The meeting room was quieter than the bank's public floors—smaller, paneled in deep green oak, and charmed for privacy in ways Harry could feel humming behind his teeth. A sideboard offered tea. No one touched it.

Tharkun stood at the head of the room, formal in his crimson robes. To his left sat Healer Roen, cool and composed as ever. Two chairs waited across the table. Harry and Hermione took them without needing to be asked.

Across from them, two strangers watched quietly.

"Mr Potter. Miss Granger," Tharkun began. "You are here today to meet the magical guardians we spoke of earlier. If you choose to proceed, one of them will serve as your magical proxy for matters of law, magic, and legacy until you reach magical majority—or sooner, should circumstances change."

He glanced down at the scroll before him.

"They have both reviewed the information you provided under confidentiality. They are bound to neutrality during this meeting and may answer questions freely."

Roen gave a small nod. "This is your chance to feel them out. Ask what you need to. Be honest."

Tharkun gestured to the woman first.

"Lady Clarisse Marchand," he said. "Magical anthropologist, heritage consultant to the ICW, expert in bloodline restoration, contract unbinding, and cultural reintegration."

Clarisse inclined her head slightly. She was tall, elegant, sharply dressed in ash-grey robes edged in blue sigils. Her eyes were cool and assessing, like she was already thinking six moves ahead.

"You must be the girl who never stopped asking why," she said softly, looking at Hermione.

Hermione blinked.

Clarisse turned, gaze sharp but not unkind. "And the boy who kept surviving the silence."

Harry looked down at the table, throat tightening.

Tharkun nodded to the man beside her.

"Elijah Dorne. Former field enforcer. Works with magically displaced children, guardianship conflict cases, and defensive ritual binding."

Elijah gave them a small, lopsided smile. He looked… tired, but solid. Kind eyes. Threadbare robes. A few scars that suggested he hadn't earned his credentials behind a desk.

"I don't do speeches," he said. "But I do stand between people and the things they're not ready to face alone."

That, oddly, landed harder than any title might've.

Roen leaned forward. "You've both asked about what guardians do. Now's the time to see if either of these two feel like someone you could trust with your voice—your rights—your place in the world."

Hermione sat forward first. "What exactly can you do as a guardian?"

Clarisse's reply was swift, clipped, and clear. "Legally, I can represent you in magical contracts, financial matters, and magical family claims. I can investigate your history, speak on your behalf in the Wizengamot, and block false claims or binding spells. I do not override your choices—I protect your ability to make them."

Hermione's voice was steady. "And what about emotional support?"

Clarisse didn't blink. "I do not coddle. But I see the children I work with. I listen. And I teach them to understand their own magic—not as something inherited, but as something owned."

Hermione nodded, absorbing every word.

Harry glanced at Elijah. "What about you?"

Elijah scratched the back of his neck. "Most of what she said, I do too. But I lean towards the practical. Wards. Protection. Conflict de-escalation. I'm good at getting people out of situations they didn't choose. And I'm good at watching for when they need backup—even if they don't ask for it."

Roen tilted her head. "Do either of you typically stay involved after magical majority?"

Clarisse's expression softened, just slightly. "If the child wishes it, yes."

Elijah nodded. "You don't stop needing people just because you're of age."

Tharkun spoke again, voice like polished stone. "A magical guardian may not control your daily life—but they will have authority over magical decisions involving inheritance, bloodline contracts, bonded vaults, ritual authority, and any contested family claims. They also have the power to block inappropriate magical influence from school, Ministry, or others."

Harry stirred. "Including Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Tharkun said flatly. "Especially Dumbledore."

There was a silence.

Hermione glanced between them. "May I ask something else?"

Clarisse inclined her head. "Of course."

"What do you think you can do for us?" Hermione asked. "I mean—specifically. You've read our files. You know what we're facing. What would you do, if you were our guardian?"

Clarisse didn't hesitate.

"For you, Miss Granger, the priority is untangling your legal identity—recovering records, reversing concealments, and ensuring that if magical lineage is confirmed, your biological family has no claim to override your autonomy." Her voice was precise but not cold. "I would also ensure you have independent access to magical training, particularly around ritual literacy and hereditary magic. You've been intentionally undereducated. That ends."

Hermione's breath caught—but she nodded.

Clarisse turned to Harry. "You, Mr Potter, have had your magic suppressed, your finances monitored, and your legacy misrepresented. You need immediate review of your magical health, unbinding of any illegal contracts, and protection from institutional overreach. Your guardianship was not simply neglected—it was subverted."

Harry swallowed hard. "So you think this was on purpose."

Clarisse gave him a long, unreadable look. "I think you were placed where no one would hear you scream. And yes, I believe that was intentional."

Silence.

Elijah leaned forward then, hands folded, his voice lower but no less firm.

"I agree with her assessment," he said. "But I'll add this: both of you are carrying more weight than any child should. I wouldn't just fight your battles. I'd help you choose which ones to walk away from. Not every truth has to be a war. Sometimes, it just needs someone to say, 'you've done enough.'"

Harry blinked. Hermione looked down.

Roen let the silence sit, solid and unhurried.

Then she spoke, softly.

"Those are the kinds of guardians we've brought to you. Not perfect. But honest. And committed."

Tharkun gathered the parchment, then met Harry's eyes. "When you are ready to name your guardian, you will sign the ritual binding in front of a witness. That person becomes your shield in magic. You do not give them power. You give them permission to wield it on your behalf."

Harry nodded.

Hermione looked down at her hands, then up at Clarisse.

"I'd like to speak with you privately, if I may."

Clarisse stood at once. "Of course."

Elijah raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Walk with me? I know a place with less marble."

Harry let out a breath and stood. "Yeah. All right."

They left the room two by two, not with certainty—but with the first clear glimpse of people who might just stand beside them when the world turned sharp.