"…So what you mean is, you want to read it?" Edward's mouth twitched. He had already been preparing to rest, yet somehow Steven suddenly appeared, and now he even wanted to see the continuation of the Harry Potter story.
Looking at his older brother's expectant expression, Edward really couldn't bring himself to refuse. After all, technically speaking, this whole thing did start because of him. His poor big brother couldn't go mining anymore and was forced to come here instead.
Edward pinched the space between his brows, then sat up and began writing the storyline of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
…
On a certain night, moonlight scattered over the bare branches of the old oak tree standing beside Number Four, Privet Drive. Harry Potter lay on his bed, longing for the upcoming term at Hogwarts. But he never expected that a breathtaking adventure was quietly approaching.
The wind outside suddenly turned sharp and piercing, like ghostly whispers that shattered the silence of the night. Harry jolted awake, his heart jumping to his throat. A chill he had never felt before crawled over him, as if something terrible was about to happen.
He opened the window and saw chaos in the distance. Owls were flying in panic, and the street lamps flickered erratically, as though being manipulated by an invisible hand. A black shadow slid across the sky like a phantom, ghostly murmurs drifting in the wind. That bone-chilling sensation made Harry's entire body tremble. He remembered a dangerous creature Dumbledore once mentioned—Dementors. Could it be…
The next second, fear surged over him like a tidal wave. Two dark shapes, like enormous bats, slowly descended from the sky, bringing with them a cold, oppressive wind.
Instinctively, Harry grabbed his wand from the bedside table and shouted, his voice trembling, "Expecto Patronum!"
But nothing happened. Terror drowned him completely. He had never felt so helpless. The memories of his parents dying before him rushed back like a nightmare.
Harry shut his eyes in despair. But just then, a clear, bell-like cry echoed from afar. He opened his eyes in shock and saw a silver light breaking through the darkness, clashing fiercely with the Dementors.
The light grew brighter and brighter until it drove the creatures away completely. Harry stared blankly in the direction of that silver glow, his heart filled with confusion and gratitude.
The next day, he went to the Dursleys' house and tried explaining the previous night's incident to Uncle Vernon, only to be mocked and beaten by Dudley instead. In this prejudice-filled, cold household, no one could understand his pain.
Just then, Hedwig flew into the room with an urgent letter. Harry opened it and learned that the Ministry of Magic was summoning him for a hearing, accusing him of violating the Underage Magic Restriction due to the spell he cast last night.
…
In the spring of 1995, inside the cold interrogation chamber of the Department of Mysteries, Harry stood before a huge mirror. The memory of the Dementor attack surged within him like a restless tide. Cornelius Fudge flipped through documents with an expressionless face. His gaze was cold and sharp, as though trying to see through Harry completely.
"Potter, do you admit to using magic without permission to defend yourself?" The official's voice echoed through the chamber—icy, stern, and unforgiving.
Harry lowered his head, his fists clenched tightly. His heart surged with anger and helplessness. He remembered the terrifying Dementors, remembered what he had endured simply to protect himself. "I had no choice!" Harry argued loudly, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
Just as Fudge was about to announce Harry's expulsion, Dumbledore entered like a savior. Leaning on his iconic Elder Wand, with snow-white hair and wise, resolute eyes, he said firmly, "I believe Harry. His actions were in self-defense."
With Dumbledore's testimony and Cornelius Fudge's reluctant compromise, Harry avoided expulsion from Hogwarts. However, he had not escaped his nightmares.
As he left the Ministry, he overheard several wizards whispering to one another. He vaguely heard Voldemort's name like a poisonous serpent stirring ripples in the depths of his heart.
After returning to Hogwarts, Harry found the school enveloped in an eerie tension. Professor McGonagall's expression had grown solemn, and students whispered among themselves.
Worst of all, Dolores Umbridge, an ugly woman in every sense, slithered into Hogwarts like a venomous snake. She brought with her tedious "Educational Decrees," replaced practical Defense Against the Dark Arts with dull theory, and banned all real combat practice.
Facing Umbridge's oppression, Harry never surrendered. He knew that to protect himself and his classmates, they needed real defensive skills. But each time the spark of resistance lit in his heart, Umbridge's custom-made wand lashed mercilessly across his skin, leaving deep scars—as though mocking his audacity.
Just when Harry began to sink into despair, Hermione appeared like a ray of light piercing through darkness. She suggested forming a secret study group, the "Dumbledore's Army", allowing students to practice real defensive magic in private.
Seeing Hermione's determination, Harry felt a sliver of hope and agreed without hesitation.
…
After Dolores Umbridge seized power, Hogwarts fell into suffocating silence. It was as if the entire castle was blanketed under gloom. She rewrote school rules, issued endless Educational Decrees, labeled Harry and Dumbledore as "liars," and used her blood-stained quill to cruelly punish any student she disliked.
Even more outrageous, she completely banned practical Defense Against the Dark Arts training, leaving students utterly defenseless against Voldemort and his followers.
During these dark days, Harry felt unprecedented helplessness and fury. He yearned to resist but did not know how. "We can't just sit and wait for doom," Hermione said one night, entering Harry's dormitory with eyes full of resolve. "We must do something ourselves. We have to learn to protect ourselves."
Thus, a secret plan quietly sprouted in Harry and Hermione's hearts. They decided to form a student-led defense group. The news spread across the school like a gentle spring breeze. More and more students joined, brave Gryffindors, loyal Hufflepuffs, clever Ravenclaws. Under Harry's lead, they began practicing tirelessly, learning wand techniques, defensive spells, and survival skills.
This would later play a crucial role in the final battle. Edward found this part particularly interesting—after all, a group of little wizards defeating Death Eaters was admittedly a bit absurd, but what could you say? They trained for it, didn't they?
Just like that Marine "Effort King" next door—he put in three hundred percent effort and instantly became the new-generation Navy hero Oda wanted to portray.
Poor Garp… reduced to a stepping stone for the new era.
So, the fact that Harry Potter didn't turn Dumbledore into a stepping stone was already pretty generous.
Edward sighed, then continued writing while Steven watched curiously from the side.
…
As time passed, a name began to spread among the students, the "Dumbledore's Army." That name shone like a beacon of hope, illuminating the darkness in their hearts. They believed that as long as they stood united, they would surely overcome the forces of darkness.
But their actions did not escape Umbridge's notice. One late night, while the members of Dumbledore's Army were secretly gathering in their dormitory, Umbridge barged in with several Aurors. Her eyes were as cold and venomous as a snake as she glared at the students.
"Potter, I knew you'd pull something like this," she sneered, raising her wand. "You little brats dare to defy my orders!"
Harry stepped forward fearlessly. "Umbridge, you can't treat us like this!" His voice still carried the youthfulness of a boy, but his eyes were filled with unwavering courage. "We're Hogwarts students. We have the right to protect ourselves!"
Umbridge laughed coldly and swung her wand downward. A streak of red shot straight at Harry. He instinctively raised his wand to block it, but her magic was too powerful. A wave of pain shot through his chest, and his wand nearly flew from his hand.
At that moment, Hermione's voice rang out in panic: "Engorgio!" A streak of green light shot from her wand, transforming into a giant spider that pounced onto Umbridge.
Taking advantage of the chaos, other students cast spells in retaliation. Their magic was immature, but under Harry and Hermione's guidance, they fought with courage against Umbridge and the Aurors. Enraged, Umbridge hurled powerful spells like a rainstorm, blasting furniture and shattering windows.
After the fierce struggle, Umbridge stormed out of the dormitory, furious and vowing to capture every member of Dumbledore's Army. Harry surveyed the wrecked room and the injured students, his heart heavy with guilt—but he also knew they could not give up. Dumbledore's Army had to continue. It was Hogwarts' final line of defense.
…
Harry's inner world felt torn apart. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Sirius falling through the veil—that terrible moment, the shriek of the curse, Bellatrix's manic laughter, all wrapping around him like ghosts that would never release him.
Although he grew stronger through Dumbledore's Army's training, each time he saw injured classmates or students tormented by Umbridge, guilt washed over him like a crashing wave.
During Dumbledore's duel with Voldemort, Harry finally understood the mysterious and dangerous connection between their souls. They were bound by an invisible thread—one that frightened him yet stirred countless questions. What truth lay behind everything? What did the prophecy truly mean when it said, "Neither can live while the other survives"?
In this world filled with darkness and deception, Harry felt more isolated than ever.
But just before he was swallowed completely, Cho Chang appeared like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. They met in the Room of Requirement, surrounded by an atmosphere of mystery and fragile warmth.
Looking at Cho's beautiful face and bright, spirited eyes, Harry's defenses collapsed. Cho, moved by Harry's sincerity and bravery, drew closer as well. Two lonely hearts seeking warmth in a world crumbling around them.
But happiness never lasts. Marietta's betrayal struck like lightning from a clear sky, shattering the fragile love between them. Cho's betrayal inflicted a wound deeper than any curse.
Harry couldn't accept that someone he once trusted so deeply would sell him out. His heart felt torn apart, his eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Why?" he demanded hoarsely. But all he saw were Cho's tears and regret.
During breaks between Dumbledore's Army's training, Harry often retreated to a corner alone, letting the faint light of his wand brush over the deep scar on his hand—a mark left by Umbridge's bloody quill. The pain reminded him of his duty: to protect himself and his friends, this silent resistance had to continue.
During one late-night training session, Harry finally shared his disturbing recurring dreams with Hermione and Ron. Ron stared wide-eyed, unable to believe them. "Those dreams… they can't be Voldemort's doing, right?" Hermione, however, nodded thoughtfully.
"It's possible. We need to investigate." After discussion, they decided to use the Pensieve to uncover the truth.
…
At the Ministry of Magic, Harry walked through the corridors like a ghost. With every step, he felt the tension thickening in the air. Voldemort's presence loomed like an unseen shadow, chilling him to the bone. Harry gripped his wand tightly—nervous, yet restless with anticipation. Finally, he spotted a room radiating dark energy. Inside, Voldemort seemed to be working on some sinister magic experiment.
Just as Harry leaned closer to observe, he felt a fierce gaze lock onto him. He spun around to find Bellatrix Lestrange staring coldly at him, her lips curling into a cruel smile.
"Well well… little Potter. You dare to come here?"
Harry's heart clenched, but he forced himself to stay calm, retreating silently using a nonverbal spell—
But it was already too late.
"…That's it?" Steven blinked at Edward in disbelief. Edward nodded. Yes, that was indeed the end.
What followed afterward was simply Deathly Hallows I & II, and soon after would be the revelation of Snape's profound love. Edward hesitated. He wondered whether he should give Snape a What If route…
(End of Chapter)