Chapter 281: Chapter 281: "Final Days Part - 2"
The stands filled quickly, with students proudly displaying their school colors. Fleur, sitting with her Beauxbatons classmates, caught Harry's eye and blew him a kiss, even as she wore her school's colors in support of the opposition.
Lee Jordan, who couldn't resist the opportunity to commentate one last time, grabbed his magical megaphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the first-ever Tri-School Exhibition Match! And what a lineup we have today!"
The game began with explosive intensity. The combined team's Chasers, led by a talented Durmstrang seventh-year, launched an immediate attack on the Hogwarts goals. They moved with impressive speed, the Quaffle a red blur between them.
But they hadn't counted on Harry's reflexes.
Their first shot, a clever reverse pass that would have scored against most Keepers, was plucked out of the air as if Harry had known exactly where it would be. Their second attempt, a powerful throw to the lowest hoop, met the same fate.
"Impossible save by Potter!" Lee shouted. "Did he just catch that one-handed while hanging upside down? Is that even legal?"
The Hogwarts Chasers quickly took full advantage of Harry's impressive defense. Realizing that he could handle the goal on his own, they focused entirely on scoring. Angelina, Alicia, and Roger executed plays they'd perfected over years of practice. Their formations were flawless, their passing precise, and their shooting deadly accurate.
"Johnson to Spinnet, Spinnet to Davies - SCORE! Another ten points to Hogwarts! That's 60-0, and we're only fifteen minutes in!"
Above the main action, Krum and Cedric circled like hawks. The Bulgarian Seeker was clearly toying with his less experienced opponent, occasionally feinting into spectacular dives that had the crowd gasping.
The Weasley twins, meanwhile, were putting on a show of their own. They'd bewitched their Bludgers to trail sparkles, turning each hit into a fireworks display. Even the opposing team's Beaters had to applaud some of their more creative shots.
"And there goes Fred - or is it George? - with another spectacular Bludger! Look at those colors! If professional Quidditch doesn't work out, they could have a future in magical pyrotechnics!"
As the game progressed, the skill gap between the teams became increasingly apparent, but not in the way most had expected. While Krum clearly outclassed Cedric in the Seeker position, the Hogwarts Chasers were putting on a masterclass in teamwork.
"And there's another brilliant interception by Johnson!" Lee's commentary echoed across the pitch. "Look at that formation - they're running the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, no wait, it's morphed into a Reverse Porskoff Ploy! SCORE! 110-0 to Hogwarts!"
The visiting team's frustration mounted with each failed attempt at scoring. Harry's keeping was beyond anything they'd expected, his style unlike traditional Keepers. He didn't just defend the hoops - he seemed to control the entire defensive zone.
"Potter's not just stopping goals," Lee observed excitedly, "he's directing the entire defense! Look how he's positioning himself to force the Chasers into the twins' firing range!"
The score mounted: 120-0, then 140-0. Krum, realizing their only chance lay in catching the Snitch quickly, stopped toying with Cedric and began hunting in earnest.
"Krum's spotted something!" Lee shouted. "He's diving - and this time it's no feint! Diggory's trying to catch up, but that Firebolt's in a league of its own!"
The crowd rose to their feet as Krum streaked downward, Cedric trailing hopelessly behind. The Snitch gleamed just above the grass, and there was never any doubt about the outcome. Krum's fingers closed around the golden ball with typical flourish.
"KRUM CATCHES THE SNITCH! 150 POINTS TO THE COMBINED TEAM!" Lee announced. "But wait... what's the final score? Ladies and gentlemen, despite Krum's spectacular catch, Hogwarts wins 160-150! The power of teamwork prevails!"
The teams descended amid thunderous applause. Even Krum looked impressed as he shook hands with the Hogwarts players.
"You fly well," he told Harry gruffly. "Should haff been Seeker."
Harry smiled. "It was a friendly game. Sometimes it's more fun to help others score than to grab all the glory yourself."
The post-match celebrations carried on through dinner, momentarily pushing aside the darker events of the past week. Students from all three schools mingled freely, exchanging addresses and promises to keep in touch.
As evening fell, Harry found himself alone with Fleur in their usual spot on the Astronomy Tower. The castle glowed softly in the twilight, its windows twinkling like earthbound stars.
"You know," Fleur said softly, breaking their comfortable silence on the Astronomy Tower, "you promised to show me something special in ze castle. A special secret room, you said?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, though his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Did I?"
"Oui. You said it was... 'ow did you put it? Magical even for Hogwarts?" She leaned against him, her silver hair catching the moonlight. "Tonight is my last night here, and I don't think I will ever return. I don't want to miss ze chance to see this special room."
"Well then," Harry stood, offering his hand with an elegant bow, "shall we explore one last Hogwarts secret?"
They made their way through the quiet corridors, their footsteps echoing softly against ancient stone. Moonlight streamed through high windows, casting their shadows in elongated patterns across the floor. The castle seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the significance of this final night.
Reaching the seventh floor, Harry led them to the blank wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. "Watch carefully," he instructed, beginning his three passes.
Fleur gasped softly as an ornate door materialized from the stone. The dark wood was intricately carved with patterns that seemed to shift in the dim light.
"After you," Harry gestured, and Fleur stepped through - only to freeze in wonderment.
The room had transformed into an exact replica of the French dueling arena where they'd first met. Every detail was perfect, from the marble columns to the gilded observation galleries. Even the lighting was identical, warm golden rays streaming through high windows that couldn't possibly exist within Hogwarts.
"This brings back memories," Fleur said softly, running her hand along a familiar railing. "Ze place where I was defeated so thoroughly."
"Where I taught an overconfident witch who relied too much on her allure a valuable lesson," Harry teased, though his tone was gentle.
"I was not overconfident!" Fleur protested, then laughed. "Well, perhaps a little. But let's not dwell on my old self. I like to think I've grown since then." She turned in a slow circle, taking in the perfect recreation. "This room can become anything?"
Harry demonstrated by summoning training dummies and conjuring ancient tomes. "It becomes whatever you need," he explained. "Though it can't create food or break Gamp's Laws. And anything conjured here must stay here."
"Ze room provides whatever you need?" Fleur's eyes sparkled with growing understanding, a mischievous smile playing at her lips.
"Would you like to try?" Harry asked, moving toward the door.
"Oui," Fleur's voice held a note that made Harry's heart skip. "Wait outside?"
Raising an eyebrow, Harry complied. The door vanished behind him, and he watched as Fleur paced deliberately, her expression concentrated. When the door reappeared, it was different - darker wood, with intricate carvings of roses and vines.
Harry's breath caught as he followed her inside. The room had transformed into an elegant bedroom that somehow combined both French and magical aesthetics. Floating candles cast a warm glow over midnight blue silk hangings. A trail of rose petals led toward a massive four-poster bed, its dark wood matching the door's carvings.
"Fleur..." Harry began, but found himself silenced by her finger against his lips.
"Non," she whispered, her blue eyes dark with emotion. "No more words, 'Arry. Just us."
As their lips met, the floating candles dimmed of their own accord. The Room of Requirement, understanding perfectly what they needed, ensured their privacy, sealing them in their own private world for one last magical night at Hogwarts.
Chapter 282: Chapter 282: "Twilight of an Eventful Year"
The sun hadn't yet risen over Hogwarts when Harry Potter, still wearing yesterday's robes and sporting a rather suspicious grin, attempted to sneak into the Ravenclaw dormitory. He was almost to his bed when Roger's voice shattered the silence.
"And where exactly have you been, Mr. Potter?"
Harry froze, turning to see not only Roger but Reggy as well, both sitting up in their beds with identical, knowing grins.
"Why are you two up so early?" Harry asked, attempting to feign casualness. "Usually, you're barely awake before classes."
Reggy chuckled. "Oh, we were asleep. But we set an alert ward by the stairs to let us know when you'd come sneaking back."
Harry mentally scolded himself. He hadn't expected anyone to put an alert charm in the Ravenclaw dorms. "Why would you do that?"
Roger raised an eyebrow, looking every bit as mischievous as Reggy. "We're the ones asking questions here, Harry. Where were you last night?"
Harry kept his tone casual. "I was training. With everything going on, I don't want to waste a moment; got to get as strong as possible."
"Interesting," Roger drawled, his eyes glinting. "Because someone mentioned a certain silver-haired champion was missing from her dorm as well. You wouldn't happen to know where she was, would you?"
Harry smirked. "Fleur? Yeah, she was training with me. Can't exactly spar alone, can I?"
Reggy leaned forward, his grin widening. "Just training, or was there more to it?"
Harry sighed, exasperated. "What's with all the questions? I need to get ready for my morning session. Ask me later—we've got the whole day."
With that, Harry quickly changed into his training clothes and left the room before they could continue their interrogation.
At breakfast, Roger and Reggy looked ready to renew their questions, possibly with reinforcements, but a new topic of conversation swept through the hall, and they were temporarily distracted.
Charles Potter had been released from the hospital wing. He was back to his usual self, having recovered from his encounter and exposure to the Cruciatus Curse.
The Great Hall buzzed with curiosity when Harry and his dormmates arrived for breakfast. Students from all houses and schools craned their necks toward the entrance, waiting for the first sight of Charles. The whispers flew fast.
"I heard he fought You-Know-Who in a proper duel-"
"Don't be daft, he's dead-"
The whispers only grew as Charles entered, flanked by Ron and Hermione like personal guards. Ginny and Neville followed close behind, forming a protective circle. Charles looked pale but determined, seemingly unbothered by the attention.
Before the rumors could take off again, Dumbledore stood up at the staff table.
"While we all share concern for Mr. Potter's wellbeing," he announced, his blue eyes somehow managing to meet every student's gaze simultaneously, "I must ask that you respect his privacy and refrain from overwhelming him with questions. When and if Mr. Potter wishes to share his experience, that will be his choice."
Dumbledore's words had the intended effect, and the direct questions ceased, though not quite as intended. Instead of open stares and inquiries, students now observed Charles from behind books, around corners, and through gaps between friends, with whispered theories growing more elaborate.
Charles seemed to shy away from the attention now, preferring to spend his time at Hagrid's cabin with his close friends. Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for his younger brother. The once arrogant boy, always eager to be in the spotlight, had matured into someone humble and grounded, content to stay out of the center of attention.
Everything Charles had been through at Hogwarts had changed him for the better, and Harry was genuinely impressed with how bravely he had handled himself during his encounter with Voldemort.
The rest of the day passed in a strange mixture of end-of-term excitement and subdued grief. The empty seats at the Slytherin table were a constant reminder of recent losses. Several students had left early, summoned home by family. Draco had departed with his mother days before.
Harry spent the afternoon with his friends by the lake, Fleur nestled comfortably in his arms. Their relationship had shifted subtly but significantly after the previous night, a new certainty underlying every touch and glance. Their friends, to their credit, kept the teasing to a minimum - mostly.
"So," Arabella asked innocently, "how was last night's training?"
"It was great," Fleur replied before Harry could, her eyes sparkling. "We trained for hours. Very... enlightening. I'm still sore from it all."
Roger choked on his pumpkin juice while Cedric fell backwards laughing. Even the Elvinia, usually so composed, couldn't help giggling.
As evening approached, the castle's atmosphere shifted. The final feast awaited, but it would be different this year. Black banners hung along the walls, and the enchanted ceiling displayed a clear night sky, stars twinkling against velvet darkness. Thousands of candles cast a warm glow, but the mood was somber.
Students filed in, their usual end-of-term excitement tempered by the events of the past week. The Slytherin table, normally proud and aloof, sat in unusual solidarity, many of its members wearing black armbands. Even the ghosts seemed more solemn, floating silently above the tables.
When everyone was seated, Dumbledore rose. The hall fell silent immediately, every eye fixed on the headmaster. His customary end-of-term twinkle was absent, replaced by something deeper, more serious.
"Another year has gone," Dumbledore began, his voice carrying to every corner. "And what a year it has been. A year that began with the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, yet ends in shadow. We have witnessed incredible displays of magical prowess, celebrated international cooperation, and forged bonds between our schools that will last lifetimes."
His expression grew more serious. "But we have also faced darkness. Lord Voldemort has returned."
A collective shudder ran through the hall at the name. Several students gasped audibly.
"It would be an insult to you all to pretend otherwise. Charles Potter faced him in that graveyard, displaying courage beyond his years. He escaped, thanks to the intervention of an unknown wizard, but not before witnessing horrors no child should endure."
Dumbledore's eyes found Charles at the Gryffindor table. "His experience reminds us that dark times approach. Yet it also shows us that even in our darkest moments, help can arrive from unexpected quarters."
"We have also suffered losses. Several of our students have lost fathers - deaths that the Ministry may classify differently, but whose absence will be felt deeply regardless. While some may choose to ignore the truth of these losses, we cannot ignore the pain they have caused."
His gaze swept the hall, lingering particularly on the Slytherin table. "In the coming darkness, we must remember that we are strongest together. House rivalries, school competitions, and even old prejudices must give way before the bonds of shared humanity. Those who seek to divide us will find that their actions only give us more reason to unite."
"Remember those we have lost. Comfort those who grieve. Stand firm against the encroaching dark. And above all, keep your hearts open to love - for it is love that will light our way forward. Love that gives us strength to face whatever darkness may come."
The silence that followed was profound. Harry noticed more than a few students wiping their eyes, while others reached out to clasp hands across house tables.
After the feast, it was time for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to depart. Unlike in the canon, both schools had decided to leave that very night. Harry wasn't entirely sure why, but he guessed that with the nearly confirmed return of Voldemort and the deaths of Death Eaters, the other ministries might have acted quickly, calling their students back to learn all they could about the dark events that had unfolded.
The night was clear and cool as students gathered on the grounds. The massive carriage and ship stood ready, but neither group seemed eager to leave.
As students said their goodbyes, Fleur pulled Harry aside.
"Remember, 'Arry," she said, her voice carrying that melodious accent he loved, "you are mine now." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Don't you dare forget it."
"As if I could," Harry replied softly, pulling her close.
"Oui. And if any English girls try to steal you..." She left the threat hanging playfully.
"Get a room!" Roger called out, then quickly dodged Harry's wandless stinging hex.
"Already did," Fleur whispered with a wicked smile, just loud enough for their friends to hear, causing several eyebrows to shoot up and setting off another round of laughter.
Their final goodbye was interrupted by Madame Maxime calling for her students. As Fleur turned to leave, she pressed something into Harry's hand - a delicate silver chain with a tiny charm shaped like a thunderbird.
"To remind you," she said softly, then kissed him one last time before hurrying to join her schoolmates.
Harry watched as the massive carriage rose into the night sky, followed shortly by the Durmstrang ship submerging beneath the lake's dark surface. The remaining Hogwarts students drifted back inside, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.
Tomorrow, he would leave for home. Summer would be hectic, but some things, he thought, were worth fighting for.
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