The Hogwarts Express bustled with students as Harry made his way down the corridor, searching for Luna and the others. The train had filled up quickly, and finding an empty compartment was nearly impossible. Finally, he spotted a familiar head of blonde hair through the window of one of the doors.
Sliding it open, he stepped inside to find Luna, Neville, Theo, and Blaise already seated.
"You're late, Potter," Theo drawled lazily, smirking as Harry dropped into the seat next to Luna.
"Had to dodge a few last-minute Weasley encounters," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. "Didn't fancy getting shoved into a compartment with Ron."
Blaise chuckled. "Understandable. We were just discussing plans for this year."
"Plans?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
Theo leaned forward. "Keeping an eye on Black, for one. If he's really after you, we need to be prepared."
Blaise nodded. "And there's still the matter of our research. The more we learn from the Chamber, and what Dumbledore's been up to, the better."
Harry sighed. "Agreed. But let's not make the entire train ride about doom and gloom. Let's at least pretend we're normal students for a while."
"Well, the Moonsap is thriving," Neville said excitedly, "its luminescent properties are even stronger than I expected. If we refine it correctly, it could enhance night-vision potions or even be used in moonstone-infused spellwork."
Blaise nodded. "And the Silphium? Any luck?"
"It's growing, but it's finicky. Apparently, it used to be a major component in high-level healing potions and even had contraceptive properties before it supposedly went extinct. The fact that we have it now is a miracle."
Luna twirled a quill between her fingers. "Perhaps it remembers what happened to the others of its kind and is reluctant to grow. Plants have memories, you know."
Harry chuckled. "Maybe. I was thinking about using my earth magic to coax some of the other seeds to life, but I wanted to see if someone who doesn't have my magic could do it first so we can document its natural growth."
Neville looked thoughtful. "It might take longer without your help, but that's a solid approach. If they do grow without intervention, then we can eventually cultivate them on a larger scale. If not… well, then you'll have to work your magic. Literally."
Blaise smirked. "Either way, once we get enough Moonsap, I think it could be refined into a shielding balm against lunar-based curses. Some werewolves use diluted versions in Wolfsbane potions."
Harry leaned back, considering. "Good to know. If we get enough yield, we could test its other applications too. Imagine Snapes face when he finds out Neville brought back extinct plants."
The group exchanged nods, then all burst out laughing.
They spent the next hour in light-hearted conversation, sharing stories about their summers. Luna, as always, had the most whimsical tales to tell, including an encounter with what she claimed was a moonfrog colony that danced under starlight.
Just as Harry was about to bring up the ridiculous outfits Luna had convinced him to buy, she suddenly froze.
Her eyes became unfocused, her expression slack, and then her lips parted as she whispered, "Harry…"
The atmosphere in the compartment shifted. Harry sat up straighter, his stomach tightening. "Luna?"
"They're coming…" she murmured. "They're coming…"
"Shh it's okay Luna. We're okay." Harry said, wrapping his arms around her. The others looking worried having never really seen Luna go into one of her visions.
A shiver ran down his spine, and then he noticed it—the temperature had dropped. His breath came out in misty puffs. The warmth of the compartment was being sucked away, leaving only an unnatural cold.
Everyone stiffened, eyes darting toward the door.
A shadow passed outside the glass.
Luna's breathing hitched. "No, no, no," she whimpered.
Harry felt something stir within him, his magic pulsing in warning.
Then a skeletal hand gripped the carriage door and slowly, agonisingly pulled it open.
Darkness seeped into the compartment like a living force. A hooded figure loomed in the doorway, its very presence suffocating.
Harry's vision blurred.
Screaming.
A woman's voice, desperate, terrified. Take me instead! Not Harry, please not Harry!
Somewhere distant, Luna's voice echoed the same words, her normally serene tone rising to a near-hysterical shriek. Take me instead! Not Harry!
He barely registered Theo and Neville frozen in place, Blaise paling as if all warmth had been drained from him.
The Dementor drifted closer.
Harry's body felt heavy. He couldn't move. Cold tendrils wrapped around his mind, pulling him down into the memories of that night—
The green flash.
His mother's cry.
The nothingness that followed.
And then—
Light.
Blinding, pure, warm.
The Dementor recoiled violently, darkness retreating as a wave of luminous energy flooded the compartment.
Harry collapsed back against his seat as the figure in the doorway was forcibly pushed away, leaving only an echoing screech in its wake.
His vision blurred, the sounds around him distant. A warmth touched his cheek—Luna's hand, trembling slightly.
Then the world tilted, and everything went dark.
The world swam back into focus, blurry shapes gradually sharpening into the dimly lit compartment. Harry groaned, his head pounding, his body cold to the bone. The first thing he registered was warmth—Luna, clinging to him like a lifeline, her entire body trembling. Her usually bright eyes were blank, distant, and she hadn't spoken a word since the Dementor left.
A quiet rustling caught his attention. A man in shabby clothes was handing out chocolate, his expression weary but kind. He pressed a piece into Harry's hand.
"Eat," the man said simply.
Harry looked at the chocolate, then at Luna. Instead of immediately eating it himself, he broke off a piece and gently pressed it into her hand, his fingers curling around hers.
"Luna, come on," he urged softly. "You need to eat."
She didn't react, just stared through him, her fingers barely responding to his touch. A deep unease settled in Harry's chest. This wasn't just the Dementor—this was her. Her visions were getting worse. More frequent. More consuming.
Instead of going to the welcoming feast, Harry made a decision. "You lot go ahead," he told Theo, Neville, and Blaise. "I'm taking Luna to Pomfrey."
None of them argued. Neville looked particularly worried, but he nodded in understanding.
Guiding Luna carefully off the train and through the castle corridors, Harry ignored the curious looks from passing students. When they reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey took one look at Luna and pursed her lips.
"Set her down over there," she instructed, pointing to a bed. "What happened?"
"Dementors," Harry said shortly. "But this—" He gestured to Luna's still form.
Pomfrey waved her wand, running diagnostic spells over her before sighing. "Her mind is overloaded. Her magic's reacting violently to whatever she experienced. It's like an aftershock—her body is struggling to process it all."
Harry's stomach twisted. "How do we fix it?"
"Rest. Something warm. Something familiar." Pomfrey disappeared for a moment before returning with a small vial. "This will help settle her mind. But she needs time."
Harry took the vial, helping Luna drink it slowly, but she remained silent, her fingers barely twitching in his grasp.
That night, when the feast was in full swing, a house elf popped into the infirmary with two plates of food, bowing low before placing them on the bedside table. "Mister Harry Potter must eat too."
He murmured his thanks, but barely touched his food, instead focusing on Luna, brushing her hair back from her face, whispering quiet reassurances she didn't respond to.
Hours passed. Midnight came and went. Then—
A soft inhale. A twitch of fingers. A slow blink.
Harry sat up straighter. "Luna?"
Her unfocused gaze shifted to him, her voice hoarse and barely audible. "Lily Potter loved you so much."
Harry's breath caught. He swallowed against the lump in his throat. "I wish you didn't have to see these things."
Luna's lips trembled, her fingers tightening around his. "I think… I was meant to."
Harry didn't respond, just leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers.
They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other in the quiet sanctuary of the hospital wing.
~
The morning after the Dementor attack, Harry and Luna sat at the Ravenclaw table, still feeling the weight of the previous night. Their housemates chattered around them, filling them in on what they had missed at the Welcoming Feast.
"You should've seen it," Terry Boot said, passing them a plate of toast. "The new Defence professor, Lupin, looked half-asleep when he was introduced. Didn't say a word, just nodded."
"But at least he's not Lockhart," Padma added with a smirk.
Harry hummed in response, not quite in the mood for conversation. He reached for his goblet of pumpkin juice when a stack of schedules landed in front of him and Luna.
Scanning his timetable, Harry immediately noticed something wrong.
"I didn't sign up for Divination," he said, eyes narrowing.
Luna blinked at him. "It must be a mistake."
Professor Flitwick approached their table, catching the tail end of their conversation. He frowned as he looked at Harry's schedule.
"That's odd," Flitwick murmured. "I was informed that you had dropped Runes and Arithmancy. Dumbledore himself approved the change."
Harry's grip tightened on his parchment. "I never dropped them. I was never asked."
Flitwick's eyes darkened slightly, irritation evident in his usually cheerful expression. "I will fix this immediately, Mr. Potter. For today, follow the schedule as you originally intended. Attend Runes, Arithmancy and creatures with the others."
Harry nodded, filled with frustration. Another mark against Dumbledore. What is he up to?
Later that afternoon, Harry made his way to his first Care of Magical Creatures lesson. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he saw Hagrid standing at the front of the class, beaming.
The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs gathered around as Hagrid clapped his hands together. "Right, today we're gonna start with somethin' special—Hippogriffs!"
Excited murmurs filled the air as Hagrid led them toward a paddock where a magnificent silver Hippogriff stood, watching them with intelligent eyes.
"This here's Buckbeak," Hagrid introduced proudly. "First thing yeh gotta remember—hippogriffs are proud creatures. Yeh approach 'em slow, make eye contact, and bow. If they bow back, yer good. If not, best step away."
Hagrid's gaze swept over the class before settling on Harry. "Harry, why don't yeh come up first?"
Harry hesitated before stepping forward. He met Buckbeak's gaze and bowed deeply. The Hippogriff's piercing orange eyes studied him for a long moment before it lowered its head in return.
A grin broke across Hagrid's face. "Well done, Harry! Now, try givin' him a little pat."
Moving cautiously, Harry stroked the Hippogriff's beak, feeling the rough texture beneath his fingers. Buckbeak let out a soft snort, shifting his weight.
"Go on, climb on," Hagrid encouraged.
"Wait. What?"
Harry barely had time to react before Buckbeak nudged him forward. Hagrid lifted him like a sack of potatoes over the Hippogriff's back.
Then, without warning, Buckbeak spread his powerful wings and launched into the sky.
The ground fell away beneath them as they soared into the air. The wind whipped past Harry's face, and he let out a laugh, gripping Buckbeak's feathers tightly.
"Faster!" he called, exhilarated.
As if understanding him, Buckbeak responded, angling his wings to pick up speed. Harry's heart pounded in his chest. This was like flying with Nox. The sheer freedom of the skies.
For a few blissful moments, there was nothing but the wind, the rush of air, and the weightless thrill of flight. Memories of the previous night fleeing with the wind.
After circling the paddock, Buckbeak glided back to the ground, landing smoothly. Harry slid off, his grin wide.
"That was brilliant, Hagrid!"
"Knew yeh'd like it!" Hagrid boomed. "Who's next?"
As the class ended, Harry returned to his friends, still buzzing from the experience.
As they were leaving, they passed the Gryffindors and Slytherins arriving for their lesson.
Theo smirked at him. "You looked very at home up there, Potter. Getting ideas about replacing your broom?"
Harry snorted. "No broom could compare."
~
Rumours of Draco's injury spread through the school like wildfire, but anyone with eyes could see he was exaggerating. He paraded through the halls, arm in a sling, dramatically sighing whenever a professor was near. Harry and his friends barely paid him any mind, focusing instead on their upcoming lessons.
Their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson was shared with the Gryffindors. The classroom buzzed with anticipation as Lupin stood at the front, casual yet commanding.
"Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?" he asked, scanning the room.
Harry raised his hand and, at Lupin's nod, answered, "A boggart is a shape-shifter that takes the form of whatever frightens a person the most."
Lupin smiled approvingly, but across the room, Hermione shot Harry a glare. He met it evenly, remembering that she was a thief who had been hoarding stolen Potter heirlooms. He made a mental note to have Tilly search her trunk later.
Lupin instructed the class to form a line as he rolled out an old wardrobe. "The best way to defeat a boggart is laughter. The spell to use is Riddikulus. Now, let's begin."
Harry quickly moved to the back of the line, unwilling to show his fear in front of everyone. With all his secrets, he couldn't afford to. He watched as Neville faced his boggart, which transformed into Snape, only for him to dress it in his grandmother's clothes, prompting laughter from the class. Parvati's boggart became a giant cobra, which she turned into a comically wiggling jack-in-the-box.
When his turn was inevitable, he tried to refuse, stepping back with a firm shake of his head. Lupin's gaze darkened, but he didn't argue, merely flicked his wand, forcing Harry forward.
The wardrobe rattled ominously before bursting open. At first, what emerged was Luna—her form draped in ancient robes, eyes clouded and unseeing, muttering unintelligibly like a maddened Priestess of Pythia.
Harry's breath hitched. Cold dread seeped into his bones. The boggart flickered, feeding off his fear, twisting his perception. Then, the sensation changed.
The room chilled as a deep, suffocating cold wrapped around him. The boggart shifted, melting into a Dementor. The light dimmed, the air thickened, and the echo of his mother's last scream whispered at the edge of his hearing. The students gasped, clutching at their robes as the temperature plummeted.
Unlike the previous boggarts, this one felt stronger—almost too real. Shadows crept toward Harry, his mind spinning as the Dementor loomed closer, its presence overwhelming.
Lupin reacted instantly. With a flick of his wand, he shoved Harry aside, stepping between him and the boggart. The form changed immediately, morphing into a glowing, full moon before Lupin forced it back into the wardrobe with a snap. Warmth flooded back into the room, though a lingering discomfort remained. Harry turned a glare at Lupin, blaming him for everything that just happened.
"Class dismissed," Lupin announced hastily, his gaze slightly guilty as he looked at Harry.
Neville was visibly shaken, staring at Harry with wide eyes. "Why did it turn into Luna like that first?"
Harry forced himself to breathe evenly. "Because I'm afraid of losing her."
The answer sat heavily between them, unspoken fears hanging in the air. As they left the classroom, Harry clenched his fists.
As they sat in the warded room on the fourth floor, Harry exhaled sharply, his anger bubbling to the surface. "Lupin forced me in front of the boggart after I refused. I wasn't going to do it, and he made me. Who does that?" He clenched his fists.
Luna tilted her head slightly, her voice calm but firm. "It is done, Harry. The Wrackspurts will make them forget—or at least dismiss it as nothing important."
Theo scowled. "Still, forcing someone to confront their worst fear in front of a class? That's beyond reckless. What if the boggart had done something worse? What if it revealed something truly dangerous?"
Blaise crossed his arms. "I overheard some of the Gryffindors saying that it felt like a real dementor."
Neville nodded. "I felt it too. It wasn't just reacting to your fear, Harry. It was feeding off of it, like it knew exactly what to turn into to cause the most damage."
Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but I didn't like it. And I don't like that Lupin dismissed it like it was nothing."
Theo sighed. "We need to be careful. If someone starts pestering Luna..."
Luna smiled softly. "Don't worry. I can handle myself."
Harry exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I just…keep an ear out if you hear anything?"
~
Over the next couple of months, Harry and his friends spent their free time deep in the Chamber of Secrets, exploring its hidden magic and practicing duelling. The space provided them with complete privacy, allowing Harry to teach them spells that weren't covered in standard Hogwarts curriculum.
Harry had already told them the truth about his elemental abilities and wandless magic a while back, and rather than fear or scepticism, his friends had reacted with excitement. They begged him to teach them wandless magic, eager to learn. While it was difficult, they persisted, and Harry found himself enjoying their enthusiasm as they honed their skills together.
One evening, after an exhausting duelling session, Harry and Luna remained behind in the Chamber. The others had left, but Luna lingered near the statue of Salazar Slytherin, her eyes thoughtful and distant.
Harry approached her quietly. "Luna, let's ask Salazar if he knows anything about your visions. Maybe he can help."
Luna nodded, her usual dreamy expression subdued. She had been struggling more with her visions lately, and it was taking a visible toll on her.
They stepped into the library, heading towards the portrait. "Salazar, I have a question. Do you know anything about visions? Or anything about the Priestesses of Pythia?"
The portrait above the fireplace flickered to life, and Salazar Slytherin's sharp gaze fell upon them. "The Priestesses of Pythia… ancient seers, once the most powerful oracles in the world. They were hunted down by an ancient Greek wizard who feared their power."
Luna tilted her head slightly. "Who was he?"
Salazar's expression darkened. "A Greek Dark Lord named Ἕρπων ὁ δεινός, given the nickname of Herpo the Foul. He was given a prophecy detailing his demise, so he sought to erase all prophecy and chased after immortality, trying to defy the fates. He led a purge, burning their records, executing those of the bloodlines of Pythia. The daughters of Pythia scattered, forced into hiding. Those who survived… many of them went mad. Their magic consumed them."
Harry felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. He glanced at Luna, whose face remained eerily calm. "Is there any way to suppress the visions?"
Salazar hesitated before shaking his head. "Not that I know of. The gift of prophecy is not like ordinary magic—it does not bend to will. There have been efforts to dull its effects through potions and charms for seers, but nothing has ever truly suppressed a vision of an oracle."
Luna closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again, resigned. "I thought as much."
Salazar's expression softened slightly. "You have my sympathies, child. It is a heavy burden. One no child should have to bear."
Harry clenched his fists, hating that there was no solution. But if there was one thing he knew, it was that Luna wouldn't face this alone.
"We'll find a way," he promised her. "No matter what it takes."
~
Halloween night had always been an eventful time at Hogwarts, but this year, something felt different. Professor Flitwick gathered all the students out of their beds, his usually cheerful demeanour grim. The Ravenclaws murmured among themselves, exchanging worried glances as they were led down the corridors and into the Great Hall.
Harry and Luna immediately scanned the crowd for their friends, his heart easing slightly when he spotted them standing near the Ravenclaw table. He quickly made his way through the students to join them.
"What's going on?" Harry whispered.
Neville looked shaken, his face paler than usual. "Black. He tried breaking into the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady wouldn't let him in, so he… he slashed her portrait."
Harry's breath caught. The hall was filled with murmurs, students exchanging panicked whispers.
"So he's actually here," Theo muttered, his brow furrowed. "This isn't just rumours anymore."
Blaise crossed his arms. "And yet, he didn't go after you, Harry. You're right here, untouched. If he really sold out your parents, why wouldn't he be hunting you down?"
Theo hesitated before nodding. "Unless… unless he thinks you're in Gryffindor."
They all shared heavy looks. "He's been in Azkaban for a long time. He probably has no idea where I was sorted."
Neville swallowed. "And that means he's not in his right mind anymore."
Harry exhaled slowly, piecing together what they knew.
"If he was really after me, he had plenty of chances," Harry whispers. "I think we've been right all along—we need to find him and find out the truth."
Luna was humming slightly then said, "Stubby Broadman isn't lost at all."
~
Harry had finally done it—Tilly had secretly searched through Hermione's belongings, and the results were worse than he had expected.
While he and his friends were deep in the Chamber of Secrets, searching for ways to track Black—whether through blood magic or the godfather bond he shared with Harry—Tilly popped in with an armful of old tomes. The moment she dropped them onto the stone table, dust scattered into the air.
"These belong to you, Master Harry," she said, her ears twitching with barely contained anger. "Taken from the thief."
The chamber fell into stunned silence.
Theo's eyes narrowed as he picked up one of the books, flipping through the pages before quickly putting it down. "These are Potter family histories."
Neville scowled, carefully handling another book. "The disrespect… These are sacred to your family, Harry. They had no right to take them."
Blaise's gaze sharpened as he inspected the collection. "Not just history books…" He lifted a heavy tome with a cracked spine. "A lot of these lean toward the darker arts. Why would Dumbledore, the so-called paragon of the Light, hand dark books over to a thirteen-year-old girl?"
Luna, who had been quietly running her fingers along the spine of a book covered in runic symbols, finally spoke. "Perhaps he wants her to have knowledge without the wisdom to wield it."
Harry clenched his fists. "I can't wait to file the charges against him."
As they continued flipping through the books with Harry's permission, something even more disturbing caught their attention. Scattered within the pages were sheets of parchment covered in Hermione's neat, cramped handwriting. They weren't just notes—they were obsessive.
Theo frowned as he scanned one of the pages. "She's been fixating on the Peverells. Look, she keeps mentioning 'ancient yews' and the 'House of Death.' She's marked every reference in these books."
"Why would she be researching about a bedtime story?" Blaise said looking sceptical.
"I need you all to swear an oath of secrecy before I tell you everything," making everyone but Luna widen their eyes in surprise.
One by one, his friends gave their oaths, magic sealing their words. Only then did Harry admit the truth. "I am Lord Peverell. I couldn't take up my other heirships, but the Peverell house was one Dumbledore didn't have to be told about. On the test it showed an unplottable Keep. "
Harry exhaled sharply. "I haven't found the Keep yet, but I know Dumbledore's been stealing from my vaults for years. This just confirms he's looking for something more."
Theo turned to Harry, "you know there hasn't been a Peverell Lord in centuries, right?"
"The house faded into legend. Even the Wizengamot seat has been inactive for centuries." Blaise added. "You don't know how to find the Keep?"
Luna chimed in then, repeating the poem "Follow the path of the ancient yew. Where the gates open, the bridge of the tree will guide you to the house of Death."
Neville tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Yew trees were common in ancient magical forests, but most of them were cut down for wand-making centuries ago. If the Keep was hidden in one of those forests…"
Harry nodded. "Which makes it more difficult to find. It would make sense why Dumbledore is so adamant about controlling my vaults if he knows the Potters descend from them. If he thinks the Keep holds something important…"
Luna tilted her head, her voice lilting with her usual dreamy wisdom. "A house that is no house, a place that is not a place. The Peverells were never meant to be found, not by anyone but the master."
Harry glanced at her, feeling the weight of her words.
Silence stretched across the room as the reality of his words sank in. Blaise was the first to speak. "Then that means… the Master of Death?"
Harry shook his head. "The story is just that—a story. But the Peverells had a strong affinity for artifact creation. Whatever they left behind is important, and Dumbledore wants it."
Theo exhaled, shaking his head. "Then we have to find it first."
Reluctantly, they organised their findings, stacking the books carefully before making their way back to the Great Hall. The weight of their discoveries pressed heavily upon them, but one thing was certain—Dumbledore would not get his hands on the Peverell legacy.
~
December had arrived, and with it came heavy snowfall and the first Hogsmeade trip of the season. Harry, however, had been refused. Apparently, since Petunia hadn't signed his slip, and with Black still on the loose, it was deemed "too dangerous" for him to go.
He had expected Ron to be denied the privilege as well after McGonagall had promised to punish him for what he had pulled in the Chamber of Secrets, but, as usual, Weasley seemed to get away with everything. He and Hermione were still harassing him at every turn, making the rejection even more infuriating. Hermione in particular was looking very frazzled and worried, looking at everyone in suspicion. Harry assumed it was because of the missing books.
Harry and Luna stood near the entrance, watching Theo, Blaise, and Neville make their way to the carriages. Just as he was about to turn away, a strong hand grabbed his arm and yanked him into a nearby alcove. Luna followed without hesitation humming to herself.
"Easy there, lad and lady" Fred grinned, his twin appearing beside him with a matching mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Now, we know you've had a bit of a rough go of things lately," George added, glancing at Harry meaningfully. "And we think you deserve a bit of a… workaround."
Fred pulled a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. "We solemnly swear that we are up to no good."
As he tapped the parchment, ink lines spread across the surface, revealing the intricate layout of Hogwarts.
"This, dear Harry, is the Marauder's Map," George said proudly. "Shows every secret passage, every person wandering the castle, even the ghosts."
"We don't need it anymore," Fred continued, handing it over. "And we figure you'll make better use of it than we ever could."
Harry took the map, stunned. "But—"
"No buts," George cut in, smirking. "Consider it an early Christmas present."
Fred's grin faltered slightly. "And… sorry about Ron. We wrote to Dad about his behaviour, but all we got in return was a Howler from Mum telling us to mind our own business."
"Hopefully, this makes up for it," George said, winking.
Luna, who had been quiet until now, suddenly tilted her head and murmured, "I heard that the Wrackspurts are very fond of mischief. I think they must have whispered this idea into your ears."
Fred and George exchanged delighted looks before Fred bowed theatrically. "A compliment of the highest order!"
Harry chuckled, tucking the map into his robes. "Thanks, you two. This'll definitely help."
"Mischief managed," George said with a mock salute before the twins slipped back into the shadows.
Harry and Luna watched them go, grinning to themselves as they stepped back out into the snow-covered courtyard. Hogwarts had just become a little more interesting.
~
Christmas morning arrived quietly for Harry. Unlike previous years, there were no loud voices, no excited chatter. Luna, Neville, Theo, and Blaise had all gone home for the holidays, leaving him alone in the Ravenclaw dormitory. He sat up, stretching, when his eyes landed on something near the foot of his bed. A broomstick.
Not just any broomstick. A Firebolt.
His breath caught. This was the most expensive racing broom on the market, sleek and polished to perfection. He reached for it, fingers tracing over the smooth handle. No note. No indication of who had sent it.
Harry frowned. Who would be foolish enough to buy this for me?
The broom was perfect, too perfect. And after everything he had learned about people trying to manipulate him, he had no choice but to be suspicious. Still, it was his now, and he'd be damned if he let paranoia ruin this completely. His magic spread and he couldn't feel anything malicious about it, just the normal spells you find in brooms. Making him smile in excitement.
The Great Hall was decked in shimmering lights and towering Christmas trees, the scent of roasted turkey and spiced cider filling the air. Harry took the seat furthest away from the head table, keeping his head down as he picked at his meal.
He could feel Dumbledore's gaze on him—intense, unrelenting.
What, exactly, the Headmaster was looking for, Harry wasn't sure. But he refused to meet those piercing blue eyes. He would not let Dumbledore worm his way into his mind or his plans.
Once the feast was over, Harry quickly made his way out of the hall, relieved to escape the weight of the unwanted attention. He had just reached the viaduct when a voice called out to him.
"Harry!"
He turned to see Professor Lupin catching up, his usual warm but tired expression in place. Despite that first lesson, he found Lupin to be a pleasant man, even if his magic would reach out to Lupins, telling him something he didn't understand. He had briefly spoken to Harry about his parents and Harry had felt a bit upset that no one had said they had a best friend aside from Black still alive.
"I've been meaning to talk to you," Lupin said. "Would you mind walking with me?"
Harry nodded, falling into step beside him.
"I was wondering if you wanted to learn the Patronus Charm," Lupin began. "What happened during the boggart lesson, I've never seen such a strong reaction."
Harry hesitated before replying, "I've tried researching the Patronus Charm, but there's hardly anything useful on it."
Lupin nodded knowingly. "It's a difficult spell. One of the most advanced defensive charms there is. But I think you're ready to learn it. If you'd like, we can start after the holidays."
Hope flickered in Harry's chest. "I'd like that."
Lupin gave him a reassuring smile. "Good. It won't be easy, but I think you're capable of mastering it."
Harry nodded, determination settling in his gut. He needed to learn this spell. If Dementors were going to be around Hogwarts, he refused to be defenceless again.
Even if he hadn't forgiven Lupin for making him face that boggart, he decided he could take advantage of the man's knowledge.
~
Harry's lessons with Lupin on the Patronus Charm were not going well. He had managed nothing more than a thin mist when attempting to conjure it against the boggart-Dementor. Each failed attempt left him frustrated, wondering if he even had enough happy memories to fuel the spell properly.
"You're improving, Harry," Lupin reassured him after yet another unsuccessful attempt.
Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead and frowned. "A mist isn't going to stop a Dementor, though."
Lupin smiled in that tired but patient way of his. "It's not just about a happy memory, Harry. It has to be powerful. Keep searching."
Meanwhile, he and his friends had turned their attention to the Marauder's Map, hoping to track Sirius Black's movements. So far, they had no such luck, but something else had caught their attention.
"Look at this," Theo murmured, tapping the map with his finger. "Ron and Hermione… they keep showing up in Dumbledore's office."
Neville frowned. "That's happened at least twice this month."
Blaise leaned back, arms crossed. "This just confirms what we've been thinking. They're pestering you because Dumbledore wants them to. And if I had to bet, he's paying them."
Harry scowled. "Wouldn't surprise me."
Now back in the common room with Luna, sitting on one of the couches.
"Good thing I asked Grimbok to put all the basilisk earnings into my Evan Birch account," Harry muttered to himself one evening. "Otherwise, Dumbledore would be sniffing around like a niffler."
Luna, lounging nearby, twirled her wand between her fingers. "You could always tell him you spent it all on moon frog relocation. He might believe it."
Harry snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."
~
Lunas headaches had been increasing lately, and after what Salazar had told them about the madness of Pythia, Harry couldn't shake his concern.
"It's Hermione," Luna said one evening, rubbing her temples. "She's everywhere at once."
Harry, confused but used to Luna's cryptic statements, didn't press her—until one day in February, when he was watching the map and saw something that made him blink twice to see if he was really seeing it.
Hermione's name appeared in two different places at the same time.
"I'm seeing things… right?" Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes.
But there it was. Clear as day.
Luna, peering over his shoulder, hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe she's been split into two. That would explain why she's so tense all the time. I imagine having half your soul somewhere else is quite stressful."
Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or start panicking. Whatever was going on with Hermione, it wasn't normal.
The group had grown increasingly suspicious of Hermione's erratic behaviour. Not only was she constantly exhausted, but she also seemed to be everywhere at once, popping up in places she had no right to be considering their class schedules.
Harry and the others decided to keep a closer eye on her. It didn't take long to notice the impossible—Hermione was attending every elective offered at Hogwarts, something that should have been physically impossible given the overlapping class times.
One afternoon after Ancient Runes, Harry and Neville decided to quietly follow her. She moved with purpose, constantly checking over her shoulder. Just as she rounded a corner, she ducked into an alcove. Harry and Neville peeked around the edge, watching as she pulled something from beneath her robes—a delicate golden necklace with a small hourglass.
Before they could react, she spun the hourglass.
Neville let out a sharp gasp as Hermione shimmered out of existence.
"Bloody hell," Harry whispered. "Did she just—"
"She has a Time-Turner," Neville finished, still staring at the now-empty alcove. "They actually gave her a Time-Turner."
When the group reconvened later in the Chamber, the mood was a mix of exasperation and disbelief.
"Of all the things to use time travel for," Theo said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She's using it to take two extra electives?"
Blaise leaned back, crossing his arms. "Who in their right mind gives a thirteen-year-old a bloody Time-Turner? Do they even know what kind of damage she could cause?"
Luna hummed. "Perhaps she's already caused irreparable paradoxes and hasn't noticed. That would explain a lot."
Neville, still looking rattled, muttered, "I always thought she was intense, but this is insane."
Harry exhaled sharply. "This just confirms that Dumbledore and the Ministry don't care about responsibility. We'll keep an eye on her, but for now, let's not do anything to tip her off. Good thing she didn't use it to go back in time to see who stole the books from her trunk."
~
February 6th arrived with tension hanging thick in the air. For the past week, Gryffindor's new portrait guardian, Sir Cadogan, had been an absolute menace, constantly changing the passwords at random. Neville, being the resourceful and ever-prepared friend he was, had managed to charm the eccentric knight into giving him the week's worth of passwords in advance. He had written them down and kept them safely in his bedside table, checking them daily.
He had been telling everyone for days how insufferable Sir Cadogan was. No one, however, had anticipated what was about to happen.
Harry, Luna, Theo, and Blaise noticed Neville's absence at breakfast that morning. Concerned, they decided to find him. They eventually tracked him down in an empty classroom, sitting alone with a lost look on his face.
"Neville?" Harry called cautiously, stepping forward. "What happened? You weren't at breakfast. Are you okay?"
Neville looked up, his face pale and tired. "You wouldn't believe it," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "Last night, Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor Tower."
The four exchanged stunned glances before Harry urged him to continue. Neville let out a shaky breath and recounted everything.
"I had written down the passwords for the week and kept them in my bedside table. Sir Cadogan kept changing them, and I didn't want to get locked out. I thought it was safe. But—" he swallowed, his hands clenching into fists. "Someone must have stolen the paper. Somehow, Black got hold of it."
Luna frowned. "The…the ginger might be in cahoots with Stubby Broadman."
"Yeah, well, I doubt Ron is in cahoots with black," Neville muttered, missing Luna's frustrated face. "Black got in. We all woke up to Ron screaming. Black was standing over him with a knife. By the time everyone else woke up, he was gone."
Theo swore under his breath, while Blaise let out a low whistle. "That's insane. What did McGonagall say?"
Neville's expression darkened. "She blamed me. Said I was irresponsible and endangered the house. I tried explaining that the passwords must have been stolen, but she didn't care. She banned me from all Hogsmeade visits, gave me detention, and—get this—I'm not allowed to know the password to the common room anymore."
Harry felt his temper flare. "That's ridiculous! You didn't do anything wrong!"
"Tell that to the Gryffindors," Neville scoffed. "They've turned on me. Ron and Hermione have been on my back all morning. The twins said they would let me in when they can, but otherwise, I've been locked out."
Harry exchanged a look with Luna, Theo, and Blaise. That was the final straw.
"You're staying with us," Harry said firmly. "Flitwick will approve it. You're welcome in Ravenclaw."
Neville hesitated. "Are you sure?"
Luna smiled. "Of course. Wrackspurts don't linger where friends belong."
When lunchtime came around, Harry was furious.
Neville quietly made his way to the furthest seat at the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione weren't shy about making their opinions known.
"Unbelievable," Ron muttered, shaking his head as he stabbed his eggs. "Neville, I swear, you've outdone yourself this time."
"Honestly," Hermione huffed, "how do you manage to be this careless? You lost the passwords! What did you think would happen?"
Neville didn't say anything, only clenched his fists, shoulders hunched in shame.
Harry saw red. He stood abruptly, startling those around him, and stalked over. "That's enough."
Hermione scowled at him. "Harry, you don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly," he cut her off coldly. "Neville did nothing wrong. His passwords were stolen from inside his dormitory. How exactly is that his fault?" Looking at Ron suspiciously.
Ron scoffed. "Mate, he lost them—"
"And you lost your rat, should I hold you responsible for that too?" Harry shot back. Ron's ears turned red. "I don't want to hear another word from either of you about this. And I'm not your mate."
Without another word, Harry grabbed Neville's arm and pulled him towards the Ravenclaw table. "You're sitting with us."
Anthony, Michael, and Luna all made space for Neville without question. Luna smiled dreamily at him. "Wrackspurts must have invaded Gryffindor Tower. That's the only explanation for why they're behaving so horridly."
Neville looked down at his plate, voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't want to get locked out all the time. I thought writing them down was the best way to keep track."
Michael scoffed. "You were being prepared. Something those Gryffindors clearly don't appreciate. Besides Black could have easily gotten into the Ravenclaw common room by solving a riddle. Its no different."
"If McGonagall doesn't notice Neville isn't in Gryffindor Tower, she clearly doesn't care about her students as much as she claims," Anthony added.
That night, Harry approached Professor Flitwick to request permission for Neville to stay in the Ravenclaw dorms. The tiny professor had been sympathetic, shaking his head at McGonagall's excessive punishment. "If Mr. Longbottom finds himself more welcome in Ravenclaw, I see no reason to deny him. Consider it done, Mr. Potter. And twenty points for helping a friend in need."
As soon as they entered Harry's dorm, an extra bed appeared beside his. Neville let out a breath of relief. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me," Harry said firmly. "You're not alone, Neville. We've got your back."
Over the next week, Neville was officially one of them, sharing meals at the Ravenclaw table and spending time in the warded fourth-floor room. The whole ordeal solidified one thing in Harry's mind: they needed to watch the Marauder's Map at all times. Sirius Black was still out there, and Harry wasn't going to let anyone catch them off guard again.
And if McGonagall wasn't going to protect Neville, then Harry would.
~
Harry and the others visited Buckbeak after his trial at the Ministry, meeting a disheartened Hagrid who delivered the grim news. "They've sentenced him to execution," Hagrid muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "It ain't right."
Harry was furious at the unfairness of it all. For a brief moment, he considered breaking Buckbeak out before the execution, but the risk to Hagrid was too great. He sighed, frustrated. We'd get caught, and Hagrid would take the fall. As much as I hate it, we can't risk it.
Later that day, the group sat by the Black Lake, watching the Marauder's Map as they idly discussed humorous gossip that Blaise heard. The peaceful moment was broken when Theo suddenly exclaimed, "Black is on the map!"
Harry's eyes snapped to the parchment, scanning for the name. Sure enough, there it was—Sirius Black, moving quickly along the edge of the castle grounds.
"It's a risk," Neville muttered, glancing at Harry. "But if we track him carefully..."
Harry was already making a decision. "With the map, we can sneak up on him unseen. We have to try."
The group moved swiftly but cautiously covered with Harry's shadows, following Black's name as it made its way toward the outskirts of the map toward the Forbidden Forest. When they arrived, instead of a man, they saw a large black dog lurking just beyond the tree line.
Harry froze. The dog looked eerily familiar—the same one he had seen at Privet Drive before catching the Knight Bus.
Luna tilted her head and murmured cryptically, "That's Stubby. We should take him with us."
Blaise whispered, "Black could be an Animagus."
Harry nodded. "Stay hidden behind the trees. I'll go up to him."
He approached slowly, softening his voice into a friendly tone. "Hey there, boy. Are you lost? Are you Hagrid's?"
The dog stiffened but then wagged its tail, ears perking up as if delighted to see him. Hesitantly, Harry knelt and ran a hand through the thick fur. As he did, he extended his magic subtly, scanning the presence before him. There—beneath the surface—was something undeniably human.
Without hesitation, he wandlessly cast a stunning spell.
The dog yelped softly before collapsing. Harry turned and gestured for the others to hurry. "We need to move, now. We're taking him to the Chamber."
Luna draped Harry's invisibility cloak over the unconscious form while Harry cast a levitation charm, making Black's dog form float behind them as they navigated through the castle. Neville and Luna went ahead to clear the path, ensuring they weren't seen.
Upon reaching the Chamber of Secrets, Blaise took control, tying Black securely in Slytherin's library. He made a satisfied noise as the bindings glowed faintly. "My mother taught me well. You don't grow up in a Slytherin household without learning how to properly restrain a prisoner."
Harry snorted, but before he could say anything, Theo gently tugged him aside. His usual smirk was absent, replaced with quiet concern. "Harry... are you sure about this? Whatever we learn, it might not be what you want to hear."
Harry swallowed, taking in Theo's worried expression. He barely noticed when Theo reached out and placed his hand on his arm hesitantly.
"I need to know. I can't live with uncertainty."
Theo studied him for a moment longer before giving his arm a brief squeeze and letting go. "Alright. Just… be prepared."
Before the moment could linger, Neville and Luna entered, breaking the tension. Theo hastily stepped away, his face tinged pink. Harry cleared his throat, refocusing on the task at hand.
It was time to get answers.
Sirius Black groaned as he regained consciousness, blinking blearily as his surroundings came into focus. The dimly lit chamber, the ancient books lining the walls, and—most importantly—the five students standing before him, Harry at the forefront with his wand trained directly at him.
"Change back," Harry ordered, his voice firm, his green eyes dark with suspicion.
Black hesitated for a moment before nodding, shifting seamlessly from his Animagus form into a ragged man with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. The magical bindings that Blaise had cast adapted instantly, tightening to keep him securely restrained.
Harry stepped forward and quickly searched him for a wand, finding none. Only then did he take a measured step back, allowing himself to truly take in the sight of the man before him.
Sirius was staring at him like a dying man who had finally found water. "Harry," he breathed, his voice raw with emotion.
"Be quiet," Harry snapped. "You're going to answer my questions, honestly, or I will hand you over to the Aurors myself."
Sirius flinched but nodded, his eyes never leaving Harry's.
Harry took a deep breath and steadied his grip on his wand before speaking. "On October 31st, 1981, Voldemort was given the secret to the Potters' house... Were you or were you not their Secret Keeper?" His voice rose in intensity. "Did you betray my parents to the Dark Lord?!"
Sirius sucked in a sharp breath, his body tensing. "No," he rasped, shaking his head violently. "No, Harry, I didn't. But it was my fault."
Harry's magic crackled around him, the room feeling suddenly suffocating, heavy with raw power and killing intent. His fury threatened to boil over, but before he could say another word, a gentle hand grasped his own.
"Let Stubby finish," Luna murmured softly, her calm presence grounding him.
Sirius exhaled shakily, nodding at Luna in gratitude before turning back to Harry. "It was my idea," he admitted bitterly. "Voldemort was hunting them, we knew that. Everyone expected me to be the Secret Keeper, so we decided to switch it at the last minute. Peter Pettigrew—he was their real Secret Keeper."
Silence stretched through the chamber as the truth settled in.
"You expect us to believe that?" Neville asked, his voice sharp with doubt. "Even if Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper, you still killed him. You killed him and twelve Muggles!"
Sirius shook his head frantically. "I didn't!" he swore. "Peter set me up! I confronted him in the street, demanded he take responsibility for what he'd done. But the rat—he was always good at playing the victim—he shouted for help, accused me before anyone even knew what was happening. Then he blew up the street himself, cut off his own finger, and transformed into the rat he's always been. He escaped down into the sewers before anyone could react."
Blaise looked sceptical. "And we're supposed to believe that Pettigrew was an Animagus?"
Sirius let out a harsh laugh. "Believe what you want, but I swear it's the truth. Peter's alive. He's been alive this whole time."
Harry's mind reeled. The image of Ron's rat—Scabbers—flashed through his thoughts. The missing toe, the unnatural longevity... It made sickening sense. "You weren't after Ron Weasley…you were after his pet rat."
"Yes." Sirius' voice dropped lower. "Harry, I thought you were in Gryffindor. I couldn't let that rat sleep in the same dorm as my godson. It was a shock—seeing James' son, in Ravenclaw. But looking at you now... it makes sense. You have Lily's sharp mind. I should have been there. I should have protected you."
Harry clenched his fists. "You should have. But you weren't. And I don't trust you. Not yet."
Sirius nodded solemnly. "Then let me earn it. Help me prove Peter's alive, and I swear, Harry, I will make things right."
Harry exhaled slowly, meeting the hopeful, desperate gaze of the man who claimed to be his godfather.
Harry crossed his arms, fixing Sirius with an unwavering stare. "You're not leaving this library until we catch Peter Pettigrew."
Sirius sighed heavily, slumping slightly in his chair. "Harry, I appreciate your concern, but I can help you—"
"No," Theo interrupted, shaking his head. "You don't get it, Black. The Wizengamot won't listen to a bunch of kids, not without Pettigrew as proof. If they catch you, they'll throw you to the Dementors before you even get a trial."
Sirius clenched his jaw, frustration clear in his gaunt features. "I can't just sit here while the rat runs free."
Blaise scoffed. "Well, you don't have much of a choice, do you? You're safer here than out there."
Harry turned, calling out, "Tilly!"
With a soft pop, the house-elf appeared, her large eyes widening in recognition as she saw Sirius. "Master Black!"
Sirius looked stunned for a moment before a watery smile crossed his face. "Tilly… it's good to see you."
The house-elf, however, crossed her arms, her expression stern. "It is not good to see yous, Master Black! You left Young Master Potter alone! Left him to those horrible Muggles!"
Sirius flinched, guilt flashing across his face. "I didn't mean to, Tilly. I—"
"Enough," Harry said, rubbing his temple. "Tilly, can you and the others get Sirius some food and clothes? And make sure he's confined to the chamber until further notice."
Tilly huffed, clearly displeased with Sirius, but she nodded. "Yes, Young Master. Tilly will see it done."
"Thank you." Harry pointed to a smaller door off to the side of the library. "Through there's a small bedroom. You'll stay there, Sirius. You're free to read whatever the library allows, but the portrait will be keeping an eye on you."
Sirius' expression twisted, and for a brief moment, Harry regretted confining him, the memory of his own time in the cupboard under the stairs surfacing. But he pushed it down—Sirius needed time to heal before he could run off chasing Pettigrew.
The tension in the room was thick, but it was getting late, and dinner time was approaching.
Harry turned to Blaise. "Can you release the bindings?"
Blaise waved his wand, muttering an incantation. The magical ropes loosened, and Sirius rolled his shoulders with a wince.
Meanwhile, Theo and Neville, who had been hunched over the Marauder's Map, exchanged uneasy looks. "He's not on it," Theo announced.
Sirius' eyes widened in recognition as he saw the map in their hands. "The Marauder's Map… you have it?"
Harry nodded. "It was in Filch's possession, but the twins nicked it and passed it down to me."
Sirius let out a low chuckle. "Merlin's beard. I thought it was lost forever. We spent years making that thing…" He trailed off, staring at the parchment with something close to reverence.
"Right now, it's our best tool for catching Pettigrew," Harry said. "We'll keep watching it. When he shows up, we'll be ready."
Sirius exhaled sharply, looking around at the group of determined teenagers before him. "You lot are sharper than we ever were at your age. James would be proud."
Harry swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "We'll talk later. For now, get some rest."
The group exchanged glances before turning to leave. As they made their way out of the chamber, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that things were only going to get more complicated from here.
~
The next couple of months since they had caught Sirius had flown by. Despite his initial protests, he slowly began to enjoy the peace of the Chamber of Secrets. Though he grumbled about being confined, he spent more and more time speaking with Salazar Slytherin's portrait. What started as reluctant conversations had grown into long discussions, with Sirius learning far more about Hogwarts' past than he ever expected.
One evening, as Sirius reclined in a chair near the fireplace in Slytherin's study, he listened intently as Salazar explained the true history behind his supposed hatred of Muggle-borns.
"I never despised Muggle-borns," Salazar said with a sigh. "The stories have twisted the truth. My concern was never about their magic—it was about their safety. Muggles feared magic, and they were burning those they suspected of having it. I wanted to remove those children from danger, to shelter them at Hogwarts, but Godric and Rowena saw it differently. They believed separating them from their families was immoral, even if it meant saving their lives. Our argument became the legend you now know, though history has misrepresented it."
Sirius was quiet for a long moment before letting out a low chuckle. "I spent years thinking Slytherin was all about blood purity and ambition, yet here you are, telling me you wanted to protect magical children from being slaughtered."
It was at that moment that Harry and Theo walked in, catching the tail end of the conversation. They both exchanged glances before approaching.
"Did we just hear correctly?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sirius Black, famous Slytherin-hater, having an enlightening conversation with the founder himself?"
Sirius smirked, running a hand through his now cleaner but still untamed hair. "I suppose even I can admit when I've been misled. Turns out, you Slytherins aren't all bad."
Theo gasped dramatically. "We've converted him!"
Harry snorted but then became serious. "We need to be careful. Ron and Hermione have been following us."
Theo's face darkened. "They don't give up, do they?"
Harry nodded. "We've been splitting up to make sure they don't pinpoint where we're going, but we saw on the map when Hermione used the time turner once and nearly ran into herself."
Sirius' eyes widened. "She what?"
"She's been trying to follow us, but she's not as subtle as she thinks," Harry explained. "Still, it's only a matter of time before they get desperate."
Sirius exhaled, shaking his head. "That's dangerous, Harry. If she slips up, she could expose herself—and you."
They nodded, filing that worry away for later.
As the days passed, Harry found himself growing closer to Sirius. He soaked up every story about his parents, hanging onto every word about James' mischievous antics and Lily's fiery intelligence. Sirius took it upon himself to teach them about Animagus transformations, describing the deep connection one had to build with their inner magic and instincts.
"Becoming an Animagus isn't just about magic—it's about knowing yourself, feeling your magic in its rawest form," Sirius explained as he guided Harry through the first steps. "It's not easy, and the Ministry regulates it heavily, but your father and I... well, we figured it out on our own. And you, Harry, you've got your mother's intelligence and your father's stubbornness. You'll get it."
One evening, as they sat in the library, Sirius leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Speaking of family history, have you ever looked into the Black family, Harry?"
Harry frowned. "Not much, no. I know I'm the heir, but you were apparently disowned."
Sirius scoffed. "Disowned or not, blood is blood. The Blacks have a long, complicated history. You've probably noticed how most of us are named after stars and constellations. There's a reason for that."
Theo leaned forward, interested. "What reason?"
Sirius grinned. "Legend says the Blacks are descended from a god. A Greek one, to be precise."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're joking."
"Not at all," Sirius said, a gleam in his eyes. "The story goes that our ancestor, long before the wizarding world we know today, was a direct descendant of Nyx, the primordial goddess of the night. The Blacks have always had a powerful affinity for magic—especially the more esoteric kinds. Divination, shadow magic, elemental control—it's why we always married within the most powerful families. The closer to that original power, the stronger the line."
Harry was silent for a moment. "So, what does that mean for me?"
Sirius shrugged. "That's for you to figure out. You've already displayed rare abilities, haven't you? Maybe it's just in your blood. And with Aunt Dorea's blood, I wouldn't be surprised if those gifts activated in you."
Harry absorbed this information, filing it away with all the other mysteries surrounding his inheritance.
Harry hesitated before asking, "Sirius… what do you know about Dumbledore?"
Sirius immediately perked up, his expression shifting to one of admiration. "Dumbledore? Harry, he's a great man. The greatest wizard alive, if you ask me. He fought Grindelwald, he's always stood against the Dark Arts, and if we go to him about me, I know he'd do everything in his power to get me a trial."
Harry felt hesitant. "And what if I told you he's been stealing from me? From my family's vaults?"
Sirius frowned. "That's impossible. Dumbledore would never—"
"He did!" Harry snapped, voice sharp. "He's stolen family grimoires and heirlooms from my vaults. He's taken money, books—hell, he even put himself down as my magical guardian the day after my parents died! Don't you think that's suspicious? You weren't even in Azkaban yet!"
Sirius shook his head, his disbelief evident. "Harry, that doesn't make sense. Dumbledore has always looked out for you. He left you with your mother's family because it was the safest place for you. He—"
"Don't," Harry interrupted, voice filled with barely contained fury. "Don't talk to me about the Dursleys. That 'safe place' left me locked in a cupboard for ten years."
Sirius paled, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to argue but couldn't find the words. Harry shook his head, chest tight with disappointment. Without another word, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the chamber, his emotions a tangled mess.
Theo exhaled sharply, then turned to Sirius with an unimpressed glare. "Are you serious? You had one job—be on Harry's side."
"I am on his side!" Sirius protested. "But this is Dumbledore we're talking about! He's been protecting Harry since he was a baby!"
Theo scoffed. "Protecting him? By stealing from him? By using his votes to pass laws? By keeping him ignorant of his own inheritance?" Theo's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Yeah, that sounds like real protection."
Sirius looked bewildered. "What are you talking about?"
"The goblins have proof, Sirius. If you want to see the documents, we can get them," Theo said, crossing his arms. "But right now, you've probably just shattered what little trust Harry was starting to place in you. Nice job."
Guilt flickered in Sirius' eyes, but Theo didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heel and rushed after Harry, who was pacing furiously in an empty corridor just outside the Chamber's entrance.
"Harry," Theo called softly.
Harry stopped pacing and looked up, his green eyes glassy with barely restrained tears. "He doesn't believe me, Theo. After everything… he still doesn't believe me."
Theo sighed and pulled him into a firm hug. "He's been locked up for twelve years, Harry. He's not thinking clearly. That doesn't mean he won't come around."
Harry buried his face in Theo's shoulder for a moment before pulling back slightly. "I just… I thought he'd listen."
"We'll make him listen," Theo assured him. "We'll gather everything—the statements from the goblins, all the research we've done on Dumbledore, even his connections to Grindelwald and how he's been using your votes to push anti-creature laws while acting like the saviour of the oppressed. If he sees the evidence, he can't deny it."
Harry exhaled slowly, nodding. "Yeah… yeah, maybe you're right."
Theo smirked. "Of course I am. I'm always right. It's a Slytherin trait."
Harry let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Arrogant snake."
"Brilliant eagle," Theo shot back with a grin.
Harry rolled his eyes but felt some of the weight on his chest lift. "Thanks, Theo."
"Anytime," Theo said, his smile softening. "Now, let's go shove some hard facts down Sirius' throat, shall we?"
~
May passed in a blur of lessons, research, and secret meetings in the Chamber of Secrets. Neville was still staying in Ravenclaw Tower, and despite the obviousness of it, McGonagall had yet to say a word about it. She merely cast him disappointed looks in class, which made them suspect she hadn't even realised he wasn't returning to Gryffindor Tower at all.
One afternoon, while the group was lounging in one of the hidden courtyards, Luna let out a sudden, excited gasp, her wide eyes fixed on the Marauder's Map. She turned to Harry, grabbing his arm in excitement. "Harry! Look! Newt Scamander is in the castle!"
Harry's eyes widened, and he leaned over to confirm. Sure enough, the name 'Newt Scamander' was moving through the castle. "No way. The Newt Scamander? The magizoologist?"
Luna nodded rapidly. "He's one of the best in the world! He wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them!"
Harry's mind whirled. He had read about Newt Scamander's legendary expanded suitcase, which housed countless magical creatures in different environments—entire climates stretched across vast, enchanted spaces inside the case. The idea had fascinated him, and he had been researching similar enchantments, wondering if he might one day need to move Nox from the cove or even rescue other magical creatures in need.
"This is perfect," Harry murmured. "If anyone knows about expanding spaces for magical creatures, it's him. I need to talk to him."
They watched the map carefully, tracking Scamander's path through the castle. His name moved steadily toward the grounds before stopping near Hagrid's hut.
"He's with Hagrid," Neville observed.
"That's our chance," Blaise said, already standing. "Let's go."
The group made their way quickly but quietly toward the edge of the grounds. As they approached Hagrid's hut, they saw the elderly magizoologist standing beside Buckbeak, carefully examining the hippogriff while Hagrid watched with a heavy expression.
"I'm so sorry, Hagrid," Newt said, his voice tinged with regret. "I tried petitioning again this morning, but they rejected it outright. They won't budge on their ruling."
Hagrid sighed, running a massive hand over Buckbeak's feathery neck. "I appreciate ya tryin', Newt. I really do. But they've made up their minds. They ain't listenin' to reason."
Buckbeak's fate had been sealed, and even someone as influential as Newt Scamander couldn't overturn the Ministry's decision. He exchanged glances with Theo and Blaise. If they were going to save Buckbeak, they would have to do it themselves.
Harry and the others approached Buckbeak cautiously, watching as Newt Scamander continued his examination. Hagrid noticed them first and beamed. "Ah, yeh lot found yer way here, did yeh? Come on over."
Luna, ever unpredictable, practically skipped ahead, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She stopped in front of Newt and gave him a bright smile. "Mr. Scamander! The Wrackspurts must have led us straight to you."
Newt chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Well, that's a new one. And you must be Luna Lovegood. I've heard about you from your father—you look just like him."
Luna nodded sagely before grabbing Harry's wrist and pulling him forward. "And this is Harry, my best friend. He has lots of questions. And did you know he's a Parselmouth?"
Newt's eyes widened in sheer delight. "A Parselmouth? Truly? That's fascinating! Most Parselmouths isolate themselves, and meeting one is quite rare—especially outside of India. The last Parselmouth I encountered was well over fifty years ago."
Harry shifted awkwardly, unused to such enthusiastic interest in his abilities. "Er… yeah, I guess. It's not something I really talk about."
Newt's expression turned thoughtful. "I understand. There's quite a stigma around Parseltongue. But did you know that in some magical communities, particularly in India, Parselmouths are revered as speakers of the ancient language of serpents? The Ministry there even requires special permission to meet one. They have an incredible connection with magical creatures, particularly snakes." He paused taking a breath. "But—hold on, we'll return to that. Introduce me to your friends properly, will you?"
Harry quickly introduced Neville, Theo, Blaise, and Luna. Newt greeted each of them warmly before clapping his hands together. "Now, Harry, you had questions?"
Harry nodded, glancing at the enchanted case at Newt's feet. "Your briefcase… I've read about it. You created an entire sanctuary inside it, right?"
Newt grinned, clearly proud. "I did! Built it myself. It took years of work and research into expansion charms, environmental stabilisation runes, and time-dilation magics."
Harry's eyes gleamed. "How does it work? I mean, beyond the basic expansion charms? If it's closed, how does it get air inside?"
Newt knelt and ran a hand along the case's exterior. "Ah, excellent question! The trick is a series of runes—ancient Norse and modified Egyptian designs. There are two key runic schemes: one on the inside and one on the outer shell. The exterior set draws in oxygen, filtering it through a stabilisation rune that ensures proper atmospheric balance within. This way, the creatures never suffocate, even when the case is fully closed."
He allowed Harry to run his hands over the case to see first-hand. Harry sneakily let his magic scan the case to feel out all the enchantments and was awed at the number of layers he could feel and identify. Giving one last scan he let go and thanked Newt.
Neville leaned in. "And what about getting a creature inside? What if it doesn't want to go?"
Newt chuckled. "Another good question. There are a few techniques—some creatures can be guided with food or calming spells. For larger or more resistant creatures, I developed a gradual spatial compression rune that makes the entrance feel more natural, rather than forcing them through a small opening."
Blaise whistled. "Impressive. And if, say, you needed to transport something huge?"
Luna tilted her head innocently. "Like a dragon?"
Newt laughed, shaking his head. "That would be quite the challenge! A dragon's sheer magical energy disrupts most spatial expansion spells, making them highly resistant to being confined in magical spaces. You'd need a reinforced stasis charm combined with a high-tier displacement rune to even attempt it. Of course, the bigger the landscape inside the more settled they would feel, but it takes an impressive amount of power to extend that far."
Harry took mental notes, already planning future research. "Which books would you recommend if I wanted to study rune-based magical habitats?"
Newt looked genuinely impressed. "You're very bright, Harry. I'd start with Ancient Runes and Environmental Magics by Elara Henshaw. It details rune sequences used for spatial expansions and climate control. For living enclosures, Magical Sanctuaries and You by Albrecht Von Heldenburg is excellent."
Harry committed the names to memory. "Thank you. This will help a lot."
Newt beamed. "I must say, it's refreshing to meet such inquisitive young minds. Most students are too busy worrying about their OWLs to care about creatures or magical artifact creation. It's been a pleasure talking with you all."
Hagrid smiled proudly. "They're good kids, Newt. Real sharp."
Harry exchanged glances with his friends, all of them feeling an immense sense of accomplishment. Meeting Newt Scamander had not only been enlightening but had given them a clearer idea of what was possible with magic—especially for Harry, who now had more ideas for how to protect Nox.
Newt patted Buckbeak one last time before standing up. "Well, I best be going. Keep studying, all of you, and don't stop asking questions. Curiosity is the root of great discoveries. Feel free to contact me if you have any more questions."
As Newt left, Luna sighed happily. "I knew today would be a good day."
~
Harry had finally stopped avoiding Sirius. He wasn't sure when the tension between them had started to fade, but one evening, while they were alone in the Chamber's library, he finally decided to ask the question that had been on his mind.
"Sirius, can I ask you about Lupin?"
Sirius, who had been flipping through an old tome, glanced up, his expression shifting into something mournful yet guarded. "What about him?"
Harry hesitated before continuing. "I've been practicing the Patronus charm with him since January. It's been going… well, I guess. I can produce a strong mist, but he called the lessons to an end. He avoids talking about my parents, though. He isn't very open about anything, really."
Sirius sighed, rubbing his temple. "Yeah, that sounds like Remus. He has his reasons, Harry. Life hasn't exactly been kind to him." His voice held a quiet anger, but it wasn't directed at Harry. "There was a time when James and I thought Remus was the spy in the Order. He started distancing himself from us, and I…" Sirius trailed off, looking regretful.
Harry frowned. "You thought he was the spy?"
"For a brief time, yeah," Sirius admitted, shaking his head. "It was stupid of us. Looking back, I realise he was just trying to protect himself, not betray us." His voice softened, his tone more hesitant. "Remus… he's always been cautious about letting people in, especially when it comes to his… condition."
Harry set his quill down. "Because he's a werewolf?"
Sirius's eyes widened in shock. "How—how did you—?"
Harry shrugged. "Wasn't hard to figure out. His magic feels a little feral, and there's a certain way he carries himself, he's always sick on the full moons. The Wolfsbane potion in Snape's possession didn't help keep it a secret, either."
Sirius let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "You really are Lily's son." He chuckled, but there was sadness in it. "I don't think he meant to keep it from you, Harry. It's just… it's hard for him. People haven't exactly been understanding."
Harry nodded but didn't press further. Instead, he turned his attention back to his project spread across the library table—a trap box designed to hold an Animagus and block their access to magic. He'd been experimenting with different runes, having bought a pet box for rats as a base. The engravings had to be precise, or else the containment spells wouldn't hold.
Sirius watched him work in silence for a while before hesitantly speaking. "Harry…."
Harry looked up, sensing the shift in Sirius's tone. "Yeah?"
Sirius swallowed thickly, setting his book aside. "I owe you an apology."
Harry straightened, caught off guard. "For what?"
"For not believing you about Dumbledore," Sirius admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "I didn't want to see it, but now… after everything you've shown me, I can't believe I ever trusted that man. I've been looking back at all my past interactions with him, and I see it now. The manipulations, the careful nudges in certain directions. He always had too much interest in James, especially when he and Lily got married."
Harry stared at Sirius, stunned. He had expected resistance, but not this level of raw honesty.
Sirius continued, his hands balling into fists. "He let Peter betray us, Harry. He had to have known something—he was the one who cast the Fidelus charm. And yet, he did nothing. He let me rot in Azkaban without a trial. He kept you with those awful Muggles."
Harry's throat tightened. He'd spent years trying to put words to the feeling of betrayal that burned inside him, but hearing it from Sirius—someone who had also been manipulated—made it all the more real.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "I wonder how different things would have been if we had seen through him earlier." He sighed, looking Harry in the eyes. "But you—you saw it. You figured it out. And you've done everything to keep yourself safe despite everything he's thrown at you."
Harry felt his breath hitch as Sirius stood and walked over to him. Slowly, hesitantly, Sirius pulled him into a hug. Harry stiffened for a moment before melting into it, his arms wrapping tightly around Sirius's back.
"Thank you," Sirius whispered. "For everything you've done. For keeping me safe when I should have been the one protecting you."
Harry clenched his fists against Sirius's shirt, feeling his eyes sting. A silent, shuddering breath left him as he realised—this was the first time he had ever been held like this, with warmth, with care, with family.
"When I'm free," Sirius continued, voice thick with emotion, "I want you to live with me. If you'll have me. I know I haven't been there for you, but I want to be. I want to make it right. We can be a family."
Harry's shoulders trembled as he nodded, burying his face into Sirius's shoulder. The dam inside him cracked and he allowed himself to cry.
Sirius held him tighter. "It's going to be okay, Harry. I swear it."
And for the first time, Harry believed him.