Disclaimer: I'm still not the owner of Harry Potter, and I surely don't make any money out of this story
Guest: Thank you ! You want more ? Here's more !
CaskettFan5: Umbridge being much more direct is a consequence of Fudge's situation. After all, in canon, his side was winning. So she could allow herself to be a bit more in the background. However, in the story, with how things are going, she understands that if she wants her side to win, she needs to fight for it. Anyway, I corrected the part for the "grass". Thank you for pointing that out ! Finally, to explain what happened with Fortuna, she didn't stay passive. She used her elemental magic on the Avada Kedavra in order to deflect the spell. Usually, that would deflect it. However, in that case, she underestimated Siena's power, despite what Hadrian said, and was taken by surprise when she saw that the spell wasn't deflected. That's why she didn't dodge.
09/04/1995, 13H19, Paris, France:
Fortuna watched with growing dread as the deadly curse moved inexorably closer to her chest. Why hadn't the attack been deflected? She knew perfectly well that her elemental spells, though powerful, were not enough to completely neutralize an Avada Kedavra. Yet, their impact usually sufficed to alter the trajectory of that cursed spell.
It was how Hadrian had managed to escape certain death so many times. His fiery storms, surrounding him in protective flames, served as both a fierce predator and a steadfast shield.
But this time, it was clear she had underestimated her enemies' power. And she was about to pay the ultimate price. Suddenly, as death loomed mere inches away, time froze. She instantly recognized the unmistakable mark of Hadrian's temporal magic. Yet his presence was impossible. The enchanted barriers that prohibited any apparition in this area were still active, and she could sense no trace of his aura nearby.
"Everything's alright, Fortuna. It's me," came Hadrian's voice, emanating this time from her own attire. She suddenly recalled the bounty hunter's insistence on modifying her equipment, even giving her the ring to communicate.
So that's what those upgrades were for… she thought, a glimmer of hope rekindling within her. Once again, he had managed to save her. When would she ever repay this debt that seemed to grow heavier with every passing moment? At this rate, she would forever owe her benefactor, in this life and the next.
"As you've probably guessed, I infused your equipment with a fraction of my magic. It should allow you to survive a fatal attack. If you're hearing this message, then my plan worked," Hadrian's voice continued.
Fortuna let out a sigh of relief mingled with bitterness. She hated the premonitory visions that tormented her lover. The knowledge that Hadrian suffered constant nightmares filled her with uncontrollable rage. Yet, she had to admit that without those visions, she would already be dead. A part of her longed for them to stop, for Hadrian to finally find peace. But another part of her feared a future where they couldn't foresee tragedies, where calamities like Remus's death would strike again if Hadrian lost this ability.
"Just in case, I've implemented another safety measure, though I hope you won't need it. If this attack unfolded as I predicted, you should now be facing Siena. Be extremely cautious. Her power is immense, and she won't hesitate to use every means to reach me," his disembodied voice concluded, just as time resumed its natural flow.
The deadly curse reversed its course, retreating toward the Sienas before disintegrating in a burst of light. Time regained its dominion over the dark alley.
The younger of the two witches stood frozen for a moment, unable to comprehend the improbable turn of events. Her gaze fell on Fortuna, seeking a rational explanation for this miraculous escape.
"Grrr... Hadrian! If he could pull this off… he's nearby…" growled the elder Siena, her voice simmering with restrained fury.
"No matter, let's withdraw! I need more information about the range of his power," she declared resolutely, grabbing her accomplice and preparing to retreat.
Against all expectations, the younger one resisted, revealing a stronger will than she initially appeared to possess. Fortuna easily recognized the indelible traits of her elder in the younger woman.
"But why? You told me yourself! This kind of magic demands colossal energy. We just need to attack her again and finish her off!"
The experienced witch furrowed her brow. "Do you think I don't already know that? The problem isn't her! It's him, and he's heading this way as we speak!"
"Do you really think I'll let you leave after you tried to take my life?" Fortuna interrupted, unleashing a flurry of spells upon her adversaries.
They managed to parry the assault and counter with deadly precision. The younger witch threw herself into the fray with surprising agility.
Meanwhile, the older Siena hesitated briefly before joining the battle. She couldn't escape alone, no matter the cost. The only viable solution was to eliminate Fortuna Moon and flee before Hadrian arrived.
Not that she feared the time traveller, but she preferred to face him under more favorable circumstances. An open space would allow her to fully exploit the breadth of her powers.
He had already defeated her once despite her numerical advantage. She wouldn't make the same mistake again.
The bounty hunter, spinning with disconcerting grace amidst the magical sparks, concentrated a powerful electric charge that struck the younger witch square in the chest. The impact hurled her backward, crashing her against a wall where she lay motionless.
The remaining Dark Witch intensified her assault, casting spells with astonishing speed. Fortuna quickly found herself on the defensive, forced to block the relentless attacks. The disparity in power was glaring, and without her elemental gift, she would have already fallen.
"You're decades too late if you think you can defeat me today," Siena taunted, managing to land a superficial cut on the bounty hunter with a slicing spell.
Fortuna winced as blood trickled down her side. She ripped a chunk of wall free and used it as an improvised shield, hastily healing her wound.
'How had a witch of such power remained in the shadows for so long? And what connection did she have to Hadrian?' she wondered, wounded and astonished as her fragile magical barrier crumbled under the relentless onslaught. A wave of despair washed over her as she realized the enormity of the threat she faced.
"Don't forget about me, my dear," a voice sneered behind her. Fortuna whirled around, stunned to see the younger Siena, supposedly incapacitated. The potent electric charge, coupled with the wall's collapse, had evidently weakened her, but the malevolent witch was far from defeated. Her eyes gleamed with a cold fury that chilled Fortuna to the bone.
The bounty hunter was forced to retreat, desperately deflecting the relentless attacks raining down from all sides. Each spell dodged was a momentary victory, but she knew her magical reserves were rapidly dwindling. Is this how it ends? she wondered, her heart heavy as she sensed her defeat drawing near.
"No! I will not be defeated so easily!" Fortuna cried out, summoning the last remnants of her strength. With a resolute gesture, she plunged her wand into the ground, unleashing a colossal surge of energy that reverberated throughout the alley.
A deep rumble shook the foundations, heralding the arrival of a cataclysmic storm. Walls cracked, the ground buckled, and the sky darkened into a menacing void streaked with blinding lightning. The fury of the elemental magic erupted, turning the alley into an apocalyptic battlefield. The wind howled, torrential rain poured down, and bolts of lightning struck the ground with ferocious intensity.
The terrified screams of Muggles echoed through the night as Fortuna's wrath engulfed the city.
The two dark witches, caught off guard by the ferocity of the assault, struggled to hold their ground. The wind shoved them back, the rain blinded them, and lightning threatened to strike them at every moment. They fought desperately, but the storm was a force of nature far greater than they could withstand.
Fortuna had spent her life training, striving for perfection. Death didn't frighten her—at least, not before she met Hadrian. Since then, she lived for him, ready to do whatever it took to see him again.
She knew that if this attack failed, her fate would be sealed. She had no escape. By unleashing this storm, she had also signed her own death warrant.
Yet she refused to surrender. Despite her injuries and overwhelming exhaustion, she forced herself to stand. Her body was battered, but her spirit was unyielding. With a weak yet determined gesture, she raised her wand, its tip pointed at her adversaries. Her eyes, blazing with indomitable resolve, locked onto the duo of Sienas.
Her magical core was drained, incapable of sustaining any complex spells. However, her elemental magic, though limited, offered an alternative. Clinging to a sliver of hope, she conjured a powerful electric fog around herself, creating a protective veil against her pursuers. Then, braving the crackling discharges around her, she dove into the tempest she had summoned.
"Already exhausted?" taunted the older Siena, watching Fortuna's chaotic retreat. "In that case…" With a confident flourish, she summoned an infernal creature—a black feline wreathed in dark flames. "Do you recognize this modified Fiendfyre? Quite the improvement, don't you think?" she sneered cruelly.
Fortuna instantly recognized Hadrian's signature spell, twisted and corrupted by Siena. She threw herself to the ground to avoid the creature's razor-sharp claws. The black fire, so powerful and destructive, was a fearsome weapon capable of consuming everything in its path. Its heat radiated outward, searing her skin even through her clothing.
Meanwhile, the younger Siena wasted no time erecting a powerful magical barrier, Atlas, which shielded the two witches from the chaotic storm. The spell gleamed with a celestial light, contrasting sharply with the darkness of the tempest and the infernal flames of the Fiendfyre.
Fortuna quickly realized that her storm, as ferocious as it was, wouldn't be enough to repel the infernal beast. She began to run, desperately searching for refuge beyond the alley. Every step was a struggle—the ground was slippery beneath her feet, and the icy wind lashed her face.
The electric fog around her gradually dissipated, leaving the bounty hunter exposed to her enemies' attacks. The storm, her only ally, began to subside, giving way to a light drizzle. The last raindrops mingled with her tears as they rolled down her face.
"Let's end this! Avada Kedavra!" cried the younger Siena, her voice filled with rage, while her elder, suddenly panicked, turned away.
Fortuna knew that this time, no magical defense would save her. She was out of strength, and the deadly curse hurtling toward her was unavoidable. She closed her eyes, bracing for the end.
And then, the unexpected happened once again. The green light of the curse was deflected by a wall of black flames. Another Fiendfyre, identical to Siena's but infinitely more powerful, appeared, standing between Fortuna and her enemies.
"Siena?" Fortuna murmured, bewildered but relieved.
But when she looked up, it wasn't the dark sorceress she saw—it was Hadrian. He had found her and intervened just in time. His magical aura, immense and reassuring, illuminated the darkness of the alley.
"Harry! What a pleasure to see you again!" the elder Siena exclaimed, a sarcastic smile curling her lips.
Fortuna froze at the name the witch used to address Hadrian. "Harry?" she repeated, completely baffled by the surreal situation.
Thanks to their prolonged battle, both witches had expended much of their strength. It was almost a guaranteed victory for the "Invincible Soldier."
"Siena..." Hadrian growled, his eyes glinting with cold fury. His powerful, destructive magic filled the space, suffocating his adversaries.
His overwhelming anger forced the younger Siena to her knees, trembling. Her eyes, wide with terror, stared at him as if she were gazing upon a demon from the depths of hell.
The elder Siena regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. "How strange," she mused. "On one hand, you seem more powerful than when we last met. On the other, you appear to be suffering just as much as we are… from your own magic."
Suddenly, Hadrian's aura surged, freezing the entire street in a temporal stasis. "I have no idea what you're after, Siena. If it's an analysis of my state, then be my guest. But you crossed the line when you attacked Remus and Fortuna," he thundered.
Without hesitation, he raised his wand, prepared to end the witches' lives.
"You don't actually think you can kill me that easily," the dark sorceress retorted, managing to move slightly despite the temporal stasis, taking him by surprise.
"I should thank you for bringing me back. In doing so, you've given me a second chance," she whispered before lunging at him, throwing him off balance.
Reacting with surprising agility, he threw her aside and rolled to his feet. Drawing a revolver from his belt, he fired six shots at the witch, which she deflected with a shimmering magical shield.
"I've already faced your temporal magic and all your tricks. You won't take me down today, Potter!" she spat.
They exchanged a rapid volley of spells. Siena was hit in the stomach and staggered back, focusing her efforts on weakening Hadrian's prosthetic leg to destabilize him.
Hadrian stood his ground, ready to press the attack. But the immense strain of breaking through the barriers, Apparating to the right place, and freezing time across the alley finally took its toll. He collapsed, the feeling of exhaustion quickly catching up to him.
Taking advantage of the moment, the elder Siena grabbed her younger counterpart, still frozen in time, and cast one last glance at Hadrian.
"Next time, Potter, I'll kill all of you—every single one of your little friends who dares to stand in my way!" she snarled before vanishing in a flash of light.
'I see. By pulling her into the temporal flow, she gained a partial understanding of it. That's why she wasn't fully frozen…' Hadrian deduced as he released the spell that had drained him.
"Fortuna! Are you okay?!" he called out, rushing to the woman he loved.
"I'm fine, thanks to you and your protective enchantments," she replied, clutching his arm as though it were a lifeline.
Noticing Hadrian's extreme fatigue, Fortuna Apparated them to a distant rooftop, preferring to leave the scene before the French Aurors or Muggle police arrived.
"I suppose you have a lot of questions for me… don't you?" Hadrian asked, sighing at the thought of the long explanations ahead.
A brief silence followed as Fortuna reflected.
"Just one… or two actually," she said. "How do you know that woman, and why does she call you Harry?"
Hadrian, his strength slowly returning, raised his wand and pointed it toward the devastated alley in the distance.
"Reparo…" he whispered, as the damaged buildings restored themselves. Unlike a true reversal of time, not everything returned to its exact original state.
Still, the major destruction was repaired, and any traces of his presence were erased.
"Siena…" he began. "She was a woman I hunted before coming here. A powerful dark mage with grand ambitions… The usual story, you might say."
"But she was different from my other targets for one reason."
Fortuna tilted her head, intrigued, and asked what that reason was.
"I didn't kill her. I let her live… And now, I'm paying the price," he admitted.
The blonde bounty hunter understood he wasn't telling her the full truth. It was clear that Siena had been one of his targets. And it was obvious that he hadn't killed her.
However, the presence of an older version of the woman and her use of his nephew's name complicated matters far more.
"I want the truth, Hadrian. Please. I deserve it, don't you think? After all, I'm the one they tried to murder today."
The bounty hunter nodded, biting his lip. He ran his hands through his hair—a nervous habit from his youth—then took Fortuna's hand.
"I'll explain everything," he sighed. "But first, let's go home. I don't want prying ears nearby…"
They vanished without a trace, leaving behind only the memory of a battle without a clear victor.
09/17/1995, 20h34, Hogwarts, Scotland:
Harry and Daphne were in their usual refuge, an abandoned classroom that had been transformed today into a crisis command center.
They were joined by Neville and Hermione for their weekly meeting, dedicated to discussing the state of affairs at Hogwarts and the progress of their training. The tension in the room was palpable, each person keenly aware of the looming threat of a new conflict.
"I received a letter from my uncle a few days ago," Harry announced, his voice heavy with emotion.
Daphne squeezed his hand, already aware of the letter's contents, but she remained silent, her gaze fixed on him.
"What did it say?" Neville asked, concerned. Few messages could shake his best friend like this. If Harry was so visibly troubled, it meant something truly devastating had occurred.
"Aunt Fortuna was attacked, but she survived. Apparently, the two powerful witches responsible for the attack are still at large," he explained, taking a deep breath. He silently thanked his friends and his girlfriend for not interrupting him, knowing that the news he was about to deliver would deeply upset them.
"These witches are extremely dangerous. They likely won't target Hogwarts, especially with Dumbledore in charge, but I need you all to be extra cautious. I know you're already careful, but be even more vigilant when heading to Hogsmeade."
He lowered his gaze, unsuccessfully trying to hide the tear sliding down his cheek. His face bore the pain of loss, mingled with anger and sorrow.
"They... they managed to kill Remus Lupin. One of my father's best friends..." he managed to say, his voice breaking.
Daphne wrapped an arm around him, attempting to console him, though words failed her. It was the first time Harry had experienced the death of someone so close.
Indeed, with his uncle and Alexander Greengrass surviving, Remus was the first of his loved ones to join his parents in the grave.
'And the last, I hope', he thought, clenching his fists in frustration.
"Professor Lupin is dead?" Hermione stammered, covering her mouth with her hands in shock. She had always admired Professor Lupin. His kindness and wisdom had set him apart from other teachers.
He did teach here while I was away, Harry recalled, wiping his tear-streaked face.
Neville pulled Hermione into an embrace as the young Gryffindor began to sob. "He was the only... the only good Defense professor... It's so unfair!" she cried.
The statement drew a faint smile from Harry. Part of him was comforted to see that Remus had left such an impression.
After all, the werewolf's life had been plagued by self-doubt stemming from his condition. Without that burden, he might have intervened earlier in Harry's life—perhaps prevented the Dursleys' cruelty or sought Sirius out in Azkaban to uncover the truth sooner.
Who could say how things might have turned out?
Hermione's reaction, however, was proof of the indelible mark Remus had left, even beyond the Potter family's circle. For that, Harry felt a certain pride. Remus had touched others' hearts, despite his lycanthropy.
As time passed, Hermione's tears eventually dried. For Harry, the initial shock had faded; he had already begun to grieve for Remus. What troubled him now was the idea of the man's permanent absence from his life.
Permanent absence? echoed a familiar voice in his mind.
The ring on his finger trembled slightly. More precisely, the stone it housed began to vibrate, as though it were sending a signal.
The Resurrection Stone, he recalled, withdrawing his hand from Daphne's and placing it over the gem. Instinctively, he turned the stone counterclockwise.
The first time, nothing happened. Nor the second. But on the third attempt, as he focused all his energy on Remus, the ghostly image of the man appeared.
"Remus?" "Professor Lupin?" the group exclaimed, profoundly shaken.
"Harry? Is that you doing this?" the former professor asked, his face etched with pain.
Harry understood that this summoning was taxing on the soul.
"Y-Yes… Remus… I'm so…" Harry began, but the man interrupted him.
"It's me who should apologize, Harry. Once again, I've left you..." he admitted, his head bowed, guilt weighing heavily on him.
"Remus… Don't blame yourself. I forgave you a long time ago," Harry reassured him. "Besides, I doubt you wanted to die. It's not your fault, Moony."
A faint smile lit up the man's face. "Thank you, Harry. I hope you'll hold onto the good memories of the times we shared."
Hermione, emerging from her stunned silence, asked in a shaky voice, "Harry… How long have you been able to do this?"
"It's... a long story, Hermione. And right now, I'd rather not talk about it," he replied firmly, leaving no room for debate.
Hermione frowned, dissatisfied with his evasive answer, but chose not to press the issue—for now.
"Professor... What happened?" she asked, her curiosity mirrored by Neville.
"I was tasked with locating a witch named Siena. My search quickly hit a wall, a complete silence. But then I began to uncover faint clues, scattered breadcrumbs that led me to pieces of truth. There were too many to be coincidences, yet too precise to come from one person. I eventually traced her to Italy, where I encountered not one but two Sienas—identical in appearance, yet with distinct magical auras."
Neville frowned, mimicking Harry's expression. "How can there be two Sienas?" he asked, clearly unsettled by this revelation, which defied all magical logic.
"An excellent question. Unfortunately, I don't have a rational explanation for it. That's where things became murky, shrouded in shadows I couldn't penetrate."
He turned to Harry, his expression grave. "However, before I was discovered, I overheard a conversation about Hadrian. The words were spoken softly, but they resonated in a way I couldn't ignore. They allowed me to form a theory—a somewhat fanciful one, admittedly—but one that might explain many of the mysteries we've faced."
Harry shot to his feet, impatience overcoming him. "What are you talking about, Remus? Explain your theory."
The former professor shook his head, hesitating briefly. "It's not my place to tell you, Harry. But I urge you to be extremely cautious about your uncle. I don't believe he's a bad man—far from it. But he's hiding many things, secrets with grave consequences. And if my theory is correct, it would not only explain the existence of these two Sienas but also the strange events of recent months."
Hermione, frustrated at being left in the dark, attempted to interject, but Harry spoke first, his insatiable curiosity driving him forward.
"Remus… Does this have something to do with his temporal powers? The time manipulations he's capable of?" Harry asked, his eyes gleaming as theories began to take shape in his mind.
The older wizard responded with a slight nod, letting the mystery linger.
"Harry, as much as I regret leaving you, I must return to where I belong," Remus said, his voice laden with emotion.
"You're right, I'm sorry, Remus… May I ask a favor? Please, take care of Mum and Dad for me," Harry requested, his voice tinged with sorrow. After this plea, he turned the stone counterclockwise three times.
Remus nodded, his form beginning to dissolve, leaving behind a faint, ghostly glow.
"Harry, you're an exceptional young man. When all of this is over, live your life to the fullest. At your age, you shouldn't have had to endure such trials. So, for me, and for all those waiting for you on the other side… Be happy."
Harry nodded, a fresh tear trailing down his cheek. Daphne stepped forward and embraced him, soon joined by Hermione and Neville.
They shared a collective embrace, grateful for the bond that had brought them together, aware that their fates were now inextricably tied to Harry's.
Indeed, without Harry, Daphne might have faced a far darker fate, shackled to an arranged marriage with Theodore Nott. Her sister too would likely still be bound to Draco Malfoy.
As for Neville, he might have remained trapped in his shyness, navigating life alone in the shadows. Without Hermione, he wouldn't have had the courage to flourish, nor the confidence to pursue meaningful relationships.
Hermione herself couldn't imagine a life without Harry and Neville's friendship. Thanks to them—Harry in particular—she had broken free from isolation, built genuine connections, and grown into a more confident witch, escaping what could have been a sterile, lonely existence.
Harry, had he been left to himself, might have succumbed to the darkness, obsessed with power, a puppet at Death's command.
Each of them owed Harry a debt of gratitude, yet Harry felt just as indebted to each of them.
After a long silence, they loosened their embrace, giving Harry the space he needed to reflect.
"Have you ever tried summoning your parents with that power?" Neville asked, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Harry shook his head. "No. I'm afraid that if I called them back, I wouldn't be able to send them back to the beyond. And as you can imagine, it would cause them unbearable suffering," he explained, his gaze distant.
In truth, he didn't feel a pressing need to see them again. Their memory was vivid within him, especially since he'd had the chance to meet them in the afterlife and share a few precious moments. Moreover, he had found a new family: Sirius, Hadrian, Daphne, and, of course, Hermione and Neville.
He was no longer alone. So why dwell on the past?
Neville nodded, understanding Harry's feelings perfectly. He knew from experience that an absence was less painful than seeing a loved one suffer endlessly.
"Phew!" Hermione exhaled, sinking into a chair. "With all this going on, we haven't even talked about Umbridge's classes," she said, trying to lighten the mood.
Seizing the opportunity to change the subject, Daphne chimed in:
"That's true! I think we can all agree she's managed to outdo every Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we've had—in terms of incompetence and cruelty."
Neville nodded emphatically. "She's unworthy of the title of professor. All she does is assign tedious reading and then badger us with questions. There's no teaching in any of it," he said, his indignation evident.
"I had my doubts about her intentions from the start, and they've only been confirmed over time. I think it's time we put your plan into action, Hermione," Harry declared, recalling his friend's bold suggestion.
Hermione had indeed proposed an ambitious idea: to create a vast resistance network within the school—a group of willing students ready to learn how to defend themselves. And who better to lead the initiative than Harry, whose prowess was well-known?
"You're by far the most skilled student in the school when it comes to Defense," Hermione had insisted, her conviction unwavering. Harry had been forced to admit she was right. After all, he had faced Voldemort himself. Few adults could claim such an accomplishment, let alone students.
To test their potential, they had staged a mock lesson. Harry had chosen a complex spell and taught it to his three friends, who proved to be particularly quick learners.
"You've got a real talent for teaching, Harry! I'm sure with you, we can easily make up for Umbridge's incompetence," Hermione had assured him, her eyes sparkling with hope.
Although hesitant at first, Harry couldn't refuse the idea. Not only was he the most qualified to take on the role, but he also recognized the urgency of the situation. Many students' families had already faced Death Eater attacks, and Hadrian's group, though active, couldn't be everywhere at once.
"I'll do it," he declared firmly. "We just need to find a secure location for our training sessions and come up with a strategy to counter Umbridge's Veritaserum."
Neville nodded. "Distributing antidotes to everyone would be risky. That woman has no scruples. Without the potion you gave me, she would've forced me to reveal all my family's secrets—including those about you."
Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "She asks questions about me?"
"About the Potter family, to be precise," Hermione clarified. "I've questioned other students who've been subjected to her interrogations, and they've all confirmed she's very interested in your uncle and you."
"I see now why Uncle Hadrian gave me this mission," Harry murmured. "He anticipated we'd be targeted."
"Mission?" Daphne asked, surprised.
"My uncle tasked me with gathering evidence to bring Umbridge down," he explained, choosing not to disclose the full scope of his mission.
Daphne gave him a steady look, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips.
"I see. Wouldn't this be a good time to restructure our group?" she suggested, "and expand it?"
Harry thought for a moment, then nodded. "Great idea. We'll need all the skills we can muster."
"Taking back the reins of our little team, then?" she asked, stepping closer to him.
"Exactly," he replied, a smile spreading across his face.
Daphne leaned in and kissed him tenderly, a moment interrupted by Neville and Hermione's awkward throat-clearing.
"Oh, come on, don't be shy! You act like you've never kissed each other," Daphne teased, laughing.
Harry chuckled as well before regaining his composure. "Alright, now let's focus on our mission. We have a lot of work ahead of us."
10/02/1995, 22h53, Potter Manor, England:
"Bloody hell!" Hadrian roared, hurling his glass against the wall. The crystal shattered into a thousand fragments, scattering a cloud of glittering dust.
"Reparo," he muttered hoarsely, slumping heavily into his chair.
There was no turning back now. Ever since he had returned to the manor with Fortuna, he had immersed himself entirely in his past, meticulously piecing together every fragment that might help illuminate his story for the inquisitive woman. Buried memories, scattered notes—everything had been scrutinized with care.
And tomorrow, he would lay bare the truth to Fortuna. The thought chilled him to the core.
What if she rejected him? What if she couldn't accept the tangled complexity of his identity? He couldn't bear the thought.
"Who am I, really?" he asked aloud, despair creeping into his voice. "I'm no longer Harry Potter. That name belongs to someone else. And I'm not Hadrian Potter either… I invented that name."
He slammed his fist onto the desk, frustration bubbling over. "So who the hell am I?"
The question had haunted him for weeks. The more time passed, the more his true self seemed to slip away, buried under the layers of identities he had created.
The reappearance of Siena and the impending revelation to Fortuna had forced him to confront the depths of his past.
Exhausted, he drew a deep breath.
"I can't run anymore. No matter the cost. I'm so close to my goal," he murmured, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.
"Weakened or not, I will prevail," he growled, recalling Siena's ominous words. "Whether it's Voldemort, Siena, or even Death itself… I'll destroy them all!"
He grabbed his wand, inspecting it carefully, before placing it back into its holster. "After all, it's in their final moments that stars shine their brightest."