Chapter 15
Winter came and went, and spring began to show in the fields and Forbidden Forest surrounding Hogwarts. Harry spent his weeks continuing to work on his own various projects while keeping up with his studies. As he lay on his bed in the Forgotten Apartment, he couldn't help but reflect on how much had happened in the past few weeks.
His relationship with Blaise, Hermione, and Padma had deepened significantly, especially his relationship with Hermione now that she knew his secret past. They had bonded over countless hours of study sessions and dueling practice. Their recent achievement of placing second in the Transfiguration competition felt like a milestone. It hadn't just been about the academic honor; the experience had given them a sneak peek into the animagus transformation process, a prospect far more intriguing than the dry book on Slytherin genealogy they had won months before in the history challenge.
Harry found that his frustration over not winning first place was tempered by the excitement of exploring something as unique as becoming an animagus. "Can you imagine what it's like to transform into an animal?" Padma had mused during one of their late-night study sessions. Blaise had snorted, but Harry saw the gleam of curiosity in his friend's eyes. Even Hermione had been captivated, her quill scratching furiously as she took notes.
Apart from his academic pursuits, Harry's personal life was taking intriguing turns. His friendship with Luna Lovegood had also grown deeper. The two spent countless hours exploring the castle grounds together, discovering hidden nooks and forgotten history. Harry had even brought Luna to help clean and redecorate the Forgotten Apartment. Together, they had dusted off the cobwebs, rearranged the old, worn furniture, and given life to the age-old room. Luna's whimsical touches brought warmth and brightness to the otherwise somber space.
"Here," she had said one evening, handing him a bunch of fresh wildflowers they had picked from the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. "These will make the apartment feel more like home." Harry had smiled, realizing how much Luna had come to mean to him. But beneath that smile, a knot of uncertainty tightened in his stomach. He had stopped seeing any other girl, to some of their consternations, and his focus on Luna brought new layers of feelings he was unsure how to navigate. Luna's ethereal detachment and unfiltered honesty were unlike anything he had experienced, and while it drew him in, it also left him questioning how to proceed with their blossoming relationship.
She had a way of seeing right through him, making him feel exposed and understood in a way that was both comforting and disconcerting. He found himself lingering on her words, pondering their meaning long after their conversations ended. He reminisced on their late-night strolls through the castle grounds, the way she would point out constellations and regale him with tales of magical creatures. Her soft laughter echoed in his mind, bringing a smile to his lips. But could he risk turning their unique friendship into something more? The thought was both exhilarating and frightening.
He had thought about sharing his past with her, as well, but it did not feel necessary. With Luna, it had never been about his past, only his present and future. He knew that the girl would not care about any label another had put upon him.
Yet, he hesitated at the thought of taking their friendship to the next level. What would that even look like? He feared ruining what they had by pushing too hard or too fast.
In the midst of all these developments, Harry's efforts in wandless magic had borne fruit. He was now able to cast analogs to most beginner-level jinxes and hexes without a wand. It was a skill that demanded intense concentration, but the results were beginning to show. Just that morning, he had successfully cast a weak Confundus Charm wandlessly, a feat that would have seemed impossible months ago.
Moreover, Harry had been feverishly working on perfecting his casting of the fourth-dimensional rune set. Remus had been sending him small crystals that Harry had used for testing and breakthroughs. Harry found these exercises both challenging and rewarding. Learning to imbue the crystals with magic required arithmatic precision, a quality he was cultivating more and more.
Despite the intensity of his personal projects and growing relationships, Harry hadn't neglected his broader ambitions. He had continued to ingratiate himself into the neutral and progressive factions within the wizarding world, carefully making strategic connections. He had revealed nothing about his plan to take his seat on the Wizengamot during the upcoming Spring Break, keeping that particular card close to his chest. Harry knew that his sudden appearance in the political arena would be a shock, and he wanted to ensure he was prepared to handle the aftermath. He would, after all, be the only Lord currently attending school.
Harry stretched, feeling the satisfying ache of a day's hard work, and thought about how far he had come. Despite his realist outlook, Harry couldn't help but hold onto a sliver of hope that things might somehow work out.
Harry woke the next morning with a sense of purpose. Today, he had a scheduled Floo call with Remus to discuss their progress on the runic array. After completing his morning exercises and a quick breakfast, Harry walked over to the fireplace in the forgotten apartment. Taking a handful of Floo powder from the urn on the mantel, he threw it into the fireplace and called out clearly, "Potter Manor!"
"Morning, Harry," Remus greeted him, his grizzled face appearing in the verdant flames. "Ready to break new ground today?"
"You're right, I am," Harry replied with a grin. They both settled down in front of their respective fireplaces. "Thanks for those crystals. They've been game-changers."
"You're welcome. I understand you've made excellent progress," Remus said. "Give me the highlights."
Harry pulled out a few warded crystals. "I've cracked the fourth-dimension inscription barrier. Took some doing, but now the wards hold for over a week. Of course, I've only tried some low power arrays. Having such small wardstones is really putting a crimp on."
Remus's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Harry, that's remarkable. Imagine the implications for both personal security and combat scenarios."
"Exactly," Harry said. "Flexible defenses and offenses on the go. It changes the game. Certainly, something that could give us a leg up if Voldemort does end up returning."
"Related to the problems you're having with the wardstones," Remus said thoughtfully, "I've taken an interest in Muggle materials. Specifically, osmium. The densest stable element. Incredibly heavy but could be the ideal medium for complex wards due to its resistance to wear."
"Osmium, huh?" Harry mused. "Interesting. Never heard of it, but it makes sense."
"I've gone ahead and taken a page from your book on brashness," Remus continued. "I've ordered some, at incredible expense to Sirius' vaults I might add. We'll see how it responds to magical reinforcement when it arrives."
"I'm excited to test it out," Harry said. "Meanwhile, I wanted to show you some work I've done using wardstones from Professor Vector."
Harry laid out a few wardstones on the table and began explaining the enhancements he had made. "Vector's been incredible. She breaks down arithmancy in ways that just click."
"Septima is one of the finest in her field," Remus nodded. "Her insights must have been invaluable."
"Absolutely. She's been a huge help," Harry agreed.
"I've also been discussing powering wards from ambient magic or nearby ley lines with Vector and Babbling, separately of course."
Remus leaned forward, intrigued. "Go on. It is an area of warding that is pretty well understood. I assume you're thinking of not needing to recharge the mobile wards?"
"Exactly," Harry continued. "Professor Babbling, she has been helping me work on a rune configuration that can draw ambient magic and channel it into wards. I've had some promising results, even though it's still in the experimental phase.
Vector has showed me some the arithmancy behind these arrays. I'd suggest we look into ways in which we could modify the equations for the fourth variable and then leverage that progress to figure out how to adjust the runic requirements."
"A compelling notion," Remus said thoughtfully, his fingers steepling. "I suppose the main difficulty would be in defining where the source of the power is, but it could certainly overpower your personal wards in the right location."
"That's what we need to solve," Harry said. "I imagine the key is going to be found around runicly describing a multi-arithmetic equation in which the spell will need to solve for its own power supply."
Remus looked shocked. "You're talking as if we could use magic in the same way a muggle may use a computer. I'm very sure that has never been done before."
"But certainly it must be possible. After all, magic is functionally a power source. If we were able to direct that flow more specifically, and with the right gating mechanism, I'm sure we could get it to do anything muggles use electronics for."
"If you can master this, it would revolutionize our understanding of not only warding, but the vey possibilities of magic."
"I'm planning to run some more tests using different ley line intensities to find a balance. Vector's and Babbling's insights have been crucial, but I think we'll need practical application soon."
"In the meantime, keep refining the runes," Remus suggested thoughtfully. It's a monumental step forward, Harry."
"Thanks, Remus. It's a team effort, but I'm eager to see how far we can take this," Harry said.
After an hour of discussing various applications for the portable wards, the conversation turned to more personal topics.
"So, Harry, about Spring Break..." Remus started.
Harry grew serious. "I'm taking my seat on the Wizengamot. Time for some changes. I've been making connections, but haven't told anyone except you and Sirius."
Remus's eyebrows rose. "A significant step, Harry. Are you prepared for the responsibilities that come with it?"
"I have to be," Harry said firmly. "This world needs a shake-up before someone else does the shaking. I'm ready to make that happen."
The call ended on a note of mutual encouragement and resolve.
Harry Potter strode through the corridors of Hogwarts, an anticipation swirling in his gut. The early morning sun streamed through the castle's grand windows, casting dappled light over the stone walls. Today was the day he would join the Wizengamot.
Soon, he found himself before the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office. A muttered password opened the path. The gargoyle moved aside, revealing the spiral staircase that led up to Albus Dumbledore's sanctum.
Dumbledore's office was as magical as Harry imagined it. Shelves crammed with an assortment of curious artifacts—twinkling, spinning, and occasionally emitting odd noises—lined the walls. A tall, spindly silver instrument puffed gentle white smoke, while an enormous telescope stood by the window. On one shelf, a set of tiny, golden scales clinked as they balanced themselves. By the far wall, Dilys Derwent's portrait caught Harry's eye. She gave him a nod of encouragement.
"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore greeted him warmly, standing behind his cluttered yet majestic wooden desk. "Are you ready for today's endeavor?"
"As ready as I'll ever be, Headmaster," Harry replied, trying to keep his voice steady. Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Very well. Let us venture forth," Dumbledore declared, making his way to the fireplace. With a handful of Floo powder, he called out, "The Ministry of Magic!"
Green flames roared to life, and Dumbledore stepped into them. Harry soon followed, the now-familiar sensation of spinning overwhelming his senses. He stumbled out into the Ministry's grand atrium, dusting off his robes, and saw Dumbledore waiting for him.
Together, they made their way to the Wizengamot readying rooms. The halls were bustling with Ministry employees, each absorbed in the machinations of governance. Harry's heart pounded with each step, excitement and apprehension warring within him.
Inside the readying room, Harry found his formal Wizengamot robes laid out for him. He changed into the deep purple garment, fastening the silver clasps that bore intricate runes of office.
"Are you prepared, Harry?" the Headmaster asked as Harry stepped out of the room and answered in the affirmative. Dumbledore observed him with an approving nod.
Mere minutes later, Dumbledore and Harry entered the grand chamber of the Wizengamot. The atmosphere was charged, filled with the murmurs of witches and wizards awaiting the start of the session. The Chief Warlock's seat was a raised dais, from which Dumbledore would preside over the proceedings.
As Dumbledore took the podium, a hush fell over the assembly. "Good morning, esteemed members of the Wizengamot. Today's session will commence with the seating of a new member, followed by the review of proposed legislation. Finally, we shall discuss the appointment to the position of Head of Magical Law Enforcement."
There was some surprise among the assembled members as Harry entered the Chambers and Dumbledore turned to the young man. "Harry Potter, please step forward and take the oath of office."
Harry stepped up, his palms slightly sweaty, into the view of the assembled Lords and Ladies. He felt the weight of their gaze as each judged him for the first time directly.
"I, Harry James Potter, solemnly swear to uphold the sanctity and responsibility of the Wizengamot office. I pledge to act with integrity and to serve the magical community to the best of my abilities."
A warm, approving murmur rippled through the chamber. Dumbledore smiled and gestured for Harry to begin his introductory speech. Harry removed his prepared parchment and turned to face his new associates.
"Members of the Wizengamot, it is an honor to stand here before you today. My name is Harry James Potter, and though many of you may know me by reputation, I feel it is important to acknowledge a few truths about myself as I take up this new responsibility.
"First and foremost, I understand that my youth is likely a point of concern for some. At seventeen, I am keenly aware that I lack the years of experience that so many of you bring to this esteemed assembly. Additionally, my upbringing was not typical of a wizard in our community. I was raised among Muggles, unaware of my own heritage until the ripe age of sixteen. This unconventional background means that my path to here today has been markedly different from any of yours.
"However, I choose to see these differences as strengths rather than impediments. My outsider perspective may allow me to question norms and offer fresh insights that may not be readily apparent to those who have spent their entire lives ensconced in our traditions. I believe that my experiences grant me a unique ability to view our world from a broader angle, which could be beneficial as we navigate the challenges ahead.
"As I am still a student at Hogwarts, my involvement in the Wizengamot will, of necessity, be limited. I must balance my duties here with my educational commitments. Nonetheless, I am eager to contribute as much as I can. In this capacity, I view myself as a bridge—connecting the fresh perspectives of the younger generation with the wisdom and experience that this body represents.
"I ask you all to join me in thinking about how we can continue to guide the wizarding world towards new goals and heights of excellence while preserving the best parts of our traditions and heritage. Change is often necessary, but it should be undertaken with a respect for the foundations that have brought us to where we are today.
"I would not be here were it not for the support and guidance I have received from so many in our community. I'd like to extend my heartfelt thanks to the shopkeepers of Diagon Alley for helping me understand the basics of our world. To the authors of the numerous books I have read, many of whom are relations to those gathered here today, your words have been invaluable. And of course, to the staff and students at Hogwarts, who have welcomed me and helped me integrate into our world—your support has been transformative.
"This integration is ongoing, and I am deeply grateful for the continued understanding and patience of this community as I grow into my new role. I am also looking forward to the guidance of each of you, my new esteemed colleagues.
"Thank you for your time and for the opportunity to be a part of this august body. I look forward to working alongside each of you to help shape a brighter future for our world."
The session continued after a warm, if hesitant, welcome and Harry took his seat between the progressive and neutral factions, observing the ongoing debate about proposed legislation. He noted the various reactions, some of approval, others of resistance.
Towards the end of the session, a heated debate erupted over two key legislative efforts—one concerning magical creature rights, and the other about the regulation of dark artifacts. Harry listened intently, absorbing the intricate details of the discussions before finding a moment to speak related to the magical creature rights.
"There is one group that I neglected in my opening speech. I would also like to extend my gratitude to the goblins for their assistance. They were the first to reach out to me and re-introduce me to the wizarding world. They have treated me fairly and provided excellent guidance in moments that I have needed it.
"It is clear to me that there are advantages that could be achieved if the great houses represented here were able to coordinate more closely with the goblin nation. The Treaty of Blood and Gold, now over a century old, hinders this cooperation. I propose that we revisit certain aspects of this treaty."
The chamber buzzed with whispers, some voices skeptical, others intrigued. Harry continued, "I understand that this may come as a surprise, and I do not expect immediate consensus. However, I believe it is time to consider how we can work together more effectively for the benefit of all magical beings."
A few moments later, a voice from the gallery called out, "Seconded!" This was soon followed by a third voice in agreement. Nonetheless, Harry knew that this motion would not pass today—it was too much to ask of the Wizards and Witches without proper deliberation. However, his words had been heard, and that was a start. He had upheld his part of the bargain with the goblins and had laid the groundwork for future discussions.
As the session drew to a close, Harry felt a wave of relief and a budding sense of accomplishment wash over him. He had taken his first steps into the world of wizarding politics and, while the path ahead was undoubtedly challenging, he felt ready to face it. He gathered his papers and stood, casting a look around the grand chamber one last time. The faces of the Wizengamot members, some lined with age and wisdom, others alight with curiosity and cautious approval, filled him with a mixture of hope and determination.
As Harry made his way towards the exit, he caught sight of Amelia Bones. Her resignation had ultimately been accepted and her seat in the DMLE filled by Rufus Scrimgeour. Her presence in the chamber remained a force to be reckoned with. He nodded in recognition and Amelia met his gaze, her expression inscrutable. Yet there was a flicker of something, perhaps approval, perhaps caution.
With one final glance towards the chamber, Harry stepped out into the corridor and found Dumbledore.
"Well done, Harry," the Headmaster said softly. "This is just the beginning."
With a grateful smile, Harry nodded. "Thank you, Headmaster. I know there's much more to do, but I'm ready for it."
Harry leaned against the window sill of his dormitory, staring out at the sprawling Hogwarts grounds. The Spring Break had been a crash course in the political power play he was now embroiled in, thanks to his new role in the Wizengamot. His thoughts wandered to the fallout of his Wizengamot seating at Hogwarts, members of each of the three political factions had reached out to him shortly after his return.
Draco Malfoy's approach was still fresh in his memory. The blond wizard had sauntered over with his usual air of entitlement. "Potter," Draco began, his voice dripping with feigned sincerity. "Congratulations on your seating. My father particularly appreciated your acknowledgement that while sometimes change is necessary, it is not always wise to change for changings sake. That perspective aligns pretty well with our own goals, if you don't mind me saying."
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Draco might have the right words for someone enamored with his status as son of the Conservative Party Leader, but Harry was unimpressed. He lit a cigarette, letting the smoke drift lazily towards Draco before replying. Switching to the slang he knew grated on Draco's nerves, he replied, "Cheers, Malfoy, but I reckon I've managed just fine on me own so far. Keep yer nose out, alright?"
Draco's nostrils flared ever so slightly, and he leaned into Harry's personal space before speaking in a smug, quiet voice. "Suit yourself, Potter. Just remember, the political arena is far more treacherous than you might think."
As Draco turned to walk away, Harry freed the pureblooded wizard of a small hard candy wrapped in exquisite paper. He smirked. Draco didn't know it, but he could be generous in his arrogance.
Harry's encounter with Daphne Greengrass and Killian Meaker IV was substantially different. Unlike Draco's forward approach, Daphne's had been characteristically subtle. "Potter," she began with a formal tone that masked her underlying curiosity. "Your recent installment into the Wizengamot has stirred quite a ripple. It was certainly noticed that you sat between us and the Progressives, is that where you find your leanings?"
"I'm naturally a bit of an individualist," Harry replied, weighing his words. "But it can be nice having the backing of friends and colleagues when you have similar goals."
Killian's eyes gleamed with intrigue. "And what of the Treaty of Blood and Gold? You've made it a hot topic."
"Are you very familiar with it?" Harry asked the two. They each responded negatively.
Harry pondered for a moment before responding, "It places substantial limitations on the interactions that goblin society can have with the wizarding world. I'd ask you each to consider how a loosening of some restrictions may benefit you and your families. For example, goblin metals could significantly benefit your family's business, Killian. Enhanced enchanting, more durable products. For the Greengrass imports, the goblin's monopoly on banking could open doors to new financial instruments, international trading possibilities."
Daphne's blue eyes sparkled with interest. "And what of the Potter family, Harry? What's in it for you?"
Harry met her gaze squarely but offered no answer. Some secrets were best kept close to the chest.
The last of the groups to approach had been the progressives. The Potter family, of course, had previously belonged to their quorum. Harry thought back to Lavender Brown's and Neville Longbottom's advances, both seeking his political support. Lavender had approached him first, her usual flirtatious demeanor in full display. "Congratulations, Harry," she had purred, "I'm glad you chose to sit near my grandmother in the progressive faction. It will be nice to have a Potter at the table again."
Harry had politely yet firmly rebuffed her. "I appreciate your family's support for positive changes, Lavender, but economic reforms are also on my mind. The Lords' economic stranglehold over the populace needs addressing. Some of my views might not align perfectly with yours."
Lavender's smile faltered, but she nodded, backing away with a graceful exit. "I understand, Harry. We'll see how things unfold," she remarked with a final glance over her shoulder.
Neville's approach had been markedly different. The Boy-Who-Lived had evidently lost much of his former confidence, an effect of Harry's continual outshining. When Neville finally approached Harry, his voice was tinged with reluctance. "Harry, congratulations," Neville began, almost hesitantly. "I heard from my grandmother that your seating went well. I hope to join you there someday."
Around them, Ron, Ginevra, Dean, and Seamus watched intently. Harry took a deep breath and shot straight. "Neville, one day you will, but you must face the hard truths—you've relied too much on your status and not enough on hard work. Even Lady Longbottom knows that both strength and effort are required for real goals."
Neville's face turned crimson as his friends shifted uncomfortably. Harry continued, his voice steady. "I hope we can be allies one day, and I'm aware of the weight that rests on your shoulders as the child of prophecy, but it's time for a reality check. Start focusing on what really matters or you'll never live up to that burden."
Later that evening, Harry headed to the study group with Blaise, Hermione, and Padma. It was Harry's turn to teach, and although he felt strongly that he should hold some unknown advantages, there was one topic he was interested in sharing to see if it were possible for everyone. He chose to speak about wandless magic.
"Alright," Harry began, addressing the group. "I've embarked on a bit of a pet project over this year, and I wanted to share a bit of my findings with you related to wandless magic."
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Wandless magic? I thought that was near impossible for wizards our age."
Harry nodded. "It's not impossible"
Harry demonstrated, focusing on a quill on the table. With a mere thought, the quill lifted slowly into the air, hovering at eye level before gently floating back down.
"It has taken a lot of practicing to get to this point, and frankly I can't do much more than a basic levitation, but I figure now that I've the one spell down I can work on others."
"Wow," Padma breathed, eyes wide.
Harry told them about his theories related to the differences between wanded magic and wandless. He shared how he had picked up basic occlumency in order to better focus his intention and connection with his magic. He walked them through the steps he used for visualization and clear intent. "Keep your target in mind, visualize it lifting, and channel your will into making that happen."
The three pupils, ever the diligent students, concentrated hard, but the quills remained stubbornly in place.
"It takes practice," Harry assured them. "Don't be discouraged if it doesn't happen right away. The key is persistence. I recommend casting the levitation charm and really focus on how the channeled magic feels at it leaves your body into your wand. This is the feeling you will need to recreate."
As the evening wore on and they finally called it a night, Harry felt a sense of achievement. Sharing part of his progress with his friends not only strengthened their bond but also was a point of personal development. Until now, he had like many wizards before him, essentially kept all his progress close to chest. At some point in the future, Harry hoped to help the wizarding world become more open to knowledge sharing.
The chambers of Lord Townsend's manor buzzed with murmurs of anticipation. The lofted room, adorned with velvet drapes and a grand chandelier, provided an intimate setting for the small but significant gathering. Augusta Longbottom, her poise reflecting years of storied wizarding heritage, stood at the head of the table, poised to speak.
"Thank you all for gathering on such short notice," Augusta began, her voice unwavering. "Firstly, I would like to welcome Amelia Bones."
Amelia Bones, who was normally even-tempered and judicious, found herself feeling a rare twinge of nerves. This was a pivotal moment, both personally and professionally. Her recent confession before the Wizengamot had marked the end of her neutrality and catapulted her into the heart of the Progressive party.
"Thank you, Lady Longbottom," she began, her voice resonating with a quiet strength. "I am honored to be here and ready to serve alongside you all."
Lady Longbottom nodded approvingly. "We all understand the commitment you have made, Lady Bones. Now, let us proceed to the critical issue at hand: strengthening the Auror Corps. We must discuss what measures we can push forward to ensure the safety and security of our world."
There were affirmative nods around the table. Other members of the Progressive party, including the influential and astute Aaron Diggory and the fiercely passionate Elon Bath, leaned in with eager expressions.
"The Auror Corps is our first line of defense," Amelia continued. "And with the threats we face, it's imperative that we bolster their numbers and resources. Rufus Scrimgeour is well aware of these risks. However, it clear that far more resources are needed."
Dumbledore, dressed in his usual resplendent wizardly attire, sat silently observing. His sparkling blue eyes, framed by half-moon spectacles, followed the conversation with keen interest. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured and calm.
"I would like to remind everyone here that the threat of Voldemort is far from extinguished," Dumbledore said, an audible shudder running through the attendees at the mere mention of the Dark Lord's name. "While I have no doubt in Mr. Scrimgeour's abilities, we must prepare for every eventuality."
Lord Diggory adjusted his spectacles, his brow furrowed in thought. "Lady Bones, could you perhaps elaborate on the current status of the DMLE? What specific resources do we lack?"
"Certainly," Amelia responded, her voice resolute. "The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is currently understaffed, and our Aurors are overworked. We need more personnel, advanced training programs, and better equipment—particularly magical artifacts that could provide even a slight edge in battle. Right now, our resources are stretched thin, and it remains a constant struggle to maintain morale."
Elon Bath interjected with fervor, "We cannot allow our finest protectors to be outmatched. We need to push for the allocation of funds and support from the Ministry."
"Precisely," Amelia agreed. "While Scrimgeour is dedicated and capable, even he cannot create something from nothing. We need legislative backing to accomplish what is truly necessary."
Augusta Longbottom's eyes met those of Albus Dumbledore. "Headmaster, do you believe we can align the Wizengamot behind this initiative?"
Dumbledore's voice deepened, taking on a rare authoritative tone. "Certainly it will be difficult, we cannot expect any defections from the Conservatives on this issue, surely. Thus, it falls to the neutrals, as it so often does. Likely Bartemius could be persuaded, potentially Lords Meadowcroft and Cornfoot as well."
Catherine Brown cleared her throat. "What about public support? If we can rally public opinion, it would be an immense help. People are tired of fear."
Lady Longbottom nodded thoughtfully. "I will throw my weight behind the issue, perhaps I shall take the Daily Prophet up on their frequent requests for a meeting."
Amelia took a deep breath. "If I can be of assistance in this, Augusta, you only need to ask. Perhaps we could jointly speak."
Augusta Longbottom nodded, "Of course, I'm sure the press would like to know from your own mouth why it is that you've resigned, and why we need a stronger DMLE. Amelia, your insight will be invaluable in this endeavor."
The meeting drew to a close with a renewed sense of purpose. As the members stood to leave, Albus Dumbledore approached Amelia, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and caution.
"Lady Bones, might I have a word?" Dumbledore's voice was calm, yet it carried an undercurrent of significance.
Amelia turned to face him, curiosity mingled with respect in her gaze. "Of course, Headmaster. What is it you wish to discuss?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. "Your courage today was nothing short of commendable," he said, his tone warm. "The path we now tread is fraught with peril, and it is imperative that we find strength in unity."
Amelia nodded, appreciating the gravity of his words. "I understand, Headmaster. We must leverage every resource and ally we have."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. He took a step closer, lowering his voice just slightly. "There is a gathering of like-minded individuals—some old friends and, perhaps, new allies—who have dedicated themselves to the cause of safeguarding our world against the encroaching darkness."
Amelia's mind raced. She had heard whispers of such a group, one that operated in the shadows to counteract the rise of Voldemort and his followers. Though Dumbledore did not speak its name, she understood his implication.
"The times we face require more than words," Dumbledore continued, his tone solemn. "They require action, and those willing to stand against tyranny. I should like to extend to you an invitation to one of our private gatherings. Your insight and commitment would be invaluable."
Amelia felt a surge of both apprehension and resolve. This was an opportunity to make a real difference, to contribute directly as did her brother and parents. She met Dumbledore's gaze, her voice steady. "I am honored by your invitation, Headmaster and I accept."
Dumbledore's face softened with a gentle smile. "Your bravery is a beacon, Amelia. We meet tomorrow evening at the Hogsmeade Inn. Please join us, and we can discuss our next steps in greater detail."
"I will be there," Amelia confirmed, feeling a renewed sense of purpose swell within her. She had always been a woman of action, her life in politics had tempered that. Perhaps it was time to shift.
The dusty old classroom had become their sanctuary. Sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long beams over the cluttered desks and worn-out textbooks. Harry sat with Hermione, Blaise, and Padma at a large oak table at the center of the room, their study materials spread out before them.
"Alright, what do we have today, Blaise?" Hermione asked, her quill poised over her parchment, ready to take notes.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," the boy answered. He shuffled through his notes, producing a neat stack of parchment. "Today, I want to talk about advanced counter-curses and introduce you to spellweaving. It's an art of combining the wand movements of different spells for smoother and quicker casting."
Padma's eyes gleamed with interest. "Spellweaving sounds fascinating. Can you show us an example?"
Blaise nodded, his demeanor as confident as ever. "Certainly. Let's start with a basic spellweaving chain: tripping jinx, shield breaker, and stunner. The key is to seamlessly transition the wand movement at the end of one spell into the beginning of the next."
He rose from his seat, demonstrating the wand movements slowly. "Begin with the tripping jinx—an upward flick followed by a downward curve. From there, transition into the shield breaker by extending the downward curve into a sharp jab forward. Finish with the stunner, a fluid circular motion from the jab."
The group watched intently, absorbing his instructions. Blaise repeated the sequence, faster this time, the spells flowing effortlessly from one to the next.
"Now you try," Blaise encouraged, stepping back to give them space.
Hermione went first, performing the movements with meticulous precision. "Upward flick, downward curve, jab forward, circular motion," she muttered to herself, her wand producing a soft glow as the spells connected.
Padma followed, her movements graceful and swift. "This feels... almost like a dance," she remarked, a smile spreading across her face.
Harry joined in last, his keen memory and quick reflexes allowing him to pick up the sequence with ease. "This is brilliant, Blaise," he said, genuinely impressed.
Blaise smiled, a rare look of satisfaction crossing his face. "Keep practicing. The more you do, the more natural it will feel."
Hermione's quill scratched furiously across her parchment as she jotted down notes. "We'll need all the practice we can get for the final challenge."
"What's it usually like?" Harry asked curiously.
"It's almost always a seek and utilize challenge involving the Forbidden Forest," Hermione replied, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and trepidation. "It tests multiple disciplines—transfiguration, potions, dueling, survival skills, and, of course, teamwork."
The mention of teamwork made Harry nod thoughtfully. "Why would DADA come into use?"
"Oh, it is almost always competitive," Padma answered, "in that other teams can engage with you to take what you've found, or to claim a searching area." She recounted the previous year's king of the hill style defense challenge for Harry, who looked intrigued.
Blaise nodded in agreement, the confidence in his gaze unmistakable. "I believe we're more prepared than most. Our individual strengths complement each other."
Hermione's eyes met Harry's, the tension that had once existed between them entirely absent now. "We just need to stay focused and I'm sure we will perform well."
Shifting her gaze to Blaise, she asked curiously, "Is wandless magic allowed on the dueling circuit?"
"No rules against it," Blaise responded. He cleared his throat. "I've been practicing the wandless levitation charm and I've seen the tiniest amount of progress. Occlumency has helped a lot," he added.
Hermione looked a bit downcast, "That's not a skill I've picked up. The resources in the library are pretty sparse. Is this one of those things that the noble houses like to hoard?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked at Blaise who answered. "It is. It can be an advantage in studying and of course it is a defense against legillimency. I'd be happy to tutor you and Padma though, Hermione."
"Thanks for the offer, Blaise, but I'm not sure it's a discipline I want to pursue too much," Padma answered. "Wandless magic sounds great, but I'm not sure the juice will be worth the squeeze for me at least."
Hermione, however, accepted the offer and the two made plans to meet up over the next week before moving onto counter-curses.
After their study session wrapped up, Harry decided to track down Luna. He found her near the entrance to the sub-basement area, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Luna, fancy some more exploring?" Harry suggested.
"Always, Harry," Luna replied with a dreamy smile.
They descended the creaking staircase, the air growing cooler and damper with each step. Their easy rapport made the exploration all the more enjoyable, their conversations weaving through various topics in a fluid dance.
"So, how are your friendships shaping up?" Luna asked, her voice gentle and probing. She asked him questions like this occasionally, Harry got the feeling she was worried about him.
Harry shrugged, contemplating his answer. "It's getting much better. I think I can claim Hermione as a real friend now, Blaise and Padma, they're starting to feel that way too. I'm friendly with a bunch of others of course, but it has been a bit difficult for me to be totally genuine with a lot of the political types."
Luna's gaze never wavered from the path ahead, but her smile broadened. "I'm glad to hear you're getting on well with your study partners and I can see why you'd find it difficult to be genuine with people that want something from you."
"Then of course there is you, but you've been an easy friend since the moment we met on the train." Harry chuckled softly. "What about you, Luna? Any new friends, romantic interests?"
A twinkle appeared in Luna's eye, though she remained evasive. "Love is always around us, Harry. We just need to be open to its many forms."
"Well, I've decided to step back from the romantic entanglements for now, myself. Got a lot on the plate as it is. Plus, I'm not really finding the connection with anyone I've tried with."
Luna nodded with a wry smile. Their footsteps echoed as they continued to explore deeper into the sub-basement, discovering unused corridors and old storage rooms where they laughed at each other's dust-inspired sneezing attacks, danced with old dueling mannequins, and continued their easy conversation. Hours later, Harry reflected on the distinct feeling that he had found a true confidant in Luna, someone as unguarded and genuine as he aspired to be.
Once back in the Forgotten Apartment, Harry tossed his bag onto the threadbare carpet and slumped in a chair by the weathered desk. His thoughts turned to the package Remus had sent him earlier in the week—a small, meticulously wrapped box containing pieces of osmium, a rare and dense metal.
Harry marveled at the shaped pieces Remus had crafted. They were sized perfectly for inlaying into necklaces or bracelets, his preferred method of creating personal wards. As he held a piece, in which he had enchanted a defensive ward that drained the power of offensive magics into a shielding spell, he could sense the sheer potential within the mineral.
"Just as effective as Remus believed," he muttered to himself. A similar piece from earlier in the week had absorbed three reductos and two stupefys before the wardstone cracked with the power overload. Considering that the piece had measured just a single centimeter across and that similar sized pieces of copper had only absorbed a single spell, this was a massive improvement. Placing the remaining osmium pieces carefully on the desk, he reached for his wand and began the intricate task of inscribing the wards, the metal responding beautifully to his touch.
As he worked a new ward, one that measured intent and confounded those with ill-will, his mind wandered to his recent attempts at tying the fourth-dimensional warding scheme to the ambient magic of an area. His success thus far had been mediocre at best. He sighed and thought that it would be nice if there were a way to continually keep the wards powered.
Harry's fingers twirled a coin, an old habit whenever he hit a mental block. Ideas began to form, and he wondered about possibility of powering wards with one's own magical core. The possibilities intrigued him, but he couldn't think of a way to describe the powering with runes, especially not in a way that would cut off before it caused magical exhaustion.
Lost in thought, Harry hardly noticed the passage of time. The moonlight filtering through the new colorful, Luna inspired, curtains cast soothing shadows around the apartment. Realizing it was nearly past curfew, Harry struck out from the flat and began his descent to the common room.
Harry slipped through the Hogwarts grounds and beyond the lake to the Whomping Willow. The ancient tree stood tall and menacing, branches swaying with dormant violence, prepared to lash out at any intruder.
Harry's eyes, sharp and weary, scanned the area. He approached cautiously, a long stick—stashed nearby—held firmly in his hand. He knew the Whomping Willow well, had bypassed its fury many times since he began his regular checks for any sign of Peter Pettigrew. Ever since the rat had fled the Weasley house, Harry had found himself drawn here, driven by the possibility of catching the traitor.
He aimed the stick for the knot at the base of the trunk, jabbing precisely. The reaction was instantaneous; the Willow froze, halting its assault. Harry exhaled, and re-stored the stick for future searches. His tension released just enough to let him crouch and make his way into the passage hidden beneath.
The entrance to the tunnel came into view, a dark maw inviting him into its depths. He hesitated only a moment, glancing back at the paralyzed tree. From underneath, the Whomping Willow looked like a giant creature, its colossal branches loomed like skeletal arms stretched to the heavens.
The tunnel was long and largely unused, the air musty, and echoes of Harry's footfalls bouncing off the earthy walls. Cobwebs draped from the low ceiling, and small, skittering sounds suggested life had made a home in the shadows. The passage between the Willow and the Shrieking Shack had seen many clandestine journeys in the days of his parents, though now it bore mostly traces of abandonment.
His wand at the ready, Harry pushed on, inhaling the scent of wet earth and old wood. The end of the tunnel was in sight, the concealed entrance to the Shrieking Shack. He paused once more, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten, before plunging into the dilapidated house.
Emerging from the hidden tunnel, Harry squinted as his eyes adjusted to the faint light filtering through the boarded windows of the Shrieking Shack. Immediately, he noticed things were not exactly as he had left them during his last check. Dust motes danced in disturbed patterns, and the once unbroken cobwebs now had gaps.
Alert and tense, Harry crept from the living room to the sleeping quarters, every sense on high alert. The eerie silence was broken by a sudden violent spell splashing across his protective ward. Reacting instinctively, Harry cast "Protego," deflecting the next two spells aimed at him, the crackling energy dissipating against his shield.
With a brief thought of thanks that he had remembered his ward necklace, he flicked his wand and launched into a spellfire duel, knowing only one person would be hiding here. "Pettigrew!" he called out, his voice harsh with anger.
Pettigrew, shabby and pathetic, emerged from the shadows. His once fleshy face was gaunt, eyes darting with animal's cunning. The man's rat-like demeanor was accentuated by the thin, greasy hair hanging over his eyes and the way his hands trembled, not from fear but from perpetual anxiety. His eyebrows tilted as he quickly recognized who Harry must be.
"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, his spell narrowly missing as Peter ducked with surprising speed.
"Potter," Peter sneered, his voice dripping with spite. The animagus shot a deep purple spell that Harry recognized as a bone-crusher.
Harry sidestepped, and flung the detritus lying about the room at Pettigrew, who screamed in pain and frustration as his body and face were pummeled. The air crackled with magic, spells flying back and forth. Harry allowed a grim smile when he remembered the spellweaving technique Blaise had taught him earlier in the week.
The tripping jinx caught the animagus and the follow-up shield breaker overloaded his protego, but Harry's inexperience with the combination in a duel environment caused a miss of the stupefy as Peter fell to the floor.
Appearing nearly rabid, Peter snarled and transformed into a rat, his beady eyes glinting with desperate malice. Surprisingly agile in his rat form, he dodged Harry's attempts to stun him, scurrying through a small hole in the wall.
Harry cursed under his breath and sprinted into the living room. He pushed against the heavy front door, hearing the faint sounds of rapid footsteps and scrabbling beyond.
A familiar but dreaded sound reached his ears—the telltale report of apparation. By the time Harry had beaten the door open, Peter was gone. The anti-apparition wards of Hogwarts ended nearby.
Harry stood at the entrance of the Shrieking Shack, his heart pounding with a mixture of fury and frustration. Peter Pettigrew had slipped away once more and Harry was not sure he'd be able to forgive his own failure. Furious as he was, Harry knew better than to leave the Shack unchecked. He wasn't sure if it was logical or just hope, but it seemed to him that the rat had slipped away too quickly; there must be something he left behind.
Returning inside, adrenaline still pumping through his veins, he began a thorough search of the dilapidated house, his wand illuminating every dark corner and shadowed crevice.
In the back corner of the living room, a loose floorboard caught his attention. It was slightly lifted, as though it had been shifted recently. With determination, Harry pried it up, revealing a small trove of items hidden beneath. A stash once used by the Marauders for pranks and contraband, it was now repurposed by Pettigrew.
Among the items, Harry found letters, their parchment aged yet obviously handled frequently. He unfurled one, scanning the dark ink.
"It is good to hear from old friends..." one letter began, causing Harry's stomach to churn. As he pored over several more, it became clear that Pettigrew had been corresponding with multiple others who were once deeply involved with the Death Eaters. Although the identity of the correspondents remained elusive, the letters hinted at plans that were sinister and impending.
Harry's hand tightened around a particularly cryptic note: "The final pieces are nearly in place. Soon, we shall usher in a new era."
Fear bubbled within him, yet he forced himself to remain calm. He needed to see what else was hidden here. As he reached down into the hideaway, Harry's fingers brushed against something solid and cool. He pried it out from under the floorboard, and as he pulled out the object, he realized it was a wand. It measured 13.5 inches, it was made of dark, glossy yew wood, and his identification spell indicated it carried a core of phoenix feather.
A chill ran down Harry's spine as he handled the wand. It had an unsettling aura. Harry felt an odd sensation—both a connection and a profound revulsion. His hand tingled where it touched the wood. Bringing it closer to his face, Harry marveled at the craftsmanship, yet the more he held it, the more he sensed a corruption. It was as if the wand was calling to him, reminding him it wanted to be used.
Harry packed the letters and the wand into his bag, knowing that he would need to examine the letters in particular more thoroughly later with Sirius and Remus. His mind raced with the implications of what he had found. Pettigrew's correspondence suggested an active network still working towards Voldemort's aims.
As he replaced the floorboard and took one final glance around the Shack, a resolute determination settled within him.
Harry paced the cozy study of the forgotten apartment, with lingering nervous energy. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin's heads peered out from the fireplace, their expressions grim as Harry detailed his recent encounter with Peter Pettigrew.
"I found these under a loose floorboard in the Shrieking Shack," Harry said, spreading the letters across the desk.
"We need to discuss this face to face," Sirius said abruptly, his eyes meeting Remus's. "This isn't something that can wait."
The werewolf nodded. Their previous testing of having Sirius pop into the apartment hadn't seemed to throw any major alarms and this was a critical conversation.
Seconds later, Sirius and Remus joined Harry at the apartment. The three of them gathered around the desk, the letters spread out before them. The atmosphere was thick with tension as they reviewed the correspondence.
"It appears," Remus began, "that after leaving the Weasley's house Pettigrew began reaching out to previous Death Eaters."
"So much for the Imperius defense," Sirius quipped.
"That's not the worst of it, though," Remus continued. "It seems to me that at least one of these contacts had already been working with another related to bringing back Voldemort. He, or she I suppose, has tasked Peter with something that required his presence here at Hogwarts."
"I doubt he would have taken that assignment lightly," Sirius said. "He was always a bit of a coward and being this close to Dumbledore?"
"I'm not sure we really knew Peter that well, Sirius," Remus said cautiously, "Clearly he had enough in him to stand against all his friends and conspire to their murder and imprisonment."
"Regardless," Sirius's face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "Harry, this is serious. If Pettigrew is coordinating with other Death Eaters, the danger at Hogwarts is even greater. You need to leave. It's too risky."
Harry's gaze hardened. "I can't, Sirius. I need to stay. I have to see through my education for my Wizengamot seat, and I won't be satisfied with just self-study. The NEWTs are not far off. I can be safe until then."
"This isn't just about your education!" Sirius snapped, his voice rising. "It's your safety—your life! Hogwarts has become a target. We can't just ignore that."
Harry's jaw tightened, his green eyes blazing. "I'm not leaving, Sirius. I need the structured learning, the environment where I can actually finish my studies properly. Yes, it's dangerous, but I can manage. We've faced danger before."
Remus stepped in, a calming hand on Sirius's shoulder. "Harry has a point. We can't make decisions based solely on fear. But we also need to be prudent. Perhaps there's a middle ground—additional precautions to ensure his safety without pulling him out entirely."
"What are you thinking?"
"Well, firstly, with the success of the mobile wards, I think it makes sense to ensure that you have several different protections with you at all times." Harry nodded, that made sense.
"Secondly, I think we should seriously consider reaching out to Dumbledore." Sirius started by Remus continued. "I know you don't trust him, Sirius, and for good reason, but the man has stood against Voldemort for decades. The only one that Voldemort ever feared. Surely that's got to mean something."
"I'm not sure I forgive him yet for his role in placing me with the Bartons," Harry spoke, "but he has been helpful at times this year, and, he hasn't pressured me for anything. I suppose I can agree that he should be informed. How should we do that?"
"I'll do it," Remus volunteered. "I know him and he knows me from the Order of the Phoenix days. Also, I'd be surprised if he does not already know of my involvement with you and Sirius given that I was at the Weasley residence along with Sirius when our cover was blown."
Sirius nodded in agreement. "Better you than me. Not sure I'd be quite civil."
Harry nodded his agreement before remembering the wand. "Wait," he said, cutting through the tense silence. "I also found something else in the hidey-hole."
Reaching into his bag, Harry pulled out the wand he had discovered. The moment his fingers touched the dark, glossy yew wood, he felt that strange, almost-connection again—a mix of familiarity and deep revulsion.
Remus and Sirius's reactions were instantaneous and violent. Their faces twisted in astonishment and fear. Sirius's eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step back while Remus's usually calm demeanor faltered.
"Merlin's beard," Sirius whispered, his voice tinged with horror. "That—Harry, that matches the description of Voldemort's wand."
Remus's face went pale. "Yew, thirteen and a half inches," he confirmed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Pettigrew must have saved it from Longbottom Manor the night Neville was made the Boy-Who-Lived and held it all these years in hope it could be returned."
The room was thick with the weight of their realization. Harry stared at the wand, his mind racing. "He kept it hidden all this time?" he wondered aloud. "Why would Pettigrew risk holding onto something so dangerous?"
Sirius, trying to gather his thoughts, drew the borrowed wand Harry had almost stolen nearly two years prior from Ollivanders. His hand shook slightly as he cast an identification spell over the yew wand to confirm its core.
The moment the spell took hold, an unexpected reaction occurred. A bright, golden thread of energy connected the wand in Sirius's hand and the wand Harry held. It sparked violently for a moment before dissipating, leaving all three wizards stunned.
"What was that?" Harry asked, bewildered, looking at the now-silent wands.
Remus's mind was already racing. "I don't know," he admitted, "but I promise to research it immediately. There's something unique about these wands, something we don't yet understand. I'll find out what caused that reaction."
Sirius nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Harry. But in the meantime, we must keep that wand safe. We can take it to be held at Potter Manor, not even Voldemort will have an easy time breaking the wards there."
Harry gave a grim nod. The realization that he held Voldemort's wand anchored them all in the gravity of their situation.
"First thing tomorrow, I'll take this to Dumbledore," Remus said decisively. "He needs to know everything—about Pettigrew, the letters, and this wand."
"Not the wand," Sirius argued. "No one else should know about the wand. The more than know, the more likely it makes its way back to its master in the future."
Harry and Remus nodded their agreement.