HARRY POTTER AND THE GUARDIAN'S ASCENSION

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
F/M
G
HARRY POTTER AND THE GUARDIAN'S ASCENSION
Summary
The battle may have been won for now, but the war against darkness continued to loom large. As Ares, heir to the noble lineage of his family, I knew that my journey had only just begun—a journey fraught with peril and possibility, where each step would be a testament to the courage and resilience forged in the fires of adversity.
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ECHOES OF THE SORTING HAT

CHAPTER 28: ECHOES OF THE SORTING HAT

As the last days of summer dwindled, it was finally time to return to Hogwarts for my second year. The excitement was palpable; I could hardly wait to immerse myself in magical studies and reunite with my friends. Aunt Amelia, ever the doting guardian, had arranged for a Ministry car once again. It was sleek, enchanted to glide effortlessly through Muggle streets, ensuring a smooth and comfortable journey.

"Do you have everything, Ares?" Aunt Amelia asked for the third time, her stern yet affectionate gaze scanning my trunk.

"Yes, Aunt Amelia. Everything's packed—robes, books, potions kit. Even Tilly checked twice," I replied with a grin, patting the top of my trunk.

Meanwhile, Susan was clinging to me like a little barnacle, trying to squeeze in every possible hug before I left. "You'll write to me every week, right?" she asked, her wide brown eyes pleading.

"Every week without fail," I promised, ruffling her hair. "And don't forget to study hard. I expect glowing reports from your tutors."

"I will," she said with a determined nod, though her pout suggested she wasn’t entirely pleased about me leaving. I couldn’t help but smile—my little sister really was the best.

When we arrived at King’s Cross Station, the hustle and bustle of families was in full swing. The magical gateway to platform 9 ¾ beckoned, and we passed through the barrier without a hitch. Steam billowed from the scarlet Hogwarts Express, filling the air with a sense of adventure.

After exchanging warm hugs and goodbyes with Aunt Amelia and Susan, I hoisted my trunk onto the train. "Take care of yourself, Ares!" Aunt Amelia called.

"I will!" I shouted back, waving until the crowd swallowed them up.

With plenty of time to spare, I strolled down the corridor to find an empty compartment. Settling in, I opened one of my new books on advanced potion theory, waiting for my friends to show up.

The sound of a familiar voice broke my concentration. "Hey, man, how was your summer?"

I looked up to see Christian, his usual laid-back grin spread across his face. His black hair was as wild as ever, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Pretty good," I said, shutting the book and standing to greet him. "Had plenty of time to whip up a few interesting potions and experiment with some spells. What about you?"

"Haha, sounds like a summer for our Silver Star all right," he teased, throwing himself into the seat opposite me.

"And what about our famous baby Hagrid?" I shot back, smirking. It was an affectionate nickname he’d earned for his obsession with magical creatures and his uncanny knack for taming even the most unruly ones.

Christian laughed, leaning back with a broad smile. "I’ll have you know it was amazing. My family took a trip to a Welsh Green sanctuary. Dragons, mate. It was wicked!"

"Dragons?" I asked, my eyes widening with envy. "I’d give anything to see some dragons in the wild."

Before Christian could reply, the compartment door slid open, and a familiar voice interrupted. "Finally found you two."

Christian and I turned in unison and grinned. "Wonder Boy!" we exclaimed, laughing as James stepped in.

"Oh, when are you two going to drop that nickname?" James groaned, though the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

"Not until we both lose ours," Christian replied confidently, earning a laugh from me.

"Fair enough," James said, plopping down beside Christian. "So, how was your summer, Ares?"

"It was great," I replied. "Besides perfecting some potions, I spent a lot of time with Susan. Oh, and thanks for helping out when you stayed over. Aunt Amelia won’t stop talking about how polite and helpful you are."

James waved a hand dismissively. "Your aunt is too kind. Honestly, I love spending time at your place. It’s so much more relaxed than my house." He paused, a fond smile crossing his face. "Still, my parents decided to take us to Paris this year—Muggle and magical sights alike. It was brilliant, even if we couldn’t find the magical side of the city."

"Paris, huh? Fancy," Christian teased, nudging James with his elbow.

"Yeah, yeah," James said, rolling his eyes. "And Ares, I owe you a proper thank-you. Staying at your house was the highlight of my summer."

"I already told you—it’s no big deal," I said, shaking my head with a smile. "Besides, you were a huge help with Susan. She’s still talking about all the games you played with her."

The three of us laughed, the easy camaraderie of old friends filling the compartment as the train began to move. Outside, the cityscape gave way to the rolling hills and vibrant countryside, the comforting hum of the Hogwarts Express signaling our journey back to the magical world we called home.

"I’m glad we’re finally on our way," James said, leaning back against his seat. "Feels like summer flew by in a blink."

"Yeah, but you don’t look too upset about it," Christian teased, nudging him. "Probably sick of your family dragging you around the City of Light."

"Alright, I get it!" James replied, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. "It wasn’t so bad, though. Paris was actually pretty cool."

Then James seemed to remember something. His brows furrowed briefly before he rummaged through his bag, pulling out a thin, leather-bound book. He held it up for us to see.

"You guys heard about this book being handed out at Gringotts?" he asked, placing it on the table between us.

I leaned forward for a closer look. The cover bore a simple title: A Guide to the Wizarding World for Muggle-Borns. A faint smile tugged at my lips.

"Yeah," I said casually, picking it up and flipping through the pages. "It’s supposed to be a guide for Muggle-borns and their families, right? Heard it’s been pretty helpful."

Christian nodded as I passed the book to him. "Apparently, it’s got a ton of accurate, up-to-date information. The goblins at Gringotts are even endorsing it, which says a lot."

He flipped through a few pages before handing it back to James. "What really caught my attention, though, was that the author released another book at the same time. The one about werewolves."

"Oh, that one," I said, leaning back against my seat. "Yeah, it’s been causing quite a stir. A lot of people aren’t happy about it, but it’s been getting support from folks affected by lycanthropy and their families."

James raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely intrigued. "Really? What’s all the fuss about?"

"Well," I began, "for one, the book calls out the Ministry’s lack of support for werewolves. It’s also pretty critical of certain wizarding families for how they’ve treated them over the years."

Christian jumped in, gesturing animatedly. "It’s not just criticism—it’s facts. The author used historical documents and events to back everything up. He didn’t hold back, and that’s what’s got people riled up."

James whistled low, clearly impressed. "Sounds like the guy’s got guts."

"More like he’s got a target on his back," Christian said grimly. "There’s already talk of certain families trying to track him down. The Ministry’s not thrilled, either, but they can’t really do much. Everything in the book is rock-solid."

James looked back at the book in his hands, a mixture of curiosity and unease crossing his face. "Who even is this guy? He’s got to be either really brave or completely mad to write something like that."

I chuckled softly, folding my arms. "Maybe a bit of both. Either way, he’s done something remarkable—got people talking about things they’d rather ignore."

"True," James admitted, tapping the book’s cover thoughtfully. "I think I’ll give this a proper read. Seems like it’s worth the time."

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics—Quidditch, classes, and what to expect this year—I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride. Balancing my studies with my... extracurricular activities wasn’t easy, but hearing their genuine reactions made it all worth it.

"Yeah," I added with a chuckle, "my aunt mentioned that some of the wealthier families tried to push for those books to be banned. Their excuse was that they were 'disrupting law and order.' Typical, really."

Christian snorted. "Classic. They can’t outright argue against facts, so they try to bury them instead."

"It’s impressive, though," James mused, leaning back in his seat. "This one guy managed to shake things up so much just by publishing two books. That’s gutsy."

"It really is," I said, a knowing smile tugging at my lips.

We chatted until the train began to slow, the familiar sights of Hogsmeade Station coming into view. Excitement buzzed through the air as students began pulling on their robes and gathering their belongings.

As second-years now, we didn’t need to head to the boats with the first-years. Instead, we walked to the waiting carriages, the Thestrals standing silently in their eerie beauty. Their skeletal frames and leathery wings made them look like creatures straight out of a gothic fairy tale, and I couldn’t help but marvel at them again.

"Still think they’re creepy?" I asked Christian, who had seen them for the first time last year.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "They’re kinda cool, actually. Like something the grim reaper would ride."

"Exactly," I agreed with a grin.

As we climbed into the carriage, one of my favorite seniors, Daphne Greengrass, joined us.

"Mind if I hop in?" she asked, her usual composed demeanor softened by a friendly smile.

"Not at all, Pinky Puff," I teased, earning an exaggerated groan from her.

"I’m never going to live that nickname down, am I?" she muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched.

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"Not a chance," I replied cheerfully.

The ride to the castle was filled with easy banter. Daphne even admitted that she might need some help this year with her O.W.L. preparations, especially since she was aiming to become an Auror.

"I mean, I’m confident," she said, twirling a strand of her hair, "but let’s face it—O.W.L.s are brutal. And I need top grades if I want to make it into the Auror program."

"Don’t worry, Daph," I said with a smirk. "I’ve got your back. Helping my friends is kind of my thing."

"Thanks," she said, her tone genuinely appreciative. "I owe you one. Just don’t call me that nickname in public."

"No promises," I replied with a grin, making Christian and James laugh.

We arrived at the castle in high spirits and headed straight for the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat’s song was, as expected, a completely new rendition, weaving in a few warnings about unity and bravery in the face of challenges—a theme that seemed more poignant than ever.

The sorting began, and while most of it passed in a blur, a few names stood out. Gryffindor gained a pair of lively twins, undoubtedly future troublemakers. Hufflepuff welcomed a boy named Edward Cullen, whose pale complexion and glittering enthusiasm for everything earned a few chuckles at our table. Gryffindor also welcomed Angelina Johnson, while our house gained Roger Davies. I recognized him from Quidditch, but all I could remember about him beyond that was his less-than-stellar performance as Fleur Delacour’s date at the Yule Ball in the future.

Once the feast ended, the traditional, somewhat cringe-worthy Hogwarts song was sung with gusto—especially by the Weasley twins, who added dramatic harmonies that had even the professors trying not to laugh.

It was finally time to head to our dormitories. As we climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower, Christian elbowed me.

"Bet you’re looking forward to showing off your room again, huh, Mr. Top Student?"

I grinned. "Hey, the system’s fair. Better grades, better perks. What can I say? Hard work pays off."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "Still jealous, though."

This year, I had clear goals in mind. My focus would be on electives: Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. Muggle Studies? Not a chance. That curriculum was laughably outdated. The textbook claimed the horseless carriage was the last great invention, completely ignoring the technological revolution that had transformed the Muggle world. Sometimes, I felt tempted to introduce the wizarding world to nuclear physics just to shake things up.

Instead, I planned to deepen my knowledge of healing. With my advanced grasp of Charms, Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration—thanks to my stored memories of the St. Mungo’s matron—I was well-equipped to excel. I also intended to dive into Warding, a subject crucial to my future plans.

As I unpacked my things in my upgraded dormitory, a surge of determination welled up within me. This year was going to be incredible, no doubt about it.

My Arithmancy was already a major strength—monstrous, really. It’s the foundation of why I could modify and play with spells the way I do, transforming them into equations and tweaking their variables to produce entirely new effects. As for Runes, well, let’s just say I was the guy who recreated bottomless pouches using only Runes before I even got my wand. These two disciplines had become second nature to me, and I planned to push them even further this year.

My studies in Care of Magical Creatures (CoMC) and Divination were at different stages. While Divination was almost purely theoretical for me—without any seer bloodline, it wasn’t a practical pursuit—I decided to drop the class and keep my study informal.

Magical creatures, however, were a different story. To learn more, I decided to seek out Hagrid. The man dreams of teaching the subject, and his enthusiasm for creatures—particularly the dangerous ones—was infectious. While I found his unwavering loyalty to Dumbledore a bit overbearing, I couldn’t deny his passion for magical creatures. It wasn’t hard to see why; Dumbledore had given him a home, a job, and a sense of belonging when he’d been kicked out of school and left parentless. Despite our differences in opinion about the headmaster, Hagrid and I bonded over our shared interest.

Christian eagerly joined us in our conversations about magical creatures, but James felt a bit out of place. His fear of some creatures outweighed his curiosity, though he stuck around often enough to pick up a thing or two. By the end of the year, I’d earned myself a solid friendship with Hagrid and a newfound appreciation for his dedication to the subject.

For my healer studies, I decided to approach Madam Pomfrey about gaining hands-on experience in the infirmary. Convincing her wasn’t easy—it took a letter from Professor Flitwick, who was delighted to see me channeling my talents into the noble art of healing. She also required me to pass a rigorous test to prove my competence, and, to my surprise, even Dumbledore stepped in to vouch for me. I suspect he sees healing as a path that reinforces the mindset needed to stay on the light side of magic. While his involvement left me with mixed feelings, I wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity.

My weekends were soon filled with volunteer shifts in the infirmary, where I gained invaluable experience. During Quidditch matches, I was often called on to assist due to the near-constant injuries, which made every game an all-hands-on-deck situation. It was exhausting but rewarding, and it gave me a deeper understanding of healing magic than I ever could have achieved through books alone.

Outside my academic pursuits, I made an unexpected connection with the Weasley twins. Tonks and I had been planning to prank a group of bullies in my house who were targeting some Hufflepuff students, only to discover that Fred and George had the same idea. The resulting collaboration was chaotic brilliance, leaving the bullies with a bad day and the professors with an ominous sense of dread at the emergence of an “unholy team-up.” The twins loved me for it, especially after I taught them a few spells and potion recipes to enhance their pranks.

On a more puzzling note, Victoria seemed different this year. She no longer competed with me like she did last year, and her academic performance had noticeably dropped. She’d also stopped hanging out with her usual group of friends. It was odd, and while I couldn’t pinpoint any blatant problem, her sudden change concerned me. Still, without a clear reason to intervene, I decided to keep an eye on her from a distance.

As the months passed, my second year at Hogwarts flew by. My elective subjects, healing, and wards progressed superbly, and I was on track to reach N.E.W.T. levels in most of them. By year’s end, my grades were, once again, a source of envy and frustration for my peers—but that was just the price of excellence.

With my goals on track and my friendships growing stronger, I knew I was setting the foundation for an even brighter future.

And so, summer arrived once again, bringing with it the next stage of my preparations for the war I knew was inevitable. Five years until his return—five years to ready myself for the storm that would follow.

The timeline was both a gift and a curse. On one hand, it gave me an edge—time to learn, to grow, to strategize. On the other, the weight of what was coming never left me. The knowledge that lives would be at stake, that choices I made now could ripple through the years ahead, drove me forward.

This summer, my plans were ambitious but necessary. I would expand my mastery over wards and defensive magic, sharpen my mind with Arithmancy and Runes, and continue to develop my healing abilities. Every skill would count when the time came.

The world might not yet know what was brewing in the shadows, but I did—and I wasn’t about to waste the time I had. Let them see only a student, excelling in classes and making friends. Beneath the surface, I was building something far greater.

Five years until he returns. Let’s see just how much I can accomplish.

 

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