The Constellation summons its lord; the dragons call for their king.
Countless stars blazed across the sky as firelight struck the firmament.
Golden runes flowed through the sky.
The Gurg, the giant, was engulfed in flames.
The terrifying inferno melted his golden helmet, molten gold spilling down to cover his face.
Sharp dragon claws tore his body apart, blood spraying outward.
"Roar—!"
The golden dragon threw back its head and roared.
The entire magical world trembled in response.
The Gurg was dead.
His golden head rolled across the ground.
The golden dragon turned to face the sky filled with dragons.
The once-arrogant fire dragons descended, lowering their heads before their king.
The sight left the teachers and students of Hogwarts utterly shaken.
Grasping the golden head, the dragon flew to the top of a Hogwarts tower.
The golden dragon opened its jaws and spoke.
||Kneel, or die!||
Terrifying dragon pressure poured outward. Seeing their leader slain, the giants panicked and threw down their weapons.
They knelt before the golden dragon.
The golden head was tossed down.
The golden dragon's scales began to shrink.
In moments, it went from eighty feet long to even smaller than the smallest Peruvian Vipertooth.
A young man holding a silver sword raised the blade and issued a command to the dragons.
"Dragons, return to your homeland."
The dragons, heads lowered, flew toward the gate leading into the mountains.
John leapt down from the tower. Just before hitting the ground, his body became as light as a feather.
After landing, he let out a soft laugh. "It seems you all missed me."
The students of Hogwarts stared blankly at John, who had turned from dragon back into human, taking in everything from his entrance to now.
John's forceful return had shattered the mightiest giant legion.
Professor McGonagall murmured in disbelief, "A dragon Animagus?"
As a master of Transfiguration, she had never heard of an Animagus form like that.
Slughorn said with deep relief, "He's back."
From the moment he had John take a leave of absence, Slughorn had been consumed by regret.
He had proven one thing—perhaps he truly wasn't suited to be headmaster.
Everything that had happened over the past year only reaffirmed that belief.
"I think it's time I gave you a new enemy."
John turned to look at the group of wizards and said, "How about a bunch of experienced Aurors?"
He snapped his fingers, and fireplaces all across Hogwarts burst into flame.
In the Headmaster's Office, green fire flared up as Barty Crouch Sr. stepped out of the hearth.
He issued his order. "All Aurors, arrest the criminals who have entered Hogwarts. If necessary, lethal force is authorized."
The Aurors moved out.
They had appeared at Hogwarts for this very moment.
The entire castle became an isolated island—no one could leave.
Any wizard who still tried to attack the students was struck down by the Aurors.
Barty Crouch Sr., dressed in a crisp trench coat, walked out onto the grounds and called out to steady the crowd. "Students of Hogwarts, you did very well!"
"It's the Ministry of Magic!"
"How is that possible?"
"Wasn't Barty Crouch under control?"
"Why?!"
They had thought Barty was firmly under their control, only for the situation to reverse completely.
Some wizards tried to flee, but discovered that all exits were sealed—Apparition was impossible.
Aurors, accompanied by Hit Wizards, escorted students back into the castle while systematically clearing out the intruders who had entered Hogwarts.
Barty Crouch Sr. came to John's side and said, "I brought the werewolf capture units."
The pure-blood werewolf team led by Zofi moved in to apprehend the bloodthirsty werewolves.
This time, werewolves and the Ministry of Magic stood on the same side.
Barty himself joined the arrests. He was a powerful wizard in his own right.
With the Order of the Phoenix and the Hogwarts professors assisting, the tide turned against Voldemort's followers, who had now lost their numerical advantage, and the reckoning began.
John swept his gaze across the battlefield, then froze slightly as he stared at a woman who looked almost exactly like his mother.
Something tapped his head. He looked up to see his father, Watson, standing right there.
"Where did you disappear to? You had all of us worried sick."
Watson had meant to be angry, but after seeing how impressive his son had been just moments ago, he couldn't hide his smile.
John said helplessly, "Alright, alright. Next time I'll definitely tell you."
Watching his uncles fight with ruthless ferocity, John felt as though he had somehow ended up in another world.
Mrs. Wick finished off a dark creature and ran over to pull her son into a tight embrace.
The members of the Constellation Society gathered as well.
"See? I knew he'd be fine," Malfoy said smugly.
There were still fresh wounds on his face from Bellatrix's earlier attack.
Daphne wanted to step closer, yet hesitated.
Fleur, on the other hand, embraced John openly and without reservation.
Percy gave a wry smile. "Voldemort went inside one of the doors. What do we do now?"
John smiled when he heard that. "Isn't that good news?"
He chuckled softly. "This time, we end it for good."
No one in the Constellation Society doubted him. Their faces were filled with excitement.
They had finally reached this point.
The plan that began with the failure at the Ministry of Magic was now on the verge of success.
However, John poured cold water on their enthusiasm—because he intended to go in alone.
"Why?" Malfoy asked, confused.
John shot him a glance. "You're not familiar with what's inside."
"But Neville's in there too, isn't he?" Malfoy protested.
"Then you can wait until Neville comes out and challenge him."
John knew Malfoy's personality all too well.
Just as he was about to step through the door, he saw Bellatrix pressing the Weasley twins into a corner.
The moment John got a clear look at Bellatrix's condition, his pupils contracted.
"So you really went that far, Tom."
"Woof!"
He muttered it to himself, and Tom came running over after hearing him.
John said helplessly, "I wasn't calling you, Tom."
Tom tilted her head, using her limited doggy intellect to contemplate life.
One black owl and one white owl circled in the sky, their sharp talons easily tearing apart flying dark creatures.
Seeing Bellatrix's tireless state, John walked over and drew his wand.
"Turning a person into a great demon of the Night Parade of a Hundred Spirits?"
Recalling the scroll he had once read, a chill entered John's eyes.
He hadn't expected Voldemort to be ruthless enough to do this even to his own followers.
Though it looked like Bellatrix's life had been extended, in truth she was nothing more than a puppet, her strings firmly held in Voldemort's grasp.
The process of becoming part of the Night Parade of a Hundred Spirits was agony.
Forcing a soul back into a body that had already lost all vitality, using vile magic to grant it the power to move.
"Redi, anima errans."
John murmured in an ancient tongue.
Bellatrix, who had still been fighting, suddenly froze. Black smoke then poured out from her body.
"No, no, no!" Bellatrix felt her soul being torn from her body and let out a shrill scream.
A mass of pitch-black soul matter emerged from within her.
John stared at it, then drew the Silver Wick Sword with his other hand.
The burning silver blade flashed, cleaving the dark soul cleanly in two.
After enduring a long existence worse than death, Bellatrix's soul was utterly annihilated.
Her body, now bereft of a soul, began to dissipate.
Malfoy watched the dispersing Bellatrix with complicated emotions. After all, she had been his aunt.
Sirius felt the same. As one of the last remaining members of the Black family bloodline, another had fallen.
After dealing with Bellatrix, John walked up to one of the doors, grasped the handle, and pushed it open.
A labyrinth appeared before him.
John stepped inside, and with a creak, the door behind him slowly closed.
Dumbledore watched John depart with a complicated expression.
This time, John would face Voldemort using his own strength.
…
Harry chased after the silver light, sensing that it was guiding him.
The feeling in his chest grew stronger and stronger.
At the same time, he began to see familiar things scattered throughout the maze.
A shattered, towering wizard chess piece sent his thoughts back to first year.
The maze seemed devoid of living creatures.
At every turn, he encountered another familiar object.
Sometimes it was an armillary sphere, sometimes a Quick-Quotes Quill.
The place felt like a processing ground where an owner had casually tossed in all sorts of items.
Everything appeared here.
Harry even spotted the rear end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt. They had taken care of those creatures for a while, so he knew it all too well.
His footsteps gradually slowed, and he noticed the silver light was slowing as well.
The narrow walls ahead began to give way to a wider space.
Harry tightened his grip on the badge, guessing that the reason he could see the silver light at all was because it was being guided by the badge.
The deeper he went, the more spacious the area became.
After walking for some time more, Harry passed through the maze.
He found himself in a wide, familiar place.
It was the final chamber from first year, the last trial protecting the Philosopher's Stone—the platform at the far end holding a mirror.
And that mirror left a deep impression on Harry.
The Mirror of Erised.
Before he could think any further, an unseen force seized him and dragged him into the air.
A deathly pale, serpentine face appeared right in front of him.
"Hurry," Voldemort commanded in a cold voice. "Take out the Holy Grail."
Just like the final trial of the Philosopher's Stone, Voldemort could see the Holy Grail inside the mirror, yet he was unable to touch it.
Harry looked toward the Mirror of Erised.
The Harry inside the mirror lifted his head and gave him the finger.
"What are you dreaming about? You think this is an open-book exam or something?"
~~~
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