Harry Potter-A New Future

I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.

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Chapter 7: Ripples of Power

The wizarding world buzzed with tension in the wake of the attack on Diagon Alley. The headlines of The Daily Prophet screamed of the carnage:

"Death Eaters Annihilated in Diagon Alley Battle! Dementors Driven Back by Unknown Wizard!"

Witness accounts flooded the pages, each more exaggerated than the last. Shopkeepers spoke of a towering silver serpent that radiated power, and survivors described a young wizard who moved like a phantom, striking with unmatched precision. Speculation ran rampant about his identity.

Who was this mysterious savior? A rogue Auror? A foreign wizard come to assist the Ministry? Or perhaps a vigilante taking justice into his own hands?

The Ministry, meanwhile, scrambled to manage the fallout. The attack, orchestrated to kill the Potter family, had failed spectacularly. But the public demanded answers—not just about the attackers, but also about the wizard who had turned the tide.

At a Hidden Place

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was tense as Alastor Moody strode into the drawing room, his magical eye swiveling in all directions. The usual group had gathered—some seated, others leaning against the walls, their faces shadowed with worry.

Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable, though his blue eyes twinkled faintly with thought.

Moody clapped his hands together, his face alight with something rare: excitement.

"Listen up," he barked, his voice cutting through the room. "There's been a development—a damned good one, if you ask me."

Sirius Black raised an eyebrow, lounging in a chair with his characteristic nonchalance. "Let me guess. You've got some new crazy plan to take the fight to the Death Eaters?"

Moody's magical eye focused on him for a moment before swiveling to Dumbledore. "Better than that. We've got a weapon."

The room went quiet.

"A weapon?" Remus Lupin asked, his voice cautious.

Moody grinned, a feral edge to his expression. "Not a thing. A person. A wizard who singlehandedly wiped out twenty Death Eaters and sent a dozen Dementors running for their miserable lives. I saw the aftermath myself—hell, the Ministry can't stop talking about it."

A murmur spread through the room, a mixture of awe and skepticism.

"And who is this wizard?" asked Emmeline Vance.

"That's the question, isn't it?" Moody said, pacing the room. "Nobody knows who he is. Young lad, from what I've gathered. Moves like a shadow, fights like a bloody force of nature. And here's the kicker—he didn't use a single ounce of dark magic. No Unforgivables, no curses, nothing."

Dumbledore's brows furrowed slightly. "And yet he killed them."

Moody stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto the older wizard. "Aye, he did. And good riddance to the lot of them. Every one of those Death Eaters had bounties on their heads. They were butchers, Albus. Scum."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Killing, even in war, is a grave act. It is not a path to be taken lightly, Alastor."

"With respect, Dumbledore," Moody said, his voice firm, "we're already in the thick of it. These Death Eaters don't fear us—they revel in the chaos. But this lad? He put the terror back in them. That's what we need right now. Someone who'll make them think twice before they put on those damned masks."

"You speak of him as if he is an ally," Dumbledore replied. "We do not know his motives, nor his intentions."

Moody's magical eye fixed on Dumbledore. "What I know is this: he saved the Potters. If he hadn't shown up, we'd be burying two of our best right now. And if he can take down twenty Death Eaters on his own, then I say we find him and bring him into the fold."

Dumbledore sighed, his expression heavy with thought. "Power without understanding is dangerous, Alastor. Even the purest intentions can lead to darkness when wielded without care."

"Darkness or not," Moody growled, "we're losing this war. Voldem—" He caught himself as several members flinched. "You-Know-Who's forces grow stronger every day. We need more than ideals—we need action."

The room fell silent again, the weight of Moody's words settling over the group.

Finally, Sirius spoke, his tone thoughtful. "If he's out there, he'll reveal himself again. No one who fights like that will stay hidden for long."

Dumbledore nodded slowly, though his face remained troubled. "Perhaps. But until then, we must tread carefully. The wizarding world is changing, and with it comes great uncertainty. Let us be prepared for whatever may come."

Moody grunted, clearly dissatisfied with the tempered response, but said no more.

Elsewhere

Harry stood in the shadows of an alley in a quiet Muggle town, his mind replaying the conversation he had with Grindelwald. The connection that bound him to Voldemort was inescapable, and he could feel the weight of the prophecy pressing down on him.

The wizarding world was reacting to his actions, he knew. Whispers would spread, theories would form. He had chosen to intervene in Diagon Alley for reasons that now felt more personal than he had intended.

"They'll try to find me," Harry murmured to himself, his voice low. "But I have no place in this timeline. Not yet."

The shadows enveloped him as he Apparated away, his thoughts already turning to what lay ahead.