Point of View: 3rd Person (Dialogue in 1st Person with Emotion)
Date: Monday, September 2nd, 1991
Time: 06:12 AM (First Morning at Hogwarts)
Location: Founders' Royal Suite, Hogwarts Castle
The morning light filtered gently through the enchanted windows of the Founders' Royal Suite, casting golden rays that shimmered across the polished stone floor. Soft beams drifted over velvet drapes, glinting off the polished gold trim of ancient woodwork and making the ambient enchantments woven into the stone subtly pulse with life.
In the largest chamber, where the heart of the soul-bonded family had come to rest the night before, the world was still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, All but one, Harry James Potter was already awake.
He sat for a moment at the edge of the bed, his chest bare, the early morning breeze brushing lightly across his skin from an open window. At the center of his chest, over his heart, the Soulstone of the Bound pulsed softly...a deep amber-gold light like the heartbeat of something ancient and eternal. The gem shimmered against his lightly tanned skin, framed by lean muscle and a frame that had matured well beyond his years. At 5 feet 6 inches, weighing 155 pounds, his 115 pounds of muscle and only 40 pounds of fat gave him the body of a young warrior...not bulky, but chiseled, honed, defined.
As he rose, Harry moved with quiet discipline, crossing the suite with bare feet until he stood before his wardrobe. A clean undershirt lay folded at the top. He drew it on slowly, the Soulstone vanishing beneath the fabric...its warmth still felt against his skin. Next came his formal uniform.
This wasn't a standard Hogwarts school robe, no, this was the Lord's Uniform...commissioned in secret, enchanted by McGonagall herself and fitted by the royal tailors under Elana's supervision. The uniform bore Gryffindor's crimson and gold proudly as its base, but woven seamlessly throughout the lining and threading were the blue of Ravenclaw, the yellow of Hufflepuff, and the green of Slytherin...not in bold patches, but as flowing threads of unity, designed to be seen only by those who truly looked.
Over his shoulders rested a formal cloak bearing the sigil of Hogwarts itself, subtly trimmed in gold thread that shimmered only when touched by natural light. He secured his wand holster beneath the jacket right where he put his three wands, And then came his combat boots, which are Thick-soled, polished, laced tightly to the knee, their matte black surface bore subtle runes woven into the leather...symbols of protection, endurance, and resolve. These were not for show. These were boots made for walking into fire for the ones he loved. A symbol of discipline, a promise of action.
Harry stood before the full-length mirror. His jaw tightened slightly...not out of pride, but purpose. He looked…ready, A voice stirred behind him, "You stand tall, boy," came a warm rumble, Harry turns to the voice to find Godric Gryffindor's portrait, now lit by dawn's glow, was watching with pride. "Your ancestors would be proud."
"And so am I," added Helga Hufflepuff, smiling fondly. "The Soulstone pulses with harmony this morning," Rowena Ravenclaw's portrait shimmered softly as she leaned forward, her features solemn. "You've done what even the greatest could not. You returned what was lost. My Diadem… is pure again." Her voice grew warmer. "And for that, I thank you, Lord Hogwarts," Salazar Slytherin, ever silent, gave only a nod. But that alone was meaningful.
Harry bowed his head slightly to them all. "I didn't do it alone. I never could. They… the Bound… gave me the strength," The portraits said nothing...but they approved.
The suite stirred with quiet movements. Blankets shifted. Pillows were pushed aside. Murmured voices filled the air, Hermione yawned softly, eyes fluttering open as she stretched beneath the sheets. "Mmm… you're up already, love?"
"I wanted to greet the dawn," Harry said with a smile, helping her sit up, Dora was next, rubbing her eyes and blinking at the light. Her hair was still a wild mix of lilac and pink, but it settled quickly to auburn as she slipped from the bed. "Figures. Our little general's always on his feet before sunrise," Susan rolled over, then groaned into her pillow. "Too early… too much ceremony yesterday…"
"You slept through the hardest part," Mizukume teased gently, her eyes already glowing in the light as her tails twitched from her place by the fox, who was still dozing nearby.
Across the suite, the others began to rise...Katie and Alicia untangling their limbs from each other, Cho wrapping a light silk robe over her nightgown, Daphne checking her wand holster with military precision, and Parvati brushing her hair with practiced ease. Even Pansy had a sleepy smile as she whispered good morning into the link before slipping into the bath chamber with Padma and Sue Li following after.
Soon, boots were laced...female military combat boots, identical in cut to Harry's but tailored for each of the Bound. Their school uniforms matched their houses...but there were subtle additions: enchanted rings, thin bracelets of House alloy, and of course, the Bands of Eternity on each of their left wrists, glowing with faint magic in the early light.
Ahri knelt beside Harry as he pulled on his gloves. "You look like a King," Harry replied with a small grin back to Ahri, "I look like your mate, that's more important."
"Careful, love," she whispered, lips brushing his ear, "or I'll drag you back into bed before the castle wakes," Katarina, fully dressed in her formal robes and boots, barked a soft laugh. "He's stronger than that… barely," the suite rang with the sound of muffled laughter, combs brushing through hair, boots hitting stone, and the unmistakable magic of a day about to begin.
Time: 07:53 AM
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts Castle
The Great Hall, now fully awake with the light of morning filtering through its enchanted ceiling, had returned to its usual hum of activity. Yet even amidst the casual chatter of hundreds of students, the presence of Harry and the Bound still hung in the air like lingering incense...calm, undeniable, and commanding respect.
Long wooden tables were now lined with silver platters and steaming dishes. Hogwarts' famed Welcoming Breakfast had been laid out in full, and the smells drifting through the air were enough to silence even the most nervous first-years.
There were golden stacks of toast, lightly buttered and crisp at the edges. Piles of perfectly scrambled eggs sat beside dishes of fried potatoes, roasted sausages, and seared ribeye steaks...rare by most school standards, but clearly summoned in honor of the day. Thick-cut bacon strips, lightly glazed kippers, and bowls of fresh fruit dotted the tables, surrounded by silver pitchers of milk, coffee, pumpkin juice, orange juice, water, and other drinks chilled by floating cubes of enchantment-forged ice.
At the center of the hall, seated at the symbolically placed chair between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, Harry James Potter sat with ease, already carving through a breakfast more suited to a young warrior than a student. On his plate layed: Two perfectly seared ribeye steaks that is thick and still sizzling slightly, A trio of fried eggs that is cooked medium, A generous serving of fried potatoes that seasoned with rosemary and black pepper, Three strips of thick-cut bacon, and Two large kippers, glistening with lemon butter.
Beside his plate sat a silver goblet, from which Harry calmly drank fresh cold milk. His eyes swept the room slowly, observing…not in judgment, but as one who had already come to understand how fragile the balance of power and perception could be within a school that housed both children and legends.
To his right, Elana watched him with quiet pride, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her staff beside her chair. The other magical creatures of the Bound…Ahri, Katarina, and Mizukume…shared a private plate, feeding one another with idle amusement as the enchanted air whispered softly around them.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione picked at her fruit and toast while reviewing the previous day's spell index from her own annotated planner. Beside her, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia were already halfway through their first plates. Parvati sipped orange juice, eyes dancing with excitement, while Lavender absentmindedly played with the strap of her wand holster, smiling dreamily toward Harry.
Ravenclaw's table was a mix of elegant quiet and sharp-eyed awareness. Cho was deep in conversation with Padma, while Penny Clearwater examined a small stack of parchment beside her toast. Sue Li finished off her second cup of coffee before straightening her collar and smoothing out her robes.
At the Hufflepuff table, Dora, seated with surprising stillness for once, drank from a steaming mug of black coffee, her Auror trainee badge clipped just beneath her cloak collar. Susan, beside her, happily munched on bacon and buttered toast, casting occasional glances toward Harry with pride.
And at Slytherin, there was subtle tension…but not from Daphne or Pansy, both of whom sat with composed serenity. It was the rest of the table…older students watching the two girls closely, uncertain whether to view them as allies, outliers, or something more dangerous.
As plates were half-finished and cups refilled, the sound of wings filled the air. Owls swept through the open windows high above, some delivering letters, others dropping rolled schedules bound in gold ribbon onto students' plates.
Harry caught his midair without looking. He unrolled it calmly, scanning the contents. "Elana," he said softly, "looks like we're starting with Transfiguration." Hermione turned in her seat just as her own schedule landed. "We've got it together, then," she said, brightening. "First double lesson of the day: Gryffindor and Hufflepuff."
Dora snorted, her coffee nearly spilling. "Brilliant. I'll have to keep Susan from hexing Zacharias if he opens his mouth again," Susan offered innocently, buttering a scone and said "I'll help," Harry checked the rest of the parchment. "Charms second period. With Ravenclaw."
Hermione leaned in. "That'll be with Cho and Padma, then," Elana smiled faintly. "It seems fate wants your Bound close to you today, Husband," Harry with a smirk, folding the parchment back and sliding it into the pouch at his side said "I'm not complaining"
At the staff table, Professor McGonagall nodded slightly, watching Harry as he shared a soft word with Hermione. Her eyes met Dumbledore's, who simply lifted his goblet in silent toast before drinking. "They look like officers," she murmured.
"They are," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Not by title. But by bond. They will lead this castle into an age it has not seen in a thousand years," and as the enchanted ceiling above them shifted into the full light of morning, casting warmth across the Four Tables and the Founders' restored pedestals, Harry Potter finished his breakfast and stood, his Bound stirred, sensing the change, The first class awaited.
Time: 08:22 AM
Location: Transfiguration Classroom, Hogwarts Castle
The warm light of morning spilled through the tall arched windows of the corridor as Harry and the members of his Bound from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff made their way from the Great Hall toward the Transfiguration classroom. Their boots echoed steadily along the stone floor, their movements in perfect harmony as they turned corners and passed through stairwells with the precision of a practiced unit.
There was no need for spoken words...only soft smiles and the unshakable feeling of connection. Hermione, always sharp-eyed and prepared, walked just to Harry's left, reviewing the finer points of basic switching spells in her notes. Dora, calm and collected, led the right flank beside Susan, who adjusted her robe sash as they entered the classroom hallway.
They arrived at the Transfiguration classroom precisely one minute early. The door was slightly ajar, and the sunlight through the narrow windows revealed a tabby cat sitting atop the professor's desk. Its square spectacle-like markings around its eyes and upright posture would have been unremarkable to most. But to the Bound, who were sensitive to deeper magical impressions, the power within the feline form was unmistakable.
Harry smiled slightly as they filed in and took their seats with practiced fluidity...Hermione, Lavender, Parvati, and Angelina taking the front row with him, while Susan and Dora calmly settled behind them. The tabby blinked slowly, then turned its gaze toward the door.
That's when it happened. The peace of the morning shattered. SLAM. The door burst open and in stumbled Ronald Weasley, face flushed, shirt untucked, and robes half-dragging behind him. Alongside him was a fellow Gryffindor boy...Seamus Finnigan...equally breathless and clearly unbothered by the late arrival.
Ron stopped abruptly upon seeing the cat on the desk. His eyes widened as his hand shot out to grab Seamus' arm. "That's a cat!" he blurted loudly. "Where's the professor?"
Before anyone could respond, the cat leapt gracefully from the desk, landing in front of the board...and in a shimmer of golden-white magic and swirling robes, Professor Minerva McGonagall emerged from the feline form in a flash of metamorphosis. The class gasped...except for Harry and the Bound, who remained perfectly still.
Ron, however, stood gaping. "Wha...You're an Animagus?!" Professor McGonagall's lips thinned with irritation. "Yes, Mr. Weasley," she replied sharply. "I am a registered Animagus. Something that will be covered in your fifth year." Her gaze narrowed, like twin daggers behind her glasses. "However, I expect students to arrive on time. Five points from Gryffindor." Ron sat down hard, grumbling under his breath.
She turned back toward the front. "Now then, where were we?" Her eyes lingered on Harry. "I was about to explain the nature of natural Animagi. There are rare individuals whose connection to magic allows them to assume Animagus forms without extensive ritual, often manifesting young. These individuals are still required to register under law, but they are... exceptional."
Harry raised a brow but said nothing. McGonagall continued, her tone precise. "Lord Potter, if you would demonstrate one of your registered forms, please." The class blinked, stunned. Harry stood with perfect ease. "Of course, Professor." He stepped into the open space between rows. With a deep breath, his body shimmered...bones shifting with a crunch of magic, skin flowing into fur, limbs extending and reshaping. Gasps filled the room.
Before them stood a Northwestern Wolf, towering at 7 feet at the shoulder, nearly 9 feet 5 inches in length, fur thick and silver with faint black streaks across the back and tail. The creature radiated sheer power...300 pounds of lean, deadly strength and primal grace.
The wolf turned his head, golden-green eyes locking with McGonagall's. His Bound remained calm and relaxed, unbothered by the transformation. Then, as if to further test her nerves, the massive wolf shimmered again...form folding in on itself and reforming into something even more mythical.
There was a whisper of reverent awe as a Nemean Lion appeared in the wolf's place...6 feet 6 inches tall, 5 feet 2 inches long, 300 pounds of golden hide and rippling muscle. Its mane burned like wildfire under the morning sun, eyes glowing faintly with a light that seemed too ancient to belong to a first-year.
No one dared move. Ron's mouth dropped open again. "He's a monster…" he mumbled bitterly under his breath. "Always showing off." Before Ron could voice anything further, Harry returned to his human form, fully clothed, unshaken. McGonagall inclined her head. "Thank you, Lord Potter." She turned to the rest of the class.
"Harry Potter is a registered Multi-form Animagus. This is extraordinarily rare. Most will struggle to learn even one form. But natural Animagi...those born with the magic attuned for transformation...can learn multiple with training and focus."
She said no more of it aloud. But in her mind, the rest lingered. His Bonded are the same... Every one of them. Born to magic. A convergence unlike anything I've seen.
The lesson continued, but the atmosphere had changed. While McGonagall began with the fundamental theory of Transfiguration, using matchsticks and needles as basic targets, the Bound completed each transformation swiftly, precisely, and without hesitation. Harry conjured a perfect silver needle before McGonagall had even completed the incantation's breakdown.
Hermione, Padma, and Sue Li performed precise wand motions with methodical excellence. Dora, even while barely trying, transformed two matchsticks at once. Lavender giggled as hers turned mid-air. Parvati twirled hers with a flourish afterward. Susan, calm and confident, leaned back after her spell succeeded. "Easy."
And then there was Ron. Frustrated, glaring, grumbling, and red-faced as his wand emitted only sparks. "Lucky freak," he muttered under his breath, loud enough for those nearby to hear. McGonagall's eyes snapped to him once more. "Mr. Weasley. Do you have something you'd like to contribute?" He looked up, startled. "I...no, Professor."
"Then do be silent until you have something of value to share. Perhaps less complaint, and more practice." The classroom shifted once more in energy, and this time it was clear...Ron Weasley had lost the room.
Time: 09:41 AM
Location: Charms Classroom, Hogwarts Castle
The Charms classroom was warm with morning light, the arched windows high above letting in soft beams that danced on ancient stone. Students from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were already filtering in, their footsteps a mix of eager and uncertain. Polished desks stood neatly in paired rows, each enchanted with minor cushioning spells and rune-etched insets that made writing charms easier to practice.
Professor Filius Flitwick, standing atop his small wooden stack beside the blackboard, greeted each student with a chirp and a smile. "Wands out and open minds today!" he called, his eyes twinkling.
As the doors opened wider, a shift in atmosphere stilled idle conversations, Harry Potter entered, his boots clicking softly on the stone. At 5 feet 6 inches, his lean, muscular form moved with quiet command. His tailored Lord of Hogwarts uniform, stitched with all four house colors but bearing Gryffindor's red and gold as the foundation, glinted subtly beneath the lights. The Soulstone pressed warmly under his shirt...hidden but alive.
He was not alone, with him walked his Bound, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati moved to sit beside him in the Gryffindor-aligned row of desks. Parvati and Padma, dressed alike in uniform, claimed a pair together with an elegant ease only twins possessed. Cho, always graceful, joined Sue Li, their expressions already focused as they readied their quills and parchment.
Harry took the center desk, his seat beside Hermione already pulled out for her. She smiled, grateful, and settled in with her notes. Lavender sat behind her, braiding her hair with one hand while gently humming.
Professor Flitwick clapped his hands. "Today, we'll begin with Wingardium Leviosa, the Levitation Charm! Simple in concept, tricky in practice."
The mood lightened. Quills danced, hands raised. Parchment fluttered, Until the door slammed open. Again…Late…Again, Ron Weasley stumbled through, flushed and breathless, muttering excuses about the stairs. A few giggled. Most didn't.
Flitwick frowned slightly. "Mr. Weasley, please take your seat quickly," Ron dropped into the nearest empty desk with a huff...just behind Hermione, It began subtle…A roll of the eyes…A mumbled word…Then the insult slipped through.
"Honestly, who needs to practice this much?" he whispered nastily. "Hermione, you're such a bloody know-it-all, always desperate to show off."
Hermione froze mid-motion. Her wand clattered to the desk, The silence that followed wasn't from the classroom...it was from inside Hermione, which was a flood of memories rose like bile: years of whispers behind her back, of children mocking her voice, her books, her muggle-born blood. "Freak." "Too smart." "Ugly little bossy boots."
She felt it all slam into her again, Before the Bound…Before Harry…Her lip trembled, "Hermione..." Lavender started, but the tears had already formed, but Hermione turned her face away, shoulders shaking, trying to stay silent. Don't cry. Don't let them see. Don't break...but she broke, Lavender reached forward, wrapping her arms around her. "It's okay, love. We've got you."
Harry didn't move, he didn't shout, he just simply raised his hand, palm forward...and with no wand drawn from his triple holster, cast the Levitation Charm…"Wingardium Leviosa."
Ron let out a yelp, as his body lifted off the bench...arms flailing wildly...as he rose straight into the air, robes fluttering, and with a flick of Harry's fingers, was slammed gently but firmly against the ceiling, where he stayed stuck like a badly placed painting.
The entire class froze, Professor Flitwick blinked rapidly, "Lord Potter what are..."
"He insulted my Bonded," Harry said calmly. "He's lucky I used a feather-light charm and not a wall. He will stay there until he's ready to act like a human being."
"I...I see…" Flitwick said, flustered but clearly not disapproving, and then, the air shimmered, as Elana appeared, stepping from thin magic like a veil parting. Her robes whispered across the floor as she crossed the room, "Hermione," she said, her voice velvet-soft, full of gentle sorrow. "Sweetheart."
Hermione turned in Lavender's embrace, tear-streaked, but her eyes widened as Elana knelt in front of her and gathered her hands, "You are strong," Elana whispered. "You were made to be loved. You are not that little girl anymore, my sister," Elana pulled Hermione forward into a warm hug, Harry's jaw was tight, his eyes still locked on Ron's squirming form, Flitwick cleared his throat. "Lady Hogwarts… I assume this is..."
"I was told," Elana said softly, not looking away from Hermione. "I came to comfort my sister. You may address the matter of the one on the ceiling with Harry," Professor Flitwick nodded solemnly. "Yes. That I will."
A moment later, there was a brilliant golden flash outside the classroom...followed by the sound of soft footsteps. The doors opened once more but this time both Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall entered…"Headmaster," Flitwick greeted, "Professor. We had an incident," Elana stood slowly with Hermione rising beside her now steadied.
Dumbledore's gaze swept the room. His eyes took in Harry's relaxed but dangerous stance, the glow of the Soulstone pulsing beneath his shirt, the suspended Weasley, and the quiet pain still visible in Hermione's face.
Minerva looked at Ron, then to Harry, then to Hermione...and her nostrils flared, Albus's tone was calm but firm. "Mr. Weasley will be removed from Charms for the remainder of the period. Professor Flitwick, would you see to that?"
"Yes, Headmaster," Flitwick said tightly, already raising his wand to release Ron...only for Harry to lower his hand and gently guide Ron to the floor again, still floating, then setting him down like a sack of potatoes, which Ron landed with a groan.
"I'm not touching him," Harry said coolly. "Not again. Not unless he insults one of my Bound," Minerva turned to Ron, her voice sharp. "Mr. Weasley, follow me. Now," Ron stumbled after her, eyes wide and face pale, unable to speak.
Dumbledore offered Harry a slow nod. "You handled with restraint," Harry replies without blinking, "I thought so," And then he turned, knelt beside Hermione, and kissed her forehead. "He doesn't get to hurt you again…Ever sweetheart."
Time: 10:38 AM
Locations: Empty Study Room off the Charms Corridor and Founders' Royal Suite, Hogwarts Castle
The door closed softly behind them, the sound far gentler than the emotions that still stirred in the room, the empty chamber was lined with old bookshelves and aged portraits of long-dead witches and wizards who now slumbered in their frames. A fire had been conjured by Professor McGonagall, crackling gently in the hearth as the only sound breaking the silence.
Harry Potter stood facing Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall across a conjured table that had more the feel of a command briefing than a disciplinary meeting, despite the soft light and quiet atmosphere, the tension was a living thing.
Harry's stance was controlled, but behind his posture burned the kind of focus that came not from anger...but from protection, "I didn't overreact," Harry said calmly. "And I won't apologize for defending Hermione," Dumbledore nodded slowly, his expression one of measured thought. "You acted quickly. Deliberately. Not without control," McGonagall folded her arms. "And with very effective wandless magic. That ceiling levitation was clean. Balanced."
"Because it had to be," Harry replied. "Ron wasn't just insulting Hermione. He was unravelling months..even years of healing. She was shaking, crying...what part of that was acceptable?"
"She's stable now?" McGonagall asked softly, her tone less stern than usual, almost maternal like one would find in a mother, Harry's voice dropped, the emotion surfacing in his chest. "Yes. Because her sisters surrounded her."
Right across the castle, within the walls of the Founders' Royal Suite, Hermione sat wrapped in a soft wool blanket on one of the wide reading couches, nestled between Susan Bones and Lavender Brown, both of whom refused to let her feel alone even for a second.
Dora, robes loosened and a hand resting comfortingly on Hermione's back, spoke calmly and gently, anchoring her like the professional she was training to be. "He doesn't define you, love. He never did," Penelope, ever the calming Ravenclaw, had conjured a glass of sweetened tea and placed it quietly into Hermione's hands.
From the other side of the room, Pansy leaned against the wall with crossed arms, her scowl aimed toward the far distance. "The next time he opens his mouth, I'll hex his tongue to the ceiling."
Angelina, Alicia, and Katie hovered close, unspoken fury in their eyes. Gryffindor may have been about bravery...but today it was about defense, Padma and Parvati, seated side by side, held hands tightly. Sue Li, on the floor with a soft conjured pillow, gently touched Hermione's wrist. "You don't have to say anything, Hermione. Just be. You're allowed to heal."
And then, the Soulstone pulsed, and through the glowing link, a voice hummed like warm silk across Hermione's mind, «Ma sœur (my sister)…breathe with me,» Fleur's voice was soft, melodic, soothing. «He cannot reach you now. You are surrounded by those who would burn the world for your heart. Let them hold you.» A second voice joined her...light and musical, «We saw what happened. And we are with you, always. You are never alone again, 'Mione.» ...Gabrielle
From their chambers at Beauxbatons, Fleur and Gabrielle had been watching through the Soulstone link, eyes closed and hearts connected, Hermione exhaled, tears slipping down her cheek...not from pain, but from release, "I know," she whispered. "I know I'm not alone anymore…thank you all"
Back in the study room, Harry's fists unclenched feeling the love flow through the soulstone, "I'm not going to pretend this didn't matter," he said firmly. "I won't tolerate attacks on my Bound...emotional or otherwise. If discipline is expected, let it be mine to carry. But I'll never apologize for being what they need."
Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, then inclined his head, "I understand, Harry," he said. "And you are correct. There will be no punishment. Not from us. You defended someone who carries not only your magic, but your soul. That is not a thing we take lightly…every as every single staff member know about a soul-bound and how important it is to people in it"
McGonagall let out a slow breath. "There will be inquiries. There always are. But I will handle the staff. And the student body will learn… quickly… that the Bound are not to be trifled with."
"She was bullied for years," Harry said, quieter now. "Before the Bound…Before me…This school may have rules...but my first law is family first aways." Dumbledore's eyes gleamed for a brief moment...perhaps with memory, perhaps pride. "You remind me more of your mother each day," Harry nodded once. "She died for love…for me, now I live by it…no I live for and by it," And in the silence that followed, the Soulstone glowed just a little brighter.
Time: 11:13 AM
Location: Dungeons – Potions Classroom, Hogwarts Castle
The cool, slightly damp air of the Hogwarts dungeons clung to the stone like old memories. The corridors here were quieter, dimly lit by slow-burning torches, their light flickering on the carved stone walls. It was here, beneath the castle's great belly, that Potions class would take place...a subject older than Transfiguration and more precise than Charms.
And waiting in that quiet room...walls lined with shelves of darkly shimmering jars and bottles...stood Professor Severus Snape, his black robes swirled around him, his expression unreadable, as he stood in the shadows between rows of empty desks, parchment already laid out in preparation for the first joint class of Gryffindor and Slytherin.
The silence broke with footsteps...measured, confident, Harry Potter entered the room alone. The click of his boots echoed softly through the stone chamber, Snape looked up, dark eyes narrowing...not in suspicion this time, but in cautious interest, "I needed a moment with you," Harry said quietly. "Before the others come." Snape didn't speak, but one eyebrow lifted in curiosity.
From his coat, Harry carefully pulled a magical photo...one unlike most. The silver-gilt frame shimmered, and the image within danced with golden light. It was a field of summer flowers, windswept and peaceful, under a radiant blue sky.
Snape's breath caught when he saw Lily...not a child, not a memory, but alive...walking through the field, her red hair dancing with the wind. Harry placed the photo gently on the desk between them. "She wants to speak to you…my mother," Harry said.
The moment the frame touched the desk, Lily Evans-Potter stepped forward in the image. Her eyes lifted, searching… and found Severus. "Sev," she said gently, Snape's knees nearly buckled as he spoke "Lily…"
For several minutes, the classroom faded away as he leaned forward. He didn't sit. He just stood there...drinking in the sight of the only person who had ever truly seen him before the darkness had taken hold.
They talked. The words were soft, inaudible to Harry, but the emotions were plain. Snape's head bowed twice. At one point, his shoulders trembled...once. And finally, he said quietly, "I'm sorry… for everything. I never forgot you."
Lily smiled in the photo. "I know, Sev. I never stopped believing there was more in you than you believed." She looked toward Harry, still visible in the background. "Thank you, sweet baby boy…for giving him this moment." Snape stepped back, struggling for a breath. "You...you gave me something I never expected, Potter…No Harry thank you for this moment" Harry nodded. "I gave you peace. She deserves to be heard."
There was a pause before he added, "I also came to tell you what happened in Charms. Hermione… she was attacked verbally by Ron again. She broke down. I levitated him to the ceiling until Dumbledore arrived." Snape didn't sneer…He didn't criticize…He merely said, "I see." Then, with more weight: "He's becoming a problem."
"I'll handle it if he steps out again," Harry said coldly, Snape nodded. "I'll….keep an eye on him myself. I may despise many things...but what I saw in Miss Granger… that I will not allow again. Not from him and Not from anyone as I know what it is like on both ends of a bully," Then, as if the moment never happened, Snape turned back to the parchment on his desk. "Take your seat, Hary…no Lord Hogwarts" he says with a smile, The door opens again moments later as Harry takes his seat.
The students of Gryffindor and Slytherin entered in scattered waves. Hermione and Lavender came in first, Hermione calm and composed, her hand brushing briefly against Harry's as she passed showing that she was fine. Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson followed with heads held high. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie took their usual seats, flanking Harry without hesitation. The quiet power of the Bound walked in with them, leaving a ripple of uneasy awareness in their wake.
The rest of the class sat in awkward clusters. Ron Weasley, red-eared and glaring, took a place in the far back corner, Snape's presence filled the room like cold mist.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving in this class," he said, voice low and exacting. "As there will be no idiotic incantations shouted like battle cries. I expect discipline, attention, and intelligence. If you lack these, I suggest you reconsider your future…as there will be jobs that will need this class for them"
Eyes flicked to Harry, Snape's dark gaze fixed on him, then narrowed slightly. "Now Potter…what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Without pause, Harry answered, "You would obtain a Draught of Living Death, Professor." There was a long beat of silence.
Snape's eyebrow arched. "Correct. Five points to Gryffindor." The room gasped. Even Pansy's eyes widened. Snape continued as if nothing happened. "Let us test this further…Potter if read the metiel form the book…where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar," "In the stomach of a goat, sir," Harry said evenly, "Correct. Five more points," Ron muttered something behind his hand, Snape's voice both sharpened and headed. "Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?"
"No, sir," Ron said through gritted teeth, Snape turned back. "And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane," Harry's green eyes didn't blink. "They're the same plant, sir. Also known as aconite."
Snape gave a slow nod, eyes narrowing to ron then back to Harry. "Correct again. Perhaps...the fame hasn't addled your brain after all Potter," From the corner, Pansy smirked proudly, her fingers brushing the Band of Eternity on her wrist, Harry gave no outward reaction...but inwardly, the link pulsed with calm strength.
The class passed quickly, with paired brewing of Simple Cure Draughts, and even Snape offered mild, silent nods toward Hermione and Daphne's perfect measurements and stirring rhythm eyes on hermione watching her for trema of the last class. Ron, unsurprisingly, scorched his cauldron's base.
Time: 12:55 PM
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts Castle
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall glowed with late-summer sunlight breaking through clouds, casting gentle golden beams across the four long House tables, all laden with a hearty lunch spread. Roasted chicken, honey-glazed ham, garden-fresh salad, thick wedges of bread slathered in soft butter, golden Yorkshire puddings, shepherd's pie, and creamy mashed potatoes waited alongside pitchers of pumpkin juice, cold milk, and freshly steeped tea.
Conversation buzzed throughout the hall...excited first-years comparing notes, upper years quietly swapping gossip about classes and teachers, and in some corners, whispers about Harry Potter and the strange but close-knit group that walked beside him.
Harry, seated near the end of the Gryffindor table, carefully cut into a piece of roasted chicken breast, pushing a dollop of mashed potatoes aside as he leaned slightly toward Hermione, who was reviewing the afternoon schedule.
"To think we've only had two classes today," she said, her tone low, thoughtful. "And already drama's followed us."
"I hate that it had to be you again," Harry murmured, his fork motionless for a moment. "You didn't deserve that, sweetheart." Hermione's lips trembled, but she smiled softly and bumped her shoulder against his. "I don't anymore. Not with you and the others here."
Lavender, sitting just opposite them, reached across and brushed Hermione's hand gently. "I swear, next time he opens his mouth like that, I'll hex him into next week. And I won't even pretend to feel bad about it." That made Hermione laugh, just a little.
A few seats down, Susan was balancing a cup of tea in one hand while explaining Potions theory to Katie, Angelina, and Padma, who all seemed to be listening while simultaneously stealing bites of lunch. Dora, seated at the Hufflepuff table with a direct view, gave a small wink when her eyes met Harry's, then returned to her conversation with Penny and Sue Li.
The table glowed with soft interactions, like threads of magic weaving between them all, quiet and subtle to the world...but vibrant to those who shared in the Bound's connection. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted slightly...just enough for Harry and Hermione to feel it immediately. The air around Harry's left side shimmered gently, the very space beside him warping as if pulling away a curtain. And then she was there. Elana, Lady Hogwarts herself.
She appeared in a flash of golden light, now fully visible between Harry and Hermione. Her form solidified with elegance, clad in the same regal version of the Hogwarts uniform she had worn during her first appearance before the Wizengamot High Court. Her skirt bore the royal crest of the Founders, the blouse trimmed in silver thread, and her cloak shimmered faintly with the four House colors intertwined at the edges.
Without a word, she gently reached out and took Harry's left hand, lacing her fingers with his. "Hello, Husband," she whispered softly, only loud enough for Harry and Hermione to hear. Harry smiled gently, bringing her hand to his lips in silent greeting. "Hey, love." Hermione looked between them and leaned slightly into Elana, who kissed the top of her head like an older sister.
"You're watching," Harry said knowingly. "I am the castle," Elana answered with a smile. "Always. Especially when one of ours is hurting." They shared a moment of silence together, not heavy or dramatic...simply warm and whole. Elana added gently, "You've handled this morning well, all of you. But don't let your guard down. Eyes are watching now. Some of them behind portraits…others behind orders." Hermione nodded solemnly. "We've been feeling it."
"We'll plan tonight," Harry said, not as a suggestion but as a quiet declaration. "Together. For now…just lunch." A voice from further down the Gryffindor table...Parvati, sitting beside Padma...piped up with a grin. "What's the plan for Herbology? Bet it won't be half as exciting as Charms."
"I'll take boring over drama for once," Alicia called back playfully, which drew laughs from the others. Elana leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to Harry's temple, and whispered, "I'll return to the walls, Husband. But I am always with you." With a flicker of golden dust, she was gone...leaving behind the faint warmth of her magic and the scent of blooming wildflowers.
Harry looked to Hermione and then across the room to where Dora had raised a brow in amused understanding, before returning to his now slightly-cool plate of roasted chicken.
Date: October 3rd, 1991
Time: 10:17 AM
Location: Greenhouses, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Professor Sprout's cheerful voice drifted through the morning mist as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years crowded inside Greenhouse Three. Rows of puffapods in bloom bathed the warm interior in a faint, pulsating lavender light, illuminating the curious faces of the young witches and wizards. Dirt-smeared gloves were donned, and excitement buzzed from the chatter of housemates eager for their first true magical herbology session.
Harry stood quietly near the center of the group, gloves already snug, his emerald eyes flicking across the various magical plants as Professor Sprout introduced each with enthusiastic detail. Hermione nudged him gently with her elbow, smiling up at him with affection sparkling in her gaze. "You'll enjoy this, love," she whispered with a grin. "These plants respond to emotions, especially if the witch or wizard is… magically connected."
"Magically connected or magically bound?" he teased lightly, glancing at her sideways. "Both," she replied with a knowing look, brushing a bit of soil from his shoulder. "Besides… today might be different. I can feel it." Harry arched a brow but nodded, squeezing her hand once before slipping his focus back to Professor Sprout, who was demonstrating how to feed a shy-flowering Mimbletonia. Susan laughed softly beside them, her Hufflepuff tie slightly askew. "You always feel things before they happen, Hermione. It's unnerving, you know."
"I'm just well-read and highly intuitive," Hermione countered, her chin lifting. Before Susan could fire back, the earth beneath their feet suddenly trembled...not violently, but subtly, like the echo of a heart awakening beneath the surface. Students paused, glancing around with murmurs of unease.
Professor Sprout's smile faded. "Everyone, step back… slowly." The soil in the far corner of the greenhouse shifted, vines twisting and parting like curtains in the wind. From the opening rose a form...a young woman, seemingly grown from the earth itself. She was… breathtaking.
Standing five feet nine inches tall, her skin shimmered with a soft, light forest green hue, like dew-covered leaves at dawn. Her long, bright red hair cascaded down her back in wild, natural curls, and her eyes gleamed olive green with ancient knowing. The scent of honeysuckle and damp oak clung to the air around her. She wore a female Hogwarts uniform with grace, the crest shimmering faintly against her chest. On her left wrist, a golden band glittered, its surface etched with Veela script that glowed faintly as it adjusted...marking a new name.
Susan inhaled sharply. "She's… beautiful." Hermione, eyes wide, took a step forward. "She's not just a dryad… she's Greenheart-born. A spirit of growth and balance." The dryad's gaze met Harry's, and the moment it did, the vines around her stilled. "You…" Her voice was like soft rain through leaves, calm and melodic. "You are the one I was told to find." Harry blinked. "Me?"
She nodded. "I am Posion Ivy. Dryad of Greenheart Grove. I was summoned by Lady Magic herself… awakened only when the circle nears completion." Her fingers brushed the golden band on her wrist. "I am the twenty-first of the twenty-eight, the fifth of those born of magic's wild nature. I am… your Bound." Hermione gasped softly. "Twenty-one already… Seven to the fourth…"
"That's what it is," she murmured to herself. "Seven is a sacred magical constant… and twenty-eight, being seven times four, holds profound weight in magical theory. Hogwarts itself was founded on that rhythm. Seven floors. Seven years. Seven subjects. Seven founders, if you go back to the ones unspoken of…"
Professor Sprout, who had remained silent and still, finally spoke. "In herbology, seven is the seed cycle of the Elder Bloom… It determines which plants live, which go dormant, and which awaken." She looked at Posion Ivy in quiet awe. "This… this is sacred."
"I am also the balance to your flame," Posion Ivy said gently, stepping closer to Harry. "Where your power burns… mine nurtures." Harry's voice cracked faintly. "Why me? Why now?" She touched the soul-stone around his neck, and the necklace glowed warmly. "Because you are meant to complete us, and we are meant to complete you. The soil whispered your name the moment your foot touched this greenhouse."
From behind them, Dora spoke in her usual teasing tone, though it was touched with emotion. "That's our mate for you… walks into a greenhouse, and the spirits start waking up." Laughter rippled softly around the group, easing the tension. Ivy tilted her head. "Will you accept me, Harry?" Harry's answer was simple, genuine, and warm. "Of course I do, Ivy." The vines at her feet shimmered and curled upward in quiet celebration.
Date: October 4th, 1991
Time: 9:45 AM
Location: Hogwarts South Practice Field
The sun had barely climbed above the mist-draped treetops as Madam Hooch's whistle pierced the morning stillness, summoning Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years to the well-manicured grass of the south practice field. Two neat rows of brooms lay waiting in the dew, the bristles twitching subtly as if eager for the day's task.
"Eyes forward, backs straight, and feet beside the broom, not on it!" Madam Hooch's commanding tone drew every head up, her hawkish yellow eyes scanning the gathered students with practiced intensity. "We will not tolerate foolishness. One wrong move, and you'll find yourself in the hospital wing...or worse."
Harry stood calmly among the Gryffindors, the morning wind ruffling his dark hair. He wore the faintest of smiles as he glanced at Hermione, who gave him a nervous thumbs-up. On his other side, Daphne stood near Pansy, the two Slytherin girls murmuring quietly. Pansy's eyes kept drifting to Harry with curiosity laced with something softer.
"All right," Madam Hooch barked. "On my count… one, two...up!"
With a sharp whisper of air, Harry's broom snapped to his hand before any other, the handle landing smoothly in his palm like an extension of his will. His eyes flicked sideways...Ron's broom had smacked him in the nose, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Hermione's hovered briefly, then fell back with a muttered ugh.
Daphne let out a low whistle. "Show-off," she muttered with a faint smirk. Pansy laughed. "It's not showing off if the broom loves him." Harry shot them both a playful grin. "You just need to say 'please' louder."
"Mount up!" came the next command. "Hover at three feet...no more...and hold steady!" Within seconds, Harry was airborne. "I'm… flying…" he whispered, heart pounding as the wind kissed his cheeks. His instincts took over. No fear. No hesitation. His balance was effortless, the broom responding to every shift in his body like it had been born with him.
"Look at Potter," Draco Malfoy scoffed nearby, wobbling slightly on his own broom. "Of course he'd get the hang of it. Probably inherited it from that blood-traitor father of his...oh wait, sorry… half-blood, wasn't it?"
Harry's gaze snapped to Draco, but before he could reply, Pansy's broom gave a sudden jolt. With a sharp crack, it bucked beneath her, and she screamed as it rose wildly into the air, spinning.
"Pansy!" Daphne shouted, panic in her voice. "Her broom's cursed!" Hermione gasped. "It's not natural!" Draco let out a short, nervous laugh and smile...far too proud of his work to realize the danger. "It was a joke...just a little charm..."
"You what?!" Madam Hooch roared, already sprinting forward. But Harry didn't hesitate or need to be told what to do, as in a burst of speed, he flattened against his broom and launched upward like a hawk, weaving through the air with precision that stunned even the Slytherins. He climbed higher, reaching Pansy just as she slipped sideways, her scream piercing the sky.
"I've got you, love!" he yelled, reaching out. Pansy's eyes widened as Harry snatched her wrist mid-fall, swinging her securely onto his broom in a single fluid motion. They dipped hard as her weight shifted, but Harry adjusted expertly, guiding the broom down in a sharp, clean descent.
The moment their feet touched the ground, Pansy stumbled right into Harry's arms, breathless and shaking. "You… you caught me love." Harry murmured, holding her tightly. "I've got you, sweetheart, you're safe now your ok, just breath love." Hermione and Daphne sprinted across the grass toward them, followed moments later by Ivy, who emerged from the forest's edge where she was watching, barefoot and wild-haired, concern written across her features. "Harry!" Hermione shouted. "Pansy!"
"We're fine," Pansy said breathlessly. "He… he saved me." Ivy crouched beside them, brushing a glowing hand against Harry's cheek and then Pansy's. "You are brave, mate. And you...you're strong, sister. No spirit like yours breaks in free fall."
Madam Hooch arrived moments later, blowing her whistle so hard it nearly cracked. Her face was flushed with both fury and awe. "Mr. Malfoy," she snapped, spinning toward Draco, who had gone ghost-white. "You tampered with a broom. That's reckless endangerment, and in my class, that's grounds for detention if not removalform my Class!"
Draco opened his mouth, but McGonagall's voice sliced through the air. "There's no need to argue that, Madam Hooch." Professor McGonagall had arrived, her robes sweeping in the wind as she strode toward the group. Her lips were pursed, but her eyes were sharp...focused entirely on Harry. "I saw it," she said. "From my tower window. A dive like that… clean, fast, precise. You're your father's son, Mr. Potter. Perhaps even better." Harry blinked. "Better?"
"You caught a falling student. Midair. On your first broom lesson," she said crisply. "That's not just talent...it's instinct. You'll make a fine Seeker for Gryffindor. We haven't had one this promising since James Potter caught the snitch with his teeth."
Hermione beamed beside him. Daphne rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. Pansy just clung to his arm, clearly too shaken to care about anything but him at that moment. Madam Hooch nodded slowly. "I agree. He's a natural-born Seeker."
McGonagall turned a withering gaze on Draco. "As for you, Mr. Malfoy… detention. And thirty points from Slytherin. Tampering with school property and endangering a classmate will not be tolerated." "But...he...!" Draco stammered, but one look at the head of Gryffindor shut him up fast. "Come," McGonagall said to Harry, softer now. "I'll have Madam Pomfrey check Miss Parkinson. But you, Mr. Potter… you have a Quidditch Captain to meet."
As she led them back toward the castle, Hermione clutched Harry's hand tightly. "You were amazing," she said quietly. "You saved her without a second thought." "I just… moved. I couldn't let her fall."
"You didn't," Pansy whispered, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. "You never will, will you?" Harry smiled gently, brushing her hair back. "Never."
Date: October 4th, 1991
Time: 10:00 AM
Location: Hospital Wing, Hogwarts Castle
The heavy doors of the hospital wing creaked open as Professor McGonagall led Harry, Hermione, Daphne, and Ivy through the threshold. The scent of potions and antiseptic floated in the air, crisp and oddly calming. Madam Pomfrey stood near the first bed, already guiding Pansy to sit down, her usual sternness replaced by gentle worry.
"Lie back, dear," Madam Pomfrey instructed. "No broken bones, but I want to check for shock, strained muscles, and any magical backlash from that cursed broom." Pansy groaned slightly, though her voice still held a hint of her usual edge. "I'm fine. I landed in Harry's arms, after all."
"I still want to be sure," Pomfrey said as she waved her wand over Pansy, scanning her with a muttered diagnostic charm. Hermione hovered nearby, wringing her hands. "You're really okay, right? You fell so fast…"
"I'm alright," Pansy reassured her softly, her eyes fixed on Harry. "Because he caught me." Daphne took up position on the other side of the bed, arms crossed but her concern clear. "If he hadn't, I would've hexed Malfoy's nose off."
"I'll get in line behind you," Ivy murmured, placing a hand on Pansy's ankle. "You scared me, sister." Pansy blinked at the dryad, surprise flickering through her expression. "…Thanks, Ivy."
Meanwhile, McGonagall turned to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, if you would...run a quick full-blood diagnostic on Mr. Potter as well. I've received formal documentation from the Headmaster regarding certain… family connections, but we'd like confirmation." Harry blinked. "I thought you already knew I was a Potter and...well, related to the Founders?"
"We do," McGonagall said with a faint smile. "But the records Albus received were incomplete, and it's important we clarify any dormant magical ties that might affect you or the school. The spell is painless." Harry nodded, stepping forward. Ivy took his hand wordlessly. Hermione moved beside him, brushing dust from his sleeve. Daphne simply watched, silent and still.
Pomfrey summoned a golden diagnostic quill with a flick of her wrist. "Stand still, Mr. Potter. This will just draw a single drop." A brief warmth prickled across Harry's palm as the quill wrote furiously in midair. Letters formed on parchment conjured by magic, glowing before darkening into ink. When the paper fluttered down into Pomfrey's hands, her expression immediately changed from casual professionalism to wide-eyed shock.
"Oh... Merlin." McGonagall raised an eyebrow and extended a hand. "Let me see." The paper passed from hand to hand...first McGonagall, then Hermione, then Daphne, and finally Ivy, each more stunned than the last;
Royal Pure-Blood Magical Lineage Confirmed
Name: Harry James Potter
Title: Prince of the Royal Family/ Boy-who-lived/ Magic's Chosen
Age: 11
Status: Royal Pure-Blood – Soulbound Magic Recognized
Soulbound Magic and Bound Status (as of this Ledger): 19 fiance's and 1 Marrige (Lady Elana Hogwarts)
Confirmed Lineage (as of this Ledger/ all though blood and family):
-) Potter (House of Light and Protection)
-) Black (House of Shadows and Order)
-) Peverell (Death's Threefold Gift)
-) Gryffindor (Lion's Courage)
-) Slytherin (Serpent's Ambition)
-) Ravenclaw (Eagle's Wisdom)
-) Hufflepuff (Badger's Loyalty)
-) Hogwarts (Magical Nexus Bloodline)
-) Pendragon (Royal Warrior-King)
-) Emrys (Line of Merlin)
-) Windsor (Crown-Bound Heritage)
Silence dropped like a heavy curtain. "I… What?" Hermione's voice cracked. "That's...impossible. That's every major lineage in magical and royal history!" McGonagall looked pale. "Even Albus didn't know about Pendragon or Emrys… and Windsor? The Windsor line?" Hermione muttered quickly, brain spinning. "That's not even counting that Pendragon and Emrys are supposed to be… mythical..."
"I'm real," a regal, melodic voice cut in from the far arch. All heads turned as Elana, her silvery-white gown glinting with faint magic, stepped into the wing. The ancient soul of Hogwarts moved with ethereal grace, her long dark hair tumbling like a waterfall over her shoulders. Her eyes, deep pools of violet, flicked between Pansy and Harry.
"Husband," she said softly, and everyone near Harry instantly stepped back to give her room. She cupped his cheek gently. "I came as soon as I felt the pull."
"Elana…" Harry touched her hand, grounding himself in her warmth. "I didn't even know all of this. I just...felt strange when Madam Pomfrey cast the charm."
"I know. That's the blood of ancient kings and archmagi waking in your veins." Elana looked at the parchment. "Emrys and Pendragon... that makes sense now. Lady Magic spoke of your name echoing through the ages." Pansy, still reclined, narrowed her eyes. "So… what does this make him?" Hermione answered breathlessly. "The heir to everything."
"Not everything," Harry said gently, sitting beside Pansy. "Just to those I've loved...and those who loved me enough to stand beside me." Pomfrey let out a shaky breath. "Well… you are cleared, magically and medically. Though I suggest a calming potion for Miss Parkinson."
"I don't need one," Pansy huffed. "I've got Harry." Hermione chuckled, visibly relieved now that the tension had broken. Daphne smiled a little too, hands resting on the foot of the bed.
Ivy took a moment to trace her fingers over the golden bracelet on her wrist, which glowed faintly as Harry's name shimmered among the others etched in Veela script. "Lady Magic doesn't pick randomly," she murmured. "You were born for this, mate. You just didn't know how big your roots ran." Harry turned to Elana. "Do you… already know the full truth?"
"I know parts," Elana said, her hand sliding into his. "But now that it's confirmed, others will start to sense it too. You won't be hidden for long, Husband." Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "You may stay until lunch, but no more excitement today. Especially not you, Mr. Potter." Harry grinned at that. "No promises."
Date: October 4th, 1991
Time: Late Afternoon
Location: Quidditch Pitch, Hogwarts Castle
The golden sun hung low on the horizon as Harry stepped onto the Quidditch pitch, Nimbus 2000 in hand. The soft rustle of wind across the grass was broken only by the distant cries of birds and the occasional flap of fabric from school cloaks fluttering in the stands. His heart thudded against his ribs, not from fear...but anticipation.
Minerva had handed him the broom that morning with a proud smile and her usual reserved warmth. "From me to you, Mr. Potter. You'll make Gryffindor proud."
Now, with the sleek broomstick clutched in his hand, Harry stood under the gaze of the Gryffindor Quidditch team...and more importantly, the gaze of nearly every one of his bound mates who had come to watch. Ivy, Elana, Katarina, Ahri, Mizukume, and his fellow House-bound were all seated across the lower rows of the stands, vibrant among the grey stone and red-and-gold banners. A tall, broad-shouldered boy with short brown hair and a no-nonsense face stepped forward. "Oliver Wood," he said, extending a hand. "Captain and Keeper. You must be Potter."
"Harry," he answered, shaking it firmly. "Nice to meet you." Behind Wood, a pair of grinning redheads bounded forward, nearly tripping over each other in excitement. "Fred Weasley." "George Weasley." "And we are your Beaters...ready to smack Bludgers, block Slytherins, and cause minor chaos in your name," Fred added with a wink.
Harry snorted. "Pleasure to meet you both." Then came the surprise...the trio that stepped forward next stopped him cold. His mouth parted slightly. "You three are..." "On the team?" Angelina Johnson grinned, her arms crossed as she stood with unmistakable confidence. "Yup. Fifth-year, and Chaser. Best one, too, before you ask." "Please," said Alicia Spinnet, laughing softly. "She's the loudest, not the best. I'm Alicia. Also fifth-year."
Katie Bell rolled her eyes and slung an arm around Harry's shoulders without hesitation. "And I'm Katie. Fourth year. You've already flown with me, remember, love?" Harry flushed. "I...yeah, but I didn't know..." "That we're your teammates and your bonded?" Angelina interrupted, a fierce pride dancing in her dark eyes. "We're here to win, mate. Just happens we love you, too."
From the stands, Ivy called down, her voice floating across the pitch like a breeze through trees. "We all came to see you fly, sweetheart!" "Don't let us down, Husband!" Elana's clear voice followed, echoing from the top rows. She stood with Katarina and Mizukume at her side, the latter of whom was nearly bouncing with anticipation.
"I just want to see if you actually catch the Snitch," Ahri purred, her tails flicking behind her as she leaned into the railing like a curious cat. "Or if you'll fall trying." Harry chuckled nervously. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"Don't listen to them," Oliver said, mounting his broom. "We'll take it slow. I want to see your control, your acceleration, and your awareness of the Snitch. If what McGonagall says is true, you've got raw talent."
"I've flown, just… never in a game setting," Harry said, mounting the Nimbus. "But I'll give it everything." With a single kick, they rose into the air. It felt like coming home.
The moment Harry's feet left the ground, the wind wrapped around him like a living thing. The Nimbus 2000 moved as though it were an extension of his own body...responding to the slightest shift in weight, every nudge of his fingers. Harry's emerald eyes scanned the field as they gained altitude.
Below, the team followed, circling in formation. Angelina and Alicia flanked him on either side, both laughing as they watched him steady into the wind without a wobble. "He's already got the posture," Alicia said. "Look at him!"
"Fly with us," Angelina called. "Let's see how you handle a race." Katie whooped behind him. "First to the goalposts and back!" Harry grinned. "You're on." They took off like a bolt of lightning, the girls weaving around him with practiced grace. But Harry...Harry didn't so much fly as cut through the air. The Nimbus purred beneath him, and every time he leaned forward, he surged ahead like he'd been born to chase the wind.
He beat them all. By a lot. "Bloody hell," George muttered from below. Fred elbowed him. "I think we found our Seeker." After a few drills and Wood explaining basic formations, it was time for the test. Oliver released the golden Snitch. It vanished with a soft zip, and Harry paused only long enough to glance around...then moved. Fast. As there was No hesitation…No hunting…No second-guessing…Just instinct.
He spiraled upward, darted left, then went into a steep dive with such speed that Alicia actually yelped behind him. The wind screamed in his ears as the stands blurred past, but he never lost focus. The faint glimmer of gold darted beneath the rings...then up.
Harry twisted mid-dive, leveled out, and shot straight through the air like a thunderbolt. His fingers snapped out... Clink. The Snitch fluttered weakly in his grip, its wings brushing his fingers in protest. Silence...Then Ivy clapped, once. Loud. "HE CAUGHT IT!" Lavender screamed, leaping to her feet. Fred and George whooped from the sky as Wood dropped his jaw wide enough to swallow a Bludger.
"Sweet Merlin," Oliver muttered. "He didn't just catch it… He read it." Angelina flew up beside Harry, breathless and wide-eyed. "Love… That was hot." Katie, beaming, flew up to him from the other side and kissed his cheek. "That's our Seeker." Alicia giggled. "And our bound. Triple win."
Elana stood tall from the stands, her voice calm and proud. "That… is my Husband." Katarina clapped once, her golden eyes narrowing in approval. "He's earned his sky." Ahri just smirked. "Show-off."
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Harry landed with his team. Oliver clapped a firm hand on his shoulder. "You're our Seeker now. No question. Practice starts twice a week. But with you, Potter…" he looked toward the girls, then back to Harry. "We might just win the Cup." Harry smiled as the others surrounded him. Hermione met him at the edge of the pitch, hugging him tightly. "You were incredible," she whispered. "Truly." He held her close. "Thanks, love."
And as the stars began to bloom across the indigo sky above Hogwarts, Harry James Potter...Royal-Blooded, Soul-Bound, and now, Seeker...finally felt something deeper than magic… it was Belonging.
Date: October 5th, 1991 – Lunchtime
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts Castle
POV: 3rd Person – Emotional Dialogue in 1st Person
The Great Hall was a thunderstorm of voices, laughter, and excited energy. The enchanted ceiling reflected the pale grey sky above as rain tapped gently against the high windows. Plates clinked, pumpkin juice flowed freely, and everywhere students leaned in, whispering animatedly about one name: Harry Potter.
News of his Quidditch performance had spread like Fiendfyre, faster even than gossip about Snape being seen smiling once in the dungeons. More importantly, word of Harry's bloodline...Royal Pure-Blood, Soul-Bound, and multi-form Animagus...had set Hogwarts alight. "I told you," Lavender giggled to Parvati as she passed the bread. "He caught the Snitch in five seconds. Wood nearly fainted."
"And he's so graceful in the air," Katie added proudly, eyes flicking to Harry down the Gryffindor table. Harry sat modestly, a small smile tugging at his lips as Alicia whispered something teasing in his ear. Angelina bumped his shoulder playfully while Hermione, across from him, rolled her eyes fondly.
Yet beneath the cheerful energy, tension brewed. A low, sneering voice echoed across the hall. It sliced through the chatter like a cursed blade.
"Oh, of course he gets a Nimbus 2000," Draco Malfoy snapped from the Slytherin table, standing now and speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "How fitting. A broomstick for a Half-Blood charity case who just got lucky being the Boy-Who-Lived. Probably begged McGonagall for it. Or bought it with his filthy vaults."
The hall quieted instantly. Harry looked up slowly, his green eyes hardening.
"Bet it was his… bound mates who convinced the professors," Draco added with a cruel grin. "After all, they're only hanging around for the money, right? Veela charm? Dark rituals? Wouldn't be surprised if he's using blood magic."
The murmurs returned...but this time darker, colder. Disbelieving. Then Ron stood beside Draco, face red with fury and bitterness. "He's just a freak, a monster with a mark. You lot are blinded by his fame. I mean, Soul-Bounds? Do any of you really believe that crap? He's playing all of you. He probably cursed those girls or..."
"Enough!" The single word was not loud, but it echoed through the hall like thunder.
Elana stood from the Gryffindor table. Her expression was serene, deadly, her golden eyes narrowed in royal wrath. She walked slowly toward the Slytherin table, every step thunderous despite its grace.
"You dare insult my Husband?" Draco blinked, looking suddenly unsure. "I speak the truth...!" SMACK. Elana's palm cracked across Draco's face before he could finish the sentence. His head snapped to the side, and a silence fell so thick it nearly crushed the room.
Then came Katarina. She stood, walked past the Gryffindor benches, and stopped beside Elana. "Filthy lizard blood?" Draco muttered under his breath, only for Katarina to grab him by the front of his robes, lift him slightly off the ground, and hiss smoke form her mouth tight into his face. "I am a Dragon. Born in fire. Try insulting my family again and I will turn your bones to ash."
Next came Ahri, tails swishing, eyes glowing faintly with foxfire. She pouted dramatically. "Poor Draco," she murmured, patting his cheek mockingly. "So small. So scared. So… unimpressive." She looked at Ron. "Oh, and your ratty friend too." Ron tried to backpedal verbally. "I...I didn't mean it like that..."
Mizukume's eyes narrowed as she sauntered forward. "But you did, Weasley. You meant every foul word, and now…" She raised her hand. Vines. Flames. Water. Wind. A magic storm bloomed around the hall's edges.
Last came Ivy. Her heels echoed as she strode to the center of the aisle, between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. The air changed. Grew heavier. "Draco. Ron." Her voice was soft. Too soft. "You tried to stain something sacred. Soul-Bonds are divine magic. Born of fate and heart." She flicked her fingers...two snap vines caught the boys by the ankles and hoisted them into the air.
With a flick of Katarina's wrist, fire singed their robes. Mizukume summoned a gust of wind that sent petals flying through the air...only for the flowers to nestle in Ron's hair like a child's crown. By the time the vines lowered them, Ron and Draco hung in the air charred, flowered, and humiliated. A student from Ravenclaw gasped. "Look...look at Harry's necklace. It's glowing!"
Dumbledore stood then, lifting his goblet. "Enough." The hall went still. "I believe it is time Hogwarts heard the full truth." He gestured toward Harry, who stood slowly, walking calmly to the center of the aisle. He turned slowly in place, letting the eyes of the entire hall rest upon him. "I am Harry James Potter. I am not cursed. I am not evil. I am not lucky."
He closed his eyes. His body shimmered, light dancing across his skin. Then...he changed. Gasps tore through the room as a massive Northwestern Wolf stood where Harry had been...its silver fur glinting under the hall's enchanted light, faint black streaks marking its tail and back. It towered seven feet at the shoulder, gleaming and regal.
Then the wolf vanished and, in its place, stood a Nemean Lion, rippling golden and glowering like a god's guardian. Then the lion shimmered and reformed...a Kitsune, majestic, heavy with flame-tipped tails. Nine of them waved gently in the air as the beast's silver-blue eyes glowed with quiet intensity. Students gasped. A few even applauded. Finally, Harry reappeared. His eyes were red-rimmed but proud.
"One more.." he whispered only loudeff for Dumbledore and McGonagall to hear. "..this is for my father." His body shifted again, shrinking this time. His form narrowed, bones reshaping, fur blooming across his body until a majestic red deer stood proud and still...its antlers wide and magnificent. Tears shimmered in the deer's brown eyes.
Elana walked forward and wrapped her arms around the neck of the stag. "Husband…" Then Ivy joined, resting her hand on the deer's side, her voice full of quiet strength. "You are everything, love." The stag shifted again...Harry was human once more, standing between them in their hugs, his head bowed slightly. When he looked up, it was with fire behind his gaze.
"I honor my father's memory," he said firmly. "And I protect my family. Always." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "For the record, Mr. Potter is a registered Multi-Form Animagus. What you've seen is fully sanctioned by the Ministry." He looked at Ron and Draco. "As for slander…"
Professor McGonagall stood, lips thinned. "Both Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley will serve detention every Saturday for the remainder of term." Snape added coldly, "Even I agree. Their behavior was… disgraceful." The Great Hall erupted with applause...not just from Gryffindor, but from all four Houses. Ron and Draco, still glowing with faint magic, stood red-faced and smoking slightly, flower petals clinging to their hair.
And Harry? He walked back to his seat, his bound waiting with open arms, each of them fierce, proud, and loyal. And for the first time since entering Hogwarts, no one questioned who Harry Potter truly was.
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Authors Note and Question: IF you want to see what it looks like Soulstone of the Bound which one would be better for the book poll 1 or 2 they have which made them (tumbs up next to each one in the comments on the page and by release of Chapter 12 I have photo for Soulstone of the Bound chosen):
1)https://openart.ai/share/a1BtUzNaNnpLVVIxTnFHQ0RwM1U7aHR0cHM6Ly9jZG4ub3BlbmFydC5haS91cGxvYWRzL2ltYWdlX3VpZF9DZmZYTmwxV2sySVhxaDg0bHVmd185WW04Q2JGWV8xNzQ2MTY0MTMzNzY2XzEwMjQud2VicA (on Openart AI/ DALL·E 3)
2) https://sdmntprsouthcentralus.oaiusercontent.com/files/00000000-a2e4-61f7-9be8-2eac8199c1e3/raw?se=2025-06-13T20%3A49%3A50Z&sp=r&sv=2024-08-04&sr=b&scid=f5b15ccd-d208-5f79-9b54-47b5069a9c94&skoid=bbd22fc4-f881-4ea4-b2f3-c12033cf6a8b&sktid=a48cca56-e6da-484e-a814-9c849652bcb3&skt=2025-06-12T23%3A42%3A53Z&ske=2025-06-13T23%3A42%3A53Z&sks=b&skv=2024-08-04&sig=B9g3PEfFyMod1%2BaC31bQkn0inPZVG8GdTcCX8vg/qwQ%3D (on ChatGPT)