"Mr. Potter, please stay behind," Tonks announced once class ended, her tone deceptively cheerful, as if she was just speaking in her normal tone as her voice cut the lingering noise in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Harry had been expecting it. Honestly, he'd have been more surprised if she hadn't said anything. Tonks was never known for her patience that well after all. He had already been preparing himself for this reckoning since the moment he stepped back inside the castle walls.
His friends glanced back at him curiously, Ron looking confused, and Hermione looking concerned, but he just waved them off. "Go ahead. I'll catch up later."
The last students filed out, their footsteps echoing quickly down the stone corridor, but he knew a lot of them were glancing back at him to see if they could somehow learn what Tonks was going to say to him.
The door closed with a decisive click after the last person passed through, sealing the classroom in thick, heavy silence.
Only three people remained, Tonks, Daphne, and Harry.
Both women stood near the desk, side by side, their posture rigid and identical, arms crossed, feet planted, eyes locked on him. Well... glaring was probably the more accurate term. Tonks' hair was still a deep, warning crimson, the clear sign of anger. Daphne, by contrast, was perfectly still, which was even more unnerving. Her cool composure usually meant she was probably thinking of ways to tear through him with just her words alone, and somehow that felt worse. He had seen her bring an upper year to tears once with her words.
Harry, ever the brave fool, gave a smile, pretending like he couldn't feel the tension. "So… how have you both been?" Silence. It stretched taut between them. "Have you both gotten even more beautiful since I last saw you?" he added, trying one last, futile attempt at humor.
That seemed to make it worse, as the twin death-glare deepened.
"Is that really all you have to say?" Daphne spoke, her voice smooth but edged with cold steel. Her glare not lessen at all.
"Yeah, you just disappeared and didn't even tell us, and then we find out you're a Campione!" Tonks added, her voice rising in pitch as genuine frustration broke through her composure.
"A Campione, Harry. Do you know how it feels finding this out from others?" she demanded, throwing her hands out in exasperation. "Why didn't you ever tell us! We heard rumors and letters, from rumors, Harry, that our boyfriend was a God-slayer! and you just disappeared without telling us."
The core of their hurt was laid bare. Logically, Tonks knew they hadn't been together long enough to share every life-and-death secret, and Daphne understood the chaos of the magical world. But logic offered little comfort when the person they cared for most simply vanished.
Harry dropped the smile completely, recognizing that this wasn't something he should be making jokes about, it really wasnt something he'd like to do, someone worryiong about him and he'd be making fun of it, that wasnt him, it was one of the reasons he cared for his best friend hermione that much because he knew deep down she cared for him very much and now so do bith his girls it would be an insult and crime for him to strated playing with their feelings if worry. He walked closer toward them and let out a long, heavy sigh. "I'm sorry."
That simple statement, devoid of excuses, earned a sharp, raised brow from Daphne.
"Truly," he continued, meeting their eyes with sincerity. "I didn't mean to be gone that long. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to be gone for more than a few hours. I went out to meet someone and settle a personal matter, and everything just… went off course. Still, I should have at least told you both that I was going somewhere before I just left like that. I hope you'd forgive me," he said, letting a genuine, tired smile reach his eyes.
Daphne walked over slowly, her heels clicking against the stone floor. She stopped right in front of him, assessing him. Her focus wasn't just on his eyes, but on his entire posture too, seeing if he really meant it.
She placed a hand gently on his cheek, a soft touch that had him leaning in, and then abruptly pulled back and smacked him lightly on the head.
"Ow! What was that for?" he protested, rubbing the spot.
Daphne uncharacteristically pouted slightly, the cold look she had melting away from her face. "Well, I wasn't just going to say 'okay' and accept it just like that, you idiot. You owe us for the days of worry."
The softness returned to her gaze. "But I can see you mean it. I accept your apology." Then her eyes hardened, turning serious and utterly determined. "But hear this, Harry Potter, if you ever just vanish like that again, you'd better prepare yourself, because you won't get off easy. I've told you before, you're mine and I am yours, but that doesn't mean I'll sit back and accept things like this."
She moved back, nodding for Tonks to step forward.
Tonks, still crimson-haired, approached with a deliberate stomp and smacked him in the same spot.
"Mine was just for fun," she said cheerfully, though her glare suggested otherwise. She quickly dropped the cheerfulness, crossing her arms again. "But I'm still mad at you, you know." She jutted out her lower lip. "I won't forgive you until you tell me everything. I want details, Harry."
Her eyes held a deep spark of excitement as her hair shifted color. Her boyfriend was a Campione, she had to know every detail, of course.
Harry just held his head as he laughed, the tension finally dissolving. "Of course, of course," he said, grinning. "How about later tonight? We meet up, and I'll tell you both. How does that sound?"
The two women exchanged a look, a flicker of silent debate passing between them. Finally, they nodded at him, their expressions softening.
"Sure." "That's fine."
Before he could ask what that had been about or what they were planning, they both stepped closer. In a perfectly synchronized move, they quickly leaned in and kissed him firmly on opposite cheeks before turning and walking out, leaving the stunned Lord Black standing alone.
'What the hell just happened?' he thought to himself, completely stunned by the sudden turn and brief display of affection and immediate departure. Honestly, Harry decided, he'd gotten off way too easy. His girls were so fiercely protective, and yet surprisingly understanding sometimes, for that alone, he was thankful.
Harry turned and left the DADA classroom, heading to Charms next. The moment he walked in, the school's atmosphere changed as the whispers started again.
Every student's head pivoted, eyes wide as he entered the class, some with even a blend of fear and awe.
He took his seat, ignoring the people around him and the commotion he seemed to cause. Across the room, Professor Flitwick, upon spotting him, let out a squeak loud enough to be heard over the silence, nearly tumbling off his stack of books. The tiny man stammered, "M–Mr. Potter! You—You're back! Are—Are you quite well?"
Harry gave him a small wave, projecting a casual ease he didn't quite feel. "Morning, Professor. Perfectly fine, thank you."
Class went on like normal and quickly ended, and Flitwick rushed out.
The whole thing felt like his first year all over again, except this time the fame was even greater than just killing a Dark Lord. This new fame came with absolute distance.
People didn't just admire him, they were terrified of him, and this fear, luckily, was a cloak of privacy. Honestly, he quite liked this fame better, both for having actually earned the title and because being a Campione seemed to make people keep their distance, something Harry had begun to love very much.
Well... almost everyone.
"Scarhead!"
Ah. He spoke too soon.
Harry turned his head lazily toward Draco Malfoy, who was standing a few desks away, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, and a sneering Pansy Parkinson. Behind them, Zabini and Nott hovered, strategically positioning themselves five feet away from Malfoy's immediate vicinity. Smart boys, Harry acknowledged mentally, they were trying to show they were not with Malfoy.
Draco's face was twisted in fury. "Do you think I'm like these fools who believe everything they hear?" he scoffed, his voice straining to be loud and contemptuous, but only managing a shrill. "You, a Campione? I don't know what lie you have been telling people, but I won't fall for them! You're just using it as a cover so that people won't know that you stole from me!"
Stole? Harry tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. "Stole from you? When exactly did that happen?"
"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" Draco screamed, abandoning any pretense of subtlety. "You stole the position of Lord Black! It was supposed to be mine, the Malfoys were the rightful line, so how did you, a half-blood, get it?"
Oh. So that was what this was about. Harry could see people gathering around them, the class now completely enthralled by the drama.
"Oooohhhhhh, you mean this?" he said, smirking as he casually raised his right hand, showing the Black family signet ring glinting under the torchlight of the room. Draco growled, vibrating with rage.
"That is mine!" Draco shouted, reaching instinctively to grab it.
"Oh? And how exactly is it yours?" Harry asked, pulling his hand back.
"It belongs to me! I am the only Black heir left! It falls to me through my mother."
"That's odd," Harry said, his voice mild and carrying effortlessly across the room. "The previous Lord Black, my godfather, Sirius Black, gave it to me himself. He gave it to me, not you."
A collective gasp ripped through the class. And he could somewhat understand why.
To the world, Sirius was still the traitor, the convicted mass murderer who was responsible for the death of his parents.
To hear that the Boy-Who-Lived was not only named his heir but proudly asserted it was a bombshell.
Harry hadn't forgotten that Sirius was a fugitive, he had just been waiting for the right moment. After all, he had the rat Peter with him, he had captured that rat bastard long ago but had kept him in a personal nightmare of his design and had made sure to torture him real good. But now he was done, so it was time for the rat to be of use one last time.
"That's a lie! A filthy lie!" Draco yelled, his denial sounding desperate, clutching at the last vestiges of his pride.
"Well, it doesn't matter if you believe me or not. The fact of the matter is that I am Lord Black, and you are not," Harry stated, his voice dropping low, cold, and absolute. "So be careful how you speak, Draco."
Something in that cold tone made the blond boy flinch hard, his eyes wide with stark terror before he managed to recover. He opened his mouth for one last, desperate insult, but Harry was already done with the conversation. He would not waste his time by indulging this spoiled child.
He flicked his wrist. The air around him shimmered, and a dark, icy mist condensed into a thick, swirling tide of water. The water coiled through the air, and before anyone could truly react, the water surged forward, enveloping Draco and his entourage, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, in a shimmering, tight bubble.
The students gasped. Their shouts were instantly muffled and distorted by the dense, aqueous sphere.
"Enjoy the swim," Harry muttered, his green eyes flashing with annoyance. He gave a sharp, downward gesture with his hand, and the watery sphere containing the four students shot out through the open window, heading toward the Black Lake, where they would be unceremoniously dropped.
Silence returned. Students recoiled from their desks, eyes wide. He had just made four students vanish in an instant with a flick of his wrist.
Harry sighed as he gathered his books. He didn't spare the stunned class another glance as he made his way out for his next class.
By the end of the day, everyone had heard of what happened. Harry moved to the seventh floor. He was meeting his girls here, where he had shown them the Room of Requirement long ago, the only place they could talk and spend time together with guaranteed privacy.
The door appeared, and he stepped inside.
The room was warm and softly lit, configured as a private, luxurious, and comfortable sitting room. Daphne and Tonks sat together on a plush, low couch, both watching him as he entered the room.
He smiled as he walked to the chair they had placed facing the couch, creating a triangle of intimate focus. He sat down and began to tell them everything.
He started with the simplest version, the meeting in Iceland, with the heretic god, Fenrir. His first kill, becoming a campione after that, and the descent of Njorun.
But… Fenrir was a giant wolf, right? How did you even…?"Tonks gasped, leaning forward. "You killed the goddess of dreams? "
"It was pure, desperate luck," Harry admitted. "I was fighting a giant wolf, then suddenly I got a lucky shot in them bam I was a God-slayer."
He detailed his battle with Cú Chulainn, the Celtic Hero. He described the relentless nature of the fight, the thrill of using an Authority, and managing to pull off a win.
Daphne's focus sharpened. "You fought The Morrigan".
Harry nodded. "Yeah. The Queen of Sovereignty and Death herself. I think that was my hardest battle, if not for an acquaintance, I would be dead right now," he said, laughing, but stopped when he felt their hands grip him, then continued, "It was horrifying. I was beaten, pinned to the ground with divine spears. If a girl named Anya hadn't intervened, I would have died."
Tonks, the Auror, focused on the immediate tactical implications. "But you won, and you survived, that's what matters, and you gained her powers, right. That's… incredible. And terrifying." She ran a hand through her hair, which was now settling into a deep, thoughtful purple.
"Yeah, it was," Harry confirmed. "But what I left for was that I had gone to meet with Narcissa Malfoy, as Lord Black, and before I could even finish the conversation, a heretic god appeared. That's why I was late."
He paused, gathering his thoughts. Both girls were silent after hearing the story. And for a while, they just sat there comfortably.
Daphne stood first, "Thank you for telling us," she whispered, as she sat close to him, hugging him by the side. Tonks stood up and joined them.
Then, without warning, the girl stood up and looked at the other and nodded. Then the Room of Requirement shifted, the couch vanishing, and the place started changing.
The warm study melted away. The chairs and couches vanished, and the scent of parchment was replaced by a faint, musky scent of wood and jasmine.
A large, soft bed appeared in the center of the room.
Harry blinked, momentarily speechless, before his brain started to process as Daphne moved away and her robes dropped to the ground.
"Oh," he managed weakly, watching as the same happened to Tonks too.
Tonks smirked, stepping away from her robes, as she came and hugged him from the back.
Daphne's smile was subtle as she hugged him from the front, "Well, now that that's all said and done, how about he gets some rest, yes?".
He could feel she was nervous, but she had steeled herself, they both pulled Harry to the bed and pushed him down as both of them got on top.
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