A bright, airy study in Potter Cottage. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting warm patterns on the polished wooden desk. James sits, his brow furrowed in thought, quill in hand.

He dips the quill in ink and begins to write, each word carrying the weight of his emotions.

Dear Marvolo,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to request an audience with you at your earliest convenience. Harry has just dissaparated from Hogwarts, and the situation between us has become tense. It is vital for him to be with me as we navigate this difficult moment.

I believe your perspective could help bridge the gap between father and son. Harry needs guidance, and I want him to know he's not alone in this. Thank you for considering my request.

Yours sincerely,

James Potter

After reading the letter over, he seals it and sends it off with a flick of his wrist, watching as it disappears into a swirl of magic.

Across the country in a stone manor was Marvolo's study, where he sat in a comfortable chair, a book resting on his lap. The letter materializes beside him, and he picks it up, a soft smile forming as he reads.

Marvolo chuckled. "Was waiting for this." Finishing the letter, he looks out the window, considering the relationship between father and son. He rises, determination in his step as he prepares to meet with Harry.

In the elegant living room, where Harry stands, arms crossed, a mixture of defiance and uncertainty on his face. Marvolo enters, his demeanor calm and inviting "Harry, come sit with me. Your father has reached out."

Harry shifts uncomfortably but eventually moves to take a seat across from Marvolo.

*What does he want?*

Marvolo studies Harry for a moment, gauging the underlying emotions. "He wants to mend the rift between you two. He's worried about how things have escalated being under the curse."

Harry looks away, frustration evident in his posture. *He doesn't understand."

Marvolo nods, his expression understanding. "But you must know that they were not themselves."

Harry shocked his head "But there is a part of them with those thoughts. Not only did those spells control people, it brought out what they think."

"Be that amay he still his your father who loves you to pieces since you returned

arry's expression softens slightly, realizing he isn't alone in his feelings. *I just... I don't want to disappoint him. But it feels like I'm constantly in his shadow.*

Marvolo leans forward, his voice steady and encouraging. "Harry, it's important to find your own voice, but it's equally vital to communicate that to your father. He cares about you deeply; sometimes, that love can feel overwhelming. Have you told him how you feel?"

Harry shakes his head, looking down. "No, I haven't. I just... I don't know how to explain it.*

Marvolo offers a gentle smile. "Then let's start with that. You can speak from the heart. When you meet with him, tell him what you need, what you want for yourself. It may not be easy, but it's the first step toward understanding each other.*

Harry looks up, contemplating Marvolo's words. A flicker of hope ignites in his eyes. "You really think he'll listen?"

Marvolo's smile widens. "I have faith in both of you. Especially you, Harry, you showed me that love can be a powerful force, even when it's complicated. Just remember, communication is key.

Harry nods slowly, feeling a mix of determination and anxiety, but also a sense of relief. With Marvolo's guidance, he begins to see a path forward.

*

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a fire crackling in the hearth. The shadows of old stone walls stretched long, and the air was thick with the smell of ancient books and must. Harry sat in a worn armchair, his elbows resting on his knees, staring into the flames. His thoughts were a tangled mess, still weighed down by the weeks of uncertainty and grief that had clouded his mind. His reflection in the fire seemed distant, a version of himself that barely seemed familiar.

Salazar's presence was subtle, a quiet hum at the edges of his consciousness. The old wizard in his painting had been there for days now, always near, always watching. Harry wasn't sure when it started, but slowly, Salazar's guidance had begun to shift something in him.

"You've been lost," Salazar's voice echoed softly in his mind. "But we all have our moments of darkness. It's not the fall that defines us, Harry. It's rising."

Harry looked up, his eyes red from lack of sleep. He hadn't realized how much time had passed since their first conversation. Each day, Salazar and Marvolo had quietly pushed him, offered words of wisdom, or simply sat in silence beside him as he struggled to find his way back to who he used to be.

Today was different. Today, Harry felt a spark inside of him—a flicker of something familiar, something strong. The weight on his chest had lightened, and the suffocating grief that had kept him in a daze was starting to ebb. His thoughts weren't as clouded anymore.

He stood, pacing slowly as he did when he needed to think. The fire crackled behind him, the only sound in the room. Harry could almost hear Salazar's laughter, the old Slytherin's voice blending with Marvolo's, both offering him wisdom he hadn't realized he needed. Slowly, the words began to make sense. He remembered things. Things about himself.

"You're getting there," Salazar's voice said again, clearer this time, as though it were coming from just behind him. "You've always been strong, Harry. Stronger than you know."

Harry stopped pacing and glanced down at the small picture frame on the table beside him. It was the portrait of Marvolo and Salazar, their faces serious but proud. The image had been a comfort to him, somehow. A reminder that he wasn't alone in this. That even in his darkest moments, someone had been there to guide him.

"How did you do it?" Harry muttered aloud, more to himself than to Marvolo. "How did you keep going, when everything seemed to be against you?"

The silence stretched, but this time it wasn't oppressive. It felt like an answer was on the edge of his consciousness, waiting to be acknowledged. He felt, deep within, that Marvolo was still watching, still guiding him, but no longer hovering with the same weight.

"I didn't," Marvolo finally answered, a quiet laugh threading through his words. "I went insane till you came along. I didn't keep going alone. And neither do you."

Harry shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. He wasn't sure why it had taken him so long to see it, but he knew now. It wasn't about pushing through the darkness on his own. It was about accepting that sometimes, you needed help. Sometimes, you needed someone to remind you of the strength you had inside, even when you couldn't see it yourself.

As Harry stared into the fire once more, he felt something shift inside him. He was returning to who he was—slowly, carefully. But there were still parts of him that remained locked away, pieces of his past that he wasn't yet ready to confront. His family. The pain that lingered in those memories. He wasn't ready to talk about them. Not yet.

But he didn't have to. Not today.

For the first time in weeks, Harry felt a sense of peace settle over him. His mind was clearer, his heart a little lighter. He wasn't fixed. He didn't have all the answers. But he was finding his way back, one step at a time.

And that, for now, was enough.

**

It was mid-June, the air warm with the promise of summer, but Harry didn't feel it. The heat wasn't the problem; it was the weight of his own thoughts that made him feel suffocated. He sat in the corner of the Potions lab, his hands steady as he carefully mixed ingredients, absorbed in the task at hand. The flickering light of the lamps above created dancing shadows on the walls, the faint smell of herbs and potion fumes filling the air. It was a routine, one of the few things that gave Harry comfort these days.

But today, the calm would be interrupted.

The door creaked open behind him, and Harry didn't have to look to know who was standing there. Marvolo's presence was unmistakable, like a shadow hovering just at the edge of his perception. But Harry didn't react, his gaze still fixed on the bubbling cauldron in front of him. It was easier this way, easier to focus on the work rather than face the inevitable.

"Harry," Marvolo's voice was soft, but it held a command that Harry couldn't ignore. "You should prepare yourself."

Before Harry could ask what he meant, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him—four sets of them. He turned, and there they were: James, Sirius, Remus, and Severus. Each face was tense, serious, but it was the way they looked at him that struck Harry the most—like they were bracing for something.

He didn't need to be told what was coming.

"Harry," James started, his voice low and heavy with regret. "We need to talk."

Harry's heart sank. He had been avoiding this moment for months, avoiding them all, and now there was no escaping it.

"I don't need to talk to you," Harry replied flatly, his voice tight. He turned his back to them, hands still working with the potion in front of him. It was the only thing he could control right now, the only thing that kept him from falling apart.

But James wasn't going to let him hide this time. "Harry," he said, his voice firm but laced with an unmistakable guilt, "stop."

Harry's body tensed, a chill running down his spine as he felt his father's presence behind him. The room was thick with the weight of unspoken words, with everything that had been left unsaid since February. Harry wanted to run, to escape the confrontation that had been long overdue. But he couldn't. Not now.

"I've been an idiot, Harry," James continued, his voice cracking slightly. "A colossal idiot." The words hung in the air, thick with the sorrow and regret that had been simmering beneath his surface for months. "I was angry, and I let that anger get in the way of what mattered most. I hurt you. And I am so, so sorry."

Harry froze. The cauldron in front of him bubbled unchecked, but he didn't care. The world had narrowed to just him and James, the words sinking into him like a stone in still water. He hadn't been expecting this. Not from his father, not after everything that had happened.

Slowly, Harry turned to face James, his face unreadable, but his eyes betrayed him. The hurt was still there, a jagged wound that he had been hiding for months, trying to push it down, to ignore it. But now, with James' apology hanging in the air, it was all too much.

"You—" Harry's voice broke before he could continue, the lump in his throat thickening. "You didn't listen. You didn't even try to understand."

"I know," James said quietly. "And I was wrong. I didn't listen. I didn't try to see things from your side. I thought I knew better, but I didn't." His voice cracked, and Harry could see the tears welling in his father's eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry. I was so scared of losing you, I didn't see how much I was pushing you away."

The air seemed to shift around them, heavy with emotion. Harry felt his resolve begin to crack, the walls he'd so carefully built up around himself crumbling. It wasn't just the apology, it was everything that had happened since February, the words they hadn't spoken, the things that had been left unsaid. The misunderstandings. The anger. The hurt.

"I..." Harry swallowed hard, fighting against the tears threatening to spill. "I've been so angry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if I could forgive you."

James took a tentative step forward, his eyes full of remorse. "I don't expect you to forgive me right away," he said gently. "But I need you to know that I'm here. I'm here for you, Harry. And I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

Harry stared at him for a long moment, his chest tight, every emotion he'd been holding inside crashing down on him all at once. His body trembled with the effort to keep it all in.

And then, as though something inside him finally gave way, Harry collapsed into his father's arms, his tears coming in a rush. All the pain, all the anger, all the fear he had held in for so long came pouring out. He clung to James as if he were a lifeline, as if this moment, this release, could somehow begin to heal what had been broken.

James held him tight, murmuring words of comfort, even though they could never erase the past. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "I'll make it better. I promise."

Harry let out a shuddering breath, his tears soaking into James' robes. The pain didn't disappear, not completely. But in this moment, in the warmth of his father's embrace, something shifted. The healing had begun, slowly, tentatively, but it was real.

And for the first time in months, Harry allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could get better.

***

A week had passed since James and Harry had worked through their differences. After some honest conversations, apologies, and a bit of time, things had finally settled. To celebrate, James had suggested something bold: a two-week vacation to the Americas, with one condition: no magic. It was meant to be a bonding experience, an opportunity to leave behind their usual magical world and try something new—something different.

Harry was all in. The idea of stepping outside his usual routine and living on the edge without relying on magic was exciting. But Evangeline?

Well, it wasn't her idea of fun.

The first few days were rough. The moment they landed in South America, Evangeline's discomfort became clear. The trip was full of hikes through dense jungles, long drives on rugged, winding roads, and long days spent away from the luxuries and comforts she was accustomed to. No magical enhancements. No house-elves to attend to her every need.

She tried to keep her frustrations hidden, but Harry could tell something was off.

He, on the other hand, was loving every minute of it. He went bungee jumping off cliffs, raced across the skies in a hang-glider, and hiked through some of the most beautiful landscapes he'd ever seen. Each day was an adventure, and he reveled in the adrenaline. He'd never felt so alive.

Meanwhile, Evangeline was slowly becoming more irritable with each passing day. The lack of magic made everything feel... mundane. She hated feeling out of control, hated that she couldn't just flick her wand to clean her clothes or make the days easier. She wasn't used to roughing it, and it showed.

After one particularly grueling hike through a dense rainforest, Harry could tell she was ready to snap. As they trudged back to their cabin, Evangeline scowled and muttered something about wasting time.

"You know, you don't have to come along on all these things," Harry said, trying to keep his voice light. "You could stay back at the cabin, relax a bit—maybe enjoy some downtime?"

Evangeline shot him a sharp glance. "I'm not a child, Harry. I don't need to be coddled just because I don't want to be miserable."

"Okay, but—"

"Don't," she cut him off, her tone harsh. "You know this whole no magic thing isn't my idea of a good time. I feel... useless here."

Harry frowned, not sure how to make things right. "I thought you'd enjoy it more. I really did."

"I'm not like you, Harry. I don't thrive in a world without magic. I feel stuck here. And now you're dragging me along, making me feel like some burden."

He wanted to argue, to remind her that she hadn't been forced into anything, but he knew it wasn't the right time. Instead, he just sighed. "I'm sorry, Evangeline. I thought this would be a good change, but I get it. You're not happy."

She didn't reply, just stormed ahead, leaving Harry to follow quietly behind. By the end of the trip, the rift between them had only widened.

When they finally returned to England, Harry felt the rush of excitement to see his friends again. He hadn't seen Draco and Theo in what felt like forever, and he was eager to catch up. Evangeline, however, was not in the mood for anyone.

As they stepped off the plane, Evangeline's cold demeanor was hard to ignore. She said nothing as they gathered their things, barely making eye contact with Harry. The tension was thick, and Harry could feel it hanging in the air.

"I'm going to see Draco and Theo," Harry said, offering a tentative smile to Evangeline. "I'll be back later, yeah? You know, to talk things through." He was hopeful, but he didn't really know if she was in the mood to listen.

Evangeline didn't even look up as she shrugged. "Sure, go ahead. Have your fun with them." Her voice was bitter, and Harry immediately sensed the depth of her frustration.

He hesitated, guilt gnawing at him. "Ev, I—"

"You don't need to explain yourself," she snapped, cutting him off. Her eyes were icy. "I'm fine, really. You're just so busy with your little adventures and your friends that you don't even see how miserable I've been. I hated the entire trip, and I'm still stuck here—alone. And you? You couldn't care less."

"Evangeline, that's not fair," Harry said, his voice soft but firm. "I didn't want you to feel miserable. I thought—"

"Well, clearly you thought wrong," she interrupted sharply, her arms crossing over her chest in a defensive posture. "You dragged me into your little world of no magic, and now you're off to be with them like nothing happened. Don't even pretend you care about me right now."

Harry's chest tightened, and though he wanted to say something, he knew she wasn't ready to hear it. Not yet. So, with a final glance at her, he turned and walked toward the door, his mind clouded with frustration.

He had hoped for things to improve after the trip, but it was clear they still had a lot to work through. The silence between him and Evangeline spoke volumes, but he also knew it was something they'd need to figure out on their own.

As James told Harry a curfew before he left, his heart heavy, he couldn't shake the feeling that this trip had done more harm than good. But he wasn't giving up. Not on her. Not on them.

****

The flickering candles in the study room cast long shadows on the walls, their soft light illuminating the stacks of parchment, books, and magical tools spread across the large wooden table. The air was thick with the scent of ink and old paper, mixed with the faint aroma of brewing tea from a pot sitting in the corner. Draco, Theo, and Harry sat hunched over their work, their eyes fixed on the pages in front of them. Each of them was deeply focused, their minds fully immersed in the study of charms.

It was early August, just a few days before the Mastery Exam in Charms, and they were all determined to be ready. This exam was a critical one for Harry; after years of mastering various magical disciplines, he was now set to update his Charms Mastery, a highly prestigious and demanding qualification. Unlike the earlier stages of his magical education, where he had learned many foundational spells, this was a chance to hone and perfect his skills—something Harry had been working toward for months.

Draco flicked his wand absentmindedly as he reviewed a complex charm on his parchment. "I swear, this spell is more difficult than they make it sound," he muttered, running his fingers through his platinum blonde hair in frustration. "How can something this simple look so complicated?"

Harry glanced up from his notes, offering Draco a reassuring smile. "It's all about precision. You have to focus on the intention behind the spell, not just the motion. The subtlety is what makes the difference."

Theo, who had been quietly reviewing a particularly tricky section on advanced transfiguration, gave a low chuckle. "Easy for you to say, Harry. You've been studying Charms since you were barely old enough to hold a wand."

Harry smirked, leaning back slightly in his chair. "True," he said with a shrug, "but that doesn't mean the mastery exam is going to be a walk in the park. You both have the potential to ace this; it's all about practice and refining the techniques."

Theo raised an eyebrow. "Refining? That's an understatement. I've been practicing this one charm for days, and it still isn't up to standard." He waved his wand in frustration, making a small spark appear in the air. "I can't get it right."

Draco turned to look at Theo, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's not the charm that's the problem. You're overthinking it. Just focus on the essence of the spell and let it flow. Like Harry said, intention matters more than execution at first."

Harry nodded in agreement. "You have to let go of the pressure. Don't expect perfection right away. Charm work is a gradual process. Trust yourself."

Theo looked between them and then sighed. "Alright, alright. But if I fail the exam, I'm blaming you two."

Harry laughed softly, shaking his head. "No one's failing anything. We've all been working too hard for that. We've got this."

The three of them went back to their work, the room filled with the rhythmic sounds of their quiet concentration. Harry's mind was sharp, his hands steady as he practiced casting the complex charms. The intricacies of each spell were becoming clearer to him, the slight movements of his wand growing more fluid. He could feel the magic aligning in his veins, as if his body was beginning to anticipate each incantation before he even finished saying the words.

As they worked, Harry thought back to when he first began learning Charms. It had felt like a vast and impossible landscape back then, filled with complexities he couldn't yet grasp. But now, with the Mastery exam on the horizon, he realized how far he'd come. This wasn't just a test of his magical knowledge—it was a test of how much he had grown as a wizard.

Theo glanced over at Harry, a small grin on his face. "You're looking more confident these days, HArry. It's good to see."

Draco, who had been silently watching Harry's movements, smirked. "Don't let him fool you, Theo. He's probably already memorized every spell and counter spell they'll throw at him."

Harry shrugged, unable to hide his own grin. "I'm not that prepared... yet. But I'm getting there."

The tension in the room eased as they continued their practice, each of them steadily improving with each passing hour. They had all been through different challenges on their way to this point, but now, as they faced the final push before the exam, it was clear that they were ready. Ready to face the test and, more importantly, ready to face the future.

*****

The warm July evening air was filled with the sounds of laughter and soft music as the guests trickled into the large backyard of the Potter family home. Twinkling fairy lights hung from the trees, and colorful lanterns dotted the space. The scent of grilled food and sweet desserts wafted through the air, adding to the festive atmosphere. But despite the joy, there was a nervous excitement buzzing in the house. This was no ordinary birthday celebration—it was a surprise, and no one knew that better than James, Sirius, and Remus.

Harry and Evangeline were blissfully unaware of the party being planned in their honor. They had spent the afternoon together, lounging around and enjoying a quiet day, not expecting much more than some family time. Harry was already feeling lucky to have his family around, but little did he know, James had something more exciting in store.

When Harry and Evangeline walked into the backyard, the first thing they saw was a burst of cheers. "Surprise!" everyone yelled, and Harry blinked in stunned confusion.

"What—?!" Harry's face lit up in a huge grin as he looked around the backyard, recognizing familiar faces. Ron and Hermione were there first, standing by the punch bowl, grinning widely towards Evangeline. The twins were practically bouncing with energy, their usual pranks nowhere to be seen in favor of excitement for the occasion. But the surprises didn't stop there. Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, Slytherins, and Gryffindors alike were scattered throughout the garden, and Harry felt his heart swell with warmth. Draco and Theo are both there too. His friends and classmates, everyone he'd grown close to during the year at Hogwarts, were all gathered in one place, celebrating.

"Wow, this is... amazing," Harry said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked over at James, who was beaming proudly.

"We knew you'd love it," James said, clapping him on the back. "A birthday with all your friends, Harry. We figured you'd appreciate that more than some grand, formal affair."

Harry couldn't help but agree. He'd had more than enough of those growing up, the stuffy, extravagant events with too many adults and too many expectations. This felt real—fun, relaxed, and full of people he genuinely cared about.

But across the yard, Evangeline stood slightly apart from the crowd. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she took in the sight. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the effort; it was just... this wasn't what she had expected. She had imagined a party on a grand scale, perhaps with more elegant decorations, a lavish feast, and guests from high society mingling with her usual circle of friends. But here, the gathering was simple. Casual. Comfortable. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't quite as "grand" as she'd hoped for or used to.

Her gaze shifted to the familiar faces of Ron, Hermione, and the Weasley twins, and though she smiled, it was a little more forced than Harry's.

"You okay?" Harry asked her quietly, noticing her slightly withdrawn posture.

Evangeline hesitated before nodding, trying to hide the fact that she was disappointed. "It's not exactly what I envisioned," she admitted, her voice barely audible over the laughter of the guests.

Harry raised an eyebrow, recognizing the slight pout that tugged at her lips. "I get it. You were probably expecting something fancier. But, you know... this is nice. It's fun," he said, glancing around at all the people enjoying themselves. "It's a celebration for us. I think it's perfect."

Evangeline gave a reluctant smile, though she still looked a little out of place. "I suppose... It's just, well, Harry, you have so many people here, and I—"

"Hey," Harry cut her off, nudging her with his elbow. "This is about you too, you know? We're both sharing the spotlight, even if I do have more friends to invite," he added, winking at her playfully. "We'll just make it our own way, right?"

She let out a soft laugh, giving in to the warmth of the moment, and then nodded. "Right. It's... nice."

The sound of a loud crack interrupted them, and Harry turned just in time to see Sirius, Remus, and James excitedly clapping each other on the back. "What's this?" Harry asked, laughing as he spotted them grinning ear to ear.

"We may not have planned the grandest of celebrations," Sirius started, his voice mockingly dramatic, "but we've got the best cake in the whole of the wizarding world!"

"Come on!" Remus added, holding up a large, multi-layered cake adorned with sparkling candles. "Make a wish, you two. Let's make this the best birthday yet!"

The two of them stepped forward, their eyes meeting as they prepared to blow out the candles. Harry, feeling the joy of his friends and family all around him, closed his eyes and made his wish.

Evangeline, still standing a little further off, watched as Harry laughed and surrounded himself with people from all walks of life—those he'd shared dorm rooms with, those he'd fought alongside, those who had been there through thick and thin. For once, she felt like a little piece of her world was colliding with his, a world that was so different from her own. And maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of birthday she needed to truly appreciate. Simple, yet filled with the warmth of genuine friendships.

As they blew out the candles, the crowd cheered, and Harry threw an arm around Evangeline's shoulder.

"Happy birthday, Ev," he said with a smile. "This is our day, together. No magic needed."

Evangeline smiled at him, the weight of her earlier expectations melting away as she let herself truly enjoy the moment. "Happy birthday, Harry," she replied, her voice warm. "And... thanks. This is actually pretty great."

And as the party continued, laughter filling the air and the stars overhead beginning to twinkle brighter, Harry realized—this was everything he needed. A celebration surrounded by those he cared for most.

******

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the Potter family home, casting warm light across the room. Harry sat at the kitchen table, absently stirring his tea as he glanced down at the stack of letters in front of him. The owls had arrived early, delivering the usual correspondence, including a letter from Hogwarts. However, one letter caught his attention—it was from Dumbledore.

Before he could open it, James entered the kitchen, his face serious. "Harry, we need to talk," he said, his voice tense.

Harry looked up, frowning. "What's wrong, Dad?"

James held up the letter from Dumbledore. "It seems Dumbledore has made a decision... and it's not one I'm happy about."

Harry raised an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean?"

James handed him the letter, and Harry took it with a sense of dread. As he read, his heart began to sink.

Dear Mr. Potter,
I hope this letter finds you well. I regret to inform you that, given your absence from the required exams last year, it has been deemed necessary for you to repeat your second year at Hogwarts. As you are well aware, the school's regulations must be followed, and as a result, you will not be able to proceed to your third year without completing these assessments. Additionally, I must address an important matter regarding the succession of the Potter family title.

As per the tradition outlined in the Potter family charter, it is customary for the heir to be selected based on academic achievements and magical competence. Given the circumstances of your exam results, I must inform you that Miss Evangeline will be considered the rightful heir to the Potter family title. The necessary procedures will be followed in due time, and I trust you will understand the importance of this decision.

I remain at your service for any further discussions,
Albus Dumbledore

Harry's face drained of color as he finished reading, his hands gripping the letter tightly. He felt a rush of anger rising in his chest, but before he could speak, James let out a long sigh, his expression hardening.

"This is outrageous," Harry muttered, slamming the letter down onto the table. "He's holding me back because I didn't take those exams? He's using that to take my title—my inheritance—and give it to Evangeline?"

James nodded gravely. "Dumbledore thinks he can use the situation with your exams to force the title onto Evangeline. He's trying to manipulate the Potter family's succession in his favor."

"But that's not how it works!" Harry snapped. "The Potter charter is clear. The title doesn't pass through some arbitrary decision based on exams. It's about the magic, the blood, and the family's legacy!"

James placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, his voice steady. "That's right. The Potter family magic determines who is worthy to inherit. Not Dumbledore. Not anyone else."

Before Harry could say anything further, there was a loud crack as Remus and Sirius appeared in the room. Both of them were immediately aware of the tension. Sirius raised an eyebrow as he noticed the letter.

"I'm guessing it's not good news?" he asked.

Harry thrust the letter toward him. "Dumbledore's trying to pull this stunt—hold me back from Hogwarts, make Evangeline the heir. Just because I didn't sit the exams."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "That's a dirty trick. He knows you're the heir, Harry. No one can override the magic of the Potter line, not even him."

"Exactly," James said, his voice firm. "The charter states that the heir is determined by Potter family magic, and that's not something Dumbledore can simply change with a letter. No matter what he tries, the magic will not be fooled."

Remus stepped forward, a thoughtful expression on his face. "James is right. It's been like that for centuries. No matter what Hogwarts or anyone else says, you, Harry, are the Potter heir by blood and magic."

Harry clenched his fists, a surge of determination running through him. "Then we need to show him. I'm not letting Dumbledore get away with this."

James smiled proudly at his son, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "That's the spirit. We'll take this up with the Ministry. You've already taken your exams there, and it's your right to continue your education at Hogwarts, no matter what Dumbledore thinks."

"I'll make sure the Ministry is involved," Remus added. "We'll remind them of the Potter family charter and your rights, Harry. Dumbledore will have to answer for his actions."

Sirius grinned. "If he thinks he can pull something like this without consequences, he's got another thing coming."

Harry stood up, feeling the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. "Let's do it. I won't let him take my title, and I won't let him control my life. I've worked too hard for this."

James clapped Harry on the back. "That's my boy. You're the rightful heir, Harry. And we'll make sure everyone knows it."

Together, the group of them—James, Sirius, Remus, and Harry—set to work. They would gather the necessary documentation, present Harry's legitimate exams from the Ministry, and ensure that Dumbledore's power grab would not succeed.

Later that day, Harry sent a letter of his own to Dumbledore, clearly and firmly stating his position. He would be returning to Hogwarts. As for the title of heir to the Potter family, that was sealed in the magic that ran through his veins. No one could take that from him.

And if Dumbledore tried? Well, Harry would make sure the Headmaster knew exactly who was in control of his destiny.

*******

One more update will occur which will have a summary wrapping up The Lost. I know it's not what was planned originally, however the momentum has come to a stop and we are wanting to work on other works we have planned.

I hope you enjoyed this so far! Thank you for sticking with it!