Disclaimer: I'm not the owner of Harry Potter. If I was, he would probably be dumber... but more powerful. Tough choice I guess...
Chiku11: Hey ! I'm so glad to see that you enjoyed the story. It indeed has a french version (it is like 10 chapters ahead). But, to be honest, the french version is soon coming to an end (maybe 3 more chapters, if I do things well). Once that's done, I'll be back to two chapters a week in english. So, if you can wait a little... Anyway, thank you for reading up until here. Take care, and have a great day !
Guest/Ep: Thank you ! Have a good day !
Hank1967: Hey ! You want to see Hadrian ? Well, you might see him sooner than you think ;). Harry got a bit dark yeah, but at least, for now, Draco and Theodore won't be a problem anymore. Well, their parents may be... but that's something else. Anyway, thanks for the review, I truly appreciate it. Take care, and have a great day !
RRSagitta: Hello ! I don't even know why I'm writing this, considering you will never read it. But anyway, I already answered to most things you said, so I let's repeat myself. First, thanks for reviewing, I guess ? For the diary and the Weasleys, he could have broke into their home. However, as I explained, he doesn't want anything to do with the Weasley, so even if this could have been a possibility, he wouldn't have done it himself (he would have sent Sirius or someone else). Then, as I said already again, he doesn't take Voldemort seriously and as his primary threat (I don't say that he is not a important threat. I'm just saying that Hadrian doesn't consider him as it). That's why he isn't doing everything he can to kill him, and prefers travelling to destroy dark wizards around the world. So yeah, even if it's "dumb", and a "waste of time", from his point of view he is like "well, I'll take care of that later. I have more important things to do. Kids, keep a eye on that, wand warn me if there's a problem so I can take care of it". Anyway, thanks for reviewing (but not for the useless comment). If you bothered coming back here to read the answer, take care, and have a good day.
CaskettFan5: Hey ! Well, he is indeed... and at the same time he isn't completely. The question is: is he becoming like his future self, or is he doing his best to become his future self ? What is his true personality in the end ? Anyway, thanks for reading up until there. You'll have some answers to your previous theories today. So, take care, and have a great day !
Anyway, as usual thanks for the reviews. Hope you had a great week, and that you'll like this chapter. Enjoy your reading !
03/15/1995, 21H06, Milan, Italy:
Fortuna Moon had endured a tumultuous month since her discovery in Hadrian's office. Haunted by the secrets buried in that room, she felt entrusted with a crucial mission: to carry on Hadrian's work and unravel the mysteries of the enigmatic list he had left behind.
Determined to leave nothing behind, she meticulously studied the list, patiently deciphering its obscure codes and setting aside the incomplete elements or those requiring further research. Every name, place, and clue was carefully scrutinised, as she searched for the thread that would lead her to the truth.
Once she completed her thorough examination of the office and had a refreshing nap, she called Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, her loyal companions in the search for Hadrian Potter, in order to reveal her findings. The two wizards—Sirius, committed to his role as Harry's godfather, and Remus, always ready to support Fortuna—were taken aback by this unexpected discovery. They hadn't anticipated uncovering such valuable information in the labyrinth of Potter Manor.
A long evening of strategic discussions followed. Sirius, ever the protective godfather, favoured maintaining regular contact with Harry through letters. Remus and Fortuna, on the other hand, divided up the tasks ahead, aware that the journey would be perilous and would require flawless collaboration.
Fortuna, sharp-minded and resolute in action, volunteered to track down Sethom, a dark wizard wanted in Russia and Italy for various crimes. Hadrian's interest in this puzzling target eluded her, but she had faith in his judgement and his extraordinary abilities. Without questioning it, she dove into her investigation with fervour, determined to uncover her mentor's motives and understand Sethom's place in this complex puzzle.
Remus, with his keen intuition and remarkable tenacity, was tasked with finding Siena, the woman's name that appeared on the list. His quest seemed much more challenging, as there were no wanted notices or concrete clues about this mysterious person. However, Fortuna had no doubt about his abilities and determination.
The next day, Fortuna went to the Ministry of Magic to inform Agent Andrews, her usual contact, of her next target. Andrews, a seasoned but sometimes narrow-minded agent, couldn't hide his astonishment. Fortuna, used to confronting formidable enemies and thwarting sinister plots, was now turning her attention to a nearly unknown dark wizard whose misdeeds seemed insignificant. Her choice left him perplexed, even sceptical.
Refusing to elaborate on her motivations and convinced of the importance of her mission, Fortuna secured the authorization for the capture and left the Ministry, leaving Andrews with his doubts. She couldn't afford to waste time justifying her choices or dispelling scepticism. Her priority was to act and follow Hadrian's trail.
Having informed the occupants of Potter Manor of her impending extended absence, Fortuna set off in pursuit of Sethom, using her expertise and proven techniques to gather information. She flew over wild lands on her broom, slipped into dark alleyways, and spent hours eavesdropping on "secret" conversations in bars. Her search led her everywhere—from the snowy plains of Russia to the picturesque canals of Venice—always on the lookout for the slightest clue.
Her hunt lasted an entire month, marked by changes in appearance and multiple identities to throw off any potential traps. She alternated between the roles of a travelling merchant, a fortune teller, and a simple passerby, adapting brilliantly to each environment and situation. All of this went on until one day…
"Bingo…" murmured Fortuna, perched on the roof of an Italian building. After days of patient surveillance, she had finally spotted her target: Sethom, the dark wizard she had been relentlessly tracking.
Since her arrival in Milan, Fortuna had adopted a bold strategy: camping on the city's rooftops, using her mastery of various concealment spells to observe Sethom's movements. This approach had allowed her to witness several Muggle crimes, which she had fortunately been able to stop using her magical powers.
The violence reigning in the city had surprised her. She had always believed that Muggles, with their technological advancements, were now safe. But reality was different. Assaults, thefts, attempted murders… Crime seemed to thrive in Milan's dark alleys, far from the eyes of the authorities.
Fortunately, her nature as a witch granted her strength and protection far superior to even the strongest Muggles. A simple shield or repelling spell easily fended off the attackers, saving innocent lives. But Fortuna couldn't shake off a sense of frustration. She wished she could permanently eradicate the evil plaguing the city, but for now, her role was limited to acting as a shadowy vigilante.
Pushing these thoughts aside, Fortuna focused on the scene unfolding before her. A group of men dressed in black, all wielding wands, gathered in a dark alley. Their presence intrigued Fortuna, who saw this as a promising lead in her search for Sethom.
Using the powers of the cloak Hadrian had left her, Fortuna followed the group from a distance, slipping from shadow to shadow through the city's maze-like streets. After a series of twists and turns in the narrow alleys, the men stopped behind a small café.
Impatience welled up in Fortuna. She wanted to interrogate them directly, but caution forced her to watch. Finally, after an interminable wait, a man appeared, his face unmistakable: Sethom. The dark wizard matched the wanted photo perfectly. Fortuna had finally found her target.
Before her astonished eyes, the group of men and Sethom entered what appeared to be a solid wall, which transformed into a secret door. Determined not to let them escape, Fortuna quickly followed them through the magical passage.
On the other side, she found herself in a strange place, a sort of mirror image of the alley she had just left. The buildings were inverted, the signs appeared to be written backward, and a pale light illuminated the oppressive atmosphere. The air was thick and threatening. Instinctively, Fortuna raised her wand and conjured a powerful protective shield, just in time to deflect a devastating fire blast.
Surveying her surroundings, Fortuna realised she was surrounded. Four wizards, dressed in combat gear similar to hers, had encircled her, their wands aimed at her. A fifth man stood aside, keeping Sethom unconscious at his feet. His aura exuded formidable power, mixed with an unsettling sense of danger. Yet his relaxed demeanour troubled Fortuna, filling her with a sense of unease.
Before she could explain the reason behind her presence, the four other wizards attacked. Caught off guard, Fortuna reacted instinctively. Judging by appearances, she was facing three men, two of whom seemed relatively young, and one woman.
Deciding it was her turn to go on the offensive, she conjured powerful bolts of lightning, sending them in all directions in the form of electric arcs. Her attack caught her opponents off guard, and the woman collapsed to her knees, struck by a powerful shock.
However, to Fortuna's surprise, one of the young wizards stepped back slightly and began casting healing spells in a language she didn't recognize. 'Sounds like Japanese,' she thought, as the burn marks disappeared from the woman, and she started conjuring runes around herself.
Meanwhile, the two remaining wizards launched relentless attacks, casting fire spells and conjuring various dangerous objects. Fortuna, agile and experienced, dodged their attacks and countered with her own offensive spells. The fight intensified, becoming a deadly dance of magic and sharp reflexes.
Seeing that the woman with the runes was preparing a powerful spell, Fortuna decided to neutralise her. She conjured a sharp earth spike and launched it at the young Japanese mage, hoping to distract him and prevent him from healing his comrades. She then saw the tallest wizard in the group run in front of him, conjuring a powerful shield to protect him.
Wasting no time, Fortuna slashed the air with her wand, conjuring two precise bolts of lightning that struck the rune woman and the other young boy head-on. Both were flung backward, crashing into buildings. 'Perfect, only two left!' she thought with satisfaction.
However, before she could resume her attack, the fifth man, the one with the terrifying aura, stood up. In a blindingly fast motion, he was suddenly in front of her, as if he had… teleported. Fortuna hadn't seen the usual marks of someone apparating—he had simply… appeared.
From this close, she could almost feel his aura. It was so strong, so oppressive. And it was tied to an uncommon type of magic: time magic. The only person she had ever seen master this… was Hadrian.
"Now, now, calm down. It's almost like you want to kill them! They're nowhere near your level," said the man, seeming both proud and amused.
His voice was altered, but deep down, Fortuna knew. It was him. The mysterious wizard watching over Sethom, the one whose aura exuded formidable power and strange fascination. The powerful mage stepped back slightly, and she noticed a limp in his stride. His right leg, up to the knee, seemed to be made of wood. Indeed, it was quite rigid.
He observed her closely, scanning every detail of her face, scrutinising her with his piercing gaze. A heavy silence fell over the scene, as if time itself had held its breath. Fortuna, frozen in place, could no longer move. Only the jagged sounds of her breathing and the measured movements of her interlocutor broke the icy atmosphere.
The wizard leaned closer to her, his breath brushing her ear. In a smooth, teasing voice, he whispered the words in a way she knew so well: "It's your bounty, Fortuna. A remarkable job."
In a flash, he vanished, as if he had evaporated into thin air. The other wizards followed suit, leaving Fortuna alone with Sethom, unconscious on the ground.
A wave of doubt washed over her. Had she imagined it all? But a tangible element brought her back to reality: a piece of black cloak lay at her feet, a remnant of one of her defeated opponents.
Ensuring her body obeyed her again and checking that she wasn't injured, she conjured a Portkey, placing it gently on the dark wizard's chest. "Bounty, Fortuna Moon," she said firmly.
In a whirlwind of light, Sethom disappeared, leaving Fortuna staggering on her feet. "Hadrian… Finally…" she murmured, overwhelmed with emotion.
She was convinced: it was him. His aura, his injuries, his attire, his confident attitude, and the way he moved… Everything pointed to Hadrian.
"You better have a good explanation!" she muttered into the void before apparating herself. She needed to inform Remus and Sirius of the information she had uncovered.
04/09/1995, 13H34, Hogwarts, Scotland:
Over the months she had spent with Harry Potter, Daphne Greengrass had discovered an unsuspected side of his personality. A veil had lifted, revealing a darker, wilder Harry, marked by the trials he had endured throughout his short life.
The couple had faced numerous attacks, mostly orchestrated by Slytherin students, but occasionally by Harry's fellow Gryffindors. These enraged him the most and almost split the red-and-gold house in two. On one side, there were those who supported Harry and didn't care about his romantic life. On the other side were those who couldn't accept that he had "gotten so close" to a Slytherin. Why did even his love life need to be such a subject of debate? Harry had no idea, but his patience had long since run out.
So far, all these aggression attempts had failed, thanks to their vigilance and determined response.
However, the second task of the Triwizard Tournament almost sealed Daphne's fate. The morning of the task, when Professor Snape came to fetch her from her bed, she noticed the worrying state of her body. She was gradually weakening, and the symptoms she felt didn't match any illness she knew.
Unable to pinpoint the cause, Daphne decided to keep her ailment to herself and agreed to be placed under the school's headmaster's stasis spell. That spell proved to be providential, as it saved her life. When Harry brought her to the surface of the lake, she instantly understood what was truly happening.
Seeing the face of the boy she loved, she knew that a Slytherin must have poisoned her food. Too confident in her abilities as a witch, she had never considered the possibility of a sly, treacherous attack. She almost felt stupid, forgetting she herself was a Slytherin.
The use of poison—a sneaky, malevolent weapon—was the signature of a cunning and cruel Slytherin, not a Gryffindor. Daphne realised that she had underestimated her enemies. Believing herself doomed, she slowly closed her eyes and accepted her fate, wondering if her father would have been proud of her.
But to her great surprise, she woke up healed in the Hogwarts infirmary. Instinctively, she knew that Harry was behind her miraculous recovery.
A few days later, news broke: Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott had been transferred to Durmstrang. A quick investigation revealed that the two boys, along with a prefect, had been savagely attacked and tortured to the brink of madness. No culprit was identified, and the professors stated that the investigation was still ongoing.
For Daphne, this was irrefutable proof of Harry's involvement. Only he had the skills and knowledge necessary to erase all traces of his presence. And if, as she suspected, the Slytherin boys were responsible for her poisoning, she understood his motivations perfectly.
A part of her was annoyed at the thought of being a damsel in distress, unable to defend herself. But after a conversation with Harry, she admitted that it no longer mattered. He had saved her life, and she would have done the same for him, not hesitating to use equally extreme methods.
Unfortunately, despite what she thought, other students still seemed to believe that she was a weak, defenceless girl. Every time someone approached her, offering to "teach her a lesson," she couldn't help but smirk.
After all, there was a reason none of them had tried to attack her a second time.
As for Harry, he trusted her completely. She knew what to expect now and was far from defenceless with a wand in hand.
Their relationship had been tested many times over the past few months, but it had only grown stronger. Apart from their mutual group of friends, almost all of Hogwarts was against them. The accusatory glances, the whispers behind their backs, the underhanded attempts to sabotage them… They had faced it all together.
But Harry didn't regret a single moment of what he had done for her. Even the countless hours of detention didn't bother him. After all, what were a few hours of cleaning in exchange for an afternoon with the girl he loved?
Once the novelty of their relationship had settled into their routines, they were able to properly resume their respective investigations. Harry had learned that Dumbledore began his interrogations. Nearly all the professors had been questioned, except for Alastor Moody, who had been called away on an urgent Ministry mission.
The old headmaster hadn't communicated whether he had identified the traitor, but he seemed rather worried.
In Harry's opinion, there were only two possibilities. Either Snape had returned to the dark side—explaining why he was becoming even more unpleasant than usual—or Moody was the traitor.
The idea was far-fetched, almost absurd. But Harry couldn't stop thinking about it. Why? He was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and that was all Harry needed to be suspicious. Quirrell had been a vessel for Voldemort's soul, and Lockhart had been a manipulator who played with people's memories to write his books. So the theory that Moody was evil in some way wasn't completely baseless.
While waiting for more information, the young Gryffindor set his research aside and focused on supporting Daphne in hers. They agreed on the course of action and delved into every possible list to find the man with the scar.
Neither Harry nor Daphne had any information about him. However, since Harry had seen him on the night of Alexander's death, he might be able to identify him if he found his face.
That's why, after long hours of debate and reflection, Harry decided to use his connections. He asked Susan Bones, a friend from the Hufflepuff house, if he could ask her aunt for a favour. At the same time, he wrote a letter to Sirius, explaining what he needed.
With the power of the formidable Lord Black behind him, his request carried enough weight, and he was able to obtain… the list of all the Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban during the first decade.
They had already gone through every possible list available in their personal library, as well as at Hogwarts, without success. So, Daphne suggested turning to the Ministry.
And so, despite weeks of going in circles with her investigation, Daphne found herself once again in the same space, at the back of the library. This time, she sat on the couch, her back supported by Harry's chest as their attentive eyes scanned the photos of the convicted criminals one by one. And there were a lot of them! Apparently, Amelia Bones wasn't joking when she said she would give them access to whatever they needed to find Alexander's murderer.
Grim faces, hateful glares, sadistic smiles… Daphne dismissed them all, determined to find the one she sought. But after hours of fruitless searching, exhaustion began to set in.
"We should take a break, Daphne. We've been at it for hours. If we lose focus and miss him… I really don't want to go through all these bloodthirsty psychopaths again," Harry admitted in a raspy voice, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend's waist.
"Speak for yourself, Potter. I'm fine," she retorted weakly, trying to convince him she had more energy than she let on.
But her eyes betrayed her fatigue. They were shadowed, and her gaze had lost its sharpness. Harry knew she was exhausted.
Finally, after a yawn and a few more seconds of staring at the same photo repeatedly, she let the massive book down on her lap and leaned back.
"We have to find him, Harry. I've watched the memory you gave me so many times that his face is burned into my mind. I don't know why, but I know he's in here. I can feel it," she sighed, her long blonde hair cascading down and partially covering her pretty face.
"I know, Daphne, I know. We'll find him, I promise. But whether we know who he is now or tomorrow won't change much in the grand scheme of things, don't you think?" he asked, gently stroking her hair.
"…"
She didn't respond immediately. Harry lowered his head and saw that she had fallen asleep in his arms. "Not tired, huh… yeah, right," he muttered quietly, annoyed by her blatant lie.
He picked up the book and, moving as skillfully as possible to avoid waking her up, tried to close it. However, holding such a heavy book with one hand, even for Harry, was a challenge, and it slammed shut on his hand.
Biting his cheeks to keep from making a sound, he brought the book in front of him and held it open. He then tried to find the page where Daphne had left off. However, just as the book began to close again due to his limited range of motion, he saw something that made him freeze.
"Don't tell me…" he whispered as he flipped back to the very first page of the book—the one where the criminals were sorted alphabetically by their first name instead of their surname—and had to restrain himself from blowing everything around him to pieces.
"All this time… the very first page…" he growled before marking the page and placing the book on the table next to their couch.
A wave of immense frustration washed over him. How could they have been so blind? The answer had been there, right in front of them, the whole time.
Deciding that Daphne deserved some rest, he closed his eyes as well and allowed himself to fall into the arms of sleep, leaving aside the book that held the answer she had been searching for for months.
Despite the exhaustion weighing on his eyelids, his mind refused to calm down. Nagging questions swirled inside his head, demanding answers.
How had a man like Antonin Dolohov, a notorious and feared Death Eater, managed to enter the manor undetected? Let's not forget the goblin protections, Hadrian's formidable strength, and the elves trained in combat and reconnaissance. And why hadn't his uncle, a seasoned soldier, recognized him?
The idea was absurd. There was no way Hadrian Potter hadn't identified Dolohov. Especially if he had joined the man and Alexander in that infamous room that night.
'There's something bigger behind all this,' Harry thought. 'Something far darker and more complex than anything I've imagined so far.'
?/?/?, ?H?, ?, ?:
In the depths of an ancient and cryptic manor nestled in the heart of a dense, misty forest, a vast and austere training room echoed with the sounds of intense activity. Intermittent flashes of light pierced the darkness, revealing three duelists locked in fierce combat.
Léo, a seasoned French duelist, stood with a firm and determined stance, his eagle eyes tracking every movement of his opponents. His reputation as a formidable fighter preceded him, and his skill in offensive duelling was well known.
Facing him were Masayuki and Hery, two promising young wizards from distant lands. Masayuki, barely 17 years old and hailing from the Land of the Rising Sun, was distinguished by his mastery of healing spells and his ability to calmly assess even the most perilous situations. Hery, from Madagascar, was known for his devastating offensive spells and fiery temperament.
As spells flew in all directions, Elena, a young woman with enchanting beauty and a sharp mind, observed the scene from a corner of the room. Her expertise in runes and defensive magic had earned her a respected place in this diverse group of wizards.
Leading this unlikely team was a mysterious man, concealed beneath a dark cloak that revealed nothing but his enigmatic smile. His identity remained a closely guarded secret, but the aura of power and confidence surrounding him was undeniable.
The duel intensified, with spells multiplying at a rapid pace. Léo, relying on his vast experience, managed to anticipate his opponents' attacks and counter them with deadly precision. Masayuki, despite his young age, displayed great resilience, using his healing spells to mend both his own wounds and those of his teammate. Hery unleashed a storm of offensive spells, trying to gain the upper hand over the experienced duelist.
However, brute strength wasn't enough against Léo's strategy and skill. With a fluid motion, he twirled his wand and pointed it skyward, unleashing a powerful sonic wave that momentarily deafened his opponents. Masayuki, muttering an incantation in Japanese, cast a healing spell on himself before preparing to repeat the process on his ally. But to his dismay, he found Hery chained to the ground.
Reacting on instinct, he Apparated behind the Frenchman, who was already raising his wand in his direction. Without hesitation, he cast a devastating explosive spell at Léo's back. The impact propelled the Frenchman forward, giving Masayuki the chance to quickly break the chains binding his ally. Concerned for his teammate's condition, he rushed to his side to administer healing.
However, before he could finish, a new magical blast struck him in the chest, pinning him to the ground as well.
"Not bad, Masayuki! But for heaven's sake, stop turning your back on your opponent while he's still standing. Get up, lad, and heal your partner. We'll resume after the break," the man in the dark cloak said with an amused tone, completely ignoring the smoke still rising from his own back after the previous attack.
Masayuki, regaining his senses and aware of his blunder, stood up and moved towards Hery to heal him, already thinking of tactics for the next round.
Léo, meanwhile, approached the duo standing back. Elena, leaning against the wall a few steps from the man in the cloak, asked the question that had been on everyone's mind: "This Fortuna Moon is incredibly powerful. She crushed us without mercy. Do you know her well?" Elena asked their leader, keeping her question brief.
All eyes turned to the man in the cloak, whose imposing figure dominated the room. His athletic stature and palpable magical aura radiated unwavering confidence. His face, hidden beneath his hood, remained a mystery to them all, fueling the group's curiosity and speculation.
So far, he had kept his identity hidden, preferring to weave his web from the shadows and observe his recruits before revealing himself. This secrecy had sparked heated debates during their recruitment, with some expressing reluctance due to the lack of transparency.
However, after demonstrating the extent of his powers and clearly outlining his expectations, he had successfully convinced them to join his cause. And so, their eclectic group had grown in the shadows, united by a common goal and an enigmatic leader.
"Yes, she's a trusted ally and a good friend of mine. You can count on her if you encounter her during a mission, Elena. Just don't cross wands with her. She's…" He paused dramatically, lifting his head before chuckling. "Electric."
Léo, who had been listening closely, couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh as well, recalling the humiliating defeat they had suffered at the hands of the lightning elemental.
"In that case, boss, why not invite her to join us? We've already got too many guys here anyway!" the Frenchman joked, eager to see this mysterious ally join their ranks.
The cloaked figure turned towards him, and Léo could have sworn the powerful mage smiled before responding:
"She has a crucial role to play. And we have ours. For now, it's best that she remains in the shadows. Once I'm able to reveal my identity to the public… we'll see. Even I can't see that far ahead!" the mysterious man replied, his final words punctuated by an enigmatic laugh.
"She must be a good friend. She even got a combat uniform," noted the Russian, her accent adding a touch of exoticism to her words.
Their leader stepped forward, limping slightly. It was a wound that had marked both his end and his rebirth, the only detail he had ever shared about his past when questioned.
"I gave it to her a long time ago. I'm glad she's putting it to use," he murmured, seeming lost in his memories for a moment.
"When will we know your identity, chief?" Hery chimed in, running over to the older trio. Léo shook his head, exasperated by the Malagasy's recurring question. The Frenchman had no idea how their leader maintained his composure in the face of such persistence.
The leader bent down and placed a finger on the young wizard's forehead. "Soon, Hery, very soon. Be patient. We have to do things the right way. Remember, time takes care of everything," he said with unshakable confidence, as if he was answering the question for the first time.
Hery, disappointed but resigned, stepped back and nodded. "I hope it's really soon, then, boss! Come on, Masayuki! Let's get back to it!" he exclaimed with his usual energy.
Masayuki, still drained from the effort of healing his friend, forced himself to stand with a weary sigh. The fight had been intense, and Hery's injuries had required his full concentration.
"Go ahead, Léo, I'll take the next round," announced the hidden mage in a deep, commanding voice, drawing his wand.
With a simple gesture, a flick of his wand, time seemed to rewind in the room. The destroyed objects were miraculously repaired, the walls rebuilt before their eyes, and the lights resumed their function, dispelling the darkness that had engulfed the training room. A true reversal of time, a stunning demonstration of the power this mysterious man wielded.
Léo, always impressed by his leader's abilities, couldn't help but issue a warning: "Y'know… your obsession with time magic is gonna cost you one day, boss. It'll drive you mad!"
The figure nodded, acknowledging his friend's words. "Don't worry. I know the risks better than anyone," he replied with quiet assurance, giving Léo a friendly pat on the back.
Time, that elusive and fascinating force, held immense power, especially in combat. Who wouldn't dream of stopping time, rewinding it, or predicting the future? But time magic was also dangerous—a double-edged sword capable of breaking even the strongest minds.
All the wizards who had ventured into its depths had emerged broken, unable to distinguish dreams from reality, the present from the past or the future. They saw too much, their human minds overwhelmed by the multitude of timelines opening before them. And little by little, they faded away, consumed by their own madness.
None of the team members knew the full extent of their leader's knowledge in this forbidden field. But the feats he accomplished with his wand spoke for themselves. Was he different, capable of mastering a power that had destroyed so many others? Only time and the events to come would tell.
They had heard of the dark wizard Voldemort, who sought to conquer Death itself. But even if he managed to achieve that unthinkable feat, could he compete with a man capable of bending Time to his will, a force far more fundamental and elusive?
So many unanswered questions and dizzying possibilities lay before them. With his extraordinary powers, their leader might as well be a fantastical being, an anomaly in the magical world. How could a mere human accomplish such feats?
The figure raised his head, staring at the ceiling as if piercing through the veil of time to see beyond the present. "I'm sorry, Fortuna. Soon. I promise. Very soon," he murmured, his voice filled with a dark promise and unshakable determination.
06/24/1995, 20H12, Hogwarts, Scotland
Harry kissed Daphne, who rolled her eyes with an exasperated expression but nonetheless allowed herself to melt into his embrace, eventually returning his kiss with affection.
"If I die tonight, my dearest, know that my heart will have only ever belonged to..." he began dramatically, before she pressed her wand to his forehead.
"Silence, Potter! I don't want to hear any more nonsense. You're coming back, and if you're not, I'll march through the maze myself to drag you out of there. Got it?" she said, her gaze leaving no doubt about her intentions.
"Yes, ma'am!" he replied, unable to suppress the smug grin spreading across his face.
The past two months had been uneventful. Daphne's investigation had stalled, even though they had identified the likely culprit. Without Antonin Dolohov himself, they couldn't move forward. They had decided to prepare a bounty dossier, which they would hand over to Fortuna during the holidays. Harry had absolute confidence in her ability to capture the dark wizard.
Many questions remained unanswered, but for now, there was nothing more they could do. So, they had taken time to reconnect and enjoy the present moment.
As for Harry's investigation, they had finally identified the culprit. Upon his return to Hogwarts, Dumbledore had interrogated Alastor Moody, which had escalated into a duel in the headmaster's office.
The entire school had felt the fury of the old man that day. Alastor Moody was, in fact, Barty Crouch Jr., who had used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate the former Auror.
After discovering the deception that had been in place all year, the headmaster disappeared. He only returned a week later, offering no explanation for his actions, other than saying he felt better. He then summoned Harry and asked to meet him after the third task, as he had a gift for him.
Harry refrained from criticising the old man for his lack of vigilance, fully understanding how much it had affected him. Instead, he thanked Dumbledore for saving Daphne with the stasis spell. Dumbledore simply nodded, quietly adding that he didn't have a tenth of the strength and courage that Harry had. Harry had an idea of what the former Transfiguration professor meant, but he chose to remain silent, accepting the compliment before leaving the office.
Unfortunately, Barty Crouch Jr. had been killed by Dementors before he could be interrogated, on orders from the Minister's Undersecretary.
That woman was beginning to seriously irritate Harry. Every decree she signed was either racist, discriminatory, or purely useless. Whoever she was, she was quickly climbing to the top of his personal blacklist.
"Well, the old man's speech is about to end. I should go. Don't worry, Daph, with the imposter out of the picture, I shouldn't be in danger," he reassured her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "And besides, I've faced death several times now. It's almost like an old friend."
The blonde glared at him, her blue eyes narrowing with anger before she sighed.
"You'd better come back, Harry. I'm waiting for you," she said, before they kissed one last time. The Slytherin then joined her mother in the stands, discreetly casting a warming spell on Harry as she walked away.
Harry waved goodbye one last time to Sirius, who had come to see him, thrilled to reunite with his godfather. The man had arrived with a giant inflatable doll of himself.
"If he didn't exist, someone would have to invent him," Harry laughed, before taking his place at the entrance to the Maze.
He had no idea if he would see anyone again after entering, but he had no regrets. He had trained so hard, given so much. He couldn't have done more.
"If I fall now, then it's my time," he whispered before warming up his shoulders and drawing his wand.
He saw the old headmaster smile at him as he raised his wand. Harry would go first. He was in first place so far.
With a bit of luck, he might return with the cup and celebrate his victory with his girlfriend.
"Three... two... one..." Dumbledore slowed down before the signal for his start echoed, the trumpets continuing to play as he ventured into the darkness.
'It's my turn now!'