Young Celestial Wizard [Celestial Grimoire, Harry Potter]

The portkey deposited them in the middle of the Great Hall with a sudden lurch. Harry kept his balance easily, still holding the unconscious Rakepick over his shoulder. The hall was completely empty, lit only by yellowed candles that hovered under the charmed night sky.

"Well, that was anticlimactic," Merula muttered, looking around the deserted hall. "I half expected Headmaster Dumbledore to be waiting for us with hot chocolate or something."

Bill raised a valid point. "Should we take Rakepick to Dumbledore's office? Or get one of the other teachers here?"

"Dumbledore's office," Harry decided. "He needs to know what happened immediately."

They made their way through the empty corridors. Harry found himself thinking more about Jacob's behavior in the vault. The man had been trapped in a portrait for years, completely aware and unable to do anything.

That would drive most, if not all, people insane!

Instead of being grateful to see his sister, or wanting to reconnect with his family, Jacob had immediately focused on the treasure again. And that reminded Harry of how some animals became obsessed with certain behaviors. He'd seen birds that would peck at the same spot for hours, or experiments eccentric wizards performed on mice that would run the same maze paths even when the walls were removed.

The Cursed Vaults had become Jacob's maze, and he couldn't stop running it even when he was free.

Was that what R wanted? To create people so obsessed with the elusive treasure that they'd do anything to get it? It would explain why they threatened families and used fear to control people.

Make someone desperate enough, and they'd become single-minded in their pursuit.

Harry shifted Rakepick's weight on his shoulder. She'd fallen into the same trap, going rogue from R but still chasing the same goal.

Maybe it was just the mystery itself that drove people mad. The not knowing. The constant wondering about what could be so important that an entire organization would spend so many years pursuing it...

They reached the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

"Fizzing Whizzbee," Harry said, and the gargoyle jumped aside.

His ears twitched slightly. Dumbledore wasn't alone.

"Come in," Grandpa called before they could knock.

Harry pushed open the door to find the old wizard sitting behind his desk with Aunt Min and Snape standing nearby. All three looked concerned.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes immediately going to the unconscious Rakepick. "I see you've had an eventful evening."

Harry coldly dropped Rakepick onto the floor. "She tried to kill us all. Used us as dragon bait, then hit me with the Killing Curse when we got the vault open."

Aunt Min gasped. "The Killing Curse? Harry, are you-"

"I'm fine, Aunt Min," Harry said quickly, seeing the panic in her eyes. "The Killing Curse didn't work on me."

McGonagall rushed over to him anyway, her hands fluttering as she checked him for injuries. "Didn't work? Harry, that's impossible! The Killing Curse always-"

"Well, apparently not always," Harry interrupted gently. He could feel her genuine terror through his fear detection, waves of panic coming from her soul as she imagined losing him.

It was actually kind of touching, even if it was getting a bit overwhelming.

What surprised him more was the spike of fear he sensed from Snape. The Potions Master was standing utterly still with his face as cold and impassive as ever, but Harry's soul-senses picked up the sharp jolt of terror that had shot through the man when Harry mentioned the Killing Curse.

Harry looked at Snape oddly. On the surface, the professor seemed completely unbothered, maybe even slightly annoyed at being woken up for this.

But underneath that mask, Harry could feel genuine fear for his safety.

Snape was afraid for him? How odd...

"Minerva," Dumbledore said calmly, "Harry is quite well, as you can see. We should focus on what happened rather than what might have happened."

But McGonagall wasn't having any of it. She continued fussing over Harry, checking his pulse, looking into his eyes, running her wand over him to detect any lingering curse effects. "The Killing Curse leaves no mark, but there could be residual magic, or maybe she used a different curse that only looked like-"

"Aunt Min," Harry said helplessly, looking toward Dumbledore, who he KNEW would remember his offer that made him nearly immune to this kind of soul magic, for rescue. But the old wizard just sat behind his desk with that twinkle in his eyes, clearly finding the whole situation amusing rather than urgent.

Great. No help there.

"I'm really okay," Harry tried again. "It seems like I'm not called the Boy-Who-Lived for nothing, right? The Killing Curse just... doesn't work on me."

That finally made McGonagall pause in her agitated examination. "Doesn't work on you?"

"Apparently not," Harry shrugged. "Rakepick seemed pretty shocked about it too."

Snape coughed lightly. "We should verify what spells were actually cast." He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Rakepick's dropped wand, which was lying on the floor next to her body.

"Prior Incantato."

The wand floated into the air and performed the wand motion for the Cruciatus curse, and straight after that the ghostly green light of the Killing Curse lit up Rakepick's wand tip. Then came the cutting curses and a nasty blood-boiling curse.

McGonagall went pale. "Merlin's beard. She really did try to murder you."

Snape's expression darkened as he looked at the unconscious professor. "Two Unforgivables and many Dark curses fired off so quickly. She wasn't planning to leave any witnesses."

Harry smiled. There was no way Rakepick could claim this was some kind of misunderstanding or accident. She'd tried to kill all of them, and now everyone could see the proof.

"What exactly happened down there?" Dumbledore asked seriously.

Over the next ten minutes, they explained everything. Charlotte described how they'd found the portkey and entered the vault together. Bill talked about Rakepick's sudden betrayal and how she'd tried to use them as bait. Merula mentioned the Cruciatus Curse that had been aimed at her and how Harry had taken it himself.

Naturally, that prompted another round of worrying from Aunt Min…

Harry explained how he'd survived the Killing Curse and disabled Rakepick, though he kept the details about his Inner Eye and pressure point techniques vague. He also described Jacob's rescue and his immediate departure to hunt down R.

"Jacob left already?" McGonagall asked, glancing at Charlotte with concern.

Charlotte's voice was quiet. "He said he had to track down R before they could get to the final vault."

"And this was found in the vault?" Dumbledore asked, holding up the Merperson Trident that Charlotte had placed on his desk.

After a few minutes of testing, he shook his head. "There's nothing dangerous or unusual about this trident. It's likely just a clue to the location of the final vault."

He handed the trident back to Charlotte. "You should keep this, my dear."

Charlotte accepted it with a small nod.

Harry had been planning to ask Dumbledore about some of the things that had been bothering him lately. Did he know Legilimency? What did he know about the Cursed Vaults if he suspected Legilimency was required? Why did Charlotte show signs of Legilimency before being trained in its use?

But when he glanced at Charlotte and saw how she was biting her lip to keep from crying, he decided those questions could wait.

She needed support right now, and that was more important than his curiosity.

"Grandpa," Harry said, "I'll provide you with a memory of everything that happened later, if that's alright? I need to take care of something first."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled slightly as he looked between Harry and Charlotte. "Of course, my boy. Tomorrow morning will be perfectly fine."

McGonagall stood up from her chair. "I should go wake Poppy and let her know that Beatrice might be free from her portrait by now. The poor girl will need medical attention after being trapped for so long."

"An excellent idea, Minerva," Dumbledore agreed.

Snape glanced at the headmaster. "I'll check on Miss Haywood's condition and report back."

"Thank you, Severus."

McGonagall gave Harry one more worried look before heading toward the door. "Are you certain you're feeling alright, Harry? No dizziness, nausea, or strange sensations?"

"I'm fine, Aunt Min. Really."

She nodded reluctantly and left with Snape.

Dumbledore stood up and walked over to where Rakepick was still unconscious on the floor. He waved his wand, and thick bonds tightened around her arms and legs. Then he levitated her body into a conjured chair.

"She won't be going anywhere," he said.

Harry nodded. "Good. She deserves whatever punishment she gets."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "Attempted murder of students is not something the Ministry takes lightly, even for someone with her reputation."

The four of them left Dumbledore's office together.

The corridors were still empty and quiet, lit only by the occasional torch or floating candle.

"Well," Bill said as they walked, "that was definitely the most exciting vault adventure we've had. And probably the most dangerous."

"Speak for yourself," Merula muttered. "I didn't sign up to be dragon bait."

"None of us did," Charlotte said softly.

When they reached the point where the corridors split toward their different dormitories, Bill stretched and yawned. "I'm going to get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be interesting when word gets out about what happened."

"The whole school will be talking about it," Merula agreed. "Especially the part where Harry survived the Killing Curse again."

Bill grinned at Harry. "You're going to be even more famous now, mate. The Boy-Who-Lived-Twice."

Harry grimaced. "Please don't give the Daily Prophet any ideas."

"Too late," Merula said with a smirk. "I can already see the headlines."

Bill chuckled and headed off toward Gryffindor Tower. Merula went in the direction of the Slytherin dungeons, leaving Harry and Charlotte standing alone in the corridor.

Charlotte started to go towards the Gryffindor Tower as well, but Harry gently caught her arm.

"Charlotte, wait."

She looked back at him with questioning eyes.

Harry could see the exhaustion there, and the barely contained sadness. Charlotte was trying to be strong, trying to act like everything was fine, but Harry wasn't fooled.

He might be immature sometimes, and he definitely didn't always think about other people's feelings the way he should. But that didn't mean he was completely blind to when someone was hurting.

And Charlotte was definitely hurting.

It was actually a bit strange looking down at her. Harry was taller than a fifth-year girl now, even though he was only almost nine years old. His accelerated growth from all the power increases was making him look more mature than someone he used to think looked a lot older than him.

But he pushed that thought aside and focused on what was important.

"How are you doing?" he asked gently. "Really, I mean. Not the brave face you're putting on for everyone else."

Charlotte's composure cracked slightly. "I'm... I'm fine, Harry. Just tired."

"Charlotte."

She looked up at him, and Harry could see the tears she was trying so hard to hold back.

"He left," she whispered. "I spent years looking for him. Years worrying about him, having nightmares about what R might be doing to him. And when I finally found him, when I finally got him back..." Her voice broke. "He couldn't wait to leave again."

Harry felt his heart clench. He'd been right about what was bothering her.

"I know he said it was to protect me," Charlotte continued shakily. "I know he thinks he's doing the right thing. But it still hurts. It hurts that the treasure was more important to him than spending time with me."

A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't be complaining. I should be happy that he's free and safe."

"No," Harry said firmly. "You have every right to be upset. What Jacob did was selfish."

Charlotte looked surprised. "Harry, you can't say that. He's trying to stop R from getting whatever they're after."

"And he could have done that tomorrow," Harry replied. "Or next week. Or after spending at least one evening with the sister who risked her life to save him."

Harry paused, thinking about how to put his feelings into words.

"Charlotte, I've been thinking about this since we left the vault. Jacob has been obsessed with these cursed vaults for years. Even being trapped in a portrait for so long didn't break that obsession. If anything, it made it worse."

He looked directly into her eyes. "You deserved better than that. You deserved a brother who would put you first, at least for one night."

Charlotte's face crumpled, and the tears she'd been holding back finally started to fall.

"I just wanted him to be happy to see me," she sobbed. "I wanted him to ask about what I've been doing, or how I've been feeling, or... or anything about me. But all he cared about was the treasure."

Harry didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle hug.

Charlotte buried her face against his shoulder and cried. All the pain and disappointment and loneliness she'd been carrying came pouring out. Harry just held her, letting her get it all out.

"It's okay," he muttered. "It's okay to be hurt. It's okay to be angry. You don't have to pretend everything is fine."

"I missed him so much," Charlotte whispered between sobs. "I thought... I thought when I found him, everything would go back to normal. We'd be a family again."

"I know," Harry said softly. "I know you did."

They stood there in the empty corridor for several minutes while Charlotte cried her heart out against Harry's shoulder. He could feel her trembling, all the stress and disappointment finally catching up with her.

Harry found himself thinking about families and what they meant to people. He'd grown up without his parents, so he'd never experienced that kind of loss. But watching Charlotte's pain made him realize how lucky he was to have Grandpa Dumbledore, Aunt Min, Uncle Filius, the Flamels and even Sirius as of late in his life.

They might not be his blood family, but they actually cared about him as a person.

Charlotte had built up this idea in her mind of what it would be like when Jacob came back. She probably imagined catching up on everything that had happened since he'd disappeared.

Instead, she got a quick hug and a disappearing act...

"I'm sorry," Charlotte whispered, pulling back slightly. "I'm getting tears all over your robes."

"I don't care about the robes," Harry said simply.

Charlotte looked at him with red, puffy eyes. Her face was blotchy from crying, and her hair was a mess from being pressed against his shoulder. But there was something in her expression that Harry couldn't quite identify. Her cheeks were getting redder, and she seemed to be staring at his face.

"Harry," she said softly, "thank you. For everything. For helping me find Jacob, for saving us from Rakepick, for... for being here when I needed someone."

Harry felt something shift in the air between them as Charlotte continued to stare up at him. Her breathing had changed, becoming softer and more uneven. The tears were still there, but something else was mixing with the sadness in her eyes.

"You don't need to thank me," Harry said quietly. "You're my friend, Charlotte. Of course I'd help you."

But even as he said it, Harry noticed that Charlotte wasn't pulling away from his embrace. Usually when someone finished crying, they'd step back and try to compose themselves.

Charlotte was doing the opposite… she seemed to be leaning closer to him.

Her hands had moved to rest against his chest, and Harry became hyper-aware of how his arms were still wrapped around her waist. He should probably let go now, shouldn't he?

The comforting hug had served its purpose.

Yet something made him hesitate.

Charlotte's face was tilted up toward his, and despite the redness from crying, Harry found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before. The way her eyelashes looked darker when they were wet with tears or how her lips were slightly parted as she looked at him.

She's really quite pretty, Harry thought distractedly. When had that happened? He'd always thought of Charlotte as... well, as Charlotte. His friend who was brave and determined and sometimes reckless.

But looking at her now, he realized she'd grown up quite a bit since they'd first met.

"Harry," Charlotte whispered, and her voice had a quality to it that Harry had never heard before.

Softer. Almost breathless.

She was still staring at his face with an intensity that made Harry feel oddly self-conscious. Her cheeks were getting redder, but it wasn't from crying anymore. And the way she was looking at him...

Harry's thoughts suddenly flashed back to the Royal Palace, to Princess Azula after she had lost their sparring session. The way she'd looked at him when she'd confessed her feelings. That same focused stare, the same slightly parted lips, the same breathless quality to her voice...

Oh.

Oh no.

That expression on Charlotte's face… it was the same one Azula had worn. The same one he'd seen on the faces of some of the girls at Hogwarts when they thought he wasn't looking.

Charlotte wasn't just grateful for his help. Nor was she just emotional from finding and losing her brother again.

She was looking at him the way girls looked at boys they had feelings for.

And he really didn't know what to do about that.

Could he tell Charlotte she couldn't feel that way about him? No... he couldn't. That would be cruel, especially after she'd just been hurt deeply by her brother's abandonment.

But he also couldn't pretend he didn't notice what was happening here.

Harry's body was going through changes, not just the magical transformations, but the normal physical development that came with looking fourteen years old. The hormones that came with that age were definitely affecting him more than he'd expected. Standing this close to Charlotte, holding her like this, seeing that look in her eyes... it was having an effect on him that he couldn't entirely ignore.

He should step back and put some distance between them before this got more complicated.

But a part of him that was becoming harder to ignore didn't want to let go.

This was confusing in ways he hadn't anticipated. When Azula had confessed her feelings, it had been straightforward. She'd been direct about what she wanted, and Harry had been able to give her an honest answer.

This situation with Charlotte felt more complicated.

He liked Azula. Azula liked him. That much was clear and simple.

But Charlotte liked him as well. And if Harry was being honest with himself, he cared about Charlotte too. Not entirely in the same way he cared about Azula, no, his feelings for Charlotte were gentler, built on friendship and shared adventures and genuine affection over time.

But they were still feelings, weren't they?

Back in the world of Snowdragon Mountain, where an alternate self of his had grown up, a man having multiple women wasn't unusual at all. His Primal Daoist father might have had just Harry's mother, but plenty of the other powerful cultivators had multiple wives or concubines.

It was actually expected for someone of significant power and status.

The stronger you were, the more responsibilities you had. And part of those responsibilities included ensuring your bloodline continued, forming political alliances through marriage, and providing for multiple families.

It wasn't seen as selfish or greedy… it was seen as natural.

A dragon didn't limit itself to one mountain, after all.

But that definitely wasn't the norm on Earth or in the Fire Nation. Here, the expectation was one partner and one commitment, because anything else was seen as betrayal.

The conflict was giving Harry a headache. Which set of values should he follow?

The ones from the world where he'd learned about the nature of power?

Or the ones from the world where he'd been born and raised?

Harry wasn't a normal individual, though. He'd become an Angel, with divine virtues of his own making condensing within his soul. He'd become a World, with entire realities existing within his being. He wasn't someone that you could fit into a normal mold or expect to follow normal rules.

Did normal relationship expectations even apply to someone like him?

From a power perspective, Harry was already far beyond what most people could achieve. His strength, his magical abilities, his divine nature… all of it put him in a category that maybe one person in a million could even comprehend.

Shouldn't someone with that kind of power and responsibility have different rules?

But then again, his virtue cultivation specifically emphasized moral behavior. Justice, Prudence, Fortitude, and whatever other virtues he'd develop in the future. Was it just to lead on two different girls? Was it morally right to consider having multiple relationships when both Charlotte and Azula probably expected exclusivity?

The angelic side of his nature approved of honesty and protecting people he cared about. But it didn't give him clear guidance on whether having feelings for multiple people was inherently wrong.

And that was entirely because Harry wasn't sure whether it was wrong or not.

He couldn't rely on his virtues to determine this for him, not when he determined what the virtues meant in the first place.

His World nature was even less helpful. The Heaven-Earth Soul that was literally his consciousness didn't operate on human relationship dynamics. It was concerned with growth, power, the creation and management of entire realities.

Romance and dating weren't exactly covered in the cosmic instruction manual.

Harry realized he'd been thinking about this for several seconds, but thanks to his unique state of being, Charlotte probably hadn't even noticed the pause. She was still looking up at him with that same expression, waiting for some kind of response to her gratitude.

The truth was, Harry didn't know what the right answer was.

He'd never been in this situation before. He'd never had to choose between people he cared about...

What he did know was that Charlotte had just been hurt by someone she loved. She'd spent years searching for her brother, only to have him abandon her again the moment he was free. The last thing she needed was another person she cared about rejecting her or making her feel like she wasn't important.

"Charlotte," Harry whispered near her ear. "I need you to know something."

She pulled back just enough to look at his face with eyes still red from crying.

"I care about you," Harry said quietly. "But I don't want to mess this up."

Charlotte's breath caught. "What do you mean?"

Harry hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I mean that you're important to me. Really important. But I'm also confused about a lot of things right now, and I don't want to make promises I can't keep."

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, the gesture feeling natural despite how nervous he was. "You deserve someone who can give you everything you need. And I'm not sure I know how to do that yet."

Charlotte's eyes searched his face. "Harry, I don't need everything figured out right now. I just need to know that you don't see me as just another friend."

"I don't," Harry said immediately. "I definitely don't."

A small smile appeared on Charlotte's face, the first genuine one he'd seen from her all evening. "Then that's enough for now."

Harry felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Charlotte rested her forehead against his neck. "I've waited years to find Jacob. I can wait a little longer to figure out what this is between us."

Harry tightened his arms around her again. "This is going to take time, Charlotte. I don't want to rush into something and end up hurting you."

"I know," she whispered. "I don't want to get hurt either. But I also don't want to pretend these feelings don't exist."

They stood there in the quiet corridor, holding each other. Harry could feel his heart beating faster than normal, and he wondered if Charlotte could feel it too through his chest.

"We should probably get some sleep," Harry said eventually, though he didn't make any move to let go of her.

"Probably," Charlotte agreed, but she didn't pull away either.

Harry smiled despite himself. "We're not very good at this, are we?"

Charlotte laughed softly, and the sound made Harry's chest feel warm. "No, we're really not."

In the end, Harry loosened his grip and stepped back slightly. Charlotte's hands lingered on his chest for a moment before she let them fall to her sides.

"Thank you," she said. "For everything tonight."

"You don't have to thank me," Harry said. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

Charlotte nodded, and Harry could see that she believed him.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Charlotte."