AN: I hope you enjoy this chapter.
There were still a couple of small projects I needed to write about, before the start of the second task.
After that we can continue with the tournament.
Chapter 38
January 2nd, 1995
Harry was positive that the last week had been one of the best in his life. Finally, he and Fleur were officially dating. Now, they could hardly keep their hands off each other. They usually managed to behave themselves in public, only showing small displays of affection, like a quick kiss, hugs, and holding hands.
However, as soon as they felt alone, both couldn't contain their excitement and desire to become more intimate. Still, they have not gone any further than the things they did the night of the Yule Ball.
As usual, both were still quite busy but made sure to spend some time together, each day. Be it a common workout in the ROR, a walk around the lake, or simply some studying for OWLs together. Today, Harry would make a trip to Diagon Alley and pick up his Pensieve. Over the last month, Borgin had sent him regular updates on the status of the negotiations and logistics.
Harry had kept his end of the bargain and delivered the necessary ingredients and materials, including the vial of venom, the heart, and the hide of the dragon. Now it was just a matter of getting the Pensieve to Hogwarts and down into the Chamber. It was quite a heavy device and it would probably take Dobby and Kreacher to apparate it together.
"Mr. Borgin," Harry greeted his former employer. "A pleasure to see you."
"I have expected you, Mr. Potter. Your delivery is here, of course. How do you intend to get it back to Hogwarts? I would advise against trying to apparate with the Pensieve by yourself."
"I came to the same conclusion, which is why I wanted to ask you for permission first. Two of my elves could pick up the Pensieve here in your store and deliver it to me at Hogwarts."
Borgin nodded: "Two elves shall be more than enough to transport such a unique magical device. Beware that the Hogwarts wards might notify your esteemed headmaster, though, Mr. Potter. The rune-work in a Pensieve is among the most complex in the world. I suggest having a valid excuse and a well-protected place to hide it in."
"Your advice is, as always, appreciated, Mr. Borgin. My elves shall pick up the device early this afternoon. If you will excuse me, I have a further business to attend to."
Harry took his leave and made his way over to Gringotts. It was time to properly visit his family vault. Upon verifying his identity, one of the goblins took him on a wild cart ride to his vault. As one of the oldest families in magical Britain, the Potter vault was located very deep underneath the bank and was protected by ancient spells.
The goblin opened the vault door for him and granted him entrance. Harry took a look around. The vault was larger than his trust vault but smaller than Harry would have guessed. Perhaps it magically adjusted to the space it needed. A reasonable amount of galleons had been added from his former trust vault a few months ago. Therefore, the golden mount in the center of the vault looked admittedly somewhat impressive.
Harry, however, was far more interested in what else he might find here. Over in the corner, were boxes and a shelf with books. Deciding to see what the boxes might hold first, Harry approached the nearest and opened the lid.
Its contents were pages upon pages of parchments in neat handwriting. Harry frowned when he noticed the name under something that looked like an essay for charms.
Lily Evans
Harry gulped, took out the entire stack of parchment, and went through them one by one. His mom's owl results had been very impressive. She had taken the same subjects as him. However, somehow she had also gotten her NEWTs in Muggle Studies. Well, it must have been easy for an actual muggle-born to achieve that…
Among the parchments were also letters from friends, very few photos, and some other documents. He was about to head over to the next box when something caught his eye.
Dear Lils,
The Slytherin Common Room is located under the Black Lake… can you believe it? How are things over in Gryffindor? Do you have your own dormitory or do you share it with others? Even though we have been sorted into different houses, I hope that we will still remain friends.
I know there is a lot of rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but as long as we don't both start playing for the house teams we should be fine, right? I can't wait for classes to start. I am especially excited for Potions and Defense against the Dark Arts. Let me know what you are looking forward to the most.
Talk to you tomorrow,
Your friend Sev
Harry gulped. He recognized this handwriting. He had seen it countless times in the snarky comments that had been on any of his potions essays and the instructions on the board in class. His mother, a muggle-born, had been friends with Severus Snape even before the start of school?
How was that possible? Was this another reason why Snape hated James Potter and therefore Harry? Because Lily ended up marrying him and somehow their friendship became the second rate? Harry would have to ask Sirius about it later...
The box right next to his mother's contained the same content except it had been his father's. Harry laughed when reading a couple of letters addressed to his grandparents from McGonagall, describing in detail what kind of pranks and mischief have landed the boy in detention. His grandmother Dorea Potter née Black and McGonagall seem to have been good friends.
He moved over to the Bookshelves. There were a couple of old Hogwarts books but one very old tome caught Harry's attention.
'Europe's purest' by Bathilda Bagshot
A small note fell out as he opened the leather-bound tome.
For James' 20th birthday, old Bathilda gifted him her research on the oldest pureblood families in Europe and their living descendants. She has been working on this for almost a century. Apparently, the Potters are mentioned somewhere as well… Well… thanks to dear old me, that blood is not as 'pure' anymore...
Harry chuckled, apparently his mom had been just as sarcastic as him. He carefully closed the tome and decided to take it with him, along with a few of the photos he found. A small part of him was disappointed. He was hoping to find an old family portrait down here, but Sirius had already warned him not to get his hopes up.
Potter Manor had lots of old family portraits, but the entire manor was destroyed when Voldemort ripped right through the wards during his attack on his grandparents in 1980. The man had taken too much from him...
Harry exited the bank and called for Dobby and the elf apparated them back to the first floor at Hogwarts. From there, Harry went down into the Chamber. He really wanted to read a bit in the old tome.
"I think I found a treat in my family vault." Harry greeted the portrait.
"I'll leave you to it, then," Salazar replied. He knew that there was nothing else for Harry when the boy got his hands on a new book.
Harry quickly found the section about the Potters. Their origins were nothing new to him. He was also distantly related to many other British magical families, via his grandmother. Previous generations of Potters had preferred to marry pureblood women from the continent to diminish the risk of mixing blood with relatives too much. A smart decision, Harry thought, thinking about Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.
His great-grandfather William Potter for example had married a Swedish pureblood girl from a very esteemed family. His grandfather Charlus broke that tradition and for the first time in five centuries, a Potter and a Black had been wed. Bathilda also mentioned his connection to the Peverells, however, there was no note of the Hallows. Deciding to follow the reference to the pages on the Peverell family, Harry flipped a couple of pages back and began reading.
The first time the name Peverell was mentioned in history, was during the Roman invasion of Britain under Hadrian in AD 120. Apparently, they were some very old Celtic Lords that resisted the foreign invaders.
The Peverells had always been very secretive but gifted in magic. Even Bathilda had been unable to trace back the entire line up to the point where three Peverell brothers lived at the same time... Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. Here, the link between the great-granddaughter of Ignotus and the Potters was described in detail.
Antioch, who must have been the first Brother and owner of the Elder Wand, died first. He was probably killed only a few days after the legendary wand had been in his possession, Harry thought. However, the second brother had married at some point and had children. Was it with the same girl that he tried to bring back to life later?
Bathilda had spent several years tracing back the lineage to the second brother and found two family names. Harry hastily flipped the pages to the first name.
However, to his great disappointment, the family Ambly des Ayvelles had died out in France over 400 years ago and no living descendants were known. He checked the name of the second family. Gaunt… He shrugged... He had never heard of them, but it could not hurt to look them up, could it? He started reading.
"The House of Gaunt was a pure-blood family, and one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They had a tendency of marrying their cousins to keep their blood pure and to retain the traits of their ancestor, most notably the ability to speak Parseltongue."
Harry frowned. How come he had never heard of Britain's most notorious parseltongue family?
"Salazar?"
"Yes, Harry."
"Does the name Gaunt ring any bells?"
"Let me think… There was an Octavian Gaunt during my time at Hogwarts. A very old British pureblood family. Proud and admittedly magically powerful. Why are you asking?"
"It says here that the Gaunt family descended from the second oldest Peverell Brother. It also says that they were notorious for being Britain's only Parselmouth family."
"Well, Octavian Gaunt can't have been a Parselmouth during my time, so one of my granddaughters must have married into his family. Are there any living descendants left of them?"
Harry turned to the last page. "No… apparently, the family died out after Morfin and Merope Gaunt died childlessly. Their father, Marvolo,…" Harry trailed off and stared at Salazar wide-eyed. A couple of seconds passed.
"Harry, I swear, Tom never told me…He never spoke about his family, no matter how often I asked." Salazar explained.
Harry frowned: "Well this can't just be a coincidence… Tom Riddle claims to be a descendant of Slytherin, speaks the tongue of the serpent and his middle name is identical to a known member of a Parseltongue family…
Back in my second year, he told me that his father was a muggle. 'Tom Riddle' must have been his father's name. That means Merope Gaunt was his mother… Ironic that Voldemort and I are somehow related via the Slytherin and Peverell line...
What if the second Hallow has been passed down in Voldemort's family. I need to find out where the Gaunt family has lived…" Harry mumbled.
"Actually, this is a perfect opportunity to rewatch a memory, don't you think? Dobby, Kreacher!"
"Harry Potter, sir?"
"Dragon Slayer Master?"
Harry chuckled at Kreacher's greeting: "I would like you both to go to Borgin and Burke's and let Mr. Borgin shows you the Pensieve. Then I want you both to hold on tight to it and apparate with it down here in the Chamber. Do you understand?"
The two elves nodded and vanished with a POP. It should not take too long now…
"What memory are you going to show me?" Salazar asked curiously
"My conversation with Tom Riddle and fight against your Basilisk," Harry replied with a smirk, just as the two elves reappeared in the middle of the chamber with a large stone basin covered in complicated runes in between them. Salazar let out a groan.
January 9th, 1995
"Are you sure the memory is strong enough?" Salazar asked.
"It was the happiest I have ever felt. I felt invincible and finally at peace. I could have taken on the entire world at that moment…" Harry had a foolish grin on his face and his eyes became ever so glassy.
"Very well, give it a try then. It might just give you some extra points for your OWLs." Salazar rolled his eyes at the boy's face.
"Are you sure it's going to be a Thestral, as well?" Harry asked curiously.
"It definitely should be... it's your spirit animal and you already have a deep connection to it." Salazar explained
Harry flicked his wand into his palm and concentrated on the night of the Yule ball with Fleur. The memory came back in an instant… Him and Fleur dancing in the Great Hall, their eyes deeply lost in each other's… Pulling her in a tight hug in ROR and the feeling of her warm body pressed against his… Her hands entangled in his hair... Her hot, soft lips on his...
He closed his eyes and whispered:
"Expecto Patronum."
A rush of energy surge through him. Unlike with his Inimicus, this one felt exceptionally warm and pleasant, like an imprint of the sweet memories he had made with Fleur. A bright white light erupted from the tip of his wand and formed into the familiar ethereal Thestral. However, this one shone a bright silvery-white, instead of the blackish flame he was used to. Harry also noticed that the winged horse's eyes were a sparkling deep blue, just like Fleur's…
"Well done, Harry." Salazar nodded proudly.
Harry stretched out his hand and his Patronus nudged its pout gently against his fingers:
"Well, to be honest, I will stick to my Inimicus when fighting Dementors. Why would I fight off Dementors with something that can only repel them, if I have a tool to kill them? But a Patronus is pretty useful to exchange messages. Should I send one to Dumbledore and tell him that I finally found the path to the light?" Harry joked.
Salazar shook its head: "No, keep the ability hidden for now. But you should be on your way. Don't you have a couple of OWLs to sit, right now?"
"Shit," Harry groaned, as he took a look at his new wristwatch: "Dobby!"
The elf appeared next to him.
"Take me to the Transfiguration Classroom."
A few seconds later, Harry opened the door to the classroom and was greeted by McGonagall, Flitwick, and Moody.
"I am glad you are putting your godfather's gift to good use, Mr. Potter. You are barely on time." McGonagall greeted him with a stern look. "Today you will take your theoretical OWL exams in Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense against the Dark Arts. Are you ready?"
"Certainly, Professor. I even brought my own quill." Harry flushed her smile.
"Try not to take too long, Mr. Potter. My colleagues and I have papers to grade and there are a lot of things I'd rather do, than watch you take an exam on my free Sunday, after I am done grading." McGonagall replied and pressed her lips thinly together. "We will grade your exam later tonight so that tomorrow afternoon Professor Marchbanks can examine the practical portion. Do you have any questions?"
Harry shook his head. "Well, on you go then, Mr. Potter." She gestured for him to take a seat.
Harry decided to start with the charms exam and read the first question:
a) Give the incantation, and b) describe the wand movement required to make objects fly.
Harry had a fleeting memory of a sharp sword soaring high into the air and penetrating the thick skin of a troll… Smiling slightly, he bent over the paper and began to write…
Almost three hours later he was finished with all three exams. It was just as expected. None of the questions were troubling and Harry enjoyed giving detailed answers to a couple of them. He should easily be getting Outstandings in all of them.
The next day in the late afternoon, Harry again made his way to the Transfiguration Classroom. After knocking and being granted entrance, Harry approached McGonagall who seemed in light conversation with an ancient-looking woman. That must be Professor Marchbanks.
The examiner turned towards him:
"Well, Mr. Potter. I must admit I was surprised when Minerva asked to examine one of her students early, for his OWLs. At first, I thought there might be a very bright fifth-year student, who feels confident enough to take his OWLs a couple of months earlier… but instead, I read your name on the parchment…"
"I do hope it made the surprise only sweeter, Professor Marchbanks," Harry replied and flashed the woman a smile. He could hear McGonagall groan in the background.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Potter. I do not care about any of your exaggerated adventures in the Daily Prophet. If you are indeed as skilled as Minerva here claims, I will see so for myself today. "
Harry gulped and nodded quickly.
"You will follow my instructions closely, understood? Good, do you have a preferred subject to start with?"
"We could start with Charms and finish with Defense against the Dark Arts. How does that sound, Professor," Harry suggest politely.
"Very well, let's get started then." The ancient professor nodded:
"I would like for you to summon the book I placed on the table over in the other corner. Keep it levitated and give me a couple of controlled spins after."
In an instant, Harry flicked his wand into his hand and with a fluent swish, shot a silent Accio at the book. Twisting his wand ever so slightly, the book started doing a couple of flips and rotated around its axis in different directions and at different speeds. Professor Marchbanks simply raised an eyebrow at the silent summoning:
"Very well. Next, I would like you to use a color-changing charm of your choice, to creatively decorate this piece of parchment. Points are awarded for the variety of colors and details."
Harry took the offered piece of parchment and let it float in front of him in the air. Then, he closed his eyes. With fluent steady movements, he moved his wand like a brush over the paper in long strides. Half a minute later, a beautiful graphic of the Hogwarts school crest was displayed on the parchments, in a variety of colors and tiny details.
This time, Professor Marchbanks could not hide her amazement at the piece of magic:
"Well done, Mr. Potter. Last but not least, I would like you to perform the Aquamanti and Incendio Charm."
Harry nodded and took a couple of steps forwards, then he silently cast the Aguamenti charm. Instead of a straight stream of water, he quickly manipulated the trajectory of the stream to let it collect in an invincible bowl up in the air. Then he willed the water to take the form of a snake that slithered through the air until it disappeared a couple of seconds later.
He continued with the Incendio. The bright orange flame was almost blue where it left the tip of Harry's wand. It briefly formed the head and wings of a phoenix before disappearing in thin air, leaving Professor Marchbanks with her mouth gaping open.
"That was extraordinary, Mr. Potter. A display like this would almost grant you your NEWTs in Charms." She composed herself a little: "Let's continue with transfiguration. We can speed things up if you simply perform the most advanced piece of transfiguration you believe yourself capable of."
Harry thought for a couple of seconds, before flicking his wand back into his palm. Professor Marchbanks had provided a couple of materials including wood, stone, sand, and glass for him. He waved his wand in an intrinsic pattern over the materials beneath him. Stone started fusing with wood and glass, sand was added to the mixture as well.
Slowly but steadily a miniature version of the Beauxbaton Carriage formed itself out of the mixture of materials. It was perhaps a foot in diameter. Harry closed his eyes, thinking about as many details as possible, like adding the crest on the main door and the large Abraxan horses in front of the carriage. Finally, with a flick of his wand, he animated the stone horses to life and watched as they rose up into the air to fly with the carriage attached to them around the classroom.
"Absolutely brilliant!" Professor Marchbanks gasped. "This is probably on par with the level of control Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle showcased when they took their OWLs. Those two were the brightest students I have ever examined."
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the mention of Voldemort's real name, but he quickly hid the slip in his demeanor.
"Very well, Mr. Potter. Last but not least... Defense against the Dark arts… I would like you to perform a shield charm for me and send three curses of your choice at this dummy to captivate it."
Harry waved his arm in a wide circular motion in front of him. A bright silver shield appeared out of thin air, its surface area shimmering ever so slightly. Professor Marchbanks gave him a nod, so Harry continued.
He silently fired a stunner, a full-body bind, and the Incarcerous at the dummy, which got pushed back all the way to the other wall by the knockback of each spell.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter. That will be all unless there is something additional you would like to demonstrate?"
Harry closed his eyes and briefly imagined Fleur's soft lips and the faint moans that had escaped her mouth:
"Expecto Patronum!" He whispered and conjured the bright Thestral Patronus.
The winged horse galloped around the classroom once before coming to a halt in front of Harry: "Go to Fleur and tell her I got my first OWLs before her." Harry ordered and flicked his wand to send the magical animal on its way to the carriage.
At this, not even McGonagall could hide her snort and the grin on her lips. Professor Marchbanks gave him a rare smile and scribbled down some comments on her notes.
January 27th, 1995
Today was Harry's Birthday… Magically, at least. Due to the accumulated effect of using the time turner for over two years now, his 15th birthday would technically be today on January 27th.
For the last ritual, he would be judged by magic itself, to see if he was worthy. This would combine the effects of all the previous rituals and maximize their individual potential. To judge his worthiness, Harry would have to drink a very special potion, which would create an illusion in his mind, containing his worst nightmares and fears. Only if he overcame that last struggle, would the ritual take effect.
The potion was only known to a very rare number of masters in their subjects. During the middle ages, it has been used as a physiological torture device. The brewing process had taken over a month and required some very rare ingredients and maximum precision while adding and stirring in the cauldron.
It had been finished a couple of days ago and Harry shuddered as he watched the dark green liquid in the cup he had poured himself. Once again, he was standing naked in the seven cornered star. He had just activated each corner with a drop of his blood, after carving the most complicated runic patterns of his life.
This would be unpleasant... Physical pain was one thing he could partly protect himself from, thanks to his formidable Occlumency shields. However, there was nothing that would stop the brutal attack on his mind that was about to take place.
Harry took a deep breath and downed the entire cup in one go. The liquid burned on its way down his throat and Harry coughed several times. At first, he did not notice anything besides a small headache, then everything around him went dark and he felt himself dropping to the floor…
Harry opened his eyes frantically. It was dark… too dark for the chamber. Harry quickly got up and tried to pull his wand, but nothing flicked in his hand…
He frowned… This is still a dream… none of this is real… nothing you are about to see is real... He kept reminding himself and took a look around him. He was back in a small empty classroom. Empty, except for a large beautifully decorated mirror, that stood at the opposite side of the room.
Harry knew that the mirror would show him nothing pleasant, but it was as if his legs did not obey him anymore. He was drawn to the mirror... like it was calling out to him…
As he stood in front of it, his adult reflection waved back at him. Now the women at his side looked almost exactly like Fleur… perhaps only a couple of years older and an inch taller. She smiled lovingly at him. Harry forced himself to smile back just as the picture and background changed.
"I told you I would make you watch" Krum laughed as he bend over to a semi-conscious Fleur, who was lying on the ground, and started unbuttoning her blouse… Warrington joined him and started ripping at Fleur's skirt.
"NO!" Harry started hammering against the mirror! "STOP IT!" He broke down to his knees and started covering his ears… "this is not real… this not real… all of this IS NOT REAL!"
But if it was not real, why did Fleur's screams sound so real?… Why did Krum's and Warrington's laugh sound so real?
He covered his ears and started sobbing in front of the mirror, unable to look at whatever happened. After what felt like an eternity, the room around him finally changed…
He stood back in the Shrieking Shack and took a look outside the window. On the plain field in front of the abandoned house, stood his godfather, Sirius, surrounded by dozens of Dementors. He watched in horror, as one of them tightened its grip around Sirius's neck and effortlessly lifted him up in the air with one hand.
With the other hand, the Dementor started pulling back its hood and slowly moved its face towards a struggling and fighting Sirius.
"NO!" Harry screamed. "SIRIUS, NO!"
But no matter what he tried, nothing worked. He could not move and there was no wand to produce any magic.
"None of this is real," Harry stuttered again and again, as he watched in horror as his Godfather's soul was sucked out of his mouth and the grey eyes of Sirius Black, that usually sparkled in mischief, become doll and hollow, as he dropped to the floor.
The scene changed one more time... Now, he stood in front of his parents' tomb, in the graveyard in Godric's Hollow.
The ethereal forms of James and Lily Potter appeared behind their graves. They did not look like ghosts... They were less transparent... However, they did not look human either. They looked like the Riddle that came out of the diary… a corporeal memory.
"You failed us…," Spoke James Potter.
"No!" Harry shook his head. "I am doing my best. I am trying so hard to avenge you!"
"Then why did you join us so early?" Asked his mother, utter disdain and disappointment in her eyes.
Harry was confused… What was she talking about? A third grave appeared next to the one of his parents. Harry knew what it would say without taking a look at it.
Harry James Potter
Born: July 31st, 1981
Died: Too soon
"Soon… Soon… Soon…!" the word kept echoing in his head. He had failed….
He had failed them all… He had failed Fleur… he couldn't protect her… He failed Sirius… and he failed his parents.
"You will always fail,'' whispered the unmistaken cold high voice of Voldemort into his ear…
"You cannot possibly win against me." The voice now whispered again, this time from the other side.
"NO!" I am alive! This is not real! None of you are real."
Harry dropped to the cold grounds of the graveyard as the whispers all around him increased. Fleur's, Sirius', his parents', and Voldemort's voices were all surrounding him… all whispering about his failures.
Harry covered his ears and took a fetal position on the ground.
"This is an illusion, and none of this is real…
"This is an illusion, and none of this is real…
"This is an illusion, and none of this is real…
"I am Harry Potter… and I will achieve all that I dream of…"
"This is an illusion, and none of this is real…
"This is an illusion, and none of this is real…
"This is an illusion, and none of this is real…
He kept repeating those two sentences until again everything went dark around him…
With a gasp, Harry woke up, feeling the cold stone tiles of the chamber beneath him. All around him the runes were glowing brightly. A low buzzing noise crept through the Chamber and magic started flaring from each corner of the star he carved.
The cold and fear were replaced in an instant, as a wave of warmth and hope rushed through his entire body. Harry panted heavily… The last trial had been endured and overcome. Magic has seen his struggle and his darkest thoughts, but he was deemed worthy. Harry was still shaking from the aftermath of the vision.
"Fleur." He sobbed, frantically rushing over to the Marauder's Map. He saw the dots of Fleur Delacour, as they exited the Beauxbaton carriage and walked over to the castle, probably for lunch.
"Go to her, but put on some clothes first," Salazar advised passionately. He had completed the set of rituals himself when he was a middle-aged man already. He knew what horrors Harry must have seen.
Harry sprinted over to where he had discarded his robes and dressed himself as quickly as he could. With a flick of his wand, his shoelaces tied themselves before he sprinted out of the chamber and up the long staircase to the castle.
In his panic to see Fleur safe and unharmed, he completely forgot that he could simply call Dobby to take him. He ran down the giant staircase. Fleur would probably be almost at the entrance to the castle by now. Finally, Harry arrived at the large oak door and saw Fleur walking up the last couple of steps to the courtyard.
Even seeing her there, looking as radiantly beautiful as ever, Harry couldn't stop himself. He walked straight towards her and broke into another sprint at the last couple of meters.
"Harry, are you okay?" Fleur asked, perplexed as he rushed towards her. Harry threw his arms around her waist and almost tackled her to the ground. He let out a deep sigh and a couple of short sobs, as he buried his nose in her incredibly soft hair and inhaled her sweet scent.
Harry felt Fleur's arms close behind his neck, returning the hug and pressing her body against his:
"Harry, what's going on? You are scaring me."
He did not say anything and simply engulfed her even tighter.
"Harry, whatever happened, it's okay… please just talk to me, yes?" Fleur whispered in his ear and started trailing soft kisses down his neck.
"I am so thankful to have you… I will never take you for granted… and I never want to let you go."
That was all Harry could gulp... Fleur simply let him hold her and kept whispering sweet and calming things in his ear. She gently started increasing the pull of her Allure and pushed as much magic into her sobbing boyfriend as possible, until Harry slowly loosened his hold of her.