Chapter 1: The Echo Behind the Past
That morning came without a warm greeting. Harry Potter’s office felt silent.
The air inside was heavy. The smell of old parchment stung his nose.
In the corner, a cup of cold coffee was left abandoned.
From behind the large glass window, the London sky looked thick and gray.
Morning dew dripped slowly onto the ivy leaves crawling up the wall.
Piles of investigation reports were scattered across the desk.
The front page of today’s Daily Prophet lay wide open. The bold letters moved slowly on the page.
The headline had already stirred the whole wizarding community even before sunrise.
Aether Shield.
A new magical invention by Aurora Montmorency. An extraordinary object claimed to destroy the killing curse.
Harry stared intently at the newspaper’s front page. He didn’t blink, not even for a second.
His eyes were fixed on a single spot. The world seemed to stop on the front page.
In the right corner of the page, a moving photo showed a female witch.
No warm smile. No waving hand to greet the reader.
Aurora Montmorency stood in the middle of a glass conservatory. Silver ferns around her hissed softly every time caught by the London wind.
Her face looked annoyed. Her beauty radiated cold and indifference.
She looked like a forest fairy alienated from the world. Her dark hair fell straight with no ornament.
Her blue eyes stared sharply ahead. Very cold.
She looked into the camera lens, not caring about anyone.
Aurora was the sole heir of the Montmorency family. A pure-blood family, wealthy and respected.
She was known for guarding her privacy tightly. No one could easily breach her world’s walls.
She spent all her time sunk in advanced magical theory. The outside world just passed by her side.
Now her name suddenly soared. The whole wizarding world talked about her achievement.
She was the inventor of a revolutionary ancient shield. A shield that could deflect or even reflect the Avada Kedavra curse.
Hermione had just contacted Harry and praised the discovery as the academic miracle of the century. A breakthrough worthy of the Order of Merlin, First Class.
But for Harry, the news brought back bad memories. That night in June 1995 suddenly appeared vividly in his mind’s eye.
An old, damp, and dark graveyard. Wild grass covered the cold stone gravestones.
Harry’s nose caught the scent of wet earth. Cold sweat stuck to his skin.
The smell of fresh blood filled his senses. He could hear Voldemort’s cold laugh again.
A cruel murder order without mercy. Green light blinded his eyes, exploding in the darkness.
That light took Cedric Diggory’s life in a blink.
Empty.
A hollow space in his chest that nothing could ever fill.
Harry slumped in his chair. He closed his eyes. He wanted to keep the world from collapsing around him.
The lightning-shaped scar on his forehead throbbed gently. Not because there was an enemy nearby.
But because of the regret that never left. Cedric should still be here with them.
That kind Hufflepuff boy deserved to grow into a middle-aged man. Maybe he would wear a senior Auror’s robe with a proud smile.
Or maybe lead England’s national Quidditch team. The memory of that genuine smile never faded from Harry’s mind.
If only.
Harry murmured in his heart, full of pain. His fingers clenched tightly. If only that protective shield was created back then.
If that ancient magic had been there on the night of terror in the maze. If only time could be reversed.
Even for just one second, it would be the most precious.
“If you keep staring at that paper until your eyes water, Harry, the headline won’t turn into Hermione’s apple pie recipe.”
That voice broke the silence. It sounded light.
But carried a piercing sharpness.
The wooden office door opened a little wider. Ginny walked in calmly.
She wore an old emerald green house robe. In her right hand, she carried a small tray.
On it was a teapot of warm tea, steaming with calming chamomile aroma.
Her clear eyes immediately caught her husband’s expression.
That empty look.
The look of a man lost again in the hallway of the past. A dark past that never truly closed.
Ginny set the tray carefully on the table.
She pushed aside the pile of dark wizard arrest reports to the end of the desk.
She pulled a wooden chair across from Harry, then poured hot tea into a new cup.
Calm radiated from her every move.
“I’m not reading a cake recipe, Gin,” Harry said hoarsely.
He looked at his wife slowly, then pointed to Aurora Montmorency’s photo in the newspaper.
That woman’s face still stared coldly from behind the page.
“I’m reading real proof of something that came too late.”
Ginny followed her husband’s gaze. Her face softened.
She knew exactly that the heavy burden Harry carried also pressed on her own shoulders.
She had accompanied him through long nights full of nightmares.
Nights when the shadow of 1995 crept in uninvited into their bedroom.
A shadow that always demanded space between breaths and sleep.
“That Montmorency heir,” Ginny said bitterly. She sipped her warm tea slowly.
“I still remember her from Hogwarts. Sixth year. She was a transfer student who always kept to herself. She spent her time sitting in the darkest corner of the library. Reading thick, complicated books in Ancient Latin. When everyone else was busy gossiping about the Triwizard Tournament and dorm drama, she never cared. The outside world never seemed to catch her interest at all.”
“She made a shield that could reflect the Killing Curse,” Harry cut in.
His voice sounded choked, full of frustration.
“Pure magic that could repel that deadly green light, Gin. If only it had existed back then, Cedric wouldn’t have died in that cursed graveyard. He wouldn’t have been another victim of Voldemort’s terrible return.”
Ginny leaned forward over the table. She looked straight into her husband’s green eyes.
Her gaze radiated certainty.
“Harry James Potter,” Ginny called firmly.
“Listen carefully to me. You’re not God. You’re not a time-turner, either. That night in Little Hangleton, you were only fourteen. You ran on blood and overwhelming fear. A terror no child your age should ever bear. Blaming yourself with ‘if only’ every time a magical genius publishes a journal will never bring Cedric back. It also won’t make you a better Head Auror.”
Harry opened his mouth. He wanted to object, to defend himself.
But Ginny quickly raised a hand, stopping Harry’s words before they left his lips.
“I know exactly how heavy the burden is on your shoulders,” Ginny continued, her tone much softer.
Her fingers moved slowly. She touched Harry’s rough hand on the table.
“But blaming yourself for magical technology only discovered now is pointless ego. The Montmorency heir spent decades in her lab to create that shield. The delay wasn’t your fault.”
Harry swallowed and looked away from his wife’s gaze.
He returned his eyes to Aurora Montmorency’s cold face in the newspaper. Every word Ginny spoke held a bitter truth that pierced his heart.
Yet at the same time, a powerful curiosity began to swirl in his mind.
Before Harry could respond.
Crash!
The old silver spell detector on the bookshelf began to spin. It released thin blue smoke.
The smoke drifted in the air like a curious spirit.
The next second.
The office door burst open with a loud bang. The sound echoed against the stone castle walls.
A Ministry of Magic employee stood panting at the door.
His breath was erratic. His face pale as white wax.
Both hands gripped a piece of parchment stamped with blood-red ink.
“Head Auror!” the employee shouted. His voice broke and trembled in panic.
“We… we managed to stabilize the breach in the ninth basement!”
“That one-time time portal… it’s truly open now!”
Harry jumped from his chair with a quick reflex.
The chair toppled and crashed to the floor with a loud thud.
In Harry’s head.
The door to the past, locked tight for years, suddenly swung wide open.
A flood of memories, guilt, and impossible opportunity struck his consciousness all at once.
Cedric!
