"Harry! Where are you!? Harry!"
Hermione couldn't find him.
Moody, having shaken off a brief fainting spell, returned to the fight. He pressed a hand on Ron's shoulder and pointed. "That way—you need to get out!"
Ron shook his head stubbornly. "No, Harry's still here."
That defiance seemed like a Gryffindor specialty. Moody looked as if he wanted to argue, but a charging Death Eater caught his attention.
The mist clouded their sight, yet in a way it gave them cover as well.
Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, then dashed into the fog to search for Harry.
Seeing them go, Ginny started after them. After a short run, she collided with someone.
She reached for her wand—only to hear a familiar voice, one that filled her with safety.
"Miss Weasley, I need you to stay by my side."
Ginny looked up in astonishment, her heart leaping.
"Professor Dumbledore!"
A Death Eater charged straight at them—only to slam headlong into the calm-faced old wizard.
"Dum—Dumbledore!" The Death Eater didn't think twice; he spun on his heel and fled.
Dumbledore flicked his wand, and with a casual, floating spell, yanked a Death Eater straight toward him.
Before the man could even react, the battle-hardened Death Eater was subdued.
That was Dumbledore's true power.
Ginny's eyes practically sparkled with admiration.
Moody, spotting Dumbledore, felt his fighting spirit surge.
It was like opening mystery boxes—one by one, Death Eaters stumbled into the mist, only for Dumbledore, wielding the Elder Wand, to point them out with perfect precision.
Almost every encounter ended the same way: a terrified scream, then instant defeat.
Ginny's face flushed with excitement, and beside her, Luna was throwing little practice punches in the air.
The mist seemed powerless to cloud Dumbledore's sight—he unfailingly pinpointed every Death Eater's position.
Soon enough, nearly all the Death Eaters in the Hall of Death were subdued.
Tonks had already fallen unconscious, leaving only Kingsley barely holding on.
Bellatrix was hurling curses at the big black dog, spitting venom with every word.
"Dumbledore!"
Lucius, just about to finish off Kingsley, caught sight of the old man strolling calmly out of the mist to stand right behind him.
He immediately pulled out of the fight and bolted toward the back.
Drogon, seeing his boss make a run for it, quickly chased after him.
The other two Death Eaters were slower to react, and Kingsley seized the chance to strike one down.
The other was yanked back through the air as if hooked by an invisible fishing line.
After casting off two spells, Bellatrix noticed what was happening as well.
Mad as she was, the thrill of killing Sirius had her shrieking with laughter as she tore off after them like a deranged banshee.
The mist slowly began to clear.
Harry's anguished scream rang out.
Dumbledore instantly abandoned the pursuit of the three fleeing Death Eaters and turned back.
On the dais, Harry stood in despair.
Sirius was slipping further and further into the veil.
Just a breath away from falling through, Sirius's body suddenly twisted—"Arrrgh!"
—and with a scream, he was hurled back out of the archway.
Harry froze.
What was going on?
His emotions had already been pushed to the brink—was he supposed to cry or not?
Caught in that tangle, Harry's expression twisted awkwardly.
But then he snapped back to himself and looked toward his godfather.
"Oww—my back, my fucking back…"
Sirius was clutching his old injury, writhing and crawling awkwardly in the shadows.
Getting kicked four times in the same spot—who could even understand that pain?
Still, the one bit of luck was that the kick had saved his life.
For a moment, his feelings were a complete mess.
"Don't run!"
Before Sirius could even process who had kicked him, he heard Harry shouting furiously in one direction.
Startled, he tried to get up, but the combination of his old wound and the lingering effects of the earlier Petrificus curse left him unable to move.
All he could do was watch as that reckless godson of his charged after Bellatrix alone, wand in hand.
"Harry, come back!" he shrieked.
Harry had already lost himself to rage—just moments ago, Sirius had nearly been killed by Bellatrix.
He was terrified, feeling as though his godfather could vanish at any second.
Clenching his teeth through the pain, Sirius shouted, "Moony, stop him!"
With the mist dispersing, Lupin immediately rushed after Harry.
Dumbledore raised his wand and cast a spell at Bellatrix.
But Bellatrix, Voldemort's most capable lieutenant, lived up to her reputation. She deflected the spell and fired back, striking Kingsley.
Lucius, meanwhile, was crawling and stumbling his way toward the uppermost door.
With the mist cleared, a few Death Eaters still remained, and Dumbledore had no choice but to subdue them first before going after Harry.
Lupin was already in pursuit—he should be able to handle it.
The Order had taken heavy damage in this battle. Even the legendary Auror Moody had been hit by several curses, twice left incapacitated.
Tonks lay unconscious, and Kingsley was injured as well.
Sirius curled up on the high platform, pounding the ground as he struggled to stand.
Once everything was settled, Dumbledore went to search for Harry, leaving Kingsley in charge of securing the scene.
...
[Ding, Blood of Magic has ended]
[Phoenix Traits Acquired: Nirvana, Undying, Fire Affinity, Ancient]
[Nirvana: Release the flames of rebirth to resurrect.]
[Undying: Enhanced resistance, able to withstand most curse-type attacks.]
[Fire Affinity: Greatly amplifies the power of fire-based magic.]
[Ancient: Lifespan extended immensely.]
Some things could only be known by trying.
Like John—he didn't know if he would truly die, or if he would be reborn.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he made a bold choice.
A choice so mad that no one else would ever dare attempt it.
He killed himself.
He was gambling—gambling on whether the system's existence relied on his body, his soul, or his consciousness.
And so, he cast a spell, one of his own creation.
Redi, o anima errans.
He pulled his soul free from his body, hiding it within the Constellation Society.
His body's death froze at sunset, while his soul returned to the stars.
In that moment, he gained the ability to walk between the living and the dead.
A force tugged at his body, trying to drag it away from Hogwarts.
Once the system finished its settlement, he simply let go of the restraint.
He was curious, after all—curious about that place between life and death.
He had scoured all of Hogwarts' collections, even hunted down lone volumes that existed elsewhere.
About that world after death, and that archway that seemed to connect to the underworld.
When John appeared in the Hall of Death, he could be certain—he had been inside before.
Or rather, he had forgotten everything.
He had walked through death, and those memories remained behind with it.
His soul reshaped a body within the flames, crossing back through the doorway of death.
When he regained life, he was like a phoenix reborn—returning as a fledgling, growing again from embryo into man.
The rebirth was long and drawn out. He walked down a path unending.
The whole process was hazy. He experienced something in that world, yet could not bring the memories back.
"James..."
"The hell you James-ing for?"
John had just returned from death when he kicked aside the nuisance blocking his path.
The sensation beneath his foot felt strangely familiar.
Then came a cry—it sounded a lot like Harry.
Oh, right. Harry was at the Ministry.
John stepped forward, though some force behind him kept trying to hold him back.
Swoosh!
But when it touched the phoenix fire burning on his body, it recoiled.
"I think we'll meet again."
He wasn't sure who he was speaking to, but a smile tugged at his lips as he stepped out through the archway.
...
"Harry, wait for me." Sirius had struggled for a long time, but at last he managed to push himself to his feet.
Kingsley was tending to his wounds with magic, and Tonks was waking up.
Hermione and Ron, worried for Harry, chased after him.
With the mist dispersed, everything seemed to return to calm.
"Sirius, behind you."
Tonks looked up without thinking, her voice trembling.
Sirius froze. He turned toward her and asked, "There's something behind me, isn't there?"
Slowly, he turned—and was met with a familiar face.
"Looks like we meet again." Flames burned across John's body, fading away to reveal skin returning to its normal state.
Bare-chested, he rubbed at his neck and muttered with wonder, "Damn.. What a strange feeling."
Everyone stared at him in shock.
Swoosh!
The vanished mist rose again, wrapping around John.
When it cleared, six more people stood at his side.
John took the small pouch Fleur handed over, gave it a pat, and clothes flew out to dress him neatly.
He raised his right hand, and Fleur stepped gracefully forward, slipping a silver ring onto his finger.
On his left, Cedric offered him his wand.
Malfoy, face grim, came over and clasped his right hand in a hard shake. He fought back the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes and muttered, "You never told me—you were Johnny Silverhand!"
John shrugged. "I couldn't exactly tell you I was your godfather, could I?"
Malfoy's face darkened. He shouted, "I never agreed to that!"
John raised a brow in surprise. "If I hadn't refused, do you really think your words would've made a difference?"
Ouch. That one stung—Malfoy looked like an utterly baffled puppy.
Still, even in their teasing, their eyes shone only with joy.
He was back!
John was truly back.
Percy took out the golden cup and asked, "What do we do now?"
"Of course, we continue with our plan."
Glancing at the dumbstruck Sirius, John added casually, "Dumbledore should just about be facing his opponent by now. The Death Eaters here are basically dealt with."
He turned his gaze back to Sirius, who still hadn't snapped out of it, and smiled.
"Surprised, are you? I came back from death itself."
The Constellations gathered around their king—the radiant star of Hogwarts—returned from the realm of the dead.
...
Harry didn't know where the strength or courage came from, but he chased Bellatrix with everything he had.
From the Department of Mysteries, their pursuit carried all the way into the atrium of the Ministry.
And at the same time, Voldemort received word.
John Wick was dead. Which meant his enemies were now one fewer.
________
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