GamerFiction
patreon
The Wind Mage's Legacy: Chapter 31
🕑 Added 2025-07-26 07:05:56 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s the next chapter. Behind again, so this is a longer chapter. Two more chapters are coming tomorrow.
Chapter 31
The squadron commander's wand rose. "Stand down, Potter. This is your final warning."
Harry shook his head. "Words are useless now.”
Fifty wands erupted simultaneously. The courtyard blazed with spell-fire—stunners, binding curses, and cutting hexes streaking through the air in coordinated volleys. Each curse flew with lethal accuracy, designed to overwhelm through sheer volume. They were on another level compared to the Ministry Aurors.
Harry dodged sideways as a cutting curse whizzed past him, where he had been a second ago. His own stunner lashed out wandlessly, striking a hit-wizard square in the chest before the man could blink. The wizard crumpled to the flagstones.
Forty-nine.
Two more stunners followed in rapid succession, each cast finding its mark through gaps in their formation.
"Scatter! Don't cluster!" the commander barked.
Too late. Harry's wind barrier absorbed a barrage of curses, the magical energy dissipating harmlessly against it. He retaliated immediately, sending three stunners into the disrupted formation. The hit-wizards stumbled as their tight ranks broke apart.
Forty-five.
Kaze's voice whispered in his mind. "Harry, shall I help? The wind spirits are eager—"
"No." Harry ducked a stunner and retaliated with three wandless spells in quick succession. "Take care of Daphne and the others. Keep them safe."
The battle rhythm quickened. Harry's stunners came faster now, his developing Mage abilities improving quickly as the battle went on. He could sense every movement, every breath of his opponents. A hit-wizard tried flanking from the left—Harry's stunner dropped him before he'd taken three steps.
Thirty-eight.
But the ICW forces weren't lightweights. They adapted quickly, partnering up with the wizard next to them. One cast a conjured shield to protect them from his Stunners, while the other continued their offence.
Some hit-wizards changed things up by conjuring animals. The eagles dove towards him, their screeches piercing the air. Harry flew upwards, avoiding their attack, but the distraction cost him. A barrage of twenty simultaneous curses forced him higher, sizzling through the space he'd occupied.
The eagles pursued him skyward. Harry twisted in mid-air, sending stunners at their conjured forms. The magical constructs dissolved on impact, but more were already taking their place—hawks, ravens, even a conjured dragon that breathed fire.
He retaliated from above, raining stunners down like artillery. Five more hit-wizards collapsed in rapid succession, but Harry's satisfaction was short-lived.
"Bring him down!" the commander shouted. "Ground-binding hex, now!"
Violet light erupted from a dozen wands. Harry felt the spell's pull, trying to drag him earthward, but he laughed at the attempt. He rode their currents higher, then dove towards the formation below.
His descent became a weapon. Wind compressed beneath him, then exploded outward as he touched down. Eight hit-wizards staggered, their defensive formations shattered. Harry's stunners found them before they could recover.
Twenty-five.
The courtyard had become a battlefield of fallen bodies. Harry stood in the centre of the destruction, untouched by the dozens of spells that had sought to bring him down.
His movements had become hypnotic—dodge, cast, dodge, cast. Each stunner flew with inhuman accuracy. The hit-wizards' return fire grew increasingly desperate as their numbers dwindled.
Eighteen.
Several hit-wizards had broken off from the main attack, kneeling beside their fallen comrades and casting a spell on them. Harry watched as the unconscious bodies began to stir.
They're reviving them.
A cutting curse grazed his shoulder, parting fabric and drawing blood. Harry's response was automatic—three stunners launched simultaneously, dropping the offending wizard and two of his companions.
Fifteen.
Harry frowned. If they kept reviving the stunned hit-wizards, this battle would never end. He could use more lethal spells. It would be easy.
No. They're following orders. Doing their jobs, however misguided. He couldn’t kill them for that.
Instead, his casting speed increased dramatically, stunners flowing from his hands in an almost continuous stream, pushing his abilities to their limit.
The hit-wizards couldn't keep up. Harry's stunners came so fast that their defensive spells couldn't intercept them all. Red light blazed across the courtyard in an unending barrage.
The remaining hit-wizards stumbled backwards, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of spells coming their way. Even the commander’s confident attitude faltered when she saw that a single wizard was slowly tearing them apart.
The castle doors burst open, and Ayano emerged. Behind her streamed a tide of students—Hermione, Ron, Astoria, Neville, Ginny, plus many more.
Harry's movements slowed as he watched them approach.
The remaining ICW hit-wizards hesitated, their wands wavering as dozens of students spread across the courtyard.
"What are you doing here?" Ron bellowed. "Come to arrest our friend for protecting us?"
"Bloody incompetent cowards!" Ginny added. "Fifty against one, and you're still losing!"
The students' voices rose in a chorus of jeers and taunts. Their wands remained raised, not threatening but ready. The message was clear—Harry wouldn't face this alone.
Movement caught Harry's eye. Another formation marched across the distant grounds—fifty more ICW hit-wizards approaching in perfect ranks. Fresh reinforcements.
The squadron commander straightened, confidence returning. "All students will stand down immediately and return to the castle. You're interfering with an official ICW operation. Anyone who continues will be arrested for obstruction."
More figures emerged from the castle—adults this time. Professor McGonagall led them, a fierce expression on her face. Behind her came the Weasley parents, Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Fleur, and a stream of Order members Harry recognised. Kingsley wasn’t among them.
"I have not permitted you to invade Hogwarts," McGonagall declared. "Leave now before this escalates into a larger incident. I'm a proud Scottish witch, not afraid to go against authority when they're behaving like eejits"
The crowd swelled as students and adults joined together. Their shouts grew louder, more defiant.
Harry watched in bemusement. He never thought things would end up this way.
"Stand back!" the commander tried again, but her voice was lost in the cacophony of jeers and protests.
Only Harry noticed the new arrival.
A single figure approached from the castle's main entrance. Babajide Akingbade, the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW.
His voice cut through the tumult like a thunderclap. "What the hell is going on here?"
Silence fell as if someone had cast a muting charm. Everyone turned towards the approaching figure.
"Who ordered this operation?" Babajide continued. "Stand down. All of you. Now."
The two squadron commanders rushed forward, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste to explain. Babajide’s expression grew progressively darker as the explanation continued.
The tension that had gripped the courtyard began to ebb. Wands lowered on both sides, though they didn't disappear entirely. Harry felt the collective breath of relief from the students and adults who'd come to his defence.
The crowd parted as he approached. Hermione reached him first and pulled him into a fierce hug
"You brilliant, reckless idiot," she whispered. "We heard the fighting and—"
"I'm fine," Harry said, returning her embrace. "Though I appreciate the cavalry charge."
Ron clapped his shoulder. "Couldn't let you have all the fun, could we?"
"Are you hurt?" Ayano asked.
"Just a few scratches." Harry looked around at the faces surrounding him—friends, teachers, people who'd risked themselves by standing against authority. "Thank you. All of you."
McGonagall approached, her stern expression softening slightly. “Fifty skilled hit-wizards, Mr. Potter. It reminds me of the night you defeated Voldemort. Don’t share this with anyone, but watching that was a glorious sight that made this old heart race. It’s too bad I didn’t get to see all of this one.”
Harry shrugged. “This was tame in comparison. No one died.”
He spent the next few minutes speaking with everyone, accepting congratulations and reassurances from the gathered students and adults. The adrenaline from the battle was wearing off, leaving him with a strange mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. He'd proven his point—the ICW's hit-wizards were skilled, but not skilled enough.
He sensed the Supreme Mugwump approaching before the man spoke.
"Can we speak in private, Mr Potter?"
Harry turned to face Babajide Akingbade. "You're not here to arrest me?"
"I never gave such an order. I would like to explain."
Ron stepped forward. "You can explain it to all of us. Since when did the ICW act like such berks?"
"Ron Weasley!" Both Molly and Hermione exclaimed simultaneously.
Ron grimaced, shooting apologetic looks at both women.
George leaned in and whispered, "Between my mum and Hermione, Ron is properly hen-pecked."
Harry snorted but continued speaking to Babajide. "Alright, but I need to get back to the castle. Make it quick."
They moved away from the others until no one could overhear them.
"I learned from the squad commanders that the orders for your capture came from my assistant," Babajide said. "He usually doesn't have such authority, but I have been on holiday, spending time with my family. He has temporary powers to act in my stead. I never thought he would betray me like this."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I thought something funny was going on. How did you know what was happening?"
"A little birdie tipped me off. I came here as fast as I could."
"Does your assistant usually act like this?"
"No, this goes completely against his character. In fact, he used to be one of your biggest supporters."
"Then he is being manipulated."
"By who?"
"Gaia,” Harry replied. “It is sowing chaos among the magical and spiritual community."
Babajide's expression darkened. "Gaia is dead. Has been for centuries."
"Then you know who Gaia is."
"Our records are extensive, Mr Potter. It's our job to know all the possible threats."
"Well, Gaia's definitely back. I have irrefutable evidence, and he has already been the mastermind of several incidents, including the attack at King's Cross station. Well, I'm almost certain Gaia's behind that one."
Babajide was about to respond when a Labrador patronus materialised beside them, interrupting their conversation. The silver dog spoke in an urgent voice: "Supreme Mugwump, it’s a disaster! The ICW headquarters has been attacked. An explosion ripped through the wards and destroyed half the building. The blast was so big that it caught the attention of the Muggle authorities."
The patronus disappeared.
"Dammit." Babajide spun around and roared at the ICW hit-wizards who were still reviving their unconscious colleagues. "Return to Geneva immediately. There has been an attack on the headquarters. Secure the building and look for survivors."
The hit-wizards immediately started running for the ward boundaries.
"This sounds like something Gaia would do,” Harry said. “I thought this was a campaign to get rid of me, but it may have had another purpose."
Babajide sighed. "To cause a distraction and to leave headquarters vulnerable. Do you know how rare it is to mobilise so many hit-wizards, Mr Potter? The two squadrons make up nearly half of our elite forces."
"Seems kind of small."
"For you, maybe. But for most threats, they are more than sufficient. I need to return and sort out this mess."
Babajide started leaving, then stopped and turned back. "This may be shameful of me to ask, especially since you were just attacked by my hit-wizards, but may I have your assistance? I don't know what situation I will be walking into when I return."
But Harry wasn't looking in his direction. He saw Daphne slowly walking across the grounds, being assisted by Astoria and Ayano. Kaze and the wind spirits followed behind them, maintaining a protective formation around them.
"What is she doing out of bed?" Harry muttered.
"Mr Potter?"
Harry's attention snapped back to Babajide. "Give me a few minutes. I will meet you there."
Babajide nodded and left.
Harry hurried to Daphne. "Are you crazy? You haven't recovered yet."
Daphne lifted her chin. "I'm not an invalid. I can move around easily enough."
Harry lifted Daphne into his arms without warning. "Bollocks. Girl, why do you have to try my patience?"
Daphne squirmed in his arms. "Let me down."
"Nope. We need to talk."
Harry flew up into the air with her in his arms and headed towards the Hospital Wing. Once he reached the window, he flew through it. Madam Pomfrey was standing there with her wand raised, ready to replace the window he had vanished earlier.
"Mr Potter. You scared me,” Madam Pomfrey said, holding a hand to her chest. “Miss Greengrass, what are you doing out of bed?"
"Went to check on Harry.”
Harry interrupted before Madam Pomfrey could get started on her. "Don't worry, Poppy. I will make sure to lecture Daphne on her foolishness. If she weren't so hurt, I would paint her pretty ass red."
Daphne squawked in outrage.
Madam Pomfrey headed for her office. "I don't need to hear your bedroom talk, Mr Potter."
Harry placed Daphne on the bed and pulled the blankets up over her. Daphne pouted but didn't argue further.
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.
"Like I got run over by a troll?"
Harry smiled despite himself. "A pretty apt description of McLaggen. Don't worry, I will make sure he and the other culprits are expelled."
Daphne turned her head to look at the other beds. "Where did the orphans go? They're injured. How could they be so—"
"Foolish?"
Daphne fell silent.
"Looks like they used the opportunity to make a run for it. Listen, Daphne, I don't have much time. I need to go to Geneva.. The ICW headquarters was attacked."
Daphne settled back into her pillows. "I'll be fine. Just be careful."
Harry took a deep breath. "Before I go, there's something Poppy told me."
"That I'm pregnant."
"You know?"
"Madam Pomfrey told me as she was trying to persuade me from leaving the Hospital Wing. I'm sure the entire castle will know by morning."
"Oh well, it was going to get out sooner or later. How do you feel about it?"
Daphne was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. Still trying to process it. At least I have enough time to take my NEWT exams before my baby arrives."
"Our baby. I'm still processing it as well, but I'm not unhappy about it. Terrified is more accurate."
"It's okay. We have plenty of time to get used to the fact. Does Ayano know?"
"She guessed the truth."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "I bet she read you like a book. You should get going. We can discuss this later."
Harry kissed her briefly on the lips. "Alright, but I call dibs on naming our firstborn."
He flew out the window to the sound of Daphne protesting loudly about his presumption.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Harry arrived at the outskirts of Geneva using his Wind Walker ability, the air tunnel dissipating as he slowed his approach. The ICW headquarters building sat in ruins below him, a testament to the devastating explosion that had torn through its protective wards.
The building had been positioned on the outskirts of the city, thankfully. Swiss authorities had managed to establish a perimeter that kept curious civilians at a safe distance. Wizards and Muggle authorities worked side by side around the perimeter, an unusual sight that spoke to the severity of the crisis.
He surveyed the destruction from above, noting how the blast had originated from the building's core and radiated outward. The ICW headquarters had been a magnificent structure. Now it looked like a pile of debris scattered across the ground, similar to the aftermath of a plane crash.
Harry descended slowly, touching down near a cluster of police officers. They immediately pointed at him as if he were some exotic creature, their expressions mixing awe with uncertainty. He wore his Tempest uniform, preferring not to show up as himself.
He ignored their stares and began searching for the Supreme Mugwump. Babajide stood near the building's remains, consulting with a mixed group of wizards and emergency workers.
Babajide spotted him and stopped mid-conversation. "Tempest, what are you doing here?"
The implied meaning was clear—why was he here as Tempest rather than Harry Potter?
"I came to help. Where do you need me?" Harry asked.
One of the emergency workers, a man in a reflective vest, stepped forward with obvious excitement.
"Tempest! My daughter is a huge fan." His expression quickly sobered as he gestured toward the wreckage. "Our main issue is getting rid of the large debris without causing a further collapse and burying the survivors."
"There's another problem,” Babajide said. “From what we know, the building's collapse was caused by a series of explosions. It was probably caused by a magical explosive device. Another blast happened right after we arrived, bringing down the rest of the building. We don’t know if there are more devices still set to explode.”
Harry nodded. "That won't be a problem for me. Supreme Mugwump, are you working with the mundane authorities?"
"Yes. We have an agreement with the Swiss government to cooperate if a disaster occurs that we cannot conceal in time. The logistics of how we will cover it up are still in the works, but I'm leaning towards a magical non-disclosure agreement that will prevent people from mentioning it in any form."
"Alright. I'm going to get started."
Harry closed his eyes and extended his wind senses throughout the ruins. The ability flowed through every crack and crevice, mapping the debris field in three dimensions within his mind. His senses detected seventeen distinct magical signatures buried beneath the wreckage—some strong, others barely flickering. More concerning were the three explosive devices he found scattered throughout the debris.
He opened his eyes. "I've found the remaining devices. Give me a moment to neutralise them."
Wind currents snaked through the rubble, following paths only Harry could perceive. When his senses touched each explosive device, he carefully wrapped it in a bubble of compressed air and began dismantling the magical triggers. The delicate work required absolute concentration—one mistake would set them off.
The first device yielded easily. The second proved more stubborn, its creator having invested considerably more skill into its construction. The third device was the most sophisticated, requiring Harry to slowly unravel multiple layers of protective enchantments before he could safely disarm it.
"Devices neutralised," Harry announced after several tense minutes.
The assembled workers visibly relaxed. Babajide nodded his approval before gesturing toward the wreckage. "Now we can focus on the extraction."
Harry began the delicate process of removing the debris. Rather than simply blasting through the rubble, he used the wind currents to support unstable sections whilst carefully lifting away smaller pieces. Each movement required careful calculation—too much force would trigger a collapse, too little would take hours they didn't have.
The work proceeded methodically. Harry would stabilise a section, then lift away debris piece by piece until emergency workers could reach the trapped survivors.
The rescue efforts continued for two hours. Some survivors required immediate magical intervention to stabilise their conditions before they could be moved. Others had been protected by personal wards or lucky positioning when the building came down. Each successful extraction raised the spirits of the rescue teams.
They finally rescued the last survivor, a young witch protected by a fallen beam. Babajide walked over to Harry, clearly worn out.
"Is that all the survivors?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. The rest buried there are beyond saving."
Babajide's shoulders sagged. "Almost half of the ICW members who were in the building were killed. This is a catastrophe."
"There was no stopping this, not even with the hit-wizards present. If I were Gaia, I wouldn't have had them go after me. They would be among the dead here."
"It's obvious that you are a bigger threat than one hundred hit-wizards. Gaia probably thought it was worth the gamble."
Harry considered this assessment in silence. "Any sign of your assistant?"
"No. If he's still here, he's not alive."
"Gaia has achieved what it set out to do. Probably already discarded him."
"Was my assistant complicit? Or was he just a puppet being used?"
"Hard to say. But I'm leaning towards the latter."
"A small comfort." Babajide surveyed the destruction surrounding them. "Gaia needs to be taken down. I need to clean up this mess, but I have to worry about further attacks from an enemy I can't see."
"I will stop Gaia. That's a promise."
"If anyone can do it, it's you," Babajide replied. "I need to thank you for your assistance here. If there is anything you need, you only need to ask."
Harry considered his words carefully. He hadn't set out to benefit from this tragedy, but there was something the Supreme Mugwump could do for him.
"Can you tell the British Ministry to pull their heads out of their arses?" Harry asked. "It's partially the ICW's fault. Because you became so eager to hunt me down, the Ministry has grown bold. They see me as a threat, no matter how many lives I save."
"I can see what I can do. Give me a few days to sort out this mess, and then I will visit Minister Kingsley personally."
"Excellent." Harry paused, then added with a slight grin, "Oh, and get my Quidditch suspension lifted whilst you're at it. I'm sure my coach is tearing his hair out at the moment."
Despite everything, Babajide managed a tired smile. "I think that can be arranged. Consider it a small token of the ICW's gratitude."
Harry walked away from the rescue site, his mind already turning to the challenge ahead. He was about to launch himself skyward when a familiar voice echoed in his thoughts.
"Are you dumb?" Night's sardonic tone cut through his contemplation. "You've had the answer on how to find Gaia all this time, and you didn't notice."
"What are you talking about?"
"The Potter Grimoire. It has a plethora of Mage spells that you can tap into."
Harry wanted to slap himself. How had he forgotten about it? There had to be something useful for hunting an entity like Gaia.
"You still need more training, though," Night continued. "Those spells require you to merge your two powers, and you're not proficient enough yet."
"Bloody wind.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Harry arrived back at Hogwarts and headed straight for the Headmistress's Tower. He vanished the glass and stepped through the opening, his feet touching down on the floor of the headmistress's office.
Minerva McGonagall glanced up from where she sat behind her desk, surrounded by familiar faces. The Weasley family had claimed most of the available chairs, whilst Andromeda sat with Teddy balanced on her lap. A half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey sat prominently on the desk, accompanied by several glasses in various states of emptiness.
Dumbledore's portrait was conspicuously absent from its usual place on the wall.
Teddy spotted Harry immediately and launched himself forward with a delighted squeal, his hair shifting from sandy brown to jet black in an instant.
"Have you heard of a door, Harry?" Minerva asked.
Harry caught Teddy before the boy could tumble from Andromeda's arms, settling him comfortably against his chest. "The window is much faster."
Fleur rose gracefully from her seat and crossed the room to embrace Harry. "I hear congratulations are in order. You will make a wonderful father."
"Thanks. The news is getting around much quicker than I thought."
Mrs Weasley was next, enveloping both Harry and Teddy in one of her signature bone-crushing hugs. "Hogwarts is prone to gossip. I bet it will make tomorrow's paper."
George whispered loudly. "And mum is one of the worst gossips."
Mrs Weasley shot her son a withering look. Everyone laughed as George pretended to duck for cover.
Everyone else came forward to congratulate Harry, causing Teddy to protest all the smothering.
Minerva gestured toward an empty chair. "Sit down, Harry. You look exhausted."
She poured a generous measure of Firewhiskey into a clean glass and offered it to him. Harry settled into the chair, adjusting Teddy on his lap.
"How bad was it?" Minerva asked.
"Bad enough,” Harry replied. "Over a hundred lives lost. But it could have been much worse."
The scale of destruction at the ICW headquarters would haunt him for days. So many talented witches and wizards, snuffed out by Gaia's machinations.
"What happened to Dumbledore's portrait?" Harry asked.
Minerva's expression soured. "Your little friend refused to return it. He's hiding it somewhere."
"I'm sure Zephyr will return it at some point. No need to rush."
Minerva sighed but didn't pursue the matter further. Instead, she fixed Harry with a stern look. "Harry, you left a huge mess behind. You need to sort it before it gets out of hand."
"Right, I almost forgot about McLaggen. Is he still here? Give me five minutes to get rid—"
"I'm not talking about McLaggen," Minerva interrupted. "Although I suppose it's related. I expelled McLaggen and his friends, who were involved with the attack. Tiberius wasn't happy about it, but he couldn't do much without Kingsley's support."
"Right, I bet the Minister did a runner when the hit-wizards arrived."
"Couldn't floo out of here fast enough," Minerva confirmed. "But it's not over. Kingsley and Tiberius have returned to the Ministry. I bet they'll get some of their courage back. I expect them to retaliate against both you and me for what went down today."
"I would be disappointed if they didn't try something. Surprised, at least." Harry smiled. “But I feel more secure now the ICW is back on my side."
Charlie leaned forward. "Did you get your suspension lifted?"
"Not yet, but the Supreme Mugwump promised he would as soon as he was less busy."
“His support would go a long way in preventing the Ministry from pestering you,” Bill said.
Harry snorted. "I don't know. They have proven to be consistently stupid. I thought Kingsley was alright. What is it about the Minister role that turns people into bloody idiots?"
"To be fair,” Arthur said. “Fudge was already an idiot before taking up the role."
George laughed at his father's deadpan delivery.
Andromeda frowned. "The job isn't easy. I bet Kingsley is under a lot of pressure from all sides, so making the right decision isn't straightforward."
"We need a leader who is prepared to do the right thing," Minerva said. "Never the easy thing."
Harry snorted. "It's a difficult principle to follow. Dumbledore preached the same thing, but he couldn't always meet that ideal himself."
"Arthur is different,” Molly insisted. “He would always do the right thing."
Arthur looked startled by his wife's declaration. "What nonsense are you spouting, dear?"
"You're not wrong, Molly," Andromeda said, studying Arthur with appraising eyes. "And he would receive massive support from the Wizengamot, aside from the traditionalists."
Bill nodded. "Andromeda's right. Aside from Harry himself, the Weasley family are probably the most popular in Britain at the moment."
"Arthur would win in a heartbeat,” Fleur said. “But first, we need to get rid of Kingsley."
"A vote of no confidence," Andromeda suggested.
Harry looked up sharply. "Would such a thing work?"
"People are angry, Harry," Andromeda said. "Already, the Ministry is being bombarded by Howlers, demanding the Ministers' and Tiberius' heads. As soon as you left here, the students wrote home to their parents, explaining everything that happened. It's not something they can hide from. They'll have to deal with it eventually."
Arthur held up both hands in protest. "Hang on. Don't I get a say in this?"
"I know it's a huge change, Arthur,” Molly said, “but you'll be perfect for the job. Some people may see you as a pushover, but you never back down on the things that truly matter."
Percy straightened in his chair. "I'll help father. If there is one thing I learned from working in the Ministry, it's how it should not be run."
"We need to move quickly, before the Minister tries anything," Andromeda said.
Harry got to his feet, carefully transferring Teddy back to Andromeda's waiting arms. "Well, you can do this without me. I'm tired, and I want to see my girls."
Andromeda caught his arm as he moved toward the vanished window. "We'll need you there, Harry. Your presence in the Wizengamot is going to guarantee the motion of no confidence will pass."
Harry groaned. "Alright. Tell me when it’s happening."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Harry closed the Potter grimoire and leaned back in his seat, watching as Daphne conversed with Astoria, Ayano and Tracy. The four girls had claimed the largest bed in the Hospital Wing, sitting cross-legged whilst they caught up on everything that had happened.
Tracy had returned from St Mungo's that morning, still looking a little battered but considerably happier after seeing her friend. Her parents had been reluctant to let her return to Hogwarts, but now that Harry was here and the bullies were expelled, they'd felt reassured enough to allow it. She'd barely left Daphne's side since arriving, as if afraid her friend might disappear again.
The scrying spell Harry had discovered in the Potter grimoire offered hope for tracking down Gaia. Unlike most scrying magic, it didn't require any physical component from the target. Instead, the caster needed to have encountered the entity before, possessing clear memories of it and having realised its true nature. Whatever that meant. The description remained frustratingly vague, but fortunately, he had Night, who could provide that crucial element.
The real challenge lay in the spell's complexity. It required him to practice more in merging his two powers—magical and spiritual energy working in perfect harmony. He'd brought Alexander's portrait from Grimmauld Place specifically for guidance on developing these abilities. The portrait’s insights had proven invaluable. Although Alexander couldn’t recall his fight against Gaia, he still had decades of experience as a Mage to pull from.
Harry had remained at Hogwarts for the past two days, splitting his time between visiting Daphne, spending time with Ayano and his friends, and intensive training sessions. During the day, he'd practised basic exercises in the Room of Requirement. At night, when everyone was asleep, Harry would slip into the void to continue working with Night on merging his powers.
The void always provided a false sense of progression. Everything seemed easier there—the energies flowed more naturally, and responded more readily to his will. His fight against the ICW hit-wizards showed how much he had progressed in a short time. The wandless casting he used during that battle, where the hit-wizards couldn’t match the speed of his spells once he got into a rhythm, was clear proof.
The emergency Wizengamot session was set for tomorrow. Andromeda had worked tirelessly over the past two days, rallying supporters with help from her sister, Narcissa. Kingsley had been too harassed by the public outcry to attempt anything particularly nefarious, though reports suggested he was growing increasingly desperate as support eroded around him.
"Right, Harry?" Daphne's voice cut through his contemplation.
Harry was broken out of his thoughts, looking up to find four pairs of eyes fixed on him expectantly. "About what?"
Daphne's expression shifted to mild exasperation. "Are you even listening?"
"Yes, but I was distracted by the four beauties sitting on the bed," Harry said with a wink. "You girls should come with a warning label."
Tracy grinned. "I'm surprised you can speak so glibly, Harry. It's a far change from the intimidating eye change and the 'I will fuck you over' face."
Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. "Do I really have that expression?"
"Uh-huh," Daphne said. "It's incredibly sexy."
Astoria wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You're weird, Daphne."
Before Daphne could respond, the Hospital Wing doors burst open with enough force to rattle the hinges. Iggy streamed in, followed by the rest of the Tornadoes team.
"Harry!" Iggy bellowed, his face split by an enormous grin. "Your suspension is over! You can rejoin the team!"
Harry nodded. "Great. I hear you've been having a hard time without me."
Marcus pointed an accusing finger at Harry whilst trying to look stern. "Harry, you traitor. How could you play a game of Quadpot for the Americans? That game is weird."
"And Quidditch isn't?" Tracy asked.
The entire team shouted in unison, "No!"
Their indignant response sent the girls into fits of laughter.
"Alright, settle down," Iggy said. "We've got serious business to discuss. The season's not over yet, and we've got ground to make up."
Harry felt some of his recent tension ease. The team's enthusiasm was infectious, reminding him why he'd chosen to play professional Quidditch in the first place. These people had become more than teammates over the past months.
"When's our next match?" Harry asked.
"Saturday against the Montrose Magpies," Iggy replied. "Perfect opportunity to show everyone we're back in form. The Magpies have been talking trash about us in the Prophet, saying we were only good because of you."
Marcus cracked his knuckles. "Time to prove them wrong."
"The Wizengamot session is in the morning," Harry said. "I should be free by early afternoon."
"Perfect," Iggy clapped his hands together. "Right then, team meeting tomorrow at two o'clock. Don't be late, Potter—we've got a championship to win."
So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry returns to playing Quidditch and starts looking for Gaia.
Thanks for reading.
