There was no ti to dwell on why Lucius and Harry were suddenly on good terms. The urgent matter at hand was capturing the dark wizard who had unleashed the Dark Mark.
"I’ll go take a look," Veratia declared, drawing her wand and Disapparating with a swift turn.
Sirius Black, who had intended to stop her, stood frozen in place.
Were kids these days this reckless? Disapparating to a place she’d never been? Did she invent that spell or sothing?
But then he reconsidered, shaking off his astonishnt. After all, Veratia was a legendary witch from a century ago.
To their surprise, however, Veratia returned to the group almost imdiately, empty-handed.
"Where are they?" Mr. Weasley asked anxiously.
"They got away," Veratia replied, her eyes flicking briefly toward Harry before she continued in a rapid tone. "They must have used a Portkey. I couldn’t track where they went."
"They’re bloody cunning, aren’t they?" Mr. Weasley muttered, frustration evident.
"Alright, let’s head ho," Sirius said, raising an eyebrow. He had so half-ford suspicions but kept them to himself for now.
The carriage soon arrived at the clearing, and they rode back to Grimmauld Place.
Despite the tense ordeal, the Weasley twins’ attention remained fixed on the Quidditch World Cup. For them, dark wizard attacks and Dark Marks paled in comparison to the thrill of the final match. Their excitent stemd largely from the absurd bet they’d placed—and the hefty winnings they’d secured.
"Mr. Bagman was absolutely beside himself," George said with a cheeky grin. "I’d wager even that—what do they call it?—that upcoming grand event won’t stop Bagman from raving about this spectacular World Cup final."
"Yeah, especially since he won big," Fred added, chuckling.
It was only then, in this mont of relative safety, that Mrs. Weasley overheard the twins’ conversation.
"Listen, you two!" she growled nacingly. "If I find out either of you—either of you—has been gambling, I’ll drown you both in the Black Lake! Do you hear ?"
The twins exchanged a glance and swallowed hard.
"Alright, alright, we’d never do that," they said in unison, their voices tinged with mock sincerity.
Ron briefly considered stoking the fire but caught sight of his mother’s expression—definitely not one to ss with. He decided to stay quiet. After all, his brothers’ lives were at stake, and he had no doubt that if their mother found out what they’d been up to, she’d twist their heads clean off.
Terrifying, Ron thought. Mum’s terrifying.
"Don’t worry, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, coming to his sons’ defense. "They’re not that sort. Besides, it’s getting late. We should all get so rest instead of wasting the night arguing. Don’t you think?"
"Absolutely, Dad’s right!" the twins chid in, eager to steer the conversation away from their misdeeds. The more they talked, the more likely they were to slip up in front of their mother.
Luckily, Percy wasn’t around to spill the beans—wait, where was Percy?
"Where’s Percy?" Fred asked aloud.
"Percy said he needed to speak with Mr. Crouch," Mr. Weasley replied, his tone tinged with irritation. Mr. Crouch this, Mr. Crouch that—one might think Crouch was Percy’s father.
"Forget him," Mr. Weasley said, waving a hand dismissively. "Your priority now is to get so sleep and rest up. Understood?"
"Yes, Dad," the children replied in unison.
Harry had assud Veratia would join him to rest, but she shook her head. "I’ve got sothing else to take care of today," she said.
"Be good," she added, planting a light kiss on Harry’s cheek. "There’s an urgent matter I need to handle."
"What is it?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.
Veratia hesitated, then decided to be honest with him. "I can tell you, but..." She paused, her eyes searching his. "Will you trust ?"
"Of course," Harry said without hesitation.
Veratia’s face lit up with a warm smile. She reached out and ruffled his hair. "I wasn’t completely empty-handed in the forest. You rember when soone cast the Dark Mark, right?"
"Of course," Harry said. "What did you find?"
"Well..." Veratia’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "There was that house-elf, Winky—"
"Winky?" Harry interrupted, recalling the escaped house-elf.
"Could a house-elf cast such dark magic?" he asked skeptically.
"No, it’s not really about her," Veratia said with a sly smile. "She’s the house-elf of the Crouch family—Barty Crouch, head of the Departnt of International Magical Cooperation."
"So what’s the connection to the Dark Mark?" Harry asked, puzzled. "You don’t an... Barty Crouch was behind it?"
"No," Veratia said, her smile widening. "I don’t know if old Barty Crouch is involved, but I saw a young man at the scene. Winky called him her ’young master.’ I think he might be connected to this. Any guesses who he could be?"
Harry’s mind raced. "You don’t an... Barty Crouch’s son? That would make sense, but... Mr. Crouch is staunchly anti-Voldemort. How could his son be a Death Eater?"
"People change, Harry," Veratia said, her tone still light but carrying a hint of intrigue. "Regardless, he’s tied to this sohow. But this could work in our favor. Think about it—a scandal like this? Do you think Crouch could stay on as head of his departnt?"
"No..." Harry said slowly, shaking his head.
"And don’t you think a hero like your godfather, who’s endured so much injustice, deserves a position like that to make up for all those years?" Veratia’s words were smooth, almost persuasive.
"Absolutely!" Harry nodded enthusiastically. "You’re right. Soone like Crouch doesn’t belong in that role anymore."
Harry wasn’t naive—he could sense the slight gaps in Veratia’s logic. But he didn’t mind. For one, it could an Sirius getting a position at the Ministry. For another, he’d noticed Crouch’s hostility toward Veratia, likely tied to her ancestor Gellert Grindelwald. And honestly, Harry didn’t much like Crouch either.
He wasn’t the saintly boy he’d once been. A century ago, under Septimus’s guidance, and knowing Crouch wasn’t exactly pure as snow, Harry felt the man could use a bit of a reckoning.
"Thank you," Veratia said, leaning down to kiss his cheek again.
"Thank you?" Harry asked, confused. "Shouldn’t I be thanking you for running around for Sirius?"
"He’s not just your godfather, Harry," Veratia said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "He’s mine too."
Harry’s emotional intelligence kicked in at that mont. "Well, if that’s the case..." he said with a grin, "Sirius is my wife’s godfather too. So, Veratia, will you be my girlfriend?"
Veratia froze. She’d waited over a century for those words.
Not through ti travel, but through a hundred years spent waiting in a portrait in the Room of Requirent. She’d imagined this mont countless tis—perhaps in a field of flowers, or so other romantic setting. Never had she pictured it in such an ordinary mont.
But... it wasn’t unacceptable. Life was often mundane, and their love—spanning a century, chasing Harry across ti—was already extraordinary enough. It didn’t need embellishnt.
After a long pause, Veratia’s face broke into a radiant smile that lit up the room.
"Of course," she said.
Harry reached out and took her hand. He decided to press forward, to be completely honest.
"Veratia," he said earnestly, "I’ve been torn—really torn. You, Cassandra, Poppy—you’ve all given up so much for , even your closest family. Cassandra lost her loving father and brother, Poppy lost her sister, and you..."
"Oh, Gellert didn’t love ," Veratia interrupted, her tone sharp with mock indignation. "Gellert only loved Dumbledore."
Her words were laced with a playful bite, but Harry lifted her hand to his cheek. "I want to be honest with you," he said. "Choosing between you three is impossible. No matter who I pick, I’d be letting down the others, and that’s not fair—not after everything you’ve all done."
"So you’re choosing and abandoning them?" Veratia asked, her smile teasing but her eyes glinting with sothing dangerous.
"No," Harry said firmly. "I want to take responsibility for all of you. I don’t want to let any of you down."
Veratia’s gaze flickered with a perilous spark. Even with that resolve, hearing Harry say this made her want to hex sothing—or soone—into oblivion.
As a transfer student at Hogwarts, she was fundantally different from Voldemort. He killed when he was unhappy; Veratia was unhappy if she didn’t kill.
"So you want us all to be your girlfriends?" Harry said, his voice steady but earnest. "I an, I could—"
Before he could finish, Harry crumpled to his knees, a searing pain coursing through him.
"Crucio!" Veratia’s eyes glowed crimson as she cast the Unforgivable Curse.
But just as Harry braced for agony, the spell vanished. The pain lasted only a mont before fading completely.
Veratia lowered her wand, letting out a heavy sigh. Even in her anger—anger that made her want to punish Harry—she couldn’t bring herself to truly harm him. The Cruciatus Curse required intent to torture, and she lacked the will to hurt him.
She reached out and took his hand again. "I’m sorry," she said, her voice tinged with a bitter smile. "I thought I could punish you, but... I can’t."
"Really?" Harry said, a roguish grin spreading across his face. "Can’t, or won’t?"
Veratia opened her mouth, then closed it. A bit of both, perhaps.
But she quickly rallied. "If a curse won’t do, I’ll find another way to punish you," she said, her tone dangerous, as if she might devour him whole.
"What way?" Harry asked, swallowing hard.
Veratia smirked, pulling him into a room. "By the way," she said, glancing back, "I’m not the second person you’ve said this to, am I?"
"No, no!" Harry shook his head quickly. "Definitely not."
"The third, then?" Her eyes flashed with a terrifying intensity.
"The first!" Harry said, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I haven’t told Cassandra yet. Of course I’d tell you first—you’re the most understanding, the one who loves most."
"Really?" Veratia’s lips curved into a smug smile. "Even more than Lily?"
"No!" Harry said firmly. "You can’t beat my mum!"
Veratia’s smugness faltered. Ugh, so annoying! But losing to her future mother-in-law—and best friend—didn’t sting too badly.
"What about Cassandra?" she asked, crossing her arms. "I seem to recall her giving you her old robes in first year. So sweet..."
"She doesn’t compare to you," Harry said, his charm in full force. "Right now, you’re the one who loves most in the world."
Sirius, sowhere in the background: So love just disappears, huh, Harry?
Veratia nodded, a knowing glint in her eye. She pushed Harry onto the bed with a wicked grin. "Well then," she said, "let’s finish what we started..."
"But what about Crouch?" Harry asked tentatively. "Didn’t you have sothing to deal with?"
"That can wait," Veratia said, climbing onto the bed and straddling him. "Right now, I have sothing far more important to take care of. And I’m not letting Cassandra or Poppy get there first. Just keep your eyes open and watch how your big sister punishes you, you little troublemaker."
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