It took only a single newspaper clipping to turn Lord Blackfire's quiet reputation into a storm that threatened to swallow all of wizarding Britain.
The morning edition of the Daily Prophet arrived as usual, carried by owls that swooped down over London and dropped their enchanted papers through windows and onto breakfast tables. But the moment the papers unfolded themselves, witches and wizards across the country found the same headline staring back at them.
"Mysterious Lord Blackfire Grants Magic to Squib Child!"
The article was filled with speculation and breathless claims. A moving photograph showed Lily Longbottom standing beside the apple tree she had grown outside Longbottom Manor. In the magical image, the moment repeated endlessly—her small hand touching the soil, the sprout emerging from the ground, the branches expanding outward until a full apple tree stood proudly where nothing had been moments before.
To the wizarding public, the conclusion seemed obvious.
Lord Blackfire had given magic to a squib.
And if he could do it once, he could surely do it again.
Within hours, the lobby of Zeus Hotel was overflowing with visitors. The once orderly and elegant reception hall had turned into something closer to a marketplace of desperation and ambition.
Pureblood families filled every corner of the room. Some had arrived from distant parts of Britain. Others had traveled from continental Europe the moment they heard the rumor.
Many had brought their children.
Some of the children stood nervously behind their parents, clutching robes that were too large for them. Others looked hopeful, staring at the staircase that led toward the private floors of the hotel where Lord Blackfire was rumored to be staying.
Voices rose over one another in heated arguments.
"I demand an audience with Lord Blackfire!"
"My son deserves the same chance as that Longbottom girl!"
"We have brought a donation—two thousand galleons!"
Another wizard quickly countered, louder and more desperate.
"Five thousand galleons!"
A richly dressed witch stepped forward, her voice cold but determined.
"My family can offer far more than money. We have ancient artifacts—powerful ones."
The bargaining continued, growing more frantic with each passing minute. Gold was offered freely. Rare magical ingredients were promised. Some even hinted at influence within the Wizengamot itself.
Anything—absolutely anything—that might convince Lord Blackfire to perform the same miracle again.
Upstairs, far removed from the chaos below, Harry Potter sat quietly in one of the private offices of Zeus Hotel.
The room was peaceful compared to the lobby beneath them, but even here the distant noise of raised voices occasionally drifted upward through the corridor.
Harry held the Daily Prophet loosely in his hand, staring at the animated photograph of Lily and the apple tree.
Across the desk, Cassandra leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed.
"Well," she said dryly, "that escalated faster than expected."
Harry dropped the newspaper onto the desk with a soft sigh.
"They think I can give magic to squibs."
Cassandra tilted her head slightly.
"To be fair," she replied, "the evidence looks convincing."
"She was never a squib," he said firmly. "Her magic was just dormant."
Cassandra shrugged.
"That might be true," she said. "But the wizarding world doesn't know that."
Downstairs another shout echoed through the hotel lobby.
"Ten thousand galleons!"
Someone immediately shouted over him.
"Fifteen thousand!"
Harry rubbed his forehead, already feeling a headache forming.
"This is exactly what I was afraid of."
A notification flickered into existence before him.
[World Reputation Update]
Persona: Lord Blackfire
Pureblood Families: Reputation ↑↑
Foreign Nobility: Reputation ↑↑
Public Curiosity: Extreme
New Rumored Title:
"The Magic-Maker"
Harry stared at the title with visible displeasure.
"That might be the worst nickname I've ever heard."
Cassandra couldn't help smirking slightly.
"You could charge for it," she said lightly. "You'd become the richest wizard in Europe within a month."
"I'm serious," Harry replied.
"So am I."
The room fell silent for a moment.
Harry stood slowly and walked toward the tall window that overlooked the street below the hotel.
From above, he could clearly see the gathering crowd. Carriages lined the road, broom riders hovered impatiently in the air, and flashes of Apparition appeared every few seconds as more families arrived.
Many of them held children by the hand.
Children who looked nervous.
Children who looked hopeful.
Children who reminded Harry too much of himself years ago—waiting for someone to save them.
Harry exhaled slowly.
"If I start handing out skills to everyone who asks…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
The consequences were obvious.
Powerful families would compete for his favor. Some would offer wealth. Others would attempt to force his cooperation. The moment the ability became known as real, the pressure would never stop.
And the system itself might not allow such reckless use.
As if responding to the thought, another warning window appeared.
[System Warning]
Mass Skill Distribution Detected
System Stability: Unknown
Player Risk Level: HIGH
Harry closed the notification immediately.
"No," he said quietly.
Cassandra watched him carefully.
"So," she asked, "what's the plan?"
Harry turned back toward the desk.
"We make Lord Blackfire disappear."
Her eyebrows rose slightly.
"Disappear?"
"He leaves Britain," Harry explained calmly. "Immediately."
"That will disappoint a lot of very rich people."
"That's the point."
Cassandra thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding.
"Alright," she said. "Where did he go?"
Harry allowed himself a small smile.
"He's traveling."
"That vague?"
"Very."
"And when will he return?"
Harry leaned back into his chair.
"For now," he said quietly, "Lord Blackfire already left Britain."
Cassandra tilted her head.
"And Harry Potter?"
Harry smiled faintly.
"He's just a boy working at a hotel."
Downstairs, the noise of the crowd continued to echo through the building. But within a few hours the message would spread throughout wizarding Britain.
Lord Blackfire had left the country.
No one knew where he had gone.
And no one knew when—if ever—he would return.
Harry stood by the window for a moment longer, watching the hopeful families gathered below.
Then he drew the curtains closed.
For now, the legend of Lord Blackfire would have to sleep.
By the time the official announcement spread through the halls of the hotel, the atmosphere in the lobby had begun to change.
Lord Blackfire had left Britain.
No one knew where he had gone.
No one knew when he would return.
At first, the gathered families refused to believe it. Many thought it was merely a polite excuse from the hotel staff, a way to keep the endless line of visitors from overwhelming the building. Several wealthy witches and wizards tried to press the receptionists harder, offering even larger sums of gold or demanding proof that the mysterious lord was truly gone.
But as more confirmations came from the staff and the upper floors remained closed, the truth slowly settled over the crowd.
Lord Blackfire was gone.
One by one, the families began to leave. Some departed angrily, their disappointment barely hidden. Others left quietly, disappointment etched into their faces. A few remained longer than the rest, whispering plans to one another—determined to search for Lord Blackfire through other channels.
Because desperation rarely ended with a single refusal.
Eventually the once-crowded lobby began to thin, though the rumors continued to swirl like restless smoke.
It was during this quieter moment that the Longbottom family arrived.
Frank Longbottom stepped through the front doors with the confidence of an Auror accustomed to entering dangerous places. Beside him walked Alice Longbottom, her calm demeanor hiding a quiet determination. Behind them came several familiar faces—Neville, Lily, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and a few others who had insisted on accompanying them.
At the reception desk stood a young veela receptionist whose silver hair shimmered softly in the lobby's enchanted lighting.
She smiled politely when she recognized Frank.
"Good afternoon," she said. "If you're here to see Lord Blackfire, I'm afraid you've just missed him. He left earlier today."
Frank nodded once.
"That's quite alright," he replied calmly. "We're not here for Lord Blackfire."
The receptionist blinked slightly in surprise.
"Oh?"
"We're here to see Harry Potter."
The girl quickly glanced towards the stairs.
"Of course. Please wait a moment."
She tapped the desk lightly with her wand, sending a message charm up the staircase.
Upstairs, Harry received the call only a minute later.
"Visitors for you at reception."
Harry stood slowly.
If the Longbottom family had come all the way here, there was no doubt about who they wanted to see.
He walked to his small wardrobe and changed quickly into the hotel uniform he usually wore while working. The simple black attire lacked any of the grandeur associated with Lord Blackfire. Instead, it made him look like what he often pretended to be within the hotel walls—a regular worker responsible for cleaning rooms and assisting guests.
Within moments, Harry descended the staircase.
The moment he appeared in the lobby, Lily spotted him.
"Harry!"
Before he could say anything, Lily ran forward and wrapped him in a cheerful hug.
"I knew you'd still be here," she said happily.
Harry chuckled softly and returned the hug.
"It's good to see you too, Lily."
Alice stepped forward next, smiling warmly.
"You look well, Harry."
Frank nodded in greeting, his expression carrying both gratitude and something more thoughtful.
Neville hovered nearby, looking pleased but slightly awkward as usual.
"Harry! Look!"
Without warning, Lily grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the front window of the lobby where several decorative plants grew in large enchanted pots.
"Watch this!"
She placed a tiny seed into the soil and pressed her palm gently over it.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then the soil shifted.
A small green sprout appeared.
Within seconds it grew taller, leaves unfolding quickly until a thin fruit vine wrapped itself along the edge of the pot.
A few bright red berries appeared along its branches.
Harry smiled.
"Impressive."
Lily beamed.
"I can make fruit trees too! Apples, peaches, berries—anything!"
Ginny folded her arms with an amused grin.
"She's been doing that all day."
Luna nodded dreamily.
"Her magic feels very happy."
Harry looked at Lily for a moment, noticing the confidence that had begun to settle into her posture. The shy girl he had first met in Diagon Alley was slowly transforming into someone far more certain of herself.
Alice watched the interaction fondly before clearing her throat.
"Harry," she said gently, "we actually came here to ask you something important."
Harry turned toward her.
Alice exchanged a glance with Frank before continuing.
"You know that your mother was Neville's godmother," she said carefully. "Which means you are part of our family in a way."
Frank stepped forward slightly.
"And we were wondering," he said, "if you would consider coming to live with us at Longbottom Manor."
Harry blinked in surprise.
Neville nodded quickly.
"There's plenty of space," he added. "And the gardens are huge."
Lily jumped in immediately.
"And I can grow any fruit you want! Apples! Oranges! Even strawberries!"
She paused dramatically before adding,
"Or whole orchards!"
The offer was sincere.
Warm.
Family-like.
For a moment, Harry simply looked at them.
Then he smiled softly.
"That's a very kind offer," he said.
Alice looked hopeful.
"But," Harry continued gently, "I already have a family."
Frank nodded slowly, understanding.
"Of course."
"But I really appreciate it," Harry added. "More than you know."
Lily looked slightly disappointed, but she quickly recovered and nodded.
"Well… you can still visit," she said firmly.
Harry chuckled.
"I'd like that."
Frank glanced briefly toward the upper floors of the hotel.
"I was also hoping to pass a message to Lord Blackfire," he admitted. "But it seems we just missed him."
Harry nodded.
"He left earlier today."
Frank sighed quietly.
"Well," he said, "I suppose that can't be helped."
The Longbottom family stayed only a little longer before finally preparing to leave.
As they walked toward the exit, Lily waved enthusiastically.
"Come visit soon, Harry!"
"I will," Harry promised.
The doors of the hotel closed behind them.
The massive chamber deep within Slytherin Castle was quiet except for the faint crackling hum of magic.
Harry stood in the center of the room, wand lowered at his side, while pale blue energy slowly faded from the artifact resting on the stone table before him. The object—an old bronze dagger etched with ancient runes—shuddered slightly before the last wisps of dark magic dissolved like smoke.
A soft chime echoed in Harry's mind.
[Skill Level Up]
Mystic Cleansing → Lv. 10
Ability to purify curses, corrupted mana, and lingering dark magic has significantly improved.
Harry exhaled slowly.
"That was fast," he murmured to himself.
It was the fastest one of his skills had ever grown.
He glanced across the enormous room.
One entire side of the chamber was piled high with objects—hundreds of them. Rings, amulets, blades, goblets, mirrors, broken wands, and strange artifacts of every shape imaginable. Many of them radiated faint, unpleasant magical residue.
Most had been taken from abandoned ruins, hidden vaults, or dark dungeons during Harry's travels.
Some were merely cursed.
Others carried far more dangerous enchantments.
Harry had spent days carefully purifying them.
And his Mystic Cleansing ability had improved rapidly with each successful purification.
The problem was that there were still dozens—perhaps hundreds—more objects left to cleanse.
Across the castle, several house-elves bustled quietly through enchanted items, inspecting each one carefully.
Every few minutes one of them would shout excitedly.
"Master Harry! Another cursed object!"
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"At this rate," he muttered, "I'll reach level twenty before we run out."
Just then, the heavy wooden doors at the far end of the chamber opened.
Sam stepped inside.
Harry immediately noticed something was wrong.
Sam looked tense.
"Harry," Sam said quickly. "We need to talk."
Harry straightened.
"What happened?"
Sam hesitated only a moment before replying.
"It's the Aurors."
Harry's expression hardened slightly.
"What about them?"
"They've started targeting werewolves," Sam said grimly. "Ever since the attack in the Forbidden Forest."
Harry frowned.
"That was expected."
Sam shook his head.
"They're conducting raids. Questioning packs. Searching homes. Trying to identify which werewolves participated in the fight against the foreign wizards."
Harry's jaw tightened.
The problem was obvious.
Killing criminals was one thing.
But werewolves killing wizards—even dangerous criminals—was something else entirely.
Prejudice ran deep in wizarding society.
Deep enough that the truth rarely mattered.
"Call a meeting," Harry said quietly.
Later that day, the main council chamber of Slytherin Castle filled with members of the Serpent Court.
Not everyone could attend on such short notice, but the members gathered quickly.
Harry sat at the head of the long table.
To his right were Cassandra and Jason.
To his left sat Cassia and Regina.
Across from them were Sam and Charles.
Sam spoke first.
"The Aurors are tightening pressure on werewolves across Britain," he said. "They're looking for anyone connected to the Forbidden Forest battle."
Jason leaned forward.
"Did they capture anyone?"
"Not yet," Sam answered. "But they're trying."
Regina crossed her arms.
"Typical. Werewolves save their precious wizarding children from kidnappers and suddenly we're the villains."
Charles sighed.
"It's always been that way."
Sam nodded grimly.
"The prejudice is worse than usual right now. To them it doesn't matter that the werewolves killed foreign criminals. All they see is monsters attacking wizards."
Harry listened silently.
"Many of the werewolves who helped us that night are hiding," Sam continued. "But if the Aurors keep searching, they'll eventually find them."
Jason spoke again.
"So what do we do?"
Sam looked directly at Harry.
"We relocate them."
Harry nodded slowly.
"That's the safest option."
He rose from his chair and walked around the table until he stood beside Sam.
"We'll move them," Harry said calmly. "Somewhere the Aurors can't reach them."
Sam visibly relaxed at the reassurance.
Harry placed a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder.
"We can handle this," Harry said quietly.
But the moment his hand made contact—
A sharp notification appeared before Harry's eyes.
[Mystic Cleansing – Passive Detection Triggered]
Target Identified: Samuel Keller
Dark Influence Detected.
Cleanse Target?
Warning: Internal dark magic corruption present.
Harry stared at the glowing window in disbelief.
His expression went completely still.
Across the table, Cassandra noticed immediately.
"Harry?" she said slowly.
Jason leaned forward.
"What's wrong?"
Sam frowned slightly.
"Did I say something?"
But Harry didn't answer.
Because the notification was still hovering before his eyes.
And the implications of it were far greater than anything they had been discussing.
If you enjoy my work and would like to support me, you can now do so on . Every bit of encouragement means a lot and helps me keep creating more content.
Support me here: (Patre)on – AbinKydd