The first attack on Neville occurred four hours after Bellatrix's soul had departed. A Slytherin student cast a Sectumsempra on Neville as he left class. Had the Slytherin's aim been better, Neville would have suffered far worse than a few gashes on his body.
Then came the second attack, this time targeting Harry in the Great Hall. But Harry was quick. The moment a Ravenclaw student unleashed a Diffindo at him, he countered with a swift Protego, and another student found themselves in detention.
Then came the third, fourth, fifth…
After Neville narrowly escaped death when a fifth-year Slytherin aimed an Avada Kedavra at him, after Harry, in a split-second reaction, severed the arm of a sixth-year Slytherin who had tried to hit him and Hermione with a Bombarda, and after the professors repeatedly forbade attacks on fellow students yet someone still tried to kill Neville or Harry, things began spiraling out of control.
In the Hospital Wing, Harry sat across from Neville, who had just been forced to down a vial of antidote by the new nurse, Jenny. The two exchanged silent glances, each sizing the other up.
In just two days, the trio had endured thirteen assassination attempts. Even Harry, with his resilience, felt the crushing weight of it all.
Bellatrix's parting words had turned nearly the entire school into potential enemies for Harry and Neville. To avoid further ambushes, Harry had spent the last two nights in the Room of Requirement, while Neville, freshly recovered from severe poisoning, seemed in slightly better spirits than Harry, whose nerves had been frayed by two days of constant vigilance.
"Harry, got any ideas?" Neville asked, smacking his lips as the bitter aftertaste of the antidote lingered. "At this rate, we might not even make it to Voldemort's appearance before some student takes us out."
"I've got two," Harry said, holding up two fingers and giving them a shake. "First, we lock up—or take out—everyone who might come after us." Neville shook his head frantically at the suggestion. "Second, we go straight to the source and take down her base."
"Just the two of us?" Neville's voice wavered, his head shrinking back slightly. "Isn't that a bit… thin?"
"Not two—three," Hermione declared, striding into the ward with a bag of food, her face etched with determination. "I'm coming with you!"
"No, you—" Harry began.
"Harry!" Hermione cut him off, her tone unyielding. "I've told you before—where you go, I go! Don't even think about leaving me behind to face danger alone!" She waved a hand, silencing him. "Besides, do you really think if you and Neville die at Voldemort's hands, I won't be targeted as your girlfriend? If we're going to face Voldemort eventually, I'd rather die by your side!"
After a long pause, Harry looked up at Hermione. "Fine, you can come. But only if, in the next five days, you master Apparition and learn how to create a Portkey. Otherwise, when we're fighting Voldemort, Neville and I might not be able to protect you…"
"But Neville can't even beat me!" Hermione protested, clearly unimpressed. "Why doesn't he have to master Apparition?"
"Do you honestly think Neville could learn Apparition in five days?" Harry asked dryly.
"Hey!" Neville interjected, indignant. "At least don't insult me to my face!"
The three continued their discussion until Nurse Jenny came to shoo them out.
"Nurse, please, just a little longer with Neville," Harry pleaded, trying to convince the stern new assistant to Madam Pomfrey to let him stay. But she was unmoved, practically shoving Harry and Hermione out and slamming the ward door in Harry's face.
After leaving the Hospital Wing, Harry sought out Professor McGonagall for guidance on Apparition. Then, he summoned Dobby, who whisked them to his home.
The next day, Dobby brought a newly discharged Neville to join them. Hermione, attempting Apparition, accidentally singed off half her eyebrow.
On the third day, Hermione successfully Apparated without Splinting.
On the fourth day, she mastered long-distance Apparition.
On the fifth day, Minerva McGonagall watched with satisfaction as an ecstatic Hermione Apparated around excitedly. "Miss Granger," she said, "honestly, your knowledge and skill in Transfiguration and Charms now surpass most seventh-year students. From a personal standpoint, I'd love to award Gryffindor twenty points for your outstanding performance. Unfortunately, we're not at Hogwarts."
Dobby took Professor McGonagall back to Hogwarts, and after a brief discussion, Harry, Neville, and Hermione decided to make a bold move: let Voldemort know they'd left the school.
After figuring out the necessary steps, the trio brazenly appeared at the Ministry of Magic and blew up the statues in the Atrium.
That same day, The Daily Prophet branded Harry, Neville, and Hermione as terrorists responsible for the widespread destruction at the Ministry. Harry's bounty was set at 20,000 Galleons, with Neville and Hermione at 10,000 each.
"The Ministry's got deep pockets, doesn't it?" Harry remarked, bundled up tightly on a hill a few kilometers from Malfoy Manor, flipping through the latest Daily Prophet delivered by Dobby. "This bounty's so high, I'm half-tempted to turn myself in." He chuckled. "Too bad we have to keep watch until Dumbledore's signal."
Equally bundled up, Neville peered through binoculars, carefully observing the comings and goings at Malfoy Manor. "Got it," he nodded.
Harry returned to their tent. Ever since sending Dobby to protect the Grangers, he'd been wary of leaving Hermione alone in the kitchen. Her last attempt at cooking green beans had nearly done them all in.
While the trio idled on the hill, hundreds of miles away, at the old Gaunt shack, an unusual visitor arrived.
Surveying the dilapidated house nestled beside a copse of stunted trees, Dumbledore noted the fallen tiles, creeping vines, waist-high weeds, and grimy, cracked windows. His gaze lingered on a dried snake nailed to the door. It looked like an abandoned ruin, likely home to nothing more than a nest of Bowtruckles. Yet Dumbledore's expression was one of utmost caution.
His magical senses told him this was no mere ruin but a lair pulsing with dangerous Dark Magic, some of it startlingly fresh.
Tom had recently fortified this place.
"Well then, Tom," Dumbledore murmured, "let's see how much you've improved." With a wave of his wand, the wooden door creaked open. A flash of black light shot out, but a white glow enveloped Dumbledore, deflecting a snake as thick as a finger.
As if triggered, the decrepit house came alive. Doorframes, windowsills, and walls melted into a murky liquid, flowing to encircle Dumbledore. Before it could fully close around him, the liquid split into two massive, gelatinous blobs.
Dumbledore stepped calmly through the doorway. The moment he crossed the threshold, the frame slammed shut. A cacophony of hissing filled the air as countless snakes slithered from every corner, their bodies rearing up, vertical pupils fixed on the intruder.
"Tom's really gone all out," Dumbledore muttered, eyeing the vibrant, multicolored snake heads. "Even breeding the long-extinct King Serpent…" He sighed, knowing their minds were corrupted by Dark Magic. Otherwise, Newt would've been thrilled to see a species extinct for a decade.
An orange-yellow flame flickered from Dumbledore's wand, drifting down to the snake horde. In an instant, searing heat erupted, the flames so intense the air itself seemed to ignite.
Seconds later, the house was reduced to a few stubborn walls still standing. Before one stood a solitary cabinet.
After confirming with a detection spell that all traps had been incinerated by the Fiendfyre, Dumbledore waved his wand, opening the cobweb-covered cabinet from a distance.
Inside lay a ring embedded with a black stone.
Dumbledore stared at it, his eyes widening. He recognized that stone.
The Resurrection Stone.
One of the legendary Deathly Hallows.
The stone said to bring the dead back to life.
Trembling, the old man stepped forward, examining the unassuming ring.
A burst of flame appeared at his shoulder as Fawkes dropped the Sorting Hat into his arms.
Moments later, a piercing scream echoed in the dimness.
The sky here was perpetually shrouded in ominous gray clouds, impenetrable to sunlight, casting the region in a sickly pallor.
Withered vegetation and twisted trees painted a desolate scene, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky. Scattered across the ground were broken tombstones and ancient ruins—remnants of civilizations past, present, and perhaps future.
The air carried an unsettling aura, punctuated by distant wails and the low hum of incantations. The still, oily waters reflected the warped silhouettes of barren trees.
A man in tattered robes trudged forward, each step a struggle. Since falling through the Veil, he'd lost track of time, but he knew someone was waiting for him. He couldn't die—not yet, not until he saw him.
But he was so tired. He could feel his soul's connection to his body fraying. Soon, he might become like the other souls he'd encountered, losing memory, losing himself, doomed to wander this gray wasteland forever.
Then, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Sirius? What are you doing here?"
The air shimmered, and he found himself collapsing into the arms of a tall, elderly man.
Looking into the familiar blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, Sirius Black cracked a smile, his parched lips splitting. "Albus, are you dead too?"
"You're the one who looks half-dead," Dumbledore replied, cloaked in the Invisibility Cloak. He quickly assessed Sirius's condition, pulling vials of potions from his pocket and feeding them to him. With each potion, vitality returned to Sirius's failing body, and his foggy mind began to clear.
Only then did he register his surroundings.
"Albus, where are we? How did you find me?" Sirius glanced around, confused. "One moment I was dueling Bellatrix in the Department of Mysteries…"
"Hold on, Sirius," Dumbledore interrupted, raising a hand. "Just to be sure—who's your godson?"
"Harry James Potter."
Dumbledore stroked his beard. "And Harry's girlfriend?"
"Harry's got a girlfriend?!" Sirius leapt up, astonished.
"Answer the question," Dumbledore said, a spark of curiosity and amusement in his eyes.
"Well… I don't know who Harry's dating now, but I'd bet my wand Hermione Granger is or was his girlfriend," Sirius said confidently.
"One last question, Sirius. Do you know the way back?"
"The way back…" Sirius scanned the monotonous gray landscape, his shoulders slumping. "I don't know…"
Dumbledore glanced at the glowing path behind him, thoughtful. "And now?" He placed the Resurrection Stone in Sirius's hand. "See it now?"
"I see it!" Sirius pointed to a straight, radiant path to his side.
"Then lead the way," Dumbledore said with a smile, taking Sirius's arm. "Stay within the Invisibility Cloak's range."
"Oh, and if you don't mind," the old man added kindly, "tell me about what happened before you fell through the Veil."