A note from ancient past...

Oct 18, 2021: Nothing in this chapter was planned. Each section was made on a different day depending on my emotions after dealing with the events of April 17th. Honestly, it's practically an interlude because, fuck me, I did not expect the Cipher plot to get that out of hand.


Let's take full stock of the situation, shall we?

People who know that I know the future: Harry, Salvatore, Dumbledore, Snape, and Torrero-Ramirez. With possibilities of Sirius and Remus as well. Maybe even McGonagall and Sprout, depending on what Dumbledore tells them.

People who know that I'm not a true seer: Salvatore, possibly Torrero-Ramirez, too, but she'll find out soon anyways.

People who know that I've reincarnated: Snape, possibly Dumbledore, soon to be Torrero-Ramirez and likely Salvatore in the process. (I'm dreading those conversations already.)

My crimes: Using unforgivables, casting dark ritual magic, one count of murder, four counts of torture/disfigurement of fellow students - including striping a girl of her very soul.

The likely result: Azkaban. Unforgivables alone is a life sentence. Murder and soul destruction? I'll be locked up so bad my legacy will be a chapter of infamy in the history books. Well… I guess they're halfway to it already, seeing as my wand's broken. Joy.

Memory damage: Extent unknown. There are some loose memories of past life due to popped orbs, but I can't be sure of how many loose memories got erased. Estimated loss: 10% of the fourth floor, 4% of the fifth floor.

Good news: the third-and-a-half floor only had structural damage due to the horcrux tear. Memory orbs remain intact. The room has since been rebuilt under tighter security, along with tweaks to Lucifer's motivations and directives. ...Not that any of this will be useful once I'm in prison, but I'll take the small victories.

Bad news: Aside from the obvious from above, it turns out that the Death Stick hurts like a motherfucker whore! Which makes Dumbledore a bigger problem now.

Weird news: Harry is now master of the Elder Wand.

In short, I'm fucked.


The victims' parents arrived the next morning.

Mrs. Weasley wailed when she saw George. Crushing the boy into a weeping hug, despite Madam Pomfrey's protests. Across the room, a similar reaction was happening at Avery's bedside, though far quieter in its misery. Rowle and MacNair, at least, were able to have a tearfully balanced reunion with their families. Of course, that was also in complete opposition for the parents of Samuel Runcorn, their mournful silhouettes obscured behind a curtain.

Harry shied his eyes from the silhouettes. After watching each of the other reunions, he inevitably drifted to Melly's bed. Laid empty since the middle of the night.

"WHERE IS SHE, THE SCUM THAT DID THIS TO MY DAUGHTER?" Mister Rowle shouted. "I DEMAND JUSTICE, DUMBLEDORE!"

"I assure you, Mister Rowle, justice will be served." He answered calmly.

"Then she's been arrested?"

Dumbledore offered a small nod. "The perpetrator has been removed from Hogwarts."

The man harrumphed. "Good! She'll rot in Azkaban for this! Mark my words!"

Removed?! Harry's eyes widened. Carefully, he slipped out of bed and walked to Professor Snape, who stood by the door watching the reunions with a calculating eye. "Pardon me, Professor, but why did Dumbledore let her be arrested? She's a victim like everyone else!"

Snape scowled, still looking out towards the weeping families. "You'll note that the perpetrator has been removed from Hogwarts, Mister Potter, as it should be. As for the… Other Victim," the title said in disgust, "they have been placed elsewhere, while certain inquiries are being made."

"Then she-"

"I'm sure all of these families are quite relieved that the person whose wand harmed their children is no longer present. Then again, caring guardians can be quite protective over their children, when given the opportunity."

Harry's mouth snapped closed. He nodded, acknowledging the warning. "I suppose so."

A moment of quiet passed between them. Together they watched as each of the families spoke to Dumbledore, Pomfrey, and each other. Sometimes yelling, other times crying, and every time justice was demanded Harry felt a twist in his insides, knowing that nothing could be said without putting her life at risk.

"While you're here, Mister Potter, twenty points from Hufflepuff."

"What?"

"For ignoring my caution about risking students' lives for a heroic adventure."

"You can't be serious!"

The man twitched a smile. "I believe I made myself quite clear that night. Though I suppose, you being your father's son, you can't help but act rashly against all manner of safety and common sense."

Wow. Harry thought in disbelief. He is actually being serious.

"That being said…" the small smile returned, fixing just a while longer, "I award twenty points to Hufflepuff for each of the lives you saved yesterday." He looked down at Harry. Though his lips went tight, his eyes shined. "You did well, Potter. Lily would be proud of you."

An emotional blow hit Harry. First in shock over the points, then again with the mention of his mother. Lily would be proud of you. The words echoed in his head. Lily would be proud of you. His eyes glistened. "Thank you, Professor."

Snape nodded. His head then turned back to watch over the room. Harry joined him likewise, letting the flurry of emotions take root.

"That being said, Potter, never do that again."

Harry smiled. "I'll try my best, Professor."


Melissa woke up alone, in a bed she didn't know. She sat up slowly, blinking sleep, taking in the small space. A simple nightstand with a half-lit candle at her side. A writing desk beyond that, and a small, old dresser on the opposite wall. A closed door with a keyhole was on the other side of the room. Locked, most likely. All of this illuminated by a single window above the desk, sunlight shining through and exposing dust motes from the musty old curtains.

She should panic. The idea felt like common sense. She has no idea where she is, after all; yet Melissa was so incredibly exhausted from the shocks of yesterday that her emotions were muted. Barely functioning. Blink, observe, questions skimming the surface. To do anything else is too much energy to contemplate.

A breeze rustled the curtains. Warm air filling the room. It took sluggish seconds to realize that movement came with it. It settled at the footboard of the bed, the movement only computing after her eyes registered a new brightness in the room.

"You're Fawkes."

The brightness stared back at her. A soft trill came from the phoenix. Sweetness, calming; crooning emotions that overwhelmed her weakened senses. She fell back against the bed, shuddering and breathing hard, unable to comprehend.

Somewhere beyond her senses came a flutter of wings. Struggling past the weight of exhaustion she cracked open her eyes. The bird was on the nightstand now. Its head peered down to hers, tilted sideways with some unknown question.

She had to break contact. Closing her eyes, she moved her head to face the ceiling for safety's sake. "You should go. I'm not a good person. You're wasting your time with me."

The bed shifted with new weight. With it came warmth across her cheek and shoulder. Her breathing grew ragged. Just go. Her thoughts whispered in prayer. It's too much. Please! Leave!

A drop slipped down her throat.

The touch was instantaneous. A seed sprouting across her throat. Roots burrowing up her airway. Buzzing through her ears and nose. Branching into her brain. Leaves flourishing, weaving, filling spaces like a sapling reaching for the sun. Crowning beyond the void to touch the filled parts of her mind, connecting them in ways that only now made her realize how empty she truly was before this moment.

She gasped at the sensation. Overwhelmed, yet revelling in the forest of emotion. It felt like life. It felt like rebirth!

Quaking as the forest took hold, she turned to Fawkes, gasping. "How? Why?"

The phoenix trilled in answer; and, in impossibility, she understood what it wished to say.

We're the same.

Arms and wings engulfing, sunlight filled the soul, and the forest nurtured under a rain of tears.