The sun blazed down on the Quidditch stadium, its rays reflecting off the polished stands, each decorated with vibrant flags from various wizarding nations. Alphard stood among his friends, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the excitement palpable in the air. The Weasley kids were also nearby, fully aware of the Order of the Phoenix but sworn to secrecy, their eyes alight with anticipation. The World Wizarding Cup was not just a sporting event; it was a celebration of magical unity, a fleeting moment of peace amidst the ever-present tension of their world.

Alphard scanned the crowd, his gaze sharp and watchful. He felt a familiar pang of longing and nostalgia, remembering the times when their biggest concern was winning a Quidditch match. But today was different. He was here not just as a spectator but as a vigilant member of the Order, ever on the lookout for signs of trouble.

The stadium erupted in cheers as the players took to the field. Alphard settled into his seat, letting the spectacle unfold while his mind remained alert. The Bulgarian team, led by Viktor Krum, executed tight formations with their robes billowing, their movements precise and formidable. The Irish team countered with dazzling speed and agility, creating a breathtaking display. Alphard found himself momentarily swept up in the excitement, his eyes tracking the Golden Snitch as it darted across the pitch.

Amidst the cheers and the roars of the crowd, Alphard's vigilance never wavered. The escape of Barty Crouch Jr. loomed like a dark cloud over the day's festivities. His hand never strayed far from his wand, ready for anything.

"Look at that maneuver!" Ron exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as Krum performed a daring dive.

"He's incredible," Hermione agreed, her eyes wide with admiration.

Harry, though equally engrossed in the match, leaned closer to Alphard. "Do you think we'll see any trouble today?" he asked quietly.

Alphard's gaze hardened. "There's always a chance. Stay alert."

Suddenly, his attention was drawn to a group of wizards dressed in dark cloaks, moving stealthily through the stands. Alphard's instincts kicked in. He leaned forward, trying to get a better look, his heart pounding. The group seemed to be converging on a single point, where a lone wizard sat, seemingly oblivious to the encroaching danger.

Alphard's eyes widened as he recognized the lone wizard: Regulus Black, his uncle. Alphard's mind raced. What was Regulus doing here? And why did those cloaked figures seem so intent on reaching him?

Without a second thought, Alphard pushed through the throngs of spectators, making his way toward Regulus. He had to get there before it was too late. As he neared, he saw Regulus look up, their eyes meeting with a mixture of surprise and determination.

"Get down!" Alphard shouted, drawing his wand.

The cloaked figures turned at the sound of his voice, their wands raised. Spells began to fly, and the crowd erupted into chaos. Alphard ducked and weaved, casting protective charms to shield the panicked spectators. He reached Regulus just as a jet of red light whizzed past them.

Regulus grabbed Alphard's arm, pulling him down behind a row of seats. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice low and urgent.

"I could ask you the same," Alphard retorted, his eyes scanning their surroundings. "Those Death Eaters are after you."

Regulus nodded grimly. "I know. I have something they want. Something the Order needs."

Before Alphard could respond, a loud explosion rocked the stadium, sending debris flying. The Death Eaters were closing in. Regulus pointed his wand at the ground, muttering a complex incantation. The earth trembled, and a protective barrier sprang up around them.

"We need to get out of here," Regulus said, his voice strained. "I have information about Barty Crouch Jr. and his plans. We can't let them capture us."

Alphard nodded, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Together, they fought their way through the chaos, dodging curses and hexes. Alphard could see the exit just ahead, the way clear for a brief moment.

With a final burst of effort, they reached the exit and Disapparated, leaving the chaos of the stadium behind. They reappeared in a secluded forest clearing, far from prying eyes.

Regulus collapsed against a tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "We don't have much time," he said. "I Obliviated them, but I hope they haven't recovered yet. Go sit beside your friends, otherwise they will look for you."

Alphard's mind was racing. "What about you? Are you coming back with me?"

Regulus shook his head. "I can't. If they capture me, everything is lost. I need to go back, lay low until it's safe to resurface."

Alphard wanted to argue, but he knew his uncle was right. "Be careful, Uncle Regg. And thank you."

Regulus managed a faint smile. "You too, Alphard. Keep fighting."

With that, Regulus Disapparated, leaving Alphard alone in the clearing. Alphard took a deep breath, the weight of the notebook in his hand a stark reminder of the dangers they faced. He knew he had to get this information to the Order as soon as possible.

Back at 12 Grimmauld Place, Rosalie sat in the dimly lit attic, the old book Alphard had given her open on her lap. She carefully turned the pages, deciphering the Latin text and intricate diagrams. These were not just any spells; they were powerful, ancient magic, spells her grandfather had meticulously documented.

She traced her fingers over a particularly complex incantation, her mind buzzing with possibilities. This was more than just a collection of old spells. It was a treasure trove of knowledge that could turn the tide in their favor.

As she studied, she heard footsteps approaching. Quickly, she closed the book and slid it beneath a pile of old cloaks just as Regulus stepped into the attic, his expression unreadable.

"Rosalie," he said quietly, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. "What are you doing up here?"

Rosalie gave him a casual smile. "Just sorting through some old things. You know how this place is—endless hidden treasures."

Regulus's gaze remained fixed on her, his instincts honed from years of navigating the perilous waters of their family. "You seem awfully interested in those 'hidden treasures' lately. Anything in particular you're looking for?"

Rosalie shrugged, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance. "Just trying to understand our family's past. There's so much history here."

Regulus stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Rosalie, I know you're curious. But this path you've chosen—it's dangerous. I've been where you are now. When I was your age, I thought I could handle anything. But the darkness in our family's history... it's not to be trifled with."

Rosalie met his gaze, her own eyes steady and determined. "I appreciate the concern, Uncle Regg. But I have to do this. For all of us."

Regulus sighed, the weight of his own past visible in his eyes. "Just be careful. The Black family legacy is a double-edged sword. We have power, but it comes with a price. Don't let it consume you."

She nodded, appreciating his warning. "I'll be cautious. I promise."

Regulus reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. "Good. Remember, you're not alone. And don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it."

With that, he turned and left the attic, leaving Rosalie alone with her thoughts. She retrieved the book from its hiding place and resumed her study, the conversation with Regulus lingering in her mind. His words were a stark reminder of the fine line she was walking.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the challenges ahead. The battle was just beginning, and she was ready to face it head-on. She would learn these spells, master them, and use them to protect those she loved. But she would do so with caution, mindful of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their family's past.

As the candlelight flickered, casting long shadows on the attic walls, a sense of foreboding settled over her. The old house seemed to whisper secrets, the air heavy with the weight of history. Rosalie knew she was treading dangerous ground, and with each spell she uncovered, she edged closer to a darkness that could either save or destroy her.

The next step was hers to take, and she could feel the eyes of her ancestors watching, waiting to see if she would rise or fall. The ancient magic was calling, and Rosalie had no choice but to answer.

Guess who's back back again i am backkkkk!!!!
I just finished and happy to say i fucked up french(not shocked tbh) arabic was mid  history and geography were mid tbh anyways
Summer started so il try my best to keep you guys updated
With love
Urs
-H-