a pheonix
Dumbledore straightened, his demeanor thoughtful. “You are both clearly talented, id say you are in.. about fifth and sixth year. Maybe higher but for now, however, I am satisfied that you are capable of keeping pace with our current students.”
He gestured back toward the castle. “I will arrange for your integration into classes. Miss Starling, you shall join Hufflepuff. Mr. Evans, you will, of course, be with Slytherin.”
Harry winced inwardly at the reminder of his placement but nodded. “Understood, sir.”
“Excellent. Welcome to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “I trust you will both make the most of your time here. And remember, if you ever need guidance, my door is always open.”
As they followed Dumbledore back toward the castle, Harry and Luna exchanged a look. They had passed the first test, but the real challenges were yet to come.
PRESENT
The library was quiet, saved from the soft rustle of pages and Hermione's own frantic scribbling. She had combed through countless books, searching for anything.. Anything that might explain what had happened to Harry. Her notes were scattered across the table in a chaotic sprawl, her onceneat handwriting growing more erratic with every failed lead.
But it wasn’t just the books. It wasn’t just the absence of Harry’s name on the Marauder’s Map. It was the way everyone else seemed to be forgetting him.
Ron barely mentioned Harry anymore, brushing off Hermione's concern as if Harry had never been their best friend.
Worse, others seemed confused when she brought him up. Ginny had stared at her blankly just the other day when Hermione mentioned Harry.
“Harry?” Ginny had repeated, her brow furrowing. “Who’s Harry?”
The question had hit Hermione like a curse. She had stammered out a reply, but Ginny had only shrugged and gone back to her conversation, leaving Hermione standing there, frozen.
Now, as she sat in the library, Hermione clutched the Marauder’s Map tightly, her knuckles white. She stared at the blank parchment, again saying the magic words.
“I solemnly swear i am up to no good.”
The map layed out showed everyone. Dumbledore, …Rita skeeter..? Ron, Ginny, everyone. But the enchanted surface remained stubbornly empty of Harry’s name.
She whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “This isn’t right. This can’t be right. He was here. He’s real. He’s real.” had she gone insane?
But the memories were starting to blur, even for her. She remembered their fights, their adventures, the way Harry’s determination had carried them through so many impossible odds. But the details were slipping through her fingers like sand.
The crackle of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. The way Harry’s laugh had been rare, but bright. The weight of the timeturner as he’d grabbed it from her hand, his face set with worry.
Hermione slammed her fists onto the table, drawing a sharp hiss from Madam Pince. “Keep your voice down,” the librarian snapped. Hermione ignored her, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Why is this happening?” she muttered, tears threatening to spill. “Why is everyone forgetting him? Why am I... why am I forgetting him?” The door to the library creaked open, and Hermione glanced up, wiping her tears on her sleeve. Half-hoping it would be Harry but of course, it wasn’t. It was Ron.
“There you are,” Ron said, his voice carrying a note of frustration. “I’ve been looking all over for you. You missed Charms.” Hermione didn’t reply, her gaze dropping back to her notes. Ron sighed and sat down across from her.
“Hermione,” he said carefully, “I know you’re... upset. About... whatever this is. But you’ve got to let it go. You’re not making sense. There’s no Harry Potter. There’s never been a Harry Potter.” Hermione froze, her quill hovering above the parchment. The words hit her like a blow. “How can you say that?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“Because it’s the truth,” Ron said, though there was an odd hollowness to his tone. “I don’t know why you’re so fixated on this... imaginary person, but it’s not healthy.”
“I’m not imagining him!” Hermione snapped, her voice rising. “I remember him. You should, too! You were his best friend!”
Ron flinched, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he stood up, his expression unreadable. “I think you need to rest, my best friend is you, Mione..” he said quietly. “And you’re not being yourself.” hermione looked away, tearing up more than she’d like to admit.
He left reluctantly without another word, leaving Hermione alone with her spiraling thoughts. She buried her face in her hands, her breath hitching.
“I’m not crazy,” she whispered to herself. “I’m Not Eu não sei se eu vou conseguir ir .”
the doubt was creeping in. The memories were slipping further out of reach, like a dream dissolving upon waking. She clung to the fragments, replaying them over and over in her mind, but they were fragile, brittle.
And then, a terrifying thought struck her: What if I’m the one who’s wrong? What if he really never existed? The idea made her stomach turn. No. She wouldn’t- couldn’t believe that. Harry was real. He had to be. If he hadn’t been, she wouldn’t be where she is now. With friends, with a life. Harry made her hermione. “He cant be gone.. He can’t be fake.”
But as the days passed, and the memories continued to fade, Hermione began to wonder how much longer she could hold on.
…
PAST
Luna and harry were walking around the outside of the school, relaxing in the wind.
“It was a phoenix this time.” harry said, quietly. More to himself than to anyone.
“Hm? Ah, yes my lord it was..” luna seemed alright with that. Content
“How do you feel about that?”
Harry wasn’t shocked at the question per say but, he just hadn’t thought about how he felt about it. He only thought about what it meant, and he was stumped. Can patronuses even change??
“I feel.. Okay with it. Its a good symbol right?”
“A very good symbol my lord.”
“Then its fine. Im okay with the change. I won’t not miss my stag but, its a change im ready for.”
The forest around them was alive with the whispers of leaves and the occasional chirp of nocturnal creatures. Harry and Luna sat near the edge of a clearing, the silvery glow of the moon filtering through the dense canopy. The light cast soft shadows on their faces, illuminating the reflective mood they both seemed to share.
Harry glanced at Luna, her calm presence grounding him in the moment. “Do patronuses usually change?” he asked, his voice uncertain.
Luna tilted her head, her gaze dreamy but focused. “They can, you know. When a person’s soul changes, their patronus can change, too. Sometimes it’s because of love or loss... or because they’ve found something new to fight for.” She smiled softly. “A phoenix is very fitting for you, Harry.”
He frowned, the weight of the thought pressing on him. “Why?”
“Because phoenixes are symbols of rebirth,” Luna said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They burn, they fall, but they always rise again. You’re like that, you know. You’ve been burned before, but you keep rising.” she smiled, holding his hand in hers, petting it like a kitten.
Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He stared at the wand in his hand, at the faint, lingering warmth from the spell that had just been cast. His stag had been a reflection of his father, a connection to the family he’d lost. The phoenix felt... different.
Not bad, just different.
“It’s strange,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I always thought the stag would be with me forever. It felt... solid. Like it was part of who I am. But now...” He gestured vaguely, trying to find the words. “It’s like I’ve lost something, but gained something else.”
Luna’s smile didn’t falter. “Maybe it’s not lost,” she said gently. “Maybe it’s just... resting.” she puts her hands up, and shakes her hands a bit to make sparkles, giggling a bit.
Harry chuckled softly despite himself. “Resting? That’s a comforting thought.”
“It’s true,” Luna said, her tone light but sure. “Sometimes, the things we think we’ve lost are just waiting for the right moment to come back to us.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the night pressing around them. Harry looked back toward the castle in the distance, its towering spires lit faintly against the horizon. Luna rocked her legs back and forth, staring up into the sky, her eyes deep in the stars.
“Do you think we’ll ever go back?” he asked suddenly, the question hanging in the cool night air.
Luna didn’t answer right away. She traced patterns in the dirt with a slender finger, her expression thoughtful. “Back to where we came from?” she asked at last. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t stop thinking about what we left behind. About Hermione, Ron... everyone.”
“They’ll remember you,” Luna said softly. “Even if it feels like they won’t.”
Harry wasn’t sure he believed her. The thought of being forgotten haunted him more than he wanted to admit. But Luna’s calmness, her unwavering belief, was a small comfort.
“What about you?” he asked, turning the question on her. “Don’t you miss our time?”
Luna looked at him, her pale blue eyes shining in the moonlight. “Sometimes. But the past and the present and the future... they’re all stories, Harry. We’re just in a different chapter now.”
Harry leaned back against her, letting her words settle over him. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was just another chapter. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that the ending was still far out of reach, and the path to it was more uncertain than ever.
“We were meant to be here, or else we wouldn’t be. I like that thought. The past chose us, so lets try to fix it and give back what it’s given us.” luna said, still stargazing.
“Well, what did it give us?” harry gained the same soft voice as hers, gently looked up to the sky, getting his eyes lost in the clouds.
“A bond. A restart. I haven’t seen any thestrals yet, but I know they are here. Our loved ones haven't died yet.”
“.. i guess you’re right.”