The real Herry Potter

The next meeting of the Order of the Stars began with its usual energy, but Fred and George Weasley were positively buzzing with excitement. As the rest of the group settled into their seats in the unused classroom that served as their secret meeting spot, Fred stood up, dramatically clearing his throat.

"Alright, everyone, listen up!" he began, waving his hands to catch their attention. George leaned against the wall, trying and failing to hide a grin. "We've got a story for you that'll blow your socks off!"

The room quieted down, all eyes on the twins. They had a reputation for making things up, for weaving tall tales about their many adventures, but there was something in their tone tonight that piqued everyone's curiosity.

"You see," Fred started, "we ventured deep into the Forbidden Forest with Harry here. Searching for unicorns, mind you, under the light of the moon!"

George stepped forward, picking up the story with equal flair. "We found the unicorn—well, more like unicorns—and not just any unicorns. They were being attacked by a dark, cloaked figure. We fought valiantly, casting spell after spell—"

"Stunning spells, bone-breaking hexes—" Fred added dramatically, throwing in exaggerated hand gestures.

"And then," George continued, "just when we thought it was over, this dark wizard disappeared into thin air! But the unicorn? Oh no, it was on the verge of death!"

Everyone gasped. Fred and George shared a grin, clearly enjoying the attention.

"And then," Fred said, lowering his voice for dramatic effect, "Harry here steps up. He does some kind of... ancient blood magic, chants in an old language—"

"Greek, probably," George chimed in.

"And saves the unicorn!" Fred finished, throwing his hands into the air as if it were the grand finale of a play.

The members of the Order of the Stars exchanged skeptical glances. This sounded far too embellished, even for Fred and George. They turned to Harry, who had been sitting quietly, listening to the twins' wild retelling with a small smile on his face.

"Is that true, Harry?" Terry Boot asked, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "Did all of that really happen?"

Harry, leaning back in his chair, nodded but shrugged slightly. "Well... it happened, but not exactly the way they told it," he admitted with a chuckle. "We did find an injured unicorn, and there was a cloaked figure who attacked it. We fought him off, and yes, I did use a healing spell, but it wasn't quite as dramatic as they make it sound."

The room went quiet again, this time not with skepticism, but with awe. Fred and George might exaggerate, but Harry was telling them it really happened. The members began whispering excitedly amongst themselves, envious that they hadn't been part of such an incredible adventure.

"We should have been there!" said Parvathi Patel from the back of the room. "Why didn't you tell us? We could've helped!"

Theodore Nott sighed. "I'd have loved to take on a dark wizard! What a quest!"

Seeing their excitement, Harry reached into his pocket and produced several shimmering strands of unicorn tail hair. The room fell silent once again as the magical fibers caught the light, glowing softly in his hands.

"As a token from that night," Harry said, "I wanted to share something with all of you. The unicorn we saved gave me this." He carefully divided the bundle of hair and handed one piece to each member of the Order.

Gasps of amazement filled the room as each student received their own strand of unicorn tail hair. Some cradled it reverently, while others stared at it in disbelief. Fred and George grinned, basking in the glow of their newfound credibility.

"Merlin's beard," Susan Bones whispered. "It's true."

"That means..." began Daphne Greengrass, her face serious, "someone really is out there, hunting unicorns. And if they're drinking unicorn blood, they must be after immortality."

The room grew tense. Everyone realized that this wasn't just some exciting adventure—it was dangerous. Fred and George's embellishments aside, the reality of a dark wizard roaming the Forbidden Forest, attacking unicorns, was frightening.

"Who do you think it was?" asked Neville. "A dark wizard, like You-Know-Who's followers?"

A few students murmured in agreement, but then a Ravenclaw boy chimed in, a mischievous grin on his face. "I have a theory… It's Snape."

That comment caused an eruption of chatter.

"Snape?" someone asked incredulously. "Why would Snape be attacking unicorns?"

"He is a vampire. He's got the pale skin," Tracy Davis continued, "and he's always hiding in the dungeons. I've heard he never goes out in daylight."

A few others started nodding in agreement. "Yeah, and he's always sneaking around Hogwarts! If anyone's suspicious, it's him."

"Plus," added another student, "he knows all sorts of dark magic. Maybe he's been after unicorns for ages, trying to stay alive forever!"

The theory gained traction quickly, with several members latching onto the idea that Snape could be the one drinking unicorn blood. The more they thought about it, the more it made sense—at least to them.

Harry, however, shook his head. "I don't think it was Snape. He may be... difficult, but this was something else. Whoever that cloaked figure was, he felt... wrong. Dangerous in a way Snape isn't."

Still, the conversation lingered on Snape, with several of the members continuing to speculate. But deep down, Harry knew that this mysterious dark wizard was far more dangerous than just a Hogwarts professor with a reputation for being unpleasant. He made a mental note to investigate further—there was no telling what the future held, and Harry had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time he crossed paths with the mysterious figure in the forest.

The day of the next Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw arrived, and the atmosphere at Hogwarts was electric. Students were buzzing with excitement, looking forward to what they expected to be an intense, thrilling match. Harry, however, wasn't nearly as excited. He had just learned that Professor Snape had volunteered to be the referee for the game, which put him in a foul mood. Snape and Harry had never gotten along, and the idea of Snape overseeing the match filled Harry with dread.

As the teams took to the pitch, the crowd cheered, banners waving in the stands. But Harry's focus was on Snape, who stood near the center of the field, casting his critical gaze over the players. Harry knew Snape had it out for him, and he wasn't interested in giving the professor any opportunity to interfere.

The whistle blew, and the game began with Ravenclaw quickly taking possession of the Quaffle. The crowd roared as the players sped through the air, eager to score the first points. But Harry had no intention of letting the match drag on, especially with Snape watching his every move. The sooner this game was over, the better.

Within moments, Harry spotted the Golden Snitch. It was hovering near the Ravenclaw stands, flickering in the sunlight. Without hesitation, Harry dove for it, cutting through the air like a streak of lightning. His Firebolt responded to every command with precision, and before anyone else could react, Harry reached out and closed his hand around the tiny, fluttering ball.

The whistle blew again, signaling the end of the match—barely two minutes after it had begun.

The stadium fell silent for a moment, shocked by the speed of the game. Then, groans of disappointment echoed from the stands. Students who had expected a long, hard-fought match were left deflated by the suddenness of Gryffindor's victory. Some clapped half-heartedly, while others shook their heads, muttering about how they'd barely had time to settle into their seats before the game was over.

On the field, Harry landed gracefully and held the Snitch up, signaling Gryffindor's win. His teammates, though happy for the victory, looked as surprised as everyone else. Fred and George exchanged bewildered glances, and even Oliver Wood, the captain, seemed a bit deflated by how anticlimactic the game had been.

As Harry walked off the field, Snape's dark figure loomed nearby, his expression unreadable. He watched Harry closely, his black eyes narrowing as though trying to figure out why Harry had ended the game so quickly. Harry avoided Snape's gaze, more than happy to escape the professor's scrutiny. He wasn't going to stick around while Snape was breathing down his neck.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, there was a mix of celebration and disappointment. They had won, yes, but it had been the fastest game in Hogwarts history, and many had been hoping for a bit more excitement.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said as they sat by the fire later that evening. "You caught the Snitch faster than anyone's ever seen! But... why the rush?"

Harry shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Didn't want to give Snape the chance to mess with the game. And besides, with him refereeing, I didn't feel like hanging around."

Ron grimaced. "I get that. But still, that was mental. People were hoping for a proper match!"

"I know, but I didn't want to play with him around. It's like he was waiting for me to slip up," Harry replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

At that moment, Fred and George came over, both still buzzing from the win. "Well, mate," Fred said with a grin, "it may have been quick, but you've officially destroyed the Snape-as-a-vampire theory."

"Yeah," George added, flopping onto the couch next to them. "No vampire would be out in the sunlight like that, watching over a Quidditch match. Our Order of the Stars theory's gone up in smoke!"

Harry chuckled, glad for the change of subject. "Good. I wasn't keen on believing Snape's a vampire anyway."

As the common room settled into its usual evening hum, the strange atmosphere of the day began to fade. Harry had won the match, and while it hadn't been the exhilarating game everyone had hoped for, it had been a victory nonetheless. More importantly, he'd avoided any real interaction with Snape—at least for now.

As Harry stared into the fire, a strange sense of foreboding still lingered. The dark figure in the Forbidden Forest, the attack on the unicorns, and the mysterious cloaked wizard weighed on his mind. Though Snape might not be the dark wizard they were looking for, Harry knew there were still dangers lurking just beyond the safety of Hogwarts. And sooner or later, they would have to face them.

After the Quidditch match, life returned to its usual pace for Harry. Between classes, homework, and secret meetings of the Order of the Stars, he found himself constantly busy. Yet, there was one mystery that had been on his mind for the better part of the year: the legendary Godric's Vault.

It was said to hold unimaginable treasures and powerful magical artifacts left behind by Godric Gryffindor himself. The idea of finding it had become an obsession for Harry, especially after coming across some vague clues in the Black Family Library and Runestone Castle. But despite searching every hidden corner of Hogwarts, the vault remained elusive.

One morning, while doing his routine exercises with Neville, Harry's thoughts wandered again to the vault. As they jogged down a quiet, rarely used corridor, Harry began to walk aimlessly, pondering how he might find it.

Suddenly, something caught his attention. A door appeared on the otherwise blank stone wall in front of them.

"Harry... that wasn't there before, right?" Neville said, stopping in his tracks, his eyes wide with surprise.

"No, it wasn't," Harry replied, equally shocked but also intrigued. He had heard stories of rooms in Hogwarts appearing only when one truly needed them, but he had never seen it happen himself.

Cautiously, they approached the door. It was large and made of heavy oak, with an ancient-looking brass handle. Harry grasped it and pushed the door open. Inside, they found a massive room filled to the brim with garbage—broken furnitures, ancient trunks, old potion ingredients, and all sorts of magical objects that looked like they had been forgotten for centuries.

They stood there, speechless for a moment, until Harry's eyes fell upon a large stone chest at the center of the room. It was adorned with the unmistakable crest of Gryffindor, a lion rampant, etched into the stone. His heart skipped a beat—this had to be it. Godric's Vault.

"I think I've finally found it," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Neville looked at the chest, then back at Harry. "Found what...?"

"Godric's Vault," Harry confirmed, walking towards it.

For a moment, Harry just stood there, taking in the significance of what he had discovered. But then something dawned on him—this room was no longer serving its original purpose. It had become cluttered, a mere storage room for forgotten things.

He turned to Neville. "We could do something with this place."

Neville frowned. "Like what?"

Harry thought for a moment and then said, "We could make this into a training area. A place where we can practice spells, combat, anything really. A space that's ours."

Neville nodded, intrigued. "How?"

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, wishing for the room to change. He imagined a vast, open space, with targets for practicing spells, dueling dummies, and all the equipment they would need for training. The room responded instantly. The treasures melted away, the walls expanded, and the floor cleared. When Harry opened his eyes again, the room had transformed into exactly what he had envisioned.

Neville's jaw dropped. "Merlin's beard… this is brilliant, Harry."

Harry grinned. "From now on, this is where we'll train. But you can't tell anyone, alright? Not even the Order. This place is our secret."

Neville agreed, looking around with excitement. "You've got it. This is just... incredible."

From that day onward, the Room became Harry and Neville's hidden sanctuary. They would meet there regularly to train, pushing themselves further and further in their magical abilities. And with Godric's Vault now part of the room, Harry knew they had access to more knowledge and power than he had ever imagined.