Date: October 14th, 1991
Location: Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch
The stands around the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch roared like a dragon's heart. It was the first official match of the season: Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. The air crackled with magical anticipation as red-and-gold banners clashed against green-and-silver streamers, wind whipping through enchanted silk and hair alike. Students from every house sat bundled in school cloaks and house scarves, but none were more radiant, more eye-catching than the bound of Harry Potter.
Elana stood at the forefront, her cloak shimmering with the ancient sigils of the Royal House of Peverell. Around her, Katarina, Ahri, Mizukume, Poison Ivy, and the rest of the girls stood in elegant magical regalia that announced to the school, and to the world, that Harry was theirs and they were his. "I feel like I'm going to burst," Hermione whispered, her gloved hands clutched together. "Why am I nervous?"
"Because you know what this means to him," Sue Li said softly, eyes scanning the pitch. "This is where Harry shines." High above them, Madam Hooch's whistle screamed across the field. The players soared into the sky. Harry flew like a shadow cast by light. The Nimbus 2000 was an extension of his body now, its sleek frame gliding through the air like a living thing. His robes flared behind him, and the sun glinted off the Soul Stone nestled beneath his collar, hidden, yet pulsing with warmth.
"I've never seen anything like it," Alicia whispered in awe from her broom beside him. "Not even Charlie Weasley flew like this." Angelina gave a sharp nod as she barrel-rolled to intercept a Bludger aimed at Harry's shoulder. "We've got your back, love," she shouted, swatting the iron ball away with force that sent it spiraling toward a terrified Slytherin Beater.
Katie pulled alongside him, hair streaming behind her like wildfire. "You look incredible up here," she grinned. "Try not to catch the Snitch too fast. I want a chance to show off." Harry laughed softly, heart swelling. "I'll give you five minutes," he smirked. "After that, I'm going hunting."
From the stands, Daphne watched with an unreadable expression, her eyes narrowed but lips softly parted. "He's not just flying," she whispered to Pansy, "he's becoming the sky." Pansy's arms were crossed but her foot tapped anxiously. "And people called us ambitious for bonding with him…" Then everything changed. A shrill zing cut through the air, followed by a cry of warning. A Bludger, glowing with green runes, shot through the air like a cursed meteor, directly at Harry.
"What the bloody hell?" Angelina hissed, diving in a blur of motion. "I've seen enchanted Bludgers before," Alicia growled, her eyes flashing. "This one's not student work. It's Dark." They didn't need a second warning. Both girls launched after the cursed Bludger, weaving and twisting through enemy Chasers to shield Harry.
Down in the stands, Hermione gasped. "Something's wrong with his broom," she said, voice cracking. Katie's shriek echoed from above. "Harry, your broom's jerking!" And it was. Harry's form wobbled in the air unnaturally as the Nimbus twitched under him like it had been hexed. Hermione turned sharply. Her eyes locked on Professor Snape, murmuring under his breath, not blinking, staring directly at Harry. "No," Hermione whispered. "Not him." She pulled her wand. "Lacarnum Inflamarae!"
A small fire burst to life at the hem of Snape's cloak. Students screamed. Snape jumped to his feet with a curse, batting at the fire. The broom continued to twitch. But then something impossible happened. The fire jumped, leapt from Snape's cloak across the air, and landed on Professor Quirrell's robes with a hiss and flash of vengeance.
The man shrieked in pain, falling backward as flames danced over his arms, legs, and backside, his turban knocked askew. The jinx on Harry's broom died instantly. And somewhere in the whispering aether of the magical world, Lady Magic herself chuckled softly. "I saw it," Dora muttered, mouth agape. "It skipped Snape entirely, like it knew Quirrell was the one doing it." Ivy nodded beside her, face calm. "Magic always protects its chosen."
Back in the sky, Harry stabilized the Nimbus with a growl. "I'm fine," he said, loud enough for his teammates to hear. "Going for it." His eyes locked onto a flicker of gold. There, the Snitch, hovering just above the Slytherin goalposts. He leaned forward. The Nimbus howled beneath him. Slytherin's Seeker dove too, but he may as well have been chasing a ghost.
To the students below, Harry became a silver blur, a comet trailing fire. "Come on, love, catch it, !" Hermione screamed. "Go, mate, tear the sky apart!" Susan cried out. Katie soared beside him for a second, grinning wildly. "You've got this!" Then she banked away just as Harry reached out, his fingers closing around the Snitch as his broom looped into a tight corkscrew dive. The whistle shrieked across the field. "GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
The stadium exploded with sound. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie landed first, whooping and twirling in midair as they dropped to the grass. Harry touched down a heartbeat later, panting slightly, smile blooming across his face. Before he could say a word, Katie tackled him, arms flinging around his shoulders.
"You did it!" she laughed, eyes dancing. Harry grinned. "Couldn't have without you three, ", She kissed him. It wasn't chaste or shy. It was joyful, triumphant, full of fire and wind and the rush of the win. Her lips pressed into his like she had been waiting years for that moment, and around them the world spun in golden threads. "Mine," she whispered against his lips, "Yours always," he answered. In the stands, Draco seethed. He'd tried. The enchanted Bludgers hadn't been enough. Quirrell's curse hadn't worked. But the sight of Katie kissing Harry in front of the school? It made his teeth grind. Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the din with laugh while saying, "Mr. Potter, Miss Bell, kindly save that for after class!" Katie just giggled, kissing Harry again on the cheek.
Later that evening, while the school still celebrated in the common rooms, Professor Quirrell was discovered unconscious outside the Great Hall, groaning as Madam Pomfrey summoned a stretcher. "Third-degree burns," she muttered. "Both legs, right arm, and… heavens, even his buttocks." As he was carried away, eyes rolled back, not a soul in Hogwarts missed the way his burned robes smoldered faintly, with fire that had not come from Hermione's wand alone. No one said it out loud, but every one of the Bound knew that Lady Magic had taken sides and will do anything to protect her chosen.
Date: October 20th, 1991
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts
The Great Hall buzzed with life. Platters shimmered with steaming lunch offerings, and enchanted banners rippled along the stone walls, house colors gleaming. It was another crisp autumn afternoon at Hogwarts, golden sunlight pouring through the high windows and casting long shadows over the bustling tables. Laughter and chatter filled the air, until one voice rose above the rest, sharp and sour like spoiled pumpkin juice.
"You think you're better than the rest of us, Potter?!" Ron Weasley's voice cut through the air like a badly cast Severing Charm. Conversations halted mid-bite. Heads turned. Harry, seated at the Gryffindor table with Hermione, Daphne, Sue Li, and several other Bound, looked up slowly, eyes calm and voice smooth. "Is there something on your mind, Ron?"
Ron stood at the head of the Gryffindor table, his cheeks crimson with fury. "Yeah, there is! You're no better than a Slytherin snake! You and your bloody harem, flaunting your fame and your wandwork like it makes you someone special. You're using Dark Magic to control them all!"
Gasps rippled across the hall. Daphne's jaw clenched. Hermione's fingers twitched toward her wand. Sue Li sat forward, her eyes cold as ice. From the Hufflepuff table, Dora dropped her fork with a metallic clatter.
"And what would you like to do about it?" Harry's voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. His gaze locked on Ron's like a frozen blade of steel. "If you've got something real to say, Weasley, then say it with your wand. I accept your challenge."
Flitwick, who had been eating at the head table, stood immediately and levitated his stool aside with a flick of his wrist. "Very well," he said in his light but commanding voice. "As per the Duelling Club Charter, I will officiate. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, take your places."
A dueling circle shimmered to life at the center of the Great Hall. Lady Elana herself walked gracefully to its edge, murmuring in an ancient tongue as she raised magical shields of golden light around the floor, securing the duel against misfire and interference.
As the students and staff shifted into position to watch, Ron stomped forward, wand drawn, face burning red and fists clenched around his battered wand. Harry walked in silence, his eyes unreadable. His left hand touched his robes, and the hall gasped as his triple wand holster, sleek, black leather with gold trim, resting against his ribs like a Muggle tactical rig, was revealed when he brushed his cloak aside.
Ron scowled. "What, you need three wands to beat me?" Harry didn't respond. He simply stepped into place, gave a small bow to Flitwick, and waited. "Begin!" Flitwick called. Ron struck first, furiously and without hesitation, shouting, "Confringo! Stupefy! Densaugeo! Locomotor Mortis!" The air filled with multicolored lights.
But Harry didn't even raise his wand. He batted the spells away with the back of each hand, his fingers flicking the air like a conductor slicing through music. Each spell collided against the dueling barrier and shattered harmlessly in a cascade of sparks. A backlash of golden and silver magic flared around Harry, rising like a halo of coiled storm energy.
Then he moved. A flick of his right wrist and his primary wand slid into his palm, 11 inches, Elder and Holly, Phoenix Feather and Heartstring of an Ancient Dragon, its handle sculpted like a silver and gold dragon's head. Magical pressure flooded the hall.
"Expelliarmus. Incarcerous." Both spells came out non-verbal. Ron's wand flew from his hand like a leaf in a gale. Magical ropes snapped around him, yanking him upward by the ankles until he hung suspended from one of the enchanted torches above the Slytherin table, his shirt riding up, his face redder than a Hungarian Horntail's breath. The Hall was silent. Then a long, sharp whistle broke the stillness. It was Dora. "Well, that was satisfying."
Hermione stepped beside Harry, arms crossed, her tone cool. "You keep accusing Harry of being dark, Ron. But all I ever see is you throwing tantrums when someone's better than you." Daphne's lips curled in amusement. "And let's be honest, if Harry were dark, you'd be ash on the floor by now."
Sue Li tilted her head. "You challenged him. You humiliated yourself. We're proud to be a part of something bigger. Maybe if you stopped chasing shadows, you'd see that too." Lavender stood up from the Gryffindor table, flipping her hair. "Next time, Ron? Duel your jealousy. Might make good practice."
As Flitwick awarded Harry a rare Duelling Ribbon for Composure Under Pressure, the Charms Master's eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Mr. Potter… that wand. And… is that a triple holster?" Harry gave a soft smile and nodded. With a fluid motion, he re-sheathed his primary wand and then drew the other two, offering them hilt-first to Flitwick. "The second," he explained, "is eleven inches. Holly, Phoenix Feather, silver and gold phoenix-head handle." Flitwick's eyebrows shot up. Harry smiled faintly. "The core was gifted. From Fawkes." Flitwick's asked in surprise "And the third?"
"Rosewood. Eleven inches as well. Twin Veela Hairs… one from Fleur, one from Gabrielle. Silver and gold Harpy Eagle head handle." The hall was stunned silent. Even Snape's sour glare had faded into a calculating stare. As Flitwick held the Veela wand reverently, he murmured, "You carry three wands, bound by fire, blood, and soul. And wield them as though they were extensions of your own will."
Harry nodded. "Each one connects me to someone I love." Elana stepped beside him then, lifting her hand and cupping his cheek gently. "And every time you raise one, love answers the call."
Ron stayed dangling above the crowd for ten more minutes before Elana snapped her fingers, dropping him gently, though unceremoniously, into the nearest cauldron of mashed potatoes.
Date: October 22nd, 1991
Time: 10:00 AM
Location: Classroom 3C (formerly used by Professor Binns), Hogwarts Castle
The air in Classroom 3C felt strangely charged, as if the stone walls themselves were holding their breath. Rows of first-years, a mix of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins, filled the seats with quiet curiosity. The usual droning ghost of Professor Binns was conspicuously absent. Whispers drifted from student to student, wondering what could possibly be more mind-numbing than another monotone tale of goblin rebellions. But when the door glided open and Lady Elana Hogwarts stepped through, the room seemed to hum.
She wore an elegant blouse and skirt, tailored in the subdued academic fashion of 1991, but lined with subtle silver runes along the cuffs and collar. Her long dark curls were pinned up in a simple twist, her emerald eyes calm, and the golden band on her left wrist shimmered faintly as she walked. Students stiffened in their seats as a hush fell over the room, the only sound the steady click of her heels across the stone floor.
"I am Lady Elana of the House of Hogwarts," she said softly, her voice carrying easily to the back of the room, rich with warmth and quiet power. "Today, with Headmaster Dumbledore's permission, I will be sharing the history your usual professor no longer remembers."
From the front row, Harry offered a small smile, seated between Hermione, Daphne, and Sue Li, with Poison Ivy sitting silently in a back corner, her presence undeniable even without speaking. Elana gave Harry a knowing glance, her voice softening just slightly.
"I am here today to speak of the Soul-Bond, the oldest form of magical connection, one forged not with parchment or blood oaths, but with truth and spirit." Elana began at the beginning.
"In the Age Before Wands," she said, her hand brushing across the air, and the space before her shimmered to life in silvery illusion, "there were only raw forces, magic, nature, and heart. Great creatures walked the Earth, guiding the first witches and wizards not with commands, but with understanding. Kitsune. Dryads. Dragons. Spirits of the Flame and Tide. And among them… were the First Bound."
The image shifted to four glowing figures, two men, two women, standing in a circle of ancient forest, magic swirling between their hands. "The Founders were not only partners in creation, they were bound, each to another, and to one they shared in common." She paused, her emerald gaze sweeping the room. "They were one soul in five parts. Their legacy… was Hogwarts. And a prophecy."
As the enchanted classroom darkened, a single sentence echoed in a language older than any modern tongue. The magic translated it for each mind: "When the Crowned Flame rises amid the broken and bound, the Circle shall gather, and magic shall live anew." Murmurs broke out instantly. "Crowned Flame? That's gotta be Potter," came form Draco, "Circle, like a Soul Circle?" caome for a Gryiffendor, "He has twelve…no, wait, fifteen girls! No, more" came from Ron who was a little Green at the tought, "Did you see the one with green skin in the back?!" came form a differnt Student as she remember Ivy form the green house.
Harry simply exhaled slowly and met Elana's gaze. She gave him a small smile, then turned back to the room. "Let us test that theory."
With a wave of her hand, she conjured Soul-Reactivity Charms, simple golden flames that hovered over every student's chest. The reaction was instantaneous as Hermione, Daphne, Sue Li, Parvati, Alicia, Katie, Pansy, Cho, Penelope, Susan, Lavender, Padma, Angelina, and others all burst into warm, radiant glow. But what shook the classroom further was that several non-human students seated in the back rows, Ahri, Katarina, Poison Ivy, Mizukume, flared with dazzling arcs of wild magic.
Then…Two blue flares of pure Veela fire appeared mid-air beside Harry. "Apologies for the sudden entrance, but we could feel the call."" Fleur said with a grin, her elegant voice unmistakably French and commanding.
Gabrielle, her younger sister now the same age as Harry due to magical maturity, stepped close and smiled. "It was… impossible to ignore." Half the classroom fainted from the overload. Draco Malfoy made a strange hiccuping sound and simply collapsed sideways off his bench, eyes rolled back into his skull. As if that weren't enough, Ron groaned. "Oh, Merlin, not more, " before vomiting an arc of rainbow across the floor… and directly onto Draco's prone form. Elana didn't flinch.
"These flames," she said calmly, as she gestured toward the reacting Bound, "represent threads of fate woven through time. You have witnessed Soul-Bond reactivity at its peak. Rare. Ancient. Powerful. These flames do not lie. They burn only when called by truth."
The room sat in stunned silence as Fleur and Gabrielle each kissed Harry on the cheek, warm, familial affection that made his Bound grin proudly. Then, just as easily as they arrived, both girls Apparated away in tandem, their flames dissipating as they vanished from view.
Grand Entrance Hall, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic – Seconds Later
Madame Olympe Maxime waited in a regal sky-blue robe, her towering frame graceful as ever. When her two students reappeared in flashes of soft flame, she gave a relieved sigh. "I felt your magic vanish from the grounds, my little stars. Was it the Bound Call?"
Fleur nodded and explained briefly. "A class on Soul-Bonds, Elana was lecturing at Hogwarts. We…could not resist as the bound call for us." Gabrielle added, "We stayed only for the moment of truth. It was important."
Maxime smiled, stepping forward to smooth Gabrielle's hair with maternal care. "As long as you return to me safe, I will never deny you the pull of your bond. You are his, and he… is the Le Prince Enflammé. The Flaming Prince." She looked out across the corridor. "The others will learn tonight. Those without Veela blood should still be told what they've become." Fleur gave a warm nod. "They deserve the truth of what happened will Happen in the furture."
Back at Hogwarts, students sat speechless, flames still hovering. Elana folded her hands behind her back as she glowed form the Soul-Reactivity Charms showing her connection to husband that is in the room with er. "Now then," she said with a knowing smile, "shall we move on to the quiz?" ignoring Ron and Draco who are moaing in pain and discomfort.
October 24th, 1991
Time: 1:15 p.m.
Location: The Magical Creatures Enclosure, Hogwarts Grounds
The sun was barely overhead when the fourth-years of all Houses and the sixth-year electives class assembled on the open field behind Hagrid's hut. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and the faint singe of spellfire from prior demonstrations, but none expected today's lesson to stray from the norm. At least, not until Hagrid, flushed with nervous pride and wringing his massive hands, announced they would be witnessing a defense simulation using a docile, staff-controlled manticore, a rare opportunity, even by Hogwarts standards. Students murmured with excitement, but beneath the surface, the staff knew this was a controlled step in evaluating Harry's magical growth, particularly the magic of his bloodline.
"I still think this is a bad idea," Dora muttered under her breath, her Auror trainee badge gleaming against her robes. Hermione, standing beside her, gripped her wand tighter. "Love'll be fine. He's got this," she insisted, but the worry behind her eyes was mirrored in every bound mate's gaze. Even Lady Elana stood by silently, arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable. As the great beast was summoned through a controlled gate of shimmering blue magic, its hulking form stomped into view, looking far less 'controlled' than Hagrid had promised.
The simulation lasted exactly two minutes before it went wrong. A surge of wild magic, possibly drawn to Harry himself, snapped the enchantments anchoring the manticore's will. It roared, tail lashing as venom hissed from the spines on its stinger. Students screamed and scattered as the manticore turned, locked onto Harry like a predator finding its prey wounding a frist year girl as it does. "No!" Angelina shouted, charging forward, but Hermione caught her arm, whispering in stunned awe, "He's… changing, meaning he will be ok."
Muscles tensed and bones cracked in rapid succession, golden light flaring around Harry's form. His body exploded in size and strength, not just a lion, but the lion: the Nemean Lion of ancient myth, reborn in shimmering gold, its mane glowing with an inner fire. The air trembled as Harry roared, a sound like a storm breaking across mountains, deafening and divine. The manticore collapsed in a heap, unconscious before it ever reached him. When Harry shifted back, standing shirtless and breathing hard, he moved without a word to kneel beside a wounded first-year girl, cradling her gently onto his back.
No one spoke as he strode across the field, robes in tatters, blood running down one arm, but posture proud and calm. Behind him, his bound followed in silent procession, Dora, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan at the front, flanked by Padma, Katie, and Cho. Even Snape who was watching with his wand still out, stood frozen, mouth slightly agape. Harry's golden eyes, still glowing faintly from the transformation, met him with quiet authority. "She'll be alright. Get Madam Pomfrey."
October 24th, 1991
Time: 9:02 p.m.
Location: Royal Suite, Founders' Wing, Hogwarts
The air was heavy with unspoken fear. Not of Harry, but of the idea that they had come so close to losing him. Hermione sat closest to the hearth, knees drawn to her chest, while Lavender and Sue cuddled on the same sofa, tear-streaked and quiet. Tonks paced the length of the room like a caged panther, her fists clenching and unclenching. It was Elana who broke the silence first. "You were born of gods, husband…but what they saw today was a king's courage."
"I'm still just me," Harry said softly, eyes sweeping over them. "Still your mate… your love." But he could feel it, that lingering panic, that sense of something primal now waking with him. Wordlessly, he stepped back and let the change overtake him.
Where moments ago stood a boy, now there curled the same mighty golden Nemean Lion, fur glowing like starlight. He rested his massive head on the velvet carpet, a gentle huff of breath fogging the air. One by one, they came to him, Hermione first, her trembling fingers brushing his mane, followed by Dora, laying her head gently on his side. Sue curled at his flank, and Parvati nestled against his warm belly. Even Pansy, normally too proud, slid close and rested her hand against his heart until all of the bounded in the room layed agest the Nemean Lion.
That night, wrapped in golden warmth, not one of them dreamed of fear. And when Harry awoke just before dawn, his arms full of sleeping girls and his heart beating with quiet, feral certainty, he finally understood: the Nemean Lion wasn't just power. It was protection. It was them.
October 27th, 1991
Time: 11:47 p.m.
Location: Western Grove Clearing, Forbidden Forest
The moonlight pierced through the trees in slivers of silver, painting the dark woods with an otherworldly glow as Harry stepped over the threshold of the forest's enchanted boundary. There had been no letter, no message, only a whisper deep in his chest, one not in words, but in instinct. Come. His body answered before his mind could process it. His pulse thrummed like ancient drums, magic thick in the air as he walked deeper into the forest, drawn to something older than Hogwarts, older than wandlore… older than time itself. When the wind shifted and the leaves rustled with a ripple of golden light, he understood: Lady Magic had called him.
His body moved on its own as warmth rushed through his veins, the fox within uncoiling like a storm stretching after centuries of slumber. Harry barely had time to gasp before the transformation overtook him, bones reshaping and skin alight with radiant energy. His clothes dissolved in a shimmer of foxfire as fur as black as the night sky with golden patterns of swirling runes rippled across his body. Standing nearly as tall as Hagrid's hut, the Nine-Tailed Fox of legend stood in the heart of the forest, his nine tails curling and fanning with a grace that defied physics. His green eyes, glowing like emeralds touched by starlight, scanned the woods, and then widened.
One by one, they arrived. Hermione emerged first, barefoot and in her nightdress, her brown curls wild in the wind. "I felt you, love," she breathed, before falling to her knees as golden fire wrapped around her. Her scream was of pain and joy as she transformed into a smaller Nine-Tailed Fox, sleek and brown with white-tipped ears and a knowing gaze. Then came Dora, stumbling with her Auror badge still pinned to her half-buttoned shirt, her smile wild. "You beautiful bastard, you pulled us into this, didn't you?" she laughed, just before foxfire claimed her too. Then came Susan, Daphne, Penny, Angelina, Katie, Alicia, Cho, Padma, Parvati, Lavender, Sue, and Pansy, each drawn by the same whisper of soul-deep calling.
And from the treeline beyond, Mizukume and Ahri stepped out of the shadows in their true, fully-formed Nine-Tailed Fox bodies, their silken fur aglow with pale moonlight. No words were needed, only understanding. Fourteen witches and two magical fox spirits now circled Harry in a wide glade that shimmered with divine energy. Tails brushed, and eyes met. Then, without command, they ran. Together. A storm of foxfire and grace, streaking through the forest with laughter and howls and song on the wind. Trees bowed in reverence, and forest beasts scattered in awe.
When the Banshees came, twisted things of shadow and ice, the foxes did not hesitate. Hermione lunged first, her form glowing with raw defiance. Dora struck next, tails blinding with silver light. Together, they formed a wall, and Harry leapt through them, his nine tails curling around the dark spirits and scattering them with a single roar. The forest rang with power, not of destruction, but of unity. Of belonging. Of bound souls protecting what was sacred.
When the last echo faded, they returned to the glade, breathless and glowing. One by one, they circled Harry's massive form, their fox bodies curling into his tails like stars finding orbit. Hermione, closest to his heart, raised her snout and said softly, "We are yours, and you are ours… in every form." The glade shimmered gold, and Lady Magic herself whispered across the air: It is done now rest my chosen.
October 28th, 1991
Time: 1:04 a.m.
Location: The Forbidden Glade, Deep Forest
Fourteen foxes lay curled around the largest of their kind, the grass beneath them glowing softly in warmth and moonlight. The night air was cool, but none of them shivered, not wrapped in the embrace of magic and love. Harry's eyes slowly drifted shut as he rested his chin across Hermione and Daphne's backs, while Dora and Pansy curled along his left side. Penny and Susan twitched softly in sleep near his flank, and the Patil twins mirrored one another with eerie grace. Above them all, the stars watched in silent reverence. Tonight, they had not just run. They had become one.
October 30th, 1991
Time: 8:16 p.m.
Location: The Northern Bank of the Black Lake, Hogwarts Grounds
The sky shimmered in hues of midnight blue and velvet black, the stars glowing more clearly than usual, as if they, too, had come to witness the quiet gathering by the lake. The wind was gentle, cool, and laced with the smell of pine and water, and every step Harry took toward the ritual glade felt as though he were walking deeper into a dream. At the center of the clearing stood a circle of soft moss, bordered with river stones enchanted by Elana herself to pulse faintly with their shared soul magic. Lanterns hovered around them, glowing with golden firelight that never flickered, never dimmed. The Bound waited for him, already arranged in a loose arc beneath the trees, cloaks wrapped close and eyes shining with anticipation and warmth.
"I knew you'd feel the pull," Hermione said with a soft smile as Harry approached, her hand reaching for his instinctively. "Of course I did," he replied, brushing her knuckles with his lips. One by one, each witch stepped forward and presented a small offering, something personal, simple, but filled with meaning. Dora gave him a charm she had carved into the hilt of her backup wand: the Auror symbol intertwined with a veela flame. Sue offered him a folded piece of parchment with a story she had written the day they first kissed. Alicia handed him a crimson ribbon from her first Gryffindor Quidditch match, enchanted to never fray. Each gift was placed gently on a shallow stone altar beside the lake, where the full moon's light bathed them in silver.
Then came the last offering, not from Hogwarts, but from across the sea. A swirl of moonlight descended onto Harry's palm, revealing a delicate, hand-shaped Veela pendant that shimmered like captured moonlight. From it, Gabrielle's soft voice echoed, musical and clear. "We are watching the stars with you, always." Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist as Harry held the pendant close to his heart. "They feel everything we do," she whispered, her eyes misting. "Even across the ocean." Harry nodded slowly, the Soul Stone beneath his shirt glowing gently in response. "They're part of this too," he murmured. "Even if they're far."
As the gifts were sealed into the ritual stone with ancient magic, Lady Elana stepped forward, her silver eyes glimmering. "It's time," she said softly. With a breath that stirred the wind, Harry stepped into the center, closed his eyes, and shifted. First came the Fox, sleek and radiant, nine tails curling in grace and flame. Hermione approached first in her fox form, pressing her forehead to his in her smaller fox form. "You are my mind," she whispered, and her tail twined with his. Then came the Lion, golden and mighty, a roar held silent in his chest. Angelina and Daphne circled him, hands stroking his mane. "You're our protector," they said as one. The Wolf followed, lean and sharp-eyed, eyes glowing green in the dark. Dora stepped forward this time, pressing her hand to his snout. "You're our flame," she said fiercely. "And I'll always burn beside you."
The last form was the Red Stag, tall, proud, crowned with antlers that shimmered with starlight. Susan and Padma each stepped forward and gently laid their hands on his flank. "You're our heart," said Susan. "And our guide," added Padma. One by one, the rest of the Bound came forward to touch his forms, to speak their truths, to honor the bond not just of soul, but of the many selves that made Harry whole. Ahri and Mizukume lingered at the edge of the circle, tails brushing lightly through the grass, whispering to one another in ancient language. Ivy stepped away from the group and placed her hand to the earth.
"I feel something," she said, her voice low, troubled. "Something that will slither through the walls on Halloween night. Something hungry." The others grew quiet. Mizukume's ears twitched. Ahri's eyes narrowed. "Then we reinforce the suite," Ahri said firmly, looking at Dora. "Runes, mirrors, fire wards, whatever we have." Hermione looked at each of them, eyes lit by courage. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."
Time: 11:41 p.m.
Location: Ritual Circle, Black Lake
The air was still now, filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the subtle hum of soul-bonded magic. In his fox form once again, Harry lay curled in the middle of the circle, all fourteen of his witch-bound nestled close within the curl of his tails of his nine tail fox form. The moonlight bathed them in silver, each girl glowing softly with the warmth of their shared connection. Words had been spoken, promises made, truths revealed. But now, only the silence of love remained, the kind that needed no voice.
And as the stars glittered above them and the lake lapped gently at the shore, the Bound slept in peace. It would be the last full night of calm before the darkness stirred.
October 31st, 1991
Time: 7:34 p.m.
Location: The Great Hall, Hogwarts Castle
Pumpkins floated above in eerie orange light, flickering with warm candlefire that danced over shadowed walls and tables laden with food. The Great Hall buzzed with Halloween cheer, laughter, and the shuffle of robes and forks as students enjoyed the themed feast, roasted bat wings, sugar-coated pumpkin seeds, spider-shaped biscuits, and charmed candied apples that wiggled. Yet among the merriment, eyes were drawn again and again to the center of the Gryffindor table, where Harry Potter sat, utterly focused on a meal that seemed more suited for a hungry troll than a teenage wizard.
"I don't know how you're even breathing, love," Dora whispered from across the table, watching in half-horror and half-amusement as Harry devoured the second of two massive, 42-ounce flat iron steaks. "Because magic flows stronger today," Harry mumbled between mouthfuls, "and I'm still growing into it." The steak was joined by a heaping bowl of garlic mashed potatoes, steaming hot and thick with butter, then another full bowl of roasted Brussels sprouts laced with bacon and herb oil. The final dish was a massive wedge salad drenched in sharp blue cheese dressing, crunchy and tangy with every bite. Even Katarina, seated in her human form nearby, blinked and swallowed, one clawed hand over her mouth. "I'm a dragon, and that's still disturbing," she muttered.
Harry's body thrummed with latent power, he could feel it down to his core. His muscles ached with slow expansion, his skin warm beneath his shirt as Lady Magic's flow reached its peak on this sacred night. When the last bite was finished and his fork clinked against the bottom of the salad bowl, Harry sat back and exhaled deeply. The table around him had gone quiet, with the nearby Gryffindors, including Seamus, Dean, and even Fred and George, watching him with awe and a touch of disbelief. Katie chuckled low under her breath, brushing his arm. "You just ate more than a troll feast. Proud of you, sweetheart." Harry smirked. "Still hungry."
But the moment shattered when the doors to the Great Hall slammed open and a figure stumbled inside, robes billowing. Professor Quirrell, pale and shaking, stammered through the high-ceilinged room, "T-Troll, in the dungeons!" His voice cracked as he shouted again, louder. "Troll, in the dungeons, thought you ought to know!" Then he promptly collapsed in a dramatic faint face frist, causing several younger students to scream and clutch their tablemates.
Panic erupted like wildfire. Chairs scraped, students shrieked, and food clattered to the floor. Dumbledore rose, wand raised. "SILENCE!" The hall fell quiet, breath held in collective tension. "Prefects, lead your Houses back to their dormitories. Teachers, follow me to the, "
"No," Harry said, rising to his feet with a force that quieted even the staff. His voice, deep and calm, echoed off the stone. "As lord Hogwarts, I must remind you all that the Slytherin dormitories are in the dungeons. And the Hufflepuff common room is near the kitchens. If those trolls are in the lower halls, you're sending them straight into danger." All heads turned toward him, just as a brilliant pulse of ancient power lit the center of the hall. Elana appeared beside Harry, face serious.
"It is not a troll," she declared. "It is two mountain trolls, unbound, wild, and outside the Great Hall even now."
Before anyone could move, a deafening crash split the air. The massive oak doors of the Great Hall exploded off their hinges and flew across the flagstone floor. Two mountain trolls, towering and monstrous, lumbered into view, each carrying crude stone clubs the size of tree trunks. Students screamed and ducked under tables. Teachers raised their wands, until another roar split the hall. But it did not come from the trolls. It came from Harry.
Flames flared around him as his form shimmered, twisted, and rose. Bones lengthened. Muscles surged. Fur and horn burst from skin as Harry became something far older and more powerful than any student, or professor, had seen. A Minotaur of legend, twelve feet tall and covered in sleek, dark brown fur, now stood in the center of the Great Hall. Ancient Greek armor, polished with modern silver and red paint with Hogwarts logo on the clung right peck of the armor, to his broad chest and shoulders, though his hooves struck sparks against the floor and his head was unhelmed, revealing the gleaming horns of a war beast. A low, thunderous snort echoed as his glowing green eyes locked onto the trolls.
Katarina stepped forward, casting a flaming barrier between the students and the beasts. "I'll hold them.." she began, only to pause in stunned awe as Harry moved faster than even she could track. A blur of motion, hoof and horn, strength and fury, struck like lightning.
Harry met the first troll head-on, dodging the heavy club and lifting the beast bodily off the ground with a single, explosive charge of his shoulder. It slammed into the wall with bone-cracking force. The second troll roared and swung, but Harry was faster. He twisted, grabbing the arm, and with a roar of ancient strength, threw the creature across the room, shattering a column and burying it in rubble. With a final stomp, he stood between the two downed monsters, snorting steam through his nose.
Elana raised her hands, murmuring softly in the language of the Founders, and golden chains of binding magic erupted from the air itself, locking around the trolls' limbs and pinning them to the floor. The hall was stunned.
Harry shifted back slowly, his armor vanishing, body returning to its normal height. But not quite as it was. The moment he stood again, shirtless and heaving for breath, it was clear something had changed. His torso had broadened further, muscles thickening across his shoulders and arms. He looked down in surprise and flexed. "I gained ten pounds of muscle?" he muttered in disbelief. He now weighed 165 pounds, 125 of it pure muscle.
And for the first time, everyone in the Great Hall could see the Soulstone of the Bound. It hung over his bare chest, a radiant heart-shaped yellow diamond glowing like captured sunlight in a hybrid silver-gold setting. The platinum chain shimmered in the torchlight, and the ancient runes around the gem pulsed like a heartbeat.
Gasps swept the room. None more stunned than Ron and Draco, whose eyes bulged at the sight of Harry's sculpted body and the stone at his chest. "What, what the hell is he?" Ron whispered. "A king," Daphne said from the Slytherin table, voice proud. "My husband," Elana added coolly, arms crossed beside Harry. "And Lord of Hogwarts." And in the echo of stunned silence, Harry simply stood tall, unchallenged, unbroken, and forever changed.
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Note from Author: comment your thoughts on the bashings and just deserts of both Ron and Draco so far, if I'm giving out the right kind of bashings and just deserts, or if you had more ways of doing them, and your kind of ways of doing it. Lastly tell me how many bashings and just deserts there were in total for the two and separate for the two, the last part is just letting me know that you have read the book up this point and let me know how the changes I made for the chapters are doing for the flow of the book and if I sould keep doing it.