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Harry kept walking, dodging a particularly unpleasant smell from a nearby cauldron shop. He had a feeling this wasn't the last time the Rosier name would come up. But how deep was Selena involved? He couldn't imagine her being mixed up in this mess. Still, families like hers often kept secrets, and there was always the chance she'd been more connected than she let on.
The thought of seeing her again tugged at the back of his mind. Selena had always been sharp—sharp enough to know when to stay quiet and when to act. If she was somehow tied to this, Harry would need to tread carefully.
Knockturn Alley grew quieter as Harry reached his destination. He paused in the shadows, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. No one seemed to be paying him any attention, but in a place like this, that didn't mean he wasn't being watched.
He stood still for a moment, considering his next move. Bellatrix's unpredictability had thrown a wrench into his plans, and now he had to find her before things spiraled further out of control. If Selena's family was hiding Bellatrix, it might be worth a visit, though that came with its own set of risks.
Harry found a shadowed spot to Disapparate back to Hogsmeade. Staying away from Hogwarts for too long wasn't the best idea. Bellatrix might have thrown things into chaos, but he still had to keep up appearances. Plus, Selena likely had no clue about any of this. The last time they spoke, she had been in South America, apprenticing under Miranda Goshawk. They were studying Amerind languages to explore connections between language and spellwork.
It wasn't her fault if her family was involved in the darker corners of the magical world, Harry figured. Selena always kept her interests focused on spellcraft, and she wasn't one to get involved in politics.
Harry would see Selena Rosier at Christmas. Normally, she skipped the Ministry's Yule events, preferring to focus on her spellcraft. But with the Minister dead, it was doubtful they would even have the energy or resources to organize such an event this year. The chaos in the Ministry would be too distracting. Harry decided that this presented an opportunity.
If the Ministry wasn't hosting, then he would.
An event of his own—a gathering that would bring together the right people, a mix of allies and potential future partners. He'd need to carefully consider the guest list, and the location would be critical. It couldn't be too flashy, but also not so low-key that it was ignored. A place that reflected his growing influence without drawing too much attention.
The plan was already taking shape in his mind. He could gather the necessary resources, make the right connections. It was time to move deeper into the political world. This was the moment he had been preparing for, and he wouldn't let it slip by.
Harry shifted his focus, already thinking through the details. It needed to be private but prestigious, with just enough exclusivity to make it something people wanted to be part of. He would draw in the families who mattered—those with influence, the old bloodlines who still held power, and even a few select outsiders who could bring something new to the table. All while carefully navigating the minefield that was wizarding politics.
Organizing an event like this meant taking a risk, but it was the kind of calculated gamble Harry knew he could handle. The Ministry's absence left a power vacuum that others would be eager to fill. He could position himself as the next rising player.
Harry walked back to his room, mind already working on the details for the event. He knew he couldn't handle all of it alone—there were too many pieces to fit together, and he'd need help with the planning. Security was especially critical. The wrong person finding out about this could be a problem.
As he entered his room, he called out, "Tweak."
With a soft pop, the Slytherin house-elf appeared, bowing low. "Yes, Sir Potter. Do you hungry?"
Harry shook his head, "Not now, Tweak. I'll summon Misty soon. But it's not for food—I need to talk to her. Can you let the others know not to make a fuss?"
Tweak's expression soured for a moment but quickly returned to obedience. "Of course, Sir Potter. Tweak be telling the others."
"Thanks," Harry said, seeing the Slytherin House Elf off.
Once Tweak disappeared, Harry moved over to his desk, pulling out parchment and jotting down a few names. Misty would handle most of the house-elf duties, but for the event, he needed extra help. He wanted every detail handled without mistakes.
Satisfied, he tapped his wand lightly on the letter and called, "Misty."
A second pop echoed through the room, and Misty appeared, bowing. "Yes, Master Potter? What does you need?"
Harry took the stack of letters from his desk, holding them out to Misty. "Give them to the names at the top, Misty. They'll take care of things from there. If they ask for your help, make sure everything's done right, alright?"
Misty nodded quickly, her large eyes shining with eagerness. "Of course, Master Harry. Misty will make sure everything is perfect."
"Good," Harry replied simply, already moving to the next part of his plan. He watched Misty vanish with a soft pop, satisfied that she'd handle things without needing constant supervision.
With the room now silent, Harry returned to his desk, glancing over the remaining parchments. The list was long, and there was still much to do, but it was coming together. The event had to be perfect.
Harry sat at his desk, looking over the list of potential invitees for his Yule event. He didn't bother inviting families like the Malfoys or the Carrows. It wasn't just a matter of not wanting them there—it was strategic. With Fudge gone and the Ministry in flux, the fall of known Death Eater families seemed inevitable. Associating with them would only be a liability. He wanted no part of their collapse, and their absence from his guest list would send the message he intended. He crossed their names off with a swift strike of his quill.
The list still included several important names. Harry didn't care about their pure-blood status or the ancient legacies they claimed—he needed allies who could offer something of real value. Power, influence, knowledge. The rest was noise. It wasn't about socializing; it was about positioning himself for what came next.
Satisfied with his work, Harry sat back and stared at the parchment for a moment. The Ministry, in its current state, would be desperate to find stability. This event was the perfect opportunity to solidify his standing. No pomp or flashiness—just the right people, in the right place, at the right time.
Hours passed as Harry worked through the finer details, occasionally adding or removing a name, ensuring everything was just right. Misty had already taken care of the basic preparations, but there were still decisions to be made. He'd need to handle security personally. He couldn't afford to let anyone slip through the cracks.
As he finished the final draft of his guest list, Harry let out a breath, leaning back in his chair He exhaled softly, stretching his arms above his head. It had been a long night, but the work was worth it. Leaning back further, Harry called out, "Dobby."
With a faint pop, the house-elf appeared before him, bowing low. "Sir Potter," Dobby greeted, looking eager as ever to be of service.
Harry gave him a smile. How's the search going, Dobby? Last time you mentioned a hidden room in Hogwarts."
Dobby straightened up a little, eyes wide with excitement. "Yes, Sir Potter! Dobby found a room, a strange one! It's been hidden for many, many years... maybe centuries! Dobby thinks it could be the one you is looking for."
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