Harry groaned softly, feeling his head throbbing as he blinked himself awake. He moved his hand to the side for his glasses, which he always left on his bedside table. When he finally put them onto his face, his vision cleared, revealing the pale, sleeping figure of Pansy Parkinson seated in a chair next to his bed.
Her head was tilted to one side, resting awkwardly on her shoulder. Her dark hair, usually sleek and well-groomed, was a tangled mess. She had a slight frown even while asleep. Harry's brows furrowed, trying to understand what she was doing there.
Then he looked around, finally realizing that he was not in the Slytherin boys' dormitory but in the hospital wing. At the edge of his vision, he saw someone approaching. Madam Poppy Pomfrey walked toward him, her gaze finally landing on him, realizing that he was awake.
"Mr Suzuki," she said while approaching and looking closely at his face. "Good to see you've rejoined the land of the living."
Harry pushed himself upright, wincing at the stiffness in his body. He glanced at Pansy again, her pale face catching his attention once more.
Madam Pomfrey set a glass filled with a greenish potion on the bedside table. "Drink this. Restorative Draught. It'll help."
Harry eyed the potion suspiciously but said nothing. Instead of obeying, Harry picked up the glass but held it idly in his hands. "Why am I here?"
The matron folded her arms. "That's what I'd like to know as well. Miss Parkinson brought you here a few hours ago. She said you'd collapsed after class. You were unconscious, your nose was bleeding heavily, and your clothes were soaked in blood."
Harry looked down at himself for the first time and noticed the dried crimson staining his shirt. His face looked calm as if this wasn't something new or something to worry about. Meanwhile, the matron observed him, likely assessing his reaction.
"I don't remember anything about it," Harry said honestly.
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Miss Parkinson didn't know what happened to you either. I couldn't find a single wound, nor could I detect any curses or hexes that might have caused the bleeding."
Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember, but his mind was frustratingly blank. Then fragments of memory surfaced about him running away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Then he remembered what he did in the class.
'A fifth-tier spell,' he thought, his heart pounding fast. 'But how? That's supposed to be far beyond what I can do. Worse, I used Maximize Magic with it. It's a miracle I'm still alive. My body should've been destroyed from the energy overload.'
Madam Pomfrey's gaze softened. "You should drink that potion now. You'll need your strength."
Before she could press the matter further, Harry glanced at Pansy. "What about her?"
The question caught Madam Pomfrey off guard. "Miss Parkinson? She's fine, as far as I know. Why do you ask?"
"She's been looking paler and paler since school started. Like she's been drained of energy." Harry said, still looking at his housemate.
The matron turned to study Pansy but shook her head. "Likely exhausted from worry. If I remember correctly, she's friends with you and Mr Malfoy." She sighed, clearly not sharing Harry's concern.
Harry frowned. "Could you check on her? Just in case? She doesn't look… right."
The matron sighed but finally nodded. "Very well. I'll prepare a Restorative Draught for her as well. But she'll need to wake up to take it. In the meantime, I'll inform Professor Dumbledore and your head of house that you've woken up. Now rest and no wandering about. And I mean it, Suzuki." She said it in a firm tone before walking out.
Harry nodded and watched as the matron left the two Slytherins alone.
/
Inside the headmaster's office was Albus Dumbledore, who sat at his grand desk. Standing to his right was Madam Pomfrey, who had an expression that reflected her worry. Seated in one of the armchairs before the desk was Professor McGonagall, waiting for the other two guests to arrive.
The door creaked open, and two figures stepped inside. Professor Snape, with his stern look, that could mean that he had a bad day, but he rarely had a good one, and even on those, his face does not change. Behind him was Professor Lupin, who looked tired and worried about something but had a smile on his face nonetheless.
"Ah! Severus, Remus," Dumbledore greeted them and pointed at the other two chairs in front of his desk. "Do sit down."
Lupin chose the chair next to McGonagall, while Snape remained standing behind the other two professors.
"Would anyone want a lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked, lifting a small tin of the candies.
"No, thank you," McGonagall replied curtly.
"Not interested," Snape said, his tone clipped.
Lupin shook his head with a polite smile. Madam Pomfrey simply crossed her arms.
"Ah, well, more for me," Dumbledore murmured, setting the tin back on his desk. His expression turned serious as he folded his hands. "I've called you here to discuss a matter of great importance. It concerns young Harry Suzuki, who is currently resting in the hospital wing."
Snape frowned and turned to see Lupin with an accusatory gaze. Lupin, on the other hand, sat up straighter, concerned by the news.
"What happened to him?" Lupin asked urgently.
Madam Pomfrey sighed. "He was brought to the hospital wing by Miss Parkinson. She claimed she found him lying on the ground, surrounded by blood, just after his Defence Against the Dark Arts class."
Snape's eyes narrowed further as he turned his gaze on Lupin. The suspicion in his look was evident to everyone as if he were searching for an explanation hidden within the Defense professor's face.
Lupin felt Snape's gaze and felt uncomfortable, but before he could say something, he knew it wouldn't help him. Dumbledore raised one hand to Lupin as if he wanted to stop his thoughts. "I trust you, Remus," he said kindly. "But I must ask. What happened during your class?"
Lupin hesitated for a moment but replied. "It was a lesson on Boggarts," he began. "The same one I conducted with the Gryffindors a few days ago. I wanted the students to confront their fears in a controlled environment. Everything was proceeding as expected until Harry's turn."
Snape let out a sharp breath through his nose. "You thought it prudent to subject third-years to such an exercise? They're barely into their second week of term, Lupin. Or do you believe so much in them to think that they were mature enough to face their fears?"
"Severus," Dumbledore interjected, "Let Remus continue."
Lupin shot Snape a cautious glance before resuming. "When Harry stepped forward, I assumed his fear might manifest as Voldemort, given his history."
"Naturally," Snape muttered with a roll of his eyes.
Lupin's voice went quieter. "But it wasn't Voldemort. The Boggart transformed into a skeleton, a tall figure with glowing red eyes." He shook his head when he remembered the image. "Then Harry froze, dropping to his knees slowly. Then the skeleton spoke, though I couldn't hear all of its words. What I did catch was something about Harry not being 'worthy of Nazarick.'"
McGonagall frowned when she heard about the last part. Dumbledore, in contrast, started to think about what it could mean, but then he came back to the present.
"Then what happened?" Dumbledore asked.
"Harry snapped," Lupin said before sighing. "He raised his wand and cast a spell I've never seen before. And it destroyed the Boggart and the cabinet where the Boggart had made his home."
"Can you elaborate on the spell?" the headmaster asked, genuinely curious.
"It was a lightning bolt, but it took the form of a dragon. It struck the Boggart with such force that the creature was destroyed instantly. The spell was so powerful that the whole class was blinded for a moment."
A heavy silence settled over the room. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers clasped together in front of his face.
"A lightning bolt in the form of a dragon," he repeated thoughtfully. "Does this spell sound familiar to anyone?"
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. McGonagall pressed her lips together and shook her head as well. Lupin glanced at Snape, who appeared deep in thought.
Finally, Snape spoke. "It's possible this spell comes from his adoptive family, the Suzukis. With each parent having a different nationality, it is difficult to know where it originates IF the spell was really thought of by one of them."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his gaze shifting as he considered this. "That is a plausible explanation. Still, it raises more questions than it answers."
"Indeed," McGonagall added.
Dumbledore caressed his bear as he considered Lupin's account again. After a moment, he leaned forward to speak again. "This skeleton and the mention of this 'Nazarick' sounds like something we should look into. Does anyone here have any information about it?"
The room remained silent save for the soft rustle of Madam Pomfrey adjusting her robes. Each of the gathered professors exchanged uncertain glances, but it was clear none had answers to offer. Finally, Madam Pomfrey's voice broke the quiet.
"I might have come across something relevant," she said, hesitating. "It was in Gilderoy Lockhart's latest book, 'The 41 Supreme Beings.'"
Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "A Lockhart publication? Spare us the theatrics, Poppy."
Pomfrey narrowed her eyes but stopped herself from replying something about Snape. "For all his embellishments, some of his material is well-researched," she snapped. "The book describes an ancient religion shared across various civilizations, even those that had no contact with each other. In this religion, there is a group called the Supreme Beings. Their leader was said to be a skeletal figure, undead, with glowing red eyes and a magnificent look. Nazarick, according to these texts, is a heavenly place created by these beings, where only their creations are allowed to reside."
The room fell into stunned silence. Even Snape, usually quick to scoff, seemed momentarily taken aback.
"A fascinating account, Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore said softly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Do you recall anything else?"
"Just that the texts described this skeletal leader as both a figure of immense power and profound wisdom," Pomfrey replied. "The civilizations feared and revered him in equal measure."
Snape was the first to recover his voice. "So, the kid's fear comes from a religious idea that he won't be worthy of heaven. It seems far more mundane than what we expected."
Dumbledore's expression softened as he sighed, his disappointment evident. "If it is the case, then we should thank their family for raising him to be someone who aspires to become good enough to be part of their version of heaven." He then nodded at the Potion's Master. "Severus, as Harry is a Slytherin, it falls upon you as Head of House to check on him. Please see to his wellbeing."
Snape's jaw tightened, but he gave a curt nod and swept from the room. The others, sensing that the meeting was over, began to disperse as well, though Dumbledore's voice called one of them.
"Remus, a word, if you please."
Lupin paused mid-step and turned back, closing the door behind him as the last of the others left. Alone now with the Headmaster, Lupin felt a flicker of unease.
"Have you had much opportunity to speak with Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his tone deceptively casual.
Lupin shook his head. "Not yet. I've been meaning to, but the start of term has been… hectic."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "James was a dear friend of yours. I'm sure he would love for you to be closer to him, and I believe that Harry would benefit from your guidance. Perhaps you could make an effort to connect with him?"
"I will," Lupin promised with a smile.
Dumbledore smiled but didn't dismiss him. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his expression growing serious. After a moment, he leaned and took a lemon drop candy before speaking again. "Now that we're completely alone…"
Lupin frowns for a moment. He resisted the urge to glance around, suspecting Snape might have left a spell to eavesdrop, but he said nothing.
"I have news that must remain confidential," Dumbledore began, his voice low. "I trust Severus, but this is a sensitive matter for him."
Lupin nodded, waiting.
"The Ministry has informed me that someone has escaped the law. Someone who may pose a direct threat to Harry."
Lupin's eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore raised a hand to forestall him. "The individual in question is Sirius Black."
Lupin froze in place, his hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white with the force of his suppressed rage. He forced himself to take a steadying breath, his voice a low growl. "Sirius Black… the man who betrayed James and Lily."
Dumbledore's expression remained calm, though his eyes held a trace of sadness. "Yes. The Ministry believes he's seeking Harry."
Lupin's jaw tightened. "If he comes anywhere near him …"
"We must remain vigilant," Dumbledore said gently stopping Remus from saying anything else. "But also cautious, and we should not act rashly."
Lupin's anger didn't abate, but he nodded, his trust in Dumbledore evident. "I understand."
"Good," Dumbledore said. "For now, ensure that Harry feels safe and supported. This news is still kept quiet as the Ministry does not want the population to be in hysteria. It is already too troublesome for Greyback to be free seeking revenge against Harry."
Lupin nodded again and then thought for a moment.
"Maybe we can stop Harry from going to Hogsmeade?" said the professor with some hesitation, but then continued, "I know he may not like it, but if it is for his wellbeing,"
The headmaster laughed a little, "Severus has a similar opinion to yours. But unfortunately, Harry's guardians will not allow it."
"Excuse me?" said Lupin, surprised. "How can they think that it is safe for Harry to be allowed to be out of the security of Hogwarts."
Dumbledore smiled and walked back to his desk and sat. "They feel that the security of Harry's personal maid is good enough."
Lupin shook his head, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore raised his hand, "I would agree with any argument against it, but the maid was, in fact, the one who took care of Greyback when he attacked Harry in Diagon Alley."
Lupin only nodded slowly, "I see."
"Now," said Dumbledore. "I think we need to work to ensure that in Hogwarts, nothing happens."
Lupin gave a short nod while his mind was still thinking in Harry, and he promised himself to protect him for James's sake.
/
Draco Malfoy was sitting on a stone bench, his arm in a cast resting awkwardly on his lap. Beside him, Vincent and Gregory listened attentively, their eyes locked on Draco as if every word he spoke were a pearl of wisdom.
"The trick is to aim for precision, not brute strength," Draco drawled, his tone a mix of boredom and superiority. "The Bludger isn't going to respect you just because you're big. You have to make it do what you want. Anticipate where your opponent will be, not where they are. Got it?"
Crabbe and Goyle nodded vigorously.
"And don't just swing blindly," Draco continued, gesturing with his uninjured hand. "That's amateurish. You've got to watch the entire pitch and understand the flow of the game. It's about control. Well, that, and ensuring the other team Chasers eat Bludger for breakfast." He laughed at his own joke.
Crabbe and Goyle smiled and nodded.
Draco leaned back, enjoying the attention, even if it came from his two dim-witted accomplices.
"And one more thing," Draco added, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "If you see a—" "Malfoy!"
Before he could elaborate further, a voice cut through the air, sharp and unexpected.
Draco turned, startled. Ginny stood close, a broom in her hands. Her hair glowed like fire in the afternoon sun, but her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen as if she'd been crying for hours. She looked around nervously, ensuring no one else was in sight, before stepping closer.
"Weasley?" Draco said, his brow furrowing. "What do you want?"
Ginny didn't respond. Instead, she marched up to him and shoved the broom into his chest. He barely caught it in time, blinking at her in confusion. Crabbe and Goyle exchanged bewildered glances, unsure whether they should intervene.
"What are you doing?" Draco demanded, gripping the broom awkwardly with his good hand. Ginny was already turning to leave, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.
"Hey," he said, annoyed by her interruption. "What's this about?"
Ginny's shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, she didn't move. Then, reluctantly, she turned to face him. Her tear-streaked face was flushed, her lips pressed into a trembling line. Draco's grip on her wrist loosened, but he didn't let her go.
"Oliver," she said in a low voice. "He… he's not having tryouts this year. He says the team is fine the way it is."
Draco stared at her, the words sinking in until he remembered that day when he spent the afternoon with her and Loony. For a moment, he didn't know what to say.
"And?" he asked finally, trying to be casual, but his efforts made him sound sarcastic.
Ginny looked away, her free hand clenching at her side. "And?" she said, her voice breaking.
"AND?" repeated Ginny, now sounding angry. "I wanted to try out. I wanted to…" Her voice then started to fade away as she trailed off.
Draco glanced at the broom resting on his shoulder while his arm with the cast worked as a hook so it wouldn't fall. He wasn't sure what he'd expected her to say. He could only imagine how crushing it must be to be shut out of Quidditch without even having a chance to show how capable you are. For a fleeting moment, he almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
He thrust the broom back at her, pushing it firmly against her chest. Ginny turned her eyes down and saw his hand with the broom touching her breasts.
"Take it," he said curtly. "Tryouts or not. It's yours."
Ginny's eyes widened, a mixture of anger and confusion flashing across her face. "What are you…?"
"Just take it, Weasley," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I gave you the broom, tryouts or not. I already have my own broom, so don't bother me with this."
For a moment, Ginny looked like she might argue. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead, her eyes filled with fresh tears. She scowled at him, her cheeks turning crimson, and snatched the broom from his hand.
"Fine," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. "But don't think this makes us friends, Malfoy."
Draco scoffed. "As if I wanted that."
Without another word, Ginny turned and marched away, clutching the broom tightly. Vincent and Gregory watched her go, their faces blank with confusion.
"Uh… dude," said Vincent in a loud whisper to Gregory, "what just happened?" Goyled only shrugged.
Draco didn't say anything to Crabbe. He sat back down on the bench, his gaze fixed on the spot where Ginny had disappeared until he sighed and turned to see his housemates.
As Ginny made her way back to the castle, she didn't notice the two figures watching her from a distance. Fred and George Weasley stood near the edge of the stairs, their expressions unreadable as they exchanged a glance.
"Did you see that?" Fred asked, his voice low.
George nodded, his brow furrowed. "Yeah. I did."
They watched silently as their little sister disappeared into the castle, the broom clutched tightly in her hands, inside her robes in a poor effort to hide it.
Fred and George exchanged a look of silent agreement, their expressions serious as they trailed behind Ginny from a safe distance.
Ginny glanced over her shoulder now and then, her gaze sharp and searching. Each time she did, Fred and George ducked behind nearby pillars or behind other students who were surprised by it, suppressing their laughter as they dodged her suspicion.
"She's definitely hiding something," Fred whispered.
"Absolutely," George replied. "And I'd bet my best prank supplies it involves a certain blond Slytherin."
Fred smiled, "you think that our little sister grew up from her Harry fanatism?"
"And replace it with a blonde in shining armor," George smirked.
"And shiny hair," completed Fred. George smiled at the joke.
Ginny finally reached the Gryffindor entrance. With one last cautious glance, she hurried inside, clutching the broom even closer. The twins followed her into the common room, but Ginny was already halfway up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
"She's quick," Fred muttered, crossing his arms.
"We'll wait her out," George said with a grin.
The twins found a spot on one of the cozy sofas near the fire and sat down, pretending to casually chat with a few other students. Minutes turned into an hour, but they were patient. Finally, Ginny came down the stairs, her robes noticeably without the broom.
As she made her way toward the exit, Fred and George jumped up, flanking her from either side.
"Ginny!" Fred called, his voice laced with exaggerated cheer.
"Fancy seeing you here," George added.
Ginny groaned, already regretting her decision to leave the dormitory. She tried to walk past them, but Fred blocked her path.
"Out of my way," she said, her tone sharp. She then passed them, but her brothers kept walking to her side.
"Not so fast," Fred said. "We're worried about you, you know."
"Very worried," George chimed in.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Leave me alone."
Fred exchanged a glance with George, and Ginny could see the wheels turning in their heads. "We were just wondering," Fred began, "who you've been hanging out with these days. You know, besides us, of course."
"I've got friends," she replied defensively, crossing her arms. "There's… there's Luna."
"Luna?" George raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You mean the girl who talks to imaginary creatures?"
"Hey!" Ginny protested, her cheeks flushing. "She's just different. And she's nice."
"Right, right," Fred said, nodding as if he were taking notes. "But what about the rest of your year? You know, the girls? The ones who giggle and gossip?"
Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "I don't really fit in with them," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "They're all obsessed with boys and… and I just don't care about that stuff."
"Ah, so you're a rebel!" George exclaimed, feigning shock. "Our little sister, the non-conformist! But seriously, Gin, you can't just hang out with a couple of oddballs. You need a proper group of friends."
"Why?" Ginny shot back, frowning deeply. "Why do I need to fit into your idea of what friends should be? I like who I like!"
Fred ignored her protest. "We've been noticing some things lately. Haven't we, George?"
"Oh, definitely. Things like sneaking around, hiding stuff…" George tapped his chin. "And spending time with interesting company."
Ginny's cheeks flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Fred smirked. "Sure you don't. But we just want to make sure you're not, you know, making friends who might… take advantage of you."
"Right," George said, picking up where Fred left off. "Friends who give you things. Expensive things."
Fred leaned closer. "And expect something in return."
Ginny stopped in her tracks, her fists clenched at her sides. She turned to face her brothers, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel.
"I know what you're trying to say," she hissed. "And you're wrong."
Fred raised an eyebrow. "Are we, though?"
"Men don't give expensive gifts to girls for no reason," George said, crossing his arms.
Ginny's face turned an even deeper shade of red, but before she could respond, a soft, dreamy voice interrupted the tension.
"Expensive is a relative term, you know."
The twins and Ginny turned to see Luna walking towards Ginny, her wide, unblinking eyes fixed on them. She tilted her head slightly and smiled as if she knew something they didn't.
"It depends on the person's income and their location," Luna continued, her voice airy and detached. "Economics is a very difficult subject in which the object is valued in perspective of the desire of the people that are part of a certain group. Just like here, the price of fruit is quite high, but in places where the fruit is native, it can be free. Muggles call it 'the law of supply and demand.' What's expensive for one person might be insignificant for another. It's all about perspective."
Fred and George stared at her, momentarily thrown off by her unexpected appearance and the weird words she just spouted out.
"Well, that was… enlightening," Fred muttered.
"Very," George agreed before turning to see where Ginny was a few seconds ago.
Before Fred or George could recover, Ginny disappeared around the corner together with Luna.
After a while, Ginny stopped and turned to see her friend. "Thanks, Luna," she said quickly.
Luna only shook her head to let her know that it was nothing, but her head tilted one side as she saw something outside the window nearby.
"Is that Hermione's cat talking with a dog?"
