A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.
Dear Sirius
I hope this letter finds you well, and most importantly, safe. A lot of things have happened since last we spoke, and I have been hesitant to write about them here, in my letters, due to the risk of discovery. Should these writings ever find their way into the hands of the Dark Lord, for instance, it would certainly spell doom for both me and my companions. And we don't like doom very much.
However, Hermione recently developed a new runeset with which to enchant these letters, providing an extra set of security to our correspondence. Security which, judging by the fact that you are currently reading these words, you managed to circumvent. Good job! I'd offer you a dog treat, but something tells me you wouldn't appreciate that.
Either way, I'll get right down to business: just a couple of days ago, my name came out of the Goblet of Fire, meaning I will be forced to participate in the upcoming Triwizard Tournament. No doubt you will have already heard about this by the time this letter reaches you. And no, before you ask: I did not enter my name into the Goblet of Fire, nor did any of my friends do it for me. How my name came to be selected remains a mystery for now, but there is not a trace of doubt in my mind that Voldemort is involved. He was strangely silent last year, so I suppose it only makes sense that he would try to make up for that now.
Needless to say, the Tournament poses a huge challenge to both me and my friends. It is designed for wizards over the age of 17, after all, so already I am at a significant disadvantage compared to my opponents. Rest assured, however, that I have taken the necessary steps to… remedy this situation. I have a particular ace up my sleeve now that I believe will prove to be instrumental in the challenges to come, both regarding the Tournament and the Dark Lord. I shall not speak more of it here, in this letter. I'll tell you about it in person, once things have calmed down a bit.
Hermione is helping me prepare for the Tournament as well, by walking me through Sixth- and Seventh-Year curriculum. She is a brilliant witch that I am proud to call my friend. I think you'd like her quite a lot. I hope you get the chance to meet her someday.
As for your mission: I'm happy to hear that it is proceeding smoothly. The monitoring of Voldemort's closest lackeys is an important step in our operation against the Dark Lord, and so any news you can bring me regarding their whereabouts and actions are greatly appreciated. Once again, though, I must advice caution. You are still a wanted man, after all, and it would not do for you to be captured and sent back to Azkaban so shortly after escaping. Your safety remains our number one priority, for without you, I have no one to rely on outside of Hogwarts. Keep to the shadows and remain in your Animagus form whenever you venture outside.
And, lastly, no. I will not stop writing these letters in the prose of Dumbledore. I find it strangely enjoyable, in fact. I think I'm starting to see why he likes speaking like this now. Gives off a certain regal vibe, if you catch my drift.
Either way, we'll talk again soon. Send your reply back with Hedwig, and burn this letter once you're done reading it. You know the drill.
Yours truly,
Harry Potter
Room of Requirement
A flash of red light erupted from a wand of Ash, summoning a bolt of sparkling energy that shot towards the exact spot Hermione had been standing in just moments earlier. A sharp crack followed her Apparition, a skillful maneuver executed to dodge the attack.
Black smoke emerged from nowhere to choke the blonde-haired girl who had sent the spell, but a swish of her wand turned it to dust that quickly settled down around her.
Luna twisted her wand and poked it in the direction the smoke had come from, and a cry of pain rang out as her wordless spell connected with Hermione's upper torso. She was lifted off her legs and thrown halfway across the room, her brown hair fluttering wildly behind her.
For a second, it looked like victory was all but assured for Luna. But then…
The traces of dust left behind from the smoke attack earlier suddenly merged into a whip that began cracking at the blonde witch, its shadowy tendrils nailing her straight in the stomach once before she managed to transfigure it into rope.
"Creative," she commented through gritted teeth as she flicked her wand in Hermione's direction. "But you're not fast enough."
The rope flew off in an attempt to lasso Hermione, but a twist of her wand caused it to catch fire and recoil backwards instead. Luna quickly put it out with an Aguamenti, but that gave Hermione plenty of room to fire off an uninterrupted Stupefy.
"Protego!" Luna's voice rang out as a bright, shimmering shield came into existence in front of her, absorbing Hermione's Stupefy like it was nothing.
Harry's jaw promptly dropped open.
"What?! You can cast a Protego charm already, Luna?" he asked, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't supposed to interrupt their duel.
"I learned how to do it last summer from my father," she responded matter-of-factly, dodging a high-school corridor type jinx from Hermione before responding with one of her own. "He's a very talented duelist."
"Seriously? Huh… I didn't know that. You're full of surprises, Luna."
"Thank you."
The leftover water from Luna's Aguamenti suddenly coalesced into the shape of a large phoenix, and she had to dodge out of the way of its reckless charge.
"That's some good Transfiguration work," she commented with a smile as she spun around on her heels and fired off a rapid Expelliarmus. The spell hit Hermione's wand-arm with pinpoint precision, causing her wand to go flying across the room, straight into Luna's already outstretched hand. "But, again… you're not fast enough."
"Ugh…" Hermione groaned. "You're too good at this, Luna."
"I've received rather extensive training through my father," she shrugged, walking over to hand Hermione's wand back to her. "Of course I'd have an advantage."
"But why, though?" Harry asked. "If I remember correctly, your father isn't an Auror, is he? So why would a man like him know so much about dueling?"
"He's self-taught," Luna explained. "After the death of my mother, my father started changing a bit. He grew more somber, more… paranoid, in a way. He started seeing threats and danger where there was none. And he also developed a fierce protectiveness of me, his only child."
"Oh…" Harry swallowed, realizing he may have just stepped into uncomfortable territory.
"He wanted to protect me from the dangers of the Wizarding World, and for me to be able to protect myself as well."
"I-I can understand that," Neville stammered with a firm expression. "My gran feels the s-s-same way about me. She's constantly going on a-and on about how I n-need to grow a pair and take charge of the l-life my parents left me."
"I somehow doubt your gran is teaching you advanced dueling, though," Harry retorted drily.
"… N-No. She isn't. I'm pretty sure s-she would break in half or s-s-something if she tried. Her body is really frail."
"Either way, my father spent a long time studying the ancient art of dueling," Luna continued. "And then, he taught me everything he had learned, in an effort to make me into a suitable sparring partner for him."
"Sparring partner?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, sparring partner. The best way to improve at dueling is to actually duel, after all," Luna nodded. "And that's hard to do on your own."
"I can't help but wonder if the first Wizarding War against Voldemort wouldn't have turned out a bit differently if only more people had done that with their children," Harry pondered, a wistful expression on his face. "As it currently stands, most witches and wizards cower in fear at the mention of his name alone. It's truly pathetic."
"Well, you're not wrong," Hermione sighed. "You'd think that most wizards, having access to one of the most powerful tools in the universe, would feel more of a need to not only learn how to use it, but also how to protect themselves from it."
"People don't like to fight," Luna frowned, the dreamy expression she usually wore letting up a bit as her mind considered the conundrum presented. "They don't like to think about bad stuff like Voldemort and Dark Magic. They just want to live their life in peace, without having to fear evil men armed with painful spells. So why learn to fight when running away is so much easier?"
"They can't run forever," Harry scoffed. "Some day in the future, they will be forced to pick a side, even if they don't want to. And when that day comes… I just hope they choose correctly."
"W-What side will you pick then, Harry?" Neville asked, sending him a curious stare. "The side of Light, or the s-side of Dark?"
"It's not that easy, Neville," Harry sighed, shaking his head. "The world isn't black and white. In my opinion… there is no such thing as Light or Dark magic. Only power, and the intent that guides it."
That brought the Gryffindor boy some pause, as he struck a thoughtful expression and considered Harry's answer.
"You might be right," he finally nodded, his usual stutter suddenly vacant from his voice. "My gran is constantly telling me that I'm a weak scaredy-cat, but I know that I'd kill Bellatrix Lestrange in a heartbeat given the chance. And I don't think that makes me a bad person, either."
Both Harry and Hermione had to do a double take to make sure their ears were not deceiving them. Neville Longbottom… the most nervous boy in all of Hogwarts… had just said he'd gladly kill Bellatrix Lestrange?
Only Luna seemed capable of retaining her composure, merely sending the now thoroughly flustered Neville a warm smile. Harry could've sworn he saw his face turn an even darker shade of crimson at that.
"Well then… I'm, uh… happy to hear that you agree with me, at least," Harry coughed, attempting to break up the awkward silence that had descended upon their little group.
"Would you like to go next, Harry?" Luna suddenly asked, bringing up her wand into a defensive position.
"What?"
"Go next. As in, be the next one to duel me."
"Oh. Uhh… Sure? I can… I can do that," Harry nodded in response, trying his best to suppress the frown that threatened to spill out across his face. He had not had a chance to properly test out his offensive magic since the night of the ritual, and so he was a little hesitant to use it now. What if he were to accidentally let slip a little bit too much of his magical energy and end up stunning Luna into next week?
"Where's your wand?" the blonde-haired witch pointed out as he came to a stop a couple of meters away from her.
"Wand? Ah, that's right… I didn't tell you about that, did I?" Harry answered. "I'm not going to be using a wand for this duel. I'm trying to get better at wandless magic, you see."
"Wandless magic?" Luna blinked. "Isn't that exceedingly difficult?"
"Y-Yeah," Harry nodded. "But I've made some good progress! Just… trust me on this one, okay?"
"Alright," Luna smiled, ceasing her questioning. "I'll take your word for it."
"Thank you, Luna," Harry smiled back, relieved that Luna was such a trusting person.
I should probably craft a fake replica of my old wand, actually, just for appearances' sake. Can't be running around casting wandless magic in front of everyone, after all.
Shoving the thought to the back of his head, he reminded himself of what he was supposed to be focusing on, and promptly shifted into his duelist mindset.
Luna is very good at Transfiguration, he thought to himself as he locked eyes with his opponent from across the room. Any kind of attack that can be Transfigured and used against me should be avoided. I should stick to nonlethal stunners and silly corridor jinxes.
A moment of silence came and went as the two combatants stared each other down. Then, Luna suddenly shot into action, firing off a volley of Stupefy's as she moved to the left. Harry side-stepped all of them with relative ease, answering with a couple of his own. Or, at least, that's what he had intended to do. The end result, however, turned out much different.
All three of his spells came out weak and waning, trailing a couple of feet through the air before flickering out of existence.
Not enough power, he grimaced as he dodged an incoming Impedimenta Jinx. Need to channel more energy.
To his right, he could see Hermione narrowing her eyes at his miserable attempt at magic.
I need to take this more seriously…
Strengthening his resolve, Harry allowed the magical energy to flow freely through his veins, a sharp gasp escaping his lips at the sensation it evoked in him. The sudden felt like a rush of cold water submerging him from the inside out, It was strangely comfortable… and extremely empowering.
Eyes shining with an unnatural glow, he let slip a new Stupefy in Luna's general direction. This one came out like a bolt of red lightning, crackling with power. The blonde-haired witch barely managed to dodge out of its way, and Harry could see that it singed a couple of strands of her hair as it flew past her.
Luna promptly turned to send him a confused stare.
"Oops," he gulped. "Put a little too much power into that one. Sorry!"
A suspicious gleam appeared in Luna's eyes.
Before Harry even had so much as a chance to react, Luna suddenly took off running, right in his direction. He could do nothing but gawp in shock and surprise as she came crashing into him mere moments later, practically tackling him to the ground.
They hit the stone floor at approximately the same time, with Harry taking the brunt of the damage. A sharp pain in his head told him his cranium had not appreciated being slammed against a hard surface like that.
"Oww…" he grunted as he shifted around, an unfamiliar weight keeping him locked to the ground. A pale face came into view as he tilted his head downwards, and Harry soon found himself staring into the depths of two silvery orbs.
"Your eyes look different," Luna commented as she pushed her forehead against his.
"Uhh…" Harry responded, unsure of what to say to that. Their current position was more than a little compromising (with Luna seated comfortably on his pelvis), and so he found himself unable to voice an answer, his mind wholly preoccupied with other, less savory things.
"The color. It's off. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable. They're not as emerald-green as they used to be."
"How are you able to tell so easily?" Harry frowned.
"I don't know. But I'm absolutely sure about it. Your eyes have changed."
A moment of silence followed then, before an awkward cough from Hermione broke it up.
"Be that as it may… Would you mind getting off my boyfriend, Luna? You're in a… well, an interesting position," she stated, her voice laden with some undiscernible emotion.
"Position? Oh, you mean this one," Luna replied, turning to look at her with innocent eyes. "I see now how closely it resembles the sexual position known as Cowgirl."
A sound halfway between a snort and a cough escaped Harry's lips.
"Y-Yes, Luna," Hermione stammered, cheeks growing red with embarrassment. "It does. Which is precisely why I am asking you to get off."
"My apologies. I did not intend to insinuate any sort of sexual interaction between me and Harry," the blonde witch nodded as she rose to her feet, giving Harry a clear line of sight up her skirt in the process. She was wearing white lace panties, he noted.
"Ahh, just… forget about it, okay?" Hermione sighed, a defeated look flashing across her face.
"Of course!" Luna smiled, taking a couple of steps away from Harry, who promptly got to his feet with a grimace. "You still haven't addressed my concerns, though. Why are your eyes suddenly different, Harry?"
"W-Well…" he started, only to be interrupted by Hermione shortly afterwards.
"Something happened. It's… It's a bit difficult to explain."
"Hmmm…" Luna murmured, her silver eyes darting back and forth between the two of them.
"We'll tell you about it later, okay?" Harry nodded, taking a step closer to the blonde-haired witch before stretching out his pinky finger. "I promise."
Luna regarded his finger with thinly-veiled suspicion for a couple of seconds, before she moved to shake it with her own.
"Alright then," she smiled as they completed the promise. "I trust you."
"Hey! W-What about me?!" Neville commented. "I'm here too!"
"Don't worry, Nev. I haven't forgotten about you," Harry smirked. "You'll get all the details later. For now, though, you should focus on your combat training. You're quite far behind the rest of us, especially now that we know Luna is a dueling savant."
A wounded look flashed across the black-haired boy's face.
"I-I know…" he muttered in response. "I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize. We'll make a proper duelist of you yet," Harry reassured him.
"Yes, we will. You are more than welcome to train with me, if you'd like," Luna added with a dreamy smile. Neville nearly swooned at her words.
Best of luck Nev, Harry thought to himself with an amused smile.
Headmaster's Office
Albus Dumbledore let out a tired sigh as his hand drifted across the ancient tome in front of him, latching on to the corner of the page and turning it over. To his right, Fawkes sat perched upon his wooden stand, looking proud and regal with his crimson feathers and golden tail. He was roughly the size of a swan now, signaling that Burning Day was all but imminent. His claws and beak shone a dull gold in the light of the chandelier hanging from the crooked roof.
"Ahh…" Albus breathed as he leaned back in his chair. "Blasted vampires with their cryptic writings!"
Fawkes sent him a pointed stare in response.
"What? I'm not that bad," Albus frowned. "I do enjoy playing things close to the chest every now and again, yes, but this… these vampires… they are on a different scale."
The continued glare told him the phoenix didn't entirely agree.
"Oh, stop your gawking and burn already," Albus grumbled, closing the book on his desk before levitating it back into a nearby bookshelf with a wave of his hand. "Much like myself, you are getting far too old."
A sharp screech was the only reply he got as he popped a Sherbet Lemon in his mouth and rubbed at his overworked eyes.
"You know, for some reason… I really thought I would find an answer to my queries amongst Astolphus's writings. He is the only man confirmed to have been in possession of the tome in question, after all, even if he was a vampire."
Fawkes cocked his head.
"Yes, I know about the rumors surrounding Salazar Slytherin, of course, but he never mentioned it in his memoirs, and so it is profoundly difficult to figure out just how much the Founder actually knew."
With a light trill, Fawkes jumped onto the desk, before proceeding to steal a Sherbet Lemon from Albus's glass bowl.
"No, we've talked about this," Albus sighed. "You shouldn't be eating those, Fawkes. They aren't meant for birds."
Fawkes gave him a stern scowl in response, as if to say: "I don't care."
"Ah, fine then. Eat as many as you want. But don't come running back to me when your stomach gets all wobbly."
The phoenix shook his head in denial, before gobbling down the yellow-tinted candy.
"Happy now?" Albus asked.
"Haaaaa," Fawkes chirped.
"Good. Then maybe you can help me locate my copy of Origin of the Darkest Arts. I seem to have misplaced it."
Fawkes apparently wasn't interested in that, however, as he quickly retreated to his wooden stand.
"Hedonistic bird," Albus scoffed.
"Screeee," Fawkes cried.
A wave of exhaustion flooded Albus's body then, as he sat there bantering with his companion. Its arrival was unexpected and hasty, and caught him off-guard. Suddenly, he felt every bit his age.
"Fawkes, my old friend…" he breathed as he rested his head against his chair. "Do you think I'm going about this whole thing the wrong way?"
The phoenix took a couple of seconds to consider this question, before he bobbed his head up and down.
"Hmm…" Albus murmured. "You see, lately… I've started to think that… maybe I ought to reconsider my strategy."
A sudden barf went up from Fawkes, before he bent over and threw up a half-digested Sherbet Lemon.
"All this time, I've been trying to protect Harry by shielding him from the truth," Albus continued, taking little regard to his companion's antics. "I've hid things from him. Things, I now realize, I ought to have shared."
Fawkes gave him a deadpan stare, practically screaming the words: "no shit".
"Harry is not a boy anymore. He's growing up fast, and the older he gets, the more I can feel him slipping away from me. He no longer trusts my judgement, and now… I fear he may have turned to the Dark Arts for help."
Albus struck a forlorn expression as he let his eyes wander across his office.
"All these years, I've only ever wanted what was best for him. But I realize now that my approach has been ill-conceived. It has led to separation rather than unification. As it currently stands, me and Harry are no longer fighting on the same team. But that… that can change."
A hopeful gleam shone from Albus's eyes as he turned to face Fawkes once again.
"Tomorrow, I'll summon Harry here, to my office. We'll go over the current situation, and then… I'll tell him everything. Everything he needs to know. It is time for the Dumbledores and the Potters to stand united once more. All I dare hope for is that Harry's trust in me has not vanished entirely."
A/N: This chapter is markedly shorter than normal, mostly just due to the fact that it was originally attached to the previous one, chapter 25. I could have made it longer if I felt like it, but alas, it has already been more than a month since my last update.
I was very pleased to see so many of you enjoying chapter 25, by the way. It was a huge turning point in the story, and so I wanted it to have the narrative gravitas it deserved. Some of you had questions regarding Harry's eyes, and I'd like to put any speculation to rest right now: Harry has forever lost his mother's eyes. He can imitate them (to a certain degree) with magic, but he will never regain his old eyes. It's part of an ongoing theme with this story: that things have consequences.
I'm sorry if that disappoints you.
As for the future: I'm already making good progress on the next chapter. We're rapidly approaching the First Task now, and Harry is about to have his first encounter with a certain devious reporter. That's all I'll say for now. The chapter will be out in 2 weeks time, by my estimations, so you can look forward to that.
Oh, and for those of you wondering: Fleur Delacour will be back. We have not seen the last of her, I can promise you that.
So until next time, ladies and gentlemen... Twisted, signing off.
-Twisted