The floating island of Moonstone Dunvegan glowed under the star-filled evening sky.
A wide, open clearing in the garden had been transformed for the occasion. Soft golden lanterns floated lazily overhead, casting a warm, inviting light across the space. Scattered throughout were comfortable couches, deep armchairs and low tables arranged in casual clusters, perfect for conversation. A small raised platform, only six or eight inches high, served as a simple stage near the centre. On one side, a lively open-air cooking station buzzed with activity, where the elves worked with cheerful precision. The rich aroma of sizzling Glacial Dread-Maw steaks and steaming Permafrost Lobsters filled the air, while some elves stood ready to prepare anything requested on the spot.
Floating drink trays drifted slowly between groups, carrying chilled sodas, aged whiskies, fine wines, and sparkling magical brews, never obstructing the view or conversation.
The entire Nexus family, old and young alike had gathered. But right now everyone was gathered around the stage. Petunia and Vernon were standing with Arthur and Molly discussing something in low voices. Sirius and Amelia were standing nearer to the stage, and Amelia was failing to hide her anticipation. Bellatrix sat quietly beside Andromeda, a small, tentative smile on her face. The Hogwarts professors formed their own lively cluster, while the younger group of students dominated the open space.
Dumbledore stepped onto the small raised platform with the easy grace of someone who had addressed far larger crowds than this. The lanterns drifting overhead seemed to brighten instinctively, casting a warm spotlight over the old wizard and the slightly nervous young woman he had gently guided up beside him.
A hush fell over the gathering as people turned toward the stage, drinks and conversations pausing mid-sentence.
Dumbledore's voice carried effortlessly across the clearing, warm and rich with genuine pride.
"My dear friends," he began, smiling down at the assembled group, "tonight we gather not merely to enjoy good food and finer company, though both are plentiful... but to celebrate something truly remarkable."
He placed a gentle hand on Pansy's shoulder. The girl looked equal parts mortified and glowing under the attention.
"Miss Pansy Parkinson has created a spell she has named Singularis. With this spell, one can target and isolate any individual cell — or any number of cells — anywhere in the body, with absolute precision and without harming a single surrounding tissue. Its implications for healing are… staggering."
A ripple of surprise and murmurs swept through the crowd.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he continued. "Miss Parkinson, would you be so kind as to demonstrate?"
Pansy swallowed visibly, then nodded. She raised her wand with a slightly shaky hand and pointed it toward a large potted plant one of the elves had brought forward. A soft silver thread of light shot from her wand and wrapped around a single wilting leaf. The rest of the plant remained untouched as that one leaf suddenly glowed, its damaged cells isolated and highlighted in faint silver.
Then, with a quiet follow-up charm, she reversed the damage on just those marked cells. The leaf straightened, turning vibrant and healthy in seconds while the rest of the plant stayed exactly as it was.
For a moment, there was stunned silence.
Then the clearing erupted into applause and excited chatter.
Pansy stepped back quickly, cheeks burning crimson, clearly overwhelmed. Dumbledore gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she stepped down from the platform.
Almost immediately, people began to cluster around her.
McGonagall, Pomfrey, and Vector formed the first tight group, bombarding her with detailed healing questions. Snape just stood slightly apart murmuring to himself. A second group, mostly the parents and other professors gathered to discuss the broader implication, their voices rising with wonder.
Harry, however, held back the younger group with a subtle gesture. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the twins, Percy, Daphne, Tonks, Luna, Astoria, and Abigail all stayed near him, watching the chaos from a short distance.
"Don't overwhelm her right now," he said quietly. "I know it's exciting, but we have time to know."
Hermione couldn't contain herself. She turned to them, eyes still shining with that almost childlike excitement. "Okay... I'll explain what I know...."
While Hermione launched into her explanation, speaking rapidly and gesturing with both hands, Harry slipped away from the group with a small smile. The rich aromas drifting from the open-air cooking station had finally won him over.
He strolled over to the long counter where several house-elves were working with cheerful efficiency. One of them, a small elf with bright silver eyes and a crisp white apron, looked up and broke into a wide, toothy grin.
"Master Harry, sir!" Andy exclaimed happily. "What can Andy be getting for you tonight?"
Harry leaned casually against the counter, returning the smile. "Hey, Andy. Could I get some fried fish? Not the Dread-Maw, something different. And maybe some pasta on the side."
Andy's ears perked up. "Of course, Master Harry! What kind of fish would you be wanting? We have fresh Arctic Char, some lovely Halibut, or perhaps the Spiced Silverfin?"
Harry thought for a second, then grinned. "Surprise me. I'm fine with anything as long as it's huge. And maybe throw in some crisps on the side?"
Andy clapped his hands together excitedly. "Huge fish and crisps! Andy will make it perfect, Master Harry, sir! Extra crispy skin on the fish, yes?"
"Perfect," Harry said with a nod. "Thanks, Andy."
The little elf beamed and immediately darted off, barking orders at two other elves who sprang into action. Within moments, the station came alive with the sizzle of fresh oil and the rich scent of seasoning.
Harry stayed at the counter, watching the elves work with quiet amusement as the sounds of celebration continued behind him. The night was young, the food smelled incredible, and Pansy's achievement still hung warmly in the air like a promise.
The sizzle of fresh oil and the aromatic cloud of seasoning at Harry's station provided a comforting barrier against the roar of conversation across the lawn. As he stood leaning against the polished counter, a tall shadow fell beside him.
Professor Thorne stepped up, loosening the high collar of his traveling robes with a weary but thoroughly amused sigh. The current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked like a man who had fought through multiple magical skirmishes across the continent, yet tonight, a room full of second-years had managed to completely throw him off balance.
"Dinky!" Thorne called out with a warm chuckle as another house-elf popped up in front of him, Andy and his crew already a blur of movement behind the line preparing Harry's massive fish order. "Could I get a thick cut of that Glacial Dread-Maw steak, please? Medium-rare. And toss a handful of tempura vegetables on the side if you have the batter ready."
"Dinky will make it right away, Professor Thorne, sir!" Dinky squeaked before darting away towards the roaring flame of the main grills.
Thorne turned, leaning his back against the counter and crossing his arms as he looked out over the crowded lawn. His gaze lingered on the tight circle surrounding Pansy, then drifted toward Hermione, who was still aggressively gesturing as she lectured a thoroughly captivated younger group. He shook his head, a wry, self-deprecating smile on his face.
"I have to say, Harry... I've traveled from the shifting sands of Egypt to the dark forests of Albania, and I have never met students like these anywhere," Thorne said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. He glanced sideways at the second-year standing beside him. "First you, which is already a complete statistical anomaly, and now all the others? It's an insult to the life experience I've had so far in my world, really. I'm starting to wonder what the hell I was doing at their age."
Harry let out a genuine, low chuckle, adjusting his posture slightly. "Don't take it personally, Professor. It usually happens when people are given the right environment to actually work, instead of being forced to run in circles."
Harry looked back out at the clan, his green eyes reflecting the soft amber light of the hovering lanterns. "If you want to blame something, blame the way Hogwarts education has worked for the last few centuries. The curriculum jumps directly into casting spells, memorizing wand movements, and incantations. No one actually taught the students what magic is. Because of that, even the most naturally talented people never have their talents bloom. They're just reading recipes out of a textbook."
Thorne paused, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the sheer depth of Harry's observation. Before he could speak, Dinky popped back up, placing a steaming plate loaded with the perfectly seared, dual-temperature Dread-Maw steak and crisp, golden tempura vegetables in front of the professor.
Thorne took a bite of a tempura spear, the crunch echoing softly between them. "You're not wrong," he admitted quietly, looking at the steak that finished with that signature, clean arctic chill. "We train them to be soldiers or bureaucrats, not innovators. But what you lot have displayed... that's a paradigm shift."
Harry smiled, a calm, deeply confident expression settling over his features as Andy arrived, proudly levitating a massive platter containing a beautifully crisped Arctic Char alongside a steaming mound of perfectly sauced pasta and a mountain of golden crisps.
"Thanks, Andy. Looks incredible," Harry said, taking a fork. He turned back to Thorne, his voice dropping into a tone that was light, yet carried the absolute weight of a prophecy. "Get used to it, Professor. You're never not going to see things like this from now on. You can expect to see the entire world of magic change starting tonight. It won't just be my friends, either. Once the baseline shifts and the old restrictions break, people everywhere are going to start creating things that break the old world and force it to move forward. This is just the opening act."
Thorne paused, his fork hovering mid-air as he stared at the massive platter Andy had just placed in front of Harry. The Arctic Char was the size of a small shield, flanked by a literal mountain of golden crisps and a steaming, heavy mound of pasta. Even for a growing teenager, the sheer volume of food was staggering—though, within the inner circles of Nexus and Hogwarts, Harry's legendary, bottomless appetite was practically a documented fact.
A dry, amused smirk tugged at the corner of Thorne's mouth. He looked from the sprawling mountain of food up to Harry's completely unbothered expression, shaking his head.
"I have to say, though," Thorne murmured, his voice dripping with dry humor as he gestured with his fork toward the platter. "While the world of magic might be changing, I don't think I'll ever see another wizard with an appetite like that. Sometimes I genuinely wonder how you are not rolled out of Hogwarts like a barrel at the end of every term."
Harry let out another low chuckle, entirely unfazed as he picked up his fork and knife. "High metabolism, Professor. Blessed with that."
Thorne stared at the mountain of food for another beat, then shook his head with a resigned laugh. "Blessed? More like cursed. If I ate half of what you just ordered, I'd need a wheelbarrow to leave the table."
Harry speared a large, perfectly crisped piece of Arctic Char and took a bite, letting out a satisfied hum as the flaky fish practically melted on his tongue. "Worth it," he said simply, already reaching for the pasta next.
In the distance, away from the main swirl of conversation around Pansy, Pandora Lovegood stood with Amaryllis and Percival Parkinson. The three of them held drinks in their hands, watching the lively celebration with soft, reflective smiles.
"It still feels like a dream," Amaryllis said quietly, her voice warm with maternal pride. "Our Pansy… creating something like Singularis. Something that could change the entire world of healing."
Percival nodded, his usual stern expression softened by genuine emotion. "She's always been clever, but this… this is on another level. I keep thinking back to how ordinary our lives felt before Harry came into the picture. And now look at us. Look at her."
Pandora tilted her head, her long earrings swaying gently. "It really is hard to ignore, isn't it? Even when he doesn't take any credit for it, Harry has drastically improved so much. Potions, Charms, and he even managed to introduce an entirely new area of magic — Magitech. It's so hard to treat him as a child sometimes… but then you see moments like this."
She lifted her hand and pointed across the garden.
There, leaning casually against the cooking counter with a massive platter in front of him, was Harry. He was attacking an enormous piece of fried fish with single minded focus, cheeks slightly puffed as he took massive bites, golden crisps disappearing steadily beside it. He looked every bit of the hungry teenager, completely absorbed in his food, sauce glistening on his fingers.
Amaryllis and Percival followed her gaze and both of them chuckled warmly.
"That boy really does have an appetite that defies all logic," he said, shaking his head fondly.
Pandora smiled softly beside him. "He does. But tonight isn't about him."
All three of them turned their attention toward the heart of the gathering, where Pansy Parkinson stood surrounded by a growing crowd.
The young girl looked completely overwhelmed.
Her cheeks were flushed a deep, persistent pink. She kept fidgeting with the hem of her robes, eyes darting from one person to another as McGonagall, Pomfrey, and Vector fired gentle but rapid questions at her. Snape stood slightly behind them, listening with sharp intensity. A little further away, several parents and professors were discussing the broader implications in excited tones.
"I-I didn't expect it to be this big of a deal," Pansy stammered, voice quieter than usual. "It was just… an idea I had. I didn't think Singularis would… I mean, I wasn't even sure it would work properly…"
Pomfrey's eyes were shining with professional excitement. "My dear, this could completely change how we treat curse damage. The precision alone—"
Vector cut in eagerly, "—and in Arithmancy terms, the spell matrix is remarkably stable. How did you balance the targeting runes without—"
Pansy's shoulders hunched slightly, looking like she wanted to disappear into her own robes. She offered a weak, overwhelmed smile, clearly unused to this much positive attention all at once.
From a short distance away, her friends watched the scene with a soft, proud smile. They had deliberately held back, giving Pansy space.
"She looks like she's about to bolt," Ginny muttered.
"She's not used to this," Daphne replied quietly. "She deserves every bit of it, though."
On the stage area, Dumbledore had stepped back to give her room, but his eyes remained warm and encouraging. He could see how flustered the girl was, yet he also saw the quiet spark of pride beneath her embarrassment.
The celebration continued under the starlit sky of Moonstone Dunvegan, warm golden lanterns drifting lazily above the clearing like living fireflies. But suddenly...
"Alright, everyone!" Fred called out, his voice magically amplified. "We love you, Pansy, and we're incredibly proud — but our dear friend here looks like she might actually melt from all this attention!"
George picked up seamlessly. "So, as her loyal chaotic support system, we're officially stealing the spotlight for a moment to save her!"
Pansy shot them a look that was half grateful, half mortified. The crowd laughed, and the immediate pressure around her eased as people turned toward the stage.
Fred clapped his hands. "Tonight is a Nexus night! So we're making this official. We hereby declare the first ever Nexus Innovation Showcase! Every single member here — and we mean every single small, finished or half-baked. No hiding!"
George pointed dramatically at the audience. "Starting with our brilliant Pansy, who just dropped the biggest bombshell of the night. But after her, no one escapes. Not even you, Professor Snape!"
Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously from the side, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Right then!" Fred announced, voice magically amplified yet somehow still carrying that familiar cheeky warmth. "Since our brilliant Pansy has already raised the bar to impossible heights, we humbly—well, not that humbly—present the next act in the First Annual Nexus Innovation Showcase!"
George swept an arm dramatically toward the open sky above the clearing. "We call them... Quiver!"
With a synchronized flick of their wands, two gleaming chests materialized on the stage. The twins threw them open with theatrical flair, revealing rows of perfectly spherical balls that shimmered with an inner, restless energy. They weren't the dull, regulation red of standard Quidditch equipment. These pulsed faintly, as though breathing, their surfaces etched with delicate, ever-shifting runes that caught the lantern light like veins of liquid starlight.
The crowd leaned forward. Even Snape's perpetually sour expression flickered with reluctant curiosity.
"Three modes," George announced, plucking a full-sized Bludger from the chest. It looked ferocious. Black iron surface gleaming menacingly, the familiar menacing weight that had terrorized generations of players. "First, the Official Match Mode. Standard power. Standard fury. Standard glory on the pitch."
He tossed it lightly to Fred, who caught it one-handed and gave it a solid whack with a conjured Beater's bat. The Bludger rocketed away with a vicious whistle, streaking across the open garden space before curving back with lethal intent. Several adults instinctively ducked. Sirius let out a barking laugh.
"But here's where it gets brilliant," Fred continued, catching the returning ball with a casual wand gesture. He tapped it once with his wand. A soft chime echoed, like crystal striking crystal.
The Bludger shrank.
Before their eyes, it dwindled smoothly into a palm-sized version, yet every detail remained—tiny ferocious runes, perfect weight distribution for practice. Fred rolled it across his fingers like a conjurer's coin.
"Indoor Training Mode," George declared, his voice dropping into that perfect salesman's cadence. "Perfect for the common room. Perfect for winter days when you can't get outside. Tap once more..."
Another chime. The miniature Bludger's surface softened visibly, its aggressive runes dimming to a gentle glow.
"Family & Children Mode," Fred finished triumphantly. "Looks the part. Sounds the part. But when it hits..." He demonstrated by smacking it straight at George, who made no effort to dodge.
The tiny Bludger struck George's shoulder with a comical poof. Instead of bone-jarring impact, it bounced away like an overinflated sponge, leaving George dramatically stumbling backward in mock agony.
"Oi! You wound me!" George clutched his chest theatrically while the crowd erupted in laughter. Even McGonagall's lips twitched.
Petunia, standing near Arthur and Molly, covered her mouth, eyes wide with recognition. "Those are the Floating Fizzbees," she murmured, "but... Merlin, you've transformed them completely."
"Improved beyond recognition, Lady Dursley," Fred called out with a cheeky wink. "Quiver is going to market in July. Right alongside the new Spudmore racing broom line. Every serious team will want them. Every family with magical children will need them."
The demonstration continued, the twins feeding off each other's energy like lightning dancing between twin storms. They conjured small practice hoops and sent the miniature Quivers zipping through them in intricate patterns, showcasing control and safety. The children-proof versions bobbed harmlessly around little Astoria, who giggled delightedly as one gently nudged her cheek like an affectionate puppy.
Harry chuckled softly. "Well played. They actually saved her."
The showcase quickly took on a life of its own.
After the twins showcase, they turned to Snape who was standing just to the side of the stage.
"Professor Snape!" Fred called out with a dramatic flourish. "Your turn! Don't think we forgot about you!"
George grinned wickedly. "Come on, sir! Show us something brilliant. We know you've got secrets."
Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously, but after a long, pointed stare from Dumbledore and a few encouraging claps from the group, he stepped onto the small platform with clear reluctance. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small, elegant vial containing a shimmering reddish-yellow liquid.
"This," he said in his usual silky, clipped tone, "is Vigorium. A potion I created during my school days. It significantly accelerates recovery from magical exhaustion. It restores both core energy and physical stamina far more efficiently than standard Pepperup or restoration draughts."
A murmur of interest rippled through the gathering. Many people leaned forward with genuine curiosity.
Snape held the vial up for everyone to see, the liquid catching the light with rich, warm glow. He didn't demonstrate it, but the mere existence of such a refined original potion caused a wave of impressed whispers.
"Not bad, Professor!" one of the twins shouted. "That could be huge for long duels or fieldwork of Aurors."
Snape gave them a withering look but stepped down without further comment, clearly done with the attention.
Next, Dumbledore rose with a twinkle in his eye and stepped onto the platform. With a simple, elegant wave of his wand and a murmured incantation, the entire floating island was suddenly blanketed in soft, gentle snowfall. Flakes drifted down from the clear night sky, and the temperature across the whole domain dropped to a crisp, freezing -4 degrees Celsius. The snow shimmered under the lanterns, turning the terraces and gardens into a beautiful winter wonderland.
The crowd let out delighted gasps and cheers. Children laughed as they tried to catch snowflakes. Even the adults looked enchanted by the sudden, whimsical change.
Dumbledore stepped down with a humble smile, clearly pleased by the reaction.
Then McGonagall was gently encouraged onto the stage. With a single, precise wave of her hand and a sharp Transfiguration charm, a magnificent ice sculpture erupted from the water in the activity area below. It was a breathtaking depiction of a majestic phoenix rising from a frozen lake, wings spread wide, every feather and flame carved with incredible detail. The sculpture caught the lantern light and sparkled like diamond, towering impressively over the water.
The applause was thunderous.
Flitwick enveloped everyone in their own warming charm, making sure the cold didn't bother them.
Following Flitwick, many others showed what they were working on, and the showcase saved Pansy from being overwhelmed, but the twins never let the limelight shift away from her as one way or the other, they made sure to keep her the star of the party.
Finally the twins turned to Harry who by now had already stuffed his stomach to the brim and was just happily watching everyone's creations.
"Oi, Harry!" Fred called out, pointing dramatically. "Your turn! Don't think you're getting away with just eating."
George grinned wickedly. "Yeah, come on! Show us something new. We know you've been cooking up something ridiculous in that big brain of yours."
"I haven't made anything new recently," he said honestly. "You guys already know everything I've made. Nothing to showcase tonight."
The entire gathering immediately protested.
"Oh, come on!" Ginny called out. "That's not fair. You always have something."
The crowd turned toward him with expectant, excited faces.
Harry raised both hands, shaking his head with a small, sheepish smile. "Sorry, guys. I haven't made anything new recently. You already know everything I've worked on. Nothing to showcase tonight."
A collective groan of disbelief rose from the group.
"Come on!" Ron shouted. "That's rubbish. You're always working on something!"
Hermione crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Harry, you literally just came back from somewhere. You expect us to believe you didn't make anything?"
Harry shrugged, still smiling calmly. "I really haven't. Promise."
The twins weren't having it. They bounded off the stage and tried to physically drag him toward it.
"No way!" Fred insisted. "You're not getting out of this!"
George nodded vigorously. "We demand a Harry showcase! The people want it!"
Harry laughed, gently but firmly resisting their attempts to pull him forward. "I'm serious. I don't have anything new to show right now. You guys already know all my stuff."
They kept pushing, the crowd cheering them on with playful chants of "Harry! Harry!" But Harry remained steadfast, politely denying and stepping back whenever they tried to drag him onto the platform.
After several minutes of relentless twin pressure and group encouragement, even Fred and George finally gave up, throwing their hands up in defeat.
"Fine, fine!" Fred said dramatically. "Keep your secrets, Potter!"
George sighed theatrically. "We'll get you next time."
Harry just chuckled and gave them a mock salute. "Looking forward to it."
The party continued without him on stage. People went back to chatting, eating, and enjoying the warm evening. The floating drink trays kept circulating, the cooking station stayed busy with on-demand orders, and laughter filled the air once more and Harry quietly disapparated away.