The room erupted into a flurry of whispers, gasps, and incredulous stares.
Petunia clutched her hands like it could anchor her sanity. "Vernon... did you.. hear that? He's talking about... about uniting—everything!"
Vernon, still half-processing, muttered, "I... I think we underestimated our son, Petunia... This is terrifying.." His words trailed off as his jaw tightened.
Sirius, however, leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, a gleam of barely contained excitement in his eyes. "Finally. Someone actually thinks big. I've been waiting for this moment my whole life."
Dan muttered to Emma, his voice incredulous. "Emma... our daughter is best friends with this kid? We thought Hermione was clever... but this... this is beyond clever. He's trying to... build an empire. A... freaking empire!"
Emma shook her head, brows knitting. "I can't believe what I'm hearing Dan. If this is a dream than it's a very scary one.
Across the room, Daphne and Pansy were whispering fiercely, Pansy's father nodding along with her ideas while her mother looked both bemused and worried. "He's… terrifying," Daphne murmured, eyes wide.
Pansy nodded, "I told you he was... you were too busy fangirling over him..."
Luna, ever serene, tilted her head. "It's like watching Wrackspurts organize a council. Chaotic, confusing... yet somehow it makes perfect sense."
The Weasleys were practically vibrating in their seats. Ginny covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, while Ron muttered, "I… I can't even keep up with what he's saying. One minute it's cars and watches, next it's a… a global clan?"
Percy, twins and Bill stood absolutely still in their chairs, their brains unable to process what was happening in front of them.
And Harry, oblivious to the storm he'd stirred, began levitating additional charts and diagrams around the room, each one detailing preliminary roles, potential assets, and future ventures. "Okay," he said, tapping a floating graph that animated itself mid-air, "so if we're going to get started, here's what I envisioned for the initial structure. Elder board here, operational leads there, real estate management in this sector, and yes—cafes, clubs, everything else on the other side."
Everyone blinked, mouth open, barely able to keep up as colorful graphs, animated buildings, and floating arrows whipped past their faces. Tonks ducked instinctively when a holographic skyscraper spun in her direction.
Edmund finally spluttered, "He... he can't possibly think we'll—"
Xenophilius leaned forward, squinting at the animated potions and industry charts. "He's… he's mapped every detail. Every risk. Every supply chain. I've never seen such foresight."Pandora just shook her head, bemused, whispering, "I don't know if I should be impressed… or terrified."
Harry, noticing their hesitation, leaned forward and tapped one of the animated graphs. The chart expanded, zooming into the first of his business plans.
"Food industry," he said casually. A miniature animated restaurant appeared, bustling with tiny chefs and waiters. "We start here. High-end cafes, bakeries, franchises—locations in muggle and wizarding districts. Marketing will be magical, literal and metaphorical. Brand loyalty guaranteed."
Daphne's mother leaned forward, lips pursed. "That… that's actually plausible."
"And this," Harry continued, flicking his finger, and a floating vial exploded into a hundred shimmering mini-potions, "medical industry. Healers, clinics, supply chains for both mundane and magical medicines. Logistically sound, scalable—profitable."
Even the skeptical Ron couldn't help but murmur, "Blimey… he's actually thought of everything."
Harry didn't pause, pointing at a spinning cityscape. "Real estate. Renovations, leasing, flipping properties—strategically placed. Wizards and muggles, high-end and mid-tier, diversification ensures safety. If one market dips, others stabilize the portfolio."
Everyone blinked together. They all had the same question in their mind. Who in the hell was this terrifying young man in front of them?
Harry tapped again. Potions, manufacturing, luxury imports—all came alive, spinning, resizing, and illustrating supply chains, revenue projections, and expansion strategies. "Everything considered: risk management, exit strategies, contingencies. It's all here."
Adorabella's hand flew to her mouth. "I… I don't know if I can even criticize this. It's… flawless."
Percival's jaw had tightened, but he nodded slowly, a grudging respect creeping in. "If this… this twelve-year-old is correct, we'd be fools to dismiss it."
Sirius grinned, slumping back. "Told you, Vernon. Genius. Absolute genius. He's building an empire—and he's doing it by the book… or rather, by his book."
Vernon could only nod as he came to the conclusion that he had severely misjudged and underestimated his son. Harry was not a monstrous businessman. He was literally the word personified.
Dan Granger's eyebrows shot up. "And the potion industry? That's… well, if he's mixing magical and muggle business models… he could corner the market before anyone even sees it coming."
Harry, noticing that even the most hesitant were now leaning forward, smiled faintly, tapping the final floating diagram. "Exactly. This is why I wanted everyone here. Not just to join, but to contribute. Pureblood knowledge, muggle strategy, magical assets—all of it pooled together. No gaps, no single point of failure."
Andromeda and Ted exchanged glances, both silently calculating what joining could mean. "He's twelve?" Ted muttered, disbelief creeping in.
Edmund and Adorabella leaned into each other. "It's chaos," Edmund said, "but the logic… somehow, it works." His wife nodding in agreement.
Molly clutched Arthur's sleeve. "Is this even... safe? Is it legal?"
Arthur, wide-eyed, only managed a weak chuckle. "Safe? Maybe. Genius? Definitely."
Harry let the floating diagrams spin lazily in the air, as if granting the room a brief pause to digest everything that had already happened. He finally lowered his gaze, sweeping across every set of bewildered, stunned, and intrigued eyes.
"Now," he said, tapping a particularly large graph that expanded into a holographic city, bustling with magical and muggle energy, "I've got a lot more plans. All of them. I'll share the details only with those who choose to join, of course. But that's not even the main point."
Every head in the room leaned slightly forward, curious despite themselves.
"The main point," Harry continued, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made everyone unconsciously straighten in their seats, "is why we're making this clan at all. It's not about power, it's not about replacing anyone. It's about adding boosters to the world—innovation, resources, infrastructure, everything—so that no one has to die of hunger or disease. So that opportunity, progress, and protection aren't privileges for the few—they're guaranteed for everyone we can reach."
He paused, letting the idea sink in. Some nodded slowly, some blinked, still trying to wrap their minds around the scope. Harry tapped another floating chart, and it exploded into animated examples: clinics opening in villages, schools expanding magically and mundanely, automated production lines blending wizarding and muggle techniques.
"But," Harry said, his tone sharpening, a subtle chill weaving into the warmth, "this clan is not something that replaces the current powers. If all we do is substitute the old for the new and let society stagnate… then I will raze it to the ground myself. No compromises. No debates. No one—including my friends, my family—will stop me, and I won't care."
A ripple of silence passed through the room. Everyone understood. Even without the words, the weight of his warning was crystal clear. This wasn't a casual business meeting. This was a moral and strategic ultimatum.
He softened slightly, though, his voice returning to calm assurance. "That said, no one is being forced to join. This is entirely your choice. No pressure. No guilt. No hard feelings if you step away. But if you do choose to join… then we build something that could change the world. Together."
The room stayed quiet for a long moment, each family processing the scope, the stakes, and the subtle threat lurking beneath Harry's words. Eyes flicked from one to another—Petunia and Vernon exchanging glances of cautious calculation, Sirius smirking with barely contained excitement, Molly biting her lip nervously, Dan and Emma whispering urgently, the younger generation wide-eyed but fascinated.
Harry's eyes scanned the room, lingering on each face, gauging their reactions. The weight of his words had hung heavy in the air, and for a long moment, no one dared move. Then, almost imperceptibly, Dan Granger lifted a hand.
"I… think it's worth trying," he said slowly, glancing at Emma. She smiled tightly, a mixture of apprehension and pride, and raised her own hand.
One by one, the others followed.
Percival Parkinson's hand went up, Adorabella nodding beside him. Xenophilius Lovegood's finger twitched in assent, Pandora giving a small, bemused smile. Arthur and Molly Weasley exchanged a glance before both raising hands, the twins practically bouncing in their seats, Bill sitting straighter than usual. Andromeda raised her hand, so did Edmund.
Vernon Dursley, after a long pause, lifted his hand stiffly, Petunia beside him following reluctantly but resolutely. Even Sirius, who had been leaning back with a grin all along, waved his hand theatrically.
Among the younger generation, Ginny, Ron, Luna, Abigail, Daphne, Pansy, and Astoria raised their hands in unison, some with giddy enthusiasm, others with cautious excitement. Tonks tapped her chin thoughtfully before lifting her hand, while Harry's gaze lingered on each raised palm, a faint, approving smile tugging at his lips.
Literally everyone had raised their hands saying that they wanted in.
Finally, Harry gestured at the floating whiteboard. "Perfect. That's our starting point. Everyone in… everyone committed. And I promise you, what we're about to build will be worth every ounce of effort, risk, and sleepless night. We're going to make a world no one thought possible—and we're going to do it together."
Harry's finger tapped the floating whiteboard again, and the animated vault appeared in mid-air, shimmering and gleaming as if real. "Alright," he began, voice calm but carrying a subtle edge of command that made everyone pay attention, "first thing we do, everyone. We make a separate vault. Doesn't matter whose gold it is, whose assets—everything we pool for the clan will go there."
He waved a hand, and the vault animatedly split into compartments labeled with each family's name. "But—and this is important—we don't dump it all at once. That draws eyes. Slowly, strategically, over this year and the next. Incremental. Discreet. Safe. This is the foundation."
Harry swiveled slightly, his gaze sweeping across the room, ensuring every eye was on him. "Second—our living arrangements. Originally, I thought the Dursley Mansion would be perfect, yes, it's massive, familiar, convenient—but bigger is better. That's why Moonstone Dunvegan will be our headquarters. It's got space, privacy, room for everyone to work, eat, live… dream. You'll still hold your own estates, of course. None of that goes anywhere. But imagine this—everyone together, meals in the morning, discussions in the dining hall, evenings in the lounges, celebrations… It'll be phenomenal."
He tapped the animated map of Moonstone Dunvegan, and a miniature hologram of the estate appeared, floors, rooms, gardens, and sprawling dining halls spinning slowly. "You can move in slowly, one family at a time. You can move in fully. Or… not at all. Not a single soul will be forced. I know letting go of the house you grew up in isn't easy. It's your choice. The house you grew up in matters—but so will the mornings we all share here."
Tonks tilted her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "Meals with all of us? That's… ambitious."
Harry chuckled lightly. "Ambitious? Maybe. But worth it. I want this to feel less like a clan in the traditional sense and more like an organization—a company where everyone is both shareholder and employee. Everyone contributes, everyone benefits, everyone has a say. No overlord, no singular name dominating the rest. It's a collective… a true collaboration."
Ginny leaned forward, eyes shining. "So… it's like we all own it together?"
Harry gave her a small nod, tapping a spinning chart showing projected schedules, responsibilities, and shared resources. "Exactly. Ownership, responsibility, loyalty. But not chains, not pressure. This is our venture. Build it, live it, share it, grow it."
His finger hovered over the animated whiteboard, spinning tiny holographic emblems for emphasis. "Alright," he said, eyes glinting, "we need a name for our clan."
Immediately, everyone erupted. Voices overlapped:
"The Concord!""The Ascendants!""The Unity!""The Vanguard!""The Collective!"
Harry let the flurry of suggestions crash over him for a moment, nodding thoughtfully at some, shaking his head at others. Then, almost imperceptibly, he closed his eyes for a brief second and flicked a mental nudge toward the twins using Legilimency.
"Say… The Nexus."
The twins' eyes widened, then smirked in unison. They leapt to their feet. "We have it!" George announced. "The Nexus!"
Fred and George grinned at each other, perfectly synchronized mischief in their stance.
The room fell silent for a beat, then slowly, one by one, heads started nodding. The name resonated—sharp, commanding, hinting at connection, convergence, and power. Even Petunia and Vernon, who rarely shared enthusiasm for Harry's ventures, found themselves nodding along.
"The Nexus it is," Harry said, tapping the whiteboard. Animated beams shot out from the word, connecting tiny family emblems and rotating industries around it. "Perfect. Now we move on to subgroups. Division of labor. Specializations. Efficiency."
He snapped his fingers, and the whiteboard listed the first group: Jinx – Real Estate.
Harry looked over the assembled adults. "In this group, we have—" he pointed methodically, "Mr Greengrass. Mr. Parkinson, Mr. Granger and Mr. Tonks."
Dan immediately raised a brow. "Wait. Real estate? Me? Why am I in charge of real estate?"
Percival, smirking slightly, leaned back, folding his hands. "And do tell me your reason for choosing me as well!"
Harry turned to Dan first, his voice calm, almost clinical. "Mr. Granger, accounting skills. I noticed the subtleties—your ledgers, your attention to margins, your subtle calculations while talking the car back today. You're perfect for overseeing financials."
Dan's jaw dropped. "You… how… how did you even—?"
Harry's eyes never wavered. "Observation, subtle hints, and patterns. You leave traces without realizing it."
Then Harry turned to Percival. "And you, Parkinson household. Real estate flows through your veins. Your family built empires on properties, estates, investments. You're a natural."
Percival chuckled, shaking his head. "And how exactly did you learn about that?"
Harry's face was impassive, unwavering. "History. Public records, archives, journals. I read the history of the Parkinsons."
Pansy's eyes went wide, jaw dropping. "Wait… what? You read our family history?" Her voice was a mix of awe and horror. She hadn't even read her own family's background and Harry casually knew it all.
Ted Tonks and Vernon simply exchanged glances—one incredulous, the other grudgingly impressed. Dan, meanwhile, looked like his brain had just short-circuited.
Harry tapped the animated charts again. "See? It's not arbitrary. Everyone's here because their skills and backgrounds make them ideal for what they'll handle. The Jinx group will make sure our real estate operations run smoothly, finances are tight, assets are optimized, and our holdings expand without gaps. The rest of the subgroups will follow the same logic. Each of you contributes what you are inherently best at—skills, knowledge, influence. Together, The Nexus becomes unstoppable."
Harry swiveled back to the floating whiteboard, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Next up," he announced, tapping a holographic vial that burst into a shimmering cascade of tiny potions, "The Sage. Medicine and potions. This group will oversee health, magical therapeutics, and elixir production. Members: Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Lovegood, Mrs. Granger, and Mr. Lovegood."
Molly and Pandora exchanged looks, eyebrows raised. "Wait," Molly asked, voice incredulous, "why us in this group?"
Harry's eyes settled on her calmly. "Mrs. Weasley, you. Potion mastery. Mrs. Lovegood, same reason. The recipes, the techniques—subtle, precise, effective. Both of you are unmatched when it comes to crafting potions and elixirs."
Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny immediately erupted into chaos. "Since when was Mum a Potion Master?!" Ginny practically shouted.
"Yeah! We've seen her try to brew polyjuice… she almost turned Percy into a pineapple!" Fred added, shaking his head.
"Or tried to make me a love potion once," Percy muttered bitterly, still scarred by the memory.
Harry's expression never wavered. "Every time I've been over at your house," he said slowly, "I've noticed a faint smell—ingredients only a true potion master could use. Strongest when near Mrs. Weasley herself. The same smell—distinct, unmistakable—when I entered this room and noticed on Mrs. Lovegood."
Molly's eyes widened, mouth dropping open. Arthur blinked several times, as if trying to process the statement. "Wait… you mean… you actually knew that?" Arthur asked, bewildered.
"Yes. I knew," Harry replied evenly, as though this was the simplest fact in the world.
Pandora raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. "I am a certified potion master, yes. But I must admit, you're correct about the subtle strength in skill, Molly. Your craft rivals most masters I've met."
Molly's hands flew to her face. "I… I never… I mean… I never thought anyone noticed! And you—this is ridiculous! How in the hell did you notice the smell?"
Harry replied sheepishly, "I have a sensitive nose. I can tell you literally every perfume everyone is wearing her tonight..."
Fred and George practically choked on the air, eyes widening. "What?! He can smell perfumes too? That's… that's insane!"
Ginny buried her face in her hands, trying to hide a laugh. "Of course he can… why am I not surprised?"
Molly, still gaping, shook her head. "A sensitive nose… twelve years old… and you've been quietly noticing everything?"
Harry shrugged, flipping a floating diagram with his finger. "It's just observation. You notice patterns, smells, habits… you learn things." He smirked faintly. "Plus, I have to keep track of all of you somehow, or this whole clan idea falls apart before it even starts."
Arthur muttered under his breath, still staring at the floating cauldrons, "I swear, this boy… he's not a child. He's a walking, talking, calculating… phenomenon."
Fred leaned toward George, whispering, "I think we just officially lost the 'kid' in Harry Potter. He's… he's scary-genius-level now."
George nodded, eyes still wide. "Yeah… scary and brilliant. And possibly smelling our socks right now too."
Harry chuckled, "You aren't wearing any..."
"You smelt that?" Fred jumped up from his seat.
"No, I noticed it when you sat down." Harry laughed.
Fred froze, jaw dropping. "You… you noticed that before we even sat down?!"
George snorted, trying to hide his grin. "That's… that's creepy genius-level, Fred."
"Yes, anyway, moving forward!" Harry said as he turned to the white board. "The sage will be helped by Ginny, Abigail, Daphne, Pansy and Luna. They know how, you guys can discuss it later!"
Harry's finger tapped the floating whiteboard again, and a cascade of miniature cafes, bakeries, and clubs sprang to life, spinning and whirling in mid-air. "Next up—the Aether," he announced, voice brimming with barely-contained excitement. "Food and service. Everything from restaurants, cafés, and clubs to catering for special events. You guys are in charge of making sure everyone eats well, enjoys themselves, and that our operations turn a tidy profit while doing it."
Petunia, still clutching her hands nervously, blinked. "Wait—me? Managing food and service?"
Harry smiled calmly. "Exactly, Mum. You've got the organizational skills, and I trust you'll make sure everything runs smoothly. Plus, your attention to detail is perfect for maintaining high standards."
Sirius leaned back with a grin, clearly entertained. "Well, I suppose I can handle a club or two."
Adorabella Greengrass raised a brow, crossing her arms. "And me? Why am I in this group?"
Harry's eyes sparkled. "Adorabella, your maiden family were involved in the food business. The grace, the efficiency, the eye for presentation—it's in your blood. You'll be perfect here."
Mrs. Parkinson stepped forward, chuckling lightly. "And I? Why am I a good fit?"
Harry glanced at her with a faint, mischievous smile. "You have a patissier's touch. Every movement, every gesture—it's in the way you handle things with such precision and elegance."
Pansy's jaw dropped. "How the hell did you know that? You've never been to our house!"
Harry tilted his head sheepishly, shrugging. "I saw the grace in your mother's hand when she brushed a strand of hair from your face once. That subtle motion… told me everything I needed to know."
Pansy blinked, utterly flabbergasted, while Mrs. Parkinson laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "Well… I can't argue with that."
Adorabella blinked, a mix of shock and incredulity on her face. "Wait… wait a minute. You… you actually know about my side of the family? How… how is that even possible?"
Harry leaned back slightly, tapping the floating whiteboard casually. "After meeting you and your family in Romania, I did a little… research. Studied your family history, the blood curse, notable ancestors. I needed to understand the context as to how the blood curse came into existence"
Pansy's eyes went wide, her hands flying to her mouth. "You... you studied their family history as well? All of it? At twelve?"
Harry nodded not understanding what was so huge about that, "Yeah? Is that weird?"
"Are you not listening to yourself, you bumbling baboon?" Pansy snapped back.
Harry just shrugged, "I don't see how me knowing the history of the families here, makes me a bumbling baboon..."
Pansy threw up her hands in exasperation, eyes flashing. "Because—you're twelve! And you've somehow memorized every detail about every single one of our families, their businesses, bloodlines, curses, and you're expecting us to just—what—follow you into some mega-clan like it's a game?!"
Harry tilted his head, genuinely confused. "I mean… yeah? That's kind of the point. Knowledge is power, right? The more I know, the better the clan can work."
Petunia sighed and patted the shoulder's of Pansy who was white and still as a statue, "Leave it dear, even I can't handle his brain and behaviour sometimes and I raised him."
Every other girl came to her comfort and sat her down, patting her, with a sigh.
Harry clapped his hands, breaking the tension in the room. "Alright, now that we know who's in which group for the food, medicine, and real estate, it's time for the next subgroup—Tempest. This will be the group responsible for magical artifacts, brooms, any kind of magical appliance or muggle appliance. Basically, anything that moves, flies, or sparkles."
He turned to the obvious members, levitating a small diagram of floating brooms and enchanted gadgets. "This group will include Mr. Weasley, Vernon, myself, and of course, the twins. You all agreed, right?"
The four nodded in agreement at once and Harry turned back to the white board, "Now that that's done with, we should make this official."
He turned to the whiteboard and tapped it once more. The floating diagrams faded, leaving only a single glowing parchment handing in the air—thick, new parchment glowing with faintly.
"This," he said, his voice quieter now, "is how we make it official."
The parchment unfurled itself, revealing lines of magical script. Names shimmered along the margins waiting to be filled. In the center was a sort of a sigil of interlocking circles—the word Nexus appeared inside the interlocking circles in front of their eyes.
"It's a..." Harry started and then paused, "well... I don't know what to call it. I guess you can call it the Clan Document or something?"
"So basically, it's just a binding document. Not a blood oath or an unbreakable vow; it's not something that chains you. It's a magically witnessed agreement. You sign it with intent, and the magic records your signature. It recognises contribution and rights but doesn't trap you. Anyone can leave—your name will fade off if you withdraw and clan plans will be wiped from your memory if you withdraw formally. But as long as you're signed, you're counted as part of the Nexus."
Arthur leaned forward, eyes wide. "Where did you find something like that?"
"I didn't," Harry said simply. "I made it after I got back home—bits of goblin contract law, bits of some runes and some conditional memory charm and voila!"
Pandora's eyes widened. "You... made this?" she breathed. "A fully functioning magical accord?"
Harry nodded in confusion, "Er... yeah? Took me about 10 minutes, but I assure you it's quite foolproof and safe!"
"I just didn't want to depend on Ministry or Gringotts for something this big." He added quickly.
Percival's sighed, "Ten minutes?..." he whispered, staring at the glowing sigil. He was beginning to understand his daughter's fascination with this boy. "Do you even know how much time it takes certified enchanters to craft something like this?"
Harry blinked. "Is.. ten minutes bad? Did I take too much time?"
Everyone stared back at him in disbelief. This kid made a magical artifact in ten minutes but is asking if he was slow in crafting it? Was he okay? Did he hit his head somewhere?
Sirius barked a laugh. "Merlin, kid. Bad? It's terrifying."
Petunia rubbed her temples, and so did many others in the room. "Sometimes I forget that he is not normal... How did I raise him I wonder"
Harry gave a half-shrug, "I will try to be faster next time." Still thinking that everyone was shocked by how slow he was, not understanding that he did months of work in mere ten minutes.
A low ripple of laughter and incredulous groans went around the room. Daphne's father leaned over to Percival and murmured, "I'm beginning to think the boy isn't entirely human." Percival only nodded slowly, still staring at the sigil.
Harry cleared his throat. "Anyway. This isn't meant to scare you. It's meant to make sure no one else can pry into what we're building. No leaks, no spies, no Ministry claws. But you're free to leave whenever you like — no curse, no vengeance."
The parchment pulsed softly, tiny quills appearing in the air, each one tagged with a name.
"This is the part," Harry said quietly, "where you decide. No pressure. If you don't want to sign, you don't. No one here is going to hate you for it. But if you do… Nexus begins."
For a heartbeat, nobody moved. Then Vernon Dursley pushed back his chair, walked to the floating parchment and took his quill. His hand trembled just slightly, but he signed. His name blazed gold and settled into the script; a faint pulse of magic rippled out like a heartbeat.
Sirius whistled low. "Always knew you'd be first, Vernon." He sauntered up next and scrawled Sirius Black with a flourish, grinning at Harry as the glow deepened.
One by one, the adults began to rise: Petunia, Dan and Emma exchanging a look before stepping forward; Pandora and Xenophilius, Andromeda and Ted, Percival and Amaryllis, Adorabella and Edmund. Each name burned briefly, then settled.
Even the children, after exchanging glances, moved up to add their names below their parents'. Fred and George signed at the same time and the sigil shivered with a playful spark, as if recognising mischief.
When the last quill vanished, the parchment rolled itself into a glowing scroll and drifted into Harry's hands. The interlocking circles in the centre pulsed once, twice, then steadied — the symbol of the Nexus alive and humming.
Harry looked up at the faces around him — excitement, disbelief, determination mingling. "All right," he said softly. "We're official. Welcome… to the Nexus."
Silence settled for a heartbeat, heavy with meaning.
Bill cleared his throat. "Okay… now what?"
Harry blinked. He stared at Bill dead-on, green eyes unreadable for a long moment. The room collectively leaned in, expecting some brilliant, chess-master plan.
"I don't know?" Harry said at last, voice cracking just a little. "Whatever you were doing before coming here, I guess?"