“Alastor, please” he said. “This is a hospital.”

“Exactly! We’re here to see Weasley, not for you to stand there and stare at that blonde healer over there”

Remus looked faintly offended, “I’m not staring at her.”

Moody scoffed.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, the twins and Ginny were behind them waiting by the reception for their turn on the line, when it was their turn, the receptionist said “Good morning, how can I help you?”

Mrs. Weasley said “Hello dear, we’re here to see Arthur Weasley.”

“Of course. Mr. Weasley, first floor, in the ‘Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites, Lyra darling you’re off there now aren’t you? Can you walk them there?”

The blonde woman lifted her head from the papers she was reading, she had long dirty blonde hair which was half-up and tied with a delicate dusty-rose ribbon, turquoise eyes, and she looked to be at least thirty-three “Mr. Weasley’s family? Of course.”

She got up and they all followed her up to the ward, “Mr. Weasley, your family is here to see you.” Arthur Weasley looked up, though he was still a bit pale, he smiled at the sight of all of them, “Hello!”, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny both rushed to either sides of his bed, meanwhile Fred, George and Ron asked a million questions at a time to their father.

Lyra was standing at the other side of the room, reviewing some charts, Remus’s eyes wandered again to the blonde woman, he thought he wasn’t doing anything obvious, until Moody barked “LUPIN! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

He nearly dropped his wand out of fright “Alastor, would you stop yelling?”

The trip back to Grimmauld Place was just Moody growling, and complaining about the Ministry’s lack of competence, when they got into number 12 Grimmauld Place, they could hear Sirius arguing with Kreacher.

“I told you not to take those back, I’m throwing them out!”

“ILL-MANNERED MASTER, WHAT A DISGRACE, WHAT WOULD MISSTRESS SAY TO POOR OLD KREACHER?” he sniffed.

Sirius then noticed everyone back “Oh, how’d it go? How’s Arthur?”

“Arthur’s well, he’s doing a great recovery. He just needs to stay a few more weeks.” said Remus.

Moody scoffed again “It could’ve been better, if Lupin could keep his eyes to himself.”

“Oh?” said Sirius now looking dangerously interested.

“Staring at that blonde healer, with his mouth open like a starry-eyed schoolboy!”

Sirius looked at his friend “Remus?”

Remus gave him a warning look “Don’t.”

Sirius expression turned to one of profound amusement. “Was she pretty*?”

Why is it that only Humanity has no people capable of wielding the force known universally as “magic.”

-

I’ve seen so many stories where the statute of secrecy breaks as technology evolves, but what if it kept going? What if the statute evolved right along side it. What if humanity is the only species with a magical population that successfully hid themselves!

I can see taking this concept as crack or as a serious story.

Serious: the difficulties of hiding a population whilst they interact with other civilizations that have knowledge of magic

Crack: imagine a human delegation leaves a peace talks with only for there to be a knock on the door, a guy in flowing robes and a pointy hat pops in and says, “Hey, we have also came, but our society is kind of secret from the muggles so plz don’t say anything!”

The power of Harry's crazy ex-girlfriend who delved into necromancy and holy spells.

Basically, to use D&D terms, Harry's the tank, his ex is a cleric, they dated, Harry lives in constant terror because his mind is constantly running through things she could bring him back as.

No to Ginny. No to Hermione.

I like the thought of it being fleur. Maybe they met before the age of 9, promised to be together forever, the dursleys were only on vacation so they drag him back to England.

Or perhaps it's tonks, she could acquire the black family madness in a way.

Or maybe Daphne Greengrass.

The Potters are at the Burrow, enjoying lunch in the garden, when Ron takes yet another opportunity to tease Harry about having Draco Malfoy- the Death Eater for a brother-in-law. Harry has heard the joke often enough to know Ron considers it a reliable source of amusement, one he can return to whenever the conversation gets dull.

Daphne’s expression tightens. She had never been particularly supportive of her younger sister Astoria’s pursuit of Malfoy, but that doesn’t mean she appreciates anyone questioning her sister’s morals for marrying him. Harry, for his part, has never particularly liked Draco. Their history at Hogwarts has given him plenty of reasons to dislike the man, and becoming brothers-in-law hasn’t changed that. Still, Harry knows that openly attacking Draco’s suitability as a husband would hurt Daphne, who adores her sister and little niece and would never take kindly to anyone implying that her sister had questionable morals for choosing the child’s father.

Harry turns to Hermione for help. She catches his pleading look perfectly well but ignores it, clearly enjoying the spectacle from the sidelines. Old grudges died hard.

It’s not as though Harry hasn’t spoken to them about this before. He’s had separate conversations with both Ron and Hermione, hoping to get them to lay off the subject. But it hasn't worked.

Harry looks back at Ron, who seems entirely too pleased with himself.

Well, two can play at that game.

“Honestly, Ron, if we’re bringing up questionable romantic decisions from Hogwarts…” Harry trails off, glancing towards Fleur. “How are you managing at family dinners these days?”

Fleur, having caught his look, turns towards Harry, intrigued.

Ron’s smile falters. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Harry says, with fake innocence dripping in his tone. “I was just thinking how awkward it must be, having Fleur here after that memorable attempt you made at asking her out.”

Bill slowly lowers his fork. Fleur’s eyebrows shoot up, and then a delighted smile spreads across her face as she looks between Harry and Ron.

“Harry,” Daphne warns quietly, squeezing his thigh beneath the table.

He ignores her.

“Just curious,” Harry continues, warming to this subject. “Do you still carry a torch for our Fleur? Must be a bit of a predicament, having your old crush become your sister-in-law. Remember what you said at your Bachelor party...?"

Harry let the question hang. From this table, only George was present when Ron had drunkenly confessed to still finding Fleur the hottest witch. But the implication was all that was necessary.

Bill looks between his wife and his brother, his expression settling somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Fleur, meanwhile, tilts her head at Ron, clearly interested in hearing his answer.

Hermione’s gleeful expression vanishes. She looks like she'd swallowed a lemon. She, too, turns to get a good look at Ron's face.

Ron goes scarlet.

Silence descends upon the table.

Ouch.

Daphne had pinched Harry’s thigh. Hard. Only reason he didn't yelp was because he had seen it coming.

She told that twmffat Salazar that his stupid snake needed a muzzle, but did he listen? No. And godric just thought it was great fun, a fearsome beast to protect their home. Boys! Not that Rowena was any better, any chance to study the rare creature and she was happy. No it was only her who had a problem with it.

She had always been the odd one out, Higwart’s first master of witchcraft while the boys excelled in wizardry and Rowena was the scholar of the esoteric. But food had to get made, potions brewed, cloth woven, and clothes sewn. And they knew better than to anger her overly much. Slytherin at least consented to keeping the blasted thing in his chambers below the school rather than out on the grounds.

Estoy enganchado al tik tok, porque ahora se han puesto a crear con IA una versión de Harry Potter en la que Draco Malfoy es una chica y yo escribí hace tiempo algo parecido en Wattpad con un alumno de Gryffindor y una alumna de Slytherin...que si! Ya se que no inventé el fuego porque mucha gente lo hizo pero me sentí importante 😂😅

Sitting across from Professor Flitwick discussing the accusations she raised against Professor Snape a young Ravenclaw Irish witch named Muirenn Sionann's eyes glass over as she speaks in a tone like crystals signing in the forest wind. "The eye of the storm approaches. Shadows gather upon the horizon, and all will be brought to the brink. The Child of Light shall bring forth a new era of revitalization and the cycle shall begin anew. The eye of the storm approaches."

​

An alternate Harry Potter timeline

The prophecy changed everything.

Lily Potter heard it and reached a conclusion that James could not accept: if Voldemort intended to kill their son, then defeating him was no longer enough. They had to make sure he could never threaten Harry again.

She began developing a curse unlike anything recorded in the Ministry's archives.

Its victim remained conscious. The brain continued to function. The eyes could move, and the mind could understand everything happening around it. But the body became completely numb and unresponsive.

No wand movement. No countercurse. No escape.

Her first victim was Bellatrix Lestrange.

James was horrified.

He had married a woman who was brave, intelligent, and compassionate. He now watched her become vindictive, increasingly willing to inflict suffering on anyone she considered a threat. He separated from her, unable to reconcile the woman he loved with the witch she was becoming.

Then he remembered the prophecy.

Harry was still in danger.

James returned.

But unlike Lily, he did not try to perfect her curse. His mastery of magic had always surpassed hers, and he pursued a different solution.

He developed the Suicide Curse.

Its victims killed themselves after being struck by it. No visible wound. No spectacular explosion. No obvious sign of a duel. Just a person who, moments earlier, had been alive and then inexplicably chose to end their own life.

The curse was James's secret.

Lily immobilized her enemies.

James made them disappear from the world through their own actions.

And then, one winter evening, Lord Voldemort died.

He was found dead. There was no evidence of an intruder, no duel to investigate, no apparent explanation for his final moments.

The Ministry announced that the Dark Lord was dead.

The Death Eaters scattered.

The war ended.

Nobody knew why Tom Riddle had killed himself.

Nobody suspected James Potter.

And nobody understood that the most dangerous magic in Britain had not been created by Voldemort, but by the parents of the boy he had tried to kill.

Harry Potter grew up in a world where his parents were celebrated as heroes. He never learned what they had done to save him.

I am looking for Fanfictions in which Harry inquires about the school under which he was entered. That is a point I have not seen covered in any Fanfiction. The point of Harry's school? Will he get a representative judge? Is he in that school for one year only or will he continue there instead of Hogwarts?

Harry spluttered as he pulled himself and the odd creature out of the water. Ever since Uncle Vernon had gotten that promotion, the Dursley's had done a bunch of renovations to the house. Ranging from moving Harry to what had been Dudley's second bedroom to installing a pool in the back garden. Harry hadn't expected his first swim in said pool to be diving in in the middle of the night, rescuing some sort of alien that'd fallen from space.

He side eyed the blue creature, furry and spikey in equal measure. The oddest thing about it was that the only clothing it wore were a pair of white gloves and a set of red sneakers. " Um, I don't know if you can understand me," Harry said softly, "but are you okay? You fell an awful long way."

The creature hacked and spluttered for a few more minutes before looking at him sidewards with bright green eyes that matched Harry's own, a cocky smirk spreading across its face.

"Nah, I'm fine. Never better," He laughed. "I'm Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog. Pleasure to drop in on ya!"

It’s not fair! Colin got petrified, they said Justin died, Ginny was gone, and when Hogwarts reopens, Hermione is given the time turner only to go to class?? It’s not right! Why shouldn’t she try to save them?! They at least deserve someone trying to help them, it’s less than a year ago, and she knows it’s a basilisk now! Was it really meddling if she wasn’t sure Justin and Ginny died?

One of the main rules of going to the past is “you must not be seen”.

“Harry, could I borrow your invisibility cloak? Just for tonight?”

(Time travel open to either changing the past or the closed loop theory. Intent is that canon is the corrected version.)

Nine fifth-year Slytherins occupied the corner nearest the fireplace.

Draco Malfoy had claimed the largest armchair, with Pansy Parkinson perched on its arm. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sat nearby, sharing a bag of sweets that Goyle had apparently acquired from somewhere.

Blaise Zabini was stretched across the opposite sofa, looking thoroughly bored. Theodore Nott sat beside him with a book resting on one knee.

At the small table, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis were ostensibly completing their Charms homework, although neither had touched a quill in nearly twenty minutes.

Millicent Bulstrode sat on the rug, leaning against the sofa.

"Montague's gone completely mad with it," Blaise remarked.

Draco looked up. "With what?"

"The Squad. He's been stopping third-years in the corridors and asking where they're going."

"He's supposed to," Draco replied.

"At half past eight in the evening?"

"There's a curfew."

"Not at half past eight."

Pansy gave an impatient sigh. "Honestly, Blaise, you complain about everything."

"Only things worth complaining about."

Tracey smiled into her parchment.

Draco leaned forward. "Montague's doing exactly what Professor Umbridge expects of him. Someone has to keep order around here."

"Yes," said Daphne, without looking up. "Because Hogwarts was in absolute anarchy before Montague started interrogating twelve-year-olds."

Crabbe snorted.

Draco shot him a look. "What's funny?"

"Nothing."

"Then shut up."

Goyle passed Crabbe another sweet.

For a moment, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

"Well," Millicent said, "personally, I don't mind Umbridge giving us a bit more freedom. Filch practically bows whenever he sees one of you lot coming."

"That's because he knows we have authority," Pansy said proudly.

"Authority to do what, exactly?" Tracey asked.

"Take points. Report misconduct. Enforce school regulations."

"And annoy people," Blaise added.

"That's a bonus," said Draco.

This time even Daphne laughed.

Theodore turned a page.

"Oi, you’ve been awfully quiet this whole conversation. What's your problem with it, Nott?" Draco asked. “You've been sitting there looking miserable for an hour."

"I’ve been reading," said Theodore.

"Well, you could at least show some interest."

Theodore slowly closed his book. "All right, Draco. Would you like my opinion?"

"Go on."

"I think Umbridge is considerably more interested in controlling the school for the sake of control than actually improving it."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, not you as well."

"She hasn't taught us a single practical defensive spell all year," Theodore continued. "And we're sitting our O.W.L.s in two months."

"Professor Umbridge knows what she's doing," Draco insisted.

"Does she?"

"Of course she does!"

"Then perhaps she'll explain how we're supposed to defend ourselves against a curse by reading about it."

Blaise grinned. "Careful, Theo. That's almost a reasonable argument."

Draco's expression darkened. "You're all missing the point."

"And what's the point?" Daphne asked.

"That Dumbledore's been running this school however he likes for years, and now someone from the Ministry is finally doing something about it."

"Father says Dumbledore's losing his influence," Crabbe contributed.

"Mine says the same," Goyle added.

"Your fathers seem to agree on an awful lot," said Tracey, as she glanced toward Daphne.

Crabbe shrugged. "Because they're right."

"Naturally," Daphne murmured dryly.

Draco straightened in his chair.

"Anyway, the Ministry wouldn't have sent Umbridge here if there weren't serious problems. Potter's been spreading rubbish since June, and Dumbledore's encouraging him."

At the mention of Potter, Blaise gave an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, here we go."

"What?"

"Nothing, continue."

Draco ignored him. "Potter claims the Dark Lord's returned, and half the school acts as though he's some kind of prophet."

"Not half," Millicent said. "Mostly the Gryffindors."

"And half the Hufflepuffs," Pansy added. “And a few Ravenclaws here and there.”

"Well, they're idiots," Draco declared.

Theodore said nothing. Daphne noticed. "Do you think he's lying, Theo?"

Theodore looked at her. "Who, Potter?"

"Yes."

Theodore hesitated. "I think Potter genuinely believes what he's saying."

Draco laughed. "That doesn't make it true."

"No," Theodore agreed. "It doesn't."

"But you think it is?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

Theodore regarded him for a moment. "I'm saying Cedric Diggory went into that maze alive and came out dead. Potter came out with his body, claiming something happened that the Ministry doesn't want to discuss. And rather than investigate it properly, Fudge seems determined to convince everyone that Potter's gone mad."

Pansy folded her arms. "Perhaps Potter has always been mad."

"Perhaps," Theodore said.

"He's always been an attention-seeker," Draco added.

"That doesn't explain what happened to Diggory, though," Tracey replied quietly.

There was a short silence.

Millicent shifted against the sofa. "Could've been an accident."

"An accident that killed him?" Daphne asked.

"Well, something happened in that maze."

"Obviously something happened," Blaise said. "The question is what."

Draco looked irritated. "You're all acting as though Potter's the only person who knows anything."

"Then enlighten us," Blaise said.

"I don't have to."

"Convenient."

Pansy leaned closer to Draco. "Don't bother with him."

But Theodore was watching Draco with an expression Daphne couldn't quite interpret. "Your father must have an opinion," he said.

Draco hesitated. "My father knows considerably more about what's happening than Potter does."

"That wasn't what I was alluding to."

"Well, perhaps you should ask your own father."

Theodore's face changed almost imperceptibly. "I have."

The words hung in the air. Crabbe stopped chewing. Goyle looked between them.

Draco shifted in his seat. "And?"

Theodore reopened his book. "He doesn't discuss everything with me."

For several seconds nobody spoke.

Then Tracey broke the silence. "Well, whatever's happening outside Hogwarts, I don't see how making Montague patrol the corridors is going to solve it."

"Montague's a seventh-year," Millicent said. "He likes being important."

"He's always liked being important," Daphne replied. "Now he's got a badge to prove it."

Pansy frowned. "You're being awfully critical of the Squad for someone who benefits from it."

Daphne looked up. "Do I? Benefit?"

"Of course you do. We're Slytherins."

"And?"

"And we're finally getting treated properly."

Daphne exchanged a glance with Tracey, then turned her head back to Pansy. "Being treated properly is one thing, Pansy. Being allowed to do whatever we like simply because Umbridge dislikes Gryffindors is another."

Draco scoffed. "You almost sound like Granger."

Daphne's expression cooled. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then stop talking like her."

Tracey put down her quill. "She doesn't have to agree with everything you say, Draco."

"I wasn't talking to you, Davis."

"Well, you are now."

Blaise made a quiet, appreciative noise. "Wonderful. We're finally having an interesting evening."

"Shut it, Blaise," Draco snapped.

"Gladly."

Crabbe leaned toward Goyle. "Greg?"

"What?"

"Got any more of those?"

Goyle looked into the empty bag. "No, Vince."

"Brilliant."

Millicent groaned. "Can you two think about anything besides food?"

"Yeah," Crabbe replied.

"What?"

"Quidditch."

Blaise burst out laughing. Even Draco's mouth twitched, despite himself. For a moment, the tension lifted.

Then Theodore spoke again. "There's something else." Everyone looked at him. "If the Dark Lord really has returned, Umbridge's Defense lessons are going to be the least of our problems."

Draco's smile vanished.

Pansy stared at Theodore. "You shouldn't say things like that!"

"Why?"

"Because! You just shouldn't."

Theodore looked toward the dark window, where something enormous moved slowly beyond the glass. "That's not much of an answer."

Draco stood. "Well, in any case, I think Potter's a liar, Dumbledore's losing his mind, and Umbridge is the best thing that's happened to this school in years."

"Good for you," Blaise said.

Draco glared at him. "Come on, Crabbe. Goyle."

The two boys got up, Crabbe brushing crumbs from his robes.

Pansy rose as well. "Are you coming, Millicent?"

"In a minute."

Draco headed toward the boys' staircase, with Crabbe and Goyle following, but at the bottom step, he stopped. "And Nott?"

Theodore looked up. "What?"

"Perhaps you ought to be more careful about what you say."

Theodore met his gaze. "Perhaps you ought to be more careful about what you believe."

Draco said nothing. Then he turned and disappeared up the stairs. A moment later, Pansy departed for the girls' dormitory. The common room settled into silence.

Blaise stared at the ceiling. "Well. That was pleasant."

Millicent shook her head. "You really shouldn't wind him up like that, Theo."

"He asked."

"That's never stopped you before."

Daphne began gathering her parchment. Tracey leaned toward her. "Do you think Potter's telling the truth?"

Daphne hesitated. Across the room, Theodore was once again pretending to read.

"I don't know," Daphne admitted.

Tracey lowered her voice. "Neither do I."

Blaise sat up. "For what it's worth, I think Fudge is frightened of something."

"Fudge is always frightened of something," Millicent said.

"Precisely."

Theodore closed his book. "That's what worries me."

Beyond the windows, the black water pressed against the glass. None of them needed to say anything else. The atmosphere pretty much encapsulated what they were all thinking. If Voldemort has in fact returned, the wizarding world status quo wouldn't be able to protect anyone.