Sunlight After Shadows. Part 2/2
"You know…" began Harry, adjusting the buttons of his jacket as he slowly stood up. The air in the room seemed to grow colder—almost oppressive. "On Luna's last birthday, her mother gave her a pair of rather pretty shoes. But Luna said they lacked a bit of 'sparkle,' so we all helped her decorate them with the shiniest things we could find."
He lifted one of the shoes delicately between his fingers. The gems embedded in the fabric glimmered in the firelight—tiny pearls, bits of crystal, and small diamonds that shone as though they held their own light.
"According to her," Harry continued in a low voice, "they're her most precious possession… because each part shines with something that belongs to the people who matter most to her."
His tone turned glacial, his aura radiating a dangerous energy.
Marietta felt her chest tighten; the air around her seemed to thicken, as though an invisible hand were slowly closing around her throat. Her eyes filled with tears as panic overtook her. Red, the crimson dragon, stepped forward with a deep, rumbling growl.
"I… I-I…" she stammered, trembling. She could barely breathe.
But Harry raised a hand, and Red stopped—though his gaze remained fixed on her, his fangs glinting beneath his scales. It would take only one command for him to attack.
Harry looked at his companion for a moment, then gave a faint smile. "Funny thing," he said quietly. "Red usually runs the moment he sees girls. But when one of them is hurt or in danger… even I have trouble keeping him under control."
His eyes lifted toward Marietta. "I hope you understand what that means."
For an instant, his gaze changed. His green irises turned scarlet—like burning embers.
Marietta opened her mouth to speak, but the world seemed to vanish. Suddenly, she was no longer in the common room. She was in a place of total darkness—no walls, no floor, nothing. She couldn't even see her hands.
"Let's make this just a warning," came Harry's voice from behind her, echoing from every direction.
Marietta spun around quickly, but no one was there.
She turned again—and there he was, standing right in front of her. His face was inches from hers, expressionless, his stare cold enough to freeze blood.
Harry reached out and wrapped his hand around her neck.
"Do it one more time," he said softly, though his voice carried a venomous threat. "Look at them. Despise them. Even dream of them…"
His grip tightened. Marietta tried to breathe, but no air came. Her vision blurred; the world spun around her. Terror scorched her chest.
"Try it," Harry whispered, leaning closer, "and I promise… whatever happens after this will make this moment feel like the sweetest dream you've ever had."
Then he let her go.
Marietta collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, and the world shifted again. She was back in the Ravenclaw common room, the fireplace crackling softly. The red glow of the flames lit her face—pale, drenched in sweat and tears.
She breathed heavily and lifted her gaze; Harry was sitting on the sofa, calm and still, as though he had never moved at all.
He snapped his fingers.
Every photograph on the table burst into blood-red flames, burning away to ash in seconds.
Marietta stumbled backward on her knees, trembling. The floor beneath her was soaked, her face wet, her breath uneven. She brought a shaking hand to her neck—no marks, yet she could still feel the phantom pressure of his fingers.
"Marietta…"
The familiar voice of Cho Chang broke the silence. She was coming down the stairs with several other girls, all drawn by the noise. A few boys followed, confused by what they were seeing.
Everyone froze at the sight. Marietta was on the floor, soaked, wearing an expression of sheer horror—and an awful smell began to spread through the room.
"It… it was him…" she gasped, raising a trembling hand to point at the sofa. "He… it was him…"
But the seat was empty. Red was gone too.
The others exchanged puzzled glances. Some stepped back, while others looked at her with discomfort, especially after noticing the puddle beneath her.
Draco, who had also come down after hearing the commotion, watched the scene for a moment before turning toward his friend, who stood calmly at his side.
"Don't you think she'll tell the professor?" he asked quietly.
Harry, holding Luna's shoes in his hands, gave a faint smile. His eyes reflected a calm so unsettling that even Draco hesitated to speak further.
"And what exactly would she say?" Harry replied. "That a student—one everyone saw in his dorm—attacked her? A girl with fantasies about her classmates and a stash of their photos hidden away? They'll just think it was one of her delusions."
His tone was dry, almost amused. Then he turned and began walking up the stairs, unhurried.
Draco watched him go, shrugged, and followed.
Meanwhile, Marietta was carried off to the infirmary by her classmates. No one believed her story. Everyone assumed she had suffered a nightmare—or a bout of sleepwalking brought on by stress.
The nurse gave her a sedative and let her sleep, assuring the others that she had no physical injuries. Not a single mark on her neck.
But Marietta could still feel those hands.
From that night on, every time she saw Luna Lovegood—or anyone close to her—she would run away pale and trembling, eyes wide with fear.
Her fellow Ravenclaws began avoiding her, whispering that she had gone strange. Only Cho Chang stayed near her, though more out of loyalty than true closeness.
And so, the incident became just another quiet rumor at Hogwarts—
one of those stories no one dares to confirm… yet everyone prefers not to speak about.
…
The next morning, Harry woke earlier than his friends and decided to have breakfast alone. As soon as he stepped out of the common room, he crossed paths with Fleur, who had also risen before her cousins and her friend.
She glanced at him briefly, her natural elegance evident even in such a casual moment. Then she offered a polite nod. Without exchanging a word, they began walking side by side down the corridor in silence, heading toward the Great Hall.
The air was fresh and quiet, and the only sound breaking the stillness was Harry's soft yawn.
Fleur, wanting to break the slightly awkward silence, recalled the events of the previous night. She too had heard the rumors and, driven by curiosity, had joined a few other students to witness the commotion that ended with Marietta being taken to the infirmary.
"Now that I think about it…" she said thoughtfully, "I believe you should embrace the title of 'villain' even more than I do. You even managed to give a girl nightmares about you."
Her tone carried a playful mix of teasing and curiosity, though her eyes were keenly observant.
Harry glanced sideways at her and smiled with amusement. "Only a villain can recognize another, don't you think?"
Fleur blinked, momentarily confused, until she caught the meaning behind his words.
"So… you're saying I'm a villain, then?" she retorted, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Harry didn't answer, but his smile said enough. Fleur let out a light huff—half amused, half exasperated. "Just remember you still owe me one, Potter," she finally said, folding her arms with a mischievous smile.
"Ah, of course…" Harry sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "I knew this day would come. The control of my body and soul now lies in the hands of a fearsome sovereign… a being who seeks only destruction—or perhaps to claim every handsome boy in the world. Oh, great queen, what mission awaits this poor puppet of yours?"
He began to move with theatrical exaggeration, raising his arms and acting with such dramatic flair that several students in the hallway turned to watch.
Fleur, completely unprepared for his performance, froze for a second before realizing dozens of eyes were on them.
From the outside, it looked as though she was commanding Harry like a servant. Her entire face turned bright red.
"Y-y-you…" she stammered, covering her face in embarrassment before quickening her pace as fast as she could to flee the scene.
Harry watched her escape, struggling not to laugh.
That had been his plan all along; he had no idea what favor Fleur might demand from him, but he definitely wasn't in the mood for any morning drama. So, he used his best skill: diverting attention.
With a calm smile, he continued walking toward the Great Hall.
By the time he arrived, a few early risers were already scattered across the tables. And there, in a far corner of the Ravenclaw table, sat Fleur, eating quietly while pretending not to see him. She seemed afraid that Harry might pull another of his "performances" in front of everyone.
Harry smiled to himself and sat down at his own table.
The moment he did, he felt a small weight on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw the tiny fairy named Terra sitting there, legs crossed, her expression cheerful and bright.
"I really don't know how you manage to appear without me noticing," said Harry with a smile.
The little fairy responded with a mischievous gesture and a series of hand signs to communicate. Her wings shimmered softly with every movement she made.
"Yes, yes, I know," Harry replied, amused. "I'll introduce you to the others later. Though you must've met them already when you brought Dee, right?"
The fairy nodded eagerly, fluttering a bit above his shoulder.
Harry tapped his fingers lightly on the table, and before him appeared a perfectly served breakfast: a fresh salad and fruit cut into small cubes.
He picked up a piece of apple and offered it to Terra, who accepted it happily, nibbling at it while she balanced on his shoulder.
"Let me guess…" Harry said with a sly smile. "Mum sent you to keep an eye on me, didn't she?"
Terra froze for a second, then looked away with an innocent expression, continuing to eat as if she hadn't heard him.
Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"I knew it," he murmured under his breath before continuing his breakfast peacefully, while the morning sunlight streamed through the Great Hall windows, bathing everything in a warm calm that contrasted sharply with the night before.