For a wild moment, when Harry opened his eyes, he couldn't tell if he had actually died or not. He knew his eyes were open, and yet there was a near impenetrable dusk, alongside a deathly silence.

Trying to sit up yielded a sharp pain that forced him back into the mattress, cluing him into his continued life. He didn't think the other place would hurt so much.

His move did wake up Daphne, who'd been asleep unnoticed beside the bed.

"Hmm, Harry?" She mumbled, blearily turning to look at him.

"Yeah, it's me." He rasped, settling deeper into his pillow. "What time is it?"

"About three in the morning… you've been here for an entire day. It was scary, you had blood everywhere, and Madam Pomfrey was panicking, so they brought in this Healer from Paris. And your heart just stopped, they had to restart it." Daphne said in a rush, emotion thick in her voice.

"I just… is it always like this for you? Madam Pomfrey said she's used to you being in here, but you were just lying there and I didn't know what to do… I don't know if I could deal with this being a common occurrence… No, I could, but I won't be happy about it."

Reaching out blindly, Harry fumbled until he found her shaking hand and tried to convey a sense of comfort.

"I can't promise this won't happen again… but I do try and avoid getting hurt. Without a Triwizard tournament next year, well hopefully I won't end up nearly dead again."

"No, I'm serious, Harry! There was so much blood, they had to vanish your shirt because of it. It was awful."

Keeping her hand in his, he tried to lift the covers so that he could see for himself, only for pain to suddenly shoot up his left arm. Gasping from the pain, Harry hurriedly looked down, only to go deathly pale.

Just below his elbow, where his injured arm had been, was gone. In its place, the skin had been painfully twisted into a knot. He could easily feel the dark magic festering in the knot, preventing both magical healing and keeping the pain constant.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I can't tell you how glad I am to see you awake." Madam Pomfrey said, bustling around his bed and placing an entire tray of potions beside him.

"Now, first things first, you need to take all of these. The blues ones must be taken first, these are pain relievers. Next you'll need to take doses of Skele-Gro. This dark red one is for the Cruciatus aftermath, you'll need to take one cup everyday for two months. After that, you can take the yellow blood replenisher, red healing elixir and pepper-up potions, in any order. Finally you'll need to take these eight potions, any order. You'll need to keep taking those until I tell you overwise."

She carefully watched him as he followed her instructions, grimacing with each awful tasting potion. But, they did unmistakably help. The dull shivers he hadn't realised he'd been experiencing faded away, to be replaced with a roar of pain from his ankle.

"Now, you've been treated for as many injuries as we could, but some of your wounds are too deep, and will need long term care. Most pressing is your ankle, it will be a long and arduous recovery, but we are hopeful that by next year it will just be a memory.

"Your ribs will likely be sensitive for a few weeks, but as long as you avoid putting necessary stress on them you'll be fine. I will teach you a localised paralysis hex for your chest during the night. You will also want to eat several fatty foods to rebuild your magic, but I know you are already good with such requirements."

Then, to Harry's shock, Madam Pomfrey visibly shrunk and sighed sadly.

"It is also my unfortunate duty to say, your hand was beyond our ability to salvage. We can't even offer any artificial replacements, due to the nature of the injury. If you have your own ability to try and fix the injury, I will not hesitate to offer my own assistance.

"My office will always be open, if you'd ever like to talk. Equally, I will always be available to any owls, should you wish to communicate that way… I am deeply sorry, Harry, that we couldn't do more to help."

Reaching down with his now only hand, he gingerly pulled back his covers to reveal his damaged right ankle. The wound had been cleaned, but that somehow made it look worse than it had been. Wrapped in a strangely flexible transparent soft green magic, which he experimentally prodded.

While it distorted under his finger, he couldn't feel it on his ankle, just the all encompassing throbbing.

"That's… That's fine Madam Pomfrey. I'll see what I can do myself, I was able to help Lockhart from a similar wound. Thank you for trying." Harry tried to sound confident, or maybe hopeful, but to his chagrin all that came out was a tired dead tone.

"Could I… No, I need to talk to Dumbledore, please. It's about what happened at the Third Task, it is vitality important."

"Of course, he's just outside." Madam Pomfrey said, giving him a sad smile before disappearing behind the curtains.

"Harry, would you like me to stay here, or would you rather talk to the Headmaster in private?" Daphne asked, startling out of his thoughts. With a shock, he realised he hadn't been passively feeling people's magic, something he'd grown subconsciously used to over time.

"Sorry, yes please? Could you gather the others later? But make sure Vincent and Draco aren't seen with the others. They're going to be under a lot of scrutiny soon, so we all have to be careful."

"Of course, I'll let them all know."

When he actively focused, he could distantly feel her Turquoise magic leaving, even behind the cover of curtains. He could also feel someone's folded grey magic coming closer, storm-like flashes revealing Dumbledore's dark Indigo magic underneath.

"Harry." Dumbledore said thickly, not bothering to hide the depth of his emotion. "I cannot express how relieved I am to see you awake."

"Me too sir… Voldemort is back."

"I had assumed, but I had hoped… I had hoped. Please, Harry, what happened?"

With a deep breath, Harry told him everything, from when he first stepped into the maze, till he'd fallen unconscious at Dumbledore's feet. Reliving that night helped numb the experience of it, even as it stabbed a new blade of defeat into his heart.

"If I may, could I see your arm… the one that Peter cut, that is." Dumbledore finally requested, tears brimming in his eyes, even as his voice stayed strong.

"Voldemort could touch me, he'd broken my mother's protection."

For a very fleeting moment, Harry saw a flash of triumph in Dumbledore's eyes.

"What? What are you so happy with?" Harry demanded.

Smiling weakly, Dumbledore rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"He didn't break your mother's protection. It was my modification that bound it into your blood, but you broke that when you accepted my home as your home. What he did was take your protection into his own blood, perpetuating it. I must ask you to trust me here, the type of magic I have planned is the type that would fail given your knowledge."

Normally, he might've pushed, but in his current state he was just relieved it wasn't something else to stress about. He knew there was vague, conceptual magic, which relied heavily on someone's knowledge, or lack thereof. So, he just nodded, letting Dumbledore take the weight into his own hands.

"You have shown bravery beyond anything I could've expected from you, Harry. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it. You have shown strength, when far too many people just gave up."

"But he beat me." Harry replied, brokenly. "I could not beat him. I couldn't even defend against him. How am I meant to feel brave, when every time I'll see my fucking arm, I'll remember how badly I lost?"

Moving over to join Harry on the bed, Dumbledore brought him into a side hug.

"Harry, as I am sure you are sick of hearing, it is our choices, not our actions that define us. Being brave doesn't mean you beat the bad guy, get the girl and live happily ever after. It means you see an injustice, you face someone stronger than you, or can't see where the end is. It means you are scared, but keep going.

"Bravery is not the opposite of fear, or cowardice; bravery is the shadow of it. You cannot be brave, if you are not afraid. That is not to say you cannot act without fear, but in this, you were brave. You survived, and to me that is all that matters.

"The information you have given me will help in our fight against Voldemort, but I don't care. I care that you are here, for us to have our conversations. I care. And I will have to be brave, I will have to tell the minister that we are about to launch head first back into a war, a war we are not ready for. But I can do that with hope, knowing that brave men and women like yourself will stand beside me."

"I guess. But I am going to kill him, or die trying. I need to get stronger, I won't be helpless again. I'd like you to train me."

"If that is your wish… I will help you. I will be busy over the summer, but when we return to school I will begin training you."

Nodding gratefully, Harry felt another wave of exhaustion overtook him. "Thank you, I'll make you proud… Also, Voldemort said he had a spy here, someone who added my name to the Goblet and used it to remove my mithril." He murmured, as he tried to fight the sleep.

"You've already made me proud, Harry. I'll look into this spy, just focus on healing. Alastor and Nyphadora are on guard outside, along with Sirius and Remus." Dumbledore replied, voice fading out as Harry fell asleep.

He wasn't asleep long, or at least he hoped so. Early morning sunlight streamed through the window above his head. Turning, he spotted another blonde girl sitting beside him, although this one was too small and calm to be Daphne.

With the sunlight settling upon her like a halo, Luna had never looked more ethereal, especially as she stared owlishly down at him.

"Good morning Luna." He slurred, blinking sleep from his eyes and sitting up. Someone, probably Dumbledore, had tucked him back in, which was very nice but made it hard to leave.

"You were there when I woke up from my death, remember Harry? I thought it fitting I'd get to be here when you'd wake up too."

"I wouldn't think you'd remember that?" Harry admitted, before taking a deep drink.

"Oh yes, I remember it all vividly. I remember floating away, thinking I'd get to see my mother again. It felt like trying to swim in an underwater cave, with a strong current guiding me onwards. But then I could feel you, desperately holding onto me, pulling me back against the current." Luna said sadly.

"Do you regret it? Do you regret me saving you." Harry finally asked, forming the question he'd been avoiding.

"Oh no." There was no hesitation in her voice, which brought Harry immediate relief. "It would have been nice to see my mother again, but my father also needs me. You need me. And life is too precious to wish away… But I think, for some time I was grieving."

"Grieving? Like, your own death or…?"

"For myself I think. There's a sense of loss, that I didn't have before. I think I'm better now, but I know life will continue. And now I want to help you, in case you also need it."

"Oh… Luna I'm sorry, I wasn't there for you when you needed me." Harry said, suddenly struck with guilt at her genuinely helpful tone.

"No Harry, you were there, you just didn't know why. I deliberately didn't let you know, you had enough to deal with. When I needed comfort, you'd unconditionally offer it, even without realising it. I also had Justin and Crabbe to turn to, who've both tried their best.

"So I don't want you to blame yourself, I made the decision to let you focus on your task, because I knew that if I needed help you wouldn't hesitate to drop everything."

"I still should've noticed. Regardless of whether you let me know, I should've realised something was different." Harry replied guiltily. "But I'm glad you were able to find help, I'd hate for you to have been alone during a time like that."

"I would too, which is why I'm saying me and the others will be here for you if you need help too. But there is nothing to debate, I do not blame you, so for you to blame yourself must surely be an insult to myself."

Before he could craft a retort, he picked up raised voices as someone stormed into the infirmary.

"Minister, I must insist so stop this madness!" Dumbledore demanded, voice raised unnaturally loud.

"I am Cornelius Fudge, I am the Minister for Magic! And I demand you get out of my way." Fudge returned, equally as passionate.

"All due respects, Minister, I've been told not to let anyone see Harry without the Headmaster's permission. He needs to recover." That was definitely Tonks' voice, sounding like she was just outside the curtains.

"How dare you! You work for me, nobody else. Now I will be seeing Mr. Potter!" Before the curtains were thrown open, to reveal a furious trio of Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Flitwick. Beside them, Padfoot was outright growling at Fudge, who had seemingly shoved Tonks out of the way.

"So, Mr. Potter, you believe You-Know-Who has returned, do you?"

"Well, I certainly fought someone who called himself Voldemort, who I have no doubt was Voldemort." Harry replied coldly.

"Ah ha, so it could've been someone else, then?"

"You know what, sure. Sure, it could've been someone who changed themselves to look like Voldemort. Someone who knew how to summon the Imperiused Death Eaters, who responded to him as if he was the real Voldemort. Who was also able to use magic just like Voldemort. So now what, what's your next step?"

Blustering, Fudge seemed to gather himself up. "See, I told you, he isn't back!" But it wasn't to Harry, it was to Dumbledore.

"Minister, as Harry himself just pointed out, does that matter? We are both of the impression that he is back, but what if we are wrong? There is still an incredibly dangerous man out there, who can drag us back into a war you have ensured we aren't capable of fighting.

"But, what if it is you who is wrong? Are you willing to stick your head in the sand and refuse to act, purely out of spite? What do you think people will think, when they learn you could've stopped this war, the day it began, but chose not to?" Dumbledore demanded.

"Nonsense. I'm sure it was just some type of prank, which Mr. Potter's notorious over-imagination turned into… into this. I Don't believe it, I won't! This is a clear attempt to throw our society back into a panic, a panic from which you profited from, did you not Dumbledore?"

"You are blinded, Cornelius. I have never sought power, my interest has always been in thwarting darkness whenever it may rise. But you must act as you see fit. And I… I shall act as I see fit."

Huffing, Fudge turned to Harry, holding up a large bag of gold and throwing them in Harry's direction. "Your winnings, one thousand Galleons."

Reactively, Harry tried to catch, only for the bag to fly over his left arm stump and smack him in the chest. Fudge chose that time to make a 'dignified' run for it, scuttling out of the hospital wing as fast as he could.

After a moment of stunned silence, Dumbledore spoke up, "There is work to be done. Harry, I must apologise, for I won't be able to see you for some time. We'll talk when you come home for Summer; Until then, focus on your own recovery."

With the students going home far too soon, Harry stubbornly made his way to the group study room. He'd convinced Tonks to help him out the moment Madam Pomfrey's back had been turned, Sirius in dog form anxiously following behind them.

As he'd arranged, Daphne had gathered everyone, including the other three champions. All of them looked up anxiously when he entered, leaning heavily on his newly made mithril staff.

"Listen, Voldemort's returned, I fought him and lost badly. He gathered the old Imperiused Death Eaters, namely Draco and Vincent's fathers. From what you've both told me, I will suggest you keep your distance from me, for your own protection."

"Regrettably, I agree." Draco said, "I definitely won't forget who nearly got us killed, and that it was you who saved us, Harry. But we'd be in danger if we stayed, or forced to spy on you. I think we can both get away with just avoiding you, since that's what people seem to think happened this year."

"Good. I'll try and see if I can find a secret way for you to join us, but I'll pass messages through Daphne or Professor Snape if needed." Turning to Daphne, Ron and Neville, Harry continued, "The offer goes to you three, too. Luna is too well known with me, but you three have the chance to convince people we aren't friends."

"Never!" Ron loudly stated, head held high. Behind him, Neville firmly nodded his support. "I'm already a target due to being from a family of blood traitors. I'm not going to turn my back on you again."

"Don't look at me, I actually have more to gain by being with you. The other Slytherin's leave me alone since I'm under your protection." Daphne pointed out, "And my parents are safe, behind their 'perfect Pure blood', business and incredibly strong wards."

"Fine, thank you, I appreciate it. I'm not sure if we'll be able to continue these lessons, but we'll try."

"With all due respect, Harry, why did you ask us to be here?" Cedric called.

"I wanted to apologise. Voldemort has a spy, who made sure my name would be drawn, and then ensured it would be me who got to the Triwizard Cup. If I hadn't been here, then you would've all had a fair chance at winning."

"'Arry, don't be silly, we all fought our 'ardest. You won fairly, we don't mind." Fleur argued.

"Da, I am sad I lost, but I do not feel cheated. You were better man." Krum nodded, smiling faintly at Harry.

Grinning himself, Cedric instead asked "I don't suppose that the offer of continuing your lessons can extend to me."

"You sure? I won't mind if you are angry at this… I also don't want to find out years later that you've really been pissed this entire time."

"No chance, I'm a Hufflepuff. 'Where they are just and loyal, those patient Hufflepuffs are true, and unafraid of toil.' I'll gladly fight beside you."

"Seriously, thank you, everyone. I won't forget this… That was everything I wanted, I just need to talk to Fleur. Enjoy your summers."

Laughing, his friends started to disperse, with Draco and Crabbe patting him on the back before sneaking out the door.

"Yes, 'Arry?"

"Not here, I want to introduce you to someone, and give a gift. We'll need to go to my workshop for that."

Carefully, again with Tonks' help, they made the relatively short journey to his workshop. Watching Sirius make an undignified leap through the painting provided a welcome hilarity, even if it earned him a half-hearted glare.

The moment she entered the workshop, Fleur began literally glowing with an ethereal feathered light.

"You've been keeping this from me?" She demanded, voice oddly echoey.

"I was worried what would happen. But, I needed to go here, so I decided to find out." Harry replied, drawing upon the stuffy saturation of magic to work through his pain.

Unaided, he was able to scoop up his earrings, summoning ring, greeves, chestplate and Mutatio watch. Using his regained control over his mithril, he reformed them into a more malleable state, which allowed him to easily place them in their respective places upon his body.

Finally, he placed the Gauntlet ring upon his finger, once more wincing at how weakened the ring's magic had become.

The rest of his belongings would remain in the room, seeing as he had somewhere lost his desire to continue them. Just a year ago, he had been frantically his next project, looking forward to what new advancement he might find with his mithril.

Now… Now he just felt like his mind had been removed and placed in a cold stone room. He couldn't see the point in anything other than beating Voldemort. So what if he could make an ever flowing fountain, or a customisable music box. Voldemort was out there, and had several decades of magical knowledge Harry needed to catch up on.

But there was one project he wanted to do, one of his lights in the darkness.

"I think I can let you keep this feeling, Fleur. So that at any time, you could call upon this power. I'll proudly call you my cousin, but that will make you a target, especially since you are already everything a Death Eater might hate. I can protect you, but I will need a drop of your blood"

Shrugging, Fleur easily handed over her palm, before using a taloned finger to split open her skin. Quickly forming a plain mithril plate, Harry caught the drops of blood within the metal. To their combined amazement, her palm had already fully healed when they went to heal it.

Meanwhile his mithril had greedily accepted the blood, turning a soft gold without any will from Harry, whilst also growing slightly warmer on his hand.

Going over to his windows, which were showing the mid afternoon sun high over the Hogsmeade mountains. Dispelling one of the illusions, revealing the fake stone texture of the mithril walls, he withdrew the rare two mithraite crystals which had been projecting the live display.

Reforming the mithril plate into an amulet, complete with a lifelike imprint of Fawkes the Phoenix mid flight. He then pressed the two crystals into the images' eyes, which immediately started shining with the fire-like quality of Fleur's magic.

Even without nearly a year of practice, Harry seamlessly imbued the full ideologies into the amulet as he passed it to Fleur, completing the artefact.

"Here, put this on. It will act sort of like a battery, but will also be able to passively pull in atmospheric magic at all times. Because it has your blood, only you will be able to pull from its store, but you can do this at any time with just a thought.

"I have something similar, but as I'm not a Veela it's different for me. It's interesting though, I've never seen someone's blood change the metal like that, it's a shame you won't be here next year."

Hurriedly placing it around her neck, Fleur effortlessly figured out how to use it, grinning wildly when she felt power exclusive to her flood free.

"C'est incroyable! You don't know how much this means!" Fleur cried, leaping forward to enthusiastically kiss both his checks, before jumping back to offer her palm again. "I will gladly offer more blood if you'd like to experiment, especially if it results in something as amazing as this. It is the least I could do!"

Even with his arguing, he soon ended up with an extra ten plates of the golden mithril, which he secured away next to the workshop's secret heart.

"Right, well the other thing, if you are to be my cousin, I want you to meet my godfather. Sirius?"

It was a strange interaction, but Fleur and Sirius quickly grew used to each other, at which point Harry had to leave them. While the room certainly helped, the pain of being out of bed was growing steadily, and he regrettably let the two to seal his room behind them.

Now leaning heavily upon both Tonks and his staff, Harry limped towards the infirmary, only to run into Moody.

"Ah, Potter, I had hoped to see you. Nymphadora, I hope you won't mind if I talk to Harry alone for a bit? Thought I might offer my advice on losing a limb, that sort of thing you know."

Without even waiting for a response, Moody drew Harry into his office, before sealing the door behind him. It was clear the man was moments away from leaving, with the room almost entirely bare, leaving just his travelling chest and leg stand. He could also spot the opened Marauders Map on the man's desk.

"So, Potter, Triwizard champion, how does it feel?" Moody asked, as he sat down and used a key to release his false leg. Mainly trying to ignore his own pain, Harry wandered over to the lone window and looked down on the Quidditch pitch.

"Yeah, it feels great. First I got beaten up by some unknown guy, then I got heavily beaten up by Voldemort. Oh, and my best friend almost died and I ruined an important artefact to save her. And now, I have to get used to not having my main arm, while also having to get a third wand."

"Ay, I understand. It took me a long time to grow comfy with my leg and this eye. Despite how good they may be, I still miss my actual leg and eye… but needs must."

Hearing the man place his false leg upon its stand, Harry randomly remembered how the man had gotten his robes caught in his leg in his rush to help, the night when Harry had fought the invisible intruder. Glancing back at the Quidditch pitch, where it seemed a few members of Slytherin and Hufflepuff were having an unofficial match, Harry frowned.

"Professor, didn't you say you saw our fight from your window? That night we got attacked… How could you have seen, that happen on the other side of the castle."

"Ah, I had wondered if you'd notice my mistake." Moody growled, although it didn't sound quite like him.

Hairs prickling at the back of his neck, Harry spun, only to stumble as his injured foot buckled under the weight. The stumble doubtlessly saved his life, as a colourless spell stuck where his head had just been. Where Moody had just been, a new man stood, wearing Moody's now oversized clothes. Even while unkempt, the man was unmistakable.

"Barty Crouch." Harry wheezed, slowly trying to circle to the door. At his best, he'd been unable to beat the man, now without an arm or wand, he was doomed. His only hope was getting Tonks and running away.

"At your service! I must say, Potter, you were one of the best student's I've had the pleasure of teaching. So eager, so trusting. It wasn't easy, stopping your metal powers. I had to sacrifice that great cutlery you'd made Mad-Eye, but it was worth it.

"I felt my master rise, but I knew my orders. We feared you'd escape, with your history of rotten luck. It was me, who guided you through those tasks. But it was also me, feeding letters to Fudge about your attention seeking behaviour.

"Oh, he sucked it right up, with dear Lucius at his side, unwittingly helping us. All it took was a small word, the slightest whisper, to utterly convince our glorious minister that Dumbledore was working with you. To try and overthrow the ministry."

Barty crowed, wand held loosely at Harry.

"And here you are. A year of work, a year of keeping up a constant act, even with my own father trying his best to reveal the plot. But I got him in the end, didn't I Potter? True, he may be beyond my reach in Saint Mungos, be that's the beauty of a family spell.

"It's funny, if he hadn't kept his silence, if he'd chosen to reveal what I'd done to the Longbottoms, he'd likely be awake now. But in his doomed hope to salvage his reputation, he'd condemned himself to a slow death, locked inside his own mind.

"A fate that you must now experience, so that I might offer you to my Lord again. Farewell, Harry Potter."

He hadn't gotten to the door, he was barely half way. His leg was screaming at him, and even if he threw himself there, Barty would defeat him long before he could undo the sealing.

Instead, he blessed his stars and used his ring to conjure his magic Saber, instantly igniting the blade and using it to bat away Barty's spell. Without his other arm, his shield was lost forever, something he'd just belatedly realised when he'd tried to summon it.

Idly, he wondered if his missing left arm was now equipped with a shield, or if the severing of his arm had also severed the mithrilium's power. Not that either helped him now, as he was forced to bat away yet another spell, as he continued his desperate shuffle to the door.

The conjured net was easily thrown aside with his aerokinesis, while the transfigured desk spider was split in two.

If Barty had been a transfiguration or charms master, Harry would've failed, overwhelmed. Instead, he was fortunate Barty counted heavily on the dark arts, spells which Harry could try and deflect.

With the door just out of reach, Barty's eyes suddenly narrowed, as he realised Harry's plan.

"Well, it seems we can't have everything. I trust you remember my first lesson, Potter? Avada Kedavra!"

With the rush of Death coming towards him, Harry desperately raised his saber into its path, wildly hoping for a miracle. As he'd dreaded, the spell ate away at his saber's magic the moment it touched, only for his saber to instantly resupply the magic.

The result was a bizarre occurrence where the green ball of fire spun continuously into the blade, only for the blade to keep it at bay with a roaring rush of its own vibrant green Mithrilium. From the strain on Barty's face, Harry inferred he was still bound to the spell, unable to release it or cast anew.

It was a fantastic opening for Harry to attack, if it wasn't for the fact he could barely hold himself up, and couldn't move his saber without being killed. He was also alarmed by how warm the saber's hilt was growing in his hand, as new blazing hot magic continuously spun within the blade.

Finally, something happened. Later, he didn't know if the hilt had exploded, sending a reaction into the blade and then Killing Curse; Or maybe that Curse had taken in too much magic, and ruptured its own intent. But somehow, a giant explosion of magic erupted between them.

He could feel himself forced into the wall behind him, with his chestplate doing its best to protect him. But then suddenly the wall gave way, and he slammed into the wall in the corridor, spewing fire and dust everywhere.

Instantly, Tonks was standing over him, wand pointing through the hole he'd made, while vanishing the dust.

With the dust cleared, she could make out a scorched room, with an equally large hole where a window had once been. Carefully creeping into the room, and glancing through the hole, she could make out an unknown man crawl out of a deep ditch in the grounds.

Not wanting to hang around, Tonks scooped up Harry and took off to the hospital wing, trusting the portraits to alert Dumbledore.

End of Part 3

Well, it's finally here. It didn't want to be written, I had to take an extra week to finish it, but I can confidently end this Part. It's the longest chapter I've written for a while.

Next week, I'll be on holiday with my friends, then my focus will be on finally finishing my second story 'Time Heist'. I would like to get back to this story, and release chapter 108 in June, hopefully on the 4th Anniversary of this story, but I can't promise anything.

Things I think need explaining:

- Workshop Windows: Back when I first introduced the new one earlier this year, Harry used some of the few mithraite crystals he'd gotten from the Gauntlet to copy an image of the old workshop windows to the new workshop. Since Harry is hoping the big clump of mithraite he had growing in Dumbledore's garden was ready, he doesn't mind giving up two of the crystals to protect his new cousin.