Date: Tuesday, January 7th, 1986
Time: 8:00 AM
Location: Private Morning Lounge, East Wing, Buckingham Palace, London, England
The scent of fresh scones and Earl Grey hung faintly in the morning air, accompanied by the muffled ticking of a centuries-old grandfather clock nestled between two high-backed chairs. The golden winter light streamed through tall windows adorned with deep crimson drapes, illuminating the royal crest stitched into the carpets and the gilded frames of family portraits along the walls.
The Royal Family had just assembled in the Private Morning Lounge after being gently roused by the household staff...though it had been clear the Queen had barely slept. Neither had Prince Charles, whose brow remained furrowed, nor Princess Diana, who held her teacup delicately but stared into it with distracted unease.
Prince Andrew and Prince Edward entered shortly after, whispering between themselves in hushed voices that silenced when the door opened again.
Amelia Bones, upright and formal in her deep navy cloak with the silver clasp of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, stepped into the room with a firm stride. At her side walked Elana Hogwarts, her posture regal, her Bands of Eternity glowing faintly in the presence of such authority. Mizukume followed silently, her kimono a waterfall of shimmering blue and white, her nine tails trailing behind her like a living tapestry of grace and power.
The Queen raised an eyebrow as she set her teacup aside. "Lady Bones... Lady Hogwarts... Lady Mizukume. I trust there is news regarding my grandson?"
"There is, Your Majesty," Amelia said, bowing slightly. "The ritual was a success. The Horcrux fragment in His Grace's scar has been removed."
A collective sigh of relief escaped from around the room. "Thank God," Charles muttered. "So the boy is safe now?" "He is," Elana confirmed, placing a hand gently over her chest. "The soul fragment has been destroyed...though...there was a complication." Diana leaned forward slightly, her voice tinged with apprehension. "What kind of complication?"
Mizukume's golden eyes closed for a moment before she replied. "The fragment did not simply vanish. When separated from His Grace's body, it tried to escape. And then... something ancient opened in response. A rift...a tear to what we believe was a realm mortals would call Hell."
Silence struck the room like thunder. The Queen paled, her gloved hand curling tightly around the armrest. "You're telling me...that Hell itself appeared inside these walls?" "Not entirely," Amelia replied, her voice sharp and calm like a dagger sheathed in velvet. "It opened only long enough to consume the fragment. It closed itself without further breach, but the implications are...disturbing."
"We must call a council," Charles said at once, rising from his seat. "The Prime Minister...he must be briefed. And magical leadership summoned at once." "Agreed," Andrew said, standing beside him. "Something like this cannot be kept quiet."
"No." The Queen's voice cut through the chatter with commanding finality. "Not yet. We must understand what we face before we risk panic. If Hell answered... it may do so again." At that precise moment, the tall double doors swung open once more.
The man who entered moved with the quiet, undeniable authority of a king of his own domain. His long silver beard shimmered in the morning sun, and his half-moon spectacles reflected the golden glow of the room's chandeliers.
Albus Dumbledore carried a rectangular glass box in both hands, protected by golden runes that flickered with power. Inside, cradled atop white velvet, sat a beautiful yet corrupted object: a silver diadem, its blue gem glinting with ancient magic...and unmistakable darkness. "Forgive the interruption," Dumbledore said gently. "But I believe this concerns you all." Elana's eyes widened instantly. "That... that's Ravenclaw's Diadem."
Harry, wheeled in moments earlier by Dora and Fleur, froze the instant he heard Elana's voice catch with emotion. He turned, his eyes still tired but bright with warmth, and opened his arms without hesitation. "Come here, Elana. Please."
Without hesitation, she crossed the floor, falling into his embrace. He clutched her tightly, resting his cheek against hers as the golden Soulstone of the Bound...a gleaming yellow diamond set in platinum...glowed softly against his chest beneath the collar of his buttoned shirt.
"I heard it," Harry murmured into her ear. "Your magic... it was calling. It feels close to your heart." Elana's voice broke with emotion. "Because it is. That crown belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw. She was my ancestor. The very blood that gave me life once forged that relic."
"Then it's not just cursed," Dora muttered, arms crossed. "It's personal." Gabrielle stepped forward, her small hand clutching Hermione's. "Is... is it like the piece that hurt 'Arry?" "Worse," said a new voice. Ilyana entered, her black Ministry robes swaying as she crossed the room, carrying a strange wandlike device bristling with copper coils and glowing quartz.
"This," she said, pointing the device directly at the glass box containing the diadem, "is a Horcrux. It is the second one we've found...and it is more deeply embedded with soul magic than the fragment Harry carried. Whatever ritual Voldemort used to create it... it was amplified by the ancient magic in the artifact itself." Everyone in the room stood in stunned silence.
Diana placed a hand to her chest. "There are more of them?" "Yes," Amelia said darkly. "And until they are all destroyed, Voldemort cannot truly die." "But now we know how to find them," Elana added softly, her voice stronger as she stood tall beside Harry. "And we will. Because we're bound together. Always."
Each of the girls present touched their Bands of Eternity as if by instinct. The golden script shimmered once more with the names etched in glowing Veela magic: Harry Potter, Elana Hogwarts, Hermione Jean Granger, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Nymphadora "Dora" Tonks, Susan Bones, Gabrielle Delacour, Mizukume. Harry, his hand resting over his Soulstone, smiled gently. "They can hide them in darkness," he said, "but we'll find them in the light."
Time: 8:35 AM
Location: Private Morning Lounge, East Wing, Buckingham Palace, London, England
The room pulsed with an uneasy silence. The Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, encased in its rune-warded glass box, sat on the ornate tea table like a relic unearthed from time itself. Every person in the room...from Queen Elizabeth to Princess Diana, from Elana to the smallest Bound...felt the overwhelming pressure of the dark soul fragment nested deep within the ancient artifact.
But then… something changed. The Soulstone of the Bound, nestled just above Harry's heart beneath his navy wool jumper, shimmered like captured sunlight through a prism. Without warning, it flared to life...golden light bursting from beneath the layers of fabric as if the very core of his being had awakened. A hum like wind through crystal filled the lounge.
Harry's eyes opened wide, but there was no fear in them. Only resolve. "I feel it," Harry whispered as he placed his small hand against the Soulstone. "It's reacting. It knows what's in the diadem." The golden glow intensified, and then… A beam of light...pure, focused, and alive with magic...shot right from the Soulstone of the Bound across the room, striking the Diadem of Ravenclaw like a thunderbolt. The runes surrounding the glass pulsed, then shattered with a high-pitched whine as the artifact was engulfed in swirling energy.
"What in Merlin's name is going on?" Amelia gasped, stepping back, her wand drawn but unmoving. "Elana!" Hermione cried. "Harry...he's doing something...something powerful!" Elana stood frozen for a heartbeat, then placed her hand over her chest where her Band of Eternity pulsed violently. "It's not just him," she breathed. "It's the Soulstone. Our bond...it's acting through him."
"Harry?" Fleur's voice cracked as the beam began to pull. From the diadem, a shadow was being forcibly wrenched free...a dark, writhing mass of smoke and rage. "It's him," Dora said through clenched teeth. "It's Voldemort." The soul fragment screamed...not with words, but with the pure fury of a creature denied its refuge. But the beam held it, suspended in mid-air, trembling like a trapped beast.
Harry's small body glowed, his Soulstone humming in resonance with the golden bands of his soul-bound girls. The light surrounded him like armor, lifting him gently from his wheelchair. He stood unaided, his face bathed in divine radiance. His voice, though soft, cut through the horror like sunlight through storm clouds.
"You are not welcome here..you are to be gone." The room held its breath. "I said…you are to be gone." As if answering magical tears is a second hole in reality...a black and red, burning with eldritch fire...Magic and Hell itself answering once more. The vortex screamed like a thousand tortured spirits, opening wide behind the suspended soul of Voldemort.
And then, with all the will and defiance of the Bound acting as one through their anchor, Harry let the beam go. "I SAID THAT YOU ARE TO BE GONEFROM THIS PLANE OF THE LIVING!"
The soul screamed as it was ripped backward, sucked into the infernal tear, twisting and clawing but unable to resist the magic of love, purity, and judgment wielded by one so young.
Then...silence. The tear closed with a thunderous slam, the room still glowing faintly with residual magic. Harry's body wavered...and he collapsed backward.
Dora and Fleur surged forward, but the Soulstone's light caught him, lowering him gently back into his wheelchair as if the magic itself refused to let him fall.
"Harry!" Elana cried, rushing to him, hands glowing with diagnostic magic. "Are you hurt? Say something!" Harry exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering open with a tired, radiant smile. "I'm okay. He's gone. That one…that one won't hurt anyone ever again."
Before anyone could speak again, the air shimmered...and a voice, feminine and powerful, rang through the room. It echoed in their minds and hearts, not with force, but with divine clarity.
"Two down… five to go, my champion." The Queen gasped softly. Susan clutched Mizukume's hand. Gabrielle blinked, wide-eyed and clutching the arm of Harry's chair. "The Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw is yours now and it personally belongs to you, Lord Hogwarts." The voice faded like a warm breeze passing through open doors. But its message hung in the air with holy finality. "I heard it," whispered Hermione. "Did you… did everyone hear that?"
"I did," Elana said with trembling awe. "That was...magic itself. The old magic. The mother-magic." Harry looked up at her with wide, shining eyes. "She called me her champion."
"And you are, love," Elana whispered, tears pooling in her lashes. "You are." She reached down to the table where the now-purified diadem sat untouched, no longer bound in runes or glass, but quietly humming with cleansed wisdom. She picked it up gently, reverently, then turned and knelt beside Harry, holding it like one would a crown meant only for a beloved.
"I give this to you, not because it is yours by right of blood, though it is," she said softly, "but because it is yours by right of spirit." She leaned in, kissed his forehead gently, then pressed her lips to his in a soft, devoted kiss. "I love you, my Lord Hogwarts." "I love you too, my Lady Hogwarts" Harry whispered, his Soulstone pulsing in reply.
Time: 9:15 AM
Location: Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, Carpathian Mountains, Romania**
The wind howled down the mountain pass, sending flurries of white snow dancing like spirits across the cliffs. The sky above was a harsh steel gray, broken only by the brilliant flash of dragonfire and the deep, thunderous whoomph of wings.
Nestled in the mountainside, the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary stood like a fortress of stone and flame. Dragons of every breed were spread throughout the wide expanse...Peruvian Vipertooth, Ukrainian Ironbellies, and among them, the most fearsome of them all: the Hungarian Horntail.
In a cozy guest suite made from native stone and enchanted firewood, ten-year-old Penelope Clearwater stood near the wide window, watching the majestic beasts in the distance. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled into a neat braid, and she wore a thick, dark blue traveling dress with a matching velvet cloak trimmed in silver...appropriate for a Ministry family daughter on a diplomatic visit.
She had been feeling strange all morning...an odd tingling on her left wrist where her Bands of Eternity had rested for months now, ever since her accidental binding during a magical outburst in Diagon Alley. The golden script had always shimmered faintly, but now it pulsed with urgent light. "It's warm," Penny whispered to herself, clutching her wrist. "What's happening?" Suddenly, a roar shook the sky above her, and the next moment...something massive slammed into the balcony outside her room.
Stone cracked. Snow exploded in all directions. Penny stumbled back, but her eyes went wide with awe and familiarity. It was a Hungarian Horntail, large and black-scaled, her body gleaming like obsidian, eyes like molten gold. Her spiked tail coiled tightly behind her, wings spread wide in threat or instinct.
Then...it happened. Both the dragon's left foreleg and Penny's wrist glowed with identical light. The Bands of Eternity pulsed together as if drawn by destiny itself. "What is this?" Penny gasped, stepping toward the massive creature, her fear overridden by the radiant warmth she felt through the bond. "Are... are you like me?"
The Horntail blinked, eyes softening. The same golden Veela script etched itself visibly onto her scaled leg, identical to the one on Penny's wrist. In that moment, the Horntail let out a low rumble and began to transform.
Black scales shimmered into bronzed skin. Bone shifted, shrinking and reforming with elegant symmetry. Wings folded and reshaped. A long black tail remained, curling elegantly around bare ankles. Before Penny now stood a woman...tall, powerful, and radiant. She was five feet eight inches, with a top-hourglass figure, athletic and sculpted like a statue carved by dragons themselves. Her wings...dark and leathery...sprouted proudly from her back, and her black-scaled tail extended from her lower spine, swaying like a sentinel.
Two elegant, curved horns protruded from her forehead, framing her face. She wore a modified 1986 emerald-green dress tailored for her wings and tail, with bronze lacing and a gemstone brooch in the shape of a dragon's eye. "I'm Katarina," she said, her voice low and rich, like smoldering coals. "I've been searching for the one the bond calls me to. And it led me here...to you."
"I'm Penny," she said, breathless, then offered a small smile. "I think... we're part of the same bond. You feel it too, right?" Katarina nodded. "Yes. The bond between us was awakened. I saw your name glow beneath his...beneath Harry Potter's. And now I carry it too."
The Bands on their wrists pulsed again, ancient Veela script glowing with new additions: Harry Potter, Elana Hogwarts, Hermione Jean Granger, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Nymphadora "Dora" Tonks, Susan Bones, Gabrielle Delacour, Mizukume, Penelope Clearwater, Katarina
"I have to go to him," Penny whispered. "I feel him calling.", "Then we go together…sister," Katarina said, stepping forward with one powerful stride. "The call of the Bound is not one we ignore." They descended to the Sanctuary's main pavilion, where stunned staff and handlers stared in awe. Within minutes, magical Portkeys were arranged through the Romanian Ministry of Magic. The International Department of Magical Transport had barely recovered from the shock of a humanoid dragon and a British diplomat's daughter requesting urgent passage to Buckingham Palace.
By 9:45 AM, the duo stood tall and calm on International Arrival Platform One at the British Ministry of Magic. By 10:05 AM, escorted by Ministry Aurors who had been briefed by Elana herself, they stepped through the secure Floo link leading to Buckingham Palace's Magical Receiving Hall, the air shimmering around them.
Penny's eyes lit up. "He's close. I can feel it...he's in the palace." Katarina nodded, her tail swaying behind her as she adjusted the skirt of her emerald-green dress. "Let's go meet our Bonded…and soul-sister."
Time: 10:10 AM
Location: Reception Hall, Magical Wing, Buckingham Palace, London, England**
The double oakwood doors of the Reception Hall opened with a soft groan of hinges and a ripple of magic that danced across the warded ceilings. Morning light spilled through the tall enchanted windows, reflecting off the gilded tapestries and polished floors.
Harry Potter sat in his wheelchair near the hearth, draped in a wool-lined navy cloak over his palace-issued attire. His small hands rested on the polished wood armrests as his fingers absently touched the Soulstone of the Bound, hidden beneath the soft cotton of his white shirt, glowing ever so faintly beneath the fabric...warm and alive.
The other girls of the Bound encircled him with quiet anticipation, their Bands of Eternity glimmering with subtle pulses of gold. Hermione sat beside him on the loveseat, her hand protectively in his. Fleur and Dora stood behind, hands clasped, while Susan leaned against the window frame. Mizukume crouched beside Gabrielle, who had her head resting against the Kitsune's side, drowsy but comforted.
Then the room changed. The Soulstone flared beneath Harry's shirt. Harry looked up, eyes wide and shining. "They're here." Before anyone could respond, the enchanted entry ward shimmered...and from the arched doorway, Penelope Clearwater stepped into the hall, her expression nervous but lit with unmistakable wonder. Beside her strode Katarina, tall and breathtaking, her Horntail wings tucked close to her back, her horns gleaming beneath the chandelier's light. Her powerful, sculpted figure moved with grace that belied her size, her long black tail curling behind her like a royal train.
The Bands of Eternity on both of their left wrists glowed brightly, ancient Veela script shifting to accommodate their places within the Bound. The names shimmered in unison: Harry Potter, Elana Hogwarts, Hermione Jean Granger, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Nymphadora "Dora" Tonks, Susan Bones, Gabrielle Delacour, Mizukume, Penelope Clearwater, Katarina
For a heartbeat, the room held its breath. Harry sat still, stunned not by fear, but by the rightness of the moment. His eyes welled with tears as he looked at Penny, barely older than he was, her brown eyes shimmering with emotion. She was trembling...conflicted, uncertain, but drawn by something stronger than fear.
Harry reached out a hand. "Penny... I know you." She let out a tiny gasp as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I feel like I've known you forever." Penny ran the remaining steps and knelt at his side, wrapping her arms around him with all the desperate love of a child who had found something she didn't know she was missing. Harry didn't hesitate...he hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder as the Soulstone pulsed like a second heartbeat between them.
Katarina moved with less urgency, but no less intensity. Her bare feet padded across the royal carpet as she dropped to one knee beside the two children. The soft rustle of her wings was the only sound as she placed a large, claw-tipped hand on Harry's chest...directly over the glowing Soulstone. "I heard your call," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't know what it was until the moment I saw her...your other Bound. I felt it in my bones. You are mine, and I am yours. Forever." Harry looked up at her, tears slipping down his cheeks. "I was waiting for you. Both of you."
"You didn't have to wait alone," Penny whispered, her arms still around him. "Not anymore." Elana stepped forward slowly, her eyes misty with awe. "The Bond never lies. It calls those who are worthy, those who are needed. You were both always meant to be here." Katarina's wings flared slightly, not in defense but in wonder. "I've lived in flame and storm my whole life. Nothing ever made me feel... safe. Not until now."
Fleur knelt beside Gabrielle, brushing her little sister's golden hair aside. "She speaks like one of us. She is one of us." Dora stepped behind Harry's chair and gently set a hand on Katarina's shoulder. "Welcome home, fireheart." Susan, smiling through silent tears, added quietly, "We're not just his Bound. We're each other's. All of us." Gabrielle, now wide awake and cuddled close to Mizukume, chirped softly, "I like her. She smells like campfires and safety."
A warm laughter filled the hall...gentle, emotional, real. Katarina blinked, surprised at the sudden feeling of belonging. "I've never had a home before." "You do now," Hermione said with quiet certainty. "Right here. With us."
Harry pulled back from Penny's embrace just enough to place one hand in hers, and the other on Katarina's. "We're together now. And we're stronger because of it." The Soulstone flared one last time that morning, resonating with the Bands of Eternity, harmonizing in a silent song only the Bound could hear...a song of unity, of love, of unbreakable bonds.
And in the quiet that followed, the Royal Family...watching from the archway with quiet awe...understood that the world had just shifted again.
Location: Grand Diplomatic Receiving Hall, East Wing, Buckingham Palace, London, England**
The polished mahogany doors of the Grand Diplomatic Receiving Hall swung open under the guidance of palace stewards. Cold air from the winter courtyard spilled briefly into the room as six robed figures entered in formation, their silver-trimmed cloaks fluttering with an otherworldly grace, their wands and hands adorned with enchanted Veela gemstones that shimmered with shifting colors of heat and storm.
They were unmistakably Veela...tall, elegant, and radiant, their inhuman beauty tempered with sharp poise. Leading them was a high-ranking matriarch of the French Veela Coven, her silver hair flowing freely down her back, crowned by a diadem of moonstone and flame-crystal. Beside her walked a man in deep midnight robes bearing the gold-threaded insignia of the French Minister of Magic.
Apolline Delacour, radiant even among Veela, strode in behind them, her posture firm but her eyes soft as they scanned the room...and settled immediately on Fleur, Gabrielle, and Harry. The atmosphere shifted at once.
"I am Lady Sylvene of the High Veela Coven," the elder envoy said, her voice clear and commanding. "And I have come to demand an explanation...two of our sacred Vekka daughters have been soul-bound to a child of foreign soil, one who claims allegiance to a royal human throne. Where is the formal negotiation? Where is the offering of names and magic?"
Fleur's shoulders stiffened, but she didn't speak. Harry, still in his chair, sat upright. The Soulstone of the Bound, though hidden beneath the cotton of his formal shirt, pulsed through the fabric with quiet radiance, illuminating the area around his heart. The Bands of Eternity on the wrists of the girls surrounding him glowed in solemn reply.
Hermione stood tall at his side. "He didn't choose to bind us out of politics. We chose each other through fate, through love." Gabrielle moved closer, standing protectively at Harry's side, her small hand wrapping around his. "'E saved me... from nightmares. He made me feel safe."
Dora, arms folded, narrowed her eyes. "He didn't take your daughters. They came to him. Like we all did." A heavy pause followed. Then...Lady Sylvene's gaze landed fully on Harry. And everything changed.
Her eyes, once sharp and dispassionate, slowly widened in stunned recognition. Her posture faltered slightly as she took in the boy seated before her...not because of his name, but because of what surrounded him. The golden glow of the Soulstone was unmistakable. The spell-stitched warmth radiating from it echoed in her core. She looked to each of the soul-bonded girls, reading the bands on their wrists in Ancient Veela script. "Impossible," she whispered.
Apolline stepped forward at that moment, gently placing a hand on Sylvene's arm. "It is not only possible, my Lady. It has happened. And he is not merely a bonded...he is Bounded, in the ancient sense."
"Explain," Lady Sylvene demanded, though her tone was already subdued by awe. Lord Mark Delacour, tall and stately in ceremonial French magical robes, strode beside his wife and addressed the gathering with diplomatic weight.
"Harry James Potter is not just a magical child," he began, his deep voice firm and resonant. "He is the last male heir of the House of Peverell. He bears the ancient Soulstone of the Bound. He has awakened the Bands of Eternity in our daughters through the True Bond. And," he added, turning to face Harry directly, "he is also heir to the English Throne by blood."
Apolline stepped forward, kneeling beside Harry without hesitation, her hand covering his on the armrest of the chair. "And you, mon petit, carry something else. My Fleur has inherited the Veela High Blood from me. She is a daughter of the Royal Flame. That means you, Harry, have bound yourself to a Princess of the Veela."
Harry looked up at her, his voice soft but clear. "Then I'll protect her. All of them. I don't care what rules I was supposed to follow." Lord Delacour smiled faintly. "Then it is only right that you receive what is yours." He turned to Lady Sylvene and bowed his head in formal tradition.
"I, Lord Mark Delacour, Minister of Magic for France and Head of House Delacour, hereby offer recognition of Harry James Potter as a noble peer of the Royal Veela Courts, elevated to the rank of Flame-Born Lord under the name Lord Hogwarts, Flame-Bound of House Delacour, by right of his bond with Her Flame Highness Fleur Isabelle Delacour and Gabrielle Delacour."
Gasps echoed from the magical and royal observers. Fleur's eyes filled with tears, her Bands of Eternity glowing so brightly they cast shadows. "Mon amour (My Love)... you are ours now. And now, the world knows it." Harry blinked, overwhelmed by the power of the moment, but found his voice. "I accept. I don't know what it means yet. But if it means they'll stop trying to take you away... then I accept it with all my heart."
Lady Sylvene lowered her head respectfully. "Then it is sealed. The High Veela Covenant recognizes the Bound and the Soulstone. May your flames burn eternal." Elana stepped forward, placing a hand on Fleur's shoulder. "The world just shifted. Again." Katarina, wings tucked tightly, gave a proud nod. "And I will burn to cinders any who dare question it." The room burst into soft laughter and knowing smiles.
The Royal Family, watching quietly from behind the enchanted divider, exchanged glances. "This boy," Prince Charles murmured, "is going to change the very foundation of the magical world." Queen Elizabeth said nothing, but the expression in her eyes was clear. Pride. And resolve.
Time: 2:15 PM
Location: Greengrass Estate, Northern Wiltshire, England**
A soft chime of magic echoed through the air like the lingering note of a violin, felt rather than heard. It shimmered through the fabric of the magical world, brushing like a whisper against the senses of the Bound still gathered in Buckingham Palace's East Wing.
Harry was seated by the fireplace, his Soulstone of the Bound resting warm against his chest. It suddenly pulsed once, then twice, then flared in a long, glowing shimmer that left his skin tingling. He gasped softly and placed a hand over the hidden pendant. The room quieted instantly.
"Something's calling," Harry said quietly. "I can feel it... not just anywhere. Someone. Someone new." Fleur straightened beside him, her Bands of Eternity glowing bright. "I feel it too, mon cœur (my Heart)…It's like... ice. Beautiful and ancient."
Mizukume's nine tails twitched as she turned sharply toward the window. "She's awakening." Katarina unfolded her wings slowly, her tail curling with focused tension. "Who is she?"
Elana stood at the center of the room, her gaze distant as her mind reached through the magical field. Her Bands glowed brighter with each second, their ancient script dancing like firelight. "I know this presence. It's her. Daphne Greengrass. She is awakening to Bond. Her magic is no longer dormant...it's responding to Harry's soul, now free from corruption." Hermione stood up beside Harry, holding his hand. "Where is she?"
"Greengrass Manor," Elana answered, her voice calm but purposeful. "Northern Wiltshire. Lord Henry Greengrass presides over the estate. I saw him in the High Chamber of the Wizengamot two days ago. He's old-line, fiercely traditional...but not cruel."
"Do we go?" Dora asked, already adjusting the scarf around her shoulders. Harry nodded, standing up from his wheelchair with Fleur's help. "Yes. If she's waking, I want to be there. She shouldn't be alone."
The Queen's magical attaché arranged transport under royal secrecy. Ministry-approved magical carriages and concealment charms were authorized to ensure a discrete journey. By 1:50 PM, the Bound were en route beneath layered glamours and temperature-controlled enchantments.
By 2:10 PM, they arrived at the gates of the Greengrass Estate, its grand ironwork etched with old ward sigils and its grounds dusted with a fine coat of untouched snow.
The manor itself stood like a sculpture against the gray winter sky...three stories of elegant stone, with tall frosted windows and ivy-covered arches. The snow-covered gardens beyond stretched into the distance, hedged by enchanted yews.
Lord Henry Greengrass greeted them with the firm reserve of a man well-acquainted with magical politics. A tall, silver-haired wizard in deep green robes, his eyes flicked briefly over the group before landing on Elana. "Lady Hogwarts," he said, bowing his head. "You honor my home."
"You'll want to hear this," Elana said gently, her voice low enough for only him. "Your daughter is awakening." Henry blinked. "What do you mean?" Before she could answer, a ripple of magic washed over the estate. It was cold and sharp...but not harsh. It was pure. Every witch and wizard present felt it in their bones. Mizukume turned her head toward the distant garden. "There." They moved through the manor quickly and stepped into the eastern gardens.
The wind carried a stillness that spoke of deep slumber, the snow-covered hedges and frozen fountains catching the pale afternoon sun. At the heart of the garden was a stone bench, surrounded by bare white trees dusted with frost. And seated upon that bench, in a pale blue robe and wool shawl, was Daphne Greengrass.
Her eyes were closed. Her small hands rested gently in her lap. But above her chest...over her heart...a light glowed. Not fiery like Fleur's, not wild like Dora's, nor mystical like Mizukume's. It was a soft, crystalline blue...a frozen flame.
The Bands of Eternity shimmered into being on her left wrist. Elana held out a hand, stopping the others. "Let it happen." Harry stepped forward alone. His Soulstone pulsed in quiet response to the glowing band on Daphne's wrist.
Daphne opened her eyes. "I...I know you," she whispered. Harry smiled gently, kneeling in the snow in front of her. "I'm Harry. And you're not alone." She blinked, confused but calm. "Why does it feel like I've waited for you?" "Because we were meant to find each other," Harry answered. "You're one of us. You always were."
The light between them grew brighter...Daphne's Band now fully inscribed with ancient Veela script. Fleur came forward, offering a wool blanket and a soft smile. "You've joined something far greater than you ever imagined, ma belle."
Daphne reached out hesitantly, and Harry took her hand. Her Band pulsed. The Soulstone pulsed. And just like that, the bond was sealed.
Time: 5:05 PM
Location: East Wing Ritual Chamber, Buckingham Palace, London, England**
The Palace's East Wing Ritual Chamber had not seen such movement since the Horcrux had been extracted. Magical glyphs and summoning sigils, ancient and modern, had been re-inscribed across the polished marble floor. The chandeliers had been dimmed, allowing the runes to cast their own pale glow, and a calm hush blanketed the room.
At the center stood Mizukume, her nine tails slowly fanned behind her like silk banners caught in a breeze that no one else could feel. Her fox ears twitched as her head turned toward the north wall, eyes narrowing with sudden clarity. "I hear her," Mizukume said quietly. "Across the Spirit Path. She's calling through the old bond... following the Song of the Bound."
Harry looked up from where he sat near the circle's edge, hands folded atop his blanket-covered knees. The Soulstone of the Bound beneath his shirt began to glow...steady and warm, brighter than it had been since Daphne's awakening. "Another?" Hermione whispered, both awed and amazed. "So soon?"
"It's not soon," Mizukume answered with reverence. "It's right. Kitsune bonds do not wait for convenience. They arrive at the moment of fate." Susan tilted her head. "What do we do?"
"We open the path," Elana said, already stepping forward with her wand raised. "Everyone, prepare the circle. Let her through." The girls moved quickly. Gabrielle and Penny laid down foxglove and spirit-lotus petals as instructed. Dora and Daphne lit ceremonial incense along the western edge, while Fleur and Katarina cast shielding wards along the windows and ceiling.
At Mizukume's nod, Elana stood at the cardinal point, wand glowing. "In the name of magic and fate, by the call of the Kitsune blood and the power of the Soul-Bound, we summon the fox maiden whose path crosses the soul of Harry James Potter," Elana intoned.
A burst of silver flame burst within the summoning circle, forming a ring of celestial foxfire. The air shimmered, humming with sacred energy. Then, as if parted by divine will, the foxfire split down the center...and she stepped through…Ahri.
Nine solid tails flowed behind her, trailing golden embers in her wake. Her hair fell in long obsidian waves over her shoulders, and her eyes...glowing gold with slit pupils...locked directly onto Harry's. She stood at five feet seven, robed in layered ceremonial silk marked with ancient runes, every step an act of grace and certainty.
Her bare feet crossed the inner ring of the summoning circle, and though the others gasped, it was Harry who moved first. He stood, and it was not shakily, Not with aid, He stood with strength, and he walked. Dora choked. "His legs...he's not using the braces..."
The Soulstone flared with blinding gold, brighter than it ever had before. A radiant light engulfed Harry and Ahri both as they moved toward each other. Their hands met, fingers brushing, and the moment they touched...
Harry's body glowed, a warm, brilliant golden light burst outward from him, flowing like liquid sunlight. It lasted ten full seconds, a resonance echoing through the Soulstone and the Bands of Eternity alike. All eleven Bound felt the bond take hold.
When the light faded, everyone stared...not at Ahri, not at the Soulstone...but at Harry. He stood without support, his legs straight, whole, and unbound. The braces and splints were gone, reduced to dust beside the circle. "Harry..." Hermione whispered, tears in her eyes. "You're healed."
"I feel it," Harry said, stunned but smiling. "I can walk. She... she healed me. "Ahri stepped closer, her nine tails curling gently behind her. "No. We healed you. The bond...the truth of it...healed what pain alone could not."
Gabrielle ran forward and hugged his legs tightly. "You're better! You're really better!" Elana pressed a hand over her heart, staring at the newly glowing band on her wrist as a new name shimmered into existence. Ahri.
"I've never seen a binding with that much power," Elana murmured. "This is... beyond sacred. Beyond ancient. This is divine magic." Mizukume bowed her head to Ahri, tails brushing the ground in respect. "Welcome, sister. You were worth the wait." Ahri smiled softly, and for the first time, her voice came not with mystery, but with warmth. "And I am home."