The Wind Mage's Legacy: Chapter 11

Hi all, 

Here’s the next chapter. The Mundanes pull off a dirty move and their true leader is revealed. 

Chapter 11

Water cascaded down Harry's back, washing away the grime from Fletcher's dingy bedsit. However, the environment wasn’t the worst aspect of the encounter. 

Even after scrubbing his skin raw, steam fogging the bathroom mirrors, he couldn't shake the oily feeling that clung to him after using the Black Wind. The ability left its mark, no matter how justified the cause. The memory of invading the two men’s minds lingered like a bad taste.

He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. His reflection stared back from the fogged mirror—emerald eyes haunted, dark stubble shadowing his jaw. The confrontation with the Mundane leader couldn't wait much longer. Each hour gave the bastard more time to plan and cause havoc. 

But he needed to relax first, to clear his mind; otherwise, he might not be able to function properly when he confronted the man.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs as Harry pulled on fresh clothes. The door burst open with enough force to rattle the ancient hinges, revealing Daphne. Her usual composure had cracked, worry etched across her features. 

Harry grinned. “Did you want a peek? "All you had to do was ask."

"Have you heard from Ayano?" She asked, ignoring his comment.

"No. Why?"

"She took Astoria to the London Zoo hours ago. They should have returned by now. Astoria needs her medicine or she may have a relapse."

"Ayano's proud and quick-tempered, but never irresponsible." Harry's brow furrowed as he shrugged on a leather jacket. "You're certain they went to the zoo?"

Daphne nodded. Her fingers twisted the hem of her silk blouse—a nervous habit he'd noticed during their study sessions. 

Harry closed his eyes, reaching out to his wind network. Zephyr responded first, the playful spirit's essence sweeping through the zoo's grounds like an invisible tide. Minutes stretched like hours before the spirit returned—no sign of either girl. The other spirits joined the search, their essence spreading across London, checking every park and tourist spot.

"That's impossible," Harry said. Even if Zephyr missed their exact location, Ayano's fire abilities should have left traces behind to follow. "Something's wrong."

The winds whispered back through his consciousness—nothing, nothing, nothing. Until...

"Found traces of Ayano." Harry's blood ran cold as the spirit's message crystallised. "Leading straight to Canary Wharf."

"What's at Canary Wharf?" Daphne's question cut through his rising dread.

"Nothing good.” 

“I need to go—"

“Stay here," Harry ordered. "I'll bring Astoria back."

"But—"

"No." His tone brooked no argument. "You will be a distraction. I cannot save her and worry about you at the same time. The people we’re dealing with are no joke.”

Daphne's shoulders slumped. "Find her. Please."

Harry nodded once before disappearing through the door. Kaze materialised beside him as he stepped outside into the crisp evening air. "This reeks of a trap."

"The organisation is clever." Harry took flight, the wind wrapping around him like a protective cocoon. "They always appear to be one step ahead."

"Even your power has limits," Kaze warned. "Many powerful men have died as a result of the most trivial of errors. It’s frighteningly common."

Harry's jaw tightened as Canary Wharf's gleaming towers rose before them, glass and steel monuments to modern finance piercing the darkening sky. Through a hairline crack in a thirty-eighth-floor window, air currents carried fragments of the scene within.

His heart stopped. Ayano and Astoria slumped unconscious in leather office chairs, bomb vests strapped to their bodies. Behind a mahogany desk, a grey-haired man held a detonator in one hand, calmly reading the Financial Times as if he hadn't just orchestrated a kidnapping.

Harry instructed the spirits to position themselves outside the thirty-eighth-floor windows and wait for his signal. After vanishing a windowpane, he slipped inside, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. 

His knuckles rapped against polished wood, the sound impossibly loud on the empty floor.

"Come in, Mr Potter. I've been expecting you."

Harry stepped into the office. Steel-grey eyes met his over the detonator's silver casing. A faint smile spread across the man's thin lips, as if they were meeting for afternoon tea rather than a hostage situation.

"Not another step." The man's finger hovered over the trigger with casual menace. "Shall we talk?"

"Let the girls go, then we'll talk." 

"I don't think you grasp the situation. Your abilities are impressive, but even you can't move faster than my finger on this trigger."

"How do you know about my abilities? Are you sure you know everything?" 

Harry's gaze flicked to Ayano and Astoria. Their chests rose and fell steadily—alive but deeply unconscious. The bombs strapped to them looked real enough. 

"I have my sources," the man said. "I'm Marcus Stein, leader of the Mundanes. Though I suspect you already knew that."

"A mass murderer's name changes nothing." 

"Even the worst villains have an origin story. Will you spare me a moment to share mine?"

"I don't—"

"You misunderstand." Marcus's finger twitched on the detonator. "This isn't a request. I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger. I have nothing left to lose."

Harry's jaw clenched. The wind spirits hovered outside, their ethereal forms distorting the cityscape beyond the windows. One command would end this, but curiosity stayed his hand. "Speak."

Marcus settled deeper into his leather chair. "My daughter received her Hogwarts letter eleven years ago. Such excitement in her eyes when she discovered she was a witch. Despite my reservations, I let her go."

“The weekly letters painted such wonderful pictures—moving staircases, friendly ghosts, magical feasts. Then after Christmas..." Marcus's manicured fingers tightened around the detonator, knuckles whitening. "Everything changed."

"She was bullied," Harry guessed. 

"Ah, you understand Hogwarts well.” 

“Given your age, your daughter must have been at Hogwarts before or during the war. It was a particularly dark time for Muggleborns."

"Before. If I'd known what would happen…,” Marcus exhaled. "She came home that summer a shell of herself. Refused to talk about it. Year after year, I watched her deteriorate. I tried convincing her to pull out of Hogwarts but something kept her there. Then in her fifth year—”

Harry's stomach churned, knowing where the story was going. 

"The headmaster appeared at my door, telling me she had gone missing. Offered me empty platitudes." Contempt dripped from Marcus's words. "The most useless man I've ever met."

Harry nodded. 

Marcus pulled out a photo frame from his desk drawer. He stared at it while he continued to narrate his story. 

"I couldn't even search for her myself. Forced to wait until her friend finished school to learn the truth. The things those pure-blood bastards did to her. I knew they must have been behind her disappearance."

Marcus slammed the frame face down with enough force to crack the glass. "I knew she was dead. Those monsters walked free while my baby didn’t even receive a proper burial. So I made a promise. The magical world would face justice. No more hiding in the shadows while children suffer."

Harry frowned. "Your daughter's death doesn't justify mass murder." 

"Of course it does. The non-magical world must see the truth."

"You're killing the very people you claim to protect." 

"Necessary sacrifices." Marcus's fingers drummed against the detonator. "The Crown and government share the blame. I begged them for help finding her. They chose political convenience over a missing child."

“I bet they changed their tune when the war broke out."

"Too little, too late." Marcus's eyes burned with zealot's fire, decades of pain crystallised into ruthless purpose. "Now they'll understand the cost of their choices."

The office fell silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and Marcus's laboured breathing. Harry was almost ready to make his move but there was something that he was still curious about. 

"How did you manage to capture the girls?" Harry asked. "Do you have another wizard working for you? I already took one of them out."

“Of course. I have a witch in my ranks who's proven quite useful. These girls never saw her coming." 

Harry's gaze swept the room. "Where is she?"

Marcus shrugged. "She left after warning me you were closing in. Thankfully, I got her to provide some insurance first."

"What do you think you're going to achieve here?" Harry demanded. "Do you really think you will get out of this situation?"

Marcus's expression soured, the lines around his mouth deepening. "A foolish hope, really. I thought that maybe I could convince you to join our ranks. You know what it's like to lose family to the magical world, don't you? Should not you feel the same rage that I do? The rage that keeps me awake at night.”

Harry's eyes turned azure blue. "Don't assume you know me. Now, release the girls, or things are going to get ugly." 

Marcus sneered. "I'd like to see you try."

"I don't know where you got your information about my abilities, but I'm afraid to say it's incomplete."

With a thought, Harry commanded his wind spirits into action. The office window exploded inward, showering the room with glittering shards. In the same instant, a blade of compressed air sliced through Marcus's arm, severing it cleanly at the elbow. Harry caught the detonator with a cushion of air, preventing the possibility of an accidental explosion. 

Marcus' scream of agony was cut short as Boreas, the largest wind spirit, slammed him against the wall with successive gusts. The impact knocked several framed certificates to the floor, glass cracking.

"Enough, Boreas," Harry ordered. "I need him alive."

Moving swiftly, Harry removed the bomb vests from Ayano and Astoria and encased the devices in a protective sphere of wind. He untied the girls and with a flick of his wand, he revived them.

Ayano bolted upright, her eyes wild. A stream of colourful curses spilled from her lips, mixing Japanese and English in her fury. Astoria stirred more slowly, her face ashen, a stark contrast to her usual vibrant demeanour. 

"That bitch!" Ayano snarled, her fists clenching. "Wait until I get my hands on her! She'll regret the day she ever lived."

Harry frowned, his brow furrowing. "Who are you talking about?"

"Regina!" Ayano spat, practically vibrating with rage. "She was the one who ambushed us when our guards were down. She's been working for the Mundanes all along."

Harry froze, disbelief warring with a sinking feeling in his gut. Regina, the friendly guide who'd seemed so helpful, a traitor? Who would have ever suspected her? It explained Marcus's knowledge of his abilities. Had Ayano unwittingly passed on information shared in confidence? The implications raced through his mind, each possibility more troubling than the last.

A weak laugh drew Harry's attention back to Marcus. Blood trickled from the corner of the man's mouth as he sneered, his teeth stained red. "You think it ends with me? I was never the leader of the Mundanes. Just second-in-command."

Harry crossed the room in two strides. He yanked Marcus's head back by his hair, forcing the man to meet his gaze. "It's the witch in charge of everything, isn't it?"

Marcus spat a glob of blood onto Harry's shirt. "That's right. She'll continue our work even without me around."

Harry released him in disgust. "I hope it was worth it."

As Harry turned away, his gaze fell on the shattered picture frame lying amidst the debris on Marcus's desk. He picked it up absently, then froze as recognition dawned. The teenage girl in the photo was unmistakably a younger version of Regina Bowles. The same eyes, the same curve of her smile, just softer, more innocent.

"Say, Marcus," Harry said slowly. "Did the witch ever meet with you in person?"

Marcus frowned, confusion momentarily overriding his pain. "Of course. What sort of question is that?"

Harry held up the photo. "Then she was hiding her real appearance. Your daughter is Regina Bowles, the woman who's been spying on us. It's unmistakable."

Marcus's eyes bulged. "Impossible," he choked out, coughing violently. A fresh spray of blood spattered his chin.

Harry patted his shoulder with mock sympathy. "You must be happy your daughter's alive. Of course, that must be tempered by the fact that she never bothered to inform you."

"Kelly," Marcus whispered.

"She was using you all along," Harry continued, his tone merciless. "She must be feeling the same anger you felt about her abuse. But she was smarter than you and allowed you to take the fall. Maybe she expected you to fail here, or perhaps she was hoping you'd blow yourself up and take me out."

A weak chuckle escaped Marcus's bloodied lips. "My beautiful daughter. She gets her vindictiveness from her daddy."

As Marcus slipped into unconsciousness, Harry felt the anger drain from him, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. It didn’t feel like he had scored a victory here. 

"This is some messed-up shit," Ayano muttered.

Harry turned to Astoria. "Are you alright?"

The girl nodded, a grin spreading across her pale face. "I needed a little excitement in my life."

Harry shook his head, marvelling at her resilience. "I need to get you home. Your sister's worried about you."

He faced Ayano again, his mind already racing ahead to their next steps. "How did you meet Regina?"

"Through my father's contacts," Ayano said. "He couldn't have known who she really was."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Was it just a really bad coincidence? It feels like the Potter's luck is turning against me once again."

"I'll call my father and see what he has to say for himself," Ayano offered.

"Speaking of calls," Harry sighed, reaching for his phone, "I need to contact the team. We may have captured Marcus, but Regina's still out there."

As he dialled, Harry's mind raced through the implications. The Mundane threat was far from over, and now they faced an enemy who knew far too much about them. 

What was Regina’s endgame? Did she believe in her father's crusade, or was she just using him to accomplish something else? Would she continue to target Muggles, or would she turn her attention to wizards? 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Inspector Hawthorne's team arrived to take Marcus into custody. Harry briefed them on Regina Bowles's true identity as the Mundanes' leader, her escape forcing them to rethink their strategy. The suggestion arose to inform the Ministry about hunting a rogue Muggle-born witch who threatened the Statute of Secrecy. Let the Ministry deal with it.

Harry dismissed the idea outright. He didn’t want the public turning against Muggleborns mere weeks after the war had ended. They already had to deal with so much during the war. The fresh controversy could reignite those tensions. Moreover, the British Ministry and Hogwarts bore partial responsibility for allowing the abuse that sparked this situation. Even though Harry trusted Kingsley somewhat, he didn’t trust the Ministry as a whole. 

After escorting the girls back to Grimmauld Place, Harry endured Daphne's cold fury over Astoria becoming entangled in his mess. He departed swiftly to interrogate Marcus, whose healed injuries removed any hesitation about employing the Black Wind. Though the ability left him queasy, extracting the organisation's secrets proved necessary to dismantle their operations.

For now, Harry intended to shelve the Mundanes problem. Regina lacked support and resources—rebuilding would take time. If another incident arose, he would respond to it. Until then, his NEWTs demanded attention.

But first, one task remained: convincing the masses of his extraterrestrial origins. 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry perched atop St Paul's Cathedral, the dome's weathered lead cool beneath his feet. Twilight painted London's skyline in deepening shades of purple and gold. 

Zephyr swirled beside him, the playful spirit's form rippling with barely contained excitement. Harry sensed its desperate desire to begin the light show but held firm.

"Patience," Harry murmured. 

After waiting for another half hour and making sure everything was prepared, he judged it was time to get the show started.

Through his connection to the spirits, he sent clear images of the sequence they'd practised. Their collective anticipation thrummed through him like electricity.

His wand sliced through the evening air, weaving intricate patterns as he whispered incantations. Tiny orbs of light emerged from its tip, hovering like miniature stars before dispersing across the darkening sky. Zephyr's essence swirled around the magical lights, the playful spirit's power amplifying and transforming them into something otherworldly.

Zephyr shot upward, his joy manifested in mesmerising geometric patterns swirling through the darkening sky. 

The other wind spirits hovered at their assigned positions across London—Boreas above Westminster, Notus near Tower Bridge, and the others strategically placed to create the illusion of a city-wide event. He had already cast the spells on them. When they saw Zephyr shoot up, they joined him in his intricate dance.

The people in the streets below gasped as they noticed the unusual display. Harry allowed himself a small smile as phase one went exactly as planned.

The temperature around him spiked. Heat shimmered in the air as a woman appeared on the dome beside him, held in the arms of a flying Greek statue. Her designer clothes and perfectly styled blonde hair seemed at odds with the raw power radiating from her presence.

"So you're the famous Tempest." Her aristocratic American accent carried a clear challenge. "I must say, using a wind spirit and magic to fake an alien encounter? That's creative."

Harry kept his attention on the display above while studying her through his peripheral vision. "And you are?"

"Catherine McDonald." She moved closer, her heels clicking against the lead roof. "Though I suspect you've heard of my family from the Kannagi Heiress."

Ayano's warning about the American fire practitioner flashed through Harry's mind. The flying Greek statue must be Catherine’s construct.  

He maintained his neutral expression but readied his defences. "I'm busy."

"Don't let me interrupt your little deception." 

Harry scowled. “Then make sure that statue isn’t seen. You’ll ruin the entire operation.”

“What do you take me for? An amateur?”

Harry didn’t respond as he was distracted by a voice, carried to him on the wind. 

“MACUSA agents have been spotted near parliament. Proceed with caution.”

"Bloody wind," Harry muttered.

Using his wind abilities, he developed a basic communication system. While crude, it allowed him to maintain contact with anyone in a ten-kilometre radius.

The sky show continued above, now featuring massive geometric shapes that rotated impossibly through each other. Electronic devices began malfunctioning across the city as the spirits' power interfered with electromagnetic fields. Right on schedule, panic-tinged excitement rippled through the gathering crowds.

"Most practitioners can barely manage one spirit," Catherine noted, her tone carrying equal parts admiration and calculation. "Yet here you are, conducting an aerial ballet with several."

Harry turned his focus back to the spirits above, sending subtle adjustments through their connection as the display entered its next phase. "If you're here to recruit me, you've wasted your time."

"I came to satisfy my curiosity." Catherine's power pulsed around her like a heat mirage. "Father warned me not to interfere, but when I sensed this level of spirit activity..." She shrugged one elegant shoulder. "How could I resist?"

A disturbance near the Tower of London caught Harry's attention. A man had somehow breached the police cordon, wielding professional recording equipment and muttering into a digital recorder. 

Harry sent a silent command through his connection with the spirits. Zephyr's essence coalesced around the man's equipment, creating localised electromagnetic interference. The investigator's frustrated shouts carried faintly on the wind.

"Phase two," Harry muttered. "Commence in three... two... one..."

He raised his wand and cast a spell in the air.

The wind spirits shifted formation, their combined power coalescing into a massive shape above the Thames. Compressed air took on substance and form—a sleek, metallic craft that gleamed enigmatically in the city lights. The crowd's reaction was immediate and deafening.

"Impressive." Catherine's eyes gleamed with professional interest. "Though you might want to deal with our uninvited guests first."

Several figures in dark robes appeared on nearby rooftops, wands raised. MACUSA's response team, investigating the massive surge of unexplained power.

"Wonderful," Harry muttered, preparing to abort the display.

"Allow me." Catherine stepped forward, fire spiralling around her fingers. "Consider it a gesture of good faith."

Flames erupted across the rooftops, precisely targeted to create maximum discomfort with minimal damage. The MACUSA agents found themselves dealing with a scorching heat that caused them to start sweating profusely in their thick robes. They were forced to apparate away when the heat became too unbearable.   

Harry raised an eyebrow at her intervention. "Why are you helping me?"

"Professional courtesy." Her smile held sharp edges. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with demonstrating my family's capabilities."

Harry sighed. Her actions may have solved one problem but likely caused another. MACUSA would be even more suspicious. 

The "craft" dissolved into shimmering lights that danced across the sky before fading into darkness. The deception had been a resounding success. Dozens of cameras were pointed at the sky, capturing the entire spectacle. After his first appearance, more and more people invested in cameras in the hopes of capturing something.  

"Well," Catherine said. "That was more entertaining than I expected. I’m sure our paths will cross soon enough.” 

Her construct carried her into the night sky, making sure not to be seen by those below. 

Tomorrow's headlines would carry exactly the story he'd planned. The alien narrative would take root, strengthened by tonight's chaos. Would this be enough to satisfy the masses? Or would he have to put on another show? 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The following morning, Ayano announced her departure for Japan. Her usual fiery demeanour dimmed as she explained her need to report recent events to her father and handle clan matters. Though she promised a swift return.

"Try not to get into too much trouble while I'm gone," she said.

Before Harry could retort, she hugged him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. The gesture left him frozen, watching her retreating form until she disappeared through the Floo.

The rest of the day disappeared into study sessions with Daphne in the Black Library. Parchments covered every surface as she drilled him on the theory side of the exams. The practical aspects of his NEWTs sparked no concern—since bonding with Kaze, spells flowed from his wand with startling ease. Either that or Voldemort's soul fragment had dampened his abilities.

Evening found him stepping through Andromeda's fireplace, brushing soot from his shoulders. She stood in the living room cradling Teddy, dark circles shadowing her eyes. The moment the baby spotted Harry, his hair shifted from turquoise to messy black, pudgy arms reaching out.

"You look exhausted," Harry said, taking Teddy. 

Andromeda led him into the kitchen, her usual grace absent. "His Metamorphmagus abilities make it challenging. Even at two months old, he is constantly moving. He reminds me of Tonks when she was a baby."

"I've offered to help whenever you need a break," Harry said.

"You're young, Harry. Your life shouldn't revolve around childcare."

"That's my choice to make." He bounced Teddy, earning a delighted gurgle. 

As she prepared tea, Andromeda mentioned returning to work at Blackwood & Associates, a lawyer’s firm in Diagon Alley. She was a lawyer who handled finances for her clients. 

Something in her careful movements caught Harry's attention—a tension in her shoulders that spoke of deeper troubles.

"What aren't you telling me?" Harry asked.

Her eyes flicked to Teddy before answering. "I was up for partnership before the war. Now they're looking elsewhere."

"Why?"

Andromeda's sad smile and glance at Teddy told him everything.

"Because of Remus?" Harry's knuckles whitened around his teacup. "Those prejudiced bastards. I'll—"

"Watch your language around Teddy." She touched his arm, calming him down. "You don’t need to worry about it. I was thinking of quitting the firm anyway. But I need work to support us."

"You don't need to worry about money. I'm reinstating you and Teddy to the Black family."

"That's nice, but I need something beyond motherhood to challenge my mind."

"Then you're hired."

"Pardon?"

“I need a financial advisor. I bought into the Tutshill Tornadoes,” Harry said. “We're planning a complete rebrand, and I've signed as their Seeker. Plus, there is the rest of my finances that need sorting."

"A professional Quidditch player? When were you planning to mention this?"

"I’ve been busy. It slipped my mind."

"Are you serious about the offer?"

"Imagine your old firm's faces when they learn you're managing the Potter and Black finances." He grinned. "Their loss is my gain."

Andromeda laughed. "You have yourself a deal. But no more financial decisions until I've reviewed everything."

Teddy had dozed off against his chest, tiny fingers clutching his robes. The boy deserved more of his time, and he intended to provide it. Perhaps they'd both been too independent for their own good.

“You're both welcome at Grimmauld Place anytime," Harry said. "Kreacher has a new lease on life after returning from Hogwarts. He would enjoy more company in the house.”

"Careful what you offer. I might take you up on that."

"Good." Harry met her eyes. "Family should stick together."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry approached the testing room, spotting familiar faces among the waiting candidates. Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Draco Malfoy huddled in separate corners.

Susan launched herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug. Harry patted her back awkwardly, caught off guard by the display of affection.

"Only five of us?" he asked, stepping back.

Susan nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everyone else chose to return. I can't—the memories..." Her voice trailed off, eyes haunted. 

Harry grimaced. Being Madam Bones' niece had painted a target on her back during the Carrows' reign.

He turned to Draco, unable to resist. "Ready for the exams? Wouldn't want to disappoint your mother like your father did."

Susan gasped as Terry and Justin snickered.

"At least I have a mother to disappoint," Draco sneered. "I suppose you could have called Mrs Weasley your mother if Ginny hadn't found another man to comfort her."

"I’m feeling pretty lonely," Harry admitted. "Perhaps your mother needs some attention?"

"That's enough!" Susan glared between them.

Harry sighed. "Sorry. Draco brings out my worst side."

"Likewise, Potter."

The examiner's arrival cut short further bickering. The theory portion passed quickly, Daphne's relentless preparation paying off as Harry's quill flew across the parchment. He missed a few obscure questions but felt confident overall.

Lunch brought unwanted attention as ministry workers crowded the cafeteria, whispering behind their hands. News of his practical exam had drawn spectators— even some examiners vibrated with poorly concealed excitement.

"Clear the room," Harry demanded when he entered for his practical test. The chamber overflowed with onlookers.

Griselda Marchbanks smiled thinly. "Consider it additional pressure, Mr Potter. Begin with shield charms."

Harry's initial irritation faded as magic surged through him. His shield deflected every spell they threw, growing stronger rather than weaker. When Marchbanks conjured a flock of razor-winged birds, Harry transfigured them mid-flight into butterflies, then autumn leaves, then back to birds of paradise that perched on spectators' shoulders.

Gasps erupted when he levitated multiple objects while simultaneously casting other spells. He managed the feat by using his wind abilities. Could this be considered cheating? He didn’t care. 

"The Patronus Charm, if you please," Marchbanks requested.

Harry raised his wand, channelling memories of flight and freedom. "Expecto Patronum!"

Instead of his familiar stag, an enormous eagle erupted from his wand. Its wingspan stretched the width of the chamber, silver feathers rippling with ethereal light. The massive bird's head bore a crown of elongated feathers that shifted like flames in the wind. Its hooked beak looked sharp enough to tear through steel, and its talons could have grasped a horse with ease. 

"Merlin's beard," Marchbanks whispered, her usual stern demeanour cracking. "A Wuchowsen—I never thought I'd see one, even in Patronus form."

The giant eagle landed next to Harry and nuzzled his shoulder. 

"A what?" Harry asked.

"A wind spirit from Native American mythology. The Abenaki people believed it created the wind by beating its wings." Marchbanks studied the Patronus with undisguised fascination. "They say it lived atop Mount Washington, controlling the weather of the region. Most fascinating that your Patronus has taken this form."

The Wuchowsen dissolved into silver mist.

Silence fell before excited chatter broke out. Marchbanks peered at him over her spectacles. "Most impressive, Mr Potter. Though I must say, your raw power levels are rather concerning."

Harry shrugged. "Should I continue?"

"Please do. Though perhaps with less flair, we're running behind schedule."

By the time he finished, he had cast over two dozen spells. Even he was feeling tired. Unlike his wind abilities, his magic was limited. Still, he would be surprised if he didn’t do well on his NEWTs after today.  

As he left the room, he caught Draco's eye.

"Try not to wet yourself in there."

"Go kiss a Dementor, Potter."

Harry rolled his shoulders to release the tension from hours of testing. The NEWTs were finally behind him. No more late-night revision or Daphne's relentless drilling on magical theory. Now he could focus on Quidditch training and spending proper time with Teddy.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Quidditch training begins.

Thanks for reading.