The newspaper might not be British, but the reports in it were vivid and detailed, as if they had eyes and a nose of their own.
Especially the photograph on the page—it was undeniable proof that the report wasn’t re fabrication.
Turning to the next page revealed another photograph—a woman who looked like an older, more mature version of Veratia, perhaps in her late twenties. Her commanding presence seed to radiate off the page, as if it could pierce the heavens themselves.
"Is this another ?" Veratia asked with interest, picking up the newspaper. "Hmm, she doesn’t exactly seem like a shining hero, does she? But why, I wonder, did things turn out this way?"
Yes, why indeed?
"Perhaps because, in that tiline, the Potters weren’t killed by Voldemort," Mr. Flal said, crossing his arms. "As a result, Harry never traveled back a hundred years to befriend Miss Grindelwald... and the Miss Grindelwald who remained in that tiline is evidently far more dangerous than Gellert Grindelwald ever was. So... she beca the figure we see in this newspaper."
"Then why do we still rember everything that happened before?" Poppy asked skeptically. "Like eting Harry, our days at Hogwarts..."
"That’s due to the unique nature of this alchemy room, Miss Sweating," Mr. Flal explained with a cheerful smile. "It’s inscribed with so curious little runes that can temporarily shield us from the effects of a shifting tiline..."
"I see..." Poppy nodded, this ti truly understanding, rather than only half-grasping the explanation.
"But..." Veratia’s attention was clearly elsewhere. "Look, if we’re being logical, the in that tiline should be over a hundred and ten years old by now, right? So why does she still look so young?"
It was an excellent question, and it stumped everyone in the room.
"You’re focusing on the strangest things, Grindelwald," Cassandra said, her lips curling slightly. Yet her eyes were glued to the photograph, clearly intrigued by the question as well.
"It seems like the Veratia in that tiline is truly remarkable," Poppy said wistfully. "A Magic Empress? That title alone sounds incredibly grand... But why would you, in that tiline, want to invade Europe?"
"In fact, her ultimate goal is to unify the entire world," Mrs. Perenelle said, tilting her head to glance at Veratia. "It’s worth noting that this cabin won’t hold out for long. If that tiline fully rges with ours, all of you will vanish..."
Mrs. Perenelle’s words extinguished the last shred of hope in the room.
"So," Poppy asked suddenly, "how do we fix this disrupted tiline? What should we do?"
Her question plunged the room into silence.
How to fix the tiline?
It was simple, in theory—just send Jas and Lily back to their original tiline.
But...
"It looks like we need to go back," Jas said lightly, slinging an arm around his wife’s shoulders. "If I’m guessing correctly, not only do we have to return, but we also have to die under Voldemort’s curse as we were ant to, ensuring Harry travels back a hundred years to befriend Miss Grindelwald and bring her back here... creating a closed loop in the tiline, right?"
"No!" Sirius shot to his feet, his voice fierce. "I absolutely won’t let you go back like that—"
"Listen to , Sirius," Jas said with a warm smile. "This is our fate, what we’re ant to do. Even though we’ll still face death, compared to our original world, this is already more than we could have hoped for... At least we know Voldemort will ultimately fall, and our son will beco a hero—a legendary wizard from a century ago, no less."
At this, Jas winked at Harry.
"Yes, my son’s outdone ," he continued. "To think, three remarkable girls are willing to give everything for him..."
His voice caught, as if sothing sharp were clawing at his throat, painful and raw.
Harry’s eyes reddened.
But he couldn’t find a way to keep his parents here.
"But we could fight that Grindelwald together..." Sirius began, only for Jas to place a steady hand on his shoulder, his voice gentle yet resolute.
"We don’t belong here, Sirius," he said. "Lily and I won’t let the world bear such consequences just so we can cling to a few more days. That’s not what we want."
Sirius breathed heavily, clutching his head in anguish.
"Padfoot," Lily said softly, "thank you for everything you’ve done for us, for Harry. But this is sothing we have to do."
"At least stay for a al before you go," Lupin interjected, trying to hold them back. "Mr. Flal said this cabin will hold for a while. Why not eat with us first?"
Lupin’s suggestion was t with agreent from everyone present.
There was no need to rush off just yet—not before sharing a al together.
"I’ll prepare dinner," Lily said warmly. "Harry’s never tasted my cooking..."
Harry sniffled and nodded firmly.
Sirius volunteered to help Lily in the kitchen—a role he’d often taken on in the past, though Lily preferred to call it "making a ss."
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Lily shooed him out of the kitchen.
"Haha..." Sirius laughed awkwardly, trying to salvage his dignity. "Lily doesn’t actually need my help..."
"No, she doesn’t need you causing chaos," Lupin quipped, rcilessly exposing his friend. "You were banned from the kitchen back then because you kept making a ss."
Sirius’s face flushed as he stamred explanations—sothing about "spilling a pot isn’t causing chaos" and "mistaking sugar for salt is perfectly normal." The room filled with lighthearted laughter.
"You can tell the dogfather’s nose isn’t exactly sharp," Cassandra whispered to Poppy with a smirk.
"So you’re admitting he’s the godfather?" Poppy whispered back teasingly.
Cassandra’s face turned red, and she let out a heavy "hmph" but didn’t argue further.
Poppy giggled, choosing not to press her further.
Harry laughed for a mont before noticing Veratia lost in thought, her head bowed. Concerned, he asked, "What’s wrong?"
"Sothing feels off," Veratia said, frowning. "It’s like we’re missing sothing... Wait, I’m almost there..."
Seeing her deep in thought, Harry didn’t press further, not wanting to interrupt her.
Poppy suddenly bounced behind Harry, wrapping her arms around him from behind.
"Hey, Harry!" she said. "Should we invite Lady Death? I an, she’s the one who gave you that gem, right? Without it, you wouldn’t have seen your parents."
At Poppy’s words, Veratia’s eyes sharpened.
"You’re right, Poppy," Harry nodded. "We should thank her. I almost forgot if you hadn’t reminded ..."
"I’ll go get her!" Poppy chirped, practically skipping toward the alchemy room.
Her enthusiastic bouncing sent ripples through the air, leaving Harry montarily dizzy.
What’s blinding my eyes?!
Monts later, Poppy returned, with Lady Death trailing behind her.
But no one expected what happened next. The mont Lady Death stepped into the room, Veratia raised her hand and cast a spell.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light struck the unprepared Lady Death.
Yet, astonishingly, the Killing Curse seed to have no effect. It was as if she’d been hit with a trivial charm instead of a deadly spell.
"You’re not Death. Who are you?" Veratia demanded, her wand trained on the figure, her stance wary and alert.
Harry stood, drawing his own wand.
He trusted Veratia instinctively. If she’d resorted to the Killing Curse, she must have had a reason.
Lady Death smiled brightly at Veratia’s question.
Then, to everyone’s shock, a black vortex swirled around her. With a crackle of distorted space, the white-haired figure of Death vanished, replaced by a striking young woman.
"Veratia?! No—you’re that Magic Empress!" Harry shouted in disbelief.
Indeed, this woman was none other than Veratia Grindelwald, the older version of Veratia from the newspaper photograph.
At Harry’s words, the wizards in the room leapt to their feet, wands drawn.
No wonder—the newspaper had described this Veratia Grindelwald as...
"You seem surprised, Potter," Veratia said, lowering her head slightly and smiling with narrowed eyes.
She lifted her gaze to Veratia.
"So this is the boyfriend you’ve chosen? How disappointing, my other self..."
Veratia didn’t respond to the taunt. Instead, she asked coldly, "Why did you disguise yourself as Death? What’s your goal?"
"My goal?" Veratia laughed. "You’ve misunderstood , my other self. The fruit I planted has ripened, and now it’s ti to harvest..."
"Fruit?" Veratia’s eyes narrowed, a suspicion forming in her mind about what Veratia ant by "fruit."
"Of course, it’s you, my dear," Veratia said, drawing her wand from her robes. "But... there’s still a little ti before my fruit is fully ripe. You should know—every gift of fate cos with a hidden price. And this is the cost of using that gem."
Her haughty gaze swept over the room, landing on Dumbledore.
"Albus," she said softly. "Or rather, the Albus of this tiline. I must say, I didn’t expect you to look like this in your old age."
"Does it disappoint you, dear lady?" Dumbledore replied with his characteristic humor and grace.
"Not at all," Veratia said, her eyes twitching slightly. "If anyone’s disappointed, it would be Gellert... But I’ve heard a bit about your story in this tiline."
"Have you?" Dumbledore smiled noncommittally. "Just the boring tales of an old man. I’d prefer it if you returned to your own world, rather than staying in ours."
"Oh, really? You’re so eager to restore the original tiline, Albus?" Veratia’s eyes narrowed further.
"I desire nothing else, Miss Grindelwald," Dumbledore said, gripping his Elder Wand tightly.
He was ready for a fight.
Even sixteen-year-old Veratia had been a challenge. He couldn’t imagine the dueling prowess of a hundred-and-sixteen-year-old Veratia Grindelwald.
"If I were you, I wouldn’t be so sure, Albus," Veratia said with a smile that, though elegant, sent a chill through the room.
"Perhaps I should tell little Anna that her brother doesn’t wish to see her."
"Anna?!" Dumbledore’s face changed. "You an... Ariana?!"
Veratia’s smile grew smug. "Yes, Albus. In my tiline, Ariana didn’t die. I resolved her Obscurus problem. Now, she’s my most trusted ally. We call her... Raphael..."
Before she could finish, another flash of green light struck her.
Veratia flicked her fingers, and an indistinct beam of light coiled like a snake, binding Veratia tightly.
"You think you can kill yourself?" Veratia mocked. "Or has love clouded your judgnt, making you weak?"
"I may be weak, Grindelwald," Veratia said, biting her lip and glaring defiantly. "But I’m never alone."
As she spoke, a dark cloud ford above Veratia’s head.
It was Harry’s ancient magic.
But Veratia didn’t flinch. With a casual wave of her hand, the cloud dissipated.
Harry tried to summon his ancient magic again, only to find, to his horror, that he’d sohow lost control of it.
"You dare use my magic against , Potter?" Veratia’s lips curled into a mocking smile.
Then, to the shock of everyone in the room, she declared slowly:
"Yes, I am what you call... rlin."
"But I prefer the other na the world gives ."
"God!"
--
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