Harry Potter: MageX

Let's be clear: watching Garrick Ollivander at work is a bit like watching a wizard Picasso paint a masterpiece, except there's more sawdust and fewer berets. The Great Hall, transformed into a makeshift wand workshop, smelled faintly of fresh wood shavings, melted metal, and a touch of old magic that made your hair stand on end. Jean and Harry stood off to the side, watching Ollivander handle their materials with the precision of someone who had been doing this since dinosaurs roamed the earth—or at least that's how it seemed.

"This one will be special," Ollivander muttered to himself, holding Jean's holly and adamantine. His eyes gleamed like a kid unwrapping a rare Chocolate Frog card. "A wand for commanding the elements themselves. Oh yes, this will be remarkable."

Jean tilted her head, her fiery red hair catching the light as if to say, Of course, it will be remarkable—I'm holding it. But she simply smiled and said, "No pressure or anything."

Ollivander didn't even flinch, too absorbed in fusing the adamantine with the holly. The M'Kraan Crystal hovered in midair, glowing softly like it had a personality. And maybe it did. That would explain why it seemed to be watching everything with a level of judgment only rivaled by Professor McGonagall during detention.

Harry, meanwhile, was captivated by the elder wood and vibranium coming together for his wand. "This is going to be... intense," he said, half to Ollivander, half to himself.

"Intense?" Sirius, lounging nearby with his signature smirk (a smirk that screamed I'm too handsome for my own good), scoffed. "Harry, 'intense' is a Quidditch final. That wand you're holding? That's the kind of thing wizards write epic ballads about. Or at least very dramatic limericks."

Susan Bones, standing a little to the left, rolled her eyes but smiled. "Ballads? Please. Harry barely survived that letter from a reporter last month asking him to be part of the Wizard's Weekly cover shoot. The headline was 'The Boy Who Lived—And Got Taller!'" She grinned at Harry, who turned a shade of red that clashed spectacularly with his hair.

Jean leaned toward Harry, mock-whispering, "You're kind of famous, you know. Just a little."

Harry groaned, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Thanks for the reminder."

Ollivander cleared his throat dramatically, holding up Jean's finished wand. "And here it is," he said, his voice reverent. The wand was slim, elegant, and shimmered faintly, as if it held a fragment of a storm cloud waiting to be unleashed. The M'Kraan Crystal at its tip pulsed with energy. "This wand will reflect your fire, Miss Grey. Quite literally, I suspect."

Jean took the wand with both hands, as if it were Excalibur. The moment her fingers touched it, the wand crackled with a surge of warmth. "Wow," she whispered. "It's perfect."

"You're welcome," Ollivander replied, though it sounded more like You're lucky I'm a genius.

Next, he turned to Harry's wand, which was shaping up to look less like a wand and more like a weapon you'd find in a treasure chest guarded by a dragon. The elder wood gleamed darkly, the vibranium running through it like veins of lightning. The M'Kraan Crystal, seated in a pommel-like design, practically hummed with power.

"This one," Ollivander said with a deep, dramatic breath, "is a beast of a wand. It will challenge you, Mr. Potter. It will push you to your limits."

"Fantastic," Harry deadpanned. "Just what I needed—more magical challenges. Can't wait."

"Don't be such a drama queen," Sirius chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. "It suits you. Very brooding hero with just a dash of 'don't mess with me.'"

Ororo Munroe, who had been quietly observing from the side like the epitome of grace and wisdom, finally spoke. "I would suggest," she said, her voice smooth as a summer breeze but with the weight of thunder behind it, "that you respect the power of that wand, Harry. It is not a toy."

Harry nodded quickly. "Noted."

Tonks, who had been unusually quiet (mostly because she was trying not to trip over her own feet again), finally piped up. "Wotcher, Harry! Nice wand. But if you break this one, I'm calling dibs on the next magical relic you find."

"Tonks," Sirius drawled, "you'd probably trip and accidentally set it on fire."

"Rude!" Tonks shot back, though she was grinning. "You're just jealous you don't get a cool new wand."

Dumbledore, who had been stroking his beard thoughtfully, finally stepped forward. "These wands," he said, his tone as solemn as a prophecy, "represent more than just tools. They are extensions of your essence. Treat them with care, and they will be loyal. Mistreat them..." His gaze flicked briefly to the elder wand in Harry's hand. "And you may not like the consequences."

Harry gulped, suddenly feeling like he was holding a small, magical nuke.

Jean, ever the confident one, gave her wand a small flick, and a tiny spark of flame danced from the tip. "No pressure, huh?" she said with a grin.

Sirius clapped Harry on the back, nearly making him drop the wand. "No pressure at all! Now, who's up for testing these bad boys out? I say we start with blasting a hole through that wall. Or—better idea—Snape's office."

"Sirius," Dumbledore said mildly, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Let's not."

As the group began to leave, wands in hand and banter flying freely, Ollivander stood back, watching them with a faint smile. "Extraordinary children," he murmured to himself. "Extraordinary wands. I can only hope the world is ready for them."

—

The Hogwarts night was almost peaceful. By peaceful, I mean if you ignored the faint sound of Peeves cackling somewhere down the hall and the occasional thud of a wayward house-elf dropping something in the kitchen below. But for Jean Grey, none of that mattered. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, twirling her brand-new wand like it was the coolest thing since sliced bread—or, in her case, a particularly good Charms textbook.

"This," Jean said, holding the wand up like it was Excalibur, "is possibly the greatest thing I've ever owned. Sorry, smartphone, you've been replaced."

Across the room, Ororo Munroe sat in an armchair that somehow made her look even more regal, her long legs tucked elegantly beneath her. The moonlight streaming through the enchanted window caught the streaks of white in her hair, making her look like she'd just walked out of some epic fantasy painting. Not that she'd ever admit it, but Ororo definitely knew how to command a room—without even trying. She had a thick book open on her lap, something dense with magical theory, but her gaze flicked up every so often, amused by Jean's ongoing wand obsession.

"You're going to wear that wand out before we even get to Diagon Alley," Ororo teased, her voice soft but carrying the warmth of a summer breeze. It was one of those voices that could calm a stampede—or make you rethink your life choices if she really wanted to.

Jean grinned and leaned back on her elbows, the wand still in hand. "Can you blame me? It's so... perfect. Look at this thing! It feels like it was made just for me. Probably because it was, but still." She gave it another twirl, sending a spark of fiery light into the air. "And did you see Ollivander's face when he handed it to me? He practically said, 'Go forth and conquer, Chosen One.'"

"Pretty sure he says that to everyone," Ororo said, lips twitching into a small smile.

Jean sat up straight, pointing the wand at her like she was making some grand declaration. "No way. This wand and I? We're special. Like, Frodo-and-the-One-Ring-level special. Except, you know, less ominous and with way less hiking."

Ororo arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow and set her book aside. "I'm not entirely sure you should be comparing yourself to Frodo. He nearly got swallowed by a giant spider, you know."

Jean made a face. "Fair point. But seriously, Ororo—aren't you even a little excited for tomorrow? Diagon Alley! Shops full of magical stuff! A giant ice cream parlor! Quidditch supplies!" She said the last part like it was the Holy Grail.

Ororo folded her hands in her lap, looking every inch the wise older sister figure she'd somehow become. "Of course I'm looking forward to it," she said, her tone as steady as ever. "But I'm also not the type to wear myself out with anticipation. You might want to save some of that energy for actually being there. You'll thank me when you don't pass out halfway through the day."

"Okay, Mom," Jean said, rolling her eyes but grinning all the same. "But don't think I didn't see you slip that guidebook about magical herbology into your bag earlier. You're just as excited as I am—you're just better at hiding it."

Ororo didn't deny it, but there was a glint in her eye that said Jean had hit the mark. "Let's just say I'm... curious to see what Diagon Alley has to offer."

"Curious, my butt," Jean muttered, but it was under her breath. She wasn't about to push her luck—Ororo had a way of turning even the most playful conversation into a life lesson if you gave her the chance.

The two fell into a companionable silence after that, the only sounds the faint rustling of Ororo's book as she turned the pages and Jean's occasional muttered exclamations as she tested out small flicks of her wand. It was the kind of silence that comes when you know you're about to step into something big, something life-changing.

And sure, Jean couldn't predict exactly what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was certain: if the night was already this magical, Diagon Alley was going to blow her mind.

—

Meanwhile, in the room next door, chaos reigned. But, like, the good kind of chaos—more along the lines of lighthearted mayhem than anything that might get you in trouble with the Ministry (for now, at least). Tonks and Susan were on full gossip alert, like two teen detectives in a crime drama, except the crime they were solving was the mysterious world of Hogwarts sneaking spots, and the drama was all about who could make the best midnight snack run without getting caught by Filch.

"So, you're telling me there are secret spots for... alone time?" Susan asked, eyes wide and gleaming with that mix of curiosity and teenage mischief. She leaned forward as if Tonks was about to reveal the secrets of the universe—or at least how to get away with skipping class without being seen.

Tonks, who always seemed to be one step away from tripping over her own feet (which, honestly, was probably her greatest talent), grinned like she'd just discovered fire. "Oh, absolutely! Hogwarts is practically built for sneaking around. It's like a treasure map, but instead of gold, you're looking for places where you can read Magical Mysteries Monthly without anyone interrupting you."

As she said this, she took a dramatic step backward, only to almost faceplant into the wall. It was like watching a graceful ballerina if the ballerina had two left feet and zero sense of balance. Tonks caught herself at the last second, just barely saving herself from what would've been an epic disaster.

"Whoops! As I was saying," Tonks continued, brushing herself off like she hadn't just nearly turned into a pile of clumsy disaster, "the real trick is knowing where Filch and Mrs. Norris aren't lurking. You're talking about the ultimate sneak-detection squad. They live to ruin the fun."

Susan's eyes widened further, like she'd just discovered a secret potion that could turn her into an invisible ghost. "Filch and Mrs. Norris are a thing?" she asked, clearly trying to process the mental image of Hogwarts' least favorite caretaker being... a thing.

Tonks nodded sagely, her face going dead serious—except, you know, the rest of her body was still bouncing around like she had an inner pogo stick. "Oh, definitely. It's like this twisted partnership, right? Filch thinks he's all tough because he's the caretaker, but Mrs. Norris? She's the real power behind the throne. That cat is a sneak-detecting machine. I'm talking magical levels of stealth. Don't even get me started on what happens if you step on her tail. You'll think you've summoned a Dementor by accident."

Susan stared, wide-eyed, but then her face lit up with a mischievous gleam. "Okay, okay, but like... where are these secret spots? You can't just say 'alone time' and leave me hanging."

"Oh, no no," Tonks said, wagging her finger with mock seriousness. "You don't just find the secret spots. They find you, or they don't. It's like the room chooses you. Ever heard of the Prefects Bathroom? That's a classic, but it's got a lot of... other uses. You really don't want to walk in there unprepared. Trust me."

Susan made a mental note to start looking for secret passages and enchanted rooms. "Okay, I need to find this room," she said, her voice filled with determination. "What else?"

Tonks paused for a dramatic effect, her grin turning devilish. "There's the old library, but you've got to be careful. You could get trapped in there for hours. Books will start whispering, trying to convince you that you need them. Not even joking. I got locked in there once, and the book I was reading started giving me life advice. Life advice. From a book. Pretty sure it was more confused than I was."

Susan snorted at that. "That's amazing. But really, Tonks—where are the secret spots?"

Tonks tapped her finger to her temple, as though she were sharing top-secret information. "Ah, now that's the million-galleon question. I can't just give them away, now can I? The Hogwarts map of hidden places is something you gotta earn, Susan."

Susan raised an eyebrow. "So, like, a challenge? A test of bravery?"

Tonks threw her hands up, grinning like she'd just gotten away with a prank. "Exactly. You've got to be sneaky, clever, and maybe a little bit daring. But don't worry—I'll help you find your way. I mean, I may or may not have been known to get... lost a few times." She winked, looking too pleased with herself.

"Well, I think I can manage that," Susan said, her tone light and full of confidence. "Just as long as I don't get caught by that crazy cat."

"Oh, don't worry," Tonks assured her. "We'll avoid Mrs. Norris. If not, well, I'll just have to pretend I don't know you. It's a great excuse when Filch starts asking questions."

And just like that, the night went on, with Susan and Tonks planning their grand adventure with all the seriousness of a pair of teenage spies plotting world domination—only with more laughter and considerably less threat of actual world domination.

But the adventure was coming, and it was going to be legendary—if they could only stay out of Filch's line of sight, which, let's be honest, was probably the hardest part.

—

In Harry and Sirius's room, the atmosphere was quieter, but still felt like the calm before a storm. The room had that cozy, lived-in vibe, with a massive window giving a view of the Forbidden Forest—honestly, it looked like something straight out of a horror flick. If there were any place that was definitely not on Harry's "I'm so relaxed I might nap" list, it was this forest. It practically screamed mystery, but not the good kind—more like the kind that makes you check under your bed for monsters at night.

Sirius, who had the uncanny ability to turn anything into a joke, was unpacking their stuff like a man on a mission—but still managing to make it look effortless. He moved with a mix of pure practicality (the kind of practicality that only Sirius Black could pull off) and mischievous energy. His eyes twinkled with that mix of humor and affection, the kind that Harry had come to associate with his godfather.

"You all set for tomorrow, Harry?" Sirius asked, throwing a casual glance over his shoulder. His grin was half-joking, half-worried, and 100% Sirius Black.

Harry, who had been staring out at the forest like it was about to crawl up to the window and say hello, sighed. "Yeah, I guess. It's just... everything's moving so fast. I mean, I'm excited to see Ron and Hermione, but—" He waved his hand vaguely toward the window, gesturing toward the forest. "I don't know, I just have this weird feeling about the forest. Something's off."

Sirius paused, as if considering how best to handle this. He clapped Harry on the back, a bit too hard, knocking Harry forward slightly. "Don't sweat it. Hogwarts is practically a giant dangerous playground. You get used to it, trust me." Sirius's voice softened, a flicker of something more serious—just for a second. "We've got everything under control. And as for the forest? It's just another bit of Hogwarts charm. A little danger, a little wonder, all mixed into one package. You'll be fine."

Harry didn't look convinced, but he didn't push it either. As Sirius turned back to his unpacking, Harry couldn't shake that gnawing sensation in his chest. It was like a warning bell, but it wasn't ringing out loud—it was more like a constant, low hum in his brain that had been building up all night. And now, it was buzzing like his new psionic senses had been hooked up to an alarm clock.

It was coming from the forest.

He had no idea why, but Harry knew—knew—that something was wrong. The kind of wrong that you could feel in your bones. The kind of wrong that made your gut churn like a washing machine on full spin. And in the pit of his stomach, he could feel the faint stirrings of something darker, something he'd never quite experienced before, but something that felt familiar.

He wasn't sure if it was his new powers or just instinct, but either way, Harry wasn't about to ignore it.

Sirius had just started unpacking a bag of snacks (because, of course, he was) when Harry turned to him, his voice tight. "There's something in the forest, Sirius. I need to check it out. It's probably nothing, but—"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Check it out?" He let out a short, snorting laugh. "Harry, I love you, but running off into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night is definitely not a 'check it out' situation. It's more of a 'I'm about to become the next snack for whatever magical creature lives in there' situation."

Harry's eyes met Sirius's with that determined fire. "I'm not waiting around to find out what's happening. I'll be back soon."

Before Sirius could respond, Harry, in a move that could only be described as pure Harry Potter, practically launched himself out the window. And no, it wasn't the most graceful exit, but it was certainly dramatic. And in Harry's defense, he did kind of look like an action hero—if action heroes were all about getting the jump on the danger first.

Sirius, now fully awake and officially panicking, grabbed his wand with the kind of speed that suggested he didn't need to be as fast on the draw for this particular situation. He threw a quick glance at the window Harry had jumped out of, cursing under his breath.

"Are you kidding me?" he muttered, and then, without further ado, he bolted out of the room. He was fully convinced that this was the moment he'd be the worst godfather in history. If there was one thing Sirius Black was terrible at, it was staying calm in moments like this.

Sirius sprinted through the halls, the weight of his thoughts crashing together in a jumbled mess of "I'm going to be a terrible godfather" and "Why did I have to turn into a big black dog now?" Honestly, he was also wondering if he was the only one who'd thought about how much more convenient it would be to chase after Harry as a human than as a giant, shaggy dog.

Reaching the entrance of the castle, he transformed into his Animagus form with the kind of fluidity only a trained wizard could manage—and the kind of speed that suggested his godson was way too good at getting into trouble without any help. He bounded into the night, the cool air rushing past him as he raced toward the Forbidden Forest.

Harry was out there alone.

And no matter how much danger was lurking in those woods, there was no way in hell Sirius was going to let him face it alone.

—

Harry's feet hit the ground with a crash that probably shook every spider in the Forbidden Forest. He couldn't exactly stick the landing like a graceful superhero, but he did the best he could considering he was running on adrenaline, a ton of new powers, and the sheer will to avoid getting eaten by a giant freakin' spider.

He straightened up, dusted himself off, and immediately locked eyes with Aragog. Now, Aragog wasn't your average garden-variety spider. Oh no. This was a creature so big, it could have hosted its own talk show. Seriously, the spider probably had more leg room than half the Gryffindor common room. His eyes, all eight of them, gleamed in the low moonlight like they were all plotting something sinister. Which, to be fair, they probably were.

"Who dares disturb my beauty sleep?" Aragog's voice was like the sound of two boulders being dragged across a gravel road. It wasn't exactly soothing. "Is it you, Potter?" His eyes narrowed in what could only be described as spider disdain.

"Hey, Aragog!" Harry waved, doing his best to sound chill while standing in front of a spider that could probably crush him with a single, very big leg. "It's me, Harry. You might remember me from that time I didn't end up as lunch."

Aragog's many, many eyes flickered in recognition. "Ah, yes. The one who almost met my children's stomach. I remember you, and your friend with the red hair. Ron, was it?"

Harry grimaced, trying not to relive the traumatizing memory of being nearly eaten alive by an ancient, bloodthirsty arachnid. "Right, that's us. The almost-dinner club. Great times." He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Listen, I don't want to waste your time, but there's a little problem. Your kids are starting to get a bit... rowdy. Hogwarts is getting nervous."

Aragog's mandibles clicked together in something that sounded suspiciously like a scoff. "My children are not the problem. We do not leave the forest. We do not hunt children."

"That's the thing though, Aragog," Harry said, raising an eyebrow. "You said last time that you kept them in check, but... well, you're getting older. I mean, even you've gotta admit you're not in your prime anymore." He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but hey, when you're talking to a giant spider, subtlety isn't exactly a top priority.

Aragog's eyes gleamed darkly. "I have seen many things, Potter. You should learn respect before you speak to me about my age."

Harry put his hands up in mock surrender. "Fair point. Totally fair. But look, the kids are getting out of hand, and I'm guessing you won't be able to manage them much longer. I mean, you're a giant spider and all, but you're not invincible."

Aragog's massive form seemed to ripple, and Harry could have sworn he saw the old spider look a bit... defensive. "I am not invincible, but I am still dangerous. Your foolishness may cost you, young wizard."

"Okay, okay," Harry said, knowing when to back off. "Let's skip the threats, yeah? I'm just trying to help. If we don't figure something out, it's going to get ugly, and I really don't want to be the one who has to deal with that."

Before Aragog could spit out some kind of death threat or spider-related ultimatum, the ground shook. It was like a rumble from an earthquake, only creepier because it was followed by the sound of skittering legs—lots and lots of them. Harry's eyes widened as a massive acromantula, easily the size of a car, appeared out of the shadows, its fangs dripping venom.

"Uh-oh," Harry muttered, instinctively summoning his psionic energy. "I guess we're doing this the hard way."

The acromantula lunged at him, faster than he could even blink. The air around him crackled as he raised his hand, and a bolt of raw energy shot out, hitting the spider square in the chest. The thing screeched, the sound so high-pitched that Harry's teeth vibrated. But the spider wasn't down. Oh no, it wasn't down. It twisted in midair like a giant, furry missile, claws flailing.

Harry didn't have time to catch his breath before another one came charging at him from the left. This time, he was ready. His hands sparked, and a spear of psionic energy formed, crackling with power. He swung it with precision, cutting through the charging spider's legs like they were twigs. The acromantula screeched and fell, twitching on the ground.

"I'll take this as a please leave," Harry said to no one in particular, dodging another incoming spider. He swung the spear once more, hitting a third acromantula in mid-leap. It crumpled to the ground in a heap of goo and legs.

The battle escalated quickly from there. More spiders swarmed in, surrounding him in a frenzy. Harry's body was moving on pure instinct now, his mind a blur of energy, strategy, and—let's face it—sheer terror. The forest was a whirlwind of legs, fangs, and flashing lights as Harry's psionic blasts tore through the swarm, each blast more powerful than the last.

His healing factor was kicking in, and Harry felt a strange rush every time a new spider fell. It was like the universe was giving him an energy boost with every squelch of spider guts that splattered against the forest floor.

"This is what you get for messing with me," Harry muttered, feeling more like a superhero than he ever had before. His movements were a blur—strike, dodge, blast—until, finally, the last acromantula crumpled to the ground. The battlefield was silent except for the occasional rustle of leaves.

Harry stood there, panting, covered in spider goo, trying not to think about how he might need a serious shower. "Well," he said, surveying the carnage with a smirk, "that was definitely not on my list of 'fun' activities today. But hey, Hogwarts is safe... for now."

—

Sirius Black made his entrance with all the subtlety of a rockstar bursting through the stage doors, and it was exactly the timing you'd expect from a guy who'd practically been raised on dramatic flair. He froze mid-step as his eyes locked on the gruesome scene before him. A mountain of lifeless Acromantulas sprawled across the forest floor like someone had dumped a bunch of oversized arachnid spaghetti all over the place.

"Harry..." Sirius's voice cracked, somewhere between incredulity and awe, as he scanned the battlefield. "What... what happened here?"

Harry, standing amidst the carnage like he was auditioning for the role of "grizzled action hero number one," offered a tired, battle-worn smile. "Well, I didn't sign up for this, but sometimes, you have to do what you gotta do."

Sirius looked him over like he was trying to process all of this—all of Harry, the carnage, the whole situation. His usually smooth, cocky grin faded for a moment as his eyes softened with concern. "I get it, I do. But you can't just—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a gravelly, low voice interrupted him from behind. It was like thunder rumbling through a mountain. "You. Young wizard. You have brought death to my children."

Sirius whipped around, hand instinctively going to his wand. Harry just sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Here we go."

The source of the voice—Aragog—emerged from the shadows, his massive bulk towering over them like a living skyscraper. His eight glimmering eyes glared down, still filled with an eerie mixture of wisdom and a kind of primal fury. If spiders could give someone the side-eye, Aragog was the king of it.

"I didn't want it to come to this, Aragog," Harry said, stepping forward, his voice steady despite the weird tension in the air. "Your colony was a danger to Hogwarts. I had to act."

Aragog's mandibles clicked together, a sound so deep and threatening it might have sent a lesser person straight into a panic. "Danger?" Aragog's voice rumbled like a beast who'd just woken up from a nap, and it wasn't a pleasant one. "My children are not the only danger in this forest, young wizard. But now, they are gone. What will you do now?"

Harry's gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the situation pressed down on him, heavier than it ever had before. "I... I had no choice."

Sirius gave him a glance that was equal parts pride and concern, but before he could say anything, Aragog's voice came again, even lower now. "You should finish me, as well, then. To end the Acromantula threat for good. There is no need for my suffering."

The sound of the words hung in the air, heavier than Harry's thoughts. He wasn't sure if it was pity or just plain sorrow he felt. Aragog wasn't evil, not really. He was just a creature of his nature, trying to survive in a world that had no place for him.

Harry clenched his fists, staring at the creature, the weight of the decision pressing down on him like a ton of bricks. This was the hard part.

He nodded once, then unsheathed his psionic sword, the energy blade crackling to life with a sound that might've been satisfying if he weren't about to strike down a living being—one that, despite everything, had always treated him with a kind of weird respect.

With a single, clean strike, Harry ended it. The forest fell silent.

Aragog's many eyes dimmed, and his huge body slumped to the ground like a fallen mountain. There was a quiet moment where Harry just stood there, looking down at the creature that had once nearly eaten him. He couldn't shake the hollow feeling in his chest, like he'd just closed the chapter on something bigger than himself.

Sirius didn't say anything for a long while, but when he did, it wasn't about what had just happened—it was about Harry. "You're not gonna get any applause for that, you know."

Harry gave a half-laugh, shaking his head. "I don't need applause. Just the peace of mind knowing Hogwarts isn't going to be eaten by giant spiders."

Sirius frowned at the forest floor, the wheels clearly turning. "I get it, Harry. Really. But... killing creatures isn't exactly the Dumbledore-approved way, is it?"

Harry shrugged, trying not to feel the heaviness of his actions. "I know. But sometimes, Dumbledore's rules don't cover every situation."

Sirius looked at him with a lopsided grin, like he couldn't help himself. "Not the Dumbledore's Pet anymore, huh?"

Harry grinned, feeling a spark of mischief. "Not by a long shot."

Sirius slapped Harry on the back with the force of someone who'd just won a bet they didn't even know they were making. "There it is! That's the spirit! Rebel without a cause—my kind of wizard."

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his smile. "Yeah, well, just wait until I start planning the next disaster."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, then smirked as a new, utterly Sirius-like thought crossed his mind. "Speaking of making money—"

"Money?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. If it was Sirius Black, there was no telling what kind of idea was brewing in that head of his.

Sirius winked. "Oh, yeah. Look at all these Acromantula bodies. The silk alone is worth a small fortune, and we haven't even touched on the venom. I'm talking serious Galleons. Heck, we could even sell a few of those Basilisk byproducts if we play it smart."

Harry's face lit up. "Basilisk byproducts? Now that's something I can get behind."

Sirius clapped his hands together like an overenthusiastic businessman. "We'll need to get the Goblins involved, though. They're the real experts at this kind of thing. Gringotts has connections that could make us filthy rich. Maybe we could even get some enchanted vaults to store all this stuff. You know, for safety."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Gringotts? Sounds like a plan. Let's do it."

Sirius grinned, practically glowing with excitement. "This, my boy, is how you turn a massacre into profit."

As Sirius began casting preservation charms on the Acromantula bodies (because, apparently, you had to do that when you were planning to sell creepy-crawly silk), Harry found himself thinking: Hogwarts was safer now. And they were about to get rich from a bunch of dead spiders. Not a bad night's work, all things considered.

"Let's head to Diagon Alley tomorrow," Harry said as he turned to leave, his stride a little lighter than it had been when he first arrived.

"Right behind you," Sirius replied, winking. "Just don't get too attached to the idea of being a Dumbledore's Pet again. I'm pretty sure that ship's sailed."

And with that, they headed back toward the castle, the smell of victory—and possibly money—floating on the air.

---

Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!

I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!

If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!

Click the link below to join the conversation:

https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd

Can't wait to see you there!

If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:

https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007

Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s

Thank you for your support!