The emergency Wizengamot session was already spiralling into chaos.
The lords and ladies of the court were engaged in a heated argument, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of accusations and theories. Some argued about Ministry incompetence, others speculated about the Dark Lord's influence, but all of it blurred into meaningless noise.
Harry sat back in his chair, his arm resting on the armrest, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed. Chief Warlock Greengrass was repeatedly calling for order, but his voice was drowned out by the shouting.
Eventually, Harry had enough. He let his magic seep into his voice, carrying an undeniable weight that rippled through the chamber.
"Enough."
The word echoed in the hall, pressing against the gathered witches and wizards like a firm hand pushing them into silence. The arguments died instantly as heads turned toward him, the magic in his tone lingering in the air like a crackle of lightning.
Harry lowered his hand, his gaze sharp. "It is clear that there has been a breach of protocol. Whether this was the work of the Dark Lord's followers or not, I think we can all agree on one fact, the Dementors act on behalf of the Ministry."
A murmur went through the court. Harry turned to Minister Fudge, his emerald eyes gleaming dangerously. "So tell me, Minister. How did this happen?"
Fudge puffed up, his face red with indignation. "W-Well, it's clear that this is an attempt to discredit the Ministry! A plot by—by You-Know-Who's forces! Yes, that must be it! An elaborate plan to—"
Harry cut him off. "Convenient."
Fudge faltered.
Harry leaned forward slightly. "You've denied his return at every turn, ignored the truth, and now that you're under suspicion, you're finally admitting he exists?"
A few lords snorted in agreement. Fudge's blustering continued, but Umbridge was silent, her expression carefully neutral.
Harry turned to Madame Bones, whose gaze was steady. "What's the protocol for requesting a Dementor?"
She straightened. "Officially, one must send an order to Azkaban with their target's name. That order must come from a recognised authority, the Minister, the Undersecretary, myself, or my Deputy."
She met Harry's eyes and swore firmly, "Neither I nor my people authorised this."
Fudge went pale.
"It must have been You-Know-Who's followers!" he cried, his voice shrill. "This was a plot! A—a manipulation of the system to—"
Another lord scoffed. "Very convenient excuse."
The gathered lords and ladies murmured in agreement, their gazes flicking toward Umbridge, who had yet to say a word.
Harry turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Perhaps we should send an Auror to Azkaban and ask them ourselves."
The murmuring grew louder, an undeniable agreement building in the room.
Umbridge's lips curled into a sickly simper. "Oh, but of course, dear boy! We shouldn't waste their time, I would be happy to go myself and clear the Ministry's good name."
Harry didn't blink. "No."
Umbridge faltered.
Harry leaned forward. "I think everyone in this room should stay put, and we should send trusted Aurors to collect the evidence instead."
"That's nonsense!" Umbridge protested, voice tight with forced laughter. "I am perfectly capable of handling this myself—"
She realised her mistake too late. Several lords narrowed their eyes, while others exchanged suspicious glances. She reached too far.
Chief Warlock Greengrass finally spoke up, his tone cool. "Madame Bones, please send two of your trusted Aurors to investigate immediately."
Madame Bones nodded, expression grim. "Shacklebolt and Dawlish, you will go to Azkaban and retrieve any records of this request."
The two Aurors nodded sharply before turning and striding from the courtroom.
The waiting was tense. Conversations hummed, but everyone was watching Umbridge now, some openly, others subtly. Harry said nothing, merely watching her squirm.
Thirty minutes later, the doors burst open.
Kingsley and Dawlish strode inside, their expressions grave. Kingsley held a parchment in his hand as he approached Lord Greengrass, handing it to him.
The Chief Warlock barely glanced at it before his eyes flashed with fury.
He turned to Umbridge, his voice scathing. "Are you truly this stupid… or just deranged?"
The entire room erupted.
"WHAT?!"
Dawlish's voice cut through the noise. "We found a paper trail." He held up another copy of the order signed in Umbridge's name.
"The request was explicit: Two Dementors are to be dispatched to attack Harry Potter for treason against the Ministry."
The outrage was instant.
Harry's magic flared erratically, causing papers to flutter and torches to flicker. But then he went ice cold.
He slowly turned his gaze to Umbridge, his voice low, dangerous.
"What," he asked softly, "the hell were you thinking?"
Umbridge flinched.
"A child," Harry continued, his voice rising just slightly, barely contained fury beneath his words, "nearly lost his soul."
He stepped closer, his magic pressing against her like a storm, suffocating and impossibly heavy.
"HIS SOUL!"
Umbridge shook under the weight of it, her eyes wide with terror as she lost control of herself, a damp stain spreading down her robes.
She sputtered, her voice shrill, "I—I did it for Cornelius!"
Fudge jerked back as if burned. "I—What? NO! I had nothing to do with this!"
Umbridge's eyes widened in betrayal, but it was too late.
Madame Bones stepped forward, her voice cold and formal. "Dolores Umbridge, by order of this court, you are under arrest."
Umbridge let out a shriek as Aurors moved forward, seizing her arms.
The room descended into shouting, many demanding she be tried right now, but Madame Bones held up a hand.
"This will be investigated fully," she said sharply, her gaze sliding to the sweating Minister, who looked as though he might faint.
From his seat, Fudge suddenly snarled, "You stupid woman!"
Umbridge's face crumbled.
The Aurors dragged her away as the courtroom buzzed with outrage and scandal.
Harry, still standing where he had been, let out a slow breath.
He looked around at the sea of corrupt, self-serving politicians, at the panicked Minister, at the petty infighting that had nearly cost a child his life.
His fingers curled into fists.
This Ministry is full of corrupt idiots.
~
If Harry went to St. Mungo's to visit the boy later with a teddy of a stag. Well, that was his business.
~
It was mid-August when Harry stepped into Grimmauld Place, intent on retrieving a few books from the library.
As soon as his foot crossed the threshold, Walburga Black's portrait erupted into shrieking.
"FILTH! TRAITOROUS HALF-BLOOD SCUM—"
Harry sighed deeply. "Oh, shut up, you screeching old hag."
The portrait spluttered, momentarily taken aback, before Sirius' wand shot out from the kitchen doorway, blasting the curtain closed.
Harry turned to see the Order assembled in the kitchen, an obvious meeting underway. He immediately regretted coming.
Dumbledore's eyes lit up at the sight of him. "Ah, Harry! How fortuitous, you've saved us the trouble of calling upon you."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "I'm only here for a book, not to be called upon."
Dumbledore, unfazed, smiled placidly. "Even so, you must know how proud we are of you. The way you handled the Wizengamot session was masterful. Discrediting the Ministry, forcing them to acknowledge Voldemort's return—"
Harry cut him off coldly. "I didn't save that child for it to become some kind of spectacle." His gaze swept across the room, his voice dripping with quiet warning. "And I'd like to remind everyone here that it was a closed meeting. Meaning that those of you who have been spreading information would be wise to stop before it becomes an issue."
Several people shifted uncomfortably. Lords. Aurors. Idiots.
Dumbledore looked mildly chagrined but was clearly ready to say something else when Sirius clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Come on, pup. Let's find what you need."
Protests immediately rose from the Order, mainly from Molly Weasley, who looked scandalised.
"But he should—"
Arthur's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and yanking her down into her seat. His glare was sharp. "Let it be, Molly."
Harry didn't bother hiding his smirk.
Remus followed them up the stairs, his presence awkward but clearly trying. There was an unspoken tension between them, but Sirius seemed happier with him around, so Harry gave him a pass for now.
"Er... how have you been, Harry?" Remus asked after a moment.
Harry eyed him, then shrugged. "Fine. And you?"
Remus exhaled, as if relieved Harry wasn't outright hostile. "Managing. Better now that Sirius isn't actively trying to hex me."
Sirius snorted. "You deserved it."
Harry chuckled. "Sounds about right."
When they reached the top of the stairs, the twins suddenly popped out from behind a suit of armour.
"Harrykins!" Fred grinned.
"Lord Potter-Black!" George said with an exaggerated bow.
Harry grinned back. "Gred, Forge."
Then Ginny tried to barge into the conversation, pushing between the twins.
"Harry!" she simpered, batting her lashes. "You've been so busy lately. We barely see you."
Harry barely kept from gagging. "Tragic, I'm sure."
Sirius choked on a laugh while Ginny flushed in frustration.
As they neared the library, Ron and Hermione appeared behind them, clearly having followed.
Harry ignored them, unlocked the gate with a flick of his wrist, and stepped inside with Sirius.
The others weren't granted access, and Remus, taking the hint, went back downstairs.
Behind them, Hermione was already ranting.
"This isn't fair!" she fumed. "Knowledge shouldn't be hidden away! The Headmaster will hear about this!"
Her voice faded as she rushed back downstairs, presumably to complain.
Harry rolled his eyes. "She's a lunatic."
Sirius barked out a laugh. "You only just realised?"
Harry searched the shelves, scanning for the book he needed. He frowned when he couldn't find it.
Sirius leaned against a table. "Might be at Blackridge Manor. Most of the library here is just copies."
Harry sighed. "Figures. I'll check there next."
As they stepped out, making their way back downstairs, Dumbledore was waiting, his expression tinged with disappointment.
"What book were you looking for, my boy?" he asked, voice full of gentle concern.
Harry stared at him flatly. "Certainly no business of yours."
Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, if the Order had access to the library—"
Harry's eyes darkened. His magic crackled around him, making the room shiver with pressure.
He sent Dumbledore and Hermione a scathing glare. "Why," he said slowly, voice laced with venom, "would I ever allow thieves access to more of my family's tomes?"
The room fell deathly silent.
Hermione gasped in outrage. "I deserve to see those books!" she snapped. "It's not fair that knowledge is being hidden from me! You've already taken back the tomes I was reading."
Several purebloods recoiled in horror, staring at her as if she had grown an extra head.
Harry let out a short, humourless laugh. "The only thing you deserve is a cell in Azkaban."
Hermione paled.
He took a step closer, eyes flashing dangerously. "With what you and Dumbledore did? It could have been arranged." His voice dropped lower. "You deserve nothing else."
Hermione opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
Dumbledore looked grave, but there was something calculating in his expression.
Harry turned to Sirius and Remus, giving them a curt nod. "See you later."
Without another word, he swept past the silent Order, leaving behind outrage, whispers, and the heavy weight of his parting words.
~
Harry wasn't ready to go back to Hogwarts.
The stares, the gossip, the hero worship, all of it was exhausting.
Avoiding those things had become a skill, but it was one he was tired of using.
He had spent the summer scouring his properties, searching for anything on Horcruxes, souls, and ley lines, but nothing so far was relevant enough to help remove his own Horcrux or assist Luna's situation.
One unexpected moment, however, had been his meeting with his grandparents' portraits.
It turned out that Tilly and the other elves were terrible gossips and had enthusiastically updated the Potter portraits about everything going on.
According to them, their 'strong, handsome, and reckless Master Harry' was doing exceptionally well.
Which led to Dorea Potter staring him down with narrowed eyes before saying, "Adopting dragons? Dragons, Harrison?"
Charlus Potter had choked on his wine in the background, muttering, "Merlin help us."
Dorea continued, unimpressed. "Are you planning to give me human great-grandchildren, or do I have to settle for fire-breathing ones?"
Harry had stuttered wildly, which only led to booming laughter from Charlus, delighted snickers from several other Potter ancestors, and Tilly nodding proudly in the background.
He left the conversation quickly after that.
His mind drifted back to Grimbok's progress on locating the other Horcruxes.
The goblin had employed several of the curse breakers from his clan, all sworn to secrecy.
Progress was slow, but soul magic was dangerous, and they had to be careful. It could take months.
Harry hated the wait, but rushing it could be worse.
Now though, he was back at Hogwarts. He sat next to Luna, who looked more at ease than she had in weeks.
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked, watching as she idly arranged her utensils into geometric patterns.
"Better," Luna said with a small smile. "Tazgira helped yesterday. My magic feels... less tangled."
Harry's gaze softened. "Good."
Across from them, Anthony shifted uncomfortably, his shiny new Prefect badge catching the candlelight.
"I—I feel a bit guilty," he admitted. "That should've been yours, Harry. You had the best grades again last year. And all of your achievements…"
Harry shrugged. "I get into far too much trouble for that."
Anthony still looked unconvinced. "Yeah, but—"
"Forget it, Tony." Harry smirked. "I'm not about to start handing out detentions, am I?"
Anthony snorted. "Fair point."
Terry, sitting a few seats down, leaned over. "Speaking of terrible choices. How the hell did Weasley and Granger get Prefect?"
Michael scoffed. "They must've done something for Dumbledore."
"Not that kind of something," Terry grimaced. "Merlin forbid."
Harry shook his head. "Whatever they did, it's not my concern."
Luna tilted her head. "And what about him?"
Harry followed her gaze to the Head Table, where Dumbledore sat, beaming at the students as if he weren't a complete fraud.
Harry narrowed his eyes, annoyance flaring in his chest.
The man had somehow managed to avoid being sacked, despite everything.
The idea of dragging him through a legal hellscape was tempting.
But…
He forced himself to breathe. Would Voldemort think twice if Dumbledore were here?
…Reluctantly, he admitted that maybe he would.
For now.
Dumbledore stood, clapping his hands to bring attention to the podium.
"Welcome back, dear students! Before we feast, I am pleased to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor—Auror Gawain Robards!"
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood up, nodding once to the room.
The Ravenclaws exchanged glances.
Terry muttered, "At least he looks competent."
Michael whispered, "That's what we said about Moody."
Anthony sighed. "That wasn't really Moody, though."
Harry said nothing, still watching Dumbledore.
Luna tilted her head. "You're glaring, Harry."
Harry smirked. "Am I?"
Luna hummed.
The food appeared, and the chatter resumed, but Harry's thoughts remained elsewhere.
He hoped this defence professor wasn't one of Dumbledore's.
~
Robards turned out to be an excellent teacher, focusing more on practical battle spells and protection rather than drowning them in theory.
It would be a shame if he turned out to be a Death Eater, but so far, so good.
One day during class, Robards finally asked, "Potter, how did you learn the Patronus Charm?"
Harry blinked at the sudden question. Around him, his classmates leaned in with interest.
"I started learning at thirteen," Harry admitted, shrugging. "But it wasn't fully corporeal until a dementor attack at a Quidditch match."
Robards raised a brow. "You produced a Patronus at thirteen?"
Harry nodded. "I learned against a boggart that turned into a dementor."
Robards stared at him for a long moment before exhaling. "That's… unusual."
Harry just smiled slightly. "I get that a lot."
The professor's lips quirked. "Would you be willing to help teach the students alongside me? Perhaps even some of the younger years?"
Harry hesitated. "I'd have to talk to Professor Flitwick. I don't want to miss lessons."
Robards nodded approvingly. "Good thinking. Perhaps one day a week, then."
Once the plans were set, Blaise wasted no time teasing him.
"Well, well, Potter. You're going to be gathering quite the flock."
Harry raised a brow. "What?"
Blaise smirked. "Your little ducklings, those younger students who practically worship you."
Harry rolled his eyes and shoved Blaise, but he didn't really mind.
~
The library deep beneath Hogwarts was as silent as ever, illuminated only by floating lanterns and the soft glow of enchanted torches. Harry sat alone, flipping through an ancient text while Salazars portrait watched him.
"You look frustrated, child."
Harry sighed, closing the book with a thud. "Because I am."
Salazar hummed. "Your search is not yielding results?"
"Nothing on removing a Horcrux from a living soul. Nothing about Luna's condition, either."
The portrait tilted his head. "You seek answers to questions most would not dare to ask."
Harry snorted. "Yeah, well, I don't have much of a choice."
Salazar observed him for a moment before nodding. "Then perhaps it is time we look in less conventional places."
Harry arched a brow. "What do you mean?"
The portrait's lips curved into a cryptic smile. "I may not be able to help with your soul issue, but the ley lines I can."
Harry exhaled sharply, his determination renewed.
Salazar's sharp gaze settled on Harry, his expression thoughtful. "Tell me, child, has Uncle Ignotus shared our family's true history with you yet?"
Harry blinked. "Uncle?"
Salazar smirked. "Ah, suppose he makes you call him Grandfather. How typically dramatic of him."
Harry huffed. "He's mentioned their history, how they had to leave their home, but I wasn't aware you were so closely related." Thinking he should probably take out the family tree that was gathering dust at the cove.
Salazar leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming with something close to amusement. "My grandfather was Cadmus Peverell."
Harry's breath hitched. "The one with the Resurrection Stone?"
"The very same," Salazar confirmed. "Most assume he married into the Slytherin line later in life, but that is incorrect." His expression turned pensive. "My mother was his daughter, born from an arranged marriage. A very unhappy one."
Harry frowned. "Arranged?"
Salazar nodded. "Cadmus insulted a powerful lord one day, something reckless, some grief-driven slight, and was forced to marry the man's daughter in retaliation."
Harry winced. "Because of the woman he lost."
"Yes." Salazar's lips pressed into a thin line. "Cadmus never moved on. Even after my mother was born, his grief consumed him. One day, he simply…" He made a small, decisive gesture. "Ended it."
Harry swallowed. "Your mother was still a child?"
Salazar nodded. "She was raised by Uncle Ignotus, who took her in alongside his own daughter. She was family to him. But she later married my father—" His expression darkened. "A vile man."
Harry sat up straighter. "What was his name?"
Salazar's lip curled slightly. "Marcellus Slytherin."
Harry committed the name to memory. "What happened?"
"My mother often sent me to Uncle Ignotus when things grew dangerous at home," Salazar admitted. "But one day, things… escalated. My father killed my mother. Then himself."
Harry inhaled sharply. "Merlin…"
"Uncle Ignotus raised me after that," Salazar said simply. "I was never named heir, though. The Peverell ring did not choose me."
Harry tilted his head. "Did that bother you?"
Salazar gave a short, amused chuckle. "Not in the slightest. Ignotus still taught me everything about our family's past."
Harry leaned forward. "Including the part about them traveling from another world?"
Salazar's eyes glinted with approval. "Indeed."
Harry took a deep breath. "How does this help with Luna's problem?"
Salazar's smirk faded. "Her problem, child, is her connection to the ley lines of this world."
Harry's brow furrowed. "Yes, we think her ancestors magic is forcing itself through the ley lines to find a host again."
Salazar nodded. "It is inherited. It does not belong to the ley lines of this land, which is why it is trying to force itself through her, often through visions due to the nature of an Oracle's magic."
Harry frowned. "So we need to… sever the connection?"
"And replace the energy, yes?" Salazar prompted.
Harry hesitated. "But with what?"
Salazar's lips curled into a knowing smile. "The second world the Peverells were sent to did not have ley lines as we know them. It had concentrated energy sites, yes, but the magic functioned differently."
Harry's mind raced. "But it still resonated with our family's magic?"
Salazar nodded. "It was compatible, despite its differences."
Harry suddenly sat bolt upright, his entire body tense with realisation.
"If we can sever Luna's connection to the ley lines here," he breathed, his heart pounding, "and replace it with a new source of compatible energy…"
Salazar's smirk widened. "Ah. You see it now."
Harry was already thinking ahead, running through the logistics, the risks, the possibilities.
It was like… a magical dialysis.
A controlled energy exchange, replacing the one that was slowly destroying her.
His pulse thundered. "Is that possible? To travel back to this world?"
Salazar gave a casual shrug. "Magic evolves all the time, child. Ask Uncle Ignotus about the methods, it was the one thing he never shared with me." Harry was already deciding how to convince Ignotus to share the method.
Before Harry could say another word, the chamber doors burst open.
Luna rushed in, breathless, eyes wide.
Harry turned to her, startled. "Luna?"
She stopped just in front of him, gripping his wrist tightly.
"What did you just do?" she whispered.
Harry blinked. "What?"
Luna's chest rose and fell quickly, her fingers digging into his sleeve.
"What did you just decide?" she demanded. "Because I just had a vision."
Harry's stomach dropped.
Luna's fingers tightened around his wrist.
"I saw myself," she whispered, voice trembling. "For the first time ever…"
She looked up at him, eyes shining with something indescribable and tears escaping slowly.
"I saw myself old."
Harry gave a small breathless laugh and shared a look with Salazar, before lifting Luna and twirling her making her laugh with him. He could help her; he knew it now.
~
Harry's mind was still swirling with thoughts of his possible solution for Luna. He hadn't told her or the others yet, considering it was a family secret, he needed to speak with Ignotus first. He would need to find a day to leave to the Keep.
The end of October was approaching fast, and things were progressing well with the Patronus lessons. The first session was set for October 31st, during the morning on a Saturday.
Harry stood alongside Robards, watching as the group of third-years focused on their casting. The first session had been planned as a test, to see how difficult it would be for them to grasp the concept.
Surprisingly, the kids looked up to Harry with awe.
He had always been good with kids, especially the Slytherin outcasts, who gravitated toward him despite Malfoy and his lot's disapproval.
Harry smirked at one of them. "Come on, little hatchling, you can do better than that."
The boy, a nervous-looking Slytherin with dark curls, straightened and gave it another go.
The lesson was a massive success. By the end of the session, all of the students were at least producing mist, with a few managing thin, wispy forms.
Robards was genuinely impressed. "It takes most adults a long time to reach this stage," he admitted. "I'm confident they'll conjure full Patroni soon."
Harry and his friends were making their way to dinner, laughter and light-hearted teasing exchanged between them.
A thud echoed across the hall as the evening edition of The Daily Prophet was dropped onto the tables.
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN!
The blood drained from Neville's face as he stared at the front page.
There was a large moving photo of the Lestrange's, Bellatrix's face twisting with malicious glee as she laughed.
Harry's stomach churned. He could feel Neville shaking, his breath coming out short and shallow.
Luna immediately reached for Neville's hand, while Theo placed a steadying grip on his shoulder.
Harry clenched his fists as his eyes scanned further down the article.
Bartemius Crouch Jr. and—
Peter Pettigrew.
His hands tightened around the paper.
A flutter of wings startled him out of his rage as a letter landed on his plate.
An emergency Wizengamot meeting had been called immediately.
Harry let out a slow, steady breath and summoned his Wizengamot robes.
"I need to go," he muttered, getting up. "Flitwick needs to know I'll be back tomorrow."
As he turned, Dumbledore appeared, his usual twinkle notably absent.
"This is a most pressing matter," the Headmaster said lightly. "Perhaps I could accompany you as your guest?"
Harry stopped walking, then turned fully to face him. His emerald gaze was icy.
"Shouldn't you be keeping order here at Hogwarts?" he asked coolly.
Dumbledore stilled before offering a slight, disappointed smile. "Of course, my boy."
Harry didn't spare him another glance.
Instead, he turned back to Neville, gripping his shoulder gently. "You gonna be okay?"
Neville exhaled shakily but nodded. "Yeah. Just… processin'."
Harry glanced at his friends. "Keep an eye on him, yeah?"
Theo frowned slightly, shifting on his feet. "Be careful, Harry." His voice was low, and there was something genuine and fearful in his gaze.
Harry gave him a small, reassuring smile before slipping out of the hall.
The moment he reached an empty alcove, he vanished with a sharp crack, utilising the perks of being the Heir of Slytherin.
Reappearing within the Ministry, he was instantly met with the blinding flash of cameras and the shouting of reporters.
"Lord Potter-Black! What are your thoughts on the—"
"Harry! Will you confirm—"
"Was this You-Know-Who's doing?!"
Harry didn't acknowledge them.
His expression remained steely and unreadable as he strode through the chaos, his Wizengamot robes billowing behind him, and entered the chambers without so much as a backward glance.
~
Harry sat in his seat at the Wizengamot session, arms crossed as the room descended into chaos. Lords and Ladies shouted over one another, their voices clashing in a cacophony of blame and outrage.
The Dark faction, however, remained infuriatingly smug, Theo's father and Malfoy included.
Harry's eyes flicked to the Lestrange seat, currently vacant but not for long. He had no doubt that one of the remaining Lestrange's would soon be making their way to Gringotts to claim their Lordship. He was just grateful he had freed Altair when he did, otherwise, he might have been forced to steal him, a move that would have landed him in far more trouble.
I need to speak with Grimbok after this, Harry thought grimly. If the Lestranges are regaining control of their vault, then that Horcrux inside will be accessible again.
The shouting began to die down, and Harry leaned forward, voice calm but firm.
"This was a bold move from Voldemort," he said, his words carrying across the chamber. "It's clear that we're beyond political debates and posturing. We need to enter wartime protocols."
A murmur of agreement swept through the Light faction, while the Dark faction, predictably—immediately voiced their disapproval.
"Ridiculous," Malfoy sneered. "All this panic, and we don't even know if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was truly behind this."
Lord Avery nodded, his expression carefully neutral. "If anything, it proves that the Ministry has failed. Perhaps a change in leadership is needed."
Lord Abbott scoffed. "Oh, how convenient. No doubt that would make things easier for the Death Eater scum in here, wouldn't it?"
The room erupted again, barbs being thrown back and forth.
Harry barely resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.
Fudge was looking utterly out of his depth, sputtering about handling the situation, but his weak attempts at control only made it worse.
"Order!" Greengrass snapped, banging his gavel.
Madame Bones stood, her voice cutting through the din. "We need to discuss our next course of action. These criminals have been released, what is the plan?"
Lord Macmillan leaned forward. "We need Auror task forces assigned to hunt them down. Immediately."
"I'll mobilise my best," Bones confirmed. "But we also have other concerns—"
"Like the Dementors," Lord Greengrass interjected, his mouth twisted into a frown. "They allowed every single prisoner to walk out without resistance."
A ripple of unease spread through the chamber.
Lord Parkinson scoffed. "That is no surprise. Dementors will always side with the most power."
Robust debate broke out once more. Harry sat back, listening carefully.
A sharp cough from Dawlish silenced the room. "There's another matter," he said grimly. "Dolores Umbridge is dead."
Silence fell.
"…What?" Lord Davis murmured.
Dawlish nodded. "She was mauled in Azkaban. The reports suggest a Werewolf played a role. Most likely Greyback."
A few of the Light faction exchanged dark looks, but none of them looked particularly shocked or sad about it.
"So," Lord Yaxley drawled. "It seems the Dementors and Werewolves have already chosen their side." Looking very smug about it all.
Harry exhaled through his nose. Of course they have.
The discussion turned to other neutral factions.
"The werewolf packs," Greengrass said coolly. "Do we know where they stand?"
Lord Selwyn frowned. "Greyback will follow the Dark Lord. But the others?"
"There are independent packs," Madame Bones said. "I will reach out."
"And the Vampire Kisses?" Lord Macmillan asked.
Malfoy smirked slightly. "Oh? Hoping to recruit monsters to your cause?"
Harry sneered in response. "Funny, I was about to say the same to you. But then again, you already have the Dementors on your side."
Malfoy's eyes flashed. "Watch yourself, Potter."
Harry's smirk turned mocking. "Tell me, Malfoy… does your Master know about your little folly in second year? Perhaps your esteemed colleagues will pass it on." Looking at a few of the known death eaters.
The room went silent and Malfoy's pale face went white.
Harry leaned back, satisfied.
This meeting was a mess but at least he put Malfoy in his place.
~
The Wizengamot meeting ended with little progress, the only decision made was to issue notices for each escaped prisoner.
Harry left the chambers swiftly, his veil hiding him from view once he apparated to Diagon.
He had noticed men trailing him, their presence just subtle enough to be professionals.
He wasn't sure if they were Death Eaters or Order members, but he didn't recognise them, which was enough reason to be cautious.
Harry lowered his veil the moment he stepped into Grimbok's office, startling the goblin.
Grimbok scowled. "Bloody hell, Harrison. Do you always have to sneak in like that?"
Harry gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry. Had to avoid a few stalkers on my way here."
The goblin grumbled but gestured for him to sit. "What brings you here?"
Harry leaned forward. "Has a new Lord Lestrange been confirmed yet?"
Grimbok frowned. "Not that I've heard. The Bloodfang clan has been… unusually subdued ever since you humiliated their warriors."
Harry snorted. "Still salty about that?"
Grimbok's lips twitched. "Oh, undoubtedly."
Harry took a breath. "I think there's a Horcrux in the Lestrange vault."
The goblin stiffened, eyes narrowing. "You're certain?"
Harry shook his head. "Not completely. But I need to get closer to confirm it. It makes sense, though. Voldemort trusted the Malfoys with one, and the Lestranges are even more loyal."
Grimbok's expression darkened. "This is… concerning."
Harry nodded. "Which is why we need a plan. Can we remove it or replace it with a fake?"
Grimbok drummed his fingers against his desk. "I'll have to bring this to the King. He's already aware of our Horcrux project and has permitted the locket to be housed in Birch's account, but a Horcrux he didn't know about?" He let out a low growl. "He may draw the line."
Harry frowned. "Because it's Black Magic?"
Grimbok nodded. "That, and its influence on those around it is unacceptable. We may be able to trick them long enough to not notice it's missing."
Harry exhaled. "Maybe… maybe we can use both Horcruxes to help us locate the others faster."
Grimbok considered it. "It's a risk. But not impossible."
The conversation shifted.
Grimbok sighed, rubbing his temple. "Still no success with removing yours?"
Harry leaned back, mirroring the goblin's exhausted expression. "Nothing. You?"
Grimbok shook his head. "Not yet."
A long silence stretched between them before Harry sighed. "Brilliant."
Grimbok studied him for a moment before muttering, "You look tired, Harrison."
Harry smirked. "You look worse. Get some rest, yeah? Tazgira and your boys have probably forgotten what you look like."
Grimbok let out a rough chuckle before pointing to the door. "Get out of my office, Potter."
Harry laughed as he stood. "See you soon, Grimbok. I'll get Tilly to sneak me in near the vault later to confirm if it's a horcrux or not."
The goblin just grunted, but the smirk remained as Harry slipped away.
Later that day he sent a note to Grimbok saying: Confirmed.
~
Not much had happened since the Azkaban breakout, but Harry sometimes felt a malicious glee creeping at the edges of his emotions when he didn't reinforce his shields, emotions that weren't his own.
Voldemort.
Harry pushed the thought aside, instead focusing on the present.
Harry hesitated, feeling sombre. He hadn't told his friends yet.
Not about the Horcruxes.
But tonight… he decided he would.
He looked up, gaze sweeping over them. "Before I say anything… I need you all to swear to secrecy."
Theo frowned. "You know we'd never—"
"I trust you," Harry interrupted, "but this isn't just about trust. It's about your safety. If you don't know something, you can't be forced to tell."
The air grew heavy before, one by one, they swore an oath of silence.
Harry took a deep breath. "What I'm about to tell you… it's the reason Voldemort didn't die that night in Godric's Hollow."
The tension in the room spiked.
"A Horcrux," Harry continued, "is an object that holds a piece of someone's soul. As long as the Horcrux exists, they can't truly die."
Neville stiffened. "He… made those?"
Harry nodded. "The diary from second year? That was one."
Blaise sucked in a breath. "That explains why we were so easily manipulated by it. Such dark magic."
Harry clenched his fists trying not to think about Tom. "And while clearing Grimmauld Place, we found another. Regulus Black found out what Voldemort had done, and he tried to stop it."
Their expressions turned grim.
"We're going to destroy them all," Harry said, voice firm. "One by one."
There was no hesitation. They were in.
But Theo was still watching him closely.
"Harry…" he murmured. "There's something else, isn't there?"
Harry felt a lump in his throat.
Slowly, he nodded. "One of the Horcruxes… is in me."
Neville spoke first, blunt as always. "Alright. Then we just take it out."
Theo's expression darkened. "It's not that easy, is it?"
Harry didn't respond.
Luna, silent until now, whispered, "Destroy the vessel… destroy the soul."
The room exploded.
"NO!" Neville shouted, standing so fast his chair scraped against the stone.
Blaise's hands clenched into fists, his normally calm face twisted in anger.
Luna sat silently crying, as if she had known all along.
"It doesn't make sense," she whispered brokenly. "I've seen your future, Harry. But I've also seen your death."
Theo's eyes flashed with frustration. "Then maybe we should just leave. We don't have to do this! We can petition for protection!"
Blaise shook his head sharply. "That's stupid. What kind of life would that be? Always running, always hiding?"
He exhaled heavily. "And do you really think the Dark Lord would let a piece of his soul roam free?"
Theo looked away, jaw clenched.
Neville finally spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "Not that it matters. Harry wouldn't do that."
He turned to Harry, a small, wry smile on his face. "You wouldn't just walk away, would you?"
Harry's throat tightened.
No.
He couldn't.
Not when innocent children would suffer under Voldemort's reign.
Not when his friends would suffer.
Harry exhaled shakily. "No." His voice was rough, raw. "I couldn't."
~
December had settled over the Cove, the cold sea breeze crisp but refreshing. Harry stood near the cliffs, watching the waves crash below when he heard a loud pop behind him.
Sirius appeared, grinning mischievously, his hair windblown and his coat half-buttoned.
"Had to dodge Remus when I left Grimmauld," he admitted. "Man's got a sixth sense when it comes to me sneaking off."
Harry chuckled. "So long as you're happy, Padfoot."
Sirius stretched, rolling his shoulders. "Happier than I've been in a long time."
Harry let out a satisfied hum. Then, Sirius' expression turned serious. "Listen, pup. I've heard something interesting. The Order is guarding a prophecy."
Harry blinked. "A prophecy?"
Sirius nodded. "They try to keep me out of those meetings, but luckily, our favourite menaces—"
"The twins," Harry said, smirking.
"Exactly. Best investment you ever made." Sirius grinned. "They've been passing along bits of information they hear from Bill."
Harry frowned. "You ever hear about a prophecy before?"
Sirius' brow furrowed. "Not much. There was something mentioned when your parents went into hiding, but they never told me details. Probably Dumbledore's doing."
Harry exhaled. "So, this is what the Order is guarding, then?"
Sirius leaned against a rock. "There's a Hall of Prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. If there's something about you there, you should be able to take it."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Should?"
Sirius shrugged. "Otherwise, there's a rumour that people go mad trying."
Harry snorted. "Brilliant."
Sirius smirked. "You could ask Madame Bones. She seems to love you. She has access, one of the few besides the Unspeakables. Might be able to sneak you down there when the Ministry is quiet."
Harry pulled out some parchment and quickly wrote a letter, tying it to Hedwig's leg. "Guess we'll find out." Then getting interrupted by his dragons loud roars.
His hatchlings were thriving.
Altair, always the biggest, had gone through another growth spurt since gaining weight, his form massive. Nox had already surpassed the normal height for a Norwegian Ridgeback, her midnight scales gleaming in the light.
Lyra remained sleek and elegant, but her three hatchlings, two girls and a boy, were now about half her height and incredibly mischievous.
Harry grinned as one of the hatchlings tried to pounce on him.
"All right, you little troublemakers," he laughed, scratching the boy under his chin. "I think you need names, don't you?"
He glanced at the sky and smiled. "What about Vega, Cassiopeia, and Orion."
Lyra snorted approvingly, her tail flicking over the ground as the three little dragons chirped excitedly.
Altair nudged Harry's shoulder, making a pleased rumble.
"You're looking better, love," Harry murmured, pressing his forehead against Altair's snout. "And you're definitely not done growing yet."
Sirius stood nearby, watching with clear amusement. "Still find it mad that you've got a whole damn dragon sanctuary."
Harry smirked. "You shouldn't be surprised."
"I'm not," Sirius admitted, then his grin turned wicked. "So… how's Charlie?"
Harry groaned. "Not you too."
Sirius cackled. "I'm just saying, he's dragon-mad, fit as hell, and practically worships you."
Harry shook his head, amused but exasperated. "I might have pursued something, but now isn't the time. Besides, Luna said there's someone specific waiting for me."
Sirius' smirk softened slightly. "Yeah?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah."
Sirius sighed dramatically. "Shame. He's hot, though."
Harry snorted and fist-bumped him. "Scalding."
~
That night a response arrived from Madame Bones.
She agreed to meet on December 18th, in the evening, when the Ministry was quiet.
~
Harry was just finishing up the fifth and sixth-year Defence class, their final Patronus lesson.
Truthfully, he was pleased.
Robards, too, looked shocked by how many students had managed to create a fully corporeal Patronus.
"You've done some impressive work, Potter," Robards admitted, clapping him on the shoulder. "Most Aurors don't see this kind of success in training."
Harry smiled. "Guess they just needed the right motivation."
The lesson had gone well, though Malfoy and his cronies had tested his patience. At one point, Robards had to step in. "Enough. If you don't want to take this seriously, get out."
That shut them up quickly.
As the students were packing up, Blaise sidled up next to Harry, smirking.
"You've got quite the admirers," Blaise teased. "Seems like half the girls in this room were casting Patronuses just to impress you."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Not interested."
Blaise chuckled, tilting his head toward Cho Chang, who was not-so-subtly watching Harry with a dreamy gaze.
"She's been trying to get you alone for weeks now," Blaise muttered. "And not just to chat."
Harry exhaled sharply. "Brilliant."
Apparently, Diggory had dumped her last year after catching her cosying up to a Durmstrang student. Now, she was on the hunt for a replacement, and Harry had no interest in becoming one.
His friends had agreed to cover for him, knowing he had to meet Madame Bones after this.
But just as he was about to leave the classroom, a hand grabbed his arm.
Before he could react, his face was yanked down, lips aiming for his own.
Harry's instincts kicked in.
He twisted sharply, redirecting the attacker, and threw them against the wall.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snapped, eyes blazing.
Cho stared at him, wide-eyed, her lip trembling. "Harry—"
Harry's expression was pure disgust. "Are you that shameless. You don't force yourself on people."
Her face crumpled, but Harry could see through the crocodile tears. "I—I just miss being held, Harry," she whimpered. "I miss having someone to love me, we could—"
"Bullshit."
Cho flinched.
Harry stepped back, exhaling sharply. "If you ever do something like this again, I will report it to Flitwick."
Cho let out a humiliated sob and ran from the room.
Unfortunately for her, her friends had been waiting outside.
Some of them, rather than comforting her, were laughing.
Harry's anger flared. "Leave. Now."
They scurried away quickly.
His stomach twisted at the memory of her lips nearly touching his.
The thought of being forced like that made him feel physically ill, especially by someone like her.
Shaking off his unease, he quickly slipped his veil over himself, disappearing into the corridors.
When he arrived at the Ministry, it was winding down for the evening, and Harry moved unseen, waiting for the last of the Aurors to leave.
When her office was finally empty, he dropped his veil.
Amelia startled, hand reaching instinctively for her wand before she relaxed. "Merlin's beard! How did you get in without anyone seeing you?"
Harry smiled. "I thought it would be best to make this a private trip."
Amelia frowned. "Because of a prophecy?"
Harry nodded. "Considering both Voldemort and Dumbledore are after it. I think it's time we take it out of their grasp entirely."
She considered his words carefully. "I don't disagree. Well, let's get going before the shift change."
"Would you mind if I cover you with my spell?" Amelia hesitated but agreed. Her shocked look when no one took any notice of them was a little amusing.
They fell into step, making their way through the Ministry. As they walked, Amelia sighed talking about their progress with the escaped death eaters. "I've been trying to track down the escaped Death Eaters… but I don't know who I can trust anymore."
Harry glanced at her. "I'm doing what I can, but this isn't the place to talk about it and I certainly can't let it get out."
Amelia studied him. "I suppose you would make it your business to know everything about them."
Harry gave her a meaningful look. "If I'm going to trust you with everything I know, I need to be sure it stays between us. Truthfully, I think we might have a couple of months before Voldemort shows himself, things are being put into motion too fast."
Amelia exhaled slowly. "Give me some time to think about it. I am the head of the DMLE, I can't get involved in anything illegal."
Harry nodded. "Fair enough."
They moved stealthily through the corridors.
As they neared the Department of Mysteries, they spotted Arthur Weasley loitering nearby.
Amelia frowned. "It's strange for him to be on this floor."
Harry murmured, "Dumbledore has his people everywhere. He's trying to protect the prophecy."
Further ahead, they spotted two known Death Eaters, looking shifty as well.
Amelia's lips pressed into a thin line. "Looks like we're not the only ones interested in it tonight."
Harry's grip on his wand tightened.
Fortunately, they managed to slip past unnoticed, stepping into the Department of Mysteries.
Amelia turned to Harry, her voice low but firm. "We have to pass through a few rooms to reach the Hall of Prophecy. Stay close, the rooms in the Department of Mysteries are unpredictable. They can shift and deceive you at any moment."
Harry nodded. "Got it."
She opened the first door, and for a moment, the air shimmered like a mirage before settling into place.
The room was filled with magical artifacts, shelves stacked with objects humming with energy.
Harry's gaze swept the space before landing on a familiar sight. Rows upon rows of delicate hourglasses glowed with a faint golden light. His eyes narrowed. Time Turners.
As they walked past them, he casually asked, "So… why would the Ministry give a Time Turner to a twelve-year-old girl?"
Amelia froze mid-step, turning to him with an incredulous expression. "Excuse me? The Ministry would never allow someone outside of it to use a time turner!"
Harry sighed. "I should've known. It was probably Dumbledore."
Amelia crossed her arms. "Explain. Now."
Harry huffed a small laugh. "Dumbledore arranged for Hermione Granger to get a Time Turner in third year, just so she could take two or three extra classes. I know for a fact she nearly ran into herself more than once, and worse, she used it to follow me on Dumbledore's orders all the time."
Amelia's expression darkened, her jaw clenching. "That is insanely irresponsible. A child wielding time magic, do you have any idea how many rules that breaks?"
Harry gave her a knowing look. "I have a pretty good idea, yeah."
She shook her head, clearly furious. "I swear, Dumbledore gets away with far too much. He's practically broke now, thanks to the goblins, but a man of his character shouldn't be allowed anywhere near children. He should be in Azkaban for all of his exploits."
Harry smirked. "Want a full list? I can get you one."
Amelia shot him a sharp look before huffing out a reluctant laugh. "Just keep moving, Potter."
They reached another door, and upon stepping inside, the temperature dropped noticeably.
Harry frowned. "What is this place?"
Amelia's voice was subdued. "The Death Chamber."
A low, whispering sound curled through the air, making Harry's skin prickle.
"Do you hear that?"
Amelia's head snapped toward him, eyes widening slightly. "Hear what?"
Harry ignored her, following the whispers deeper into the room.
At the centre stood a large stone archway, an ancient veil of shadows fluttering within it, despite the absence of any wind.
Amelia hesitated. "Be careful. That archway, it's called the Veil. No one who steps through it ever comes back."
Harry studied the runes etched into the stone. He traced the symbols with his eyes, his magic humming in recognition.
"It's connected to souls," he murmured. "A doorway between… something."
His hand lifted instinctively, fingertips hovering just above the cool surface of the stone.
A pull. A deep, aching familiarity.
Harry stiffened, forcing himself to step back.
In another life, he might have touched it, might have fallen through and been reborn into another world, trying to follow after a man that fell through.
But not in this life.
Amelia, watching him closely, reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Come on. This room gives me the chills."
As they left, Harry exhaled slowly, shaking off the lingering sensation.
Still, he couldn't ignore the fact that his magic resonated with the Veil.
He should look into that.
They finally reached the Hall of Prophecy.
The vast, dimly lit chamber stretched before them, shelves upon shelves lined with glowing orbs.
They had just pressed against the wall when a figure in black robes drifted past them.
The figure paused, as if sensing something, but after a long moment, continued walking out of the chamber.
Harry let out a slow breath. Amelia frowned. "I hate skulking around like this."
Harry smirked slightly. "You're an Auror. I thought you'd be good at it."
She shot him a look but sighed. "The real problem is that I don't know who to trust anymore."
Harry hummed in agreement. "We'll figure that out later. For now, let's find the damn prophecy."
They moved carefully down the aisles, stopping when they reached the section labelled P.
Thousands of orbs glowed softly in the dim light.
As they moved deeper into the Hall of Prophecy, Harry felt a strange unease settle over him.
Then, he stopped short.
Because coming to a stop, he saw his name. Not just once, but several times.
Amelia noticed his hesitation. "Take them," she said. "If they're about you, then you can take them."
Harry exhaled and hesitantly reached out to grasp the first one, reading the label carefully before picking it up.
The moment his fingers touched the smooth glass, a faint, whispering voice echoed in his mind. A voice he recognised immediately.
Pandora. He had almost forgotten what she sounded like.
His throat tightened, tears gathering in his eyes as the remnants of her voice swirled inside the orb. He quickly cleared his throat, carefully placing it into his satchel.
The next few he found sounded eerily like Luna, making his chest tighten in anxiety. How did they capture her prophecies?
Finally, one specific prophecy caught his attention.
S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D.Dark Lord to (?) Harry Potter.
Well, that confirmed Dumbledore's involvement, who else would have such obnoxious initials.
Harry's jaw tightened as he grasped the orb, what sounded like Trelawney's voice echoing faintly in his head.
Before he could dwell on it, a noise echoed through the chamber.
Amelia tensed. "Time to go." She whispered.
Harry nodded, but just as they turned, his gaze landed on another prophecy.
It had his name and Dumbledore's written on it.
His stomach churned and without hesitation, he grabbed it, stuffing it into his satchel with the others.
As they emerged back onto the floor where Arthur had been loitering earlier, Harry suddenly threw an arm in front of Amelia, stopping her in her tracks.
Amelia frowned. "What is it?"
Harry's scar prickled, and his magic coiled uneasily. "There's a snake nearby."
Amelia stiffened. "How do you—?"
Harry barely heard her, his senses on high alert.
The hissing in his ears was malicious, familiar.
Then they heard shouts of spell fire that echoed down the corridor.
They ran quickly towards it, finding Arthur bleeding out on the floor.
No sign of a snake, only the pool of blood spreading out beneath him.
"Damn it!" Amelia hissed.
Harry ripped his veil away, revealing them to the room before dropping to Arthur's side.
His hands pressed firmly against the wound at Arthur's neck, trying to stem the bleeding.
"Arthur? Stay with me." His voice was urgent, his magic pulsing as he tried to slow the venom's effect.
Amelia snapped her wand up, sending a bright silver falcon soaring into the air. "Emergency medical transport, venomous snake bite! We're on Level Nine!"
Harry gritted his teeth, his fingers pressing harder against the wound. "Amelia, do you have a Bezoar?!"
She swore. "I don't carry one!"
"Damn it!" Harry growled, focusing all his willpower into forcing healing intent into Arthur's wound.
The blood wasn't clotting.
"The venom must have an anti-coagulant," Amelia muttered grimly.
Harry didn't respond, he was too focused.
The moment the Healers arrived, Harry pulled back slightly, his hands covered in Arthur's blood.
The lead Healer barked orders. "Get him stable for transport!"
Aurors appeared seconds later, wands raised.
Amelia's face was like stone. "Find. The. Snake."
As Arthur was lifted onto a magical stretcher, Harry forced himself to breathe.
He needed to warn the others.
Raising his wand, he cast a swift Patronus.
"Tell Charlie and the twins, Arthur's been attacked. He's on his way to St. Mungo's now."
The silvery stag bowed its head before bounding off.
As the corridor buzzed with activity, Harry stood still, his mind whirling.
It must have been Nagini, but why was she here.
~
He wished he hadn't come back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore was such a pest, he thought.
The old man had cornered Harry, asking what had happened at the Ministry and why he was there.
Each time, Harry gave him the same calm, dismissive response.
"I had business with Madame Bones. That's no concern of yours."
That hadn't stopped Dumbledore from pressing further.
"You will spend the holidays with the Weasleys at Grimmauld Place, of course, it's the safest place for you," Dumbledore insisted, his voice ever-gentle, as if he were guiding a wayward child.
Harry gave him a flat look. "No."
Dumbledore's smile didn't falter. "I must insist—"
Harry turned to the twins who were standing with the rest of the Weasleys about to floo to St. Mungo's, ignoring Dumbledore entirely. "I hope your father pulls through, alright."
Fred and George nodded solemnly, gratitude in their eyes. For once, Ron and Ginny were completely silent.
Harry was glad he had thought to vanish the blood from his robes before arriving.
Then, finally, he turned back to Dumbledore.
"I've got my own plans for the Yule holidays," he said, his tone cool. "And they don't involve staying in Grimmauld or Hogwarts."
Before Dumbledore could respond, Harry strode out of the room, ignoring his shouted protests.
~
Harry stepped into the chamber the next day to find Luna already waiting for him, her small hand wrapping around his own as soon as he was close enough.
"You're alright," she murmured, as if reassuring herself.
"I'm fine," Harry said softly, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.
Theo entered a moment later, pale and stiff, his sharp eyes scanning Harry from head to toe.
"You didn't say anything about nearly being attacked by a snake at the Ministry," Theo said accusingly, crossing his arms.
Harry sighed. "Because I didn't nearly get attacked."
"Luna said you felt it," Theo pressed. "Heard it."
Harry had no answer for that, so he looked away.
Theo let out a slow breath, shaking his head and gripping Harry's other hand. "You make it impossible to not worry."
They let the tension drop as Harry turned to the real reason for today's meeting, their holiday plans and the prophecies.
"I'm taking you all to the Keep," Harry announced.
Excitement flickered across Neville's face, while Blaise smirked. "It's about time. We all researched our arses off finding the place."
Harry grinned. "You did. And now, I think it's time you all meet Ignotus."
The group shared eager glances, except for Luna, who was watching Harry closely, something knowing in her expression.
Instead of asking her what she was thinking, he turned to Salazar's portrait.
"Would you want your portrait moved to the Keep?" Harry asked. "You could see Ignotus again."
Salazar stiffened in surprise, then quickly composed himself, though there was an unmistakable light in his eyes.
"As much as I enjoy our conversations, I have… missed my uncle," Salazar admitted. "It has been… lonely."
Harry nodded. "Then I'll take you with us."
For the first time since meeting him, Salazar smiled widely.
Harry pulled out the prophecies from his satchel, setting them carefully on the table in front of them.
Luna tensed slightly, her hand tightening around his.
Neville frowned. "Why the hell are there so many?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know." He hesitated and turned to Luna, then said, "But I know Pandora made one about me."
Luna's eyes grew misty, and she looked away, blinking rapidly.
No one spoke for a moment, giving her time to collect herself.
Blaise was the first to break the silence. "Let's start with the one about the Dark Lord."
Harry nodded, reaching for the orb.
His fingers closed around the smooth glass. "How do we… hear it?"
Luna exhaled softly. "You break it, of course."
Harry swallowed, then with a firm grip, he lifted the prophecy and let it fall from his fingers onto the floor.
The glass shattered, and the room was filled with a ghostly, echoing voice—
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord…"