The door to the Gryffindor third-year dormitory burst open with such force that the newly repaired portrait of the Fat Lady let out a cry of indignation, clinging to her frame.
Harry Potter stormed in, his face contorted with rage that had been boiling in his blood for hours. He didn't walk to his bed, but kicked his trunk hard, sending the heavy object sliding half a meter across the floor and waking everyone in the room with a start.
"Damn him!" Harry roared, grabbing his hair in despair. "Damn him and his disgusting smile!"
Ron ran in behind him, pale, and quickly closed the door so that the shouting wouldn't wake everyone in the tower.
"Harry, please!" Ron pleaded, trying to grab his arm. "Lower your voice! You're waking everyone up!"
Harry jerked away, turning to Ron with bloodshot eyes.
"I don't give a damn if it wakes the whole castle!" Harry shouted, his voice breaking with hysteria. "Did you see how he looked at us, Ron? He looked at us like we were trash! He thinks he's a god! He looks at us like we're insects he should crush!"
Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas sat up in their beds, rubbing their eyes, confused and frightened by the scene before them.
"Harry?" Dean asked hoarsely. "What happened? Did Black attack you?"
"Worse!" spat Harry, pacing back and forth, gesturing wildly. "We were saved by the 'great' Slytherin! Aurelian Gaunt! The savior, the hero, the perfect role model!
Harry stopped in the middle of the room, shaking with frustration.
"He's a monster!" he roared, spitting out the words with venom. "He's dark, he's twisted, and he's a manipulative piece of trash! He uses people! He made Sirius kiss his feet, and Dumbledore never says anything to him! He's just like Voldemort, nothing but a pretty face! He's scum who doesn't deserve the magic he has!"
"Harry, Gaunt helped us," Ron whispered. "He may be strange... but he never treated us badly or hurt us, did he?"
"He didn't help us, Ron!" Harry exploded, turning to him with his green eyes burning with rage. "He did it for himself! He does everything for himself! Didn't you see how he looked at me? How he used his magic against me? He's dark, Ron! He's an arrogant piece of trash who..."
"Shut up, Potter!" Neville shouted.
The curtains around Neville Longbottom's bed flew open. Neville wasn't rubbing his eyes or looking scared. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his back straight and a look on his face that none of the Gryffindors had ever seen before.
Neville slowly stood up. He was no longer the chubby, clumsy boy who lost his toad. Aurelian's physical and magical training had transformed his body. Now standing in front of Harry, he looked bigger, stronger, and more confident than his other classmates.
"Don't you dare," Neville said in a cold whisper, clutching his wand in his right hand, "insult Aurelian in front of me."
Harry let out an incredulous laugh, a cruel and mocking laugh.
"You too?" Harry took an aggressive step toward Neville, invading his personal space. "Are you his lapdog too, Neville? Did he pat you on the head, teach you a few tricks, and now you wag your tail for him?"
"Harry, that's enough..." Seamus tried to intervene, frightened.
But Harry wasn't listening. He was blinded by rage.
"I'll say it again, Neville, Aurelian Gaunt is nothing but trash!" Harry shouted in his face. "He's a bad person! An arrogant piece of shit who's just using you! You're pathetic for defending someone like him!"
Neville's eyes flashed. Memories of his time with Aurelian flashed through his mind.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Neville cast, aiming at Harry's chest at point-blank range.
The spell hit Harry before he could blink. His arms and legs stuck to his body and he fell backward stiff as a board, hitting the floor with a thud that shook the floorboards.
"Neville!" Ron shouted, horrified.
Neville ignored Ron. He bent over Harry, grabbing him by the collar of his robe with his left hand and lifting him a few inches off the ground. Immobilized, Harry stared wide-eyed as Neville's right fist closed perfectly.
"Aurelian brought me back my parents," Neville whispered, his voice trembling with fury. "He believed in me when no one even remembered my name. He is more of a man and a better wizard than you will ever be... he is almost like a brother to me."
Without hesitation, Neville landed a solid punch directly on Harry's nose.
CRACK!
The fist hit Harry's nose squarely. He felt the cartilage break and warm blood begin to flow, running down his throat and choking him slightly.
Neville let go, dropping Harry's head to the floor with contempt. He stood up and looked at the other three boys, who were paralyzed with shock.
"If I hear one more word against him," Neville said, wiping the blood from his knuckles, "I swear on my surname that I'll send you all to the infirmary," challenging the entire room.
Seamus and Dean shook their heads quickly, terrified of Neville. Ron stood pressed against the wall, not knowing what to do. Neville nodded and closed the curtains around his bed again. The room fell into a deathly silence, broken only by Harry's labored breathing.
Harry lay on the floor unable to move, feeling a sharp pain in his broken nose and blood running down his throat. But that was nothing compared to what he felt in his chest. He stared at the dark ceiling of the dormitory. Neville, the boy he had always considered inferior to him, just someone weak and foolish, had knocked him down and beaten him up to defend him. To Gaunt.
Something broke inside Harry Potter. It was no longer just envy or frustration. As he tasted the metallic flavor of his own blood, a black seed took root in his heart.
He hated him.
"It's his fault, it's all his fault," Harry thought, his mind clouded with rage. "He did this. He turned Neville into this. He's a disease that enters our lives and corrupts everything. He stole the spotlight from me, humiliated my godfather, and now he's turning my friends against me."
He hated Aurelian Gaunt with every fiber of his being. He hated him for being perfect. He hated him for stealing his friends. He hated him for making him feel small, weak, and alone.
"You'll pay for this, Gaunt," thought Harry, as a tear mixed with the blood on his cheek. "I swear I'll destroy you."
Hundreds of miles from Hogwarts, under the enchanted ceiling of the Ministry of Magic reception hall, the atmosphere was chaotic, with purple cameras flashing and mingling with the shouts of reporters.
Cornelius Fudge stood on a makeshift podium in front of the Fountain of Magical Brotherhood, sweating under the lights but wearing a radiant smile of pure happiness. He had summoned the press, and to his delight, they had all turned up. The Daily Prophet, Witch's Heart(Witch Weekly), and even international correspondents.
"Calm down! Calm down, please!" exclaimed Fudge, raising his hands with a benevolent smile. "There's news for everyone!"
To his right, Aurelian Gaunt stood impeccably. His robe absorbed the camera flashes, and his face showed a stoic serenity that contrasted with the hysteria of the journalists. Amelia Bones stood a step behind, watching the crowd with hawk-like eyes.
"Minister Fudge!" shouted a blonde woman with jeweled glasses and elaborate curls, elbowing her way through the crowd. Rita Skeeter held her acid-green quill, which was already scribbling frantically on a floating parchment. "Rita Skeeter of The Daily Prophet! Is it true that the Ministry has kept an innocent man imprisoned for twelve years? What does this say about the competence of your administration?"
Fudge tensed for a moment, but then remembered Aurelian's words and straightened up again.
"An excellent question, Rita!" Fudge replied in a powerful voice. "And the answer is simple: this administration has had the courage to correct the mistakes of the past! I inherited a regrettable situation, riddled with irregularities from the war era. But tonight... tonight justice has been served! Sirius Black is innocent, and the true traitor, Peter Pettigrew, has been unmasked."
Rita's quill paused for a moment, then began scribbling at breakneck speed.
"And what role does young Lord Gaunt play in all this?" asked Rita, her predatory eyes fixed on Aurelian. "Rumor has it that he orchestrated the capture. A student doing the work of the Aurors? How does that look to the Ministry?"
Fudge smiled broadly. This was the moment.
The Minister turned and put a paternal arm around Aurelian's shoulders, drawing him into the center of the podium.
"Lord Gaunt is no ordinary student, I assure you!" Fudge boomed, puffing out his chest. "Thanks to his cunning, his courage, and his unwavering sense of justice, a truth that had remained hidden was uncovered. He risked his safety to bring irrefutable evidence before me."
Camera flashes went off like an electrical storm, blinding everyone for a moment.
"That is why," continued Fudge, raising his voice to be heard above the noise, "in recognition of his extraordinary services to the wizarding world, his role in exonerating a Lord of an Ancient House, and his courage in the face of darkness... I have decided to award Aurelian Gaunt The Order of Merlin, First Class!"
A gasp of astonishment rippled through the room, followed by thunderous applause. Rita Skeeter looked as if she might faint from excitement, her quill smoking as she wrote the headline "A TRUE SLYTHERIN: YOUNGEST LORD IN HISTORY TO RECEIVE ORDER OF MERLIN."
Aurelian bowed his head with practiced humility.
"I only did my duty, Minister," said Aurelian, his magically amplified voice sounding soft and charismatic. "Truth is the pillar of our society. I am very grateful to have a Minister who knows how to listen to it and steps forward to do the right thing."
Fudge almost cried with pride at the public praise.
Minutes later, when the conference ended and security guards began to disperse the journalists, Fudge accompanied Aurelian to the elevators, away from the hustle and bustle.
The Minister wiped the sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief, but his smile did not fade.
"It's been a triumph, boy! An absolute triumph!" exclaimed Fudge, patting him on the back. "Tomorrow my approval rating will be sky-high, and you... well, you're officially a new national hero."
"I'm glad I could help," Aurelian replied with a calm smile.
Fudge stopped in front of the golden elevator gates and looked at Aurelian with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes.
"You know, Lord Gaunt... this is just the beginning. The Ministry has big plans. Big international plans."
The Minister lowered his voice.
"Your next year at Hogwarts is going to be... different," said Fudge, winking at him. "Let's just say that the school will be much more 'lively' than usual. There will be surprises. Surprises that will bring eternal glory, not only to the students, but to entire nations."
Aurelian raised an eyebrow, knowing exactly what he meant: the Triwizard Tournament.
"A surprise, sir? That sounds intriguing."
"Oh, it will be!" laughed Fudge. "And a wizard of your caliber, with an Order of Merlin on your chest... well, let's just say I expect to see great things from you next year. Great things."
Aurelian smiled politely.
"Don't worry, Minister. I promise that next year will be unforgettable for everyone."
As the elevator doors closed, Aurelian thought about the future. Sirius was free. Peter was on his way to find his father. The entire Black estate would be his, and now the Triwizard Tournament was approaching. Life was definitely smiling on him.
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