AN: new chapter up, enjoy.

Chapter 47 - Attack

"Welcome! Welcome!" a man said jovially as he opened the doors of the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom and stepped to the side to let the students in.

Harry groaned in exasperation at the sight of the DADA class covered in smiling portraits, at the sight of that lilac-clothed man with wavy golden hair and perfectly white and sparkling teeth.

Once the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor students all took a seat, the man in question took off his pompous cloak and put it on the backrest of his chair before stepping on the podium at the front of the classroom.

"As you can see, here I am, for a second year as well!" the man said and winked at his students, eliciting a chorus of gasps from the teenage girls in the seats. "I told you that I broke that Jinx over the Defense teaching position, didn't I? I am here to stay. I love Hogwarts and I love imparting my vast knowledge and experience with students as lovely as you."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He almost wished he and Bellatrix had not broken the Jinx two years ago, solely for Gilderoy Lockhart to get sacked. That's right: this was the second year that Gilderoy Lockhart was going to teach DADA at Hogwarts.

The personality of this Lockhart was just as garbage as that of the Gilderoy Lockhart from his previous life - him falsely claiming to have broken the Jinx was proof enough of that. However, what annoyed Harry even more than his trashy character was the fact that his skills were, in truth, legitimate and, because of that, he could not find a way to get him fired. The Duelling Club created by Bellatrix Black two years ago had not died down. Professor Flitwick had taken charge to keep it alive and Gilderoy Lockhart joined as his assistant as well. Over the course of the previous year, Harry had had a first-row view of Gilderoy's actual skills and he could attest that the man was a capable wizard.

⁂ Later that day ⁂

"Gosh, I freaking hate that guy!" Terry said and threw his backpack angrily on one of the sofas in the Ravenclaw common room.

"Oh, come on, Lockhart isn't that bad," Padma spoke in her favourite teacher's defence.

But her words were met with a chorus of booing from most of the boys in the common room at that moment.

"Ignore them. Boys are as just as narrow-minded and jealous as ever," Marietta, an older female student said and huffed. "You didn't see any of us, girls, acting like that two years ago when Professor Black had all the guys in the school panting over her."

"Did you ever see Professor Black wink at students? Send them languorous smiles or flirt around?" Michael Corner retorted belligerently. "No, you didn't!" he also answered his own question. "Because she never acted like that. She was professional and didn't fuck around in class like that idiot!"

"Damn, Michael, calm down," Harry finally said, not expecting that rage-filled outburst from the normally calm and cool-looking boy.

"He's mad because he's been trying to woo that Weasley girl over the past few days but she's head over heels with Lockhart and doesn't even look at him," Terry explained in a whisper and started snickering.

⁂

It was past the curfew but, seeing as it was Friday, Harry was not asleep. He was sitting on a comfortable couch in the Ravenclaw common room with two newspapers spread out in front of him - one on his lap and the other one on the table next to the couch. They were the latest editions of the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler.

It was the end of the first week of his fourth school year and things seemed to be as normal and peaceful as ever for most students. The Daily Prophet seemed to showcase the same idea too. But a more keen observer would notice that a turbulent undercurrent was flowing under that peaceful facade.

Who is Minister Amelia Bones' new lover?

Articles with such titles had taken over the British Wizarding media outlets. The strict and no-nonsense former Auror who had never been seen even smiling, let alone walking hand in hand with a man was now acting like a love-struck young woman every time she was seen in the company of her blond and blue-eyed lover.

Harry put down the Daily Prophet and grabbed the Quibbler. On its first page, a different kind of article compared to the gossiping Prophet could be seen:

Three Muggle children found sporting blue skin. Unspeakable forensics determined the cause as magical, the result of children ingesting charmed candy.

The couch seating dipped as someone plopped themselves next to him. He did not need to lift his eyes from the newspaper to see who it was, he could recognize their scent anywhere, out of a thousand. It was his girlfriend, Fleur.

"What are you reading?" she asked as she snuggled closer to him and hooked her arms around one of his.

Turning his attention to her, he found himself smiling involuntarily. Fresh out of the shower, the girl's pale cheeks sported a light redness and her long white-blonde hair was still wet. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek but she quickly turned her head to face him and captured his lips, stealing a quick kiss.

Harry chuckled as he put the newspaper from his lap on the table as well. Then, he grabbed Fleur by the waist and pulled her into his lap. The girl giggled in bliss as she nestled herself in his lap and rested her head on the left side of his chest, nuzzling his neck with her face.

"How come you didn't dry your hair first?" he asked as he gently caressed her scalp with his fingers, her hair magically drying out wherever he touched it.

"Don't pretend you don't like it~" she said and grinned into his neck.

"I do like it. No, I love it. But we've talked about you giving boys and even girls a heart attack..."

At that, she burst into laughter and he chuckled too while tightening his arms around her just a bit more.

"Geez, you two, are you back at it again? Get a room already!" one of the older students that were still in the common room said.

"Maybe stop ogling at us and finish your homework instead? Or better yet, why don't you get a girlfriend?" Harry said back with a laugh, making a few others chuckle too.

In truth, Harry and Fleur kept to themselves mostly and limited their public displays of affection to just hugging and a few quick kisses every now and then. But it was hard not to be jealous of what they had when seeing the way they interacted with each other. At first, none of the gossipers had thought that their relationship would last because he was younger than her and seemingly out of her league and Fleur, well, she was a Veela. Their prejudices made them think she would just stay with Harry until she got bored of him before jumping to another guy.

However, two years later, Harry and Fleur were still together and looking happier and more comfortable with each other than ever. They had become somewhat of a celebrity couple too due to Harry's ever-increasing fame (thanks to being the main evidence that proved the legitimacy of Bellatrix's internationally renowned Magic Ancestry research). The Witch Weekly newspaper had even written a few tabloid articles about them over the past year.

Picking up the Quibbler again, Harry started to read the newspaper together with Fleur this time.

"Another case of Muggle baiting?" she asked when she saw the article about the three children hospitalized in St Mungo until the effects of the charmed candy they had eaten went away.

"Yeah," Harry said, a small frown appearing on his face. "Bella's research revolutionized wizarding society in Europe and beyond. It was the best thing ever for Muggleborns and Half-bloods, they're not treated like third and second class citizens anymore... but there are unintended side-effects too."

Fleur understood what he was talking about. It was not the first time cases of Muggle-baiting were reported in the Quibbler. She could recall more than a dozen such instances over the past summer alone.

"I wonder why is the Prophet not saying anything about that," she said.

"Maybe they don't think reporting cases of crimes against Muggles is relevant. Or maybe Bones is regulating what information can be released to the public and what can't. We both know that the Ministry keeps a tight leash on the Prophet. The world at large still has no idea about the massacre from Azkaban or the serial killer that's been at large two years ago," he said and wagged his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Amelia Bones had proved to be the best Minister of Magic in Harry's memories but that did not make her devoid of flaws. In the end, Minister Bones was a politician as well, not just a former Auror. Keeping things under wraps to make it look like her term in the office was perfect seemed like something any person in a position of power would be tempted to do.

"It's starting to worry me a little. As you said, it looks like Muggleborns are much better off nowadays but the Muggles..." Fleur trailed off.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

Wizards and Witches, especially in the UK, had never had very high opinions of Muggles. Even the likes of Arthur Weasley who loved to tinker with Muggle devices and admired their ingenuity was looking at them no different than how a human scientist admired a monkey's intelligence when it used a rock to break a jar for the nuts inside. That feeling of superiority that Wizards and Witches held towards Muggles had only been exacerbated as of late by the Magic Ancestry research. Knowing that magic could not come from Muggles - that all Muggleborns had, in fact, a wizard, a witch or a squib in their ancestry - made their opinions of Muggles plummet even more than before.

Letting out a sigh, Harry flipped the page and started to read other articles. But he soon lost interest in that too. He had been reading the news mostly to distract himself from thinking about his immediate problems.

Seeing him putting the newspaper away and becoming quiet, Fleur said:

"Thinking about Gaunt again?"

"Can't hide anything from you, can I?" he said with a smile. "It's just so frustrating. I know who he is. Dumbledore surely knows it too. But we can't do anything about it openly because the world at large knows him as Amelia Bones' lover. Who would've thought he'd hook up with the Minister of Magic herself? Damned snake."

Harry had heard from Dumbledore in his previous life that Tom Marvollo Riddle had been a very charming and charismatic man, that that was how he had gotten so many zealotic followers that were willing to kill and even die in his name. But he had never put much stock into it before because the Voldemort that he had seen through his visions had been just an insane murderer, one that kept his followers in line not with charisma and leadership but with death threats and torture. However, this time around, he was witnessing with his own eyes just what kind of charisma and intelligence Voldemort had been said to have.

⁂

The next day, on Saturday, Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen at breakfast in the Great Hall. Although he had stepped down from his position as the Headmaster three years ago he was still one of the most important figures at Hogwarts; everyone was bound to notice his absence. At that moment, the old wizard was in the middle of a conversation with Bellatrix Black, in his Transfiguration Office.

"According to what you have gleaned from the Death Eaters that had tried to assassinate you a few years ago, this Thomas Gaunt looks nothing like Voldemort," Dumbledore said.

"Yes. And Thief's Downfall did not dispel his disguise," Bellatrix confirmed.

"What makes you so sure that he and Voldemort are one and the same?" Dumbledore asked. "Make no mistake, I do not doubt his real identity. I am merely interested in hearing what had prompted you to believe that."

Bellatrix's violet eyes peered into his searchingly, trying to understand what exactly was the intentions behind that question. She would never make the mistake of underestimating the old man's brilliance and cunning.

"It's merely an educated guess on my part," Bellatrix said smoothly. There was no way she could tell him that it was thanks to Fleur's knowledge of the future due to travelling back in time. "He hadn't even tried to be discreet about it by keeping his first name and then adopting the name of his mother, Gaunt. Also, what are the chances that some Thomas Gaunt suddenly popped out of nowhere and just happened to seduce the Minister of Magic?"

Dumbledore intertwined his fingers and brought his hands to his chin, his eyes closed in thought for a few moments.

"This isn't going to hold. Sometimes, love can make people blind and act foolishly. Besides, even if she was not in love with him, this won't be enough to convince Amelia," he said eventually.

"I know... ...I've tried to talk to her but she won't listen. That's why I came to you," Bellatrix said.

"We don't have any solid proof that they are one and the same. First of all, he looks nothing like Voldemort. Secondly, Thomas is a common Muggle name. Thirdly, Gaunt is just a name that he had allegedly adopted once he found out about his ancestry. Our only choice is to force his hand."

"And how exactly are we going to do that when Amelia is attached to his hip these days?"

Dumbledore remained silent for a few very long seconds before saying, hesitation palpable in his voice:

"I'm afraid our only choice is to make use of his interest in Harry Potter."

He had expected Bellatrix to protest vehemently against his idea due to how overprotective of him she had proven to be. But, to his surprise, she did not as much as blink at his suggestion.

⁂

Days flew by. It was the third week of September and Harry's restlessness had become obvious even to his housemates - zoning out, talking less and spending increasingly less time in the common room with everyone else.

Although more than one year had passed since Bellatrix stopped teaching at Hogwarts, Harry had not given up on playing the piano. One reason for that was that his gratitude to her and his desire to please her had never diminished. But, on top of that, after two years of studying the piano, he had stopped seeing it as something that he was doing only to make her happy. He had slowly fallen in love with it. It had not happened overnight and he had not realized his attachment to it for a long time. His love of playing the piano had slowly crept up into his heart, secretly ensnaring him.

As the slow, elegant piano notes rang, the signs of stress visibly trickled away from his forehead. Nocturne no.1 by Gabriel Faure was a rather challenging piece for his level and he sometimes messed up. But he was not disheartened, nor was he annoyed. Patiently, he would start from the beginning and do it again. Single-mindedly focusing on getting the tempo and the notes right was making him stop thinking about anything else. His worries about Voldemort, his anxiety related to Fleur and Bellatrix's safety, his frustration at Gaunt's ploys - none of that mattered at that moment. Many times when he was playing the piano at night, he would lose himself in the music. He did not notice the passing time.

When the last note rang, Harry closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Unknowingly, he had been playing the piano for the better part of the last two hours. Wiping his sweaty fingers on the thighs of his pyjama pants, he took out his fir and dragon heartstring wand and cast several delicate Cleaning Charms on the piano, removing any fingerprints, dust, and sweat from it.

'After I build my own home, I'm going to buy a piano too. A grand piano just like this,' he said wistfully and caressed the lustrous surface of the majestic musical instrument.

He smiled at the mental image of him playing the piano in the cosy living room of their future home.

A 30-year-old Fleur was sitting in a chair next to him, her chin resting in her palms as she drank in the sight of her husband playing Robert Schumann's Carnaval for her, the joyous notes of the song and his happy grin making her return a brilliant smile as well.

The scene in his imagination changed and, this time, he was not playing the piano alone. Sitting on his lap was a very young girl with baby blue eyes, platinum hair and an adorable face - she was like a miniature carbon copy of her mother. He was in the midst of teaching his 6-year-old daughter how to play the piano.

Nevertheless, soon, he stopped daydreaming. None of that would be possible until he eliminated Voldemort for good.

"It's been three weeks..." he muttered.

He had waited three weeks for Bellatrix to find a way to convince Amelia Bones of the truth regarding her lover. However, it had been to no avail. Once he left the Music Classroom and closed the door, Harry's green eyes darkened. The wistful and sensitive man from before was nowhere to be seen anymore. It was as if he had locked that side of him away, it was as if he had left it behind in the Music Classroom.

Casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself and making sure to avoid the Auror on duty and the prefects patrolling the corridors, Harry arrived back at the Ravenclaw Tower unimpeded. But, much to his surprise, someone was standing in front of the door leading to the common room. It was a tall and well-built boy in his late teens. Harry was very familiar with him - it was the Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Roger Davies.

"I am the beginning of the end and the end of time and space that surrounds everything and every place. What am I?" came the melodic voice of the enchanted eagle knocker.

The seventh-year student did not even blink, he gave his answer instantly:

"This is a tricky one. But far from enough to get me stuck! The answer is the letter "E"! Haha!"

"Correct!"

But when the doors opened for him to enter, Roger Davies closed them back instead and remained on the corridor. Harry watched the scene befuddled.

'Oh, boy, that really was a difficult one. I wouldn't have guessed it right away.'

Not only that the boy that Harry had thought of as little more than a meathead had gotten the answer right in an instant but he also refused to enter the common room. Instead, the older boy knocked the eagle knocker again.

The eagle knocker spoke again:

"What has roots that no one sees and looms much taller than trees? Up it goes but yet it never grows; what is it?"

Once again, Roger Davies replied instantly:

"The answer is: mountain. But, hey, you're not exactly correct!" he said in annoyance. "Some mountains do grow! It's not the first time you gave me stupid riddles! Someone needs to update the charms on this stupid knocker!"

Harry watched rather fascinated how Roger Davies answered another five more riddles before finally entering the common room.

'The heck was with that?' he asked himself after answering a riddle of his own and climbing up to his dorm.

What Harry did not know was that ever since Roger Davies had failed to answer the riddle in front of him two years ago, the older boy had resolved himself to never feel that kind of embarrassment again. Thus, he had made a habit out of answering at least 15 riddles a day.

Nonetheless, he did not think about his former Captain for too long. Once he arrived in his room, he went directly to his trunk and took out a flask from it. Then, casting another Disillusionment Charm on himself, he left the Ravenclaw Tower once more.

A few minutes later, having successfully avoided the patrolling prefects and Aurors once more, Harry found himself in front of the Whomping Willow. Easily freezing the violent tree, he was just about to enter the secret passage leading to the Shrieking Shack when, with a barely audible flutter of wings, a rather large bird landed on one of the thick branches of the willow.

When he saw the snow-white plumage of the bird of prey, he muttered under his breath:

"Fuck."

⁂

Harry and Fleur rarely argued. Bickering and teasing each other happened often. But real arguments? - those were very rare. Actually, Harry couldn't recall Fleur ever being as angry with him as she was in the present. Not since they had become a couple.

"I knew something was wrong when you didn't return by midnight," she began. "What are you up to, 'Arry?"

Her voice was shaking from how mad she was but she was still somehow in control of herself enough to not start shouting.

Harry let himself fall on the dusty and mouldy sofa before letting out a loud groan.

"How did you even find me?" he asked, trying to avoid answering her question.

But she was not fooled by that weak attempt.

"I'll take a guess. It's a wild guess but bear with me. There are two possibilities: one-" she said and raised a finger in the air, "you were sneaking out to see someone."

"That's ridiculous!" Harry burst in indignance.

"I know," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I know you love me too much to think about someone else. Besides, no woman would ever come to meet someone in a place like this."

They were currently in the Shrieking Shack. It sufficed to say that this was the dirtiest and most run-down place that Fleur had ever seen in her life. Both of her lives.

"So that leads me to believe it's the second scenario: were you, perhaps, trying to go after Gaunt alone?"

His silence was all the answer she needed.

"What did I study my ass off for? What did I train myself into the ground for?"

Him not saying anything angered her even more.

"All the time, sweat and effort that I put in, what did I do all that for? Answer me, 'Arry!" she yelled. "I did it for you!"

She quickly wiped her glistening eyes with the sleeve of her top.

"I did it so I could stand by your side! I did it so I could 'elp you! So you wouldn't 'ave to fight alone! So why? - why are you doing this? Why are you leaving me behind?"

"All I want is to keep you safe," Harry said eventually. "I don't need anyone's help to take Gaunt down. I don't need you to put yourself in danger for no reason."

Her lower lip trembling, Fleur looked like she was barely holding back her tears. Suddenly, she took something from her pocket and threw in front of her.

Harry only had one second to jump up from the sofa and cast a Shielding Charm before the thing that Fleur had thrown on the floor abruptly exploded in size, becoming as large as a grown-up male. It was a humanoid bronze statue.

His Shielding Charm let out a deep sound and rippled as the bronze statue's punch clashed against it.

"Two minutes. If I can't land even one hit or spell on you in two minutes or if you incapacitate me before that, it's my loss," Fleur said and pointed her ivory white wand at him.

Recognizing her wand's movement in the split of a second he instantly cancelled his Shielding Charm and summoned a broken coffee table in front of him - that spell that she had cast was a Shield-Breaking Spell.

He wanted to stop the fight. In his eyes, it was pure nonsense. He had absolutely no intention of seriously trying to hurt her. But he also knew that, with how impulsive and hot-headed Fleur could be, his pleas to stop would only anger her more.

Several thin cords were launched from his wand but Fleur expertly deflected the spell to the side and retaliated with a Stunning Charm. Harry also deflected her spell with a flick of his wand but then, his instincts screamed at him to dodge. And it was just in the nick of time that he jumped to the side; one second later and a metallic fist would have taken his head off.

The bronze statue did not relent and pursued him with a vengeance.

"Fuck!" Harry cursed as he found himself smashed through the rotten and decayed walls of the living room, straight out of the shack.

A sphere-like shielding charm had protected him from harm but the bronze statue's physical strength was so high that some of that impact had still travelled through the spell.

"Fleur! Stop this nonsense! Seriously now!"

Her answer was to fire a Reductor Curse. But Harry batted it away like it was nothing and glared at her as she stepped out of the Shrieking Shack through the hole in the wall.

But the bronze statue did not let him catch his breath as it once again lunged at him with the momentum of a crazy bull and Harry was once more forced to cast his strongest Shielding Charm.

'It's like I'm fighting against a mini Giant!'

He and Fleur had inscribed so many Ancient Runes formations on the bronze statue that Harry had no more than 3 spells in his arsenal that could stop it: the Fiendfyre Curse, the Dao Curse (1), and the Ballista Curse (2). But those spells would completely destroy the bronze statue - something that he did not want to. He felt pained at the thought of destroying the fruit of their labour over the past year with his own hand.

The more sensible solution would be for Harry to attack her directly. But the problem was that, under his and Bellatrix's tutelage, Fleur's already above average skills with a wand had been polished. She had become a competent duelist. He could not go easy on her and expect to submit her in a short time, without hurting her.

He did not want to hurt Fleur and he did not want to destroy the bronze statue either. His hands were tied.

But even so, only by Disapparating around and casting Shielding Charms, two minutes passed without Fleur or the bronze statue landing a hit on him.

"Two minutes passed. It's over, Fleur," he said and, thankfully, she kept her word and stopped attacking.

But his expression softened when he saw her starting to cry silently, her gaze pinned to the ground. He came to her and - albeit hesitantly - he put his arms around her. He let out a sigh of relief when she did not push him away.

He said as he caressed the back of her head gently: "I underestimated you. You've become strong."

"D-Don't think you can fool me!" she bit back through her sobs. "I know you're saying that only to console me!"

"No, I mean it. The bronze statue that we've created together is powerful, both as a means of attacking and as a shield. Your spellcasting has improved as well and your deflection technique is on point too. Your last two years have not been in vain, Fleur."

He put a finger under her chin and gently made her look him in the eyes, for her to see his sincerity.

"Voldemort isn't any average Joe. He's one of the strongest wizards to ever live. I was afraid you could get hurt - still am. But I recognize your strength."

As much as it pained him to admit it, he had to give it to her. Just the use of her bronze statue alone could be a massive boon in the upcoming fight. Furthermore, he had not forgotten how it was only thanks to Fleur that Mad-Eye had not captured him after he had fallen unconscious in the aftermath of his duel with Dumbledore. Fleur had knocked out the seasoned Auror and rescued him. Harry recognized her strength and her worth - he had always respected her. It was only his overprotectiveness that was urging him to make her stay as far away from the danger as possible.

"I will take you with me. You are right," he said with a sigh. "I could use your help. We'll do this together."

⁂

It was night, well past midnight. But, in spite of how late it was, Amelia Bones could not sleep. Not even the bliss and comfort from making love with her man could lull her to sleep.

'Why are they insisting Tom is You-Know-Who? Both Bella and Dumbledore.'

She could not wrap her head around that idea. She had heard their explanations and Dumbledore had even shared with her the memories he had of Tom Riddle and the Gaunts. But she could not connect Tom Marvollo Riddle with her Tom.

'They look completely different. If he had been under a disguise, Thief's Downfall would have unmasked him.'

Besides, she found it impossible to imagine that someone as caring and as loving as her Tom was the same psychotic murderer that had massacred most of her family (3). There was probably no one in the world that had more reasons than Amelia Bones to hate Voldemort.

'I took a page out of Bella's book and investigated his personal history with the help of the Muggle authorities. He used to be named Thomas Oswald. Born in Germany, Hamburg. He and his family moved to the UK when he was 15. By then, it was too late for him to attend Hogwarts so his parents hired tutors for him to be taught at home. He's always been part of the Muggle world more than the Wizarding World, working as an attorney after graduating from Cambridge. He's been married once but divorced after he found his wife cheating on him. He changed his name to Gaunt a few months ago, after learning of his ancestry [...]'

Prompted by Bellatrix's and Dumbledore's insistent claims that Thomas Gaunt was Voldemort, Amelia Bones had secretly investigated his background in great detail. She had even met Gaunt's parents (without his knowledge). Thomas Oswald - Thomas Gaunt - was just a regular Muggleborn, an ordinary man, a kind and loving man that treated her and treasured her as if she was his queen.

At that thought, she snuggled closer to him and pressed a soft kiss on his strong chest. Hugging his waist with one arm and intertwining one of her legs with his, Amelia closed her eyes. As if in response to her desire for more intimacy, the still sleeping Tom embraced her closer to his chest. Amelia felt her heart melt at his unconscious display of affection.

'How could this man be Voldemort? Impossible!'

Soon after, she fell asleep, her mind filled with thoughts of her lover. However, only a few minutes later, an incredible explosion rocked the Bones estate from its foundations.

As a former Auror, Amelia was up to her feet in an instant. Gaunt was also startled awake and quickly stood up from the bed as well. Her wand in her hand, Amelia rushed to the window to see what was happening.

Outside the courtyard of the Bones family's home, two shadowy silhouettes could be seen in the darkness of the night. But then, a deep red light engulfed one of them and Gaunt and Amelia Bones could finally see the appearance of their attackers: they were a man and a woman in their early twenties. Short brown hair, white skin, average weight and height, and wearing ordinary Muggle autumn clothes - they were the kind of people that could easily be lost in a crowd.

However, the spell that the man cast next made them understand that, at the very least, his magic power was far, very far from ordinary.

His body engulfed by a blood-red light, the young man raised a gnarly-looking wand in front of him. The illusory image of a giant crossbow appeared above his head as he spoke the incantation of his spell:

"Ballista!"

A blinding bolt of red light burst from the gnarly wand in the young man's left hand and a tremendous explosion boomed. The mansion shook once again from its very foundations. This time Amelia Bones felt it deeply: something akin to a current of electricity travelled down her spine as she lost her connection with the ancient Warding Spells protecting the Bones family's ancestral home. In the next moment, deafening sounds of glass breaking rang in the silence of the night as the wards were blasted apart.

AN:

(1) the Dao Curse was used by Harry during his fight against Dumbledore to kill Fawkes - chapter 37.

(2) Harry's self-created curse. He had used this Curse to destroy the Warding Spells protecting Voldemort's Headquarters in Russia, in his past life - chapter 23.

(3) it is canon that Voldemort murdered most of the Bones family personally in the First War (thank you for the correction in the reviews).