Chapter 338: Chapter 338: "The Last Peaceful Day"
Harry's final NEWT exam—Advanced Arithmancy—ended with more of a whimper than a bang. He had finished the intricate calculations with time to spare, handed in his parchment, and stepped out into the warm June sunshine feeling oddly unsettled. According to his hypothesis, something should have happened during the exams. With a significant number of Ministry officials present at Hogwarts to oversee them, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity for the universe to push events forward. Yet, the days had passed without incident, leaving Harry questioning his assumptions.
Perhaps he had been wrong. Maybe the universe wasn't as determined to maintain certain fixed events as he'd believed. Still, one opportunity remained: Charles had his History of Magic OWL tomorrow, the exam during which the original Harry had received Voldemort's false vision. Yet so far, all was peaceful.
"Stop looking for trouble," Harry muttered to himself, shaking his head. "No crisis is a good crisis."
With the weight of NEWTs finally lifted, Harry's friends were eager to enjoy their remaining days at Hogwarts. Roger organized an impromptu exploration of the castle's secret passages, while Cedric insisted on one last visit to the kitchens. Meanwhile, the Weasley twins were hard at work planning an elaborate series of farewell pranks that promised to leave the school buzzing long after their departure.
"Come on, Harry!" Alicia called, waving him over to where their group had gathered by the Black Lake. "We're making a list of all the places we have to visit before we leave!"
Harry joined them, watching as his friends debated the merits of various Hogwarts locations. The Room of Requirement received multiple votes, though Harry smiled to himself, knowing they'd barely scratched the surface of its capabilities. The Astronomy Tower at midnight made the list, along with the boathouse and even the girls' bathroom corridor from their third year.
"Remember when that troll nearly ate us?" Roger laughed, his voice tinged with nostalgia.
"Yeah," Harry replied with a smirk. "You all decided to become heroes to save little old me, who supposedly needed saving. In the end, I had to rush in to save your asses."
The group erupted into laughter, the sound carrying across the corridor.
As the day waned, Harry found himself beneath the shade of the ancient oak tree by the Black Lake, surrounded by his closest friends. Cedric leaned against the trunk, his relaxed grin a far cry from the stress he'd worn during exams. Roger sprawled on the grass, lazily tossing a Snitch back and forth between his hands. Fred and George sat nearby, demonstrating their latest prank inventions to Alicia and Angelina, their laughter bright and carefree. Reggy, ever the intellectual, was engrossed in a book, though he occasionally looked up to join the conversation. Elvinia and Arabella were deep in a spirited debate about their future careers, their voices blending with the gentle rustle of leaves.
Harry watched them all with a quiet smile. This was why he fought—for moments like this, for the peace and joy his friends could enjoy. The weight of the war and the battles ahead lingered at the edge of his thoughts, but he refused to let it overshadow the present. For now, he let himself enjoy the moment, basking in the laughter and camaraderie of the people he cared about most.
---
The next day dawned bright and clear, the kind of morning that made it easy to forget the shadows lurking just beyond the horizon. While Charles and the other fifth-years busied themselves with their final OWL exam—History of Magic—Harry and his friends lounged on the grassy slopes near the Black Lake. The stress of exams was finally behind them, and the mood was light. For a brief moment, it felt like any other carefree summer day at Hogwarts.
By midday, Fred and George were in the middle of demonstrating their latest invention—a color-changing candy that temporarily turned the eater's hair into rainbow-colored feathers. Laughter echoed across the grassy hill as Alicia tried one, her long hair suddenly transforming into a vibrant, feathery mane.
In the midst of the commotion, Harry felt the familiar buzz of the enchanted mirror in his pocket. His expression shifted, and he excused himself quietly, stepping away from the group and heading back into the castle. Finding an empty classroom, he pulled out the mirror and activated it.
Sirius's face appeared in the glass, his expression unusually serious.
"Harry, I need you at Black Castle," Sirius said, skipping any formalities. "Something's come up. We've got intel that needs your attention."
A knot formed in Harry's stomach. "What's going on?"
"I'll explain when you get here," Sirius replied. His tone left no room for argument. "Just come as soon as you can."
Harry nodded sharply, his mind already racing. "I'm on my way."
Without returning to his friends to make up an excuse—his thoughts were too scattered to think of one—Harry slipped away from the castle.
---
Harry apparated to the outskirts of Black Castle, the ancient family seat looming before him like a shadow against the evening sky. He moved swiftly inside, where Sirius and Arcturus were waiting in the study. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with unease.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, though he already sensed this was bigger than the Ministry infiltration he'd been expecting.
Sirius gestured for him to sit. "We've got a problem. A big one."
Arcturus leaned forward, his sharp eyes fixed on Harry. "Our intelligence network has picked up unusual activity. Over the past few days, there's been a significant influx of dark creatures crossing into Britain—werewolves, vampires, giants. They're slipping through under the Ministry's nose—or worse, with the help of compromised officials who are deliberately looking the other way."
Sirius pointed to several glowing markers on a map spread across the table. "We've identified at least six major entry points. The numbers we're seeing…" He shook his head. "This isn't a raid or an infiltration. This is an invasion force."
Harry studied the map, his mind racing. This wasn't following the script he remembered. He had expected Voldemort to make a focused move on the prophecy, perhaps with Grindelwald's support. But this... this was preparation for full-scale magical war.
"How many are we talking about?" Harry asked, his voice steady despite the growing unease in his chest.
"Hundreds," Sirius said grimly. "Maybe more. And they're not just wandering aimlessly. They're gathering, Harry. This is coordinated."
Harry leaned over the map, tracing the markers with his finger. The dark creatures were converging on key locations, their movements deliberate and strategic. The Ministry, oblivious to the threat, was woefully unprepared.
"Do we know what they're planning?" Harry asked.
"Not yet," Arcturus admitted. "But it's clear the Dark Alliance is mobilizing. They've been too quiet for too long. This is their move."
Harry leaned back in his chair, his thoughts swirling. The calm he had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a growing sense of urgency. He had hoped to avoid a large-scale conflict, but it seemed that choice was no longer his to make.
"We need to act," Harry said firmly. "We can't sit back and wait. First, we need to figure out their target. If it's the Ministry, we'll need to call everyone up and prepare for a major battle."
Sirius nodded. "Agreed. I've already informed Amelia, and she's told her people to be ready. Once we have any clue what they're planning, we can move fast. Grandfather, can you handle the intel?"
Arcturus sighed, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You're making this old man work again. I've fought in too many wars already. Let's hope this is the last one. I'll get my people digging. They'll bring us what we need."
With tasks assigned, Harry stayed at the castle, ready to act at a moment's notice. But as evening fell, the lack of updates from Arcturus's sources gnawed at him. The silence was unnerving, and Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was already in motion—something he hadn't anticipated.
"I need to go back to Hogwarts," Harry said finally, breaking the tense quiet in the study. "If something's happening, I can't sit here waiting. I need to make sure nothing's gone wrong while I've been away."
Sirius nodded, though his expression was grim. "Be careful, Harry. If this is as big as it looks, we're all going to be in the thick of it soon."
Harry didn't reply. He simply turned and left the room, his mind already racing ahead to what might be waiting for him at Hogwarts. The storm was coming, and he needed to be ready.
Chapter 339: Chapter 339: "A Note and a Mission"
Charles stepped out of the History of Magic exam hall, his mind still buzzing with details of goblin rebellions and giant wars. The OWLs were finally over, and a wave of relief washed over him, though it was tempered by the lingering exhaustion from weeks of studying. He stretched his arms, glancing at his friends, who were already chatting animatedly about their plans for the evening.
"That's it," Ron said with a wide grin. "No more exams. We're free!"
"For now," Hermione countered, though even she couldn't suppress a small smile. "But there's still next year to think about."
"Hermione, please," Neville said, shaking his head. "Let us enjoy this moment. We've earned it."
Charles chuckled, falling into step with his friends as they made their way down the corridor. The castle felt different now, lighter somehow, as if the weight of the exams had been lifted from its ancient stones. The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm golden beams across the floor. For a moment, everything felt normal—peaceful, even.
That peace shattered as they rounded a corner.
A Slytherin student—a fourth-year Charles vaguely recognized but couldn't name—came barreling around the bend, slamming into Charles with enough force to send them both sprawling. They hit the ground hard, books and parchment scattering everywhere.
"Watch it!" Ron snapped, quickly helping Charles to his feet.
The Slytherin, however, didn't apologize. He scrambled to his feet, his face pale and his eyes darting nervously around the corridor. Without a word, he turned and bolted, disappearing around the next corner.
"What was that all about?" Ginny asked, frowning as she jogged up to them. She had been looking for Charles and arrived just in time to witness the commotion.
"Weird," Neville muttered, kneeling to help gather Charles's scattered belongings.
Charles dusted himself off, his heart still racing from the sudden collision. "That was… odd," he said, frowning. "He didn't even say anything."
"Probably just another Slytherin being a git," Ron said with a shrug. "Come on, let's just forget about it."
Ginny glanced down the corridor where the Slytherin had disappeared, her frown deepening. "I don't know. He looked scared."
"Scared of what?" Neville asked, handing Charles his last book.
"Exactly," Ginny replied softly, her gaze lingering on the empty hallway. "Scared of what?"
They were about to move on when Charles felt something unusual in the pocket of his robes. It wasn't there before—he was sure of it. His hand closed around a small, folded piece of parchment, and his stomach dropped.
"Wait," he said, holding up a hand to stop his friends. "There's something here."
He pulled out the note, his fingers trembling slightly as he unfolded it. The handwriting was neat but hurried, the ink smudged in places as if the writer had been in a rush. Charles's eyes scanned the words, and his face turned pale.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, her voice sharp with concern.
Charles swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "It's… it's about Remus," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He read the note aloud:
"If you want to save your godfather, the werewolf Lupin, come to the Prophecy Hall of the Department of Mysteries. Come alone, and come quickly. Time is running short, and I personally have little patience for filthy half-breeds. Come alone, or he dies."
A heavy silence fell over the group, the weight of the words hanging like a storm cloud. Ron was the first to break it.
"This has to be a prank," he said, his voice rising with anger. "Some Slytherin git trying to scare you. I'm going to find that bloke and—"
"Ron, wait," Hermione interrupted, her brow furrowed in thought. She turned to Charles. "When was the last time you saw Remus?"
Charles hesitated, his mind racing. "I… I haven't seen him in weeks. The last I heard, he was going undercover to spy on a werewolf gathering. My parents were worried—they said it was dangerous."
Hermione's expression darkened. "Then this might not be a prank. If Remus is in trouble…"
"We need to tell Dumbledore," Neville said firmly. "He'll know what to do."
The group nodded in agreement and immediately set off for the headmaster's office. Charles's heart pounded as they climbed the stairs, his mind racing with worry for Remus. When they reached the gargoyle guarding the entrance, Charles quickly gave the password ("Sherbet Lemon"), and they hurried inside. But the circular room was empty, save for the silent portraits lining the walls.
"Where is he?" Ron asked, looking around in frustration.
One of the portraits—a stern-looking wizard with a long, flowing beard—cleared his throat. "Headmaster Dumbledore received urgent news and left the castle," he said. "He did not say when he would return."
Charles's stomach churned. "What about my mother, Professor Potter?" he asked anxiously. "Is she in the school? Can you tell me where she is?"
The portrait shook his head. "I believe Professor Potter left the school with the headmaster. Something about an Order of the Phoenix meeting."
"What about Professor McGonagall?" Hermione suggested, her voice tight with worry.
"She accompanied the Ministry officials overseeing the exams," the portrait replied. "She has not yet returned."
Charles clenched his fists, frustration and fear bubbling up inside him. "What do we do now?" he asked, turning to his friends.
"We need to find Harry," Neville said after a moment of tense silence.
Though Charles hesitated—his relationship with his brother was complicated at best—he nodded. Harry would know what to do.
The group raced through the castle, searching every likely spot for any sign of Harry. The corridors were unusually quiet, most students still outside enjoying the sunny afternoon. Their footsteps echoed as they moved quickly from one location to another.
They finally found Harry's friends by the Black Lake, lounging in the late afternoon sun. The group looked relaxed, enjoying the rare reprieve from exams. But there was no sign of Harry. Cedric looked up as Charles and his friends approached, his expression curious.
"Have you seen Harry?" Charles asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.
Cedric shook his head. "He left a few hours ago. Didn't say where he was going. Why? Is something wrong?"
Charles hesitated, glancing at Hermione for guidance. She stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "We need his help with something urgent. If you see him, can you let him know?"
Cedric nodded, though his eyes narrowed slightly with concern. "Of course. I'll tell him as soon as I see him."
As they turned to leave, Fred and George, who had been lounging nearby and clearly eavesdropping, caught up with them.
"Spill it, Charlie-boy—"
"—something's obviously wrong—"
"—and we want in," George finished, his tone unusually serious.
Charles hesitated again, torn between keeping the secret and accepting the twins' help. But before he could decide, Hermione stepped in, quickly summarizing the situation. The twins' easygoing expressions hardened into something far more focused as they listened.
"What's the plan, then?" George asked after a moment of silence.
Charles squared his shoulders, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I'm going to save him."
"You're not going alone," George said firmly.
"But—" Charles began.
"No arguments," Fred interrupted, his usual grin replaced with a rare look of determination. "This is Remus we're talking about. We're not letting you do this by yourself."
Charles glanced around at the group—Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Fred, and George—all of them wearing the same resolute expressions. A surge of gratitude swelled within him. He knew he couldn't stop them, and deep down, he didn't want to. They were his family, in every way that mattered.
"Alright," he said finally, nodding. "But we need a plan. How do we get to the Ministry?"
The group fell silent, considering their options. Apparition was out of the question—Fred and George weren't confident about side-along Apparition over such a long distance. The Floo Network was too risky, and they didn't have access to a Portkey.
"I believe I can help with that."
They all jumped, spinning around to find Luna Lovegood standing behind them. She had appeared so quietly that none of them had noticed her approach. Her dreamy expression held a rare edge of determination as she gestured toward the Forbidden Forest.
"Thestrals," she said simply. "They can take us to the Ministry of Magic."
Charles blinked. "Thestrals?"
Luna nodded serenely. "They're fast, and they can fly us straight to the Ministry. No one will even see us coming."
It was a risky plan, but it was the best they had. The group exchanged glances before nodding, their resolve firm. With Luna leading the way, they made their way to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The towering trees cast long shadows as the sun dipped lower in the sky, and the air was thick with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant bird calls.
In a clearing, the thestrals waited—silent, dark, and otherworldly. Their skeletal forms and leathery wings would have been unsettling to anyone who couldn't see them. The creatures regarded the group with calm, unblinking eyes, their presence both eerie and comforting.
Charles approached one of the thestrals, his heart pounding as he placed a hesitant hand on its side. The creature didn't flinch, merely flicked its tail and adjusted its wings. Gathering his courage, he climbed onto its back, gripping tightly as the thestral shifted beneath him.
One by one, the others mounted their own thestrals, their faces a mix of fear and determination. Ginny's hands shook slightly as she took the reins, while Fred and George exchanged nervous grins, trying to lighten the mood.
Luna was the last to mount, her gaze dreamy but focused. "They'll take us where we need to go," she said softly. "Hold on tight."
With a rustle of wings, the thestrals took off, their powerful legs propelling them into the air. The ground fell away beneath them as the creatures soared above the treetops, their dark forms blending seamlessly with the encroaching night. The wind rushed past them, cold and sharp, as they flew toward London.
Charles gripped the reins tightly, his mind racing. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were flying into something far bigger than they realized—something dangerous and unpredictable. But there was no turning back now. Remus's life was at stake, and Charles was determined to save him, no matter the cost.
Eight invisible horses carried the unlikely rescue party toward the Ministry of Magic, their dark wings beating steadily against the twilight sky. Far below, the Hogwarts grounds grew smaller and smaller, the castle fading into the distance.
None of them noticed the figure of Harry Potter returning to the castle just as they disappeared over the horizon.
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