within you." His piercing gaze swept over the competitors, lingering on each for a moment as though assessing their resolve.

Algrim turned toward the course, gesturing grandly to the first obstacle. "We begin with the Bifrost Bridge Sprint!" His voice rang with authority, and the rainbow-like structure shimmered in the sunlight. "Speed and precision are your allies here. The bridge may dazzle, but do not let its beauty distract you. One misstep, one slip, and you'll find yourself in the waters below!"

Luna tilted her head as she observed the Bifrost Bridge, her blue eyes dreamy yet curious. "It's like running on a rainbow. Do you think it hums when you step on it? I imagine it would sound like a symphony of starlight."

"Only you could turn a death-defying sprint into poetry," Susan quipped, her copper hair catching the light as she grinned. "I just hope it doesn't hum too much. Might be hard to concentrate with all that celestial noise."

Algrim's stern expression softened ever so slightly at their exchange before he moved on, gesturing toward the next obstacle. "Behold the Frost Giant's Ice Wall!" A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as they took in the towering structure of glistening ice. "Here, your strength and endurance will be tested as you scale this imposing barrier. The ice is slick, the cold bites at your flesh, and the winds howl like an angry god. Only the strong will conquer it!"

"Piece of cake," Bjorn declared, cracking his knuckles and grinning. His fiery red hair practically gleamed as he squared his shoulders. "I've climbed worse walls in my sleep!"

Astrid rolled her eyes, her golden hair framing her face like a warrior's halo. "Just don't fall on anyone, Bjorn. You're big enough to cause a small earthquake."

"I'll aim for Malfoy, then," Bjorn teased, earning a withering glare from Draco.

Algrim's booming voice continued, unfazed by the banter. "Next, you will face the Winding Path of Illusions!" He swept a hand toward the shifting maze of twisting corridors, its walls flickering like mirages. "Here, your mind will be your greatest weapon—or your greatest weakness. The path will shift and twist, playing tricks on your senses. Stay focused, trust your instincts, and remember: not all that you see is real."

Neville swallowed nervously, adjusting his grip on his wand. "Great. Just what I need—more things trying to mess with my head."

"Don't worry, Neville," Hannah said softly, her voice soothing. "You've got this. Just remember to take it one step at a time."

Algrim's gaze darkened as he turned toward the next challenge. "And then comes the Serpent's Pit!" He motioned toward a deep chasm spanned by a precariously narrow bridge. "The bridge is thin, the wind is treacherous, and below lies an abyss that even the bravest dare not face. One false move, one hesitation, and you will fall."

"Fantastic," Draco drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because what's a tournament without a life-threatening chasm?"

"You're welcome to sit this one out, Malfoy," Viggo said, his voice calm but with a hint of challenge. The tall, broad-shouldered archer adjusted the grip on his bow, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the bridge. "But I wouldn't mind seeing if you can keep your balance without your usual dramatics."

Draco sneered but said nothing, though his jaw tightened in response.

Finally, Algrim gestured toward the finale. "And at last, you will face the Trials of Valhalla!" His voice rose, carrying the weight of finality and triumph. The crowd murmured in awe as they beheld the series of physical challenges ahead—massive weights to lift, pillars to leap between, and flaming rings to dive through. "This is where legends are made. Only the strongest, the bravest, and the most determined will succeed. Prove your worth, and Valhalla itself will echo your name!"

Algrim stepped back, his imposing figure looming over the contestants as his piercing gaze settled on them. "Prepare yourselves," he commanded, his tone sharp as steel. "This is not merely a race—it is a trial of your very spirit. Now, contestants, to the starting line!"

The competitors moved to their positions, some with determined expressions, others masking nervous energy with bravado. Haraldr took a deep breath, steadying himself as the crowd roared with anticipation. The obstacle race was about to begin, and the stakes had never felt higher.

—

The starting line buzzed with anticipation, a symphony of tense breaths, shuffling feet, and barely restrained adrenaline. Haraldr, Neville, Draco, Luna, Leif, Sigrun, and the others stood shoulder-to-shoulder, their expressions a kaleidoscope of emotions: nerves, determination, excitement, and, in Draco's case, barely veiled disdain for the mud under his boots.

Susan Bones adjusted her headband, her auburn hair gleaming in the sun as she bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. "Alright, team," she said, her voice cheerful but edged with resolve, "remember: deep breaths, confident strides, and try not to get frostbite. I just got over a cold, and I'd really prefer not to go back to the infirmary."

"Frostbite is the least of our worries," Draco muttered, brushing an imaginary speck of dirt off his sleeve. His cool blue eyes scanned the obstacles ahead with a mixture of disdain and apprehension. "That ice wall is clearly a death trap. Honestly, is this a race or some twisted survival test?"

Hannah Abbott shot him a look, her soft features set in uncharacteristic determination. "If you're scared, Malfoy, you could always sit this one out. I'm sure no one will notice." Her tone was sweet, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her teasing.

"Scared?" Draco scoffed, standing straighter and flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of this? Please. I'm just concerned for the rest of you. Someone has to look out for the slower competitors."

"Is that what you're calling yourself now?" Neville Longbottom quipped, surprising even himself with the bold retort. His grin was crooked but endearing, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

Draco's smirk faltered for a moment before he replied, "I'm going to enjoy watching you fall into the Serpent's Pit, Longbottom."

Luna Lovegood tilted her head, her silvery-blonde hair catching the light as she studied the scene with dreamy curiosity. "I think the Serpent's Pit sounds quite fascinating," she said, her voice airy and melodic. "I wonder if there are actual serpents down there. If they're venomous, maybe we could name them. I've always thought 'Zippy' would be a good name for a snake."

Leif chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking as he adjusted his wrist wraps. "Zippy the venomous snake? That's adorable, Luna." His deep voice was warm, his confidence evident as he added, "But let's focus on not meeting any snakes today, yeah?"

"Unless they're dinner," Bjorn interjected with a wide grin, his fiery red hair and beard making him look like a Norse god come to life. He pounded his fists together, the sound echoing like a war drum. "I'll cross that pit and wrestle any serpents waiting at the bottom!"

Astrid, her golden braid swinging as she stretched, shot him a playful glare. "And then I'll have to pull you out of the pit, Bjorn. Try not to ruin my race strategy with your theatrics."

"I'd never ruin your strategy, Astrid," Bjorn replied with mock solemnity. "Unless it involves me winning, of course."

Sigrun rolled her eyes, the fiery-haired warrior flexing her fingers as she examined the Frost Giant's Ice Wall in the distance. "Enough chatter. The race hasn't even started, and already you sound like a flock of bickering ravens." Her emerald-green eyes gleamed with focus. "Save your breath for the climb."

Up in the stands, Skadi sat perched like a queen surveying her domain. Her dark brown eyes, sharp and thoughtful, were locked on Haraldr. Though her face remained composed, the slight tilt of her head and the way her fingers tapped the armrest betrayed her keen interest.

"Skadi," a companion whispered beside her, "do you think he'll win?"

She didn't look away from Haraldr. "He has the strength. Whether he has the focus remains to be seen." Her lips curved into a faint smile, as if amused by some private thought.

At the front of the crowd, Algrim raised his hand, and silence rippled outward like a tide. His tall, imposing figure radiated authority, his rich baritone slicing through the anticipation. "Contestants!" he called, his dark eyes gleaming with a challenge that seemed to weigh each participant. "This is your moment. Prove your worth."

His voice grew louder, carrying over the crowd. "On your marks..."

The contestants tensed, muscles coiling like springs.

"Get set..."

A collective breath was held, the air thick with anticipation.

"GO!"

At Algrim's thunderous command, the racers exploded forward, their feet pounding against the ground. Susan dashed ahead, her movements precise and graceful. "Catch me if you can, Malfoy!" she called over her shoulder, laughing.

Draco narrowed his eyes and surged forward. "You'll regret that, Bones!"

Luna trailed slightly behind, her pace serene as she murmured, "Zippy would like this breeze, I think," before picking up speed with surprising agility.

Neville gritted his teeth, determination etched across his face. "Don't look back. Just keep going," he muttered, focusing on the shimmering Bifrost Bridge ahead.

Bjorn barreled forward like a charging bull, laughing heartily. "This is going to be fun!"

Leif kept close behind him, his steps steady and calculated, while Sigrun and Astrid darted ahead, their movements swift and agile.

The crowd roared as the race began in earnest, their cheers mingling with the booming laughter of Algrim. "Let the true test begin!" he declared, his voice ringing with pride and excitement.

—

The thunderous roar of the crowd echoed as the contestants surged forward, each determined to conquer the shimmering Bifrost Bridge Sprint and prove their mettle.

Haraldr led the charge, his powerful strides eating up the distance as if the very ground propelled him forward. He turned his head slightly, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he called out, "Keep up if you can! I didn't come here to jog!"

Behind him, Neville surprised everyone—including himself—with his agility. His normally cautious demeanor had melted away, replaced by a determination that made his steps swift and sure. "I'm right behind you, Haraldr," Neville muttered under his breath, his brow furrowed in concentration as he closed the gap. "Let's see who's really got the stamina."

Draco Malfoy, however, wasn't about to let anyone outshine him. Slipping into his familiar smugness, he assessed the rainbow bridge ahead, eyes scanning for even the slightest uneven patch. "Pathetic," he muttered, sidestepping a slower competitor with fluid precision. "Honestly, it's like you lot have never run before."

"Careful, Draco," Susan Bones called from behind him, her auburn hair streaming as she darted forward with surprising speed. "Wouldn't want you to trip over all that ego!" She grinned, her tone teasing but lighthearted.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Bones," Draco drawled back without missing a beat. "Worry about your pace. It's dreadfully average." But the flush of annoyance in his cheeks betrayed her success in rattling him.

Luna Lovegood was, as always, in a world of her own—but that didn't mean she wasn't keeping up. Her silver-blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight as she bounded forward with effortless grace, her movements more akin to a dancer's than a racer's. She hummed a soft tune under her breath, then looked up at the dazzling hues of the bridge. "I wonder if it feels different to run on rainbow light," she mused aloud, skipping past a stumbling competitor. "Like running on a dream. Don't you think, Viggo?"

Viggo, muscled and focused, glanced at her briefly before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Whatever you say, Lovegood," he replied, his deep voice laced with amusement. With his arms pumping and strides measured, he kept a steady pace, making it clear he was in no hurry to burn out before the real challenges began. "But I'm more concerned about making it to that ice wall."

Hannah Abbott, her usual softness replaced with quiet determination, surged forward beside him. "Let her dream, Viggo," she said, offering Luna a supportive smile. "It's good for morale. Besides, someone's got to make this fun."

"You mean I'm making this fun," Bjorn boomed, his deep laughter echoing across the course. The towering red-haired warrior charged forward like a storm, his heavy boots somehow finding perfect rhythm on the slick surface. "Let's see who can keep up with me!"

"Careful you don't slip, Bjorn!" Astrid called from beside him, her golden braid flying as she matched his pace stride for stride. Her movements were sharp and calculated, her eyes scanning the course ahead. "I won't carry you when you fall!"

"I won't fall," Bjorn shot back with a grin. "But thanks for the concern, little sister."

"Not your sister," Astrid retorted, though there was a smile playing on her lips as she overtook him.

At the rear of the pack, Leif gritted his teeth, his muscles straining as he pushed himself harder. His inexperience showed in his uneven pace, but his determination was undeniable. "Focus, Leif," he muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his brow as he powered forward. "You're not getting left behind."

Sigrun, meanwhile, was a force of nature. Her fiery red hair whipped around her face as she surged ahead, her expression set with fierce determination. "Move!" she barked at a competitor who had stumbled in her path, her emerald-green eyes blazing. With a powerful leap, she cleared the gap and landed solidly, not breaking stride.

As the contestants neared the end of the Bifrost Bridge Sprint, Haraldr maintained his lead, though the others were hot on his heels. Susan and Neville were neck and neck, their competitive spirits driving them forward, while Draco and Luna moved with calculated precision and fluid grace. Bjorn's booming laughter mixed with Astrid's sharp commands as they barreled ahead, while Sigrun and Viggo cut through the crowd like blades.

From his vantage point, Algrim watched the chaos unfold, his booming laugh rising above the noise. "Impressive!" he declared, his voice carrying over the roaring spectators. "But the race is just the beginning, my friends. Let's see how you fare against ice and illusions!"

The finish line for the first obstacle loomed ahead, and the real race was about to begin.

—

The stands buzzed with energy as the crowd leaned forward, riveted by the race unfolding below. Among the spectators, Sirius Black sat on the edge of his seat, his dark, windswept hair framing a face alight with pride and excitement. His sharp features softened with a rare tenderness as he followed every move Haraldr made. "That's my godson," Sirius said, his voice brimming with a mix of pride and disbelief. "Did you see that leap? Merlin's beard, he makes it look easy."

Amelia Bones, seated beside him, gave a small, approving nod, her steady gaze fixed on the track. Her elegant posture and composed demeanor, however, could not hide the faint curl of a smile tugging at her lips. "He's got your flair for dramatics, Black," she teased, her voice warm yet sharp as a blade. "But the skill? That's all Lily. Or should I say Eirlys?"

At the mention of her name, Eirlys—once Lily Potter, now known by her Asgardian name—turned slightly from her spot a few rows ahead. Dressed in a flowing green and gold cloak that shimmered faintly in the light, her auburn hair gleamed as she cheered loudly. "Go, Haraldr! That's it, sweetheart!" she called, her voice carrying over the din of the crowd. Her emerald eyes sparkled with pride, tears threatening to well up as she clutched the edge of her seat. "Look at him, Amelia," she said, turning briefly. "He's everything James ever dreamed he'd be—and more."

Amelia's smile widened as she glanced at Eirlys. "And everything you've raised him to be," she replied firmly. "Don't sell yourself short."

Further down the row, Volstagg sat with his immense frame squeezed into a chair that looked far too small for him, his booming laughter filling the air as he slapped his knee. "That's my girl, Sigrun!" he bellowed, his red beard shaking as he leaned forward, his eyes alight with pride. "Show them what it means to be Asgardian!" His wife, Gudrun, sat beside him, her demeanor far calmer, though her hands clapped enthusiastically. "She's unstoppable," Gudrun said, her soft voice tinged with pride. "Our Sigrun has always been fierce, but look at her now, Volstagg."

Volstagg turned to her, his grin wide. "Aye, fierce like her mother," he said with a wink. Then he gestured toward the course, where Bjorn was barreling through the obstacles. "And look at Bjorn! That boy's got the strength of an ox!"

Gudrun raised an eyebrow. "And the subtlety of one, too," she teased, though her smile gave away her admiration for their son.

A few seats over, Narcissa Malfoy sat as poised as a queen, her icy blue eyes glittering as she watched her son. She leaned slightly toward her sister, Bellatrix, her voice calm but tinged with unmistakable pride. "Draco is performing exactly as he should," she said, her tone cool and measured. "Graceful, calculating, and utterly composed."

Bellatrix, leaning back in her seat with an amused smirk, flicked a strand of dark hair over her shoulder. "He's your son, Cissy. Of course he's flawless," she drawled, her voice rich and dripping with amusement. Then her eyes darkened with a wicked gleam as she leaned forward slightly. "But wouldn't it be entertaining if he stumbled? Just once? For the drama?"

Narcissa shot her a withering look. "Don't be ridiculous, Bella. My son doesn't stumble. He glides."

At the opposite end of the stands, Frank and Alice Longbottom sat shoulder to shoulder, their hands tightly clasped as they watched their son navigate the obstacles. Frank's dark hair fell into his eyes as he leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. "Would you look at that? That's our boy, Alice," he said, his voice brimming with pride.

Alice, her delicate features glowing with admiration, nodded fervently. "I always knew he had it in him," she said, her voice soft but firm. "He's finally showing the world what we've always seen in him, Frank."

Frank glanced at her, his grin widening. "If only mum were here to see this. She'd be insufferable for weeks."

Alice laughed, a light, musical sound that seemed to brighten the air around her. "She would, wouldn't she? But I'd let her. Neville deserves every ounce of praise he gets."

Back near the front, Sirius let out a bark of laughter as Haraldr cleared another obstacle with ease. "That's it, Haraldr! Show them what a Black can do!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the stands. Then, leaning closer to Amelia, he added in a lower tone, "You know, I think he's even faster than I was at his age."

Amelia raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smile. "Modest as ever, Black," she said dryly, though her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Eirlys, overhearing their exchange, turned back with a radiant smile. "He gets it from both you and James" she said warmly. "But let's not forget—he's got a bit of me in there too."

"Just a bit?" Sirius quipped, flashing her a grin.

Eirlys laughed, her voice rich and warm as she turned her attention back to the track. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched Haraldr tackle the next obstacle, his determination and spirit shining brighter than ever.

---

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