Dumbledore's office was fuller than it had ever been.
The golden trio stood closest to the Pensieve. Ginny and Neville flanked them. Luna sat serenely cross-legged near the cabinet of instruments. Remus and Sirius stood side by side, mirrors of tension and fierce protectiveness. Vale remained composed but alert. The four Heads of House formed a quiet semicircle.
Harry stood apart.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked softly.
Harry nodded. "They deserve to see."
One by one, they dipped into the Pensieve.
Reactions
Normandy.
Gunfire.
Mud.
Harry emerging from the forest like a specter of war.
Ginny's hand flew to her mouth.
Ron swore under his breath. "You were alone."
Remus's face drained of colour as he watched Harry move through trees with mechanical precision. "That's not instinct," he whispered. "That's survival trauma."
Sirius's jaw tightened as Harry fell in the village, the crack of gunfire echoing through the memory. "He was just a kid," Sirius said hoarsely. "He was seventeen."
Neville stood rigid during the resurrection scene, eyes wide as Harry walked beside Aslan through that brighter kingdom.
"He earned peace," Neville murmured. "Twice."
When the memory of Aslan's kingdom unfolded, Mr. Tumnus, the Beavers, the golden fields, Luna smiled gently.
"It's a truer place," she said dreamily. "You can tell."
McGonagall removed her spectacles to dab at her eyes discreetly.
Sprout openly sniffed.
Flitwick looked shaken but awed. "Inter-realm resurrection tied to metaphysical sovereignty," he muttered faintly.
Snape said nothing, but he did not look away.
Vale exhaled slowly when the memory ended. "Death. Afterlife. Return. You crossed thresholds most never approach."
Dumbledore's eyes were shining, not with sorrow, but pride.
"You have walked very far roads, Harry."
Harry shrugged faintly. "I came back."
Sirius stepped forward and gripped his shoulder. "Yeah," he said gruffly. "You did."
Later That Evening
The Great Hall buzzed normally for once.
At least, until the doors opened.
The air shifted first.
Then,
A massive golden-maned lion padded into the Hall.
Gasps erupted.
Students scrambled backwards on benches.
The creature walked with absolute calm, tail flicking lazily, amber eyes intelligent and distinctly amused.
It reached the Gryffindor table.
And sat.
Silence.
The lion turned its enormous head toward the twins.
"Fred. George," it said in a perfectly casual British accent. "Pass the chicken."
The twins froze.
Utterly.
George blinked once.
Fred slowly picked up the platter with trembling hands and extended it.
"Er...white meat or ?"
The lion leaned forward, very slowly, and opened its jaws just enough to display rows of very real, very sharp teeth.
"Surprise me."
At the staff table, those who had seen the memories were biting their lips.
McGonagall's shoulders were shaking.
Flitwick had buried his face in a napkin.
Even Snape's mouth twitched.
Ron stared at his best friend, currently a predator the size of a carriage, sitting between him and Hermione.
"…I'm not even surprised anymore," he muttered faintly.
Hermione adjusted her posture stiffly. "Technically, this aligns with Narnian magical manifestation principles."
Ginny leaned forward, utterly delighted. "You're enjoying this."
The lion flicked an ear.
"Immensely."
Then, just to complete the spectacle, he rose and deliberately stepped between Fred and George, brushing both of them with his flank.
They went rigid as boards.
The lion paused.
Turned his head.
And gave them a slow, toothy grin.
Across the Hall, chaos simmered on the edge of hysteria.
A Hufflepuff fainted.
Several Ravenclaws began scribbling notes.
Draco Malfoy looked like he was reconsidering his entire worldview.
Then, with a shimmer of gold light,
Harry stood where the lion had been, brushing imaginary fur from his sleeves.
"Thank you," he said pleasantly to the twins, picking up a piece of chicken. "Excellent seasoning."
The Hall exploded.
Cheers. Laughter. Shocked shouting.
"YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT!" Ron shouted over the noise.
Harry sat down calmly. "Apparently I can."
Dumbledore rose at the High Table, eyes twinkling dangerously.
"Well," he said lightly, "I do believe that concludes tonight's lesson on adaptive magical identity."
The Great Hall continued buzzing long after dinner ended.
But one thing was certain:
Hogwarts would never look at lions the same way again.