20th June 1994
The Great Hall
The end-of-year feast at Hogwarts was always something special — the perfect mix of chaos, nostalgia, and way too much sugar. The enchanted ceiling glowed with soft twilight hues, streaks of rose and gold painting the air above us. The scent of roast chicken, Yorkshire pudding, and treacle tart filled the hall, while the tables shimmered under mountains of food that refilled themselves with impeccable timing.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Neville, Ginny, and Rachel were halfway through their second servings. Neville was in full bliss mode over a steak-and-kidney pie, while Ginny and Rachel were locked in what could only be described as a diplomatic war over Quidditch.
"Brazil's taking it this year," Rachel declared confidently, arms folded like a seasoned sports pundit.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Please. Ireland's got the best Chaser lineup in decades."
Harry swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes and said, "Still not beating Krum. The bloke flies like he's got rockets for legs."
Neville nodded solemnly. "As long as no Bludger finds his face, yeah."
At the Slytherin table, Daphne and Tracey were locked in heated discussion about dessert hierarchy — treacle tart vs. chocolate mousse — while Astoria was quietly demolishing a strawberry trifle nearly bigger than her head.
Meanwhile, at Ravenclaw, the atmosphere was calm but buzzing in its own way. Hermione was deep into what sounded suspiciously like a PowerPoint-free travel lecture.
"We'll be in the Alps," she said excitedly. "Snow as far as the eye can see. And there's this café at the base of the slope that serves the most divine hot chocolate. I'll bring some back for everyone!"
Luna smiled dreamily. "That sounds lovely. Daddy and I are going camping near Ottery St. Catchpole. We're going to look for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."
I smiled, taking a sip of orange juice from my goblet. "I wish you success on your noble quest, Luna," I said, nodding gravely.
Hermione turned to me, that classic look of curiosity already forming. "You still haven't told us about your vacation plans."
I shrugged casually. "That's because I don't have any. I told you, I'll be quite busy until the Quidditch final, I think."
"Yes, you said that," she said, leaning forward. "But you conveniently forgot to mention why you'd be busy." Her eyebrow rose in that dangerously sharp way of hers. "That usually means you're up to something."
I smiled. "That's what I like about you, Hermione. You know me so well."
She gave a soft hmph. "Oh please. By now, we all know that every time you act all sneaky, you're about to drop some major bombshell and shatter our worldview into a million pieces."
I chuckled. "That's an awfully dramatic way to describe innovation."
Before she could retort, Dumbledore stood up. The sound of hundreds of conversations fading at once was almost musical.
He looked particularly radiant that evening — robes like midnight sky embroidered with silver stars, his spectacles glinting in the candlelight. When he smiled, the room seemed to warm a few degrees.
"Another year comes to an end," he began, his voice carrying easily through the enchanted hall. "You have studied, learned, occasionally exploded things — most of them intentionally, I hope — and, to my knowledge, no one has turned into a flobberworm. Progress, I'd say."
Laughter rolled across the tables. Even McGonagall's mouth twitched behind her goblet.
Dumbledore continued, "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for — the final House Cup results!"
Excited murmurs spread like wildfire.
"In fourth place — Hufflepuff, with three hundred and twelve points!"
The Hufflepuffs applauded gamely, though a few made half-hearted booing noises for fun.
"In third — Slytherin, with three hundred and seventy-six points!"
The Slytherins clapped politely, though Draco muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "biased referees."
"In second place — Ravenclaw, with four hundred and ten points!"
Our table cheered. Hermione clapped neatly, Luna smiled serenely, and I tapped my goblet against the table in satisfaction.
"And in first place…" Dumbledore paused dramatically. "…Gryffindor! With four hundred and seventeen points!"
The Gryffindor table erupted. Fred and George launched scarlet fireworks that spelled LIONS RULE across the ceiling before McGonagall shot them a look so cold it could freeze hellfire.
Dumbledore chuckled, letting the uproar settle before raising a hand. "Before you all waddle off to bed in your sugar-induced stupors," he said, eyes twinkling, "we have one final surprise this evening. Mr. Benjamin Carter has something to share with us."
I could feel the collective shift in attention.
"Bet it's another one of his animation films," Seamus whispered audibly.
"I hope it's Kung Fu Panda 2," said Ron.
"No, he should play How to Train Your Dragon 2!" Dean shot back.
Fighting a grin, I rose from my seat and made my way to the dias. When I reached the staff table, I gave Dumbledore a nod.
"Good evening, everyone," I began, turning to face the hall. "I'm not sure if any of you noticed it, but I was absent from Hogwarts for most of this school year."
That got a few chuckles — and a lot of curious faces.
"I should probably clear a few things up," I continued. "No, I wasn't kidnapped by Unspeakables or recruited to the Department of Mysteries. And no, I didn't go hunting for Atlantis or join a secret dragon-riding league."
That earned a few laughs, especially from the Gryffindor table.
"The truth is," I said, "I was away on a research trip — to another continent. Important work, fascinating work, but being away so long made me realize how much I missed my friends and family. It also made me realize how limited our magical communication really is. Owl post is charming, but slow. Floo calls are messy and restricted. So, I decided to fix that."
The murmurs started again — curious, excited.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the result of months of experimental enchantments and delicate runework — a sleek, slim device of black glass rimmed in enchanted silver. It shimmered faintly, the light from the candles dancing over it like it was alive.
"I present to you - the Wiphone," I said, holding it up. "Short for Witch or Wizard Phone."
Gasps, chatter, and a few skeptical looks rippled across the hall.
"This device," I explained, "lets you talk to anyone else who has one — instantly, from anywhere in the world. You can communicate through voice or even face-to-face. It has tiny, powerful cameras here and here," I turned it to show both sides, "which can record and store images and moving pictures — videos. And you can even send them to others who have one."
That did it. The room buzzed with excited disbelief. Even a few professors leaned forward, intrigued.
I looked toward Dumbledore for permission. He nodded, smiling that slow, knowing smile.
"To show you what this device can really do — and to celebrate the end of another year — I thought I'd share something special," I said, and flicked my wrist.
My silver projector floated out from my storage ring and hovered gently in the center of the hall. The candles dimmed, their flames bowing low until the room was wrapped in soft shadow.
A curtain of golden light shimmered into being over the great double doors at the far end.
For a heartbeat, the hall held its breath.
Then the glowing letters appeared — bold, radiant, alive.
ZOOTOPIA.
"Zoo—what?" Ron muttered.
The screen came to life — a dusty savanna, a little bunny drinking peacefully from a waterhole. The entire hall watched, entranced. Suddenly, a tiger pounced from the bushes, teeth bared — and the students gasped in unison. Then, the tiger froze midair, stiff as a statue, and the background tore away like paper.
Everyone blinked.
It was a play. A school play.
Children — or rather, young animals — performing on stage, each one dressed in handmade costumes. Rabbits, jaguars, sheep — all walking upright, talking, gesturing.
"Animals?" Seamus spluttered. "Wearing clothes?" He leaned toward Dean, incredulous. "What's next — a toad running for Minister?"
Young Judy Hopps: Ahh! [she draws out long, red ribbons from her costume] Blood, blood, blood! [Judy falls on her back, making choking noises. She reaches for a hidden ketchup bottle and, while still laying on her back, places it upright under her arm and squeezes its contents all over her body while pretending to convulse.] And... death!
The students burst into laughter. Ginny clapped her hands, squealing, "She's adorable!"
Even Professor Sprout and Slughorn joined in, applauding good-naturedly. Across the hall, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as if he'd just witnessed something both ridiculous and deeply profound.
When young Judy stood and proclaimed, "Anyone can be anything!" with all the flair of an actress born for the stage, the Great Hall erupted into cheers.
In the next scene, Judy confronted Gideon Grey, a fox twice her size. He mocked her, shoved her down, and slashed her cheek with his claws. Several students gasped, but before anyone could speak, Judy got up again.
Young Judy Hopps: Well, he was right about one thing: [Judy picks up her officer hat off the ground and puts it back on, as determination spreads rapidly across her face.] I don't know when to quit!
"Definitely a Gryffindor," Fred and George muttered in unison.
Fifteen years later. Judy was no longer small or timid — she was training at the Police Academy. The hall watched her struggle: too small to climb walls, too slow in snow drills, flung out of obstacle courses again and again. But each time, she got back up.
When Judy finally graduated as valedictorian, the Great Hall broke into applause that rivalled a Quidditch victory.
Then came the song.
As Judy boarded the train, the upbeat tune "Try Everything" filled the hall.
I messed up tonight, I lost another fight
Lost to myself, but I'll just start again
I keep falling down, I keep on hitting the ground
I always get up now to see what's next
The melody caught quickly. Luna swayed gently in her seat, smiling dreamily. Even Dumbledore began tapping his fingers along the table.
Hermione leaned close and whispered, "I like this song. It's… hopeful."
I smiled and gently took her hand. By the second chorus, half the hall was humming under their breath.
When the train reached the glittering city of Zootopia, the air in the hall shifted. The camera swept across gleaming skyscrapers, snow-covered district of Tundratown, the desert landscape of Sahara Square, and the waterfalls of the Rainforest district— a living mosaic of different habitats.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
"Merlin's beard…" Hagrid whispered, his voice trembling with awe. "It's beautiful."
Flitwick was scribbling something furiously, muttering about "runic climate stabilization."
Judy's first day as a real police officer began with her suiting up proudly — only for Chief Bogo to assign her to parking duty. The hall groaned collectively.
"Typical bureaucracy," Hermione muttered, crossing her arms.
The following montage — Judy speeding through the city writing tickets to upbeat music — drew laughter from every corner.
"She's ruthless!" Daphne said approvingly.
"Filch would love her," Tracey quipped.
Then came Nick Wilde.
The sly fox walked onscreen, smooth as polished glass, hustling a hulking elephant for "pawpsicles."
"That fox is trouble," McGonagall said flatly.
Hagrid chuckled. "Reminds me o' Sirius, that one."
When Nick conned Judy into helping him with his scheme, the laughter was uncontrollable.
"Smooth," Fred said.
"Teach me that trick!" George added.
But when Judy realized she'd been tricked — the music softening as she stood in the street, staring at the melting popsicle — the hall quieted.
Nick Wilde: All right, look, everyone comes to Zootopia thinking they can be anything they want. Well, you can't. You can only be what you are. [points to himself] Sly fox, [points to Judy] dumb bunny.
Judy Hopps: I am not a dumb bunny. [She sinks a bit and there is a soft squelch as she sinks to her knees]
Nick Wilde: Right. [points down] And that's not wet cement. [Judy is seen up to her knees in cement; Three construction beavers take notice and glare at her. Nick walks off as Judy struggles to break loose] You'll never be a real cop. You're a cute meter maid, though. Maybe a supervisor one day. Hang in there! [Nick turns a corner, leaving Judy upset.]
Hermione's brow furrowed. "She's too good for that world."
Then came the turning point.
Judy caught her first real case — the missing otter, Emmitt Otterton. But first, she needed some help.
The hall leaned forward, excitement rippling through the air.
When Judy cornered Nick for tax evasion and used his own words against him, the laughter and applause nearly drowned out the dialogue.
Judy Hopps: Actually, it's your word against yours. And if you want this pen, you're going to help me find this poor missing otter, or the only place you'll be selling pawpsicles is the prison cafeteria. [grins] It's called a hustle, sweetheart. [Nick shows a stunned look]
"Brilliant!" Hermione cried. "She outfoxed the fox!"
With Nick's help, Judy finds out that Otterton was last seen entering a limo, and Judy and Nick go to the DMV to run the plates. When the sloth at the counter turned to Judy in painful slow motion and said, "What… can I… do… for you… today?" the Great Hall exploded with laughter.
Fred and George had tears streaming down their faces.
"This—this is every Ministry clerk ever!" George gasped.
Dumbledore's shoulders shook silently, eyes gleaming with mirth.
Even Moody muttered, "Accurate," under his breath.
While investigating the limo, Judy and Nick were captured by polar bears and taken to Tundratown, where they met Mr. Big—a tiny, impeccably dressed arctic shrew. The students shrieked with laughter.
"That's… that's the mob boss?" Dean wheezed.
"I like him," Astoria said seriously. "He's got style."
When Mr. Big dramatically declared, "Ice them!" and then melted into cooing over his daughter's wedding, Luna sighed, "Such a good father."
Mr. Big explains that Emmitt Otterton unexpectedly "went savage" and mindlessly attacked the limousine's chauffeur Renato Manchas, a black jaguar. Judy and Nick go to the Rainforest district and talk to Manchas. But suddenly Manchas also turns savage and starts chasing them.
Judy traps Manchas and alerts the ZPD, but Manchas vanishes before backup arrives. Bogo demands Judy's resignation, but Nick defends Judy and reminds Bogo that Judy still has ten hours left to solve the case. He then reveals to Judy that as a child, he was bullied by his peers due to their prejudiced beliefs about foxes.
As the flashback unfolded—young Nick, proud in his Junior Ranger uniform, being humiliated by bullies—silence fell.
Nick Wilde: [narrating] I learned two things that day. [the flashback ends and we return the present] One - I was never gonna let anyone see that they got to me.
Judy Hopps: And two?
Nick Wilde: If the world's only gonna see a fox as shifty and untrustworthy, there's no point in trying to be anything else.
The Slytherin table, usually smug, was quiet. Draco frowned. Blaise looked down. Several students of other houses looked uncomfortable.
Neville murmured, "Now I get him."
When Bellwether appeared — the cute, slightly awkward assistant mayor — the Hufflepuffs brightened visibly.
"She's adorable!" said Hannah Abbott.
"She's one of us," Ernie said proudly. "Kind, loyal, hardworking!"
"There's something fishy about her. Mark my words," muttered Moody, "no one's that nice."
Judy and Nick reach Cliffside Asylum where they find all the missing mammals, now apparently gone savage, locked in cells.
Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "Some kind of psychotropic drug, perhaps?"
Judy calls the ZPD, who arrest Mayor Lionheart and the Asylum staff. The students smiled when Judy invited Nick to join the ZPD as her partner. But then, at the press conference, Judy accidentally implies that the predators' physiology might be causing the savageness epidemic. The hall fell silent.
Nick's expression of hurt as he turned and walked away drew a heavy sigh from the hall.
Judy's comment incites fear and discrimination against predators throughout Zootopia. Wracked with guilt, Judy quits her job and returns to Bunnyburrow.
Later, while managing her parents' vegetable stand, Judy learns that Night Howlers are actually Midnicampum flowers, which have severe, lasting psychotropic effects if ingested. Realizing that someone is using the flowers to turn predators savage, she returns to Zootopia and finds Nick.
The apology scene — Judy's trembling voice, Nick's silent hurt, the paw-holding — drew soft sniffles from more than one table. Hermione subtly dabbed at her eyes. McGonagall, pretending not to, smiled faintly.
With Mr. Big's help, Judy and Nick interrogated Weaselton and discovered the ram scientist, Doug, creating a serum from the Night Howlers to use against predators via a tranquilizer dart. Judy and Nick obtain a serum pistol as evidence. The chase through the subway drew cheers, laughter, and gasps in equal measure.
But then came the twist.
Bellwether — the sweet, woolly Hufflepuff of the group — turned, eyes sharp behind her glasses, gun in hand.
"Fear always works," she hissed.
The entire hall gasped.
"She did not just do that!" shrieked Lavender.
Fred clutched his chest. "Evil Hufflepuff alert!"
The Hufflepuffs groaned. "We trusted you!" wailed Ernie.
When Judy's carrot pen replayed Bellwether's confession, the cheers nearly shook the ceiling.
Luna clapped softly. Rachel pumped her fist. Hermione whispered, "You go, girl."
The final montage rolled.
The predators were cured and rehabilitated, and Judy was reinstated into the ZPD. Nine months later, Nick graduated from the police academy, becoming Judy's partner and the first fox police officer.
Zootopia's city skyline glowed as Judy's voice echoed softly through the Great Hall: "Change starts with you."
As the music swelled — Try Everything once again — the screen faded to gold.
For one long heartbeat, no one spoke. Then the Great Hall exploded into thunderous applause.
"That was brilliant!" cried Terry Boot.
"I want a Zootopia sequel!" yelled Lee Jordan.
"I want that bunny on the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" laughed Fred.
Even the professors applauded. Flitwick was practically bouncing. "What remarkable storytelling!"
McGonagall leaned toward Dumbledore. "I must admit, Albus… that was inspiring."
Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling brighter than ever. "Indeed, Minerva. Perhaps our world has a few lessons to learn from theirs."
As the final notes of Try Everything faded away, the golden light from the projection dissolved into the air, and the candles flared back to life one by one. The Great Hall brightened until every enchanted flame floated high again, bathing the room in warm light and gleaming reflections off silver goblets.
I smiled, lowering my wand. "Well…" I said, my voice carrying easily through the murmuring crowd, "I hope you all enjoyed the movie as much as I did."
"Enjoyed it?" Fred Weasley shouted, standing on the bench. "Mate, that was brilliant!"
"Just like Kung Fu Panda and How to Train Your Dragon!" George added.
"Yeah!" Terry Boot piped up eagerly. "When can we get our hands on those Wiphone things Judy was using?"
A mischievous grin tugged at my lips. "Right now, in fact."
The hall erupted in gasps and cheers.
"There are about two hundred and eighty students in Hogwarts right now," I said over the noise. "And including the teaching and non-teaching staff, that brings us to two hundred and ninety-seven." I paused, enjoying the growing anticipation. "And I happen to have a Wiphone for each and every one of you."
The explosion of sound that followed nearly blew the roof off. Students cheered, pounded their tables, and even a few professors exchanged curious looks.
Ron raised his hand, half shouting, "How much does it cost?"
The cheers dimmed as reality dawned on them. Every student suddenly looked like they were calculating their Gringotts balance and losing hope fast.
I chuckled. "Don't worry — it's not going to cost you anything."
That earned a few disbelieving laughs.
"No, really," I continued, raising my hands. "You don't owe me a single knut for one of these." I waved the sleek black device in my hand with mock flourish. "You can all thank your lucky stars for being schoolmates with Benjamin Carter."
That set off a wave of laughter and applause.
I waited for it to subside, then continued, "However, I will ask one small favor. When you go home tomorrow, show off your Wiphones to your families, friends and acquaintances. If they're interested—and I'd wager most will be—you can tell them that the official Wiphone store will open in Diagon Alley next month."
That announcement brought another eruption of cheers. Someone in Gryffindor shouted, "We're going to be famous!"
I raised my hand again, and gradually the hall quieted. My tone shifted slightly, serious now. "There's one thing you should understand, though. The Wiphone and everything in it are the result of proprietary magitechnology — a combination of enchanted materials, experimental charms, and runic architecture that took months to perfect. It's powerful, yes, but delicate."
Students leaned in, listening.
"So," I said, "if anyone gets the bright idea to pry one open or peek under the casing, they'll find themselves holding a handful of ash. There are self-destruct runes built inside the device — they'll activate instantly if tampered with."
The hall went dead silent. A few wide eyes darted around.
Then Seamus muttered, "Blimey. Note to self: don't try to 'improve' it."
I smiled. "Wise choice."
"Now," I said, clapping my hands lightly, "let me show you how it works. Hermione, would you be kind enough to assist me?"
Hermione, seated beside Luna at the Ravenclaw table, froze mid-sip of orange juice. Her cheeks turned pink as the entire hall's attention shifted toward her.
She sighed and stood, brushing imaginary dust off her robes. Fred and George immediately started wolf-whistling. Hermione quickened her pace, trying not to smile.
"Thank you, Miss Granger," I said warmly as she joined me in front of the staff table.
She shot me a mild glare that only made me grin more.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out another Wiphone — hers. It had a soft cream-colored back cover, decorated with moving cat emojis that blinked and pawed at the edges.
"For you," I said, offering it to her.
She blinked in surprise, taking it gingerly. "It's… adorable," she admitted, smiling despite herself.
"You're welcome," I said. "Now, let's link it to you."
I switched on the device, and the screen came alive with a swirl of light and soft chime. I held it up to her face, and the front camera shimmered with runic recognition patterns.
A moment later, the words 'Owner Registered: Hermione Granger' appeared.
"There," I said, handing it back to her. "It's bound to you now. Only your face will unlock it. No one else can open it or view its contents."
The crowd murmured with awe.
"Now," I said, holding up my own device beside hers, "hold them like this." I pressed the two screens together. After three seconds, a clear ding sounded.
I pulled my Wiphone back and showed it to the hall. "See? Contact added." On the screen, a small picture of Hermione appeared beside her name.
"All you need to do is hold your phones together for three seconds to add someone to your contacts. Then you can call, send messages, or share pictures and videos."
Daphne raised her hand. "How many people can we add?"
"Good question," I said. "The upper limit is one hundred contacts. It's not infinite — but for new technology, that's plenty."
There were approving nods all around.
"Now," I said, clapping my hands once, "I'm confident you'll all figure out the rest on your own. So, without further ado…" I grinned. "Let the gift-giving begin!"
The hall erupted in cheers.
From my storage ring, I summoned a large chest and set it down with a soft thud. Inside, neat rows of gleaming new Wiphones shimmered in the candlelight, each with a unique rune-coded color.
I started with the professors.
Dumbledore received his first — a midnight-blue device with shifting constellations glowing softly across the back. His eyes twinkled brighter than ever.
"A delightful bit of magic, Benjamin," he said, smiling.
McGonagall's Wiphone had a silver tartan design. She gave me one of her rare smiles as she accepted it. "Practical and tasteful. Very well done."
Flitwick nearly squeaked with delight when I handed him his — a bronze one with floating runic formulas drifting lazily across the surface.
Sprout's had blooming vines.
Slughorn's shimmered in Slytherin green and gold.
Sinistra's glowed faintly like starlight.
Even Trelawney seemed entranced, muttering something about "visions in the glass."
One by one, I moved down the line — Moody, Hooch, Kettleburn, Babbling, Vector, Burbage — each accepted theirs with fascination.
When I reached Irma Pince and Madam Pomfrey, they both looked politely stunned.
"Don't worry," I said lightly to Pince. "It has a lock function for restricted content. No students will be reading anything inappropriate through it."
Her expression softened — barely.
Then came Hagrid. His Wiphone had a back cover with a moving dragon breathing gentle plumes of fire. His face split into a massive grin.
"Blimey, Ben!" he roared, hugging me so hard I thought my spine would snap. "Best gadget I ever got!"
I wheezed, "Glad you like it, Hagrid…"
And then — Filch.
The hall watched, curious, as I approached the caretaker with his Wiphone. His eyes were wide, suspicious.
"You're giving me one?" he asked quietly.
"Of course," I said. "You may not be a professor, and maybe you don't hear it enough, but to me, you're as much a part of Hogwarts as anyone here."
Filch froze. His throat worked silently, and for a second, I thought he might actually cry. He nodded once, took the phone with trembling hands, and walked away without a word.
Then came the students — an excited blur of laughter and magic.
One by one, I registered each device, linking it to its new owner. Every few seconds came the familiar ding of contact confirmation, echoing like little bells through the hall.
By the time I finished, over an hour later, the Great Hall was buzzing like a hive — flashes of light as pictures were taken, soft melodies as students tested their ringtones, laughter as they added each other to their contact lists.
Even the professors were comparing devices like curious first-years.
Dumbledore rose, his midnight-blue Wiphone glowing faintly in his palm. "Thank you, Mr. Carter," he said, his voice warm and proud. "Tonight has been extraordinary — thanks to you."
I inclined my head. "My pleasure, sir."
He turned to the students, raising his hands. "Now then — off to bed, everyone! Dream of better worlds, and perhaps you'll help build them!"
As the hall emptied, the sound of chatter and camera flashes echoed off the stone walls. Students snapped pictures of the enchanted ceiling, their friends, even the staff.
Hermione lingered beside me as the last few left. She looked up, smiling. "What is it with you and breaking expectations?"
I shrugged, grinning. "Why, Miss Granger, I thought you liked that about me."
She laughed softly. "Maybe I do."
We shared a quiet chuckle, walking side by side out of the Great Hall.
And as the door swung shut behind us, the soft glow of hundreds of Wiphones shimmered through the fading light — tiny constellations of magic and invention, lighting the way toward a new kind of world.
---
21st June 1994
Hogsmeade Station
"Care to tell me why you're staying in the castle when the rest of us are going home for the holidays?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips, her brow creased in that familiar mix of worry and mild exasperation.
We stood on the platform at Hogsmeade Station. The Hogwarts Express loomed beside us, steam hissing gently into the summer air, its scarlet frame gleaming beneath the sun. Students hurried about, trunks clattering, owls hooting, laughter and chatter mixing with the rhythmic chug of the train's idling engine.
All around us, students were glued to their new Wiphones, excitedly snapping photos of friends, recording videos, or waving them around like badges of honor. I had already said my goodbyes to Harry, Neville, Luna, Ginny, and Rachel. Only Hermione remained.
I smiled at her gently. "It's not like I plan to spend my entire summer vacation at Hogwarts," I said. "I'll only be here for a few days before heading home."
She narrowed her eyes. "But you won't tell me what you'll be doing in those few days, will you?"
I met her gaze, stepped closer, and took her hands in mine. Her fingers were cold from the mountain breeze, but they tightened around mine anyway.
"I know you're worried about me," I said softly.
She opened her mouth to reply, but I pressed a finger to her lips — gently, but firmly enough to make her pause.
"That's alright," I continued. "I worry about you too. All the time."
Her expression softened, and I slowly lowered my hand.
"I've known you for three short years, Hermione Granger," I said quietly. "And in that time, I've found you to be a remarkable young woman. There's a fire inside you — one that wants to make the world a better place. You're brilliant, brave, sometimes a bit unpredictable — but that's part of your magic. I would love to spend decades, centuries even, getting to know you better."
Her lips parted in a small, emotional smile.
"But," I added, "you should know that I have responsibilities — ones I chose for myself. I want to make things better too. Not just for this world."
Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't speak.
"And I'd love nothing more than to have you by my side while I do that," I said. "But sometimes, there'll be things I have to face alone. Not everything, and not all the time. But sometimes." I squeezed her hands gently. "When that happens, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
Hermione looked up at me, eyes glistening with that fierce mix of affection and frustration only she could manage. She sighed, her breath trembling slightly before she nodded.
"Of course, I trust you, Ben," she said softly. "More than anyone else. But I can't help worrying. It's who I am." She swallowed. "I just… I worry that something will happen to you. That I'll lose the best thing that ever happened to me."
My chest tightened at her words. I smiled faintly and lifted her hands, pressing a gentle kiss to them.
"Don't you worry, princess," I murmured. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise." I gave her a playful grin. "I'll be waiting for you when you get back from the Alps. And you'd better bring me some of that famous hot chocolate you mentioned."
That earned me a soft laugh — musical, genuine.
Before I could say anything else, she reached up and kissed me — warm, fierce, and brief.
The station erupted in cheers and wolf-whistles from the train windows. Hermione flushed scarlet, pulling away just as the final whistle sounded.
"See you soon," she said, smiling through her blush.
"Count on it," I said softly.
She turned and hurried to the train, Crookshanks tucked under one arm. As she climbed aboard, I caught sight of Harry, Neville, Luna, Rachel, and Ginny at the windows, waving enthusiastically. I waved back as the train gave a great hiss and began to move.
The wheels clattered, steam billowed, and within moments the scarlet engine was pulling away, curving around the bend until it disappeared into the hills.
The platform grew still again. Only the faint echo of the train lingered in the distance.
I stood there for a moment, breathing in the silence — the calm before something much larger. Then I turned away from the empty station and walked toward a quiet corner behind the ticket office.
With a wave of my hand, the fabric of space rippled — and with a shimmer of golden light, a portal opened before me. Stepping through, I emerged on the seventh floor of Hogwarts, directly across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach ballet to trolls.
The castle was silent now, emptied of laughter and noise. My footsteps echoed faintly against the stone. I walked past the blank stretch of wall three times, focusing my intent.
A door appeared.
When I stepped through it, the Room of Requirement unfolded before me — but not as I had ever seen it.
It was enormous, cavernous — far larger than the Great Hall. Runes pulsed faintly across the walls, like veins of living light, illuminating the room in a dim, golden hue. At the very center stood a massive altar of obsidian, its surface etched with concentric circles of glowing sigils.
And on that altar lay Smaug's colossal body. The dragon's scales gleamed like burnished gold now, every trace of the darkness that Morgoth's corruption had left within it gone.
I approached the altar slowly.
I had long known my greatest limitation wasn't knowledge — it was power. I wasn't weak, far from it. For my age, I was perhaps the strongest mage alive. But my body was still young, still growing. It couldn't yet hold the immense energy I needed for what lay ahead.
I couldn't afford to wait for time.
So, I had found another way.
A spell buried deep within the Grimoire — an ancient compound spell of Metamorphosis and Evolution magic: Draconic Bloodline Evolution.
A spell that required a dragon's corpse.
According to the Grimoire, the ritual fused a dragon's genetic and magical essence with the caster's body — granting draconic strength, endurance, vast magical capacity, a vastly lengthened lifespan… and even the ultimate gift: Draconification — the ability to take dragon form at will.
And Smaug — Smaug was the pinnacle of dragonkind. The potential benefits were staggering.
But there was a catch.
A normal human body couldn't endure the sheer power within a dragon. The fusion would rip it apart, cell by cell, before completion. Only someone with a miraculous regenerative reagent could survive.
I glanced down at the vial of unicorn blood in my hand — the silvery-blue liquid shimmering faintly, alive with soft light. A substance that could keep one alive even an inch from death.
I smiled faintly. "That'll do."
Setting the vial aside, I removed my clothes, piece by piece, until I stood bare beneath the runes' glow. The air was cool against my skin, but the magic pulsing through the room made it feel alive.
I stepped into the center of the twelve glowing circles.
Carefully, I uncorked the vial and poured the unicorn blood into the center of the runic pattern. The liquid shimmered, spreading outward, tracing every line of the circle until it glowed a soft blue against the golden light.
I exhaled slowly. "Here goes nothing."
I pressed my palm to the floor.
Magic surged.
The runes flared white-hot — first beneath me, then beneath Smaug's massive form. The twelve circles began to spin, faster and faster, their symbols igniting until the air itself began to hum with a frequency that shook my bones.
Smaug's body began to glow, his form slowly breaking apart — matter turning to pure energy, flowing like molten gold toward the center of the ritual. Toward me.
When the first stream of power struck, it was agony — raw, blinding, consuming agony. Every nerve in my body screamed as the dragon's essence poured into me, reshaping me from the inside out. My vision blurred white, my muscles seared, my bones felt as if they were shattering and reforging in the same instant.
I gasped — then the unicorn blood responded.
Droplets of silvery-blue liquid rose from the glowing circle, drawn by the ritual's pulse, and seeped into my skin. Instantly, the agony dulled. The pain melted into warmth — unbearable, yet strangely serene.
The energy wrapped around me like a living thing, forming a cocoon of golden light.
My last conscious thought, as the cocoon sealed around me and the world faded into fire and silence, was a simple one — Hermione's face, her worried smile, her laughter echoing faintly in my mind.
I hope I can keep my promise to her.
And then, everything vanished.
Thus began the long fusion.
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[END OF VOLUME THREE]