firecracker ???

The days after the Astronomy Tower changed everything, though neither of them said it outright.

Elestara and Harry didn't speak about what happened. Not once. Not a word about stars or apologies or the softness of that quiet embrace. But something between them had shifted—unmistakably, irrevocably.

It showed in the way they looked at each other. In the way Elestara no longer flinched when Harry leaned in with a smirk. In the way Harry returned to his effortless, teasing bravado, only now it landed softer, warmer.

Their barbed exchanges hadn't gone away. If anything, they were sharper—but with the edges filed down.

"Potter," Elestara sighed one morning in the corridor, as he appeared beside her out of nowhere, walking backward to keep eye contact. "Do you ever arrive somewhere like a normal person?"

"Why would I?" he grinned. "Then I wouldn't get to see that look on your face."

"Murder?"

"Admiration. You're just bad at expressing it."

She rolled her eyes, but the curve of her mouth betrayed her.

Daphne noticed.

"You're not sneering when you say his name anymore," she said pointedly at lunch. "Should we be worried?"

Elestara didn't lift her head from her notes. "He's still Potter."

"Mm, but he's your Potter now, isn't he?"

"Daphne," she warned.

Theo looked up from his pumpkin pasty. "You hugged him."

"That wasn't hugging. That was strategic body positioning."

"Oh, of course. Silly us."

Blaise smirked. "Should we start placing bets?"

"You will lose all your teeth if you do," Elestara said sweetly.

Across the hall, Draco was quiet.

He watched his sister and Potter with a new kind of silence. Not the bristling one that usually accompanied Harry's name, but something stiller.

He hadn't said anything outright.

But he didn't make snide remarks anymore. He didn't sneer when Harry walked past. He even ignored Fred and George when they made a joke about Gryffindor's golden boy being far too cheerful lately.

That was because Harry Potter was glowing.

His confidence had always been loud. But now it bordered on unbearable.

In the common room, he lounged in his chair like he owned the furniture. In class, he smiled more. His answers were sharper, but his quips were sharpest around Hermione.

"You're different," she said one afternoon, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.

"Better?" Harry asked innocently.

"Bolder."

"Same thing."

"You haven't been this annoying since second year."

He grinned. "Must be the company I keep."

Hermione looked at him. Really looked. "You're serious about her."

He didn't flinch. "Yeah. I am."

Hermione blinked. "You know she's a Slytherin."

"I think I figured that out somewhere between the threats and the eye rolls."

"She could break your heart."

"Then at least it'd be her."

Hermione sighed, but her mouth quirked up at the corner. "Well, just don't expect me to console you when you get hexed."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

High above, in the headmaster's office, the air was colder.

Regulus stood before the fire, arms folded, his eyes dark as he spoke.

"It won't be long now. The Mark's deepening. Every week, it darkens."

Snape, beside him, nodded. "Karkaroff is already unsettled. He's been watching the Dark Mark like it's a clock ticking to his end."

Dumbledore stood behind his desk, silent for a long moment.

"You've confirmed he's returned?"

Regulus gave a small nod. "He's here. Not yet whole, but near enough. He walks. Speaks. Commands."

Dumbledore's hands folded before him. "And you, Regulus?"

"I played my part. As we planned. As we prepared."

Snape added, "But the time is running short. He grows stronger with each day. The inner circle stirs."

Regulus's eyes flicked to the window.

"The storm is coming," he said quietly. "You need to keep your eyes on Karkaroff. He will panic. Panic leads to mistakes. Mistakes lead to blood."

Dumbledore nodded once.

The fire crackled.