Chapter 5

The Tonks' modest yet cozy living room crackled with the warm glow of a fire, its comforting flickers dancing across the faces of its inhabitants. Sirius stood near the fireplace, his silhouette cast against the wall like a shadow of the man he once was—haggard, haunted, and painfully aware of his recent fall from grace. His dark hair hung in untamed waves around his face, his stormy grey eyes darting between Andromeda and Ted as he braced for their judgment. Yet, as Andromeda rushed forward, her dark eyes brimming with emotion, Sirius found himself enveloped in an embrace that was as fierce as it was unexpected.

"Sirius Black," Andromeda said, her voice trembling yet firm, "you absolute idiot. Did you really think we'd believe you capable of betraying James and Lily?" She pulled back just enough to look into his face, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "You're family, Sirius. Our family. And family doesn't abandon one another."

Sirius blinked, his lips parting in disbelief as he stared at the cousin who had always been his quiet refuge from the madness of their shared Black lineage. "I... I don't know what to say," he murmured, his voice cracking under the weight of her loyalty. "After everything, after Azkaban..."

"After nothing," Andromeda interrupted, her sharp tone softening into something warm and reassuring. "You're here now. That's what matters."

Ted Tonks, leaning casually against the doorway, pushed off and approached with an easy, lopsided grin. His sharp blue eyes, filled with a mixture of humor and steel, studied Sirius for a moment before he clapped him on the shoulder. "Welcome home, mate," he said simply. "Always knew you had a knack for getting yourself into trouble, but Azkaban? That's a bit extreme, even for you."

A strangled laugh escaped Sirius as he shook his head. "You don't know the half of it," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Well, lucky for you," Ted continued, "Dromeda and I never did buy into that Ministry nonsense. Wormtail betraying them? That tracks. But you?" His gaze turned serious, and his voice dropped an octave. "I'd bet my life you'd never betray the Potters. And so would Andromeda."

Sirius's chest tightened as he looked between them, their unwavering belief in him more overwhelming than he could have anticipated. "Thank you," he said hoarsely, his words heavy with unspoken gratitude. "Both of you. I... I didn't think anyone would believe me."

"You've always underestimated us, Sirius," Andromeda said with a teasing smile, though her eyes shone with unshed tears. "Now, sit down before you fall over. You look half-starved."

"Half-starved?" Ted quipped as he motioned for Sirius to sit on the worn but inviting sofa. "That's generous, love. I've seen garden gnomes with more meat on their bones."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter—the sound raw and unfamiliar in his ears but undeniably welcome. For the first time in days, he felt a flicker of something he'd thought lost to him: hope.

---

Across the room, Lily—Eirlys—watched the reunion with a soft smile. Her crimson curls glowed in the firelight, framing her face with an almost ethereal radiance. There was a regal air to her now, a quiet confidence that hadn't been there before her resurrection as a daughter of Asgard. Yet her emerald eyes, warm and knowing, remained unmistakably Lily Potter.

As the moment settled, Andromeda turned her gaze to Lily, her expression shifting from relief to astonishment. "I still can't believe it," she admitted, her voice tinged with awe. "To think you're... Well, I don't even know where to start. A princess of Asgard?" Her words hung in the air, as though saying them aloud made them more real.

Lily smiled, the corners of her mouth quirking in a way that was both amused and self-deprecating. "It's a bit much, isn't it?" she said lightly, though her voice carried the weight of someone who had lived a thousand lifetimes in a single moment. "I suppose 'Lily Potter' was a simpler story to tell."

"Simpler," Ted repeated, arching a brow as he poured himself a glass of firewhisky. "Not exactly the word I'd use for the woman who defied Voldemort and lived to tell the tale. But Asgardian royalty? That explains... a lot."

Andromeda's lips curved into a wry smile. "It does, doesn't it? The fire, the courage... the sheer stubbornness." She stepped closer to Lily, her gaze softening. "You were always extraordinary, Lily. Now we just have a better understanding of why."

Lily's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked down, her fingers toying with the fabric of her Asgardian gown. "Extraordinary or not, I failed," she said quietly. "I couldn't save James. I couldn't protect Harry."

"Nonsense," Andromeda said firmly, reaching out to take Lily's hand. "You gave everything to protect your son. And now you're here, stronger than ever, fighting for him. That's not failure, Lily. That's love."

Sirius, who had been quiet during this exchange, stood and crossed the room to stand beside Lily. "Andromeda's right," he said, his voice steady and resolute. "You're not alone in this, Lily. You've got us—me, Andromeda, Ted. And we're going to fight for Harry together."

Lily looked between them, her gaze lingering on Sirius for a moment longer. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude. "For everything. For believing in us."

Ted raised his glass with a grin. "To family," he declared. "No matter where they're from—Earth, Asgard, or anywhere in between."

"To family," they echoed, the words binding them together as they prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

—

The news hit the room like a thunderclap, leaving everyone stunned. Amelia Bones, her posture rigid with the weight of her revelation, stood near the center of the room, her sharp features illuminated by the flickering firelight. Her dark green robes swished as she set a stack of parchment on the coffee table, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Lucius Malfoy and his ilk have bribed Cornelius Fudge," she announced, her clipped, no-nonsense tone cutting through the silence. "He plans to argue at tomorrow's emergency Wizengamot session that the Death Eaters were all under the Imperius Curse and therefore not responsible for their actions. If Fudge gets his way, they'll walk free."

Sirius rose from the sofa, his movements sharp and deliberate, his stormy eyes narrowing. "They'll walk free?" he repeated, his voice rising. "After everything they've done? After—" He cut himself off, his hands curling into fists. "Not on my watch."

Andromeda, seated gracefully beside him, her dark curls cascading over her shoulders, placed a calming hand on his forearm. "We're all angry, Sirius," she said, her tone gentle but resolute. "But anger alone won't win this battle. We need a strategy."

"Anger's a start," Ted interjected, his lopsided grin not quite masking the fire in his eyes. "But I'm with Sirius on this one. We can't let those bastards get away with it. We need to fight back, and fast."

Eirlys—Lily—stepped forward then, her presence commanding the room. She had exchanged her usual wizarding robes for something more befitting her Asgardian heritage: an emerald gown with intricate silver embroidery that shimmered like starlight, her fiery hair cascading in waves down her back. She looked every inch the warrior princess, her emerald eyes burning with determination.

"We'll fight," she said, her voice steady and rich, carrying the weight of both a mother and a leader. "But we won't fight recklessly. We'll gather evidence, witnesses, whatever it takes to expose the truth. The wizarding world deserves to know what kind of man Cornelius Fudge is."

"And what kind of man Lucius Malfoy is," Sirius growled, pacing like a caged wolf. "The kind who'd sell his soul—and his son's future—for power."

Loki, lounging against the far wall with the casual elegance of a predator watching its prey, chose that moment to speak. "You're thinking too small," he said, his silky voice dripping with mischief. His sharp features were cast in shadow, but the gleam in his blue eyes was unmistakable. "This is more than a legal battle. This is theater. Politics is performance, my dear friends, and tomorrow we shall give them a performance they will never forget."

Sirius turned to him, one brow arching in skepticism. "Oh, this should be good. What's your plan, Loki? Seduce Fudge into confessing?"

Loki smirked, clearly relishing the jab. "As amusing as that might be, no. I'm thinking something far grander. My dear sister will attend the session as the Regent of the Potter seat. But not just as Lily Potter, the grieving mother. She will go as Eirlys, Princess of Asgard, returned to protect her son and expose the corruption festering in this government."

Eirlys crossed her arms, her head tilting slightly as she studied her brother. "And what exactly would this 'grand performance' entail, Loki? I trust you're not suggesting I stroll into the Wizengamot in full Asgardian regalia and start throwing lightning bolts."

Loki's grin widened. "Not unless you'd like to." He straightened, his voice taking on an edge of excitement. "No, dear sister, you will walk in as yourself—a mother, a warrior, and royalty. Your mere presence will be enough to shake the very foundations of their little world. They won't know whether to bow or to run."

Amelia stepped forward, her expression as serious as ever but with a spark of approval in her eyes. "It's bold," she admitted. "But it's also brilliant. As the Regent of the Potter seat, you have every right to attend. And bringing guests—Loki, Sirius, Andromeda, even me—will only strengthen your position."

Ted leaned against the arm of a chair, his arms crossed, a thoughtful look on his face. "It's a hell of a gamble," he said, his tone contemplative. "But then again, the bigger the gamble, the bigger the payoff. And with Loki pulling the strings, I'd bet on us."

Andromeda's lips curved into a wry smile. "This could work," she said, glancing at Eirlys. "You've always had a way of commanding attention, Lily. But as Eirlys? You'll be unstoppable."

Eirlys took a deep breath, her hands curling at her sides. She looked at the people around her—her brother, her oldest friend, her cousin, her allies—and nodded. "Then we do it," she said firmly. "Tomorrow, I'll stand before the Wizengamot not just as Lily Potter, but as Eirlys of Asgard. We'll make them see the truth."

Loki clapped his hands together, his grin positively wicked. "Excellent. Now, let's discuss the finer details of our grand entrance. We'll need to coordinate every move, every word, every look."

The group gathered around him, their expressions a mixture of determination and anticipation as Loki began to outline his plan. The flickering firelight cast their shadows long across the walls, a silent testament to the storm they were about to unleash.

Tomorrow would indeed be a day to remember.

—

The chamber of the Wizengamot was steeped in an air of formality and tradition, the circular walls adorned with ancient tapestries bearing the crests of the most powerful wizarding families. The benches, arranged in tiered rows, were filled with witches and wizards in plum-colored robes, their expressions varying from wary curiosity to outright disdain. At the center of it all stood the Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore, his silver beard glinting in the torchlight as he raised his hand to command the attention of the room.

"Order," Dumbledore said, his voice calm yet firm, carrying easily across the chamber. "We are gathered here today to address matters that weigh heavily upon the integrity of our society."

Before he could continue, the chamber doors creaked open, and in strode Cornelius Fudge, his emerald robes embroidered with gold thread that glinted ostentatiously under the flickering lights. The Minister of Magic-elect carried himself with an air of self-importance, puffing out his chest as he moved to the center of the room.

"Chief Warlock," Fudge began with a pompous incline of his head, "members of the Wizengamot. I believe it is imperative to discuss the plight of those individuals who have been wrongfully accused of heinous crimes—crimes committed, I must stress, under the influence of the Imperius Curse."

A low murmur spread through the room. Some nodded in agreement, while others exchanged skeptical glances.

"We must ask ourselves," Fudge continued, his tone growing more theatrical, "if these individuals, stripped of their free will and used as tools of dark magic, deserve punishment. Or do they deserve—dare I say it—compassion?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his piercing blue eyes studying Fudge intently. He steepled his fingers, his expression inscrutable, as he allowed the Minister-elect to finish his self-serving speech.

Before Fudge could press further, the heavy doors of the chamber were flung open with a resounding crash, the sound echoing like thunder. Every head turned, and a collective gasp rippled through the room.

Lily Potter—no, Eirlys, Princess of Asgard—strode into the chamber like a force of nature. Her gown, a masterpiece of Asgardian design, shimmered with hues of orange and gold, the intricate embroidery glinting like sunlight on molten metal. Her crimson hair cascaded in waves down her back, framing a face both regal and fierce. She was flanked by none other than Loki and Thor, their presence radiating a power that silenced even the most skeptical onlookers.

Lily's emerald gaze swept the room, her posture exuding authority as she moved to the center of the chamber. "Members of the Wizengamot," she said, her voice clear and commanding, yet laced with a warmth that demanded attention. "I am Lily Potter, but I also stand before you as Eirlys, Princess of Asgard. And today, I bring truths that can no longer be ignored."

Behind her, Loki leaned casually against the bannister, his black and green Asgardian armor catching the light. His lips curved into a knowing smirk as he surveyed the room, clearly enjoying the chaos their entrance had sown. "Well, this is cozy," he drawled, his voice dripping with sardonic amusement. "Do go on, sister. I do so love a good dramatic reveal."

Thor stood on Lily's other side, his imposing figure clad in battle-worn armor. Mjölnir hung loosely at his side, yet his stance was anything but casual. He cast a piercing gaze around the chamber, his mere presence a silent warning to anyone who dared to interrupt.

Amelia Bones, seated among the members of the Wizengamot, rose to her feet. Her presence was as commanding as ever, her sharp gaze fixed on Fudge. "Princess Eirlys has every right to speak here," she declared, her voice cutting through the tense silence. "As the Regent of the Potter seat and as the mother of Harry Potter, she represents one of the most ancient and noble houses of our society. No one can deny her that right."

Fudge's face reddened, his composure slipping as he sputtered, "Th-this is highly irregular! The Wizengamot—"

"Irregular?" Sirius Black interrupted, stepping into the light. His dark hair fell loosely around his shoulders, his sharp features set in a look of disdain. "Is that what you call turning a blind eye to Death Eaters under the guise of pity?"

"Ah, Sirius Black," Fudge sneered, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "A convicted felon. How quaint."

Sirius's lips curled into a wolfish grin. "You'd better check your files, Cornelius. I was never convicted. But do go on—your idiocy is almost entertaining."

Lily raised a hand, silencing the brewing argument. Her voice cut through the tension with the precision of a blade. "Enough. We are not here to trade insults. We are here because our world is at a crossroads, and the decisions we make today will determine our future."

Her gaze locked with Dumbledore's, and for the first time in decades, the old wizard looked uncertain. "Albus," she said, her voice softening but losing none of its authority, "you once told me that love is the most powerful force we possess. But love without accountability is a hollow ideal."

Dumbledore inclined his head, his expression grave. "And what do you propose, Princess Eirlys?"

"I propose truth," Lily replied. "No more lies. No more corruption. If we are to rebuild trust in this institution, we must start by holding those who betrayed it accountable. And if you won't, then I will."

Her words reverberated through the chamber, leaving no doubt that she would follow through on her vow. At her side, Loki clapped his hands mockingly. "Marvelous. Truly. A speech for the ages."

Thor shot his brother a warning look, muttering, "Not the time, Loki."

Loki shrugged, unbothered. "It's always the time."

As the room erupted into a cacophony of whispers, Dumbledore raised his hand once more. "Order," he said, his voice calm but firm. He turned his gaze to Fudge, who was now visibly sweating. "Minister-elect, do you have a rebuttal?"

Fudge faltered, his confidence unraveling under the weight of the room's scrutiny. "I… I… This is preposterous!"

Lily stepped closer, her emerald eyes blazing. "No, Minister. What's preposterous is allowing murderers and traitors to walk free while you stand here pleading for mercy. Mercy, I remind you, they never showed their victims."

The silence that followed was deafening. Fudge opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. And in that moment, it became clear to all present that the tide had turned.

—

The grand chamber of the Wizengamot was thick with tension, the air charged with the weight of Lily Potter's revelations. Dumbledore's usually calm visage was etched with furrows of thought, his piercing blue eyes darting between Lily—no, Eirlys—and the assembly, which was frozen in various states of shock, disbelief, and dawning realization.

Eirlys, resplendent in her regal orange and gold attire, her crimson hair a cascade of fire, stood tall at the center of the room. Her voice, clear and commanding, echoed against the stone walls as she presented the evidence of Sirius's innocence. Beside her, Loki lounged against the podium with his characteristic smirk, his sharp green eyes scanning the assembly like a predator surveying his prey.

"Let me remind you all," Eirlys declared, her tone steady and her gaze unwavering, "that my words are bound by an oath of magic. I swear upon my life and magic that Peter Pettigrew, not Sirius Black, was the Secret Keeper of the Fidelius Charm protecting my family."

Gasps rippled through the chamber. Several members of the Wizengamot exchanged alarmed whispers, while Cornelius Fudge blustered, his round face growing redder by the second.

"Preposterous!" Fudge exclaimed, puffing out his chest and slamming his fist onto his podium. "This is—this is hearsay! Conjecture! Pettigrew is dead, for Merlin's sake!"

Loki, ever the showman, stepped forward with a slow, deliberate clap, his sly grin widening. "Ah, Minister Fudge, your naivety is almost endearing. Almost." He gestured with a lazy flick of his hand, and a swirl of green magic filled the room. A silvery, glowing image of Peter Pettigrew appeared, scurrying into his rat Animagus form and disappearing into the shadows.

"Shall I remind this esteemed assembly," Loki continued, his voice dripping with mockery, "that magic leaves traces? My darling brother—" he shot Thor a teasing glance, "—might be the God of Thunder, but I, my friends, am the God of Mischief. And there are few things I cannot uncover."

Thor, standing beside him like an immovable mountain of righteous fury, rolled his eyes but said nothing. Instead, he turned his imposing gaze toward Fudge, his deep voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "Your denial does not serve justice, Minister. It serves cowardice."

Fudge opened his mouth to retort, but Dumbledore finally spoke, his deep, resonant voice commanding the room. "Enough." He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Eirlys. "I believe we would all benefit from hearing the rest of the evidence, Lady Eirlys."

Eirlys nodded, gratitude flashing briefly in her emerald eyes. "Thank you, Chief Warlock." She turned to the assembly once more. "The Imperius defense has been abused to shield those who willingly aligned themselves with Voldemort." She paused, letting the name hang in the air like a death knell. "But Loki has uncovered something far more damning."

Loki stepped forward again, his expression now devoid of humor. "Allow me to introduce you to the marriage contract of one Bellatrix Lestrange." He held up a thick, yellowed parchment, the black ink shimmering ominously. "This contract, signed under duress, bound her to Rudolphus Lestrange—a man who manipulated her, controlled her, and exploited her mind for his own twisted purposes. The atrocities she committed were not of her own volition but the result of this forced bond."

Amelia Bones, sharp-eyed and resolute, stood from her seat, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "This is a grave accusation. Do you have proof of coercion, or are we to take your word as gospel, Mr. Loki?"

Loki inclined his head to her, a hint of respect softening his sardonic tone. "Ah, Madam Bones, ever the skeptic. I admire that." He waved his hand, conjuring a swirling, ghostly image of Bellatrix, her eyes hollow and her voice trembling as she recited the binding terms of the contract. "This Pensieve memory, extracted from Rudolphus Lestrange himself, reveals everything."

A stunned silence fell over the chamber. Even Dumbledore seemed taken aback, his brows knitting as he processed the implications. Fudge, however, spluttered again, his voice tinged with desperation. "This is—this is a sham! An illusion! A distraction!"

"Minister," Sirius Black finally spoke, his deep, velvety voice silencing Fudge's protests. He stepped forward, his gray eyes burning with barely restrained anger. "You've spent a lot of time condemning me without a trial. Time I spent in Azkaban, reliving the deaths of my best friends. And now, when the truth is laid bare, you refuse to face it? Shame on you."

The chamber erupted in whispers and gasps once more. Eirlys placed a hand on Sirius's arm, her touch grounding him. "We are not here for vengeance, Sirius," she said softly, though her voice carried an undeniable edge. "We are here for justice."

Dumbledore straightened in his seat, his expression unreadable. "Justice," he murmured, his tone contemplative. "It seems that Asgard has brought to light what we have long ignored."

At that moment, the doors to the chamber burst open, and Sif entered with the Warriors Three, followed by a squad of Asgardian soldiers. The Death Eaters in attendance paled visibly, their bravado crumbling under the weight of Asgardian steel and authority.

Loki's voice rang out, cold and final. "By targeting Eirlys and her son, Voldemort has declared war upon Asgard. And we do not take such declarations lightly."

Thor stepped forward, Mjölnir in hand, his presence radiating power. "We have come to ensure that justice is served—for the Potters, for the innocent, and for the countless lives lost to Voldemort's tyranny."

As the Asgardians moved to apprehend the Death Eaters, Fudge made one last desperate attempt to protest. "This is outrageous! You have no authority here!"

"On the contrary," Dumbledore said, his voice as sharp as the crack of a whip. "Their authority is greater than you can comprehend. And if you continue to obstruct justice, Minister, you may find yourself facing it sooner than you expect."

Fudge fell silent, his face ashen. The Death Eaters were led away, their fates sealed. And as the chamber settled into an uneasy quiet, Eirlys turned to the assembly, her voice unwavering. "Today, we take the first step toward true justice. But this is only the beginning. The wizarding world must change, and it begins with all of us."

Dumbledore met her gaze, his expression a mixture of regret and resolve. "Then let us begin, Princess Eirlys. Together."

—

The chamber buzzed with a cacophony of murmurs and whispers as the captured Death Eaters, flanked by Asgardian guards in gleaming armor, were led away. The gravity of the moment hung heavy in the air, and Sirius Black, standing tall amidst the crowd, let out a sharp exhale. His dark eyes gleamed with a mix of triumph and righteous anger.

"Finally," he muttered, stepping forward as the last of the Death Eaters was escorted out. His voice, rich and sardonic, cut through the murmurs. "After years of running and hiding, justice catches up. I'd say this is poetic, but honestly? It's just bloody satisfying."

Amelia Bones, her posture as unyielding as steel, stood beside him. Her sharp gaze followed the line of prisoners as her voice, measured and firm, carried over the crowd. "This isn't just about justice, Mr. Black. This is about accountability. The system may have failed before, but today… today, we set it right."

Sirius turned to her with a faint smirk, his tone teasing but appreciative. "And here I thought I was the only one who had a penchant for dramatic speeches."

Amelia quirked an eyebrow, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips. "We all have our moments."

Across the room, Eirlys – no longer simply Lily Potter, but now a woman radiating an unyielding Asgardian strength – stood beside Loki, her auburn hair catching the light as though it were spun from fire. Her piercing gaze swept over the Wizengamot, daring anyone to challenge her. There was a quiet, simmering rage beneath her poised exterior, one born from years of injustice and betrayal.

"Well, that went about as smoothly as I expected," Eirlys said, her voice crisp and laced with biting sarcasm. She turned to Loki, her expression wry. "Did you have to relish quite so much in exposing the Dark Mark? I thought you were going to conjure fireworks at one point."

Loki, resplendent in his Asgardian leathers, gave her a mischievous smirk, the corner of his lips curling with satisfaction. "Fireworks would've been gauche. A simple unveiling of the mark sufficed." His tone was dripping with mock innocence, though his emerald eyes sparkled with unrestrained glee. "Besides, you must admit – their faces when I revealed the contract binding Bellatrix Lestrange? Priceless."

Thor, towering beside them, crossed his arms and let out a hearty chuckle, his voice booming across the chamber. "Brother, you did well. Though I still say we should've challenged them to combat instead of all this talk."

Eirlys sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, because resolving centuries of corruption with a hammer is clearly the best solution."

Thor shrugged, a broad grin spreading across his face. "It's worked before."

From his place on the dais, Dumbledore observed the scene with an unreadable expression, his blue eyes sharp behind his half-moon spectacles. His long fingers steepled before him as he addressed the room, his voice soft yet commanding. "This is a moment of reckoning for our world," he began, his tone deliberate and grave. "The intervention of Asgard has shown us the depth of our failings. And while we may have prevailed today, the path forward will require humility and reform."

Eirlys's eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she studied Dumbledore. There was a dissonance in his words, a subtle current of unease beneath his composed demeanor. She could see it – the careful calculation behind his every word, the gears of his mind turning as he plotted his next move.

"Humility and reform," Fudge scoffed from his seat, his face flushed with indignation. "This is an outrage! Foreign intervention in our courts? We are the Ministry of Magic, not some… subsidiary of Asgard!"

Loki tilted his head, his expression one of exaggerated boredom. "Ah, Cornelius Fudge. Ever the portrait of competence." His voice dripped with disdain as he sauntered closer to the minister, his every movement a deliberate performance. "If you had done your job properly, perhaps Asgard's presence wouldn't have been necessary. But alas, here we are."

Fudge bristled, his jowls quivering as he sputtered, "Y-you dare—"

"Yes," Loki interrupted, his smile widening into a predatory grin. "I dare."

Amelia stepped forward, her voice cutting through the rising tension with practiced authority. "Enough. This isn't about political posturing, Minister. This is about justice. Or have you forgotten what that word means?"

Dumbledore's gaze flickered toward Amelia, a glimmer of approval in his otherwise inscrutable expression. "Well said, Madam Bones."

Sirius, ever unable to resist a jab, leaned closer to Amelia and whispered loudly enough for several people to hear, "She always gets the last word. It's infuriatingly attractive."

Amelia shot him a sidelong glance, her lips twitching as though suppressing a smile. "Focus, Black."

As the Asgardians began to file out, the chamber fell into a tense silence. Eirlys turned to Dumbledore, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. "This isn't over, Albus. You've played your games for long enough. But now? Now the stakes have changed."

Dumbledore inclined his head ever so slightly, his expression calm but his mind racing. "Indeed, Mrs. Potter. Change is inevitable. The question, as always, is how we rise to meet it."

Loki stepped closer to Eirlys, his voice low and laced with amusement. "He's slippery, that one. I'd keep an eye on him if I were you."

"Oh, I intend to," Eirlys replied, her voice resolute. "For Harry's sake, if nothing else."

As the chamber emptied and the echoes of the day's events lingered, Dumbledore remained seated, his thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty. The carefully constructed web of his plans was unraveling, thread by thread. But if there was one thing Albus Dumbledore knew, it was how to adapt.

Still, as he watched Eirlys walk away, flanked by Loki and Thor, a nagging doubt crept into his mind. For the first time in decades, he felt the cold grip of uncertainty – and he hated it.

---

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