Cora was relaxing in the warm water of the bathtub when someone suddenly entered her room.

She gasped and turned around, reaching for the clothes she'd abandoned on the floor, the tips of her hair falling in the water. She didn't dare to make a move nor let out a sound, and after some instants a voice spoke.

"I'll leave your breakfast on the table."

Cora let out a relieved breath. It was only Dwyn.

She waited for the other to leave her bedroom and then got out of the bathtub and dried herself off quickly. Dwyn usually made the water in the stone bathtub disappear after her baths, but Cora didn't know how to. She made a mental note to ask her to teach her and walked back into her room. Her hair was dripping water on the floor, but she ignored it, knowing it would dry off in moments.

There were some clothes on her bed; a few dress shirts and dark trousers. There were also a couple of dresses, one of them a deep, dark red that reminded her of the one Harry had given her as a present over a month before, and Cora blushed faintly as she put it away.

She put on some practical clothes and turned to her breakfast. Her eyes widened. Sweet tea, orange jam and walnut bread. She distinctly remembered having told Harry what she used to have breakfast with some weeks before—she hadn't expected him to remember.

The sun shone through the gossamer curtains and Cora ate as fast as she could, not wanting to give Harry a reason to come looking for her as he'd promised he would.

She left her bedroom and ran through the corridors, almost crashing into a lemon tree on her way out. When she finally made it into the garden, Harry was already there. She stopped in the door frame, looking at him, mesmerised.

It was cold outside, but he wasn't wearing his coat. He was standing in a ring of white fire that grew taller and taller with every second, spinning around him like an angered flock. He threw his hand out and the fire jumped into the sky like a winged snake, twirling and turning against the clouds before falling back down towards him in a thousand fireflies. He closed his eyes and let his glittering stardust fall all around him, looking like the very definition of magic.

Water splashed around him and put out his fire, vapour rising in the sky. He dried the wet earth with a blade of fire of a dark burning red, and then let his own white flames intertwine with the red ones in an arch that momentarily hid him from view. Then with a snap of his fingers it was all gone, and rabbits of white fire were running all around him. They grew bigger and bigger and suddenly they were no longer rabbits, but two mythical creatures with sharp claws and large wings. They walked around him as dogs do with their master, and then they disappeared in a flicker of blue.

Cora had never seen Harry use his magic like that. He'd always been too aware of his surroundings, too careful not to let it slip from his control. What she'd just witnessed, though, was a confident display of power. He wasn't using his magic to protect himself, but to exhibit his talents. It was magic made to be witnessed, to be enjoyed.

She pictured a younger Harry standing in the centre of a crowd under the bright blue ceiling of the Pavilion, creating magical images with fire for everybody to see as people cheered him on. She imagined the winning smile on his face, his confident strides around the tent and the way he might've addressed people. That was who he was, who he'd been. Who he'd no longer be able to be. Sadness enveloped her and her gaze darkened.

Harry waved his hand and butterflies of white fire flickered around him. He turned his head, and his gaze locked with hers. His lips curved in a smile, and the butterflies disappeared.

"You're late," he said walking towards her, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I got distracted."

He stopped in the centre of the grassless area. "Come here."

Cora bit her lower lip nervously, but stepped forward. She stopped some feet away from him, and he studied her for a moment.

He walked to the side and came back with two wooden canes. "Take this," he said, handing one to her, and Cora wrapped her fingers around it and gave him a confused look. He took some steps away from her and glanced at her over his shoulder. "Hit me."

Cora gave him a shocked look. "What? I... I can't—"

"Hit me, Cora."

"I'm not going to hurt you—"

Harry laughed and turned around. "Do you truly believe you could get me?" He chuckled again, observing her. His white ruffled shirt was half tucked out of his trousers, and his dark curls were in a scattered mess on top of his head. He looked like he'd just crawled out of bed, and yet his position was straight, albeit relaxed. "No, Cora. Hit me, if you can."

She raised the cane and wielded it as if it was a sword, slowly bringing it towards his side. Harry looked at her with irony in his eyes when it gently rested against his shirt—he hadn't even tried to shield himself from her ridiculously slow hit.

"That wasn't even worthy of being warded off," he commented, and Cora's cheeks heated up. "You can do better than that."

She lifted the cane again and lunged at him again. She gasped when she hit the wood of Harry's cane and jumped back, but he didn't counterattack. She thrusted it in his direction and he warded it off, spinning around and hitting hers so hard that she almost let go of it. She came at him again and again, each time more ferociously than the one before, and each time he danced around her slashes with no effort and a taunting little smile on his face.

Anger bubbled up in her chest at how easily he was protecting himself, as if she wasn't a threat to him at all, and charged forward.

Harry slammed his cane onto hers so harshly that its tip hit the ground. She tried to pull it back, but he spun his own wooden cane around hers and lifted it up. He pushed his against hers and she took a step back. He took one forward.

"Fighting always works in the same way, no matter the means," he said. "It isn't only about attacking, but also protecting yourself."

Cora tripped over nothing and fell, groaning when her back hit the ground.

Harry rested the tip of his cane against her chest. "You should always be aware of your surroundings."

She scowled. "You made me trip on purpose! There was nothing—"

"I did," Harry interrupted her, "to teach you a lesson. When you're fighting, there are obstacles. Sometimes, obstacles are created. You have to pay attention if you want to survive." He threw the cane to the side and offered her his hand.

Cora took it and stood up, glaring at him. "Now what?" she asked as he walked away, and he turned his head and smiled.

He snapped his fingers and a circle of white fire rose around Cora. "Now, let's see what you can do. Put out the fire."

Cora smiled. She knew how to do that—she'd already done it in the past. She closed her eyes and focused. Her magic came to her in a matter of seconds, faster than ever before, and she splashed water all around her.

She opened her eyes again and her heart dropped. The ground was wet, but the fire was brighter than before, left untouched.

"That... What—"

"That's fay fire," Harry told her, staying a few feet away from her. "It can't be easily put out."

Cora bit her tongue to keep something of not so kind from leaving her mouth, and she tried again. And again. And again. Each time, though initially dimmed, the fire rose up high again, left unaffected by her attempts.

She glared at Harry through the white of his flames. His image was a little distorted, but she could see the enjoyment in his green eyes. The fire lowered, and she found Harry nonchalantly playing with a little hummingbird of red fire as he watched her fail again and again.

After another attempt gone wrong, the flames got higher again, as if to mock her for her incompetence. She clenched her teeth, remembering how Harry had put out the fire in instants. Sure, fire was his ability, but still... Humiliation was burning inside of her, almost as bright as the flames around her.

Ten more tries later, she was back to square one. She'd tried it all, but the blaze had no intention of disappearing. Harry was now sitting on the ground, playing with something that—

Cora gasped.

Water. Harry was playing with little spheres of water right in front of her, twirling them around his fingers the same way he did with his roses, mocking her. She didn't even know how to put out his fire, and there he was playing with water as if it wasn't a big deal—the exact opposite of his ability.

It was humiliating, to say the least.

Cora threw her own little ball of water at his shirt and he looked up at her instantly, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face.

"Don't be rude," she told him from the other side of the crackling flames and he laughed, lying down on the cold grass and looking up at the sky. The spheres of water turned into golden fireflies, and she went back to her task.

She didn't know how long she stayed there for, but after what felt like a century she knelt down in the middle of the unnatural circle of fire, her heartbeat quickened by all her desperate attempts. There was sweat on her skin and her hands were slippery, and she was sure the warmth of the blaze would smother her.

It vanished, and she looked up. Harry was standing in front of her.

"What—"

"We'll continue tomorrow."

Cora scrambled up to her feet and nodded. She was sure she looked like a mess, face sweaty and hair sticking everywhere. She walked back inside, torn between feeling embarrassment and anger at how easily he'd overpowered her.

It wasn't until she made it back to her room that she realised Harry was trying to teach her to protect herself from fay fire, even though he was one of the few that could make it.

Harry wasn't teaching her to use magic in battle.

He was teaching her to fight him.

•    •    •

After lunch Cora went into the library again, looking to continue the story she'd started the day before. She hadn't seen Harry since she'd walked away that morning, and she supposed he'd holed up somewhere in the house and left her alone again.

She neared the table and frowned when she realised that the book was not where she'd left it. She looked on the chair and went as far as checking the spot on the bookshelf it'd previously occupied, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Looking for something?"

Cora jumped and spun around.

Harry was standing in the frame of the door, light coming into the room from behind him. He was dressed in the same clothes of that morning, but his shirt was now elegantly tucked in and the lace decorations on it seemed to shine brighter, as if some of the stardust he'd created had stuck to his clothes when it'd fallen down on him.

She gave him a little shrug. "Just the book I was reading, I put it here but I can't find it anymore." She suddenly remembered a small detail. "Do you know where it is? You were reading it yesterday."

His gaze didn't leave hers. "I haven't seen it. I must've misplaced it," he replied.

The sensation that he wasn't being completely honest came over Cora. "Oh, I see." Why would he lie to her? Maybe she was seeing things that weren't there. What was there for him to hide, after all?

"What is it?"

The words left her mouth before she could stop them. "You know about the War, don't you?"

Harry sighed and stepped into the room, closing the door. "I know only some things. It took place many years before I was born."

"Could you tell me the continuation of the story I was reading?" Cora asked. "The one with the generals. I was very interested in it."

He paused and sent her a glance. "Of course," he said after some moments. "The generals were close friends, but then they had a... disagreement."

"About what?"

"Nobody knows." Harry's eyes didn't meet hers as he walked towards the table and stopped next to it, the tips of his fingers on its smooth surface. "They turned into enemies and travelled far away, never to be seen again."

Cora waited for a moment after he stopped talking, expecting he'd add something more. "Is that it?" she asked when he didn't.

"Yes." He pursed his lips and smothered her with a look so sharp Cora feared it would pierce through her soul. "Something else you want to know?"

"Did you grow up in a fay village?" Her hand flew to her mouth in the instant the question left her lips.

Harry abruptly stilled. "What?"

"Are you? I've—"

"No," he breathed out. "No, I'm not."

Cora took a step towards him. "But—"

"My mother was human," Harry interrupted her.

He played with a piece of paper that was on the table, seeming to debate whether to share more or not.

"I come from a... rather influential family on my father's side," he continued. "My grandfather wasn't too pleased when his only son laid with a human without his permission."

Cora knew she should've left it at that, but couldn't stop herself from asking for more. "Was your father like you?"

"Like me?" Harry let out a cold laugh. "No. He could manipulate fire, but he had limits." He looked at Cora. She'd never seen him so... still, before. Like he'd stopped existing for an instant. "His reach was limited to what he could set his sight on, so they gouged his eyes out."

A shudder ran up Cora's spine. You shouldn't have asked, she told herself. You shouldn't have asked if you weren't ready to hear the answer. "I'm sorry."

"It's in the past."

Cora nodded and glanced away, the weight of the conversation smothering her. "Do you need the library? Am I bothering you in here?" she asked.

He shook his head, and then gave her a once over. "I see you're wearing the clothes I brought from Evandra."

She looked down at her shirt in surprise. "You brought them from Evandra?!" she asked, her eyes glittering at the thought. "Dwyn said it's beautiful. I'd love to see it."

"It's close by. I could take you one of these days."

"Oh, I don't want to trouble you. I can go with Dwyn."

Harry tensed up. "I'd rather you didn't leave the house without me."

Cora frowned. "Are you planning to keep me locked up like a prisoner?"

"I'm trying to keep you from being locked up," he replied sharply. "The new king will be coming here soon, it isn't safe for you to go out alone."

Cora's heart dropped. "Soren? Here? Does he know—"

"It's customary for the king to visit all the nobles shortly after his coronation," Harry explained. "He won't come here for us, but that doesn't mean he won't do anything if you cross paths with him."

The simple thought of seeing Soren again made Cora shiver. She still remembered the wicked smile he'd given her that night in the fire, and the look on Harry's face when he'd had to destroy the world he'd built because the new king was too much of a coward to admit his faults. She still remembered the effortless way in which he'd made her think he was a good person, a potential friend, and it made her feel sick.

"I have business to attend there," Harry continued. "You should come with me then. I'll need your help, too."

Cora'a mind sunk back into the present and she gave him a little nod, even though she was still unable to shake away the cold feeling that had filled her at the mention of Soren. "I'd love to."

Harry observed her in the same way he observed his roses when he was creating them. "I'll leave you to it, then. Before I go, though, I'd like to remind you of one thing," he said. "Water seldom fixes all your problems." He went out of the room and she stared at him with a confused look on her face.

It took her too long to understand he'd been referring to their training from that morning, and it took her even longer to realise the book she'd been reading was still nowhere to be found, and that Harry hadn't answered her question at all.