Date: Sunday, January 12th, 1986
Time: 10:45 AM
Location: Private Magical Wing, Buckingham Palace, London, United Kingdom
The winter sun filtered through enchanted glass panes overhead, casting refracted beams of gentle gold across the marble floor of the Royal Magical Wing's receiving chamber. Fresh arrangements of blue-and-silver delphiniums bloomed along the high-arched windows, placed with careful attention by palace house-elves that morning in honor of the arriving delegation. A subtle warmth lingered in the room, woven by ambient enchantments to chase away the bitter London chill, ensuring no discomfort would mar the sacred purpose of the day.
At the center of the chamber stood Harry Potter, barely five years old, his posture surprisingly composed despite the grandeur surrounding him. Draped under a crisp white dress shirt tailored for his slight frame was a warm wool-lined navy blazer trimmed with gold. Beneath the shirt, hidden from sight but never absent in presence, hung the Soulstone of the Bound...a flawless, golden crystal shaped like a teardrop heart, pulsing faintly with the collective essence of the Soul-Bond. It lay close to Harry's heart, tethered to the magic of his soul-bound mates. Unlike the others, Harry wore no visible Band of Eternity. The girls who were bound to him each bore one...delicate golden bracelets inscribed in Ancient Veela script, etched with the names of all those connected by the sacred bond.
Fleur and Gabrielle Delacour stood to Harry's right, their hands resting gently in his. Fleur, regal even at eleven, wore her Beauxbatons formal robes, sky-blue silk lined with white fur and adorned with silver embroidery that glistened in the candlelight. Gabrielle, five years old like Harry, clung to her sister with quiet grace, her own robes matching in hue but simpler in cut, though no less charming. The family resemblance between the two was unmistakable, their Veela heritage shimmering in their flawless features and subtle silver sheen in their eyes.
The chamber doors parted at last with a soft chime, and the delegation from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic entered in perfect formation, their presence elegant and commanding. Fleur and Gabrielle both straightened instinctively, their postures subtly reflecting the respect owed to the women and man who had guided them through their formative years at the French school.
At the fore strode Madame Élodie Laroux, Deputy Headmistress and Head of the Veela Cultural Studies Program. Clad in regal slate-blue robes embroidered with gilded sigils of the Veela Flame, her silver-streaked hair was twisted into an intricate chignon. Her eyes, violet and keen, swept the room with solemn approval.
"I have watched over you both since your first lessons in our sacred flame," she said softly, her accent rich and melodic. "And now, to see your paths lead here… my heart swells."
To her right walked Mademoiselle Clémence Rochefort, Director of Student Affairs and Matron of the Veela Residence Wing. She carried herself with the air of a protective hawk, her pale ash-blonde curls pinned back under a blue satin headpiece. "I remember when Gabrielle first came to us," she smiled gently at the youngest Delacour, who smiled shyly back. "Now look at you, ma petite lumière (my little light)… you stand beside your soulmate."
Behind them, Monsieur Théo Bellamy, Professor of Magical History and official Beauxbatons Liaison to the French Veela Court, dipped his head in greeting. Tall, with neatly trimmed chestnut hair and eyes like polished mahogany, he wore layered black and navy robes. "Harry Potter," he said, his voice formal but warm. "France recognizes your position, and more importantly, your heart."
Trailing them in serene grace were Madame Sylvaine Ardent, Senior Instructor in Ritual Magic and Keeper of Veela Lineage Records, and Madame Amara Valérien, Delegate of the Children's French Veela Court. Madame Ardent's presence was like ancient parchment and smoldering incense...her aura heavy with old magic and deep knowledge. Madame Valérien, by contrast, was all warmth and maternal authority, her golden robes clasped with an emerald brooch in the shape of a mother's embrace.
Madame Valérien addressed Fleur and Gabrielle first. "Mes enfants (My children), I bring news from home. Eight young Veela, each bearing the mark of their lineage, now reside within Beauxbatons' junior and intermediate houses. In the spring, three more will join them...cousins of your kindred flame, from Courts aligned with our own." Fleur's eyes widened. "There are others? Like Gabrielle and me?"
"Oui," Madame Ardent confirmed with a nod. "And more arrive each year...four at a time, chosen and watched over by the Court of Veela Enfants. They come not merely to study, but to grow under the legacy you now begin to shape."
Gabrielle's voice, small but steady, slipped free. "Will they be safe? From the people who want to hurt us… like those who attacked?"
"They will be guarded, just as you are," Madame Laroux said, her tone iron beneath its silk. "The Bond of Flame protects. As does France. As does this court." Harry squeezed Gabrielle's hand gently and smiled at her. "You'll help them, Gabby. Like you helped me." Gabrielle's cheeks turned pink. "Okay… I'll try my best."
As the conversation turned to the ceremony preparations, Fleur leaned toward Mademoiselle Rochefort. "I never imagined… that our story would lead here." Rochefort touched Fleur's cheek briefly. "And yet, it always would. Veela do not simply live...they ignite. And you, mon étoile, have become the kindling of something ancient and sacred." Fleur blinked back a tear. "Merci."
Behind them, the faint hum of the Soulstone around Harry's neck pulsed with warm resonance. One by one, the names etched on the Bands of Eternity burned softly with golden light: Harry Potter, Elana Hogwarts, Hermione Jean Granger, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Nymphadora Tonks, Susan Bones, Gabrielle Delacour, Mizukume, Penelope Clearwater, Katarina, Daphne Greengrass, Ahri, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Cho Chang, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Sue Li, Lavender Brown, and Pansy Parkinson.
And though none of the Veela representatives commented aloud, every one of them saw the glow...and understood that Harry James Potter, once forgotten and abused, now stood at the heart of a growing storm of destiny, magic, and love that would shape both nations and Courts to come.
Time: 3:20 PM
Location: Royal Magical Wing, Buckingham Palace, London, United Kingdom
The afternoon sun began to drift lower in the sky, casting long golden rays across the stained-glass windows of the palace's private magical wing. The intricate depictions of magical history danced with life in the enchanted glass...four great figures cloaked in legacy and legend: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Their gazes seemed to follow Harry as he stood at the center of the chamber, unaware that the very magic of the Founders lingered around him, waiting for this moment.
Dressed in a neatly tailored navy woolen waistcoat and trousers...appropriate formal attire for a young royal in 1986...Harry's crisp white shirt remained buttoned to the collar, concealing the gleaming Soulstone of the Bound that lay against his heart. A steady pulse of golden warmth throbbed softly beneath the fabric, syncing with the quiet strength of those gathered around him. Though he did not wear a Band of Eternity like his soul-bound, the presence of the Soulstone linked him to each of them...unseen, but undeniable.
The twenty bonded girls...his bound...formed a semicircle behind Elana Hogwarts, who stepped forward with reverence, carrying a small rectangular chest made of darkened oak and bound with silver and gold inlays. The crest of Hogwarts, deeply engraved into its lid, shimmered faintly. The magic that protected it was ancient and sacred, as old as the school itself.
Harry's green eyes widened slightly as Elana lowered herself to one knee before him, presenting the chest as one would a crown to a sovereign. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with emotion.
"Harry," she said softly, her violet eyes shimmering as they met his, "we...all of us...wish to give you this, together." Hermione, standing just behind her, rested a hand on Elana's shoulder and spoke next. "It was written by the Founders themselves, preserved with spells even I didn't recognize at first. It's their words, Harry. Their teachings. Their truths."
Gabrielle, in her soft, sweet voice, added, "They knew you would come. That someone like you would be needed. Kind and strong and… pure in your heart."
The room grew silent as Elana carefully opened the chest, revealing a single, thick leather-bound book. Its cover was etched with runes in all four Founders' styles...Ravenclaw's sharp calligraphy, Slytherin's swirling serpentine curves, Gryffindor's bold strikes, and Hufflepuff's gentle, woven loops. The pages within were impossibly preserved, the ink still wet with purpose even centuries later.
Elana lifted the book and held it out. "This is the Lord's Codex of Hogwarts. It was not meant for a headmaster… it was meant for the true Lord of the Castle. You. The one who holds royal blood by birth… and magic by destiny."
Harry stepped forward slowly. His hand, though small, didn't shake. He reached for the Codex and accepted it with both hands, drawing it to his chest. The moment the book touched his body, a warm ripple of light surged through the Soulstone under his shirt, illuminating it briefly through the fabric. Each of the girls' Bands of Eternity shimmered in response, the Ancient Veela script glowing as the names of the bondmates softly pulsed: Harry Potter, Elana Hogwarts, Hermione Jean Granger, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, Nymphadora Tonks, Susan Bones, Gabrielle Delacour, Mizukume, Penelope Clearwater, Katarina, Daphne Greengrass, Ahri, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Cho Chang, Padma Patil, Parvati Patil, Sue Li, Lavender Brown, and Pansy Parkinson.
Harry looked up, his young voice tender and clear. "They… really left this for me?" Dora knelt beside Elana, grinning as her hair turned soft pink with emotion. "They did. Because they believed in you long before you were even born."
"Because you're the first Royal Pure-Blood," Fleur said, her French accent curling around each word like a silken ribbon. "You have the heart of a king… and the soul of magic."
"And because you'll lead not with power," Mizukume added, her golden fox eyes warm and ancient, "but with wisdom. With kindness." Harry looked down at the Codex again, then back at his bound family, his voice cracking just a little as he whispered, "I'll do my best… I promise."
Elana rose, placing a hand gently over the Soulstone beneath his shirt. "That's all they ever asked for. And that's why they chose you." And so, beneath the watchful gaze of the magical portraits, amidst the radiant girls bound to his soul and the quiet hum of ancient Hogwarts magic, Harry Potter...the boy who was once locked away and forgotten...took his first step toward becoming not just the Lord of Hogwarts… but a leader worthy of the magic, the crown, and the love that had found him.
Date: Thursday, July 31st, 1986
Time: 7:38 PM
Location: Royal Magical Observation Wing, Lower Level, Buckingham Palace, London, United Kingdom
The quiet hush of the secure medical wing was broken only by the low hum of enchantments woven into every wall, ceiling, and floor tile. Light orbs floated gently along the edges of the room, casting a warm amber glow across the polished wood and brass-accented walls. Magical instruments...crafted in oak, brass, and aged crystal...stood side by side with Muggle medical scanners, carefully modified with enchantments to detect the fusion of magic and biology in ways never before attempted.
The room itself...hidden beneath the palace, shielded by layers of spellwork and secrecy...was one of the few places in the world equipped to monitor a phenomenon as rare and profound as the Soul-Bond.
Harry Potter sat quietly on a cushioned reclining examination couch, his legs dangling over the edge, his shirt neatly folded beside him on a rolling tray. Even without the garment, the Soulstone of the Bound glowed gently at the base of his throat, tucked into a fine gold chain. The heart-shaped gem pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, casting soft golden light against his bare chest. It did not blaze or radiate power...it simply was, present like the sun at dawn.
Around him stood all twenty of the Bound, each girl's Bands of Eternity glowing faintly beneath the sleeves of their dresses, robes, or jackets. Fleur stood nearest, her hand gently brushing against Harry's. Gabrielle sat on the edge of a nearby bed, legs swinging, her expression serious beyond her five years. Hermione clutched a leather-bound notebook to her chest, her eyes never leaving the projected magical readouts floating in the air like ghostly, luminous scrolls.
Across the room, Healer Elowen Rosethorn, her robes a soft blend of forest green and charcoal gray, adjusted her half-moon spectacles as she waved a wand slowly over a floating orb of golden smoke. Beside her, Dr. Jonathan Marsh, tall, bald, and dressed in the dark blue uniform of the Royal Physician Corps, turned the dials of a hybrid crystal-electronic interface built into a polished walnut console.
The main magical display shimmered into shape in the center of the room. A three-dimensional projection of Harry's body rotated slowly in the air...first his skeletal structure, then layers of muscle, organs, and finally, a shimmering field that encased his entire body. It glowed a radiant silver-gold, like the first light of sunrise on untouched snow. "This... this isn't healing," Elowen whispered, more to herself than to the room.
Marsh exhaled and turned to face the group. "It's transformation. We ran these scans weekly for six months...comparing baseline metrics, magical absorption, cellular regeneration. What we're seeing isn't recovery. It's... preparation."
Harry blinked slowly, his small hand tightening slightly around Fleur's. "What does that mean?"
Elowen looked to him, her voice hushed and reverent. "Harry… your body is being reshaped. Not just repaired. Your musculature is growing at a rate that matches adult conditioning...even though you're not being trained for it directly. Your bone density, nerve lattice, cardiovascular and arcane channels...they're reinforcing and expanding themselves. Magic is being layered through your cells like threads through a tapestry."
She flicked her wand, and the display zoomed in on his heart. It beat steadily...strong and slow...but now surrounded by a corona of golden light. Not as a metaphor, but literally. "Your magical core has already tripled in size," Marsh added, turning the display. "And it's still stabilizing. No wizard, not even those trained in core expansion rituals, grows like this. And you're only six." Katie's voice broke the silence. "It's because of Bond. Isn't it?"
"It's because of all of you," Elowen answered gently. "Each connection deepens the resonance of his magic. But more than that… it's not just the bond drawing power into Harry...it's Harry being prepared to carry you. To protect you. To lead." Hermione's breath caught, and she whispered, "He's becoming something new. Not just a wizard. Not even just a Lord…"
"Something older," Mizukume said softly, her fox-like eyes narrowed in quiet awe. "A vessel shaped by both love and power." Fleur's hand slipped into Harry's. "I feel it, you know… every time I touch you. There's strength in you that didn't used to be there. Not just in your body… but in your soul."
Harry looked down at himself. He was still small...six years old, barely more than a child...but now his limbs had begun to fill with the shape of future strength. Lean muscle was already beginning to form along his arms and chest. His spine held a subtle, unconscious poise. His green eyes, though still full of wonder, now bore the depth of someone slowly beginning to see.
"I don't know if I can be what all of you think I am," he said, voice soft. "But I want to try. I want to protect you. All of you."
Gabrielle slipped off the bed and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Harry's waist. "You already do. Every day." Cho nodded, tears sparkling in her eyes. "You don't have to become anything. You are Harry. That's what matters." Ahri stepped forward and knelt, placing her hand over his knee. "But you're also becoming what magic has waited for. What destiny tried to take from you… and what love is now restoring."
A long silence followed as all twenty girls gathered around him, forming a circle. The magical field pulsing from the Soulstone grew brighter, humming like the echo of a choir lost to time. And above them, the floating projection of Harry's evolving body shifted one last time...becoming not just an image of a boy...but a symbol of a leader, still growing. A protector, still learning. A beacon, reborn. And as the light dimmed, Elowen whispered into the silence, "He's becoming our future."