Chapter Text
Here is the next chapter! I apologize for the delay. As many of you may have seen on my Tumblr, my state has been in serious trouble due to hurricane season, and I have been focusing a lot on my Warhammer 40k fanfiction—I put in a tremendous amount of effort there. However, I don't want to neglect my other works, so I’m sharing the following schedule!
->The Overlord Geass
->One Piece: A Demon’s Treasure
->Warhammer 40k: The Ember of Creation
->Dragon Age: Demonic Age
->The White Lion of the Red Keep
So, this is it, see you all soon, and please enjoy this work.
I hope you enjoy this chapter, and don’t forget to check out my Tumblr!
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Chapter 45
Harriet watched herself again, as she had on many mornings before, in the mirror, observing her own reflection follow her every move. She was different now; her hair was not entirely black anymore, with patches of white appearing throughout. Her eyes were no longer fully green, now showing golden irises and other shades. Her vision had become impaired, and she relied on glasses, but oddly, she also found she could see more. It felt as if two versions of herself had been intertwined, forcing her to exist within this new reality, which left her with a sense of loss and confusion. Yet, this complicated dynamic felt like the paradox of her own identity.
Harriet shouldn't have been confused; she should have known who she was, right? She was Suzuki Satoru, Galadriel Melkor, and now Harriet Potter. Three names for one person—simple enough to understand. Still, she struggled to adjust to it all. It was baffling, strange, and disorienting. Why did she feel so disconnected from herself, as if those names represented different entities rather than just her? Harriet couldn't answer that honestly. She simply didn't know.
Memories that were once so clear now felt muddled, like echoes in her mind, as if they belonged to someone else. It wasn't right; that wasn't normal. They were her memories, her life. Why should she forget about it all? Or perhaps she wasn't forgetting. Maybe, in her mind, those memories served no purpose in a life she no longer needed. But at the same time, who decided that? Certainly not her.
Harriet took a deep breath as she washed her face, hoping the cold water would awaken her senses. The new year would start soon; she had to be ready, she had to be prepared. A lot had happened in the last few months. Harriet had trained and focused on her magic, including branches like Soul Magic. The books from Salazar Slytherin had provided her with valuable research material. There was much to understand, but she now had a better idea of what she was dealing with.
She had learned several spells—none outwardly dangerous, but all intriguing. One spell allowed her to see her soul's connections to others, functioning like a map. It made visible the links between her and the people she cared about, reflecting their loyalty and importance in her life. Harriet was surprised by this spell and pondered its necessity. After reading Salazar's notes, she learned that he used this spell to create runes and powerful defence spells that targeted those outside the links of his soul. Only those who were truly important to him—those he trusted and who his soul embraced—could enter certain places. It was a powerful spell if used correctly.
It was intriguing to see a person's soul. Typically, a normal person would only perceive a light, but thanks to her unique ability, she could see the essence of a person—a figure that was constantly changing and always moving. Harriet was still debating the importance of observing a person's soul. So far, she hadn't honestly perceived anything of significance, but she had used this ability on herself. The only thing she saw was a large, shifting figure that turned its back to her, seemingly ignoring her presence.
It was undeniably rude, but Harriet wondered if witnessing her own soul was different from observing someone else's. She would have to find out later.
"Also, I feel stronger—more spells, more ways to use my magic and Yggdrasil's magic," Harriet whispered, recalling those challenging weeks of training with her father and Sirius. They didn't make it easy for her or her friends; they ensured that everyone understood just how much they struggled with using magic. Harriet nodded at the memory of those lessons. It was beneficial to learn how to harness this type of magic and to explore how she could potentially blend it with Yggdrasil's magic. There was still much to learn, but she had an excellent group of teachers.
"They can use magic too... Yggdrasil's magic," Harriet murmured, remembering the time she saw Blaise cast a Yggdrasil spell. It was both shocking and surprising. That meant she could teach them more. Of course, Harriet believed she was a great teacher and thought of herself as nothing else. It never occurred to her that the reason Blaise and the others could use those spells might be due to other factors, such as not being fully human.
"Harriet! It's getting late!"
Harriet snapped back as she heard her mother's voice. "Coming!" She replied as she again focused on herself and smiled, or tried to smile at her own reflection.
Harriet picked up her belongings and made her way toward the living room, where her family gathered. Among them was Draco, a puzzling presence in her life for the past few months. He often struck her as distant and aloof, his demeanour thick with an air of superiority, as if he were deliberately trying to shut everyone out. He rarely voiced his disdain, Draco remembered the last time he spoke ill of Harriet's mother—his words had infuriated her so much that she had instinctively broken his nose in a fit of rage. Even now, his sneer lingered on his lips, hinting at a disdain that felt almost habitual.
Yet, beneath that cold exterior, there were moments when Draco revealed a surprising depth. In those fleeting instances, he reminded her of his mother, Narcissa; he displayed an uncommon kindness and an intense passion for protecting those he cared about. It was as if he wrestled with his emotions, unsure of how to express his genuine concern. Harriet observed him whenever he was with Narcissa—how he would hover close, attentively asking if she needed anything, whether it was a glass of water or assistance with something else. In those moments, his worry for her well-being and the impending arrival of his sibling shone through, revealing a love that was profound and deeply felt. For all his coldness, it was clear that Draco truly cared for his family, though he struggled to show it in a way that felt natural.
Harriet discovered that Draco possessed a surprisingly sharp sense of humour, one that shone through in his aloofness and playful sass. It seemed that, in Harriet's presence—and by extension, the company of her friends—Draco felt liberated from the facade he had long upheld. They did not consider him a threat, so why pretend to be one? No longer did he feel the need to embody the serious, cold persona of a master schemer, a role he thought he must play to reflect the cruel legacy of his father. Instead, he began to reveal a more relaxed side, one focused more on his impeccable hair, stylish attire, and the finer points of wizardly etiquette than on the cunning overtures typically expected of a Slytherin.
In Harriet's cosy home, Draco found a sense of comfort that starkly contrasted with the constraints of his own environment. The laughter that filled the rooms felt free and unguarded, allowing Draco to shed the burdens of his upbringing. It was a bittersweet realisation—he could genuinely be himself here, away from the pressure and expectations that shadowed him at home. The warmth of acceptance in Harriet's household was a poignant reminder of what he yearned for yet rarely experienced, adding a layer of sadness to his newfound freedom.
Harriet found herself drawn to this version of him; it was a bit odd, but she genuinely enjoyed his company.
"Well, here I am at last, my loyal followers," she said with a playful smirk, earning an eye roll from Draco and a soft chuckle from Narcissa.
Narcissa and Lily were radiant, their gentle curves beneath their flowing dresses hinting at the little lives they were nurturing. Harriet couldn't help but sigh, knowing that next time she saw them, they would be cradling her siblings. The thought filled her with excitement, as she imagined the little faces she would soon meet.
Despite her best efforts to stay composed, the weight of her concerns seemed to multiply by the day. With both Lily and Narcissa expecting their little ones, it was only a matter of time before they became targets for unwanted attention. Harriet was determined not to leave her friends vulnerable; that was one promise she intended to keep.
"Alright, you two! It's time for a serious shopping spree!" Lily exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she turned to Harriet, who raised an eyebrow in playful scepticism.
"Did Dad actually hand over the galleons? Or we are going on a heist to Gringotts?" Harriet probed, glancing between Lily and Narcissa, who exchanged mischievous glances that told her everything she needed to know.
"Oh, our dear fathers have issued blank checks for us—he told us to simply note it in the credit sheets," Lily replied with a wide grin, the thrill of adventure evident in her voice.
"Yes, your father is quite the responsible husband," Narcissa chimed in, her tone light and teasing, though they all knew that the plans concocted by Lily and Harriet sometimes veered into chaos.
"This is it, ladies—the day the Potter family goes completely broke!" they declared in unison, unable to contain their laughter, while Draco exchanged worried glances, apprehensive about what kind of mischief the girls were brewing.
Far away, James Potter felt a disturbance in his heart and pockets; he was sweating and couldn't help but whisper if he had done the right thing.
As the date of the Quidditch World Cup drew near, a wave of excitement swept through the magical community. News of the upcoming event became the talk of every conversation, igniting a fervour that was hard to ignore. However, Harriet found herself less than enthusiastic about the whole affair. While she possessed a competitive spirit, her heart wasn't truly in Quidditch; it often felt more like an obligation than a passion, something she participated in because others expected it of her.
Her father and godfather were positively buzzing with glee as they discussed the World Cup, their eyes sparkling with youthful enthusiasm, reminiscent of schoolboys eagerly awaiting their first broomstick. Harriet couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at their exuberance. Unlike her dear mother and aunt, Lily and Narcissa, who were comfortably nestled at home, using their pregnancies as valid excuses to avoid the raucous gathering, Harriet had no such dodge. They relished the idea of a serene afternoon, curled up on the couch, and Lily teaching Narcissa the beauties of movies and TV shows, while she felt the weight of inevitable duty press down on her.
No, she would not be left in peace to enjoy her quiet solitude. Instead, Harriet was swept up in the exhilarating energy of the moment as her friends hummed with mixed reactions in preparation for the grand event. The air crackled with anticipation, not to Harriet, but the people of the Wizarding World. Draco, typically aloof, wore a broad grin that illuminated his features. It became apparent that whether she wanted to or not, they would all be heading to the stunning stadium together, drawn in by the shimmering allure of the Quidditch World Cup that awaited them.
Her father had, of course, secured the absolute best seats for viewing the matches—a prime location that not only offered a spectacular view but also promised a full immersive experience of the electric atmosphere. As the esteemed Captain of the Aurors and celebrated as James Potter, such a privilege came as no surprise. When Harriet arrived at the expansive field, her eyes were met with a colourful tapestry of tents and a throng of enthusiastic fans milling about. With a heavy sigh, she felt irritation bubbling within her, overwhelmed by the cacophony around her.
James and Sirius appeared positively jubilant, their laughter ringing out above the thrumming crowd, blissfully ignoring the group of teenagers trailing behind them. Harriet, along with her friends, struggled to manage their bags and the plethora of items they had brought along, none of them sharing in the infectious excitement—well, perhaps Tracey, Nymphadora, and Draco, who were practically buzzing with enthusiasm for the matches they were about to witness.
"Amelia told me not to waste time watching the game and said my only task was to stand and observe," Sirius grumbled, his brow furrowed in mock seriousness.
"Well, she isn't here, is she?" James responded with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye, a cheeky smile spreading across his face as he leaned in closer. "Did you bring it?"
Sirius couldn't resist smirking and, in a surprisingly stealthy motion, revealed a small glass of Firewhisky concealed within his cloak.
James gasped dramatically before smirking widely. "You old dog!" he smiled. "You'd better not drink it all!"
With a dismissive snort, Sirius shot back, "Shut up, Prongs; I'll share." James couldn't help but smile at his friend's audacity, the thrill of the day beginning to win him over despite his initial reluctance.
Harriet and the others made their way towards their large tent, where they would meet the Weasleys. Arthur and Amos chuckled and waved at James and Sirius, who responded with loud laughter. Nearby, the twins, Fred and George, along with Ginny, Ron, and Cedric, were all waving at them as well.
"James, Sirius, it's great to see you two!" Amos Diggory said cheerfully.
"Amos, good to see you! I never thought your wife would let you out of the house," Sirius joked.
"Nonsense! I'm a man! And as a man, I can do whatever I want," Amos stated proudly, causing Cedric to cough awkwardly beside him.
"Dad, just a reminder, Mom told you not to be late and not to drink," Cedric whispered, while Sirius, James, and Arthur laughed loudly, prompting Amos to cough at his son. "Not in front of them, my boy!"
"Alright, everyone—want to see the tent?" Arthur asked. Soon, everyone followed him inside. The adults had their reasons for staying out, and Fred and George exchanged knowing smirks at their father.
"Dad, remember what Mom said!" the twins sang in unison. "No smuggling Firewhiskey!"
Arthur quickly hushed them as they entered the tent, which, despite appearing small from the outside, was spacious and luxurious on the inside. It featured high walls, windows, several beds, incredibly soft sofas, and a well-equipped kitchen.
Harriet sighed contentedly as she lay on her bed. "I'm hungry…" she murmured, prompting Susan and Hannah to check what they could find in the kitchen.
"Mmm, there isn't much to cook right now," Hannah replied.
"Use Dobby; he can help you," Harriet suggested just as the house-elf arrived, in a spark of light, looking cheerful.
"Did Miss Potter call for Dobby?!" Dobby exclaimed with excitement.
"Please listen to Hannah and Susan; they will tell you what they need," Harriet said before letting out a loud yawn. Fleur looked at her and tilted her head as she sat down next to her.
"Are you alright, Harriet?" Fleur asked.
"Nothing, I'm just tired for some reason… sleepy and all," Harriet whispered. She looked over at the sudden discussion taking place in the tent and was surprised to see Ron and Draco arguing.
"Krum may be good, but he can't beat Moran or Mullet! The Irish defence is too strong!" Draco argued, scoffing loudly.
"There's no one like Krum!" Ron declared fiercely. "He's like a bird, the way he rides the wind! I saw him fly against the French during the semi-finals! He was an angel! A star!"
"Seems like you're in love, Ron," Ginny teased.
"Truly, brother, it's one thing to be passionate about Quidditch," Fred chimed in.
"But it's another to praise Krum like that," George added.
"None of you understands! The Bulgarians will win; I know they will!" Ron insisted. "He is more than an athlete; he is an artist!"
"That sounds like love," Tracey muttered, as Nymphadora nodded with an amused expression.
"I doubt it. I'll bet fifty galleons that the Irish win," Draco said smugly, and Ron narrowed his eyes at him.
"Deal!" Ron replied, shaking hands with Draco.
"Uh, Ron, do you even have fifty galleons?" Ginny asked.
"Don't need to; Krum will win!" Ron stated confidently as the Weasleys rolled their eyes.
"Where is Luna?" Tracey whispered. Just then, Pansy walked into the tent, covered in green glitter, holding Luna as if she were a lost puppy.
"They covered me in green glitter!" Pansy screeched, and both she and Luna looked hilarious, dusted in the sparkly mess.
"Where are the others?" Fleur asked with a sigh, as laughter from outside the tent made it clear there was more chaos happening.
"Tina! You covered me in that green stuff!" someone yelled.
"Not my fault, Rolf!" came the reply.
"Nymphadora, I suggest you don’t point that thing in my direction..." Blaise warned.
"What is it, Blaise? Afraid of a little glitter?" Nymphadora teased.
"No," Blaise replied defiantly.
Harriet smiled at the madness unfolding inside the tent and outside. She sighed, loving these moments, but she also knew that peace rarely lasts long.
"Hey, kids! Let’s go, the match will start soon!" Sirius exclaimed, waving at them. They all began their long march to the stadium, where the final match of the Quidditch World Cup was about to take place.