The Grand Exhibition Ends

Harry sat in the Exhibition's private waiting room, surrounded by his family and friends. The judges had withdrawn to deliberate nearly an hour ago. Charlotte and Akiko stood next to him while Fleur paced near the window, occasionally muttering in French.

He couldn't help dwelling on the Living Sculpture phase. Without storm clouds overhead, his lightning had felt weak, constrained, in comparison. The Crystalline Jumping Tree looked decent enough - blue flames and electric arcs moving up and down to create an illusion of movement... but it lacked something essential. Real life. Real movement.

Nicolas caught his eye from across the room and smiled encouragingly. But Harry knew the truth - he needed to expand beyond just flames, lightning and mist. Perhaps if he were capable of some basic animation charms, or even elementary transfiguration...

"The judges are returning!" Tonks called from her spot by the door.

Everyone filed into the grand exhibition hall. Hundreds of witches and wizards filled the seats, while the competing pieces stood displayed on elevated platforms. Harry's Starlight Memories painting drew constant crowds, the indigo flames still pulling gently at viewers' emotions while stars of pure feeling sparkled in the artificial night sky.

Madame Lefebvre stepped up to the podium, tapping her wand for silence. The hall grew quiet except for occasional gasps and sighs from those experiencing Harry's emotional constellation.

"Esteemed guests, after careful deliberation across all four categories, we begin with the Enchanted Painting division."

Harry's hands clenched slightly. Beside them, Fleur crossed her fingers.

"In third place - Maurice Moreau, for 'The Last Stand of Ragnuk the First.'" Applause filled the hall as Moreau approached the podium. Behind him, goblin warriors charged across a sprawling battlefield, their silver weapons gleaming with magic that could temporarily sharpen real blades placed near the painting.

"Second place goes to Madame Sayuri Tanaka for 'Garden of Four Seasons.'" The Japanese witch bowed deeply as she accepted her medal. Her masterpiece drew gasps from the crowd - a living ink world where viewers could step inside and experience all four seasons simultaneously. Cherry blossoms fell endlessly in one quarter while snow drifted in another, each section bleeding seamlessly into the next.

Madame Lefebvre paused, building tension. "And first place in Enchanted Painting... Harry Potter, for 'Starlight Memories!'"

Harry's breath caught in his throat. Charlotte squeezed his hand while Fleur let out a delighted squeal. Nicolas gently nudged him forward, and Harry stood on shaking legs.

The walk to the podium felt surreal. People reached toward him, faces shining with tears from experiencing his emotional stars. An elderly wizard grabbed his sleeve, whispering "Thank you for helping me remember." A young witch pressed her hands to her heart, smiling through her tears.

Harry blinked rapidly as he climbed the steps. He'd poured everything into that painting - every pure feeling, every moment of wonder and joy. To have people understand, to really feel what he'd tried to share...

"An unprecedented fusion of flame art and soul magic," Madame Lefebvre announced over the thunderous applause. "Never before has the Exhibition witnessed such raw emotions preserved in permanent form."

Harry's vision blurred as she placed the golden medal around his neck. The weight against his chest felt like an anchor, making this moment real. He turned to face the crowd and saw his family beaming at him - Nicolas and Perenelle, Dumbledore and McGonagall, all of them smiling with pride.

He barely made it back to his seat before the tears spilled over. Charlotte wrapped him in a tight hug while Fleur laid a hand on his shoulder. Harry buried his face in Charlotte's shoulder, overwhelmed by joy as the ceremony continued with Magical Music and Dynamic Dance.

His attention snapped back when Madame Lefebvre cleared her throat for the Living Sculpture category. The crowd leaned forward in anticipation.

"Third place in Living Sculpture goes to Harry Potter for 'The Crystalline Jumping Tree.'" The applause felt polite rather than enthusiastic. Harry nodded, accepting the bronze medal while trying not to show his disappointment. He'd known the piece couldn't really compare to Starlight Memories.

"Second place - Jean-Paul Dubois for 'Symphony in Glass and Light.'" The French sculptor's creation drew appreciative whispers. Thousands of glass fragments hung suspended in mid-air, each catching and amplifying light into rainbow cascades that shifted based on viewers' movements.

"And first place..." Madame Lefebvre smiled. "Master Chen, for 'Mountains and Rivers Without End.'"

The elderly sculptor's masterpiece dominated the exhibition floor - an enormous marble landscape that actually grew and changed. Mountains rose and eroded in minutes, rivers carved new paths through stone, and tiny marble trees sprouted leaves that clinked musically in the breeze.

Master Chen accepted his medal with a deep bow. When he returned to his seat, small birds made of marble took flight from his sculpture's mountains, circling once before landing on newly formed branches.

The formal ceremony dissolved into a reception as waiters appeared with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Harry found himself surrounded by well-wishers, many still wiping tears from their encounters with Starlight Memories.

"You've given us something precious," Master Chen said, approaching with a glass of water. "Those emotions... they remind us what we've forgotten."

Harry smiled. "Your work was incredible as well. I didn't know a spell existed that could forever make mountains and rivers reform in different ways."

"Ah, but I work only with stone." Master Chen gestured toward Harry's painting. "You work with the heart itself. Though perhaps next time, try incorporating more elements? Your lightning and flames show great promise, but they need companions."

"I was thinking the same thing," Harry admitted. "I need to learn more magic before-"

A scream cut through the crowd. Harry spun around to see a young boy collapse near Madame Tanaka's ink painting. Black crystals erupted from his pocket, spreading rapidly across his chest and arms.

The crowd scattered as obsidian-like growths spread across the boy's skin. A woman in healer's robes rushed forward, wand already moving to cast diagnostic charms. "Don't touch him! The curse might spread!"

Harry pushed through the panicked onlookers. The boy couldn't have been more than five - dark hair, pale face contorted in pain as black crystals crept up his neck. A medallion gleamed from his partially crystallized pocket.

"Please," a man in judge's robes fell to his knees beside the boy. "That's my son. Someone help him!"

The healer's wand moved frantically. "The curse is spreading too fast - I've seen this one before, there's no known counter-curse. At this rate..." She swallowed hard. "Minutes, maybe less."

The boy lay rigid, eyes wide with terror as black crystals crackled across his skin. Small whimpers escaped his throat while his father gripped the ground beside him, shoulders shaking.

"I can heal him," Harry said quietly, stepping forward.

The healer glanced up, recognition flashing across her face. She immediately moved aside. "Please..."

Harry knelt beside the boy, whose breath came in sharp gasps now. Tears streamed down his face as crystals began creeping toward his eyes. "It hurts," he sobbed. "Papa, make it stop!"

"I'm here, Antoine," the judge choked out, reaching for his son's hand but stopping short of the crystallized skin. "Papa's right here."

Harry closed his eyes briefly, concentrating his chi towards the void in the center of his dantian. Four spheres of silver-white flame burst into existence, circling the boy's small form. Divine energy pooled in Harry's palms as he reached out, while golden Soul Resonance Mist carried pure comfort and safety toward Antoine.

The boy's desperate gasping eased slightly as the mist reached him. Harry's Inner Eye activated, showing him exactly where the curse would try to spread next. He painted streams of divine light around those points, containing and suffocating the dark magic.

"The crystals," someone whispered. "They're stopping!"

Antoine's father leaned forward, hope breaking through his tears. "Son?"

The black growths had indeed halted their advance. Harry pushed more divine energy through the gaps revealed by his Albedo spheres, methodically cutting off the curse's anchor points. Everywhere his healing light touched, crystals began to crack and fall away.

"Papa?" Antoine's voice trembled. "The hurting is getting smaller."

A sob tore from his father's throat. He pressed his forehead to the ground, shoulders heaving. Around them, many in the crowd wiped at their eyes or turned away.

Piece by piece, the black crystals crumbled away. Harry guided his divine energy along Antoine's skin, following the curse's path backward to its source. The medallion in the boy's pocket pulsed with dark magic, trying to maintain its hold.

"Almost done," Harry murmured as Antoine sniffled.

The boy's father raised his tear-stained face. "The crystals... they're turning to dust."

Indeed, what remained of the obsidian growths now fell away like black sand. Harry focused his divine energy on the medallion itself, and the cursed object shattered with a sharp crack. Antoine gasped as the last traces of dark magic dissolved.

"Papa!" The boy launched himself into his father's arms. Both collapsed into fresh tears, clinging to each other as the crowd broke into applause and relieved exclamations.

The healer rushed forward, casting diagnostic spells with shaking hands. "It's... it's completely gone. Not a trace of dark magic remains." She stared at Harry. "How did you...?"

Harry let the silver-white spheres fade away. Unlike healing Charlotte's scars, this hadn't drained him at all. The curse might have looked dramatic, but it lacked the deep-rooted strength of whatever had marked his friend.

Questions erupted from all sides. Several healers pushed forward, parchment and quills already floating beside them. Ministry officials appeared from the crowd, badges glinting as they approached. The healer who had diagnosed Antoine raised her voice above the clamor. "The implications of breaking a curse with no known counter-"

"Perhaps we might give young Antoine some space to recover?"

Dumbledore stood beside Harry, blue eyes twinkling but voice carrying clear authority. The crowd hesitated.

"But Headmaster," a witch in St. Mungo's robes protested, "this kind of healing is unprecedented! The theoretical applications alone-"

"Will still be fascinating to discuss after proper research and documentation," Dumbledore smiled. "I'm certain arrangements can be made through the appropriate channels."

The gathered officials exchanged glances. A few seemed ready to argue, but none quite willing to challenge both Dumbledore's presence and his reasonable tone. The crowd began to disperse, though many cast lingering looks at Harry.

Antoine's father finally looked up from his son, tears still wet on his face. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

Harry knelt beside Antoine, who still clung to his father but now watched Harry with wide, curious eyes. The boy's skin showed no trace of the black crystals that had covered it moments ago.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked softly.

"Better," Antoine sniffled, then gave a small smile. "It felt warm and safe, like when Mama used to sing to me."

His father pulled Antoine closer. "I'm Judge Laurent. I... I don't know how to repay you."

"There's no need," Harry said. "Maybe you could tell us where the medallion came from?"

Laurent's face darkened. "A gift from a colleague. I thought it was just an old family heirloom." He glanced at the shattered remains. "I should have checked more carefully. Antoine must have found it in my office."

"I just wanted to look at the pretty stone," Antoine mumbled into his father's robes.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "I think it's best we should continue this discussion somewhere more private? The Exhibition's security team will want to examine the remnants."

Nicolas and Perenelle appeared through the thinning crowd. "We know of a private room," Perenelle offered, then smiled at Antoine. "I believe we have some chocolate frogs there as well."

Antoine perked up slightly, though he kept hold of his father's hand as they stood. Harry watched them follow the Flamels, feeling oddly light. This healing had been different - faster, easier, almost natural.

Charlotte appeared at his side, looking at him with concerned eyes. "You didn't even look tired this time."

"The curse wasn't as strong as yours was," Harry explained. "It spread quickly but didn't have deep roots."

"Mr. Potter?" The healer who had first diagnosed Antoine stepped forward again, more hesitant now. "I know Professor Dumbledore asked for space, but... I'm part of the Spell Damage department at St. Mungo's. Would you consider visiting our ward sometime? We have patients who've been cursed for years..."

Harry stood silent for a long moment, looking down at his feet. The healer watched him with hopeful eyes, while his friends stood by his side.

He remembered Nicolas' words from more than a month ago: "The world holds endless suffering, Harry. If you try to heal everyone, you'll lose yourself in the attempt." Perenelle had added, "Your childhood matters too. You can't spend these years carrying the weight of every cursed person's pain."

Yet Antoine's sobs still echoed in his mind. The raw desperation in Judge Laurent's voice as he begged for someone to help his son... Harry knew he couldn't ignore cases like that. But where should he draw the line?

"I can't promise regular visits," Harry spoke, letting out a deep breath before looking the healer in the eyes. "But maybe... maybe we could start with the worst cases? The ones where there is no hope for the future?"

The healer's eyes widened, her lips curving into an eager smile. "Even that would be very helpful! We have many patients right now who-"

"Through proper channels," Dumbledore interrupted gently, returning to Harry's side. "Any arrangements should be made with Mr. Potter's guardians present."

Harry nodded gratefully at Dumbledore.

The healer pulled out a card. "Of course. Please, have your guardians contact me when convenient. And... thank you for considering it."