42.Troubled Times

5th December 1992, Saturday (1 day later)

Diana Taylor

The cold Scottish air tickled her nose, numbed and raw by the freezing winds. The morning runs were quite the challenge at the start, but a few months later, Diana found it easier. Had she been running alone, Diana would have given up within the week, but with Harry, Juno, and the Carrow twins, the morning runs flew by rather quickly amid the panted conversations.

Getting up so early never got easier, though. At least Harry was running in front, illuminating the way with a powerful wand-lighting charm for the rest of them.

“I heard there were problems in your Quidditch Team?” Somehow, Hestia still managed to speak tonelessly while heaving and not lagging behind.

“Captain Slynt is not happy that we lost to the Puffs,” Diana said breathlessly. “Cho Chang got chewed out for hours for failing to catch the snitch one second before Diggory. She had the chance and somehow failed.”

But Diana was quite glad about it—Slynt had promised that she would play the next match as Seeker instead of Chang.

“Yes, she was definitely closer to the snitch than he was,” Flora mused aloud. “But what tactic could Diggory have used to halt her? A jinx?”

“Hufflepuffs are not the type to cheat,” Harry said absentmindedly. “He probably smiled at her, and Chang’s mind short-circuited. Half the girls in the upper years seem to swoon after him, so why would Chang be any different?”

There was no heat or envy in his voice as if her friend was stating a fact. It was true, though. Diggory had a pretty smile.

“What’s so special about Diggory?” Hestia frowned. “He’s half-decent at classwork, but his face is too shiny. Sister, do you think we should try smiling at our enemies during the matches to distract them?”

Diana almost tripped as uncontrollable giggles erupted from her mouth.

“That will probably work, if for an entirely different reason,” Harry said, chuckling. “But do you need to? I heard you won against the Gryffindors fair and square.”

“McClaggan is a terrible seeker, and their brooms are inferior,” Hestia wheezed out. The girl might be used to the morning runs, but she also had to contend with Quidditch practice last night – two training sessions over the past few months caused plenty of fatigue even with potions. Diana also felt her own lungs burning and decided to save her breath. “Aside from Woods and the Weasley twins, the others aren’t much of a challenge.”

The Carrow twins would have been beautiful if not for their creepiness. Aside from being capable of freezing anyone with a look, they were also very, very dangerous with a beater bat. While they lacked the sturdy physique the boys had, they more than made up for it through pure viciousness and excellent synergy with each other.

Besides, the gap between boys and girls wasn’t that big since all beater bats were heavily enchanted as per the rules. Even then, the twins still had a wicked swing on them, as Diana discovered when she spied on the training that once. Tossing rocks like a shot-put built good muscles regardless of whether you are a girl or a boy.

Maybe she should start training her muscles as well…who knows, it might even help make her taller!

In the end, Harry and Juno sprinted another lap around the great lake while Diana and the Carrows watched enviously.

“It’s like their lungs are made of iron,” Diana whined. The difference hadn’t been so big last year—or even at the start of the year. But for some reason, her two friends were slowly turning into monsters.

They even crammed in some extra spell practice between the morning run and breakfast–something Diana tried once and could barely keep up with. Soon enough, her puffing friends finished their sprint, and Harry came first as he always did.

“Let’s go back into the castle,” he urged as misty steam wafted over his head. God, Harry wasn’t even that winded!

They finally headed back towards the main entrance, and Diana stole a glance towards Harry. He had definitely grown taller again and was now towering over her by four whole inches! This meant he grew a whooping six inches since the start of the first year, compared to Diana, who was only two inches taller. There had to be a secret to this. It couldn’t be just genetics—Diana refused to admit it because her own father was tall, too!

They split up at the main entrance under the vigilant gaze of Merula Snyde, the new caretaker, and Diana rushed through a shower before breakfast.

She worried about Harry recently. His stay in the hospital wing changed him. Not to mention, sleeping for seven days was abnormal, but everyone else just nodded their heads and accepted it! Then, there were the little things. It was a subtle enough change that only Diana seemed to notice, like how he spoke even less than before and often got lost in thought during classes or breakfast as if his mind was a thousand miles away. If anyone else noticed, they weren’t particularly bothered. But perhaps it was because her friend had this aura–more of a mean glare resting on his face–that kept most admirers and curious classmates at a distance.

There was a newfound harshness in the way Harry walked, and his gaze had become heavier. Even Padma and Morag complained that speaking to him had become more awkward, but Diana struggled to see that one, though Harry was definitely more taciturn. Much to the teachers’ chagrin, he had started training even harder than before and stopped doing his homework to get more time for reading and practice. Flitwick allowed it despite many complaints, as Harry was far ahead of everyone else, even if the truancy lowered her friend’s grades. Not that he cared.

Juno had followed in his footsteps and even convinced Gamp, that lazy sixth-year prefect, to do most of her essays.

Harry was definitely up to something, and the equally unfairly tall Black heiress was in on it. They were calling him Tryhard Potter, but they were not wrong. In fact, her friend seemed to carry the new ‘title’ with pride and a tinge of amusement.

Forty minutes later, Diana said she would join the sleepy Padma in the Great Hall and waited to catch Harry.

Surely enough, he walked out of the boy’s dorms as fresh as a daisy, just as the common room slowly filled with drowsy Ravenclaws. The weekends always had most sleep late, especially since the food remained until half-past nine.

Juno joined them, and they wordlessly headed towards the Great Hall. As soon as they started descending the marble staircase and as Diana saw no other students nearby, she steeled herself.

“The two of you are up to something,” she whispered furiously. “I want in!”

Harry and Juno shared a wordless glance that irked Diana.

“No,” the green-eyed boy declined with steel in his voice.

“Why?” she asked with a childish pout, abusing her short stature as she made her eyes seem as large as possible with a hint of wetness. It always worked on her parents, but Harry seemed unmoved, much to her chagrin. Dang it, and she had also swallowed her pride to use that forbidden skill!

“There’s a significant danger to our endeavours.” There was a note of warning in Juno’s silky tone. “It’s not something we would involve close friends into.”

“Dangerous how?”

“Just some stuff with dark magic that might get you and your family in trouble,” Harry explained dryly.

“You should stop, then. Dark magic is dangerous and illegal!”

Juno’s face darkened.

“The trouble we’re referring to is not the Ministry of Magic but the followers of the Dark Lord. Sirius Black and my great grand-aunt are powerful adults who can keep us safe out of school, but your own parents can’t protect themselves against a determined wizard. Remember what Professor Quirrell taught us?”

“That all magic can be dangerous in a skilled wizard’s hands.” Diana grimaced. “And you can even kill someone with first and second-year charms. But there are security forces-“

“Diana,” Juno interrupted, and her eyes turned frosty. “Think about it for a moment; even subjects like Herbology can be lethal. A wizard who isn’t skilled in wand work but decisive enough can still apparate into a muggle’s home, drop a fully mature mandrake and apparate out, killing everyone in a hundred yards radius with nary a trace.”

Diana’s insides lurched as she imagined the image. Finch-Fletchley had been knocked out for a few hours when replanting the young mandrakes because his ear muffs weren’t placed correctly.

“Why do you think I train like a madman every day?” Harry asked, his gaze growing distant the same way her great uncle did when he was asked about the Korean War.

“Uh… because you really liked magic and training?” Diana quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

“I mean… that’s true,” her friend agreed. “I’ve grown to like it, but the real reason is that Voldemort-” a few nearby Gryffindors flinched, earning themselves a disdainful glance from Juno. “And his followers will always be a threat.”

“Not all of them were killed or captured.” Juno’s voice thickened with disdain. “While my parents and a few unhinged followers decided to stay in Azkaban out of misguided loyalty, many of Voldemort’s inner circle and other supporters remain free. Some of it was through simple bribery; the rest was the Dark Lord’s cunning. He kept his followers separated and in the dark, and only he knew who was loyal to him because they were always veiled with their enchanted white masks and dark cloaks.”

Even the other nearby students listened with interest as the Black heiress continued speaking.

“Even the Death Eaters didn’t know who most of their companions were, let alone the Ministry of Magic, and this helped wave away many suspicions after the war. With the Imperius–the mind-controlling curse–and such division tactics, he slowly but surely made many cower the more the war lasted. By 1981, wizards and witches fled Wizarding Britain in droves, and the Ministry was considered on its last leg, only Dumbledore’s existence preventing Voldemort from storming it directly.”

“Then he went after Harry and perished,” Diana muttered, her throat going dry. “God, no wonder you’re so popular!”

She was just about to fall into the disappearing step as Harry pulled her up. He had not even looked down, yet he always managed to skip those, unlike Michael Corner, who required help after he got stuck at least once a week.

“It was my mother, but nobody would acknowledge that a young muggle-born witch could vanquish such a powerful dark wizard.” Harry’s face was bitter. “A miracle baby from an old pureblood lineage who ‘somehow’ survived a Killing Curse was far better for publicity. Anyway, we digressed too much. Plenty of the murder-happy followers of Voldemort are still around. Draco and Nott’s fathers’ are two of the most prominent. Then there’s the werewolf Fenrir Greyback and his pack, who are wanted on the continent, among many others. And those are merely the ones that we know of. I cannot afford to be weak.”

“Neither can I,” Juno added. “Power is freedom, and as we all know, magic is might.” As if to demonstrate her statement, she flicked her wand, and a buzzing sound quieted the clamour coming from the nearby students. But just as they couldn’t hear the others, they couldn’t overhear their conversation in turn.

Diana could only sigh at her friend’s antics.

The whole thing made sense, but she was in awe of how incompetent the Ministry of Magic was. But then again, her own father always complained about how the muggle ministry was always a bother and completely useless unless it was to make your life harder.

“And you want to deal with these… followers?” Diana asked suspiciously.

“Be ready to do so, at least,” Harry said coldly. “If the Ministry is unwilling or incapable of dealing with such problems when they arise, someone else has to be ready. Skill and power will fend off any enemy you face far better than the DMLE, who are infamous for showing up long after any fighting has finished.” His voice turned into a whisper, and he spun his wand, and the chattering of the nearby students suddenly disappeared. “If you want to join us, train harder in duelling and study more.”

“I’m already studying and writing homework five hours daily and have Quidditch training and morning runs,” Diana moaned, her shoulders sagging. “And my muggle exams in summer… we can’t all be monsters like you and Juno!”

Harry smiled and patted her shoulder.

“It’s fine. My own training comes at the expense of fun and leisurely activities. It’s not something we will ever force you to do.”

“I help Harry out of my own volition, too,” Juno added.

“Why must you two do this? Why not the adults-“

“Of course, we have adults helping us,” Harry hastily reassured. “But you should have seen for yourself last year–the adults are not particularly adept at dealing with certain issues. Sure, some of it is red tape, negligence, or outright incompetence. As I said, if you ever get into a scuffle with a Dark Wizard, it’s far more likely that you’ll die before the DMLE comes to help.”

Diana felt morose. Why was the Wizarding World so crazy? Couldn’t they all just have fun and enjoy the wonders of magic together?

They reached the Great Hall, the Muffling Charm broke with a soft plop under the noise of the collective student body, and the three of them quickly focused on eating. For some reason, the headmaster and the other teachers looked… worried.

Breakfast started slowly, and Diana piled up her plate to mirror everything Harry ate. That much growth had to be the diet! A generous serving of bacon, eggs, and peanut butter toast with some slices of fresh tomato made her feel stuffed, but she stubbornly kept eating. Then, she washed it all down with a tall glass of warm milk… on second thought, she drank another one, feeling bloated and sick, but it was all for the sake of progress!

Just as the four tables had filled up, the owls came, Hedwig being first as she swooped down like a white arrow with the newspaper tied to her legs.

Harry generously filled a plate with bacon for the snowy owl as he unfurled the Daily Prophet, glanced absentmindedly at the front page… and promptly choked on his treacle tart. The rest of the owls followed with mail, packages, and papers too.

“Did something important happen for once?” Goldstein asked as he was greedily munching. “Usually, it’s a load of gossip and boring trivia.”

“I’d rather have gossip than this,” Harry hissed as he slammed the paper on the table, and Diana heard several gasps and curses in the hall.

The sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect named Call-Me-Tonks coughed for silence before reading aloud, “Mass Azkaban breakout! Late last evening, all two hundred seventy-nine inmates escaped Azkaban, including many dangerous Death Eaters including but not limited to Peter Pettigrew the Rat, Potions Master Severus Snape, the pyromancer Ascalon Emberwick, Dimitri the Fraud, and Alfonso the Defiler.”

“The Defiler?” Diana asked, her face green.

“He raises the corpses of freshly killed women and copulates with them,” Juno whispered, and Diana nearly puked her breakfast. There went her appetite…

“The Azkaban Warden is also missing,” Tonks continued, her face pale yet solemn. “Fifty-nine prisoners, however, failed to apparate properly without a wand and splinched themselves to death, and two hundred and twenty dangerous dark wizards are at large. Minister Fudge has mobilised the full might of the DMLE and promises that the Ministry has everything under control. DMLE Director Scrimgeour urges wizardfolk to remain at home and not to engage with any unsavoury individuals but to report them immediately.”

The Great Hall erupted in whispers. Juno’s face was as cold as ice, but Diana couldn’t help but think she was furious, and a few Slytherins seemed pale and shifty. The Hufflepuffs looked terrified more than anything else, especially Bones, Abbott, and a few of the older students. Then there was the grim-looking Gryffindors with Neville, who was shaking, probably from anger.

Even Sirius was staring at a copy of the Daily Prophet, his face murderous.

“How the hell did they escape?” A loud, disgruntled voice echoed from an upper-year Gryffindor. “I thought Azkaban was supposed to be unbreakable!”

“It doesn’t say anything about that. It’s probably under investigation or something.”

“Dad was right; we should never have trusted bloody dementors to guard a pigeon, let alone so many criminals.”

“Do you think the dementors let them go?”

“I sure hope not…”

“Merlin, my mum and uncle are going to be pissed…”

“I wonder if people will start fleeing Wizarding Britain again. I heard that during the war, a fifth of the population fled for the Colonies and the continent.”

“The Ministry will catch them all…”

“Just like they caught all of them last time? Pah-“

A deafening blast drowned off the commotion as Dumbledore stood up and lowered his gnarly wand slowly.

“In consideration of yesterday’s events, I have to announce that Hogsmeade visits will be restricted for the following few months.” Many groaned with disappointment, but the headmaster firmly continued, “Or until such a time that the danger passes and the criminals are apprehended. The school’s security shall be increased, and I have convinced the Board of Directors and the DMLE to hire a retired auror and a trainee who shall oversee the castle’s defences and serve as liaisons to the Auror’s office in times of need. Professor Flitwick?”

The Charms Master stood on his chair and coughed.

“As many of you know, I have begun hosting the duelling club again, and I recommend anyone who wants to build up or merely brush up their practical defence skills.” Flitwick’s face became stern. “With Professor Dumbledore’s permission, I will use the Great Hall for our activities from four-thirty to six-thirty three evenings a week.”

The announcement was met with excitement from all four tables.

“Oh, the club is finally going to fill up,” Padma cheered. “Are you all coming?”

“I suppose a visit won’t hurt, especially after I promised Flitwick to at least check it out,” Harry mused, hastily shovelling the remains of his breakfast in his mouth before turning to her. “Hopefully, it will be of great use to gain some experience against older years.” His bland tone suggested otherwise.

Diana gulped while the Indian witch rubbed her hands, her eyes dancing with excitement.

“Perfect. Someone will finally show those strutting Sixth and Seventh Years their place!”

For once, it wasn’t Harry who was the centre of whispers but Juno. As they made their way to the duelling club, many pointed at her, saying things like, “Be careful–she’s the daughter of murderers!”

“You know what they say–the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Be quiet, or she’ll curse you.”

“I heard she’s very vicious when provoked…”

“She probably bewitched Potter somehow. Has anyone checked him for love potions?”

“A Dark Lady in the making, I tell you…”

Diana was anxious, but Harry seemed to find it hilarious. He kept chuckling as he repeated the ridiculous accusation at a cold-faced Juno.

The afternoon quickly approached, and the whole school seemed to converge towards the Great Hall, faces filled with enthusiasm.

A grim-faced Neville also approached Juno as they went through the entrance hall, and Diana had a strange sense of deja vu. But before he could say something, the blue-eyed witch had somehow silenced Longbottom without even drawing her wand, for he gaped with his mouth open, but no sound came out.

“I’m done with your petty feud, Longbottom,” she hissed, her patience finally worn thin. “I like my parents no more than you do, and I’m well aware they are hardened criminals who deserve nothing less than the Dementor’s Kiss. If you want to fight them, go kill them and leave me out of it… if you can get your hands on them first, that is.”

It was rare to see Juno lose her composure, but something in Longbottom just seemed to infuriate the tall girl.

“Not only a dark witch but a kin-killer as well!” Someone shouted from the back.

“Look, Ne–Longbottom,” Harry sighed, undoing the silencing charm with a wave of his wand. “If you go after Juno because of her parents, are you any better than the Lestranges, who go off murdering innocent folks because of who their parents are?”

“She’s bad blood!” Angrily said one of the Gryffindor boys behind Longbottom.

“That’s what Voldemort’s–” all of the Gryffindors flinched “–followers say about muggle-borns, half-bloods, and muggles. Oh, get a hold of yourself. You tremble at the mere name of a memory you have never faced, yet gang up on a witch? Is that what Gryffindor’s bravery is all about?”

Her friend slowly moved his gaze from one boy to another, but none of them dared to meet Harry’s harsh green eyes, while some muttered, ‘she ain’t exactly alone‘.

Juno had now taken out her wand, even if it pointed to the ground. Harry’s wand was spinning between his fingers, and Diana couldn’t help but clench her own between her fingers.

Eventually, Professor Black came over and coughed loudly, and the Gryffindors went away, whispering unhappily amongst each other.

But just as he neared Harry, he slipped and face-planted on the ground, much to the amusement of the nearby students.

The tension was immediately broken.

The laughter only intensified as his attempt to stand was met with another failure. As he slipped again, his robes turned a poisonous green, and his hair became a pretty shade of silver; Harry burst out in laughter.

“Enjoying being a snake for a change?”

“Stop snickering, you brat.” Sirius waved his wand and finally managed to get up and dust off his robe. He conjured a mirror and nodded to himself. “Quite a unique style, but it definitely enhances my charm, I’d say. I suppose, for the sake of inter-house cooperation, I shall resignedly adopt my ancestor’s House for a change.”

And just like that, he proudly entered the Great Hall as the nearby Gryffindors clamoured ‘traitor’, but without any heat. Neville was still watching with a scowl, and some were still subtly pointing fingers and hushedly whispering at Juno.

They made way for the other students to pass them, ignoring their thoughtful looks. The Black witch turned to Diana. “You should probably tell your parents to move out of Britain if they can. Some of the Death Eaters loved targeting muggles or the families of muggleborn. They should employ proper defence around their homes if they sit here stubbornly. My family has a list of trusty muggle-born wands for hire if you want.”

“Thanks, I’ll definitely send an owl to my dad,” Diana agreed, though deep down, she still couldn’t believe this whole mess was happening. Was that what they meant earlier by ‘defending themselves’?

“Longbottom won’t try anything, would he?” Padma asked worriedly. “I hear he’s still brushing toilets with a brush twice a week for last year’s duel.”

“He’s decent with a wand, one of the top Gryffindors in our year, only behind Weasley and Granger,” Diana offered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Juno smiled viciously. “If he tries something again, not only will he fail, but I’ll get him expelled and his wand snapped.”

“I thought the headmaster was just using it as a threat to keep Longbottom in line?” Morag asked quietly.

“If Professor Dumbledore goes back on his word now, nobody will take him seriously in this school anymore,” was the cool response. “The staff and the students will lose the respect they had for his authority, and his words will hold less weight. Besides, you know, this is the last official position Albus Dumbledore holds, and by all accounts, it doesn’t seem like he intends to resign or leave anytime soon.”

They entered the Great Hall and found it expanded a few times its previous size.

“I don’t remember the Great Hall being so big,” Diana muttered with awe.

“Probably Flitwick and Dumbledore’s doing. Expansion charms of this scale are not easy,” Harry said, idly looking around.

“So, there’s duelling rankings in the club?” Juno asked with a bored tone.

“Yep.” Padma took out a scroll. “Here it is–I keep a copy with me.”

Diana took a look and scratched her head–most of the names were unfamiliar to her.

1. Elise Travers, 7th Year S

2. Adam Hawkins, 7th Year G

3. Emilia Fairchild, 7th Year G

4. Roger Rosier, 7th Year S

5. Nymphadora Tonks, 6th Year, H

6. Peter Aldridge, 7th Year H

7. Cassius Fairchild, 6th Year R

8…

“It’s all older years,” she pointed out. “The first second year is you… at 33rd place!”

“Naturally,” Padma scoffed. “Older witches and wizards have the advantage of magic power, knowledge, and experience that should be nearly impossible to match. When you’re young, you’re slow, your magic is underdeveloped, and your lack of knowledge and experience will weaken your spells and slow in turn. Well, not weaken them, but you will not be able to bring out a spell’s full power.”

“I mean, I already knew that, but surely, it wouldn’t be that ridiculous. Harry’s easily demolished many older students this summer, and even some young adults…”

“Yeah, but that’s not normal and is why it got so much international attention,” Juno explained. “Going a year or two above in duelling Under Seventeen is considered quite skilled, and hopping over three years is considered a crazy talent.”

They all looked at Harry, who was scratching his brow.

“Silence, please!” Flitwick’s squeaky voice echoed at the far end of the table. He had appeared on a podium at the far end of the Great Hall. A few of the other teachers were beside him, observing quietly. “So, fighting. Yes, students–fighting, not duelling. Some of us will never get into a wizarding fight, but the Wizarding World can be dangerous, and with so many dark wizards and witches on the run, being prepared is advised. What is the first thing we should do in a fight?”

“Apparate away,” an older year answered instantly.

“Indeed. Take a point for Hufflepuff, Mr Wright. But what if there’s an anti-apparition jinx?”

“Run out of its boundaries, then apparate away?” Percy Weasley was the one to reply.

“A sound solution, but you would be exposing your back to the enemy, Mr Weasley,” Flitwick pointed out mildly. “Besides, there are those who never earned the Apparation licence or never mastered the skill because of its dangers. The Ministry estimated that at least fifteen per cent of adult wizards and witches lack the talent, and twice as many cannot use it under pressure without a serious risk of lethal splinching. Professor Black, you saw a lot of fighting in the first Blood War. What was your preferred tactic?”

“If it’s one enemy, subdue him if you’re certain in your skills,” Sirius Black answered blandly, flicking off his now silver mane. Merula Snyde, cheeks flushed, seemed to be staring at him in a daze. “When facing multiple opponents, try to distract them and retreat. If retreat is not an option, you can only fight for your life, so go all out and bring them down with you if you can. In the end, that’s all these tactics boil down to.”

“Well said,” Flitwick clapped happily. “That’s what we’ll practise today. Professor Quirrell has laid a solid groundwork with dodging and casting under pressure, so we’ll focus on shielding and subduing today.”

“Professor, can we have a demonstration of some fighting or at least duelling?” Ron Weasley asked, standing next to Astoria Greengrass and Luna Lovegood. Diana’s mood soured—over half the first years were taller than her, including those two little blondes that flanked the freckled red-haired boy.

“Hmm. I suppose that will be wise. Does anyone want to volunteer?”

A tall Gryffindor with light-brown hair stepped up, strutting up the main duelling stage with his head arrogantly held up high.

“Who’s that?” Diana asked. “He looks like a proper ponce.”

“Adam Hawkins,” Padma said with a sigh. “And you’re right, he’s a bit of an ass, and only Elise Travers can best him in a duel reliably. Oh, god. He’s staring at us!”

Harry snorted. “He’s glaring at me as if I owe him gold. I wonder what his problem is.”

“Well, Potter, if you haven’t noticed, you’re somewhat of a celebrity,” Goldstein was the one to reply, shaking his head. “Defeating someone who bested the former Under Seventeen runner-up will see him rise in popularity. Regardless if you are five or six years his junior.”

“How annoying,” Harry groaned. Then his scowl disappeared as his face turned expressionless, and he raised his voice. “I’ll fight him!”

“Ah, Mr Potter. Come, come.” Flitwick waved him over with a smile as the other students moved away to form a path for him.

“Hawkins is in trouble now,” Juno said, smirking with amusement.

“Why?”

“Harry hates trouble, and he is now definitely going to crush him to dissuade such challenges in the future. A pity–I wanted to be the one to fight him. Fairchild and Travers ought to do, then.”

The Great Hall clamoured with excitement to see Tryhard Potter fight, and the Carrow Twins were already taking bets with the Weasley Twins on who would win–surprisingly, they got along swimmingly with those troublemakers. Juno confidently handed them over ten Galleons, betting on Harry.

“Alright,” Flitwick coughed as Harry faced off against Hawkins, both with their wands drawn yet pointing to the ground. “I suppose there’s no point in pleasantries. Let’s start.”

Hawkins had barely raised his arm when it was all over. Harry was simply faster. Moving with lightning speed, her friend slashed his wand upward like a sword. A plank was ripped out of the podium from underneath Hawkins’ feet before he could even begin his spell. With the same wand motion, the plank flew upright, smacking the Seventh Year Gryffindor on the face, and Hawkins flopped down like a sack of potatoes with a smashed nose leaking blood all over.

“Oh god, can you believe that loser,” some older Hufflepuff girl groaned. “He couldn’t even last a single spell after acting so high and mighty! And to think I bet two sickles on him because he was strutting so confidently earlier?”

Many others jeered at the fallen Gryffindor, the Slytherins being the loudest. Flitwick sighed and tapped Hawkins, fixing his nose back into place and stopping the bleeding. The boy was then levitated off the stage.

“Is there anybody else while I’m still up here? This club is meant for learning, so I might as well get all the petty challenges now.” Harry’s voice hung above the now-quiet crowd as his wand idly spun between his fingers, yet none dared to volunteer, causing him to scoff and walk off the podium.

“I think that was a sufficient demonstration, Mr Potter, if not quite what we needed. I must remind you all that this club is a place of learning, not a way to settle petty disputes, so be respectful. Well then,” Flitwick coughed loudly, but his eyes were full of mirth. “Let us split into three groups. Come on, quickly now-“

“What spell was that?” Diana curiously asked as Harry rejoined their group.

“I didn’t really use a proper spell,” he said curtly. “Mostly intent on tearing the plank out and smacking the proud dolt in the face.”

22nd December 1992 (17 days later)

Juno

Her parents were free again. It made Juno angry, especially since they had not even attempted to contact her, as if she didn’t matter at all. No explanation, no reached out hand towards their sole daughter. No show of love towards her or the family, nothing. Not even a single letter. It only solidified her hatred.

Once again, they had chosen loyalty to the dark lord rather than their own family, their daughter. It was like an old wound had reopened in her heart, and the rage festered inside her chest.

Her existence was once again ignored.

A part of her only got angrier, but Juno pushed down the bubbling fury. She had time to decide what she wanted to do with her parents–or if she wanted to do anything at all.

Not even Voldemort had dared to step into Hogwarts with Dumbledore inside the school, and her parents wouldn’t do something as foolish either. So, for now, Juno was safe.

While Harry didn’t bother coming to the duelling club again, Juno continued attending. Duelling had proved the much-needed distraction in the last weeks, and the seventh years were decent opponents that pushed her in different ways than Harry or the Carrows. The more she fought against them, the more she won, and by the time Yule rolled around, Juno felt quite satisfied with her gains.

Yet her progress in Transfiguration had begun to stall. Delving further into each branch of Transfiguration had become exponentially more demanding on her magic and psyche, and even Dumbledore’s explanations barely helped along. At least the detentions had ended…

Then there was Harry, who was still training hard but had shifted his focus from standard spells and chain spells to various miscellaneous things, such as the basics of wandless magic, modifying spells, and pure intent-based magic.

Many chose to spend this winter holiday behind the safe walls of Hogwarts, but Juno and Harry had plans that couldn’t wait and had decided to return home, which was completely different from last year. Thankfully, the train ride went without a hitch.

They met in Diagon Alley, wearing enchanted cloaks that concealed their facial features.

“I thought Professor Black wouldn’t let you leave,” she mused as a cloaked Harry finally revealed himself on the stairs to Gringotts. Despite the dark robe and the cowl that covered his face, Juno immediately recognised the familiar emotions of caution and excitement bubbling behind a now quite thick wall.

He slightly lowered the cowl, allowing her to see his face from up close despite the obscuring enchantment, and Juno did the same. It wouldn’t do if they were noticed now, so caution was paramount. It would almost be easy to think Harry was paranoid, but Juno knew the value of secrecy.

“Convincing him wasn’t half as hard as I thought,” Harry replied, but his face had twisted into a grimace. “But the damn dog probably thinks we’re on a date.”

“This can be considered a date of sorts–a social meeting in the broadest sense,” she said with her lips quirking. However, Juno’s gaze lingered on Harry a bit longer than appropriate. He had grown over an inch since that mishap, and this faint feeling of danger that was coming from him seemed more subdued but still there. Even if it were a date, she wouldn’t mind if it was Harry. “By the way, did you prank yourself and the Gryffindors?”

“Oh, you think it was me?”

“A dungbomb for dinner in the middle of the Gryffindor table wasn’t very original. But nobody could catch the culprit, which makes me think it was you. And then you doused your food with that colour-changing potion to further reduce suspicion of yourself. It’s quite unusual, considering you have avoided the food that the Weasley twins had messed with before.”

“Okay, it was me,” Harry confessed with more annoyance than amusement. “My punishment for being a supposedly naughty godson was to pull three pranks, and I count pranking myself as one of them. Though Sirius still suspects I wasn’t entirely truthful, even if he doesn’t show it. He’s far more… observant now and doesn’t let me go out as easily, especially with all those Azkaban prisoners roaming on and about. Even getting him to agree to this visit was a struggle.”

“The DMLE has killed thirteen and recaptured forty escapees in the last month, but most were petty criminals,” Juno recounted as they walked into Gringotts. “Cassiopeia thinks a good chunk have fled the country, while the dangerous ones linger in Wizarding Britain. Accidents in the muggle world increased threefold last month alone, and many suspect it’s the work of that pyromancer. Minister Fudge’s reputation is in shambles, and people are calling for his resignation. A pity the DMLE has responded adequately for the most part, though. I’ll admit, posting Alastor Moody and his trainee at Hogwarts to protect the school was a well-played move.”

Just like the Alley outside, the wizards and witches inside the bank were hurried and spoke in hushed tones, afraid to attract too much attention. Even with Yule and the New Year celebrations coming, things didn’t seem very festive.

“Most wizards and witches are spineless cowards unless they band up in big numbers,” Cassiopeia always said. And by all accounts, she was right. Juno wondered how her great grand-aunt was doing with that assignment. Hopefully, she would heed her warning about Voldemort’s traps and not allow her disdain for the half-blood bastard to cloud her senses.

Shaking the errant thoughts, Juno boldly made her way to the private counter in a lonely corner.

“I wish to make a withdrawal from the Lestrange vault,” she whispered the last part, placing the key on the desk before the goblin.

The teller blinked a few times at the key, spun it around his bony fingers, and his eyes squinted at Juno.

“You’re neither Lord Lestrange nor Lady Lestrange,” he growled. “You cannot access the vault with the key unless you have written permission from the owner. Remove your cowl before I call the guards.”

“There’s no such law,” Juno pointed out, her voice turning frosty as she lowered the cowl, revealing her face. “I know Gringotts laws by heart.”

“There was no such law in the past, but the management decided to change things after that break-in last year,” the teller drawled mockingly. Then, he extended his hand. “Permission slip?”

“Surely you can overlook such a misunderstanding in favour of the vault owner’s sole heir?” Juno said, sneaking a pouch of galleons over the counter. “I can hardly get any permission from my parents since they’re escaped convicts.”

“That does not concern Gringotts, and yet…” the teller warily glanced away to see if anyone else was looking and then greedily peeked at the pouch. “The elders will definitely have my hide if they find out–” Juno deposited another pouch, and the greedy goblin’s face was hastily plastered with an oily smile. “Lady Lestrange, I will summon Rotclaw at once.”

Harry sighed as the goblin disappeared into one of the small doors behind the counter.

“How much did you pay him?”

“Seven hundred galleons. Goblins are greedy creatures, but I’ll recover my losses after I sweep the Lestrange Family Vault clean.”

“Why didn’t you do so earlier?”

“My grandfather on the Lestrange side sealed the Lestrange properties in case of his untimely death. Naturally, I could have entered when I turned seventeen, but there was no need to break into my own estate. Now, with my father and uncle on the run, Aunt Cassiopeia sneaked into Corvus’s personal study and pilfered the key.”

At that moment, the teller arrived with another frowning goblin, possibly the aforementioned Rotclaw.

Fifteen minutes and one wild ride on the cart later, they were in the dark, damp depths of Gringotts. This seemed to be the end of the cart track, and something big stirred in the darkness–probably some additional protection the goblins employed. Whatever it was, the goblin quickly silenced it after withdrawing some sort of metal contraption and banging it together loudly. Juno frowned when Harry’s tense shoulders eased, but his eyes still glared at the darkness.

She shook her head before following the goblin to her parents’ vault. The Lestrange Vault had an elaborate metal door engraved with all sorts of goblin runes and curses. The goblin shoved the golden key into the tiny keyhole in the middle and placed his palm on the metal. The protection simmered as the door swung open with a groan.

“I assume all the curses have been dispelled?” Juno asked.

“As long as you enter the right way,” was the laconic reply.

“And what’s the right way?” Harry wondered aloud, but when no reply came, he sighed and tossed a galleon to the greedy goblin.

“With a key. Get on with it, humans.”

Juno cautiously stepped inside the vault and stretched her senses to the limit. The insides were dimly lit, and of course, she sensed nothing. Harry also cautiously stepped in, but not before casting some sort of voice-muffling charm at the door to prevent the goblin from hearing them.

“So… check for the cup and get out?”

“No, now that my parents and uncle are roaming about freely, I shall take everything instead, just in case,” she said. “No way those cretins will waste even a knut of my fortune on some filthy, lying, half-blood cretin.”

“I’m also a half-blood, you know,” Harry reminded her languidly, his eyes roaming over the small hills of gold lying around that probably made his own fortune look pitiful. Then, his gaze halted on a wicked-looking goblin-made dagger and the set of armour next to it. They also had a fancy executioner’s axe by the weapon’s stand, but this one was definitely of wizard’s make, judging by the dark metal, lined with smoky ripples that shimmered with a dark purple glow.

“Yes, but you’re neither filthy nor a liar nor a cretin,” she returned with a scoff, bumping their shoulders lightly. “I brought ten mokeskin pouches to clean this place. Here, help me separate the gold from the other items. Artefacts for one pouch, books for another, potions for third, and gold for the rest.”

She shoved five pouches in his hands.

The cavernous vault was emptied three hours later, revealing bare walls and black tiles on the floor. “There it is,” Harry said midway, pointing at a small golden chalice.

They found the Hufflepuff Cup, and Juno took out her pair of dragonhide gloves as it couldn’t be levitated. As Harry had predicted, it refused to go into the mokeskin pouch. On her aunt’s advice, Juno had carefully placed it into a box of lead and iron that would prevent the Horcrux from doing anything funny.

The box was quite heavy and had to be carried in a separate rucksack.

“I have yet to find any trace of the diadem, but your House Elf has found the locket, and your aunt will check for the ring,” Harry mused aloud. “Now we have the cup, and Dumbledore has the diary. There’s only the snake remaining–if it’s even one. Things are looking up for once, but we mustn’t let our guard down yet. Horcruxes are full of nasty tricks and curses.”

“Indeed,” Juno agreed before proudly straightening her back and gazing at Harry. “I told you I’d be of help.”

“Can you send the cup away with your House Elf?”

“Goblins have enchanted all of Gringotts against House Elves and their teleports and invisibility,” she explained happily as she almost skipped to the entrance—that would not do, even if she were glad to prove to Harry how crucial her help was. “Diagon Alley has done the same after some idiot was caught stealing from an apothecary with his House Elf a century prior. Anyway, let’s leave.”

“Hmm, it feels wrong to leave this place so empty after taking so much.” Harry halted at the entrance and turned back to face the empty vault. His hands disappeared in his dark robes, and he stuck something on the inside, just above the vault door.

“Dungbombs, Harry? Really?”

“I got leftovers from my ‘detention’ with Sirius, so… why not? Imagine their faces when they enter and see everything empty, only for a dungbomb to smack them on the head!”

Snickering, the two left the vault as Rotclaw impatiently tapped his leg, and his face was twisted into an ugly snarl.

“For your time,” Juno tossed him another galleon, but she earned herself an enraged growl that amused her more than anything. The greedy bugger wanted more, but she was not spending even a knut more in this accursed place. Or at least not today.

After a quick ride back, they were back in Gringotts’ Main Hall…which was filled with panicked wizards and witches and angry goblins shoving and arguing with them.

The reason for their panic became clear as the goblin guards clad in silver armour barked orders.

“Out!” The goblins were herding the wizards towards the main entrance. “In two minutes, the bank shall be sealed, and any wizard left inside will be considered a thief or enemy of Gringotts!”

“But they’re fighting outside–”

“Precisely, witch!” one of the goblins growled out. “And this is none of Gringotts’ business. If you want to be protected here, we charge a fee of a hundred galleons per minute.”

Which was a daylight robbery that nobody would ever pay. Those who were foolish enough to do so could have never held that much gold anyway. Worse, these were goblins, the clan of creatures where green ran thickest; there was a significant chance they would keep the doors closed to clean your wealth to the last knut. If they felt particularly nasty, you might disappear once your gold ran out, never to be seen again.

Harry had already drawn his wand and halted a panicked wizard.

“What the bloody hell is happening out there?”

“Someone set the magical instrument shop on fire, and a group of thugs rushed out from Knockturn Alley, cursing everyone they encountered and trying to break into Ollivander’s. But once they realised it was warded tighter than a Gringotts vault, they started knocking people out and taking their wands.”

Harry cursed, even as he scoffed at several goblins scowling and outright showing their bared teeth at the wizard for insinuating their vaults were not safe. Juno took a deep breath as the weight of the rucksack holding Helga’s cup in her hand felt oddly heavy. With some struggle, she hastily put the rucksack on her back and fastened it tight through her shoulders.

“The Aurors should be here soon,” she muttered as they slowly made towards the exit.

“I doubt it.” A worried witch with a red hat coughed. “My brother works for them and was posted here at Diagon but was recalled because Bellatrix Lestrange had gone on a rampage in York with three other Death Eaters.”

The ball of dread in her stomach burned away, giving way to churning anger.

Harry quickly squeezed her shoulder, and Juno exhaled, letting her emotions drain out. Not only was it harder than usual, but with her emotions dwindling, her strength seemed to leave her body, too, as if she was suffering from a nasty curse. Was this the effect of the Horcrux?

“Did you bring any portkeys?”

“Nobody brings portkeys to Diagon,” she replied, fighting panic and hysteria–she failed, and it showed on her face. “And my aunt hasn’t taught me how to apparate!”

Her heart thundered like a war drum; Juno was not ready for this. She had not prepared…

But Harry was calm as a cucumber. His face was filled with resolve as if this was merely another duel. How could he be so… composed?

“Well, then. We’ll try to sneak our way to the Leaky and catch the Floo, and if that doesn’t work, then we fight! Unless we can convince someone here to apparate us away.”

Yet all the wizards and witches hastily moved away from Harry and Juno as if they were lepers and rushed outside the bank.

“Bloody cowards!” she swore angrily as they reached the bank’s doors.

Surely enough, there was nobody on Gringotts’ stairs as the wizards and witches were hastily apparating away as soon as they left the heavy steel doors, which slammed shut behind them.

A few nails, noses, ears, teeth, and even fingers littered the marble stairs below, doubtlessly the result of splinching. There was even a whole hand lying in a pool of blood over there.

“Disillusionment, now,” Harry whispered as he grabbed her hand. “Nubilus Obscurus!”

“Nubilus Obscurus!” Juno echoed.

The cobbled streets of Diagon Alley were a mess. A thin veil of acrid smoke wafted through the air, and as the sun set, mist was beginning to take hold of London from the Thames. Many windows were shattered, people were screaming, and a few figures in tattered robes manically blasted curses in every direction, their cackles outing them as lackwits or loons.

Juno hardly had time to look as Harry hastily dragged her through the streets. Her mind was a quagmire, and her limbs were heavy. This… she had felt this before when facing the Wampus Cat.

Fear.

“EXPULSO!”

The cobblestones five yards from her feet erupted. She tried to turn around and shield, but her limbs were too stiff, and the rucksack on her back felt like an unmovable mountain. Stabbing pain flashed through her mind as the world darkened, as a pink spell crashed into her chest.