Chapter 282: "Twilight of an Eventful Year"

The sun hadn't yet risen over Hogwarts when Harry Potter, still wearing yesterday's robes and sporting a rather suspicious grin, attempted to sneak into the Ravenclaw dormitory. He was almost to his bed when Roger's voice shattered the silence.

"And where exactly have you been, Mr. Potter?"

Harry froze, turning to see not only Roger but Reggy as well, both sitting up in their beds with identical, knowing grins.

"Why are you two up so early?" Harry asked, attempting to feign casualness. "Usually, you're barely awake before classes."

Reggy chuckled. "Oh, we were asleep. But we set an alert ward by the stairs to let us know when you'd come sneaking back."

Harry mentally scolded himself. He hadn't expected anyone to put an alert charm in the Ravenclaw dorms. "Why would you do that?"

Roger raised an eyebrow, looking every bit as mischievous as Reggy. "We're the ones asking questions here, Harry. Where were you last night?"

Harry kept his tone casual. "I was training. With everything going on, I don't want to waste a moment; got to get as strong as possible."

"Interesting," Roger drawled, his eyes glinting. "Because someone mentioned a certain silver-haired champion was missing from her dorm as well. You wouldn't happen to know where she was, would you?"

Harry smirked. "Fleur? Yeah, she was training with me. Can't exactly spar alone, can I?"

Reggy leaned forward, his grin widening. "Just training, or was there more to it?"

Harry sighed, exasperated. "What's with all the questions? I need to get ready for my morning session. Ask me later—we've got the whole day."

With that, Harry quickly changed into his training clothes and left the room before they could continue their interrogation.

At breakfast, Roger and Reggy looked ready to renew their questions, possibly with reinforcements, but a new topic of conversation swept through the hall, and they were temporarily distracted.

Charles Potter had been released from the hospital wing. He was back to his usual self, having recovered from his encounter and exposure to the Cruciatus Curse.

The Great Hall buzzed with curiosity when Harry and his dormmates arrived for breakfast. Students from all houses and schools craned their necks toward the entrance, waiting for the first sight of Charles. The whispers flew fast.

"I heard he fought You-Know-Who in a proper duel-"

"Don't be daft, he's dead-"

The whispers only grew as Charles entered, flanked by Ron and Hermione like personal guards. Ginny and Neville followed close behind, forming a protective circle. Charles looked pale but determined, seemingly unbothered by the attention.

Before the rumors could take off again, Dumbledore stood up at the staff table.

"While we all share concern for Mr. Potter's wellbeing," he announced, his blue eyes somehow managing to meet every student's gaze simultaneously, "I must ask that you respect his privacy and refrain from overwhelming him with questions. When and if Mr. Potter wishes to share his experience, that will be his choice."

Dumbledore's words had the intended effect, and the direct questions ceased, though not quite as intended. Instead of open stares and inquiries, students now observed Charles from behind books, around corners, and through gaps between friends, with whispered theories growing more elaborate.

Charles seemed to shy away from the attention now, preferring to spend his time at Hagrid's cabin with his close friends. Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for his younger brother. The once arrogant boy, always eager to be in the spotlight, had matured into someone humble and grounded, content to stay out of the center of attention.

Everything Charles had been through at Hogwarts had changed him for the better, and Harry was genuinely impressed with how bravely he had handled himself during his encounter with Voldemort.

The rest of the day passed in a strange mixture of end-of-term excitement and subdued grief. The empty seats at the Slytherin table were a constant reminder of recent losses. Several students had left early, summoned home by family. Draco had departed with his mother days before.

Harry spent the afternoon with his friends by the lake, Fleur nestled comfortably in his arms. Their relationship had shifted subtly but significantly after the previous night, a new certainty underlying every touch and glance. Their friends, to their credit, kept the teasing to a minimum - mostly.

"So," Arabella asked innocently, "how was last night's training?"

"It was great," Fleur replied before Harry could, her eyes sparkling. "We trained for hours. Very... enlightening. I'm still sore from it all."

Roger choked on his pumpkin juice while Cedric fell backwards laughing. Even the Elvinia, usually so composed, couldn't help giggling.

As evening approached, the castle's atmosphere shifted. The final feast awaited, but it would be different this year. Black banners hung along the walls, and the enchanted ceiling displayed a clear night sky, stars twinkling against velvet darkness. Thousands of candles cast a warm glow, but the mood was somber.

Students filed in, their usual end-of-term excitement tempered by the events of the past week. The Slytherin table, normally proud and aloof, sat in unusual solidarity, many of its members wearing black armbands. Even the ghosts seemed more solemn, floating silently above the tables.

When everyone was seated, Dumbledore rose. The hall fell silent immediately, every eye fixed on the headmaster. His customary end-of-term twinkle was absent, replaced by something deeper, more serious.

"Another year has gone," Dumbledore began, his voice carrying to every corner. "And what a year it has been. A year that began with the excitement of the Triwizard Tournament, yet ends in shadow. We have witnessed incredible displays of magical prowess, celebrated international cooperation, and forged bonds between our schools that will last lifetimes."

His expression grew more serious. "But we have also faced darkness. Lord Voldemort has returned."

A collective shudder ran through the hall at the name. Several students gasped audibly.

"It would be an insult to you all to pretend otherwise. Charles Potter faced him in that graveyard, displaying courage beyond his years. He escaped, thanks to the intervention of an unknown wizard, but not before witnessing horrors no child should endure."

Dumbledore's eyes found Charles at the Gryffindor table. "His experience reminds us that dark times approach. Yet it also shows us that even in our darkest moments, help can arrive from unexpected quarters."

"We have also suffered losses. Several of our students have lost fathers - deaths that the Ministry may classify differently, but whose absence will be felt deeply regardless. While some may choose to ignore the truth of these losses, we cannot ignore the pain they have caused."

His gaze swept the hall, lingering particularly on the Slytherin table. "In the coming darkness, we must remember that we are strongest together. House rivalries, school competitions, and even old prejudices must give way before the bonds of shared humanity. Those who seek to divide us will find that their actions only give us more reason to unite."

"Remember those we have lost. Comfort those who grieve. Stand firm against the encroaching dark. And above all, keep your hearts open to love - for it is love that will light our way forward. Love that gives us strength to face whatever darkness may come."

The silence that followed was profound. Harry noticed more than a few students wiping their eyes, while others reached out to clasp hands across house tables.

After the feast, it was time for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang to depart. Unlike in the canon, both schools had decided to leave that very night. Harry wasn't entirely sure why, but he guessed that with the nearly confirmed return of Voldemort and the deaths of Death Eaters, the other ministries might have acted quickly, calling their students back to learn all they could about the dark events that had unfolded.

The night was clear and cool as students gathered on the grounds. The massive carriage and ship stood ready, but neither group seemed eager to leave.

As students said their goodbyes, Fleur pulled Harry aside.

"Remember, 'Arry," she said, her voice carrying that melodious accent he loved, "you are mine now." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Don't you dare forget it."

"As if I could," Harry replied softly, pulling her close.

"Oui. And if any English girls try to steal you..." She left the threat hanging playfully.

"Get a room!" Roger called out, then quickly dodged Harry's wandless stinging hex.

"Already did," Fleur whispered with a wicked smile, just loud enough for their friends to hear, causing several eyebrows to shoot up and setting off another round of laughter.

Their final goodbye was interrupted by Madame Maxime calling for her students. As Fleur turned to leave, she pressed something into Harry's hand - a delicate silver chain with a tiny charm shaped like a thunderbird.

"To remind you," she said softly, then kissed him one last time before hurrying to join her schoolmates.

Harry watched as the massive carriage rose into the night sky, followed shortly by the Durmstrang ship submerging beneath the lake's dark surface. The remaining Hogwarts students drifted back inside, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

Tomorrow, he would leave for home. Summer would be hectic, but some things, he thought, were worth fighting for.