With a smooth slash through space, Nova opened a glowing spatial cut using the Demon-Dweller Sword. He stepped through first, followed closely by Harry and Hermione. The tear in reality sealed behind them as they landed in a quiet, empty alleyway tucked between two shops.
Harry and Hermione looked around, still surprised at Nova's way of travel. They definitely want to learn this method of spatial travel as they heard that appartion is little uncomfortable.
Soon they exited the alley and made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.
Tom, the ever-watchful barkeep, looked up as the trio entered.
Nova stepped forward and said calmly, "We need to get to St. Mungo's. We'll use the Floo."
Tom nodded without fanfare. "Ten silver per person."
Nova handed over thirty silver coins without hesitation. "Keep the change."
Tom raised an eyebrow at the generosity but said nothing, simply pointing to the fireplace.
"One at a time," he added, "and speak clearly."
Harry went first, stepping into the green flames and vanishing. Hermione followed, then Nova.
They landed smoothly in the Floo Hall of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
A witch in pale blue robes at the reception desk looked up at the approaching trio. Her eyes flicked to Nova at first, clearly about to ask his business—but then she spotted Harry.
Recognition dawned, and her tone immediately shifted.
"Ah! You're here for Lily Potter, I assume?" she said briskly, standing. "Room 213, same as before."
Harry nodded, his expression tight.
Nova gave her a short nod of thanks, and the three moved quickly toward the lift, under Harry's lead.
The lift stopped with a soft clunk.
Third Floor – Spell Damage, Long-Term Residents, Cursed Artifacts, and Memory Restoration.
As the gates slid open, Harry stepped out first, his jaw tight. Hermione followed close behind, while Nova walked at a steady pace, his expression neutral.
They moved down the quiet corridor, the soft thrum of enchantments humming faintly in the air. Every now and then, muffled voices or flickers of magic spilled out from behind closed doors.
When they reached Room 213, Harry didn't hesitate.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was modest and well-kept. Soft light filtered in from an enchanted window, giving the illusion of a warm afternoon outside. A single chair sat near the bed, along with a tall cabinet and a small table filled with potion vials and a few medical scrolls.
Lily Potter was sitting up slightly against a stack of pillows, her frame still thin, though her face looked healthier than Harry remembered from the photos. Her green eyes—so similar to his—were open and alert.
A mediwitch stood nearby, wand out, murmuring diagnostic spells as soft pulses of light moved over Lily's chest and forehead. The woman gave them a brief glance before returning to her work.
Harry took two slow steps forward.
Lily turned her head toward the sound. Her gaze fixed on him, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion—then widening.
Her voice was a little hoarse but steady. "Harry?"
He stopped near the bed. "Yeah… It's me."
Hermione stood just behind him, quiet but present. Nova remained near the door, saying nothing.
Lily blinked a few times, as if struggling to process the sight in front of her. "You've… grown."
Harry gave a faint nod. "Yeah. Fourth year now."
The mediwitch finished her scan and lowered her wand. She gave Lily's shoulder a gentle pat. "Vitals are steady. No surges. I'll give you some privacy."
With a small nod to Nova, she walked out, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.
Harry pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. His hands stayed in his lap for a long moment before he finally looked up.
"I didn't know… I mean, I didn't think…" He trailed off, unsure what to say.
Lily reached out, slowly, her fingers brushing his. "I didn't think I'd see you like this either. But I'm glad I did."
No one else spoke. The room was still—quiet, but not heavy.
Hermione lowered herself into the second chair in the corner, while Nova stayed near the wall, watching without interfering.
Lily's eyes shifted toward Hermione, then Nova. "You brought friends."
Harry nodded. "They helped me get here."
Lily studied them for a long moment, then looked back at Harry.
"Tell me everything."
-----
While Harry enthusiastically recounted his life at Hogwarts, his encounters, and the people he'd met, Nova quietly sat in the nearby chair, arms loosely folded, observing.
From the occasional glances Lily sent his way—curious but clearly not recognizing him—Nova smiled faintly. So the disguise spell held. Good.
It wasn't surprising, of course. The spell he had cast was one of the first he developed after his time at the World Tree's core—a basic but powerful illusion layered with reality-altering effects.
He'd drawn inspiration from many places—memories of fiction, fragments of comics and fanfics he'd once read. It was the classic disguise trope: like Superman's glasses, or the mechanics of the Fidelius Charm. But Nova had refined it beyond mere surface illusion.
His version bent perception itself. As long as the observer wasn't vastly more powerful than him, they couldn't pierce the disguise, no matter how closely they looked.
Overpowered? Definitely. But also incredibly useful.
And so, even now—sitting here in the same room as Lily Potter—Nova didn't risk revealing his true face. When he'd first met her in his other identity, he had already chosen a different appearance for that persona.
Silver hair, crystalline red eyes—subtle changes, but enough to feel otherworldly. The kind of look that would draw attention, demand respect, and, if needed, intimidate. After all, 'The Trader' was meant to operate across countless worlds, dealing with the powerful and the dangerous alike. So he needed an identity and appearance appropriate for someone this powerfull.
And so he watched quietly, saying nothing, while Lily listened to Harry with rapt attention, smiling at his stories, with Hermione adding details here and there. She didn't know she was in the room with the very being who had healed her, forged that private contract, and was the one she would eventually serve under.
He would reveal his true identity to her soon—after all, the contract was ironclad, making it impossible for her to betray him. Besides, she was his designated secretary for this world, so knowing who he truly was would only make things more efficient and manageable for both of them.
-----
The late morning air inside St. Mungo's grew tense as two medi-witches stood by Lily's bed, their arms crossed and expressions far from pleased.
"I'm sorry, but she only regained consciousness today," one of them said, voice clipped. "There's no way we can responsibly discharge a patient in this condition."
Harry stood at Lily's bedside, his jaw clenched. "She's awake. She's talking. She remembers everything. There's no reason to keep her locked up in here when she could recover better with us."
"Mr. Potter," the other medi-witch interjected, more gently, "a recovery coma that lasted over a decade isn't something we take lightly. Her body might be awake, but we haven't finished all the diagnostic scans. The spells haven't stabilized yet—"
"I don't care," Harry snapped, eyes blazing. "I'm taking my mum home."
"Harry…" Lily's voice cut through the argument. It was still soft, but there was a quiet certainty behind it. "It's fine. I want to leave too."
The medi-witches turned toward her, one already beginning to protest, "Mrs. Potter, with respect—"
Lily's gaze didn't waver. "I know my condition better than anyone. Trust me when I say—I'll be fine."
Nova, who had remained silent up to this point, simply watched with mild interest. He didn't interfere. He didn't need to. The contract ensured Lily's recovery, and she was already beginning to realize the truth behind that unspoken clause.
The medi-witches exchanged frustrated looks, but Lily's clear-headedness and Harry's stubborn glare left them little choice.
"Very well," the senior witch sighed at last. "But the discharge will be recorded under strong objection. We will owl you a potion regimen and monitoring schedule, and we expect compliance."
Harry nodded sharply. "Fine."
As the medi-witches turned to begin the paperwork, Lily swung her legs over the edge of the bed, breathing in deeply. Her limbs were still a little stiff, but strength was returning—more quickly than she let on.
She cast a glance at Nova, the person Harry and Hermione had introduced simply as their new teacher—and nothing more. They were deliberately vague about the nature of their relationship, offering no real explanation.
Something about him tickled at her instincts. His aura was calm, but it carried weight… like a stone resting silently at the bottom of a deep lake.
He's hiding something, she thought, narrowing her eyes slightly. Harry had mentioned that they met this man just last night and now they were calling him their teacher? And that same night… was when the Trader had healed her.
Her mind began to connect the pieces.
So he's the one… the person the Trader mentioned. The one who would take care of Harry… protect him from the assassins.
She didn't say a word—just studied Nova a little more closely, storing every detail for later.
For now, she said nothing, only rising to her feet with help of Harry and Hermione.
x------x
CHAPTER:- [68 - TRADER'S RING] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON.
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