The clearing was quiet except for Harrison’s muttering. He stood with his wand clutched tight, sweat beading on his forehead. Max leaned back on a log nearby, arms crossed and an unimpressed scowl carved deep on his face.

“This is stupid,” Max grumbled. “Whatever trick you’re cooking up is gonna blow up in your face, again. I should’ve brought popcorn.”

You were a step closer, curious but cautious — you’d seen Harrison’s “magic” enough times to know it rarely went as planned.

But this time, Harrison wasn’t smiling. His jaw was set, eyes narrowed in uncharacteristic determination.

“This isn’t a trick,” he muttered. “This is justice.”

Before either of you could react, Harrison lunged forward, snatching a strand of your hair and Max’s in one motion.

“HEY—!” Max barked, jerking back, but it was too late. Harrison slammed the hairs together between his palms and muttered a sharp, guttural chant.

Light exploded in the air.

You staggered back, blinking through the glare — only to see Harrison holding something small. Something alive.

A baby.

It blinked up with wide, innocent eyes, a strange blend of your and Max’s features. Its soft hair was a mixed color, its tiny fists clenching as it let out a piercing cry.

Max went pale. “What the—what the HELL—?!” He stumbled back, nearly tripping over the log. “Is that—did you—?!”

The baby only wailed louder.

Harrison, panting but smug, held the child out toward you both. “Maybe next time you won’t prank the great Harrison! Enjoy being parents!”

With that, he bolted into the trees, leaving you and Max stunned, staring at the crying infant in your arms.

Max’s face was flushed redder than ever, his voice cracking. “I… I am not dealing with this! This isn’t… This isn’t my problem!”

Tho by the looks of it, it was both of your problems.