Two days after the last exam, the results for the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s arrived, and just like that, the weight hanging over Hogwarts lifted. The castle seed to exhale in relief. Students lounged in the courtyards, their laughter echoing louder, and wandered the halls, no longer clutching their textbooks like lifelines.
Tomorrow, they would be boarding the train ho for their sumr holidays, but before that, one final tradition remained: the End-of-Year Feast.
Evening arrived, and the Great Hall was transford into a full-blown celebration. The end-of-year feast was in full swing, and the house-elves had truly outdone themselves. The tables were piled high with enough food to feed an army—golden roasted turkeys, creamy mashed potatoes, thick slabs of chocolate cake, and warm slices of pumpkin pie.
But the highlight of the night wasn't the feast—it was the announcent of the House Cup winner. Before the feast began, Dumbledore stood and gave a short speech, highlighting the important events that had taken place throughout the year.
He congratulated all the students for the significant increase in passing rates and then turned to the matter of the House Cup.
Slytherin led with 475 points, followed by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, with Gryffindor at the bottom with only 300 points.
But not for long. As Maverick had expected, Dumbledore awarded his favorite Gryffindor trio a hefty boost of 150 points for their efforts in protecting the Philosopher's Stone. Though he didn't ntion it outright, he ambiguously praised their bravery, loyalty, and standing up for what was right as the reason.
Unfortunately, even with that generous boost, it wasn't enough for Gryffindor House to reach the top.
Neville hadn't been involved this ti—at least, not in any way that changed the outco—so his na didn't co up. The final tally stood: Slytherin with 475 points, Gryffindor just behind with 450. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff weren't far off either, both finishing in the 400s. It had been a close race all around.
The Slytherin students celebrated with pride, but the other three houses didn't back down either. The House Cup was just that—the House Cup—and it wasn't enough to dampen their excitent for the upcoming sumr holidays.
At the staff table, the professors also shared in the joyous atmosphere—well, most of them. Snape was still Snape—even a grand feast like this couldn't make his lips curl up once. Filch, as usual, kept to himself, with his cat by his side.
The rest of the professors, however, appeared genuinely satisfied, enjoying the evening as much as anyone. They engaged in casual conversation, talking about their plans for the holidays or inviting one another to visit their hos as guests.
McGonagall and Dumbledore were already deep in conversation about the upcoming school year. Both regarded Hogwarts as their true ho, and even during the holidays, they rarely left the castle for long. They would have made the perfect pair—if only Dumbledore's preference wasn't the company of McGonagall's wand over McGonagall herself.
Ever since Quirrell's sudden "disappearance" was announced, Dumbledore had been the one covering the remaining Defense Against the Dark Arts classes—and he still hadn't found a suitable replacent. Or any replacent, for that matter.
He had even approached Maverick with the suggestion, asking if he would be willing to take on another role. But Maverick had refused—decisively. He excused himself on the spot and walked away, leaving the headmaster montarily speechless.
Alas, the old wizard could only sigh.
The feast ended around ten o'clock, and most students returned to their common rooms for a good night's rest before the long train ride in the morning. But not everyone. One particular Gryffindor was quietly making his way through the corridors, headed straight for Maverick's office.
---
"You can co in..." Maverick's voice called from inside his office, just as Harry raised his hand to knock. The door creaked open on its own.
He stepped inside and found the office brightly lit, warm, and filled with the scent of burning wood. Without a word, he made his way to the chair across from Maverick's desk and sat down.
"You asked to see after the banquet, Professor?" Harry asked, looking a little puzzled.
Maverick nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Yes, Harry. There are a few important things we need to talk about."
Harry tilted his head slightly. "Is this about Quidditch?" he asked after a short pause.
Maverick gave a small shake of his head. "It's not Quidditch. It's about what happened in the third-floor corridor two months ago."
Harry's expression shifted at once. "Is this about… Vold... I an... You-Know-Who?" he asked as voice dropped to a whisper near the end.
"Yes," Maverick said. "Harry, do you know what it was you saw behind Quirrell's head that night?"
Harry frowned and looked down at his hands. "I rember him saying sothing about being a parasite. That's all I rember."
Maverick nodded slowly. "That's right. Voldemort is not gone, Harry. Not completely. What you saw that night was a piece of him… what was left after your mother's sacrificial magic stopped him. Now he's clinging to life... barely... waiting for a chance to return. To co back whole."
Harry's eyes widened. "Mom sacrificed for ?"
Maverick nodded. "Rember at the hospital wing when I said the Killing Curse can almost never be stopped?"
Harry nodded.
"There are ways it can be blocked," Maverick continued. "The most efficient way is to dodge. The other is simply using a strong physical object to block it. There are a few more complicated thods as well, and then finally, there's sacrificial magic. The kind your parents used."
"When she threw herself in the way of the Killing Curse ant for you... it ended her life... but at the sa ti, it triggered a powerful kind of magic. Sacrificial magic. It shielded you."
"Voldemort didn't understand it. No one really does, not fully. But when he tried to kill you next, the curse rebounded. Your mother's protection turned it back on him. That's how he lost his body."
Maverick told the story to Harry just as Dumbledore had explained it to him a month ago, without omitting any details.
The old wizard had asked Maverick a second ti now, to teach Harry... if not as an apprentice, then at least as a ntor. And Maverick had finally agreed.
However, he made it clear that it would be on his terms. He would not manipulate Harry or test him behind the scenes. Instead, he would offer straightforward guidance, just like his own teacher Edward had taught him.
And Dumbledore, surprisingly, without any other argunts, agreed to the conditions.
So, one of the purposes for eting Harry tonight was to help him understand what had happened that night. And by the ti Maverick finished, Harry's eyes were glassy. A single tear slipped down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away.
Maverick let the boy process his emotions and let the silence stretch.
And Harry, as expected, regained his composure remarkably quickly. After a mont, he asked the important question, without Maverick even having to prompt him.
"Do you think he'll co after ?"
"Yes. Eventually," Maverick nodded. "But while you're here at school, you will be under our protection... And while you're ho, you'll be safe as well. That's also part of why I called you here tonight."
Harry looked confused. "What do you an?"
"I an your ho," Maverick said. "Your guardians, specifically."
Harry's expression faltered. He looked uncomfortable, as if he didn't want to speak.
Maverick's voice broke the silence. "Do you trust ?"
The question caught Harry off guard. He was taken aback by the sudden change in topic. But he didn't hesitate long, and as soon as the question registered, he gave a firm nod saying, "yes!"
Maverick regarded the boy for a mont, his magical senses picking up on the sincerity in Harry's words. "Then since you trust ... can you tell what it's like? Living there. With your guardians?"
For a mont, Harry just stared at him. Then sothing within him changed, like a wall breaking down. It was the first ti he had ever felt this... trust... towards an adult. He looked away briefly, as though gathering his thoughts, and then back at his professor once again.
He told Maverick everything.
How he was treated more like a burden than family. The chores. The cupboard. The way his cousin was spoiled and he was ignored. The nas. The silence. The cold als. All of it.
Maverick listened without interrupting. But the longer Harry spoke, the harder Maverick's expression beca. He found it really hard to believe Petunia Dursley was Harry's blood relative. The damn woman had treated her own sister's child like a slave.
This wasn't so clichéd wuxia world, after all, where blood ant nothing and jealousy turned relatives into enemies. This was England. This was real life.
Harry stopped after a while. He looked down at his hands again.
"Are you going to take away from them?" he asked quietly. His voice was soft, but Maverick could feel the weight in it. Harry was being sincere. He didn't want to go back to that house.
Maverick sighed. "I can't," he said. "Because your ho… it protects you, Harry. Your mother's magic is still working through your aunt's blood. As long as you live there, Voldemort can't find you. That's why you must return during the holidays. For your own safety."
Harry's face twisted into sothing complicated. Disappointnt.
"But," Maverick added.
Harry looked up quickly.
"What I can do," Maverick said, "is speak with your relatives myself. During the holidays, I'll visit your ho."
"They hate magic," Harry said. "They might not listen. Unless… unless you can really scare them. Like turn Uncle Dursley into a pig or sothing…"
Maverick chuckled, caught off guard. "Is that what you want to happen to your uncle, Harry?" he asked, raising a brow.
Harry shrugged. "Not forever. May be a few minutes... just to scare him."
Maverick's Magical-Sense picked up the honesty in Harry's words. He ant it, yet the thought hadn't crossed the red line. Despite everything that pig of a man had done to him, the boy hadn't wished him any real harm. Not even in passing.
"You don't have to worry about what I would do, Harry," Maverick said. "And I won't need to scare them. Just talk... adults to adults. But I promise you this... they will treat you better after my visit."
Harry looked at him with real hope, sothing soft and honest in his eyes. "Thank you, Professor."
Maverick nodded, smiling, and then stood. "You should head back to your common room," he said. "I'll see you during the holidays. Until then, act like nothing's going to change."
Harry nodded, stood from his chair, and left the room with a spring in his step.
When the door closed behind him, Maverick sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"Headmaster," he said aloud, "you keep giving bigger and bigger headaches to manage."
From the far side of the room, a shimr stirred the air. Dumbledore stepped out of a Disillusionnt Charm and took the seat Harry had just left.
"I should thank you," the old wizard said. His eyes were tired but kind. "Truly. I've been negligent. I thought I was doing what was best for him, but I let the years slip away. I spent so long trying to find a way to separate him from the Horcrux… I forgot to see how he was living."
Maverick waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. He's my student too. I'll take care of it."
Dumbledore tilted his head. "And how do you plan to handle it?"
Maverick gave a knowing smirk. "Headmaster… did you forget who my father is?"
Dumbledore paused, then let out a quiet chuckle. "Ah. Yes. Of course."
"I'll deal with them the most Muggle and legal way possible," Maverick said. "They'll change. Or they'll wish they had."
Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you again, Maverick."
They talked a while longer, and when Dumbledore finally left, the room fell quiet again. Maverick sat in the silence, watching the dying fire in the hearth, thinking about the boy with the lightning scar—and the long list of things to do in the sumr ahead.
Sigh.
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Author's Note:
This concludes the events of Harry Potter Book 1.
Thank you, everyone, for sticking with ... for your support, your feedback, and your kindness. I truly, truly appreciate each and every one of you.
The next arc will focus on the sumr holidays: a little bit of Marvel, a little bit of Harry Potter, and (cough) it won't be long.
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