Chapter 128: Chapter 128: Harry Potter and the Exploding Dummies

The doorbell’s chime was followed immediately by excited voices.

Arthur set down his morning tea, amused. His wards had already identified the visitors—Harry Potter practically vibrating with magical energy, and Sirius Black trying to contain his godson’s enthusiasm.

“Harry, remember what we discussed about not getting too excited—”

“But Sirius, I can see without glasses now! And I haven’t tripped once today!”

Arthur opened the door to find Harry mid-jump, green eyes bright with unrestrained joy. He looked… different. Not just healthier or free of glasses. He stood straighter, moved with unconscious grace. The ritual had remade him into what he was always meant to be.

“Arthur!” Harry beamed. “Sorry for just showing up, but I had to thank you! And then you left so suddenly yesterday—”

“Breathe, pup,” Sirius said, fondly amused. “Morning, Arthur. Mind if we come in? Harry’s been practically levitating with excitement.”

“Not practically,” Harry said proudly. “I actually floated for three seconds this morning. Accidentally. Scared Kreacher half to death.”

Arthur chuckled and stepped aside. “Come in, then. Though let’s try to keep the levitation outside, shall we?”

Harry’s first step into Hayes Manor stopped him cold.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed, then immediately flushed. “Sorry, I mean—this place is incredible.”

The entrance hall soared three stories, morning light streaming through stained glass that cast rainbow patterns across marble floors. It was decidedly muggle in design—no moving portraits or floating candles—but the sheer elegance spoke of old money carefully maintained.

Harry tried not to stare as they walked, but his new eyes seemed determined to catalog everything. “This is nothing like wizard homes. It’s so… clean? Modern? But also old?”

“Tasteful,” Sirius supplied. “The word you’re looking for is tasteful. Something most pureblood homes wouldn’t recognize if it hexed them in the face.”

They settled into butter-soft leather chairs, Winky appearing instantly with tea and an array of pastries.

“So,” Arthur said once Harry had demolished three éclairs, “tell me about the changes. Beyond the obvious vision upgrade.”

Harry practically glowed. “It’s amazing. Everything’s amazing. I’m stronger—accidentally bent a doorknob this morning. Faster—I can catch a Snitch with my eyes closed now. And the magic…” He paused, searching for words. “It’s like I’ve been trying to breathe through a straw my whole life, and suddenly someone removed it.”

“Impressive. Any problems?” Arthur asked.

Harry’s grin dimmed slightly. “Well, there’s the control issue.”

“Control issue?” Arthur leaned forward.

“Tell him about the cleaning charm,” Sirius prompted, scooting back in his chair.

Harry flushed. It was just meant to clean a teacup. Ended up scrubbing half the kitchen down to bare wood. Kreacher’s still furious.”

“And the Lumos?” Sirius added.

“Lit up the entire house. At three in the morning. Really bright. Like, sun-bright.”

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. “Your magical core has expanded dramatically, but your control mechanisms haven’t caught up.”

“Exactly!” Harry looked relieved that someone understood. “I’m afraid to cast anything strong.”

“This is temporary,” Arthur reassured. “With training, you’ll adjust in no time.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “Before we dive into training… did you, by any chance, send a stunned and bound Draco Malfoy to my sitting room last night?”

Arthur’s smile was enigmatic. “Ah, yes. That.”

“That?” Sirius’s eyebrows rose. “I nearly hexed him on reflex!”

Harry leaned in. “Wait—what happened? Were you in a fight last night?”

Arthur nodded. “Aurora was caught in a Death Eater raid. I had to go in and get her out.”

“Your guardian?” Sirius asked.

“Former guardian. She ended up facing a full squad of Death Eaters. Malfoy Jr. was there, playing dress-up. I figured you were the best person to decide what to do with him.”

“Narcissa nearly fainted when I called her,” Sirius said. “Draco told her everything—how you appeared, how you… dealt with the others. She went white as parchment, begged me to help them escape.”

“And?”

“Sent them to a Black property in Switzerland. They left within the hour.” Sirius paused. “The boy was shaking the entire time. Whatever he saw you do…”

“He saw a dozen Death Eaters die in seconds,” Arthur said simply. “Might have taught him something about choosing sides. By the way, what happened to Bellatrix? I left her fate to the Aurors who arrived at the end.”

“She’s alive,” Sirius said. “Back in Azkaban. Though she begged the Wizengamot to execute her instead. Kept screaming that death would be mercy compared to what her master would do.”

“Why would Voldy punish her?” Harry asked.

Arthur smiled thinly. “Because she made a terrible mistake. Winky?”

The elf appeared instantly. “Master needs?”

“The cup, please.”

Winky returned moments later with a golden cup adorned with badgers, handling it like the priceless artifact it was.

“Gentlemen,” Arthur said formally, “may I present Hufflepuff’s cup. Former Horcrux. Current conversation piece.”

“You got it!” Sirius nearly shot out of his seat. “From Bellatrix?”

“She had it on her. Wanted to keep a piece of her master close.” Arthur’s smile sharpened. “I destroyed the soul fragment in front of her. She knows now—she failed him in the worst possible way.”

“Brilliant,” Harry breathed. “So that leaves just…”

“The snake and Voldy himself,” Arthur confirmed. “We’re nearing the endgame now.”

“Speaking of which,” Sirius’s expression darkened, “the Wizengamot wanted your head on a spike. Something about murdering upstanding pureblood citizens who were obviously under the Imperius.”

Arthur snorted. “Didn’t expect anything less.”

“Amelia managed to shut them down, but they’re not happy. Might try something stupid.”

“I hope they do.” Arthur’s smile was the kind that made predators pause. “I’ve always wanted to teach the purebloods a lesson they’ll never forget.”

“You can’t just kill people, Arthur!”

“Can’t I?” Arthur said, examining his nails. “Well, fine. I’ll settle for robbing them blind. Their libraries, specifically. If they come at me, I’ll have cause to… visit.”

“And how exactly would you pull that off?” Sirius asked skeptically.

“I’ll Apparate through their wards,” Arthur said casually. “Too easy. Their protections are laughable. I’ll walk in, defeat their defenses, and walk out with their most precious artifacts.”

“Sometimes you terrify me more than Voldemort,” Sirius muttered.

Arthur shrugged, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius sighed. “Let’s move on from war crimes. You said you had a training solution for Harry’s control issues?”

“Yes,” Arthur nodded. “I’ve dealt with something similar myself. The best solution is Occlumency.”

“No,” Harry said flatly. “Not that. Never again.”

Sirius blinked. “What’s wrong with Occlumency? It’s standard training for—”

Harry cut him off bitterly. “I tried learning it in fifth year. With Snape. He kept breaking into my mind—brutally. The pain, the headaches… I still get nightmares.”

“He WHAT?” Sirius’s hair crackled with accidental magic. “That’s not how you leearn Occlumency!”

“It’s not?” Harry looked confused. “I told Dumbledore. He didn’t do anything.”

Arthur said with a neutral face. “Snape’s method is for trained Legilimens. Repeated attacks help advanced minds build resistance. But for beginners? It’s abusive. Dangerous.”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed. “That bastard did it on purpose. The real question is—why did Dumbledore let it happen?”

Arthur was quiet for a moment. “Two possibilities. Either Snape was working on Voldy’s orders which he could not disobey—trying to weaken Harry and make him more vulnerable to planted visions. Like the one about you at the Ministry. And… Dumbledore wanted to deepen the connection between Harry and Voldy, to use it as a spy channel.”

The silence that followed was heavy, deadly.

“I’m going to kill that Sly—,” Sirius said coldly.

“Let’s focus on teaching Harry properly instead,” Arthur said quickly. “Real Occlumency isn’t painful. It starts with meditation. Organizing thoughts. Building internal defenses gradually. It’ll also help with magical control. Calm mind, calm casting.”

They discussed the techniques in more detail, Harry visibly relaxing as he realized it wouldn’t involve forced invasions into his memories.

“Will it be enough?” Sirius asked. “We don’t have time.”

Arthur nodded. “With the ritual’s boost, he’ll pick it up faster. Meanwhile, he can start slowly practicing spells.”

Harry groaned. “How? Everything I cast breaks something.”

“That’s what reinforced practice rooms are for,” Arthur said, rising. “I have one. I’m sure the Black house does too. Let’s try it here for now—I’ll be close in case anything goes wrong.”

Harry brightened instantly. “Really? I can’t wait to try.”

—

The practice room made Harry’s eyes go wide with excitement. It was massive with shimmering walls, enchanted ceilings that mirrored the sky, and training dummies that looked disturbingly lifelike. Weapons hung on racks, glinting under magical light.

“Let’s start simple,” Arthur said, gesturing to a nearby dummy. “Basic Knockback Jinx. Gently.”

Harry took position, raised his wand, and carefully said, “Flipendo!”

The dummy exploded.

Not just fell over or flew backward—exploded into splinters that bounced harmlessly off the wall shields.

“Merlin’s beard,” Sirius whistled. “That was supposed to be a simple jinx?”

Arthur repaired the dummy with a casual wave, wandless and silent. “Again. Try to use less power.”

“I’m trying!” Harry protested, but attempted again.

Twenty minutes later, they’d catalogued the disaster. Levitation charms launched objects into the ceiling. Summoning charms brought items at lethal velocity—Arthur had to intercept a shield heading for Harry’s skull. Even color-change charms created seizure-inducing strobe effects.

“It’s hopeless,” Harry said, frustrated despite his obvious power. “I can’t do anything without destroying it.”

“You’re thinking about it wrong,” Arthur said. “Let’s change tactics. Maybe seeing what you can do when you don’t hold back will help.”

Harry blinked. “What do you mean?”

“A raw power test.” Arthur conjured a solid block of enchanted stone. “Hit that with your strongest Reducto. No restraint.”

Harry hesitated, then raised his wand. “REDUCTO!”

The stone didn’t just break—it vaporized. The wave of force continued past where the target had been, hitting the far wall with enough force to make the entire room vibrate.

“Bloody fucking hell,” Sirius said faintly. “That was…”

“Stronger than most adult wizards can manage,” Arthur finished. “In terms of raw magical power, Harry, you’ve surpassed your godfather. That’s saying something, considering Sirius is among Britain’s strongest.”

“Really?” Harry looked between them, disbelieving.

Arthur nodded. “You’re not at Voldy’s level yet—but with training and time? You could be.”

Sirius shook his head and asked Arthur. “Did the ritual give you your current strength?”

Arthur’s smile was mysterious. “I was already strong before the ritual. Ask anyone who saw the Triwizard tournament. The ritual simply… enhanced what was already there.”

Sirius asked “How much stronger?”

“Enough to make Voldy run from a duel.”

Sirius grunted. “Right. Stupid question.”

Arthur’s grin turned playful. “How about a duel? Both of you against me. Friendly spells only—let’s see how Harry handles combat with his new power.”

“I’ll hurt you!” Harry protested. “I can’t control—”

“You can try,” Arthur said with deliberate mockery.

That got Harry’s competitive spirit up. He and Sirius took position on one side of the room while Arthur stood relaxed on the other.

“Why does your wand look like Dumbledore’s?” Harry asked, eyeing the familiar knobbly wood.

“Recent upgrade,” Arthur replied, giving the Elder Wand a smooth swish. “Same materials. My old wand couldn’t keep up anymore. You should consider a custom wand one day too. Now—first move is yours.”

Harry and Sirius exchanged glances, then fired simultaneously. “Stupefy!”

Arthur’s wand moved in a precise arc. Both spells deflected harmlessly into the walls, leaving scorch marks.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Arthur called cheerfully.

What followed was twenty minutes of magical humiliation.

Harry and Sirius worked well together, covering each other, varying their spells. But Arthur was playing a different game entirely. He deflected their spells with minimal effort, sent back pranking hexes that had them dodging frantically, and generally treated the whole thing like a casual warm-up.

“Stop standing still,” Arthur advised, turning Sirius’s hair green while making Harry’s robes attack him. “Real combat involves movement. Ducking. Running. Using the environment.”

They tried. Harry’s overpowered spells at least made Arthur work harder to deflect them, but control issues meant half his spells fizzled or went wild. Sirius was more precise but couldn’t match Arthur’s speed.

By the end, Harry was covered in conjured feathers, his robes were shifting through rainbow colors, and something that might have been jam was dripping from his hair. Sirius hadn’t fared better—sporting butterfly wings, a temporary pig snout, and shoes that wouldn’t stop tap dancing.

Arthur stood completely untouched, not even breathing hard.

“I think that’s enough,” he said pleasantly. “Excellent effort though.”

As they trudged back to the sitting room, Harry muttered, “That was embarrassing.”

“That was educational,” Arthur corrected, waving his wand to restore them to normal. “You need to stop thinking like school duelists. Real fights are chaotic, unpredictable. Learn to adapt.”

“Easy for you to say,” Sirius grumbled, checking that his nose was back to normal. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“Here and there,” Arthur said vaguely. “Anyway—let’s move to the dining room. It’s lunchtime.”

Lunch was a lavish spread—Winky had outdone herself with international dishes. Between bites, they laid out a training plan. Harry would begin Occlumency to gain control. Regular spellwork practice under supervision. And above all, patience.

“This food is incredible,” Harry moaned, slumping back in his chair.

“Winky is pleased Harry Potter enjoys it,” the elf said with a proud nod.

“Could you teach our elves?” Sirius asked hopefully. “Kreacher and Dobby could use the help.”

“Winky would be honored to educate them,” she replied primly.

As they prepared to leave, stomachs full and spirits high, Harry turned to Arthur. “Thank you. For everything. The ritual, the training advice, just… everything.”

“You’re welcome. Practice those Occlumency exercises. And Harry?” Arthur’s expression grew serious. “Don’t let the power go to your head. You’re strong now, but any carelessness can lead to a disaster.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “I’ll remember.”

After they left, Arthur retreated to his study. The Elder Wand pulsed in his hand, humming with anticipation. The light sparring session hadn’t even warmed it up—it wanted more. So did he.

Fortunately, there was no shortage of targets.

Tonight, perhaps some taboos would be tested—and some snatchers might meet the end of their luck.

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