THE DAILY PROPHET:

Shocking incidents at Triwizard Competition:

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

HOGWARTS CASTLE, SCOTLAND – What was meant to be a night of glory, excitement, and international unity turned into a night of horror as the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament ended in tragedy, bloodshed—and perhaps the most chilling information the wizarding world has long feared:
He Who Must Not Be Named… has returned.

Eyewitnesses describe the final task descending into chaos mere minutes before the expected conclusion. The Hogwarts grounds echoed with screams, curses, and the sounds of frantic dueling as something—or someone—intervened during the final stretch of the enchanted maze.

In a horrifying turn of events during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived—was flung from a magical portal above the Quidditch Pitch, bloodied and in shock, screaming the name of fellow champion Aurora Blackwood.

The portal, which appeared mid-air in a dazzling arc of fire, opened approximately one hour after the champions entered the maze. Mr. Potter landed heavily on the ground, covered in blood and dirt, and was immediately attended to by his parents, Lily and James Potter. It reportedly took both of them considerable effort to calm their son, who was panicked and near collapse.

Once stabilized, Potter revealed a story that has sent shockwaves through the wizarding community: He Who Must Not Be Named has returned.

According to Potter, both he and Aurora Blackwood were transported via a cursed Portkey to Little Hangleton's graveyard, the very site now confirmed to have hosted the Dark Lord's grotesque resurrection ritual. In a display of immense bravery, Blackwood is said to have shielded Potter and forced him through a conjured portal at the cost of her own safety—remaining behind, alone, with the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

A Rescue Mission Launched

Upon hearing his son's account, James Potter, current Head of the Auror Office, immediately took action. A task force of twelve Aurors was quickly assembled under the lead of Auror Sirius Black, and a rapid deployment plan was launched in coordination with Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.

Unexpectedly, three Triwizard Champions—Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour, and Cedric Diggory—insisted on joining the rescue mission, citing their gratitude and loyalty to Blackwood.

At approximately 11:50 p.m., the strike team Apparated to Little Hangleton, where they encountered heavy resistance from confirmed Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. A fierce battle erupted across the graveyard.

Aurora Blackwood Found—Gravely Injured

Aurora Blackwood was found unconscious at the center of the ritual site, severely wounded and showing signs of both physical and magical trauma. She was retrieved from the battlefield by Champions Krum, Delacour, and Diggory, while Aurors and Dumbledore engaged the Death Eaters in a sustained duel.

Three Aurors were killed in the mission, Rufus Scrimegour and two fresh starters. A total of seven Death Eaters were captured and killed during the operation. However, the Dark Lord and several high-ranking followers escaped before additional reinforcements arrived.

Aurora Blackwood is currently being treated in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing by Madam Pomfrey and Lily Potter, who has temporarily resumed her position as a qualified Healer. Sources inside the castle say her condition remains critical, but stable.

Ministry Reaction and Public Panic

The Ministry of Magic has yet to issue an official statement on the events of the night, though inside sources confirm an emergency meeting has been called within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

One senior Auror, speaking under condition of anonymity, stated:

"This is no longer a question of if. He's back. And war is coming."

James Potter hasn't been available for interview nor has been Dumbledore.

Meanwhile, fear and confusion have spread across the student body and magical population alike. Hogwarts has been placed under enhanced protective enchantments, and curfew has been imposed indefinitely.

From The Students:

Viktor Krum

"We didn't know what we were walking into," Krum said grimly. "But the moment we appeared in the graveyard, we felt it—like the magic itself was twisted."
"He was there. The Dark Lord. Flesh and bone. Not just stories, not just nightmares. Real. And powerful."
"Aurors were duelling his followers, and for a moment, we saw him—his face, his eyes. Cold. Empty. I will never forget that look for the rest of my life."

Fleur Delacour

"It was as if the entire place was drenched in evil," Fleur whispered, visibly shaken. "The air—it hurt to breathe. Spells flying, screams, shadows moving where there were none."
"And in the middle of it… He stood there. Not hiding. Not fleeing. Watching us."
"Even with all the chaos, he looked calm—like it was all a game to him. I've never been more afraid."

Cedric Diggory

"I didn't believe it until I saw him," Cedric said, still pale. "We've all heard the stories. But seeing him—really seeing him—it changes something in you."
"He looked at us like we were insects. Not even worth killing."
"If not for the Aurors… I don't know what would have happened. But that night… it wasn't a story anymore. Voldemort is back."

The Day After

James Potter folded the Daily Prophet with a scowl and threw it across the room. The newspaper hit the edge of the table and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. The bold headline glared up at him mockingly:

He ran a hand through his already-messy hair, pacing the length of the hospital wing. His robes were still creased from a night slept upright in a chair. His wand hand twitched at his side like it wanted to hex something.

Lily sat quietly nearby, her legs tucked under her in a hospital chair beside Aurora's bed. She hadn't left her side in over a day. Neither had James. The room smelled of potions, blood, and old fear.

"If Fudge keeps spouting this nonsense, I swear I'll go to the press myself," James growled, stopping short and glaring at the paper again. "He's playing politics while our children almost died. Voldemort is back, and he's treating it like some elaborate student prank!"

Lily looked up, dark circles under her eyes. Her hands, still wrapped tightly around a cold cup of tea, trembled slightly. "You're right, James. But threatening to hex the Minister of Magic won't help right now."

James turned toward her, his voice thick with fury and exhaustion. "I led those Aurors into that graveyard. I saw him. So did half the team. Do you think any of us will forget the way he looked? Calm. Confident. Like he never left."

He stopped pacing and stared down at Aurora's unconscious form. Her skin was pale against the white sheets, wrapped in bandages, a sheen of sweat clinging to her brow. She hadn't stirred since the night they brought her back.

"She shouldn't have been there," he whispered hoarsely. "Neither of them should have."

The door creaked open quietly, and Harry stepped into the room. He looked awkward in pajamas, still pale, but walking. His green eyes—so much like his mother's—were uncertain.

"Mum? Dad?"

James looked up immediately, his expression softening. "Harry."

"I—I'm feeling better. Madam Pomfrey let me go. I just… I needed to ask something."

Lily sat straighter. "Of course, love. What is it?"

Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It's about Aurora. I mean… I know she saved me. I just—why do you two care about her so much?"

James froze. Lily's eyes flickered.

"You looked like you were going to fall apart when she didn't wake up," Harry continued, his voice uncertain. "And the way you talk about her. It's not just concern. It's... different."

There was a long, aching silence.

James exhaled slowly. "She's not just someone we care about."

"She's your sister, Harry," Lily said softly.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Your older sister," James said. "Born before you. Before the war reached its worst. Before the curse."

Harry stepped back, the air knocked out of him. "You—you never told me?"

"We couldn't," Lily said. "To protect her. To protect you."

James ran a hand down his face, looking older in that moment than Harry had ever seen. "She was cursed by Voldemort as a baby. A dark, violent magic that we couldn't understand. It began changing her. We tried to contain it, to fight it—but every attempt only hurt her more."

Harry stared at them in disbelief, struggling to process. "So… you just sent her away?"

"No," Lily said quickly, tears forming. "We hid her. Gave her to a powerful family, protected by a Fidelius Charm. We never stopped watching over her. Dumbledore made sure of that. We loved her every single day she was gone."

James stepped toward his son. "We hated ourselves for it. But it was the only way to keep her—and you—safe."

Harry sat down heavily on the end of the bed. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to," Lily whispered. "Just rest now. We'll explain everything, in till then donnot tell anyone about this."

The hospital wing was still. The light outside had softened into the warm glow of evening. James sat beside Aurora's bed, his hand resting gently on hers. Lily sat on the other side, reading an old family photo album aloud in a quiet voice, her words more for herself than anyone else.

Suddenly, a soft groan broke the stillness.

Aurora stirred.

Lily dropped the album and shot to her feet. James leaned forward, heart hammering.

Aurora blinked slowly, her eyes glassy and confused. Her lips parted, her throat dry.

"Where…?" she croaked.

"You're safe," Lily said instantly, brushing her daughter's sweat-dampened hair off her forehead. "You're back at Hogwarts."

"Aurora, you're alright," James said, squeezing her hand. "You made it back to us."

Her breath hitched. "The graveyard... Harry… Voldemort…"

"You saved him," Lily whispered. "You were so brave."

Aurora's brows furrowed. She shifted slightly, wincing in pain. "I felt something… when he cast that spell. Like something inside me broke loose."

James and Lily exchanged a heavy look. It was time. It was enough of hiding things about her from her.

"Aurora," James said gently. "There's something you need to know. About what's inside you. About the curse."

She looked at them, her green eyes suddenly sharp. "You know what it is."

Lily nodded. "It's from him. Voldemort. When you were a baby, he left a mark on your magic. Something dark. It wasn't just a curse—it grew with you. It's part of why we had to send you away."

"You… sent me away because of it?" Aurora asked, voice trembling.

"To protect you," Lily whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "And everyone else. But mostly you. We never stopped loving you."

"You never told me," Aurora whispered. "You let me think…"

"You were never abandoned," James said, eyes filled with emotion. "Not for a second. We fought for you every way we could."

Aurora turned her face toward the window. Silent tears slid down her cheeks.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," she whispered.

James nodded slowly. "We'll wait. For as long as it takes."

And for the first time in years, their broken family sat in the quiet flicker of candlelight — reunited not by triumph, but by truth.

It took about a week before Aurora was well enough to be discharged from the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had fussed endlessly, and even Dumbledore had paid more visits than usual, his gaze unreadable behind those half-moon spectacles. Her parents had stayed at her bedside day and night—arguing, pleading, begging to remain by her side longer than allowed. But in the end, Aurora insisted it was best for her to stay in Britain. The War was far from over, and every whisper of dark magic seemed to echo back to her. If she wanted answers—about the curse, about Voldemort, about her place in all of it—she needed to be here.

The moment the heavy oak doors of the Hospital Wing creaked open and Aurora stepped into the corridor, she barely had time to steady herself before arms flew around her. She was engulfed in a tight, desperate hug. For a moment, she couldn't even breathe.

"Harry?" she whispered, her voice still hoarse from days of silence.

He pulled back just enough to let her see his face—and her heart cracked at the sight.

His eyes were red and puffy, rimmed with shadows from too many sleepless nights. His face was pale, his glasses slightly askew, and his lip trembled as he tried to speak.

"Why did you do it, Aurora?" His voice broke midway through her name. "Why? You could've escaped! You should have saved yourself—I could've found a way!"

Aurora blinked, stunned by the intensity in his tone. "Harry… you would have died!" she said plainly, her tone resolute, trying to make him understand. "There was no time—no other way."

"You should've let me die," he snapped, stepping back, eyes blazing with grief. "At least then I wouldn't have had to lose you before I even got to know you!"

The words hit her like a slap. She stared at him, speechless, the corridor suddenly too quiet, too cold.

"And then Mum told me," Harry went on, voice shaking, "she told me you were—" he choked, "—you were my sister. All this time, I thought I was alone. All this time, I dreamed about what it would be like to have a sibling—someone who understood. Someone who could care for me. Someone I could care for."

Aurora's breath caught in her throat.

"I finally found you, Aurora," he whispered, tears spilling over again. "And I thought I was going to lose you. I was scared—so scared. I've never felt that kind of fear before."

Aurora reached out, cupping his face gently. "Harry…" Her voice was softer now, layered with guilt, love, and something else—something ancient and protective. "I didn't want to lose you either. I couldn't. I won't." She didn't know what inside her made her say that, made her change so much, made her accept, but she was happy she did.

He collapsed into her again, sobbing into her shoulder, his body trembling.

Aurora held him close, her arms wrapping around him like a shield. She pressed her cheek to the crown of his head, letting the silence stretch between them—letting it speak louder than words.

"I'm here," she murmured at last. "I'm fine, Harry. I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

For the first time since the Tournament, Harry let himself believe it.

And for the first time in years, Aurora let herself feel it.

She wasn't alone anymore.

The sun was setting over the Black Lake, turning the surface into molten gold. Aurora stood at the edge of the courtyard, fingers trailing along the cool stone wall, her thoughts lost somewhere between what came next. The air was still, too still—like the world was holding its breath.

She felt him before she saw him.

Elias stepped out of the shadows, as quiet and smooth as smoke. His icy blue eyes met hers, unreadable, but something in them was different. Fractured.

"Elias," she breathed, relief flooding through her. She hadn't seen him since her release—he'd vanished, avoiding her like a ghost. "You've been gone—are you—?"

"Is it true?" he asked, cutting her off. His voice was low, steady, but there was something trembling beneath it. "What they're saying. Is it true? Is he back?"

Aurora stiffened. She didn't need to ask who he meant.

She nodded once. "Yes. Voldemort's back."

Elias's jaw clenched. His fists tightened at his sides, the light of the sunset flickering against his pale knuckles. For a long moment, he didn't speak. Then he exhaled through his nose, sharp and bitter.

"I thought so," he said quietly. "My parents… they're going to escape Azkaban. Soon."

Aurora's breath caught. "Elias…"

"And when they do, everything will change. Everything." His gaze dropped, like he couldn't bear to look at her. "I came to say goodbye."

The word hit her like a Bludger to the chest. "No. No, you don't get to do that. You don't just vanish—Elias, you don't get to leave me too."

"It's not a choice!" he snapped, voice breaking. "Do you think I want this? Do you think I haven't thought about every way out, every path that doesn't end with a Dark Mark on my arm?"

Aurora reached for him, but he stepped back.

"My name—my blood—everything about me screams Death Eater. They'll come for me the moment my parents are free. And if you're anywhere near me, they'll come for you too."

"You can hide," Aurora said quickly, desperately. "You can leave—tonight. You can disappear. I've done it before, I know how We can make them believe that you are dead and change your name… live a muggle life—"

"They'll find me," Elias whispered, his voice suddenly so young, so broken. "You don't understand. They always find us. I'm not like you, Aurora. I don't have a family willing to protect me. I don't have a Dumbledore. I have a fate written in curses and old magic and blood. And I'm tired of pretending I can outrun it."

Aurora's heart ached. "But you can. You're not them, Elias. You never were."

He looked at her then, really looked at her. And for a fleeting moment, she saw the boy she'd met on the Quidditch pitch, saw the one who smiled when no one was looking, the one who made sarcastic comments under his breath, the one who saw her not as a threat, but as something—someone—real.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice cracking.

"No, don't say it," she begged. "Don't—"

"I wanted more time. With you. With everything. But if I stay close to you, they'll use you against me. They'll destroy you just to break me. And I couldn't survive that."

He turned away then, walking backward for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'll always remember you, Aurora Blackwood."

"Don't do this," she choked out, tears falling freely now. "Don't leave me too."

But Elias only gave her one last look—haunted, beautiful, heart-shattering—and then he turned and walked away.

She didn't chase him.

She couldn't.

She had gained her parents but lost him.

Because deep down, she knew…

This was the price of war.

….

The carriages stood waiting at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, horses stamping and restless beneath the weight of leaving. The Beauxbatons carriage gleamed under the morning sun like a pearl, while the Durmstrang ship bobbed in the lake's calm waters, ready to carry its students home.

Aurora stood at the hilltop overlooking it all, her arms crossed tight over her chest. The wind played with her hair, whipping strands into her face, but she didn't brush them away.

She didn't want to say goodbye.

"I hate this part," Fleur said, appearing beside her, graceful even as her face was drawn with sadness.

Aurora turned and managed a soft smile. "You and me both."

Fleur reached out, taking Aurora's hands in her own. "You are strong, Aurora. Stronger than you know. But even the strong need people beside them. You don't have to do this alone."

"I'm not," Aurora whispered. "Not anymore."

Viktor joined them quietly, his heavy boots crunching against the grass. "The Tournament is over," he said simply. "But the war is just beginning."

Fleur nodded solemnly. "France will not ignore what happened here. My parents—they are with the Ministry. I will tell them everything. They will listen to me."

"And I will speak with my Headmaster – my new headmaster," Viktor added. "Durmstrang has dark history, but not all who study there are dark. Some will fight. I will make sure of it."

Aurora's throat tightened. She had fought beside them, bled beside them, nearly died beside them. They weren't just friends—they were family now. In a world unraveling, they were something she could hold on to.

"I'm staying with Potters for now," she said, "just until some things settle. Dumbledore says he needs time to prepare… for what's coming. But I'll write. As often as I can."

"You'd better," Fleur said, her eyes watery. "And if you need me—anything at all—you write me, and I will be on the next carriage back."

"I don't care how far Bulgaria is," Viktor added. "If you are in danger, I come."

Aurora laughed softly, blinking back tears. "You two are ridiculous."

Fleur pulled her into a tight embrace, whispering in French, "Mon cœur est avec toi. Toujours." My heart is with you. Always.

When she pulled away, Viktor stepped forward.

Then he pulled her into a sudden, strong embrace that spoke all the things he didn't say aloud.

'I didn't know I could be friends with the Ice Queen of Blackwoods.' Aurora laughed at that.

"I'm going to miss you both so much," Aurora said, her voice cracking.

"And we you," Fleur replied, linking arms with her and Viktor for one last moment of unity.

They stood like that, the three of them, facing the wind and the war, bound not by schools or competition—but by choice.

"We'll help each other," Aurora said quietly. "No matter what. We'll stand together when the time comes."

"Until the end," Viktor agreed.

"Until victory," Fleur whispered.

And when the final goodbyes were said, and the carriages began to roll, Aurora stood alone again.

But not empty.

They were gone.

But they were hers.

And in the gathering storm, that meant everything.

But Elias.