Halloween

The night before Halloween was calm, but Harry found no rest in the stillness. Lying in his bed in the Ravenclaw dormitory, he stared up at the ceiling, his mind swirling with everything he had learned over the past few weeks. The prophecy, his parents' final moments, Voldemort's continued existence—it was all a lot to bear.

But tonight, there was something else occupying his mind. He had been working on constructing his Mind Palace, following the complex steps to ensure it was secure and efficient. It was a mental technique his grandfather had introduced him to and Arcturus continued to check his mental shields, and it had quickly become a vital part of his training—especially after all the new information he had been receiving.

He closed his eyes and mentally accessed the structure he had been building. It felt more tangible than ever now, a sanctuary within his own mind where he could organize and sort through his thoughts, memories, and secrets. He had nearly completed the fourth step: placing defenses around the palace.

The earlier stages had been challenging in their own right. First, emptying the mind—clearing away distractions and unnecessary thoughts—had been a difficult hurdle, especially given the amount of chaos swirling in his life. Then came organizing and sorting the information efficiently, a step that involved categorizing everything he knew, from school lessons to personal memories, making them easier to access.

Next the fifth step, the defenses he was placing around the palace were nearly complete. These mental barriers would protect his most important thoughts from intrusion. He had to set up different layers of protection: simple defenses for trivial memories, but for the deeply guarded ones—such as the prophecy, his knowledge of Merlin and Morgana's lessons, and his parents' death—he was crafting the strongest walls he could. Soon, he would move on to the next steps.

As he concentrated on the process, checking every corner of his mental fortress for weaknesses, he didn't notice that his friends, Eleanor and Valerie, had entered the room.

"Harry?" Eleanor's soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see the two Ravenclaws standing by his bed, their expressions filled with concern.

"You've been distant lately," Valerie added, crossing her arms. "We're worried about you. Is everything okay?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, then sat up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… a lot on my mind," he replied, trying to sound casual. "I'll tell you both about it later. It's not something I can talk about right now."

Eleanor narrowed her eyes slightly. "You've been saying 'later' for days, Harry. If something's bothering you, we can help."

Harry looked between the two of them, feeling a pang of guilt. He appreciated their concern, but how could he explain everything that had happened? How could he tell them about the prophecy, about Voldemort's survival, about his parents' deaths? It was too much—too dangerous, even. They were his closest friends, but there were some things he couldn't share yet.

"I promise I'll explain everything when the time is right," Harry said, hoping they would understand. "I just need to figure things out first."

Valerie sighed but didn't press further, she was usually ignorant and aloof to others, her caring side was only known to her close friends. "Fine, but don't shut us out, okay? We're your friends. We're here for you."

Eleanor nodded in agreement, her eyes softening. "We'll be waiting when you're ready."

Harry gave them both a small smile. "Thanks. I mean it."

They lingered for a moment longer before finally heading back to their own dorms, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts once more. As the door closed behind them, Harry leaned back, closing his eyes again and returning to his Mind Palace. He had to focus—focus on building the defenses, focus on protecting what he had learned.

He visualized the palace, imagining the walls solidifying, thickening with each passing moment. The memories were already being sorted and locked into place, but now they were guarded—only accessible to him and those he allowed in.

He imagined the trivial memories at the outer edges—his first lessons at Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat's choice to put him in Ravenclaw, his experiences with his friends in the common room. These were surrounded by weaker defenses, like an easily opened gate.

Further in, more precious memories were safeguarded—his godfather, Sirius, and the time they had spent together, the moments of joy he had shared with Euphemia Potter, the lessons from Cosmos that enabled him to bend space to his will. These memories were protected by walls of stone, thick and tall.

At the very center, though, were the memories he needed to guard the most fiercely—the prophecy, the truth about Voldemort's survival, the night his parents died. These were fortified with the strongest defenses he could create: layers of enchantments, mental traps, and shifting pathways that would confuse any intruder. Only he had the key to unlocking them.

The next step, Harry thought to himself. Find my core.

He wasn't quite ready for that yet, but he was close. The core was where his deepest self resided, and merging with it would give him mastery over his mind and body. It would allow him to wipe his thoughts clean at will, to control his body's response to pain, pleasure, and fear.

Harry took a deep breath, feeling the progress he had made. He wasn't done yet, but the Mind Palace was taking shape. Soon, it would be complete, and he would have the mental fortitude he needed to keep out most of them, right now only a very few could break into his mind like Arcturus, Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort. He planned to rectify it soon, to ensure his mental defenses were up to the mark to hold of any threat.

For now, though, he would rest. Tomorrow was Halloween, and he had important things to discuss with his family and friends. The prophecy, Voldemort's survival, his own destiny—it would all come to light soon enough.

It was Halloween morning, and despite the festive decorations that adorned the halls of Hogwarts, Harry felt a bit down. The weight of the prophecy and the revelations from his conversations with Dumbledore had left him more contemplative than usual. He, Eleanor, and Valerie were making their way to double Charms, a class they shared with the Gryffindors, but Harry's mind was elsewhere, quietly they greeted Neville and Hydrus with a nod.

As they entered the Charms classroom, Professor Flitwick was already standing on his stack of books, greeting the students with his usual cheery demeanor. "Good morning, everyone! Today, we'll be starting with the Levitation Charm—Wingardium Leviosa!—and perfecting the precision of the spell."

Harry, Eleanor, and Valerie settled into their usual spot in the classroom. They were known as a capable trio in Ravenclaw, excelling in most of their subjects, (Harry by now called a prodigy for his natural excellence in all of the subjects except potions where he always was graded less by the spiteful potions master), especially in Charms, where Valerie in particular seemed to have a natural gift. It wasn't uncommon for Professor Flitwick to give them a small nod of approval after they performed a spell successfully.

Not far from them, Harry noticed Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Hermione was busily preparing her things, while Ron sat slouched in his seat, looking bored. Hydrus and Neville along with Parvati seemed to be engrossed in playful banter

"Alright, wands at the ready!" Professor Flitwick instructed. "Let's pair up, practice the charm, and see how much we've improved!"

Harry paired with Eleanor, while Valerie worked with Neville and Hydrus paired with Parvati Patil. On the other side of the room, Hermione had paired herself with Ron, who didn't seem too thrilled by the arrangement.

Hermione's voice carried over the din of the classroom. "Wingardium Leviosa! It's pronounced with emphasis on the gar."

Ron scowled at her. "I know how to say it, Granger. Stop bossing me around."

"I'm not bossing you," Hermione replied, sounding hurt. "I'm just trying to help—"

"Well, I don't need your help!" Ron snapped, waving his wand in frustration. The feather they were practicing on didn't so much as twitch.

Hermione's face fell, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She tried again, but the spell faltered under the weight of Ron's rudeness. It was clear she was upset, and her confidence was wavering.

Meanwhile, Harry, Eleanor, Valerie, Hydrus had already performed the spell effortlessly. Their feathers hovered in the air with precision, thanks to Harry's quick understanding of the charm.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry said, flicking his wand in the perfect swish-and-flick motion. The feather in front of him floated gracefully into the air, drawing the attention of a few nearby students as it was the first time casting it in the class, including Hermione.

Eleanor's feather hovered next to his, both moving in sync as they practiced together. Valerie, too, had her feather up in the air without much difficulty. Hydrus had it immediately alongside Valerie, while Neville's feather was just being lifted erratically( a sign he didnt have complete control), so Harry told a few tips to him on exerting his will on the feather. Emboldened Neville tried the charm again and the feather flew with proper control

Hermione glanced over at them, her expression hardening. She had always prided herself on her knowledge and skill, but when it came to Harry, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow cheating. Every spell, every charm—they all seemed to come so easily to him, in all the classes, and most of the time he performed the spells on his first try in the class. It made her feel inadequate, and today, after Ron's rude comments, it stung even more.

"Nice one, Harry!" Valerie said, smiling as she watched his feather float higher.

Harry nodded but didn't feel particularly excited about it. The praise felt hollow today. His mind was too preoccupied with everything else—his upcoming talk with his godfather Sirius, the prophecy hanging over his head, and the complex emotions swirling around him. He glanced over at Hermione, noticing her downcast expression as Ron muttered something under his breath.

Professor Flitwick noticed as well. "Ah, well done, Mr. Potter! And Miss Malfoy, very nice form. Excellent control, Miss Eleanor! 5 points to each of you" he beamed at their performance before turning to the other students. "Now, remember everyone, focus on the wand movement and the pronunciation. This is delicate work!"

As the class continued, Harry couldn't help but overhear Ron whispering to Seamus, "Honestly, I don't get what's so special about him. He always gets the spell on his first try. Bet he's doing something to cheat."

Hermione didn't join in the conversation, but Harry could sense her unease. It wasn't the first time she had cast suspicious glances his way. She'd never said it outright, but he knew she thought he was somehow finding shortcuts or was unnaturally talented. But the truth was, Harry had spent hours studying and practicing—especially after his own private training with Cosmos, portraits in his home, and the astral projections of Merlin and Morgana.

The class eventually ended, but Hermione left quickly, not waiting to talk to Ron or anyone else. She hurried out of the room with her head down, and Harry could tell she was upset. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, knowing how hard she tried to prove herself. But it wasn't his place to step in, not with how distant they had been, and how rude she had been to him and his friends

As Harry left the Charms classroom and made his way to lunch, he could feel the weight of his friends' eyes on him. He knew they had noticed his growing distraction over the past few days, but today, it was more than obvious. The events of Halloween were stirring emotions he wasn't ready to confront in front of them, but it seemed he wouldn't have much of a choice.

After lunch, as they gathered in the courtyard, Valerie, Eleanor, and the others gathered around him. They were a diverse and formidable group—an unlikely alliance spanning all four houses. Each of them was loyal to Harry, and each of them cared enough to notice when something was wrong.

"Alright, Harry," Valerie said, crossing her arms as she stood next to Eleanor. "We've let you get away with being all secretive and broody for days, but now, we need to know what's going on."

Eleanor nodded in agreement. "You've been so quiet lately, it's not like you. What's bothering you?"

Around them stood the rest of his friends. Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davies exchanged curious glances, while Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, always calm and observant, waited silently for Harry to speak. Hydrus Black, who had developed a tight bond with Harry, was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed but his sharp eyes focused on him. Neville Longbottom stood with concern in his eyes, and nearby, Susan Bones and Nymphadora Tonks, a bit older but still close to the group, both watched him closely. Phoebe Lestrange, stood with her hands on her hips, also waiting for an explanation.

Harry took a deep breath. He couldn't keep this from them any longer, but he wasn't ready to spill everything just yet.

"I know I've been... distant," Harry began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "And I'm sorry for that. It's just… there's a lot going on right now, and it's hard to talk about it all at once."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "We can see that. But we're your friends. You don't have to keep us in the dark."

Draco nodded in agreement, uncharacteristically silent but supportive of his good friend.

Harry sighed, looking at the circle of faces around him, all of them filled with genuine concern. "I know, and I promise, I'm not trying to shut you out. There's just something important I need to deal with first. But I swear, by this evening, everything will be cleared up."

"Why this evening?" asked Tracy, her Slytherin curiosity piqued. "What happens then?"

"I've asked all your guardians to pick you up," Harry explained, watching their eyes widen in surprise. "I have something important to discuss with all of you, but it has to wait until tonight. They'll come to take you home for the day before dinner."

"You asked our guardians to pick us up?" Blaise said, the disbelief clear in his voice. "You've been busy."

Harry gave a small, half-hearted smile. "Yeah, I guess I have. But trust me, it's important. I can't tell you everything right now because I have something I need to take care of. I'm going to leave early—right now, actually—through Professor McGonagall's office."

Nymphadora, standing next to Susan, furrowed her brow. "So, what are we supposed to do until then? Just wait?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I need you to trust me on this. I'm not running away from anything, I just… There's something personal I need to do first. Afterward, I'll explain everything."

Neville, who had been quiet up until this point, stepped forward. "Are you sure you're alright, Harry? I mean, we don't want to pressure you, but it seems like you're carrying a lot."

Harry gave his friend a grateful look. "I'll be okay, Neville. I promise. I just need to deal with some things on my own for a few hours."

The group exchanged glances, some clearly frustrated by the vagueness of his explanation, but none of them pushed further. Valerie was the first to speak again, her voice soft but firm. "Alright, Harry. We trust you. But you'd better tell us everything tonight."

"I will," Harry promised. "Tonight, you'll know everything."

"Fine," Eleanor sighed. "But you owe us."

Harry smiled faintly. "I do. Thank you."

With that, he gave them a final nod and turned on his heel, heading toward Professor McGonagall's office. His friends watched him leave, the air thick with unspoken questions and concern. They knew he was hiding something, but they trusted him enough to wait for a bit.

Once Harry reached McGonagall's office, she was waiting for him, as arranged. She gave him a small smile and a nod as he stepped inside. "Mr. Potter. You can use the floo, as requested."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, taking a small handful of floo powder from her offered cup from her desk.

With a tap of McGonagall's wand, the fireplace activated, and Harry felt the familiar weird sensation of travelling through the floo after speaking the name of the location 'Potter Manor' . Seconds later, he found himself standing in the foyer of Potter Manor.

The comforting warmth of the place made Harry feel slightly more at ease. But his thoughts quickly shifted as he saw his grandmother, Euphemia Potter, waiting for him in the grand hall. Beside her stood Sirius Black, his godfather, along with Remus Lupin, Frank and Alice Longbottom, and Arcturus Black, Sirius' grandfather.

Euphemia stepped forward, her eyes filled with warmth and concern. "Harry, you're right on time."

Sirius grinned, though his eyes were sharp with curiosity. "We've all gathered, just like you asked. What's this all about, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment press down on him. "There's a lot I need to tell you all. And it's… it's important," he began, his voice low but steady. "But first, I need you to know that everything I'm about to say tonight, I've only just recently learned myself. It's about the prophecy, my parents, and Voldemort. But…" He paused, looking around at the familiar faces of his family and closest allies, "before anything else, I'd like to visit their graves… as you all promised."

There was a brief moment of silence as those around him absorbed his words. His godfather Sirius, standing nearest to him, gave a short nod, his eyes softening with understanding. Euphemia Potter, his grandmother, stepped forward, her expression maternal and protective, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure, Harry?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I need to do this."

The group exchanged silent looks of agreement, then together, they made their way beyond the protective wards of Potter Manor. One by one, they Apparated to Godric's Hollow, the village where it had all begun—and where it had all ended, for Harry's parents.

The village itself was quiet as they walked toward the small cemetery. The autumn air was cool, the leaves beginning to turn shades of gold and red, a beautiful but solemn reminder of the passage of time. Harry felt his heart race as they approached the last resting place of his parents—James and Lily Potter. It would be his first time standing before their graves, and the reality of it began to sink in with each step.

When they reached the graveyard, Euphemia pointed the way toward a modest headstone, its surface clean but clearly weathered by the years. The names of his parents were etched into the stone, and Harry stood frozen for a moment, staring at the finality of it.

His heart pounded in his chest as he knelt in front of the gravestone. Sirius, Remus, and the others stood respectfully behind him, giving him space. A nearby shop had provided them with freshly picked flowers, and they gently placed the blossoms at the base of the grave. Sirius had chosen red and gold lilies for courage and protection, and Euphemia had added white roses for innocence and remembrance. The simple gesture felt profound in the stillness of the moment.

One by one, they each took a moment to silently converse with the tombstones. Sirius stepped forward first, resting his hand on the top of the stone and muttering something softly that only he and the wind could hear. His eyes were dark with emotion as he stood, and after a moment, he stepped back. Remus followed, saying nothing but closing his eyes for a brief moment, as though offering a silent prayer. Alice and Frank, standing together, each bowed their heads in respect, offering silent condolences to the friends they had lost so long ago.

When it was Harry's turn, he hesitated. The weight of what he wanted to say threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew he needed to speak.

He knelt down, his fingers brushing the cool stone, and took a deep breath. "Mum… Dad… I know this is the first time I've ever come here, and I'm sorry for that." His voice trembled slightly, but he continued. "I… I'm in Hogwarts now. I'm a first year. And I've been doing well. People think I'm a prodigy, that I'm some kind of natural with magic. Most of the spells I've tried, I've gotten them on the first go, even with the training, grandfather feels I am rather good at casting spells and such."

He smiled faintly, his eyes glazing with tears. "It's kind of strange, actually, doing all these things. Sometimes I feel like I'm carrying the weight of so many expectations. People look at me and they see 'The Boy Who Lived,' but all I've ever wanted to be is just… Harry."

He paused, his throat tightening as the next words spilled out. "I saw it. I saw what happened that night. Dumbledore showed me. How you both fought to protect me… how you didn't even hesitate." His voice broke, and he took a moment to collect himself. "I just wanted to say… thank you. I know I'm still figuring things out, but… thank you for fighting for me. I'll make sure your sacrifice wasn't in vain."

He stood up slowly, brushing away the tear that had slipped down his cheek, and after one last glance at the grave, he stepped back. The others stood in silence, allowing Harry the moment to process his emotions before they began making their way back out of the graveyard.

Back at Potter Manor, the atmosphere was somber but supportive. In a private sitting room, the gathering became more intimate. Only Harry's closest family and the Blacks, Malfoys, Lestranges, Tonks, Bones, and Longbottoms remained—his inner circle of trust. The Greengrasses, Davies, and Zabinis, Harry had decided, would learn the details later, once their alliance was official.

As they settled into their seats, Harry took a deep breath, ready to unburden himself of the truth. The silence in the room felt heavy, as if everyone present knew that what Harry was about to say would change things forever.

He began to recount everything from the beginning—his first weeks at Hogwarts, his unexpected appointment as a Ravenclaw, and how he had settled into the magical world. He described his early interactions with Snape, the man he now despised for his cruelty and inexplicable hatred. At the mention of Snape, Sirius's face twisted with rage.

"Snivellus," Sirius spat, the name filled with venom. "I knew he couldn't be trusted. I can't believe Dumbledore lets him near you."

Harry shared his frustrations with Quirrell's incompetence as well, but quickly steered the conversation toward the real reason they had gathered. He told them about Dumbledore's office, the memories he had been shown, and—finally—the prophecy.

As Harry recited the words of the prophecy, he could feel the tension in the room rise. When he finished, there was a heavy silence, each person digesting the implications of the prophecy.

"So, it's true then," Regulus Black muttered, his old voice trembling slightly. "You're the one who will face him. The one who can end him."

"Not really, that's up to our own interpretation," Harry said, his voice steady despite the gravity of his words. "But Dumbledore thinks it's about choice. About how I choose to face him."

"But how did the dark lord know of the prophecy?" Narcissa asked him, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"I had forgotten about it, after seeing the memories my mind was so occupied, but I will ask the headmaster" Harry assured them.

"And I will have a chat with our old friend about the reasons for hiding it from me for so long" Euphemia swore, a little anger visible on her face, though she and Minerva were good friends, she had seen Albus as a sort of mentor, for recognizing her talents in the potion making field and convincing Horace Slughorn too teach her potions 2 years in advance, in her eyes her trust was misplaced.

Frank and Alice exchanged worried glances and leaned forward, their hands gripping the edge of his chair tightly. "Harry… we'll do everything we can to protect you, to prepare you for this."

Harry nodded but continued. "There's something else," he said quietly. "It's something Dumbledore doesn't know—something no one knows yet. But I need to show you, Grandma, and you, Arcturus."

Euphemia Potter and Arcturus Black exchanged curious glances, but they said nothing as Harry reached out his hand. With a soft whistle, a magnificent phoenix appeared out of nowhere, materializing from the air itself.

The bird shimmered with an ethereal glow, and its feathers seemed to glow bright emerald green, as if the very fabric of time and space swirled within it. "This," Harry said, as everyone stared in awe at the creature, "is Cosmos. A phoenix that controls space and time. And Cosmos… well, he's been training me."

The room was filled with gasps of astonishment, but Euphemia and Arcturus remained calm, though their eyes were wide with wonder. "Merlin's beard," whispered Remus.

Harry shifted in his seat, glancing around the room before speaking again. His heart raced, but he knew that what he was about to say could change everything.

"I… met Merlin and Morgana," Harry said slowly, his voice steady yet laced with the weight of the revelation. The atmosphere in the room, already heavy with the tension of the prophecy, seemed to still even further. Everyone froze, staring at him in shock.

Sirius blinked, clearly unsure if he'd heard correctly. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

Harry nodded, his gaze sweeping across the room to meet the disbelieving eyes of those closest to him. "It sounds impossible, I know. But it's true. I met Merlin and Morgana."

Amelia Bones, who had remained mostly silent, now leaned forward, her dark eyes narrowing in both curiosity and skepticism. "Merlin and Morgana?" she repeated, her voice low and soft. "You met them?"

Euphemia Potter, seated next to Harry, reached out and placed a calming hand on his arm, though her own eyes were wide with shock. "Harry," she said softly, "how is this possible?"

Harry took a deep breath, feeling Cosmos stir at his side, then he jumped into explaining to them about those weird dreams and how through the guidance of those two and Cosmos he met an instrument that would project their astral forms enabling him to be trained by them. "It's because of Cosmos," he explained, nodding toward the ethereal phoenix that perched nearby, watching the room with a silent, regal gaze. "He's not just any phoenix. He controls time and space. And because of him I have gained quite significant abilities which could hypothetically create or destroy entire cities on the casters whims. Due to this power I've been able to connect with them. Merlin and Morgana… they've been training me to enable myself to protect all of us from whatever was troubling them."

Gasps rippled through the room, and Harry could see the stunned expressions on the faces of those around him. Even Remus, who was usually calm and collected, seemed visibly shaken by the revelation.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, his face a mix of disbelief and awe. "Merlin… the Merlin? The most powerful wizard who ever lived? He's been training you?"

Harry nodded again. "Yes. Along with Morgana. They've taught me things I never imagined—about magic, about the very fabric of history, and even the origin of certain magics. It has surely changed my worldview. It's how I've been able to learn so much so quickly, how I've been able to perform spells that should be beyond a first-year's capabilities."

Arcturus leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "This changes everything," he murmured. "If Merlin and Morgana have taken an interest in you, Harry, then there is far more at play than we ever realized. The ancient magics, the old ways…"

"I know," Harry said, his voice growing stronger. "I don't fully understand everything yet, but I'm beginning to see that this is all part of a much larger plan. A plan that goes beyond the defeat of Voldemort. I still don't know if I can trust them both, but the visions they showed me looked so real, I don't want our world becoming like that."

The room was silent for a moment as everyone digested his words. Sirius finally broke the silence, his voice low. "And Cosmos—he's connected to all of this?"

Harry turned toward the phoenix, who met his gaze with a serene, knowing look. "I believe so," Harry said. "Cosmos is the key. Through him, I've been able to reach into realms of magic that are ancient, almost forgotten and learn them. He's helped me train in ways I couldn't have imagined."

Euphemia's voice broke through the silence, gentle but firm. "Harry," she began, her tone filled with concern, "this power… it's beyond anything we've ever encountered. But you must be cautious. Merlin and Morgana were great, yes, but their teachings were not without danger."

Harry nodded. "I know. That's why I haven't told anyone until now. Not even Dumbledore knows. This is too big, too dangerous, to share without caution."

Arcturus's voice was sharp as he interjected. "And you're right to be cautious. Not everyone can be trusted with this kind of information." He glanced around the room. "Even those closest to you, Harry, must be ready to protect this knowledge. If it falls into the wrong hands…"

Harry met his gaze and nodded solemnly. "That's why I need your advice. How much should I reveal? To my friends, to others who may help… what's safe to share?"

Alice sat in thought for a moment before responding. "Your friends, Harry—they're loyal. But as Arcturus said, loyalty isn't always enough when it comes to matters like these. You need to consider their ability to protect their minds—Occlumency."

Harry nodded, already aware of the necessity of mental defenses. "I know. That's why I've been cautious so far. Only those who I trust completely, and who are ready to defend themselves, can know the full extent of what's happening."

Bellatrix crossed her arms, her face set in a serious expression. "Occlumency is no joke, Harry. Your friends might not be ready to guard their minds against a threat like Voldemort or his followers."

"I'm aware of that," Harry replied, his voice firm. "That's why I haven't told them yet. I'll make sure they're prepared before they learn anything too dangerous. But they need to know some of it—enough to understand what we're up against."

Ted Tonks nodded in agreement, his sharp gaze focused on Harry. "You're wise to be cautious. The power you're wielding, the knowledge you're uncovering—it's dangerous. And if your friends aren't ready, it could destroy them."

Harry took a deep breath, absorbing the gravity of the situation. He knew the risks, but had to think on how much would be safe to reveal, both to them and himself.

Euphemia's voice softened, her eyes filled with maternal concern. "Harry, you've grown so much in such a short time. But don't forget—you're still young. You don't have to carry this weight on your own."

Harry gave her a small smile. "I know, Grandma. That's why I'm telling you all now. I don't want to do this alone."

The room was quiet for a moment, each person lost in their own thoughts. The adults exchanged looks, their faces filled with concern for Harry.

After a long pause, Arcturus broke the silence. "This war, Harry—it's not just about Voldemort anymore. If Merlin and Morgana have a stake in this, then we're dealing with forces far older and more powerful than we ever imagined."

Harry nodded, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "And that's why I have to be ready."

Euphemia reached out and gently squeezed Harry's hand. "You're not alone in this, Harry. We'll help you. We'll prepare you for what's to come."

"And I'll make sure your friends are ready too," Sirius added, his voice resolute. "We'll teach them Occlumency, make sure they're strong enough to handle the truth when the time comes."

Harry nodded gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He wasn't alone. Now he had to await his friends.

The air was crisp as evening fell, and Harry's friends began arriving at the Potter Manor, their faces marked with a mix of curiosity and concern. They had all received his message, and now they were here, waiting for answers.

Harry stood in the grand hall, feeling the weight of what he was about to share. He glanced toward Sirius, Remus, and his grandmother for support. They gave him silent nods of encouragement before stepping back, allowing him the space to speak with his friends.

As they gathered around him—Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davies, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, Hydrus Black, Neville Longbottom, Susan Bones and Nymphadora Tonks, Phoebe Lestrange, Eleanor Black and Valerie Malfoy—Harry could see the anticipation in their eyes. Each one had become a crucial part of his life over the last few years, infact they were his only friends at the moment, and now he was about to trust them with something that could alter how they viewed him.

Taking a deep breath, Harry spoke. "Thank you all for coming. I know I've been distant lately, and I'm sorry. But there's something important I need to share with you—something that could affect all of us in a way, as you all are my closest friends and this affects me directly."

The room fell silent, and Harry felt his heart racing. He glanced at Daphne first, who met his gaze with a steady look.

"It's about the prophecy," Harry said, his voice soft but clear. "The one Dumbledore showed me. It's about Voldemort… and me."

Daphne's eyes widened slightly, her composed demeanor faltering for just a second. "A prophecy?" she looked confused but could suppress it a bit. "What did it say?"

Harry took another deep breath, and then he recited the prophecy, his voice shaking slightly as the words echoed in the room: "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

There was a heavy silence as the words sank in. Harry looked around at his friends, gauging their reactions.

Draco was the first to speak, his usual bravado replaced by a serious tone. "So… it's you? You're the one who has to defeat him?" There was no hint of mockery in his voice, just genuine shock.

Harry nodded. "Yes. That's what the prophecy says. But I think it's up to each person's own interpretation, Dumbledore believes that Voldemort trusts the prophecy even though he heard only a part of it, hence he would come after me, the headmaster believes he is alive". Harry alsi knew he was alive due to the horcrux removed from him, but they didn't need to know that.

Susan, who stood next to Draco, crossed her arms, her face thoughtful. "And Dumbledore believes this? That it's up to you to face him?"

"He does," Harry confirmed, meeting Blaise's questioning gaze. "He's done a lot of research on the prophecy, and it was told directly to him. I don't know what to believe."

Hydrus, standing beside Draco, frowned. "And what does that mean for us? For everyone else? Are we just supposed to sit back and let this happen?"

"No," Harry replied quickly, his voice firm. "That's not what I want. I need you all to know because… I want to warn you that trouble will find me and I am giving you all a chance to distance yourselves from me. I don't want to do this alone. I need your help but ultimately in the end it's your choice to make."

"Don't believe we will abandon you just because of some stupid prophecy Harry, I had the displeasure of meeting Trewlawney, and I personally don't believe such prophetic things, but we will never leave you to face it alone" Tonks bellowed indignantly.

"Yep we are like brothers remember, we will stand with you till the end, this has been going on for the past 5 generations, the Longbottoms and Potters facing issues together" Neville told him with a quiet but determined voice, and all of them nodded at the statement.

Tracy stepped forward, her voice calm but serious. "Help how? What are we supposed to do?"

Harry looked at her gratefully. "Train. Prepare. Dumbledore has been clear that Voldemort is still out there, and I know he'll come for me again. I want to be ready. I want all of us to be ready."

Blaise stated a bit anxiously(a bit unusual for the boy). "Then we'll help you. Whatever it takes, Harry. I'm not letting him win again." Her words carried the weight of personal loss, her family's history with Voldemort well known to them all.

Susan said. "You're not alone, Harry. We're in this together, and we're going to fight. I also want to avenge the man who was the reason most of my family was wiped out, so I will definitely help you all."

Valerie, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, her voice steady. "So what if he is alive, we will stand with you when you defeat him and do not doubt for once Harry that you won't, we all will train rigorously for this"

Eleanor told stubbornly "We've trained together, Harry, and we'll train harder. You're a friend, and Blacks don't abandon the ones who trust them."

Phoebe Lestrange, usually reserved, finally spoke, her voice filled with quiet conviction. "You're my friend, Harry. And I know what's at stake. We'll stand by you, no matter what."

Daphne, who had been silently processing everything, finally stepped forward again. "This isn't just about you, Harry. This is about all of us. Voldemort… he's not just your enemy. He's a threat to everything we care about. If you're going to face him, we're going to face him with you."

Tracy nodded in agreement, her eyes sharp. "We're going to get stronger. All of us. We'll be ready."

Harry looked at his friends, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and determination. He had feared how they might react, but they were standing with him, ready to fight.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't tell you how much this means. I didn't want to put any of you in danger, but… I can't do this without you."

"We're in this together," Daphne said firmly, her eyes locking with his. "So what's the plan?"

Harry took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their loyalty and support. "We train. Harder than ever before. Dumbledore's already offered to help, and I'm going to make sure we're all prepared. This isn't going to be easy, but I believe we can do it. We have to."

They all nodded in agreement, each of them ready to take on the challenge.

Draco smirked slightly, though there was no mockery in it, there was a hint of sarcasm. "Looks like you're stuck with us, Harry- the boy or questionably object without emotions- who lived Potter."

Harry cracked a smile back, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As the conversation settled, the door creaked open, and Arcturus Black stepped into the room, his imposing presence immediately commanding attention. He had been quietly listening to Harry and his friends, assessing their resolve. Now, it was time for him to offer his guidance.

"While your loyalty to each other is commendable," Arcturus began, his voice deep and authoritative, "you must also understand that loyalty alone will not protect you from what is to come. The Dark Lord will stop at nothing to exploit any weakness, including your minds."

The room went silent as they all turned to listen, recognizing the weight of Arcturus's words. He took a few steps closer, his gaze sharp as he looked at each one of them in turn.

"You've all begun learning basic Occlumency," he continued, his tone measured but firm. "It's a start, but it's not enough. You need to go deeper, strengthen your mental defenses beyond what you've been practicing. Occlumency is the art of shielding your thoughts, and without it, your mind is an open book to skilled Legilimens. You cannot afford to let anyone—especially enemies—see what you're thinking or feeling. That could be fatal."

Arcturus's stern gaze landed on Harry. "Especially you, Harry. The Dark Lord will come for your mind sooner or later, and if you're not prepared, you will lose before the battle even begins."

Harry swallowed hard, feeling the gravity of his great-grandfather's warning.

Arcturus then addressed the whole group. "I've given you all books to study. I expect each of you to read them thoroughly. These aren't just theoretical guides; they're practical tools to help you build up your mental barriers, to strengthen your Occlumency. It's not just about blocking out thoughts but organizing them, learning to compartmentalize, and locking away your most dangerous secrets."

Daphne nodded solemnly. "We'll do it. We'll read the books and train harder."

"Good," Arcturus said, his gaze sweeping across the room. "Because I'm not just leaving it at that. At the end of the year, after your exams, I will personally test each of you. I will know how strong your mental shields are, and if they're not strong enough, I'll know."

Draco, always one to meet a challenge head-on, crossed his arms, his expression calm but determined. "And what if we're not ready?"

"Then I'll make sure you are," Arcturus replied without missing a beat. "Failure is not an option here. You will learn to defend your minds, or you will be exposed to dangers far worse than you can imagine."

Neville, usually the most uncertain of the group, spoke up. "But how do we make sure we're ready? Occlumency isn't easy. Some of us are still struggling with the basics."

Arcturus nodded, acknowledging the difficulty. "Occlumency is a discipline, Scion Longbottom. It takes time, but you have to start now. Practice every day, even if it feels like you're getting nowhere. And don't be afraid to ask for help. This is not a solo endeavor. You're all in this together."

Hydrus looked thoughtful, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. "What about external threats? If we're stronger mentally, will that be enough to keep out skilled Legilimens, like… Snape?"

A shadow of irritation crossed Arcturus's face at the mention of Snape. "Professor Snape is skilled, yes. But there are others out there who are far worse, far more experienced, and far more dangerous. Snape is not your greatest threat, at least not for now. But, once your shields are strong enough, even he won't be able to break through without you knowing."

Tonks, always eager to jump into action, nodded enthusiastically. "We'll do it. We'll start training harder, like Harry said, and we'll make sure our minds are as strong as our spells."

"Exactly," Arcturus agreed, his expression softening slightly. "You're all talented, no doubt about that. But you need more than raw power. You need discipline, focus, and the ability to keep your thoughts hidden from those who would use them against you."

Harry felt a new sense of urgency building inside him. Arcturus was right—Voldemort was not just a physical threat, but a mental one. And if he was going to stand any chance of defeating him, he would need to fortify his mind as well as his magic.

"You all have potential," Arcturus continued. "But potential without hard work means nothing. Train your minds. Strengthen your defenses. And remember, I will test you when the time comes. Fail to prepare, and you fail yourself, and more importantly—you fail Harry."

His words hung heavy in the air as his gaze locked on each of them, driving home the importance of what lay ahead. Arcturus, despite his harshness, wanted to protect them all, to make them as strong as possible for what was to come.

"Now go," he said finally, dismissing them. "You've got work to do."

The group slowly dispersed, murmuring amongst themselves as they left the room. Harry lingered for a moment longer, glancing up at Arcturus.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, feeling the weight of everything that had just been said.

Arcturus nodded, his expression softening just slightly. "Remember what I said, Harry. Your mind is as much a weapon as your wand. Make sure it's sharp."

The Great Hall was alive with chatter and excitement as students settled in for dinner. The ceiling above mirrored the stormy night outside, casting a slightly eerie glow over the feast. Suddenly, the massive doors to the Hall burst open, and in it stumbled Professor Quirrell, looking more frantic than ever. His turban was askew, and his pale face was marked by pure terror.

"T-trolls! In the castle!" he gasped, his voice shaking. "Three trolls—in the castle!"

With those words, Quirrell collapsed in a faint, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

For a moment, the hall erupted into chaos. Screams filled the air, and students scrambled in confusion, jumping up from their seats.

Dumbledore was immediately on his feet, his voice booming over the crowd. "SILENCE!" he commanded, with a wave of his wand. A loud bang echoed through the hall, quieting the panic. The students stopped, frozen in place, as the headmaster's authoritative presence filled the room. "Madam Pomfrey, please take Professor Quirrell to the Hospital Wing," he instructed calmly. "Severus, help her."

Snape immediately moved to assist, his face unreadable, as he helped Madam Pomfrey lift the unconscious Professor and escort him out.

Dumbledore's eyes scanned the room, sharp and calculating. "Prefects, lead your houses back to your tables. No one is to leave the Great Hall under any circumstances."

The teachers moved quickly into action. "Minerva, Filius, stand guard here. Ensure the students remain safe," Dumbledore instructed Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick. They both nodded sharply, their wands already in hand, as they moved toward the doors.

Dumbledore's wand flicked upward briefly, sending out a shimmering wave of magic across the castle wards. In moments, he could sense the trolls' positions in the vast expanse of Hogwarts. His voice, now telepathically amplified through the wards, reached the ears of the professors.

"The largest troll is heading to the third-floor corridor. I'm dealing with it. Filius, Minerva, the other two are closer to the students. Handle them with care."

With that, Dumbledore turned on his heel and vanished with a crack, leaving the Great Hall under his staff's capable watch.

Parvati Patil almost bumped into Flitwick as she was running towards her head of the house who had already left the hall, he also turned to leave. "Professor! Hermione Granger is still in the bathroom! She doesn't know about the trolls!"

Flitwick's heart leapt with concern, but he quickly controlled his emotions. He nodded at Parvati. "Stay here. I'll handle it." His short stature might have misled many about his abilities, but Flitwick was a duelling champion and an expert in charms. He darted out of the hall, moving swiftly towards the girls' bathroom.

As he neared the door, he heard a crash, followed by Hermione's scream. Without hesitation, Flitwick blasted the door open with a spell, revealing the towering, brutish troll smashing its club into the walls. Hermione was cowering in the corner, frozen with fear.

"Get back, Miss Granger!" Flitwick commanded.

The troll roared, turning its ugly, slack-jawed face towards the Charms professor, raising its club to strike. Flitwick reacted immediately, his wand slashing through the air. "Confundus Impetus!"

A jet of light hit the troll directly in its thick skull, momentarily disorienting it. The troll staggered, dropping its club, but Flitwick knew he couldn't let up. He needed a stronger attack.

With precise wand movements, he cast Oppungo Aeris, summoning gusts of compressed air that struck the troll, forcing it back towards the bathroom stalls. The troll, however, was still formidable in its size and strength, and it began to recover, letting out a thunderous bellow as it charged.

Flitwick's small frame ducked quickly, avoiding a sweeping punch. He took a deep breath, his mind calculating. He needed to incapacitate the creature without causing too much destruction. His wand flicked again, this time casting a powerful Carcerem Suffoco—the suffocation charm. Invisible, tight bonds of air wrapped around the troll's head, cutting off its breathing. The troll stumbled, gasping and gurgling, unable to defend itself.

Within moments, its massive body fell to the floor with a heavy thud, dead from lack of air. Hermione gasped in relief as Flitwick walked over, offering her a reassuring smile. "You're safe now, Miss Granger. We will discuss later the reasons for why you were here instead of the great hall celebrating with others, come let me escort you to the great hall, go join your housemates and have some food, this is an order by the way. After that I want to take you to visit matron Pomrfrey to ascertain your welfare." 

Hermione nodded dejectedly and replied, "Yes professor."

Professor McGonagall's eyes were sharp as she patrolled the area near the Great Hall, her wand at the ready. The second troll was lumbering towards the entrance, its footsteps shaking the very ground beneath them. She could see the beast's towering form through the archway.

With a concentrated mind, McGonagall transformed into her animagus form—a sleek tabby cat—and darted around the corner to get a better position. The troll stomped forward, looking even larger up close. Returning to her human form, she summoned her magical strength and shouted, "Glacius!"

The spell hit the troll square in the chest, freezing it momentarily in its tracks. But it's brute strength and magically resistant skin fought against the paralysis, and it began to shake off the effects. McGonagall narrowed her eyes; she needed a stronger approach.

With a graceful flourish, she conjured a massive chain of transfigured metal from the stone floor beneath her, binding the troll's legs. The troll roared, trying to break free, but McGonagall wasn't done. She shifted into her animagus form again, leaping onto the troll's back before returning to her human form midair. Her wand pointed down.

"Caedes Aurae (Slaughter of the Air)!"

A thick layer of wind gushed from the surrounding, encasing the troll's neck and torso. Unable to move and off balance, the troll could only watch as the air sharpened and made deep cuts enough to sever its head and torso from the body. It lay immobile, struggling, but soon gave up, trapped by McGonagall's advanced Transfiguration, it bled to death.

Meanwhile, in the third-floor corridor, the largest troll stomped towards the forbidden section of the castle. It was even more menacing than the others—massive, with brutish arms and a spiked club that looked as if it could smash through walls with ease.

Dumbledore appeared in front of it silently, his robes billowing slightly from the magic he radiated. His sharp blue eyes took in the size and aggression of the creature, but his expression remained calm.

With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore cast Immobulus, freezing the air around the troll. Time itself seemed to slow down for the creature, its movements sluggish as it swung its club. With a swift flick, Dumbledore disarmed it completely, sending the club flying out of its hand and into the far wall.

The troll, confused but enraged, tried to lunge at him. Dumbledore sighed softly, then muttered, "Fulmen Contritus."

A dazzling arc of lightning shot from Dumbledore's wand, coiling around the troll. The troll howled in pain, stunned by the sheer force of the spell. Dumbledore stepped forward, still calm and collected.

Raising his hand, he summoned the very stone floor beneath the troll's feet to rise, encasing it in thick, immovable rock. In a matter of seconds, the troll was completely immobilized, bound by the very walls of the castle.

"Sleep now," Dumbledore said softly, and with a final spell, the troll collapsed, unconscious, under his magical grip.

He flicked his wand one last time, and the stone settled back into the floor, leaving the massive beast unconscious, subdued. He still avoided killing when he could, but sometimes felt such creatures did not deserve mercy.