Chapter Text
March 1996
Curiosity mixed with unease filled the room as the occupants awaited for whatever was about to be revealed. Harry and Hermione remained still in their seats, snapping out of their daze only when their third best friend approached.
"H-Harry, Hermione, can we talk?" the nervous redhead asked, hands tucked into his pockets. Others sitting nearby watched the developing scene. Harry flinched, clutching Hermione’s hand—still uncertain of their relationship, but holding her hand felt right. Hermione, sensing the tension in Harry's body, fixed her gaze on Ron. Her eyes bored into her 'friend' as she processed everything, one thing becoming crystal clear. She needed to clarify that she saw Ron only as a sibling-like friend, and that she felt something more towards Harry.
Ron understood that if he wanted to mend his friendships properly then he needed to apologize to express his feelings, to listen, and be prepared to rebuild their relationship from the ground up. His heart pounding, he slightly opened his mouth and began, "I am sorry for what my older self did. And not just that, because what he did was truly horrible, but I am standing here to also apologize for my own past actions."
Both Hermione and Harry froze at this. "R-ro—" Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.
"Hermione, please let me finish." Hermione snapped her mouth shut, watching her friend intently. "I feel like I need to apologize for what he did, but even more so for what I had done to the both of you. We will see everything we have done in the future, as well as what we have already done, and I just... I realized I never truly apologized for my past actions. Not really..."
To prevent anyone from overhearing, Harry subtly cast a Muffliato charm. This action unsettled the others. Hermione’s mother was about to intervene but was stopped by her husband, who understood that this was her daughter's relationship and, whether they liked it or not, Hermione had to be the one to work through it.
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“Ron,” Harry finally said, but Ron immediately cut him off too.
“I still want to be your friend, but first, I need to say this. I swear on my magic I had absolutely no idea either you or Hermione were under any potions. The way I acted was entirely because I genuinely believed what you were telling me and how you were acting was real. I would never want a forced relationship with either of you. I love you both dearly and completely. I never would have tried to come between you and Hermione unless I truly thought you two didn't have genuine feelings for each other.” He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, and his eyes dropped to the intertwined fingers of his friends. He still looked hurt, but he knew he couldn't change the situation.
“Ron, we—” Hermione and Harry started at the same time, only for Ron to interrupt them once more.
“Please, let me finish.” He took a deep breath and continued, “I can see that you both do have feelings for each other. And I have... I had feelings for Hermione.” Hermione’s eyes widened, and Harry flinched, tightening his grip on her hand. Both stared up at Ron, surprised by his directness. “And I thought you felt the same way, but even so, I treated you terribly. Our first year, I made you cry, which led to you being in that bloody bathroom, and I didn't even try to help you until Harry dragged me there. And Hermione—I truly am sorry. After that, I-I saw you, Mione. You became more than just a swot; you became a friend. My friend. Harry’s friend. You even lied for us—you compromised yourself. And then you protected Harry at his first Quidditch match, only a few days after the troll incident. Yet, I never once apologized for what I did.”
“And then, third year,” he continued, taking a deep breath. “Bloody hell, Hermione, we were supposed to be friends, yet I was completely oblivious to your struggles that whole year. And I made things worse. I knew Harry wanted to talk to you, but I was the one who blocked it. All you were doing was trying to help him.” He licked his lips before continuing.
"Yes, I was annoyed you went to McGonagall about the broom, but honestly, you had every right to. That was the beginning of the rest of Gryffindor ostracizing you. All over a broom that did come from Sirius, yes, but at the time, your worry was completely justified. For Godric’s sake, it could have been any one of You-Know-Who’s followers trying to harm Harry. But we—mostly me—were more upset about Quidditch. And I probably caused you even more stress.”
"I’m sorry. I’m so bloody sorry to you, Hermione, and to Crookshanks. He was protecting us; he tried to catch Pettigrew. Yet I still treat him horribly. Maybe that's why he doesn't like me.” He admitted, looking at Hermione. Her eyes were glossed over as Harry continued to hold her hand.
"Ronald, please don't interrupt me. Thank you for the apology, and I must apologize as well—to both of you. I always feel the need to be right, even when I'm wrong, and even when I am right, I still manage to make things worse. I should have been more apologetic about Crookshanks. I kept saying he was part cat, but that was wrong. I did many horrible things that year, like ignoring others' feelings.
I should have talked to you again, Harry, about the broom instead of going straight to Professor McGonagall. I truly wanted to keep you safe, but I chose the worst way to do it and handled it poorly. I was even horrible to Lavender about her rabbit." Hermione licked her lips, her cheeks wet with tears. Taking a deep breath, she continued.
"I never knew how to make friends. You and Ron are my first. Everyone else ignored me because I always had my nose in a book. I was—and still am—blunt, and I didn't know how to treat people. And I apologize for correcting you like a teacher during Charms in first year, Ron. And to you Harry for pushing you to see Ron's side last year when you had been dealing with the stress of the tournament, and especially for not writing to you this summer, Harry. Dumbledore forbade it, but I should have been there during your worst experience. I'm still learning, but I need both of you and I want to feel like you both need me."
She sniffled as she spoke. Harry leaned in and hugged her, disbelief still on the boys' faces. Ron stared, but not with contempt—with understanding.
“Don't apologize, Mione. I love you as a friend,” Ron started. He then turned to Harry. “Harry, I owe you an apology too. I should have written over the summer, Dumbledore be damned. You deserved better. Also, I was a complete prat last year and never fully apologized. You easily accepted me back after I abandoned you, my friend, my brother. I let jealousy over something you couldn't control make me hurt and ignore you until you faced a bloody dragon. I am truly sorry for my actions. And Mione, I’m also sorry for the Yule Ball fiasco. Insulting you by implying you were lying, and the whole night—I was a prat. I’m sorry to both of you for being such a poor friend.”
Harry waited until his friends were finished, then pulled both Ron and Hermione into a tight hug. “Both of you,” he started, his voice thick with emotion, “thank you for being my friend—no, you both became more than that, and I love you both. I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess.”
“Harry, don't ever apologize for us being here. We want to be here by your side, mate,” Ron insisted.
“Honestly, Harry, we are with you until the end,” Hermione affirmed. Harry's shoulders slumped, all the tension draining away as he held his two best friends.
“So, too bad, Harry. You're stuck with us.”
“Always,” Hermione added, stifling a sniffle.
After a while, the trio broke apart, wiping their tears. They finally registered the fact that they were not alone. Their parents, Sirius, and Remus had been watching them intently, having overheard enough to know the conversation was deeply significant, but not enough to understand the full context. The three teens looked quickly away from the adults and at one another. The silence was oppressive.
Ron was the one to break the tension, his voice a low realization. “They are going to find out everything.”
The teenagers froze, eyes widening. They avoided looking at anyone else as, in unison, they declared the shared, inevitable truth: “We are truly fucked.”
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Theo and Ara sat together, still holding hands. The other students mostly left them in peace, until they were joined by Selene, The Tonks, Evan, Phineas, Blaise, Pansy, Tracey, Luna, Xenophillius, Draco, and the Malfoys.
"Why do I have to hear about my housemate and his twin being my cousin in front of everyone?" Draco asked irritably, crossing his arms in annoyance.
"It was for safety, my dragon. His followers were still active, after all," his mother explained. "I was sworn to a vow by Melania Black."
"Arcturus' wife? Why is she involved?" Andromeda inquired.
Evan's voice was heavy as he answered, "She tried her hardest to steer the Blacks away from Riddle, but your Head of House at the time—Arcturus—was adamant that the Blacks fall in line. She was the reason the twins and I went into hiding. Her personal elf rescued the twins the night Mary died. She was one of the only people who knew about them. She also helped hide us and altered the tapestry, as she had control over it then. The charms would only have been lifted when either Phineas or Ara made contact with the tapestry." Everyone paused, taking in the full truth that Evan had never shared before.
His aunt Andromeda interjected with a solemn tone, "We also still do not know who murdered Mary."
"We are likely to discover what happened that day," Evan growled, making Selene gulp and tighten her grip on her friend's arm.
"Do you think we'll witness a part of what transpired during the First War?" Selene asked. The adults fell silent, all looking grim. Phineas sat close to Ara, with Luna beside him. The snakes took up part of the Hufflepuff table next to Theo. Theo focused on the untouched cages as Stella and Mia moved near the professors' entrance. A very angry Minerva McGonagall then stormed in, drawing many questioning looks.
‘I wonder what happened?’ A sickening feeling settled in the pit of Theo’s stomach as he ignored a very annoyed Draco.
Lucius was the only one in this group still visibly unsettled, but he understood that if he wanted to keep his family whole, he needed to make an effort with those his family held close.
Draco paid no mind to his father's obvious discomfort. Instead, his gaze swept over the small group, eventually settling on his brunette housemate, Tracey, who was animatedly talking with Pansy. Pansy noticed the focus of his eyes on her friend. A smirk played on her lips as she teasingly wrapped an arm around Tracey, eliciting a laugh from her. Draco narrowed his eyes, a sharp pang of annoyance and jealousy running through him. He quickly dismissed the feeling, remembering he wasn't alone. He caught his mother's knowing gaze and her subsequent smile, causing him to gulp. Leaning in to talk to Blaise, Draco sought to avoid the subject of the witch he'd been preoccupied with since first year. His thoughts drifted, ‘Had me and Tracey become something more? Did I have the future I desire with her?’ He was gripped by a terrible premonition that he had not, and he feared what he might do when the truth inevitably came out.
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An angry blonde Slytherin glared at the table, knuckles white on the tablecloth, her jaw set in fury. The Great Hall's noise faded beneath the roar of frustration as she thought, ‘All my plans going up in flames.’
The subtle, meticulous manipulations had failed, derailing her future plans. The public humiliation and crack in her facade of icy competence and influence threatened the reputation her mother guided her to build. This failure, caused by "stupid bints," would not stand. The responsible party would pay. She needed a quick solution before the whole truth emerged, though she suspected Theo already knew everything and had escaped. Now, she would focus on Plan B—securing Astoria's marriage to Draco. Daphne smiled, a new sense of relief washing over her.
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For most of his life, Dumbledore had been a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin today. Despite significant resistance from the Ministry, he was acutely aware that war was imminent. He knew every move that would be made, having been shown the life of Harry Potter by a hooded figure during the summer of 1979. Knowing the ultimate fates of both his allies and his enemies, Dumbledore chose not to intervene, deciding instead to let events unfold as he had foreseen.
Allow the Potters to die.
Allow Regulus to die.
Allow Snape to be his spy.
Allow his order members to die.
Allow Harry to go live with the abusive Dursleys.
Not tell Ivory of her lineage.
That Harry had more family.
Allowed the Longbottoms to be crucioed.
Allow Sirius to be thrown into Azkaban.
Allowed Pettigrew to live with the Weasleys.
Allowed Pettigrew to come to school.
Allowed Sara Pettigrew to still roam free.
Allowed Lucius Malfoy to roam free.
Allowed a Baslik to be let loose.
Allow Ginny to be possessed.
Allowed Dementors to roam the school grounds.
Allowed Harry to be part of the Tournament.
Allowed Harry from being taken during the 3rd task.
Allowed his friend to be captured just before his teaching post.
Allowed the Dementor attack.
Allowed his order member to come face to face with Nagini.
He was to allow Harry and his friends to go to the ministry.
Allow Draco to be a death eater.
Allow the mistreatment of Slytherins.
Allow Sirius to be a prisoner once more and die.
Allow Harry and Hermione to be potioned if it meant what he knew to remain true.
For all to remain the same.
He knew it all and let them play.
For the Greater Good.
Albus Dumbledore, keeper of his most guarded secret—his knowledge and his compulsion to preserve the timeline—immediately sensed the gravity of the situation upon seeing Mia and Stella. Their unexpected appearance, an event completely absent from his foresight, signaled that the timeline was beginning to unravel. Standing in the hidden wards of his office were the two enraged young women, alongside a highly agitated Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Madam Amelia Bones.
"Now Miss Black and Evans-Pott—" Dumbledore began, only to be sharply cut off by a sneer.
"No. Listen here, Albus Dumbledore," Mia tore in. "This is extremely serious, sir. We came here to establish a clean slate—to ensure Harry and his friends would not be held accountable for the actions of their future selves. And yet, here you are, implying you knew everything that was going to happen since June of 1979? Are you bloody kidding me? You could have prevented all those deaths, but you remained silent because you believed this was the best way to winning the war." Stella stood beside her, shaking her head in utter disgust.
“It was for the Greater G-”
"Enough, Albus! To think you knew everything bad that was going to happen and yet you allowed it." Professor McGonagall retorted, her voice shaking with anger.
"Now, Minerva, it was-"
"One of the sheer dumbest ideas you've ever had, Albus! You held the key to ending the war before it even began, and you let it happen anyway. We have children fighting, and so many were orphaned. You could have stopped this, but you chose not to. How do you justify the heartbreak and devastation for a victory—a hollow victory, at that?" Shaking her head, she stormed out of the room. Amelia Bones stood with her hands on her hips, a picture of severity.
"This is serious, Albus." Dumbledore's shoulders slumped in defeat. Stella sensed that he hadn't intended for this outcome, but he was responsible nonetheless. She took a deep breath before finally speaking.
The young girl, speaking with blunt determination, declared, "From this time moving forward—no more secrets, sir. We are all here to end the war, and we are not sticking to the timeline. Not anymore. So, we will go out there and start changing it."
She then turned to Amelia Bones and Snape, taking a sharp breath. "Also, I should say that the three rats are Peter Pettigrew, Sara Pettigrew née McKinnon, and Clara Greengrass née Mulciber. They will remain where they are until the time is right for everyone to know the truth. So don’t try and get them; they have a sticking charm that only I can remove, and this is the only fun I will have with them."
She continued, "Rabastian Lestrange needs full immunity, and Barty Crouch Jr is a complicated matter, much like Pettigrew—and I will discuss that later when I show you all my memories. Yes, both Pettigrews faked their deaths, and Mrs. Greengrass killed my mother. But I need the evidence to be presented out in the open for me to unveil them. So, I will need Veritaserum, Mr. Snape.”
Snape and Bones stared at the girl as if she had grown a second head. Mia scoffed at her friend's directness. "Sorry, I know I should have waited, but I couldn’t. So let's go then." Linking arms with Mia. They were about to leave when Dumbledore cleared his throat.
Stella stopped abruptly, turning to face the older man who had addressed her. "Ms. Black, the locket around your neck?"
She sneered, "It’s real, so don’t test me. It’s safe with me, and when I don’t need it, I will hand it to one of my elves. So, if you’ll excuse me."
She spun on her heels once more, aware of the burning gazes from Mia and the three others in the room. She headed toward the Great Hall, leaving the four individuals completely stunned.
"Stella," Mia hissed, but Stella merely scoffed.
"I know it’s dangerous. If anything, I wanted to make a point. Plus, he knew where it was the entire time. And yet, he still allowed it to be nearly thrown out. And he would have allowed it to be stolen and taken Harry to that damn cave."
Stella recalled her own horrific trip to that cave, having to watch her own elf be dragged down by the Inferi, and then being left there to rot until Riddle deemed it fit. It was only by luck that Tom Riddle had no clue the Inferi would help rid Stella of the fragment of soul he had left within her.
They exited the room and entered the Great Hall.
Dumbledore attempted to speak to Snape and Bones but was immediately dismissed as they started heading toward the Great Hall themselves.
Amelia Bones asked in a solemn voice, “Did you know about the Pettigrews?”
Snape nodded curtly as he answered, "Mr. Potter, Weasley, and Granger had told me about Peter, but I let my own selfish need for revenge—for what Black and Potter did to me during 5th year—dictate my disbelief." The thought that the real betrayer of Lily and her family was alive and within his grasp, and that Dumbledore had known all along, was infuriating.
Amelia then moved to her next line of inquiry. "So my next question is Lestrange, and Crouch Jr."
"I knew they were both close to Regulus and Evan, but I thought after their deaths they lost themselves, much like I did after my friendship with Lily ended," Snape drawled. Amelia inhaled sharply, giving him a brief nod. The pair slowly made their way toward the Great Hall, leaving behind a very crestfallen Dumbledore. A final sneer from Phineas Nigel Black was the last sound heard within that room.
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The instant they entered the room, Stella pulled away from Mia and rushed over to where Harry was seated. Remus immediately tensed at the sight of her. Sirius elbowed his friend with a snort, causing Remus to flinch and shoot him a silent glare. Remus found himself admiring the younger girl's flowy, wavy hair and doll-like eyes. He quickly averted his gaze, trying to dismiss the thoughts, yet the sound of her voice stirred something inside him.
"Harry Potter," Stella said once she was close enough to be heard.
Harry turned to face the older girl, slowly rising up, the grip of Hermione’s hands slipped from his grip. Taking a deep breath, Stella began, "I'm sorry for what you've been through, but also, I'm sorry that I'll be showing your life. The older Harry wants the truth to be revealed, but honestly, it will be a very difficult truth to witness, and a lot of darkness will be shown. Like..." The words died on Stella's tongue as Harry stared at her, suddenly understanding her meaning.
“My parents' death.” Everyone around flinched, Hermione had come over to put her arm around Harry's. He was trembling slightly, but with a strong resolve he lifted his head. “It’s ok if you do. If it means everyone here understands what happened that day.”
"I will show what happened that day—the moment he showed up until his death. And that means," Harry inhaled sharply, looking around the small group. Remus and Sirius paled at the remark, while Stella nodded grimly. "The aftermath as well, right up until Pettigrew's... Well, I'll provide enough evidence so they can't possibly doubt that you were responsible for what happened. Let them know that you had no hand at the events other than you just being at the scene of the crime." She offered a small smile.
Sirius barked a laugh, attempting to lighten the tension. He moved to Harry and wrapped an arm around his godson, causing Harry to relax slightly at the touch. "Harry, will you be alright with witnessing that?" Sirius asked in a low, serious voice. Harry stiffened, recalling the voices and visions he had endured over the last few years. He knew the truth; he had seen it all. His Adam's apple bobbed before he finally spoke.
"Couldn't be worse than what I've already seen and heard," he whispered. Sirius and Remus froze. Before they could ask what he meant, he directed another question at them, “And you, Sirius? Remus? Would you both be okay?” They silently nodded in response. Stella cut in, interrupting the moment, sensing their questions they wanted answers.
"Sirius, we are going to see everything Harry has experienced, along with others' accounts." Stella said. Turning to Harry, she continued, "Harry, I'm glad you have your friends and family by your side." Stella blinked away the forming tears. Meanwhile, Molly had tried to protest, but was restrained by Charlie, Bill, and Arthur.
Moving toward him, Stella spoke to Sirius with resolve. "S-Sirius," she called out, inching closer. "I will make sure they will see the truth."
Sirius glanced at the cages. "Ah. The Pettigrews are there." Stella remarked
Remus seemed puzzled by her plural reference, 'Pettigrews?' He focused his gaze on the cages.
"But I need you to know something," Stella continued. "Pettigrew was partly at fault for James and Lily’s death." Harry and Sirius, angered, were about to interject, but Stella cut them off. "He still gave them up, but it’s not as black and white as it seems. And I can guarantee you will still be mad at Peter, but there is someone else at fault. And I have them in the other cage." Stella sucked on her teeth in frustration. Taking a deep breath to calm down.
Remus, surprised by Stella's calmness, was about to ask about a third person, but Stella spoke first. "The 3rd one killed my mother. The second one is also to blame for her death, and for many others in the Order, including your brother's, Mrs. Weasley," she murmured, tensing. Molly gasped. “I can't say more now. I only want the truth known. They will be exposed in this room. Please be patient. All that won’t be revealed through Harry’s, but through mine. What I witnessed and went through up until my own death.”
The people nearby looked torn by the implied secrets. Stella's eyes glossed over. Biting her lip, she pulled away. “Harry’s memories are dark but mine.. I was living with Riddle and his death eaters. I will try not to show most of what I saw. All that death, and torture, but many have hidden truths that people tried so hard to have buried.” She was met with stunned silence. In an attempt to shift the topic she turned to face her uncle.
Stella met Sirius’ piercing gray gaze without flinching. “My papa Evan tried, you know,” she told him. "He made a vow to protect my brother and me, but he did try. He tried so hard to get you a trial. It was your grandfather who blocked everything. Grandma Melania tried, too, but as a woman, there was little she could do. Just know that we never believed you would have done that to the Potters. From the stories Papa shared, you were loyal."
She inhaled sharply as Sirius continued to take in the young witch. "We used to call you a Gryffinpuff, if anything." Sirius blinked, and people nearby snorted at the nickname, but Stella wasn't laughing. Her eyes began to gloss over as she sniffled slightly. She continued, "You were loyal and caring to those you love. Remember, I'm a Puff, and so are Uncle Ted and Cousin Dora. When a badger is cornered, they tend to attack. We're underestimated simply because we’re smaller than a lion. If anything, we are resilient."
Stella smiled fondly, seeing a growing smile on Sirius’ face. He barked out a laugh. The other occupants in the room turned to look at the pair.
“You my dear, are a perfect mixture of Reggie, and Mary.” He said with a sad smile. Sighing sadly his shoulders sagged. “I failed him.” He admitted. Stella shook her head.
“From what I know, my father never wanted you to be at the end of Burgy’s wand. Not when you were kids and not ever again. She only did it once to him.” Her nose scrunched at this. Sirius’ body went rigid at the news.
“What?” It was like cold water was thrown on him.
“It happened the day my father died. Kreacher explained that before he left the house—protected by a charm—my father hid a box in his room, under a floorboard beneath his dresser. He hoped you'd find it after your parents’ deaths; it holds secrets for you from my father. When Grandfather Orion died, the house passed to my father, technically no longer belonging to the family but to him. This allowed him to cleverly loophole the will and leave the house to you, as you were exiled from the family at that point.” Sirius’ eyes widened.
Sirius swallowed, stunned by his younger brother's actions on his behalf. The words he wanted to say were entirely lost to him.
Sensing Sirius’ dilemma, Stella continued, “When you went to Azkaban, Wallburga lived in the house until you could have formally exiled her. Luckily, she died, and only you were able to open the home. My father also hid me and my brother from the tapestry. Hence why me, Phineas, nor my mother popped up. Wally saw before he was able to cover it though, Crucio'd him, but Kreacher stopped her. He worshiped my father,” Sirius scoffed, ignoring him she continued, “and saved him by defying Wally, hiding us and wiping her memory. My father loved you and never blamed you for leaving to save yourself.”
Tears welled in Sirius's eyes as the gravity of the truth hit him while he searched her face. "Reggie," was the only word he could manage. Remus reached out and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder as Sirius sharply drew in a breath.
Stella inhaled deeply. “You will be free, Uncle Sirius, and the truth will come out. You deserve the world—though there are a few things we need to discuss. Namely, your behavior toward Severus Snape.” Her cold demeanor and hard words struck him with cold severity. Sirius’s heart sank, his tears vanishing as his face went pale.
“You have to grow up and stop being an idiot. That means acknowledging the real wrongs you’ve done. The truth will be shown, and it isn’t pleasant. I love you, but you are a complete arsehole,” Stella stated, crossing her arms with a straight, changed demeanor. “You are going to apologize to Severus Snape—and genuinely mean it—before we even get to his fifth-year memories because they are not pretty Sirius Mr. I am Bored Orion Black.”
Sirius flinched at her words, “Fine.”
“Not fine. What you did was very serious uncle Sirius.”
Sirius tried to joke weakly, “I’m always Sir-” Remus smacked him.
“This is not a time for jokes, Sirius. You must be more mature and begin treating people—and creatures—with respect, whether they deserve it or not. You have to be a bigger person. Your current behavior will lead you down a path from which I guarantee there is no return. Sirius Orion Black, many people rely on you. You are a 36-year-old man, and it is past time you started acting like an adult. Harry, in particular, is counting on you.” He flinched at her words. “And that means putting on your big boy pants and manning the fuck up. My Sirius didn't have a nice, pretty future. So please, Sirius, don't fuck this up.”
Taking in her words, he nodded, squaring his shoulders back, “I promise I will, mini Reggie.” Sirius quipped. His warm grey eyes were fixed firmly on her, and a small smile formed on her lips.
“Thank you uncle Pads.” Sirius was caught off guard as Stella snorted. “I’m gonna head back.” With that Stella turned on her heels leaving behind a gobsmacked Sirius, a chuckling Remus, and stunned people around.
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Ivory gasped as the events unfolded, overwhelmed by everything she was learning—from her birth parents to her older self's death and the resulting betrayal. She was still processing the torrent of information and, in her distraction, had missed her opportunity to speak with her future self. A seed of suspicion also began to sprout regarding Mia's account of how she went off alone.
Clinging to Fred, her heart hammered in her chest. His arm was a protective anchor around her, and he kissed her head, ignoring his mother's judging gaze. His mother was likely wondering why he wasn't going to his own family, but he knew the truth in his heart: Ivory was his family now, and she needed him more than anyone.
Ivory sniffled, finally pushing him away. "Go to your family," she insisted.
“I won’t leave. You need me more. I won’t desert you.”
Ivory froze at his words. Her eyes darted around, catching glances from his family, most notably Molly Weasley. She then spotted her biological mother holding her son, her expression betraying a desire to speak. Knowing she needed more time to process the recent events, Ivory didn't move, instead leaning further into Fred's embrace.
“I think you died,” she mumbled, her eyes glazing over.
Fred’s grip tightened around her. "I think so too," he replied, his voice cracking. He pulled her closer, resting his head on top of hers. The conversation fell silent as they waited for the memories to begin.
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The truth's unveiling generated intense emotions. As the castle's residents re-entered the room, memories began to swirl, offering glimpses into the life and story of Harry James Potter. To prevent interruption or protest, Umbridge and Fudge had been silenced and magically bound to their chairs. Mia released the silencing and sticking charms, yet neither of them spoke or moved, their faces fixed in an expression of sheer disgust as they watched the projection.
Albus Dumbledore sat stoically at the table, along with a still agitated Minerva, Snape, and Amelia Bones. The rest of the table looked on in confusion, wondering what had transpired between them and the two girls.
However, their curiosity was quickly overshadowed when the projection shifted to show a house, followed by a man materializing seemingly out of nowhere.
Sirius, with Harry on one side and Remus on the other, flinched, his eyes soft and trembling at the sight. While many onlookers were confused by the scene, those in the know were visibly sickened. Yet, no one was more affected by the image than Severus Snape, whose face was completely drained of color.
The Hooded man lifted his head from under the cloak. Revealing a beautiful man with deep red eyes.
Evan, Lucius, and Snape recoiled from the sight of the young Voldemort, before he took his monstrous form.
“Who is that man?” Amelia Bones asked, though she suspected the answer, wanting confirmation nonetheless. Mia attempted to speak, clearing her throat, but the sight of the memory—and then Harry and Ivory—left her speechless, her heart seizing. Stella, understanding Mia's distress, turned to the older lady.
“The date is October 31st, 1981. That man is The man-who-shall-not-be-named, and he has just arrived at Godric’s Hollow.” Stella’s eyes remained on Mia, reaching for her hand to offer comfort. Fred did the same for Ivory, Hermione for Harry, Sirius and Remus, and Petunia held her son tight. Though a growing pain consumed them, they felt compelled to watch, needing to know what happened. Color drained from Amelia’s face and that of the other adults in the room. Only the bigots present seemed unmoved by the collective anguish.
A palpable shift in the protective wards signaled danger just as a figure descended upon the house. James rose up and looked out of the window.Upon witnessing Riddle, James looked intently at Lily. “Lils, take Harry and leave the house now.”
Lily hesitated, tears welling up. “B-but, James, what if—”
James cut her off, his earlier panic replaced with a desperate urgency. “Lily, this is serious! Go upstairs, take Harry, and go. Head to Sirius, Remus, Alice and Frank, or any Order member. The wards are broken.”
“Do you think—” Lily began to speak.
“Don’t mention that traitor’s name,” James sneered, cutting off his wife. He steered his wife towards the stairs. “Lily, I love you, remember that.” Lily, pulling away from a final, tearful kiss. Regardless of whether she and Harry escaped, James would face a life-or-death confrontation with Voldemort. Lily ascended the stairs toward the nursery. “Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off—" The sounds of someone stumbling from a room—a door bursting open— a cackle of high-pitched laughter was heard.
Eyes were fixed on the scene, a collective silence held, broken only by the sound of people clutching one another. They already knew the ending of this tale. Two youths, no older than themselves, were about to confront a depraved creature, utterly lost to reality. The light, they knew, was about to be extinguished.
"W-wait. Traitor?" Dawlish questioned. "That's Black."
"It is not. So hold your tongue and watch," Evan snapped, earning disgusted looks from the bigots. He ignored them, turning his gaze to Mia. Her pale face tugged at his heart. Selene saw his reaction, but remained silent.
James spun toward the door, his hand instinctively reaching for his wand. He then realized with a jolt that his wand wasn't on him; it lay abandoned on the couch. "Shit, my wand." Before he could move, a flash of green light struck him, and he dropped to the floor like a puppet with cut strings. The life drained from his eyes.
“Oh James,” Remus muttered, tears welling up. Sirius and Harry froze as they watched the scene unfold. There was no real warning for his death. It happened within moments.
Ivory clung to Fred, burying her face into his chest, feeling robbed of the opportunity to ever meet him. Her heart ached as Fred held her close.
Many people had their hands covering their mouths. Mia scrunched her nose, desperately trying to hold back tears. Stella moved closer, wrapping an arm around her friend.
"Never forget your wand. CONSTANT VIGILANCE," Moody's words echoed through the room. There was no harshness or malice behind the warning, simply the statement of a fact: Don’t leave your wand. Always keep it close, as you never know when danger will strike. No one spoke; the only sounds were the soft sobs and tears shed by many. There was no screaming, just silent, somber watching.
The scene shifted to Lily.
Snape flinched, turning away from the sight. His heart hammered in his chest, a stark reminder of the disaster caused by his foolishness. As the scene replayed, his gaze met Stella's. His mouth went instantly dry.
Slughorn recoiled in his seat. His favorite student. Against the one he used to care for. Before Riddle became the monster.
Lily burst into the room, her red hair ablaze as she rushed to Harry. She snatched him up and attempted to Apparate, but the magic failed. “No, my wand. I left it on the couch.” she gasped, gently setting Harry back down. A tear welled in her eye, but she blinked it away, quickly contemplating climbing out the window. Instead, she began frantically blocking the door with any furniture she could find. She searched her memory for an alternative, recalling old books about protection and sacrificial charms. She began inscribing runes, creating a protective wards against the great evil that sought to harm her son.
Flitwick spoke with a saddened expression, saying, “Lily was truly remarkable. She was top of her class and was actually studying to achieve her Charms mastery. She would have taken over for me.” The other professors agreed.
Horace Slughorn added, “She truly was. One of my best students. Right behind you, Severus, my boy,” which Snape acknowledged with a sharp nod. Many students watched as the professors fondly recalled the muggleborn witch.
Remus commented, “Yes, Lily really was, as the muggles say, running circles around us,” prompting a snort from Sirius. The warm, bubbly atmosphere vanished as quickly as it had arrived, replaced by the grim reminder of the imminent event they were about to witness.
Crouching before Harry's crib, she picked him up once more. She spoke through her tears to Harry. Her heart was heavy, yet her voice was filled with love. "Harry, darling. Mummy loves you. Daddy loves you. Never forget our love. Please live. Please survive, my love. We will always be right here." She gently touched his tiny chest, pointing to his heart, and the baby gazed up at her, reaching for her hair. Kissing the top of his crown, the tears continued to fall as she whispered her final word "Always." She held onto him as she felt the door burst open.
Snape stiffened instantly in his chair, a reaction noted by several observers. Evan, Lucius, Dumbledore, and the girls had been carefully watching the Potions Master. Despite their scrutiny, Snape ignored them, reinforcing his mental shields and forcing himself to watch the memories.
The collective gasp and yelps of the room's occupants rippled through the tense air, a wave of shock and shared sorrow. Faces contorted in a mixture of horror and pity. Several people instinctively raised their hands, shielding their eyes from the sight, while others openly wept, desperately trying to wipe their grief from their cheeks, trembling in their seats. The atmosphere was thick and heavy.
Harry sat rigid, the tears streaming silently down his face. They were not the loud, racking sobs of despair, but quiet, his mothers words rang in his ears. Ones that he had wished he had heard instead of her screams during his third year. Seeking warmth and comfort, he leaned heavily into Hermione, burying his face slightly into the curve of her shoulder. Hermione, though visibly distressed herself, instantly wrapped an arm securely around his back, offering a steady, unwavering anchor in the storm of grief that engulfed them all.
Petunia averted her gaze from the sight, covering her mouth, her heart aching at the last words her sister spoke to her son. The years of neglecting Harry now weighed heavily on her. She questioned how she had let it happen, remembering the Ministry's influence. Though Harry had been deprived of love and warmth, she still held herself accountable. She hugged her own son tightly. In the distance, Vernon had witnessed the entire scene. Still bitter, he sneered, but his reaction went unheard, as the witches still kept him silenced.
Sirius turned over to the blonde recalling his own relationship to his brother. The broken bonds of family.
Voldemort effortlessly forced the door open. She stood there, clutching the child tightly to her chest. Seeing him, she immediately placed her son in the crib behind her and spread her arms wide—a futile gesture, as if by shielding the boy from view, she hoped to be the one chosen instead.
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily begged
"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now." Voldemort hissed
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead -"
"This is my last warning -"
"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy.... Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything -"
"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"
Rather than physically forcing her away from the crib, he judged it more prudent to finish the task.
The green light flashed, encompassing the room, and she collapsed just like her husband. Throughout this, the child had remained silent. Standing and clutching the bars of his crib, he gazed up at the intruder's face with a certain bright curiosity, perhaps imagining it was his father hidden beneath the cloak, creating pretty lights, and that his mother would appear laughing at any moment.
Pointing the wand deliberately at the boy’s face, Voldemort's intent on witnessing the destruction of his singular, inexplicable threat. Harry began to cry, having realized that this was not James.
"Avada Kedavra!" The green light hit the baby boy and with that the man broke. He was nothing. The boy was crying heavily, echoing in the room as his hand reached past the bars of his crib for his mother who laid on the floor motionless.
Silence descended as the initial cries faded, leaving no sound in the aftermath. Some people maintained a stoic front, while others sought comfort in holding one another. History had been irrevocably altered by that single moment, though the general public remained unaware that a dark entity had simultaneously been reborn in that moment. The forward decided to hide.
At the head table, Minerva, Snape, Amelia, and the girls fixed their gazes upon the older man with undisguised contempt. Their disgust went unnoticed—or at least, unmentioned—by everyone else. Dumbledore clenched his hand, swallowing hard, a gesture of remorse for allowing events to reach this point. He was now compelled to witness the familiar course of history unfold.
Severus Snape remained in his seat, consumed by his own regret and grief. The memory of Lily Potter, her vision had been a constant and searing wound. The choices he made had led to her demise. The profound devastation of failing her—the only person who had ever truly seen him for him, but the thing is he had lost her way before that moment in time.
His failure was not just in his inability to save her life, but in his inability to rise above his own dark desires and pride. He had loved her, a selfish, possessive love perhaps, but a fierce devotion nonetheless. And now, that devotion manifested as a terrible, burdensome duty toward her son, Harry.
The boy, Harry Potter, was a living, breathing accusation. He possessed Lily's eyes, a cruel trick of fate that pierced Snape's defenses daily, yet he was undeniably James Potter's son in temperament and appearance. It was this constant, torturous duality that dictated Snape's interaction with the boy. He focused on Harry, obsessed with his protection and the fulfillment of his secret. An eternal vow to Lily. One that would never make up for his past mistakes.
He paid little to no mind to James Potter. Snape's regret was solely for Lily and the burden of her legacy—a burden that weighed heavily on the person he had become. The rest, including James, were irrelevant to his life's greatest failure.
Sirius and Remus rushed to Harry, embracing him as Hermione's mother pulled her daughter into a tight hug between herself and her husband.
The Weasleys clustered together, holding their children close. Ivory reflected on the loss of her father and aunt as she was held in Fred’s grasp. The Malfoys stared at the remorseless monster, the one they had chosen to follow.
"He is truly a monster," Ara murmured, her voice low as Theo comforted his visibly trembling girlfriend by wrapping an arm around her. Phineas kept his eyes fixed on the table in front of him, oblivious to the fact that Blaise, who had leaned closer to his crush, continued to watch him intently.
Their grief was suddenly cut short by the voice of a determined man, a voice that seemed to prove right what others had doubted—that the dark wizard had not returned.
"He is dead," Fudge announced, his voice amplified.
"He-who-must-not-be-named is gone, as you can clearly tell. He is—" Delores Umbridge's voice carried on with venom dripping from her words was abruptly cut off when Stella raised her hand.
Stella's voice was filled with absolute certainty, "Oh darling, this is only the beginning. So, will you kindly please shut the fuck up and pay attention? There is so much left to see." She then turned back to the memories as a new one began. Umbridge's lips tightened into a thin line.
Sirius sat on his bed as he looked up at the ceiling. Empty bottles littered a small table. Sirius sat up on the bed. A young handsome man that had not been touched by grief and 12 years behind bars. A man with little tattoos going up along his arm.
Many murmurs were heard, fueling the pureblood’s ego, helping him to forget the memories he had just witnessed. Snape sneered at this-for a split second, he too had forgotten what they had witnessed. He clenched his fist when he remembered, he slips her occlude shields up. Harry gulped as he felt Hermione hold his hand to calm him down. Sirius still had his arm wrapped around his godson, the scene continued to play.
A strange feeling settled over Sirius as the name, P%373, flitted through his mind. Sirius grabbed his leather jacket and stormed out of his home, taking his motorcycle straight to an apartment building. The door opened without resistance, allowing him to enter the small space. He immediately noticed how pristine the room looked, sweeping his eyes around the space, it seemed unoccupied. "That fucking R%7! W07^!@14," he sneered in frustration. He spun around, leaving the apartment door open as he went back to his motorcycle, pressing an invisibility booster before flying off toward Potter cottage.
“Wait, what is happening?” Phineas demanded. “I know the names are being omitted, but it sounds like someone else was responsible for what happened to the Potters, too.” Although everyone now had been told that Black was innocent, many remained unconvinced—especially Ministry officials like Umbridge and Fudge. The rest of the students watched in tense anticipation.
“You will see,” Sirius simply replied, wanting them to witness the true culprits for themselves. Stella’s earlier words echoed in his mind, ‘Who is also at fault for their death?’ He needed to pay close attention to the details he had missed before.
Remus slumped, his gaze falling upon his friend. The pure anguish on Sirius's face upon realizing Remus's belief—that he could betray James—would forever haunt Remus. Yet, Sirius hadn't exactly helped his case; the memory of what happened in their fifth year weighed heavily, and Sirius hadn't done an excellent job of staying on Remus's good side.
Sirius had made it to the cottage. Getting off his motorcycle, he slid off the helmet. He stared at the home that should have been under the Fidelous charm. Looking breathless, eyes glossed over as he barged through the gate of the home. His strides take him to the door of the cottage, his heart pounding. He placed his hand on the slightly opened door, and the first thing he saw was the lifeless body of his friend-his brother in all, but blood. His mouth gaped open as the tears began to slip from his eyes. The hinges of the door squeaked as he inched closer to James’ body.
As Sirius crouched down to touch James, a sharp cry was heard.
Sirius pulled away, drawing out his wand. He made his way to the stairs, eyes glistening from the tears. ‘Someone is here.’ With a strong resolve he slowly walked up the stairs finally being able to hear Harry cry. His wand still raised he made his way to the nursery where he was met with the lifeless body of a young Lily Potter. And standing close by was a giant man cradling a crying baby.
“Hagrid? W-what are you doing here?” Sirius asked.
Ted Tonks questioned, “Why is he there right away?”
The girls responded to the old man's query with glares. Dumbledore simply stated, “I sent Hagrid to get Harry.”
“Why?” Tonks persisted.
“You will see, Uncle Ted,” Stella cut in before turning her attention back to the ongoing scene.
"Dumbledore's orders," Hagrid insisted. "He told me to take Harry to the Dursleys."
"There's no need. I'm here. I can take him."
"Can't do that, Sirius. Orders are orders, even from Dumbledore." Sirius looked momentarily stunned by Hagrid's unusual firmness.
"But if anything went wrong, I'm responsible for Harry," Sirius argued, stepping closer but halted by the giant. "They never would have wanted Tuney and her oaf of a husband to raise Harry. Alice, Frank, and even Remus were the next people in line to care for Harry."
"I know, but Dumbledore wants him there," Hagrid repeated, unwilling to go against the Headmaster's wishes.
“Wait. Harry, you would have been raised with Neville?” Ron asked Harry. Harry didn’t react as he digested the new information of what could have been.
Murmurs arose at Ron's remark. Neville’s face paled as someone questioned, “But weren’t they hurt too?” Sirius's gaze was fixed on the scene, eyes flickering between a pale Petunia and Dumbledore.
Remus leaned in towards Sirius. “Dumbledore was very insistent that Harry end up with the Dursleys.” Sirius nodded in agreement.
“We will address him about it, the girls are throwing daggers at him. They know something they aren’t sharing,” Sirius quickly informed Remus. Remus's jaw tightened. He had consciously ignored the witch since earlier, finding it easier to put the issue out of mind. He remained silent, letting the new information settle.
“Fine, I’ll talk to Dumbledore later,” Sirius conceded. “Just ensure Harry is safe. Take my motorcycle, please. I don’t need it, but you and Harry do.” Though Hagrid looked wary, he agreed. Sirius quickly kissed Harry and whispered to the young boy that everything would be okay and they would see each other soon.
“Sirius, why did you say you wouldn’t need the bike again?” Remus questioned.
Sirius blinked and shrugged, feeling strange about his choice of words. "I don't know," he replied. "It was like I had to say it." He wondered why he had, in fact, given the bike to Hagrid as if he wouldn't require it later.
As the two rode away, Sirius quickly wiped away the forming tears, his demeanor shifting as he turned back toward the house. "Don't worry, Prongs," he muttered fiercely. "I will get P*&%$@. That damn R@%. I'll make him pay for what he did."
“Prongs?” George asked.
“But!” Fred continued.
“That.”
“Means”
"The MAP!" the twins chorused, turning to face Remus and Sirius, who nodded. They were about to ask which man was which when their mother abruptly interrupted them.
“What map?” Molly asked.
"Nothing," the twins, the Marauders, Harry, Ron, and Hermione responded in unison, which drew stares from the surrounding people.
“You’ll see.” Mia and Stella said in unison.
-
“Wait. What did the person Sirius was looking for do?” Terry Boot asked, shifting the focus..
“The Potters were put under the fidelous charm, in which they needed a secret keeper to hide their location.” Mia began to explain further the explanation on what the charm does for everyone to understand.
“Mr. Black wasn’t their secret keeper?” Bones asked. “But the person he had been looking for.” Fudge and a few other ministry workers had a grimace look plastered on their faces recalling who was the one that Black had faced hours later.
“No I wasn’t. At first I was, but I felt like it was too obvious to have me, so I urged them to change it.” Answered Sirius.
“Then who was it?” Bones asked, but she had a feeling on who it was. Her eyes wandered to the cage by the girls, recalling their words from earlier, but needing confirmation.
"You will see," Stella retorted with a smirk. Amelia, rubbing her forehead in frustration and already realizing the truth, closed her eyes. Snape stared at the cage with pure disgust, knowing exactly which rat one of the occupants was.
Sirius Black, visibly enraged, strode through the busy street. "That damn r*$!" he muttered. Spotting his friend, he closed in and sneered, "Peter!" The shorter man stopped abruptly, releasing something—or someone—that Sirius had not immediately noticed.
Many flinched at the names recalling what was about to occur. Remembering Sirius’ ‘crimes’. Sirius and Remus' eyes widened. Pulling away from Harry, Sirius whispered, "Pettigrew was with someone else." The memory of Stella implying another person was also at fault for the Potters' deaths flashed through their minds.
"Yes, he was, but I couldn't see who." They glanced towards the cage. One of the other rats had been the culprit. They weren't the only ones who noticed it.
-
Evan looked confused by Peter's hand action. Leaning toward Selene, he whispered, "Pettigrew wasn't working alone." Selene froze, her eyes wide.She was certain the person with Pettigrew was a blonde woman, though she hadn't gotten a good look. She recognized her from the Ravenclaw common room and remembered her chasing after Peter all those years ago.
She instantly recalled that same blonde hair from years ago—someone who should have been dead along with her entire family. "I think I know who it is, Evan."
"Who is it?" he pressed. She shook her head, refusing to answer, terrified that her suspicion was true.
Peter spun to face his former friend. It took a few moments for his cry to echo through the room. “Sirius, how could you? How could you give up Lily and James like that? They were your family. You… you damn coward.”
Sirius stared back, a mixture of anger and confusion clouding his eyes. Never seeing or hearing Peter act and say what he was saying and to cast blame towards Sirius. He drew his wand, intent on attacking Peter, but was too slow. Peter reacted first, blasting a crater into the middle of the street so deep it cracked the sewer below. The explosion threw Sirius backward, his own wand slipping from his grasp. Muggles screamed as bodies lay everywhere.
Selene grabbed Evan's arm, her attention fixed on a screaming blonde woman. The woman was trembling, facing a gruesome sight—a heap of blood and clothes. Evan flinched but followed Selene’s gaze, freezing as he recognized the woman. His mouth fell open. Ted and Andromeda noticed their reaction and leaned in.
“What is it, you two?” Andi asked. Evan shook his head, unable to look away as the older couple turned, confused by their intensity.
“That screaming woman. She should be dead,” Selene stated, murmuring the name, “Sara McKinnon.” She remembered the 1979 McKinnon family massacre, recalling her husband's boasts about the horrors inflicted on the family, especially Marls and Sara, with their relatives forced to watch. The Dark Mark had been left on the house.
“No, but you could be mistaken—”
“No, Andi. I’m not. For six years, I was forced to share a common space with that woman. If she faked her death and is close to Pettigrew, that means she was, or rather, is, one of them,” Selene sneered, shaking her head as the frightening truth slowly dawned on them.
At the head table, Snape watched the commotion with utter disgust, but he, too, recognized the blonde Ravenclaw. His fists clenched until his knuckles were white. ‘Sara McKinnon, now Pettigrew. She was part of it all.’
Stunned by the devastation, Sirius scrambled to his feet, losing sight of Peter in the chaos. Grief overwhelmed him, and he began to laugh hysterically, wiping tears from his eyes. As people fled the scene or tended to the wounded, Black walked over to what remained of Pettigrew, a heap of bloodstained robes and a few fragments. Sinking to the floor, he continued his maniacal laughter until the Aurors arrived to secure the scene.
The room was heavy with silence as they watched the man collapse emotionally. One truth was now undeniable, Sirius Black had not been responsible for the attack in London. "I remember that day. I lost my sister in that attack," Mrs. Granger's words echoed, drawing many eyes to her. Hermione gasped, seeing her mother's tears. She remembered seeing her sister in the crowd, then seeing her fall. Sirius slumped, his heart tightening. Another casualty, another loss for someone in this very room, and he felt the weight of the blame.
Stella, noticing his impending breakdown at the revelation, interjected. "It's not your fault, Sirius. It was that damn coward's fault."
Sirius was interrupted by a still tearful Helen Granger as he said, "I still am sorry for what happened. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t—"
Facing Sirius, she sniffled and insisted, "It is not your fault. Like the young lady—Stella—said. It was that Peter fella. The one who was supposed to be your friend." She pleaded, "Don’t ever blame yourself for what happened." Sirius went rigid as Harry reached over to hold his godfather.
"She's right, Sirius," Harry assured him. Blinking away unshed tears, Sirius hugged Harry.
"T-thank you, Harry," he mumbled, clutching his godson tightly.
"So Black didn't do it after all," Vance remarked with clear disgust.
Moody responded, "Seems not." Both knew the truth, and both had played their roles perfectly. Fudge, meanwhile, looked utterly crestfallen at the news. The enormous failure of due process by the Ministry had caused an immense uproar. Rita Skeeter scribbled furiously, her generally lackluster presence ignored as she had been granted the freedom to record the memories truthfully.
The events unfolded, exposing the absence of a proper trial and thorough wand inspection. The presence of Muggle witnesses, who had indeed seen and heard the incident, served merely as a smokescreen orchestrated by Pettigrew.
The purebloods reacted with sneers to the new detail. "So they could just snatch any of us and throw us into Azkaban," Theo sneered, his words echoing the disgust and anger of the Slytherins, who rose from the table. Bones, also disgusted, shot a look at Fudge and Umbridge. The former looked ashamed, the latter, still smug. Turning back to the girls, she shook her head.
Stella and Mia avoided eye contact with everyone else, leaning into each other. Mia admitted, "You were correct. Clearing this up so early throws people away from believing the Ministry's lies about his return. To see it so early." Stella gave a grim nod of agreement.
"It was a risk, but I would have done it again, that's for sure," Stella stated with determination. She moved away from her friend and crouched beside the cage holding the squirming rats. The spell was wearing off, and the rats were now fully aware of what had happened. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she addressed them, "Don't worry, only a handful know who you are. You are not going anywhere until the end, Pettigrews. And as for you, Mrs. Greengrass. You shall get your limelight. Isn't that what you wanted when you murdered my mother? As for you, Sara. Your crimes will be exposed—for what you did to the Potters, your family, the Prewetts, to Dorcas, and everyone left in the ruins you left." She finished with a sneer, tapping the cage and watching the rats tremble in the corners.
Pulling back, she met the gazes of Evan, Selene, her aunt, and her uncle. A growing dread suggested they shared her realization about the identity of one of the traitors. A small, confirming nod passed between them, a silent understanding. Seeing her reaction, they immediately went rigid. She inhaled sharply as the memory shifted again.
An image of a young Vernon Dursley, a large and beefy man with a considerable mustache and barely any neck, was displayed. He was the perfect example of self-satisfied normalcy, and the picture showed him intently focused on the road while adjusting his tie.
Some of the bigots scrunched up their noses as they glanced at the man who was held captive with a reddened face and then towards the image of his younger self. Petunia inhaled sharply at the view of her husband.
Vernon Dursley kissed his beautiful wife and his son. The latter, however, promptly threw a tantrum, scattering cereal everywhere. With a chuckle, Vernon merely muttered, "Little tyke."
Many people reacted to the man and child's behavior with disgust. Dudley, looking embarrassed, ducked down. Harry, rolling his eyes at the spectacle, merely snorted. Hermione, Ron, and several other Weasleys who knew the truth about the Dursleys' true nature found amusement in seeing them exposed. Petunia immediately covered her face, knowing precisely what was about to follow.
“What does he do to afford that smug attitude?” an older Slytherin sneered.
Vernon maintained an arrogant even in his silence. Petunia was quick to answer. “He is the director of a company called Grunnings. I-it’s a drill manufacturing firm.”
Vernon grinned, nodding, clearly taking immense pride in his life's work.
"Yes. Very normal, and very boring—just as it should be," Vernon declared as he got into the car and drove away. As he was exiting the street, he glanced over and noticed a tabby cat sitting on a garden wall, seemingly reading a street map. "What? What was that? A cat reading a map?" He blinked and turned back, peering closely. The cat stared back at him. He paused for a moment. "Right, as if a cat could read a map or a sign. Silly me. Just a trick of the light." He chuckled, quickly rationalizing the sight away and convincing himself it was merely a visual illusion and an overactive imagination.
“Minnie, you really ought to be careful about who might be watching,” Sirius teased, immediately earning a sharp glare and tightened lips from Mrs. McGonagall.
“That was highly dangerous of you, you could have exposed us,” Umbridge snapped, but Stella quickly cut her off, clearly annoyed.
“Yes, well, lucky for you, muggles have ways of rationalizing the unknown. Now, would you please be quiet before I do to you what I did to Mr. Dursley over there?” This remark brought snickers from the room's occupants, though some gave Stella disappointed looks for her sharp tone toward the older woman. Stella merely shrugged them off as Sirius muffled his mouth, shaking with joy. Remus tried to conceal his smirk, shaking his head. Harry, Hrmione, the Weasleys children, and a few other students appeared amused by Stella's antics. With the disruption handled, the group's attention returned to the memory.
Mr. Dursley had forgotten the unusual tabby cat as his day went on, but the strange occurrences intensified. The streets were now crowded with people dressed in long, flowing cloaks in colors he associated more with circus performers—emerald green and purple—than with respectable citizens. These individuals were gathered in excited, conspiratorial clusters, making no effort to conceal their presence. Mr. Dursley, a staunch advocate for conformity, was annoyed by their peculiar clothing and even more irritated when he saw some of them wearing odd robes.
Umbridge immediately snapped, "My word. No sense of discretion! The Statute of Secrecy!" While her voice usually irritated them, they conceded that her point was valid. Their celebratory behavior was reckless, even if understandable.
Mrs. Granger, however, looked displeased. She recognized their joy over the "bad man's" demise, but felt they were ignoring the fact that a boy had just been orphaned. She shook her head in disgust. "Yes, celebrating that man's demise should be good, but poor Harry, losing his parents. What a wonderful sacrifice," she sneered sarcastically, silencing the room. Her husband reached for her, but she shrugged him off, crossing her arms. She quickly apologized to Harry and the others for her outburst.
Harry was touched by the gesture, no one else had acknowledged his loss. Hermione sensed his emotion and sat with him again, leaning against him. Ron had occupied the other seat next to Harry, both reassuring him that he is not alone anymore. Hermione leaned in, kissing his cheek. He blushed deeply, nodded slightly with a smile.
"Thank you, Hermione, and you too Ron. And thank you, Mrs. Granger. No one ever really felt the need to give me condolences. They just focused on Voldemort's demise." Many flinched at people's lack of sympathy towards the situation, but more so with how easy he used the name, including Stella and Mia.
Noticing this Harry had attempted to ask, but Mia quickly explained, "Sorry we were so open saying his name before, but the past year for us—well, he had an unfortunate taboo on his name that would track people who said it. That's how many people died." Mia's voice trailed off as she looked down at the floor. The room stilled, and people shook their heads sadly.
"It’s okay to use it now, but I know not many are comfortable with it, which is why we call him Tom or Riddle."
"Riddle? Tom? Why those names?" Blaise asked.
"That's his name, but we are not going to say anything else. So don’t ask," Mia snapped. And no one did, but the initial question had been posed, and the ripple effects had begun.
Vernon Dursley had paid little notice to the cloaked figures until he caught fragments of their excited, whispered talk regarding the occurrences of the night before. Phrases such as "Potters," "Dumbledore," "Harry," and the unambiguous declaration, "The Boy Who Lived," reached his ears. The name "Potter," in particular, sent a wave of genuine dread and cold fury through Vernon, causing him to freeze. ‘Surely,’ he thought, many people shared the surname Potter, and at least a few had sons named Harry. ‘It simply couldn't be them.’ To calm himself, he firmly decided that Petunia's sister had a boy named Harvey—a sister he never willingly mentioned for fear of angering his wife. ‘Not to worry. They aren't talking about THEM, and the boy's name is Harvey,’ he concluded.
The name drew varied reactions, snickers from some, and disgusted head shakes from others. Petunia felt a wave of shame wash over her, sinking down as she reflected on her behavior. Her mind cleared, focusing on a single goal, 'I have to apologize to Harry.' She resolved, 'I need to prove to them that I never truly disliked him or Lily.' While jealousy of her sister was a real emotion, the hatred she had displayed was an over-exaggeration, largely influenced by spells. This realization left Petunia with a new, bitter resentment toward the influence that had manipulated her feelings.
Sirius watched her closely, observing her reactions and feelings. The woman he'd heard stories about was shifting before his eyes, and her emotional response resonated deeply with him. It brought his strained relationship with his own brother, Regulus, back to mind. The belief that he had thought poorly of Regulus had tragically cost them the time they could have shared.
The Ministry’s forceful actions against Muggleborns and Muggle-raised individuals were overwhelming, and the realization that Petunia never truly hated her sister struck a chord, feeling painfully close to home. It distressed him how external forces—old, deeply rooted ideas—could drive such wedges into families, separating them nonetheless. As she gazed up at the memory again, he slumped forward over the table.
The memory then shifted to Vernon Dursley, deep in thought about drills, when he collided with a peculiar man in a violet cloak. The man, seemingly unfazed by being knocked to the ground, prompted an annoyed Dursley to grunt, "Sorry," as he hastily brushed off his jacket.
“Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Re-joice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like your-self should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!” And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.
"That was incredibly reckless. That idiot man. Honestly, going up to a Muggle and just blathering in the open." Numerous Ministry officials shook their heads in disapproval.
"Well, he was celebrating," Arthur Weasley remarked, earning a sharp slap on his shoulder from his wife and a scowl from Mrs. Granger.
"Even so, the Statute of Secrecy must be upheld. Announcing our existence so openly is highly dangerous," Vance snapped, and many present concurred.
Mr. Dursley was frozen to the spot, having just been hugged by a complete stranger. The man's odd word, "Muggle," kept echoing in his mind, and he had no idea what it meant. Rattled by the encounter, he quickly got into his car and drove home, hoping, for the first time ever, that he was simply imagining things. "Imagination—pleh, what rubbish," he muttered dismissively.
Pulling into the driveway of number four, Mr. Dursley's irritation only grew when he saw the tabby cat from the morning. The animal, which he recognized by the distinct markings around its eyes, was now perched on his garden wall. "Shoo!" he yelled at it.
Minerva McGonagall let out a snort, drawing amused glances from many who found the "muggle's" reaction to their teacher funny, as he had clearly mistaken her for an ordinary cat.
Mr. Granger finally spoke, “Oh, that cat isn’t a cat, but a person.”
His wife tried to stifle a laugh, covering her mouth. “Dan, honey. It took you long to realize that.”
Her husband gave her a sheepish look. Shaking her head, she let out a soft laugh and tapped his knee. “Oh, honey.” The warm interaction lightened the mood.
Despite his lingering dislike for Muggles, Lucius found the open affection and gentleness they showed each other surprisingly endearing. He longed for that kind of freedom, but his manners from his pureblood upbring made it impossible.
The unmoving cat concerned Vernon, but he avoided discussing the day's strange events with his wife during dinner. After Dudley was asleep, Vernon finally brought up the earlier incidents. The newscast reported unusual, daytime owl sightings nationwide, a mystery to experts. The weatherman added to the oddities, mentioning a shower of shooting stars and confirming the strange owl behavior. Hearing this, along with seeing cloaked figures and the mention of the Potters, stunned Mr. Dursley.
Mrs. Dursley brought tea. Mr. Dursley nervously asked if she'd heard from her sister. Mrs. Dursley, who usually pretended her sister didn't exist, snapped, "No. Why?" Mr. Dursley mumbled about "Funny stuff on the news"—owls and strangely dressed people—suggesting it concerned "her crowd." Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea. Not daring to mention he'd heard the name "Potter," Mr. Dursley casually asked their son's age and name. Mrs. Dursley stiffly confirmed the boy would be Dudley's age and, when Mr. Dursley guessed "Howard," corrected him. "Harry. Nasty, common name."
Hermione scoffed at this as Petunia looked more ashamed by her comments.
“Hermione, it's ok.” Harry mumbled as Hermione shook her head holding onto Harry.
“It’s not Harry.” She bit out as Harry sighed.
His heart sinking, Mr. Dursley agreed. Later, while Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the window and saw the cat still outside, staring down Privet Drive as if waiting.
‘Am I imagining things? Could all this be connected to the Potters?’ If their relation to a pair of—well, he couldn't bear it if that got out. The Dursleys went to bed. Mrs. Dursley slept quickly, but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over. His final, comforting thought was that even if the Potters were involved, they wouldn't come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew their opinion of them and their kind. He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything going on—he yawned and turned over, “it couldn't affect us.” The statement he wished to be true, was wrong.
Goyle sneered, earning glares from everyone in the room. "Yikes, Potter, stuck with people like that," he commented, making no effort to hide his dislike.
"Shut your mouth, Goyle, before you get hexed into oblivion," Pansy sneered. While she still disliked Potter and his friends, catching a glimpse of his home life had somewhat softened her stance. Ron, surprised by Pansy's action, sputtered, which earned him a wink from the pureblood girl. He blushed deeply and looked away, eliciting soft laughter from those around him.
The scene shifts from the sleeping figures back to the cat. An elderly man with crimson robes and a long silvery white beard named Albus Dumbledore walks out of a forest near the street, past the tabby cat. He takes out his deluminator and activates it, zapping all the light out of the lampposts. He puts away the device turning to the meowing cat. “I should have known that you would be here.” He said with a chuckle, taking a seat next to the cat "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
He smiled at the tabby, which transformed into a woman in an emerald cloak. She wore square glasses matching the cat's eye markings, and her black hair was in a tight, ruffled bun. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
Amused snickers sounded again as they shook their heads. The "muggles" in the room seemed entertained by the woman.
She explained how she sat on the wall day with Dumbledore stating she should have been celebrating instead. With a scroll she had stated how irresponsible they had been in the celebration. 11 years had been far too long, but it shouldn’t warrant the risk of secrecy. A moment of silence passed as Minerva McGonagall asked, “Are the rumours true, Albus?
With a saddened look he answered, “I'm afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad.” He confirmed the death of the Potters and Voldemort.
Many flinched at how easily he was able to say it.
“And the boy?”
“I have instructed Hagrid to bring him here.”
She scoffed at his words. Dumbledore had refused to look her way. Someone pipped up.
An older Ravenclaw asked, "Why was it so insistent that Harry remain with the Dursleys? It was obvious they wanted nothing to do with him. Surely, better, more suitable families existed to look after him, particularly a magical one. Why was he kept in hiding with Muggles?"
"Lily Potter had performed an act of sacrificial protection, linked by blood. Harry living with his aunt completed this protective ward that Lily had cast. I believed it was the safest place for him." Many people snorted and shook their heads in disagreement at this claim, but chose not to utter a single word.
McGonagall asked, “Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?”
Dumbledore remarked, “Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life.”
"Ah, geez, thank you, Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said, flushing and nodding enthusiastically. Lucius rolled his eyes, which earned him a smack from his wife. She shook her head, a clear warning for him not to say anything foolish.
Just as their conversation concluded, a low roar heralded the arrival of Rubeus Hagrid, the massive and bearded Gamekeeper of Hogwarts, who descended from the sky on a giant flying motorbike, a gift borrowed from Sirius Black. Cradled in Hagrid’s massive arms was the sleeping infant, Harry Potter.
Professor McGonagall strongly protested the decision to leave Harry with the Dursleys, whom she correctly judged to be the worst kind of Muggles—people entirely incapable of understanding or accepting anything unusual. However, Dumbledore was resolute. He knew that Harry's mother, Lily, had a blood bond with her sister, Petunia. This bond, Dumbledore insisted, provided the only guaranteed protection against any remaining followers of Voldemort. Harry had to be raised by his family to ensure this magical shield remained effective until he turned seventeen.
“The only family he has.” Dumbledore said.
McGonagall pushed again, “This boy will be famous. There won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his name.”
“Exactly. He's far better off growing up away from all that. Until he is ready.” He said as he placed the baby on the ground slowly.
A few gasps were heard. Narcissa sneered, "You did not just leave a one-year-old child out in the cold fall night." Many eyes turned to face the old man, whose face drained of color.
McGonagall rubbed her face in frustration as she replied, "Unfortunately, yes. With a warming charm, but still... oh, I swear I should have done something then and there. Please tell me he wasn't found until the next morning!" Minerva cried out loud.
Petunia winced as Sirius swore, and soon the room erupted in an uproar from both students and adults. Molly Weasley exclaimed, "How irresponsible is that? A baby, at that!" Stella and Mia had made no attempt to glance at the old man.
“All of it could have been avoided,” sneered Mia for only Stella to hear. Stella shook her head in disgust.
With heavy hearts and silent prayers for the boy's future, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Hagrid laid Harry gently on the cold doorstep of number four, Privet Drive. They left him with a letter explaining the tragic events and his new life. “There, there, Hagrid. It's not really goodbye, after all.” Hagrid nods. He takes a letter and places it on the baby, who is now at the foot of the door. “Good luck, Harry Potter.” The scene ends as the last image was that of a sleeping baby boy with a lightening scar on his forehead.
The audience was left reeling and stunned by the recent spectacle, many feeling a profound heaviness and anger. One unanimous feeling remained, they were desperate to see more, convinced that the truth was hidden beneath the surface.