Chapter 77: Chapter 77: A Call for Help

Dawn light streamed through the ancient windows of Kamar-Taj as Arthur completed his morning meditation. The familiar routine felt different now—enhanced by the steady hum of magic flowing beneath his skin.

After an hour of mystical exercises, he sought out the Ancient One in her study.

“Sorcerer Supreme,” he said, offering a respectful bow.

She looked up from a scroll covered in Sanskrit text. “Mr. Hayes. You seem… lighter today.”

“I wanted to thank you,” Arthur said, settling into the chair she indicated. “Your suggestion about visiting MIT was exactly what I needed.”

“And have you cleared your doubts about your path forward?”

Arthur nodded. “It’s not time to learn technology yet. I’ll pursue that in a few years when the field has advanced further. For now, I’m going to focus entirely on mastering the mystic arts.”

The Ancient One studied his face carefully. “Your expression shows that whatever worries plagued you have indeed vanished. But I sense something else has changed as well.”

She leaned forward slightly. “You look too happy and relaxed for someone who simply resolved an academic dilemma.”

Arthur smiled. “As an added benefit of the trip, I got my magic back.”

He raised his index finger. “Lumos.”

Brilliant white light erupted from his fingertip, steady and controlled.

The Ancient One’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Congratulations, Mr. Hayes. That is indeed significant progress.”

“Thank you.” Arthur let the light fade.

“This raises an interesting question,” she continued. “Will you now concentrate on recovering your magical abilities first, or maintain your focus on the mystic arts?”

Arthur considered this. “I’ll train with magic in my free time. The main focus will remain on mystic arts.”

The Ancient One nodded without agreeing or disagreeing, her expression neutral.

“Now,” she said, setting aside her scroll, “I believe you have training to attend to and I’m curious to see how your renewed focus affects your progress.”

Arthur took this as his cue to leave, offering a final bow before departing.

—

The training hall buzzed with focused energy as Master Lhakpa addressed the advanced students.

“Today we perfect the Eldritch Whip,” he announced, his hands already glowing with golden energy. “You’ve all been practicing this construct for weeks. Now we refine your technique.”

Around the room, students raised their hands and began forming their whips. Most managed stable constructs of three to four feet. The more advanced students produced six-foot whips with reasonable control.

Kaecilius formed an eight-foot whip that crackled with impressive power.

Arthur raised his hands and felt the energy respond like an extension of his will. The whip that materialized was twelve feet long, perfectly stable, and moved with fluid precision.

The room fell silent.

“Extraordinary, Mr. Hayes,” Master Lhakpa said, clearly shocked. “That surpasses even advanced practitioners.”

Kaecilius stared at Arthur’s creation with undisguised shock. His own whip flickered and died as his concentration broke.

That display was just the beginning.

Over the following days, Arthur’s accelerated progress became impossible to ignore. Shield spells he’d struggled with for weeks suddenly came easily. Duplication techniques that had required intense concentration now flowed from him effortlessly.

In sparring sessions, the gap between Arthur and his peers became a chasm. Where once he’d relied primarily on spatial manipulation to win, now he wielded the full arsenal of mystical arts with devastating efficiency.

“Again,” Master Chen commanded after Arthur had defeated another advanced student in under thirty seconds.

This time, his opponent lasted nearly a minute before Arthur’s perfectly executed binding spell ended the match.

Kaecilius watched from the sidelines, his jaw tight with frustration. Their old rivalry had become a memory—Arthur was simply operating on a different level now.

—

Time passed in a blur of intensive study. By June, Arthur was training directly with the masters and spending long hours in the library. He now learned many things on his own, only approaching masters when he had doubts or needed sparring partners.

His magical abilities were progressing as well. He could now perform OWL-level spells wandlessly, and his connection to both forms of power felt increasingly natural.

One afternoon, as Arthur studied a particularly complex tome on transmutation theory in the library’s quiet corner, a familiar pop interrupted his concentration.

“Master Hayes!” Winky squeaked, appearing beside his reading table. She wrung her tiny hands nervously. “Winky is so sorry to be interrupting Master’s important training, but… but Dobby wants to speak with you.”

Arthur looked up. Dobby—Harry Potter’s house-elf, if his advice had been taken. But why would Dobby want to speak with him? He’d paid little attention to the wizarding world lately.

“I’m curious now,” Arthur said. “Bring him here. No—bring him to the manor. I’ll be there shortly.”

Winky nodded and vanished.

Arthur properly shelved the tome and, with a soft crack, Apparated to his London manor.

In the main sitting room, he found Winky and Dobby waiting. The house-elf looked the same as Arthur remembered, but his eyes were filled with worry and his tea towel was twisted into knots.

“Wizard Hayes!” Dobby exclaimed as Arthur appeared. “Dobby is happy you are seeing Dobby. Harry Potter said Wizard Hayes is a good wizard. Harry Potter—”

“Calm down, Dobby,” Arthur interrupted gently. “What’s happened? And why come to me?”

“It is Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby wailed. “Harry Potter is in danger! Terrible, terrible danger! He… he had a dream, sir! He saw his godfather, Sirius Black, being… being tortured by the bad man!”

Arthur’s understanding crystallized immediately. The Department of Mysteries. The fake dream. Dumbledore’s Army and a few of Harry’s friends going to save Sirius. The canon had unknowingly reached the DOM incident.

Arthur knew everything but decided to go through the motions to ensure everything had happened according to canon.

“Is Black really captured by Voldemort?” Arthur asked.

Both house-elves flinched.

Dobby replied, “Dobby does not know. Harry Potter tried contacting him but could not. Dobby tried visiting the Black house, but the bad elf Kreacher did not allow Dobby to go inside. Dobby does not know if godfather is safe.”

Arthur wasn’t surprised how Bellatrix and Narcissa had ensured all routes were blocked, or how much Kreacher’s hatred of Sirius contributed.

“So where is Harry?” Arthur asked.

“Harry Potter has gone, sir!” Dobby confirmed, tears welling. “He and his Wheezy and Miss Grangy and some others! They are going to save godfather! But Dobby is fearing for Harry Potter!”

Arthur nodded slowly. Canon was indeed playing out.

“You said you came to me. Harry didn’t send you?”

“No, sir,” Dobby admitted. “Harry Potter is not knowing Dobby is here. But Dobby… Dobby remembered Mr. Hayes. You were… you were powerful, sir. Harry Potter said so many times. And Winky is always saying how much more powerful Master Hayes has become! Please help Harry Potter!”

Arthur didn’t answer immediately. This was the moment Sirius would die—falling through the veil as a result of Bellatrix’s curse. Harry would lose his godfather, his only real family connection.

But this was also an opportunity. Arthur could save Sirius without disrupting the larger timeline. The man didn’t deserve to die, and Harry would need supportive family in the dark times ahead.

Arthur turned to Winky. “What do you think, Winky? Should I help Harry Potter?”

Arthur left the decision to Winky—small steps to build confidence in the elf and ensure Winky would truly become his assistant in the future, not a servant.

“Winky does not know. It will be too dangerous,” Winky said hesitantly.

“What if,” Arthur said carefully, “if I don’t go, nothing will happen to Harry, but Harry’s godfather will die?”

“What? Godfather will die? No!” Dobby exclaimed. “Harry Potter loves his godfather. His only family. He will be so sad!”

Winky, seeing Dobby’s distress, asked, “Will it be dangerous for Master?”

Arthur was happy Winky asked this. It felt warm—her concern for his safety. “No. I won’t be fighting. Just protecting the lives of Harry and his godfather.”

“Then please save Harry Potter and Mr. Black, Master,” Winky said with quiet resolve.

Arthur smiled. “Okay. I believe they went to the Ministry, right, Dobby?”

“Yes, Wizard Hayes! Thank you, thank you for helping!”

“You two stay here,” Arthur instructed, moving toward one of his storage lockers. “I’ll go and ensure everyone survives tonight.”

He retrieved the invisibility cloak, its familiar weight settling around his shoulders. Tonight would require stealth above all else.

With a soft crack, Arthur Apparated away, leaving behind two nervous house-elves.

The Department of Mysteries awaited, and with it, a chance to change one small piece of Harry Potter’s tragic story.

Time to save a dog.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep