- DIES UNUS -

11:10am- September 4th, 1976 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2

The flicker of candlelight danced across the walls of Harry's office, the shadows stretching like long fingers over the bookshelves and stone. Harry sat at his desk, his posture unusually rigid, green eyes fixed on the parchment laid before him. Written in bold, clear handwriting were names. Some familiar, others foreign. The ink had barely dried, but the list felt like a weight pressing on his chest.

The Ancient One. Charles Xavier and his mutants. Bruce Wayne/Batman and Robin. Clark Kent/Superman. Diana Prince/Wonder Woman. The Flash. Green Lantern. Tony Stark/Iron Man. His gaze shifted down to the second half of the list, where groups were scrawled in hurried strokes: The International Coalition of Wizards (ICW). SHIELD. Also included were various Ministries of Magic across the globe.

These names weren't just a list. They were his strategy. A lifeline. Harry leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the surface of the desk. The Codex Infernum sat nearby, its cover pulsating faintly as though alive. Harry didn't dare look at it directly. The whispers had grown louder and more insidious since he'd begun preparing for the arrival of the Domus Mortis.

These names mean nothing. The Codex hissed softly, the words curling around his mind like smoke. You cling to false hope. They will not stand with you. They will not survive.

Harry's jaw tightened. He dragged a hand through his hair, forcing the whispers away as best he could. "They'll stand if I make them see," he muttered under his breath.

And when they fail? the Codex murmured. Will you watch them burn? Will you watch this world fall as the others have?

"No," Harry said sharply, his voice reverberating in the empty office. He grabbed his wand, sending a pulse of magic through the room that snuffed the whispers into silence. If only for a moment. Before the Codex could stir again, a knock echoed against the heavy wooden door, startling him slightly. Harry exhaled and rubbed his eyes before calling out, "Enter,"

The door creaked open, and Peter Pettigrew peeked in, looking anxious as ever. His small frame hovered in the doorway, one hand clutching his wand tightly. Behind him, Marlene McKinnon stepped forward, her blonde hair tied back neatly, her expression far more confident than Peter's. "Er...good evening, Professor," Peter said timidly.

"Come in," Harry said, his voice steady once more. As Peter and Marlene entered, he noticed a third figure slipping in behind them.

Lily Evans.

Harry blinked, momentarily surprised. Lily wasn't on the list for tonight's tutoring session. She didn't need it. Her skills were more advanced than most in her year, and she knew it. Yet here she was, her expression unreadable as she walked in with the other two.

"Miss Evans?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting you,"

Lily offered a polite shrug as she set her bag down near one of the desks. "I thought I'd help. Peter and Marlene mentioned the session earlier. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, aren't they?"

Harry regarded her for a moment. There was something in her tone. Neutral, composed, but determined. He nodded once. "Fair enough. Take a seat. Let's get started,"

The room was silent save for the faint crackle of the fire as Harry surveyed his three students. He could sense Peter's nervous energy radiating from across the desk, while Marlene sat poised, ready for instruction. Lily lingered slightly apart, her wand already in hand, her sharp green eyes flicking between Harry and the others.

Harry rose from his seat, pacing to the center of the room where a practice dummy stood waiting. He flicked his wand, and the dummy twitched to life, its surface glowing faintly with magical wards. "Tonight..." Harry began. "...we're going to focus on spell precision and power. Defensive and offensive casting. Basic principles, but ones you must master if you hope to hold your ground in any real confrontation,"

He turned to Peter. "Mr. Pettigrew, your biggest issue is hesitation. You're doubting yourself before you even move. Magic responds to confidence. Without it, your spells lack force. We're going to break that habit tonight," Peter swallowed hard and nodded quickly.

"Ms. McKinnon -" Harry continued. "- your spell work is clean, but you're too predictable. A predictable duellist is a vulnerable one. We'll focus on diversifying your arsenal,"

Marlene smiled faintly. "Understood, Professor,"

"And Ms. Evans," Harry said, his gaze shifting to her. "You're not here to learn, are you?"

"I'm here to help," Lily said simply, meeting his eyes with unwavering calm.

Harry gave a small, approving nod. "Then help them you shall,"

He gestured to Peter first. "We'll start with basic Shield Charms. I want you to block spells as I cast them. Quickly and efficiently. Ms. McKinnon, you'll assist Mr. Pettigrew in refining his form while Lily and I work together to demonstrate,"

Peter visibly paled. "W-what kind of spells are you going to cast at me?"

Harry's mouth twitched. "Simple ones, Mr. Pettigrew. For now,"

The next thirty minutes were filled with controlled chaos. Peter's shields flickered weakly at first, his hesitation and self-doubt holding him back. Harry's spells, softened jinxes and harmless stunners, broke through more often than not, forcing Peter to scramble repeatedly.

"Focus!" Harry barked after another failed attempt. "Your wand is an extension of your will. Stop second-guessing yourself!"

"Come on, Peter," Marlene added, her voice kinder but firm. "You're improving. You've got this," She demonstrated the shield charm herself, her wand flicking in a graceful arc. A bright, solid Protego shield shimmered into existence before her. "It's about conviction. Just...know you're going to block it," Peter wiped sweat from his brow and tried again, his jaw tightening. This time, when Harry cast a stinging hex, Peter's shield flared brighter. The spell ricocheted harmlessly into the wall.

"There!" Harry said, a faint smile breaking his stern expression. "That's what I want to see. Keep that up,"

Meanwhile, Lily worked alongside Harry, both demonstrating more advanced techniques for Marlene. Harry noted with quiet approval that Lily's shield was practically flawless, her movements precise and controlled. She spoke softly to Marlene, correcting small errors in form while sending encouraging smiles Peter's way.

When they moved to offensive casting, Marlene and Peter swapped roles. Peter hesitated again, his jinxes weak and misdirected. Marlene countered each one effortlessly, flicking spells back at him with practised ease. "You're thinking too much!" Lily called to Peter, stepping forward. "Just cast. Don't overanalyze it,"

"I-I'm trying!" Peter stammered, his cheeks flushed red.

Lily raised her wand. "Watch. Stupefy!"

A beam of red light shot toward Harry, who deflected it lazily with a flick of his wand. He smiled faintly. "Perfect technique, Evans,"

"Thank you," Lily replied, not missing a beat. She turned to Peter. "Your turn,"

To Harry's surprise, Peter straightened his shoulders, determination replacing his earlier nervousness. He raised his wand. "Stupefy!"

The spell wasn't strong, but it was steady, and Harry caught it with a shield charm that shimmered faintly. "Better," Harry said, nodding. "Again,"

By the end of the session, both Marlene and Peter were visibly exhausted but significantly improved. Peter's shields held longer, his spells sharper, and Marlene's repertoire of attacks had grown noticeably more versatile. Lily, despite not needing the session, remained engaged throughout, offering helpful critiques and guiding Marlene with quiet confidence.

Harry extinguished the practice dummy with a final flick of his wand and turned to face the trio. "Good work. Mr. Pettigrew, you're starting to understand. Ms. McKinnon, keep pushing yourself. If you both continue practising like this, you'll be ready for the Duelling Club,"

Peter beamed despite the sweat dripping down his face. "Th-thank you, Professor!"

Marlene smiled warmly. "I'll keep working on it,"

Harry's gaze shifted to Lily, who was packing up her bag. "Miss Evans,"

Lily looked up, brow arched. "Yes?"

Harry's expression softened. "Your precision and control are exceptional. I've decided to make you an Assistant Duelling Director in the Duelling Club,"

Lily blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Me?"

"You," Harry said with a faint smile. "It's clear you know how to guide others, and I'll need someone capable to help oversee the sessions,"

Lily hesitated for only a second before nodding, her expression determined. "I'd be honored, Professor,"

"Good," Harry replied. "You'll start assisting me next week,"

When the three students finally left, Harry remained seated at his desk, staring at the parchment once more. The Codex hummed ominously in the silence, its whispers clawing back into his mind.

The girl is sharp, but she is weak. She will fail when it matters most. They all will.

Harry ignored it as he rose, grabbing his cloak and tucking the Codex securely into his satchel. He had no time for rest tonight. The first name on his list awaited him. The Ancient One. He glanced out the window, where the castle grounds lay bathed in moonlight. The horizon was dark and vast, an expanse of secrets yet to be uncovered. The war with Voldemort had ended, but another loomed on the edges of his reality. Harry didn't dare wait.

"Let's see if Kamar-Taj has answers," he muttered to himself before slipping out into the night, the weight of destiny pressing firmly on his shoulders.

3:14pm- September 4th, 1976 - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2

The wind whipped through the castle grounds, carrying the faint rustle of leaves and the soft cry of nocturnal creatures. Beyond the protective wards, the Scottish Highlands were bathed in sunlight. Harry moved with purpose, his cloak billowing behind him as he strode to the very edge of Hogwarts' boundaries. His mind was racing. So many names, so many tasks. He couldn't waste another moment. The parchment he'd scrawled earlier was burned into his mind. It was the list of a desperate man. The war looming on the horizon was too great for him to shoulder alone. He needed allies. Individuals and groups strong enough to stand against what he knew the Domus Mortis would bring. The Codex Infernum hung heavily at his side, its whispers now incessant, like dark currents flowing through his veins.

You seek others to save you? It hissed, its voice low and poisonous. You are wasting precious time. Allies are weakness. They will betray you.

Harry grit his teeth, stepping through the last layer of Hogwarts' wards. The magic shimmered faintly, like a veil of silver parting for its master. He ignored the Codex, though its whispers gnawed at the edges of his resolve.

"You're wrong," he muttered to himself. "They'll fight. They care about this world,"

The Codex's response was a dark laugh, a slithering sound that oozed through his thoughts. You are not their savior, Harry Potter. You are their doom. You will see it soon enough.

Harry didn't respond. His focus was elsewhere. On the vast expanse of the sky and the path that lay ahead. He turned sharply, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment from his cloak. On it, drawn with careful precision, were faint coordinates. The location of Kamar-Taj. The first name on his list: The Ancient One. With a Crack! and a swirl of black smoke, Harry disappeared.

The journey from Scotland to the Himalayas had been jarring, even for Harry. He'd apparated as far as he could, only to find himself stopped by powerful wards blocking the last stretch of the journey. Kamar-Taj did not reveal itself to just anyone. He considered passing through them as he had the wards around Hogwarts, but understood that it would only negate his pleas for alliance. The cold was biting, sharper than any winter he'd experienced. Snow whipped violently around him as he climbed the narrow stone path, his boots crunching against ice. The jagged cliffs loomed on either side, and Harry's breath came in short, sharp bursts.

"Almost there," he muttered, as much to himself as to the Codex, which had gone silent in the face of Kamar-Taj's magic. It was unsettling. The Codex was never silent.

The path finally ended at an ancient wooden door embedded into the mountainside. Runes carved into its surface glowed faintly, as though alive. Harry could feel the power emanating from it. An energy unlike anything he had encountered before. For a moment, he hesitated. The Codex whispered again, its voice softer this time. They will not help you. They will see the corruption you carry. Harry exhaled sharply, shoving the words aside. He raised his fist and knocked three times.

The sound echoed eerily into the stillness. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, with a creaking groan, the door opened just enough for Harry to see a figure standing within. It was a man dressed in simple yellow robes, his face sharp and watchful, his eyes faintly glowing with magic. "You have come far," the man said, his voice calm but guarded. "Why are you here?"

"I need to speak with the Ancient One," Harry replied firmly, his green eyes meeting the man's unflinchingly.

The man studied him for a beat, his gaze lingering briefly on the satchel at Harry's side - as though he could sense the Codex - and then stepped back. "Follow me,"

3:20pm- September 4th, 1976 - Kamar-Taj - Earth - Universe Designation: 1.638.2

Harry's first impression of Kamar-Taj was that it was alive. The halls were steeped in ancient magic, the air itself humming with power. Golden symbols danced across the curved walls, glowing faintly with every step he took. The faint scent of incense hung heavy, clinging to the stone surfaces. This place felt old. Older than Hogwarts. Older than Gringotts. An ancient reservoir of knowledge and power.

The man led Harry through winding corridors until they entered a vast chamber illuminated by glowing lanterns. At the far end of the room stood a figure that radiated calm and authority. The Ancient One. Clad in flowing golden robes, her head bald and her face ageless, the Ancient One turned to greet him. Her piercing gaze met his, and Harry felt an unnerving sense that she could see through him—every thought, every fear, every whisper the Codex planted in his mind. This was the same woman he had seen in his visions.

"Harry Potter," she said smoothly, her voice soft yet commanding. "You have come seeking answers,"

Harry straightened, holding her gaze. "I have. I need your help,"

The Ancient One stepped forward, her hands clasped behind her back. "And what kind of help do you seek?"

Harry took a breath, steadying his voice. "War is coming. I've seen it. An enemy called the Domus Mortis. They'll stop at nothing until this world is ash, and I can't fight them alone,"

The Ancient One tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. "The Domus Mortis," she echoed, tasting the words. "That is a name I have not heard in many centuries,"

"You know of them?" Harry asked, his heart quickening.

"I know of their kind," she replied, her voice low. "They are conquerors. Destroyers of worlds. And you..." Her gaze flicked to the satchel. "...you carry something that they would covet,"

The Codex seemed to pulse at her words, as though pleased by her recognition. Harry shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against the strap of his bag. "It's mine to bear,"

"And yet it bears you," the Ancient One replied, her tone unreadable. "It whispers to you even now. I can feel its corruption, Harry Potter,"

Harry clenched his jaw. "I didn't come here to talk about the Codex. I came to ask for your help. You're one of the few beings who stand a chance against them. Will you help me?"

The Ancient One studied him in silence. The golden runes along the walls seemed to glow brighter, pulsing gently in rhythm with the energy of the room. Finally, she spoke. "You seek allies. That is wise. But know this. Allies will not win this war for you. You must master yourself first. Your power, your fears, and the darkness you carry,"

Harry's fingers curled into fists. "I've mastered it," he said stubbornly.

"Have you?" she asked, her gaze piercing. "Or has it mastered you?"

For a moment, the room felt colder. The Codex stirred again, its whispers rising. Leave this place. She does not trust you. She cannot help you.

"Quiet," Harry muttered, his voice low but forceful.

The Ancient One raised a brow. "You will not defeat the Domus Mortis by silencing the voice. You must face it,"

Harry exhaled slowly, steadying himself. "Then teach me,"

The Ancient One's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Very well. But know this. The road you walk is perilous, and the darkness will test you at every turn,"

"I'm ready," Harry replied, his voice unwavering.

The Ancient One nodded. "Then let us begin,"

The air in Kamar-Taj felt different the moment the Ancient One agreed to teach Harry. It was as though the very walls shifted in response, acknowledging him as a seeker of their truths. Harry stood alone in the center of a vast training chamber, its walls adorned with intricate golden runes that seemed to pulse with energy. The Ancient One continued to watch him from a distance, her posture regal and unwavering, her presence filling the space effortlessly.

"You carry much within you, Harry Potter," she began, her voice calm yet sharp enough to slice through stone. "Your burdens are heavy, and your power immense. But it is fractured. Untamed. Before you can wield the Mystic Arts, you must understand two truths," She held up two slender fingers. "One. Power flows not from dominance, but from balance. Two. You are your greatest obstacle,"

Harry frowned slightly, shifting his weight. "I don't need balance; I need strength to stop the Domus Mortis,"

The Ancient One's brow arched faintly, as though she'd expected this reply. "And therein lies the problem. Come,"

She gestured to the floor, where an ornate, circular design glowed faintly beneath his feet. Harry followed her gaze, feeling the ancient power that seeped into the stone. The runes shifted subtly, like sand in a current, responding to his magic. At her signal, he knelt. The Ancient One sat cross-legged before him, her movements fluid, controlled, and ageless. "The Codex whispers to you," she said softly, her sharp eyes piercing his defenses. "It feeds on your doubt and pride. You carry it as a weapon, but it wears you like a chain,"

Harry's hand instinctively brushed the satchel at his side. He bit back a reply. The Ancient One's gaze never wavered.

"To defeat what is coming, you must conquer the darkness inside you. That begins today,"

The chamber's silence pressed on Harry like a physical weight as he sat on the cold, polished floor. The spirals of light carved into the walls twisted and shifted faintly, as though the room itself was alive, breathing in tandem with the world's unseen rhythms. The air hung heavy with incense. Something earthy and sharp, filling his lungs and making his head swim. He wasn't sure if the scent was meant to calm or disorient, and he was leaning toward the latter.

The Ancient One, poised and patient, sat across from him, cross-legged and perfectly still, as though she had always been a part of the room itself. Her golden robes pooled like liquid light, her presence almost a contradiction. Ethereal yet tangible, distant yet impossibly near.

"Sit," she had commanded earlier. Harry obeyed, though every instinct in his body screamed to move, to act, to fight. That was what he knew. Hands clenched, spells ready, enemies to be defeated. He had faced Basilisks, Dementors, Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself, and the battles had always been tangible, physical things. Not this. This stillness was something foreign, uncomfortable. "Close your eyes,"

Harry hesitated. His posture was stiff, his fists clenching at his knees. He wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "Close them," she repeated, her tone calm yet absolute. Reluctantly, Harry obeyed. Darkness flooded his vision, and the faint golden glow of the room disappeared. "Now, breathe," Harry frowned but took a shallow breath. "In..." The Ancient One's voice was steady, rhythmic. "...out. Let go of the noise. Let go of the Codex. Find your center,"

The words echoed in his mind. Let go of the Codex. That was easier said than done. Harry had carried the cursed book long enough to know its presence was constant. A shadow pressing against his consciousness, whispering dark truths and quiet threats. Closing his eyes only made its voice louder. The whispers started immediately, flowing like oil into the empty space left behind by the silence.

You don't need her.
She is a distraction.
You will burn.

Harry's jaw tightened, his breathing becoming uneven. He fought the instinct to open his eyes, but the whispers were slithering through his thoughts, relentless.

"You will not silence it," the Ancient One said softly, as though hearing the very whispers herself. "Do not resist the voice. Acknowledge it,"

Harry's eyes snapped open, sweat beading at his temples. "You don't understand -"

"I understand more than you realize," she interrupted smoothly, her expression unchanging. "You fear the voice because you believe it is stronger than you. But the voice is only as strong as the power you give it. Close your eyes again," Harry hesitated, swallowing hard, before he complied once more.

"Breathe," she commanded gently. "Let it come. Face it,"

The whispers returned, louder and more insidious.

They will come.
You will fail.
You cannot win.
You are alone.

Harry winced as the words seemed to burrow into his skull, drilling into his thoughts like a thousand poisoned needles. Then, something shifted. The floor beneath him was gone. The cold air vanished. He fell, not physically, but in his mind, as though some unseen force had yanked him inward.

When Harry opened his eyes, he found himself in a void.

It was not true darkness, but something worse. The air was thick and oppressive, like a suffocating shroud pressing against his skin. The silence was wrong. It wasn't peaceful, it was absolute, as though sound itself had been banished from existence. Every instinct screamed at Harry to move, to escape, but there was nowhere to run. The void stretched endlessly in all directions, a cold and empty nothingness. Then, a ripple broke through the stillness and out of the void emerged him.

Harry staggered back a step, his heart pounding in his chest. It wasn't just a reflection. It was a warped, twisted version of himself.

Dark-Harry wore robes the color of smoke, flowing unnaturally around his feet as if they were alive. His hair hung in ragged waves over his pale face, but it was his eyes that unsettled Harry most. They burned an unnatural, sickly green, flickering like flames that consumed from within. His lips curved into a smirk. Cold, cruel, and knowing. In his left hand, Dark-Harry held the Codex Infernum, its black cover pulsating like a heartbeat. "Finally," the doppelgänger said, his voice ringing through the void like a distorted echo. "You're ready to meet me,"

Harry's fists clenched in anger. "What are you?"

The figure tilted his head, his cruel smirk widening. "I am you," His voice dripped with mockery. "The part you hide. The part you fear. I am the anger you bury. The fear you suppress. The strength you refuse to embrace,"

"You're nothing but a lie," Harry spat.

Dark-Harry laughed. It was a hollow, echoing sound that seemed to vibrate through the void, rattling Harry's bones. "Is that what you think? That I'm some illusion conjured by that book you so foolishly cling to?" He held the Codex aloft, and it throbbed with dark energy. "I am your strength, Harry. The strength you need. The Codex knows it. It chose you,"

"I'll never become you," Harry growled, stepping forward, his wand aimed squarely at the figure.

Dark-Harry's laughter faded, his expression turning cold. "You think you're strong because you fight it? Look at you. Trembling. Weak. You carry this book like a shield, but we both know it will consume you," As though to prove his point, Harry felt the weight of the Codex in his hand. Heavy, cold, unbidden. He looked down, startled to see it there. The whispers rose, louder now, a torrent of noise crashing through his thoughts.

Take the power.

Take the power.

TAKE THE POWER.

The air grew colder, the void pressing harder against his chest. Dark-Harry stepped closer, the sickly glow of his eyes burning brighter. "You can't fight me. I am you,"

Harry staggered back, clutching the Codex tightly even as it burned his hands. Sweat dripped from his brow, his breaths ragged and shallow. "You're lying," he choked out. "You're not me!"

Dark-Harry's wand rose, glowing with green light. "Prove it,"

The void seemed to shift as the dark figure fired a blast of energy that exploded toward Harry. He barely had time to throw up a shield, but the force of the attack sent him sprawling backward. Pain flared through his body as he hit the invisible ground, his wand skidding from his grip. "Pathetic," Dark-Harry sneered. "You'll die, just like the others. Weak. Alone,"

Harry pushed himself up, panting, every fiber of his being trembling with exertion. The whispers were louder now, drilling into his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. You will lose. Let me take over.

Harry clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. "NO!" he roared, his voice reverberating through the void.

Dark-Harry faltered, his smirk slipping slightly.

"You're not me," Harry said, forcing himself to stand. "You're just a piece of me. A shadow. You're not my strength. I am," The Codex pulsed violently in his hand, but Harry looked straight into his doppelgänger's eyes, his own magic roaring to life within him. "I don't need you. And I don't need this book,"

With a cry of raw defiance, Harry hurled the Codex to the ground. It landed with a dull thud, the whispers shrieking like wounded animals. Dark-Harry's form flickered, his edges distorting as though the void itself were rejecting him.

"No," Dark Harry hissed, his voice cracking. "You need me. You -"

"You're wrong," Harry said quietly, his voice steady now. "You're just the part of me I refuse to let win," The void around him rippled, the darkness beginning to crack like glass. Light poured through the fractures, blinding and warm, drowning out Dark-Harry's final scream as he disintegrated into nothing.

The cracks spread outward like veins of light, shattering the oppressive darkness. Harry stood firm, his wand steady, his breathing ragged but victorious as the last fragments of Dark-Harry dissipated into nothingness. The void that had once been suffocating now glowed faintly with warmth, the suffocating cold replaced by a weightless calm.

Harry exhaled, his hands trembling slightly. The Codex, which moments before had pulsed with malevolent energy, was now silent. It lay still where it had landed, as though stripped of its voice...for now. Harry stared at it warily, his chest heaving, but he didn't pick it up. For the first time, he felt as though he had gained ground in the war for his soul. "Well done," a calm voice echoed through the light.

The Ancient One's voice pulled Harry back to awareness. He blinked, and the void around him seemed to collapse inward, folding like parchment until he was back in the chamber at Kamar-Taj. He sat upright, gasping for breath, sweat dripping down his brow. The golden runes on the walls shimmered gently, their energy pulsing in time with his own rapid heartbeat.

The Ancient One stood over him, her expression unreadable, her hands clasped in front of her. Harry blinked up at her, struggling to focus, to ground himself in the present. The air was still thick with the remnants of magic, but it no longer weighed him down.

"You faced it," she said softly, though there was a note of pride in her voice. "You faced the shadow within you and prevailed,"

Harry dragged a hand through his damp hair, his chest still rising and falling with every breath. "It's not gone," he muttered hoarsely. "It's still there,"

"It will always be there," the Ancient One replied, kneeling before him so that her gaze met his levelly. "The shadow of oneself is eternal. What you have done is reclaim your authority over it. The voice will still whisper, but it will no longer control you,"

Harry glanced at the satchel where the Codex sat, lifeless and silent for the first time in months. It no longer thrummed with the oppressive, parasitic energy he had grown accustomed to. Even so, the sight of it left a faint unease in his chest.

"Is that enough?" he asked quietly. "To win against them?"

The Ancient One studied him for a long moment. "You have made progress, Harry. But progress is not mastery. To wield the power necessary to face what is coming, you must find balance. Until then, the Codex will test you. It will tempt you. But now you know the truth. That it is only as powerful as you allow it to be,"

Harry looked away, letting her words sink in. For the first time in what felt like forever, he understood. The Codex was not his prison. It was not his master. It was a part of him now. One he would learn to control. "Your will is strong, Harry. But strength must be tempered with wisdom," She turned toward the center of the chamber, where an ornate golden circle was etched into the floor. Runes pulsed faintly within its circumference. "Come," she beckoned. "You are not finished yet,"

The Ancient One led Harry to the circle, its golden glow flickering as though alive. He could feel the magic radiating from it. Something ancient and vast, but not oppressive like the Codex. It was different. Balanced. "This is the next step," she said, stepping to the edge of the circle. "You have faced the darkness within. Now, you must learn to channel your magic with purpose,"

"I already know how to channel magic," Harry replied, his brow furrowing slightly. "I've been doing it since I was eleven,"

The Ancient One turned to face him, her expression impassive but her eyes sharp. "And yet your magic controls you as much as you control it. That is why the Codex has influence. It is not simply the darkness. It is raw, unchecked power. You must learn to shape your energy. Direct it. Without balance, even the purest magic can become destructive,"

Harry frowned, considering her words. If that was true, the raw Feral Magic he had absorbed had only fueled the darker part of him that the Codex fed off of. "So what do I do?"

She gestured to the circle. "Step inside. And listen carefully,"

Harry stepped into the glowing circle, the light flickering higher as though welcoming him. The instant both of his feet crossed the threshold, a surge of warmth rippled up through his body. It wasn't like the sickly heat of the Codex's dark power. This warmth was alive. Clean, though no less intense. The Ancient One began pacing around the circle's edge, her calm voice filling the chamber. "Magic is not force alone, Harry. It is intention. Thought. Emotion. When you cast a spell, you do not simply speak the words, you channel your will into the world. Without intention, your spells are blunt instruments. With focus, they become art,"

Harry watched her, absorbing every word, though his focus sharpened when she flicked her wrist and summoned a small ball of golden light into her hand. It hovered over her palm, twisting and shifting like liquid flame. "This," she said, "is balance. Will and power aligned. I want you to do the same. Draw on your magic. Not through anger, not through fear, but through clarity,"

Harry hesitated, staring at her open palm. "And if I can't?"

"You can," she said simply. "Begin,"

He closed his eyes again, drawing in a slow breath. He'd summoned magic a thousand times before, but this was different. She was asking him to feel it in a way he never had. Without instinct, without emotion as his guide.

Focus.

His wand arm rose, though he didn't use the wand itself. Instead, he reached inward. The void from earlier was still there, the memory of Dark-Harry lingering on the edge of his mind like a shadow. But this time, Harry pushed past it. Beneath the fear, beneath the anger, he felt it. A pulse of energy, of magic. His magic. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, warmth bloomed in his chest. He could feel the energy flowing up through his core, down through his arm, and out to his fingertips. When he opened his eyes, a faint, glowing sphere hovered over his hand. Unstable and flickering but there nonetheless.

"You see?" the Ancient One said, her voice softer now. "It is within you. Not the Codex. You,"

Harry's heart swelled with something close to pride, though he forced himself to focus. The light faltered, and for a moment, the whispers of the Codex surged.

What are you doing?
You don't need her. You don't need this.

The sphere wavered, flickering dangerously, but Harry gritted his teeth. "Not this time," he whispered. He breathed deeply, focusing his thoughts, his will, until the sphere stabilized once more—warm, pure, and wholly his.

The Ancient One nodded approvingly. "Good. Now...control it,"

Over the next several hours, she pushed Harry further. Balancing magic. Shaping it into different forms. A stream of light, a blade of energy, even small arcs of golden fire. It was exhausting, and each misstep sent the sphere cracking apart like shattered glass, forcing him to start again. By the time he collapsed to his knees on the chamber floor, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, Harry's sphere hovered perfectly in front of him. Solid and steady. It didn't waver. It didn't flicker.

The Ancient One stepped closer, her gaze both approving and critical. "You are learning," she said quietly. "But this is only the beginning. Until you master yourself - truly master yourself - you will never master the Codex,"

Harry looked up at her, his chest heaving. "I will," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "I'll master it,"

The Ancient One tilted her head slightly, the barest trace of a smile touching her lips. "Then we shall continue tomorrow,"