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  This chapter was edited by Gdiusx. Check his works on HP and ASOIAF, I highly recommend them.

  Tuesday 3rd of August 1993

  St Mungo's

  “So, what's your prognosis, doc?”

  “Prognosis? Is something ailing you, Harry?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Edward Tonks ughed boisterously as he prodded his wand over his body, focusing on his three scars. Harry was seated on a hospital bed, his upper half naked, while Chiara was nearby looking over reports on her desk.

  “Well, it's as I expected. Dark scars are incredibly difficult to remove, even if, most of the time, they are only cosmetic and provide no discomfort. Especially if they are not treated by a trained healer in a prudent manner.” Healer Tonks meaningfully pointed his wand over where the manticore had stabbed him before moving to the basilisk bite, “I do not bme Poppy for failing to completely treat this one, even with phoenix tears administered from the source. Surviving basilisk venom, let alone administered by the snake itself, is unheard of!”

  “Does it matter if it was from the snake or if the venom was injected?”

  “It does. The venom transferred through the snake’s bite contains all its malice and hatred. All of its intent and magic.” Harry raised his eyebrows at the impromptu lesson in magical theory - that would expin how the venom could be safely used in potions. “The same can be said for Dumbledore’s phoenix, for its gentle and nurturing nature clearly helped with the treatment. Then, there is the manticore’s sting… and that scar.”

  The Head Healer stared at the fainted scar in the centre of his forehead. It had healed considerably well, yet it was still there, a permanent reminder of what it cost him to survive Voldemort nearly twelve years ago.

  “Have you tried hiding it with your powers?”

  Harry jerked at Ted’s sudden question, “Not really. I mean, I'm not ashamed of it or anything.” He recalled his disguise as Jon Snow, “Although, I did manage to apply a gmour over it a few weeks ago.”

  Unprompted, Ted had him stand before a full-body mirror in the room. “Try clearing it away, then tell me how it feels.”

  Doing as told, Harry saw the scar easily fading away, revealing unblemished skin. He touched it, not feeling the expected soft skin marred by a rough edge of the scar - just regur skin like the rest of his forehead. Yet he could feel a slight drain on his magic as the transformation had to be consciously maintained.

  “I can feel my ability working, like a tingle where the scar is supposed to be and a slight drain on my magic.”

  “Hmm, it's just like my Nymphadora.” Ted stroked his short beard. “She took a nasty curse on her arm during a patrol a few months ago, you see. Silly girl didn't tell me about it until a week ter, but by then, even though it was treated of any residual dark magic, it still left a mark. She hides it with her powers, but once she's asleep, she loses focus, and the scar returns.”

  “I see,” Harry hummed. “I will be careful to avoid getting hit by dark magic then. Or let magical creatures bite me.”

  “And you will tell me if you do get hit or bit, won't you, Mr Potter?”

  Harry turned to Chiara’s stern gre and grinned, “As soon as I can.”

  “Have you tried morphing your flesh or muscles?” Ted asked suddenly.

  “Not really, I did use it to change my height as well as, er… you know.”

  “Heh, yes, I do recall that tidbit, but you feel no drain from it?” Harry shook his head. “You are far too skinny, to an unhealthy degree. Try adding muscles; put some flesh on those bones.”

  Not understanding the point, Harry did as told, staring at the mirror as his skinny frame gradually filled out with bulging muscles, his entire body tingling during the transformation. His hands became rge and beefy, the palms soft yet forming callouses as he focused. His forearms bulged along with his biceps, and then his chest filled out along with his neck, veins and tendons visible in the mirror. His stomach swelled, and his abdominal muscles wriggled, expanding angrily. His thighs were like tree trunks, while his calves looked like a runner’s wet dream. Deciding to go all out, Harry willed his hair to grow down to his waist, smoothening it to a silky hue before turning it silver and changing his eye colour to purple.

  Harry had no idea why the sudden urge to check how he would look if he were Targaryen, but he decided it had to do with his upcoming visit with Estelle Greengrass.

  Looking at his reflection, he could tell it was not a cosmetic change as he could feel extreme power in his body. His long, silky hair was smooth and gave a soft glow in the sunlight. His muscles were harder than stone, and grabbing the edge of his bed, Harry easily lifted it with one hand.

  He felt as if he could take over the world with such brimming power in his body… or at least win several beauty contests and the Olympics while he was at it. And yet, Harry could tell that he could not maintain this transformation for long.

  Mr Tonks came over, looking expectantly. “How do you feel?”

  “Powerful, yet I am already getting hungry. There's a rge drain on my magic, and even my body is starting to feel tired.”

  Ted nodded thoughtfully as Chiara joined them and wrote something in her notepad, only looking him over once without batting an eye - it sort of irked Harry that the beautiful older girl seemingly felt nothing about him, but at the same time, he was gd she was so professional in her duties.

  Besides, at its core, their retionship was a master and servant one, even if he enjoyed their sibling dynamic.

  “As expected. Your natural state is heavily weakened, and this bulk-up is merely a temporary boost. Nymphadora learnt the hard way not to turn herself into an Amazonian unless she has the foundation to back it up.”

  “Foundation?”

  “The build. In your case, it will be easy. You are a healthy male, and the ritual has greatly accelerated your ageing - all you need is a healthy diet and a stringent training regimen to reach your peak physical potential. At that point, you would be capable of morphing your already existing muscles into any shape you want without feeling any drain.”

  Harry nodded; it was something he had expected during his experiments in the bathroom. When he adjusted his height, his body shape remained the same, so he felt no drain on his magic until he exceeded the limit.

  Then he froze as Ted’s words fully caught up to him. “Hang on, accelerated my ageing? Do you mean I lost a few years of my lifespan?!”

  “Most likely. Do not look so surprised, Harry Potter. Dabbling with rituals, especially those that alter your body or magic, always have side effects, no matter their apparent success.” Healer Tonks looked at him with slight disapproval, but the untold warning was obvious - refrain from any more rituals. “Don’t expect to experience any more maturation until you're twenty-one. Most likely, even then, you won't notice anything obvious.”

  Part of the agreement Harry made with Ted Tonks to help him was for Harry to be forthright with the rituals he made. Ted had given him a magical vow of secrecy, signed on a specially made contract that Harry had kept safe, which would guarantee Ted’s silence and both of their safeties in case someone desired to rip such knowledge out of Ted’s mind - though it did not protect Harry’s mind. It was an extremely expensive method; the parchment alone cost Harry 500 Galleons, and he had Mrs Greengrass enchant the contract, as well as give another minor vow of her own to keep its existence secret. It showed how much Harry cared about the secrecy of the rituals and Ted’s willingness to still help in return for knowledge and other favours.

  The main reason for this secrecy was the Huntsman Ritual, a heavily modified one that Harry first discovered from whatever was hiding in his mind and Ghost devoured, then in Tom Riddle’s notes in the Chamber of Secrets. The implications of what he had learned about shattered souls and Voldemort’s identity had made him shiver, and Harry did his best not to think on the matter until he met with someone knowledgeable about souls and other esoteric magic. Dumbledore came to mind, but the headmaster had been extremely busy tely; Harry decided to send him a letter sometime ter, regardless if the old man may not approve of the risky rituals he had undergone.

  The Huntsman's ritual was not really that rare, but it had simply fallen out of fashion due to the inherent danger about it. He had Henry review the rituals and further modified them to work with yet another modified version of the Maturation Ritual, or the Wizard’s Awakening, to form the truly one-of-a-kind ritual that Harry subjected himself to.

  Such a ritual was his legacy! There was no way he would ever allow others to use it aside from those very dear to him or his children.

  “Fair enough,” Harry shrugged as he put on his shirt. “Though that still doesn't expin why I felt no drain at all when changing the size of my… you know.”

  Ted rolled his eyes, even as Chiara giggled from the side. “Your penis, Mr Potter. There is no need for you to act shy with me. I am your healer.” Harry grinned as he ran a hand over his still waist-length hair. “The penis, testicles, and the eyes are the only organs of the body that exist outside of it - and no, I do not count the skin for obvious reasons. They go by different rules, and no, Harry, I do not recommend one bit, that you dabble with your eyes using your powers. Changing their colour, or even their shape is fine, but no more. The eyes are one of the most difficult organs to cure if something happens to them, even with magic. Yes, even more difficult than growing back your balls should you foolishly mess with them.”

  The dire warning made ants crawl down his spine, and Harry nodded quickly - his eyesight was already superb since waking up in this world, and the ritual had vastly improved it and even gave him a cool trick to py with.

  Ted Tonks stared at him for a whole minute until he was sure his warning was taken seriously before smiling again. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Only if we are done.” It's barely been half an hour since Ted greeted them at the hospital’s foyer and brought them here. “This was faster than I–”

  “Done? Hah! We haven't even started yet.” Harry stared as Ted spped his belly in ughter, while Chiara hid a grin as she handed the healer a sheet of paper. “We're done with your body, I suppose. Now it's time to test the limits of your magic, but first, the results of your blood are out.”

  “Well? Did it fail?”

  Ted stared at him strangely, “How the bloody hell would a blood test fail? Nevermind,” Harry rubbed the back of his head awkwardly before noticing his long hair was starting to make him itchy. “Your blood has become even more potent. You mentioned your skin gaining magical resistance?”

  Harry nodded as, with a quick thought, he returned his hair to its original colour and regur messy style - doing the same with his eyes.

  “Well, it's safe to say that it wasn't just your skin but your whole body. From your blood to your bones and organs.” Harry raised an eyebrow as his lips quivered in satisfaction at the news - only for Ted to burst his bubble. “That’s not necessarily a good thing. Your potion dosage will need to be adjusted, but I fear we've reached a point where there's nothing more we can do to make a potion more potent.”

  “So what? Gold won't be a problem; I can just buy higher-quality ingredients and Chiara will brew them for me.” Harry smiled at his attendant, “She had been grilling me over my performance in potions at school.”

  “Having Snape as a teacher is not an excuse, Mr Potter,” her lips thinned. “Which reminds me, you have missed our lessons over the past week and even more during your adventure.”

  The words were said lightly, but he could sense her displeasure anyway. Chiara had a no-nonsense attitude when it came to his education. Especially potions, for she was a rare talent in the field that instinctively understood the matter as well as studied it extensively for her research; as a side effect, it made her an excellent teacher. More than once, Harry had seen her working with Cinder as they attempted to discover new uses for the Weirwood in potions.

  Though he had a feeling the Fae merely wanted a potioneer’s expertise for her wine-making project.

  “I'm afraid it won't be as simple as using more ingredients or even higher quality ones. Your body is simply becoming highly resistant to the effects of potions, particurly those that would alter you magically.” Ted expined grimly, and Harry gulped - yet another side effect of the ritual. “On the bright side, I have a strong feeling that a certain young ss will benefit greatly from your blood.”

  Harry's mind went to the bubbly Greengrass daughter, and he smiled. “I guess she will. I'm visiting their manor ter today. Do you have any recommendations?”

  “I’ll write something up for Mary to review ter, but for now, follow me. I have reserved a special room to fully test your magic. I warn you, though, this will exhaust you, both physically, mentally, and magically.”

  Harry grinned, “Bring it on!”

  .

  .

  .

  “Come now, Mr Potter, we're almost done. You can do it!”

  Harry scowled at his attendant’s innocent cheering as he pulled the massive weights through the liquid while paddling as fast as his shaking legs could, yet could not even groan out a response from exhaustion.

  After four hours of constantly casting every spell he knew, spitting fire until his throat burned, duelling with Chiara and Ted, and discovering, to his dismay, that his control had become awry, Ted finally had him take a break as he sent Chiara to prepare something. Then, he had him drink nutrition potions. Those were not very magical as their purpose was to suppnt food, so even his body should be capable of ingesting them.

  Harry hated them.

  They tasted like an unholy mix of muck and old socks, far worse than anything Poppy had forced down his throat before, and killed any appetite he might have. Perhaps that was their purpose, and he certainly did not feel hunger after drinking them, but that did not mean he would willingly imbibe such vile concoctions again. Those potions were more akin to soldier rations, though Jon was certain if he ever forced a Northman to drink those on a campaign, he would have a mutiny by the third day.

  His mind wandered to what he discovered during his spell-casting session. The room they were in was full of runes, and the walls were made from a strange blue rock. It resisted transfiguration, and most spells spshed harmlessly on its surface. It reminded Harry of the Greengrass training room, but even more advanced.

  “You are more in tune with your magic, but your energy levels have become chaotic.” Ted had decred when Harry had bravely drank those potions.

  “Chaotic?”

  “Indeed, I suppose I can enlighten you on magical theory. This would have been covered in NEWT Charms Css, by the way. What do you know about Magical Reserves?”

  “It’s the capacity for a witch and wizard to cast spells. Basically, it's their fuel tank that dictates how much energy they are consuming in casting spells.”

  “Aye, that’s the yman’s terms, but what decides your reserves?”

  Harry had thought about it, and the first thing that came to mind was the body before shaking his head. Riddle from the diary was but a shade, as was Voldemort, yet they had proven capable of magic even without a body.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “There are three things that decide a wizard’s magic. The Body, the Soul, and the Mind. If we could contrast this with your situation when your body is at peak performance, it will greatly increase your connection with magic - I believe this is what the ritual has done in your case.”

  “So we don’t actually have magic? We are simply conduits for magic as we channel it from somewhere else?”

  “Not exactly. All magical creatures have magic in their bodies, but having a healthy body helps retain magic in your flesh. Bloodlines are also a cause. You will find certain families having abilities that are rare outside their bloodline - abilities, special talents, and aptitudes for certain branches of magic are usually reserved to the body.”

  Usually, yet Harry had clearly inherited his skinchanging abilities from Jon, and the only thing he got from him was the soul. He shrugged inwardly, he doubted Ted Tonks was an expert in matters of the soul, and the only person Harry felt could be knowledgable about it was Dumbledore.

  “Alright, what about the soul and mind?”

  “I confess not to know much about the soul, yet the mind comes from discipline and your knowledge of magic. The former I think you are doing well with, but the tter is sadly cking.” Harry rubbed his brow in slight embarrassment, only for Ted to pce a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Don’t think it is your fault, Harry. You only have two years of magical education, and what you have shown so far is astounding. Not to mention the discipline to put yourself in such training and risky situations - remarkable, if equally foolish!”

  "Cheers for that, Ted."

  The older man grinned at his snark before patting his shoulder, “There’s a good d. Now, I worry that I am losing you with this technical waffle, so here’s what you need to know about your situation. The three aspects of magic need to have a bance. Your soul, there’s nothing we can do about it, or at least, I can’t help you with it. Your body, we are working on, but it is your mind that is hindering you and causing such a rge imbance, specifically your knowledge of magic.”

  “So it all comes down to learning more about magic.” Harry summarised, “Is that how adults encourage their kids to do better in school?”

  “Partially, but I find that enticing them with quidditch and treats works far better.” They shared a chuckle, “This is the reason why the Hogwarts curriculum is designed the way it is. It would not do to cram too much information in an eleven-year-old’s mind or force them into strict disciplines when, by their nature, children would desire freedom and joy. It would not do to risk them attempting magic their body and mind could never hope to accomplish, especially if they ck the Discipline to responsibly cast such magicks. Thirteen years old is a major step to magical maturation, though that is a misnomer, for it's more akin to the body’s maturation and a child’s mind growing to become more mature. Fifteen is yet another milestone, and so is seventeen, but your st maturation happens when you are twenty-one.”

  “Wait, then why are we of age at seventeen instead of twenty-one?”

  “Politics. If it were up to me, I would have children remain minors until their bodies are completely mature - even then, the body never ceases to stop growing well into your thirties. Many parents share my opinion, especially when witches and wizards have such long lives, yet… ah, never mind, we are here to test your limits, not bore you with political drivel.”

  “True, so what’s next, doc?”

  “Already raring to go? Have you managed to cast the Patronus again?”

  Ted was very impressed when Harry cimed he could cast the Patronus Charm… only for it to fizzle out in his attempts. The man was patient and believed his cim, citing that the ritual must be why he had difficulties casting it, and being able to cast the shroud already impressed him greatly; Harry knew better.

  It was the wand.

  His Holly wand was perfect for casting this type of magic; magic of love and compassion, happiness and joy. His Weirwood wand was far more neutral; it was good at everything but did not excel in any particur field except for transfiguration, which came naturally to him compared to his attempts with the Holly wand. Harry wondered if it had to do with the core; his Holly wand always felt pleasantly warm and he could even imagine a phoenix singing when he had used it for too long. The Weirwood wand’s basilisk core, on the other hand, felt aggressive and cold, yet still eager to please him.

  “Not yet, but I will work on it.”

  “Good d. Ah, here’s Chiara,” His attendant had just entered the room, causing them both to turn to her. “Is the room ready, My Dear?”

  “It is, Mr Tonks.”

  “Good, come now, Harry. I am needed elsewhere, but there is more testing for us to do to completely map your limits. Chiara will take over from here.”

  Which brought Harry back to the present. He should have known when his attendant smiled far too innocently as she led him to this cursed room that he would not be enjoying his time one bit.

  It has been over four hours since he found himself here. The room’s biggest feature was the rge tank full of viscous green liquid heavier than water, almost like melted jelly. Chiara had him sit in the submerged bicycle-looking thing, then paddle and lift those heavy weights constantly.

  It was ter that Harry realised that the liquid was some kind of magical reagent that sucked the magic out of him. The heavy exercise had all his muscles protesting and his bones creaking, and he was only allowed three minutes of rest every thirty minutes of high-speed exercise.

  Truly, he was discovering the absolute limits of his body and magic. Chiara had several times offered for him to end the regimen early, yet he persevered. He wished to see what he was capable of, and this was the perfect opportunity.

  If only his stomach was so understanding.

  “And time!” The moment those blessed words came out of the werewolf’s lips, Harry immediately let go of the weights and would have colpsed if not for the straps holding him. “Excellently done, Mr Potter. You have finally completed the regimen. Let's get you out of there.”

  .

  .

  .

  “So, aside from this being one hell of a training session, was there a medical reasoning behind putting me through this gauntlet?”

  Harry was drinking a milder form of the nutrition potion from earlier, this one tasting more fruity and sweet, as he followed Chiara through the busy corridors of St Mungo’s. Thankfully, no one recognised him as he still kept his scar hidden and none expected Harry Potter to suddenly grow a few years older.

  His gait was still sluggish, and he could feel an exhaustion that seeped to his bones, yet he could not afford to have a nap. It was nearly five in the afternoon, and his meeting with the Greengrasses was in an hour. He had not eaten anything besides those nutrition potions since breakfast, so Harry hoped a generous dinner was waiting for him.

  “There certainly is. I have compiled a detailed report on what to eat and drink over the coming month. Dobby will be having a field day prepping your meals.” Chiara pced her finger on her chin as she gnced sideways at him - he had yet to get used to the fact they were both the same height now, as long as he kept his own height simir. “What did you think about that contraption?”

  “The goo bath and the equipment? My heart says I do not want to see them ever again, but my mind says otherwise.”

  “They would make for good training, for it was designed to strain every muscle in your body without tearing them.”

  “How does that work?”

  “You noticed how the goo was eating at your magic?” Harry nodded, “It was also healing any minor injuries such as your muscles tearing. I do not believe even you would have been capable of such extreme amounts of exercise non-stop for hours on end.”

  That was true, perhaps if he had a few breathers every few minutes, he could probably fight at such an extreme pace for an hour non-stop, but for two, let alone four? While burning enough calories to make a sumo wrestler weep? Impossible.

  “What do you have in mind, Chiara?” He turned to the girl with her innocent smile, but that gleam in her eyes - it would make the harshest taskmasters shiver. “I have a feeling that you are pnning something.”

  “Let’s just say that I have not been idle while you were sleeping the past few days. Did you know that the basements of the manor are far rger than the building itself? So much space, and so many options!”

  The sudden change of subject was jarring but before Harry could question her more, they arrived at their destination. Janus Thickey Ward, where they found Edward Tonks speaking to two familiar people.

  “Neville!”

  The sandy haired boy turned at the sudden shout, looked at him strangely before smiling when he recognised him, only to gawk after a moment. “Blimey! Is that you, Harry? You’re so… tall!”

  Harry ughed as he approached his friend from school, noticing that he did not have any more pudginess or baby fat. In fact, Neville had also grown slightly taller and had lost the tan he had during the ministry ball. Something prickled the back of his neck as he inspected the boy, and Harry recalled that his birthday was a day before him; He was willing to bet his Nimbus that Neville also had a ritual of sorts, and he must have benefited from it.

  “Mr Harry Potter, I presume?”

  He turned to the old witch he recalled seeing on ptform nine and three quarters a few weeks ago. She did not look any different from then, aside from abandoning her ridiculous stuffed vulture hat. In fact, she seemed dressed in all bck, and so was Neville. As if they were in mourning.

  Suddenly, he recalled Neville mentioning living with his grandmother but never mentioning his parents. Considering where they were, Harry did not need to be a genius to realise that they must be visiting someone.

  “Indeed, Mrs Longbottom. A pleasure to finally meet you. You were in a hurry the st time we met on the ptform.”

  “A pleasure. Neville,” she turned to her grandson. “Greet your friend and prepare to leave. We have much to do.”

  The old woman promptly ignored him before turning to Head Healer Tonks, who shot him an apologetic smile as he led the woman away from the ward’s door to finish their discussion.

  “I will let Healer Tonks know of the results, Mr Potter.”

  Harry nodded to Chiara as she clutched the stack of paper to her chest and hurried to join her teacher, leaving him with Neville. It was a good chance to catch up with one of his school friends, as they did not have an opportunity to talk during the ball. Harry pnned for a Diagon Alley outing, and he hoped to invite as many of his friends as possible.

  “So, Neville. How was summer?”

  A*L*S*M

  Later that evening

  Greengrass manor

  “Here you go, Harry. The Sword of Godric Gryffindor!”

  Harry smiled in anticipation as Estelle Greengrass presented him with the sheathed sword, and he accepted it. His fingers carefully grasped the leather-bound handle and gently pulled the sword out of the scabbard. The bde was unchanged, as far as he could feel. Or, well, perhaps it was slightly shinier, with a new grip that matched his hand well. It was a good thing he had asked her to not base the new grip on his child-like hands; otherwise, he would not be able to hold it with two hands.

  They were in the same opulent drawing room they were in on that day he left her the sword; this time, though, Apollo Greengrass was seated next to his wife, smoking his pipe. Harry had arrived two hours earlier and was immediately invited for dinner the moment they took one look at him. He was far too tired physically and magically to hide how thin he was, and the adults did no more than inspect him before shrugging and muttering, “ritual shenanigans.”

  Daphne, Tracey, and Astoria were a different story.

  “Bloody Hell, Potter! You look like someone put you in a stretching machine and sucked all the flesh from your body.” Daphne was miffed at being shorter than him, though not by much. The dark-haired girl had gained an inch or two since he had st seen her a month ago. Harry would have ughed as she curiously tapped his sides before tiptoeing as she patted the top of his head; as if she was making sure it was not a gmour and that he did indeed get a growth spurt.

  “The blood, too,” Tracey rubbed her chin as she stared at his gaunt cheeks, her hands raising as if to touch them before noticing his gaze and blushing. Instead, she turned to Astoria accusingly. “You didn’t actually turn into a vampire behind our backs and suck him dry, did you?”

  “What?! Of course not,” Tori had shaken her head and hands vehemently, though she kept staring at him with worry. “Nevermind that, are you alright, Harry? You look like you haven’t eaten in years!”

  “Come now, girls. Let your friend breathe and have something to eat first.” Mary had finally dragged the girls away from him before ushering them all to the dining room where Estelle and Apollo Greengrass were seated at the dining table. It took Harry a lot of discipline not to descend on the utterly luxurious feast set on the table in favour of first greeting the lord and dy of the house.

  Suffice it to say, the Greengrasses did not have to worry about leftovers with him around.

  After spending some time with the girls and extracting a promise to meet at the Alley in a few days, Mary took them for chores while Harry joined Estelle and Apollo in the drawing room.

  “Thank you, Estelle.” Harry brandished the sword, testing its weight and bance. It was still heavy, or perhaps his exhausted body made it more difficult to wave it around. “What have you discovered about it?”

  “I have managed to decipher the secret behind the summoning charm, as well as disable the one in the gem. Now, no one will be able to summon it through the Sorting Hat.”

  “Brilliant,” Harry sheathed the bde back again and turned to Apollo. “I take it you also learned about it?”

  “Naturally,” Lord Greengrass puffed his pipe and exhaled rings of smoke towards the open window. “Nothing happens in this house without my knowledge.”

  The older man’s voice was nguid, yet Harry felt sweat forming on his back. Nothing? Well, he should know that it was Tracey who made that move, not him.

  “So, how does the spell work?”

  “It is not easy, for while we call it summoning, it really has more to do with teleporting. Closer to a self-portkey than anything.” Estelle drank from her cup of tea, giving him a moment to process her words. “Ultimately, while I believe learning and using that spell instead of apparition is possible, it works best on inanimate objects. First, you will enchant the item. Then, an anchor must be set as well as a condition for the spell to activate, at which point it will teleport to the anchor. Furthermore, there are other effects that need–”

  Harry did his best to follow along with the excited dy’s expnation, but soon, he found himself getting lost in the details as his eyes drooped and he fought back a yawn. Thankfully, Apollo had foreseen that and handed him a small unmarked book.

  “Everything about that spell that we have managed to unravel is here. I do not expect you to be able to enchant the item nor the anchor before your seventh year, so my suggestion is to come to us if you need any enchantment work.”

  Harry accepted the book gratefully and nodded. “Thank you, Mr Greengrass.”

  “What did I say about calling me by name?”

  “Yes, Apollo.” Harry rolled his eyes, causing Estelle to ugh. “Was that all you discovered about the sword?”

  “Just one more. Only the tip of the sword is imbued with Basilisk Venom because of the way it was forged. Usually, weapons made from Goblin Wrought Silver use a singur metal ingot. This way, any enchantments on them would be easier to apply and retain their magic.”

  “Usually?”

  “Yes, it is said that Godric Gryffindor had commissioned the metal from the goblins, but he was the one to reforge it into his sword. That had greatly angered the goblins, for Godric had just proven that even wizards can use the metal and smith it as they please. Regardless, it appears that Gryffindor was quite the enchanter and smith, for he had devised a way to separate the metal into three parts, each retaining their own enchantments.”

  “Fascinating! But that does not expin why the other parts were not imbued with the venom.”

  “And that is not a fw, but actually by design.” Estelle’s eyes were wide with excitement, and Harry nearly thought the elderly woman would soon bounce in her seat. “Typically, the bde is divided into three sections: the forte, the middle, and the foible. What Godric did is to have the foible, where the tip is, be capable of imbuing whatever enchantment or venom you wish without causing the rest of the bde to be imbued simultaneously.”

  Harry was still a bit lost but disagreed as he recalled his fight with the trolls, “I don’t see how this is a good thing. It was quite dangerous when I discovered that only the tip had venom in it, while the edges were simply sharp.”

  “Ah, but here’s the genius of Godric. The middle part of the bde has two slicing edges. Each edge can retain its own special enchantment, but it's charmed in a way so that none of the three methods of attacking, the tip or the two edges, could retain the same type of enchantment.”

  Now Harry finally understood what Estelle was getting at. It expined many things, such as why the bde would not accept any more Basilisk Venom when he tried coating it in the stuff. Only the tip had it, but the edges were pure. Waiting for him to imbue them with some enchantment or venom - if he had known about it beforehand, Harry could definitely see the advantage of having three methods of attack instead of one.

  “Can the bde be cleansed of imbuements? Let’s say I want to remove the venom from the tip and have it on one of the edges instead.”

  “It is not easy, as it will require a special cleansing ritual,” Estelle looked at him strangely before shrugging. “But I can prepare such a ritual for you if you wish.”

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Harry squinted his eyes and stifled another yawn, “I was just asking in case I mess up with an enchantment ter on.”

  “Alright,” Apollo suddenly stood up and stretched. “It’s getting te, and I think we are done here. Harry, I am sure we can discuss enchantments and other matters ter, but right now, I think you should go to sleep. One must always rest and recover after a ritual.”

  The moment the man mentioned sleep, Harry yawned mightily, and was suddenly reminded by his exhaustion. The veritable feast the Greengrasses prepared for him only made him more drowsy. As Estelle hugged him goodnight and Apollo walked him to the firepce, Harry could only nod along as the man mentioned something about the Wildnd before shaking his head in amusement and throwing floo powder at the firepce.

  Harry could barely remember arriving in the manor and going to the nearest bedroom, not bothering to change, dropping the sword on a chair before colpsing on the bed.

  A*L*S*M

  Saturday morning, 7th of August 1993

  The Leaky Cauldron

  Harry stepped out of the green fmes of the floo, finding the tavern crowded with people. A few gnces were sent his way by people waiting on friends or family before returning to what they were doing - he had opted to keep the scar hidden from now on, this way only those who knew him closely would recognise him.

  A shout from the bar grabbed his attention, however.

  “Harry! Over here.”

  It was the Weasley twins, Fred and George; Tom was grinning at him behind the bar, answering the question in his mind about how the twins recognised him. Harry made a beeline to them and joined them by the bar.

  “Long time no see, mate.”

  “Blimey, if you haven't gotten a growth spurt!”

  “True that, he's even taller than us now.”

  Harry chuckled as he waved at Tom to bring him breakfast and tea. He already ate, of course, but there was always room for a second breakfast. Growing was a famishing business, and he had to regain his former strength quickly.

  “What can I say, ds?” Harry gave them a roguish grin. “Puberty hit me like the Whomping Willow.”

  He inspected the Weasley twins, finding that despite their cheery attitude, there was a subdued air around them. The loss of their brother would always haunt them, and Harry could see that their eyes were not as bright, even having a morose edge to them.

  “Careful, George. Harry might just steal all the pretty birds in school.”

  “I'm sure that would be a problem for you, my less handsome twin, but I fear no such issues.”

  “So, where's the rest of your family?” Harry interrupted before they went on one of their endless tirades. “I'm actually surprised to see you here so early, we are not to meet before nine, right?”

  It was just a few minutes past eight in the morning, and he never expected the Weasley Twins of all people to be early risers.

  “Yeah, usually we are always either right on time or slightly te.” Fred, or maybe it was George, shrugged as he accepted his breakfast tray from Tom. “Anyway, let's go have ourselves a table.”

  Harry nodded as he and the other twin grabbed their breakfast and followed him to a table in the corner, where he found a surprising addition waiting.

  “Mafalda, good morning.”

  “Morning,” The girl looked like she had just woken up but was busy eating her breakfast. “You guys again?”

  “Come now, little cuz,” Fred sat on the girl's right. “We don't have many retives from our mother's side.”

  “Unless you count Muriel,” George sat on the girl's left. “She's your great-grandmother. Nasty old bat.”

  Harry joined them in the st seat across from Maddie. “Didn’t she threaten to disown you because of some prank?”

  “That and many other threats. The woman is nearly Dumbledore’s age yet acts like she's twice as powerful and thrice as important.”

  “So, she wouldn't want to meet me?” Mafalda asked in a small voice as she nibbled on a piece of toast before her eyes went wide. “N-Not like I care about some old woman. She is probably one of those who were mean to my Dad, anyway.”

  “Speaking of, where is Killian?” Harry looked around, not finding the Prewett man’s shock of red hair anywhere in the pub. “I thought he would be joining us today?”

  “He said he will meet us ter. Daddy has some business in London… something about trying to get our money from the bank. We will meet in Gringotts if he succeeds; Hopefully, Tom’s gmour will work.” Maddie gnced at the twins listening closely, causing her to grimace. “Anyway, it’s not important. He has more business in Gringotts ter for Tom. Daddy had taken over the finances of the Leaky Cauldron and discovered some discrepancies that would need to be reviewed with the goblins.”

  Fred and George exchanged a gnce at the girl’s whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes, but a warning kick from him had them notice Maddie’s morose look; They nodded and focused on their food. Within a few minutes, they were done and nursing a drink. Tea for Harry, orange juice for Mafalda (she hated pumpkin juice), and butter beer for the twins.

  “So, how did you guys meet?” Harry asked the trio before turning to Maddie. “I know your father met with Arthur Weasley, but I didn't think you two would know her.”

  “Oh, we have known about her for some time. Dad mentioned it to Mum and us, but we never had the chance to meet up.” One of the twins said before the other continued. “Mum hasn't been the same since Ron's death. None of us are. She never would have had us come to the Alley on our own before, but now she just… lets us do whatever we want. We met with Maddie and Hermione a few times.”

  The table went despondent over the mention of Ron, though Mafalda looked confused. “Ron is their brother and my best friend. He died in an… accident in school a few months ago.”

  “Oh…” The girl looked sad, as if mourning the loss of a cousin she had never known before looking at them strangely. “I thought the school was safe. Is it normal for students to die?”

  “The st time a student died was fifty years ago, but aside from those two menaces, you should be safe.”

  “Why, Harry!”

  “We are perfect gentlemen who would never bother girls.”

  “Especially little girls who are also family.”

  “Even if she's sorted in Slytherin?” Harry smirked at the twins’ faces going green, and found Mafalda humming in thought. “Slytherin is–”

  “I know about the Hogwarts houses, and I find the whole thing silly, really.”

  Fred and George looked at her strangely, “Who told you about that?”

  “Hermione, of course.” Maddie's face lit up as she mentioned his friend. “She told me many things about school and what to expect when I go there.”

  One of the twins smmed his fist on the table, “S-She couldn't have!”

  “Brother dearest! She must have?!”

  “Sweet cousin, she didn't tell you how the sorting works, did she?”

  Mafalda looked at the twins like they'd grown a second head, “Well, yeah. The sorting hat, right?”

  “Noooo!/Noooo!!”

  Harry guffawed as the twins colpsed bonelessly in their chairs, moaning about treason of the highest order, all the while, Maddie stared at them all like they had gone insane.

  A quick expnation ter, the girl nodded in understanding, and soon, she started grilling her cousins for questions. Fred was busy regaling Mafalda with tall tales from school, clearly trying to undo the damage that Hermione had done by giving the young, impressionable girl decent advice instead of something way funnier.

  “So, anything else happened at your pce?” Harry asked George, he was positive it was George this time. “I head that Sirius Bck was sighted near Plymouth a few weeks ago.”

  George looked thoughtful as he drank his butterbeer, “Not much. Oh, Uncle Bilius nearly died from a car crash.”

  “Oh dear, how did that happen?”

  “He usually goes drinking in the muggle pubs of the town after he visits. This time, he cimed to have seen a bloody Grim lurking around the grounds of our home.”

  “What’s a Grim?”

  “An omen of death that takes the form of a rge bck hound. It is said that anyone who sees it dies within twenty-four hours.” George's voice was solemn, and Harry could sense no jest or deceit from him - he was truthful. “We thought it was just a stray dog or something, but Dad still joined him in scouring the pce searching for it. They found nothing, of course.”

  “And then?”

  “Well, a few hours ter, Dad took Uncle Bilius out for a drink. On their way home, a truck nearly ran him over if not for Dad pulling him out of the way.”

  For some reason, Harry had a foreboding feeling about the Grim. He could not understand why, but Ghost had stirred at the mention of such a canine.

  “Thank God for your father's quick thinking.”

  George raised his bottle in cheers before draining the st of it, “Looks like the rest of the gang is here.”

  Harry turned to the firepce, finding it spewing out two more redheads, Ginny and Percy, followed by the blonde form of Luna Lovegood and finally Arthur Weasley. Molly was absent, and Harry felt for the matronly woman, but he thought she needed to let go. It was one thing to grieve for a dead son but another entirely to ignore the rest of her children.

  As, it was not his pce to meddle in the family affairs of others.

  At the same time the Weasleys arrived, the tavern door opened, and Hermione stepped in. Harry, Maddie, and the twins stood up to greet them before the firepce turned green again, and even more people stepped out.

  The Greengrasses, the Boneses, and many more of his schoolmates. Harry had eyes only for the girl who had just stepped out after her brothers.

  Susan Bones, if possible, had grown even more beautiful in the month since he had st seen her. Her radiant smile as she found him made his mind go bnk as he grinned back at her.

  A*L*S*M

  Bristol City

  Port of Bristol

  A rge bck hound bounded from one spot to another, sniffing and gring at every corner he could see. From the parking lots, to the warehouses and buildings, he would sniff and smell the air, then cover the ground with his nose as it hurried from one pier to the next. Several dockworkers tried shooing it away, only to receive a terrible growl with too many sharp teeth in return, and suddenly, they did not mind the dog sniffing around and chasing after critters and vermin.

  For an entire day, the dog sniffed like a bloodhound over every pier and dock, through lines of containers and even risked climbing onto a ship before getting chased away. Its ears twitched this way and that as it hunted after every rat, mouse, squirrel, or rodent it could see. It left a trail of dead critters that had started to freak out the dockworkers so much they eventually called the authorities to send dog catchers from the local pound.

  Yet whenever the dog catchers arrived, they never found the dog - only the long trail of dead rodents.

  Three days after the dog first appeared, there were no more rats in the entire port–a feat unseen before in the history of Bristol. The dog stood over the roof of a building as it gred at the setting sun over the Bristol Channel. It had lost the scent of its prey. The prey it had been hunting non-stop for months, the closest it had ever come and it was gone!

  A low growl formed in the Grim’s throat before it howled into the heavens. So loud was the howl, so full of rage and fury and magic that all the denizens of Bristol and even in Cardiff across the channel heard it, and many a child would lose sleep for a week over the sinister, blood-curdling sound.

  Meanwhile, deep in the Celtic Sea, a certain rat missing a finger in its paw shuddered as it could have sworn it heard an enraged howl in the wind. The sheer terror that possessed it nearly made it lose its grip over the bar it held to and fall into the water. Peter Pettigrew adjusted his grip and hurried down the rails into an open hatch leading to the kitchens. It had taken him all his wits and cunning to escape from the clutches of his former friend. He had no allies, for none believed him to be alive. His former friends in the Order believed him dead, and if he showed himself alive, they would realise he was a traitor.

  His master’s servants never knew who the spy in the Order was, and none of them would believe him, even if he had proof. He could feel Lord Voldemort’s wand in his pocket, next to his own, yet many of those so-called loyal servants would sooner kill him than risk having him around.

  It was not like he could bme them. Peter Pettigrew was a coward and was smart enough to admit that. Yet, he was also smart enough to know who the winning side was. The Dark Lord was eternal, even if he was vanquished for a while, he would return, for none had seen what he could do better than him, the spy!

  Wormtail knew that once the Dark Lord returned, he would reap a bloody vengeance on all those who wronged him, starting with his supposed servants who had renounced him. The mere idea of what Lord Voldemort would do to him if he did not offer something in return scared Wormtail more than what Sirius would do to him if he caught him.

  Peter knew he had vital information about the boy and the situation in Britain, yet he feared it was not enough. He had to bring more, and following the ignoble demise of Lucius Malfoy, Wormtail knew a potential lead to bring unexpected allies to the Dark Lord.

  Hopefully, he would be able to find his lord in that pce, and he would feel a smidgen of mercy for poor little Wormtail.

  Exposition, information, and a physical check-up. We get to see how the magic system works in this world and we learn that while Harry is growing into a physical powerhouse… he has a lot of work ahead of him.

  As for magic, eh, we shall wait and see.

  Harry meets his match as he is nearly defeated by a simple training regimen.

  Finally, we get an update on the Hunt. Wormtail escapes, a year early, while Sirius is in an utter fury. Would he chase after him? Can he chase after him? He does have a wand and is quite a resourceful wizard, but we will wait and see how this saga goes.