Silence ruled Dumbledore's office long after the last echo of war faded from the Pensieve.
The air itself seemed heavier, as though it had absorbed the weight of trenches, crowns, and promises made in blood and snow.
McGonagall was the first to move.
She sat down, quite abruptly, in the nearest chair, one hand pressed to her mouth, the other gripping the armrest as if to steady herself.
"High King," she said faintly. "Elemental."
Flitwick wiped his spectacles with trembling fingers. "That… that wasn't theoretical magic. That was world-anchored authority. A magic system that responds to sovereignty itself."
Snape's expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with a sharp, calculating intensity. "He didn't learn their magic," he said slowly. "He was acknowledged by it."
Sirius exhaled shakily and dragged a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell, Prongslet," he muttered, half-laughing, half-horrified. "You became a king and went to war… and then came back to do homework."
Remus didn't smile.
He was watching Harry.
Watching the way Harry's shoulders remained tight, the way his gaze had gone distant at the final image of Normandy.
"You carried command," Remus said quietly. "Not just power. Responsibility."
Vael broke her professional composure at last, her voice low and reverent. "The ICW suspected extraplanar displacement. We did not anticipate enthronement."
Dumbledore folded his hands, blue eyes sorrowful and proud all at once.
"And now you see," he said gently, "why secrecy was vital."
Harry nodded once. "They needed to know," he said simply. "If I'm going to keep being… this," he gestured vaguely "then people need to understand what that means."
Dumbledore rose. "Then we shall begin with those who trust you most."
The Second Viewing
Ron went pale five minutes in.
Hermione stopped taking notes entirely.
Neville sat bolt upright, hands clenched in his robes, eyes shining with awe and horror in equal measure. Luna watched with serene fascination, as if she had always known something like this was possible.
They watched Harry crown-bound and lion-formed.
They watched Edmund fall.
They watched Jadis die.
They watched Normandy.
When they emerged, Ron let out a long, stunned breath.
"…You died," he said hoarsely. "I mean, not died-died, but you fought in a Muggle war after being a king."
Hermione turned slowly to Harry. "You didn't just live another life," she said. "You lived a history."
Neville swallowed. "You saved worlds," he said simply.
Luna smiled at Harry, dreamy but certain. "You've always had kingly shoulders," she said. "They just finally noticed."
Harry snorted softly. "Tell that to Umbridge."
The Great Hall noticed immediately.
Harry entered wearing deep crimson robes unlike any Gryffindor uniform seen before, layered, rune-threaded, embroidered with subtle gold patterns that seemed to shift when the light caught them. The lion crest over his heart was older, sharper, regal.
Whispers rippled like a wave.
Ron nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.
"Blimey, mate, since when do you dress like a walking legend?"
Harry slid onto the bench beside Hermione, unfazed. "Since about a hundred and fifty years ago."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Those are...?"
"Reward robes," Harry said casually. "From a questline. Took weeks. Had to uncover three hidden chambers, restore a broken ley convergence, and outwit a sentient portrait."
Ron stared. "Course you did."
McGonagall watched him carefully from the staff table, her expression unreadable, but not disapproving.
Butterbeer flowed freely in the Three Broomsticks until Harry froze mid-sip.
"…I own a shop," he said suddenly.
Silence.
"You what?" Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna chorused.
Harry blinked. "Right. Forgot to mention that."
They followed him down a quieter street to a narrow shopfront bearing a weathered sign:
Vesters & Venom – Potions, Plants, and Curiosities
The bell chimed.
"Master Harry!"
A house-elf rushed forward, ears flapping, eyes shining. "Penny knew you would come back!"
Harry crouched immediately. "Penny," he said warmly. "I'm glad you're still here."
She wrung her hands. "Business is slower, Master Harry. Penny is not as quick as she once was."
Hermione opened her mouth.
"Dobby!" Harry called instead.
With a pop, Dobby appeared.
After a brief explanation, Dobby nodded vigorously. "Dobby will help! When Dobby is not ironing socks for Professor Flitwick!"
Penny beamed.
Then her expression turned worried. "Master Harry should go to Gringotts. The Malfoys… they are asking questions. Papers. Ownership."
Magic rolled.
The shop rattled.
Shelves hummed.
Harry's eyes burned bright, then he exhaled, the pressure snapping back like a drawn bow released.
"I'll handle it," he said quietly.
Ron swallowed. Hermione squeezed his arm. Neville looked ready to fight a war himself.
They left in silence.
Dinner awaited.
But every one of them felt it.
Harry Potter was no longer just a boy returning to Hogwarts.
He was a king with unfinished business.