Chapter 11
Sirius and Remus were just about done with Diagon Alley. Their next stop? Hogwarts, for a mysterious meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Typical. Say goodbye to Harry and the others, Disapparate to the castle, no big deal, right?
"Ready for this?" Remus asked, glancing at Sirius like they were about to walk into a pub quiz, not whatever this was.
Sirius gave a firm nod. "Yeah, let's get this over with."
They synchronized their turns and—whoosh!—that weird, uncomfortable squeezing sensation hit as they Disapparated. A split second later, they were standing in front of Hogwarts’ massive gates. The castle loomed in the distance, all glowing and serene in the moonlight, like some sort of medieval postcard.
Before they even had a chance to knock, the gates swung open with a long, dramatic creak (because of course they did). And standing there was none other than Hagrid, looking like he’d just wrestled a bear.
"Well, if it isn’t Sirius and Remus!" Hagrid boomed, grinning so wide you could probably see it from the Astronomy Tower.
Sirius stepped forward, shaking Hagrid’s hand—or rather, letting Hagrid crush his. "Good to see you, Hagrid."
"Aye, good ter see yeh too," Hagrid said, practically bouncing on his feet. "C’mon, Professor Dumbledore’s waitin’. Let’s get yeh both up ter the castle."
They fell into step behind Hagrid, who was basically a one-man conversation machine. As they walked, the lanterns lining the path flickered just right, casting long, eerie shadows that made the whole thing feel like a prelude to a Scooby-Doo mystery.
"Busy summer, it’s been," Hagrid rambled. "Gettin' ready fer the new term, yeh know. Lots ter do. But nothin' we can’t handle."
"Good to be back," Remus said, taking in the familiar sights like he hadn’t spent the better part of his life here. "Even if it’s just for a visit."
Hagrid nodded, looking nostalgic. "Aye, Hogwarts is always home, innit?"
But as they neared the castle’s main entrance, the usual jolly chatter faded. Hagrid’s heavy footsteps echoed through the silence, and for a moment, everything felt... tense.
Hagrid cleared his throat awkwardly, his voice suddenly quieter. "Sirius, Remus... there's somethin’ I’ve been meanin' ter say fer a while now. About that night... yeh know, the night James and Lily..."
Sirius stiffened, shooting a glance at Hagrid. "What about it, Hagrid?"
Hagrid stopped in his tracks and turned to face them. His shoulders slumped like the weight of the world was pressing down on them. "When Dumbledore told me ter take Harry... from yeh, Sirius... I didn’t understand. Yeh looked so broken. But Dumbledore was firm—said it was fer Harry’s safety. I’ve been meanin’ ter tell yeh how sorry I am, Sirius."
Sirius blinked, clearly caught off guard. He paused, then smiled sadly. "Hagrid, you were following orders. You did what you thought was best for Harry. I get it now. I really do."
Remus clapped a hand on Hagrid’s massive arm. "You did your job, Hagrid. None of us knew how it would all turn out."
Hagrid’s bushy eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a shaky sigh. "Aye, but it haunts me. If I hadn’t taken Harry, he wouldn’t have ended up with those miserable Dursleys. And maybe... maybe yeh wouldn’t have gone after that traitor Pettigrew, Sirius. Maybe yeh wouldn’t have ended up in Azkaban."
Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes softening. "We all made choices that night, Hagrid. It was a mess. None of us could’ve known. Don’t beat yourself up over it."
Remus nodded in agreement. "And we’ve all paid for those choices in different ways. But it’s no use dwelling on it now. What matters is what we do next."
Hagrid sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his giant hand. "I know, I know. Just... it gets me sometimes. Harry deserved better than what he got, and I wish I could’ve done more."
Sirius stepped forward, his voice low but reassuring. "We all do, Hagrid. But Harry’s tough. He’s been through worse than most people, and now he’s got us. We’ll make sure he never has to face anything like that again."
Hagrid gave a watery smile. "Thanks, lads. That means a lot."
With that little heart-to-heart out of the way, they continued on toward Dumbledore’s office. The air felt a bit lighter now, like they’d just shaken off a load of baggage. As they ascended the spiral staircase and approached the headmaster’s door, Sirius and Remus exchanged a look—ready to face whatever craziness Dumbledore had in store for them this time. Because, let's be honest, with Dumbledore? It was always something.
—
As Sirius and Remus stepped into the headmaster’s office, they were greeted by Professor McGonagall, standing stiffly beside Dumbledore, her lips pressed into the thinnest of lines. Around them, the room glowed in that same old soft, candlelit way, though none of its warmth could quite reach Sirius’s boiling frustration.
"Ah, Sirius, Remus. Welcome," Dumbledore said, with his usual twinkling-eyed smile, as if this were just another chat about whether Fawkes had shed any feathers lately. "Your journey, I trust, was uneventful?"
"Peachy," Sirius muttered, already eyeing McGonagall, who gave him one of her patented, no-nonsense nods.
"Good to see you, Professor," he added, his voice carrying just a hint of sarcasm. McGonagall, sharp as ever, caught it but didn’t rise to the bait.
"We’ve much to discuss," she replied, her tone brisk. Nothing got past McGonagall, not even Sirius’s simmering temper.
Dumbledore gestured to the two seats in front of his desk, as if this were just an everyday meeting. "Please, sit. This won’t take long."
Sirius and Remus sat, though Sirius did so like someone ready to leap back to his feet the moment he got too annoyed. Which, knowing him, wouldn’t take long.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Dumbledore began, folding his hands on the desk. The classic Dumbledore pose. "There is a matter of great importance we need to address concerning Harry."
And there it was—the very reason Sirius had been pacing all night. His face tightened. "This is about you sending Harry to the Dursleys, isn’t it?"
Dumbledore let out the kind of sigh that suggested the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders—again. "Yes, Sirius. I owe you an explanation. When Voldemort fell, James and Lily…" His voice grew softer, more measured. "My first priority was Harry's safety. The protective enchantments placed by Lily’s sacrifice required him to live with her blood relatives, no matter how… difficult they were."
Remus, ever the diplomat, nodded thoughtfully. "We understand the need for protection, Albus. But surely there could have been another way? The Dursleys were—" He paused, probably searching for the nicest way to say “absolutely horrible.”
McGonagall jumped in, her expression set like steel. "I had reservations myself. I… voiced my concerns."
Sirius snorted. "Reservations? You mean you actually let him get away with that?"
Dumbledore, ever calm, his gaze fixed in that distant “I know more than you” way of his, nodded. "I knew of the Dursleys' nature, but I believed the blood wards were paramount." He glanced at them over his glasses. "In hindsight, I see the toll it took on Harry. And for that, I am truly sorry."
And that was when Sirius lost it. "Sorry?" He barked a laugh, not the nice kind. "You can’t just wave your hand and say ‘Oops, my bad,’ Albus! You’re so used to being right, to everyone just nodding along with your grand plans, that you’ve forgotten you’re not some—some god! You sit here, in this office, playing chess with people’s lives!"
Remus tried to put a calming hand on Sirius’s arm, but Sirius wasn’t having it. He shook it off, eyes blazing. "You failed Harry! And now, you summon us here like we’re supposed to… what? Applaud your brilliant plan, now that it’s all come out?"
Dumbledore, to his credit, didn’t flinch, though there was a definite flicker of remorse. "Sirius, I understand your anger, but—"
"But nothing!" Sirius slammed his fist on the armrest, causing McGonagall to purse her lips even tighter (which, at this point, seemed physically impossible). "Harry deserved better than being treated like a… like a house-elf by the Dursleys. You let that happen. We all let it happen, but you—" His voice dropped dangerously low. "You knew better."
McGonagall stepped in, her voice cutting through the tension like a sword. "We cannot change the past, Sirius. But we can make sure Harry’s future is brighter. And that’s what we need to focus on."
Sirius’s shoulders remained stiff, his anger still palpable. "Fine. But don’t expect me to forgive and forget just because you had good intentions, Albus."
Dumbledore, for the first time, looked genuinely old, like he was starting to feel the weight of years of decisions that, well, maybe weren’t as perfect as he liked to think. "I do not ask for your forgiveness, Sirius. Only for the opportunity to make amends."
There was a pause. Then Sirius, as if the last few moments hadn’t happened, switched gears. "You can start by giving Harry back his father’s Invisibility Cloak."
Dumbledore blinked. Ah. Caught him off guard with that one.
"It’s a Potter Family Heirloom," Sirius continued, folding his arms. "Which means it belongs to Harry."
McGonagall looked completely blindsided. "A Potter Family Heirloom? Albus, I had no idea—"
Hagrid, who’d been hanging around quietly in the background, chimed in with a confused, "Blimey, Professor, ye've been holdin’ onto a family heirloom all this time?"
Dumbledore, composed as ever, gave a small nod. "I kept the cloak for safekeeping. It was never my intention to keep it from Harry."
Sirius narrowed his eyes, barely containing his fury. "Safekeeping? Try theft, Albus. Harry deserves everything that’s rightfully his."
Dumbledore, looking far too calm for Sirius’s liking, rose from his desk. "You're right, Sirius. I apologize. I will retrieve the cloak immediately."
Sirius watched him like a hawk as Dumbledore crossed the room to a cabinet, retrieving the famed Invisibility Cloak. The cloak looked just as Sirius remembered—gleaming, mysterious, and now apparently wrapped up in a lot of unsaid stuff.
Dumbledore handed it over with what looked like a very solemn expression, but before anyone could breathe easy, Sirius whipped out his wand and began casting charms over the cloak. Remus, knowing Sirius’s habits well, just sighed.
It didn’t take long before Sirius’s face contorted in disbelief. "Tracking charms? Seriously?"
McGonagall gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Albus, why would you—"
"For Harry’s protection," Dumbledore cut in, ever the same, wise, grand Dumbledore. "The cloak is an extraordinary artifact. I felt it prudent to ensure his safety—"
"Without telling him?" Sirius spat, his anger red-hot again.
Remus, this time, wasn’t calming anyone down. "This cloak belongs to Harry. If you truly believe in protecting him, then transparency is where it starts, Albus."
Dumbledore blinked, for once, seeming like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have all the answers. "I acted in Harry’s best interest," he said quietly, but there was something different in his tone now—like he’d finally caught up to the fact that, sometimes, his ‘best interests’ weren’t the same as what was right.
Sirius shook his head. "No more secrets, Albus. Harry’s been through enough."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with something that looked suspiciously like real remorse. "You have my word."
And with that, the tension finally began to lift. Small steps. But steps nonetheless.
—
As Sirius and Remus approached the entrance to the Great Hall, the familiar click of Minerva McGonagall's boots echoed through the corridor. They didn’t need to turn around to know they were about to be intercepted. Sirius sighed, casting a glance at Remus.
"Think we’re getting detention?" he muttered.
Remus shot him a sideways smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Before they could elaborate on their predictions, McGonagall’s sharp voice cut through their banter like a well-aimed Stunning Spell. "Sirius, Remus!"
They spun around to find Professor McGonagall striding toward them, robes billowing in a way that suggested serious business—or maybe just a gust of wind. Honestly, with McGonagall, it could be either.
"Minerva, is something wrong?" Remus asked, ever the diplomat. Meanwhile, Sirius just stuffed his hands in his pockets, preparing for whatever was coming with his usual mix of boredom and defiance.
McGonagall slowed, her normally stern expression softened, which was more unnerving than the usual stern McGonagall. "I couldn’t let you go without saying something,” she said, clearly wrestling with the words. “I’ve been thinking... and I believe I owe you both an apology.”
Sirius blinked. An apology? From McGonagall? That wasn’t something you heard every day. Heck, that wasn’t something you heard any day. This was the woman who could reduce first years to tears just by arching an eyebrow.
Remus, being Remus, handled it with grace. “What do you mean, Minerva?” he asked gently, as though speaking too loudly would break the moment.
“I should’ve questioned Dumbledore more,” McGonagall said, folding her arms, a rare look of regret crossing her face. “Harry’s placement with the Dursleys... I didn’t like it, but I trusted Albus. And I should’ve known better about you, Sirius. You would never have betrayed James and Lily.”
The silence that followed was heavy, the kind that made you wish for one of Fred and George’s dungbombs to break the tension. Sirius shifted awkwardly, his default setting when emotional confessions were happening. “Uh, thanks?” he offered, unsure what else to say. Apologies from McGonagall weren’t exactly on his ‘Things to Expect Today’ list.
But he quickly recovered, his usual bravado slipping back into place. “Look, Minerva, we can’t go back and change the past,” he said, attempting his best ‘mature adult’ tone, which he reserved for rare occasions—usually when Remus was giving him the look. “We can only fix things moving forward.”
McGonagall nodded, straightening her back. "Indeed. And moving forward, we must make sure Harry’s well-being is at the center of everything we do. No more secrets. No more... ‘for the greater good’ nonsense."
Sirius smirked. “You mean, no more pretending we’re all chess pieces in Dumbledore’s big ol’ game?”
Remus, ever the peacekeeper, placed a hand on McGonagall’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. "We'll make sure Harry gets what he needs," he said firmly. "We’re all on the same side here."
McGonagall’s lips twitched, like she might actually smile but remembered at the last second that she was McGonagall, and smiling wasn’t really in her wheelhouse. "Very well, then," she said, with a final nod that spoke volumes more than words.
As they watched her walk away, Sirius turned to Remus, one eyebrow raised. "Did we just get a pep talk from Professor McGonagall?"
Remus chuckled. "Strange times, my friend. Strange times."
Sirius grinned, clapping Remus on the back. "Well, at least we didn’t get detention."
—
As Sirius and Remus made their grand exit, full of heroic promises and self-important strides, Severus Snape lingered in the shadows, because of course he did. It was practically his brand. And as he stood there, watching them go, a storm of emotions swirled inside him. Honestly, if anyone deserved an award for holding onto a grudge, Snape would win hands down. Maybe they could call it "The Golden Grudge" and hand it out at the next Hogwarts staff meeting. He'd have a whole collection by now.
The root of Snape’s bitterness? That lovely little incident with Sirius and the Shrieking Shack. Ah, yes, the prank. Sirius thought it would be hilarious to nearly get him mauled by a werewolf—something Snape definitely didn’t find funny. And Remus? Well, he was there, not exactly stopping it. Then James Potter swooped in at the last second, playing the hero, and Snape ended up owing his life to the guy he hated more than stale potions ingredients. Fantastic.
Even now, standing in the familiar corridors of Hogwarts, Snape could feel the chill from that night. He could still hear the sound of his own footsteps echoing through the Shrieking Shack, the mocking laughter of Sirius ringing in his ears, taunting him. It wasn’t like Snape wanted to think about it, but hey, traumatic memories had a way of sticking around like Bubotuber pus—gross and impossible to ignore.
And yet, as much as the resentment bubbled up, threatening to spill over, Snape couldn’t ignore the one thing keeping him tethered to reality: Lily Evans. Or rather, Lily Potter. Even now, thinking about her sent a pang through his chest. Sure, he hated James. Hated Sirius. Hated Remus, even if the guy was less of a menace. But Harry? That was a different story.
Snape wasn’t stupid—he knew Harry looked like a miniature version of his father, right down to that ridiculous hair. But beneath all that messy Potter nonsense was Lily’s son. And that made all the difference.
From the moment Snape heard about Harry's so-called "childhood" under Petunia's roof, he couldn’t bring himself to think of the boy as "Potter's spawn." He was "Lily's son." Simple as that. It wasn’t about Potter’s legacy or the Gryffindor bravado. It was about Lily—kind, brilliant Lily—and the promise Snape had made to protect what was left of her in this world.
So, even as Sirius and Remus gallivanted off with their noble speeches about protecting Harry, Snape stayed hidden, knowing his role was just as important—if not more. Someone had to keep an eye on things, make sure those two didn’t mess it all up. And if that someone happened to have a personal vendetta or two? Well, no one’s perfect.
As the shadows closed in around him once more, Snape felt a flicker of determination. He didn’t need fanfare or heartfelt speeches. He had a job to do, and he wasn’t about to let his old grudges get in the way of that. For Lily’s sake.
With one last glance toward the spot where Sirius and Remus had disappeared, Snape straightened his robes, his expression set in a determined scowl. He was ready to protect Lily's son, whether anyone knew it or not.
And if he also happened to remind Potter that he still wasn’t fond of him during their next lesson? Well, nobody said Snape had to make it easy.
—
As Sirius and Remus arrived at the Bones Family Estate, the relief was palpable. For Remus, who currently had no home (unless you count sleeping in shady inns), and Sirius, who couldn’t stand Grimmauld Place and its overwhelming murderous tapestry vibes, the estate had quickly become their sanctuary. It didn’t hurt that it was miles away from Dumbledore and his endless cryptic nonsense.
“Ah, Amelia Bones, the real MVP,” Sirius muttered under his breath as they passed through the gates and made their way up the path. "Thank Merlin for her."
Inside, the estate was warm and inviting, which was a far cry from the chilly tension they’d just left behind at Hogwarts. Between the elegant furniture (Remus was pretty sure he saw a chair that might’ve been older than Hogwarts itself) and the calming atmosphere, the two of them could finally unwind.
Amelia Bones, looking as calm and collected as ever, met them in the sitting room. “Harry and Susan are asleep,” she said with a smile. “Finally ran out of energy, I think.”
Sirius snorted. “Good luck with that tomorrow.” He glanced at Remus, both of them sharing a knowing chuckle. Kids, right?
Amelia settled into an armchair, the steam from her tea rising in delicate curls. “So,” she said, voice casual, but with that unmistakable edge of curiosity, “how did it go with Dumbledore?”
Remus sighed. Sirius scowled. That about summed it up.
“Well,” Sirius started, leaning back dramatically, “we confronted him. And surprise, surprise, he had all kinds of excuses ready for why Harry was left with those muggles.”
“The usual ‘blood wards’ spiel,” Remus added, making finger quotes. “Apparently, Harry was safe with his aunt. Safe, but, you know, completely miserable.”
Sirius’s scowl deepened. “I told him straight-up: for someone who claims to care about Harry, he’s got a funny way of showing it. Honestly, he’s been treating us like we’re clueless students instead of, you know, adults with a brain.”
Amelia frowned but nodded thoughtfully. “And the Potter family cloak?”
Sirius’s face darkened. “Oh, he gave it back,” he said, voice tight. “But not before I found out he’d stuck tracking charms on it. Without telling anyone.”
Amelia blinked, her calm mask slipping for a second. “He did what?”
“Yeah,” Remus said, shaking his head. “It’s clear Dumbledore has his own agenda. We can’t trust him to look out for Harry.”
“We’ll have to be careful,” Amelia agreed, her voice firmer now. “We’ll protect Harry from everything—even from Dumbledore if we have to.”
After a tense silence, Remus chuckled, clearly desperate to lighten the mood. “You’ll love this,” he said. “The Weasley twins asked us why we call each other Padfoot and Moony. They were practically vibrating with curiosity.”
Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Padfoot and Moony?”
Sirius grinned. “It’s an old Hogwarts thing. We had a group—James, me, Remus, and… well, Peter.” His voice hitched a little at the mention of Peter. The Marauders might’ve been legends, but Wormtail had cast a pretty big shadow over their legacy.
Amelia smiled. “Quite the pranksters, I’m guessing.”
“Oh, you bet,” Sirius replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We were unstoppable. I mean, who else could have gotten a full-blown firework display in the middle of Professor McGonagall’s lecture and lived to tell the tale?”
Remus shook his head with a fond smile. “Yeah, and we spent more time in detention than out of it, but we had each other’s backs.”
For a moment, the mood in the room brightened as Sirius regaled Amelia with tales of their legendary pranks. Remus could practically see the twinkle in her eyes at hearing about their Hogwarts days.
But Amelia, always practical, brought them back to reality. “Speaking of the Weasley twins,” she said, her eyes twinkling, “did they have anything interesting to say?”
Sirius grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Oh, did they ever. They’re on board with my candy business idea.”
Amelia looked intrigued. “A candy business?”
Remus, looking both amused and resigned, jumped in. “Oh, yes. You see, Sirius here has decided that pranks are not just a hobby—they’re a business opportunity. And who better to recruit than the Weasley twins?”
“Exactly!” Sirius said, practically bouncing in his seat. “And I got Andi to help too! She’s going to add some magic to the sweets. We’re talking exploding sherbet lemons, bubblegum that lets you float for five minutes, and—get this—chocolate frogs that do actual magic tricks!”
Amelia looked impressed. “That’s… ambitious.”
Remus smirked. “With Andi’s potion skills, the twins’ ingenuity, and Sirius’s, um, entrepreneurial spirit, I think we might just pull it off.”
Amelia smiled. “Well, I can’t wait to see what you all come up with. Though I’d keep an eye on Fred and George—they might just prank you back.”
Sirius leaned back, looking pleased with himself. “Let them try. I taught them everything they know.”
Remus gave him a look. “Pretty sure they taught themselves most of it, Pads.”
Sirius just grinned wider. “Details, Moony. Details.”
As the laughter filled the room, the tension of the earlier conversation faded. In that moment, surrounded by friends and allies, they felt just a little bit lighter—ready to face whatever came next.
—
The morning sun poured into the Bones Family Estate, turning the kitchen into a warm, golden haven. The smell of bacon and eggs danced through the air as Amelia worked over the stove, her movements calm and precise. Across the table, Sirius and Remus were nursing cups of tea, their voices low as they recapped last night's revelations.
"We’ve got to tell him about the cloak," Sirius muttered, his brows furrowed.
Remus nodded. "And about Dumbledore’s little... oversight."
Just as the conversation turned serious, Harry and Susan walked into the kitchen, the energy of a new day radiating off them like sunshine. Harry’s grin was bright enough to rival the morning light. "Morning!" he called out.
"Good morning, you two," Amelia greeted with a warm smile. "Sit down. Breakfast’s almost done."
As they took their seats, Sirius shot a glance at Remus and then back at Harry, his face a mix of pride and something more serious. "Harry, we’ve got something important to give you."
Harry looked up, curiosity lighting his green eyes. "What is it?"
Sirius reached into his robes, pulling out a shimmering piece of fabric that seemed to ripple like liquid silver. "This is your father’s Invisibility Cloak. It’s been in your family for generations, and now it belongs to you."
Harry’s jaw dropped. "An Invisibility Cloak? Are you serious?"
Drakor’s voice echoed in Harry’s mind, dripping with sarcasm. “No, Harry. He’s Sirius. We’ve been over this. Pay attention.”
Harry tried not to laugh at Drakor’s remark but failed miserably. Sirius, missing the joke, just smiled. "Yeah, really. Your dad got it from his dad, and now it’s yours. We had to retrieve it from Dumbledore last night."
Remus’s expression turned grim. "Dumbledore had placed tracking charms on it. We removed them, but you should know—he didn’t ask our permission or inform us."
Harry blinked, his mind spinning. "Tracking charms? Why would he do that?"
Amelia stepped in, her voice firm but understanding. "Dumbledore believed it was for your protection. But that doesn’t change the fact that it was done without your knowledge."
Drakor piped up in Harry’s mind, his tone protective and a little indignant. “Hey, hey, relax. No one’s tracking you now, Harry. I mean, except me. But I’m fun to have around.”
Susan, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up, her eyes wide with excitement. "You should try it on, Harry! I’ve read about Invisibility Cloaks, but I’ve never seen one."
Harry grinned, pulling the cloak over himself. In an instant, his body vanished, leaving only his floating head visible. Susan gasped, and Amelia chuckled.
"That’s brilliant!" Susan squealed. "You really disappear completely!"
Harry pulled the cloak off, his eyes sparkling. "This is amazing! Thank you, Sirius, Remus. Seriously, best gift ever."
Sirius’s smile softened. "Just remember, Harry, it’s not a toy. Use it wisely."
Remus added with a warm smile, "And always remember—you’ve got us. You don’t have to face anything alone."
Drakor, ever the dramatic, chimed in. “Except when you’re invisible. Then you’re totally alone... or so they think. But I’ll be here! I see all!”
Harry grinned to himself. Life with Drakor was like having a very eccentric, overly protective roommate in his head.
Just then, Drakor’s tone shifted, becoming more curious. “Hold on, this cloak... it’s not just any invisibility thingy. There’s something special about it. Seriously, it’s practically screaming ‘I have secrets!’”
Harry frowned slightly, feeling Drakor's curiosity swirling in his mind. "What do you mean, Drakor?"
Drakor was practically buzzing with excitement now. “I don’t know! But it’s old. Like, really old. And powerful. This thing’s not just a fancy blanket for sneaking into restricted sections.”
Amelia, who had been listening thoughtfully, tilted her head. "Most Invisibility Cloaks don’t last more than a decade or two. The magic fades, or they tear. The fact that this one is still in perfect condition after all these years... there’s definitely more to it."
Sirius shrugged. "It’s been in the Potter family for ages. James got it from his father, and who knows how far back it goes."
Remus looked thoughtful. "It could be worth investigating. There’s a lot we don’t know about it."
Harry’s curiosity piqued. "I’d like to know more. If this cloak has a history, I want to understand it."
Susan’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "This sounds like a real adventure! Imagine what we could discover!"
Drakor’s voice cut in, full of excitement and pride. “Adventure! Mystery! Epic discoveries! Oh, this is going to be good, Harry. Stick with me, and we’ll unravel this cloak’s secrets like pros. Just call me Drakor: Detective Dragon!”
Harry chuckled internally. “I didn’t know I signed up for a buddy cop movie.”
“Oh, you did,” Drakor replied smugly. “And I’m the cool one. Obviously.”
Harry couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement and gratitude. "Thanks, Drakor. And thank you, all of you. This cloak isn’t just a tool—it’s a connection to my parents. And I want to learn everything I can about it."
Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. "We’ll be with you every step of the way, Harry. Your parents would be proud."
Remus nodded, his eyes full of warmth. "You’re part of something much bigger than just Hogwarts. And we’re going to make sure you understand and embrace it."
As they finished breakfast, Harry felt a sense of unity in the room. The Invisibility Cloak, mysterious and ancient, wasn’t just a cloak anymore. It was a symbol of his heritage, a piece of his parents’ legacy—and an adventure waiting to unfold. With Drakor’s playful voice in his head and his family by his side, Harry knew he wasn’t alone on this journey.
“Let’s go, partner,” Drakor said with a mischievous grin in Harry’s mind. “The world’s not ready for us.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile. “No, it really isn’t.”