The battlefield roared with chaos. Your wand was slick with sweat as you deflected a burning hex. Your opponent was relentless.

She slashed her wand through the air, flames erupting toward you in a fiery arc.

Too fast.

You braced for impact—

—but a sudden gust of wind swept in, extinguishing the flames before they could touch you.

Your breath hitched, but you didn't have time to question it. The witch snarled and lunged forward, sending a stream of green light slicing through the air toward your chest.

You dove to the side, heart racing. The curse missed by inches—but not by your own doing.

Unseen and unnoticed by you, Mattheo’s wand flicked through the chaos.

Further across the battlefield, Tom dueled two opponents with graceful precision, seamlessly casting subtle defensive wards in your direction without missing a beat.

Blaise dueled calmly and precisely, casting a shield that deflected a curse near you without even glancing your way.

Draco moved with fierce precision, subtly reinforcing the barrier around you amidst his spellwork.

Lorenzo remained composed, his precise spells disarming enemies while quietly shielding you.

Regulus cast intricate runes, briefly summoning a ward that absorbed a hex aimed at you.

Theodore, calm and precise, cast a single subtle shield around you, so brief it seemed like a trick of the light.

You had no idea.

All you knew was that somehow, impossibly, you were still standing.

The witch in front of you roared with frustration, hurling curse after curse, but each time, something unseen diverted the magic just enough to keep you safe.

“Still breathing?” Mattheo called mockingly over the din.

You shot him a glare. “Unfortunately for you, yes.”

He smirked, but there was something fierce and unreadable in his eyes.

You didn’t see the flicker of protective magic he cast behind his back, nor the silent coordination between them as they fought both their enemies and fate itself to keep you alive.

You would never know it.

And they would never tell you.