Chapter 36: A Nation Awakens, Hearts Entwined
### The Wizengamot Convenes
The grand chambers of the Wizengamot echoed with stern voices and shuffling parchment. Tension hung thick in the air, like a storm waiting to break. Harrison Strange Potter stood at the center, flanked by Dumbledore and Amelia Bones. The Pensieve orb played the crystal footage of Voldemort's resurrection in Little Hangleton, a silent witness to horror.
The hall was utterly silent. Harrison's voice rang clear as he stepped forward.
"This is not a claim or accusation. This is truth. Voldemort has returned. The ritual was real. The blood was taken. His soul has reformed."
Cornelius Fudge, pale and sputtering, shook his head. "Nonsense! Dark magic, illusions—this could be staged!"
"Staged?" Amelia Bones stood. "You would deny evidence, a magical recording accepted in our own laws, simply because it shakes your denial?"
A heavy voice spoke up—Madam Longbottom. "You endanger lives, Fudge. This is not mere incompetence. It is criminal negligence."
A unanimous vote followed, swift and cutting. Fudge was removed. Rufus Scrimgeour, with a somber nod to Harrison, stepped in as the interim Minister.
### Cedric and Fleur's Wedding
The ceremony took place a week later in the lush gardens of the Delacour estate in France. Enchanted blossoms floated overhead, weaving a soft perfumed breeze. Fleur looked ethereal, dressed in silver robes trimmed with sapphire lace, her Veela heritage making her glow with radiant joy. Cedric stood tall and proud, his smile unwavering as his eyes never left hers.
Harrison stood at Cedric's side as his best man, adjusting the groom's collar one last time before the ceremony.
"Ready?" he asked.
Cedric nodded, voice steady. "I am. I've never been more sure."
Fleur glided down the aisle, and Clarissa leaned into Harrison, whispering, "She looks like she was born for this."
Penelope smiled beside her, eyes misty. "She's radiant. And Cedric... he looks like a man with the world in his hands."
The vows were in French and English, intertwined like the hearts being joined. When they kissed, golden lights burst across the sky like a symphony of joy. Applause and cheers echoed, and even the sky seemed to celebrate.
At the reception, Cho stood beside Harry, catching the rhythm of the music and the laughter.
Later, as the stars danced overhead and the wedding party slowly wound down, Fleur found Harrison.
"Merci, mon frère," she said in soft French. "You helped him believe in love again. I will always be grateful."
Harrison bowed his head. "Protect each other well. Love like yours is rare."
### Confronting Bellatrix
Back at the Potter Castle that night, after most of the guests had departed, Clarissa and Penelope shared a tense glance. With a silent agreement, they approached Bellatrix in the courtyard garden.
The elder witch, barefoot in the grass and sipping from a crystal goblet, turned as they approached. Her expression shifted from relaxed to guarded.
Clarissa was the first to speak. "You love him."
Bellatrix didn't deny it. Her voice was even. "I do."
Penelope crossed her arms, tension written in every muscle. "You hurt people. You stood for ideals we've fought against. Why would you even think you belong near him?"
"Because I am trying to be better," Bellatrix replied, her voice shaking slightly. "And he sees that. He sees me. Not the madness the world remembers. Not the scars I carry. But the soul underneath."
Clarissa's red eyes narrowed. "He's already carrying so much. You add weight to his heart, not relief."
Bellatrix placed the goblet down. "And yet, when I'm near him, I am not a monster. I'm... simply a woman who is trying to be worthy of him. I have watched him lead with grace, heal with words, and wield power without arrogance. I would serve him until the stars burn out, not because he demands it—but because he is the first to ever show me mercy."
Penelope's breath caught. There was no deception in those words. Just raw, shattered sincerity.
Clarissa looked down, her voice gentler now. "If you hurt him..."
"I won't," Bellatrix whispered. "I would rather be unmade."
The three women stood in silence. Not allies. Not enemies. But coexisting in a delicate balance of love for the same man.
### Harry and Cho
The next day, Harry and Cho strolled hand in hand through Diagon Alley, enjoying the rare peace.
They laughed over sweets at Florean Fortescue's, browsed books at Flourish & Blotts, and watched young kids squeal over toy brooms at Quality Quidditch Supplies.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, they stopped atop the hill overlooking the Alley.
"It's scary, isn't it?" Cho said. "This calm. Knowing it won't last."
Harry squeezed her hand. "Yeah. But if this is the eye of the storm, I'm glad I have you in it."
She turned, cupping his face. "Then you should know something. I'm not just with you because it's safe. I'm here because I choose you. Every day."
He kissed her then, slow and sure. And for a moment, the future didn't matter.
All that did was now.