Making a Wedding Dress for Harry
The first to come to their senses was the enemy leader.
Under the orders of the Purple-Robed Leader, the remaining Dark Wizard and aerial riders, taking advantage of the thick fog and magical barriers, hastily retreated deeper into the canyon, leaving behind a scene of devastation and groans.
Kingsley did not order a pursuit. He knew that his forces were exhausted, Harry's condition was unknown, and the wounded needed medical attention. The most urgent task was to escape this dangerous place and regroup.
He quickly directed the Auror were still able to move to administer emergency treatment and Wingardium Leviosa to the seriously wounded, and swiftly collected any potentially valuable information items scattered across the battlefield—including a small Silver Mirror engraved with snakes and thorns that the Purple-Robed Leader had hastily left behind, as well as several Bone Wand Fragment made of a special material.
Harry stood up with difficulty, supported by Cassandra.
Miraculously, the energy within his body temporarily reached a delicate balance, eliminating the danger of him exploding and dying. However, the drastic changes in energy levels left him feeling extremely tired and empty, both in his soul and body. It was as if his body had been hollowed out and then forcibly stuffed with something too large, requiring time to adapt and digest.
The platinum lightning scar on the back of my hand felt slightly warm, and the faint connection between it and the ground beneath my feet was still there, but the feeling was still very unfamiliar.
"Can you walk, Harry?" Kingsley asked, approaching him with concern.
Harry nodded, his voice a little hoarse. "Okay. We have to leave immediately; it's not safe here."
He glanced at the thick fog churning deep within the canyon; the lingering dark magic there still made him a little uneasy.
Without saying a word, Kingsley quickly arranged the evacuation.
They produced the prepared Portkey and pointed it toward their initial Safe House on the Chile Coast.
After the feeling of twisting and squeezing, the chill of the rocky cave gave everyone a sense of security as if they were in another world—even though this Safe House itself was not absolutely safe.
After confirming there were no ambushes nearby, Kingsley immediately used Encrypted Channel to report the situation to Veratia in Geneva and Hermione in London.
Soon, Veratia's Patronus Phoenix and Hermione's anxious inquiries arrived almost simultaneously.
Upon learning that Harry was unharmed and had successfully destroyed the Horcrux altar, but had been ambushed and Voldemort's true form was still unknown, Vivi decisively issued an order: abandon the safe house and quickly use the backup port key network to reach 13 Grimmauld Place, London, for a thorough rest and next steps.
The Confederation will do everything in its power to eliminate any traces they may have left behind and will strengthen surveillance in the relevant areas of South America.
Next, the wounded were evacuated through the emergency medical Portkey, while the others followed and returned to the Britain.
Grimmauld Place, Number 13.
The warm fire dispelled the chill from the South America mountains, Ruby House Elf, had already prepared a steaming bowl of soup, refreshing hot tea, and clean clothes.
Hermione, Ron, Bill, Lupin, and Madam Pomfrey, who had been urgently summoned from Hogwarts, were all waiting for them.
Anne, too, returned to Grimmauld Place, Number 13.
Madam Pomfrey immediately stepped forward and used her professional skills to examine everyone's injuries, especially Harry's.
Her brow furrowed, clearly sensing the unusually complex state of Harry's magical energy.
"The Magic Circuit show signs of slight burning and expansion; the soul has been violently shaken but is surprisingly stable; and there are two—no, they now seem to have merged into a single, enormous, and peculiar foreign magic power residing within the body."
As Madam Pomfrey used her detection magic to examine him, she muttered, "Mr. Potter, I suggest you rest in bed for at least a week, along with a soul stabilizer and a high-grade magic harmonizer—"
"I'm afraid there isn't that much time, madam," Harry declined gently but firmly. "Voldemort is still carrying out his plans somewhere. I'm feeling much better, really, I just need time to adjust."
Madam Pomfrey glared at him, but seeing the determination in Harry's eyes, and the equally solemn expressions on Hermione's and Kingsley's faces, she knew that trying to dissuade him would be futile.
She sighed and took out several bottles of Potions: "Powerful Nutrient, three times a day; Soul Soothing Potion, take before bed; this blue one, take it if you feel your internal energy is restless and out of control, it can temporarily suppress it. Remember, your body is currently a magical volcano that has just experienced an earthquake, and it may erupt again at any time, so you must be careful."
Harry accepted the Potions and thanked him sincerely.
Meanwhile, Lupin and Bill had begun whispering with Kingsley and Tonks, examining the map fragments, Silver Mirror, Bone Wand Fragment, and other items they had brought back.
Hermione then pulled Cassandra and Ron aside, carefully questioning them about every detail of the battle, especially Harry's Environmental Manipulation abilities at the end.
The only sounds in the Living Room were hushed conversations, the crackling of the fireplace, and Ruby quietly setting out the plates.
After the tense atmosphere of battle subsided, a deeper sense of exhaustion and lingering fear welled up in everyone's hearts.
The names of the two severely wounded Auror were whispered: Edgar Stroud, a taciturn but experienced Scotland; and Lisa Turner, from Austria, a master of protective magic and a cheerful disposition.
"We'll make arrangements for them; at least we won't let the heroes bleed and weep," Kingsley said in a low voice. "They are heroes."
The atmosphere grew even more somber.
"Alright," Lupin broke the silence, clapping his hands. Though his face was equally weary, his voice struggled to remain steady. "Grief and exhaustion take time to process, but we can't stop. Eat something to replenish our strength, then we'll gather all the information. Harry, you must rest too, even if it's just for a few hours."
The aroma of hot soup and food finally eased my tense nerves a little. Sitting around the long table, despite my heavy thoughts, the warmth of the hot food dispelled some of the chill.
Ron wolfed down his beef pie, mumbling, "Home is best— Merlin knows how much I missed my mother's meat pies in that godforsaken place—"
Home is now truly their only safe haven amidst the storm.
After the meal, fatigue washed over me like a tidal wave.
At Anne and Madam Pomfrey's insistence, Harry was escorted back to his bedroom to rest.
Cassandra, having exhausted her magic, was moved to the next room. The others found places to rest, and the mansion finally quieted down for the time being.
Harry lay on the soft bed, trying to feel that connection with the earth again.
Concentrate your mind and clear your thoughts.
At first, there was only a blurry, distant feeling, as if looking through thick frosted glass.
But as his breathing deepened and his mind calmed, the feeling gradually became clearer—he could almost feel the faint Ley Lines slowly flowing through the London soil beneath the mansion, detect the magical traces settling in the walls and floors, and even vaguely catch Cassandra's steady, long breaths and stable Magic Fluctuation in the next room.
This perception is not omnipotent, its scope seems limited, and it is extremely mentally taxing, but it does exist.
A strange feeling welled up in Harry's heart. This ability seemed completely different from the Detection Curse commonly used by wizards. It was more primitive and direct, as if he had briefly become a part of the environment itself.
He then tried to mobilize the newly fused magic power within his body. Unlike the warm and vast power brought by the Philosopher's Stone in the past, and unlike the violent and chaotic energy of the absorbed ritual energy, the newly formed magic core exhibited a peculiar plasticity and affinity.
When he slightly moved his mind and thought of "light," a small ball of soft, white-gold light would naturally appear at his fingertips; when he thought of "solidity," the surface of the bedpost that his palm touched would gleam with a warm, jade-like pale yellow luster.
He could even feel the faint response of the free-floating magical particles in the air to his magic, though it was far less noticeable than in the unique environment of the Andes Mountains.
Clearly, he intensified it again.
Perhaps it should be said that Voldemort's hard work over the years was entirely for Harry's benefit.
"Earth Vein Affinity... Environmental Manipulation..." Harry muttered to himself, recalling Cassandra and Bill's speculations.
This sounds more like the power of Druids or nature priests from ancient legends than the magical system of modern wizards.
Voldemort's pursuit of Bound Spirit rituals seems to have inadvertently allowed him to touch the edge of a similar field in another form.
He forced himself to stop thinking, took the Soul Soothing Potion given to him by Madam Pomfrey, and under the effects of the Potions, his consciousness finally sank into the dreamless darkness.
When I woke up, the afternoon sun was shining through the window.
He slept for nearly ten hours, his longest rest since the operation began.
The fatigue in my body has lessened considerably. Although my magic core still feels full, there are no longer any signs of it getting out of control.
The heat from the scars on the back of my hand has also decreased, becoming a stable, warm temperature.
He got up, washed up, changed his clothes, and went downstairs.
The mansion returned to its usual rhythm, but the atmosphere remained serious.
Hermione and Bill were engrossed in the study, piled high with documents from Nott family, the Silver Fox Stronghold, and the new materials they had brought back; Lupin and Kingsley were whispering in a corner of the Living Room, a huge map of South America Magic Map spread out before them; Tonks was helping prepare food in the Kitchen, her hair a calm, light brown today; and Ron was in his makeshift workspace in the basement, clattering and fiddling with the new gadgets the Twins had sent him.
Cassandra sat in an armchair by the window in the Living Room, holding a thick ancient book. Sunlight shone on her long, pale golden hair, making her look as serene as an oil painting. Hearing footsteps, she looked up at Harry, her eyes questioning.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Much better." Harry walked over and sat down on the sofa next to her. "It definitely seems a bit different."
"Can it be controlled?" she asked again.
"Still getting used to it." Harry stretched out his hand, and with a slight thought, a small, gentle halo of light, constantly changing color, condensed above his palm. "It seems to influence the surrounding matter and energy fields more easily, but it requires concentration and is quite taxing."
Cassandra closed the book, carefully observing the halo. "A very peculiar magical property, possessing creativity, stability, and a certain inclusiveness. Bill and Professor Lupin consulted some extremely obscure records about ancient wizards who could communicate with the earth's ley lines, known as Earth Speaker. Their abilities were more manifested in cultivating magical plants, quelling natural disasters, and strengthening the defense of specific areas; records of them directly using it for combat control, as you have, are rare. This may be related to the coercive and predatory characteristics contained in the ritual energy you absorbed, as well as the transformative nature of the Philosopher's Stone, forming a unique variant."
"One of a kind—" Harry's expression was somewhat complicated, unsure whether it was a blessing or a curse.
"That Grindelwald woman has sent word," Cassandra changed the subject. "The Confederation's intelligence network, based on the name Storm Fortress and the terrain features on the map fragments, combined with some hidden legends of the South America Magical World, has identified several possible locations. All are located in the southern part of the Andes Mountains, bordering Argentina and Chile, an area known for frequent thunderstorms, active volcanoes, and mysterious legends. She's coordinating with the Chile and Argentine Ministry of Magic to try and obtain more detailed official geographical and magical monitoring data, but the process is not going smoothly and there's a lot of resistance."
"Voldemort's infiltration is deeper than we thought," Harry said in a deep voice.
"Yes, and also, the preliminary analysis of the Silver Mirror and the Bone Wand Fragment has yielded results." Cassandra gestured for Harry to follow her to the study.
In the study, Hermione and Bill were facing a Silver Mirror that floated in mid-air and was bathed in soft magical light.
On the back of the mirror, the relief of snakes and thorns revealed more subtle patterns under the detection magic.
"This is an advanced two-way communication and surveillance artifact," Bill explained, his dark circles under his eyes more pronounced, but his expression focused. "The manufacturing process is extremely complex, incorporating techniques from Inca and medieval Europe Dark Arts. We managed to bypass the outermost self-destruct seal and capture some remaining fragments of imagery and magical imprints."
He tapped his wand, and several blurry, shaky images were projected onto the Silver Mirror:
A precipitous mountain peak shrouded in thick thunderclouds, its summit bearing the outline of a seemingly naturally formed stone structure. Lightning bolts intermittently tore through the clouds, striking the mountain, only to be guided and absorbed by some force. In a dimly lit hall, many figures in black robes busily embedded various luminous crystals and metal components into intricate grooves in the floor. Finally, a slender figure in a dark green dress stood on what appeared to be a viewing platform, gazing at the churning thunderclouds in the distance, her black hair cascading down. Although her face was obscured, her unique physique and the suffocating aura of dark magic were unmistakably that of Merope —or rather, Voldemort in drag.
"Is this Storm Fortress?" Harry stared at the thundercloud-covered peak.
"Very likely." Hermione pointed to several areas marked in red on the map. "Based on the terrain, the magical activity records, and these images, we lean towards this location—"
At this point, her fingertip landed near a marker on the map called Tornador Peak: "Caspian Sea, extremely difficult for Muggle and ordinary wizards to approach. Historically, a few exploring wizards have reported discovering traces of enormous ancient ruins there, but they were all blocked by intense magical storms and couldn't penetrate any deeper."