The first golden rays of dawn crept like silent serpents through the dormitory windows, painting the Hufflepuff banners with a honeyed light that held the promise of a new day. Harry Potter lay nestled in his bed, cocooned within the comfort of warm blankets which seemed to protest as he stirred awake. His messy black hair starkly contrasted against the pale pillowcase, and his silver eyes fluttered open to meet the world's soft glow.
"Morning already?" he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
"Has been for a while," came Daphne's voice, startlingly close, and when Harry turned his head, there she was, sitting cross-legged at the foot of his bed. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like a waterfall of molten gold, her green eyes reflecting the plants that thrived in every nook of the room, courtesy of her Demeter heritage.
"Sleep well?" she asked with a tilt of her head, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.
"Like a log," Harry replied, pushing himself into a sitting position, and running a hand through his unruly locks. "Dreamt I was back with the hunters of Artemis, but everything was upside down."
"Sounds disorienting." Daphne chuckled, and then her expression turned thoughtful. "So, have you decided? Male or female form today?"
Harry sighed, the blankets slipping from his shoulders as he considered the question. It wasn't just about preference; it was about self-expression. Each morning presented an opportunity, a choice that spoke volumes without uttering a word.
"Still on the fence," he confessed, feeling the weight of her gaze on him. Their soul bond hummed between them, a silent conversation of emotions and sensations, transmitting his indecision.
"Take your time," she encouraged, "but remember, Transfiguration with McGonagall first thing."
"Right," Harry acknowledged, biting his lip. He stood, beginning his morning stretches, feeling the muscles wake in tandem with his mind. "Female form, I think. I feel... I dunno, bold today."
"Bold is good," Daphne agreed, standing to join him in stretching, her movements graceful and deliberate. "It suits you."
He nodded, closed his eyes, and focused. The change was always strange, a sensation of shifting tectonic plates beneath his skin. But it was also liberating, freeing. When he opened his eyes, his reflection in the mirror showed him his other self: softer features, longer hair, the same lightning-shaped scar etching its history onto his forehead.
"I think for this first week of school I will be a female," he said with a newfound confidence, though a small part of him still twinged with nerves. It wasn't fear of what others would think—after everything he'd been through, judgment from his peers seemed trivial—it was more a personal challenge, embracing all facets of who he was.
Daphne beamed at him, pride evident in her gaze. "Remember what Professor Sprout said yesterday, when you're a female you must wear the appropriate uniform," said Daphne while grabbing a hairbrush, "want me to brush your hair?"
Harry who was now dressed in his uniform skirt, and shirt sat down on his bed, "Do whatever you want with it"
The brush ran through Harry's hair, smooth and gentle, as Daphne's skilled hands worked to tame the unruly locks. The room was quiet, save for the soft bristles against hair and the distant sounds of the castle waking up. Harry felt a sense of peace in this routine, a comforting simplicity amid the complexities of his life.
Daphne's touch was careful, almost reverent, as she braided his hair into an elegant plait that fell over one shoulder. "There," she said, her voice tinged with satisfaction. "You look amazing."
Harry peered at his reflection, taking in the sight. The girl in the mirror stared back with a mix of familiarity and novelty. Her eyes, a brilliant silver, held a depth of experience, and the braid added a touch of grace to her appearance.
"Thanks, Daphne," Harry replied, feeling a swell of gratitude. "You always know how to make things better."
Harry slipped into his soft, golden Hufflepuff robe, the fabric warm against his skin. As he walked into the common room, he was greeted by the sight of Susan and Hannah, their faces a mix of shock and awe at the unexpected appearance of their fellow housemate's appearance.
"Susan I am level Three metamorphmagus," said Harry.
"Meaning you have no set gender," finished Susan, "Harry, Mum sent me a letter yesterday, she wants to know where you have been before Hogwarts, and what is with your accent?"
"First my accent is Greek, second tell Aunt Amelia to send me a letter, and I will reply and also tell her I don't have an owl but I do have a hawk called Lyra who acts as my personal Owl" replied Harry
Susan nodded, her curiosity piqued. "Greek? That's fascinating. And I'll let Mum know. She's just been worried since the Dursleys were arrested when you were five, she is glad that you are attending Hogwarts for your first year."
Harry smiled, understanding the concern. Amelia Bones, Susan's mother, was known for her thoroughness, especially in her role within the Ministry of Magic.
"Susan, tell your mum I appreciate her concern. It's a long story, but I've been well taken care of," Harry reassured her, his voice soft yet firm. "As for my time before Hogwarts, I was in Greece, living with a group of people who... let's just say, taught me a lot about who I am and what I can do."
Susan seemed satisfied with the response, though her eyes still held a spark of curiosity. "Alright, I'll let her know. But you have to promise to tell us more about your adventures in Greece sometime. It sounds incredible."
"I promise," Harry said with a chuckle, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. His past was complicated, and he wasn't quite ready to delve into all the details with his new friends. Not yet.
As they headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling within him. Hogwarts was a new beginning, a place where he could explore his identity and abilities without the constraints he'd faced in the past. The thought of learning more about magic, about himself, and about the wizarding world filled him with a sense of purpose and wonder.
The Great Hall was bustling with activity as students from all four houses gathered for the morning meal. The enchanted ceiling displayed a clear blue sky, mirroring the beautiful day outside. Harry, now fully embracing his female form, felt a sense of belonging as he sat down at the Hufflepuff table with Daphne, Susan, and Hannah.
As they ate, the conversation flowed easily, ranging from classes to the latest Quidditch news. Harry listened intently, absorbing every bit of information, eager to learn and experience all that Hogwarts had to offer.
"So, Harry, you said you're a Level Three Metamorphmagus," Hannah inquired, her tone curious. "Does that mean you can change your appearance at will?"
"Yes, to an extent," Harry replied, enjoying the opportunity to share a part of his unique identity. "I can change my gender, hair colour, eye colour, and other features. But it's more than just physical changes; it's about expressing different aspects of myself."
"That's really cool," Susan said, her eyes wide with fascination. "It must be amazing to experience the world in different ways like that."
"It is," Harry agreed, smiling. "And I'm still learning about it every day."
As breakfast came to a close, Professor Sprout approached their table, her eyes twinkling behind her spectacles. "Miss Potter, a word, please?"
Harry followed Professor Sprout to the hallway, "Miss Potter, here is your schedule, for your year due to how small the class is all houses will be together for all classes," said Professor Sprout, handing Harry a parchment that detailed her class schedule. "And I must say, it's quite refreshing to see such a unique student at Hogwarts. Your abilities as a Metamorphmagus are quite rare."
Harry scanned the schedule, noting the variety of classes. "Thank you, Professor. I'm excited to learn here. I hope my... versatility won't be a problem."
"Not at all," Professor Sprout assured her with a kind smile. "Hogwarts is a place for learning and growth. Your abilities will be embraced here. Just remember, the same rules apply to you as to every student. Be on time, work hard, and respect your peers and professors."
"I understand, Professor. I'll do my best," Harry responded earnestly.
"Very good," Sprout nodded. "Now off to breakfast with you. Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall is your first class, and I dare say you wouldn't want to be late."
Harry returned to the table, quickly finishing her meal. As the breakfast crowd began to disperse, Harry felt the familiar flutter of excitement and nerves at the prospect of starting her first day of classes.
"Ready for Transfiguration?" Daphne asked, standing up from the table.
"As I'll ever be," Harry replied, standing up as well. She adjusted her Hufflepuff robe and took a deep breath. "Let's go learn some magic."
Harry made her way to the Transfiguration classroom with Daphne, Susan, and Hannah. The corridors of Hogwarts were filled with the chatter and laughter of students, the walls adorned with moving portraits that occasionally offered advice or directions.
As Harry entered the classroom, her eyes widened in awe at the spacious and well-lit room. Rows of desks neatly lined the space, all facing a large open area at the front where a tabby cat sat perched on a desk. Ron burst into the room, followed closely by another student.
"Phew, we made it! Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late?" Ron exclaimed.
The cat suddenly leapt off the desk and transformed into Professor McGonagall, leaving the two boys stunned.
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed again.
"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps it would be more useful if I were to transfigure Mr. Thomas and yourself into pocket watches. That way, one of you might actually be on time," Professor McGonagall replied sternly.
"We got lost," Dean chimed in.
"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats," Professor McGonagall retorted with a raised eyebrow.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
With a flick of her wand, she transformed her desk into a pig and then back again. The rest of the students were amazed and eager to try their own transformations, but it quickly became clear that it would be a while before they could do anything as advanced as turning furniture into animals. After carefully jotting down their notes, each student was given a match and instructed to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Harry and Daphne had made any progress in their attempts to transfigure the match.
"Miss Potter, Miss Greengrass please stay behind for a moment," said Professor McGonagall when the class was over.
"I was told by Professor Sprout, that you both are level three metamorphmagus, is this correct?" asked the Professor.
"Yes, Professor, it's correct," Harry replied, while Daphne nodded in agreement. "We both can change our appearance at will, including our gender and other physical features."
Professor McGonagall peered at them over her spectacles with a look that was both stern and intrigued. "Level three Metamorphmagi are rare, and their abilities can be a valuable asset, particularly in the field of Transfiguration. However, it also presents unique challenges in a classroom setting."
"We understand, Professor," Daphne said. "We'll make sure our abilities don't disrupt the class."
McGonagall nodded. "Good. It's important to practice self-control and to use your skills responsibly. Now, regarding today's lesson, I was impressed with your progress. Transfiguration is a demanding subject, and your innate talents may give you a certain advantage. However, do not rely solely on them. The theory and understanding behind the magic are just as crucial."
"We'll keep that in mind," Harry assured her.
"Excellent," McGonagall said. "I expect great things from both of you. You may go now."
"Here we go again," Harry thought, as hushed murmurs trailed her the moment she stepped out of his dormitory the following day. She noticed the students outside classrooms craning their necks for a glimpse of him or altering their routes to cross his path again, their curious eyes seeming to bore into his skin. Annoyed by the incessant scrutiny and the whispers his enhanced hearing picked up—a gift, or rather curse, from being a child of Artemis—she yearned for a peaceful, uninterrupted walk to her classes.
Navigating Hogwarts was akin to navigating a labyrinth. The castle had a mind of its own, with one hundred and forty-two staircases that had a whimsical nature. Wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led to unexpected places on Fridays; some with a deceiving step halfway up that you had to remember to leap over. The castle was a mystery, with doors that demanded courtesy or tickling to open, and walls pretending to be doors. The moving portraits and walking armours made the corridors seem alive, further confusing Harry.
Adding to the castle's eccentricities were the ghosts. The Fat Friar, despite being helpful in directing the new Hufflepuffs, often gave a fright when he glided through doors. But, Peeves the Poltergeist was a different story altogether. His mischief knew no bounds—from dropping waste baskets on your head, yanking rugs from under your feet, pelt you with chalk to sneaking up behind you, grabbing your nose, and screaming, "GOT YOUR CONK!" At times, Harry wished he could banish Peeves to the underworld and hand him over to Lord Hades.
The caretaker, Argus Filch, was a figure more dreaded than Peeves. He had a knack for appearing at the most inopportune times, such as when Harry and Susan inadvertently ventured into the out-of-bounds third-floor corridor, earning Filch's wrath. His cat, Mrs. Norris, a mirror image of Filch with her bulging, lamp-like eyes, was a patrolling nightmare. A single toe out of line, and she would summon Filch, who'd appear wheezing, as if from nowhere.
Once they finally found their classes, the real challenge began. The intriguing world of magic was not as simple as waving a wand and uttering strange words. Harry's Wednesday nights were spent under the vast star-studded sky, observing the celestial bodies, their names, and movements—an activity that energized him, courtesy of his lunar lineage.
Herbology with Professor Sprout, held thrice a week in the castle's greenhouses, introduced them to a myriad of strange plants and fungi, their care and uses. Being the son of the Goddess of Nature and Vegetation, Harry was familiar with many plants, but this was a whole new world of flora.
However, History of Magic was the class that would always lull Harry into a deep sleep. The spectral Professor Binns, who had left his body behind one fine day to continue his monotonous lectures, did a perfect job of mixing up Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball amidst the barrage of dates and events.
Professor Flitwick, the tiny Charms teacher, had to perch atop a pile of books to peer over his desk. The excitement that seized him during roll call when he squeaked Harry's name and subsequently disappeared behind his desk left Harry curious, making a mental note to question Artemis about the half-goblin's peculiar reaction
The students sat at their assigned cauldrons, chatting and chattering as they prepared for their Potions class. The door suddenly burst open, and Professor Snape swept into the room, his long black robes billowing behind him. He made a dramatic entrance, silencing the students with a stern glare.
"Silence!" he bellowed. "There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making." He paused, his dark eyes scanning the room until they landed on Draco Malfoy, who smirked back at him.
"However," Snape continued, "for those select few..." He glanced at Draco again before turning to face Harry Potter, who was diligently taking notes. "For those with the necessary skill and determination, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can show you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death."
Draco raised an eyebrow at Snape's words, while Susan nudged Harry, urging her to pay attention to their professor. Snape walked over to where Harry was sitting and leaned in close.
"Mr. Potter," he said in a low voice. "Our... new... celebrity." He sneered slightly as he spoke. "Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
"Drought of the living death a sixth-year question" replied Harry, breathing in and out trying to keep calm.
"50 points from Hufflepuff for your cheek" sneered Snape, "Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?
"Bezoars occur in animals and humans of all age groups and are most commonly found in the stomach," said Harry. "But considering you are trying to make me look dumb, it can be found in your potions cabinet, and the one you're specifically looking for can be found in the stomach of a goat. and this is a third-year question"
"50 points from Hufflepuff for cheating," said Professor Snape "And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfbane?"
"There the same plant, again a seventh-year question, may I ask why you're trying to embarrass me by asking questions beyond are level considering we are first years?"
"100 points from Hufflepuff" sneered Snape
The Potions lesson continued and Snape organized them into pairs to work on a potion to cure boils. Malfoy was given preferential treatment as Snape praised him for perfect stewed horned slugs. Suddenly an acidic green smoke filled the room and a loud hiss erupted from Hannah's cauldron which had turned into an unrecognizable blob. The potion spilled onto the floor and singed everyone's shoes, dousing Hannah in the process. Boils started to appear everywhere on her body as she moaned in pain.
"Dunderhead!" Snape barked, vanishing the spilled potion with a flick of his wand. "Did you add the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
As boils erupted on Hannah's nose, Snape ordered Justin to take her to the hospital wing. Turning to Harry and Susan, who had been working nearby, he accused, "Potter, why didn't you stop her? Hoping she'd make a mistake so you'd look better? That's another 100 points gone for Hufflepuff."
Harry was beyond exasperated. "EXCUSE ME!" he thundered. His eyes pulsed with silver light and his aura flared, the powerful energy of the hunt surging within him. Susan trembled as his aura flooded the room, infecting every student with a paralyzing fear. A corona of silver light, fiery and relentless, surrounded Harry. Snape's eyes widened in shock as Harry stood, his voice dripping with danger.
"Listen, Snape!" Harry began, "I don't care about your status as a teacher. You've shown us nothing today but how to follow a set of instructions on a board. That's not teaching."
"I've only met you once before, and I've never spoken to you until today," Harry continued, his voice icy. "After this sorry excuse for a lesson, I can confirm what my mother's diary said about you. You're a bully and a coward, picking on those you see as weaker."
By now, Snape was shaking, a fear greater than any he'd felt in the presence of the Dark Lord consuming him. Students were scrambling to escape the intensity of Harry's aura. "How is it my fault they messed up when they're seated behind me? You're just looking for someone to blame, and I refuse to be that person. Goodbye,"
As Snape grabbed Harry by the arms, a cold rage shot through him. 'Legilimens,' he muttered as he locked eyes with Harry, delving into his mind. Images and emotions flooded Snape's consciousness as Snape began looking through Harry's memories. What Snape didn't know was Harry was also looking through his memories. Harry forced him out of his head and ran out of the classroom.
The rest of the students quickly gathered their things and scurried out of the classroom, nobody noticed when Daphne ran out of the classroom.
'Mum?' replied Harry 'You know what just happened right now'
'I do Harry, my little moon, Apollo saw it, Jophiel saw it, Ariel saw it, they all told me,' said the moon goddess, 'Your grandmother is angry and will be storming the school later'
Harry nodded slightly, acknowledging his mother's words in his mind. Daphne looked at him with concern, sensing the gravity of the situation.
"Is everything alright?" she asked quietly as they walked down the corridor, away from the Potions classroom.
Harry sighed, his aura calming down but still visibly troubled. "It's my grandmother," he said. "She's furious about what happened with Snape. She's coming to Hogwarts."
Daphne's eyes widened. "Your grandmother? You mean Hera, the Queen of the Gods?"
"She is not my grandmother, she is more like my Aunt," Harry confirmed. "No, I mean Leto, and she is angry,"
Daphne's expression shifted from surprise to apprehension. Her voice held a mix of awe and worry. "This is... serious."
Harry nodded gravely. "Very. Leto isn't known for her patience, especially when it comes to her family. And after what happened with Snape..."
They continued walking in silence, the weight of the situation hanging heavily between them. The halls of Hogwarts, usually filled with the carefree chatter of students, now seemed unusually oppressive.
By evening in the Great Hall, the atmosphere changed. There was a palpable tension in the air, and the students were buzzing with a mixture of excitement and fear. Word had already spread about the confrontation in Potions class, and Harry's stand against Snape had become the talk of the school.
Suddenly, the large doors of the Great Hall burst open. A figure, regal and imposing, stood framed in the doorway. It was Leto, her presence radiating power and authority. Students stepped back, giving her a wide berth as she strode into the hall, her eyes scanning the room. Next to her was an elderly woman dressed like a Libyan Queen of old: her gown swirled with red, black, and gold floral designs, and her long dark hair was crowned with a tiara that looked like a curved miniature ladder - two gold rails lined with rungs of silver. she looked like a benevolent queen, having a mature but stately face, a kind smile, and flashing gold eyes like a feline predator's. Though she had an elder-hippie vibe.
"Grandmother Leto," said Harry, as she hugged Leto,
"Harry I got your memory, Where is Snape" said Leto hugging her back.
The scene in the Great Hall was one of stark contrast: students and teachers alike were frozen in a mix of awe and apprehension, their eyes fixed on the formidable figure of Leto and her companion. Leto's gaze was unwavering, her presence commanding respect and attention.
Harry approached her, feeling a sense of relief mixed with anxiety. "He's the teacher with the greasy hair at the teacher's table," Harry said, her voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of tension.
Leto's eyes narrowed slightly, a flash of anger visible for a moment before she regained her composure.
The elderly woman beside Leto, her aura radiating wisdom and gentle strength, spoke up, her voice melodic yet powerful. "I am Rhea, the mother of your mother's father."
Leto walked straight toward Snape, who was sitting at the teacher's table, trying to maintain his composure despite the obvious fear in his eyes. The rest of the staff, including Dumbledore, watched silently, unsure of how to intervene or even if they should.
"Severus Snape," Leto's voice was calm but carried a sharp edge that resonated through the Great Hall. "You have committed a grave offence. Not only did you attempt to use Legilimency on a student without consent, but you also acted with blatant disrespect and cruelty."
Snape stood up, his usual sneer nowhere to be seen. "I assure you, my intentions were purely educational—"
"Silence!" Rhea's voice boomed, echoing off the walls. Knowing they have to hide the truth of the gods and goddesses she walked towards the teacher's table her cane echoing through the great hall "Your actions were neither educational nor acceptable. You have violated the sacred trust between teacher and student."
"I did not intervene when you called My daughter a Mudblood, years back," began Leto "When in reality my Daughter, who you knew as Lily, is a member of the oldest family in Greece the Olympia family,"
That statement caused many purebloods to look at Leto and Rhea in shock. Not that they knew the truth about the gods but they did know the Olympia family was a family nobody wanted to cross.
"But I now intervene, because you used a powerful Legilimency attack against my grandchild," sneered Leto, Leto's piercing gaze bore into Snape, leaving no room for evasion or deceit. The once-dominant Potions Master seemed to shrink under her scrutiny, his usual confidence nowhere in sight.
Snape, visibly shaken and unable to maintain his usual composure, stuttered for a response. The hall was silent, every student and teacher's eyes were fixed on the unfolding drama.
Leto continued, her voice stern and unwavering. "In addition to your inappropriate behaviour in the classroom, you dared to invade the mind of a student, my grandchild, with such a powerful and invasive technique. This is unacceptable and will not be tolerated."
Rhea, standing beside Leto, added, "We expect teachers to uphold the highest standards of conduct. What you did, Severus is a betrayal of these values."
Dumbledore, who had been silent until now, stood up. "Leto, Rhea, please, let us discuss this matter privately."
"No, Albus," Rhea replied firmly. "You are not liked in Greece, and for good reason, you will simply sweep this under the rug, I want this man arrested or I will be declaring a blood feud by invoking mother magic"
Rhea's declaration sent a ripple of shock through the Great Hall. The concept of a blood feud, especially one invoked by such a powerful figure, was a grave matter. The students, many of whom belonged to old wizarding families, understood the severity of the situation. A blood feud was an ancient and deeply serious magical contract, one that could have far-reaching consequences.
Dumbledore, visibly troubled, nodded solemnly. "Minerva please call the DMLE, Madam Augusta Longbottom for the Hogwarts Board of Education, and Lord Cygnus Greengrass from the Department of Education."
As McGonagall hurriedly left to make the calls, the Great Hall was engulfed in an anxious hush. Students and teachers alike exchanged worried glances, understanding the gravity of the situation unfolding before them.
Snape, now visibly pale, tried to maintain some semblance of dignity, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. Leto and Rhea's presence commanded attention, their displeasure with Snape palpable.
Within minutes, Augusta Longbottom, a stern-looking witch with a vulture hat, entered the hall, accompanied by Lord Cygnus Greengrass, a distinguished wizard with sharp features. Following them was Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE), her face etched with professionalism.
"Explain," Augusta Longbottom demanded, her gaze sweeping across the hall before settling on Dumbledore.
"I have the memory my grandchild sent, me if you want it," said Leto.
Leto's offer was met with immediate interest. Amelia Bones stepped forward, her expression serious but fair. "Please," she said, extending her hand, "the memory will be crucial in understanding the situation fully."
Leto produced a silvery strand of memory, which she placed delicately into Amelia's outstretched hand. The Head of DMLE then motioned for a Pensieve – a magical device used to review memories – to be brought forth. The entire hall watched in silence as the memory was poured into the basin.
The scene played out for all to witness: Snape's harsh questioning, his unprovoked accusations, and the use of Legilimency on Harry. The evidence was undeniable, and the reaction in the Great Hall was a mix of shock and outrage.
Augusta Longbottom turned to Dumbledore, her voice sharp. "Albus, this is a clear violation of student rights and a gross misuse of power. Severus Snape must be held accountable."
Lord Cygnus Greengrass, representing the Department of Education, nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Hogwarts is a place of learning, not fear. Such behaviour from a teacher is unacceptable."
"Will any action, be taken," asked Leto.
Amelia Bones, her expression solemn and resolute, addressed the assembly. "Based on this evidence, Severus Snape will be suspended immediately pending a full investigation. The use of Legilimency against a student without explicit consent is a serious breach of ethical conduct, not to mention the clear prejudice and unprofessional behaviour displayed in the classroom."
Snape's face was a mask of barely contained fury and humiliation, but he remained silent, knowing that any protest would be futile under the intense scrutiny of the assembled crowd.
"I have a second memory from my grandchild, it was when he was able to enter Snape's head it shows why Voldemort targeted my daughter and her family, it also explains why he targeted the Longbottoms as well," said Leto with a serious expression on her face, "I want to share it with you because Dumbledore will simply sweep it under the rug"
The atmosphere in the Great Hall had shifted to one of intense focus as Leto presented the second memory. The key figures – Amelia Bones, Augusta Longbottom, Lord Cygnus Greengrass, and Dumbledore – gathered around the Pensieve once more, their expressions ranging from curiosity to concern.
As the memory unfolded, revealing Snape's perspective and the information about Voldemort's motives and plans, the reactions were immediate and profound. Augusta Longbottom's face turned white as she absorbed the implications of what she saw, especially regarding her own family. Lord Greengrass's expression hardened, his eyes reflecting a mix of anger and calculation. Amelia Bones's demeanor remained professional but her eyes betrayed a deep sense of shock.
Dumbledore, who had been a silent observer until now, showed a rare moment of discomfort. The memory revealed not just Snape's deepest thoughts but also raised questions about Dumbledore's decisions and knowledge of events leading up to the Potters' and Longbottoms' targeting by Voldemort.
"Albus," Augusta Longbottom said sharply, turning to face Dumbledore. "You knew about this? You knew the prophecy and still allowed Lily and James, and my son and daughter-in-law, to be in danger?"
Dumbledore's eyes, usually twinkling, were now sombre. "I did what I thought was best at the time to protect them and the greater wizarding community," he began, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken burdens. "The prophecy was a closely guarded secret—"
"A secret that cost lives," Lord Greengrass interjected coldly. "Lives of young families, of children."
Amelia Bones nee Potter stepped in, her voice authoritative. "This is no longer a matter of the DMLE but a matter of the Wizengamont, as my brother James Potter was the Marquess of Anglesey, and Frank Longbottom was the Earl of Pembroke, Snape you are under arrest, pending trial in front of the Wizengamont."
The arrest of Severus Snape in the Great Hall of Hogwarts was a moment that would be etched into the memory of every student and teacher present. The usual hum of conversation and clatter of dishes was replaced by a hushed, tense silence as Amelia Bones took control of the situation with a practiced ease, her voice clear and authoritative in the cavernous space.
As Snape was led away, his usual sneer replaced by a mask of defeat, a murmur ran through the assembled students. The event was unprecedented, shaking the foundations of what many thought they knew about the sanctity and safety of Hogwarts.
Dumbledore, usually the pillar of wisdom and authority, seemed diminished, his eyes reflecting a deep internal struggle. The revelations about his decisions, and the lives endangered by his actions, had cast a shadow over his long-standing reputation.
Augusta Longbottom, her face a portrait of controlled fury and pain, turned to Dumbledore. "This is far from over, Albus," she said, her voice carrying a promise of further action. "There will be questions, and you will provide answers. I do not care if I have to pour veritaserum down your throat until it is pouring out of your pours,"
The Great Hall fell into a heavy silence as Augusta Longbottom's words echoed off the walls. Dumbledore nodded, a look of resignation on his face. The implications of the day's events were clear: a reckoning was coming, not just for Snape, but possibly for Dumbledore himself.
Harry, standing with Leto and Rhea, felt a mix of relief and apprehension. Relief that justice was being served, but apprehension for what this meant for the future of Hogwarts and the wizarding community.
As the crowd began to disperse, Rhea turned to Harry, her eyes softening. "Harry, you have shown great strength today. It's not easy to stand against injustice, especially in such a public way."
Leto placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "You have the courage of your mother and the wisdom of your father. Remember, you are not alone in this journey. We are always here for you."
Harry nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for their support. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I just want to make sure Hogwarts is a safe place for everyone."
Daphne, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward. "Harry, you've already made a difference. You stood up to Snape, and now everyone knows they can stand up to bullies, no matter who they are."
The conversation was interrupted as Professor McGonagall approached them. "Miss Potter, I must commend you for your bravery today. Hogwarts will be undergoing many changes, and I believe you will play a significant role in shaping its future."
Harry looked at McGonagall, nodding in understanding. "I'll do whatever I can to help," he said.
As the evening drew to a close, Harry, Leto, Rhea, and Daphne left the Great Hall, their steps echoing in the now quiet corridor. The events of the day had set in motion a series of changes that would ripple through Hogwarts and the wizarding world. But for now, Harry felt a sense of peace, knowing that he had stood up for what was right and that he had the support of powerful allies.
As they walked, the torches flickered along the walls, casting a warm glow on their path. Hogwarts, with all its mysteries and challenges, felt like a place where change was possible, where justice could be served, and where Harry could truly belong.
The moon shone brightly through the windows, casting a silvery light that seemed to whisper of new beginnings and uncharted paths ahead. Harry looked up at the night sky, feeling a connection to the celestial sphere, a reminder of his heritage and the endless possibilities that lay before him.
I am going to address a few things, First, why is Harry in Hufflepuff? simply put I want to be different most fanfics put Harry in Gryffindor, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw and completely ignore Hufflepuff despite Hufflepuff's traits being hard work and Loyalty. you rarely see a fic with Harry in Hufflepuff. (consequently, despite Percy being more of Hufflepuff I only came across one fic that put Percy in Hufflepuff)
Next, I absolutely can't stand Multiparings, so stop asking for them, Harry will not be in a multi-pairing simply because I can't stand them, They only worked in history because women had no rights when they were used.
Finally, stop asking for Helios and Selene, Apollo makes it very clear in the Titans Curse they have faded and gave their domains to Artemis and Apollo.
Please read and review I like reading all of your comments and I try to reply to each and every one.