After Mrs. Grindelwald spoke those words, the entire room fell into silence.
Everyone was struggling to process what she had just said.
The first to break the silence was Sirius.
"Huh?"
Looking utterly bewildered, he asked, "And who exactly are you claiming to be? Merlin? God? Don't make me laugh—there's no such thing as God in this world…"
"Whether you choose to admit it or not, the fact remains the same."
Mrs. Grindelwald smiled faintly, ignoring the wands leveled at her from all sides, and sat down in the guest's seat.
"Is this how you receive visitors?" she asked. "Or have you already forgotten what it means to be an elegant wizard, and instead chosen to behave like impolite apes?"
"I don't consider you a guest." Cassandra, standing behind Harry, retorted coldly.
Mrs. Grindelwald lifted her head to look at Cassandra, as if recalling something, before saying with sudden realization:
"Oh… it's you, Malfoy. So in this timeline, you're still alive and well, are you?"
"That's none of your concern," Cassandra replied icily. It was clear she had no fondness for this uninvited intruder.
"Indeed, you have little reason to welcome me, Miss Malfoy." Mrs. Grindelwald tilted her chin slightly. "Your family—the Malfoys—leaders among those who sought to defy my will… Let me think… disappeared without a trace nearly ninety years ago. Such a pity. We were classmates once, and yet you refused to follow me. Was it your pride that held you back? I do wonder."
Cassandra clenched her hands but said nothing.
"So that's why you disguised yourself as Death and hunted us down in our dreams?" Harry asked from the side.
"No." Mrs. Grindelwald raised a finger. "I have never disguised myself as Death, nor am I Death. I have no time for such petty theatrics. For me, the true pursuit has always been conquest—of all Europe, and indeed, the entire world."
She paused, and her tone shifted to something almost ironic.
"But amusingly enough, it seems that in this timeline, the so-called hero of the British Isles—Tom Riddle—is nothing more than a pitiful fugitive everyone wants dead…"
Even Mrs. Grindelwald seemed taken aback by the absurdity of it.
And truly, the thought of Tom Riddle as a hero resisting tyranny was something difficult for anyone to accept—even Albus Dumbledore.
"Incredible, isn't it…" James suddenly mused aloud. "Just imagine—if, and I mean if, our Voldemort were to meet that Tom Riddle, what on earth would they say to each other?"
He seemed completely unconcerned with the pressure Mrs. Grindelwald exuded, and his first instinct was to mock Voldemort.
Not that it was unexpected—after all, their three strongest fighters were compromised. Dumbledore was shaken by a single word—"Anna." Veratia couldn't attack her own counterpart. And Harry… was wielding magic Mrs. Grindelwald herself had devised.
So in such a situation, fear was pointless. What mattered was that Mrs. Grindelwald did not truly seem eager to fight them.
"And what would they say?" Sirius quickly chimed in, playing along as James's eternal partner-in-mischief.
"I, Tom Riddle, a grand hero, actually mentioned in the same breath as the likes of you…"
James trailed off, unable to hold back his laughter.
Harry didn't know what to say.
Dad, seriously… we're in the middle of a standoff here.
Could you not completely derail the mood?
"I'd be rather curious to hear it myself." Mrs. Grindelwald chuckled lightly.
She lifted her head and glanced at Dumbledore, then said, "It seems that in every timeline, Albus is destined never to stand on the same side as Tom Riddle."
"Why?" Harry suddenly felt a sense of foreboding.
"Yes, why?" Mrs. Grindelwald echoed softly, though she made no move to explain further.
She only said, "Tom Riddle is the last power in the British Isles still resisting me. I must admit, he is quite the thorn in my side. I haven't had the leisure to deal with him directly, so I left it to Albus and little Anna to carry out the suppression. But what I still fail to understand is—why do they resist so fiercely? Why refuse to join my empire?"
"Perhaps because what they want is freedom," Harry said, raising a brow.
"Hmph." Mrs. Grindelwald only gave a cold snort and fell silent.
She did not bother to refute him. To her, so-called freedom was nothing more than another mask for the pursuit of power.
Harry let it drop and moved to Veratia's side.
"How are you holding up?" he whispered.
"Use the method I taught you before," Veratia murmured back, her face flushed. "That Christmas… fifth year… when I taught you how to tie me up…"
Her ears burned red even as she spoke. It was undeniably embarrassing to bring up.
Harry touched his wand to the ropes binding her. He remembered that night all too well—and knew he would never forget it for as long as he lived.
"How touching… such a heartfelt display of love…"
Mrs. Grindelwald sat cross-legged in her chair, her gaze mocking as she watched them.
"Potter, why don't we strike a bargain?" she said suddenly.
"What kind of bargain?" Harry asked warily.
"You…" Her lips curled into a smile. "Hand over your little girlfriend to me, and in return, I shall use my power to protect Sweating and Malfoy… even your parents. What do you say? Just surrender the other me."
"Not a bad offer."
Harry nodded—and grinned.
"But I refuse."
Mrs. Grindelwald raised a brow at him.
"I know you too well, Mrs. Grindelwald," Harry said thoughtfully. "Remember? In the spring of our fifth year, when we went to wipe out the Ashwinder gang—you said the exact same thing to their leader. Of course… he took the deal. And you—"
"And I broke my word. Didn't I?" Mrs. Grindelwald narrowed her eyes.
"Perhaps that's your greatest flaw, Madam." Harry shrugged.
Veratia was a skilled huntress, but she had one clear weakness—she loved to toy with her prey.
It wasn't the first time; it had happened at the Ashwinder camp, and again at the poachers' den.
Back then, Harry had thought it was just her way of releasing pent-up tension. He never said much. He wasn't her mother, after all, to warn her: don't play with your food.
Mrs. Grindelwald's expression darkened.
"Do you see, Veratia?" she said in thickly accented English, her voice dripping with scorn. "This is how Potter sees you. Pathetic, isn't it?"
"Pathetic?" Veratia smiled faintly. "I don't think so."
"That doesn't mean I don't love her, Mrs. Grindelwald." Harry raised his wand again. "No matter what kind of person Veratia is, I will never waver in my love for her. Which is why… I'll protect her—until the very end!"
Veratia froze.
She hadn't expected Harry to bare his heart to her—and to her other self—at such a moment.
Poppy Sweating and Cassandra were stunned as well. The former's jaw dropped so far it nearly hit her chest; the latter curled her lip in disdain, radiating jealousy so strong it almost overflowed into the whole alchemy room.
"Well said, son!"
James cheered, clapping like a gorilla.
"You've made your father proud!" he added enthusiastically.
"That's the spirit!" Sirius chimed in.
James was increasingly pleased with his son—his magical talent, his character, everything. No wonder three girls were hopelessly smitten with him.
"I see now," Mrs. Grindelwald said, a sly glint flashing in her eyes.
Just then, Master Flamel pressed a switch on the wall.
The room suddenly blazed with light. Crimson runes appeared on the ceiling and beneath Mrs. Grindelwald's feet, radiating immense magical power.
Green vines crept up the chair, swiftly binding her in place.
Mrs. Grindelwald looked up, then down at the glowing floor.
"Is this how you treat an old friend, Master Flamel?"
"I had no choice. I hope you understand," Flamel said—but not a trace of apology touched his face.
"You think a single magic circle is enough to hold me?" Mrs. Grindelwald asked calmly.
"Perhaps not hold you," Flamel replied cheerfully, "but it will certainly suppress your magic."
Mrs. Grindelwald gave him a long, searching look, then turned her eyes to Harry.
Her form grew fainter, dissolving like mist into the air.
"Let's hope you hold to that resolve, Potter… And Albus—my offer still stands. If you abandon the dark, I will reunite you with Anna."
When she finally vanished, Harry let out a long breath.
The pressure she radiated had been overwhelming.
Never had Harry felt such a desperate need to become stronger. Not for himself—but so he could protect Veratia.
If Mrs. Grindelwald came again, he could not afford to be this helpless, relying only on her whims.
"Why didn't you bring out that magic circle sooner?" Sirius asked, still pale. He even cast a wary glance at Veratia, thinking that his future daughter-in-law, for all her edge, didn't radiate anything close to that.
"Because she hadn't sat down yet." Flamel was sweating too, clutching at his aging heart.
Sirius: …
Well. Hard to argue with that.
"Thank you, Harry," Veratia whispered.
Harry looked at her, reached out, and clasped her soft hand.
"It's what I had to do," he said with a smile. "Because I'm a man."
At that moment, Lily appeared with a group of house-elves, carrying trays and dishes.
"What just happened?" she asked curiously. "Why couldn't I leave the kitchen? Jesus, I thought something was wrong! Thank goodness I could get out in the end…"
"It was nothing," Veratia said quickly—she had no desire for her mother-in-law to hear tales of her darker self.
James had been eager to recount everything, but seeing Veratia's reluctance, he wisely held his tongue.
"Try some, Sirius," Lily said, placing a plate in front of him. "It's what you used to love. Sorry—I didn't have time to prepare much."
"This is more than enough." Sirius accepted the plate happily.
Dinner was warm and lively. Apart from Dumbledore, who wore a pensive expression, and Snape, whose face was as sour as ever, everyone chatted with enthusiasm—even Cassandra.
Lily, ever the peacemaker, made sure the aloof girl (perhaps great-aunt, perhaps not) didn't feel excluded, engaging her in conversation now and then. And truly, Lily's gentle warmth worked wonders—by the end of the meal, Cassandra had begun to warm to her.
"Could you… not leave?"
The first to speak after dinner was Cassandra—and no one could have guessed she would be the one to ask them to stay.
"We still have a fate to fulfill." Lily smiled softly, brushing Cassandra's hair back. "But perhaps we'll meet again someday."
"…Alright." Cassandra's eyes grew red as she looked at Lily, reluctant to let her go.
"Well then…" Sirius's voice trembled as he placed the Desiderium Stone on the table.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
James and Lily nodded, holding hands tightly.
Harry closed his eyes, lifted the stone, and smashed it against the ground.
At once, Lily and James's figures began to fade from sight.
Sirius collapsed onto the floor, drained of strength.
Ring, ring, ring…
The phone rang, waking the still-sleeping Potters.
"Hello?"
James picked up the receiver.
It was Sirius.
"Mm," James said. "Mm… yes, I know. Right. Padfoot."
He turned his head. Lily was nodding at him encouragingly.
"I just had a dream…" James murmured.
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