Class XXXXX creatures were largely considered untouchable in the wizarding world, their very existence a whispered nightmare that chilled even the bravest of hearts.
While creature classifications ranked the difficulty of capture, they were also indicators of the raw power a beast could wield over the world around it – its ability to impose its will through magic. XXX was the highest class even a prestigious school like Hogwarts would dare instruct, with XXXX creatures reserved for entire covens to contend with.
In theory, a creature's classification could fluctuate throughout its lifespan, with younger and older individuals often posing less of a threat than those in their prime. Yet, the rankings were based on potential, a measure of the heights a beast could ascend to in terms of sheer might.
However, the magical world was rife with anomalies, and one such abomination was the monsters assigned the class XXXXX – the true wizard killers. These were the stuff of legends, the boogeymen that had children shivering in their beds, the entities that every wizard, tamed beast or not, was expected to flee from without hesitation.
They were masters of manipulating the magical spectrum, their very existence a mockery of the natural order. Normal wizarding magic simply failed to hold against them, the threads of spells unraveling before they could even strike. Dragons and Nundus were known to erase entire covens in their rage. The only silver lining was their scarcity, with years passing between mere sightings of these abominations.
Yet, one fact had been largely accepted as immutable truth: never, in the history of the wizarding world, had a XXXXX creature been tamed. To even entertain the thought was considered nonsensical, a fool's errand akin to courting oblivion itself.
And yet, if Lily's words were to be believed, it seemed that the impossible had occurred. Someone, somewhere, had not only encountered a Lethifold – a creature so feared that even uttering its name sent shivers down the spines of seasoned witches and wizards – but had also managed to tame it, bending its unfathomable power to their will.
The events of that fateful night sent shockwaves throughout the wizarding world. Four entire families that called the village of Godric's Hollow their home had been wiped out – the Potters, Blacks, Longbottoms, and Bones were the only survivors. The McKinnons, Abbots, Thornes, and Ashfords were no more, their legacies extinguished in a single, brutal attack.
This was a significant loss for the wizarding community, but it was not the only revelation of import that the attack had unveiled. The attackers had left behind a ghastly apparition floating above the village, bathing it in an eerie emerald hue. A fiery skull with a serpent protruding from its mouth, and a few tendrils snaking out from its eye sockets, dominated the front page of the Daily Prophet. The words "Memento Mori" floated ominously below it.
Harry had spent a long while staring at the page, the image exuding an ominous presence even when printed on the bloody paper.
"They're calling themselves Death Eaters!" Sirius Black scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "What a pretentious name." Harry looked up to see his godfather sitting at the dining table, which was filled with people he had known his entire life.
Throughout the morning, the Potter floo had been a constant whirlwind of activity. Harry's sister Dorea had returned promptly with her husband, and his godfather had also arrived. Harry later learned that he, too, had been present at Godric's Hollow the previous night, only to travel to the Black ancestral home instead.
The Potter manor was filled with people, yet Harry had never felt the mood so somber. He hadn't even spoken to his parents apart from a few whispered reassurances and "I hope you're alrights."
Dumbledore leaned forward, his face grave. "Lily, forgive me, but are you sure the beast wasn't wild?"
James Potter, his eyes still haunted but now stable after an entire night of care from Poppy, let out a weary sigh. "It listened to orders, Dumbledore. It intercepted our casting and ignored those with masks. It was methodically planning guerrilla attacks for weeks, taking out our fighters before yesterday, when they launched a full-on attack. We were lucky some of Lily's wards were able to alert us before they failed."
"They got sloppy," Lily muttered, her voice devoid of life. "I don't think they meant to trip them."
"I should have been there," Bill, standing behind his father, spoke lowly.
Lily sharply turned towards him, an uncharacteristic sneer twisting her face. "What could you have done that we couldn't?!" Mary grabbed her, and Lily's anger dissipated as suddenly as it had flared.
Arthur sighed from his spot, his eyes gaining a faraway look. "Bill, my boy, you have a bright future ahead of you. I insisted that you not be involved. In hindsight, it was good that I did not." His gaze hardened. "A wizard killer of all things. And the witch too, a real firecracker, that one."
"She was good, wasn't she?" Lily's voice was dead, defeated.
Harry stood up abruptly and walked out of the house. He heard Nym call his name, but he couldn't stand to be there any longer – he needed fresh air. He looked back at the people in there, his heroes, and it hurt him to see them so bogged down, their spirits crushed. It scared him to witness the aftermath of a single Lethifold's rampage, how it had shattered the resolve of the very people he had idolized his entire life.
Harry walked over to the grove at the edge of the property, hoping to find solace in the company he sought there. As he neared the grove, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Buckbeak, the magnificent hippogriff and the tamed animal of his godfather, lazed alongside Prongs, the Potter family griffin. They had flown in that morning. Harry had grown up with them, finding comfort in their presence since his earliest memories. He walked over and sat right in between them, nudging them gently before they both let out a breath and scooted over, enveloping him in the soft warmth of their feathers from either side. Harry caressed their flanks, his hands finding purchase in some deep grooves, and he turned his attention towards them, noticing the swollen and deeply cut flesh.
"Are these from yesterday, Prongs?" The griffin simply nodded, and Harry felt a surge of anger at the thought of someone hurting his friends. He closed his eyes and rested against the beast, trying to leave the tension behind. The warmth of Prongs' feathers and the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing offered a small comfort. He let out a slow breath, willing the stress of the day to melt away, even if just for a moment.
"I figured I'd find you here," a familiar voice spoke up, and Harry opened his eyes to find Ron approaching the grove. Ron carefully gave a bow to both Buckbeak and Prongs before sitting a bit away from the animals.
Harry gave a sleepy shrug. "I simply had to get out, mate."
Ron nodded understandingly.
"Are they done yet?"
Ron nodded again, "Just about"
After a few beats of silence, Harry turned to look at him. "Do you think the ceremony will happen as scheduled tomorrow?" Harry asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
Ron nodded. "The animals are migrating further away from our borders. If we wait any longer, we may have to wait an entire year or try our hands in some unfamiliar forests down south."
Harry nodded, understanding the significance of the timing.
"Also," Ron continued, his gaze sweeping across the garden, "I reckon they would want more wizards to tame creatures, with the war and all."
Harry grumbled, "They did not look like they want us to do anything at all." Ron grimaced but remained silent, silently agreeing with Harry's observation.
The crunch of leaves caught their attention, and they looked up to see Lavender and Ginny appear at the edge of the clearing. Lavender looked to be a mess, her eyes swollen and bloodshot, tear tracks running down the length of her cheeks. Harry remembered that Lavender was closely related to the Abbots – one of her mums was an Abbott, after all.
Harry threw a pebble at Ron, silently urging him forward. "Go on, mate, she needs you. I'll be fine." Ron looked back at him, seeking confirmation, and Harry simply shooed him away. He stood and made his way towards them. Lavender threw herself at him, and terrible sobs wracked her body as she clung to him. Ron rocked her gently for a while before leaning in towards Ginny and pointing towards Harry. He then bent down to whisper something in Lavender's ear before walking her away, probably leading her back to her home.
Harry watched as Ginny made her way towards him.
"Hey," she greeted softly.
"Hey," Harry replied, scooting to his side and beckoning her to join him. Seeing her hesitate, he assured her, "Don't worry, they're good boys." Harry saw both Buckbeak and Prongs roll their eyes in unison before shuffling to make enough space for Ginny to slide in.
She let out a small giggle before lying beside Harry, and he was hit with the familiar, calming scent of wildflowers.
Ginny slipped her fingers into his. "It will be alright, Harry. They will figure something out," she said, turning to face him. "We will."
"I have never seen Father so defeated, Gin," Harry confessed after a few silent seconds, his voice breaking. "Mum never doubts her runes, and yet they both looked on the verge of giving up. I have..." He paused, his voice overwhelmed with emotion. "I've lost my grandfather, Gin."
Ginny simply placed a hand over his chest, holding him close.
Harry continued, his words spilling out in a torrent of pent-up fear and grief. "He wasn't a pushover himself. His salamander could spit flames, for goodness' sake!"
"No one has managed to escape a Lethifold attack before, Gin," he revealed, a few tears spilling down his cheeks. "It was a miracle that our parents did." Harry finally acknowledged the fears that had plagued his mind.
"And yet they did, Harry," Ginny spoke up, her own tears glistening in her eyes. She wiped them hastily before looking up at him with a familiar sheen of steel in her gaze.
"Not only did our parents survive, but so did these brave animals," Ginny said, touching the sides of the beasts beside them. Both Buckbeak and Prongs let out a pleased, hearty sound.
Ginny looked into his eyes, her determination unwavering. "Miracles do happen, Harry. You taught me that. Remember the stories you told me about humans standing up and winning against all odds? The stories where sacrifices were rewarded with miracles? The story you claimed to write for yourself?"
Harry found himself speechless, swallowing thickly. "They are simply fairytales, Gin."
Ginny scoffed, her eyes alight with conviction. "We live in a fairytale, Potter. And who am I even talking to here? Is this the same boy who spent hours building contraptions that others claimed would never work? Is this the same boy who used to study his mum's books for hours in the hope of writing one of his own someday? Is this the same boy who used to fearlessly sneak away at night to give his friend's sister a ride on his father's griffin, just because she wanted to touch the stars?"
She sat up, looming over him with a fierceness that took Harry's breath away. "Is this the same man who knocked out a griffin last week, something thought to be inconceivable?"
Harry stared up at her, mesmerized by the passion burning in her eyes, the strength of her convictions washing over him like a tidal wave. In that moment, she was the embodiment of everything he aspired to be – fearless, determined, and unwavering in the face of adversity.
Without a word, he reached up, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. Ginny's breath caught in her throat, her eyes fluttering shut at his tender touch. Slowly, deliberately, Harry pulled her down towards him, their lips meeting in a kiss that ignited a firestorm of emotions within them both.
With a sudden movement, Harry spun Ginny around, ignoring the sudden squawk of the animals around them, positioning her on her back without losing the passionate kiss they shared. He halted momentarily, gazing down at her with a look of fierce and undeniable passion in his eyes. "I love you, Ginevra Weasley," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Ginny's heart swelled with happiness, and her eyes sparkled with love as a small but genuine smile graced her lips. "I love you, too, Harry Potter," she murmured softly, her voice hitching with emotion.
In response, Harry descended on Ginny once again, kissing her with a newfound fervor that left her breathless. Ginny's body arced against the ground, her sensual curves molding perfectly against his hard muscles, as she moaned softly into his mouth.
Harry shifted and swallowed hard, Ginny's center pressed firmly against his growing manhood, causing his cock to twitch involuntarily in response. He broke off from the intense kissing, his cheek buried into the crook of Ginny's shoulder while his dark eyes flickered closed, captivated by the feel of her soft skin against his own. As her neck curved and formed beneath his cheek, Ginny gently bit at the spot next to his pulse, her teeth and mouth suckling on the patch of skin.
"Oh, Gin," he muttered, his voice ragged with lust. "That feels so fucking good."
Ginny moaned as she bucked her hips harder, driving her hot, throbbing pussy against his swollen, aching cock. He swore as he felt the heat of her sex through their clothes, the friction building exponentially with every movement.
"Fuck Gin," Harry managed to complete the name with a labored drawl, "need-need to... stop, Gin." A tremor shot through him, and he pressed his face into her shoulder, clenching his eyes shut as he fighting to hold onto even that scrap of control. "Just... need to... stop. I can't handle more."
Ginny's only reply was a sinful hump against him, her pussy growing wetter with every thrust. The heat of her fire-like lust was a feedback loop, pushing him closer to the brink with every little movement.
With little time to spare, Harry managed to disengage, with an almost Herculean strength, only to look down at her.
Ginny was indeed a sight to behold. Her cheeks flushed, eyes hooded in lust, and her body shivered in anticipation as she slowly licked her lips, locking her gaze onto Harry.
He shook his head, attempting to regain some semblance of control over his thoughts. "Minx," he muttered, half-laughing, half-scolding.
Ginny's playful expression faltered, morphing into a sulky pout that tugged at Harry's heartstrings. "Oh, come on," she teased, reaching up to gently poke him in the chest with her finger. "You better give me a place in your coven after this, you brute."
Harry felt a soft smile tug at his lips, and he knew he couldn't resist her charm. He reached up and cupped her face in his hands, leaning down so that their noses almost touched. "You already have a place in my heart," he said softly, his voice filled with affection and warmth that enveloped them like a cozy embrace.
Ginny's eyes searched his, and a brilliant smile broke across her face, lighting up her features with radiant joy. In that moment, Harry knew he would move heaven and earth to keep that smile on her lips.
He stood up and offered his hand to Ginny. "Let's head back," he said, his voice laced with reluctance at having to leave their secluded haven.
Ginny made an attempt at looking decent, straightening her dress and running her fingers through her tousled hair, while Harry stroked Buckbeak and Prongs. The two beasts looked far too smug for Harry's liking, as if they knew the intimate moments they had just witnessed.
As they entered the manor, the dining table was empty, suggesting that the Dumbledores had taken their leave. In the living area, they found the Weasleys and Potters scattered about, engaged in hushed conversations. With a gentle squeeze of his hand, Ginny split off to join her father, while Harry sought out his own parents.
His father, James, was still deep in conversation with his godfather, Sirius. Just then, Harry heard someone call his name. He turned to see his grandmother, Dorothea, and his sister Dorea, beckoning him towards them. He made his way over and sat between the two women, his sister immediately placing her head on his shoulder. She had always been closer to their grandparents than the rest of them, and Charlus Potter had been particularly partial to her when James had named her after his wife.
Slipping an arm around his grandmother, Harry offered his condolences. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Grandma," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Grandfather was a great man, and I'll always cherish the times we had together."
Dorothea melted against him, her frame shaking briefly as she fought back tears. She looked up at him, and Harry gently wiped away the moisture that had gathered in her eyes, his heart aching at the sight of her sorrow.
"Thank you, my dear," she said, offering him a grateful smile that warmed his soul. "He is in a better place now, Harry. He died doing what he did best – protecting those that he loved." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But enough of that. Let me see you properly, son."
After giving him a critical once-over, she nodded in satisfaction. "You've grown into a fine young man," she remarked, pride evident in her voice. "Are you prepared for tomorrow's ceremony?"
His sister shifted to look at him as well. "I almost forgot about your ceremony, Harry," she said, her brow creasing with worry. "Are you ready? Do you have all the potions packed? I wanted to teach you a few of the new runes I learned about in France. I'll have Pierre talk to you – he tamed his creature a few months back."
Pierre was her boyfriend whom she had formed a coven with, a few months after moving to France, and Harry knew how much she valued his expertise.
"Dorea, you needn't worry so much," Harry reassured her, pulling both women into a side hug. "I'm ready now that you're both here."
Nymphadora chose that moment to enter the room, leading Lily by her side. "Aww, you were not supposed to grow up so soon, Harry," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
"At least one of you did," Dorea piped up from Harry's side. Nymphadora stuck her tongue out in a playful retort.
Harry gently extracted himself from the embrace and approached his mother. He gathered her up into his arms, enveloping her in the warmth and security he had always found in her presence. Even though he now stood a head taller than her, he still felt the same sense of comfort and safety as when he was shorter than her knees.
"Are you feeling better now, Mum?" he inquired gently, and Lily nodded, her eyes shining with a mixture of pride and apprehension.
She held him at arm's length, studying his features with a mother's loving gaze. "My little man will have his taming ceremony tomorrow," she murmured, her voice laced with a bittersweet mixture of joy and trepidation. Moisture gathered in her eyes as she continued, "I'm sorry for not helping you more. Oh, there was so much I should have done. If only we had..."
Harry gently cut her off, his heart aching at the guilt he saw etched on her face. "It's okay, Mum," he reassured her. "Andromeda and Mary have helped me enough. You've already given me more than I could ever ask for."
Lily searched his eyes for a sign before nodding slightly. "You should go and have rest, Harry. You have an early start tomorrow, and you are unlikely to get enough once you are in the forest. I will pack a bag for you and make sure your belt, pouch, and robes are ready and filled up for tomorrow."
Harry simply nodded, allowing himself the selfish pleasure of being pampered by his mum.
Dorothea, Harry's grandmother, stood up and cleared her throat. "We are planning to hold the funeral for your grandfather after a few days. I know you would not want to miss it, so you can visit him later if you wish."
Harry nodded solemnly, his heart heavy with the recent loss. He stepped forward and enveloped his grandmother in a tight hug, drawing strength from her embrace before heading upstairs for much-needed rest.
The next morning, Lily woke Harry at an ungodly hour. He stretched mightily, his muscles protesting the early awakening. "What time is it?" he grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Lily waved her hand, and glowing numbers materialized in the air: 3:00 AM.
"Is it really necessary for me to wake up at three?" Harry groaned, his voice laced with disbelief.
Lily gave him an understanding look. "Predators are likely the least active now, Harry, having just completed their hunting cycles. It would be unwise to travel when the temperatures rise."
Harry knew this, of course, but that didn't make the entire situation any less challenging after two days of miserable sleep. He shook himself to rid his body of drowsiness and forced himself into the shower, the cold water instantly jolting him awake.
After donning his robes and jacket, Harry methodically checked each of the four pouches slung over his waist, ensuring he had enough runes to bring down a bloddy graphorn if necessary. With a grimace, he realized that he might as well aim for a graphorn too, given the recent events.
Pushing those thoughts aside for now, Harry made his way downstairs, where his godfather, Sirius Black, waited for him. Sirius grinned and pulled Harry into a tight hug. "You look ready to take on the entire forest, champ," he said appreciatively. "Aunt Marlene sends her regards, by the way. She just isn't..."
Sirius trailed off, his expression growing troubled, but Harry waved it off. "It's okay, Sirius. I understand, and I appreciate the thought."
Sirius smiled, relief washing over his features, before grabbing Harry's hand. "Come on, then. Your father and I would like to have a word with you and Ron. I guess those kids, Bill and Pierre, too," he added as an afterthought.
As they stepped outside, Harry saw the aforementioned individuals gathered on the front lawn. He made his way to stand beside Ron, noting that his friend wore the same armor as when they had fought the griffins.
James Potter, spotting Harry, gave him a proud smile before beginning his instructions. He went over the basics, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "Both of you have enough food to last a week, ten days if rationed properly. You have enough water to last three to four days. Drink copious amounts and stay near the fresh water river that runs across the forest in case you ever run out."
His gaze swept over Harry and Ron, ensuring they understood the gravity of the situation. "You are stocked with most potions to sail you through if anything goes wrong. But above all, return immediately once the animal is tamed."
Pierre and Bill stepped forward, offering their own advice. "To track down particularly elusive beasts, look for disturbed foliage and broken twigs," Pierre said, his French accent lending an air of exotic wisdom to his words.
Bill nodded. "And be wary of those that look dangerous. Find a good hiding spot and observe their patterns before making a move."
Ever the mischievous one, Sirius couldn't resist adding his own quip. "But most importantly, have fun! You're about to meet your lifelong companion, after all."
Harry tried not to dwell on the fact that they would first have to try and subdue, perhaps even kill, that very same 'lifelong companion.'
An uneasy silence fell over the group before James spoke again. "Any questions before we leave?"
Ron shook his head, determination etched onto his freckled features. But Harry, ever the inquisitive one, quietly looked at everyone and asked, "How did you know?"
When met with puzzled expressions, he elaborated, "Out of the thousands of animals out there, how did you know which to tame? Is it really up to chance, or did you explicitly choose the ones you did?"
The bonded wizards exchanged glances, as if communicating in a silent language only they understood. Finally, Sirius piped up, "Your blood will guide you, Harry. When the one meant for you appears, you will know. It is often said that the animal chooses the wizard."
Pierre nodded sagely. "Let the magic guide you, and you will find what you are meant to find." His words, though cryptic, carried a strange sense of reassurance.
With that, they all set off towards the Forbidden Forest, the witches having already gone ahead to take their positions. When they reached the edge of the treeline, quite a gathering had assembled to see them off, their peers offering well-wishes and words of encouragement.
Daphne, it seemed, had also woken early, and she wished Harry and Ron the best of luck, her eyes shining with a mixture of admiration and concern. Even Dumbledore, the venerable headmaster, had come to bid them farewell, his loyal phoenix perched majestically on his shoulder.
As Ron veered off to speak with his family, Harry approached the gathering of Potters. Andromeda was the first to embrace him, her eyes misty with unshed tears. "You will do well, Harry," she whispered, her faith in him unwavering.
Next, Mary gathered him in a fierce hug, tears streaming down her face. "Take care," she implored, her voice thick with emotion.
But it was Lily who had one final gift for her son. She pressed a small vial into Harry's hand. He examined the golden liquid within, giving his mother a questioning look.
"It's a healing potion, Harry," she explained, her voice hushed with conspiracy. "Enough to heal almost anything the forest could throw at you. I had Dumbledore's phoenix cry me a few tears this morning."
"You shouldn't have," Harry replied, touched by her gesture, even as he pocketed the precious vial.
Lily simply waved off his protests with a soft smile, her eyes shining with a mother's fierce love and determination to protect her child at all costs.
Next, Nymphadora and Dorea enveloped Harry in a joint embrace, their worry palpable. "Don't be an idiot out there," Nym warned, her tone only half-joking. "Come home as soon as possible."
Harry could see the fear flickering behind their eyes, and he nodded solemnly, vowing to heed their words.
Finally, his grandmother stepped forward, her gaze piercing straight into his soul. "Go out there and be a wizard, Harry," she said simply, her words carrying a weight far greater than their brevity suggested.
As Harry prepared to turn away, he felt a nudge on his arm. Ginny stood there, her warm brown eyes filled with a whirlwind of emotions – fear, pride, and an unwavering love that transcended the dangers he was about to face.
Without a word, Harry gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly as if she were his lifeline. "Will you wait for me?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Always," Ginny replied, her single word carrying a promise more powerful than any spell.
Harry smiled, his heart swelling with renewed strength and determination. But before he could turn away, James approached, pulling his son into a fierce embrace.
"Remember, Harry," he said, his voice strained with the weight of a father's fears. "The most precious thing in the world is your safety. So no matter what happens, please return."
Deaths during the ceremony were not uncommon.
Harry simply nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady. He tore himself from his father's arms and strode forward, joining Ron and Draco Malfoy at the forest's edge.
Dumbledore's voice rang out, solemn yet reassuring. "The wards extend for a few hundred meters from here. From then on, you are on your own."
The three young wizards exchanged resolute nods, no words needing to be spoken. Draco barely spared them a glance, but Harry raised his hand in silent solidarity – a gesture Draco answered with a tight nod of his own.
They were all hunting solo, but united in their purpose.
With a deep, steadying breath, the trio stepped forth, disappearing into the depths of the Forbidden Forest, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them within its ancient, unforgiving boughs.
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